#formal apology to everyone who read it I’m finally realizing what I did

[hardlypartying]

why am i in my feels over bad habit rn 😭

[hacked-by-jake]

⚠️BASED ON EPISODE 10 || Contains spoiler⚠️

A Ray Of Hope

Summary: Three days after the rescue of Hannah, there is a knock on the door of MC, and somehow she has already expected the visit, but the wounds are still fresh. But she has Jake to help her.

-> Pairing: Jake x Fem!MC // feat. two FBI Agents ->Genre: Angst/Fluff/ some Spice -> Words: 6.2k oops -> Warning: Well, at the end a little spice, which is interrupted. (I don’t know if you’ll hate me xD) // Cursing // some explicit language // It is based on episode 10 and covers the topics that happened there a bit. // And it’s cheesy, really -> A/n: Yes, hello. Well, I don’t know, I don’t even know how I got to 6 thousand words. The reading again and again was absolutely exhausting please apologized mistakes etc. And on top of that, English is not my native language, you know that stuff, I’m tired and I don’t remember what I wanted to say here. So have fun and hope you like the shit.💜💚

When the door was finally opened after waiting for minutes, all the color disappeared from the hacker’s face.

Shocked, he stared at the young woman in front of him, looking at her almost dead eyes. For a tiny moment, shock could be clearly seen on her face, but this changed as quickly as it had come.

Instead, she let her gaze glide over his handcuffed hands without emotion. Down the metal chain that led to the appropriate ankle cuffs that prevented him from running away.

Then she let her gaze slip behind the young hacker who was accompanied by two not hard to recognize FBI agents.

When she seemed to realize that he was being arrested, a gruesome laugh escaped her before she opened the door completely and then just disappeared back into her apartment. "It was clear that it could still get worse." she muttered with difficulty.

"Excuse me? Miss MC? May we come in?" one of the two agents called after her and his voice was clearly filled with slight skepticism.

"No, I always leave the door open so that the next murderer can just run into my house," her voice dripped with irony. And even if the hacker was clearly concerned about her condition, a small grin now scurried over his lips.

On the silent drive here, he had let any option, a reaction from her, go through his head, and exactly this reaction had been at the top of his list of possibilities.

"Move," the second agent directed the young hacker and shoved him in the back.

Jake rolled his eyes annoyed, but didn’t waste time entering the apartment of the woman he fell in love with.

With, for his taste, far too little distance followed the two FBI men and one of them closed the door when all three stood directly in the living room of MC.

She sat on a dark leather sofa in a sea of crumpled tissues. She sat cross-legged, her back against the back of the couch. Her back posture was straight, almost uncomfortably formal and tense, and her posture was somewhat reminiscent of his own.

Her chin was slightly stretched into the air, and she seemed a little superior to the men, her posture pointing to discipline. Maybe she even looked a little arrogant sitting there. But Jake immediately recognized the facade she used to make it look like she was not completely devastated.

The problem was, of course, that he could imagine why, but he didn’t have exact information.

Without paying a glance, the young woman asked the three men to sit down, which was immediately accepted by everyone. After all, this visit was none among friends.

Jake, of course, did not hesitate to sit down next to her immediately, he carefully settled down just a few inches away from her. His body was turned in her direction and he looked at her anxiously.

If his hands were not tied up, he would have taken her in his arms immediately, but unfortunately this opportunity was taken from him and he knew that the agents would not make an exception if he asked them.

But to his happiness, to his delight, the young woman immediately let herself fall against his body when she had the chance.

"Hey! Don’t tou-" one of the agents wanted to say immediately, but the other stopped him with a hand movement.

They exchanged a glance with each other, with which the second told him to allow it.

The young woman leaned her head against the hacker’s left chest and listened for a few seconds to his fast heartbeat.

The only thing Jake could do was to lower his head and put his chin on her hairline to return at least one less of her gesture. Also to his luck, found her hand his and automatically crossed their fingers together.

"Hello" she whispered in a hoarse voice.

"Hello, MC" he answered just as quietly.

"You got arrested?" she asked the obvious.

He nodded in response: "The fire that broke out in the mine doomed my plan to failure."

"Has anyone told you what happened?"

The two young lovers seemed to have completely forgotten after the first seconds that there were still two FBI agents among them, but the latter behaved calmly.

They knew that if they wanted MC’s help, they would have to accept some things.

"No, no one," he answered, and a little afraid that something might have happened to Hannah, made his chest tighten a little.

"Richy set the fire." she began: "Don’t worry, Hannah is safe, she’s fine, she’s back home." she explained and had probably noticed that he was a little tense.

"Why did Richy set the fire? All the evidence was there." his voice was quiet, but stunned.

Again she laughed and sounded so filled with deep pain: "Richy is-" her voice broke off. A violent tremor broke over her body and Jake’s heart contracted painfully.

Of course, he could already imagine what MC wanted to say and wanted to spare her from having to say it: "I’m so sorry MC" he whispered.

"He - he killed himself, killed himself and burned everything that would have proven his guilt!" she croaked and immediately began to cry bitterly.

"Shit MC," he gasped shocked and immediately wanted to put his arms around her, but the rattling of the chains reminded him that this was not possible.

He gave an aggressive look at the two agents, who were just sitting quietly, until the second sighed and pulled the key out of his jacket.

Jake didn’t care that they were the ones who put him in this situation at all, so he gave the Agent a grateful look as he leaned over the table to open the handcuffs.

MC had already parted ways with Jake and turned the other way to prevent them from seeing her face distorted by mental pain.

As soon as Jake’s left hand was free, he reached for the young woman’s shoulder.

When his right hand again had all freedom of movement as well, he automatically slid over to her, slapped his arms around her and gently pulled her back against his body.

To his astonishment and at the same time slight joy, the agent did not sit down again but stopped, followed by the second, and indeed the two left their place to disappear into the room to the left of the living room, which seemed to be the kitchen. However, not without first using the front door key of MC to lock the apartment door and take the keys with them. And a last warning look to the hacker.

If MC hadn’t been much more important, he would probably have go on them if they really thought he was leaving MC in this condition. And even the still existing ankle cuffs would make it impossible to escape, if he wanted to.

But there was no time for that. He had to concentrate on MC, who fortunately turned back to him, and had her arms tightly wrapped around him.

The young woman had her face buried in his neck and Jake could feel her hot tears running down his skin and then disappear into the fabric of his black hoodie.

Jake didn’t really think when he grabbed her thighs to pull her astride on his lap.

But she didn’t seem to mind. On the contrary, she helped him immediately and then pressed herself so hard against him that he briefly felt that she was squeezing the air out of his lungs. But damn it, it didn’t matter.

He stroked his hand up and down her back while she sobbed deeply and cried bitterly. Her voice was so dripping with agony, and the young hacker hated himself for not being able to take this pain away from her. That he had no way to make her feel better, that he couldn’t protect her from the pain that poisoned her soul. He had sworn to protect her always and from everything. But he couldn’t protect her from the pain right now.

Then there was the problem that he didn’t really know what had happened. Because even if he had asked again and again in the last three days, no one wanted to tell him anything. But the black-haired man had the deep suspicion that Richy’s death was not the only thing that had to do with the mechanic.

Jake wondered if he should address his conjecture cautiously as he kept trying to somehow improve the situation with reassuring words like "I’m here, MC" or "I’m taking care of you".

For minutes they both just sat there while she cried in his hoodie without a break. Until she finally got what he had feared out of herself, interrupted by several sobs.

"Richy - Jake, it was Richy, all the while it was Richy," she squeezed out and started crying even more terribly than before.

And hell, it broke his heart into millions of pieces to see her suffer like that. It hurt him so much that even he felt he wanted to cry, but he held back his rising tears. He had to stay strong for both of them. If he started crying now, it would probably only make her sadder if it was possible at all.

"Oh MC," he breathed and swallowed once firmly: "I am- I know that these words do not help, make nothing better, but I am infinitely sorry that it has ended this way."

To be honest, he wasn’t even surprised by this fact, and he was sure it wasn’t a new thought for MC. Secretly, both had probably always suspected that the man without a face was Richy. They were just too good as a team, their thoughts too equal and Richy too suspicious.

Even though they had never talked about it, both had known it all along.

Which was probably also the reason why MC denied when he asked her if she believed that their culprit was really Michael Hanson.

And also, why she didn’t tell Jessy at the time, or rather the whole group, that the man with no face had told her that he had killed Richy.

Because Richy himself was the Man Without a Face all the time.

Jake had a hard time imagining what it had to feel like for her when she finally found out the truth. The betrayal she had to feel must have been terrible, so terrible that there were no words to describe how she felt about it.

He could feel her hands clawing into his sweater, as if she were afraid she might fall if she didn’t hold on. She was looking for support, for emotional support, and he wanted to be the person who gave her what she needed, wrapping his arms even tighter around her. He pressed her against himself and kept whispering in her ear that he wouldn’t let her go. That he was there for her and that he understood how she must feel. At least he could imagine it.

She moved even closer to him, even if that was almost impossible. Even her legs, which were to the left and right of his thighs, were pressed tightly together, squeezing him completely.

But it didn't bothered him. On the contrary, he saw, if he was lucky, the chance to elicit a little laugh from her, if she was not too broken.

"The agents don’t need to worry about me escaping, your clasping is stronger than any handcuffs in the world. I would never be able to leave if you continued to." he whispered into her ear.

And indeed, she went through another deep sob that paired with a little bit of amusement.

But she also loosened her grip a little, and muttered an "I'm sorry" as she tried to slip a little away from him.

But that was not what he wanted to achieve, so he immediately pulled her as close as she was.

"Not -" he said: "Please, I don’t want you to stop." His voice sounded more pleading than he had expected, and MC seemed glad he thought so.

Even though she strengthened her grip, she raised her head to look at him. But when he saw her, when he saw the pain in her eyes. When he saw and heard the desperate laughter that broke out of her as his eyes widened from her reddened and swollen eyes. When he saw her slightly bleeding lip, on which he could even see her tooth prints, it hit him.

In milliseconds his eyes filled with the already back-holded tears and already the first rolled out of his eye.

He quickly tried to regain his composure, blinked and didn’t want to let her see that he was sad too. But instead of getting better, it got worse and worse.

The second and third tears ran down his face and immediately MC sobbed again and her own crying worsened.

"I’m sorry to make you sad," she cried and hung her head.

The hacker took his arms off her back and put both hands on her cheeks to raise her head to make her look at him again.

"Don’t do this, don’t apologize, in no case." Even though he now sounded tormented himself, his voice still sounded firm and convinced. "You don’t have to apologize, MC, never for nothing, my heart breaks to see you like that, it’s true, but it’s not your fault. Not in the least."

"But -" she wanted to disagree, but he stopped her: "No, no 'but', none, it’s not your fault, it’s just, I can’t help you. I can’t do anything to make you feel better, and it makes me sad, I don’t want you to be sad, I want to see you happy. But right now, there’s nothing I can do to make it happen. My hands are just free, and yet they are tied to me in relation to your feelings."

MC sobbed deeply before she said: "Has anyone ever told you how beautiful your voice is, and how sweet your way of talking?" Despite the tears, she smiled at him, she even looked a little less sad for a short while, but unfortunately only for a few seconds.

The young hacker had definitely not expected this answer from her, which is why he did not think of anything that he could return.

But even if he had thought of something, these words would probably have stuck in his throat either way.

Without warning, MC had leaned forward, her arms wrapped around his neck, and her lips pressed against his cheek to catch the tear that had just rolled hot over his skin.

His heart stopped for a few seconds. He widened his eyes in shock and his body tensed by itself, which led to the young woman immediately withdrawing.

"Oh God, I’m so sorry" she gasped and looked as shocked as he did. "I’m- Gosh, I’m sorry. I should have asked - I should have asked before - I - shit" she stuttered and her cheeks turned bright red while her eyes scanned his face to see possible signs of anger or the like.

But there was nothing like that, he stared deep into her eyes, still shocked. She had held her hand in front of her mouth, another expression for how uncomfortable she was and how surprised she was about her own action, over which she had no control.

When she still did not get a reaction from him, she wanted to continue talking, apologize again and even get off his lap. But that seemed to finally release the hacker from his freezing, and with the hands still clutching her face, he pulled her so fast to himself that their lips almost painfully collided. But both simply ignored it.

The kiss, which consisted only of pressing their lips on each other, had been so unplanned that both did not even had the time to close their eyes.

And a few seconds later it was already over again and they leaned away from each other. Jake’s hands remained in the same place, and the young woman slipped hers over his neck, his shoulders, up to his cheeks, where she cupped his face as much as he did hers.

Tears still flowed from the eyes of the two while they almost seemed to stare into the other’s soul.

Both, caught in each other’s gaze, looked for the small signs of doubt, discomfort or remorse. But neither MC nor Jake felt that way.

On the contrary, every second the two stared into each other’s eyes, the desire grew in them to feel again the feeling of their lips against each other. But this time prepared, this time right.

Both wanted to taste each other’s lips, feel the texture of them. Let every little unevenness burn into their brain so that they would never forget about it again. Both wanted to press their bodies against each other, wanted to inhale the smell of the other, wanted to feel the dizziness that would be triggered by the amount of endorphins in their brains. Both wanted the happiness they could give each other to flow through their veins and forget the pain for a few seconds.

In addition, both finally wanted to satisfy their longing for each other completely, which had now built up over weeks, while they had fallen in love. They had never seen each other before, until now they didn’t even know each other’s voice. MC, in particular, had not even an idea what the man she fell head over heels in love looked like.

However, he had seen at least some pictures of her from social media. And that was also the reason why it had frightened him when she had opened the door for the three men. Because in the pictures he had seen of her, she seemed different. When she opened the door, she looked exactly the opposite of what he had seen in the pictures.

Of course, they were pictures and it was on social media, the place where almost everyone just showed the happy side. But the atmosphere she had in the pictures was nothing you can fake, she seemed to shine in the pictures. Not like gold, not with beauty, even though she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Her personality was what made her shine, her strength, her humor and her impudence. He could feel the mischievous side of her, he could see the sparkle in her eyes, he could feel how powerful she was. Not powerful in the sense of, she had the say, they had power over others. She was powerful because of her honesty, her openness, her impartiality, the respect she had for everyone. By her helpfulness, by the courage that had flowed through her veins when he met her.

Even if she had sometimes lost this courage, for which no one could blame her, given the circumstances in which they were. So she had never given up, no matter how hard it was. Yes, she had thought about it, several times, maybe she had even been close to it, but she had not done it, she had not given up. She had helped him in any situation, she had revived a whole Internet movement to protect him, to help him. She had gone through hell to save his sister, though for a while, she had not even known at the beginning that Hannah was his sister. Just like Lilly.

Even though he had kept so many things from her, even though he had kept her in the dark for so long. Although, without the background information, he may have seemed a little creepy to other people who didn’t know him, it had never stopped her from making her own picture of him. To get to know him, to hear a part of his story, which he had already hidden for four years.

Yes, she was so brave that she wanted to confront the perpetrator, the man without a face, Richy. That she would have sacrificed herself to save Hannah’s life, if Richy’s words were correct. Yes, it was also a little bit naive, almost a little stupid, that she had actually considered going for the deal, because she could have been killed.

Nevertheless, it impressed him so incredibly that she would have done it; he would never have allowed it, never wanted it. He would never have accepted it, but he was impressed, deeply impressed by her, from the very first second.

And all that, her strength, her courage, all that he could also clearly see in the pictures he saw.

She was powerful because her heart was in the right place.

But unfortunately there was little of it, until nothing at all, when she had opened the door and did not even give a real reaction. She seemed to be indifferent; she seemed to have already suspected that he was being arrested. She seemed to be broken by what had happened, and he could absolutely understand it; every human being would be broken by all this burden. Crushed by all the pain of the last few weeks, made less emotional by all the grief, maybe dead inside. Yes, that matched the impression she gave when the door was opened, dead inside, no real opinion, no real mind. So full of confusion and pain of betrayal that she had to experience through an actual friend. And he knew the feeling so well, he knew it too well, he was like that himself, through four years of escape. By the fact that he had lost everything and everyone that had meant something to him, by the fact that he himself had been betrayed. Betrayed by a long-believed friend, a friend who had taken advantage of him and acted only for his own good. From a friend who was to blame for the young hacker losing his life.

There was not much left of her true nature; the dark shadow had spread over her. And he didn’t want to know how bad it must have been for her the days before, how she must have felt right after. How she had survived the days without losing her mind completely; if he knew, if he had seen her that way, it would have destroyed him as well. But that wouldn’t have stopped him from doing whatever it took to help her at least a little bit. Unfortunately, this opportunity was not given to him because of his arrest.

But right now, right at that moment, he could see a small spark of what he had seen in her pictures.

Right now, at that moment, while they were both holding each other’s face, could see and feel each other. While they could look at each other, he felt as if he could see a bit of what he had saw from her photos.

And he knew that he was the reason, he was the reason. Just as he was now her reason to see a little life in her eyes, so she had been for him a few weeks ago. When she entered his life, in which she tore the door out of the hinges without consideration, and snuck directly into his heart. When she was suddenly in his life, treating him like a human being and understanding him, when he was at an absolute low point. As deep as never before.

He had lost everything four years ago, he was on the run from the law, from the government. Had no one in his life, no one.

A few years ago, when he contacted Hannah, he had hoped to someday be part of her family. At least of her and Lilly, but that went as wrong as he never thought possible, because she had fallen in love with him. So he had to cancel the contact and was sure that he would never hear from her again. After all, the beginning had ended before it even started. So he had to live with the fact that, after the death of his mother, he probably could never have a family again.

But then Hannah suddenly sended the email, out of nowhere, sought contact with him, a thing he had never expected. And although he had only seen it days later, the tiny spark of hope lit up in him that he might have a family again. And that was before he read the content of her email, and he immediately had the little hope that Hannah knows the truth. That he’s her brother, that they have the same father, and that she wanted to meet him now, him, as her brother. But when he saw her message, in which she had asked him for help, only concern spread in him, she sounded frightened. Even he could see it, read it out.

So he immediately grabbed his phone and called the number she had given him.

And barely a minute after she answered, he had to watch her abduction. Had to watch her get hurt in front of his eyes, heard her call for help, scream his name, ask him for help. But he could do absolutely nothing, nothing at all, and again his hope for a family was destroyed. He had to live with the fear that his sister might die, because he had no idea what had happened. Why she was kidnapped. He had no idea.

And then, then MC came. Suddenly, despite all the worry he had in his life, suddenly there was a ray of hope at the end of the dark tunnel. Suddenly there was a ray of sunshine that finally showed him the way out of the tunnel.

MC, who gave him the opportunity to finally see an end. A ray of hope that helped him not to stumble blind, surrounded by darkness through the tunnel, but to finally find the exit.

The ray of hope that helped him to see, and finally to give him a goal that was not only "survive". Because he set himself the goal to do everything necessary to be able to feel her light, and her warmth forever.

Even though everything was still dark around him, he was guided by this light. Finally, he had seen the sparkle of joy in his own eyes again.

And right now, she had to feel like he did, when he saw her, right now she saw him, actually. And it seemed to show her a sudden way out, a way out of all the pain of the last few weeks.

And damn it, he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t proud to give her back what she had unknowingly given him. Hope, joy, love.

He was proud that he seemed to be simbolizing just that for her. So proud that he was finally not the shadow that took away the light from other, the one that dragged everyone into the darkness. But that he could be the light that helped her to see a little hope, just like she had done for him.

Three days ago, he had told her that he loved her, "MC, I love you" he had written to her, "I love you."

And she had answered him, "I love you too."

And it was absolutely right, true, he loved her, he loved her above all else in the world, with every fiber of his body, with every cell in him. So much so that it hurt, even if it sounded cheesy, it was the truth.

He had told her that he loved her, but he had also told her that he was completely at her mercy. That he could never escape her, because if he tried, he would only be driven to her more and more.

And that too had been nothing but the pure truth.

But what he just felt, that topped everything again. Everything he had said was true, but right now, as they were looking at each other, while both were crying in pain. Then he realized, then he understood how understated all this had been, the truth was that there were no words for how he felt. How much he loved her, how much he adored her, how much she had him in her hands, how much she influenced him.

He would do anything for her, anything, really anything, he would do anything if she asked him to. He would do anything to make her happy, do anything to be by her side, do anything to protect her. Do whatever it takes to give her what she deserved. He was totally at her mercy, she had him absolutely in her hand, absolutely in her power, God, he felt like she was his queen. His queen, and he was her court jester. She would only have to say a tiny word, and he would set the world on fire for her.

And right now, looking into her red and tears-filled eyes, he realized how much he really needed her. How much he actually loves her.

And this realization made him cry more and more. Because, a damned storm of happiness, finally not being alone anymore, finally having someone he could love, washed through his body and let the feeling of being alive flow through his body again.

He was crying for happiness, and he was crying for love, for love for MC, but coupled with happiness, that damn fear came at the same time. The fear that destroyed everything, the fear that he could lose her. The fear of what would happen to him if he really lost her, in whatever way.

He knew that if this happened, if she disappeared from his life again, he would not survive it.

He had only known her for a few weeks, but he already knew. If she, the only ray of hope in his world, were to disappear, the darkness would devour him, he would drown in the darkness. It would destroy him, it would kill him.

"God, damn Jake" MC cried and the sheer despair had returned to her face. She kept hitting his chest with her left hand, sobbing, the thumb of her right hand drew rough circles on his cheek. He could feel her fingernails digging into the back of his head, but it wasn’t really painful. On the contrary, he liked it, because he felt her.

But the confusion of her renewed strong crying spreaded in him.

"MC" he said, his voice was so incredibly rough that he had to clear his throat so that it sounded a little understandable at all.

"Damn Jake!" her voice rose a few octaves: "Why don’t you answer me all the time? You scare me!" she declared desperately and let her hand wipe over his cheek to stop the flow of tears.

Then he understood, he had drifted so completely into his thoughts, looking into her eyes, he had drowned in them. In her beautiful eyes, and through his feelings, which he had only now really realized and understood, at least the extent of this.

"You started crying, so suddenly, so extreme, tell me what’s going on, please," she pleaded, begging and leaning a little towards him.

He glanced briefly over her beautiful features, his heart leaping as he saw her lips he had kissed earlier. When he saw her red cheeks with which she looked so sweet. When he saw the small crease between her eyebrows that came from her worried facial expression.

A trembling went through him, followed by a sob, then a small laugh. A laugh of disbelief at this whole situation that was so strange and yet so beautiful that no one would ever believe it. Then he looked back into her eyes. He recognized the look that silent pleading that he should finally tell her why he had stared at her after kissing her. And why he had to start crying afterwards and all that, although he had not really noticed it himself.

Then finally, he managed to speak. "I love you," he just said, "I love you, MC, I love you so much."

He didn’t give her a chance to answer; he didn’t let a second pass until he pulled her face to his again to kiss her. And she immediately returned the kiss.

She pressed herself as close as possible to his body. So much so that he could no longer hold himself upright, and fell with his back against the back of the sofa.

But no one was bothered by it. Both of them had completely forgotten that they were not even alone in the apartment. That Jake was actually arrested. And also that this visit was actually not a uniting of two broken and mutually incredible loving people. The real reason was to recruit MC to help them, the FBI, with a job that could cause Jake to lose his status as a wanted criminal and be a free person again.

But both had absolutely no time to waste the slightest thought on it, not now.

It was much more important to concentrate on each other and somehow to express the emotional chaos that prevailed in both. And that by kissing each other as if they were both dying, if they wouldn’t.

Their lips matched each other so perfectly that it could almost not be natural. Her body snuggled against his so perfectly that it was impossible other than to believe that the two were destined for each other from the beginning.

As the kiss became more and more intense, the two longed more and more to be closer than they were right now. Desire sprouted in the two, causing them to bring the kiss to the next level, while at the same time opening their lips a little until their tongue met.

MC whimpered as she perceived the feeling from his tongue, which clearly seemed to dominate her movements. It made her want to ease the slowly but steadily rising heat between her legs by letting her pelvis rock against his.

Jake, still holding his hands to her cheeks, gasped and pressed himself toward her. Then his left hand left her face. He stroked her back down and stopped on her lower back to exert pressure while she let her hips roll against his a second time.

The button, his jeans were at the perfect height of her clit and the friction against the fabric of his pants and the small round metal made millions of hot flashes seem to shoot through her veins and elicited her another gasp. She let her hands slide through his pitch black and incredibly soft hair. She gently pulled a few strands, which drew a soft growling from him.

But then a deep and annoyed voice suddenly destroyed everything and brought them back to reality in a terrible way: "Okay, that’s enough now!" thundered the agent, who had been the nicer of the two before. Probably not anymore now.

All of a sudden, Jake was sitting candle-straight on the sofa again. Both were completely shocked and stared at the agent, who returned their gaze with disbelief: "We wanted you to get your shit together and not to fuck each other."

"Fuck" Jake gasped and dropped his head against the shoulder of MC, who clearly had to resist a loud laugh.

"Oops, you are still here." she giggled and only now took her hands out of Jake’s hair.

"Yes, we are, but we don’t have all day, you’re lucky that you got that time you had. Our concern is important and we have no time to give away! Mr Donfort, you should know that exactly."

With a firm stride, the agent went back to the chair opposite the sofa, the second following him.

"Would you please go down from him now? Otherwise I will help you." he asked the young woman, who then quickly rose from the lap of Jake, who immediately straightened his pants and cleared his throat.

"Like teenagers," the agent continued to complain, as MC sat next to Jake and then clung to his arm. Not for fear or the like, but simply because she wanted to be as close as possible to him.

Before one of the two agents could finally start reporting on what was going on, MC leaned over to Jake’s ear and whispered, "I love you too"

Jake looked down at her with a loving smile and then leaned closer to her to kiss her again.

The agent actually wanted to stop this immediately, but he simply swallowed the words; it would bring nothing.

"Well, if I have your attention now?"

The young couple did not look at him; they just kept looking deep into each other’s eyes, but both nodded.

The agent sighed, but then he just started: "Well, my name is Flynn, special agent at the FBI. This next to me is my colleague Special Agent Flag."

The young woman finally released her gaze from the black-haired one and this time looked at the two agents quite emotionless.

"I don’t care who you are, just tell me what to do for you."

Agent Flynn looked at her with his eyebrow raised, as if he didn’t quite understand that she already knew what was going on here.

"Well, you want my or rather, our help, 'cause you’re stuck on something, right? As deal you propose that Jake can finally live a normal life again without being wanted by you. So tell me, whose ass do I have to kick?"

| Masterlist |

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

Father of Mine – 2/2

Character: Bruce Wayne x Daughter!Reader

Summary: With the tragic passing of her mother, Y/N learns to the truth of who her father is.

Word Count: 4,100+

Warnings: absent father, subtle violence, mention of family death

A/N: The reader is described as tall in this fic. Bruce Wayne is 6′2 and I’m tall, so I’m indulging myself with no apologies. Read it or don’t.

Part 1

Bruce was working in the cave when Alfred interrupted him.

“Master Wayne, a guest has arrived unexpectedly.”

Bruce gave him a strange look. Hardly anyone showed up to the manor unannounced.

“Ms. Y/L/N,” Alfred added.

“Right,” Bruce sighed.

“She’s waiting for you in your office.”

Bruce found Y/N pacing in the room, refusing to take the seat that he was sure Alfred offered her.

“Y/N,” he greeted, remembering how she disliked the formalities last night.

She whipped around at his greeting. “Am I your charity case now?”

He feigned confusion. “I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about.”

She looked offended by his lie. “Don’t insult my intelligence. You paid all of my outstanding expenses that my mother left me.”

Bruce opened his mouth.

“Don’t try to lie to me,” she warned.

Bruce closed his mouth.

“Look, I don’t need your help,” Y/N sighed in obvious irritation. “Did you or did you not pay them?”

He took in a shallow breath, “I did.”

Y/N clenched her jaw as Bruce finally admitted his deed.

“I was only trying to help.”

“You can’t just throw money at me and expect it to make up for being a no-show.”

Bruce tensed. 

Did that mean…Did she know?

“You read the letter?” He asked.

“No,” she clarified. “But I figured it out.”

“I had no idea,” he tried to tell her.

“I don’t care,” she almost snorted.

“You have ever right to be angry with me…”

“I’m not angry. I’m annoyed.”

She took a defiant step toward him and crossed her arms.

The heeled boots she had on caused her already tall height to make her be eye to eye with Bruce. 

How many people had faced off with Batman and cowered with fear? 

But she didn’t submit or show any signs of intimidation.

“Do you think I cried myself to sleep every night as a child, wondering where my dad was or why he didn’t want me?” Y/N hissed.

Bruce didn’t respond.

“You think I give a fuck about the father-daughter dances? Or whatever the hell people think dads are only capable of doing?” She narrowed her eyes. “The thing is…I didn’t need you. I didn’t need you then and I don’t need you now.”

Bruce felt sick as he listened to her.

“I have the sneaking suspicion that you wouldn’t have been there for those anyway,” she added roughly. “My mom loved me more than enough. I didn’t need anyone else. And she made damn sure of that.”

“So I’m not your charity case to make yourself feel better after my mom made it clear she thought it was better to keep me from you, than to ever tell you that I existed. Says a lot about what kind of person she thought you are, huh?”

When Y/N finally stopped, she was taking deep breaths.

Bruce wondered how long she had that all bottled up. He didn’t think anything she said was a lie. Y/N didn’t need him. That had become clear.

She had grown up to be a successful, intelligent, and independent young woman.

And she got that way without a father figure of any sort.

After a few moments, Bruce finally bowed his head and cleared his throat. “I never intended on making you feel like a charity case.”

Bruce saw as Y/N took in a deep breath and the guilt slowly took over her expression.  

“Look,” Y/N sighed, “we finally know the truth. Let’s just…let’s just move on with our lives. OK?”  

Bruce couldn’t deny that the suggestion hurt.

After processing the news over the past week or so, he realized he wanted to get to know her. This wasn’t the first time a child of his had been dropped on him far too late. He had failed Damian in so many ways because of it. 

But Y/N was a young woman, fully developed and independent now. And Bruce couldn’t help but wonder that him being absent from her childhood had only benefitted her.

“If that’s what you want,” he finally told her.

Y/N didn’t know him well enough to hear the underlying pain in his words.

So she simply nodded and walked past him, having nothing more to say.

——————

Bruce adjusted his tie. He wanted nothing more than to rip it off his neck.

But he was on his best behavior tonight.

This year, the Gotham Gazette was given the honor of hosting the Pulitzer Prizes. And since Bruce and Wayne Enterprises donated quite a large sum of money to the Gotham Gazette, they felt inclined to invite him.

Bruce had every intention of skipping, until he found out that Lois Lane was receiving an award and Clark would also be attending.

He figured the least he could do was congratulate her and say hi to both of them.

That’s why he was trying to find them as soon as possible so he could and get the hell out of there.

Bruce finally spotted Clark talking to a woman whose back was to him. All he saw of her was the black dress and y/h/c hair. 

He made his way over.

Clark noticed him when he was a few feet away.

“I see you’ve finally left your cave,” he teased with a lift of his brow. “I honestly didn’t expect you to show.”

But when the woman Clark was speaking to turned to look at him, Bruce swore he felt his heart stop.  

Y/N’s eyes widened slightly, clearly just as surprised at seeing Bruce.

None of this went missed by Clark. “Oh, do you two know each other?”

Bruce didn’t know how to respond. What would Y/N want? 

So he hesitated.

“I shot him for a cover once,” Y/N answered quickly.

She was a shockingly smooth liar.

Maybe she got that from Bruce, too.

But she didn’t realize that Clark could hear her heart rate quicken, catching the fib.

“And how exactly do you two know each other?” Bruce asked, recovering quickly.

“Y/N works with Lois a lot,” Clark answered. “She basically refuses to work with any other photographer.”

Y/N managed to force a smile.

“I should actually go find her and say my congrats,” she answered. 

“And I need to hunt down a drink,” she mumbled. 

Both men caught it.

Clark was rather taken aback by how she fled.

The Y/N he knew was always charming and kind, usually life of the party. He’d never seen her dodge a conversation in such a way before.

As soon as she was out of hearing range, Clark gave a intimidating glare to Bruce.

“Want to tell me what that was about?” He asked Bruce.

But Bruce only clenched his jaw.

“Past fling?” Clark asked with a somewhat disappointed tilt of his head.

“No. Nothing like that,” Bruce quickly corrected.

Not only did the idea make him feel sick. But if rumors started of the two of them being romantically linked, Bruce knew it would only make Y/N hate him more than she clearly already did. 

Thankfully, Clark took his denial seriously.

“She’s not my biggest fan,” Bruce added darkly.

“Y/N is a good friend,” Clark told him – almost in warning. “Lois and her have become rather close over the years.”

Then Clark smirked. “She does know how to hold a grudge though. And she’ll make your life hell...if you deserve it.” 

Bruce’s brain hurt as he realized how easily Y/N and his path’s could’ve crossed. She had been friends with Clark and Lois this whole time?

“I’m happy for her,” Clark added.

“Happy for her?”

Clark looked at Bruce as if it was obvious. “She’s being awarded tonight, too.”

How could Bruce not have realized? Why didn’t he think of looking at the list of people being awarded tonight? He’d been dreading attending so much that he didn’t even consider it.

“Bruce?” Clark asked with concern.

“Hmm?” He was not one to hum or mumble.

“You alright?”

Bruce didn’t have a lot of friends.

But Clark Kent was one of them. And him and Diana had noticed how Bruce was acting off for weeks now. Bruce was notorious for remaining stoic and giving nothing for people to try and guess what he was thinking or feeling. But they both knew it was something different. 

Someone over Bruce’s shoulder suddenly waved Clark over.

“If you’ll excuse me,” Clark told Bruce politely.

Bruce’s first instinct was to leave now that he knew Y/N was also in attendance.

But he knew he couldn’t act so cowardly.

Was he really that scared of his own daughter?

His eyes glanced around the room looking for her.

He spotted Y/N at one of the bars.

Either her conversation with Lois had been quick, or she simply used that as an excuse to get away from Bruce.

Bruce walked up beside Y/N at the bar.

He knew she felt his arrival by the way her body tensed.

“Had I known you would be here I would not have attended,” he told her while looking straight ahead.

Y/N ignored his apology. “How do you know Clark?”

“He’s a friend,” Bruce answered casually.

Then he allowed himself to take a sideways glance at her.

Her jaw was clenched.

He wondered what thoughts she was holding back.

Y/N really did remind him of her mother.

When they were together, Bruce was convinced she was the prettiest girl in the world. He wondered if Y/N had found someone in her life who told her the same.

“Congratulations on being honored tonight,” Bruce offered sincerely.

“Thank you,” she answered shortly.

A beat passed between them.

Bruce was about to give up and leave her be.

“Does Clark think I’m one of your one-night stands now?”

Y/N might not know Bruce well, but everyone was familiar with his romantic history. He wasn’t one to keep the same woman around for long. 

“No,” he quickly answered. “I made sure to prevent such a rumor from starting.”

Y/N finally slowly turned to him, her annoyance clear. “And you’re convinced that he really believed you?” She asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Yes, Clark has always been rather good at detecting a lie.” His tone was so confident that it left little room for argument.

But Bruce knew a losing battle when he saw one.

He dipped his head. “Enjoy the rest of your night. Congratulations again.”

But Bruce lingered, debating if he wanted to say what was on my mind.

“You look very beautiful. Just like your mother.”

There was nothing creepy or contrived about it.

Y/N blinked at the compliment, completely taken aback.

“Goodnight, Y/N.” Bruce dipped his head and finally surrendered, leaving the party.

Y/N felt a presence behind her shoulder as he watched him leave.

“Was Bruce Wayne just hitting on you?” Lois asked with amusement.

“No. Not at all,” her tone was dazed and confused.

“He’s a good guy,” Lois told her lightly.

“Doubt it.”

“I mean it,” Lois insisted. “The media has given him a bad image. But I think he likes it that way,” she shrugged. “It’s not easy for him to open up. He’s not quick to trust.”

