#i remember being a small kid and being amazed at the amount of buttons in the cabin and stuff

[milanesa-enthusiast]

rip kim kitsuragi you wouldve loved those realistic plane simulators

[boldlyvoid]

touch me

spencer reid x reader

Summary: Spencer is incredibly touch-starved and hard on himself since coming home from prison. Luckily, the medical examiner in this small town is really good at reading people, and exactly what he needs.

warnings: mentions of cases, insecurity issues, female reader, smut, blowjobs, riding, praise, emotional hurt/comfort. emotional sex, strangers to lovers, hook-ups,

word count: 5.8k

They had been in New Mexico for almost a week, solving a series of murders that seemed to have no end in sight. There was nothing they could do but go back to their hotels to sleep, hoping there’d be a connection in the morning.

Spencer and JJ were sharing a room as the small town hotel didn’t have accommodations for everyone that was visiting to help with the case. They didn’t mind, it was like a long sleep-over.

They did their own thing, kept their space and Spencer really did enjoy overhearing her on FaceTime with her kids. It was refreshing happiness in the middle of the madness murder sadness and despair they were swallowed by.

When his phone rang at 6 am, just shortly after he returned to his room for a quick rest, he sighed deeply, “Dr. Reid.”

“I’m so sorry to do this to you, but another body dropped and I need you to go to the ME,” Prentiss explained softly down the line. “It’s weirder than the other’s and you’re the only person who would be able to work it out with the examiner.”

“I’m on it,” he replied with a tightlipped smile. He hung up and looked over at JJ, already peacefully asleep on her bed. He closed the door softly on his way out, not wanting to disturb her any further.

At the other end of the hallway, Spencer stood and waited for the elevator. It seemed to be taking forever, everything he was doing lately dragged on and on with no end in sight. He was exhausted, still struggling with his PTSS, just all around not having the best time.

He was in the middle of rubbing the sleep out of his eyes when the elevator opened with an equally tired woman waiting inside. “Hi,” she said before covering her mouth to yawn, “sorry.”

“I get it,” he smiled as he stepped inside. “Lobby?”

“Yes please,” she smiled. “Are you here for the case too?”

“Uh, yes,” he answered softly, “I’m Dr. Spencer Reid, with the FBI.”

“Oh, hi! I’m Dr. Y/N Y/L/N, the medical examiner,” her face lit right up. “Agent Prentiss said you’d be joining me I just didn’t think this quickly.”

She was adorable, bubbly and happy in a way he envied. He missed the feeling of random giddiness, smiling at her as he felt the butterflies swirl in his stomach. “Do you need a ride? I have an SUV from the bureau.”

“Yeah,” her smiled got bigger. “That would be really nice.”

They walked closely together through the lobby and towards the parking structure, he hit the unlock button a few times while trying to figure out which SUV his keys matched to. Finally getting in and watching her climb in the passenger seat.

“Do you know anything yet about the body?” Spencer asked as he turned on the ignition.

“Yeah hold on,” she pulled her iPad out of her bag and started sliding through emails.

“Your tech girl sent me the initial police reports, witness statements and overview,” she began to explain. “Like the others, she’s a 25-year-old female, blond, blue-eyed, athletic.”

“Prentiss said it was a weird one?” Spencer added.

“They think she was embalmed before the unsub staged her,” Y/N added with a tone of disgust on her voice. “Do you have your tech girl’s number?”

“Yeah, hold on,” Spencer dug his phone from his pocket and dialled the number.

“Penelope Garcia, the 8th wonder of the world at your service,” she answered after just one ring. “How are you doing on this fine morning, my fine furry friend?”

“Not so hot,” Spencer replied. “I’m with the ME right now on the way to the body, she has a question for you.”

“Oh hello, ask away.”

Y/N was smiling on the front seat, enjoying the show they put on for her. “Um, hi I was wondering if you could look into anyone in this town buying embalming equipment, or if any has been stolen from the funeral home? This town is so under-resourced already, I don’t know where this guy could get this stuff.”

“Absolutely, I’ll add that to my parameters,” Garcia’s voice was lovely and soft. “I’ll call you back if I find anything!”

“She’s lovely,” Y/N exclaimed as Spencer place his phone back in his pocket.

“Yeah, she is.”

Spencer pulled into the morgue’s parking lot, the lights were all on and the Coroners van was parked by the loading doors. Inside there was just 1 officer, waiting beside a body bag as Spencer and Y/N walked in.

The officer gave them both a quick rundown of the crime scene findings, as well as information about where all the equipment was before leaving them to their work.

“Have you ever examined a body?” Y/N asked Spencer.

He nodded, “I’ve been present during a few, held some organs, but I’ve never done one myself.”

“They’re pretty gnarly,” She scrunched her face and giggled. “Let’s get you all geared up.”

She handed him a hairnet, a white plastic suit, goggles and a mask. “Gloves are on the wall, pick your size.”

He felt like a lunch lady standing beside her, taller than her by almost a foot, dressed in all white with a hairnet. He could tell she was smiling at him under her mask, her eyes gleamed up at him in a way that made his heart melt.

He had to remind himself multiple times that this was nowhere close to the time appropriate to want to flirt with someone. They were about to examine a dead body, and potentially solve a case. There would be time to flirt later.

But he was just so amazed by how she worked, being able to tell everything that was going on by just looking at the body. Making notes on her own and only occasionally explaining things to Spencer. In her own little world, solving the puzzle with expertise.

“The other 4 vics were just strangled and staged, dressed up and left in different areas around town,” she ran the case down more for herself, needing to hear the words to make a connection.

“Yes,” Spencer followed her train of thought, tilting his head as he listened.

“She was murdered, embalmed, staged and sexually assaulted. His MO is completely different and it’s only been 2 days since the last body dropped. I think he’s found his signature,” She explained her thoughts. “His sexual aspect comes out only when they’re dead and cold, we’re dealing with a necrophile.”

“While most serial killers start with small animals before moving on to humans, he started with women and then eventually grew to what he really wanted. That’s what we were missing,” Spencer’s eyes lit up.

“He’s a lot younger than you hypothesized in the original profile,” She added.

“You read it?”

She nodded, “yeah I like to know what you’re looking at to see if I have answers.”

“This is really going to help us,” Spencer smiled, his eyes mimicking hers now.

“I can finish up here if you want to go back to your team? I can get a cab,” She offered. “Go catch this guy.”

“Okay,” Spencer said, backing up from the table and taking his equipment off. Placing them in the hazmat garbage. “Are you sure?”

“Yes Dr. Reid, I’ll be fine,” She laughed. “Can I call you if anything comes up?”

He smiled again, “call me even if something doesn’t.” He dug a contact card out of his pocket and placed it on top of her purse. Waving as he walked out of the room.

—

He thought about her smile for the rest of the afternoon, leaving his findings with Prentiss before heading back to his room to sleep for a few hours.

He finally found his way back into the police department 5 hours later, coffee in hand as he tried to absorb all the new information. They had a lead, stolen embalming equipment from a funeral home a few towns over was reported 4 days ago.

He stayed back during the apprehension of the suspect. Simmons, Lewis and Rossi were closer and they didn’t think the unsub would be dangerous. No one was missing and he wasn’t expecting them, should be easy to get him to come in for some questions.

Much like the rest of this case, it didn’t go to plan. They found another woman in his home, having to shoot him in the process. Ending the spree, ridding the world of a necrophile. It just didn’t feel like justice was served when another person had to die.

Spencer sat on his bed, calming down slightly from the end of the case. Saving a woman, killing a murderer, it was all a lot to process in such a short time.

JJ was in her bed on the other side of the room, scrolling through Facebook as she looked at photos of her kids. It was a much easier way for her to calm down, remembering that she could go home to pure, unadulterated happiness at the end of a case.

They heard a small knock on the door, Spencer volunteered to answer, opening it only a small amount as he looked out.

“Oh, hi,” surprised to see Y/N behind the door.

“Would you like to come and drink with me?” She asked, holding up a bottle in her hand. “In my room,” she added.

“Yeah, yes um, hold on,” he closed the door on her softly.

“Who’s that?” JJ smirked at him.

“My friend,” he replied quickly, running to the bathroom to look at his hair and fix his shirt. “I’ll be back later.”

He grabbed his wallet, making sure he had a condom first, before opening the door only a small amount to slip out into the hall. Hiding Y/N from JJ as she tried to look out the door.

“Sorry, my co-worker and I are sharing,” he explained.

“It’s okay,” she smiled, heading towards the stairs. “I’m just a floor up, and the elevator takes a million years.”

Spencer held the door for her, watching her head up the stairs as he noticed the bottle in one of her hands and her shoes in the other. She walked up the steps in her socks, exhausted from the day.

“Did you get any sleep?” She asked him softly as she kept climbing the steps.

“A few hours, did you?”

“Yeah,” she laughed, “I woke up just before they called about the body this morning.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to just go to bed? You’ve been working for 12 hours,” Spencer worried for her.

She reached the door for floor 3, pulling it open with the hand she held her shoes in, “Sleep is the for weak.”

He laughed lightly, “do you want me to hold anything?”

“Here,” she handed him the bottle, “thanks.”

She dug the keycard from her pocket as he followed her towards the right door. Excitement bubbled in his chest as she opened the door and welcomed him inside.

It was exactly like his room downstairs, only there was just 1 queen bed and a few couches by the window. She set her things down on the bed, sighing deeply as she sat on the edge.

“Do you have any cups or mugs?” Spencer asked, reminding her that he was holding the alcohol still.

“Yeah, on the bar table over there,” she pointed. “I’m just going to change in the bathroom quickly, you can pour yourself a drink.”

“Okay,” he smiled awkwardly as he crossed the room.

She dug through her suitcase quickly. Spencer saw from the corner of his eye as she took out some shorts and a shirt, not even slightly worried about being so casual in front of a complete stranger.

He inspected the bottle, it was just a cheap scotch, nothing too special. He poured about an inch of the golden liquid into two cups, not a big fan of drinking but tonight he felt a little risky.

She came back looking more refreshed, very cozy, and still breathtakingly beautiful. He hadn’t felt this way about someone in a long time, the tightening in his chest as he wondered where the night was going to go.

Not to mention the longing he felt.

Even before prison, he wasn’t one to spend a lot of nights alone with a beautiful stranger. The added isolation in his life changed him on a fundamental level, he realized just how much he craved contact, and just how much he’s deprived himself over the years from both men and women. He just wanted to be loved properly.

He silently handed her one of the cups, smiling at each other softly as they tapped cups. Taking the whole drink, “oh, yep that was exactly what I needed.” Y/N’s eyes watered as her face scrunched up, coughing a bit.

Spencer felt the same, only being able to hide it a bit better. The burn was nice on his throat, it made him feel alive. “Did you want to order some food or anything or?”

She laughed, “that would be the smart and responsible thing to do.”

“Are you okay?” He asked softly.

She looked up at him, her shoulders dropping as she released the tension in her body. Looking into his eyes with care, it was so different from the way his co-workers looked at him. She didn’t think he was broken, she had to reason to believe he was even damaged.

“Yeah,” she smiled, placing her hand on his chest as she stepped in closer to him. “Do you like mushrooms on pizza?” She giggled, even this close to him with every opportunity to kiss him, she chose to just make him smile. Something that didn’t happen too often lately.

“I do, it’s my favourite topping actually.”

She took his tie in her hands and dragged him to the couch, “I enjoy topping sometimes too.”

She sat down on the couch and looked up at him, waiting for him to sit beside her. Patting the cushion beside herself while he swallowed sharply, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat, making her smirk.

“I won’t bite Spencer,” she laughed finally. “I’m sorry if that was too much?”

“No,” he said, sitting down beside her quickly. “No, it’s fine honestly, I’m just not used to it.”

“Too busy with the FBI to find anyone to hit on you?”

He shook his head softly, pushing his hair out of his face. “I uh, I was framed for murder and in prison for 3 months. I haven’t really had a conversation with anyone I don’t work with in a while.”

“Oh,” she didn’t look surprised or scared. “That makes sense.”

“What does?”

“You’re soft,” she leaned in to press her hand against his chest once more, eye level with him now. Seeing his eyes dart from her lips to her eyes every few seconds as he licked his lips. “You don’t look like you want to hurt anyone, but something about your aura is changing. You know how to protect yourself now, and you’re stuck thinking you’re still in danger.”

“How can you tell all that just from looking at me?” He asked softly.

“If I showed up at any other man’s door with a bottle of alcohol and the offer of a night alone, I would have been pushed against that door the second we got here,” she explained. “You respect me, almost a little too much.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” His face was soft and curious and proving her point.

“You see me as a person, but I can tell you’re touch starved. Every time I get close to you, it’s like you don’t want me to move away,” her voice was barely a whisper as she leaned in even closer to him.

She could feel his breath on her face, her nose was close enough to brush against his as she stared at his lips, “but you won’t make the first move. You want to protect me from you.”

He nodded his head lightly before rubbing the tip of his nose against hers and making her smile. He let out a sigh, relaxing his shoulders as she straddled his lap, leaning him back against the couch. He bit the bullet and let his hands rest on her hips, looking at her softly in the hopes it was okay.

“Tell me?” She begged, holding his tie in her hands, running it through her fingers as she waited. “What do you want? What you miss? Let me be that for you,” she begged.

“Anything,” he finally tells her. “Just touch me.”

She loosened his tie, freeing his neck finally. She slowly undoes every single button on his shirt, untucking the hem from his pants as she opens it up.

Her fingers are warm on his skin, but he still gasps at the touch. Her fingers were so soft, like angel kisses as the pads of her fingers traced the skin. Gliding over every freckle, raking through his chest hair, bumping along the barely-there abs.

His thumbs rubbed against her bare thighs, where he held her lightly. “You can touch me too,” she whispered.

His hands travelled up to her waist, he gently pulled her in closer. No longer resting on his legs, but pressed close to his chest. Her hands landed on his shoulders, looking down at him with nothing but pure lust as her breathing hitched.

She cupped his face, gliding her thumbs along his cheeks softly as she stared at his lips. He opened his mouth to breathe, his bottom lip was plump and beautiful and she couldn’t help herself from rubbing her thumb over it.

He kissed her thumbprint before taking it in his mouth, sucking on it softly making her hips buck into his lightly. The suction on her thumb was more erotic than she expected, the feel of his hot mouth, his wet tongue swirling around it before he let her go with a pop.

She accidentally let out a moan that excited him, “like that?”

She immediately felt her heartbeat in her clit, she nodded feverishly. Suddenly at a loss for words, wondering where this Spencer suddenly came from.

“How far are we taking this?” He asked softly. “We can stop and order that pizza at any time?”

There he was, the soft and sweet man that she brought here in the first place. “Pizza is even better after sex,” she couldn’t stop the giggle from erupting from her, even as she bit her lip.

He smiled at her like she was the world. A complete stranger making him feel more than anyone had in the last year. “I’m going to need longer than it takes to deliver a pizza,” he admitted.

“Luckily they’re open late,” she compromised, leaning in and finally kissing him.

It was soft at first, then he pulled her in even closer. She was chest to chest with him as he breathed her in deeply. She melted into his grasp as if he had just stolen her soul right out of her body.

She was his now.

She kept his face in her hands, holding him as he broke the kiss to explore her jaw. Kissing every inch of her neck and chest as she gripped his hair, making him moan as she used her nails to comb through the long locks.

“Does that feel nice?” She cooed, running her nails along his scalp as he tilted his head back.

“My favourite thing,” he explained as he closed his eyes, letting her repeat the same motion again and again.

He looked so peaceful, running his hands over her back and sides softly as she massaged him. She leaned in and kissed his cheeks, the tip of his nose, both eyelids and his forehead.

He wanted her to touch him everywhere, her delicate touch made him feel worthy for once. Every self-hatred of his washed from his body as she explored him with care, care only one would receive if they were a most prized possession.

He felt loved.

It was overwhelming, he didn’t realize a tear had slipped down his cheek until she was wiping it from his skin. Shushing him softly before kissing him quickly on the lips.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized, embarrassed.

“It’s okay, what’s on your mind beautiful?” She asked softly as she brushed through his hair once more.

“I just,” he looked in her eyes ever so innocently. “I’m not used to feeling cared for, no one pays attention to me this way.”

“That’s shameful,” she looked utterly perplexed. “Look at you? You’re gorgeous, you’re smart, you’re powerful. You’re kind and lovely and soft?”

“But I’m also weird and too much to handle,” he interjected.

