#also please appreciate how hard it is for me to draw the steering wheel on the left hand side I struggled so hard doing that

[seagull-scribbles]

Was inspired by @lilivae to draw a little Hazbin scene….and used it as an excuse to draw Travis again ♥️

[sweetyyhippyy]

Late Arrival. Spencer Reid x Reader.

(Not my gif)

Summary: Spencer is coming back home after an out of state case runs long. You fall asleep waiting for him, and when he finally does come home, he sees your outfit and there is no way he can’t wake you up for a proper homecoming.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

TW: Brief mentions of masturbation (male and female), sleepy sex?? (I don’t know how to refer to it), calling Spencer daddy (duh), fingering, reader trying to be dom and Spencer teasing, unprotected sex, creampie, a lot of praise kink.

Word Count: 3.2k

A.N: I saw @fics4arainyday​ put that she wanted someone to write this concept, so i did! I hope you like it! Also, I’m bad at ending fics so 😬... sorry! 

link for lingerie I refer to: x 

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It had been 3 agonizingly slow weeks since your fiancé had been home.

Being engaged to an FBI profiler wasn’t always easy. The days, even weeks being apart, Spencer coming home at all hours of the night too exhausted to stay awake and spend time with you, missing birthdays, holidays, anniversaries being states away on those occasions.

But in all honesty, you still wouldn’t have it any other way.

Nobody else could make you laugh the way Spencer did. Nobody else could make you think the way Spencer did. Nobody could lovingly annoy the crap out of you the way Spencer did. And most importantly, nobody could fuck you the way Spencer did.

He has been gone for 3 weeks, but the week before he left, there wasn’t a lot of sexy time going on since you were busy with your own job. It was the occasional quickie before having to rush getting ready for work in the morning, a quick mutual masturbation session on a lazy weekend, but no real “wake the neighbors” fuck that you were so desperately craving. Keeping a healthy sex life was important to both of you.

So when you got the call from Spencer that the case was finally over and he would be coming home that same night, you knew it was go time.

You didn’t have much self control when it came to online shopping when Spencer was gone, what else were you supposed to do? The goldfish you two had as a pet wasn’t much company.

So you had treated yourself to a few new pairs of lingerie. Spencer was going to love all of them, but there was one in particular that you knew he was going to lose his mind over. It was baby blue see through with a floral pattern throughout the slip. It left very little to the imagination but that was your favorite part about it. Technically you were supposed to wear some sort of underwear but the slip looked better without it.

You took a hot deep shower and pampered yourself a few hours before you knew he was going to be home, that way you were nice and relaxed and ready for his arrival. You kept your hair simple since Spencer would be pulling at it all night. But you did put some makeup on just to enhance Spencer’s favorite part of your face, your eyes.

The mood of the room was set; the bed was perfectly made, the candle you had given Spencer for a “just because present” called “Bookstore” smelling like mahogany, leather, and coffee; lit on the bedside table. It was meant for him but you enjoyed it much more than him. All that was missing was Spencer.

You looked at the time on your phone, only 10 more minutes before Spencer was due home. You lay on your side of the bed, flipping through tv channels to find something to watch to occupy your time.

***

Spencer turns the key to turn the car off, he drops his hands from the steering wheel into his lap, letting out a deep sigh. He could have been home over 3 hours ago but the jet back home was having engine issues, so the team had to fly through a regular airport… which meant waiting for a flight.

The case wasn’t particularly a rough one emotionally, it was just long. Spencer missed you like crazy within the first few days of being away. Late night phone calls weren’t the same as physically being with you.

Spencer grabbed his satchel, leaving the rest of his baggage to lug up to the house until tomorrow when he had enough rest. As he’s walking up the driveway he can see the light on from the kitchen, signaling you were awake and waiting on him. He knew how much you hated waiting, so by now he knew you were seething with rage. There was about to be a lot of apologizing he was going to have to do. Spencer unlocks the front door, dropping his bag next to the front door and kicking his shoes off right next to it.

“Babe?” Spencer calls out, removing his jacket and hanging it up on the back of the couch. He listens for an answer, but all he hears is the slight murmur of the tv from your bedroom.

Spencer begins to unbutton his shirt as he walks down the hallway to the blue hue of the tv shadowing onto the floor. He steps into the room, spotting you curled up on top of the comforter fast asleep. Before he could appreciate how adorable you looked, softly snoring, he noticed the little outfit you were wearing. You laid there on your belly, one leg straight while the other bent up on the pillow next to you.

He scans your body through the see through fabric, spotting the lack of underwear on your lower half while your butt was fully exposed to him. You were practically a step away from being naked. He quietly walks over to the bed and touches the hem of the slip and carefully hikes it up your butt, not earning a reaction from you.

Spencer quickly sheds his shirt off and throwing it off to the corner of the room along with his dark slacks, kicking them off quickly. Spencer carefully climbs into the bed behind you, laying on his side and palming himself through his boxers to get himself hard, which really didn’t take much as his eyes rake over your body and his imagination runs wild about all the things he was about to do to you. He hisses as he strokes himself harshly, his cock growing harder every second.

Your body shifts next to him, a low grumble coming from your mouth as you shift in bed onto your side, your ass now completely facing him.

Spencer’s eyes widen seeing you move, he didn’t want to get caught stroking himself less than a few inches from where he wanted to be. He finally scoots closer to your body, resting his hands on your bare hip, your skin a little cold from the lack of bed sheet or clothing on you. He lines himself up with your entrance, slowly slipping in between your folds, not yet sliding in. He rubs the tip of his cock up and down you, finding you were already a bit wet.

Your whole body jumps a loud gasp filling the room which makes Spencer pull himself back. Your head turns quickly behind you to look at Spencer, a little glimmer of fear in your eyes. “What the fuck?” You whisper yell at him.

“I’m home. And I see you left a present for me.” He says, whispering in your ear. “Is this okay?” He asks, his hand moving down your thigh and lifting it slightly for easier access.

“I don’t know. I’m pretty annoyed you were so late. I’m kind of not in the mood anymore.” Your voice was laced with sarcasm as you cocked your eyebrow at Spencer.

He licks his lips, a smirk on his face appearing as he picks up on the little game you’re playing with him. “No? Well I think I have some apologizing to do.” Spencer says, moving the strap of your outfit out of his way, kissing up your shoulder and over to your neck.

Your eyes flutter closed at the feeling of his soft lips pecking at your skin, a low hum coming from deep within your chest.

“You know I missed my girl so much while I was gone.” He says, his hand traveling up the underside of your outfit all the way up your stomach and up to your breasts, kneading one in his large hands as he spoke in your ear. “I missed waking up to you.” Kiss. “Seeing your beautiful face.” Kiss. “Hearing those sexy moans about how good daddy makes you feel when I’m touching you.” Kiss. “And how wet you get without me even trying.” Kiss.

You were putty in his hands, the game of trying to be tough was no longer working, and Spencer was fully aware of it.

His hand leaves your breast and goes back down to between your legs, his fingers running over your inner thighs, intentionally skipping over your core.

You whine as his fingers tickle you, scooting your body back against him. “Spence.” You pathetically whine, taking his hand and leading it to your throbbing middle. You keep your hand on top of his as you feel him play with your slit, feeling all the wetness that was seeping out of you.

“You want me to touch you?” He asks, kissing the spot below your ear.

“Please, baby?” You beg, turning your torso enough to look at him, pouting your bottom lip out ever so slightly.

His fingers part your lips, finding your bud immediately and slowly drawing lazy circles around it. Your body reacts immediately, relaxing against his body as he massages you. Your hand moves back to tangle in his hair, pushing his head closer to yours, your lips meeting for the first time in 3 weeks. His fingers continue to work their magic, as you two heavily make out with one another; his tongue slipping into your mouth and yours into his.

Your body quivers as Spencer drops his fingers down to the pool of wetness between your legs, two of his fingers slipping inside.

You pull back from the kiss, gasping loudly. “Fuck.” Your eyes flicker to his face, your mouth agape.

“It amazes me how tight you are. I’ve been with you for almost 6 years and it’s always so amazing.”

You moan in response, not being able to form words at the moment.

The room is filled with the sounds of the wetness Spencer is drawing out of you and your breathy moans. Your high was coming quicker than anticipated, Spencer could feel it in your body and could see it in your face.

You cling onto his forearm, keeping him in place. Spencer liked to play games like denying you of your orgasms, but you weren’t going to let him this time. Your eyes rolled back in your head as you fought to keep them open but you were far too overstimulated at this point. The knot came undone as you clenched around his fingers, a string of curse words and desperate moans fall from your mouth as you ride your high out.

“That’s it. Good girl.” Spencer coos, still slowly drawing what you have left out as you try to regain your breath. He kisses your cheek and moves his fingers out of you carefully. “Do you want to taste?” He questions.

You roll over onto your back, nodding your head and grabbing his hand, bringing it up to your lips, and letting him slip his middle and ring finger in your mouth. You swirl your tongue around his fingers, sucking on them harshly.

Spencer looks at you in admiration as you look up at him with innocence in your eyes. “I love that I’m the only person that knows how much of a dirty girl you are.”

You open your mouth to let his fingers free, smiling at him. “And I like that I can be your dirty girl.” You say, wrapping your fingers in his curls and bringing his head down to kiss him. “Come here, I want to give you your welcome home celebration.” You say, moving him off of you.

“Normally I’m all for that, but I need to be in you. I’m not going to last long if you use your mouth.”

You sit up on the bed and get up onto your knees, pulling Spencer up to sit up too. You straddle his lap, cupping his face in your hands, rubbing both of your thumbs on his cheek, feeling a bit of stubble in his face. “You look tired, my love.”

Spencer smiles, wrapping his arms around your back, pulling you into his chest. “Not too tired to finish.”

You laugh, kissing him softly. “No? You can go all night? Multiple times?” You teasingly question.

“We can test that theory tomorrow. But right now, we have 3 weeks worth of tension we need to work out.”

“Can I ride you?” You ask.

“Be my guest. I like the view.” He smirks, laying back down against the mattress, his hands gripping both of your thighs.

You get into position, holding his cock steady while you lower yourself down slowly.

Spencer rolls his head back on the pillow, grunting loudly as he feels your tightness around himself. His hands move up your thighs and under your outfit to your hips, gripping them tightly.

You rest your hands on his chest to keep balance, slowly starting to rock your hips against him. Your eyes stay glued to him, watching how his lips were parted and light moans were falling from him. “Do you like that?”

Spencer nods his head, his eyes focusing on your chest bouncing up and down in rhythm of your movements on him. He was trying to focus on anything else in the world to prevent himself from cumming too early.

“Tsk, tsk… words baby.” You tease, scratching his chest with your nails. “You never don’t know what to say.”

“It’s cute when you try to be the one in control.”

“I know I’m cute. You tell me quite often.” You retort with a wide grin.

Your comment earns a laugh from him, playfully rolling his eyes at you. Spencer begins to buck his hips up quickly, taking you by surprise. His fingers move the straps down your shoulders, helping you move your arms out of the straps as you continue to move on top of him. He moves the top half of your outfit down under your chest, his hands like magnets and begins massaging your breasts.

“Fuck, daddy,” You whimper, holding his forearms as he fucks into you. “That’s so good, you’re so good.”

Spencer sits up, letting you take control again. His thumb finds your clit, starting to rub it slowly, his soft brown eyes watching you melt into his touch.

Your eyes roll into the back of your skull, small whimpers leaving your mouth. You lean your body forward and nuzzle your head into Spencer’s neck. You start to kiss his pale skin, raking your teeth against it.

“Mmm, fuck.” Spencer moans out, applying more pressure to your clit as he feels a small pinch on his neck. “You going to cum for me again, pretty girl?”

“Not yet.” You whine in his ear.

“I’m going to move you. I want to fuck you.” Spencer says, moving your body off of his, earning a whine from you as his cock leaves you. “Bend over for daddy.” He says, helping you lay flat on the mattress while your butt is in the air, facing him. “Mmm, you’re so pretty, my girl.” He says in a low voice, both of his hands kneading your ass.

You whine pathetically, pressing yourself against him. “Daddy, please.”

Spencer smiles, grabbing his cock and slowly sliding back inside you. “It’s cute when you try to take control, but even cuter when you’re a whiny mess.” His hand grips the back of your outfit to hold onto as he fucks you from behind. This was his absolute favorite way to have you because of how hard he could slam into you, but the reaction you gave was even better.

Your hand finds his wrist and holds onto it as he  thrusts into your dripping pussy. He could feel how you were coating his cock every time he drew himself back out of you. “I love your cock.” You mutter out.

“This is your cock, baby. You take it so fucking well.” He grunts out, now struggling to keep from exploding. Anytime you fully submitted to him, he was done for.

You had such a strong personality outside of the bedroom that most people wouldn’t believe you were submissive 9 times out of 10.

“Am I your good girl for taking you so well?” You question, looking behind you to look at Spencer with innocent eyes.

His heart and cock fluttered at both your question and your eyes, you always played the innocent card so well. He grabs all of your hair in his hand and gently pulls it back toward him, making you whimper again. “You’re always a good girl for me, my love.” He responds. “Such. A. Good. Girl.” He thrusts into you harshly with each word.

You start to rub your own clit, bringing your second orgasm to the surface for the second time tonight. “You’re going to make me-fuck-me cum. Don’t stop, please don’t stop, daddy.” You were gasping as you spoke, desperate for your release.

“Cum for me, let go my girl.” Spencer says, taking over for your fingers to help bring you to your height. He rubs you quickly, trying not to lose it before you.

Finally you feel your walls clench around his cock, both of you moaning loudly. You moan Spencer’s name along with multiple curse words as he continues to rutt into your sensitive hole.

Spencer pulls out quickly, rubbing himself as he feels his own climax coming to a head.

“No, come back. Put it back in me, please.” You whine, reaching behind you to find Spencer’s cock and lead it back into you.

“You want me to cum in you? You want it inside you?” Spencer groans, seconds away from losing it.

“Please. Cum in me, Spence.” You beg, meeting his thrusts.

Spencer thrusts one last time before he spills himself inside of you, his grip on your hips squeezing as you slowly stop throwing your hips back against him. “Fuck, you’re so good.” He whispers, his eyes shutting as he feels the tip of his cock tingle.

Both of you stay in place as you try to regain your composure. You can already feel your eyes flutter closed, heavy from being tired. Spencer finally pulls out of you, making you hiss and lay flat on the bed.

“Baby, come on, we gotta go clean you up.”

“No.” You whine, closing your eyes again.

“You need to use the bathroom and clean yourself up. We have this conversation every time you’re too tired to get up. Come here, I’ll help you.”

You poke your bottom lip out into a pout as you reluctantly get out of bed, holding Spencer’s hand as you walk into your bathroom together. He helps clean the mess inside you up with a wet towel before leaving you alone to use the toilet.

Once you’re all settled, you walk back into the bedroom, finding Spencer getting the bed ready for both of you to lay down. You wrap your arms around his waist and hug him from behind tightly. Spencer happily hums, reaching behind himself to touch your arm.

“I love you.” You say, giving him a squeeze.

“And I love you.” He says, pulling you around to give you a kiss on the lips. “Do you want to sleep?”

You nod your head, climbing into bed first and getting comfortable right away as you watch Spencer slide in next to you, laying on his side to face you.

You grin ear to ear, kissing his chin. “Hi baby.”

“Hi pretty girl. You good?” He questions, lightly touching your cheek. You lean into his touch and nod. “I’m perfect.”

Spencer brings you into his chest, his fingers rubbing small circles into your shoulder. “Yeah, you are perfect.”

[helloalycia]

my patient’s neighbour [four] // wanda maximoff

summary: taking Wanda to meet your parents wasn't the best decision in hindsight...

warning/s: none i don't think?

author's note: i’m not sure what to say other than sorry in advance oops

part one | part two | part three | part five | part six | part seven | masterlist | wattpad

The restaurant my parents chose wasn't too flashy but rather comforting and homely, with an Italian theme and matching cuisine. It was bustling with people, but it didn't take long for Wanda and I to find my parents sat at the back waiting for us.

"You gonna be okay?" I asked, glancing at her with a comforting squeeze of the hand.

"I've got you, haven't I?" she asked playfully, her accent thicker than usual as she spoke. And though she was joking, I knew there was truth to her words which sent the butterflies in my stomach into a frenzy.

"You're cute," I said with adoration, appreciating how lovely her eyes looked in the dimly-lit restaurant. "Come on."

Hand in hand, we approached my parents' table and I had hopes that tonight would go well. My parents weren't exactly intimidating – at least anyone I'd ever known hadn't got that impression – but I still worried for Wanda. Unlike her, I couldn't read minds, so I couldn't tell if she was actually looking forward to tonight or if she was just doing it for me.

"Y/N, you're here!" my mum exclaimed with a grin when she spotted me.

"I am," I said with a nervous smile, before motioning to Wanda. "And so is Wanda, my girlfriend."

"Yes, Y/N mentioned you would be coming," my mum said with a friendly smile, looking to Wanda, before motioning to the table. "Please, sit, sit."

I squeezed Wanda's hand gently before pulling out a chair for her. She smiled at me appreciatively before I took a seat beside her, facing my parents.

"It's nice to finally meet you, Wanda," my dad said with a nod. "Y/N mentioned you plenty of times when we'd call to catch up with her."

"You, too," Wanda spoke politely. "Both of you. Y/N told me that you're travelling the world, is that right?"

I leaned on my hand and glanced at Wanda, who shot me a mischievous smile. Quirking a brow, I mentally applauded her. Getting my parents to talk about their travels was an easy way of bonding with them – they would tell every server and customer in this restaurant about their travelling if they could. She'd cracked them instantly.

I'm just that good, milashka (cutie).

Trying not to laugh as her words echoed in my mind because of her powers, I leaned back into my seat and listened in as my parents went into a ramble about their ongoing adventures. This was pretty much how the rest of the evening went, as the four of us dined on expensive wine and delicious pizza. They seemed to be getting along well, with Wanda asking all the right questions and giving them her picture-perfect smile that impressed all the elders. Heck, she was even impressing me.

Naively, I appreciated how well the evening was going until my parents decided to talk to Wanda about her career.

"So, Y/N mentioned you're one of those Revengers," my mum remembered as we ate.

"Avengers," I corrected her, mildly embarrassed.

Wanda chuckled, glancing at me, before nodding. "Yes, I am. For over a year now, I've been working with them."

"Them being Iron Man, Captain America, the Black Widow...?" my dad asked, looking up as if trying to remember the rest, further embarrassing me.

"Those are the ones," Wanda quipped with a nod.

My mum hummed in response as my dad nodded before leaning back in his seat and eyeing Wanda curiously.

"I can't imagine your job is the safest," he began. "You protect people from threats, right? Keep them safe."

Wanda seemed caught off guard, but recovered quickly. "It's got it's... dangers, yes. But I can handle myself. I've got powers and I know how to use them."

"You do," my dad agreed, before his eyes flickered to me briefly. "But Y/N doesn't. She's just a regular human."

I set my fork down on my plate and looked to him calmly. "Dad, what are you saying?"

"No, it's fine," Wanda said reassuringly, resting her hand on my leg under the table. I grabbed it and held it as she continued to speak to my father. "Y/N doesn't have powers, you are correct."

"And dating an Avenger, I can imagine, must put a huge target on her back," he said with concern, and my mum nodded in agreement. "How can we be certain that she is safe?"

"Dad!"

"Your father is right, Y/N," my mum said, giving me a look, before her expression softened as she looked to a startled Wanda. "We're not implying that you're incapable, Wanda. We can clearly see that you care about our daughter. And you're a lovely person. You're pretty much perfect."

Wanda swallowed hard. "But?"

My mother frowned. "But dating you is bound to put our Y/N in danger. She could get hurt just for being involved with you, with your friends. She doesn't have powers to protect herself. And I can't imagine you're around her all the time to keep her safe."

As angry as I was at my parents for saying this stuff – even if they were saying it out of love – memories of the incident flashed to mind. They were right, but it was a risk I'd accepted when dating Wanda. What good was it doing by bringing this up now?

Noticing Wanda's silence, I spoke up instead. "I appreciate your concern, guys, but I'm an adult. I understand the danger I may be put in by being with Wanda. But I love her and I know that she is here for me if anything were to ever happen."

"We know," my father said, giving me a small nod. "We just thought we'd share our opinion anyway. It's been weighing on us for a while is all."

I sighed quietly. I couldn't exactly fault them for that.

"Anyway, never mind that," my mum said, setting down her fork. "Now that we've got that out the way, let's order some dessert, yeah? Our treat."

Nodding, I let my parents get excited as they perused the dessert menus before them. Instead, I looked to the quiet brunette beside me and saw how lost in thought she was, eyes focused on the table and stuck in a daydream.

With the hand that was holding hers, I patted her hand with my thumb to earn her attention. She looked up suddenly, questioning gaze falling to me. I frowned and quirked a brow, wondering if she was okay. She forced a smile my way, squeezing my hand reassuringly, but I didn't believe her. I also couldn't question it right in front of my parents, so I decided to speak with her later.

Dessert went by quickly as Wanda, suddenly, wasn't very talkative. I didn't know if my parents noticed, but I sure did and I felt extremely guilty. If I had known of my parents' concerns, I never would have brought Wanda to meet them tonight.

After the evening came to a close and we all stepped out of the restaurant, I expected to be going home with my parents since we lived together, but they claimed they had more plans together tonight.

"Wow, you guys have more of a social life than we do," I joked when they told me to make my own way home.

Wanda barely smiled and I felt bad.

"We'll be back in a few hours," my mum promised, before pulling me in for a hug. "Tonight was fun. A great final night before we leave tomorrow."

I returned the hug and as I gave my dad one, I heard Wanda thanking my mum for the lovely evening halfheartedly. After saying our final goodbyes, Wanda led me to her car in silence, giving me time to try and put some jumbled thoughts together coherently.

As she had been for the past hour, Wanda was quiet on the drive back to my place. Whenever I would glance in her direction, she'd be chewing on her lip and focusing on driving, though the blank expression on her face made me think that maybe she was distracted. It didn't take a genius to know she was thinking about my parents' words and I suddenly felt guilty for putting that all on her.

"I'm sorry," I blurted halfway through the journey. "I'm sorry for what they said. It wasn't fair of them, I know that. They just... they meant well, Wanda, they really did." I tucked my hands under my thighs, wincing as their words echoed in my mind. "It doesn't change anything though, y'know? We're still us. We're still okay. I don't want you to feel like anything's changed because it hasn't."

I paused, swallowing hard, and glanced her way. She didn't even look my way, still in the same position as she was before I started to speak. Looking back to the road ahead, I let out a disappointed sigh, figuring she wasn't in a talking mood. I didn't blame her, but I hoped she would have understood what I meant.

The remainder of the drive was like this, Wanda deep in thought and me huddled under an imaginary blanket of guilt. When we finally reached my house, she turned the engine off and I waited for her to say something, literally anything. Her fingers drummed against the steering wheel mindlessly and I figured she was out of words for tonight.

"I'll ring you in the morning," I mumbled quietly, opening the car door. "If you want to speak, that is."

Leaving her there, I grabbed my bag and headed to the front door, but stopped when I heard her get out the car, too. Waiting, I turned around and watched as she approached me, eyebrows knitted in thought.

"Please say something," I said with pleading eyes.

She licked her lips, biting her lower lip so hard I'm surprised she didn't draw blood. Finally, she released it and looked to me with apologetic eyes.

"Your parents were right," she said.

I blinked with confusion. "What?"

She nodded, looking down at her shoes momentarily. "They were right, what they said. My life puts you in danger."

"Yeah, I know," I agreed, crossing my arms. "I knew that when I got with you, but that doesn't change anything."

She gave a disbelieving smile. "Seriously? Y/N, that changes everything."

"No, it doesn't," I told her sternly, growing frustrated. "This is the stuff you sacrifice when you love someone."

She sighed, shaking her head and looking away. "You shouldn't have to."

"But I chose to," I said, clenching my jaw.

"Don't you remember what happened last time?" she asked, stepping forward and holding my hand. "The incident?"

"We said we wouldn't talk about that," I reminded her with a low voice.

"But you remember, right? When they took you and I wasn't there? They could've hurt you!"

"Shut up!" I told her, raising my voice. Pulling my hand away from hers and taking a step back, I continued, "Why are you saying that? You came! You helped me!"

"But what if they did something to you before I got there?" she snapped. "What if I hadn't got to you on time?"

The memories came spilling into my mind, escaping the locked box I kept them in. Tears burned the corner of my eyes as I tried to think about anything else.

"You remember how scared you were?" Wanda asked, frowning at me with exasperated eyes. "You couldn't be by yourself for weeks!"

"Why are you doing this?!" I yelled, clenching my fists. "Why are you trying to frighten me?!"

"Because you should be frightened!" she retorted, stepping closer to me. Her dark green eyes were swirling storms of rage as she added, "It could happen again!"

I shoved her away from me, pinching the bridge of my nose with annoyance. Tears slipped from my eyes at the terrifying memory of what happened, what could have gone wrong, but I ignored them as I swallowed down the lump in my throat. Why the hell was she acting like this? Making me so angry at her for no reason?

"It's not even just that," she continued, jaw tensed. "How many times do I get hurt because of work and you get worried?"

"That's because I care about you," I muttered through stinging eyes.

"This will always be my life," she said, a hint of regret in her words as she looked to me. "I can't change it."

"I'm not asking you to!"

"Exactly! You're not! Which means you'll suck it up and stay with me and will live your life in constant concern for my well-being. It's not right."

I opened my mouth to respond because what she was saying was entirely stupid. But my emotions got the better of me and no words came out. Instead, my bottom lip quivered as I sucked up a breath.

"I need time to think," she suddenly said, anger disappearing from her voice and being replaced with an astute calmness.

My gaze snapped her way and through blurry vision, I watched her step back with her hands on her hips.

"So you can what – think about breaking up with me?" I said bitterly, and despite my anger, I didn't expect her to look at me with a softened expression, meaning my words were correct.

"Maybe it's better that way, Y/N," she said gently, eyes meeting mine.