Lois thought she was building up a possible suitor for Y/N, having not a clue that she was describing Y/N’s father to her.

But Y/N was too busy thinking about how much Bruce sounded like her.

—————

A few weeks had gone by since Bruce and Y/N had run into each other at the ceremony.

It got Bruce to thinking: would he and Y/N had run into each other at some point in life – even without her mother’s posthumously confession?

Y/N knew Lois and Clark, lived in Gotham, seemed to know the same people through her work that Bruce was forced to interact with to keep up his persona.

Would he have sensed a connection had that been the case?

The possibilities kept Bruce up at night…along with the guilt that had already been eating away at him since he first read the later. And he’d read it 100 times more since.

Of all the boys, Dick was the only one that knew of Y/N’s existence. And if he hadn’t been at the right place at the right time, Bruce never would’ve told him. He had just been in shock after reading the letter that he blurted out the realization while Dick was in the same room.

Since then, Bruce didn’t linger in a room alone with him, knowing Dick would finally let all of his questions loose. And Bruce wasn’t ready to answer them.

While Tim was the one to connect them, he never followed through with what the situation was. He already had too much to deal with on a daily basis. Tim simply thought he was doing a nice favor for a beautiful woman. 

But if Bruce had told him, Tim would immediately do every possible background check on Y/N. He would be suspicious of the timing and underlying motives. He would probably assume that Y/N’s end goal was to get money or fame – or both. Bruce knew eventually Tim would come to the conclusion that Y/N wanted neither of those things. But it would still get an unnecessary rise out of the boy.

Bruce didn’t even want to think about how Damian would handle it. He knew his son felt a certain level of pride from being the only blood-son of his. Knowing he had a sibling – and an older sister at that – would most likely enrage him. And that wouldn’t make anything better. 

Jason…Well, Jason would get a kick out of Bruce letting down yet another child. And it would just be worse that she was blood related. He’d be curious about Y/N. Hell, he’d probably be tickled by the no-bullshit attitude Y/N had towards Bruce and her harsh efforts to keep him out of her life completely.

Now, Bruce sat at a Justice League meeting.

They were only a few minutes into a council session when his communicator started going off.

The boys knew not to contact him unless it was an emergency. So, he quickly excused himself and stood to leave the room.

“What is it?” Bruce answered, his Batman voice in full form.

“There’s been an attack at city hall,” Dick reported back hurriedly.

Bruce frowned. The boys had handled much worse things on their own before. There had to be more to it than that.

“Scarecrow,” Dick confirmed. “He released a fear toxin. It’s bad Bruce. The mayor has been infected, along with half of their staff. I think it’s a new string. Our antidote doesn’t seem to doing anything. Even if it did, we don’t have nearly enough for the amount of victims.”

“The others?” Bruce asked quickly – meaning Damian, Jason, and Tim.

“They’re fine. Jason’s trying to get everyone out before they inhale too much. Tim and Damian went after Scarecrow. GPD is in a panic.”

Bruce turned to see Clark had raced to his side. Clearly he had been eavesdropping on the conversation. But the expression in his face prevented Bruce from getting into an argument about it.

“What?” Bruce asked him, knowing something was wrong.

“Lois and Y/N were at that council meeting,” Clark breathed out.

“We’ll be there soon,” Bruce told Dick before hanging up.

��

Bruce thought he knew fear from the few times his boys had been in trouble. But it was nothing compared to the fear he had knowing it was Y/N this time. She wasn’t a trained vigilante; she was just an innocent civilian. Bruce had not insured that she was trained and could take care of herself.

As soon as Clark dropped them on the ground, they were in the midst of the chaos.

“Lois!” Clark yelled.

People were too distracted to notice Superman and Batman had arrived.

Bruce looked over to see Lois rushing to Clark. He could tell it took all of Clark’s willpower not to embrace Lois from his relief.

“Are you OK?” Clark asked as he dipped his head and his eyes raced across his wife’s body.

“I-I’m fine. I got lucky. Somehow I was out of range of the gas explosion.”

“Y/N?” Bruce interrupted. “Did you see Y/N?”

“She was helping these kids get out and I was getting shoved out of the building. I tried to get to her but it was impossible with everyone’s panic. I think she’s still in there.”

Before Bruce could turn to Clark to come up with a plan, Clark flew into the building. A few people finally noticed the presence of superheroes and started murmuring.

“Nightwing, Red Hood – I’m at the front entrance of City Hall.”

Clark flew back to them not even 30 seconds later.

Y/N was unconscious in his arms.

“Oh my god,” Lois muttered at Y/N’s condition.

“She’s gone into shock. We need to get her to the medics,” Clark informed them. “She was exposed to the toxin more than the others.”

But Bruce was already shaking his head. “They won’t be able to help her.”

Clark gently handed Y/N to Bruce as he explained, “There are others in there.”

Just then Nightwing and Red Hood dropped in front of them.

Nightwing immediately recognized Y/N and his eyes shot up to Bruce with worry.

“Nightwing, I need you to take her back to the cave,” he tried to sound as controlled as possible.

Bruce was confused why Dick hesitated to take Y/N out of his arms.

“Do you have the batmobile? I brought my motorcycle,” Dick sounded apologetic when he explained.

Jason stepped forward before Bruce could answer. “I got her.”

As if she were the most fragile being ever, Jason carefully took Y/N’s unconscious body from Bruce’s grip. He could see in Bruce’s gaze that she was someone special. How and why, Jason would figure out later. 

Jason had seen Y/N trying to help as many people before she was completely poisoned from the toxin. She’d risked her life to help. 

Watching Jason cradle her into his body caught Clark off guard, always seeing the brute strength and almost animalistic energy from Red Hood whenever they so happened to fight beside each other.

“Meet us at the cave,” Bruce clarified. “Alfred will know what to do. We have to help out here more.”

Jason nodded before he hurried away with her and rushed to his hidden car.  

——————

Y/N’s eyes snapped open and she shot up, sitting in a cot.

“Hey, hey, hey,” a voice she didn’t recognize said beside her. “You gotta relax.”

She turned to see a mammoth of a man sitting beside her, wearing vigilante gear with at least two guns being displayed at his sides. But it was the red helmet completely hiding his face and true voice that made Y/N feel uncomfortable.

“What the fuck,” she groaned at the sight of him.

Just a few seconds later, two men rushed into the room.

Bruce walked in still in his Batman uniform, but without his cowl – to Jason’s shock.

Clark was beside him, making Jason confused as to why he was still here. Surely he would want to be with Lois. 

Y/N took in the sight before her.

“You were poisoned with a new strand of Scarecrow’s toxin,” Superman explained.

Y/N had seen plenty of pictures and shaky video of him. But now that the man stood before her, she immediately recognized him.

“Clark?” She gasped.

He didn’t say anything. But his expression didn’t fight her realization, just silently waited for the truth to settle.

“Does Lois know?” Was her next question.

Clark smirked at that. “Of course.”

Y/N gave a slight nod.

But now her attention switched to Bruce. 

The Batman symbol was large across his chest, and his cape was still intact.

She looked around her surroundings and then up at the ceiling.

They were in a cave.

“You’re…you’re…” she couldn’t finish her sentence.

“Batman,” Bruce finally offered.

Y/N’s eyes were wide with panic.

How was this possible?

Now that the others had exposed their identity, Jason felt inclined to take off his helmet. Clearly, it was making her uncomfortable.

The hiss of his helmet being removed caused Y/N to finally look away from her father and to Jason, who still wore a domino mask. But it was far less frightening than the helmet.

“We’ll give you two a moment alone,” Clark spoke for both him and Jason.

Jason nodded and stood up from the seat beside Y/N, and walked out. 

Clark lingered in the doorway. “I’ll be right outside if you need me,” he told her.

He might’ve revealed his Superman identity to her, but she was still his friend.

Y/N managed to nod in thanks, but was clearly still shook by all this news.

Bruce very slowly made his way to the chair that Jason had just been sitting in.

“How are you feeling?”

She shook her head. “Body’s sore. Migraine is killing me. What happened?”

“You were more exposed to the toxin more than the other victims. Jason brought you here. We had to make a new anecdote, and quickly.”

Bruce wanted to add that she could’ve died. But he didn’t see the use in scaring her.

“Oh,” was all she managed to mumble.

An awkward silence settled between them.

“Very few people know the truth about me,” Bruce explained.

Y/N’s gaze flickered up from her lap to look at him.

“I don’t expect you to forgive me. But I figured I couldn’t ask you to allow me into your world if I didn’t allow you into mine.”

She was silent.

“Y/N…” Bruce cleared his throat. The time had come. “The reason I left your mother was because I was starting this life. I pushed her away to protect her. I knew I couldn’t be the man she deserved while also being Batman. Had I known the truth…”

His words died out. It was starting to become harder to control his emotions.

He leaned forward in his chair, just getting slightly closer to her.

“Had I known about you, I would’ve…” He cleared his throat to try and hold back his tears. “I never would’ve abandoned you or your mother.”

He leaned back then. “But I know those are just words. And to you, they probably sound like empty promises for the past.”

“She never knew?” Y/N whispered.

In the few moments she was allowed to process this information, her mind immediately wondered if her mom had known about Bruce’s double life all along. And that’s why she kept him away from her.

Bruce shook his head.

“Thank you…for trusting me enough to tell me your secret,” Y/N finally told him. “I promise I’ll never tell anyone,” she quickly added, feeling like she just needed to clarify that to him.

He gave her a small small, “I know.”

Y/N winced as she thought about how terrible she’d been to him all this time. Now that she knew the truth – the whole truth – she was looking at everything with a new perspective. Even what she knew about Bruce Wayne, the spoiled socialite... it was clearly all wrong. 

He used it as a cover. It was all a cover.

“I’m sorry for how I’ve treated you,” she whispered shakily.

But Bruce shook his head before she could even get the apology out.

“Do you think it’s too late for us?” She breathed. 

Could they ever find any fragment of a father-daughter relationship?

Y/N was an adult – she had been for years now. And she made it clear she didn’t need nor want a father.

“Believe it or not, this isn’t the first time this has happened to me,” Bruce sighed.

Her brow furrowed. “This meaning…?”

“My son, Damian. His mother kept him a secret from me. She didn’t reveal his existence until he was nine. And she only did it in an attempt to disrupt my life.”

“This seems to be a rather strange pattern in your life,” Y/N couldn’t help but point out.

Bruce glared at her, causing her to chuckle.

“My point is,” he continued, “I don’t think it’s ever too late.” And he cleared his throat quickly. “That is, if you want to try.”

“I think I do,” she answered with a shy smile.

It was the first time she’d done so in his presence.

“I don’t know anything about raising a daughter,” Bruce rubbed his face as he attempted to make the joke. But she could tell there was sincerity there, too.

“Well, I’ve already been raised,” Y/N laughed.

There.

That laugh.

It brought Bruce back to his teenage years. It sounded so much like her mother. Her face lit up just like her’s had.

“You remind me so much of your mother,” he gasped.

Her face dropped at his confession.

“Really?”

He nodded. “She said you were just like me. But there’s more of her in you than I think she ever realized.”

Bruce saw his much his words effected her.

Y/N’s eyes were shiny with tears, but she managed to hold them back.

“So what now?” She quickly asked, obviously trying to distract herself so she wouldn’t have a complete emotional breakdown.

“Well, Alfred should have dinner ready soon. Would you stay?”

She gave him a tear-filled smile. “I’d like that.”

“You can meet the rest of them,” Bruce told her casually as he stood.

“The rest of them?”

He nodded. “Well, you only have to meet Damian now. You already met Jason, Dick, and Tim in passing.”

“And here I thought you had no idea how to be a father…” Y/N muttered with amusement.

Bruce helped her get out of bed, making sure she was alright to stand and walk on her own.

“Well, depending on which of them you ask, they might tell you that you’re right.”

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

Thank you to everyone who read the first part. Let me know what you think <3

BONUS: This Game of Ours

[tbzloonar]

FIVE MEMORIES OF REALIZATION.

❛ i had one purpose, and the purpose was to realize that that incident was the greatest mistake i have ever made in my entire life. ❜

❥ summary: an angel has granted younghoon one more chance to save his friend, and to fix the worst mistake he has ever done in his entire life—which was completely accidental. ❥ pairing: kim younghoon x gn!reader (ft. kim hyunjin of loona!) ❥ warnings: brief mention of death & vague car accident & a description of drowning, lots of swearing in the first part my bad. not medically accurate, i am not a doctor! ❥ genre: angst, fluff, friends to lovers, soulmate au, life and death? ❥ word count: 3.3k (3,392 words) ❥ a/n: & here it is! finally back from my hiatus. i hope everyone enjoys this piece as much as i enjoyed writing it, i know maya has been waiting for this to drop as soon as i posted the teaser for it (hi maya hope u like this <33) also, apologies for the last part if it was kinda inaccurate (medically wise lol) already put it in the warning but this is what i was able to write with minimal research.

permanent taglist: @kimsohn @seung-scrittore @jangwonie (send an ask to be added or removed!

↳ m.list | tbz m.list

YOUNGHOON WAS FUCKED FOR SURE.

He couldn't remember anything for shit, and oh the headache he was having right now was the worst. He couldn't even see anything, even though he had his eyes open, and could feel the movement of them opening and closing as he panicked, all he saw was a color darker than the black he knew. He couldn't feel his body on a surface, it's like he was floating.

He figured this was a dream of some sort, but was starting to panic even more as he faded into sleep. His body felt weak. And then, he finally drifted off.

Only a few seconds later, he jolted awake suddenly, trying to regain his breath while desperately practicing any type of breathing exercise that came to his mind. He felt like he was drowning for a full second, hopelessly trying to reach the shore above. But there was no shore in Younghoon’s case, in fact, he had no clue where the hell he was.

He was in a white room, like—completely white. Everything there was white, the bed he was laying on, the chairs around, the tables and—wait, who is that?

There walked in a woman, everything she wore was also white, she had beautiful long and curly brown hair, thick eyebrows with long eyelashes to compliment her look. Younghoon thought she looked beautiful, if he had to say so himself.

She then laughed, “why thank you.”

Younghoon’s eyes widened in shock, did he really say that out loud? He just embarrassed himself before proper introduction.

“No, you didn’t.” The woman responded. She walked into a part of the room that looked like the kitchen, not different to any of the other rooms as it was also white. She poured some water into her cup and used a spoon to mix the solution. “Tea?”

“Um,” Younghoon by now had already guessed that she could read his mind, so he tried his best to keep his thoughts silent. “No thanks.”

“Hm, shame.” She held her white up and walked towards Younghoon, sitting comfortably on the sofa in front of him. 

“Are you an Angel?” Younghoon asked bluntly, not knowing where his sudden confidence came from. He didn’t care though, he did almost die a few moments ago. At this point, he was gonna take any type of risk without rethinking the consequences that would take place.

“Well,” she responded while laughing, “you could say that I am sort of an angel I suppose.”

“So,” Younghoon awkwardly shifted on his bed, looking around the white room for a second inspection then finally settling his eyes on the woman in front of him once more. “I’m in heaven?”

“No, you’re not.” Before Younghoon could panic, she continued. “At least not yet.”

Obviously, that did not help with calming down Younghoon. “What the hell do you mean by not yet?”

“It is as simple as you hear it Mr. Kim,” she addresses him formally which makes the situation even more awkward, at least that’s what Younghoon thinks. But that doesn’t matter now, what matters is that he doesn't know where he is, hell he might even die in a few seconds, depending on what the lady in front of him decides to do. 

“Oh, but it’s not my decision to let you die or not,” she smiles with what seems to be an attempt at a comforting smile, yet it still didn’t help Younghoon feel any better. “Believe it or not, it is yours.”

“This has to be a dream of some sort,” Younghoon curls his body up and puts his head into his hands, “you have to be fucking with me.”

“Unfortunately I am not, I can assure you that this is very much real.” She sighs before placing her cup of tea on the small table in front of her, completely ignoring the fact that he had just swore in the presence of an angel, her. “The car accident that you’ve been in a few hours ago was caused by you, and since it was ruled as an accident, you have a chance to fix your mistake. Right here, right now.”

“I’m sorry, I’m not following,” Younghoon shook his head, “I’m not even supposed to be here, I’m supposed to either die or come back alive, I don’t know! You’re the angel here.”

“Indeed I am,” she stood up and walked around the room, looking around, leaving Younghoon confused from behind her. She paused in her footsteps as she looked at a small painting of a water fountain. After some thought, she looked back at Younghoon with a sigh. “You’ve been brought back to me, so I could help you fix your mistake, and find your soulmate.”

“My soulmate is already dead.” Younghoon angrily spoke up at the mention of a soulmate, “I’ve given up already, can we let that go?”

“I’m afraid we cannot,” she smiled warmly and walked towards him, pointing her finger to his face. “I advise you to close your eyes Mr. Kim.”

Younghoon didn’t have time to react as a bright light engulfed and took over his vision completely.

FIRST MEMORY.

Younghoon slowly uncovered his eyes when he realized he couldn’t hear anything. He blinked a couple of times as he tried to regain his already gained vision. Rubbing his eyes with a sigh he quietly stood up and scanned the place around him, he looked like he was in a backroom of some sort–a storage room. There were boxes all around him, before he could even reach the boxes and uncover whatever laid under, a voice interrupted his actions.

That voice was yours.

His head whipped around for his eyes to slowly rest on your figure. You were holding two large boxes that looked quite heavy. He knew you tried to hide it, but it was pretty obvious from the facial expression on your face that you were exhausted. You placed the box on the ground and gently laid your head on a stack of boxes that reached your height. You quickly regained your composure a few seconds later as a voice called your name.

There came out of the dark an older woman, who looked to be in her 70s, walking towards you with a limp in her walk and a small smile on her face. She held your face in her hands and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead.

“Thank you so much for helping me out child,” she took your hand and faced your palm towards the direction of the ceiling, placing a couple of coins in your hand before closing it into a fist. 

“Mrs. Lee, I’m fine really, I just wanted to help—” you attempted to persuade her, but she shook her head with a smile.

“You were the only one who helped,” she replied with the smile still on her face, although it was slowly turning into a bittersweet one. “You’re not related to me in blood, unlike my children, yet you still wanted to help.”

Her small whisper broke Younghoon’s heart, he couldn’t understand how they wouldn’t help her with such simple tasks, leaving their mother all alone in her lonely place.

She removed her hand from yours and sighed, “you could wait with me until I close up, if you wish to stay for some tea with me. Although, you are of course free to leave as always.”

You nodded tiredly as a smile formed on your face, matching the one on Mrs. Lee’s face, “I’d love to have some tea with you.”

“That’s great!” She exclaimed, very excited to talk with you later. “I will be working on the cashier, you rest here for a bit.”

With a small nod you replied, too tired to speak, watching her stand out of the storage room and walk off. As soon as you were sure that she was out of your eye sight, you collapsed. Younghoon attempted to catch you but ended up falling with you as he realized that his hand went right through you. His eyes studied your lips as they parted, trying to make the breathing process a bit easier for yourself. 

He looked back into your eyes that were staring at whatever was behind him, and slowly but shakingly tried to place your hand beside your cheek, caressing it softly and ignoring the times his hand went through you. 

Younghoon sighed as the place started to slowly fade, as well as everything in front of him.

SECOND MEMORY.

Younghoon’s eyes land on the students that walk around him, not paying attention to him. Of course, he isn’t surprised by that fact. He already has accepted that he is somehow invincible, stuck in his memories filled by you. Why you?

He questions where you are in the groups of students when a voice from behind him catches his attention. 

“I don’t think I will ever understand any homework that she assigns, I swear!”

You laugh at their comment and walk beside them, following their pace. “It’s not that bad really, maybe you just hate the professor.”

“Or maybe you’re just too good at this subject!” They exclaim at your reply of defense, “you’re like the top student in her class.”

“I guess I just understand everything that she says easily,” you shrugged your shoulders and paused your walking to face your friend, once you realized you reached their class. “Or maybe it’s because I grew up with my family’s obsession with this whole major, I guess.”

Your friend rolled their eyes at your explanation that they had already heard, from all the times that you have told them and your other friends of small bits of your childhood in nostalgic conversations. Before they could speak, you cut them off with a quick offer. “If you want, I could help you like always.”

“Oh my god yes!” Your friend accepts with a smile as they squish you with a tight yet friendly hug. “Thank you so much!”

“It’s no problem really,” you break the contact and look back at them with the same smile, “see you later?”

“I’ll see you after my class, thank you again!”

Younghoon watches the friend walks to their class with a tinge of jealousy in his eyes, he then looks back at you and raises his eyebrows when he sees you reading from your phone. He walks over to your side and reads the email that the teacher has sent, explaining the assignment. 

Now that you have— not one, but two assignments to work on for your class, you are definitely going to be busier than usual today. Younghoon wishes that he could help you, but knows he is incapable of doing anything currently.

He sighs sadly.

THIRD MEMORY.

Younghoon finds himself in a place full of crowded people yet again, though he’s not in his school’s campus, but a busy street. He is specifically in front of a random charity store. 

He feels himself slowly becoming disappointed when he notices everyone ignoring the store and going their way, realizing that the store had been empty for a while.

Just as he had been wishing, you finally walked by him. Your steps suddenly pause, as well as Younghoon who was planning to follow you and walk by your side. He watches you walk towards the shop with a worried look in your eyes, he could tell you were contemplating whether or not to get inside and donate.

With only a small amount of money in your wallet, you head into the store with an optimistic smile. Greeting the person behind the counter kindly and handing the money they had.

Younghoon watched you with a bitter smile on his face, finding it quite bittersweet. With each memory he learns more and more about your kind heart.

FOURTH MEMORY.

“Huh?” Younghoon whispers to himself as he scans the place around him, he finds the place familiar, as if he had been in it before. The brick walls of the alleyway cover him. 

“Aww, hello there,” you coo at the kittens and the mom that were excited at the smell of food, the cat food that you bought from the pet shop down the street. “Oh, aren’t you all so cute?”

He realizes from the familiar clothes that you wore, that this memory might have been made on the same day as the charity place memory.

Younghoon turned his attention from the walls onto you, who’s crouched down and petting the cats as they eat the food that you put down for them. He walks over and crouches down as well, the smile on his face blooms as he looks at your face. He wonders if he’s ever paid attention to these special facial features on your face before.  

His attention goes back to the cats in front of him. He attempts to pet them but his hands go through them obviously, yet he still pretends as if he’s petting them normally. The cat meows at him and he pauses in response, feeling surprised at the cat feeling his presence, if not even being touched by him.

He looks back at you and feels his cheek go warm as a pretty pink settles over his face. Younghoon definitely knows what his favorite memory is now.

FIFTH MEMORY.

“The flower shop, aye?” Hyunjin asks you. 

“Well, yeah I guess,” you giggle in reply, “Mrs. Lee needed some help and I offered to help around the store here and there. I also go there sometimes to just talk with her, she’s become a great friend.”

“That’s great to hear,” Younghoon snaps his head in horror as he looks at himself, sitting in his respective seat. Memory Younghoon flashes a smile while you shyly look away and back at Hyunjin, continuing the conversation.

He remembers this memory clearly, as he had been in that position before, sitting in a coffee shop with his friends, chatting about anything and everything. You were there too, which makes sense why he was viewing this memory.

Younghoon, though, was now even more confused than he was before, the lady in the white room never explained that this could be possible. But, he guesses that anything could be possible when some sort of angel is involved.

The conversation continues and eventually comes to an end, everybody packs up their stuff and leaves— including Memory Younghoon. Out of everybody, only you and Hyunjin stay.

“When are you going to tell him?”

You choke on your drink, and Younghoon raises his eyebrows in confusion, while looking back and forth at the two of you. “Tell who?” You ask and act clueless, as if you don’t know what she’s talking about.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about Y/N,” she leaned in closer and crossed her arms. She whispers angrily, "when are you going to stop ignoring those dreams? I’ve been telling you that the only possible way to end the dreams might be just to tell him about them.”

“I don’t know,” you put your cup down and bite your lip anxiously, “I can’t just walk up to him randomly and be like ‘oh hey, I’m your soulmate, by the way,’ especially after—”

“Exactly!” Hyunjin cuts you off and leans back with a scoff, “that's exactly why he deserves to know. After Younghoon has told us that there's no chance that he has a soulmate, you could change that completely. His soulmate— is you.”

Younghoon stares at your face as you continue on talking, but your voice has been blocked out from his mind. The only thing he could focus on was you, and nothing else around him. He was in shock, he couldn’t form a sound and felt like everything surrounding him was going in slow motion. 

He snapped and was brought back to reality as soon as he noticed everything around him fade, his panic began to settle in as he ran towards you and tried catching your attention. He yelled and called out your name multiple times, but to no avail, no response was said from you.

Before the bright light engulfed his vision, he screamed at the top of his lungs and declared that his soulmate was you, Y/N L/N, all along. He wished in the couple of seconds that he had left that he would be given more time with you, not in memories, but in real time. 

Younghoon’s eyes open and he stares back at the white ceiling that greeted him, panic engulfs him as he begins to think that he failed, and was sent back to the angel and the white room that he awoke in before. 

He sits up with sudden energy, and then the pain finally takes in. He shouts in pain and holds his head in both hands, breathing quick as he tries to regain his vision and focus on the furniture that is placed in front of his bed. His screams and shouts catch the attention of nurses outside the room, and as the nurses surround him with quick moves, he is brought back to unconsciousness yet again.

He wakes up a few hours later, and the headache greets him as soon as he opens his eyes, he groans and sits up— slower than last time. Younghoon looks around the room and is surprised to see a nurse there too, organizing some things in the corner. 

“Excuse me?” Younghoon speaks up.

“Yes?” The nurse replies and turns around to face him, “do you need anything?”

“Oh no,” Younghoon shakes his head then clears his throat, “just, how long have I been here?”

“About two weeks,” the nurse replies with a warm and professional smile on his face.

“The two people that were with me that day, are they okay?” Younghoon asks with worry in his voice, hoping nothing that he didn’t want to happen comes out of the nurse’s mouth. 

“Yes, they are,” he responds with the same positive energy. “Fortunately, the accident injured one and almost killed the other, but they are alive, thankfully.”

“Oh,” Younghoon couldn’t explain how relieved he felt at that moment, “thank you so much.”

“It’s no problem.”

Later that day, after laying in his bed and doing nothing but eating, he is notified that he has a visitor. He looks at the door expecting some of his family members to walk in, but is surprised to see Hyunjin walk in with a bouquet of flowers.

“Hi Younghoon,” Hyunjin places the bouquet beside him on the table and sits on the chair beside the bed. “Very good to see you alive and well.”

“Hyunjin,” he stares at her with his mouth open, unsure if he wants to tell her or not. Hyunjin tilts her head and waits for him to talk, and Younghoon talks. “I know that Y/N is my soulmate.”

Her jaw drops and the two of them sit in silence, with Hyunjin confused as ever at what she had just heard.

A week later, Younghoon had regained most control over his body, and was granted permission to visit his friends, and he knew exactly who he would visit first. He stared at the door of your room with contemplated thoughts, then finally pushed the door open and walked in. 

He closed the door behind him and looked at your surprised face, surprised that he would visit you at such a time. Before you could ask him how he was, he cuts you off with a small greeting.

“Hi soulmate,” with simple words that came from his mouth, all hell broke loose in your mind. 

Your jaw dropped at his words, similar to Hyunjin’s reaction from before, making him chuckle quietly. He watched as you looked at him with shock, stunned and dazed to the point where you couldn’t move, unable to think. You couldn’t process or think of a way of how he found out the truth. 

His smile stretched wider, Younghoon thinks to himself and decides that he had lied before, this is definitely his new favorite memory. However, he wonders. He wonders if this favorite memory would ever change, as he knows for a fact that both of your lives have now merged, creating a new future full of memories that include the both of you— together, as you two should be.

Memories that will definitely be more than five this time.

[h2bakugou]

I just can't this idea out of my mind. Imagine any of the teachers in the middle of a lecture and their s/o barges in calling them by nickname and asking about getting the other teachers together only to realize there is a class in session^^

a/n: yes! please i love these ideas, anything where they get essentially embarrassed by their s/o in front of the class-please

all characters are aged up 18+ !!

headcanon: them being interrupted while teaching by their s/o

key: (y/n) - your name / (f/n) - first name / (l/n) - last name / (e/c) - eye color / (h/c) - hair color / (y/q) - your quirk

warnings: fluff, swearing

;cut for length;

»»————-　★　————-««

yagi toshinori/all might

»»————-　★　————-««

It’s been a pretty slow day. All Might was actually teaching a practical lesson rather than some training lesson, something he wasn’t used too.

Even so, you knew he didn’t usually teach practical classes, so when you barged in, calling him ‘Toshi’ like you usually did at home, you didn’t expect to see him turn red and completely fumble over his words.

“Toshi~ Are we inviting everyone over tonight for-” A few giggles and whispers float through the air toward your ears and your eyes catch the gaze of class 1-A’s hero course students, all staring at you, who had mysteriously just interrupted their class calling their teacher by some nickname.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry! I’ll come back-”

“Are you All Might’s significant other?!” Someone shouts from the class. You can’t help but giggle as Toshi guides you sweetly toward the door.

“I’ll be just a minute, I apologize.” All Might bows before the class before taking a brief second outside with you.

“I’m so sorry about that!” You apologize yourself, feeling bad for interrupting his class.

“It’s alright. We’re still good for tonight if you’d like, I’ll pick up some wine from the store-”

“I’ll take care of all that, you just bring your cute self home tonight.” You wink, sending him back inside with a blazing blush spread across his face.

“All Might you didn’t tell us you had-”

“Let’s focus on our lesson again please.” Toshi tries to distract the class from what happened, but they all remember.

And when they see you again, on a whim, giving Toshi, or as they know him, All Might, a kiss on his cheek, they have immediate blackmail.

Kaminari will call him Toshi on occasion kinda like how he calls Bakugou Kacchan.

»»————-　★　————-««

shota aizawa/eraserhead

»»————-　★　————-««

ur his lil kitten

But what is he to you? 

Sho Sho.

When you called him that, the first few times he hated it. He would ask for you to call him anything else, but hearing you call him by his last name felt too formal, and just his first name alone was still so odd.

There were circumstances where Shota was preferred, but when it was just the two of you lounging around in bed, he grew to like Sho Sho.

Now, you had thought the class was out to lunch, it was almost one in the afternoon. 

So when you saw Aizawa standing by the podium lazily reading over some papers, you just marched in, ready to ask about the plans for later.

“Sho Sho...are you coming over tonight, I picked some new horror movies out and-”

“(Y/n). My class is in session.” His words cut through yours quickly and sharply. His tone was cold but extremely sexy.

Maybe he should scold you more often *eyeroll emoji x3*

“Oh my gosh.” You quickly turn and see the class, a few snickering and repeating your nickname ‘Sho Sho’ to their peers.

“I’m so sorry about this Sho-Shouta!” You quickly correct yourself and stumble backward out the door you came in, waving to Aizawa before he sighed.

“Give me a minute. Finish your work.” He said before stepping outside.

“Next time just knock.” Aizawa glanced down the halls making sure you were alone for a few seconds.

“I will, sorry I was just so excited to see you and surprise you and ask you about tonight-”

His lips on yours shut you up again, and you couldn’t protest. Kissing him back until he pulled away, he patted your shoulder.

“I’ll be over as soon as I can tonight.” Aizawa nodded back toward his class.

“I’ve got a class to teach now. Go before I make you work with them.”

»»————-　★　————-««

hizashi yamada/present mic

»»————-　★　————-««

Out of all of them, he probably wouldn’t mind.

So you accidentally waltz into his room, but there’s one big difference.

You couldn’t be any quieter.

“Zashi?” You speak softly. It takes you a good solid three or four tries to get his attention from his desk.

“Zashi!” You shout finally. He looks up and a smile lights up on his lips. He’s jumping over his desk, practically forgetting the class he’s supposedly administering a literature test too. But Kaminari certainly doesn’t mind eavesdropping, and neither does Mina, Jiro, Sero, Kirishima, and a few others who want to know just who you are to their teacher.

Even Bakugou’s turned an ear toward your conversation. But he was done with his work anyway.

“Hey there darlin’!” Present Mic tries not to be too loud, but we all know that might be physically impossible. He seems to have forgotten all about his class until he hears a few whistles from his students.

“Zashi! You have a class?!” You exclaim, quickly dragging him out, leaving him to apologize for his short leave.

“Sorry about that. I just wanted to double check that we were still on for tonight, I didn’t know you were in the middle of teaching!” You shook your head.

“It’s alright! But we’re still solid for tonight, don’t you worry about it, they’ll be alright. Just a test anyway-”

“They were taking a test!?” You felt terrible now, interrupting at such an important time.

Hizashi places a quick kiss to your lips, silencing you before giving you a reassuring smile.

“Just get home safe and I’ll see you there. You still wanted me to drag Shota along too?” He asks, having planned for the three of you to have some drinks and maybe play a board game or two over dinner.

“Yup! Now get back to teaching Zashi!”

»»————-　★　————-««

masterlist

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 306: the beginning of the WHAT

Previously on BnHA: Nana and the Gang were all, “hey Deku, we can read your thoughts and feelings so we should already know the answer to this, but for some reason we want to quiz you on whether or not you’d be down to kill Shigaraki Tomura.” Deku was all, “um okay, well tbh, probably not seeing as Saving People has been my entire thing since literally the start of the series.” The Vestiges were all, “yes that makes perfect sense and again we already knew that, but well, good for you buddy and I’m glad we had this talk. Anyway I guess we should ask these two cryptic fuckers in the corner to finally turn around now before we run out of -- ” and then the chapter ended. Because OF COURSE IT DID.

Today on BnHA: Horikoshi is all “YOU DON’T NEED TO KNOW WHAT HAPPENS NEXT, WOULDN’T IT BE SO MUCH BETTER IF I GAVE YOU A CONFUSING CHAPTER WHERE EVERYONE FINALLY LEARNS ABOUT OFA, AND GOES BACK TO THE DORMS, AND THEN THE CHAPTER ENDS WITH DEPRESSED NOMAD DEKU STANDING ON A PRECIPICE WITH GRAN TORINO’S TATTERED CAPE FLOWING IN THE WIND.” Everyone is all, “???????????” Horikoshi is all, “also the parents are moving to the U.A. campus, and Jeanist’s neck is two and a half feet long, for everyone that was wondering.” Everyone is all, “WHERE ARE KACCHAN AND TODOROKI AND FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, WHO ARE THE SECOND AND THIRD USERS”, and Horikoshi is all, “:)” and fades away into nothingness like the fucking fae he is. Like a fucking imp who’s kept his end of the cursed bargain. What, the, fuck.

okay guys, so after the longest Thursday of my fucking life, during which I was secretly hoping that my spoiler containment net would be somehow be breached, inadvertently exposing me to theta spoiler radiation, so that I could be all “oh no... spoilers... there’s nothing I can do... I have no choice but to look” (which sadly did not happen), it is finally Friday and the chapter is finally out. so I’ve got my clown kit at the ready and other self-deprecating memes on standby, and I’m ready to go. and I should note that I’m also ready for Horikoshi to pull some absolute bullshit and be like, “oh you know what, we haven’t checked in with Rat Principal in a while have we” and spend the entire chapter on nonsense like that. I’M READY FOR FUCKING ANYTHING so bring it

(ETA: it would be nice if this man wouldn’t call my bluff every now and again.)

oh, right, we were due a color page! wow look at this

isn’t this supposed to be the future?? what’s with all of these staticky CRT TVs

anyway, so! is this the first time we’ve seen Tomura’s stylish finger prosthetic glove thingy in color?? because I didn’t expect it to be red. also, at some point you just have to give in and change your pants into cutoffs or something, Tomura. start a new trend of stylish villain capris

meanwhile Deku is dressed like he’s going on a journey into the desert to find a mystical oasis. actually this cape looks a lot like Gran Torino’s. I have to go back and see if Gran’s is all raggedy like this

(ETA: it wasn’t before but APPARENTLY IT IS NOW. I also forgot that Horikoshi had showed it sitting on a side table in the hospital a few chapters ago.)

lastly, AFO looks like someone’s thumb after they’ve been washing dishes for twenty minutes. you are just the ugliest dude in history, and as always, fuck you

HAHAHA SOB I KNEW IT

oh, Twowy McTwoface is finally starting to turn around? better CUT BACK TO DEKU’S HOSPITAL ROOM THEN. wouldn’t want to accidentally ANSWER ANY QUESTIONS or SOLVE ANY MYSTERIES, god forbid

well, whatever. whatever!! anyway so now someone’s knocking at the door. I say “someone” but we all know it’s Hawks

yep

they were actually standing outside the door for a while hoping they’d overhear another juicy plot conversation, but no such luck this time

lmaooo Jeanist wtf

acting all embarrassed, but you’re really just as curious as Hawks is. making him do all the dirty work for you huh

ARE YOU SERIOUS THIS IS AN INJUSTICE

so like two seconds after Katsuki gets dragged away you open the door for the rest of them!! well, fine!! I really want it to be a more private/personal moment between the two of them anyway so let the other kids check in on Deku first then

and in the meantime, time to see Hawks put the thumbscrews to All Might’s resolve lol

I wonder how much of it Hawks has already put together in the last five minutes. One for All is something connected to All for One that Tomura seems to want. Tomura was apparently targeting Deku. that’s more than enough to make a few deductions right there. I wonder how much Hawks knows about Deku’s quirk. he did watch the sports festival, and he ran into the kids interning under Endeavor that one time

okay well maybe he hasn’t put the rest of it together just yet, but Hawks is making a pretty reasonable pitch here to All Might

also this is a pretty spectacular view. is this a hospital or a hotel??