“Not to me,” she corrected him. “this morning you could have said nothing in the elevator, you could have driven by yourself and awkwardly waited till I was finished my work. But you didn’t, you had a conversation with me, you helped me many times, you cared about me making it back here safely and you didn’t even know me. You’re a special kind of person Doctor Reid, and anyone who doesn’t see it is an idiot.”

He pressed his lips together in an awkward smile and furrowed his brow, “do you ever give out parts of yourself to everyone because you know how hard it is to feel appreciated?”

“All the time,” she laughed softly. “But not now.”

“Me either,” he whispered. “Thank you.”

“I’ll make you a deal, you tell me the worst thing you’ve ever done and I’ll tell you mine,” she offered. “Even the playing field.”

“How so?”

“Right now you think I’m super nice and kind right? And I just told you how I feel about you, but you hate yourself and outside of here I hate myself too. Share a secret, we can be fucked up together,” she smiled.

“In order to keep myself safe in prison, I poisoned a batch of heroin and almost killed a lot of people,” he responded without thinking.

“Okay,” she was a little shocked that he gave in so fast. “One time I stabbed a guy who tried to touch me after I pushed him off me twice already. He didn’t die, it barely even went in.”

“Both are technically self-defence,” he shrugged.

“See?” She smiled. “You’re not as bad and scary as you think you are. You’re smart and cunning.”

“Are you sure you’re not a therapist?” He teased her, “because this has been better for me than any therapy appointment I’ve ever gone to.”

She laughed again, kissing him softly. “I think it would be against the rules for your therapist to do this, I guess that’s why some men cheat.”

“How so?” He just liked listening to her speak.

“It’s easier to be open with someone you’ll never see again than it is with your therapist or wife because there are no consequences. They can’t judge you or hold anything against you, they do what you paid them for and they leave,” she explained herself.

“I’d like to see you again,” his voice barely a whisper. “If you’d like that?”

She nodded softly, “maybe I’ll move back to Virginia, finally.”

“Is that where you’re from?”

“Born and raised. I moved to Albuquerque with my girlfriend 5 years ago, and she left me about 2 years ago now,” Y/N explained. “I liked my job too much to move all the way back there and start over.”

“I can put in a good word for you where ever you want,” he offered before he could stop himself from looking too desperate.

“I’ll look into it,” she smiled.

He kissed the centre of her chest again before pulling her into a hug. Hearing her heart beating in her chest softly as she pressed her cheek to the top of his head and rubbed her hand over his back. Soothing him so completely, he felt beyond amazing.

And then she was gone, pulling back from him and standing up. “Wh-?” Before he could even ask, she was lifting her shirt off.

He stared at her breasts, eyes wide and jaw dropped. She walked over to the bar, taking another shot before she pushed her shorts down and climbed onto the bed. Completely naked in under a minute.

He stood then, pushing the opened shirt off his shoulders and immediately undoing his belt. He took a condom from his wallet before kicking off his shoes, dropping his pants and underwear to the floor and stepping out of them.

She was laying back against the pillows when he crawled over her, resting his naked body against hers ever so slightly. She just smirked as she looked up at him, “hi.”

“Hello,” he whispered.

“What do you want?” She asked.

“You.”

He kissed her softly on the lips, or at least he planned to. Y/N wrapped her arms around his back and pulled him down against her. Swiping her tongue across his bottom lip, begging to make out with him, finally.

Grabbing and tugging at each other as everything started to heat up, she could feel his erection against her leg as he ground down on her. Sucking on his tongue, lightly making him moan into her mouth.

His hair kept tickling her face, every time she’d push it away it would just fall right back against her skin. She pulled him off by his hair, gasping for air as they stared at each other again.

“Can I be on top?” She asked lightly.

He wrapped his arms under her, holding her close as he rolled over. Watching her settle more onto her knees as she sat on his hips. “Better?”

“Much,” she said as she sat up, taking a hairband off her wrist and putting her hair up. Raising her arms in a way that made her tits perk up. He reached up and cupped them, rubbing his thumb lightly across her nipples before giving them a squeeze.

She just laughed as she finished her ponytail, “having fun?”

“Absolutely,” he smiled up at her.

His hands followed the curve of her body, from her boobs to her waist and down over her hips. She was stunning, confident, everything he ever wanted and more.

She found the condom in the sheets, the bright purple packaging making it easy to see. She played with it in her hands, seeing how long it would take before he got desperate, but he never did.

“How long have you had this?” She asked, trying to tease him.

“Not long,” he was honest. “I just got out of prison, remember?”

“So you haven’t had sex since before you went in?” She looked excited.

“No, why?”

She smiled, “so I’m taking your free man’s virginity.”

“I don’t think that’s a thing?”

“It is now,” she giggled before leaning down to kiss him once more.

Trailing kisses down his neck, stopping only to suck a mark near his Adam’s apple. Hearing the sweet little gasps he made every time her tongue came in contact with his skin. She kissed his clavicle, his shoulder and down his chest. Making her way across his abs and over his lower tummy.

He gripped the sheets, not knowing what she had planned or where she was going. Spreading his legs, she kissed his groin, his right hip bone and the inside of his thighs. He couldn’t believe it, the way she explored him so delicately.

She ignored his cock for a while, kissing and sucking at any and all the visible skin she could find. He felt her smile against his thigh then, getting closer and closer before she took his cock in her hand and kissed the base.

He let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding in, settling into the bed like water filling a glass, he was liquid in her hands. Her mouth was a blessing and she chose him to worship.

“Fuck,” he moaned as she took all of him as far as she could. Dragging her tongue along the shaft as she pulled back up. Swirling her tongue around the tip before taking him all the way in once more.

She pulled off with a pop, sitting up now with his dick still in her hands. She tore the condom open with her teeth, taking the package off and rolling it over him.

His dick bounced back against his stomach when she let go of it, hard enough that it had a mind of its own now. She bit her lip as she lifted herself over him more, setting herself down softly where it laid against him.

The head of his cock brushed her clit as she ground down on him, his hands found her hips once more as he instinctively helped her find a rhythm.

He could feel how wet she was, the way she glided over him so easily. Her breath hitching every time her hips bucked, she was enjoying herself. It made him even more excited. She leaned back down then, kissing his neck once more as she continued to push down on him.

“I need you,” Spencer gasped.

She smiled against his skin, lifting her hips enough for him to line up with her before she started to sink down on it. He watched himself disappear inside of her, feeling the way she took him in like he was always meant to be there.

“Fuck,” she gasped as she sat down fully, her hands resting on Spencer’s stomach as she tried to get used to it all. Listing herself up and down little by little to get the rhythm going again.

Spencer pulled her back in again, arching her back so she could bounce easier. She held him close, tucking her face into the crook of his neck as she started to move faster and faster on him. Hearing his breathing pick up as his grip tightened on her asscheeks.

She kept one hand in his hair as her other hand reached for her clit, pleasuring herself slightly the way she knew she liked it. “Jesus Christ,” she whispered against his skin as she fucked him.

It had never felt like this before, it was so personal for the first time. They worked together perfectly, not having to communicate at all, following the other person’s rhythm like a well-oiled machine with a task.

He felt her everywhere. Her hands in his hair, her lips on his neck. The way her hot breath tickled right under his ear as she tried to catch her breath against him. The way she pulled off him and sucked him back in, again and again, her breasts against his chest and her ass in his hands.

He couldn’t believe it. That a real human being cared about and appreciated him, even after learning his worst secret. She was special and different and everything he needed.

He could feel himself getting closer, wanting to savour every moment with her that he could. His hands roamed her back, over her shoulders and arms. He wanted to touch every single inch of her while he had the chance.

“I’m so close,” she whispered in his ear, kissing his cheek and resting her open mouth against his.

They weren’t kissing, they were panting over each other with their foreheads resting together. Euphoria filling the empty spaces between them as she came, gasping and shaking violently over him.

“Fuck,” he groaned, bending his knees and driving into her a few more times before he finished.

She tugged on his hair then, biting his bottom lip as she felt him twitch inside of her. Letting out the smallest gasps and whimpers as she pulled her hand out from between them and pushed herself off him.

Dropping her body against his, resting her head on his chest as they caught their breath.

He wrapped his arms around her, holding her in a hug as he repeatedly kissed the top of her head. “Thank you,” he was still out of breath as he said it.

She smiled, laughing against his skin again as she hugged him back.

—

He woke up to the sun in his eyes and the feeling of lips against his skin. He blinked as gained consciousness, finding Y/N laying against his chest again. Her face in his heck where she was placing lazy kisses, trying to wake him up nicely.

“Good morning?” His voice was groggy and deep, it made her smile against his skin. A feeling he didn’t realize he missed so much during the night.

“What time is your flight back?”

“10:30, why?” He asked softly, rubbing his hand over her back softly.

She held him tighter, breathing him in deeply as she did so. Not wanting to let him go any time soon, “it’s 9:45.”

“Is it bad I’m hoping there’s a secret serial killer in Albuquerque?”

She laughed again, sitting up this time so she could look at him again. “Maybe I’ll come to visit my parents soon a find a reason to stay in Virginia?”

“I’d like that,” he smiled, pulling her into a kiss. Never wanting it to be the last one.

He waited till the last possible moment to finally peel himself out of her grasp, trying to find all his clothes and belongings from the night before

He kissed her quickly at the door before taking off down the steps and back to the room he was supposed to be sharing with JJ. He knocked on their door lightly, hoping to every god on earth she hadn’t left yet.

She opened the door and just stared at him with her mouth open, “oh my god?” She laughed.

“What?” He asked, completely oblivious to how he looked.

JJ dragged him inside, pulling him towards a mirror and pointing at his reflection. “What happened to you?”

His hair was a mess, he had hickeys all over his neck. His shirt was barely buttoned, definitely not untucked and he didn’t even have his shoes on. “oh.”

“Oh?” JJ couldn’t believe it. “Who is she?”

“Um, the ME from this case,” he explained, scratching the back of his head as he squinted.

JJ just laughed then, “hurry up and look somewhat presentable, pretty boy, the team is going to eat you alive for this.”

Sure enough, when he finally sat in his little corner of the plane with his glasses on and a hickey still visible above his collar, all eyes were on him. No one wanted to ask, they all just made it abundantly clear that they were curious.

Alvez even took a photo to send to Penelope, who sent it to Derek, who texted Reid only 20 minutes into the flight asking who she was. He rolled his eyes and put his phone back in his pocket. About to get really pissed when a second text came in.

555-0623: if you’re still serious about that recommendation, there is a spot available at the DC medical examiner’s office… I’d probably be closer to you than your therapist’s office 💋

He smiled then, saving her number and starting his letter.

[bakugohoex]

“probably married to this dumbass”

pairing: katsuki bakugo x female reader

cw: pro hero (aged up) fluff, language, implied 18+ and kissing 

word count: 2600+

a/n: i was in the mood to write some bakugo i have three requests atm so if you guys want to send in more i’ll write someee

summary: in which you and bakugo get interviewed on a talk show on what it’s like being pro hero, what turns into a simple where do you see yourself in five years leads to your relationship being announced on live tv

↞ back to my hero academia masterlist

You and Bakugo were in love, you knew it, your friends knew it. The people of Japan however had no idea, you were seen just as partners on patrols when out and about. They had no idea of the lewd things Bakugo whispered in your ear as you tried to make sure there was no crime going on. His aim of being the number one hero was becoming a reality, his personality from UA had changed, he may still be the loud explosive man, but he was sometimes kind to civilians. You stress the sometimes.

He would help people get up and tell them off for falling, his logic made sense, but you still loved him even if half the time he was screaming. You had both been asked to be on a talk show that aired at night so nothing you and Bakugo ever saw as you spent many hours at your shared apartment fucking.

It was a love language for the shouty man, and you wouldn’t lie and say you didn’t love coming home to be pinned against a wall. Feeling ever so small under his gaze filled with lust and love.

“You’re telling me, me and Y/n have to be on a fucking show.” He hollered at one of the girls who was currently interning.

“Don’t shout Katsuki.” You mutter giving a more sympathetic look to the poor girl. “It might be fun.”

“Fun.” He raised as eyebrow shouting, as he dragged you to a secluded area of the hero agency. “Fun would be making you beg for my dick; this is not my idea of fun princess.”

You rolled your eyes at his comment as his arm rested on the wall, he leaned further and further towards you. “If we go then tomorrow we get the day off.” You move your finger up his arm to his shoulder, “we can do whatever you want to do.”

You were taunting him; he gave a smirk however falling right into it. You couldn’t lie you wanted to get dressed up and gain some attention. “Whatever I want yeah.”

“Whatever you want baby.” You cooed as he smirked, he watches as your hands moved to his hero costume, his exposed neck as you brushed your finger across it about to move it to his lip to brush against.

He quickly walks away as you huff as the lack of contact, not even a kiss goodbye. You followed as you saw him storm to the girl who looked scared for her life, he must’ve said an okay as she gave a small smile to you. You smiled back before Bakugo came back.

“It’s at 7, they want us to look nice for the reputation of the agency or whatever.” He crosses his arms leaning against the desk you had leant against.

You were all giddy now, happy that you were able to look pretty, even with your very much exposed hero costume due to your quirk needing more skin contact, you still wanted to feel pretty in something that you didn’t associate with hero work. “I know you’re happy to look all amazing, but even if you turned up in a bin bag you’d still be the prettiest girl in the room, dumbass”

When Bakugo spoke you instantly blushed at his comment, he was never one to outright praise you with hero work, but as soon as it came to your relationship and making you happy he was always one to compliment you, even with it ended with him calling you dumbass. But at least you were his dumbass.

You had been made to choose from a couple dresses as they wanted you to look drop dead gorgeous, you chose a red one that matched Bakugo’s eyes as it hugged your body and went to the ground, it had thin straps and you couldn’t lie and say that if Bakugo saw you in this he would want to tear it right off.

You had been told someone would do your make up at the show’s base, and to Bakugo’s dismay the two of you had been separated. Being guided to the base, you sat down eagerly as you saw women and men surrounding you, they did your hair and your make up effortlessly making you look like an absolute goodness. 

They were really pulling out the stops for this one thing, it was rare for you to do talk shows as you were more into interviews that were pre recorded and edited. Live ones were more Deku’s and Bakugo’s thing though.

“You look gorgeous.” The same girl who had told you about the talk show spoke as she held the dress out.

“Thank you.” You smiled back as you put the dress on, you had worn the necklace that Katsuki had got you which had the letter K on it assuming people would think it was anybody’s name and not the man who in a couple minutes would walk out with you.

A red bracelet wrapped around your wrist as you wore a couple rings on your fingers, the promise one encasing your ring finger, it had a small gem in the middle of the gold band and you had refused to take it and your necklace off as it meant so much to you.

Before you knew it was nearly time to go and you saw as Bakugo huffed walking in with a man, Bakugo was for sure not paying attention as the red button up adorned his chest and black trousers clinged to his legs. He had left the top two buttons open, wearing similar rings to you with the black ring you had gotten him around his own ring finger. It was small and thin but inside had your name inscribed in it, he loved it and would wear it with anything, the feeling of it around your throat always sent shivers down your spine.

As soon as he noticed you standing in front of him, he was dumbfounded, he couldn’t even speak, looking at you up and down. He walked towards you putting his arms around your waist, “You’re too gorgeous to resist princess.” You blush as he turns you around so he can get a better view of you.

He loved the sight in front of him, your confident nature was brought out through the dress, everything about the way you looked defined you and it made him fall even more in love with you.

The girl from earlier had gestured for the both of you to go in, Bakugo let go of your waist, missing the touch of your hips on his ever-irritated cock. You both smiled as you saw that there was even a live audience. Bakugo walked in like he owned the place as you just kept straight not wanting to trip in the heels they had made you wear.

“Welcome both of you, come sit, sit.” She gestured as there was a long couch waiting for the two of you, Bakugo let you go first as you sat closest to the host and Bakugo sat beside you, your legs touching as his arm wrapped to the back of the couch, ever so relaxed. “So, we have Pro Heroes Dynamight and (your hero name), better known as Katsuki Bakugo and Y/n Y/L/N.”

You smiled at her as Bakugo didn’t speak or look at her, he had been dragged in this due to thinking with his downstairs brain at the heat of the moment. But seeing how happy you looked in the dress how could he ever have said no to you?

“So, first off we need to know what got you to want to become heroes.”

“Katsuki.” You mutter if he wanted to talk first, you noticed that in a lot of these live stuff he liked talking a lot, but his normal chatty nature had changed as if he was in a trace and the cause was most definitely you. “Okay well, it’s probably the most basic reason but I saw a hero save someone and I instantly fell in love with the idea of saving and helping people.”

