#Now he just needs to bring him to the containment facility

[respectfullytrash]

[katsukikitten]

You've been writing to inmates in prison for almost two years now and have helped many feel more at ease with their current situations and possible futures. So it should come to no surprise when the warden of the most notorious prison seeks out your help with a difficult inmate they can hardly contain. The task proves difficult after you receive your first letter back from Bakugou Katsuki. More infamously known as Ground Zero, and you're not so sure you can help a man this far gone.

wc 6.8k warnings: dunno but he's mean and a villain so read at your own risk. MDNI 18+ content

Congratulations!

You've been selected for a special project due to your credentials with previous inmates. Letters exchanged between you and other inmates have had a positive effect on their rehabilitation which is one step closer to getting them assimilated back to the normalcy of society. 

We ask that you help us by reaching out to inmate B-001174 Bakugou, Katsuki. He has not had mail correspondence nor a visitor due to his self isolation since his incarceration. We are hoping that a letter from the most well received correspondent begins to pave the way for a brighter future for B-001174. Please see the below instructions on what topics to avoid for inmate B-001174

Family members of any relation to inmate

Previous crimes by inmate or inmate's affiliates. 

Current crimes by inmate's affiliates or any such nature of crime 

Current events of any kind including natural disasters, diseases, political elections or anything of relation. 

Current hero rankings, change of status or death of any hero since incarceration December 18th 2XXX

Any mention of hero(es) who captured inmate listed as follows : Aizawa, Shouta - Eraserhead, Todoroki, Enji - Endeavor, Toshinori, Yagi - Allmight, Usagiyama, Rumi - Mirko 

Current known affiliates are listed as follows : Kirishima, Eijirou, Midoriya, Izuku, Shigaraki, Tomura and Todoroki, Touya. 

We appreciate your efforts in brightening the dull lives of inmates and hope you pick up your pen and do what you do best, change lives for the better! Please see the following attachments for instructions on how to address the letter and seal inside the pre-paid postage envelope before dropping it off at any post office.

Remember each letter will be opened and read for any sort of criminal activity before being passed along to the inmate. 

Sincerely, 

Warden of Tartarus Maximum Prison Facility

You flip the letter over and skim the instructions, the same as they always are expect this time there is an extra line to add, maximum security level ten, as if you had to notate some sort of alert to the mailroom for an extra thorough check of this particular piece of mail. You bite the inside of your lip, toeing off your kitten heels before padding over to your computer with letter in tow.  

The request comes as a surprise, mostly because they listed a specific inmate instead of your usual list of inmates who wished to receive mail but had ties cut from their own families or needed some semblance of someone on the outside to speak with. Never asking you to address some sort of conversation with someone who sounded like they didn't want to have one at all. 

Snarling your lip when you read the affiliates that you needed to avoid as if their government names gave you any idea of who they were, some of them anyway. 

Two with whom you were already exchanging letters with weekly. 

Your usual routine to wind down from work is lost to your undying hunger of who this person was. Although you had to admit Bakugou sounded eerily familiar. 

A quick search brings up his villain name,  Ground Zero, captured during a raid of some sort and he alone needed several heroes for his capture. His quirk was dangerous, explosions detonated by sparks along his forearms and palms from his sweat that contained nitroglycerin and it seemed as if his mental health was just as stable as the fuel to his quirk. 

Looking at him wrong set him off and he was powerful enough to level buildings from just a few juls of output from his intense explosions. Still curiosity killed the cat and you delved deeper. 

Wondering how Izuku, aka Deku, who was quirkless and Eijirou, aka Blood Riot who could harden his skin, which you knew from their letters, got caught up with a living, breathing nuke. 

Thankfully most of the documentation and footage involving Katsuki's arrest was released to the public with redactions and edits of course but what you needed was the raw data. 

Finding unofficially released footage from Mirko's body cam, the only surviving body cam between the pursuing heroes. It starts right in the midst of the action, sirens wailing  and people screaming in the background as the scene unfolds. Ground Zero and Mirko exchange blows evenly while Endevor tries to ambush him from behind. The hulking blonde smirks, as if he had no blind spot, swinging his large arm backward hitting Endeavor right in the mouth, hard enough it sends him flying.  Katsuki's bromine eyes flicker to what must be vantage points off camera as if searching for something. 

"Got that pesky ass four eyes on me huh? I'm hurt ya don't wanna play with me properly, hops." He dodges a kick to the chest, sliding back and it's obvious his prowess as a fighter is unmatched, even with his quirk silenced.

"Shut the fuck up. Ya talk too much."  Shifting her weight to fein a kick that he catches, pinning her thick leg between his sturdy ribs and strong arm as he wears the nastiest smile. One that Mirko wipes off quickly with a swift kick from her free foot straight to his handsome face. Turning his cheek and blood arcs from his mouth, still he does not stagger nor falter. 

He even still has her leg pinned as she stands awkwardly, back arched to him and her bunny tail twitches. The viewer can only see the ground and her free leg but the mic still very much catches what he says next and you're sure the smile he was wearing earlier comes back tenfold. 

"Careful hops, ya get any rougher with me and I'll cum." 

His laugh echoes shortly after and the sound should not cause your stomach to flip the way it does before the footage abruptly ends. 

Taking the time to scroll through a few more pictures and articles, trying to find where it all went wrong when really none of that was your business, still it killed you to know. 

And when you fail to find anything, fail to find that butterfly effect that puts his whole life askew, it does little to quell the uneasy feeling that gnaws at the pit of your stomach. If anything it fuels it yet still you rummage your desk for stationary and a pen. 

Sealing away the envelope once you were done and setting it by your purse to grab in the morning when you think you'll be braver. 

Or maybe less brave as you hesitate by the mail drop off box, your train fast approaching the outside terminal before you shove it into the slot quickly. 

Too late to take it back now. 

Besides what were the odds he'd even send one back?

"B-001174, got mail." The guard grunts as he slips the already open letter under the cell door, finishing his rounds before the doors would open and the inmates could roam about the pod as they saw fit. 

Katsuki snarls, he didn't get mail, letters or pictures or even the cult following he once had he'd scared 'em all off. Tired of all the stupid bullshit they spewed at him, the ideals they placed on him or the words they shoved into his mouth. Worst yet were how they justified their actions, their own wrong doings in the name of Ground Zero, too pussy to even own up to their own actions. Katsuki hated that as much as he hated liars. 

Besides he didn't ask for all that shit, didn't care. He just wanted to watch the world burn. 

Wanted to set it on fire and Katsuki's philosophy was that anything was kindling. 

That everything is kindling. 

And he thinks he should just ignite the smallest spark despite the quirk "silencing" cuffs and let the letter be devoured by the heat of his palms. 

But the return address catches his eye, the name does. It's familiar in a way he can't quite place yet. Pulling the paper out of the envelope in the meantime. The first thing he notices is the faint almost perfumey smell of coconut from the paper, not from spraying the stationary but as if it were lotion rubbing across the parchment as you wrote in long looping letters, for a moment he finds the smell pleasant. His poisonous bromine eyes slide over the letter with ease. 

Dear Bakugou, 

I heard you don't get letters very often, if any, so I hope this one finds you well. The weather is warming up quickly, the cicadas are starting to scream even though it's barely June, we'll all be sweltering come August. Summer is my favorite season, do you have a favorite? Work slows down around this time and they usually grant us extra leave so we can enjoy the weather, which is quite nice. I hope you're getting to enjoy the sun as well. 

I know cooking is one of your favorite things, I can see why. It can be relaxing or make you feel good to nourish someone else. What other hobbies do you have aside from cooking? Any favorite books or authors? Maybe I can send your favorite one in! Just let me know. 

Do you have everything you need? Do you need any money for commissary? Don't hesitate to ask if you need anything at all, I'm only a letter away. 

Hope to hear from you and maybe soon I can call you Katsuki. 

Much Love

He snorts as he reads the last line and it finally dawns on him from where he knows your name. Lifting himself out of his prison cot with ease, the cheap thing groaning from his bulk as he exits his cell. Heading towards the neighboring cell that holds Deku and Riot, shoving his way into the too cramped space for the bulking men. 

"Ka-kaachan!" Izuku chirps, surprised to see the hot headed blonde out of his cell and especially surprised to see Bakugou in his own. Lingering by Izuku's half with a quirked brow, his eyes roaming until they found the hidden stack of papers. 

"Gonna grab breakfast with us?" Kirishima asks as he watches large hands snatch at the pile. Instantly Izuku stands, eyes darkening as he steps towards Katsuki.

"Put those down, Kaachan." It's that fake polite smile Izuku wears before a fight, the kind that never reaches his eyes and Bakugou doesn't heed the warning, "Please."

It's clipped and now Kirishima thinks to rise, doesn't want either of them to do solitary or to deal with the month long bickering if they do get into a physical fight. 

Katsuki looks over the letters, reading them quickly and appreciating that Izuku is meticulous enough to keep them in chronological order, each one signed off the same way. Much love. 

Such bullshit. 

Izuku shoves Bakugou when he still scowls down at the papers that also smell like coconut. Katsuki drops the letters unceremoniously and Izuku scrambles to keep them from hitting the concrete floor. Bakugou already on Kirishima's side who watches with a confused glare. 

"What are you-" But Kirishima doesn't get to say much else as Katsuki lifts the thin mattress from the metal frame to find the hidden letters. Tucked away safely as if the battle worn villain took comfort in the false words in shiny black ink. 

Same return address, same name, same bull shit sign off. 

"Katsuki!" Kirishima shoves him and the blonde hardly moves, Eijirou's skin half hardening out of habit before he tries to shove again. Katsuki hits his forearm harshly, a soft pop in warning although neither could do too much with the amount of sedation and silencing that came from the collar from around their thick throats. Izuku sans silencing cuffs, has no worries about a part of him being dulled. He was built like an ox with the metabolism of a pubescent teen despite being in his late twenties so sedatives or mood stabilizers hardly have any effect. 

Bakugou tosses the letters onto Kirishima's scratchy blanket before he scoffs. 

"Tsk, believe that bullshit?" He's rolling his eyes as he leaves the cell with nothing but the rustle of paper as they try to rehide what they act like is their dirty little secret. 

God weak hearted fools were so fucking annoying. 

Post through the prison system could take some time, especially when it came to newer exchanges. It could be anywhere between two weeks to two months before you saw a reply from Katsuki. If you got one at all. 

But the thought of his phantom reply slips to the back of your head what with your current workload and the other correspondents so when you see a sealed envelope the prison's return address you think nothing of it. 

Not until you open it to see an open envelope with your address but instead of your name is spelled out Fake Bitch. 

Blinking furiously you pull out the letter, unfolding it quickly to let your eyes scan over the page, each word burning into your retinas.

Piece of shit, 

Such a pathetic fuckin slut, writing any and every desperate man behind bars you think is hot, hopin you'll get a conjugal visit. Already fucked everyone at surface level ya gotta try prison dick? 

Or is it worst than that?  Mommy and daddy didn't love ya enough? Didn't give ya enough attention so you look for it in anyone that'll give ya the time of day? Prey on those with no one to talk to knowing you'd get a reply out of desperation. 

Lickin knives all ya know sweetheart? Pretty fuckin scummy if ya ask me. 

Fuck off and die, 

Bakugou Katsuki 

Now you've received your fair share of mean and asshole letters but this? This was different. 

This felt personal. 

It was rule number one you'd given yourself when you were asked to start penning letters while in a shitty place yourself. 

And yet here you were breaking it for some asshat who thought the cityscape was his to destroy. 

Heart ringing in your ears as you try to calm yourself, counting your breaths until you finally could see straight. Penning up something simple yet effective telling yourself that even if he didn't reply it didn't matter. 

You drop it into the mail the next day, two weeks later the same guard is slipping another opened letter under Bakugou's cell door. A snarl to his lip, he didn't expect you to reply and if he was being honest he may have forgotten about you, still the envelope was addressed to his inmate number and no longer is his name written in your cute script. 

While you may think you know everything there is to know about life and me, I'd like to point out your position over mine. 

Last I checked I'm not miles and miles in the ground, under heavy security, among other things a civilian wouldn't be privy to. However I will put it into lame man's terms as it seems your cognitive abilities have declined. 

I'm not the one behind bars, asshole. 

Much Hate

Bakugou clicks his tongue, he was used to the insult, wore it proudly most days but he knew his first letter would go one of two ways.

One, you'd cry when you read it and never replied to him again, which was his hope or two there was a very slim chance he'd get under your skin enough you'd feel the innate need to respond and defend yourself. 

Bakugou does what he does best and burrows further under your pretty skin twirling the pen he finds in the library with ease as he takes to writing out a delicious reply. 

Mail from Tartarus normally came on Wednesday or Thursday as if someone at the facility always forgot to send it out at the beginning of the week. So it became a part of your routine to check your PO Box you set up in a prefecture over in order to preserve your safety should something ever go awry with any of your pen pals or to receive online purchases. Mail day used to be a day you looked forward to, something to help you get through the remainder of your work week but today it was a day you dreaded. 

The excitement from seeing the others' responses in the mail is overshadowed by one particular envelope that slips out of the Manila folder that all of the letters to the same correspondent were sent in to save postage. 

You should be reading Touya's letter or hell anyone else's for that matter, yet here you stood, going for that obnoxious scrawl as he still refused to spell out your name and instead gave you some horrible insult. 

Pathetic Slut

If lying to yourself by writing half ass disingenuine letters to prisoners out of pity makes ya feel like yer changing the world then by all fucking means write away sweetheart. 

Just don't be surprised when you get an asshole response from an asshole behind bars. 

Cause we both know that's what you think of all of us don'tchya? 

Die, 

Bakugou Katsuki 

It shouldn't bother you, it shouldn't burrow so deep into your skin that his inky words scratch at your bones. Like his fingers could dig around in the marrow like maggots yet still it makes your cheeks heat. Makes your eyes burn from frustration and lack of blinking as your palms sweat. 

Soles of your feet burning as you walk further into your apartment to rummage through the drawers of your desk.  Uncaring how things topple over as you furiously grab for a permanent marker, pens and books scattering over the hardwood floors. 

Heart pounding as it resounds through your body like metal striking a bell. Each beat faster, harder than the last until you think your vision starts to ehb at the edges from how much hatred burns away at any of the kindness you built up over the last decade. 

Snapping the marker in half by the time you're done writing your final letter to the asshole. 

FUCK 

YOU 

You don't read it, don't care if it makes it past screening and he never sees it at all. Shoving it into one of your personal envelopes on your desk slapping on a floral postage stamp before stomping down to the express box that sat just outside of your apartment complex. 

It takes a full week for you to calm down, another week to stop thinking about it daily, and one more week to even reply to the letters you got almost a month ago. 

An email comes in from the post office, alerting you to something being placed in your box. You hope it's the new sun dress you bought as retail therapy after a long week and an even bigger bottle of booze that you'd drained. Spending quite a pretty penny on something you didn't even really have an occasion to wear it to. 

More like a nice date, the type of dress you could dress up or down depending on what sorts of accessories you paired with it. 

Taking the train three stops past your own to head into the post office. Turning the key to your decent sized box finding within the metal your promised package. 

And on top of that a familiar manila folder with the return address to Tartarus. 

You grit your teeth, holding onto the mail harder than you should as you take those three long stops back home. Swallowing thickly as you climb your steps, the folder and plastic bag package punctured from your sharp nails as you quickly press in your seven digit key code to get into your apartment and out of the sweltering mid August air.

When your door shuts it closed off the sound of the screaming cicadas and the few crickets that lie in the green space beside your apartment as you try to force yourself to follow your nightly routine. 

Remove shoes, take off makeup, eat, shower, sleep. 

But that damn folder was burning a hole into your fingers as you go to your desk, rocking your chair side to side before you just rip it open like you'd rip off a bandaid. 

This time the letter addresses you in a new way. 

Sweetheart, 

I dare you to come say that shit to my face. You fuckin better show up Saturday other wise I'll let your precious Izu and Eiji know just how much of a fake bitch ya really are. Imagine what it would do to them? Break their hearts I'm sure.  

Ya'd hate to mess with their progress wouldn't ya? 

Don't forget to wear something cute, it'd be nice to see some fat tits in my face at the very least. If a shitty woman like you even owns anything relatively sexy.

Fuck off 

Bakugou Katsuki 

You see red, breathing deeply as you re-read the letter again, who the fuck was this asshole? Black mailing you into visiting him so it wouldn't hurt your other correspondents because Bakugou was so fucking selfish. 

So black out angry you don't seem to wake up, not when you put yourself in that sleek summer sun dress that went to your mid thigh, not when you stare at your angry scowl as you apply light make up, and especially not on the hour drive and then two hour ferry ride to Tartarus. Especially not during the twenty minute descent in a cramped elevator box with a guard in front and behind you with AKs clipped to their chests, the sweltering heat seeping down this low in the ground due to body heat and poor ventilation of the prison. 

Not until the buzzer of the barred door in front of you screams its demands, that the handle was "live" and could be opened by the guard standing in the cage between the hallway that led back to freedom and the other where you could already see toxic bromine burning into your skin. 

This was a bad idea. This was a really fucking bad idea.  

You swallow thickly, it was too late to turn back now wasn't it? The door had already swung shut as the guard came closer to you for one final inspection.

"Dress is kinda short." Katsuki can overhear the guard mumble to you, can see how the guard's fingers twitch and for some reason his own do too. He watches how the guard lingers, how the man's hand press against your body and bunches up your dress as he pats you down a little too roughly. How you bite your lip when the man squeezes your ribs and under the weight of your breasts a little too roughly. 

Katsuki is starting to see red, sweat begins to collect on his brow. He hasn't even fully seen you at least not without an obstructed view but already he can tell he likes what he sees. 

Likes how the dress clings to parts of you you'd favor, the parts you want to really highlight. How the hem flusters higher with each step of your strappy flat shoes.

Loves the scowl that pinches up your cute face when the door buzzes to allow you into the room with him and another six guards. Likes how you straighten your spine as if you've gotten fresh resolve when you come in. 

Looking at him like he was trash and he smirks, like how you don't recoil from him despite how he looks now.  

Plexiglass spit guard with metal framing afixed to his face to keep more than his salvia to himself, more so to keep his gnashing teeth away from people's skin. How his throat is encircled with a thick black collar with a red light set far past stun and closer to kill that would send an electric pulse if he misbehaved but only if they could reach their remote fast enough. 

How the silver cuffs around his thick wrists chain him to the table top, thick forearms exposed from him rolling up his bright orange suit that was harsh on the eyes thanks to the flickering fluorescent lighting overhead. Soft ash blonde hair messy at the top with a self given undercut beneath, iris so bloody red it was as if he was born straight from the calf of Ares himself. 

"Hey Sweetheart." He purrs and his voice is pure sin. 

Pure fucking sin. 

Sending a jolt straight to your clit as his pretty lips curl up into a deadly smirk, showing his sharp canines. 

Bakugou can't contain the feeling of triumph that dances in his veins, purposely egging you on in his letter with the closest Saturday knowing you'd be allowed to come on such short notice. See, most visitors needed to have thorough background checks and intensive mental testing before coming to meet anyone in maximum security five hundred meters below sea level. 

But the conniving blonde knew you were special. 

Knew the warden of Tartarus favored you and would allow you to skip these precautions, especially after what that dumbass thinks you've done. In less than a month of writing to him, that damn Deku finally added Inko-san back to his visiting list, actually came to the visit and cupped her hands. Murmuring on and on that her baby boy with the wavy emerald curls was okay. Inko cried and returned every month since.

No different for Kirishima either, adding Fat Gum, who was like a father figure to him during their shared time at UA, to his visitor list. Surprisingly Taishiro came, still comes, him and Inko car pool together. 

Not even a few heartbeats pass between the two of you before you feel your tongue slicing up the sensitive skin of the roof of your mouth. Of the hard bone of your teeth. 

"Fuck. You." The words drip with sticky poison that even one of the guards behind him flinches but not Bakugou. 

No never Bakugou Katsuki, the Ground Zero himself who leveled a city for the fucking fun of it 

He smiles, both sides of his mouth curling up and it should be disturbing how much he obviously gets off on your frustration, on your hate. But it isn't, it's almost mesmerizing how he looks at you. Like you're something to triumph and conquer, something he wants to keep for himself. 

With that you turn to leave, skirt fluttering from the movement and Katsuki can see the tattoo on your upper thigh, the ink making his mouth salivate as he wonders if he can find any more you've got hidden on that fine body. 

He lunges despite the rattling chains that keep him close to the table, still he has enough leeway to grab onto your arm in one giant hand. Foolishly you try to pull free. 

"Oh come on sweetheart. I've got a whole hour of play time for this. Yer not leaving, sit down." 

His grip on you is tight, his hand big enough to engulf half of your forearm and it gets tighter still. Hot palm making your bones creak from the pressure as he smiles up at you cruelly. All you can do is glare down at him, bore all of your hate where the two of you are connected, his skin feels electric against yours. 

"Ya know, I could probably still blow your arm off." He doesn't bother to say it quietly, chuckles when you look at the quirk silencing cuffs and collar he dons, "They ain't shit against strong quirks." 

Your eyes flash, anger spiking your blood and stupidly you strike. Hand stinging as badly as the tears that come to your eyes and threaten to fall past your lash line. Clawed fingers met with the metal framing of the glass spit guard mask that covers his mouth. Still one of your claws cuts his cheeks and he howls with laughter. 

"Like I said-" He yanks you down harshly, playful tone from his voice gone as your ribs smack into the edge of the metal table, puffs of hot breath fogging the glass of his spit guard, "Sit." 

The awkward angle forces your knees to bend, settling on to the cold metal stool while his warm fingers leave blossoms of black and blue on the skin. As if returning the favor for the cut. 

"I can feel your heart pounding princess,yer pussy throbin this hard too?" He licks his lips, laughs when you lean away from him in disgust, "Ya like it. All sluts play hard to get at first." 

Your eyes flicker to the guards behind him, all six pretend not to notice, panic shoots through your veins and the realization of just how bad of a fucking idea this was settles over you harshly. Like ice water flowing from the nape of your neck.  

He follows your gaze, even cranes his head like he didn't know who was behind him and exactly where they stood. 

"Oh them? They ain't gonna do shit. They're too scared of me. Blew a guy's head off last week." He smiles and one of the guards suddenly finds the floor interesting, "Do ya know how drugged up I am right now baby? How much force these cuffs have to use to bring my quirk down to half power?" 

Choosing not to respond you let your eyes fall back on his handsome face watching it snarl as you ignore him. 

Oh he'd make you see him. 

"What cat got yer tongue now ya scared cause I'm so strong? Invincible?" Your eyes narrow as he speaks the arrogance of this man is far beyond your comprehension. 

"You bleed like every other man." He loves the way you speak, how you wield that sharp tongue. How he wants it pressed and slashing over his own as he's two fingers deep into your tight cunt, moaning into his mouth. 

He brings the thick digits of his free hand parting gift you bestowed upon him. The long thin slash as rough pads bring smeared blood into view so he can lick away the dark red beads. 

"Bloody men are usually the most dangerous, you never know if it's his or that of another's." He lets his hot thumb roll over the cut, cauterizing the small wound hoping it scars. 

Eyes widening as he blatantly uses his quirk as if there weren't armed guards behind him. You're watching his eyes closely as he does and finally you realize what he said is true. There is a dullness to them that was lacking in the raw footage you saw all those months ago. 

Then his eyes were vibrant, sharp and slicing, much more intense then the hazy glare he gives you now. It didn't make him any less of an apex predator. 

Still watching you, recording your small movements and committing your soft skin to his memory as he studies you. 

"Got a quirk?" He grunts out after a moment, after he collects whatever information he was looking for, "I wanna guess first. Manipulation?" 

He smirks at his own joke and you roll your eyes, trying to ignore how his thumb swipes at the underside of your forearm idly. How the motion twists your stomach violently with dizzying emotions. 

Rolling your eyes before you scoff an answer, "No. Besides you expect me to manipulate through what? Ink?" 

"Ya never know. Went to school with some asshole whose quirk was comic book sound effects." He leans back never letting go but now his hand is around your wrist. His fingers twitch when he looks at yours, fights the urge to roughly lace them with his own. 

"Well I don't. Manipulate I mean." You adjust in your seat, feeling uncomfortable under his scrutiny, "And I won't disclose whether I have a quirk or not." 

"Haaah? Worried I'll like it?" When you don't answer he adds, "Is it compatible with mine?" 

Slowly blinking at him trying not to read into what you think he means. He groans at your silence, the higher dosage of his morning meds finally catching up making him a little lethargic. Taking his edge off when all he wants to do is rise over the crashing wave of the pending high he can barely keep at bay and whisk you out of the depths of hell the two of you currently sit in. 

"So then what? You just used regular words to manipulate them?" He fights back a yawn. 

"Who?" Your ribs still ache from his actions earlier, it doesn't warn you like it should. 

"Don't play fuckin stupid, Sweetheart." He's lurching into your space again, hand moving back over your bruise. It makes your stomach clench when it shouldn't, especially not as the chains rattle against the metal table top, serving as a heavy reminder of the setting of this conversation. 

Still his breath comes in quick puffs as it fogs up the glass again, "Shitty hair. Deku." 

Your brows furrow for a moment, another groan from him. 

"For fucks sake." Light squeeze of your arm as he spits their names, "Fuckin nerdy ass Izuku. Eijirou."

"I can't talk about them." Looking away from his darkened eyes that flash with a fury of emotion.

"Who's stoppin ya? Them?" He tilts his head towards the guards, "I told ya-" 

"B-001174, you have five minutes left for visitation." A voice crackled over an old speaker in the visitation cell, "Please remove your hands from the guest or we will apply force." 

The small light on his collar flashes red and he just smirks, looking up, well above your head. Staring directly at the warden like he knows exactly where he stood behind the two way mirror. 

"Yea? You'll apply force? Go ahead. Nothin but a little shock t' me but t' her? She'll die warden." There is no mirth in his smirk, lips twitching as his eyes are shrouded in dark warning, "And we wouldn't want that would we?" 

The way he speaks sends a chill down your spine, the haze of whatever sedative they had him on is now gone and you're left sitting across from those vibrant radioactive eyes. Burning through the mirror to sear the warden's skin in a threat, a promise. 

A buzz rings out as the seventh guard comes in, he scrunches his nose and it makes his oddly shaped mustache twitch. 

"Miss." He grunts holding out his hand for you to take too close in your personal space for your liking. Slapping it out of your face before following your right arm down to where Katsuki held fast. Peeling off his thick digits with your finely manicured claws. 

He hisses at the loss of contact, glaring at the guard when his hands hover close and the older man is smart enough not to antagonize a literal monster. Katsuki stands suddenly, a scream comes from the bolts securing metal to metal as he rips the table out of the ground, unable to break the chains for now. 

Everyone but Bakugou in the room freezes, guns cocked and aimed at the bulking villain who rose to his full height, sticking his prison issued white shoe onto the seat he just sat on to push down roughly. Thick thigh muscles straining against the fabric of the bright orange pants. A smile to his face when the chains finally snap and he can move his hands more freely before ripping off the plexiglass spit guard letting it clink on to the ground. His large hands run through his hair as if to fix it. 

"I'm entitled to a proper fuckin good bye." He hisses at everyone in the room, they keep their guns aimed at him but make no move to pull any trigger. 

Katsuki stalks closer, a wall of muscle, broad chest and shoulders, slim waist that leads down to powerful legs and you try not to let your breath catch in your throat. 

Try not to let the big bad wolf win by letting him know just how scared you were. Over how impressive it was that he snapped reinforced titanium chains so easily. 

He's well within your arms reach now, so close heat radiates from his chest. 

"I'll see ya soon, Sweetheart." He bids you a final goodbye, waving his fingers that pop with burning caramel explosions. You're not sure why it sets you off, maybe it was the way he wore that stupid smirk on his face, maybe it was the way he demonstrated his power or his dominance in an attempt to intimidate you one last time. 

