#While no one is in a thirty feet vicinity of me.

[manifested-phant0m]

I adore talking to myself when I’m alone because I find myself to be a comedian, but sometimes I wish I was like… in the Truman show or was secretly being recorded like a show and people would make videos or like… Gacha reacts to some of the stuff I say. Clowning around in the creators brain. I am my own fool in the kings court,

[koishiro]

# - 𝐏𝐀𝐘 𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐄 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒𝐒

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ — 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄 : fluff, suggestive

masterlist | jjk masterlist | anon masterlist

𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎  ੈ✧̣̇˳·˖✶

When Gojo wants attention he makes it everyone’s problem. He’ll do anything in his power just to get an ounce of your time. Not to mention he’s more vocal than anything. So as you’re sat at your desk, pen in hand as you mark last week’s homework you hear the tell-tale sounds of a grown man rolling back and forth on your office floor.

“Honeyyyy”

Ignoring his continuous whining you continue on with marking your student’s hand-ins as your husband flops back and forth in an attempt at gaining your attention.

“It’s been thirty (30) minutes!! Have I done something again?”

At this point he’s given up with mindlessly rolling on your floor, instead taking it upon himself to wrap his long limbs around you - in essence caging you against your chair.

Rolling your chair back Gojo falls to his knees, moving to wrap his arms around your waist and head on your lap, “babyyyy - my sweet, sweet mochi - I’ll die without your love!”

Which led you up to now, sat on Gojo’s lap as he takes your place in your chair, his arms wrapped tightly around your mid section as he spreads an array of kisses from your neck to your shoulder and so-forth.

“See, this ‘s much better hm?”

𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔  ੈ✧̣̇˳·˖✶

Unlike his former friend, Geto is subtle when it comes to moments like these. He doesn’t care when or where you both are, if he wants attention, he’ll get it one way or another.

If you’re paying more attention to someone else you best know he’ll stretch his arm across you

Like right now, sitting next you on your shared couch while he sports a very obvious pout but not so obvious for you to catch on - too immersed in your conversation to notice.

Stretching his arm above your head to what you thought was your boyfriend repositioning himself into a more comfortable position until you felt the quick fingers of your boyfriend snatch your phone with the speed and precision of a trained athlete.

You felt cheated; that is until his lips softly grazed your earlobe before uttering four simple words, “wan’ your attention darlin’”

And so it continues,

As you’re cooking in the kitchen, you hear the padded feet of your boyfriend nearing closer before the feeling of his bare chest hit your back, his large calloused hands kneading the fat of your tummy.

“Sleep okay?” His morning voice was a gruff whisper, barely audible even in the stillness of the room. It softened when he spoke to you, though you knew it took great effort for him to do so; meekly murmuring his words as if they were meant only for you, forming your own intimate secret within your shared space.

Humming back in a tired ‘yes’, you waited patiently for the two slices of toast to pop out. His voice broke into your silence, snapping you out of your trance, "Why'd you get up so early hm? Missed ya warmth," he went on. His gentle words carried through the kitchen and beyond, washing over you like an enveloping blanket while you watched as countless molecules of butter slowly melted down the knife you held onto tightly when at last they emerged from the toaster.

Feeling a slight pinch on the flesh of your tummy snapped you back into reality, “oi, pay attention to me princess”, he all but whined.

Feeling his hand sneak it’s way towards your own he gently placed the knife down, feebly nudging your body towards the hall that led to your shared bedroom, “come back t’bed ‘n keep me warm m’kay?”

𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐈 𝐘𝐔𝐉𝐈  ੈ✧̣̇˳·˖✶

This would affect Yuji big time, he’d have trouble computing if he doesn’t receive his daily dose of affection.

He’d often be found clinging onto you or at least somewhere in your vicinity so when he’s seen trudging around school grounds, tired after training with Gojo it’s already known that he’s on his way to your dorm.

The first thing Yuji did was face plant on your cold and unoccupied bed planning on cuddling up to you and washing away his thoughts and worries until he realises you weren’t there. Instead, you were too preoccupied at your desk to notice your own boyfriend’s arrival.

“Baby?” The sound of your boyfriend could be heard from across the room, almost a low quiet whisper, “you okay?”

The simple question made you smile, wanting nothing more than to wrap yourself in the comfort of his arms but the pressure of your current assignments due in by tomorrow held you back.

You gave a simple nod in response not wanting to tear your eyes away from the page in possibility of losing focus and getting distracted by the puppy dog eyes you know held place on his face.

You felt the weight of Yuji’s head rest against yours as he slung his arms over either side of your shoulders as he continued, “why don’t you come to bed? You can finish this in the mornin’, you got class in the afternoon don’tcha?”

“Yuji I can’t, I really have to get these done tonight” of course though, Yuji wouldn’t take this lightly, he’d lean his entire body weight on you - practically going limp as he continues his complaints,

“I’ll help you if you just come to bed, I promiseee” this didn’t exactly convince you per-se but the thought of carrying on studying until the early hours wasn’t exactly appealing.

Minutes later you were tucked under your duvet, a heap of blankets scrambled on top as you tangled your limbs with Yuji’s. His face nestled in the crook of your neck as squeezes the fat of your thigh every now and then.

“See, isn’t this much better”

𝐌𝐄𝐆𝐔𝐌𝐈 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎  ੈ✧̣̇˳·˖✶

Just like Geto, Megumi isn’t exactly vocal when it comes to - well, anything really. But especially not when it comes to affection or more specifically wanting attention.

He held small little give-aways like when he’d tug on the end of your shirt or hooked a finger in your belt loops if you strayed too far or how he’d play with the ends of your hair if he felt anxious or overstimulated.

Megumi’s thought process is that he doesn’t want to get too attached but he also certainly doesn’t want to chase you away by any means.

Which results in you having to make the first move half the time like right now, feeling the burning gaze of your boyfriend from the living room he’s currently sat in - not once tearing his eyes away from your figure in the open kitchen.

This was one of Megumi’s endearing traits, silently asking for your attention which usually you had no complaints about but there were times where you played along acting as if you hadn’t the faintest clue of what he wanted.

Megumi's eyes glimmered, shifting between yours and the empty space next to him on the loveseat, silently asking you to join him. His expression was earnest but restrained - he wanted you there with him but seemed too embarrassed by his own feelings to make it obvious. From across the room you could see a slight flush of pink hue across his cheeks, almost like a plea for your company without any words needing spoken between them.

He tried to contain himself as he waited, but it was visible in the way his body shifted closer and closer towards the edge of his seat, aiming to close up some of the vast space separating you. His fingers fumbled with themselves as they traced along the fabric of his sweatpants in an anxious rhythm; indicating that something was on his mind. A small lip bite only added to this eagerness until you eventually returned and took your place next to him.

Megumi shifted ever so closer to you, and you felt a dip in the couch beside you as your body moved towards his. He took the opportunity to wrap an arm around your waist while he tugged you against him, your legs entwined with no space left between you. His breath was warm in contrast to the chill of winter outside, and you could feel his heart beating steadily against yours like a lullaby soothing away any doubts; apparently, you were close enough now.

Megumi rubbed the skin of your thigh as it lay across his, “stop going too far, I want you here”

𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎  ੈ✧̣̇˳·˖✶

Oh you’ll know if Toji is touch starved and deprived of attention. He’ll have his large calloused hands rubbing up and down your body 25/8.

He doesn’t care where you are, if he wants you he’ll have you. Even as you’re in the farmer’s market, he’s stood tall behind you his hands rubbing you up and down keeping the heat radiating from your body.

He stood behind you in the farmer's market, his hands kneading your body through the fabric of your clothing. His heat seemed to seep inside of you and overtake every sense within reach. You could feel his desire lingering like a cloud around you; it was clear he wanted every inch of what you had to offer and no matter where you were, he would take what is rightfully his.

He’d rub and grab at anything in reach as if restoring heat into your body - letting his touch be known even through the crowds of people bustling around.

“What about tomatoes, will you eat those then?” You’ve had a hard time so far convincing Toji he needed to eat at least something healthy.

“Nah,” you clearly weren’t having much luck with the big mountain-of-a-man clinging onto you from behind while simultaneously smacking his hand if it wandered too far.

“Then what do you want to eat?” You had been wandering round the market for at least an hour in an attempt to at least find one thing your husband will eat for dinner. Toji’s been more of a man-baby as of late which included being more handsy, huffing and puffing anytime you left the room, and of course wasting time at the market just so he could get a few extra minutes clinging onto you.

It would’ve been endearing had he not been trying to cop-a-feel any chance he could get; hands sliding too far up your shirt to be socially accepted, slapping your ass every time you bent to pick something up and even nudging your head back with his hand around your neck if you so happened to ignore something he said followed by the constant innuendos.

“I’d rather eat what’s between your thighs”

𝐓𝐎𝐆𝐄 𝐈𝐍𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐈  ੈ✧̣̇˳·˖✶

Toge is the most subtle out of everyone unless you’re both alone of course, since he’s not able to use speech he’ll be more physically affectionate, that includes softly wrapping his around your waist when your back’s turned, soft surprising kisses on the back of your neck if you’re too engrossed in studying and even cozying up to you, shuffling into your space as you both often lie there in silence.

That’s one of those moments, you’re lying on the couch with a book in hand - too engrossed with the words staining the page to notice a small head of white hair padding his way towards you.

Feeling a movement on the couch, you shift your eyes towards the culprit of the noise only to find two amethyst puppy-like eyes staring straight back at you as if caught in the act.

Which he technically was; one hand held your top up while his head was caught mid-dive, ready to slither his way under your shirt. This only deterred the boy for a minute, soon gaining back his composure before continuing his path under and out the top of your (his) shirt.

“Happy now?” Placing one hand on top of the white mess he calls hair, gently stroking and playing with each strand like you would a cat. Toge all but hums in contentment, now filled with warmth and the satisfaction of gaining your attention even if just for a moment as you turn your head back towards the pages of your book.

This wasn’t enough for Toge though, a quick pinch to your thigh telling you exactly that. Another quick pinch followed by a ‘hmph’ indicated he wanted more, “hm?”

Nudging his head towards the book you held in one hand, you understood what he was after, “wan’ me to read t’ you?” Quickly answered by a small nod, you did just that.

Turning your gaze back to the pages once more you started from the beginning of your chapter, a pleased and satisfied smile on both your faces.

𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎 𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈  ੈ✧̣̇˳·˖✶

Surprising to a lot of people, Nanami is quite open with you. He doesn’t usually hold back when you’re both in the confines of your home but it’s rare,

Both being extremely busy leads to you waking up at different times, always missing the other before heading to work. Of course you’d share fleeting glances and quick kisses anytime you could, but it didn’t make up for the sheer emptiness you both held in your heart.

Being so busy often meant that you’d forgetfully leave your lunch behind, only remembering once your lunch break came up. Lately though, you had started work earlier than your husband causing you to wake up earlier than he usually would which would result in Nanami trudging into the kitchen after a routined kiss goodbye only to find your bento box sat on the middle of the counter… next to your purse.

At first Nanami would worry, thinking that you’d go without for the rest of the day knowing you never eat breakfast until a smile would lift at the corners of his lips, realising he could deliver it himself.

And that’s just what Nanami did, striding through the school’s hallways in search of your office. Knocking on your door in a rhythm kept hidden between you both, he entered through the small crack he created.

“Darling?” It was obvious you were too absorbed in your work to notice your husband’s sudden presence. Nanami stood quietly in the open space of your office, not knowing exactly what to do.

Seeing a dark coloured bento box being placed on the side of your desk out of the corner of your eye you lift your head up, surprised to see your husband stood before you, “Kento?”

The man in question made his way to your side, brushing a hand through your hair before placing a kiss on your forehead, “you forgot your bento”

“What would I do without you,” a small content smile spread its way onto his face, happy to have spent an extra few minutes with you that you normally wouldn’t have. Nanami let his hand fall from playing with your hair to the top of your arm, running his thumb soothingly up and down.

You had a sense that Kento was hesitant with leaving by the way he loitered at your side and the pressure he kept around your shoulders.

“You okay?” You ask him, swivelling your chair to face him. Nanami takes the chance to take hold of your hands,

“mhm, jus’ miss you is all” you barely heard before his lips landed on your own.

—

— 𝘒𝘰𝘪 𝘹𝘰

[s0lemnhypn0s]

hello everybody im normal. Songs I think are billford

The Three-Legged Waltz by MarkH

"The two become one / In this union you see / But the two don't move freely / They're bound at the knee / To the other / To the other"

"This kind of trouble / Is not lots of fun / I suggest you don't wait / Before you run / while you can / While you can"

"Three legs are better than one / In this union / The two become one / And until that rope gets undone / They waltz"

Thermodynamic Lawyer Esq, G.F.D by Will wood

"Blood vessels drying and curling inside are / Unfurling from out of her wrists / Well, she wrings out a snake and collects all its poison / Intending on learning to hiss / Foaming at the mouth with a head full of acid / Giving some poor illness the blame / Knocking the pieces the fuck off the chessboard / Insisting that she's won the game"

"So all that I see absolute entropy / As the chemical bonds fall apart / Well, it seems she broke me / But I swear she could not break my heart / She could not break my heart! / Oh lord!"

Whose eye is it anyway??? by Jhariah

"My head is overflowing, with these thoughts / That if I return the favor you might understand / But I know, I know you could never carry the burden / You've left with me and I can't give it back / So why even try?"

"An arm and a leg, my friend, les yeux d'la tête / I never give as much as I get / This path of heart attacks is paved with folks / Who only gave their enemies what they had coming / I don't know if it's worth it"

Dopamine_machine by Ferry

"Have your barricades really decayed? / You're running lemonade at thirty six degrees centigrade / Inside your lemon veins / and your hearts a lemon grenade / You think I'm playing charades, masquerade / But this machine just needs an upgrade"

"In your dreams, you see yourself forever weaving / Holy webs, you wake up looking at the ceiling / Dopamine is coursing through your head and leaving / Emptiness, its leaving emptiness / You feel betrayed"

"Oh, this isn't the end / Hold my hand / There is no need to play these games and pretend / All is lost / Take it from me, this voice in your head / Nurture that monster under your bed / and feel the taste of lead again / My friend"

Red moon by Will Wood

"Red, red moon, keep on rising / The sunset soon indeed will bleed in my horizon / The crescent rests, tethered to the west / Waxing to the rhythm writhing in my chest / That crack between the watercolor sky and sea is the / Corner where you're born in the mist / I might deride the tide / 'Cause I'm pulled as it pools 'round my feet / Towards your stolen light / While I'm held in your slight gravity"

"Well, I walk the equator, chasing the light / Little do I know it orbits close behind / I might remember or might assume / But I only turn around every once / In a red, red moon / I said I only turn around every once in a red, red moon"

"Red, red moon / When will your shadows break? / Tell the truth: What're you hiding behind that face? / If matter's in then I might space out / Why can't I take in what you've been dishing out? / Why do I reject, while you endlessly reflect? / You're projecting, your perfection astounds / Nighttime, please hide my eyes / So the man up there won't watch me stare / Teach me to make moonshine / And we'll get drunk on the spirits in the air"

Spider on the wall by Ghost

"Found on march 15th / Transparency, this isn't me / Left out boundaries / Vicinity, this isn't me / Play pretending, should it be so / Lock the diary, so you don't know / I've been watching you"

"Found in broken shards / Those swollen hearts, I've played a part / Invalid boundaries / Keep singing, means not a thing / Can't be bothered letting go / A shrine of excess vulture bones / So burn the house down, now that you know / I've been watching you"

"Bottles broken after everytime our eyes meet / Dedicated life, oh I pray you'll never see me / Please don't think of me forever in the wrong way / Pictures of your face from the era of the recall / Hanging on the wall / Pictures of your face, oh I pray you'll never see me / Spider on the wall"

[isalisewrites]

TERRIBLE, BUT GREAT - CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

SUMMARY:

“Harry Potter.” The cold burrowed into his flesh, the scent of cloying death and molding earth clogged his senses.

“The Boy Who Lived.”

A strange sense of loss and disappointment rose within him. That brilliant, yet cruel boy could’ve been so much more if he’d not stepped down this bloodied path.

Terrible, but great. He pitied this creature.

“Come to die.”

Harry Potter faced the flash of green light with the bravery of a Gryffindor and the broken heart of a Hufflepuff.

---

When Death gives Harry a third option, one that can save everyone he ever cared about, he takes it unflinchingly. Even when that means doing the impossible: falling in love with the enemy, Tom Riddle.

---

THIRTY-FIVE EXCERPT:

“Well, if she’s not your type, Harry, I’m sure I could help you find—”

Roland’s spoon snapped in half; he flinched with a sharp gasp, dropping the broken end of his spoon; it clinked onto the table. The flare of familiar magic crackled and prickled against Harry’s skin, his neck and arm hair standing on end. A faint shiver slid through Harry at the feel of it. The other Slytherin boys froze, their collective gazes swiveling onto Tom.

Tom’s knuckles were white; his tight grip on his fork shook. Tom’s lips thinned, their color stark against his pale skin.

Alphard blinked awake. “Did I just… feel accidental magic from Tom?” he asked in a sleepy voice. He scrunched his eyes. “That’s unusual.”

The blood drained further from Tom’s cheeks.

Roland grinned. “Oho,” he drawled in delight. He grabbed another fork. He leaned an elbow onto the table, glee in his eyes. “Did you wanna shag her, Tom? I’m sure she’d get over herself if you asked with your usual charm—”

Roland’s second fork flung upwards, snapping in half midair. A couple of Slytherin girls cried out, while everyone in the vicinity ducked; the broken fork clanged onto the table, one part landing in a pitcher of pumpkin juice and sending a spray of liquid everywhere. The other piece landed on Simon’s plate, splattering his breakfast all over his front.

Bloody hell.

“Damn,” murmured Alphard.

Quintus’ lips trembled with the visible effort of holding back a smirk.

Cheeks a bright pink with his features pinched in suppressed emotion, Tom bolted to his feet and threw his bag over his shoulder; he fled the Great Hall.

Quintus smacked Roland on the shoulder; Roland squawked in protest. “You have no tact whatsoever,” he muttered.

“Me?” cried Roland. “After what you said a few weeks ago? Have you heard the shit the two of you go on about? I wasn’t saying anything weird. I was just asking if—”

“You were crass,” said Simon. His brow twitched low; his nostrils flared. He vanished the mess from his robes with a roll of his eyes. “And you know this already.”

Roland grinned. He shrugged and didn’t say anything.

Marcus shook his head. “Still… that was a bit strange, wasn’t it?”

“What was?” asked Sebastian.

“I think that’s the first time I’ve ever seen uncontrolled magic from Tom.”

---

What in Salazar’s name was that?

Tom was trembling; his magic rippled beneath his skin, wild and restless. He could feel the disquiet and the agitation in his very magic.

He hid in an alcove next to a suit of armor and covered his face with his hands. He never lost control like that. Never. What was happening to him? This was utter madness. I’m losing myself. Control was his strength. He could not lose that. Control over himself was what set him apart from everyone else. Total control over his emotions, his body, his magic. With these, he could control everyone else.

But if he lost that… He lost everything that made Tom who he was.

This didn’t make any sense.

He was getting enough sleep. His wand wasn’t disobeying him or causing any trouble at all. Since when did he have problems with his accidental magic? He never had issues like that. He hadn’t even had issues with it when he was a child, at least not for long. He’d quickly learned how to have total control over his magic as a child.

What is this? What is happening to me?

Tom leaned against the wall, his head knocking lightly against the brick. He took a deep calming breath. Calm down. If he analyzed what was said and what had triggered the lose of control, he’d be able to mitigate losing it the next time.

Olive.

That awful girl had been the problem.

Right?

Having the audacity to break traditions, asking Harry out as her date—they weren’t a couple, so where had she come off with the gall to ask Harry to the Yule Ball? If she’d waited, she might’ve gotten a dance out of Harry.

The suit of armor creaked beside him. The fire in the nearby lamps flickered. Tom’s heart rate spiked. The control over his magic began slipping again and he had to place a hand over his heart in the effort to calm it down.

Okay, maybe she wasn’t the only problem.

It was the idea of Harry dancing with her that irritated him and Tom wasn’t sure what to make of this strange feeling that bubbled and coiled deep within his gut.

And Roland’s disgusting language about sleeping with her irritated Tom even further.

The idea of finding Harry in a forbidden tryst with the girl in the confines of a broom cupboard filled Tom with apocalyptic levels of rage.

Right, that was a very normal reaction. Right. He certainly didn’t feel the same way when Alphard and Quintus got up to their mischief. Why should he feel any differently about Harry?

Oh, but he did.

And Tom didn’t understand why.

[alatariel-gildaen]

@finneganhart whhhhhhhyyyyyyy. Why have you made me start yet another ridiculous and ambitious crossover that will inevitably eat up half my life 🤣🤣🤣

Anyway, here ya go. It's a start. God only knows where it's going next!

