#PLEASE READ THE TW WE ARE ABOUT TO REACH THE BAD PART

[hahahahahangst]

My own Rihanna (Be The Young 21)

GIANT TW which will be valid for each episode for suicidal thoughts, self-h*rm, violence, cursing, relatives dying, mentions of s*x, s*xual assault

All chapter titles are song titles, some of them translated from Italian songs. We start from the first season and make out way through the series. I will break canon (mostly from the S2 finale) but will try to get back into it for the sake of ✨ lore ✨ .

Summary: Emily's life used to be normal. Until one day, her family died, leaving behind just one letter.

"After reading this whole letter, call John Winchester. [...] He’s your real father."

A/N: Yeah. I’m sorry for this one. And for the next one. Like... I’m sorry....

MASTERLIST

My own Rihanna

Everything ends, it’s not love but the fact we’re both hurt that keeps us together We were not two halves, we were two wholes And so we were incompatible together I didn’t love you like crazy, I went crazy to love you What am I supposed to demonstrate if you don’t even look at me We’re two monsters You spent more time being afraid of losing me than actually enjoying our time

Emily was unsure of how she ended up where she was. 

One day she woke up and she was in a house, in the middle of nowhere, with a lot of other people around who all seemed to have powers like hers. With no way of contacting her brothers, she had to take matters into her own hands and guide the very unlikely group of “chosen children'' that was formed in that abandoned city. She tried to pretend to be strong and not afraid, in control, but she was slowly spiraling, not having any idea of what they were up against or how to get out of there, especially as Ava grew more and more nervous and upset.

Sam joined them the following day. 

When she saw him appear in the room, she could do nothing but hug him. She could feel how scared he was, but there was also a hint of relief from finally finding her. It was good to have their power back and after weeks, it actually started feeling less weird and intrusive. It just became a fact that if they were feeling something intense, the other person would feel it too. 

On the night she was reunited with Sam, the yellow-eyed demon spoke to her in her dreams. He raved and raved about how much more powerful than everybody else she was, about how she should be the winner of his “contest“, because she was “special”.

“Technically, you’ve already won once.” He said, shrugging. “I just want to see if you can win again.”  Then, he showed her the night he chose her. 

“You see, getting all that blood out of me wasn’t easy. But I needed to see what would happen if I overpowered you. The other people in this town… they only got a couple of drops. More than enough to mess you up, but you and the rest of your group… Oh, the things you could have done.” 

“You know that demons lie of the time, right?” Said Sam as she talked to him about all this. They were walking outside the building, making sure nobody else had arrived and that they didn't have any unwanted guests. 

 “I know, but… what if it's true? I mean, Meg also mentioned it.”

“Maybe he's trying to put us against each other?”

“Yeah, maybe.” She exhaled. “Sam, I'm going to check on Ava, will you be okay out here?” 

The rest of the memories she had of that day were confused, scattered, but mostly painful. 

In any way possible. That was the last time she saw him alive.

Dean arrived too late. 

Emily had been trying to keep Sam alive for almost an hour. Everybody else was dead. Her knife was still in Jake, who Emily had repeatedly stabbed, screaming. He now laid on the ground, a pool of blood slowly soaking into the dirt. Everybody else was dead. It was just Emily.  

A pool of blood was also forming around Sam. All of Emily's attempts at keeping him alive were failing. 

“Don't worry Sam, you'll be alright, I am sure Dean will be here soon and he will know what to do.” She kept whispering as she covered his wound with one hand and tried to keep his heart beating with the other one. “He’ll know what to do.” She said, “He will save you.” There was nothing to do. Sam had been stabbed from side to side. There was no way of keeping the blood inside of him. Emily knew it.

She knew he was dead. He had been for a while. His heart stopped beating, his lungs stopped working. The blade went through his spine. The bottom half of her body and her forearms were completely covered in blood, the border between hers, Sam's and Jake's becoming indistinguishable the more it dried on her. 

When she heard Dean's voice, she had already given up. She was kneeling next to Sam, her head on his chest, squeezing his lifeless hand. She wasn’t even crying anymore, her voice lost in all the screaming she had already done.

She did not dare to talk. She drove back by herself, trying to keep up with Dean's reckless turns and speed. When they got back at Bobby's, she looked at Dean from a distance. 

She knew perfectly well that a small word, a breath too loud, would ignite a fight she did not want to have. Not then, not there.

Not anymore.

Sam was dead because of her. Because of her distraction.

She left him alone. She should have never left him alone. It was all her fault. 

She thought it and she was sure Dean thought it too. 

Nobody spoke for the rest of the night. Emily sat on the couch, looking at Dean's every move. She tried to cry as quietly as possible. 

She didn't wash her body or her clothes, the stench of the dried blood perpetually making its way into her lungs. 

The fried chicken Bobby brought back remained untouched. 

Emily dared to move only when she saw Dean opening up the second whiskey bottle of the night. She stood up, pretending to be confident and holding her breath to stop her sobbing. She walked to the table and slid the bottle away from Dean’s hands. Emily poured herself a big glass of whiskey and tentatively sat down next to Dean. 

He briefly looked at her, but didn't say anything. 

Emily looked at Sam's body. All she wanted was for him to pop up into her head and say something witty and wise, something along the lines of “you should talk with Dean, it will help”. Something that, she was sure, would have annoyed her. 

“Dean, I-” She tried to say.

“Shut up.” He immediately interrupted her, his knuckles whitening as he held his glass a little tighter. 

Emily looked at him. What was she thinking, sitting there like that? How could she ever even think for a split second of being normal siblings for one day? She stood up, nervous. “Okay, I'll-” she started, taking one step towards the main room. 

“GOD DAMMIT I SAID SHUT UP, NOT LEAVE!” Yelled Dean, grabbing her from her wrist and making Emily stop in the middle of the step, startled. She looked over to him, tears already filling her eyes. Dean let go of her wrist as if it was made of fire. “Sorry- Just… just sit down. Please.” His voice was filled with regret.

Emily made her way back to her chair. She took a deep breath. 

It's not a good time to fight.

It's not a good time to cry. 

She kept repeating in her mind. 

A couple hours of silence later, Bobby showed up again, with the same, cold, soggy chicken he had already offered them twice. 

They refused in unison. 

“You should eat something.” He said. Emily was trying to find a polite way to send him his way, but Dean had, of course, other plans. 

“I said I am fine.” He said, sharp. 

“Dean, I hate to bring this up, I really do,“ he said, putting down the chicken. Emily tried to signal him to stop, already knowing what he wanted to ask, but he either didn't see or ignored her. “But don't you think maybe it's time… we bury Sam?” 

A window basically exploded on Emily's right. Nobody even questioned or reacted to it, but Emily knew full well it was her. It wasn’t the first time she was having trouble controlling her powers when she was upset. 

“No.” Simply said Dean, going back to his glass of whiskey. 

“Maybe we could…“ 

“What? Torch his corpse? Not yet.” 

The glass in Emily's hand exploded, cutting her. She was only able to mutter a slight profanity before Bobby spoke again. “I want you to come with me, I don't think you should be alone.”

“I'm not alone, Emily is here.”

“Right, so instead of killing yourself, you kill each other? How is that of any help?” Dean stood up, but Emily immediately grabbed his jacket and dragged him back down. Surprisingly, he opposed no resistance and just fell back onto the chair. 

“Bobby, just go, okay? We'll be fine.” Said Emily, firmly holding Dean's forearm. The old man took two steps to the side of the door, so that only Emily could see him, and signaled her to come. She walked out of the room and closed the door behind her, Dean scowling at her every step. 

“Listen, something is going down. Something apocalyptic. I could use your help.”

“Bobby, no. You are right, Dean shouldn’t be here alone. We'll be fine. Really. You go.” The man patted her shoulder and left. Emily went back in the room and sat next to Dean, who was sniffing and hiding his face. 

All of a sudden, Emily remembered what Sam said to her in the hospital, when Dean was dying. “Just do it.” 

It took her a big dose of courage, she wasn't even sure why it was so hard, but she finally put her hand on Dean's shoulder. At first, he seemed startled. He froze under the touch. But after a handful of seconds, she felt his body relax slightly and he put his own hand on hers. 

For a split second she thought that maybe… everything was going to be okay. 

When night arrived, the yellow-eyed demon appeared in front of her. She stood up, alarmed. Dean stayed exactly where he saw and when Emily checked again, she noticed that her body did too. It was like a weird dream. 

She instinctively pointed her gun at the demon. He smiled.

“Howdy, Emily.” 

She didn't answer, but kept pointing the gun at him, conscious that it would have done nothing. “You wanna put that away?” 

He stood there, silently, until Emily finally lowered her gun. “Congratulations, by the way. You are the last man standing. Again.”

“Bite me.” She said, bitter. 

“Oh come on, don't be like that. I was rooting for you!” 

“Did you at least have fun?” She snapped. “Was it really necessary? For Sam to die?” 

“I needed the strongest and I didn't want to settle for the silver medal. I want the golden champion, and that's you.”

“What do you even need me for?” 

“Oh, I got a laundry list of things for you to do…“

“Yeah right. As if I would follow any of your orders.”

“What are you going to do, kill me?”

“I don't know, I might.”

“You have failed once, what makes you think you would succeed this time?” He smirked. “Besides… If you help me, I'll help you.” He said. Pointing at Sam. 

“Define… help.” 

“I might bring your brother back. Imagine… all would be forgiven. Your brother Dean, you secretly idolize him, don't you?” Emily scoffed. “Darling, no need to lie to me, I see inside of you. Just imagine- He would forgive you for letting Sam die like this. Maybe… Maybe he might also tell you that he's proud of you. He might be just like the Dean you dreamt about in the djinn’s hallucination.” 

Emily swallowed, staring at Dean's frozen image, crying over his brother. 

She knew it was not a good idea, but it was still an idea. The only one she had all night.

If she could bring Sam back, all would have been forgiven, all would have been solved. 

“What do I need to do?” She asked. 

Emily closed her eyes one second too long and fell asleep. When she opened them again, Dean was not next to her anymore. She ran out of the kitchen doors and saw him about to leave. 

“Going somewhere?” She asked. 

“I-'' Dean tried to speak, but was interrupted by the door slamming behind him. That time, Emily did it on purpose, because she had seen what he had in his hand. She made sure she also made the key turn and flew directly in her hand. “What is that?!” He pointed at the metal box he was holding.

“None of your business.” He spat. 

Emily quickly walked over to him. “I have read every single book in this room, you think I don’t recognize it?” She said, enraged. “You are selling your soul, aren’t you?'

“It's my soul, I can do whatever I want with it.” 

“You sick…“ spat Emily, pushing Dean against the wall, adding a new adjective to each step. ”... unaffectionate, egoistic bastard.” Dean let the box fall when he finally hit the wall. Emily kicked it behind her. “Have you already forgotten how it felt when dad did the same for you?!” 

“You really don't understand, do you?!” 

“I don't-'' She repeated, exasperated, closing her left hand into a fist as she kept Dean pinned against the wall with the other one “What am I supposed to do, uh?” Dean rolled his eyes. “Just watch you kill yourself? The grip she had on him was getting so tight she lifted him a couple of inches off the ground.

“Honestly? I don't care.” He said, cold. Emily punched him. He barely reacted. She hit him again, bursting into tears immediately after. “Is this how much you really care about me?” She said, “What am I supposed to do once you die?” 

“You can go back to Portland and live your dream life, I don’t really care.”. Emily could not resist the urge of punching him yet again. 

“What about you stop trying to kill yourself?” She yelled. “The virus thing first, now this! What on earth has happened to you?”  

“Emily, you are the only thing standing between me and a world where Sam is not dead.”

“I swear to god“ Emily pushed Dean further into the wall, which she heard crack under the pressure. ”... you will have to step over my dead body to get out that door.” 

“Don’t… challenge me.” Emily threw Dean away from the wall and pushed him on the floor. 

“So that’s it, uh?” She said, trying her best to not get interrupted by her sobbing, which was slowly closing down her nose. “You’d rather have me dead than having to spend the rest of your life alone with me?” She tried to kick him in the stomach but only managed to get to his shins. “So much for being my brother.” Emily turned her back to her brother and leaned towards the window next to the door. She placed her head on the cold glass as she heard her brother stand back up. “Dean, there has to be another way!” 

“There isn’t.” 

“DID YOU EVEN TRY LOOKING?!” She yelled, turning to push him towards the opposite wall. His gaze suddenly turned to anger. “Or did you just go with the most self destructive solution of them all?” She was expecting a punch. She stared at him for a couple of seconds before starting to yell again. “LOOK AT YOU! Goddamit, Dean, I have been hitting you for ten minutes and you haven’t even reacted yet!”

“Don’t-” 

“STOP - TALKING!” She said, punching the wall next to Dean’s head. “The Dean I know would have punched me already- I SAID SHUT UP!” She screamed as he saw him opening his mouth again. “I DON’T NEED YOU TO TAKE ALL MY PUNCHES, I NEED MY BROTHER!”

“I AM NOT YOUR BROTHER!” He finally snapped back. Emily’s body froze for a second, a window exploded and only then, she let go of him. Her face turned emotionless. 

It was all for nothing. 

She had been suffering for years, trying to bond, listening to Sam saying “You just need to get over the fear of getting attached to each other“ and trying to believe it, all for someone who didn’t even consider her family. 

“Right.” She whispered, drying her face. “Of course. How could I ever think something like that.” She took the key to the door out of her jeans pocket and threw it on the table. 

“You know what?” She continued, not even trying to hide her crying anymore. “Have it your way. Kill yourself. I don’t care anymore.” She swallowed the actual words she wanted to say. Just be my brother. I care about you. I can’t be alone right now. Don’t let me walk out that door. Please care about me.

She opened the door. 

Just say something. 

A word. 

Just one. 

Give me one reason to stay.

“It’s all your fault.” 

Definitely not the words Emily wanted to hear. 

She left the house and sat in the same stolen car she had used to go back there. 

She drove to Fall Parks and sat on a bench. 

That was it. 

That was the night she was going to kill herself. 

She had nothing left to live for. 

“Now, now, don’t be like that.” Said a voice next to her, startling her. The demon had appeared next to Emily. “I am sure it’s nothing bringing back Sam can’t fix.” He smiled suggestively. 

“No. I am not helping you.” 

“What are you going to do then?” 

“None of your business.” 

“Oh, come on, I am literally the only person who would talk to you right now.” He looked at her, sympathetically. 

“Very funny. Can you leave?” 

“I was thinking…“ he started, completely ignoring her request. “If you are about to kill yourself, why not die while trying to get your brother back? Maybe Dean could change his mind about you not being part of the family.” Emily finally met his yellow gaze. “Of course, bringing back Sam would be something so big… Dean would have no choice than to love you back, right? Damn, he might even start worrying about you just like he does for Sam.” 

Emily was unsure. Did she really want to have anything to do with Dean anymore? 

All she wanted for all of it to stop. To never have to worry about that again. 

To take a sharp object and trace a long, vertical line on her forearm. One that would last forever. 

“Emily, the life you have always dreamed about, the one where Dean always eats your pie and hugs you when you are down, the life where you are not the family disappointment… The key to get that is just to bring Sam back.” She swallowed, trying to rationalize what he was saying. “You would become Dean’s favorite. He would never dare to hurt you ever again.” 

Fuck it.

“Okay. I am in.”

[yurunivo]

Hello! I'm not sure if i'm the one but can we get some more Mavuika x Creator! Reader (gender neutral) in which the creator is falling deeply in love with Mavuika and the creator is slowly getting his/hers/their memories back and awakening a little bit of power (like maybe aweking some unique element or getting better healing abilities) ?

I'm pretty sure you were the one yea. Sorry for not answering sooner I just had no motivation to write 😭

Synopsis: your time with Mavuika! (And "your" past) part 1 part 2 part 4

TW: slight angst, fluff, OOC, arguements, reader is referred to as they/them for easier use but gender is up to what you interpret as, bad writing, bad grammar, english is not my first language, slightly rushed at the end, not proofread

Characters: Mavuika x gn!creator!reader

"Please don't walk through the halls, our Archon is busy-"

"I just have a word with her, that's all."

The receptionist sighed as you glared at her and walked off. You've had a bad week, constantly getting excruciatingly painful headaches and nightmares which make you wake up in a cold sweat. What made it worse that you couldn't really remember them when you woke up, which made it all the more frustrating. That, along with the fact that your boss was giving you more work than usual was making you snappy and irritated all the time. The even more strange thing was the fact that you were seeking out Mavuika, almost as if she was a pinicle of warmth in a snowy wasteland, so you did eventually visit her.

As you reached her office door, gloved hands gently pushed it open to see her inside. Your eyes softened, and you could feel your stress slipping away. She was sleeping though, her head on a pile of documents.

"That's.. Strange. Normally she would spend a lot of time with me, did she ignore all this work just for me?" You thought to yourself. However, instead of peaking over, you decided to sit in a sofa next to her table.

Curiosity did get the better of you though.

You skipped over to her desk and found loads of papers from different nations, which was really strange considering Mavuika was more busy dealing with Natlan's problems. You picked up a few documents and read them, cringing at the insignia of the other nations.

As you kept reading, you got more confused, and certainly more angry.

"Death threats, intimidation and war threats to Natlan, and Sumeru is asking for an alliance? What the hell is going on?!" You exclaimed, not noticing how Mavuika woke up. As you were about to read more, she snatched the papers from you, and looked at you with an expression you couldn't read.

"You weren't supposed to see that."

"Well I did, too bad. Now mind explaining what the hell is this?"

She didn't answer, and you felt your patience running thin. You didn't want to raise your voice at her, but the frustration of her not telling you was too much to handle. Still, you managed to control yourself, taking deep breaths.

"I'm not going to repeat myself, what is this?"

She paused, and for a moment, she contemplated whether she would tell you or not. Guilt was on her face, yet she finally told you.

"The other nations want you back for whatever reason, and they are threatening to add more to Natlan's plate by instituting a war. Sumeru is offering to help, but that's the only consolation I have," she breathed out. Your eyes softened, and your lips trembled. Seeing Mavuika like this was making you feel negative, especially since it was about you.

You picked up her hand and held it gently, but it was also firm. You didn't know what you could really do to help, considering that you were the one that they were after.

"Listen Mavuika, I am your creator, so I should have the right to know about all this, no? I may not be strong, but it's not like I'm completely useless," you held her hand against your forehead, both of you looking away from each other.

Feeling the need to lighten her pile of work, you let her go for a moment, going up to her desk and setting up the documents. You didn't look at her, nor did she look at you.

"I'll help," you spoke up.

"You don't need to."

"I insist."

She sighed, yet reluctantly went up to you to do the same. She knew that you wouldn't really change your mind, so there was really no point in arguing any further.

For the past couple of weeks, you were there to help Mavuika. You were always at her beck and call, skipping your work to help with hers. The only thing you did however was confiscate useless documents, sign the ones that she couldn't, and carry piles of work to warehouses.

As you were walking through the place, whistling to yourself, you realized that you had just passed the place that you were supposed to be in. Noticing your mistake, you ran to that place in exasperation, not noticing how a gust of wind helped you to run faster..

"Why do I keep forgetting this shit?.." You rubbed your temples, setting the box down. Looking at all the shelves, you deadpanned at the realization that the shelves were much higher than you anticipated.

"I should've brought a ladder.." You mumbled.

Then suddenly, without any explanation, a pillar of Geo helped you up, slowly rising to the shelves. The revelation almost made you scream, but you kept it in. You were really high up, and the fact that you didn't know what was happening made it even more terrifying. Was this Zhongli's doing? To taunt you before he came to hunt you again? You couldn't really tell, the only thought running in your head was how the hell would you get down.

The even stranger thing that happened was that a gust of wind separated the boxes and placed the one that you brought without you needing to use your hands. It might've been the Anemo Archon, but the fact that if it was, he would probably not help you with anything. He would most likely make you fall instead, taunting you like Zhongli. But it didn't really make any sense. How the hell would they even reach you all the way from Natlan?

As the pillar mounted you down, you were about to run to reach Mavuika, but your temperature rose uncomfortably high, which was very unusual. The sudden change made you collapse onto the ground, golden blood seeping out of your nose. You felt yourself getting light headed as you struggled to keep yourself awake.

"Not now god dammit!" You exclaimed in your head as your vision turned blank, losing your consciousness.

....

Where were you?

You held your head, groaning at the painful sensation. You got a clearer look at your surroundings, notifying you that you weren't in Natlan. No, this place was nothing like Natlan. It was more regal, the entire place being covered by intricate gold designs. You explored the place for a bit, still trying to figure out what happened.

You walked around, then suddenly, you saw a projection in front of you. Okay, it at least confirmed that you were in a dream. But when the projection finished appearing, you saw someone whom you didn't expect to see.

It was... Nahida?

"Greetings your grace," she bowed, and you just told her to stand back up.

"Kusanali? What are you doing here?" You raised an eyebrow. Seriously today was one of the most craziest days of your life, more than when you realized that you were in the Genshin world.

"I have been trying to speak with you, your grace. It was very hard, I admit, and I may or may not have caused those nightmares, I am really sorry about that." Oh, so that's why these horrible dreams happened, and why you couldn't remember them. You smiled awkwardly, knowing that you would forgive her anyway. After all, she was the first to actually help you in this world.

"What did you need to speak with me for?" You asked.

"It's about the other nations, I want to inform you that they are currently on the hunt for you, and want you back into the position of creator," she answered, and now there were even more questions in your head. What was the strange switch up for?

"But I must ask your grace, is this what you really dream of, your throne room?" She pointed at the giant throne at the back, and you quickly went to answer.

"No, I don't dream about anything like this," you replied back in confusion. Right, was this supposed to be normal?

When you turned around to ask Nahida a question again, she was gone. Was she hiding? No, she was completely gone, you couldn't feel her presence any where, almost as if she was forced out of your dream.

You looked around more and more, only to realize that there was a carbon copy of you on the throne.

They looked exactly like you, except more regal, and more intimidating than what you could ever be. However, you did notice that they were... Crying? Tears were definitely spilling out of her eyes, yet their expression stayed the same.

Yea this was weird.

You looked around again to see the Archons behind you. You flinched at the sight, however, they weren't looking at you, rather they were looking at what you could assume to be the previous creator. Their expression was one of pity, and in almost half a second, they attacked the creator. Yet that "you" didn't move a muscle, allowing them to get a hit. As you stared at the throne, there was golden blood seeping out, yet the creator was as hard as stone.

They had sealed the creator.

....

You woke up with a gasp, feeling sweaty and uncomfortable. Looking at your hands, you saw they were trembling. Your throat felt dry, way too dry for your liking. As you reached out for the nearest liquid next to you, your hands landed on a cup of tea, which you picked up and drank immediately. You calmed down a bit, reminiscing on what you just experienced.

"So that's what happened, I wonder why.." You mumbled. You finally payed attention to where you were, and saw that you were back in Mavuika's office. Huh, you didn't remember being here last.

Finally paying attention to what was next to you, you saw a tray on a stool, and some food on it. The tea you drank just now was probably from that tray.

Your eyes wandered, and it stumbled upon Mavuika. She was on a chair too, yet she was sleeping, her arms crossed. As multiple ideas went through your head, it finally clicked.

"Was she taking care of me?" You thought, yet you were too much in a trance to wake her up and ask her. Your cheeks were flushed, and you felt them getting warmer.

You wondered what this feeling was, the way your heart started beating faster and how you felt all giddy inside.

"Ah whatever, I'll figure it out soon," you muttered, oblivious to your own feelings.

Sorry I didn't include the abilities part too much, I was more focused on the creator and Mavuika's relationship 😓

[moonlight-prose]

RIGHT WHERE YOU LEFT ME

➛ 06. TIME CAN NEVER MEND

a/n: so before you dive into this i'm gonna warn you that it's not happy. we have reached the level of angst needed to start this story on it's final arc. the one that changes basically everything. i've put a lot of angst into this, because that's what it called for and well...if you've been here for awhile you know i love my angst. i'm sorry beforehand and can promise a happy ending. but these two have to suffer first.

summary: logan howlett is happy. he's content. by all definitions...he's found the reason for why he's still alive and it all leads down to you. yet time is a fickle and cruel being and she's decided his time for peace must come to an end.

word count: 7k+

pairing: logan howlett x f!reader

warnings: EXPLICIT SO MINORS DNI, angst, a heaping of angst so bitter you will yell at me, oral (f receiving), face riding, overstimulation, wade wilson, mutant powers, violence, tw: blood, tw: gore, trauma resurfacing, ptsd, insanity, tw: torture, cliffhanger, BE WARNED PLEASE DON'T SKIP OVER THESE.

PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER | SERIES MASTERLIST

Silence filled his mind, darkness an endless expanse behind his shut eyes. He couldn't remember the last time the world fell quiet. Piercing through him with a serenity he fought his entire life to acquire. Nightmares were an expected routine that came to him constantly with a bitter echo of things he couldn't change; people he never saved.

He couldn't recall sleeping without them. Not since he was a sickly child in his father's house—fighting fevers that were caused by a mutation he didn't know existed.

Eventually the world would rip a part his bubble of safety—expose him to horrors he never thought imaginable. He'd struggle against it. Bite, snarl, fight his way through the pain like an animal who'd been caged for far too long. There would be no light at the end of his tunnel. No peace for the man plagued by promises he longed to break—a vow he didn't intend to make.

Only to be found by the one person he thought was lost to his world.

A love that lingered in the shadows of his heart. Bringing back the flame of a torch that blew out the night he lost everything.

He awoke to the warmth of your body tangled with his. His heart didn't race with the anticipation of a battle that didn't exist. His claws were safely stored away in the depths of his arms, and for the first time...his soul didn't scream in agony for help that would never arrive. You shifted with a puff of air, a grumble building in your throat at the morning chill. He watched in rapture—his fingers trailing down your spine.

The clock read eight in the morning. Plenty of time for you to sleep in given it was your last day off. So Logan remained still in order to not disturb your peace. He sucked in slow breaths as you pressed your cheek to his chest—arm wrapped around his waist and legs tangled with his. Each small shift of your face, the furrow of your brows and quickening of your heart, let him know you were trapped in a dream.

Good or bad he couldn't tell.

What did you dream about? What ran through your mind when sleep washed over your body?

He made a mental note to ask when your eyes finally cracked open. The spell of sleep lost, retreating to the depths of your mind till later. But for now he admired the shape of your face, the lilt in your eyes and curve of your lips. You were a painting come to life. An art piece stolen right off the walls of The Met.

How he managed to wind up here, waking up beside you, continued to baffle him the longer he thought about it.

Surely he committed too many atrocities to deserve this. Too many lives lost by his claws, too much pain wrought by his own actions. He shouldn't be allowed to lay here, holding you close with a reverence that he thought was lost to the tragedies of his past. He once counted the days until his death. Marked them off with a tally that seemed to only grow the longer he went.

Now he thanked whatever higher being existed for giving him this.

For gifting him you.

Another soft grunt left your parted lips, nose scrunching in distaste as you were roused from your sleep. He smiled at the sight of your eyes fluttering open, confusion flickering across your features for mere seconds before it all came rushing back. The time spent with Logan ravishing your body in this very bed, in the shower you shared. The sweetening ache between your thighs that practically called his name.

You sighed, glancing up at him with drowsy glazed eyes and a crooked smile. "Morning," you rasped, voice thick with sleep.

His heart twisted in his chest. A feeling he could only describe as love began to filter through his veins like an IV. Filling him with the fear that usually came with that four letter word—the terror of possibly losing this. He swallowed it down painfully, his hand moving to press at the base of your spine to pull you closer.

"Sleep well?" he rumbled, dipping down to catch your lips in a kiss.

The shower last night left your skin warm to the touch. Logan found he couldn't get enough of it. He curled himself around you, drawing your leg up to hook around his waist as a way to keep your skin against his. You hummed in appreciation, pushing your face up to meet his movements in kind.

Sunlight spilled into the bedroom with a familiar warmth. The window was shut and locked after yesterday's phone call. Yet the muffled echo of the world managed to slip through the cracks in the wood, echoing in your small bubble of serenity he longed to stay in. This felt like a hazy dream. One that clung to the edges of his mind, dripping small slivers of joy into his heart.

Logan longed to remain here. Buried in the bed with you wrapped tightly around him.

Eventually you parted with a soft gasp, your hips shifting subtly to relieve the ache that began to bloom and unfurl in your body. Even though you had more than your fill of him yesterday, you remained insatiable.

He couldn't say he was any better—his cock already twitching in interest. If he had his way neither of you would find the need to leave this bed; far more interested in how many more orgasms he could wring from your still spent body.

