#giving 3363 a go

[nearmike]

Burning flame | 3363

Here we goooooo 💙🩵

Let me know!

[killerlookz]

Is It Really You? | Joost Klein

description: Based on the song Is It Really You? by Loathe (aka one of the most beautiful songs of all time i'm being so serious) Following a breakup with your long-term boyfriend, the man you were certain you would marry, a night with your best friend, Joost proves that love may lie elsewhere for you.

content: Joost Klein x f! reader, 18+ suggestive content (no smut), RPF, smoking, mention of drinking, angst, hurt/comfort, breakups, cheating, fluff, best friends to lovers(?).

word count: 3363

"Is it really you...? Let's search the sky for a while, you and I, collide like two stars for a while, you and I."

Your eyes burn as another bitter tear falls down your cheeks, the taste of salt grazing your quivering lips as the droplet drips off your chin. The early summer air was getting cooler as the sun had long been set, a small breeze stinging your tearful eyes as it blew past your face.

"Oh," The word drops painfully from the mouth of the man beside you, as if you had just broken his heart right then and there, "Oh, don't cry." The familiar voice of your best friend was of little comfort now.

You suck in a deep breath, shaky as your chest spasms, struggling to maintain composure. You gaze out at the city that surrounds you, bright and alive with a bustling nightlife, a nightlife you had found yourself so often partaking in. But tonight, as you sat on the roof of your apartment, you were merely an observer, far removed from the fun of the city.

"Five years, Joost." You turn to face the blonde next to you, "five, down the drain."

His face is pained, pink lips pulled downwards as his eyelids fall and eyebrows furrow, "Het spijt me." (I am sorry) He shakes his head.

The last three weeks had been nothing but sorries, to the point the phrase had begun to make you nauseous, your stomach churning as the condolence had left Joost's mouth. Everything about him told you that he actually meant it, but still- you couldn't bear to hear any more sorries.

"I thought I was going to marry him," You turn away from Joost, facing back to the skyline that surrounded you, observing the buildings, and the multitudes of colors that shone from their windows. Your chest ached, you didn't understand how someone you had loved so much and for so long could leave in an instant, seemingly so nonchalantly, with not so much as to even give you a face-to-face goodbye, "Fuck." You mutter, feeling a familiar anger begin to bubble inside you- what a fucking coward.

A trembling hand reaches for the pack of cigarettes that sits beside you, grabbing the warped cardboard, and pulling out another cigarette. Looking into the box, only one remained, had you not been so consumed by your emotions you probably would have felt bad smoking almost the entire pack, considering they weren't yours.

"There's one left," You mutter, tipping the box in Joost's direction, offering him the remaining cigarette, despite the entire pack having been his in the first place.

"I'm ok," He shakes his head, "It's yours."

A small smile pulls at your lips in response to the gesture, but you just cannot take that response,

"No," You push the open cardboard towards him, "Take it. Humor me please." You had hoped he would accept, and indulge you in your shared bad habit together.

Joost reluctantly takes the pack from you, slowly pulling out the single remaining cigarette, and placing it between his lips. You watch as he struggles with the lighter in his hand that is clearly on its last life. With a flick, he's finally able to produce a small, orange flame, just enough to light the end of the cigarette.

He passes the lighter to you, his fingertips lightly brushing your palms as he hands the small, black object over to you. His slight touch sends shivers down your spine, almost making you forget your unfortunate situation for a split second.

Tilting your head down, and using a cupped hand to shield you from the gentle breeze, you attempt to light the cigarette that hangs from your lips. Your finger swipes down the cool metal, but you're unable to produce a spark, the serrated metal wheel is unturning as it bores into your skin. You attempt a few more times, left only with your thumb sore from its rough movements against the hardness of the metal.

"Here," Joost says, clocking your lack of success with the lighter. He leans in towards you, touching the end of his cigarette to yours. You note the proximity between you, his face so close to yours. You can't help but take a moment to admire him, the way his blue eyes glimmer behind the lens of his glasses, how his hair is just the perfect amount of messy, and how the warm colored city lights highlight the angles of his face against the backdrop of night.

Your spark of admiration reminds you of simpler times, of younger years, spent pining over your best friend in all of your teenage awkwardness. You had spent most of your childhood with an insatiable crush on Joost, one that went absolutely nowhere. Minus that one time, the two of you shared a drunken kiss four years ago, but it had meant nothing other than the fact that you were angry at your then-boyfriend, and you had had far too much to drink.

Still, you remember it like it was yesterday, having found out just days prior your boyfriend, Christian, had been hooking up with his ex-girlfriend the whole year you had been together. If you had known then what you know now, you would have left him, but having been dumb and 21 the answer to your problems was fighting fire with fire.

You and Christian had been at a party thrown by a mutual friend, having not spoken to him since you had found out what he had done, you showed up to the party with Joost, who you had, subsequently spent the entire night with. The kiss had taken place after god only knows how many drinks, and a night spent dancing with Joost like he was your boyfriend. You and Joost had found yourselves on a couch in the living room, Christian staring dead at the pair of you from across the room, his eyes burning into you- it had felt as good of a time as ever, Heartless by The Weeknd boomed over the speakers, to give him a taste of his own medicine.

To make a short story even shorter, you and Joost had become the focal point of the party for the remaining length of the song, having had him pushed back on the couch as you laid straddled on top of him, lips locked in a furious kiss, wandering hands exploring each other's bodies in a way that hadn't been entirely appropriate for such a public setting.

Following a heated argument after that incident, you and Christian considered each other even, willing to move on with the relationship as if nothing had happened. Joost didn't feel quite the same, the two of them had been on rocky waters ever since then, which, he didn't mind, he was far from fond of the man you swore up and down you were going to marry one day.

Blinking a few times you return yourself to the present moment, watching as Joost's chest rises, sucking in a breath, stoking the flame of his own cigarette so he can light yours. You inhale as well, which finally allows your cigarette to light.

You smile to thank him, the cigarette still pressed between your lips. You place two fingers on either side of the cigarette, taking a proper drag, feeling a familiar warm prickling in your throat as the smoke enters your lungs.

You face away from Joost to exhale, grey smoke dancing around you as another gust of wind approaches.

"I just don't understand," You start, your voice beginning to waver as memories of the last five years you spent with Christian came back to you, "How could he?" You inhale once more, deeply, hoping that you can receive at least some vague headrush from the nicotine. Exhale. "After all the shit I put up with, he leaves me." You face back to Joost, a grimace forming on your face, "With a text."

You bite at the inside of your cheeks, attempting to suppress the way your lips quiver as a sob threatens to escape you.

Joost's head hangs to the side, sympathy spread across his face,

"I don't think there's anything to understand." He presses the cigarette in his hand up against his lips, taking a quick inhale before speaking again, "He's just a dick."

"Easy for you to say," You sigh, "You're biased, you never liked him."

"Yeah," Joost says, matter-of-factly, "He spent the first year of your relationship fucking his ex-girlfriend."

"I cheated too," You mumble, you had never quite forgiven yourself for that incident, no matter how perfect it had felt in the moment.

"We kissed once while we were drunk." He furrows his eyebrows to take another drag of his cigarette.

"Still cheating," You shrug, even if he did have a fair point, you having kissed Joost in pure spite didn't exactly equal a year's worth of hooking up with someone else, "I mean," You pause to take a drag of your cigarette, "If I was your girlfriend, would you want me kissing other guys- even if it was because you had done something too?"

"If you were my girlfriend I wouldn't have sex with anyone else in the first place."

"That's not my point." You shake your head

"But that's my point." He says in earnest.

You flick your eyes up to look at him to find him staring back at you, his gaze unwavering from where it meets yours. He was right and you shouldn't have let the relationship go on for as long as it did.

With a blink more tears are spilling out of your eyes, unable to hold back your cries much longer.

"I wasted five years of my life," The tears continue to pour down your cheeks, "Five years is a long time."

A small smile appears on Joost's face, a sign of encouragement,

"Someday being with someone for five years will feel like nothing," You watch as the end of his cigarette burns down with another drag, a puff of grey smoke exiting his mouth as he speaks again, his voice softening, "But I know it hurts now."

"Yeah," You concede, hanging your head. "It does."

"I know the last thing you want is the 'it gets better with time' speech, but i promise you, it will."

"I believe you." You cannot look at Joost as you take another drag from the cigarette between your fingers, continuing to stare at the concrete roof of your apartment building as the tears continue to stream down your face. Deep down you know he's right, that one day you'll be with someone for far longer than five years, but it was hard to imagine all of the grief you'd have to push yourself through before getting to that point, mourning the last five years of your life seemed like a daunting challenge ahead.

You push what remains of your cigarette into the concrete, watching as the small flame extinguishes with a small plume of smoke.

"Come here." Joost sighs, slinging an arm around your hunched-over body. Instinctively, your head falls to the side, resting against Joost's shoulder. Moments of affection had been scarce between the two of you since the incident at the party, you knew that part of you feared what sort of emotions would be brought if you let yourself get too close in physical proximity to him.

But now it didn't matter, you were more than receptive of a shoulder to cry on.

The pair of you sit in silence for a moment, both fixated on the dark sky that stretches around you in every direction. The stars are nothing but a faint twinkle tonight, much as they had been every night, something you had gotten used to since moving to the city.

Joost's palm rubs soft circles into your back, lulling your shaky breaths to a stable cadence. You feel heavy as you lay on Joost's shoulder, your eyes burning and your head aching from how much you had been crying.

You can't help but let your mind wander, mostly about the past, about your life before Christian. Tonight had reminded you of old times, of when it was just you and Joost, the pair of you attached at the hip. Neither of you had very many friends growing up, and while you could appreciate your expansive friend groups now, and how much your lives had changed since you were teens, you couldn't help but miss moments like this, moments where you had him all to yourself.

You had accepted a long time ago that you were probably never going to completely get over the crush you had on Joost. Not that it mattered much anyway, it seemed harmless, and it obviously hadn't inhibited you from finding love elsewhere. A puppy crush was all you had thought it had waned down to. Joost seemed to only get more attractive as he aged anyway, having truly grown into himself. Sometimes you couldn't believe the man he had matured into- proud was an understatement.

"Feeling any better?" He asks, his voice low as to not startle you as he breaks the silence.

"I don't know." You mumble, your voice threatening to crack once more and your mind is a mess with pure confusion as to what it was you were feeling. Your heart thumps in your chest at a volume that feels much louder than normal, pumping at a rate that seems much too fast for the situation you're in, "Can I ask you a weird question?"

"Sure" He chuckles, "Ask me whatever you want."

"Did you like it?" The question quickly slips from your lips.

"Like what?" He responds, clearly confused.

"Like," You begin to trail off, unsure if you want to clarify your question, "When we-uh kissed?"

The soft motions he draws against your back are suddenly halted, and it feels like the entire city has gone quiet, like time has stood still, Your heart drops straight into your stomach, fearing the outcome of his rigid bodily reaction.

"Y-yeah, yeah, I liked it." His voice becoming more confident as words progressed.

"I did too," It seemed useless now to wallow in the guilt you had felt about that situation, you liked it, "Do you think we could-" You cut yourself off, not sure of how to finish the question.

Joost places three fingers on your jaw, grabbing at your chin to pull your gaze up to him.

You look at Joost through tearful eyes, questioning how to make your next move. A few seconds of anxious silence pass between the two, breathing heavily.

Joost's fingers linger on your jaw as you feel him pull you closer ever-so-slightly, the two of you inching nearer to each other. Unable to wait any longer, you push yourself forward, at the same time, Joost seems to have had the same idea, the two of you colliding with a force you hadn't expected, which almost takes the breath straight from your lungs.

But you only wish to get closer as your lips clash against Joost's with a hunger you weren't used to. You couldn't remember the last time you had experienced a kiss with such passion, with such intent behind it.

Your hands find themselves tangled up in Joost's hair, threading through and pulling at the already messy strands. Joost's own hands are planted firmly on your body, one on the back of your neck and the other on your waist.

You began to slowly tip back, removing a hand from Joost's hair to maintain stability as you lowered your back to the concrete. Joost follows suit, not breaking the kiss as you pull him down with you.

He props himself up with a hand next to your head, using his other free hand to hold your cheek. You wrap both of your arms around his neck, attempting to pull him further down on top of you.

Joost's kisses soon leave your lips, soft lips trailing down your jaw and eventually your neck. Your chest rises, back arching as he connects with your throat, sucking softly. You let your head tip back onto the concrete, staring up at the sky as Joost continues.

Somehow the stars feel much brighter now, although you know that they aren't. But you're memorized by their faint twinkle in the heat of the moment, as your hands desperately grasp at Joost's hair, and your breathing begins to speed up.

Once more, you're overwhelmed, eyes damp once more as they well up with tears. You pinch your eyes closed, trying to force the droplets away, but it does nothing but push your salty tears down your face. It didn't feel so bad to cry now, not as Joost ghosts your neck with soft kisses, his hand dropping to draw reassuring circles on your hip with his thumb.

You arch your back, allowing Joost to wrap an arm under you, holding you tight. You whine as his teeth graze your neck, quickly soothing the small bite with his tongue. It's obvious Joost notices your response to the action, repeating it over a few more times, surely bursting some blood vessels along the way.

You recognized the sensation that was building inside of you, the way the muscles in your legs tightened and your abdomen strained, the paralyzing feeling of want terrorizing every nerve in your body. You bend your leg, pushing your hips forward. With your sudden movement, Joost's hand slips from behind your back to your thigh, his fingertips just below the hem of your pajama shorts. It's not quite where you want him.

A strangled, "Please," leaves your throat, causing Joost to hesitate, lifting his head from where it hung by your neck, his hand dropping from your thigh.

Pity is written all over his face as he looks down at you, fuck.

"I'm sorry," He shakes his head

"What?"

"We shouldn't-"

"No?" You choke, and it's like you could feel him slipping through your fingers, you clench your jaw, his name bitten into your tongue. You let your head fall to the side, the concrete is harsh, scraping against your cheek.

"Stop," You feel Joost's hand graze your arm, "Please look at me."

You can't bear to lift your head up, shame written all over your face. First your boyfriend now him.

"I don't mean to upset you, please, liefje, look at me."

His use of the phrase liefje making you immediately turn your head, confused.

"Don't call me that if you don't mean it." You frown

"I do mean it."

"Sure."

Joost lowers his head, pressing a kiss to your forehead,

"Believe me," He mumbles, his lips still resting against your hairline.

"Then why can't we go any further?" You wince at the words that come from your mouth.

"We will," He raises his head to look you in the eyes, "When you're ready."

"I am," You furrow your eyebrows, "I've known you for 15 years, I am more than ready."

Joost frowns, "You just got out of a five-year relationship."

"Do you think I'm using you as a rebound?"

"What-no," He shakes his head, "I just don't want to fuck up your healing process."

"What if you speed it up?" You ask, lifting your head from the concrete.

"And what if I make it worse?"

"You won't" You plead

"Not tonight." He sighs, dipping his head to place another kiss on your forehead, "Let me take you out first, we'll make it special."

A small smile grazes your lips, your heart warmed at his effort,

"I care about you, y/n, I don't want to just have sex with you because we're in the mood, okay?" He speaks earnestly, making your pulse quicken.

"Okay," You whisper, "Can you at least stay the night?"

"I'll stay as long as you want," he smiles, and a few moments of comfortable silence engulf you both before he speaks again, "You know I love you, right?" You're unsure of if it's platonic love, or something more, but it doesn't seem to matter now, the very simple fact that he loves you was all you could really focus on.

"I love you too." You're unsure of how you mean it either, knowing only that you love him. Just as you always had.

[gingerly-writing]

Prompt #3363

“The lowest point of my life was the month you left me. And you want me to give you a chance to hurt me like that again?” Supervillain laughed, disbelieving and raw. “Taking you back would be knowingly setting myself up for agony, and I have been many things, but a glutton for punishment is not one of them. Go home.”

[eurydicees]

in need of fanfic/book recs from ya <3

ooooooh okay idk what genre of book or fandom/ship fic you want so here are my general recent favorites! i'm not gonna give a summary, just a small note/review with my thoughts, so ur gonna have to google the books and click the ao3 links--my apologies but this post was getting way too long lmfao

real life books!

gideon the ninth / the locked tomb series by tamsyn muir: i'm really working my way through this series and i loooooove it. the characters make me crazy and every turn in the plot has me screaming a little. there's been a lot of deranged texts to irls about this one.

under the whispering door by t.j. klune: this book DID make me cry. it's a really well woven story about love for your family and your friends and death and finding satisfaction and fulfillment in life (and death) and moving forward. HIGHLY recommend his other book (the house on the cerulean sea) as well!! i read that one first and it's a really gorgeous, satsifying read.

the shell collector by anthony doerr: this is a short story collection technically but i loooooove it. each story individually is really beautifully done and i absolutely LOVE his writing style. i think i take a lot of inspiration from him for my own writing!

on earth we're briefly gorgeous by ocean vuong: top books that, like, make yourself feel seen. another author/poet that i feel i can attribute a lot of inspiration for my style and love of words to in general.

sharks in the rivers by ada limón: poetry collection! but one of my all time favorite poetry collections and i can't let this go unnamed. i absolutely ADORE ada limón (you may know her from "the great blue heron of dunbar road" or "instructions on not giving up", which floats around tumblr pretty regularly). i think i first read this collection for class but it genuinely changed something in me. i actually have a tattoo based on these poems <3

post-colonial love poem by natalie diaz: another poetry collection but this one, like, fucked me up. it's woven together as a collection in an absolutely breathtaking way, but each poem also stands alone really beautifully.

fics - haikyuu!!

a mote of dust suspended in a sunbeam by swampdragons (iwaoi, 6911 words): i read this a bit ago and really loved it, though it was also really emotionally difficult for me to personally get through--one of those fics that really drives the emotions home so deeply that it hurts to keep going. part of that might just be my own personal connection to the topic. idk. but either way it's ABSOLUTELY worth it.

The Benefits of Patience by Moami (iwaoi, 3363 words): this one's silly and funny and so much more lighthearted than the prev rec lmfao. it's like. healthy but messy but established but not established but a real relationship but an almost relationship to be iwaoi <3333

The Way He Looks At You by roobtheboob (iwaoi, 3805 words): i think i read too much iwaoi. but this one's really cute i PROMISE. i like the kyoutani POV idea a lot and i think the way kyoutani is written overall is really well done, particularly in the team dynamic and his respect for iwaizumi.

The years shall run like rabbits by ladyoflalaland (ushiten, 7292 words): obsessed w this fic. ushijima's mother is written out to be a REALLY interesting character and her strained relationship with ushijima is fascinating. the passage of time of it all......man.

fics - other fandoms

"Normal" by OnigiriCat4Ever (fruits basket, kyohru, 7140 words): this one's a really cute post-canon character study of sorts and i really love it. i love how the 7yo hajime is written and his relationship with kyo is really sweet.