Maybe it's the way he was arrogant enough to think you'd waste six hours round trip on his ass ever again. 

Either way it makes your temper flair, burrows deep into your subdermis to scarpe at your bones one final time before you unknowingly seal your own fate. Not knowing how his body would react to your parting words. 

"There won't be a next time. I came here for one thing and that was to say fuck you." Delivered with just as much clotting venom as it was before, middle finger held high.

His smirk turns deadly, blowing out a snort as he leans closer as if to share a secret. You can smell the cheap commissary soap that clings to his skin that's starting to lose out to the rapidly building nimbus of smoking caramel that clouds the air as his lips press to your ear.  

"Don't have t'. I'll come to you." He pulls back and winks as you're guided out of the room, glare fixed on him as he stands unbothered. 

He's lying, prisoners lie all the time especially if they think they can get the upper hand. He couldn't come to you. He couldn't escape prison for starters and lastly there was no way in hell he'd ever find out where you lived.  The prison made sure of that by always including a fresh envelope with their own return address in the top left corner, you should know. You only triple checked each time you sealed away the letter, even a fourth time at the post box staring down at the address on the envelope making sure both were correct.

So fuck Bakugou Katsuki for being a dirty liar, fucking hypocrite.

Shoving yourself into an oversized shirt after your body shower you finally get to plop down into bed. Relishing the feel of fresh sheets and blankets as you sigh deeply. It had been a long, long day and no amount of self care could get his toxic blood red eyes out of your head.

Switching on the TV to pull up some show to numb your mind with familiarity when the channel cuts out. Breaking news flashing across the screen makes your body go rigid. 

A prison break from Tartarus has occurred in the late evening hours, several high profile villains are believed to have escaped such as Shigaraki Tomura, Todoroki Touya, aka Dabi, Kirishima Eijirou aka Blood Riot,  Midoriya Izuku aka Deku and Bakugou Katsuki better known as Ground Zero. Please do not approach suspected escapees, please report any suspicious person or activities immediately. Most importantly keep all doors and windows locked at all times. I repeat do not engage with the inmates. 

A knock comes from your left, making you jump out of your skin as you fist the sheets. A cold sweat breaking out over your skin in goose flesh as your hearing rings in your ears. Unable to bring yourself to look at the sliding glass door to your balcony just yet as if you could ignore it and the cause of the sound would simply go away.

Another rapt of knuckles pulls your attention once more before you finally dare to peek to see glowing red eyes peering in. The devil himself at your door and you knew better than to let him in. 

Knew better that a locked door couldn't keep him out. 

Bromine burning in the night like ever fanned flames, orange jumpsuit obnoxiously out of place against the night sky, stained in deep burgundy red and ash grays, the same colors streaking his face before he knocks again. But this time it's in warning, hard enough to rattle the door that you both know he could rip off the track with ease.

"How- how did you?" Teeth chattering that you grit closed still refusing to give in to his tactics until he presses a small envelope against the glass. Your personal envelope with your real home address listed for return. 

Panic bubbles up your throat in a scream that dies at the back of your teeth as you sit frozen a minute longer while he gives a predatory grin, large hands pressing against the glass before his palms glow bright orange. Brighter than his jumpsuit before the glass shatters and your scream finally escapes your lungs. 

In an instant he's towering over you, palms pressing into biting shards as he cages you against the plush comforter dipping his head low so he can nose at your throat, hot palm at your ribs. Leave a searing bite pulling a strangled yelp from your soft lips that makes him laugh before his mouth is at your ear for the second time today. Finally speaking dangerously low.

"Told ya I'd see ya soon, Sweetheart."

[lalunanymph]

sucker punch (m) — sae itoshi

in the pivotal moments leading up to the most significant fight of his career against his estranged younger brother, sae meets a girl who turns his entire world upside down

warnings:- underground fighter!sae, fem!reader, heiress!reader, reader is coded to be feminine (wears dresses, makeup, heels, etc), language, cursing, mentions of blood, mentions of food, mentions of alcohol, suggestive content, unprotected sex, cowgirl, rough sex, petnames (princess, whore, slut, daddy's girl), choking, power play between sae and reader, degradation, sae is an ass towards reader

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ masterlist ࿐ྂ

✯ chapter 1

Sae didn’t believe in love. 

Growing up in a harsh part of Tokyo where he had to fend for himself and his little brother, Rin, gave him an understanding that the world was a cruel place. Yet even crueller were the promises of a happy ending he read in crumpled up paperbacks the old bookstore down his apartment would throw out after it started to yellow. 

It was always the love stories that rarely got sold. 

Boy meets girl, they fall in love, they fight, they reunite and they live—

“Happily ever after,” Oliver’s voice slammed him out of his reverie. Those heterochromatic eyes prodded him when his silence got too loud. 

“Sae, were you even listening to what I just said?” 

The younger man slid his apathetic teal eyes to his comrade and friend. He gave a noncommittal shrug.

Aiku sighed. His frustration was threatening to boil over. It would be a month till the U20’s biggest match against Blue Lock and their starfighter was a million miles away. 

“I said: We can try the underhanded tactic to bring either Isagi or Rin down and then go for the throat. The money will be ours and we can make enough bank to last us for a year. Neither of us have to fight again. That will be our happily ever after.”

Sae was tired of listening to miracles. He stood up abruptly and nodded. 

“Whatever. I’m heading home now.” 

Aiku didn’t stop him from leaving, and neither did their other comrades.

Shouldering his heavy parka onto his sore shoulders, Sae stalked out of the U20 facility and to his car. The interior stank of takeout, sweat and the tinny rust of blood. He gunned the engine, but it faltered. Cursing under his breath, he tried again. And again. 

But, the stupid engine refused to start.

Contemplating if he should just push the damn car back to his apartment, he almost missed a soft voice clearing her throat.

“Do you need help, sir?” 

Sae was about to retort that he had it under control and she should mind her own business, when he caught sight of you. 

Dressed in a simple, beige A-line piece that showed off your legs and arms, a chain dangling from your neck and a pair of sunglasses perched on your head, you were the picture of quiet elegance. The fancy clothing couldn’t contain the humble appearance of your smile when you motioned to his car. 

“I have a pair of jumpstart cables. You could borrow them.” He still hadn’t responded to you. “If you want,” you added hastily, not wanting to seem pushy. 

Sae blinked. His silence stretched on without an intermission. 

You faltered and let your embarrassment swallow you whole. In hindsight, Sae found it adorable how you flushed and stuttered like you wished your entire existence would melt away just from his unresponsiveness. 

“Sure. That would be great.” After a beat of hesitation, he added a word which seemed foreign coming from his rough and rude tongue. “Thanks.” 

This should be the part of the story where boy meets girl. 

Sae jump started his car with your help, and as a treat for your kindness, he invited you to a late night izakaya selling his favourite kombu ramen. You were a stranger passing by, someone from the upper end side of Tokyo who noticed him struggling and decided to help.

You told him you knew what it was like to struggle and not be aided. Sae wondered what you could’ve possibly meant when he caught sight of the signet ring on your right hand. A mark of an elite.

He straightened, unintentionally freezing over. You didn’t know him; didn’t know that he was one of the men your world employed as free entertainment for nights when they craved a hit of violence. The both of you were as different as day and night.

“So, what do you do for a living?” you had asked him. 

Sae decided to tell you a lie. “I’m a blue collar worker. Delivering stuff.”

“Oh.” You took a look at the finished bowls and beers, the order sheet at the edge of the table. As if understanding what you were planning to do, Sae snatched the bill right in front of your extended hand. He couldn’t resist the small smirk decorating his face when you started to huff and pout.

“My treat,” he murmured, removing his battered wallet from inside his pant’s pocket. “And then we’re even.”

Except, he never did want to draw a tie or cut them off with you. 

Sae studied your car number plate, memorising it and used some of his connections to dig up more information about you. 

He didn’t have to look far. 

Your family were well-known as some of Blue Lock’s biggest sponsors, a direct rival of the U20 faction. Born from a history of blood and violence, your grandfather had been the first pioneer of a fight club that eventually changed the trajectory of his and many other poor men’s lives. As the money poured in, so did the promise of more extortion and exploitation.

Sae reasoned that he should’ve hated you. After all, you were partly the reason why he had to fight for a living.

But, he was intrigued by you. Your gentleness, your humble disposition. 

You were a rare jewel he had to unearth. 

One day, out of the serendipitous blue, life seemed to listen to his wishes and granted him a rare glimpse into your world.

As one of the rising Platinum fighters who everyone could bet on, Sae was invited to a networking gala hosted by none other than Ego Jinpachi himself. A raging egoist of a man who held his fighter’s lives in his palms like a deranged puppeteer, Sae found himself sitting opposite Rin and his bloodthirsty mentor.

Such a sight would not be unsettling.

As two opposite ends of the fighting arena’s spectrum, Sae and Rin drew lots of attention from potential investors.

The story of two brothers, once tightly knitted and now estranged only to eventually meet in the ring as opponents one day, was a huge investment factor. Filthy rich men with more money than God flocked to both Aiku and Ego to have a hand in orchestrating one of the biggest, historical fights in all of Tokyo’s history.

And tonight, Sae had to face each of them, wondering who would be the one to bolster up his gear or bet on whether he would emerge victorious against his brother. On the opposite side of the table, Rin was detached and uninterested. 

Both brothers barely said a word to each other all night; didn’t even glance at the other from across the table.

This apparently caused quite a stir with the investors who were taken by their stone cold treatment of one another. 

It’s a tragedy, isn’t it? To face one’s own blood in a ring and fight to spill it? 

Sae felt his brow twitch, and the room was starting to cave in. He needed to leave for some air or he would lunge across the table and sock these lofty motherfuckers right in their faces. 

The garden was a work of art designed by Ego’s careful hands. After stumbling out of the mansion’s door, he tried to hide himself behind a hedge, staring up at the starless sky as his heart continued pounding in his chest. Sae fully expected to be alone, and not to find a familiar face outside just a few feet from him, nor for you to still recognise him despite the slicked back hair and fancy suit.

“Sae,” you smiled, red lips parted to reveal a row of perfect teeth. You put out your cigarette into a Roman pillar column, leaving a halo of ash and a burnt skid on the otherwise pristine concrete. Sae thought it was rather rebellious of you to do that. “Fancy meeting you here.” 

Tipping your head to the side, you studied him. His flushed cheeks, tight lips. 

“I thought you said you were a blue collar worker?” 

He decided to come clean, spitting out the truth in equal parts aggression and apathy. 

“I’m an underground fighter.”

The auburn-haired man fully expected you to crinkle your expression in disgust. Not nodding in understanding. 

“I figured. Most blue collar workers don’t have bruised knuckles.” 

Unconsciously, he tightened his fists, feeling the callouses and the split skin stretching across his knuckles. “If you knew who I was, then why didn’t you say something?” 

Why didn’t you leave? 

Rich girls like you had no use for men like him. He was a stain under your shoe, a man with a God complex high off a violent occupation with no God in sight. But, you only smiled at his question. 

“You didn’t fawn over me even when you noticed my ring. I like that.” 

Somehow, you had gotten close enough for him to smell the vanilla from your hair. Sae tipped his head back, turning his gaze to the side; the action pressing him deeper against the brambly hedge walls. “Whatever you think will happen tonight will not happen.” 

He pretended like his heart didn’t skip a beat when you reached for his hand, so much rougher compared to your soft ones. You circled your thumb over the bruise on his palm, increasing the pressure till he felt the wound throb. 

“Stop that.” But, he didn’t pull his hand away. 

You grinned. “What do you think will happen tonight, Sae?” 

His handsome, arrogant face broke out into a sneer. “Just because you order men like me around every single damn day doesn’t mean I have to give into your whims, princess.” He wrenched his hand from yours, trying to ignore how much your touch singed his skin. “And don’t ever touch me again.” 

Brushing off your crestfallen expression, he strode back into the mansion, feeling more breathless than when he abandoned the suffocating room full of investors and back-talk about his skills. Rin had left a few minutes after he had, and with his little brother out of the room, he could finally relax. 

Except, you chose this moment to enter the same room. 

Immediately, everyone stood up. 

“L/N-san. Welcome.” 

You weren’t the teasing, sweet girl in the garden anymore. Instead, you wore a look of fabricated disinterest, roaming your eyes over every single man. Lingering your searing gaze on his own wide ones before turning to Ego. 

“My father sent me here as a representative. Now, which star player do you recommend I speak to first?” 

Everyone started to clamour, calling for your attention like dogs scraping at their master’s legs for the last bone. 

Eventually, Aiku was the one who cleared his throat loud enough to get the entire room’s attention. Through the hazy tobacco smoke, he cut a handsome figure in his suit, languidly rising to his feet and gesturing at Sae.

“L/N-san, Itoshi Sae is one of U20's undefeatable players. A 6-streak win and low possibility of injuries. A prodigy. You should speak to him first, miss.” 

Sae felt like you were analysing him through his suit. 

After a beat of tension, you nodded. “Fine. Send him up to my private room.” 

You turned and left. Sae stood up, hesitantly casting his gaze to a triumphant Aiku. 

“Are you sure she is the richest one out of these assholes?” he murmured under his breath. 

Oliver chuckled.

“The richest. With her backing, we’re practically golden. Now, go and woo her. You’ll do great.” 

Straightening his tie, Aiku sent him off with a wink. Unlike the atmosphere at the garden, this time, Sae was aware he had to be on his best behaviour—which was a challenge considering he had already rudely brushed off a potential investor. 

Fuck, he swore internally. Fuck, fuck, fuck. 

Why had he been so brash with you?

There was no use in crying over lost chances. He had to man up and knock on the door to your office—face you when he had already insulted you right in the face.

Sae braced his hand on the red oak, breathing in deeply. Here goes nothing. He knocked three times. 

“Come in.” 

You were sitting on a sofa, legs crossed and expression neutral. Not once did you give him a look like you were hurt from his rejection in the garden. Instead, you stood up, gaze cold and faraway. 

“So. You’re the prodigy, hmm?” 

Sae kept his eyes lowered, not touching yours. “Yes.” 

You patted the sofa seat next to you, gesturing for him to come over. “Sit. We have a lot to discuss.”

Gingerly, he sat down on the other end of the sofa, putting enough distance between the two of you not to make things any more awkward than it already was. 

The silence dragged on. Sae stared at the fireplace—the flickering embers throwing lengthening shadows around the room. He counted the cadence of your breath; discreetly wiped his sweaty palms on his expensive slacks.

You broke the silence first with an airy giggle. 

“I had no idea I was speaking to such a talented young man.” 

He looked up and caught the barest hint of a smirk on your pretty lips. Swallowing his dry throat, Sae croaked, “And I had no idea you were… influential.” 

You chuckled, placing your hands on your demurely on your lap. “It’s not me. It’s my father. I’m just his representative. You see, he’s currently bed bound from an injury and doesn’t have any sons so it’s up to me to oversee his work.” 

Sae responded to your words with a heartfelt nod, wishing he could turn back the time and slap his old self from pissing off a very powerful investor (and a very beautiful woman). 

“I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be.” 

Glancing at him up and down, you chuckled. “I guess we’re at an impasse here. And to think I nearly committed indecency by proposing you come back to my place.” 

The memory of your hand in his sparked like a flame in his mind, burning his skin. 

“Yes. To think we could’ve done something like that.” 

Your eyes lowered to his hands. His pretty teal gaze flickered to your exposed throat. 

“It would be horrible.” Your foot brushed his knee. Sae tightened his hands into fists. 

Despite the warning bells going off in his head, he relapsed back into his impulsivity, letting it taint his next move with his debilitating habit of never saying no to danger.  

“Disgusting,” he retorted, smoothly playing your game. 

You gasped, low and quick, when he stretched his hand out to graze your bare shin. He almost smiled at your eagerness. 

Pretty rich Daddy’s girl with not a shred of self-preservation in her…

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” you mumbled, uncrossing your legs and inching closer to him. 

“We shouldn’t,” he confirmed, gruff and sure, but his body was betraying him; moving to meet you in the middle of this wide sofa. 

There was something mesmerising about your eyes and face. It entranced him, kept him hooked on the curve of your profile and those alluring lips. 

Your breath brushed his cheek, warm and inviting. “It would cause a scandal.” 

Sae curled his palm over your jaw, caressing your cheek with his thumb. “It would.” You turned your head slightly, pressing a soft kiss to the pad of his thumb. Such a simple gesture made a thrill of electricity run up his spine, painfully shocking him to the heat pooling right in his groin.

“People will talk.” 

He was growing tired of this lame cat and mouse game. Moving closer, he bridged the gap, resting his large palm on your lower back to nudge you not-so-gently onto his lap. The weight of you felt familiar—right. This close, your scent of vanilla was stronger, nearly overpowering him. 

Before his lips brushed yours with an intensity that nearly made you dizzy with lust, he mumbled: 

“Let them.”

“Sae,” you mewled, nails stabbing into his fleshy biceps. 

He had you pressed against your own bedroom door, creaming right on his cock like the perfect little whore you were. Your makeup was ruined, red lipstick smudged and eyeliner crinkled in the corners. 

You had let him push your dress to the side, your panties ripped and in tatters on the floor. Sae was quick to fuck you the moment you gave him the green light to, and like the scrappy underground fighter he was, he never missed out on seizing a golden opening. 

Your thighs were trembling around his waist, struggling to hold yourself up right. Sae’s mouth devoured your weak mewls, and you let him paw at your covered breasts, ripping the dress down to expose your stiff, bare peaks. 

“No bra?” He murmured into the heat of your mouth.

You shook your head, a breathless laugh tumbling past your kiss-swollen lips. “I—mhm—don’t like to wear one.” 

“In a room with the other men…” Sae trailed off, a frightening flash of jealousy igniting his veins. The thought of any other man seeing those perfectly suckable nipples even through the silky hint of your dress made him want to break their teeth.

His growl reverberated against your throat, and you were thrown onto the bed, his larger frame crowding you into the sheets.

Sae hitched your thighs up to his shoulders, those teal eyes alight with feral lust.

“Slut.” He slid his cock back into your throbbing depths the second that degrading pet name slipped out of his mouth. “Whore. You could’ve shown them what was mine—what belongs to me.”

He bunched your cocktail dress out of the way, exposing your tits and pussy right into the cold air of your stuffy bedroom.

“Mhmf,” your eyes rolled back into your head. You were panting, bullets of sweat dripping down your face. “I-I belong to you? Says who?” 

The Prodigy nearly broke the headboard into two when he slammed into you, hard enough for the entire bed to shake. Your squeal rebounded across the room, sparking his filthy satisfaction.

“Me,” he growled breathlessly. “I said it. You belong to me.” 

Curling one hand possessively around your throat, the sloppy sounds of your two sexes meeting together sent him on a hazy high. Those teal eyes were glazed over, the broad muscles on his back twisting and flexing with every thrust into your tight, welcoming heat. 

Sae was careful not to choke you too hard, but hard enough for your mouth to fall slack, pathetic whines and drool slipping past your slick lips. 

Your toes were curled tightly in his periphery, one hand in between your legs to frantically rub your clit.

“Fucking whore,” he grunted, trying not to swoon at how pretty your sweat-covered skin looked like in the dim moonlight. “Daddy’s girl taking this dick like a champ.”

“Sae,” you dragged out his name. Ending it with a choke.

Sae felt your walls rippling around his cock, and he wasted no time in diving headfirst in between your cleavage to nip and suck at your plush fat; nursing on your nipples like a man close to starvation.

You seized, back arching and he felt those perfect velvet walls choke on his dick. Squeezing down on him.

“Cumming for me already?” He spoke in between harsh exhales. “Fuck. Fuck. This pussy is fucking perfect. I want you to cum for me—only for me. Do it, Y/N. Milk this cock, Princess. Let me fucking fill you up—fuck.” His choked moan made you see stars; the hand around your throat was now gripping your hair, forcing your feverish lips onto his. 

You practically ripped at his dress shirt, tearing two buttons off to scratch down his chest. Animalistic whines and low grunts filled the heated space between both your mouths. Sae tasted like champagne and regrets, his tongue lapping right at your teeth. 

With one last hard thrust, you broke around his cock, triggering his warmth to fill you up. 

Sae slumped onto you, and you dug your heels into the band of his slacks, pushing it further down his toned thighs to expose the rise of his firm ass to your wandering eye.

Your nails bit into the plush globes, raking down his thighs. You played with his balls, squeezing on them lightly to take every drop. Unable to resist taking all of him however you could. 

Sae smeared hot kisses down your throat, on your jaw and across your heaving mouth; completely smitten by how cockhungry you were. 

The both of you sat in the filth of your mutual mistake, stewing in the greasy silence until you nudged his shoulder. The look in your eyes was glorious; an opponent about to make her next move. Usually, he would push back—never surrender.

But, something locked his muscles in place, keeping him focused on the rise of your shoulders—the dip of your collarbone painted in his hickies. 

He let you push him back onto the bed, watching intently as you ripped the expensive dress right off your frame, gesturing to his still clothed torso.

“Take it off. Let me see you.” 

Like the obedient fighter he was, Sae unbuttoned his white dress shirt, letting it melt off his broad frame and onto the floor. Scars littered his milky pale skin, catching your curiosity. He silently observed as you straddled his thighs, working his cock back to half-mast with your much smaller fingers. All the while your other hand never stopped caressing his broad pecs and chest; tracing his scars. 

Sae didn’t know what possessed him to sit still and watch you. 

It was like seeing a painting coming to life; the remorse which melted into determination right in your fiery eyes. 

He let you sink down his cock, bracing your palms right on his shoulders. You bucked your hips slowly, grinding down on him with a painful passion; almost like you were afraid of making any sudden movement.

Sae found his large palms slotting perfectly on your hips, holding you right in place. 

Pleasure unfurled itself down your body, bending your spine back. It soused across your face, turning your determined stare hazy. You locked eyes with him, and he didn’t dare look away. 

“Feels so good,” you managed to pant. “Your cock feels so good.” 

He undulated his hips upward, instinct pushing him to surge towards the opening of your cervix. “Yeah?” he almost growled. “Can’t keep your fucking hands to yourself—you’re such an eager slut.”

Despite you being on top of him, Sae was still in charge. He clamped a hand around your throat; yanked on your hair until your neck snapped back and your cry bounced across the room. 

“Ride me,” he spat and then licked his lips. “Prove to me that good whores deserve to cum. Make me proud, baby.” 

Sae was entranced; unable to tear his eyes away from your pussy leaving milky rings of cream around his cock. 

“Mhm,” you tearfully whined. “Yes, yes! I wanna make you proud—wanna make you cum again.”

A thick arm swept you to his chest, muffling your cries right into his throat. Sae bit down on the tender juncture between your neck and shoulder, bucking his hips up into you with enough ferocity to nearly throttle you off the bed. 

“Fuck—” he snarled, grabbing at every inch of your skin; spanking your ass, groping it, raking his nails down your back. 

Doing everything he could to get you melting for him. 

“Give it to me, baby.” Not an order; but a desperate plea. “Cum for me—make me cum. Pretty girl. Pretty baby—g-gonna make me lose my mind—” 

“I’m cumming!” Your hitched gasp rang loudly in his ear, like an explosion of joyous surrender. “S-Sae, I-I’m—” 

Your walls rippled around him for the second time tonight, and for the first time ever, Sae found a new rush in his life that wasn’t centred around bruised knuckles and split, bloody teeth. 

He welcomed it—that surge of crazed passion, so different from when he was about to snuff a man’s life out with his bare hands. Felt it twist his bones, break his soul. 

The world exploded in a white ball of heat again, right into the depths of your body, his heart shattering into dust. 

Sae tasted your honeyed whisper of his name on his tongue, felt your tears stain his throat. 

He held onto you as tightly as he could, afraid that if he opened his eyes, he might find himself back in the ring, the glaring lights forcing your smile from his memory.

But, the jeers and cheers never came. The bell never rang. 

It was the sweetest fight he had ever lost. 

This was the part of the story Itoshi Sae never expected. 

Sae never had a home. His old apartment was recalled back by a shitty landlord who didn’t care about two orphans trying to stay afloat with what little money their dead parents had left them. When social services had taken Rin away, they tried to get him, too, but he was faster. 

Swiftly escaping out the window, Sae recalled nothing else but memories of wet underground passageways, nights rummaging through garbage bins and saddling up to the closest homeless community for warmth and company. 

Eventually, he met Aiku and everything else that transpired before he became The Prodigy was history. 

Fighting was all he had ever known. Violence and terror were all familiar flavours on his tongue. 

But tonight, in your sheets, Sae found another sensation creeping up his unsuspecting body that he could not quite name. It was sticky and hot, curling down his spine like a languid rush of lava to pool somewhere deep in his chest when he took in the sight of your pussy wrapped around his cock. 

He fucked you deep and hard, like he was trying to erase that sensation. But, you brought it back to the surface with your fingers in his hair, your lips on his and the sweet moans of his name brushing his hot ears. 

Where it was easy to repress his entire soul away from the world, Sae struggled to keep his emotions in a tightly shut jar under your gentle attention. 

Sae never believed in love; never believed in someone else’s goodness long enough to be confident in his own grace. But, he supposes that tonight’s encounter with you was the closest to love he could ever get. 

You let him stay the night, comfortable with him warming your sheets. Sae spent the entire sunrise staring at your face, memorising the curve of your nose and cheeks. That strange sensation was back again, this time stirring him to brush a piece of hair from your temple. 

But, like every good love story, it would not be the same without personal demons haunting every sentence. 

Sae wasn’t good for you; he knew that. You were a whole station above him, impervious and untouchable. 

Unlike fighting, there was no prize in the arena of love. No fame, no glory. 

Sae wasn’t sure what would be at the end of this chapter, and a part of him, the scared little boy who had been abandoned by forces beyond his control, didn’t want to stay to find out. 

Nothing good would come out of this if he pursued a story that he didn’t know an end to. 

The morning after, he had vanished, and you woke up alone in this too big apartment; smell of cedar and oranges still lining your blankets. 

Like it was a dream or a memory you could not quite shake off, you wandered down the halls, rustling every corner to find a shred of the man you had trusted enough to let into your inner world. But, he hadn’t stayed long enough to give your world any colour. 

The cold walls adorned with art your father had personally picked out for this apartment didn’t reflect your taste or your fondness as you stared at them, hard coals for eyes. The picture in front of you was of a woman, running free in a grassy sea. Above her, a weak sun shone down, illuminating her golden hair. 

Monet must’ve been the inspiration for this work, and though the French painter was known for his art that brought a sense of peace to the viewers, this particular one did not inspire the same notion. Perhaps it was the clinical wall it was attached to, or the furniture surrounding it that did not give off the warmth a serene painting like this was supposed to emote.

Whatever it was, you didn’t dwell on it long; turning on your heel and stomping back to your orange-cedar scented sheets, trying to ignore the pathetic ache in your heart which echoed the indent on the empty side of your bed.

©️ all works belong to lalunanymph. do not copy, repost or claim as your own.

[anundyingfidelity]

I'M A RUIN — Soldier Boy (Part II)

Series summary: After the events of the Seven Tower, you present Grace Mallory a new secret project you're working on already to develop a cure to Compound V. The only problem? You need Soldier Boy for that.

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x female reader.

Word count: 2.5k.

Warnings for series: set after S3 (spoilers), some OOC!Ben, some depressed!Ben, angst, hurt/comfort, eventual smut, slow-burn, language, PTSD, reader has Compound V (she's no Vought supe tho), Soldier Boy being an usual asshole, reader is a fucking liar.

Warnings on this chapter: Ben being a misogynist, talks about masturbation and porn, killing threats, Ben's POV in general is a red flag, death.

☕ if you like my writing, support me with a ko-fi !

get yourself in the taglist!

Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Part VI | Part VII | Part VIII

tags: @k-slla

GEN MASTERLIST! — SERIES MASTERLIST!

Part II: Silence is Peace

The next day arrived fast, and again, you found yourself walking ready to have a conversation with the supe locked in the facility. A part of you was surprised he didn't try to escape yet, but Ben, on the other hand, was just letting things flow at the moment.

The heavy, metal door opened to let you in. The supe caught by surprise seeing you coming inside full of confidence at this time in the morning. A couple of armed men in black uniforms followed behind as they settled down some furniture in the empty area of the room: two small sofas and a coffee table.

His arrogant self knew those guns wouldn't tear a single hair off of him, but hey, he understood you needed to feel safe. So meanwhile, he decided to play along. He remained still by the bathroom door as you came closer.

"I didn't request that," he said once you stood face to face.

"Oh, I know. I did, it's for your therapy," you smiled, tugging the bag on your shoulder. The armed men finished decorating the cell, and they left with a loud thud of the door being closed behind their backs. "There's been a small change of plans. I will come by every day for one hour. Anything you want you will ask me first and if I approve, then I will bring it to you."

He smirked. Like if he needed to be bossed around by a fucking woman, he thought. "You sure have the balls to stand up on me like that."

"Like I said, I want to help you," you replied, making your way and sitting down on a sofa. "Please," you requested him with a hand to do the same and he followed with curiosity. You put the bag on the coffee table, taking out a notebook, pens, a folder, and a small zip bag containing the only thing he asked from you the day before. You left his reefer on the coffee table, putting the folder in your lap as you waited for him with a smile on your face he found unsettling.

Ben still didn't buy you or your intentions, but he sat down on the opposite sofa nonetheless. You had brought him something he asked from you, something he wanted and would calm him down for a little. Hopefully it wasn't going to be that bad. He only had to put up with the game of doctor-patient. In the back of his mind, he was also grateful you dropped the stupid white coat at the same time he found your attempt to fix him ridiculous. He didn't need to get fixed.

"Your guards ain't hurting me with those guns, you know that," Ben started.

"We have to try," you shrugged. "And you're still here, that has to mean something."

He rolled his eyes. Of fucking course he had to stay. There were a lot of questions in his head. He had to settle down for a moment. Things were different in the world, he needed to learn about today's tech and get a fucking good plan to get away with his shit. Who would he get to kill first? Still thinking about it. How would he escape? Probably could use some help to keep a low profile. Could you be that help, being the only human contact he figured would have from now on? Maybe.

"So how are you feeling? Did you have some sleep?" you asked.

"I slept enough, spent the whole fucking night jerking off," he spat. "That TV of yours now does have good porn some hours in the day."

With wide eyes, you wrote down after his answer.

"Alright. But tell me, how are you feeling?" you pushed, your smile long gone and replaced with a serious face locking your gaze to his own.

"Great, never been fucking better" he smirked and you shifted on your seat.

His green eyes started checking you all over for a second. The pencil skirt hugged your legs perfectly and the blouse was tight enough to show off the size of your breasts. The clothes yelling that you were expensive and valuable for the CIA, and most important, to Mallory. Soon he sensed the discomfort emanating from you as his gaze returned to your face. God, he loved doing that, but you sure were daring to get locked inside a room with him alone.

"You can tell me the truth, you know," you said.

"I can easily break your neck and explode this shithole if I want to," he spat back.

"You won't do that. You had the chance yesterday, today even, and yet here you are."

He thought you sounded so sure about that. Ben held your gaze. Neither of you dare to break eye contact. It was like you were challenging him to something he wasn't aware of just yet. He didn't like that, but he remained there, breathing deeply with a strong look on his face. You were right though, and he realised could find you a good usage besides the obvious fucking use for pretty girls like you. He might have missed a good fuck for 40 years but the little common sense on the back of his mind told him the porn channel was enough for now.

"Listen, I know you're not a bad guy," the words fell softly from your lips. "I know you didn't mean to harm those people in Midtown... And in order to help you I could use some information on how you feel every time the blast comes-"

He stood up abruptly, strong enough to move the sofa he was sitting some feet away behind his back and yelled aggressively.

"Fuck off, bitch. What the fuck do you know about me? I don't trust your kind and you're making my threat sound like a great plan now.

You held his gaze as he made his way towards you. You were a prey in his cage, but even if you were scared, he didn't sense any sign of it. Ben's big frame towered you, standing just inches away from the couch you sat on. The space was enough for him to kill you with only one hand but you never moved or flinched a second.

"If you touch me, just a single hair on my scalp, you're fucked."

"C'mon sweetheart, you're no match for me," he mocked with a smirk on his face.

"Novichok definitely is."

He tightened his fists with his lips on a straight line, and his heartbeat increased at the mention of that fucking poison. Meanwhile, you just sat down looking at him with a blank face and innocent eyes. For a moment, he was tempted to just kill you but he forced himself to calm the fuck down. He didn't want to black out again, he certainly did not want to become a fugitive. If he was going to do something, it had to be done well.

"Soldier Boy, it's okay," you got on your feet. His eyes followed your moves. "It's fine if you don't want to talk to me. I can't force you to."

He saw a strange sparkle in your eyes. Were you pitying him? He didn't need that. And when he said nothing, then you continued.

"You accepted the deal, and that includes therapy to help you get out of your trauma. And sooner or later, you have to talk to me," you explained, he felt like a fucking child being scolded.

"You want to fucking help me and spray me with Novichok at the same time," he groaned.

"We have to take our precautions. But trust me. I’d rather not use that on you, I prefer other ways."

"This is fucking crap," he mumbled through his teeth.

He watched you making your way towards the book shelf, leaning down to grab a couple of books. He took in the curve of your ass as you knelt, and he wondered if you were doing all that little show on purpose to test him. His jaw clenched once again at the thought of being played with false promises and a cure to his memories.

"I can leave, but I will come tomorrow," you tossed two books on the coffee table: one about PTSD, the other one about new technology for him to start educating himself on that. "Start reading those and write down in the notebook anything you have to say. It can be about the books, your thoughts, your feelings... Anything you want. I don't have to know unless you want me to."

If looks could kill, you were already dead. He still didn't trust you. He didn't understand completely why a stupid psychiatrist of the CIA wanted him to go through rehab. You were a woman, for fucks sake. Psychiatrists were old, wise, rich men back in his days, not expensive sluts.

He scoffed and rolled his eyes. "You're lucky I'm trying hard not to crush your bones right now, pretty thing."

"At least you're trying, that's improvement," you smiled cockily, pointing at his chest with a finger and you took your bag and belongings together, as if he didn't threaten to kill you like three times in the same conversation. "I will leave you now. Have a good lunch, Soldier Boy."

"Time of death 9:41 a.m."

The sound of the monitor disturbed your senses as the voice announced all over the place the death of yet another supe. You watched through the windows as two lab assistants ran inside the chamber to take out the lifeless body of the woman who had given her life to volunteer and assist the program. Anything for the cure, you remember her voice saying, even after she was warned about the possible effects. The worst of them being death. The contract stipulated it clearly and you told her to think twice before agreeing to take the third version of the Anti-V, although she hesitated a lot before joining.

You breathed out. The formula needed improvement, quickly. How many corpses had they taken out of there? You lost count already. You ordered Bianca, your young assistant, to note down all the details one day after the second death of a supe you witnessed, and for her to count them as necessary and at all cost. Arms folded on your chest, your jaw clenched, losing hope and feeling despair running through your spine. The discomfort of what had to be done to find a cure sometimes was too much of a burden. But sacrifices had to be done.

And speaking about sacrifices, you knew you had to get into Soldier Boy's head as soon as possible. The few other sessions you tried to talk to him were useless. The sixth one being today before lunch. A part of you was growing tired of faking it and pretending to be a psychiatrist, it really wasn't your field but you knew how to be one after many sessions, research, and medication on your own. Grace had taken care of your training years ago and this was just another mission with a huge impact and objective in mind: destroy Vought and Homelander, and then provide the cure to supes who didn't want their powers and give them the chance to live a normal life. People like you needed the cure, but first things first.

"Doc, the analysis of Blaze is updated," Bianca said, giving you the tablet to check the information on the supe that was collected.

"Thanks."

Blaze, or Electra Richards was her real name, was a low-profile supe for some time, and you had a secret track of those like her with some help. These kinds of supes didn't really represent a threat to Vought, so it was kind of easy to contact them and give them a possible solution with a warning written all over the place. When Electra was contacted, she had to think about it but eventually said yes. She was young and brave, but she never wanted powers. She had superhuman strength and healed in minutes, seconds even, her bones were indestructible, and when your people ran the proper tests on her she was healthy as hell. Pity that her body wasn't enough to take in the injection of the new Anti-V prototype.

You read the last notes your assistant typed on the supe's profile.

Cause of death: sudden cardiac arrest caused by ventricular fibrillation; failure in electrical signaling within the heart.

You couldn't continue like this, not anymore. Nine months and nothing seemed to work out. Some supes died, some of them quit the program, and you didn't really blame them for it. The failures were growing bigger than the small steps close to creating the final antidote. The process was becoming an endless trial and error. With a tired face and a sigh, you left the tablet on a desk and walked out making your way to your office.

You took out your cell phone and dialed Grace, walking around the room worriedly. You needed to vent or talk. Anything. And gladly, she picked up by the third ring.

"Is everything okay?" she asked on the other line. She knew you too well.

"I- No, it isn't. But you already know that," you breathed. "Another supe died on trial today. I don't know how many we have-" your voice cut off abruptly and you sighed, composing yourself after a moment. "We keep losing a lot of people..."

Grace exhaled. "It's part of the job. It's your project, you know it was coming when I approved to do this."

"That makes it even worse, you're not helping me," you replied with a playful tone. "I've been thinking- I would like to try the cure."

"No. We need you to focus on this."

"And when I get him, when I get Soldier Boy's blood? He already takes powers of supes with the blast. Should be easier."

"He's your safest option for now. You'll find a way to get it, I trust you. But don't make stupid and hurried decisions, just wait for the right moment," the lady scolded. You smiled a little, like if she was watching you. "About that, how's he doing? Is he cooperating?"

"Not at all, that's my other problem," you fell back on your chair ungracefully, your back hurting at the thought of seeing him again that day. "I am trying to get him to talk, even using my cards of dressing up like I'm a fucking slut with tight skirts and all, but he's really backing up. Besides he's a fucking dick," your words made Grace chuckle for a bit.

"All supes we have dealt with are dicks, especially Vought. But Y/N, you got this," her words attempted to make you feel better. "This is one of our best options to take them down for once. I know you've been working on this way long before you talked to me, and that's the reason I know it's gonna work, doing whatever it takes."

"Thank you, Grace," you mumbled from your heart. Disappointing her was not on your list, and you hoped it won't happen anytime soon. So you switched the topic of the conversation. "And how have you been?"

[fatkish]

Gyomei x Abused Cat Hybrid Reader

It was the day before Gyomei Himejima’s birthday. Tengen, Kyojuro, Kanae, Sanemi, Iguro, Kyogai, Tomioka, Goto and Haganezuka, Gyomei’s coworkers, were coming up with a plan to celebrate his birthday. Tengen already agreed to have the party at his house and that his wives would cook. Kyogai was in charge of music, Haganezuka would help out in the kitchen, Tomioka would keep Gyomei busy and bring him to Tengen’s house and Goto would get the cake.

The big issue was what to get the blind, cat loving teacher. As they were discussing and arguing over what to get him, Kyojuro got an idea. “I know! Let’s get Himejima a cat Hybrid!” Kyojuro shouted. “Do you even know where to get one, they’re pretty rare” Iguro asked. “I do, although it’s mostly just animals, I know that they also house hybrids that need homes” Tomioka informed. “I’ll give you guys the address to the facility” he said as he wrote down the name and address before handing it to Kanae.

“Splendid, let’s go.” Kanae cheered as she and the others left to go to the facility. When they got to the facility, they entered and asked the worker lady if they had any cat hybrids. The lady led them towards the back where they house the hybrids. “We do, although we don’t have very many, may I ask which of you is looking for one?” She asked. “The hybrid is for our friend, we’re surprising him with one for his birthday” Tengen informed.

The lady proceeded to lead them to you. You were a Ragdoll/Munchkin cat hybrid. You had been abused by your original owner and rescued, now you sit here waiting down the days til your put down. You have a history of attacking people who have tried to adopt you, you have two strikes already on your record, two more and you’ll be humanely euthanized. You’re rather untrusting of people especially males, and you tend to stay in your cat form.

“I’m afraid we only have the one, although they are rather skittish and unfriendly, they were rescued from their abusive owner so they’re rather violent” They peered inside at you, seeing your fluffy fur and slightly stubby legs, you were adorable and Gyomei was absolutely going to love you. “They’re absolutely perfect, don’t you guys think so, Gyomei will absolutely love them.” Kanae said. The others agreed. “We’ll take ‘em” Tengen said as he left with the lady to sign the papers in Gyomei’s name.

Sanemi entered the small kennel and grabbed you gently by the scruff and put you in a cat carrier all too quickly. You couldn’t even put up a fight. You hissed at him and puffed up your fur as you tried to make yourself as small as possible. As they left, Kanae left to get you some human clothes, while Kyojuro and Iguro left to get you a few other necessities.

Later, at Tengen’s house, the party began and Tomioka texted that he and Gyomei were on their way there. When Gyomei entered the house, they all surprised him and the party began. After eating and drinking and having cake, it was time for presents. They had gotten him cat themed stuff like cat erasers, cat shaped sticky notes, a coffee mug with cats on it, etc. after opening up the other gifts, Tengen came out of his bedroom with the cat carrier you were in.

When Tengen put the cat carrier in Gyomei’s lap you hissed at Tengen, surprising Gyomei. “What is this, is this what I think it is?” Gyomei asked. The others then spilled and told Gyomei about you and your past as well as your two strikes, hearing that you were abused, he cried and promised you that he would never hurt you. Kanae came over and gave Gyomei the stuff for you in a bag. “This bag contains stuff for y/n, that’s their name. It has clothes, toiletries and other necessities.” Kanae explained. With tears in his eyes Gyomei profusely thanked his colleagues.

Sensing your discomfort, Gyomei explained that he wanted to leave, to which his colleagues understood. Gyomei gathered all of the stuff and once again profusely thanked everyone before carefully picking up the cat carrier and heading out the door. As he walked home, he began to talk to you. “Y/n, I’m terribly sorry for how you have previously suffered and I promise that you have absolutely nothing to fear from me. I simply want for us to be able to live comfortably amongst each other. I promise I will never hurt you and I hope that I can provide a better life for you” Gyomei stated as he continued his walk.

Once he got home he unlocked his door and took off his shoes before walking into the living room and setting down your carrier by the couch. He then opened the door and set the bag of stuff for you down on the couch. “I’m sorry but I’m afraid I wasn’t expecting for you to come home with me so you’ll have to sleep on the couch for tonight but tomorrow I’ll help you get settled in and get you a proper bed. I’m going to leave some food out for you, feel free to help yourself. I have work tomorrow so I’ll be heading to bed here very soon” Gyomei told you as he walked into his kitchen and began putting some leftovers together for you and heating them up.

After heating up your food and leaving it out for you, Gyomei left the kitchen and entered his bedroom for the night and bid you goodnight. After an hour, you slowly exit the cat carrier and transformed into your human form. You ate the food that Gyomei left out for you and you put some clothes on that were in the bag. Since you see perfectly in the dark, you explored your new home and wondered how a blind man can get around so easily. After a bit of exploring, you pulled a blanket out of the bag and walked over to a corner before making a little nest and curling up then falling asleep. The next morning when Gyomei woke up he got ready to teach and made you both breakfast and lunch.

“I’ve made breakfast for you as well as lunch, I’ll put them in the fridge for you. If you’re hungry between them feel free to eat whatever you find. I have to go to work now, I work at a school so I won’t be home until 6 o’clock. Feel free to unpack the bag of stuff for you, tonight when I get home we can either go out and buy or order what else you need online. Goodbye” Gyomei informed you as he got ready and left for work. After he left you got up and ate breakfast before going through the bag of stuff for you. You found a couple outfits, some underwear, toiletries like a toothbrush, toothpaste, shampoo and conditioner as well as a brush for your fur. In the bag was also a collar and leash as well as a few cat toys.

After getting everything out, you decided to take a shower and get yourself all cleaned up while you had the chance. You didn’t expect to stay here for very long so you didn’t really bother with putting anything away but you made sure not to move anything around in case Gyomei wouldn’t be able to find it. After your shower you dried off using his towel, slowly inhaling the scent of the man. He smelled really good and you hated to admit it even to yourself.

As time passed you ate your lunch and took a nap until Gyomei got home. He took his shoes off and greeted you. “Good evening y/n, I hope you weren’t too lonely while I was gone. I ordered a cat tree with a scratching post and it should be here in a few days. I hope you enjoy it.” He smiled as he informed you. He walked into the kitchen and began making dinner for the both of you, you waited until he went to bed to eat and thus this became your habit.

Days like this pass as you have very few interactions with Gyomei. To your surprise, Gyomei has yet to get upset with you or force you to interact with him. When he realized that you had yet to put anything away from the bag, he cried. You found out that he cries very easily. Despite his huge frame, the man is actually very gentle and kind. When the cat tree came, he struggled with putting it together, you eventually sat beside him and helped him put it together. You figured it was the least you could do. Despite you being right next to him, Gyomei made no attempts to pet you, which you appreciated.

One night, after Gyomei went to bed, you waited and slowly crept into his room and jumped onto his bed in your cat form. You carefully approached the sleeping man and sniffed him before climbing onto his chest and nuzzling into him. After a lot of time spent near the man, you slowly became comfortable with being around him. Deciding to cuddle up to the man, you purred as you curled up to his chest and fell asleep, unaware that Gyomei was awake the entire time. In the morning, you get up before Gyomei and leave his room and get comfortable in your cat tree.

That day, when Gyomei got home early from work, he sat on the couch and relaxed. Sensing how tired he was, you slowly approached him in your cat form and jumped onto the couch, before walking up to him and rubbing yourself against his arm. You meow at him and crawl onto his lap and begin kneading the fabric of his shirt with your paws, careful not to ruin it. With tears in his eyes Gyomei smiles at you as he slowly reaches up to pet you between the ears. You purr and lean into his pets as he smiles and chuckles. “Such a sweet little kitten, thank you y/n” you licked his tears away as he cried. You then transformed into your human form and stretched out as you snuggled into the large man. You and Gyomei cuddled together that night and thus began the relationship between you and Gyomei.

[whumpback-wail]

06 -  Embrace

Trial by Fire (Wriothesley x Reader) - TW/CW in masterlist

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IMPORTANT NOTICE: Reminder that this fanfic contains dark and mature themes. The TW/CW are in the masterlist and are constantly updated as I add each chapter. Please reread the warnings, proceed only after you reread the warnings. If you don't like/can't handle the topics mentioned in the TW/CW, please DO NOT read. This work is 100000% fictional and any similarities to real life people and events are purely coincidental, and none of the characters (especially the villains) are real. Again, please DO NOT read if you are not certain you can handle these topics or are in a bad place mentally. Minors are strictly forbidden. I only create content, and I am not responsible for your personal content preference and moderation. If you think you will not like this story, please just scroll away. You have been warned.

The snow fell slowly, painting the streets of Fontaine white. Wriothesley's black jacket a stark contrast that stuck out against the white landscape as he briskly walked towards the hospital.

(y/n)...

The anger had slowly subsided, taking its place was a mix of guilt, worry, and something else he couldn't put a finger on. All he wanted that moment was just to hold her in his arms again, and let her feel safe.

Like muscle memory, he walked straight towards her room, but was stopped by a nurse.

“Your Grace, (y/n)’s room has been moved to a different one, a fire seemed to have started there but we managed to catch it before it caused too much damage.”

He cussed under his breath, “where’s (y/n)? Is she okay?”

The nurse nodded, “she’s alright, just a bit shaken. She told us fire suddenly burst out of the book by her nightstand just as she was reaching for it.”

And we’ve only got the information on vision injections today, what’s with this timing.

“Take me to her room.”

“Certainly, right this way, your Grace.”

The nurse, while explaining to him everything that happened, led him to a different floor from (y/n)’s previous room. He immediately knew which room (y/n) would be in once he spotted Navia’s 2 men in front of the door, who promptly stood up and gave him a salute, to which he nodded politely.

“Oh right,” Wriothesley turned to the nurse just as he was entering the room, “there are some new updates for everyone we rescued from that facility, one of Spina di Rosula’s men will be here soon with a copy of the files. Guys might need them for medical purposes.”

When he entered the room, his eyes immediately landed on (y/n), who he initially thought was asleep, until she opened her eyes. She must have noticed his grim expression, because she immediately sat up.

“Wriothesley? Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

He shook his head, taking a seat next to her. He wanted to spill everything and tell her that he knew everything. The things they did in the facility, the experiments, her… assault. But will it cause her to have another panic attack? Does she even want to know, or does she want to just forget? Does she have any idea what happened and how she could set fire to her book? Does she know her vision is still with her even now?

He blinked back his tears, refusing to meet her eyes, but (y/n) could tell from the way he gripped her hand, it was something serious.

“Wriothesley, love, you can tell me,” (y/n) placed a hand on his cheek, to which he automatically leaned into. “I can tell you’re probably worried about my mental state, but hey my therapist told me I’m doing well!”

He recalled, clear as day, the number of times he had tried to bring up questions about what happened at the facility. (y/n) had only managed to explain bits and pieces of information, but had been only the things she knew, she did mention painful injections but didn’t know that it was her own vision that was injected into her. Those sessions had always ended with her crying and panicking. He didn’t want to put her through that.

He smiled bitterly, “I know you are… I just don’t think you’re ready for this.”

(y/n) swallowed, “is it… is it about me?”

Wriothesley nodded, eyes still averted.

(y/n) squeezed the hand that held hers, “I… I think I’m ready to know more.”

Wriothesley looked up, now his steely blue gaze met with her concerned yet nervous ones.

“Are you sure?” his thumb rubbed circles into the back of her hand.

(y/n) took a deep breath, “yeah, I’ll tell you if it gets too much.”

Wriothesley nodded, and told (y/n) everything he learned. The experiments, the vision injections- (y/n) was really shocked at this, although she had a suspicion about it when she saw her book catch fire so suddenly. As he spoke, Wriothesley kept a close eye on her expression and gestures. He’s been with her long enough to know if she’s uncomfortable, or if it gets too much for her. Whenever her breathing hitched, he would stop for a bit and rub her back until she gestured for him to continue.

“That was all we got from the notes left behind at their base,” Wriothesley eyed (y/n) carefully. She was playing with a loose thread poking off the end of her blanket, eyes distant and looking as if she’s processing all the information.

Wriothesley knew he had to keep going. “and now we have Dougier under our custody.”

At the mention of his name, (y/n) visibly tensed up, “oh…”

“I heard he assisted in some of the experi- procedures.”

(y/n) hesitated, “did you manage to get more information out of him? Like how do we reverse the vision injections? How do I control it?”

“Apparently only Arderne knows that bit of information,” Wriothesley sighed, shifting nervously, “and right now he’s still at large. I assure you we’ll get him, and that you’re safe here, okay?”

(y/n) nodded.

The room fell silent for a few tense moments. (y/n) picked up her blubberbeast plushie and held it to her face. It smells like Wriothesley, as he had sprayed his cologne on it. It brings a feeling of comfort to her, as if a reminder that she is never alone and that he’s with her and keeping her safe even when he’s not by her side.

Watching her, Wriothesley hesitated, but he had to- need to ask her.

“(y/n).”

Sensing his change of tone, (y/n) tensed, her hand stopping mid stroke down her plushie’s back. She turned to him.

He seemed to hesitate, looking down at her blanket instead of her face. The silent stretched for what felt like hours before he finally raised his gaze to meet her eyes.

“At the facility- no. uhh… How do I say this.”

He rubbed the back of his neck, “How… How often do you throw up?”

(y/n) blinked, confused. “what?”

“Every morning these last few days, you wake up and rush straight to the bathroom. We did think it was a stomach bug, but when I asked the nurses for the diagnosis, it was as if they're hiding the information from me.”

She couldn’t breathe. It felt as if her blood was frozen but it burned at the same time. Fuck he knew. Wriothesley knew. He’s always been so observant how did she think she can even hide this from him?

“(y/n)... Are you hiding- uhh… Are-Are you pregnant?”

It was like a dam that burst. A sob escaped (y/n)’s lips, one that she tried to hold back but failed. That was confirmation enough for Wriothesley, who felt his own tears prickling behind his eyes. A split second later, (y/n) shot out of her bed, and with wobbly steps using her crutch, went straight to the bathroom. Wriothesley had gotten up to help, but was pushed away feebly. Quickly, she threw open the lid of the toilet and expelled the contents of her stomach into the toilet.

“(y/n)-”

“Don’t-” (y/n) sobbed, flushing the toilet and sinking down even lower onto the bathroom floor, “I don’t want you to see me like this. You shouldn’t have known about this.”

Wriothesley paused, then slowly took another step towards her, hands open as if trying to calm a scared animal. Before he had a chance to speak, (y/n) continued.

“I feel so dirty and gross. No matter how many times I showered and scrubbed myself I can still feel his hands.”

He took a step. “(y/n)...”

“I was going to take care of the abortion process myself, and just forget everything that happened. I didn’t want to tell you. I’m so sorry I couldn't tell you. I just feel so disgusting.”

Another step. “Darling please-”

“I don’t want you to look at me or think of me differently, I just want to put everything behind me, pretend none of that ever happened and just go back to how everything was.”

Wriothesley slowly sank to his knees beside (y/n), who scooted away from him, as if by reflex.

“Don’t touch me. I-I can’t… I know you’ll probably feel disgusted and hate me for it, for hiding it from you, for everything-”

On the contrary, seeing (y/n) like this only served as the final trigger that released his tears, which finally flowed freely down his cheeks. All he wanted to do was hold her and keep her safe, tell her he loves her and… She looked so broken he just wanted to hold her. Archons, please let me hold her.

“I’ll disappear from here if that’s what is best. Just say it. You don’t want me anymore-”

”(y/n),” his voice shook, “I’m so sorry that happened. I’m sorry I wasn’t there to get you sooner. No one deserved to go through what you did. Everyday I hated myself for it, I kept thinking I should have done this, or that. I should have gotten you sooner.”

(y/n) wiped her tears, only for it to be replaced by more. Her vision was blurry as she tried to look at him. Part of her was glad about it, as it probably hid the disgust in his eyes.

“I’m not disgusted by you, no, that was the furthest thing from my mind. (y/n) may I hold you? Please?”

(y/n) just kept sniffling and wiping her tears which seemed to flow endlessly, but made no move to scoot further away, so Wriothesley slowly approached her and took her hand in his. He placed a gentle kiss on it, which only made her cry even more.

“I’m sorry darling, I’m so, so sorry.”

He gathered her in his arms and held her tightly, as if afraid that she would disappear as soon as he let go.

(y/n)’s voice quivered as she asked “y-you don’t hate-”

“Sshhh…” Wriothesley placed a kiss on her forehead, his own tears fell off his cheeks and onto hers. “Something like this can never make me hate you, I promise. I understand why you wanted to hide it, but please know that you don’t have to. We’ll figure out our next step together okay?”

He didn’t know how long they both sat there on the bathroom floor, crying in each other’s embrace. It took a long while for (y/n)’s sobs and sniffles to die down. He kept one hand on her back, and the other stroke her hair, hoping to provide as much comfort as possible.

I love her.

“I wish you can see yourself through my eyes,” Wriothesley whispered in her ea, “it’s gonna be okay. I promise you, (y/n).”

His words were met with silence, as it has been the past few minutes.