"I like this," you murmured against his cheek, fingers delving into his messy hair. "Waking up with you."

"Me too honey." He grinned when you kissed his chin, thumb running along the edge of his jaw.

A soft breath washed along his skin, sending chills down his spine. "How did you sleep?"

"No nightmares."

He felt you smile. "Are you lying to me Howlett?"

Fuck if you weren't the last thing he wanted to see at night and the first thing he was welcomed to in the morning. Something sharp pricked his chest, bleeding him of the doubt that might still remain. Lingering beneath the surface of too many broken promises and shattered versions of I love you.

This happened before. A love so deep he felt it solidify into his very mutant DNA. Back then he thought it would one day come to an end; finalize when he fucked up too many times for you to forgive.

Now he knew there was no end to this road that wound up with him alone. No version of the story where he sat at a bar somewhere in the back roads of nowhere, lamenting about a woman he once wanted to spend forever with. Whether he stayed young and you grew too old; there wouldn’t be a final page without him in your life.

What transpired here would knot the strands of fate together. So if one was sliced for the final vow of death. They both went together.

"I'm not lying," he confessed. "I didn't really dream of anythin' this time around."

You hummed, eyes opening to see the contented shine in his hazel eyes. "Don't tell me. It was because of me."

"I think it might be bub." His teeth nipped at your bottom lip, hand curving to cup your ass. "Guess you're my cure. Been lookin' for awhile."

"My bad Mr. Howlett," you breathed through a soft laugh that clenched around his chest. "I didn't mean to take so long, but you were kind of in a different universe."

"Technicalities."

"Yeah right! Technicalities my ass."

He dragged you across his lap with a muffled groan he pressed to your chest. "Could’ve found me all on your own honey. You just weren't looking properly."

The high gasp that filled the air left him with a gratification worse than his satiated hunger. He longed to devour you with a need that felt primal. As if the animalistic side of his body craved the taste of you spread along his tongue. You were the answer to every fuckin' prayer he sent out. The embodiment of what his heart had been missing.

"You're right." Your words were shaky, eyes growing dark with lust when you felt his cock press against your slick folds. "I'll do better next time."

He growled, low and desperate; his hands now clamping down on your hips until pain flickered beneath the surface of your already tender skin. "There'll be no fuckin' next time."

"No?" The grin on your lips made him leak against your thigh. "I'm sure there's more than one James Howlett in the infinite number of universes. And who knows, you might not be enough to satisfy my insatiable needs."

Rolling to his back, he took you with him, even as you yelped in an attempt to pull away. You were trapped against his body with no chance of escape, yet running from him was never a choice. This was your safe place. Against his body that offered warmth and solace—a promise of more wrapped in a gentle touch and heated kiss.

He tugged you up his body, smacking your ass as you climbed to sit on his chest with a breathless smile. The sight alone made Logan's heart stutter. His eyes wide with awe—a semblance of adoration that existed solely for you.

"Insatiable huh," he mumbled against your thigh. "Alright honey. C'mere then."

"For what?"

His thumbs indented the skin of your hip, a smile curving over his lips. "I haven't had my breakfast yet."

The realization dawned on you slowly. Your eyes widened, scent growing heavy in the air, and Logan longed to stay here for the rest of his life. Beneath the weight of your body on his—the comfort of your hands cupping his face. Your slick pooled on his chest; a sign that you were in fact interested.

"A-Are you sure?" you breathed.

His teeth sunk into your wrist gently, causing you to jolt. "Fair's fair baby."

Your own words caused heat to spill beneath your skin; you shifted—eyes wanton for what was about to come. "Touché."

Shifting up higher with a hesitancy that turned his mind feral, you situated yourself close to his mouth—barely hovering over his face. With a growl, he looped his arms around your thighs and yanked you down. His mouth sealing over your dripping cunt with a moan of satisfaction. The cry that fell from your lips made his cock twitch against his stomach; the heady tang of you exactly what he longed for.

He was messy with it. Devouring you with abandon, tongue slipping through your folds with little grunts that sent sparks down your spine. When he sucked your clit into his mouth you were done for.

"Oh fuck Logan-" The breath caught in your throat, head tipping back with each swipe of his tongue along the pulsating nerve.

Without realizing it, your hips began to drag along his mouth, chasing the quick building release that threatened to drag you under. He growled—fingers a bruising grip on your skin—with each swivel of your hips. High pitched moans echoed in the room loud enough to resonate through the whole of your apartment.

"Please-" Logan watched—eyes drooped and a red flush across his cheeks—as your body curved towards him, your hand gripping the top of your headboard. "'M gonna. Fuck, fuck, fuck-"

His tongue plunged into you, thumb snaking around to rub harshly against your clit. The long drawn out moan he mumbled into your cunt is what finally broke you. Ripping the release from the base of your spine as you cried out—your hips nearly suffocating him with how you pressed down on his tongue.

Aching for whatever he had left to give you.

Logan drank you down with stunted moan, his cock leaking into the trail of hair on his stomach. But he couldn't fucking care about that. Not when you were gifting him with a nectar that would put the gods ichor to shame.

"Oh...baby," you murmured, eyes staring at the way his cock jumped each time his tongue slid against you.

Before he could turn you away—explain that he was okay and push it off as a natural reaction to you—your hand was wrapping around him. The wet slide of his precum now enough to fuck into your fist with ease. He'd allow you to touch him for a few minutes before deterring you the kitchen. Give you a fill of what need still remained.

He was perfectly okay with finishing himself off.

What he didn't expect was your thumb to settle between his balls, rubbing at a spot that made him see white. A broken feral sound echoed against your inner thigh—his teeth clamping into the skin—as he came across your hand. Spilling down onto his stomach and hitting his chest with a withered shout.

You rolled off him, panting and covered in a sheen of sweat. Logan could barely feel his fucking legs.

"The fuck was that?" he rasped, eyes cracking open to blearily see your prideful smile—teeth digging into your bottom lip while you eyed the mess on his torso.

"How'd it feel?"

"Like my fuckin' body isn't workin'."

You giggled, soft and sweet. A stark contrast to the way you made him cum fast enough to put a hole in his heart. He'd never gotten off so quickly. Yet there you sat, leaning against your pillows, and staring at him as if he'd hung all the stars in your night sky.

He very well would have if you asked.

"I can cook this morning," you offered, snuggling back against his side with a contented sigh.

"Just give me a minute honey and I'll get us food."

"You don't have to cook."

He silenced you with a kiss, your body melting into the mattress at the taste of you on his tongue. "Rosemary's. They still sell breakfast?" When you nodded he planted a kiss on your forehead. "Alright. Soon as the feeling in my legs returns I'll get us some food."

"Okay," you laughed with a kiss to his shoulder. "I like the sound of that."

The television blared loud enough to bounce off the neighbors walls. A loud and rather obnoxious theme song for a reality show. A steady stream of muttered cuss words overlapped the music as another piece of wood clattered to the floor. The screws with it scattered on the shitty coffee table found in the back alley of the building.

"Ugh. Don't hand over the rose!" Wade shouted, throwing a handful of popcorn at the screen. "Clearly they don't belong together. For fucks sake. I swear the bachelorette always settles."

Althea sighed, fingers sliding along the wood in search of a single screw that might be near. "I thought you said you wanted to help me with this."

"I am!" he mumbled through a mouthful of popcorn. "Moral support. You're doing great, just a little more to the left. Almooooost got it-"

She grumbled snatching up the silver piece, locating the wood by her feet. "Next time I'm evicting your ass so you can find someone else to annoy."

"Hurtful. Who else would provide you quality entertainment better than moi?"

"A rock."

"Wrong." He shoveled another handful in his mouth. "I've worked with the man. Dwayne ‘The Rock’ Johnson is not as funny as he might appear. And starring in Fast Five doesn't count." His eyes flicker to the side, smile forming around his swollen cheeks. "To be honest I couldn't tell who was who between three bald men. Clearly that franchise has a type."

"Clearly I need a better system."

"Well of course you do. The shelf is upside down. No, the other way. No. The other way-"

A blinding flash of blue light burned through the living room, searing a hole in the hardwood floor. Wade clambered to his feet, gripping the ceramic bowl with white knuckles. His heart hammered in his chest, mouth dry as he scanned the room for some form of defense.

The closest weapon remained his katanas, propped against the door frame leading to his bedroom. He glanced at them—calculating whether to leap now or wait.

A whip ignited in blue sparks flew from the gaping hole in the air, striking his body and forcing him into the air. He hit the wall with a grunt; the bowl now severed in two on the floor.

"What the fuck!" he groaned, stumbling to his feet. "Al! You okay?"

"Who did you piss off this time?" Althea called, gripping her cane as he staggered towards her, leading her to the bedroom.

"Some fucking Asgardian apparently." A quick glance back revealed someone stepping through—their body encased in ripples of sapphire. "God where's Thor when you need him?"

The bedroom door slammed shut, Althea locking herself in as Wade yanked the katanas from their sheaths. He half expected to see the face of a pissed god coming to enact revenge. He felt his body tense as he prepared for a fight. Only for a hood of blue and gold to be pulled back; your face staring directly at him with milky eyes of white.

"You're not Asgardian."

A sneer crossed other you's face as the whip snapped against the floor, rippling in the space around him. He felt it tug along his body, aging his face with spots that wouldn't show up for decades to come. They healed as you pulled the weapong back; the blue wrapping its way up your arm.

"Where is he?" Your voice bled with a bitterness that punched his stomach. An anger he once felt before.

Whoever stood before him now was not the sweet angel he knew. The scarred skin along your body explained enough of what he needed to know. This was a sign of who you once belonged to. Who the humans hunted. The embodiment of time had become their prey, their plaything. You were the lamb given up for slaughter; the lover scorned and tossed to the side by a man who ran to a different universe.

"Mind giving me a name?" Wade knew who you were asking for. But he also knew Logan lay across the street wrapped in the arms of a you who couldn't protect him.

Your eyes narrowed, the flicker of blue flashing in what used to be the iris of your pupil. "I believe you know him as Wolverine. However...I knew him as Logan."

"Right." He gripped the handle of his swords with cold palms—his eyes flicking to the side where his window was pulled wide open. "Have you tried the yellow pages?"

A scream tore from your throat as you charged—whip sliding across the floor to wrap around Wade's legs. He rolled to the side, katana cracking through the floor to steady his movements. He cursed under his breath at the sight of the burn marks that now spread all the way up to his ceiling—the flicker of your whip lifting in air again.

"Listen you Wonder Woman wannabe. I'm sure we can talk this out rather than fucking me in the ass with the deposit of my apartment!"

Your lips curled into a grin—teeth flashing white. Wade could practically feel them dig into his jugular; all too prepared to rip it from his neck if given the chance. This wasn't a battle to see who could make it out alive. This was a warriors death.

This was you being merciful.

"We had a Deadpool like you on my Earth." He tried to dodge the slice of your whip, but felt it clamp down on his arms, yanking them forward as your hand cupped his chin—nails plunging into his cheeks until blood sprouted to the surface. "Annoying. Less than average IQ. I had such fun sending him to the Void."

The dull throb of pain bit at his face the harder you clutched him. Eyes still a flash of sapphire on an otherwise empty pale eyeball. In the picture Logan showed him, this wasn't how you looked.

The scar that ran from your forehead to chin seemed new—barely healed over. You were nothing like how Logan described you. No light in your smile, no hint of hope or joy.

Whatever happened left you buried so deep in grief and pain there was no chance of digging you out.

"On behalf of my people...fair. We aren't intelligent collectively as a group. Individually we're probably...not better. But as Deadpool Prime-"

"Fuck you're even more annoying than your variants," you growled.

The whip looped around his body, growing with heat as blue flickered in his vision—pulling tight each time you wrapped it around your wrist. His wince of pain brought the malevolent smile back to your lips. Your milky white eyes flashing as you watched him intently. Waiting for a sliver of anguish to cross his scarred face.

Instead his body twitched, a groan ripping from his throat. "Is this the lasso of truth?"

You sneered. "It's a slice of time."

"Because yes, I did steal Captain American themed condoms from the gift shop at the Smithsonian. I thought they would make me fuck like Steve Rogers. But instead they just gave me a rash-" His words devolved into a piercing scream—the once bright hue of his eyes now fading the more his body aged.

The katanas clattered to the floor as you drew him closer, wrapping the whip around his arms tight enough to slice off his blood flow. He struggled—face red and teeth bared—to rip himself free. To stop the aging of his body before it was too late.

He'd endured pain before. The travesty of each wound his body would heal over still burned bright in his mind. But this felt as if he was being crushed under the weight of the universe. The strangled scream you pulled from his chest left him sagging against the hold your whip had on his limbs. Eyes bleary with tears as you stepped back and pulled.

Limbs tore from his body, blood pooling on the floor, as his arms were flung across the room. Blue fizzled in his vision, body struggling to stand upright. And you turned with a flourish—the flutter of energy pouring out into the room around you.

"I'm not going to ask again Wade Wilson."

He weakly laughed. "Look Doc Brown I can't help you with your revenge plan."

The tilt of your head shouldn't have looked so innocent. But all he could see—all that ran through his mind—was a version of you that remained loving. Hopeful. The variant who gave Logan a reason to live. Wade wasn't about to let that slip through either of their fingers; you were too vital to give up.

Even if it meant he might never heal from the one wound that threatened to shove him directly into Death's hands.

Time.

It remained his greatest enemy. Yet there he stood, facing it with a smile.

"Pity." You snapped the whip on the floor, advancing on his broken form with a grin. "Send my regards to your fallen variants."

"If I find a way to come back from this. Expect me to fuck your ass up." He sighed, shutting his eyes. "That sounded wrong. Do I get a do-over on last words?"

He stiffened, waiting for the blow that would be delivered without mercy. But you stopped. Froze in place as you looked out the window—body stiff and breath caught in your chest at the sight. Wade's heart dropped when he turned, staring directly at the you he knew. The lovely angel who stood near the window wearing Logan's flannel, a mug of steaming coffee in your hand and a smile on her face.

"Fuck," he spit, moving to step in and block your view.

No words were spoken, but Wade could feel the anger fall from your body in waves. A rage that made him sick to his stomach. Not only did you arrive in search of your lost lover. But a mirror image of a healthier—a happier—version of yourself stood in an apartment across the street.

"Wait. She didn't do anything wrong. She doesn't know anything-"

Your hand flew up, a flash of azure blinded him—filling the room—and Wade felt time stop. He could hear the silence, the step of your feet, yet couldn't move his body as you lifted off the floor. Floating towards the window, you felt the particles of time slip through your fingers. Forming a bubble around your form as you broke the wall of the apartment with a slice of your whip.

The agony wasn't unknown to you as time froze; the people of New York stuck in their spots while you remained in the realm you knew well. Yet this pain—this never ending grief—formed like a pit in your stomach, growing the longer you stared at the person who stole your life. The false version that wore your face, loved the man you once claimed as your own.

You were plunged back into the frozen depths of that night. When your family was torn from your life and Logan left you in shambles.

The window shattered, glass stuck in place until you pushed past it, your feet setting down on the floor of an apartment that smelled eerily like cigar smoke. Logan's flannel hung off your variant's body with such ease. Memories of mornings spent like this, indulging in coffee he made as he went off to teach, left a bitter taste on the back of your tongue.

How dare he discard you to the side.

How dare he love you in another universe when you still lived.

How dare he replace you with a new version, not yet broken by his mistakes.

The tears flowed down your cheeks, hot and unforgiving. Yet you could do nothing but watch as the smile on your variant's face burned bright in the room. He made this version of you happy. Yet couldn't be bothered to remember the mutant you. The one who longed for his touch, for his love.

For his forgiveness.

"He loves you," you murmured, gently touching your variant's cheek. "He loved me once."

Time flickered, a mere second being allowed to pass. But that remained enough. Your variant's eyes flicked up, shock forming in the iris at the sight of a battered and destroyed mirror image stand before you. If the iris of your eyes could be shown, the sorrow would bring the both of you to your knees. The anger that dripped into your heart with a vengeance.

Death didn't seem a kind enough gesture for the version of you that got to live her happily ever after.

You wanted Logan to keep her. To try and save her from the depths of your soon to be shared darkness.

The mark on your neck burned as you stared at the spotless skin. Free from the horrors. Free from a past you'd never endure.

You were perfect.

It made bile crawl up the back of your throat. The fear in your variant's eyes filled your stomach with a satisfaction that you clung to. The first glimpse of dopamine after years of fighting the darkness in your own mind.

Your nails scratched along the skin of your variant's cheeks. Digging into the flesh with a smile.

"Don't worry," you murmured, allowing the shackles you held on time to fall away. The gasp ripped from your variant's mouth as you gripped her. It swirled with joy in your heart. "We'll both make him regret his choice."

The apartment greeted him with a sickening echo of silence. He dropped your key into the bowl by your door, the bag of food still clutched tightly in his hand, as he allowed his claws to slide free on the other. His breath stuck to his chest, the hair on the back of his neck rose with each step he took. Something was wrong. Yet for the life of him...he couldn't find an explanation.

Your scent was stale. An hour old.

Where he expected to find the sweet echo of your heartbeat somewhere in the apartment; he was met with the chilling realization that you weren't here.

"Honey," he called, his voice lower than intended. "You here baby?"

Logan's heart ached when he was met with a response of nothing. Merely air that didn't carry the sound of your voice, nor the scent he'd grown accustomed to. What was he supposed to do when the emptiness was all the world offered? When the echo of his nightmares suddenly bled into reality.

He set the food on your kitchen table, yanking his phone out of his jacket pocket he slammed his finger on your number. The only one programmed into the damn thing. The incessant ring suddenly never sounded so threatening. So malevolent as he waited with baited breath for your voice to filter through the other line. Loud and clear without a single thing to fear.

When the shrill buzz of your own phone came from the bedroom, Logan felt the familiar cold drip of fear begin to slip down his spine. He struggled to maintain his breathing as he walked towards the room. His claws out—ready to attack at whatever came near him.

The empty bedroom—sheets in a laundry basket and comforter a tangle on the bed from this morning—felt like an icy pick in his chest. You weren't here. And Logan knew there had to be a logical explanation as to why this was.

You left for a reason.

You wouldn't simply offer up silence on a silver platter and expect him to take it with a smile.

You weren't that type of person.

Yet no matter how long he wracked his brain, he couldn't come up with a valid reason as to where you might be. Expecting to see you through the window at Wade's place, Logan rushed to the frame. Only to feel the crunch of glass beneath his feet—the panes shattered and crushed on the floor. Your favorite coffee mug severed in pieces beside it.

"No," he breathed, eyes wide and hand plagued with a tremor of fear as he knelt to grip the porcelain shards.

The terror he fought against for so long slammed into his body with a roar. It forced him to look. To see the truth that he could no longer deny. You didn't leave. You weren't gone of your own volition.

You...weren't safe.

"Fuck," he spit, shutting his eyes as the sting of tears began to prick behind his eyelids. "No. No. No."

"How touching."

The sound of your voice made him whip around, eyes wide and heart racing as he prepared himself to apologize for whatever made you leave. But the face that came into his sight wasn't the you of this universe. Pain sliced his gut as the version of you he couldn't save—the woman he would once die for—smiled at him.

"Fortuna," he said in a breath, eyes trailing down your figure encased in ripples of blue. Your eyes were white—devoid of any emotion. Yet he could feel your bitterness; the hatred that still existed from that night.

Your lips formed a pout, boots echoing against the hardwood floor like bullets firing from a gun. "What? No more honey?"

He flinched when your hand came up to cup his cheek. "What are you-"

"Doing here?" You smiled, blue flashing in the iris of your eyes. Logan felt his body sway with grief—the emotions he swallowed for years now hitting him with a force he never thought possible. "Why...I'm here for you baby."

"Fortuna-"

"Don't call me that." You gripped his chin, dragging him down to face you. "That name never used to leave your lips before. Why now?"

"Where is she?" he bit out, claws begging to take a slice out of your body.

Your voice was filled with mirth. Logan had never heard you this way.

So...deranged. Unhinged.

Whatever happened after you left had pushed you past the edge of what sanity still remained. The brink you toed even when you were together. He could see it in the scars that littered your arms, the long mark along your face. You weren't the woman he once loved. You weren't even the same fucking person.

His eyes trailed further, down to the collar of your suit, until he latched onto the scar that nearly had him staggering away to vomit. Burned onto your skin was a mark to represent who you'd been at one point. Who you would forever remain. The X, a stitched over wound that didn't have the proper time to heal.

The humans broke you. They destroyed the woman he once knew.

Logan felt anger burn in his heart at the realization.

"You mean my replacement?" you spit, shoving him away. "And here I thought you were still nursing your wounds in some fucking bar Logan." The whip twined around your waist sparked to life. "Forgive me for believing you cared."

"You're insane." He stumbled back at the first lick of your power stretching to touch him. "Charles warned you about what your powers would evolve into. He begged you not to go down this path."

Laughter pierced his eardrums—the fury biting at his heart as you cupped his cheeks and shoved your face into his. "Do you know who else begged Logan? Jean. Storm, Scott, Rogue, Bobby-"

He ripped himself away. "Shut the fuck up!"

"They screamed for you Logan!" Time began to slow, slip through his body and tear at the flesh that never aged. "They begged me to help them, to stop their attackers. And what could I do? When I was stuck in the future! But you. You could have saved them. You fucking worthless bastard!"

Blue filled his vision, his body sagging against your hold, as you ripped at his mutant gene with a ferocity that left him beyond saving. This was your last play. The final card you never intended to show him.

"Please-" he gasped, refusing to fight back.

How could he? When his heart still called your name, no matter the universe.

You were his. The person who held every piece of his heart to kill on a whim if you so wished it. The woman who he'd die beside.

He just never thought it would be your mutant variant. He never expected you would be the one to deliver that final blow.

Air filled his lungs when you pulled away. His body healing instantly—the spots of age now fading along his paled skin. Whatever you had planned, it wasn't going to start with his death. Logan knew you better than you knew yourself; a fact you seemed to have forgotten.

You may have been kind—loving once. But final grand shows of vengeance were your ploy. No matter the situation...you wouldn't give away the ending even if he begged.

He fell to his knees, gasping for breath. "Where is she? I-I'll...do anything-"

"You love her," you murmured, regarding him with an expression of pity.

"Yes."

"What a shame."

His head rose, eyes wide as time began to slow. "Fortuna-"

"I'll give her your regards Logan." Your lips pressed to his cheek, breath a familiar warm caress against his skin. He felt his heart shatter.

"Fortuna!"

Staggering to his feet—his heart trapped in his throat—he felt time stop. And any hope he held in his heart...ceased to exist.

The crack of wood jolted you from the darkness you were trapped in. Fear trailed up your spine, wrapping around your heart tight enough to blister in searing pain. Your wrists and ankles were bound, body attached to a chair, and you blinked through the haze to see an empty abandoned room. The cold air stung the bare skin of your thighs as you sat there encased in only Logan's flannel—your skin raw from the rope.

Broken furniture was scattered through the room. A couch stripped of its fabric, walls with torn wallpaper, and you leaning against the wall your head cocked with intrigue.

"W-Who are you?" you stumbled over your words, shivering from the cold.

The echo of boots made the hair rise on the back of your neck, your eyes going wide at the sight of blue spilling off this person's frame. There was no need for her to answer. No response to give, because you knew who stood before you. She wore your face. Spoke in your voice and emanated a power you'd only seen once before.

"Logan once called me honey once," she murmured, milky eyes flashing blue. "He calls you that doesn't he?"

You nodded, shuddering as she dropped to squat in front of you, hands braced on the arms of the air. She didn't regard you with anger like before. Though it still lingered beneath the surface, she watched you as if you were someone to learn from. Someone to figure out.

"Why am I here?" you whispered, voice hoarse.

"Pathetic he would choose to love your kind. After what they did.” Fear struck your chest at the malice in her words, the wrath that now faced you head on. “You can call me Fortuna," she murmured, finger stroking down the side of your face. The place where no scar rested—no mark of torture that echoed from a past she couldn't escape.

"Please." The sting of hot tears burned your eyes. "I don't know what I did-"

A bark of laughter ripped from her throat. "Oh sweetie. You didn't do anything." She stood, loosening the whip from her body. "You're merely collateral damage. No need to take it so personal."

"Collateral-" You gasped as the whip flicked forward, wrapping around your waist. "Wait! Y-You're the woman Logan loved. He told me about you."

The smile that curved her lips forced nausea to the surface of your stomach. "Yes I suppose he would. So guilt ridden by what he couldn't do."

"It's not his fault."

Another laugh had tears slipping down your cheeks. "Did he tell you that?"

"He didn't have to. The humans were the ones to kill your family. Not him."

The whip tightened around your body, pain slicing at your skin. "Oh I'm very well aware of what the humans are capable of."

Scars littered her skin, some larger than others, and suddenly you understood what happened. What she meant by it all. Logan couldn't save her. He wasn't able to keep her from the human's harm. Because he decided to wallow in his own grief than share in hers.

Fortuna had become Logan's worst nightmare. His walking shame that continued to haunt him even in this universe. No wonder he felt so afraid of what might happen the longer he remained with you.

"Do you know this place?" She glanced at the room—the staircase that was tucked away in the corner that led to a second story. "An old farmhouse near the mansion. Abandoned here, but not where I'm from."

"It's..."

"Ours."

Your heart dropped, tears spilling over faster than you could stop them. "Oh..."

"He didn't mention that part did he human?" She stepped closer, leaning over your cowering form with a smile that you felt tear at your heart. "We were going to live here together. You see...I have the one thing you will never be able to give him." Her hand cupped your cheek, wiping at the tears with rough strokes. "I will never die."

You shook your head. "He doesn't-"

"Care?" She clicked her tongue, disappointment flooding her features. "He'll say that now human. But what happens when you're sixty? Seventy? What happens when you outlive the Wolverine? What will he do then?"

"The Logan I know wouldn't leave me because of time."

"I am time," she snapped, gripping your chin. "I have lived as long as he has. I will continue to live even longer. Time means nothing when you are the physical embodiment of it."

"No-"

Wrapping the whip around her clenched fist, she pulled until the power began to split through your nerves. A sob broke past your cracked lips, pain burning through your body, lighting you with a fire only she could put out. She watched with a smile, her power flickering to life as the years began to seep from your body.

Second by second.

Minute by minute.

She stole what little time you could have held with Logan. What might have existed now began to bleed into the air as her whip cut into your skin. The crimson stain of blood seeped into Logan's brown flannel shirt, staining the fabric permanently. A scream tore from your throat—eyes squeezing shut as you tried to block out the sensation that intended to ingrain itself in your mind.

"You are nothing but a replacement." She yanked another inch of the whip closer to her chest—blood pooling beneath the chair and seeping into the wood.

"PLEASE!" you screamed, body wracked with tremors that weren't there before. White began to seep into your hair, streaking down to the base in a long strip—staining you with an age you might never reach. "Please! I-I'll do anything."

She tutted under her breath, her face now at your eye level. "That's where you're wrong. You can't do anything that hasn't already been done honey."

Tears blurred your vision. "W-What?"

"He wouldn't save me." Silence echoed in the still air of the room. The pain slowed to a dull ache as you slumped forward. "So I'm going to make sure he can't save you."

"N-No-"

"Like I said...collateral damage."

Your scream pierced the air like a knife, shattering what peace might have remained, as time began to form around Fortuna. Permanently altering the future that once shone with a light by plunging it into a darkness with no escape. And you were trapped in the center. Unable to claw your way free, to break from the one thing no one could run from.

A hell of time’s own making.

note: i am sorry. we will have a happy ending. just not yet.

[a-reader-and-a-writer]

Sweeter Than Revenge Part 10

AI-Less Whumptober 2024: Day 14. Concussion Fandom: Twisters, Tyler Owens, f!reader, Scott's Sister!reader Summary: Just as you begin to think your life is perfect, a traumatic event occurs that changes everything. Word Count: 7147 TW: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Storm Danger, Panic Attack, Head Injury, Blood, Dissociating, Heartbreak, Tears, Tyler carries Reader, Language Notes: A massive thank you to @blue-aconite and @green-socks for reading this over for me and for all the constant support! And to @mayhem24-7forever for always answering my late-night panicked messages. Part of @ailesswhumptober's whumptober event!

Divider created by me (please ask/credit before using)

Series Masterlist

Time didn’t seem to matter anymore. Looking at your phone one morning, you realized it was exactly three weeks since you started this whirlwind trip. Yet, it was sometimes hard to believe. Part of you felt as if you had just arrived, while another part felt like this had always been your life. 