A warm breeze carried a cool ocean spray that landed across his closed eyelids. It was a pleasant sensation, and one at absolute odds with the hellish sounds that reached his ears. Screams. Shouts. Cries for help. And an unearthly screeching sound, as of metal being ripped asunder.

Daryl’s eyes flew open, bearing witness to the carnage surrounding him. About thirty yards away, half on the sandy beach, half in the sea, was the fuselage of the destroyed jet plane that had been taking him home. A great scar had been torn through the nearby woods, as if the plane had crashed there, only finally coming to rest at the water’s edge. Black smoke billowed from inside, reaching up into the sky in a thick chimney.

And next to the fuselage, cleaved away as if by an almighty machete, one of the plane’s wings, the engine still attached, sputtering away as it tried to use up the last of its fuel.

Bits of shrapnel, seats, destroyed luggage, and worse — bone and flesh and blood — littered the beach, but amongst them all there were still people. Some screaming alone amidst the confusion. Others desperately calling for their loved ones.

A man of around his own age was closest to him. The man looked around fearfully, panic in his eyes, and screamed, “Carl! CARL!” over and over.

The search for lost loved ones kicked his brain and body into gear, and he scrambled to his feet. “Merle?” he called out, eyes scanning the terrified faces of any survivors he saw, but they had their own fears and worries, and not a single one spared him a glance. “MERLE!”

He saw the flash of light a split second before the explosion reached his ears, and the already blazing heat of the sun-drenched beach increased tenfold. The engine went up in a ball of flames, sending some of the survivors flying, engulfing others, and when the flames retreated they moved no more.

Daryl stared at the wreckage, almost forgetting to breathe. First time out of the country — hell, first time out of Georgia — and this had to happen.

He closed his eyes, and was back on the plane. He could still feel the turbulence, then the shock as the plane dropped a couple of hundred feet instantly. The panic as the gas masks dropped from the ceiling, and the fearful realization that he was going to die. He had turned to Merle who had nodded at him, then a split second later a dreadful screech had rent the air as the tail of the plane broke away.

Then there was nothing. Nothing until he woke up on the beach.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a teenage boy emerge from the edge of the woods. The boy looked around then started running towards the man who was still shouting for Carl. The two embraced, and Daryl looked away, embarrassed. He saw another child — a girl this time — being held by her mother, a slender and striking looking woman with short, graying hair, while a burly-looking tower of a man forcibly steered them away from the wreckage, away from the other survivors.

The sight of all these people with their loved ones left Daryl feeling empty. With a renewed desperation, he began picking his way through the debris, searching the wreckage for anything, any tiny clue as to his brother’s whereabouts. Nothing.

People were slowly drifting away from the fuselage, possibly fearful of more fiery explosions, and Daryl scanned each of their faces. Merle was not amongst them. The only person that remained in the vicinity was a man in a suit who was bent double over a body, giving mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. Daryl ran to the man’s side, hopeful that he had found Merle at last, but the body proved to be a young blond man, who began coughing and spluttering, and dazedly sat up straight.

“You okay?” said the man in the suit, to which the young blond replied, “I… I think so,” in an English accent.

Daryl began to move away, but the man in the suit turned to him and said, “Can you help me move him? I want him away from the fumes.”

Daryl looked around once more and gave a brief nod. He was wasting time that could be spent searching for his brother, but it was good to know that if Merle was unconscious, maybe this man could help. The two of them awkwardly helped the blond man to his feet and semi-dragged him away from the smoking wreck.

“Thank you,” said the man in the suit, but Daryl had already begun to stalk away, not caring about anyone who had been on the plane except one man. He had travelled all the way to Australia to bring his estranged brother home. He had sold everything he owned, had worked double shifts for a month, had begged and borrowed, to raise the money for his brother’s bail, and for their plane tickets back. He couldn’t lose him now.

Seriously though, if anyone wants this, please take it off my hands. My five other started crossovers are sideeyeing me, and it's making me nervous 😅

I was just thinking about the Lost/TWD crossover that I will never *ever* get round to writing, and this one exchange popped in my head.

On a trek through the jungle. Sawyer's past has been discovered and he's got that look of self pitying, angry loathing (you know the one) plastered on his face.

Daryl: pfft. Least your daddy had the decency to off himself. I had to live with mine.

Please, someone take this fic and write it. I have to know what happens next 🤣

[metagalacticx]

the spider-man meme where they’re all pointing at each other but it’s a conversation like “i said i didn’t like you like that because you said you didn’t like me” “but i said i didn’t like you because you were literally in love with someone else” then “i only said i was in love with them because you didn’t want me!” Thiam

cw & tw below the cut: minor references to alcohol and other people being drunk

"Truth or dare?"

Theo’s on the outskirts of the madness, one arm stretched along the back of the couch while the other tips the near-empty can of coke to his lips. Corey’s somewhere off to the side, grinning as guys come up to him and whisper into his ears before he waves them off, but his eyes stay focused on the ring in the center of the room. The circle of legs folded, feet touching and laps masquerading as seats for the juniors currently engaged in the most childish game ever invented.

"Dare," some girl says. And she has to take her top off.

So original.

He’s not usually this cranky, but he is pissed. Because Corey said it was a senior party and even though he’s not a senior he’d rather hang around them than spend another Friday night at college glaring at drunk freshmen who choose to throw up in his vicinity.

"Pretty sure Liam’s going," he’d said. And Theo had huffed and asked if he was trying to convince him not to go, but Corey knew he’d got him. They had headed out thirty minutes after that.

Right now, Liam, who’s in the one humanities course Theo is taking this semester, is plastered to some other guy. The one Corey hasn’t taken his eyes off the entire time. They’re best friends, and Corey’s said his name enough that Theo should remember it, but he’s learnt over the years that words hold power, and he tries hard enough to refer to Liam as ‘the annoying brat’ when he’s in his room and Corey’s asking him about why he’s pissed on a Tuesday afternoon. Theo’s pretty sure saying his best friend’s name will invite some supernatural force to bring more chaos into his life.

Because another thing he’s learned over the years is that he is cursed.

He can admit it openly now, since Corey badgered him enough to get him to acknowledge that he wanted to hold the guy’s stupid hand and walk with him after class to the cafe across campus where he always orders orange juice and a sandwich. He likes Liam— liked Liam. Is desperately trying not to like Liam.

But Theo is cursed. So here is, listening to Liam laugh his way through the stupid game while Theo tips an empty coke can to his head.

"Dare."

His eyes snap to the circle, and he catches the defiant way Liam tilts his head. Corey grins over at him, taking his eyes off plaid shirt for the first time all night, and wiggles his brows.

"I dare you," plaid shirt says, "to tell the person you like that you like them."

Theo’s heart immediately ticks up, and he needs to leave now. It’s bad enough he has to sit moping, but to be forced to sit through Liam calling his crush right in front of him? Fuck that.

Plaid shirt smirks and Theo pushes off the couch, bores his way through the drunk horde and heads straight for the door. He can’t leave, because he’s Corey’s ride. But he scans the front yard and decides to head to the wall bordering the side of the house. At least he can sit there.

As soon as he’s seated, he realises he’s left his phone somewhere inside, probably on the couch. Maybe on the table where he got the coke. Or it could still be in his truck. Fuck.

He’s on his way to the street, because he’d rather check the truck first, when he hears someone call out to him.

"Wait up!"

He spins and comes face-to-face with a heaving Liam, cheeks flushed under the streetlight by the entrance to the yard.

"Theo, wait!"

Theo wishes he’d gone straight to his truck.

"I—" he starts, but Liam cuts him off.

"I can’t drink," he says, his chest rising and falling with quick breaths.

Theo’s taken aback but only a few seconds pass before he responds, careful to lower his voice, "I know. Meds, right?"

"Yeah. You remember."

Of course I remember. I’m in love with you.

Theo groans and starts again, "Look, I have to go."

"I have to do the dare. Because I can’t drink."

He doesn’t bother to stop his face from twisting with annoyance, "So go do the dare, Liam. What does that have to do with—"

"I like you."

Theo’s face is still sour, he knows, but the words stun him. His heart feels like it’s trying to force its way up through his throat.

"I like you, and I had to tell you. Because I can’t drink. So, yeah."

What…?

Liam bites his lip, and his cheeks are pink. "Sorry."

"What… why are you sorry?"

"Because you already said you didn’t like me… remember? At the game. When I asked."

Theo remembers. He remembers Liam had spotted him in the bleachers during halftime and rushed over, right before someone shouted at them from the field. Liam had responded equally loudly and with just as much of a teasing tone, "Are you kidding? I don’t like Theo. We’re friends, dick!"

Then Liam turned back to him, "But you like me, don’t you?" with that teasing glint in his eyes, and Theo had scoffed. He’d said, "Don’t kid yourself, Dunbar. There are plenty of dudes I like. But you are definitely not one of them."

Liam had laughed, and it sounded close enough to his usual laugh that Theo didn’t mind it, because he’d lied through his teeth to the guy he was crushing on and he felt like the least he could do in that moment was enjoy the sound of his laughter.

He continued despite himself. "Glad you asked, though. Wouldn’t want you heartbroken when I finally get Corey to take me seriously."

"Oh, you’re into Corey now?"

"He’s cute. And we’re literally roommates. He’s bound to crack."

"Yeah, guess so. You’re right, then. Good thing I don’t like you."

Theo had tasted bile in his throat.

Corey had called him an idiot.

"You said you didn’t like me."

Liam’s head retracts and he narrows blue eyes, "What?"

"The reason I said I didn’t like you was because you said you didn’t like me."

"But I said I didn’t like you because you were literally in love with someone else."

"What?"

"Corey?"

"But I said that after you said—"

Liam lets out a frustrated noise and closes his eyes, "Look!"

Theo holds his breath.

"I like you, all right? Always have. I like you."

"You like me…"

Liam opens his eyes and his lips curl the tiniest bit, "I like you, Theo."

"I… I like you, too."

Liam’s smile has always been his undoing. It’s the reason he showed up to this party anyway. So when it falls Theo’s stomach sinks.

"What about Corey?" He asks, and Theo feels like an idiot.

"Never liked him. And I’m pretty sure he’s in love with your best friend, plaid… shirt." He finishes, ashamed he let it slip that he’s refused to learn the guy’s name.

But Liam isn’t fazed, his eyes light up, "What? He likes Mase? I gotta tell him!"

He spins and is about to step away when Theo stops him with a hand to his sleeve. "Wait! Liam, wait." They face each other and Theo leans in, close enough to bump noses, to share breaths. "Can I…?"

Liam closes the gap and kisses him. Theo’s heart leaps to his throat again, his skin feels hot and thin and raw. His head feels light as fuck. Like Liam’s kissing all sense out of him.

"Ha…" he whispers as they both try to catch their breath, "you’re good at that."

"Am I?" Theo croaks, eyes still closed.

"We should do it again."

They stay outside for at least fifteen minutes before Liam’s phone is buzzing in his pocket and it’s Mason— Theo knows now, will commit it to memory— saying Liam should get a ride home from Theo, that he and Corey are heading out to some other party.

It’s a blessing, for once, that comes with words that hold power, combating twenty-three years of nothing but curses. This blessing: Liam and his hands and his smile and his heart.

[dudeandduchess]

Yakuza!Kyōjurō x F!S/O: Sugar and Spice (Mafia!AU, Modern AU, NSFW Series)[Chapter 2]

Summary: Kyōjurō and (Y/n) meet at a party, only to find out that their lives would change forever— since they had been arranged to be married. To make matters even more difficult for them, they were from two different walks of life, with (Y/n) being the Prime Minister’s daughter, and Kyōjurō being the heir to his clan’s Yakuza group.

Warnings: Smut, Kabedon, Groping, Making Out, Marking

Chapter 1| Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5

***

No matter how much (Y/n) tried to shake the memory of those piercing eyes from her mind, she never could forget just how hauntingly beautiful they were— especially when they were trained so hard on her the night before.

It was why she had made a hasty escape; tucking tail and practically shoving her champagne glass at a waiter, before making up some halfhearted excuse about forgetting a prior engagement.

She could tell that the ladies she had been with were skeptic of her reasons, but had still let her go; just in time, as well, because Kyōjurō would have gotten to her if they had tried to keep her any longer.

Still, hours after that ordeal— even while she laid on her bed— with the warm, morning rays of the sun shining down on her through her windows, she could still feel the less-than-proper intent behind them. They were the eyes of a predator; someone who was silently telling her that he was going to devour her.

And if she were being honest, it scared and thrilled her at the same time.

“Hopefully, I’ll never have to see him again,” The young woman whispered to herself, right before closing her eyes and stretching her limbs outwards; it felt so good on her tired muscles. But her peaceful time alone was cut short with a soft but firm knock on her door.

“Good morning, (Y/n)-sama.” She almost groaned aloud at the sound of her temporary secretary’s voice; wishing to all hell that she were back in her university dorm— protected by a bodyguard, but still living with relative privacy.

But, unfortunately, it was summer break and she was obligated to stay at the Prime Minister’s residence; much like how her brothers were also required to live there when they weren’t living at their dorms. And, being the youngest— as well as the only girl— out of three children, her father was much stricter on her.

(Y/n) sighed then, deciding not to stall any longer and calling out a flat ‘come in’. It was then followed by the quiet creaking of the door, as well as the soft footsteps coming towards her bed.

As much as the young woman still wanted to just go back to sleep, she decided not to be difficult and opened her eyes— only for them to fall on Rin. She was a frail woman in her mid-thirties, looking very strict with her neatly pressed uniform; but it was her severely tight bun that had (Y/n) and her siblings knowing that the woman meant business at first glance.

“Good morning, Rin-san, may I know my schedule for today?” (Y/n) asked with a forced smile, knowing full well that she had a full roster for that day— what with her mother forking over some small charity appearances over to her and her brothers; all to show the people that they were very much active in society, despite also being busy with their own passion projects.

Rin nodded at that, before referring down to her clipboard and flipping a page— which had (Y/n)’s eyebrows quirking, since she saw so many things highlighted on one of her brothers’ schedule sheets.

“Your schedule has been cleared today, (Y/n)-sama.” That explained why she saw all those neon yellow lines on the pages before hers, but that had her stomach tightening with apprehension; because having a clear schedule at the last minute didn’t really bring good things.

“And why is that?”

“The Prime Minister has requested an audience with you for brunch, and he asked that you clear your schedule for the rest of the day to entertain his guest.”

Suddenly, she wanted to switch schedule with either one of her brothers. Hell, she would have rather been giving speeches and kissing babies, if it got her out of whatever clown show her father was about to put her through.

“Can I get out of this brunch?”

“No, Miss.”

“Alright, then. What time is this… fiasco? Nine-thirty? Ten? And do I already have something to wear for it?”

***

Who comes in late to meet the Prime Minister? The barbed thoughts reverberated around within (Y/n)’s head, as she presented a calm and collected façade for the world to see.

The dress she wore was modest enough for brunch, but with a touch of sexiness that had her quirking an eyebrow at the stern Rin when it had been handed to her earlier. Because, normally, Rin had her dressed up with the most modest of dresses; it would have been enough to put any miko to shame.

That already had her mind reeling with possibilities, yet she didn’t dare jump on any of them— since there were also numerous other things that could happen. Nothing was impossible, what with her being the daughter of Japan’s Prime Minister, after all.

For all she knew, she could be meeting the Prince of Wales with her father.

“Are we meeting Prince Charles, otou-sama? I didn’t brush up on my English last night,” She whispered to her father, who stifled his laughter and dabbed his table napkin to his lips— if only to muffle his humorous chuckles.

Yorihiko, (Y/n)’s father, turned to her then— before lowering his table napkin back down to his lap and showing her his bright grin. For someone who was in his mid-sixties, he still looked as youthful as ever. And, save for the crow’s feet at the corners of his eyes— as well as the greying hair atop his head— she would have gandered him as not a day over fifty. “Not the Prince of Wales, (Y/n)-chan, but someone who will be much more important to this family in the future.”

Maybe it was just her being a little chilly, but she felt shivers race down her spine at those ominous words. However, she couldn’t even collect herself before the butler announced that their long-awaited guest was finally there.

And she had to try really hard to pick her jaw up from the ground when she saw two heads of blond hair coming out into the garden. The one she knew as Rengoku Kyōjurō wore a crisp, black suit with a blood red tie— one that matched his eyes and hair very well; while the older man next to him wore a formal kimono with a sleek, black haori perched on his shoulders.

“The yakuza, otou-sama?” (Y/n) whisper-yelled at her father, who only gave her a nod before getting up from his seat— all while smoothly laying his table napkin on the table— so he could greet their guests.

She followed suit immediately, but she couldn’t help her unsteady legs as she walked around the table and gave the Rengokus a small bow. “Welcome to our home, dear guests.”

“Don’t be too stiff, daughter; call me otou-sama,” The older man spoke in a gruff tone, smirking all the while as he looked at (Y/n).

The young woman couldn’t even speak, but managed a small nod— right before turning to the man that she had been under just the night before. A chorus of “oh no”s kept playing inside her head, but she couldn’t even voice out her panic, nor her disapproval at whatever arrangement had been arranged between her and the Yakuza heir.

“How about we have our meal as we talk, Shinjurō? And then we can leave the kids to be acquainted?” Yorihiko suggested with a bright smile, all while motioning over to the table that he and (Y/n) had been sitting at earlier.

It already burned (Y/n) to even be in the same vicinity as the man who had been between her legs just the night before, but it burned her even more when he smirked right at her— before offering his arm to her; as if he was the perfect gentleman.

And with her being who she was, couldn’t even turn him down. So, she found herself slipping a hand into the crook of his arm; holding on to him as he walked her back to the table. To make matters even worse for her, he even pulled out her chair for her, before helping her sit down.

That action hadn’t been done for mere chivalry, however, as Kyōjurō took it as a chance to whisper right by her ear, “It’s nice to see you again, baby. You look really… fuckable in that dress.”

“Fuck you.” (Y/n) managed to whisper back, which earned a sexy little chuckle from the blond.

He wanted nothing more than to pull her by the hair and make her face him, just so he could kiss her breathless and show her that he wasn’t to be messed with, but they were in front of company, and he didn’t want to disrespect her like that in front of their fathers.

After all, he was going to be his wife. And he was always taught that Rengokus respected their wives above all else.

“You almost did, baby. Maybe on the honeymoon, though,” Kyōjurō whispered back with a grin, before finally pulling away and taking the empty seat right next to her— much to (Y/n)’s chagrin.

Lunch passed by in a blur for (Y/n), however; with conversation being led by the two patriarchs. She was nothing more than a spectator at the table, since she was still trying to wrap her head around what was happening.

And, from what she could catch, she and Kyōjurō really were arranged to be married. In this day and age, arranged marriages were such an archaic concept but, apparently, the Rengokus had a lot to do with her father getting the Prime Minister position— and he owed them a lot.

So, now that the Rengokus are being pinned with crimes that weren’t their doings— and with Shinjurō facing multiple life sentences if things aren’t resolved— they had to cash in that favor with (Y/n)’s father.

After all, what better way to clear someone’s name, than to get related through marriage to the very man who signs them? No other man’s vouch could be stronger that the Prime Minister’s; if he said that he trusted the Rengokus enough to have his only daughter marry into their family, then all those pending cases would be dismissed as nothing more than baseless accusations.

(Y/n) had always known that her father was involved with all kinds of people, but she had never even had an inkling that he had been rubbing elbows with the Yakuza— of all people.

***

Once brunch was over— with her food having been barely touched— the patriarchs left both (Y/n) and Kyōjurō in the garden to ‘get acquainted’. However, (Y/n) had much more different things in mind, so she got up from her seat and tossed her table napkin onto the table; all before making hasty escape back into the house.

Kyōjurō’s eyebrows quirked at his fiancée’s actions, but it didn’t dampen the smirk that tugged up at the corners of his lips; as he watched her hips swaying so seductively a few ways away from him.

Last night, he had been pissed to have seen her walking away from him— and that time was no different, but it posed an extremely exciting challenge that he was more than willing to take on.

So, that was how he found himself getting up from his own seat and following after her— but not before glaring right at the guards that had been about to keep him from following her.

That kept them right in their places, which was good enough for him— and had him resuming his leisurely stroll right behind his charismatic bride-to-be.

But she didn’t get to go much farther than the back door of the mansion; as Kyōjurō quickly took his chance to press her back against the wall— making sure to cushion the back of her head, as he caged her in with his right arm and his body.

“Don’t walk away from me, baby,” Kyōjurō stated with a smile; right before dipping his head down to brush his lips against hers in the faintest of kisses.

That move didn’t fail to make (Y/n)’s toes curls right in her heels, but she tried so hard to ignore the tingles that were shooting across her skin; even taking to looking at anywhere but at Kyōjurō.

All because the events from the night before were playing in her mind— hot, raunchy, and filled with so much lust for him.

But the blond wasn’t deterred by her reaction at all, coming to press his hips right against her— and making her feel the bulge that was slowly growing bigger beneath his pants.

“Come on, sweetheart. Kiss me like you did last night,” The young man teased once more, then dipped his head down to catch her lips once more‚ but in a much deeper kiss that, inevitably, had (Y/n) melting against him; especially when he lightly tugged at her hair, all while gently nipping at her bottom lip.

