#i got turned around for several seconds right at the beginning of my third attempt

[stickiy-note]

Forcing a motion controls mario kart player to use stick controls for a racing minigame is torture...

[chaoticxbeast]

Raph gets a taste of his own medicine part 4

First part. Second part. Third part. Fourth part

Context: Raph is targeted by Hun and forced to fight several waves of purple dragons on his own.

Content: Violence, some humor. Wordcount: 1050

--

The third wave was a group of four experienced purple dragons. Slice and Sparks, Tank, and Bruiser.

Slice was a wiry man with a permanent sneer that twisted his face into something untrustworthy. His hair slicked back, his skin was sickly white, and he had beady eyes that seemed to gleam with malice.

Sparks was a lanky guy, with a green mohawk, wearing camo and cargo pants, with random gear stuffed in his pockets. He also wore small round glasses that reflected the light from the small windows in the gym, making it hard to figure out where his eyes were focused.

Tank was a towering muscular man with a shaved head and scars across his knuckles. Raphael noted the vacant look in his eye, figuring he wasn´t exactly the leader of the group.

Bruiser was a lot like Tank, but with a more focused look upon his face. As if he wasn´t really a bad kind of guy, but just here on duty. He was a hulking man, with a broad jaw, broken nose and cauliflower ears, and he had old bruises all over his arms. Raph grinned up at him in attempt to intimidate him, but Bruiser just stared at him in return, as if to show dominance.

While Raph was the type of fighter that could flow well with chaos and impulsivity, these four had planned their approach. Slice and Sparks moved to flank the turtle, surrounding him, while the other two stayed put. Their tactic was to confuse, intimidate, and distract.

Sparks twirled his weapon, filling the air around them with electricity to confuse Raph´s senses. And Slice made darting movements, feigning attacks with his knives, causing him to feel on edge.

Raph was pissed. He didn’t have his weapons—this was a school night, after all—and the whole fight was beginning to feel unfair and infuriating.

“You know what?” Raph said. “You guys are bullies. This isn’t a fair fight. I don’t even have my weapons!”

“Maybe you should’ve prepared better,” Hun said casually, as if offering helpful advice.

“What? How? How could I have possibly prepared better?”

Suddenly, Tank charged forward with a steel baseball bat. Raph ducked just in time, diving low and locking his arms tightly around Tank’s legs. Using the brute’s weight and momentum against him, Raph held on hard, sending Tank crashing face-first onto the floor with a loud thud.

Tank fell on his face, and Raph got up with a grin on his face, grabbing the metal bat. Now he was feeling better. Raph spun the bat in his hand, and then instantly made a forceful swing at Slice’s face. Slice took the hit and wobbled back, grabbing his face and dropping his knives with a clatter. But before Raph could turn around, Sparks darted in from the side and struck him across the shell with his stun baton.

Raph couldn’t understand what had hit him, and dropped to his knees from the shock coursing through his body.

However, being a mutant, Raph had more durability and strength than most. He got back up on his feet, and turned with a furious growl, eyes blazing with anger, as if the pain triggered something volatile in him. "I’m gonna fucking kill you guys!"

Sparks faltered, bravado fading from his face and Slice laughed, a loud sharp shrilling sound that rubbed Raph the wrong way. Slice elbowed Sparks playfully. "Heehe..Now you’re gonna get it."

Raph waisted no time, and threw the bat full force at Sparks face. Sparks was hit right in the jaw, and fell backwards, knocked out cold. In the flow and completely beserk, Raph grabbed the stun baton and made two chaotic swipes at Slice, who darted out of the way.

And then Bruiser moved. His massive fist came down on Raph´s shell, hitting him like a hammer. Raph lost the baton, dropping on his knees, gritting his teeth through the pain. He was soon up again, and punched Bruiser hard in the lower gut. The turtle then bounced on his feet for a moment, before sending a spinning kick at Bruiser’s face.

Bruiser was down, but Tank was up again, and hit Raph across the plastron with his steel bat, once and twice. Raph coughed, and groaned, and fell on his face. It looked like the fight was over, and Hun walked over to Raph, kneeling down.

"Uh. I guess it’s time." Hun said. "Someone? cut off his finger."

"Well we’re done here." Tank said, hauling up his friends up from the floor. "Cutting off his finger huh, that’s fucked up."

"Well I’m not doing it. I don’t wanna hurt him." Hun said.

That was when Mr.Karma, the guy next to Casey and Angel (On the top row of the bleachers) got up.

"I’ll do it boss."

Casey Jones exchanged a look with Angel, who merely shrugged and got to her feet as well. “I wanna see this,” she muttered.

"Cut off his finger? Why??"

"To pay off my bike, for example. Apparently mutant fingers sell well." Angel replied coldly, and Casey wondered where he had failed.

“You need therapy,” Casey said bluntly. Then, louder: “Actually, you all need therapy!” Without waiting for a response, Casey kicked Mr. Karma in the back, sending him tumbling down the bleachers. “Goongala!”

Mr. Karma, apparently the last one of the fourth wave, hit the floor with a loud crash.

An awkward silence broke out, before several of the purple dragons, began to make their way out of the gym, some limping, and some were scared, knowing just how violent that hockey guy could get.

"Angel? You´re friends with this guy?" Hun asked.

"I don’t know him," She said, glaring at Casey, and stood next to Hun.

"Listen. I’m taking the turtle back out of here. And you better stop doing this..dumbass shit." Casey said, pointing a finger at Hun.

Hun sighed. Actually he just wanted to head home now too. "Whatever. Not like I’m the boss.."

Casey held his hands up for a moment, and made his way to the turtle. He crouched down, poking Raph in the shoulder. "Hey? Buddy. You alive?" Raph made a soft low groan.

"Oh good." Casey grabbed his arm and pulled Raph up from the floor. Raph seemed dazed, but in good shape besides a couple bruises. "Did..Did I kick their butts?" Raph groaned, voice low and hoarse.

"Sure did." Casey patted his strange green face.

"I´m awesome.." Raph grinned weakly. "Who´re you?"

"Name´s Casey. Lets get you out of here."

[battleangelaelita]

Because I’m back on my bullshit and apparently one major Azula-centric fic is not enough, I’ve drafted treatments for two more in between picking away at the next chapter of Cinder.

Shattered God

The first, more fleshed out of the two, I’ve given the working title Shattered God, and in vibes I’d say it’s got a healthy dose of John Le Carre spy fiction. It begins ten years after ATLA’s finale, with Azula living under an assumed name in the nascent Republic City. This is not a redemption arc fic; in the time since she escaped the asylum she was incarcerated, she’s tried very hard to just leave it all behind her.

Some days, she’s almost succeeded in forgetting about her old life. Here, as “Lazuli”, she’s made a life of her own, by her own sweat and blood. It’s something she can be proud of, an achievement that can never be taken away. She fell into the brickmaker’s trade when she arrived here, and now she’s a master of the craft. Every day she goes down to the docks with her earthbending apprentice and they buy clay, ash and chalk. They mix them in the right proportions with waterbenders working hand in hand, and they mold them into bricks. When they’ve dried, they kiln them, leaving behind something that will outlive any of them; bricks are used and re-used as structures rise and fall.

This daydream where she can forget she’s Azula ends one day when Toph arrives to arrest her. Azula decides to go quietly. This turns out to be Zuko’s rather heavy handed way of recruiting her for a special job; he’s known her whereabouts for several years and decided to let sleeping dragons lie.

There was an attempted assassination against Zuko and his wife, Fire Lady Katara. Though it failed, it was clear immediately that this plot had men on the inside. There’s a fifth column forming against the Fire Lord, and without knowing who to trust, in desperation Zuko has turned to the one person 1) canny enough to unravel the conspiracy 2) who could not possibly have been involved: Azula.

After a very tense meeting, Azula agrees with great reluctance. It’s only the knowledge that the plot also targeted the Fire Lord’s infant child that sways her, even with Zuko’s strongarming. There is no love lost, but Azula will sus out the traitors.

Act II will be Azula working clandestinely through the threads of evidence, and the many power players in the court. Faced with an overabundance of people with means and motive to be involved in a potential coup, she has to tread carefully. Azula’s not the prodigy she once was; she’s tried to leave that martial part of her life behind her, and her minimally treated PTSD poses a serious threat if she does get into a fight.

Cast-wise, Azula’s interactions, besides the unresolved conflict with Zuko and Ursa, will revolve around Aang and Mai--two people at the top of Zuko’s suspect list, but who nonetheless still are willing to help regardless of how they’ve been personally hurt by the Fire Lord and Fire Lady.

Untitled Irredeemable Azula fic

The second one is less fully fleshed out. It is at this point mostly a concept, and I am still working out how to make the plot and structure less obviously derivative. But the basic idea that has been haunting me is a burning need to create an ATLA story where Azula can play the role of the monster that some people think she is, and do so in a way that can really just pull the rug out from under the reader.

The concept has been heavily inspired by one of my favorite novels, Use of Weapons by Iain M. Banks. It’s one of the few works of fiction that deploys a devastating third act twist that totally turns the reader on their head about the entire story thus far, yet has already given you ever clue you need to know the twist.

The spoiler free version is that it’s a story about a man named Zakalwe whose been spending decades playing mercenary for the good guys, fighting their fights against impossible odds because he’s got a knack for that, while trying to live with and redeem a past that’s haunted him. It’s slowly fed to the reader that many years ago on his home planet, Zakalwe and his foster brother Elithiomel had a very fraught relationship being raised in an aristocratic military family, fighting for recognition for their achievements, the affection of their family, and their place in this rigidly militarist society (does this remind you of anybody).

This conflict culminates in the two of them being major leaders on opposing sides of their country’s civil war, and the man called Zakalwe has been living in the shadow of their final confrontation and how it tore their family apart.

The challenge, of course, is keeping the twist and it’s revelation without being too derivative. It may ultimately not be worth the trouble. I’m mostly throwing this into the void with the hopes of finding at least one other ATLA fan who has also read Use of Weapons and can maybe talk sense into me.

[hereforhalstead]

Ambo 61

*Gif not mine, credits to the owner*

• Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader 

• Requested:  “I’ve missed being like this with you”

• Warnings: mention of fire/fatality/needles

• Summary: You’re instructed to contact Jay to assist with a fire you’ve been called to and he’s there to support you after dealing with your first faitality.

• Words: 3978

• A/N :  Thanks so much for this request! I’m not over struck with it and it’s quite short but wanted to get it posted - hope you enjoy xx

***

Tonight was your third night shift in a row at the firehouse, starting to take its toll as you slumped around looking for any excuse to take the weight off your feet just for a few moments.

You were grateful Severide had got you the job as paramedic alongside Brett but you were now feeling like you’d been hit by a truck with all of these night shifts.

The firehouse was a close unit, everyone had each other’s back and looked out for one another. This always helped with your down days but everyone hits their breaking points and sometimes the adrenaline rush was the only thing keeping you going.

What made it worse was seeing everyone else seeming to be having the time of their lives, throwing a ball around by the trucks but you slouched in Severide’s chair with your feet kicked up on the table in front of you.

Eyes just about coming to a close as you hear that dreaded alarm which sends everyone running ‘Truck 51. Squad 3. Ambo 61 fire reported on the corner of 8th street” no matter how drained you were it was always able to put that spring in your step and you were in the ambo and out the door in seconds.

You could hear the sirens following closely behind you, scanning your wing mirror to see the parade of flashing lights that tailed down the street and towards the fire.

“You good?” Sylvie asks, snapping you out of your thoughts “night shifts taking their toll, nothing unusual” you joked but she still mirrored the look of concern on her face with her furrowed brows and occasional glare at you as she drove.

“Really I’m fine. Just looking forward to being in my own bed” you gazed out in front of you as you continued on towards the scene “Not long girl, only a few hours to go” she gives you her doting smile as she slams her foot down on the peddle to speed through an intersection

“everything alright with you and Jay?” She asks and you shrug “only see him for a few hours these days and even then it’s mostly when he’s asleep and I’m sat on the sofa wide awake” you admit, letting the words fall out of your mouth before you can even think about it.

“He’s so proud of you though” her cheery voice changes the tone of conversation “I always hear him brag about you in Molly’s, you’ve got yourself a good’un there Y/N” you feel the heat rise to your cheeks and smile creep on your face “i just miss him” you huff and reach for the energy drink that was by your side.

“I thought Jay told you to not drink those anymore” she utters as the truck comes to a stop, making her way to your side after grabbing the medic bag from the back.

“He’s not here right now” you remind her “What he doesn’t know, won’t hurt him” you add, causing her to cock her eyebrow at you and chuckle “You’re brave”.

You put Sylvies comment to the back of your mind as you head over to the scene in front of you, Casey already with his team positioning the engine by the fire hydrant across the street whist Severide and the squad were storming over to the building that was currently ablaze.

You had barely stepped over the threshold as a girl no older than 5 came sprinting towards you, wrapping herself round your legs as she clung to you with all of her might. Whilst your mind was now on the young girl, a woman who was presumably the mother quickly followed in running out of the building and towards you.

She gripped at your shoulder as Sylvie eased her off of you, stood in shock as you barely had a chance to familiarise and asses the situation before being presented with two victims.

After several rounds of tests, being confident that neither of the victims required rushing to med for urgent treatment you helped them wrap up and had the oxygen masks placed round their necks just in case they felt the need.

Whilst securing the young girls blanket you thought back to you sat in the chair an hour ago, nearly asleep and wishing to not hear that alarm but here you were.

Back with your head on the job and dedicating yourself to the people who needed you, proving to yourself that you were good enough and deserved your spot with the great team you had surrounding you.

You looked up to see the fire dwindling out and Casey rounding up his team, Severide was retracting the ladders back onto the truck as the rest of the squad shuffled out of the fragile building that barely stood in front of you. 

You were awaiting the go ahead from the Chief that you could leave, taking a swig from your energy drink and placing it back into the front of the ambo where you were earlier sat. Making your way round to the back of the truck to sit with the mother and daughter, still understandably shaken but doing well considering how bad things could have been.

“How long have you lived here?” You questioned, making small talk to pass the time and attempt to keep their minds preoccupied “Nearly 4 years, we moved in when I was pregnant and haven’t looked back since” the mother opens up, the young girl under her arm beside her.

You shifted your focus onto the girl, sat staring at the ground with her head hung low to lean on her elbows “How you doing sweetie?” You asked but didn’t get a response. The mother looked down on her daughter, you moved yourself so you could be in front of her and reach her eye level.

“You tell the lady if something hurts or you don’t feel well Claudia?” Still no response, you gently reach your hand to place on her shoulder but she flinches “It’s okay, I’m not gonna hurt you” you whisper, leaning towards her for empathy “Will my daddy be okay?” Her voice cracks and you look to the mother who looks just as puzzled as you.

“Daddy’s at work, honey?” She asks with the same panic and confusion laced in her tone “I saw him come through the back door just before the fire started” she confesses “He was with another man who told him he was in trouble” she continues and you scan around to see if they pulled anyone else out of the fire but you had no such luck.

“And you’re sure your daddy was in the house before the fire?” You yet again ask to try and get the facts before you go off and panic to one of the others “I’m positive!” She raises her voice but you try to keep her calm.

“is he going to be okay?” She probes towards her Mother but you excuse yourself to go and talk to Severide who stood on the other side of the truck with Casey.

“You guys pull anyone else out of there?” You question but can tell by the looks on their faces and the happiness in their banter they thought it was a successful save with two victims being relatively unharmed, their faces fall as they realise what you’re asking

“Just the two” Severide answers before Casey nods in agreement “Only the mother and daughter, rest of the place was clear” he adds, sounding confident in his answer. “You mind going inside to do one more double check? She seems certain her dad was inside when the place went up but the mother doesn’t seem to have a clue” you quietly recount to the two lieutenants who waste no time in rounding up a few of their team and heading back inside.

You decide to wait by the rig to avoid more questions from the victims as you really had no answers and didn’t feel right speaking to them before you knew more.

Minutes go by and your eyes are pinned to the door that the men walked through just moments before, nervously biting on your fingernails and feeling your heart pounding in your chest. Silently hoping it was from the energy drink and not the nauseous feeling you had in the pit of your stomach that you knew something wasn’t going right.

Casey appears at the door and nods his head for you to go over, you follow his command and find yourself bounding over “you might wanna call your boy toy” he murmurs, aware of the close proximity of the mother and daughter that sat close by “Jay?” You question to which he nods “We got a body.”

You do as you’re told and call Jay who you can hear immediately gathers up the available Intelligence members and leaves the district. You head back to the ambo, trying to hurry yourself but also attempting to not raise suspicion as you’re being intently watched by both the mother and daughter who sat before you “what’s going on?”

The mother stands and makes her way over to you and the front of the truck “I’m just gonna need you to stay with your daughter ma’am” you try and be as aversive as possible whilst already knowing that wasn’t going to be enough for the distressed lady “Was my husband in there?” She asks, dread and fear laced through her voice as she stands with her arms crossed over her chest trying to hold herself together.

Before you have a chance to speak, you’re interrupted by the sound of sirens coming from down the street, you turn to see several trucks speeding down towards you. Jay and Voight in the first vehicle that screeches to a stop, closely followed by Adam, Hailey and Kevin who are soon to follow suit and begin to push back nosey neighbours.

“What’s going on?” Jay heads over to you with Voight hot on his heels “Hailey” you call out to catch her attention and of course she is quick to leave the bystanders to Kevin and Adam as she joins you with Voight and Jay.

“Can you just stay with the mother? Sylvie is keeping an eye on the daughter but I need you to keep her calm” you plead and she nods and turns to introduce herself to the mother “Why don’t we take a seat?” She suggests as she geustures towards the back of the ambo where Claudia is sat.

Surprisingly she obliges and follows her guide, stopping to do the occasional double take but soon being out of sight and back with her daughter.

“You gonna tell us what’s going on?” Voight wastes not time to question as you take them over to Casey who is still in the doorway waiting for them “she said she saw her dad in the house before the fire but the mother had no idea as she thought he was at work.

They went back into investigate and” you’re cut off by a body bag passing you, the vile smell hitting you as it goes by. You quickly turn your head to try and avoid it but it was inescapable.

Jay places his hand to the top of your back as he furrows his brows in concern “you good?” He probes, concentration now more on you as Voight speaks to Casey “Good” you reassure, smile flashing on your face but he remains stern as you feel his eyes bore into you as you turn your attention back onto Voight and Casey .

“We didn’t spot it at first, he was crouched in this room that we didn’t know existed behind one of the cabinets” Casey ushers the three of you into the building, still feeling the warmth coming from the torn apart walls and the smell of ash clogging your every thought.

“Any ID?” Voight let’s himself into the room Casey had just mentioned, Jay allows you to step in first before following. The room was tiny, shocked it could fit a grown man at all, looking more like a pantry that was never used or something they intended on expanding but never did as it laid empty for all these years.

“What am I gonna tell her?” You mumble, feeling the lump in your throat and the thought of explaining the situation to the already shaken up pair sat outside “we’ll do it” Jay is quick to answer, you’re relieved to see Voight nod in agreement and not rip into Jay for speaking before thinking.

A less than helpful tendency he had when it came to you but in this case he was right as it was up to them to break the news to the family and not on you. You still wanted to be there as they relaid the heartbreaking information to the mother, being a familiar face made all the difference in these situations and whether you liked it or not you had to put that to one side and be there for support.

You watched as Jay respectfully informed the mother, watching the blood drain from her face and the strength leave her body as she began to fall to the ground.

You and Jay both instinctively lunged forward to catch her, pulling her up to now being held in Jay’s arms as she sobbed into his chest “I can’t tell Claudia, they were so close” she uttered through your tears and your heart broke, you were fortunate enough to be on the job long enough to have your fair share of threatening injuries but so far no fatalities.

You were soon learning on the job what it was like to deal with it first hand. You scan over to Hailey and Sylvie who were now both with the young girl, oblivious to her mother’s sobs as she faces away in deep distraction “why don’t we get you both to med and we can go from there?” You suggest, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder to which she nods, still buried in Jay’s chest and clutching at his arms.

You do your best to slowly unwrap her tight grasp from Jay and pull her towards you, her tear stained face was now bright red and body temperature rocketing in stress.

“Go with Y/N and we will be in touch when we have some more news” Jay consoles, still with a quiet and calming voice to try and not add to the intense situation. You had never seen him like this at work, he’d been called to a number of your jobs but only to help with rough crowds or to arrest a suspect who was injured.

He helped you through this process whether he knew it or not, if it wasn’t for him staying so calm who knows how you would’ve handled it..

Sylvie peers her head round the side of the ambo and calls out to the mother “we’ve got a little girl back here who wants her mother” she tilts her heads towards the girl before noticing the state she was in.

You give a subtle shake of your head which she thankfully spots “on second thought, why don’t you ride in the back with me and my partner will take care of your mother” she speaks to young girl in an excited tone to try and deflect away from where you were stood with Jay and the devestated woman.

“Yeah!” Claudia exclaims before climbing into the back of the ambo and settling on the seat “I can do it, I need to be with her” you hear the timid voice from beside you crack with every word. She takes a deep inhale and wipes away the tears that had stained her cheeks.

“If you need anything, give me a call no matter what hour” Jay hands her his card with a comforting smile. He flicks his eyes over you as you guide the woman towards the back of the ambo “keep me updated” he points at you to which you nod before he heads back over to join Voight who was still in the house with the rest of the team.

**

A few hours go by and you’re on your way from med, truly drained and ready to crash in your bed at the station. What started as luckily, a less than intense fire soon took a turn and had you put through your paces when you were least expecting it.

You and Sylvie both sat in silence, finishing the last of your energy drink as you toss the empty can by your feet “you still drinking that? It’s like 10pm” Sylvie chuckles as you keep your eyes staring out of the window at the darkness, her hands clinging to the steering wheel as you sat back in your seat and huffed.

“you remember the first time you see a dead body?” You question, avoiding her comments about the energy drink as you really weren’t in the mood.

“Yep. Turned up to a house call, man said his wife had been quiet and had locked herself in the bedroom, we got in and there she was laid on the floor with a needle sticking out of her arm” she woefully speaks, eyes still firmly on the road

“as much as I try and forget it, it will never leave me” she adds but you remain silent “Did you see him?” She asks to break the silence that had fallen in the ambo, the only noise being the humming of the engine and equipment clanging in the back.

“Not even, just a body bag” you admit “that shook me up enough, who knows what I’m gonna be like with an actual body” you slump further into your chair, crossing your legs in the footwell.

“maybe I’m not cut out for this” you confess and feel her eyes snap to you “are you crazy? You’ve just experienced your first fatality and you still managed to keep calm and I most importantly keep the others calm” slight strain in her voice as she continues to speak

“If you’re not doubting your job after a rough call, you didn’t do it right”.

Her words play in your mind for the rest of the journey, resting your head on the window as you pull into the station. You open the door to jump out when she tugs on your hand to stop you.

“You did good Y/N. Don’t let anyone tell you different” you give her a half hearted smile before stepping down out of the vehicle. Slamming the door behind you with a deep exhale “oh, her day has just got a whole lot better” you hear her chime, your head hanging low as you make your way over to the other side to join her.

You turn the corner to see Jay stood besides Severide, signature mischievous grin and arms outstretched towards you “you really think I wouldn’t be here waiting for you?” He questions as you stroll over to him, wanting to bound into his arms but knowing how you’d never hear the end of it from the surrounding team which now all had their eyes on you.

“come on” Sylvie grabs at Kelly’s arm “let’s give them a moment” she ushers him away from the pair of you as you stand engulfed in Jay’s arms.

“You still working?” You question, leaning into Jay’s chest as he runs his fingertips up and down your back “Finished hours ago, been waiting here for you” he mumbles into the top of your head as he places a kiss to your temple.

“Thought I could stay here tonight? Can’t sleep alone in that bed for another night, I’ll go insane” you pull back to see his toothy grin beaming down onto you as you feel your heart pull

“you’re gonna stay here? With me?” You question, still latched onto his chest as he gently pushes your hair back from your face “that alright?”.

You nod into him but still want to stay wrapped up in his presence as you feel everything wash away and all of the stress dissolve in your body when he holds you. “Come on, let’s get you to your bed” he gently taps at your lower back, signalling for you to unattach yourself from him.

You resist your urges and escape his grasp but he soon slings his arm round your shoulders to pull you back into him as you walk towards the station bunks.

“I haven’t heard great things about these from you so if I get a bad back we know why” he chuckles into your hair as he places a kiss to the side of your head as you continue to walk.

“That isn’t an energy drink I smell is it?” He pulls you under his arm and closer into him. You clear your throat as he does his best to remain stern “uh, no. Just fumes” you try to slightly pull away to reduce the smell but he had you in his hold and you both knew you weren’t getting out “ah those classic fumes, always forget about those”.

You and Jay laid in silence on your station bed, luckily in the corner to stay away from prying eyes which you know your nosey team would have.

Laying content as you find your natural position with your head on him and his arm wrapped around you, hand splayed on your hip as the other absentmindedly fiddles with your fingers resting on chest.

The silence isn’t uncomfortable and awkward, feeling the need to start small talk in efforts to make some form of conversation. Instead it’s a comfortable silence, filled with happiness and content with being back where you belong.

Jay let’s out a deep exhale as he rubs light circles into your skin but keeps his eyes on the ceiling above “you know you can always talk to me” he whispers, aware of other people in the room behind asleep.

You angle your head to look up at him, catching his attention as he glances down at you “I’ll get over it, just another day at the office” you try and make light of the situation but he wasn’t having it.

“I’m serious” he scowls but not out of anger, more of concern “I don’t want you bottling this up” he runs his thumb over your temple in a comforting motion “I won’t, I promise” you return your head back to his chest as he intertwines your fingers with his.

“I’ve missed being like this with you” he confesses, seemingly out of the blue as you return to your comfortable silence. You place a kiss to the exposed skin through the neckline of his T-shirt and nuzzle further into the crook of his neck “I missed you too”.

He lets out a content hum as he tightens his grip on your side and closing the near enough already nonexsistant gap between the pair of you “my life isn’t the same without you in it” he whispers but by this point you’ve closed your eyes and we’re dozing in and out of sleep, soothed by the soft rhythm within his chest “sleep tight baby”.

***

Inbox and requests always open🥰

[fanficimagery]

Lost and then Found pt. I

Imagine being taken by HYDRA. After years with them, they set you loose on someone you haven't seen in a while. Unfortunately for HYDRA, you weren't as susceptible to their mind experiments like they thought.

Words: 8.6K Author's Note: Major trigger warning! There will be a bit of talk about non-consensual pregnancies and some failed pregnancies from said attempts. Also I didn’t want to post this, but this upcoming week is going to be stressful for me and I honestly don’t know how much writing I’ll get done. Please read the bottom note for help on hopefully part 2 of this.

Tag list: @aya-fay @70s-chic @sipsteacasually @kaitlyn2907 @scarlettwitch99 @thingsforimagination @b1sexualtonystark @living-that-best-life @alexnicolaidisss @l0ve-0f-my-life @eliwinchester99 @mimilh @rosesloml  @meredeph @lexy9716​ 

The team had been hanging around various floors of the tower when FRIDAY alerted everyone that they were needed in the meeting room ASAP. And when FRIDAY sounded urgent, the team knew it must be serious. Leaving the gym, Steve and Bucky run into Clint and Natasha who had been coming out of the locker rooms.

"Any idea what's going on?" Bucky asks Nat.

She shakes her head. "FRIDAY wouldn't cough up any more information. I contacted Tony, but he just urged me to get my ass moving."

As they wait for the elevator, the doors slide open and they nod to Wanda who's already standing in the back corner. With her arms crossed over her chest, she nods to each of her teammates as they file in. Ever since she had lost Vision, she hadn't been quite herself and everyone knew to give her whatever time she needed.

In the meeting room, the atmosphere is immediately tense. Sam is at the table and as a testament to how serious the situation is he doesn't even crack a joke the second he lays eyes on Bucky. Everyone takes a seat, with the exception of Tony who's still pacing at the front of the room with a tablet in his hand.

"Tony," Steve calls out. "What's going on?"

A moment passes and then Tony stops at the head of the table, looking up. "This." He swipes up on his tablet screen, sending a video hologram to the middle of the table so everyone can see. "This came in about fifteen minutes ago."

The video plays and the team watches on in shocked speechlessness. The video shows a young girl who couldn't have yet been a teenager be strapped down to a gurney and injected with several different vials. They listen as the poor girl screams and thrashes, and sobs about burning on the inside.

The video cuts out before popping up again and shows the same girl, a little older this time, and having a mouth piece shoved into her small mouth before a contraption is lowered around her head. Eyes dart to Bucky and no one says a word as his metal arm whirs when he watches the young girl go through something very similar to what he went through. As she screams, the video cuts out again yet again.

Everyone had been so focused on Bucky's reaction, that no one paid any attention to Wanda as her eyes widened when the video came back for a third round. The girl on screen is definitely older now, her baby fat has all but vanished, and she looks defeated. Her hair hangs in limp strands around her face and there's a collar around her neck that Wanda knows gives off one hell of a shock to the person wearing it when they disobeyed orders. An older male walks into view and the girl cowers away. She winces, her hands flying up to the collar around her neck. "Begin," a voice then sounds. The male lunges for the small female and she tries her best to fend off his blows, but she ends up beaten and bloodied within thirty seconds. At the end of the fight the man is given instructions and then he walks over to the girl, kneeling down and biting her around the wrist. She screams, the man takes a bullet to the back of the head, and the video cuts out.