The Wranglers—which you were happy to include yourself in now that you bore their tattoo—led such crazy, chaotic lives that every day was some new adventure where you were never quite sure what would happen. Yet you were always having the time of your life! And your nights were just as exciting and heavenly with Tyler in your bed. He was everything you had ever dreamed of in a partner and more. The perfect blend of taking charge and always making sure you were comfortable. Sexy as hell, but caring and sweet as well. 

Your life was truly turning into something magical.

However, it’s often when we are floating on cloud nine that the world decides to bring us crashing back down to Earth.

“Sweetheart, you gotta get up.”

You opened your eyes as Tyler continued to shake you. Rolling to look over your shoulder at him, you muttered, “What’s going on?” It was only then that you noticed the loud siren blaring outside. “What’s that sound?”

“Tornado siren,” Tyler said as he grabbed his boxer briefs off the floor and quickly pulled them on. “One just touched down at the end of the street and we gotta get somewhere safe. Now!”

There was an edge in Tyler’s voice you had never heard before, especially not when discussing storms. If he was concerned about it, it must be bad. 

Quickly, you slipped off the bed. Luckily you had slipped your panties back on last night when you went to the bathroom and your bra was dangling on the lamp next to the bed but you couldn’t remember where the rest of your clothes had been tossed while Tyler undressed you. Seeing a box of his merch t-shirt in the chair next to you, you grabbed one and pulled it on. It was long enough that it skimmed the middle of your thighs but you really wished you had found your shorts.

Tyler grabbed his keys then your hand, pulling you towards the door. But just as he reached for the handle, the wall-length window beside it exploded inward, sending both you and Tyler flying backwards. The air was knocked out of your lungs as you slammed into the thinly carpeted floor and your head cracked against the corner of the bed frame. Gasping and dazed, you struggled to catch your breath as the air seemed to be sucked out of the room. Hundreds of places on your body stung, and you could just make out various-sized shards of glass sticking out of your arm and chest, causing tiny pinpricks of blood to blossom across your shirt, dyeing the cartoon of Tyler. Based on how the rest of you were feeling, you figured you also had glass lodged in your face, neck, and thighs. 

But it was nothing compared to the pain in the back of your head. With every beat of your racing heart, a fresh throb of pain stabbed through your mind. The world around you looked fuzzy and out of focus. When you tried to move, it felt as though you were swimming through molasses, your movements sluggish and heavy, and all you wanted to do was lay there and fall asleep.

Suddenly, Tyler’s face was looming over yours. He too had glass jutting out of his skin, but since he had been slightly protected by the door, it was mostly clustered on the right side of his body. He was screaming something at you but the sound was torn away with the wind. You tried to sit up, but you barely managed to lift your head before collapsing back. Realizing something was wrong, Tyler brushed his fingers against the back of your head—you flinched slightly at the stinging pain it caused—and his eyes grew wide as he pulled them back, the tips stained red. 

You flinched as more glass was sucked up from the floor and hurled back at the two of you. More shards buried themselves in your legs, but Tyler’s body crouched over yours blocked most of the glass from hitting you. His face twitched slightly and his jaw clenched as he was pelted by glass and other debris, but all of his focus was on you. Sliding one of his arms carefully under yours while the other supported your head, he managed to lift you to your feet. Then he half-dragged, half-carried you deeper into the room until you reached the closet. Prying the door open against the wind, he eased you gently to the floor before stepping inside himself and letting the door slam shut. 

It was dark inside, and with the power off, the faint moonlight that managed to pierce through the storm was nearly non-existent as it drifted in from the slats in the wooden closet door. You felt Tyler reach for you in the darkness and when his hand grasped your arm, he pulled you into his lap. He curled his body around yours, shielding as much of you as he could in case the worst happened. One of his hands hovered protectively over the back of your head where you had hit it earlier, not quite touching your wound but covering it from any debris that might sneak into your hideout. 

You buried your face into his bare chest, ignoring the glass sticking out of both of you, and you suddenly realized you were screaming at the top of your lungs. You had no idea how long you had been producing the sobbing shriek—the sound ripped away by the wind—but your throat burned and felt raw even as you continued to wail. Vibrations in Tyler’s chest and throat told you he was trying to say something to you, but over the wind and your screams, you couldn’t hear him.

Just outside the closest, the wind howled and rattled the door, nearly ripping it off its hinges. It felt as if an intruder were trying to force themself in to steal you away and you clung tighter to Tyler even as it drove the glass shards deeper into you. You felt raindrops against your skin as they were hurled through the wooden slats and they mixed with the tears streaming down your face. 

For almost three weeks now, you had braved storm after storm tucked safely in Tyler’s truck. Every time felt like going on a roller coaster. Your stomach would float up into your throat, your toes would curl, and you would grab onto Tyler, screaming with joy. You had counted those storms among some of the most exhilarating moments of your life. But now, curled in Tyler’s lap, your stomach still floated into your throat, your bare toes were curled against the thin carpet, and you held onto Tyler for dear life—yet your screams were anything but joyful.

Finally, as he rubbed soothing circles across your back, you heard Tyler whisper, “Shhh… sweetheart, it’s over now. We’re okay, we’re okay. We made it.” 

You could hear the wind dying down outside and felt the building settle as it no longer fought against the storm so you knew he was right. Slowly, your screams faded until you were just making a wet gurgling sound deep in your throat. Still, you couldn’t stop shaking. 

Tyler tried to get you to look at him, but you couldn’t. All you could do was cling to him and shake, neither of which seemed in your control at the moment. Nothing else in the world mattered but Tyler and you needed him as close to you as possible.

When it became clear you weren’t going to let go, he stood up with you still in his arms. Then he carried you out of the destroyed room, wincing with every step as more glass was driven into his feet. A small part of you in the back of your mind felt horrible seeing him in pain but the rest of your brain was still in shut-down mode.

Once he made it across the room, Tyler carried you down the stairs, avoiding debris and broken concrete along the way. And as he reached the parking lot, you heard a familiar voice call out.

“T!” You could just see Boone rushing towards you out of the corner of your eye. “You guys alright?”

“For the most part.” Boone stumbled to a stop when he saw you shivering in Tyler’s arms but Tyler just kept walking. As Boone fell back into step with him, Tyler asked, “Everyone else okay?”

“Y-Yeah. We crammed into your truck and put the augers down just in case, but it barely touched the parking lot. When you didn’t show up…” Boone’s voice was thick as he trailed off.

Tyler nodded. “We tried getting outta the room but the window shattered. We’ve got glass stuck in us everywhere and she hit her head when we were thrown back. It’s bleeding but I don’t think it’s too bad, slight concussion at worst. But I think she’s gone into shock. Dani, can you get some blankets? I’m gonna put her in your van so I can take a better look at her.”

“On it.” 

You hadn’t even realized the rest of the Wranglers had gathered around you until you heard Dani’s voice beside you. Lily placed a gentle hand on your trembling shin but you did not acknowledge it. It was too hard. Everything was too hard. Your head still hurt like crazy, but more than that, you felt like your battery had been completely drained. Even just keeping your eyes open felt like a Herculean task and you could barely grasp what was happening around you for more than a moment before everything drifted away again like smoke on the breeze. The only thing that felt real was Tyler’s heart beating against you.

A moment later, he set you down gently inside Dani and Dexter’s van, positioned so your legs still hung out the door. Kneeling in front of you, he ran his hands carefully over your still-quivering body to see if there were any other injuries he might have missed. When he didn’t find any, he sat back on his heels to look at you.

But you were only vaguely aware of any of this. Your head was hung, staring down at the pavement, looking at Tyler’s bare feet. You felt everything happening, but at the same time, you didn’t, your mind still floating in this strange dissociative space. You saw Tyler kneeling before you out of the corner of your eye, watched his thumb rub circles on your bare knee, yet there was no connection between him and you. It was as if you were watching him tend to someone else while you stood by and watched. 

Someone handed him a blanket and he carefully wrapped it around you, pulling it snugly and tucking it in around you so you were cocooned with only your hands free.

Then, in a voice tinted with concern and care, he murmured, “Hey, sweetheart. Can you look at me?” 

You didn’t want to. You didn’t want to do anything. You just wanted to slip back into the hazy fog building in your mind and forget everything that was happening. But it was Tyler who was asking you to do this, and you didn’t want to let him down. So, fighting every urge screaming at you, you focused all your willpower and slowly lifted your eyes to meet his. 

It was such a small accomplishment, yet Tyler let out a shaky sigh of relief and cupped your face. Voice trembling as a smile stretched across his face, he whispered, “There you are. There’s my brave, beautiful girl. You had me scared there for a minute. But it’s gonna be okay now. You’re safe and we’re gonna take care of you.” 

Someone muttered something behind him and he cocked his head to listen. Tyler scrubbed his hand across his face, but it did little to ease the deep lines carved there in the last half hour or so. But he shook his head.

Turning his attention back to you, he signed. “I have to go check on a few things then I’ll be right back. I’ll try to find us some fresh clothes too. That might make you feel a little better.” It was only then that you realized you were still just in your panties and Tyler’s blood-stained merch shirt while he was in nothing but his boxer briefs. Neither one of you had shoes on, a fact that was highlighted by the bloody puddle Tyler was standing in from all the glass cuts on his feet. But he didn’t seem to notice as he stepped closer to you. “Boone and Dex are coming with me, but Lily and Dani are going to stay with you the whole time and help patch you up, okay? And if you really need me before I get back, one of them will get me. Do you think you’ll be alright?” 

You nodded, or at least tried to. You still felt disconnected from your body and honestly weren’t sure if your head moved or not. But Tyler must have seen some sign of acknowledgment because he leaned forward and kissed you on the forehead. Then he started to go but only made it a single step before turning back. 

Placing his hand on your knee, he said, “Sweetheart, you’ve gotta let go of my hand.” Looking down, you saw your hand still desperately squeezing Tyler’s. With a concentrated effort, you managed to open your fist and Tyler pulled his hand away, massaging it with his other one to get the blood flowing again. Then he gave you a small smile. “I’ll just be a couple of minutes then I’ll be back. I promise.” He shot Dani and Lily a quick look, then disappeared into the crowd that had formed in the parking lot.

Lily sat down on the edge of the van next to you. Gently, she said, "Dani and I want to try to get some of that glass out of you. Would that be okay? It’ll probably sting a little.”

You gave another faint nod, even as you continued to stare at the ground. A moment later, you felt a small pinprick of pain just below your collarbone. Then another on your forehead. And another over your ribs. They didn’t hurt too badly—they felt similar to a mosquito bite—and actually, these slight pinches of pain were helping you come back to yourself. They were grounding you to your body once more. And when Dani pulled a particularly deep piece of glass out of your cheek, you flinched with a slight hiss. She muttered a soft, “I’m sorry” before continuing. 

After they had covered about half your body, carefully removing what glass they could with just their fingers, you finally felt a little more yourself. Your trembling had stopped and your body no longer felt as heavy. Running your tongue across your lips to wet them, you thickly mumbled, “It wasn’t like it was in the truck.”

It was the first time you had spoken since the storm broke, the words hoarse and scratchy from all of your screaming. Dani and Lily exchanged looks, before Lily asked, “I’m sorry?”

Slowly, you raised your head to look at her. “This storm. Being in it. It wasn’t like it was when we were in the truck.”

“No, I guess it probably wasn’t. But it’s over now and you’re okay. And Tyler should be back any minute.” Lily glanced over her shoulder, probably hoping to see Tyler walking back towards the van. But then she turned back to you. “Can we get you anything? Some water or something to eat?”

You shook your head. There was something you needed—the deep gnawing ache in your chest that had been there since Tyler left was the constant reminder of that—but you couldn’t find the words to explain what it was. Maybe it would ease when he returned. When he could hold you again and make all of this go away. Yet, you knew it wasn’t as simple as that. Even once Tyler came back, he couldn’t undo what had happened tonight.

Off in the distance, you heard a voice frantically screaming for someone but you couldn’t make out what they were saying. However, as it got closer, you sat up straight and jerked your head around, coming to life as you recognized the voice calling your name. Both Lily and Dani jumped slightly at your sudden movement, and Dani stuck her head out the side of the van. “Scott! She’s over here!”

A moment later, your brother appeared in the doorway, chest heaving, eyes wide, and dark, damp hair—for once not hidden beneath a cap—plastered to his face. 

With a sob, you threw the blanket to the side and dove at him. “Scotty!” 

You plowed into him, immediately wrapping him in the tightest hug you could manage as the numbness that had consumed you evaporated, leaving you a tearful sobbing mess. Scott stumbled back under the force of your tackle, his body rigid in your embrace. But a moment later, you felt his arms hesitantly wrap around you—lightly at first but soon clinging to you just as tightly as you were to him. You had never hugged your brother like this but as that ache in your chest began to lift, you realized it was what you had needed all along. After everything the two of you had been through and how rocky your relationship had gotten, in the end, what you needed most was your big brother to make things all better.

The two of you remained in your embrace for a long time, both of you relying on the other to keep you on your feet. Then Scott finally pulled away and placed his hands on your shoulders as he looked you over. “When I heard you were here…that there had been casualties…I thought…” He pulled you into another tight hug.

Hugging him back, you sniffed, “Tyler saved me. I didn’t even hear the sirens until he woke me up. Then the window blew when we tried to leave and I hit my head and I…I couldn’t move. I was so scared, Scotty. But then Tyler was there and he got me into the closest and protected me until it was over and he brought me here...and…and…”

You buried your face into his shoulder and began to sob again. Scott rubbed his hand across your back before helping you sit back down in the open back of the van. He gently tried to touch the back of your head but you flinched away. “Sorry,” he muttered as he continued to look you over. “Besides your head, are you okay? I see a lot of blood here.”

“It’s from the glass when their window broke,” Dani interjected. “Both her and Tyler were covered in it. We’ve tried to get as much out as we can but she should probably go somewhere to have a professional make sure it’s all gone.”

“Thank you…both of you.” For once, there was no snark or sarcasm in his tone as Scott addressed the two Wranglers. Placing his hand on top of your head, he asked, “Can I have a minute alone with my sister?”

Dani and Lily exchanged another look, then looked at you. You knew they had promised Tyler not to leave your side, so you nodded to let them know it was okay. They said they’d wait by Tyler’s truck which was farther down in the parking lot while still in view if you needed anything, then they left.

Once he waited long enough for them to get out of earshot, Scott crossed his arms over his chest and raised an eyebrow. “‘The glass from their broken window’, huh? So…you were with Owens.” 

For the first time, you realized you were still only wearing Tyler’s merch t-shirt—now filthy with dust and blood—which only just covered your panties. Self-consciously, you grabbed the blanket again and wrapped it around you, trying to cover as much of your bare skin as possible. 

“Scotty, I..I—”

But he cut you off by crouching down and placing his hands on your knees. “No, it’s okay. It doesn’t matter. I had no right to tell you you shouldn’t be with him in the first place. And now I’m glad you were together, otherwise I might have lost you.”

Tears filling your eyes once more, you placed your hand on his cheek. “I didn’t know you cared so much.”

“Is it terrible to say neither did I until I thought I was too late?” He dropped his head but you saw a few tears slip out as he squeezed his eyes shut. “I treated you so horribly since you arrived and I thought I didn’t want to have anything to do with you anymore. I was ready to cut you out of my life completely. But the second Javi told me the storm was heading straight for the motel the Wranglers had stopped at for the night, the motel you were only at because you were trying to give me my space…I don’t think I’ve ever been so scared in my life. And I realized at that moment that it’s not that I don’t care, it’s that I was afraid of giving you another chance and finding out you hadn’t changed, that you were that same person you were when we were growing up. And nothing hurts more than being rejected or betrayed by those you love, especially family. But that’s exactly what I did to you. And I’m so sorry.”

Sure, this might all be the situation talking and Scott might not feel the same way tomorrow or a month from now, but as he pulled you into another hug, you didn’t care. You finally felt like you had your brother back. 

As you hugged Scott, you saw over his shoulder that Tyler, Boone, and Dexter had joined the two girls by Tyler’s truck. Tyler must have either scavenged some of his clothes from your room or had spares in the truck because he was now wearing a pair of jeans—riding low on his hips due to the lack of his favorite belt and buckle—and tennis shoes, still no shirt. It was the first time you had ever seen him in something other than boots and it felt strange. At least his cowboy hat was settled on his head.

You couldn’t hear what they were talking about. Based on the anxious way Lily had her arms wrapped around herself and Tyler was standing with his hands on his hips as he stared at the ground shaking his head, a deep frown carved into his handsome face, whatever it was it wasn’t a pleasant conversation. Then Tyler lifted his head and looked towards the camper van. His eyes met yours and his frown lifted into a small smile—one that didn’t reach the rest of his face. His green eyes, usually sparkling with life, were now murky and troubled.

He walked over to you just as Scott pulled away, probably hearing someone approaching. Tyler nodded at him and said, “Scott. Do you think I can talk to her for a minute alone? We need to sort some stuff out after…” He gestured to the damaged motel behind him.

Scott nodded. “Yeah. But I’m not leaving my sister. I’ll wait by the front of the van until you’re done.” He started to walk away then paused. “And Ow–Tyler…thank you for protecting her.”

Tyler nodded. “I’m just sorry I couldn’t do a better job.”

Scott nodded again and disappeared in front of the van. 

Tyler sighed and turned back to you, just as you sat back down on the edge of the van. “I, uh, I managed to rescue some of our things from the room.” He placed your backpack by your feet. “I wasn’t sure what you might want to change into so I brought it all.”

“Thanks, Ty.”

His face brightened slightly. “Hey, I missed your voice. Though it does sound a little rough around the edges. Does it hurt?”

“Yeah, but it’s not too bad. I can’t remember how long I was screaming. By the time I realized I was even doing it, my throat was already sore. I ca-can’t remember a lot of what happened, honestly. Just the wind a-and hitting my head a-a-and…”

You started hyperventilating as you were suddenly back in the room, Tyler’s face looming over yours as the world crumbled around you. 

“Shh, it’s okay,” Tyler cooed as he took your face in his hands. 

It took a moment, but with him grounding you, you were able to pull yourself back under control. “I’m sorry,” you said, leaning into his touch. “It’s just a lot.”

“Yeah, that’s what I figured.” Sitting down next to you, Tyler hung his head with a sigh. After a moment, lifting his eyes to yours, he said, “Sweetheart, I need you to go home. Tonight.”

“What?” The panic you had felt before when the storm raged through your room gripped your heart once again as you tried to grasp what he was saying.

“You need to leave Oklahoma. Leave all of this.”

No. It didn’t make sense. Tyler was the one who had asked you to stay longer in the first place. Did your breakdown tonight change how he felt about you? “But Tyler, I thought we—”

“I know. And we were. But tonight just proved I can’t keep you safe. We got lucky this time, but I won’t be able to forgive myself if something happens to you because you’re out here with me. So I need you to go.”

For the hundredth time tonight, tears filled your eyes. In a voice barely more than a breath, you whispered, “I thought you cared about me.”

Tyler’s face shattered and he gathered you up into his arms. “Oh, sweetheart, if I didn’t care so much, I wouldn’t be asking you to do this. I haven’t felt like this about someone for a really long time and I don’t want it to end. But—”

You placed your fingers over his lips, refusing to let him finish that sentence. “Then don’t let it end. Let me stay.”

“And tomorrow when another storm passes through, are you gonna be okay with that? Even knowing that if you don’t go on a chase, a storm may still hit where you are and you’ll end up in the middle of it again?” You opened your mouth to answer but the thought of another experience like tonight made the words stick in your throat. Tyler noticed and nodded. “That’s what I thought.”

You hadn’t given thought to tomorrow or the next day or the next. You knew what happened tonight wouldn’t stop Tyler from chasing the next storm the moment one formed, but you also knew that you never wanted to see another tornado as long as you lived. This meant the two of you were now at odds, neither willing nor able to give in for the other—which meant Tyler was right. You needed to go. 

Yet knowing that and accepting what that meant were not the same thing. Lip quivering, you asked, “So, what? This is just it? I leave and we never see each other again?”

“We both knew that it had to end at some point. Even if you stayed until the last day of your break, you have to go back to school. And I'm heading back to Arkansas when the season’s over. We're just…we're just saying goodbye a little sooner than expected.”

“I don’t want to say goodbye at all,” you said, your fingers digging into his bare shoulders. “Ty, I need you.”

“You might not feel that way in a day or two,” he said sadly. “This was a traumatic experience for you—don’t say it wasn’t because I won’t ever forget that feeling of you trembling in my arms in that closet or the sounds of your screams knowing there was nothing I could do to help you—and I don’t want you to have to relive it every time you look at me.”

“Tyler Owens, you’re the only reason I’m still alive to do anything. I could never look at you like that.”

“You don’t know that. It kills me to say this, but I’m pretty sure that this isn’t over for you. Not by a long shot. I’ve helped enough survivors of these kinds of things to know the signs. And this is going to stick with you for a very long time. Different people deal with things in different ways, but one way you might deal with it may be separating yourself from any reminders of tonight—including me. And I don’t want to be the reason you’re still in pain.” 

 “But what if you’re wrong?” you cried. “What if you’re making me leave and I still want you in my life?”

“I’m not making you do anything. If you decide to stay, I won’t stop you. But I think if you really consider what that means, you’ll see leaving is the right choice.” As you nodded with a small sob, he sighed. “Listen, I’m only out here for a few more weeks. If by then you’ve processed everything that’s happened and still want to see me, I’ll be on the first plane to you. But if it’s all too much and you’d rather just move on…” His thumb gently circled a spot on your arm where they had removed one of the larger pieces of glass. “...then I’ll respect it.”

Snuggling your face into the crook of his neck, you mumbled, “I won’t want to move on. I just want you.”

“Then you’ll have me, sweetheart. I promise.” He pressed his lips to your forehead. “But you need to go home until then. Please…for me.”

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself, then nodded. Tyler squeezed you tightly then lifted you off his lap and placed you back onto the van floor. Standing up, he gazed down at you, his eyes damp with tears.

“Scott,” he called out, his eyes never wavering from yours. “Why don’t you take your sister to the hospital to get checked out? Then see about getting her on a flight home tomorrow.”

Scott stepped up to the side of the van. He looked from Tyler to you and asked, “Is that what you want?”

You shook your head, tears streaming down your face. “No…but it’s what’s best for everyone.”

Tyler gave you an encouraging smile, putting his hand on your shoulder and squeezing it, and you leaned your head against his hip, savoring his touch while you still could. Scott’s eyes followed every movement. Nodding softly, he said, “Okay. Let me check in with Javi and fill him in on what’s going on. I’ll meet you by Scarecrow in a few minutes.”

As Scott walked away, Tyler pulled you into him as he folded himself over you. Pressing his lips to your temple, he whispered, “Thank you.” Then he stepped back. “Why don’t you go get changed and I’ll walk you over to Scott when you’re done.”

“Or you could help me,” you whispered, peering up at him from under your eyelashes. “For old time’s sake.”

Tyler glanced over his shoulder and then asked, “Are you sure? I don’t know if you’re up for—”

“Nothing like that,” you said, shaking your head. “I just want to be with you as much as possible. Please, Ty.”

He nodded and helped you stand before you both climbed into the camper van. As he slid the door closed, you rummaged through your backpack and pulled out a pair of shorts and a halter top. With a start, you realized it was the same outfit you had been wearing the day you arrived in Oklahoma. The one you had been wearing when you first met Tyler. It felt strangely perfect so you closed the backpack and turned to show them to Tyler. 

Based on the way his eyes softened as they landed on the outfit, he remembered it too. He walked over to you and gathered the bottom of the merch shirt you were wearing in his hands. When you nodded, he carefully lifted it over your head and tossed it to the floor. He inhaled as he saw the cuts that now littered your body from the glass. Gently, he trailed his fingers over a few of them on your arms, then he dropped to his knees in front of you.

As you stood there in nothing but your bra and panties, he grabbed your hips and pulled you close to him. Then he began kissing the cuts across your stomach, starting with the ones just above your panty line. Then he moved up your body, placing a long, lingering kiss on each and every cut. Your eyes fluttered as he reached your breasts—he placed an extra-long kiss on the cut at the top of your cleavage. Then he continues up onto your neck, finally reaching your face. 

But as he started to kiss the cuts on your cheeks, you had waited long enough. You grabbed his head and turned it so his lips pressed against yours. Less than three weeks together, and you had been so sure you never wanted to kiss anyone else after Tyler. Yet, here you were about to walk out of his life, possibly forever. How much had changed in a single night.

Tyler finally pulled away, resting his head against yours. Panting slightly, he muttered, “You should get dressed. We better not keep your brother waiting.”

After you were ready, Tyler walked you back to his truck to say goodbye to the rest of the Wranglers. Until that moment, you hadn’t realized that not only might you never see Tyler again, but you might never see the rest of your new friends again either. That fact brought a fresh wave of tears to your eyes. 

As Tyler grabbed a shirt out of his backseat, you tried to hold it together as you bid farewell to each Wrangler. You thanked Dani and Lily for everything they had done for you that night. Individually, you thanked Dani for all of her advice and how she always had your back when you were first starting out with Tyler. You gave Lily a huge hug and thank you for your tattoo. Even after what happened, you had no regrets and would treasure it for the rest of your life. You thanked Dexter for taking you on as his food prep helper and for everything he had taken the time to teach you about food, tornados, and just life in general. Boone was the hardest to say goodbye to since you both looked like you were about to burst into tears. But when you pulled him into a hug, you whispered, “Please look out for him for me” to which Boone nodded and hugged you tighter. 

Taking one last look at everyone, you waved and promised to keep in touch. Then Tyler—now wearing one of his plaid shirts—placed his hand on your back and led you to Scarecrow. As heartbroken as you already felt, you didn’t know how you would survive what came next.

Scott and Javi were standing next to the passenger’s door when you arrived. You held open your arms and Javi stepped forward into them. You thanked him for running interference this trip and apologized again for any uncomfortable situations you put him in. He said he was glad to have helped and to see that you were okay after tonight’s storm. You saw Tyler shift out of the corner of your eye and you remembered what he said earlier. Hopefully, you really were okay. 

When you turned to grab your backpack from Tyler, Javi let out a snort of laughter while Scott made a strangled internal scream. Turning back in confusion, you felt heat rush to your face as you realized your halter top clearly showed off your tattoo. You gave them both a sheepish smile. Javi just nodded, a wide grin spread across his face, while Scott put one hand on his hip while he pinched the bridge of his nose with the other. 

Tyler chuckled as he steered you over to your brother. “Sorry we forgot to mention that, Scotty. But since she became a Wrangler, we let her decide if she wanted to make it official.” His eyes met yours. “And once a Wrangler, always a Wrangler. No matter what.”

“No matter what,” you whispered back, staring deep into his eyes.

Scott groaned as he rubbed his temples. “Could you please just get in the fucking truck? I don’t think I can handle any more surprises tonight.”

 “Sorry,” both you and Tyler muttered at the same time. 

As Tyler helped you climb into Scarecrow, you said one last goodbye to Javi before he walked away and Scott hurried over to the driver’s side. He got in and started the truck, but as your door slammed shut, you motioned for him to put down the window. With a sigh, he did what he was asked. 

Reaching out the window, your fingers curled into Tyler’s shirt, afraid if you let go, he would disappear. Holding back your tears, you choked out, “Don’t you fucking dare forget to call.”

Tyler nodded, a soft smile on his lips even as you saw tears glistening in his green eyes. Dipping his head slightly, he murmured, “Yes, ma’am.” 

He leaned in the window and pressed a kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment. Then he started to pull back, but you wrapped your hand around the back of his neck to stop him as you leaned out the window, your lips crashing into his. If this might be the last time you even saw Tyler Owens, you were going to make it a moment to remember the rest of your life. The kiss wasn’t as passionate or frenzied as some of the ones you shared once you had retreated to your room for the night, but there was a deep desperation there that you felt in your soul. You needed him to know that you didn’t want to leave him. To leave no doubt that you still wanted him despite his fears the trauma of the night would change your mind. 

And most of all, you wanted him to feel the sincerity in your next words.

Pulling away slightly, you whispered, “I still don’t regret a second of our time together. Because I love you, Ty.”

Without hesitation, Tyler whispered, “I love you too, sweetheart. And that’s why I need you to do what’s best for you. Even if that means I’m not a part of that life. Promise me.”

“I promise.”

“Thank you.” Taking your hand, he pressed one final kiss to the back of it. “Goodbye, my brave, beautiful girl.”

A tear rolled down your cheek as you said, “Goodbye, my big, bad Tornado Wrangler.”

