#OK THIS THOUGHT HAS BEEN RATTLING IN MY HEAD
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jkapocalypse · 1 year ago
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AHHHHH IVE BEEN MEANING TO SHARE THIS!!
OKOKOK WHAT IF CARS DIDN’T TURN? LIKE THEY STILL TURN, BUT THE DONT TURN
JUST??? SOMETHING LIKE
LIKE WHAT IF??????
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jobean12-blog · 5 months ago
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The Fine Print
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader (CEO!Bucky AU)
Word Count: 4,126
Summary: You've been working under Bucky for almost a year and he's always been a grumpy ass and even though when the lines get blurred you can't seem to stay away.
Author's Note: These new pics and all the new gym shots and vids and yum! Just being fed so well! I like the idea of a grumpy CEO who just wants you and he's mad about it. No excuse for being a dick but he's not really all bad. And anyway, I'd never tell him no...haha! Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Thank you Daisy for the lovely divider @firefly-graphics😘
Warnings: Grumpy ass Bucky (he's a total ass sometimes but has moments of softness), sassy reader, lots of tension, flirting, curses, fingering, light dirty talk
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“Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
You’re late. Only twenty minutes but it’s long enough that your grumpy ass of a boss will have your head for it.
Grumpy…and an ass but entirely too gorgeous.
You pick up the pace, precariously balancing your files and bags and hoping you don’t faceplant on the newly shined floors.
Getting a flat tire on the highway this morning wasn’t on your long to-do list for today, but it still happened and now you’ll have to deal with a very cranky Mr. Barnes.
You round the corner and enter your office, ready to give your usual sunshine filled greeting.
“Good morning, Mr. Barnes!”
He’s standing at your desk, arms crossed over his broad chest and his eyes hard.
“Is it a good morning?” he asks, not bothering to move out of the way as you try to slip around him. “What time is it?”
You stop and meet his glare.
“I had some car trouble this morning. I got a flat on my way in.”
Your voice comes out steady and strong and relief floods through you. This was the first time you were late, and you were not going to be reprimanded.
“Trouble is quite the fitting word for what I’ve been dealing with in your absence.”
You glance up at him and his antagonizing stare, and blink away your surprise at his words.
“I would have thought you would at least ask me if I was ok Mr. Barnes,” you say sweetly and with a smile. “After all, how could I possibly manage to fix a flat tire all on my own.”  
His jaw clenches tightly.
“Obviously you managed,” he counters. “And you look just fine.”
Beautiful blue eyes wander languidly down your body before making their slow perusal back up to study your face.
You try to school your features and when he raises an expectant brow you bite back with, “Thankfully I am fine, and I got help but I’m sorry you’ve had to deal with the burden of picking up a telephone and sending an e-mail all on your own this morning. It won’t happen again.”
He takes a step closer to you and you stop yourself from swaying forward to get a hint of his scent.
Traitorous body. If only the fucker wasn’t so fucking hot.
“You’re right. It won’t,” he replies with a smug smile. “And just so you don’t forget, I’d like to see…”
He spends the next minute rattling off several project pieces he’d like to see completed and on his desk by the end of the day.
“And then you can make up the half an hour you missed by getting together a mock presentation for our meeting tomorrow.”
When your nostrils flare, he smiles triumphantly and dips his head, so his warm breath caresses the shell of your ear.
“I’ll see you in the conference room at six.”
He turns away and slams his office door behind him and you let out an exasperated puff of air.
“It was only twenty minutes asshole.”
You mutter the words under your breath as you plop into your office chair and continue to curse his name in grumbles.
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There’s a light knock on the door before it opens and you know you’re about to hear the voice of your friend and coworker, Jess.
“I know you’re working through lunch,” she says. “So at least let me get you something.”
You don’t look up but smile nonetheless, your fingers flying over the keyboard with ease.
“Honestly, I don’t even think I have time to eat,” you say before hitting the period button hard and meeting her eyes.
Jess gives you a sympathetic look. “I’ll grab you something nutritious.”
She waves before gently shutting the door. You lean over to check your desk drawer for snacks, the mention of lunch reminding you that you are in fact, hungry. At the same time that you see you have nothing to eat you notice a tear in your stockings.
“Son of a bitch,” you grumble. “I just bought these.”
Less than a minute later your door opens again and without looking up from your screen you whine, “do you know what, after the morning I’ve had I think I’ll take something sweet…maybe a cookie. Or twelve. Or chocolate of any kind.”
When you receive no acknowledgement, in return you glance up and see that Jess is not standing at your door.
You quickly tug the hem of your skirt down, noting how Bucky’s eyes track the movement and linger on your legs.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Barnes, I didn’t realize…”
“Since your morning has been so awful,” he starts, his sly smile growing, “why don’t you run down to the café and pick us both up some lunch.”
Your lips purse and once again his eyes seem glued to every action you take.
“Mr. Barnes, Jess has just come in and said she would grab me something to eat so I can continue working through lunch.”
When he doesn’t say anything, you continue.
“I have A LOT to get done.”
“I’m sure you’ll make it work,” he says before rattling off his lunch order.
He turns on his heel and takes two long strides back to his office, pulling the door closed hard behind him.
“What the f…?”
You don’t even finish the sentence when he opens the door again and pokes his head out.
“Make sure you get yourself something to eat. We’re going to be here late.”
The door slams shut again, and you abruptly stand, your rolling chair flying back into the wall as you storm off.
“Why does he care if I eat or not?” you ask yourself as you angrily stuff things into your bag and throw it over your shoulder.
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The rest of the day goes by far too quickly and you find yourself cursing out the copy machine as you wait for the rest of your papers to go through. Checking your phone you see you’re already almost ten minutes late to your afterhours ‘meeting.’
You rush down the dim hall of the now empty building, your presentation materials clutched tightly to your chest and glance again at your phone.
Fifteen minutes. Shit.
As you near the conference room, you try to calm your breathing and slow to a walk. A soft light shines from under the door, and you know he’s in there waiting for you.
Taking a deep breath you knock.
“Come in.”
You walk into the large room, never failing to take in the view of the city that the floor to ceiling windows along one wall highlight.
At the head of the large dark wood conference table, sits Bucky. His suit jacket is hanging haphazardly over the back of his chair, his tie is loose around his neck, and the crisp white sleeves of his button down are rolled up to his elbows.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Barnes. The copy machine…”
Realizing you’ve been apologizing all day, and it has made no difference, you stop yourself and lift your chin, walking over to where he sits and placing down your papers, sorting through them as quickly as possible so you can begin.
“Have you eaten dinner?” he asks.
His question takes you completely by surprise and you meet his piercing blue eyes with a confused expression.
“I uh…I had lunch.”
“That doesn’t answer my question sweetheart.”
At his sugared endearment, your eyes widen, and your breath catches in your throat, but you regain your composure.
“No. I haven’t.”
He just nods and gestures to the papers, clearly waiting for you to get started.
You lean over the table, searching for the paper you need and in your disheveled state don’t realize your entire lower body is practically draped over him.
“I just need to find…”
The words catch in your throat when you feel his fingers softly touch your thigh, slowly inching higher to reveal the tear in your stocking. His fingertips trace the sheared fabric and press against your skin, igniting it with heat.
Every muscle in your body tenses, your heart pounds in your chest and your brain screams at you to push him away but you don’t dare move.
“Look at me,” he demands, pressing his fingertips harder into your skin.
You straighten and turn to face him, his hand sliding up and over the curve of your hip to settle on your waist.
“Mr. Barnes?” you ask, keeping your eyes trained on his.
“James. Call me James.”
The intensity of his stare makes your breath catch and when he doesn’t answer and instead continues letting his hand trace your curves you battle with your emotions.
“The next time you have car trouble,” and his hand slips under your skirt again, “you call me.”
“What? Why would I?”
His fingertips graze the lace top of your stocking before he lifts your skirt higher and drops his eyes between your legs.
“Because I said so,” he murmurs, teasing along your inner thigh.
Your hand falls to the table to steady yourself and you willingly spread your legs open when he gives them a slight push.
“That’s hardly a good reason,” you breathe out.
“Fuck,” he growls, and his eyes fall closed.
You glance down at his lap and see him straining against the expensive fabric of his pants.
He smooths two fingers along the line of your panties, lightly pressing against your swollen and sensitive clit. His eyes open and he looks furious, fisting the thin material in his hand and in one quick movement, tearing it off.
He pulls you down roughly onto his lap, your skirt riding up over your hips to accommodate the wide spread of your legs as you straddle him.
An involuntary moan slips past your parted lips when he grabs your ass and drags you down over his hard cock.
When he opens his mouth to speak you grab his tie between your fingers and use it to pull his mouth to yours. Every sweep of his lips is heaven, and you release his tie to rake your fingers through his hair.
He makes a low, angry noise deep in his throat and you trail your lips along his jaw, kissing your way down the strong column of his neck.
His hand slides from your ass and slips between your legs, his fingers brushing through the wetness just before there’s a knock on the door.
You both go completely still and wait. When a second knock sounds, he quietly curses and gently lifts you off his lap.
You quickly pull your skirt down and smooth your hands over your hips. He watches your every move as he runs a hand through his mussed hair and sits up in the chair, hiding his legs and erection under the table.
“What?” he growls, loud enough for whomever is on the other side to hear.
“Mr. Barnes, we’re scheduled to do maintenance in here tonight.”
He curses again and continues to stare at you.
“I’m just finishing a meeting. Give me five minutes.”
“Of course, Mr. Barnes,” the maintenance manager, says, “take your time.”
His chest rises and falls rapidly as he splays his hands out over the tabletop. Hastily he stands and tries to straighten his tie, his eyes landing on your ripped panties that lie on the floor.
He grabs them and rubs the silky fabric between his fingers.
“Make sure you eat something,” he says and then shrugs on his suit jacket, tucking your panties into the breast pocket.
You’re clutching the table and staring as he grabs his briefcase and starts toward the door.
“It’s late. I’m going to have security walk you to your car,” he states, finally meeting your eyes.
His groan is pained as his gaze travels down your body and then he disappears out the door.
You fall back into a chair and try to calm your breathing. You’d have to be out of here in a minute and you didn’t want to look suspicious. Seeing movement outside the door you begin gathering your things and stand on still shaky legs.
With a deep inhale you straighten your shoulders and walk out the door with a serene smile, greeting the head of security and thanking him for escorting you out.
What the fuck just happened?
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The next morning you’re making your way into the office when he walks in. You do nothing more than greet him with a curt nod, giving him a wide berth of space as you make your way to your desk.
You can feel his eyes on you, the lick of heat traveling down your spine. You’re wearing your favorite dress and while it’s appropriate for the workspace it accentuates all the right spots, and you smile to yourself as you bend down to retrieve something from your desk drawer.
Regardless of what transpired last night you are not going to let it affect your work. You felt powerful and confident in this dress and Mr. Barnes can fuck off.
You peek over your shoulder to find him standing halfway in the doorway of his office and staring. You raise your brows and blink.
He clears his throat and mumbles a short “good morning,” then steps into his office and slams the door.
You roll your eyes and promise yourself he’ll be the last thing on your mind as you set out to get as much work done today as possible.
As lunch approaches you grab your bag and reach for your wallet. Your fingers close around a crumpled piece of paper, and you start to smile when you’re reminded of what it is.
You knock on his office door and saunter inside when he says, “come in.” The receipt hits his desk with a smack and without an explanation you turn and walk back out.
You almost make it to the first step in the stairwell when you hear footsteps approach behind you.
“Where the hell do you think you’re running off to?” he calls.
You continue walking and make it down one flight of steps before saying, “to get lunch.”
He meets you on the landing and clutches your elbow, spinning you around and pushing you against the wall.
Your eyes narrow contemptuously.
He whips the receipt out and in front of your face. “Want to explain this sweetheart?”
You let out a wry chuckle. “You know for such a smart guy you really are an ass sometimes. It’s a receipt.”
“I can see that,” he says through clenched teeth. “What I want to know is why you’re making purchases for…lingerie…on my company credit card.”
“Some jerk ripped up my favorite pair of panties last night.”
You shrug your shoulders and try to skirt past him.
His hand meets the wall next to your head, his fingers curling and crumpling the receipt and you can feel how tightly the muscles in his body are flexed when he presses closer.
He looks tormented for the split second before his lips crash down on yours and your treacherous body melts into the kiss.
His cock throbs against your stomach as he tries to hike your dress up over your thighs. Reluctantly he steps back, making enough space so he can slowly slide your dress higher, above your panties and look his fill.
“I like this pair even more than last nights,” he simpers.
His fingers hook into the lace at your hip, and you grab his shirt. “Don’t you dare Barnes.”   
“You can buy as many new pairs as you want.”
He once again easily tears them from your hips.
Your lips part in shock but he swallows your sassy remark with his mouth. The roughness of his kiss is a sharp contrast to the way his fingers softly tease between your legs.
You need more but you’ll be damned if you’re going to beg him for it. As if he can read your inner thoughts, his eyes light up in triumph when he pulls away to meet your gaze.
“As much as I want to hear you beg me for it sweetheart, I already know how badly you want it. You’re soaked for me.”
“You’re such an ass…”
He slides a finger inside you and your combined groans echo in the empty stairwell, the insult dying on your lips.
His stare is intense as he dips his head to your ear, warm lips brushing ever so gently when he whispers, “say please and I’ll give you what you want.”
Instead, you nip at his jaw, stifling the moan of need that threatens to rise in your throat. He continues pumping one finger in and out, sweat beginning to bead on his brow and his teeth gritted.
You hiss out a curse that’s followed by a breathy “please.”
You’re expecting him to be smug but instead he slows his movements and languidly pushes a second finger inside you, clearly relishing the way your eyelids flutter closed and you clench around him.
“That’s it sweetheart. Show me how much you love it when I fuck you with my fingers.”
His words practically send you over the edge but it’s the press of his thumb to your clit that makes your legs start to shake and his name fall from your lips like a prayer.
When his head falls to your neck and he places soft kisses along your skin, traveling up to your ear to whisper, “come for me gorgeous,” you let go and dig your fingernails into his strong shoulders, finishing with a muffled cry.
He draws out your pleasure with the slow push and pull of his fingers before sliding them out and holding them between you, his skin glistening under the harsh fluorescent lights.
His fingers press to his lips, parting them as he licks them clean, clearly savoring every drop of your taste.
“I knew you’d be sweet,” he croons.
“James,” you whimper when your hands fall to his pants.
He grabs your wrist to stop you and pushes your hand away. With soft movements he fixes your dress, smoothing his hands along your curves.
“But…” you start, and he silences you with a kiss.
You’re breathless and your head is fuzzy by the time he pulls away and with a wink he steps back and says, “lunch is over. We have a meeting to attend.”
He turns on his heel and jogs back up the steps with ease. Your narrowed eyes follow him before you let out a frustrated huff and walk on wobbly legs in the same direction.
You had forgotten all about the meeting…the one you were supposed to go over the plans for the night before.
When you walk into the large conference room everyone is already seated and Bucky is of course at the head of the table. His eyes are trained on you as you walk to the front and place your things down near him.
The presentation you’re giving shouldn’t take more than ten minutes, but there’s a lot riding on it and after what just happened, you’re obviously feeling flustered.
You open your document and greet and address the room, doing everything in your power to keep your focus on where it belongs and not on him.
But when you pause your eyes lock with his and your ability to speak is momentarily stolen. His gaze is intense, the heat simmering there almost palpable.
With a clear of your throat you continue, fumbling slightly but thankfully recovering quick enough that no one seems to notice. No one but him.
His perfect lips raise in a lopsided grin, and he runs his tongue along the seam of his lips. It’s clear where his thoughts are, and you must tear your eyes away to unscramble your head. He’s obviously trying to fluster you and quickly your nerves are replaced with anger, and you use it to fuel the rest of your presentation, finishing it with ease.
You sit with a smile and lift your chin, challenging him with your eyes. He stares right back.
“Thank you,” he says, addressing you by your first name as he stands and commands the room. “That was an excellent presentation. Clearly, you were well prepared.”