The act of loving in return by kindokja (bllk, ryusae, 2809 words): this one's both funny and heartwrenching and sweet and painful all at once. beautiful, necessary mix in a fic. i like it a lot.

turn your face (towards the sun) by youareoldfatherwilliam (atla, gen, 5813 words): im normal about fics abt the chit sang and the 41st, in case u were curious!

that's all i got for now? i literally just went through my most recent bookmarks and cherry picked some special highlights lol. feel free to let me know if you want anything more specific!!!!! u already know i loooooove giving recommendations<3

[ilmtest]

How Knowledge Disappears

Narrated ʿAbd Allah b. ʿAmr (b. al-ʿĀṣ may Allah be pleased with him): I heard Allah’s Messenger ﷺ saying: حَدَّثَنَا بَكْرٌ قَالَ: نا عَمْرٌو قَالَ: نا عَبْدُ الْعَزِيزِ بْنُ الْحُصَيْنِ، عَنْ هِشَامِ بْنِ عُرْوَةَ، عَنْ أَبِيهِ، عَنْ عَبْدِ اللَّهِ بْنِ عُمَرَ قَالَ: قَالَ رَسُولُ اللَّهِ صَلَّى اللهُ عَلَيْهِ وَسَلَّمَ: “Allah the Mighty and Majestic does not take away the knowledge by taking it away from (the hearts of) the people, «إِنَّ اللَّهَ عَزَّ وَجَلَّ لَا يَقْبِضُ الْعِلْمَ انْتِزَاعًا يَنْتَزِعُهُ مِنَ النَّاسِ، but He takes it away by the death of the scholars. وَلَكِنْ يَقْبِضُهُ بِقَبْضِ الْعُلَمَاءِ، Until when none of the (scholars) remain, people will take as their leaders ignorant people who when consulted will give their verdict without knowledge. حَتَّى إِذَا لَمْ يَزَلْ عَالِمًا اتَّخَذَ النَّاسُ رُءُوسًا جُهَّالًا فَسُئِلُوا، فَأَفْتَوْا بِغَيْرِ عِلْمٍ، So, they will go astray and will lead the people astray.” فَضَلُّوا وَأَضَلُّوا» No one narrated this ḥadīth from ʿAbd al-ʿAzīz b. al-Ḥuṣayn except ʿAmr b. Hishām. لَمْ يَرْوِ هَذَا الْحَدِيثَ عَنْ عَبْدِ الْعَزِيزِ بْنِ الْحُصَيْنِ إِلَّا عَمْرُو بْنُ هَاشِمٍ al-Ṭabarānī, al-Muʿjam al-Awsaṭ 3/301 #3222 للطبراني، المعجم الأوسط ٣/٣٠١ #٣٢٢٢ https://shamela.ws/book/28171/3363 @ilmtest [https://t.me/ilmtest]

[dnkme]

Security and Fire Resistance: Why Hollow Metal Doors are Ideal for Dubai Warehouses

In an ever-growing industrial hub like Dubai, the security and safety of warehouses are paramount. Warehouses house valuable inventory and equipment, making them prime targets for theft and security breaches. Additionally, the potential for fire hazards due to machinery and storage materials is always a concern. Choosing the right door for these facilities is crucial, and hollow metal doors are quickly becoming the go-to solution for warehouse owners in Dubai. This blog explores why hollow metal doors are the ideal choice for securing warehouses, offering unparalleled security and fire resistance.

1. Unmatched Security Features

Warehouses require heavy-duty protection, especially in a fast-paced city like Dubai, where industries are booming. Hollow metal doors are known for their superior strength, thanks to their construction from durable materials such as galvanized steel. These doors are difficult to breach, offering a higher level of security compared to wooden or aluminum doors.

Additionally, hollow metal doors can be outfitted with high-security locking mechanisms and reinforcements, making them resistant to forced entry. For warehouses storing sensitive or high-value goods, this added layer of protection is crucial.

Key Features:

Strong, durable metal construction

Reinforced hinges and locks for enhanced security

Resistance to forced entry and tampering

2. Fire Resistance: A Critical Factor

Fire safety is a top priority in any warehouse setting, given the nature of materials often stored—ranging from combustible items to heavy machinery. Hollow metal doors are not only robust but also designed to provide exceptional fire resistance. Many models are certified to withstand fire for up to several hours, giving ample time for evacuation and preventing fire from spreading to other parts of the building.

In Dubai, where industrial regulations are stringent, investing in fire-resistant doors is not just a matter of safety but also compliance with local building codes. Hollow metal doors meet these regulations and are a recommended choice for fire safety in industrial settings.

Benefits of Fire Resistance:

Contain fires to one area, reducing property damage

Provide extra time for evacuation and emergency response

Comply with Dubai’s strict fire safety regulations

https://ic.pics.livejournal.com/dnkme/97826982/3363/3363_800.jpg

3. Durability Against Dubai’s Harsh Climate

Dubai’s extreme weather conditions, including intense heat, humidity, and occasional sandstorms, demand materials that can withstand the elements. Hollow metal doors, particularly those made from galvanized steel or stainless steel, are resistant to corrosion and warping. This makes them ideal for outdoor or semi-outdoor warehouse environments where exposure to the elements is a concern.

Unlike wooden or aluminum doors that may degrade over time due to the harsh climate, hollow metal doors maintain their structural integrity and appearance for years with minimal maintenance.

Climate Resistance Features:

Rust-resistant coatings for prolonged life

Ability to withstand extreme temperatures and humidity

Low-maintenance with a long service life

4. Cost-Effective in the Long Run

While the initial investment in hollow metal doors may be higher than other materials, they offer excellent long-term value. Their durability, fire resistance, and security features mean fewer repairs and replacements over time, reducing overall maintenance costs. Moreover, their ability to endure Dubai’s harsh weather conditions ensures they last longer, making them a smart investment for warehouses aiming for long-term savings.

Financial Benefits:

Fewer replacements and repairs

Lower maintenance costs due to durability

Enhanced property protection reduces potential theft or fire-related losses

https://ic.pics.livejournal.com/dnkme/97826982/3618/3618_800.jpg

5. Customization Options for Enhanced Functionality

Hollow metal doors are not just about strength; they also offer flexibility in design and functionality. Warehouse owners in Dubai can choose from a range of customization options to suit their specific needs. This includes adding fire-rated windows, security grilles, or even electronic access control systems for enhanced convenience and protection.

Additionally, hollow metal doors come in various finishes, allowing businesses to maintain a professional appearance without compromising on security or safety.

Customization Options:

Fire-rated glass panels for visibility and safety

Integration with access control systems

Different finishes to suit the warehouse’s aesthetic

Conclusion

For warehouse owners in Dubai, choosing the right doors is crucial to maintaining security, safety, and compliance with local regulations. Hollow metal doors offer a comprehensive solution with their unmatched strength, fire resistance, and ability to withstand the city's harsh climate. Their durability, combined with the flexibility of customization, makes them an ideal choice for warehouses seeking to protect their valuable assets.

In a fast-paced industrial environment, securing your warehouse with hollow metal doors ensures you are equipped with the best possible protection against theft, fire, and environmental factors. It's not just about compliance; it's about peace of mind, knowing that your business and its assets are safe.

[guessimate]

Today’s post is about the Underwoods. This family has been quite fortune so far, but alas… I rolled Constantine would die [#13 ROS, The Unlucky Number]... It makes sense warlocks and witches would get persecuted and as he's also a hydrophobe, I thought it was quite fitting to drown him. 

Algernon, the heir to the family tavern, wanted to buy a hot tub and his girlfriend, Lira, wanted to go swimming during a date they went on… That sounded pretty suspicious to me. I just hope they weren’t plotting Constantine’s demise for whatever reason. It’s really sad, as Constantine was just a good warlock, and a scholar. RIP. He died on Tuesday, right before men were supposed to be coming back home from war, which is quite ironic, as I allowed him to stay home where he was supposed to be safer.

I’m guessing the Monses reported a possible warlock in town after they had overheard Algernon’s conversations with Lira, their servant. They wanted to get a good reputation in this new town they moved to.

~*~

Sayed Venditor, the new merchant, was just walking by and since he wanted 3 first dates, and Vivian was quite attracted to him they went on a date.

I flipped a coin 3 times and rolled heads 2 out of 3 times, so I decided she would get pregnant. He’s a merchant, so he can have 4 kids according to the rules of the challenge. I don't think anyone would bother Vivian about who the father of these babies was, as she had just become a widow, so these were likely her late husband’s babies. Also, there are so few men in town because of the war... just who else could these kids be fathered by?

She gave birth to 2 blue-eyed blondes, Gwenllian and Yule (a girl and a boy). They were born on the first Sunday of winter. They all survived, getting great rolls (there was even one 100!). 

I only made Vivian eat cheesecake because she wanted to… Plus she did naturally give birth to twins before, so in my view that should increase her chances of having twins, as they probably run in her family. The babies will age up at the beginning of the next round.

Vivian kept rolling the fear of Sayed Venditor becoming a warlock. She must be scared another man will be taken away from her because of witchcraft.

~*~

Cynesige kept painting autonomously and he wanted to max out Creativity. Both twins maxed out Arts&Craft enthusiasm when they were children. One of them might become a full-time artist one day. Their older brother always wanted to do it, but he’s the one that must inherit the tavern. The twins were rolled to be Knowledge (Cynesige) and Family (Wilhelmina). Maybe Cynesige will end up becoming a warlock, like his dad. 

~*~

The tavern is now Algernon’s. He earned the Gold Sales Badge. He also managed to increase the rank of the business to rank 10. 

Sadly, I have some bug in my game that doesn’t allow teenagers to serve drinks poured from bottles, so Algernon can’t serve his customers at the tavern half of the time.

They started off with 1733$ and they ended up with 6213$, so they earned 4480$.

1344$ - tax.

1000$ - rent.

2344$ (rounded down to 2300$) - to the Royal Treasury (total earned = 127,050$).

448 - tithe, rounded up to 500$ because of the burial fee. The grave hasn't been moved yet and I’m not sure if it will be, considering this was a warlock... The Church has earned 21,300$ so far.

50$ - to the midwife.

They dug up just a bone this round, so no tax on that.

They're left with 3363$. But I'll have to get them some promotion items, or they'll just upgrade the tavern a bit more. 

[romanticandupsetting]

PLATO KEYCHAIN

kise ryota x gn!reader ; soulmate!au

a soulmate au where your dreams are your soulmate’s memories. also, enemies to lovers.

warnings: reader cusses, like, once , mentions of food , mentions of academic pressure , little blood (a nosebleed is mentioned once) , fainting , kise being dumb

request by @carinacassiopeiae​​:  Hii! Yes please, go write knb fics ahhhh and please tag me!! Umm, for a request, soulmate au with kise?? But like at the start, they're enemies so cue the angst and whatnot, but they find out they're soulmates so yeah thank youu

word count: 3363

this is my first request and first one shot so i got kinda enthusiastic and ended up writing it immediately lol. i try to make the reader gender neutral, unless someone requests me a specific gender so if i accidentally typed a pronoun other than they/them for the reader here, please tell me :>>

Light blue hair.

Ah, you’re having another dream.

Dreams were pretty rare for you these past few weeks―maybe even months―all because studying hindered your sleep, messed with your energy, and you’re too tired to even dream.

But that doesn’t matter right now, clearly your mind feels good enough to show you a story in your sleep.

A tall boy with green hair and glasses took a small wooden box from his school bag.

Oh, his fingers are taped? What a weird guy.

“I wanted to thank you for letting me copy your notebook,” he said. “These are custom-made rolly pencils used as a last resort for tests.”

“Rolly pencils?!”

A cute girl with pink hair accepted them, smiling as she did.

“Custom means you made it yourself?” said your person.

The green-haired boy grins, lifting his glasses. “That’s what giving your utmost best is all about.”

“Nah,” your hand shook, denying what he said. “You put on airs and say all that stuff, but it’s still super lame!”

Who the hell is your soulmate. You can’t tell if he’s funny or mean.

“Ah! There are three of them! I’ll give you one, Tetsu-kun,” the girl said, handing one pencil to a boy with blue hair.

“Oh, are you sure?” asked he.

“Yeah!” the girl nods. “Studying for tests will be tough with a sprained wrist, right? So, it’s a little gift to cheer you on!”

The boy smiles, looking at the pencil. “I’ll take it then.”

You wake up with a sigh.

It was an adorable dream, honestly. You couldn’t help but be happy for your soulmate who had such fun friends.

Well, it was fun while it lasted. You wish you had those kinds of friends. Must be nice…

You shake the dream out of your head and started getting ready for school. You take a glance at your study table, still messy from your nightly study sessions that you force on yourself before you go to sleep. There are even nights when you don’t allow yourself to rest if you didn’t study at least three subjects.

It’s okay, though. Studying is necessary and you should be mature enough to understand and accept that. Yes, be mature, y/n. messing around wouldn’t get you anywhere in life.

You head out, feeling a little relaxed thanks to that one good sleep you’ve had in months.

The sky has the most perfect looking clouds, the wind feels nice as it moves past you, the neighbor’s dog is asleep, you didn’t forget anything at home.

You smile slightly as you walk.

Kise Ryota woke up with heavy breaths.

What was that dream? Oh, god, he just woke up and he’s already sweating.

As he gets dressed in his usual uniform and packed his things, he can’t get that dream out of his head.

No, no, it should be a nightmare, right? Why is that… oh god, I hope they’re okay.

During morning practice he ranted to his friend.

“Isn’t it horrible, Kasamatsu-senpai?” He pouts, sitting on the bench as he wipes his face. “Even Greek philosophers wouldn’t study so much that they’d black out.”

“Since when did you know anything about Greek philosophers?” his senpai spouts.

Kise blinked. Right, since when did he know about those? “Maybe it was in my dream? Oh, there was that one cute Plato keychain my soulmate has…” He smiles dreamily, thinking of how cute the keychain looked. “No, that’s not important! What’s important is that my soulmate had a nose bleed and fainted because they were overworking―oh my god, they could be dead by now!”

“They’re not, you moron. Shut up already.”

In the classroom, you stare at the window past the boy to your left. You know you should be studying right now for your next class but you wanted to tone it down since you were still scared of exceeding your own limitations.

You wouldn’t forget how humiliating that hospital room is. You should’ve known better.

“Staring at me, l/n-chan?”

“Oh, how annoying,” you speak in a monotone voice. “I was admiring how beautiful the view is if only you weren’t there. Mind moving, Kise-kun?” You scowl at him.

“Tsk, tsk, l/n-san you should learn your manners. We’re in high school, we should be mature.” The blond grins, lifting his chin up.

“Huh? What do you know about maturing, you muscle for brains? I don’t think you can even spell that word. You piss me off, could you leave right now piss hair?”

He gives you a dirty look and sighs. “Back then, you avoided me and now you’re bullying me? Aren’t your academics making your head kinda big?”

“Hmm…” you cross your arms. “And what are your idiot brain cells doing? Playing basketball with your brain?”

The science teacher walked in before he could make a comeback.

You turn your back to him, honestly, why the hell is it so upsetting to argue with him?

He’s so irritating.

“I’ll return your pop quizzes now,” the teachers announced as the abundance of sighs mixed together in the classroom.

Your nerves started getting to you. What if you did horribly? What if you answered an obviously easy question wrong? But you study hard every day, there’s no way you could do poorly on such a simple quiz.

You take your paper and sigh in relief that you got a perfect score.

The blonde peeked at your result and pouted. “Perfect, as always.”

You smile at him. “Well, yeah, I’m not you.”

He glares at you. Why did you have to rub it in like that? You’re a genius, he gets it, so what? He scoffs.

“So what if I have low scores? At least I don’t validate myself using high grades,” he mutters.

Oh, but you heard it. God, his voice was so clear in your earshot.

You glare at him, which he felt. You felt anger, rage, hate, vexation, and every other synonym for those words.

How dare he talk about you like that? You never liked him form the start because you thought he was just a dumb jock. You got seated next to each other in class and sure, there was this banter on the both of you and you thought to yourself, it’s pretty cute, maybe he’s not that bad, but how dare he say those words.

It hurts because it’s true but it also hurts because it came from him.

“You wouldn’t understand it, Kise,” you spit out, your voice felt dark and meant for him. “You’re talented.”

It hurts.

Chest feeling empty and tears threatening to pour out, you both avoided looking at each other.

As you walk home, the sky still had the most perfect looking clouds, the wind cool as it blows past you, the dog is quietly wagging its tail in the front yard, and you didn’t forget anything.

You don’t feel good anymore.

There was a bitter taste in the back of your throat, your legs feel sluggish, and your bag feels a little heavier that it did this morning. You should study as soon as you get home, snacks are irrelevant as of now. So long as you don’t faint, you’re good.

The next morning, you wake up not caring about the fact that you didn’t have a dream.

Kise took a glance to his right, seeing you quietly study during break time. Were you not going to mock him as usual? You’re not even heading out to buy a snack or a drink.

Was it his fault?

Maybe what he said was too far.

Honestly, the daily arguments with you always felt so bittersweet. He looked forward to talking to you during breaks even if all that talking are just petty fights. He wished it was different, that you both would talk to each other about your day or how you’re craving for a certain item at the cafeteria, but no.

He just has to fight back like that every single time and look where it led him.

Kise remembers the dream he had.

Oh god, he feels even worse about it now. What if that was also how you act behind closed doors? No, wait…

You act like that even when you’re right beside him.

Always studying, not even taking a snack break, hell―you’re doing it right now.

He tries looking at you discreetly.

Did you get thinner? No, he’s imagining it. You don’t look well but you don’t look sick.

At least, not yet.

Kise is scared but as he was punching himself in his mind, he took notice of your open bag and his eyes―usually playful, fun, with a soft gaze, only serious when he’s playing basketball―went wide. He exhaled sharply, trying to look calm. He shouldn’t bother nor alarm you but you…

Your Plato keychain.

He placed his arms on the table and buried his head in it, biting his lower lip harshly just to stop whatever noise he’ll make that would signify his desperate need to stop himself from crying.

He’s going to apologize―

 ―is what he thought but Kise Ryota has no idea how. He, or his friends, never truly apologized for what happened in middle school, and he’s not even familiar with this kind of feeling because he never really gets into emotional quarrels.

He’s actually thinking now. So that’s why your arguments felt so bittersweet.

L/n-chan’s my soulmate and I… I did that.

He failed you.

“Kise, what are you doing?! Stand up already!”

The sounds of his teammates and coach calling for him felt like background noise at this point.

Ah, he’s thinking too much, his brain is gonna hurt.

“And what are your idiot brain cells doing? Playing basketball with your brain?”

Kise clearly remembers your sneer as you said that.

He should really get on the court now but how in the world is he going to confess to you when all he’s ever experienced is being confessed to? If that’s not enough of a challenge, you literally hate him right now.

You look at the time on your phone.

6:01 AM

Gosh, you forgot to sleep.

You honestly feel so tired but that doesn’t matter right now. You need to do better. You need to do so much better so that stupid dumb blonde can’t even speak in your direction anymore.

You need to be better than him. You have to beat the audacity that his talents gave him. It’s fine if you don’t play basketball but you are going to have to be better than him in everything else. As for now, nothing matters but making him shut up.

So you walk to school not noticing the weather or the dog.

Kise fidgets in his seat. He’s imagined the scenario a million times in his head now.

He can do it. The technique is to strike first.

But when he saw you walk inside the classroom, his face felt frozen.

You look so tired.

Did you even sleep? Why are you… it’s his fault. It’s his fault, oh my god, shame on him. He’s going to talk to you now.

“L/n-chan!” he exclaims as soon as you take a seat, making you jolt on your chair. He faces you with a serious expression. Good, you’re looking at him, even if you’re looking like he’s an ugly blob fish that your uncle brought home after a long day of fishing. It’s fine. He has your attention.

“I’m challenging you to a battle!” He points his finger at you. “In the next two weeks, I’ll beat your scores in the exams.”

Ha?