“If nothing else I say sticks, at least please let this be the one thing you remember. It’s not your fault. I love you (y/n), you’re still the same old (y/n) I know and love, and Archons, no matter what happens I can’t imagine a life without you. I love you so much (y/n), none of this is your fault.”

He decided to wait a little longer before he noticed that her breathing was slower. Wriothesley peered at her face and saw that her eyes were closed.Tear tracks were still present on her cheeks, which he wiped away with his thumbs, before placing a gentle kiss on top of her head.

Slowly he shifted his position so that he was carrying her in a princess carry, with her head resting comfortably on his shoulder. He walked over to her bed and gently laid her down, tucking her in under the blanket, and placing her plushie right beside her.

For some time, he sat beside her, just admiring her features and tracing her cheeks all the way to her jaw with the back of his hand, light as a feather.

“We’ll get through this together, you and me. I promise you.”

[<<< previous chapter] • [masterlist] • [next chapter >>>]

(っ˘̩╭╮˘̩)っ(ノ_&lt;;。)

If you think reading this chapter is hard, imagine writing it :”D emotional damage

Apologies for the late update, and perhaps a steady decline in writing quality (I’m no writer, just doing this for fun!) as I have been swamped with work this past week after I was down with a bad cold for quite a bit (there’s been a bug around, and so many people were sick :”D) I sincerely thank all of you for your continued support for this series, I love you guys. Hope you all stay safe and healthy!

I hope the next chapter won’t be as hard to write because hoooo BOYE. my bf had to comfort me after I finished writing this chapter.

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[lambtotheslaughterr]

I Burn : Part Three

A Rafe Cameron Mini Series

[THIS STORY WILL CONTAIN THEMES OF NON-CON/DUB-CON, MENTAL-EMOTIONAL-PHYSICAL ABUSE, ETC. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. 18+. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT]

WC: 4.3k

Dividers provided by @firefly-graphics

PART TWO | MASTERLIST | PART FOUR

            Community service was a joke. The whole time you were pretty much frustrated. Working under the summer Virginian sun was not how you imagined spending your summer, but you also didn’t anticipate your parents having a mental breakdown & forcing you into an addiction facility. So, there you were, with your knees dirty from planting baby trees, the paint on your nails chipping from all the handiwork, & sweat building under your arms & between your thighs. You were at least relieved you chose to wear a skirt.

            You were taking a break inside the community center, watching the rest in the garden through the ground to ceiling windows. Nurse Carney was all smiles as she worked alongside Albert to lay down soil over the freshly planted flower patches. Siena worked alongside Renee on the far end of the garden. The at-risk youth kids were all high school age. You had been assigned to work with two of them, their names already forgotten. They too quite clearly didn’t want to be there so working with them was quick since hardly anyone said a word. For that you were relieved.

            You didn’t know how much longer was left of the service for today, but the clock on the wall over the door said it was nearly noon. You hoped you all would be back in the van & on your way back to the facility by then.

            Just as you were leaning back in your chair, your neck resting on the back of the chair, you heard the doors to the center open, bringing with it a hot wave of air. You groaned internally.

            Cracking an eye open, you suppressed your rage as Rafe came inside, his eyes set directly on you. You hated how fucking good he looked. He sported only a white tank top which was marked with sweat down the center of his chest & a pair of loose fitting cargo shorts. As he walked towards you, Rafe lifted his shirt to wipe at the sweat & grime on his face, shamelessly revealing the contours of his abdomen & the v-line at his hips. You squeezed your eyes closed & turned away.

            “Don’t be shy.” Rafe huffed out, you could hear the smile in his tone, “Nothing you haven’t seen plenty of before, I bet.”

            You wanted to ignore him, needed to ignore. Fortunately, the last couple hours you had hardly interacted with him, but you couldn’t deny feeling his eyes on you every now & then. You also couldn’t deny how your eyes would stray to him earlier as he was digging up holes for the trees, the muscles in forearms flexing & glistening with sweat under the sun. The image of those forearms wrapped around your body, tightening around you as he—

            NO!

            You stood up as if you had a bucket of ice water poured over you. Rafe watched you with amusement.

            “You good?” No. You were not good.

            “Fine.” You lied. As you made to pass him though, he held out his arm to block you from passing him. The feel of the palm of his hand against your hip was brief but the tingles from it lingered. You bit your lip to keep from breathing heavily. You glanced up at him through your lashes.

            “Where ya going? We still got a few mins for a break.” His voice was low, even but suggestive.

            “I’ve had enough of a break.” You responded, but even you could hear how much of a lie it was.

            Rafe chuckled at that, using the same hand that stopped you to turn you around. Your hip burned where his hand touched. He led the two of you away from the windows towards the backside of the community center. On this side of the building was a small lawn before the vast Virginian forest. Rafe slid open the doors & gently guided you out. You reprimanded your body for following in his lead, for allowing you to go with him without putting up a fight. It’s not like you wanted to be alone with him! At least that’s what you kept telling yourself to keep the images at bay.

            Rafe then closed the door behind the two of you as he led you to a bench near the tree line. You licked your lips, the salty taste of your sweat coating your tongue. You didn’t miss how Rafe watched your mouth. You were growing hotter than ever, more than just because of the summer sun.

            “Here.” Rafe pulled out a cigarette, handing it to you.

            You made a disgusted face, pushing his hand away, “No, thanks.”

            “No?” Rafe smirked as he brought the cigarette to his lips. Your eyes lingered on the stick resting against his pink, plush lower lip. “Not what I expected.”

            He lit the cigarette with a zippo, & you watched with slowed breath as a cloud of smoke billowed from between his lips & out of his nostrils. Fuck. He looked sexy. You blinked fast, looking away.

            “Why?” You asked, needing to focus on anything that wasn’t him.

            Rafe spoke around the cigarette hanging from his lips, “Just seemed the type.”

            “The type of people who smoke that shit are gross. Poor hygiene.” You commented. You had never been drawn or curious about trying a cigarette yourself. You hated the smell. But you’d be lying to yourself if you weren’t drawn to those who did smoke. There was something desirable about the look.

            “And you have good hygiene?”

            You shot him a pointed look, “Of course. I shower twice a day & floss. That’s more than ninety percent of the human population can say.”

             Rafe laughed lightly at that as he looked at you. His blue eyes stood out against his tanned skin. You could easily stare into them, lose yourself in them, look into them as he fucked you into your mattress. You winced, shaking your head to remove the thought from your head.

            “What are you thinking about?”

            He knew. You knew he knew, & he knew that you knew he knew. It was only a question to put on the spot.

            You chuckled humorlessly, “Why won’t you leave me alone? Is this funny to you?”

            Rafe’s eyes drifted to the top you wore before moving back up, “I think you’re hot.”

            The confession surprised you, & left you shuddering all over.

            “And only a little funny.” Rafe added as he leaned forward to look at you more, catching your eyes, “You get bothered easily. I like the look on your face when I tease you.”

            You rolled your eyes. He was like an annoying little brother.

            “Gets me hard.” Okay, absolutely nothing like a little brother.

            You felt your eyes widen, muscles stiffen. Was he hard right now? Would it be obvious if you checked to see?

            But as if he could hear your thoughts, Rafe brought his hand to yours, bringing it over the crotch of his shorts. A gasp left your lips as you felt the hard bulge there. When you meant to yank your arm away, Rafe secured his hold on your wrist, pressing the palm of your hand against his hardened cock.

            “It fucking hurts.”

            God, you knew what he meant. The walls of your pussy were clenching with need, hungry for him to stretch you out & fill you up. Your chest was heaving. Rafe leaned into you, his face near the side of your face as he spoke.

            “Do you imagine me fucking you as much as I do?”

            “Yes.” You breathlessly admitted as you squeezed your thighs together.

            “You want me to fuck you, don’t you?” His question made your spine arch. He brushed your hair behind your shoulder, allowing him direct access to your neck. You felt his lips ghosting over the skin there.

            “Tell me you want me to fuck you.”

            You bit your lip, words failing you. You did, you needed him to. Right here would be fine. You didn’t care. You wanted him to fuck you against the bench, to feel his hands on your hips as he took your mercilessly.

            You turned your face towards his, your mouths only separated by an inch. You finally opened your eyes, staring into his deep blue ones.

            Then he started laughing. And it wasn’t the sexy kind of laughing. He was laughing at you.

            “God, you’re fucking easy.” Rafe removed your hand from his crotch & stood up.

            You were mortified, confused. He tossed the nearly finished cigarette onto the grass & snuffed it out with the heel of his shoe. Rafe smirked at you as you felt scrutinized under his judgmental gaze.

            “Guess I was wrong.” Rafe said, “You do have a problem.”

            Feeling humiliated enough as it was, you shot forward, sure to shoulder check him as you did & practically ran back inside. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes & you angrily wiped them away.

            You were going to head back to the garden, tell Nurse Carney you weren’t feeling well, but before you could you ran into another person.

            “Sorry.” You muttered, not even glancing at the person. But the sound of your name stopped you.

            “Oh, my god. It is you.” You spun around & were further mortified by the person in front of you. She had been two grades above you in high school, but you were friends with her younger sister Courtney.

            “What are you doing here?” Lucy asked. She had been known as a ‘mean girl’ in your high school, so you immediately knew that if she put two & two together then it’d only be a day before everyone in your hometown knew about your whereabouts.

            “Court said you were abroad for the summer but uh…” She cocked her eyebrows knowingly, “this isn’t Europe.”

            “Hey, Luce.” You returned, swallowing down your discomfort. Your parents had told your friends & family that you would be studying abroad, too ashamed to admit they were putting their daughter up in a loony bin. “What are you doing here?”

            Lucy smirked proudly, “Volunteering for my senior thesis. You?”

            But her question already had her answer as Rafe suddenly appeared, “We were working with the at-risk youth.”

            Lucy jumped slightly at Rafe’s intrusion, but her surprise was quickly diminished when she noted how a cute guy was talking to her.

            “Oh, you guys are from the Arrowhead Center?” Lucy’s eyes flashed to yours, “How interesting.”

            Rafe swung an arm over your shoulders, pressing you into his chest, “We’re addicts.”

            Having had enough, you shoved him away & left the two of them, uncaring of Lucy. It’d only be a matter of time before you heard from your parents. They would certainly blame you for getting caught. Now they’d just have to come up with more lies. Lies you wouldn’t be able to keep up with.

            Back outside, you stormed up to Nurse Carney as she picked out flowers from their plastic pots to put into the ground.

            “I don’t feel good.” You forced out, “Heat.”

            She frowned, “You don’t look good. Well, alright.” She offered a sympathetic smile, reaching into her jean shorts pocket to hand you the keys, “Go sit in the van with A/C. We’re just about finished here.”

            You snatched the keys from her, mumbled a ‘thanks’, then marched towards the parking lot. You were tempted to steal the van, drive away from the embarrassment of today, but knew your parents would only make it worse. You had to be tougher, stronger. And the only way to get there would be to avoid Rafe at all costs the rest of your stay at the facility. The task was challenging, & it’d be the first time you made it your goal to avoid a guy, but if you were anything when it came to something you wanted, you were determined. Today would be the last time Rafe got the best of you.

            The rest of the week passed by in a blur. Even seeing Dr. Mooney again & your daily one-on-one sessions evaded your memory. You felt like your body had completely shut down, your mind with it. The humiliation you had faced last week had completely numbed you. Rafe had tried picking on you some more, but you hadn’t responded to any of his teasing. It was the only time you felt even a little bit good, was knowing that Rafe was getting frustrated that you were no longer taking his baiting. A win was a win, you reminded yourself.

            Now it was Friday. And you were looking forward to holing up in your room. Your burning urges had happened only a few times since the day at the community service, but not enough for you to act on them. Dr. Mooney had been evidently disappointed in the fact that you only had one entry in your journal—not that he was reading it—but he was pleased to hear that you hadn’t masturbated all week. You were too angry to, but you didn’t share that.

            And tomorrow wouldn’t help. Saturday was going to be a family day. Your parents would be coming to see you. You had been at the facility for a little under a month, & once a month the center has a family visitation day. Others in your group were looking forward to seeing their loved ones. Albert wouldn’t shut up about seeing his boyfriend. But you couldn’t join in on their excitement. In fact, you loathed seeing your parents again.

            You hadn’t heard from them since your run-in with Lucy, so you imagined they were saving their reprimand for when they saw you in person tomorrow. Joy.

            Currently, you were lying on your bed in your room with the door cracked. You were staring aimlessly at your ceiling when you saw a figure appear in the crack of your door.

            “Hey.” It was Albert. His usual luscious curly hair was tied into a low bun, “We got trash duty tonight. Did you forget?”

            You groaned outwardly. Albert smiled at that, clearly feeling the same, “If we do it quickly we’ll be done in no time.”

            Chores before bed was typical. You just loathed trash day. It meant everyone got paired up to go around the facility & gather trash to take it out to the dumpsters. A method to teach responsibility. But if you were taking out the trash, you only wished you could stuff Rafe into one of those black bags & deposit him in the filthiest corner of the garbage room.

            You swung your legs off the bed & slipped into a pair of your slippers. Fortunately, you were already dressed for bed. So, as soon as trash duty was done you could head back to your room & go right to bed.

            Following Albert out into the common area, you joined the others & Nurse Carney near the ping-pong table. You ignored the smirk on Rafe’s face when you appeared, choosing to stand on the other side of Albert away from him.

            “Good evening, guys.” Nurse Carney greeted, “You know the drill so no messing about. I expect to see everyone back here in thirty minutes. Siena, Renee, you two will work the east wing with me, and the three of you,” she waved her hand over you, Albert, & Rafe, “will take the west wing. Thirty minutes, let’s go.”

            Everyone slipped on some latex gloves before each grabbing a box of trash bags to reline the garbage’s. Albert led the way out of the youth wing, which was on the east side of the building, & towards the west side. You stayed close to him, feeling Rafe’s eyes burning a hole in the center of your back as he walked behind you.

            Once in the west wing, Albert offered taking the largest—& often grossest room—the indoor gym. Trash duty in the gym meant not only changing out garbage’s but also gathering the towels used the last couple days. But as grateful as you were for him taking on the most dreadful part of the task, it meant you were alone with Rafe.

            It was fine at first. Surprisingly. The two of you went in & out of rooms on either side of the hallway, gathering the filled trash bags & tossing them into a bin on wheels that you rolled down the hallway with you. Rafe said nothing, even though you could sense how badly he wanted to. And you said nothing either, didn’t even bother looking in his general direction. But you knew it was too good to be true to think you could finish trash duty without any bullshit from him.

            When the two of you neared the rooms at the end of the hall, furthest away from any potential lingering eyes, you felt a sudden heat at your back before your body was being pushed into a small & narrow closet.

            It was dark in the closet, save for the crack in the door that allowed a little light to stream in. Rafe gently pushed you up against a wall of shelves, his hips pressed against yours. The burning returned immediately, but you fought hard against the feelings, resolving yourself to not fall into another one of Rafe’s traps.

            “What the fuck is wrong with you?” He seethed. Even in the dark you could make out the heated look in his glare.

            “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You feigned, resisting against him as you attempted to push him off you. “Get off of me.”

            “You sure you want me to let you go?” He questioned. And you knew he intended for it to sound teasing, but even he couldn’t hide the frustration he was feeling thanks to your non-responsive attitude towards his taunts all week.

            “Yes.” You swiped his arms away from you, “You disgust me.”

            When you made to move away from him & out of the closet, he stepped in front of you, effectively cutting you off from your only escape route, “You’re lying. We both know it.”

            “No, Rafe.” You glared at him in the dark, “I’m not. You humiliated me. I’m just a joke to you. There’s nothing desirable about that. Just me alone, okay.”

            The second time you tried to move, Rafe grabbed your harshly, shoving you backwards into the shelving, jostling the items there. You gasped, gaping at him. But what you hated most in that moment was how your skin was erupting with those familiar goosebumps.

            “I won’t leave you alone.” Rafe seethed, “For as long as I’m here I will never leave you alone. And it’s about time you realize that.”

            Before you could argue with him, his mouth descended over yours. You whined into the kiss, both shocked & horrified that he was actually kissing you. Rafe brought a hand to the back of your neck, angling your face so he could have better access as he bit & licked at your lips. Your body was aflame. As much as your mind didn’t want this, your body was desperate for it. It had been too long, much too fucking long since anyone had touched you with want. Even your distaste towards Rafe flew out the window.

            A gasp left you when you felt one of Rafe’s hands slip into the front of your leggings. Rafe stopped kissing you, pulling away just enough to see the look of euphoria on your face as his fingers found your clit.

            “Rafe.” You gripped his wrist that was in your pants, “No.”

            “Yes.” He replied lowly, planting a lazy kiss on your open mouth. You felt your hips arch into his touch, desperate for more. As he circled your bundle of nerves, you felt his index & middle finger slip towards your slick entrance. A whine erupted from you. Your pussy was dripping. Fuck, how long had it even been? His touch was leaving a puddle in your underwear.

            Rafe pushed his fingers into you & began pumping them. You clung to him, fingers digging into the muscles of his shoulder as he fingered you. Your moans grew louder, enough to draw attention, so Rafe clapped a hand over your mouth.

            His lips left a wake of wet, searing hot kisses along your collarbone. As he kissed along the contours of your chest, you felt the smile on his face. You shared the same smile behind the palm of his hand. God, it felt good. So good. It’s like he knew how to play your body better than you ever did.

            Suddenly, the closet flooded with light. A disappointed moan left you as Rafe’s touch & body was removed from you.

            You felt dizzy & couldn’t comprehend what exactly was happening as Rafe turned towards the now fully open closet door. In your peripheral, you saw that Albert was staring wide-eyed at the two of you.

            “You fuckin’ mind?” Rafe spit out.

            As you caught your breath, which you would never truly catch until Rafe could finish making you cum, you noticed how Albert gave Rafe a heated, angry glare.

            “Get the fuck out.” Albert demanded, kicking back the bin behind him to make room, “Now.”

            “Fuck you, man. Mind your business.”

            Albert’s nostrils flared & you finally moved, although slowly. Your muscles tense.

            “This is my business.” Albert then reached past Rafe & yanked on your arm, pulling you out from the closet. When Rafe made to grab you, Albert stood between the two of you. He was taller than Rafe & was fearless as he stood up against him, “You leave her the fuck alone, creep. I catch you cornering her again & I will report you.”

            With that, Albert tugged you down the hallway.

            Your mind had cleared at this point, & you glanced over your shoulder to Rafe who now stood at the end of the hallway. He was quite clearly pissed off, his chest heaving.

            “What the fuck, Albert?” You ripped your arm out of his grip as you stomped ahead of him.

            “I should be saying the same thing to you. What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

            “You don’t get to interrogate me!” You raised your voice, stopping in the hallway to glare him down, “You’re not my mom, you’re not my doctor, you’re not even a fucking friend. So mind your own fucking business.”

            You continued on ahead, wanting nothing more than to get back to your room & finish what Rafe started but Albert cut you off.

            “You wanna fuck up your treatment, fine.” Albert shook his head, “And since I’m not a friend I guess you won’t mind me telling Nurse Carney what I just caught you & that fucking loser doing.”

            The threat immediately changed your mood & you chased after Albert, “No, wait, I’m sorry, okay?”

            Albert stopped to look at you, unimpressed by your antics.

            “I don’t know what just happened. But it won’t happen again.”

            Albert stared at you for some time before frowning, “Did he force you?”

            “What?” You replied, shocked at the implication, “No. He didn’t. It was… I wanted it. I wanted to.”

            He sighed, glancing back down the hallway but you two had made a curve at this point so Rafe was not in view.

            “We’re all here for the same reason, _____.” He began, “To better ourselves, to overcome our addictions.”

            You pressed your lips together.

            “And you’re right. I’m not your mom or your doctor. But believe it or not, I am a friend. And I wish I had a friend on the outside to keep me in line with my recovery. So, please, just take my advice. Avoid him. At least, for now. I can’t tell you what to do, but it’ll be better for you in the long run if you just give it a chance. Okay?”

            You felt like a child, having to bite your tongue, but with your parents coming tomorrow you couldn’t risk bringing more attention to yourself than your run-in with Lucy already would. So you nodded, feigning belief in Albert’s words.

            “Okay. I’ll stay away from him.”

            It was the middle of the night & you were restless. You had tried finishing what Rafe started but your touch was nothing compared to his. It was tempting to sneak down the hallway to his room, but the cameras in the common area were motion censored. You’d be caught before you even made it to his door. So, all you could do was lie there in horny frustration.

            But maybe a cold shower would help. There was no rule against going to the bathrooms in the middle of the night. Gathering your bathroom kit, you tossed your towel over your shoulder & crept into the hallway. The bathrooms were at the very end of the hallway, & you’d have to pass by Rafe’s door to get there. Though there were cameras, maybe just maybe, he was awake too & would hear you.

            He wouldn’t be able to follow you out, that’d draw too much suspicion & attention, but he’d know you were there, awake & restless because of him. But just as you were passing by his door, you halted in your steps. You strained your ears, wondering if you heard right. Inching just a bit closer to his door, you finally heard it. Breathy moans.

            Your thighs shook with need. Rafe was moaning, grunting, breathing heavily. All the audio you only dreamt about hearing. You licked your lips, your eyes fluttering as you pictured him just on the other side of the door with his cock hard & sprung, fisting it in his hand as he got himself off. If it wasn’t for the cameras, you’d rest against his door & get off with him, without him knowing. You just needed to cum with him.

            And then, like hearing the most beautiful piece of music created just for you, Rafe said one word mixed within the breathiness of his moans.

            It was your name on his lips.

part three! gonna try to update this series & the Rise series as much as i can in the next 2 weeks before i start my new jobs.

as always, please share your thoughts w me! comments, reblogs w reviews, & asks are the bees knees.

thank you for reading!

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Dunes & Waters, part 46

PART 1 • PREVIOUS PART • NEXT PART

Remus,

Congratulations, although of course I didn’t doubt you’d manage for a minute. (Remember how bitterly you complained about the Curse Breaker I got for you? Want to take that back now?)

I’m out of the country for the next two weeks, and would rather not have anyone else subjected to Black - the last person I entrusted the bastard with ended up shagging him, would you believe that?

I’ll come two days after the full, should give you time to recover. I’ll take Black’s tracking charm off and bring him the release paperwork from the Egyptian Ministry of Magic. Let him know won't you, I’d rather not have to write him directly if it can be avoided.

Oh, the Department of Magical Creatures can’t wait to get their hands on the potion, have it ready for me to take as well?

Kingsley

***

Kingsley,

I refuse to acknowledge any issues there may or may not have been regarding the Curse Breaker.

Sirius will be ready for you. How long until he’s allowed back in Egypt?

Shouldn’t the potion stay here? I have to keep in good standing with the Egyptian research facilities and I can’t imagine anyone here would be pleased about yet another artefact of theirs getting smuggled to Britain.

See you after the full,

Remus

***

Remus,

You are a harbinger of trouble for me. The moment your letter came through, the EMM sent me a representative to dispute the removal of your research from Egyptian soil. They don’t even know what it’s about and the moment they got the goods declaration portkey paperwork they were up in arms.

Leave it with the curator at Aswan Library and they’ll do as they need.

Also, Black is never allowed back, as per stipulation from EMM for his release. Didn’t he tell you that?

Kingsley

***

Never allowed back.

Remus can see the words, in Kingsley’s efficient, militant handwriting, in everything Sirius does. He picks out peaches at the market, and they flash before Remus like memories. Wakes up in the morning, and the stretch rearranges the lines of his tattoos. They’re spelled in the spill of dark hair on a white pillow.

Because Remus can’t leave. He worked his whole life to be allowed to be there, against prejudice and against academic rivalries. His speciality is Egypt. He can’t study Egypt from anywhere but there.

And Sirius can’t come back.

***

Remus doesn’t do things by halves. He’s not a man who can be casual. It’s why his first real interest became his lifelong career. Why he’s managed to stay with it, despite the obstacles.

Why, now, as he sees Sirius wake up by his side, when they only have days left together, he knows that this is it for him. This is the man his heart and his mind had chosen, for better or for worse. Even when he’s gone, and Remus is left behind, it will be him.

An image forms, of a time some months or years down the line. Searching for something fleeting and meaningless. Leaving beds at night, leaving behind limbs that aren’t Sirius’. Pointless endeavour because Remus doesn’t do casual and, after having Sirius, after losing Sirius, he won’t be able to do permanent either.

He’s had his permanent. He has it still, even if it’s only temporary.

It’s an oxymoron, but Sirius is so many of them. Brash and loud, then soft and careful. Caring and careless. A hurricane made flesh inside a body too human to contain it.

Remus presses his lips and his teeth into pulse points like he could taste the heartbeat.

The last line of the translation comes together.

If you do not return, my beloved, if the gods block your path, I will meet you again in the Afterlife. 

“She was willing for her love to die? Just to have control during the full moons?” Sirius says in shock, like his heart cannot contain such a thing. Like he, himself, would never, like the price is too steep.

“She was willing to give her love the option.”

“That’s not a good option.”

Remus smiles into the crook of Sirius’ neck. It’s endearing, how sure he is of his opinions. “That’s not for you to decide.”

Sirius pushes him away, looks him in the eye, all humour gone. “You promised me.”

“I did. And I’ll promise again. I won’t drink it.”

Relief, a pull, and they’re tangled up again.

“It’d be a waste of it anyway. The EMM will probably assign a Potions Master to work on it. Maybe they’ll figure out how it works, make it safe.”

“Do you think you’ll be allowed to work on it with them?”

“Maybe. Hopefully,” Remus has been thinking about this, about what comes next, in all aspects of his life. “I wonder if they’ll let me publish the findings. I think there are some journals that would be interested. If not… I had other things I was working on before the Box. None as exciting, but it’s something.”

Remus turns onto his stomach, pulls Sirius underneath him. “I think, most importantly, we deserve a holiday,” he’s aware of why he says it, why he takes time off work to spend it with Sirius but he won’t voice it. “Anything you want to see before you leave Egypt? Tell me. I’ll take you anywhere.”

Sirius touches him softly and gently and like he’s precious, but there is something closed off in his face, like already he’s half gone.

NEXT PART

@tealeavesandtrash

@moon-girl88

@hoje--aqui

@cocoabutterandbooks

@onion-sliced-apples

@prancingpony42

@digital-kam

@remoonysiriusly

@sweetstarryskies

@a-sunset-outside-my-window

@procrastinatingstuff

@annaliza999

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@goldenprophetwrites

(let me know if you do/don’t want to be tagged!)

[dairy-farmer]

>:Dc

You know~ I was a pondering~ the FASCINATING plot potential of Pink Kryptonite on an ALREADY Hella Bi Kon? When I realized! Why not make it SPICIER~♡?

Because I DO so enjoy? That "thrill and danger of sleeping with a living God. A man who's very body is so strong it not only can crush you, but they have to ACTIVELY try NOT too. Who you touch and it feels like touching living marble." Vibe~! On TOP of Alien Sex and good ol Wholesome Kent Boys!

Because yes PLURAL!

What IF? Suspect research facility? What they up too *suspicious squint*? Why your building lead lined? Gasp! Kryptonite research! Luthor! Fuck, not AGAIN! They are trying to make artificial Kryptonite, because (for obvious reasons) the Justice League keeps finding and DESTROYING any natural supplies.

Infiltration Time.

Superboy(Jon) is NOT allowed to come. But Kon can. In fact, he insists. And? It would be good bonding? Clark is trying to be better. Is still awkward around him. But there is improvement!

Kon, of course, brings Tim. For hacking and mostly emotional support. Also Kryptonite containment if they find any. Batman is somewhere in Prague. Let's go team!

Honestly? It was a terrible fucking idea. Clark should have asked someone NOT deathly allergic to this specific rock to do it. Tim carrys the mission HARD. They destroy stones. Destroy chemical supplies. Research gets copied and obliterated. They barely manage to avoid a few "evil superman" scenarios. Stressful all around.