This time when the video comes back, the girl looks a little more steadier on her feet and less beaten down. She looks ready for a fight. Towards the end of the clip she has bloodied, pointed fingertips. She's shoved back into a chair and that's when her emotionless mask drops, begging to not be wiped. She screams as they start the procedure and then by the end of it there are no more tears. There's just an emotionless female awaiting orders as the video cuts out.

Finally the last clip shows her fighting like she's been doing it for years, taking down one attacker after the other until she's the last one left standing. There's a sharp whistle and the girl stands at attention, and the video zooms in on her stoic expression before cutting out altogether.

"Who sent this, Tony?" Steve readily asks.

"Don't know. I have FRIDAY chasing an IP address that just keeps pinging in every part of the world."

"Do we even know who she is?" Natasha asks. "And what the whole point of this video was?"

"No. Not a cl-"

"Her name is Y/N." Everyone looks to Wanda who can't take her gaze off her hands in her lap. "She was already there with HYDRA when Pietro and I showed up so long ago."

"Willingly?" Clint wonders.

Wanda shakes her head. "When we had gotten there, she had just turned nineteen. She was already stronger than the average human, but we never truly saw what she could do. She was different." She finally looks up, expression sad. "HYDRA was not all that we thought it would be, but by then there was no turning back. We'd seen Y/N around base, but she was always so stoic and never spoke to anyone. But when we had one on one time with her and the guards would leave us under her care, it was like a switch had flipped within her. She was so much lighter and she spoke to us like we had been friends since we were children."

"Why didn't we find her the first time we met you and your brother?" Tony then asks.

"She had been gone for weeks by then. They told us she was killed on a mission they sent her on, and that me and Pietro were going to be the new fists of HYDRA."

"The last video was stamped a week ago," Bucky says. "HYDRA lied."

Sam huffs. "Of course they did."

"They must have seen you, your brother, and Y/N getting friendly. They couldn't have their best weapons socializing and turning against them," Bucky says.

Clint sighs. "So what's the plan?"

"We get her back," Wanda says, leaving no room for Tony or Steve to say otherwise. "She was forcefully taken, unlike Pietro and I. She does not belong with them."

"It's been years, Wanda," Natasha says softly. "She might not be the same girl you knew."

"But what if she is? She is the only family I have left."

For a long moment no one says anything, so Tony takes it upon himself. "Then we look for her, but you're responsible for getting through to her. She'll only know you, not us."

"Fine."

Steve and Tony talk a bit more about being prepared for when FRIDAY tracks down their target, and then everyone is being dismissed.

Wanda takes a moment, letting everyone get up and walk out first, when Clint walks up behind her chair. Placing a hand on her shoulder, he leans down some to say, "Y/N is not your only family, kid. We're your family too." Wanda's heart cracks just a little and she reaches up to cover Clint's hand with her own to let him know she understands. "Just keep that in mind in case we don't find Y/N or she's no longer who she used to be."

Wanda gulps and then nods. "I will."

Working for HYDRA has been absolute hell. Ever since you had been taken as a little girl you were hell-bent on getting out of there which meant doing anything and everything to be in their good graces. Obviously you didn't learn to do so until you were sixteen and had most of your emotions under control.

They experimented and tortured and even tried their mind wipes like they did on their beloved Winter Soldier, but surprisingly your mind was never empty like they hoped to be. Of course, though, you kept that little detail to yourself wipe after wipe. But after everything that went on while you were in their grasp and after whatever they turned you into, you realized you couldn't quite leave and turn yourself loose on the public while you had no control over what you could do.

So you stayed and obeyed like a good little soldier, and attempted to train their new little puppets. Only being left alone with Wanda and Pietro became the one thing you started looking forward to up until they told you the twins didn't survive one of the trials. You had been heartbroken and devastated, but you couldn't let them see. So you nodded, let them move you to another facility and began anew.

You lost yourself within HYDRA, honing your skills and becoming someone even the other soldiers started to become wary of. The mind wipes became less and less the more obedient you became, but then they had a new mission for you- a mission which made your loathing for them hit an all time high.

You've been sitting in solitary for weeks now, biding your time until you could break free and get the hell out of dodge. All morning you've been antsy and it only becomes worse when you can feel the tension mounting all around you.

The door opens and you immediately snap to attention, but the guard that comes in does not have a lunch tray in his hands. Instead, he has a uniform which he readily tosses at you. "Get dressed. You've got a mission."

You quietly snarl at the guard after catching your suit and his hand immediately goes to the electrical prod at his side. "Careful," you drawl. "You wouldn't want your superiors to find out you injured their most prized possession."

His right eye twitches and he lets his hand fall limp. "The clock's ticking on your life, bitch, and when it's up I'll happily put you down."

"We'll just see about that."

The guard turns around and stomps away so he's standing just outside your door, and you hurriedly strip to get dressed in the apparent new uniform. The material for the pants are thin and fit like a glove, but you've worn these before and you know they're impenetrable to blades. Your boots are standard issued, but the long sleeve shirt- the shirt gives you pause because of the padding that's been added to it.

Once you're dressed and your hair has been tied up, you march up behind the soldier and readily clasp your hands behind your back to await orders.

Emotionless mask in place, you're led out and about the base. Everyone seems to be in a tizzy and the smell of gunpowder and blood is thick in the air. You can hear the gunshots and shouting from behind closed doors several rooms away, and you're not surprised that that's exactly where you're led.

The General meets you outside one room in particular and he dismisses your guard with a wave of his hand. You bite your tongue to keep from smiling at the fact the guard grumbles at being dismissed so easily.

"Ah my dear Y/N," the General coos. "Come. We've got several mice trapped and we need you to rid us of them once and for all." You blankly blink at him, nodding once to let him know you understand your mission.

The second he turns around to enter the code for the room, your shoulders drop just a bit and you attempt to put yourself in the mindset of fighting once again. The door slides open and you follow like an obedient little soldier, only to stop short at the sight of the assembled heroes standing on the opposite end of the room. One in particular stands out, her scent hitting you like a freight train and you have to try your hardest not to show an inkling of knowledge about who she is.

You stand next to, but an inch or so behind, the General's left side with your hands still clasped behind your back and feet shoulder width apart as you stare straight ahead. You're trying your damnedest to focus on the red, white, and blue shield Captain America is holding out before him, and not show any recognition for Wanda who is desperately calling out to you in hopes of recognizing her.

You block out what the General is saying, no doubt gloating about your skills, and zone back in just as he gives what he thinks is a command you're programmed to obey. With your right foot planted, you take a step back with a left and flick your wrists out at your sides so claws unsheathe themselves. You can hear several heartbeats pick up speed and you finally meet Wanda's gaze. She seems to still as you offer her the faintest of grins and send her a wink, only to twist on your right foot a moment later and send your clawed left hand into the throat of the General.

The Avengers all tense and prepare for a battle as the General gurgles on his own blood, and you lean in close to his ear so you can say, "Your first mistake was taking me from my family when I was just a little girl." He tries to pull your hand from his throat, but he is no match for your strength. Growling, you squeeze your hand that's still embedded in his throat. "And your last mistake was reintroducing me to Wanda, and giving me hope." Just as the alarms start to blare, you rip the General's throat out and let his limp body fall.

"Y/N?"

You glance up, smirking at Wanda and her wide-eyed expression. "Hello, little Maximoff." You flick your hand free of some of the blood and then smile at her companions. "Avengers." You nod at them in greeting.

"You remember."

You blink at her, not bothering to answer the obvious. Instead, you can hear walkie talkies going haywire outside the room and you turn around to glance up at the windows where you know others are watching. You mockingly wave at them with your bloodied hand and start pacing in the middle of the room, putting Wanda and the Avengers at your back. Looking up at the window, you let your smirk drop into a scowl. "You think you can take me from my family, torture and brainwash me, and then sic me on the only other family I've ever known?" You yell, seething. Cracking your neck, you let your rage take over and feel the bones shift uncomfortably in your face. Even your eyes burn and you know they're flaring an electric blue. "You're fools for thinking you could control me."

You feel a soft pressure on your wrist and immediately turn to growl at the person who dares touch you, but you lower your head in shame when you see it's just Wanda. She softly gasps and you try to turn away. "What did they do to you?" She asks as she gently grasps you by the chin to make you face her once more.

"What they do best?" You mumble, sharp teeth catching on your bottom lip. "They turned me into a monster."

Wanda's voice catches in her throat, but before she can say anything you're facing the door and stepping in front of her to shield her. Seven soldiers rush in, electrical prods gripped tight in hand.

"Why don't they have any guns?" You hear one of the Avengers ask.

"They must want her alive," someone else answers.

"If you don't stand down, we're going to have to resort to drastic measures," one HYDRA agent says.

"Then resort to them," you growl, "because now that I know Wanda is alive you're gonna have to kill one of us just to separate us again."

Wanda steps up next to you then, hands slowly rotating at the wrists as red energy floats around them. "And trust me, I am not so easily killed."

You can sense the Avengers all stepping into line behind you, but you don't bother looking at them. Instead, you focus on the threat in front of you and the fact they have more people gathering outside once the first line falls. Then from one second to the next, there's a silent command that sends the HYDRA agents into fight mode.

You break off from Wanda, drawing a few agents towards you. Your fighting skills come into play and it's easy for you to either block or withstand the shock of the electrical prods. However, the agents are not so lucky since you're going in for the kill. If you're not kicking in knees and snapping necks, your claws and teeth are digging into throats and ripping out flesh. You're roaring and snarling, and scaring most of the agents you come into contact with, but there are a select few which are all too happy to disobey orders and engage you in physical combat.

You take quite a few hits to the face and sides, and for a moment you're worried, but you have to push through and worry later.

You're not sure how long the fight lasts, but all you know is hat the last agent you claw until he's gurgling on his own blood is the last one to go down. Panting and heaving, electric blue eyes scan the room. All the Avengers are still standing, most of them don't even look like they participated in the fight, but all are watching you with wary eyes.

Wanda steps in your direction and you growl, but then stop the moment her hands go up to show you she means no harm. "It's over," she tells you, her accent heavy and reminding you of so long ago when you first took her under your wing. "If you want to leave, you need to calm down. My team has no idea who you are and you being so hostile makes them nervous."

"Team?" The word rumbles through your throat as your gaze jumps from person to person. "But where's Pietro?"

When your gaze lands back on Wanda, she's smiling softly. But that smile soon wobbles as she shakes her head. "He died a while back. I'm sorry."

You shake your head as you take a step back and Wanda quickly closes the distance between the two of you. She wraps her arms around until you lower your head to her shoulder and you sniffle quietly. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay. He died a hero," she says. "We saw the error of our ways and the Avengers took us in." You finally allow yourself to wrap your arms around her, breathing her in and calming your rage. When you feel yourself sag against her, you finally pick up your head and smile as she runs a finger down the bridge of your nose. "There you are."

"M'sorry."

"For?"

"For you having to see me that way. I didn't even know you were alive and then they just told me to dress and take care of a mice problem they had. I didn't know it was the Avengers."

"It's okay," Wanda assures you. "You did the right thing."

"Um, I hate to break up this crazy reunion, but we need to go."

You glance at the man with wings and nod. "That would be a good idea. They'll send more soldiers soon."

Captain America glances at Wanda. "Get her to the quinjet. We're gonna do a sweep of the base before bringing it down."

Wanda gives him a nod and then she's urging you to follow her. You follow her through the winding hallways and an elevator ride up to the surface, and you huff a quiet laugh when you see the destruction left in the Avengers' wake. Off in the distance there's a jet and Wanda wastes no time in leading you up the ramp, and onto a seat.

"Just wait right here." She rushes towards a door and you're surprised a small bathroom sits behind it. She grabs what appears to be a hand towel from inside and then walks over behind the cockpit of the jet, grabbing a bottle of water from inside a bench seat. Then walking back over to you, she gestures to your face. "You've got a lot of blood."

"Oh." You take the towel and water, and quickly wet the towel to start wiping off your face and hands. There's nothing you can do for your clothes, so you leave them be.

As you wait for the others to return, you fidget in your seat and exhale softly as you catch Wanda's gaze. "What made you guys hit this specific base?" You wonder. "They're usually very careful about the comings and goings so they didn't attract the wrath of the Winter Soldier."

Wanda smiles and takes a seat across from you. "Bucky has been going on a world tour of tearing down HYDRA bases in his free time. We think HYDRA got tired of it and wanted to lure us into a trap, so they sent us a video of you."

You frown. "Why me? And what video?"

"They wanted me to rush in and not be at one hundred percent, hoping I'd make a mistake," she says. "Bucky and Natasha believe HYDRA saw us getting close, so they separated us and told us the other had died so we'd follow them faithfully. And when they sent that video, I was stunned. I wanted to rush in and bring you home, but the team made me take a beat." Having stood up halfway through her explanation, Wanda had retrieved a tablet and tapped away at it. Handing it to you, you find a paused video on screen.

Pressing play, you watch yourself be tortured and experimented on, and taught to kill. You wrinkle your nose at how young you were and how sickly you were at one point until they found a method that took and made you what you currently are. You're so caught up in the video that you aren't paying attention to your surroundings and are surprised to see the Avengers walking up the ramp.

"Done already?" Wanda asks.

"All we have to do is detonate once we're up in the air."

Wanda exhales in relief and you meet the gaze of several Avengers who don't know what to think of you after seeing you rip through the HYDRA soldiers like it was nothing. To break the ice, you say the first thing that pops into your mind. "So that was fun."

Iron Man snorts as he walks on by, heading straight for the cockpit. "Great. Another murder-happy supersoldier."

"Uhh, I'm not a supersoldier," you say. The rest of the team glances at you and you go on to explain. "On the video, you all saw the man bite me. Right?" There are various forms of acknowledgement. "Well that's what turned me into what I am. A bite."

"A bite from what?" Black Widow wonders.

You shrug. "The best I can come up with is a werewolf."

Hawkeye snorts, but at your no nonsense expression he sobers up. "Oh. Uh, those exist?"

"I'm assuming so," you say. "I get extra rage-y during a full moon, so I'll probably have to be chained up when the next one comes around." Wanda looks startled at your confession, but you flash her a small grin. "It's fine. I'm used to it by now."

Everyone takes a moment before either taking a seat or steadying themselves, and then there's lift off. The quinjet rises higher and higher until it hovers mid-air. Captain America walks towards the cock-pit and after giving the all-clear you can hear a distant boom and concrete caving inward.

"Well that's another base down," Captain America says.

Exhaling in relief, you allow your eyes to close and relish the feeling of being free. Your moment of peace, however, is short lived when you feel eyes on you. Opening them, Captain America and the Winter Soldier are sitting across from you now. Wanda has taken the seat next to you and you smile as she lays her head on your shoulder.

"I know you've been through a lot, but we have some things we'd like to discuss," the good Captain says.

You nod. "Ask away."

"They wiped you over and over," the Winter Soldier says matter of factly. "Why didn't it take?"

"I honestly have no idea," you admit. "The first time, it took. I didn't know who I was or where I was."

"How did you break out of it?"

"Something one of the doctors said triggered a memory from when I was younger and it just snowballed from there. I started remembering, but a few months after that I was wiped again. The second time didn't take quite so well, but I still forgot. I just knew there was something missing and slowly but surely it started coming back," you say. "But then after I was bitten, the mind wipes completely stopped working. It hurt like hell and I learned to fake it until I could find a way out of there."

"We didn't find much on you," the Winter Soldier says. "Their computers were already self-destructing, but we did manage to find a book where they wrote down your trigger words. You don't mind if we say them to make sure you're telling the truth?"

Wanda's head immediately snaps up, no doubt ready to tell them to back off, and you grin at her protectiveness. "It's fine." She then turns to look at you in shock and you wave her off. "Honestly, it's fine. They don't work. I should seriously win an Oscar for best actress."

Hawkeye and the Black Widow stand on either side of Captain America and the Winter Soldier, and he slowly reads the words aloud after opening the book. "Blue. Full moon. Bitten. Beta. Wolf. Red."

Everyone seems to hold their breath and the corner of your lips quirk into a grin. "Still doubting me?"

Captain America huffs. "That's unbelievable."

"You've fought aliens and Asgardian princes, Captain. My broken mind should be the least unbelievable thing."

"Steve. My name's Steve," he says. "And you're not broken." Your grin falters as you blink at him in surprise. "And this is Bucky." The Winter Soldier nods at you and you return the sentiment.

"Clint," Hawkeye says.

"Natasha."

"Sam."

"And I'm Tony Stark, but I'm sure you knew that."

"Uh, sure," you slowly muse. When he squawks and turns around his seat, you huff a small laugh. "Of course I know who you are. I know who you all are thanks to HYDRA and their obsession with you. I just wasn't privy to the fact that Wanda was part of the team until now."

They take your word for it and now that with the knowledge that the trigger words do nothing to you, it seems to bring some ease to the group and everyone finally settles in. According to Wanda the jet ride is going to take a bit so you might as well make yourself comfortable.

About twenty minutes into the ride, you shift uncomfortably in your seat. You chalk it up to the fact the seats aren't really that comfortable to begin with, but when you move to stretch your back a little you feel a pang just to the right side of your abdomen. The pain causes you to still and when it lingers you close your eyes to concentrate on your hearing. Unfortunately, the roar of the jet's engines prevents you from hearing anything.

You abruptly stand up which causes every gaze to snap to you, but you pay them no mind. You feel a cramp suddenly take hold on your lower abdomen and you bend at the waist, breathing through it.

"Y/N?" Wanda calls out.

"Something's wrong." With those two words, you feel the tension in the jet amp up. Your hand goes to your side, rubbing there and then following towards the cramp in your lower abdomen. "Something's really wrong."

"What's going on?" She asks.

You whirl around, eyes burning and you don't even care that they're flaring blue at your friend. "Your magic. Can you feel things with it? Or people. Anything?" You ask in a rush.

"I- I don't know what you-"

"Can you feel someone's conscious or whatever! I need- I just-"

"Okay. Okay," she slowly stands up. "I can. Now tell me what's wrong."

You immediately grab her right hand and set it against your abdomen. "Tell me if you can feel anything." Your eyes burn again, this time with unshed tears. "I can't listen for a heartbeat over the jet's engine."

As your words sink in, Wanda's eyes widen. "You're pregnant."

"Holy shit," you hear someone mutter behind you.

"It hurts." You finally allow the tears to fall. "It's not supposed to hurt."

"How- how far along?"

"Three and a half months. Please, Wanda, I can't-"

Without further prompting, Wanda's eyes glow red. You glance down and see her hand glow red as well, her magic then slowly encircling your abdomen. After what feels like an eternity, she slowly smiles. "There it is." Her gaze darts up to you and the red fades away. "I can feel him. Or her."

You choke back a sob, your hand flying to your mouth to muffle it. Wanda immediately embraces you and you sink into the comfort she's offering you. Then after a moment there's a hand on your shoulder that doesn't belong to Wanda and you lift your head up to see Sam.

"Hey girl, mind if I check you out? You fought awfully hard back at the base and given your condition I'd be more at ease if I knew everything was good."

Your brow furrows. "You're a doctor?"

"No, but I've got some training bandaging people up for the real docs. The most I can do for you right now is check for tender spots so I can report back to the doctor at the compound and insert an IV."

You look to Wanda for her opinion and she nods to let you know it's okay. Then looking back at Sam, you nod. "Okay."

Clint immediately pulls down a cot from where it was folded against the quinjet wall and Sam gestures for you to lay down. He instructs you to lift your shirt and you do so, lifting it until it's bunched beneath your bust. "Okay so I already see some bruising."

His fingertips touch the side of your abdomen and you automatically growl. He freezes and you wince. "Sorry. Instincts."

He chuckles. "It's okay. Given what you apparently are and the circumstances, that's to be expected. Am I good to proceed?"

"Yeah." You inhale shakily. "You're good."

Sam continues his brief examination, pressing here and there around your abdomen for any tender spots. You wince at one particular push and he quietly apologizes. When he's done, he leans back. "You're definitely gonna have to be checked out as soon as we get to the compound."

"Understood."

"But I'd like to get an IV started if that's okay. With you being pregnant and under HYDRA's care, I rather get some fluids in you that I know haven't been tampered with."

"Yeah. Yeah, that's fine."

You sit up and Wanda walks over to sit next to you on the cot, taking your hand between both of hers to offer you some semblance of comfort. Steve gets up to go speak with Tony and you ignore the quiet conversation they're obviously having about you. You can feel various stares on you, but you keep your gaze dead ahead and manage to keep from fidgeting or lashing out.

You don't know when, but you end up dozing off against Wanda. Then the next time you're conscious, you're being gently shaken awake and you watch as everyone starts to disembark the jet.

"We're home," Wanda murmurs. "Are you ready for this?"

"Yeah."

Slightly stretching, you're apprehensive about any sort of pain flaring but it never comes. You're thankful for it and then stand up to walk side-by-side with Wanda. Arm hooked through hers, you follow her off the jet and into the sleekest building you've ever laid eyes on. Sam is waiting for you, alongside a woman who smiles kindly at you. She introduces herself as Doctor Cho and you readily follow after her.

The labs make you apprehensive, but Wanda and Sam assure you everything is fine. Doctor Cho has you change into an unflattering medical gown and she talks through everything right before she does it so you're not caught off guard. All in all, being poked and prodded by this woman is a lot more pleasant than when HYDRA's doctors did it.

After a while, Doctor Cho comes back with a tablet in hand. You can see she wants to ask for privacy, but you immediately let her know that you're okay with Wanda and Sam hearing everything. Since you're staying wherever Wanda is, it's only fair the others know what's going on with you so there are no secrets.

Smiling, Doctor Cho glances at the tablet before looking up at you. "So everything seems to be completely normal," she says. Sam and Wanda exhale in relief. "Sam mentioned some bruising around your abdomen when he first walked in, but there is no sign of any bruising whatsoever. You and the baby seem one hundred percent healthy given everything you've through."

"I heal fast," you quietly admit. "I'm not sure why it took so long for me to feel the pain, but I panicked because of the baby and I wasn't thinking straight back on the jet."

"As an expecting mother, it's normal to panic. I had first hand experience with Mr. Stark's wife a few years back. Panicking is normal, but you just have to remember to breathe and take it one step at a time."

"Easier said than done," you mumble.

Doctor Cho chuckles. "Well for the next few weeks, I want you to take it easy. I'm not putting you on bed rest because of your accelerated healing, but I don't want you doing any strenuous activity."

"Don't worry," Wanda muses. "I'll make sure her butt is planted on the sofa at all times."

"Well okay then," Doctor Cho says. "I have some clothes for you if you want so you don't have to get back into that suit."

"I'd like that. Thank you."

"And if you're up for it, I'd like to see you again next week so we can make sure you and baby are still heading on the right track. I'll even order in some prenatal vitamins and a few others that you're lacking."

You nod. "Okay. That sounds good."

Reconnecting with Wanda had been easy. You were happy that she and Pietro got away from HYDRA when they did, even if Pietro didn't get to enjoy his freedom, and she was sad that you had been under HYDRA's thumb this entire time. But a little wine (for Wanda) and a lot of grape juice (for you), and the two of you were chatting like you hadn't missed any time at all.

After that, settling in at the Avengers' compound was a lot easier than you anticipated. Everyone, with the exception of Tony and Clint, lived just behind the compound in a new building that had been erected not too long ago and it was a lot more homely than you were expecting. You had moved in with Wanda for the meantime, keeping to her quarters so as to not step on any toes. But on the rare chance you decided to stretch your legs, you were surprised that the others would cordially start a conversation with you to see how you were doing.

Then after several visits with Doctor Cho where she continued to tell you that you and baby were doing extremely well, Wanda decided to have a family dinner in celebration.

"So who's all going to be here again?" You ask, already looking through the refrigerator.

"Just the usual," Wanda tells you. "I didn't want Clint and Tony to have to drag their families out here, but they do check in every now and then. They're happy you're settling in."

You snort, shutting the refrigerator door and standing straight. "Are you sure that's it and it's not because I haven't ravaged anyone to death?"

"Y/N.."

"I'm only joking." You grin. "Now can you please contact the others and tell them to hurry up? I'm starving!"

Grinning, Wanda takes her phone in hand and starts tapping away. She chuckles at something on her screen a few moments later, but before you can ask what's so funny you hear several individuals approaching. The aroma of the food hits you next and your mouth immediately starts watering. Steve, Bucky, Natasha, and Sam walk in- each and every one of them carrying various bags of takeout.

"Hey Y/N, think you got a little drool there," Sam says, gesturing to the corner of his mouth.

And without missing a beat, you say, "Not only am I a pregnant woman, Samuel, but I'm a pregnant wolf. I will eat you if you don't stop teasing me."

Sam gasps in offence as everyone else chuckles, and then they're setting the food down on the table to start unloading it as Wanda asks you to help her with utensils and drinks. But the second you turn back towards the table and see all the food laid out, you pause and take it all in. And then promptly burst into tears.

Everyone seems startled, but you're quick to get yourself under control. Sniffling and then wiping the tears away, you say, "I'm sorry. It's just that there's so much food!"

Steve is the first to chuckle. "You're crying because there's a lot of food?"

"Well yeah. You brought all this food and you're not expecting anything from me." Steve's smile instantly vanishes. "HYDRA would offer me nice things, but it always came at a price."

Sam whistles lowly. "Well that just took a turn for the depressing." A beat passes and then, "Come on, little momma. Come grab some grub."

Wanda smiles kindly at you and you finish making your way to the table. You end up with her at your side and Bucky across from you, and a table full of food laid out in front of you. Then the second Natasha reaches for pan fried dumplings, you reach for one of the largest burgers you've ever seen and a whole tray of fries. You groan at the first taste and proceed to finish it off in five more bites. You eat some fries and then stare at the remaining burgers with longing.

"Go ahead," Natasha tells you. "We have more than enough."

You sheepishly grin in her direction and grab another hamburger, devouring it without a care in the world.

But then when you eye the sushi and reach for it, you gasp when the chopsticks in Bucky's hand whack the back of your hand. "No. Raw fish is bad for pregnant women."

A growl unconsciously slips free and the whole table freezes. But then the situation you're in sinks in and you roll your eyes as you pull your hand back into your lap. "Then just say so, Barnes. Don't whack me. I'm not a damn dog." You're scowling at him, but then your words sink in when you see the corner of his lips twitch. "Oh shut up."

The whole table laughs and you shake your head, grinning as you then reach for a container of Chinese noodles that smell absolutely divine.

Later, stuffed full and laying across a sofa, the whole lot of you are relaxing as the TV plays some random TV show Sam had put on. A commercial comes on for pampers and you groan. "I am not looking forward to diaper duty."

Wanda chuckles, but it's Natasha who asks, "So you plan on keeping the baby?" You startle at the question, glancing over at her. "I mean everyone just kind of figured you wouldn't want to given the circumstances of when and where you became pregnant, so-"

"No, I get it," you tell her. "When HYDRA first told me the plan of birthing them a soldier, I kind of lost it. I pretty much went feral at the idea of forcefully having a baby." Gulping, you quickly sit up to explain all that went down. "They wanted to breed me," you sneer, "and they had to sedate me for their chosen soldier to just enter the same room." Immediately your nose tingles, everyone's anger wafting off of them in waves. "Unfortunately for them, they forgot to take into account that my metabolism burned through everything ten times faster than a normal human and I came to just as my pants were being unbuttoned. The guy barely had time to smirk before I ripped his throat out. With my teeth."

The men all stare at you in various stages of shock, but Wanda and Natasha both smirk. "Atta girl," the redheaded assassin muses.

"Killing their top candidate was a big upset, so they attempted to wipe me again," you say with a shrug. "But when the higher-ups got wind of an unscheduled wipe, they came down to see what that was all about. Needless to say, they were not impressed with their Doc's breeding tactics. Doc One took a bullet between the eyes and they brought in Doc Two who was a big fan of artificial insemination." Everyone winces. "Pregnancies one and two didn't stick, so they tried pregnancy three with a sample they had in the freezer. I don't know who the father is, but HYDRA was really ecstatic when month three came along and the two of us were still in good health."

"And you're okay with keeping this baby?" Wanda softly asks.

"I kind of have to be. This baby," you say while gently touching your abdomen, "is half me and half someone else who I'm pretty sure is enhanced. Even if I thought adoption was an option, I don't think I could live with myself knowing a piece of me was somewhere out there."

Everyone takes a moment after your story sinks in, thinking about all that you've been while in HYDRA's control. Afterwards, Steve clears his throat. "So before anyone goes overboard with baby stuff, we're gonna have to put you in your own apartment." He smiles when he notices he catches you off guard with that. "No need to overflow Wanda's apartment with baby things when we have plenty of room to spread out still."

"A-Are you sure?" You ask. "I was ready to start looking elsewhere for a place to live, but-"

"No. HYDRA will be on the lookout for you and that baby," Wanda says. "You're staying here where they won't dare to infiltrate."

You glance at each present Avenger, taking in their pleasant expressions and sniffing them out for any hints of deceit. Finding none, you allow yourself to relax and grin. "Okay then. We'll stay here."

Cohabitating with the Avengers is nothing like you expected. Everyone's guard is down while at home and everyone likes spending time together in the communal spaces when there's not a mission for them to be worrying about. Sam especially gets a kick out of seeing how your appetite holds up against the two supersoldiers and he's impressed that you can eat the same amount or sometimes more.