I squeezed my hands together and tried to breathe through the pent-up anger that she'd caused, but the longer she stared at me, waiting for a response, the more I wanted to explode.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" I muttered, scrunching my eyebrows together.

She pressed her lips together, looking away, and it only pissed me off more.

"Are you fucking kidding me, Wanda?!" I yelled. "You're quitting on our relationship because, what, you think I'm in danger? Well, news flash, honey, the worst already happened and I'm still here!"

She barely flinched as she avoided my eyes.

"You're a fucking coward!" I said, pointing at her. "If you needed an excuse to end things, you could have just said so!"

Breathing out, I wiped my tears away shakily. I expected her to argue back, to realise she'd made a mistake and regretted her words, but as I waited, I knew she was certain of her decision.

"Fine," I settled, brimming with rage. "Fuck off, Wanda."

Still, nothing.

Turning on my heel, I stormed to my front door and went through my keys with difficulty, hands shaking with anger. I heard Wanda's car door shut from behind me but didn't bother turning around. I clearly didn't need to as I heard the tyres screech against the road and knew she was gone.

Kicking my door with frustration, I found the key and opened up before heading inside and slamming the door behind me. How dare she break up with me because of something that I chose off my own back! She just gave up like we meant nothing to her, not even bothering to talk things out with me! And selfishly, she left me feeling pissed and resenting her more than I ever thought I would.

"What a bitch!" I shouted into the empty house, throwing my keys to the side harshly.

When they clinked against glass, I looked up and saw the vase of flowers Wanda had given me before dinner.

"The first and fucking last," I said dryly, before grabbing ahold of it and throwing it against the wall without thinking.

The glass shattered on impact, leaving a mess of water, flowers and small shards on the wooden floor. I looked at it, the brokenness resembling how my heart felt. As the adrenaline of my actions and previous angry words wore off, all that was left was hurt and pain and oh God, Wanda was gone. She'd left me. She'd given up.

I sank to the floor, pulling my legs up to my chest, and hugged them tightly. Stifling my cries, I dug myself into my knees and felt a pain in my heart. Why didn't she fight for us? Did she not love me enough? Was I not enough?

—

"You ignored the memes I sent you, I thought you died."

As Natasha pushed right past me and into my house, I blinked with disbelief.

"Sure, come right in," I mumbled sarcastically, closing the front door.

Following after Natasha, I found her making herself at home in the living room, plonking herself on the couch and pulling her feet up comfortably.

"You could have sent an emoji or something," she continued, giving me a knowing look. "They were some good memes."

"Well, forgive me if I wasn't in the mood," I said sourly, joining her on the couch.

Her playful smile faded as she picked up on my words. "How are you doing, sweetie?"

I ran a hand through my hair and leaned my elbow on the back of the couch, getting comfortable. It had been two weeks since Wanda broke up with me and in those two weeks, I hadn't been doing particularly well. I guess you could say I was still in a slump. A horrible, tiresome, angry, sadness-filled slump.

"I'm fine."

She pursed her lips, looking like she wanted to argue, but thankfully, she didn't. I was glad – the last thing I wanted was to prove that I was okay when, really, all I wanted to do was curl in a ball and suffocate under my duvet.

"I'm sorry," she said, resting her hand on mine. "If it's any consolation, I think Wanda made a huge mistake."

"Ah, so she told you," I said with a nod of realisation. I hadn't told Natasha the specifics of why we broke up, but clearly Wanda did. I guess it made sense – they were teammates. If anything, I was surprised Natasha still wanted to speak to me, instead expecting her to side with her friend.

"She did," Natasha answered. "And I think she's an idiot, but that's not my business. I just came here to make sure you were okay."

"Really? I thought you wanted to show me the memes," I said jokingly, trying to lighten the mood with a small smile.

She chuckled, slapping my hand gently. "That, too... but seriously."

My smile faded as I looked down, my finger playing with my trousers distractedly. "I'm not okay, but I'll get there." I began to glare at my trousers, my anger for the witch returning. "I have to be. Because she doesn't want me anymore... fuck her."

"I'd rather not," Natasha mumbled.

Though my anger was present, making me tense like it had been the last few weeks, I couldn't help but smile at Natasha's words. Then laughter bubbled from my lips and for the first time since Wanda left, I felt momentarily happy.

"I'm glad we can still be friends," Natasha said, making me look to her with a smile. "I know that you and Wanda are over now... but I still like hanging out with you."

"Me, too," I said in agreement. "Thanks for coming to check in. You didn't have to."

"Yeah, I did." She nodded before offering me a small, encouraging smile. "You're gonna be okay, y'know."

I wanted to believe her, but despite how pissed I was at Wanda, I still loved her. And I couldn't imagine stopping, though I knew I'd have to if I was to make it through this.

—

Getting over Wanda was a difficult process. Everything I felt was a mixture of resentment, exhaustion and misery because I missed her. I missed being able to call her when I saw somebody do something stupid in public; I missed kissing her when I hadn't seen her in a long time; I missed hearing her adorable accent first thing when I woke up after she spent the night; I missed her.

Two months followed the breakup and the only time I'd see her was when she'd dodge Anna's apartment upon knowing I was going to take care of her. I guess I was glad in that sense, as it meant I wouldn't have to deal with her awkwardly. But it also made me feel like shit because it meant she didn't care about me at all. Clearly our breakup wasn't affecting her like it did with me.

And it was definitely affecting me.

I was scrolling through Instagram one day when I saw a particular post on my feed from Natasha's account. Yeah, one of the Avengers had a private Instagram account. She gave me her username when she saw me on it one day and I remember being so confused to how she had it.

"I'm an Avenger, not a hermit," was her response, and from that day onwards, we followed each other.

So, I saw a post on her Instagram and it was some goofy photo of her, Tony, Bruce and Wanda. They were posing with exaggerated smiles as Natasha grinned up front; the caption said something about working long days, but I wasn't paying much attention as, naturally, my gaze fell to Wanda.

Just like everyone else, she had a playful, exaggerated smile on her lips like nothing kept her down, but what stood out was the sling around her arm and the cast underneath. It must have happened in a mission or something and it wasn't my business, but I couldn't help but worry. Was she okay? Was she looking after herself? I wanted to text Natasha and ask, but I stopped myself.

She'd broken up with me for this very reason. I wasn't agreeing with it, but for a second, I did see why she'd made her point. It still wasn't fair though. She didn't get to make that choice for me.

We weren't together anymore, I reminded myself. She broke up with me. It had been two months and I needed to let go. If she didn't care about me, why should I waste my time and energy caring about her?

Not letting it get to me anymore, I simply liked the post before continuing my scrolling. Though I knew that deep down, her face was imprinted in my mind and I still worried for her well-being.

—

The fourth month following our breakup was when I properly saw Wanda again, excluding the times she would duck out of Anna's apartment upon my arrival to care for her. It was also the first time since the breakup that Wanda made the effort to speak to me.

I was sat eating dinner on my day off when I got a call from the hospital nearby, interrupting my meal. The nurse was explaining how Anna had fallen over and hurt her back and was now in a hospital room. She was calling me because she thought I'd like to know since I was her registered nurse and carer. I was glad to get the call, immediately pulling my shoes and coat on and rushing over there to make sure she was okay. She didn't have anyone else apart from Wanda and I – it was no question I had to go.

Though, of course, I didn't really think about the fact that Wanda may be there until I saw her there. I also didn't consider the fact that I was wearing my pyjamas when I stepped in the lift and headed to Anna's floor. Too late now.

After asking the receptionist where Anna's room was, I found Wanda hanging around it outside the door. With only Anna on my mind, I approached her and tried to hide my panic. She spotted me instantly, stopping her pacing and looking to me with tired eyes and a frown on her face.

I didn't care that she looked worried, nor that she was holding up well since we last spoke in anger. I didn't care that she'd dyed her hair a reddish-brown colour, nor that she managed to pull off both that and the whole 'loungewear' look in a place surrounded by blinding white and blue. I didn't care that my heart ached when her green eyes found mine, nor that I missed seeing her so close and not in my dreams for once. I didn't care about any of it. Or, at least, I tried to tell myself that.

"What happened?" I cut straight to the point, stopping in front of her. "Is Anna okay?"

Wanda nodded instantly. "She's fine. She tripped over her dining room chair and hurt her back. The doctors just checked her out and said it's nothing too serious, but she won't be able to walk for a while."

I pressed my lips together, feeling the panic wear off at the sound of good news. Anna had always been more than just a patient to me and the last thing I wanted was to hear she'd hurt herself badly.

"Can I see her?" I asked Wanda, quirking a brow.

"Yeah, of course," Wanda said, before looking away awkwardly. "I was just waiting out here for you. The nurse said you were coming."

I chose to say nothing as I walked past her and into Anna's room, seeing the older woman laying on a hospital bed and staring at the ceiling. When she noticed my presence, she smiled at me and motioned for me to join her side.

"It's so good to see you, milaya (sweetie)," she said happily, as I stopped by her side, "but you didn't have to come! I'm not dying."

I heard Wanda enter the room behind me, but she took a seat on the chairs opposite the bed. Ignoring her, I smiled down at Anna and grabbed her hand.

"Don't say that," I told her gently. "Of course I'm here. You're my number one priority. I had to make sure you were okay!"

Anna waved her hand in typical Anna fashion. "I've suffered worse. I'm absolutely fine."

I knew it was best not to question her, so I didn't.

"I'm glad you're both here," she said, looking between Wanda and I, making me swallow awkwardly.

Since breaking up, I hadn't mentioned it to Anna, but she wasn't stupid and she'd clearly noticed that we weren't spending time together anymore. I didn't know if Wanda had told her, but if she had, Anna never mentioned anything. Like now, she simply looked between us both with a grateful smile, unaware of how awkward we felt.

Thankfully, the awkward silence was interrupted when a doctor walked in the room. After introducing herself, I asked if I could speak to her outside about Anna and she happily obliged. She told me about Anna's condition and how it would affect the way I cared for her, especially regarding her new medication, and I asked anything and everything to make sure she was truly okay. After being reassured that she was, I thanked the doctor and returned to Anna's room, only to find Wanda and Anna in a heated a argument.

I couldn't tell what had got them so fussy as they were bickering in Russian, sentences too fast for me to comprehend with my limited knowledge of the language. It got to a point where Anna began slapping Wanda on the arm, looking angrier than ever, so I stepped between them and pulled Wanda away.

"What the hell is going on here?" I interrupted, holding Anna's slapping hand down to the bed and raising a hand to keep Wanda at bay. I looked between them, seeing the frustration in both their expressions, and asked questioningly, "Well?"

Wanda said nothing, eyes avoiding mine as usual, so I looked down to Anna who was glancing between us before spouting off into another ramble in Russian, trying to grab Wanda so she could yell at her directly. To my annoyance, Wanda tried to push past me, yelling back, and I was unfortunately caught in the middle as I attempted to keep them from ripping each other's throats out.

Thankfully, their bickering came to a halt when an unknown voice called into the room: "What is going on in here?"

I looked to the door, following the mystery voice, and saw a young woman, maybe in her thirties, standing in the doorway and looking between the three of us with confusion. I had no idea who she was, though she seemed familiar. Judging from the confusion Wanda had, she didn't seem to know either.

"Sasha," Anna breathed out with surprise, and then I realised. That was Anna's granddaughter. "What are you doing here?"

[i-am-the-ass-admiral]

unspoken language

benny miller x gn!reader

wordcount: ~1.1k

tags: fluff, benny hand appreciate post, schmoop, benny’s a little shy, mild language, some innuendo at first, touching, first kiss

Music linked for the vibe

--

The thought occurs to you at Frankie’s barbecue and once it has you it shakes you down to your boots. Benny passes you a drink with a wide smile and chilled fingertips linger on yours and something in your lizard brain just goes, 

hhhaaaannnndddsss…

And the thought stays firmly planted back in your mind. Along with several others that range from lewd to longing. Let’s face it, Benny has amazing hands. They’re not out of proportion to his body but he’s a big guy and he has the hands to match. Digits long, knuckles scarred here and there, his palms and the bellies of his fingers thick with callused skin. You don’t know why you hadn’t really thought of it before. Maybe it has something to do with how his laugh pulls one out of your, or how his blue eyes light bright in the fire and make your stomach flip.

Yeah, it might have something to do with that. You’ve certainly thought about the rest of him.

You just want to watch him just…do things. You wonder, how do those hands look when he’s driving? Thumbs tapping the steering wheel along with his favorite song. Or in the garden with you maybe. On his knees turning over the earth, skin covered with a light sheen of sweat that mixes with the scent of soil visceral and heady, hands dark and gentle. Ohh, fuck, cooking. Dipping a long finger in a sauce from the family cookbook and curling his tongue around it to taste? Hell, maybe he’d let you have a taste… 

Or spread those big hands all over you…

Obviously, your imagination is a problem. 

You want—does he want? You’ve just made excuses to not ask. One tipsy taco night and a few coffee dates do not an attraction make. Without your knowledge, he’s been waiting. Patient and sure for the right moment. He’s not patient unless it’s a fight—and going toe to toe with you like this exhilarates him in the same way. You’re not trying to fall as hard as you are but Benny’s never been one to back down from a challenge. You watch him—you lie to yourself and say you’re not watching—and you see him see you watch. It gets even worse—he’s well past your defenses now—side by side in front of the bonfire. 

“I keep thinkin’,” he says, voice tinged with a drawl, “about you an’ me.”

Oh god, there’s a smile hiding in the corner of his mouth, barely more than a lift of his lip and it draws you in almost as much as his words. “Yeah?” 

He’s trying so hard to be serious but his hands steer the conversation way before his mouth does. One sneaks around yours, tangles your fingers together and steals your breath.

“I think we’d be good together—” He leans close so the others can’t hear, cheeks bitten red—is it the autumn chill? Or something else? “—when we’re alone together.”

“We’re not alone right now,” you manage, trying to keep some distance before you fall and never resurface. “But we’re still good, right?”

Fingertips stroke the space between your knuckles and wordlessly draw you, invite you closer. From the corner of your eye, you see Will and Santiago with their heads put together. Distantly, you wonder what they see. Benny’s gazes flickers down to your mouth, caught on the swell of your bottom lip for a long moment before those eyes burn you under the shade of long, pretty lashes. 

“Yeah. ‘Course we’re good. But that ain’t really what I mean.”

You’re terrified to ask but, “What do you mean?” A beat of silence. “Spill it.”

His thumb slips from your palm to the soft skin on the inside of your wrist. Back and forth, back and forth with that kind of restless energy that only Benny can channel. Questioning. That much you know. Asking something you can’t yet understand, why keep your distance Oblivious, you squeeze his hand the same time you bump him with your shoulder as he teases, 

“You just like hearin’ me talk.”

“…maybe.”

Also true, not that Benny needs to know that. You’re sure he’ll figure it out in time anyway. Under his goofy exterior are sharp teeth and a sharper mind. No escape once he sets himself to the task, as many of his ringside opponents could attest. But he’s never been good at talking the right way. More often than not his mouth just managed to get him in more trouble so he’s let his hands do the talking for him for years. A kind of unspoken language all his own. Asking him for this is harder than you realize.

“Sometimes,” he tries, “words ain’t so good. You can say a helluva lot without words if you know where to look.”

Reaching for something, you ask, “That how you win all your fights?”

“Damn right,” he smirks.

“You read me well, Miller,” you admit, pretending you’re not breathless. “Probably better than I read myself. Wish I could do that. But I like you best when you use your words.”

“Like me, huh?”

His tone teases again but not nearly as much as his hands that turn yours palm-up and trace the length of each digit slow and steady. It feels like having his finger on the trigger again and reflexively he takes a deep breath to steady his pulse. 

Then you say, “Of course I like you,” and his heart trips anyway.

Benny’s drawn in to you as much as you are to him. He leans into your space, knees bumping yours. Christ, he’s somehow managed to bracket you in. Trap your legs between his with how he’s splayed beside you. It’s intimate in a way neither of you expected. The question now is, who will fall first? 

Benny sighs.

Time to take point.

He rests your shared hands over a thick thigh but for the first time, he finds he can’t hold your gaze. 

“I like you best,” he murmurs, “when there’s no one else. Just you an’ me, only on our own.”

Oh. Oh, that’s… 

You hadn’t dared to hope despite how much you wanted. 

“Just you and me?” 

He looks back up. Nods. His fingers curls around your hand and his thumb presses to the center of your palm; silent entreaty—please. Can we be? Eyes wide and drowning you in firelit blue, he’s asking. How could you say no? You swallow hard. Maybe you can say something back that Benny would understand. You extricate your fingers and for a moment his face falls, but then you cover his large hand with one of your own. Pinch his chin with the other. Draw him in until he’s no more than a breath away and just before he closes the gap for a kiss, you have to agree,

“I think we’d be good, too.”

[shadowworks]

Look Inside

Pairing: Overhaul X Reader

Warnings: Dubcon-noncon, medical kink, drugged sex, mention of needles, mentions of blood, bondage, fingering, this is dark! 

Word Count: 3.8k 

A/N: I decided to try some creepy themes and give second person a try. So we’ll see how it goes. This piece is dark so please mind the warnings!

Huge shoutout to @present-mel for making the beautiful banner and reading over my fic you precious gem! Also thank you @thisisthehardestthing and @hisoknen for your feedback it’s so greatly appreciated! 💜

Someone had shut off the lights in the morgue. 

You happen to notice this when your eyes toil lazily between security cameras at the right time. You freeze on the spot, and quirk a brow toward the shadow. You expect it’ll brighten any second like it usually does, but after those few seconds tick by without change, a weight of dread sinks in your stomach.

Kai Chisaki put orders in place that if experiments are up and running the basement levels are to remain lit. Chisaki and his men are already down below, and the winding pale halls near the morgue are empty.

 You haven’t been called to notify cleaners about another bloody corpse still peeling off the wall, and you can’t find motion on the surveillance camera when you rewind the recordings. It’s in the lower right corner of the camera, and you note the light flicks off without warning. No one enters, no one leaves. 

You study the harsh glow of the screen for another moment, still in denial, still waiting for the lights to flicker on, and stand up from the chair in the office. When not a soul appears by the threshold, all you can do is lean forward with your hands pressed on the desk, dropping your head in defeat. “Seriously? Fuck you.” 

You don’t know who “you” was exactly, but it felt right to say. 

It takes a bit of time after departing the small office, but you find the proper hall in Chisaki’s deeply looping maze...It’s just you don’t want to step out from the elevator. You were ready before, but when the doors split open and the cool air ghosts against your cheeks, you pause. There’s a stillness lingering in the hallway; it’s far too quiet- except for the creaks in the elevator floor from your shifting weight...But, something seems off. 

  Your steps are tentative when you do slip out, peering down the drab hallway. You clearly see which of the rooms is buried in shadow, and frankly you want to whirl back around before the doors close. But you can’t, well, not yet at least. The tap of your shoes hits off the walls, while you tread along on stiff legs. Eventually you come to a stop having reached the doorway. It’s partly open, a slice of darkness hiding what’s deep inside. 

Hold on, this can't be right. The camera— A shudder trails up your spine. It tingles coldly.

You inhale a deep breath. Okay, just do it; just switch the lights back on, it’s fine. It’s fine. Besides, if it were you (which it is) you wouldn’t want to deal with Chisaki’s ill temper over something so minor as a light. 

He’s punished his men for incompetence before, and those who didn’t listen have smeared the walls with their blood, drenching vein red across white. Black-looking goops of muscle plopped on the floor...the consequences ranged based on severity of failure or how stressed he is, really. In fact, one man had the skin of his face torn off for talking back—wait, relax. Focus

It won’t happen. Kai Chisaki is somewhere else in the maze. He’s not aware of what happened.

There’s a member with a quirk which lets him melt through walls; the tiny one with a bone white mask. He probably slipped between the rooms and grabbed something then turned the lights off. But that didn’t explain the door...

It doesn’t matter.

You stretch an arm out, gently pushing the door further open, and light spills onto the tile floor. 

It’s a cold, vacant room. There’s a pungent scent of bleach still lingering from a cleanup, but it hits your nose almost like it happened recently. You can’t see much nor do you want to. And your hand reaches around the door frame, trailing gentle fingers along the smooth surface for a switch—

Only, there’s nothing on the wall. 

“Are you serious? Really?” you huff to yourself, stepping round to search for the light. Sure enough, your fears are realized with one look. 

You let out an annoyed groan, and a, ‘stupid switch’ under your breath. Who the hell designs a room and doesn’t put a switch by the door? 

Your eyes haven’t adjusted to the dark, so you can’t see the precise details on the walls. So this leaves you no choice but to step further in, allowing the brightness from the hall to guide you along.

It’s a moderate room with a vaulted wall filled with metal drawers, all large enough to fit an icy corpse in ‘til the yakuza dispose of them. Then there’s the silver surgical table in the middle of the room. It's empty, but the thing’s embellished. There’s protruding belts attached, and a tray on wheels is parked on the side. On top of the tray is a clean towel and a neat row of surgical tools lay flat across. 

Your brows scrunch together, studying the sharp gleam of knives and the sizes of needles. Why are these out? Kai’s an obsessive clean freak, every little thing needs to be put back and organized. All his masked cronies know this rule, so who the hell did this? That is, unless someone’s using them?

Your back is turned to the glow seeping in from the hall, so you don’t see a gloved hand press on the metal door. There’s a push, and the door slams shut. 

You let out a startled yelp, cupping your hands to your mouth. What the hell…! Your heart’s pounding wildly in your chest; for some reason the room feels colder, you feel colder. 

“I must say this is disappointing.”

Light floods the room from the panels above, flickering with a buzzing noise before they settle. You take a moment. A deep breath, a slow exhale. When the initial shock stops tingling in your muscles, you slowly drop your palms. The voice is male, his tone’s calm, ominous and it carries like chill over your shoulder. You know this voice; you know you have to turn around. But fuck, you can’t stop trembling. When you do, you see a tall figure looming near the wall, a gloved hand still on the switch.

Kai Chisaki. 

“I told Setsuno I needed him in the security room. Do you think it’s hard for him to follow directions?”

You stare at him, anxiously. He isn’t wearing his green coat with the violet plumage trimming on the collar. He’s in his iron pressed, black suit and grey tie; the trademark plague mask covering half his face. 

“Setsuno asked me to fill in. He said he wasn’t feeling well...I guess,” you manage to say it as steady as you can. 

The lanky blond hadn’t given you a clear reason when he staggered towards you near dawn. But if you’re being honest, you didn’t really care.You barely looked his way at breakfast, choosing to stare into your dark coffee cup than at the katana resting on his shoulder. The sword was still wet with blood, and you knew he’d been out all night. Though right now, you sorta wish you pressed him more for details.

Kai mutters something slightly bitter, words that are muffled against the material of his mask. But you hear him sigh, then his tone turns crisper. “No matter. It’s inconvenient, but I can work around these...changes.”

His arm drops to his side, walking from the wall. And unexpectedly- those peculiar eyes you see leering at his enemies, have now fallen on you. 

You seize up in mild panic, the pupils in your eyes shrinking; not knowing what to do. You take a scuffling step or two back on reflex—and knock your hip against the table corner. 

Oww—ow, fuck. Hold on, what’s he doing? Why—Your voice bubbles in your throat as you watch him draw near. Though it’s strange, for Kai doesn’t pull at the rim of his latex glove like expected, rather, the Shie Hassaikai boss happens to steer past you instead. 

...Huh?

Your neck cranes, loose hair spilling over your shoulder. He stops a couple feet away and tilts his head downward in front of the tray, no longer regarding your presence and focusing on his work. 

You stand there awkwardly, just listening to the clinks of metal fitting together in Kai’s grip. You’re not fully understanding though, should you leave? It looks like your job’s finished now that your boss is here. Besides, you’re pretty confident Kai doesn't want you here if he’s occupying the room. 

In the long pause between you two, your mind’s made up which prompts you to retreat back and aim towards the door. They’re slow, careful moving steps. 

“Well, you seem busy...I should probably hurry back and watch the cameras,'' you say dismissing yourself. You’re partial toward the comfort of the smaller office, and any chance you have of leaving the macabre storage space you will eagerly take it. 

You don’t make it to the gleaming doorknob—because Kai’s voice holds you still. It isn’t loud, but it grips the room. “No stay. There’s no need for you to leave so soon.”

A mix of fear and confusion read across your features. Kai has never spent a moment alone with you. In fact, you aren’t actually part of the yakuza. The only reason you’re associated with the fallen crime syndicate, is because the former boss offered you odd jobs as a favor. You needed some work to keep from struggling and he had taken a liking to you, sort of how he did with Kai. But then, the leader collapsed. 

Now you aren't sure where you stand. Chisaki is in charge.

“I believe there’s something you can do for me. Will you have a seat on the table?” 

You aren’t sure if you heard him right, or fully grasp what he means. He says it so casually-  but you know better; it’s a demand. You’re just not sure why.

“I’m fine. Really. I should be going-“

“Are you defying my order?” Again, he says it so nonchalantly. This time Kai turns his head over his shoulder; the look he gives is almost impassive, yet there’s a menacing gleam in the yellow of his eyes.

“What? No, I was…! Right.”

You don’t exactly drag your feet, but you do stand hesitant before the edge of the table where countless bodies have been dissected. So much blood, so many organs harvested on this very table.

“I won’t ask you again.” 

You turn around robotically, eyes pointed downward as you hoist your hips onto the metal. The table’s surface is icy, it numbs your fingers the longer you lean on it, which only makes you fold them against your thighs. 

“Roll up your sleeve.” Kai says by your right, holding up a purple band. Your gaze flicks up immediately, nervously, a silent plea for mercy. As if somehow your glossy and delicate eyes will make a difference. But it does nothing toward Kai’s stoic stance. He simply waits, and his own steely eyes narrow back.

You drop your head with a wince; just do as he says. 

You comply, pushing up your long sleeve. Though you make a point not to help much more than that, leaving your arm limp at your side. 

Kai doesn’t seem to notice or care and proceeds to wrap the rubber around your arm. You grimace, unpleased as his fingers skim your arm, and again when he brushes you with a wet cotton swab. 

“You need my blood?” You ask evenly. 