0 out of 10 stars in Tim's book.

But there is one building left. Well separated from the others due to a heavily redacted "incident" Tim doesn't have the time to decrypt. One left right? And at least they KNOW it's not Red in there. Let's go.

And, see, neither Kon nor Tim have ever SEEN Pink Kryptonite before. Only Clark has. The NATURAL crystals? Made him a rather flaming Queen for a while. He hit on Jimmy. And? The solid, dull, magenta BLOCK of rock in the lab they find? Deeply artificial. Clearly meant to try and REPLICATE Pink Kryptonite.

Hits Clark like a magically backed punch to the lower gut. He can see Kon stumble out of the corner of his eye. Everything feels... warm and pleasant against his skin. Tingly. Oh... oh no.

Kon's hair suddenly looks so nice. Soft and fluffy. Clark's eyes are being dragged over his figure almost against his will. No.. NO! That is his... his SON. Cousin? Clone! Blood! S-stop that! He wrenches his gaze away and... oh.

Oh, Tim grew up WELL, didn't he?

He's leaning over to examine the block. Unaware of two sets of eyes locked like hunters onto him. Effects like Pollen, that he can not feel. It.. IS weird that Kon has stopped chatting though. He was making fun of the lab, wasn't he? Hey, Superboy, what's uuu-? Uuuuh you guys... good?

Tim contains the rock. Quickly. No dice. Apparently the exposure was enough. Will need to wear off. He inches around the two fixated Kryptonians to a computer console. What the HELL is going on? He finds out. Compares it to Bat computer notes. Mixed compound? Likely lack of impulse control...

Well... Shit.

Okay. Okay, don't panic. Just call Lois for Clar-! Tim is airborne. Heeeeey, Supes! Wanna put me down? Gonna just call your wife real qui-. Nah. Clark wants you. He hugs Tim like a teddy bear from behind, carefully of course. Steel bands would be easier too escape. Clark rubs his cheek against Tim's hair and neck. Soft~

Kon? Well HE always really, REALLY wanted to eat Rob out. The guy's super squirrelly. He legit thinks a few dozen orgasms might fix like... SO much about his life. Or at least would help with the constant STRESS. And he LOVES the guy. Plus Kon is GREAT with his tounge! He's been practicing. Getting tips.

And for some reason? He can't think of a reason NOT too right now.

So now Tim is in the air, feet not touching the ground, trapped between two drugged out Kryptonians, and getting his PANTS undone. Kon? Kon, buddy!? Next thing he knows, his legs are being held in place by immovable hands, tossed over his friends shoulders, and Kon is dipping forward.

Hot and wet plunders as it pleases, making him jolt and squirm. But he can't escape. Can't get any leverage. Even if he could, he's being held by SUPERMAN, what good would it do?

Kon's tounge is less relenting then a human's. It's almost like being teased by the wet drag of a toy. Clark is kissing his neck. Holding him easily with one arm, now. The other working open his uniform. His powerful hand sliding in to run lightly, so very lightly, across Tim's chest.

And from what feels like an iron bar digging into his back? Clark has completely forgotten the "no threesomes unless I get to be apart of it and/or watch" rule that Tim is technically not supposed to know about. Lois is going to murder him.

He'd care more, if there weren't fingers carefully working there way into him. Distracting him and starting to melt his brain. Kon CHEATING, using his stupid TTK to run hands that aren't there over skin and press kisses everywhere. And when Kon fumbles open his costume, desperate, hands hovering but not touching. Trying not to GRAB because he's so, so turned on and doesn't even trust himself right now?

Clark just rumbles "I got you" from behind Tim like this isn't surreal. Like he's not about too-. And Clark just crowds closer and slides Tim ONTO Kon like he's some sort of shared toy. Because, Tim is vaguely and hysterically aware off, if KON slide home? He might accidentally break Tim's pelvis! Or worse!

And Kon is gripping Clark's arms hard enough to bruise. Hissing through his teeth as he makes himself stay still. Because Tim feels so, so damn good. Clark is rocking him, steady and perfect as you please, a waterfall of murmured praises falling from him.

Then, when Kon's shuddering apart? His grip relaxing and control returning? He helps Clark. Pulls Tim into HIS arms. Lifts him up and slides him down on to the wet dream of most of the planet. They take turns. It's hours before Tim touches the floor again and by that point they've flown back to the Nest.

Tim seemed tired, after all.

Tim manages to distract them with Needy Demands from their almost medically exhausted fucked out Robin. Manages to army crawl across the bed to a silent alarm. Nightwing, bring the GREEN Kryptonite and red sun lamps or so help me, you'll be down a brother.

*near immediate sound of nearby window crashing open*

FOR FUCK SAKE, I HAVE A DOOR!

Just? The spirit is willing but the flesh is squishy Human, guys. There are two of you. You are both LITERALLY super human! It's in your ACTUAL CAPE NAMES. P-put down the Tim... w-we can talk about this! *ravished like a romance novel Protagonist* oh nooooo~♡ lol

Kon feels moderately bad about it. On one hand? Mmmmmm~♡ Tim sex. Nice. But on the OTHER? Big Oof. Leaving your bed partner one big bruise from Too Much Sexing is BAD. Deeply conflicted.

Would delicious take out from that place you like in Italy and all the oral you desire help? *interested Tim noises*

Clark? Hunted for sport. Lois? Terrifying but moderately understanding. It WAS Kryptonite. But BATMAN? You fucked his baby boy, Clark. Didn't even take him out dancing first. You, a married man, old enough to be his father, FUCKED HIS BABY BOY. *smashs bottle and menaces with the jagged edge* Run.

-🐼🐼🐼

bruce would NOT let clark know peace 😭😭😭

[letthewhumpbegin]

75 Hours - a Hawaii Five-0 fanfiction

Fandom: Hawaii Five-0 (2010) Characters: Steve McGarrett, Danny Williams Prompt: this was written for day 14 of @whumptober, prompt: Left for dead. Word count: 2162 Warnings: contains descriptions of injury, blood, wounds, medical procedures. Implied torture.

A/N: I might be tempted to write a second chapter to this at some point. Let me know if you would be interested in that 😇😁

73 hours and 14 minutes.  That was how long Steve had been missing, presumed abducted by a kartel they had been investigating, and it had been the longest hours of Danny's life. He hadn't slept, apart from a few naps where he had just fallen asleep, exhausted, at his desk whilst going over leads that would hopefully bring them to Steve.

Danny worried for Steve. If they found him, what state would he be in? Would he even still be alive? This kartel wasn't exactly known for being kind to the ones they kept prisoner, or for releasing them alive in that matter. 

73 hours and 20 minutes.  Danny slammed the file on the kartel shut. Too many horrible images of how they had found other abductees of them over the years. He simply refused to accept that something like this could happen to Steve, but he found it more and more difficult to eradicate those thoughts from his mind.  Every minute that passed without them finding him, meant one minute of Steve getting closer to some horrible death. And Danny already believed that the past three days had been anything but pleasant for Steve. 

73 hours and 37 minutes. Commotion, lots of commotion around the station. Why? Had someone finally gotten a useful lead?

"What's going on?" Danny immediately asked as Chin poked his head around the door of his office. "It looks like we’ve found them." Chin had a worried look on his face, though. Danny jumped to his feet, still. "You don't sound hopeful?" Chin shook his head. "There apparently has been much suspicious activity at this abandoned plant, but all of that stopped abruptly this morning according to our witness." "Oh…" Danny felt all his hopes sink into his shoes. He knew what that could mean…

73 hours and 58 minutes. Chin was behind the wheel of the car that now sped down a dirt road, leading up to an old logging plant which had gone out of business several years ago. It was a desolate area, not common for passersby, and otherwise abandoned. Ideal for keeping prisoners and doing shady business, Danny thought.

Danny pushed away his doubts over the witness that had sent them down this trail. Because, how had this anonymous witness come to know about this? And why had they only decided to report this now that all activity had stopped? For now, Danny chose to conveniently forget about those doubts, and clung to the hope that they would find Steve. He didn't even care anymore whether it was unscathed or not, if they just found him. 

74 hours and 5 minutes. Danny jumped out of the car even before it had come to a full stop. He was followed by Chin, Kono and every SWAT agent and police officer that was available.  "Steve!" Danny didn't even care anymore if there still were kartel members here, he just needed to find Steve.

Danny burst into the warehouse of the logging plant. It was a large facility, with many places to hide illegal produce, any prisoners they might have… and dead bodies.

Where most of the other law enforcement members focused on the lower levels, Danny trotted up the stairs to the first floor offices, taking three steps at a time.  Immediately, he had a bad feeling about this. Something about a discarded set of daggers lying around, spent shell casings all over the floor, and array of suspiciously stained leather belts, confirmed all his worst fears.

"Steve?" Danny's voice broke over his friend's name. His attention was drawn to a door, slightly ajar, at the end of a short corridor. An ominous foreboding settled in Danny's chest.

Danny approached cautiously, weapon drawn, and slowly pushed the door open.  All the windows in what appeared to be an office space were boarded up, leaving no way for daylight to come in. But Danny had no trouble seeing what he had feared to see all during the past three days…

74 hours and 15 minutes. "No…" Danny fell to his knees in the doorway. He didn't mean to do it, but his legs would not support him any longer. All hope seemed lost at the sight in front of him. Because, there, in the middle of the room, lay Steve. Left by the kartel, broken, beaten, wounded, and dead or soon to die. 

Steve lay on his side. His torso was bare and the many wounds were clearly visible. His back was bloody with something that looked like whip marks, his arms were littered with cigarette burns, and his chest was covered in lacerations of various depths. A stabwound to his side had caused a pool of blood to form around him. 

Danny crawled over to Steve. "No, no, no…" He stammered under his breath. This could not be happening, not after all their effort to find him, Danny could not accept that Steve was dead.  The kartel had most likely tried everything to get information out of Steve. And whether he had finally given it up or if the torture had rendered him too severely injured, he had ultimately been left for dead. 

Finally, Danny could reach Steve. He reached out a hand for his friend's shoulder. The skin was still somewhat warm to the touch. Danny pressed his fingers against Steve's neck to feel for a pulse. Everything inside him wished to feel the thumping of Steve's heartbeat, but he knew the chances were slim for that.

Thump…. Thump…. Thump….

"Wh–?" Danny lifted his fingers and pressed them to Steve's neck again.

Thump… Thump…. Thump….

"Oh, my god." The heartbeat he felt was only shallow and way too fast, but it was there. Or was it? Or did he only feel it because that was what he wished for so badly? Danny moved his hand gently to the middle of Steve's chest. He tried to ignore the fact that his hands were getting stained with Steve’s blood as he felt for a breath, or how he could feel the wounds to Steve’s chest beneath his fingers. 

But there it was…. Only feebly, but Steve’s chest rose just enough against Danny’s flat hand for him to feel it. Danny released something that held the middle between a sob and a cry in relief. Steve was alive! It might only be just, but he was alive.  Danny swallowed to find his voice back, before he bellowed from the top of his lungs.

"I FOUND HIM! HE’S ALIVE!"

74 hours and 17 minutes.  Steve stirred slightly at the sudden volume of Danny’s voice. He groaned weakly, whimpering against the pain that immediately came back along with the limited amount of consciousness. 

"Don't move." Danny soothed. "We're getting you out, just don’t move." "...D–Danny…" Steve whimpered his friend's name. It wasn't much, but to Danny it was the loudest cry for help he'd ever heard from Steve. "It's me, buddy," he eased, "I'm here." Steve moved his hand ever so slightly, but Danny understood the question. He slipped his hand into Steve's and held it to let Steve know he was there with him. 

Now that there was some form of consciousness to him, Steve's breaths sounded ragged, laced with pain and distress.  "Hey." Danny gave Steve's hand a soft squeeze. "Calm down, help is on the way." Steve opened his eyes just enough to look at Danny sitting next to him. His gaze was glassy and unfocused, but Danny was still glad to see it. Steve's fingers powerlessly curled around Danny's hand, as a shuddering, whimpered breath rolled off his lips.

"Easy." Danny tried to keep himself calm as well. It was scary to see how bad Steve's condition was, and help needed to come quickly now.  "...cold…so cold…" The words hardly made sense as Steve was almost too weak to speak. "Cold, right, I can do something about that." Danny looked around at anything that he could possibly use to cover Steve with and keep him warm.

Apart from a few damaged and empty filing cabinets and a broken desk, nothing else was in the room. Danny remembered seeing a larger office at the beginning of the corridor as he came upstairs, but that meant he would have to leave Steve for a moment, and he wasn't going to do that. 

74 hours and 20 minutes. "Danny?!" Chin's voice sounded along with hurried footsteps up the stairs.  "In here!" Danny called out. Chin's arrival came at the perfect time. "See if you can find a blanket or a jacket."

There were some rummaging sounds, but finally Chin stepped into the room. "Oh, no…" His face fell at the sight in front of him. "Is he…?" "He’s alive," Danny answered, "but we need to get him to a hospital now." Chin swallowed back the apparent lump in his throat. "The paramedics were a few minutes behind us, they should be here by now. I’ll bring them up here." Chin handed Danny the jacket he had found in the other office space, before storming back down the stairs to fetch the paramedics. 

Danny turned his attention back to Steve. He momentarily took his hand out of Steve’s limp grip to drape the jacket over his friend. Steve groaned weakly in discomfort as even the slightest touch hurt him. "I’m sorry," Danny mumbled, "I know it hurts." Steve’s eyes fluttered. His breathing was laboured and uneven, and he had started shivering all over. 

Danny couldn’t do much else than watch his friend deteriorate in front of his eyes and wait for medical help to arrive. "Easy, buddy." Danny gently held Steve’s hand again. "... Danny…" Steve groaned weakly. "I’m here," Danny soothed, "hold on, you’ve got to hold on. You’re not leaving me to fight the criminal population of Hawaii all by myself. You hear me? That’s not going to happen."

Danny wasn’t sure anymore who he was trying to calm down most: Steve or himself. It scared him shitless to see how weak Steve was, and how close he was to losing him altogether. 

74 hours and 25 minutes. The sudden sound of multiple running footsteps up the stairs announced the arrival of the paramedics. "In here!" Danny called out again, even though he knew Chin was leading the way. 

Things happened in a flurry after that. Paramedics gently shoved Danny away and he had no other choice than to let go of Steve. Danny could only watch as the paramedics worked. They inserted an IV-line, hooked Steve up to a heart monitor and applied an oxygen mask. All their faces were very serious, and Danny was once again confronted with how dire this situation was. 

Somewhere in the past minutes, Steve had passed out again. He was completely unresponsive and limp as the paramedics worked to get him stabilised enough to be transported. And maybe it was for the best, because everything would undoubtedly hurt his wounds unbelievably much. 

Danny watched from a little distance, nervously fidgeting his hands together. "Come on, Steve," he mumbled under his breath, "don’t give up now. You can’t leave me like this." He followed every move the paramedics made and listened minutely to every beep of the heart monitor. As long as they continued and the beeps held some sort of rhythm, it meant Steve was still there. 

Finally, after what felt like hours, Steve was loaded onto a gurney. "We need one of you to accompany us to the hospital." One of the paramedics turned to Danny and Chin. Danny exchanged a glance with Chin, but both of them already knew who that was going to be. "That’ll be me," Danny spoke up. The paramedic nodded. "We’ll be leaving right away."

The team of paramedics wheeled Steve out of the room. Danny blew out a deep breath. This wasn’t over yet, not even close, but at least Steve was now getting the help he so desperately needed.  "Keep me posted, will you?" Chin asked before Danny could leave. "Yeah, of course." Danny nodded wearily. "I’ll call you as soon as I know more."

Danny sprinted out of the room and hurried down the stairs two steps at a time.  The paramedics were already loading Steve into the ambulance, and Danny climbed in shortly after them. The sound of the ambulance doors slamming shut and the siren turning on were a strange kind of blessing to him. 

Out of habit, as he had done so many times in the past days, Danny checked his watch. 

75 hours.  The kartel might have left Steve for dead, after putting him through all kinds of torture, but he wasn’t going to die. Danny would make damn sure of that. Steve was now being taken to the best medical care Hawaii had to offer, and Danny would be there every step of the way. Right until the moment Steve would open his eyes again, and Danny would be certain he was going to be alright. 

Writing masterlist

Author's note: this fic will get posted onto my AO3 and FF.net account as well in the coming weeks.

[decks-writing-blog]

Whatever the Fuck Benrey is: Chapter Twenty: Caring For Him Has Downsides

Chapter One

Previous Chapter

~

“Wow, we used to kinda be like neighbors, huh?” Gordon said as they stopped at the door leading to the lab Benrey’s handlers had been set up in. “Or not neighbors, I guess but… I used to work a bit further down there.” He gestured down the hall they’d been heading down. “How come I never saw you around before the test?”

Benrey had rarely spent much time here outside of when his handlers wanted him for something and had always left as soon as they were done. This part of the facility was boring and his handlers had been annoying, why would he want to spend more time than needed near them and their dumb lab? And… “A lot of people from around here knew me so they wouldn’t’ve been as much fun to stop for their passports and stuff. So I didn’t hang out around here.” The team assigned to him had been relatively small so maybe it wasn’t quite ‘a lot’ but they had shown him off to their friends occasionally before he’d started actively resisting such annoyance. “But I heard there was a big experiment thingy going on over there and I wanted to disrupt it a bit before heading out to get Heavenly Sword.”

“I don’t think any of us are surprised,” Bubby said at the time as Gordon said, “Figures.”

“Well you chose the perfect test to disrupt,” Coomer said, “because look at you now! Free at last and about to start a happily ever after with Gordon. Let’s continue, shall we?” He turned to the door and jiggled the handle. “It’s locked.” Stepping aside from it, he gestured for Benrey to proceed.

They’d run into several locked doors during this little trip. Benrey had phased through them all to unlock from the other side, letting the others through. Each one had reminded him to dread this moment a little more. Not that it really mattered, he didn’t care that much if they knew he had a weakness but… it would still be nice if no one ever knew. That wasn’t happening though and this was one of the benefits to bringing them along since… “I can’t phase through it.”

All four of them turned to look at him. He didn’t flinch or cringe under their collective gazes though because he didn’t care, it was fine. Not a problem at all. He was mostly bored with these proceedings.

“There’s something you can’t phase through?” Tommy asked.

“Uh… yep. Just got done saying that.”

“What is it exactly?” Gordon asked. “Is it like a certain material you can’t phase through or like a device or something inside that somehow blocks you? … If you don’t mind sharing anyway.”

Of course he’d want to know; he wanted to know everything. Benrey was a scientific marvel and he was a scientist after all, what else could one expect? If he knew how to contain Benrey would he want to try it? … Almost certainly no, right now anyway. After going through Benrey’s files though and thus needing to study him directly to learn anything more, he might be tempted to. Which Benrey hadn’t been thinking about when agreeing to let him look. It would be a good reason not to, especially since he’d been given leave to change his mind. But he needed to know if Gordon cared about him more as a scientific marvel or a person. Benrey would give him what he wanted and then see if he would push, poke, and experiment to find out more or when Benrey asked him not to, if he’d listen.

It was important. Gordon was making him feel too many emotions for Benrey to not need an answer. It would suck and maybe even… hurt if he didn’t listen and would perhaps end in Benrey losing his freedom. But he could hope Gordon would listen to him, right? That was a reasonable thing to hope for… maybe.

Before the silence could become awkward… “It’s uh… kinda like plexi-glass but tinted orange. I don’t know what it is, only that I can’t go through it and they paneled the room with it. Real lame.”

“I suppose I’ll have to bust it down then,” Coomer said as he turned back to face the door and placed his flashlight off to the side, pointing at it. “Stand back everyone.”

As everyone stepped back to give him more room, Coomer took a stepped towards the door, cracked his knuckles and rolled up his sleeves, revealing his mechanical arms. Maybe now that Black Mesa was back doing stuff, Gordon could get something like that to replace his hand. If he was willing to get the gun hand chopped off though which seemed to be a problem. Probably a weird trauma thing related to it having been chopped off in the first place.

Coomer squared up to the door as if he were about to box it. Which is about what he did as one of his fists shot out, slamming into and then through the door with a crunch of breaking wood. The barrier of not plexi-glass stopped it but not without a cracking sound. His second punch hit the same spot and then the third burst through.

“Victory!” he announced for himself as he pulled back to lift his fists in a victory pose. Bubby started clapping, quickly followed by Tommy and then Benrey. Sleep deprived Gordon was the slowest at picking it up but after fumbling a bit, clapped his hand to his forearm, adding to the applause as it petered out.

Stepping forward, Coomer stuck an arm through the hole he’d made, putting himself in up to this shoulder. A few seconds later the door’s lock click as he evidently found it. After pulling his arm out, he turned the knob and pushed the door open, revealing the lab. “Lead the way.” He gestured for Benrey to go in again.

Having been in there many times before, Benrey had no problems doing so and thus went in without hesitation. Maybe he should tell the others to stay out. … Nah, it didn’t matter. It was fine.

Inside was dark of course but with five flashlights, there soon wasn’t much that couldn’t be seen. Panels of the barrier, all over the walls doors and ceiling, only small gaps between so Benrey, even at his smallest couldn’t fit through, reflected some of the light as well. Making the room almost well lit. It was clean too; if his handlers had been killed it hadn’t been in here. Which wasn’t surprising as in addition to him they’d had other projects they’d been working on too and the test thing had been a big deal, drawing many folk over to watch.

“Was all this to keep you in or out?” Tommy asked, shining his light up at the ceiling which was also covered in the orange tinted barrier stuff.

Before Benrey could answer, Bubby did it for him. “Probably both.”

“Uh… yeah, both. I got in once when I wasn’t supposed to and then they fortified it a whole bunch ‘cause they’re super lame.”

Gordon strode further in to pan his light over the back of the room where the various thingies used to test Benrey or draw his blood were located. “Jesus fucking Christ.” Apparently even sleep deprived he still wanted to be weird. Which was a good sign. As annoying as it was, it meant he cared and even if he did end up viewing Benrey more as a scientific marvel than a person, he’d likely still be nice about it. “This stuff is…”

“It’s boring and lame and sucks,” Benrey interrupted, not even bothering to look over at whatever exactly Gordon was looking at because he didn’t care. “Don’t feel bad for me.” He didn’t need pity when he couldn’t be physically harmed in any way that mattered and only felt emotional pain from people he cared about which hadn’t been any of his handlers.

“Nah, feel bad for him,” Bubby cut in again. “Black Mesa sucks. We should gather up as much stuff outta here as we can and destroy the rest.”

“Good idea, Bubby!” Coomer said as he turned to start prying one of the barrier panels off the wall. Bringing it with them, especially so much of it, was a less than fun idea but… theoretically, it’d be worse in the hands of the other Black Mesa members.

So, leaving him to it while the others set to their own self appointed tasks, Benrey turned to the computers. They main thing they were here for. All his data stuff was logged onto them and a lot of it backed up on the flash drives in the desk drawers. Before he could start unplugging and moving things though, Gordon slid up to him.

“You okay?” he whispered.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

“Just… it’s a lot… or seems like it should be.” More of him projecting; he found it upsetting so he was assuming Benrey would too. He was wrong of course, Benrey didn’t care beyond it being lame and boring but it wasn’t tragic. He was perfectly fine and didn’t need to be pitied and viewed as a sad little whatever the fuck.

Benrey pulled out two of the desk drawers. “We’re here for a reason so uh… hop to it. You should be able to handle grabbing stuff from drawers, right?” He was one handed and sleep deprived but not useless.

Gordon sighed. “Yeah, okay.”

~

Everything they couldn’t bring with them they destroyed. Naturally Coomer did most of the destruction with his mechanical arms and legs. Gordon’s gun hand helped too though, largely as a just in case disguise for why everything was destroyed; bullet holes in stuff and in the walls would make it look like proper violence had occurred. No one should suspect a thing.

There was satisfaction in watching the place get stripped and then utterly ruined. Most of the experimentation had been done on Benrey when he’d been younger, before his handlers found out everything he could do and the extent of it. Also before he’d developed much of a will to push back against it even if that meant just being difficult about it. But even once all that had slowed down, giving Benrey more time to wander around the facility or hunker down in his gamer pad to play video games, coming here had never been fun. This room in particular sucked, it deserved to be destroyed. If it wasn’t made of concrete, he would’ve asked Bubby to burn it down.

By the time they were finally done, the salvage wagon was full. They’d collected some of that on the way here but most of it was from Benrey’s handlers’ lab. All of which would be going home with him and Gordon. Meaning, to the rest of Black Mesa, their salvage operation was going to look like a failure.

“You guys gonna get in trouble for bringing so little back to the lab?” Benrey asked as they started back the way they’d come.

Tommy replied with, “We could just tell them that uh… our trauma from our first adventure made it hard so we didn’t venture far or find much. And then um, that also gives us a reason to not want to come again even after volunteering for this.”

“You could just blame Gordon,” Bubby said. “Tell the boss he fucked up again.”

“What do mean, again?” As proof of his exhaustion, Gordon barely sounded like he cared.

“I just mean, again. You saying you never fucked up before? I don’t believe that for a second, especially since the reason you’re here is a big fuck up.”

“Whatever just… we go with what Tommy said. Or um… if you guys wanna come back for whatever reason, just say it’s me who was too traumatized for this ‘cause that’s not untrue. Don’t word it like I’m the only one who fucked up though, please. I’d rather keep my new position.”

“Don’t worry, Gordon,” Coomer said, “we won’t throw you under the bus without good reason. I do believe though that I will return here on my own later or perhaps with Bubby to retrieve my stuff and his too if he would like to make sure it doesn’t end up in Black Mesa’s hands again. If you weren’t here, I’d suggest we go do it after dropping our current stuff off in the car. But we won’t make you do that or wait for us. So we will have to come back later.”

“Ugh, sorry for being a burden.”

“Apology accepted!”

From there the conversation drifted to other things, occasionally petering out for a bit before someone revived it. Gordon didn’t participate much. Benrey tried to prod him into it but it never lasted long. Whether he was having another quiet freak out or was just exhausted was hard to tell. Probably the latter but… that was worrying in its own way. He could die if he didn’t sleep for long enough.

Maybe Benrey should be upset with him enough to not be as bothered by that thought. If Gordon ended up viewing him more of a science experiment than a person after seeing all his science stuff, then it would be less of a loss, right? But even if that would be the case, heck, even if that was how he viewed Benrey right now, Benrey still liked him and was responsible for him as a pet owner. His death wouldn’t be easy to just go along with. And so when they eventually pulled to a stop to rest and eat…

“Maybe we should sleep here for a bit,” Benrey suggested.

“No,” Gordon interrupted before he could say more. “I think we should just keep going until we’re out, no nap or sleep break. I know none of you guys really need one, don’t try to pretend like you do. This place sucks. I want out.”

“Are you sure, Mr. Freeman?” Tommy asked. “I mean um… you didn’t sleep much last night, did you?”

“I’m fine.”

Benrey wasn’t letting him get away with that lie. “He’d didn’t sleep at all. Or he tried not to. He fell asleep anyway ‘cause uh… humans are like that. It was maybe an hour before I had to wake him from a nightmare.” The whole having to sleep every night thing had to suck in general but even more so when plagued by nightmares.

“Yeah, yeah but… I hate it here. I want out. I’ll be fine that long.”

Coomer spoke up next. “Gordon, for two Play Coinstm I’ll carry you the rest of the way out and you can nap in my arms.”

“No thanks. Let’s go.” He grabbed his flashlight, stood, shoved his gun arm back into the cart’s handle and started walking again. Everyone ultimately followed, even Benrey.

“I’ll be fine,” he repeated as Benrey fell into step with him. “I just want out of here. Let me have this.”