AHLKJLKJLKJ ARE YOU SERIOUSLY GOING TO TELL THEM

OH MY GOD HE IS?!?!

JUST LIKE WE ALL EXPECTED, THE NEXT TWO PEOPLE TO LEARN THE TRUTH ABOUT OFA ARE GOING TO BE HAWKS, AND BEST FUCKING JEANIST

-- LFKLKKLDK ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS. ARE YOU --

( •̀_•́ )

[sitting cross-legged on the ground pulling up little clumps of grass and letting them fall from my fingers one by one] yeah. sure. okay. fine. sure

-- OKAY, NO. NUH-UH. NO

everybody better hold tight cuz I’m about to pick up this whole chapter and yeet it into the ocean like a fucking frisbee lol

HORIKOSHI I DON’T CARE ABOUT THESE PEOPLE SITTING HERE WATCHING TV WTF

-- OH

well okay then. proceed. though lord help me if they’re about to reveal the secret of OFA to the whole fucking world skdkj

oh snap

well, there it is. pretty much what I expected, but it’s good to actually get to see this moment with him taking responsibility

though at the same time, thank you Horikoshi for not forcing us to sit through the rest of that

their fucking faces omg. okay but seriously, what nation doesn’t secretly love a good scandal

the Endeavor Pamphlets, part two. thank you for giving the country something to opine about on twitter in these trying times, Enji

so now they’re asking about Hawks and Jeanist but I cannot even focus on anything all of a sudden because what?!

is Jeanist even a real actual human being you guys?! are we sure he’s not three kids sitting on each other’s shoulders?? are you related to that one guy with the really long neck from the Jedi Council?? are you Orochimaru, bro??

so now Hawks is apologizing for the murder of Twice, and for hiding the connection with his dad

the fact that he has to give this serious formal apology and beg forgiveness for the shameful crime of Having An Abusive Father is really something else, though. just. it’s realistic, but I still hate it

moving on now to the one thing he actually does owe the public an explanation for

not to go all “Hawks did nothing wrong” on you guys yet again, but seriously. 100% facts. fandom can (and no doubt will) debate this until the end of time, but if Twice had gotten away they wouldn’t be having this press conference right now because there wouldn’t be any heroes left to give one. anyways though, I’ve already said more than enough about that in previous posts

so now some severe-looking lady with the weirdest fingers I’ve ever seen is saying that her mother was injured during Machia’s rampage

and she’s basically all “a fuck lot of good ‘I’m sorry’ does us all about now.” true true

wow she’s really getting fired up

and now Enji is basically saying that he understands that an apology isn’t enough, and what they really need now are solutions. okay, well! SO THEN WHAT IS THE PLAN THEN

hmmfsdgh

this eloquent PEZ dispenser makes a good point you guys

wait, hold up

CERTAIN citizens?? um excuse me, what??

ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh shit

holy shit. well, this will go over well

okay! so this tells me a number of things, though

basically the minute that Hawks learned about One for All, he realized that anyone connected to Deku (e.g. Inko) would be a target for AFO. AFO wants OFA, meaning AFO wants Deku, and one of the easiest ways to get to Deku would be to target his family

Hawks therefore realized that Inko needed to be placed into protective custody

but the fact that ALL of the hero course students’ families (and is it only the U.A. hero course, or all of the hero course students across the country?) are being given protection tells me that Hawks and co. don’t want to single Deku out as being important. so then it looks like they’re not going to tell everyone about OFA (or at least not the public. which, good). so rather than drawing suspicion by saying “we’ve got to protect everyone connected with this one kid”, they’re making it seem like all the U.A. kids’ families are getting this treatment

but since the heroes are now spread so thin, they can’t just send a protective detail to each and every family, so they’re bringing all of the families to the same place instead to better keep an eye on them

so that’s all well and good, and a very smart move. except that idk how all of this is going to go over with the general public, all of whom are probably feeling unsafe at the moment, and who will probably see this as preferential treatment -- basically just the heroes looking after their own and leaving everyone else to fend for themselves

(ETA: okay so @hanashimas​’ translation clarifies that U.A. is offering their services as an evacuation shelter for everyone who wants it, not just the families of the U.A. students. that’s much more appropriate so I withdraw my previous “wtf” reaction lol.)

anyway though here’s Mitsuki and Inko

can we take this as confirmation that the two of them really are friends? that’s one piece of fanon that I’ve always hoped was true, so I’m gonna go ahead and say it’s confirmed

(ETA: also this means that Hagakure’s parents (or maybe “parents” in quotation marks) will supposedly be moving in as well. sure am curious as to how that’s going to go.)

now someone in the press crowd is asking whether U.A. can provide adequate security, which is honestly the LAST thing I expected these people would be outraged about lol. shows what I know I guess

(ETA: again though, this makes sense if the “certain civilians” thing was just a translation error.)

LMAO DAMMIT ENJI

YOU CAN’T JUST ALWAYS PULL THE “JUST WATCH ME” TRICK AND EXPECT IT TO SHUT DOWN THE CONVERSATION EVERY DAMN TIME YOU ASSHOLE

-- OH MY GOD RED ALERT

TIME TO ANALYZE THIS BECAUSE OMG

WASH CAN’T BELIEVE HIS FAMILY GROUP CHAT IS STILL SENDING HIM FUCKING MEMES AT A TIME LIKE THIS. HE DOESN’T GIVE A FUCK IF THE DABI DANCE IS TRENDING ON TIKTOK, MOM!!

FOR A MINUTE I THOUGHT MT. LADY WAS HOLDING MIDNIGHT’S TORN-UP MASK, AND BY THE TIME I REALIZED THAT’S ACTUALLY HER MASK AND NOT MIDNIGHT’S, I HAD ALREADY CONSTRUCTED AN ELABORATE HEADCANON IN WHICH MT. LADY AND MIDNIGHT WERE SECRETLY DATING BUT HADN’T COME OUT TO ANYONE YET, AND THEN TRAGEDY STRUCK, AND NOW MT. LADY IS GETTING READY TO SET OUT TO SEEK VENGEANCE. AND WELL, NOW THAT THIS HEADCANON EXISTS IN THE WORLD, I’M NOT SURE IF I’M READY TO GET RID OF IT

MIRKO HAS GOTTEN HERSELF A PROSTHETIC (ROBOT??!) ARM, NOTHING ELSE THAT’S HAPPENING IN THIS CHAPTER IS EVEN SLIGHTLY IMPORTANT!!! HELLO!!!!!

AIZAWA WITH THE EYEPATCH GOOD LORD. THE WORLD ISN’T READY. HE LOOKS LIKE HE HASN’T SLEPT IN NINETY-EIGHT YEARS, BUT SOMEHOW HE MAKES IT INTO THE HOTTEST THING EVER AS PER USUAL

WHO THE FUCK IS THIS FUCKING GUY. ARE WE SUPPOSED TO KNOW HIM? IS THIS KAMUI?? WAS THAT THING WHICH I ALWAYS ASSUMED WAS HIS HAIR ACTUALLY A HELMET OR SOMETHING WHAT

LOL AND MEANWHILE

you tell me, Dabi! weren’t you the one who said that wouldn’t be enough to kill him? what even is your endgame here. I’m starting to worry about the villain brain cell supply you guys. I feel like Compress took most of them with him when he left

OH??

“when asked about One for All, Endeavor fucking lied through his teeth.” well, well, well

SLKDFJLSKGDJLKLKGJL THE DORMS

( ⁰ ⌂ ⁰ )

SLDKJFLKJWLKJLK

WLKDJSLKJFWKELKSDJLKHGLK

HDSMFLKGKL:GDSELK

OCHAKO’S HAND IS SHAKING OH MY GOD

THERE’S YOUR KAMINARI, EVERYONE!!

RHA’S SCANLATION TEAM REALLY THREW DEKU’S HANDWRITING UNDER THE BUS HERE HUH

HE TOLD EVERYONE!?

WHY THE FUCK IS HE WRITING IT AS A LETTER

(ETA: 9. also if he really wrote every kid in his class then that means the U.A. traitor -- or Hagakure as we like to call her around these parts -- also knows about OFA, and knows that Deku has run the fuck off and isn’t at U.A. anymore. so that’s just great!)

OH HELL NO

the hell does that mean, you must leave. leave to go where. son you are not up and leaving to go power up and lead us all into a timeskip. and I swear to GOD, if you left Kacchan too...!!

MY GOD I CAN’T PROPERLY ABSORB ALL OF THESE OCHAKO FEELS RIGHT NOW BECAUSE I’M TOO TERRIFIED TO SCROLL TO THE LAST FUCKING PAGE, FUCK

I JUST GOTTA DO IT. I JUST GOTTA SUCK IT UP AND DO IT. FUCK

FUCK

WHAT. THE. FUCK

y’all I’m not even gonna waste your time with more keysmashing, JUST ASSUME THAT I AM DOING IT NONSTOP, FOREVER. and let’s just jump RIGHT IN HERE

okay so here I thought that All Might and co. had taken him away somewhere to train, but that is CLEARLY not what’s going on here. this kid is standing here in his Apocalypse Aesthetic hero costume which has CLEARLY seen better days, with Gran Torino’s cloak (GUESS THAT EXPLAINS THAT, THEN?? SO DID GRAN FUCKING DIE EXCUSE ME WTF), and a fucking backpack. this little green idiot has RUN AWAY FROM HOME. this is the absolute LAST THING ON EARTH I ever expected to happen so PARDON ME WHILE I SCREAM CONFUSEDLY INTO THE VOID

he does not look okay. you guys he doesn’t look okay at ALL. he has NEVER looked like this. this isn’t just a “I’m sad because I’m leaving all my friends behind” kind of look on his face, or even just a “Gran Torino died maybe and I’m still having emotions over it” look. this is an EXHAUSTED, dead look in his eyes. something terrible has happened

WHAT HAPPENED TO YOUR ARMS DEKU. THE PEOPLE NEED TO KNOW WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING DOWN WITH YOUR ARMS GODDAMMIT

love how this random building is just straight up collapsing, like that’s just a normal thing that happens every day now. lovely

APRIL MEANS IT’S NOW FULL ON SCHEDULED ALL-MIGHT-DYING-HOURS, BUT LET’S COMPLETELY IGNORE THAT THOUGH BECAUSE FUCK THAT NOISE

“THE SECOND USER? WHO KNOWS? CERTAINLY NOT ME” HORIKOSHI I SWEAR TO GOD

“BAKUGOU? NEVER HEARD OF HIM!” HORIKOSHI PLEASE

WHERE. IS. KACCHAN

did he go with Deku?? did he get a chance to talk to him before he left?? did he get his own private letter which he read and then promptly blew up in a fit of panicked rage?? is he going to go after him?? DOES HORIKOSHI KNOW WHAT HE’S DOING TO ME RIGHT NOW?? OF COURSE HE DOES, DON’T BOTHER ANSWERING THAT

omg. though actually the fact that we’ve already jumped a few weeks forward makes me hopeful that there won’t actually be another timeskip, or at least not much of one. I’m sure that’ll be the big debate of the week, but I don’t think we can jump too far forward here. for starters because of that All Might prophecy I mentioned. and also because TomurAFO isn’t just going to wait around for months. and also because I’m 100% sure that Deku’s running-away backpack is just filled ENTIRELY WITH NOTEBOOKS and this asshole cannot possibly survive more than 3 days on his own. UNLESS SOMEONE COMES TO HELP HIM THAT IS. OR SOMEONES, EVEN. OMG. omg omg omg. fuck this chapter lmao

[tiffdawg]

Chaste | A Din Djarin x Reader Fic

Gif: @bestintheparsec​

Pairing: Din Djarin/ The Mandalorian x Reader (fem; no y/n)

Word Count: 2.1k

Rating: E | Warnings: NSFW - explicit sexual content, heavy petting, mutual masturbation, creampie, dity talk featuring Din’s bedroom voice. 18+ only.

A/N: Thank you to everyone who voted in my little poll yesterday! And thank you to @huliabitch​ for encouraging me to write this. This is just something I wrote in between final papers. I don’t want to try to fit it into the current timeline so let’s just say this is sometime in the future well after Din decides to keep the kid. No spoilers for season two. No backstory, no plot; just smut. We might need that to cope depending on how the season finale goes tomorrow...

Read on AO3

My Masterlist

… . …

Chaste

Unsurprisingly, Din woke up hard. Again.

Your semi-conscious brain registered his erection pressing against even before you’d opened your eyes that morning. It sent a rush of heat straight to your core. Just as it had every morning for the past week. And despite the early hour, you knew he was awake. Gentle fingertips traced abstract shapes along your side where your shirt had bunched up in your sleep. His dizzyingly light touch sent chills across your skin, but at your contented hum, his hand slipped under the hemline.

In his tender explorations he found your breast. You shifted against him, rubbing your thighs together in a pathetic relieve the mounting pressure building within you. He groaned behind you. His fingers circled your nipple before pinching the now stiff peak. You gasped at the electric mix of pain and pleasure.

“I knew you weren’t sleeping,” Din rasped, voice still hoarse from sleeping, as he pulled you back tighter against his chest, calloused hand still cupping your tit.

“You started it,” you mumbled back. Your eyes blinked open as you looked over your shoulder at him to find him lazily smirking at you. “Good morning, my love.” 

“Morning, cyar’ika,” he greeted before touching his lips to yours.

What was supposed to be a chaste kiss before the two of you reluctantly roused yourselves from bed to start the day, quickly became heated. Your lips slid against his and your tongues urgently explored each other’s mouths, seeking the familiar pleasure you’d been denying each other. Din deepened the kiss and your body yielded to his as he rolled you onto your back. You carded your fingers through his dark locks, pulling ever so slightly and eliciting quiet gasps from your partner.

Moving without thinking, your legs wrapped around his waist and you ground up against him, searching for even the slightest hint of friction where you needed it most. Spurred on by your actions, Din reached around you, his rough hand grabbing your ass to hold you in place as rolled his hips in time with yours. A matching pair of sighs resounded throughout the small room at the hint of relief.

But it still wasn’t enough. Not when you wanted each other this badly.

“Whose bright idea was it not to have sex again until we’re married?” Din asked in between messy kisses.

“Mine,” you admitted begrudgingly.

... . ...

“Will you marry me?”

Din’s words, delivered softly and without preamble, pierced your heart even before you could process the simple sentence. You flicked on your ship’s autopilot, letting your old astromech take over, and turned to him. You found him watching you carefully.

You paused to admire him and the little foundling sleeping against his chest, needing to remember everything about that moment for as long as you lived. You didn’t have to think about your answer; the two of them had stolen your heart years ago. “Yes,” you replied easily with a smile, “of course I will.” 

Din beamed at you. You crossed the small cabin to perch on the armrest of his seat. “I was hoping you’d say that,” he quipped as he leaned in to kiss you, careful not to disturb the baby.

“I was wondering if you were ever going to ask.”

“I know. You’ve been patient. That’s not like you,” he teased.

“Shut up before I change my mind,” you threatened playfully even as you pressed a kiss to his temple. “How exactly does a Mandalorian marry?”

“The riduurok is a simple exchange of vows. We can...” –he swallowed hard­– ��we can do it right now.”

“Now?” you exclaimed. You grimaced as the baby stirred. Din adjusted his blanket and he settled down. He turned back to you with a raised brow.

You’d been through so much together. Loved each other for so long. Really, marriage vows were just a formality. Nothing would change. But it didn’t feel quite right. Something was missing.

“On my homeworld a marriage is something to celebrate. It’s kind of a big deal.”

“What did you have in mind?”

“I­ haven’t been back in years but I always imagined getting married at home and celebrating with my family. At the very least I always thought I’d take you home to meet them first. I guess that’s stupid,” you shook your head, trying to banish the thought. You had bigger priorities.

“No, it’s not,” Din said firmly. “I– I don’t have that. I’m glad that you do.”

“We can still say our vows in private. Just the three of us. But it would mean the world to me to share this with them.”

He nodded thoughtfully. “Then we’ll go as soon as we can.”

“Thank you,” you said around a smile before eagerly sealing your mouth to his.

He made a happy sound before speaking conspiratorially against your lips. “Let me put the kid to bed and we’ll start celebrating.” 

A cold heat ran through you at the insinuation. “Shit,” you cursed.

“What’s wrong?”

“How long do you think it’ll be before we can go to my planet?” 

Din shrugged. “It’ll be at least a month before we can make it to the Tashtor Sector. Why?”

“Well,” you started hesitantly, “it’s tradition for couples not to have sex once a marriage promise is made. Not until the wedding night.”

Din’s head hit the back of his seat as a long exhalation escaped him. “Anything else I should know about?” he grumbled.

“Nope,” you chirped, stifling a laugh. “I mean there’s a whole bunch of other stuff, but that’s the only thing that’s actually important.”

“Of course it is,” he grumbled with a shake of his head as he leaned forward. Except he paused just before his lips touched yours. “Am I still allowed to kiss you?”

“Yes,” you laughed. His mouth matched with yours and when you parted, he was smiling again. He rested his forehead against yours, an unbroken habit from the early days of your relationship, and you felt the weight of your new situation settle between the two of you. “Think you can last that long?” you teased. 

“Can you?” he challenged with a tilt of his head.

“You couldn’t go a whole month without this pussy,” you whispered, hoping to get a rise out of him.

“I’m a Mandalorian.” He said it stoically as if that was an explanation in itself. “You’ll be begging for my cock by the end of the week, cyar’ika. Just like you were last night.” 

“We’ll see about that, Mandalorian.”

... . ...

It had seemed like a good idea at the time. And a month seemed perfectly reasonable. You were wrong. It was supposed to make the night of your marriage special, but so far all it was doing was frustrating the hell out of both of you. Every night you slept next to him unable to touch him like this was fucking torture. You trailed hot, open-mouthed kisses down his neck in silent apology.

“How the fuck are we supposed to wait two more weeks?” He asked though heavy breaths, not expecting an answer. Normally, you were the wild spitfire that countered his cool demeanor, but at that moment – cheeks flushed, chest heaving, hair mussed – he looked absolutely wrecked. “I wanna bury my cock in you right now.” 

“I know you do,” you panted. “I want you inside me. Want you to fill me with your cum so bad.”

“Yeah?” He fumbled with your shirt that had twisted around in your sleep before hiking up your sleep shirt. His mouth latched onto your breast so he could kiss and suck and bite your breasts, marking the tender flesh as his own as he continued to rock against you. “You want that?” 

“I miss the way you make me feel so full. The way it drips out of me.” Your cunt clenched around nothing and your teeth sank into your bottom lip as you tried to control your desire. “I need it,” you whined instead.

“I know you do.” He raised his head from your chest to look at you. “Shit, sweetheart, you’re so pretty when you’re desperate for me.”

“Oh, Din,” you mewled, practically on the verge of tears. 

“Are you as wet as I think you are?” He leaned back on his knees to reach a hand between your bodies. He smirked, his brows lifting in amusement, as touched you through your panties. You were drenched. “Take it off.”

“What? What are you–” You placed your hands on his broad shoulders to stop him as he repositioned himself between your legs and covered your body with his. “We shouldn’t–”

“I’m not gonna fuck you,” he said as he pulled his briefs down just enough to release his cock, hard and leaking already leaking. “But I am going to fill you. Just like you need.”

Your chest caved in and a broken, pathetic whimper escaped you at his admission. “Really?” 

“Can I?” he asked, brown eyes practically beseeching you. He was always so polite even in moments like that. Even after all that time together.

Your hold on him softened, hands moving to gently cradle his face. “Please, Din.”

He helped you strip. As soon as you were exposed to him, his thick fingers teased your folds, coating them in your wetness, before wrapping around his length. His tongue darted out to wet his lips. “Ready?”

You nodded and he notched the tip of his dick at your entrance. He started pumping himself, using your slick to lubricate himself.

“Oh, fuck!” you cried when you realized what he was going to do.

The feeling of his hand moving in between your legs as he jerked himself off made your head spin. You felt filthy and you fucking liked it. You arched toward him, hips angled to take more of his dick, but he stopped you.

“No, cyare. Not this time,” he whispered against your cheek. You squeezed his tip as your cunt contracted instead, earning a delirious moan from him. “I missed this pussy.”

You could tell he was close. After weeks of hardly touching each other, it wouldn’t take much. You ran your hands down his bare chest and across his soft sides before gripping his hip, hoping to encourage him and hold in place as he neared his climax.

Eyes squeezed shut and teeth bared, he came with a shout. You felt him cum spurting inside you as he filled you. He continued to stroke himself, drawing out his orgasm as long as he could even as his spend started to leak out.

“Touch yourself for me,” Din demanded gently, placing light kisses on your face. “Wanna watch you cum.” 

He pulled out and leaned back just as your hand replaced him. Watching him watch you sent a fresh wave of arousal to your center. With a devilish smile, you gathered the cum dripping out of you and swirled your fingers around your throbbing clit. Din groaned at the sight. Two strong hands gripped your thighs and spread your legs further as his eyes locked on your cunt.

Every muscle in your body seemed to tighten as you played with yourself, your own climax was right behind his. But just as you were about to cum, Din grabbed your wrist and removed your hand. The noise he made was practically a growl as he leaned down to spit on your pussy.

“Oh fuck, Din!” you shouted, body keening off the bed. When he finally released your hand, you rubbed furiously at your clit, eased by the mix of his cum and saliva.

“That’s it. Cum for me.”

Your vision blacked out before an array of stars burst behind your closed eyes as your orgasm tore through you. Pleasure clouded your mind, but you could hear yourself chanting his name like a prayer.

When you fell back against the bed, Din collapsed half on top of you, his cheek pillowed on your chest. “Fuck, that felt good,” you sighed. You wrapped your arms around him, holding him close as you both caught your breath. “But I think that might be considered cheating.”

“No,” he insisted, “Just... bending the rules a little.” You both laughed and he held you a little tighter. “I can’t wait to marry you.”

“So you can finally fuck me again?”

 “No.” He shook his head. “So I can be your husband.” You felt him smile against your skin. “And so I can finally make love to my wife.”

... . ...

Forever Tags: @leo-moon​ @readsalot73​ @frietiemeloen​ @huliabitch​ @jerusomeeno​ @benedrylcumbersnatch @b0n-chann​ @scapricciatello​ @liadamerondjarin​ @pedropasscals​ @paintballkid711​ @mistermiraclee​ @honeyand-roses​

Story Tags: @softpedropascal​ @mindless--ramblings​ @disgruntledspacedad​

[anonquack]

| Red Reunion |

Alex Quackity x Reader, Oneshot!

Word Count: 7157

Warnings: This contains DSMP LORE spoilers (egg lore) and character death is described (no MCD). Angst to fluff. Read at your own risk. Also; curse words (:

Summary: After some time off the DSMP, you make your return, only to find out everything has changed. The person you care most about is not himself anymore, and you're going to do everything in your power to put a smile back on his face. Bring Quackity back to you, and make up all the time lost.

A lot had changed since you were last here. Some parts had been destroyed due to conflicts, others just did not give off the same approachable feeling they used to. Things around the Dream SMP were very different.

As you walked around, in search for something or someone you recognized, your eyes fell upon Bad. He seemed to be rather busy, chatting up a storm with what looked to be Ant. Finally, some familiar faces!

The feeling of relief that rushed over you after seeing Bad made you act on impulse. Before you knew it, you were standing a few steps away from Ant and Bad.

"Bad!?" You called out. The relief slowly dissipated as you got closer. Bad did not look like himself, and neither did Ant. There was something slightly off about them. But it was too late now, their attention was on you.

"Y/N-?" Bad responded, milky eyes widening slightly, at the sight he hadn't seen in what felt like decades. This was Bad. No doubt. You nodded in response and quickly wrapped him into a hug, not caring to think that the time you two spent apart had also put some space between you two. Ignorant to the idea that things had changed.

You felt the tension running through his body as your arms wrapped around him, and decided to pull away after a few seconds. "Hi." You let out, waving at Ant, who seemed just as surprised to see you here.

"Hi-!" Bad and Ant responded. "What are you doing here?" Ant added, confusion clear in his face. Although it stung slightly, it made sense. It had been too long since you last stepped foot on the SMP. Nobody knew when you'd be back, but now you were finally here.

"I'm..back. I missed you all, but it seems stuff has changed." You said, gently scratching the back of your neck in anticipation of their response. They looked at each other before Bad gave you a grin, gently resting his hand onto your shoulder.

"Nonsense. It's nice to see you again, Y/N. I'm actually glad we bumped into you, so we can formally invite you to the Red Banquet! Ant, Ponk, and I will be hosting it, and we'd love to see you there! Think of it as a welcome back party. I'm sure everyone attending would love to see you again. It really has been so long.."

It was a load of information, and it took a bit to fully process everything, but you slowly nodded your head as he spoke to let him know you were listening.

"Red Banquet?" You said once all information he'd thrown at you had been digested. "What's that all about?" Perhaps it was connected to the red vines you'd seen around certain parts of the SMP a few days ago.

Bad simply shook his head. "Just a party we're having in order to attempt to unite everyone again. I'd really love to see you there! But for now, Ant and I have to go. Promise you'll show up?"

He seemed to be in a rush, but you found it very sweet that he wanted to unite everyone again. Classic BadBoyHalo. That'd probably be nice, especially after hearing the rumors that war took place on these lands during your absence.

"Yes, I'll be there." You nodded, a small smile on your lips. He smiled at that as well, nodding and waving his hand a bit as him and Ant walked away.

"Oh-! And wear Red please!!" He called out before slowly disappearing out of your sights. You nodded even though he couldn't see you, and smiled to yourself once you were all alone.

Maybe things weren't so different. Maybe this Red Banquet would help you reconnect with all your friends, all the people you'd accidentally left behind. It was the perfect time for apologies and reconciliation. The Red Banquet would do just that for you.

-

It was finally the day of the Red Banquet. Although on short notice, you'd managed to find an outfit that fit the dress code, even if just a little. You looked yourself over once more before heading off to the location Bad and Ant had given you.

As you got closer, you started to notice more people, and some familiar faces. It made you happy to see they were okay, but you were also dreading the confrontation.

Would they be angry at you for leaving? Would they even want to see you? Did they even remember you? So many questions were floating around in your head until you spotted a certain person.

Puffy.

She was curiously looking around at everyone too, admiring the wonderful outfits everybody had picked out for today.

Although a bit hesitant at first, you finally made your way over to her. As you got closer, her gaze went towards you.

Her eyebrows raised slightly, perhaps in confusion, followed by her eyes widening when she realized who she was looking at.

"Hi Puffy." You said with a small wave, voice timid and unsure. Her eyes were wide as she took in the sight of you, unable to believe it really was you standing in front of her.

"Y/N-?" She responded, stepping towards you. You nodded and gave another wave. You were cautious since you didn't know if she hated your guts or was just surprised to see you back.

"Oh wow- hi!! It's been so long!" She exclaimed, finally taking all the information in. "I couldn't believe it was really you-!"

You took a few steps towards her and eventually you both enveloped each other into a hug. It felt so nice to see old friends again, and it felt even better knowing there was no resentment towards you.

After pulling away from the hug, you both smiled at each other before she grabbed your arm and began taking you around to greet everybody else.

Everyone was welcoming, more shocked than anything else at the fact you were back. It made the uneasiness in your stomach go away.

But not quite. You hadn't bumped into the person you wanted to see the most. He was nowhere in sight. Knowing that he could be anywhere, that you could bump into him at any second, kept you on edge.

"Uh, Puffy?" You called out to the woman beside you, calmly waiting for the banquet to start. She turned her attention towards you, eyebrows raised slightly to notify you that she was listening. "Do you know if Quackity is going to show up?" You asked, trying your best to hide your anxiousness and replace it with a casual tone.

She seemed to be thinking about it for a bit before shrugging. "I'm not sure. Maybe Bad invited him? I don't see why he wouldn't!" Her response was brief, but it made sense. Bad had said he wanted to make peace with everyone, unite them once and for all. He had to show up. He had to.

-

The Red Banquet was going well. You were currently seated at the table, everyone happily listening to the toasts that were being made, waiting for the moment where they could finally enjoy the soup placed in front of them.

So far, the day had consisted of drinks, music, dancing, and laughs. Everyone seemed to be getting along quite well, and it seemed that Bad's plan of uniting everyone was working.

As pleasant as the night seemed, one thing was still bothering you. He was still nowhere in sight, and you were losing hope of finding him here.

The fear of him not showing up tonight, or perhaps that you two would never cross paths again was threatening to cloud your senses, but today was the day everyone let bygones be bygones. Those fears would have to wait until after you left the Banquet.

For now, you watched in adoration as individuals stood from their seats and began their speeches regarding the bright futures they saw in store for all present. The idea that all conflict, which you hadn't even learned half of, would be forgotten and replaced with nothing but friendship. Their speeches were wonderful and left you in a happy daze.

But the happy daze did not last.

You were staring at your bowl of soup absent-mindedly when a loud scraping of a chair against the floor caught your attention. Your head snapped up, trying to see what was wrong, and immediately you noticed that everyone was up, shocked and reproaching Bad.

You looked around in confusion before noticing the walls of lava closing in on you all. Your eyes scanned the room before finding Bad, Ant, Ponk, and even Hannah in full gear. You couldn't even process what was happening as everybody was shouting at each other.

What in the hell had happened?

The only words registered by you were "sacrifice" and "egg", none of which made sense. Why was Bad doing this? This was not Bad. He was not like this. He was willing to sacrifice the lives of his friends for.. for whatever the Egg was. Was it the vines circling around the SMP? The Red vines circling the very place where the Red Banquet was taking place? What the hell happened while you were gone?

There was nothing you could even do, no one had weapons besides Bad and his group, and suddenly Bad's request for no one to come armed made sense. To the innocent minds, it would appear he just wanted a peaceful banquet. But now it was obvious he wanted no one to have the ability of fighting back against his plans.

It seemed like your time here had come to an end. Bad was going to sacrifice his friends right here and now. No failed attempts to harm the egg were gonna stop them. Nothing was.

Nothing was stopping Bad or Ant from killing in front of everyone. The speeches meant nothing. Foolish meant nothing to them besides a sacrifice to the Egg. You'd never heard Puffy let out such cries and screams. The blood that was dripping onto the stone floor from where Foolish was sacrificed would be something you saw in your nightmares from now on.

It seemed helpless. Everyone was practically lined up, waiting for death to arrive for them.

Until he barged in.

There was no mistaking that voice. There was no mistaking the way his presence took over the room, called for everyone's attention and demanded it stay there. It was him. He was here. He was going to save everyone.

Your eyes were glued to him as he cautiously walked closer to Bad, calling out to him and trying to get the older to come to his senses, get him to stop whatever nonsense he was trying to do tonight.

Part of you felt bad about completely forgetting the betrayal that had taken place tonight, and instead feeling ecstatic that Quackity was here, in the flesh.

The guilt began seeping in as you heard the people around you yelling out their thoughts, heard how pained and tired they sounded in regards to what Bad was doing, and probably because of all they've been through as well.

You escaped your own thoughts once Puffy charged at Ant, and a whole fight broke out between everyone. It was all too much to take in, it was all happening too fast. Ant was dead because of Puffy, Bad and the rest of his group had gotten away, and the rest of the guests were visibly shaken up.

And then there was him, curses leaving his lips, and a harsh scowl on display. It was clear with his facial expressions that he was beating himself up for letting Bad escape. You watched as he gave orders for Purpled to try and follow after Bad, try to get a sense of where he'd gone off to. And then his attention was returned to the guests.

His eyes flitted through the crowd, and you could feel yourself attempting to shrink. The idea of talking to him was nerve-racking, but necessary. He soon began to lead everybody out of the hole Bad had dragged them into. As soon as the bright light of day was visible again, the guests began to break out into cheers. Some crying over the fact that they were scared they'd never get to see this sight again.

As he checked to make sure everyone was okay, you decided it was the perfect time to approach. His back was facing you as you made your way towards him, too busy ensuring everyone made it out to notice the faint footsteps approaching him.

"Quackity?" You called out, feeling your mouth turn dry so quickly, scared of what to say next. You could see his shoulders stiffen, tension rising in the air before he turned around slowly. The look of disbelief and bewilderment in his eyes was something you'd never forget.

Now that he was so close, you took a moment to examine his facial features. This was not the Quackity you remembered. The Quackity you knew had bright, cheerful eyes. He had a cheeky smile on his face, always getting himself into trouble.

No, this Quackity was nothing like that. The bright, cheerful eyes were gone, now replaced by rather dull looking ones, and a scar across one of his eyes. The smile was also gone, lips slightly parted now, words dying on the tip of his tongue at the sight of you. Even his clothes were different. The blue sweater was gone, now replaced by rather formal wear.

A look of pain flashed across his face before quickly disappearing and getting replaced by the same stoic expression from earlier. "Y/N." He stated. Hearing him say your name ignited something within you, but it was nothing like before. A frown quickly took over your features as you struggled to find what to say in return.

"How have you been?" It was so dumb. There were so many better things that could've been said but that's what came out of your mouth at that moment. You watched as he stared before lightly rolling his eyes. "Now's not the time to catch up. I've got shit to do." He stated bluntly. He only maintained eye contact for a few more seconds before he walked away, approaching Technoblade to discuss what you could only assume was related to Bad.

You could hear your heart breaking inside your chest. He definitely hated you, and you couldn't really blame him. You'd left and returned to a broken Quackity. He clearly had gone through some shit, if his scars weren't telling. He was a changed man, and for you to try and waltz back into his life was fucked up. You knew that. But fuck. It hurt way more than you thought it would.

You'd considered what it'd be like, an alternate reality where Quackity hated your guts, and it seemed bad. But it was nothing quite compared to the real thing. This was your reality now.

You watched as he walked off, a dumbfounded yet hurt look on your face. You felt the sting in the back of your eyes as you tried holding it in until later. You were biting down on the inside of your cheek, eyes glued to his back before you turned, deciding to head back to what you deemed your home for now.

This Red Banquet had gone quite the opposite of what you expected, and had ended with your heart aching because the only person you truly cared about now despised you. You couldn't wait to get home and crawl into bed.

—

It'd been a week or two since the incident. Tension was still high, but everyone was making an effort to try and let things go back to normal.