And when the full moon is less than a week away, it's not just you who's worried about it.

Tony flies in when they notice you're quick to anger and they quickly clean out the hulk proof room that hasn't been used in quite some time. Steve and Wanda take charge, asking what would make you most comfortable, and you admit that anything with your scent on it will do. But what catches everyone off guard is that you sheepishly request something with their scent on it as well and you have to embarrassingly admit that it's a werewolf thing. With you spending so much time with them, you've kind of latched on and your wolf considers them yours.

Everyone is game to get you whatever you need and within half an hour they've got your bed set up in the room, and blankets and pillows from those you'd been living with these past couple of weeks. Everyone takes care to not annoy you the couple days leading up to the full moon, and then you're encouraged to go ahead and settle in the room the day you snarl at Tony for making a puppy joke.

Wanda sits in an armchair in the room as you sit against your headboard, talking about anything and everything as you practice some of Bruce's meditation tips. The door to the room is open for now, and every now and then you can hear someone pass by to quietly check in.

No one needs to tell you when the moon's reached its apex because you can feel the change within you. Your breathing becomes a little heavier and your fidgeting is no doubt more apparent. Sweat starts to bead along your hairline and you curl your fingers inward so as to not shred any of your bedding when you feel your claws suddenly elongate.

"Y/N..?"

"Wanda." You inhale deeply and slowly release it. "I think it's time you go."

You hear the armchair creak under Wanda's weight. "What? I can-"

"Go." You exhale deeply once more, slowly glancing up and eyes burning blue. "You need to go."

A growl slips free and then Steve's immediately in the doorway. "Wanda, come on."

Your gaze stays glued to Wanda as she cautiously stands and she smartly walks backwards to the door rather than giving you her back. And the second the door slides shut, you're leaping out of bed and pacing the entirety of the room. Your agitation ends up getting the best of you and you end up ripping your shirt off, thankful that you had been talked into wearing a sports bra underneath.

The walls are opaque, but the second a voice comes over an intercom you're whirling around to glare at the exact spot where everyone is congregated around screens and keeping watch over you. "Y/N, you need to calm down. Your heartbeat is way too fast."

You snarl and a fist flies towards the wall. There's a loud thump, but they put you in a hulk-proof room for a reason. No matter how much strength you have, you won't make a single crack in the glass.

As you pace all around the room, you growl and roar out your agitation.

Fortunately for you, you have a fair amount of control and you never resort to harming yourself. You do, however, tire of pacing and your bed looks all too welcoming. So once you deem it safe enough to let your guard down, you crawl into bed and surround yourself with the various pillows and blankets of your pack.

The following morning when you wake up, Doctor Cho whisks you away for an evaluation to make sure the full moon didn't affect the baby. And once you're given the all clear, Wanda and Sam lure you into the kitchen with a promise of a hearty breakfast.

You're more tired than usual, but you manage to perch on one of the bar stools at the kitchen island, setting your elbow on the island top and setting your chin in the palm of your hand. Wanda starts to slice up some avocados when you notice there's an itch under your skin that's telling you you need to do something, but you aren't sure what. The feeling amps up as the time ticks on by, but before you can get up and start pacing in agitation there's an arm draping around your shoulders.

The familiar scent of Steve overwhelms you and you feel yourself automatically lean towards him. He chuckles. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I wanna snuggle the hell out of you," you mumble. Leaning away from him, you turn on your stool and part your knees, pulling Steve as close to you as possible. "Seriously, just hug me. I need to scent everyone again."

Sam snorts from his spot at the stove and Steve happily obliges you. Your arms wrap around his waist and you lay the side of your face against Steve's chest, a happy rumble slipping free as Steve embraces you back. "I don't know why you're laughing, Wilson. I'm cuddling all of you."

After about five minutes, you let Steve go and you readily drag Wanda into his vacant spot. She laughs, but hugs you back the moment your arms go around her. You shove your face into the side of her neck and you can't resist rubbing your cheek along her shoulders.

Sam ends up getting the same exact treatment right before breakfast is served up and since Natasha isn't really a hugger, she does sit next to you and allows you to at least drape one of your legs over hers underneath the table.

Afterwards, instead of heading back towards the apartment you share with Wanda, you eye Bucky who's sitting on the couch with a book in his right hand. And though he's been perfectly cordial with you since you've been brought in, you knew better than to just approach him out of the blue like you can with Wanda, Sam, and Steve.

Steve chuckles as he sees your hesitance, but he offers you no help in broaching the cuddling topic with his best friend. However, just as you enter Bucky's peripheral, he readily lifts his left arm that had been resting on the armrest. You sigh in relief and crawl in Bucky's lap, sitting sideways and laying your head on his shoulder. His metal arm curls around your back and his hand which he's holding the book settles down atop your knees.

You soak in Bucky's warmth and scent, and before you know it your eyelids get heavier and heavier.

The click of a phone's camera sounds and Bucky glances up to see Wanda pointing her phone at him. "What?" She feigns innocence. "It's adorable."

"She's exhausted," he says. "I'd fall asleep anywhere too if I had to go through what she did."

"I can take her if you want," Wanda says. "Float her on back to our apartment."

"No. It's fine," he's quick to assure her. "I wasn't planning on moving anytime soon anyway."

Wanda nods, hiding her grin as she walks towards the elevator where Steve and Sam are already waiting. Getting in, all three individuals smirk at Bucky cradling a sleeping pregnant werewolf in his lap.

"If she names that pup after Barnes, I'm throwing hands," Sam says.

Wanda laughs. "I don't think she's thinking about naming her child after a man she's only known for a couple of weeks, Sam."

"Well some would think that one would not sleep in the lap of someone they've only known for a couple of weeks, but here we are," Steve then says. "Unless it's a werewolf thing."

Wanda, Steve, and Sam take a moment to think about it before Sam says, "I got twenty that says those two end up hooking up before the baby bump makes itself known."

"What? No way." Wanda shakes her head. "I have twenty that says she's just extra cuddly because she's hormonal and just came down from the full moon."

"Guys," Steve admonishes them. A moment later, he grins. "Twenty says a real attraction grows and those two end up together."

"You're on, Rogers."

Author's Note: So you guys wanna give me baby name suggestions? And gender suggestions?

[ca-8]

Yakko x Reader Scenario: When You First Meet

'This is it. The beginning of the end.' 

Gripping on the straps of her backpack, (Y/n) exited the bus and stared up at the water tower that displayed the famous Warner Bros. logo. As expected, it emitted a smug aura onto the entire area; however, surprisingly, there was a slight twinge of mystery to it as well. But she didn't have time to ponder about it, so she only gave it an uneasy look and headed straight for the entrance.

Her heart stopped. She knew the place was going to be busy, but it was like an entire New York City packed in one section! So many writers, producers, actors, large men carrying heavy sets, every type of person working in film was scattered all over the place. It was like an ocean, with the people as marine life doing what they're designed to do, and (Y/n) being the puppy that was abandoned at sea.

The moment it all settled in, an involuntary realization invaded her thoughts. 'I don't belong here.'

The young girl reminded herself to breathe and rushed over to a vacant wall, then pulled out her phone. She had already sent her mother about a thousand messages telling her she was here, but since she hasn't responded, a few more shouldn't hurt. Fingers rapidly typing away, she bit her lower lip, already wishing she had stayed on that bus. 

"Oh, you're just gonna love it!" Her mother's squealing voice had already filled her skull. "You're so talented, I know you're gonna fit right in."

'Yeah, standing around all day with a bunch of people I don't know while doing something I suck at is exactly how I wanna spend my summer.' She let out a soft sigh. 'It's fine. Just shut up and make her happy, (Y/n).'

Several attempts of calling and texting later, no response. (Y/n) sighed again, and her eyes wandered over to the bustling crowd. 'No way. Absolutely no way.' But if she wanted to get the day over with, absolutely yes way.

First, she walked up to a lady looking down at the clipboard in her hands. "Um, excuse me," (Y/n) said. 

The lady's head snatched up. "KYLE!" she yelled, her eyes now ablaze with fury, "YOU IDIOT! THAT GOES IN THE WAREHOUSE ACROSS THE STUDIO!" And like there was nothing but a breeze behind her, the lady stomped off to the poor soul that had to face her wrath.

The breeze took a step back and ran around the corner. 'Maybe I'll find someone else instead…!' (Y/n) stopped and spotted a man sitting on the steps that lead to the entrance of a small building. She swallowed whatever was left in her mouth and reluctantly approached him. 

"E-Excuse me, sir?" she stuttered, hoping her voice was louder than the last time. As she got closer, (Y/n) noticed he was chuckling, and his gaze was glued onto a small piece of paper. 

"I...I did it…!" he said. She yelped and shrinked back when he suddenly jumped to his feet. "I FINALLY DID IT! WE'LL SEE WHO'S REGRETTING THE DIVORCE NOW, MARGARET!" And with a manic laugh, the man dashed into the building. 

'...Or maybe I'll just find it myself.'

It wasn't too long before (Y/n) got herself lost. Despite the help of maps that were stuck to some of the buildings, all of them seemed exactly the same. It was like a maze, and with each passing minute, she was more and more convinced that there was no finish line. Even worse, her mother was too busy to respond to anything she sent her. 

'Oh, what should I do?' (Y/n) thought for the thousandth time. No matter how hard she pinched or held them, her arms refused to stop trembling. Not too long ago, the outside of the studio became deserted and she'd hate to walk in a warehouse and possibly interrupt something important, so asking for help again was out of the question.

...Or, perhaps it wasn't. 

A tiny, hopeful smile crossed (Y/n)'s face when she heard the sounds of frustrated grunts around the corner. It was the first time she was so relieved to see a stranger. 

And thank god that stranger was a security guard. Though she wondered why he had a giant net in his hand, she shoved the curiosity as far in the back of her mind as she could and reached up to gently tap his shoulder. 

"Um, excuse me sir?" she asked as loud as she could. 

His head whipped around, revealing angry eyes and a scowl that said he was ready to kill. But right as his gaze landed on her, it changed within an instant. 

"Oh, hello!" he said with a bright smile. 

(Y/n) blinked, cocking her head. ‘What was this guy up to?’

"I'm sorry to bother you, but do you know where (M/n) (L/n) is filming? I'm her daughter, (Y/n), and I'm trying to look for her. She's not answering her phone either."

His joyful expression slowly melted into a confused one. "Uuhhh…(M/n) (L/n)?”

“Yes. She’s a part of Animal Kingdom? Do you know where that’s being filmed?”

“Oh! I know there’s a zoo around here called Animal Kingdom! I don’t think you’ll find it in a film studio, though.”

(Y/n) frowned. “...No, I mean the show. Aren’t they filming in a warehouse today? Do you know where that is?”

“Who’s ‘they’?”

Her eye twitched, and she was just about ready to drown the entire studio in the nearest ocean. “N-Nevermind, I’ll just-”

As if the universe wasn’t satisfied with tormenting her enough, the security guard suddenly launched up into the air and flew into the sky. Right before her eyes, the heavens were coated with explosives of every color that ever existed. 

“Oh my god!” (Y/n) yelled. ‘Who strapped fireworks on that guy?!’

“Oh, I knew you’d love it!”

Her eyes were ripped from the loud fireworks show as she was immediately smothered in a hug. “It’s so nice that another girl’s here! All the other ones here are either too busy or just keep shouting about a restraining order for some reason. I dunno, but anyway, I just know you're gonna love it here! Anyway, my name’s Princess Angelina Louisa Cantessa Francesca Banana Fanna Bo Besca the third! But since we're friends now, you can just call me Dot.”

This confirmed it. This was a trap set up by her mother to deliberately drive her insane, because how else can someone explain the nut jobs and talking dogs in pink dresses? 

A combination of those two things happened to be clutching her head and digging her face into hers. “...Huh?” (Y/n) mumbled.

‘Dot’ jumped off of her and smiled widely. “Sorry about Ralph by the way. I figured out you were coming at the last second and I really needed someone for your welcoming gift.” she said.

(Y/n) glanced up at the sky where the fireworks were slowly dying down. “Um...Is he gonna be okay?” she asked.  

“Of course he will!” her backpack said.

The teen screamed and threw her bag on the ground. A hand popped out and unzipped it with impossible ease, then a taller boy version of Dot jumped out, pulling up his long brown pants and flashing a grin. 

“H-...H-H-How did you…?!” (Y/n) stuttered, pointing at him. 

“What? Never heard of cartoon logic?” he said, approaching her. “And Ralph’ll be fine. His skull’s so thick, concrete’s the last thing that can kill him.”

“What-?”

“Anyhow,” he walked over to Dot and put an arm over her shoulder, “The name’s Yakko, this here’s my beloved baby sister Dot, and this is-” He stopped, staring at the empty space to his left. He leaned into Dot, whispering, “Say, uh, you don't mind looking for Wakko, do ya sis?”

Dot glanced at (Y/n) for an uncomfortable moment and suddenly shot her brother a glare. "I've got eyes all over this studio, Yakko," she warned, slowly stepping away.

Now (Y/n) certainly knew she didn't see pairs of eyes appear around every inch of her sight. 'Oh god, I didn't breath in drugs on the way here, did I? Actually, that would explain whatever the heck's going on.'

Yakko smiled as he watched his sister leave and turned to (Y/n). He walked closer to her, and she realized that his half-lidded eyes had a strange glint in them. “Sooo, your name’s (Y/n), right? A pretty name for a pretty girl.”

(Y/n)’s face heated up. ‘First I get lost, then see a guy get blown up, and now some other guy’s flirting with me? ...To be honest, this is still better than what Mom had planned for today.’

“So what brings ya’ here?” he asked.

“O-Oh, well, my Mom was supposed to give me a tour of the studio, but I’ve been giving that to myself all day. I tried finding her, but I’m pretty sure I’m nowhere near it by now.” Her eyes wandered over to the ground, but a realization made them perk back up and over to Yakko. “Hey, do you happen to know this place by any chance?”

“Know it? Please, my sibs and I live here, we know this place by heart and soul!” He mumbled something else, along the lines of “Basically made our hearts and souls”. 

Her heart jumped; finally, a piece of good news. “Really?” she said, a smile spreading across her face.

He nodded. “So where do ya’ need to go?” Before she could answer, he pulled out a piece of folded paper and moved in so close, their shoulders were smooshed together. Yakko unfolded it, and it turned out to be the biggest map (Y/n) has ever seen. “Well, from here, you’re gonna need to take a right and continue straight until you get to the Harry Potter and Fantastic Beasts exhibit. But be careful, I heard some of them escaped, and if anyone asks if you’ve seen any of them, don’t tell them I gave one to Dot as a late birthday gift. Anyway, you take a left from there, then a right where you’ll see the lot where they used to shoot Game of Thrones. Now this is only a rumour I’ve heard, but I think some of the producers are still on that set. If you happen to see them, do not, I repeat, DO NOT mention season eight, or maybe just don’t mention the show at all. Actually, don’t even look at them. As a matter of fact, you probably shouldn’t even go there at all, just keep heading straight until you get to the D.C. Universe lot. Then you just take left there, then a sharp right over over, then you keep going straight until you get to here, turn up over there, turn right there, and then you’re there. Did ya’ follow all that?”

(Y/n) stared at his face, which was practically radiating with enthusiasm, and she felt her eye twitch again. “...No,” she said, shaking her head.

His smile dimmed, but it became just as bright as the sun again a split-second later. “Ah well, maps are gettin' old anyways,” he said, throwing the map over his shoulder. “WAKKO!!”

And, low and behold, another anthropomorphic dog popped out of nowhere, and (Y/n) was starting to question if there was an army of them hidden somewhere. But she had to admit, it was pretty cute how this one was dressed in an oversized blue sweater and red hat. 

“Tablet, please,” Yakko said politely, holding out his hand. 

‘You're not gonna walk me there-?'

Wakko suddenly held his head back with his cheeks puffed out, then leaned into Yakko’s hand as he forced out a small object from his mouth. After an incredibly uneasy moment, a tablet glazed in spit was in Yakko's grasp. While he praised the little guy, (Y/n) forced back the urge to vomit.

“E-Ehhhh…?” She couldn’t say anything else while her gaze frantically went back and forth from Wakko and the regurgitated tablet. 

“Oh! Where are my manners?” Yakko said. “(Y/n), this is my dear little brother, Wakko. Wakko, this here’s our new special friend, (Y/n).” 

“Hello!” Wakko greeted, who was suddenly in her arms. “You’re really pretty!”

“Ehh? Thank you? I guess??” she said apprehensively, and finally managed to make eye contact. Despite his...quirks, he's actually a little adorable... She let herself grin a little.

The moment of semi-peace was ruined when she took notice of Yakko’s narrowed eyes. “ALrighty, (Y/n)!” he said loudly, grabbing his little brother by the collar and gently setting him on the ground. “Animal Kingdom, right? Let’s get ya’ right over there.” He moved right beside her and taped the screen a couple times. 

“Um, what’re you doing exactly?” she asked.

“Doing what every person does to get somewhere nowadays.” He grabbed her waist and pulled her against him, and (Y/n) flinched from his touch. “Please keep your arms, legs, and personal items inside the tablet at all times.”

Just when she was about to question him for the hundredth time, he pressed the screen again, and her vision became nothing but white. Her body felt like it was launched into a tornado; a strong force of wind thrusted her back, and somehow, the boy’s arm kept her from flying off from his side. A second later, her feet were back on the ground, the sky was where it needed to be, and reality was back in place. 

Except for (Y/n)’s mentality. 

She stumbled around, trying to find her balance as the world unbearably whirled around her. Finally, she shook her head, and quickly turned back towards Yakko, whose face tried to tell her whatever happened was perfectly fine and normal. 

“What was THAT?” she yelled, staggering towards him and gripping his shoulders.

And he still had the audacity to have that 'why-are-you-freaking-out-so-much-we-do-this-every-Friday' smile. “Thank you for attending Warner’s Travel Tours! I would say my Agent Ralph’ll take your bags, but I left him alone with my sibs, so he’s probably in the middle of the Pacific Ocean by now.”

(Y/n) could only stare at him. Her mind was twisting and turning, trying so hard to make any sense of what happened but only making her headache grow larger and larger. And then, her thoughts just went blank.

She smirked. Then giggled. And a few seconds later, she had burst out laughing whilst holding her stomach. (Y/n) looked back up at Yakko, wiping a tear from her eye. “Th-Thank you…” she said, catching her breath. 

His smile had grown and she thought his white cheeks were red for a moment. Yakko had opened his mouth, but whatever he was about to say was cut off by a net suddenly covering his entire body. Ralph was behind him, his skin and clothes burnt and ears practically smoking. “You’re coming with me, Warner!” he said.

And yet, Yakko only grinned. Like physics was his enemy, he disappeared from inside the net and appeared sprouting from the security guard’s back, cheerfully waving at (Y/n). “I’ll see ya’ around, yeah?” he said, then ran around the corner with Ralph sprinting right after him.

(Y/n) giggled and reached for the straps around her back. But when she only felt the (f/c) fabric of her shirt, her smile dropped, and a deep sigh escaped her lips. “Great…” she whispered.

“(Y/N)!” 

She gasped as a pair of arms squeezed the life out of her. Her mother spun her around to face her gleaming smile, which was immediately replaced by an apologetic frown. “I’m so sorry I didn’t get your texts! That scene took forever, but I’m glad you found your way here! You’re so smart! Anyway, I know we don’t get as much time now, but there’s still so much we’ll be able to see!...”

She rambled on and on and on and on. Her daughter’s shoulders slumped and she followed her to where she wanted her to go, but the frown on her face didn’t last long when she remembered the fun she had just a few seconds ago. ‘Maybe this summer won’t be that bad.’

[xxwritemeastoryxx]

One Too Many Times

Author: xxwritemeastoryxx

Pairings: Former Damon Salvatore x Reader

Word Count: 2.6K (I COULDN”T KEEP IT UNDER AND IM NOT SORRY! Plus Heather said I have no rules so....)

Warnings: Angsty arguments, heart break, but that’s about it in this one. 

Author’s Note: Heres the second post for today! I hope you guys enjoy. This is for @idkhaylijah ‘s 3k Follower Celebration. Again I was waiting until the last minute to get this one done, but I figured lets use this to help kick off May Madness. I had selected Exile by Taylor swift along with the prompt: “How much of that did you hear?” Of course the prompt is in bold and the lyrics are italicized. Enjoy!

Feedback gives me life and motivation for future things. ♥

Even though Damon had every reason to be there, it didn’t mean he wanted to be there. He didn’t want to have to deal with the people that he was going to have to see. He didn’t want to deal with the fact that he’d go to this party and he’d see her there. It wasn’t the fact that she’d be there that turned him off from going. It was the fact that she wasn’t going to be there on her own that made a twinge of pain and even jealousy pull at his heart. 

He knew how the night was going to play out. He was going to have to watch the woman he loved with someone else. He’d have to watch as she looked at another man with the stars in her eyes just as she had once done with him. The laughter that would be pulled from her lips wouldn’t be because of the things Damon had said. He wouldn’t be the one to cause the heat to build in her cheeks at the things he would whisper in her ear. 

The thoughts themselves had made him angry. He hadn’t even seen them yet and his blood was already bubbling away. And that itself was a warning that he should have stayed away. But Damon knew better. He knew he needed to be there. He needed to be there to mingle in with the party goers before they all put their well thought out plan into action. A plan to take down a witch who believed to be holding all the cards in his favor. That didn’t mean Damon had to enjoy it. 

I can see you standin', honey

With his arms around your body

Laughin' but the joke's not funny at all

Damon had found himself a spot in the back of the room that gave him a view of the whole room. His eyes scanning over the crowd of people every few minutes. Across the room, Stefan had found another spot, doing the same thing. Both of them keep their eyes out for anything that might ruin their plans. They were only a few hours into the night and so far there had been nothing that told them things were going to take a turn. It was as Damon brought his glass of bourbon up to his lips that his eyes landed on Y/N for the first time tonight. 

She looked stunning as she walked through the crowd and made her way towards the bar. His eyes were on her and her alone that he hadn’t even registered the man that was close behind her. At least that was until she came to a stop and his hand came to rest on the small of her back. 

He watched as she turned towards him, a smile on her face as they began speaking as if nothing was going on around them. That there was no lurking danger that would be thrown upon them. Y/N didn’t even know the plan that the Salvatores and the others had put together. She wanted out. She wanted to be as far away from the supernatural world as possible. 

That is where Y/N and Damon butted heads the most. She no longer wanted to be entangled in the world she had found herself with her friends and the Salvatores. For as many times as she had been almost killed in the process of saving Elena, she couldn’t handle it any more. 

She loved Damon. It was proven several times where she went out of her way just to prove that she was there for him and needed him to know that. It wasn’t until things started to change that Y/N couldn’t take it anymore. She tried getting Damon to understand, but it seemed pointless. 

When Y/N said she was done with it all, Damon tried to fight to keep her there. He wanted her to stay but it had already been too late. While she still wanted the memories of everything, including the training she learned over the years, she just didn’t want to be a part of it any more. She wanted to be left alone without the fear that her association with the group would get her killed. And she left. 

There was nothing Damon could say or do to change her mind. He watched her from afar and always kept anything from happening to her. But this he couldn’t control, as much as he wanted to. She had been with the man beside her for a little over a month and Damon never bothered to remember his name. Even when he ‘bumped’ into them while out in the town, Y/N had introduced him and he didn’t care to listen. 

Just as he feared, Damon watched as Y/N’s head tossed back as she laughed. The laughter that filled the air had made him turn his head away for a moment. The amber liquid in his glass no longer appealing to him as he set it down beside him on the side table. He’d never understand how she had changed her mind so quickly. 

His jaw clenched as she looked up at them once more. He could see the way he was leaning into her as he spoke, the way a soft smile pulled at her lips at them. There was a voice inside of him that knew he should walk right over to them and easily pull his heart out. But he knew better. Having Y/N as a distant friend was better than nothing. And if he killed her date, he’d lose her completely. 

I can see you starin', honey

Like he's just your understudy

Like you'd get your knuckles bloody for me

From the moment that Y/N had entered the house, Elena had stopped right in front of her. The woman’s brown eyes worried for Y/N before she pulled her over to the side. Y/n looked back over her shoulder at her date, giving a quick apology.  

“What is it?” Y/N asked the moment they were alone. 

“You should know what’s going on if you are going to be here.” Elena offered. Elena knew Y/N for so long that she was happy that the woman wanted nothing more to do with vampires. But even then Elena wanted her safe. 

“No.” Y/N said shaking her head quickly. “I don’t want or need to know. Ignorance is bliss and I’d like to keep it that way.”

“Y/N-” Elena began before Y/N stopped her. 

“I don’t want to know.” Y/N shook her head. “There could be a target on my back and still wouldn’t want to know.”

Elena nodded her head a moment later. That allowed Y/N to go back to her date without another word on the subject. 

“I need a drink.” She said before making a beeline for the bar. Liam’s chuckle came from behind her before he began following her over. 

“What was that all about?” He asked as he placed his hand on the small of her back as he came to a stop beside her at the bar. 

“The usual girl talk.” She lied before she ordered a drink. Liam definitely needed to be dragged into things. Especially if she herself was trying to get out of it herself. 

Y/N felt that as long as they didn’t stick around for long, they’d be okay. That the two of them would leave the moment she felt that things might change. She could easily put it as if she was ready to leave the place. Anything to keep herself out of it and not a part of it at the same time. 

“While I may not know what girl talk entails, but there was that very obvious feeling that something was wrong.” Liam said as he removed his hand from her back and grabbed the drink that had been placed in front of him. “Your friends seem to care.”

She laughed. It wasn’t an authentic laugh as she looked over at him. “They do care. But sometimes friends grow apart and when that happens, it mostly feels like strangers.”

“And what of your ex?” He asked with a slight raise of his brow. “Because by the looks of things, he’s looked this way a few times.”

It was then that Y/N had looked around at her surroundings. She followed Liam’s line of sight that led straight to Damon. There was a moment where their eyes met briefly before he turned to look away.  She bit on the inside of her cheek as she took in the way he looked before he had. 

She hadn’t missed the way his jaw ticked. Or the way that his eyes had darkened as he looked at the two of them from across the room. She knew his eyes well enough to know when there was guilt and anger swarming within them. It was the way his fist had clenched at his sides as he turned his attention away from her. Yet, no matter how much she had believed what she was doing was the best, there was that part of her that still loved the vampire. 

But she knew that this was what she wanted. This was how she was going to survive.This was how she was going to live a long enough life without the fear of someone coming after her. 

Second, third, and hundredth chances

Balancin' on breaking branches

Those eyes add insult to injury

It was as Y/N had excused herself some time later that Damon managed to pull her to the side. The annoyed look on Y/N’s face had told Damon that she wasn’t looking forward to hearing anything that he had to say. But he needed to try something, anything to ensure that Y/N was safe. 

“You shouldn’t be here.” He said the moment they were alone. 

She laughed and shook her head. “Not be at the party that I’ve been invited to?”

“Elena told me she tried explaining things to you and you didn’t listen.” His voice was calm, but Y/N could easily begin to pick up the slight tones of anger within them. 

“You guys don’t get to tell me how I can live my life.” Her eyes met his. “We’ve done this, Damon. Time and time again. I would listen to what you and Stefan had to say about things and I still got hurt in the process.”

She wasn’t wrong and Damon knew that. For as many times as they had faced enemies with in the town, Y/N was end up in the crossfire. May it have been from attempting to keep Elena safe or even Damon. She hated that no matter how many times they believed they had won and could leave peacefully, it would never last. 

“You still need to be somewhere else before things go down. Go to his place or wherever it is that you feel like going, but just don’t be here.” It was the way that his eyes softened at his words that made a familiar feeling stir within Y/N’s chest. 

This was how he pulled her in. One moment she could be pissed at him for his actions and all he had to do was give her the look he was now and she’d begin to comply. Compulsion was never necessary with her. Not when she cared enough. 

Her head shook again. “The point of me doing this is to make sure that I am living the life that I want. Not going by things that you need or Elena needs. This is about me now. “

I think I've seen this film before

“You think you aren’t doing things.” Damon began. “But who do you think has been helping out to keep you safe? Who’s been the one to ensure you haven’t ended up dead twice since you decided to leave.”

“I never asked you to!” Her voice raised slightly as she shook her head. “If I am supposed to die, then let it happen. I needed to feel like my human self. I needed the space to be able to breathe again. I couldn’t do that any more. Why are you being so difficult about letting me go?”

Damon ran his hand along his face. “So I’m supposed to live with the fact that you would willingly die even if you were given a warning?”

“Yes.” She said as she crossed her arms over her chest. “You will live with it. Because I’m not changing my mind on this.”

“I can’t let you do that.” He hated the words but they were already out there. 

She chuckled. “Do you even hear yourself? This is the exact conversation that we’ve had plenty of times before. I can’t continue to do this when you only listen to what you want.”

“You know I listen-”

“Stop.” she cut him off. “You didn’t. I said and showed every reason why I no longer wanted to do this. Before the Mikaelsons, after the Travelers, I wanted an out. I wanted to feel like my life wasn’t in someone’s control. And yet at every turn when I felt that I should go and I would tell you, you gave me some kind of reason to stay and do it all over again.”

Damon tried to piece the things she was talking about together. Hazy memories would come to mind of their fights. And in the mix of them yelling at each other, there were the moments where Y/N had told Damon she was leaving. Each time he somehow convinced her to stay. But the hurt that was in her eyes remained until finally one day she left without telling anyone. 