Benrey shouldn’t have agreed to helping him stay up last night. … Or maybe it had been the right move. He’d had nightmares before, they sucked. Maybe it was worth it to skip sleep for Gordon even if he could die of not enough sleep. Perhaps nightmares could kill humans too, they were awfully weak after all. And so he bit back on insisting on anything for now.

~

Their pace, dictated by Gordon, slowed more and more over time. Bubby complained but stayed close as Gordon had requested anyway. Another short rest to eat didn’t help much.

“Benrey, I need to slap me,” he eventually said.

“Uh… why?”

“Just do it.”

Who was Benrey to deny such a request? No one had ever asked him to slap them before so why Gordon wanted him to didn’t matter as much as the novelty of it. He switched to backpedaling in front of Gordon, giving him the perfect angle to lift a hand and slap him across the face.

“Wait…” he began a split second before it connected, snapping his head to the side. “Ow. What the fuck?”

Bubby laughed as they all stopped to turn and look. “You literally asked him to. What were you expecting?”

“I uh… don’t know. Just, I didn’t think he’d be so willing.”

“Why would you ask if you thought I wouldn’t do it? That’s dumb.” This didn’t seem to be a human thing but just a Gordon thing. It was silly.

“Yeah, guess you got a point, huh? But uh… I think it helped a little so thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” How that could’ve possibly helped with anything was beyond Benrey’s understanding but it had been kind of fun.

“You know, Gordon,” Coomer said, “if you wanted him to help wake you up, you could’ve asked him to sing you some sweet voice. You seem particularly sensitive to it so a colour that provides an energizing feeling might help.”

“Damn, you’re right. I’m an idiot.” Gordon turned his gaze back onto Benrey. “Do you think you could uh… do the opposite of your blue calm down one?”

“Ooh, I recommend orange,” Tommy chimed in.

Somehow this hadn’t occurred to Benrey before either. In his defense he rarely had cause to try to make anyone excited with orange. And it wouldn’t cure his sleeplessness but it should indeed energize him. So, taking a deep breath, Benrey looked up at Gordon and sang him a long string of bright orange.

Like the blue as soon as he breathed it in, he took a deep breath of it to draw in even more. His eyes widened as the slump in his shoulders lessened. As the tone ended, he stepped back and shook himself out a little. “Wow.”

“What’d it taste like?” Bubby asked.

“Like orange, not the fruit but the artificial orange flavor you find in candy or I guess orange flavored soda. By the way, why does it taste like candy? Like, there’s no way that’s an accident. There’s gotta be a reason they made it like that, right?

“Maybe uh… maybe Darnold helped make it,” Tommy suggested. “He does stuff with flavors so maybe that’s his influence. We can ask him when we get back. For now though, are you feeling better?”

“Uh, yeah, actually. Not like a hundred percent but better for sure. Thanks again, Benrey, you’re amazing. Let’s uh… keep going, huh?”

~

Their journey continued. Now every so often, without even pausing, Benrey sang more orange for Gordon. It always seemed to help and that was a comfort at first but… what if it made it worse in the end? The sweet voice wasn’t giving him any energy, it was just boosting his mood, making his body produce more energy. Not a human himself, the equation on that wasn’t something Benrey was intimately familiar with, but it didn’t add up to anything that seemed good. Surely it could only increase his overall exhaustion.

Benrey kept doing it though, every time he was asked. This was the place that was the source of Gordon’s nightmares so of course he wanted out as soon as possible and it would be good for him to be out. Even as the further they trudged onward, the more often Benrey had to boost him, he kept doing it. Not stopping for Gordon to sleep should result in them getting back out sooner so it would hopefully be fine in the end.

Eventually Bubby starting to visibly flag too, all the effort he’d expended clearing the room shit had gone down in finally catching up to him in a way he couldn’t hide anymore. He denied it when Coomer brought it but it was obvious even to Benrey. They kept going though because the rest of them were fine.

But even going at a slower pace, not stopping for more than a few minutes meant they did finally reach the living area again. Upon Benrey pointing this out to him, Gordon perked up a little more, picking up the pace. And thus they were soon on the elevator headed to the surface.

Upon stepping outside, it was night time, deep into it. All the way out here, far from civilization and its light pollution, that meant it was dark. The moon and stars overhead was the only thing making it less dark than the facility.

Gordon paused as he stepped out after Benrey, tilting his head up towards the sky. “Gosh, fuck, it’s beautiful.”

Benrey looked up too and… he was right. The moon and endless vastness of the stars were quite lovely out here. Not a fan of the desert night air, Benrey had never gone out in it often to see this sight. … He should’ve brought his camera. Oh well, it’s not like a picture could do it justice anyway.

“Come on,” he said as he started for the car, gesturing for the others to follow. “Let’s go home.” It was even colder out here than it had been down below. He wanted out of it and Gordon needed sleep.

Having taken the lead, Benrey reached the car first. He phased through it to reach the trunk button, making it pop open in time for the rest of the crew to reach it. Starting the car to get the heater running would’ve been nice too but Bubby had the keys. … He was going to have to learn how to hot wire a car one day, probably after he learned how to drive one. Maybe Gordon would teach him… assuming he still liked Benrey after seeing all his stuff.

“Gordon, Bubby,” Coomer said as Benrey rejoined the group, “you two go ahead and hop in. I’ll handle loading everything and then, Bubby, dear, if you are agreeable, I’ll drive us home as well.”

Bubby sighed as he dug into his pocket and pulled out the car keys. “Sure.” He handed them over to Coomer without hesitation, before dropping his pack to the ground and starting for the passenger seat. Wow, he must be pretty tired too then.

Upon freeing his gun hand from the wagon’s handle, Gordon followed suit, heading for the backseats. With nothing else to do and trusting Coomer and Tommy to handle packing everything, Benrey joined him. Despite being the first one in, Gordon placed himself in the middle seat. Even if he was going to sleep the whole way back, the sacrifice was still admirable.

He leaned in to whisper as Benrey settled in next to him. “You mind if I uh… lean on you a bit?”

“Go for it.” Benrey preferred it actually. It was cold and Gordon was warm.

“Thanks.” Gordon slouched as much as the backseat would let him before leaning into Benrey, resting his head on his shoulder. Benrey put that arm around him pulling him a bit closer.

“So,” Bubby looked back at them, “are you two fucking?”

“No,” Gordon replied, not looking up at him.

“Are you sure?”

“I don’t even like fucking so, yes, I’m sure.”

“Ah, I see. I was going to ask you later what Benrey’s like in bed but I suppose I don’t need to know that anyway. But are you dating?”

Gordon groaned. “Please shut up.”

Bubby turned his gaze onto Benrey. “You two dating?”

“Uh… no,” Benrey replied over another annoyed groan from Gordon.

“Damn, I thought I was onto something.”

“Why do you think we’re dating?” With how bad Gordon’s attempted explanation of romance had been, Benrey still wasn’t sure why anyone might think they were romantically involved.

“This whole… this.” Bubby lifted a hand to gesture vaguely at them. “He used to hate you and now he’s all over you. It’s cute, don’t get me wrong. I’m not judging. In fact, I’m rooting for you. Romance is uh… nice.” His face grew a little redder before he looked away. “When you figure it out, let me know.”

Benrey would’ve asked him to elaborate since he apparently knew stuff about it. With Gordon right here though, it didn’t feel right. But while being called cute wasn’t ideal, if Gordon being ‘all over him’ was a romance thing maybe Benrey wanted that because he liked this. He wanted to date Gordon? … Maybe. It was a tough question to consider when the question of how he’d view Benrey after seeing his records still hung in the air. After that question got answered, he’d return to the thought of dating.

Before the conversation could drift to something else or even resume, Coomer and Tommy were climbing into the car. And then from there they were finally off, headed home. Unsurprisingly, it wasn’t long after that that Gordon fell asleep, slumping even more into Benrey’s side as he did so. Meaning, Benrey wasn’t allowed to move him enough to risk waking him. Not that he’d been planning to anyway.

~

Naturally upon finally reaching Tuefort, their first stop was Gordon and Benrey’s house. As Coomer rolled the car into the driveway, Benrey saved and turned the Game Boy off before putting it his his jacket pocket. He was stuck now though as there was no way he could move Gordon out of the car and into the house without waking him so…

“You guys can walk home, right? ‘Cause I can’t move him. It’s not allowed.”

“Why not?” Tommy asked.

“He’s my pet and you’re not allowed to wake pets when they fall asleep on you unless uh… he has a nightmare. Those are worse.” Or at least Benrey was pretty sure they were. Maybe he’d been doing it wrong. Probably not though, Gordon always seemed grateful. It was also possible he’d been doing it wrong whenever he moved away from Gordon after having him fall asleep on him but he couldn’t just sit around all night every night. And moving away never woke him the way moving him probably would.

“Oh uh… that’s… I didn’t know you guys were into that. I don’t think I needed to know either but…”

“They’re not,” Bubby interrupted, “or at least I’m pretty it’s not what you’re thinking. It’s just Benrey being weird.”

“It’s not weird. I’m responsible for him. I help keep him alive, try to make sure he doesn’t do bad things and uh… stuff like that.” Like make sure he went to bed and helped him sleep. “That makes him my pet, right? And Tommy, when Sunkist falls asleep on you, you always say you’re not allowed to do anything that might wake her so… I’m stuck.”

“I guess that makes sense… sort of.”

“It’s close enough,” Coomer said. “And so since you can’t wake him, I will.” He pressed on the car horn. It wasn’t as loud as the one in Bubby car but that didn’t mean it wasn’t loud.

Gordon didn’t jerk awake this time. Instead he groaned and pressed his face into Benrey’s neck. “Make it stop.”

Coomer let up on the horn. “Hello Gordon! It’s time to wake up! We have arrived at your house and had to wake you because you would’ve woken up if we dragged you out of the car anyway.”

Gordon sat up but he did groan about it again, louder this time. Benrey pulled his glasses out of the pocket he’d put them in after they’d fallen off his face a while ago and handed them to him. “All right, okay, fine. Thanks for not just dragging me, I guess.”

With that they were soon all out of the car. Coomer again volunteered to do most of the heavy lifting when it came to moving all the stuff from the lab into the house. Gordon offered to help but Benrey sent him off to shower – being clean seemed to be important for humans’ health, how exactly Benrey couldn’t tell but having one as a pet didn’t mean he had to know the why’s and how’s of everything – and to get ready for bed instead. The sun would start to rise in a few hours but he needed sleep.

Benrey and Tommy helped moved things. And under Benrey’s instruction, they put it all in the gamer pad, even the barrier panels. It made the room much less cozy and more crowded but that’s where the computer was so that’s where they were going to look at it anyway so best to have all of it all in one spot. Hopefully things would go well and they could put most of it in the basement instead.

By the time they were done and were on there way out, Gordon had stepped out of the shower. Just in time to wish the others a, “Good night,” before resuming his bedtime preparations. Since Gordon seemed to like it when he was clean, Benrey changed clothes too. Pajamas were soft anyway. He wouldn’t have objected to a full hot shower too but didn’t want to bother.

“I really shouldn’t go to bed with my hair damp,” Gordon said as he got into bed anyway.

“Eh, it’ll be fine.” Benrey turned off the light and joined him.

“God, it’s good to be home.” Gordon pulled him close, curling into him to rest his head on Benrey’s chest.

“You shouldn’t have ever left.” Not to go to the facility anyway.

“I know. Sorry again for… you know. Thanks for not being mad.”

Benrey didn’t bother responding as the lightly pet his fingers through Gordon’s damp hair. They’d been doing this for a long while now. Snuggling up to each other like this and in any way they felt like was comfortably familiar but it was still wonderful. Despite that… Benrey didn’t feel like purring right now. The anxiety of what would happen when they looked at his records tomorrow was too much.

He should be pissed at Gordon for making him feel like this. Making him care enough to be anxious not just for his health and safety but also at the thought of losing him in a different way too. It sucked and wasn’t fair. Things had been much easier when the only other person he’d really cared about was Tommy. Back then, they hadn’t been particularly close, just pals who hung out and talked sometimes. Losing him to death or just his friendship would’ve been a bummer, more so than Benrey’s occasional guard pal, but he would’ve still gotten over it without too much issue.

Now though, Tommy was a good friend and Benrey cared about him enough that losing him would be an issue. The same held true with Bubby and even Coomer. And then there was however the fuck he felt about Gordon. He wasn’t supposed to be so attached to any of them but Gordon was a whole other thing entirely. It was often nice and fun; Gordon was warm and wonderful to hang out, snuggle, and mess with. But he also had to go and be weird, stupid, and fragile, making caring for him have downsides that were super fucking lame.

Feeling anxious for Gordon’s safety and now over him possibly seeing Benrey more as scientific marvel than a friend sucked. And that was in addition to him having made Benrey care about what he was when it didn’t matter. Despite all that though, Benrey didn’t want to move. He wanted to keep holding Gordon to help make sure he had good sleep without nightmares. To sleep in his arms in turn because he was tired too. An emotional tired that shouldn’t have been possible – how could just feeling things, even if they were intense emotions, make one need sleep? – but was for sure a thing. And so, confusingly, he wasn’t upset enough to make leaving appealing and thus would stay here, cuddling Gordon for however long they both wanted to.

~

Next Chapter

[dr-futbol-blog]

Trinity, Pt. 11

Alone together in the Ancient facility, McKay and Sheppard are preparing to redo the experiment. They are standing with their backs to each other, working on opposite stations. And unlike previously, when Sheppard's task seemed simply to be to watch the power core, because it is now just the two of them, McKay has actually given him something significant to do. And it is not insignificant that this is a task Sheppard seems perfectly suited to do, as he has been observing McKay work for such a long time and with such intensity that he has picked up a thing or two, just like McKay has picked up a thing or two about working on the field.

McKay: OK, this is good. My equations are working like a charm. Power level's at forty percent, just to be on the safe side. I think we're ready for our test. Sheppard: Where do you want the weapon targeted? McKay: The debris orbiting the planet. Sheppard: Sounds good.

McKay appears to be happier, less tense than he was previously and this has more than a little to do with the fact that it very much seemed like Sheppard had just chosen him over Weir. It had been not being chosen, the feeling of rejection from Sheppard having chosen not to be with him, not to have him in his group when he had split personnel on the field (Runner, Duet), of not being let into his room that had started to accumulate into a feeling of being wholly unwanted by Sheppard. And while this had never been Sheppard's intention, the effect of his choices that had been motivated by keeping McKay safe and which he thought he was doing for McKay's best interests without talking it over with him, without explaining it to him, giving out no indication that he cared about McKay because Sheppard thought that was what he wanted when he had asked for more time, had all led them to a point where McKay felt like he needed to work extra hard to win Sheppard's approval. Like he needed to accomplish something grandiose that he might earn Sheppard's love. And so, Sheppard finally seeming to choose him made McKay feel elated. McKay does not realize that for Sheppard, it was not a choice between him and Weir or anyone on Atlantis. For Sheppard, it had been a choice between protecting McKay and giving him what he desired when the latter so clearly came with a risk. It had been Sheppard's desire to please McKay that had won over his drive to protect him.

Also note that while Sheppard does not actually respond to what McKay is saying, he is still relatively at ease here. Like he told Ronon in the previous episode, he is a worrier. He is especially worried about McKay. But in order to give McKay his support, he is trying very hard not to let that instinct overwhelm him. And he does turn back to look at McKay to see his response, even though he turns away just as soon as he notices that McKay was looking at him while talking to him. Sheppard is likely not wanting McKay to see how concerned and frankly afraid this makes him, and not allowing McKay to see his face at this moment is meant to disguise that fact.

McKay: Bringing the weapon online... now. Sheppard: What's that? McKay: Energy surge, it's fine. I can regulate it. Sheppard: You said you could contain-- McKay: The temperature inside the containment field is well within acceptable parameters.

Now, Teyla had told Ronon that the words spoken were often meaningless. But here we see a clear example of where words make a difference, and that McKay and Sheppard should probably have talked this out using words instead of just assuming that they understood each other perfectly. Sheppard thinks that McKay had said that he can contain the surge where what McKay had said was that "the problem is in the automatic containment protocols" and that his fix is to "adjust the field strength manually". He had also told Sheppard that "a surge like the one that happened before is inconceivable". Finally, he had told Zelenka "As long as I'm monitoring the energy output manually, I can stop that before it happens".

Nowhere did McKay say that he could contain the surge, and his plan seems to have been to manually regulate it from the beginning, essentially doing what Collins had been doing when he died, only McKay was not doing it in the command access tube. It is not that McKay had misled Sheppard, but it seems as though Sheppard had heard what he wanted to hear. Essentially, Sheppard was under the impression McKay was playing a five-card draw where McKay had actually intended for it to be a pretty high stakes Texas hold'em. And as well as the two of them can read each other, this has increasingly been the problem: they both bring their own set of assumptions into their interaction that colour their perceptions, that skew their interpretation of the intentions of the other.

McKay: Staying ahead of it. Levels are rising in the chamber. Reroute power from the secondary systems to the containment field. Sheppard: I'm thinking we need to abort.

Again, if we look at this from hindsight, knowing what we know (McKay manages to blow up five sixths of a solar system and lose access to the technology besides), it is easy to side with Sheppard here, to somehow see his as the morally superior position. But the fact is, they are both coming at it from positions that may be understandable and that we may empathize with but that cannot withstand closer scrutiny. They both think that they are doing the right thing for the right reasons but at the end of the day, both of their motivations are self-serving. Sheppard thinks that he is looking out for McKay when when he is actually driven by his desire not to lose something important to him which ultimately derives from his need for control, his fear of abandonment. McKay thinks that he is doing this for the greater good and the advancement of science, the betterment of mankind, when he is actually driven by his sincere desire to fix his mistakes which ultimately derive from his need for approval, his fear of rejection. Neither is a morally superior position, but not morally inferior either. We can understand both motivations. It is just easier to see Sheppard being in the right because of how everything turns out, even though we hear both of them speak the words "I know what I'm doing" to the other. And they sincerely believe that, too.

It is noticeable that Sheppard says "I'm thinking we need to abort" here, as though his gut is telling him to make that call but he is unsure of whether he should. As a former test pilot, Sheppard has been trained to make fast calls and snap decisions, as the ability to make a call quickly and to stick with it is only thing between life and death in situations that can go south in an instant. We have seen him make such decisions, even big ones, making the decision to sacrifice his own life in the blink of an eye. This is what he is good at, this is what he excels in, and this is what he has been trained to do. And yet here, he is unable to come to a decision. He is unable to make the call. He is unsure as to what to do and this has everything to do with McKay. With anyone else, he would already have made the call to abort. With anyone else, he would not even have undertaken this task. With anyone else, he would have pulled the plug following the first failed attempt and called it a day. It is because his desire to give McKay anything he wants and to keep him safe from everything including himself are clashing here that he is wasting precious seconds trying to convince McKay of something that the other man is simply willing not to be true.

McKay: I can compensate. Just give me a minute. Sheppard: It's overloading, just like last time. McKay: There is no logical reason this shouldn't be working. Sheppard: McKay... McKay: None of this should be happening!

McKay is baffled by why this is happening when the thing that he has trusted his whole life, logic, is failing him. If he cannot expect for the laws of Physics to stay constant, then the Universe truly is both random and chaotic, and everything he has built his adult life on is a delusion. Both McKay and Sheppard, for their own reasons, have a need to control their environment, to control situations they find themselves in, and right here, right now, especially McKay could have used Heightmeyer's advice: "Take deep breaths and stop trying to control everything for a second."

This is also the point where Sheppard stopped looking at the data and turned his attention entirely on McKay. The experiment had ever been but of peripheral interest to Sheppard but his sense of danger was sounding such a loud alarm in his head that he could no longer pretend he was there to assist McKay. He was there to save McKay even if it killed them both.

McKay: Look, the energy levels are spiking at a rate far greater than anything I predicted. Sheppard: Shut it down! McKay: ...Fine.

What is important here is that McKay does what Sheppard tells him to do. Again, this is not precisely an order. Yes, Sheppard is telling McKay what to do but he is not telling him as his superior officer or his team leader. Sheppard is telling McKay to shut it down as a man who is frightened and barking at the person both physically and emotionally closest to him. This is not the tone of voice one uses with a colleague or a subordinate. This is a tone of voice one can only use with family, with someone one knows intimately. And note that McKay whirls around with every intention of arguing, of snapping at Sheppard in the interest of continuing to convince most of all himself that he is in the right. But he only needs to take one look at Sheppard's face, and he relents. McKay does what Sheppard wants, immediately. Because Sheppard does not look angry, he looks scared. He looks lost. His lower lip wobbles. McKay does not want to be the cause of Sheppard feeling like that. That was never his intention. We can tell that it is seeing the look on Sheppard's face that makes McKay relent, to change his mind at once.

McKay: That doesn't make any sense. Sheppard: What's wrong? McKay: I can't shut it down!

Only, it is too late. Perhaps it was always too late, and there never was a means of shutting it down since what is different from their previous attempt is that they had brought the weapon online, which is something they did not have time to do the previous time. Now, this again is not something that McKay could have predicted nor is it his fault. Yes, they could have taken many more precautions but there is no guarantee that the outcome would not have been catastrophically worse if they had waited for the Pentagon to get involved and force Weir's hand into continuing the research. What is significant here is that McKay did as Sheppard wanted with no delay trying to shut it down, and he was unable to do this through no (or rather minimal) fault of his own. As it begins dawning to McKay just how screwed they are, he abandons the data himself like Sheppard had done earlier, turning to look at Sheppard with his full attention. They are both afraid and in need of support from the other.

Sheppard: What was that? McKay: The weapon's discharging to prevent a catastrophic overload. Sheppard: Alright, that's it. We're outta here. McKay: What did I just say?! The weapon's firing at random targets above the planet.

And then, we see them both try to save each other. Like McKay tells Ronon and Teyla in Aurora (S02E09), they have "gotten into this habit of saving each other's lives". While it is much easier to see Sheppard's motivation in coming here to save McKay from himself since it was explicitly mentioned in text, it was never McKay's intention to put Sheppard into jeopardy and while his motivations seem more complex, at the root of it all was the desire to both please Sheppard and to be worthy of his love. And this, here, the facility quaking around them was very far from that goal and McKay is working feverishly to try to find some way of getting them out of there. They have the same goal. Also note the fact that while McKay is working, he should be focusing entirely on what he is doing, he is still taking the time to explain it to Sheppard like he has gotten used to doing.

McKay: This is the safest place to be right now! Sheppard: The place isn't gonna be safe for very much longer! McKay: I can bring it back under control! Just give me a second! Sheppard: No you can't!

So, we cannot say that Sheppard is precisely overreacting here given that the facility seems to be falling apart around them and given that we have seen him be overprotective of McKay at least ever since The Storm (S01E10) if not even earlier. His worry over McKay's safety is completely overriding his reason here. He is not thinking rationally, he is acting on instinct. As mentioned, Sheppard had come here with the intention of saving McKay if it killed them both and here, as he grabs McKay, he is fully intending on dragging him out by force if need be. It is entirely possible McKay never could have done what he is attempting to do here. But given what Sheppard has witnessed him do in the past, based on precedent he probably should have given McKay a chance to get it back. Sheppard does not know that McKay could never have done it, and we have previously seen him have such faith in McKay's abilities as to believe that he can do anything. But Sheppard is not reasonable here. No part of him is running on reason.

To his credit, Sheppard lets McKay go just as soon as he tries to twist away from him, as he has no desire to hurt McKay (and we do see him hurt other people when his emotions run roughshod over his reason, like Keller in Search and Rescue, S05E01 and the replicator woman in Outcast, S04E15. Given that we were also introduced to Sheppard's ex-wife in the latter episode, it also invites us to wonder whether there had been more than his dishonesty and him not wanting to be at home with her that made him "not very good" at marriage). Were it anyone else, Sheppard probably would not have let go as easily. It does not even seem like Sheppard was grabbing him or his clothing, he merely turned McKay around to face him, to look at him. Everything that Sheppard is doing here, he is doing out of love.

Because this scene follows immediately from the scene in which Teyla rounds up on Ronon, throws him against the wall and puts her blade at his throat, we are also meant to contrast them. There is enough similarity in the intensity with which both Teyla and Sheppard approach Ronon and McKay, and they both try to impress their will on them through physical action. Where Teyla threatens Ronon, Sheppard merely wants McKay's attention, but they are both demanding that the other person focus on them on this moment, when they have something important to say. But what they tell them is almost the opposite.

Teyla tells Ronon that if he repeats his action, she will make him pay for it. Sheppard tells McKay that he has to cease his current action because he loves him and does not want to lose him. That is the subtext. And since Teyla explicitly tells Ronon "If you ever use my friendship in such a way again" just before this scene, just before we see Sheppard round up on McKay, we are better able to conclude that what happens between them is not the same. There is no abuse of friendship going on in the Ancient facility. On the contrary, we see Sheppard attempt to use the love that he knows McKay feels for him to get him to let go. For the sixth time in this episode we are told that Ronon and Teyla are friends, nothing more. Not once is the word used of Sheppard and McKay.

McKay: Just one second! Sheppard: I've seen this before, Rodney: pilots who wouldn't eject when something went wrong, trying to fix their planes right until it hit the ground. McKay: OK, we need to leave.

And Sheppard is very much trying to use tough love here. When he needs something, and he may never have needed anything as much as he needs for McKay to hear him right at this moment, he is not above using any and every weapon in his arsenal. But instead of forcing McKay, he decides to round him to be able to look him in the eye. With McKay, he is using both reason and emotion, and it is emotion that seems to penetrate most deeply.

Now, we never find out what Sheppard is referring to here. Since he seems to have been a test pilot, he may have seen his fair share of crashes. He may be referring to Mitch and Dex from Home (S01E09), even though we were not told that Sheppard had been present for their deaths. He may be referring to Captain Holland, with whom he had been... involved, but it is not clear how much of Phantoms (S03E09) corresponds with what had actually happened, whether Holland had died in the crash or still been alive when Sheppard got to the site of the crash and things had played out more or less like they did in his hallucination (although this was a chopper and not a plane). He may even be referring to himself and something that he had done in the past, and let us recall that it had been only in the previous episode that Sheppard had crashed the jumper where something had gone wrong, and he had not been entirely sure whether he had caused the crash himself. What ever he is referring to, Sheppard is drawing on something very painful from his own history, he is being honest and entirely emotionally open in order to reach McKay, and that is one of the hardest things that Sheppard can do. That is how much McKay means to him.

McKay: I've waited too long, the weapon can't discharge enough power to avoid a catastrophic overload. This whole planet's gonna go up. Not that your speech wasn't working.

Now, McKay had been reluctant to leave because he genuinely believed that the facility was the safest place for them to be while the weapon was going off on the planet's surface, and that was the only thing he could think to keep Sheppard safe and alive. But realizing that the overload was going to take out the entire planet, he agreed that they needed to haul ass and get out. And the way Sheppard is looking at him here, the way time seems to stop for him when McKay finally looks up at him and acknowledges him, the way he seems to be breathing heavily, looking at him with a mixture of relief and awe. To reiterate, Sheppard was never angry at McKay, he was afraid and desperate and trying any and everything he could to get McKay to hear him. But this? The look he gives McKay? If that is not love then I don't know how else to describe it.

While Sheppard's speech was not McKay's motivation for leaving, it did nonetheless reach him. He not only heard Sheppard, he felt what he was trying to communicate. The speech had been working, but that was not his reason for moving them out of the frying pan and into the literal fire, because if he had thought for a moment that he would be able to protect Sheppard better from inside the facility, McKay would have stayed. But now that it no longer seemed to be an option they needed to get going, and instead of being able to keep Sheppard safe, he was now forced to give up his own life into Sheppard's hands. Circumstance forced him to let go of control. McKay had lost control and all he could do now was to hang on for dear life.

Continued in Pt. 12

[beskarthief]

Chapter 10 of the Star Wars fic "Order 65". The rest can be found here.