You can’t tell if his words are mocking or meaningful and it sets you on edge. He moves around the room and answers any lingering questions before ending the meeting with a dismissive hand.
As people stand and gather their things, Bucky comes up behind you, pressing his chest close to your back as he leans in to pretend to grab something from the table.
“I wasn’t sure you were going to make it thought that” he chuckles.
To everyone else it appears he’s making a funny remark, but you can feel your skin heat at his proximity and taunting words.
“Ugh,” you say through gritted teeth. “You would have loved that wouldn’t you?”
You can feel your eyes fill with unshed tears, the emotions of the day finally catching up to you and when his gaze finds yours his expression morphs from haughty to soft in an instant.
It only sends you reeling again, the confusion flooding through you and before he can say more you gather your things and rush out the door. Unexpectedly, he’s hot on your heels all the way to the elevator.
There are several other people on it so when you stop at the next floor and more employees file in, you’re squeezed toward the back, pushed farther into him, your ass against his crotch.
He’s hard and you feel the rest of him stiffen with the sharp intake of his breath. You take a step away from him, as much as you can in the confined space, but he reaches forward and grips your hip to pull you back.
“Don’t move,” he whispers into your neck.
“I’m two seconds away from shoving my heel up your ass,” you seethe.
He leans even closer, keeping a firm grasp on your hip.
“You were deliberately trying to make me fuck that up!”
You turn your head to peer at him and his mouth falls open, brows furrowed.
“What?” he says.
“You heard me.”
When you reach the floor just before the top, everyone else exits the elevator and the doors close, leaving you both pressed together in the corner.
It starts to move again, and you jerk backward, falling against him as he leans into the wall.
His sudden growl startles you and then he slams his hand into the stop button on the control panel.
His body cages you against the wall and his breathing is harsh.
“I would never want you to fuck anything up,” he exhales. “It’s impossible for me to think about anything but you…how good you taste, and I haven’t even gotten my mouth on you.”
You hide your surprise at his confession.
“Yet.” He adds in a promised whisper.
“This is my career at stake Mr. Barnes. You’re the one with all the power here. What do you have to lose?”
“Me? All the power?” He laughs dryly. “You’re the one who does this to me…the only one.”
You feel him throb against your stomach and you can see the truth in his eyes.
“Then don’t be such a dick all the time.”
You mean the words to come out harsh but instead they’re a quiet whisper and your expression softens.
It’s all he needs before his lips crash to yours and he slides his hands down to your ass, squeezing his way to the hem of your dress.
“I had to sit there and watch you present, the whole fucking time knowing you had nothing on under here.”
His touch is delicate as he spreads your legs and slides a finger through your folds, already wet and aching.
“I was sitting there hard as a rock just thinking about bending you over that table, tasting you, fucking you.”
Your fingers close around his biceps, the soft fabric of his suit jacket bulging under the strained muscles.
“Is that what you want?” he asks as his fingers continue to tease you.
“Yes,” you answer as you grab hold of his tie and bring his lips closer.
He kisses you, never touching you where you need it most and when he pulls away, he presses the elevator button, causing it to start moving again.
He removes his fingers and reaches up to straighten his tie and when the doors open, he backs out, his voice low and deep when he says, “I need to see you in my office. Immediately.”
He turns and glides from the elevator, his long strides carrying him quickly toward his office and you can’t do anything but follow.
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@blackwidownat2814 @hiddles-rose @kmc1989 @goldylions @lizette50
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miley1442111 · 6 months ago
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saving me- s.reid
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a/n: fem reader, but as always imagine what you like :)
summary: spencer has to save you before it's too late.
pairing: spencer reid x fem bau! reader
warnings: general cm topics, sexual assault, hostage situation, drugging, the team don't know about you and spencer, injuries, reader gets injured, reader is allergic to opioids, drugs, alergic reaction, knives, guns, reader begs to be killed, spencer shoots someone. (i think that's it, tell me if i missed anything :))
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Another migraine. Another fucking migraine. 
Your life was truly a joke. 
You sat beside Emily in the car, eyes heavy with pain as you profusely rubbed them, the sunlight from the sky beside you far too bright. 
“Y/l/n? Any ideas?” Morgan asked, kicking you softly under the table.
“The unsub will probably be extremely interested in the investigation but they probably won’t bring themselves into it. We’ll end up seeking them out,” you rattled off. 
“Are you alright?” Prentiss whispered. 
“Fine,” you lied. “Just tired eyes.” 
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Spencer’s eyes were on you from the second you’d spoken about your ‘tired eyes’. He was meant to be working up a geological profile, but his focus was completely on you. ‘Tired eyes’, you’d been wearing glasses or contacts all week, you’d been drinking enough liquids, you’d been eating, he assumed you’d slept, you'd been busy most of the week and sleeping at your own apartment instead of his. 
What could cause ‘tired eyes’?
“Reid!” Seaver all but shouted in his ear. 
“Y-yeah? Yes?” He answered, eyes focusing on the map again. 
“Is Y/l/n here?” Rossi asked. 
“W-what? No. I thought she went with Hotch and Prentiss,” he hesitated. 
“She told them she was with us,” Rossi sighed. “So then where is she?”
“I-I don’t know,” Spencer admitted. “I’ll call her.”
Rossi held up your cell phone and Spencer’s stomach dropped.
“Shit,” he cursed.
“Shit is right,” Rossi nodded. 
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It had been 24 hours, you were officially a missing person. You had no idea where you were, someone must’ve drugged you. That hadn’t been a regular migraine. Your head thumped with pain as you struggled against the duct tape around your hands and feet. 
“You’re one beautiful girl, aren’t you?” You could hear the smirk in his voice, feel the way he was watching you. 
You tried to scream but the duct tape around your mouth made it difficult.
“I’m going to enjoy this,” he came closer, into the light. You could see his face. He was a white male, between the ages of 35-40, dad-build, and a sick smirk. 
You didn’t fight back, you couldn’t. You didn’t even notice the camera in the corner. You didn’t know that this was being recorded, or live-streamed directly to Penelope. Penelope, who showed it to the team. To your boyfriend. 
They were watching the worst moment of your life unfold. 
And you had no idea. 
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“Guys,” Penelope squeaked. “This j-just came through,” she showed them her laptop and looked away, tears clouding her vision. 
“Is that-” Derek started
“Y/n,” Aaron finished for him. 
“What about her? Did you find her?” Spencer asked, staring at the group from behind Penelope. “Is she ok?”
The team’s eyes were glued to the screen as Spencer stood there, demanding an answer. 
“Guys what?!” he shouted. “Someone answer me!”
“Come here,” Seaver sighed. Spencer stood beside her and watched in horror as the unsub hurt you. 
“We have to find her,” he stated. “Now.”
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“Please, please just kill me,” you begged. He’d taken the tape off a while ago. “Please kill me.”
“I’m not a necrophiliac,” he laughed in your face. “I like my girls alive.”
“Fuck you,” you sobbed. Blood, dirt, tears, and sweat coating your skin. “Fuck you!”
“I’m actively trying to fuck you,” he laughed again. You hated him. You hated this. You hated everything.  
“Just kill me,” you sobbed. “Please!”
He hit you on the head and you went out again. 
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“FBI!” Morgan’s voice rang out through the warehouse. Spencer was hot on his heels, walking ahead of him and ignoring proper protocol. “Reid!” He ran after him. 
“FBI! Put the knife down!” Spencer shouted at the unsub holding a knife to your throat. Something had gone wrong. He scanned the room quickly. 
“I-I didn’t mean to- I was just-” The unsub stepped away, dropping the knife. “She wasn’t meant to die.”
Die. Dead. You were dead.
Spencer fired his gun without a second thought. He ran over to you and checked your pulse, there but barely. 
“Hotch I need an ambulance!” He shouted. “Y/n, baby, I need you to wake up,” he begged. “Please, please, wake up, I need you Y/n. Please.” 
“Spencer-” Prentiss started but Spencer silenced her with his own words. 
“We’re dating. We have been for a year and a half, don’t you dare tell me to ‘step away’,” he sighed. 
The paramedics rushed in, starting you on an IV. 
“She’s allergic to opioids,” Spencer rattled off. “She can’t have any opioids.”
“Spencer,” Hotch sighed. “She’s had some already,” Hotch pointed to the vials in the corner of the room and the rusty needle beside them. 
Fuck. 
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“So when were you planning on telling us?” Derek sighed as they all sat in the waiting room.
“I don’t know, soon-maybe?”
“A year and a half is a long time,” Emily smiled. “Congratulations.”
Spencer nodded.
“Dr. Reid?” The nurse asked. Spencer shot up and out of his seat. 
“Yes?” 
“Ms. Y/l/n is stable but she is severely hurt. Physically and... mentally. She endured hours of sexual assault and her body and mind reflect that. I suggest someone non-threatening to see her first. Maybe a woman?”
Spencer gulped and nodded. “Emily?”
“Yeah of course,” she nodded, walking behind the nurse as he led her to your room.
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You wanted Spencer. You needed him.
Emily walked in and tears filled your eyes. “Where’s Spencer? Is he ok?”
“He’s fine, they just thought that you’d want someone non-threatening to come in and see you first-” Emily explained. 
“Can you go grab Spencer please?” you sniffled. She smiled and nodded, then left the room. 
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“Spencer?” Emily called into the hall. “She wants you.”
Spencer had never walked faster in his life. 
There you were. Bruises and scratches littering your body and face. Your beautiful face. Your beautiful smile and teary eyes.
“Come here, please,” you whispered. Spencer sat at your side, your hand in his. “Thank you.”
He chuckled sadly. “For what?”
“Saving me. All the time,” you smiled softly.
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criminal minds masterlist :)
navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, marvel, top gun, challengers, the bear, the hunger games, obx+)
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mydearesthrry · 5 months ago
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casual - h.s.
a/n: self indulgent because i will never get over the fact that half of this happened to me literally verbatim because im a loser ok bye. this is my way of coping enjoy please i got so carried away ugh the impact of a british man hahaha. i suggest casual by chappell roan or …what are we? by lizzy mcalpine
wc: im guessing 1k>
warnings: angst thats really it harry’s lowkey a cunt but its not him ok. THIS IS FRAT BOY HARRY FOR THIS ONE!!!
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y/n was startled to see her front door swing open, harry stepping into the threshold to get away from the cold air outside. “hi baby.”
“hey, h,” she replied, stepping up from her place on the couch to meet him where he was toeing off his shoes. “how was your day?”
y/n’s hands ran up his chest to his shoulders, pushing his coat off his figure and hooking it on the coatrack. “it was okay, how was yours?”
“fine, thank you,” she smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “tired, i guess.”
“that’s not good, princess, you need to get your sleep. can’t have my pretty girl all sleepy, hm?” he grinned, wrapping his arms around the girl and pressing a kiss into her temple.
“yeah, just had a lot on my mind recently, i guess.” she says through a sigh, unwrapping harry’s arms from her body, walking away from him toward the kitchen.
“like what?” harry questioned, following behind her like a puppy.
“i… nothing, it’s not important,” she considered it. she really did. but it just… she couldn’t find it in herself to ruin what they had so easily. to ruin them so easily. “don’t worry about me, really.”
harry physically recoiled as if he’d been burnt, “i want to worry about you, y/n. i want you to be okay, always.” he’d used her real name— a true indication that she’d offended him.
“i- i know, i’m sorry. i jus’ don’t wanna bother you with my stupid stuff.” she glanced up at him through her lashes, refusing to make eye contact.
“it it has to do with you, it’s not stupid. now, tell me, princess, what’s wrong?” he tried once more. he could tell that she was getting closer to telling him the truth, he just needed to coax it out of her.
“can we sit?” she asked, harry immediately nodding and grabbing her hand to lead her over.
“so, what’s on your mind?”
“i’m scared to tell you.”
harry looked confused then. “why?”
“because… if you don’t know, and i don’t know, then it doesn’t make sense for this to keep happening,” she paused. “and i don’t want to lose you.”
“wait, what are we even talking about? lose me? why would you lose m-“
“you confuse me.” that’s definitely one way to put it.
“what?” harry tilted his head, his hand still covering hers.
“i- it’s just, sometimes i really can’t tell if you want me, or if you’re just keeping me around just to keep me around. like, sometimes you treat me so platonically it confuses me, and then other times you’re rattling off how i’m the only one for you. i know we said no strings, i know, but i know you don’t really see me as a friend. there’s no way that this is just casual, harry.”
harry didn’t know what to say. staring down at their intertwined hands, he cleared his throat and bit at his lip.
“what is it, please just tell me what’s on your mind,” y/n pleaded, squeezing his hands.
“i… honestly don’t know, my love, im sorry,” he finally said, but he chose to twist the knife. “i don’t know what we are.”
oh.
oh.
“oh, um,” she whispered, sliding her legs off of harry’s knees, withdrawing her hands from his grasp to slide under her thighs. “yeah, i… i didn’t think you would.”
“i’m sorry, princess. you won’t lose me though, y’do know that, right?” he could sense her sadness like it was his own. his phone ringing distracted her from her thoughts, the name reading ‘Claire’, making a scoff leave her lips.
“go handle business, i’ll be upstairs.” y/n said coolly, standing from the couch once more. as she began her trek to the stairs, harry grabbed her wrist.
“don’t be like that.” he grumbled, pressing the pressure point between her thumb and pointer finger.
“be like what? i’m gonna go take a nap, didn’t you just tell me to get some rest?” she smiled, but he could see the hurt in her eyes.
not exclusive, more than friends, less than lovers. how could she be so naive?
“are you sure?”
“your phone’s still ringing.”
“that’s unimportant. are you okay?”
“peachy.”
he knew she was lying. he just didn’t know what she wanted to hear.
“okay, pretty girl, dream of me, yeah?”
“mhm. see you later, lock the door if you leave.”
“i will, i’m sorry.”
as she walked away, she could hear his voice fill the living room.
“hey angel, i’ll be there in 20.”
more than friends, less than lovers.
part 2
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kenzlie · 4 months ago
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just one more? c.s
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𝗒𝗈𝗎 were a 𝖻𝗋𝖺𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖻𝗈𝗒𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽 𝖼𝗁𝗋𝗂𝗌, 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝖾𝗑𝗉𝖾𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝖺𝗄𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗄𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝗈𝖿 𝖺 𝗍𝗎𝗋𝗇..
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: SMUTT, oral (male receiving), degrade kink, praise kink, inappropriate language, p n v, unprotected sex, hair pulling, slapping, probably more idk i’m ℱ𝓇ℯ𝒶𝓀𝓎..
A/N: This is like my 1st post on tumblr, btw this is short bc the first time i wrote it, it got deleted, anyways if you do not like what i write and say, you can leave!! (it’s free) anyways enjoy 😈.