With a smile and tears in his eyes, Tyler let your hand go and he stepped away from the truck. Before you could change your mind, Scott put the truck in gear and pulled out of the parking lot. 

For several miles, you stared out the passenger’s window, silently crying. Scott glanced at you out of the corner of his eye before turning back to look at the road. “You really like him, don’t you?” You nodded. “Damn. I thought it was just your way of messing with me.”

You sighed. “It was…at first. I remembered you had mentioned him and how much you hated his crew so after what you said to me when I first got here, I thought it would be nice to see you squirm watching us together. But as soon as I started getting to know him, everything changed. I’ve never met a man like Tyler Owens before, and I doubt I ever will again.”

“Yeah, well, despite how he saved you tonight, I’m still not happy to find out he’s been shacking up with my little sister,” he mumbled under his breath.

Turning to face him with a chuckle, you asked, “Do you really think Tyler’s the first guy I’ve slept with?”

Scott’s hands tightened around the steering wheel. “It’s not something I like to think about. But no…I remember those times Mom caught you in high school.”

“Oh my god!” you burst out laughing. “I still can’t believe she never once tried to stop us or ban the guys from the house. She would just turn bright red and hurry back out the room then pretend she never saw anything.” The smile that had bloomed across your damp face suddenly deflated. “Yet the one time they found you with that topless cheerleader, they almost kicked you out of the house.” You closed your eyes. “Scotty, I’m so sorry for how they treated you. Or for how they treated me. Or both. It wasn’t fair and you deserved better than that. I’m sorry I didn’t realize that sooner.”

Scott shifted in his seat. “Yeah, well, it wasn’t fair for me to be mad at you for what they did. You didn’t ask to be treated differently and I shouldn’t have blamed you for something you had no control over. Yeah, you didn’t have to be such a spoiled brat all the time, but I probably would have done the same if I were in your position.”

“So…what does this mean? For us?” you asked hesitantly.

“I don’t know.” His eyes shifted over to look at you once more. “But I’m willing to try if you are.”

“I always was.”

The two of you continued to chat on the way to the hospital, reminiscing about your childhoods and, surprisingly, recalling more happy moments together than either of you thought there were. You guessed they had just been blocked by all the pain and resentment that had built up over the years. 

And as Scott pulled into the hospital parking lot, you couldn’t help but smile at this parting gift Tyler had given you. He could have easily taken you to the hospital and then to the airport—in fact, you were sure it went against every chivalrous bone in his body not to. But instead, he let Scott take you which had given the two of you the time you needed to finally mend that rift between you. 

He had given you your brother back.

Epilogue coming 10/21!!!!

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[a-reader-and-a-writer-for-all]

Sweeter Than Revenge Part 10

AI-Less Whumptober 2024: Day 14. Concussion

Fandom: Twisters, Tyler Owens, f!reader, Scott's Sister!reader

Summary: Just as you begin to think your life is perfect, a traumatic event occurs that changes everything.

Word Count: 7147

TW: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Storm Danger, Panic Attack, Concussion, Blood, Dissociating, Heartbreak, Tears, Tyler carries Reader, Language

Notes: A massive thank you to @blue-aconite and @green-socks for reading this over for me and for all the constant support! And to @mayhem24-7forever for always answering my late-night panicked messages

Divider created by me (please ask/credit before using)

Series Masterlist

Time didn’t seem to matter anymore. Looking at your phone one morning, you realized it was exactly three weeks since you started this whirlwind trip. Yet, it was sometimes hard to believe. Part of you felt as if you had just arrived, while another part felt like this had always been your life. 

The Wranglers—which you were happy to include yourself in now that you bore their tattoo—led such crazy, chaotic lives that every day was some new adventure where you were never quite sure what would happen. Yet you were always having the time of your life! And your nights were just as exciting and heavenly with Tyler in your bed. He was everything you had ever dreamed of in a partner and more. The perfect blend of taking charge and always making sure you were comfortable. Sexy as hell, but caring and sweet as well. 

Your life was truly turning into something magical.

However, it’s often when we are floating on cloud nine that the world decides to bring us crashing back down to Earth.

“Sweetheart, you gotta get up.”

You opened your eyes as Tyler continued to shake you. Rolling to look over your shoulder at him, you muttered, “What’s going on?” It was only then that you noticed the loud siren blaring outside. “What’s that sound?”

“Tornado siren,” Tyler said as he grabbed his boxer briefs off the floor and quickly pulled them on. “One just touched down at the end of the street and we gotta get somewhere safe. Now!”

There was an edge in Tyler’s voice you had never heard before, especially not when discussing storms. If he was concerned about it, it must be bad. 

Quickly, you slipped off the bed. Luckily you had slipped your panties back on last night when you went to the bathroom and your bra was dangling on the lamp next to the bed but you couldn’t remember where the rest of your clothes had been tossed while Tyler undressed you. Seeing a box of his merch t-shirt in the chair next to you, you grabbed one and pulled it on. It was long enough that it skimmed the middle of your thighs but you really wished you had found your shorts.

Tyler grabbed his keys then your hand, pulling you towards the door. But just as he reached for the handle, the wall-length window beside it exploded inward, sending both you and Tyler flying backwards. The air was knocked out of your lungs as you slammed into the thinly carpeted floor and your head cracked against the corner of the bed frame. Gasping and dazed, you struggled to catch your breath as the air seemed to be sucked out of the room. Hundreds of places on your body stung, and you could just make out various-sized shards of glass sticking out of your arm and chest, causing tiny pinpricks of blood to blossom across your shirt, dyeing the cartoon of Tyler. Based on how the rest of you were feeling, you figured you also had glass lodged in your face, neck, and thighs. 

But it was nothing compared to the pain in the back of your head. With every beat of your racing heart, a fresh throb of pain stabbed through your mind. The world around you looked fuzzy and out of focus. When you tried to move, it felt as though you were swimming through molasses, your movements sluggish and heavy, and all you wanted to do was lay there and fall asleep.

Suddenly, Tyler’s face was looming over yours. He too had glass jutting out of his skin, but since he had been slightly protected by the door, it was mostly clustered on the right side of his body. He was screaming something at you but the sound was torn away with the wind. You tried to sit up, but you barely managed to lift your head before collapsing back. Realizing something was wrong, Tyler brushed his fingers against the back of your head—you flinched slightly at the stinging pain it caused—and his eyes grew wide as he pulled them back, the tips stained red. 

You flinched as more glass was sucked up from the floor and hurled back at the two of you. More shards buried themselves in your legs, but Tyler’s body crouched over yours blocked most of the glass from hitting you. His face twitched slightly and his jaw clenched as he was pelted by glass and other debris, but all of his focus was on you. Sliding one of his arms carefully under yours while the other supported your head, he managed to lift you to your feet. Then he half-dragged, half-carried you deeper into the room until you reached the closet. Prying the door open against the wind, he eased you gently to the floor before stepping inside himself and letting the door slam shut. 

It was dark inside, and with the power off, the faint moonlight that managed to pierce through the storm was nearly non-existent as it drifted in from the slats in the wooden closet door. You felt Tyler reach for you in the darkness and when his hand grasped your arm, he pulled you into his lap. He curled his body around yours, shielding as much of you as he could in case the worst happened. One of his hands hovered protectively over the back of your head where you had hit it earlier, not quite touching your wound but covering it from any debris that might sneak into your hideout. 

You buried your face into his bare chest, ignoring the glass sticking out of both of you, and you suddenly realized you were screaming at the top of your lungs. You had no idea how long you had been producing the sobbing shriek—the sound ripped away by the wind—but your throat burned and felt raw even as you continued to wail. Vibrations in Tyler’s chest and throat told you he was trying to say something to you, but over the wind and your screams, you couldn’t hear him.

Just outside the closest, the wind howled and rattled the door, nearly ripping it off its hinges. It felt as if an intruder were trying to force themself in to steal you away and you clung tighter to Tyler even as it drove the glass shards deeper into you. You felt raindrops against your skin as they were hurled through the wooden slats and they mixed with the tears streaming down your face. 

For almost three weeks now, you had braved storm after storm tucked safely in Tyler’s truck. Every time felt like going on a roller coaster. Your stomach would float up into your throat, your toes would curl, and you would grab onto Tyler, screaming with joy. You had counted those storms among some of the most exhilarating moments of your life. But now, curled in Tyler’s lap, your stomach still floated into your throat, your bare toes were curled against the thin carpet, and you held onto Tyler for dear life—yet your screams were anything but joyful.

Finally, as he rubbed soothing circles across your back, you heard Tyler whisper, “Shhh… sweetheart, it’s over now. We’re okay, we’re okay. We made it.” 

You could hear the wind dying down outside and felt the building settle as it no longer fought against the storm so you knew he was right. Slowly, your screams faded until you were just making a wet gurgling sound deep in your throat. Still, you couldn’t stop shaking. 

Tyler tried to get you to look at him, but you couldn’t. All you could do was cling to him and shake, neither of which seemed in your control at the moment. Nothing else in the world mattered but Tyler and you needed him as close to you as possible.

When it became clear you weren’t going to let go, he stood up with you still in his arms. Then he carried you out of the destroyed room, wincing with every step as more glass was driven into his feet. A small part of you in the back of your mind felt horrible seeing him in pain but the rest of your brain was still in shut-down mode.

Once he made it across the room, Tyler carried you down the stairs, avoiding debris and broken concrete along the way. And as he reached the parking lot, you heard a familiar voice call out.

“T!” You could just see Boone rushing towards you out of the corner of your eye. “You guys alright?”

“For the most part.” Boone stumbled to a stop when he saw you shivering in Tyler’s arms but Tyler just kept walking. As Boone fell back into step with him, Tyler asked, “Everyone else okay?”

“Y-Yeah. We crammed into your truck and put the augers down just in case, but it barely touched the parking lot. When you didn’t show up…” Boone’s voice was thick as he trailed off.

Tyler nodded. “We tried getting outta the room but the window shattered. We’ve got glass stuck in us everywhere and she hit her head when we were thrown back. It’s bleeding but I don’t think it’s too bad, slight concussion at worst. But I think she’s gone into shock. Dani, can you get some blankets? I’m gonna put her in your van so I can take a better look at her.”

“On it.” 

You hadn’t even realized the rest of the Wranglers had gathered around you until you heard Dani’s voice beside you. Lily placed a gentle hand on your trembling shin but you did not acknowledge it. It was too hard. Everything was too hard. Your head still hurt like crazy, but more than that, you felt like your battery had been completely drained. Even just keeping your eyes open felt like a Herculean task and you could barely grasp what was happening around you for more than a moment before everything drifted away again like smoke on the breeze. The only thing that felt real was Tyler’s heart beating against you.

A moment later, he set you down gently inside Dani and Dexter’s van, positioned so your legs still hung out the door. Kneeling in front of you, he ran his hands carefully over your still-quivering body to see if there were any other injuries he might have missed. When he didn’t find any, he sat back on his heels to look at you.

But you were only vaguely aware of any of this. Your head was hung, staring down at the pavement, looking at Tyler’s bare feet. You felt everything happening, but at the same time, you didn’t, your mind still floating in this strange dissociative space. You saw Tyler kneeling before you out of the corner of your eye, watched his thumb rub circles on your bare knee, yet there was no connection between him and you. It was as if you were watching him tend to someone else while you stood by and watched. 

Someone handed him a blanket and he carefully wrapped it around you, pulling it snugly and tucking it in around you so you were cocooned with only your hands free.

Then, in a voice tinted with concern and care, he murmured, “Hey, sweetheart. Can you look at me?” 

You didn’t want to. You didn’t want to do anything. You just wanted to slip back into the hazy fog building in your mind and forget everything that was happening. But it was Tyler who was asking you to do this, and you didn’t want to let him down. So, fighting every urge screaming at you, you focused all your willpower and slowly lifted your eyes to meet his. 

It was such a small accomplishment, yet Tyler let out a shaky sigh of relief and cupped your face. Voice trembling as a smile stretched across his face, he whispered, “There you are. There’s my brave, beautiful girl. You had me scared there for a minute. But it’s gonna be okay now. You’re safe and we’re gonna take care of you.” 

Someone muttered something behind him and he cocked his head to listen. Tyler scrubbed his hand across his face, but it did little to ease the deep lines carved there in the last half hour or so. But he shook his head.

Turning his attention back to you, he signed. “I have to go check on a few things then I’ll be right back. I’ll try to find us some fresh clothes too. That might make you feel a little better.” It was only then that you realized you were still just in your panties and Tyler’s blood-stained merch shirt while he was in nothing but his boxer briefs. Neither one of you had shoes on, a fact that was highlighted by the bloody puddle Tyler was standing in from all the glass cuts on his feet. But he didn’t seem to notice as he stepped closer to you. “Boone and Dex are coming with me, but Lily and Dani are going to stay with you the whole time and help patch you up, okay? And if you really need me before I get back, one of them will get me. Do you think you’ll be alright?” 

You nodded, or at least tried to. You still felt disconnected from your body and honestly weren’t sure if your head moved or not. But Tyler must have seen some sign of acknowledgment because he leaned forward and kissed you on the forehead. Then he started to go but only made it a single step before turning back. 

Placing his hand on your knee, he said, “Sweetheart, you’ve gotta let go of my hand.” Looking down, you saw your hand still desperately squeezing Tyler’s. With a concentrated effort, you managed to open your fist and Tyler pulled his hand away, massaging it with his other one to get the blood flowing again. Then he gave you a small smile. “I’ll just be a couple of minutes then I’ll be back. I promise.” He shot Dani and Lily a quick look, then disappeared into the crowd that had formed in the parking lot.

Lily sat down on the edge of the van next to you. Gently, she said, "Dani and I want to try to get some of that glass out of you. Would that be okay? It’ll probably sting a little.”

You gave another faint nod, even as you continued to stare at the ground. A moment later, you felt a small pinprick of pain just below your collarbone. Then another on your forehead. And another over your ribs. They didn’t hurt too badly—they felt similar to a mosquito bite—and actually, these slight pinches of pain were helping you come back to yourself. They were grounding you to your body once more. And when Dani pulled a particularly deep piece of glass out of your cheek, you flinched with a slight hiss. She muttered a soft, “I’m sorry” before continuing. 

After they had covered about half your body, carefully removing what glass they could with just their fingers, you finally felt a little more yourself. Your trembling had stopped and your body no longer felt as heavy. Running your tongue across your lips to wet them, you thickly mumbled, “It wasn’t like it was in the truck.”

It was the first time you had spoken since the storm broke, the words hoarse and scratchy from all of your screaming. Dani and Lily exchanged looks, before Lily asked, “I’m sorry?”

Slowly, you raised your head to look at her. “This storm. Being in it. It wasn’t like it was when we were in the truck.”

“No, I guess it probably wasn’t. But it’s over now and you’re okay. And Tyler should be back any minute.” Lily glanced over her shoulder, probably hoping to see Tyler walking back towards the van. But then she turned back to you. “Can we get you anything? Some water or something to eat?”

You shook your head. There was something you needed—the deep gnawing ache in your chest that had been there since Tyler left was the constant reminder of that—but you couldn’t find the words to explain what it was. Maybe it would ease when he returned. When he could hold you again and make all of this go away. Yet, you knew it wasn’t as simple as that. Even once Tyler came back, he couldn’t undo what had happened tonight.

Off in the distance, you heard a voice frantically screaming for someone but you couldn’t make out what they were saying. However, as it got closer, you sat up straight and jerked your head around, coming to life as you recognized the voice calling your name. Both Lily and Dani jumped slightly at your sudden movement, and Dani stuck her head out the side of the van. “Scott! She’s over here!”

A moment later, your brother appeared in the doorway, chest heaving, eyes wide, and dark, damp hair—for once not hidden beneath a cap—plastered to his face. 

With a sob, you threw the blanket to the side and dove at him. “Scotty!” 

You plowed into him, immediately wrapping him in the tightest hug you could manage as the numbness that had consumed you evaporated, leaving you a tearful sobbing mess. Scott stumbled back under the force of your tackle, his body rigid in your embrace. But a moment later, you felt his arms hesitantly wrap around you—lightly at first but soon clinging to you just as tightly as you were to him. You had never hugged your brother like this but as that ache in your chest began to lift, you realized it was what you had needed all along. After everything the two of you had been through and how rocky your relationship had gotten, in the end, what you needed most was your big brother to make things all better.

The two of you remained in your embrace for a long time, both of you relying on the other to keep you on your feet. Then Scott finally pulled away and placed his hands on your shoulders as he looked you over. “When I heard you were here…that there had been casualties…I thought…” He pulled you into another tight hug.

Hugging him back, you sniffed, “Tyler saved me. I didn’t even hear the sirens until he woke me up. Then the window blew when we tried to leave and I hit my head and I…I couldn’t move. I was so scared, Scotty. But then Tyler was there and he got me into the closest and protected me until it was over and he brought me here...and…and…”

You buried your face into his shoulder and began to sob again. Scott rubbed his hand across your back before helping you sit back down in the open back of the van. He gently tried to touch the back of your head but you flinched away. “Sorry,” he muttered as he continued to look you over. “Besides your head, are you okay? I see a lot of blood here.”

“It’s from the glass when their window broke,” Dani interjected. “Both her and Tyler were covered in it. We’ve tried to get as much out as we can but she should probably go somewhere to have a professional make sure it’s all gone.”

“Thank you…both of you.” For once, there was no snark or sarcasm in his tone as Scott addressed the two Wranglers. Placing his hand on top of your head, he asked, “Can I have a minute alone with my sister?”

Dani and Lily exchanged another look, then looked at you. You knew they had promised Tyler not to leave your side, so you nodded to let them know it was okay. They said they’d wait by Tyler’s truck which was farther down in the parking lot while still in view if you needed anything, then they left.

Once he waited long enough for them to get out of earshot, Scott crossed his arms over his chest and raised an eyebrow. “‘The glass from their broken window’, huh? So…you were with Owens.” 

For the first time, you realized you were still only wearing Tyler’s merch t-shirt—now filthy with dust and blood—which only just covered your panties. Self-consciously, you grabbed the blanket again and wrapped it around you, trying to cover as much of your bare skin as possible. 

“Scotty, I..I—”

But he cut you off by crouching down and placing his hands on your knees. “No, it’s okay. It doesn’t matter. I had no right to tell you you shouldn’t be with him in the first place. And now I’m glad you were together, otherwise I might have lost you.”

Tears filling your eyes once more, you placed your hand on his cheek. “I didn’t know you cared so much.”

“Is it terrible to say neither did I until I thought I was too late?” He dropped his head but you saw a few tears slip out as he squeezed his eyes shut. “I treated you so horribly since you arrived and I thought I didn’t want to have anything to do with you anymore. I was ready to cut you out of my life completely. But the second Javi told me the storm was heading straight for the motel the Wranglers had stopped at for the night, the motel you were only at because you were trying to give me my space…I don’t think I’ve ever been so scared in my life. And I realized at that moment that it’s not that I don’t care, it’s that I was afraid of giving you another chance and finding out you hadn’t changed, that you were that same person you were when we were growing up. And nothing hurts more than being rejected or betrayed by those you love, especially family. But that’s exactly what I did to you. And I’m so sorry.”

Sure, this might all be the situation talking and Scott might not feel the same way tomorrow or a month from now, but as he pulled you into another hug, you didn’t care. You finally felt like you had your brother back. 

As you hugged Scott, you saw over his shoulder that Tyler, Boone, and Dexter had joined the two girls by Tyler’s truck. Tyler must have either scavenged some of his clothes from your room or had spares in the truck because he was now wearing a pair of jeans—riding low on his hips due to the lack of his favorite belt and buckle—and tennis shoes, still no shirt. It was the first time you had ever seen him in something other than boots and it felt strange. At least his cowboy hat was settled on his head.

You couldn’t hear what they were talking about. Based on the anxious way Lily had her arms wrapped around herself and Tyler was standing with his hands on his hips as he stared at the ground shaking his head, a deep frown carved into his handsome face, whatever it was it wasn’t a pleasant conversation. Then Tyler lifted his head and looked towards the camper van. His eyes met yours and his frown lifted into a small smile—one that didn’t reach the rest of his face. His green eyes, usually sparkling with life, were now murky and troubled.

He walked over to you just as Scott pulled away, probably hearing someone approaching. Tyler nodded at him and said, “Scott. Do you think I can talk to her for a minute alone? We need to sort some stuff out after…” He gestured to the damaged motel behind him.

Scott nodded. “Yeah. But I’m not leaving my sister. I’ll wait by the front of the van until you’re done.” He started to walk away then paused. “And Ow–Tyler…thank you for protecting her.”

Tyler nodded. “I’m just sorry I couldn’t do a better job.”

Scott nodded again and disappeared in front of the van. 

Tyler sighed and turned back to you, just as you sat back down on the edge of the van. “I, uh, I managed to rescue some of our things from the room.” He placed your backpack by your feet. “I wasn’t sure what you might want to change into so I brought it all.”

“Thanks, Ty.”

His face brightened slightly. “Hey, I missed your voice. Though it does sound a little rough around the edges. Does it hurt?”

“Yeah, but it’s not too bad. I can’t remember how long I was screaming. By the time I realized I was even doing it, my throat was already sore. I ca-can’t remember a lot of what happened, honestly. Just the wind a-and hitting my head a-a-and…”

You started hyperventilating as you were suddenly back in the room, Tyler’s face looming over yours as the world crumbled around you. 

“Shh, it’s okay,” Tyler cooed as he took your face in his hands. 

It took a moment, but with him grounding you, you were able to pull yourself back under control. “I’m sorry,” you said, leaning into his touch. “It’s just a lot.”

“Yeah, that’s what I figured.” Sitting down next to you, Tyler hung his head with a sigh. After a moment, lifting his eyes to yours, he said, “Sweetheart, I need you to go home. Tonight.”

“What?” The panic you had felt before when the storm raged through your room gripped your heart once again as you tried to grasp what he was saying.

“You need to leave Oklahoma. Leave all of this.”

No. It didn’t make sense. Tyler was the one who had asked you to stay longer in the first place. Did your breakdown tonight change how he felt about you? “But Tyler, I thought we—”

“I know. And we were. But tonight just proved I can’t keep you safe. We got lucky this time, but I won’t be able to forgive myself if something happens to you because you’re out here with me. So I need you to go.”

For the hundredth time tonight, tears filled your eyes. In a voice barely more than a breath, you whispered, “I thought you cared about me.”

Tyler’s face shattered and he gathered you up into his arms. “Oh, sweetheart, if I didn’t care so much, I wouldn’t be asking you to do this. I haven’t felt like this about someone for a really long time and I don’t want it to end. But—”

You placed your fingers over his lips, refusing to let him finish that sentence. “Then don’t let it end. Let me stay.”

“And tomorrow when another storm passes through, are you gonna be okay with that? Even knowing that if you don’t go on a chase, a storm may still hit where you are and you’ll end up in the middle of it again?” You opened your mouth to answer but the thought of another experience like tonight made the words stick in your throat. Tyler noticed and nodded. “That’s what I thought.”

You hadn’t given thought to tomorrow or the next day or the next. You knew what happened tonight wouldn’t stop Tyler from chasing the next storm the moment one formed, but you also knew that you never wanted to see another tornado as long as you lived. This meant the two of you were now at odds, neither willing nor able to give in for the other—which meant Tyler was right. You needed to go. 

Yet knowing that and accepting what that meant were not the same thing. Lip quivering, you asked, “So, what? This is just it? I leave and we never see each other again?”

“We both knew that it had to end at some point. Even if you stayed until the last day of your break, you have to go back to school. And I'm heading back to Arkansas when the season’s over. We're just…we're just saying goodbye a little sooner than expected.”

“I don’t want to say goodbye at all,” you said, your fingers digging into his bare shoulders. “Ty, I need you.”

“You might not feel that way in a day or two,” he said sadly. “This was a traumatic experience for you—don’t say it wasn’t because I won’t ever forget that feeling of you trembling in my arms in that closet or the sounds of your screams knowing there was nothing I could do to help you—and I don’t want you to have to relive it every time you look at me.”

“Tyler Owens, you’re the only reason I’m still alive to do anything. I could never look at you like that.”

“You don’t know that. It kills me to say this, but I’m pretty sure that this isn’t over for you. Not by a long shot. I’ve helped enough survivors of these kinds of things to know the signs. And this is going to stick with you for a very long time. Different people deal with things in different ways, but one way you might deal with it may be separating yourself from any reminders of tonight—including me. And I don’t want to be the reason you’re still in pain.” 

 “But what if you’re wrong?” you cried. “What if you’re making me leave and I still want you in my life?”

“I’m not making you do anything. If you decide to stay, I won’t stop you. But I think if you really consider what that means, you’ll see leaving is the right choice.” As you nodded with a small sob, he sighed. “Listen, I’m only out here for a few more weeks. If by then you’ve processed everything that’s happened and still want to see me, I’ll be on the first plane to you. But if it’s all too much and you’d rather just move on…” His thumb gently circled a spot on your arm where they had removed one of the larger pieces of glass. “...then I’ll respect it.”

Snuggling your face into the crook of his neck, you mumbled, “I won’t want to move on. I just want you.”

“Then you’ll have me, sweetheart. I promise.” He pressed his lips to your forehead. “But you need to go home until then. Please…for me.”

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself, then nodded. Tyler squeezed you tightly then lifted you off his lap and placed you back onto the van floor. Standing up, he gazed down at you, his eyes damp with tears.

“Scott,” he called out, his eyes never wavering from yours. “Why don’t you take your sister to the hospital to get checked out? Then see about getting her on a flight home tomorrow.”

Scott stepped up to the side of the van. He looked from Tyler to you and asked, “Is that what you want?”

You shook your head, tears streaming down your face. “No…but it’s what’s best for everyone.”

Tyler gave you an encouraging smile, putting his hand on your shoulder and squeezing it, and you leaned your head against his hip, savoring his touch while you still could. Scott’s eyes followed every movement. Nodding softly, he said, “Okay. Let me check in with Javi and fill him in on what’s going on. I’ll meet you by Scarecrow in a few minutes.”

As Scott walked away, Tyler pulled you into him as he folded himself over you. Pressing his lips to your temple, he whispered, “Thank you.” Then he stepped back. “Why don’t you go get changed and I’ll walk you over to Scott when you’re done.”

“Or you could help me,” you whispered, peering up at him from under your eyelashes. “For old time’s sake.”

Tyler glanced over his shoulder and then asked, “Are you sure? I don’t know if you’re up for—”

“Nothing like that,” you said, shaking your head. “I just want to be with you as much as possible. Please, Ty.”

He nodded and helped you stand before you both climbed into the camper van. As he slid the door closed, you rummaged through your backpack and pulled out a pair of shorts and a halter top. With a start, you realized it was the same outfit you had been wearing the day you arrived in Oklahoma. The one you had been wearing when you first met Tyler. It felt strangely perfect so you closed the backpack and turned to show them to Tyler. 

Based on the way his eyes softened as they landed on the outfit, he remembered it too. He walked over to you and gathered the bottom of the merch shirt you were wearing in his hands. When you nodded, he carefully lifted it over your head and tossed it to the floor. He inhaled as he saw the cuts that now littered your body from the glass. Gently, he trailed his fingers over a few of them on your arms, then he dropped to his knees in front of you.

As you stood there in nothing but your bra and panties, he grabbed your hips and pulled you close to him. Then he began kissing the cuts across your stomach, starting with the ones just above your panty line. Then he moved up your body, placing a long, lingering kiss on each and every cut. Your eyes fluttered as he reached your breasts—he placed an extra-long kiss on the cut at the top of your cleavage. Then he continues up onto your neck, finally reaching your face. 

But as he started to kiss the cuts on your cheeks, you had waited long enough. You grabbed his head and turned it so his lips pressed against yours. Less than three weeks together, and you had been so sure you never wanted to kiss anyone else after Tyler. Yet, here you were about to walk out of his life, possibly forever. How much had changed in a single night.

Tyler finally pulled away, resting his head against yours. Panting slightly, he muttered, “You should get dressed. We better not keep your brother waiting.”

After you were ready, Tyler walked you back to his truck to say goodbye to the rest of the Wranglers. Until that moment, you hadn’t realized that not only might you never see Tyler again, but you might never see the rest of your new friends again either. That fact brought a fresh wave of tears to your eyes. 