You knew it was common for many heroes to have this sort of epiphany, you heard Bakugo speak as he sat up right, “All Might of course, from seeing him I knew I wanted to be number one hero.”

He had a calmer demeanour trying not to shout or get as pissed off as he usually did, you smiled at him as he looked down at your body again. “Do you have any advice to any kids out there who want to be heroes?”

“Work hard and even if it doesn’t work out at first you’ll still be a hero in your own way.” You smile out.

Bakugo laughs at the comment, he knew you were being nice for the show as he knew what you’d have really said, “If you suck, you suck, get strong or you’ll die.” Your eyes grow wide at his bluntness.

“Katsuki.” You scowled at him as the host and the audience laugh, you hit his chest feeling his hard muscles underneath.

“It’s the truth Y/n, you started to sugar-coat stuff.” He raises an eyebrow as he leans back again.

The host continues to ask questions as you answer enticingly as Bakugo makes remarks that lift the comfort of the room, you had finally becoming comfortable, the host asking about UA. “So, we heard that you two went to UA together, were you two friends, did you get along?”

Bakugo was the first one to speak, you two had been dating since UA and had kept it a secret from everyone except for Class 1A, as soon as the dorm system had been implemented it made it a lot easier to be around each other and one by one the class found out. Even with continuing dating after graduating they all knew you had remained strong together and it was a surprise nobody had found out on the amount of dates you two went on.

“Yeah we were friends I guess; we were in the same class and spent time with the class together.” He smiled as he thought of the days were you’d both sneak into each other’s rooms to be able to cuddle at night. His taller frame always encasing you in love. “She was a pain back then though.”

You glare at the boy before you interrupt up him, “me a pain, I distinctly remember you pissing off everybody.”

You laughed as he glared back at you, “seems like you two really are the best friends everybody talks about.” You nodded as to try and not blow your secret relationship. “Now for the finally question of the night, where do both of you see each other in five years?”

You had never been asked something like this, you were only in your early twenties and five years is a substantial difference now then it was in your teens. Where would you be? Would you and Bakugo remain strong with you still be partners would Bakugo be the number one hero. You carefully thought trying to get a satisfactory answer out.

Well you had clearly been thinking because Bakugo blurted out the words nobody had expected, “probably married to this dumbass.”

Your head shot as he had his arm around the couch still, his legs spread as if he was waiting for you to sit on his lap. “K…Katsuki.” Realisation hit him as it made his mouth went dry.

The host looked before the two of you noticing, how Bakugo’s arm moved to behind your back, your legs touching, the K necklace around your neck and the look of love that surrounded the two of you.

“You two are dating?” She asks.

He gives a look to you as you nod at the idiot, “Yeah since our UA days, isn’t that right princess, you were always obsessed with me.” The nickname rolling off his tongue as your face flushed a bright pink.

“Katsuki you liar.” You mutter, the mic still picking up on it as you could hear it play on the speakers.

“That is adorable, you two are such a cute couple.” The host coos as you smile at her.

“Yeah we might be cute but dating his is like dating a kid.” You laugh as you were trying to get back at Bakugo for embarrassing you.

“I expect it would be” The host smiles as the audience still hadn’t said anything only watching at you two. She wrapped the show up as you could almost hear your phone go off in the other room.

The host said goodbye to you both as the audience watched intensively as they walked out, “you and your big mouth.” You mutter to Bakugo as he grabs your hand walking you to the side.

“But now we can go on dates anytime we want now, idiot.” He laughs.

You shrug as he still held your hand, not bothering to change he grabs your bag and clothes as he takes his own, passing you your phone as he remained holding hands with you. “Twitter has gone mad.”

“Yeah cause two sex god’s have been dating and they never knew.” He smirks as you push into his side.

“Mr and Mrs Bakugo, there’s a car waiting outside for you.” You almost choke on the name as you look at one of the producers.

“It’s Miss Y/L/N.” You spoke softly but she hadn’t heard as Bakugo grinned at the thought.

“Come on Mrs Bakugo, our cars waiting.” You wanted to rip his throat out, as you both walked outside.

Fans around the both of you as Bakugo put an arm tightly around you, he didn’t want this to happen, but he basked in all the attention. “You’re enjoying this too much.”

He grins looking down at you as he goes to you ear, “It’s because tomorrow you won’t be doing any walking at all.”

Your face reddens at what he said, the sex addicted Bakugo was too comfortable and having said that in front of fan only made your face blush even more. He opened the door for you as you got in, he followed as he sat right beside you, the driver taking you to your apartment.

“We could always have some fun here.” You watching his hands move across your thigh, slowly getting higher and higher at every touch.

“You’re such a perv Bakugo.” You hissed slapping his hand, his quirk created little sparkles as he lifted your dress up, putting his hand inside as he grabbed your thigh. The hotness making your legs shuffle at the closeness it had to your pussy.

“Your perv though princess.” His antics continued and before you knew it you were inside the elevator to your apartment, his hands around your waist as his chin rested on top of your head. “I love you.”

He spoke calmly for once without any snideness or ulterior motive. “I love you too.” You reply back as you turned to face him, your hands wrapping around his neck as you leant in and kissed him, his arms wrapping around your waist, the kiss deepening as he pulled you closer towards his body, he groped at your hips as he moves to your ass, squeezing it through the thin material. The elevator opened up as his teeth bit into your bottom lip as you retracted, the feeling of him remaining on you.

You knew what was going to occur for the next day and you knew you certainly weren’t prepared for losing the ability to walk for the next week. But as he watched you look gorgeous in the dress you watched over him with the same love and lust. You were perfect for each other and nothing would ever change that.

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[cringelordlikesplaz]

Strange to be an Eel

Turning into silly putty wasn't the strangest thing that had happened to him, honestly. It’s everything that happened after that which was weird.

"Please! I'm begging you, Jake bailed last minute and we don't have any replacements! This musical is our last chance. If this flops, we'll never be able to keep this place open!" She cried. 'She' being a short woman with desperate tears in her eyes and too many freckles. 

Eel pulled his wrist out of her surprisingly strong grip. He shook his hand off and observed the woman in front of him. She looked stressed, tired, and a general mess. Her name tag read ‘Penny’.

"Well, Penny." He said curtly, "I got things to do. Better things to do than-"

"But you're the perfect fit! You're the right size, you already know all the lines-"

"Seeing a musical five times doesn't mean I've memorized-"

Penny snapped to attention and pointed her finger into the air dramatically. The imaginary audience located in the storeroom fell silent. 

"And if I'm not here to save the day- Then as God as my witness, I'll be here to save the night!"

"-It's 'then as the gods as my witnesses'." Eel pointed out. Penny smiled smugly and Eel shook himself off.

"That doesn't prove anything. And it doesn't change the fact I can't go onstage!" Eel said.

"You'll be wearing makeup and goggles! A hat too! No one will be able to recognize you in costume!" Penny said, suddenly desperate again.

"No! I won't do it!" Eel said in response to her puppy eyes.

"Please! Please, Bruce Wayne's out there and if this goes well the PR will be fantastic!" She said, tears beginning to fall.

Eel looked up at the cracked ceiling and let out a long, long groan.

"I want 100 bucks." Eel said.

"Deal!" Penny said, the tears instantly evaporating. 

Damn actors.

~~~

So, the musical rendition of the hit show 'The Grey Ghost' went pretty damn well, in Eel's opinion. He was skeptical at first, as anyone should be, but he had to admit it, Penny was right. He was an amazing Grey Ghost. 

It helped that Eel had been a fan of the Grey Ghost since he was a boy, and it also maybe helped that he had snuck into the theater to see the practice runs of the play five times. He had thought he was being sneaky, but apparently theater kids could like, smell intruders. Fresh blood, if you would.

He hadn't known what would happen when he was cornered by a very manic little blond lady, but it ended up surprisingly well. He even got paid. 

After he and the other actors had taken their bows or whatever, Eel snuck back to the storeroom. He pried off the grey suit- it was kinda itchy honestly- and began to dig around for his usual clothes. 

He put his suit on. The nice one, that didn't pinch his shoulders and had all his crap in the pockets. He buttoned up the coat and pulled out his glasses. They were black and pretty slick, if he was honest with himself. Which he was. Occasionally.

The temples were wide and helped hide his eyes from the side. They hid his scar even better. They were sunglasses, unfortunately, not the best eyewear to have in Gotham, but he liked them. And that was enough for now. 

They were also expensive as all hell. Some sort of designer brand. He would wear them till they broke for how much they cost him. 

There was a knock on the door.

"I'm decent," Eel said. 

Penny opened the door and held her clipboard to her chest excitedly. Her eyes sparkled. 

"So." She said.

"So?" He asked.

"So! Y'know how Bruce Wayne was in the crowd tonight?" She asked.

"Yup," He said. 

"He liked it! He liked it so much he wants to fund us!" She said, "And he wants to meet you."

Eel blinked. "He what?" 

"He said your performance was incredible! He wants to meet you!"

"No." 

"No?" She asked, her head cocked, "But you've got so much talent! He could get you a job, y'know." 

"No. Just- no." Eel shook his head. He could just hear the sirens now. "I can't, Penny."

She seemed like she wanted to press him- like she did with getting him into the costume. But something on his face made her reconsider, apparently.

"Alright." She said, sighing, "I'll tell him you're not available."

"Thanks, pal." Eel said.

They stood awkwardly.

"I need to go." He said, pointing behind her to the door.

"I- okay." She said. Penny stepped aside and Eel left the storage room, Penny following behind. She led him to the backdoor.

"Um, thank you...?" She said as he stepped out into the alley.

"It's best if you don't know my name." Eel said.

"Will you be back?" 

"Probably not." Eel said, "What with your success here tonight- I think there's going to be too much foot traffic around for a crook like me to be hidden."

She smiled softly, "You weren't very hidden in the first place."

"I'll have you know I've hidden from cops in more obvious spots."

"I think that says more about the GCPD than it does your skill," Penny said.

Eel huffed, mockingly offended.

"Later, miss." He said, turning to leave.

"Goodbye." She said.

Penny waved to his back and waited for him to slink into the shadows before she shut the door.

~~~

"Eel O'brian." A gruff voice called.

Eel grinned and craned his head around to look at a familiar face.

"Matches! Ol' pal, where've you been? It's been ages." Eel said.

Matches Malone slid into the seat next to him at the bar. The bartender wordlessly handed Matches a drink and Matches wordlessly slid a few bills over the counter.

Eel took a sip of his own drink- a cocktail.

"I've heard there's work around." Matches said, taking his match out of his mouth to take a sip of his drink. Whiskey probably.

"I mean, yeah-" Eel said, rolling the cherry around his glass for the hell of it, "But there's always work around."

"Hmm." 

"Yeah yeah, I know what ya mean." Eel said, nodding. "You want the work that won't have you dressed up as a daisy and punched by a furry. I gotcha."

"Hmm."

"I miss the good 'ol days, Matches. Before all these folks in spandex came along and started going nuts all over town-" Eel paused, taking a sip of his cocktail, "-But I do got to admit it; the spandex is pretty hot."

"I need cash." Matches said, ever eloquent. 

"Cheers to that!" Eel laughed. He downed the rest of his drink, swallowing the cherry. 

"Where's the work?" Matches finally asked, and Eel's grin faltered. Always work and no play with this guy.

But Matches seemed to like him well enough, so Eel wouldn't hold it against him.

"So, new boss in the West part of town looking to hire some folks. I think they're hiding something pretty big, but we won't know that 'till we get there, won't we, Matches?" Eel said.

"Hmm."

"Yeah, me too buddy."

~~~

Things at the new job were getting crazy. Like, really really crazy. Like the type of crazy he spent a great amount of his time trying in vain to avoid. Super crazy.

Pun intended.

It started off fairly normal. By Gotham standards anyway. Looting places. Stealing. Scarin' the living daylights out of folks. Keeping out of the limelight. 

But the boss turned out to be working for an even bigger boss- who had a penchant for monologuing- and Eel couldn't help the sinking feeling he had in his gut.

And then the boss- the small boss and not the bigger, monologuing boss- somehow kidnapped Batgirl of all people and decided to drown her. And he did it in this big glass chamber with a valve on the side. 

He stood in front of it, glaring at each of his men accusingly.

He had each of them turn the valve, adding a few inches of water to the chamber, and taking few inches of air away from Batgirl. He was trying to root out a snitch. Or, as he put it, a bat.

Matches didn't even hesitate. Eel wished he had that guy's confidence.

But Eel? He wasn't a big fan of murder. It made him feel icky. It kept him awake at night. He already had enough insomnia, thank you very much.

And Batgirl- She was just a kid. A baby-faced teenager. Up close, she was no longer a force of nature fighting alongside a cryptid. She was a teenager up to her nose in water, her clothes torn and bloody.

Eel went last.

He put his hands on the valve and-

He couldn't do it.

He wouldn't.

A lot of things happened after that.

The boss (the small one) told the rest to shoot him down, and Eel had a half a second to view his terrible life before Matches tackled him to the floor.

The glass of the chamber broke and the room was suddenly flooded with a lot of water and one very mad vigilante. Then a window got busted in, even more glass flying, and then two Robins showed up- There was the young Robin who was grumpy and the other older Robin that wasn't Robin anymore but Eel couldn't really be bothered to remember his name at the moment.

There was fighting, gunfire, blood, and then there was glass in his hands-

And then Matches had somehow manifested them both outside and set Eel on his feet.

"You-" Eel spluttered, "You saved me!" 

Matches looked at Eel. Eel looked at Matches. The street was quiet. Inside the building, it was not.

"Thank you." Eel said softly.

"...You cost me my payment." Matches said at last.

Eel's face fell.

"I just- She's just a kid, Matches. I ain't a monster." Eel said.

Matches shook his head and walked away, leaving Eel on the sidewalk with glass in his hands.

Guess he was wrong about Matches.

~~~

That day wasn't too bad, though. In the middle of the night he was woken up to a knock at his window. His fourth story window in his crappy apartment.

He opened his window and suddenly a basket was shoved into his arms. He fumbled with it for a second, his hands still raw. There was a blur of movement and Eel was left standing half-naked holding a- a gift basket?

He sorted through it- it had cash and cookies and bandages. It also had a plain white card. He opened it and raised a brow in surprise.

"Thanks for not drowning me!" 

It was signed with a little bat drawn in the corner. 

The cookies were delicious.

~~~

The safe was built into the wall. The safe itself wasn't too big, and the wall was only made of plaster. It would be a pain to lug the safe back to base though. And it would cost precious seconds to hack away at the wall to get the safe out-

There was really only one option. The bomb he had was small and wouldn't do much in terms of excavation- but it would absolutely open up that pesky Wayne-Tech lock.

"Alright guys, we need to get back-" Eel didn't hear anyone. He turned- "Guys?"

"It's been a while, O'brian." Batman said, surrounded by the unconscious bodies of his crime buddies. Well, not really buddies- you get the point.

"Batman! Hello! I don't think we've met," Eel said, swinging on his heel and turning to face his doom.

"No, we haven't. But when I didn't hear word from the police of any of your activity for a few months- well." Batman took a silent step closer. "One tends to worry."

"Oh? Me? Lil 'ol me? You shouldn't have." Eel batted his eyelashes, though the effect was diminished as he was wearing his shades.

"You plan these heists well." Batman said slowly, "You waited until the Riddler attacked to go for this safe. You got past the cameras without setting off the alarm. You tipped off the police of where you'd be- on the other side of town."

Eel tried to reach for the detonator on the bomb. If he could just- "You flatter me, Batman really, but I-"

"We could use a man like that on our side, O'brian." Batman said. "A smart man like you could do some real good in the world."

Eel laughed. That was the most wrong thing he'd ever heard. He laughed but it wasn't funny.

He pressed the button and the bomb started counting down from 10.

"I don't think so, Bats. I'm not the hero type." Eel said, and then tried to make a run for it. Batman caught him by the collar.

"It's not about types. There's good in you."

"I really wish I could stay and chat, but I gotta split." Eel said, slipping his arms out of his coat and breaking into a mad sprint.

The bomb let out a single shrieking beep before it detonated. 

Eel didn't turn back to see what happened to Batman.

~~~

A deal went wrong. Unsurprising. They broke his leg. Unsurprising. He was alive. Surprising! Unfortunately, he was still very much crippled and bleeding out from somewhere. 

He limped along the sidewalk at night, always a dumb thing to do. His vision was either going or the lighting in this city was getting worse by the moment. Given that he lived in Gotham, it was likely both.