Orange = chris speaking, pink = fem speaking
i was sitting on the couch watching a movie, i was waiting for my boyfriend chris to get back from dropping matt and nick off at a sleepover
me and chris have a good relationship we understand each other very well and get along good, well sometimes just not always, anytime we have sex it’s gentle sex and always protected
the movie ended a few minutes ago and i’m scrolling on my phone, i hear the front door knob rattle before being opened “i’m back baby” “hi chris” i say while putting me phone away and smiling at him as he sets his stuff down and plops next to me on the couch “sorry i took so long, matt and nick got hungry so we stopped to get them food” “don’t be sorry baby, wanna make some brownies?” “yeah sure”
we’re standing in the kitchen mixing the batter, well i was, chris was just standing and watching “are you gonna help or just stand there?” i say with a bit of a attitude “you can do it” “no come help chris” i say annoyed, he ignores me “oh so now you can’t hear?” “i can hear perfect but you wanted to make them” “i thought you’d be a good boyfriend and help, i mean come on it’s common sense chris.” “i’m okay you got it” i groan at his annoying comment
i was pouring the batter into the pan making sure it was just perfect and right “let me lick the spoon” chris says trying to grab it from my hand, i pull my hand back “no, you should’ve helped” i say licking the spoon while keeping eye contact, teasing him by the minute
i had put the brownies in the oven to cook about 15 minutes ago, they’d be done it 5 to 10 minutes, me and chris were sitting on the couch looking at our phones, chris wasn’t speaking to me over the spoon thing, typical childish chris
“your a brat do you know that?” he says breaking the silence “excuse me?” i say knowing i have but chris never minded it “you heard me, you’ve been a fucking brat.” “so? your point is?” “my point is you should your attitude before i fix it for you.” “ok bud..” i knew then i had got under his skin, he HATED when i called him bud,buddy,bro or any sort of name like that, he gives me a death stare and was about to say something before the oven timer went off, i get up walking over to the kitchen,i turn off the oven before bending down with my oven mits, grabbing the pan and placing it on the counter, i turn around about to go grab a knife to cut the brownies, but instead i turn around to chris death staring me "can i help you chris?" i ask, without a word chris picks me up putting me on the edge of the counter before smashing his lips against mine "chris.." i say muffled "i warned you, did you listen? no."
all of a sudden he’s carrying me up the stairs to the bedroom, chris has never been like this with me he’s always gentle and soft, he tosses me on the bed “you wanna act like a brat? i’ll fuck you like one.” he stands in front of me unbuttoning his jeans “come here slut” he says as he pulls his boxers down, his long hard length slapping against his lower stomach, i crawl over to him as he stands at the end of the bed “chris i’m not giving you head after you didn’t even try helping me in the kitchen” he pulls my face up to look at him “do you really think i care? now open.” he says slapping my cheek slighty, i open my mouth slightly as he shoves himself in without warning “mph!” i say muffled, i suck slowly since that’s usually how we always go, slow and gentle, “faster whore..” he breathes out grabbing my hair and fucking my mouth, i stroke what i can’t fit, “fuck..” he moans, almost whimpering, i speed up my pace with both my hands and mouth, all of a sudden he shoots warm white ropes to the back of my throat, i swallowed his load as i breathe out
before i can even speak im being pushed onto my back, chris wastes to time pulling off my shirt and pants, leaving me only in my underwear and bra, my underwear was soaked, i looked away embarrassed, chris grabs my face to look at him “how fucking pathetic..” he slips my underwear off my body before rubbing his tip around my folds “please don’t tease..” i beg letting out a whine that was quickly replaced with a gasp that was caused from chris shoving himself inside me, his thrust were fast and rough “c-chris!” i moan as i throw my head back, chris’s hand snakes behind my head grabbing a fist full of hair, pulling on it to make me look at him, his free hand was stabbing into my hip as he fucked me without mercy “g-gonna cum baby..” i warn “c’mon baby cum for me..” my orgasm hits me hard, i moan out grabbing onto whatever i can, chris doesn’t stop, “can’t take it!” i whine “c’mon ma, just one more?”, chris thrusts into me harshly a few more times before i cum again, i could tell he was close, clearly from his now sloppy thrusts “fuck fuck fuck..” he whispers before pulling out and spilling all over my stomach
after chris cleaned me up and helped me change, he simply threw on some plaid pants and a white tank top, he crawled in bed next to me cuddling up behind me “i love you baby..” he whispers into my ear “i love you too chris..” i whisper back.
A/N: this is my first smut in a while so ntm, anywho i hope you enjoyed this!!
@chrissslut
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msgexymunson · 1 year ago
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Life Hack
Description: Maybe Eddie will finally get the message that you do like him when you show him a little bra life hack. 
A/N: what can I say, this was rattling in my head when I showed my partner how to undo a bra one handed and I couldn't help but think of Eddie (because he lives in my brain now and refuses to leave.) If you enjoy it please comment and reblog my sweethearts!
Warnings: NSFW, minor DNI (here there be nipples) fem slightly dom reader, Eddie is an idiot, boob play, dry humping
Masterlist 
1.5k words
You walk into Eddie's room with freshly brushed teeth, wearing a stolen t-shirt of his, the Iron Maiden one with the bleach stains that has become your favourite, and some tiny sleep shorts. Eddie's already sprawled on the bed in a pair of pyjama pants, one arm slung under his head, the other holding half a joint over the full ashtray. 
Fuck, he isn't making this easy. 
His slim toned physique, his tattoos, his happy trail. It's all making your mouth water with anticipation for something that doesn't seem possible. Try as you might to entice him, Eddie's not getting the message. You've been dying for Eddie to take the leap, to move your relationship out of the friendship zone but either he doesn't like you that way or he really is an idiot. 
One minute he's flirting, the next he's punching you on the arm and play fighting with you like you're his kid sister or something. It really makes you wonder how he lost his virginity in the first place.
"You want some of this?" 
"Huh?" You ask just a little too loudly. 
"This," he says, waving the joint at you and smirking.  
"Oh, sure, gimme- oh goddamn!" As you reach out you feel a twang and a pain digging into your side. 
"What the hell just happened?" Eddie asks, looking confused. 
"It's nothing Eds, just my bra rebelling" you laugh, wriggling uncomfortably. 
"You can, erm, take it off… you know, if it makes you more comfortable." He's blushing, you swear you see his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. Maybe he does like you? The thought places your heart firmly in your throat.
Reaching behind you, you expertly flick your bra open and start manoeuvring the shirt sleeves so you can take it off. Eddie's jaw may as well be on the floor, eyes bugging out like a cartoon. 
"It's undone? Just like that?" 
You laugh at the face he's pulling, until you have a light bulb moment. 
"Do you want me to teach you?" 
"What?" If Eddie's eyes could get wider, they somehow do, taking over his face like an anime character. 
"I could teach you how to do it, if you want. It's like a life hack, you know? I really don't mind." 
Eddie looks in turmoil for a minute. Maybe you crossed a line. Until you hear his response. 
"Oh, erm… OK?" 
Reaching around to clip your bra back in place, you wriggle everything in position. 
"Give me some of that first" you say, wiggling your fingers at him. He wordlessly passes the joint to you and you take a deep drag, blowing smoke upwards. It helps to calm your nerves a little. Taking another, blowing smoke, and passing it back to him, he takes it to finish it off, stubbing it out in the ashtray. He looks panicked, moving the ashtray off of the bed, clearing the bed of debris, like this was going to be some complicated mission. 
Right, it's now or never. Maybe he'll finally get the fucking hint. 
Taking a deep breath, you grab the hem of your shirt and pull it over your head. The bra is nothing special really, just a black cotton one, tiny bow situated between your breasts. 
Eddie's mouth opens and closes at the sight, gaping like a moron at your exposed cleavage. Moving over to the bed, you straddle him, backwards. 
"Right, so if you look, it's real easy." You move one hand behind your back, pushing your thumb into the hook part, and flick the bra undone with your index finger. You're not sure if you hear a gasp or if you're just imagining it.
"See? Easy." You clip it back into position and risk a glance over your shoulder. Eddie's face is glowing scarlet. It's the only sign he's giving you, so you're willing to take it as a good one. 
"Wanna try?" 
"Yeah-" his voice starts, impossibly high pitched, until he coughs and continues, much lower, "-Sure thing." 
You feel one hand at your hip, on your exposed skin. The touch you've been craving. It shoots to your core unexpectedly, making you so grateful Eddie can't see your face right now. The other hand starts shakily fumbling with the catch until he gets it. 
"See? Simple. OK," you do it back up, and swivel around, your heat pressed against him. The feel of him underneath you has your head reeling, imagining all sorts of depraved situations, but you reign it in. 
"You wanna try from this way?" 
"Uh huh." He's responding, but his eyes are glued to your chest. 
"Eddie…?" 
Snapping his head up, he almost looks guilty. 
"Yeah, sure." 
"So, sit up a bit, reach around." You beckon him with your fingers so he pulls himself upright, face suddenly so close to yours you feel his breath on your cheek. 
"So… thumb and forefinger, yeah?" 
Eddie's eyes dart to your lips and back up. 
"Yeah." He reaches, pulling you close for a minute, forcing air out of your lungs. Maybe this was a bad idea. It's getting difficult to breathe. Trying to calm yourself, you settle for staring at Eddie's ear. 
He's fumbling, but after a while he gets it. You feel the sudden free feeling. He looks up at you with his eyes all lit up like a dog that just learned a new trick. 
"I did it!" 
"Sure did. You wanna practise again?"
"Yeah sure." 
Once again, you put it back in position. This time, Eddie barely fumbles and flicks it off in one fluid motion. 
"See? Easy! Well done!" Genuinely pleased that you actually taught the boy something, you look him in the eyes for the first time since you decided to make this risky move. 
His usually beautiful amber brown eyes are dark, dipped in desire. He's breathing heavy, large palms coming to rest on your waist. But he's still not making a move. 
Fuck it. 
"You wanna see them?" You ask, praying you're reading him right. 
"...did you just say… what I think you just did?" 
You slowly slip the straps down your arms and peel the bra off, dropping it to the side. Your nipples, happy to be finally free, perk up at the air around them. Goosebumps run over your exposed flesh. 
"Holyfuckingshit!"
It comes out in one breath. Eddie's gawking gaze darts between your naked breasts; awe, shock and panic are fighting for dominance in his eyes. 
"Eddie." 
No response. 
"Eddie!" 
"Huh?" 
You cradle his jaw with one hand and his eyes finally look at you. Unable to wait for a second longer, you press your lips against his. 
It's like a switch is finally flipped in Eddie's brain. He pushes his tongue in your mouth immediately, swiping at yours with such urgency it shocks you. His hand is pushing into the small of your back, guiding you to grind over the hard bulge in his pants. 
The other hand finds your breast, squeezing at it. His thumb runs over your nibble, flicking at the hardened nub, sending tingles through your nerves and up your spine.  
When he breaks from your kiss and starts mouthing at your neck, you tell him finally, words spilling from slick, kiss bitten lips. 
"I was wondering when you'd get the fucking message Eddie." 
You run your fingernails through his hair making him groan into your neck.
"The hell," he breathes, mouth dragging down to your chest, "didn't think you, you liked me like that." 
"You're a fucking idiot Eds, been trying to flirt with you for weeks- oh God!" 
His tongue starts running around your nipple, shocking you out of your reprimand. Moans replace words as he sucks at your nipple, making you rub against him faster. Your clit is begging for more attention and Eddie's happy to oblige, forcing you against him, hard. 
The friction is building up; body buzzing with desire all the way to the tips of your toes. Eddie's desperately tonguing at your nipple, breath whistling through his nose hotly as he's whining in his throat. 
"Eddie, fuck, I'm gonna come!" You're gripping his biceps urgently, rocking against him with all the power you have. Your warning just pushes him further, sucking at your skin and moaning with you. 
Your release flows from you in an intense flash of white light as your fingernails dig into Eddie, holding on for all your worth, chest heaving with heavy pants. 
Eddie groans just as loudly as you as your hips finally stutter to a halt. He looks like he's had a religious experience, staring at you with hearts in his eyes. 
"Eds, did you just cum-" 
"Yup," he says, popping the P loudly, looking almost proud. His grin is reaching almost from ear to ear. This version of Eddie, the idiot, the one you fell for, is in front of you again. 
"So, you do like me then?" 
"Sweetheart, I think you're incredible, I just didn't think you saw me like that." He says, hands rubbing up and down your sides. 
"You're really stupid Eddie." 
"You're probably right" He smiles, eyes glancing back down to your chest. 
"So, do I get to see the rest?" 
No real tag list, just adding some likely people ;)
@lunatictardis @lightvixxen @roanniom @eddiemunsons-missingnipple @eddiesprincess86 @munson-blurbs @wroteclassicaly @loveshotzz
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eddiegettingshot · 30 days ago
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May I ask you to play in a (sad) sandbox with me for a moment? (This is long forgive me but my Eddie feelings spilleth over)
These 3 lines have rattled around in my head for years, bouncing off each other like they belong together, in conversation with each other. And I think they're finally coming into focus:
...prove to me something is real and I’ll believe it. ...maybe she thought she was missing out on a life she could have had. if she'd been born someone else or made different choices? ever wonder about that? (Not really...) 
...of the things that make you sad, am I one of them?
...being his dad has been the single greatest joy of my life. And that little boy has taught me more about being a man than war ever did.
We know that one of, if not THE, fundamental laws of Eddie Diaz's universe is how much he genuinely loves being a father and his devotion to Christopher. How he has actively, consciously worked to be the parent he didn't have. And he does it joyfully!
And.
Eddie was parentified by age 10. He became a parent at 19. And then he went to war. Far too young, and setting his life on a trajectory, no turning back. I think Eddie has an existential inner conflict about his sense of self, who he is, his happiness. There's part of him that does wonder about "the life he could have had, if he...made different choices." But, if he let's himself consider what could have been, he believes it would require him to want a life where Christopher was never born. Which is anathema to him! Truly, unequivocally! So he simply does not let himself wonder or examine or question. 
It's like he's set up in his own mind this dichotomy: he can only ever choose Christopher or himself. Which is no choice at all. Because he will always have Christopher. Eddie's anguished face when Chris said "of the things that make you sad, am I one of them?" has always felt way more complex than Eddie would let us believe. 
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Again, I'm not saying that the narrative believes this. I think Eddie believes this. And that's the journey he's on, the reckoning that's coming. The "making peace with his demons and finding self love." Because he doesn't have to choose!!! In fact, Christopher needs Eddie to choose himself! Now, the father Christopher needs is one who loves his full self, who is able to give Chris his full emotional truth — the joy and the pain and the grief (and the queerness) all of it. (The child's birthday party decorations, Eddie clinging to a time when he could be the father Christopher needed without this reckoning.) Christopher has always been Eddie's inspiration and motivation for growth and healing. And he is once again.
I know most people don't get Eddie and aren't able to engage with the complexities. But we can! And this is such a tender topic I tread carefully. But it's where Eddie and Chris are taking us, so let's talk about it?
ok i have been turning this over and over in my head for days (sorry) … But yes. you are so right. i think this is the exact thing that’s difficult to balance with eddie because his parentification is so tied up with his actual parenthood (and marriage… and everything else) that untangling all of that runs the risk of. like. pulling up things he not only isn’t supposed to feel and doesn’t WANT to feel, selfish stuff like desire and wanting to be a kid. like he genuinely doesn’t think he can have any of this… eddieeeee 😭😭😭
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This may be my grief (but it's you who's made a mess of it)
love is not designed for the cynical - series masterlist here
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pairing: jason todd x reader (gender neutral)
length: 1.7k
genre: hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending
warnings: reader has a panic attack, there's a lot of blood but it's the clean-up part, Jason is riddled with self-hatred and guilt but he's making progress
a/n: ok enjoy kiss kiss <3
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Your heart lurches as you stare at the television, your hands clutching the couch cushions on either side of you as you listen to the presenter on the news station that you'd idly turned on for background noise. He's talking about a current fight, some scuffle between some vigilantes and Two-Face downtown. He mentions Redhood - mentions that he was seen going down during the fight and wasn't seen getting back up again.
Suddenly, the walls of your apartment feel small - too small, closing in on you as the air leaves your lungs in a punched-out gasp. He's not getting up. He's not getting up and he's gone again. You stand abruptly, knocking the TV remote off your lap and letting it clatter to the floor as you begin to pace back and forth in front of your couch, trying desperately to keep listening to the news anchor and what he's saying about the current situation.
Maybe he's wrong, you think desperately. Maybe he's alright and no one really knows what they're seeing. Maybe he's… dead. Maybe he's dead again. Maybe you'll never ever see him again. Maybe you'll have to bury him again.
You drop into a sitting position on the floor ungracefully, leaning against the couch as you reach blindly for the remote, suddenly needing desperately for the news anchor to stop updating you on the situation. You fumble with it once you have it, your hands cold and numb as you turn the television off.
The silence, you realize immediately, is worse
The thought of having to mourn him a second time, you realize, might be more than you can handle.
The city moves outside, cars honking and pedestrians shouting - the normal turmoil of Gotham. You fit right in, you suppose, amongst the panic and the pain and the death that permeates this city. You almost, almost wish you'd left all those years ago when Jason became Robin - when you told him it was a choice that would kill him and you threatened to walk out.
And now, in the dull silence of your apartment, your gaze level with your coffee table that has two empty mugs, you wish that you really had left all those years ago… and you wish that you had never come back.