As Tyler grabbed a shirt out of his backseat, you tried to hold it together as you bid farewell to each Wrangler. You thanked Dani and Lily for everything they had done for you that night. Individually, you thanked Dani for all of her advice and how she always had your back when you were first starting out with Tyler. You gave Lily a huge hug and thank you for your tattoo. Even after what happened, you had no regrets and would treasure it for the rest of your life. You thanked Dexter for taking you on as his food prep helper and for everything he had taken the time to teach you about food, tornados, and just life in general. Boone was the hardest to say goodbye to since you both looked like you were about to burst into tears. But when you pulled him into a hug, you whispered, “Please look out for him for me” to which Boone nodded and hugged you tighter. 

Taking one last look at everyone, you waved and promised to keep in touch. Then Tyler—now wearing one of his plaid shirts—placed his hand on your back and led you to Scarecrow. As heartbroken as you already felt, you didn’t know how you would survive what came next.

Scott and Javi were standing next to the passenger’s door when you arrived. You held open your arms and Javi stepped forward into them. You thanked him for running interference this trip and apologized again for any uncomfortable situations you put him in. He said he was glad to have helped and to see that you were okay after tonight’s storm. You saw Tyler shift out of the corner of your eye and you remembered what he said earlier. Hopefully, you really were okay. 

When you turned to grab your backpack from Tyler, Javi let out a snort of laughter while Scott made a strangled internal scream. Turning back in confusion, you felt heat rush to your face as you realized your halter top clearly showed off your tattoo. You gave them both a sheepish smile. Javi just nodded, a wide grin spread across his face, while Scott put one hand on his hip while he pinched the bridge of his nose with the other. 

Tyler chuckled as he steered you over to your brother. “Sorry we forgot to mention that, Scotty. But since she became a Wrangler, we let her decide if she wanted to make it official.” His eyes met yours. “And once a Wrangler, always a Wrangler. No matter what.”

“No matter what,” you whispered back, staring deep into his eyes.

Scott groaned as he rubbed his temples. “Could you please just get in the fucking truck? I don’t think I can handle any more surprises tonight.”

 “Sorry,” both you and Tyler muttered at the same time. 

As Tyler helped you climb into Scarecrow, you said one last goodbye to Javi before he walked away and Scott hurried over to the driver’s side. He got in and started the truck, but as your door slammed shut, you motioned for him to put down the window. With a sigh, he did what he was asked. 

Reaching out the window, your fingers curled into Tyler’s shirt, afraid if you let go, he would disappear. Holding back your tears, you choked out, “Don’t you fucking dare forget to call.”

Tyler nodded, a soft smile on his lips even as you saw tears glistening in his green eyes. Dipping his head slightly, he murmured, “Yes, ma’am.” 

He leaned in the window and pressed a kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment. Then he started to pull back, but you wrapped your hand around the back of his neck to stop him as you leaned out the window, your lips crashing into his. If this might be the last time you even saw Tyler Owens, you were going to make it a moment to remember the rest of your life. The kiss wasn’t as passionate or frenzied as some of the ones you shared once you had retreated to your room for the night, but there was a deep desperation there that you felt in your soul. You needed him to know that you didn’t want to leave him. To leave no doubt that you still wanted him despite his fears the trauma of the night would change your mind. 

And most of all, you wanted him to feel the sincerity in your next words.

Pulling away slightly, you whispered, “I still don’t regret a second of our time together. Because I love you, Ty.”

Without hesitation, Tyler whispered, “I love you too, sweetheart. And that’s why I need you to do what’s best for you. Even if that means I’m not a part of that life. Promise me.”

“I promise.”

“Thank you.” Taking your hand, he pressed one final kiss to the back of it. “Goodbye, my brave, beautiful girl.”

A tear rolled down your cheek as you said, “Goodbye, my big, bad Tornado Wrangler.”

With a smile and tears in his eyes, Tyler let your hand go and he stepped away from the truck. Before you could change your mind, Scott put the truck in gear and pulled out of the parking lot. 

For several miles, you stared out the passenger’s window, silently crying. Scott glanced at you out of the corner of his eye before turning back to look at the road. “You really like him, don’t you?” You nodded. “Damn. I thought it was just your way of messing with me.”

You sighed. “It was…at first. I remembered you had mentioned him and how much you hated his crew so after what you said to me when I first got here, I thought it would be nice to see you squirm watching us together. But as soon as I started getting to know him, everything changed. I’ve never met a man like Tyler Owens before, and I doubt I ever will again.”

“Yeah, well, despite how he saved you tonight, I’m still not happy to find out he’s been shacking up with my little sister,” he mumbled under his breath.

Turning to face him with a chuckle, you asked, “Do you really think Tyler’s the first guy I’ve slept with?”

Scott’s hands tightened around the steering wheel. “It’s not something I like to think about. But no…I remember those times Mom caught you in high school.”

“Oh my god!” you burst out laughing. “I still can’t believe she never once tried to stop us or ban the guys from the house. She would just turn bright red and hurry back out the room then pretend she never saw anything.” The smile that had bloomed across your damp face suddenly deflated. “Yet the one time they found you with that topless cheerleader, they almost kicked you out of the house.” You closed your eyes. “Scotty, I’m so sorry for how they treated you. Or for how they treated me. Or both. It wasn’t fair and you deserved better than that. I’m sorry I didn’t realize that sooner.”

Scott shifted in his seat. “Yeah, well, it wasn’t fair for me to be mad at you for what they did. You didn’t ask to be treated differently and I shouldn’t have blamed you for something you had no control over. Yeah, you didn’t have to be such a spoiled brat all the time, but I probably would have done the same if I were in your position.”

“So…what does this mean? For us?” you asked hesitantly.

“I don’t know.” His eyes shifted over to look at you once more. “But I’m willing to try if you are.”

“I always was.”

The two of you continued to chat on the way to the hospital, reminiscing about your childhoods and, surprisingly, recalling more happy moments together than either of you thought there were. You guessed they had just been blocked by all the pain and resentment that had built up over the years. 

And as Scott pulled into the hospital parking lot, you couldn’t help but smile at this parting gift Tyler had given you. He could have easily taken you to the hospital and then to the airport—in fact, you were sure it went against every chivalrous bone in his body not to. But instead, he let Scott take you which had given the two of you the time you needed to finally mend that rift between you. 

He had given you your brother back.

Epilogue coming 10/21!!!

[writerblue275]

I read Heartsteel!Sett becoming a dad and AUUUUUH MY HEART I LOVED IT 😭❤️😭❤️

and now I gotta predictably ask about Heartsteel!Kayn becoming a dad cuz I’m wEAK HFJFJFHHF

Mystic!! Hello!!! I’m so glad you enjoyed my Heartsteel!Sett dad headcanon! But ooooh Heartsteel’s resident bad boy becoming a dad? I love it. Let’s gooooooo! (Also listen I totally get it. I’m WEAK for Kayn too he's just such a menace to my sanity I swear to god.😭)

Heartsteel!Kayn becoming a dad

Previous members: Sett

Genre: Headcanon

Type: FLUFF (with slight frank discussion of unprotected sex and v slight suggestive undertones at one point.)

Gender: Not necessarily specified but mention of carrying a pregnancy and such (though sex does not equal gender as we all know).

TW: Swearing. Discussion of risks of unprotected sex. Discussion of pregnancy things and labor.

Extra context: In this instance we’re assuming a well-settled relationship. Like cohabitation and shit.

So the start of this really depends on on an important factor: Is the baby planned? Because while I think Kayn’s course of action and thoughts would eventually line up on the same path regardless if the baby is planned or not, his initial reaction I could see being SUPER different. In this scenario, let’s say the baby isn’t planned:

Now of course Kayn knew there was a risk. Both of you did. No matter how prepared and careful both of you were before/while/after having sex, nothing is truly 100% effective at preventing a pregnancy besides abstinence. And let’s be so for real, abstinence and Kayn are like oil and water. Also it’s not like you didn’t want him. You certainly enjoyed yourself as much as he did.

And sure he’d thought a little bit about an accidental baby.

But not MUCH. And he certainly didn’t expect it to actually happen.

So when you tell him the news and show him the positive pregnancy test, it’s almost like he’s hit by lighting.

Kayn freezes, his wide eyes glued to the positive pregnancy test in your hand. “P-pregnant? Holy shit, (Y/N), you’re pregnant?

You sigh and nod. “Y-yeah…and I-I don’t know what to do…I don’t know what you want to do. I kn-know this isn’t r-really part of our p-plans right n-now. I-I wasn’t positive that’s what was g-going on until I took the s-second test today...” your voice fades off and your bottom lip wobbles ever so slightly.

The change in your voice has him looking back at your face, and seeing the distress in your eyes, Kayn quickly, but gently, reaches out and pulls you to him, wrapping you in a tight hug. He realizes this is as much of a shock to you as it is to him.

As you burrow against his shoulder and let out a sniffle, he kisses the top of your head. “Hey…hey, it’s okay, angel,” he murmurs. “Please don’t cry…please don’t cry, baby…I’m just surprised, that’s all. Yes this isn’t what we planned for right now, but I guess when the hell does life ever go according to plan?”

“Y-you’re not upset? Or mad?” your voice trembles.

Kayn gently makes you look at him, pecking your lips softly. “Baby, why would I be upset or mad? It’s not like you’re at fault for anything. I was just as much involved in this. Besides, we talked about the possibility of having kids in the future. And while we didn’t expect this part of our future to come so soon, what I know is you’re the person I want to have my future with. I love you. You make me the best version of myself and I can’t see my future with anyone else but you. If you want to have this baby, then I’ll be right next to you the entire way, helping you kick pregnancy’s ass and we’ll raise the coolest and most badass kid anyone has ever met.”

You let out a little laugh at that and wipe your eyes.

He grins at your reaction. “So don’t worry about what I want. Because all I want is for you to be happy, (Y/N). Whatever you want to do, I love you and I’m with you all the way.” He emphasizes his point with a kiss to your forehead.

Kayn’s reaction was better than you could have ever imagined. And you know he means everything he said, so…you and him decide to become parents.

And while of course becoming a father meant some things had to change, it wasn’t as big of a behavior shift as one might think.

He’d already given up drinking/substances (sober!Kayn headcanon returns!) and he wasn’t as much of a party animal as he used to be before he met and fell in love with you. He wasn’t kidding when he said you bring out the best version of himself.

Can you imagine Kayn telling the rest of Heartsteel the news? (I think he’d tell them early on since he’d want to be able to go to your appointments and such.) Their mix of shock and glee.

Ezreal: *Nearly levitating in excitement* “No fucking way!!! Wait can I be the godfather??? I call dibs on being the godfather!!”

Everyone else: *Jaws dropped, eyes wide, and staring at Kayn. Yone’s second cold brew of the day is now splattered on the floor.* (😂)

Kayn: *frowns* “What?? Turns out the idea of being a dad actually sounds pretty cool...”

*Raucous cheering commences and Kayn becomes the bottom of a dog pile of happy band mates/friends*

And trust, he’s keeping all of Heartsteel updated on how you’re doing. They are now very used to Kayn rambling on and on about your last appointment, how the nursery is going, how big the baby is this week, etc…

You might not expect it, but he’s super involved in your appointments, asking your OBGYN all sorts of questions. He’s genuinely curious and he wants to make sure he learns and understands as much as possible.

He will take off as much time as necessary to take you to appointments and Lamaze classes. Thankfully the rest of Heartsteel understands and they are cool with it.

And when Kayn sees the tiny blob at your first ultrasound, you notice him discreetly clear his throat as he hugs you tightly.

You quickly realize this kid has their father already wrapped around their little finger…and their little finger isn’t even developed yet!

Surprisingly excellent at helping you through bouts of morning sickness. He’s happy to hold back your hair if need be, and he’ll always help you straighten/freshen up once you’re through a spell.

Wasn’t prepared for the hormonal mood swings at first, tbh. The first time you burst into tears over a cute little kitten video, Kayn was genuinely a little alarmed. But he quickly realized what was going on.

Your crazy cravings don’t phase him. He’s always down to run out and grab you whatever food you want.

And not just food either. He’s ready to run out and grab any kind of supplies for you (though he very jokingly complains about it. But he makes it very clear he’s just kidding and he doesn’t actually mind).

And despite all the physical changes to your body, Kayn makes it clear he still finds you attractive. He makes that VERY clear. 😉

Being with you already brought his soft side out. That just increases exponentially while you’re pregnant. Kayn absolutely loves to play the guitar for you and the baby. He’ll play lullabies while you two are unwinding from the day. (If you sing, sing along with him because oh my god it makes him so happy when you do. He’d love to pass on a love of music to this baby early.)

And when he’s not playing guitar, he’s reading through the absolute mountain of parenting books he bought/borrowed from the library.

He’s trying to be as prepared as humanly possible. But there’s also an underlying anxiety to his obsessive reading. The last thing he wants is to let you or the baby down. Be sure to reassure him you believe he’ll be a good dad.

(In the Heartsteel universe we’re not exactly told what Zed is to Heartsteel!Kayn, but considering his role and the relationship between the two in base Runeterra lore, I’m imagining Zed as Kayn’s adoptive father.)

He’s calling Zed often and asking him for advice. And Zed is ready to assist you if Kayn is busy with Heartsteel or out of town for something. Just text him.

Kayn’s super eager to find out the sex of the baby. One of the first questions he asked the OBGYN was “How long until we know whether it’s a boy or girl?”

He doesn’t have a preference one way or the other, he just wants to know. The baby will be so loved regardless.

So once the two of you are at the 20-week ultrasound appointment, he’s so excited to finally get an answer.

And when the OBGYN reveals the baby is a girl? Holy shit Kayn’s so thrilled. He’s so happy he starts crying and laughing as he hugs you. (Tough bad boy becoming the biggest girl dad oh my GODDDDDDD 😭.)

And now that he knows the sex of the baby, this man is going to go OFF when it comes to buying things for her.

He found a black onesie with a pink skull and crossbones (with a bow) that says “Punk Rock Girl.” He bought four.

And once it’s time for the baby to come? Kayn is incredible. There’s a small wave of panic at the beginning because “holy fuck oh my god it’s actually fucking happening.” But he quickly realizes that panicking won’t help shit in this scenario. So he takes you to the pre-packed car (that he did himself and triple checked), takes a deep breath, and gets you to the hospital.

Kayn is your biggest advocate in the hospital. He’s making sure you are being listened to when it comes to how you’re feeling and what you want.

He’s encouraging you the whole way. Leading you through your Lamaze techniques, telling you to squeeze his hand as hard as you need to, and encouraging you to swear as much as you need to.

And even when you start cursing him out from pain for being “a god damn sexy and charismatic jackass and doing this to me, putting me in this position,” he keeps his cool, instead apologizing to you and telling you he’s right here and that he loves you.

Once it’s time for you to push, Kayn is right next to you, wiping your forehead, making sure you’re taking deep breaths, and counting you into pushes.

“Look at me, (Y/N). Eyes on me.” Kayn’s voice is gentle but urgent as he gently puts his finger on your chin and turns your head towards him. “That’s it, beautiful. Holy shit, you’re doing so well. I love you so much and I’m so fucking proud of you. Like doc said, one more big push and she’ll be out. Deep breath. I’ll count down from three and when I say “push” you give it all you got, okay? Ready? Alright angel, let’s meet our little girl. Breathe in....and 3…..2…..1…..push!”

And you do it. You give one final push and out she comes, squalling loudly, covered in vernix (newborn goop).

And Kayn finally lets all his emotions go, hugging you tightly and nuzzling your neck as he starts to tear up.

His voice is muffled against your neck. “I’m so fucking proud of you, (Y/N). She’s here….our daughter is here.” He lets out a happy laugh and kisses your forehead, gently wiping away your tears. “You alright, Angel? Can I get you anything?”

You hug him tightly, exhausted but happy, shaking your head. "Not besides babygirl. How is she?”

He nods. "They’re getting her cleaned off. (Y/N), she is perfect. Absolutely perfect. Just like you.”

The L&D nurse walks over. “Dad? Would you like to cut the umbilical cord?”

Kayn’s face lights up and he smiles at you. “Hell yeah…”

The sight of your partner carefully cutting your daughter’s umbilical cord is extremely sweet. He's being so careful, almost as if he's afraid he'll accidentally hurt her.

And as he looks down at her tiny form, he swears to himself right then and there, he's not letting anyone or anything harm her.

And once they hand her to you and you gently tease him as his happy tears fall, he just looks up at you with a grin, not even trying to play his tears off as "dust in my eyes" like he sometimes does.

You can’t help but laugh as he comments on her lung capacity and how she’s already ready to be a singer.

"She's what, not even ten minutes old and she already beats Ezreal's lung capacity and his higher range! He's gonna be so fucking jealous!"

(A/N: Ok so I know I stopped with Sett’s at the hospital right after labor, but I have an extra tidbit for Kayn’s and I NEED to write it down.)

You know how when athletes/musicians have babies/little kids, the other parent might bring them to cheer on the famous parent but they cover their ears with really strong noise-cancelling headphones to protect their ears/hearing?

Imagine doing that for Kayn at Heartsteel shows!!! Dressing up baby girl in a small version of his paranoia jacket with custom Kayn-designed stitching on the back (courtesy of Sett).

And imagine if Kayn got custom ear protection for her. And on each earphone is a print of his Rhaast mask, matching the custom necklace he bought you early on in your relationship. “So everyone knows who's with me.”

Ah! That would be so fucking cool. And when he sees the two of you the first time you bring her, oh my god, his heart is ready to burst. Especially when you blow him a kiss and wave one of her little hands at him. Kayn can’t help but grin like an absolutely besotted idiot for a second. Honestly you two being at his shows to cheer him on is his favorite thing. It reminds him why he does what he does. For his little family.

Who knew this bad boy could turn into such a family man? 🥹

Ahhhh thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed my latest contribution to Dad!Heartsteel headcanons!! I was so excited to get this request!! 2/6 done. Let me know which Heartsteel member should become a dad next! 💙

[dancingbabya-notes]

Your scars are beautiful

<-•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•->

Everyone gains scars; it's a part of life, no one is immune to that. From small ones that are barely noticeable to ones that signify or are a reminder of a very strong memory. A badge of honor, a reminder of a mistake, luck that no one else was harmed, or a bad memory. (PS the only reason I wrote this is because the most recent chapters I've read are rotting my brain and I sometimes think a little too hard about my own scars)

Characters: Todoroki, Mirio, Midoriya, Amajiki, Bakugo, Kirishima, Kaminari, Shinso, Shoji

Spoiler warning: there are spoilers for the bnha/MHA manga in Shoji’s part so if you don’t want that please don’t bother reading.

Tw: trauma, mention of falling from extreme heights, mentions of child abuse, mentions of abuse, mention of self harm, 

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Todoroki

Sometimes you would walk into your shared room with Shoto, he looks at his face so intently in the mirror. But trying to imagine him without the burn scar on his face was difficult. That was your only image of him since school. Today he seemed to be intently picking at the skin around the old scar.

Walking up behind him you put his hands down so they sat in his lap as you hug him tightly. “Sho, Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” He states, his low voice not expressing much emotion but for some reason you just knew.

“Do you wanna touch my scar?” You ask, he blinked.

You were very protective of your own scars, it wasn’t because it was an old scar. It wasn’t because of anything sad, it was because you went too far. Like Icarus you flew too close to the sun and lost your wings. When it happened you remember him reaching for you and the pain in his eyes.

“Are you sure, my love?” He looks at you in the mirror.

“Of course, you always tell me you find comfort when I touch your scar,” you smile.

“No,” he shakes his head, his hand sitting comfortably in yours. “Just sitting with me right now is fine.”

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

“It’s an old story.”

“That doesn’t mean it can stir new feelings,” you offer, giving him a slight squeeze.

Shoto thinks for a moment, mouth opening and closing a few times as time seemed to stretch before he found the right words. “I know now…why my mother felt the way she did. But I can’t… help but feel I had been too hasty in forgiving her. Or… that I’m wrong for not forgiving… my father.”

You try to think of a good thing to say but you weren’t sure if your words would bring him solace or pester the pain more. “I think you need to talk to them again. While it may open old bleeding wounds I feel telling them how you’re feeling might help. If you want I can sit with you when you do?”

“No, I feel it will only cause me unnecessary pain,” he sighs.

“But emotional pain can come up later,” you mumble then to realize. “Sho, are you worried that we will be bad parents to our children?”

“Yes,” he pulls on your hand a bit, stretching it a bit beyond to position that was slowly making pins and needles prick at your skin.

“No one’s perfect, but all we can do is try our best and make up for the mistakes we make. If you want when we start a family we can go to counseling,” you suggest. “That way we can get a second option, you might also get some closure with the pain you feel regarding your parents.”

Shoto pulls you around to face him, kind of sitting his lap but with his arms around you instead of you’re around him. You smile as he buries his face into your hoodie.

“You always seem to know what to say my love.”

Kirishima

“Babe?”

Flinching you quickly roll your pant leg back down. It was moments like these where you wish the mirror didn’t make you feel so small.

“There you are,” Eijiro smiles as he pulls you into a hug. “I thought you were asleep or something.”

“I was just antsy,” you mumble. “Sorry I should have said I was in here.”

He looks at you and he can tell. “Your scars are making you anxious, aren’t they?”

You nod.

He starts peppering your face in kisses. “It’s not your fault, it wasn’t something we could help. Nurse didn’t know.”

Nurse. Without her you didn’t want to know what would have happened to you. Your hero career would have ended that day. Even the short month to recuperate wasn’t enough time, you still had nightmares, waking up screaming, and the phantom pains. The reminder was the scars. Why couldn’t you move past this?

“I know.”

Eijiro picks you up and sits on the bed with you in his arms. He kissed your face, but you could tell where he was kissing. He had a purpose. Your body was littered with scars, the proof of your life and the things you’ve dealt with. The thin one just above your eye was from when your brother spent a day drawing portals through the house and you had fallen through one out into the tree. The smooth one by your ear from a surgery that had been found to be unnecessary: the hospital had mixed up your chart with another child patient, your mom was not enthused.

The one under your eye from when you accidentally cut your face, having thought you put the exact blade down, you were lucky you didn’t get your eye. He brings your hands up and he kisses your fingers, the paper thin cuts you’d gotten from learning how to cook and other craft related accidents. A small giggle escapes as he looks you in the eye for a moment.

“You don’t have to do this,” you smile.

“But I want to.”

With each kiss you were reminded of the origin of the scar. Your left hand: a wet rock from the river by the summer house. Your right wrist: the bracelet you wore during a spontaneous rescue during second year. Your shoulders: the burns from an old mission. Your stomach: an inconsolable attacker. Every memory was fine until he kissed your legs. The perfect lined scars that cut straight accords your knees.

Your breath shook a bit as the tears started. You were so scared. Plenty of other times you’d been scared but when you couldn’t feel your feet or toes, or even just the pain, were the most terrifying two minutes of your life.

His hands touched the scar and you flinched. “I know that I’m lucky. So many people pity me now.”

“Who cares what they feel about your scars,” your boyfriend pulls you back into his lap, peppering the top of your head and your forehead with kisses. “What matters is you are here, you are safe, and the pain you feel will disappear. It will fade into a bad memory.”

“I know. But what if-

“Y/n, if anything had happened we would have figured it out. Okay?”

You nod. “Thank you Eiji.”

Midoriya

When you see Midoriya’s scars, the ones on his hands, his arms, anywhere you wonder, would it have been better if you realized and accepted your second quirk sooner. You had grown used to using the regenerative ability given to you by the monster that forced your creation. Body torn to shreds over and over again, everyone always talked about how lucky you were. But were you?

You could lose a finger and if you consume enough toxins you could grow it back without worry. Your body showed no signs of scarring, well not visible at first glance. You had one scar. It was small and you just knew it was a part of you now.

“Cookie? Is there something on me? Don’t tell me there’s another water-

“No, you’re fine.” You shake your head and you smile looking at your boyfriend. “Have I ever mentioned that you’re beautiful?”

Midoriya didn’t seem to know what to say, his jaw hung open as he quickly covered his mouth and turned away. You chuckle slowly breaking into a laugh as he blushes so hard you could see it on his back from his shoulders.

“Cookie,” he whines and you slowly try to catch your breath.

Standing up you smile before taking his hand and kissing the first scar you’d ever seen on him. “It’s true. I think you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met.”

You weren’t sure what it was but he pulled you close to him before kissing the top of your left ear. Which made you embarrassed, the only imperfection you had. A slight notch in the top of your ear. Like someone had cut a slice of it out. At the time you must have been no older than three or four, the faint memory of pain and then it ending.

“I think you are far more beautiful than I am,” he smiles before you push him away.

“Put on a fucking shirt,” you scold.

Mirio

“Sunshine, are you okay you’re shaking?”

Putting the pot down you think. “I’m fine though. Huh?”

Turning your. Hands over and over you did notice a slight shake, but that was normal right? Frowning it was odd when old memories would be triggered.

“Ah, I know what’s wrong.” You chuckle nervously. “I remembered when my mom had a hard time moving the pot to the table because she didn’t want us to burn our hands on the plates.”

Mirio was a bit confused. “Why did you think about that?”

You flex your wings and shift the feathers to the side a bit to show the one spot where only short feathers grew, it didn’t impair  your flying and you were surprised you could even fly at this age. “She dropped the pot, my dad was so angry he hit her and got me in the crossfire.”

Though you had a light hearted smile on your face Mirio frowns. “I’m sorry to hear that Sunshine.”

You wave your hand dismissively. “If I hadn’t witnessed that I’m sure you and I would have never met. Don’t apologize, it made me think that I hope my mom is in a better place, and I will be very very careful who I marry if I ever do.”

Mirio had thought much about how you’d grown up, it was partially because you never talked about it. He didn’t want to pry usually but he did want to know as much as you were comfortable sharing.

“How do you feel about scars anyway?” You ask.

“They’re proof we live,” he smiles before brushing his hand against your feathers.

You shriek, pulling away quickly and stumbling forward. Groaning you clutch your side, having effectively slammed your entire weight into the corner of the counter.

“A warning,” you gasp. “Please, my feathers are sensitive.”

“R-right.”

Shaking your head you start laughing only to be paused from the pain shooting up your body.

Amajiki

Your partner watches intently as you work. He always did this, because he said it made him feel better. Watching you work when he had nothing to do. Somewhere along the way of learning you had been given the task to create new things for uniform fabrics. He remembered how when you both met and you made him something only for him to learn how your quirk actually worked.

Your blood infused with fabrics could change them drastically. A fabric that couldn’t be cut with most known blades unless you bled on it. A super stretchy fabric that didn’t wear easily if at all, water resistant fabric, changing a fabric to be flame retardant. Your quirk was virtually limitless if you had drawn enough blood.

“Tamaki? You’re staring pretty hard right now, did I mess up the pattern somewhere?” You pause a bit confused as you look over the piece.

Chuckling a big he shakes his head. “I just thought you looked beautiful.”

Okay now you messed up, quickly switching off the machine you felt yourself gradually melt to the floor. “What did I do to deserve someone as kind as you?”

“N-no I’m the lucky one,” he argues.

“I’m not beautiful and you know that, all these scars from trying to figure out how to use my quirk.” You laugh jokingly.

But Tamaki grabs your hands tightly. “You are beautiful, scars and all.”

You couldn’t help but smile, it was a stupid smile that one only makes when they’re drunk on love. “You’re beautiful too Tamaki. As beautiful as the moon.”

His face quickly reddens, but he did have enough sense to pick you up off the floor. Your work space was a workplace hazard in more ways than one.

“Don’t ever say your scars aren’t beautiful, without your abilities some many more people would be in danger,” he huffs, his ears burning from his embarrassment from your earlier comment.

“Mm, I’ll try.”

Bakugo

Katsuki hardly cared about his scars. He took care of his body and as long as he could do his job as a hero who cared what he looked like. But usually he’d skim over his scars when getting changed and a recent exchange made him angry seeing his scars.

You were working like usual, heroes were still plentiful but the job was safe. Your hero costume featured a mask to shield your face from others. Only he and a few trusted people ever saw your face without the mask. So during the recent publicity event when someone chastised and scolded you for your scar Katsuki had to be held back.

“It’s fine, I’m used to it,” you had said, but you still cried yourself to sleep in his arms.

It was a scar that left you permanently inhibited, taking one eye with it. After all the healing you’d gone through and everything one person’s comment could still bring you down.

“Tsuki? Are you okay?” You ask, crossing your arms.

He scoffs. “I’m fine.”

“Tomorrow is the gala right?”

“Mm.”

“Would you be mad if I said I’d rather stay home?”

Why? He didn’t want to go, you didn’t, might as well.

“Then we don’t have to go.” He shakes the wrinkles out of his shirt before folding it.

You pause. “What?”

“I didn’t stutter.”