All the while, his right hand snaked itself down to cup her right hip; kneading it in a gentle massage, before slipping down further so he could cup her ass. He then gave it a squeeze, which had her gasping right into their kiss; giving him enough time to slip his tongue right between her lips, all so he could play with her own.

When Kyōjurō felt her responding to his kisses— much like how she was last night— he took that as his chance to tease her even further by pulling away; latching on to her neck and trailing kisses down to the crook where her neck met her shoulders— and biting down on the skin, before sucking on it to leave a love bite.

He wasn’t contented with just one, however, and found himself leaving more of his marks all over her neck as well. Every single one had her moaning softly and, somewhere along the way, one of her hands had made its way onto the back of his own head— where she was gripping his hair tightly.

She was really melting under his touch, and he loved it so much.

And things only made a turn for the better when he quickly bunched the back of her dress up with the hand that had been groping her ass, before slipping his hand down further so he could cup her pussy from behind; grinning when he felt her so wet beneath her underwear.

“You want me to fuck you?” He asked, all while rubbing the tips of his fingers against her soaked entrance; loving the way that her fingers kept tightening and loosening on his hair— especially the subtle way that she was trying to rub her pussy up against his cock.

(Y/n) was silent at first— refusing to give in and answer him— until the blond readjusted his hand and made quick work of slipping it up the front of her dress; right before pushing her panties aside and pinching her clit between his index and middle fingers. The move had her hips jerking involuntarily, and also had her moaning softly when Kyōjurō began to play with the little bud.

“…Please.”

“Please what, sweetheart?”

(Y/n) was just about to give in and actually beg him to fuck her right there— up against the side of her father’s residence— when all sense came crashing down on her and she yanked on Kyōjurō’s hair… hard. “Get off of me!”

It was clear on Kyōjurō’s face that that move had pissed him off, but he couldn’t help but obey (Y/n)’s words— albeit reluctantly. And he wanted to just scowl at her, but the sight of her looking so disheveled had him laughing; outright laughing, as he took in her messed up lipstick and crazy hair.

The glare that (Y/n) was aiming right at him looked mildly threatening, but it was the best she could do— especially when she heard the blond’s attractive laughter. How a laugh could be attractive, she didn’t know; it just was— and it was highly unfair, since he already had such a handsome face.

Even the fresh love bites all over her neck and shoulders added to her ‘just fucked’ look, diminishing the aggressiveness in her expression even more, and that pleased Kyōjurō so much.

He couldn’t wait until he really messed her up. He’d make sure that she wouldn’t even be able to get out of bed in the morning.

[winterscaptain]

long shot.

Aaron Hotchner x Gender Neutral Reader a joyful future fic - no context required

a/n: this is in response to this ask in kind of a loose way, and also fulfills kiss prompt #6 (on a falling tear). i sat down and wrote this all in one sitting this weekend and it makes me smile SO MUCH. tell me what you think! i hope you enjoy reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it :) this one takes place in au!december 2012

words: 2.3k warnings: alcohol use/mention, allusions to sex, language

summary: “i couldn’t have dreamed you into existence because i didn’t even know i needed you. you must have been sent to me.” - kamand kojouri

It’s a rare early night off in December and you all make the ill-advised choice to go to the bar closest to the base for some drinks and dancing, completely forgetting that academy graduation is tomorrow. 

There’s part of you that feels aged by the whole thing. Even newly-minted agents your own age look fresh-faced and about a decade younger than you feel. 

When you all walk in, there’s a bit of a hush, a lull, in the conversations around you. You find eyes on you from all directions and realize your faces are familiar ones, and in the case of Aaron and Dave, almost-famous ones. 

Aaron pulls you further into him, almost shielding you with his body as you navigate through the crowd that parts before you. It seems like an eternity before you find a table, but Derek, Aaron, and Spencer hold down the fort while the rest of you manage drinks. Strategic postings at either end of the bar is likely going to get you the best return, so you fan out accordingly. 

It’s unsurprising in the least when the bartenders make a beeline for you all, getting your orders down and drinks started over the shouts of NATs - many of them already blasted with three or four shots under their belt. 

While you wait, you can still feel a fair few pairs of eyes on you. You meet one pair, set in the face of a rather handsome new agent about your age. He smiles at you, and you shift your eyes away from him, your expression unmoving. 

He apparently takes that as invitation enough. Out of the corner of your eye, you spot him as he winds his way to your side. 

You meet Aaron’s eyes across the room, and there’s a smile in them. You offer the smallest twitch of your lips and a wink. Watch this. 

Oh, I’m watching, his eyebrows say. 

“Hi.” The young agent finally reaches your side and offers his hand. You take it. “Agent Mark Sullivan.” 

You smile thinly and introduce yourself. “So, I take it you’ve just received an assignment?”

He laughs, making an attempt at charm. “Alright. You’re a profiler,” he says with confidence. “What gave me away?” It’s a challenge.

It’s also a long shot. A really really long shot. 

There were plenty of people in the vicinity that would be reeled in by his warm smile and handsome jawline, but your fine man (currently sprawled back in his chair with an arm on the back of the chair and a hand over his mouth to cover his smile) stands head and shoulders above the rest, sometimes literally. 

“Well,” you start, making a show of eyeing him from head to toe, “Your papers are still in your pocket and you’ve left your ID tag on, against academy and bureau regulations.” 

He startles and snatches it off his lapel, tucking it into his pocket. 

With a little smile, you soothe his embarrassment - it’s a play only designed to endear yourself to him. “It tells me you’re proud, excited. I felt the same way when I received my assignment and credentials. It’s a significant accomplishment.”

You can’t quite tell in the irregular darkness in the room, but he looks almost like he’s blushing. “Thanks.” He collects himself after a moment, putting his bravado back on. 

Your eyes flicker to Hotch once, twice. He’s still watchful. Amused. 

“So, I was lucky enough to see your lectures with the BAU and I must say...it’s impressive.” 

He says that like it’s some kind of validation. 

I need validation from this clown like I need a hole in the head. 

“Thanks. I’m usually rather modest, but I think it’s alright to say the BAU is a very fine unit.” If you’re honest, you’re talking about one particular unit chief’s...um...unit, specifically, but that’s neither here nor there.

He smirks. “What would you say if I told you I got a placement on one of the BAU teams?”

You raise your eyebrows. “Really? That’s quite the accomplishment.” A pair of arms wind around you and a kiss is pressed to your temple. 

It would also be a lie.

You smile and flip in Aaron’s arms, completely ignoring poor Mark. “I was just getting you a drink,” you explain, gesturing vaguely to the bar behind you. 

“I see. Did you get me -”

“Double scotch, neat, aged at least fifteen years? Yes, sir.” 

He smiles. “You know me so well.” 

“I sure do.” You pull him down by his tie and plant a firm kiss on his lips and shove him off with a smile. “Go. Sit. I’ve got it.” 

You turn back to Mark with a breathless sort of laugh. Aaron always makes you feel a little flushed and you’re happy to play it up for the benefit of the moment. “Sorry about that.” 

Mark, you find, is reconsidering his strategy. His face, while still outwardly warm, harbors a kind of calculated look to it that would almost be funny if you weren’t so eager to see what kind of trick he’d pull next. “So, Hotchner?”

“What about him?”

Mark shrugs. “I dunno. Doesn’t he have a kid?”

You nod. “Yep.” 

“And he’s a widower, right?”

“Yes.” 

Mark laughs a little. “Wouldn’t it be kinda nice to, I dunno, have some fun for a little while?”

You frown at him, and your drink arrives at the hands of the frazzled bartender. You pull the fifty from your sleeve and pass it to him with a smile. After a sip, you ask. “What do you mean?”

“It seems like a lot to take on, you know?” He backpedals upon seeing your squint. “I mean, I’m sure he’s a great guy, but wouldn’t it be nice to have someone...I dunno -” He restores his confidence and leans on the bar. Again, his moves would probably work on someone else, but you were a lost cause. “- easier?”

Aaron’s scotch arrives. You pick it up in your free hand and shrug somewhat breezily. “Maybe.” 

You brush past him, leaving Mark a little confused and a bit stunned. When you return to the table after much jostling, you take a seat right on Aaron’s lap and pass him his drink, reclining in his arms. Scanning over the crowd, Mark’s frowning face sticks out like a sore thumb and you try not to look too smug. 

Other than Rossi, the rest of the team is already out on the dance floor, so you know Aaron doesn’t mind having you close. 

He sets his scotch down and wraps his arms around you kissing the underside of your jaw. You lean into his touch and smile. 

There’s nothing easier than this. 

+++

There’s something a bit sulky about Aaron when you settle next to him in bed. You squint at him, looking for his eyes as they follow the loose pattern on the bedspread. 

“Hey.” You bump his shoulder with yours. “What’s on your mind?” 

He shakes his head a little, still not meeting your eyes. “Nothing. Just thinking.” 

With a roll of your eyes, you throw the covers off and sling a leg over him, straddling his thighs. You tap your palms on his pecs on-beat with your begging. “Come on. Tell me tell me tell me tell -”

“Jesus, alright!” He cuts you off with two hands over yours, his thumbs running fondly over your knuckles. “I just…” He huffs, already a little frustrated with himself for feeling put out. 

You slide your hands out from underneath his, running up over his collarbones and shoulders to find the hair at the nape of his neck. 

“I couldn’t help but overhear…”

You let all your breath out in a huff. “Oh, Aaron. He’s a stupid NAT who knows the only way to come after you is to come after your history.” You kiss his cheek and tuck into him. “He was trying to be a big-dick boy and it didn’t pay off for him.” 

There’s a halfhearted laugh from underneath you, and his hands wander across your back. “He is right, though. It would be easi-”

“If you say ‘easier,’ Aaron Hotchner, I’m going to lose my shit.” 

He sighs, and you pull back, tipping his chin up with a finger. 

“Hey. I love Jack. He is not an added weight in my life. He does not make my life harder in any way. Your son,” you emphasize with taps on his lips, “is the light of my life and I wouldn’t ever want to be without him.” 

Aaron’s eyes get a little misty. For his sake, you ignore it and continue. 

“I never feel like a replacement for Haley. I’ve never once minded leaving room for her in our lives because she’s my friend and I love her and I love you. I loved you before we lost her and I’ve loved you long after. This baggage keeps my feet firmly planted on the ground.” 

Aaron takes a deep breath, and his voice has the smallest of wavers when he speaks. Before he even starts, you concede to let him share what he’s feeling, if only to rebut it. “But you could - you could have so much. You could have someone ten or fifteen years younger who - I don’t know - could do things with you that thirty-somethings do. You wouldn’t have to spend your weekends at soccer games or your evenings rubbing Icy Hot on my bad knee or dealing with me on rough pain days or raising your voice because I can’t hear shit on my right side.” 

He shakes his head, and you brush the tears that fall with your thumbs. “You could have - You deserve, so much more...” The rest of his words go unspoken, but you hear them anyway. 

You deserve so much more than me.

Your eyes sting and you blink rapidly, letting your tears wet your lashes. Leaning forward, you kiss away his remaining tears, shifting your weight to wrap your legs around his waist and get as close as you can. 

With your head on his left shoulder, you whisper, “Aaron, I don’t want someone ten or fifteen years younger. I don’t care what I’m doing on my evenings and weekends because I get to spend them with you.” 

You pause for a moment. “And, I don’t need boys. I’m done with boys.” 

You lean back, looking him square in the eye, or at least trying to. “I have a man who has silver in his hair because he worries and is in his mid-forties and it doesn’t fucking matter. I have a man who is the subject of so many crushes and fantasies at the academy it makes me want to vomit.” You laugh a little at your own joke, but he’s still focused on the seam of your shirt at your collar. Changing gears, you bring your hands to the sides of his neck, feeling his pulse jump under your thumbs.

“I have no need for boys because I have a man who treats me with kindness and respect. A man who is thoughtful, who isn’t afraid of himself. A man who knows himself, who loves his son, who invited me into his life when he didn’t have to because he’s brave.”

A couple more tears fall down your cheeks and you frame his face with your hands. “You love better and more courageously than anyone I have ever known.” 

You sniffle a little. “Aaron, honey...I love you. I wouldn’t want anything else, or anyone else, for my life, to be my partner, my best friend, the person I love. Odds have it that you’ll be my husband and the father of any other kids we might acquire and that we’ll grow even older and grayer together.” 

You let a little facetious smirk cross your lips. “And I’d like you to look at me and tell me I’d be happy with some dickhead named Mark with a business degree who wears shoes well-outside his pay grade.” 

That does it. 

Aaron smiles and pulls you to him with a hand at the back of your head. Your lips meet and you can taste the saltwater, but it doesn’t matter. 

He pulls back to look at you, and he really looks at you. His eyes roam hungrily over your face as if trying to memorize every line and curve and lash and budding wrinkle he finds there. 

You simply melt in the dark brown of his eyes, watching him take his time. 

Even then, as you expected, there is some doubt - not in you, of course, but in him. “Really?”

“Really.” You hold up your fist between your faces, pinky extended. “Pinky promise.” 

He smiles a little and links your pinkies together, twisting your hands to kiss your knuckles. Your hands drop into your lap and another little smile crosses your face. 

“What?” He asks.

You shrug. “I’m also thinking about how thirty-something-year-old boys absolutely suck in bed. I can pretty much guarantee that you’re better at - well, just about everything.” 

He closes his eyes and smiles, looking the picture of a happy house cat in the sun. You draw closer, running your nose along his. He leans toward you and captures your lips again. 

The next few hours? Don’t worry. They’re spent proving your point.  

+++

tagging: @arganfics @quillvine @stxrryspencer @agenthotchner @hurricanejjareau @ughitsbaby @rousethemouse @criminalsmarts @shrimpyblog @genevievedarcygranger @ssaic-jareau @good-heavens-chris-evans @davidrossi-ismydad @angelsbabey @writefasttalkevenfaster @venusbarnes @hotchsflower @ogmilkis @marvels-agents100 @hotchslatte @risenfox @mrs-dr-reid @captain-christopher-pike @dwellingsofrosie @pan-pride-12 @sunshine-em @word-scribbless @jdougl-love @sageellsworth05 @dreila03 @forgottenword @aaronhotchnerr @ssa-morgan @buckybau @sana-li @tegggeeee @abschaffer2 @ssacandice-ray @ellyhotchner @lotties-journey-abroad @mrs-joel-pimentel-23-25 @laneygthememequeen @violentvulgarvolatile  @mooneylupinblack @ssareidbby @violet-amxthyst @bwbatta @roses-and-grasses @lcvischmitt @capricorngf @missdowntonabbey @averyhotchner @mandylove1000 @cevanswhre @qvid-pro-qvo @jeor @spencers-hoodrat @infinity1321 @zizzlekwum @popped-weasels @evee87 @nuvoleincielo @this-broken-band-girl @reidtomestyles @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @winqhster @spencerelds @the-falling-in-the-danger @nattylite49 @crazyshannonigans @softbibxtch @iconicc @mangoberry43 @andreasworlsboring101 @kerrswriting @mac99martin @itsalwaysb33nyou

[cheri-translates]

[CN] Shaw’s S2 R&S - A Gentleman’s Promise

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers from an R&S (君子一诺) which has not been released in EN! 🍒

Features S2 Shaw

In terms of sequencing, this is Shaw’s fourth S2 R&S!

[ Chapter One ]

The first time Teacher Zeng met Shaw was three or four years ago.

Back then, he was just a little over thirty, and was still at an age of surging vigour. Based on the results of his online searches, Teacher Zeng carried a bag, bringing along some tools, and came to this mine shaft alone.

Lifting a torchlight with a weak light, he carefully observed the surroundings, trying to search for the stone tablet with the symbol “8″. Despite walking quite far in, he had not been able to glean anything. It was most likely another instance of “mistaken information”.

But he had to admit - this mine shaft was built too loosely. As a graduate in archaeological studies with practical experience, Teacher Zeng guessed that there was sandy soil underneath. For safety reasons, he decided to leave this place first.

That was when the accident suddenly happened.

Teacher Zeng happened to walk into an exceptionally narrow space. Perhaps the mine shaft was too dark and there wasn’t any space for his feet. Just as he planned to turn around, Teacher Zeng felt the ground beneath his feet soften. Knowing that he had unfortunately stepped onto soil which was too loose, Teacher Zeng reacted quickly, attempting to lunge forward. However, the sinking sandy soil was even faster than his thoughts. He was about to fall -

Before he faced imminent peril, he felt an external force grabbing him suddenly!

In the next second, the sandy soil filled the air, collapsing from above. How could a person’s strength withstand the speed of the collapsing soil? Almost immediately, Teacher Zeng attempted to free himself from the other party’s grip, not wanting to become another person’s liability.

As though sensing Teacher Zeng’s intentions, the other party shouted in a muffled voice, “Hey, grab tight!”

All of a sudden, lightning as bright as daytime appeared out of thin air. In the next second, a loud crackling sound of electrical currents seemed to gather into a ball. Along with a few "boom” sounds, the sandy soil and the wall of the mine were instantly exploded open by lightning.

Taking in light and air once again, Teacher Zeng was still badly shaken up. He subconsciously looked at his “saviour”, who appeared to be a young man of around eighteen or nineteen years of age. His head of bluish purple hair was very striking despite the sand and soil that had fallen on it. And in his palm, there seemed to be some electrical currents releasing buzzing sounds.

Even though he’s an ordinary person, Teacher Zeng had seen enough over the years to guess that this young person was likely an Evolver with an ability related to thunder and lightning.

While a sizeable number of ordinary people had issues against Evolvers, Mr Zeng naturally felt very grateful that his life was saved. He panted loudly, thanking him repeatedly. “Little Bro, I’m truly grateful to you.”

“That’s enough. It wasn’t as exaggerated as you said.”

“But you should consider yourself lucky. Leaving someone in danger isn't my style.” The young man arched his brows while speaking, his tone sounding very flamboyant. He looked Teacher Zeng up and down, his gaze sweeping past his weak handheld torchlight and shovel. While brushing his hair lightly, he casually asked, “You brought quite a number of tools. What are you doing here?”

At the same time, Teacher Zeng also noticed the other party’s protective equipment used in archaeology.

That mine shaft was definitely not a normal site for exploration. But according to Teacher Zeng’s knowledge, there were quite a number of people like him who were searching for the “historical ruins” represented by that special stone tablet. He might have the same goal.

Probably because the earlier rescue left a favourable impression on Teacher Zeng, he deliberated for a moment before testing the waters. “I heard there might be an unusual stone tablet in the vicinity. I came to have a look since I was curious. What about you?”

Hearing this, the man’s brows arched high. He patted the sandy soil off his body, standing up in an agile manner. Only then did Teacher Zeng notice that he was really tall.

Carrying a black bag, his lips hooked into a smile. “It’s good to be curious. Looks like we’re kindred spirits.”

Watching the man’s back as he left with large strides, Teacher Zeng couldn’t help but surmise where exactly he came from, and how he dared to take action alone at such a young age. However, when he thought about the other party’s skills, Teacher Zeng tossed aside the thoughts in his head: He should be concerned about himself first.

With this thought in mind, Teacher Zheng opened the notebook he brought along with him. Out of habit, he hastily made a brief record before preparing to leave.

It’s a pity that this was yet another futile exploration.

-

[ Chapter Two ]

The next time he met Shaw, several years had gone by.

A few years isn’t exactly long, but it was enough to gradually morph Teacher Zeng’s perseverance in the face of returning empty-handed again and again, into a state of giving up on exploration and finding historical ruins.

That morning, Teacher Zeng reached his work department: the Ancient Literature Society of Loveland City. After conducting the routine selection of a theme, he suddenly received a call from the front counter, telling him that someone was looking for him.

Right after stepping out of the elevator, he instantly noticed the especially striking head of bluish purple hair next to the pillar. Teacher Zeng subconsciously furrowed his brows, feeling as though he had seen such a conspicuous hair colour somewhere. Just then, the other party turned his face leisurely, meeting Teacher Zeng’s line of sight.

The young man narrowed his eyes slightly, giving him a contemplative glance from top to bottom, and an almost indiscernible interest appeared in his eyes. On the other hand, Teacher Zeng remained stunned in place, the memories from relatively far away stirring in his mind.

“You’re that...”

Before Teacher Zeng finished speaking, the young man arched his left slit eyebrow. “...it’s really you.” He swept a glance at the surroundings. “This place isn't convenient. Let’s chat somewhere else?”

The desolate flower nursery at a corner.

“The last time we met was an accident, and we didn't get to introduce ourselves.” The 10am sunlight filtered downwards through the clouds, providing a contrast to the glistening colours in the young man’s eyes. “I’m Shaw. The reason why I looked for you today...” 

“The reason why you looked for me today couldn’t be because of what happened a few years ago, right?”

Not expecting Teacher Zeng to be so direct, the corners of Shaw’s lips curled upwards. “Since you’ve already asked, I’ll get straight to the point.” While speaking, he retrieved a slightly yellowed old photograph, holding it before Teacher Zeng.