The thought punches out whatever air is left in your lungs as guilt, cold and heavy and choking, settles in your gut. You bring your hands to your face, digging the heels of your palms into your closed eyes as you try to get a hold of your rattling breathing. You had, at times, considered what your life would be like if you'd never met Jason, or if you moved on and gotten over him after his death - his first death. The thought makes nausea roll through your stomach. Of course, you'd thought about it. But you'd always come to the same conclusion - you were lucky to have met him and to have known him as you did. Even if it meant carrying his ghost with you for the rest of your life, you were blessed to have been loved by him.
Now, though, it doesn't feel like a blessing. Now, it feels like a rotten, undead curse, something dragged up from some unholy pit to pull him away from you again, and again, and again. There is nothing lucky in this life and there is nothing lucky in this love.
A clattering on your balcony rips you from your spiralling thought as your head snaps around to see Redhood heave himself up over the railing, stumbling with fatigue and obvious injury. You lurch to your feet, desperate to get to him, desperate to know he's alive, desperate to stop him from seeing you on the floor of your home, grief-stricken and terrified because of him. 
No, you think. He doesn't need to know about that. And fortunately, he's dazed enough from whatever god-awful fight he was in that he doesn't seem to really notice anything beyond the way you rip the door open and pull him inside, your hands flitting over his armour to gauge his injuries. Not at first, anyway. He lets you sit him on the couch, lets you shush his worries about staining the fabric with his blood. He doesn't consider the fact that your soul is already stained from him. Not yet, at least. 
It's not until his armour is off, sitting in the bathtub and dripping crimson blood onto the white porcelain. It's not until you've checked him over, the large gash along his side cleaned and the blood flow staunched. It's when you begin stitching him up, your hands trembling ever so slightly in a way that sends concern shooting up his spine. It's not concern for himself - he's had you do this countless times, and he's done it to himself with much less finesse even more times. But something wrong - something must be wrong for you to be unsteady, for your shoulders to be tense and your eyes to avoid his. The pain from his side is nearly blinding, but there's nothing that sobers him and centres him as resolutely as you on your knees in front of him and afraid. 
"Baby?" his voice is quiet, the breath leaving his lips in a tired sort of sigh that he can't help.
"Don't distract me," is your only response.
"Talk to me," he pushes in that gentle, guiding way of his.
But you say nothing. The silence drips between the two of you as you tie the last stitch, cutting the thread and rubbing your hands with a towel. Jason makes a mental note to buy you new ones as he watches the white fabric blooming red as you try to scrub the blood off your hands. 
But your skin doesn't come clean. There are places where the blood - his blood has dried around your fingers and you rub the towel on your palms until he reaches out, worried. Then, and only then, does it hit Jason, and he's not sure if it's blood loss or fear and guilt that makes him feel lightheaded.
It's his blood on your hands. And they're not coming clean.
He takes the towel from you gently, tossing it onto the other end of the couch before he grips your hands in his own. He's not sure who's trembling more between the two of you. He's not sure who's more blood-soaked. 
"I saw it on the news," you say quietly as you rub your thumb over the knuckles of Jason's hand. "They said - they said you were dead." Your breath hitches. Jason huffs, tightening his hold on your hands.
"Those reporters don't know what the fuck they're talking about most of the time - you know that, baby. They always get it wrong." He soothes, his voice low as he looks down at you. He's still sitting on the couch while you kneel before him, like an altar of violence that you pray to.
"I know, Jason. I just -" You take a deep, shuttering breath.
"What, baby?"
"I thought I'd lost you… again. I just - I couldn't take it. I couldn't bear it." You laugh, then - a humourless, hysterical sort of thing. "All this time you've spent trying to protect me and you're the thing that ended up hurting me the most and… no, I - Jason, I didn't mean that. I'm sorry, I didn't mean that, I was just scared."
But Jason's already lurched away from you, letting go of your hands as if you've burned him and pulling back in a way that stretches his stitches and makes him wince. You, on the floor in front of him, made the infamous Redhood flinch, made him recoil in fear and self-hatred and pain.
"I didn't mean that, Jason," you say again, a firmness in your voice as you surge up onto your knees. Your hands aren't trembling now, he notices distantly, as you lean forward to take his face in your palms and press your forehead against his.
"I hurt you," he says numbly.
"No," you respond instantly. "Life hurt me… life hurt us both. That's not your fault. It's never been your fault."
Jason sighs wearily, letting his head fall forward so that his forehead is resting on your shoulder as his eyes slip closed. There's a dull, throbbing pain in his head and his side aches and he's choking on too much hatred to stop you when you press kisses to his palms and his knuckles and the side of his head that you can reach. 
There is too much weariness in him to stop you from loving him.
"Let's… go to bed," you say quietly, feeling the way he slumps against you as the fatigue begins to take its toll on him. "Come on," you coax. He lets you stand, takes your outstretched hand willingly as you guide him to bed. He lets himself sit on the edge of the mattress heavily, slouched over himself as you sit in front of him, a damp towel in your hands. 
Jason thinks of the irony of it all as he watches you take his hands in yours, wiping the blood from them that you left on him. Granted, it's still his blood, but you're the one who made a mess of it. He thinks of that as you finish cleaning him up, listens to the sounds of you scrubbing your own hands in the bathroom sink as he falls sideways into bed, haphazardly tugging the covers up around him.
When you finally slip into bed next to him, reaching out so that you can cling to him like a lifeline, he wonders if maybe the blood on his hands isn't such a big deal, after all. Maybe it's the blood loss talking, maybe it's the post-fight dizziness muddling his judgement. Or maybe there is something to be said for the two of you cleaning the blood off each other's hands… again and again and again.
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milswrites · 8 months ago
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The embers that remain
~ Eris Vanserra X Reader
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Summary: Eris tells you some unwanted news.
Warnings: angst, angst and more angst.
Notes: Gotta keep these break up fics flowing.
It started with the wavering touches. The way Eris’s usually firm hands now hesitantly hovered over your body, afraid to close the space between you.
Then it was the way he couldn’t quite look you in the eyes. His amber eyes always opting to stare elsewhere whenever he was in your presence.
The final straw was the stale turn your conversations had taken. The fact that no matter how hard you tried to pull answers from the male he remained as silent as the grave.
But what bothered you the most was the guilt ridden expression which failed to leave his face. His permanently furrowed brows and drooping frown marring his once handsome features.
For a while you allowed him to get away with it, accepting the new sullen persona of which he had adopted. Though once the dark bags had begun to grow under his tired eyes and his cheekbones had sunken into his pale skin, you decided that enough was enough.
That whatever burden Eris had opted to try and carry on his own needed to be shared. There was nothing you wouldn’t do for the Autumn Prince and if needing to share the weight of his problems would enable him to feel better, then you would hold up entire mountains for the male you loved so dearly.
It took numerous attempts for you to stir him from his turbulent thoughts. Your concerned voice and comforting hand coaxing him from his fortified mind. Gently squeezing his knee until the clouds which fogged his whiskey eyes had dissipated, his smoky orbs still failing to meet your own even as they cleared.
“Please my love,” you hummed softly, kneeling before where he was sat, hands clasped on both his thighs, as you looked up at the dejected male, “Share your worries with me. You needn’t battle them alone Eris, not when you have me.”
Your comforting words drew his pained amber eyes to finally meet your warming ones. His brows knitting together in distress, Eris slowly shook his head at you, the Prince tried to deny your gracious offer of help.
Trying to encourage the male to open up you pressed on, “My love there is nothing you could say or do that would ever change my opinion of you. You’re hurting Eris, let me help you.”
You didn’t miss the flash of anger which briefly crossed his harrowed face, the twitching of his nose and slight lift of his lips into a snarl. But you felt no fear, somehow knowing the fury wasn’t directed at you.
“I’m here to listen Eris,” you urged him to speak, begging eyes wide as they searched across his gaunt face, “I could never judge you.”
“But you will!” he finally seethed, teeth slightly bared as his chest rattled which each breath he took. “You will judge me” he cried, his voice breaking as the words fell from his trembling lips.
“No Eris. . . I’d never. Whatever it is it’ll be ok, we can figure it out together” you reasoned giving his thigh another reassuring squeeze from where you were sat on the floor.
“No we won’t” he denied, head still shaking lowly, that cursed expression of grief never faltering from his troubled face.
It was a tense minute of silence before either of you spoke again, but then the source of Eris’s worries tumbled from his lips, “I am to be wed to a woman from one of the outlying cities before the next harvest.”
His words were a knife to the heart. Whilst there had always been the hovering prospect that Eris would have to do his duty to his court and marry another, the two of you had been so caught up in the blazing inferno of your love to ever allow the doubts of the possible reality to cross your minds.
“How long have you known this?” You ask in shock, trying your best to recall when Eris’s sudden change in attitude had began.
The Autumn Prince blanched at your question, clearly having known the answer for longer than he has let on.
“How long Eris?” You repeated solemnly, slipping your hands from where they were resting on his legs to instead consciously knit them together on your lap.
“Two. . .three months?” He shamefully mumbled, a gasp catching in your throat at the revelation of just how long he had kept this secret, “I wanted to wait to tell you. I hoped I didn’t have to at all, that I’d find a way out of it. That it’d never come to this.”
“So you thought you’d just hide it from me for three months? When were you going to tell me you were to be wed Eris, when you were halfway down the aisle?”
“I wanted to tell you” he defended weakly, drawing in another long, shaky breath, “But telling you makes it real and that reality I just couldn’t bear facing.”
“But here we are” you stated, eyes lining with watery tears.
“Here we are” Eris sighed in confirmation, quivering hand reaching out to clasp onto your own. The burning heat from his palm a painful reminder of the comforting heat he had provided you these long years you had spent together.
“So this is it?” You croaked, voice already hoarse from the flood of emotion that had overcome your senses.
“It doesn’t have to be,” he reasoned stubbornly, “we can work something out, see each other still. I can buy a house for you where we can meet.”
You turned your face from the male in disappointment, “I won’t be your dirty secret Eris. I can’t be. Your wife-” your voice cracked at the title, “your wife deserves you in your entirety. Deserves the chance to love you as deeply as I have been able to.”
Flames raged in Eris’s eyes at your refusal to fight, at the dismissive way you had already written of your relationship as a lost cause.
“I won’t love her, never. She’s not you, she never will be. She may be my wife but she’ll never have my heart, that will be yours forever” Eris cried, the heat he was emitting in his burning rage was enough to boil the crystalline tears which fell down his cheeks.
“I’ve always thought you’d make the most wonderful husband Eris,” you weeped opting not to tell him that you had always assumed you would be his bride, “I know you’ll treat her right. That you’d be a good husband. A good father.”
“But it’s not with you!” He sobbed, cursing the gods for the cruel fate he was handed. Losing his faith in the Mother for her misguided choices.
“I’ll always be grateful for the time we were allowed to share my love” you consoled, bringing your free hand to brush back the red locks which had fallen in front of his eyes, “we’ve had such wonderful adventures and I’ll treasure them forever. But. . .we’ve always known your duties would have to come first in the end. We both just chose to become blind to it.”
“We’ve still got time” he begged, leaning his head into your soothing palm, “there’s two months till harvest yet.”
“No my love” you answered, words cutting deeply into Eris’s heart, “That’s not fair. It’s already hard enough as it is. Take the time to move on from me, to ready yourself for another.”
“I’ll never move on, not completely” he promised, warm lips coming to meet your tender palm.
“You’re so strong my love. You will find happiness again” you assured him, confident eyes meeting his own broken gaze.
Eris wasn’t sure how even in the face of adversity you were able to tell the male exactly what he needed to hear. But he was certain that no other woman would ever hold a candle to the force of nature that was you. And as the flickering flame in his eyes dulled into a pitiful ember, Eris swore that he would never allow himself to forget you. That despite your orders to move on, his heart would belong to you in its entirety until the day his fire extinguished.
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morgana-larkin · 7 months ago
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Hello, Idk if u're still taking prompts bc it's seems like you're working on a lot of it, but here's a rather, crazy prompt I have in mind (again) afkajdksjsj.
There's a teacher at Abbott for over a year who's somewhat a little private about her life. Particularly her love life which the Abbott staff seemed to have taken an interest of specially Melissa, who's being defensive when she's called out for being too nosey about the teacher, saying she barely knows a thing about her and it's suspicious that maybe she's actually a cop or secret agent lol. Talks of where's the next venue of game night been going around and the group decided [without the teacher even knowing] that the game night would be held at her rather, fancy house to the surprise of the staff, thinking they would see a glimpse of her priv life and finally meet her partner which is apparently non-existent and later on revealed she never had any relationship in the years of her existence, which also, surprised the group yet Melissa unintentionally let a rather loud sigh of relief and the staff and the teacher gave her a questioning look which she became defensive,again, and a stammering flustered mess under the teacher's gaze.
This was so fun to write. I think I steered a little off a bit but still stuck to what you wanted…(hopefully). I tried to make it light, fun and as cute as possible. As always not edited at all and I hope you like it!
On another note: I know I spelled Chessy’s name wrong, my phone autocorrected me and didn’t notice until I posted it. I thought no one would notice until someone messaged me anonymously about it. So I went back and corrected it. I got one more Melissa prompt and two Chessy ones, and I have started on chapter 8 of ‘Worth It’.
The Game of Love
Warnings: reader has a nightmare(small part near the end), I think that’s all…
Words: 3.3k
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You walked into the break room after bringing your students to the cafeteria and headed straight for the coffee machine. You’re exhausted after the morning with your kindergarteners.
“Dear, you don’t look good. Rough morning?” Barb asks you and you chuckle.
“Ya I guess you could say that. I don’t know how you do it Barb. Keep them in line all the time, mine were acting like they had sugar all morning.” You tell her with a huff.
“You’re still quite new dear. I’ve been doing this for over 20 years. You just became a teacher 5 years ago and it’s your second year here.” She says calmly, and always the voice of reason.
“I suppose.” You tell her. You grab your coffee and your lunch from the fridge and then go to sit on the couch.
“Y/n, why don’t you sit with us today?” Janine pipes up and you look at her. You know that she wants to ask questions about your life to get to know you since you don’t tell them much. All you’ve mentioned is that you’ve been living in Philly since you were born, your parents are both lawyers, you have a girlfriend, and you got your teaching certificate 5 years ago. In reality you don’t actually have a girlfriend, you just tell people that since you’ve had many friends try to set you up with a woman and it never goes well.
“Um, ok I guess I could today.” You tell her and head over to sit with the trio. You want to open up a bit more to them. With both of your parents being lawyers, you learned to keep a lot to yourself.
“So how have you been? How’s Amelia?” Janine asks as soon as you sat down. Amelia is the name of your made up girlfriend and said you’ve been with her for 2 years.
“I’ve been good, Amelia as well.” You tell her. “How have you guys been?” You ask her and Janine and Jacob both go and rattle on about their day. While looking at Janine talk, you catch Melissa giving you a look. When Janine stops talking, that’s when Melissa chimes in.
“Hey kid, you never say anything about yourself, why’s that?” Melissa questions you.
“I just don’t talk about myself much, that’s all.” You respond back.
“Why? Why are you so secretive?” She pushes.
“I’m not secretive, there’s just nothing interesting about me.” You tell her and she rolls her eyes at you. “Why are you being nosy?” You ask her and she lefts out a huff.
“I’m not being nosy. It’s just, tell us something, like what do you and your girlfriend do on the weekend or something.” She tells you and you quirk an eyebrow at her. “If you don’t say anything, how do we know you’re not a cop or a secret agent or something like that.” She says to defend herself.
“Well I’m not either one, if you want I can show you my certificate and you can see it’s not forged. But you know both my parents are lawyers so I guess I learned to keep stuff to myself.” You say with a shrug.
“Alright.” She says.
“But to answer your question, Amelia and I don’t do much on the weekends. We’re more home bodies.” You tell her and she smiles at you and you blush a bit.
You excuse yourself early, stating you have to get your classroom ready for crafts, and the trio is talking about where game night is gonna be tomorrow night and Ava comes in to get a coffee.
“Why don’t we have it at y/n’s place?” Melissa says and they look at her.