What is he talking about? God, he really is arrogant. Defeat you? Your scores? In the exams? It’s like he knew that you wanted to shut him up and is now wanting to make you shut up.

You glare at him.

His whole-body freezes but recovers immediately.

Why did he say that?! Wasn’t he supposed to apologize and confess to you? Oh my god, Ryota, how in the world are you so famous with girls?

He clears his throat. “I-I won’t lose so… there!” And immediately turned his back to you.

If I win, I’ll tell them how I feel.

Oh, but he has to study now.

But just to make sure, he grabbed his phone from his bag and sent an email to his friend.

‘Kurokocchi can I please please borrow your rolly pencil next next week?? >.<’

Thank god his friend agreed after three days of him begging because there was no way in hell Midorimacchi would lend him his.

Despite the rolly pencil, he still studied his hardest for the remaining days even during his break time in practice. Kasamatsu didn’t have the heart to kick him for it because it was shocking to his friend studying no matter how many times he saw it.

You slouched as you deadpanned the big poster revealing everyone’s exam results.

Of course he didn’t defeat you―actually, he wasn’t even close.

You were at first place and he was at 29.

Now, where was the idiot who decided to challenge you? Ah, he’s behind the tree.

You stare at Kise, waiting for him to reveal himself but he didn’t. He stayed behind that tree and was late on 4th period.

When lunch time arrived, you smiled. “Congratulations on 29th place, Kise-kun.”

He felt like crying but his lips remained in a pout as he ate his lunch. Kasamatsu might look for him right now because he’s been slacking with practice but he doubts his senpai would go out of his way during lunch.

“I really thought you had some sort of genius hiding in that skull of yours. Is all that’s in there is a deflated basketball?” You mocked a laugh. “It must be, it even suits your posture right now.”

He kept blinking, trying to block your mocking voice.

Why the hell do you sound so sweet? He knows he lost but right now he’s honestly just feeling so giddy that you’re talking to him, though upset that you’re still making fun of him as always.

Maybe he should just be the dumb guy if it means you’re going to talk to him again, though.

Well, he is the dumb guy.

“I swear, if you hate me, just say it to my face. You don’t have to go to such drastic measures―”

“L/n-chan, I like you! What are you talking about?!” he exclaimed, eyes wide. You thought he hates you? Why would you think that? “Even if all we really do is fight, I absolutely adore you! I didn’t really get it myself at first but the more I tried to think, the more I realized how much I like you.” He sniffles.

“Fucking pardon?” Kise flinches. Why does your voice sound like that? He thought even if you didn’t like him very much, the fact that your soulmates would at least make your reaction a little nicer. Why do you sound so angry?

The nerve! Oh my god, for how long could his arrogance make him live in this earth? Surely, he must be running out, right? But he said he likes you and he sounds like he means it.

Who cares? He’s pompous, stupidly tall, and just overall stupid! How dare he challenge you only to then declare his feelings after losing?

Do jocks really not have any manners?

But you wouldn’t deny that it felt nice to hear his feelings for you.

Just maybe…

“‘At the touch of love, everyone becomes a poet’,” you recite. “Plato once said that.”

“Huh?”

“But clearly, you can’t be one even if you’re in love,” you sigh. “Denied.”

“Huh?”

Who are you kidding? Even if, let’s say, he’s your soulmate, you wouldn’t want to be in a relationship with a man who can’t even get to the top ten in the charts.

“L/n-chan?”

You give him a sharp glare. “You’re really expecting me to be all blushy and kind just because you said you like me? You must be kidding. Aren’t you supposed to beat me first before you confess your feelings?”

He blinks, then he blinks again.

And again.

And again.

“T-then…” Stupid Ryota! You should’ve known this is how they are! They literally tease you whenever they look at your direction and does nothing else, of course this won’t be easy! “could you help me out?”

You chuckled. “Now you have the nerve to make me help you? What chivalry!”

You relax in your seat, still facing the flustered blonde, not removing the smirk on your face. “But, well… can you even keep up with me?”

The fact that he reached 29th place is nowhere near impressive for you but the improvement of his scores is definitely noticeable. This guy usually fails all his exams.

His face brightened.

“What? Too much of a dummy to speak?”

“I’ll follow you forever y/ncchi!” he beams. “I promise I’ll do my hardest even if all you do is teach me while mocking me―”

“Kise!” The booming voice of his senpai suddenly shook him out of his lovesickness.

“Uh―Kasamatsu-senpai?! Why…?”

“Exams are over so you can practice now, right…?”

Oh god, he can feel his senpai’s anger to the point that Kise’s considering jumping out of the window.

He looks at you, readying his pouty face so that you’d help him only to see your sneering face. “Oh my, oh my, you should go talk to your teammate, Kise-kun~”

Should’ve known you’d react like this.

“Yes, senpai!” the blonde huffs and jogs toward his upperclassman.

“Say y/ncchi,” Kise spoke as he takes your bag. “Can we stop by somewhere? It won’t be far, I promise.”

“Where is it?” you ask. “It’s only been two days and you already want to take me somewhere?” You grin as you wiggle your eyebrows.

He laughs. “It’s not like that―”

“At least take me to dinner first, honestly, how are you so popular with girls? Is the only requirement being an athlete and a model?” you grumble while crossing your arms.

He smiles softly at you. It’s honestly funny how you both still get into petty arguments but instead of that bittersweet feeling, he’s now really happy to have a nonsensical banter with you.

“I swear, my intentions are pure.” He raises his right hand to a salute and continued on walking with you. “I just have to return something to a friend.”

You hum in response.

“Ah, but if you want, we could stop by for dinner,” he mumbles, looking down while playing with his fingers. “I mean… if you want to, of course, but if you wanna go home that’s totally fine too!”

“Oh, but I have to study today,” said you. You took a peek at his expression and it was obvious that he was about to pout but is stopping himself from doing so. “Kidding,” you giggle.

He softly chuckles. “Well, let’s go now.”

“Are you sure I can wait beside you?” you mumble.

“It’s fine, it’s fine! Kurokocchi wouldn’t mind meeting you―”

“Good afternoon,” a soft voice suddenly greets.

Blue hair?

“Kurokocchi! Here’s your rolly pencil,” Kise chimed, handing him the pencil. “Thanks for letting me borrow it.”

“It’s no problem. Did you get the perfect score you were aiming for?” the boy, ‘Kurokocchi,’ asked in which the blonde sighs.

“No, but I have y/ncchi helping me study now!” Your friend smiles, pulling you closer to him by your shoulder. “This is l/n y/n-chan, y/ncchi, he’s Kuroko Tetsuya-kun.”

“It’s nice to meet you, l/n-san,” the boy greets.

“Yes, nice to meet you too, Kuroko-kun…”

Tetsuya-kun…

“It’s nice meeting the both of you but I’ll be going now. I’ll see you both some time.”

“Yeah,” Kise nods. “Let’s hang out sometime with Midorimacchi!”

The blue haired boy smiles and nods as he walks away.

You stare at that shade of blue until he slowly disappears in the distance.

“Hey, Ryota-kun,” you call.

“Hm?” he looks at you, you look back.

“Are we soulmates?”

“Huh?”

“It’s just… that Kuroko Tetsuya-kun and the rolly pencils…”

“Huh… so that’s what you dreamed about me?”

“What? You know? That we’re soulmates―wait, we’re actually soulmates?”

He blinks. “Did I not tell you?”

[tuiccim]

Dimensional Pain

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 3363

Warnings: Angst, minor violence, fluff, implied smut.

Squares filled: Heartbreak for @star-spangled-bingo. 

A/N: This is for the HBC’s @the-ss-horniest-book-club Drunk Drabbles / Divider by @firefly-graphics

Earth-616

“Everything ready for the test?” Bruce asks as he comes into the lab. 

“Looks like it.” You say. 

“Everything is ready. I’ve figured this thing out down to the molecular level.” Tony grins. 

You roll your eyes at his overconfidence. The machine was an unknown entity that you thought may be an interstellar communication device but, truthfully, no one knew what it really did. You, Bruce, and Tony had studied each part of it in the lab and, now that you had gleaned all the information you could, the only option left was to run a test. 

“Alright, let’s do this.” You say. 

“The honor is all yours.” Tony grins. 

You switch on the machine with 10% power and look at the readouts, “This is strange.”

“Let’s turn the power up.” Tony says as he turns the dial. “This is fascinating. I’m going to full power.”

Tony cuts the power, “Are you okay?”

“What the hell were you thinking? Have you lost your mind? We don’t know what this is!” You yell before turning to him. Your brow furrows as you take him in. Something was different but you shake it away. 

“These readings are insane!” Tony exclaims. “Bruce, do you see this?”

“Look at these spikes.” Bruce’s face is alight as he goes over readings. 

“Am I still alive? Hello?” You shout. 

“Oh, yeah, yeah. Are you okay?” Tony asks already turning back to the computer

“Fine.” You grouse. “I’m done for the day.”

“But look at this!” Bruce looks at you but his smile fades when you look at him with a murderous gaze. “Yeah, you should, uh, take a break.” He stammers as you walk out. 

Things feel strange as you wander through the hallways but still you can’t put your finger on it. You are steps from your bedroom when Bucky comes out of it and nearly collides with you. 

“Hey Doll.” Bucky grins as he wraps his arms around you and pulls you to him for a kiss. 

You push away from him shocked. “What are you doing? Why were you in my room?” You ask, wide-eyed.

“What are you talking about, Doll? I was just heading to find you for lunch.” Bucky says.

“Why?” You look at him surprised.

“So we could eat together.” Bucky says, “Are you okay, Doll?”

“Wh-, I, you… Why were you in my room, Bucky?”

“What’s wrong, Doll? What did I do wrong? As far as I knew, it was still our room.”

“Our room? What the hell are you talking about?” You burst through the door and look around the room. Everything is different. There is a king bed instead of your queen and all the furniture has been moved. The colors are different. You walk back out again to make sure you are in the right room and walk back in again. “What the fuck?”

“Doll?”

“Is this a prank?” You are beginning to panic. “Bucky! Is this a prank? It isn’t funny!”

“Doll, you’re starting to scare me.”

“This isn’t funny Bucky! Stop it!” You yell. 

“Hey!” Tony enters the room with Bruce at his heels, “We have a few theories on what we think happened. Uh…” Tony’s eyes bounce between you and Bucky. 

“Okay?” You prompt.

“We don’t think you belong here.” Bruce says. 

“What does that mean?” You furrow your brows.

“We think the machine has something to do with space-time continuum.” Tony says. 

“Tony, Wha… Did I go forward in time?” You look at him incredulously. 

“More like sideways.” Bruce says. 

“Sideways? Dimensionally?!?” You exclaim. 

“Yes.” Tony looks at you with a smirk and you can see his scientific mind turning it’s wheels. 

“This is a different dimension?” You ask. 

“Well, let’s compare some notes and see.” Bruce says. 

“Are you and Natasha together?” You look at him. 

“Uh, we broke up, kinda.” Bruce says. 

“Are you and Pepper married?” You turn to Tony.

“Engaged.” Tony says. 

Looking at Bucky your heart hurts, “And we’re together?”

“We’re not together in your dimension?” Bucky asks. 

“No. We’re just friends.”

“We’re going to have to get into that later.” Tony says and then calls for an emergency meeting of the Avengers. You move to the conference room and watch as each of your team members filter in. They were your team and they weren’t. It was utterly confusing as you watch Natasha, then Steve, Sam, Wanda, and Vision walk in.

Once everyone settles in Tony explains the situation you currently find yourself in. You spend a couple of hours going back and forth with the team about the historical and scientific differences of each of your dimensions. 

“Can we reverse this?” Steve asks. 

“I don’t know but Bruce and I will work on it.” Tony answers truthfully. 

“This is twisted.” Natasha says. 

“Yeah.” You scoff. 

Bucky’s eyes zero in on your hand. The ring he had placed on your finger only a few weeks ago was gone. Seeing it missing tore at his heart. “We have to fix this.” Bucky says emphatically to Tony and Bruce. 

“We know.” Tony says.

“We’re going to fix this.” Bruce says kindly. 

“You damn well better,” Bucky growls.

“We’ll get her back.” Tony says. 

“Preferably before the wedding.” Natasha quips.

“Wedding?” You look at Natasha for understanding. 

“You and Bucky got engaged a few weeks ago.” Natasha says softly.

“We… we did?” You look at Bucky. 

“Yea. I’m engaged to the other you.” Bucky turns back to Tony, “And I want my fiancee back!”

“We’ll get her back, Bucky! Until then, you’ll be confined to the building.” Tony says turning his attention to you. 

“Are you serious?” You ask.

“It’s for the best.” Steve says reassuringly. 

“Yeah, so is this.” You turn and punch Tony as hard as you can. Tony doubles over as Steve grabs your arms. 

“HEY!” Steve yells.

“No, no, I deserved that.” Tony waves him off as he holds his face. 

You pull your arms from Steve’s grip and stare down Tony and Bruce, “Let’s get to work. Now.”

--

Three days later, Bucky finds you in the rooftop garden. He watches you for a moment full of longing to hold you in his arms. He found this situation torturous. He was looking at you, at the face of the woman he loves and he can’t touch you. His heart twists as he watches you knowing that it was just as hard, no, harder on you. To have everything be familiar but none of it is yours. You turn to him when you hear his approach. 

“You always come up here when you need to think.” He says.

“Yeah.” You smile sadly. “Will…”

“What?” Bucky asks.

“Will you tell me about us? How did we get together?” You ask.

“Are you sure you want to know, Doll?” Bucky looks at you questioningly. 

“Yeah. In my world, you’re my friend but you… I… we’ve never made that leap.”

“It was the same here.” Bucky says. “We were great friends, worked together, hung out together, everything. Then after one of Tony’s parties we were all hanging out and you tripped over your heels and landed in my lap. You were laughing at yourself and then we just looked at each other. I had been in love with you as long as I had known you and that was our moment. I kissed you and you kissed me back and the team cheered like they’d been waiting for us to finally realize we were meant to be together.” Bucky smiles with tears in his eyes as he looks at you. 

“I took them off.” You whisper. “I took off my heels.”

“What?” Bucky asks. 

“The party. I took off my heels before I got up because they were hurting my feet. I told you good night and patted your shoulder as I walked past. I missed it. I missed our moment.” Tears cloud your eyes as you realize. 

“Do you love me? Him. Your Bucky?”

You nod. “Almost since I met him.”

“What’s stopping you?” Bucky asks. 

“I didn’t realize he feels that way for me.”

“Almost since he first met you. If he’s as smart as I am.” Bucky smiles at you sweetly. 

“Thank you, Bucky.” You smile and reach out to hug him. 

“No!”

You jump back, wide-eyed and gape at him, “I’m sorry! I’m sorry I didn’t mean-”

“It’s not you, doll. It’s me. I can’t- I can’t touch you.” Bucky says. 

You nod and hug yourself, “I understand. Sorry.” Moving away quickly, you look back at him only when you reach the door. Giving him a quick smile, you go through. 

--

Two more weeks and Bucky is nearly a mad man. Tony and Bruce avoid him like a plague and you know him seeing you is killing him. Everytime he sees you his face lights up for half a second before it falls with realization that you aren’t his. You had worked with Tony and Bruce on a solution, run scenarios, and had even recklessly tried some runs. Today, however, you rush through the compound looking for Tony and Bruce and pause as you nearly run past Bucky.

“Come with me.” You shout and run for the lab. “I have an idea!”

“Doll?” Bucky follows you. 

Tony and Bruce are in the lab and stare, eyes bouncing from you to Bucky. 

“We haven’t been able to recreate the experiment because we don’t know when the other me will be trying. I have an idea. Bucky, is my grandmother here named Brigid?”

“Um, yeah.” Bucky says. 

“Tomorrow is St. Brigid’s Day.”

“Okay. We still need a time.” Bruce says carefully. 

“She’ll try on the angelus. We’ll have three chances.” You explain. 

“The angelus?” Tony raises an eyebrow. 

“6, 12, and 6. The time of prayers.” You explain. “Look, it’s worth a shot, right?”

“I’ve had worse ideas.” Tony smirks. 

“Many.” You grouse, narrowing your eyes at him.

“We’ll get this done.” Bruce says turning back to his computer. 

 “I’m going home tomorrow.” You look at Bucky, “And she’s coming home.”

---

Meanwhile on Earth-678…

“These readings are insane!” Tony exclaims. “Bruce, do you see this?”

“Look at these spikes.” Bruce’s face is alight as he goes over readings. 

“Am I still alive? Hello?” You shout. 

“Oh, yeah, yeah. Are you okay?” Tony asks already turning back to the computer

“Fine.” You grouse. “I’m done for the day.”

“But look at this!” Bruce looks at you but his smile fades when you look at him with a murderous gaze. “Yeah, you should, uh, take a break.” He stammers as you walk out. 

Things feel strange as you wander through the hallways but still you can’t put your finger on it. You are steps from your bedroom when Bucky comes out of his old room and nearly collides with you. 

“Oh, thank God.” You say as you wrap your arms around his torso and hug him to you. “Tony tried to kill me with that flipping device.”

“Uh, hey, doll.” Bucky says wrapping his arms around you awkwardly. 

“Baby? What’s the matter?” You look at him concerned.

“Baby?” Bucky looks at you like you’ve lost your mind. 

You let go of him and back away with your stomach in knots, “What’s the matter with you?”

“Why are you calling me baby?”

“That’s what I always call you.”

“Hey!” Tony jogs towards you with Bruce at his heels, “We have a few theories on what we think happened. Uh…” Tony’s eyes bounce between you and Bucky. 

“Okay?” You prompt.

“We don’t think you belong here.” Bruce says. 

“What does that mean?” You furrow your brows.

“We think the machine has something to do with space-time continuum.” Tony says. 

“Tony, wha… Did I go back in time?” You look at him incredulously. 

“More like sideways.” Bruce says. 

“Sideways? Dimensionally?!?” You exclaim. 

“Yes.” Tony looks at you with a smirk and you can see his scientific mind turning it’s wheels. 

“This is a different dimension?” You ask. 

“Well, let’s compare some notes and see.” Bruce says. 

“Are you and Natasha broken up?” You look at him. 

“No, we’re still together.” Bruce says. 

“Are you and Pepper engaged?” You turn to Tony.

“Married.” Tony says. 

Looking at Bucky your heart hurts, “And we’re not together?”

“We’re together in your dimension?” Bucky asks. 

“Uh, yeah.” You hold up your left hand showing your engagement ring. 

“We’re engaged?” Bucky’s eyes grow wide. 

“Yeah.” You say softly. 

“But you... I… how?.” Bucky says. 

“We’re going to have to get into that later.” Tony says and then calls for an emergency meeting of the Avengers. You moved to the conference room and watched as each of your teammates filters in. They were your team and they weren’t. It is utterly confusing as you watch Natasha, Steve, Sam, Wanda, and Vision walk in.

Once everyone settles in Tony explains the situation you currently find yourself in. You spend a couple of hours going back and forth with the team about the historical and scientific differences of each of your dimensions. 

“Can we reverse this?” Steve asks. 

“I don’t know but Bruce and I will work on it.” Tony answers truthfully. 

“You keep twisting your engagement ring.” Natasha says. 

“Uh, yeah. Nervous habit.” You say. 

Bucky’s eyes zero in on the ring on your finger remembering your earlier conversation before his eyes find yours. 

“Who are you engaged to?” Natasha asks. 