He took a step towards her and she raised her hand up to stop him. He opened his mouth to say something, anything. They looked into each other’s eyes for a moment. A silent conversation between them. One that was familiar. One that was comfortable. At least that was until Y/N turned and looked away, tears beginning to fill her eyes as she took a step back.

“I still love you Damon.” She said after a moment before looking back at him. “But I can’t. I can’t keep this life.” That was the last thing she said before walking away from him. 

Damon stood there for a few moments after she walked away. His hand ran down his face once more. When he turned to leave, he stopped in his tracks at who was standing at the door. Caroline had her hands behind her back, a guilty look on her face. 

“How much of that did you hear?” He asked, slightly annoyed. 

“Most of us heard it from the party.” She said with a slight shrug. “Those of us that were vampires, at least. A particular human though, heard the end of it. Elena is compelling him so that when he gets back to Y/N, he won't remember the argument you two had.”

“Should have just let him go.” Damon said no longer looking at the blonde. 

Caroline sighed. “Believe it or not, she’s happier without us interfering in her life. If you care about her at all, you should let her go.”

Damon’s head snapped back towards her. There was disbelief on his face. Everyone else had simply agreed to let her go. After years of them being in her life, they were willing to throw it all away. 

Damon didn’t think it was possible to do it. And after numerous times of getting her to stay, this time he couldn’t do it. Damon knew that he had lost Y/N. 

And I didn't like the ending

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[vostokovasmelina]

— 𝐀𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝟑𝐂. (𝐬.𝐰.)

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐢  |  𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐢  |  𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

characters: fem!reader; sam wilson; archibald the tabby cat; sarah wilson (mentioned)

word count: 2.1k+

warning: none (no tfatws spoilers yet)

series summary: after the blip, sam wilson gets home to an unpleasant surprise - his key doesn’t fit the lock anymore and his apartment is now inhabited by a stranger and a grumpy feline. however, the unusual encounter is only just the beginning of their post-blip lives and the reader soon learns that what life takes away, it can give back in the most particular ways.

a/n: if this flops, i’m quitting.

Sam was tired. Truly, utterly tired. It felt like he hadn’t felt anything but fatigue for the last few days, the kind that seeps deep into your bones and cozies up in your marrow, the kind that never seems to leave. Like, ever again.

He knew he was probably supposed to call Sarah and tell her he was on his way. They had only talked once since he came back, right before Tony’s funeral, and even that was a rather brief telephone call. His sister had told him there was something he needed to know but Sam had said they would talk once he got to hers. First, he needed some rest. A short nap would do, really. And a cup of strong black coffee. Or maybe two.

He parked his car where he always had; the space furthest to the left, right under his favorite maple tree that looked so pretty in the autumn and kept the inside of Sam’s car relatively cool in the summer. He watched for a while as the light spring breeze played with the fresh green mane of this majestic old lady, and felt a soft wave of calm rush through every tiny particle of him. He was home. The battle was over and he was on his way to his family. He wouldn’t take that nap. He’d just get his stuff out of his car and put Cap’s shield somewhere safe - he would deal with that later.

But he would have that coffee. He did deserve a treat after all.

Sam had no trouble getting inside the building, thanks to a delivery guy leaving right when he was about to enter. He took a deep breath, just a short second before making his way up the stairs to the third floor. He had been told at least a million times that what felt like five seconds to him, had actually been five years for those left behind. And still, the dirty old apartment complex had not changed at all, not even a tiny bit. Everything had stayed the same; the chipped grey paint on the dense walls, the rusty banister, the dusty steps... It felt like a time capsule. It felt safe, it felt like home.

Except it wasn’t anymore.

As soon as he got up to his floor, he knew something was off. He didn’t realise at first but he did approach the door to his apartment more carefully, with a slight shadow of a frown on his face. Sam slowed down his last few steps and looked the door up and down, down and up again, checking every corner for something out of the ordinary, something that was not meant to be there. When he found nothing, he chuckled to himself. So stupid. He had become paranoid. It was only natural given his job but honestly, it had been high time he had calmed down. So he slid his hand into his jacket pocket to grab his keys, and with a small smile lingering in the corners of his lips, he tried to unlock his door.

And that was precisely when his smile fell.

The key just wouldn’t go into the lock. Sam tried to insert every single one of them, even went as far as attempting to force his car key through the tiny hole, which obviously didn’t work. His anxiety was slowly building up in his stomach again and just as he looked down at his key charm, he realised what had made him so suspicious the first time - his doormat was gone. His black scraper had been replaced by a dark green carpet doormat that looked like it was in desperate need for a wash. Or maybe a one-way trip to the dumpsters.

Eyebrows furrowed, Sam looked up at the rusty number 3c on the door and, once sure it was indeed his apartment, he thought he’d try his luck with the doorknob as well. His fingers were already wrapped around the cold metal when the door swung open with such force that Sam froze for a few seconds.

“I’m warning you; I’m armed!”

Sam immediately threw his hands into the air and even took a step back from your doorstep. He was frozen for a few seconds and only relaxed when he saw what you were actually holding in your hands - a tabby cat in one, and a bottle of deodorant in the other. He let out a silent sigh of relief at the sight and slowly brought his arms back to his sides, but he made sure to stay put and not to approach you just yet.

“It’s alright! I mean no harm.”

*  *  *

Several minutes later your heart was still racing, threatening to punch a whole through your chest and making a getaway down the corridor. However, you slowly relaxed your muscles as your breathing started to calm down, too, still staring the stranger dead in the eyes and making sure to hold Archie as steadily as your shaking hand could. Once you had decided you trusted the words of the man standing before you, you dropped your other hand holding the almost empty - and therefore useless - bottle. However, you did keep your distance and wrapped your now free fingers tightly around the doorknob on the inside, ready to smash it into his face the moment it would be necessary.

“Can I help you?” You asked, cradling your uninterested cat closer to your chest and burying your fingers deep in his soft fur. You raised a wary eyebrow at the stranger standing in your doorway who himself seemed just as suspicious as you were. As if he had any right to.

“Yeah...” 

You watched him look you up and down, your little grey feline jumping to your defence and staring the man dead in the eyes as if daring him to spend one more second eyeing you. And it worked. With a tiny frown he looked you in the eyes again and continued. Good job, Archie.

“Who are you?”

You thought he was joking. So you laughed and then saw the man’s face and then felt bad. He was absolutely not joking. He was genuinely confused and obviously had no idea who you were. And it was not like you were a celebrity around here but you had built quite a decent following of fellow plant-lovers over on Instagram, so you were actually mildly offended.

But it was alright; you decided to let it slide and give this stranger a chance. Who knows, maybe he had been following your updates on your snake plant stories. He did look like a snake plant kind of guy.

And maybe you could also clear up the confusion around why he had been trying to break into your home just a minute ago.

So you told him your name and when he still looked as confused as ever, you looked at him expectantly, shifting Archie’s weight from one arm to the other.

“And... who are you?” You finally decided to help him out and even offered him a tiny smile, which evaporated the second you heard his answer leave his lips.

“Sam Wilson. I-”

“Sam Wilson?” You cut him off and stared at him for a few seconds, trying to process the information. The longer you looked, the more obvious the similarities got and you cursed at yourself silently for not having realised it before. Sarah had warned you about it the moment the news broke out but she had also promised to deal with it and let you know once she had enlightened her brother. You had been expecting a phone call or maybe a text, definitely not the brother himself right on your doorstep.

“Yeah. Why?”

You had already opened your mouth to answer but were interrupted by Archie who had obviously had enough of being cradled like a baby and since the drama seemed to have ended, he was no longer interested. You let him land on the floor gently and nudged him in the direction of your tiny living room before turning back towards Sam and opening the door several inches wider.

“You know, I really think you should come in.”

“No, I have to call my sister and-”

“You haven’t called Sarah yet?!” You exclaimed, stopping in your tracks and shaking your head ever so slightly. “She’s gonna be so pissed, man.”

You watched him furrow his eyebrows and do that thing again where he looked you up and down, down and up again as if you could be an alien in disguise trying to lure him into some intergalactic trap. As if you hadn’t just tried to protect yourself with an empty deodorant bottle and a kitten. Sam Wilson clearly was a poor judge of character.

“Yeah, I know your sister, get over it. Would you please come inside?”

You put on your most friendly smile just for him and stepped aside, gesturing Sam inside the apartment you both knew so well. He gave you one last wary look before stepping over the threshold, and you rolled your eyes at him behind his back before closing the door behind the two of you.

*  *  *

“Tea? Or maybe coffee?” Sam heard from behind him and did a double take before turning towards you, already making your way to the tiny kitchen area  divided from the living room only by a worn wooden table. Sam watched you take out two identical white mugs from one of the cabinets and felt his stomach jump up into his throat and fall back into its place again; that was exactly where he kept his mugs, too. Well, used to keep them.

“Oh, ugh, coffee. Please. Black. One sugar.”

He saw you nod and get to work. Sam did wait for a while for you to start the conversation and finally explain to him what was going on. When that didn’t actually happen, he turned his head to look around, trying to shake off the weird feeling he had seeing you feel so at home in what used to be his home just a few days ago. Or five years ago. Question of perspective.

The first thing Sam noticed once he had actually taken the time to look around was green. What, at first glance, had slipped his attention was now screaming at him from every corner of the apartment. The living room was filled to the brim with houseplants. There were handsome little pots of plants on the windowsills, on the bookshelves, even on the kitchen counter. What hadn’t fit higher, got place on the floor.

You had turned the apartment into a botanical garden.

“Hey, plant lady? Is this even legal? It feels illegal.” He gestured all around the room and you followed his movement with your eyes, a tiny grin creeping its way onto your face but disappearing the very next second. Sam tried his best to play along and act like he hadn’t even noticed.

“Oh would you look at that, you can actually form full sentences,” you teased, giving him a side-eyed look before handing him your mug filled with hot black coffee, which Sam took gladly, ignoring the drop of sarcasm in your voice.

“Those are actually fine,” you continued after the first sip of your tea and pointing at the cat yawning on the dirty old couch in the middle of the living room. “Archie is the only problem here. But hush, he’s a secret.”

“How can you keep a cat here in secret?”

“I bribed the superintendent,” you whispered, leaning a little closer to Sam and flashing him a perfect albeit forced smile.

“Old Charlie? No way!” Sam scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief.

“O-ho, yes way! Everyone has a weakness and I’ve found our old Charlie’s.”

“Which is...?”

“... a secret I’ve vowed to take to the grave with me,” you replied and gave emphasis to your words with a tiny nod of your head, leaving Sam slightly disappointed but smirking nonetheless.

In the short silence that followed, he took another sip of his hot coffee, enjoying every millisecond of the burning, bittersweet sensation before finally addressing the elephant in the room. Because even though his suspicions had somewhat settled, Sam was still completely confused about how on Earth you could possibly know his sister and talk about her so casually. And you must have been thinking of the same thing because as he looked at you above his now half empty mug and your gazes met, you closed your eyes and let out a sigh, gesturing towards the small kitchen table.

“Let’s talk, I guess.”

*  *  *

mini-series taglist - let me know if you’d like to be added

@softieyn

@mahvericks

@amirahiddleston

@fireghost-x

@samuelthomaswillson

mcu taglist - join here

@babymango-writes

@softieyn

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@whutisthus

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@katethecrazy

@swanimagines​

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@musicallisto​

[usermoreid]

Darkened Nights (Violent Things)

Fic Week Day Two: Alternate ending to an episode

“I choose Aaron Hotchner. He's a classic narcissist. He thinks he's better than everyone else on the team. Genesis 23:4. ‘Let him not deceive himself and trust in emptiness, vanity, falseness, and futility, for these shall be his recompense’.”

The silence in the room was palpable. In almost perfect synchronicity, every head turned to face the man in question only moments before he stormed out of the room, footsteps echoing throughout the house.

"I'm not a narcissist," he said, pacing back and forth as the others entered the room, slowly as if approaching a wild animal that could attack at any second.

"Come on. Look, you can't think anything from that. He's not in his right mind, Hotch," Gideon tried to reassure him, quickly stopping when he was interrupted.

"No, stop. Stop." The room fell quiet once again. "Alright, everybody right now - what's my worst quality?" His head turned frantically around the room, taking in everyone's hesitancy to answer. "Okay, I'll start. I have no sense of humour."

"You're a bully," JJ said hardly a second after he'd finished.

"I'm a bully," he repeated.

"You can be a drill sergeant sometimes."

"Right."

"You don't trust women as much as men."

"Okay, good. I'm all these things, but none of you said that I ever put myself above the team, because I don't, ever. So why did Reid say that I do?"

"Don't jump to any conclusions just yet. Reid is smart. For all we know, he could have been leaving clues this entire time. We just need to find what they are."

"Clues? We don't even know if Reid's aware that we saw that!" His voice raised at Gideon as an exasperated arm was thrown in the air. "What sort of clue is 'narcissist'? That doesn't lead us anywhere. Like you said, Reid is smart. His clues would be more obvious than that."

He turned on his foot, heading back in the direction he came from. The others all shared a look of trepidation before following after him. They'd never seen their boss so unsettled, and in turn it was fraying their nerves in an already precarious situation. Gideon was the only one to look unperturbed but even Emily, who had spent such little time around the man, could see the tightness around his mouth and the stiff way in which he stood. He may have been acting as though he wasn't bothered but they could see right through him. Despite this, they walked on without mentioning it, knowing how private of a man Gideon was.

Back in the computer room, the tension was so thick it was almost suffocating, squeezing their hearts like a clenched fist prepared to strike at any moment. They were all on edge, staring intently at each blank screen as if they would come to life, the answer to the question that was plaguing them all displayed clearly on the screen. But there were no bold letters written out in front of them. There was no easy solution. Their youngest team member was still at the mercy of an unsub that had seemingly no plan to let him leave alive and they had no way of finding him.

Hotch cursed softly under his breath and stalked out of the room once more after several minutes had passed without so much as a mumble from anyone. The team knew better than to feel any shock at Hotch's out of character expletive; none of them could blame the man for not acting like himself. Instead, they looked to Gideon for guidance. The older man held a single hand up, preventing them from joining him in going after Hotch. He searched through the rooms, not finding his colleague in any of them, and then the grounds outside. It was a few feet in front of the house that he finally spotted him. If it wasn't for the gentle rise and fall of his chest, he could've been mistaken for a statue.

"He's still alive."

Hotch showed no sign of having heard Gideon approaching or settling a few steps behind him, and yet he didn't startle at the words, his stare remaining off into the darkness.

"You can't prove that."

"It's Reid. He always survives."

A small sound filled the air. It would have passed for a chuckle if the bitterness had not been so clear, as if it had rotted within him before being set free.

"You know, sometimes I feel like God sent Reid to me for a reason; as if there was something I could do for him. I couldn't even teach him how to deal with the emotional side of this job before I sent him into what's probably going to be the most traumatising thing he's ever going to experience."

"Then you help him through the aftermath. You still have time, Hotch. Your work isn't done."

Hotch shook his head. "I can't save him."

"All by yourself? Probably not, but I wouldn't be surprised if you did. You've got an entire team in there, Hotch, ready to risk everything. You helped him become the agent he is. If there's anybody that can help him again now, it's you. You understand him. I'm sure there's something Reid mentioned that tells us where he is, but we need you to not treat this like he's already gone."

Neither of them spoke. The only noise between them was the delicate wind, soft whispers floating throughout the air as if sending a message that he couldn’t quite decipher. Hotch’s head dropped down to face the dirt below him, a queue for Gideon to leave that he thankfully took, making his way back to the house that he was beyond tired of seeing. A small breath left Hotch’s lips, almost a sigh but not quite. He knew that Gideon was right. Standing outside staring at the ground wasn’t helping anybody but Hankel, and yet he couldn’t quite find it in himself to turn around. Spencer’s words were playing on repeat in his mind.

“He's a classic narcissist. He thinks he's better than everyone else on the team.”

Was he right? Of course he was, Hotch thought to himself. Spencer was never wrong, and he wouldn’t use the word ‘narcissist’ so lightly. But if he truly did put himself above the rest of his team, could he really trust himself to do what was best for one of its members? After all, everybody else was in that god-forsaken house, working tirelessly to bring Spencer home, and here he was: standing alone outside, focusing on his own problems instead of helping them.

With a shuddering breath, he turned around, pausing for only a moment before heading back to his team. Reid may have been right about the narcissism, but he would do everything in his power to get him back regardless. Reid was still alive, and he intended to find him that way as soon as he possibly could.

They all worked until the sun came up, the bright gold rays almost taunting them as they shone in through the windows. It was as the morning light hit that Hotch finally managed to force some of them to sleep. Morgan, JJ and Garcia were the firsts to go, though Morgan was only out for barely two hours before he returned, letting Gideon rest instead. Hotch felt the need to ask if he’d managed to get any sleep at all but based on the drooping of his eyes and the anxious clenching of his fists, he felt it wasn’t necessary.

They continued the search, finding dead end after dead end, and all the while both Hotch and Morgan refused to sleep. Prentiss eventually conceded, taking JJ’s space once she’d woken up. Hotch was rather impressed by how well she functioned on such little rest but he didn’t spare much thought on the matter, knowing that there were more important things at hand. It was only after the third time that they’d nearly fallen asleep on each other that the two men finally accepted that it was time to rest. They needed their entire focus on getting Reid home and they wouldn’t be able to do that if they were incapable of thinking. With heavy hearts and much hesitation, they left the room.

Neither of them had wanted to sleep in the house, the knowledge that they were currently residing in the home of the man that had their friend was hanging over their heads, making it almost impossible to even stand in. Instead, they chose the comfort (or lack thereof) of the FBI SUVs. Hotch climbed into one as Morgan climbed into the other, both immediately sitting in the driver’s seat and laying it back as far as they could go.

Being mid January, there was a strong chill in the air despite the persistent shining of the sun above them. Hotch wrapped his suit jacket tighter around himself, trying to maintain any sense of warmth that the thin clothing gave him. His eyes fell shut and he attempted to fight back every thought that was swarming around in his mind, loud and obnoxious and refusing to leave. It felt like hours of trying to quieten his mind, though in reality it mustn’t have been more than thirty minutes, when the passenger side door opened. His head instantly turned, eyes flying open as the lack of sleep made him more paranoid but less alert.

“I’m guessing I’m not the only one who can’t sleep,” Morgan said as he dropped into the seat next to him, door slamming shut behind him.

Hotch grunted, eyes closing again. “I knew I should’ve just stayed there and continued working.”

“No, you still did the right thing coming out here. I want to be in there just as much as you do but we’re no help if we can’t even stand upright.”

He hummed non-committedly. “Maybe so. Doesn’t make me okay with being out here while my team is in there working.” Typically, Hotch would never speak to a subordinate in such a way. The lack of sleep, however, was really beginning to affect him, taking away his filter.

It was silent for a few beats, no sound to be heard in or out of the car, until Morgan finally spoke again.

“You know Reid doesn’t actually think you’re a narcissist, right?”

“I hardly think it matters. I’m his boss, he’s allowed to view me in whatever way he does and I have no say in that.”

“But you’re not just his boss, you’re his friend. He had to name someone so that Hankel would stop the roulette. He did it as a means of survival and that’s it. There’s nothing more to it.”

Hotch swallowed hard, still refusing to open his eyes. If he didn’t see Morgan there, he could almost pretend he was talking to himself.

“I just… he’s so young, Morgan, and he’s been through so much already.”

“I know,” Morgan replied quietly. “It’s awful just watching him go through it, I can’t imagine what it actually feels like to be trapped there.”

“We haven’t even seen a video of him in hours and I don’t- It’s not like I actually want to see him being hurt but I’m going out of my mind wondering why it’s been so long.”

Morgan sighed. “I wish I had an answer for you, man. I get it, though. Seeing him is awful but at least we know he’s alive. Right now we’re stuck in this weird limbo where Spencer Reid is both alive and not alive and there’s nothing we can do about it.”

“Schrödinger's Spencer.”

Morgan didn’t reply for a moment but when he did, it was with a snort. “That’s such a Reid joke to make.”

Hotch let out a light chuckle. “I suppose it is,” he said, his head gently falling back to rest against the seat behind him, “and I suppose that’s a sign for me to go to sleep.”

“Aaron Hotchner cracking jokes? Absolutely a sign to sleep. Good night.”

A small smile made its way to Hotch’s face for hardly a second but the weight that had been taken off his chest felt more permanent. “Good night, Morgan.”

It only took a few minutes after that for the two of them to drift off into a less than restful slumber, the anxiety still flowing through their veins making it difficult to stay asleep. It was enough, though, and by time they walked back into the house, they were ready to start the search again. “What have we got?” Hotch asked as they entered the room.

“Nothing new,” Prentiss informed them, a restrained disappointment seeping into her words. “We haven’t got any more videos, we’ve searched everywhere that’s connected to him, and there have been no new murders.”

“So another dead end." Morgan's fists clenched by his side but he managed to hold himself back from hitting anything.

“I know it’s difficult,” Gideon said, “but we just have to wait it out. I’m aware that the last thing any of us wants is to sit around doing nothing but until we have something to go off, there’s nothing we can do but be patient.”

“Patient,” Morgan murmured with a small scoff. “Right. I’ll just be patient while my best friend is off being tortured.” His eyes drifted around the room, lending on the stack of books sitting on the table. “I guess I’ll go through Hankel’s writing again, see if we missed anything.”

Hotch watched as he reached for one of the books. “I’ll help.”

---------

“We’ll have to watch the videos again.”

Every head turned to face Gideon. They’d spent the past few hours reading the books, over and over and over, looking for any little thing they could’ve missed. Garcia had conducted the most in-depth cyber search possible, trying to find anybody and anything that could be connected to either of the Hankel men. Everything had come up empty. The only thing they had yet to do was rewatch the tapes. They knew it was the next logical step but the thought of watching Reid go through that pain all over again made them feel sick to their stomachs.

“JJ, Garcia, neither of you need to stay for this. Go see if you can get some food together for us, it’s been a while since any of us have eaten a real meal. I know it’s already dark but take a car and see if you can find something. Prentiss, Morgan, you’re free to join them if you’d rather but your eyes would be of use here.”

Once Garcia had loaded the videos ready to be played, her and JJ followed Hotch’s orders, though not without some hesitation from the latter. Morgan and Prentiss immediately sat down without a word, prepared to watch them regardless of how much they wished it wasn’t necessary. It was an unspoken agreement to not acknowledge the way everybody froze momentarily as the first video started, an image of Reid coming onto the screen, clear signs of physical trauma evident.

“The other heathens are watching. Choose a sinner to die, and I’ll say the name and address of the person to be saved.”

“I won't choose who gets slaughtered and have you leave their remains behind like a poacher.”

“Did you see that?” Morgan asked. “The way he looked into the camera before he spoke. What did he say - ‘leave their remains behind like a poacher’? I think that’s a clue.”

Gideon considered him for a moment. “I think you might be right. Here,” he handed him his notebook and pen, “write it down.” He played the next video.

“Tobias, help me.”

“He can’t help you, he’s weak!”

All four of the viewers flinched as skin hit against skin; as whimpers and cries fell from Reid’s lips. Morgan’s fist hitting the table was ignored as the agent on screen fell back in his chair, head hitting the floor with great force.

“You came back to life.”

“Raphael.”

Their focus didn’t leave the screen, watching intently as Reid stared God’s Will directly in the eye and didn’t flinch, God’s angel holding the trigger.

“Choose.”

“I choose Aaron Hotchner. He’s a classic narcissist.”

Hotch exhaled deeply but didn’t stop watching, listening to the words that had been playing on repeat in his mind since he’d first heard them. Morgan’s mouth opened as if to speak when Prentiss suddenly raised a hand in front of her, stopping whatever he was going to say. The men looked up at her and she put a finger to her lips, her other hand pointing in the direction of the room next door. They remained silent, ears straining to hear what Prentiss was referring to. It was a few moments later that they realised what it was - a small thump.

Immediately alert, they all reached for their weapons, drawing them up and preparing to defend each other. Hotch crept forward, signaling for the others to get behind him. He moved soundlessly, slowly approaching the door frame that led to the front room. Once at the edge, he glanced into the room, immediately spotting the man standing on the other side.

Morgan moved to stand next to his boss. Gideon and Prentiss would’ve taken the only other door in the room, leaving him with no exit, but there was no path to get there without passing him. Instead, they pressed close, ready to charge in behind Hotch and Morgan. As they were about to move, the man turned around.

“Aaron Hotchner,” Hankel said, voice low but strong, back straight as he stared down his target. “You’re a sinner. Job 15:31. ‘Let him not deceive himself and trust in emptiness, vanity, falseness, and futility, for these shall be his recompense.’ You must repent.”

His arm hadn’t raised more than a few inches before four different guns went off, bullets lodging into several different parts of his body. He dropped.

Gideon immediately pushed forward, crouching down to check the man’s pulse. “Dead,” he told them.

“Did you hear what he said?” Hotch’s voice was subdued, his gaze fixed on the body on the floor.

“What about it?” Prentiss asked.

“Job 15:31. He said it was Job 15:31. Reid said it was Genesis 23:4. Why would he get it wrong?”

“He’s under a lot of stress. It’s understandable if he misremembered something,” Morgan answered, though he sounded sceptical.

“But he didn’t misremember it. He misquoted it. So what does Genesis 23:4 actually say?” They all hurried to the bookcase that contained bibles, Hotch getting there first and instantly grabbing the closest copy to flick through the pages, sparing hardly a glance at each. “Here,” he said, passing his book to Morgan, “Genesis, chapter twenty-three, verse four. Read it.”

Morgan took the offered bible, finding where Hotch gestured before reading it out loud. “I am a stranger and a sojourner with you. Give me property, forbear a place among you that I may bury my dead out of my sight.”

“He wouldn’t get it wrong unless it was on purpose.” Shock and relief stretched his lips into a smile.

“He’s in a cemetery.” Prentiss realised.

At that moment, the door opened and in walked the two that had left earlier, each with a bag on their arm. “Oh my God,” Garcia gasped as she saw the man on the floor, bag falling next to her feet with a thud. “Who is that?!”

“Is that Hankel?” JJ placed her bag down next to Garcia’s but paid no more attention to the food it contained, her focus entirely on the face that was currently surrounded by a pool of its own blood.

“It is,” Hotch answered quickly. “Garcia, check to see if there have been any reports of poaching in the last couple of days.”

“Okay, okay, uh…” She trailed off as she rushed to the computer with the others following, taking care to not step in the blood. It took less than a minute for her to set up the system and conduct her search. “A farmer reported two sheep being slaughtered on his property.”

“Where are we talking?”

Garcia zoomed in on the map in response to Morgan’s question.

“What’s that patch of green there?”

“Marshall Parish,” Hotch replied to JJ. “I think it’s an old plantation.”

Emily leaned forward, catching everyone’s attention. “Wait. Tobias wrote in his journals about staying clean and keeping away from Marshall.”

“Does that say that there’s a cemetery on the ground?” Gideon pointed at the screen.

“We’ve found him,” Hotch breathed. “We’re going to save him.”

-------

“FBI!”

As soon as Hotch’s foot hit the floor after kicking the door open, he was moving. Along with some of the local police, the team entered the cabin, guns drawn and eyes on alert as they searched for any sign of their missing agent.

“Clear!”

“Clear!”

“Oh! What’s that smell?” Prentiss scrunched her face up against the overwhelming scent in the air, casting her glance around the room to find the source. She spotted it on the floor: a pile of burnt fish. The smell threatened to take over their senses as they coughed against it, fighting the urge to leave immediately.

“Let’s spread out. He has to be here somewhere. Let’s go!” Hotch stormed ahead, looking as though the stench hadn’t had the slightest effect on him.

Gideon watched as everybody fanned out to search the grounds as his eyes took one last look over the room, being drawn to the pair of handcuffs laying haphazardly on a chair that he clearly recognised from the videos. Spencer had been sitting in that chair. He’d had those handcuffs on him. He’d been surrounded by that smell. So where was he now? He couldn’t have let himself out of those cuffs, but Hankel wouldn’t have just let him roam free.

With that thought in mind, he left into the darkness of the winter night, the chill immediately seeping into his bones despite the thick clothing he had on to protect himself. An image of Spencer, as frozen as the real Charles Hankel, pushed its way to the front of his mind completely unbidden. He did his best to shove it back, knowing it wouldn’t help. It didn’t leave.

They scoured the cemetery, searching over every inch looking for anything that might tell them where Spencer was before it was too late. Hankel must’ve left him hours ago without a fire or any other means of warmth, it was no wonder that he’d finally become desperate enough to leave the cabin on his own accord despite the great risks it presented him, Hotch thought.

He was aware that Spencer could’ve made it to a road by now but judging by the presumed lack of shoes and warmth, as well as his recently sustained injuries, he felt that it was reasonable to assume that he hadn’t gotten far. Just to cover all bases, he sent some local officers further up, closer to where they’d arrived from.

They’d been searching for over twenty minutes when they finally found something. A patch of soil, packed more freshly than that around it. It had been recently planted within the last few days.

“Morgan!” Hotch yelled at the top of his lungs, above the noise of everybody else calling out a different name. He instantly dropped to his knees and began clawing at the dirt, scraping it out and throwing it in random directions, not paying any mind to anybody around him. A body dropped down next to him and hands joined his own but neither looked at the other, concentrating only on the cold ground below them.