His eyes don’t leave your skin, “Not necessarily.”

“A lot of effort for, ‘not necessarily.’” You say, not too dryly. 

“You’ve seen my work before, you should know by now I take great care in everything I do.”

Kai rotates between you and the now rolled over stand, dismissing your light jab. He sets up the port for blood to flow; all in a well practiced motion. It certainly makes you wonder how many times he’s done this before. 

“I’m curious, when was your last doctor's appointment?” He asks suddenly, hands already prepping the next instrument. The other needle probably, but you don’t want to play as his patient. He isn’t your doctor, for fucks sake.

“A while.” You answer. 

“A while,” he repeats with a subtle chuckle under his covered breath,“Has anyone told you before you’re a feisty one?”

You bite your tongue and refuse to meet his side glance. When you don’t reply back, he carries on with a sigh. 

“I’ve had quite a long day you see, so I’m afraid I’ve exhausted my tolerance for stubborn little girls.”

Suddenly, his hand is squeezing your shoulder, and all too quickly you find yourself thumping against the cold metal, your horrified eyes staring up at the bright ceiling. The next thing you feel is buckles fastening, pinning you against the table by your waist and elbows. 

You're flooded with tingling panic, voice cracking from strain, “Hol—Hold on one second. Please, just one more—”

“—You know they say you should never let the lamb see the knife? Their fear tampers the meat, and ruins the flavor,” Kai gives a sharp tug on the last belt. “But I find yours all the more intoxicating, my dear.”

You stammer, words of protest mingle together as you attempt to be heard, “I don’t understand, why are you…Just stop. You need to let me go!”

Your teeth clench together in a rage that fills your chest. You’re not thinking rationally, your nerves are unhinged. And in your adrenaline high your leg curls up, thrashing a viciously blunt strike toward the point of his beak.

 Before it can connect and batter the bridge of his nose and mark his cheekbones, Kai’s arm flexes quickly. Your foot stops mid air as he catches your ankle with constricting force. 

“Do I?” He asks with a title of his head, there're subtle creases in the corner of eyes, you can imagine his mouth settles in a cold smile beneath. 

In that moment you freeze up. Your lash lines burn, stinging with fresh tears glossing your doe eyes. You don’t breathe, you don’t dare to expand your lungs. Your only thought is begging him not to burst open your calf. 

“You shouldn’t be giving commands. You work under me now,” his nails dig in your flesh, and you know those indents will marr your flesh.“Meaning you’ll have to bear with me while I continue.”

Kai doesn’t loosen his hold, briefly watching your pained expression. But he favors dropping his gaze below to study the stretch of your thigh, your exposed and parted groin. It’s then his nimble fingers reach to unclasp the button of your jeans and he gently pulls down the zipper. You cry out, jerking against the belts, but he isn’t fazed. 

“One of our new drugs is supposed to relax its victims...recently it’s been ineffective if the heartbeat’s racing too quickly, though we’ve made modifications to counter this. My plan was to stage a fight with Setsuno, until...you graciously took his place.”

Kai lowers your leg, both hands roaming across to the edge of your jeans. He still studies you, and decides to push up your ribbed sweater, letting the cold bite of the morgue chill your hips. His latex fingers trace lightly across your pebbled skin, skimming down the dips to your thighs. 

“Yes, this will do just fine. You’re pretty enough,” he muses, softly.

He then tucks his hands into your waistband, yanking them down your legs, before they fall to the floor with a plop. The seamless panties slip off easily, as well. This sends a small prickle through you, and, no, this can’t keep going! The fight in you surges, pushing your knees together to shield your groin. Only Kai doesn’t like that. 

There’s something cold and dangerous in his glare, a threat that twists at your stomach. He’s warning you; don’t make this worse for yourself or you’ll make him snap. And you didn’t want that...You watch both his hands clutch your knees, he doesn’t waste time and he yanks your legs apart, taking in your pretty cunt.

Angry tears trickle down your cheeks in response. Your throat burns from holding back a sob, “Chisaki, please. If you would—“

 Without a moment of hesitation, Kai knowingly finds where to touch you first. A little too skillfully for a false doctor, the pad of his thumb presses against your soft, sensitive nub, stroking tight circles with focus. Your breath catches, falling heavier while he sinks his pad deeper in the forming slick, building steady pressure.

“Still so stubborn, what good will that bring you?”

A broken moan spills on your shaky breath, all against your better decisions. His other hand settles between your legs, and a finger plunges inside your heat, curling upward and massaging the rougher layer of flesh. A sharp gasp inhales into your lungs. He isn’t stopping, no, Kai’s gloved finger moves with vigor the more your pleasurably laced cries pour out from your lips, how desperate they become.

He pushes in a second finger, and then a third thrusting in, stretching you and soaking your walls with your arousal. This causes you to push your hips further against his latex hand. 

“Kai, you fucking bastard!” you sob out, formalities be damned as your back arches. You can feel the building pulses in your cunt tense up, losing yourself to your superior on an icy slab in a fucking morgue. 

“You curse my name as though you’re not enjoying this,” Kai mocks.

 His fingers pump deeper, tightening your abs and your lips fall open. His matching rhythm on the bundle of nerves surges in a crash, sending a hard orgasm that shivers through your body. For a moment, just a little moment, your cares fade away. 

You're left breathing deeply, staring up at the ceiling as your chest rises and falls. The euphoria lasts a moment longer, but only for so long. Reality sets in as you lay there, and much too soon, the warmths gone. 

Kai takes advantage of this.

With your chin tipped up toward cabinets lining the ceiling, Kai unfastens his thinner belt. It’s only when you feel him hook under your knees and pull at your thighs that you snap your head up in startlement.

Kai’s venomous eyes stare you down, “I suggest laying back down little girl, we’re not finished yet.”

“Like hell!”

A second flare of rage strickens across your features, a hard glare that doesn’t unyield, especially as he unzips and withdraws himself from formal slacks. You know he’s relishing in your disdain for him, and this makes you thrash on the belts, hoping to force them apart. Of course, Kai did a good job of fastening these fuckers and simply chuckles at your attempt. 

“You’re still not understanding the position that you’re in,” He slips a hand in his pocket, and pulls out the wrapping of a condom. Taking his time, tearing it open, rolling the rubber down his thick length with precision.

 When Kai’s satisfied, his arms reach for you and grab at your hips, giving them a sharp yank forward. He leans in with a darkly low voice, “You can’t escape me. You’re mine to do with as I please.”

“...You lean any closer and I’ll spit in your face.” There isn’t any bite to it. It’s a calm, empty threat and loses all its appeal as a single tear spills down your cheekbone.

A huffing noise emits from his mask, with his lids narrowing in mild disgust. You catch the words “filthy woman,” rasped low and nasally before he does lean back, wrenching at the skin around your hips. 

When he’s all settled Kai lines himself to your heat, in a slow motion he draws himself inside. You almost don't hear it, but from the mask you note a soft hitch in his breath. He gives shallow pushes and pulls on your hips, an experimental dip that splits you in a painful stretch before he pumps fully into you. They’re slow, long strokes, filling you to the brim.

Another strained gasp rips from your wet lips, and your hands impulsively spring out, clenching the black cloth of Kai’s sleeves. His hips snap quicker, and your breath picks up with him. Heart pounding to his thrust; you can feel the beats in your neck. 

And all of a sudden you hear the sound of plastic clasping together, the squeeze of an injection clip the shell of your ear. Your eyes snap open in horror. What—?

Kai locks on your facial features, his deep pumps lessen though the slapping of skin doesn’t stop. “You’ve been too tense. Why don’t you relax for awhile?”

When did he..? 

He prepped it. The syringe must’ve been tucked away. He did have this all planned. You were just the unlucky one who walked to the table and sealed your fate. 

The serum he injected into your bloodstream has fast results it seems. The tension in your muscles slack against his thrusts, allowing him to carry your body closer and take more of his length. You feel the tension in your wide eyes soften, slowly falling half lidded and weak. 

“That’s a good girl, you're taking to the drug faster than I thought,” he muses a little breathless. Right after he sets the syringe back down, a gloved hand reaches for the strap fastened around his head and pulls. The mask slips off.

It’s at this point he hikes his knees up onto the table and pounds in deeper, letting your walls suck him in. Your body’s folded, and Kai treats your body in any way he desires.

You manage to pull your head from his sharp eyes, your cheek bouncing slightly against the icy metal to Kai’s rhythm. The drawers for the deceased are taken in.

You stare intently. 

“You’re going to kill me, aren’t you?”

“No.” He manages between breathes, his voice is heavy and laced with lusting growls, “This is merely a precaution. In the event...ah, in the event you overdose...well. You’re in the right place.”

Your head lolls back to Kai meeting his delicate face which is now flushed. You realize this is the first time you’ve seen him behind the mask. He’s beautiful. Soft featues that compliment him so well. If only he wasn’t so cruel...

“In fact, hah, if you survive...I think this will be the start of something new in my work.” He manages the last bit with a shaky chuckle. 

You see him smirk wickedly, and all you can do is watch, because it doesn’t stop. The only sound in the room is the liquid squish of sex, your mixed heavy breaths. And you hope, god do you hope in your hazy state, feeling a numbness taking hold of your body, that you leave this room alive.

[yongtxt]

turn back time [taeyong]

word count: 6.2k words

characters: amnesiac!taeyong x girlfriend!reader ft. doyoung

genre: angst [meant to be just melancholic so no crying !]

warnings: few mentions of a car crash and some wounds. taeyong suffers from amnesia.  it’s a couple trying to learn how to love again.

author’s note: yesterday was my first year anniversary here on tumblr and i give you a short angst fic of the first nct member i wrote for as a present. anyway. i need a break from angst after this also i need to stop writing people getting hurt/wounded???? [stream turn back time by wayv later <3] / unedited

Taeyong awoke to harsh fluorescent lighting filling his vision, a throat so dry it could compare to a desert, and the muffled cries of his lover.

His arms ached, muscles extremely sore that it hurt him to even lift his limb. He wanted to reach out to you, to run his fingers through your hair, and to tell you that everything was gonna be okay—he would work it out with you, together.

You had Taeyong’s hospital gown clutched in your hands, soaking the fabric with your weeping. WIth your face buried into his blanket, it took you a second to realize that your boyfriend had already woken up from his deep slumber. Your cheeks flushed at his intense gaze, dropping your hold on him almost immediately as if it was hot to touch.

“You’re awake!” You exclaimed, voice cracking. Fumbling to wipe your tears, you scrambled to your feet. “Let me grab some food, okay? You must be hungry.”

Taeyong did his best to shake his head, “No, you don’t have to. Please just stay beside me.”

A beat passed and you could only stare at him. The hesitance you exuded didn’t pass unnoticed, you sat back on the stool beside him and stayed tight-lipped. Taeyong sighed through his nose, a bubble of nervousness growing in the pit of his stomach. He couldn’t even look you in the eye, his attention darting everywhere but to you.

“How are you feeling? Do you think you can move better now?” You asked, soft and wary—afraid of what his response would be and he didn’t like the sound of it not one bit, but he didn’t let it show.

“I can move my head better than yesterday.” Taeyong pointed out, craning his neck enough to prove it to you. You couldn’t help the smile on your face and his chest floods with an unfamiliar warmth. He added, “My joints just hurt since I’m kept on bed rest all day.”

“Well, you’re getting released tomorrow.” You said, subconsciously outstretching your hand to brush off the fallen lock of his hair from his forehead. He blushed at the contact of your fingertips and you immediately retracted it back. “Uh, your doctor wanted me to tell you that you should start walking around again if you can to avoid using crutches.”

“I’ll try to go for a walk tonight.” He nodded his head, staring at his lap as if it was the most fascinating thing in the room. “Can you help me drink some water?”

“I’m sorry, of course.” Your cheeks reddened the same way his were, fumbling to punch in a straw inside a bottle of water as you propped it up for him to sip on. Of course he was thirsty, he had been asleep for almost half the day.

Your fingers were trembling, he noticed. Before he could point it out, the door slammed open and you were forced to draw away his drink. You haven’t been told of anyone visiting so it came as a surprise to see your boyfriend’s childhood best friend panting in the doorway, holding himself up on the frame while he gawked at Taeyong’s wounded form.

Bruises of varying sizes littered across Taeyong’s pale skin and a bandage was wrapped around his forehead, his bleached hair peeking out from the bloodied cloth. A large gash can be seen trailing along his jawline and although it had been healing nicely, a mark remained. He had dark circles under his eyes and his cheeks were sunken from fatigue and a lack of nutritional intake, much like you.

He didn’t look well, Doyoung thought with a pitiful gaze Taeyong was already too familiar with.

“Aren’t you gonna come in?” Taeyong chuckled, grinning at Doyoung who frowned at him. He rushed to his side and mindlessly took him into an embrace, cradling his bandaged head into his shoulder. You felt hot tears pool into the corners of your eyes but you blinked them away before they could see.

He berated him, the way he always would when Taeyong got himself into trouble that could’ve been easily avoided if he would just think straight. The blizzard, Doyoung kept bringing it up, he shouldn’t have driven when the weather was too dangerous.

“I’ll try to remember that next time.” Taeyong said, reassuring him before Doyoung could burst into tears. He wouldn’t know how to handle him if he got too emotional, he doubted you’d be able to.

“Why were you driving, anyway? What was so important that you had to risk your life to travel?” Doyoung huffed and you rose from your seat from instinct, about to insert yourself into their conversation when Taeyong grasped your fingers.

You stared at him and you were suddenly reminded that he must’ve put himself in pain to stop you. You sat back down and he smiled, he wanted to say it himself and you could only respect his wishes. You hadn’t been able to inform Taeyong’s friends about his car crash as it had been only a week since it happened, all of your time was spent tirelessly tending him back to health. You didn’t have the time to share the unfortunate news.

“Apparently, I was on my way back to Seoul from visiting my family.” Taeyong said, gently grazing your skin away from his best friend’s sight. At Doyoung's confused knot on his forehead, he continued, “My mom told me that they couldn’t make me stay because it was the night of my anniversary with my girlfriend.”

“Taeyong, why are you talking like that—”

“The doctor said I hit my head on the steering wheel pretty badly.” Taeyong laughed mirthlessly, and you subconsciously squeezed his hand. “Bad enough that my memory got a bit fuzzy. Retrograde amnesia, I think that’s what they called it.”

Doyoung blinked, lips gaped at Taeyong who only smiled at him. He looked up at you, a sudden onslaught of anxiety coursing through him that you could just see him almost shake in worry. He whispered to you, “Amnesia? How far back can he remember?”

You bit your lip, turning away and loosening the grip you had on Taeyong’s hand, but he held it tighter with a strength you were sure he was only forcing. You said, “The beginning of third year in college.”

“What?!” Doyoung choked on his spit, leaping from his seat in shock. You offered him an unopened bottle of water but he shook his head. “You’re already a working man, Taeyong! We graduated two years ago, man!”

You did your best to calm Doyoung down, much to Taeyong’s appreciation. You knew where his emotions were coming from so you had to explain why it happened in a manner he would understand. You said that the blizzard was so strong that the roads had iced up and due to the speed he was driving, the car had slipped and crashed into a tree. He hit his head and the sheer impact caused trauma to his brain and made him lose his memories.

The doctors diagnosed him with retrograde amnesia, a form of memory loss that occurs from a traumatic brain injury. It prevented Taeyong from remembering what happened prior to his accident. His recovery was supposed to be gradual, it will take time for him to regain the memories he had lost but it wasn’t assured.

Taeyong doesn’t like telling what happened because people’s first reaction to his amnesia was to resort to aggression. As if their anger and frustration could magically make him remember what he had lost. You didn’t think of it that way, on one quiet night you told him that maybe it was just their desperation to bring him back to the person he was.

He thought it was selfish of them, but you kept your lips shut and refused to tell him that losing two years was a big deal to some people. Although he was still himself, quirks and habits are the same as you’ve first witnessed them, little aspects of him were different; some just different enough that others would do a doubletake to make sure it was really him. The person he is now just wasn’t exactly the person he used to be.

A slightly-off Taeyong, he grimly made a joke about.

You wanted to reassure him, comfort him that he didn’t need to try so hard to be who he used to be. You know despite all of his nonchalance and soft smiles, he was hurting. He instilled it in himself that he disappointed his loved ones by being a person they weren’t accustomed to. But you couldn’t, you weren’t in the place to when his last memories of you were when you have only first met during the anthropology class in your third year of college.

“God, that means you can’t even remember your own girlfriend.” Doyoung mumbled, mostly to himself but you heard it clearly enough as if he personally made it a point to stomp on your heart. Taeyong frowned.

“Shut it, Doyoung.” You grumbled, tears threatening to spill again. You and Taeyong have been so emotionally exhausted that having another person in the hospital room usually would lift both of your spirits, but Doyoung proved himself to be a disturbance instead.

Hours were spent lounging around with Doyoung talking Taeyong’s ears off with stories that he had missed in the past two years, how he was the one who had forced him into the class he shared with you and how coerced him into asking you out before he graduated; a bunch of stories that it almost made Taeyong wish that everything could just go back to the way it was.

He wasn’t the Taeyong they speak so fondly off, he was merely just the shell of him. Still, Doyoung had brought out a smile that you had been unable to make and for that, Taeyong gave him his thanks. You glanced at him from the corner of your eye and sniffled.

Doyoung left not too long after, but he promised to visit soon. He knew you needed the support. You were left alone with your boyfriend again and the silence envelops you whole. When you excused yourself to grab a much-needed coffee, Taeyong sank to the hospital bed and succumbed to his tears.

This was his last night in the hospital and it had felt like the longest. He was out like a light but you stilled in your chair beside his bed, fumbling with the ends of his blanket in worry of tomorrow. Not much had progressed in your relationship with him. He was still embarrassed, timid in how he acted around you. You asked if he wanted to go home with you and he reassured you that he would be fine with it, but the panic you felt was still prominent.

Morning came and after what seemed like hours of finishing what was left of Taeyong’s documents in the hospital, it was time to finally leave. You hailed a taxi and you couldn’t help but notice your boyfriend’s sudden rigidness inside the vehicle. Swallowing your reluctance, you took his hand and forced his attention on you throughout the entire drive. He was thankful that you were able to distract him.

The apartment you shared with Taeyong was small but humble, the third unit in an old building that you swore was built in an era before the current. Thin walls and a poorly constructed floor, it was all both of you could afford when you’ve decided to move in together fresh out of college. Despite its imperfections, it was home as long as you had him with you.

With the creaky sounds your front door made, you heard the familiar sound of soft thudding of feet run across the wooden floors to welcome your arrival. Your heart leaped at the sight of Lala, the three-year-old Labrador you adopted with Taeyong, bolting towards your direction with her tongue sticking out.

Taeyong trailed behind you, drinking the place in. His gaze kept on darting from one place to another, his lips parted in amazement at the thought that he really had the courage to move out of his parents’ house to live with his girlfriend. It looked lived in, bits of his and your personalities showing in the way it was decorated and cluttered. The clashing of color schemes and wood tones almost made him want to laugh over how it was clearly furnished purely on indecision and compromise.

He was too busy familiarizing himself to notice that Lala had jumped on him. Your heart squeezed at the sight.

You crouched down to your knees, reaching over to scratch the back of Lala’s ear. You chuckled at Taeyong’s confusion on how to approach the hyperactive puppy, “Her name is Lala, she’s three years old. We adopted her on your birthday last year.”

Taeyong nodded with widened eyes, getting down to your level to attempt to pet her. He commented offhandedly, “Good girl, Lala.”

“She definitely prefers you over me, too.” You mumbled, watching Lala cave into Taeyong’s touch. She hadn’t seen him in a while so you wondered if her attachment to him would waver but it seemed to only grow stronger, the same way you were with your boyfriend. “I had my friend take care of her while we were gone.”

Taeyong kept his quiet and you swallowed the lump in your throat. His doctor told you to treat him especially kindly since he was in a vulnerable state, but you should instill a sense of normalcy. You were instructed to treat him as you normally would, he needed to be reminded of the lifestyle he used to have little by little.

The idea of having to consume copious amounts of medicines every day was already exhausting and gruesome, he even had the bandage around his head to deal with. He had a lot on his plate, you wouldn’t dare add to it by pressuring him to become the adult he doesn’t remember that he was. In his mind, he was still twenty years old and was living in a rickety dorm with Doyoung; it will surely take time for him to grow out of it.

You told Taeyong to go sit down on the stool across the island, to make himself comfortable while you prepared dinner—attempt to prepare dinner. Racking all the recipes his mother had taught you over the years, you wanted to cook a meal he would enjoy and reminisce over.

“Doyoung told me you didn’t like cooking very much.” You heard Taeyong’s voice said, a voice free of malice and full of genuine interest. He said, “It makes sense that I should be the one making food for us right now. You know, for all the trouble I’ve caused you the past week.”

You shook your head firmly, turning around so your back faced him. You didn’t want to let him see your ever-growing frown. You sighed, “Don’t worry, I can handle this. Do you want some coffee?”

“Yeah, sure.” He mumbled, pressing his cheek against the palm of his hand. He wished he could do more for you, but you weren’t letting him; you had your wall up as high as he had his.

Shuffling to where your coffee maker was, you quickly fixed a cup of coffee for him as if you moved purely on instinct. Taeyong watched you in amusement as you slid a blue mug to his way. The paint of its design was chipping off the edges and it had a small crack on the handle, it definitely had seen better days but he felt oddly drawn to it.

You saw him eyeing it out and you chuckled, “We went out on a pottery class for a date once and I made that mug for you. You refused to drink coffee without it, but I think it’s time for us to throw it out and buy you a better one.”

“No!” Taeyong interjected almost immediately, waving his hands to dismiss your idea. “I like it. We’re keeping it.”

Your chest ached, but you were unable to pinpoint the feeling that made it so, “If you say so.”

Taeyong was a picky man when it came to his coffee. He wasn’t an avid drinker of dark and rich brews, often preferred the sweeter and creamier side of the spectrum. The drink you made for him tasted just right, the perfect balance, and he was overwhelmed with gratitude. It made him laugh, how his taste in college didn’t seem to change in his twenty-three-year-old body.

“You can go look around while I cook.” You remarked, jutting your chin towards the rest of the apartment that he has yet to see as you run your hands under the running water. He followed your gaze and shook his head. You quirk an eyebrow, “You sure? It’ll take a bit before these noodles cook.”

Lala encircled his feet before cozying herself on top of his shoes, refusing to leave his sight. He laughed, bending down to pick her up and place her onto his lap. With his hands deep into the puppy’s golden fur, he asked, “Is Lala supposed to be a reference to the Teletubbies?”

You turned the stove on and plopped in the boxed pasta you retrieved from the pantry, “Your nephew loved the Teletubbies at some point so we made him name her.”

A visible twinkle appeared in Taeyong’s eye at the mention of his nephew. He’d only seen photos of him recently, the last he remembered of him was that he was only an infant cradled in his sister’s arms. And as if a barrier was put down, he asked if you could tell him more about what he had missed in his personal life. If Taeyong from the past trusted you enough to move in and adopt a dog together⁠—which he couldn’t believe he was able to do in college, he had to trust you, too.

You gladly entertained his curiosities while you prepared a mediocre version of his mother’s Jajangmyeon. As obscure some of his questions were, you were as honest as you could be. From how he managed to pass his senior year to how he got the job at his company, he asked it all while stuffing his face with dark noodles.

In your eyes, he looked like a kid who wanted to know what his older brother did, to follow in his footsteps and be just like him. He wanted to absorb so much information, it almost pained you to look at him listening to you with an expression so clearly resembling envy.

He cut you off and called out to you with a voice lower than before, sadder but still hesitant. You glanced at him in worry that you were rambling too much. He averted his attention away from you, “You’re crying.”

Raising a hand to your cheek, it was wet. You coughed in embarrassment, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He mumbled, meekly offering his half-empty drink to you.

You hopped out of your seat beside him, carrying your empty bowl to the sink. You stayed a bit longer away from his line of view, wanting to keep your emotions in check for Taeyong’s first night back in the apartment. You didn’t want to scare him away, he was getting more comfortable and you succumbing to your feelings would ruin everything you’ve worked so hard for.

You turned the tap on and cracked your neck, “I’ll clean up here while you can go take a bath. The bathroom is next to the bedroom.”

He let out a breath and nodded, lingering for a moment before ultimately deciding that it would be best to leave you be. He didn’t know how he could comfort you when he was the reason for your distress, it would only hurt you more if he tried to console you of things he didn’t know of.

He spotted a box on the coffee table on his way to the bathroom, a bright red box with doodles scribbled onto its sides. Glancing at you, he was about to ask what it was inside when he clamped his mouth shut. He sat down on the couch and let his curiosity get the best of him, reaching to fiddle with the latch that sealed it closed.

Inside were piles of polaroid films, photos were not only of you and him but also of his friends from college and people he had yet to remember. An assortment of knickknacks filled it to its brim, variations of trinkets that included movie tickets and receipts. It was a box made to help Taeyong remember the memories he had lost, the connections he had with people that he had forgotten.

Taeyong bit the inside of his cheek, it must’ve been your doing. You probably asked around for others to help assemble the box, his heart swelled at the thought. You were working hard to make himself and his environment feel normal after losing a good chunk of his memories, he had to work hard as well.

His fists were shaking, his knuckles turning a shade paler than it already was. Lala snaked into the crook of his arm and whimpered at her owner’s change of composure. He laughed humorlessly, scratching her belly in appreciation.

Shutting the box closed, he sighed. He made his way towards the unfamiliar bathroom and filled the tub. Doyoung always told him that a bath could melt all of his troubles away, and how he wished it was that easy.

Taeyong came out of his long bath with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist, blushing as he hastily pulled on the clothes you had prepared for him in the bedroom. You remained unfazed as you waited for him in a change of sleepwear, he realized that you might’ve already seen him naked before and the thought of it only worsened the state of his cheeks. He perched on the edge of the bed once he was finished.

You grabbed his ointment and attended to the injury on the side of his head, a gash that the doctors had sewn back together. You had a light hand, he noted, but the ache persisted. It burned when the tip of its applicator grazed along the stitches. He reached out to toy with the hem of your shirt, to divert his attention from the pain. You wrapped a bandage around his head as quickly as you could.