“Uh… who am I with in this dimension?” You look at Natasha. 

“You’re single here. So…?” Natasha raises an eyebrow. 

“Um, I’m engaged to Bucky.” You look at him as you say it. 

“I knew it.” Natasha smirks. 

“What?” Bucky looks at Natasha.

“Oh, come on, you’ve been pining for her forever.” Natasha giggles.

“Nat!” Bucky exclaims. 

“We did pine for a while.” You smirk and then your face falls realizing even more now that, as familiar as your surroundings are, this isn’t home. This isn’t your Bucky and this isn’t your family. 

“We’re going to fix this.” Bruce says kindly. 

“Until then, you’ll be confined to the building.” Tony says. 

“Are you serious?” You ask.

“It’s for the best.” Steve says reassuringly. 

“Yeah, so is this.” You turn and punch Tony as hard as you can. Tony doubles over as Steve grabs your arms. 

“HEY!” Steve yells.

“No, no, I deserved that.” Tony waves him off as he holds his face. 

You pull your arms from Steve’s grip, “I’ll be in my room. Or what I assume is my room.”

You stand in the middle of the room that is this dimension’s yours. It’s the same as it was before you and Bucky moved in together. Your heart ached. You needed comfort desperately but the person who comforted you the most was a dimension away and this Bucky was still just your friend. You stare around the room and wrap your arms around yourself. Your mind raced and you decided to throw yourself into the only other thing that could possibly help at this point. 

“FRIDAY, tell Tony and Bruce to get back to the lab. Now.”

---

Three days later. This was torture Bucky thought to himself as he made his way to your room. He had finally decided to tell you how he felt and now this. He wanted to be with you so badly, but you aren't his. Or you are his but not in this dimension. So, does that mean you feel the same way about him? How different are the dimensions?

He knocks softly on your door and stands frozen for a minute when you open it. Longing is thick between you. 

“Hey.” You break the silence. 

“Hey, Doll. I mean… is it okay for me to call you doll?”

“Yeah. It’s what you’ve always called me. It’s... comforting. I’m sorry. This is insane. I’m going to lose my mind. I need you but I can’t have you because you aren’t mine. I… I…” You bury your head in your hands. 

“Come sit down, Doll.” Bucky guides you to the couch. 

“I’m sorry.” 

“It’s okay. You’re okay. This is all very strange for you.”

“Yeah.” You nod.

“Will you tell me? Tell me about your world.”

“How about I tell you about what you really want to know?”

“What’s that?” Bucky smiles.

“Us.” 

---

2 weeks later

Bucky watches you from across the dinner table. You were drawn and had lost weight. The failed experiments had depressed you and Bucky ached for you. He wanted to hold you, to comfort you, but he couldn’t. You weren’t his to touch. Any justifications he could come up with were empty. He finds you in your room afterwards.

“Hey Doll. You okay?” Bucky asks.

You close your eyes. The pain at looking at him and being unable to touch him at this point is unbearable. It was as if there was a magnet pulling the two of you together and the only thing keeping you apart was the understanding that you weren’t you. Not the right you. 

Two weeks of this and your brain still hurt.  Everything was familiar and foreign. Bucky was the best and worst part of it. At least you had part of him but at the same time it was torture not to have all of him. 

“B-Bucky. Will you hold me? Please? Just hold me. Nothing else. Please.”  

“Is that a good idea, doll?”

“No but I need it.”

Bucky settles onto your couch and you sit in his lap, wrapping your arms around him and sobbing. After a while, you pull a little away. “Thank you. I miss my Bucky. I want to go home.”

“I know, doll. I know. Go to bed. Things will look better tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow. February 1. February 1st! Saint Brigid’s Day! I have to find Tony. FRIDAY! Tell Tony and Bruce to meet me in the lab. Now!”

“Doll, what are you talking about?” Bucky runs after you. 

“I have the answer. I’m going home!” You shout.  

--

The next day you stood ready at 5:59 am for the first try. Tony had complained about the early hour until you silenced him with a look and fisted hand. Bucky and Bruce stood across the room watching the computer with the rest of the team. 

“If this works, thank you all. It’s been interesting knowing you.” You smile at them. “And, Bucky, she loves you. Don’t waste anymore time.”

Bucky grins at you and nods. The clock changes to 6 and you and Tony begin. Everything repeats the same as last time until the flash of light engulfs you again. Once it dissipates, you look around hopefully. 

“Doll?” Bucky asks. 

You stare at him for a moment before turning to Tony, “Married or engaged?”

“Married.” Tony says carefully. 

You burst into tears and grin, “It worked! It worked!”

“Doll!” You are picked up off of your feet and wrap your arms around his neck. 

When he sets you down, you look up at him, “Did we miss our moment?”

“No, Doll, no. This is our moment.” Bucky says before kissing you for the first time. 

---

Earth-616

“If this works, thank you all. It’s been interesting knowing you.” You smile at them.

“Find your moment, doll.” Bucky grins at you and you nod at him smiling. The clock changes to 6 and you and Tony begin. Everything repeats the same as last time until the flash of light engulfs you again. Once it dissipates, you look around hopefully. 

“Doll?” Bucky asks. 

You stare at him for a moment before turning to Tony, “Married or engaged?”

“Engaged.” Tony says carefully. 

You burst into tears and run to Bucky’s arms. He picks you up and walks out of the lab with you. Passion and desperation overtake you both and you don’t even make it to the bed. You end up making love on the floor of your room. Kisses, thrusts, and moans as you finally make it home, your real home. 

Masterlist

Permanent: @badassbaker @thefridgeismybestie @strangersstranger @cherthegoddess @sherlocksmanwatson @cap-n-stuff @finleyjayne @caplanreads @connie326 @daydreamerinadazedworld @bugsbucky @chrisevanscardigan @harrysthiccthighss @palaiasaurus64​ @rebekahdawkins @tllynn15​ @learisa​ @jelly-fishy-babie​ @fistmebuckyskywalker​ @nerdy-bookworm-1998​ @liebs82​ @stuckyslutt​ @a-really-bi-girl​ @saiyanprincessswanie​ @baddie-barnes​ @aikeia​ @paleo-runaway​ @marvelgirl7​ @starlightcrystalline​ @xxloki81xx​ @kcd15​ @slytherinambitious​ @sallycanwait68​ @slytherdorxmd​ @fangirlforever2412​ @rainbowkisses31​ @whisperlullaby​ @thejemersoninferno​ @thehumanistsdiary​ @supraveng​ @dispatchvampire​ @juenenfeu​ @sxbby-barnes​ @allonszassbutt​ @y-napotat​ @is-it-madness​ @harold231​ @buckysbaby32​ @purselover2​ @ene-rene​ @chrisevansbaby​ @mrsbarnes-rogers​ @sarahp879​ @rosesanchez12298806​ @xxpapasfritasxx​ @whiskeytangofoxtrot555​ @softie-socks​ @bestofbucky​ @bella-bear03​ @randomfandompenguin​ @jjsoccer11​ @hiddles-rose​ @courtneychicken​ @prbykt​ @awaywithtime​ @automatic-tragedy​ @ximebebx​ @magnoliamermaid​ @milkymil-k​ @get-me-some-chai-bitch​ @freckleblaze​ @ofatabuna @angrythingstarlight​ @unknownmystery22​ @buckysnumberonegirl​ @buckyfan12​

[vintage-writes]

Because it's You (Part 1) | H.P. Lovecraft x Reader

Request: "BSD Lovecraft x female reader. What if the reader isn’t afraid of him and asks to see his true form and she thinks his true form looks cool? Soulmate au. Fluff to smut. Maybe he could use his ability in the smut part if that’s ok?"

Pairing: H.P. Lovecraft x Fem!Reader

Summary: (Soulmate AU), From birth you're soulmate has always been a mystery even his mark was hard to decipher but as he stands before you, you realize that there is far more to the man they call Lovecraft.

Warnings: NSFW, Fluff to Smut. The smut is right at the end so you are able to read until the warning. Dom!Lovecraft x Brat!Reader 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 3363

A/N: By Far my longest fic yet and one of the more interesting ones to write. Lovecraft strikes me as a character that cares deeply but says very little when speaking with his s/o. As Always, Enjoy :)

“Soulmate Au, where you have a mark on your wrist that represents your soulmate that becomes colour when you meet them”

From birth you’ve always had a rather strange mark. Your parents figured that perhaps when you were older the mark would look a bit different but instead it remained in the strange shape. The mark appears to be sludge? A flower? It’s a rather messy pile of something, topped with bat wings? You’ve sat and tried to decipher it for years up until today, you’re still unsure as to what it could represent.

You even took up art classes and tried to redraw the mark with different shapes and colours. At the end of the day, you’re not sure what it means. You only hope that it’s not a pile of drugs topped with wads of cash or something. You wouldn’t want your soulmate to be some sort of drug dealer. In any case, those art classes paid off and you’re currently in charge of your own studio.

You walk down the street and breathe in the damp Yokohama air. The air is musty but it’s to be expected as your current route for the day leads you past the port. The port is loud and chatty, people are gossiping everywhere about Yokohama’s most recent events. You pick up keywords here and there such as: “Port Mafia”, “Guild”, “detectives” and so on and so forth.

You spot a nearby Hawker selling newspapers and you decide to ask him about the commotion. The man holds out a newspaper with an incredulous look. “You don’t know? It’s about the whale that dropped out of the sky the other day. Some organization from overseas was behind it. They’re also linking it to a car crash in the mountains. Bah! But I know nothing. You’ll have to buy a paper to know more.”

You give him your own incredulous look before purchasing a paper. You skim it as you walk and learn about the hero Agency. As you flip over the page your eye catches onto the photo. A tall figure shrouded in black is standing next to a short ‘farm boy’. The photo is somewhat grainy but clear enough to see that the man has sharp features. He looks quite handsome.

You shake your head. No. He’s a criminal. You skim through the rest of the article but the photo is just so eye-catching. You run a finger over the image. He has long hair that blends into his coat. It’s hard to tell just how long his hair is. A mysterious aura surrounds such a person, perhaps if you are lucky, you could one day sketch the planes of his face.

Right, because you’re definitely going to chase down the mystery man just to draw him. You roughly bundle up the newspaper and shove it into your bag. You look up and realise that along your walk you’ve obviously gotten a bit lost and have wandered into a deserted part of the harbour. You spin around quickly, intending to retrace your steps when you slam into a wall and topple over.

A wall? But you’ve just come this way. You raise your eyes and meet another pair of sharp purple ones. They are oddly striking. The figure stands in front of you, as tall and immovable as a statue. An odd sensation flushes over you and you suddenly feel as if you know this person. Of course, this is the striking man from the paper. His mysterious aura seems to have followed him off of the page and into reality.

He cocks his head at you, allowing long strands of hair to fall. His hair is as dark as ink and much longer than you had assumed.

“Sorry”, he mutters and extends his right hand towards. The invitation warms your heart. You swallow down the feeling, you’ve only met the man.

You latch on to his hand as he lifts you up gently. His fingers are very long and slender. He has the hands of an artist. They are also freezing cold. He looks down and pauses and while not letting go of your hand, he turns your intertwined hands so his wrist faces upwards. A beautiful Iris adorns his wrist. The colours are breathtaking in your eyes. The Iris is a truly a beautiful flower and his specific mark has captured the varying hues of purple and blue perfectly. It is your favourite flower and the flower that gave its name to your studio and a collection of paintings you’ve created.

You want to run your fingers over it but before you can do that, he flips his wrist over so that your mark now faces upwards. The odd mark has now been graced with an assortment of light greens. With shading the mark has become both clearer and yet all the more confusing. He eyes your mark and then his before he finally raises his eyes to meet your own. He scans your face before he lets go of your hand.

He leans down to pick up your bag before placing it into your arms. And without a word, he spins on his heel and begins to walk away.

What? Where the fuck does he think he’s going?

You sling your bag over your shoulder and follow after him. “Uh Hey, wait!”, you shout after him. “Can we talk?”

He doesn’t spare you a glance as you begin to jog to match his speed. You jog beside him but he seems intent on marching forward with his long legs. You’re sure he would walk through a wall at this rate.

“Please wait, can we just talk for two minutes? I’m not sure what I did but maybe if you tell me, I can fix it.”

Nothing. Talking really isn’t your strong suit but you absolutely have to speak to this man. His hard features barely flinch. You’re beginning to feel flustered and tears are welling up at the back of your eyes.

“Oi, Lovecraft, ‘been looking for you everywhere!”, a shout echoes.

The man, Lovecraft, finally stops in his tracks and looks back. A shorter man in overalls is sauntering down the pathway with a cocky smile on his face. Lovecraft looks him over once before turning his attention towards you.

“You should leave-”, he suddenly stops.

His eyes widen as he sees you. Your face has reddened and a few tears have slipped past. His face makes you want to cry harder and you bite your lower lip in frustration. He sighs before turning towards the other man and stepping in front of you.

“Go away, John.”

John throws him a confused look. He begins to circle you both but Lovecraft proceeds to shield you from the other’s sight.

“Now”,says Lovecraft.

John throws up his hands in surrender and says, “Alright. Alright. I’m leaving but you stay safe pal.”

He then turns and leaves but not without a few glances your way but Lovecraft doesn’t move until he’s out of sight.

Lovecraft turns and looks at you and you feel dwarfed by his size. He sighs, “Fine, two minutes.”

______________________________

You weren’t sure what exactly you wanted to say nor are you sure how serious he is about the time limit. Not wanting to try and win over your soulmate near the harbour surrounded by the tangy smell of oil and fish, you offer to go elsewhere to talk. He agrees and he follows you in silence. You decide that the time spent on the way doesn’t count. You walk side by side and he attracts a few curious looks. The hawker who sold you the newspaper gawks at you as you walk past obviously noticing the resemblance to the picture. You speed up your pace and decide to loop back to your design studio.

You unlock the door and step inside while gesturing to him to follow but his eyes are glued to the sign above the door. More specifically the iris flower that was painted on. The Logo of your design studio.

You laugh awkwardly, “Uhh yeah, I like Iris flowers. I like most plants in general but I think the iris is the best. I made an art series dedicated to the flower and it became quite popular so when I opened the studio I decided to use it as my logo.”

“This is your studio?”

He steps in and scans the surroundings. The studio is messy and you feel embarrassed for not cleaning it up better. Your studio is situated in an old building with tall windows that allow light to filter through. It’s nothing more than a few rooms stuffed with equipment, tables and chairs but it’s your pride and joy. Nothing has pleased you more in the past year then being able to teach students how to paint.

“Yeah, it’s not much.”

“Can I see the paintings?”

You smile sheepishly, “Unfortunately, they’re not here at the moment. They’re at the Art gallery. I do have one piece though that I kept for myself.”

You walk out the room and he trailers after you as you step into your private studio. On the back wall is a canvas with a foreboding size. It looms over the room but the colours are bright and peaceful. It depicts a field of blue and purple Iris flowers, with the closest one being painted in excruciating detail. Lovecraft doesn’t move but simply studies his wrist instead as though comparing the two images.

“So I guess, that’s where the Mark comes from”, you look down at your own mark, a creature that seems indescribably horrifying, “may I ask what this means?”

Lovecraft narrows his eyes at your wrist, “A very good reason to stay away from me. I’m not human.”

You stare at him. His tone doesn’t sound teasing but surely it’s a joke? Have you misread the room?

“I should go”

“NO!” you lunge forward and grab onto the sleeve of his jacket. “I’m not scared or anything.”

Perhaps the situation is strange but you were willing to put in the effort. You lick your chapped lips, his eyes lock onto this particular movement.

“Can we please just try.”

He stares at you carefully before nodding his head.

_______________________

Three months go by and you see him almost everyday. Sometimes he only visits you briefly between classes, sometimes he spends the day in the studio quietly sitting in the corner. He does very little but he constantly keeps watch. Generally though he is sleeping in the corner with his feet propped up while you hum a tune. He almost never bothers you. You also discovered that he has quite the liking for chocolate and ice cream. He often brings you sweet treats as a gift but eats them himself. You’ve decided to keep a few tubs of ice cream at the studio now.

While you two become closer you also took some initiative to look into the Guild which led you down a path of learning about Gifted. Eventually you convinced him to start going out with you. He seems unfamiliar with Japanese food and frankly, Japan as a whole.You are determined to show him what life is like in Yokohama. Today, you’ve convinced him to follow you to the beach.

“So the Guild is disbanded?”

He looks up at you surprised before he responds, “I never really worked for the Guild, I worked for Francis. We had a deal.”

“What was the deal?”

“Doesn’t matter now. The contract has been fulfilled,” he says. Lovecraft has a very strange way of talking. He speaks as little as possible and formally so. Sometimes it feels as though he is speaking in code though.

“Does this contract have to do with you not being human?”, you bite your lip as you throw the question out. This isn’t a subject you’ve touched on again.

“Yes”

“If you’re not human then what are you?”

“I’m not sure what humans would call me”, he pauses before standing up. The breeze catches onto his hair causing it to flutter around him. He faces you with his back to the sea and watches with a smoldering gaze, “Would you like to see.”

You nod. You do not wish to use words fearing that the nervousness you feel would reveal itself. It’s not exactly that you’re scared of him. If anything, you are more scared that your reaction may scare him. He has never been quite so vulnerable.

Slowly, his figure changes. His arms take on a green hue and begin to elongate. His neck straightens up and his eyes sink into his head. While he may have been tall before, nothing could quite prepare you for the creature he’s become. A mass of tentacles of an indescribable horror.

And you simply sit and stare. He does not remain like this for long though. Almost as though he is frightened that you may be scared, his figure shifts back to his original form.

You weren’t entirely sure what you were expecting. But his true matches the mark on your wrist exactly. You approach him but he seems wary. Perhaps, in the past his real form has frightened many people.

You stop and watch him instead. This is the same man who brings you chocolate ice cream every week and then eats it all. Will nap the entire day before waking up and going to dinner with you. Will sleep through an entire movie with his head in your lap while you slip your fingers through his hair. You don’t think you could ever be scared of him.

“Are you scared?”

You shake your head as you step in front of him. “I think you look cool.”

He gives you an incredulous look while holding up his arm which slips into his other form by the turn of his wrist. Your hand gravitates toward it and you run a finger over the length. It’s smooth.

“I really do”, you say and cup his cheeks into your hand. It’s a bit of a stretch up but his look of surprise is precious. “It’s amazing, because it’s you.”

______ (18+)

The Door slams open as Lovecraft drags you into your bedroom. He doesn’t bother to shut the door behind you as he lifts you up and drops you onto the bed. You land heavily and bounce a little. Lovecraft eyes you as he slips his tie and coat off. You feel like a rabbit caught in a trap.

He sheds his shirt off as well but before his hand reaches his belt, he stops.

“You do it.”

A man of little words but infinite power. You nod and slip your loose hair behind your ears. You crawl to the edge of the bed and slip your finger into one of his belt loops, tugging him forward. You lick your lips and decide to make a bold move. He watches you with curious eyes and a heated gaze as you tug him even closer. With one hand you swiftly unbutton his pants but lean forward and bite onto his zipper.

You glance upwards through your eyelashes as you slowly move downwards. The sound of the zipper feels impossibly loud in the silent room, Lovecraft feels impossibly still beneath you. With his black pants moved to the side you flatten your tongue against his clothed cock. Lovecraft moans in surprise and slips his fingers into your hair. He doesn’t tug, simply hovers and suddenly it occurs to you that perhaps this is new territory for him.