He limped into a grassy part of the city- a park of some sort. He'd get caught soon. Or maybe he'd bleed out and die. He couldn't manifest the energy to care either way.

He flopped down onto the grass, for lack of any other bright ideas. He couldn't see the stars through the cloud cover. Tragic. 

"Hey." A commanding voice called. He looked around until he spotted a scantily-clad woman. She was green and wearing leaves and had bright red hair and was looking at him like he was a pile of dead slugs.

Oh. Oh crap. Oh crap that's Poison Ivy.

Eel tried to shrink into the ground.

"Hiiiii Poison Ivy, how's the weather?" He asked. He tried to smile charmingly but it was most likely very strained and bloody.

"Why are you bleeding on my flowers?" She asked, a single brow raised.

"Haa, would you believe that blood makes a great fertilizer?" Eel said.

"It does." She said.

"Uh," Eel had lost too much blood for him to come up with a witty remark.

"Please don't kill me." He said.

"Greater men than you have begged for mercy. What makes you better?" She asked, head cocked.

"I can, uh," Eel panicked, "I can give you my grandma's recipe for caramel coffee." 

Poison Ivy's other eyebrow raised. 

They looked at each other for a moment.

Then, a shrill voice called from across the park.

"Ivy! Come on!! What are you even doing?!" 

Eel was fairly certain he was hallucinating now. Blood loss and all that. Because Harley Quinn, wearing a football jersey and sweatpants, came running up to stand besides Poison Ivy.

"We're going to miss the game," Harley pouted, then took notice of Eel, "Who's that mess?"

"Someone who can make caramel coffee, apparently." Poison Ivy said, bemused.

"I like caramel." Harley said.

Poison Ivy shrugged, "We can keep him if you want."

"I also like coffee..." Harley tapped her chin in consideration, "Yeah we'll take him. Come on, Ivy!"

~~~

That was how he ended up getting high with Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy. His leg was propped up on a table, a bong was being passed around, the apparent football game played on the TV in front of them. They were in a greenhouse and the city’s lights shone through the glass almost magically. This was probably not what someone suffering from blood loss should be doing. Eel almost considered making a break for it. 

But Poison Ivy was the Weed Queen of Gotham, and getting this stuff free? Too good to pass up.

Harely had seemingly forgotten about the promised coffee, but since they hadn’t killed him yet and gave him weed, Eel decided he'd write the recipe down for them before he left.

"I don't get why capes dress the way they do," Harely said, "I mean, rogues have the same problem but like, it's more noticeable with the heroes, y'know?"

"Like, the boob windows?" Ivy asked. Harley nodded enthusiastically. 

"Yeah, yeah! The boob windows." Harely said, "Why do all the guys wear kevlar and body armor and the girls got to show off their tits?"

"Maybe the dudes should show off their tits too." Eel said. 

Poison Ivy laughed and Harely nodded even more enthusiastically.

"Yeah! This guy gets it!" 

"See, if I were to go running around in spandex-" Eel gestured to his very much not spandex coated body, "I'd show off my cleavage all the time." 

"Men don't have cleavage," Ivy pointed out.

"Not with that attitude they don't." Harley said, "Say, Eel, if you ever get tits, come over so we can prove Ivy wrong."

Eel cackled, "Sure thing! And if I ever start wearing spandex as a hobby I'll make sure the V-neck plunges all the way down."

"You'd better!" 

Ivy laughed and Eel was handed the bong again.

~~~

Eel wasn't even doing anything. He was in his apartment, minding his own business. Well actually he was trying to sleep but that wasn't going so well.

Then there was a tapping on his window. Feeling a sudden wash of deja-vu, Eel turned around. There was an otherworldly, haunting green glow coming from his window. 

Pausing, and exercising a healthy amount of caution, walked over to the window.

A UFO hovered outside his window. A tiny one.

Eel rubbed his eyes.

The UFO bonked against the glass, seemingly wanting inside.

"uh," Eel said. Against every ounce of common sense, he opened the window. 

The UFO flew inside his room, casting its light oddly through his home. There was a mechanical whir, and suddenly a robotic arm sprung out from the bottom of the ship.

"Uh," Eel said, regretting everything immediately.

The UFO then grabbed Eel by his good ankle, his other leg still in a cast for a few more weeks. He lost balance and hit his head on the floor. The small ship lifted him off the floor by his ankle, and then dragged him out the window. He tried to claw at the windowsill but the ship was too fast.

"UH,"

He dangled dangerously over what was at least a thirty foot drop. The UFO paid no mind to his panicked flailing, and instead began to go higher.

"OH GOD."

~~~

The small UFO took him to a bigger UFO, of course.

A small hole opened in the underside of the ship, and Eel was brought inside. The inside of an alien spaceship looked nearly identical to its outside, apparently. Weird and green.

The smaller ship finally dropped him off in a large circular room. He was set down gently on his back, but he still hissed in surprise. The metal floor was freezing and he was only in his shorts.

"Uh oh uh oh uh oh..." He muttered.

"Hello, human!" A cheery, buzzing voice greeted. 

Eel looked around frantically and finally spotted a small, glowing blue light.

"Uh, hi?" He said to the light. The blue light bobbed up and down- excitedly?

"Human!" It said, "We are the-"

It said something that sounded eldritch to his human ears.

"-and we saw your performance!"

He blinked.

"...my what."

"On February 7th, approximately 11 months ago, you performed in the musical "The Grey Ghost Strikes Back!"." The light said. Several other colorful lights manifested around him.

"...uh huh."

"If you are wondering why you did not see us, the-" [REDACTED] "-in the crowd on the date of your performance, it is because we were not there."

"Ooohh kayyyy...."

"Batman recorded it and sent us a copy!"

Eel blinked. They were speaking alienese, he was certain of it.

"He also sent along with it 307 other forms of human entertainment as a welcome package to Earth!" It said, "And we must say, we really enjoyed your performance."

A red light, hovering just a little lower than the blue one, perked up.

"We especially enjoyed your performance in the third act, and would like to compliment your singing skills." The red light said.

"Thank you?" Eel said.

"If it is not too much trouble, human, we would like what is most commonly known to you as an 'autograph'." The blue light said.

"...alright." 

~~~

The night started off odd, he'd admit it. But it wasn't bad. He signed some stuff. He didn't know what the things he signed were or what exactly he wrote with, but it hardly mattered. They asked him to sing a song from the musical- he did- and they somehow applauded him.

They gave him alien food, and he'd be damned if he didn't accept free food. Even if it was probably radioactive. It tasted like cotton candy. Again, not bad.

They told him a bit about their situation. Their home- somewhere on a different plane of existence- exploded. They were the last of their kind. Batman approached them, because he could do that apparently, and offered them a place on Earth.

"Our culture is based on entertainment. Each piece of what you call 'media' is like a fine work of art to us." They said. 

"Oh, cool. So do you kidnap actors you like in other stuff?" Eel asked, trying to figure out the best way to consume the slime on a stick he'd been given. He decided there was no proper way to do that so he just decided to slurp it off.

"We would like to meet the actors and actresses in other media, but they usually just scream the whole time they are here. We gain the impression that they do not appreciate our hospitality." They said.

Eel shrugged, "I can't imagine why. You guys are great."

"You have taken this whole experience very well, comparatively."

"I mean- I'm a bit desensitized to weirdness." Eel said.

"Is this experience considered 'weird' to other humans?" They asked.

"Nah." Eel said, waving off their concern, and set his slime stick down, "Hey, I'd like to get home now. This has been fun and all, but it's kinda cold in here."

"Of course, human. We wish you fame and fortune for your future."

"Uh, you too?"

They dropped him off on the roof of his apartment building. The sun was beginning to rise. He made his way down the stairs, nearly naked and his leg still in a cast. He slept okay.

~~~

Eel was known for many things. He knew most, if not all, of those things were bad. Hell, all of the things he was known for would be bad to the common man. But to the common crook? Only most of those things would be considered bad.

Some of the things he was known for made him desirable. 

He was a safecracker, he never got caught, he could make a good plan and stick to it. He was good at his job.

But Eel was not... valuable, per-say. He was a tool in most people's eyes. Something to be discarded when the job was done.

Eel knew this. Made his peace with it. He knew when he took this job that the guys he was working with didn't give two shits about him. But he needed their muscle for the security guards, and they needed his skill to crack the safe. They all needed the cash.

They walked into this big facility during a storm. Mr. Freeze was causing havoc in city hall again. The outer parts of the city didn't get the blizzard- they got the freezing rain.

The security guard appeared- he had a gun and he was willing to use it. If the folks he was working with were smart, which they weren't, they would have ran. Don't shoot back, don't have murder put onto your sentence along with theft and arson and everything else. 

But they were stupid, and they shot blindly, and the guard shot Eel in the shoulder. And the bullet tore through his shoulder and into a container of something-

Another shot rang out, the guard fell.

There was a crack and suddenly Eel was soaked in something- it was bright and hot and it burned like the embers of Hell. He screamed, of course.

The people he was working with, his 'pals', stared at him for just a second.

"Eel-!"

"Eel doesn't have the cash, now run!"

Eel got up, and gave chase. His steps faltered and his vision swam.

He made it outside just in time to see them get into the car and book it.

"Adios, Eel!" 

"You putrid punks!" He yelled, his hand clutching his shoulder. Everything burned. Everything throbbed. His pulse beat in his ears, the rain came down like knives, and the bullet hole poured blood like a faucet. But it was oddly thick- was it? The world kept wanting to wobble and spin.

The- the police. They'd be here soon. Maybe. Eventually. He needed to go.

He walked. 

Down the street, down an alley, then another, then another, until the buildings began to spread out and trees and grass began to coat the land.

The rain was softer here. Warmer too. He climbed a shallow hill. Like climbing a mountain. His heart slammed the inside of his skull like a drum. There was a tree on the hill, its branches bare.

He collapsed beneath it.

He didn't have time to see if he could spot any stars before it all went black.

~~~

Eel's life had always, always been strange.

But it apparently that was just the beginning.

[marvel-sluts]

please don't go.

request: Can I request prompts 3. Please don't go & 16. Enemies to lovers with Tom Holland? 😊 - @palna (sorry it won't let me tag you)

prompt list

pairing: Tom Holland x reader

warnings: swearing, emotional abuse, angst, fluff

summary: you worked with Tom on set and ever since the first day he hated you. one day he overhears a phone call between you and your Dad, making him feel horrible for how he treated you.

a/n: im planning on making a masterlist soon so look out for it! anyway, enjoy lovlies!

***********

you opened the door to your apartment after a hard day at work. flopping onto the sofa and turning on the TV, not really paying attention to the six o'clock news.

that bloody Holland kid thinks he has the right to make your life a living hell. from the moment you met him he hated you.

you walk into the room flashing a smile to the people in there. you had been chosen to play a part in the new spider man movie. having quite a few successful movies under your belt you were well known.

you went round shaking hands with people, each one of them greeting you with a small smile and a hello. that was until you reached a certain individual.

"hi, I'm y/n" you say holding out you hand.

he looked you up and down with a grimace and looked at your outstretched hand, taking it in his and shaking it roughly.

"Holland, Tom Holland."

the buzz of you phone wakes you from your trance and you looked down to see your best friends name flash on the screen.

you quickly answer the phone and her voice can be heard throughout the room.

"sorry to bother you like this y/n but can we go out tonight? I had a shit day at work and need someone to take my mind off of it." she said.

"you read my mind, where do you want to go?" you ask, relieved to have an excuse to leave the house.

"how about the bar down the road from your house?" she said.

"sure, let me get changed out of my clothes first."

"okay I will be at your house in half an hour." she said hanging up the phone.

you run up the stairs and put on a black skirt and a pink shirt, touching up your makeup from filming and pulling on a pair of boots.

a few minutes later b/f/n (best friends name) rings the doorbell of your apartment and you go to greet her.

you reached the bar and grabbed one of the only remaining tables.

"so, what made your day so shitty?" you asked taking a sip of your gin.

"just my dickhead of a manager. he has given me about 5 projects and is expecting them all done by next week." she sighs rolling her eyes at you.

you snort into your drink "like your gonna get all of that done in such a short amount of time." you say.

"I know right. anyway whats going on with you?" she asked, knowing something was up. "is it that Holland guy again? I swear to god I will punch his nose in if he's done anything to you." she said, knowing how much he bothers you.

"there is nothing that you can do. he just gets on my nerves. I don't know what his deal is with me." you say.

"what does he do?"

"glares at me alot, won't speak to me unless its to criticise what I'm doing and just overall makes my life miserable." you say with a sigh.

"and you dad...?" b/f/n asked.

"same as usual, he still hates me and continues to tell me how much of a failure I am." you say rolling your eyes. your dad was a dick, you and him had never gotten on.

"I know, you just have to ignore him. he just doesn't see how amazing you are." she said smiling at you.

"I guess..."

after a few hours of talking and forgetting your problems. b/f/n drove you home.

after getting undressed you collapsed on your bed, exhausted. falling asleep within seconds.

******

you woke up with a start and checked your phone. shit. you had slept through your alarm and you were going to be late for filming.

quickly pulling on clothes and fixing your hair and makeup you ran to your car and got to set only 15 minutes late.

"oh here she is, finally decided to show up did you?" came a chastising voice.

you sighed, knowing immediately who it was, choosing to ignore the comment you walked to your trailer.

the hair and makeup team quickly got to work on you, making you look amazing within minutes.

after throwing a quick thanks over your shoulder, you rushed to set and got told what scene they were filming and where to stand.

half an hour later you heard a "and cut, great job guys. go and get read for the next scene."

you quickly checked your script and realised that you were needed for the next scene, opting to go to your trailer and wait to be called.

suddenly your phone rang, making you jump. you picked it up before checking who it was, assuming it was b/f/n.

"oh you've finally decided to stop ignoring my calls have you?"

shit, it was your Dad. "hey dad, and for the record I wasn't ignoring them. I was working."

"yeah, what job again? that acting thing of yours? how many times y/n, thats not a job."

"okay" you whispered quietly, just wanting this to be over.

"your such a worthless bitch you know that? even your Mum thought that before she died. it was probably you who killed her. admit it y/n. you killed her." he said, trying to press your buttons.

"how many times Dad, the doctors said that she died of a heart attack. it wasn't me." you say.

"pfft, your just covering for yourself. how about you buy me a new house to make up for it?"

"Dad, I just bought you a new house, and a new car. surely you can't need anything bigger." you say, knowing he is just using you but feeling guilty for saying no nevertheless.

"well I want new house, maybe somewhere by the sea. or some big mansion." he said.

"but Dad i was planning on giving some of that money to charity and the rest was going to s/n (siblings name) school fund. so that they can go to a good school."

"fuck s/n, I want a new house. and if you don't then you really would be as fucking annoying as your mother. your no good for anything." he said, hanging up the phone.

a tear trickled down your face. you should have known all he wanted was a new house, new car. why not get a new fucking kid while he's at it. you bought him a new car last month and a new house the month before that, surely he doesn't need another one.

a knock was heard on the door of the trailer that you had accidentally left open. you spun around to see Tom, worry etched across his face. he walked into your trailer.

"hey y/n, are you okay?" he asked, putting a hand on your arm.

"get off of me" you say, shrugging him off. "why would you care anyway, you've had this grudge against me ever since I started here."

Tom's face fell. "I'm sorry y/n I didnt mean to treat you like that."

"then what did you mean to treat me like because it was pretty damn obvious that you hated me. everyone saw it." you said.

"it wasn't you." he said looking down shamefully.

"look if this is about what you overheard with my Dad, don't worry about it. don't tell anyone and continue treating me like shit." you say, turning away from him again.

"no y/n what I overheard made me feel really guilty for treating you how I did. what I did was wrong and it wasn't your fault for how I treated you." he said, grabbing you and forcing you to look at him.

"then why did you do that to me?" you asked, confused.

"just before we started filming me and my girlfriend had broken up, she was toxic and would hit me and scream at me." he said, tears clouding his vision. "the day we started filming was the day I ended it with her, so I wasn't in the best mood. but when you walked in I could of sworn it was her. your hair and eyes are similar but your face is completely different."

"so from a distance I looked like her?" you asked, beginning to put the peices together in your head.

"yes. you had such a kind personality, always caring about others and everyone else loved you. but I couldn't get it out of my head. I guess that's why I treated you so badly, because you looked so much like her."

"Tom you could have just said something, I would have understood." you say, looking at him.

"I know I'm sorry." he said. "how are you, what happened with your Dad?" he asked.