Once he saw the photo, Teacher Zeng lifted his head in surprise. “Why do you have this photograph?”

There were two people in this old photograph. One of them was an obviously younger version of Teacher Zeng, and the other was, astonishingly, Shaw’s mentor.

[Note] Shaw’s mentor is introduced in his 2020 birthday R&S!

Shaw raised the old photograph. “That old man standing next to you left this to me, and said I could look for a helper based on this photo if I ever needed it. I found it a while ago, and realised the person the old man let me look for was actually a ‘familiar person’.”

Teacher Zeng was stunned. So he’s...

Even though Shaw didn’t make it clear, Teacher Zeng already had an answer in his heart.

Shaw rolled his shoulders casually, then continued. “The old man said that you’re really skilful when it comes to online searches and exploration.”

“I’m not that good, maybe just a little faster in searching than ordinary people.” Suddenly hearing Shaw bringing up his mentor, nostalgia flashed across Teacher Zeng’s eyes. “Come to think of it, I just graduated back then, and many things were based on trial and error. Being guided by your mentor for a while was truly a huge fortune.”

“That old man...” Shaw couldn’t help but laugh, but he quickly returned to the earlier topic. “You should also know that we aren’t the only ones searching for the ruins.”

“The speed of one person is limited, so I’m looking for a ‘helper’. How is it? Are you interested in working together?”

After Shaw finished saying this, Teacher Zeng unexpectedly hesitated, growing quiet.

Along with Teacher Zeng’s silence, Shaw slowly retracted the smile in his eyes.

“Actually, in recent years, I haven’t continued in this matter...” A wave of perplexity appeared in Teacher Zeng’s eyes. “I’ve been disappointed too many times over the years. So many times that I’ve gradually lost my motivation despite being unwilling to.”

Shaw’s tone was very calm. “Anticipating failure is something archaeologists should have gotten used to since a long time ago.”

“You might say that, but what exactly is this so-called “ruins”? Whether or not it truly exists - even this answer is a blank space-”

“It doesn’t count as a blank space.” Shaw interrupted him. “Whether they are those picture scrolls kept by the old man, or the notes he left behind, all the records and markings are traces of the real existence of the ruins. As long as they’re around, it’s worth exploring.”

“The instincts of an archaeologist tells me that the secret hidden within it is definitely related to a certain mysterious civilisation. And we might just be missing that final push.”

Teacher Zeng was left in a daze, and he didn’t speak.

Hearing Shaw bringing up his mentor’s picture scrolls and notes, Teacher Zeng’s own notebook, which already had hairy edges, suddenly flashed in his eyes. Actually, there were many times when he wanted to store the notebook in the bottom of his box. But until now, the notebook remained at the top of his drawer even though he couldn't fathom why.

"Although there are times when I dislike how the old man goes on a wild goose chase,” Despite how Shaw said “dislike”, a small smile appeared in his eyes, “But he said something which was correct. As long as you persevere, there will come a day when the secrets within will be revealed. So, as long as there’s a shred of hope, it doesn’t count as a disappointment.”

After saying this, Shaw kept the photograph, then shrugged when he saw how Teacher Zheng remained stunned in place. “But people who are as stubborn as the old man are truly a rarity of rarities. If it’s too difficult, forget it. I’ve never forced anyone into doing anything.”

“All right, that’s all. I’m off.”

“Wait!”

Teacher Zeng called out to Shaw without realising it. His mouth hung open. For a moment, he had no idea what he wanted to say.

A person’s subconsciousness is always the most honest. It turned out that he had never completely let go of searching for the historical ruins. And what he needed was perhaps a person to give him another push.

With this thought in mind, Teacher Zeng met Shaw’s bright eyes. “If you really need it... I could try helping you out once or twice.”

-

[ Chapter Three ]

After agreeing to Shaw, Teacher Zheng spent the following week using codes and calculations to search almost every corner of the panoramic maps on the internet. He meticulously searched for new locations of the historical ruins, not expecting the progress to go even more smoothly than expected.

“With such speed, you truly live up to your reputation.”

Teacher Zeng sent the location to Shaw. “I’ve found two likely positions. One of them is this abandoned factory building which seems more plausible.” Shaw stared at it fixedly for a few seconds, then curled a corner of his mouth and said, “Okay, got it.”

Next to the railing on the roof, sunlight seemed to be even brighter than usual. Magnificent solar flares leapt in between Shaw’s bluish purple hair. He straightened up, his confident expression even more dazzling to the eyes than the sunlight in between his hair. Shaw kept his phone away. “Since I don't have anything on tomorrow, I might as well take a look first.”

Hearing Shaw saying this so lightly, Teacher Zeng instinctively wanted to give him a cautionary warning. However, since it was only their third meeting, he didn’t really know how to phrase it. 

Tidying the hair on his temples which were blown messy by the breeze, Teacher Zeng finally spoke. “I might be overthinking it, but I feel as though it’s been going too smoothly. In the past, I’ve always had to exert double the time to find hazy markings and traces. In short, be more careful tomorrow.”

Shaw arched his brows. “Got it.” Shaw lowered his head to check the time, then waved his hand. “I have class in the afternoon, so I’m heading off.”

-

That evening, Teacher Zeng slept without a peace of mind, and he woke up just as the sky started to brighten. Rubbing his bleary eyes, he subconsciously tapped open the address that he had discovered earlier, but realised that the markings he saw earlier had vanished!

Were the markings he saw earlier false information by someone on the internet?

Teacher Zeng was startled awake completely. After checking for the third time, he immediately contacted Shaw, but realised that he couldn’t get through no matter what. Feeling anxious, Teacher Zeng rushed to the abandoned building with his quickest speed. 

The moment he entered, he saw countless rusty iron sheets and iron pipes. He keenly detected a strange atmosphere: this place was abnormally quiet.

Just as this thought flashed in his mind, a deafening sound drifted from the building in the next second. Thinking of how he had not contacted Shaw yet, Teacher Zeng trembled with fear, sticking himself against the wall of the staircase, and running up quickly.

-

[ Chapter Four ]

“BOOM-!”

While Teacher Zeng was rushing up, Shaw was facing an unknown attack.

The attacker was hiding in a dark place, and was probably an Evolver who could control metal. The iron pipes in the surroundings were pulled mid-air in an astonishing angle, sent smashing in Shaw’s direction. The air was very quickly mixed with the muffled echos of metal.

Shaw’s eyes keenly swept towards the dark area. As though accurately predicting the other party’s thoughts, he unfurled his palm in contempt, sending crackling lightning towards the iron pipes which are not too far away. With a muffled thud, the attacker was struck down.

Perhaps the consecutive failures had left the attacker in a complete frenzy. In the next second, a loud sound of metal exploded in the air.

But Shaw’s reaction was even faster.

His fingertips instantly crackled with electricity. With a flick of his wrist and a stretch of his arm, along with a frigidly cold “hmph”, the loud sound of electrical currents followed the expanse of metal pipes, striking the attacker like a sharp blade.

Most likely sustaining heavy damage, the attacker no longer cared about anything else, fleeing by jumping from the window in a flurry.

In a single breath, Teacher Zeng ran to the roof of the building, but only made it in time to see the moment a hazy figure leapt out of the window.

Shaw furrowed his brows, lifting his hand in distaste as he wiped the rust off his face. “Tch, I actually let him get away.” He turned his head and saw Teacher Zeng who had suddenly appeared, then pursed his lips. “What are you doing here?”

Teacher Zeng explained softly. “I just found out that this could be a trap, but I couldn’t contact you, so I rushed here without thinking too much... it’s a good thing you’re skilled.”

Shaw casually tidied his drooping fringe, revealing his eyebrows, which were arched high. After all, they were “co-workers”. Hearing these words blurted out by Teacher Zeng, the initially sharp expression in Shaw’s eyes turned indiscernibly gentler.

While heading down with Shaw, Teacher Zeng released a sigh, then laughed bitterly. “It’s been so many years. From what I know, due to the lack of progress, people who were searching for the historical ruins like me, you, and your mentor, gave up in succession. I just never thought that aside from there being no progress, it actually became even more dangerous...”

“That’s enough. This matter had nothing to do with you. Searching for the ruins isn’t dangerous.” Hearing Teacher Zeng’s self-abasement and guilt, Shaw interrupted him. “In the process of searching, I accidentally made a few enemies. The one from today was probably just targeting me.”

While speaking, they walked out of the abandoned building.

Despite going through this shocking wrestle, it was only daybreak. The rosy dawn served as a foil to the rising sun, elegantly travelling thousands of miles in the sky, the rose red rays of light spilling across the overgrown land, spilling into Shaw’s serious eyes which refused to concede defeat.

“When it comes to things worth persisting in and challenging, I’ve long since mentally prepared myself for protracted warfare.”

Shaw’s lips hooked upwards, an earnest spirit leaping in his eyes. “They will definitely lose.”

Seeing the stubbornness and seriousness hidden in the depths of Shaw’s eyes, Teacher Zeng’s heart suddenly received a jolt.

At first glance, the young man in front of him looked youthful and flamboyant. But his tenacity and dedication far surpassed the imagination of most people, and made Teacher Zeng re-discover the surging emotions he once had in his earlier years.

He’s akin to a giant creature hiding in the deep sea. Once he bit onto a goal, he would never let go.

For some reason, Teacher Zeng found this emotion rather familiar. It’s as though time had flowed backwards to several years ago. Back then, under the guidance and assistance from Shaw’s mentor, he had once seen a similar expression and tone of voice in the other party.

When the faraway memories surged up, Teacher Zeng stopped breathing. What accompanied this was that smiling face reminiscent of a mischievous child, the web pages he found after days and nights of searching, and all the locations he had once explored without a regard for the results...

Emotions he had not felt for a long time suddenly surged in Teacher Zeng’s heart.

-

[ Chapter Five ]

The weather today is very humid, and there doesn’t seem to be a single gust of wind.

After lunch, Teacher Zeng heads to the grocery store to buy a box of cigarettes. Then, he makes his way to the small flower nursery at the corner. Just as he breathes a few mouthfuls of smoke, the sound of footsteps suddenly drifts from behind him.

Teacher Zeng bites on the cigarette bud and turns around: it’s Shaw.

“Good afternoon.” Shaw has a hand stuffed into his pocket, elongating his words teasingly. “Since you’re smoking to entertain yourself, looks like Teacher Zeng has been pretty bored lately.”

Teacher Zeng chuckles softly. “Why are you here today?”

Shaw purses his mouth. “This might sound baffling. This morning, someone dressed in black suddenly attacked my antique store, wanting to search for some leads...”

Teacher Zeng ponders on this.

Slightly irritated, Shaw kicks a pebble at his feet. “It isn’t that easy to defeat me. We have to find the starting point for the ruins first.”

He lifts his eyes and looks at Teacher Zeng, arching his brows. “If I remember correctly, you mentioned being able to help “once or twice” that day. I’m now asking for that second round of assistance.”

Ever since they parted ways the previous time, Teacher Zeng had been giving it much thought. Perhaps Shaw’s persistence moved him, or Shaw’s mentor made him feel sentimental for the past. Regardless, a certain thought in the depths of his heart is especially clear: Actually, he had never let go of searching for the historical ruins. Since that’s the case, he might as well be involved in it entirely, and it wouldn’t put the years of accumulated knowledge to waste. 

Teacher Zeng has a small smile as he speaks leisurely. “Helping out is definitely not a problem. I’ve already been searching for new leads over the past duration. But I’d like to change the conditions.”

Shaw shoots him in glance with deep interest.

Extinguishing the cigarette bud beneath his foot, Teacher Zeng turns his head and says, “If you face more problems, it’d no longer be ‘once or twice’. We’ll work together formally. Can you accept this condition?

Finally, the clouds on the horizon seem to be dispersed by the wind slightly, revealing rays of light.

Shaw arches his brows. “Deal.”

🦈 More S2 content: here

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[babytortie]

baby birds

baby birds. ❘ stanley uris x reader.

summary: in which stanley finally breaks and distances himself from the loser’s group. the reader finds him alone and helps him cope to feel better.

warning: lots of fluff. <3

contains: slight mentioning of insecurities.

* all characters ( including reader ) of the loser's club are 15 years old in this one-shot.

~ 2.4k words.

it's been a couple of days since stanley showed up at the loser's clubhouse and the group was getting anxious. the curly haired teen always showed up after school when the group wanted to hang out. recently, he's made excuses for the past three times they've all hung out though.

"where's stan the man at?" mike broke the silence, uncrossing his legs and getting up from the couch to sit by bill instead. previously, he had been sitting with y/n and beverly. somehow but not before banging it around a few times and ben having to fix the walls, they managed to get the couch inside one weekend.

it was a hand-me down from the denbrough's garage. only deemed safe and clean after eddie tore it apart. the cushions and pillows were shampooed, as well as, a finishing touch of spray downs with two cans of lysol.

"maybe ed's mom is cheating on me and he's with her right now?" richie snickered, glancing up at the others from the hammock to see all of them unamused and letting out groans.

in his hand was the newest comic and for the past couple of minutes he'd been browsing through it. although, the tozier teen was not completely paying attention since he was mesmerized with eddie's face. the sunlight peeked through the wooden cracks and all of the asthmatic boy's freckles dusted perfectly along his skin.

the shorter boy was talking with bill who sat a few feet away from them and overheard the lanky boy's comment through mid-conversation. in return, he leaned over from the other side of the hammock and smacked richie's arm. "don't call me eds! how many times do i have to tell you that? also, i already have a nick name and it's eddie."

he swatted eddie's arm away and of course dramatically rubbed his arm a few times. with another occasional adjustment made to his coke-bottle glasses, richie pouted and put his arms up in exaggeration. "oh right sorry about that eddie spaghetti. but i don't know then. y/n?" he asked, automatically assuming you had answers about the curly haired teenager’s whereabouts.

beverly was in the middle of braiding y/n's hair and rolled her eyes. she let go of your strands and quickly smoothed them out. this was making you able to turn face-forward instead of the current side-ways position on the couch that you now only shared with her.

before reacting to the richie's remark, you gave beverly a sympathetic smile. an awfully long minute went by before you finally acknowledged tozier. he was still cackling though and everyone, including you, could tell it was full of nervousness.

"seriously, richie? i've talked to stanley just as much as the rest of you the last couple of days." you stated with a glare then shrugged before leaning back against the couch cushions.

"y-yeah, just bec-cause y/n and stan a-are love b-birds doesn't m-mean they keep tab-bs on each other all t-the time. ri-ight guys?" bill smirked.

beverly immediately put a hand over her mouth to contain the giggles threatening to spill out. she risked her luck and turned to gaze in your direction but you were already taking note of this with an eyebrow raised.

"are you alright there, beverly?" ben asked out of concern. because of her skin complexion, her face was easily able to turn bright red. he hasn't been paying much attention to the conversation with being zoned out into another good story. hanscom's face had been happily stuffed into an interesting book from the library.

"i'm sorry! sorry, it's just stanley and birds. good one bill!" she stumbled over her words from laughter. after a moment of hearing beverly and richie snickering together, like they were high, the others couldn't help but start hollering and whistling too.

"yep, laugh it up. glad to be of service for the jokes of today." shouting playfully which only caused a channeling of an inner-richie. you grabbed the couch arm for balance and stood up. they watched as you bowed twice then sat back down like the tozier teen would have been doing if he were the one in this situation.

the group would always tease you and stan. this causing the both of you to always blush in result and look anywhere in the room but each other while full of embarrassment.

the crazy thing was that what they said was true. neither of you wanted to admit first though and it was just another daily topic for the group. the other six members wished one of you would just open up and discuss the feelings you two bottled inside. no use still and after months of teasing, you nor stanley backed down yet.

"does anybody know where he'd be at right now?" mike paused to take a glimpse at his watch then added, "at four-thirty? he wouldn't go home so soon yet with his dad being off today."

the group was silent, none knew and the fact you and stan had a secret spot was not common shared information either. you contemplated for a moment before thinking what the hell? and just spoke up with a reply before you could take it back. "yeah, in fact i do. i'll see you guys later."

to avoid their stares, you didn't dare catching their reactions. instead taking that time to lean over the side of the couch and grab your backpack from school, lazily putting the straps around your shoulders.

"see, what'd i tell you?" richie smirked, leaning over in the hammock towards bill for a high five who did not return it but had a grin of his own. ben placed a bookmark into the open pages to mark the spot he left off on. after this, he gave beverly a look. this expression was one similar eddie was giving to mike.

"see you later guys!" you bid farewell once more and climbed the clubhouse stairs to venture off. you stifled a chuckle as you started to walk away, hearing them all burst out mixed comments of confusion and excitement.

about thirty minutes of walking later, you reached the woods surrounding the quarry. there was a ridge in the rocks off to the side which lead to a path. one wouldn't notice it from afar without really inspecting the vicinity.

it was about half a mile and stan was usually there with a towel laid out and his back against one of the trees. a perfect crease-free bird book splayed out on top of his lap and a pair of binoculars in the teen's hands.

recently if stanley were home he'd be in his room. with a lock on his door, he laid while reading books front to back and cover to cover. which was probably what he did last night except, the perfectionist took his sweet ol' time. this was to memorize every picture of the birds and the facts about them that was printed across the crisp pages.

before doing anything, you adjusted the long sleeves of the black and white flannel tied around your waist. your chucks nervously toed in the dirt gravel and you let out a deep breath you hadn't realized you were holding. curiously studying stan after that and noticing your prediction wasn’t far off. it was actually almost spot on except the book was nowhere to be found.

"this seat taken?" you asked, pointing towards the empty spot on the towel next to him. the uris teen jumped a bit, probably zoned out on a bird that was perched on the branch a few trees away from where you and stan were.

he looked over to you, a smile gracing his face. "it is now." uris was never bothered by the fact you often crashed the private bird-watching hobby of his. you knew he enjoyed quiet time in complete silence besides the occasional birds chirping. this was how it was found out that you had taken a liking to often just sitting and relaxing with your favorite person.

you started to move quickly by placing your backpack down before either of you could change his mind. with your hands placed on the back of your tied flannel, you crouched down before finding a comfortable position to sit in. then reaching into the bag, you retrieved the water bottle to take a sip.

after putting it back away, you sneaked a peek at him and saw that he was already watching you. your face flushed and you quickly faced away. not wanting to make a big deal of it, you started a conversation instead.

"you ready to talk yet?" you questioned, not wanting to push him but had already gave him a few minutes to gather his thoughts. he was an over-thinker. you knew him so well that almost all of the time, you could practically see the wheels turning in his head.

he watched the bird in the binoculars once more. admiring the red and orange colorful feathers before setting it down on the other side of him. letting out a loud sigh, he pondered. "i don't know y/n. am i a disappointment to you?"

stan? stanley uris? you opened your mouth and closed it again quite speechless with disbelief. disappointment? why would the person who you think is the definition of perfect think that he is a disappointment?"

“no way bubs! never." you stated in the most serious tone you've ever used to reassure him. looking into his brown eyes you noticed a few golden flecks that always caught in the sunlight. stan was a beautiful person inside and out but y/n hoped that he knew that.

"are you sure?" he asked, sheepishly and glanced down at his hands. if stanley couldn’t look you directly into the eyes, there was definitely something wrong. you took this as a chance to open up some feelings of your own and grabbed his left hand with your right, interlocking the fingers.

his breath hitched at the sight and he observed your hands together. a pair that fit perfectly and he felt his heart skip a beat at the thought. being as you were still confused, he took this as an appropriate moment to peer up at your face but he caught your eye again instead.

stan felt tears forming in the back of his eyes. figuring he should just tell you sooner or later, he let you know. "uh, so ever since the bar mitzvah, my dad and i have been distant. i just feel like i’m his disgraced son and a failure all the time."

he half-whispered the whole thing. inside he was feeling so ashamed that he told you this with such a sad tone full of dejection. this was shocking, making you completely quiet for a few moments to process the explanation. the tears had won, prickling and slowly starting to glaze over his eyes. your heart was breaking into pieces at the sight.

"it's been like almost two years though? maybe he doesn't know how to go about the situation. you should just get to the bottom of it and confront him tomorrow stanny." suggesting with a soft smile on your lips.

“i don’t know about that y/n, but thanks.” he chuckled, subtly glancing at your lips before clearing his throat and looking away again. while he watched the area, you rested into the crook of his neck. on the towel between the two of you was your right hand still intertwined with his. your eyes flickered up to scan the tree trunks. you gasped loudly at the sight above and patted stanley’s arm to grab his attention.

the two of you watched the branches above closely, your fingers squeezing his tightly while watching in awe. a bird’s nest was leaned up against the trunk of tree. you and stanley sat in silence to witness it. being as it was so quiet now, the only sounds that could be heard were little chirps coming from it.