You were too. You couldn't stay in bed forever, as pleasant as that seemed, so that meant going out and about.

This didn't necessarily mean productivity. You needed time to let your heart and mind heal, so a stroll around the SMP would do for now.

You took your time, quietly admiring the bright and colorful flowers that decorated certain areas, the beautiful builds that were built in your absence, and how the SMP was still bustling even after such incidents.

Your gaze followed your feet, and the way the grass crunched and bent under your shoes. Your gaze jumped from flower to flower, different colors catching your attention. Different.. people. A person.

Quackity.

Shame and fear took over your body as you looked at him from afar. After your last exchange, you were hyper aware on the fact he did not wish to speak to you anymore. And yet your paths had somehow crossed again.

You felt yourself let out a breath you didn't even know you'd been holding in. Approaching him again would be a grave mistake. But it could be a mistake you dwell on after. Your mind was going so fast as you considered the pros and cons of approaching him at this very moment.

It was the fear of 'What If' that made you do it. You let out another shaky breath, trying to calm yourself before approaching.

"Quackity!" You called out as you made your way over to him. He was currently slumped over, eyes fixated on the ground, face hidden from your view.

He looked torn, as if life had taken every single bit of happiness from him. As you got closer, you came to a halt, not wanting to alert him.

"Quackity?" You called out again, the nerves slowly reappearing and engulfing you with concern.

Once he looked up, his brown eyes met yours, and you were stunned at the beauty of them. The sunlight shone so beautifully and accentuated the light and dark browns that made up his irises.

Your gaze moved from his eyes to the scar that now rested on said eyes. Your gaze softened, a small frown on your lips at the realization that he'd probably been through so much these last few months.

"What happened?" You asked, hands acting on instinct, reaching out for his face. At that moment, you witnessed him put space between you two, a bewildered look in his eyes. You felt your heart break into smithereens.

"Y/N-?" He said, the shock clear in his tone. The reaction seemed to be instinctual, not because it was you. You nodded your head fervently, before responding softly, "Yes, it's me. Hi." You saw his expression soften, but his walls quickly came back up.

"Hey." He stated coldly, eyes averting in order to avoid eye contact. You looked around for a bit, unsure of what to do before sitting down a few feet away from him in order to ensure he didn't feel uncomfortable with your presence.

When he saw that you weren't leaving, his eyes narrowed and looked over at you. When you made eye contact again, you gave him a small smile before speaking again. "Are you alright..? What... what happened-? With everything and everyone."

He rolled his eyes at the question, deciding to give short and dry answers. "A lot has happened." Your shoulders slumped slightly, not really knowing what else you expected. Certainly not a hug and a sermon explaining all events, but not this.

"I'm‐" you paused, eyes looking down at the grass and carefully ripping some of it off as you wondered how to phrase it. "I'm really sorry for leaving, Quackity. I.. I didn't think so much would happen in my absence. Especially to you." You looked up, eyes instinctively going to stare at the scar that now rested on his face.

His brown eyes met yours, examining you and taking in the apology. There was silence for a moment before he let out a shaky sigh. "You don't know half the shit I went through. Without you here." A pang of guilt struck your chest as he averted his eyes from you.

"I know, I know. I'm so sorry for leaving you, Quackity. I wouldn't have if I knew they'd.. that.. that this would happen." You stumbled on your words, anxiousness and guilt eating at you as you saw his expressions morph between pain, anger, and sadness.

He remained silent for a bit before shaking his head, "Well, can't really change the past, can we? What's done is done." His voice sounded stoic, face now void of any expression. You opened your mouth to respond but quickly closed it as you watched him begin to stand up.

A slight panic ran through you as you stumbled onto your feet as well. Too slow, though, Quackity was already on his way to who knows where. You were left to stare at his back once again.

There was a warmth spreading through your chest that you hadn't acknowledged until now. He had spoken to you, he'd taken the time to listen to what you had to say rather than shutting you out completely like before. Was this progress?

Didn't matter, because that's exactly what you were gonna call it. And this certainly wasn't the last he'd be seeing of you.

–

"Where has he been staying?" You asked as you took a sip of the drink offered to you by Puffy.

"None of us are really sure. He kind of dropped off the face of the SMP after Karl and the rest of 'em left." She was once again speaking of this as if it was the most casual of topics. Known to everybody but you. That was probably true.

Karl and the rest of them. Was that referring to Sapnap and George? That meant he didn't tag along with them, which told that he'd been off on his own. Had he really been alone this whole time?

You'd left, thinking he'd be okay with his friends. Only for him to be left with battle scars, and those very friends being the ones to leave him as well. A small frown etched itself onto your face as you thought of how difficult it must've been. Just imagining him out there on his own was enough to make your skin crawl and your heart shatter. It wasn't right at all.

"So you don't know where he's staying? He just made an appearance at Bad's banquet by chance?"

She took a moment to think before responding, "Not sure exactly where he lives, but I know the general area of where he hangs out. Seen him there multiple times." She paused and looked you up and down before giving a pitiful look. "Do you plan on continuing to seek him out?"

You nodded your head without hesitation. "Yes. I missed him terribly and just hearing what's happened, and seeing how it left him.. I want to fix things with him." There was a determined look on your face, huge contrast to the worried look Puffy was now giving you.

It went unnoticed by you though, too focused on getting Quackity to smile again. To hand him the happiness he deserves.

–

The third time your paths crossed was near the area you'd last found him. He was sharpening his sword, too preoccupied to notice you approaching again. This time, you alerted him of your presence at a safe distance, not wanting to accidentally get stabbed.

His eyes met yours, full of surprise before going stoic again. You smiled and waved lightly as you approached. You took a seat near him once again, basking in the silence, no other greeting given by either of you.

To you, this was progress. He wasn't necessarily welcoming you with open arms, but he wasn't telling you to fuck off either. You busied yourself with the grass beneath you, gently ripping out some grass blades, and occasionally glancing towards him.

The glances were mutual, you'd catch him glancing towards you every once in a while, eyes quickly averting after getting caught. A small smile appeared on your lips as you continued looking around.

It wasn't long before you realized it was getting dark. His attention was still on the sword, glances still happening here and there, as if the words would die on his tongue if he dared to break the silence. This gave you the confidence to speak again.

"It's getting dark. How much longer will you be out here?" You tilted your head slightly, eyes focused on him. His eyes met yours for a split second, probably startled by your voice.

He looked down at his sword before looking out at the sky. "Not sure. Almost done with this, so.. maybe until then." His voice sounded heavenly to your ears. This entire afternoon had been spent in peaceful silence, so it was a welcome change.

"Then.. I'll stick around until you're done." You declared, a small smile on your lips as you watched him. He raised a brow before rolling his eyes.

"You don't have to. I don't know why you stuck around this long in the first place." He murmered, eyes focusing back on the sword that rested on his lap.

"Because I wanted to spend time with you." You admitted, voice small.

It was physically difficult to actually voice your thoughts and intentions, especially after realizing it might upset him, no matter how true your words were.

You were unfortunately right.

He looked up, attention no longer on his sword, instead on you. There was a look of disbelief on his face. "Stop." He stated, a tone that told you it was a warning, that he wasn't messing around. But you had to push, take your chances. A gamble, perhaps.

"I mean it." You responded, not missing a beat. The tension slowly rose between you two, eyes not parting from each other. You watched as the peaceful look left his eyes, replaced with pure frustration.

"Just because you're here now doesn't mean it makes up for the shit you did. Being here won't win me back, it won't make me forgive you, so stop wasting your fucking time."

He was pushing you away again. Maybe silence would've lead to a happier end to the day. Maybe you both could've silently parted ways once it got darker, but instead you were sat across from each other, tension rising and hearts beating fast against chests.

"I just‐" you paused, gently biting the inside of your cheek, looking for a way to phrase it, but coming back empty-handed. "I miss you." It was out, he knew now, and your heart was left exposed, bare and fragile. He could break it any second now.

He scoffed, before standing up and carefully putting away his sword. He didn't dare respond, gaze leaving yours and instead focusing on the path to wherever he seemed to call home.

You watched him leave, an activity that you seemed to be doing often recently, before falling onto your back and letting out a groan of frustration. Your hands came to cover your eyes, gently rubbing at them, mentally telling yourself not to cry. It would be okay.

His current attitude would not scare you away. You'd continue trying, show him that you really did care, and weren't planning on leaving again. Maybe he'd see your efforts and consider giving you a second chance, perhaps he wouldn't. You were hoping the first choice was the outcome.

–

Quackity fell onto his bed with a loud thud, hands going to cover his face in frustration. He wasn't sure what to do, but he did feel a bit bad about lashing out on you everytime you'd interacted with him. The first time he'd seen you again, he felt a warmth spread across his chest. He was happy to see you again, but the harsh truth of your absence when he needed you most made the moment bittersweet.

To him, it seemed dumb that you were trying to reconnect with him. Why, after disappearing for so long, and leaving him behind just like how everybody else he cared about had done.

What if he let you back in, and you left again? He didn't think he could handle that pain again. Hearing you say you missed him had been his breaking point. His immediate response was to push as hard as he could, get you to leave before he could get attached again. If he was alone, he wouldn't have to worry about anybody leaving him.

But as he lay in bed, hands shielding him from the bright lights that illuminated the room, he took in the tone of your voice. How small it had sounded when you admitted you missed him. He thought about how you'd approached him three times now, even if he pushed you away. Would you still come back? Even after he basically told you to stop wasting your time with him? He didn't know.

It was far too much thinking for him. At least for tonight. He quietly admired the sharpness of his sword before turning off the lights and deciding to finally get some rest.

–

His questions were answered the next time he was out and about. He'd been on his way to a shop when he caught sight of you sitting at a table with a small bag settled on top. He averted his eyes and continued walking before he heard the sound of your voice, calling out to him.

He was surprised, to say the least. He looked over at you, saw you waving him over, pointing at the bag with a small smile. He hesitated, unsure if he could even face you after what had happened last time, but slowly made his way over anyway.

"Hi." You greeted, soft smile still on your lips as he came closer. "Sit." You gestured to the seat across from your own. You'd been out shopping and had stopped for some snacks along the way. You were resting at the table but luckily caught sight of him and figured this was a chance to talk to him again.

He looked down at the seat before hesitantly sitting down. "Hi." He said back, not nearly as confident as yours had sounded. You signaled at the bag, opening it and showing him the freshly baked pastries you'd picked up not too long ago. "Want one?" You offered.

Simply opening the bag gave out a pleasant smell, and it made it difficult to resist a pastry, even if it meant having to sit with you for a moment. He reached into the bag, taking one before slightly bowing his head. "Thank you." He simply stated, before taking a bite of the pastry.

The sight warmed your heart. It reminded you of the times you'd both share a meal, it could be anywhere, but any food either of you had would be shared with laughs and jokes interrupting each bite. It reminded you of when he didn't have any resentment towards you.

"Is it good?" You asked, and he only gave a small nod, hand covering his mouth in an attempt to chew politely. You smiled at that before letting a small sigh escape your lips. "I'm sorry about last time. It was probably fucked up on my part to suddenly push that on you."

He paused, eyes not leaving his hands as he processed what you'd just said. Were you really apologizing? After he'd been an asshole to you at every encounter. He looked up at you before reaching into the bag again for another pastry, out of habit and familiarity with moments like these back then.

"I'm sorry too." He started, avoiding eye contact. "I was a bit mean, and maybe you didn't really deserve it." His eyes went towards yours, wanting to see a reaction after receiving nothing but silence.

He was met with the sight of a warm smile on your face, he could feel the warmth you were radiating from where he was seated.

"You don't have to apologize to me, Quackity. I understand why you reacted that way. I do wish you'd see I mean the things I say though. Really." He took another bite out of the pastry before slowly nodding, notifying you that he was listening to what you were saying.

This could definitely be counted as progress, right? You were sharing a snack with him, and he'd apologized even if he didn't need to. The thought alone returned the smile to your face as you leaned onto your hand and stared at him quietly.

"What?" He said after a moment, staring back at you. You shrugged, "Just happy to see you again."

His cheeks flushed slightly, perhaps out of embarrassment, not used to your sappy self after months of its absence. His state made you let out a chuckle as you reached over to grab a pastry as well.

You two shared the pastries and a few other snacks you'd bought for some time until he stated he had to go get what he wanted in the first place, before you'd called him over and asked him to sit with you. You nodded and waved him goodbye, telling him it was nice seeing him again, to which he reacted to by averting his eyes and walking away. You smiled to yourself as you watched him leave. Progress.

–

After the reconciliation through pastries, you'd crossed paths with Quackity a few more times, each being less tense than the last.

Days passed where you'd cross paths with each other, and it gave you the opportunity to make conversation, maybe pester him for an hour or two, subtly letting him know that you were here to stay. To which he responded by pushing.

Quackity pushed you away as much as he could at first, but with each passing day it became more and more evident that he was softening up. It was progress. He was getting accustomed to your company again, and he wasn't really pushing you away either.

It had taken a while to get to where you currently were, but you'd do it a million times over just to spend time with him again. To be this close to him, like you used to be.

You were giving him your undivided attention as he spilled what had happened during your absence, and it was taking everything in your power to not immediately wrap your arms around him. Hearing everything he'd been through, how others had treated him, how he got his scars, and how he was left behind.. it was all so, so infuriating. It made you mad at yourself, most of all.

You couldn't help but wonder if things would've been different if you hadn't left. Perhaps you could've fought alongside him, stopped any harm from coming his way. Perhaps you could've provided him with company when he felt so alone, like the world would swallow him whole.

It definitely would've been different if you hadn't left.

But there was no point in dwelling over the past, is what you told yourself. What mattered now was that you were here, sitting across from him as he opened up to you for the first time in so long. He looked so vulnerable, eyes never meeting yours as he spoke of his experiences. You couldn't even begin to imagine how difficult this must be.

When he finished, he finally looked up at you, bottom lip caught between his teeth out of anxiousness and sadness. You scoot closer, noticing him visibly tense and relax, all within a few seconds. Your movements were slow, as to not scare him away.

You lifted your hand towards his face, as you had during one of your first encounters, and slowly moved it closer. "Can I?" You said, voice timid. He gave a small nod, and you gently cupped his face, thumb rubbing gentle circles onto his cheek before softly tracing over the scar. It felt oddly intimate, being this close to him, being able to touch him after so many months of yearning his presence.

You could feel his body tense, not used to anyone doing this in quite some time. But after a bit, his eyes closed and he melted into your hand, letting you gently caress his cheek and his scar. You came closer, body close to his. You could feel the body heat coming off of him, oh how you'd missed the feeling.

The sensation alone threatened to bring tears to your eyes. He was really here, the Quackity you missed and loved. He'd let you back in.

"I'm so sorry, Quackity. So sorry you went through this. I'm here now, and I'm not going anywhere, no matter how hard you try to get rid of me. I'm right here." You reassured, continuing to draw small circles on his cheek with your thumb. His eyes looked up to meet yours, and you could feel your heart stop at the sight of his pretty eyes. He was tearing up too.

You gave him a small smile before wrapping your arms around him. All composure had left you, too preoccupied with comforting the man who'd experienced too much pain and suffering.

Your breath hitched as you felt his arms wrap around you as well, tight. The fear of being abandoned clear with the way his arms held onto you for dear life. Your shoulder felt wet, but you didn't care one bit. This was everything you'd hoped for since you first laid eyes on him again. His company, and his forgiveness. For him to know you'd be here, and wouldn't leave anymore.

After what felt like decades, you finally pulled away, eyeing him over to ensure he was alright before gently cupping his face again. This time with both hands, you wiped away any remaining tears, giving him a small smile to tell him it'd be okay from now on.

He seemed ashamed, perhaps he felt too vulnerable. You lightly directed his gaze back on you before leaning in and placing a small kiss on his cheek where the tear stains had been. You watched as his eyes fluttered shut, an invitation for you to continue. And so you did, placing small kisses all over his face, lips gently ghosting over his scar, giving him the affection he'd yearned for.

This continued for a bit before he let out a shaky sigh. You gave him a worried look, to which he simply shook his head. "It's nothing, just.. taking all of this in." You visibly relaxed at the sight of a small smile on his lips. "I can't believe you're actually here. That you came back and dealt with my shitty attitude just to get back to how we used to be."

"You had your reasons to react that way, please don't blame yourself." You responded calmly, thumb continuing to rub soothing circles onto his cheek. "Plus.. you know I'm not giving up on you, right? No matter how much you try and push me away." You grinned at him, to which he rolled his eyes.

"You're very persistent, I'll give you that." He said, relaxing further into your touch. "I'm.. I'm glad you didn't give up on me."

The grin softened into a small smile. "I could never. How about we head back to your place. You hungry?" To which he only gave a small nod as an answer. You stood, extending your hand for him to grab in order for him to get up.

Once he was up, he didn't let go, and neither did you, which made you beam at him before letting him lead the way back to what he now called home. You both walked hand in hand, no further talking needed. Once you both got there, a small dinner was made, followed by the softest and comfiest cuddles either of you had gotten in a long, long time.

—

Every single moment leading up to this was worth it. You sat in a flower field in the SMP, currently undisturbed by any of the other residents, with Quackity's head resting on your lap. You gently ran your fingers through his hair, fixing any strands that managed to poke out of his beanie after he put it on, and simply enjoying the view.

And that isn't in reference to the flower field. He looked stunning, basking in the sun with the cutest smile on his face, trying to take a nap as you made small conversation here and there, telling him about something meaningless Puffy had told you during one of her visits.

Prior to this very moment, both of you had been enjoying a picnic at this very field you were currently at. And now, you were just enjoying each other's presence. As he rested his head on your lap, you took a moment to look at all the flowers around you two.

There was a poppy nearby, the red on the petals stood out to you. Carefully picking it off its place on the soil, you made sure it was clean before gently tucking it behind his ear. The red stood out wonderfully against his skin and dark black hair.

His eyes soon opened, a confused look etched onto his face as he wondered what you'd just done. His hand reached up to gently pat the spot before stopping completely at the feeling of the flower. A small smile appeared on his lips, before he playfully rolled his eyes. You smiled back at him as he carefully sat up, not wanting the flower to fall off.

"It looks cute on you." You murmered, focused on the way the red looked in his hair. He hummed, bringing your attention back towards him. He was picking a poppy off the ground as well, lazily handing it over to you. Even with his tired smile on his face, he still looked so cute.

You smiled, taking it from his grasp. "Thank you." You quirked up, leaning in and placing a delicate kiss onto his lips, his lips moving perfectly against yours. You pulled away with a content smile before falling back onto the blanket you'd both been sitting on.

He mirrored your actions, falling back as well. You both stared up at the sky for a few moments before his gaze fell back on you. At the feeling of a gaze on you, you turned to look at him as well.

"What?"

"Thank you."

Warmth was radiating within you at that very moment. The person who meant the absolute most to you, the one who'd been through so much, was finally able to smile again. He was able to breathe freely, he was free of all his worries.

Quackity deserved the world, he deserved to feel safe and needed, wanted. And you were more than willing to risk and give everything you could in order to provide that. But for now, cuddles, kisses, and a nap under a bright blue sky would suffice for the both of you.

[ssahotchhner]

like real people do

PART TWO

hi! this is my first criminal minds fic, i haven’t watched the show all the way through in several years and while doing a rewatch discovered that i HAD to write hotch. this will be two parts, here’s the first! let me know your thoughts please, i love talking to my readers (:

words: 5837

pairing: hotch x reader

warnings: usual criminal minds nastiness, rape mention, death, curse words

Everyone knew that SSA Aaron Hotchner has been emotionally unavailable since his divorce, so everyone was that much more surprised when he kissed you at the bar in front of all your colleagues at the BAU. You wouldn’t lie, you had had a crush on Aaron for years now, but you had imagined your hypothetical romance much differently. As it was, Aaron had immediately left the bar in a flurry of embarrassment, murmuring a hurried apology on his way out leaving you to the unabashed teasing of your coworkers that you had pretended to brush off. Now, days later, Aaron still refused to so much as look at you.

“Y/N,” Morgan rolled his chair over to your desk, “I’m dying to know, is Hotch a good kisser?”

You sigh, “Fuck off, Derek.”

“Leave the poor girl alone, Derek,” Rossi says as he passes by, “Don’t you think it’s bad enough Hotch is giving her the silent treatment now?”

You tried to hide the way the tears pricked the back of your eyes at his comment, but you were surrounded by FBI profilers.

Morgan lowered his voice and reach out his hand to touch your arm, “Hey, babygirl, I’m sorry, I was just teasing, maybe you should try talking to Hotch--”

“Talking to me about what?” Aaron had been so quiet walking up on you and your head had been low, so focused on not crying that you hadn’t heard him.

“Nothing.” You say quickly, and as expected he avoids making eye contact, “Do you need something, sir?” You don’t miss the way he flinches at the formality. Good.

“We have a new case.” He says simply and walks away.

Morgan let out a low whistle, “You really hit him with the ‘sir.’” You started to get up from your desk, but Morgan put a hand on your arm again, “Seriously, Y/N, I’m sorry. If you need to talk I’m here.”

You sighed and stood up again, forcing a smile, “There’s nothing to talk about Derek, I’m fine. Now come on.”

“We have a serial rapist in Milwaukee, Wisconsin.” JJ starts immediately as everyone files in. You feel Morgan’s gaze on you the entire time and try not to get frustrated. He’s been like a brother to you since you joined the BAU a few years ago and you know this overprotectiveness was just him being a good friend, but it was bound to drive you nuts. “Victims are all white women ranging from their late teens to early twenties at a local university.”

“Why are we being called in for a rapist on a college campus?” Reid asks, “I don’t mean to be insensitive, but we all know the statistics. There are dozens of serial rapists on college campuses.”

“Because this one is torturing them while he rapes them and leaves them notes leading up to the attacks.” Hotch says as Penelope begins to pull up pictures on the screen of these women. “Slut, whore, bitch, cunt. All carved on their chests.” You do your best to hide the nausea that rises in you as you look at the pictures. Do your job. You remind yourself.

“What do the notes say?” Emily asks.

“They seem like thinly veiled threats,” Reid begins, “They sound romantic at first glance, but if you read closely you can see the context.” 

“He breaks into their dorms when they’re at class or at parties and waits for them to come home and then he holds them at knifepoint so they won’t scream.” Penelope says, trying not to let her voice shake.

“Risky to do in a dorm building and no one’s seen him?” Morgan says.

Rossi ponders this, “That means he must blend in, someone no one would think twice about being inside. A student, an RA, or a university official.”

“University officials don’t normally enter student dorms unless there’s an issue, they’d be more likely to stand out and students would talk about them showing up.” Hotch muses.

“Y/N, you’re awful quiet today,” Emily nudges your elbow, “What do you think?”

You can feel everyone’s eyes on you, but Aaron’s. Still looking at his manila folder as if Emily hadn’t addressed you. As if you didn’t exist. You clear your throat, “I think the RA or student theory makes sense. We should probably interview the RA of the first victim, assuming he’s a man. It would make sense to me that he would start with one of his own students and then begin to branch out. Maybe he thought he could stop, get that release he needed after just one, but the need only grew stronger.”

“Wheels up in thirty, we’ll discuss more on the plane.” Hotch says and stands, walking out of the room without another glance.

“Did something happen last night at the bar?” Emily murmurs, the only member of the team who didn’t make it out the night before, “Hotch is acting really weird around you.”

Derek snickers on the other side of you and you elbow him, “That’s it, I’m going to talk to him.”

Reid winces, “Good luck.”

“It’ll be fine, kid.” Rossi says and squeezes your shoulder as you pass.

You take a long breath before you finally build the courage to walk into Aaron’s office where he’s packing his briefcase. “Sir, can I talk to you for a moment?”

“Can it wait until we’re on the plane, agent?”

Agent. You roll your eyes toward the ceiling, “No, sir, it can’t.” You can’t hide the bite in your words this time. He finally looks at you, really looks at you. You wonder what he sees.

“Close the door.” He says quietly and then sits behind his desk.

You walk slowly to the seat in front of his desk. This time, he watches you. “This is the first time you’ve looked at me all day.”

“I wasn’t aware you were analyzing me.”

“Are you telling me you haven’t been analyzing me all day?”

“Agent, what is this about? We have a plane to catch.”

You stare at him for a few moments longer, “Fine,” You stand, “If you want to pretend nothing happened, I’ll do the same. But if you could at least stop ignoring me, that would be great.”

“Agent--”

“And use my goddamn name, for Christ’s sake.”

He stares at you and you know he hates your emotional outburst and that in turn makes you hate yourself. “Then you stop calling me ‘sir.’” He says quietly.

Your eyes soften for just a moment and then you storm back out of his office nearly plowing over Rossi as you leave. Rossi walks into Aaron’s office to see him rubbing his forehead, “Well that doesn’t look like it went well.”

“I screwed up, Rossi.” 

“Oh, come on Hotch, it was just one kiss. It didn’t mean anything--”

“It did mean something. To me. Maybe not to her.”

Rossi shakes his head, “Then why are you giving her the cold shoulder?”

Hotch sighs, “Because we work together, because she doesn’t feel the same, because she’s the first woman I’ve kissed since Haley. Pick a reason.” Rossi looks like he’s going to interject, but Hotch stands, “We don’t have time for this, Rossi, let’s go.”

Rossi sighs as he watches Aaron walk out of his office and follows after.

***

You’re quiet most of the plane ride, conscious of the looks everyone is giving you as you read the information in the manila folder over and over, trying to be good at your job instead of thinking about your boss.

“When we get off the plane, JJ and Prentiss, you go talk to the victims. Rossi and I will touch base with the police. Morgan, Reid, Y/N, you go talk to anyone you can find at the dorms, see if anyone’s seen anyone suspicious.” You make it a point not to react, but everyone else reacts anyway, watching you carefully. Hotch almost always assigns himself with you. 

“If you guys don’t stop psychoanalyzing me I will eject myself from this plane.” 

Everyone looks away except Aaron and when you meet his eyes, he’s smirking. Those smiles are so rare and you can’t deny how it satisfies you to know you were the reason he did so. You quickly look back down at your work, careful not to reveal anything you’re feeling.

***

“Do you have feelings for Hotch?” Reid asks without preamble when you’re in the car with Derek.

“Spencer!” You exclaim in outrage. Derek just laughs from the driver’s seat.

“What? You both wouldn’t be being so weird about one kiss if it wasn’t something more.”

“Okay, Romeo, remember that she’s armed.” Derek cautioned.

“He’s my boss, Reid. It’s weird because he’s my boss.”

“Well, sure, by definition Hotch is our superior but we all know--” Reid cut himself off when he saw the look Derek was giving him in the rearview mirror, “Yeah, you’re right, it’s weird.” He said quickly.

You sigh and turn to the window and ignore Derek and Spencer the rest of the ride.

***

“So you mean to tell me that ten women have come forward about being raped in their dorms and you told them to consider themselves lucky they weren’t murdered and sent them home without doing a rape kit?” Aaron’s furious. Furious with himself for the previous night and he’s more than happy to take out that anger on the local Milwaukee police department.

“Look, man, we get a lot of he said she said in here, we don’t have the time or the man power to follow up on every one.”

Just then his phone rings. It’s you. He wishes he could ignore the pang that goes through him just from reading your name. “Hotch.” He answers.

“Sir-- I mean, Aaron.” You correct yourself quickly, and then realize you should have called him Hotch, but it’s too late. “They’ve found a body.”

He frowns, “A body? That doesn’t fit his MO.”

You swallow, “Yeah, well, everything else does. He seems to have gotten a little carried away with the carving this time.”

“We’ll be right there.”

You hang up your phone and then turn back to Reid and Morgan who are looking over the crime scene. You sit with Victoria’s, the victim’s, distraught roommate and try to calm her and maybe get some actual information out of her. You don’t hear or see Aaron walk in until he’s already next to you, “Did you get anything from her?”

His closeness makes it hard to focus, “Just regular roommate stuff, she might be more useful once she calms down. I asked if her roommate had a boyfriend or anything like that and she said she was quiet, kept to herself. Boys were out of the question.”

“He’s escalated. Why?”

You shrug, “Could be because we’re here, that might have upset him and he lost control. But it could have been an accident, roommate says Victoria had a heart condition. The stress of the situation might have killed her.”

Hotch nods, “Good work.”

He was trying to be normal, you could tell. And he was trying so hard. “Thank you.” You said softly and then you excused yourself. Everything about him set you on edge and over and over the moment he kissed you plays in your head.

***

You’re both laughing to near snorting while sitting at the bar and Aaron can’t stop watching you, “You have an incredible laugh, you know?” He says softly when you’ve both settled down. “Sometimes when I think this job isn’t worth it, I’ll hear your laugh outside my office and just that sound…” He realizes what he’s saying suddenly and turns his head away from you smiling at his drink now.

“You make it worth it for me too.” You say and his eyes are back on you, “You so rarely ever smile, but when you smile at me… It makes it all worth it. The long hours, the horrible cases… all of it.”

When you look back at him he’s suddenly serious again. You can see his eyes calculating as he searches your face and you realize with a bit of shock that he’s trying to see if you’re lying. When his eyes finally settle back on yours, he gently reaches up, almost without thinking about it and curls a loose piece of hair behind your ear.

And then in the next second, his hand still on your face, his mouth is on yours.You forget that there’s anyone else in the world for those few seconds that he kisses you. Until everyone on the team starts jeering and Aaron pulls away like he’s seen a ghost.

“Aaron?” You say, frowning as he jumps up from his seat, not looking at you and gathering his things.

“I’m sorry.” Is all he murmurs and then runs out.

Derek’s laughing as he walks up to you, “Damn, princess. You broke Hotch! I gotta say, you’re incredibly out of his league.” You glare at him. “What? You’re out of my league too.”

You smile at that and try to act like everything’s normal, but you’re sure Spencer notices that you drink more and laugh a little too loudly.

***

You’re pulled back from the memory as JJ walks toward you, “Hey, you alright?”

“Yeah,” You nod, “Fine, just needed a second alone to think.”

She stops in front of you and rests her hand on your arm, lightly squeezing, “You can talk to me, you know, about men. Even Hotch.”

You smile, “I appreciate everyone’s concern, but I’m fine, really. It’s not that big a deal.”

“It’s a big deal if it starts interfering with the job, and I can see it on both of you,” She’s stern all of a sudden, “I know he’s our boss, but underneath that he’s just any other man, Y/N. Don’t let him fool you into thinking otherwise.”

“Guys,” Derek interrupts, sticking his head out into the hallway, “You’re gonna wanna see this.”

When you come back in the room, Spencer is crouched over the body, gloves on, examining the carvings in her body, “There’s hesitation in the cuts this time and you can tell they were done after she was dead. And if you look a little bit closer…”

“‘Sorry…’” You read the small script, astonished. “Remorse. It was an accident.” Your eyes dart back and forth as you lose yourself in your own thoughts while the rest of the team discusses, “I think we can deliver the profile.”

***

“We’re looking for a white male in his early to mid twenties.” Hotch starts, “He most likely is able to gain the women’s trust, maybe he’s a student RA or a student tech worker, but they let him in without a second thought.”

“I thought he breaks into the dorms and waits for them?” A cop asks.

“He does,” You say, “But the initial access is how he chooses his victims. He’s a loner, doesn’t have many friends, certainly no girlfriend. It’s possible that he asks these girls on dates when he first meets them, and when they refuse he feels entitled to them anyway which is why he comes back for the rape.”

“What about the murder?” Another cop asks.

“We believe the death of the last girl was an accident.” Reid responds, “She had a heart condition and the medical examiner has confirmed she died from sudden cardiac arrest. The unsub even seemed to show remorse when he defiled the body after, carving the word ‘sorry’ into her body.”

“The killing has most likely set him on edge. He’s remorseful, upset, overcome with immense guilt, but he blames the women. If they had just said yes to him, he wouldn’t have to do this. She wouldn’t have died.” Derek continues, “You should be looking for someone who was soft spoken, but as the rapes started he became more assertive, maybe he had an altercation with a professor or supervisor.”

“You’ve probably interviewed him already,” You say, “He inserts himself into the investigation because he feels guilt and watching the investigation play out validates that he was right for doing what he did.” You sigh, “There’s one more thing. He didn’t intend to kill Victoria, but… He spent time with the body after she had passed. He mutilated her as well as continued his rape of her afterward. It’s possible that he enjoyed the kill and will kill the next time as well. So stay vigilant and… please tell the girls not to let any men in their dorms. Thank you.”

Aaron comes up to you, “Can I speak to you alone for a moment?”

You nod and follow him into a conference room and he closes the door behind you, “You’re really an incredible profiler, agent.”

Again with the ‘agent.’ “Thank you, sir.”

“I just wanted to assure you that I will remain nothing but professional around you from here on out.”

You tilted your head to the side and you knew the pain was evident on your face as you didn’t try to hide it, “I see.”

“You’re upset.”

You laugh, “Did you mean anything you said at the bar, Aaron, or were you just drunk?” You’re aware of how vulnerable you’re being in front of him now as you can hear the tears in your own voice.

You see him calculating what the best response is and this just infuriates you more, “Forget it, you’re just going to talk to me like some unsub, trying to best figure out what to say to calm me down.”

He shakes his head, “That’s not what I’m doing.”

You start to walk out and stop to stand next to him, “You just said yourself I’m an incredible profiler, so please don’t profile me and think I won’t notice.”

He closes his eyes as you continue walking out, “Y/N, wait.” Despite yourself, you do stop at the sound of your name. “I’m sorry, I-- I meant the things I said at the bar, I’m… But I’m your boss and I don’t want to make it difficult for you to do your job.”

You force a smile and look up at him, “Don’t worry, Hotch, won’t be a problem.”

And then you’re gone and he gets the feeling you won’t call him Aaron ever again.

***

Spencer walks in the entrance of the dorm you’ve been staking out, two coffees in hand. He hands one to you wordlessly, “Have you gotten any sleep?”

“Obviously not.” You sigh and happily guzzle the coffee, “Thanks.”

“Hotch is upset.”

“About what?” You murmur, half paying attention, half going over the case again on the papers in front of you.

“About you, obviously.”

You don’t look up, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. How do you even know Hotch is upset? He always looks like he’s pissed at something.”

“Because I’m a profiler. Everyone knows he’s off, no one will say to his face that it’s because of you.”

You sigh and look up at him, “Spencer, we’re fine, okay? We’re adults.” He’s quiet, but he won’t stop staring at you, “What?”

“I know that I’m… not the most perceptive when it comes to emotions, but… I think he’s in love with you. And I’m pretty sure you’re in love with him.”

You smirk, “And what makes you think that, Mr. Profiler?”

He smiles back, “Well, Hotch is always watching you, mostly when you’re not looking and when he does his expression sort of… softens. He almost always assigns the two of you together when giving the unit assignments, which I think is partially because he likes to be around you, but also because he’s trying to protect you, especially after that hostage situation a few months ago. He was a wreck when you were in there. Screaming at everyone, I really thought he would kill the unsub when he found him.”

“He would do that for any of us, when any of us were in danger.” You said, quickly shaking your head to dismiss the idea.

But Spencer shakes his head, “You didn’t see him. It was different.”

“Spencer, he barely gave me a pat on the back when I left that hostage situation alive.”

“That’s because he doesn’t trust himself around you. Why do you think the only time he’s ever given you a hint at the way he feels was when he was drunk?”

Your head is spinning as you look at Spencer, “No, that doesn’t make any sense--”

“It makes perfect sense and I know you know that.” Spencer’s phone rings, “Reid.” He sighs and lowers his head, “Where? Okay, we’ll be right there.” He hangs up the phone, “There’s another body.”

You sigh, “I really hate being right.”

***

“You were right,” Hotch says from behind you, “He’s discovered he likes killing.”

It was never easy looking at bodies, but somehow it was always worse when you had predicted it and still not been able to stop it, “How did he do it?”

“Manual strangulation.”

“Has anyone checked for skin or blood under her fingernails? Sign of a struggle?”

Aaron nods, “Already scraped off and sent to Garcia.”