“I never said you did, are you sure we can just-

Katsuki stops folding the clothes and faces you. “I’m tired, so are you. Plus, you need a break from your mask. Whose fucking idea was it for it to be so tight to your face? Can’t even fucking breathe properly in that damn thing.”

You blink. “Wait, do you think I’m upset about what that person said?”

He narrows his eyes.

“Katsuki, seriously? I’ve had this scar since I was like five. Sure as shit ain’t pretty, but someone who doesn’t matter to me isn’t gonna make me upset.” You laugh. “If this hadn’t happened to me I would have never learned how to feel around for water and sense things with it.”

He smirks, pulling you into a hug. “Damn right. But we’re still not going to the gala.”

“Don’t wanna wear a tie?”

He didn’t answer you.

Kaminari

When you got married to Denki the first thing he did was make you cry. Because for some reason that was shut what he did. At your wedding in front of all your friends. Were you drunk? No. Had it been a long day? Yes. But somehow it was even more memorable.

Instead of a traditional or western “wedding” you both decided a small get together for family and friends would be so much better, on the condition your parents even showed up. As you looked at the scar that you both shared across your arms you couldn’t help but giggle.

“What are you looking at bumblebee?” He asked and his voice seemed to fall. “Oh.”

For Kaminari it held a different meaning. You were always so careful, it came with the territory of being a support item creator especially with a quirk like yours. Telekinesis could be powerful and used in many different ways but you used it both as a crutch and a tool to protect yourself. So when he saw that his mistake blemished your skin he thought “I just vowed to protect her and got her hurt.”

“I feel like it’s beautiful. Luckily Yoko could heal it up,” you smile brushing your fingers on your own scar.

“I’m sorry.”

You frown. “I like this scar. It’s not the first one I’ve ever gotten but it’s ours.”

“I didn’t know that knives could split like that if the wrong pressure is placed on it.”  He mumbles.

“It’ll be a good teaching moment for when this one gets older.” You coo brushing the hair from the child’s eye. “I’m sure Teru will think it’s funny how his parents share a scar. Though I think the story of how we met  will top that.”

“I guess you’re right. But I’m still sorry,” Kaminari pouts.

“You have more than made up for it, my overpowered pikachu.” You grab him by the face and squeeze it a bit before kissing him.

“Do you think Teru will get scars?”

“As he gets older yeah,” you nod, looking at the baby again.

“You’re happy with me right y/n?” Denki squeezes your scarred hand with his own.

“Of course I am. Accidental exploding knife and all. I think that made our wedding more memorable for me,” you chuckle. “I feel like it was my fault.”

“No, you can’t do anything wrong.”

Shinso

You smile as you finish giving the kitten a bath. Fostering the stray cats so they could be taken care of or at least fixed was probably one of the few things you were glad your house could accommodate. Which made you think about the first time things like this happened. Trying to help a stray dog which resulted in a nasty bite as a child. But regardless you got the dog to safety. Your mom wasn’t all that happy about the bite.

“Hey puddin,” you smile as the older cat rubs against your face. “You know where to leave your gifts. Hitoshi will be coming over tonight.”

You giggle thinking about the first time you met him. Helping out at your parents' rescue center Shinso Hitoshi came in with his arms and face bleeding as the cat tried to free itself of his hold. You damn near panicked because of it. Even laughing with him as you patched him up.

“Look we match.” He joked showing his own bite mark wound.

As he walked in you held the now dry kitten, purring snatched the kitten from you and started taking care of it herself.

“Okay mama, looks like my job is done.” You roll your eyes about to wash your hands.

“Was there any trouble?” Hitoshi asks puttting the groceries down.

“No, I just thought about how I met you.” You hum.

Hitoshi thinks for a moment and nods. “Oh, well I’m glad we match. Doing stuff like this would be hard otherwise.”

You look at the scars you both bear, if not for these you might never have met your best friend.

Shoji

When you met Shoji you had never expected it to be through your quirk. The ability to walk through people’s dreams and exist in that separate space. He’s much taller than you so even if your eyes weren’t glued to the floor you wouldn’t have usually made eye contact with him. Once you spent more time with him you had wondered about the mask why he wore it, but in fear of prying you kept your questions to yourself.

You’d always lived in the city you read about the way heteromorphs were treated in rural areas so seeing it first hand through a nightmare of his. Made you hurt. People who thought they were better than others hurt innocent people, it made you angry. But as he lays in your lap sleeping after a long day of hero work you keep your tears at bay.

“Why is this coming to mind now?” You mumble.

Shoji stirs in his sleep, and you bring your hand to his hair, rubbing his head much like how he did for you when you apologized for your inability to control your own quirk. His scars weren’t what made him, and you were glad at least he could come to terms with it. But the people who cared for him— like you. Will probably always feel pain. Leaning down, you kiss him and he chuckles.

“Are you crying again?”

You sniffle trying to make your voice normal. “No.”

“It’s in the past, things are slow to go but there’s been change since we were in school.” Shoji yawns a bit before sitting up. “Aside from thinking about the past, what are you thinking?”

“How beautiful you are,” you hum, stretching up a bit you cradle his face in your free hand. “Because it takes a lot to be this beautiful.”

He kisses the inside of your hand. “Only you say things like this.”

“And you know that I mean them. Just hold me back after counting to three if anyone dares say anything.” You clock your tongue.

“Hmm, I’ll give you five seconds.”

“Truly kind indeed to couple with your beauty,” you giggle, bowing your head a bit. “I am not worthy.”

But he didn’t laugh this time, instead he pulled you into his lap and just held you there. He does take your cup away from you.

“I thought you weren’t supposed to be drinking coffee after five, stardust?” He frowns at the liquid and you avert your gaze.

“It’s decaf.” You lie.

He smells the cup and puts it on the coffee table before locking you in his hold. “I believe that’s enough ‘not coffee’ for one evening.”

Leaning back on his chest and looking up at him you still smile. “While your scars come from a bad memory I hope since they’ve healed you have a million more to make the bad seem insignificant. Plus I meant it when I said you’re beautiful.”

It was his turn to hold your face in one of his hands. “I know stardust. I know.”

[1toreyouapart]

What It Cost

****THIS IS A FICTIONAL STORY BASED ON REAL PEOPLE. 18+ ONLY. I DO NOT OWN THE RIGHTS TO THE PEOPLE OR MUSIC MENTIONED IN THIS STORY OUTSIDE OF LILITH AND SADIE AND MAYBE A COUPLE OTHERS. DO NOT READ IF YOU’RE NOT UP FOR FANFIC INVOLVING REAL PEOPLE***

Terrible summary: Five years since she last spoke to him. Since she last saw him. Now his face and his voice is everywhere. She can't escape him.

Five years ago Noah destroyed her and the life they had built. Now he’s back and seeking to make amends. As much as she wants to say that it's too little too late, is it?

CW/TW: Angst, mention of addiction, cheating. Mention of character death. Language. Smut (later on). PinV, unprotected PinV (wrap it before you tap it, friends), oral (f&m receiving). Cyberbullying. All smutty warnings happen later on, so I’ll update TW/CW warning labels as those parts are written and posted. If I forget anything, please let me know so I can fix it! Thank you!

This part deals lightly with cyberbullying. Read at your own risk.

Part 3-Lilith

Every time her phone went off she cringed. Of course she was spotted in the same vicinity as Noah last night. And of course the fan base was going crazy over it. So, of course, everyone and their mothers were sending her the tweets and the Instagram and TikTok posts about it. Half the fan base was excited, half was yelling at the minority that were posting those pictures everywhere and invading his private life. And of course the even smaller minority were acting like he was fucking her and "how dare he?!" The closest they had been to each other all night was around the fire. It was enough to make her want to turn her phone off or go off of social media altogether.

"Turn your phone off, girl. Leave the bitches to me."

Sadie handed her a shot glass, filled to the brim with whiskey. Lilith chuckled, tossing it back, welcoming the burn of the alcohol as it slid down her throat, warming her from the inside.

"It's more annoying than anything. They're not really bothering me." Lilith set the shot glass down in front of Sadie, indicating she wanted another shot. "It wasn't as bad as I thought it would be seeing him last night."

Well, that was partially a lie. She had spent the first couple hours numb, steering clear of him at every opportunity. And he gave her a wide birth whenever able. It helped knowing he had been just as anxious as she was when she got there. She could see it in the way his leg bounced the second she walked through the door. In the way his eyes locked onto hers, then darted away, looking anywhere and everywhere but at her. But as the evening wore on, and everyone swapped stories, she couldn't help but tag Noah in for one of her favorites of Danny.

"I mean, you're not lying in bed pretending you're dead, so I assumed it couldn't have been that bad," Sadie teased.

"He's sober now. Asked Jolly about it last night when we were all drinking and he stuck to water."

Sadie hesitated, handing her the shot glass back. "I know. I should've told you. It's just, he never reached out when Jolly said he was working on making amends with people, and I really didn't want you hurt that he never reached out to you."

Lilith nodded. Sadie was right not to tell her. Still didn't change the fact that he's apparently been sober for three years and hadn't deemed her worthy enough of at least an attempt to make amends. Maybe it was her fault he had cheated after all. Tears blurred her vision as she tossed the second shot back. What had she done to drive him to that?

"Nope. Don't go there, girl. That's his issue, not yours. You're exactly everything good in this world and you were always too good for him. He fucked up. Not you." Sadie saw right through her.

Lilith nodded, though she couldn't help but feel like Sadie was wrong. Sadie was supposed to say this stuff. She was her best friend. They were practically like sisters. Her phone rang, interrupting her thoughts. Looking down she froze at the name on the screen. At the old picture of him, lighting up her phone as it rang. She really should have blocked his number all those years ago. Heart in her throat she picked it up, answering.

"What, Noah?"

"Can we talk?" He asked after a short pause, his voice quiet, though she could hear the anxiety laced in his voice.

"What about?" Her eyes met Sadie's green ones, her heart feeling like it was going to beat out of her chest.

"I-Can we talk in person? I shouldn't do this over the phone."

Sadie nodded her head at her, silently telling her to say yes. Like Sadie knew something she didn't. The bitch probably actually did, come to think of it.

"When?"

The doorbell rang, making her jump.

"How about now?"

Lilith looked at Sadie, wide eyed. He was here? Did Sadie know? What the actual fuck? Why didn't he just knock in the first place? Sadie shrugged, heading for the door. Lilith hung up the phone, snatching the bottle of whiskey and drinking straight from the bottle. What the actual fuck was going on in her life right now? Fucking Noah. She shouldn't have gone last night. It had to be karma from being around him again.

"The fuck do you want?" Sadie's stern voice filtered through into the kitchen. She couldn't help the smirk at the sound of Sadie acting like she didn't know he had called.

"I should've done this three years ago, Sadie. Lilly-" he paused. "Lilly deserves this more than fucking anybody."

There was a long pause in which she could imagine the look Sadie was giving him right now. All full of sass and eye rolls. Arms likely folded across her chest. Giggling to herself she took another swig from the bottle before slamming it down on the counter.

Moments later Noah walked in, hood pulled up over his head, hands in the pocket of his hoodie. Sadie was hot on his heels, arms still across her chest as she had assumed.

"I support this talk. But I'll be right here in the living room. I so much as hear you being a cunt, Noah, and I'm kicking your ass like I should have five fucking years ago."

Noah chuckled, mumbling his acknowledgment, his dark eyes never leaving Lilith's. Sadie walked away, hollering that she was only twenty feet away if she was needed. Lilith stood there, refusing to show any hint of vulnerability. Instead she reached for the bottle again, noticing the way he tracked her movements, the way he eyed the bottle, likely gauging how much she had already drank.

The silence between them stretched on as she took another swig from the bottle, letting the liquor fill her with the confidence she needed for whatever was about to be thrown her way. Satisfied she leveled her stare at him, ignoring the way her stomach seemed to flip at the sight of him.

"I-Lilly." He paused, glancing around the room. "Lilly, I'm sorry."

Lilith watched him, a million thoughts racing through her head. Why was he there? What was he actually saying sorry for? Groaning she turned away from him, dropping into the stool next to her. Her phone continued to ping with messages about last night being sent to her. It was all too much. It was just too fucking much.

"You sorry for this?" She grumbled, shoving her phone towards him.

Lilith watched as he picked up her phone, seeing all the notifications and everything that had been sent to her. Good and bad, all because they were in the same place just the night before. She watched as his stupidly perfect face fell, seeing everything she had seen. Then watched as his face morphed into rage at a new notification coming in. Part of her was glad it was someone else seeing it and not her at that moment.

She watched with bated breath as he carefully set her phone down, picked up his own, and dialed a number. All he did was hold up a finger, then turn his back to her.

"Matt? Handle this. I don't know what the fuck is happening, but handle this. They can say what they want about me, but Lilly is fucking off limits."

Her heart sank. It must have been bad. Carefully, as though he could turn on her at any moment, she stepped forward, picking up her phone.

"I see why he cheated on her. Gutter slut that she is."

Lilith slammed her phone down, startling Noah. He whipped around, quickly hanging up the phone. One glance between her and her phone told him everything, she was sure of it. She couldn't help the fresh tears. The way her chest seized. How she stepped back from him and her phone. In that moment, that awful notification confirmed everything she already knew to be true. She was the reason he did what he did.

Tags: @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @haylaansmi

[chaotic-jjk-fiction]

Networking

Shiu Kong x Fem Reader

TW: fancy party, yakuza, nicknames (sweetheart, doll, and princess), size kink if you squint, Shiu call reader a bimbo, sexually suggestive. MDNI. Not beta read. 

A/N: This wasn’t my originally planned Shiu fic, lol, but since the other one was taking so long and I felt bad, I hope you’ll enjoy this one for now!

Upon meeting a cute scientist at a party, Shiu feels as though his night might not be so boring after all. 

Word count: 1.3k

Shiu hated parties like this. Extravagant mixers of Japan’s most influential upper echelon and people like himself trying to make connections. The lights were blinding as he surveyed the room from the balcony just above the main dance floor. It was a sea of sparkling dresses and dark suits. The band played classical melodies that, while skilled, were far from what Shiu enjoyed listening to. He tried to ground himself, ‘Remember, you’re here to meet potential clients.’ He reached into the inner pocket of his suit jacket feeling the little stack of business cards he always brought to events. ‘It’s routine at this point’ Shiu reminds himself, taking a deep breath in, and forcing himself to step into the crowd of people surrounding him.

Over the years he had gotten pretty good at identifying who was his likely clientele at parties like this where the legal and illegal businesses melted together. His first target was a balding man in his late fifties with a much younger woman, presumably an escort, clinging to his arm. He recognized this man as Mr. Moto, an executive of a slightly lower yakuza family in charge of arms smuggling. Casually making his way over, he introduced himself, “Hello Mr. Moto. My name is Kong Shiu. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”  The man grinned slightly, clearly pleased to have been recognized. “What is it that you do Mr. Kong?” Mr. Moto inquired, getting straight to the point. Shiu did not mind though, he appreciated not drawing out these kinds of interactions. “I’m a mediator of sorts. If you have a job that’s maybe a little too messy to do yourself, I find someone suited for it and ensure that it all goes smoothly.” Mr. Moto hummed in approval. “Here’s my card.” Shiu reached into his jacket pocket and handed one of the little rectangles over. “My contact information is on there.” Just like that, the conversation was over and the two men parted ways. On to the next.

He talked to person after person until he lost count. Each exchange lasted less than ten minutes, but they were undeniably draining. Trying to entertain clients had always been stressful for him, and networking was the same. The lights, loud music, and claustrophobic atmosphere were not helping. ‘God, I need a smoke.’ Desperate to clear his head a little, Shiu started down the grand staircase hoping to be able to slip outside and light up a cigarette before having to return and continue schmoozing.

As he made it to the edge of the dance floor, the final obstacle between him and his nicotine fix, someone caught his eye.  

You were turned in such a way that the mediator could only see half of your face while you engaged in conversation with someone he didn't recognize. He couldn't explain why he felt drawn to you, maybe it was the way your dress hugged your body or the aura you seemed to radiate but his plan to take a smoke break was quickly abandoned as he slipped through the elegantly dressed crowd.

He stayed back a bit so that he was within earshot of your discussion yet not obviously eavesdropping. You hadn't seemed like an escort, and based on your lack of a wedding ring, you probably weren't a trophy wife. Shiu’s intuition proved itself to be correct as he tuned into the exchange, focusing on your sweet voice. “So, in summary, our lab is using CRISPR to study genes implicated in neurodevelopmental disorders. If you would like to reach out to my PI with any more questions about what we are doing or how to donate, here’s his contact information.” He watched as you handed the man a card, shook his hand, and said goodbye. Once the stranger was out of sight you closed your eyes and let out a little sigh, your shoulders visibly relaxing. He decided to seize this opportunity to approach you, “Need a break, sweetheart?” Shiu was now standing in front of you, a playful smirk on his face. Your face was even more beautiful up close. “My name is Kong Shiu, who might you be?” You were quiet for a minute, looking up at him he could see the flicker of surprise in your eyes before you returned his smile. “Mr. Kong-” “Just call me Shiu.” “Well, Shiu, you can call me (y/n).” “forgive me if I'm jumping to conclusions, but it seems like you could use a break from the mingling.” He studied your face, trying to read your reaction to his words. To his relief, your features softened. “You have no idea.” Shiu was honestly a little surprised at how well this was going. Using the confidence he had gained thus far, he extended his hand out to you and asked “Would you care to dance?” Now it was his turn to be surprised as you confidently placed your hand in his much larger one. “Lead the way.”

And that he did. Carefully guiding you through the masses until you two were on the dance floor slightly removed from the other dancing couples. When he was satisfied with the location, he pulled you closer to his chest and took your other hand, once again admiring how small it was compared to his. You two began swaying just as everyone else appeared to be doing.

“So, Shiu” your voice trailed off for a moment. He couldn't help but notice that you seemed nervous now, which was funny compared to how boldly you had accepted his offer earlier. Maybe it was the close proximity. Your eyes finally met him and you continued, “What business do you have here with the wealthy elites?” He chuckled softly, taking note of the way your muscles tensed in reaction to feeling the reverberations in his chest against your body. “I suppose I'm a mediator. I help facilitate certain exchanges and such.” You nodded your head in understanding. “What about you, Doll?” the tips of your ears were dusted a soft pink upon hearing the nickname. “I'm a research scientist.”

“Then shouldn't you be in the lab? I mean, what's a smart girl like you doing at a party like this?” The blush had now spread to your cheeks and you looked flustered at his words. ‘I wonder how cute her reaction would be if I was praising her for taking my cock?’ he mentally cursed himself, this was not the time to be thinking about that. “Well, my PI believes that it is easier to attract funding from these older men,” you used your head to gesture around the room, “if it's a younger woman who talks to them. Not my favorite business model, but I do need that money. Science is expensive.” You frowned as you said the last part.

“Want me to help take your mind off of it?” Shiu inquired, genuinely wondering if he could ease your mind. Seeing you frown made his heart ache a little. Thankfully his offer seemed to perk you up and a mischievous glimmer appeared in your eyes as you pressed your body flush onto his. He could feel your tits through his dress shirt. So this is how you wanted to behave? Well, two could play that game. His arms slid down your waist, trapping you against his hips and making you aware of the growing bulge in his slacks. Your face was once again bright pink as you registered Shiu’s clothed erection. Your brain was frozen and unable to speak. All you could do was look up at him, eyes wide. “Want me to make you my little bimbo for tonight, princess?” His voice was deep and seductive. You nodded your head fervently, pulling away from him and grabbing his hand. He couldn't help but chuckle at your empty-headed neediness. As you led him away into one of the bathrooms, he thought to himself, ‘Maybe this party wouldn’t be so bad.’

[creative-heart]

"In the embrace of dawn"|| Enzo Vogrincic x fem! Reader

A/N: Hi my lovelies! So this is a second part to "In the heat of the night" which you can read Here inspired from a message by my lovely @cyliarys-starlight who said I could not end it that way, so here we go.

TW: Brief description of domestic violence, mention of alcohol consumption, a bit of sex talk.

Please if you or someone you know is victim of domestic violence, reach out to the authorities.

Word Count: 2.3 k

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Enzo woke up slightly when he felt the body heat lacking from him and stretched trying to get his senses back awake as he looked around the hotel room, thinking maybe she was in the bathroom, or even had stepped out to get something to eat; so he frowned in confusion when he saw the note laying  on the bedside table as he read through it a couple times; still trying to make sense of it “This was good, far too good for our own benefit, but it was just in the heat of the night, you’re better off without me, believe me, I know it. Take care, have a great life, xoxo Y/N (your blue diamond)”- what could she have meant with him being better off without her, Enzo couldn’t wrap his head around it, of course, they had known eachother for just a hot minute, he couldn’t say he was in love, and he knew Y/N was guarded and hiding something  he couldn’t quite pinpoint, but he did know something, and that was that for once, when the tall guy was with her, he felt normal again, he felt warm, he felt like someone cared about Enzo, not actor Enzo.

He tossed and turned for a while on the bed before grabbing his phone to check the time, 6 am; he checked his schedule, he had just a few scenes to shoot today, he would go over to talk to Y/N right after, he didn’t care, he didn’t agree with the brunette on what she had said on her stupid note. He could take whatever she had to throw his way. He got out of bed and made his way to the bathroom reluctantly, not really wanting to wash away the night before, or her intoxicating scent from him, but knowing he needed to get ready for work. Once he was ready he made his way downstairs and to the cafe across the street to get some fuel in him before heading to the studio. The memories and images of last night still replaying on his brain in a merciless loop, the way Y/N’s lips tasted; how soft her warm skin felt underneath his; the way her breath hitched in the back of her throat when he kissed that specific spot on her neck or her inner thigh; he swore he could listen to the small woman breath out his name a million times and would never get tired of it.

Sure enough, three stupid scenes took up most of his day, his head already at the Velvet Lounge, or at the bar they had gone afterwards, even worse, his mind kept going back to his hotel room and he couldn’t think straight, he could still taste Y/N on his tongue, and he was more determined than ever. When Enzo could finally get rid of work, he made his way to the club, making sure to stop by a flower shop on the way, he had seen the tattoo of what seemed a Jasmin flower on Y/N’s lower back at some point and he got a small bouquet. He got off the Uber a block or so away and made his way to the alley, his hands shaking softly and his breath a little heavier than he would have thought it would be, he fixed his hair and clothes before knocking on the side door. He really thought he hadn’t done anything wrong  to make her leave and that she  wouldn’t have spoke to her friends about him in a bad way; his mind was spiraling so he was a little surprised when a slightly older redhead woman opened the door. “Yes? How can I help you handsome?” Cady eyed the man standing in front of her up and down, and it slowly dawned on her, this was the guy she had seen Y/N talking to a few times.

“Is urm…Y/N…Blue Diamond in? I need to talk to her, would you please tell her Enzo is here?” he smiled softly, bouquet in hand. Cady gave him another full look before humming softly and disappearing back into the building. “Y/N Honey!” she called out “There’s quite a hunk of a young man standing outside the door saying he wants to talk to you…Enzo he said his name was”. Y/N’s head snapped up from her journal so fast she got dizzy, the color completely drained from her face “oh…not welcomed? I can go back out and tell him to get lost” Cady pointed back over her shoulder, always protective of the younger woman.

Y/N sighed getting up and shook her head “no, thanks mama, not necessary, he’s not bad, on the contrary, he’s too good” she took a quick look at herself in the mirror, her gray sweats and oversized hoody covering her body-she had asked for the day off today, alleging she didn’t feel all that good-, she pulled her arms around her and walked out to meet him taking a deep breath before opening the door. Y/N was determined to just usher him away as soon as she opened the door; but the sight of the tall, handsome, caring guy standing outside clearly nervous as hell, with a bouquet of jasmins in hand and a worried expression on his face made her halt to a stop. “Enzo….didn’t expect to see you here, not after I left at 4 am and left that note” she looked down at her own feet when he looked her way. Enzo cleared his throat and moved a bit closer making her look up at him again.

“First, these are for you” he said handing the bouquet over “I saw a jasmin tattoo on your back and I thought I might be on the right track” he rambled on as she took the flowers -a small tight smile as a reply- “I must admit, I was a bit surprised when I woke up to that note, please, please tell me it’s not something I did…I couldn’t forgive myself if I wronged you in any way” he kept looking at her, big puppy eyes, concern plastered on his look as he fidgeted with the ring on his finger “I just…I wanted to come over and tell you, I don’t know what you’re holding back, I have no idea what you’ve been through, and I know we’ve only known each other for a bit, I’m not pretending like I know all about you, nor demanding to… I would never force you to share something you’re not comfortable with..” Y/N looked up at him, her eyes sparkly, small smile pulling at the edges of her lips as he rambled on, he was quite endearing and adorable-added to how hot he is and how good he fucked me last night, I could get used to the rambling- she thought but let him continue “I just want you to know, that you’re more than enough, and there’s no way something like what we shared last night, isn’t the best thing ever….I would love to, if you let me, get to know every nook and crany of you, inside and out, know your brain, know your heart, and take the time to mend it back together, protect you from whatever…whomever you might be escaping and protecting yourself from”. As he said that she pulled him in by his coat standing on her tiptoes she kissed him softly, a new sensation running in that kiss, it wasn’t the need and want that it had the night before, it was calm, it was safe. 

Enzo was a bit surprised to be cut short from his well rehearsed speech by Y/N, not like he would complain about feeling her lips on his; hands naturally and easily falling to her waist pulling her in gently to him, needing to shield her from the outside world in every possible way. When they felt like they needed to breath before they passed out, they broke the kiss and Enzo rested his forehead against hers. “You are adorable, persistent, but adorable” she whispered. “You’re also right, there’s a lot about me you don’t know, a lot that I don’t know if and when I will be ready to let out…but as much as I wanted to pretend that I was okay leaving you behind, it tugged at every fiber of my being, this somehow in some crazy way, feels natural, feels good, and I like it”. A slow grin spread across the taller’s face as he placed another kiss on her lips.

“This might be a lot to ask for, and please don’t think it is because I don’t like you being here, but I would love to spend every second with you… getting to know you, would you please come stay with me?” she bit her lip and looked down shortly thinking about what he was asking of her, she closed her eyes and in the first act of trust she had shown in god knows how long, she nodded. “Please give me a few minutes go grab a bag of my things?” she looked up at him, she still felt terrified, and out of sorts in ways, but something about his presence, his warmth, made the weight on her shoulders get easier to bear; Enzo placed a chaste kiss on her lips and nodded. As Y/N walked into the building, she found Cady, Astrid, Michelle and even Andrew piled up on the other side eavesdropping and looked at them with a quizzical look. “Excuse you?” she said.