You mumbled, “It’s all done.”

“Thank you.” He smiled up at you and you returned it halfheartedly. “Let’s go to sleep, yeah? I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“No, don’t! This bed is yours, too.” You said, holding onto his wrists before he could make a home on your busted couch that functioned as Lala’s chew toy half the time. “I know how much your back hurts because of the hospital bed so please, sleep here.”

Taeyong looked at you with a conflicted expression on his face but after seconds of contemplation and mental debate, he relented only if you’d use the bed as well. You sighed and caved in.

He crawled to his side of the bed, making you wonder if there was an inkling of a chance that he remembered how much he preferred his half that faced the windows. You shuffled to your side, mindful to not cross any boundaries. This would be his first time sleeping next to you and you didn’t want him to feel uncomfortable by being too close for comfort.

You switched to your side, away from his sight. The awkwardness was suffocating you, it seemed like you were the only one affected by it because soon you felt his side dip as he made himself more comfortable while you were frozen like a statue. You were nearing the edge of the bed, so far the end that one wrong move would make you fall out of it.

“Taeyong, are you asleep?” After an hour of silence, you spoke up but in hopes that he was already sleeping.

Unfortunately for you, he hummed in response. You could feel the blankets shift, making it known that he was facing your direction now that you’ve called him. At your lack of reply, he must’ve thought you didn’t hear him so he cleared his throat, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, look. I just want to say that if you want to break up with me, I’ll understand.”

“What?” He slowly sat up in confusion, hefting himself up with his elbows. You refused to look at him, gnawing on your lips and your eyes squeezed shut as if you were a kid caught by your parents awake past your bedtime.

“This situation we’re in, you don’t have to force yourself to be with me if you don’t want to.” You managed to choke out, choosing your words carefully. “I want you to continue living who you are now, I’ll just hinder you from moving on if I only remind you of the memories you lost.”

He called out your name, much sterner and different from the gentle tone he always used on you. You were suffering worse than he was, that he knew, but he didn’t know just how much until you’ve finally cracked—the insecurities and worries you’ve hidden from him, pouring out all at once and he didn’t know what to do with it.

You were sobbing into the sheets and he could only rub circles onto your back as a failed attempt at comfort. He wanted to tell you so many things, to reassure you that he wasn’t thinking the way you assumed he would be.

Taeyong thought of you so highly. You were someone who carried all of his burdens and stories that made him the person that he was, someone who had so much love for him despite not having it reciprocated back, someone who just wanted him to forgive himself for not being who he was and to start living again. You weren’t just some stranger to him, but the world had robbed him of you.

He ignored his hesitance and whispered under the blanket of the night, “You might’ve lost the Taeyong that you love but I promise I will spend the rest of my days proving to you that I’m worthy of the same love you’ve once given to me.”

“Taeyong—”

“It’ll take some time and I can’t assure you that things will be the same as it was but I swear, I will never forget you again and we’ll be happy.”

There were a lot of things to do, but none of those things were as important to him as lying here next to you, to pick up what remained of you from his ruins. He knew full well that he wasn’t the only victim. He was aware that you were also trying your best for him, to hold onto what’s left of the pieces you used to love about him.

“I really want this to work out.” You admitted amid your hiccups and sniffles, his heart broke at the sound of it. “I know I haven’t lost you yet.”

“Thank you for not giving up on me.” He mumbled, running his nimble fingers through the locks of your hair as a serene silence filled the room as you didn’t say anything back. After a week of being in the hospital, your heavy breathing was enough to lull him into his sleep.

You glanced at him for the first time since you had laid down, observing his furrowed eyebrows and pursed lips. A small smile appeared on your face, he looked tired even though he was already deep in his sleep. You whispered in the dark, “Sleep tight, Taeyong.”

The cold of the night renders you restless once again, your eyes brimming with a bright red hue and utter exhaustion. You swung your legs to the side of the bed, careful enough to not wake your boyfriend who was already asleep. His gentle snores filled the room and you made your way towards the balcony connected to the bedroom with your phone in hand and a blanket draped around your shoulders.

It was another starless sky, you looked up and the absence of the twinkling lights comforted you. You pulled on the blanket closer as you fiddled on your phone, tapping on an option that directed you to a phone call.

“Don’t you know that it’s two in the fucking morning? What do you want?” Doyoung’s voice replaced the monotonous ringing, sounding raspy from what you assumed was his sleep.

“I wanted someone to talk to.” It was your honest answer and you knew he wouldn’t judge you for it.

He yawned, and for a moment you felt a twinge of guilt but it dissipated the second after, “How is Taeyong doing? You brought him back home earlier, right?”

“He’s okay. He’s passed out on the bed right now.” You said, stealing a glance at where Taeyong was sprawled across the bed. A weak smile tugged at the corner of your lips, you haven't seen him more at peace. “It kinda sucks, you know? I want to be strong for him but I don’t know how long I will last.”

“You love him, right?”

“I do. So much.”

“Then just be patient, please. You’re the only person he can truly rely on right now.” Doyoung sounded like he was almost pleading with you, entrusting his best friend to you for a second time with the first was when you agreed to be Taeyong’s girlfriend. He said, “The love you shared is very strong, it conquered many hurdles and it will overcome this.”

You nodded your head, but you remembered Doyoung couldn’t see you. You whispered, “I’m scared, Doyoung.”

“Of?” He asked as quietly as you were being as if you wanted the conversation to only be a secret between each other.

“What if he never loves me again?” Your nail was shoved in between your teeth, your leg anxiously bouncing against the floor. It was a thought that had flitted about your mind but you have shoved it so far back in an attempt to ignore it but it demanded your attention, to face its possibility.

He scoffed at the other end of the line, “It’s Taeyong we’re talking about here. If he could fall in love at his first sight of you in college, he could easily do it again.”

You let out a shaky breath, “Thanks, Doyoung. I needed that.”

“Alright, good night. Take care of yourself.” He said, dropping the call when you didn’t return his farewell.

You bent over the railing, tilting your chin up to face the night sky once more. You scoured the endless dark for even just a glimpse of a shooting star, for a chance to wish upon the universe to end this nightmare of yours. Your boyfriend was right there with you, but you have never felt more lonely.

Shutting your eyes closed, you let out another sigh. You were so tired of crying but it felt like the only thing you could do. You wondered just how much an average person could cry, maybe you’ve exceeded their record.

You left the balcony not too long after, padding back to the bed with a heavier heart. You sat on your side and twisted your body to face Taeyong. His mouth was parted and his cheek was pressed onto the pillow he held onto, a chuckle rolled off your tongue. Before you could even think of stopping yourself, you leaned onto him and placed a kiss onto his forehead.

A familiar heat rises to your neck at what you have done, you jumped from where you sat and raised a hand to your lips as if you’ve been burnt. You hadn’t been this intimate to him since the accident happened.

You grabbed your blanket and bolted to the living room, making do with the couch for the rest of the night as you forced yourself to sleep. Lala sleepily watched you in confusion.

Days passed and things have gone relatively the same as the first time Taeyong returned from the hospital, but you noticed the tension has lifted ever-so-slightly. You finally stopped crying yourself to sleep and eventually he has grown enough courage enough to express his affection—discreetly holding your hand and tugging you into his arms late at night to cuddle.

He was forced to stay at home for the remainder of the month while he recuperated, family and friends have visited from time to time to keep him company while you returned to your job. All the stories he’d heard about the two years he’d forgotten about, all of them were linked to you one way or another and it sparked a familiar surge of jealousy he had over his own self; that his past self made so many good memories with you that he could not never experience again.

His feelings for you were growing steadily, dare he said that he may have grown a crush on you. He could never admit it aloud for how pathetic it was, to have a crush on your own girlfriend. But it was your soft hair, your gentle hands, and your never-ending love and patience for him—these were some of the things he could not believe he had forgotten the existence of, how loved it made him feel, and he was ready to drown himself in it again.

Taeyong received a package when you were still at work one day, the label of his hometown address stamped at the right-hand corner indicated that it was from his parents. He ripped off the packaging tape with Lala nuzzling into his side.

He looked inside and saw his luggage. When he was rushed in an ambulance after his crash, his parents were the firsts to arrive at the hospital so the nurses had entrusted to them his belongings that were found in the wreckage. They failed to return it to him once he regained his consciousness as they hurried home soon after you had arrived, unable to stay much longer for personal matters.

He supposed that he only had clothes in it for he was told that he came from his hometown for a week-long visit. Rummaging through his clothes, he was surprised to see a velvet box hidden underneath the pile.

He took it out and gaped at it with owl-like eyes, he fumbled to flip it open. A shiny sparkle of a diamond reflected a faint rainbow from the sunlight that poured from the nearby window, he stared at it for what seemed like an eternity. Chuckling softly, he held the engagement ring close to his chest with a newfound source of encouragement.

You returned home that day to a romantic dinner. Candles of different scents were lit up and a torn picnic blanket covered the dining table, you took off your shoes and followed the scent of your boyfriend’s familiar cooking and spotted him in the kitchen. He donned a suit but he had on an apron to protect his front, busy with whatever meal he was preparing to see you peeking in from the doorframe.

“What are you doing?” You asked, and Taeyong swore you had on the brightest smile that he had seen in a while.

He turned off the stove and threw aside his apron, he strode his way to you and wrapped his arms around your waist. He placed his chin on top of your head and said, “I want to get to know you better.”

“You didn’t have to do this.”

“But I want to take you out on a first date—well, not out out, but you get what I mean.”

You giggled, pressing your cheek against his chest but you suddenly drew back, the worried expression you had taking him by surprise. Raising a hand to his forehead, you asked, “Your heart is beating really fast. Are you okay? Do you want to sit down?”

He stared at you incredulously before bellowing a laugh, a hearty laugh you’ve never heard before. Shaking his head, a small hint of a smile appeared on his lips. He gently pried off your hand from his face and placed a kiss onto the back of your hand. He said, “I’m okay now.”

You were unconvinced that he was, but his sudden affection made it easy for you to ignore it. He leaned down and stole a chaste peck onto your reddened cheek. He put his hand inside the pocket of his suit and nervously fiddled with the velvet box.

Taeyong lost so much of his memories, but he was ready to make new ones as long as he was with you. He will learn to love you again as much as he did before, if not more as long as the universe allowed his heart to.

[filthficdump]

Good Thing This Job Has Benefits.

AN: I wrote this in one day, I’ve developed a hyperfixation on The Walten Files, so you get to enjoy this absolute mess I’ve made.

You can also read it here on AO3. There’s no romance, it’s a gender neutral, nameless reader fict. There’s no death, because I am NOT about to write angst about a happy family :(

When I had you to myself, I didn't want you around. Those pretty faces always made you stand out in a crowd.

The gravel under my tires crunched as I drove through the night, bopping and tapping the steering wheel to the beat of the song, singing along. It was late, most likely near or after nine PM, but I wasn’t about to take my eyes off the road to check. That’s just asking for trouble.

But someone picked you from the bunch, one glance was all it took. Now it's much too late for me to take a second look.

New job, it’s been going great! I wouldn’t have thought I’d get to use my programming degree so soon, but I’m so happy I got this job. Sure, it’s for a kid’s burger joint, but there’s animatronics and other stuff, plus that finance minor rocketed me straight to an assistant manager position!

Oh, baby, give me one more chance, to show you that I love you. Won't you please let me, Back in your heart.

In the distance I could see a pair of headlights and slowed my car a bit and moved a bit to the side to provide them more room. These roads were narrow and I really didn’t think I wanted to get into a car crash and have to deal with that with what’s left of my savings and likely my first check.

Oh, darlin', I was blind to let you go (Let you go, baby) But now since I see you in his arms (I want you back)

The thought ‘That car looks like it’s moving really fast- too fast’ is the last thought in my head as the car got close, too close to stop the car or move away, there’s a ditch and trees on my side of the road. My hand hit the horn hard, blaring, but they served and-

CRASH!!!

Yes, I do now, I want you back. Ooh, ooh, baby, I want you back.

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, I want you back. Na, na, na, na.

When I come back to, I’m upside down, held up by my seat belt. Ho-ly-shit. I got into a fucking car crash.

Oh shit! I got into a car crash- The other car! I struggle to turn to look out the window and I see the other car against the guard rail. It’s hard to get a good look at the other car, seeing how I’m upside down and in the goddamn ditch, but I need to get out of the car.

I instinctually went for the pocket at the door, looking for my seatbelt cutter, but it had fallen out. Thanks, gravity. Thankfully, it’s on the roof of the car and I grabbed it before grabbing the handle of the door, pushing it open before I pressed my free arm against the roof of the car and-

“ FUCK! ” I yell, feeling the pain shooting up my arm and shoulder. Holy fuck, why did it hurt so bad?! We’re in the middle of the woods and I can’t remember the last home I passed and my car is upside down.

Either someone comes or I’ve got a long walk. I grit my teeth and cut the seat belt, falling head first into the ceiling and then out the door, tumbling until my butt hit grass. I flung the seatbelt cutter to the side and struggled up, using my door as support before I had to climb up the slippery slope of the ditch and onto the road.

My more useful arm held the other to my chest as I limped. Just about everything hurts. My chest, my shoulder, my leg, my face. Why did this have to happen? I was having such a good night, and now I’m in a wreck and about to give this jackass a piece of my mind. If he’s not dead.

I got closer to the car and looked inside. The man was unconscious, leaning against the steering wheel. I looked to the back instinctually, not expecting to see two terrified children! Oh god, wait- No, they’re alive. They’re looking at me.

I pulled open the driver door, still looking back at the kids, “Uh… Hey. Are you kids okay?” I asked, leaning down to look at them better. A boy and a girl, clearly siblings. They were sniffling and crying, but nodded, “Is this your dad?” I asked, pointing at the unconscious man. The car reeks of booze.

“N-No…” The boy sniffled, “He’s our uncle!”

“Okay, okay… Well, I’m gonna get us to help.” I said and went over to the passenger side, opening it up. The paint was scratched and the panels dented, but the car was still running. It would be shorter to keep going the way I came from, the city and a hospital is that way.

I reached over and wrapped my arm around the unconscious man’s chest, dragging him over into the passenger seat where there were beer bottles on the floor. Not even a seatbelt? He’s lucky he didn’t die.

I buckled him in and shut the door, walking back around to the driver’s seat before getting in and shutting the door. I tested my foot on the gas and hand on the wheel, my other arm resting in my lap.

Thank god the car still worked! I just started driving, the car feeling quite literally fucked as it went over the road, but it’s a working car!

It was perhaps ten or fifteen minutes down the road, “Um… So, what’s your guys’ names?” I asked, looking back at them through the crooked rear view mirror. They must have been so terrified. They were just in a car crash, and now their jackass drunk uncle was unconscious and a stranger was in the car with them.

“I’m Edd… She’s Molly…” Edd said, his sister was holding a grey bunny toy. Looked like one of those prize stuffed animals we keep at Bon’s Burgers prize counter, but it wasn’t blue or purple, and the restaurant hasn’t been opened yet.

I introduced myself and really focused on the road, “That’s a really cool bunny. It’s like the ones we have at my work.” I said, smiling, “Ever heard of Bon’s Burgers?”

The girl looked confused, “Y-Yes? Our dad works there.” She said. Oh no, were they my co-worker’s kids? Which co-worker?

“O-Oh? What’s your dad’s name?” I asked, glancing over at the man in the passenger seat. I couldn’t see him very well in the dark car, but I could hear his deep breathing and slight snoring.

“His name is Jack Walten. Our mom is Rosie!” Edd said, and for a moment I thought I was going to get into another accident. Jack… Walten…?

My boss's kids?!

“Ha-Ha, oh wow… Small work. I started working there. Today was my first day, actually…” I said, muttering a few swears under my breath, “I met Jack! Um… Do either of you know his phone number…? We’re gonna need it when we get to the hospital.”

The boy nods and I sighed- Wait, if these are Jack’s kids, then the man...

Another glance. We’re getting to the part of the road with street lights. I recognize those glasses. This was my other boss, wasn’t it? Please don’t say it is, I just crashed into my bosses’ car. Wait, no, he crashed into me! This wasn’t my fault!

The bastard is too drunk and irresponsible. He could have killed himself, the two kids, or even myself! For god sakes my car is in a ditch!

“Let’s just… Listen to some music, okay?” I offered and put on the radio, driving with my knee for the moment since my injured arm was starting to go numb. It better not be broken, I swear to god.

Once we got into the city I went straight to the hospital, parking in the emergency parking lot. “Okay, can you guys walk?” I asked, unbuckling my belt to look at both of them. They opened their doors and the girl winced.

“My ankle hurts!” She cried. Edd thankfully didn’t seem too injured, but he had a burn from the seat belt.

“Okay, okay. Hold on, I’ll carry you.” I said and got out. My leg felt like it was covered with biting fire ants, but I wasn’t about to leave her alone for them to just get a wheelchair.

I bent down and she reached up, one hand clutching the stuffed bunny as she wrapped her arm around my neck and I held her up on my hip, my only good arm holding her up, “Okay, okay, okay.” I mumbled softly and the boy was by my side, “Okay, grab my hand.” I said, offering my injured hand. I didn’t care that it hurt, I knew he was putting on a brave face.

He took my hand and I walked them both in. The tired nurse at the desk looked up at us and looked terrified before she quickly called for help, “We have another in the car. The black one out front.” I said, “We were just in a car crash.”

“Oh my god!” She said as more nurses came, one that had a gurney and I put the girl up on top and the boy got to sit in a wheelchair, “Are you their mother?” The nurse asked as one of the other nurses tried to sit me down in a wheelchair as well.

“No… I’m the one their uncle crashed into.” I said and reluctantly sat down. I didn’t realize how fast my heart was beating, it must explain all of the wandering thoughts that clouded my mind.

I was brought to the same room that they were, but curtains separated me from them. Doctors and nurses came shortly and my vision grew quite spotty. Information was exchanged, my nearest relative was an hour away and it was late, so it’s a toss up if they got the call.

One of the children gave a nurse the phone number to their home, and already my head was coming up with the worst thoughts of what would happen. Will I be fired? Is he going to sue me? I’m probably just as guilty as Felix in his eyes.

Speaking of Felix, if Jack doesn’t fire me he will! If he doesn’t get arrested.

“Pardon me…” One of the nurses said, drawing my attention, “We need to cut off your shirt. Your arm is likely dislocated and we don’t want to move it.”

Oh god, if they cut off this shirt I’ll have to pay 25 dollars to get another. “Um… No, it’s my only uniform.” I said and with my one good arm undid the buttons before another nurse pulled from my uninjured side and I pulled it the rest of the way off, letting the nurse take it.

Unfortunately, pants and shoes too, but I got a nifty gown and now they could resume looking me over. What I didn’t appreciate was them having to pop my arm back into place, that was awful.

They had to bandage up my cuts and test me for brain damage (just a mild concussion) and put my arm in a sling, my ribs were also likely fractured. Molly's ankle had to be splinted as it was strained and Edd had a slight concussion.

At least I got to change back into a spare set of plain clothes that they happened to have, but that required a nurse's help with the newly relocated arm that ached and hurt when I moved it.

Felix hadn’t been brought to our same room, and an officer came to question us. I told the whole story, and just to be sure they breathalyzed me. Unlike a certain driver I blew a 0.0 BAC.

Our stories matched up and they pulled back the curtains to allow us to see each other and talk. They were still shaken up, but they were told their mom and dad were on their way a while ago. Great. I’m just glad their parents were still awake and were on their way, even though I knew there was going to be so much to talk about and I was going to have to justify myself to both of the worried and likely angry parents.

I talked to them about school and what they liked to do, how they just came from a school party. Molly was excited to have her friends sign her ‘cast’ and Edd thought he would be the coolest kid in school for surviving a car crash.

I remembered being their age and smiled and nodded along as I was put on a low grade painkiller and we were given water to drink. After about 20 minutes I could hear a commotion and a man and two women calling out for the two children. They called back and moments later a frazzled looking man, my boss Jack Walten and his wife Rosemary, along with his worried looking teen daughter Sophie rounded the corner of the doorway and in that moment I had never seen anyone look so relieved.

The reunion was toothrottingly sweet, all five hugging and just overjoyed to see their children okay and alive. I couldn’t help but smile, even though it felt like I was intruding on something that should have been private.

Edd brought me up and Molly joined in, the both of them talking at once and practically over each other as they tried to explain everything that happened. I’m not sure if their parents or sister fully understood, but what was grasped was that Felix crashed into me, and I drove them to the hospital.

Both Jack and Rosemary looked at me and I awkwardly waved. He looked confused, like he recognized me but unsure from where, “Hi, boss…” I said, introducing myself for the second time that day.

We only met for ten minutes earlier today, but his eyes widened in surprise. “You… Felix crashed into you?” He asked, “And you got my children to safety?”

I timidly nodded. Please, please don’t be angry.

The officer presented himself and cleared his throat, “Your employee here was driving home when Mr. Kraken, who was intoxicated, who was driving the other way crashed into them and knocked them from the road into the ditch while Mr. Kraken’s car hit the guardrail.” The officer explained.

“I um… I was upside down but cut myself free and climbed out to check on the other car, and I saw that he had Molly and Edd in the back and my car wasn’t about to get out of the ditch any time soon so I just… drove them here.” I finished, punctuating the end by nervously drinking the rest of my water.

“He was drunk?!” Rosemary said, stunned and clearly angry. The officer nodded while Jack’s fist clenched, clearly enraged. I would be just as shocked and angry if I had children and they were put in danger by someone who’s supposed to be their friend.

I should probably be just as angry that some drunk asshole- who is my boss no less- nearly killed me, but I was just glad that we were all still alive. Sure, my car is fucked, and so is about 50% of my body (exaggerating), but my bones will heal and I’ll repair my car or get a new one. I mean, that’s what insurance is for, right?

What I didn’t expect out of all of this was to be hugged by Rosemary. Oh yeah, it fucking hurt but I just kept that to myself. She sniffled and I awkwardly patted her back with my one good arm, “Thank you for keeping them safe…” She said quietly.

“I-It was nothing, really.” I said timidly, “I wasn’t about to leave them alone.”

“Nothing? You saved them!” Jack said and shook my hand when his wife pulled away to dry her eyes and hug all of her children once more, “I can’t ever thank you enough for what you did for my family. I… I couldn’t stomach the thought if…”

I gave him a reassuring squeeze of his hand and he clasped my good shoulder, “It sucks that this happened in the first place but… I’m just glad everyone is alive…” I said, giving a nervous smile.

“Is he alive?” Jack asked, looking at the officer as he let go of my hand and shoulder.

“Yes, he is. We will be pressing charges, he blew above a 0.3.” The officer responded and Jack nodded, seemingly ‘pleased’ with that.

After exchanging contact information and addresses with both Jack and myself he departed, leaving the family to resume their reunion. I smiled awkwardly and looked away awkwardly, scratching my neck.

I haven’t heard anything about my relative having called or if they were coming, so I could only assume I wouldn’t be getting a ride from them. Or a ride tonight at all.

For a moment I was lost in my head, feeling a bit too sorry for myself. I moved all the way out here because there were jobs and rent was cheap, but I was so far from my family and friends, and even though I helped their children would I even still have a job?

I refilled my paper cup and sipped on the cold water before a nurse came to let us all know that after a final check over, we would be set to go home in an hour or so. Great, I better start making calls or something.

For a moment I didn’t realize that Rosemary was talking to me. I looked up as she repeated my name, “U-Uh yeah?” I said, looking a little confused.

“Do you have a ride home…?” She asked. Ah, oh no. I’m not about to ask these clearly exhausted parents for a ride home, I could only imagine they just wanted to get home and be with their children.

“No… But I can get one, don’t worry.” I said, but Jack shook his head.

“Nonsense, it’s the least we could do. You look like you need some sleep.” He said, making me chuckle.

“So do you two.” I laugh, “Really, you don’t need to. I’ll get a hold of someone eventually. Really!”

Rosemary shook her head, “No way, sincerely it wouldn’t be a bother. Where do you live?” She asked, and I reluctantly gave my street address, “Oh, you live just a bit down the way from us!” She said. Looks like it’s out of the question.

The doctor came and checked us all over one last time before giving me a prescription slip for painkillers for the next week and a half and we were permitted to leave. Jack carried his daughter while Rosemary held her son’s hand and I followed behind them.

I won’t lie, I’m pretty damn nervous. Checking out of the hospital took a little while as well, but soon we were free to go. That will be a fun bill to pay.

Rosemary sat in the back with the children, not giving me any chance to protest as I had to sit in the passenger seat next to Jack. Edd and Molly were clearly tired, cuddling up to their mother as Jack turned on the car and carefully pulled out.

It was incredibly clear that Jack was very, very focused on the road, not wanting to get his family into a car accident as well. I couldn’t imagine what he was thinking, but I was just so glad that this didn’t end in tears.

The car ride to their home was mostly quiet, only some light conversation made. Jack was interested to know how I enjoyed my first day on the job.

“It’s been exciting…” I chuckled and he laughed softly, but I wasn’t all that comfortable or any less nervous. I did just want to get home and rest, because tomorrow morning I likely had to call my insurance and figure out how I’ll be getting to and from work.

If there even was a job anymore. With one half of the business owners likely going to jail I didn’t know if Jack would take on the massive workload, or if he would even want me to work there anymore.

“We’re here.” Jack let them know.

We pulled into their driveway and Sophie was the first to get out to help her mother take her siblings into the house with Jack telling them that he would be right back after he dropped me off.

“Have a good night, everyone…” I smiled and waved at them. Edd and Molly sleepily waved back before they went inside and shut the door.

It was surreal, everything that had happened. And now I was alone with my boss as he started to drive towards my home.

“I can’t believe he happened to crash into you…” Jack said and I nodded silently, “I could never thank you enough… You… I just can’t believe…” His voice cracked and he brought his hand up to wipe his cheeks.