They dug and they dug until they hit something - something colder than the dirt it was surrounded with, something much paler. They continued tearing at the floor even more savagely than before, desperation leaking through at the sight of the foreign object. Fear gripped them tighter than the cold did, making them work harder and faster until suddenly a white cloth was visible, soon followed by a familiar dark red.

“No, no, no, no,” Morgan muttered, each word faster and louder than the last. “Come on, man!”

Hotch pulled away dirt from higher up, more gently this time, though he refused to acknowledge what could be under it until he finally saw it. A face, skin soft and almost glistening in the moonlight, marred by dirt and blood. Spencer.

He wedged an arm underneath his back as soon as the opportunity presented itself, Morgan having pulled enough of the ground off of his arms for it to not cause any harm, and he pulled. Once the top half of his body was fully out of the dirt, his hand raised on its own accord in search of a pulse as Morgan set to work on the CPR.

No pulse.

His breath caught in his throat but his fingers didn’t move. He was vaguely aware of the ringing in his ears but he ignored it.

“Please, Spencer. Please,” he forced out through gritted teeth. “Wake up. Come on. Wake up!”

“Not like this, pretty boy. Not like this.”

Morgan hadn’t stopped the CPR, going harder than what was necessary. It didn’t escape Hotch’s notice that any CPR at all may be unnecessary as he took a closer look at the boy in front of him. His eyes were closed and his skin was freezing to the touch. At first Hotch assumed that he must have been buried only hours before, likely just before Hankel left on his final self-righteous mission. Now, though, as he stared at the blue-tinted pallor of the agent in front of him, he doubted it.

Spencer Reid had been dead for at least a day now.

“Morgan, stop,” he muttered half-heartedly, his line of sight not moving from eyes that wouldn’t open. He’d never forced Spencer to make eye contact with him before but he was wishing with everything he had that just this once, he would; that just this once, Spencer would open his eyes and stare right back at him.

The aggressive panting by his ear hadn’t stopped, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away. What if Spencer opened his eyes for only a second as he looked away? What if he missed Spencer’s final breath? What if-

“Morgan. You have to stop.” His voice was weak but it was all he could muster, still not looking away but being able to see the hands still pumping down on Reid’s chest as he periodically reached up to perform mouth-to-mouth. “Morgan.” He didn’t stop. “Morgan!”

He finally snatched his eyes away from those in front of him, becoming frozen in place as he watched Morgan lose control of the tears rolling down his face. Small sobs fell from his lips but he was clearly holding them back, trying so hard to save a dead man. It didn’t look as though he’d even heard Hotch’s words.

With a shaking breath, Hotch put his hand on Morgan’s arm, not surprised when it was instantly thrown off in a rather violent manner. He put his hand back, holding tighter but still getting thrown off. He forced himself to sit back, body threatening to collapse under the stress of it. Harsher than before, he gripped Morgan’s arm and pulled. Nothing. He pulled again. Nothing.

“Morgan, he's dead. You have to stop.”

Morgan furiously shook his head but otherwise didn’t acknowledge him, leaving Hotch with only one other option. He wrapped both of his arms around the man’s torso and pulled as hard as he could, refusing to let go no matter how much the struggling man tried to get away. Morgan’s arms flailed wildly but Hotch didn’t budge.

“You did all you could, Morgan. You did all you could. There’s nothing more to do. I’m sorry,” he murmured into his ear, the low volume not entirely on purpose.

“No!” Morgan shouted, fighting harder against the restraints of Hotch’s arms. “We can’t just give up on him!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he repeated, finding himself unable to stop apologising despite the fact that the words were unable to reach the ears of the person they were meant for.

“Hotch, we can’t- we can’t just give up. We can’t just give up.” At this point Morgan had stopped struggling, both against Hotch and the sobs that were now ripping their way out of his throat. His head buried itself into Hotch’s shoulder as his hands came up to grip onto the arms around him, his legs slightly curling up as wails of agony tore through him.

Around them stood the rest of the team, watching the scene in front of them unfold whilst knowing that there was nothing they could do to help. JJ and Penelope were wrapped around each other, tears falling freely from their eyes as they listened to the slowly quieting cries of the usually hard-to-break agent. Emily was completely frozen, her breath slowing to almost a complete stop. Gideon’s face remained unchanged, though the tears blurring his vision were hard to miss. He took one more look at the man he considered his son, and he turned around, walking away back into the darkness.

Hotch’s arms loosened but didn’t let go of the man inside of them. His apologies hadn’t stopped even as his eyes became less focused, his mind trying to take him somewhere far away but failing to take him further than that cabin. It was ironic, he thought, that a house belonging to someone so dedicated to his worship could be so void of God. No, there was no God here, but there had been an angel, and he’d taken Spencer Reid away from them.

“I’m sorry,” Hotch whispered. “I should’ve understood.”

[imkylotrash]

Heyy, could I request a Saul x student!reader, of age, where they're in the middle of an argument and someone utters those three words, i love you, and clearly they've not said to each other before... ends with fluff? also angst first cuz we all love that (hides in the corner with my blanket)

I hope this is what you had in mind 💛

The day starts out good. Like really good. As in showering together, laughing when he creates a foam beard, hot kisses behind closed doors. It starts out good. By lunchtime, you’ve stolen several moments in empty classrooms and in empty corridors. Even though you’ve been together for almost a year now, it still feels like that honeymoon phase in the beginning of the relationship. 

“I have to go,” you whisper giving him a final kiss before running to class. You’re not sure when things turn sour but when you return to his chambers that night, he’s definitely not in the honeymoon phase anymore. 

“Something wrong?” you ask closing the door behind you. He’s sitting on the edge of the bed his entire body rigid. In the entirety of your relationship, you’ve had exactly one fight right in the beginning and it was so unimportant that you don’t even remember what is was about. But this right here is new territory. You’ve never seen him this upset. 

“Saul?” you ask wondering if he even heard you. He looks so lost in his thoughts you’re not sure he’s even noticed you yet. Carefully, you walk in front of him getting on your knees so you can look at him properly. 

“What happened, hon’?” you ask attempting to cup his cheeks but he pushes your hands away. His anger is definitely directed at you yet you have no idea what you could’ve possibly done in the last few hours since you saw him last. 

“Did you tell someone about us?” he asks getting up to pace the room. You stay down trying to figure out how on Earth he’d find out that you told one friend. She promised she wouldn’t tell anyone and you’d been desperate to talk to someone. It’s hard not being able to talk to your friends about relationship subjects. Sometimes you just need a second opinion. 

“I... I told-”

“So you did? Who?” He paces even faster not even looking at you as you slowly get on your feet. You have a feeling this is going to be more than just a calm chat. 

“I told Amber. But she promised she wouldn’t say anything. I’d trust her with my life!” you defend her hoping he’ll believe you. There’s no way Amber would tell anyone. In the five years you’ve known her, she’s kept every secret you’ve ever shared. 

“Clearly, she did. Because I just had to lie to Farah’s face and say that the rumours most certainly weren’t true.” You understand his frustration but you also think it’s a little misguided. You’ve kept the secret for a year at his request, he was the one worried what everyone would think despite him not being your headmaster. You were a fairy meaning you had nothing to do with the specialists and in turn with Saul. But he had remained adamant that he couldn’t date a student publicly, so you kept the secret. 

“Someone must’ve overheard us then. I can vouch for her,” you say trying to think logically. There’s a lot of young teenage girls who harboured a crush on the soldier standing in front of you. You wouldn’t put it past one of them to try to ruin your relationship by telling everyone what they’d overheard. 

“Why would you tell her in the first place? Why risk it?” he says trying to keep his cool. You know he’s not one to yell easily but the vein in his neck tells you he’s about to blow. 

“I just needed to talk some things through,” you say weakly not wanting to admit the real reason why you talked to Amber. Not when he’s acting like this. 

“What things could be so important that you’d risk this entire relationship?” he yells finally giving in to the urge. It’s the first time he’s ever yelled at you and it makes you feel incredibly small.

“I risk our relationship by having a private conversation with someone I trust completely?” you ask feeling yourself get angry too. This is so unfair. Maybe he doesn’t need to talk to others and consult but you do. And you should be allowed to do so with just one person. 

“Yes! I told you I wanted to wait until you graduated!” he exclaims throwing out his arms in a real tantrum style. This is so far from the Saul you know and adore. How did today get so twisted? 

“You better choose your next words very carefully,” you say trying to regain some of your posture. You don’t want to yell at him. You want him to calm down and have an actual conversation with you. 

“You certainly didn’t pick your words carefully. Or we wouldn’t be in this mess.” Your brain is begging you to walk out and end this fight right now but your heart is telling you to stay and fix this. 

“Mess? That’s what you want to call this? What is your problem?” you ask feeling your hands shake with actual anger. 

“My problem is you blabbering to everyone when I told you to keep it a secret and you can’t even tell my why!” 

“You want to know why I told Amber? What I needed to talk about?” you yell losing your cool once again. You are so over taking the high road. If he wants to insult you and yell at you, you’re not just going to take it. 

“Yes!” 

“Fine! I needed to talk to her because I wanted advice on how to tell you that I love you!” Deafening silence. Out of all the reasons you’d need to talk to Amber, he definitely wasn’t expecting this. 

“You love me?” he asks very quietly compared to his yelling before. Of course the answer is yes, but right now you don’t. Right now, you want to walk out and never talk to him again. 

“Not right now, I don’t.” You cross your arms waiting for him to throw another fit but he stays silent. You’re pretty sure you’d rather have him yelling than this state of shock. Is it so unimaginable that after a year you’d be ready to tell him that you love him? Is it because the feeling isn’t mutual? Maybe he wanted to keep it a secret because he never thought it would go further than a fling. 

“I’m going to go,” you say not ready to hear all the reasons why he doesn’t feel the same. He grabs your wrist as you pass him causing you to stop. Even now his touch sends a chill down your spine. 

“Don’t go. I’m an asshole.” 

“You won’t hear me argue that.” It helps to hear him admit it though. You truly are sorry that word got around but you never intended for that to happen. You just needed advice from someone you could trust. 

“Do you still love me after the way I just behaved?” he asks stroking your arm gently instead of gripping into your wrist. It’s such a small thing but it sends your nerves into overdrive. It’s always like this when he touches you. 

“Of course I do. I just won’t be treated like that and be expected to take it.” 

“You shouldn’t have to. I was worked up and you were in the line of fire. I’m truly sorry.” You take a deep breath just wanting this fight to be over with. You hate fighting with him especially when you only have so much time with him throughout the day. Mornings and nights are times where you should be cuddled up in the bed talking about everything and nothing. 

“Well?” 

“Well what?” he asks confused at the question.  

“I told you I love you. It’s pretty natural to at least give some sort of response.” He laughs quietly looking straight into your eyes. 

“Do you honestly think I’d ever say anything other than I love you too?” Finally, you can relax. You’ll admit this hasn’t been ideal, but you’re happy you got to say it. You’ve been wanting to for the last month just waiting for the right time. Turns out there never really is a right time for these kinds of things. You just have to throw yourself in the deep end and hope you’ll float. 

“It’s nice to hear you say it though.” He leans in to kiss you and you let him. You don’t want to be mad at him anymore. 

“I love you,” he whispers against your lips before kissing you again. He tells you a third time before lifting you up and carrying you to the bed. A fourth time before he carefully places kisses down your neck. A fifth time before he starts unbuttoning your shirt. You stop counting after that. 

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

Tagging: @grey-girl @intoanothermind @artsyle @baueoud @glowingatdawn @anreeixcobra @kingunder221b @lflores2008 @alexiapayne12 @quuenofblacks @quarterback-5 @estelmei @bitchwhytho @music-of-melody 

[fific7]

Into the Darkness / Part 3

The Darkling x Reader

A/N: This does not follow canon, it’s literally just lemon zest 🍋 ... I have a vision of Ben Barnes in his black Kefta and riding boots permanently stuck in my brain right now. Attempting to write it right out of there.

Warnings: 18+ please due to NSFW content. Some dom/sub interaction, being restrained, coercion, questionable consent (thankfully it takes place in a fantasy universe), sexual content including oral, rough unprotected* sex. I don’t mention her actual age, but Reader is not underage.

*Irl, please don’t go wild in the country without protection.

[My GIF]

“Moi soverennyi... why have you woken me?”

“Why do you think, little dove?”

You realised that this was to be your life from now on.

His hands pulled you up from your prone position, and you found yourself crushed against his body. You knew this was done on purpose - firstly, so that you knew he was naked and secondly, so that you felt his erection against your thigh as he did so. Which you did. How long had you slept? It was probably longer but you felt as if it was only a few minutes, and yet he already wanted to - what had he called it? - fuck you again? You were still sore from earlier; your throat and between your legs felt rubbed raw.

“Turn around and get on your knees.” His voice sounded harsh for some reason, so you rushed to obey although you wondered at his tone. Maybe he didn’t like appearing needy for you, this would after all be the third time he’d had you in the saints knew how many hours. As you were thinking this, your head was pushed back down into the pillows, meaning you were now balanced on your knees and elbows with your bottom in the air.

A long finger was pushed inside you from behind and you cried out in surprise. Another finger joined it immediately and you yelped again. “Be quiet! You make too much noise, woman.” You felt his thumb moving onto the area he’d concentrated on before, rubbing circles onto it, and once again you felt pleasure rippling through you. His fingers started moving in you; coupled with what his thumb was doing, you couldn’t deny that it was enjoyable. You were breathing very shakily.

Suddenly it all stopped, only to be replaced by his hard length abruptly sliding into you without any warning. You screamed, but he’d anticipated this and had pushed your face right into the pillow, virtually silencing all your cries.

He began thrusting into you, grinding against you without mercy, the fingers of one hand digging into your hips, while the other hand kept your face buried in the pillows. You felt him remove it, “Keep your head down,” he said as he did so. His hand went to your breasts, squeezing, massaging as they hung heavy above the mattress, pulling at your nipples and making you squeal. “Will you be QUIET!” he hissed in your ear.

It felt incessant to you, was he never going to stop? He was loudly grunting this time with the effort of pounding into you. He got to make noise, but you didn’t?

You heard his long-drawn-out groan and felt relief, knowing what it meant. Once again, the warmth spread inside you and he pulled out. You felt his juices running down your legs this time, cooling as they hit the air and your skin. You slowly stretched out your back and leg muscles, and lay down gratefully on the bed. The sheets were sticky, you noticed with distaste. You felt the mattress lift slightly; he’d got up and was heading to the door.

You caught a glimpse of his naked body as he walked across the room - tall and lean but nicely muscled. The door was unlocked and he left the bedroom; you supposed he was going to re-dampen the washcloth. He returned, and sure enough you felt the warm washcloth making its way over you. He’d also brought a second washcloth and was attempting to clean up the sticky areas on the sheets.

Perhaps the action of washing you had sparked something; just as you were relaxing into enjoying it, he put his hands under your knees and pulled them up, opening your legs as he did so. You’d started squirming, feeling very exposed and uncomfortable, when you were dealt a stinging blow onto your right thigh. “Stop moving!” he ordered. Gasping, you looked into his angry face but ended up giving another longer, louder, gasp as he quickly shoved his now-erect-again cock fully into you.

You hadn’t even noticed him getting hard again. How long did it take for this to happen in men, you wondered? There was so much you didn’t know. Then you realised that he’d lifted your legs right up and placed your ankles on his shoulders.

This gave him a whole new angle to thrust into you from; he was making the most of it, his pace so fast and each deep thrust forcing a pained moan from you. You were still very tender, but that didn’t seem to have any impact on Kirigan at all. He was obviously extremely keen to continue his ‘training’ of you to accept him at any time, at any place.

For some reason, this time he didn’t finish inside you, leaning back so that his cock slid out of you, spilling onto his stomach instead. However it soon became clear why, when he told you to clean it all off him. You’d reached for the washcloth but he shook his head at you, so you dropped it back onto the bedside table.

Instead, as he’d intended, you’d used your tongue to lick him clean, meaning that all you could taste was his now-familiar salty/musky tang as you lay under the covers, staring up at the ceiling with him lying beside you.

Listening to his shallow, even breathing, wondering again why you’d ended up in his bed as his only ‘companion’.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

You’d eventually fallen asleep, and when you were shaken awake again some time later, you weren’t surprised this time. You looked at him as he leaned over you, and were surprised when he kissed you, tongue easing into your mouth.

He pulled you onto your side, and you felt his cock between your legs. He thrust into you, one hand going to your breast and the other to your thigh, pulling you against him. He moved his fingers to where he disappeared inside you, finding that spot with his thumb and rubbing it over and over, making you jump. His pace was slightly slower this time, his thrusts less punishing. Once he’d released inside you, he continued rubbing at you, massaging your breasts and kissing you until you climaxed. You remembered to thank him as instructed, and he’d stroked your hair as if you were a pet.

This time, as soon as he slid out of you, he more or less fell asleep immediately. It took you longer, as you now had an extremely painful ache between your legs which was difficult to ignore. In the space of a few hours, you’d gone from untouched virgin to having been fucked five times in a row without respite, and it was taking a terrible toll on your body. Your throat still burned, and your hand went between your legs trying to soothe the heat which burned there, and you finally drifted off to sleep.

When you next opened your eyes, it was brighter in the room. He was still fast asleep, but almost as if he’d sensed you were awake, his eyes flickered open. He gazed at you, reaching over and stroking one of your breasts, before rolling your nipple between his fingers. He propped himself up on one elbow, leaning over and letting his tongue lazily run over the nipple and surrounding area, before starting to bite at it. Then he moved to your other breast, beginning the same ritual.

You jumped again as he bit down. “Would it be correct to say that you like my breasts, moi soverennyi?” you asked, staring back at him. “A lot?”

He laughed. “Yes, it would be.” He sat up properly, placing both hands on them and grasping greedily at them. “In fact, I’d go so far as to say I’m obsessed by them. They’re so... full and soft, and a perfect fit for my hands. They’re partly why you are here.”

You sat up a bit. “I’ve been wondering about that... why I’m here, I mean. I did not know you before I was brought to your quarters.”

He toyed with your nipples as he said, “Ah, but I happened to see you in the Camp about a month ago... coming out of your tent in the early morning. In just your trousers and undershirt. You were not aware I was watching you. And I would be lying if I said I didn’t study your body closely in the dawn light, through your thin shirt. Your breasts - what I could see of them - looked perfect that morning. I couldn’t get that vision of you out of my head. And now I have you, in every way. I can touch you, kiss you, fuck you, whatever I want.”

Grabbing one breast again, he kissed your nipple, lapping at it. He looked up at you, grey eyes looking softer than usual. “I’d say that makes me a very lucky man.”

You were silent, absolutely amazed that you’d caught his eye over all the other Grisha women.

He continued, “I’d sent the Oprichniki to bring you here the morning you deserted. I’d decided by then that I needed to make you my companion, only to find that you’d disappeared. But luckily you were in the first place they looked.” He laughed, “You didn’t make it particularly difficult to find you.”

You’d been turning over all he’d just told you in your mind. “You said ‘partly’ why I was here?” you queried.

He nodded, “Yes. I also checked your medical records. You are young, healthy and fertile.”

Your mouth dropped open at the implication.

He said, quite matter-of-factly, hand sliding from your breast to your stomach, “In addition to fulfilling my needs, you’re going to have my child.”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

You were in his tent at the Camp, several days after his revelation. Things had progressed pretty much as they’d started. He’d schooled you in various other sexual positions, had eaten you out several times, and shown you various other things he liked you to do while you were sucking him off. He’d praised you as a quick learner, and continued to take you pretty much whenever he pleased.

He’d finally noticed how chafed you were, and had brought you a balm from the medics. It had helped a little, although not with your sore and over-used vagina and throat.

There were no shackles now; he knew you wouldn’t jeopardise your family by trying to escape. You were even allowed to venture outside. While you were in his tent, you wore a linen robe or more likely nothing at all. But you’d been given a black Kefta to wear when you did leave the tent, the Grisha woman who’d brought it to you giving you a strange and - possibly jealous? - look.

The black Kefta had confused you and so you’d questioned him about it, about why it wasn’t blue.

“Because you belong to me,” he’d answered shortly. “This proclaims that you’re off limits to other men.”

Now it made sense. You’d seen the stares and side-long looks as you walked through the Camp, had heard the whispers. One thought came to you, so you voiced it.

“Your little Sun Summoner had the same, I hear.”

He laughed, “Are you jealous?”

You vigorously shook your head, “No!”

“She wore it for the Winter Fete, that’s all,” he shrugs. “You get to wear yours all the time. And it’s different to hers. Much more splendid. Everyone now knows who you are.”

You glared at him, “And who am I exactly?”

“My consort.” He began undoing his fly, “Come here and kneel down.”

You knelt in front of him. It had taken very little time for you to learn that he liked you rather than him to free his cock from his trousers before you sucked him off, which is what you did now. He slid it into your mouth, as usual keeping his hand firmly on the back of your head so he was in control of you.

You’d also quickly learnt to make almost no noise, as you were no longer servicing him in private.

He moved back from you after a few minutes, leaving your mouth unexpectedly empty. However you’d noticed that in the past couple of days, blow jobs now usually ended in sex. He moved to the large chair in the corner of the tent, sat down and beckoned you over to him.

You went to him and he gestured to his lap. You obediently straddled him, taking his cock inside you as you did so. Moving on him, you saw his head going back, his eyes closing, jaw clenching and hands groping your breasts. He came fairly quickly, no doubt due to the partial blow job, and you slid off him, walking to the other side of the tent to pour a basin of warm water from the large metal jug sitting on a low flame, and a washcloth.

You ran the cloth over him, tucking him back into his uniform trousers before seeing to yourself. As you stood to take the basin away, he caught your wrist, looking intensely at you.

“You’ve learnt well, in a very short space of time. You’re being a very good girl.”

“I thought I was a woman?” you snarked, and he laughed, “Fine...woman, then.” He ran his thumb over the skin of your wrist, “You’ve been taking my cock so well, and you like it rough now, don’t you?”

You nodded dutifully, “Yes, moi soverennyi.” In fact, you didn’t particularly, but you had to keep this dangerous man happy.

“When is your monthly cycle due?” he suddenly asked you. Blushing deeply - this was not something you usually discussed with men - you answered, “About 10 days’ time.” “Make sure to keep track,” he instructed you, “it shouldn’t take long for you to get with child.”

You could believe it. Since you’d been brought to him, he’d been on you constantly. You felt as if you were permanently hobbling around; in addition to oral sex, he usually fucked you three or four times a day, which, according to more gossip you’d heard in the past, was not usual except maybe between newlyweds on their honeymoon. Which you & he definitely were not.

But you’d surprised yourself by having some kind of feelings for him. You were in fact jealous of his ‘little Sun Summoner’ as you called her, although he’d confided to you that they’d never had sex. He also told you that while he had felt a connection with her, she’d ruined that when she’d run off and disappeared from his life.

You’d asked him what he’d do if she returned, and he’d shrugged, “Nothing. She is dead to me.” But you wondered if that was true, or if you’d be cast aside for her.

You seemed to have accepted that you’d be with him for a lot longer than you’d initially expected. Especially if you did become pregnant. He had become more tender with you lately, kissing you when you least expected it or running his fingers down your cheek. One morning, you’d awoken to find him gazing at you and stroking some strands of hair off your face.

But he could still be arrogant, harsh and demanding, meaning that you did your best to keep him pleasured. He would still take you without warning; he’d once shoved you up against the wall of an empty corridor in the Little Palace, undoing your trousers, moving your underwear aside and pushing inside you right then and there. He’d been thrusting into you like a madman, and as usual you felt like it went on forever. You were petrified that someone would see or hear the two of you, in fact you still weren’t sure they hadn’t. But you’d acquiesced as always, and let him have his way with you.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Ten days later, he asked if your period had started. You confirmed that it had, that morning. “Well, we shall have to try even harder, shall we not?” Inwardly, you groaned. You definitely wouldn’t be able to walk if that was the case.

He didn’t leave you alone even for those few days, just carried on fucking you when the notion took him. His stamina was quite impressive. He’d even left a strategy meeting he was attending a mere half hour after he’d had sex with you, spent 10 minutes rutting on you, before fixing his slightly dishevelled uniform and returning to his meeting.

He’d also had you brought over to the large tent where he and his senior men held these meetings. One of his men took you to a side entrance which led to a little area screened off from the main space, containing a plain table and chair.

He’d arrived a few moments later, striding over and bending you over the desk, putting his hand over your mouth and pushing roughly inside you from behind, grunting quietly and thrusting into you for some time. His mouth was next to your ear, and he gave his signature long low moan as he came. Then he was gone without one word spoken, before you could even stand up and turn round.

A few minutes later, the same Oprichnik who’d brought you over to the tent arrived, smirking, to take you back. His eyes had run over your body quite blatantly and when you arrived at your tent, you’d said, “Thank you. I’ll be sure to tell General Kirigan how interested you were in my well-being.” The smirk and roving eyes were instantly replaced with fear, and he hurried away from you.

You couldn’t deny Kirigan made it plain that he found you totally desirable, which understandably did wonders for your self-confidence.

However, this back-fired on you. You were now on nodding terms with Ivan, Kirigan’s second-in-command. He was another dangerous man, who you also wished to stay on the right side of. One evening, you were sipping at a small glass of kvas when Ivan came into the tent. He was looking for his commanding officer, who was in one of his interminable meetings.

You asked if he wished to wait for him, as he shouldn’t be long in returning. He accepted and also took a glass of kvas with you, growing more conversational as the time passed. He regaled you with tales of some of his & Kirigan’s exploits, and you’d been laughing at one he’d just told you when the Darkling came striding into the tent. Ivan leapt to his feet and stood at attention.

As he took in the scene before him, Kirigan scowled ferociously at both of you, barking out, “What’s this! I leave for an hour, and you’re sniffing and drooling round my woman like a dog in heat, Ivan?”

Ivan’s face reddened, and he shuffled his feet guiltily. Like most of the men, he found you very attractive. They all knew that Kirigan was fucking you, and he had in fact been thinking what a lucky bastard he was when the man himself had arrived.

“No, moi soverennyi! I assure you... I was waiting for you and I merely spoke of some of our past campaigns.” Kirigan sneered, “Which caused her to laugh? Is what we did so amusing?”

His glare turned to you, “Is it?!” You shook your head, “No... well, it was just Ivan mentioned that you happened to rip your trousers once when you...” but you stopped talking when you saw the expression on his face.

Ivan hastily took his leave, saying he would update him in the morning instead.

The Darkling looked at you with icy eyes. He took off his Kefta and threw it onto one of the chairs, and began unbuckling his trousers. “Take your clothes off, and get on the bed.”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Droit du seigneur

Warnings: noncon, fingering, oral, cuckolding (i guess)

This is dark!king!Thor x reader in an established relationship and explicit. 18+ only.

Summary: The king claims his right to the first night.

Note: A medieval king Thor fic because I couldn’t help myself. Also because @lokislastlove​ is insatiable.

I hope y’all enjoy!

Let me know what you think! (Like, reblog, reply, leave some words, a gif, nonsensical emojis)

The tables filled quickly with the rowdy weddings guests. Some familiar, others strangers. Even a peasant’s wedding could draw the hungry and ale-starved for miles around. The lord had offered a boar for the event and roasted hare and chicken filled out the platters. It was a meal unlike any you expected at your very own wedding.

You sat at the head of the long table with your new husband, Garold. His father was a smith and he expected to take on the hammer when the time came. It was a step up for any farmer’s daughter. You wouldn’t have to work the land, nor would your children. They could learn their father’s craft or hope for a marriage even better than your own.

You were nervous. You had been for days. Garold was pleasant and sweet but to think tomorrow would see you as a real wife. It was a lot. You’d be a mother yourself soon enough just like the woman who had helped you into your dyed skirts that morning. The one who smiled at you through your vows as you looked around in doubt.

Garold squeezed your hand as it rested against the edge of the table. You dropped the morsel of chicken you’d forgotten about and smiled at him. He smiled back as you wiped your fingers on a cloth.

“Did I not tell you how splendid you look?” He asked.

“Only a dozen times,” You inhaled as you tried to settle your nerves. “Though I do not complain for it.” 

At the end of the third table, a group of men drank and shouted in ribaldry. Like many of the guests, you’d never seen them until that day. They’d be gone before the morning, you were certain. 

The sky dimmed and you fidgeted on the bench. Your father stood and called for the gifts; the last ritual of the day. Your mother came forward first, your dowry carefully announced and already awaiting you in your new homestead. Then Garold’s parents presented a set of silver dishes. Then several neighbours prized you with livestock and other homely goods. Several drifters offered their coin or some whittled figure.

The process was tedious and you found your voice hoarse from thanking your guests over and over. Garold yawned and shifted beside you. The tables weren’t so loud as before as the drink and time began to wear upon the diners as they picked at bare bones and the last dregs of ale.

A single figure walked up between the second and third table. He wore a plain black cloak and stood before you and your husband patiently. The crowd hushed as they noticed the wraith-like man.

Garold straightened up and nodded to the man. "Sir."

"My master did not want his gift to go forgotten," The man said as he pulled out a purse that jingled. "Gold and good tidings to the man and wife."

"Many thanks," Garold said as you smiled at the stranger. "Your master?"

Another figure rose. A taller man with wide shoulders and golden hair combed into a tie. He walked proudly forward and a tension filled the air as whispers began. You'd noticed the man several times throughout the night. His eyes were often pointed in your direction despite the distance and his voice had risen above others in booming laughs.