“Even if she can’t find a match, we’ll be able to narrow down suspects by the injuries she left.”

“The school is panicking, they want to evacuate the campus.”

“If they evacuate we’ll never find him, he’ll just start again somewhere else.”

“That’s what I told them.”

You sigh, “Why are the girls still letting him in?”

“Maybe they’re not,” Hotch mused, “Maybe he’s starting to pick the girls from his classes now that we’re here.”

“The last two victims, do we have their schedules? Their majors?”

“They were both nursing majors,” Emily interjects, “Third year.”

You nod, “Okay, so by that point, third year, majority of their classes are restricted to nursing majors only.” You flip your phone open and dial Penelope.

“Hello my delightful fairy princess, what can I do for you?”

“Garcia, the last two victims, can you cross reference their class schedules and tell me if they had any classes in common?”

“Yes, just a second… Three classes in common.”

“Okay, cross reference with the remaining victims.”

“Um, okay, wow, all of them had two classes in common.”

“Shit.” You mutter, “Can you send over the class rosters of both those classes, but just the men. And also send pictures.”

“You got it.”

“Thanks, Penelope.”

You shake your head, “They were all nursing majors.” You say as you hang up, “How did we miss that?”

Reid was shaking his head, “We didn’t have a lot of time to interview the victims before the first body turned up.”

“Alright, we need everyone looking through those rosters, rounding up every male we can and interviewing them.” Hotch starts, “Y/N, you’re with me for interviews, the rest of you keep in touch with Garcia and find out anything you can.”

You try to ignore the shock you feel that he picked you this time, noting Reid’s raised eyebrows as he left the room. “You sure you want me on interviews?” You ask when you’re alone.

He’s looking at all the evidence on the corkboard, “Why wouldn’t I?”

“Wasn’t sure if you would want to work closely with me anymore.” You say, standing next to him now and also looking over the evidence.

He looks at you now, “You have the same features as a lot of the victims, I’m hoping it’ll get a rise out of our unsub if we find him.”

You nod, “Makes sense.”

“And,” He says pointedly until you meet his eyes, “As I’ve said already, you’re an excellent agent and I could use your help on this.”

You heave a big sigh, “Okay, how do you wanna play it?”

He shrugs, “I think you already know what role I need you to play.”

***

This is maybe the tenth or so interview you and Hotch had done with no success. You were tired of playing this role, especially in front of Hotch.

“Jordan.” You smile sweetly at him, making sure to lean over the table just a little to give him the view he wants, “Did you know either of these girls?” You lay the pictures of the last couple victims on the table, wait to see his reaction. He brings his hands up to rest on the table and you see the shallow scratch marks on them, you share a discreet look with Hotch who barely nods in acknowledgement.

He stares for far too long. Hotch notices his hands clench into fists. He’s excited by the bodies.

“Yeah, I knew them.” He’s still looking at the pictures, “They were in two of my classes.” He finally looks up and gazes at you hungrily, “You seem awful young to be an FBI agent.”

You smile again and then look away, a sign of submission. “Stop flirting with my agent.” Hotch says placing his palms abruptly on the table. Jordan doesn’t flinch at Hotch’s presence, not taking his eyes off you. He’s more confident than either of you anticipated. Was the profile wrong or is this the wrong guy? “How did you know the victims?”

“I just told you, from class.”

“Did you ever see them outside of class?”

He shrugs, “I don’t know, maybe, to do a project, not in a while though.”

“Jordan, do you know if either of the girls had a boyfriend?”

“Boyfriend?” He frowns, “Those two? No.” He practically scoffs.

You tilt your head to the side, “Why do you say it like that?”

“Those girls aren’t the boyfriend type. They’re whores.” There’s the bitterness in his voice.

You try to make your face as empathetic as possible, “What do you mean by that, Jordan?”

“Well, you know, they slept around… Wouldn’t give a nice guy like me a chance. You must know their type, you’re the FBI.”

You nod, “It must be so hard for a handsome, smart guy like you to get rejected. I can’t imagine why anyone would dream of missing out on that,” You shake your head, “Their loss.”

Hotch audibly scoffs and you watch Jordan glare at him. He’s getting angry. Good. “Hotch, why don’t you go get Jordan a water?”

Hotch blinks at you, trying to figure out if you had really just given him an order, “Agent, I am the lead interrogator on this case, I’m not leaving you alone in here--”

“Agent Hotchner,” You turn in your seat to face him, hoping he’ll read your expression, “Please get the young man a water, he’s been in here for hours.”

His eyes search your face for a few moments and then he leaves the room without another word. He won’t be getting Jordan a water. You know he’s watching carefully from the other side of the glass. “Sorry about him.” You say, “He doesn’t understand men like you.”

“Men like me?”

“Men who know how to get what they want.”

His face transforms as he watches you and he leans back in his chair, relaxed, legs spread to assert his dominance. “And you understand that?”

“There’s nothing sexier than a man who goes after what he wants… No matter what.”

He leans forward and whispers, “Even when they beg me to stop?”

You swallow past your disgust and, though you hate to admit it, fear, “Did they beg you to stop? Victoria and Erica?”

His smile widens as he watches you, “You remind me so much of them.”

“Can you tell me what you did to them? How you killed them?”

He licks his lips now, you think he’s lost all sense of where he is, falling for the delusion you’ve set in front of him, “You’re just like them, a dirty little slut. You want to be punished, don’t you?”

“Please.” Is the last word you whisper before he practically jumps across the table to grab your throat. Your chair falls backwards and he’s on top of you, crushing your windpipe. How could you forget that he was uncuffed? Hotch rushes in, he yells as he pulls Jordan off you, but you’re not sure what he’s saying. Then he’s cuffed Jordan and taken you out of the room.

“Sit.” Aaron says, ushering you to a chair that you practically fall into. You’re still coughing and you’re shaking a bit as Aaron gives you a water.

“I forgot,” You start, your voice hoarse, but Hotch brings the water cup to your mouth, insisting you drink before talking. You take a couple swallows, “I forgot he wasn’t cuffed.”

He shakes his head, “It’s my fault, I shouldn’t have left you alone with him.”

“No, I needed you on the other side of the glass. He wouldn’t have fallen for the delusion otherwise. I needed him to forget who I was and just see me as a potential victim.” Aaron wouldn’t meet your eyes, not wanting to admit that you were right, “I’m going back in there.”

“No, you’re not, that’s out of the question.”

“Is that an order, sir?” He scans your face in frustration, “You know it has to be me. He won’t talk to you. I’ll be fine.”

He sighs and rubs a hand over his face, “Fine. Ask him about Erica, don’t ask about Victoria.”

“Why?”

“Because he didn’t kill Victoria himself, it’ll ruin the fantasy and he might lie to you to try to impress you. The details of the murders weren’t shared with the public, only the unsub would know how each of them died. He needs to reveal how he killed Erica to you and then we’ll have him.”

“Okay.” You stand and hold your hands behind you so he won’t see them shaking, but he’s a profiler. The attempt is mute.

He takes a step closer, “You don’t have to go back in there,” He says softly, “No one will think less of you.”

When he’s this close, looking at you with such concern, it makes you want to melt in his arms. But you had a job to do, “I can do this.”

And before he can make you think about it more, you turn away from him and march back in the interrogation room.

“Sorry about that,” You sit back down at the table and smile at him, “My partner gets a little jealous sometimes.” You lean in and whisper, “He’s usually the only one I let handle me like that.”

Just like that he’s back, “Why don’t you uncuff me so we can continue?”

You bite your lip, “I’d like to hear more about the other girls first.”

***

“Why is she in there by herself?” Rossi came up behind Aaron who was watching the unsub’s every move, ready to jump in again if needed.

“She insisted.” Hotch says simply, “She almost has him.”

Rossi sighs, “She’s stubborn. Like someone else I know.”

Hotch is quiet for a moment, “I can’t be with her, Rossi, it could ruin her career.”

“You can’t know that. And besides, don’t you think that should be her decision to make?”

Hotch doesn’t answer, he just continues watching you.

***

“Does it turn you on hearing what I’ve done to them?”

You’re sitting on your hands now, trying to stifle the growing panic in your head that was telling you to get out. He’s unarmed, he’s cuffed, Aaron is right there. He can’t hurt you. “You have no idea.” It came out breathless from your fear, but he interpreted it as desire.

“First, I knocked her out, tied her to the bed. Then I waited for her to wake up before I began. I stripped her clothes off her at that point and then I fucked her while she cried,” He’s smiling at you and you’re doing all you can to keep your expression neutral. “I took out the knife and started carving her up. You should have heard her beg. And then, when that’s all finished, I strangled her while I came inside her.” He leans over the table to get closer to you, and it takes everything in you not to move away, “Have you ever watched the light leave someone’s eyes, sweetheart?”

You calmly scoot your chair back and stand, buttoning your shirt back up and then resting your hand on your gun, reminding him of who you really are, “Thank you, Jordan. You’ve been incredibly helpful in this investigation.” And then turn to leave ignoring the way he calls after you.

When you exit the room, Aaron and Dave are both waiting for you and you sit down, exhausted, resting your head in your hands.

“Nice work, kid.” Dave says with a squeeze on your shoulder, and then he’s gone.

Then, there’s another touch on your back, more gentle and hesitant. You look up to see Aaron watching you, concern masking his face, “I’m fine, Hotch.” You say, shrugging him off.

His hand drops and you immediately regret it. “When you were taken those months ago, by that unsub…” His words are slow, as if making sure this is what he really wants to say to you. You know exactly what he’s going to say before he says it, “He raped you, didn’t he?” Your eyes snap up to meet his. “You would never tell us what actually happened, all those hours he had you, a sexual sadist.” He shakes his head, “There’s no way he would’ve been able to control himself.”

You shake your head just lightly, “I can’t do this now, Aaron.”

“Then when?” He’s frustrated now, borderline angry, “You lied at your psych eval, you said nothing happened, we let you come back after just a couple of weeks--”

“And I’m doing just fine, aren’t I?” You stand so you’re nearly eye level with him.

“You think I didn’t notice the way you almost fell apart in there?”

“But I didn’t. I finished it and I did a damn good job and you know it.”

Hotch erases all traces of emotion from his face as he stares you down, “You’re suspended for two weeks, effective immediately. Hand over your badge and gun, agent.”

You nearly stumble back from him as if you’ve been hit, “Aaron?”

“What’s going on?” Prentiss has entered the room now followed by the rest of the team, all watching with confused and worried expressions.

“You heard me.” Hotch says, never taking his eyes off you. You make no moves to take out your badge or gun, “Now, agent.” There’s bite to his words this time.

You feel humiliated. With the whole team watching, you place your gun and badge on the table and brush by Aaron without a second glance. Pushing past the team, even Spencer who reaches for you.

“What the hell was that, Hotch?” Derek says once you’ve left.

“She lied in order to pass her psych eval. I did what I had to do.” Everyone’s staring at him, but he walks by, seemingly unphased, “Good work, everyone. Get some rest, we go home tomorrow at first light.”

[elfy-elf-imagines]

Begin Again | Thranduil

Pairing: Thranduil x Elf!Reader

Genre: Fluffy new beginnings

Warnings: ---

Words: ~2k

Note: If you’d like to be added to a tag list for any of my works, there’s a link on my page 💕 Also, I’m big dummy and lost the original request, so I couldn’t remember what all you wanted in this one-shot. So requester, whoever you are, I’m so sorry! And if you’d like another part to expand on your full request, please let me know!

  It’s strange.

  You’re whole life, you’ve always heard about how horrible it is for an elf to lose the one they love. It’s been described as feeling as though you’ve been ripped into two pieces, forced to live on without your second half. You’ve heard it feels like tiny needles stabbing into your heart until you can’t feel anything but a stifling anguish that seeps into your bones, poisoning your body from within until you eventually fade away.

  Yet you feel none of that. You feel nothing at all, like a soul wandering aimlessly for the rest of eternity, cursed with never finding a purpose or reason to stick around. But being forced to endure, none-the-less. You can sail, as an elf that’s your right, and perhaps you would find peace, wrapped in the warm embrace of Valinor as you forget all your fears and pain.

  But you don’t want to be happy, because being happy means you forget, and you're not ready to forget your beloved yet.

  The forest floor beneath you is damp from the rain that blessed Eryn Galen a few days ago. The mud sinks in between your toes as you nearly melt into the soft ground. The forest around you is lush and green, wrapping you in its warm embrace that allows for a moment of respite from your thoughts.

  The forest is empty, only the gentle sway of the trees and emerald leaves falling to the ground your company. You stare up at the sky that peaks through the canopy of leaves, the stars are out tonight and they burn brighter than you’ve ever seen them. And you wished to climb to the tops of the trees if only to feel the soft glow of moonlight on your skin.

  But that would be a foolish thing to do, a whimsy only a child would fulfill. So you simply stand in the clearing, selfishly hoarding the only spot you’ve discovered that the sky is visible.

  You thought yourself alone, something you covet more often than not. 

  And yet.

  “Forgive me, I did not realize this spot was currently occupied,” a baritone voice sounds behind you.

  Your heart pounds against your chest, the owner of the voice easily recognizable through your deep daydreams. Whirling around quicker than you’ve ever moved, you see King Thranduil standing at the edge of the clearing. He’s lacking the usual extravagant attire he usually dons, instead opting for a slightly more casual outfit. But he still wears clothes that could’ve been woven from silver and gold, the cloth glittering in the dim light.

  “My king,” you say, immediately bowing your head down in respect, thoroughly inspecting your dirtied feet. “I will take my leave.”

  “There is no need, it was I who interrupted you,” he moves further into the clearing and closer to you. His movements are smooth like a cat, his icy blue eyes lazily focusing on you.

  “Yet you are the king,” you reply, voice hardly above a whisper.

  King Thranduil is an intimidating figure, anyone within five feet of him would agree. Not in the way that lady Galadriel of Lothlorien is - her power so great you can’t help but feel suffocated, yet it is her kind smile that soothes even the most skittish. Lord Elrond carries himself with a warm presence, like a father he is kind and caring, but stern as well.

  No, King Thranduil carries a sense of tragedy with him that can’t be masked by his cold eyes or looming figure. He is the shining example of how horrible things could get for an elf when their other half passes. So far gone is he, they whisper, that not even his son can pull him from his melancholy.

  “Then as king, I order you to stay. It would be nice to have some company,” he responds, leaving no room for argument. So you nod your head in agreeance, but keep your head lowered, tracing every speck of mud covering your toes.

  “Would you not even look at your monarch?” he asks, but his voice isn’t laced with anger or malice and if you didn’t know any better, you’d think there’s a hint of humor in it.

  “I apologize, My King,” you say, lifting your head to meet his gaze. Your eyes meet his and for a second, you jolt, a sensation filling your body, something you haven’t felt in years.

  “I have never seen you before. How have I never seen you?” he questions, thick brows furrowing in frustration and confusion, but his eyes remain locked on you, as do yours.

  “Y/N, My King. I just arrived here a few moons ago from the Lorien,” you respond. He says nothing for a few moments, keeping his intense gaze locked on you. And for a brief second, you swear that he could read each and every thought that passes your brain, that’s he seen every memory you have.

  “Well then, allow me to formally welcome you to Eryn Galen, Lady Y/N. Tell me how have you found my kingdom, thus far?” he asks, sweeping his arm out in a grand gesture as he welcomes you.

  “It is very beautiful, My King. The trees are so tall and the leaves so green,” you say, glancing up towards the sky, enraptured by the emerald canopy above you.

  “Do they not have trees this tall in the Lorien? I was under the impression their forest was quite beautiful,” he replies, sharp eyes locked on you.

  “They do but not quite like here. Do not misunderstand me, the Lorien possesses great beauty, the mallorn tree is magnificent to look upon, but Eryn Galen offers a different beauty. I find myself in great need of change these days, it would seem.”

  “Perhaps one day you could humor me and tell me of what would need to warrant such a drastic change?” You turn to look at him, meeting his steely gaze, and he raises a single eyebrow at you. However before you can open your mouth to speak, he turns and leaves. Leaving you behind in the small clearing, and for a moment, your heart starts fluttering in a way it hasn’t in a long time.

  And you turn back around, watching the leaves dance through the sky, free from the confining grasp of the branches. A small smile rests on your face, losing yourself in daydreams you never thought you’d see again.

  “Lady Y/N, how lovely of you to join me,” King Thranduil's voice is crisp and clear, perfectly projecting across the large room. He sits languidly at a chair, carved from wood with delicate engraving dancing on the tops of them. A glass of wine in one hand and the other slung over the top of his chair, he is the picture of ease.

  “It is my pleasure to join you, My King,” you reply, lowering your gaze to the floor once he meets yours. With slow and tentative steps, you move towards the open space to his right, where a glass of wine already poured. Your heart is racing, sweat building up in the palms of your hands as you open and close them. What feels like a lifetime later, you reach the chair, a guard so still he could’ve been a statue, pulling it out for you as you sit in it. 

  “Thank you,” you quietly say as the guard pushes your chair forward.

  “Please, leave us” Thranduil’s voice is commanding and firm, not allowing any room for questions he does not wish to answer. Silently and quickly, every guard in the room filters out. And as their light footsteps disappear, you and Thranduil are left in the room...alone.

  A small burst of courage surges through you, your gaze leaving the fine china it was tracing over and over again to meet his gaze. His eyes are just as icy blue as you remember, but somehow they seem softer than they had been in the forest. Or perhaps the light is playing tricks on you.

  Everyone knows that elves only truly love once.

  Your mouth is dry, nerves suddenly overtaking you. What are you supposed to say; to do? You’ve never spent much time in the presence of royalty, often preferring to stay in the shadows, content with a simple life. Yet fate seems to have other plans for you. Or is this just simply Thranduil, and the gods have nothing to do with his intentions - whatever they may be?

  “Do not be so nervous. Please, drink. The food will be ready momentarily,” Thranduil says, motioning towards you with a wine goblet in hand. You nod, still silent as ever.

  With a shaky, damp hand, you reach towards your wine goblet, grasping the cold metal in your warm hands. Taking a deep breath, you pick it up, bringing it towards your lips. The wine is smooth as it pours down your throat, cool and soothing to the dessert inside your mouth. It’s slightly sweet, not at all holding the bitter aftertaste the wine of Man possesses.

  You set the glass down, turning your attention to Thranduil. He watches you with sharp eyes, an expectant look on his face.

  “It is very good, Your Grace,” you mutter, and in exchange for speaking so quietly, you manage to keep your voice steady.

  “Excellent.”

  You smile, and it’s all nerves and anxiety, closely resembling a grimace rather than a beaming grin. Your heart is fierce against your chest, and you fear in that moment he will hear it. But if he does, he doesn’t comment on it.

  “If I may be so bold, Your Grace, might I enquire as to why you’ve called me here?” Your voice is louder this time, but there’s a slight waver towards the end, betraying everything you feel.

  He’s silent for a moment as if he’s gathering his thoughts, figuring out a way to deliver whatever is running in his mind. You nearly crack, the apology for overstepping your boundaries on the tip of your tongue when he finally speaks.

  "Am I not allowed to simply get to know my subjects?" Thranduil asks, a sly smirk resting on his lips. He brings the goblet of wine to his lips, slowly sipping it. He lowers it slightly so that it rests just below his chin. 

"Of course, but I suppose I'm just curious as to why you've invited me to a private meal with you. Am I correct to assume you don't do this with every one of your subjects?" you say, your eyes wide like a doe, with hands in your lap. Your fingers intertwine with each other, a way to distract you from the anxiety in you. 

  Thranduil continues to watch you, an unreadable expression in his ocean eyes. He inhales deeply, leaning farther back into his chair. After a few moments of silence, he opens his mouth. 

  “I find myself wanting to get to know you better. I find you intriguing.” Your mind turns blank, all sense and reason leaving it. For a moment you don’t believe you’ve heard him correctly, not grasping that a king would be so curious about you.

  “I do not understand, what about me is so interesting? We’ve only met once, hardly having a full conversation,” you say. Your voice is firmer than before, drowning with disbelief.

  “Then it would seem you’ve made an impression.”

  You open your mouth, and then promptly close it, not sure how to proceed. Your heart is fluttering, though due to anxiety. Not this is something… different, a type of nervousness, but not due to fear. A light feeling that also leaves you light with giddiness and not weighed down by dread.

  But it can’t be.

  Elves only love once. Yet the mantra you’ve repeated over and over again seems to be losing its weight, the words no longer feeling as true as before.

  “Would it be alright, if I were to get to know you better, My Lady?” he asks, his voice softer than before, his fair face still neutral, yet less austere than it had been the first time you met.

  Elves only love once.

  And yet.

  “I would like that very much, Your Grace.” Your smile widens, less unsure than before, your eyes shining like starlight. The prospect of something new is exciting yet also terrifying at the same time. You should run and hide, fiercely guarding your already fragile heart like a dragon watches over its treasure hoard.

 Elves only love once. And yet.

  You push aside those fears, in favor of welcoming a chance at a new beginning.

  And yet.

o0o0o

Tags: 

@lunatichaotiche​ | @aearonnin​ | @emiliessketches​ | @vibratingbones​ | @moony-artnstuff​ | @ranhanabi777​ | @kenobiguacamole​ | @ceinelee​ | @thranduil​ | @samnblack​ | @abbiesthings​ | @Strangebananabatranch | @bitter--fruit​ | @keijibum​ | @lifestylesleep​ | @lilith15000 | 

[kindahoping4forever]

...Ready For It? // Ashton Irwin

Thank you to everyone who said they wanted to read this story, whether it was in the poll I posted 12 hours ago or when I first posted In My Dreams... You Should See The Things We Do back in June (!) - I actually started working on this not that long after I posted and while the skeleton concept stayed the same, everything else was kind of fluid until last month when I finally felt satisfied with it. As always, thank you to @cal-puddies​ for listening to me whine and obsess over every detail and for (virtually) slapping me upside the head every time I said I was going to just scrap it (and there were many times, trust.)

Note this is a sequel but I think there’s enough context within this piece that you’d be able to enjoy as a standalone if you haven’t read or forgot what happened during In My Dreams...

Warnings: Sexual tension, frustration and resolution. I couldn’t figure out how to do specific warnings without also spoiling the narrative (yes, really) so this is kind of a blanket fluffy smut warning. The sex is explicit in detail but not extreme in nature. ‘Tis a soft, dirty story you’re about to read. Also yes, Ash wears the mountain pants again and no, I will not apologize. 

Word Count: 10,555

Masterlist // Ko-Fi and New 2021 Taglist linked above

Let  me  know  what  you  think!

“I can’t say this is how I imagined getting you out of your clothes for the first time but after months of isolation, I’ll take what I can get,” you quip.

Ashton giggles as he peels off his button down shirt, leaving him in a classic white tank. “I can’t say anything about tonight has gone the way I imagined it would,” he confesses. “I’m sorry things have been kind of a bust.”

You try not to blatantly ogle his muscular build as you playfully jab, “You mean, you didn’t spend all that time longing for us to spend hours waiting outside a restaurant for a socially distant table only to be turned away because now it’s closing time and ending up having to eat drive thru burgers in the backseat of your car?”

“With ketchup dripping all over one of my best shirts? And you saving the day with a suspiciously convenient stain remover pen?” He riffs, passing his top to you.

“Exactly how I pictured it,” you shrug, dabbing at his shirt with the aforementioned magic pen.  “Shame, our fantasies tend to match up a lot better than this.”

You’d never thought much of long distance relationships and you especially never thought you’d find yourself in one with only a few miles separating you but 2020 had been full of surprises; getting to know Ash had turned out to be the silver lining in an otherwise terrible year. 

You’ve each reflected on it plenty and agreed it seems as if your connection was destined to see you both through this strange period. You met at the last party you were invited to before quarantine started, you ran into each other again at the last concert either of you got to attend. Your first date was also your final restaurant meal, the last time you went to a movie was with a group of mutual friends and you sat next to him, giggling like a teenager, intentionally brushing his fingers in the popcorn tub.

When the stay at home order was issued, it didn’t take long for you to check in with each other and while it wasn’t an easy time, you were grateful to build a bond with literally no outside influence. And now after countless texted inside jokes, heart to heart phone calls (and more than a few naughty ones), restrictions had been relaxed and you were finally able to reunite. Only the real world is proving to be a bit more complicated than either of you remember.

“You know, I’m not usually a ‘hop in the backseat on a first date’ kind of gal, but this is pretty fun,” you joke.

Ashton grins. “If it makes you feel any better, I think technically this is maybe our third or fourth date?”

“Anything pre-quarantine doesn’t count,” you shake your head insistently. “That was a lifetime ago, another world. I cook now, I go for walks, I do crosswords now. Whoever you went out with in The Before Times - I don’t know her.”

His loud laugh fills the car and the warmth of it overwhelms you; after months of hearing it through a speaker, you can’t believe you’re finally getting to witness it in person. 

"So if we’re starting over at square one, then what’s the explanation for that kiss you laid on me when I picked you up?” He teases.

“I’m a complex woman, I feel like you should know that by now,” you reply with a coy shrug, handing him his now stain free shirt.

The two of you finish your meals, chatting happily and making non-stop jokes about what a fail your date was. You’re relieved at how natural things are flowing; you knew there was undeniable chemistry but part of you was still nervous about getting used to being around each other - another person, even - again. But beyond the standard date jitters, things were comfortable and familiar.

Your anxiety briefly returns as he pulls the car into your driveway. Of course you want to invite him in, you’ve been waiting so long to invite him in but things just feel… off. You turn, ready to offer an apologetic goodnight but before you get a chance, he’s turning to look at you sheepishly.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this but would you mind if we maybe called it a night?” He rushes out, nervously running a hand through his hair. You watch him, fascinated. You’re still not used to how long his hair got in quarantine and you’re definitely not used to seeing him bashful. “I know we joked about it and I appreciate you being cool about everything but I really did want to give you the night out you deserve… and that just didn’t happen. I’d like to try again.”

Your heart swells at his sincerity; he’d always been so genuine and open over the phone, but it’s almost overwhelming experiencing it while he’s looking into your eyes. “Have I never told you that ketchup stains are one of my biggest turn ons?” You tease, hoping to ease some of his obvious embarrassment. “Hey, we’ve waited this long, what’s a little bit longer?”

A little bit longer ends up being the following weekend. It turns out, coming up with romantic and yet responsibly distanced date ideas is harder than either of you thought. With you both having the luxury of working from home and generally not having to venture out unless absolutely necessary, you both decide you’re most comfortable with eliminating the public out of the equation as much as you can.

You settle on a short hike followed by a picnic and when you open your front door you realize just how unprepared you are for the concept of Morning Ash. You smile to yourself as you realize that he must have overslept as his face is still adorably puffy from sleeping, hair still wet from the shower. Yesterday’s five o’clock shadow is still present - he must have been running so late he had to forego his morning shave. The thought of waking up next to him looking like this pops into your mind, that soon you could be the reason he’s running late in the morning and your stomach actually drops.

You push your thoughts aside as you move to greet him with a hug; his cologne is prominent and obviously freshly sprayed and you think to yourself that you're excited to smell like him for the rest of the day.

“Got a surprise for you in the car,” he murmurs.

You’re in the middle of wondering how he makes even a simple white t-shirt look devastating when he opens the passenger door for you. Before you even climb in, you’re instantly greeted by the smell of fresh coffee and breakfast burritos and he chuckles at the way your face lights up. 

“Flowers seemed too formal for a morning date, I figured caffeine and grease was just as nice.” 

“I’ve never felt more seen by a partner,” you smile, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him in for a sweet, slow kiss. 

You start to pull away to get in the car but Ashton snakes his arms around you and draws you back in for a few more smooches. “Figure we should get as many of these in as we can now, those burritos are no joke,” he laughs.

It’s a bit of a drive to get to a hiking trail that seemed unlikely to be crowded but you don’t mind. After months of waiting to be in this man’s presence, the more time you can spend with him the better. The trip passes quickly, with the two of you basking in each other’s company, play-arguing over playlists and agreeing that “when this is all over” you should plan a road trip together.

“Looks like we’ve got the place to ourselves,” he observes, pulling the car into the empty lot. He’s first out of the car and you hear a distinct “UGH” from him as soon as he steps out. He sees your puzzled look through the windshield as he walks around to your side to open your door. “I didn’t expect it to be so fuckin’ hot,” he explains.

You get out and instantly scrunch up your face as a gust of hot wind breezes over you. “Well, we did travel more inland, I guess it makes sense it’d be a little warmer,” you reason. 

You commiserate about the weather and then Ash starts gathering your things from the trunk of the car, taking non-essentials out of your backpacks since the heat is going to make your hike a lot less leisurely than planned. 

Despite the weather, the first portion of your hike is nice: you stroll and talk, enjoying the scenery and your time together. Ashton brought his camera with him and you catch him sneaking a few photos of you along the trail so you teasingly start snapping an excessive amount of pics of him using your phone.

As you get closer to the area you planned on stopping at for lunch, the heat starts getting more and more intense. The morning clouds have now dissipated and the sun is bright and unrelenting, causing the conversation to drag as you both start breathing a little more labored, focusing on getting to your stopping point as quickly as possible. It takes a lot longer than expected and by the time you reach your picnic spot, you’re both exhausted and covered in sweat.

You spread a blanket on the ground and immediately throw yourself on it, grateful for a chance to rest. You look up and see Ash peeling off his t-shirt and draping it over a rock in hopes it will dry before you have to head back.

Normally you’d be silently reprimanding yourself for staring at his bare flesh on display but truthfully all you’re thinking about is how much skin he’s exposing to the sun. “Think we left the sunscreen in the car,” you declare, sitting up to dig through your stuff. “As much as I’m enjoying the show, you’re gonna get fried if you don’t throw that back on.”

He sprawls out on the blanket next to you. “We’re shaded, it’ll be fine,” he insists, pulling his sweat-soaked hair back with a rubber band from his wrist.

The picnic is pleasant but far from the romantic adventure you’d envisioned. You’d hoped the two of you would be laughing under a tree, eating a delicious meal as an equally delicious breeze grazes your skin. The reality is the two of you sitting in silence because you’re so uncomfortable under the unforgiving sunshine, eating food that you would’ve preserved better had you known about the weather, as a hot wind scorches your skin. The part of you that had fantasized about sneaking in a heated makeout can’t get enough of the irony that this date is definitely heated, just not in the way it should’ve been.

With the peak temperature of the day still to come, you agree to call it and head for the car already; Ash puts his shirt back on and you notice him wincing as he moves his obviously sunburned skin, but you choose to say nothing.

The trek back is quiet, both of you physically drained and a bit mentally defeated at yet another date gone awry. At one point, you stop in a shaded area to catch your breath and you give him a quick kiss. “Had fun,” you say quietly. He offers you a soft smile in return.

The drive home is equally lowkey, the discontent and exhaustion of the day filling where there should be sexual tension. He knows the mood has deflated considerably so he doesn’t even ask you to come back to his, he just drives you home. 

The car pulls into your driveway and you turn to him. “Think we’re cursed or something?” Your voice is joking but he can detect the undertone of worry.

Ash gives you a bright smile that’s instantly a comfort. “Nah… maybe cursed with too much ambition and insufficient planning skills but I have no doubt this is exactly where I’m meant to be.” He reaches for your hand, interlacing your fingers and kissing your knuckles.

He walks you to your door and gives you a long kiss that almost has you reconsidering inviting him in. “We got this,” he whispers. 

You ruffle his hair. “I’ve also got aloe you can borrow for these sunburns, how are you even able to move?” You laugh, unlocking your door.

A few days pass before either of you broach the subject of another date; you’re finally the one to bring it up and you both agree on a simple dinner at home for the next night.

“Third time’s a charm, right?” You joke as he opens the door.

He draws you in for a slow kiss as you step inside. You murmur when you feel his facial hair brush against you; his beard is fuller than when you last saw him and you suspect he may have quit shaving simply based on the reaction you’d had to the look on your date. “Well, we’re already off to a good start, I’d say,” he comments against your lips.

You’ve only ever seen Ashton’s house in the background of your video chats and when he notices you looking around with fascination, he excitedly offers to give you a tour. You swear you can actually hear your heart going pitter patter as he proudly escorts you around, sharing funny memories about his friends involving each room or telling elaborate stories about different trinkets he owns. You can tell he’s missed entertaining people in his home and you’re so happy that you’re able to fill that void for him tonight.

You follow him to the kitchen. “Smells amazing, must be quite the dish,” you tease, knowing full well you sent him the “secret” recipe for your grandma’s spaghetti sauce the night before. He pokes at you and you giggle, “Anything I can do to help?”

“The groceries should be delivered any minute,” he answers, checking his phone. “There’s gloves and sanitizer wipes under the sink if you don’t mind taking care of that when it arrives.”

A few minutes later, you peck his cheek as you pass by to go outside and tend to your assignment. Ash nearly spirals when it’s discovered that the shopper made some substitutions without asking but you reassure him that dinner’s not ruined even if the sauce uses regular sugar instead of brown and will be poured over fettuccine noodles instead of spaghetti. 

“Not to jinx anything but I think this is our best first date yet,” you joke after dinner, getting out two coffee mugs from the cabinet he’d directed you to.

“All we had to do was eliminate the variables: other people, the weather, the outside world in general,” he ticks off the list on his fingers with a smile.

You hit the brew button on the coffeemaker and slide closer to where he stands loading the dishwasher. “Well. Just proves that all we really need is each other,” you muse, with a sweet smile. He grins at you, drying his hands so that he can cradle your face and kiss you. His hands are soft from the soap he just used and you sigh approvingly into his mouth as his thumb draws circles on your cheek.

That flirty but sweet tone continues as you move to the living room; you sit on the couch, drinking your coffee, chatting comfortably. You both keep finding reasons to scoot closer together, a thick layer of tension between you. You’d each talked a big game when sharing fantasies about what your first time might be like but now that it might be here, you’re surprised by the hazy combination of excitement and nerves you feel.

It’s hard to say who makes the first move: there’s a lull in the conversation and then suddenly, a kiss. Ashton’s hands quickly make their way into your hair and before long, things get heated and you find yourself climbing into his lap to straddle him. This was about as far as things had gotten between you pre-quarantine and it’s as glorious as you remember.

You roll your hips above him and he groans into the mark he was leaving on your neck; your shirt rides up with your movements and his fingers softly dance over the exposed skin. As you nibble along his jaw, his hands find their way up the back of your shirt and you shiver at his warmth. You put your hands on his wrists, guiding them up, letting him know it’s OK to take your shirt off; he does and you silently thank your past self for wearing one of your pretty bras tonight. 

“So beautiful, baby,” he breathes and then his mouth is back on yours, hands busy exploring the new skin on display for him. You shift your hips again and this time find yourself the one to groan, feeling him hard beneath you for the first time; you’ve spent a lot of time wondering what this would feel like and it’s more intoxicating than you ever could’ve imagined.

Ash lifts you off his lap and lays you back on the couch, peeling his own shirt off before moving to be on top of you. He kisses you hungrily and then makes his way down your body, the scratch of his beard deliciously teasing you, lips pecking over every inch of your neck before they attach to the tops of your breasts.

You pull him back up to your mouth and slide your hands down to unbuckle his belt. You brush over his length through his jeans and nearly gasp at the contact; you know he’s not even fully hard and he feels huge. This revelation has you getting impatient and you attempt to push his pants down. "Jesus dude, are these painted on or what?" You joke, struggling.

 "Hey, I could ask you the same thing," he retorts, running his hands along your ass to prove his point. With a goofy smile, he asks, "Should we pause and de-pants ourselves?" 

You laugh as you untangle yourself from his body and pull your pants off while he does the same. He eyes your matching lace lingerie and teases, "That’s some mighty fancy underwear you've got on there, Miss ‘Let’s Take The Pressure Off And Not Expect Anything To Happen Tomorrow Night’.”