“I’m sorry this happened… I’m just glad your children are safe…” I said, fidgeting with a stray string on my pants, unsure if I should pat his back or would that be too far? “You have a beautiful family, Jack, I’m sorry that you’re having to drive me home…”

“Don’t be sorry, you drove them to the hospital with a dislocated arm! I couldn’t imagine what it was like, being run off the road and into a ditch, upside down!” He said and I couldn’t help but laugh.

“To be honest, it was like a dream. One moment he’s coming towards me and I move aside since the road is pretty narrow, the next I see that he’s a bit too close over to my side and then finally I’m upside down in the ditch.”

“And- It was you! Who would have thought that my new employee would be the one to get hit.” He said, smiling softly, “Oh and don’t you worry about rushing back into work! I will be paying you your wages, you helped my family out, I’m going to help you too.”

“You-You really don’t have to do that. I’ll be okay!” I insisted, but he shook his head. He wasn’t having it.

“I want to, you don’t understand how stressed and worried we were…” He said, “I called Felix over 20 times, I thought the worst had happened and I… I started to lose hope I would ever see them again.”

“He’s going to jail for this, no doubt…” I said, “Will you be taking over the business…?”

“Yeah… It’ll be a lot but I think I have someone who I can rely on to help.” He said, smiling.

“Oh, good! I’ll try my best to pull my own weight.” I said, smiling, “I know you guys took a big risk hiring me fresh out of college but-”

“I- It’s you!” He said, “I know you just started, but your finance and programming degree is going to be a massive help!”

“Wha…?” I gaped at him. Me? Did I get a promotion? “I would be honored to help!” I smiled. I think I just became a manager or something, I’ll figure that out when I go back to work.

I pointed out my house and he pulled up in front, “I won’t let you down, I promise.” I gleamed and he smiled, holding his hand out for me to shake.

I did, not expecting him to pull me in for a hug. Looks like this was a really huggy family, it was pretty similar to my own family. “I know you won’t. Would you mind if you gave me your number so we can speak tomorrow? I imagine Edward and Molly would like to hear that you’re okay.” He asked.

I nodded and waited until he got a pen and a small black book to put my number in it before I opened the door, “I’ll speak to you soon, then… Have a good night, boss.” I smiled and he laughed.

“Just call me Jack. Really.” He said, “Have a good night.” I nodded and got out before shutting the door, walking to the front door. I grabbed the spare key from the mail box and gave one last wave after I unlocked the door. He flicked his high beams at me before he started to back up and I opened the door, shutting and locking it behind me.

It’s been a really strange night.

[notisaidshe]

☆Heroic☆

~Chapter 1: If I Had a Wish~

-------------------------------------------------------

Rating: PG

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: There's some angst related to Missy's mother being dead.

Author’s Note: This is a slow burn Marcus Moreno x Fem! Reader series. It'll be fluffy and sweet. I'm very new to fanfiction, so I hope I'm doing this right. Feedback is appreciated, but please be nice about it.

Summary: You're a schoolteacher. One of your students, Missy Moreno, has a handsome father who always picks her up in the carpool lane. You have a bit of a crush on him, but he's off-limits. An essay Missy writes makes you cry. 

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A breath of fresh spring air greets you as you step out into the warm sunshine. Your students trail behind you, some walking in a neat single-file line and others fragmented into small clusters, socializing among themselves.

And then there’s Missy. Missy Moreno is a bright, enthusiastic student who has a bit of trouble connecting with children her own age. She’s plenty friendly, but the way she sees the world and operates within it is far beyond where most of the other kids her age are developmentally. So she prefers to read her books and tell you all about them as she waits outside for her father to pick her up from school. You glance down at the book in her hand as she anxiously watches the slow line of cars passing through the parking lot.

 

“Another one already?” You’re genuinely impressed by her speed. You saw the book she was reading yesterday and she was only a third of the way through. She beams back at you.

“Yep! I finished the other one last night.”

“And? You’re just gonna leave me hanging?” She giggles.

“Well… they found him!”

“They did???” You feign surprise, but she’s too smart for your tricks and gives you a lighthearted eye roll.

“Come on, you knew that!”

“Well, yeah,” you acquiesce, “but how?” You’re genuinely curious.

“Oh. He left clues in the postcards."

"Ahh… Smart."

You're interrupted by the sound of a window rolling down and a man's voice calling out.

"Hi, Missy." She quickly shifts her attention to the car you hadn't noticed driving up. 

"Daddy!" Missy runs over to the car, throws her book bag in the backseat, and crawls into the passenger side of the car. You smile and turn to walk away, but her father catches your eye for a moment. He flashes a cordial grin while lifting a few fingers off the steering wheel in a wave, his other arm reaching out to embrace his daughter.

"Thank you." You can’t help but notice the way his eyes practically sparkle in the light, the warm sincerity of his tone, his casual, one-handed grip on the steering wheel, the ring on his finger… You sharply bring your attention back to the moment, refusing to let your mind wander. He’s married, with at least one child. Strictly off-limits. 

“Have a good, day, Mr. Moreno.” 

And then he’s gone. The afternoon continues normally. You make sure all the rest of the students are picked up, then retreat to your classroom to gather your things and leave. Nothing strange happened, nothing out of the ordinary, and yet… you can’t seem to shake the thought of him from your mind. It’s ridiculous. 

You’ve had a bit of a crush on Missy’s dad since you first met him at the beginning of the school year. He walked into your classroom holding her hand and never once let it go. You chuckled to yourself as you watched him struggle to hold the orientation papers and school supply list, the classroom workbook your students used all year, and the candy you gave out all in one hand. You were sure he would give up and use both hands, but you never saw it. He just kept on holding his daughter’s hand.

Your night proceeds like always. You get home, plop your stuff on the table, and fix yourself some scrambled eggs for dinner. They turn out perfectly, like always. The secret is to whisk them thoroughly with milk to become fluffy while the pan heats up, then pour them in and stir by pulling the edges inward. You stir in shredded cheddar cheese, then season at the very end with salt, pepper, and fresh chives from your herb planters. Like always. 

After eating, you pull out your school bag and start grading papers. The children wrote today about what they would do if they met a genie who gave them one wish. The responses are as varied as the students themselves as you read through stories of vast fortunes, magical powers, pets, time travel, and more. But one essay in particular catches you by surprise.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

If I Had a Wish

By Missy Moreno

I was walking home one day when I met a magical genie. He was blue all over and could float. It was really cool.

“Hi, are you a genie?” I said.

“What makes you think that?” he asked.

“Well, because you are blue and floating. I think it’s a fair question, but I’m sorry to assume anyway.”

“Yes, I am a genie, and only people with pure hearts can see me. Because you have found me, I grant you one wish.”

“Wait, really? Why?”

“What do you mean, ‘why?’ I’m a genie. It’s what I do.”

“Oh. Um, ok…” I thought for a moment, “What kind of stuff can I wish for?” He smiled.

“Anything that you want. I can make you rich. I can give you flying powers. I can-”

“Wait, is this like the monkey’s paw?” I did not want to be tricked.

“H-how did you know about that?” The genie seemed astonished. I knew about it because of a movie I saw where there was a magic rock that granted wishes, but the bad guy turned himself into the rock and started giving other people wishes, but all the wishes had secret evil consequences. Except it turns out that that movie got the idea from a short story called The Monkey’s Paw, so that’s the one that I said. 

“Fine, I’ll actually give you what you wish for,” the genie sighed, but I still didn’t trust him.

“No, thank you. I’m going to go home now. I hope you have a good day,” I told him. Then I walked away from him. He huffed like he was upset, but I didn’t even look back. Plus, I had already seen a movie about genies, and that one was also blue, so they were probably the same kind of genie. The genie from the movie said that genies couldn’t kill anybody, bring anybody back alive, or make anyone fall in love. So even if I did make a wish, it would not work.

That is because if I could have any one wish granted, I would wish to have my mother back alive. I don’t remember her very well, but my dad says I am a lot like her and that she used to always call me bonita. My dad says it’s hard to be both the dad and the mom, but I think he is doing a great job. Except I still would rather have my mother again. 

The end.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    ...Wow. You wipe a tear from your eye with your sleeve and draw in a shaky breath. You had no idea.

    That would explain why you never saw a Mrs. Moreno, even though Mr. Moreno wore a wedding ring. You had wondered before, but you always figured she just had a busy schedule. It had never occurred to you that she was dead. Poor Missy. You can’t imagine what it’s like to have to go through childhood without a mother, especially with your father as the leader of the Heroics. You wish you could do more, offer more support, help the family beyond just grading papers and attending meetings.

What is one supposed to do in a situation like this? Alert the school counselor? No, probably not. Missy wasn’t at risk, and it had happened years ago. You don’t want to aggravate an obviously painful wound. Instead, you resolve to keep being as good of a teacher as you can, giving her a sense of normalcy, but also offering encouragement and love. After all, that’s why you became a teacher in the first place: to lead by example. ■

[221bshrlocked]

Here Right Now

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x Reader

Words: 2884

Warnings: my power couple - angst and smut

A/N: This came out of nowhere. I wrote some of it late last night and the rest of it today. I needed to practice needy Bruce because guess what Wanted Man will address eventually. Also, I haven’t written smut in a while and I just wanted to see if I could still do it or not so your comments will be much appreciated. This is a bit tame for my usual smut because I think I suck writing that now. I wrote this on my phone and I didn’t proofreed it because I have to get back to my homework so I apologize for any mistakes. Enjoy :)

He always commanded any room he was in. Even if it wasn't his party, somehow his presence was felt, sometimes in a good way and other times in a bad way. Well, to most individuals it was unpleasant. He had this aura about him, one that gave off nothing but narcissism, pride, and superficial playboy assholness. 

But you've watched him closely in so many of these events and you could tell that it was just an act. His smile never really reached far back enough to be considered genuine. And all those women he paraded around never got his attention. But they did get everyone else's which was probably the point. 

You walked away from your employer to get a glass of wine, finally feeling relaxed for the first time that night. It wasn't that you weren't thankful for the life you had, far from it. But you just couldn't stand these rich people who thought they owned you and your services. As soon as you turned around, you walked into a solid body, apologizing when you thought you had spilled your drink.

When an intimidating pair of hazel eyes looked into yours, you knew it was in your best interest to continue apologizing. You didn't want to hear another lecture from your boss again.

"Mr. Wayne, I am truly sorry I hadn't noticed you at all." You swallowed the lump in your throat, waiting for whatever insult he was going to spew at you.

"Now now, there's no need to lie Ms. Y/N." Bruce held your gaze and you hated how much that million, no, billion dollar smile affected you. 

"Sorry?" You didn't know how to respond. Not only were you trying to read in between the lines but you were also surprised he knew your name at all.

"We both know you haven't stopped staring at me the entire night and I can't help but feel like we could amend that." He took the drink out of your hand and placed it on the bar, his eyes shamelessly dragging down your form before returning to your surprised orbs.

Had he not acted like he owned you already, you could have gone home with him. Not everyone can say they had a one night stand with Bruce Wayne. Granted he walked around with models and actresses everywhere but everyone knew he didn't take any of them home.

Fixing your clutch around your shoulder, you stepped away from him and cleared your throat. 

"Word of advice Mr. Wayne, stop acting like you own everyone. A little humility goes a long way." You gave him a rather unfriendly smile before walking away. 

Bruce stood still, absolutely enamored by your lack of care for who he is. He watched as you went to your boss and whispered something in his ear before heading towards the exit. 

Putting on your coat, you walked outside and tried to hail a cab when a low roar grabbed your attention. You rolled your eyes at the man driving the luxurious car, trying your hardest to not pay him any more attention than he already had.

"It's cold. You should let me give you a ride."

"I can find as much warmth in a taxi Mr. Wayne. Don't worry about me." You turned away and smiled at the entertained valet standing nearby.

Bruce hated how much sarcasm that last sentence was drenched with but he chose to ignore it.

"Please." He wasn't one to beg, let alone ask twice for something.

 The plea sounded almost genuine and perhaps that was why your own feet betrayed you and got in his car. 

"Thank you," you weren't sure why he was the one thanking you when it should've been you but you nodded and looked away from him. Bruce drove through the streets expertly, not speeding once or attempting to make himself known. 

When he got to your place, he parked the car and nervously played with the steering wheel.

"If you're waiting for me to invite you upstairs, I won't. But thank you for the ride Mr. Wayne, it was entertaining to say the least." You unbuckled your seatbelt and moved to exit the car when you heard shuffling next to you. 

"I am sorry, I- what I said back there...it was uncalled for." Bruce looked at you with a thousand emotions swimming in his eyes and you couldn't help but grasp onto the one that powered over all the others.

"I know you are. Whatever it is you're doing, it has everyone fooled. This...all of this...it isn't you. And I hope you find someone that could make you feel like yourself again. Without the masks and charades. This-" You softly touched his chest and firmly pressed on his heart, wanting him to listen closely to what you were about to say, "here, right now, this is who you are." You didn't have a chance to react, your entire body jerking forward when you felt Bruce violently pull on your wrist, his other hand grabbing your neck to bring you closer to him and before you knew it, his lips were on you like dew on leaves in the early morning hours.

A part of you knew you should push him away or even slap him and walk out. But his lips were soft, so much softer than you imagined. And my god did you imagine.

His tongue pushed through into your mouth and devoured your own, his hands never wandering anywhere inappropriate. Bruce almost moved away from you when he didn't feel you moving against him. But then returned his affection with twice as much ferocity, fingers combing through his long hair and pulling on it when he became more desperate with feeling you move with him.

You felt his pulse beating against the hand holding on his neck and you brushed the thought aside. There was no way someone like you made this man's heart race through the roof.

A few minutes later, Bruce finally managed to pull away but he kept his arms around you, afraid you'd walk away from him again. When you began to move, he knew he had no right to keep you in the car so he returned to his seat again. Combining through his hair, he waited for you to exit the car, his eyebrows furrowing when you remained still in your seat.

A loud buckling of a seat belt snapped him out of his haze and when he turned towards you, he saw you fixing the strap of yours dress, never once looking away from him. 

"Well, are we going to make out all night long or are you going to take me home?" You calmly asked, returning the smile he had plastered on his face.

And you hated how attentive you were to those little expressions.

He was genuinely smiling at you. 

The engine came back to life and you expected him to zoom through the streets, but he didn't. In fact, he was much more at ease now, his hand nestled on your thighs and holding on your shaking fingers. 

When he made it to his manor, he exited the car and ran around to open the door for you, smiling when you took the palm of his hand and squeezed it. He could tell you were nervous but he said nothing, offering you his arm to walk you to the door. 

A few minutes later, Bruce was apologizing for the long walk to his room and you laughed at the gesture because you knew his intentions weren't ones of pride. No, he was actually sorry you had to go up so many stairs to get to his room.

And when you finally made it, he shut the door behind him and walked to the window drawing back the curtains to light the room with the night sky.

Bruce turned around and was about to tell you that you had no obligation to do anything with him when he found your dress in a pile on the floor. Looking up, his Adam's apple nervously bobbed up and down at seeing you in nothing but a pair of black panties and heels.

Just like earlier, Bruce didn't move a muscle, afraid this was all a dream and that you weren't half naked in his room right now.

You could tell he was thinking of a million things so you made the first move, approaching him slowly before pushing his suit jacket off his shoulders. When you saw that he was still willing, you pulled on his tie and threw it away from him, unbuttoning the first few buttons before pushing the shirt away to reveal his chest. Bruce watched your every move, entranced by how gentle you were being with him. When you undid his cuff buttons as well and pulled the shirt out of his pants to get rid of it, Bruce found it had to breathe. 

But as soon as he felt your hands on his belt, he quickly reached to stop you. 

"I- this isn't...I am not trying to- oh god Y/N. You don't have to do anything." Your heart broke at his stammering. He really was trying to stay in control, more for your sake than his. And for the first time, you managed to get a peek inside the true Bruce. This man was trying to make you see him and so far, he was succeeding. He just didn't know it.

"Bruce..."

The sound of his name on your lips was probably what broke the spell. Somehow more aggressively than before, he wrapped his arms around you and carried you to his bed, leaving kisses anywhere he could reach before depositing you on his bed. 

You noticed that he liked to be as close to you as possible. Maybe he was touch starved. No scratch that, he was definitely touch starved. The man lost his parents at such a young age and only lived with his butler. He really was in some desperate need for proper and healthy attention.

You moaned and gasped as he worshipped your skin, half yelling his name when he pinched and licked your hard nipples. Between the assault on your breasts and feeling how hard he was, you were done for. 

"Bruce please...off, take this off. Need you," you never sounded this desperate for anyone or anything but you knew he needed to hear this. Damn him to hell for what he was going to have you feeling the next morning but a part of you loved the fact that you were able to help him. 

Bruce quickly obliged, grudgingly standing up to take his pants off before nestling between your thighs again. You pushed yourself against him, wanting to feel as much of his strangely scarred and bruised body as possible.

"Wai- oh fuck, Y/N please wait. I- I don't have a condom."

"I'm on the pill, just-" You were frantic, trying to take your panties off but whining when he didn't give you a chance.

"No no I can't take advantage of you, not you. We could-"

"If you don't fuck me right now I will actually be so goddamn angry at you." You had nothing else to threaten him with. And yet the look he had on his face when you said that managed to make you believe, even for a second, that he couldn't stand the thought of you being angry with him. 

"Y/N," he moaned your name before leaning down and taking your lips again. You sighed when you felt him palming the wet spot on your panties before pushing them aside and smearing your juices everywhere. Whatever clarity you had left was gone out the window as soon as you felt his fingers move inside you.  He was slow at first, expertly rubbing every spot that had you seeing stars. But then his hands got a little rough and before you knew it, he was fucking you with his fingers will whispering the filthiest things in your ears.

You held onto his shoulders, panting against him and not caring that you were probably bruising his beautiful skin. Within minutes, you were shaking in his arms, begging him to slow down or stop because you couldn't take the pleasure anymore.

As you came down from your little blissful high, you could feel something else nudge against your entrance. But he was still hesitating.

"Please...Bruce please I need you. Want to feel you inside me. Pl-please," you weren't surprised when he couldn't hold back and thrust in all at once. He was bigger than you thought, so much warmer and thicker than any other man you slept with. 

"Oh god Bruce...fuck, Bruce, you're so big. G-give me a second." You whispered against his jaw, trying to focus on opening up for him so he could move. You really needed him to move.

Bruce was panting above you, trying to stay in control to not hurt you. But you felt so fucking good.

"Shit... you're so tight around me Y/N. So goddamn warm and tight and perfect. I could stay here forever." He kept kissing your neck and cheeks, wanting you to feel safe in his arms.

The sensation was new to him. But he didn't want to think this way or feel this way ever again. Not after-

And the words he said made you feel so special. But you didn't want to dwell too much on that last bit. He was way out of your league.

"Move. Oh my god, you feel so fucking good inside me Bruce...you can move." You struggled to say to him but it was all worth it.

Bruce gently pulled almost all the way out before snapping his hips back into you again. He couldn't hold back even if he tried, not with the way you were moaning his name and sighing whenever his hard chest brushed against your achingly sensitive nipples. He went from hard thrusts to soft gyrating of his hips, knowing when he should get a little rougher or slower. You held onto him like your life depended on it, occasionally kissing his Adam's apple or licking the vein protruding from his neck. He never realized it but he apparently liked it a lot when you gave his neck attention.

"Y/N...'m so close. Please baby come with me. Want to feel you come on my cock. Feel so good wrapped around me...please come with me. Ah fuck...fuck oh god I'm- I'm coming," Bruce dropped his head into the crook of your neck, unable to hold himself back as he bit your shoulder and growled his release with a few hard thrusts. His body shuddered when he felt you clenching around him, milking him dry as you felt hot spurts fill you up and begin to roll down your thighs. 

You were both breathing heavily and you didn't know what came over you but you rubbed his back to comfort him when his body continued to shake above you. He tried to move but you didn't let him, feeling safe with his weight on top of you and knowing this was helping him as well. 

Bruce finally managed to fall to the side, immediately pulling you into his arms and wrapping both of them around you protectively as you nuzzled into his neck.

Neither of you said anything, drowning in each others' scent and warmth as you went into a deep sleep.

Hours later, Bruce woke up from the light seeping through his window and he growled before remembering the events of the night. He sat up immediately and looked around the room, not finding any trace of you or your clothes. He quickly got up and got dressed, thinking you were eating breakfast or something.

But when he saw Alfred, he knew that you were gone.

"Good morning Master Wayne, young Ms. Y/N apologized for leaving so early and asked me to tell you that she left something for you on the nightstand." Bruce was running back to his room before Alfred finished his sentence, bursting through the doors to reach his nightstand.

His heart sank when he saw what was on there.

But he was so careful.

Slowly, he approached his bed and sat on it, grabbing the letter from under the batarang. 

Dear Bruce,

You're probably dreading reading this letter but please don't worry. Your secret is safe with me. And I will never try to use it against you in any way. I just didn't feel right not telling you that I found it on your bathroom floor. I cleaned the blood off of it so you wouldn't have to. Just try to be careful with who you bring home next time please.

Thank you for the best night of my life. 

Warm wishes, Y/N

P.S. Please take care of yourself. 

Bruce didn't know what he was feeling.

All he did know was that he would try everything in his power to convince you that he doesn't want anyone else. He only wanted you and he would make sure to make you see past all of his masks. He couldn't afford to lose someone else.

[kyber-kisses]

Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: cursing, angst, a dash of fluff, Dean being a big old softie.

Summary: the reader has been missing for almost four years, what happens when she suddenly shows up in the bunker unannounced?

A/n: after reading this some of you are gonna go “you’ve already written something like this!” And yes, I know! But either way please enjoy this little piece!

Dean wasn’t sure which thing woke him up first. Maybe it was the clatter of someone moving around down the hallway or maybe it was the light suddenly streaming through the space beneath his door- either way, his alertness got the better of the hunter and he was slowly rolling out of bed, his hand reaching underneath his pillow for the gun that kept him constant company every night.

At first he just assumed it was Sam up and moving around in the early hours of the morning, but that was quickly debunked we he passed by the closed door of his room.The hallway lights were off, the lone light illuminating his path leaking from the open doorway of the kitchen up ahead. Or maybe it was Cas finally coming back from days of radio silence.

Dean slowly stalked forward, socked feet hitting the linoleum floors almost silently as he swiftly turned the corner, gun raised in defense in case of an intruder.

“Alright, who the hell-“ the words quickly died on his lip as his eyes landed on you. His eyebrows drawing together as his pupils widened in shock. “Y/N?”

You turned slowly, pulling your attention away from the small snack you had busied yourself with making. You drew in a breath, unable to find words of your own at his sudden appearance in the kitchen.

Dean lowered his weapon, seeing that there was no danger as he cautiously stepped down into the room, laying the gun down on the counter.

“You’re - you’re back.” The words felt heavy on his tongue as he took you in. It had been a little over three years since he last saw you- and for those three years he had convinced himself that you were dead.

And now here you were, standing in the bunkers kitchen making a sandwich and looking very much alive. You looked almost exactly the same as the last time he saw you- except you had cut your hair and your left hand was wrapped heavily in bandages, indicating you had been in some sort of scuffle recently.

“Yeah, I’m back. I’m sorry for waking you up.”

“Hey, no. It’s okay.” He breathed, finding himself physically incapable of taking his eyes off of you for even a second. “Where have you been?”

“Y/N?”

The sudden voice behind the older Winchester told him that Sam was now up, his brother slowly siding up besides him and looking almost as confused as him.

“Hi Sam.”

“What the hell is going on?”

Dean let out a light huff, still have some trouble in actually seeing you there in front of him. “Yeah, I was just about to ask that when you came in. Y/N, where the hell have you been?”

“Hunting.” You shrugged, turning back to your sandwich and acting as though you hadn’t been gone from their lives for almost four years.

“Hunting?” Dean breathed. “We- we spent months looking for you. . .”

“Well that’s all on you my guy. I would’ve thought you had put the pieces together when my room was empty.” You huffed, reaching for a knife to cut your sandwich.

Before Dean could open his mouth to speak again, his brother beat him to his words, voicing what he had been thinking all along. “Y/N, We thought you were dead for three years.”

“Well, as you can see-“ you spun around, throwing out your arms. “I’m very much not.”

Dean was trying everything in his power not to yell. Not to lash out and get angry- but with each passing second it was getting harder and harder. “Yeah, I can see that now. Thanks.”

You let out a deep sigh, head falling back as you grabbed your plate in one hand, while reaching for the half empty whiskey bottle on the counter. “Alright, there is no way I’m getting through this sober. What are you so mad about?”

Gnawing on his inner lip, Dean watched you seat yourself down at the table, almost completely forgetting the brother standing besides him. Something was different about you. You carried yourself differently, like you had a heavy weight bearing down on your shoulder.

“You’ve been hunting alone?!”

“Sam, tell your brother to calm down. It’s three in the morning.” You sighed, flicking off the cap from the bottle and watching it spin across the table top.

“I’m with Dean on this one Y/N, this whole time you’ve been hunting. . .by yourself?”

God, If you weren’t so tired you would have rolled your eyes at the two of them. It was like they liked to blow things out of proportion. Had you left announced? Yes. Had you been hunting by yourself? Also yes. But it didn’t matter. You were alive and you were home.

“Seeing as I probably won’t be eating my damn sandwich in peace, are you guys gonna sit down or what?”

Sam listened almost instantly, crossing the kitchen before sinking down in the seat across from you, while Dean on the other hand stood frozen in his spot. There was a mess of emotions raging inside him and they were locking him up. He was angry, he was relieved; he was stunned and confused.

“You gonna sit down or what, Cowboy?”

“Don’t do that.”

“Don’t do what?” You mumbled around a bite of sandwich, giving him a sharp side eye.

“Act like everything is fine.” He huffed, stalking across the floor before dropping into the seat besides his brother. “It’s not. You were gone for years, Years Y/N. I thought you were dead. I thought your body was lying in a ditch somewhere and I had no way of finding it. And now you tell us you’ve been hunting alone this whole time?!”

Your mouth snapped shut as you swallowed, suddenly falling silent once more as you looked at the jade eyed hunter before you. Maybe you shouldn’t have come back. This might have been your worst idea yet.