You slip his half hard cock out of his underwear and run your tongue over the shaft but he quickly pulls you away by your hair.

“You don’t have to do that.”

You lick your lips and send him a wink, before leaning forward again and slipping the head into your mouth and sucking.Your tongue swirls around his cockhead. He groans.

He twitches in your mouth but once again he pulls you back by your hair, leans down and kisses you roughly. His movements feel desperate as he devours you. He pushes you back onto the bed and begins to strip off your clothes.

His long fingers slide everything off and even snaps a few threads in your shirt. You're left in nothing but your underwear.

One hand traces from your jawline, through the valley of your breasts and slips even lower to hook into your underwear before tearing it off with one swift tug.

“You are looking very pretty for me.”

“Who says it’s for you”, you shoot back.

He smirks. His deep purple eyes penetrate you and he pushes you onto your back. His arms cage you in as he hovers over you. You shrink back into the bed.

“Oh”, he says, his hair falling over his shoulder and brushing against your naked skin. You shiver at the touch but he dips his head down and grazes his teeth against your earlobe before whispering, “you don’t want to look pretty for me?”

“Perhaps I’m looking pretty for men.”

His eyes flash dangerously. “Oh, my sweet, let me show you why other boys cannot compare.”

Fuck, for someone whos diving into new territory, he certainly knows how to set you on fire.

He dives for your neck and licks a line from your collarbone to your jawline.

“Sweet.”

He nips at the skin of your neck before finally moving down to your breasts where he suckles each one into his mouth. His other hand slips between your thighs and he begins to rub your clit. He reaches further down and coats his hand in your slick. He chuckles before breathing against your ear, “You’re so wet.”

You gasp out as his finger slips into you, it’s so long and so cold that the sudden intrusion has you jerk your hips away. But he grabs your hips roughly with his other hand and pins you down onto the bed.

“Don’t tease me”, you whine.

He smiles, “I’m preparing you.”

He stretches you out nicely. All the while he alternates between giving you soft pecks and kisses and devouring your breasts. You keen and whine beneath him as he touches every part of you in the most exciting ways.

Suddenly he grasps his cock, dripping with precum, and gives it a few pumps while reaching into his back pocket for a condom packet. He brings it to his lips and rips open the packet with his teeth. His eyes do not leave yours as he slips the condom on. He lines himself up with your sloppy entrance. He doesn’t move further but instead leans over you more to cradle you into his arms. With a soft peck to your forehead he asks, “Are you ready?”

You kiss him flush on the lips in silent consent. He still doesn’t move so you pull away and whisper into his ear, “Fuck Me”

He chuckles before pushing his cock to your entrance. It’s big. It’s very big and you whine a little as the head pops in. He thrusts back and forth, rubbing you raw while he places little kisses on your collarbone. You mewl on the bed as your nails begin to dig into his back. It feels so good but he’s so big. You are so full.

Finally he bottoms out and groans. “Forgive me.”

He pushes back before slamming back into you. You cry out as he begins his brutal pace. Harsh slapping sounds fill the room as he groans into your ear over and over again. He bites down onto your shoulder as you both finish. He pulls out and throws the condom away. He’s barely drenched in sweat but his hair is plastered to his face. He brushes it away.

“Still thinking of other boys?” he muses with his deep husky voice.

“Like anyone can compare”, you say.

He hums in approval as he flips you on your stomach. You shoot him a confused look as he reaches for a pillow and slides it beneath your hips. Once again, his large build appears above you, another condom packet at his teeth.

“Lovecraft?”

“Spread”

____________________________________

Image: https://www.zerochan.net/2616047

Tag: @ravenina14

[nearmike]

I finally finished the ff I had in drafts since before the summer break;;;

It literally drained me of all energy but it was worth it (I hope… I really hope)

Soooo….. I gave Gax (Gax??? Rustappen??? Verstassell????) ANYWAY ✨ 3363 ✨ a go

(how do the three people who ship 3363 call their ship???)

[smaidjor]

the 21k word novella about e!scott is done guys

Hello, everyone, and welcome to the hit game show 'this isn't what I was supposed to be writing but now there's twenty-one thousand words of this so I guess that's what we're doing now', featuring me, me, me, and me.

Anyways, disclaimers time!

Firstly, this is a work of fiction and any characterizations of the Noxcrew are not intended to reflect on the actual people, more on how I imagine a group of gods who run an event like MCC in universe would be like. Scott's characterization is based entirely off his empires character with a bit of added backstory. All other characters are based roughly off varying smps. Also, empires!Gem and hermitcraft!Gem are the same person in this, though I know canonically they're different characters. Her characterization is based mainly off empires!Gem.

Secondly, some events have been altered. Obviously Empires canon, but also in MCC. More on this in later chapter notes.

Third, there will be content warnings before each chapter as usual. This does get quite dark at points, as e!Scott is not in a good place emotionally like, at all. So be warned!

Finally, if any ccs see this: hello and I am so sorry.

Title: no one loves me now (someday somebody will)

Wordcount: 3363

Chapter title: i'll be with you

Content warnings: heavy self-hatred, suicidal thoughts, light injury.

Summary: MCC!Scott and Empires!Scott are the same person. When the holiday MCC rolls around and Scott is still stuck in his self-imposed exile, some of his friends notice that something is very wrong.

Actual fic under the cut:

Ding.

It’s a small sound, barely audible over the howling of the wind outside, but it fills Scott’s stomach with dread. A communicator is, after all, intended for communication, as its name might suggest. And communication with anyone is the antithesis to the safety of Scott’s isolation. He is many things, but he is not without weakness. No man is. His weakness just happens to be smiles like sunshine and warm embraces rather than the cold touch of steel, something Scott long ago learned not to fear.

Jimmy is his achilles heel, perhaps. Perhaps all his friends are, Jimmy only one amongst the number of people who hold sway- too much sway- over Scott’s aching, frozen heart.

Communication is dangerous, contact with people moreso. He doesn’t know what he’d do with himself if reminded of the everpresent longing for home, for warmth- for something so wonderfully, horribly bittersweet that he doubts he could put a name to it, the feeling of being loved so gently it feels like violence to his scarred, bitter self.

He reaches for the comm, and hesitates.

It could be Shubble, or Katherine, his allies who he’s abandoned.

It could be Gem, who he hurt, or Fwhip or Joey or any of the many people who have reason to hate him.

It could be Jimmy, the sun to Scott’s moon, the fire to his ice, the blazing, beautiful man whose warmth is the kind that makes Scott desperate to never let go.

Ding.

Scott swallows the fear rising in his throat and pulls up the screen. Please not Jimmy, please not Jimmy, he begs the universe.

For once, the universe shows him mercy.

Noxite - 2 unread messages.

Scott clicks on it.

<Noxite> Hey Scott

<Noxite> I got the team list you sent me, but I think there’s some error.

He takes a breath, holding it for a second before letting it all out in a rush, the ice that had formed at his fingertips slowly receding.

<Smajor> what makes you say that?

The response is near instant.

<Noxite> you’re not on here

<Noxite> did you decide to sit out, or was that an oversight?

<Smajor> I decided to sit out

He had to. There’s no way he’ll be able to control his powers enough by then for him to be safe to be around.

This time, the response is much slower, giving time for Scott to try and calm his shallow breaths and pray that Noxite doesn’t question him on this.

<Noxite> alright! Just checking.

For a second, he thinks he’s clear, and then another ding sounds.

<Noxite> Are you okay, though? You’ve competed in every mcc we’ve held.

<Noxite> what makes this different?

Concern. His first thought was concern. Scott suddenly finds it very hard to swallow around the lump in his throat.

<Smajor> I’m fine.

<Noxite> Are you sure?

<Smajor> Yes.

<Noxite> Do you want to hop on a call? Just a quick one, we haven’t talked in a while. I know you’re busy with your kingdom on empires, but we all miss you.

A droplet of water splashes onto the screen of his comm with a gentle plink. Scott reaches up to find his cheeks wet with tears, though quickly freezing over.

<Smajor> does it have to be now?

<Noxite> I was going to test the changes to grid runners afterwards, but I can do that now and call you later, if that’s better. I just want to make sure you’re alright.

And damn Scott’s soft heart, damn the barriers of steel and ice he’s built around it for failing, damn Noxite for knowing exactly how to get to him.

<Smajor> no, calling now is fine. Just no facecam today.

<Noxite> Okay!

His comm rings, a familiar sound, and Scott does his best to take a deep breath before he picks up.

“Hey, Noxite.”

“Hey, Scott. How are you doing?”

“Good,” he lies.

“Built anything cute lately?”

“Not really.”

“How’s your friend? Jimmy, right?”

“He’s-” Scott nearly chokes with the force of holding back tears. “He’s fine. They’re all doing fine.”

“I’ll be honest, I’m more worried about you,” Noxite hums, gentle in the way only a god trying not to harm a mortal could be. “You haven’t ever missed an mcc, you love competing. What’s going on, Scott?”

“Nothing.” He barely gets the word out, guilt choking him as the lies pile up on his tongue. He can’t tell him anything. No one can know.

“Are you sure it’s nothing?”

Scott goes to open his mouth and lie again. A sob slips out instead, choked but unmistakable.

“Scott? Are you crying?”

He can’t stop the way his face flushes; it’s an ugly thing to be caught in such raw, aching vulnerability, shame burning harsher than the frostbite nipping at his fingers. He clamps a hand over his mouth, body shaking as he tries to muffle another sob.

“Scott, Scott, talk to me. Please.”

And he’s gone, crushed under the weight of his own sorrow and longing, choking on his sobs as his tears turn to ice. The comm slips from his frozen fingers, clattering to the ground as he sinks down right beside it. The cold is everywhere- his hands, his wings, his tears, his heart- and the worst part is, he can feel it now. Noxite’s words are the barest hint of warmth, but they’re enough to make him realize how he’s freezing. The world is frozen- he’s frozen too, but not because of the snow piled at the cabin door. Scott is cold on a level so deep he’s not sure he remembers what it feels like to be warm, to be safe and happy and not chained by his doubt, his past, himself. He’s been drowning so long he’s not sure he remembers how to breathe.

Vaguely, he’s aware Noxite is talking again, voice so, so soft for a god capable of all that he is. “It’s alright. It’s okay. Whatever’s going on, we can help. You’re not alone.”

You’re not alone. He didn’t realize how desperate he was for that to be true until now.

“You can talk about it whenever you’re ready. Or even never. Just...let me help. You don’t have to be alone.”

He manages to pull himself together enough to rasp out “You promise?”

“Promise.”

Something in Scott breaks with that word, sudden and sharp and a relief much as it is a hurt. He finds himself spilling everything, the whole story, from Xornoth to the ice powers that currently control his life. All his bottled feelings, mixed with sobs and shaky, shuddering breaths.

He’s sure at least half of it is mostly incomprehensible with how hard he’s crying, but Noxite must get the gist of it because there’s gentle understanding in his voice when Scott’s finally done. “So you’re struggling with your powers?”

He nods, then remembers Noxite can’t see him. “Yeah.”

“Right. I think you should come back to the MCC server.”

“I- but-”

“I know you’re scared to hurt us, but isolating yourself will only make it worse. You need guidance, and I can help. Your powers are not the same as mine, but I’m certain there are commonalities. Remember when you first realized the extent of your world hopping ability?”

“I was so scared,” Scott rasps.

“And what did you do?”

“I let you teach me how to use it.”

“Exactly. Come home, Scott.”

Home. Doesn’t that sound so lovely? He wants- he needs somewhere to feel like home, like safety.

“You promise it’ll be okay?” His voice comes out so small.

“I promise. Everything will be okay.”

He is many things, but he is not without weakness. No man is. And Scott’s weakness is gentle words and soft promises that he wants so desperately to believe.

“Okay. I’ll come- I’ll come home.” He stumbles over the last word, the syllables coming out awkward and clumsy, as if they don’t quite fit right in his mouth. Maybe they don’t. Scott’s never fit anywhere, why should the word home fit him? He’s been searching his whole life for somewhere that feels right, and yet there’s still the quiet ache of not belonging nestled in his chest.

Noxite, blissfully unaware of Scott’s internal angst, starts talking again, never once dropping the gentle concern from his voice. “Do you want us to come meet you at the portal out of empires? I’d come into the server itself, but I’m not whitelisted.”

He should say that he’s fine getting to MCC on his own, but “Yes.” slips out before he can stop it. There’s a part of him (childish, afraid) that wishes they could come all the way to where he is, but god knows Fwhip isn’t going to whitelist them if Scott messages him to ask. Not to mention the shame of anyone seeing this sad little cabin, seeing Scott at his absolute lowest. The part of him that got him through years under the thumb of his parents’ advisors urges him to hide any hint of weakness, any sign of vulnerability. Don’t let them know how to hurt you.

A little too late for that, Scott thinks, bitterly amused. Distantly, he registers that Noxite said something else, something in a tone far kinder than Scott deserves, though he couldn’t tell you the actual words being said. He nods anyways, offers a hum of agreement.

There’s a short pause.

“When should we get there?” Noxite asks.

“Couple of hours. Maybe six,” Scott shrugs. “I’m a long flight away.”

“Okay. Do you want to stay on call?”

That’s a harder question. He wants to say yes- needy, clingy-, he wants to say no.

He settles for a shrug and “I’ll be fine either way.”

“Alright. I’ll give you space, but I’ll have my comm on me. Call again if you need, alright?”

“Alright.”

“Goodbye for now.”

“Bye, love you,” Scott blurts, and immediately hangs up before Noxite has a chance to reply.

For a solid minute, he resists the urge to bang his head against a wall. As if his day could get any more embarrassing, between having a sobbing breakdown and nearly caving and just begging Noxite to come get him even though he’s an adult fully capable of traveling on his own. Why must Aeor torment him like this?

He also considers, in that solid minute, curling up in the corner and just hoping no one’s dedicated enough to search for and find him. Certainly, collapsing into a puddle of tears and despair would be easier than facing his godly friends, let alone his more human ones.

Ultimately, though, his heart- soft, foolish, aching- wins out. He wants to see his friends. He wants someone to help him control his powers. He wants to feel warm again.

That desperate desire is what gets him to stagger to his feet and start throwing the few items he brought into his shulker box. He packs roughly, quickly, not bothering to fold things as long as he can cram them in. His hands are too numb for that, his grip clumsy at best. The clothes will just have to stay crumpled- finery means nothing to him now regardless.

Just as he’s making his way out the door, his comm dings again. His hands are too full to check it- not that he particularly wants to face the humiliating consequences of blurting that out anyways- and he resolves to check it later. That can be a problem for future Scott.

He takes to the sky on icy wings long since gone numb, the wind rushing by his face in a way that should bite, should make his cheeks sting with cold, but doesn’t. Distantly, he registers his vision blurring as the wind forces him to squint, eyes watering. Reduced visibility when flying is never good, Scott’s instincts scream. He could crash, he could get hurt, he could die.

That should matter more to him. It doesn’t. Any sting of the cold is gone, leaving in its wake numbness, nothingness. Not the absence of feeling, so much feeling that it overwhelms him and leaves him unable to tell the joy from the pain.

Scott’s shaken back into awareness with the realization that there’s a mountain looming large in front of him. Instinctually, he tries to swerve. What he doesn’t account for is the wind, buffeting him as he makes his half-hearted attempt at dodging and ends up crashing straight into the branches of a scraggly mountain tree. Pain explodes from at least three places in his body, though not severe enough to suggest broken bones. Or possibly he’s just even more numb than he thought. The trunk of the tree is slippery as well, sending him sliding down to the harsh ground below. And if all that wasn’t bad enough, his impact is enough to shake the upper branches and deposit their snow directly on top of him. Though every place he touched on the tree has already turned to ice, and he’s equally frozen, so it makes no difference in the end. Still, that hurt.

He expresses his feelings on the matter with a small groan and “fuck.”

Predictably, the tree doesn’t respond.

Scott hauls himself to his feet, body aching all over, and retrieves his dropped shulker. Thankfully, he wasn’t carrying anything too breakable, and his comm seems to be intact as well when he picks it up and powers it on. It takes him to the last messages he sent, where his eyes are immediately drawn to a new one.

<Noxite> I love you too, Scott

Oh. Fuck. He bites back a sob, refusing to let his pride take another hit today. He’s the elvenking- well, not anymore, he reminds himself bitterly- he’s a grown adult capable of handling a kingdom. He is not going to cry because he flew into a tree and then someone expressed the bare minimum of affection towards him, for fuck’s sake. Is he really this pathetic?

Maybe he is that pathetic because all he really wants is to lay down in the snow and not have to get up for at least three years. Yes, he would probably die of hypothermia, but that doesn’t mean the urge to just go to sleep and avoid his problems isn’t there.

Unfortunately, Scott is a grown adult with a sense of responsibility, so he tucks his shulker back on his back and takes to the sky again, ignoring the way his muscles scream at him. It’s another three hours to the exit portal, after all.

Three hours of flying later, he swerves around the jungle trees, praying that Joey isn’t anywhere nearby, and makes an ungraceful landing in front of the exit portal.

Deep breath in. Deep breath out. He has to remind himself that Noxite asked him to come back. His friends want him there. He’s certain that he’s still burdening them, but at least it’s a burden they didn’t object to.

Scott takes one more deep breath and steps into the portal.

For a few tense, heart-breaking moments, he thinks no one actually came to greet him. But when he blinks the swirls of the portal out of his vision, he can see that not only did Noxite show up, he brought most of the crew of gods that Scott’s been working with for the past few years.

Oh.

“Hey, guys,” Scott manages, though his voice comes out as a rasp.

Before he has a chance to make a joke about the way his voice cracks, Noxite takes a few steps forward, looks him up and down, and pulls him into a hug. It’s startling, a bit off from how most humans hug, and- most of all- familiar.

-

“So mortals embrace to show affection?”

Scott hums, swinging his legs over the edge of the newly built Decision Dome. “Some of them. Some people don’t really like hugs, and some people aren’t really affectionate anyways.”

“Don’t do that, you could fall. You’re very breakable,” Noxite reprimands. Scott hasn’t yet managed to explain to him that referring to humans as breakable is a little weird. And honestly, he’s not that fragile, but he pulls his legs back onto the edge anyways.

Noxite hesitates before speaking again, staring out across the server. “Are you one of the mortals who doesn’t prefer affection?”

“What- Why do you ask?”

“Well, you don’t seem to give embraces very often. Or receive them.”

Scott shrugs, putting his legs back down so he can kick his heels against the edge of the Dome. “It’s not that I mind hugs, really, it’s just that you all are gods. You don’t really do human affection. And I didn’t get a lot of affection even before I came here, so it’s not like I’m not used to it.”

Noxite frowns at him but says nothing about the leg-swinging. “Are hugs something elves need?”

“Not really. Apparently humans need four hugs a day for mental health, but I’m not human.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want you to go without something you need because we don’t know enough about humans.”

“Not human,” Scott reminds him again. “And seriously, no one ever hugged me back in R- back where I came from. If I was going to die from lack of physical touch, I would have done it already.”

“Hmm. Alright.”

For a moment, Scott thinks that’s the end of it, and then he’s nearly being crushed in an awkward approximation of a hug. “Oof! Noxite!”

“Is this too tight?”

“A little, yeah.”

“Sorry,” Noxite says, sounding a little abashed as he lets Scott go.

“It’s alright. I just- I told you I don’t need hugs.”