You feel your cheeks warming at both his gawking attention and his implication you were hoping things would end up this way. You playfully fire back, "Maybe I dress like this all the time, you don't know me… or maybe I wanted to feel sexy for myself tonight." You try to pull him into a kiss but he pulls back, looking at you with a raised eyebrow. "Or maybe I'm really behind on laundry and I only have the nice stuff left," you say with a sheepish giggle. 

“That I believe,” he laughs delightedly. "Whatever the reason, you look fucking incredible.”

You intend to murmur a thanks but the way his kisses are currently being  peppered in between your breasts causes it to come out as a moan instead. His fingers toy with the closure of your bra and he looks at you to softly ask, “May I?”

You nod enthusiastically and close your eyes as his mouth acquaints itself with your bare breasts, your hands tangling in his hair. Your mouths find each other again, tongues familiarizing themselves with every detail of each other. You reach between your bodies and grip the tent in his underwear; you trace the shape of him through the material and he breaks your kiss to let out a strained moan. “God, I can’t wait to make you cum,” you murmur, a bit surprised by your own boldness.

You feel Ash breathe deeply, affected by your words. “Well, I’m afraid I have a strict ‘ladies first’ policy in this house, so I clearly need to get started,” he jokes, attempting to steady himself. “Bedroom?”

He helps you off the couch and you start to reach for your discarded clothes but he pulls you along, shaking his head. “You won’t be needing those for a while,” he grins.

You follow him to his room, impressing yourself with how steady on your feet you are, how calm you feel; your heart is racing but it’s from anticipation instead of uncertainty, which is unusual for you when you’re about to sleep with someone new. You tend to make these decisions impulsively, with a bit of a “fuck now, ask questions later” attitude. The fact that you’ve waited for this long to be with him and that you feel totally at ease, wandering through his upstairs hallway in just your panties, is the latest in a series of signs telling you that your feelings for Ashton are different.

You settle on the bed while he pauses in the doorway, fiddling with the dimmer on the light switch, determined to get it just right. He finally comes over and you don’t waste any time, climbing over to the edge of the bed to pull off his boxers. His cock springs free and you bite your lip, hoping you’re not actually drooling like you fear you might be.

“You good?” He goads you with a smug smile. During a couple of your video romps, you’d gotten yourself off with toys and he teased you about your selections, calling you a size queen. As you find yourself fascinated surveying the notable length and girth in front of you, you have to admit, he’s not wrong.

You silence his remarks by leaning forward and tentatively licking his tip, closing your eyes in satisfaction when you taste a drop of precum. You roll your tongue around the head, tracing every curve and ridge with your tongue. When you get comfortable enough to wrap your lips around him and slowly start taking him into your mouth, he quietly breathes your name, brushing your hair out of your face, and you feel like you could cum right then and there.

He senses your eagerness and lets you work for a bit longer before he gently pulls you off with a heavy sigh. "Ladies first, remember?" He rasps, flashing you a dazzling smile that would've made you weak even if he wasn't naked in front of you.

He gestures for you to lay back as he kneels at the edge of the bed, dragging his beard across your thighs before hooking his thumbs in your panties to slowly pull them off. You close your eyes, a blissful, close-mouthed smile decorating your face. Ash groans, gazing up at you. “Do you have any idea how many times I laid in this bed picturing what it’d be like to have you here like this?” He asks, raising himself up to kiss you passionately. “Better than I ever could’ve imagined.” 

His lips travel back down your body and you’re so caught up in how dreamy it is to finally feel him like this, you don’t notice he’s already made it back down your body and you cry out when his tongue licks a bold stripe up your center. You’re almost certain you feel him smile against you, proud of the reaction he’s achieved. 

You run your hands through his long hair, trying your best not to tug at it too much, although you suspect he might enjoy that. He alternates between soft, fluttering licks at you and long, intentional strokes, using every centimeter of his wide tongue. It’s overwhelming but you breathe deeply, trying to maintain control; it’s when he wraps his lips around your clit and starts sucking that you start writhing, your legs involuntarily closing in around his head and you tap at him to get his attention.

He immediately pulls back. “Too much?” He reassuringly squeezes your ankle, looking at you encouragingly. “Tell me what you need, sweetheart, wanna do what I can to make you feel good.”

You sit up on your arms, lightheaded from both pleasure and his care. “Ash, oh my god, it feels amazing,” you insist, reaching out to brush his hair out of his eyes. “I just… I really wanna cum with you in me... and I can’t always go for two… and it was feeling so good right now…”

Ashton leans up, pausing your nervous rambling with a sweet kiss. “Hey, it’s all good, I’m glad you told me,” he soothes. “Do you want to go ahead or do you need more time? We can do something else to get you ready. Your call.” 

You grin and guide his hand to run along your wet folds. “I think this qualifies as ready, don’t you?” 

“Alright, cheeky girl,” he teases, casually lifting his fingers from your wetness to his mouth, tasting you on them. “Still, there’s lube in the left nightstand if you want to get it out just in case.”

“Gentlemanly offer and a brag at the same time, I’m into it,” you laugh.

He giggles loudly, moving off the bed. “Gotta grab the condoms,” he explains, leaving the room.

You retrieve the bottle of lube like he suggested and tidy the bed up a little bit, adjusting the pillows to make yourself comfortable. He’s gone for what feels like a long time but you chalk it up to your excitement for what’s about to happen. You sit back, surveying the room, making mental notes about different things you want to ask him about later. Finally, you hear him call your name from down the hall and you curiously holler back at him.

He pops his head in the room, looking mildly panicked. “Please tell me you saw a box of condoms in the groceries you put away,” he inquires breathlessly.

Your heart sinks. “Um… no? I didn’t,” you take a steadying breath, bracing yourself for what seems like very bad news. “It was mostly food. And the napkins we used. Toothpaste I put in the bathroom. No condoms.”

Ash inhales sharply, nodding rapidly, which unsettles you; he comes to sit on the edge of the bed and drags his hands over his face and through his hair. “Well. This is just never gonna fucking happen, I guess,” he declares dramatically. You feel weirdly exposed now that the mood has shifted and you reach for a blanket to cover yourself with before you crawl over to him.

You rest your head on his shoulder, letting him know you’re there. He smiles sadly and strokes over your hair. “I’m so sorry, baby. I hadn’t dated in a while and then with lockdown… I didn’t know until yesterday what I had was expired so I tossed them and ordered some today… and they’re just… not here,” he says regretfully.

You chew your lip, evaluating how you should respond; you’re disappointed, obviously - very disappointed - but Ashton is clearly upset with himself and you don’t want to make him feel any worse. “I suppose it’d be irresponsible of me to suggest we ignore this road block by employing the old ‘spray and pray’ method?” You joke… at least you think you’re joking.

He snorts, turning to look at you with a smile on his face, which makes you feel better about things. “I’m sure you’re not serious but no, after all this time, after we finally had the perfect date, no, I’m not going to pull out and ‘spray and pray,’ he chuckles.

You smile back at him. “Well,” you start flirtatiously, “I meant it when I said I couldn’t wait to make you cum.” Your fingers dance along his bare thigh, travelling close to his softened cock. “We can still fool around, if you want.”

He looks at you fondly, squeezing your hand on his leg. “I really don’t know what I did to deserve you.”

“Ash, as sweet as you are, this is an entirely selfish act on my part, I really just want you to moan for me,” you smirk, moving to sit back against the pillows. “Plus this is possibly the most turned on I’ve ever been and if I don’t get off soon, I might actually die.”

Grinning, he crawls up the bed and settles in next to you. “Well. Can’t have that, now can we?” He teases in a low voice, kissing you with an intoxicating restraint. “Got anything particular in mind?” He feels you sigh against him as he gets his mouth on your neck and his hand on your breast.

It takes you a second to find your voice again, still getting used to the novelty of being able to feel his touch. “To be honest, I wouldn’t mind getting my mouth back on you,” you confess with heavy breath. “Or we could just, you know, play with each other.” You slide your hand down to find his cock, lightly rubbing your fingertips up and down his shaft, feeling it start to rise for you again.

Ash groans and throws his arm around your shoulders, turning so that you’re cradled into his side. Your hand lazily drags over his length while he holds you, kissing you with a renewed intensity. The arm around you softly massages your shoulder while his free arm is exploring your body: palming your breasts, twirling your nipples, fingers caressing the rise and fall of your tummy. 

He breaks the kiss as his hand makes its way between your legs, tentatively brushing along your inner thigh, watching you closely as his fingers move to trace your lips and then your folds. He swirls through your wetness and then gently starts rubbing your clit; your hand instantly stills on him and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. 

“This feel alright?” He asks, studying your face. 

You take your free hand and place it on his, encouraging him to apply more pressure. “So good, Ash,” you murmur, raising your mouth to his again, eager to have his affection completely enveloping you.

You resume your motion on his cock, stroking him firmly, listening for the hitches in his breath or gentle grunts to tell you that your instincts of how to please him are correct. You try to recall what you can from the months you spent watching him touch himself online; you vividly remember him twisting over the tip while he used his other hand to cradle his balls. You give it a try and he lets out a loud moan, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

The two of you familiarize yourselves with each other’s bodies, savoring the noises you’re pulling from each other because although it’s not the first time you’ve ever heard them, it’s the first time they’re being caused by you. 

Ashton’s fingers tease along your entrance and you can’t breathe out a “Please” fast enough; he slides two fingers inside and starts thrusting. He starts with a moderate pace but you’re so worked up, you’re bucking against his hand almost immediately, overwhelmed at the thought of some part of him finally inside you.

You try your best to keep jerking him off but it’d be an understatement to say you’ve become distracted as his fingers move in you; you whisper an apology as you let go of him, starting to lose control, digging your nails into his bicep, whining at how you can feel it flex from the way he’s working your body. 

Ash can’t get enough of how receptive you are to him so when you mutter out another “Sorry” upon realizing how red the skin around his snake tattoo is from you holding on to him, he squeezes your shoulder in reassurance. “Listen, you can scratch that thing clean off if it means I’m making you feel that good,” he teases, nipping at your neck. “Are you as close as it sounds like you are?”

You’re sure your cheeks must already be flushed but you still feel them warm up at the implication that he recognizes your noises from quarantine. You nod, chest heaving, trying to catch your breath.

"Do you need something different to help you finish or keep this up?" He asks, understanding in his eyes.

You groan and jump as his fingers hit your spot again. "Um, actually I think I’d like if you went back to just my clit."

He nods, following your instructions. He rubs careful circles, checking your face to see if he’s getting the pressure right. You start to tuck your face into Ashton’s chest to minimize your reactions but he tenderly pulls you back to lay with him, stroking his hand through your hair to soothe you as he feels you start to shake in his arms. “God, you’re so fuckin’ beautiful like this,” he praises, sucking below your ear. “Let me hear you, baby, you always sound so good when you cum for me.”

His raspy affirmations work in perfect tandem with the vigorous movement of his fingers and you begin to unravel. You breathily cry out his name as your back rises off the bed and your hands fly out on either side of you, one gripping the sheets, the other grabbing for his arm again.

Your hips buck, riding the waves of pleasure surging through your body. Ash watches you carefully, continuing to work you until he detects a slight wince of overstimulation and he removes his hand, deciding to kiss you through the rest of your orgasm. 

Your body finally relaxes and while you’re definitely exhausted, you’re also eager to satisfy him in return. While he presses kisses over your face, whispering quiet praises as you settle, your hands move to explore his body again, one caressing at his chest and abs, the other taking hold of his cock, making good use of the precum he released while playing with you, starting to build momentum again.

He groans, closing his eyes, losing himself in your touch. You can't resist shifting slightly to travel down his body, pecking your way down his stomach, nibbling at his hips before moving your lips back to his cock. You suckle at the head and the throaty "Baby" you receive in return is already worth your trouble.

Ashton traces designs on your back while you suck him off; he constantly murmurs encouragement, which you appreciate because your heart is racing, this is the first time tonight you've felt truly nervous. You've always enjoyed giving head but you've fantasized about blowing Ash for so long you were slightly afraid it might not live up to expectations - for the both of you, since you'd shared many fantasies with him.

You try to pace yourself, not wanting to get greedy and take too much at once, using your hand to make up for what your mouth can't handle yet; every time you pull off to catch your breath and check in with him, he sweetly wipes at your mouth with his thumb and it's much cuter than it should be, considering the situation.

You bob along his shaft a few more times, fluttering your tongue along the underside, finding a particular vein you remember him paying special attention to. Your memory serves you correct and he emits a surprised whimper. He squeezes your shoulder a few times and you pull off curiously.

"Want your mouth on mine when I cum," he rasps.

You quickly reclaim your place laying in his arms, kissing him as requested. It’s just a few tugs until his breathing starts to stutter against your lips. "Fuck, yes, cum for me, Ash," you murmur, letting out a little moan yourself when you feel his cock throb in your hold.

Ash huffs out short belabored breaths as he moves his hand down to join yours, showing you how to work through his orgasm, adjusting slightly so that his cum shoots on to his own stomach instead of yours.

You lightly kiss him through it until he pulls your hand off of him, lacing his fingers in yours, squeezing briefly. You lay back in his arms, basking in the intimacy of the moment.

He pecks your forehead before he regrettably pulls away from you to gesture towards the tissue box on the bedside table. “Would you mind?”

You start to reach for it and then pause, deciding you’re comfortable enough to make a request. “Actually… could I…?” You trail off, raising your eyebrows as you steal a glance at his torso.  

Ashton chuckles out a surprised “OK” and then you’re quickly shuffling down his body to get your mouth on his cum covered skin. He breathes in sharply when he feels your warm breath on him and his stomach flutters under your tongue as you clean him up, blissfully humming as you discover his taste.

Your hair falls in your face and he brushes it out of the way, not wanting to miss a second of what you’re doing. When you’re finished, you sit up and daintily wipe your mouth with your fingertips. You catch a glimpse of Ash looking downright dazed, chest still heaving from his orgasm, eyes glazed over from watching you eagerly volunteer to lick up his release.

With the heat of the moment having passed, you start feeling slightly self-conscious about your boldness. “Was that over the top? I feel like that was too much for a first time, oh my god,” you laugh, hands covering your face nervously. “I just… on our calls, every time I would watch you cum, I would just… think about it…” You shake your head, surprised at your own behavior.

He laughs and reaches for you, kissing the top of your head as you lay against him. "Just the right amount of 'too much', trust me." His voice gets deeper as he leans in to whisper, “I’d thought about it too, for the record. As fuckin’ hot as I’d thought it’d be.”

You lay quietly wrapped up in him for a bit longer and when you move to get out of bed, he grabs your hand, squeezing it gently. “D’ya wanna stay tonight?” He asks, hazel eyes swimming with sweetness and sincerity. “I didn’t want to jinx it and get stuff for breakfast but I was thinking we could order in.”

You smile brightly, leaning in to peck his lips. “You can finally make me your famous coffee you’re always bragging about,” you tease.

“It’s disgusting, you’ll love it,” he grins, playfully pinching your ass as you get out of bed.

The next morning you wake up to the feeling of Ash climbing back into bed beside you. You open one eye and look him up and down suspiciously. “Where have you been?” You murmur.

He settles on his side, pulling you closer to him so your faces are inches from each other, at the edge of your respective pillows. “Ordered breakfast already, had to go unlock the front gate,” he explains, voice still thick with sleep. He strokes your hair and smiles at how you close your eyes, melting into his touch. “Sleep OK, baby?”

You feel your lips curl into a dreamy smile; you already knew you loved hearing him call you that but hearing it in his deep morning voice is fucking transcendent. “To be honest, it’s been so long since I slept next to someone, I wasn’t sure how it was gonna go at first,” you laugh, scooting closer. ��You’re warm, though, which was nice.” 

“Well at least I have that going for me,” he jokes with a mock pout, which you promptly move in to kiss right off his face. You enjoy a sleepy, slow makeout for a few minutes and then he pulls away. 

He takes a deep breath before quietly saying, “Hey… I wanted to apologize for how I acted last night with the whole condom thing. I just got so frustrated because it seemed like we’d finally gotten it right… but that kind of negativity has no place in our relationship. Especially in a situation like that where you were feeling disappointed and vulnerable as well. So I’m sorry.”

“Ash,” you whisper softly. You take in the sight of him: long, dark curls darting out every which way from sleeping, scruffy beard you’re still certain he grew just for you, lips swollen from your kisses. His eyes are gorgeous as always but you can see the concern and remorse behind them and you feel like you can’t put him at ease soon enough. “You don’t have to apologize, it was disappointing and you don’t have to be Mr. Positivity 24/7 if you don’t feel like it. Not for me. I’d rather know how you’re really feeling.” 

“I guess I thought this would be easier. We’ve had so long to think about being together and to plan for it and it’s just been a constant let down,” he admits.

You chew your lip. “Well, listen. Last night still worked out? We still got to be intimate, I still got to experience waking up next to you. Sort of,” you tease. He cracks a smile and you couldn’t be more thankful. “But what you just said, maybe that’s part of the problem. Maybe because we had so much time to think about this, maybe we’ve built it up too much in our minds and we’re just setting ourselves up to be disappointed.”

He nods, mulling over your words. “Like the fantasy was important during lockdown but now it’s tripping us up. If we were in more normal circumstances, we would’ve just slept together without much thought.”

“You really think your game’s that good?” You joke and he pinches you in response. “You’re right, though, I haven’t thought this much about a first time since I was a virgin.”

“So we need to find a middle ground between this idealization we’ve invented and doing it just to get it over with,” he suggests.

“Exactly,” you peck his lips in encouragement. “At the end of the day, it’s just sex. I’ve been looking forward to being with you, not to some super romantic, candlelit lovemaking experience at the end of a dream date.” “Whenever it happens, it’ll be perfect because we’re perfect,” he smiles.

The two of you carry that mentality with you throughout the next couple weeks. You hang out, go on a couple dates and even end up having a spontaneous video sex session like old times. You still burn with desire nearly every time he’s near you but removing that looming pressure to set the mood really does help put you at ease with each other. You feel more connected than ever, like you’re able to focus on him now instead of the experience.

“The drive-ins are opened back up now,” Ashton mentions during your afternoon call. “Think you might wanna catch a movie tonight?”

“God, remember movies? That could be fun,” you agree.

“A buddy of mine went last weekend, opened up the hatchback, put a bunch of pillows down, made it nice and cozy. Thought I might ask if I could borrow his car… we could have a little picnic back there before the movie,” he proposes.

You smile to yourself, loving how excited he gets planning dates. “Better bring your comfiest hoodie for me to steal, we’re gonna get fuckin’ snuggly.”

Ash loves a good reveal so when he picks you up, he’s sure to walk you around the front of the car so you don’t peek in the back of the mini SUV. You have fun teasing him on the way there, adjusting the mirrors, exaggeratedly acting like you’re glancing over your shoulder; watching his eyes go wide and hearing his stern “Hey!” simply never gets old. 

Amused as he is by your game, Ashton knows how to tease you right back and when you arrive at the drive-in, before he gets out of the car to finish setting up, he offers you a kiss and a quiet warning of “Be good” that basically guarantees you’ll stay in your seat until he says otherwise.

After a few minutes, he finally calls you back there and you’re blown away at the elaborate transformation. He pops the hatchback up to reveal the back rows of seats have all been laid flat and a thin layer of memory foam lays across them, covered by piles and piles of blankets. Pillows of every shape and size adorn the setup, along with a small cooler and a tote of movie snacks. In the center of the makeshift bed is the pizza you picked up for dinner and two champagne flutes filled with your favorite soda.

“Ash,” you coo as you climb into the back of the car. “This is so fucking cute? You said your friend put some pillows down, not made an entire love nest back here.”

“Well, I may have embellished a little,” he chuckles modestly, following you inside. “One of our first hang outs was at a movie, so I thought our grand return should be special.” 

You grin as you serve pizza onto each of your plates. “That feels like that was a thousand years ago but I still remember the chill that ran down my spine every time you leaned over the armrest to whisper some comment about the movie.”

“Yeah? I remember being nervous because I couldn’t tell if you were aroused or annoyed, to be honest,” he laughs. 

“Oh it was definitely both at first. You talked a lot and I didn’t pay LA ticket prices to hear your commentary track,” you giggle, playfully shoving his shoulder as his jaw drops. “But then I decided I really liked how it felt to have you pay attention to me.”

“And of course what I was saying was clever and enlightening and added to your cinematic experience,” he adds on with a smirk.

You give him a tight-lipped smile, raising your eyebrows in exaggeratedly mocking agreement. He flicks your leg in response and you yelp, unable to keep from smiling at him. The two of you continue reminiscing and making easy conversation while you devour your pizza dinner. By the time you’re done, the sun is setting.

You lay back on the pillows you’ve propped up and watch intently as Ash gets rid of the pizza box at a nearby trash can. You’d both agreed that the dress code for tonight was ‘comfort’ and he went with a black t-shirt and an endearingly bizarre pair of lounge pants that feature a mountain landscape illustrated across the legs. Unsurprisingly, the t-shirt hugs his chest and biceps, drawing attention to the tattoos up and down his arms that you haven’t been able to keep your hands off of. What is surprising is how the loose pants still cling to his body in all the right ways - pulling across his thick thighs and ass, making you wonder if he’s keeping things in his pockets or if the bulging in front you’re seeing is all him. You squeeze your legs together, pleased that he’s almost back at the car, eager to feel him, even if it’s just for a snugged up movie date.

He flashes you a dazzling smile as he walks up to the car. “What’s got you all dreamy-eyed?” He teases, settling in next to you. You feel your breath hitch as he comfortably rests his hand on your bare thigh, toying with the hem of your lounge shorts, but he doesn’t seem to notice.

“Just happy to be here,” you shrug, leaning over to peck his bearded cheek.

He hums at your affection, leaning his head on your shoulder as he fiddles with his phone, pulling up a radio app so he can tune to the station that will be broadcasting the audio for your screen. “It’s kind of a deadzone out there, there’s only maybe 5 other cars,” he reports, reaching behind you to make sure the bluetooth speaker he’s connected to is on. “Even with all the distancing, we probably didn’t need to park all the way back here.”

“I like it… Gives the illusion you rented out the place just for me, makes me feel special,” you joke. He giggles and kisses your shoulder.

The first movie of your double feature starts a few minutes later and you couldn’t possibly enjoy it more. The two of you trade jokes and snacks; it’s all just so comfortable and lovely, unfiltered and natural.

During the intermission, you decide to get out and stretch a bit before the second film starts. You notice that when you feel Ashton’s eyes poring over you as you bend and twist, you only feel pride and desire, none of the nervousness or timidity you’d felt a few weeks ago.

Once the movie starts, you sit and try to patiently wait and see if he’s going to make a move but by the time the opening credits are over, you can’t help but advance things yourself. You scoot closer but his eyes remain trained on the screen; you decide to more explicitly ask for his attention by nuzzling your face into his neck, pressing a few light kisses behind his ear, scratching his beard with your nails. “I’m having a good time,” you whisper, feeling him grin under your touch. “This was such a great idea, I’m happy you suggested it.”

He slinks his arm around your waist, pulling you closer. “I’m so glad you like it,” he beams at you. “It’s fun to be out in the world again but also still pretty much alone.”

“Alone enough to do this,” you lilt, leaning in to plant your lips on his. Your kiss is gentle but urgent and he reciprocates your energy, cupping your face with one hand and using the other to press you against him, murmuring when you slide your tongue into his mouth. Just when things start to get heated, one of you pulls back and warmly smiles at the other, as if you’re both excited for more but still wanting to appreciate what’s happening in this moment.

You don’t want to disrupt the makeout but you can’t fight the craving you have to feel more of him; you’re finally able to pull yourself away and you lay down on the bed, patting the spot next to you in what you hope is an alluring manner.

He moves closer and you close your eyes, ready to feel his touch. You’re startled to instead hear a grunt of frustration and the shifting of a leather seat. Your eyes snap open and you see him straining to reach into the front seat, trying to reach the keys in the ignition. You’re half a second away from asking what the hell he’s doing when you hear a distant beep and the hatchback slowly begins to close at the end of the cabin. 

He plops himself on the pillow next to you. “Thought we could use a little more privacy,” he explains, grabbing a handful of your ass and using it to pull you closer. “Just in case someone else out there thinks the movie is as boring as we did.”

You start to giggle at his remark but your laughter is interrupted by his lips returning to yours. You both let your mouths and hands do as they please, exploring and enjoying without hesitation and without expectation. You’ve just peeled off his shirt and are sucking a mark at his collarbone when you feel his hand slip up your shirt to palm your breast. You give a light bite to his skin as his fingers pull at your nipple; he groans as you breathily tell him, “You can do it harder.”

A few dozen kisses later, his hand is sliding down your stomach and past the waistband of your shorts. You pull out of his kiss to whine quietly as his long fingers brush through your wetness, only touching your clit incidentally before adding light pressure. 

“Good?” Ashton checks with a smile as your head lulls back and you grab onto him.

“Oh, you know… ‘s alright I guess,” you joke, your attempt at being casual undermined by the way you’re basically grinding into his hand. You let out a long moan and he quickly brings his mouth back down to yours in an attempt to silence it.

As his fingers and lips drive you wild, you find your own hands reaching for his pants and you sigh into his mouth when you feel his cock hard and ready for you. You run your fingers across the straining fabric, teasing him with one hand while the other works to loosen the drawstring. 

You dip your hand inside and grip his cock, choking back a moan when you feel how much he’s already leaked for you. The slickness helps you easily begin stroking him and you shift so you can study his face, wanting to see evidence of the pleasure you’re giving him. As your thumb swipes over his tip and your fingers firmly squeeze his length, Ash’s eyes flutter shut and he bites his lip, quietly muttering your name under his breath.

His fingers slip inside you and you gasp as pumps them in and out, dragging them against your walls, teasing your spot. It’s an intense moment when your eyes lock as his fingers work inside of you while yours glide up and down his cock, the two of you breathing heavy as you basically fuck each other without fucking.

“Ash…” You start, voice wavering.

“Yeah,” he answers in strained agreement. “Do you want --”

“Yes, yes I do. I brought --”

“So did I.”

You break apart from each other and reach for your belongings, chuckling as he pulls a handful of condoms from his backpack and tosses them onto the bed at the same time you pull some from your purse and add them to the pile.

“Well it’s good to know we’re both the kind of people who can learn from their mistakes,” he laughs, pulling you into a delighted kiss. 

An exciting energy fills the car as you both shift around, getting yourselves situated. Ashton pulls back a layer of blankets from the seats in case you want to cover up and bursts out laughing when he turns around to see you’ve already stripped off your shorts and panties and are sitting there pantsless and unbothered.

“We’re parked in the back, there’s barely anyone here and the windows are fogged up,” you shrug, grinning.

You find yourself captivated as you watch him kick his pants off and get up on his knees, wrapping a hand around his cock, pumping it a few times before rolling a condom on. This is really happening. Finally, really happening.

“C’mere,” he breathes, reaching for you. You crawl to him and he cradles your face, kissing you softly. You nibble at his lip as you pull away and the two of you can’t stop smiling.

You climb into his lap, sitting on his legs, staring into his eyes. “Ready?” He asks you, sweetly rubbing your thighs. 

You nod eagerly and lift yourself up to hover over his cock. He slicks the tip through your folds, stopping to tease over your clit a few times and then he’s watching your face as he presses against your entrance. 

Your mouth drops open as you start to take him. He's so thick the stretch is instant, breathtaking and everything you've been dreaming of. His fingers gingerly brush over your hip, encouraging you as you ease him further inside you, rocking up and down until you're impossibly full.

Ash wraps his arms around you, kissing you deeply, hands in your hair then running down your back, then squeezing your ass. You feel completely surrounded by him and it’s overwhelming in the best way. You break the kiss to quickly peel your t-shirt off and then you’re reattaching your lips to his, pressing your chest against his, needing to feel as much of his skin on yours as you possibly can.

“Yes, baby, fuck” he murmurs as you slowly begin to move on his cock. “Feel so fuckin’ perfect… better than I’ve been imagining.”

You respond with a series of whimpers, so caught up in the feeling of finally having him in you. You move cautiously, almost torturously slow until you adjust to his size and then you pick up the pace, his hands firmly gripping your ass, helping you along.

You don’t even have the end goal of an orgasm in mind, you just can’t get enough of the new sensations his cock is making you feel. You shift from rocking to bouncing on him, moaning loudly each time his length hits a new place inside you.

“Ash… your cock feels so fucking good,” you pant, riding him with increasing speed, losing yourself in it. “Can’t believe you’re finally filling me up, baby… fuck.”

Your movements are bordering on frantic when you feel Ashton lightly squeeze your hips, attempting to still them, gently breathing your name. You slow down and look at him inquisitively. The mixture of amusement, desire and warmth painting his face is enough to make your pounding heart skip a beat.

“Can I?” He softly asks. You nod and he carefully pulls out of you and lays you back against the pillows before settling over you. He pecks over your neck and face as he guides himself back inside you. “Think we owe it to ourselves to slow down and live in this for a while.”

He starts to push up so he can get to work but you stop him, tucking his long hair behind his ear, stroking your hand over his beard. “You’re right, just feels so good,” you grin. “Hard not to get carried away.”

Ashton kisses over your palm and begins leisurely moving his hips. He keeps a moderate pace, steady enough that you’re feeling consistent pleasure, feeling something building in your core, but not so hurried that you’re aching to reach the finish line. You hook your leg around his hip and when he pushes it slightly back towards you, he slides in deeper and his groan blends with yours to form possibly the most gorgeous sound you’ve ever heard.

“Jesus, baby… pussy’s takin’ me so well,” he praises, voice sounding more wrecked than you expected. “Such a pretty, giving pussy, baby… what a good girl.”

You shiver at his words, your hands running up and down his back, feeling his muscles flex as he moves above you; you slide your hands down to grab his ass, pulling him closer, willing him even deeper. Ash reaches between your bodies to find your clit, teasing it with just the right amount of pressure to make you moan. The snap of his hips has become slightly quicker and you can tell by his breathing that he’s getting close.

“Ash… so good, yes,” you mumble, reaching down to direct his hand in the pattern you need. He mimics your movements expertly and you start rocking your hips along with him, feeling the stirrings of your climax. “Fuck, like that… god, please.”

“Yeah?” He pants, watching your body start to tense. He takes his free hand and reaches for yours, lacing your fingers, squeezing encouragingly. “Been waiting so long to feel you cum around my cock… come on, baby, cum.”

The first pulse of your orgasm hits you so forcefully you’re shocked he doesn’t react to how hard you squeeze his hand. By the time the next one hits, you’re crying out in senseless mutters from how heavenly this moment feels, how his thick cock couldn’t fit more perfectly inside you as you tighten around it. The sensations feel like they might echo forever as you start to come back down, Ash continuing to move gently in you, reassuring you in a soft voice about how incredible you feel around him.

You pull him down to kiss him breathlessly, satisfied from your orgasm but still hungry for his affection, still needing him on you. “Want you to cum for me, babe,” you whisper. “Let me know how much you love being buried in this pussy.”

Your words drive Ashton’s thrusts to become frenzied as he growls your name, followed by a raspy string of curses. He lets out a deep groan as he fills the condom, rocking into you deep and slow as he works through his climax. His head drops to burrow into your neck and you shiver at how his beard prickles your overstimulated skin. You stroke through his curls, lightly damp with sweat, and whisper in his ear, “So good, Ash… so fuckin’ good.”

He plants an exhausted but sweet kiss on you, only breaking it for you both to whine as he pulls out of you; he carefully ties off the condom while you reach for some of the leftover napkins from dinner to clean yourself up. You sort through each other’s clothes, the two of you grinning like fools the entire time you’re getting dressed.

Ash leans back against the pillows and sighs loudly, gesturing for you to come lay with him. You crawl toward him, making a small detour over the front seat to press the release on the hatchback again. You settle against him as the door opens, the cool night air filling the car again, the long forgotten movie still being projected in the distance.

“Worth the wait?” You tease, giving him a toothy smile.

He holds you tight to his chest. “Fuckin’ hell, baby… as much as we built it up, think we still might’ve undersold it. Like. Goddamn.”

You hum in agreement, closing your eyes, enjoying the afterglow. “I’m glad we just kind of let it happen. That’s probably the best first time I’ve ever had. Definitely the most comfortable.”

“Same. Easy but still just… perfect,” he says dreamily.

You play with his fingers, chuckling, “I was so comfortable I almost asked you to cum on me until I remembered we were fucking in your friend’s car.”

“I mean, it was already questionable for us to have gotten fully naked in his car, we might as well have gone all out,” Ashton laughs loudly, squeezing your hand. “I think Cal had a suspicion this might happen, he left breath mints, condoms and Clorox wipes in the glove compartment.” 

You cackle. “No blacklight, though?”

He pinches your leg and leans in to drown your laughter with a kiss. You gaze at him for a beat, marvelling at how normal everything feels for once. You notice he’s looking at you with a familiar fire in his eyes and you swear even though you were naked with him just a few minutes ago, you actually feel butterflies in your stomach.

You raise your eyebrows at him expectantly and Ash smirks. “Was just thinkin’ it’s for the best anyways. The first time I cover you in cum I don’t want it to be in a dark backseat, I want to be able to see it.”

You quietly groan, a naughty glint in your eye to match his. You sit up and plant a heated kiss on him, pulling away to murmur, “Well. It’s still early… my place or yours?”

————-

Thank you to everyone who signed up for my new taglist, both for the support and the lovely (occasionally hilarious) feedback! If you haven’t signed up yet, the form is linked above! (If your name is crossed out, please check your blog settings, I was unable to tag you)

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[babyboibucky]

Babysitting Bucky - Part 6

Pairing: FATWS!Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 2,217

Summary: You’ve been assigned by the government to keep an eye on the Winter Soldier to ensure that he was no longer a threat to the world.

Warnings: Implied oral (F receiving) wink wink, mention of self-harm

A/N: My works are rarely proofread because I’m a mediocre bitch like that lmfao. Thank you to everyone who signed up to my masterlist and for all the feedback!!! I really love reading everyone’s reactions, reblogs and comments are highly appreciated luv u all xoxo

Also, I can’t tag some of those who requested to be in my taglist, I apologize :(

MASTERLIST

-

You were out of it the entire night of the stakeout; your mind always found its way back to how Bucky looked like when he got out of the shower. It was as if it was imprinted in your brain, how his vibranium arm glistened beneath the dim motel light and how low his towel hung around his waist easily showing off that glorious V-cut that led down to his—

“Jesus Christ.” You huffed out quietly as you laid in bed.

Bucky volunteered to take the first shift so you could get some sleep in before your turn. Given that you haven’t gotten enough rest since your arrival at the compound, you knew better than to argue.

Despite Bucky’s half-naked body plaguing your thoughts, sleep came to you easily.

-

Something hard and cold being wrapped around your arm slowly stirred you from your sleep. You managed to ignore it until you felt the same sensation again, but this time on your legs down to your ankles.

You gasped awake when your legs were pulled apart, “What the fuck?!” You exclaimed upon seeing none other than the Winter Soldier in between your legs.

He looked up at you with dark eyes, something you’ve never seen on him before. “It’s okay, Agent.” He cooed and pressed an open-mouthed kiss on your right leg, eliciting a soft whimper from you.

“What are you—“

“You were moaning my name is your sleep.” He said, voice an octave lower and rough around the edges.

Your heart was pounding so fast that you could literally hear and feel it. This was so wrong and yet you couldn’t bring yourself to shove Bucky away, especially when he was pressing soft kisses towards the inside of your thighs.

“Mister Barnes, I don’t think—“

“Bucky.”

The way Bucky said his name was unlike any other. It was downright commanding and the authority that oozed from his tone made your stomach flutter. You could feel yourself start to get wet at how Bucky’s metal hand pried your legs even wider.

“I want you to call me Bucky when I make you cum. You hear me, Agent?”

You could nod in response, licking your lips in anticipation.

“Agent?”

You hummed again.

“Agent? Hey...”

You felt a couple of taps on your arm before your eyes snapped open. Sitting up immediately, you found yourself staring at Bucky who was looking at you suspiciously.

“It’s time for your shift, Agent.” He said.