“Wait, are you coming to game night? Cause you didn’t say either way.” Janine asks her and she shrugs.
“I never know what my plans are on Saturday nights.” She says.
“Did you just voluntold y/n’s place?” Jacob asks and Melissa smirks.
“Yep. We can surprise her.” Melissa says slyly.
“We have no idea where she lives.” Janine says.
“I do!” Ava pipes up and everyone looks at her. “What? It was on her application.” Ava says and pours a bunch of sugar in her coffee. Ava says your address and they all have their mouth open in shock.
“She lives there? That’s a fancy neighbourhood! How does she afford that?” Janine gasps.
“I bet her parents bought it for her.” Melissa says and crosses her arms.
“That would explain it.” Gregory says. “We can’t just show up at her place unexpectedly. We don’t even know if she’ll be home or let us in.” He adds.
“She just said she doesn’t go out on the weekends. And she might let us in, and if she does then we can learn more about her. You can tell a lot about a person from seeing their house. Why do you think I never let youse people over to mine?” Melissa says and they all nod in agreement.
“I’m sure she’ll let us in if Melissa was there.” Barb says with a knowing smile. Melissa whips her head around to face Barb
“What’s that supposed to mean?” She questions, confused.
“Barb you’re coming too?” Jacob asks. And Barb nods.
“My Saturday night is free.” She says, Jacob and Janine grinning. Both of them have never showed up to game night before, so the fact that they are now is exciting to the younger teachers.
“OMG, I don’t even know what game I should bring over now. Ava are you coming?” Janine says with a smile.
“Of course not, unlike you nerds, I actually have plans on Saturday night.” Ava says and walks out.
“So there’ll be 6 of us then.” Janine says.
“Oh we can always have a game that requires teams since it’s an even number.” Jacob states.
“Do you guys have a preference for a game?” Janine asks Melissa and Barb.
“A family friendly game. I don’t want to play one of those games with a bunch of sex questions and sex jokes.” Barb says.
“But those are the best ones.” Melissa says. “The less PG the better.”
“Oh how about the game of life?” Janine says. “But we can play as teams. So like you still have your own car and career, but combine income and losses.” They all agree on that and then they all leave to get their students to finish the day.
You are outside of your classroom helping your kindergarteners zip up sweaters and tie shoelaces. One of your students gives you a hug goodbye and you hug them back and tell them to have a good weekend. Unknown to you, Melissa is watching you from her door frame with a smile and soft eyes. Her class is across the hall and one classroom over so it’s pretty close and she has a perfect view to watch without getting caught. Or so she thought at least, she did get caught but not by you, but by everyone else.
The next day, you’re on your couch and wondering what to watch when the doorbell rings. You get to your door and open it and see Janine, Jacob, Gregory and Barb there there with a smile.
“Hello???” You ask them.
“Hi! We thought it would be fun to have game night at your place.” Janine says excitedly. “I brought the game of life.” And you look to see the game in her hands.
You were about to question them more as to why they chose your place without telling or asking you, you open your mouth to speak but then you see Melissa coming up to your door.
“Melissa, you’re here too?” You ask her and she smiles.
“Yep, can we come in?” She asks you and of course you can’t deny her.
“Ya come on in guys.” You say and step to the side to let them all in.
They all walk in and look around your place in awe. “How do you live in a place this big?” Jacob says and you shrug.
“My parents offered to buy me a place when I told them I wanted to be a teacher.” You say with a chuckle. “I declined at first but then the roommate I had drove me to almost wanting to stab him, so I accepted their offer so I don’t commit a murder.” You say and Melissa giggles at that. In reality everyone laughed, but the one you only really notice is Melissa.
“So where’s this girlfriend of yours?” Jacob says and you got so entranced by Melissa that your brain wasn’t processing properly.
“Girlfriend?” You ask him and they all give you a weird look.
“Ya, Amelia?” He says confused. And you suddenly remembered, although with the look they all have, you doubt they’ll believe you with whatever you say.
“I don’t see any pictures of you with another girl around here.” Melissa points out, looking at all your pictures on the wall.
“Alright, I don’t actually have one. I made her up, my friends kept trying to set me up with women and they kept not really going well so I made up a lie.” You say and Melissa lets out a loud sigh of relief and everyone turns to look at her. Melissa’s cheeks turn pink at being heard and put on the spot. “Something you want to say Melissa?” You ask her with a quirked brow.
“Um uh…n-no not really.” She stuttered out and everyone gives a confused look to each other. Barb decides to save Melissa in that moment as Melissa is unable to speak properly.
“Why don’t we go and set up the game?” She says and everyone agrees. You go to your living room and they set it up on the coffee table.
“I have some food I can put out for snacks, I’ll just go get it. Melissa, do you mind helping me?” You ask her and she turns to look at you.
“Uh , ya sure of course!” Melissa says and scrambles to her feet.
There was 2 reasons you asked her for help, you could have asked anyone but you wanted to be closer to her and show her your kitchen. You know from being in an Italian family, she loves cooking and would probably be in awe of your kitchen. And she was, as soon as you both entered, her eyes went wide and mouth open.
“You have an amazing kitchen.” She says and you smile at her.
“Thanks.”
“You must love cooking in it.” She says and you chuckle.
“I actually don’t cook much. I don’t always like doing it.” You tell her and she looks almost offended.
“What? But this kitchen looks like it’s made to be used a lot, to be used to do so much cooking and baking. I mean I would if I lived here.” She says and she set up a perfect opportunity for you.
You get a bunch of chip bags and some dips and place them on the counter. “Well you could always come over and use it as much as you like.” You tell her and her eyes go wide.
“Really?”
“Ya, if you want. I don’t mind.” You say and she smiles.
“I might take you up on that.” She says and you smile at her. “I think you just want to have some of my cooking.” She teases you and you giggle. You have had some of her cooking a couple times over the 14 months you’ve been at Abbott.
“Well I will admit that I love your cooking but you could come and use the kitchen and I don’t need anything in return.” You tell her and she laughs.
She helps you carry all the chips and dips out into the living room.
“Alright, here’s a variety of chips and dips.” You tell them and they all smile.
You then get into teams of two. You expect for Melissa to pair with Barb and for you to end up with Janine or Jacob. Unexpectedly, Barb asks Jacob to team up, and Janine asks Gregory. Melissa gives a look to Barb and Barb just grins at her. Melissa then looks to you.
“Wanna partner up with me.” She asks and you laugh.
“Well thank you for asking, even if there wasn’t any other choice.” You joke with her and she smiles. “I would love to team up with you.” You add and she grins and blushes a bit.
Unknown to both of you, everyone planned this, for you two to team up together and so they all picked someone to team up with before you guys got a chance.
You all pick out a car to use and whether to go straight to a career or college. Jacob and Barb both pick career right away and everyone else picks college and gets debt.
“Oh look at that, I can be either a teacher or a Doctor.” You say and everyone laughs. “I feel I might be a hypocrite if I don’t pick a teacher.” You say and pick teacher and then a salary. Melissa gets super excited and is able to pick firefighter.
“OH HELL YES!” She says as she picks firefighter immediately.
“What was your other choice?” You ask and she looks.
“Uh, accountant.” She says and looks confused at that and you laugh.
Everyone is having fun playing, there’s laughs, cheering and eating. The more the night goes on, the more touchy Melissa gets with you. Now she knows that you’re actually single, she takes the opportunity to flirt with you. She side hugs you when she’s happy with a victory, and sometimes she leaves her arm there for a bit, even after her turn is done. She’s placed a hand on your leg a few times, and everytime she does that, you blush. She rubs your arm when you experience a loss, like paying for the kids for something. “Damn demanding kids. How do we have 4 of them” You say with a pout and she laughs at that. You guys got the most kids and you picked 2 girls and 2 boys, the boys being twins.
You all end up playing again with the same teams but the rule being you can’t pick the same career. Everyone that picked college last time ends up picking career path just to switch it up a bit, while Barb and Jacob pick college.
This time while playing, Melissa has her arm around your waist for half the game and the other half on your thigh. You swear that life is testing you tonight. You and Melissa end up winning both times and Melissa grins at that. After the second time, you all end up watching a movie. The group ends up picking a horror movie, despite your reluctance since you get scared easily.
Everyone is sitting on either your couch or your 2 love seats. Barb and Jacob are spread out on your couch, while Janine and Gregory are on one of the love seats. So you and Melissa take the other seat. Barb and Jacob each use a blanket, Janine and Gregory share one, while you and Melissa also share a blanket.
Since your kids were so hyper today, you were more tired than usual and you were comfy leaning on Melissa a bit. Melissa has the one arm that’s closest to you, propped up on the back of the seat, with the other one on your thigh and her body is turned to you a bit. You end up getting scared pretty early on and accidentally go to hug Melissa during a jump scare. Melissa stops breathing for a second before she puts an arm around you protectively. “It’s alright, you’re safe, I got you.” She tells you and she smiles. Everyone pretends to not notice what happened and hide a grin.
Everyone then decides to leave but since Melissa had a few glasses of wine, so you offer to let her sleep in your spare room so she doesn’t drive home drunk.
Melissa ends up hearing you scream when you awake from a nightmare and she goes over and knocks on your door.
“Y/n, it’s Melissa. I heard you screaming so I thought I’d come to check if you were ok.”
You get out of bed and go and open your bedroom door. “I’m alright, I just had a nightmare. I knew I shouldn’t have watched the movie with you guys. I’ll be too afraid to sleep now, I guess it’s good that tomorrow is Sunday.” You tell her with a small chuckle.
“Oh I’m sorry hun.” She tells you as she leans against the door frame.
“It’s alright, maybe I’ll just watch something on my phone, maybe some stand up and fall asleep again.” You tell her and she looks at you then an idea pops up in her head.
“What if I slept with you?” She says and you look at her with wide eyes and her face mirrors that when she realises how that sounds. “I-I meant in the same bed and sleep… actual sleep not sex.” She defends and you giggle. In your tired state and full of adrenaline from the nightmare, you blurt out something before your brain has time to stop you.
“I wouldn’t say no to either one of those.” You say and she looks at you surprised.
“Really?” She tells you and that’s when it hits you what you said and a huge and noticeable blush makes it on your cheeks.
“Umm, I mean , I… I-I have no idea what I mean actually.” You say and put your hand over your eyes in embarrassment. Melissa takes the hand off your face then looks at you.
“Do you like me? As in a crush.” She asks and you nod, too embarrassed to speak. As soon as you nod, she has a big smile. “Really?” And you nod again. Melissa gets really excited and kisses you. You kiss her back and you both think that it’s wonderful, you both enjoy the kiss but then Melissa pulls back when she realises she didn’t admit her own feelings, verbally anyway. “I like you too.” She says with a huge smile and a sparkle in her eyes.
You giggle at that. “I figured by the kiss.” You tell her and she smiles warmly at you. “I would love the company in my bed to try and sleep, if you’re still offering.” You tell her and she nods.
“Of course. If you want we could cuddle. I was rather enjoying that on the couch.” She tells you and you agree. You cuddle in your bed and you manage to fall asleep wrapped in her arms and a smile on your face, and your nightmares didn’t come back that night.
On Monday morning you come into the break room and get a coffee as usual. You go and sit on the couch next to Melissa to watch the news. She looks at you and smiles and you smile back at her. Everyone is looking at you guys curiously then you see Melissa looking at you with a mischievous expression. She wraps a hand behind your head and pulls you in for a kiss, you kiss her back and hear gasps from everyone. Melissa pulls back after a few seconds and you see everyone grinning.
“Well it’s about time you two.” Barb says. “I’m glad our plan to make you team up worked.” And you both look over at her with a quirked eyebrow.
“You guys planned that?” Melissa says and you smile and lean on her shoulder while she wraps an arm around your waist, still questioning everyone.
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kisskawa · 1 year ago
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— in love and war cw alcohol, intoxication, reader has bad friends and a loving ex
oikawa’s already frowning when he pulls up next to you, hazard lights highlighting your face in blinking orange. the apples of your cheeks seem softer in this light, bunching together and causing your eyes to curve into happy crescents as his name tumbles easily from your lips.
“why are you by yourself?” oikawa demands as he nears you, outstretched hand meeting yours.
“‘m not,” you grin at the contact, letting yourself tiptoe closer to oikawa until you’re leaning against his chest. “my friends are over there,” you point up the road where oikawa can only just make out a gaggle of people, “see?”
a hand sits on your shoulder, heavy and grounding and serious. you look awfully pleased under its warmth. “why aren’t they with you?”
you look up at oikawa with a thoughtful hum, genuinely trying to remember as your brows furrow. “didn’t want to be with them,” you exhale, shrugging. your friends have never been as kind as they should be, you know oikawa doesn’t like them. you lighten up again, “’sides, was waiting for you.”
it feels like a punch to the stomach when oikawa shakes his head at you. and suddenly aching, you let him tug you back to his car and settle you in, having precariously parked in all his concern.
the drive back is quiet, nothing more than the mindless rattling of a late night radio host and the gentle purr of the engine. oikawa can feel you staring at him, trying to gage whether or not he’s mad at you.
the passing streetlights make your head swirl, a little dizzier than out in the street where fresh air filled your lungs. but you’re not alone now, and the leather seats of oikawa’s car are worn and familiar. your fingers run across the thick stitches and you use them as markers to count the flickers of orange that dance across oikawa’s face one by one. they make him look handsome, drawing long shadows across his sharp features and warming his eyes.
by the time oikawa’s pulled in, you’ve fallen asleep, chin tucked into your chest with your last thought being the driver beside you. it could’ve been worse, oikawa muses, you could’ve been sick.
he allows himself a moment. a sliver of peace to watch the way your chest rises and falls, air punctuated only by soft exhales. you really did look pretty, routine of dressing up for a night out long since perfected. oikawa can’t forget the way you’d shone when you’d caught sight of him. he leaves the car before the thought can stick any longer.
he’s only away for a split second, rounding the bonnet to get to you. the door opens and suddenly he’s surrounding you, leaning close to pull at the seatbelt, fresh linen and vanilla. 
oikawa freezes when your fingers curl around his wrist. “i miss you,” you murmur. his heart stutters painfully.
you half think you’ve imagined the mumbled confession, oikawa continuing to work at the seatbelt until you’re free and easing yourself into his arms. you stumble a little as you get out the car, it’s ok, oikawa’s got you.
“let’s go inside first,” he finally responds, voice taut.
oikawa’s flat is just as you remember, down to every last detail. the framed picture of his high school volleyball club that greets you at the door, and the blue umbrella that he never remembers to take by the shoe rack. the slightly wonky kitchen cupboard door that houses mismatched mugs collected over the years, and the blanket you’d made together on the arm of the sofa, his fabric intertwined with yours. knowing it all like the back of your hand, you walk a familiar path to his room.
“i miss you,” you repeat, firmer this time as you perch on the end of his bed, trying hard not to get overwhelmed by the comfort of his sheets. it’s so much stronger here, fresh linen, vanilla and the faintest touch of the ocean air.
oikawa shuts his eyes, “you’re drunk.”
“i’m not,” it’s true, you’d sobered up quickly on the ride back, “i had a few drinks but i’m not drunk. i mean what i said, i swear i wouldn’t lie to you.” you wouldn’t be this coherent drunk. and under the effects of alcohol, you’d never approach such a serious topic as you and tooru like this. you both know that.
“i know you wouldn’t, but you’ve still drank, you wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t. and i can’t listen to you say you miss me when i can’t tell you how i feel in return, knowing your head’s all hazy and your judgement’s wrong.”
your fingers wind in oikawa’s sheets. “you don’t have to believe me right now, i’ll tell you in the morning and every day after if that’s what it takes. but you can tell me,” you urge, “you can tell me anything.”
the floodgates open.