"Yes, his majesty hopes you are very happy and would bless your future family." The man continued as the other approached.

"You might desist, Fandral," The large man neared. "I might send my well wishes myself."

You tried to hold your smile but the way the man, the king, looked in your direction had you squirming. A man had never looked at you like that.

“Your majesty,” Garold pulled you up to your feet as he bowed awkwardly and you attempted a curtsy. “You would attend our wedding?”

“I was at the Lord of Montern’s castle and I heard word there was a celebration. I can never turn my nose up at festivities.” The king declared as every guest rose. 

Two men walked up between tables as your other guests watched in communal shock.

“My wife and I thank you, your majesty,” Garold trembled nervously as his hand lingered on your arm. “And we hope you are contented in our fare.”

“Most excellent. A king can always find delight at a wedding.” King Thor of Asgardia smirked. “As decreed by law, he is owed proper accommodations; ale, board, and that fragrant bread. As fine as any meal.”

“Your majesty,” Garold nodded proudly.

“And as it has also been written, a king might claim his right to the first night.” All went quiet and you felt as if you would choke. You blinked.

“I don’t-- your majesty, I think I misunderstand.” Garold said.

“As I am here to see your union, I, as your king, may expect to bless it.” He tilted his head as Garold’s grip grew firm on your arm. “That he might see the bride to her first night in service.”

“It is an old law,” Your husband said. “I would think it forgotten.”

“But it is ever written,” Thor countered. “And I did travel far to see you wed and would require comfort for the night. I am you king and it is still the law.”

You looked at Garold as you realised what the king meant. You frowned as you knew there would be no argument.

“This can’t--” You whispered but you lost as your husband drew away, unable to meet your eye. “No,” You spoke louder, “No, you can’t.”

"I can't?" The king chuckled and signaled with two fingers.

The two men who loomed by the tables came forward. As they approached you cowered. You were seized by both arms as you tried to retreat. You were dragged around the table as you called out to Garold.

"Good man," Thor called to your husband. "I would require a bed for the night as well. You would show me to my lodgings at once."

"I…" Garold wrung his hands and swayed. "I must remain and see to the rest of my guests, my-my-my cousin, Godwin, will show you to… to it."

You watched the skinny boy, Garold's own apprentice in the smithy. The slender adolescent made the king seem even bigger as he neared. Your husband gestured him away and still would not meet your gaze. 

"Garold!" You cried out as you were turned away. "Garold, please you must--"

"Go." Garold hissed. "Quietly, woman." He blinked as his nostrils flared and he stared at the tables of guests. "Now."

"Be calm, dear," The king bent to whisper to you as he slapped your ass lasciviously. "You will not be calling his name upon the morrow."

You squeaked and stumbled as his men wrenched you forward. Thor's hand rescinded as he chuckled. Godwin glanced over his shoulder every other step as he led the men past your father's barn.

You kicked as you got closer to the house Garold had built after his proposal. The furniture was crafted by the men in his family and all was ready for your domesticity. 

Thor shouldered past his men and Godwin barely cleared his path. The king opened the door and stopped to look back. He flicked away your husband's cousin with two fingers then snapped them to beckon his men forward. 

"Stake your watch here," Thor bid. "Fandral, send to Lord Montern that I shall return with the sun. I shall try to be…" He grabbed your arm and nearly took you off your feet. "Timely, but no promises." 

He shoved you ahead of him and snapped the door shut swiftly. You struggled to break free of his grasp and he easily spun you to face him. He clung to both your arms as he squeezed tightly.

"I watched you all night. It is so endearing how you gaze at your commoner husband." He sneered. "But I thought your touch better suited a king."

"Please, your majesty, I am a smith's wife. I vowed to serve him and no other."

"You are sworn first to your God and king. It is written that my will is that of God." He bent to look in the face. "So you are bound to me above all."

"Please," You quavered.

"Come on," He threw you back, "The bedchamber."

You staggered onward, your legs threatening to crumple with each step. You fell against the door and your hand slipped past the handle. You couldn't go on, you couldn't. 

The king's boots caused the floor to groan and he pressed himself to you. He reached to handle and lifted it. The door moved and you were only kept from tipping over as Thor's arm wrapped around you.

"You are… defiant. Especially for a peasant." He remarked as he urged you on, the door shut with a metal clink. "I've attended the marriages of dukes, earls, and even princes and not one bride had caught my eye as you have."

"I don't-- I don't understand--" You tore away and turned on your heel. 

"I will help you understand." He grinned. "You may begin by undressing."

He untied the neck of his cloak and swept it away. He draped it over the bench against the wall and sat. He lifted his foot onto his knee and began to unlace his boot.

"Let me tell you about myself, dear," He pulled loose the ties. "I do not often repeat myself and when I do, I am not so kind as the first time."

He dropped his boot onto the floor and switched legs. You bent and slipped your slippers off. They were hand-sewn by your mother.

You stood and swayed on your feet. You could not unlace your dress upon your own. You hesitated and reached helplessly over your shoulders.

"Come," He unbuckled his belt and placed it aside as he beckoned you near. "I will help." You sniffed and took your first shaky step. "There is much I shall help you with… that I must guide you in."

He turned you and tugged at the back of your dress until it slackened.

"Tell me, has your husband even kissed you yet?"

"Your majesty…" You breathed. "Just upon the cheek."

"I always heard peasants lived as animals," You dress drooped forward and you drew away. "What else would you do without gold?"

You were quiet, unsure how to answer. You let your bodice slump and you shimmied out of your skirts. You folded your dress over the chest along the other wall. You shed your petticoat and rolled your stockings down your leg. You wore only the short shift that ended just below your ass.

"That too," He said. "The longer you play at this, the longer I will play with you, dear."

You raised your chin and swallowed. You bunched the fabric of your shift and ripped it over your head. You tossed it aside and glared at him as your heart raced. To be bare in front of a man, in front of a king…

"I realise," He rose and pushed down his trousers. He piled them on his tunic and ran his hand over the crotch if his shorts. "You are unused to the presence of a king, the respects owed. I daresay you've rarely stood near a measly earl. Even so, I do trust you can listen. Why, dear, nobility does hunger for obedience over niceties."

"Your majesty," You gritted through your teeth. Perhaps if you bided him with bitten tongue, it might pass swifter.

"To think a woman should enter a marriage and not know what pleasures should be found in a marital bed," He shoved his shorts down and your eyes went to the ceiling. "You will thank me for I have no doubt that fool you call your husband will disappoint you for the rest of your life."

He neared and brushed by you. His hand grazed your hip as he did. You turned as he climbed up on the bed and fell onto his back. His thick cock bobbed and you couldn't help but stare. 

"On the bed," He wriggled as he settled onto the mattress. 

You went to the bed and got up on your knees. He looked at you and snickered.

"On your feet. Come, stand over me." He waited as you stood on the bed and he grasped your ankle. "Here." He patted beside his head.

You paused and stared as you pushed your legs together. If you did as he said, he would see all of you; more than anyone ever had. 

"Shall I repeat myself?" He asked dangerously. 

You shuddered and stepped forward. You caught yourself against the wall as you lifted you foot over his head and faced the top of the bed. 

"Down. To your knees." He commanded.

You gulped and reached to brace yourself with the wall. You got down and felt his breath along your thigh. You winced and he caught your hips.

"I would taste you… I wonder if you taste as sweet as a duchess." He purred as his hand slid to your thighs and he pulled you lower. "Perhaps, sweeter."

He forced you down until his hot breath was on your cunt and you were startled by the coolness that dipped between your folds. He purred and sent a buzz through you. He dragged his tongue up and down your sex as his hands clung to your thighs. You pushed on the low frame of the bed but could not get away from him.

His fingers spread over your thigh as his other hand gripped your hips and he rocked you. The messy noise of his lapping encased you in heat and you closed your eyes in shame. It shouldn't have felt so good. Nothing had ever felt that good.

He hummed and your thighs shook as you felt an odd tickle in your stomach. You gripped the bed frame as your other hand went to his hair and your fingers entwined in his thick locks. You mewled pathetically as you failed to fight the winding spring inside of you.

You let out a raspy moan and pushed your head back. Your breath caught in your throat as you went silent and a tingling wave flowed down your spine and legs. The sudden release left you weak and panting as you hunch over the head board.

Thor nudged you back and wiggled his head out from between your legs. He looked up at you as he licked his lips and purred.

"Sweet indeed," He caressed your sides. "Move back, kitten. Down by my legs."

You blinked at him, stunned, and he urged you off of him. You got to your knees, unsteadily, and swung your leg back. You numbly moved down the mattress and nearly fell between his legs. He chuckled as you righted yourself, your eyes floating above him as you tried not to look.

"Put your hand on me, kitten," Hi hand crawled down his stomach and his fingertips danced along his pelvis. "I will tell you how to do it."

You batted your lashes and willed yourself to listen. Let it be over quickly then you could go back to Garold. Garold! How would you face him after this? Would he want you still? Yet, his resistance had been paltry… but what could you say to a king?

Your fingers brushed the smooth skin of the king's member and your eyes were drawn down without thought. You closed your hand around his thick girth and he sighed. His hand slapped the bed beside him.

"Very good, kitten," He goaded. "Now just move your hand up and down, hold me firmly so I do not slip."

You shivered and slid you hand down his length and back up. He spasmed with a grunt. You stopped and he peered down at you. 

"You may proceed until I say otherwise, sweet maiden." He commanded and you recoiled at the pet name. Maiden but not for long.

Your hand moved down again, then up, down, up, down. He twitched in your grasp and you felt the dampness between your legs thicken. Your core thrummed as you watched the motion of your hand.

"Faster. Hold me tighter," He bid in a snarl-like voice. "That's it, kitten. I will show you how to please your husband." He reached down to wrap his hands around yours and lead you. "Though I think you might please me best."

He urged you on and on and then abruptly stopped. He tore your hand from his member as his chest puffed and he pushed his head down in great strain. Slowly he exhaled.

"Very close, my sweet maiden," He intoned. "But I will not be finished with you so quick."

His hands brushed over his pelvis as he wiggled his hips. He raised his arms and bent them behind his head.

"Come over me again," He said. "Lower yourself until I am sheathed in you."

Your eyes rounded and you gaped at him. 

"Would you rather I have your mouth first?" He taunted.

You snapped your mouth shut and stood as unevenly as before. You moved your feet on either side of him and eased onto your knees. He tip prodded your cunt and sent a thrill through you.

"You will put me inside of you, kitten," He snickered. "Slowly if you dislike pain."

You lifted yourself and reached below you. You grasped his member and angled it up against your folds and slid it back to your entrance. You bent your legs as he poked against you painfully. 

You stretched around him and cried out as just his head felt too much. He jerked his hips below you, watching you with his cool blue eyes as your face contorted.

"More." He said plainly. "Until you have me completely."

You whimpered and sank down on him further. You exclaimed as you constricted around him, unable to go any deeper.

He pulled his hands out from beneath his head and gripped your hips. He forced you down until you hollered. You fell forward weakly but he held himself inside of you.

"Sit up," He ordered. "You can do it, kitten."

"It hurts…" You muttered as you trembled but did as he said. "Please…"

"It won't for long," His thumbs ran along your skin and he tilted your hips so he poked deeper. "Move like this."

You followed his motion and rocked atop him slowly. Your bud rubbed against his pelvis and nipped at the agony within. Your walls slickened around him and his hand drifted up your stomach.

"Just like that," He purred. "You might go faster as you see fit."

He cupped your tits and flicked your nipples with his thumbs. His eyes followed his hands and then lingered on the joining of your bodies. You grabbed his thick forearms as you sped up, chasing the cloud that had begun to dull the pain.

"Mmm, oh they did speak true when they said you peasants were little more than animals," He growled. "Look at you, kitten."

You groaned and but your lip as you tried to ignore him. You just wanted the release which dangled before you. Your grip tightened on his arms and you bucked atop him frantically. You were almost there.

"Whoa," He twisted his arms from your grasp and stilled your hips. "Naughty kitten."

He lifted you off of him until you were on your knees.

"Turn around," He directed.

You got once more to your feet. Your body seemed to move on its own whim as you turned and squatted over him again. He drew you back and guided his member back to your entrance. He impaled you entirely and let out a long groan. Your legs strained as you tried to keep your balance.

He lifted you then brought you back down. You moaned as he glided in and out of you. You reached down to lean on your hands as he led your body and bounced you a top him, your flesh slapping loudly. He groaned as his hands slipped to your ass and your muscles burned as you carried the motion, your climax rising even quicker than before.

You could barely keep going as you grasped the heavenly release within and your core bloomed. You let out a beastly snarl and sped up as you rode out the peak and slowed as you struggled to catch your breath. Thor kept one hand on your ass as his other went to your hip and he held you down, your walls clenching around him hungrily.

He pushed his hands in the crook of your bent legs and drew you back to lay against him. He turned you onto your side as he hooked his arm under your knee and his other arm wrapped around you from below. He thrust into you without relent, his sweaty torso flush to your back. 

His hand covered your tit and he squeezed as he sped up and a deep growl began in his chest. You clawed at his hand and arched your back as he pounded into you. You could feel it again, that magical sensation that swelled within you. You cried out as you were once more flooded with ecstasy.

His motion turned to deep, jutting thrusts and he held you tighter as he pushed your leg even higher. Your muscles tensed and he snarled against the crown of your head. He grunted as he quaked and you felt a new warmth within you, this one slicker. 

He spasmed and slowed until he was still. He went limp as he let your leg fall and he draped his arm over you as his hot breath fluttered over you. He hummed as he inhaled your scent, the air thick with sweat. He nuzzled your head and rolled his hips until you murmured.

“Sweet little wife, aren’t you?” He whispered. “But not very loyal.”

[ejzah]

A/N: And now for the comfort aspect of this story. And some more angst.

***

Where It Hurts Most, Part 6

“Kensi, is everyone alright? Did you find Deeks?” Fatima asked in Kensi’s ear, bringing her back to the present.

“Yeah, we found, found him and we’re all fine,” she told Fatima, gently releasing Deeks to take a step away. “But Deeks does need to see a doctor. He, uh, he has some facial trauma and possibly other injuries.”

“Oh, thank goodness.” Fatima let out a hefty sigh. “Ok, I’ll call ahead and let the the ER to expect you guys. Paramedics should also be on the seen in about five minutes too.”

“Thanks, Fatima,” Kensi said gratefully. When she turned around again, Deeks was halfway across the room.

Several additional agents and police were starting to arrive and she could only guess how overwhelmed he felt. Although he didn’t have any obviously severe injuries, Kensi noticed he moved slowly.

As she headed towards Deeks, she noticed Kessler was stirring. He lifted his head just enough to catch her eye. She let her gaze sweep over him as a paramedic examined his knee.

“Have fun learning to walk on that again,” she said coldly. It was a harsh, cruel comment, but she didn’t feel a hint of guilt. Kessler growled something unintelligible, which she ignored in favor of hurrying to Deeks, and slipping her arm around his back.

There were more paramedics waiting and when Deeks noticed them, he held back, his hand tightening on Kensi’s arm.

“I don’t want them to touch me,” he said adamantly.

“You don’t have to.” She’d make sure no one objected.

“Kens,” Callen called out, quickly walking towards them. “I need a statement before you leave the scene. Deeks can give his after he gets checked out the hospital.”

Kensi gave the barest description she could, using as clinical of terminology as she could, conscious of Deeks’ presence. When she was finished, Callen let her go without question.

Deeks slumped in his seat a few minutes after Kensi started driving, exhaustion clear in his face. Every time he would begin to doze off, he’d jerk awake after a few seconds.

The third time it happened, Kensi reached across the console to take his hand. She squeezed it tightly and Deeks glanced over with a grateful look.

***

When they reached the ER, Kensi had Deeks sit while she checked him in at the front desk. As promised, they had a cubicle waiting for Deeks and Kensi silently thanked Fatima again. For her own peace of mind, she needed to know that he was alright, and she could tell that Deeks’ anxiety was increasing with every second.

By the time he was safely ensconced in the tiny cubicle, his legs were vibrating, right foot silently tapping against the linoleum.

His face looked significantly worse under the bright lights, each bruise, cut, and abrasion highlighted. His chin was blood, reminding Kensi of that horrible day years ago. A shudder ran through her and she reached for Deeks, this time for her own comfort.

She touched his temple, the unbloodied side, carding her fingers through his hair. It was tangled with blood and dirt, but she didn’t care.

“That feels nice,” Deeks whispered, leaning into her touch. He covered her hand for a moment, then shook his bangs out of his eyes, glancing up at her with a tired smile that was tinged with sadness.

The curtain to the cubicle slid open then, revealing a familiar face.

“Dr. Bartholomew,” Deeks said, quickly straightening with a wince.

“Mr. Deeks, Agent Blye,” he greeted them, nodding to Kensi.

Kensi felt Deeks relieve ever so slightly, some of the tension leaving his body. Dr. Charles Bartholomew had treated Deeks a few times over the years so knew some of Deeks’ medial history, if a highly redacted version.

“I wish I could say it’s good to see you…” Deeks shrugged and trailed off, giving his best attempt at a joke at the moment. Dr. Bartholomew allowed a half smirk, nodding in understanding.

“Same here. Now, you want to give me a rundown?” He addressed the question to Deeks, but glanced at Kensi as well.

“I, uh, might have some bruised ribs, my left shoulder is kind of sore, and then there’s this,” Deeks answered, gesturing to his face and head as a whole.

“And your wrists,” Kensi added quietly. “He was bound with restraints and zip ties for several hours.

“Uh-huh. Somebody certainly had it out for you Deeks,” Bartholomew observed quietly as he pulled on gloves and gently began pressing his fingers along Deeks’ hairline. His tone was non-judgments, only sympathetic.

“You could say that,” Deeks agreed darkly. He was silent for most of the examination unless asked a direct question. He flinched again when Bartholomew rolled his sleeves back to check his wrists.

After giving Deeks a couple of liquid stitches for the larger gash in his temple, Dr. Bartholomew slid his rolling stool back a few feet, and scrawled a few things down on a script pad.

“I’m going to prescribe an antibiotic and some pain medication. I know you’re probably not going to fill the second, but it’s there if you need it.” His brow rose a tad sardonically as he held out the prescription orders. Kensi accepted them, tucking both into her pocket.

“I didn’t see any signs of damage to your teeth or jaw, but I’d still like you to see your dentist or a orthodontic specialist,” he continued. Kensi noticed how careful he was to avoid the word trauma this entire time. “Given your history, I just want to make sure everything’s still in place.”

“Got it,” Deeks agreed, clenching his jaw. He’d handled the oral examination well, though he’d held Kensi’s hand the entire time, grip so tight her fingers ached.

“Good. I’m going to have a nurse bandage your wrists and give you a shot of antibiotics, then you should be good to go.”

“Thanks, Doctor.”

“No problem. Take care, Deeks. I hope I don’t see you for a while.”

A nurse came along a few minutes after Dr. Bartholomew left. She set up a tray of implements and bandages without looking at Deeks. She abruptly grabbed Deeks wrist and he jerked out of her grasp, much like he had with Kensi.

“Sir, I need to bandage your wrists,” she told him sharply. “Hold still.”

“No,” Deeks said, shaking his head as he pushed himself off the hospital bed.

“Deeks,” Kensi murmured, stepping between him and the nurse. “It’s ok.”

“Don’t touch me,” he snapped, nearly pressing himself against the wall as the nurse descended on him. She could see instinct and fear were taking over.

“If you don’t cooperate, I’ll be forced to call security,” the nurse threatened.

“Lisa, is everything alright?” A soft voice inquired as the curtain around Deeks’ bed was pushed aside yet again. Lisa spun around to face the young woman, dressed in light blue scrubs and a headscarf, who entered the room. “Would like me to take over, Lisa?” I think Dr. Favor needs assistance in room 8.”

Nurse Lisa gave the second woman a glare, but left without comment.

“My name is Ifrah,” the younger nurse introduced herself in that same soft tone. “Is it alright if I take care of you, Mr. Deeks?”

After a moment, Deeks reluctantly nodded and sat back down. His body was fully tense again and Kensi could tell it was taking all of his willpower stay out.

Ifrah seemed well aware of this and made sure to tell Deeks exactly what she planned to do before she touched him. As Kensi held his other hand again, Ifrah began to clean his left wrist.

She talked about her teenage daughter who was starting driving lessons in a few weeks and the garden she was planting. It was mindless, but Deeks calmed under the soothing rhythm of her voice. Kensi felt his breathing slow as Ifrah carefully bandaged his wrists.

When she was done, she gave him a pat, and nodded to Kensi.

“You can check out when you’re ready,” she told Kensi.

“Thank you,” Kensi said fervently, gratefully. Ifrah just nodded and left as quietly as she’d come.

“Sorry about that,” Deeks apologized, rubbing a hand over his face and then eyeing the think bandages with distaste. “I don’t know what happened.”

“Baby, you don’t have anything to be sorry for. What you went through…we understand,” she finished simply.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course.” Deeks hesitated a moment and then slid his hand across the bed until he could twine his fingers through hers.

“Why didn’t you kill Kessler?” he murmured. “I mean, I’m not saying you should have, but I thought you’d want him gone permanently.”

Kensi drew in a long breath.

“I wanted to,” she admitted. “I think I planned to. Up until the moment I shot him, I wanted to kill Kessler more than anything.” She shrugged, avoiding Deeks eyes for a moment. “But as I was standing there and I saw what he’d done to you, what he planned to do to you, and everything else he’s done to us, I decided killing him was too easy.”

She heard Deeks inhale sharply and she purposely met his gaze.

“He doesn’t deserve to get off that easy. Kessler deserves every moment of pain and punishment from now on and I want to be there to make sure it happens.”

“What if he gets out again sometime?” He shook his head slowly, eyes filled with worry. “I don’t think I could take this again.”

“It won’t,” Kensi assured him. “We’ll make sure it doesn’t. After what he did today, everyone on this team will use all their power to make sure Kessler never has the chance to hurt us again.”

“Ok,” Deeks said, his voice barely more than a whisper. Kensi ran her fingers through his hair again and pulled him towards her.

“We’re free, Deeks,” she said, pressing their foreheads together. He made a sound that was halfway between a laugh and a sob and tilted her chin up to kiss her. It was a kiss filled with relief, the remnants of pain, and more hope than Kensi had felt in months. “We’re free,” she repeated, holding Deeks closer.

***

A/N: And I think that’s it, guys! I hope this was a satisfying ending for you all. Thanks so much for your enthusiastic and lovely response to this story, which was somewhat outside my normal range.

[welllpthisishappening]

It all kind of happens in slow motion.

One second, Emma hears the crack of the bat and the requisite roar of the crowd, and the next her eyes have widened to a size most scientists would likely advise against. Because, standing at home plate, that same home plate multiple baseball players are sprinting toward, is her kid. More or less waiting to be run over. That is, of course, until Killian Jones.

———

Word Count: 4.1K Rating: Flufffy fluff fluff of the fluffiest variety AN: Writing has been something of a legitimate challenge for me in the last few weeks, but earlier this week @ohmightydevviepuu sent a link to this tweet, tagged me, and said what I basically took as an unspoken prompt. Like, you’re going to send me video of a bat boy getting scooped up at home by a player in the middle of the game and then think I won’t write about it? Not possible. Even with the aforementioned writing challenges. Nothing stands a chance against my love of baseball. Here’s hoping the Yankees turn it around in the second half. Neither Aaron Judge or I deserve the season we’ve had so far.

———

Biologically speaking, Emma Swan is perfectly aware that the current positioning of her heart is more or less impossible. 

Stuck somewhere between the back of her throat and the pit of her stomach, it makes her all too aware of the now-empty chasm in her chest, stretching out toward her arms and threatening the structural integrity of her lungs, neither of which appear all that intent on working properly. Oxygen is a luxury not currently afforded to her capillaries. Instead, nerves mix with anxiety and the telltale flush of adrenaline that probably also makes her look relatively crazy because her pupils are definitely dilated and she does not know nearly enough about science to be making any of these claims. 

Whatever, really. 

It feels like that ooze from that movie. FernGully, Emma thinks. With the fairies. She thinks they were fairies. She’s not entirely certain they were fairies. 

And the ooze was definitely oil, obviously. There was a message involved in that movie. Not one that she appreciated when she was seven and Tim Curry’s animated-oil voice sort of freaked her out. But, like, she gets it now. The environment, and everything. With or without fairies. With Robin Williams, though. 

She’s positive about that, at least. 

Robin Williams was definitely in that movie. 

Less positive about the ability of her heart to actually split itself in half, as it seems wont to do at the moment. So, as to make it easier when it inevitably soars out of her mouth and falls onto the scuffed-up clubhouse floor beneath her feet. Naturally, this will happen simultaneously. For maximum effect. 

Much like the fireworks currently exploding over the left-field bleachers. 

She’s not sure if fireworks do explode, actually. That seems dangerous. Likely to lead to injuries and sounds that don’t resemble the  oohs and ahhs a ballpark generally inspires. Explode probably isn’t the right word. Maybe something more like…detonate. 

No, that’s worse. Way worse. She’s got to learn more words. Find a thesaurus or a dictionary or—a fireworks expert would be ideal, honestly.

Someone who could give her a detailed description of the inner-workings of a Yankee Stadium pyrotechnics display on a Tuesday in July, enough words that Emma’s mind would still for a few moments, allowing her to catch her breath and reestablish a consistent heart rate, and both of those problems could also likely be solved by sitting down, but the chair to her left looks a little wobbly, and her legs appear to have minds of their own because science is rather quickly becoming a lie and—

“Is he alright?” She spins. Nearly falls over. Her knees are also awfully wobbly, that’s why. 

Despite all of that, and the overall circumference of her pupils, the voice doesn’t retreat. Doesn’t even flinch. Shows absolutely no signs of imminent stumbling. And that’s probably because the voice is a man, one who is in possession of world-class instinctual reactions, and his hair is still damp from his post-game shower and it absolutely makes her something of an atrocious mother to acknowledge that last thing as quickly as she does. 

His shirt sleeves are noticeably sticking to his biceps, so that helps too. 

Opening her mouth, Emma is going to say words that are both vaguely intelligent and passably accurate, absolving this Major League Baseball player of any of the guilt he so obviously feels. Which is just patently stupid, really. None of this was his fault. None of it was anyone’s fault, really. 

Except maybe the idiot who left his bat at that particular angle across home plate, but Emma’s an adrenaline expert these days and walk-offs are understandably exciting. First walk-offs more so. 

She’s happy for Scarlet, really. 

They won the game. 

Everything is fine. Great, even. She nearly jumps twenty-six feet in the air at the next boom of fireworks. 

The pinch between the Major League Baseball player’s eyebrows gets—

Pinchier. 

The little roll of skin draws Emma’s attention, effectively robbing her of the ability to respond like an almost-sane person, but she’s also still trying to rationalize why she can remember the words to several FernGully songs while also being unable to recall what flavor PopTart she had for breakfast earlier this week and she figures watching her kid nearly get run over by professional athletes approximately forty-two minutes before gives her a fairly reasonable excuse. 

For opening and closing her mouth no less than eight consecutive times. 

Like a goddamn fish. There were no fish in FernGully. Least not so far as she remembers. 

It’s entirely possible she squeaks on attempt number five. 

The Major League Baseball player’s eyebrows do not move. It’s equal parts frustrating and incredible to behold. 

“I should probably thank you, right?” Emma asks, not quite regretting the words immediately, but it’s awfully close. That gets her some movement. Of the eyebrow variety. One eyebrow, specifically. Arching up, it somehow still manages to pull her attention directly toward eyes that should be the star of their own marketing campaign. Not quite Yankee blue, but distractingly blue, and it takes everything in her not to huff as dramatically as she wants to. Once the athletic trainer is done with Henry, Emma is going to make him examine her lungs. Rationality rules the day. 

Major League Baseball player shakes his head. It’s dumb to call him that. She knows his name. Knows at least some of his history. Is still staring obnoxiously at his freakishly attractive face. 

Freakishly is kind of mean, too. As far as descriptions go. 

“Unnecessary,” he says, an undercurrent of worry still clear in the letters. Ducking his head, he takes a cautious step forward, almost as if he’s wary of what Emma will do, and she supposes that’s fair. What with the impressive vertical she’s in possession of these days. “Anyone would do that.” “I’m not sure they could, actually.”

At some point in this otherwise shitty experience of a night, Emma is vaguely confident something will go the way she wants it to. Aside from winning. She’s glad they won. Seriously. 

“No?” “No,” she echoes, and it’s not like she can feel him. A few feet of space separates them, so whatever heat appears to be wafting off the Major League Baseball player in front of her, with his damp hair, and stupid, stupid, stupid eyes is as impossible as any of the various impossibilities currently taking place within her person. 

And yet. 

He sticks his hand out. 

It’s disarmingly earnest. 

“Killian Jones,” he says, confidence replacing the nerves, and Emma begins to see why there are so many stories. And Twitter threads. Regarding his face and the potential for that face to date a variety of other attractive faces across at least four of the five boroughs. Somehow Emma doesn’t think Killian Jones, New York Yankees third baseman, is schlepping out to Staten Island for a date. 

Nor does she believe that Killian Jones, New York Yankees third baseman, has ever once let the word schlep pass through his conscious mind. 

She takes his hand. 