Astrid smiled and with her thick russian accent said “Whoever your prince in shining armor is, can’t he take me with him as well?” Y/N laughed and nudged her playfully going to pack a small bag. “You know that  whenever you want to, you have a place and a job here sweetie” Andrew said and she looked back at them “it’s not like I’m leaving for good, I’ll just go for a few days and be back, I still need to work” she said her goodbyes and walked back out the door where Enzo awaited, he wrapped his arm around her waist protectively and walked back to the hotel.

~~~

A month or so had gone by, and the familiarity between them made Y/N feel safer than ever, like she could tackle whatever came her way, she also knew that filming was almost over for him, and soon he would leave the city. As she got some snacks for them, while Enzo waited on the couch she took a deep breath, she finally thought she could tell him her story. Deep in thought she made her way to the couch sitting down. Enzo looked up from his phone “what’s troubling you babe?” he said in that soft mellowy voice of concern that Y/N had gotten to know quite well in this time together; she nodded softly sitting down.

“Remember how you told me you would never force me to share my story?” she said barely above a whisper, Enzo put his phone down giving Y/N his undivided attention now- everything else could wait, the world could wait- and nodded; “well….I think that….if this is to be anything more than a passing fling to end when you leave New York in 2 more weeks…you deserve to know” he frowned at all the beating around the bush, but he let her, whatever she was getting ready to say had to be really important and he laid his hand on her knee in a protective way to encourage her. The petite woman took a deep breath and fixed her eyes on a loose string on her cardigan and started talking. “When we first met, I had just started working at the Velvet Lounge….I got there, because I got to New York with nowhere to go, anyone to turn to, I am….I’m originally from a small town in the state of Missouri, called Rocheport, and… I had just left, nothing on my back but the clothes I was wearing and a backpack, I urm…I’m married…my husband…his name is Luke, and one night, he…he got drunk, as he usually did but that night he got mad, and he…he…” she bit her lower lip, feeling some tears running down her face she quickly wiped at before going on “he laid a hand on me, so as soon as he passed out from the booze, I left, enough money for the bus ticket out of there on the first bus I found and I ended up here, so I… I just felt like I couldn’t trust…anyone really” she tentatively looked up from her lap to find an Enzo she had never seen before, jaw tight with tension, dark eyes, but not the dark she was used to see when they had sex, no, this was different, he hadn’t realized his hands were in fists. “please don’t look at me differently”she whispered.

He looked at her his gaze softening when he heard her say that “oh baby, I could never” he whispered bringing her close to his chest. “I just wish I could have protected you from that son of a bitch, I want to protect you every day of my life, as long as we’re together, nothing’s ever gonna harm you again, and that bastard better pray I don’t ever cross paths with him because I will not care, I will kill him; I swear I will kill him.” Y/N held onto him face buried in his chest feeling it raise and fall rapidly from his breath “Thank you for letting me into your world” he whispered in her ear “I’ll make it my life’s work to make yours better if you let me” she looked up at him, eyes glossy with tears and he leaned down cupping her cheeks as he kissed her deeply, in a way that let her know that no harm could ever get to her ever again, not as long as he was beside her, not as long as they were together.

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@cyliarys-starlight @madame-fear @luceracastro @candycanes19 @lastflowrr @koiibiito @espinasrubi @castawaycherry

[hahahahahangst]

Nothing else matters (Be The Young 19)

GIANT TW which will be valid for each episode for suicidal thoughts, self-h*rm, violence, cursing, relatives dying, mentions of s*x, s*xual assault

All chapter titles are song titles, some of them translated from Italian songs. We start from the first season and make out way through the series. I will break canon (mostly from the S2 finale) but will try to get back into it for the sake of ✨ lore ✨ .

Summary: Emily's life used to be normal. Until one day, her family died, leaving behind just one letter.

"After reading this whole letter, call John Winchester. [...] He’s your real father."

MASTERLIST

Nothing else matters

Never opened myself this way Life is ours, we live it our way All these words, I don't just say And nothing else matters

“Dean, I can’t.” Cried Emily. “I can’t see him like that.” Dean exhaled, quickly gazing behind him to make sure Sam was still passed out. 

“Emily, he’s going to be just fine. It’s just holy water. He won’t even feel it.” 

“You don’t know that, okay? You’ve seen the marks it leaves. It’s like acid.” 

“So what, we let the demon in there?” 

“What- no! I’m just saying I don’t want to look while you hurt Sam!” 

Dean glared behind him again, impatient. “You know what? Grow a pair. You can’t be a hunter and a little scared girl in distress.” He dismissed her and turned back. 

“Really? Grow a pair? You want me to act like I lost my mind? Randomly punch people, shoot my brother- what’s your problem?”

“Not like you lost your mind, like a hunter!” Dean turned back to look at her. “You’ve been in the life for years and still get stuck in this crap? You want to be a hunter? Prove it.” He handed her the bucket he had filled with holy water. “Be the though bitch you’ve been pretending to be.”  

Emily’s heart started to race. Dean wanted her to be tough? She could definitely satisfy him. Vexed, Emily grabbed the bucket from Dean’s hands and looked at Sam. His head was dangling from his shoulder and he was tied to a chair in the middle of the room. 

Maybe she could be tough. She could try. 

She took a deep breath. “So?” Asked Dean, impatient. 

“Give me a second.” 

“We don’t have a second. Just- watch and learn, okay?” He walked towards her and snatched the bucket away from her, disappointed. He immediately threw the entire content of it on Sam. With a strong sizzling sound, Sam woke up screaming. Emily cringed to the horrible mix of sounds.

“Would you look at that…“ He said, heavy breathing. “The Olsen twins, back from the dead.” 

“How about I smack that smartass right out of your mouth?” Said Dean. 

“Sam's still my meat puppet. I'll make him bite off his tongue.”

“No, you won't be in him long enough. Bobby.” 

The man, who had been standing in a corner, angrily looking at the two siblings argue, started reciting an exorcism. Dean talked over him. 

“See, whatever bitch-boy master plan you demons are cooking up? You're not getting Sam. You understand me? 'Cause I'm gonna kill every one of you first.” He said, bitter. Sam seemed to struggle, in pain, but then started laughing maniacally. Bobby looked up, surprised, but kept reciting.

“You really think that's what this is about? The master plan? I don't give a rat's ass about the master plan.” Said Sam, with a smug expression, suddenly not in pain anymore. 

“Oops. Doesn't seem to be working. See, I learned a few new tricks.” He continued. Then, he started reciting something in Latin of his own. Emily looked at Bobby. 

“What is that?” She asked, not recognizing the spell. The man didn’t have the time to answer her, because the room started shaking. Feeling something falling on her, Emily looked up and saw the demon’s trap Bobby had set up, breaking with the ceiling. After a couple of seconds of chaos, the room went silent.

“There, that’s better.” Said Sam, evil. With a nod, Dean and Bobby flew against the walls of the room. Sam looked up, confused, and saw Emily still standing. She raised a hand at her. Emily felt a force trying to push her away, but was able to resist it. It felt the same way it would have felt if it was a kid pushing her. Sam looked even more confused, which suggested Emily that maybe something wasn’t going according to plan. 

“Trouble in paradise, fella?” She asked, trying to think of something she could do. Dean and Bobby were on the floor, passed out, and she was on her own. 

“What’s going on?!” Asked Sam, angry. “You’re not supposed to be this strong!” The demon’s words caught Emily’s attention. Sam walked towards her, visibly upset. “That’s okay-” He said, punching her. “We can settle this the old way.” Sam grabbed Emily from her hair, making her scream in pain. As much as she tried to set herself free, she couldn’t. Sam was stronger than her, so possessed Sam could only be extremely stronger than her. “Has anybody told you you’re a real bitch?” Said the demon, punching Emily’s already broken nose. “Sending me back to hell like that- real slut move.” The third punch almost made Emily lost her senses, but she finally recognized who was inside Sam. It was Meg. Emily looked around, knowing full well she had to do something. “By the way, I saw your dad down there.” Continued the demon. “He doesn’t say hi.” Emily scoffed, angry. “And Sam? Oh, if he could talk about you…“ Meg held Emily higher and closer to her, pulling her up from her hair and sustaining the rest of her weight by holding her neck. As she spoke, Emily felt angrier and angrier. “He knows full well that you’re gonna be the one that goes dark side first.” She hissed. Emily felt a sudden wind filling the room, getting stronger as she got angrier. “He can’t wait to shoot you in the face and get it over with.” Suddenly, a book, coming out of nowhere, hit Sam’s head, making the demon lose their concentration and take a step back. Emily knew she had to make her move. If she could move the door, she could for sure move bodies as well. But was it going to be harder? What if she failed? All her doubts were wiped when she saw Sam stand back up and lead towards her. She just had to think it, and his body flew towards the wall, slamming against it violently. A shiver went down her spine as she realized Sam had passed out again. Pinned there, his sleeve had moved up, exposing a mark on his forearm. Emily recognized it from one of Bobby’s books as a binding lock, something that kept the demon inside of Sam’s body despite the exorcism. She knew exactly what to do. She approached his body carefully, scared he might wake up all of a sudden. 

“Sam, if you can hear me, I’m very sorry.” She said, as she extracted a knife from her back pocket and used it cut through the mark. With the mark broken, Sam’s eyes shot open, black as the night, and then he screamed, vomiting a huge amount of black smoke. 

With the demon gone, Emily fell to the ground, exhausted. She leaned on a pile of books which has crashed down during the fight, and tried to calm herself down. Everything around her was spinning, her body slowly going numb, her breath becoming shorter and shorter and panic making way into all her limbs. She opened her eyes and saw Sam’s bleeding arm. 

She had to do something. 

She had to stop the bleeding, but she couldn’t, her legs won’t move, her hands won’t be steady enough. 

“Emily!” Called Dean’s voice, barely overcoming Emily’s thoughts. A lightbulb exploded over her, making both Emily and Dean flinch. Emily looked at Dean helping Sam up. He took a step, but almost fell again, holding his arm, in pain. Emily heard the sound of a window breaking behind her. “Emily!” Called Dean again, alarmingly looking at her while he wrapped Sam’s arm in a piece of fabric. “Stop!” That was when she realized, the lightbulb, the window, it was all her. With a dull thud, a whole stack of books fell over. Emily looked at Dean, short of breath, and pleaded for help. 

Probably for the first time since they had met each other, Dean seemed to understand exactly what was going on with her. She couldn’t stop, she couldn’t control anything, not even her thoughts.

What was she becoming?

Why was it happening? 

Why did she seem to have the same powers as demons? 

Was she one of them? 

How long before Dean was going to kill her? 

Was she turning into something evil? 

Was she evil?   

“Emily!” Dean’s voice finally rose over everything else. Emily looked at him and regained consciousness of her surroundings long enough to realize she was lying on the floor, uncontrollably crying and trying to scratch the floor beneath her to release the tension that was building in her body. Dean towered over her, worried. “Look at me!” She said, stopping her from scratching the floor any longer. “It’s over, it’s okay.” The tension kept building up and with it, the urge to get rid of it. She closed her eyes and started banging her head on the floor. Dean quickly let go of her arm. “Emily- STOP!” He said pushing her head on the floor to stop Emily from hurting herself. “It’s over. You’re safe now.”

[sweetlikehoneystingslikeabee]

Hi, I love your writing, could I request fluff hcs for Riddler, Penguin, Scarecrow, and Two Face with an S/O who loves stroking their hair?

"Hair Stroking" Riddler, Penguin, Scarecrow, Two-Face x Reader

Absolutely, love! Let's see what we can cook up for you today. I relate to this on either side, I love having my hair stroked by someone I trust and I like doing it.

TW: None

Riddler

Oh. Oh. The very first time you do it, he's melting. Full on in his seat, sinking into whatever chair he's doing. If he was speaking, it slowly fades out to a comfortable hum. A love-struck smile on his face.

"And to what do I owe the pleasure?" He's almost singing your praises. It's been stated on this blog before, but Edward is affection and touch starved. Something small and intimate like that would be such an emotional reward for him. Kissing whatever parts of you he can reach depending on position, the mellowed out sigh on contact.

He's almost catlike in the way he'll enter a room on a bad day and insist on laying with his head in your lap or even sitting on the floor in front of you (despite his bad knee). Then practically grabbing your hand to put in his hair. Stroke now, please.

Penguin

Insists he doesn't need all that. At first he makes the assumption that you're doing it for him rather than you. Wanting to show him you don't mind touching him, past self esteem issues, etc etc. He'll feel... rather embarrassed finding out that you just like to do that. What narcissism- Who is he, Nygma?

Once he knows it's something you genuinely enjoy, he'll give you plenty of opportunities in private to do that. Perhaps even during meetings as a power-play. You in a slinky outfit, one arm over his shoulder and the other playing with the back of his hair as he talks down to some bit player in the city.

One way he really likes it is if the two of you are in the tub- He'll move over to sit in front of you, careful to not put his full weight on you- eyes closing as you massage in shampoo with the hair stroking. Makes him feel like royalty.

Scarecrow

Tells himself at first he allows you to do it because you obviously like it. Man can be prickly, whether he intends to be or not. The first time he may have even jumped a little at the contact. Not out of fear, no, he insists to himself. A majority of his life this sort of affection has been missing. It's strange to get used to now.

It's when he leans against you while the two of you are on the couch and you just sort of... absentmindedly do it. It's so soft and genuine he can't help but enjoy it. He doesn't notice he's putting his dead weight on you unless you say something. Then he's quickly sitting up as if he's forgotten himself.

It'll take time for him to fully relax into the hair-stroking. He ends up really enjoying it when he's reading and you're either watching something or reading over his shoulder. The two of you laying together. Every once in a while he'll gaze up for a kiss.

Two-Face

Harv will say it's goofy and he doesn't think it's necessary. If you want to, sure, but don't expect him to fawn over like some people. This is before Harvey realizes how much he likes it and gets enjoyment from it. Winding down after a rough day of running things in Gotham and here you both are, a glass of wine in his hand and your hands in his hair. It's pampering that he deserves.

Once Harv has seen this a couple times, he feels irritated. No, he doesn't care, if Harvey likes it and he doesn't that's fine- Yet he pushes himself to the front of speaking while you're doing it to Harvey at some point. He growls low out of the scarred side of his face. Don't say it. Don't say a fucking word about him being jealous. Just... keep doing what you're doing and kiss him already.

Between the two of them, Harvey still enjoys it much more it's true. It's very affectionate and puts him in a fantastic headspace. Fuzzy and warm. Harv wants it when he's feeling more vulnerable and needs a bit of reassurance. There are times when the two of them sit "side by side" within their mind and bask in the love. Watching Columbo reruns or Matlock.

[hischierswhore]

i want you too

pairing: Mason Mount x Reader

TW: None

A/N: Part 2! I hope y'all like it

read part 1 here

It had been a few days since your abrupt encounter with Mason at the coffee shop. You spent the past few days truly considering whether or not to reignite what you & him had, making a mental pros and cons list to help you decide.

The list was quite useless, as the pros outweighed the cons. The only bad thing that could come out of this would be getting your heart broken again, but that was a risk you were willing to take for Mason.

Later on in the day, you messaged Mason asking him to meet you at that same coffee shop, to which he immediately agreed.

*At the coffee shop*

Upon entering the small building, you immediately spotted Mason's million dollar smile from across the room. You made your way over to his table, him immediately jumping up from his seat to pull yours out like the gentleman he was.

Awkward silence fell upon your table, neither of you knowing how to start the conversation.

"So, what's this about?" Mason inquired, deciding to break the silence.

"I thought about our last conversation" His eyes immediately lit up at your words.

"As much as I've tried to move on with my life, my heart always seems to come back to you. I've been in love with you, Mason, and I don't think I'll ever stop. You have me in a chokehold, and it's impossible for me to ever stop loving you" Mason's smile only grew as you continued talking.

"So does this mean you'll take me back?" He reached out and held your hand, his thumb slowly caressing the back of your hand.

"Yes, Mase. I've been waiting for this since we went on a 'break'." You blushed at the physical contact.

"You know this could go horribly wrong, but I need you in my life, Mase. Please don't fuck it up"

"I promise I won't, my love. I was an idiot the first time around, and I don't plan on losing you again" You both smiled at each other for a few moments before ultimately deciding to leave.

You both walked down the sidewalk hand in hand as your head rested on his shoulder, the pair of you beyond ecstatic to have the other back in your lives, and this time it was for good.

extremely short, but i couldn't think of what else to write. more of mason & christian to come !

also feel free to send requests🫶🏼

[maccreadysbaby]

A Hundred Ways to Become a Wayne

batfamily + oc insert

tw: anxiety? again?

wanna read more? here’s the table of contents!

want to read the first fic in the hundred days series so you understand what’s going on here? here it is!

BENTLEYS JUST HAVING A ROUGH TIME OKAY GIVE HIM A BREAK

part four

❝ USELESS, WORTHLESS, AND EVERYTHING IN BETWEEN ❞

MONDAY — AUGUST 3 — 7:12AM

BENTLEY WOKE UP WHEN A COMFORTABLY WARM HAND LANDED ON HIS FOREHEAD AND STAYED THERE FOR A FEW MOMENTS. He let out a soft, pleased hum in his half asleep state, shifting around beneath Bruce’s soft blankets.

“How are you feeling, bud?” Bruce’s voice came. Bentley felt his hand travel up and over his head, pushing his hair out of his eyes like he had the night before.

Bentley peeled his eyes open and glanced around the dimly lit room. The blackout curtains were pulled almost completely shut, blocking the blinding sun from reaching inside. The bathroom light was on, but the door was only slightly ajar, and Bruce was dressed in his typical nice suit get-up, perched on the edge of the mattress next to him. He retracted his hand when Bentley opened his eyes.

Bentley yawned and pushed himself upright, blinking in an attempt to wake himself up. How was he feeling? Right now, tired, and also kind of buzzy. It took him a moment to remember why, but then the previous night’s events came flooding back, and he winced from embarrassment. But at least his stomach didn’t hurt anymore.

“Good, I think,” He muttered, rubbing his eyes with his fists. Good despite the anxiety that he was really about to go to school was starting to set back in.

“I’m glad. I let you sleep in as long as I could, but you should probably start getting ready for school soon,” He said gently, with a soft smile tugging at the corners of his mouth just like it had been the night before. “Or you can go back to sleep if you really don’t want to go.”

Going back to sleep did sound nice. The clock on Bruce’s bedside table read 7:12am, which was a little earlier than Bentley was used to getting up. But he needed to go to school. He wanted to go to school. Plus, chickening out the morning of the first day would make him look even more pitiful than seeking Bruce out for a hug and reassurances the night before.

He took a deep breath and blew it out. “I want to go.”

Bruce smiled. “Alright. If you change your mind, just let me know.”

Bentley nodded and pulled the covers off. 

“We usually leave around eight, so that gives you a little less than an hour. Make sure you tell someone if you need something or start feeling bad again, okay?”

Bentley nodded, sliding off of Bruce’s bed onto the manicured rug. He hadn’t even noticed it last night when he was neck deep in his own panic.

He spoke to Bruce for a moment more before he made his way up the stairs and back to his room. The sun in the entryway nearly blinded him, and his room wasn’t any better with all the curtains open. He passed Damian on the stairs, probably making for the dining room in his nicely pressed uniform. He said nothing.

Bentley closed his bedroom door and stared at the folded Gotham Academy uniform on his dresser for a solid thirty seconds, maybe more, before he caved and took it into the bathroom with him. 

He showered quickly, and put himself in the uniform. It really reminded him of the clothes his father used to put him in. It wasn’t the first time he’d worn the dress pants, button up, blazer, and tie combination. And while the navy-blue blazer had the Gotham Academy symbol on the shoulder, and the tie was a deep maroon to match, it still felt strange to wear clothes like that again. He’d been wearing old hand-me-downs, hoodies and t-shirts and sweats and pajamas for what seemed like years, and forcing himself into stiff dress attire felt… well. Just weird. It reminded him of his father. Maybe his growing anxiousness was adding to his weird feelings, too.

The fact that he couldn’t tie the tie was stressing him out just like it used to, as well. He remembered his father showing him how to do it a couple of times, but he could never remember. Over the years his father’s begrudged attempts to show him morphed into annoyance, and annoyance into anger, and anger into slaps and closet time, all over a tie. And he still couldn’t freaking do it.

So he abandoned that and left it on the bathroom counter, because his anxiety was acting up under his skin again. Instead he took to making his hair the least bit presentable. Steph had cut it for him over the summer, into a style similar to Tim’s (but better because it’s not so flat, she’d said.) and Dick had shown him how to make it look good in the mornings. Not that he remembered it all, exactly, but when he was done it looked pretty similar to last time Dick had done it. (Bentley usually just brushed his hair so it wasn’t sticking up and moved on — but he guessed he needed to look more presentable to meet all of the people at school.)

He tried the tie again. No matter how many times he knotted it up and undid it again, he couldn’t make it work like his father did. Surely Damian could tie his own tie. Everyone in the house could probably tie a tie and Bentley just couldn’t remember.

His father’s voice made it's first debut in his mind since the first of the year: I showed you yesterday, Bentley. What is wrong with you?

He huffed in annoyance and undid the strip of maroon fabric, idling weirdly in front of the mirror as he tried again. Over, around, through the hole and… what? Through the hole and over again? No. Maybe he was putting it through too early. He unraveled it and started over.

Are you serious, Bentley? I could tie a tie when I was four. How worthless are you?

Tying a tie was such a simple task. He wasn’t doing some kind of endless math equation, or mixing chemicals in a chemistry class. How was he going to be a good student if he couldn’t do something as simple as tie a tie? He jerked on it and unraveled it again, the buzzing inside of him growing along with the unsteadiness of his hands the longer he fiddled with the thing.

You’re asking me this again? Useless child.

His eyes started stinging just like they had that morning after his father slapped him. He tried to force it away. He was not going to cry over a tie. He wasn’t. How stupid was that? 

You can’t? You can’t do it? How old are you, three? No? 

Bentley nearly leaped out of his skin when someone knocked on his bedroom door. He swallowed down the lump in his throat and scrubbed at his eyes to make them look normal, tossing his tie on the counter. “Yeah?”

“Hey kiddo. Can I come in?”

He nearly sighed in relief when it was Dick’s voice that came through the door. Bruce and Damian hadn’t gone on patrol the night before because of school, but Bentley was sure Dick, Jason, Tim, and the others did. He probably made his way back to the Manor afterwards. Bentley would’ve already been in Bruce’s room by then, but he was glad he was there, nonetheless.

“Yeah,” He repeated. He shoved his hands in the pockets of his pants to hide that they were shaking a little. Dick swung the door open and walked inside, closing it behind him. His ocean blue eyes bounced around before they landed on Bentley in the threshold of the bathroom.

“Morning! Are you excited? Because I’m excited, and I’m not even the one going,” He muttered as he drew closer to the bathroom. He was in a hoodie and sweats, and his hair was a mess, like he’d just woken up. Bentley shrank away a little when he got close, and Dick’s expression changed in an instant, and so did his tone. “What’s wrong?”

Bentley stared down at the floor, but Dick crouched down so he couldn’t not look at him. He scanned his face with pity swirling in his eyes. “Have you been crying?”

“No,” Bentley said, a bit too quickly. Technically he really hadn’t been crying. Sure, he had been about a millisecond away from having the tears fall down his face, but they hadn’t, therefore he really didn’t cry.

Dick didn’t seem entirely convinced. He brought a hand up and rested it on Bentley’s left arm, rubbing gently with his thumb like he always did. “What’s going on, kiddo? Talk to me.”

Bentley sucked in a breath. He was not going to cry over a tie. He. Was. Not.

He tried to fight the lump that forced it's way back into his throat as the words useless, worthless, bounced around in his head. What is wrong with you? His father had yelled so many times about so many things. What was wrong with him? Why was he about to cry again? He’d been doing a good job not being an emotional wreck since Bruce got custody of him, and here he was, throwing all that progress out the window because of a tie. A tie.

“I couldn’t…” He vaguely gestured back toward where the tie was laying on the counter. His face flushed pink when he realized this was a really dumb thing to be upset about. He took in a shaky breath and tried to blink the tears away, but they ended up falling the first time he closed his eyes. “I tried, but, I… my dad, he… I don’t…”

“Hey, take it easy, kiddo. You’re okay,” Dick reassured, rubbing his arm with his whole hand now, in bigger movements. Bentley wiped his eyes on his sleeve. Dick opened his mouth to speak but Bentley continued before he could.

“I’m sorry,” He whispered, hiding his face behind his arm. “I don’t know… what’s wrong with me.”

“Nothings wrong with you,” Dick was quick to shut that down, and his tone got a little more serious. “Bruce told me about last night. Are you feeling like that again?”

Bentley shook his head, but he didn’t move his arm. “No. I just… my dad… got really mad when I couldn’t…” He trailed off. He figured that was a good enough explanation.

Dick sighed softly and stood up, gently pulling Bentley forward into a warm embrace.

“Whatever your dad did, whatever your dad said… none of that stands anymore. He was wrong,” Dick explained quietly, brushing his fingers through the hair on the back of the child’s head. (Like Bentley hadn’t been told that about five hundred times since he officially moved in. Because he had, but for some reason, he could never push his fathers words completely away.)

Bentley said nothing, but instead pressed his face farther into Dick’s hoodie in an attempt to make his eyes stop watering like they were. He felt so pathetic.

He sniffled, bringing his arms up and around Dick’s torso. “He taught me how, but I never remembered… and then he…”

Dick rubbed his back gently. “I’ve got you, kiddo. He isn’t here anymore.”

Then why did he feel like this?

“…Why do the things he said still hurt when he’s not here?” He whispered, choking on a quiet sob.

It was a serious question. His dad wasn’t there anymore, so why did he still get so scared? Why did he still feel like a failure, like all those words his father had called him? Actually, even thinking about his father made him hurt, and his father wasn’t even around to do anything.

“Oh, kiddo…” Dick muttered. He peeled Bentley off of his torso and picked him up instead, and Bentley didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around his neck and hide his face in his hoodie. “Stuff like that takes a while to heal, just like injuries. Sometimes longer.”

Bentley stayed quiet for a few beats, forcing himself to stop crying over something so stupid.

“All of us are having to unlearn things from our pasts. Most of us are still working on it,” Dick explained, rubbing his back just like he had the first night he met him. “You’re not alone, Bentley.”

He sniffled again. “I know.”

A few quiet moments passed. “I’m proud of you for going to B when you didn’t feel good last night.”

Bentley furrowed his brow. “Why?”

“Well…” Dick started, rubbing his back a bit. “You’re like Tim in the way you don’t want to be a burden. Sometimes it’s hard to go to someone else for help. And I’m just proud of you.”

Those words made something warm sprout in his chest. His father certainly never told him he was proud of him. Damian had told him he was impressed once, when he was in the hospital last year, but he was pretty out of it then. Hearing it from Dick was… you know. Different.

Part of Bentley just wanted to stay home with him. Maybe cry about his dad some more. 

“You still wanting to go to school today? I think Alfred is serving breakfast any minute,” Dick stated, as if he could read Bentley’s mind. 

He sucked in a deep breath. “I think so.”

“Alright. But first, let me get this tie situated for you,”

Dick set Bentley back down on his feet and grabbed the tie off of the bathroom counter. “Want me to show you?”

Bentley wiped the wetness off of his face with his sleeve and nodded slightly. Dick shook the tie out and then wrapped it around Bentley’s neck, tucking it beneath the collar of his shirt.

“First you cross them, big side under the small side,” He explained, focusing on the fabric between his fingers. “Then you wrap the big side around the small side.”

Bentley watched as Dick did exactly what he was narrating.

“Up and through the loop around your neck, then back down through the other little loop you made,” He explained lightly, tugging on the tie and wiggling it up to Bentley’s collar. “Ta-da!”

It looked perfect. He didn’t expect any less from Dick Grayson.

Bentley inhaled deeply and cleared his throat, trying to remove any evidence of his small bout of crying. “Can you… not tell Bruce? About this? I don’t want him to be worried about me. I really don’t feel like I did last night.”

Dick scanned him inquisitively. “If you really are okay, my lips are sealed. But if you get really anxious again you need to tell someone.”

Bentley nodded. “I will.”

Dick smiled his signature smile. “Okay. Well, if you’re ready, I can practically taste the bacon in the air.”

Bentley snickered lightly, and Dick ruffled his hair. Then he realized he messed it up and started brushing it back down with his hands, which made Bentley chuckle again.

Dick really did know how to make everything better, so effortlessly. Bentley wondered if he became good at comforting people because he was comforted a lot in the past, or because he… wasn’t comforted at all.

That was a thought for another day.

—

dedicated to @sassenashsworld 💚

—

tag list! (If you want me to remove or add you, ask in comments!)

@fleur-alise @sarcopterygiian @cademygod

[sashi-ya]

𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫, 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫, 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫. [chapter 3] 𝚔𝚞𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚔𝚒 𝚋𝚢𝚊𝚔𝚞𝚢𝚊 𝚡 𝚏! 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛[+18]

✦ adapted to x! reader from my original oc story. ✦ tw: this time a little bit more romantic, had to add their sweet beginnings so that's why is a little more longer (separated it in two parts). dom byakun. spanking. public sex. anal. oral. can be read on its own, no need to read the previous chaps, tho I recommend to do so. ✦ chapter 1 / chapter 2/ chapter 4

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟑: 𝐋𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐏𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐒𝐞𝐞 𝐒𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐢 [𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝟏]

“(Name), (Name). Wake up” a  whispery sweet voice calls you, that this time sounds absolutely annoying to your ears.

“Nghhhh… again?” you protest, turning around and reaching for one of his long black locks of hair in between your fingers.

Byakuya’s eyes soften. His delicate hand caresses your head and pulls you towards himself. “No… but the Sun is about to rise. I had an idea so that we can be alone for the rest of the weekend” he murmurs, placing his chin on top of the crown of your head.