“I have been hunting alone and I’m damn good at it I’ll have you know. I’m sitting here alive aren’t I?”

“Yeah, and look at you-“ he reached across the table, picking up your bandaged hand and raising it. “You’re injured.”

“I’m fine.” Pulling your hand back, you brought your gaze towards the table, finding it hard to look at the hunter.

Upon seeing the obvious tension between the two, Sam pushed himself up from his seat. “I’ll go find the first aid kit, looks like you need to change the bandages.” He was gone before either of you could say anything.

“Why are you so upset with me? It’s just hunting, Dean. I’ve been doing it since I was a kid, just like you.”

You watched him drag a hand down his face, leaning forward on his elbows. “I’m upset because three and a half years ago I woke up and found my best friends room empty. I’m upset because you were just gone.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Best friends? Oh but I thought we had become something a little more than that right before I left?” You mocked.

There was a pause as he glared at you. “Well forgive me if I’m getting mixed signals as to where we’re at. You kinda just up and left without a word.” As he finished his sentence, a heavy band of silence stretched between you, neither of you know what to say.

“I-“

“Why’d you go?” He spoke up again, this time his voice breaking even though he had tried hard not to let it. His waver catching you off guard and making you look up.

Did he- did he have tears in his eyes?

“Oh Dean.” You sighed, shoulders falling as you took him in. You had never seen him like this, at least not in the instance of you being the cause of his obvious pain. “I had to.”

“If I- if I did something to you, if I hurt you I am so sorry-“

“No! No, you didn’t do anything to drive me away.” You quickly interjected, pushing you from your seat to round the table and sit next to him. “I chose to do it of my own volition.”

“Why? Why would you choose to go hunting by yourself?”

Letting out another deep sigh, you turned in your seat to face him, your bandaged hand going up to cup his cheek. “Go grab your keys. I’ll go get Sam.”

“Why?”

“ I think it’s time we take a drive.”

The road to where you were going was a long one that had Dean settled behind the wheel of the impala for several hours, Sam passed out in the back due to the fact that you had them ditching whatever sleep that had gotten back at the bunker. 

You on the other hand had yet to inform Dean as to where you were actually pointing him and what you were taking them to.

“You gonna fill me in on what the hell were doing?” He questioned, glancing over at you as he flexed his hands across the steering wheel. “Or you gonna make me figure that out for myself?”

“I made a deal.”

Dean almost slammed on the breaks right there, his head whipping back and forth from the road laid out in front of him to the y/e/c eyed hunter next to him.

“You WHat?!”

“It’s not what you think, Dean. Calm down.”

“I’m sorry, calm down?!”

Rolling your eyes, you trained your pupils on the pavement ahead. “Can you trust me for ten more minutes?”

Dean on that other hand was trying his best not to hit his head against the steering wheel and not have a full panic attack. “You know, you’re being strangely cryptic with your words, is it too much to ask for one clear answer?!”

“I don’t know how to give you a clear answer Dean!”

“Well try!”

“Why the hell are you two yelling?!”

Dean whipped his head around once more, looking over the seat at his brother. “She sold her soul!”

“What?”

“No! No I did not!” You interjected, annoyed that you were now having a yelling match with two worried hunters in a vehicle going over 70 miles an hour. “Now would the two of you shut the fuck up?!”

Thankfully both brothers snapped their mouths closed, Dean shaking his head in annoyance as he brought his attention back to the road. “I can’t believe you.”

“Dean, I literally just said I did not sell my soul. Now if you could hang tight for the last ten minutes of this drive, it would be greatly appreciated.”

The hunter let out a huff, choosing to stare daggers into the horizon. Dean trusted you- of course he trusted you but without proper information it felt like he was teetering on the edge of insanity. You show up after almost four years of absence and then whisk him and his brother away to god knows where without much of an explanation.

The moment Dean threw the car into park you were out of your seat as quickly as possible, almost like the leather beneath you had caught fire. The reality of what was happening finally settling into your bones.

“Alright, you gonna tell us now?” Dean mused, stepping out onto the asphalt as he slammed his door shut, crossing his arms over the roof of Baby.

Instead of answering him, you turned to his brother besides you. “You mind staying back for a few? I think Dean and I need to take this walk alone.”

There was a pause from the younger Winchester as he tried to read your features, slowly nodding a moment later. “Uh yeah. Yeah. Just call if you need anything.”

“Will do.” You nodded, turning back to the sidewalk and silently ushering Dean to follow you with your head.

“Sam’s not coming?”

“Told him to hang back for a few, now come on.” You swallowed, waiting for the hunter as he rounded the impala, tossing the keys to his brother with a swift flick of his wrist. His empty hand suddenly being filled by your own as you pulled him after you, slightly catching him off guard with the sudden force.

“Woah, no need to pull so hard.”

You muttered a quick apology, turning your gaze towards the cracks in the sidewalk. It had been a long time since you last set foot here, the suburban neighborhood slowly becoming more foreign to you.

“You ever gonna fill me in on why you had me drive the three of us to a suburban neighborhood in Noxville Tennessee?”

“Yes! Yes I am- I just don’t know how.”

“Well you gotta give me something Sweetheart. Earlier I almost had a heart attack when you said you had made a deal, so forgive me for poking.”

“It’s not anything life threatening if that’s what you think.” You swallowed, relishing in the shade given off by the massive trees lining the sidewalk. “Okay, and deal probably wasn’t the best choice in words. It was more of a promise I made to myself the moment a left the bunker.”

You tried not to pay attention to the slight falter in his steps, or the confused look he was giving you. “Good god, Woman. You could have said that earlier and saved me a panic attack.”

“Once again, I’m sorry.” You sighed, finding you hand starting to cramp up from how tight you were squeezing his as you walked, you dropped his hand, allowing yours to go back to your side. “I promised myself that I wouldn’t come back under any circumstances, to keep you out of this. To keep everyone safe.”

“Your still not making much sense Y/N.”

“I know, I know! Just let me try to figure out how to say this.” You breathed, dragging your hands down your face. “I’m having trouble.”

“Why?”

Because of that. your head screamed as you brought your eyes up from the cracked pavement. Up ahead a woman around your age was walking down the other side of the sidewalk, a dog leash in one hand connected to a golden retriever and the small hand of a three year old in the other, the little girl occupied with hopping over the cracks in the sidewalk.

The woman suddenly caught sight of you, pausing momentarily before waving, in which you kindly returned the gesture before watching them turn and head up the walkway to the the porch of one of the houses. You were almost unaware of Dean following your gaze until he spoke up.

“You know her?”

“Uh yeah- yeah I do. She’s an old friend of mine.”

Your steps had slowed significantly, eyes glued on the porch and the trio occupying it.

“Huh, well that’s nice.” Dean nodded, slowing his own pace to match yours. “Maybe we can stop by later and say hi.”

“Yeah, maybe.” You mumbled, mind filled with other thoughts and memories as you tried to loosen the knots in your stomach.

“Cute kid. Clearly has a fascination with cracks in the sidewalk like you do.” He joked, almost bumping into you when you abruptly stopped in your tracks.

“Yeah. . .” You swallowed, finding the words stuck like molasses in your throat. It felt like every nerve in your body was shaking. “That’s because she’s ours.”

That got the hunter to freeze, mouth ever so slightly falling open as his eyes widened in pure confusion and shock, looking quickly back and forth between you and the small child sitting on the porch across the street, busying herself with sidewalk chalk.

You watched his lips move to form words but nothing came out, the Winchester struggling to speak what was stuck in his throat. “W-what?”

“She was born seven months after I left the bunker.” You swallowed, trying desperately to ignore the rapid staccato beat of your heart as you watched him process the information.

Dean swallowed, jaw clenching as he tried to figure out how to address the situation, eyes darting around as he thought. “You’re saying that’s our kid?”

“Yes. But she doesn’t know that of course. A few days after she was born, I asked my friend Cami to take her.”

Dean was doing his best not to make a scene on the quiet suburban street, but with you just having told him he had a kid, he was finding it to be increasingly difficult.

“That’s why you left. You were-“

“Pregnant. Yeah.”

Running a shaky hand over his face, Dean leaned his weight against the trunk of one of the massive trees lining the sidewalk. “You should have stayed. We’re your family, we would have kept you safe.”

You knew he would say that. His need to protect people far outweighed everything else in his life.

“And why tell me now if you were originally planning not to?”

“Because I can’t lie to you. I never could before. You deserve the truth.”

It was difficult to watch his reaction, because you couldn’t exactly pin point what he was thinking. He could be hard to read at times, especially in a situation like this.

“But why? Why would you give her away like that?” The desperation in his voice making you wince.

“You know why Dean. If monsters and demons caught wind of another Winchester in the world, they would be gunning for her for the rest of her life.” You paused, trying to fight the oncoming tears burning in your eyes. “I was getting her out of our lives before she was ever actually in it. I left without telling you because I didn’t want that decision weighing on you for the rest of you life. I made the choice and I chose to carry that weight alone.”

“Y/N, I should have had the option to make that decision too. She’s our kid.” He tried to mask the shakiness in his voice, “you don’t deserve to carry that weight by yourself.” Dean shook his head. He loved you, and without even meeting her, he knew he loved the little one across the street as well . . .and his heart was a mess because of it.

“I know that now, and I’m sorry.”

Another pause and then he slowly nodded, eyes on the ground. “So she doesn’t know who we are?”

“No. If she does she only knows me as aunt Y/N. Nothing else. I haven’t seen her in three years, Dean.”

Dean never really thought he would find himself in a situation like this. But now as he stood there looking at you, he wanted nothing more than to ditch hunting. And when he looked over his shoulder at the three year old he felt his heart skip. Even from afar he could see the resemblance to both you and him. Her honey colored hair the same shade as his when he was a kid.

“Why’d you bring me here?”

“Because I’m giving you a choice now, Dean.” You breathed, still not entirely sure if this whole thing was a good idea. But you loved Dean, and he deserved to have a say in the future. “We can either walk across this street, or we can turn and walk away and forget we were ever here, guaranteeing her safety 100%.”

You watched the muscles in his jaw tighten once more, jade irises darting between your and the small girl sitting across the street, attention on the chalk art in front of her. You knew he had made up his mind when he took a deep breath, shoulders falling.

“Whether you choose to go forward or backwards, I’ll go with you.”

And so after a lifetime of hunting and learning from mistakes and triumphs, Dean Winchester took your hand and made his decision- and you followed, because if anyone knew what was best for your child, it was him.

The End.

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[photographercbarker]

New Year’s Eve // Brittany & Caleb

Who: Brittany S.Pierce & Caleb Barker

When: December 30th, 2019

Where: Caleb’s apartment

Notes: After the wedding, Brittany went back to Caleb’s house to feed his cat to see a surprise.

Triggers: None.

OOC: Sorry that we took this long to write this para and post it, but enjoy!

Brittany was so tired for the events that had happened today. She couldn't believe that Charice called off the wedding and decided that she wanted to be with Dylan. Don't get her wrong she was happy for Charice. But she felt bad that Trey got hurt. As she was driving down the street, she realized that she was going to be home alone on New Year’s Eve. Arianna was with her parents and Chris?! He obviously wanted to be anywhere that she wasn't.  She sighed softly, thinking how she didn't want to go out with her friends, but she also didn't want to go home to a quiet house. Brittany literally felt alone for the first time in a while. All her friends were out having fun with their loved one and she didn't want to go to her parents’ house. Because they would realize something was up.  Her mind started to wonder about Caleb, and what he was up too. She was sad that he couldn’t come home like he had planned on it. But she was proud of him and how well his career was going thanks to his hard work. “Oh! I should probably go feed Caleb's cat! I promised him I would." she said to herself as she turned to make a right, heading toward his house.

Caleb had a lot of things going on, between his parents trying to reach out to him and making sure he was okay, to his job and assignments to his feelings for Brittany. He let out a sigh as he drove back into town, knowing that he had missed Charice's wedding, but part of him was glad that he had missed it, or he was sure he would've done something stupid. He rolled his eyes at himself as he turned onto the street to his place and drummed his fingers on the steering wheel as he waited for the light to change color.

Brittany continue to drive, hating how bad the traffic was. She knew that everyone was heading down to time square so they could watch the ball drop. But seriously all she wanted to do is get to her friend’s house in one piece she could check on his cat. ten minutes passed by and she was finally able to make it to Caleb's house in one piece. She pulled up into the driveway, smiling sadly when she realized that she hadn't seen her friend in months. She missed the hell out of him. So much has happened, and she really needed him. She got out the car, quickly walking up the stairs, looking into the flowerpot to grab the key that he left. Once she unlocked the door, she got into the house, looking down to see Caleb's cat looking up at her. "Hello Pretty!" she smiled, kneeling to pet the cat. "Let's go get you something to eat huh?" she said, watching the cat nuzzling in her arms. She walked into the big kitchen, placing the cat on the floor, so she could grab the container of cat food.

Caleb did a small fist pump as he started to move in traffic and headed to his place. Once he reached there, he slowed down when he noticed Brittany's car and parked behind her. He grabbed his things, closed the door, and locked it before he made his way up to his place. "Hello?" He called out when he walked into the place.

Brittany just got done feeding the cat, smiling down at the poor hungry thing. "I know you can't wait for him to come back; I know I can-" she stopped, hearing the door open. She knew Caleb had friends, but she also knew that if anyone had the key to his house, he would have told her. She got ready to tip toe to the kitchen draws to pull out a knife. But stopped when she heard Caleb's voice. "Oh, thank god" she breathed, running toward the living room. "Caleb!" she squealed running toward the man, helping him put his things down. She quickly pulled him into a big hug. "Oh my god! I missed you!" she giggled. She was so happy to see her best friend, he had been gone for only few months, but it seemed like years to her.

Caleb placed his Louisville slugger back where he kept it when he heard Brittany's voice, letting out a breath of relief when he saw her. "Brittany!" He said as she helped him and closed the door with his foot. He returned the hug, couldn’t help but smile as he kept her close to him and rubbed her back. "I missed you, too." He said as he slightly pulled back to look at her. "I almost hit you with my bat."

Brittany giggled as he pulled back so they could see each other’s face. "Yeah! and I almost stabbed you with a knife!" she said hitting him gently on the arm "You scared me!" she said, reaching to cup his face. "But I'm so glad to see you!" she said kissing his cheek softly.

Caleb laughed when she hit him on the arm and rubbed where she hit him. "Hey, I'm sorry." He said. He swallowed hard when she cupped his cheeks and kissed his cheek. "It’s good to see you too, how come you're not at the wedding?"

Brittany squinted her eyes at him "You better be!" she playfully scolded. She was so happy to finally see him again. Over the past two years it seemed like she and Caleb were always together. She had hired him to take pictures of her new Studio and help tape the dance practice so she could post them on her new Website that he also helps create. So basically, they spent a lot of time together and they were able to get even closer than they already were.  She sighed at his question, walking over to sit on his couch "Well, um. The wedding didn't happen. Charice realized that she still had feelings for Dylan." She shrugged a bit. "I was on my way home. So, I decided to just come by to feed your buddy over here" she smiled watching the cat, walk into the room.

Caleb let out a laugh when she playfully scolded him and pouted as he looked at her. He followed her to the couch, rose an eyebrow as she spoke, leaned against it as he watched her. "Oh, damn. No one saw that one coming." He commented, pushed himself off the couch and nodded as his cat walked into the room. "I appreciate it, by the way. Are you thirsty?"

Brittany smiled sadly, she hated that things didn't work out for Charice and Trey. But she was happy that her friend did the wrong thing and called off the wedding. If she was having any doubts then it was for the best, not only for her but for Trey. "Yeah, I just hope Trey gets over it and able to move on. He was a good guy." She said, nodding her head when he offered her a drink "Yes please," She sighed. "This is some New Years. I didn't really expect to be spending it like this." She said honestly.

Caleb listened to her as he grabbed some bottles of water then headed back into the living room where Brittany was at. "I bet he was." He said as he handed her the bottle. "Oh?" He looked at her once he sat down in his chair that he had.

Brittany sadly thought how her New Year’s Eve was going, while Caleb went to go get them something to drink. If you had asked her what her perfect New Year’s night was going to be, it was spending it with Chris and their daughter like they did last year. Where they played games and do a bunch of fun things as a family. Sure, last year she was a little down about not having Sam and Mercedes around, but at least she had her boyfriend and her daughter. Now, her daughter was with her parents and Chris was nowhere near her. Even though this was her fault, she still felt alone with him. She thought for sure that they would have made up by now, but with Chris sleeping on the couch and them barely talking, it was making things worst. Brittany looked up to see Caleb, grabbing the water from him. “Thanks," she whispered, taking a deep breath "Remember last week, I told you that Chris and I weren't talking? I thought that within time we would work things out. Well, we didn't. If anything, it made things worse. " She sadly smiled. "I-I don't know if there is a future for him and me, and that scares me Caleb.” She paused for a minute, feeling tears started to form in her eyes. “I can't live without him." She said, feeling her tears running down her face. "I'm sorry. I'm not trying to ruin your night." She sniffled, putting the water on the coffee table so she could wipe away her tears.

Caleb nodded. "You're welcome." He replied in the same tone of voice. He slowly nodded, remembering the conversation that they had about her and Chris. "Then, my advice is for you to try and work things out between him since you do have a daughter with him. Ari probably sees you guys not getting along and that's not helping her out in any way. I know for sure if I noticed my parents were barley around each other and not talking, I would be worried." He sighed when he heard her, got up and sat down next to her before he started to rub her back. "No need to apologize for having feelings and showing emotion.” He paused a bit before he continued. “You're not ruining my night." He offered her a small smile.

Brittany sniffled as she listened to Caleb and his advice. The minute he mentioned Arianna she couldn't help but cry even more. She had been so wrapped up in not only working and her fight with Chris, that she had neglected her daughter even more. "God I'm such a bad mom." She cried, shaking her head. "Chris is right. I have been so selfish and so wrapped up in my own feelings. I-I haven't been the best girlfriend or mother." She admitted. Brittany leaned against the couch, thinking about all the times she had the chance to make things right with her family. She didn't. Instead, she ran and put herself even more into her work, making the situation even worse than what it was. All she had to do was be open and honest with Chris about what was going on with her, then everything would have been okay.  She didn’t want her daughter to think that her parents don't love each other, or think it’s okay to ignore other people’s feelings, because it wasn't. She knew that she had to fix things with her boyfriend, but tonight she was going to spend time with her best friend, who once again helped her when she needed him most. Brittany smiled sadly through her tears at Caleb. "You're right. I need to fix this. I just hope it's not too late." She whispered, wiping her tears away. She looped her arm through his. "I'm so lucky to have you for a friend Caleb." She sniffled, moving closer to him, so she could lay her head on her shoulder. "I love you." she smiled.

Caleb reached over, before he pulled her into a hug and rubbed her back. "You're not a bad mom, Brittany. These kinds of things happen, all the time." He replied. He listened to her, having his heart going out to her and let out a sigh. He pulled away slightly and unwrapped his arm from around her. "It’s never too late to fix this, Brit. Life's not always sunshine and rainbows like we would want it to be. Things came up, feelings happen, and sometimes we have to wait out the storm." He glanced down at her, swallowed rather hard when he heard her let out a shaky breath. "I love you too."

Brittany hugged him back, nodding her head gently at his words. "I know. I didn't think it would happen to me and Chris. I mean we have had fights before, but we always made up quickly." She sniffled, feeling Caleb pulling away, only for him to wrap his arm around her. "I hope so. I can't lose him not only is he the love of my life. He’s also my best friend." she smiled sadly, thinking about how much she deeply missed Chris. She missed them just being them, goofy, loud, and just enjoying each other's company.  "You're right. You are right; I'm going to fix this. I'm going to show him that him and Ari means the world too me." She said, giggled when Caleb told her that he loved her. "Of course, you do, I'm adorable." she said, leaning up to kiss his cheek. "Thank you again. I truly don't deserve you Caleb," She said, wiping the rest of her tears of her face with her free hand.  Brittany sat there for a second, trying to collect herself, realizing that she didn't ask him how his trip was. "Oh! I'm so selfish" she quickly moved to face him, letting out a giggle. "I forgot to ask you how was your trip? Did you go somewhere pretty?”

Caleb listened to Brittany as she spoke. "It happens to a bunch of couples, just because you guys made up quickly in the past. Doesn't mean it will be the same now. Things change, people change, feelings change." He said. He felt his heart dropped, even though he already knew that he had no chance to be with her. "You're not going to lose him, Brittany." He unwrapped his arms from around her and listened to her, slowly nodded a bit. "Then, go out there and show them." Caleb shrugged a bit. "I don't know, Sam's pretty adorable, so there's that." He teased and shook his head. "No, I should actually charge you guys from now on." He teased gently. "Nah, I don't really want to talk about my trip. It was good, it was pretty but I rather not right now, if that's okay?"

Brittany sat there quietly thinking about Caleb’s words. She knew that he was right, people do change and so do feelings. She knew that she was the one that was changing. From the arguments she had with Chris, and even her own family. The changes that she has been making aren't great. Chris wasn’t the only one that had accused her of not being present, her family had too. At this point, she couldn’t be mad because she knew she was running from the issues at hand. She just didn’t know how to deal with it. Deal with her family and Chris being disappointed in her, and from the feelings that she had been suppressing when it comes to Chris. She sighed softly thinking it was time for her to face her fears. She just hoped it wasn’t too late to fix things with Chris. “I’m going to talk to him. I need to fix this for our sakes and for our daughter.” she said softly, giving Caleb a warm smile. “Thank you for being here for me again. Sometimes I feel like you’re the only one on my side.” she said honestly. She truly was grateful for Caleb, no matter what he was going through he always dropped things just to be there for her. Sometimes she felt she really didn’t deserve him. She chuckled lightly at his encouragement leaning her head on his shoulder. “I will, but tonight. It’s you and me. We can do whatever you want” she said, raising her head up to look at him.  "Wait. You think Sam is more adorable" she playfully pouted, moving away from him. "Here I thought I was the adorable blonde. Come to find out you think my twin is.'' she joked smiling at the thought of Sam. "He is pretty adorable for his age." she chuckled. Brittany really did want to know how Caleb's trip went, but he seemed a little off when quickly insisted on not talking about it. She was going to push, but she didn't want to ruin his homecoming. "Oh. Okay, well we have one hour before the ball drops. What would you like to do?” She asked.

Caleb shrugged a bit at it, knowing that he would always be there for Brittany, no matter how he was feeling. "Hey, no, you're the guest and I think you should choose on what we do." He smiled as he met her eyes and glanced down at her pout before he shook his head, holding back from kissing her. "He is, but you're more adorable than he is. By far." He hummed a bit before he ran his hands against his pants legs. "We could play some video games or watch a show on Netflix?"

Brittany giggled when he told her she was more adorable “Yes! I’m still the most adorable person in the world.” She cheered as she danced in her seat. She looked up at Caleb, running her hand down his cheek “You’re such a good man Caleb, whoever earns your heart. She will truly be one lucky girl,” She sighed softly. “Just promise me you will always be a part of my life,” Brittany nodded her head when Caleb suggested something for them to do. “Hmm, you know I am pretty good at Mario go cart,” She smiled mischievously.

Caleb swallowed thickly when he felt her hand on his cheek and licked his lips a bit as he stared at her. He rested his forehead against hers gently and looked into her blue eyes. "I promise I will always be a part of your life." He whispered and chuckled when she said Mario go cart. "It's actually called Mario Kart, but yeah, we can play that game." He gotten up to switch out the game and placed Mario Kart into the Switch. They played some video games before the ball dropped and Caleb saw Brittany out. Things have changed for Caleb and he knew that he had to be extra careful.

[otonymous]

Served (MLQC Victor) - Chapter 4: Lady In Red

Description: Victor whips it out…(exactly what remains to be seen) Warnings: N/A Word Count: 1722 words (~9 mins of “will they or won’t they?!”) AO3: read here Author’s Notes: If you’re still reading, thanks for sticking around for this crazy ride!  Hope you all enjoy this chapter 😊

Jump to other chapters: Chapter 1| Chapter 2| Chapter 3| Chapter 5 

All characters & Mr Love: Queen’s Choice owned by Elex

You: Sorry again about tonight.  I had no idea we’d be interrupted twice.

Victor: Thrice.

You:  Oh right, the delivery man.

Victor: You’re quite popular.

You: Come on, the delivery guy doesn’t count!

Victor: No, but the sender of the package does.  How do you know Kiro?

You: That’s...a long story.  Why, are you a fan?  Want me to get you an autograph?

Victor: What makes you think I don’t already have one?

You: Never mind then.  By the way, tonight’s dinner doesn’t count.  Let me take you out for a proper meal, one that isn’t burnt beyond recognition.  I’ll treat you to whatever you want!

Victor: ...

After a solid two minutes, the ellipses were finally replaced by words.

Victor: Friday after work.  I’ll pick you up at your office.

You: Ok!  See you then.

Just when you begin to worry about whether or not your account balance can contend with Victor’s upscale tastes, a notification sounds on your phone.

Victor: Don’t be late. Victor: And keep Thursday evening free.

You: Why Thursday evening?

Victor: Just do it.

You: But what are we doing?

Victor: Must you ask so many questions?

You: Must you be so secretive?

God.  Victor will be Victor.  Rolling your eyes, you relent, thumbs flying across the onscreen keyboard:

You: Fine.  Will there be anything else, Your Royal Highness?

Suddenly, your phone rings  — “Victor Li, LFG CEO” displayed on the screen.

“Hel—“

“Don’t get cheeky.”  

The line cuts before you have a chance to respond.  Even still, you swear you sensed a smile in the deep bass of his voice.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Carpets so plush you felt the give in the textile as you walked.  The sweet, subtle scent of fresh jasmine in the air.  Soft light inviting as it glanced off buttery leather ottomans, highlighting luxe fabrics and elegant hues hung with care on racks like so many pieces of art.

Your palms had started to sweat as soon as you stepped foot in that designer boutique.  Surely Victor knows your company isn’t doing THAT well!

“Victor, why are we here?”  Speaking in a hushed tone, you glance up at him, telling yourself the flutter in your stomach was due to the impending damage to your credit card and not how handsome this dictator looked in profile.