“is that baby birds?” you whispered excitedly. rubbing over his thumb with yours. he watched how your face softened in awe. truly appreciating that you enjoyed when he shared this specific hobby with you.

his eyes widened when he finally realized the feeling in his stomach. butterflies. probably a whole zoo full of them. that was how much he liked, no, loved you. he shook his head and snickered at the fact you had the decency to talk quietly. “no need to whisper, y/n/n. we’ve been talking out loud this whole time. so, they won’t leave.”

you giggled; a sound that made him feel all mushy inside. stan loved your laugh and knew that if you asked him to do anything right now that he would in fact do it. smoothly letting go of your hand, he moved it rub your shoulder in comfort.

this was until you felt him slowly replacing the position of his fingers and they were repositioned underneath your chin. tilting your head upwards gently, he whispered softly now. it was almost as if he was scared that if he raised his voice to much, it would ruin the moment. “is this okay?”

the curly haired boy looked into your eyes for reassurance and you stumbled over a response by his sudden rush of confidence. lost in shock by his brown and golden flecked eyes, all you could get out was chopped, raspy response. “of course, bubs.”

stanley leaned in slowly, still a bit afraid you would change your mind. proving him wrong you quickly followed to meet him halfway. his lips finally brushed against yours and you felt his hand rub along your cheek with such delicacy. you scooted closer so you could easily put your hand in stan’s hair and massage his curls. he let out a small moan and smiled into the kiss.

before he pulled away slightly to let the two of you breathe, he rubbed your cheek once more. you kissed both corners of his lips and then his nose. a sweet laugh falling from his lips at the gestures.

you grabbed his hand again, playfully sizing them together and he watched. casually asking, “so do you want to be my girlfriend?”

“of course, i’d love to stanny!” grinning you leaned in to peck his lips once more but it turned into a small passionate kiss instead. after you both pulled away again, he questioned with a smirk. “should we tell the others, babylove?”

you let out a small hum, as if you were thinking of an answer. though, you broke the act with a smirk. one that he caught and snickered already knowing how this was going to go.

it wasn’t a hard decision, seeing as you felt like returning a little pay back of your own from all of the teasing. so, your response was simple. “nope. let’s see how long it takes for them to figure it out.”

© babytortie on tumblr + wattpad.

[amoc94]

"His Pet"

Summary : Min Yoongi. A business magnate, and a mafia leader. He was everything you would never imagine to be a part of your life. Yet fate is not something to be eluded.

He would do anything to make you his.

Pairing : Yoongi x female OC (From reader's POV).

Genre : Yandere, Mafia AU.

Warning for this chapter : Implied confinement, drugging by tranquilizer dart.

This story is not for easily triggered readers or below eighteen.

Full Masterlist and elaborate warning please read here.

List of chapters here.

CHAPTER 25.

Ten point eighty nine kilometers with six point thirty seven minutes per kilometer running pace. Not bad at all, at least for you.

You've been running around the vicinity of the mansion for more than an hour, trying to vent up your tension, which was almost everyday.

At least it did good to your physique. No matter how many chocolate bar or balls you gobbled, you would not gain any weight.

Exactly the opposite of your stress rate.

It had been almost a month since the incident in the night club, and you haven't stepped out your feet outside the mansion, not even a meter out the main gate. No more biweekly dinner or shopping with him.

Yoongi was punishing you.

"If you think I couldn't spot a lie when I see one, you certainly underestimated me."

"I know you are planning something, but sweetheart, try not to waste your efforts. Because it will fail, I will guarantee that."

"If you have so much energy to spare, why not waste it on me instead, in bed."

Oh God, how you hated that man. It was like his main purpose in life was to irritate and torture you.

Except in bed, that was the only place where both of you could blissfully agree to each other. Sleeping with him was like an ultimate stress reliever, the only place you could be as feisty as you could, without him restraining you.

In the past two weeks, along with your growing frustration level, you learned to let it out during make-out session with him.

One time when you got too rough on him, you could see the angry red scratch marks from your nails on his back.

Other time, while you straddling him, you gripped on his neck, tried to choke him, if not for your smaller frame and his swiftness in tackling the attack and flipped you over, you would probably succeed.

In your delusional realm that was. Because Min Yoongi certainly wasn't your equal opponent.

Everytime you tried another stunt in bed, he would only give you a mocking smile, as if he actually expected for it and enjoyed it even, before handled you easily, like you were a child who tried to throw a tantrum.

Maybe next time you should play dirty instead.

But of course you couldn't expect to wrestle him in bed all the time. He got work to do, and you got to have a life outside the bedroom, the boredom was killing you.

It wasn't like you didn't try to do something meaningful in your daily life.

You tried to cook, with the help of Mrs. Kwon, you tried everything, from dessert to main course. And you would persuade, or more like force Taehyung to try it, no matter how terrible it tasted. What could you say, Yoongi was rarely around during the day, so you only had Taehyung as your victim, albeit with slight resistance from him.

But that too, got you bored in the end. Cooking was never your thing.

Then one day Yoongi called you to his study, introduced you to an interior designer. He let you to redesign the bedroom to your taste, and gave you the freedom and unlimited budget for it. While you were so tempted to put a hole in his wallet, you couldn't bring yourself to do it.

Who would need a ten million won bed and upholsteries? Or the gold plated bathroom fixtures? You didn't even plan to stay forever in the mansion.

Might as well for the money to go to the payroll for his employees. Maybe you were stupid, but you were one who live with common sense, not on an impulse.

The redesigning job gave you a temporary work to do, but it only lasted for ten days.

You also took online classes to finish your degree, Yoongi arranged it to be linked with your pending study from your previous university. It gave you something to do, but it couldn't fill the void in your heart.

Somethings were missing, and you yearned for it. Maybe it was your family, Yejin, your coworker, your job, or your almost non existent social life. However minimal it was, but you missed it. Didn't they say people often long for what they could not get in the end?

You huffed loudly, and lied yourself down on the grass.

Maybe it was a good idea to walk to Yoongi's bedroom then just lay down in his bed, make sure that the remnants of grass and leaves and specks of sands would leave traces on his bed. It would serve him right.

Not that you could enter his bedroom as you would like anyway. He always locked it, only him or Mrs. Kwon or maybe the boys who had the key. Talked about paranoia on a whole other level.

And he wasn't in South Korea right now.

He left four days ago, stated that he had an urgent matter to take care of in Macau, something about problems in their casino. He left with Seokjin in his helicopter for the airport, before boarded their private jet for the trip. You haven't heard of him since.

You didn't miss him, of course. But you indeed missed the sex, out of frustration maybe.

You snapped out of your muse when you heard the sound of a car approaching the spot where you were sitting. You sat on the empty road side, maybe around two kilometer away from the main gate.

It was the van from the groceries shop where Mr. Park - the butler, usually ordered the ingredients and food supplies for the whole mansion. The backside load bay was enclosed.

You saw the van several times during your wandering around the building. Usually it would leave the mansion with empty cargo, because all the goods they brought were solely ordered by Mr. Park.

Suddenly an idea came to your mind. Why had you never thought about it before?

You blamed your too slow brain cells for that.

You could hitchhike with the van, and the gatekeeper would probably not noticing you since you were with the groceries driver. There was only slim chance they would recognize you, you almost never go out of the gate. Not without him anyway.

Whenever they saw his car, Sejin or him didn't even have to roll down the window, they recognized the uniformed plates' number.

You didn't plan to escape, you knew it would put your brother in danger, especially because you didn't know how far was your brother from carrying your plan out.

But the temptation to be outside the mansion was too great, and Yoongi wasn't around anyway.

Just think of it as Yuri's day out, a day of full adventure. You didn't have money, but you could borrow a phone from someone and call your brother to pick you up. Then you would be back to the mansion the next day, no one would have to know about you leaving.

With a newfound excitement, you stood up and frantically waved to the direction of its driver.

The van stopped and the window rolled down revealing the poker face of the driver.

"Hi, can I come with you until just beyond the gate? I plan to jog around outside, but the entrance gate is quite far from here."

The man was in his forties, and looked like the type that didn't talk much. He just gestured with his head for you to hop in.

As the car drove around one kilometer ahead, the guy's phone suddenly rang.

He picked it up with a sullen expression.

"Hello?" He paused while listening, then looked at you.

"It's for you." He looked confused, but gave the phone to you and kept on driving.

"Yuri?" It was Sejin's voice. "Whatever you are planning on doing right now, please stop."

You pressed the red button hastily, and gave the phone back to the guy.

"Something's wrong?" He furrowed his brows.

"Nothing. Please go ahead." You prayed that you would make it outside the gate, before Sejin could reach you.

"Look, I don't want to get into trouble." He threw a doubtful glance at you.

"It was nothing really. I will alight as soon as I'm outside. Don't worry." You started to get antsy, but you couldn't show it to the guy.

He kept his silence after that.

When the car stopped in front of the gate, the guy rolled down the window to let the gatekeeper had a look inside the car. The guard looked at the driver in passing, then gazed at you.

His stare lingered on you for a few seconds longer than you would like, you tried to put the best impassive face as you can.

Finally he waved his hand to hint the driver his approval. There was another man who opened the load bay to check the inside and confirmed all clear.

You were extremely on edge right now, you checked the rearview mirror to make sure Sejin wasn't chasing you.

You let out a relieved breath once the car passed by the gate.

A few meters away from the mansion, you weaved out from the van, thanking the guy several times.

You just couldn't contain your excitement. You started to jog through the empty street, trying to find a store or a house. It was quite a long way, and as far as your view could reach, the road was bare, not even a car passed by.

Suddenly, you heard the heavy roar of motorcycle approaching behind you, must be a big bike from the sound of it.

When you looked toward the source, it was like your heart stopped beating.

It was Jimin, in his orange hair glory swept by the wind, riding a black Ducati. His pretty face looked stern and upset, a threatening look upon his eyes on you.

"Yuri! Stop! Don't be stupid!"

His voice pushed your panic button, and instead of halting, you actually started running.

"Yuri! I don't want to hurt you!" He shouted.

You had a good stamina from your countless running bout, you could run pretty fast, but you were no Usain Bolt. Even if you were, you doubted that you could outrun a Ducati.

Maybe you were possessed, or maybe it was the adrenaline rush, but to your wonder, you could sense that you left him behind.

In fact, you couldn't hear the roar of the engine anymore, and your hope soared up.

Until you felt something pricked your ankle, it stung terribly.

Your running slowed down before you stopped on your track, and fell to your knees.

Looking at your ankle, you caught the sight of a red needle dart that was punctured midway, a gradual numb feeling crept up your leg.

You heard the sound of the motorcycle nearing and stopped next to you.

Your head was floating, your breathing got heavier, and before you realized, you collapsed to the ground.

Jimin was crouching over you, he touched your face with his cold fingers, brushing your hair to the side, out of your face.

"I warned you." He said with icy voice, holding a gun in his right hand.

You heard the sound of a car skidded to a halt, and saw a black Porsche pulled over next to Jimin's bike. Jungkook and Hoseok slid out from the car and ran to your spot.

"You used the dart gun?" Hoseok asked.

"Yes, she wouldn't stop running."

"How many did you use?" Hoseok crouched and retracted the dart from your ankle.

You couldn't move, your body was so heavy, and you felt like passing out soon.

"Only one. You used a small dose, right Hyung?"

"A child's dose. It would probably put her to sleep for two hours maximum."

"Jungkook, can you carry her? I'll drive instead, you can take the bike with you." It was Jimin's voice again.

Later when Jungkook picked you up and carried you bridal style to the car, you were wondering why Hoseok was there in the mansion.

Then it went all black.

Chapter 26

[chloelucia13]

Night Shift

Pairing: Chip Taylor x reader

Prompt: Working the night shift always guaranteed at least one strange occurrence while you sat behind your register. However, a bloodied man dressed in a women’s shirt and hot pink flip-flops was slightly out of your comfort zone.

Warnings: the is mostly fluff (surprising for me, I know), descriptions of gore, blood, medical procedures, language, mentions of sex, kinda vulgar but that’s expected

Word Count: 4760

A/N: Hi I am sinking deeper into the MGG obsession and that might not be good for me but OH WELL. Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy! As always, send me feedback, and tag lists are open!

Tags: @sojournmichael​

The sound of the entrance bell ringing nearly made you scream out loud. You were supposed to be on your break, but since literally everyone had ditched you to go home and sleep, you just had to hope that no one would bother you during your allotted thirty minutes.

You squeezed your hands into fists for a moment before getting up and walking over to the cash register. 

“Can I use your bathroom?”

You looked up at the man, eyes instinctively growing wide. 

The first thing that would’ve drawn your attention was the white women’s shirt covered in printed kiss marks that adorned his torso. However, you were too busy to notice the shirt due to the excessive amount of blood and bruising on his face.

 Your mouth opened, but you were unable to force a single word to come from your mouth. “I-I uh... Yeah. It’s at the very back.”

he just nodded and trudged off, which then brought your attention to his hot pink flip flops that seemed a size too small for him.

Your first thought was drugs, but you immediately debunked that theory. He seemed too aware to be high on anything. Along with that, his eyes weren’t red-rimmed and his pupils weren’t contracted or dilated.

But you were able to notice that his eyes were the most perfect shade of hazel you had ever seen, beautifully complimenting his olive skin that was marred with cuts and bruises.

You’re literally fawning over a dude in a girl’s tee and flip flops who, if you somehow had forgotten, was also caked in blood.

“Thank you,” the man announced as he walked back to the counter, now changed into a grey tee and jeans. “Can I also get $40 worth of gas?”

You examined his face, noticing that he had made an attempt to rinse the blood off of his face, but fresh blood had already began to ooze out of the deep cut. “You sure you don’t need any band-aids or anything?” you pondered, resting your hands on the counter. 

He shook his head quickly, wincing afterwards. “No, no, I’m good. Just the gas. Please.”

You huffed, pursing your lips as you moved to type the amount into the register. You stopped, though, and turned back to face him. “How about I only charge you $20 for a full tank and you let me patch you up?”

He squinted at you, his jaw tensed. “Why would you do that?”

“Well you clearly need medical attention, and I want something out of this.”

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Listen, I’m not gonna give you head or some-”

“God, no!” You scoffed, staring at him in disbelief. “I want to know what happened. And clearly, based off your previous response, I can assume it is quite a lot.”

He relaxed slightly, but kept his squint. You couldn't tell, though, if he was still doubtful of you, or if he just couldn’t bear fully opening his eyes to the harsh lights. “Again, why?”

You shrugged. “I’m a nosy bitch.”

“And how do I know that you’re not just holding me so you can call the cops?”

You let out a laugh, rolling your eyes. “God, I wouldn’t call those pigs if someone held me at gunpoint. It’s not like they’d do anything other than write some stuff down in their notebook and come to the conclusion that I was asking to get robbed.” You shook your head, pausing your rant with a sigh. “So, do we have a deal?”

His tough resolve seemed to crumble and crack with each word you spoke, finally slouching in place with relief. “Please.”

You stepped out from behind the register and stood toe-to-toe with him, getting a closer look at his face. You pulled at his eyelids, prodded at his bruises, and pressed your fingers against his scalp. You stepped away for a moment to flip your door sign to “closed” before coming back to him. “Alright, follow me.”

He nodded and followed on your heels as you walked into the employee break room. You pointed to an empty chair and he sat immediately, prompting a small chuckle from you. 

After searching through the clutter that your manager labeled the “supply cupboard,” you were able to find your first aid kit, a pair of gloves, some gauze, and some isopropyl alcohol. 

“Alright, I’m gonna get you sewn and patched up, and then we’ll head to the hospital for your concussion,” you explained, sliding the latex gloves onto your hands.

“What? No, no hospital! I thought you said you’d help me!” he argued, rising up to his feet.

“I can only do so much here. And if you don’t get that concussion checked out, you could die.” You walked over to him, setting your items down on the table next to him. “When was the last time you slept?”

You eased him back into his seat as he thought. “36 hours?”

You nodded, applying pressure to the cut that seemed the deepest. “And you haven’t slept since getting the concussion?”

He shook his head, his eyes following your movements.

“Okay. I didn’t feel any abrasions to your skull, but you might have internal bleeding or swelling.” You sat up and soaked a cotton pad in isopropyl alcohol before returning back to his cut. “This might sting a bit.” 

The moment you pressed the pad to his forehead, he let out a hiss, hands reaching out and gripping onto whatever was in his vicinity.

That just happened to be your upper thigh.

You jumped at the contact, eyes widening. 

“Shit, shit.” His hands recoiled, moving to cover his mouth. “I am so sorry.”

You cleared your throat, taking a deep breath and hoping that you were the only one who could notice the bright burning of your cheeks. “I-It’s okay. Not your fault. I probably should have given you a better warning.” You risked a glance down at his eyes before returning your gaze to the wound on his forehead. “Alright, I’m going back in. Ready?”

“Okay, I’m ready.”

You watched his fingers curl around the fabric of his jeans, gripping them with tight fists. With a quick breath and a mental reminder to ignore the prominent veins that laced his hands and arms, you pressed the cotton pad onto the wound. He let out another hiss, but kept his hands at his thighs instead of yours. “Alright,” you hummed. “Now that we got to second base, are you gonna tell me what happened to you?”

He let out a weak chuckle, his jaw clenching momentarily when you switched over to clean one of the smaller gashes. “You’ve got a few hours to spare?”

“Honey, I’ve got all night if you need it. I’m not going anywhere.”

A shaky sigh left his lips, and you watched as his eyelids fluttered closed, his lashes gently dusting against his skin. “My girlfriend- my ex-girlfriend- convinced me to go with her to steal $68,000 from a guy she... she worked for.”

You nodded slowly, grabbing another soaked cotton pad and doing a quick sweep over his skin. “So the guy caught you and beat you up and... Put you in women’s clothes?”

He shook his head. “We got the money, but she had other plans. She killed the guy, but I guess we didn’t check the house very well.” He gulped. “There was another girl there. Another girl who worked for that guy. I-I tried to... To have my girlfriend let her go, but she made me take the girl.”

A whole array of emotions were experienced while the man went through his story: anger and disgust at his girlfriend, heartbreak from the death of Violet, pure rage at the actions of the two gas station attendees and their friends. 

However, the most prevalent emotion was remorse. Remorse for this man you just met, for this man you don't even know the name of.

“... Holy shit,” you whispered, finally, pulling your hands away from his skin and crouched down until you were eye-level with him.

He chuckled, pursing his lips and attempting to blink away the tears that flooded his eyes. “Yeah. Holy shit.”

“I...” Your eyes searched his, hands mindlessly reaching forward to grip onto his hands that had loosened their grip on his jeans long ago, now lying gently against his thighs. “Do you need a hug?”

“I... I think so.”

With any inhibitions flying out the window, you wrapped your arms around him gently but firmly, hugging him as best you could.

From how tightly he had immediately clung onto your waist (and based on the vile stories he had told you just moments ago), you could assume he hadn’t felt a kind touch in a long time. 

And it seems that, as you melted into his touch, that he wasn’t the only one who needed that hug.

So much comfort from a man who was bloodied and beaten. From a man you hadn’t even gotten the name of.

God, you might actually be losing it.

The moment you felt his grip loosen, you pulled away, searching his eyes as you slowly stood up straight. 

“Thank you,” he spoke his voice hoarse.

You just nodded, giving him a shy smile before stepping over to your first aid kit, searching through its contents. “Have you gotten stitches before?” you questioned, grabbing a suture needle and beginning to clean it with isopropyl alcohol.

“Once when I was like ten, why?” You noticed him turning out of your peripheral. 

“The wound on your forehead needs stitches. Only a few, though.”

You heard his breath catch in his throat, feeling his eyes trained on you as you threaded the needle.

“I assume you’re not a big fan of needles?” You carried the needle and thread over to him, flickering your gaze between your tools and the gash in his forehead.

“Not really, no,” he huffed, face scrunching up in disdain.

You nodded, crouching down to look him directly in the eye. “Do you want me to count down?”

His tongue darted out to wet his lips as he considered his options for a moment, then nodded. “Y-Yeah.”

You gave him a reassuring smile before attempting to situate yourself as close to the wound as possible without blocking any light, but to no avail. You examined your space, letting out a sigh when an idea came to your mind. “Okay, I'm gonna have to...” You stepped closer, slowly placing one hand on his shoulder as you placed one leg on the outside of his right leg. “I’m gonna have to put my knee on the chair.” Grimacing, you lifted your knee and placed it on the chair gap that laid between his legs, your knee just centimeters away from his crotch. “I’m so sorry. Just... Don’t make any sudden hip movements.”

Once you were fully situated, you lifted your suture needle and lined it up with the area where you needed to make the first stitch. Quickly, you risked a glance down and saw that he was staring up at you.

In any other situation, with the heat radiating off his crotch and the way he was looking up at you, you definitely would’ve fucked this man on the spot. 

(But you couldn’t deny that he still gave you butterflies.)

“Ready?” you questioned, pulling your thoughts back to the present moment. 

With an audible gulp, he nodded. “Ready,” he hummed, eyes fluttering shut.

“Okay, one, two-” Quickly, you began gliding the needle through his skin, stitching the gashed skin together.

“Shit!” His body tensed, jaw clenching tightly.