19 BBY, Coruscant, Coruscant Underworld

 “Do you know of a Commander Fox, Captain?”

 There was a long pause after she asked the question and Rex’s eyes filled with pain. But not just that of sadness; the kind that came from anger, too. The kind of anger that you had to carry with you because nothing you ever did would be enough. 

 “Captain?” Riyo thought her own voice sounded too small for the moment. What door had she opened? Had it been better left closed? And still some part of her had to know, had to keep pushing despite the fact that Echo had turned away and walked off across the room to stand alone. She had to know; how much danger am I in, really? 

 “Yes, Senator. I know him.” Rex said eventually, voice heavy with barely contained emotion.  He didn’t elaborate, and though Riyo didn’t want to ask, she had to know.

 “What did he do, Captain? I’m… I’m sorry to ask, but our operation could be in danger.”

 “Most of us clones got assigned the GAR.” Rex told her, eyes distant. “But some got stationed here, on Coruscant. It doesn’t sound like much, but it’s a big difference. The Coruscant Guard weren’t loyal to the Jedi, they’re loyal to Palpatine. At least, he is. They’re like his lap dogs. And Fox is worse than most. He’ll fire on his own brothers without batting an eye, if his precious Chancellor tells him to.”

 Riyo shivered. His words carried the weight of lived experience. “I’m sorry, Captain.”

 “Be careful, Senator. He’s cleaned up Palpatine’s loose ends before. He’ll do it again.”

 Everyone was quiet for a while after that, but eventually Gregor piped up and told her that they were going to be transferring facilities, and things were able to continue. But she could tell they were memories none of them had wanted to relive. Echo didn’t rejoin their group; he stood off to the side before making his way into the warren of back rooms that was the rest of the base. Riyo watched him go out of the corner of her eye. 

 Rex, too, seemed shaken. He went through the paces of the rest of their meeting like a shadow of his usual self; distracted and barely putting in a word unless spoken to. She was infinitely grateful for Gregor, who was able to lay out most of the supplies she would need to get for them. Riyo made careful note of it all before bidding them farewell, hurrying away so as not to make them continue to relive whatever had happened. But as she reached the door, Captain Rex’s voice rang out over the hangar one final time.

 “Senator! If you’re going to be dealing with the Guard, Thire isn’t as bad as the rest of them. He always had a lot of respect for the Jedi.”

Riyo turned back to him, nodding her thanks. “I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you, Captain.”

 She returned to her apartment as quickly as possible, hoping that with Sven and Curtix left guarding her chambers, it would appear as though she never left. Now more than ever Riyo knew she had to be careful. But she had no such luck. 

 He was waiting on the landing pad, face hidden behind the cold plastoid of his helmet, thoughts unreadable. It would have seemed casual, maybe, him leaning there, if not for the look in Rex’s eyes when she’d mentioned his name.

 “Senator, I thought you were inside?” he said, pushing off from the railing where he’d been waiting as she pulled up in her speeder. “You left your guards.”

 “I was just visiting a friend.” Riyo said quickly before she evened her tone. “Surely I can do that without bringing a fully armed escort?”

 Fox frowned. Or, she imagined he did, under his helmet. “Your life has been threatened before, Senator. The culprits could still be out there.”

 Oh, I know they are, Chuchi thought. I’m looking right at them.

 “He lives barely five minutes away, Commander. But I appreciate your concern and will be sure to bring Sven and Curtix next time.”

 “We could accompany you as well, Senator. If you like.”

 “I’ll keep that in mind.” she replied smoothly, gliding past him and into her apartment. He hesitated in the doorway, as though he wanted to follow her, but instead just gave a curt nod before returning to his post by the railing. Riyo allowed herself a relieved breath as she closed the door behind her.

 Riyo had known she was playing a dangerous game before she placed her piece on the board. But at least before her home had felt safe, like someplace she could breathe. Now the war had crept in here as well. Soon it would fill every corner of the galaxy. But only if she let it.

 Chuchi went to her bookshelf and pulled down the small, locked box that she kept her comm in. The real one, that was. Not the fake she carried with her. Bail would be more than willing to confirm her alibi if anyone went asking, she knew. And anyway, she needed to warn him and pass on Rex’s update. 

 She sent her friend the message cautiously; cryptically. But the end of it was clear enough. 

 We need to talk.

[sjsmith56]

Promise Your Love - A Private Man, Chapter 16

Summary: Bucky and Tracey get married. They make a momentous decision on their wedding night.

Length: 5.5 K

Characters: Bucky, Tracey, Sam, Rebecca, Janice, the Avengers and guests.

Warnings: Minors DNI - contains sexual content which may be unsuitable for readers under the age of 18. Bucky forgets something important.

Author notes: Bucky getting married is what we want, right? It’s all good.

<<Chapter 15

November 30, 2024

"Tell me it's there, at the house," said Bucky, as he spoke to Janice on the phone.  "I'm sure I last saw it on the dresser in the bedroom.  NO, don't let Tracey know I forgot it.  Just make sure you bring it with you when the limousine brings you to the hall.  Sam will be waiting at the main door to take it from you.  As long as we have it before the ceremony."

He hung up and bent his head.  How could he forget the marriage license?  Other than himself and his tux it was the only other thing he had to remember as Sam had the ring.  He felt Sam's hand on the back of his shoulder.

"Janice found it?" he asked.

Bucky nodded.  "Still can't believe I left it there yesterday.  How do people who get married more than once do it?  I'm a wreck and this is the only marriage I hope to ever have."

"Don't sweat it, Buck," said Sam.  "I'm sure I'll be a basket case on my wedding day.  You know I'm really happy for you.  Tracey's an incredible woman and you two have such a bond."

"She is," sighed Bucky.  "How lucky was I to meet her right on my front step?"

"It was meant to happen," replied his friend.  "I believe that.  After all the shit that went wrong in your life karma was bound to look kindly on you at some point."

Bucky smirked.  "Too bad I don't believe in that.  You're picking us up from the hotel tomorrow and taking us to the airport, right?"  Sam nodded.  "I've given you the location of the beach house and I'll have my cell phone with me.  If anything happens to Rebecca, you just text Brooklyn and we'll get on the next flight back."

"Nothing is going to happen," soothed Sam, knowing it was Bucky's anxiety talking.  "She's healthy, walking like a champ, and with Janice and I staying at the house and her aides coming during the day we've got her needs covered.  You can have a great honeymoon."

"I just worry, you know?" said Bucky.  "If ever there was a time for Rebecca to get sick it would be now.  Not to mention the complete disappearance of Ross and Fontaine has me concerned.  Even Walker hasn't heard from them."

"Rhodey is on top of it," replied his partner.  "If either of them shows their faces around your sister they'll be arrested, immediately.  We’ve done all we could to prepare for anything. Now let's finish getting ready and get over to the venue for the best day of your life."

Nodding his acceptance of Sam's ministrations Bucky buttoned up his dress shirt and tried to put the bow tie on.  After the third try Sam came over and did it right the first time.  Next came the jackets and both men made sure nothing was out of place before packing their bags and leaving one at the front desk.  Bucky's would be transferred to the bridal suite while Sam would take his with him in Tracey's car which he would drive after the reception.  Both men headed down to the car and were soon at the Metropolitan Ballroom where Bucky nervously walked through the setup for the ceremony.  Pepper was already there with Happy keeping Morgan occupied while she spoke to the facility manager. 

"We think alike," she said to the nervous dark-haired Avenger.  "I walked through as well and couldn't find anything out of place."

He blushed and coughed nervously.  "I just keep thinking of everything that could go wrong."

"Nothing will, Bucky, and even if it does, you're with friends," she said soothingly.  "Where's Sam?"

"Waiting out front for the limo," he replied, blushing again.  "I forgot the licence."

"There you go, that's likely the worst thing that will happen today," she said.  "I take it the ladies will bring it?"

"Janice will," answered Bucky.  "I didn't want Tracey or Rebecca to know."

An errant strand of hair hung over Bucky's forehead as he had grown it out a little, so it didn't look so severe for the wedding ceremony.  With a smile Pepper brushed it off of his face.

"That tuxedo looks really good on you," she said.  "You could have been a model."

He smirked.  "Sure, the swimsuit photos would be a hit.  Bucky is wearing vibranium arm by Wakanda, along with swim trunks by Walmart."

Pepper squeezed his flesh arm.  "You still look good in a tuxedo.  Tracey will look stunning in her gown, I promise."

"Sorry," he ducked his head.  "It's just anxiety.  I was never like this when I was young but the PTSD just does something to a man."

"It's alright," she replied softly.  "Tony had his own PTSD issues.  On our wedding day he hyperventilated almost to the point of passing out but ten minutes later he was back on his game.  You'll be fine, really."

Guests were starting to arrive and she shooed Bucky to wait in the small vestibule set up for him.  Rhodey and Torres came back to see him, standing with him for several minutes but eventually they left him alone where he waited until Sam came in and handed him the marriage licence.

"How does Tracey look?" he asked his friend.

"Beautiful," replied Sam.  "Rebecca looks twenty years younger.  So does Janice for that matter.  Rhodey will be blown away."

Bucky looked sharply at him.  "I know they danced a lot together at the engagement party but is he interested in her?"

Sam shrugged slightly.  "I talked to him a couple of times since then and he asked me about her, mostly about whether her divorce had gone through yet.  You know he wouldn't hurt her."

"I know but she's just got through a long abusive marriage," replied Bucky.  "It's her call but I think she should wait before jumping into another relationship."

"You're right, it is her call," said Sam, bluntly.  "I think she's adjusting well."

The officiant came into the vestibule and asked for the license.  With Sam grinning at him Bucky pulled it out of his jacket's inside pocket and handed it to him.  The man left to check on the bride's readiness and returned a few minutes later.

"Gentlemen," he said.  "They're ready and I believe everyone is here."

Sam stuck his hand out and shook Bucky's hand, then patted him on the shoulder.  He left as he would escort Rebecca up the aisle.  Even though she walked the distance by herself at the rehearsal the night before both Bucky and Sam felt more secure if he supported her.  With a nod the officiant led Bucky out to the square arch covered in roses and chrysanthemums.  Tracey had chosen the song for the processional and asked for the original recording of it, a song by a group called Chicago from 1970.  Called Colour My World, Bucky could see why she chose it as it was slow enough for the walk but had lyrics that were meaningful to them both.  He liked it so much that he suggested they print out the lyrics on a keepsake card for themselves, intending to get it framed after they got back from their honeymoon.  As the opening piano sequence started he took a deep breath and looked to the beginning of the aisle where Sam and Rebecca appeared.

She did look twenty years younger.  With Rebecca's hair, makeup, and the cut of the steel blue dress with a necklace borrowed from Pepper Stark making her look like a movie star, she walked confidently on Sam's arm, smiling at her brother.  A chair was provided for her to sit in, but she chose to stand, her face radiant.  Then he turned to see Tracey and her mother, arm in arm, walking towards him.  Wearing an ivory coloured gown with lace over the bodice and down into the skirt, Tracey wore a sheer veil that didn't hide the big smile on her face.  As the processional song wound down the pair made it to him, and Janice kissed her daughter over the veil then placed her hand in Bucky's before kissing him on the cheek and kissing Rebecca after. 

"Dear friends, we are here today to witness the joining of Tracey Harris and Bucky Barnes," began the officiant.  "I've only had the pleasure of their acquaintance for the past month, while most of you have known one or the other through various means, with a select group witnessing the development of their relationship since they met just seven months ago.  They are truly suited to each other, devoted to the other's wellbeing, full of understanding and empathy for the one they love.  Before we begin the proceedings is there any reason why this couple should not be joined in marriage?  Speak now or forever hold your peace."

There had been a concern that Marty Harris, Tracey's father was looking for the location of their wedding to interfere, but if he did find out he certainly wasn't there to say anything.  The officiant asked the couple to face each other and he continued.

"Marriage is more than just saying vows to each other.  You have a lifetime ahead of you to find happiness together, to find the good things in life to share with each other, to find humour and joy in your daily interactions, to comfort one another, and to seek forgiveness and solace when you are troubled.  Love will prevail if you allow it to, and it will always make you stronger.  You'll enter this marriage as individuals but will leave here today as a bonded pair, husband and wife.  It is a great adventure that will require patience and sometimes sacrifice to put the good of the other before your own.  Your friends and family are part of this adventure as they witness you commit yourselves to each other today, as they will support you in your marriage in the future.  The question we all ask of you today is do you both agree to proceed with the exchange of vows and rings to seal the bond between you?"

"We do," replied Bucky and Tracey in unison.

"Bucky, will you say your vows and present the ring to your bride as a symbol of your bond?"

Bucky nodded and took a deep breath.  "From the moment I saw you on the front step, when you first touched my heart, I knew I wanted a life with you.  I didn't know your name or anything about your life but I saw in your eyes something warm and soft that I had been searching for.  The two months you spent in Belize, fulfilling your need to distance our professional relationship showed me how principled you were as an individual.  Since then you have shown me your love and support in ways that have made me feel needed and desired.  I promise to be your confidant, to be your faithful husband in thought, word, and deed, at all times, to share all that I am with you, to support and honour you to the best of my abilities." 

He turned to Sam who handed the ring to him and he held it at the tip of her ring finger.

"Repeat these words," said the officiant.  "With this ring, I take you, Tracey Wendy Harris, to be my lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward; for better and for worse, for richer and for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and cherish until death us do part."

Bucky repeated it as he slid the ring onto her finger.  Then he smiled at her and they held hands again.

"Tracey, will you say your vows and present the ring to your groom as a symbol of your bond?"

"Yes," she said softly.  "You opened the door to your house that day and it opened my heart to you at the same time.  That was the beginning of falling in love with you, a serious yet compassionate man who just wanted help to look after your sister.  I felt the power of your inner strength immediately and it drew me in as you showed me the kindness that was inherent in you.  That you felt the same for me was evident, and on my return from Belize I knew my future and yours would follow the same path.  I will always believe in you, in your humanity and the good man that you truly are, I will be with you forever as your faithful wife, to be honest and truthful with you, to share a path of love and honour with you for as long as we both live."

She turned to Rebecca who took a ring off her thumb and placed it in Tracey's palm with a smile.  She held it at the tip of his vibranium ring finger.

"It will break," he whispered.

She shook her head.  "Shuri made it out of vibranium.  It will flex with your hand and never break."

He looked into the assembled guests and made out the smiling faces of Queen Shuri and her guards Okoye and Ayo. 

"Everything okay?" whispered the officiant.

"It's perfect," replied Bucky.  "Please continue."

"Okay, Tracey, repeat these words," continued the man.  "With this ring, I take you, James Buchanan Barnes, to be my lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward; for better and for worse, for richer and for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and cherish until death us do part."

Bucky watched with amused interest as the gold coloured ring expanded over his finger joint then settled into the gold groove that marked the space between the knuckle and the joint of his ring finger.  He clenched his fist and released it, confirming that the ring flexed with his finger.  For a moment he wondered if Shuri had manufactured it before he became engaged, hoping for him to be married some day.  It just reaffirmed how much he felt obligated to the Wakandans.

Looking at Tracey he could feel the swell of emotion building within him as they both waited for the final words of the ceremony.

"Without further ado," stated the officiant, "I reiterate that Tracey and Bucky have come here today of their own free will, and in the presence of all of you witnesses, by openly declaring their love and commitment to each other.  By the power invested in me by the State of New York, it gives me great pleasure to formally pronounce you husband and wife.  You may now kiss to end the spoken part of the ceremony."

Bucky lifted Tracey's veil off of her face and placed one hand on her neck with the other around her waist.  Pulling her close he pressed his lips to hers in a soft but meaningful kiss that produced many sighs from the assembled guests.  Then he kissed Rebecca while she kissed Sam and the four were directed to a table where they signed the documents that verified the wedding.  While they did so the sounds of Marvin Gaye singing How Sweet It Is to Be Loved by You came over the speakers.  When they finished, they stood before those who were seated.

"It gives me great pleasure to introduce to you Mr. and Mrs. Bucky and Tracey Barnes," announced the officiant.

With applause they stepped onto the carpet runner than walked down the aisle, stopping to kiss or hug those who sat closest.  Sam and Rebecca followed closely.  From the ceremony room the wedding party stood to receive their guests into a place for cocktails and refreshments.  This time they were greeted by everyone as they transferred into the next room.  After about ten minutes of welcoming people Rebecca sat on a chair, mostly to be certain she retained enough stamina for the rest of the evening.

When Shuri, Okoye and Ayo approached the wedding couple Bucky looked at the young queen / scientist with some scrutiny.

"I wasn't sure you were coming," he said.  "You didn't exactly give us a reply."

"Sergeant Barnes, there was never any doubt in my mind that we were coming," said the regal young woman.  "Especially since I learned of attempts to force you into your previous profession, partly to assist certain individuals in satisfying their corporate masters."  He looked at her with some surprise.  "Oh yes, we know of Thaddeus Ross, and Valentina de Fontaine's plans with the former Secretary of State.  But we will speak of it with others, including your President, while you are enjoying your honeymoon."

"When did you make the ring?" he asked.  "We only sent the invitations four weeks ago."

"It was always our hope that you would find a life partner," interrupted Okoye.  "King T'Challa ordered its creation at the time of the arm's manufacture.  The ring was devised to become part of your prosthetic, never to be forced off by anyone against your will.  It is a symbol of what we hope your marriage will be; a union between two loves that will stand the test of time."

"Then I owe even more to Wakanda for having that hope for me, because it wasn't until I met my wife that I began to hope that for myself."

"We always had hope for you, Sergeant," added Shuri, softening her tone, then turned her gaze to Tracey.  "Mrs. Barnes, you have bonded with an extraordinary man, whose loyalty to those he cares about is unmatched."

Tracey strengthened her hold on Bucky's arm.  "I learned that quickly," she said.  "He is my champion, in so many ways.  Thank you for coming.  It means a lot to both of us."

All three women gave a respectful dip of their heads in response and went on to join the group gathered around Rhodes.  In truth, he had notified the Wakandans early on about the speculation of the reasons behind Ross's and Fontaine's activities.  When he was given the green light to formally reassemble the Avengers Shuri was one of the first people he contacted, as he considered she would inherit more than the throne.  It was also the young queen's intent to visit the newcomer's centre as she had been impressed with Bucky's involvement with the agency set up to assist refugees and immigrants from around the world to adapt to western living.  Considering the number of refugees that came from African countries she wanted to know for herself how they had been treated, and like Pepper Stark, was contemplating further assistance to the group.

After the last person had been greeted by the wedding party Bucky got a scotch for himself and a glass of white wine for Tracey, while Sam got himself a beer and wine for Rebecca.  They visited with everyone until the announcement that dinner was ready.  After everyone was seated and the wedding party announced dinner was served, with those who had identified as Muslim receiving a halal meal.  They also made sure African dishes were on the menu which the three Wakandans noticed and approved of.  Once everyone had eaten their fill a break was called to make the vaulted hall ready for the dance. 

The dozen member band that played at their engagement party had swelled to sixteen, including a woman singer who would share singing duties with one of the musicians.  When they set up, the piano player, as the de facto leader of the band, took the mike for just a moment to address the guests.

"Since we last played in that little jazz club, word got out about a guy who absolutely loves jazz and blues classics from the 1930s and 1940s," he began.  "Don't worry, we'll play some newer stuff as well but we had several people approach us to get involved in the performance at this guy's wedding.  We've had a blast rehearsing for it and it's safe to say we've had some interest in putting on a concert here and there so it looks like getting together as a one time band is expanding to become a regular occurrence for us in the future.  We have Bucky Barnes to thank for that, or more precisely the man who originally approached us on Bucky's behalf, Captain America himself, Sam Wilson.  So let's get this dance off the ground by inviting the happy couple up for their first dance as newlyweds, to the Ella Fitzgerald, Louis Armstrong version of The Nearness of You."

He looked to the drummer who counted it down and they began playing.  Bucky had the biggest grin on his face as he twirled Tracey around the floor.  The woman singer had the most beautiful clear voice, while the musician who took on the Louis Armstrong vocals had the same gravelly intonation of the legendary singer / musician.  By the looks on the faces of the band members and guests who were watching, the song was enjoyed on many levels.  When the band began playing more of the older classics the dance floor became crowded with people enjoying the music that Bucky and to a lesser extent, Rebecca had grown up enjoying.  Just like at the engagement party she danced with a lot of different men, charming all of them with her enthusiasm.  When she got tired she sat and watched, clapping along with the beat. 

Bucky, who danced mostly with his new wife, relived much of his youth with the sounds of the band and the lights of the ballroom.  Everything about it was enjoyed by him and by extension, Tracey.  When the band played I Only Have Eyes for You, she whispered in Bucky's ear.

"We should go," she said, knowing only he could hear it with his superior hearing.  "I have some things in mind for you."

Placing his mouth next to her ear he replied just loudly enough for her to hear.  "Mrs. Barnes, that's awfully forward of you.  What would people think?"

She looked at him with her eyes so full of love.  "They would think it's about time we got out of here."

Placing her hand on his cheek he lowered his head to hers and kissed her gently, then he nodded.  They both left the dance floor and came over to Sam who was sitting with Rebecca and Amina.

"Oh Mr. Bucky, what a wonderful time my husband and I have had at our first American wedding," she said, with enthusiasm.  "We even tried dancing to one of your songs.  We need practice, much practice."

"I'm glad to hear you've enjoyed it," he replied, then he looked at Rebecca and took her by the hand.  "I think we're going to get going.  You'll come with Sam to pick us up and see us off tomorrow?"

"That's my plan," she replied.  "Make sure you don't forget your passports."

She had a sweet smile on her face, and he shook his head in mock exasperation, realizing she knew he forgot the wedding licence.  Kissing her on the side of the head first, he hugged her, then leaned towards Sam to let him know they were leaving.  Nodding, Sam gave the signal to the piano player to play the last song for the couple before they left.  When they finished the current song, he announced the couple would be leaving after one more song, What a Wonderful World.  A space cleared for them, and they danced with a spotlight on them.  Quickly, Tracey tossed her bouquet into the crowd, laughing when her mother emerged with it.  Sam extracted Tracey's overnight bag from the cloakroom of the facility as Bucky's was already in the hotel room, left from earlier when he and Sam left the hotel, placed them in the limousine then assisted Rebecca outside to say goodbye.  Everyone was given eco-friendly confetti to toss at them as they made their goodbyes out in the cool night air then they got into the limousine, and it pulled away. 

He kissed Tracey's hand in the back seat then leaned over to kiss her.  "As fun as that was, I'm glad it's over," he said.  "I haven't danced like that since 1943 when the USO brought a show to an army base in England and allowed the local girls in so we had someone to dance with."

"It was fun," agreed Tracey.  Snuggling closer to her new husband she kissed his ear.  "I hope you don't mind if I try something fun tonight."

"Oh yeah?" he smiled as he put his arm around her.  "Any hints?"

She shook her head smiling at him.  "I think you'll like it ... Sergeant Barnes."

A small giggle escaped her lips and he kissed her passionately, noticing the privacy panel go up between them and the driver.  Twenty minutes later Bucky knocked on the panel and it came down.

"Thank you," said Bucky, to the driver, reaching over the back of the seat with some folded cash.  "I appreciate your discretion."

"You're not my first newlywed couple," smiled the driver, taking the cash. 

On his way back Bucky noticed Tracey's panties still on the floor of the limousine and picked them up, placing them in his tuxedo pocket as he took his place beside her again.  It felt like something old Bucky would do. 

After check-in at the hotel Bucky carried Tracey across the threshold of the bridal suite door, tipping the bell boy for bringing her bag up.  It was pointed out that his bag was already in the room and that the food and drinks would be delivered shortly. 

"Come here," said Bucky softly.  "Did I tell you that you looked incredible tonight?"

"No, but you did say I looked beautiful, stunning, good enough to eat, and what was the other word ... like a goddess," she smiled, as she approached him.  "Did I tell you that you looked handsome?"

"About a dozen times," he nodded.  "I liked hearing it every time."

Reaching to her veil he gently undid the bobby pins, releasing it, then found the bobby pins that were still in her hair, removing them and running his hand through her long locks.  A knock on the door interrupted them and Bucky opened it to room service bringing a plate of oysters and chocolate covered strawberries, plus a bottle of champagne and two long stemmed glasses.  He tipped the server and locked the door behind him.  Tracey looked at the oysters and grimaced slightly.

"It's okay, they're for me," said Bucky.  "I ate them in Romania to help my brain heal.  In my youth they were thought to help in other ways."  A sexy smile crossed his face as he picked one up in the shell, raised it to his upturned face and let it slide into his mouth, chewing a couple of times before he swallowed.  "Not bad.  Do you want a strawberry?"

She nodded and came close to him again as he picked one up and held it up to her lips, watching intently as she bit into it, sliding his free hand around her waist as she chewed it.  A piece of chocolate was stuck on the outside of her lip, and he gently licked it off. 

"We need music," murmured Tracey.

"We do," agreed Bucky, and he pulled his cell phone out of his pocket, bringing her panties with it.  "You surprised me in the limousine."

"I surprised myself," she answered, with an amused look on her face.  "Maybe marriage is bringing out a bit of the wild girl I was never allowed to be when I was younger."

"God, I love you," he suddenly said, embracing her then kissing her deeply.

When they finished kissing she turned her back for him to undo the many buttons on the back of her dress.  As the skin on her back was exposed he ran his fingers down the opening, realizing that she hadn't worn a bra, and with her panties coming off in the limousine she was mostly nude under the dress.  It had an immediate effect on him, which became more evident when she dropped her dress off her shoulders to show she was only wearing a garter belt attached to stockings. 

"Someone has a problem," she said, pouting her lips slightly as she turned to face him.  "Someone is overdressed for the occasion.  Do you need help getting undressed?"

"Darlin', I like how you're talkin'," replied Bucky, his Brooklyn accent suddenly coming out.  "Just let me get this music going and I'll let you undress me."

He opened his playlist, and it began with a mixture of their songs from their first date in the back yard.  As Tracey undid his tie Bucky removed his jacket tossing it aside, then caressed her body as she undid his shirt and pulled it out of his pants.  They kissed again, both of them stroking the skin of the other.  When Tracey undid Bucky's pants, revealing he was fully aroused, they both looked down at his bulge. 

"Damn, baby," he gasped, picking her up and kissing her feverishly as he carried her to the bed.  Lay, Lady, Lay began playing on the playlist and Bucky smiled at Tracey.  "You're so beautiful." 

Smiling back, she reached for him, cupping him over his briefs before pulling them off and pulling him into her.  There was no hesitation as he entered her and began thrusting.  For both, what happened next was basic instinctual biology as they each lost control of any inhibitions they may have previously had.  It was quick, almost violent, and brought them to a loud and very physical release.  After they were done they tried to piece together just what happened as Bucky brought some warm wet facecloths out to clean around some definite bite marks on each of them.

"I'm sorry," he whispered as he gently dabbed around them on her breast.  "It was like something came over me and I turned into a wild animal."

"What about what I did to you?" countered Tracey, wincing for him as she gently pressed the facecloth into the broken skin on his neck and shoulder.  "What the hell happened to us?" 

"Lost in the moment I guess.  I'll heal quickly but you, you're going to be marked.  I feel terrible."

Gently, she put her hand on his cheek and kissed him.  "It's alright.  It was an incredible orgasm, for what it's worth."  She thought of something and quickly went to the bathroom, coming back a few minutes later.  "Bucky, my IUD isn't there.  The threads to it are gone."

His head came up and he stared at her.  "What does that mean?"

"I could be pregnant."  At first, he said nothing.  "All night, I've really wanted you and when we got into it I felt like nothing else mattered but feeling every part of whatever we were doing.  Increased sexual desire is one of the signs of early pregnancy, no more than a couple of weeks, possibly.  Do you know if your super soldier pheromones are strong enough to affect your partner?"