It is—

Surprisingly warm. And...not quite soft, that’d be impossible with the job he performs almost nightly. But the calluses on the pads of his fingers aren’t as rough as Emma expects, which also suggests she’s managed to ponder the overall texture of Killian Jones’s fingers in the last twelve point six seconds, and that’s not entirely true. What is true is that Ruby thinks Killian Jones is real good-looking and has determined that the phrase quite a catch is the pinnacle of humor, so, sure, Emma has possibly considered the possibility of paths crossing and intersecting, and her hand looks minuscule wrapped up in his. So, that’s something to think about later. 

Their arms move. Bob up and down as society dictates they should, and he’s smiling at her, and she’s trying not to look like a serial killer, straining to hear the voices behind the door, and it does not work. 

“Why do you think people are so consistently fascinated by fireworks?” If he’s surprised by her absolutely inane question, he doesn’t show it. That’s points. For what, Emma hasn’t totally decided yet, but it’s something, and it’s probably good, and they’re going to play that clip on loop for weeks. Longer, probably. 

Every goddamn day if the Yankees make the postseason. 

When the Yankees make the postseason. 

Her dad wouldn’t appreciate the buffer. Leaves room for loss, and that is not the Nolan way. Not when there are championships to win, and this was supposed to be the best possible time. Smack dab in the middle of the season, with the All-Star break looming, Henry would get to suit up as batboy for one game that didn’t mean much and wouldn’t draw too strong of a spotlight, no murmurs about nepotism by internet trolls who couldn’t possibly define the word with any sort of accuracy, but also like to shout about canceling and culture with an almost alarming sense of self-righteousness, so, of course, the whole thing was now blowing up in their face. 

Much like the goddamn fireworks. 

It wasn’t Will Scarlet’s fault. 

Wasn’t Henry’s fault, either. 

His job was to get the bats out of the field of play. Doing it while the field of play was still active was a mistake any kid could have made. Just so happens that it’s Emma’s kid, and the grandkid of the Yankees’ hitting coach, and that means something to the New York media and the New York fans, and if Killian Jones, New York Yankees third baseman with an arm that can make cross-field throws with ease, wasn’t also so quick-thinking and sure-footed, scooping Henry up as he crossed home plate and avoiding the ensuing swarm of players at home plate, all intent on celebrating Will Scarlet’s first-ever career walk-off, Emma can only imagine what would have happened. 

Trampled. Stepped on. Broken bones. Concussions. 

They’re checking Henry for a concussion now. He absolutely does not have a concussion. He was laughing while he was carried off the field. Like he hit the walk-off. 

Front office is absolutely petrified she’s going to sue them. 

The thought hadn’t even once crossed Emma’s mind. Plus, she’s sort of busy. Holding Killian Jones’s hand. His stupid, warm hand. 

“Bright colors,” he says, responding to a question Emma’s nearly forgotten about. Jumping is more challenging when his fingers tighten ever so slightly. “Flash, boom. Taps into baser instincts, I think.” “You think people’s base instinct is to enjoy explosions.” “Phrasing that as a statement makes me think you don’t agree with me.” “You didn’t want me to thank you,” Emma points out.

“Well, no,” he says, and the precise way his eyes drop does something specific to all of her instincts. Leaves her flush with a heat that reminds her of Fourth of July sparklers rather than any sort of massive explosion, and that’s not bad, per se, although it’s admittedly a little surprising. As is the slight uptick of precisely one side of his mouth. It takes her a moment to realize he’s smirking at her. And another for her subconscious to admit that it’s working as intended. Her shoulders drop half an inch. While Emma pulls her hand back to her side. “Thanking me suggests I did anything to warrant the thanks.” “Big words.” “For a dumb athlete, you mean.” “That wasn’t a question, either.” “No,” Killian repeats, “it wasn’t.” “I’d really like to thank you. I—Dad told him when to come out of the dugout, so he definitely knew the rules, but I think he was super worried about you tripping over the bat.”

The smirk becomes a full-blown smile. Which is no less than forty-seven thousand times more powerful. Equivalent to staring directly into a solar eclipse or gazing upon the dark side of the moon, and Emma should at least do some research before coming up with these internal examples. Basic Google searches would provide her with the necessary information. 

“That’s more or less what he told me, yeah.” Emma’s nose creases. “Talked your ear off after your daring rescue, huh?” “Keep complimenting me like this, and my ego won’t know what to do with it.”

She hopes she’s not blushing as much as it feels like she is. The state of Killian’s eyebrows and the precise curl of his lips make that seem unlikely. “Your reflexes are unparalleled.” “Something about big bucks and why I get paid them.” “Oh,” Emma laughs, unable to stop herself, and she doesn’t remember deciding to stop pacing, only that her knees appreciate it once she has, “you think you’re real funny, don’t you?” “I think I’m moderately funny, not the hero you’re suggesting I am—” “Oh, I never used the word hero.” “—And you never actually told me your name.”

“Because you don’t know who I am.” It’s not a question, either. Neither one of them mention that. 

“I do,” Killian concedes, “Henry was also fairly quick to mention exactly who he was and where his mother was sitting.” Emma’s nose is going to freeze in this position. “But I gave you my name, which makes it only fair that we’re all square and whatnot.” “Whatnot, huh?” “Yup.” He pops his lips on the letter. Which is also unfair. In, like, the grand scheme of the world. The black ooze that is not actually oil when used in this particular metaphor recedes. Leaves Emma with a chest cavity that is partially full of butterfly wings and the growing sense of anticipation that isn’t quite as nerve-wracking as it should be. Like she’s about to step into the batter’s box with two outs and runners in scoring position. She’s totally going to hit against the shift. Fluttering her fingers at her side, Emma doesn’t lift her hand. It doesn’t matter. 

Killian’s eyes drop. To the movement. And her. And part of her shies away from that because part of her has spent a lifetime tucked into a shadow that didn’t belong to her and doesn’t belong to Henry, but now there’s some joke about Peter Pan to be made because they live in an internet-age and Killian Jones has a very good face. So. Viral video, enter stage right. Starring Henry Swan, Killian Jones, and the inevitably uneven pitter-patter of Emma’s traitorous heart. 

“Emma Swan.” “I think you should sit down.”

“Why is that, exactly?” “I’m worried about your legs.”

Whatever noise she makes can’t quite be classified as a scoff. It hurts her throat too much. And it’s not a laugh, either. Even as the butterflies threaten to rise up in mutiny of Emma’s more rational feelings, and she gets the distinct impression that Killian is reading her mind. Trying very hard, at least. 

“Sounds like a line.” “Might be a line,” he admits, which draws another wholly inhuman sound out of Emma’s barely-functioning lungs. 

“Did he kick you on the lift?” Killian hums. “You’d kick too if you were just hauled off your feet, so I understand the reaction. What I’m more worried about is the inevitable bruise on my foot from the bat landing there.” “Ah shit, really?” “I’ve had worse.” “But not in 4K video that people will play on loop for the rest of the news cycle. If not longer.” Narrowing his eyes, Killian doesn’t immediately respond. Mind reading requires a modicum of focus, Emma assumes. Instead, he rests a hand on her shoulder, directing her toward the chair and ignoring the soft crack her left knee as it bends. “That’s what you’re worried about.” “Stop sounding so confident.” “I can only sound how I am, Swan.” “Oh, I’m not sure we’ve reached nickname status yet,” she mumbles, pushing down the soft rush of metaphorical insects doing their beset to soar out of her barely-parted lips. “But, yeah, I—I mean, don’t get me wrong, I was totally terrified in the moment.”

“Understandable. Grown men barrelling down the third-base line at your kid are a lot to take in.” She snorts. It’s not cute. Not dignified. Killian smirks. “Should you be concerned that the Scarlet was making such solid headway behind you? Are you exceedingly slow?” “I am league average.” “How fast can you get out of the box to first?” “I’ve never timed it.” “Liar, liar.” “Please don’t make a crack about my pants,” Killian says, “I won’t be able to cope.”

“Oh God, you think you’re charming, too.” “I’ve had no complaints.” “To your face, at least.”

Throwing his head back, the laugh that erupts out of him is not of volcano proportions. Of which there was also one in FernGully if Emma’s memory is to be trusted.  An arm circles his middle, stretching muscle and ensuring that Emma notices just how corded that same muscle is, the slight bend of his wrist leaving her off-kilter. When he meets her gaze, she swears his eyes are brighter. “Yeah, yeah, that’s true,” Killian concedes, “no one has flat out told me I was lacking charm to my face.” “This thanking you thing is going great.” “And I continue to not need thanks. Why are you worried about the video getting out there? Filmed in 4K like you suggest, at least we’ll all look great. Sharp pixels and whatnot.” “What do you know about pixels?” “You basically heard the extent just now.”

She’s getting better at laughing. The ooze has almost all but disappeared, Emma twirling a strand of hair around fingers that are intent on moving, and it’s an old habit. One Killian’s gaze catches on. Immediately. Quickly. Seriously, Emma needs a thesaurus. “Baseball’s always been my dad,” she says. “And that’s—well, we’ve lived this game, me and my mom, weekend series and West Coast swings, waiting up for him to get home because the flight got delayed, but Henry’s just a kid, getting thrown into this world because of his last name and who his family is? That sucks. Nothing was supposed to happen tonight.” “Nothing did happen.” “Because of you.” “I’d like to believe Scarlet, ridiculously fast as he might be, would not run over a small child,” Killian says. “And, uh, for the record and all that, I got a bad jump off first because I didn’t know if they were going to catch it in left. No one wants to get caught on the base paths.” “Yeah, that’d be embarrassing.”

He must hear the hitch in her voice because the next thing Emma realizes, her fingers are twisted back up in Killian’s, and she’s warm and falling and flying, and it’s good and weird, and the door swings open. 

They both jump.

So, that’s something. 

Rushing out quickly enough that he nearly trips over his own feet, Henry’s head leads the way and finds Emma’s stomach, a tangle of limbs, and overly-excited words, all of which rival the now-finished fireworks display in volume. 

It takes Henry about five and a half run-on sentences to notice Killian standing there. 

His eyes widen. His mouth drops. Killian grins. Emma tries very hard not to die. It only sort of works. 

She blames the faulty body parts she’s in possession of. 

“Killian,” Henry exclaims, clamoring back to his feet and nearly falling again in the process. Hands that belong to both Emma and Killian dart out, steadying Henry while their eyes meet over the top of his head. Killian winks. He tries. It’s more like a blink than anything. “Hi, hi! You did so good tonight! And we won, and I got to go on the field and—and, it was so,” Henry heaves a deep breath, “we were so good.”

Collective pronouns do something to Emma’s entire state of being. 

Flips it on an axis she hadn’t been aware previously existed until it almost feels as if this was the path they’d been directing themselves toward from the start. Her eyes flit toward Killian. Who is already watching her.��

“We did,” he nods, “maybe next time, though, you wait one extra second to grab Scarlet’s bat, ok?” Seeing her own nose scrunch reflected back on her kid is not the worst thing that’s ever happened to Emma. The vibrating phone in her back pocket, might be. 

It’s one-hundred percent, Ruby. 

“That’s what grandpa said too,” Henry grumbles, digging a toe of the cleats Emma’s mother bought him last week into the ground, “but I wanted to make sure you didn’t fall.”

Definitely dying, then. A systematic shut down of all necessary internal organs. It’s not as bad as Emma would have expected. 

Neither one of Killian’s knees crack when he bends. That seems heavy-handed. 

“And I don’t want you to fall either,” he says, “so we agree, right here, right now, not to let the other one fall, huh?” Emma holds her breath. Ignores the pinch in her lungs and the clearly unstable nature of both her mind and her heart, digging her nails into her palms. To ensure she isn’t tempted to haul Henry back toward her. Or push that one strand of hair away from Killian’s forehead. 

Henry nods. “Deal.”

They hook their pinkies together. 

It’s adorable and as endearingly charming as everything else Killian Jones, New York Yankees third baseman, has done since he walked into that hallway. Less so when her dad emerges from the office, the athletic trainer on his heels to not-so-quietly inform Killian that he can’t just blow off post-game like that, and the second wink is as bad as the first. 

She does her very best to memorize the movement. 

And the joy on Henry’s face the next morning when a box arrives on their doorstep, a genuine, game-worn Killian Jones jersey inside. She doesn’t notice the note at first, tucked between the cardboard and the tissue paper someone must have bought for him. He can’t have bought that tissue paper himself. He just—it’s unfathomable. 

Emma knows he bought the tissue paper himself. 

As clearly as she knows that those numbers in that particular order will lead to Killian Jones answering his phone and that her voice likely won’t shake when she replies to the question written in surprisingly loopy script. Which is why, Emma will argue, she does reply. In the affirmative. To several questions over the course of the remaining season, and they don’t star in any more viral videos, but there are a few pictures once they clinch the division. 

Drops of champagne cling to the tips of Emma’s eyelashes and the ends of Killian’s hair, hands on her waist that blaze a quick path up her back and around her middle, and she has to tilt her head up to get the right angles. Of lips. While they kiss in the middle of the clubhouse, the hat someone forced onto Emma’s head falling and it’s impossible to hear over the sound of celebratory fireworks, but she can somehow still hear Henry’s laugh ringing out from the general area near Scarlet’s locker, and his jersey collection is growing at an impressive rate. 

No one can withstand the overall cuteness of him. 

Emma included. Emma, especially. 

Sometimes she worries she’s so happy she’ll burst, unable to contain the sort of emotion her body is still acclimating itself to. But then she realizes just how dumb that is and happiness cannot possibly be quantified, and her head is buzzing enough from champagne that she nearly misses Killian when he says, “people love the bright spots, Swan.” It’s not the most romantic thing he’s told her. Doesn’t crack the top five, quite frankly. She swoons all the same. With her kid laughing and her team winning and that’s about all the sentiment she’s willing to acknowledge before her tongue is in Killian’s mouth. He groans. She grins. 

And he’d been right about the video. It wasn’t the embarrassment Emma worried it could be. Was mostly relegated to the corners of the internet set aside for formerly popular content as soon as the season ended, spoken about only in fond recollection as the other seasons went on and the wins kept coming and all three of them stand on a parade float with the World Series trophy a few dozen feet away, several Novembers after that first game. 

It’s a Thursday afternoon, then. 

And yet Emma never entirely forgets. What the video meant and what it did and she’s not remotely surprised when it finds its way back to the forefront of the sports zeitgeist on a Wednesday in July. Most mentions come with similar taglines and messages. Something about feeling our age and wanna feel old because that bot boy, David Nolan’s grandson, Killian Jones’s stepson, he’s getting drafted now. 

Got drafted, technically. 

Third round, video of the soon-to-be third baseman for the San Diego Padres makes the internet circuits and garners plenty of interest. It’s not the most exciting video, though. Henry just hugs his family. Who hug tightly back. 

What is more exciting is the box that arrives on Emma and Killian’s doorstep. With a note that eventually earns a frame next to the last one and a wholly official, game-worn jersey that has a noticeable streak of dirt across the left sleeve. From sliding head-first into home plate.  

[imagineabrighterworld]

A/N: I fought tooth and nail for this prompt so I hope you like it anon 👀

—

Dabi had left the Nightscape for several reasons.

For better scenery, for less screaming, for.. for a third reason, and to escape his crazy as fuck ex girlfriend who never seemed to get the point that they were done. She was a phase, she wasn’t the endgame.

Did she get that as he tossed her ass out of his apartment? No, she just came back with a lighter to set his home ablaze. But the woman didn't realize he controlled flames as easily as he did breathing.

So he left. He packed a few things, clothes and whatever currency the humans were using nowadays and went up to the world beyond. His father was one of the lords of the Nightscape, but he didn't need to worry about slipping past him, Dabi was thought to be dead for ages.

More like “Touya” had been dead for ages, but that was a clusterfuck of different issues he didn't care to unfold.

Living above ground had added perks beyond escaping a crazy ex and not being surrounded by shades and wraiths on the daily. He could take on the form of a true human, not the horned and fanged form he usually wore. His tail was gone, and his scars and staples were replaced with tattoos and piercings, but he grew used to his new form very quickly.

In the human world, humans had long since developed quirks, so his flames were not an oddity. He was thankful for them when he was questioned about how he got his scars, scars that would occasionally show through his glamour. It was an easy answer, his body couldn't handle his “quirk”. People gave him sad eyes and let him go.

Easy.

What he did struggle with was the occasional demon hunter nearly tracking him down, but he always managed to turn their eye the other way. Was it testing the line choosing to live so close to a school that trained demon hunters? Yes, but he was always good at magic, a simple glamour always did the trick.

When he scored a job at a coffee shop, he was pleased to see it was a simple transaction kind of job. No one would be able to ask him why his eyes were constantly rivaling the blue of his flames or why a phantom tail would lash out and occasionally spill the row of cups behind him.

He pegged it as a ghost haunting the shop, and so it became a little inside joke within the workers ranks and some of the shop's patrons.

Opening on a rainy Wednesday, he looks around the room before lighting the candles at the tables with a flame on his pinkie finger. Setting up the tables and scooting in the chairs, he walks back to the counter and sets up the machines when the door rings, signalling someone had entered.

“Welcome.” He rolls out in a soft purr, a habit from years of toying with his playthings as an incubus. Eventually he would get rid of the habit. “What can I get for you today?” He turns around.

You were soaking wet with a satchel above your head, you were shivering and looking at the coffee machines as if they were god sent.

You looked adorable.

He leans on the counter with a growing smile. “Wet out there isn't it?”

Your gaze snaps to him. Your eyes were a soft mahogany color, reminding him of a tree. It wasn't the most romantic thing he could come up with, but trees were also very rare to find in the Nightscape, so he supposed it was based on your point of view. “C-Coffee. Please.”

“Sure thing babe, what kind?”

“A mocha cappuccino with three shots of espresso.”

He quirks a brow as he types in your order. “Three?”

“I usually get five but my doctor told me I need to cut down.”

“How about you aim for two?”

“I don't think I’d survive that loss sir.”

He chuckles. “Sir?” He asks as he tells you the price of your drink, accepting your soggy wad of cash and giving you your change once the transaction was complete. “Well madam, your drink will be out shortly, take some napkins to dry up, they’re by the sugar.”

He spots a small blush on your face as you go to the condiments counter. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” He prepares your drink as he hears you pluck a plethora of napkins out of their container. Small curses are all he hears as you open your bag, he hears the clicking of latches and the zipping of zippers. You scuttle past the counter and stop in front of the register again.

“Do you have a bathroom? My bag is drenched..”

He brings you your drink and tilts his head as he debates your question. A bathroom wouldn't solve the water issue, you just thought it would.

Dabi places your drink on the counter and holds his hand out. “I can dry your bag.”

You smile, adjusting your glasses in the mean time. “You have a wind quirk?”

“I'm not a blowdryer.” He grins. “But I can still dry it for you.”

You debate his words, looking down at your soggy satchel that was only getting worse as time passed. You hand him the bag with an accepting sigh. “Please.”

He takes your bag and lights his hands on fire. You nearly scream before he speaks up. “I can control my fire, this one won’t burn anything, it's just warm.”

“Oh.” You shut your mouth with a sheepish bow of your head. “Sorry.”

“It's alright.” He turns the bag in his hold, looking at the patches and bad attempts at embroidery on its edges. It was cute. The sad little attempts seemed to get better as they reached the top, which led him to believe this was your first attempt at embroidery.

What would you do if he had burnt it to ash?

His flames were highly destructive, and sometimes even he couldn't handle them.

Maybe he was being risky to test his powers like this. It had been ages since he last used his flames for something more than lighting a silly candle or a cigarette.

“So..”

Oh right, you were still there.

He looks at you and rotates the bag in his hold. “Yes?”

“Is it always this empty?”

“Only when you're here.” He winks.

“Rude.”

“Rude, sir.”

You laugh, and from that point on he's hooked to the sound.

-

Dabi used to like his job, now it was turning into something akin to gratitude. It allowed him to see you on most days.

He had learned quite a few things about you ever since that rainy day.

You were a teacher in training, specifically the nearby high school. You were aiming for Shiketsu and had a foot in the door with the vice principal taking notice of you during their mock trials. He didn't peg you for a demon hunter, but everyone had a hidden side to them. Hah. You had two pet birds named Sweet Pea and Darlington, you had a snake named Petra and were looking into getting a newt.

You loved coffee but hated it black, it needed sugar or chocolate of some kind because you couldn't stand bitter food. You loved spicy food even if you couldn't tolerate it, and you adored sour candies.

While you looked book smart, you were also street smart, and he was beginning to believe you might be vying for a spot as a demon slayer teacher. He just didn't know what your quirk was yet.

“Hey Dabi.” You chime in unison with the doorbell as you walk inside, this time with an umbrella to keep yourself out of the rain.

He leans on the counter with a grin. “Hey babe. What is it today? The usual?”

“Just a shot of espresso this time.”

He narrows his eyes. “Are you sick?”

“Nope.” You fold your arms behind your back, rocking back and forth on your heels with a huge smile on your face. “I got news.”

“Do tell.” He says as he starts preparing your shot.

“I got the job!” You squeal in excitement, arms coming out of hiding so you can clasp them in front of you. “Starting in the spring I’m going to be the new first year homeroom teacher!”

He genuinely smiles. So you wanted to ruin your happiness with a shot of liquid bitter? He didn't understand you sometimes.  “I thought your celebration drink would be a sakura latte, not a shot of espresso.”

You wave your hand dismissively, already removing your wallet from your pocket. “I'll come back for one.”

“Two visits in one day? Is that a gift for you or for me?” He chuckles and hands you your espresso, taking your yen and entering it into the register.

You adjust the glasses on your face. "I figured I would grace your presence because you've been so humble as to fuel my caffeine addiction."

"It's my duty to make sure you don't kill some other sorry bastard with a coffee maker."

Your eyes flash green for a split second, and in that moment he has to keep from reeling back. Did he really see that?

The cups behind him tumble to the ground.

His tail had appeared in his brief moment of shock.  

You cock your head to the side. "What happened?"

He kneels and collects the cups. "The shop's ghost. Don't mind it."

"I thought I saw a-"

"How about I give you the latte now? On me." He interrupts you mid sentence, standing up with the cups in his arms.

The blush on your face was one of his favorite sights in the human world.

"You don't have to Dabi."

"It's just a drink." He waves you along to one of the booths. "Sit, it'll be ready soon."

You take your shot of espresso and go to the booth he had motioned you to.

The way you scrunched your nose in disgust as you drank your shot was also one of his new favorite sights.

Maybe it was just you.

--

After you had gotten your job at Shiketsu, you were around every morning to prepare for the day. Sometimes you would come by for lunch, unfortunately he clocked out on those days, but sometimes he would make sure he was in the area just to catch you off-guard. Those days he spent his lunch with you, and you got to tell him stories about your students.

It was one of your lunch breaks when hell came to toll.

His eyes were trained on you as you spoke, you were talking about a girl who wielded fire similar to him when the bell of the cafe rang.

The sound resonated through him, and in that moment he knew who was at the door.

What was at the door.

His glamour of his new human form nearly drops as he hears a woman's voice ask from the counter of the cafe.

“Is Dabi here?” She croons in a sickly sweet voice he hadn't heard in nearly a year. He doesn't hear his coworkers' response but he feels the air fill with the flowery scent of her. He grits his teeth to keep his fangs from showing through as he hears her heels click against the ground.

You had stopped your explanation and looked behind him, adjusting your glasses as you did so. “You're looking for Dabi?”

“I am, what a sweet peach you've got here Dabi~ I didn't know you still had it in you to snag such a cutie, your charms must still be working even in this sad form.” He feels her hand on his shoulder, her fingernails drumming along the stitching of his jacket. “Did you catch her, or did she come crawling to you?”

He knows he has to speak up, before she says another word, but his fangs were already piercing the inside of his lip as his glamour slipped.

He looks at you with the most apologetic gaze he can muster. Grabbing his coffee, he lifts it to his mouth to hide his fangs and he speaks. “Excuse me.” He stands up and slams the cup on the table, grabbing the wrist of the woman behind him and dragging her out of the shop and into the closest alleyway.

He slams her against the wall with her arm pinned above her head. His glamour drops completely, his scars and horns bared for the world to see as he growls with rage. “You!”

The succubus in front of him smiles coyly, dragging a finger across his scars and the staples holding his mouth together. “Aren't you happy to see me? To see one of your own again?”

“No. What do you want?”

She plays at pulling on one of the staples but is stopped as he pins her other hand up as well. The succubus sighs and turns her head, “I come see you and all I get is this. And seeing you with a little human.” She peers at him with violet eyes. “Don't tell me you've gone soft Dabi. She’s human, she’ll die just like a human too.”

He hadn't let that thought slip into his mind and wasn't planning on starting to. He tightens his grip on her wrists. “We broke up, I made that clear.” A feral grin forms on his face, pulling at the staples on his face. “I told you, if you try me again, I’ll kill you.”

“I heard you had a human now. We all heard.” She whispers, her eyes glowing in the dark of the alley. “They know Dabi.”

His grip falters.

Shit.

Shit. Shit Shit-

He lets go of her wrists and he paces in the alleyway, flames licking at his face as his emotions spiralled.

“They need your power, but you’re squandering it here with a girl who will die before you know it. While you're full of youth, she will be an old crone with nothing but a coffin awaiting her.” She didn't sound bothered at all as she rubs her wrists. “Honestly Dabi, you were the one that taught me never to fall for a human. They’re too brittle, their life essence too weak.”

He did teach her. He taught her to keep her heart shut and to leave it open only for him. He taught her a little too well, as she now believed she had rights to him.

But he never taught himself as well as he did her.

He fell for you bad, and you were mortal.

“Anyway, I was told one of two things. Either bring you back with me, or expose you so you have no other choice but to return.”

He looks back at her, his rage quelled only by the dread that was now spiralling in him. “You will do no such thing!” He roars, his flames igniting and setting him ablaze. “If you dare go near her-”

The succubus’s body transforms into mist starting from her feet then rising to her waist. She puts a finger to her lips. “I’ll be back in three days. If you don't do it, I will.”

She was gone. Leaving him alone in the alley with nothing but flames that wouldn't stop burning.

-

Dabi spent the next two days trying to find ways to tell you, but with each scenario came the same question.

What would you do if you knew he was a demon? You worked at a school that trained demon slayers- what other option for you would there be if not to turn him in? It was your duty to turn in any demon that showed up at your door, and here you were having coffee with him.

He couldn't do it.

On the third day, it was raining, just like the day he met you.

He hated the mist that had surrounded the shop, reminding him of the succubus and her promise.

Three days.

He had to tell you.

But why was it so damn hard to do? He used to be cold and calculated, having his fun toying with human emotions and killing without regret. He had no empathy, no sympathy for the lives he ruined.

But you were kind. So incredibly kind.

He rests his head on the counter as the door opens. He scents you in the air before you even step through, the smell of milk and honey wafting in the air as you approach the counter.

He had to tell you.

“Morning Dabi!” You cheer as you fold up your umbrella. “A mocha cappuccino with two shots of espresso please!”

He looks up and smiles crookedly. “Finally down to two?”

“I figured I would finally listen to you.”

“That's my girl.” He chuckles as he grabs a cup and prepares your drink. His hands were shaking, but he knew what he had to do.

When your drink was ready and paid for, Dabi keeps his hand on the cup as you take it from him, your hand overlapping his. You look at him with curious eyes behind your wide rimmed glasses. “Dabi? What’s wrong?”

“If I told you I was a bad man, what would you do?”

You narrow your eyes, but keep your hand over his. “Stealing a croissant from the place you work at isn't evil Dabi-”

“Not that.” He laughs but it's noticeably strained. “Not that.” He looks you in the eyes, greedily taking in the sight of you, for perhaps the last time. “What if I told you I was a bad man, who did horrible things. Whose caused terrible things.”

Your hand tightens around his, he feels the tremors in your body before you still.

“I would tell you I know better than to judge you for what you've done, and tell you that I judge you for who you are now. Does that forgive you of what you've done or what you've caused? No. But I judge what I see. And I see a good man.”

He lets out a shaky breath as his glamor drops, revealing his true form of scars and fangs and horns. His flames curl around him as he whispers. “What if I'm not a man?”

You jump back, hands flying to your glasses before they could tumble off of your face. You stare at him with your jaw hanging.

He looks at the coffee still in his grasp. At the scars covering his body.

He knew it.

He puts down the cup.

He knew it.

Clapping comes from the corner of the room where the succubus has taken form, her body still halfway between corporal and mist. She smiles, showing off her sharpened canines. “Bravo Dabi, I almost thought I’d have to do it myself.”

You shut your mouth and look at the succubus. “You're from before-”

“I am.” She purrs. “And I’m here to take Dabi home. Shigaraki will be happy to see his lieutenant again.”

Dabi burns away his apron, leaving him in his normal attire, the stitches of his black coat catching his eye. Memories of your embroidered bag slip through his mind, though are soon flushed out entirely when he hears the shattering of tables as a high pitched shriek comes from the mist succubus.

He phases through the counter in a wall of heatless flame as he sees you covering your ears.

The shriek had destroyed the tables and windows turning them into scrap, and had shattered your glasses. Blood was running down your ears from between your hands.

He stands between you and the succubus, his arms lit with powerful blue flames. “This wasn't part of the deal!”

“Not our deal. Shigaraki doesn't want you to have any temptations for returning to the human world. We need your girl gone for good.” She grins fiendishly. “She will never grow old, isn't that the best gift you could receive?”