“Sorry, it’s better if you don’t expect it.”

He breathed harshly through his nose, hands once more returning to his lap, gripping onto his jeans. 

“There’s something you didn’t tell me,” you spoke, brow furrowed as you focused on the sutures.

“Hmm?” he glanced up at you before wincing, closing his eyes.

“Did you ever get the money back?” He was silent for a moment. “Yeah. Yeah, I did.”

You nodded, gently brushing his hair back with your free hand as you finished the sutures and snipped off the remaining thread. “What’re you going to do with it?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t really had the time to think about it.”

A chuckle passed your lips. “What’ve you been doing the whole time you’ve been here?”

“Oh, just reliving my trauma.” You grinned, walking back over to your work area and grabbing some gauze and medical tape. “Don’t worry, it’ll just add to your personality. That and the nasty scar that cut will leave.” You tucked the supplies into your pocket and walked back to him. “Do you have anything else wrong? Any pain in your ribs or stomach?”

“I might have a broken rib or two.”

“Can you lift up your shirt for me?”

He slowly nodded as he rose to his feet, letting his hands gently pull his shirt up. As each inch of flesh was revealed, the bruises that spattered his torso and sides grew darker and darker. 

You cleared your throat, diverting your attention away from the obvious hickies that trailed from his chest down to just above his jeans, instead focusing on the heavy bruises that laid on his ribcage. After silently praying that your cheeks weren’t bright red, you stepped close and pressed your fingers against his bruises. He immediately hissed out in pain, recoiling from your touch.

“Sorry, sorry,” you hummed, directing him to sit back down. “You definitely have a few broken ribs, the others are probably just bruised. Nothing that some rest and painkillers can’t fix.”

As you got to work patching up his cuts, his eyes lingered on you. “How do you know about all this? All the medical stuff?” he pondered, pulling away slightly to look at you fully.

“I was working on getting my medical degree,” you explained briefly, securing a piece of gauze with medical tape. 

“And you just quit and decided working in a gas station was better for you?” You scoffed. “God, no. It... It wasn’t exactly my choice to make.”

“What do you mean?”

A small huff left your nose. “I thought we were supposed to be talking about you and your trauma, not mine.”

“Hey, you’re the one who took me in and gave me medical treatment free of charge. The least I could do is be your therapist for a minute.”

You pulled your lower lip between, closing your eyes. “It’s a long story.”

“I’ve got time.”

“And I thought I was stubborn.” After securing the last piece of gauze onto his face, you stepped back and examined his features. “Give me a second.”

You hurried out of the back room and over to the freezer, grabbing two bags of frozen peas before hurrying back to him. You directed him to hold one against his eye and the other against his ribs. He complied with your first direction, but decided instead to rest the second bag on his crotch. After you shot him a strange look, he explained with a huff, “I’ve been kicked in the balls more times this past 48 hours than I have in my whole life.”

You shrugged. “Fair enough.”

As you began walking away, he spoke up. “Are you gonna tell me your story or just leave me hanging?”

With a small grin on your lips, you dragged a metal chair over to where he was sitting, placing it right in front of him and sitting down. “I’ll tell you if you tell me something”

“What’s that?”

“What’s your name?”

He let out a sigh, though he gave you a grin. “Chip. Chip Taylor.”

“Chip.” You tested the name on your tongue. “It’s fitting. A nice American name for a nice American boy.”

He scoffed at that one, earning him a bright smile from you. “How about you, what’s your name?”

“Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N.”

“A nice name for a nice girl.”

You shoved his shoulder, only to immediately apologize afterwards. After he brushed it off, the two of you sat there in silence for a moment.

“I went into college when I was 17. I graduated a year early. I was in college for a few years, and my parents were paying for it all.” You pursed your lips, casting your gaze to the floor. “When I was 20, my parents got into a car crash. They both died.” “I’m so sorry.”

You shook your head, clearing your throat. “When we finally got the will, I found out that I was left out of it. My brother got the money and my sister got the estate, and I got nothing. I tried to stay in school, tried to keep going with my degree, but I got sucked into debt.” You finally looked up at him, staring into his sympathetic gaze. “Both of my siblings are successful and I’m stuck in the middle of buttfuck nowhere working at a gas station and about $15,000 in the hole.”

Chip’s mouth open,d but before any words could come out, you stood up and began cleaning everything up. “You never should’ve had to go through that. You don’t deserve to suffer.”

You hummed, tossing your gloves into the trash. “Says the person who literally went through a fucking horror movie.”

“Oh come on-” “Chip, trust me. My life sucks, but it doesn’t compare in any way to what you’ve gone through. Like, you had an abusive girlfriend-”

“She wasn’t abusive!”

You sighed, turning to look at him. “Chip. She was abusive, through and through. And I know it's hard to see, trust me I know, but it’s true. She literally manipulated you into killing someone and kidnapping someone else.”

 He stood up from his seat. “Well... Well maybe I deserved it! Maybe I needed to be roughed up and treated like shit so that I’d be a man! But you, you deserved nothing bad that happened to you. You... You’re too good.”

You were stunned, taking a moment to process what he said before walking over to him, tilting your chin up to look him in the eye. “Chip, you take back what you said right now.”

“What-”

“I’ve known you barely an hour but I know that you are one of the kindest, most gentle men I’ve ever met who doesn’t deserve an ounce of the shit he’s gone through. Now take back what you said about yourself.”

“Y/N-” You acted without a thought in your mind, your palm colliding with his cheek. However, as soon as your mind caught up with your body, you instantly pulled your hand to your chest. “Oh my god, I am so sorry. I-I don't know why I just did that.”

“Do it again.” Your eyes widened. “What?”

“Hit me again.”

Your hands were shaking, remnants of adrenaline still lingering in your veins. Hesitantly, you brought your hand up. You watched his eyes follow your hand, instinctively flinching and eyes squeezing shut. Instead, you laid your palm on his cheek, against the warm mark that was there from your doing. 

His eyes slowly fluttered open, furrowing his brow in confusion. “What are you doing?” he whispered, voice gruff.

“I’m not gonna hit you Chip.” “Why?”

“Because caring for people doesn’t mean harming them. And you don't need to change. You don’t need to be a ‘man’ because the man you’re thinking of is a douche. Men without emotions are fucking douche bags. They’re the guys who hurt you, they’re your ex’s brother. They’re assholes. And you’re not an asshole or a douche, you’re kind. You’re perfect the way you are.”

He was silent for a moment, eyes scouring yours as his lips pursed, but he let your hand linger on his cheek. 

“Run away with me,” he spoke finally.

Your breath caught in your throat, your whole body stock still as shock flooded your body. “... What?”

“I mean it. We can both get out of our shithole situations and find somewhere else! Be someone else!”

“But I barely know you! A-And you barely know me! For all you know I could be planning to take your money and run!”

He grabbed your hand, which had shifted from his cheek to gesture wildly around. “But you won’t.”

“How are you so sure about that?”

“Because if you really wanted to just take my money and leave, you would’ve done it already.”

You pursed your lips, glancing down at your hand that was still linked with his. “What if I hurt you? Take advantage of you like that girl did? I mean, I’m a fucking gas station attendant too. How can you trust me after all that?”

He shook his head. “I... I don’t know. I just have a feeling. I just... I feel safe with you.”

You pressed the heels of your palms into your eye sockets, letting out a groan. “Okay, okay.” Scrubbing your hands over your face, you began to pace. “Okay, this is what we’re gonna do. We’re gonna go to the hospital and I’ll just say you showed up here and needed medical attention and I have no clue who you are. You’re gonna get all checked out and make sure nothing’s wrong. We’ll get back to this conversation once I know for sure that there’s not something wrong with your goddamn mind.”

“I thought we were good! No need to go to a hospital!” “I can’t do shit here other than patch you up! Let’s go, no more arguments.” 

He let out a huff, trying his hardest to act upset, but his gentle eyes gave him away.

***

After some arguing, you were able to convince Chip to have him hand over his keys, allowing you to drive him to the hospital considering you only had a bicycle.

Once you pulled up, you immediately grabbed the manila envelope full of money and shoved it under the seats. “Okay, give me your wallet,” you hummed, unbuckling yourself.

“What? Why?” he whined, wincing afterwards.

“Because I have a plan. Now either give me your wallet or hide it somewhere.”

He grumbled a few words under his breath before complying, stashing his wallet with the hidden envelope of cash. “Fine. What’s your plan?”

“You stumbled into the gas station, said you were mugged. You don’t know who it was, but you need medical attention.” You moved to open the door, but paused to turn to him. “Also, you don’t know your name.”

“Why?” he persisted. 

“Because you can be a considered a missing person. Or a fucking fugitive if they’ve already linked the killings to you. So, you don’t know your name. Understood?”

He rolled his eyes but nodded, getting out of the car. You got out as well and rushed over to his side, draping his arm over your shoulder. “This is ridiculous.”

“You know what’s ridiculous? Getting fucking charged for like ten counts of murder! Now act like a damsel in distress and suck it up!”

The two of you trudged along the parking lot and into the ER entrance.

As soon as you two stepped foot inside, a team of nurses instantly swarmed the two of you, whatever mundane task they were doing immediately fleeing their minds.

“What happened?” one nurse urged, shifting Chip from your shoulder to hers.

“I-I don’t know. He just came into the station during my shift saying that he was mugged. I patched him up but I’m pretty sure he’s got a concussion and possibly some internal bleeding,” you explained with no hesitation, exchanging a glance with Chip before two nurses carried him past a set of doors.

Meanwhile, another nurse handed you a clipboard full of documents, requesting that you fill them out. You just nodded in response, scribbling through the forms with only half of your brain working to figure out what they were asking.

The other half of your brain was focused on his proposal that he made earlier. 

You had to admit, ditching this life and running off with a complete(ly handsome) stranger who had obtained $68,000 through some less than pure means honestly sounded like a dream. No shitty customers, no being stuck in a shithole town, no shitty family breathing down your neck. You’d be free.

On the other hand, however, $68,000 isn’t a lot of money on the grand scheme of things. Sure, you could probably pay for food and a studio apartment, but one of you would have to get a job eventually. And that doesn’t even add in the question as to where you two got the money, or how exactly you two would “disappear.”

The insistent questions and worries plagued your mind as you sat in the fluorescent-lit waiting room, making your skin look sickly and much more ashy than you had realized.

At some point those insistent worries must have lulled you to sleep as you woke from someone shaking your shoulder, startling you awake. “Hmm, what?” you mumbled, quickly rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

“Sorry to wake you, ma’am,” the nurse hummed, standing up straight. “We’ve completed the check up on the man you’ve brought here. Luckily, you two came in just in time. He most definitely had a concussion, and a severe one at that. He also was suffering with some internal bleeding, but luckily we’ve been able to get everything under control. If you’d like, he can stay here during his recovery-”

“No, no, I’ll take care of him. Do I need to sign any patient release forms?”

She gave you a slightly shocked look, but nodded. “I’ll go get those. He’ll also be prescribed some medication that we’ll send to the drugstore of your choice to be filled, but we’ll send you home with a few pills just to get him through until those prescriptions come in.”

“Okay, sounds good.”

She nodded and gave you one last glance, almost as if she was waiting for you to change your mind, before leaving to retrieve the medications and paperwork.

The nurse returned a moment later with a clipboard and medications in her hands, with Chip trailing/limping behind her. He settled into the chair besides you, his eyes lingering on you as the nurse handed you everything.

As soon as the nurse retreated, he rested his hand atop yours. “You don’t have to take care of me, y’know,” he hummed, his voice low and raspy.

You shrugged, signing along the dotted lines. “It’s no problem. Besides, I told you I’d fix you up and make you feel better, so that’s what I’m gonna do.” you sighed, scanning over a few paragraphs of text. “And I know that if you stay in the hospital, you’ve got a pretty good chance of being linked with... y’know, everything that just happened.”

You pulled out the sheet that gave you detailed instructions for the medications he was taking, folding it up and handing it to him before getting up and turning in all the papers at the front desk. When you turned back around, Chip was staring at you with a look of awe. Or maybe it was confusion. 

“What?” you hummed, helping him up from his seat and slinging his arm over your shoulder.

He cleared his throat, walking alongside you as his gaze shifted to the floor. “Nothing,” he whispered. “I... I was just thinking.”

“What about?”

He pursed his lips, leaning against the car once the two of you reached it. “I can’t remember the last time someone’s taken care of me,” he admitted, his brows furrowed.

Your facial features softened at his confession, your hand gently reaching out to rest on his shoulder. “Well you’re gonna have to get used to it, Chip.”

A small smile tugged at his lips. “Does that mean-”

“It means we’ll try it out, and if I hate you by the end of the week I’m kicking you to the curb,” you barked, but a smile tugged at your lips too. “Now get in the car. I’m tired and I wanna sleep.”

He flashed you a grin but obliged, going over to the passenger side and sitting down in the car. “Hey Y/N?”

You hummed in response, starting the car and putting it in reverse.

“Thank you. For everything.”

You gave him a full smile this time, driving away from the hospital. “I’m just trying to show you that not all gas station attendants are horrible.”

[lokis-army-77]

If You Please

Chapter twelve

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 2588

This is technically a reader insert but without the (y/n) and all that. She also has no name mentioned so feel free to imagine as you please.

Follow the reader through the events of the Captain America movies and experience her love for Bucky Barnes.

Warnings: none

Note: Normally I am the type of person to be date accurate when writing things and if you are too, I'm sorry. I messed up on the dates, so the battle of New York happens like a month after it should. This is also a short chapter because it's a filler and I'm trying to just get to the Winter Soldier but have everything make sense.

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Masterlist

A few days later I had received a small archivist job in the WWII department of the Smithsonian. Thankfully the made-up resume and a few fake SHIELD recommendations came in handy. I would officially start the following week after a few background checks were cleared. In my free time until then, I unpacked all the boxes in my apartment. It started to feel more homely and warm when all of my things filled up the space. When I didn’t feel like unpacking anything, I started taking long walks to the VFW building. I hadn’t joined in on any of the meetings yet, I just stood by the doorway and watched, listening to the stories people told.

One day that week as I stood back in the hallway after the meeting had ended, a man came up to me. He was a little taller than I was and had the brightest smile I had ever seen. I had watched him in the meetings before, he was usually the one hosting them, giving advice to all who needed it.

“I’ve seen you standing out here for the past three days, why don’t you come have a seat next time? It would be more comfortable than standing out here for an hour.” He said as he leaned his back against the wall right next to me.

“I have thought about it, but I tend to get here after you have started. I don’t want to interrupt anything by just barging in.” I said over my shoulder at him.

“You won't interrupt anything, just come on in next time, we’d be happy to have a new face around,” He pushed himself off the wall and walked down the hall.

After that, I ended up joining the meetings and even spoke a few times. I learned that the man who came up to me that day was Sam Wilson, pararescue, who had served two tours in Afghanistan. From the first day he came up and talked to me to now, we quickly became friends.

The days had turned into weeks and I was finally able to live relatively by my own means. The Smithsonian was great, in the archives, no one was really around and I could spend a whole day without any interruptions, which allowed me to just concentrate on what I was doing. After closing, I normally walked to meet Sam, who was usually way too excited to see me, even though we saw each other almost every day without fail.

“You’re late today.” I jumped, startled out of my thoughts at the sound of someone talking to me. I looked up, spying Sam standing next to one of the small trees outside the VFW building.

“What do you mean late?”

“I mean you usually get here at three-thirty. It's four right now.” He said looking down at his watch.

“Oh sorry, I didn’t realize. I've just been lost in my thoughts lately.” I sighed.

“I know we’ve only been friends for what? A month? But I already know when something is bothering you, What is it?”

“Nothing really, just my brother. Since moving here he's called at least twice a week to check up but it’s been radio silence for the past two weeks, he doesn't even answer when I try calling him. I'm just a little worried that something bad is going on, considering his job.”

“Well, maybe he’s just really busy at the moment, or he's somewhere he can't call you. You know how it is being out on those military missions.”

“I know, it’s just the last time we were apart on a mission,” I trailed off and looked up at Sam, he raised his eyebrows, quietly waiting for the end of the sentence. “Someone close to us passed. It’s still fresh in my mind like it happened yesterday. I was there that day and I was too far away to even know what had happened, now my brother and I aren’t even in the same vicinity as each other, there is no telling what could happen and it makes me nervous.”

He gave me a small apologetic smile and patted my shoulder before leading me from the tree where we stood to where his car was parked. “What do you say we hang out at mine and just watch some tv? Get your mind off things? Or we can talk about it, either way, it’s better than dealing with it alone.” I nodded my head and grabbed onto the car door handle as he unlocked it.

Walking through the front door after him I took a quick look around. It was cozy, way more decorated than I thought it would be for a man in his early thirties living alone.

“Make yourself at home. Do you want anything to drink?” He asked neck-deep in the fridge.

“Okay, I’ll just have some water,” I called out as I made my way further into the living room. The couch was backed up to the wall a few feet away from the dining room table. I sat down on it and scooted as close as I could to its right arm. A few moments later Sam came over with two glasses of water and a bag of chips. He handed me my drink before crashing down into his own seat. “Thank you,” I said before taking a long sip.

He nodded as he said “No problem.” Before he got himself really comfortable he searched around for the TV remote. As he pressed the ‘on’ button the TV came to life. “What in the world is that?” He sounded concerned so I quickly looked at the screen.

“Breaking: Attack on New York City. This afternoon at 2:15 several unidentified aircraft descended onto Earth's surface. Strange beings, some are calling aliens, Accompanied these ships and are causing havoc in Manhattan. Eyewitnesses have stated that they have seen Iron Man, and what seemed to be Captain America, leading a team of three others fighting back against the invaders. The battle seems to be over but updates are still coming in, let's take a look at some footage of the downtown destruction.” My eyes went wide and my heart stopped as I listened to what the reporter was saying. I kept my eyes glued to the screen as it changed to show a destroyed street. As the camera panned around I spotted Steve fighting against two of the creatures, before the clip quickly changed to show one of the large ships crashing into the New York skyline.

“Oh God Steve, what did you get into?” I murmured to myself.

“You say that like you know him personally.”

“Uhh.” I just gave him a wide-eyed look of surprise. “I do, he’s my brother.”

“Now really isn’t the time to be joking about things,” He gave me a pointed look.

“I swear I’m not joking, he really is my brother. I can explain later, I need to try and get a hold of him.” I pulled out the small flip phone from my pocket and dialed the number for Steve's cell phone, it rang and rang but no answer. I hung up quickly and dialed the number Fury gave me at the beginning of the month. After two rings he answered.

“I assume you are looking for Captain Rogers.”

“Where is he? Is he okay?” I tried to keep the worried tone from coming through in my voice.

“He’s fine. He is in the middle of a debriefing. I’ll tell him you called.”

“Okay, thank you.” As soon as the words left my mouth he gave a quick hum and then hung up. I looked over at Sam whose eyes hadn't left me at all. “Everything is fine, he's in a debrief so that means that whatever happened in New York is definitely over.”

“That’s good to hear, hopefully, those things don’t try to come back again.” He shook like a shiver ran down his spine. “Now please explain how Captain America, a man from the 1940s, is your brother.”

“I can hear the skepticism in your voice.”

He held his hands up in defense, “Hey, I'm not the one saying I'm the sister to a 90 something-year-old man.”

“Look, it’s a long story that I would rather not get into now but the short version is that I was born in 1921, Steve is my older brother, we both ended up taking the super-soldier serum and fought against HYDRA in the second world war. We ended up crashing a plane into some Ice in the Atlantic ocean and were found and unfrozen last October.” “If you are really Captain America’s sister, then why are you never mentioned in anything?” I looked at him and shook my head.

“Well for starters it was the forties and I was a woman fighting on the front lines. Credit is never given where it is due. But there is also the fact that I was a part of the SSR, which was very secretive, after I died.” I put my fingers up in air quotes, “They should have erased most, if not all the files on me, per protocol. The only reason Steve is well known is because of his time going cross country selling war bonds.” I paused for a second before quickly adding, “I’m sure if you look hard enough, you’ll find me in the history books somewhere.”

Sam just sat there not really saying anything. This was the first time I think he had ever been quiet for more than five seconds. I let out a deep sigh and stood, grabbing my bag from the floor. “Thanks for having me over, but I think I need to go. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He stood and walked me to the door.

“Don’t be late. I’ll see you.” Sam waved me off and I headed down the street.

About half a year later while sorting through some archive files, I came across Peggy Carter. I felt a pang in my heart as I stared at the photo of her standing next to Howard Stark. Other than Steve and Bucky, those two were my closest friends. I fell down a rabbit hole after that, finding any information on the two that I could find. They had both helped found SHIELD in 1965, they had both gotten married and had children of their own. Peggy's children had stayed out of the public eye, but in true Stark fashion, Howard’s son evidently took over the family business and was living the high life. I pulled out a newspaper from the stack I had on the table in front of me and was shocked at what I saw. The title read ‘Howard and Maria Stark Die in Car Accident’, I knew Howard most likely wasn’t alive anymore but seeing the photographs of the wrecked car in the newspaper cast a somber mood through the room.