"he keeps asking for new stuff, I just bought him a new house but he wants another one, and he wants a new car when he has the newest model. but at the same time he's always telling me how worthless and stupid I am, and how this acting thing isn't a proper job." you say, "maybe I'm just being selfish."

"no y/n, your not being selfish. I heard what you wanted to put that money towards instead of buying him stuff that he doesn't need. a selfish person wouldn't give to charity and help with paying for s/n schooling."

"are you sure?" you asked, doubt seeping in.

"very sure." he said, "is there anything you need, I could say that you are ill or something, give you some time to think over what happened with your Dad?"

"no I'm okay." you say.

"how about you come round to mine after work, we could talk everything out."

"yeah okay, I'd like that."

******

after filming was over, you drove over to Tom's apartment. he answered the door quickly and let you in.

you sat down on his sofa and admired the little things he had "borrowed" from the sets of different movies.

"do you want a drink?" he called from the kitchen.

"can I have a f/d (favourite drink) please?" you call back.

"sure."

he came back in with your drink and a coke for him.

"look about what happened today with my Dad, I never meant for you to overhear that and I would appreciate it if you didn't tell anyone." you say, looking down at your drink.

"your secrets safe with me, and if you don't mind me saying. your Dad is a bit of a dick." he said, smiling kindly at you.

"tell me about it." you laughed. "he's been like that ever since I can remember, he's always favoured my siblings over me." you say bitterly.

"well don't tell them but I prefer you." Tom said, trying to cheer you up a bit. "and I'm glad I overheard that conversation, because it made me think about I had treated you. and I'm starting to think that there was maybe another reason I didn't like you." he said sheepishly.

"and whats that?" you ask.

"I kind of liked you. I still do. after what happened with my last relationship I was scared I guess but I don't want to fuck anything up. I really like you y/n, I never meant to treat you like I did but I was pushing you away so that I didn't fall further than I already have." he said, blushing furiously.

"well Tom, maybe I like you too. thats why it hurt so much when you were horrible to me." you say. "do you just like me because I look like her?"

"no no no, that's not it at all. I like you because you have this sort of aura around you, people love you and your so nice to people." he said. "I like you because of your personality, the fact that you look slightly like a toxic ex has nothing to do with it." he added as an afterthought.

"aura?" you asked, furrowing your eyebrows in confusion.

"yeah, people sort of want to protect the innocence you radiate. your aura makes everyone love you and it's how your smile brightens up a room and how you look when the sunlight hits your features." he said, gently placing his hand on your cheek, forcing you to look up at him.

"I'm sorry for how I treated you, and it's my fault, but maybe we can start again?" he asked.

"okay." you say smiling up at him. before pulling away from his hand and sticking out your own. "y/n y/l/n, nice to meet you." you say.

"Tom Holland, pleasure." he said shaking your hand.

you turned around as the shrill sound of your phone broke the brief silence, checking the called ID this time you saw Dad appear on the screen. you look over at Tom in fear, showing him the screen.

"answer him y/n, maybe he wants to apologise. and I'll be right here with you" Tom said, flashing you a reassuring smile.

"okay" you said picking up the phone and putting it on speaker so that Tom could hear better. motioning to him to be quiet, him nodding in response.

"hi Dad." the fear in your voice evident.

"how's the new house you were going to buy me coming along? don't forget I want a big one." he said.

"actually Dad, I've thought about it and I just bought you a new car and house. the money is going towards s/n schooling and charity. I don’t think that you need anything else." you say, smiling weakly at Tom who gave you a thumbs up. egging you on.

"I don't care what you think, I'm your parent and you should listen to me. you are such a selfish bitch I don't even know why I bothered with you." he spat down the phone. "you are just a waste of space and I don't know how you made all of this money, who would ever want to employ you?"

"Dad you're not guilt tripping me into buying anything for you like you did last time. I'm not doing it." you say, tears beginning to cloud your vision. Tom noticed this and put his hand on your leg gently. in order to calm you down.

"you're such a fucking bitch. I never want to see or hear you again." he spat, hanging up.

as soon as he had hung up the phone, tears started falling down your face. Tom reached up and wiped away some of your tears before pulling you into his chest.

"hey hey hey, it's okay calm down." he said kissing your forehead and pulling you back into his arms.

"he hates me and its all my fault." you choke out before collapsing into tears again.

"its not your fault, your Dad is just being selfish and is only using you for your money. don't listen to him." he said, stroking your hair to comfort you.

"do you want me to go and get you something? ice cream maybe?" Tom asked.

"no, please don't go. I need you." you say.

"okay, I'm right here love. don't worry I'm not going anywhere." he said.

eventually you fell asleep, with his arms around you and your head on his chest. before Tom drifted off he kissed your temple and whispered "I'm so sorry y/n, I love you."

[leafs-lover]

Because Two People Got Drunk: 43

Chapter 43

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Angst, heart break and heartache, swearing, drinking soft, smut

Word Count: 12000

You are awoken at 8am by Elise stirring slightly beside you. Knowing she is hungry and this is the last time you will get to feed her before the honeymoon you adjust your top and pull her into your embrace. You have plenty of milk in the fridge ready for your trip, but you want to enjoy this intimate moment with your daughter.

She immediately latches and you lean back against the headboard gently brushing her thin hairs from her forehead you stare down at her. Normally you would be completely mesmerized staring down at her; this huge piece of you, piece of Fred resting in your embrace. Just as you had felt with your three sons; and every morning with Elise up until this point.

Normally you use these quiet moments with your kids to try to determine what traits they have taken from you, what they have taken from Fred, their father, the man you are set to marry today.

But not today.

Today you feel uneasy, anxious, a ball of nerves resting in your gut. Your stomach doing backflips, nausea washing over you. Your entire body gets hot, palms getting clammy; you take deep breaths in through your nose and out your mouth, hoping you can make it through the feeding without puking.

You hear Carlee groan at the light knocking at the door, followed by her footsteps on the tile floor. Making your way out to the living room Allie stumbles out of her room wiping sleep from her eyes. Metal squeaking accompanies Carlee as she rolls the tray into the room. She pulls the lids off as you flop onto the couch as Sarah makes her way to join you.

“Good morning beautiful, can’t wait to see you in eight hours when you finally become my wife. Love you xoxo Fred” Carlee reads from a card that accompanies your breakfast. There is a round of “aww’s” from everyone as their eyes fall to you. You swallow the lump in your throat giving a fake smile that nobody seems to see through, still foggy with pre-coffee haze.

The room quickly gets busy after breakfast, Amalie and Charlotte arriving first. Some girls are getting their makeup done, others, yourself included, still having their hair done. You have a white silk robe slung over your shoulders, while all the girls have a pistachio coloured one. Each embroidered with cursive font on the back.

Maybe it’s the buzz in the room; the giggles and chatter, that nobody notices you have barely touched your first mimosa. Or maybe they think you are trying to take it easy, not wanting to be that bride. The bride who spends her wedding with her head in a toilet bowl. Or maybe they think you are pregnant, given your track record it’s not an unreasonable assumption.

Maybe it’s the excitement of Kathy walking in absolutely glowing, six months in to her pregnancy. Or maybe it’s Elise who spends most of the day being passed around the room from woman to woman. Even as she naps she never sees her bassinet, someone always free to bounce in her arms.

But if someone had of looked a little closer they would have seen how your nose scrunched up and you gagged taking that first sip of your mimosa. If someone had of listened they would have heard, well they would have heard nothing.

They would have noticed how 90% of your responses have been under five words, or how most of your responses are half smiles with a small nod of the head. If anyone had of watched they would have seen how you haven’t held your daughter in almost 5 hours, how you are the only person not to rub Kathy’s stomach in hopes of feeling a kick.

If they had of paid attention they would have noticed that you are constantly picking your nails. Your knee is anxiously tapping against the floor, so much so you are surprised a hole hasn’t developed.

If anyone had of noticed they would have seen the emptiness behind your eyes as you slowly fade further and further back.

But they don’t.

Or maybe they do. But maybe they think you are just nervous or so excited you are caught in your head. Maybe this is how some brides feel how some act.

Uneasy at the thought of walking down the aisle.

Uneasy at the thought of getting married.

**

“Oh you guys are gorgeous” you say as your bridesmaids walk into your sight in floor length pistachio A-line dresses. The top has a scoop neck with a white lace overlay and a racerback. The bottom is a chiffon skirt complete with white heels and matching earrings. It’s something you gifted them all with as a thank you for standing beside you, being a part of this day with you.

It’s after 2:30 and everyone is getting into their dresses, you the last person. You hand Elise over to Charlotte having just got her into her wedding day outfit. The seamstress did an amazing job and the dress that was too big mere weeks ago fits her perfectly.

Carlee and Allie lead you to an attached room and unzip the bag, both of them gasping at the dress before them. They of course helped pick it out, but they haven’t seen it since then. And there is a pretty big change that nobody including yourself knew about until the first fitting.

“Hey babe” you call out walking into the kitchen setting your purse down on the counter.

“Hey” Fred’s arms wrap around your stomach puling you back against his chest. “How’d it go?” his hand gently rubs over the bump.

“Well bean here decided before my first fitting was the perfect time to pop, so the dress would barely do up around it” you laugh. “My dress fittings going forward will be interesting.”

“I’m sure you still looked gorgeous babe” his warm breath is on the shell of your ear. “Wear track pants for all I care.”

“Funny thing though” you gently rub your hands over his as he hums in response. “It wasn’t the dress I picked out.”

“Hmm that is weird” he mumbles.

“Yeah see I ordered a white dress, the one  I tried on today was blush.”

You pull his hands away and turn gently in his arms. Your hands land on his shoulders and his eyes stare down at you.

“You wouldn’t know anything about that would you?” you ask quirking an eyebrow.

“No” he shakes his head. “That is super weird.”

“You sure?” you ask seeing him trying to hide a smirk but he just nods in response.

“When I asked them about it they said my fiancé went in and made the change” you explain. “Two days after I ordered it.”

You stare up at him, your gaze getting firmer. Your arms cross over your chest and you take a step backwards until you hit the counter running out of space. Staring into his eyes he is the first to break with a deep sigh.

“Kay. So the girls came down last month and you all went shopping, and that night I facetimed with you.”

“Mhm” you nod.

“You wouldn’t tell me anything about the dress just that you loved it but I could tell you were holding something back. Well Lucas started screaming and you passed the phone to Carlee for a couple minutes. Well I kept pestering them and finally Allie let it slip that she didn’t think you were 100% happy with it.”

Shaking your head slightly Fred continues on, his eyes softening “she said there was this dress in blush and you loved the colour but not the dress. Then you tried on the dress you bought and loved it but it was in white. They said you could get it in blush, but the customization was an additional $5000 so you said no and decided to go with white. She said you tried to pretend it wasn’t a big deal but they could tell you were a little upset. When I got back into town I stopped on my way home. The stylist you had was working and remembered very well how you seemed disappointed. She said it took you over thirty minutes to come out of the dressing room. So I pulled my credit card out and paid for the change then and there.”

“Fred that’s very sweet of you, but I was fine with white” you say softly.

He walks forward and pulls you into his chest before he has the chance to see your face. If he had of waited he might have seen through you, that the problem wasn’t the colour of your dress, something much larger kept you locked in that dressing room. Instead your face is pressed into his chest and he continues on, none the wiser.

“You shouldn’t be fine about your wedding dress. And you know I don’t care about money, the dress even in blush was actually much less than I thought it would be. I just want to make sure this is the wedding of your dreams.”

You should have been thrilled at Fred’s surprise. It should have made you feel like the most special girl in the entire world. That you have a fiancé who is willing to stop at nothing to ensure today is exactly as you dreamed it.

Only thing is this isn’t how you dreamt it. How could you?

Instead of feeling butterflies about seeing Fred you have an overwhelming pit in your stomach. No amount of distractions or mental pep talks making it go away.

Slowly Carlee zips the dress up, working on the couple of buttons of the ball gown. Taking a few uneasy breaths staring at yourself in the mirror, you feel tears prick your eyes, just as Allie attaches the vail to your head.

“You look so beautiful” Carlee squeals fixing some of your hair.

“Thanks babe” you reply taking yourself in. The top is lace and beads, dropping into a low V on the front and back. Below the waist blush coloured tulle falls to your feet, trailing a few feet behind you. It’s not a classic ball gown, lacking the puffiness of a princess dress, but still not having a form fitted bottom.

A part of you was worried about the fit, being pregnant the seamstress only had 10 weeks to make the changes. And during that time your body was constantly changing, adjusting to no longer being pregnant. You had no idea what to expect, and this has been a major stress for you.

Finally ready complete with the earrings Charlotte leant you, the pair she wore on her wedding day. You walk over to the window looking out at the 200 guests who are patiently waiting in your seats, sun shining down on them. The clock quickly approaching 4 and everyone is laughing and chatting amongst themselves, every seat full.

You sigh and sniffle back the tears seeing them.

The two empty seats in the front row.

Walking out to the other room joining your other bridesmaids you notice Charlotte has left. Finding her way to Fred, for him to escort her down the aisle. Only Elise and the five bridesmaids left, all eyes falling on you.

**

“Mommy you look beautiful” you hear your son call. Turning around you see the three of them in matching navy tuxedo’s complete with black bow ties. Fred took you and the kids out a couple months ago to the tailors to pick out the looks for the groomsmen and the boys but you never imagined they would look this adorable.

The dark fabric against his light skin, matching suspenders and hair combed to the side just tugs on your heart strings. A white boutonniere pinned to the outside of his jacket. Fred styled his hair off to the side, his wavy red hair framing his face. You wipe away a stray tear quickly picking him up for a big hug.

“Oh my goodness look at you” you coo pressing a kiss to his cheek. “You are just the most handsome best little man.”

A smile tugs on the edge of his lips and a blush hits his cheeks “thanks mommy.”

“How is daddy doing?” you ask giving him another kiss tickling his side.

“He said I can’t tell you” he giggles making you laugh. You hoped Oliver would divulge some details into how Fred was handling today. If his nerved were getting to him, or if he was calm, like when he is in net on game day.

You wish he hadn’t told him though, you wish Oliver would tell you he is anxious. That he had to pour himself a glass of whiskey to calm down, his leg was tapping anxiously against the wood floor. That he was being pulled in two different directions while trying to play it off. But it appears Fred beat you to the punch, telling your child to stay tight lipped.

“Oh and look at your brothers” you say trying to distract yourself as Mitch stands there, holding each of the twins hands. They have on identical suits to Oliver, hair combed over to the side. “All of you are just so handsome.”

You walk over completely bypassing Mitch and scooping them for a big hug. You press your lips to their foreheads holding your three boys tight. Oliver begins to groan about it being too tight and you release him standing up to be met with Mitch.

“Hey Mitch” you say straightening his bow tie before he wraps his arms around you for a tight hug.

“You look beautiful momma” he says into your ear.

“You look nice too” you smile.

“I look better than nice” he scoffs jokingly. “Is the little lady ready?” he asks looking over to Elise. Wide eyes and smiling in her bassinet dressed in a white dress. It has a lace top and tulle bottom, a large bow tied around it, a white floral headband on her head.

While planning the wedding you tried to find a way to include all of the kids in the day. When you thought you were having a boy you planned on one of the bridesmaids pulling him down the aisle in a wagon. With the surprise of having a girl you switched to a groomsman pulling her down the aisle, and Mitch immediately volunteered to escort her. During the ceremony she will be with Charlotte in the first row but you still wanted to have her be a part of the ceremony.

“Yeah we just have to get her in the wagon” you respond as he walks over picking her up. He grabs a blanket placing it over his crisp suit to protect himself from the potential baby vomit, before pressing her against it. She coos in his arms reaching out to grab his thick brown locks giving them a tight yank.

“Okay” the planner comes into the room scanning around at everyone “Fred is ready and waiting for you.”

“Ready” Carlee comes up wrapping her arms around you for a tight squeeze. You feel yourself tense at the words, fists clenching firmly. Your nails dig harshly into your palms and you take a few uneasy breaths. Unclenching your fists you see the crescent shaped marks you left behind. All day you thought these feelings would go away once it came time to walk down the aisle, but instead bile rises in your throat.

Pulling away she sees some tears in your eyes, your bottom lip beginning to quiver. “Hey don’t cry” she wipes away the tears with her thumbs. Immediately recognizing these aren’t happy tears, they are the tears that often come before a collapse of emotions. Her voice drops to a hushed whisper as her lips find your ear “what’s going on?” she whispers.