“you can’t keep doing this. you can’t keep calling me and asking me to pick you up, because you know i will, you know i care,” oikawa’s voice is low, defeated, as it expels the truth, “it’s not fair.”
the wobble in his words makes your heart hurt and you rub at your chest, hoping the pressure will ease some of the pain. it doesn’t. instead, it comes out in your response, more unfair than anything, “i only ever call you, i only ever want you. and it’s the same reason why you still care.”
a call of your name shuts you up, sternness stopping you in your tracks. oikawa’s never once said your name like this, always honeyed and warm and fond. the ache swells.
you crawl into bed, pulling the covers up tight to your neck and trying to hide the glassiness in your eyes. you wouldn’t cry, you couldn’t cry. oikawa was right, it wasn’t fair. because you had broken things off, you hadn’t been able to deal with the drowning comfort of oikawa’s love, and yet, you were the one calling him when you needed someone to rely on. each and every time. “’m sorry,” you whisper, the thickness in your voice comes through anyway.
“i know,” oikawa sighs, tucking in next to you, one hand around your waist and the other running through your hair, the position you’ve always liked, “i’m sorry too.”
when oikawa wakes in the morning, the glass he left on the bedside table is empty and a single painkiller has been punched out of the foil packet. the bed too is cold, a collection of wrinkled sheets and pooling blankets. your presence in the room is barely there, only evident by a trail of absences.
oikawa curls up, bed suddenly too big, too lonely, as he tugs the duvet up and over his head. he lies there for a long time, a lump as he reprimands himself. it was true, what he said last night - this wasn’t fair, he couldn’t keep doing this routine. and yet, he couldn’t do anything but care for you, its like he was programmed to. you can’t keep waiting forever, his brain commands and the twinge in his heart pulls his knees closer to his chest.
“oikawa?” the gentle call of his name forces him out from his mind and underneath the covers. his head pokes out from the duvet, brown hair messy and eyes bleary. you notice the downturn of his lips first at the sound of his surname on your tongue. it seems clunky, awkward.
your stomach churns and your hands grip cruelly at the cup inbetween your hands. it’s coffee, half milk with two heaps of sugar and caramel syrup. not the way you like it at all. you hold it out and oikawa’s kind not to mention the tiny tremble of your arms. “if you’ll let me, i owe you something,” you pause, “i miss you, tooru.”
tooru beams. not forever at all.
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urcatslitterbox · 1 year ago
Note
You should do a never have I ever with colby and they are home alone and get bored so they decide to drink and play it and one thing leads to another where they end up sleeping with each other and confessing their love
Never have I ever…
Colby brock x fem!reader smut
Cw: smut, daddy kink, p n v, unprotected sex (be safe!), (breeding???), let me know if I missed anything!
A/n: omg I’m so sorry this took literal years to come out. This is my first time writing something like this so I’m sorry if it sucks. Also I began writing this before sam and Katrina broke up so that’s why they are together in this.
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“God I’m so bored” Colby groaned throwing himself onto the couch opposite of where I was sitting.
Sam and Katrina had gone out on a date night, leaving the house to Colby and me for the night. I was quite bored myself so I offered up a suggestion. “We could play a game?” he thought for a moment he decided it was a good idea. “Alright, like what?” he asked, “anything that involves drinking, I've had a looong week” I joked. Colby got off the couch heading into the kitchen, there was a rattling before he returned to the living room. In his hands were two wine glasses and a bottle of red. He sat on the rug of the living room and patted the floor telling me to join him. I sat down, still opposite him and he handed me a glass. “Do you have a game or are we just going to drink on the floor?” I teased. Colby smiled, filling my glass. “We're gonna play never have I ever, but instead of putting down a finger we take a drink” he said. “Ok, I'll start,” I said, thinking of what to say. “Ok never have I ever snuck out,” I said. Colby’s eyes widened slightly, “what!? You're kidding, you've never snuck out?” he asked in disbelief. I smiled knowing he would have to drink, “nope, I was a good kid” I stated. “Come on now drink up brock” I smirked, he rolled his eyes before taking a sip of his wine. “Ok, my turn, never have I ever..” he trailed off thinking of how he could get me to drink. “Called my friend to fake an emergency so I could get out of a bad date” he said with a cocky look on his face. “That's not fair you're targeting me!” Colby just laughed, signalling me to take a drink.
As the night went on Colby and I got progressively tipsier. “Ok ok I have one, never have I ever worn handcuffs for any reason” I grinned knowing for a fact that Colby has been in handcuffs, perhaps more than once. He narrowed his eyes at me before finishing off what was left in his glass. As he poured himself more he went his turn. “Since we’re playing that game, never have I ever given a lap dance” he said calmly. I felt my face flush as I took a sip from my glass. Colby’s eyebrows raised for a moment before dropping. “Never have I ever done it in a pool” I said, understanding what this had turned into. He drank from his glass before leaning closer to me. “ I find that hard to believe y/n/n” he said quietly. I returned the gesture, leaning in as well, not wanting to seem intimidated by our close proximity. “Just because you can't keep it in your pants and have to have sex everywhere doesn't mean everyone else does too” I teased. Colby scoffed, “ok, never have I ever masturbated when people are home” he said. I felt my face get hot, I didn't think anyone was home when I did, but I was wrong. “Well, never have I ever listened in on someone you creep” I fought. He just smirked, “it's hard not to when you make those pretty sounds” he whispered, staring into my eyes. My cheeks were on fire at this point, I looked away to avoid his intense gaze. “Never have I ever wanted to kiss you so badly..” I heard him say. I looked back at him our faces mere centimetres apart. I leaned closer closing the gap between us in a soft kiss. Colby held my head in place as he deepened the once-soft kiss turning it into something hotter.
We made out sloppily, the wine and game long forgotten. Colby began to lean me back onto the rug, moving his lips to my neck. He sucked deep bruises from my neck to my collar before kissing back up to my ear. My breath got deeper as my heart raced. Truth be told I've liked Colby for some time now and the fact that he was on top of me made my core heat up. I let out soft whimpers as I tugged on his shirt wanting it off. He pulled away ripping his shirt off of him before heading towards mine. He looked to confirm that I was ok with this, I nodded wanting to feel him already. He practically tore it off of me then my pants followed, adding to the mess of clothes in the room. Colby sat back admiring me. I began to feel self conscious and tried to hide my body. “Don’t hide yourself from me, you’re so beautiful”, he whispered as he grabbed my arms that were shielding my body. He kissed me passionately and his lips trailed down to my breast. He pulled my nipple into his mouth sucking harshly. I moaned at the feeling as he did the same to the other one. “God baby I’m so hard for you..I need to be inside you, I can’t wait any longer.” He groaned lining the head of his cock up with entrance. He pushed in slowly allowing me to adjust to his length. I hissed at the stretch as he bottomed out. “Fuuuck” he breathed into my ear. “Colby.. please..” I whined. “What baby? Use your words” he teased. “Please fuck me” I said looking into his eyes. Somehow his eyes got even darker at my words before he spoke. “Don’t have to ask me twice princess” he growled before thrusting hard into me. I moaned loudly as he rocked his hips into mine aggressively. I clawed at his muscular back as I started to loose grip on reality. He was so big and deep I could barely take it. “Oh god Colby yes!” I moaned as he pounded into me even harder. “Fuck yeah take it baby…god you’re so tight gonna make me cum” he groaned. “Want daddy to cum inside your pretty pussy? Make you mine?” He growled, speeding up. I moaned in response, my walls clenching around him as I grew closer to cumming. “Yes daddy please! G- gonna cum daddy so close!” I panted. “Me too baby it’s alright, let go cum on daddy cock” he grunted burying his face in my neck. I all but screamed his name as I came undone around his cock. He thrusted a few more times before I felt his warm cum fill me. He pulled out and held me close to him, both of us panting as we came down from our highs.
I closed my eyes as we laid there cuddled together on the carpet. “Y/n” he breathed into my neck. “Mhm” I mumbled, too tired to form a coherent sentence. “I I really like you. I have for a long time now” he confessed. At that my eyes snapped open. “Colby-“ I tried but he interrupted me. “I know you probably don’t feel the same and this was a one time thing bu-“ I cut him off smashing my lips onto his, kissing him with everything I had. All the pent up feelings I had towards him pouring out through the kiss. When we pulled away he looked at me confused , his lips red and swollen. “Colby, I like you too moron” I giggled. His expression went from confused to sheer love in a matter of seconds. “Good because now that I’ve had a taste I’m not letting you go” he promised, kissing me again.
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skellyflowers · 5 months ago
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Heartbeat
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I didn’t even see Phantom coming. One moment I was talking with my friend, the next my world was literally turned upside-down. Phantom is pretty sneaking but normally he will announce himself. So when I found myself thrown over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, I was really caught off guard.
“PHANTOM!” I finally said when I recovered.
“Hi Angel.” He answers, wagging his tail.
“I was talking to my friend.”
“And now you're not.”
I wanted to stay mad at him, but I really missed him. Phantom had been busy for the last 2 weeks with things for Ghost. I know how important touring is to him so I tried not to complain. But I would be lying if I said I hadn't missed him.
In no time at all we end up in the ghoul den. Some of the ghouls watching as I am carried to Phantom's room. He kicked in the door and tossed me on his bed. He closed the door and then started to rummage through his drawers. He eventually pulled out an old Ghost t-shirt and threw it on the bed.
He then walked to stand in front of me and held out his hand. When I grab it he gently pulls to him. He puts our foreheads together and I hear his purring rattle around in my head. His hands cup my face as his thumbs rub my cheeks. He then slides his hands down and starts to unbutton my uniform.
After undressing me he puts the band shirt on me and pushes me back on the bed. Phantom then undressed himself until he was in his boxers. He then pushed my legs open and laid down on my chest. Cuddling is not where I thought this night would go, not that I’m complaining. I put my hands in his hair and was immediately met with more purring.
After a few minutes Phantom lifted his head to rest his chin on my chest. Between his horns I could see his tail wagging back and forth. I could see quintessence swirling in his eyes. It was hypnotizing. 
“I missed you Angel.” He said, breaking the silence.
“I missed you too, Bug.” I responded. Somehow his purring got even louder.
“Sorry that I have been so busy. Papa really wants the performance for the Ministry anniversary to be perfect.”
“It’s ok. Pretty much everyone is working on the anniversary preparations.”
“I know but, I don’t like that practice runs so late.” He complains. “You are usually asleep when we get done and I don’t want to wake you up.”
“We can make up for lost time after.” Phantom’s tail is now loudly thumping against the mattress. Clearly he already has ideas.
“I love you Angel.” He says, laying his head back down on my chest.
“I love you too, Bug.”
Just before I fall asleep Phantom picks his head up once more.
“Do you think Papa will let me bring you on tour with us?”
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oneweirdbookaddict · 5 months ago
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Alright @undertheopensky and @violet27writes (hope you don’t mind the tag! Sorry!)
This one is for you guys 😂
Part two to this fic!
Can be read separately but will make more sense if you read that one first.
Summary:
Time and Four have Issues as the rest of the chain tries their best to get their resident skyloftian back.
6358 words!
Warnings for torture, violence, mentions of death.
~~~~
Sky takes a slow breath, his return to consciousness rather unpleasant.
His head aches, a dull thrum deep inside his skull.
Weak coughs rattle in his chest, and he a metallic, coppery taste lingers in his mouth.
He’s pretty sure he’s laying on the ground, but it seems… rocky. Tilting and moving and rolling underneath him… as if he’s on a boat.
His head pounds.
His tongue is bleeding… had he bitten it?
He… right… he’d been captured… He’d heard Four screaming his name… Four! He’d head Four screaming- he tries to sit up and immediately collapses back down, floor swaying underneath him.
“Four?” He groans, moving his head off the rough, hot wood. “Four? Smithy? Time?”
He wants to look around, to see if they’re with him, to see if they’re ok, but he’s too weak.
He takes a slow breath.
“Four?” He pleads, jolting when metal clatters.
“You’re awake, good! Hate to think we’d killed you before we got to have our fun! Those other two didn’t last long.”
He manages to look up, finding one of the people who captured them.
Shakes his head, straining from the effort of looking up.
A laugh. Cold and harsh, no humor in it.
“The little one was weak. All bravado until we got him figured out. He wasn’t so brave when his organs were being removed!”
His blood boils at the thought of them hurting Four, face twisting into a glare.
“I’ll kill you.” He promises, forcing himself to sit up and look at the face properly. He’s going to remember this guy and kill him for laying a finger on his friends-
Another laugh.
“I wish you the best of luck.”
And he starts walking away.
“I’ll kill you!” He screams, unsure of where the sudden strength is coming from. But he’s grateful for it. “I’m going to kill you, you hear me?! You’ll pay for their blood with your own! I’m going to kill you!”
He has to pause, out of breath now. Slumps back again, tears burning in his eyes.
They can’t be gone… they… no.
No, they’re the strongest people he knows, Four and his unwavering bravery, unshakable Four. And Time, unwavering and confident… no.
He refuses to believe it- they’re trying to break him.
So he takes a slow breath, scrubs his face off, and lets the self pity wash away into fury.
~~~~
“How’s that cut on your stomach feeling?” He asks, undoing the bandages on Four’s bicep. Brushes his scarf out of the way, too.
“Sore,” Four admits in a volume just above a whisper. He doesn’t think the kid’s talked in full volume- or even half volume- since he woke up for good. “But not terrible.”
“That’s good, these are looking a lot better too.”
“Can we take the stitches out of my thigh?” The smith asks quietly, and he pauses.
Chews his lip- the answer is probably not, but he doesn’t want to just say that. So… “We’ll look at it in a minute.” He decides on, and Four nods.
Hyrule inspects the four slices on the smith’s calf, murmuring softly that they’re healing well.
Four doesn’t like those cuts. Not at all. All the deliberate cuts have four of them- the ones on his calf, on his arm, his bicep, and the four deep gashes on his thigh that he’s honestly still worried about.
He’s sure the four cuts and Four’s namesake isn’t just a coincidence. Something in particular happened with those ones.
“Can I ask-” he starts gently, but the kid interrupts.
“No.” Four says quietly, looking away.
“Four, buddy, we need to know-”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
And they let it go.
A few minutes of silence as they clean, rebandage, note the progress and areas of concern- until Time walked into the room.
Four’s whole demeanor changes instantly, tensing up, face going stony.
Both he and Hyrule pause nervously, waiting for the explosion…
Time’s gaze flicks between the three of them, then slowly steps into the room.
“How-” Time’s voice cracks and the old man pauses to clear his throat. “How are you doing? Those… healing up ok?”
Four’s eyes are ice cold, not even sparing him a word.
Just ignores him, staring determinedly at the cuts over his bicep. He’s finished cleaning them, careful of the forming scabs over them.
“These are healing well.” He says again, if only to make Four feel… better.
It’s disheartening to see the kid so defeated.
Four just nods, expression unreadable.
“Let’s leave the bandages off tonight. Let it air out.” He suggests softly, and Four nods again.
Just looks… so worn down.
“Ok… Rulie?”
“Yep, looking good here. Cleaned and healing well.”
“Good, let’s look at the ones on your thigh.”
Four nods again and scoots his pants down, shifting the fabric of his underclothes up to reveal the deep cuts.
“How are those, any changes?”
A shake of the head.
He gently inspects the cuts, looking for signs of infection, scabbing, straining or pulling stitches…
“Looks good. Want to take these out?”
It’s a bit early, but… they could get away with it if Four wants. He’s desperate to get a smile out of the kid.
He only gets a shrug in response.
“You asked earlier.” He pushes a bit. “Do you want to take them out?”
A long second, then Four nods. “Yes.”
“Alrighty. Want me to help you, or you want to do it?”
Four holds up a trembling hand in response, answering that question.
“Well. That answers that, then.” He says lightly, accepting the small scissors that Hyrule hands him.
He doesn’t get a smile. Just a sad flick of the eyes in response.
~~~~
“There you are, think that’s good.” He says, tightening the bandages around Four’s thigh.
Four stands to adjust his clothing, then looks up at him.
“Thank you.” The teenager whispers, and he nods.
“Yeah. Anytime, Smithy. Let me know if there’s anything else I can do, alright?”
Four nods, drifting to the door.
“Four-” Time tries, but Four ignores him again.
He and Time watch Four slowly leave the room, shoulders hunched.
Time sighs slowly, sinking down into a chair.
“I see you’ve made progress with him.” He says, raising an eyebrow.
“I don’t know what else to do.” Time says flatly. “He won’t talk to me.”