But before he can respond, a saleslady rushes over, smiling from ear to ear. “Hello Mr Li!  We’ve been expecting you.  The dresses have been set aside as you’ve requested, if you and the lady would please follow me.  May I get you anything to drink?”

As soon as you enter a dressing room the size of your apartment, you are greeted by your bewildered expression reflecting off a wall of mirrors.  And to the side, a rack of dresses — all of impeccable taste, all carrying price tags with an impossible number of zeroes.

Waiting till the saleslady was out of ear shot, you hiss from behind the door as you pull your blouse over your head.  “Seriously Victor, what’s going on?  Why am I trying on dresses I could never afford in this lifetime?  Wait…don’t tell me…of course!  It all makes sense now!”

Seated in a velvet settee on the other side of the door, Victor takes a sip of his espresso, the corners of his lips tugging up into an amused smile.  “What makes sense?”

Adjusting the straps of a silk dress onto your shoulders, you reach for the zipper on the side as you say,  

“You know, I’ll be your model for tonight.  But I warn you, I don’t exactly have Chik’s physique, so the next time you want to buy a girl a dress, you ought to bring her here yourself.  All the same, I can’t say I don’t understand you wanting to give your girlfriend a surprise.”

Smile transforms into a frown as espresso flows down the wrong tube, Victor coughing so violently you open the door just wide enough to poke your head out to ensure the man was still alive.

“How can anyone be so thick in the head?”  His eyes flash with annoyance.

“What, am I wrong?  The tabloids had pictures of the two of you together at the Loveland City Film Festival—”

“Which was sponsored in large part by LFG.  As CEO, of course I had to make an appearance on opening night.”

“But what about all the gossip sites saying you took her to Saint-Tropez for a romantic getaway a few months ago?”

“And you believe that garbage?”

“I…I suppose not.  So…if not Chik, then…”

Suddenly nervous to see the expectation in his gaze as it searched your own, you retreat back into the dressing room, voice trailing off as you lean against the door.

A revelation had floated in the depths of your subconscious for a while since you’ve known Victor, surfacing periodically with every instance of hard-won praise, every disguised gesture of kindness…every moment when your heart ached to find him studying you with the softest eyes when he thought you were unaware.

But he was Victor Li, the man with the most financial clout in Loveland City.  The prodigy of the business world who built an entire empire with his own two hands, all before the age of thirty.  Tall, dark and handsome, Victor was considered a highly coveted prize by young and beautiful socialites and celebrities the world over.

He was also the man who held the fate of your company in his grasp.

The idea of you and Victor together was just too unbelievable, and you suddenly felt uncomfortable under the spotlight of his attention, wishing the man had lectured you instead.

For you were used to his sass and sarcasm.  What you hadn’t anticipated was…his affection.

To your relief, Victor doesn’t press the issue, waiting patiently as you parade in and out of the dressing room until you emerge in elegant crimson.  And it isn’t until you catch his reflection in the mirror — staring intently at the curve of your exposed back — that your cheeks warm to match the shade draped across your body.

Victor swallows, throat bobbing as he nods at you.  Then, summoning the saleslady with the slight raise of one hand, he says without ever taking his eyes off you, “We’ll take this one.”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The drive to your apartment was silent but lacked the usual ease you felt with Victor in his car.  The dress he bought for you — cooly whipping out his black card without even so much as glancing at the price tag — sat heavy on your lap, weighed down by the implications of the evening’s events.

In accepting his gift, you couldn’t help but think you were crossing the line from something that was purely professional into…what?  Just what was it that Victor wanted from you?  It was difficult to know, because the man was hardly forthcoming with his thoughts when it extended to anything beyond matters of business.

But then again, what of your desires?

You snuck a glance at him.  Features looking like they were chiseled from stone, Victor’s eyes were trained on the road, large hands soft as they rested on the steering wheel.  And as his chest rose and fell slowly beneath his seat belt, the rhythm of your own breath unconsciously matched his, that is, until the gentle flex of his forearms — visible with the sleeves of his dress shirt folded up neatly to the elbows —  made it race once more.

You knew what you wanted.  You just knew better than to ask for the impossible to happen.

“Goodnight, Victor.  Thanks for the lift.”

“Wait.”  He lays his hand on top of yours, the electricity of his touch rendering you still in the midst of unbuckling your seat belt.  Your breath catches in your throat.

Then slowly…slowly…the features of his face draw close, notes of cedar wood and pine warmed by the heat of his body to drift in enveloping currents until all you could focus on was the impossible length of his eyelashes — how had you not noticed them before?

Just when the proximity makes you think to close your eyes, Victor reaches behind you to retrieve an elegantly wrapped gift box from the back seat.

“Wait until you’re home to open it.”  Breath brushing against the shell of your ear, you fight to suppress a shiver of pleasure, biting down hard on the inside of your cheek.  

Then, over as soon as it began, Victor drew away, the air around you suddenly cooler for want of his warm body.  

“Also…you looked stunning.  Ahem.  In that dress.”

Hand paused on the car door, you were rendered speechless for the second time that night.  Glancing at Victor, you were relieved to see him staring straight ahead; it embarrassed you to know that one little comment could bring so much heat to your face.

“Thank you…Victor.”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Victor’s voice stayed with you long after his car pulled away into the night.  Still you stood, hands splayed against your apartment window as you willed your heart to calm.

For there on your coffee table, lying amidst mounds of tissue paper and an open gift box, were a gorgeous pair of red-soled stilettos and fine stockings.  But what touched you most were ink and paper, Victor’s thoughts conveyed in fine cursive:

“Shoes and stockings to replace the broken and torn.  I had meant to give them to you as thanks for dinner that night but, as you know full well, was denied the opportunity.  Please accept the dress as an apology for the tardiness of my token of appreciation.”

Then, almost as an afterthought, the final line:

“Wear all three to dinner on Friday.”  

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Thank you so much for reading!  Check out more of my work here! 📚

[collapsingintojupiter]

An Analogical Christmas

Merry Christmas, Circuit. <3 I love you dude, thanks for the fun times we’ve had together. 

---

So as you all know, it is now Christmas. And for my lovely friend @short-circut, I wrote a fluffy little Christmas oneshot for Analogical. 

Enjoy.

___

It was 5 am. Logan stood over his and Virgil’s bed, holding his phone and squinting at the message he’d left himself on there. It was something Virgil had told him some time ago, something about how his Christmases had used to be when he was a kid--back before his life had spiraled, and they had met, and their new life had begun in the ashes of the old. Such a long time ago but…Logan remembered. He always did.

A tired blue light shone on his face as he read over the note again.

They always had the Christmas tree all strung up in the corner of the living room, with the lights on so that it was the first thing me and my brothers saw when we came downstairs. Each of us had a special ornament with our name on it, and we could hang it wherever we wanted.

On Christmas morning when we came downstairs my mom and pop would have cookies and cocoa waiting for us—it was the only time we were ever allowed to eat in the living room, and the only time we could eat that kinda junk so early in the morning. We’d watch a movie together, and then my mom would have us open the presents. We’d play in the snow…

Logan knew how impossible it would be to recreate all of that perfectly, but he remembered the details Virgil had told him so vividly for a reason—he knew he hadn’t imagined the sharp bittersweet look on Virgil’s face as he recounted the memories, memories that were clearly something very special and happy to him. And while his husband’s situation was worlds away from what it had been this year, Logan still wanted to be able to make this day special for his husband.

Which brought him back to why he was desperately trying to wake himself up as he quietly pulled a tree into the house from the garage—it wasn’t real, he hadn’t been able to get one of those, but he thought it would do—setting it up as carefully and silently as he could in the corner of the living room. He and Virgil had both been so stressed that neither had thought much about Christmas this year...at least, that was how it had been until a week ago, when they’d shared old memories and Virgil’s Christmas ones had tumbled from him in a messy sort of sadness and happiness, and Logan had made his mind up—he was going to make his Star a special surprise for this Christmas…something that, he hoped, could make Virgil smile.

It was 3am. Virgil was stressed, Logan was tired, and somehow they’d both found themselves downstairs with mugs of hot chocolate in their hands. Logan had looked at Virgil with a chocolate moustache he didn’t know was there, and when his husband saw it he smiled; then laughed.

Everyone deserved to smile on Christmas. And with the year the couple had had this time around, with its rough spots and hard times and too much stress, Logan felt that Virgil especially deserved it. And while he was no master of emotions, he would do anything to make his Star smile. Anything.

It took some digging around, but after a bit of searching Logan unearthed an old box of ornaments and cautiously brought it to the living room. He took out a blue and a purple one and set those aside, then got to work setting up the tree. It wasn’t large and Logan had never claimed to be much of a decorator…but he did his best to set the display up in what he thought was a pleasing array of lights, ornaments, and a silver garland to complete the look.

It was raining. Logan gripped the steering wheel in his hands as water splattered over the windshield, maneuvering their car as best he could over the wet streets. Their town’s lights shone through the raindrops on the windshield in a golden wash of light, illuminating a sleeping Virgil who’d curled up in the passenger’s seat. Logan felt his irritation and stress melt away at the peaceful look on his face, and how beautiful he was in the golden light that swept over his soft patch hoodie…he looked like an angel, he’d thought.

Next, Logan moved on to the kitchen. There he meticulously followed a recipe for molasses cookies—Virgil’s favorite, he’d learned not long after the two started dating. Neither of them were a fan of the usual decorated sugar cookies, and though Virgil had described those as being part of his childhood memories Logan thought he might appreciate these more…he hoped he was right about that.

Laughter. So much laughter; the kind that made tears stream from your eyes and your stomach hurt from it all. Patton, covered in flour and Virgil no less affected, both of them staring at each other with wide eyes and clothes covered in white powder. They’d been baking a cake for Roman’s birthday, and had turned on the mixer too fast. The kitchen was a mess, and Logan just couldn’t stop laughing. Soon the other two joined in, and then they all collapsed to the floor, snickering and giggling until they looked at each other and it all started up again.

Logan moved with a deathly quiet as he got everything set up—Virgil was a notoriously light sleeper, and the slightest sound could awaken him and ruin the whole thing, so he had to be as careful as possible getting everything ready. Luckily however Logan was experienced in such things—both in committing to his late-night wanderings without waking his husband, and without being much of a loud sort in general.

The lamp was on. And though it was the time of night when anybody with an ounce of sanity was unconscious, they were both awake. Logan, who read from a book about space aloud to Virgil, who’d had a nightmare. He leaned against Logan’s shoulder, eyes closed while his hands shook and Logan read; read on in a gentle, steady voice. And soon, Virgil had fallen to sleep again, and Logan let him lean against him. He’d let his husband sleep while he could.

It was now approaching 7am. Logan set out the still-warm cookies on the table, plugged in the tree, and wrapped up the peppermint/hot chocolate/coffee concoction he’d created (Virgil’s favorite) to leave in the fridge until the proper time came to heat it up. He pulled a few small gifts he’d been saving and ever-so carefully wrapped them, placing them gently under the tree before retiring back to bed.

Upon returning to their room Logan saw that his mission had been a success—Virgil had hardly stirred since he disappeared, and only mumbled something about waffles before shifting over as Logan rejoined him.

Success.

---

A few hours later, something nudged him awake.

“Mmm, Logan.” Logan opened his eyes to see Virgil leaning over him, a tired lopsided grin plastered on his face. “Morning. Merry Chris’mas.” Logan allowed himself to smile at his husband and sat up, letting Virgil draw him into a hug. The soft material of his purple sweater was soft, and gentle, and Logan closed his eyes as he rested his cheek on Virgil’s shoulder.

“I love you, Star,” he whispered.

“I love you too.” Virgil got up and started towards the door, not bothering to change out of his black-and-white skeleton pajama pants. Logan followed him; keeping his face neutral so as not to give away the surprise. His husband rubbed at his eyes as he stepped out into the hallway…

And stopped.

“Logan?” Virgil whispered, staring at the staircase in shock as he saw what was behind it. “Is that…is that a tree? Did…did you…” Logan walked up beside him and smiled a little, watching Virgil as he nearly ran down the stairs to the living room. His jaw dropped at the sight of the Christmas tree before him and he froze for a moment, slowly taking the scene in.

“I…I don’t know what to say,” he whispered after a long moment, turning to Logan with tears in his eyes. “I can’t believe you remembered…this is amazing, Logan.”

“Merry Christmas,” Logan told him, and Virgil rushed into his arms with a quiet, choked thank you. He could only nod; he wasn’t sure how long they stood there, just holding each other, but he couldn’t have been happier about it. He couldn’t have been happier to see Virgil looking so delighted to see his memories come to life, to know that he’d done something good…and while he wasn’t sure he wanted to admit it, it made him feel good too.

Virgil suddenly sniffed at the air, and his eyes widened.

“Are those…are those molasses cookies?” he whispered incredulously, looking down at the plate he hadn’t noticed before.

“Indeed they are. I also made you some hot chocolate…” Logan disappeared into the kitchen, and came back a few minutes later with two steaming mugs, one of which he passed off to his husband. Virgil slowly sank down onto the sofa as he looked at the hot chocolate in his hands, not bothering to wipe away the tears that quietly slipped down his cheeks at the sight.

“Is everything okay, Virgil?” Logan asked, frowning a little. His husband gave him a watery smile.

“More than okay,” he whispered. “So much more than okay…”

“I also…I believe that this was a part of your tradition, as well?” Logan hesitantly pulled out the two ornaments he’d set aside earlier, one with the name Virgil and the other with the name Logan painted on it in perfectly neat letters. Virgil let out a soft gasp as he saw the them, gingerly taking his ornament and staring at it. Another tear slid down his cheek, and he smiled.

“Oh my god…you remembered all of it...” he looked at Logan with shining eyes and then took both of the ornaments, standing up and hanging them next to each other on the tree. Then he came back, curling up against Logan and they both watched the snow fall outside the window.

For a long time, they were both quiet. Each of them enjoyed the silence, taking the time to appreciate it with their cookies and hot chocolate. Virgil stared out the window, and Logan noted after some time that his eyes were distant; remembering.

Then, Virgil started to hum. It was a familiar tune, the kind you recognized immediately and the kind that got played way too often in shopping malls around Christmastime. But here…here, in their quiet, little house curled up next to each other, watching the snow fall…

It was beautiful.

Then Virgil started to sing.

Silent Night, Holy Night

All was calm, all was bright,

At first Logan was too shocked to do anything but stare at his husband in an awed silence, amazed once again by the incredible singing voice of Virgil that he so rarely heard. But then the tune wrapped him in its sweet embrace, and he felt himself joining in as the last part of the verse came around.

Sleep in heavenly peace,

Sleep in heavenly peace.

The two stopped as the song ended, then slowly turned and looked at each other. Virgil smiled at Logan, the little half-smile that he loved so much, and then hugged him.

“Thank you,” he whispered. “Thank you for bringing me back.”

Logan pressed a butterfly-light kiss to his forehead.

 And there they stayed for a long time, curled into each other’s sides, watching the snow fall. Enjoying the silence; enjoying each other; enjoying their memories.

Because really, when you had with you the person you loved most in the world, nothing else really mattered.

 Merry Christmas everybody.

[robinrunsfiction]

The Fantastic Adventures of Glitter Ghost and Killer Lux - Chapter 1

Co-Written with @mariawritesfanfic

Rating: Teen (for violence)

Requested By: None

Author’s Note: Set in the Danger Days universe, please enjoy this story featuring both the Fabulous Killjoys, the Youngbloods, and a couple of two badass babes who are looking to tear down BLI. 

I’m gonna take advantage of the fact that I am the one posting this to give a MASSIVE thank you to Maria for writing this with me. It wouldn’t be half of what you see here if it wasn’t for her help, and I really appreciate her patience with me and my tendency to get a bit too wrapped up in stuff sometimes and probably got kinda annoying with all my inane questions lol

I know I don’t write many OCs, but I really have come to love these two and I hope you do too.

Song recommendations for this chapter: Bad Girls by MIA and I Did Something Bad by Taylor Swift

"Lux, get up. Lux, come on, get up," Glitter Ghost shook Killer Lux's shoulder as she lay on the ground. Suddenly a shot went right over her head. Looking up, she spotted a Drac as it rounded the corner of the burning building. Glitter grumbled as she grabbed her gun and dropped the Drac right where he stood.

"Fastest 'joy in the Zones my ass," Glitter muttered pulling Lux to her feet and hauled her to their car. 

She pushed Lux into the passenger seat and climbed into the driver's side. It wouldn't be long before the area was crawling with S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W Units and Dracs. The mission went well; she secured the perimeter while Lux got inside and set her explosive that was rigged to a timer. Lux had assured Glitter over and over that she was fast enough on her feet to get out before it blew. But either Lux was wrong, or something happened because she had barely gotten out before the building went up, tossing her body across the ground. Now she was finally coming to, groaning in the passenger seat. 

"Lux, you ok? Come on, get it together," Glitter urged worriedly, glancing across the car. Lux just groaned again in response.

The rest of the drive was silent as Glitter sped along the back route until the car started to make a noise she hadn't heard before.

"No, no, no, no!" She said banging on the steering wheel as the vehicle began to slow. She steered it to the side of the road and popped the hood although it was dark and she didn't know what to even start looking for to solve the problem of them being a couple of sitting ducks waiting for Dracs on patrol to come ghost her and Lux. Slamming the hood back down resulted in a wide-eyed and terrified looking Lux staring back at her from the passenger seat. 

Glitter sighed and looked up the road. Under the moonlight, she thought she could make out the silhouette of a building not far in the distance.

"Stay down," she said to Lux through the cracked window.

"Huh?" 

"Stay down," she shouted, motioning downward. She wasn't sure if Lux was complying or losing consciousness again, but she slid down in the seat.

Glitter jogged toward the silhouette, and as she got closer, she saw that it was an old burned outbuilding of some sort. Enough of the walls were standing that it would offer them shelter until she could puzzle out what was wrong with the car or find someone to help.

She hurried back to the car and opened the back door, pulling out their bags and hauling them over her shoulder, then she opened the passenger side door, causing Lux to jump.

"Shit, you can't hear a thing, can you?" Glitter muttered. She motioned for Lux to get out of the car. 

Lux moved slowly, groaning as she stood. "Feel like I got blown up," she mumbled.

"You did," Glitter said close to her friend's ear, as she pulled Lux's left arm over her right shoulder to help her down to the shelter. She just hoped their next move would be clear in the morning. 

~

It was a few days before Killer Lux finally began to get back to her version of normal. Glitter's assumption that her hearing was blown out was correct, but as it slowly came back, it didn't appear to be a permanent injury. 

"I'm just glad that my jacket didn't get wrecked," Lux commented as she examined the back of her wine-colored leather motorcycle jacket.

"Yea, because you could've gotten yourself dusted, but what really matters is that your jacket is ok," Glitter scoffed from under the hood of the car.

"But I got out, didn't I?" Lux sassed back.

"Barely."

"I tripped, ok? If I hadn't, I would have made it out no problem. And we'd still be stuck on the side of the road. Can we just walk? There's gotta be someone nearby that can at least help with the car."

Glitter sighed before slamming the hood shut. "Fine, we'll leave when the sun starts to set, so we don't roast alive."

Satisfied with her friend's concession, Lux grinned and started to wander back towards the shelter. The morning sun felt good against her bare shoulders after the frigid desert night. She tugged down the hem of her navy top over her faded black moto jeans and stifled a yawn. When she was back in the shade of their shelter, she pushed her black sunglasses up into her dark brown hair, unstrapped her black blaster and holster from around her thigh and laid down with her back against the wall, using her jacket as a pillow.

Lux really didn't try to worry about much in life. In the Zones, with BLI running things, she knew she wasn't long for this world, no Killjoy was. All she really cared about was having a little fun when she could, helping her partner in crime, Glitter Ghost, take down as many Dracs as possible, and running free in the desert without drawing too much attention to herself.

Not like Glitter, who was made to stand out. With her hot pink hair, a black polka-dotted shirt that strategically revealed just enough of her lace bra, baby pink moto jacket and an ever-present sheen of glitter that defied all logic, she grabbed attention no matter where they went. She was also obviously a total badass with her knee-high combat boots, pink blaster at her side, and at least half a dozen knives on her at any time.

But Lux knew Glitter was also a big softie at heart. They'd roamed a long way together, and she had seen the way Glitter took care of her. She would never leave another 'joy in need stranded.

"Gonna try to rest before tonight?" Lux asked without opening her eyes when she heard Glitter walk in.

"It's my turn to keep watch."

"I'll split it with you," Lux offered. "Who knows how far we'll have to go."

"I'll wake you in the afternoon," Glitter offered.

"Deal," Lux muttered, even though she knew she wouldn't be asleep at any point that day.

The sun had been setting earlier as the end of the year neared, affording them an earlier start up the road. Lux secured her black, and gold leopard print bandana over her face and Glitter pulled up her silver glitter facemask as the duo set out from their shelter. Glitter was on alert to anyone coming up behind them, and Lux watched up ahead.

"Glitter, look," Lux called over her shoulder after what felt like many miles. "Is that the diner?"

"A diner?"

"No, the diner! The one we heard about that one time, remember? Let's go check it out," she replied, leading the way.

~

News doesn't travel fast in the Zones, especially when Dr. Death Defying's broadcasting equipment was damaged in a clap with the Dracs like it had been recently. But now word of the BLI lab that no one else had been able to infiltrate getting destroyed had reached the diner hideout of the infamous Fabulous Killjoys. Party Poison, his brother Kobra Kid, and friends Jet Star and Fun Ghoul were huddled around with the Youngbloods, discussing who could have been bold enough to attempt, and get away with, blowing up that lab.

"They had to be fast to get in and out without getting themselves blown up," Party theorized.

"Sounds like the bomb was way bigger than it needed to be," Ghoul commented. His expertise with bomb-making left him impressed by the details he had heard.

"But to get away like that, what was it? Destroya? A ghost?" Soul Punk asked, thoroughly confused by the whole thing.

"Someone looking for a Ghost?" Glitter asked with a smirk behind her mask.

The eight men all turned, caught completely off guard by the two women that had walked into their hideaway. They were also surprised to find that women were totally undeterred by the eight brightly colored blasters now aimed at their faces.

"Relax boys, we just wanna know what the dinner special is tonight," Lux said, tugging down her bandana with a cocky grin.

"Who the hell are you?" Ghoul snapped.

"The only two Killjoys that could do what you couldn't," Lux replied smugly.

"You took out the lab?" Sandman replied, sounding skeptical.

"What, like it's hard?"

"But who are you?" Ghoul asked again, more irritation in his voice.

"I'm Killer Lux."

"And I'm Glitter Ghost," Glitter said as she jumped up and sat on the counter, facing the gangs.

The other Killjoys looked amongst themselves, each searching the others' face for a look of recognition. Kobra lowered his weapon first. "Why are you here?"

"Our ride broke down the night we took out the lab, not sure if it's related, but I can't figure out what's wrong. We're looking for a safe haven until we can get back to running," Glitter replied, pulling down her mask.

Party followed his brother's lead, lowering his weapon as well. "Sure, but you tell us how you got in there. Every detail."

"You only think it was impossible to get in there because there's one thing you haven't tried yet," Glitter laughed.

"What's that?" Sandman asked her suspiciously, his eyes trailing up and down her slowly. 

"Being a poor, helpless girl in need of a big, brave corporation, obviously," Lux replied, rolling her eyes. She glanced over at Glitter with a smirk, only to find her entirely distracted by the other Killjoy's attention. She stifled a laugh and turned her attention back to the others.

"So, what, you flirted your way in?" Ghoul asked.

"Not exactly," Lux shrugged. "Glitter secured the perimeter, I had the bomb in my bag and went to the gate, sobbing my eyes out, begging to be let in. I had been kidnapped and dragged out into the desert against my will by some Killjoy scum. They let me in without checking me over because they're fucking mindless idiots, and I took the two guards out. I got inside, took out the Dracs as I encountered them, there weren't many there that late though. Got as far inside as I thought I could risk it and dropped the bomb. I did trip on my way out, and almost didn't clear out in time, but here I am."

"Damn," Kobra said, looking impressed, and Lux grinned at him. The others murmured their approval as well.

"She couldn't hear for a day," Glitter piped up suddenly with a giggle. "I thought she was dusted!"

"Glitter, come on," Lux replied through gritted teeth, annoyed that her moment of glory was slightly undermined.

"No, that's awesome. I'm Party Poison," he said, introducing himself. "We'll take any allies we can get against BLI."

"I gotta know more about that bomb," Ghoul said. 

Lux pointed at Glitter. "That's all her." Glitter gave Ghoul a little smirk and patted the top of the counter next to her, indicating that Ghoul could sit next to her; the rest of the Killjoys proceeded to introduce themselves to the newcomers.

Glitter and Ghoul discussed the bomb that she had built, but she could still feel eyes on her, and when she looked up, she noticed Sandman was watching her. She gave him a small smile and went back to talking to Ghoul. "And that's how I set up the bomb to not only explode but also shoot off the glitter. Everyone needs a little glitter in their life," she laughed.

Ghoul sat there in awe. "So, you basically glitter bomb people? That's amazing," Ghoul clapped his hands.

"Yeah," Glitter laughed. "It's pretty awesome to watch Dracs get a face full of glitter, then realize there's a timer under it, or hear a ticking noise. Depending on how I'm feeling, the glitter will either go off before or after the explosion. This time it was after."

After finishing her explanation, Glitter sighed and looked around. She wasn't really sure about much lately, but now sitting here in this dinner with other people fighting against BLI, she was sure of two things: the first being Sandman was adorable, and she very much enjoyed looking at him. The second was that she was almost positive that Lux had eyes for the one called Kobra Kid. Spending as much time as they had together, Glitter had a feeling she knew Lux better than Lux probably knew herself.

Glitter also couldn't help but notice the difference in aesthetics between the two gangs - The Killjoys were more flashy, like she was, however, the Youngbloods had more of a muted color scheme going on. Glitter noticed that Phoenix and Novocaine seem to stand out among the four of them. Phoenix due to the brightly colored tattoos that covered every inch of exposed skin from the neck down, and he didn't seem to like to wear a shirt, and Novocaine because he had a large mop of dark curly hair that seemed to have a mind of its own.