You moan, pleased. Alone, all weekend? No work? Yes please. Opening your eyes, you take a glimpse of his beauty.  Even with tired eyes, dishevelled hair and no kenseikan Byakuya still looks like a masterpiece.

“Where are we going, Byakuya-sama?” you purr, asking him, still politely. “To the world of the living, (Name)” he murmurs, stretching his arms after to get ready for getting out of bed.

You blink; that’s interesting… you will get to wear your gigai? Oh, but honey… I’m not that sure about it.

Senkaimon opens, the white brilliance shining on your faces makes you lift your hand to cover your eyes. It is still pretty early, and the sun is barely out when you get to the Gotei 13’s facilities North Door. You wonder why you haven’t picked your gigais at squad 12. “Are we visiting Urahara-san, Taicho?” you ask, always keeping the formality to avoid any Shinigami being suspicious.

“No. We are not wearing gigais on this… mission” Byakuya says, without looking at you while you two walk inside the dimensional doors.

You turn around to look at him suspiciously, what is this man planning to do… if you aren’t visiting Karakura town, then… where?

You walk inside the Dangai with quite a fast pace. Byakuya doesn’t seem scared, but you are… a little bit. That time when you had to run away from the Kōtotsu with your best friend wasn’t any funny. Coming back from the living world, a little bit drunk, isn’t easy.

You keep looking everywhere around you as if you were looking for something in particular.

“What?” he asks, looking at you. “The… Kōtotsu” you murmur. You are ashamed; such a strong Shinigami being scared of it. “I wish it could have stayed dead… the only good thing Aizen did in his life was killing that thing” “You want me to replace bad memories with good ones from inside the dangai? because I could” Byakuya, for the very first time, jokes openly.

You stop right in your feet. He is suggesting fucking you inside the dangai? What happened to Kuchiki Byakuya?!

“You are joking. Aren’t you?” you look at him with the side of your eye. “Or you wanna give Kurosutchi Taicho a special show?” you joke back; you can play too.

“I honestly would fuck you here, yes. But now that you reminded me that Kurosutchi is looking at us through the cameras I just- preferred to be eaten by the Kōtotsu…” he murmurs back, looking with his typical sharp and hateful stare to one of the webcams that connects right to Squad’s 12 security facility.

You chuckle. Probably half Gotei 13 knows about you two, but it’s better to play it as if you were two teenagers secretly in love…

As you approach the other side of the senkaimon, your anxious questions come back. “By the way, Kuchiki Taicho…where are we going?” you ask, grazing his pinky. Truth is, that you are dying to grab his hand; but you simply can’t.

However, Byakuya is always a box full of surprises. He takes a soft look at you, and with a subtle smile offers you his hand. “You will want to grab my hand” he says.

You gasp; you might have had intercourse with him but never once walked holding hands. And when everything seemed like a romantic fairy tale, and as you get lost in his addictive dark blue look, the floor underneath your feet disappears.

“WHAT THE FUCK?” you scream, as you fall into an abyss.

“Hold on tight, (Name)” your captain grabs you from your waist, holding you closer to his body. A body with the scent of sex that still lingers on his skin from the night before.

And when you are hugging to him, it doesn’t matter if you are descending to hell; because in Kuchiki Byakuya’s embrace, there is nothing that could hurt you, there is nothing that could scare you and there is nothing that you cared about the most than to resting in his arms.

He graciously lands, with his right foot first and then his left into the sand underneath. You, who have melted into the crook of his neck slowly take a look around. “Welcome to Sunagata, Kyoto prefecture” Byakuya shows you, helping you put your feet down too.

Ahead of you, and endless all blue sea. Sands almost white, transparent waters that let the sea life to be clearly seen through it. “Byakuya… this is… stunning” you murmur, forgetting the -sama at the end. And, he is not mad… he is glad.

“Is it? Turn around” he whispers, putting his heavy, yet delicate hands on your shoulders.

You look behind you, a manor lays ahead, surrounded by greenery and a path of warm lights guiding you inside through a wooden deck. It is by far the most beautiful place you ever been in, and the most romantic gesture so far from Kuchiki Byakuya.

“That- is this like a private beach?” you ask, amazed. You wonder who’s the owner of such beautiful place. Probably a very rich lady or maybe a family of CEO’s… or… is this…

“Even if it is pretty private, we can’t stop people from visiting the beaches. They are after all, property of every human being. However, that house from there…” he points at the entrance. Over the huge doors of exquisite design and even more expensive wood, you can see an emblem you know very well… the Kuchiki clan symbol.

Your eyes widen; they are dead! How could they own something… “Byakuya is this yours?” you ask, amazed.

“Mhh, I never lied when I told you I came to the world of the living for business” he calmly tells, as if it was something normal for gods and semi gods to walk the earth and make millionaire deals like a human.

You frown, but an unconscious smirk garnishes your lips. Such a fancy lover you have, huh?

“Come on, time runs differently in the Dangai. It’s probably already the afternoon in here. Let’s go have something to eat and then come back to the beach. You need to see how sunsets look in here” he informs, grabbing you by your hand and pulling you towards him. “And believe me, I haven’t forgotten about the note… so get ready”

Your romantic moment got suddenly hit by the hard slap of lust still overflowing Byakuya’s body. And it’s ok, it makes your stomach get filled with even more butterflies, and your cheeks to become as hot as the sun itself.

“I haven’t forgotten either, Kuchiki Taicho~” you purr, playing with his fingers so softly and looking at him under your fluttery lashes.

Byakuya stops. He turns to you, frowning and narrowing his sharp eyes. He tilts his head to the side and his pale lips draw the most perverse smirk yet; “Quit looking at me like that cause I won’t be able to stop myself and I will fuck you right here”

You giggle, you are just playing… he is too, right? He wouldn’t fuck you in the open, where everyone can see you, under a scalding sun of a summer in Japan. Right?

He let’s go of your hand, and quickly takes his white haori off. It falls to the sand behind him, and as soon as you realize he has you kneeling in front of him. His soft hand caresses your head, playing with a strand of hair, curling it in between his finger.

“Such a good officer you are” he moans, taking the total dominant role while your knees still hurt from the sand carving on them.

You swallow when you notice his free hand untying his sash around his hipbones, letting it loosely enough for his hakama barely hang from them.

“You… Byakuya-sama… are we doing this in here?” you ask, amazed but still worried. What if someone sees you?

“This is not a high spiritual zone, (Name)… people can’t see Shinigami… unless you want us to wear gigai… then, I’ll be please to fuck you and show the world how good you look when I do” Byakuya scoffs, letting his hakama fall completely down, exposing his drippy hardness in front of you.

Your eyes are now even wider than before, your lips separate when you gasp. “By- Byakuya who… who are you… ngh” you wanna keep talking but your tongue is now occupied with his gland pushing inside your mouth.

You can’t help it but giggle while you gag; this is absolutely weird if not fantastic coming from him. Such adventurous situation never crossed your mind, but soon you remember how much he took in consideration your <whatever, whenever, wherever> note.

In any case, he is not bothered by your lack of oxygen, what´s more, Byakuya is enjoying your eyes becoming glossy from tears forming as he hits the back of your throat with his sex. His slender fingers tangle with your hair, using it for a tighter grip of your head to go deep into your mouth.

You gag, and sometimes even hit his lap softly. “Ngh!!” you moan, feeling the surreal breeze of the open beach.

“Mhh? What is it? Are you enjoying the beach, (Name)?” he asks, before grimacing to the way your throat spasms around his dick. Byakuya throws his head back, letting his long hair fall back and to be blown by the sea wind. His orgasmic image, bathed under golden light, makes him look like a God. A deity that is pleased to posses everything around him; the earth, the sky, the lust and love of you, his loyal servant.  

How shamelessly he enjoys the way your lips surround his sex, in an impure sexual display that no one -hopefully – is watching.

His breathing becomes hasty. His hips move on their own, enjoying the deepness of your mouth, how the tip of your tongue reaches for the base of his cock and even further, and how his cum overflows and fall through the commissure of your lips.

With a loud grunt, he pulls back. You try to breathe, getting a little of the oxygen you’ve been lacking so that your lungs could expand.

It is, for sure, something new to you, to him. He never pulled your hair to fuck your mouth, simply because he never fucked your mouth. Brutality, once again, had taken over his temperance. And, in no way he should be feeling guilty; you are pleased to be the one to give him a little more liberty.

The sound of the waves crushing on the coast replace the pants and moans now. Byakuya pulls his hair back, as it’s all over the place because of the wind -and orgasm-. Then, he extends his hand to you with a white half glove that still shines unpolluted under the summer sun, as pristine as his pale skin.

“Now, come on. I want you to eat something before I leave your legs trembling” he seriously chimes, pulling you up and into his embrace. With his thumb, he cleans your lips and then the little tears that pooled on each side of your eyes.

You open your mouth, you wanna say something but you just can’t. You smile and laugh. Never, and you are sure you are probably dreaming, have you ever seen Byakuya act this way… but, sometimes, the only thing we need is to be free for a day or two…

The house inside looks as clean as his manor in the Seireitei. It is not surprising that he has such minimalistic style, yet, you are sure every item is as expensive as your old house at the Soul Society. Not only it does look clean, but it also is. The scent of such spacious home is delicate and reminds you of the sakura fields of your land.

“Your house is beautiful” you whisper, taking a look around, amazed at every detail.

Byakuya nods at you, always so silent and with an almost invisible smirk. If you had to tell someone he has just had an orgasm, nobody would have believed you.

You follow him inside, with his haori folded in your right arm. You are fighting against the impulse of taking it to your nose and nuzzling into it; there is nothing more delicious than his body scent to you.

A huge, all white kitchen receives you two. It’s full of the most exquisite utensils, and you laugh… for what does he really need so many? Souls don’t eat unless they have lost a lot of reiatsu. And it suddenly hits you; there is, probably, another reason to be losing spiritual pressure that’s not fighting.

“Byakuya-sama, do you come here with your women?” you ask, so nonchalantly and perhaps a little bit unaware of how rude such question sounded to him.

Him, who had open the humongous doors of a platinum refrigerator turns violently to look at you. “Wha- what are you asking, (Name)?” he inquires, half surprised, half pissed off.

You take a step back. You probably went too far with such question. You look to the sides, playing anxiously with the golden tassel of his haori. “I- I’m sorry I didn’t mean to ask such a personal question” you murmur, with burning cheeks.

Byakuya sighs. He calmly closes the doors of the refrigerator and walks up to you. He grabs his captain cape from your hands and leaves it on the table next to you. Your captain takes a moment to think the right words to say, and those minutes seem eternal to you… you simply get ready to be -at least- scolded.

But, he doesn’t scold you.

“(Name)… which women are you talking about? I- you understand I haven’t touched a woman since… Hisana…” he loses the power in his voice when naming his late wife. “I never brought anyone here, not even Rukia has been to this place” he continues, passing his fingers under your chin.

You look at him, mortified. How dare you ask such stupid question? Even if it had been the case and many women passed through his hands, it wouldn’t change the fact that he is now with you, and you are nobody to claim for his exclusivity.

“Plus, I choose this place because I heard you told Rukia you wished we could repeat that time when we visited the beach” he says, looking right into your eyes.

Your lips separate. And it feels as if the time had stopped. He did this because of you…

You can’t resist it, and pounce into him. Hugging his tiny waist with so much love, holding onto his shihakusho with force. You nuzzle into his chest and mumble something similar to “I’m so sorry, Byakuya-sama” while some tears form in your eyes.

But he is not gonna let you feel sad, not now and never if he had the chance to avoid it. “It’s ok, (Name). Are you hungry? Do you want to bake something with me?”

You instantly smile… bake “something” with him means… “SEAWEED AMBASSADOR COOKIES??!” you chime, jumping so excitedly. You have fantasized with baking those cookies with him probably since you known him.

Byakuya’s eyes shine. A beautiful sparkle in his pupils and a sincere loving smile. “Yes, if you… if you want to…” he shily says, unable to understand someone could get that excited to recreate something so dear to him. None of you have mentioned the word love to the other, not yet. And even so, not even once you felt the need to ask… because when Byakuya was near, you could feel his soul hugging yours.

You sniffle and on tippy toes you try to reach for his lips. A peck Byakuya so desperately wants, and he lets you give. A peck that turns into a sweet kiss after, deepening it until you both need to stop… because if you should continue no cookies would be cooked.

Soon you are eager to start gathering for the ingredients; flour, vanilla extract, eggs, milk, butter, and of course, green, and black food colouring. Fortunately, Byakuya has all of that and even more freshly stored in his kitchen.

“You have people preparing this?” you ask, while you search for a bowl on the buffets. “I do, yes. I just have to make a quick call and they will arrange it for me” Byakuya says, grabbing you by your waist and helping you reach the top part of the cupboard.

You notice how warm his hands feel around your waist. Your ass is almost at his face level, and you can’t help but see his eyes fixed on it. He is a man that burns in desire for your body, you aren’t mad… you secretly did the same, many, many times.

“I see… are you hungry? I better hurry up” you giggle, knowing perfectly well what type of hunger he is feeling… again.

“I- not- I- well” he stutters. Probably, one of the only times when Byakuya had stuttered in his life. You notice him nervous, but you prefer to keep it to yourself.

The noble puts you down, but his hands still remain on your waist. And you don’t want him to go away from there. Never. Ever.

First, you crack the eggs and begin to whisk them. Then, the butter. Everything you do, you do it under the controlling look of your beloved captain; Wakame Taishii cookies are no joke to him. It’s a serious matter, and you should take it as such.

You notice he has stopped grabbing you by your waist, and in a quick check against the subtle reflection on the big window against the counter, you see him taking his shihakusho’s upper part. Tied around his waist, letting his abs exposed, he proceeds with caution. “Is the process of making cookies that dirty?”

“Allow me…” he says, passing one of his hands from behind to grab the wooden spoon. “Now, pour the flour little by little while I mix” he commands, speaking almost next to your ear.

A shiver runs through your spine, and your insides are again becoming fire. “Y-yes, you tell me when to stop”

He hums, and you begin doing what he told you to; little by little the white powder fills the bowl, puffing around you two like a bakers mist. When he says it’s enough you stop, and of course, you sneeze.

You clean your nose with your full of flour hands, leaving on your face white spots everywhere. And it makes Byakuya subtly giggle.

“Whaat?” you protest, unaware of your looks. “You surely like for things to get messy” he jokes, turning you around to clean your face.

You pout, innocently playing with him and when he unexpectedly loses himself in your lips -as he always do, when you two are close- you perform a “white attack” on him.

“Hahaha! Now you look like Ginrei!” you mess with him, as you have smeared flour under his nose, as if he had grown a white moustache like his grandpa.

His eye twitches, his mandible tense… “You- you just- you did not do what you just did, (Name)…”

You widen your eyes, and it is even too late for you to think about what has just happened; Byakuya has turned you around, pinned you down to the countertop and will, for the love of God, punish you. Truth is, that he only needed a slight spark to become a fire.

“No- WHAT?” you protest, thinking that he will mess with your hair… but it isn’t quite the exact place he will mess up with.

Byakuya smirks, ever so sadistically and hot as hell. He pulls your hakama down, leaving you absolutely naked <checking that you have kept your word about not using panties during the whole weekend>.

The noble uses his whole palm to caress your ass; tracing circles so delicately but so menacing at the same time. You know what’s next, the problem is when and how hard…

“You know what you did wasn’t ok, right… officer?” he utters, so sexily with a very low and raspier voice than ever.

“I- Forgive my outburst of confidence, Kuchiki Taicho” you murmur, biting your lower lip with your cheek pressed against the flour coated marble counter.

“You know what do we do in squad six when officers disobey their captain? We punish them” he says, giving you the first slap.

It makes you jolt, but you can’t move far from where you are. His strong arm keeps you pinned down. You moan, in pain and pleasure, feeling stingy waves on your glutes.

“And you know what the punish usually involves? Well… whatever the captain wants, and wherever the captain decides, and most importantly whenever the captain wants it… and you know when is that? Is now…”

You can’t help but whine loudly to his words. Even if he wasn’t doing anything to you, by the just tone of his voice your core felt as wet at the sea ahead.

“I wanna fuck you in the ass, (Name)… allow me to do so” he pleads, bending over your body.

His chest, pressed against your back, feels sweaty already. There is something making him so horny, and yet so nervous and anxious. You wonder if this is his first time, but you aren’t worried. You know Byakuya will always take care of you, before anything else.

“Do it… please, Byakuya-sama, fuck my ass” you purr, reaching for his thigh with your nails. You can barely touch him as your position isn’t the most comfortable, but it is enough to show him you are as desperate as he is.

He kisses your nape, nuzzling in it. He inhales your perfume, and then rests there for a couple of seconds. You notice he is gathering courage, and you decide to help him a little bit.

“Byakuya-sama, I’m not afraid. I trust you, just go slow, yes?” you whisper, kissing the hand that he has pressed against next to you on the counter. You can see how his knuckles and fingers ease some tension after your words and sweet gesture.

“Thank you, lov…(Name)” he utters, leaving you speechless. Did he just…

With utmost care, he kneels down. Probably, one of the few times he did. Kisses on the small of your back, behind your thighs, on your glutes. No rush, and a lot of delicacy to enjoy the taste of your flesh.

From pecks to licking, he expertly takes the time to prepare you. If this is his first time, then he must have read enough to know exactly what to do.

You let some little moans slip out of your mouth, his wet tongue feels extremely good back there. And from it, he sometimes uses his fingers back and forth dragging your arousal fluids from your labia to your rear entrance. Once he sees it’s proper, and still so slowly and carefully he uses his fingers that soon are able to move in and out with no pain.

“I know… I know it may hurt you, you can tell me when to stop. Is not about whatever here…” he murmurs, seriously… even if his voice is tinted by lust and trembles as need takes over his brain and body.

“Go ahead, Byakuya-sama; I’m all yours ~” you turn your head to the side to see right into his eyes. There isn’t anything else but trust, based on perhaps… pure love.

He sighs, not annoyed, but anxiously. Standing up, his palm grazes your back all throughout the spine until your nape. Only silk could compare to his touch, and not even so.

His hakama falls down once again, this time, he is completely naked. The window that shows the beach ahead allows sunset rays to filter and kiss with the lilac tones of the dying afternoon his pale flesh.

Touching, preparing himself for ecstasy, getting his fingers coated with his own sprouting lust, he comes closer to your body.

You feel your legs quivering; not because of fear of it hurting… but because of need, of pure sinful impurity taking over your mind, fogging your reason, succumbing to primal desires once more, once again and all because of him. For him.

He passes the tip of his sex from front to back, coating it enough with your overflowing juices. Good lubrication is needed, he read.

You feel his thighs closer to your back ones, the heat of his body mixing with yours as he slides right inside you with no rush and yet so steadily. You take him in with no pain; You feel your insides stretching to point of experiencing a soft burning sensation, yet it only makes you bite your lips in pleasure.

Byakuya, who remained silent up until now, grunts loudly and primarily as he feels the tight pressure of your walls around his shaft. “Ughhh…C- can I move?” he asks, squeezing your right hip side, almost carving his short nails on your skin.

“Please, do. Do it” you can barely pronounce, melting on the countertop, pleading for more, pleading for his thrusts.

Once again Byakuya sighs, he takes his kenseikan off -probably ripping some hairs in the process- and throwing it to the floor. He lets his hair loosely, giving you the first ram. Your belly hits the edge of the cold marble, you get even more pressed against it with the next thrusts of your lover.

He bends over. His hair tickles your shoulders, his lips reach for your ear. As he moves in and out, with closed eyes, he moans and repeats some unintelligible things that get mixed with your whines. But what you do understand are the phrases “tight, so tight” and “you, only you… it’s just you”.

 Byakuya can’t get enough of you, he definitely needs more, so much more. Thus, he passes his hand under your belly, pulling you up, and without getting out of you he walks you towards the big glass door that leads to the beach itself. Now, you can enjoy the sunset he promised… even is the least of your concerns right now.

Your captain, opens your shihakusho upper part, pressing your breasts against the cold window door. Both are aware of people running on the beach, both can see couples enjoying the last minutes of the day right on the coast… but is any of them able to see ghosts? Who knows, none of you really care about it.

And as much as you wish it would last eternally, climaxing is approaching. His fingers intertwined with yours as your palms leave the marks of sweat on the glass. Your chest and belly do the same. The foggy patches left by your mouth and his. Your drippy cunt getting the floor underneath wet, his panting getting so accelerated the minute it passes…

“I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum” Byakuya whispers, grunting, panting in your ear. You can feel the drops of sweat falling on your shoulders, his cheek wetting yours, his chest slippery against your back. The sound of your skins clapping on each other and the way he uses his finger to stimulate your clit as if the anal pleasure wasn’t enough to push you to climax.

“Cum… cum… ngh… it feels so good…” you whine, contorting around his impaling sex, harder every second it passes, and spasming so ready to finish as you do, too.

Byakuya grunts loudly, almost making you slap the window guiding your hands with him, biting your shoulder as tidal waves of orgasmic sensations flood his body.

You can feel the warmth inside you, he can feel how dampened his fingers have become from your orgasm. Byakuya stops pressing you against the door, letting your body fall back almost limpid. He traps you, and slowly gets out of you… even if it’s painful to disconnect your bodies.

“It was amazing…” he whispers, holding you with his hands around your waist and your nape pressed on his shoulder.

The sun finally hides behind a horizon of blue waves that reminds you of his eyes, and a starry night takes over Sunagata…

Part 4

[ruppcake]

Ouhhhh I loved your ficlet…. May I request a part 2? It’s ok if not

Bob Velseb x Small! Reader pt 2

{i added my spooky month persona Rylynn. i will be making a post about them later}

Note: (y/nn) = your nickname, (y/n) = your name, (y/f/d) = your favorite drink

🛑TW🛑: bl00d, d3@d b0di3s, some cursing, bob being a c@nnib@l. if you can’t handle that stuff please don’t not read. i don’t want anyone to be uncomfortable or triggered.

{your pov}

You started walking back towards the road that led to the woods. The encounter you had with the red devil guy was a little interesting. Not sure if you should say it was good or bad. It was just…interesting. The cool breeze felt nice on your face as you walked down the street. The only thing on your mind was Bob and how he didn’t seem like how people have described him. When you heard about him for the first time, you thought he would be more intimidating and very brutal towards others. Not an ounce of kindness or anything like it but actually meeting him changed how you thought of him. Change your perspective on a few other things as well. You shook your head as you got to the steps of your house reaching for your keys. Unlocking the door, you enter into your house, closing it behind you before going further into the cozy cabin before flipping a light switch on. You look around seeing everything was still as it was when you left and decide to go to the kitchen to make yourself a warm drink.

{Bob’s pov}

His latest victim dropped to the ground with a thud after stabbing them in the back a few times. It was his fourth one that night. He looked at the knife as the blood from it was dripping to his feet. He licked it while chuckling to himself. Bob put his weapon away and went to pick up the body then heard a sound coming from behind him. He turned to see a tall figure standing in the shadows before it moved closer to Bob. Once the tall figure got into the light, Bob saw it was just his friend, Frank. He sighed glaring at Frank for startling him. “Dammit Frank! Don’t be scaring me like that!” Bob said, putting his hands on his knees to calm himself before picking up the body on the ground. The tall man chuckled at the red devil man’s reaction. “Sorry Bob. Thought you knew it was me since you were expecting me to show sooner or later.” Frank looked behind him at his van that was full of Bob’s other victims. “Especially since I’ve been carrying these bodies for you.” Bob walked over to the van putting the body in. “Well you did owe me a favor since I’ve helped you in the past. Remember?” Frank sighed in annoyance at Bob bringing that up. “I thought we agreed we would never bring that up again…” Bob chuckled, closing the door before turning around to face Frank again. “Let's just get this back to your house so I can clean my van from all the blood.” Frank went around the van to get in the driver’s seat while Bob got in the passenger’s seat. Frank started the car and drove off. The van was completely silent as they traveled along the road throughout the town. Bob looked out the window every now and then looking at all the buildings they were driving past.

Frank looked over at him clearing his throat before speaking. “So uh did you hear about that new killer? I believe they are called (y/nn)? I heard they have never been caught by the police yet.” Bob was taken out of his thoughts when he heard your nickname and that got him thinking about you now. He started thinking about what you said to him before you walked away. He thought about going to see you but he was not sure when to do so. While he was thinking about you, Frank was trying to get his attention. “Hey bob? You alright man?” Bob got shaken out of his thoughts looking at the man who was driving and trying to register what he said. Before he could answer, sirens were blasting from behind them making both men turn around to see the police on their trail. Frank steps on the gas speeding down the street cursing to himself. Bob held onto the dashboard and door of the van scared shitless of how fast the taller man was driving. They raced through the town leading into the woods finding a place to hide the van from the cops. Frank parked the van behind some trees and shrubs, turning the car off waiting for the police to get off their trail before they could continue with where they were originally going. The cop car drove past continuing down the street. Frank chuckled to himself seeing the cops driving away. Bob was still in the van trying to catch his breath from what just occurred. He got out of the van still breathing heavily putting his hands on his knees. Frank opens the sliding door of the vehicle getting ready to unload it. Bob comes around on the other side and glares at Frank. “You doing alright, old man?”

The shorter man elbowed the taller one chuckling a bit. “Yea yea I’m alright, ya jackass.” Frank smirked, grabbing some of the bodies out. “We should probably get going before the cops come back.” Bob nodded before grabbing the rest of the bodies and heading towards his home. Frank followed behind him. “So going back to our conversation before we got chased, have you heard about that new killer at all?” Bob looked at him and sighed. “I actually got to meet them earlier today before I went on my killing spree. I thought they were just a normal person. They were going to be my first victim of the evening until they caught me before I could strike at them. It caught me off guard. We talked for a bit afterwards and I’m planning on seeing them again. They seem interesting.” Frank looked at him smirking away. “Heh yea. I’ve seen them before too but I never got to really talk to them. It was when they were out killing. I only got a glimpse of them before they disappeared.” Bob nodded after hearing what Frank said. “They live around here as well. When I was heading back to the house, I saw them walking to town by themselves.” Frank hummed in response. Both men got to the house unlocking and entering the place.

{your pov}

You were sitting on the couch in the living room with (y/f/d) taking in the silence of the house. You enjoyed listening to the silence but you also like to have company but silence seemed a bit more nicer to you. Usually your roommate would come join you but they had something to do for a friend. Sighing you put your cup down on the coffee table and slouched on the couch staring up at the ceiling. Your mind started to slip back into the thoughts you were having earlier about your encounter with Bob. You were dragged out of your thoughts when you heard the front door unlock and someone entered into the house. Looking towards the door, you see that it was just your roommate, Rylynn, finally back home. “Well look who finally came home. Welcome back, Rylynn.” They looked at you giving a tired smile. “Yea sorry. Took longer than I thought. Did you go out at all while I was gone?” You nodded, taking a sip of your drink. Rylynn took their shoes and jacket off, putting them by the door. “Yea I went out for a bit but decided against walking in the woods for tonight since there’s a bunch of criminals on the loose. I walked around town, talked to a person or two, then went back home.” They nodded, walking over to the couch and standing next to you. “Yea I would have been home earlier but my friend got a little paranoid about a lot of dangerous people being on the loose lately so I had to stay with her for a bit until her partner showed up then I came home.” You looked at your roommate studying them a bit. “No one tried to hurt you, right?” Rylynn shook their head and grabbed your shoulder. “I didn’t get into any danger while coming home. I promise I’m alright.” They rubbed their eyes a bit yawning while doing so. “We should probably get sleep since you still have to look for a new job and I have work tomorrow.” Rylynn nodded as you got up, putting your cup in the kitchen before you both headed upstairs for bed.

{Bob’s pov}

Bob was in the kitchen cutting up the ‘meat’ he just got for himself before stashing it away for later. Frank sat in the living room with the tv on. He had the news on listening in on what had been going on and if the police were on their trails. Bob would glance over every once in a while. “Ya got a place to stay tonight, Frank?” Frank got pulled out of his thoughts and looked over. “Was probably going to stay in my van. Why?” Bob ceased what he was doing before lowering the cleaver looking at Frank. “Frank, ya don’t need to stay in your van. There’s a guest bedroom you can stay in. It’s the least I can do since you are family after all.” Frank sighed getting up from the couch then fully faced Bob. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt to stay for a night or two. Thanks Bob, ya weird bastard cousin of mine.” Bob chuckled a bit before shaking his head. “Yea yea! You're welcome, ya asshole.” Frank smirked, stretching a bit while yawning. “Well I should probably shower then head to bed. I’ll see ya in the morning then. Night Bob.” “Night Frank.” Bob said before going back to doing what he was doing previously. Frank went upstairs for the night. Bob was left alone. With only his thoughts, the sound of the news on tv still going, and the clear cutting into ‘meat’. His mind went back to when he first met you and how you said you wouldn’t mind seeing him. Bob smiled to himself before saying to himself in his mind ‘I might try to go and see (y/n) tomorrow afternoon or evening.’ He finished up the work he had to do before heading upstairs for a shower as well then headed off to bed for the night.

sorry this took me a while to send. life has been crazy. thank you for the request and i hope you liked it! ☺️🫂