“You can’t force him.” He shrugs, moving over to the desk. Time sighs from the other side of the room.
“Did you notice Four was limping?” He asks, genuinely curious if anyone else has noticed.
“What?” Time asks quickly. Apparently not.
“Yep. Had a limp. Right knee. Hiding it well, but it’s hurting him.”
“Is his knee injured or accommodating for…”
“His ribs? I don’t know. We need to leave tomorrow, we can’t risk another day. Take the five of us, search the place top to bottom, not leaving until he’s found…”
“If his ribs are hurting him from walking he might just be accommodating to that.”
“Yeah.” He offers offhandedly, not really paying attention anymore. His mind is on their plan, frowning over the map of the base they’d sketched out. What can they do better than last time?
Things had gone wrong quickly last time- the three of them hadn’t been together, they didn’t get all of them into the base, Legend had been discovered, and Four…
He tries not to think about how bad Four’s injuries were. The way they fought to keep him breathing, to keep him alive.
They weren’t expecting any of them to be that injured. Banged up, sure. Some serious injuries, if they were unlucky. That?
They hadn’t even brought a potion- glass was… noisy. That’s a mistake they won’t be repeating when they get Sky out.
He shakes himself out of the unpleasant thoughts, focusing on what he can control now. Their plan.
“We have to assume security is going to be increased… should we brute force it..? We don’t have the numbers. Stealth mission… Wild, Legend… Hyrule? Twi will insist on going, I’m going to insist on going… is five too many?” He mutters under his breath, letting his gaze drift around the room.
Time understands he’s more talking to himself than to him, and he appreciates the quiet.
“Four’s gonna be pissed when I tell him he’s not coming… but we can’t take him. Hmm…”
It’s late. He can worry about this tomorrow- he needs some sleep to clear his mind.
He sighs, setting the quill down and standing.
Time glances up at him, looking exhausted.
“Get some sleep, Sprite,” He says softly, dabbing his inky fingers on the parchment so he doesn’t stain anything. “You look exhausted.”
“You-” Time starts, but he cuts the man off.
“I’m just going to check on Four, and then I’ll be heading to bed myself in a minute.”
Time nods with a sigh, standing and blowing out the lanterns in the room with him.
“Goodnight, Captain.” Time says quietly, and he gives a small nod as they exit the room together.
“Goodnight, Time. Sleep well.”
~~~~
His stomach rumbles as he walks down the hall, reminding him suddenly that he’d completely forgotten dinner.
So he alters his destination to the lobby of the inn, finding both of his desired goals- a plate of sandwiches Wild had made, and the smith he’d been looking for.
And a bonus- the rancher, who blinks up at him in surprise.
Four’s… dozed off on Twi’s lap.
Twi makes a slashing motion across his throat, the meaning coming across clearly: you wake him, you die.
He nods his understanding, heading to the plate of sandwiches Wild had made for dinner hours ago and taking one.
Studies Four, a task made difficult by the fuzzy blanket engulfing him.
Slow, gentle rise and fall of his chest… lips slightly parted, small hands lightly gripping the fabric of Twi’s tunic, head resting just over the rancher’s heart. Shifting slowly every so often, giving a sleepy mumble every so often.
“He alright?” He asks, and Twi sighs softly.
Makes a weird shrugging gesture, one arm gently wrapping around the smithy.
“I… I don’t know, Wars. He’s a mess.”
He nods with a sigh.
Four has been a mess since he woke up for good.
Barely sleeping, barely eating, refusing to rest from his near fatal injuries, refusing to talk about what had happened unless he thought it could help Sky…
Talking to himself, zoned out all the time, getting his attention was difficult, getting him to do something he didn’t want to do was impossible. Rest his ribs and relax for an hour? Nope.
Sleep for the night? Not happening.
Eat something for dinner? Don’t even think about it.
If you pushed the kid at all? You were on his ‘I don’t like you’ list for a good day or two.
Unless you were Time, who seems to have a permanent place on that list.
The kid could barely stand to be in the same room as their leader- he sees this causing a lot of problems if this continues.
But for now the kid sleeps- somewhat restlessly, he admits, but still sleeping.
He scarfs down another sandwich, ignoring Twi’s raised eyebrow, thinking back to the last time he ate. Did he eat lunch? Yes, he must have, it was… it…
Well… ok, did he eat breakfast? Did he… sleep last night?
No wonder he’s so exhausted.
He blinks slowly, shaking his head at himself. He’s a mess. He stands with a yawn, eyes finding Twi.
“I need to get to sleep, you want any help with him or something? Getting him to bed?”
“Nah, I’ve got him. Thanks, Cap. Sleep tight.”
“You, too, Rancher.” He nods, heading down the hall, finding his room, flopping onto the bed and crashing almost immediately.
~~~~
“What’s with the urgency, Cap?” Twi asks as he walks in with Legend.
“Plan to get Sky back.” He answers, and all the heroes perk up.
Even Four focuses on him long enough to meet his eyes, then slowly returns to staring out the window.
Now that everyone’s in the room and he’s got all their attention, he starts explaining his plan.
“Ok. Plan is to go tonight- Wild, Hyrule, Me, Twi, and Legend. We’re going stealth rather than force, so let’s try to make this an in and out entry. Hopefully no combat.”
“I want to go.” Four says quietly.
He takes a slow breath, meeting the kid’s eyes.
“Not happening. Wild, you’re good at stealth and can offer us stealth potions. We’re going to need those, the ones that last as long as you can manage. We’re going to split and search, Wild and Twi on the bottom floor, Me and Hyrule will take the ground level-”
“Hyrule and I.” Someone corrects- Twi.
“Oh, can it.” He rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling. “Legend, your job is to use all those fancy tools and tricks of yours to figure out if there’s any secret rooms or anything they could be hiding him in.”
“I want-”
He meets Four’s eyes and holds his gaze.
“Four, for the sake of your safety, no. You’re recovering, you’re exhausted, I understand you want to come with us, but your ribs are still busted, your wrist is weak, you’re in pain- fighting is going to be a challenge for you.”
“But the goal is to not be in a fight-” Four tries, and he smiles softly.
“That doesn’t guarantee there won’t be one, Smithy. You’re not coming with us. I’m sorry.”
For a second he thinks Four’s going to cry.
Then the smithy’s eyes dart away and the kid slumps in his seat.
A long moment of silence.
He addresses the group once again. “We’re leaving in six hours- nightfall. More security, but less general activity. Get what you need, eat a bite, whatever. Meet back here at nine chimes.”
Some nods, and they all disperse.
Both the smith and the rancher linger, Twi raising an eyebrow at him after glancing at Four.
Expecting an argument, he waits for the smithy to talk first- but the kid just slowly slides out of his seat and carefully makes his way out the door and down the hall with a sharp sniffle.
He makes a mental note to check on the kid in a minute.
Glances at Twi, waiting for the rancher to speak.
“He had a panic attack earlier.”
His heart sinks. “Four?”
“Yep. Kept saying… you know. What he’s been saying. Sky’s dead and there’s… no point in…”
Two trails off, and they stand in a horrible silence.
“Well.” He sighs slowly, “I was about to go talk to him anyway. Maybe…” he trails off.
“Yeah.” Twi says quietly.
Then- “Do you really think-”
“No.” He says firmly. He refuses to consider it. “Sky… no. He’s fine. They didn’t kill Four, they didn’t kill Time… I think he’s alive. They want information, and… Sky doesn’t have it. He’s gonna be in rough shape, but he’s going to be alright.”
They don’t mention the horrible minute Four wasn’t breathing.
Another long silence.
“Well…” he starts, mind going back to the smith.
He makes to leave, but Twi hesitantly takes his arm and stops him. “Wars… this is going to work, right?”
Taking a deep breath, he musters a smile. The confident, easy going one he was known for back in the day. “If everything goes to plan.”
Twi nods, unconvinced. “I don’t know what it’ll take to break that kid, but I don’t want to see it. This has to work.”
“It will,” he promises, though they both know it’s empty words.
~~~~
Four is a lump of blankets on the bed of his room when he gently pokes his head in after receiving a small ‘hm?��� When he’d knocked.
“Hey, buddy, you doing ok?” He asks softly, making his way to the bed.
The lump of blankets rustles, making room for him to sit.
He does so with a groan as his knees ache, stretching out and laying on the bed.
Four’s frozen for a moment, but slowly scoots closer.
“C’mere,” He says quietly, and Four shifts to slowly nestle into his side. He’s not a touchy person, but Four needs a hug. He can manage for a moment or two.
His arms gently wrap around the kid, rubbing his back with a yawn.
“You in pain?” He yawns, only getting another rustle from the lump of blankets.
Four clearly doesn’t want to talk, so he lets him be. Just rubs his back slowly, the kiddo slowly cuddling back, small but toned arms wrapping around him.
His eyes close for a moment, giving another yawn.
He’s never been very relaxed with physical contact, but he finds himself enjoying the relaxation.
Four somehow seems to realize this, or perhaps it’s merely a habit when Four slowly starts drawing small circles into his back.
Tracing little loops, eventually switching to what he assumes is letters and words, continuing even when his hand stops and he’s gone still, savoring every moment.
Eyes closed, until he’s drifting… drifting…
“Captain?” A voice says softly, and his eyes flutter blearily. Not wanting to be awake, he slowly sighs and curls into the blankets around him more.
“Wars, hey, time to start getting ready.” The same voice says gently, and he sighs again. Gives a mumble that even he’s not sure what he’s saying.
There’s a soft laugh, a hand touching his shoulder-
He snaps awake, shoving the hand off him, heart rate spiking panickedly in his chest.
“Hey… sorry, we’re getting ready to leave.” Twi offers quietly, and he nods slowly, trying to calm his breathing down.
Glances down at Four, ignoring Twi’s second apology. The smith is still sleeping, hair all in his face.
“Leaving… yeah… what time is it?” He says as he blinks away the grogginess, standing carefully.
“Almost nightfall. Eight and a half chimes. You should eat, we’ve still got a while.”
His eyes linger on the kid on the bed- despite Four’s insistence, he couldn’t convince himself that Four was of age.
“Wars, hey, you fell asleep, that’s all. We’re going to get Sky back. Are you alright?” Twi asks softly.
“I- yeah. Yeah, sorry.” He says, shaking his bleariness off. “Just… don’t remember falling asleep.”
It’s easier than explaining he fell asleep with Four cuddling him and the kid was at the opposite side of the bed when he woke up.
He looks back at the bed. Four’s… still asleep. Breathing slowly, lips slightly parted, face peaceful…
He shakes his hesitation off, following the rancher out of the room.
~~~~
Fifteen minutes.
He starts strapping his armor to his body.
Laces his boots.
Straps his sword and shield to his back.
One knife on both arms, one in his boot.
“Please let me come.” Four whispers, and he jumps.
Looks at the teenager, sitting up on the bed, looking miserable.
Hopeless.
He moves back to the bed, taking a seat next to the kid. Four’s eyes slowly find him.
“Do you trust me?” He asks softly instead of giving the response Four knows he’s going to get.
Soft grey eyes blink at him.
A small nod.
He reaches and gently takes Four’s hand.
“Four, buddy. I’m gonna get him back. I promise you. I’m not leaving without him. When I get back tonight Sky is going to be with me. I promise you that.”
Ten minutes.
“I’m worried about you, smithy. I think you’re pushing away what you went through to focus on Sky.”
Four looks away.
Swallows, blinking.
“I want to help you, buddy.” He practically whispers. “But I don’t know how. Do you trust me? For real?”
Four looks him in the eye again, nodding.
With much more confidence this time.
“I’m glad.” He says quietly, patting Four’s arm gently. “I trust you, too, you know. I’m not leaving you behind for anything you did. Or because I don’t trust you, or… or anything. I want you here because I’m worried sick about you. That’s all. So… can you do me a favor while I’m gone?”
Four nods slowly, blinking again.
“Eat something for me. Drink some water. Clean your wounds off, see how they’re doing, maybe even take a bath. Take some time to take care of yourself.”
Another nod.
He offers a smile, and almost gets one in return.
It’s the best he’s gotten since he got the smithy back.
“Thanks.” He says, patting the smith’s shoulder.
“Be safe.” Four whispers, and he nods now.
Offers a little smile, walking to the door.
“Safe is my middle name.”
He swears he hears the tiniest laugh before he closes the door, leaving Four behind.
~~~~
He’s sitting against the wall, pressing his forehead to the cold stone.
The guards open the cell door, carrying his food for the night, and he waits.
Waits for the one to get closer… grabs the neck of his uniform, scowling.
Shoves him roughly against the wall, using his forearm to cut off his oxygen.
“You’re going to tell me where my friends are,” he says calmly, despite the rage burning through him. “And maybe I’ll consider letting you live. Do we have a deal?”
He’s weaker than he’d like- woozy, not quite steady, hunger and pain making him less aware than he’d like.
But this is his chance- and by the goddess is he going to take it. His hand slowly finds the concealed weapons the guard has- a knife, a heavy but short club-type thing…
Takes the knife, tossing the other thing away.
“Good.” He releases some of the pressure on the guard’s neck. He feels no guilt as the man wheezes and coughs. This is the same one who bragged about torturing Four.
“I don’t know.” The man rasps shakily. “They’re just- gone. We tortured the little one- we were attacked afterwards. It was- it was chaos.”
Another long coughing fit.
“Your friends were gone. The boss was furious- we might’ve killed the small one.”
His hand trembles, knife nicking the man’s throat.
A drop of blood runs down the guard’s neck.
Before he can reply, he’s shoved roughly.
Losing balance in his weakened state, stumbling away, and something cracks over his head. He gasps, knife plunging into something soft-
For a second, he’s blind. Only seeing white, his knees hit the ground, nausea clenching in his stomach-
Ringing.
Loud ringing.
He slowly scoots to find the corner of the cell as he hears sounds of a struggle through the ringing- metal on metal of swords clashing, a pained grunt-
“Sky! Sky, Sky, hey… hey, talk to me, buddy, where are you hurt?”
“Wars..?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m here, Sky. I’ve got you. Where are you hurt? Drink this, bud.”
A cool bottle is nudged to his lips, hands easily moved when he attempts to push it away.
“Where’s… others?”
“Shh… drink.”
He takes a sip, sighing softly as the pounding in his head fades slowly. The ringing fades slowly. His vision clears, revealing a dusty and slightly bloody friend.
The body of his captor on the floor next to them, unmoving.
His knife sticking out of the little space between pieces of armor.
“Most of us are here, we got Four and Time, they’re alright. Promise. You just drink that, Sky. Rest up.”
He slowly finishes the potion, feeling much better afterwards. Achy and exhausted for sure, but… no longer feels like he’s burning from the inside out.
“Mm…” he tries, but his lips don’t really work.
“Good…” Wars says softly, hand slowly reaching out but backing away at the last minute. “Let’s get you to the inn, yeah? You’re safe now. I’ve gotcha.”
“Wars?! Hyrule?!”
“In here! I’ve got him!” Wars calls, making his head pound again.
“W’rs… Four?” He repeats, and Wars shushes him gently.
“He’s safe, Sky, I promise.”
He blinks grime out of his eyes, forcing himself to squint at the captain.
Legend runs into the room, kneeling next to him.
“Hey… hey, Sky.” Legend says softly, and he manages a small smile.
“Hey, Lege… how… y’doin’?”
“Good, really good, you alright? You hurt?”
“ ‘ve… been better.” He confesses, gratefully slumping into Legend’s arms when the veteran carefully scoots him away from the cold wall.
“I got him a potion, he doesn’t seem to have any serious injuries…” Wars is saying softly, and he can hear more voices slowly adding to the chorus.
Chorus? Singing… Zelda sings… he misses Zelda.
Zelda… he ought to write to her again, it’s been a while… because he was captured…
Hm. He probably shouldn’t tell her that, though.
“You can rest, Sky.” A voice whispers softly, and he manages a drowsy nod before giving in to the pull of sleep.
~~~~
“I got him a potion, he isn’t injured too bad anymore, he just needs some rest and food. Let’s get him back, we’ve been here too long.” He says, and the little group nods and readies themselves quickly.