I laid the paper down on the table and ruffled through more of the papers before determining that we had no information on if Peggy was alive or not. That sent me into a frenzy of looking through phone books to try and find her and calling every retirement home in DC that I could. The only lead I had to go off of was a small interview from a newspaper, talking to Peggy about the seventieth anniversary of V-E Day, stated that she was living in Washington, DC.

After eight failed calls, finally, on the ninth, I had finally found a home which had a Peggy Carter as a residence in room 204. I rushed to pack up my things and left my office early. I ran down the back hallways as fast as I could without drawing too much attention. When I made it out of the building I ran full speed to the road to hail a cab.

Amazingly the traffic was almost nonexistent and I made it to the retirement home in only ten minutes. I fumbled out of the cab and I raced through the front doors of the building. I must have startled the women at the front desk because as soon as I rounded the corner to the staircase, they were yelling after me. I took the steps three at a time in my haste to get to the second floor. I stopped running when I was outside of room 204. I couldn’t see anything clearly through the frosted window so I knocked hesitantly and slowly opened the door and stepped in.

There in the middle of the room, against the wall was a single bed. A woman laid there quietly with her eyes closed. The closer I came to her the more familiar she looked. I let out a relieved gush of breath. There she was, older now, but still the Peggy I once knew. I nervously grabbed one of the chairs in the corner of the room and brought it over to her bedside so I could sit. Gently I gave her a small tap on the hand before just holding it in mine. She stirred but her eyes never opened.

All of a sudden one of the nurses from downstairs came into the room, with an angry and shocked expression.

“Ma’am, You can't be in here. If you want to see a patient, you have to sign in.” I ignored her, my eyes trained on Peggy's face. The commotion of the woman barging into the room had made her open her eyes and look around. I just watched as she scanned the room, first to the door on the left, to the wall in front of her, past me sitting on her right, then to the window behind me.” Her brows raised and she lifted her hands to her eyes to rub. The shock on her face was evident as she turned her head to stare directly at me.

“Hey Carter, long time no see huh?” I gave her the biggest smile that I could.

“Is it really you?” She reached her hand out to mine and grabbed hold.

“It is, it’s really me.”

“Ma’am, I mean it, you can't be here.” The nurse tried again, this time Peggy shot her a glare.

“Ms. I’ll have you know this is one of my best friends and she can be in here if she wants to. Now leave us alone.” The young nurse nodded her head and rushed out, even in old age she could still put on that commanding tone that struck fear in every man. She slowly turned back to me, almost like if she looked back for me, I would be gone. “How? How are you here?”

“It’s a long story Peg, are you sure you want to hear it?”

“Look where I am, I have nothing but time.” She laughed out and I let out my own small laugh as I shook my head.

In addition to what I had been doing, like hanging out with Sam, after that first visit, I made it a priority to see Peggy once or twice every two weeks, depending on how she was doing. Dementia had put a lot of stress on her, and seeing me after almost seventy-five years and looking relatively the same as I had when frozen took out a giant toll on her.

And that's how the next 10 months went until Steve eventually moved into an apartment directly under me.

Tag List: @ginger-swag-rapunzel @underc0vercryptid-reads @geek-and-proud @intothesoul @leyannrae @starkleila

[pinkhairedlily]

Chapter 9 - Student Council President Sakura

SCPS AO3 | PREVIOUS CHAPTER

Sasuke wondered for the umpteenth time since three in the morning why he agreed to go with the baseball team for their summer camp and wondered more why the student council had to do its orientation and team building event at the same time. He supposed it was to cut down on expenses, but both trips could have gone on without his presence.

Well, it turned out his shoulders were needed as pseudo pillows for the sleepyheads duo. On one side, he can feel the wetness of Naruto’s drool dripping every minute onto his linen shirt, and on the other, Sakura’s vanilla shampoo was arresting his senses. Five hours after a rough roadtrip, the two awake beside a very grumpy Uchiha.

“I demand a barbecue treat from both of you,” he huffed as they disembarked in front of the groups’ joint headquarters.

His mood soured when Kakashi emerged from the next bus, serving as one of the stand-in guardians for the activities, followed by Hyuuga Hinata. She gave Sasuke a stern nod when their eyes met, and he briefly recounted their interaction while waiting for the rest of the participants.

“Good morning, Ms. Hyuuga,” Kakashi greeted. He waved for her to come closer, and he introduced her to the students. “If you’re not aware, the Sports Council has rolled out funding to under-resourced teams across the state to be particularly used for summer trainings. We’re lucky we’re one of those teams. Joining us as an observer is Mr. Hiashi’s daughter herself, Ms. Hinata, who also happens to study in the same district.”

She generously bowed to everyone with a tight-lipped smile. Later, she assumed a position beside Sasuke.

“If it makes you feel better, I did not orchestrate this,” Hinata said. “And if there’s anything you should now, both sides of that relationship have been hurt, with reasons far from what you’re thinking.” She stopped for a whole minute and breathed in, struggling to keep the tears at bay. “So please, leave me alone.”

Yeah, he was a bit of a jerk to her, Sasuke knew that. But he also knew that Hinata had already developed an affection for the blonde idiot, regardless of her denial. As much as he wouldn’t want to complicate things, he thought it best for now to allow the situation to play out. He had to remind himself that he wasn’t here to entangle himself in someone else’s business.

They settled in the mess hall cum dining area for a quick breakfast and breakdown of house rules. He still needed to get used to the fact that this was Sakura’s last time to be a head organizer for a school activity. She will pass on her reins to the incumbent secretary by the start of the next term. Both him and Naruto knew the extent of her sadness in letting this position go, and even more so the need to look out for her the instance she does her confession.

Yet she hasn’t. So they became unwilling witnesses to this awkward tiptoeing with awareness literally skewed to only one side of the party, and Kakashi showering in ignorance bliss.

They went about their room assignments, and Sasuke, with all his luck in the universe, was stuck with Kakashi and Naruto.

“I won’t ask if it’s possible to trade rooms, but would you care to explain why you don’t have a solo room of your own?” he annoyingly asked the silver-haired man who was nose deep at the moment in a coverless book.

“I’m your guardian, Uchiha,” Kakashi replied while yawning. “I’m gonna go sleep so why don’t you frolick in the ocean with your friends while it’s still your free time?”

Unwilling to spend his time with a man who annoyed him so much for no reason at all, Sasuke trudged off his designated room and followed the many footsteps on the sand. The untrimmed hedges eventually give way to the expanse of the gray ocean, its waves roaring from afar, building up like shifting towers, cresting, and breaking into foam by the time they reach the shore.

Naruto was already neck deep in the waters with the rest of his team, the new captain certainly setting a good camaraderie example. Sakura caught his entrance and waved him over despite the new council members intensely blushing at the sight of him.

“Sasuke!” He heard her call.

But every step he took on the soft sand was like a laboring walk on a cesspool of blood, his parents’ blood.

“The turtle is faster than you, you slowpoke!” Sakura continued her incessant teasing.

Trust me, I’m trying to get to you, he thought. Screams broke out just then.

And he felt like he was being whirled away into the barrel of his repressed memories. He started seeing everything in slow motion.

Naruto shouting cramp cramp cramp, an idiot move that got seawater into his nose, and ultimately made him lose his balance. Quick on her feet, Sakura swam into his vicinity with sure, measured strokes of an experienced swimmer. He heard her scream calm down you blonde idiot! and his teammates were able to usher him out of her hold and onto dry land.

But she didn’t manage to follow safely. She was swimming, but her direction kept on going farther away from the shore. She was caught in a riptide. The screams changed from Naruto’s name to her, the intensity and volume of voices getting stronger with every second.

“Sakura!”

“Miss Pres! Someone! Help!”

“Help please!”

Save her, a voice said in his head. “I can’t.”

Her pink hair looked like a blob riding untethered on the arms of the waves. Yet he was rooted to his spot, his memory spilling over like blank ink. Suddenly he can smell the gasoline in the air and the waves lose their sound, replaced by the gasps and shaky breaths of his parents, and the ticking time bomb of an explosion.

He started to hyperventilate as his sight closed in on him. “Sakura, I’m sorry.”

Fast and light footfalls passed by his side, breaking him out of his reverie, and Sasuke’s eyes opened to a coverless book on the sand, its pages fluttering in the wind.

A silver-haired man dove into the surface with no hesitation, briefly disappearing, and emerging again in a few seconds with an unconscious Sakura safe in his arms. Only then did Sasuke run in haste.

“Give us space!” Kakashi yelled with a sliver of anger and panic in his normally laidback voice.

Sasuke would have to content himself seeing the next events play out in between warm bodies, his heart drowning the waves when he realized she wasn’t breathing and Kakashi had to start chest compressions.

Seconds worth of chances and he stood there waiting again.

She still wasn’t responding.

“Come on, Sakura, breathe,” Kakashi pleaded through gritted teeth. When he counted down to thirty, he leaned down and gave her two rescue breaths.

Still no response.

“Dammit Sakura. Don’t die now.”

Another set of thirty compressions. By the fifteenth try, some council members have broken down and started crying.

“Fuck.” Kakashi did another pair of rescue breaths. Then she vomited water.

“Clear the way!”

A group of paramedics came thanks to Hinata’s calm thinking and took the disoriented pinkette from Kakashi’s hold. Sasuke’s eyes trailed after them, her long pink locks swaying in the wind, and landing on Hinata’s fixated gaze on him, like she knew something he didn’t. Or since then has denied.

--------------------------------

Sakura refused Kakashi’s instruction to go home. It was a close call, but she needed to see through a good transition in the student council, and a productive summer training camp for the baseball team.

“I’ll inform your parents then,” Kakashi said with a steely anger in his voice she was unfamiliar with. At whom it was directed she’ll never know.

“Ah, no need, I already called them,” she lied through gritted teeth. He responded with a brow raise but let it go for now.

“Get some rest, Ms. Pres.”

She did just that, holed up in a room for two days with minimal interaction save for her roommate Hinata who basically sidestepped around her in silence.

“How’s everyone?” Sakura asked her on the third day when she was about to scamper off to her observation duty.

“Your boys wanted to see you,” Hinata said. Sakura wondered if there was a tinge of jealousy in that but she saw the Hyuuga daughter as someone who already has all the good things in life. “But I refused entry since Naruto can be quite noisy and Sasuke is easily riled up nowadays.” Including sensitivity for others.

Hinata continued after giving her a plate of peaches and cranberry juice. “Your student council is still devastated, but they changed up their agenda to include a quick first aid training from a virtual trainer. Baseball team is doing quite well, far better than what I first expected….notwithstanding Haru’s absence.”

She noticed the visible change in Hinata’s expression after she uttered his name. “And how are you?”

The beautiful raven-haired looked at her with eyes brimming in tears. Poor girl never had someone to unload her broken heart to.

“I miss him Sakura.”

Sakura bites down on a slice of peach and taps her finger on one of Hinata’s clutched fist. “Do you still talk?”

Hinata shook her head, her fists clutching then unclasping each other in between pauses. “He was the one who ended the whole thing. Called me up for a date and we went to my favorite café, ordered me my favorite drink, and broke the news that he wanted to break up. He wasn’t angry when he said it, he was weary of everything, and I was hurt more by that fact. After I came home, I learned that he blocked me in all his social media accounts.” She took one slice of peach and stuffed it in her mouth, regardless of the tears that streaked her unmarred face. “I wanted to introduce him to Father, you know. Just until after I graduated so I could at least move away first. If he felt so suffocated by my family, how much more it was for me?”

Sakura puckered her lips with a tint of cranberry juice. “I think you’re both cowards.”

Hinata, who probably expected an empathetic response from Sakura, moved her hand away from Sakura and covered her mouth in surprise.

“It’s true,” the pinkette reasoned out. “Haru is a jerk for leaving all the work to you. He knows of your family so he should have stood up for you if he loved you. But you’re at fault too, Hina, because you know you could have introduced him earlier and faced your father’s wrath together. This gives me Romeo and Juliet vibes.”

“They both die in that story, Sakura.”

“Then West Side Story?” Sakura retrieved Hinata’s hand and put her hand over it. “I’m just saying I hope you find someone willing to take on that risk for you but also allowing you to have your agency to choose and act.”

Hinata doesn’t back away from Sakura’s touch. “You’ve always known what to say since we were in junior high.”

“Well of course! It’s because you and Haru are my friends!” She elbowed Hinata jokingly. “So Naruto?”

Blush bloomed on Hinata’s cheeks with a color far too intense to cover up. “Naruto? What about him?”

“It’s because of his strong people charm, isn’t it?” Sakura smiled, no longer looking at Hinata. “And if Haru had that personality, maybe it wouldn’t be difficult for your father to accept him.”

She was greeted with silence which told her that this was the truth, this was the reason why Hinata craved for his sunshine energy, and the reason why she had always wanted to orbit around him.

--------------------------------

Despite the life-threatening incident that marked the beginning of their excursion, the remaining days have fallen into some sort of normalcy and mundanity. Sasuke, more than he would like to admit, found himself spending more time with the mathematics teacher who was on his second coverless book.

“What’s your bet?” Kakashi asked out of the blue. Prior to this, they shared the silence punctuated with cicadas and the occasional crackling of wood in the campfire.

“Erotica,” Sasuke replied nonchalantly, seated across him on a foldable steel chair.

The teacher almost choked on his water. “What if I tell you it’s a classic lit?”

“A classic erotica literature,” Sasuke insisted. “Because if it is as safe as you said it, you’d leave the cover on because bookworms are snobbish like that.”

Kakashi chuckled. “What a brat. It’s a good thing I’m not a snitch for the school board.”

“You’re just implying they don’t pay you enough.”

“You’re really a brat.”

Again, the silence engulfed them, not much different from the night that lulled everyone to sleep. Sasuke kept his hands inside the pockets of his thin jacket, moving away from Kakashi to return to their room. He debated about this with himself for the last two days, wondering if it would be worth it. “You seem like a good guy despite your reading preferences.”

“Excuse me?” Kakashi’s voice was laced with offence.

“Thanks for saving Sakura.” He realized he was too young, too unreliable, like the kid he was once before. It was just he never grew up.

And the week was done, and time was in constant shift. The reshuffling in classes left him alone, but never that much, not when two extroverts came checking on him at every break. The spot behind the library was still their hidden spot, the dragonboat team was still their background music, and the countless scenes on the side of the lake were still their guilty pleasures of what-ifs.

Maybe every last year of every phase in life ended up going so fast. Like how the baseball team sped through the preliminaries to the nationals in one relentless drive. And yet again, he found himself going back to the same café with his favorite cashier who colored her hair pink.

“You like my new hair?” Sakura teased. “Okay hit me, I’m on a 15-minute break.”

“Stop eating my tomato basil salad first.” Sasuke flicked off her encroaching fingers on his bowl. “The team needs funds. In the board’s defense, they prepared for jersey uniforms, travel assistance, and board and lodging.”

“Up until the semis,” Sakura clarified.

“Unfortunately. What’s the council gonna do?”

“I’m not the president anymore, remember?”

Sasuke sipped his cold americano, looking pointedly at Sakura, who deflected his gaze. He tapped the surface of the table, knowing all too well that she will spill something any second now.

“The council is gonna do a fundraising event,” she finally relented.

“Please don’t tell me it’s another pass-the-hat.”

She shook her head, but if she was at all excited, she didn’t show it. “They’re gonna invite student musicians and do a showcase in the mall park.” She shrugged. “Not my idea and not my place to meddle.”

“You know it’ll be a failure, right?” Sasuke asked. “The crowd and the weekend traffic won’t be worth the effort.”

She sighed in agreement. “Well, Kakashi-sensei greenlighted it. They must have a trump card.”

Sasuke was right for the most part. No one paid them attention, not the crying kids, not the parents rushing for the flash market sales, not the aunties catching up with the newest town gossip. The music club was already halfway down to the set, and Sakura was keeping her head low and hidden in her beret in secondhand embarrassment.

“Please tell me it gets better,” Sasuke almost pleaded

She eyed him from head to toe with a smirk. “We could auction you if you want. Girlies at nine o’clock want your number.”

He rolled his onyx orbs but flushed at her insinuation that he was worth looking at today. It wasn’t his expertise to dress up nor did it come to him to actually buy new clothes in the last three years. He just put on an oversized graphic t-shirt over a pair of jeans and called it a day, and Sakura stood there beside him in her 90s fashion silk blouse tucked into black pants with a leather belt, very much unaware of how she stole attention.

“Let’s leave?” he suggested.

Sasuke lost sight of the crowd when she looped her arm in his as they walked away to the first notes of Flightless Bird, American Mouth. It was sudden, probably on impulse, and not much to Sakura’s thoughts, and maybe those were the reasons why he didn’t pull away from the electricity of her touch.

And maybe he should have walked quicker so she wouldn’t have looked back and seen Kakashi on the piano chair, stroking the keys like that of a lover, and his voice crooning everyone to join his atmosphere.

So while she stood there beside him, all dolled up and beautiful from head to toe, with her arm linked with his in the middle of a gathering crowd, she wasn’t entirely his, her heart not swaying in time with his pulse, but beating instead to the pluck of his chords.

Ah so I really was in love with her. A realization too late and another missed chance to offer her his saving grace.

Two songs later and a beaming Kakashi taking pictures with the audience, Sakura finally unlinked her arm from Sasuke’s, and they walked out of the mall under the threat of impending downpour. With hurried steps and foregone conversations, they managed to reach the shelter of a small shed along the bridge connecting the mall to the train station just before the rain ensued.

“Ah I forgot to bring an umbrella. Funny since it was scorching hot earlier.” She put out her fingers outside the cover of the shed, making contact with the drops. “Like it was sudden and inevitable.”

Sasuke kept mum about the umbrella inside his crossbody bag, wanting instead to drown in the rain with her.

“I wish it was that sudden and inevitable too – falling out of love,” she said as she took her wet hand inside for cover. “Because I’m running out of excuses to not fall further more.”

“You haven’t confessed yet,” Sasuke reminded her. “And we all know how that ends in this setup. You can never be together Sakura.”

“I know.” He heard her choke back a sob.

“I wish I could, Sasuke. But my eyes see him and then my mind plays back a dozen frames of him every second. I really wish I could do just that – fall out of love.”

She gave in to her emotions and cried with abandoned resentment and yet he saw her with rose tinted lenses – still beautiful in the woes of a first love heartbreak. His body started to move on its own, his arms hovering around her, an unspoken question of permission to touch her safe space, and she leaned into his embrace, an equally unspoken consent to envelop her in comfort.

They must have been lovers in the eyes of those under the passing umbrellas. His hug tightened at best, absorbing every convulsion in her small frame like it was his sole function.

“Would you like to use me, Sakura?” he whispered like a prayer he uttered under his breath for the rain to continue and give him a little more seconds, a bit more minutes, an illusion of stranded time with her in his arms.

Pools of emerald looked back at him stricken with fear. “It’s not fair. To you. To me.”

His ember irises held steady. “I don’t mind.”

“I do mind.” She cupped his face, soft yet calloused palms that tether him to this reality. “I do mind so I will not let my broken heart steal your chance at first love.”

But the rain has stopped as sudden as it started and she was out of his hold, running for her dear life out of the cover of the shed, through the bridge and into a train line he couldn’t follow.

But you’re my first love.

AO3 LINK | NEXT CHAPTER | CHAPTER 10

[smallblip]

LeviHan/JeanKasa go on a double date? :D

HEEEEE! My babies! I think I hijacked it and wrote levihan meet cute because I can’t get this out of my mind! I hope this was cute for you💖

Child’s play

“But mommm!” Mikasa whines, her mother snaps her a look before she can think of stamping her feet.

“Levi is going with you or you’re not going at all! It’s not safe when it’s late! You know that!”

Levi is past protesting. He tries to be as compliant as possible, after all, his brother and his wife have agreed to let him stay in their house rent free after he got a new job in the city. He’s a thirty year old man about to accompany his fifteen old niece on a date. The word he’s looking for here is ‘chaperone’, but he hasn’t been around kids enough to know.

Mikasa huffs one more time for emphasis before she heads out for school. “We’ll meet you at the diner at five after cram classes...” Mikasa says to Levi, utterly defeated. And Levi feels bad for her really.

When Levi heads to the diner he’s surprised to see how tall Jean actually is. What’s even more surprising, is someone else bounding behind them. Another thirty year old by the looks of it. Mikasa waves Levi over sheepishly.

“Uh... Levi... Uncle Levi, this is Jean and um... Ms Hanji... She’s our biology teacher...”

Hanji extends a hand towards him and he considers for a second before shaking it. What’s this? Another thirty year old accompanying a fifteen year old on a date?

“You mean chaperone?” Hanji says, eyes blinking, and as she processes Levi’s words, a hushed “wait... This is a date?” Levi gestures for her to sit with him at another booth.

“What did you think this was?”

Levi can see the panic swimming in her eyes. “I... I don’t know? It was after cram class and I was starving and they were talking about a diner and I-“ she freezes, “oh my god... I crashed my students’ date...”