"So, I really hate to be that person, but Lux and I haven't eaten in, what? A day, day, and a half?" Glitter looked at Lux, who was sitting next to Kobra.

"Yeah, about a day and a half," Lux answered.

"We don't want to put anyone out, but if we could eat that would be amazing." 

"I suppose we could spare a couple cans of Power Pup for the heroes of the day," Jet announced before going back into the kitchen and returning with two cans, a spoon in each and they started to dig in.

"Why haven't we seen you two around before?" Phoenix asked.

Glitter shrugged "We've always tried to keep a low profile and avoid BLI and their associates as much as possible."

"A low profile? Looking like that, you are literally wearing a crown made of flowers?" Novocaine scoffed.

"You wanna fight? Because I will drop you right now" Glitter jumped off the counter and was caught by Ghoul and Sandman as she tried to lunge at Novocaine.

"Whoa, whoa, there will be no fighting each other," Party stepped in between Glitter and Novocaine.

Glitter threw up her hands "Fine, whatever" she sat on one of the stools in front of the counter.

"We've always tried to stay on the edges and away from others, until now," Lux stated. "That lab we blew up? We discovered it by accident one day, and we knew we had to do something about it."

Glitter sighed, "The things that they were doing had to be stopped. It was horrible."

A deafening silence fell over everyone.

Glitter shook her head, "But it's done. That lab....is destroyed. Time to move on and think of other, less depressing, things." Glitter grabbed her can of Power Pup and started eating. "So now that we've introduced ourselves, explained how we blew up the lab, and got to know each other a bit," Glitter shot Lux a look, "would you guys be ok with us crashing here for the night?"

Lux looked around the room, batting her eyelashes at the men and pouting slightly, hoping to guilt them into letting them stay, much the same way she got into the BLI lab.

"As long as you don't start any fights, your welcome here as long as you need to be," Party replied.

[thatsabae]

Payback - Jungkook | Chapter 10

genre: romance/comedy/friends-to-lovers

summary: “Revenge is sweet”, that’s what they say, and your plan is to find out if that statement is true. After finding out about your boyfriend’s infidelity, you seek after his lover’s boyfriend, cause mama always told you that sweets are better when shared. But first, you need to convince him to join you.

prologue | chapter 1 | chapter 2 | chapter 3 | chapter 4 | chapter 5 | chapter 6 | chapter 7 | chapter 8 | chapter 9 | chapter 10 | chapter 11 | final

Y/N: That sounds great! [sent: 11:24 p.m. / read: -]

 You knew exactly what you had to do: call Jordan and split. Simple like that. 

Sadly, knowing the steps you should take didn’t make it any way easier. But you shouldn’t be this coward, he was your boyfriend! After a whole day delaying this task, after dinner you finally gathered enough courage to give Jordan a call and ask to meet him. 

Your plan was meeting him after work and be as quick as you could, but when he offered to give you a ride to work instead, you ended up agreeing. That would be quicker than waiting the whole day and having to get back home in his car, right? 

When his car stoped in front of your house, you were finishing your cup of milk, trying to feel calm, but that wasn’t working. 

“Is that Jordan?” Your mom questioned, looking through the window. “Tell him to come here and have breakfast with us”. 

“Ugh. It’s better not.” From the weird look your mom gave you, you know that answer wasn’t enough. “I can’t be late today, mom”. 

You left your unfinished cup at the table and left before she could say anything else. You didn’t want to explain everything before the right time for your parents, or they could try to change your mind, or even make you talk to him angrier and that was not what you wanted. You decided that the best would be go there calm and not blame him for everything that went wrong in your relationship. 

After all, you spent a lot of time with him, you didn’t want to have only bad memories associated with him. Jordan was an important part of your life, he helped construct who you were now. He made you happy before, it didn’t matter if the end wasn’t pretty like in movies or books. 

“Hey. I came yesterday, but you weren’t here. It’s like you’ve been avoiding me.” He joked, the moment you entered his car. 

You sighed. You knew you were a coward, no need to lie to yourself. Your plan included small talk until you were almost near your work place and then, only then, drop the bomb. 

“I was busy”. 

“They kept you at work until that late?” Jordan seemed curious, and trying to make everything look normal. He seem to expect this would help everything to be back on track.

“No. I was out, having dinner with a friend”. 

He stayed quiet for a moment, but you saw the way his grip on the steering wheel got tighter. 

“Is that the same friend from the party?” 

“Jordan.” You whispered. There’s no easier way to do it, right? “I didn’t call you to talk about Jungkook. We need to talk about us”. 

“Jungkook.” He repeated his name, and gave you a quick glance before focusing on the street. “Before we talk about our relationship, I need to know something. That day at the restaurant, was when you first met him?” 

If you wanted to do it right, you shouldn’t lie. That would mean you’re doing the same he did.

“No. I did knew him. Jordan, can we please focus here?” 

You were almost reaching your work place. Thank God. You needed to do it before getting there, you didn’t have courage to just say and leave. He was a cheater, yes, but at least he needed to know your explanation, your motives. 

When he stood silent, you took that as a sign to say what you needed. 

“I don’t think we can stay like that. Our relationship is not working anymore”. 

“What?” 

“You understood what I said.” You softened your voice. “Let’s break up”. 

He kept staring you, even when the signal opened and others cars started honking at him. 

“Why?” He started driving again. 

“Why not? Jordan, look at us. You don’t make me happy and I clearly don’t make you”. 

“What do you mean?” He killed the car in front of your workplace. “You do make me very happy”. 

“Oh please. I can understand you lying to me, but not to yourself. I know about Calli.” You move your hand, telling him to keep quiet. “Don’t worry, I’m fine about it now. It pained me like hell, but it’s okay now. I forgive you. I  just don’t see a future for us, we don’t have a future. Goodbye, Jordan”. 

You left his car and hopefully his life. It went better than what you expected. Things would be better now. They had to. 

Y/N: What if we go out today instead of just Saturday? [sent: 10:13 a.m. / read: 10:32 a.m.]

Jungkook: Lunch? [received: 10:33 a.m.]

Y/N: No, after work. Is that okay for you? [sent: 10:41 a.m. / read: 10:42 a.m.]

Jungkook: Sure thing. [received: 10:43 a.m.] 

When you enter Jungkook’s car, you’re not sure how to greet him. Should you give him a peck or just say hi and smile? Thankfully he seemed to be having the same doubt as you, giving you his shy smile. You decide to not overthink and kiss his him anyway. Why worry now? You went too far. 

“Wow. If you keep doing this, I’ll come to pick you up everyday”. 

“You don’t need to do that just to earn a greeting kiss”. 

“I don’t, but you can’t kiss me through text messages, right?”

You smile at him and watch the street as he starts driving. With the window down, you let the breeze in your face, messing up your hair but also giving you hope. Hope to start over, hope to be and feel happy again. 

“Did I ever say how cool is your apartment?” 

Jungkook was in the kitchen, grabbing soda, but you could hear his soft laugh echoing. It made you feel like laughing too. This feeling was so good, making someone happy just with your presence. It’s been a long time since you felt like that. 

“You don’t recall you saying it, but thanks. I tried my best to achieve this refinement”. 

You both laughed while he served you a glass, and watched as you were appreciating each sketch, drawing, and even his scrawls. He was very talented. 

“All of these were covers?” 

“No. Most of them were just what they look like: scrawls. Things I do when I get bored.” Jungkook moved closer to you and pointed at one paper in special. “That one is the first book cover I’ve helped doing. The author had no idea of what he wanted, so I sketched that. He liked”. 

You had no idea which book that could be, but it seemed to be an adventure one. There were two kids in its cover and lot’s of objects you couldn’t recognise at first, probably part of the book. 

“Do you have this book here?” 

He picked a book from the top of his shelf. “The adventures of kids from third street”. 

“Oh, it’s a little bit different”. 

“Yeah. That was just a sketch based on the manuscript, then we called a real artist to make it”.

“Is that why you’re looking for a photographer? To take your covers from the paper?” 

“That too. It’s just… A professional’s vision is way different than ours. He knows angles and stuff like that. Our interest is to him even help us bring the idea to the paper, you know?” 

You hummed a yes, moving your interest to his pile of CDs. Most of them, you didn’t recognise, so you just picked one without worrying and asked him to play it. 

“Do you know them?” 

“I don’t think so. Why?” 

He choose one specific music from the CD and put it very low. It was probably a sad song. “I’m not alright but I’ll pretend”. 

“All their songs are about relationships?” 

“No. Listen this.” He switched songs. “I like their songs”. 

“What? This is also about relationships”. 

You listened to it. “I know, you know, I’ll never get over you”. 

“But my favourite is this one.” He switched songs again, and you’re confused now. Was that still the same album? 

“Oh, I’ve heard this one before. Playing on the radio”. 

The lyrics were forming in your mind. It was a romantic song. Not sad like the others, more like the beginning of a love. “Got nothing but love for you”. You sang along, mentally. “Fall more in love every day”. 

Was this what was happening between you two? Was it love? You both found love after disastrous relationships? 

Yeah. 

It could be it. 

You would like it to be.

You were still young, but found love once. And waiting and treasuring it only gave you pain and left you heartbroken. And that lead you to Jungkook. Lead you to be here, at his living room and listening to romantic songs. Single and young. 

Single and falling in love. Hard. 

“I broke up with Jordan this morning. Officially”. 

“I’m glad you’re free from that guy, finally.”

Yes, you loved Jordan. But this was different. He gave you this feeling before, but you didn’t have the same experience. No one broke your heart before Jordan. With this new knowledge, there’s nothing really holding you back. 

That’s why the next words you said that night were: 

“Do you mind if I call my parents and tell them that I won’t come back this night?” 

You saw that Jungkook needed a few moments to understand what you meant. He took another sip from his soda and smiled at you. 

“Better not make them worry”.

And just like the next song said, you were hoping the walls would keep the secrets that happened that night, glad they couldn’t talk. 

“Do you want to have lunch with me today?” Jungkook asked you, when he parked in front of your house. 

“That sounds nice”. 

Butterflies were on your stomach, making your anxious from being so close to him. Each moment you passed with him, made you fall harder and harder, but you didn’t care. It was a good feeling. 

“I’ll go change, and be right back”. 

You entered your house silently, hoping your parents wouldn’t notice you sneaking in. You had time to change for work, but knowing that Jungkook was waiting for you created a not in your stomach. Your life changed so much in the last month that you were almost a little dizzy. And you from twenty-four hours before was so different, too. You liked this feeling. You felt like your age. 

You didn’t regret what you’ve done. Maybe that was it. You may have been dreaming with marrying Jordan for months, but he was not the right guy. And then came Jungkook. You’ve known him less than a month, but… 

“Were you really with Kimberly yesterday?” Taehyung asked you, the moment you crossed the kitchen to leave the house again. 

“What? Why?” You knew he caught you lying. “Mom and dad are suspicious?” 

“No, but one day they will start to notice this car that is always parked in front of our house, you know”. 

“We’re taking things slowly”. 

“You slept at his house” Taehyung whispered, trying to not catch the attention of your parents. “Can you be quicker than it?” 

You giggle at him, like a teenager. 

“Oh my God.” Your brother seemed surprised. “You really fell for him, right?” 

You shrug. “I think I did. But I can’t help it”. 

“At least, you ended things with Jordan first, right?” Taehyung asked you, looking at the window again, with a serious tone.

“Yesterday. Why?”

You looked the same direction Taehyung was looking at. You could see two figures standing next to each other. Jungkook and Jordan. Your brother followed you outside, and you only realize that when he gets in front of you to face the pair. 

“What is this guy doing here, Y/N?” 

“The real question is what are you doing here, Jordan!” You shout at him, trying to pass Taehyung, but he holds firmly your arm. “I thought I was clear yesterday”. 

“Is that why you didn’t even want to talk about us?” He pointed his finger at Jungkook. “Not giving me a chance to explain?

Each second that passed, you could see how Jungkook’s patience was decreasing, and it was dangerous. He seemed to be a calm guy, but you didn’t really know him yet, but you knew Jordan and how he acted when angry.

“Tae, please, take Jungkook inside, I need to talk to Jordan”. 

“What? I’m not leaving.” He laughed, without humor. “Actually, I should be the one screaming at him, not the opposite. Gosh. You should be ashamed of talking to me like that. If I were you, I wouldn’t even look into my eyes”. 

He pushed the hair out of his angry face, and the way he was staring Jordan, made you almost groan. Jungkook never seemed so sexy. 

“Actually, I think we switched, right? So I don’t get what you’re doing here.” He started provoking. When Jungkook took a step closer to Jordan, Taehyung was quick to put a hand on his chest, trying to tell him to stop, but that didn’t seem to affect the other boys. “You have no use here”.

“Let’s talk alone, Y/N”. 

“Oh, but I don’t mind you talking right here.” Jungkook teased him again and moving to your side. “But, if we lose more time, you’re probably gonna be late for work, Y/N. Let’s go?” Saying it, he moved one of his hands to your hip and hanging it there, teasing Jordan even more. 

You couldn’t say you didn’t like all this teasing. It was your goal from the beginning. Tease and hurt Jordan. But in front of your brother, you were getting slightly embarrassed. 

“Don’t touch her!” Jordan moved closer to you, only making Jungkook’s smile grow. 

“You better go.” Taehyung tried to stop Jordan. 

“I understood what you said yesterday, Y/N. You said we don’t have a future, but I know you meant different. I know what you meant.” You began to walk with Jungkook, leaving Jordan talking, holden back by Taehyung. You were not interested in what he had to say, way too many time already lost with him. But then he said those words. 

Those wicked words. 

“I came to ask you to marry me”. 

[somethingjustsouthofbrilliance]

I Got You (Tony/Rhodey secret service AU)(chapter 6)

Some of you asked if there will be a chapter from Tony’s POV.  Well, here it is.  It’s longer than my previous ones, but there was a lot to pack into it. Hope you, guys, don’t mind. Got a few more Easter eggs in this chapter also - see if you can pick those out ;-)

Links to chapter 1, chapter 5

Tagging @jamesrhodey  @supernaturalyloki @chanderefk @aimeeroot21 @markedplaces @mostly-marvel-stuffs @matre-dee @le-ephemere @lo-anlurui @savedbyholmes @kimmycup @typicalcampbell @natty-ts70 @damnhiatus @pubzie @giulisetta @starkravinghazelnuts

Chapter 6

 The group at the nearby table abandon their pretense of looking through the menus the moment Rhodes walks away, and Tony has been waiting for it, waiting for them to make a move, and the moment they do, the moment the first of them rises from the table, so does he.

 He slams his elbow hard into the nose of the closest goon, causing the man to stumble backwards, eyes watering and hands clamping over the now bloodied face.  Delivers a vicious follow-up blow to the man’s temple, dropping him to the floor like a sack of potatoes.  

 One, he thinks grimly and twists around to drive the heel of his boot into the side of another’s knee.  

 Two, he adds, allowing himself the tiniest of smirks at the dull sound of bone breaking even as the second assailant hollers and drops, clutching the knee in obvious pain.  

 He puts the guy out of his misery with a well-aimed kick to the head and turns just in time to duck out of the way of a chair swinging toward him.  He intercepts the object by its legs, twists it sharply to the side, forcing the other guy to let go.  Then lunges forward, smashing the back of the chair into the guy’s neck with everything he’s got.

 Three.

 He sees movement out of the corner of his eye and he spins around just in time to see one of the group slink away in the direction that Rhodes had disappeared to.  

 Shit.

 He doesn’t bother with the mental tally anymore.  He needs to finish this as quickly as possible. Goon number four reaches behind his coat for the gun tucked into his waistband, having apparently reached a similar conclusion.  And Tony doesn’t have time for this – not in a crowded restaurant, not when the fifth man is probably already gunning for Rhodes.  

 He’s still holding the chair, so he swings it at the guy’s head hard enough to crack and splinter the wood. The man slumps wordlessly, an awkward heap at Tony’s feet, and Tony waits half a heartbeat to make sure the guy doesn’t so much as twitch before running full-speed after number five.

 He bursts into the kitchen, nearly knocking over one of the workers.  A cursory glance at the man’s terror-wide eyes that keep darting toward the back of the room tells him he was right not to bother checking the restroom first – he’s on the right track.  

 He pulls out his gun, hurries through the busy crammed space, nearly slipping on a spilled mess of pasta and broken glass left in the middle of the tiled floor.  

 Yes, definitely on the right track.

 There’s a shout up ahead, a harsh demanding tone, and he rushes toward it, worried that he is already too late when his ears pick up a dull twang of a blow followed by the thud of a body hitting the ground.  And skids to a stunned halt at the sight of the fifth goon sprawled in an awkward senseless heap by the back door and Rhodes standing over him with a cast iron skillet in his hand.  

 He blinks, shakes his head in amusement.  “A skillet tenderized goon chop,” he remarks approvingly, squatting down next to the likely comatose would-be assassin to retrieve the man’s fallen weapon.   “Nicely done, Chef Rhodey.”

 “I’ve done ten years in the military,” comes a slightly clipped, slightly breathless response. “I’m not entirely helpless.  And the name’s Rhodes.”

 Tony dutifully ignores the correction.  “Former military, huh,” he squints assessingly up at his charge. “Marines?”

 Rhodes tosses the skillet, raises his hand to fix the glasses that got tilted a bit during his altercation.  “Air Force,” he corrects, “fighter pilot.”

 “A flyboy,” Tony hums, straightening back out, the assailant’s weapon held loosely in his hand. Dismisses with a casual shrug, “Impressive, but not a particularly useful skill in our current situation. You know how to shoot?”  

 “Yeah, I know how to shoot.” Rhodes sounds almost offended now, and Tony grins appreciatively.

 “Here you go then, Platypus,” he holds the extra weapon out to him by the barrel, his grin growing wider when Rhodes takes it without hesitation, the weapon fitting into his hand with expert ease.  He steps to the door, opens it the tiniest of cracks.  “Stay close,” he says, making sure to catch the other man’s eyes. “Keep low. Cover fire only – don’t poke your head up for any reason.  Understood?”

 Rhodes looks like he wants to argue, brows knitted into a stubborn frown, and Tony can’t have that – can’t afford to have a goddamn politician (even one who may have seen combat) going all Dirty Harry on him.  He grips the man’s shoulder, squeezes hard.  “Look,” he says, drawing on what little patience he has and trying for placating, “your military training aside, you are an extremely high value target, and those guys out there – their goal is to take you out.  My job is to keep you alive. Let me do it.  Please.”  

 Rhodes regards him silently for a moment, then nods. “Okay.”

 “Okay.”

 And they’re off.

 ***

 Just as he had predicted, there are more goons waiting outside.  The good news is there are only four of them, milling about next to two black vans with tinted windows.  The bad news – they spot them all too soon for Tony’s liking – about halfway to the relative safety of the car, and these guys, being outside, are not shy about using their weapons.

 He throws out his hand behind him, blindly grabs a fistful of the pale blue fabric and yanks down, forcing Rhodes to duck behind the closest vehicle.  He follows suit, wincing in mute apology to the car’s hapless owner, whoever they may be, as bullets pepper its other side.  A momentary lull in gunfire has him up on his feet again, firing over the hood of the car and hissing at Rhodes to move while their assailants in turn duck behind one of the vans for cover.  Rhodes obeys without hesitation this time, taking off at a low crouch, and Tony fires off a couple more shots, blowing out the vans’ tires, and runs off after him, making sure to keep himself between Rhodes and the shooters.

 He unlocks the car on the run, yells at Rhodes to “Get in and get down”.  Gets in himself, flinching as the driver’s side window shatters from the impact of a bullet, showering him with glass.   He doesn’t wait for them to get in another shot.  Slams the key into ignition, floors the pedal and peels out of the parking lot like a bat out of hell.

 ***

 “How did they manage to track us down?” Rhodes straightens out slowly in the passenger seat, looks back over his shoulder at the restaurant parking lot they had long since left behind.

 Tony shrugs, wincing as the movement pulls unpleasantly at his left shoulder.  Spares Rhodes a sideways glance.  “I’ve been trying to figure that out myself,” he admits, barely able to hide his frustration.  Because he missed something, he knows he did.  He got rid of their phones, they’ve got a brand new credit card, a new car, made sure their movements couldn’t be traced.  Hell, he even got Rhodes to get rid of his old clothes, so he would–

 Shit.

 He glances Rhodes’ way again, eyes narrowed in thought.  “You wouldn’t happen to have something on your person that was a gift, would ya? Fairly recent?  This year sometime?”

 Rhodes frowns at the question, seemingly confused as to its relevance, but he obliges nevertheless, lifts up his left hand to show off an exquisite-looking Bulgari encircling his wrist. “Got this little beast about two months ago,” he says, and his eyes widen in sudden horrified realization as he stumbles breathlessly over the name of the giver, “from Obie…”

 Shit, shit, shit

 “Take it off,” Tony commands, squeezing the steering wheel harder as he berates himself for being stupid, stupid, stupid not to have thought of this sooner.  

A sudden wave of sharp, stabbing pain that tears through his shoulder at the angry motion nearly makes him gasp out loud.  He grits his teeth, loosens his grip on the steering wheel a bit, taking a couple of long steadying breaths through the nose.  Spares a quick glance at the front of his shirt, unsurprised to see a steadily growing patch of wetness that spreads out from a small hole just below his collarbone.  Of-fucking-course.

 “Smash it,” he forces out hoarsely, because they need to take care of this first, this is important, his goddamn shoulder can wait.  “On the dash… use your gun.”  

 Rhodes does as he’s told, drives the butt of the gun into the delicate clockwork until the beautiful timepiece is nothing but a mess of twisted metal and broken glass.

 “Toss it,” Tony instructs, and what’s left of the watch is sent flying out the open window.  

 It’s not ideal. Stane or whoever else that’s pulling the strings already has part of their itinerary, they can figure out the rest soon enough even without the tracker.  But it should at least buy them some time. Which, judging by the way his shoulder is now a constant painful throb in odd concert with the beat of his heart, they desperately, desperately need.  

 He thinks back to his original plan.  His old house in Malibu.  Another 20+ hours away.  There’s no way he can get them there now.  Not in this shape.  They need a stopover, a safe place to rest and get patched up before he gets them back on their way.  Luckily for them, they are about an hour away from one – a small safety harbor he himself helped create many years ago for those he swore he would give his life to protect.  And he hates the idea of being the one to now bring danger to their doorstep.  Would never even think about doing so if he were on his own.  But he’s got Rhodes to think about – the man who is now also his to protect.  He cannot, will not fail him now.  

 He flicks another troubled gaze at his bloodied shirt, looks up at the road sign for the rapidly approaching junction with US-54 and turns the car toward the exit ramp, sending a quick mental apology to those, whose lives he’s about to make a whole lot more complicated.

 ***

 “I knew Stane as a kid. Did he ever tell you?” He doesn’t know why he’s volunteering this information now. Blames it on the blood loss. On the fact that the road flickers in and out of focus for him with ever-increasing frequency and they still have about 10 minutes left to go and he desperately, desperately needs to find a way to stay alert.  Talking helps.  Talking about anything really.  He’s just not so sure that starting a conversation about his messed-up childhood with a guy he met only a couple weeks ago, a guy who probably only tolerates his presence out of necessity, is a good way to go.  But his mouth no longer seems to listen to his brain’s admonitions, and he doesn’t think he has the wherewithal to fight that particular battle now.

 “I… no…” Rhodes sounds equal parts confused and surprised.  “I didn’t.”

 “Used to come see my… Howard about his projects.”

 A wave of dizziness assaults him out of nowhere and he grips the wheel harder to stay in his lane. The wound in his shoulder echoes dutifully, the surge of pain momentarily whitening out the road before him. But it helps, jolts him into greater awareness, buys him a few minutes more.  Hopefully enough to reach the house.   He blinks rapidly to clear his vision, his chest heaving with breaths that seem too shallow, too inadequate somehow.

 “I used to … like it when he came.  …Kept Howard’s attention away,” he admits, the words pouring out of him like liquor out of a bottle.  And, god, he needs a drink – he would kill for one just about now.  Drinking helps.  Howard taught him that.  He didn’t want to learn.  He was too young, he thinks.  But Howard said he needed to, so he obeyed.  He wanted to be good, wanted his father to like him… or at least… at least not hit him so much.  He left him alone when Obie was there, so that was nice… that was nice.

 “Wh…what?”

 He clamps his mouth shut at his passenger’s appalled gasp, flicks a pathetically hopeful glance to the side, wincing at the expression of stunned horror on the other man’s face.  Shit. He didn’t mean to say any of that out loud, he really didn’t.  Damn this blood loss.

 “Stark, I–”

 “S’fine,” he interrupts, turning his attention back to the road, hunching in on himself under the watchful, concerned stare he can feel burning a hole in the side of his face.  “Whiskey under the bridge.”  A hysterical giggle bubbles forth, and, boy, is he not helping himself here.  He doesn’t even dare look Rhodes’ way anymore.  Can’t bear the judgment, the pity he knows he’s gonna see in the man’s eyes.

 The road winks out for a moment.  Comes back veiled in a rapidly thickening gray haze.  His left arm slips off the wheel, hanging a dead weight at his side.  The fingers of his right one are growing colder by the minute and he can barely feel the leather in their white-knuckled grip.  His time has run out.

 “See that driveway up ahead?” He nods toward a simple gravel road framed by trees and thick overgrowth on both sides.  “There’s a house… at the end of it.  Friend of mine… Pep…Pepper.”  He’s slurring, he can feel it, his tongue growing too heavy in his mouth. But he still needs to, he needs to…

 “Stark?”

 He can hear the worry in Rhodes’ voice, can feel the man’s hand gripping his shoulder – a strong solid anchor in an ocean of cold and darkness that’s slowly pulling him under.  It’s nice that anchor, but it won’t be enough to keep him from floating away.

 “Take the… take the wheel,” he manages on a soft, breezy exhale, as darkness rises higher to engulf him completely.

 Rhodes’ anxious call of his name is the last thing he hears.