She pulls you in tight and an involuntary sob slips from you before you breakdown against her. The room goes quiet only your sobs echoing as her hand tangles into your curls holding you close.

“(Y/N)” she whispers running her other hand up and down your back.

Your chest heaves and you fall apart in her arms “I don’t know if I can do this” you whisper through a deep shuddering breath as Allie comes up to you wrapping her arms around the two of you. Your chest tightens and your breathing gets erratic the room feeling like its crumbling around you.

“What do you mean (Y/N)” they usher you over to the couch your head falling onto Allie’s shoulder, Carlee crouching down in front of you. The silence that fills the air is deafening. You can feel the tension in the room as everyone watches on, waiting to see how everything unfolds.

“You don’t want to marry Fred?” Carlee asks softly squeezing your hands, your body stiffening at her words.

Your eyes stay locked on your feet but you crumble hearing her words, your heart breaking into a million pieces. You become frozen unable to respond, everything around you fading into the background. Taking a deep breath, anxiety brewing low in your gut slowly inching its way up to your surface

You don’t know how long you sit there, your eyes glazed warm tears barreling down your cheeks. Allie gently squeezes your hand and you remain frozen eyes locked on the floor. “What do you need babe? Need to run, we can do that.”

Silence.

Over what feels like the next hour Carlee and Allie try to talk to you. You hear Oliver object while Mitch, Amalie and Sarah usher the kids outside to provide you with privacy. His cries make your stomach churn and your chest tightens but you can do nothing to help calm him down. You barely have control of yourself at this point.

You spend the next ten minutes sobbing against Allie’s shoulder, Carlee constantly dabbing your tears trying to preserve your makeup. You have a tight hold on one of Carlee’s hands and one of Allie’s as they try to encourage you and talk you down. But it’s no use.

Your hands are shaking, blood running cold while the ringing in your ears drowns everything else out. They become inaudible; the only sound you hear is your heart beating through your chest. You feel like you are outside your body watching everything unfold. Stuck in a glass box and no matter how hard you pound your fists against it, it won’t break.

Tears are streaming down your face, and you know nothing will ease them at this point. Biting the inside of your cheek, the taste of copper fills your mouth. Your entire body tenses up “I can’t” you say pushing up from the couch walking away “I can’t do this.”

“(Y/N) you can do this” Carlee says walking up to you.

The blood pounds in your ears. Your heart thudded in your chest. Your hands trembling, feet tingling as you kick your shoes aside. You have to get out. You cry harder, chest growing tighter as bile rises in your throat. Your fists are so tightly bound you expect to draw blood

“No!” you yell stopping her in her tracks “you need to get me out of this.” Turning around to show her the buttons on the back “I can’t breathe you need to get me out of this.”

“Okay okay okay” she fumbles with the buttons, Allie coming to help her. Finally you push it down your body and step out of it standing in just underwear. Immediately you fall to the cool tile floor your dress in a pile a few feet away. Bending your knees and putting your head between them taking a few deep breaths.

You don’t move sitting on the cool floor in your underwear taking deep breaths while your friends silently look on, unsure of what to do next. Seconds feel like minutes, your heart still pounding through your chest. “I need Fred” you whisper so low it’s almost silent.

“What sweetie?” Allie asks your head not lifting from between your legs.

“I need Fred” you repeat and hear her heels click against the floor as the door shuts.

**

“Wow Frederik” your mom calls walking over to you. She grips your face placing a kiss on your cheek “you look so handsome.”

“Thanks ma” you place a kiss on her cheek pulling back slightly “you look great too.”

She smiles wide “ready?” she asks fixing your sleeve. You can see the tears resting behind her eyes, seeing her first born on his wedding day.

“You have no idea” you laugh holding an arm out for her. “I can’t wait to marry her.”

“Well between you and me, she looks absolutely beautiful” Charlotte says kissing your cheek again. You just smile in response, you have no doubt she is going to be breathtaking. You don’t even know if you’ll be able to get through your vows without breaking down.

Her arm links with yours and you begin the walk down the aisle, past the crowd of onlookers. Scanning around you see friends and family on both sides, team mates from all your years in the NHL scattered around.

You don’t spend much time scanning the faces, mostly looking ahead to your awaiting groomsmen. To the altar where you will finally get everything you’ve ever wanted. The squared off altar with soft coloured cloth draping it, white, red and pink roses mingled in it. The large oversized lanterns, soft coloured flowers littering the edge of the aisle, the oval backed brown chairs.

You had no idea this is how it would look. (Y/N) showed you pictures throughout the entire process, but you mostly helped nudge her when she couldn’t pull the trigger. The colour of flowers, the shape of the twinkiling lights, size of the candles. None of them really mattered to you, so you mostly tried to figure out what way (Y/N) was leaning and encouraged her to choose that. She wasn’t always subtle on what option she preferred, but all you need is her standing across from you and nothing else would matter.

But taking in the décor, all you can see is (Y/N). Everything looks amazing, not that you should be surprised. Kissing her cheek she makes her way to her seat and you finally take your spot at the altar beside your groomsmen. Next are the bridesmaids, your kids and then (Y/N).

You shutter just thinking about how in less than thirty minutes she will be your wife. You have the four most amazing kids, and soon this woman you share everything with will be your wife. You thought your family was complete when Elise was born, but today is the final piece to your forever.

“You ready for this” Auston whispers in your ear and you quickly whisper a yes not even bothering to look towards him. Your eyes stay locked down the aisle waiting for them to appear.

Scanning around the crowd you can see the guests getting antsy in their seats. You didn’t go through how long after you arrived at the altar the bridesmaids would start to walk but you are beginning to think it’s taking a little longer than expected.

Shifting awkwardly on your feet you turn to your watch, over twenty minutes late. While being punctual isn’t always her strong suit when dealing with four kids, today is the one day you can’t imagine she will be late.

And that’s when you see her.

Allie.

Quickly making her way down the aisle.

Too quickly.

That’s when it hits you, you shouldn’t be seeing her. It should be Amalie first. And Allie doesn’t look happy, she looks stressed. You swallow the lump in your throat as she comes up to you, turning you so your back is to the crowd.

“You need to come” she whispers in a hushed but assertive tone. “(Y/N)…” she trails off “(Y/N) needs you. Now.”

Your back stiffens at the firmness in her voice. Before she spoke you knew something was wrong, but hearing her tell you that makes you want to fall apart. Instead you turn saying nothing to nobody and head in the wrong direction, back where you came from minutes ago.

Gasps and whispers fill the crowd, your mom trying to reach out for you but you are gone. Long strides propel you down the aisle, once around the corner and away from the guests you take off running. Past Mitch who is bouncing Elise. Past Amalie who is trying to distract the twins. Past Oliver who cries out for you as Kathy holds him so he can’t chase after you.

Opening the door you don’t know what you expect. But it is not (Y/N) naked on the floor, her dress haphazardly thrown in a pile on the floor. Her head between her legs as she takes deep breaths. Her cries the only thing you hear.

Your stomach churns as you watch the site unfold in front of you. Swallowing back the lump in your throat, your heart breaks into a million pieces. Carlee shooting you a soft half smile before wordlessly slipping out around you.

**

You hear his dress shoes click on the polished floor. He can feel the pain rolling off you in waves long before he reaches you. Sighing he slides onto the floor beside you crossing his ankles. He doesn’t say anything, watching your chest heave, listening to your strangled sobs. He glances over at you. You can feel his gaze burning into the side of your head but you refuse to meet his eyes.

Too frozen, too afraid of what you might see. What you have caused. You don’t know how long the two of you sit there, but he doesn’t talk, he doesn’t touch you. He sits. Silently. Uncomfortably, Heart breaking as every second ticks on, but he knows you need time.

Finally your tears begin to subside, the walls pulling back from around you. Your knees bent and arms curled around them you take an uneasy breath mustering the strength to stare at Fred who has yet to move.

Your eyes flick to meet his deep brown orbs, they are glazed over, the tears pricking his eyes yet to fall. He stares down at his feet taking some uneasy exhales waiting to see if his life is about to unravel in front of him. His face is a blanket of panic and fear and it bruises your heart.

You see the pain in his eyes, the pain you caused and you immediately crumble yet again. Your head falls onto his shoulder, the touch startling him. He closes his eyes, focusing on the gentle touch before taking a deep breath. Without thinking he pulls you into his lap, wrapping his arms around you. He holds you tight to his chest, worried this is the last time. That if he lets go he’ll never get to hold you again.

One hand tightly grips your arm his other gently stroking up your cool skin. You continue to sob against his chest, but relax against him. You feel him exhale because you didn’t recoil from his touch. The silence in the room is ominous certainly loaded with meaning.

You don’t know how long you sit on the floor with him “you still want to be with me?” he hesitantly asks. Hearing him say those words breaks you. It’s not the words themselves, it’s the absolute despair and heart break he tries to hide but even still you hear the fracture in his words.

“Do you actually think that?” you whisper.

“Up until five minutes ago I had no doubts at all. Then Allie comes barreling towards me and I find you sitting in your underwear, your dress in a pile on the floor. Now I don’t know what to think.” The strain in his voice trying not to let it crack tears your heart in two and sends warm tears barreling down your cheeks.

You choke on your tears, pulling your eyes up to meet his. The look on his face nearly kills you, inadequacy, rejection, humiliation. The silence hangs thick in the air, a gentle thumb wipes the tears that have stained your cheeks. You smile lightly at his actions. As he sits there waiting to find out if you are about to break his heart he still is putting you and your needs first.

“Is this a Cody situation?” he whispers.

“What?” you say a little too harshly.

“Your ex”

“I know who Cody is Fred” you groan.

“You once told me you didn’t know why but you couldn’t commit to him that something was missing. When the time came for you to decide you couldn’t do it. Is this” he trails off trying to find the strength, but you don’t know if it’s to ask the question or for the answer. “Is this like that?”

“No. I love you Freddie so much” you whisper unsure if you can use your full voice.

“What’s going on babe” he asks softly thumb gently stroking over your cheek. Your bottom lip trembles as you struggle to find the words before you finally choke out“my parents.”

You watch him exhale the breath he has been holding onto for the past few minutes. His shoulders relaxing slightly but he still keeps you tight to him. His arms had never felt better wrapped around you. Holding you safe.

You have had a pit in your stomach for months, but you tried to push it aside. You have known since you were 12 that you had to do this on your own. You weren’t going to call your mom and facetime her minutes after accepting the proposal. Your dad wouldn’t cry when he saw you for the first time in your dress, your mom wouldn’t watch on during the father daughter dance.

You have been telling yourself it’s normal, that these feelings are to be expected but on the actual day you thought excitement would supersede your anxiety. But now you are wrecked with nerves and you just know you can’t do it. You can’t stand at the altar, with two empty chairs in the front row staring back at you. Seats that shouldn’t be empty, seats where your parents should be sitting.

Neither one of you says anything, Fred allowing you to cry against his smooth suit fabric. He feels your body slowly begin to relax, your sobs becoming less strangled but he doesn’t say anything giving your arm a soft squeeze. The soft thudding of his heart helps to slow yours down, calming you down.

“I’m sorry” you say faintly.

“Don’t apologize, I can’t imagine what you’re feeling right now” he hums pressing his lips softly to your temple. You melt into his touch and instantly felt all the tension he had been holding escape.

“I didn’t think it would be this hard” you sigh. “I thought I could make it through today, I didn’t expect to feel this way.”

“You didn’t think you’d miss your parents on your wedding day” he laughs lightly.

“I don’t know” you groan. “I thought I would be too busy to think about them, with everything going on. But now all I can think about is them; how they aren’t here.”

“How long has this been going on?” he asks knowing this didn’t start today.

“For a while” you mumble “first happened when I tried on dresses.”

You spent twenty minutes having a breakdown in the dressing room over the fact that your mom wasn’t there. That she didn’t get to be a part of the experience with you. You had long known she wouldn’t be there but that day sitting in the dress you fell apart. You told your friends you spent the time trying on dresses that you instantly knew were no’s and that’s why you were in there for so long. There have been a few times since then, but that was the first moment you truly missed her.

“You want to run” he asks causing you to snort slightly. “We don’t have to get married smuk. We have four kids and two houses. You already are my wife; I don’t need some piece of paper that says that. Just need you.”

“No Fred” you laugh for the first time all day. “I want to marry you, I just…I need a minute to miss my parents.”

“Take all the time you need, I’m not going anywhere” your head falls onto his chest listening to the soft beating of his chest. The light thud against your ear slowly soothes you, and for the first time in a while you feel at ease.

Finally you smile at him “I am so happy I have you.”

He leans forward to gently press his lips to yours. The kiss starts soft and hesitant. A kiss that tastes and feels like home making your arms wrap around him as you sink into the kiss. “I love you” he mumbles against your lips as he captures his breathe before returning his lips to yours.

His hand squeezes your arm tightly as he groans against you tongue sliding back inside your mouth. You run your fingers through his hair gently tousling the curls as the kiss becomes more heated. Fred is the first to pull away breathless, lips covered in your lipstick.

“I’m ready now” you say capturing your breath.

“Sure you don’t need another minute” he smirks pulling your face forward for another heated kiss. His tongue slips inside your mouth, your hand gently raking through his scruffy beard.

“So if it’s bad luck to see each other on the wedding day, what do you think kissing is?” he laughs against your lips.

“Let’s go” you rise to your feet pulling him up. Feet firmly planted on the ground you finally feel grounded. He pulls you back into his chest your arms tangling behind his jacket and he presses one last kiss to your forehead. The two of you stand there for a few minutes before you pull back. “You have lipstick all over your face” you tease.

“You’re naked and late to the ceremony” he quips back. “See you down there babe” he presses his lips back to yours before slipping back out the door.

**

“For years I’ve watched guys stare at their families through the glass, smiling at their wives and doing some pregame ritual with their kids. I never realized just how jealous I was of them until I saw you on the other side.”

You smile at Fred, the gentle breeze blowing through your hair, warm sun shining on you. The pond is your back drop a low chirping of birds and rustling of trees can be heard. Even though you saw Fred not too long ago, walking down the aisle was the first time you managed to take him in. Swathed in smooth navy, his hair slicked back, sun reflecting off his red hair. Everything you could have imagined in life standing a few feet away. Your hands gently resting in his as he recites his vows, you having just finished yours.

“When I saw you there bouncing Oliver in your arms I knew I wanted you there for every game. That I need you to be there every game. Feelings I thought were gone were suddenly awakened seeing you with our son. I knew I could have everything I ever wanted in life all I had to do was yes to love…and get you to agree.”

You roll your eyes and a few members of the wedding party chuckle but he continues on unfazed. “You are so funny and always able to make me laugh. But I don’t love you because you are funny or smart or kind, I love you because you are my best friend. I love how when you smile you get these cute crinkles by the corner of your eyes and the dimples in your cheeks. How when your favourite song comes on you will involuntarily start dancing while you cook dinner or make yourself a tea. That when you are truly happy your face lights up with the purest of radiance.”

You hear some commotion to the side cutting Fred off. You and try to ignore it, Fred clearing his throat when it gets louder. A smirk crosses both your faces glancing to the side to see Noah fussing. Fred opens his mouth but is cut off by a loud shriek followed by a “momma.” In typical fashion Lucas picks up on the fussiness of his twin and begins to squirm joining in the crying.

“They missed their nap today” Fred explains causing everyone to chuckle. Your eyes glance to the side and you see Charlotte and Ernst trying to soothe the two of them before bringing your gaze back to Fred. There is a sparkle in his eye with a wide grin spread across his face as the twins begins to calm down.

Clearing his throat he goes to start again “I can’t imagine my life without you” he starts but is quickly cut off by their cries again.

“One sec” you take a few steps and pull Noah into your arms. As you grab him Lucas is quick to call out “momma” and make an up motion with his fists. Shaking your head you pull him on to your other hip bouncing the two of them they begin to calm down as you return to Freddie. He quickly pulls Lucas from you, his head falling onto his dad’s shoulder relaxing against him.

Placing a quick kiss on his forehead and brushing some of Noah’s stray hairs he curls up on against you. “Okay ready” you smile taking your one free hand to grip his.

“I love that you are an amazing mother” he laughs bringing a hand up to Noah’s cheek brushing away the few tears that fell. “You are a fierce protective mother, and always put the kids first. Almost to a fault sometimes” he glances towards the boys who are standing up at the altar with you, not with their grandparents a few feet away. A large smile spreads across your face but you don’t care. The past few years your lives have been centered around being a family, and having them up there with you for this feels right.