“Welcome to the fucking club...” Levi mutters.

“Thank god you’re here... Or I might have just shared a booth with them...”

Levi raises a brow, “and you would’ve stuck a third straw in their milkshake too I suppose?”

At that, Hanji guffaws. Levi smiles. And they say he has no sense of humour. They order food because Hanji is literally minutes from dropping dead.

She peers over to Jean and Mikasa when the waiter leaves with their orders.

Even from where they’re seated, they can clearly see that Jean is nervous. Poor boy is chuckling dryly at everything and tripping over what little words he manages. But Mikasa is looking at him with all the patience in the world, and she’s blushing behind her milkshake.

“Aww... They’re cute...” Hanji coos, “Jean’s a good kid...” she says.

Levi knows, sort of. Mikasa has been telling him bits and pieces about her love life and truth be told, he doesn’t know why she does it? It’s not like he offered good advice, or any advice at all. And Mikasa sure was taken aback when he had said “he sounds like a jerk...” when she had told him about a certain boy named Eren she had a crush on. But he also listens when she tells him about this new boy- Jean. Someone she’s been friends with for a while but has never really got round to paying enough attention to see that he has a massive crush on her.

“I never would’ve thought... Mikasa used to like...” Hanji trailed off, taking a furtive glance at Levi. Maybe she’s said too much.

“Eren?”

“You know?” Hanji’s eyes widen with interest.

“You know? Do teachers gossip about their students?”

She laughs, “oh you have no idea... Things get boring around the staff office most times... The other alternative would be to watch Dita scroll through thousands upon thousands of pictures of his dog... Granted it’s a cute dog but still...”

“Tell me about it... My colleague just had a baby and guess what everyone in the office has been talking about for weeks...”

“Ooof...” Hanji says. She understands. Nanaba’s just had a baby and she still doesn’t know what possessed her to show pictures of Nanaba’s baby to everyone at school. It’s just a really cute, really neat baby.

“I won’t tell anyone about this date though...” Hanji crosses her heart.

“Because if you do you’d have to tell them you crashed it?” Levi says.

“Exactly.”

—

“What do you think they’re talking about?” Hanji asks between mouths of her burger. She has abandoned the knife and fork that was given to her.

Levi shrugs. He doesn’t really want to know what his niece is talking about with what could be her boyfriend if this date goes well. “They’re playing footsie...” Levi supplies, gesturing over to where Jean and Mikasa have their ankles pressed together under the table. Jean’s saying something and Mikasa laughs. Now they’re both blushing like idiots.

They see Mikasa politely ask to pause the conversation and she whips out her phone to type something. Levi feels his phone vibrate in his pocket-

“We know you’re staring...”

—

“I think my uncle has a thing for Ms Hanji...” Mikasa says. If there’s one benefit of this entire situation, it’s that it makes for good dinner conversation.

“What?” Jean says, he doesn’t want to sound dismissive but- “with the way he’s glowering at her?”

“Oh that’s just how his face is... He’s also staring at her...”

Jean looks over to where Hanji and Levi are seated. Levi is indeed staring, there’s this look on his face that can only be described as constipated.

When Jean turns his attention back to his table, there’s an extra bit of steak on his plate.

“You don’t want it?” He asks.

“I want you to have it.” Mikasa is smiling at him and he thinks she’s his dream girl. He plucks the Maraschino cherry from his milkshake and places it in Mikasa’s.

“But... That’s the best part!” She says, confused. Jean knows. Mikasa does have a fondness for cherries.

He smiles, sure his face has gone red by now, “I want you to have it.”

—

“So why are you chaperoning anyway?” Hanji asks. Jean lives two streets away from them so they’re walking towards home. Hanji tags along for the conversation. Somewhere between the diner and home Jean has plucked up the courage to hold Mikasa’s hand.

“There’s been sightings of a weirdo in a hoodie in these areas crouching in the bushes... My brother and his wife decided it wouldn’t be safe for Mikasa to be out at night...”

They’re walking on the street across Jean and Mikasa to give them some space, and Hanji lets loose a laugh that startles everyone in the vicinity. “I think that weirdo would be me...”

“Huh?”

“I’ve been going around collecting mushroom samples. There’s a great variety growing around the different neighbourhoods.”

“And you do that in the middle of the fucking night because?”

“Because... I can’t sleep?” She smiles, and Levi is determined that she’s absolutely crazy.

“But... Maybe it would be best not to tell Mikasa’s parents that... I mean... I wouldn’t mind... You know... Tonight was nice...”

“Hanji... We can hang out without chaperoning... Besides... I think Mikasa and Jean would prefer if we didn’t tag along.”

They pause a distance from the house and avert their gazes when Mikasa gives Jean a kiss on his cheek.

“I think that’s our cue to leave them alone... Wanna walk me?” Hanji says and they only turn back to look when the door shuts and Jean stands in the corner of the street and whoops. He does a little private jig and Levi is smiling, “I think it went well...”

Levi realises the walk isn’t “just a walk”, and is actually a fifteen minute bus ride away. Hanji offers to part ways at the bus stop but the night is still young, and there’s a breeze kicking up. There’s no harm in walking. They are at Hanji’s apartment block and she’s toeing the gravel, “so... This went well...”

“It did...” Levi says, “maybe we could do this again some time...” because he’s new to this city and it would be nice to have friends. Also he had received a text from Mikasa in the middle of dinner telling him to just go for it, and maybe his niece does give pretty good advice.

Hanji is grinning, there’s a dust of pink high on her cheeks and Levi thinks maybe it’s the light. “You wanna come in? We could be a couple of thirty year olds watching reruns of Friends...”

Levi feels his heart race, he thinks it’s a little ridiculous for a thirty year old to be standing under a street lamp panicking over what may be a crush, but here he is, doing just that.

“I hate Friends...” he says, very eloquently, “but I’d like that...”

[sirowsky]

The Flowers Always Know

Description: When a mad scientist uses you as an experiment while you’re on holiday, the Heroics only just manage to save you. And in your recovery you become very close to the leader of the group. (Slow burn)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Language, kidnapping, torture (not the gory kind), angst, buried trauma.

Link to Masterlist

Comment: You have a woman that seriously hurt you, at your mercy, and you’re struggling with how far to take it. Meanwhile, Marcus realises he’s going to have to save you from yourself, if he can find you in time.

Chapter 43

  You waited for her to wake up for almost thirty minutes, and that was after you’d taken her to the abandoned warehouse, and secured her to a solid metal post that used to connect the floor to the ceiling. You didn’t know exactly what kind of tranquilizer Tech had used, but it sure was potent.   Her feet were still tied together and you’d placed her on her knees with her back to the post. Her arms were strung up above her head on either side of the post, and secured individually, to ensure she couldn’t use either hand to untie the other.   Her head hung low between her shoulders and her body seemed completely limp. If not for her slow and even breathing, you’d have thought she was already dead.

***

  After your phone had gone to voicemail for the third time, Marcus lost it.   He’d been working on dismantling the containers, no longer needed, while he waited for Aidan to finish his task, and for you to call him. He didn’t do well with idle hands when he was worried about something, and there was so much at stake right now.   Then his phone had beeped, and as he’d read the message, his blood had turned to ice. He’d immediately tried calling you back, but he was routed straight to your recorded voice declaring that you were indisposed at the moment.   Desperate to believe that you wouldn’t do this, that you weren’t cruel enough to do what his mind was telling him were the only reasons you would have taken off with the believed head of the entire organisation you were trying to bring down, he tried again.   The third time was just dumb, but he really was losing it.   He ran back to Tech.

  “I need you to track my wife, right now! Her phone, car, fucking watch – anything!”

  “What? Why? What’s going on?”

  “She took off with Kane, we have to find her before she does something she can’t come back from.”

  “She wouldn’t do that, Marcus. She started all of this because she wants the pain and deaths to stop. She’s a good person.”

  “Yes, she is. But Kane very nearly killed our baby, and as much as I hope that she’s strong enough to resist, I know that the mother in her is the most powerful part of her, and she’s gonna wanna hurt Kane. Even if she doesn’t kill her, she might still torture her, and I can’t let her do that. It would never stop haunting her, specifically because she is a good person. Please, Tech.”

  “Okay, okay. Let me see what I can find.”

  Marcus was beside himself with worry, and his mind was grasping at anything it could to distract itself, while there was nothing he could do but wait.

  “Where are we with the operation?”

  Tech answered him at the same time as he typed impossibly fast on his laptop, and various windows were popping up and disappearing on the screen.

  “Only six more cities left to confirm completion. All the others have been successful.”

  “I’ll check on the kid.”

  He walked over to where Aidan sat on the same spot in the grass. The boy was pale and bathing in cold sweat, breathing hard and visibly trembling with the effort it had taken out of him. With so few locations left, he had been able to let go of most of the birds, but he was exhausted and still had hundreds of birds left to direct for a while yet.   Marcus knew that Aidan’s fate mattered to you, and it did to him as well, so he sat down next to him, and put his arm over the kid’s shoulders. He just wanted to convey that he was there and that he cared, and Aidan seemed to feel it, because his discomfort lessened a bit.

  “I found the car!”

  Tech’s voice reached him from across the field, and he got up, but not before whispering ‘hang in there, kid’ to the boy. Then he sprinted back to his friend’s station.

  “Tell me.”

  “I don’t know what the hell she did with her phone, but I can’t see it at all. I had to break into her car’s emergency alert system, and trick it into believing there’d been an accident, to get it to reveal the coordinates. It’s parked on a street on the edge of a warehouse district, but she could be in any one of a hundred different abandoned structures on that lot.”

  “Just send me those coordinates, I’ll find her.”

  ***

  When she finally did wake up, you felt oddly calm. As though something inside you relished the thought that she was about to wake up to a real-life nightmare. Somewhere deep inside, you knew that you should be disgusted with yourself for reacting like that, but your hatred towards this woman was clouding your mind, and darkening your heart. But just knowing that wasn’t enough to make you wanna stop.    Her head twitched first, and then her hands, as she tried to move against her restraints. When she realised that she was unable to, she tried to lift her head, but she was still groggy, and her nerves weren’t responding normally, resulting in a clumsy few bobs of her head before she managed to draw it back to rest against the post.   She was still too groggy to speak, but you saw the recognition in her eyes when they fell on you, and there was surprise in there as well, which pleased you more than it should have.

  “Hi. I’d say it’s good to see you, Emily, but it just isn’t. I don’t even know what to say to you yet. I’ve been sitting here for half an hour thinking about what I wanna say… or just do, to you, and I still don’t know. But we have time. I’m sure I’ll figure it out.”

  “You… have no.. idea… what… you’re doing.”

  “And why is that? Because you experiment on people against their will, and have no problems with being complicit to mass-murder, if not committing it yourself? Or is it because you’re the leader of a covert organisation of hundreds of agents that do all of that on your behest?”

  She was regaining control of her body, and you could see the contempt in her face as it dawned on her just how much you’d already figured out.

  “How?”

  Her tone was demanding and arrogant, and as the façade of the benign doctor fell away, you didn’t even recognise her face anymore.

  “You told me. Through my subconscious. Word of advice: if you’re gonna give people powers, having no idea what they might turn out to be, don’t show them your fucking face.”

  “Those memories... were removed. The super who took them… he never fails.”

  “He left behind just enough that my powers could recreate a single image for me. But that was enough.”

  “Well, congratulations, you figured it out. You’ll never stop us; our organisation has grown exponentially.”

  “The Society of Inferiority Complex, yeah, we know.”

  “How mature…”

  “An acronym that spelled SIC (sick) was just too appropriate to pass up.”

  “I don’t give a fuck what you call us. Before long, you’ll be introduced into a world where everyone is just as powerful as you. You won’t be so smug then.”

  You got up from the crate you’d been sitting on, and stepped right up to her so you could squat down and face her at eye-level, mere inches away from her.

  “Tonight, hundreds of our operatives have kidnapped hundreds of yours, just like I did with you. We’ve been monitoring your activities for months, mapping your movements, documenting your labs and temporary offices all over the world. You never even knew how many supers live covert lives in today’s society, did you? Well, we found hundreds of them, and after hearing what you did to me, and to those children, they all volunteered to help us. Your own actions created an army of superpowered people hellbent on destroying you. Did you really think you’d be able to beat us? All you’ve done is unite us.”

  “Aren’t you clever, little Rainbow. But, tell me… If you’re such a good girl – why’d you bring me out here? All alone. Where no one can hear us.”

  You pulled back just a few inches, but her question only managed to wake all the anger inside you back to roaring life. If she really wanted to know the answer, you’d happily show her.

  “Because you tried to kill my baby.”

  You dropped all pretence, and allowed your powers to flare freely. The concrete under your feet snapped and cracked, sending long trailing crevices through the floor. Time and erosion had created flaws from underneath, that meant that large sections dropped several inches in some places, sending thunderous rumbles through the whole area. But you didn’t care.   Ordinarily, your mind automatically shielded anything living, standing in your vicinity, when you flooded this dimension with the denser energy of the others that you had access to. Otherwise, you’d destroy every living cell around you by forcibly compressing them until they were crushed. And, ordinarily, that wasn’t something you wanted to be responsible for.   But not this time.   You merely sat there, hands clenched into fists, staring at her, seeing only those eyes that had looked at you with such fondness while you worked with her. Those eyes that had fooled you so completely. You wanted to rip them out of her head.

  “Good show. But we both know you don’t have what it takes to…”

  Your stillness was an illusion. You were slowly gathering an increasing amount of energy into the air around her, and as the space got more and more crowded, her whole body was slowly being crushed.   She fell silent mid-sentence when she realised that your stare was in no way harmless, and a minute later, the first scream escaped her.

***

  The car was unlocked when Marcus got to it. The keys were still in the ignition, and on the front passenger-seat he found a contorted piece of metal and plastic and glass that had probably been your phone. All the materials had melded together as you’d forced them to compact more than they were actually structurally able to.   That was a bad sign, if he’d ever seen one.   There was nothing else in or around the car that could indicate which way you’d taken your prisoner, and the odds that you’d have stayed close enough to be able to hear him if he shouted for you from there, were non-existent.   Using his current, he tried to sense your energy, and was almost startled at how strong a trail he discovered. But, of course, he should’ve known that you’d use your ghost hands to move Kane, to prevent leaving marks on the ground, as well as make it easier for yourself.   He started following the signature of your powers, so familiar to him by now, and it led him into the very heart of the labyrinth of old run-down buildings and factories.   But when he got to a certain point, the energy suddenly quadrupled, snaking off in four different directions.

  “Oh, for god’s sake, woman… Give me a chance, at least.”

  A terrifyingly loud rumbling, accompanied by what very well could’ve been an earthquake, but wasn’t, came from his left, and without hesitating he ran towards it.   The ground was split open and uneven and half-collapsed buildings lined the roads that he followed to get to you. But he still had to run for hundreds of yards until he reached the structure that it seemed to be coming from, based on the directions of the cracks under his feet.   Realising how far you’d allowed your energy to reach, he was once again amazed at just how powerful you were, but also petrified that it might mean he was already too late.   As he made his way inside the lightly trembling warehouse, he heard blood-curdling screams coming from somewhere inside, and his heart fell. But if she was screaming, she was still alive, which meant he still had time.   When he got to the right place, it was like walking into a nightmare.   There was no ceiling above you and no lights were working, leaving the room basking in nothing but the pale and ghostly moonlight. You’d somehow twisted the whole room so that nothing was straight anymore. Posts and beams and even the walls, were all bent or curved or twisted around themselves or something else. The ground had risen in some places, and fallen in others.   It felt like he was walking into a physical representation of what your mind looked like right now. And in a way, he supposed it was.   Kane was still alive, but whatever you were doing to her was painful to the extent that she was shaking uncontrollably against her restraints, pleading like a child for you to stop, in between fits of vomiting and convulsing.   And you were so calm. So viciously calm it was heart-breaking to him. You just sat in front of her, one knee resting on the ground, the other under your elbow, watching her as though you were a cliff and she was the ocean, thrashing against you with all her might, but unable to move your solid frame even a single inch.   If he hadn’t known how much this was actually hurting you, he might’ve found it fascinating. But he knew you so well that all he could see, was his beloved wife being destroyed.

***

  “Hermosa.”

  His voice came to you like a butterfly against a hurricane. Like soft whispers carried on those wings, so faint, but still able to drown out that howling wind in your ears.   Your eyes automatically turned to find his, and the pain that was already overwhelming your heart, seemed to double.   This wasn’t who you were, you knew that. Every fibre of your being knew that, but you’d forced them into silence with your anger. Used your pain as a shield against all those voices telling you to stop.   But Marcus… seeing him look at you with that much fear…   Not the fears you’d seen before, when he’d thought he was losing you, or when you were injured or being threatened, or the fear that you wouldn’t love him anymore after he walked away from you.   No, this time he wasn’t afraid for you – he was afraid of you. Of just what you were capable of, how far you were willing to go, how much darkness you were willing to let into your heart to try and be free of the pain that festered in there.   Your powers were draining you fast. You’d made no attempt to hold them back at all, and if you stopped now, all that exhaustion would come crashing over you, and you’d be unable to finish what you’d started.   But what had you started? What was it you were hoping to achieve here? You’d wanted to hear her scream, and you had. You’d wanted to hurt her like she hurt you, and you had. But did you want her to die? Were you willing to become a murderer just so that you didn’t have to see the falseness of her face ever again?   Confused, but no less angry, you forced your gaze away from your husband, and refocused on Kane, pulling even more energy out to thicken around her until one of her shoulders was pushed out of alignment with the amount of force bearing down on her.   The harsh popping sound was loud enough to reach Marcus’ ears, and her resulting scream made him close the distance between you, while he started begging you to stop.

  “Please… this is wrong, you know that, mi amor.”

  “You know, I remember thinking that if there had just been someone there to stop my torturer, I could’ve been spared so much pain and fear. And then I found out someone was there, but she did nothing to help me. She just watched and enjoyed the show. So, why should I treat her any better? Why should she be spared that pain?”

  Your energy already filled the room, and half the damned district, so when the images started appearing, they didn’t just show up around you, they flooded the whole area. Every memory you had of every moment that had hurt you, throughout your whole life.   There were hundreds of them.

  “The tears I’ve shed could build a lake. Tell me what I’ve done to deserve that. How could anyone do anything bad enough to deserve all of this?”

  “You’ve done nothing wrong, hermosa. Life just doesn’t work like that.”

  “Then I should at least get to avenge myself!”

  Her other shoulder popped, and she squealed and wailed until her voice gave up and she just sobbed instead.   Marcus moved even closer, just a few yards away from you now.

  “You should. You should get to avenge all the terrible things that have been done to you, but you never can. All you can do, is hurt yourself instead. I know you’re forcing yourself not to feel it right now, but this hurts you. You want it to feel good, to make you feel better, but it won’t, because you’re a good person. You are a good person, hermosa. That’s why I married you, that’s why you’re carrying my child, and that’s why my daughter loves you.”

  Missy. Fuck. Why’d he have to mention her?

  “Please, sweetheart. Don’t make me watch you destroy yourself. I already lost one wife… I need you to let me keep you.”

  His voice was so frail by the end of that sentence that you feared a mere breath might break it apart. And yet, his words held so much power. They forced their way under your skin, cooling your blood and pushing the anger out.   But the pain was still just as strong.   Desperate to get rid of it, to be free of everything that haunted you, you collapsed on the ground, and enormous quantities of your sparkling dust poured out of you, flooding the room in every direction, flowing unhindered through all that energy that you’d pumped into it.   The images were still there, snapshots of the worst moments of your life, the one’s that caused you more pain than you could ever voice, and you wished that you could make them solid. That you could pull them out of yourself completely and leave them behind in that room.   The dust pulled the images apart, turning them into three-dimensional representations of themselves, while you watched, actually seeing the magic happen for the first time.   When the sculptures were finished, they solidified, just like before.   A single tear escaped your left eye as you saw your very worst memories turned into some sort of bizarre museum-exhibit all around you. It rolled swiftly down your cheek, and with the way you were sitting, it should’ve hit the top of your left hand, holding you up from the ground. But it never landed.   Instead, it hovered mid-air for a few seconds, before splitting into dozens of smaller drops, that each flew away to one of the sculptures. And as the drops made contact with them, the sculptures turned to stone. Transparent, and still sparkling in every colour on the spectrum, but unmistakably more solid than just the dust.   Once again, your powers had tried to give you what you asked for, what you needed the most. If only the memories could’ve been trapped inside those statues as well. If only you actually could get up, walk away and leave them behind forever.   Strong arms encircled you as Marcus pulled you off the ground and into his chest, and you finally gave in. Now that you allowed yourself to feel it, you were completely spent. You wanted to say something to him, but he didn’t need an explanation, he understood everything, you knew that.

  “Marcus… I’m sorry…”

  He just kissed your forehead and held you closer, but if he said anything, you passed out before you could hear what it was.

Author’s Note: As always, I love criticism, please don’t be shy to let me know if there’s anything you like/don’t like/have questions about.

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