You frantically looked around the motel room and then back up at Bucky who looked just as confused at your demeanor. Blood rushed to your face when you finally realized what had just happened.

You had a fucking wet dream about Bucky Barnes. What the actual fuck?!

“Are you...okay?” Bucky asked again.

“Yes. Yes I am okay, Mister Barnes.” You answered quickly with a frantic nod. “Can you...” you said holding a finger at Bucky and avoiding his gaze as you got up from your bed.

“I’m sorry can you just...let me just...I...bathroom real quick.” You stammered and rushed into the bathroom, locking it immediately before resting your head against the door.

You were sweating all over when you faced the mirror and your face was red as fuck. Not only did your dream fluster you, but it turned you on as well and now you needed to find release.

How the fuck were you going to face Bucky now?!

You splashed your face with water hoping that it’d calm you down but the throb was just not going away. Would it be unprofessional to rub one out during a stakeout? You were embarrassed at your thoughts but the dream really did a number on you and you weren’t sure if the throb was something you can ignore.

Just as when you zipped down your jeans, a series of loud knocks made you jolt.

“Agent? Are you okay in there?” Bucky asked as he continued to knock.

“Uhh, yes. I’ll be out in a sec!” You called out in panic.

“Are you sure? Do you need anything? Like...a pad or something...” Bucky asked, voice soft and uncertain as if he was ashamed of his question.

It was a sweet thing for Bucky to do, considering that you jumped out of bed and rushed to the bedroom. You understood why he thought you got your period. You’d take that over him finding out the real reason why you were so flustered.

Deciding to simply ignore how wet you actually were, you straightened up and opened the door before Bucky could even knock again.

“I’m fine, Mister Barnes.” You told him but refused to meet his gaze.

Bucky narrowed his eyes at you, “Are you sure?” He asked again.

You just nodded and moved past him, unable to ignore how he smelled divinely good when you caught a whiff of his scent as you walked away from him. You sat down on the chair he situated right in front of the window and tried to focus on the task at hand.

“You know, you can drop the act, Agent.” Bucky said.

You heard his footsteps behind you, followed by some shuffling and then the squeaking of the mattress. You still refused to look back at him.

“I don’t think I understand what you mean by that, Mister Barnes.” You said and bit your lip when you heard a couple more shuffling from behind.

“You being too formal around us...around me.” Bucky said.

You rolled your eyes, “I’m just being professional. This is a job after all. I’d like to keep things formal.” You explained.

You were doing pretty well at hiding the fact that you were internally screaming. Never have you experienced such distress during a mission. You’ve been tasked to undercover plenty of times now, most of which required you to work with dangerous men and women but you never faltered.

It’s as if Bucky Barnes had a different effect on you and what you hated the most was that he was just being himself and yet you were losing your mind.

“I’m still not giving up on making you call me Bucky.” He said with a soft chuckle.

His statement turned you red from the memory of your dream, when he asked you to call him that before he dove right into your—

“Hey, Agent...” Bucky snapped you out of your dirty thoughts.

You cleared your throat, finally turning to look at him, “Yes, Mister Barnes?”

He was situated on his bed, fluffing out the pillows. “I don’t have to be formal around you, right? I mean...it’s not like I am expected to do so given that you were sent to babysit me. See what I do on the daily...” Bucky was on to something, you could hear the playfulness in his voice.

When you didn’t respond, he merely shrugged before laying down and pulling the covers. However, you swore you saw his lips tug into a smirk before turning around on the bed, facing the wall. You stared at Bucky’s back for a good few seconds before facing the window again, wondering what his question meant.

You tried not to think about your dream. That was all that was, a stupid fucking wet dream.

-

It seemed to be uneventful during your shift since there wasn’t anything suspicious happening at the fruit shop. It was closed and no one came by nor passed by since then. You decided to work on your reports to pass the time; not that you had plenty of things to write down. There wasn’t really anything important to report about Bucky.

You’d been stressing over Secretary Ross’ suggestion to trigger Bucky during the stakeout. That man really wanted you to spite Bucky and get a reaction, you were starting to question the reason why they sent you on this mission.

Your thoughts were abruptly interrupted when you heard Bucky grunt and murmur inaudible things in his sleep. You turned around and saw him tossing and turning in bed; his brows were creased and bullets of sweat began to form on his forehead.

“No...please no...” he murmured as his metal arm began to jolt.

You noticed how Bucky seemed to be holding down his own arm, as if preventing it from further moving. He kept on groaning in his sleep and when he began breathing heavily, you hopped out of your seat and went over to his bed.

“Mister Barnes, wake up.” You felt stupid for simply calling him out instead of shaking him awake.

It worried you that he might not respond well to being touched, especially during a nightmare. However, he kept on grunting and panting that it was starting to worry you.

Carefully, you placed a hand on Bucky’s face and tried to gently soothe him.

“Mister Barnes, come on. Wake up.” You coaxed but to no avail.

Bucky’s movements were becoming violent in the sense that he was restraining himself. His other hand grabbed at his shoulder where the vibranium prosthetic was connected at. He started clawing at it as if wanting to remove it and it was at the moment that you started shaking him awake.

“Wake up, Mister Barnes!” You called out but he wasn’t responding.

Afraid that he might end up hurting himself, you sat down on the bed and took his face in between your palms.

“Mister Barnes, wake up...Mister Bar— Bucky, wake up!”

As if on cue, Bucky’s eyes opened as he gasped awake. His chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. You could see the fear in his eyes as he frantically blinked. Your body seemed to have moved on their own because you realized that your thumbs have been caressing his face.

“You’re alright, Bucky. You were just having a nightmare.” You murmured.

Bucky panted and closed his eyes for a brief moment, as if he was trying to regain his senses. And when he opened them, he was directly looking at you with an expression you couldn’t explain. What you do know was that it made you feel things you’ve never felt before.

Definitely not lust, of course. Something else, something that you chose to push back and ignore.

“You okay?” You asked and and let go of Bucky’s face before standing up to give him space as he sat up on the bed.

Bucky swallowed hard and buried his face i to his palms, nodding his head as a response. You went over to the table and grabbed a bottle of water, twisting the cap open before handing it to Bucky who murmured a soft thank you.

“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” He asked worriedly.

You shook your head, “No, not at all. I was more afraid that you might hurt yourself.” You admitted and walked over to your own bed, sitting down on it.

“How bad was it?” You asked curiously. “Your dream.” You quickly added.

Bucky chuckled before running a hand through his hair, “At this point I couldn’t tell. I’ve gotten used to it. But I didn’t wake up with gashes on my shoulder so it’s not the worse.”

It made you feel bad that Bucky seemed to humor himself and his tendency to inflict pain on his own skin. Despite his nonchalant laughter, you could see the pain and exhaustion in his eyes. How could a man put up to such experience every night?

“Thank you, Agent.” Bucky’s soft voice echoed in the air.

“For what?”

“For waking me up. Not everyone would do that, most would be scared to do so. Who knows what I could’ve done, right?”

You shook your head, “You would’ve done nothing. You are your own person now, you could do no wrong.”

Bucky smiled at you, one that wasn’t forced. It was a smile of genuine amusement. “Careful, Agent. If your boss heard you he might think you’re getting all soft on me.” He teased.

It was a joke of course, you were aware of that. But it also made you realize that there was truth in Bucky’s statement and it scared you. You’ve never felt so personally affected by someone you haven’t known for so long. Perhaps it was because you’ve read too many things about him? Was it out of pity? The guy had been tormented for decades, it really wasn’t that hard to empathize. Whatever the reason was, you knew it was inappropriate for you to feel a certain way.

Bucky must have noticed how you stiffened and quickly spoke up, “I was just teasing, Agent.” He reassured.

“But really, thank you. And it was nice to finally hear you call me Bucky.” He said.

It was a slip of the tongue but not entirely. He wasn’t responding to you the first few times you woke him up. It made sense for you to call him Bucky to wake him up from his nightmare. And although his preferred name felt so much better to say, you needed to hold back.

You got up from your bed and went back to your position right in front of the window, feeling Bucky’s gaze follow you as you moved around.

“I just did what I needed to do. Don’t get used to it, Mister Barnes.”

And just like that, your cold and firm demeanor was back.

-

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Oh, The Lies You Tell - Bakugou Katsuki - pt. 2

Bakugou x f!reader

Warnings: angst, trauma, abuse, betrayal, fluff, slice of life, smut, cursing, manipulation, possible spoilers, physical harm, 18+

BAKUGOU’S MASTERLIST

Ep. Warnings: fluff, childhood trauma, cursing, Bakugou kinda OOC, DADZAWA

Summary: More Bakugou x reader interaction! And Y/N’s first time training with the students and showing off her “quirk.” How will the students react?

Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4 Pt.5 Pt.6 Pt.7 Pt.8 Pt.9

Once you saw the familiar blonde, you smiled. “.....hey back, cutie.” You said with confidence. Bakugou only blushed at the comment and sucked his teeth as he rolled his eyes.

“Soo...you’re my escort?” You flirtatiously asked. You can’t help it, it’s just your personality. Plus, after years of villainous work, you had to learn how to speak with a calm and seductive voice to get your way with your victims.

“Yeah, that means I’m stuck with your dumbass for the next few months. So try to keep up and don’t you dare hold me back.” He ferociously said. You just giggled and went to mess with his unbuttoned shirt collar.

“Whatever you say, Fiesty,” as you examined his clothes, you just had to speak up again. “Whattup with the clothes? No tie, no tuck, no....prestigiousness?” Bakugou scoffed at your question.

“Oh yea? Like you’re one to talk. You completely changed your uniform. You realize the girls in UA don’t dress this-“ you cut him off.

“What? Rebellious?”

“I was gonna say hot.”

“That works too.”

“Suits you real well.”

“Oh, I bet it does,” you smirked. During your time throwing spitfire replies to one another, you realized how close both your faces have gotten. You saw ruby eyes, perfect porcelain skin with the perfect amount of tan, soft but fluffy, spiky, blonde hair, and a smirk that copied your own. As Bakugou was too busy admiring your looks, you gently placed two fingers under his chin.....and flicked his head upwards at the sky.

“Hehe...let’s go, Cutie. You gotta show me my dorm, remember? Cant stand here forever staring at me.” You chuckled to yourself.

“I was not doing any of that shitty woman!” Bakugou yelled. As Bakugou did that, Rumor ran right across him making his balance go all outta wack.

“Heh..yeah, sure.” You said as you walked off with Rumor, petting his head. Oh, this is gonna be fun.

——————————————————————————

On the walk to the dorms, you and Bakugou got to know each other quite well. Just the basics though. Favorite music, favorite foods, personality types, likes and dislikes, all that good stuff. You also both shared a little flirtatious banter, not that you minded, however it threw Bakugou off. When the fuck does he ever talk like that? As you both walked up to the entrance you realized something.

“Hey, you never asked me about my quirk. How come?” You asked as you both continued to walk to the doors.

“Don’t need to. I’ll see all I have to see tomorrow during training.” Bakugou said.

“Makes sense.” You replied.

“Of course it does,” He said as he opened the doors to give you a tour. You were in awe. Growing up, you never really had a home before the league. You slept in benches, jail cells, or straight on the ground outside in the rain. But this? Basically luxury to you, but of course you kept up a chill persona.

“This is the common area, kitchens over there, everyone gets their own bathrooms, the showers are that way, and I’ll show you to your dorm,” Bakugou said, giving you the “grand” tour. As you walked up to your room, you saw how already filled it was...but this wasn’t any of your stuff.

“Didn’t realize you were into music like that.” Bakugou said. When you turned to look at your desk, you saw how large it was and how there was a control panel they used at recording studios on it. Set up with it was a microphone that artist used when recording their songs and there was a mini keyboard and acoustic guitar set up on the side. Then it hit you. You had gone over your interest with Mr. Aizawa, guess he filled up the room to make you more comfortable OR to make it seem like you were a normal kid who actually had stuff. In reality, you had nothing but your villain costume (which you demanded to be kept) and Rumor.

“Umm...not really. I just sing a little and enjoy writing little songs. Nothing special really,” you replied to him. “Uh, could you give me a sec? I wanna change out of this uniform and relax a little.” You said to him.

“Yeah, sure. Dinner starts at 6 so be down by then and come meet the rest of the morons.” He said as he backed out the room and walked on to wherever. You began to explore the room. Rumor took comfort on the soft bed, and you looked at the recording area. It was amazing. You strummed the guitar, taking in it’s beautiful sound and dabbled on the keyboard. You then realized.

“Rumor! What am I gonna change in to?! I literally have nothing!” You said as you ran to your closet, astound when you saw the large amount of clothes, along with a little sticky note.

Enjoy the gift, Y/N! Cant wait to have you in class!

- Ms. Midnight

“Midnight, huh? Then these clothes must be hot as fuck!” You excitedly said. Safe to say you put on a little fashion show for yourself and Rumor. As you put on the clothes and made new outfits, you noticed how she had gone for the typical “baddie style.” Lots of ripped jeans, plenty of casual heels, thigh high boots, leather jackets, bomber jackets, crop tops, tube tops, and of course booty shorts. You also noticed the massive amount of jewelry given to you. Plenty of necklaces and anklets. Very pretty.

Once done with your little show, you and Rumor looked at the clock. 5:30.

“I think we should stay in here. Who needs dinner anyways?” Rumor only growled at you. He knew better. You both needed food and you should go down there and make some friends.

“Oh c’mon! We’ve gone days without food before, why not now?” You saw how Rumor gave you this look of ‘because it wasn’t available then’ and you rolled your eyes knowing your friend was right.

“Fineeeeeee,” you reluctantly said as Rumor gave a happy bark and wagged his tail. You changed into some comfortable clothes and went to the common area.

When walking down there, you saw a spikey read head, a tall black haired boy, a girl with long greenish hair, and then you saw Deku, Kaminari, Uraraka, Todoroki, and Bakugou. While they were talking, the red head took notice of yours and Rumor’s presence.

“Oh! Hey L/N! Rumor! Come join us!” How sweet of him to include Rumor. As you both walked towards a single open seat on a solo couch seat, you saw how everyone had their eyes set on you with a smile.

“Umm....hey.” You nervously let out with a small laugh. As you tried to settle, Rumor placed his head on your lap to calm you down and Bakugou took notice of this.

“Would you idiots stop staring at her like that? She’s obviously kinda nervous.” Bakugou said with his head thrown back on the couch. The red head then spoke up to agree.

“Oh right! Sorry about that L/N!” He said kindly.

“No, it’s no trouble. And you guys can quit the formalities and just call me Y/N. I don’t mind!” You sweetly said.

“Alright then, nice to meet you Y/N! I’m Eijirou Kirishima, this is Hanta Sero, and Tsuyu Asui. I’ve heard you already met these guys, and I’ve also heard you got Bakugou as your escort!” Bakugou growled at Kirishima for mentioning that.

“Yeah! He’s kinda.....bratty?” You teased. Bakugou only looked at you with wide angry eyes and a small blush.

“Ha, yeah. Bakubro can be a brute, but when you get to know the guy, you find out he’s just a big ole softie with rough ways.” He joked.

“I AIN’T SOFT SHITTY HAIR!” Bakugou screamed. The group just giggled and watch the interaction go on. You guys talked and laughed and they got to know about you and Rumor a little better. Finally, a girl with a black ponytail came in.

“Hey guys! Dinner’s ready! Oh! And L/N, we made 2 steaks for Rumor. I hope you don’t mind.” She said.

“Oh not at all! Thanks you guys, that was really sweet of you.” Rumor understood what was going on just by the scent in the air and he was excited. As you all walked to the table and took ur seats, everyone got to talking again. Dinner went on and Rumor was enjoying his steaks.

“Man..what a lucky dog. Steak for dinner.” Kirishima spoke. Everyone chuckled and continued on. The girl with the pony tail, who you learned was nicknamed Momo, walked in with a final pot.

“Okay you guys! This is the final dish! Just some Miso soup to peck on. Kaminari, can you go and grab the ladel?” As the blonde walked away, everyone was excited for the dish.

“Sorry guys, the soup is a little too hot. You should wait for it to cool down before digging in,” Momo said apologetically.

“Oh hey, no worries, I have a solution!” You said as you made a tiny little tornado with you air bending and sent it to the pot of soup on the table to cool it down. The massive amount of steam was clearly decreased and everyone thanked you.

“So your quirk is tiny tornadoes?” Bakugou whispered to you as he was the one sitting next to you.

“No, you dummy.” You giggled until you heard a crack. Everyone looked over and saw Kaminari broke the one and only ladel. Everyone booed and sighed at the loss of miso soup and the poor blonde just apologized with a nervous smile.

“It’s fine you guys, we don’t need a ladel. Who wants some miso?” You asked and everyone raised their hands. So, you used your water bending to pick up the soup give some to all your classmates. Everyone was confused but impressed.

“Okay, what the hell is your quirk?” Bakugou asked in confusion.

“You’ll find out soon, Cutie.”

“Whatever you say, Princess.” He replied back.

It was safe to say the new nickname left you in shock with some blush and you noticed everyone stopped eating to look at you both.

“........huh?!” The group simultaneously said with blank and confused faces as Bakugou yelled at them saying they heard nothing.

——————————————————————————

The next day the students met up with Mr. Aizawa wearing any comfortable gym/fighting attire. Instead of meeting at Gym Gamma, the teacher took his students out to the Sports Festival Areana. The students all buzzed with excitement, most only wanting to know the new student’s quirk and fight style.

“Okay, today we’ll be doing sparring matches. We’ve paired you all up based on skill level and experience. One battle at a time. Whoever makes it to the top 3, those students are excused from classes tomorrow. Get warmed up, take your seats, and I’ll call up the first two fighters.” Mr. Aizawa spoke.

The students were ready. Everyone was, but no one was prepared for you. They never saw your fight style, never saw you use your quirk for battle, never even saw you pick a fight. This’ll be interesting.

“Okay bud, since it’s a 1v1, you’re benched.” You spoke to Rumor. He whined at the fact that he wouldn’t be getting any action but nonetheless, listened to his best friend. “Oh don’t give me that sass, why don’t you go talk to Kirishima or Bakugou while I’m in battle. Fair?” Rumor huffed at you, but you took it as compliance.

“Hey, Princess.”

You turned to who called you and saw Bakugou and what appeared to be his little posse following him. It consisted of Kirishima, Sero, Kaminari, and Mina.

“Oh hey guys. What’s up?” You asked.

“We’re all pumped up to see your quirk! Those tricks you did during dinner last night had us all coming up with ideas on what it could be.” Mina squealed. “I guessed substance manipulation.”

“Telekinesis,” Kirishima said

“Weather powers,” Sero guessed

“Food control!” Kaminari answered. Oh what a piece of work that one is. Everyone looked at the fool with raised brows.

“Heh...guess not.” The goofy boy said with a scratch to his head. You all laughed and you looked towards Bakugou waiting for him to answer.

“Well..what’s your guess, Cutie?” You looked towards Bakugou as he just stared at you.

“Elements,” he said calmly. That shocked you. Who knew someone was gonna guess. Well, he was still wrong considering it wasn’t really a quirk but yeah.

“Just a guess. I’ll figure it out once I see you fight.” He added on.

“Oh yeah! Mr. Aizawa pairs us up based on skill level and experience! We’ll get to know more about how you fight based on your partner.” Mina said.

As the group continued talking, Mr. Aizawa finally came to speak up.

“Okay, listen up. I’m sure you’re all curious as to what L/N is able to do, so our first match we’ll be L/N vs. Todoroki.” Everyone had their jaws drop. Shoto Todoroki?!? He was one of the top students in the class in both intelligence and physical skill. He is an excellent fight with a powerful quirk. How the hell are you supposed to win. You only smirked and walked up to the fighting area. As you walked, a pair of red eyes followed you.

‘What the hell can this chick do?’ Bakugou thought to himself.

As you and Todoroki met in the middle facing each other with Mr. Aizawa in between you both, he spoke up.

“Okay, here are the rules......there are none. The match will begin when you hear the buzzer go off. You’ll hear 3 beeps then a ring, then you can spar. You can use your quirk at any level, do whatever you may please, do whatever it takes to win. The match stops when one of you falls off the square or is knocked out and unable to continue fighting. Understand?” He said while looking at both of you and speaking loud enough for everyone to hear. You both nodded your heads but Mr. Aizawa looked at you with a more stern stare.

“Do you understand, Y/N?” He asked once more. You nodded your head and waited for him to start the match. He walked off the field and went to sit with the class. They all stared in anticipation. Bakugou focused his eyes on you.

Beep. Beep. Beep. Ring!

At the first second, Todoroki used his left side to throw some fire your way. At the sight of the burning flames you only smirked and extended your hand. Everyone watched you do, what they thought was, nothing. They only saw you stand there.

“Y/N DO SOMETHING!” Bakugou screamed in fear of you getting hurt.

When the flames came close enough, you used your fire bending to move them around your body and attack Todoroki. The boy had a quick reaction and sent an ice wall towards you. Perfect. You ran to the ice coming your way and turned it into water, which you used to push back Todoroki, closer to the edge. You sent fire his way and he ran at you, dodging it and attempting to strike you. You flipped away from him. Everyone saw how acrobatic you were. When he came closer once more to punch you, you turned to you side and struck his right shoulder, paralyzing his arm.

Todoroki screamed in shock and pain as he realized he couldn’t feel his arm. He sent more fire to you, in which you used your air bending to put the flames out. You used your earth bending to lift the area that Todoroki was standing on into the air, as he flew through the air, you blasted fire from your feet to get up in the air and blasted him with a gust of wind that knocked him out the area of the square. When he fell to the ground, he hit the field instead of the square, meaning he lost. You fell closer to the concrete but used your fire to slow down before you could crash. Once you landed you looked around for Aizawa.

Beeeeeeeepppppp!!

“That’s the match. L/N wins.” You looked around and everyone still sat in shock. Nobody even clapped. They just looked so....impressed? Kaminari was in the middle of petting Rumor and when he stopped, Rumor noticed the match was over and saw you standing. He howled to cheer for you as everyone ran down to say something. As the crowd came up to you, you were hit with compliments.

As the class continued to hype you up, you saw how Bakugou still just stared at you. You walked over to him.

“Impressed?” You asked.

“......you’re good.” Bakugou still said in slight shock. You only laughed at his answer. You knew he thought more, but you weren’t gonna push him. Every one saw Todoroki get up and limp towards you.

“L/N....that was a great fight. You’re incredibly skilled.” He complimented.

“Thank you Todoroki. And please, I told you to call me Y/N.” You kindly said

“Right, of course...ah.” He hissed in pain. You felt bad for how hard you went on him.

“Here..let me just,” you took the moisture in the air and took water out of it. You used it to heal up Todoroki’s injuries and soothe his pain. “Feel better?”

“Very much, yes. Thank you.” He said.

“No problem, but your arm is a different story. I temporarily paralyzed it with my dim mak fighting style. It’ll take some minutes for it to come back fully.” You explained.

“Okay. That was really impressive. I had no idea there was a fighter like you.” He said once again.

“Whats dim mak?” Kirishima asked.

“It’s the fighting style I use. It’s attacks a person’s pressure points with quick and sharp jabs. It paralyzes a person or just a limb for a good hour depending on how hard I hit.” You replied.

“Pressure points?” Kaminari asked.

“They’re the parts in your body where you’re sensitive and can be detained when they’re hit. With that, it means I know the human body like the back of my hand. Thanks to that I’ve come up with a skill called Chi Blocking.” You explained.

“What’s that?” Mina asked.

“Something you’ll all find out about the next time Y/N fights. Until then, let’s have Todoroki get to recovery girl and let’s continue the matches.” Aizawa said. As everyone went to their seat and Aizawa called up Iida and Aoyama, Bakugou asked you a few questions.

“What the fuck was that?!” He asked.

“What?” You giggled.

“The fucking fire, and the wind, and you moved rocks and you turned his ice into water!!” He spasmed out.

“Uh huh...” you said with a smile and raised brow.

“A-and the flips! You flip and did a bunch of acrobatic tricks, and the jabs, the “dim mak,” it was- I was- it was-.......HUH” he exclaimed.

“Not like Bakugou to freak out over a fight like that. What happened to Mr. Cool Guy?” Denki said.

“You shut your mouth, Sparky!” Bakugou threatened. “Look, all I’m tryna ask is..how and when did you learn all of this? Your quirk is crazy OP, and your fighter skill is insane! Appreciate that bullshit cuz I don’t say shit like that often.”

You just laughed and sighed. You weren’t sure how to answer his question. “Umm,” you started “I don’t really know...I just-“ you were cut off by a mouse. Principle Nezu, you remembered him.

“Mr. Aizawa?” The peppy mouse asked.

“Yes?” Aizawa replied.

“May I speak with you? Concerning your new student and her transfers. There’s been a few complications with her paperwork that need to be solved.” He politely asked.

“Yes, I understand sir. Class, free day. Head back to your dorms but be sure to get in an hour and a half of training today. That’ll be all. Dismissed.” The pro said as he followed the principle. As students gathered to leave and head back to the dormitory, Bakugou stopped you.

“Hey, wait. You still gotta tell me how you learned all this, Princess.” He said.

“What’s there to say?” You awkwardly laughed out. “Uh..I discovered my...quirk.. while doing some work-“

“Work as a child?” Bakugou asked.

“Sorta. I discovered it there and then..I met someone who trained me how to fight like that.” You explained.

“Your parents must be really proud.” Bakugou slightly smiled.

“Umm..yeah, I bet they are.” You said kind of skiddish.

“I can imagine the look on their faces when they saw the pretty impressive quirk you got. My parents were pretty shocked too with mine.” He added on.

“Oh really? You can imagine their faces?” You laughed out nervously. ‘I sure can’t,’ you thought to yourself.

“I mean yeah. Parents usually....” you drowned him out. Parents...parents...parents...PARENTS. You snapped.

“Bakugou!” You said with tone. “I don’t have or know my parents....” you said as he stopped talking and dropped his jaw to the ground. Before he could say anything, you bit your lips, called Rumor to go, and left, leaving Bakugou in regret.

As you ran with slight tears in your eyes, you told Rumor to change into a giant wolf. He shifted and you hopped on him.

“Let’s go to the spot, Rumor.” You said as he took off.

——————————————————————————

When Rumor arrived at ‘The Spot’ you settled. The spot was beautiful. Tall trees, beautiful plants, plenty of adorable creatures, and a gorgeous pond right in the middle of it all. You layed against a tree as Rumor placed you down so you could stop your tears and he transformed back into his wolf-dog form and cuddled up against you.

“No parents...” you said aloud. Although sad you never really got to experience or meet your parents or what it’s like to have them or a family, you were conflicted. Yes it was sad not having parents or a family, but you never had one so it’s hard to tell how you feel about the topic. As the thoughts ran through your mind, your eyes glowed a bright white and when you opened them, you weren’t at the spot anymore.

“Hello....?” You said as you looked around. “Helloooo...?? Anyone there?”

“Welcome back to the spirit world, Y/N.” When you turned to your side, you were in awe.

“Avatar Korra!” You bowed to show respect but then went to hug your spiritual mentor. She embraced you with wide arms. She’s always been the friendly, open, optimistic type. “What am I doing here, Korra?”

“Why do you think you’re here, Y/N?” She said with a sly smile and hands on her hips, but beaming eyes.

“My parents?” You questioned but she only shook her head.

“Your path.” Korra stated.

“My path?” You asked.

“Yes. Or more so, the path you choose.” She corrected.

“I don’t understand.” You said.

As Korra continued to smile at you, you both stood still as the world shifted. You looked around and saw the LOV hideout.

“The league? I don’t understand, what does my path have to do with them?” You questioned, but before she said anything, the world shifted once more and you were infront of UA’s building.

“The school?....Oh, this isn’t some typa light and dark thing, is it?” You asked Korra.

“It is.” She replied back.

“Ugghhhh, we’ve been through this. I’m a bad person. I could never fit in with those goodie two shoes! I’m a member of the league of villains! Not heroes. My path is the darkness.” You stated.

“Is it? You weren’t born into darkness.” Korra said.

“What?....”

“Y/N, you’re not a bad person. Your a villain because of survival. That’s the life that you know. That’s the life that you were kidnapped into.” Korra began.

“Yeah but-“

“But nothing. You know in your heart you would much rather be a hero than some low life villain!” Korra exclaimed.

“No I couldn’t. They’re too good. I could never be that great. Hell, I’m on a plan to take down UA right now!” You said.

“And are you doing that because you want to? Or is it because you think the league is gonna torture you any less if you succeed......you don’t wanna take down the heroes. You wanna be like them.”

“I don’t.”

“You do.”

“I can’t!”

“But you can. You can be all these amazing things, but you’re just on the wrong path with the wrong people. All you have to do is make the choice to leave them. You want to be good, Y/N. It’s in your nature. You’re the avatar after all. It’s your destiny to bring peace to the world.”

Once Korra had said that, a flash came and you were back in the spot. You gasped as you returned and shook your head. You saw it had gotten dark now and figured it was best if you headed back. You woke up Rumor and asked him to become a giant wolf again. He shifted and brought you back to UA. Along the walk, you couldn’t help but think back to what Korra said.

“My path......light or dark...” you looked down at your palms and squeezed them shut in frustration. You huffed and looked ahead, and saw you arrived at the front of the dorms. Standing there, waiting for you, Mr. Aizawa.

“Welcome back.” He said to you.

“Hi...” you blankly said as you attempted to get past him. However, he stopped you from going in.

“Not so fast, we need to speak first before anything else.” He stated

“What about? Because I’ve had a really long and kinda frustrating day, and I don’t need some bullshit to fuck it up even more. I mean, I’m so aggravated that I-“ a piece of paper dangling in your face shut you up.

“What are those?” You asked the hero.

“Adoption papers. I’m now your legal guardian.” Aizawa stated.

“.........HUHHHHH?!?!???” There was no way this was happening. It couldn’t be. You??? Adopted??? By a pro hero??? One that you almost killed???

“Okay, I’m sorry but I don’t need a guardian. I’ve been by myself, on my own, the second I was born. No family raised me, no motherly figure, no nothing. It’s just been me, the spirits, and the villain who took care of me till I was, what, 5? And then kicked me out and left me stranded. I’ve been surviving on my own for over a decade, I don’t need you to look out for me.” You exclaimed.

“Yeah, don’t worry. I won’t be an annoying parent, I’m just your legal guardian. You’re still underage, meaning you’ll need permission for certain things to continue to move forward.” He explained to you. You thought about it, and damn it, he was right. If you wanted to go about this whole thing the legal way, you’d need this.

“.....Fine. Just don’t tell me what to do dAD,” you sarcastically said.

“I’m your guardian and teacher now, I can tell you whatever I want, brat. Now get inside, you’re past curfew.” He said but you only squinted your eyes at him in disbelief. Did he really give you a curfew?

“Student curfew. You live in the dorms, all students have to be in this building by 10:30,” he explained. You just scoffed and went inside with Rumor.

“Guess I have a dad now, Rumor.” You sighed. You never had a father before. It warmed your heart a little, but then you remembered he wasn’t really your dad. Just a guardian. As you walked into the common area, you saw the lights were out. The students must’ve been in their dorms. You walked to the kitchen to grab a snack before heading to bed but you saw Bakugou sitting there with a water bottle in hand. He seemed kinda bummed out. You cleared your voice to get his attention and when he looked up at you, you told Rumor to head to the room.

“Y-Y/N! Hey!..” he said to you.

“Heh..hi Bakugou...Umm..I’m sorry about the whole..running away thing. I just needed to clear my head a little.” You said as you took the seat next to him.

“No, don’t apologize. I’m.....i-.....I’m sorry for pushing you about the whole parent thing. I didn’t know.” He apologized. You only shook your head and stared at your hands before speaking up.

“It’s fine. How could you know? After all, I’ve only been here for 2 days. Besides, you didn’t really upset me, it’s just..I feel kinda outta place when the parent topic comes up. Guess I just freaked out,” you saw the look on his face. Disappointment. Is he that upset that hurt you? Or at least thought he did? “B-but don’t worry! I’m fine! For real! I’ve been parent-less for almost my entire life so it doesn’t sting like that. Hehe..wow Umm. Depressing. You know I feel like I’m rambling, am I rambling? Should I stop? I think I should shut up, or maybe I’m just gonna go now that I-“ Bakugou placed his hand on yours which shut you up real quick. You looked up at his face as he stared into your eyes.

“You can talk to me about it you know. It’s clear you wanna get some things off your chest and I’m really interested in you.” You raised your brow at that last sentence. He realized what he said and quickly tried to correct himself.

“I mean- uh- not like that, or um it could be like that! It could be, if you’re cool with that. But it’s not, or maybe, i don’t know, it’s not it’s, I was, it was, I- yeah I’m gonna stop talking now.” He cleared his throat at the end of that, settling down. You giggled and reassured him.

“No, no it’s fine. I really don’t mind. Umm, what do you wanna know. I’m fine with sharing anything.” You said.

“Okay, let’s just continue with this parent topic then....how were you raised?” He asked. This scared you. You had to be real careful with your choice of words or else your cover would be blown.

“Okay, let’s see. I was born in a place-“

“Oh really?” He teased.

“Shuddup,” you laughed and playfully hit his shoulder.

“And that place was..very private. Very unknown, but my parents Umm, i don’t really know what happened to them. The earliest thing I can remember is that..someone found me and told me my parents were gone, they weren’t my real family, they just took me in because they couldn’t let a baby die, and raised me till I was 5.” You said.

“And then?” He asked.

“You sure? It just goes down hill from here.” You warned. But he only nodded and asked for you to continue. You looked at your hands in your lap before continuing.

“I was kicked out. Left on the streets. I slept on park benches, in alleyway tunnels, on rooftops of buildings. I pawned for food and..” you didn’t know if you should admit the next part. But Bakugou held onto your hand and asked for more.

“And then?” He questioned.

“.....I did what I had to do to survive. I committed crimes, but I had to live. I was just a child and didn’t know what to do. If you look at me any different for what I did though, I won’t judge you.” You said. He squeezed your hand almost as if he was telling you he understood. He nodded and pleaded for more.

“After 2 years on the streets, a cult found me. An evil and dark cult. They used their quirks to torture people they kidnapped and made them slaves to create weapons. They kept us in cells and chains, working 24/7. It was there that I learned of my abilities. I found out I could control the 4 elements and their sub-elements. There, I also met a master. He was old and couldn’t fight anymore, but he saw the potential in me and taught me dim mak in the shadows. After a year of being enslaved there and secretly training, these people (the LOV) came in and killed the cult members and stole some of their weapons and destroyed the rest. Once I saw them taking down those horrible people, I used my abilities and they saw. I guess I impressed them and they recruited me to join their little family. I’ve been with them ever since. But then I met Mr. Aizawa and he asked me to join UA. Since the group I joined wasn’t really family, I didn’t need their permission. They were more like friends and they were even the ones who pushed me to come here.” You finished up your little story and saw Bakugou looked at you with worry in his eyes.

“And now I’m here! Sitting in a dim kitchen at UA with a cute boy at 11:00 p.m.” you said trying to cheer up the mood. “Bakugou...”

“You’re not..affected? By everything you’ve been through?”

“You don’t have to feel bad!”

“But I do! You’re here! You’re not...”

“Dead?” You teased.

“Basically!” You laughed at that.

“Y/N, I’m serious!” Bakugou tried to say.

“And so am I! You don’t have to be upset. I value everything I went through, all the good and bad.” You explained.

“Why?” He asked.

“Because it made me the kickass baddie that I am today!” You said flipping your hair and laughing. “Seriously though! Everything I went through made me who I am. It’s made me stronger, more independent. It lets me know I can handle myself. So I’m good, you don’t have to worry.” You said grabbing onto his hand again and reassuring him. He used his thumb to rub at your hand and enjoy the feeling.

“You are...probably the strongest person I’ve ever met.” He said calmly with a small SMALL smile on his face as he looked at you.

“I’ll also bet that I’m also the only “criminal” that you look like you wanna kiss.” You playfully said.