It’s an easy trip out, to all their surprise. Sneaking past their security is… not difficult, and they only guard the cells. With little activity going on around the base, getting out unnoticed is easy.
There’s absolutely no urgency to get back to the inn like there was with Four. Sky… is… well, mostly ok.
Not really all that injured, as far as they can tell.
And he’d already had a potion.
Sky dozes off in Twi’s arms as they walk, having eaten some spare snacks and water they’d had when they got out of the base.
Not much, but more than the knight’s probably had in days.
The master sword is strapped to his back, and he has the oddest temptation to draw the sword.
His mind itches, unsatisfied with the results. He feels like he’s missing something- something important.
But Sky is with them, he’s fed and healed and sleeping gently, they have the master sword… nothing is wrong.
The skyloftian twitches.
It’s a quiet walk back to the inn.
They walk in the door, scanning Sky over for the hundredth time, meeting the others in the lobby as they walk in.
“He’s alright, he’s-”
Four’s at his side in an instant, eyes flickering over Sky, hand reaching out to gently brush over the Skyloftian’s shoulder.
“We’re guessing a nasty concussion, broken ribs, starvation and malnutrition, dehydration-”
“He has a head injury, look at his arms, put him down-”
And that’s when the seizure happens.
Twi yelps, immediately setting Sky down, Four practically shoves all of them away from the man, forcing them all to watch helplessly as Sky convulses.
“Stop!” Four says quickly when he tries to move toward his friend, and he freezes.
And they wait- not too long, until Sky slowly stops twitching and goes still.
“Sky?” Four asks softly, slowly kneeling next to the skyloftian. Blue eyes find Four slowly.
He moves next to Four, and the smithy lets him this time.
“Hey, Sky, how you feeling? You ok?” He asks softly, noting how confused the man looks.
“Mhm… ‘m ok.” Sky mumbles, eyes flicking to him before back to Four.
Four’s holding Sky’s hand… checking his pulse. Eyes lingering on his chest, watching for rise and fall…
“Sky? Can you answer some questions for me?” Four asks softly, and Sky nods.
“Good… where are you right now?”
“An… an inn. We were in the cell… Wars n Legend got me…”
“Good. Let’s get you a potion, alright? How are you feeling?”
He’s got a potion in his hands in a flash, handing it to the smithy. Four nods his thanks, eyes still on Sky.
“Just… sore. Tired.”
“Weak? Lightheaded, dizzy?”
“No.” Sky answers, and Four nods again.
Offers the potion, slowly getting to his feet.
Sky sips at it slowly, still seeming really out of it.
“Think he’s alright.” Four says quietly, looking at the ground. “That’s common after a seizure. And he had a head injury… not surprised he had one. Get that potion into him and let him sleep.”
And the smith is gone, out the door of the inn.
~~~~
It’s a long night.
Four comes back with a thick book about seizures, sitting in the room Sky’s taken with him. The kid doesn’t sleep at all, and he doesn’t have the heart to try to force the teenager when he’s not sleeping either.
So they’re both exhausted when it’s morning.
He glances at the door when he hears it open, meeting Time’s gaze. “Morning, Sprite.”
“Morning, Captain.” Time says distractedly, looking at Four. “Morning, Smithy. How’s Sky?”
Four’s eyes don’t move from the man on the bed.
“I don’t want to talk to you.” The smith says in a whisper.
Time steps into the room and closes the door. “I’m sorry to hear that. I’d quite like to talk with you, though, and you’ve been refusing for days.”
He holds his breath, the tension in the room unbearable. But the silence lingers- neither one says anything.
“Four, I’m sorry.” The old man says quietly, not moving from the door.
In case Four tries to escape.
“You’re not.” The smith mutters.
Time sighs deeply, eye closing. “Ok. I’m not. I wasn’t about to watch you die when Sky-”
“Shut up.” Four whispers, eyes flicking briefly to the door.
“Four,” he pleads, and the kid jumps. “You don’t even know what happened. Sky wasn’t in the cell when we found Time, he wasn’t with you, you were actively bleeding out, we looked for him briefly but-”
“You should’ve found him, no one cares if I-”
“BUT chances were he was in much better condition than you were!” He continues over the smith.
“You didn’t know that.” Four says, voice flat.
The kid’s fighting tears back. Good- the kid needs to process things somehow. If this is how it’s gonna happen… so be it.
“We didn’t, but-”
“If it were Wind you would’ve torn the base apart looking for him.” Four whispers, voice shaking. Then looks at Time for the first time. “If it were Twi you’d want to be the one left behind.”
The old man physically flinches.
“You don’t get to choose-” the smith’s voice breaks, and the kid stands quickly. “You promised me.”
Four’s hands jump to his eyes, scrubbing furiously at them. “You promised me. And you lied.”
He stands, too, moving slowly to the smith.
“I am sorry for that, Four. But I could never live with myself if you had died.”
Tears drop down Four’s cheeks.
“And if Sky had? If he still does?” Four chokes, grey eyes flicking to the bed again.
“I still-”
“You don’t get to play god. You don’t get to choose who dies and who doesn’t-”
Four’s voice breaks again, and then the kid is just crying.
“You promised and you still lied to me.” Four chokes, staring at Time with pure hurt.
Time slowly moves to sit in the chair Four had abandoned, meeting the kid’s gaze.
“I never intended to hurt you, Four.” Time says softly. “I took a risk- I was hoping Wars or Legend had found him, and when they didn’t… you had deteriorated so quickly. We had to get going right then. We took a risk- as far as we knew, Sky wasn’t injured badly. You were. I won’t ask for your forgiveness- I only ask for your understanding. We took a risk, and I’m not sorry for saving you. But I am sorry for the pain that choice caused you and breaking my promise.”
Four scrubs at his eyes again, sniffling.
Tries to talk, but he only manages a choking noise before the kid is just bawling.
Knees on the floor, arms around himself, face tucked into his arms to hide it.
He stands quickly and kneels next to the smithy, putting a soft hand on his back.
Which quickly turns into the kid curling into his chest, arms around him.
“Shh…” he whispers as Four cries. “I’ve got you, buddy. It’s ok. It’s gonna be ok.”
“This is all my fault.” Four sobs, and he freezes.
Then grabs Four tightly, startling the poor kid, crushing him tightly to his chest.
“No. No, you listen here. This is not your fault. You hear me? Everything was way outside of your control- no part of this was your fault. I promise you- you trust me, right? This was not your fault.”
Four chokes weakly, face pressing into his chest.
Hands weakly grabbing his tunic, sniffling sharply.
“I promise you.” He says, much more softly. “There was no part of this that was your fault. You didn’t choose to be captured and tortured. You didn’t choose any of this. It isn’t your fault. And I’ll say it as many times as you need to hear it, ok?”
Four finally gives a weak nod, pulling back just enough to wipe his eyes, then sinks back into him.
And they sit there, supporting each other in silence.
~~~~
Sky wakes up slowly.
Much… nicer than when he had before.
Not nearly as much pain, just some lingering soreness… and he’s on a comfortable bed.
Four sits next to him, in a chair next to the bed.
Eyes locked on him, looking… nervous.
“Four.” He rasps, trying for a smile. He bursts into tears instead, startling the hell out of the poor boy.
Then Four’s fretting over him in a panic, asking if he’s hurt, what he needs, should he get Wars-
“You’re ok?” He sobs, grasping Four’s arm tightly before the kid can move.
Four nods, blinking oddly. Another nod, and Four makes an odd noise. Like a squeak.
He coughs, Four slowly helping him sit up and drink a bit of water.
“Yeah.” Four says softly, slowly taking his hand once he leans back again. “Yeah.”
He wipes his eyes, nodding.
Four still hovers, watching.
“It’s ok… c’mere, Four.” He chokes, patting the bed next to him and carefully scooting to the side. “We’re ok, we’re…” his voice breaks again, and he almost laughs.
Four joins him without hesitation, curling into his side with a shaking breath.
He slowly hugs his friend, rubbing his back. “Hey… hey, what is it?” He asks softly, and Four chokes.
“Nothing, it’s nothing, I’m fine-” Four cuts off weakly, swallowing thickly.
“Hey… hey, talk to me, what’s going on?” He asks softly, and Four sniffles.
Silence. He looks down at the teenager, worried-
“ ‘m sorry.” Four whispers suddenly, voice choked.
“No… no, no no, kiddo, you have nothing to be sorry for. You didn’t do anything wrong, ok? I promise.”
“They hurt you cuz of me- because I got hurt and had to leave- ‘n they didn’t try to find you-”
“Shh… breathe, kiddo. Just breathe. It’s not your fault. I promise, ok? You did nothing wrong. I’m glad you’re ok, and that’s all. I’d never forgive myself if anything happened to you if you were… I’m just glad you’re ok.”
Four sniffles again, but nods slowly.
Then- “Love you.” The kid whispers, making a small gulping sound.
He squeezes the kid tighter, blinking yet more tears out of his eyes. “I love you too, kiddo.”
~~~~
Sky doesn’t have another seizure.
He improves rapidly, much to all of their relief.
He grows more comfortable, the lethargy wearing off, gets back to walking around, eating with them…
The skyloftian clings to Time and Four in particular.
Time still tends to stick to himself- never one for intimacy like that- but Four…
Four won’t leave Sky alone.
The smith follows the skyloftian around as often as he can, sitting next to him during meals, sharing the room and eventually even bed when Sky assures the kid he’s ok with it, and doesn’t sleep well unless Sky’s nearby.
Sky seems to enjoy it, never pushing the smith away and seeming… happy.
Their both dealing with their kidnapping and torture, but… he’s glad they can find comfort in each other.
Always has an arm around the kid, or his sailcloth, letting Four lean on his side when they rest…
Sky in particular struggles with nightmares and flashbacks, which Four helps with. A lot.
He confesses once, in a shaky whisper, that Four’s screams haunt him. The ugly scar on Four’s side that Sky’s eyes linger on, Four’s hand lingers on when the skin is exposed… and Four sleeps curled up on that side. Protecting it.
It’s a sad realization that Sky actually points out without meaning to.
Four’s drifted off early, curled up with his head on Sky’s leg, and the skyloftian casually asks “Is that the side he was cut open on?”
They all pause to look at the kid, and he nods slowly.
“Yeah. The side he’s curled around? Yeah… see the stitching in his tunic? From being repaired. That’s the side. Weird he sleeps on it, wouldn’t that hurt?”
“He always sleeps on that side. Won’t sleep otherwise. It’s like he’s protecting it- see how his arms are?”
Dead silence as they all realize this.
He slowly shifts Four to undo the belt the kid wears all the time, slowly pulling his tunic up-
“What are you doing? Wars?” Sky protests quietly.
“Making sure nothings wrong with it.” He says equally quietly, and that silences the group.
It looks fine, just a long gash of scabbing from his rib cage to his hip. Hyrule gently prods it, checking for tenderness and other signs of internal bleeding, reporting that there’s nothing.
So he’s not in pain. Probably.
Just… well, traumatized.
Sky helps him pull the kid’s tunic off, taking his headband and boots off so they can actually put him to bed. Unsurprisingly, Sky goes with him.
He carries the smith, waking past Legend, setting him gently on the bed when he gets to the room Four and Sky had been sharing.
Knees tucked up to his chest, arms wrapped around his stomach where the cut was.
“How the hell can he sleep like that?” Legend says, having followed him to the room.
Sky gets ready for bed, too, giving a small smile at them.
He has to laugh. “Right? Looks crazy uncomfortable.”
They watch the pair for a moment, then he sighs and leaves the room with the veteran.
“Think they’re gonna be ok?” Legend asks, uncharacteristically uncertain.
He takes a glance at the veteran, then nods his head.
Starts down the hall to his room, stretching slightly.
“Yeah. Yeah, they’re gonna be just fine.”
~~~~
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hootbon · 6 months ago
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Tumblr user Hootbon I have a Ragaribbons thought that's been rattling around in my head for a while (this was originally a thought for the canon girls but it could probably be used for ur freakshow AU kshajsh)
ok so. at some point during an adventure or something, Ragatha gets really badly hurt (think like in that one official concept sketch of her where her torsos cut open. but I digress) and Gangle finds her. Gangle, as a way of trying to help out Ragatha, coils her own ribbons around the injury as makeshift bandages
idk I thought it'd be really cute for hurt/comfort or something :3
I find it so funny when people refer to me like that
‘Tumblr user Hootbon’
But I agree, 100% has happened no doubt in my mind
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pygmi-cygni · 8 days ago
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oh honey.. I'm back
im so sorry, I have too many thoughts in my brain and ONE OF THEM includes a huge audition i have coming up for theater!! uh oh spaghetti-o
I've been contemplating dropping it (I won't, im just acting like a coward)
BUT! it would be amazing with a beautiful red fat cherry on top if you could write something with Club!Blue or Nathan with a reader who has a (life changing) event coming up and how they'd deal with them being really anxious!!
Could be a little bit of angst/comfort with a panic attack or just straight how they'd deal with it, whatever you wish :3
Tysm gorgeous!! No rush and again I am so sorry for flooding your inbox 💔
oh my gosh good luck! auditions are scary but they're over so fast, it'll be ok
cw: panic attack, nathan's amazing sympathy *cough*, hurt/comfort, fem reader
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His shadow tickled the tip of your nose. Nathan stood in front of the table you were currently hiding under, drumming his thumbs on the tabletop. It sounded like heavy rain through the heavy blanket pulled tightly around your ears. Soothing, almost.
God, you felt like a wrung-out rag. Your eyes were drier than a desert, but your cheeks were swollen from the amount of crying you'd been doing. Your hands were trembling so hard your teeth chattered.
Deep breaths.
"So....is this a new thinking strategy? Seems a little claustrophobic, cupcake," Nathan said drily, bending over to peer at your teary-eyed face.
"F-ffuck off," you sniffled wearily, scooting to press your face against the wall. You couldn't deal with him and all of his Nathan-ness right now. Not when your first interview was tomorrow and the stress wanted to rip right through your chest.
Thump. You jumped at the feeling of something pressing on your back, yelping and jerking away. Nathan swore, the rattle of his head against the table leg sending you sprawling sideways.
"Hey, c'mere, ah fuck- do we have to be under a table?" He grimaced, rubbing the bridge of his nose. You blinked, bewildered, as he crept under the dining table and curled around you. He sighed, resting his scruffy chin on your blanketed shoulder.
"It's that thing, huh?"
You nodded weakly, a shuddering wave of tremors wracking through you. Nathan squeezed a little tighter, grunting as he pulled you into his lap.
"Did you study the rubrics they gave you?"
A nod and a sniffle. Nathan used the edge of his sleeve to gently wipe your nose.
"What about the locations and possible transfers?"
Another nod.
"How do you feel about your resume?"
"Good," you muttered, settling against his chest. The adrenaline had faded, and you wanted to sleep for a thousand years.
Nathan hummed, leaning against the wall. "So....what's the hang up?"
"The what?"
"Why are you burrito-ing under a table in the most god-awful throw blanket I've ever seen?" He said bluntly, tugging at a lock of your hair. You laughed groggily and wiped your eyes.
"I dunno," you sighed, "it's just...what if I have to wait another year until an opportunity shows up?"
"That's be fuckin stupid if you didn't get hired."
"Yeah, but-"
"I mean, for fuck's sake, you've been doing this how long? You'll be fine. I bet the crying isn't gonna help," he snorted.
You scowled.
"Well? Do you feel better?"
"...No."
Nathan smirked. "Told you."
Extending your blanket to draw him in, you linked pinkies. You saw through his blunt, tough words. He cared. Why else would he be tearing up his lower back for you?
"You're helping," you whispered.
He pressed a kiss to your forehead. "Go get 'em, tiger."
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good luck at your audition!!
@krakenkitty @ominoose @bulletgoth @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @justsomeonecalledemma
@iolaussharpe-24 @rosegnome @twwcs @heeheehoohoofictimr @steven-grants-world
@ael-xander @to-be-a-sunshine @weasleyswizarding-wheezes @silvernight-m @lonelyisamyw-0love @unear7hly
@chaithetics
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