“If you aren’t comfortable, I can stop. I just wanted to express that you’re my friend the way humans do.”

Scott suddenly finds his eyes stinging. Probably just the wind. “No, I- that’s fine. Just let me show you how to do it properly.”

“Alright.”

It’s been long enough since he properly hugged someone that he feels a little stiff and awkward, but he wraps his arms around Noxite anyways, reminding himself that he can’t possibly be any worse at giving hugs than the god who just nearly broke his ribs. Noxite’s arms come up to embrace him a lot more hesitantly this time, a far gentler hug. If he’s honest with himself, it’s almost nice. No one’s held him like this, with no strings attached or bittersweet parting, in...a long time. Longer than Scott cares to think about or admit.

“Is this right?”

“Yeah,” Scott manages around the lump in his throat. “That’s about how you do it.”

“Good, good.”

Scott tries to pull away, overbalences, and topples off the roof.

Well, fuck. Thank Aeor, he’s quick enough with his wings to flip around and mostly catch himself, gliding down in a way that could be called graceful- if it was being compared to a particularly clumsy baby slime, that is. He ends up crashing into one of the bushes at the bottom, smashing his face into the dirt, but at least nothing but his pride appears to be injured.

There’s a small crack of spacetime being bent beside him, and Noxite appears, somehow managing to convey both concern and smugness with his deadpan expression.

“Are you alright?”

“Fine, just bruised.”

“Hm.” A brief moment of silence, and then. “I told you so.”

“Oh, fuck off, Noxite.”

-

It’s not as rough a hug as the first time they hugged, nor as awkward as the second. It’s just...soft. Nice. It’s been a long time since he’s been held like this, gently, as if he deserves that kindness.

He doesn’t cry, but it’s a near thing.

Noxite doesn’t let go, not until Scott pulls away, managing a wobbly smile. “You’ve gotten better at human affection. You didn’t crush my ribs that time.”

“I haven’t crushed your ribs in a long time,” the god protests.

Scott laughs, though it sounds exhausted and bitter even to his own ears. “Uh-huh, Noxite.”

“Anyways. You’re deflecting.”

“I’m not.”

“Uh-huh. Let’s go home, then we’ll talk about the ice powers, okay?”

“Okay,” Scott says, and he lets himself relax, just a tiny bit.

[just-dreaming-marvel]

Love and Medicine ~ 8

MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 4,175ish

Summary: Your roommates are annoyed and Gamora is determined to make you jump through hoops.

Notes: This is based off of Grey’s Anatomy 1x07. I do not own Marvel or Grey’s Anatomy.

When your alarm went off, you were naked in your bed. With a naked Steve beside you. A small groan passing between his lips, Steve reached around you to turn off the alarm clock and then cuddled into you.

“Hmmm,” you hummed, enjoying his arms around you way too much. “You have to get up now.”

“What?” Steve mumbled, half asleep. “What time is it?”

You smirked, rolling on top of him. “It’s 5:20, and I have pre-rounds. And you,” you booped his nose, “have to leave before they see you.”

You gave him a small kiss before rolling off of him.

“Oh, come on, now,” Steve grumbled. “Why don’t you just let them see?” He quickly rolled on top of you, pinning you down.

“No!”

“Please!”

“No! No!”

He began placing kisses all over you. Saying, ‘please’, between eat kiss.

“Steve!” You squealed. “St-stoppp!

~~~

“You two get any sleep?” Scott asked, walking into the kitchen where Val and Clint were eating.

“Oh, she could oil the bedsprings as a courtesy or at least buy a padded headboard,” Val complained.

“So, uh, who’s the guy?” Clint asked.

“You think it was just one guy doing all that work?”

“Yeah, do you mind if I don’t think about that?”

“Oh, you jealous, Barton?” Scott teased.

“I’m not jealous.”

“Well, I am,” Val responded. “But at least I know she’ll be having a long day at work.”

They all froze when they heard a floor board near the top of the stairs squeak. The three of them rushed over to the doorway, wanting to see who was coming down the stairs. Steve snuck down the stairs and out the door, seen by Val, Clint, and Scott.

“Well, at least we know that brain surgery isn’t his only skill,” Val commented, going to get more coffee.

“They—they can’t be…” Clint stared at the front door in shock. “He’s… he’s our boss.”

“Yep,” Scott replied, glancing at his watch. “We’re late. You know, she has been scrubbing in a lot lately on his surgeries.”

“No, Y/N wouldn’t sleep with him just to… no.”

“Well, if she’s not ashamed of it, why is she keeping it a secret?” Val wondered.

“Maybe she didn’t. Maybe it just happened. You know, spontaneously, last night.”

“Good morning,” you greeted, entering the kitchen.

“Morning,” Val and Scott responded.

“So…” Val started, “it sounded like you were having some pretty radical sex last night, all night long. Who was the guy?”

“No one you know,” you lied with a shrug.

Clint, Scott, and Val all gave each other a look.

“We’re late,” Scott said. “Let’s go.”

~~~

“I’m gonna beed a major rush to make it through this day,” Clint said in the locker room. “I need a kick-ass surgery.”

“Ooh, you a bad boy last night, Clint?” Peter taunted.

“No,” Val answered for him. “That would be Y/N.”

“You a bad boy, Y/N?”

“Do tell,” Natasha urged.

“Nothing to tell,” you shrugged.

“That says it all, huh?”

Val slammed her locker door shut, annoyed at your lies.

“Sorry, I have a sex life,” you apologized.

“Don’t apologize,” Peter said. “Embrace it. Share it. Count me in.”

“Yeah, next time, just let me know if I need to go to a hotel so I can get some sleep,” Val said.

“Am I missing something?” You asked.

“You were just a little loud,” Scott replied.

Everyone left except you and Natasha.

“Do they know it’s Captain McDreamy keeping them up all night?” Natasha asked.

“I hope not,” you answered. “I already have Gamora riding me, I don’t need my roommates thinking I’m getting special treatment.”

~~~

You yawned as you and Natasha met up with the other interns and Dr. Gamora. You just hoped that you didn’t look as tired as you felt.

“Barton, Romanoff, Lang, Quill, go on to the clinic,” Gamora ordered. She looked up, catching Clint watch Steve through a window. Steve was putting in eye drops. “Barton, patients are waiting.” Clint scurried off. “You two,” Gamora motioned to you and Val, “come with me. Val, you’re hanging with me today.” Steve walked over. “Good morning, Dr. Rogers.”

“Dr. Gamora,” he replied as you yawned. “Late night, L/N?”

“No,” you responded, “caffeine just hasn’t kicked in yet.”

“If you’re at all religious, you would want to start praying it kicks in soon,” Gamora retorted. “There’s a consult in the pit. Girl with a fever and abdominal pain. After that, Lee in 3311 needs his meds. Mr. Jackson’s IV fell out, and he’s a hard stick. Post-ops in 1337, 3342, 3363, and 2381.”

You had nodded along, trying to get your tired brain to understand what she was saying. “3381, 3342, 3363,” you repeated, “and 23… 81?” 

Gamora simply glared at you instead of answering what you needed. “Why are you still standing in front of me?”

You quickly hurried down to the pit, not wanting to get on Gamora’s bad side anymore than you already were. You started your consultation with an eighteen year old girl named Jessie Todd. Her mother and father were both accompanying her. Jessie seemed nervous, biting her nails.

“I think she got some bug on her trip to Mexico with her friends,” Mrs. Todd said. “I told her not to go to a third-world country, but does she ever listen?”

“She’s been weak ever since and she’s lost weight,” Mr. Todd worried.

“Barely,” Jessie mumbled.

“And this morning, she passed out in the shower.”

“When was the trip?” You asked.

“A couple weeks ago,” Jessie answered. “I’m really fine. I just have a fever.”

“Okay, well, will you lie back for an exam for me?”

“No, please, I don’t need an exam. Just give me some antibiotics and send me home.”

“Well, maybe it is just a fever, but they called down for a surgeon, so I have to give the ok to let you go. So just let me do the exam.”

“Do the exam,” Mr. Todd urged.

“No. This is crazy. I’m fine.”

“For God's sake, Jessie, I don't want to spend my entire day here,” Mrs. Todd exclaimed.

“You know, actually, Mrs. Todd, this might be easier if we had some privacy,” you told the parents, sensing that Jessie was worried about their reactions to whatever was going on. “So would you two mind leaving the room?”

“That’s fine,” Mr. Todd said, guiding his wife away.

Jessie lied down and you began to push at her stomach.

“Ow,” Jessie complained. “Don’t push so hard.”

“Can you lift your shirt so I can examine your stomach?” You requested. With a sigh, Jessie slowly lifted her shift, revealing pink scars. “Where did you get these? Jessie… you've had surgery recently. These scars are still pink.”

“Don’t tell my parents.”

“You did this in Mexico so your parents wouldn't know? What did you have done?”

“I can’t tell you.”

“Jessie—“

“I can’t!”

With a sigh, you walked away, ordering a CT for Jessie before heading to help the other patients that Gamora had for you.

~~~

You at just finished Gamora’s last job for you when she paged. You were quickly to go find her.

“You paged?” You questioned, finding her near a nurses station.

“Where are we?” She asked.

“I did the consult, did the IV, the meds, the Post-ops, everything.”

“How is your pit patient?”

“She’s febrile and has peritoneal signs.”

Both you and Gamora’s attentions go to Natasha, who is walking by looking ill.

“You alright, Romanoff?” Gamora wondered, not caring all that much.

“Fine,” Natasha responded, waving it off as she kept going. “On my way back to the clinic.”

“Anyway, about the pit patient.”

“I think she had some sort of illegal surgery done in Mexico,” you stated.

“Botched abortion?”

“No. She has four laparoscopic scars on her abdomen and won't say what they're from, the parents are clueless.”

“She’s a minor.”

“Seventeen. Freshman in college.”

“You order up for a CT?”

“Yes,” you nodded.

“So while she's there, the nurses couldn't get a Foley on Mr. Garay. He may need a Coude cath if you can't get a normal one in there. Write up post-op notes on all surgical-floor patients that had surgery within the last 24 hours. Be sure to document their EKG's and x-rays. Hunt them down if you can't find them.”

“Right away.”

~~~

You were exhausted by the time Jessie’s CT scans came back. Gamora was really working you to the bone. Of course, it didn’t help that you had spent most of the night up with Steve, having some of the most enjoyable sex you’ve ever had. But that wasn’t the point. Scans in hand, you found Gamora at the nurses station near the lobby.

“Dr. Gamora?” You walked up to her. “Jessie Todd’s abdominal CTs.” You handed her the scans.

She took them, holding them up to study them. “Is this girl fat?”

“Not at all,” you shook your head. “She’s a normal college kid.”

“So,” she handed the scans back to you, “what do you see?”

You took them back and studied them yourself. “Her stomach’s stapled. She’s had a gastric bypass.”

“And a bad one at, at that.”

Jessie Todd was moved into a patient room. So you and Gamora requested to speak to her parents outside of the hallway. You were tasked to explain to them what at happened.

“Gastric bypass is a procedure normally done on obese patients to help them lose weight,” you stated, after telling them what their daughter had done.

“Jessie?” Mr. Todd questioned. “She doesn’t need to lose weight.”

“Are you kidding?” Mrs. Todd responded. “This means the world to her. But it is so typical of this girl to take the easy way out. She's done it with everything since she was a little kid.”

“Mrs, Todd, nothing about this is gonna be easy,” Gamora said. “She's gonna face a lifelong struggle with malnutrition unless she has surgery to reverse the procedure.”

“Do the surgery,” Mrs. Todd ordered before turning to her husband. “I told her to watch the freshman 15. Don't eat junk, exercise. But when she came home Christmas, who had to take her out and buy her a brand new pair of size 6 jeans because she couldn't get in the ones I got her last summer?”

“Chrissy, you know, she tries so hard,” Mr. Todd retorted. “She does. She gets good grades. She gets A’s.”

“She had illegal surgery in Mexico.”

“Unfortunately, there were complications with the bypass,” Gamora stated.

“What do you mean?” Mr. Todd asked.

“She has what looks like an abscess under her diaphragm, and edema, which is a swelling of the bowel wall. I can't say for certain she'll recover completely.”

“Just do whatever you have to do to make her well, ok?”

“Of course, sir.”

Gamora walked away, and you stayed to check up on Jessie. It was then that Mrs. Todd entered Jessie’s room, angrily.

“Before you guys start,” Jessie quickly said, “I know you’re mad.”

“Disbelief, Jessie,” Mrs. Todd exclaimed. “Just disbelief.”

“I’m just concerned,” Mr. Todd added, much more calmly than his wife. “Where did you get the idea to do this?”

“The internet,” Jessie answered quietly.

“But, honey, there is a healthy way to lose weight,” Mrs. Todd said.

“Yeah, I tried that, but...it doesn't work for me like it does for you.”

“Hey,” Mr. Todd said, putting a hand on his daughter’s leg, “you don’t need to lose weight.”

“What are you eating?” Mrs. Todd quickly wondered. “And how much have you been working out? I mean, you know, most of the time, when people hit their target weight, they have to work to stay there.”

“Everyone gains weight in college, Mom,” Jessie responded. “It’s—it’s stressful. There’s... there's not enough time for exercise. I just thought if I wasn't worried about my diet, then… I could focus more on my studies.”

“So you took yet another shortcut? Life doesn’t work that way, Jessie.”

“Chrissy!” Mr. Todd exclaimed.

“What? You want to argue this?”

Huffing at his wife, Mr. Todd turned to you. “She has so much potential, if she would just apply herself—”

“Okay, okay,” you interrupted, having heard enough. “I think we should focus on taking care of your daughter. And, Jessie, your parents agree, the best thing to do is to reverse the bypass.”

“No!” Jessie shouted. “No, it's my body. I do not want surgery again. Please?”

“There were serious complications. And this is about your health.”

“But I’d rather be thin.”

“Well, I’m afraid the choice isn’t up to you,” Mrs. Todd responded.

~~~

With a sigh, you found yourself pushed up against the wall in the stairwell. You were tired and so over Mrs. Todd.

“Long day?” Tony’s voice came closer.

You opened your eyes to see him walking up the stairs. “You could say that,” you responded. “How’s trying to get a date with Dr. Potts going?”

“Not so well,” he sighed, coming to leaning against the wall beside you. “I’ve been bringing her coffee or tea every morning though. I’m trying.”

“You really screwed up,” you giggled.

“You’re telling me. How are you and Steve?”

“We’re… fine.”

“He told me you were up all last night.”

“What?!”

“Okay, he didn’t tell me. But I can see how tired both of you are. It doesn’t take a genius to figure it out.”

“It’s that obvious? Tony, are you serious? This could totally ruin—“

“Woah, woah, woah. Calm down there, Y/N. I’m just playing with you. Gosh, you need to take a chill pill or something.”

“Sorry, sorry. I’m just… I know we shouldn’t be doing what we are doing.”

“But you enjoy it too much to stop. I get it… I just wish I was getting some too.”

~~~

Natasha was standing in the hall looking nauseous.

“Romanoff!” Clint called, excitedly hurrying up to her. “I’m scrubbing in on a hemispherectomy with Rogers.”

“Get out!” She responded. “I would kill for that.”

“We're gonna cut out half a girl's brain and it's going to work. It's outrageous. Almost makes it hard to hate him.”

“Why do you hate him?”

“Oh, no reason.”

“You know about him and Y/N, don’t you?”

“You know?”

“When are you gonna figure out that I know everything?”

Noticing Val walking up from behind, Clint pointed at Natasha. “She knows.”

“What?” Val questioned. “About Y/N and the Captain?”

“It’s been going on for, like ever,” Natasha commented.

“Seriously?”

“And you didn’t tell us?” Clint wondered.

“Ooh, you’re a gossip, huh?” Natasha responded.

“I am not!”

“I am,” Val said.

“He’s about to go into major brain surgery on no sleep? Not very responsible.”

“Jealous much?” Natasha chuckled. “Sex all night isn't about being responsible.”

“No,” Val agreed, “it’s about sex all night. I can't believe you're not more pissed off about this, you of all people.”

“Well, Y/N works hard all day. She’s good at her job. Why should you care how she unwinds? I mean, you like to bake all night. Some people like to drink. Others like an occasional screaming orgasm.”

~~~

Gamora and you were carefully operating on Jessie in the OR. Gamora was letting you help with more than you thought she would.

“Handle with care,” Gamora advised as she handed you Jessie’s bowel. “This things—“

“Full of gunk,” you responded. “I know.”

“We need to free the bowel from the adhesions caused from the abscess. This poor girl. What was she thinking?”

“She wants her mother's approval. She wanted to please her.”

“And this damage is the result? Here, resect that.”

“Needle-tip Bovie, please,” you requested, handing the bowel back to Gamora.

“When you’re done here, you have post-ops waiting.”

“I know, Dr. Gamora.”

“Natasha also has the flu. So, you need to pick up the slack in the clinic as well.”

“Look, I’ll mop the floors, okay?” That earned you a glare from Gamora. “Sorry, that was inappropriate.”

“It's not the only thing that's inappropriate. While we're on the subject, you care to tell me what you think you're doing?”

“Look, I'll jump through hoops if you want me to. But what I do what I leave this hospital is my business.”

“Half this hospital knows your business. Flu isn't the only virus spreading around here.”

“I made a choice, and I know you don't respect me for that choice. But I'll live with the consequences.”

“Then I'll have lots of hoops for you to jump through.”

“I've done everything you've asked me to do. I may not do it your way but it gets done. So whatever else you got, bring it on.” 

Suddenly, Jessie’s bowel burst. Spraying you with toxic waste. You could hear the people watching in the gallery go, ‘ew’.

“Okay, Dr. L/N, now that you’ve drained the organ, we can attempt to repair it,” Gamora said.

“Now my day is perfect,” you muttered.

The nurses tried to clean you up the best they could as you operated. Though they seemed to only make it worse. After the surgery, you and Gamora headed out into the hallway together.

“I need a shower,” you commented.

“No, I need a shower,” Gamora retorted. “You need to go tell that girl's parents what kind of kid they're getting back.”

“You're not gonna let me shower first?”

“That would be a hoop, would it not?”

“It would qualify.”

“Shower first, then.”

You rushed to the locker room. Val and Natasha were already there.

“Ew, what smells?” Val asked as you passed her.

“That would be me,” you answered, "or more specifically, my patient's insides all over me.”

“That makes me strangely happy.”

“Oh, Y/N,” Natasha grimaced, “you smell like—“

“Karma.”

“What?” You asked Val.

“Nothing.”

“Something vile is stuck in your hair,” Natasha told you, pointing to your hairline. “You know, just go stand over there, please.” She shooed you to the other side of the aisle.

“Ugh, how much do I love being a surgeon right now?” You mumbled.

“Karma,” Val laughed.

“What does karma have to do with anything?”

“I'm just saying, you've been given all the best surgeries. And now you smell like putrid goo. And you're giving off a stench. Karma's a bitch.”

Gamora walked into the locker room. “Dr. Rogers needs an intern in surgery,” she stated. “Which one of you is clear?”

“I’m good!” Natasha raised her hand. She was still looking pale. “Where do you want me?”

“You need to lie down somewhere.”

“I’m fine, I’m completely healthy.”

“L/N?” 

“Of course,” Val grumbled.

“What is your problem?” You asked Val, annoyed.

“Um, you! Cause apparently you can help Captain McDreamy in ways the rest of us can’t.”

“You did not just say th—“

“Yes, I did!”