“I had no idea when I met you that you were going to implode my life, but in the most amazing way possible. But now I can’t imagine a day without you. Standing here with you there isn’t a single thing I would change because it all led me to this point. I only went out for a drink and I got a whole lot more than I bargained for.”

He turns his attention to Lucas and places a soft kiss on his forehead. He has since calmed down and is resting against Fred, his eyes getting heavy. Turning back to you he smiles as Noah sleeps against your shoulder and chuckles. “Can’t believe all this happened because two people got drunk.”

“Geez” you laugh rolling your eyes as a few of the guest’s chuckle in response.

“(Y/N)” the officiant says “repeat after me. I, (Y/N) (Y/L/N), take you Frederik, to be my husband. I promise I will be faithful to you and honest with you; I will respect, trust, help, and care for you. I will continue to share my life with you and build our dreams together. I will love you and honour you, and be by your side for the good and the bad times, as long as we live.”

Taking a deep breath you smile at the man standing in front of you. One arm is holding your tired son, the other is holding onto Fred’s free hand “Jeg (Y/N) (Y/L/N) tager dig Frederik. at være min mand.”

He takes a deep sigh hearing you repeat the words back in Danish. It’s something you have been planning and working towards over the last couple months, trying to embrace this part of his life, your children’s life. Charlotte was eager to help you while she was visiting and you have been working on it since then. You sat down with her a few nights ago to repeat it one more time and she told you it was perfect. That you finally got the few words you have been struggling to pronounce.

“Jeg lover, at jeg vil være tro mod dig og være ærlig over for dig; Jeg vil respektere, stole på, hjælpe og passe på dig. Jeg vil fortsætte med at dele mit liv med dig og bygge vores drømme sammen. Jeg vil elske dig og ære dig og være ved din side til gode og dårlige tider, så længe vi lever.”

As soon as you finish he steps forward and his lips gently brushing against yours. It’s a soft and brief kiss but his hand lands on your hip to keep you close. His tongue traces along your lip, as your mouth opens. Before he can slide his tongue in you hear laughter from the guests. But it’s Oliver announcing “daddy is kissing mommy” that makes you laugh into the kiss and pull away.

“You’re ridiculous” you mumble softly and Fred just shrugs it off smiling wide to you.

**

Your hand trembles slightly sliding the ring on his finger, partially from the excitement that he is now your husband, but also because it’s slightly more difficult with a baby sleeping in your arms. Once it’s finally on his finger he laces his hands with yours and takes a step closer, minimizing the gap. His eyes drop to your lips, but this time he waits for the minister to tell him to kiss you. He glances slightly to his right before back to you, his tongue licking his lips slightly.

“I now pronounce you husband and wife, you may kiss your wife...again”

Before he even gets the words out Fred ducks down to bring you in for a kiss. Unlike the last one this is full of passion and heat. He slides his tongue in swiping across the inside of your cheek while his free hand finds the small of your back. You groan into the kiss bringing your free hand up to his beard. Your tongues continue to fight for dominance, and you begin to feel heat hit your cheeks.

You never imagined your wedding day kiss would be so heated. Thinking of all the people staring you chuckle lightly and pull away from him, foreheads still touching. Fred has a wide smile as he closes the gap once again, this time for a soft and brief kiss.

**

Everyone has wide grins on their faces, laughter filling the room around you. Multiple conversations are happening at every table, Fred chatting with Auston and Mitch while you are sitting, watching people enjoy themselves and having an amazing time. Fred’s chair is right beside yours, one hand resting on the tulle that covers your bottom half, a glass of whiskey in his other hand. Scanning around the room you smile taking in your friends and family, alcohol and laughter coursing through them.

Suddenly you hear a shriek and look out to see Lucas with orange juice staining his white shirt. Charlotte is quickly making work with some napkins to try and clean him, but you know it’s no use, the stain unlikely to come out.

“It’s not a big deal” Fred says into your ear.

“I don’t care" you smile turning your attention to Fred.

“You don’t care?” he repeats almost baffled.

“Why would I?” you move closer and breathe in his cologne, your hand landing on his thigh. “We have kids, they spill things, besides that shirt won’t fit him in a couple months anyways. And I’m married to the most amazing man, we have the most amazing kids. All of our friends and family are here, nothing else matters.”

“Almost everyone” he corrects brushing his lips to your temple. “What would they be doing if they were here?”

Taking a sigh you turn to him with a tear lining your eye. “Dad would always have a beer in his hand, walking around talking to everyone. Be the life of the party, laughing with anyone because if he didn’t he’d break down over his daughter getting married.”

“And your mom" he laughs taking a small sip of whiskey.

“She would always have one of the kids in her hands. You wouldn’t see her once without them. She’d hold Ollie and be out on the dance floor with him, rocking E to sleep, and constantly be playing with the twins to get them to laugh. She’d probably miss the cake cutting or a speech so encapsulated with them.

The only thing she wouldn’t miss is the father daughter dance. She’d watch the whole thing tears rolling down her cheeks.” You laugh slightly pulling back some tears.

“They would have loved you” you turn to Fred smiling.

“Yeah? The guy who got their daughter drunk and pregnant after one night?” he laughs.

“Well maybe not at first” you chuckle. “Dad would have hated you then, been an absolute dick to you. Even once we started dating he still would have been short with you, my mom would have had to talk to him. He reluctantly would have invited you golfing to appease both of us but he’d make it known he was only doing this for us and he wasn’t going to have a good time. Then he would see what I see and the two of you would become best friends.

He’d always have your favourite whiskey in the bar, ready and waiting for you. He’d go golfing and play tennis with you on weekends, tell you that you are barbequing wrong“ you say laughing lightly.

“Wish I got to meet them elskede" his lips gently brush against yours.

“Me too" you turn back to the scene unfolding, curling into his chest as his arm wraps around your shoulder. “Me too.”

**

“Oh my god that is just the cutest thing ever” Steph says staring onto the dance floor. Turning your attention over you see a few couple scattered around dancing before finding what she is talking about. Fred holding your daughter against his chest and you see his lips moving, him whispering to her as she sleeps in his arm, moving with the beat of the song.

You grin wide looking out, leaning against the bar behind you “I know he makes my ovaries explode” you groan as you feel of wetness go straight to your core.

“Watch it or you’ll make baby number five” she adds and you through your head back laughing.

“No, there will be no baby number five” you laugh. “But when he does shit like that it becomes hard for me to not want another.”

“Just wait until he sees your lingerie later he’ll be saying the same thing” Steph smirks winking at you.

Groaning you turn around to face the bar to order a drink while you continue to talk to her. The lights brighten slightly and you hear the DJ say something about a change of pace before feeling the bass vibrate under your feet.

“What are you ladies talking about” Fred asks as you turn around to find him, Auston and Mitch joining you by the bar.

“You guys having baby number 5” Steph teases and Fred chokes on his drink while Auston’s eyes go wide.

“Oh my god I said there will be no baby number 5” you laugh as Fred pulls you into his side, relaxing his grip. “We were actually talking about your girlfriend Maddie” you look to Auston.

The two of them have barely been dating for 6 months; Fred told you he is actually crazy about her, never having seen him like this with a girl. He told you Auston deleted all his dating apps and hookups phones numbers within weeks of meeting her and Fred thinks she could be someone serious for him.

He waited a bit to introduce her to the team and bring her to a game. She is a little more reserved and he didn’t want to overwhelm her with this part of his life, but this is the first time she has been around a large group of players at once.

“Wondering when it will be your wedding” you deflect some of the attention off you and onto him. His cheeks heat up and he shifts on his feet with a smirk on his face.

“It’s a little soon for that” he says softly but a part of you doesn’t believe it. He has basically been attached to her all day, constantly pulling her onto the dance floor, hand resting on the small of her back.

“Stop teasing him, he’s in love” Mitch teases.

“Fucking hate you guys” he mumbles.

“Elise and the twins are heading to bed, Ollie says he hasn’t had cake yet so he won’t go” Fred whispers in your ear. He grips your hand and pulls you over to the kids to say goodnight and goodbye, not seeing them until you return from the honeymoon.

**

“I don’t know if I’ve told you today, but you are absolutely breathtaking” he murmurs in your ear pulling you back against his chest. You just spent the last few minutes with Oliver spinning him on the dance floor, his laughter almost louder than the music. The lights have been dimmed; mostly it’s the warm glow from the twinkling lights and candles illuminating the space.

“You might have mentioned it once or twice” you turn your head to glance at him.

“Once or twice” he presses his lips to your temple “I need to up my game.”

Leaning back your head rests against his chest watching Oliver lead Mitch to the treat table to grab another cupcake. “You know for someone who never stopped pestering me about her wedding band, you haven’t even looked at it.”

“Oh” you realize. “I guess nothing really matters except the fact that I’m married to you” you smile.

You raise your hand and turn your attention to examine the rose gold band resting around your finger. There are multiple tiny diamonds evenly spaced around the band, shimmering back at you in the light.

“Oh it’s beautiful” you gasp examining the band, spinning it on your finger. Something about it looks familiar but you can’t place it.

“Mhm” he hums. “Recognize it?”

You stop fidgeting the ring and try to think of the one Charlotte has, maybe he had one designed to be similar to it. But her band is gold, and doesn’t have the number of stones placed on it. And you know it isn’t your grandmothers. Her wedding band is the one her mother managed to keep hidden during WWII, it’s a simple gold band with one small stone. But somehow this ring feels very familiar.

After a few minutes you finally sigh and turn your head back to look at him. There is a few beads of sweat in his hair line, only wearing his dress shirt having discarded everything else a while ago due to the heat. The top couple buttons of his shirt are undone, his chain visible on his hard chest.

“No I don’t” you say eyes trained on his.

“It was your moms” he says softly and you feel tears hit the back of your eyes threatening to spill out.

“What?” you choke out turning around in his embrace.

“Your grandmother offered it to me the day I asked them for permission” he explains, hands resting on the small of your back. You bring your hand back up into your view as you other tangles around his back, grabbing a chunk of his fabric.

“You’re dad had good taste” he says leaning down to press his lips to your forehead and a few stray tears start to roll down your cheeks.

“I can’t believe you-“ you choke on your tears sniffling against him. “I can’t believe you did that.”

“Seriously? I was so happy when she offered it to me There was no way I wasn’t going to give you this ring. ” He gently brings a hand to yours lacing his fingers with yours and gently spins the band around your finger with his thumb.

“I wish they were here babe but this ring is a part of them. It represents their love, their marriage and their family. I can’t think of a better wedding band for my wife. Every time you look at it you will think of me and my love for you but also the love they shared.”

Your tears continue to fall as he tightens his arms around you. A slow song has begun to play and he slowly rocks the two of you to the beat, holding both of your hands against his chest. He hums the tune, his lips gently pressed against your forehead.

Standing tangled in his arms you have never felt so at ease. You realize that as long as you have Fred, you have everything you will ever need. Everything in life will be okay, and even if it isn’t somehow everything will sort itself out.

**

“Why don’t you put me down” you giggle as Fred struggles with the key. It’s not a typical key card it is an actual key and he is fumbling to unlock the door while your arms are wrapped around his neck.

“It’s our wedding night, I’m going to carry you over the threshold” he mumbles finally getting the key in.

“So traditional” you smirk pressing your lips to his neck, sucking soft marks under the collar of his shirt. His bow tie was long discarded and top couple buttons released.

“Be a lot easier if you weren’t distracting me” he groans as you gently nip his skin. You chuckle lightly hearing the door unlock as the heavy wood frame creaks open. Stepping inside he kicks his shoes off and the door softly closes behind him. He carries you into the living room of the honey moon suite and you pull back turning your head.

The low flickering of the candles on every surface capturing your eye. Next you see the countless bouquets of flowers, your favourite flowers, scattered around the room. He lets you take it in for a few minutes before bringing you into the bedroom. There is a selection of chocolate covered strawberries and other fruit with champagne waiting on the dresser. A rose petal heart on the bed and he quickly drops you on it, petals scattering around the white duvet.

“You do all this?” you ask softly.

“It’s the honey moon suite babe, I think they just do this” he smirks.

“Uh-huh. And the flowers? They just knew these are my favourite and brought in easily a dozen bouquets.”

“Thirty one” he corrects crawling over to you. “They did the candles, champagne and stuff but I may have called the florist last week about the flowers. For the record they would like more than a weeks’ notice to fulfill this along with the wedding bouquets, centre pieces and everything else. Might have paid a lot for these” he smirks “but you’re worth it.”

“One bouquet wasn’t enough?”

“Nope” he grins as a hand finds the back of your neck pulling you towards him. His lips brush against yours hooking an arm around your back he slowly drops you to the bed, hovering over you he closes the gap with a wide grin on his lips. You moan against him, tongue tracing along his lower lip your hands find his dress shirt grabbing a fist full of fabric. His jacket and vest being long discarded.

Your hand moves to the front of his shirt, giving it a tug to free it from his dress pants. “Someone’s eager” he groans as your fingers find the buttons of his shirt, slowly releasing them.

“I’m just excited to have sex with my husband” you grin emphasizing the word.

“Husband” he smirks against your lips “I like that.”

He pulls away rising to his knees and takes over the buttons of his shirt. He slowly pops the buttons revealing more skin, your eyes wandering over his bare chest. Dragging the fabric off his arms he discards it in a pile in the corner. Next his belt clanks against the wood floor, and he is off the bed. He pushes his pants down his legs tossing them in the pile of clothes, leaving him in just boxers.

Your eyes rake over his body, taking in every curve of his muscle. Taking a deep breaths your hips voluntarily arch up towards him. He grips your wrist pulling you onto your feet and spins you around “This dress looks amazing on you" he hums in your ear.

“Believe it or not it looks better off" you moan.

“Oh baby I know it does" his hands gently rub up and down your arms. His mouth is gently nipping the skin on your neck, his words sending an electric current straight to your core. His large fingers not in a hurry, slowly popping the button. You feel him fumble around your back struggling to undo the small buttons before dragging the zipper down your back.

His hands find your shoulders, gently pressing the straps down your skin but you step away from him. “I have something” you explain walking to the bags in the corner.

You pull out a small bag and Fred immediately knows what is waiting underneath the white tissue. “Save that for tomorrow” he pulls the handle from you dropping it on the floor.

“But I bought it for tonight” you whine.

“Baby I know you are going to look phenomenal in whatever lingerie is in that bag. But honestly I don’t want to wait for you to get changed only to have to take it off two minutes later, that’s two minutes of me not fucking you.”

He ducks his head down, warm air ghosting over your neck “and baby all I want to do tonight is fuck my wife.”

Hearing him call you that almost makes your knees buckle, heat rapidly building in your core. You too want nothing more than to feel his cock stretching you out. “I’m wearing it tomorrow night” you command.

“Look forward to it” his fingers return to your shoulders pressing the fabric down your body. A mess of blush tulle landing at your feet and you step out of it. Fred bends down to grip the back of your legs but you stop him picking up your dress to hang on the back of a chair “it’s expensive “ you shrug.

Once in front of him you push him backwards until his knees hit the bed and he slowly falls back. You drop to your knees in front of his quirking an eyebrow while your fingers toy with his elastic band. You can see the large bulge tenting his boxers making a fire ignite in your core. As you pull the fabric down he lifts his hips slightly his thick member slapping against his stomach.

Your moth waters staring at his throbbing cock, precum dripping form the tip. “Fuck” he groans as your lips wrap around him, tongue cleaning the sticky liquid from his tip.

Your tongue swipes up the vein on the underside of his shaft and his eyes practically roll into the back of his head. Soon you begin bobbing on him taking more and more each time, your hands gently stroking up his thighs.

You swirl your tongue around him, your nose pressing into his pelvis. Your eyes stay locked on his, watching as his snap shut and he takes a few uneasy breaths. Digging your freshly manicured nails into his thigh his hips buck up, tip resting against the back of your throat.

“Babe” he whispers, unable to use his full voice. Although quiet you hear but you don’t stop continuing to bob up and down on his long member.

“Fuck (Y/N)” he says more firmly as one hand begins to gently massage his balls. “You can’t do that.”

He pushes you off him, saliva dribbling down your chin and a pout crossing your face.

“Why?” you pout “I want to suck my husband’s dick.”

He swallows hard at your bluntness, eye lids fluttering. You shoot him an innocent look, squeezing your breasts together between your arms and batting your eyelids to him. Shaking his head he grips your wrist and pulls you harshly onto the bed.

You land hard on the mattress and he quickly rolls over you spreading your knees with his thick thigh. He manipulates you to raise your hips, pulling the remaining piece of fabric, thin white lace, down your legs. “Because baby I want to do this.”