“Maybe I do...” he said with a smirk and soft voice as he leaned in closer.

“And maybe I’ll let you..” you said as you leaned in. As you two got closer and closer, your eyes filled with daze and the world around you two fell apart. It was just you and him in that moment. Until it was ruined. Just as your lips were about to touch, Mr. Aizawa came in.

“Hey!” He shouted

“GAH!” You both screamed and jumped away from each other with a blush adoring both your faces. Aizawa walked up to both of you, shoving the adoption papers in bakugou’s face.

“No smooching with my newly adopted daughter!” He said with a stern voice.

“I’m not your daughter! You’re just my guardian and it only happened like a few hours ago!” You stated.

“You can’t tell me who I can and can’t kiss, old man.” Bakugou said.

“Listen you little punk! I outta...” then Bakugou and your teacher were now going at it, yelling over each other and saying whatever, completely leaving you outta the conversation. You let out a little gust of wind to shut them up and get their attention.

“Okay, it’s late, tomorrow is Saturday, so you two won’t have to see each other, MAYBE, for 2 days. Can we just let this whole thing cool over?” You asked.

“We can, I’m just annoyed at the fact that this dynamite stick was gonna steal my daughter away from me!” Aizawa complained.

“I wasn’t stealing her, I was-“

“STOLEEEEEEE” Aizawa corrected and Bakugou just sucked his teeth and looked around.

“Whatever, can we just let it go?” You asked again. They nodded and you all went your separate way. Except for the fact that once Aizawa was outta sight, Bakugou went running right back to you and walked you to your dorm.

“Sooo..about that kiss.” Bakugou said. You just giggled and opened the door to your room.

“Goodnight, Bakugou,” you said but as you were about to walk in, he said something else.

“Katsuki.”

“Huh?” You said looking back at him.

“Katsuki. It’s my name. You can call me Katsuki.” He explained.

“Wow, trust me that much?” You teased.

“You trusted me enough to open up, this is the least I could do.” He said. You smiled and corrected yourself.

“Okay then...goodnight, Katsuki.” You said smiling. He pulled you in by your waists and held you close as he placed a soft kiss to your cheek.

“Goodnight, Princess.” He said and walked off.

A/N: Ok Cubs! That was the second part and in here we got to see the spirit world! We’re intorduced to Avatar Korra and we’ve discovered Y/N is the present avatar! How do we feel about this? Good? Bad? Let me know!!! I hope your enjoying the story so far. I know it’s kinda weird and all outta disorder but this is my personal day dream that I wanna bring to life that I’m hoping some of you enjoy. It’s just a jumble of avatar elements with a BNHA/MHA base. Please be patient with me! I know this is a Bakugou x Reader fic but it is also a story. It’s gonna grow and build and once we establish the basics, more Bakugou x Reader issues will show up along the way! I hope you’ve liked it so far! See you next time! 💗🧸

[laurie-stark]

Get up and get out

Summary: Sort of part two to Unwanted. A year after fighting in Germany, y/n has to deal with the insufferable Peter Parker being around the house all the time. 

Pairings: Peter Parker x stark!reader, tony stark x daughter!reader, Natasha Romanoff x daughter!reader. 

Warnings: swearing, angst? i guess? mentions of blood. mentions of panic nightmares 

A/N: Again, I want to make it very clear so there isn’t any confusion: Y/n is Tony’s biological child, however, being raised also by Natasha, Steve and Pepper, she calls them Muma, Pops and Mom. Hopefully that makes sense LOL oh and also i’ve never written like...kiss scenes before so just go with it okay?

He was here again. Third time this week that he has come barging into my home and taken over my training center. Okay, to be fair, it was not my training center but still. Peter Parker will never stop being a pain in my ass. Ever since that stupid trip to Germany, he has been coming over and training for hours, or working with Dad. Three times just this week I’ve had to endure listening to Peter talk with his stupid little voice and walk around my house like he owns the place. Who does he think he is? And every time I have to sit through another dinner of Dad blabbing on and on about what a miraculous boy he is.

               “Really y/n, I think you two would be great friends,” I rolled my eyes as I picked at my dinner. The rest of the family ate in silence around the table. The last thing I wanted to do is spend more time with stupid Spider-boy. On the afternoons when he was here, I tried my best to stay out of his way. I would stay on my floor and he stays on his. Simple. I don’t need a new friend.

“…And he’s coming by again tomorrow, so I was thinking of showing him A.P.R.I.L. if you wanted to join us-” Dad continued.

What the hell? I thought. “No!” I snapped. “No way. A.P.R.I.L. is mine, I don’t want him messing with her.” Dad frowned at me. The rest of the table looked up in my direction. My shoulders tensed up as I faced my father. A.P.R.I.L. is my baby and I was ready to go toe to toe with him if I needed too.

“What do you mean no? I thought you’d be excited to share that with him,” he started.

“Well I’m not, so back off,” I sneered. The shift in his expression made me want to bite my own tongue. “Please.”

“I seriously do not understand what your problem is. You’ve been complaining for years how there’s only adults but the second a kid your age comes by you’re all “oooh no don’t talk to me Peter!””

I scoffed. “Sorry, I guess I just don’t want to bother you and your new best friend.”

“There it is. Why are you so jealous of him? He’s not that cool. He hasn’t made a fully functioning A.I at the age of 15. He just spits sticky stuff out of his fingers. Honestly y/n, you’re making zero sense right now.”

“Whatever, I’m over this,” I said, pushing my chair back from the table. I grabbed my untouched dinner plate and headed towards the kitchen. “I’m not hungry. And don’t show him A.P.R.I.L., I mean it!” I dumped my plate in the sink and marched right down the hall towards the elevators. My dad was right. I wasn’t making any sense. Ever since I made A.P.R.I.L I’ve used every excuse I could find to shove her down people’s throats. Anyone who would listen to me, I would tell them. Tell them all about how I programmed her to have realistic personality. How she’s running through the walls of this place, through my room, even inside the bracelet I never take off. All I knew is that I didn’t want Peter Parker anywhere near her.

I shut the door to my hard, and flopped onto my bed. A.P.R.I.L. reminded me that slamming the doors usually results in a punishment. I acknowledged her with a half-hearted grunt. I started programming A.P.R.I.L. when I was thirteen. Or rather, reprogrammed. A.P.R.I.L. was made from an older prototype version of F.R.I.D.A.Y. The base stuff was already there, I just moved some things here, recoded there until she was perfect. I don’t know why I got so defensive about Peter meeting her. Or why I had to pick another fight with my dad.

It was easier these days. To fight him, I mean. I suppose I never got over the whole “Peter is better, I choose him over you, blah, blah” thing as much as I thought I did. So, I would pick fights. Fighting over Peter was the simplest way to go, considering he was the reason I was so angry in the first place. Sometimes we would fight over him, other times we would fight over silly things. Like how I keep forgetting not to put my coffee grounds in the garbage disposal. Most of the time it was all just bickering that would blow over in thirty minutes, give or take. Sometimes it was explosive, like today.  I took in a shaky breath and sprawled out across my sheets. Sometimes this family is a fucking nightmare.

Dad didn’t come by this time. It threw me off for a second because he always comes by. Even if it’s six hours later and neither of us should be awake, he still comes by with a box of milk duds that we share in silence before one of us apologizes first. That’s how we work. When it finally sunk in that he was not planning on coming, I put A.P.R.I.L. on the job. I figured perhaps he left the compound, maybe took Mom for a nighttime stroll.

“Your father is on floor B, Miss Stark,” A.P.R.I.L. informed me.

“Jesus A.P.R.I.L., how many times have I said to cut the formalities,” I muttered.

“My apologies, y/n.”

Floor B. What the hell is he doing on floor B at…12:00 in the morning? Floor B is strictly for members of household and other Avengers. There are a billion different training rooms down there. Weight rooms, boxing, a huge pool, stuff like that. Not to taint his image, but I can safely say the last time my father willingly worked out for fun was probably before I was even born. Why was he down there? Unless…

“A.P.R.I.L. who else is on floor B right now?” I asked. “Throw it on the hologram, would you dear?

The sounds of the hologram starting filled the room. A.P.R.I.L. pulled up the security map of floor B, like I’d asked. There was my dad, floor B in the boxing room of all places. Pops and Sam looked to be going at it in another one of the combat training rooms. My confusion only rose when another nametag popped up on the screen. My brows furrowed.

Peter Parker

What was he doing here? Why was he boxing? Why was he not in his own home at midnight on a Thursday? My mind was spinning with questions. A knock at my door startled me.

“Come in…”

Natasha popped her head through the doorway. “Hey there…whatcha doing kid?”

I swiftly swiped away the hologram screen and sat up straight. “Nothing. What’s up?”

“Well, we’re getting a little worried about you,” she said. We being everyone else at the table who had to witness my brawl with Dad. She sat down beside me. “You haven’t fought back like that in a long time and I’ve noticed you’re fighting with him a lot recently. You want to tell me what that’s all about?”

I wanted too. God, I wanted too. I hadn’t told anyone what my father said to me that day after the airport, not even my mom. But it didn’t matter. I’d get over it sooner or later, so there was no point troubling anyone else with my problems…right? My eyes started to well up but I blinked away the tears. “No. Everything’s fine,” I put on a smile.

Natasha tucked me in under her arm. “Okay then. Maybe tomorrow.” That was Muma for you. She never pushed me to talk but knew I would come around at some point. In the meantime, she just held me. I cried into her embrace. She let me cry into her shoulder for a long while, until I was empty. After a time, I let go and she got up, giving me a kiss on the head before wishing me a good night.

I rubbed my hands over my face, brushing off any remaining tears. “A.P.R.I.L. bring the hologram back up please.”

“Are you sure y/n?”

…

“Yeah.”

Peter was still in the boxing room but my father was not. Upon further digging, I found the nametag reading Tony Stark on my floor. He’d gone to bed. I pondered to myself as to whether or not I should venture downstairs. What is the worst thing that could happen? Peter is secretly a Hydra spy and kills me? No, I shook my head. Don’t be ridiculous. Another minute passed and I’d made up my mind.

“A.P.R.I.L. engage “I am definitely here”,” I commanded.

“”I am definitely here” protocol engaged. Volume minimized to 5% and your tracking tag will be pinned to this room,” A.P.R.I.L. responded. “Good luck on your mission small agent.”

“Oh shut up,” I chided. I closed the door to my room as softly as I could. It was nearly one in the morning, most of the hall would be asleep. Or at least they should be. The hallway was silent, except for the soft noise of my socks padding along the floor. I cursed myself for looking so ridiculous. If anyone caught me, I could easily say that I was just getting a midnight snack. Not sneaking down to spy on Spider-bitch. Boy. Whatever. Sneaking added to the excitement.

I made it downstairs all in one piece. Steve and Sam nearly passed me in one of the halls, but I had ducked into a briefing room. I could totally be a spy. Maybe I’m a Hydra spy. I thought. And they sent me here as a baby to take down the Avengers from the inside. What was I going on about? This was why I should really be in bed, I was clearly delirious. Once again, distracting myself in my thoughts led to me getting startled. I hadn’t even realized I was outside the boxing room. I would have walked right in if not for the handy wall that I smacked into.

Peter was in the ring, practicing his punches. He’d lowered down one of the punching bags from the ceiling and it was close to ripping at the seams. He was really going ham on it. The questions piled on. So, he came over to my house at midnight to…train? Something he had all afternoon today to do? God, he was weird. I suppose I didn’t quite know what I was going to get myself into when I finally walked in to confront him.

“What are you doing?” I asked, arms folded tightly across my chest.

Peter started and looked down at me. Sweat was dripping down his face. He looked exhausted. “Training,” he said bluntly. He returned to treating the punching bag like it had run over his dog.

“At one in the morning? And after you spent like six hours today doing just that?” I was not letting him off that easy. Peter ignored me and continued punching. “Your form is shit.” I mocked.

That made him stop. “Funny coming from the girl who never leaves her room. When have you ever trained? Like ever?”

“I still beat your ass.”

“Yeah like, a year ago when I was barely an avenger.”

I rolled my eyes. “You still aren’t.”

“What do you want?” Peter spat.

I shrugged. “Dunno.” I stared him down with a smug look on my face.

“You are always such a bitch, you know that?”

I faked a pout. “Aw…bite me.”

Peter was chewing the inside of his cheek in anger. “If you’re going to stay here and pester me, you might as well get a few punches in.”

“And why would I do that?”

“Consider it a rematch.”

I studied his physique for a moment. He’d grown a lot since Germany. He’d also trained a lot since then as well. I had done little of either. I knew that entering that ring would probably end up with me losing my dignity and maybe even a tooth. But I was not going to let him stand there with his stupid, sweaty face and get away with it. This is not a good idea, I thought as I took off my socks. I moved the ropes and stepped into the ring, standing a foot in front of the boy.

“I’ll still win.”

“No powers either.”

“Deal.” Not like I’ve touched my powers since…since the incident.

Peter took his stance and I did my best to mirror him. I realized in that moment that I had no idea what I was doing. I didn’t know the first thing about boxing. Or sparring. I didn’t know how to fight without my powers. Oh, sweet Jesus.

We kept our distance at first, fists up. He threw a few punches and missed. I followed in suit. I finally got the first hit, a nice throw to his chest. He took it like a champ and didn’t flinch. Or rather, I couldn’t hit for shit and it didn’t hurt. He threw a punch to my left, only to miss on purpose and punched me square across my jaw. Ow. I chuckled lowly. The taste of blood filled my mouth from the fresh cut on my lip. I wiped the back of my hand across my mouth. All I could see was white rage.

Forget form, forget rules, forget everything. I lunged at him with everything I had. Lunged at him for all the bullshit he had brought into my life. For all the bitter things I had to hear my father say that weren’t even Peter’s fault. He was clearly not expecting my attack because we both fell to the ground. We fought tirelessly on the mat. He was physically stronger than me, so by default he was winning. He wrestled me until I was pinned under him. One hand was pinning my hand above my head, the other arm pinning down my body. In any other circumstances I would be amused to find myself in such a scandal. I looked in his eyes briefly and I could already tell he thought that he was winning. If there’s one thing I learned from Nat, it’s to always step on their moment. I hooked my leg around his knee and used all my force to flip us over. I had him pinned down now, my hair falling around my face. We were both breathing heavily.

“Told you,” I taunted. I was mentally preparing him to punch back but he didn’t. He snapped his arms out from under me and shoved me off him, hard. I fell back against the mat. He rose to his feet, brushing his hands off on his pants. “What the hell?” I exclaimed. I jumped to my feet while his back was turned to me and gave him a taste of his own medicine. He stumbled a few steps after I pushed him. Slowly, he stretched back up to reach his full height.

“You’re right,” he turned to face me and extended a hand. “Shake on the truce?” I took his hand, accepting his surrender. Only, he was not really surrendering. The moment my hand touched his, he yanked me towards him. I tripped over my feet and fell into him. My chest crashed onto his. The world was a blur as he grabbed me with force and spun us around, so he could push me up against the ropes of the ring.

“Stop, Peter get off me you bitch!” I fought back. I flailed my whole body around, trying to break loose. One hand reached up to grab the back of my head, pulling my hair and forcing my head back. I froze. His face was dangerously close to my exposed neck. His shift let my opposite arm break free. I took a breathe and reeled it back, ready to smack him in the across the face. He caught my wrist in time without taking his eyes off mine.

He lowered his head to whisper in my ear, “I win.” His breathe trickled down my neck. He had won, but he wasn’t moving. One hand was still in my hair, the other was pinning me against the ropes. His chest breathed heavily against my own. His grip on my head loosened slightly and I was able to look him straight on. He had that same smug look pasted across his face. His eyes moved from mine, trailing down my face, my neck, my body, before they settled on my lips. I momentarily lost the ability to breathe.

He kissed me hard. I tensed up slightly before giving into him completely. It tasted like blood and sweat and I felt like I was losing my mind. He pulled me closer, if that was even possible and claimed my mouth with his until my knees gave out. A newfound wave of warm washed through me. The hand in my hair gave a slight tug and my lips parted while that same hand moved to cup my jaw. For all I knew, the entire compound was wide awake and watching but I did not care. I brought my fingers to his hair, tugging at the ends. I smiled cunningly when he groaned into my mouth. He kissed me greedily and fully. Like he hated me. And I hated him.

We broke apart, limbs numb and chests heaving. The moment had passed, and our actions sunk in. What. The. Fuck. He lifted the ropes for me, and I climbed out of the ring. My head was still spinning from that kiss and my lip stung. Consequences I suppose, for kissing someone with a busted lip. I silently pulled my socks back on and Peter handed me a towel. Neither of us said another word. I left the room and didn’t look back. I could hear him behind me, but I was in no rush to have to look him in the eye ever again. What just happened?

 I woke the next morning to A.P.R.I.L. alerting me that “Father Dearest” was outside my door. He came in and sat on the edge of the bed. We both stayed quiet for a while.

I spoke first. “Where were you last night? You didn’t come by after…” I let my words trail off.

“I was going to, I swear. But then something came up with Peter and I had to go take care of that,” Dad answered.

I frowned. “Typical. Peter over your own flesh and blood, right?”

Dad inhaled sharply like he was going to bite back, but changed his mind. “That’s not true and you know it. Peter is…he’s going through something and I knew how to help him. Not everything is about you, you narcissist,” He said, joking at the end.

I had to push down my own smile. “Yeah well where do you think I got it from?” I sat up and leaned into my father. He brushed a hand down my back. “So, what’s wrong with Peter then?”

“I really shouldn’t tell you, it’s personal.” I looked up at him with my doe eyes. He rolled his eyes and sighed, nodding a silent defeat. I felt like I was nine again and he was gossiping with me about the latest secretary. Like every fight had been forgotten in this moment. “He’s been having some nightmares ever since DC. You remember the ones we used to get after Loki?” I nodded. “Now you, you always amazed me at how you handled those. But for me and Peter, we needed a different outlet. So, I let him come over in the middle of the night. I didn’t think anyone would notice.” I hummed in response, not sure what to make of that information. I mean, I kind of felt bad for the guy. He was still a bitch, but those dreams suck. No one should have to deal with them. “He really isn’t as bad as you think, you know.”

“Yeah,” I hummed. “I think you’re right.”

tag list:

@runawayolives @ creation-magician @ eridanuswave @ markhyucksmells @ beep-beep-losersclub

[ashdumpsterpile]

Ohmygod YES Susan Pevensie is awesome please talk to me about Susan i want to know everything you have to say

Literally THANK YOU for asking me this bc Susan Pevensie is a character I never get asked about and I have So Many Opinions.

I'm going to start by saying that Susan used to be my least favorite character in the series. This goes for the books and the movies. Some of it was for personal reasons--she reminds me of a couple of annoying ppl I know irl--but it was also bc I watched Prince Caspian which shoehorned her into a relationship with Caspian which I hated.

HOWEVER. I ended up rethinking this position after interacting with Susan fans and realizing that there are so many wonderful things to love about her!

(putting under the cut bc this got long)

Things Ash Loves About Susan Pevensie

Aight I'm not going to do a formal analysis yet on her, but instead rant about some of the unrelated things I adore about Susan Pevensie.

Susan the Archer

Look we all love archery here. I don't have anything more to say.

Okay, I actually do have more to say. I love the fact that Susan is a complete badass with the bow. You get the general impression that she's one of the royals in charge of public relations, traditions, foreign policy, etc. and yet she's the most competent archer in the series. One of the few things I liked about the movies is how they didn't downplay this. They actually let her be a badass and show off her skills.

Also the part where she kicks Trumpkin's ass was awesome.

Susan the Gentle

Susan being the most passive Pevensie was something I definitely underappreciated as a teenager. I think my non-ability to see past "I'm not like other girls" narrative and the combination of Susan being described as the most traditionally feminine woman in the Narnia series is what initially turned me off from her.

HOWEVER, now it's one of my favorite attributes! I love that Susan is a badass and the most beautiful woman in Narnia. She has hair down to her feet, every man and woman in the kingdom want to fuck her, and she's still a fucking badass who will not hesitate to kick your ass.

Susan the Sister

Most of my thoughts of Susan as an older sister mostly stem from my own personal headcanons, but she is an awesome sister to her siblings. She's Peter's voice of reason, Edmund's sass partner, and Lucy's big sister.

Susan the Mom-Friend

She is a literal mother-figure for Corin.

"[...] the most beautiful lady he had ever seen rose from her place and threw her arms round him and kissed him, saying: "Oh Corin, Corin, how could you? And thou and I such close friends ever since thy mother died. [...]"

-The Horse and His Boy, 33-34

Most everything I have to say about this ventures into headcanon territory, but I love the idea of Susan basically adopting Corin after his mom dies. The way she trusts Cor--who she thinks is Corin in this chapter--is really sweet and I wish we could've seen more of that relationship.

Susan the Flawed

Something I notice from the fandom is a lot of people who hate Susan tend to because of her flaws. On the other hand, most Susan stans like to wave away these flaws and blame C.S. Lewis for being misogynistic or Aslan for being a "cruel god" and ignore the fact that she is a deeply flawed person.

Susan gets something of a "reverse redemption arc" in The Chronicles of Narnia. This makes her not only a fascinating foil to Edmund--as both are analytical, logical people--but an interesting character by herself.

She starts out in TWW as very skeptical of Narnia and it's whole deal and also very condescending to Lucy throughout. She ultimately does admit that Lucy was right and does get on board with the whole prophecy at the same time Peter does, and ends the book being crowned "the Gentle Queen."

In The Horse and His Boy, she has a very interesting dynamic with Edmund and in even more interesting relationship with Rabadash. They don't even interact on-page with each other, but it's highly implied that she was interested in him when he was a guest in Narnia. His behavior obviously changed when she visited him in Tashbaan, but you have to wonder what their dynamic was like before for her to travel all the way to his home when relations between the countries were strained at best.

Prince Caspian is where the cracks start showing through. Susan has lived an entire life as an adult in Narnia, gets thrown back to England with her siblings, and is yet again in Narnia as a child. This book is what really emphasizes her one fatal flaw: convenience.

(Put a pin in that thought, I'll get back to it.)

Susan denies once again that Lucy saw something that the rest of them can't seen. She continues this narrative until every other sibling finally acknowledges Lucy in the right and only then does she apologize.

The last mention of Susan is in The Last Battle, where all of her flaws rise up against her in the worst way possible. I have a lot of controversial opinions on this that I'm going to address later, but I just want to say that Susan's reverse-redemption arc is something I actually like about her.

(There is also evidence that Susan does get a full redemption arc, just as Edmund and Eustace did, but C.S. Lewis was pretty much done with The Chronicles of Narnia at the point and instead encouraged fans to write their own version of how that went down.)

Okay, back to convenience being Susan's fatal flaw. So the one thing that comes up time and time again in the series is that Susan is very focused on material comforts. I believe it's implied that she's vain, and it's canonical that her own personal comfort spurs her to make decisions.

"[...] I really believed it was him — he, I mean — yesterday. When he warned us not to go down to the fir wood. And I really believed it was him tonight, when you woke us up. I mean, deep down inside. Or I could have, if I'd let myself. But I just wanted to get out of the woods and — and — oh, I don't know [...]"

Prince Caspian, 81

Prince Caspian has the strongest examples of Susan doing this, but certainly there's evidence elsewhere. There are a lot of fans who are distressed by this, claiming that Aslan and the others are too hard on her and shouldn't judge.

Honestly, I like that she's written with this flaw. Not only is it very relatable--(my own personal comfort and convenience is something I highly prioritize too)--but it humanizes a character who otherwise is ridiculously op and basically the Helen of Troy of the series. It may sound like I'm using this as an excuse to rant, but I really wouldn't have her any other way.

Susan As Portrayed by Anna Popplewell

Movie!Susan is a fucking delight.

She's sarcastic and badass and awesome and I could spend hours heaping praise on Anna's acting and her portrayal of Susan, but I can already tell that this post is going to be long so, I'll just stop here.

(10/10 want to be stabbed by her tho.)

Personal Headcanons

Let's talk about my fanon thoughts. I have many.

Susan is Aro

There's canonical evidence for this! Susan is a character who is heavily pursued by suitors everywhere, and even lets herself be courted by many of them, but chooses not to settle down. Even when she gets back to England and is described as only having interest in parties and material things, boys aren't mentioned.

I like to think that in The Horse in His Boy Susan was interested in Rabadash at first because he was a brilliant conversationalist. Nothing she says about him implies romantic interest, before and after she realizes the truth of his intentions.

Susan and Edmund Were Best Friends

This might be my love for The Horse and His Boy showing itself, but I think Susan and Edmund were thrown into circumstances where they interacted the most with each other.

Edmund is the ruler in charge of politics. Susan is the ruler in charge of Cair Paravel's public image. I imagine they spent time as ambassadors to other countries and planning royal functions.

They're also the most level-headed and logical out of their siblings, so they probably found a lot in common.

Susan Fancast

I literally just said I loved Anna's potrayal of Susan's (and I love what they gave us of older Susan too in LWW!), but I read the books in 2008 and my parents didn't let me see the movies bc I was like...nine years old and they thought it would be too scary.

So I had to headcanon my own interpretations.

Queen Susan the Gentle:

For some reason Merlin wasn't too scary for me to watch and I fell in love with Katie McGrath in like. Two episodes so. (On an unrelated note, I also fancast Bradley James as Peter at the time.)

Anyway, fanon Susan is basically Morgana Pendragon pre-evil arc. Sassy as hell, hot as fuck, and can kick your ass.

Unpopular Opinions

Yeah, feel free to skip this part if having controversial fandom opinions is a deal breaker for you.

The Problem With Susan Isn't Actually A Problem

I'm about to start so much discourse in the Narnia fandom, but C.S. Lewis's choices with her in The Last Battle weren't misogynistic. Bear in mind, I'm not saying that all of his writing choices in the series were A++ or excusing away certain racist/sexiest bits, but it's honestly baffling to me that people are so up in arms over Susan's exclusion in the final book.

So the part that everyone loses their shit over is as follows:

"My sister Susan," answered Peter shortly and gravely, "is no longer a friend of Narnia."

"Yes," said Eustace, "and whenever you've tried to get her to come and talk about Narnia or do anything about Narnia, she says 'What wonderful memories you have! Fancy your still thinking about all those funny games we used to play when we were children.'"

"Oh Susan!" said Jill, "she's interested in nothing now-a-days except nylons and lipstick and invitations. She always was a jolly sight too keen on being grown-up."

"Grown-up, indeed," said the Lady Polly. "I wish she would grow up. She wasted all her school time wanting to be the age she is now, and she'll waste all the rest of her life trying to stay that age. Her whole idea is to race on to the silliest time of one's life as quick as she can and then stop there as long as she can."

The Last Battle, 83-84

There's a lot to unpack here and I first want to say that everyone's opinion on this part, no matter how different than mine, is valid. I'm going to be quoting some other ppl's opinions on here and by no means am I bashing them. I just want to address my feelings on the matter and the best way to do that is to cite the thoughts of ppl who have opposing ideas.

Here are some arguments on Tumblr I've heard regarding "The Problem of Susan":

"How about we talk about what might have happened if Narnia hadn't deserted Susan? [...] What if we didn't tell Susan she had to go grow up in her own world and then shame and punish her for doing just that? She was told to walk away and she went. She did not try to stay a child all her life, wishing for something she had been told she couldn't have again."

"Narnia is filled with metaphors (often not very subtle ones) that are supposed to teach us how to be, and the most glaring one for any young girl to absorb is that it's okay to be a girl like Lucy, unthreatening and cheerful and valiant and faithful, but to be a girl like Susan gets you punished - in fact, you aren't just punished, you're destroyed."

"why do we call it ‘the problem’ where’s the problem about a young woman dealing with her trauma and choosing her own path, actively making the choice to keep living and to stay and to carve a life out in England when her siblings couldn’t? what is the problem about susan forgetting to somehow cope with what she’s experienced? why is it ‘the problem of susan’ that she recontextualised her faith?"

And then there's JK Rowling who said this:

There comes a point where Susan, who was the older girl, is lost to Narnia because she becomes interested in lipstick. She's become irreligious basically because she found sex. I have a big problem with that.

It's weird how I'm still finding new ways to hate JKR in the year 2021. Again, there is absolutely zero implication that Susan had sex when she came back to England. ZERO. Did she actually read the books? IDK. If someone shares this opinion pls reply with actual canonical evidence.

Back on topic, I'm a firm believer of death of the author and interpreting art via your own experiences. Which is why I'm also going to share my own interpretation by saying y'all are wrong.

Susan Pevensie was not abandoned by Narnia. She was not barred from Narnia because she is traditionally feminine or because she "owned her sexuality" (another opinion I didn't have time to condense down for this post) or because she recontextualized her faith or even because she deserved to be punished.

I also fail to see how Susan recontexualized her faith, as the entire point of it all is that she has none. Bringing this back to Susan's fatal flaw (personal convenience/material comforts), her prioritizing herself over her own faith is the reason she is "no longer a friend of Narnia." Not...whatever fanon y'all are imposing on her character.

Susan is not being punished for liking lipstick and looking pretty. Susan's not even being punished. Y'all read Neil Gaiman's The Problem of Susan and forgot it wasn't canon.

There are many reasons Susan is not in Aslan's Country (one of them being that she's not actually dead yet), but the main one has to do with this:

"[...] But there I have another name. You must learn to know me by that name. This was the very reason why you were brought to Narnia, that by knowing me here for a little, you may know me better there.”

Voyage of the Dawn Treader, 215-216

Yeah, okay that's why Susan is no longer a friend of Narnia. The implication when the Pevensies are told that they can no longer enter Narnia is that they are to find Aslan in other places. Susan doesn't do this, instead choosing to focus her life on material things. It isn't the lipstick, it's that she only wants the lipstick.

Susan Had Sex In The Books

Oh and not in the context y'all are thinking. (Again, there are no implications that Susan was barred from Narnia for having sex or that she had sex when she came back to England.)

So there's actual canonical evidence that Susan and Rabadash had a sexual relationship. Sort of.

"What think you? We have been in this city fully three weeks. Have you yet settled in your mind whether you will marry this dark-faced lover of yours, this Prince Rabadash, or no?"

-The Horse and His Boy, 35

Edmund calls Rabadash her lover. Not her suitor. I don't know if the word had a different meaning in 1954, but it feels like C.S. Lewis is saying that they're fucking. I'm not really happy with the idea of Susan sleeping with an abuser, but really proud of her for Getting Some as a woman born in a time period where having premarital sex was a big no-no.

This also invalidates the weird opinion going on that Susan was barred from Narnia because she had sex.

Suspian Is The Worst

I haven't really talked about Movie!Susan much, but as long as we're talking unpopular opinions, it's worth noting that I hate Suspian. Some of it is the "Susan is Aro" headcanon screaming inside of me, but it's also the fact that it's written poorly, does nothing interesting for either character and generally comes across as awkward.

I feel like they were trying to make Prince Caspian sexy and relevant to teens. It came across as super heteronormative and unnecessary.

It also gets really really weird bc the next movie then gives Caspian and Edmund mad chemistry and we're all just like........ok.

Final Thoughts

Susan may not be my favorite character in the series, but she's grown on me over the years. I have many issues with fanon interpretations of her--which definately fueled some of my disdain for her initally--and I don't identify as a Susan Apologist.

I do however adore Susan and have many headcanons for her not mentioned here. I love reading fanfic, writing fanfic and meta, and generally having conversations about her and would love to talk more about it.

I welcome criticism (CONSTRUCTIVE) and conversation on all of my opinions and observations. Please drop into my inbox. <3

[asksidon]

I love thinking about Sidon with a g/n reader with long hair who asks him to comb their hair for them? And he sits them in front of him like a doll when he does it, it makes my heart melt

You are at your desk, reading a tattered volume of Hylian poetry when you feel something behind you, a presence. You turn and give a start when you see it is your prince. Oh no, he caught me slacking.

You slam the book shut and give a cough at the dust that comes flying from the pages, then smile sheepishly at Sidon. "Sir. I am so sorry. I got distracted . . ."

He holds up a hand, giving you his own smile in return. "No. It's one of my favorites, too." He gestures at the book. "It was a gift from my father many years ago. I am glad to see it is being enjoyed as it deserves again, for it's been some time since I have been able to read for leisure."

From the look in his eyes, he seems to have something on his mind. He remains silent for a few moments, then continues.

"And the truth is, Y/N, I am distracted too."

He purses his lips and turns away. Why is he acting ashamed? Everyone gets distracted; too much duty and not enough play will do that.

You decide to prompt him when he does not speak again, and you hope it won't come off as prying. It is hard to tell whether he wants to talk about it. "By what, my prince?"

He turns back to you, his eyes filled with a shadow you haven't seen before. It is almost like a sadness. You want to go to him, to give him a comforting touch, but you worry about being too forward. Instead, you run a hand through your long locks and let it fall awkwardly at your side. When you look back at him, you realize he is watching you intently, as if fascinated by your nervous gesture.

"By you," he says finally. "That. What you just did."

You blink. "My prince?"

He lets out a small breath of frustration. "Please don't 'my prince' me right now, Y/N. Call me Sidon."

You cast your gaze downward, your emotions an odd mix. What is troubling him so? And now you feel as though your formality has made it worse.

"I am sorry, Y/N. I am not expressing myself at all how I wish to," he says quickly, upon seeing your despondence. "I would prefer that you call me Sidon, but you don't have to, of course. And I suppose what I meant to say is . . . I think you are . . . you are beautiful, if I may say. When your back was to me a few moments ago, I couldn't help but admire your . . . tresses. I was thinking how appropriate that you were reading that book, for you are like something out of one of those poems."

He is blushing.

"I don't normally say such things to . . . well, anyone. I apologize most sincerely for my forwardness. Perhaps I should leave you as you were."

Sidon begins to back away, but you reach out and grasp his forearm. "Please, don't go. I'm just speechless, that's all. Speechless but happy," you tell him. "Thank you, Sidon."

Finally, he smiles again. Some light has broken through his storm clouds. He moves his arm so that he can hold your hand. You feel butterflies in your stomach at the touch, and suddenly an idea occurs to you.

"Since you like my hair, would you . . . comb it for me?"

"In this moment, I can think of nothing that would make me happier," he admits.

Luckily, you always keep a comb in your work bag, never knowing when a sudden gust of wind might hit, or a strand will move out of place as they so often do. You fish through your belongings for it and hand it to him, and he holds and looks at it with wonder.

"I always wish that we had hair to comb," Sidon admits. "It is a most wondrous thing to behold, a full head of hair."

"You are wondrous, my pr-- . . . Sidon," you say. "Hair or no hair." You move so that your back is to him, thinking that will give him the easiest access, but he places a hand on your shoulder to turn you around and move you toward the chair.

"Face me, please," he tells you softly. "And sit. Make yourself comfortable."

You do as he asks and meet his gaze as he reaches out with his free hand to move your hair forward. The tenderness with which he does it makes your heart leap, and you feel as though he must be able to hear it, for it beats so forcefully. He draws the comb through, taking his time with any snags. He holds your hair at the root as he works through them so he doesn't hurt you.

"Such beauty," he murmurs. He seems to have lost himself in what he is doing, and you dare not break his trance.

You cannot tell whether minutes or hours pass as he continues his ministrations. You hardly care. You feel as though you could stay just like this forever, needing nothing, nothing except the knowing that he finds you beautiful.

There is a knock at the door. A footman. He does not open the door, but speaks through it. "Prince Sidon, the dignitaries from the Gerudo have arrived."

Sidon does not answer immediately. He meets your gaze, and you see the frustration is back in his expression. "Yes. I will be down promptly," he replies.

The footsteps retreat from the door, and Sidon reluctantly lays down the comb.

Both of you give a small sigh. He leans forward and whispers into your ear, "Thank you, Y/N."

You hope that you'll be able to do this again, but before you can say so, he is up and out of the door. At his sudden absence, you feel bereft, but whole at the same time, given the magnitude of what has passed between you.