“Hey!” Gamora called out. “Natasha, hemispherectomy in OR 1 with Dr. Shepherd. Go.”

Natasha nodded and hurried away. Val marched off as well.

“Apparently, I’m not the only one with hoops,” Gamora smirked.

~~~

After showering, you found Mrs. and Mr. Todd in the lobby. As you walked, you explained to them what had gone on in surgery.

“We were able to reverse the gastric bypass, but we did lose a significant portion of her bowel,” you told them. “And because of the short gut syndrome, Jessie will never eat normally again.”

“Ok, wait, do…” Mr. Todd tried to put his thoughts together. “How do we help her here?”

“Well, getting proper nutrition will be a lifelong problem for Jessie.”

“Great,” Mrs. Todd murmured, annoyed, “as if we already don't have our hands full with her.”

“She gets good grades. She stays out of trouble. She's smart. I just think she feels like nothing she does is good enough for you.”

“If you somehow think that I'm responsible for this…”

“I think Jessie is killing herself to please you.”

“Oh, please. You have no idea what's going on in that girl's mind.”

“You're her mother. She worships the ground you walk on. She didn't do this for herself.”

“I think that this situation is completely—“

“Chrissy, shut up,” Mr. Todd interrupted.

Both you and Mrs. Todd looked shocked as Mr. Todd walked faster to Jessie’s room.

~~~

Clint had had an interesting day, to say the least. He had discovered that the anesthesiologist in Steve’s surgery was drunk. Bringing up to Dr. Rogers, both the anesthesiologist and Dr. Rogers got mad, throwing him out of the surgery. Which is why he needed another intern.

Durning the surgery, Natasha and Dr. Rogers quickly realized that Clint had been right. Allowing Natasha and another doctor to close, Steve requested Clint to met him outside of the OR.

“Let me explain,” Steve began.

“It’s fine,” Clint responded.

“No, there is a code among doctors. We're not supposed to ask each other questions, not within the walls of this hospital.”

“Okay, so, I was out of line.”

“No, you weren't. I was. I was out of line. Somebody should have taken responsibility. It should have been the guy doing the cutting. It should have been me. You didn't deserve what happened to you today. You did the right thing code or no code.” Steve held out his hand for Clint to shake. Hesitantly, Clint shook it. “You saw me leave the house this morning, didn’t you?��

Clint pulled his hand away. “Oh, was that you?”

“Hmm. I’m not using her. And I don’t favor her.”

“She’s pretty great, you know.”

“Mm-hmm. I know.”

~~~

You went to Jessie, getting her into a wheel chair so that you can walk her around while talking to her alone. You had made a phone call, and you needed to tell her about it.

“Did you fix me?” Jessie asked, after the two of you walked in silence for awhile. 

“No, not completely,” you responded.

“So, I won’t get fat?”

“No.”

“Oh. That’s awesome.”

“Jessie, I’ve asked social services to contact your parents.”

“What? Why?”

“They can help you.”

“With what?”

“You don't know this yet, but life isn't supposed to be like this. It's not supposed to be this hard. And your mom… she isn’t suppose to treat you this way.”

~~~

You were so extremely grateful when you were finally allowed to go home. It was late, so you were expecting your roommates to be asleep. When you entered the kitchen, you found Val frosting a cake.

“I thought you’d be asleep by now,” you commented, searching for food.

“Yeah, well, I’m not,” Val retorted. “If you wait a few minutes, you can have a piece of cake. Baked it chock-full of love. Actually, chock-full of unrelenting, all consuming rage and hostility, but it's still tasty.”

“So you know?”

“I know.”

“Well, do you want the long, sordid version, or do you want the short version, where I started sleeping with a guy who turned out to be my boss?”

“Neither.”

“Val, cut me some slack here.”

“No. You went to Dartmouth. Your parents— don’t get me started on that. I know you’re trying to hide who your parents are. But I know. You grew up— look at this house! You know, you walk into the OR, and there isn’t anyone who doubts that yo should be there. I… I grew up in a trailer park. I went to state school. I put myself through med school by posing in my underwear. You know, I walk into the OR, and everyone hopes I'm the nurse. Y-you have their respect without even trying, and you're throwing it away for...what? A few good surgeries?”

“No. It's not about the surgeries. It's not about getting ahead.”

“Then what? A little hot sex? You're willing to ruin your credibility over that? I mean, Y/N, what the hell are you doing?” You huffed, shaking your head. “Oh, my… you’re falling for him.”

“I am not.”

“Oh, you so are.”

“No, I’m not.”

“You so are. Damn it, you poor girl.”

“You know, it's just that he's just so… And I'm just… I'm having a hard time.”

"Wow, you're all, uh, mushy and… warm and full of secret feelings.” Val handed you a piece of cake.

“I hate you!” You snatched the cake from her. “And your cake.”

“My cake is good. So, um, how hot is the sex?”

“Val.”