“Dabi-” You call out from behind him.

“Stay back!” He yells at you. “Get out of here!” But he knew if you went into the rain outside, you would be done for. The succubus would be able to drown you where you stood.

Her body turns to pure water as she rushes at him. With her power boosted by the rain that washed in through the broken windows, all he could do was send wave after wave of fire to evaporate the water.

But what was evaporation if not mist?

He was fighting a losing battle as he backed up until he finally reached you. He covers you with his body as he puts up a wall of flame.

“I’m sorry.” He whispers to you as his flames are soon put out. “I’m sorry.”

You lift your hands to his face, eyes still closed, and pull him in, pressing your forehead against his.

“Don't be sorry for the things you can't control.” You whisper in return.

The succubus’s body turns corporal from the waist up. She coos. “How sweet, one last goodbye.”

You press a kiss to his lips.

“Don't open your eyes.” You murmur against his lips before letting go of his face and turning around to look at the succubus.

He closes his eyes, prepared to hear you scream in pain, prepared to hear your body drop to the ground.

But all he hears is the loud boom of thunder from outside and the crackle of rock breaking.

Rock?

He opens his eyes and sees you on your knees in front of a marble statue of the succubus.

His eyes widen as he sees you stand up. From the reflection of the marble, he can see your eyes flashing green.

“Did I ever tell you my mother was a demon?” You ask as you kneel and pick up your eyeglass frames from the floor. “She called herself Medusa. Silly, huh? My dad was human though, and well, as you know, they had me..” You turn around, your eyes now closed. “I guess you can say my quirk is having a very strange lineage.”

Dabi gets to his feet and runs at you, barreling into you with his arms swiftly wrapping around you.

You return the hug, your face nuzzled into his chest.

“So.. you're not mortal?” He says quietly, as if the good luck that had been shone upon the both of you would wither out.

“I'm not. It's my hundred and twenty-fourth this year.” You look up from his hold, he could see the faint glow of green from under your eyelashes. “Will you be there?”

He tightens his hold and presses his lips against yours.

“As if I'd ever leave.”

[lovely-ateez]

Favorite Place~

ꕥPosted: 3/8/21

ꕥGenre: College!au, Angst, Fluff

ꕥPairing: FemReader! x Emo!Hongjoong

ꕥWord Count: ~4.8k

ꕥWarnings: General angst (happy ending), Unknown man being creepy to reader, Characters insulting reader behind her back, Alcohol intake, Driving with a few sips of alcohol (please don’t drink and drive), Implied violence, Language, Oral (f recieving), Unprotected sex, Corruption kink, Language

ꕥA/N: Reader is a girly-girl bc we need more rep that isn’t hella negative and to actually be portrayed as smart and hardworking for once 😤 You👏can👏be👏both👏 ANyWay—thank you for bearing with me while I wrote this

I ran my hands along the open science textbook laying upon my desk, eyes scanning rapidly over the information. The pages were thin and flimsy, clearly showing the book’s age. If I wasn’t careful, the pages would rip with ease. Not that I had time to actually think about that.

In less than five minutes I, along with the twenty five other poor souls who took this class of their own volition, would be handed our last final for the class. A hundred and ten questions in an hour and thirty minutes.

The class was basically academic suicide and had I been told that, I would have stayed far, far away from the class. But no. No one bothered to run that by me.

A whiff of familiar cologne filled my nose and against my better judgement I looked up to find the class genius, Hongjoong Kim. It was bad enough that he was smart as a whip and never needed to study, but on top of it all he was a dangerous, handsome, irresistible bad boy.

He gave me a wink, a sly smile resting on his lips. I gave him the same reaction I always did: a blank face. There had been multiple times he had tried to rile me up, whether that be say something flirty or wink, or “accidentally” touch my shoulder, and I refused to give him the satisfaction of any reaction. I would keep a blank face, hoping that he would leave me alone.

I wasn’t immune to his charms. I felt butterflies in my stomach every time he looked at me just like any other girl he tried it on, but I didn’t want him to know that. The biggest reaction I had given him was an eyebrow quirk at most.

I could tell it bothered him. I knew he was frustrated that he couldn’t get me to blush or stutter my words, and that may have been part of why he kept up his antics. Probably the entire reason, knowing him. Had he not been a fuckboy, I might have fallen for him. Might have.

I returned my eyes to my book and heard his footsteps walk past me, headed to the very back of class. His usual spot.

“Alright ladies and gentlemen,” A loud clap could be heard from the front of the room, our professor signalling the start of class, “It is time for your final. I hope you all are well prepared. I ask that you remove anything from your desk aside from a pencil and I will begin to hand out the tests. You may leave as you finish, just make sure to hand me your tests before you leave. Good luck.”

Book already off my desk, I gripped my pencil, hoping six hours of studying was enough.

“Thank you.” I muttered to my professor as he placed the stack of papers on my desk.

Here goes nothing, I suppose.

-

I handed in my test with a smile, hoping that I’d pass. Taking a deep breath I stepped out of the classroom, seeing a familiar face. At the noise of my footsteps Hongjoong looked up from his phone with a devilish smile, eyes staring me down. I must’ve not noticed he turned in his test before mine, not that I was surprised. He always finished his test the quickest out of all of us.

“How’s it going, pretty-in-pink?”

Pink was my favorite color and and I wore pink clothes often, unfortunately it had earned me several unwanted nicknames, all coming from Hongjoong.

I barely bothered him a glace, “I have a name.” 

“But your nicknames are so unique to you. Don’t you love them?”

“Can’t say I do.” I walked away, not interested in entertaining him any longer than I already had.

“Farewell, princess.” He fleeted me with a honey-like voice.

Suppressing an eye roll, I gripped the straps of my backpack, ecstatic to get away from him. The more time I spent away from him the better. The less time I was with him meant there was less of a chance for me to get attached to him. I refused to let that happen.

After I left the building I grabbed a coffee and walked to the library, bracing the cold weather. I only had one final left and I needed to make sure I studied enough. Just one last push before I was done for the semester. Taking the elevator up to the third floor, I saw a familiar face who smiled at me and I sat down at his table.

“Hey! How do you think you did on the final?” Lia asked me as I took my laptop out.

“Honestly I don’t know. I don’t want to say I passed because knowing my luck, if I do I’ll fail it. I knew the majority of the answers though, so there’s that.”

“That’s a positive.” She cocked her head, observing the way my eyes were glued to my laptop, “So what are you studying for now?”

“Criminal Psychology. I don’t take it until late tomorrow but I wanna get some studying in.”

“You’ve been studying for hours, you’ll be fine. Let’s just go shopping instead.”

My ears perked and I slowly raised my head, “Damn you. You know I’m not gonna turn you down.”

A wide smile formed on her face as she placed her hands behind her head, “What are friends for?”

“Oh don’t look so cocky.”

“Why not? I’m pretty sure I’ve won here. Now let’s get going.”

Lia stood up and slid on her backpack, a smile still plastered on her face. Just as I was placing my laptop in my own backpack I heard a string of male voices and a mention of my name.

I gave Lia a look and, curiosity taking over, I snuck closer to the direction of the voices to see a group of men at a table hid behind a large stack of bookshelves. There were four of them, not a one of them sitting properly in a chair. Two were sitting on top of the table, another with his legs propped on the table, the other sitting upon a backpack which itself was on a chair. I could only see two of their faces and didn’t recognize either.

“We’ve gotta invite the token good girl, right?” A tall man with dark hair smiled, leaning back on the table.

A man with distinct dimples, clad in all black scoffed, “Y/n? Like she’d go to a party anyway.”

“She might.” Hongjoong tiled his head, allowing me to see him, black earrings swaying as he looked at the man with dimples.

Oh. He’s there, too.

“She dresses like she still believes in the tooth fairy.” A man with a blonde ponytail scoffed, “You think she’s gonna come to a party with people like us?”

I grabbed Lia’s arm to prevent her from storming over. She was upset, I was too, but I wanted to keep listening. Still, I couldn’t deny the pang of hurt I felt as I looked down at my pink skirt and cropped top. Was it a crime to like the color pink?

And I thought I looked cute today...

“You should be the last person to judge someone over the way the dress, Yeosang. You never wear anything but black. If she likes it, then she likes it. Fuck you.” Hongjoong bit back.

I felt tears welling up in my eyes. I didn’t know why he defended me, maybe he was just defending fashion for fashion’s sake and it had nothing to do with me, but it was still nice of him.

Yeosang smiled, “Damn someone’s aggressive, huh? Someone might almost think you’ve got feelings for the girl.”

Hongjoong remained silent.

“Ooh is she still not reacting to your desperate attempts to woo her?”

Hongjoong quickly became defensive, “Listen, I’m not-”

“Okay we’re not getting into this. Just invite her, you never know what she’ll say.” The dark-haired man said to Hongjoong, “And invite her friend, too. She wouldn’t go alone.”

“Yeah that’s a fair point. I’ll talk to them next time I see them.”

I turned to face Lia, whispering in her ear, “Let’s go. Please.”

Her face told me that she would much rather confront them, but changed as my eyes began to water once more. She nodded and put an arm around me, leading me out of the library.

A tear fell down my cheek as we walked. I raised my hand to wipe my face when Lia did it for me. She pulled me into a tight hug, running her hands through my hair.

“Don’t you think for a second that you’re any less of amazing. Fuck them for not seeing it.”

As she spoke more tears began to fall and my breath hitched, “But-t they-”

“No. There’s no excuse for being shitty to you, especially when you haven’t done anything to wrong them.”

I nodded, trying my best to believe her and steady my breathing.

“What can I do for you? What can I do to help?”

Releasing Lia from my tight grip I stepped back and looked in her eyes, “Nothing. Let’s just go shopping.”

My friend nodded and slipped her hand into my own, something she would always do when I needed comfort. I squeezed her warm hand, following her footsteps as she led me to her car.

“So...you’re not gonna go to the party are you?”

“Yeah I don’t think so.”

She let out a hum in approval and nodded, opening the car door for me.

As much as I wanted to take my mind off of the boys’ words, I couldn’t. No amount of retail therapy seemed to help that. I knew Lia was doing her best to make me feel better and I felt a bit guilty for bringing down the mood. She scoffed when I told her, making eye contact and emphasizing that she simply wanted to make me feel better.

Sooner than I liked, we had to part. Lia had a class in thirty minutes and I had to help out in an on-campus activity. She gave me a tight hug and a small smile, bidding me adue.

I was the Vice President of our Activities Planning Board and as such was in charge of setting up an Academic Bowl for the competing students. Unfortunately, I was having trouble setting up the large tables and my small frame just made it harder. I was confident anyone around could see that I was struggling and I huffed, hoping no one would look my way. It didn’t help that I was outside in the middle of campus, where anyone just walking by could see me.

“Do you need any help?”

I turned to find Hongjoong with his dark backpack slung over his shoulder, a concerned look on his face. Had I not desperately needed help, I would have refused.

“Yeah I do. Hold this, will you?” I nodded at the opposite side of the table I was struggling to hold.

He appeared shocked that I accepted his offer, but I didn’t dwell on it and instead lifted the table. We worked in silence aside from a few words of instruction I gave him, and I was thankful for the lack of distraction. When we set up the last table I placed my hands on my hips, looking at the tables.

Hongjoong crossed his arms, “Why were you doing this alone?”

“No one else signed up to help for the Academic Bowl, so I did it myself.” He gave a confused look so I clarified my position.

“Of course you’re the Vice President.” Hongjoong muttered.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I faced him, feeling slightly offended.

He shrugged, “I know you’re just involved in a lot. I’m not surprised.”

Ignoring his comment, I took the conversation another direction. “Why did you help me?”

“You needed help, princess.” He answered simply.

I nodded, ignoring the nickname. “Well...thanks.”

A moment of silence followed until Hongjoong broke it, “Hey listen, there’s a party this weekend I want you to go.”

“Why?” I cocked my head.

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t know anyone that will be there.”

“You know me.”

“That’s not exactly an incentive.”

He scoffed in mock offense, “Okay first of all, ouch. Second, what if I sweeten the deal?”

My eyebrows raised, lips forming a smile, “Oh yeah? What could that possibly be?”

He faltered for a moment, his voice lowering seemingly without intent, “That’s the first time I’ve seen you smile. You’re beautiful.”

I turned from him, trying to will any semblance of a flustered expression off my face. “You were saying before?”

Hongjoong chuckled, “I’ll drive. You can even invite your friend if you want.”

“Lia?”

“Yeah. If it makes you more comfortable.”

At first, I wanted to say no. At first, I wanted to continue my streak of refusing any advance he made on me. But looking at his kind eyes, completely devoid of any malintent, I felt my heart flutter. When my mind thought back to how he had defended me in the library I felt a warmth bubbling in my chest. I pretended to ponder for a moment, even though I already knew my answer.

“Okay but I don’t...I don’t think I should tell Lia.”

“Why’s that?”

“She kinda hates you.”

He looked taken aback, “Might I ask why?”

I sighed, crossing my arms, “Don’t worry about it. So where is this party?”

He filled me in on the details and I did my best to keep up my neutral façade. I wouldn’t admit it, but I was ecstatic to see him outside of campus, my will of staying away from him faltering by the minute.

-

I stood in front of my closet for what seemed like hours, desperately trying to find something that would match the occasion. I laughed a bit to myself as I looked at the section of black clothes I had. I went through a bit of an emo phase in middle school and I just couldn’t bring myself to get rid of any of them. I debated avoiding black clothes all together, but the words of Yeosang rang in my head and I bit the inside of my cheek.

Fine. I’ll change it up. But I’ll be damned if I give up on pink.

Taking a deep breath I slipped into a light pink leather skirt reaching mid-thigh with black fishnets. I put on a black leather jacket over my black see through shirt exposing my lacy bra underneath, my pink shoes on last.

I took several deep breaths and observed myself in the mirror. It was a change, definitely. I didn’t mind black, but I wouldn’t wear just black alone. I wanted it to be more feminine.

I heard a car horn outside my apartment much sooner than I expected. Bracing for Hongjoong’s reaction, I stepped outside. I was greeted with a smug smile, the man adorning it seeming as confident as a god until he observed my clothes, his eyebrows raising.

Hongjoong’s eyes scanned over me, taking in my abrupt fashion change, “I still wasn’t entirely certain you’d go. Much less looking like this.”

My lips quirked into half-smile, “Well I can’t show up looking like I normally do.”

“Why not?”

My heart swelled at the genuine confusion evident on his face. “Some people don’t care for the way I dress.” I took a breath and continued, “I heard you and your friends in the library.”

I forced myself to look him in the eyes. I could see the gears turning in his head as he put the pieces together, a scowl forming on his face. “You don’t have to change a goddamn thing. You look great, don’t get me wrong, but you look great in pink, too. And I’m sorry if he made you feel otherwise.”

I shook my head. “It’s alright, I actually kinda like it.”

“You definitely make it work.” He swallowed, voice lowering.

“Then maybe I should wear a bit of black more often.”

The man gave a thousand dollar smile, quirking a brow that left my panties feeling slightly damp. He motioned to the car door, “Hop in, cutie.”

A friendly string of conversation followed us as Hongjoong drove. I felt my nerves starting to dissipate, his smile I once despised now bringing me comfort. And really, he was much funnier than I had believed. I found myself laughing with him more than I had in a long time. I knew my walls were falling, but I wasn’t trying to fight it anymore.

Why the hell not? He’s kind enough, and he isn’t even close to being hard on the eyes.

The car drive was much quicker than I expected, although how quickly I was unfamiliar with my surroundings through me for a loop. The trees around us became more sporadic and the sun set quicker than what seemed normal. I fidgeted slightly, prompting Hongjoong to look over at me. He intertwined my fingers with his own and I smiled, secretly welcoming his touch.

“Hey, don’t worry. I’m right here with you, okay?”

I nodded, grasping onto his hand tightly. Before I knew it, my eyes locked with the building in front of us. I took in the abandoned building in front of me, eyes widening slightly as I observed its poor condition. Large windows were shattered, vines were growing around pillars, grass peaking through what once was concrete.

“This is the most sketchy place I’ve ever seen in my life.” I spoke, feeling slightly alarmed by the building but comforted by Hongjoong’s presence.

“Oh come on, it’s not that bad.”

“I literally just saw a rat run out a broken window.”

Hongjoong suppressed a smile and let go of my hand, opening his car door and telling me to stay in place as he walked around and opened the door on my side. I hesitated as I exited the car, a bit afraid of what could possibly be inside the building.

“We can leave at anytime. If you don’t want to go in we can leave right now. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

As sweet as he was being, I felt the need to prove to him that I was brave enough to enter, even if it did look like he was leading me to my death.

“Thank you, but I’m okay. We can go in.”

He smiled, leading me to an out-of-the-way entrance which seemed to lead to a different building entirely. I gave an involuntary “woah” as we entered the building. As horrific as it looked on the outside, it was gorgeous on the inside. Perfectly up kept brick walls hugged the sides of the building, lights were strung from the ceiling, arcade machines and dart boards were huddled in a corner, and of course, there was a bar with a seemingly unlimited amount of liquor. People were scattered all throughout, socializing and being generally loud. Everyone wore about the same color clothes as Hongjoong, dark as they could possibly get.

“How did you even find this place?”

“My friend Yeosang and I were just driving around and we found it one day. Decided to make it our hangout spot.”

I looked at him confused, still amazed at my surroundings. Hongjoong led me over to his familiar group of friends, assuring me that they wouldn’t bite, and introduced me to the seven men, four of which I hadn’t seen prior. I saw the color drain from a few of their faces as they saw me, likely from their words in the library, but I didn’t comment on it. Overall, they were much friendlier than I expected them to be.

“I’m gonna get a drink,” Hongjoong nudged me, “You want anything?”

“No that’s okay. I think I’m gonna check out the pinball machines. They look kinda cool.”

“You sure you don’t wanna stay by my side? I won’t take long.”

I shook my head, “I’ll be okay.”

He chucked, “Alright. I’ll grab a drink and I’ll head right over, princess.”

I bit my lip at the nickname and wandered over to the machines, surprisingly feeling comfortable in the environment, despite everything being so unfamiliar. All of the games were being used, some people clearly playing better than others.

I got lost in the artwork on the side of a particular pinball machine when a gruff voice caught my attention. “What’s a pretty thing like you doing here?”

I turned to meet a tall man with grey hair. He was young, likely in his mid-twenties, and reeked of cigarettes and a foul smell I couldn’t place.

A flash of fear ran through me and I tried to make my voice as confident as possible, “I was invited.”

“Well...that’s certainly a shame now, isn’t it? I wasn’t invited, but I decided to show up for a bit of fun anyway.”

He came closer to me, our height difference incredibly prominent as he leaned over me, “How about you give me a kiss, little thing?” I ran away as soon as the words left his mouth, hoping that he wouldn’t follow me but assuming he would. I dashed around quickly and sporadically around people, hoping I would lose him.

I looked around desperately for Hongjoong, sighing when I found him surrounded by his friends, laughing at something one of them said. I ran up to him and grabbed his arm, gaining his attention.

I hope this fucking works.

“I need you to kiss me.”

A look of confusion flashed in his eyes, “What?”

“Please kiss me.” I begged, eyes wide, disregarding the stares of his friends around us, hoping that if the man saw I was taken he’d leave me alone.

Without hesitation he wrapped his free hand around my waist—a cup of alcohol still in the other—and pulled me close, pressing his lips to my own. He kissed me hard, biting my bottom lip slightly and letting out a growl only I could hear. He wasn’t my first kiss, far from it, but no one had ever kissed me like he did. Just a kiss had never left me feeling weak at the knees. Just a kiss had ever made me feel so submissive, making me want to beg him to take me right on the spot, regardless of the fear in my veins. Even with the taste of alcohol still on his lips, his scent overtook me.

He pulled back, eyes darker than before, and raised a brow, “Care to tell me what that was about?”

Just then I realized my hands had been gripping his leather coat, pulling him just as close as he was pulling me. I looked over in the direction of where the man was before, not seeing him.

“A man was following me and he was trying to get me to kiss him a-and I didn’t know him...I just wanted him to leave me alone.”

His eyes narrowed at my words, a rage I hadn’t seen before taking over them, “What did he look like?”

“I-I don’t know he was tall and had grey hair and-”

He cursed under his breath. Keeping me just as close he turned to the men around him, their eyes narrowed as well.

“You heard that?” He asked his friends.

“Loud and clear.” San said, cracking his knuckles, a scowl on his face that scared me, even though I knew I wasn’t the one it was directed at.

“I thought we told him to never come back here.” Jongho snarled.

“We did.” Hongjoong said.

Seonghwa looked at me, nodding to Hongjoong, “Keep her safe and take her out of here. If he’s here I’m sure he’s brought friends. Yeosang, lead everyone out. We’ll take care of him.”

Hongjoong looked conflicted, obviously wanting to stay and fight, but gave into the older man’s command. “Be fucking safe,” he barked, but I could see the fear in his eyes as he looked at me, “Come on, we’re going.”

Seonghwa mumbled something to Hongjoong and he nodded in response, tossing his alcohol to the ground. I didn’t have time to ask questions as he led me out a back door, the darkness of the night equally horrifying and comforting, and quickly pushed me into his car, apologizing the entire time. He entered the key into the ignition and the car sprung to life.

“Uhh...maybe it’s not a good idea for you to drive. You’ve been drinking, right?”

“I had maybe two sips. I’ll drive safe, promise.”He gave me a small comforting smile, “Put your seatbelt on. Hold on tight, sweetheart.” His voice was calm but firm as he spoke. I nodded and did as he said, bracing as his car sped off, my heart beating in overtime.

The ride was a blur, the only things I could remember being Hongjoong’s calming voice, periodically reassuring me that things would be okay. We arrived at a foreign building which Hongjoong called his house, and only then did I let myself fall apart. I felt tears streaming down my face as my hands quivered, my head beginning to pound.

“Hey, hey look at me. You’re safe. You’re safe with me.” My teary eyes met his and I felt my heart break at the way he was looking at me, as if he had made me cry himself.

“Here, come on. Let’s get you inside, okay?”

My tears slowed as he carefully led me inside his house, sitting me down on his bed. He crouched down in front of me, wiping the tears from my face.

“I’m so sorry, princess. I didn’t realize he was going to be there. I never should’ve made you come along I’m so-”

“Who was that?”

Hongjoong sighed, “He used to be a friend of mine. We had a falling out and he became violent. One time he showed up at one of our parties with some friends of his to start a fight. We won and told him to never come back. Looks like he did.” He looked off into nowhere, regret clear on his face.

“You didn’t know,” I sniffled, “You couldn’t have known.”

I watched the muscles in his jaw tighten, his agitation still visible. I brought a hand out to reach his own, trying to comfort him. The loud ding of Hongjoong’s phone made me jump and he apologized profusely. As he took out his phone from his pants pocket I looked around his room for the first time. It looked exactly as I had expected, solid black furniture and so many band posters decorating the wall I could hardly tell what color his bedroom walls were.

Hongjoong spoke up, “I just got a text from Seonghwa. There were two other people there with him. My friends took care of them don’t worry, you’re safe.”

I nodded, pulling him into a hug and burying my face into his chest. “If you’re comfortable with it,” He started, “I’d like you to stay here. I want to know you’re safe.”

My eyes met his as he moved a hair out of my face, “I’m not pressuring you. If you don’t want to I understand.”

A hand of his ran up and down my back, tracing little patterns here and there, and I realized just how much I wanted to be with him.

“If it’s alright with you, I’d like to stay.”

He laughed, “What do you mean ‘if it’s alright with you’ I asked.”

I bit my bottom lip and looked down, a bit embarrassed.

Hongjoong laughed, “Hey, look at me.” He said in a commanding yet sweet tone that made my thighs press together. I glanced back up at him, his handsome features making me feel dizzy.

He chuckled, “What’s that look for? You got something to say to me?”

I hesitated, “Actually, I do have a question.”

“Which is?”

“Why did you chase after me?”

Hongjoong smiled, “You never gave a reaction to anything I tried. It confused me and piqued my curiosity. So I began to watch you and how you interacted with people. You’re gentle and sweet. You’re innocent and haven’t let the world tear you down. I admire that.”

He leaned closer to me, his lips brushing my ear, “And it turned me on beyond belief. I wondered how I could ruin you, thought about how I could turn you into a quivering mess as you beg for me.”

I shivered and pulled back slightly to look him in the eyes. His beautiful, dark eyes. Hongjoong let out a dark chuckle as he sat on his bed, lifting me on his lap. He gave an eyebrow raise and a crooked smile as my breath hitched while looking at him, taking him in.

How did I never notice how his dark hair falls to one side when he cocks his head and how he looks so endearing when it happens? How did I never pay attention to his soft pink lips that give way to his gorgeous smile and how much I’ve been dying to kiss them all this time? How did I not see the way his eyes form crescents when he smiles, making my heart grow ten times over?

Why did I never think to take note of how his deep voice makes my stomach do somersaults? Why was I so unaware of his tongue piercing that was leaving me wonder how it would feel on my skin? Why didn’t I observe the black painted nails of his that were currently dancing along my thighs, giving me goosebumps?

How and why did I never notice him?

“You’re such a good girl.”

And for the first time around him, I flushed.

He chuckled, “Oh? You like that?”

I nodded quickly and he said it again, smiling as my face heated up once more.

“It’s so good to see you react to what I say. I wonder...” Hongjoong leaned closer to me, “How will you react when you’re underneath me? Squirming and begging for me to touch you?”

I gave him a look of desperation and balled his shirt into my fist, trying to move him closer, “Please.”

Hongjoong lifted me off of him, quickly discarding my clothes followed by his own shirt. My eyes were guided down by his abs and I ran a hand across them without thinking, whimpering quietly.

“Is my baby girl getting needy?” He cooed.

I closed my eyes, once again nodding in embarrassment.

“How about we take care of that?”

He laid me down on the soft sheets of his bed, leaving me in anticipation as he pinned my hands above my head with a hand of his own. My eyes widened and he chuckled, running a single finger along my folds.

“You’re so unbelievably fucking wet...do I turn you on that much?”

I let out a small “yes” and he hummed in response. Placing a few kisses upon my lips, Hongjoong slowly entered two fingers into me and my back arched. His fingers curled, hitting a spot inside of me that’d I’d never been able to reach. I spread my legs as far as they could go, pleading for more, feeling tears prick my eyes.

Hongjoong spoke, his voice already dropping several octaves, “Keep your hands here, understand? I don’t want you moving them.”

I nodded, willing my hands to stay in place as his own moved to my hips, leaving kisses along my inner thighs.

“Hongjoong please.”

“Please what, princess?”

“Please touch me.”

“Oh, I think I can do better than that, don’t you?”

His lips attached to my core, tongue running through my folds and nose hitting my clit as I moaned pathetically. His hands held my hips down as I tried to buck them up, barely able to keep my hands above my head. After what felt like years, his mouth finally reached my clit and I cried out as his lips attached to it, sucking hard and leaving kitten licks. My high built up quickly and I came hard, my hands leaving their spot and pulling slightly on his hair.

“Thought I told you to keep your hands above your head, no?”

I mumbled an apology and he leaned over to kiss me, “You’re forgiven, darling.”

He seemed just as impatient as I was and without much begging the rest of his clothes were off, his dick teasing my entrance.

“God Hongjoong please I need you so bad.”

“I need you too, y/n.”

He fully entered me, cursing as he did so. I was so caught up in the feeling of him inside of me that I didn’t even register him asking me a question until he laughed at me.

“Feeling good, baby? Can’t even speak?”

I whimpered, nodding seeming to be the only thing I could manage to do. I felt his member twitch inside of me and I pleaded for him to fuck me, to give me anything. Hongjoong growled and jerked his hips up into me over and over, leaving me a moaning mess.

“Taking me so well, aren’t you? Such a good girl for me.”

The amount of praise he gave me caused a few tears to fall from my eyes, not realizing how bad I needed it until that moment. My walls clenched around him every time, causing him to groan and snap his hips into me even harder. Hongjoong’s eyes grew hazy, his dark hair sticking to his forehead.

“I’m close, darling. Be my good girl and cum for me”

His hand trailed down to my clit, rubbing tiny circles. My back arched as I came in time with him, our breaths synchronizing as we gasped for air.

He slowly pulled out of me and ran to the bathroom to grab a towel, cleaning me up. Hongjoong giggled and I raised a brow at him.

“I never thought you’d give me a chance. It’s almost like I’ve corrupted you.”

“You have. Aren’t you aware of the party I went to because of you? I almost died.”

Hongjoong laughed as he crawled into bed and pulled blankets over the both of us. He ran a hand through my hair, looking at me fondly, “You did not almost die.”

“Okay yeah but I could have. That’s what we should be focusing on here.”

“I think there’s something else I’d like to focus on.”

Hongjoong pulled me into a deep kiss, hand slithering down to my waist. His kisses trailed to my ear, a slight chuckle leaving his lips, “My pretty princess.”

I looked at him with doe eyes, slightly in awe of him, and wondered how I could’ve pushed him away for so long. I knew for certain that I had no intention of doing so ever again.

When I told him he smiled, “Good. You’ve had a grip on my heart since day one. I’d be a fool to let you get away from me.”

I blushed slightly, much to his entertainment. We snuggled up to each other in silence, listening to the sound of our synchronized breathing as I lulled to sleep, our warm fingers intertwined. My dreams filled of him.

“Sleep well, my princess. I’ll be right here when you wake.”