"No, I don't know," he replied.  "I haven't been with many women since I escaped HYDRA and the men, well they were pretty much all demanding it quick and rough.  We didn't really talk or cuddle after."  He looked away, embarrassed.  "Are you disappointed in me?"

She was in front of him in a moment, kneeling down and holding his face in her hands so quickly it startled him. 

"Never," she replied in a voice so intense he could feel it deep inside.  "You are everything to me and what you did before you met me was how you coped with a basic human need, that's all.  We've kept it pretty low key since we became physical, which was fine but maybe it was just us getting used to each other or we were just not allowing ourselves to let go and it all came out tonight."

"Do you have any other symptoms?" he asked, in a voice that sounded both plaintive and hopeful.

"Well, possibly, but we've been a bit stressed with the wedding so I may have attributed it to that," she replied.  "I could take a home pregnancy test.  The really sensitive ones can tell early in the pregnancy.  It's best to take it in the morning when the pregnancy hormone is at its strongest concentration."

"Then we'll do that," he said, smiling softly at her.  "What about tonight?  I don't have any condoms with me."

"If I am pregnant then it's already happened," she replied.  "If I'm not ... maybe I'm meant to be, if you want."

His quick answer surprised him.  "Yeah, I want it.  I've wanted it since the war.  Would you be the mother of my child?"

"In a New York minute." 

They kissed passionately, accepting that what happened between them was meant to happen.  Whatever made them lose control was gone as they made love several more times during the night, in ways that were much more gentle but just as satisfying to them both.  Bucky promised to run to a pharmacy in the morning and buy a home pregnancy test to find out if they had even more to celebrate.  Until then they wouldn't worry about it.

Chapter 17>>

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[mj-iza-writer]

Oc in three

Thanks again to @writingphoenix.

Rule: introduce a character with three images.

I won't tag anyone this round. If you want to do this do it.... it's fun.

Sp Special Containment: Jaimie.

Jaimie has two personalities that keeps Mcgee on her toes.

One is super girly and bubbly. She is quick to switch though. She is very deadly and tricky though.

Aramais says she is a little devil, but he still wants to take care of her.

Still not sure if I'm supposed to share what the pics mean but you know I have to.

Ghostly person standing on field: Jaimie was kidnapped at young age by the Human Weapon organization. Because of her disappearance she wouldn't feel comfortable going home, and she doesn't quite feel visible tobthe real world.

Heel on hand: Jaimie was raised by the facility and in turn they were able to shape her into the perfect assassin. She always feels better in heels though.

Bloody person holding Teddy bear: because of her being kidnapped at a young age, she lost a lot of her childhood. She resorts back to having a childlike nature when she feels safe to do it. I like to think Jaimie has stickers all over her holdings cell because Mcgee brings them in.

☺️☺️☺️☺️☺️☺️☺️☺️☺️☺️

I'm going to do Whumpee's as well. This will b3 Whumpee from Sp Special Containment.

Just a reminder Whumpee is genderless.

Whumpee is baby... and everyone but Mitch would agree. A dangerous baby, but none the less.

Not much is known on how Whumpee ended up becoming a human weapon, they barely remember what happened.

They were so lucky to get Mitch as a trainer. That impatient ass was told to break Whumpee any means necessary. Whumpee had worked so hard to hold onto what little they had left.

Honestly Aramais doesn't even know what Mitch did to Whumpee, but Aramais will protect Whumpee at any cost now.

Pic time:

Person with shadows: Whumpee has severe mental health problem thanks to Mitch. They have been known to lose control of their survival mode when having an episode. Their inner world is brutal.

Patient being helped: This made me instantly think of Caretaker. It was the best move for Caretaker to take over Whumpee. Whumpee needed the patient understanding love from him to help them get settled into the facility.

Holding a Teddy bear: Whumpee is still young, the organization ruined a lot of Whumpee's childhood as well. They love these soft objects so much, and it makes it so much better to hug one.

Should I do the Director and four caregivers next?

[rose-sophia-isabella-rogers]

A Steel That Went Through Hottest Fire: Chapter XIII - A Leap in the Dark

Chapter Summary: Time passes and you continue working on an antidote for jurda parem. But when one night you see something that was supposed to be kept a secret from you, you're pulled away from it. You travel once more to the place where Aleksander died, but this time with more companions. There you witness something extraordinary that may change everything you all know.

Pairing: Aleksander Kirigan/Reader

Characters: Reader, Zoya Nazyalensky, Nikolai Lantsov, Tolya Yul-Bataar, Yuri Vedenen, Tamar Kit-Bataar, Sankt Juris, Sankta Elizaveta, Sankt Grigori

Word Count: 4713

A/N: This chapter contains plot and excerpts from "King of Scars".

Tag list (let me know if you want to be added or removed):

@budugu

@intothesoul

@mizelophsun11

@pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy

@zeeader

@marrymonrich

@wonderland2425

@chelseyyouraverageluigi

@thehufflepuffavenger1

@drinix

For some time now, David has been mostly busy with his new project. Sometimes, you can see he wants to talk to you about it and ask for your opinion. But you are allowed to work on only one thing. Which is nearly perfected. Thanks to you and Alkemi, with whom you have to work with, even though they whisper behind your back.

One day, Nikolai comes to your laboratory in Lazlayon. That's where you're working now. In an underground facility. You just love it.

'How can I help you, Your Highness?' you ask, not looking up from your work.

'You could give me an antidote, but I know you're doing the best you can,' Lantsov answers, stopping next to your table. 'Did you miss me, [L/N]?'

'My heart was dying from longing,' you reply sarcastically.

'Then it's a good thing I'm taking you back to Os Alta,' the King says. You look up at him, interested.

'Back to my cell?' you ask.

'Of course not,' Nikolay huffs. 'You'll live in your old room, as promised.'

'Why do you want me there?' you ask. Lantsov looks at you.

'I need David by my side,' he finally replies. 'And he made me promise I won't leave you here without him.'

'Sweet David,' you say, smiling softly. 'Very well, Your Highness. I shall go and pack.'

'And Zoya said you rarely follow orders,' the King says, as you clean your table. You snort.

'Only the stupid ones,' you say. Nikolai stares at you for a moment. Finally, he nods and walks away.

Together with Tolya, he brings you, David and Nadia back to the capital using an underground tunnel. There you work as usual. And take some breaks. Saints know you need them. Of course, you spend them alone. Kostyk and Zoya are always busy, and no one else is willing to be in your presence. Still, it's nothing new. It's always been like that. The only other person who wanted to be around you was… Aleksander. But now he's gone.

One day, you're walking through the corridor, when you almost bump into someone. A monk. But in black robes for some reason.

'I am so sorry,' you apologise to him. The man opens his mouth to probably accept your apology… but then his eyes fall on your kefta. Your last present from your General.

'You're [Y/N] [L/N],' he whispers in… awe? What a weird man.

'And you are…?' you ask, frowning. But before he can answer, Tolya, who's been here with him as well, takes him away. Thanks to you looking at them as they leave, you see the worried look the Heartrender casts your way.

'Hm,' you hum and go on your way. But you change your original course. You start eavesdropping. And you find out the monk is the leader of a new cult. They want to make your beloved a Saint. You almost laugh when you hear that. The Darkling? A Saint? Oh, you loved him, still do, but you know better than anyone that he was no saint. You spare no more thoughts to this cult.

At night, you sneak out for a ride. You still love the darkness and find comfort in it. Which you don't find this time, as you see Tolya, Tamar (Tolya's twin, also a Heartrender) and Zoya hurrying away somewhere. You don't hesitate. You're tired of secrets. You follow them until you reach Balakirev.

On the main square they split up. Tolya and Tamar enter a building. Zoya stays in the shadows. You hide in another ones. After a moment, the Squaller suddenly uses her powers to bring herself on top of a bell tower. You raise your eyebrows, surprised at her stupidity. But you're worried about your friend. So, you hurry to her, but use the stairs.

You hear her shouts and toiling of a bell. You speed up. You throw open the door to the bell tower.

'Zoya!' you shout, rushing forward, but then you stop, shocked. Holding the Squaller is something that looks closely like a nichevo. Nazyalensky looks at you with panic. The creature raises her higher.

'Let her go!' you cry, running to them. But then the monster freezes, so you stop again as well. It looks at you for a moment. Then… it lets Zoya go. She falls on the ground with a grunt.

'What-' you start, but you're cut off, when the monster seems to transform. Shadows disappear. It falls on the ground but no longer looking like a nichevo. It's a man a with golden hair. Bleeding and unconscious. But you still recognise him. Nikolai.

You stare at Zoya in shock, not even registering Tolya and Tamar showing up behind you. Your former friend is looking at you with wide eyes, her face pale. You were clearly not supposed to know this secret.

'What are you doing here?' Tolya asks harshly. You don't turn, just still stare at Zoya.

'I was sneaking out when I saw you leaving, so I followed you instead,' you explain, your voice flat. 'You've been acting suspicious and since I'm kept in the dark, I wanted to finally learn something. I didn't expect that, though. By how organised you seemed, I'm guessing it's not the first time.'

They don't answer. You exhale shakily.

'How?' you ask. 'I mean… Was he even hurt by one of them?'

'Just before the Darkling died,' Tamar answers. 'It left him with a wound.'

'Poisoned him with merzost,' you say quietly. Zoya perks up at that.

'Did you find a way to save him?' she asks. 'Did you find a way to get rid of it from his body?'

You look at her. Aleksander had no visible scars. During the fight they haven't even realised he's healed. You could lie… but what for?

'I did,' you admit but shake your head. 'But I don't think it will work here. Kirigan wasn't changing into a nichevo. Merzost was feeding on his body. I could… try, but I don't think it is going to help.'

'Try at least,' Tamar says. You bite your lip. You sigh and walk to Nikolai. You take out an alexandrite from your pocket. You kneel by the King's side and put the stone in his hand. You clasp it and close your eyes. You focus. You try to reach for merzost in Lantsov.

There. You try to grab it. But it slips away from you. You try again and again. Suddenly, there's a hand on your shoulder, shaking you harshly. You blink and look up. You see Zoya's wide eyes.

'You were shaking and your nose is bleeding,' she explains, her own voice shaking.

'I couldn't grab it,' you explain after a beat. Then, your eyes roll back and you fall on the ground. The Squaller's alarmed shouts are the last thing you hear before sleep takes you in its hold.

*

The next day, Nikolai finds you in a garden. You're looking at flowers, but there's no admiration in your eyes. Just the same look the King always sees when he talks to you. With no light in your eyes.

'I'm sorry,' you say after he stares at you for a moment. He shakes his head.

'You tried your best,' he says and stands next to you. 'Do you have any idea what's happening to me?'

'Merzost is… complicated,' you say. 'I've studied Morozova's journal but most of it was gibberish. And I've never really had a chance to study nichevoy'a. What's happening to you is different than Kirigan's pollution. It was killing him, while I think it's trying…'

'To take control of me,' Nikolay finishes when you trail off. You nod.

'Has it been happening since you were attacked?' you ask after a beat. Lantsov sighs.

'No,' he denies, shaking his head. 'Is started a few months ago. Coincidentally, around the same time "the miracles" started happening.'

'Bridge from bones etc.?' you ask and the King nods. 'You think they're connected.'

'To each other… and to the Darkling,' he confirms, his expression grim. Your eyes snap to him.

'When I turn… I seem to be always heading toward the Fold,' he explains. 'Same as the miracles. Do you know the story of Sankt Feliks?'

You look at him, surprised at this sudden change of topic. You nod slowly.

'Apparently, the place where he died was a holy place,' Nikolai says. 'Men came there to be purified.'

'The obisbaya,' you whisper. 'The Ritual of the Burning Thorn. I read about it. I don't remember the details. Is it what will you try to do?'

'I think it is my only hope,' Lantsov confirms. 'I plan to go to that place, visiting the miracles sites on my way there.'

'And where is… there?' you ask, but you already suspect the answer. He's silent for a moment.

'The Fold,' he finally answers. 'The centre of it.'

'Where he created the Fold,' you say. 'And then died. Maybe it all is really connected. I understand why you want to check it, though. What I don't understand… is that monk I saw yesterday. Why is he here?'

'I didn't want the Apparat to start a battle between his men and Yuri's pilgrims,' Nikolai explains. 'He's my guest. And now he will accompany me to the Fold. I learnt about the ritual from him. He needs to gets me the details of it. With Tolya.'

'What does he want in return?' you ask. The King's mouth twitch upward.

'He wants the Darkling to be made a saint,' he answers. 'He wants me to support it.'

'He's a fool,' you say after a beat. 'I loved him, but he definitely wasn't a saint. He didn't care about otkazat'sya. He received too much hatred from them. You're not going to fulfil his wish, are you?'

'He needs to believe I consider it,' Nikolai says. 'I do understand him a bit. The Darkling was a presence that drew people in. He needs an ideal to believe in.'

You hum. You look at the flowers again. The King observes you.

'I'd like you to come with us as well,' he says. You frown at him.

'What?' you ask. 'Why?'

'Because you stopped me from killing Zoya last night,' Nikolai answers. 'It listened to you. I have some precautions always taken at night. But if they fail, like they did last night… I want to be certain I am stopped before I hurt someone. And since it listened to you…'

You stare at each other for a long moment. You finally nod after a moment.

'Alright,' you agree. 'But let's hope it won't come to it.'

'Obviously,' Lantsov agrees, grinning, but then his look softens. 'Thank you, [Y/N]. Truly.'

'Don't thank me yet,' you say. 'I may kill that monk if he will annoy me too much.'

'I think Zoya would help you hide the body, so no one would ever find out,' the King says. Your lips twitch slightly. You turn your head back to the flowers. Taking his cue, Nikolai bids you farewell and walks away, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

When you set out, at first you travel with Tolya and Yuri in the coach, helping them deciphering the texts about the ritual. But after a day of getting awed glances from the monk, you threaten Nikolai that you'll leave if he doesn't let you travel on a horse.

You're not a fool, you know the couch was offered to you not because they need your help with those texts, but because they want as little people as possible to see you, the Darkling's most trusted Grisha. But seeing the fury in your eyes, the King relents. Under the condition you'll wear your old kefta. After glancing at Yuri, who's looking at you as if planning to start campaigning for you to become a saint as well, you agree.

At evenings, when you arrive at local noblemen's houses, you spend little time with everyone, not wanting anyone to realise who you are. You don't want Lantsov to have troubles because of you. Luckily, no one pays you much attention.

In towns you visit, you watch Nikolai using his charm on people, helping them. They love him. And he cares about them. You see that. Part of you wishes that Aleksander saw that young Lantsov can be a good king. You wish they had worked together, instead of fighting. You imagine they'd be unstoppable together and would accomplish great things. Like actually fix Ravka and win the war.

In Aden, you split from the group. You are nervous about entering the Fold. True, you've done it a few times in the past months, but this feels different. Zoya has noticed your state earlier and asked you about it. After a moment of silence, you answered her that it feels like you're going to say your final goodbye and you're not sure if you're ready. You saw the sympathy in her eyes and you suspect that's the reason they let you leave their side.

However, a scream causes you to turn around and hurry back. It's day, so you're surprised that Nikolai has turned, as they tell you he's always done it at night. But it's not the creature that has attacked them.

Khergud. Biologically augmented Shu Han soldiers designed to capture Grisha. Created by Fabrikators dosed with jurda parem, khergud are constructed from the bodies of those who have died. They are heavily modified, the most notable addition being rapid-beat wings made of metal and canvas, as well as increased senses and a layer of metal skin.

Metal.

You find your companions. You see Tamar and Tolya under some net. Nikolai is fighting with one khergud. Zoya is nowhere to be found.

You bring your hands together and focus. You see her widening her eyes in surprise. She's lifted in the air but not by her wings.

'Find Zoya!' you shout to the King, who's already noticed you running to them. Lantsov doesn't need to be told twice.

Your opponent is fighting back. But you're one with metals in her body. You control her now. And you make her stay still, as you slit her throat. Once she falls on the ground, dead, you help the twins.

In the meantime, Zoya saves herself using lightning, but falls. Nikolai changes into the monster and saves her, but she has no idea he's in control, so she shocks him as well. They fall but Zoya cushions their fall. The King is himself again.

Yuri is shocked as well. Nikolai promises to explain everything to him and asks him to keep silent. While they wake up the monk that was their guide and was hit during the attack, you focus on metals around you. But you don't feel more khergud.

Later, when they explain things to Yuri, you're not with them. You want to study the bodies of khergud. They're hidden now from the villagers, you don't want to spread panic after all, but it's not a problem for you. However, you don't find anything useful. Nothing you wouldn't already knew.

'The monk placated?' you ask Tamar when you return. You meet her in front of your room. She's going to watch you, no doubt.

'For now,' she answers, eyeing you. 'Why are you really here?'

You pause. You know the twins don't trust you. And they will not believe anything you say.

'I am planning to bring the Darkling back right under your noses,' you say flatly. Tamar glares at you. She almost growls. You scoff.

'I do care about this country, Tamar,' you say. 'And I believe Nikolai is a good king. I want to help.'

You walk past her and enter the room. You exhale slowly and prepare for bed. But you don't sleep. You can't. Not when you're so close to the Fold. You're in for yet another sleepless night.

*

You enter the Fold in disguises. You travel on the skiff you've built years ago. Other Durasts have repaired it after it was destroyed when the Darkling attempted to take Alina's power. They did good. You're proud of them.

You're on deck the whole time, staring ahead. You're to meet with pilgrims. You're not sure you can do it. To see people who worship a man you love. They think of him as the Starless Saint. To you he's just Aleksander.

'What is that?' you suddenly hear Nikolai ask. You frown and look at the sight ahead.

'A lake?' Zoya asks.

'No,' Yuri denies. 'A miracle.'

'If I pointed to a leaky faucet, you'd say it was a miracle,' Zoya says, annoyed. You barely manage to stop a smile forming on your lips. You focus on the dark mass. It is a gleaming black disk of stone, at least a mile across, perfectly round and shiny as a mirror. Around it are tents and shelters. The pilgrims.

'This is the place where the Starless One fell,' says Yuri with reverence. You don't hear more. Your mind recreates the scene. Aleksander on the ground. You on your knees. His last words to you. His lifeless look.

You turn sharply and march away, fighting back the tears and trying to calm down your breathing. You stop on the other end of the skiff. You're not ready. You can't say goodbye yet.

A moment later you turn. You watch Nikolai and Zoya leaving. You're glad you don't have to go yet. You don't want to face the pilgrims. The Squaller clearly didn't want either, as she returns fuming. You observe her, worried. A moment later Tolya and Tamar jump from the skiff. You walk to the remained three.

Zoya twists her wrist. You feel the change in the air. She sands shift, forming familiar and unfamiliar people. Wind howls. You look around with worry. The pilgrims are panicking down there. Nikolai tries to stop Zoya. Finally, she lets the sand drop.

You take a step toward her, but then you feel weird. A wave of dizziness strikes you. The world seems to flicker and warp. You fall hard on the floor, feeling like you're about to throw up. Others seem to have the same problems. Yuri does throw up.

'What just happened?' Zoya asks, pushing to her feet. 'Why-'

She stops, seeing that somehow everyone is gone. And everything, too, even the tents. The sky is different as well. No longer blue but a grey twilight.

'Where are Tolya and Tamar?' Nikolai asks.

'Where are they?' Yuri asks. 'What happened to them? What did you do?'

'I didn't do anything!' Zoya protests. 'It was a little storm. No one was in any danger.'

'Perhaps we are gone?' you suggest. But you have no idea how and where.

'Am I having some kind of episode?' Nikolai asks, staring into the distance. 'Or are you seeing this too?'

You turn. Above you looms a palace from sand. Or maybe more like a city. You marvel at the sight in front of you.

'Whoever did this, is a genius,' you say in awe. 'How-'

You're interrupted by a shriek. You look around, alarmed. Volcra?

'It's a miracle,' says Yuri, falling on his knees. Another shrieks. Dark shapes seem to break from the palace and move toward you at incredible speed.

'It's not a miracle,' Nikolai says, reaching for his revolvers. 'It's a trap.'

Bees. You see bees. And… something. Something that change shape. And also… a dragon. You finally went mad, then.

'Zoya, say something spiteful,' Nikolai pleads.

'Why?' Zoya asks faintly.

'Because I'm fairly certain I'm hallucinating and in my dreams you're much nicer,' the King explains.

'You're an idiot, Nikolai,' the Squaller says.

'Not your best work.'

'I'm sorry I can't deliver better wordplay right now. I seem to be paralysed with fear.'

'Okay… let's not panic and think,' you say, albeit also fearfully.

'Do something!' Zoya says to Nikolai.

'Like what?' the King asks.

'You have guns!' the Squaller points out.

'I'm not going to shoot at bees,' he protests.

'It would be hard,' you agree.

'Then shoot at that thing,' Zoya says. Nikolai opens fire at the grotesque. His bullets struck its shifting body. But they are absorbed in its body, then emerge a second later.

Above you, the dragon roars and spreads its wings. It fires flames at you. Luckily, Zoya creates a dome of air over your heads in time. But you still feal the heat. The dragon stops and shrikes.

'I think it's safe to say we're outgunned,' says Nikolai.

'Lay down your arms,' the grotesque says in a chorus of voices.

'You first,' you murmur.

'In a moment,' replies Nikolai. 'I'm finding them very reassuring right now. Yuri, get off your damned knees and at least try to look like you can fight.'

'Or at least defend yourself,' you add. 'Because certainly no one is in a mood to fight and look after you.'

'You don't understand,' Yuri says, his eyes full of tears.

'That is entirely correct, and I hate not understanding,' you say and threaten your enemies with your fist. 'Who are you?! What do you want?! Where are we?! And how did we get here?!'

'[Y/N], do try not to piss them off,' Nikolai says nervously. You look at him, fuming.

'Oh, and they can piss me off?' you huff.

'I'm going to raise the sands again,' says Zoya. 'If I bring a big enough storm, we'll have cover to get… somewhere. You'll need to work the sails. I won't be able to control the storm and direct the skiff.'

'Do it,' Nikolai says. He opens fire, trying to lend Zoya cover as she sweeps her arms forward and the sands rise with a whoosh. It forces the creatures back, giving you and Lantsov time to seize the lines, releasing the sail. The canvas snaps, filling the air, driving you toward what you all hope are the borders of the Fold.

Suddenly the ground beneath you seems to buckle. The skiff lists precariously starboard as one of its runners is peeled away from the sand. Zoya and Yuri lose their footing, but the Squaller does not falter and keeps the winds in motion. You and Nikolai try to use the storm to right the skiff. But it's like the sands are alive and the skiff tilts higher.

'We're going over!' you shout with alarm. You land in an unceremonious heap. The King somehow manages to quickly gather himself up and rolls you all to safety. But the skiff thumps harmlessly down to its other side and the sands instantly calm.

Shapes emerge out of the sand – a regiment of sand soldiers. Without faces but with detailed uniforms. Zoya raises her hands and sends a fierce gust of wind slamming into them, but they stand solid and unmoving.

'What are they?' she asks. The soldiers keep coming.

'I think we're being shown just how overmatched we are,' Lantsov says.

'By whom?' you ask. The sand soldiers take a step as one. You, Nikolai and Zoya stand back-to-back, surrounded. Next to you, Yuri remains on his knees, his face filled with a kind of manic elation.

'I don't know how to fight this,' the Squaller says. 'Is it the part where we die well?'

'No, this is the part where the king of Ravka surrenders himself and the love we never had lives on in ballads and songs,' Lantsov denies. You look at him, surprised.

'Nikolai,' snaps Zoya, 'don't you dare.'

'Give me another option, Nazyalensky. One of us needs to survive this,' the King says and lowers his voice. 'Get back to the capital and rally the Grisha.'

'I don't like this plan,' you say. Nikolai ignores you. He tosses his revolvers to the sand and raises his hands.

'I'm not sure who I'm surrendering to-' he starts. The dragon interrupts him, turning sharply in the air and diving for you.

'Zoya, [Y/N], get down!' Lantsov shouts, lunging at you two.

'Like hell,' your friend mutters. She knocks you and the King into the sands, bracing before him with her feet planted and her arms raised.

The dragon unleashes its fire and Nazyalensky lets loose the storm. For a moment they seem to be evenly matched. Then, she manages to take the air out of the creature's lungs. Lantsov lunges for his guns, ready to seize the opportunity, but the dragon releases a deafening roar. Another flames leave its mouth, this time blue, brighter and hotter.

'Zoya!' you and Nikolai shout, but the Squaller has already fisted her hands and raised them again, driving an icy wind against the dragon's onslaught. She screams, struggling to fight back. Next to you, Lantsov opens fire on the dragon, but the bullets melt before they even come near the creature's scales because of the temperature of the fire.

And then your friend collapses. The storm ends. You and Nikolai hurry to her, both of you relieved she's still alive. The dragon withdraws its fire. It hovers in the air, watching.

'Zoya,' you say softly, as the King takes her in his arms. The dragon lands before you, folding its wings. You put yourself in front of your friends, though you're terrified.

'Stay back,' you say, bringing your hands together. You have no idea how you could fight it. It would probably turn you to ashes, before your control of metal in its body could hurt it.

'The Durast girl,' says the dragon, causing you to widen your eyes. 'The traitor. The light in the darkness. And the boy king. The war hero. The prince with a demon curled inside his heart.'

'Saints,' you whisper, shocked it can talk. The dragon seems to laugh, as it leans forward.

'If I wanted to harm her, she would be ashes, girl,' it says. 'So would you all.'

'Then what, this was your version of a warm greeting?' you scoff. It rumbles with laugh again.

'I wanted to see what she could do,' it explains. Just then Zoya releases a howl of pure anguish. You and Nikolai stare at her, surprised.

'What is it?' he asks, looking for any wounds. But she casts him off, scrabbling in the sand, another wail of rage and pain tearing from her chest.

'For Saints' sake, Zoya, what's wrong?' you ask. She snatches up something that glints in her hand and clutch it to her chest, sobbing. It takes the King a moment to force her fingers open. Cradled in her palm, you see the broken halves of her silver cuff. Her amplifier shattered.

'No,' she sobs. 'No.'

'Yes,' hisses the dragon. You glare at him, but then look softly at your friend. You can try to mend it… but it may be even beyond your abilities.

'Juris, stop this,' says a woman, emerging from between the rows of soldiers. She wears a dress of blooming roses that blossom and die in curling vines around her body. Her golden hair is a buzzing mass of bees that swarm and cluster around her face.

'You got your battle,' she says to the dragon. 'They know what they are facing.'

'The first bit of excitement we've had in years, Elizaveta, and you seem determined to deny me my fun,' the creature says. 'Very well.'

It heaves its shoulders in a shrug and shifts and shrinks, becoming a towering man in finely wrought chainmail that glitters like black scales. The sand soldiers part to reveal the grotesque, his body still shifting and changing, now covered in eyes.

'What is it?' Nikolai demands, as your mouth forms an 'o' from shock. 'Who are you?'

'Do the people not pray for Saints?' asks the man called Juris, looking at you with amusement.

'At last,' weeps Yuri, steel kneeling. 'At last.'

'Come,' says Elizaveta, extending a hand. 'We will explain all.'

You and Nikolai understand at the same time. Sankta Lizabeta, who was martyred in a field of roses. Sankt Juris, who-

'So,' you say. 'I was right with the "Saints".'

'You slew the dragon,' the King says to Juris. 'It's… it's all in all of the stories.'

'Sometimes the stories are rough on the details,' says Juris with a gleaming smile. 'Come, boy king, Durast girl. It's time we talked.'

A/N: Thank you for reading! Let me know your thoughts! Reblog, like and comment if you could. Every comment makes my day!

This can also be found on Archive of Our Own: https://archiveofourown.org/works/52696933/chapters/134809147