“What? Come on, my girlfriend broke up with me, I’m not getting any. Help a girl out with a few details.”

~~~

Steve showed up at your door an hour later, exhausted as well. You two headed up to your bedroom. You were both on either side of the bed, pulling back the covers.

“You know,” Steve slurred, “we could just…”

“Sleep?” You finished.

“We could, yeah, if… if you want to.”

“Yeah?”

You both crawled into bed. You turned off the lamp beside you before cuddling into Steve’s side. He reached over and turned off the lamp at his side.

“I could get used to this,” you whispered, falling asleep.

next chapter >

NOTES: from now on the taglist when be added by a reblog. I will reblog it using my second account, @just-dreaming-marvel-2​​​. Just so that my main page doesn’t get too cluttered.

If you want to be added to the tag list, please dm me or send in an ask.

[detectivejay-chuckles-halstead]

Hope // Jay Halstead x Reader

Description: Jay and Reader get kidnapped for all the wrong reasons. 

Requested: Yes

Warnings: Rape/Sexual Assault

Words: 3363

Pairings: Jay Halstead x Reader

“Can you tell me what he looked like?” you asked the scared woman who was laying in the hospital bed, knees pulled to her chest as she hugged them close. The bruises were already starting to form on her face and arms, knowing there were more that were scattered and hidden under the gown. You’d kicked everybody else out, leaving just you and her to talk about what happened to her. It was the least you could do to make her feel more comfortable, a little more safe after everything she’d been through. 

You hated these cases with a burning fire. Nobody should have to go through what this girl went through, should have to suffer with knowing it happened for the rest of their life. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t right to have that part of you violated in such a violent way, to be forced to give a piece of yourself over. 

“He was tall,” she told you meekly. “A little taller than your partner that was in here earlier. A little younger though.” You could see the tears brimming in her eyes, voice shaking as she held onto herself a little tighter. “White. Blonde hair. But...his eyes are cold. Every time I close my eyes I can see that stare.”

“We’re gonna find him and we’re going to put him away for a long time,” you assured her, gently resting your hand on her forearm. A part of you was surprised she didn’t pull away, instead looking at you.

“It was his eyes, Detective,” she told you again, voice almost a whisper. “Like he has no soul. My momma always told me you can tell who a man is through his eyes. He isn’t a man though. He’s a monster.” 

“Focus on getting you better, Tanya. We’ll focus on getting him,” you told her before standing up, leaving her to her own thoughts. 

Jay was waiting for you in the hallway, arm draping across your shoulders to pull you closer. You could feel him press a kiss to your temple as you sighed, hating these cases. 

“She’s just a kid,” you finally said softly once the two of you were safely in his truck, away from prying ears. “She’s fifteen, Jay. And this is something that she’s going to carry with her for the rest of her life.” 

“That’s why we’re going to find him. So that way she knows he won’t hurt anybody else. And she’ll be able to live her life with that small assurance,” he reminded you, squeezing your hand. “Starbuck?” You just nodded, staring out the window. You hated these cases. 

-----

“We’ve got a hit from the pod footage,” Adam announced two days later, your head snapping up from the computer screen. 

You didn’t register your own movements until you stood behind him, staring at the man on the screen. Tanya wasn’t wrong. He looked to be slightly taller than Jay, mid-to-late twenties, dirty blonde hair. You couldn’t see his eyes, though. There was something that caught you by surprise. A second offender walking next to him, seeming to talk to him. The footage was from ten minutes before Tanya was attacked, piecing it all together. 

“And better yet, we have an ID on him,” Adam added, scooting back. You had to side-step out of his way as he grabbed the photograph off his desk, plastering it on the whiteboard. “Zachary Wells, twenty-eight, one prior for assault and battery, did two years. And his buddy. Connor Woodcock, thirty-one. No prior convictions, but he has a long sheet of allegations of sexual misconduct since he was a teenager. The two went to high school together.” 

Now that you looked at the pictures, you understood what Tanya was saying about Zachary’s eyes. The picture they had was his mug-shot from when he was arrested. There wasn’t something right about to look in his eyes. 

“Do we have a LOA for either of them?” Jay asked, perched on the corner of his desk as he twirled the pen in his hand, staring at the pictures. 

“52nd and South Ellis.” Adam had barely gotten the words out by the time you had your jacket in your hands, walking down to the car. With you back turned, you didn’t see the look that Adam and Jay shared, one of worry and concern. Yet, Jay still followed you downstairs without a word. 

-----

“Look who’s finally waking up,” you heard someone coo next to you, fingers tracing along your collarbone. 

The ringing in your ears was finally dying down, vision coming into focus. You could feel the digging pain of zip-ties around your wrists behind your back as you struggled against their hold before realizing it was pointless. You couldn’t figure out what was happening until you focused on the touch against your skin. It wasn’t Jay, that much you were certain of. It felt wrong, fingers more calloused than your boyfriend’s. He smelled of liquor and sweat, and when you finally looked at him, you truly understood what Tanya was telling you. There was nothing behind his eyes, no soul it seemed. 

“Leave her alone,” Jay groaned, your head whipping over to look at him. 

Blood dripped down from a gash at his hair-line, shoulders slumped as he looked over at you. When your eyes met, you knew it was bad. You had no idea how long you’d been there, and weren't sure if you were at a secondary location or the same house you’d rolled up to to question Connor and Zachary. 

“How about you keep your mouth shut?” Zachary snapped, pushing himself up to walk over to Jay. 

A fist met a face, hearing the distinct crack and a groan of pain. Just hearing the contact made you wince, knowing it had to have hurt. Zachary took one more look at you before going up the stairs. You could vaguely make out the sounds of him talking to someone, but couldn’t make out the words.

“Jay? Jay are you okay?” you asked, concerned by his lack of movement and the blood gushing from his now-most-likely-broken nose. 

“Ugh, yeah. Yeah. How are you?” he countered. Always the gentleman, always wanting to make sure you were okay. 

“I’d be better if I wasn’t zip tied.” You heard him groan again, this time with a bit of a chuckle behind it. “How long was I out?”

“I came to about twenty minutes before you did. I don’t think they moved us, so it shouldn’t be too long before the team realizes we’re gone.” You couldn’t help but nod, hope creeping back in just a tiny bit. “Do you think…?” He didn’t have to finish his sentence for you to understand what he was asking. 

“No. No, nothing,” you assured. This time, Jay was the one to nod. “How did this even happen?” 

“No idea. Just...let’s hope the team realizes we’re gone sooner than later.” 

You didn’t know what else to say, letting your eyes drift shut. Your head was pounding, but that was the only other ache despite your wrists. The only way you could think that it all happened was that they managed to get the drop on you guys when you knocked on the door. It was the last thing you remembered, knocking on the door. 

“Y/N!” Jay whispered in a harsh voice, bringing you back to the world of the living. Your eyes fluttered open, looking around the dimly lit basement. Your eyes met his, worry and concern more evident than before. Blood was caked on his face, mostly dried by that point. 

“It’s going to be okay, Jay,” you assured him, hearing heavy boots coming down the stairs, though you didn’t believe it yourself.

Fear rose as bile in the back of your throat, swallowing it down as Zachary and Connor came into view. You didn’t say anything, didn’t think you could as you tried to anticipate what was about to happen. There had to be a way you could disconnect from it before it happened, had to be a way to make sure it didn’t affect you like it seemed to with Tanya and probably the countless other girls they’d assaulted. 

“Just look at me,” Jay instructed as he caught your eye. A part of you could only hope that they at least took you upstairs, that Jay wouldn’t have to watch this. 

“She’s a lot prettier up close, that’s for sure,” Connor told his friend, kneeling in front of you, roughly grabbing your chin with one hand, turning your head to look at him. “We’re gonna have our fun with you. A lot of fun.”

“Get your fucking hands off her!” Jay snapped. Connor didn’t loosen his grip, if anything he held you tighter in a bruising grip. 

“What do you think, Zach? Think we should make him watch? Maybe that’ll put him in his place, make him realize who the boss actually is,” Connor continued, voice steady as you stared into his equally empty eyes.

“I think that’s a wonderful idea, Connor.” Your heart dropped, knowing they weren’t going to take you upstairs. Zach walked over to Jay, roughly grabbing him by his hair, keeping him facing you. 

“It’s okay, Y/N,” Jay told you with as much of a nod as he could considering Zach was giving him little room to move. “I’m right here. It’s gonna be okay.” 

“Gagged or ungagged, that’s the question. I mean, nobody’s gonna hear you besides us,” Connor mused, mostly to himself. “It’s always a shame we have to gag them. I mean it’s fun to hear them beg and scream, though that just fuels the desire...the-the need.” 

“You’re a fucking sicko,” you spat at him, though it didn’t phase him. 

“Oh now, sweetheart,” he continued calmly, “that’s no way to talk to me.” 

You could feel his hot breath on your face before his lips were against yours, rough and wet. You wanted to gag at the contact, almost did. Yet you didn’t, letting him do whatever he wanted. Fighting it...fighting him as much as you wanted...You couldn’t. Not with Zach standing right over Jay. The thought crossed your mind, yet you knew that if you tried to fight then they might kill Jay. Sacrificing everything was better than sacrificing him. 

The cool blade of a knife was against your skin, cutting your shirt and bra along the middle as Connor pulled his mouth away from yours. Jay was struggling against his binds, against Zach’s hold, yet he was getting nowhere. 

“It’s okay, Jay,” you assured him, repeating his own words. “I’m gonna be okay.” 

“This is going to be even more interesting,” Connor said, hands sliding up your exposed stomach and chest. “Do you see what I see, Zach?”

“What do you see, Connor?” his friend answered, grip tightening in Jay’s hair. 

“These two...they love each other.” He leaned close to your ear, whispering his next words. “Once I’m done with you, sweetheart,” he said softly, you being the only one able to hear him. “He’s never going to want to touch you again. He’s going to leave you far behind. Because I’m going to have my way with you. And he’s going to know that I was the one that made you feel good. Not him.” 

“If you’re gonna do it, then do it,” you replied, looking him in the eye with as much bravery you could muster. “Because it doesn’t matter what you do to me. You’ll never break me. Because you’re a coward! Weak and pathetic.” 

You barely processed the sting of the slap across your face before he pushed you down on your back. The uncomfortable pressure on your shoulders from your hands still being zip-tied behind you caused you to cry out in pain, knowing your joints weren’t supposed to move that way. This time, you listened to what Jay had told you, keeping your eyes on his. 

Connors hands were on your skin, hearing the distinct sound of a belt unbuckling. The rustle of jeans being pushed down. The bile rose again, willing it down. Willing it away. If only you could will your emotions off. But you couldn’t. As much as you wanted to detach from this situation, to just not be there, you were. And you were going to have to live with it for the rest of your life. Like Tanya. Like every other man and woman who had been forced into this situation. 

And for the first time, you understood why they acted the way they did. You understood why Tanya sat on that hospital bed with her knees to her chest. Why she didn’t want Jay in the room. Because Connor and Zach stole something from her that day. They stole her peace of mind, the idea that she could ever be safe again. 

His lips were on your neck now, seeming to savor his time. He figured he had all the time in the world, treating you like his own play-thing. His actions were calculated, none of them rushed as you felt his erection rub along your still clothed leg. The one thing you would never be able to understand was how people got off on this? What was so satisfying about forcing somebody into sex? 

Tears welled in your eyes, rolling down your cheek. Jay sat stiff as a statue, the only indication he was alive was his gaze meeting yours and the sharp rise and fall of his chest with each breath. 

“It’s okay,” you told him again, voice shaking as you did so, bottom lip quivering. Quickly, you took it between your teeth, trying to calm yourself down. 

“You’re so beautiful,” Connor told you with a soft moan as his hands found the buckle of your pants, making quick work. 

You’d lost that hope you’d been holding onto as he pushed the fabric of your jeans down your legs. The team may find you, but it would be too late. Everything would be different. Until you heard the sound of someone forcefully breaching the front door. As soon as you heard it, you knew it was going to be okay. 

“Help!” you screamed before Connor’s hands were around your throat. You didn’t want them wasting time searching the rest of the house before going to the basement. You didn’t want them wasting any time in getting him off you. Your vision swam again, this time the darkness began creeping in on the edges of your vision before it all went dark. 

-----

“How you feelin’?” Hank asked you when you opened your eyes again.

No longer were you in the cold, musty basement of that house, waking to find yourself in a hospital bed. Your body ached, memories flooding back. Yet, the first thing you asked wasn’t about you.

“Where’s Jay?” you countered, sitting up slightly and wincing at the pain in your shoulders.

“He’s here. A couple rooms over with a broken nose. He’s gonna be okay. Now, back to my original question. How you feelin’?”

“Like I got hit by a truck, Voight. My shoulders more than anything. Did he…?” Voight quickly shook his head no. You couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief. 

“We got there just in time,” he assured you. “They both resisted so they might have found themselves with a couple bullet wounds of their own. Let’s just say, Kim’s a better shot than we might have previously thought. Connor isn’t going to have enough use to hurt anybody else.” Of course it would be Kim to shoot a rapist in the dick. 

“Good. When can I go home?”

“The doc said you should be good to go tonight. I figured you’d want to leave with Jay when they finished bandaging him up.” You nodded in agreement, hoping it wouldn’t be too long. All you wanted was to take a shower. “I’m giving the two of you two weeks off to heal. And I don’t just mean physically, Y/N. You’ve been through a lot today. Talk to someone about it.”

“I will. Has anybody told Tanya?” A part of you hoped they hadn’t, wanting to be the one to tell her. Yet, you wouldn’t be upset if somebody else did. 

“Yeah. Kim let her know after the medics brought you and Jay in. Get some rest. Call if you need anything.” You nodded again as he left the room, leaving you to your own thoughts. 

-----

It was a little over three hours later that you and Jay were walking into your apartment. Will had brought you some clothes from your house, knowing the clothes you’d worn to work were ruined. A sigh of relief escaped your lips as you stepped into the safety of your own home. 

“I’m gonna go take a shower,” you told Jay softly, brushing your fingers against his arm before walking away. 

The feeling of the hot water on your skin was soothing, yet you wanted to scrub every trace of Connor off you. You wanted to get rid of the feeling of him touching you, of his lips on your skin, of his breath on your face. You wanted to get rid of all the memories of that basement. You didn’t want to have to remember any of it. Yet, it was one of those days that were going to be plastered in your mind for the rest of your life. 

When you left the shower, your skin was raw and red and stinging. Yet, the stinging feeling overpowered the feeling of his touch. You got dressed in sweatpants and one of Jay’s t-shirts before joining Jay in bed, letting your head rest on his chest as his arms wrapped tightly around you. As much as you didn’t want to, tears came to your eyes as you cried, letting the pent up emotions flow out of you. 

“You’re okay,” Jay whispered softly into your ear as he held you tight. “You’re home. You’re safe.” He kept repeating those three phrases over and over until you started to believe him. Your sobs died down into sniffles until you no longer had the energy or the will to cry. 

“When he whispered in my ear,” you told Jay, voice cracking still despite your lack of tears. “He told me you’d never want to touch me again because you would have known he was able to make me feel good.” 

“I’m with you, no matter what, Y/N,” he corrected. “I know he didn’t get that far, but even if he had, I’m with you. Through thick and thin. Nothing that ever happens to you will ever change that, I promise.” 

“How can you promise, Jay?” Genuine confusion evident in your voice.

“Because I love you too much to blame you or judge you when it comes to things you have no control over. Because I’ve known since the day we met that you were going to be a big part of my life, no matter what. Because I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Nothing can change any of it. Kidnappings, shootings, assaults. You’re still the girl I fell in love with.” You looked up at him, seeing a soft smile on his face. You tried not to focus on the bruising around his eyes from the broken nose, or the busted lip. 

“I wished they would have taken me upstairs...when we heard them coming down. So that way you wouldn’t have had to watch any of it,” you admitted. 

“I’m glad they didn’t.” Your brows furrowed, letting him talk. “I didn’t want you to have to go through it alone. I wanted you to know that I was there for you.” You couldn’t help but let out a shaking breath, gently cupping his cheek as you kissed him softly. 

It felt right. Like the two of you fit together perfectly. Nothing like Connor and his forceful, rushed actions. No. This kiss -- you knew -- was full of love and understanding. And you knew for sure that nothing that happened to either of you was ever going to change that.  

@babi-correia​

[kickingitwithkirk]

Deuxième Omega

Summary: Jensen is not dealing well with his unexpected divorce and before the ink is even dry, he is pushed into another union with a complete stranger.

Pairing: Alpha!Jensen Ackles x Omega!OFC

Word Count: 3363

Warnings: A/B/O, angst, angry Jensen, cursing, alcohol abuse, parental manipulation, arranged marriage, Alpha dominance over Omega, unintended injuries.

A/N: So, get this; a lot of my original writing ideas from my weird as hell dreams about Sam Winchester but for some reason Jensen is starring in this one. I’m gonna blame the bad PMS I’m having for all the angst in this.

A/N II: There is no intentional hate or malevolence intended towards any of the Ackles family. This is a purely fictional piece containing real and created persons/names/events set in the fictional A/B/O verse.

*Supernatural doesn’t end in season 15 and some dates/events have been altered to fit the story.

*no beta, all mistakes are mine *photos found online

Jensen was sitting slouched on the leather couch staring at the paperwork that had been dropped off by courier this morning, official notification of the dissolution of his marriage to Danneel when Jared entered his trailer. “It’s not gonna say anything different no matter how many times you look at it.”

“I know,” Jensen sighed heavily, “never thought I’d be in this position.”  He tossed the papers on the table and picked up his beer draining it in one go.

“You better not drink anymore, we’ve still got two more scenes to get through before we can leave tonight.”

Jensen rolled his head towards Jared leaning across the kitchenettes bar counter with a very concerned expression.

Jensen had always been a social drinker, he did love his beer, the slight softness over his toned stomach was the biggest indicator. But there had been constant uptick in his drinking during the mandatory two year waiting period for an Alpha/Beta divorce. So far, it hadn’t seriously interfered with work but there had been several instances of his obvious imbidding that Jared,  Alex, even Misha ended up pumping him full of coffee to get him through.

“Then let’s get them done so I can get really fucked up before that shit show happens tomorrow.”

“Jack, give this new marriage a chance. Your dad said she’s a good match right? You never know, maybe it’ll work out like Gen and me.” Jared’s marriage had been a private match and he was happy with the Omega that his family had chosen.

Jensen snorted, getting up and walking out of his trailer, “Yeah, you lucked out with her, not always the case. Look at me, I’m getting a second hand Omega.”

*** To say the atmosphere in the private arrivals area was strained was an understatement. The Ackles were seating several feet apart awaiting their son.

“Mommy…daddy, how’s it..go..going?” They both turned in unison to see their very drunk middle child staggering towards them followed closely by Jared and Clif.

“Jensen Ross Ackles, how could you show up in this condition!” Donna Ackles snapped as he gave her a cheeky smile before passing out. “Fuck!” Jared blurted out, catching him before he face planted onto the tiled floor.

“Jared Tristan Padalecki you’re to blame for this!”

“I’m the one who’s been there for him, not the one forcing him to do something he’s not ready for! This is on you, I’ve tried to get him to stop but he’s hurting like hell and you don’t care!”

“You can’t speak to me that way young man! I always knew you came from trash and this proves it.”

Jared let his inner Alpha surface, eyes glowing red in anger, “If you ever speak disparagingly about my family again…” Clif quickly stepped in between them giving Jared a look.

“I’ve had it with you inserting yourself in our family business! I’ll make sure you never have contact with Jensen outside of work ever again!”

“You go ahead and try, Jensen’s forty two years old and more than capable of making his own choices. The only reason he’s agreed to this is because you’ve duped him into believing this is the only way to uphold your family’s social standing in the Dallas Pack because all you care about is how you look to those fucking country club bitches!”

“Alan, could you please bring the car around so we can get away from this embarrassing situation.” The older Alpha gripped his mates arm giving her a firm look of disapproval and steered her towards the exit. They could still hear her grousing, “how dare he deliver Jensen in this state,” as they went out the door.

Jared hefted his friend over his broad shoulder and carried Jensen back out the private entrance as the SUV pulled up. Clif opened the back door and helped Jared place him in the vehicle, carefully laying him across the seat.

“How bad has it been for him?” Alan inquired after Clif shut the door so his mate couldn’t hear.

Jared pulled off his beanie, running both hands through his hair, not hiding his frustration before answering, “He’s been in a downward spiral, drinking continuously, got him to stick to beer. I found him looking at the divorce papers and as you see… ”

Alan sighed heavily. Jensen’s divorce came out of nowhere, everything on the surface appeared good between him and Danneel but in hindsight he realized there were telltale signs all along, the biggest was her reluctance to have children.

Anytime anyone inquired she waved it off, saying she wanted to wait till Supernatural had ended, it wouldn’t be fair to leave all the responsibility for rearing their pups predominantly on her, she wanted Jensen there, to be a hands-on father.

Alphas were involved to an extent in care and raising of pups, but it was unusual for one to be as hands on as the Betas or Omegas were.

Jensen was one of those exceptions. Whenever with his siblings, he was right in there helping, never turning down a chance to play with them, even princess tea parties with his only niece. When on vacation or at conventions with Jared and his mate, he always was willing to help with their pups.

“I want to formally apologize for what Donna said, she overstepped the lines of etiquette. This is no excuse but she doesn’t know how to handle this situation. Jensen’s always been her favorite and she personally picked Danneel as his mate, it’s been a slap to her ego.”

Jared smiled, “I accept your apology Alan. Jensen’s always said his mother has been a…handful.”

Alan laughed, “That’s the diplomatic way of putting it,” he signed again, “Donna’s family always spoiled her being the only Omega, somewhere along the way she’s forgetting that being part of Dallas society doesn’t give you the right to treat others badly.”

*** Late next morning

Jensen was sitting on the edge of his hotel bed contemplating how he got here.

He thought Danneel was the one. When they were introduced by his mother a few months before his twenty seventh birthday they instantly clicked and started dating that night.

Jensen proposed six months later, couldn’t believe how lucky he was to have found a love match. Danneel stated she wasn’t ready to give up her career yet, so they compromised and decided on a long engagement.

Supernatural started filming its fourth season when Kripke announced that the series would end with season five. Danneel also found out her current role was being written out of the series she was in about the same time so they set the date for May 2010.

Jared’s surprise wedding in February that year reaffirmed Jensen’s desire to settle down and start his family in a few months. They bought a home outside Austin like Jared and his new mate Genevieve. Things were going as planned, then the unexpected happened.

A couple months before they finished filming the CW announced Supernatural was being picked up for season six under new leadership.

Jensen returned to Vancouver not long after they were married. Danneel continued working, doing guest starring roles on other series and was cast in the occasional recurring role of Jo.

Every year when the show went on hiatus Jensen would bring up about starting their own family, he was feeling the biological pull more and more. Once again, she stated it wouldn’t be fair for them to have a family and him be a drop-in father, and moving to Vancouver full time, nope, he worked too many hours.

Danneel started dabbling in other interests outside of acting and in 2018 they opened The Family Business Brewery with her family. A few months later Jensen was served with the divorce announcement.

*** “Jensen, it’s time.” He looked up and Alan was saddened by the lost look in his son’s eyes. There was a resignation in those green eyes that never existed before. Saying nothing Jensen got up, slipped on his suit jacket and walked out of the room.

Alan mentally shook himself but that nagging feeling was back once again, something wasn’t right about this whole situation.

*** The Uber stopped at the back door of the small country church. The woman in the backseat thanked the driver and got out, pulling the garment bag with her. She walked to the door and rang the bell. It opened revealing the minister’s wife.

“You’re very late, the wedding is starting in fifteen minutes.” She said, hurrying up a staircase to the second floor and entered an empty room. “Where is your family? They should have arrived already to help you get ready.”

“There is no one coming,” the woman replied as she hung the garment bag over a closet door next to the mirror attached to it. The minister’s wife’s jaw dropped in surprise, “and it won’t take me long to get ready. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll be down in a few minutes.”  

She unzipped the bag removing a veil and shoes having arrived already in her dress, chosen by the groom’s mother, and attached the veil to the headpiece holding back part of her simply styled hair. She looked at herself for a moment before pulling the front part of the veil over her face then joined the minister’s wife who was to escort her to the chapel. She placed the shoes she wouldn’t wear until after the ceremony on the small table outside the double doors and took her place in front of them.

Jensen was sitting in the first pew of the small country church wondering why this place was chosen for the wedding as Donna and Alan made their way to sit next to him. His siblings, Joshua and Mackenzie, were already seated in the one behind him with their mates as the rest of the Ackles clan that had been invited filled up the rest of the pews.

He looked over at the bride’s side. There was not a single person seated in any of those pews. He frowned, finding it strange, wondering where her family was when the intro music started.

The minister took his place and gestured for him to rise. Jensen couldn’t move, his body feeling like it was tied down with lead weights. “Jensen!” His mother hissed at him in a low tone.

Suddenly, he felt himself get up, urgently needing to get away from her as his inner Alpha became agitated, as if it sensed something was amiss.

Each secondary gender pairing had their own ceremonial traditions so he was required to remain facing forward when the music changed and the doors behind him opened.

As the guests stood Jensen focused his senses on her as she proceeded down the aisle. He couldn’t scent her, too many different scents mingling together to isolate hers. He listened to the whispering material of the dress as she slowly walked, finally stopping next to him. In his peripheral vision he could see her head bowed under the thick veil obscuring her face and hair, her hands were clasped together in front of her, devoid of a bouquet.

The minister started speaking, talking about the obligations each Alpha and Omega were required to follow as dictated by the book. Jensen inhaled sharply, realizing what was occurring.

This wasn’t the common ceremony but the ancient, traditional version that only the extreme believers still used today. There was absolutely no out for either party from once the proceedings started.

If he objected to the ceremony he would be shunned by his pack, his family would be forced to never acknowledge him again or suffer the same censure; if the marriage didn’t work and they separated, he was responsible for her care as she would be set aside from society and forced to live in isolation.

He looked over at his parents, Alan was pinching the bridge of his nose trying to quell his anger knowing that his mate had put Jensen in an impossible situation as Donna sat there with a fake, placid look.

His own mother had irrevocably bound him to this Omega for the rest of his life.

The rest of the ceremony was a blur, neither party was required to say anything, there was no exchange of rings or a kiss at the end. The minister finished the ceremony and turned to the altar signing the marriage certificate with a quill pen dipped in ink. Jensen signed next, his hand was shaking so violently in anger making his signature barely legible.

The Omega didn’t sign, only her name was required for legality and the minister filled it in. He poured a powder on it to set the ink, blew off the access, rolled it up and tied it with a piece of twine before handing it to Jensen offering his blessings for a fruitful marriage. It took every ounce of his acting ability to politely smile, shake his hand, thanking the minister for the proceedings.

He turned, marching out without acknowledging his bride and she obediently followed behind him, pausing to grab her shoes along the way and scurrying to the waiting limousine climbing in after him.

Jensen sat in the back on the farthest side pouring himself a drink from the bar as his new wife sat quietly near the still open door. A few minutes later Jensen was on his third glass of whiskey when his parents climbed in and the chauffeur shut the door. He started the limo and as they pulled out Alan pressed the button to close the privacy window between them.

The tension in the back was so palatable an icebreaker couldn’t have cut through it. “Donna how could you…” Alan was unable to say anymore, his disgust for what had happened thick in those few words. “I did nothing wrong,” she snapped back, “I only had Jensen’s best interests…”

“Like when you threatened to sabotage my friendship with Jared again? By the way, Clif’s the one who dropped the dime on what happened after I passed out last night, not Jared, so you don’t get to blame him for that too.” Jensen threw back the rest of his drink before continuing.

“Oh, don’t think I’ve ever been ignorant of your disdain for him ‘cause the clan he comes from isn’t good enough for those highfalutin bitches in your social circle. Or how you’ve persuaded me to do this only to find out you took it to the extreme, forcing me into an impossible situation, accept this marriage or lose everything. Congratulations mom, you are still the queen bitch, sorry, bee, your precious reputation is secure.”

They traveled the rest of the way in silence. The limousine pulled onto the grounds of the country club in front of its grand entrance. Jensen got out before the chauffeur finished putting the car in park leaving his new wife to scramble out behind him as Alan and Donna got out the other side.

Jensen finally took a good look at his bride. She was in a simple, modestly cut, long sleeved dress, the only adornments a row of buttons down the bodice, no jewelry and apparently a pair of shoes that didn’t fit as she was struggling to get them on.

She was still fussing with her left shoe when he spoke in a stern voice, “Since our wedding was in the traditional, we’ll continue with its edicts. You are not to remove that veil, acknowledge or speak to anyone. You will not leave my side for any reason. Where I go, you go, three steps behind me. Nod once if you understand.” She nodded once.

“Son, I think…”

“Dad, as the traditional also states, I’m well within my rights to make demands of my Omega without interference, am I not?”

Alan acquiesced, “Yes, you are.”

“So” Jensen rubbed his hands together, “let’s go celebrate this disaster, shall we.” Putting on a fake smile, he went into the venue to greet his family with his Omega obediently three steps behind him.

*** Several hours later

“This shit has got to stop cause I swear it’s the only time I’m doing this dad.” Josh grunts, annoyance thickening his voice as he helped guide his inebriated brother to his hotel room. “Come on.. have ‘nother drunk, ‘posed to be celebrating my disaster marriage to that…’mega..don’t even want her.”

“Jensen, shut the fuck up! I’m not gonna stand here and let you insult your mate.” Josh snapped at him.

Jensen ripped his arm loose, “ ‘en go, not stopping you…and she’s not my mate,” his free arm waves unsteadily as he points towards his new wife standing by the main door, “my real mate took my money, my home, my fucking heart!!!”

Josh turned his back on his brother, “Jensen, I can’t stand seeing you like this, you need to get it together.” He headed for the main door,  pausing to speak to his brother’s new wife, “I’m sorry he’s taken his anger out on you now. My brother is a good man, an honorable Alpha,” he stepped close to her and lowered his voice, “there is far more to this than what you’ve been told, please be patient with him.” He left slamming the door behind him.

“Fuck him,” Jensen muttered staggering into the bedroom and sitting on the edge of the bed slumped over.

“Jensen, your brother is right, you have got to pull yourself together. Therefore, as the Alpha of our clan, you are banned from our family. When you are back to being yourself, the Alpha you once were, you may appeal for re-admittance.”

Alan then did something he hadn’t done since Jensen was a small child, he bent over and placed a kiss on his son’s head, “I love you and I want my son back.” Nodding to his new daughter in law he left.

It hurt him tremendously knowing he wouldn’t see his son for a long time but it was for his own good. Now his Omega was the only one who could help him mend. Hopefully Jensen would see this marriage wasn’t the biggest mistake he’s imagined it to be.

Jensen didn’t move until he heard someone shuffling their feet. He looked up squinting at his new wife still standing by the bedroom door. Sitting up straight he grunted at her and passed out, falling backwards on the mattress. She slowly walked over and hesitated a moment before reaching out touching his shoulder, shaking him.

Getting no response she sat down near him lifting her right foot, gingerly removing the ill fitting shoe with a gasp and then repeated with her left. The blisters on both her heels that had busted open earlier were raw and had bleed. She detached her veil and wadded it up, stuffing it in a shoe and bent over untying Jensen’s and removed them too.

Standing up she gripped both his jacket lapels and hefted him upright to lean against her as she worked it off letting him flop back down and unbuttons his shirt leaving him sleep the case of everything he drank off. She left a pain reliever and bottled water on the nightstand.

Quietly shutting the bath door she found the dress had too many small buttons down the back. She laughed mirthlessly at the irony she was stuck in the dress like this marriage. Pulling the skirt up over her knees she sat on the counter to soak and clean her sore feet in the basin.

Once the worst of the ache was gone she pulled the drain and climbed off to finish washing up the best she could. The mirror reflects back the emotional toll of the last few months in her eyes.

She went over to the bed only to find her husband had moved, sprawled out over its entire surface. Searching for extra bedding and not finding any she gave up going back into the main room and curled up on the couch hoping to find a comfortable position to get some sleep for a few hours so she could briefly forget what her life had become.

Part II

SPN: @donnaintx​​​

Dean/Jensen: @flamencodiva

[drblueneck]

The super rec list offered by @darka-3363 and that I need to share with y'all because she has some REALLY GOOD tastes and I now need to open new tabs (I just counted how many fics I have opened in my "to be read" Internet browser... 34. Ffs, I'll never read them all...) I already read "Wolf and Cub" forever ago, which has HILARIOUS moments with jounins "pulling a Hatake" left and right, splendidly cracky *chief's kiss*. And I remember wanting to read Lost Uzumaki but hesitating for a long time since it seemed to have been abandoned, but now that I see it again... ugh, I can't help it, I just HAVE TO READ IT! One day, I'll give you guys my own rec list, but beware that it'll be filled with angsty angst <3

Here, there are some of my fic recommendations since I have like over a hundred saved between ff.net and AO3:

Lost Uzumaki - One Piece and Naruto crossover, I just know you'll like it.

Vulpine - Naruto accidentally reverse-summons himself to the foxes.

Cheaters Prosper - A one-shot, Naruto legally cheats at being ninja Chuunin Exams.

The Game of Go - Konoha is contracted by Dumbledore to guard Harry Potter, and they send Naruto and Sasuke.

Akatsuki Babysitter's Club - Obito sees Kakashi try to dad Naruto and decides they're a disaster waiting to happen, and reveals himself much earlier.

I am NOT going through puberty again! - Naruto, Sasuke, Sakura and Hinata are thrown back in time and make an utter mess of the past.

To Be Lost on the Road of Life - Obito gets smacked to the past, and becomes a reluctant hero, all the while thinking it should have been Naruto to travel back and not him.

Wolf and cub (Or how small children became the new must have missing nin accessory) - Kakashi kidnaps 4 year old Naruto and go missing nin.