You gasp loudly as two of his fingers find your folds, gently playing with your entrance. He moans feeling how wet you are, wet and full of need, waiting for him. You smile against his touch and his lips gently press into your temple.

“You’re soaked eh” he smirks sliding his two fingers over your heat, coating them in your juices. Before you can respond they part your folds and sink in. His thumb presses into your clit while his fingers begin to fuck in and out of you at a slowly building pace.

“Fred” your entire body squirms at the feeling and you hear a quiet dark chuckle against your neck. His mouth begins to place warm open mouth kisses all over your neck and chest, before finding your breasts. He licks over the orb before sliding his tongue between the valley of them before sucking on your nipple. You slide your hands over his bicep, your feather like touch making his fingers curl into your G-spot.

“I’m gonna cum” you warn feeling the slow build low in your stomach.

“That’s the whole point” he smirks increasing his pace.

“Not fair” you whine at the fact you couldn’t take him to completion but he isn’t going to stop until you do.

“Want me to stop?” he teases popping his head up to look into your eyes.

Your nails dig into his shoulders, your lower lip being pulled through your teeth. In an attempt to answer you only muster a need filled whimper and he just quirks an eyebrow in response continuing to pump his fingers in and out of you, thumb pressing harshly into your clit.

“Good” his lips land on your cheek before finding your collarbone. He nips the skin, dragging his tongue along you “this is my favourite part” he muses.

You tilt your head slightly and he pulls back, dark brown eyes finding yours. He gives you a wink and the coil in your stomach is now tightly bound. A few final thrusts, you chanting his name through breathless pants and it snaps. Pure euphoria floods your veins, toes curling as he slows slightly to draw out your orgasm.

He groans when your nails anchor hard into his back but doesn’t stop, working you through it as warmth spills down his wrist. You’re vision begins to clear, the orgasmic haze lifting. Finally he stops keeping his fingers buried deep inside you but allows your fog to settle.

“I’m so happy I get to do this every day” his lips press to the corner of your mouth “make you fall apart on my fingers,” he places a soft kiss to your jaw slowly takes his finger out of your slick heat. “With my tongue,” he moves to suck on your earlobe and you whimper slightly.

He shifts his weight and his hard member pokes at your entrance. His voice is low and husky and he only pulls away briefly “or around my cock.” A loud gasp tumbles through your lips as he easily slides inside your walls, your juices providing an easy lubricant.

Slowly pulling back he brings his lips to your ears. “The best part though” he growls in your ear “I get to do it with my wife.” His hips snap hitting your cervix in conjunction with his words. Foreheads pressed together and lips ghosting over yours as he begins to rock into you.

A loud groan falls from your lips, they vibrate in your core and your nails scrape along his back, harshly digging into his skin. He adopts a slow and steady rhythm, hitting you deep with each thrust before dragging himself out to do it again. His head drops and he places a soft kiss against your lips. Along your jaw. On your neck. On your breasts.

His mouth is everywhere and you are turning into a mess under him.

Neither of you are in a hurry, relishing in the feeling. It’s not a new experience, you under him, leg wrapped around his waist as he loves you. But tonight it’s different.

Your first time married.

 First time with your husband.

 And because of that it hits different.

 Your hands snake around his neck, tilting his head to pull him closer. His mouth quickly finds yours while you roll your hips up to meet his. He groans at your movements continuing to drive into you a hand finding your breast. He begins to gently massage your orb, rolling the nipple through his fingers his tongue swiping inside your cheeks.

You whimper into his mouth and he buries his hips against yours in response. Each thrust is deep and calculated, as he slowly drags his cock back. He almost pulls out completely but drops back into you, his tip pressing against your cervix.

He has you right where he wants you, teetering on the edge. Your heel digs into his back and you feel his lips curl upwards against you “let go for me baby” he mumbles before bringing you back in for a heated and sloppy kiss.

Soon he pulls back slightly, lips hovering above yours. Grunts and moans fill the room as you both approach your highs.

“Gå videre baby slip. jeg har dig” he coos in your ear (go ahead baby, I got you). Almost if on cue your second orgasm crashes over you. Still reeling from your first it’s intense and your entire body erupts with tiny flames. Limbs are tingling, incoherent sounds spilling from your lips.

He continues to mumble into your ear but you can’t focus on anything. His deep voice fades into the background as you shudder under him. Upon feeling your walls flutter around him Fred begins to feel his release. Giving you a final few thrusts he spills coating your insides with everything he has.

He collapses on you, his head landing on your shoulder. Coming down from your high you can feel some warm cum spilling around his cock and down the inside of your thighs. But the two of you continue to lay there, your fingers gently playing with his hair.

Finally the two of you have partially recaptured your breaths and he pushes himself off of you. Sweat is dripping from his roots glistening on his forehead but instead of pulling away me mumbles into the crook of your neck peppering kisses along your collarbone.

“I love you so much” he smiles. “My wife.”

**

“That’s a lot of food for the two of us" you laugh as Fred wheels the tray of food to beside the bed. There are plates of bacon and hash browns, scrambled eggs, a gigantic tower of pancakes and a few bowls of fruit.

You take one of the cups of coffee bringing it your lips, the faint hazelnut smell filling the air around you. Before you can take a sip there is a knock on the door.

With a soft grin he presses his lips to your temple and walks away. You sit silently trying to guess who is at the door when suddenly you hear the light pitter patter of Oliver’s feet followed by one of the twins light squeal.

You set your cup down just in time for Oliver to jump on the bed and wrap his arms around your neck as he tells you about his sleepover with Amalie last night. You help Lucas onto the bed when Fred rounds the corner with Noah and Elise tight to his chest. He quickly drops Noah onto your legs.

“My babies" you laugh pulling all three boys in for kisses on their cheeks. Fred sets Elise in the middle of the bed and begins cutting some food for the kids.

“What are you doing here?” you ask tickling Oliver. He squeals with excitement unable to capture his breath.

“We’re having breakfast” Ollie laughs.

“Figured you’d want to see them for a few hours before I whisk you away on our honeymoon. Get in some last minute snuggles" Fred explains as you release your toddler so he can take his breakfast from his dad.

Noah curls into your lap and you rest your chin on his head, holding him tight against your chest. Before you can reply Lucas climbs in beside him and you wrap your other arm around him.

“This is perfect” you say as Noah begins to whine, Lucas invading his space. Elise begins to cry and Oliver is talking a mile a minute about all the fun he had last night.

“This is perfect" Fred jokes setting the plate of food for the twins down and grabbing Elise to try and soothe her. “I can barely hear myself think" he laughs kissing her forehead bouncing her in his arms “it’s chaos.”

“Yeah but it’s our chaos” you smile pressing a soft kiss on both of your twins foreheads.

***

“(Y/N)” you hear Fred softly call out to you. “Were almost there.”

His lips press against your cheek and your eyes slowly flutter open. Reaching out he grasps your hand and helps you sit while you reach out to stretch.

You have no idea how long you’ve been on the plane, having fallen asleep but you are happy to know you will soon be getting off and can properly stretch your legs. You tried to get Fred to tell you where you’re going about twenty times, but he refused any information, not even giving you hints.

“Where are we" you push the blanket off your body as the seat rises back up. Taking the blanket from you he reaches over to grab the sun shade from the window and pulls it up “take a look.”

Excitement washes over you and you eagerly turn your head to look out. You blink a few times unsure if it’s from the sunlight flooding in, or if it’s shock unsure you are actually seeing the skyline through the glass.

“You didn’t” you gasp.

“Mhm" he hums pressing his chest against your back. Warm lips hit your neck for a soft kiss before he pulls back lips ghosting over your ear “you always said you wanted to go here, seemed like the perfect time to do it.”

You manage to pry your eyes and turn your face slightly to meet him “I can’t believe you did this" you say softly. His lips gently brush against yours “I’d do anything for my wife.”

***

Authors Note:  This is the final chapter of this series, I hope you enjoyed it! Thank you so much for reading it, this story started as the first thing i ever wrote. And it slowly evolved into something. 

I wish I could commit to keeping it going but I have been struggling with the story the last few chapters (I always had the plan it was the getting pen to paper). So that is why I decided to end it, my original outline only had 31 chapters though so I’m glad I was able to expand on it.

[troubatrain]

sober - m. barzal (pt. six)

a/n: so after the hell week we all survived in the good ol’ USA my brain finally decided to let me actually write. tbh i wrote this about four times before i forced myself to just finish it and stop tweaking it.

Five

Mat’s kitchen looked like a tornado had run through it. The usually pristine, absolutely untouched kitchen of the young bachelor was getting more use in the twenty minutes Mat had been awake than it ever had. Truthfully, Mat wasn’t a morning person. Mat slept like a rock, and he thought there was nothing besides the fear of his coach that could get him up earlier than noon, but he was wrong. You had him up before eight, hoping if he could beat you to waking up you wouldn’t have a chance to sneak out on him. He did, opening his eyes to catch you snoring softly beside him. He laid there for a moment, his eyes on you because he almost in disbelief you actually stayed. It was a moment of peace, the complete opposite of the mess you’d both gotten yourselves into. For the first time in his life, he wasn’t debating how he was going to get someone to leave, he was figuring out how he was going to get you to stay.

Mat was an absolute whore, and he didn’t care one bit. Why should he? He was young, he was at the top of his game, and his ego got a little bigger everyday. He was just as guilty as you were when it came to his lack of commitment. Mat had never been able to be a good boyfriend, no matter how hard he tried - so he just stopped trying. His schedule wasn’t made for dating, and he never wanted to put the work in. You were different. Something clicked in Mat when he realized how enraged his body felt hearing DeAngelo talk about you the way he did. He was going to let it go, and in hindsight maybe he should have, but he didn’t want to. That protective feeling took over his body because it was too strong for him to shove back down before it got out.

Mat would have told you he loved you after that game, because he does, but he knew he was playing a dangerous game. The reality of what would happen if this was real scared him, but not nearly as much as he knew it had to scare you. You had something to lose, a life that Mat just wouldn’t be apart of. Mat wasn’t in a position to ask you to give that up, especially for someone who you weren’t even dating. Mat knew if he moved too quickly you’d get spooked and run away without giving Mat a second thought. He’d disappear from your memory like everyone before him.

Mat’s thoughts were broken by the sound of your feet padding into his kitchen, your arms wrapping around his waist while you pressed a kiss to his back, “Hi pretty girl.”

This was uncharted territory, the morning after. You’d always been an expert, leaving yourself enough time to sneak out and leave before anyone would notice you were gone. That kept your heart safe, free from the feelings that were present in this very moment. You couldn’t have left last night, slipping out of Mat’s bed and into a cab in the middle of the night, but something stopped you, “Do you actually know what you’re doing?”

“I thought I’d try to make you breakfast,” Mat admits, a smile on his face while he turned off the stove, eggs forgotten to look at you, “I’ll get better at it, I promise, breakfast can be my thing.”

“Your thing?” You muse, letting Mat gently push you onto the island, standing between your legs.

“Yeah, when we fall in love or whatever, I’ll make breakfast,” Mat chuckles, pressing a quick kiss to your lips.

“You’ve lost your damn mind Barz,” You sigh, leaning your head on Mat’s shoulder while you savored the last few moments of peace you were feeling. You were going to have leave his place, off to a four game road trip where Mat was free to fuck whoever he wanted.

Mat’s finger was gently gliding over your face, “If I’m crazy it’s because you made me crazy.”

“You were insane before I met you,” You defend not daring to open your eyes and meet Mat’s gaze, “And now you’re just annoying.”

“I don’t remember being annoying when you were begging me to fuck you last night,” Mat counters back, hands moving to your bare thighs, the warmth from his hands was a stark contrast from the cool counter, “If I’m correct it sounded something like Mat please.”

“Don’t push your luck Mat,” You threaten, his impersonation of you from the night before stopping almost immediately.

“Would I push it if I asked you to stay until my flight later?” Mat asks, eyes full of hope while he tries to hang onto the moment just a little bit longer.

“If you never talk about it again,” You nod, deciding that the damage was already done. You were so far gone a few more hours couldn’t hurt you anymore.

“We can talk about how fucking good you look in orange and blue though,” Mat teases, a grin on his face. You furrow your eyebrows, looking down and realizing just what shirt he had given you the night before. A bright white number thirteen in the corner, with an Islanders logo present on the front.

“Mat if you don’t take this off of me right this second.”

“You never have to ask me twice to take off your shirt babe.”

***

You leaned your head against the window of the private jet that definitely cost more for one flight than your entire salary, taking a deep breath and a break from the laundry list of emails you were due to answer. You were flying to St. Louis for the All Star Game, your plans of a week long vacation somewhere warm with some of the team and their significant others thrown out the door the second Chris stepped in for Panarin last minute. Not even two minutes later, Charlotte strutted over to your desk to tell you that without a need for someone to translate for Artemi, you were the new kid and that meant you had to suffer through the weekend while everyone else took their vacations. 

“At least pretend to be excited,” Chris mutters next to you, taking a break from his own reading and elbowing you in the side.

“It’s hard to be excited when everyone’s on a beach and we’re flying to Missouri in January,” You snark back, pulling your glasses off your face and rubbing your eyes.

“You either need to start sleeping or stop hanging out with that secret boyfriend of yours,” Chris jokes, but it struck a nerve with you.

Mat wasn’t your boyfriend. Mat. Wasn’t. Your. Boyfriend. He didn’t get to have all of you, because he didn’t deserve it - no man does. Nothing about the very small amount of vulnerability that he got to see after that game meant anything. You left that morning and he went on a four game road trip and the world spun on. You could stop whenever you wanted to, move on with some other dumb boy who didn’t care more about you in clothes than without. But did you want to? That was a debate you’d been having with yourself for days.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” You grumble, gritting through your teeth. Technically, it wasn’t a total lie.

“So you are seeing someone!” Chris points out, as if your deliberate words were going to make it past him. Chris held most of the intelligence on the entire Rangers roster, and there was nothing that he didn’t pick up, “So, What's the deal? He doesn’t want anyone to know about you or you don’t want anyone to know about him.”

“It’s mutual,” You hum, sipping the coffee that had gone cold.

“Are you a sugar baby?” Chris questions, a cautious tone to his voice, “Not that I think there’s anything wrong with it or anything-”

“No I haven’t found a sugar daddy,” You roll your eyes, waiving Chris and sparing him the lecture that there’s nothing wrong with the idea at all, “We’re just in a limbo.”

“For what it’s worth,” Chris says, taking a deep breath before he finished his thought, “You seem happy, you haven’t snapped on Tony in almost a week.”

“Thanks Chris,” You laugh softly, popping a headphone back into your ear so you could finish up some work.

***

Mat was in absolute disbelief the moment he saw you step into the hotel lobby. You weren’t supposed to be in St. Louis, you were supposed to be on some island in a bikini making him wish he wasn’t good enough to be selected for the All Star game at all. Mat scratched his head for an answer as to why you didn’t mention the change of plans, but then the thing that he spent his entire roadie before he left for St. Louis entered his brain at full speed.

You’re not her boyfriend.

Mat owed you nothing, and you didn’t have to tell him anything you didn’t want to. Mat honestly knew about four things about you and all of them related to your job. He was dying to know everything, even the stuff that didn’t matter that much. Hell, Mat would’ve killed to see the inside of your apartment at this point. He just needed one thing, one thing that he could hold onto that you showed him that no one else got to see. He was sure he’d find it, especially after he finally got you to stay at his place, but now he was starting to think maybe he’d never crack you.

You were going to just avoid Mat like the plague. The hotel was swamped with players, their families, and any staff that had tagged along for the weekend. The city was still buzzing from last season’s Stanley Cup win and there was not a chance Mat wasn’t going to be busy all weekend, because Mat Barzal was an amazing hockey player. You hated to be reminded of it, because if you could have Mat feed you stupid compliments and never remind you of his job you’d be happy forever.

hotel sex is on the table

and you look fucking hot today

You roll your eyes, checking your phone while you were standing in line to check in. You look around the room, trying not to draw any attention to Mat who was giving you a shit eating grin from across the lobby. He looked good, a white button up tucked into suit pants that were doing his ass justice. You look at Chris, who was too engrossed in his own phone to even look back at you.

pretend like i don’t exist right now and we’ll talk

wanna play a game?

that didn’t go well for you last time Barzy

if i beat your buddy kreids tomorrow night you give me one night

you won’t

is that a yes?

fine

You turn around, giving Mat one last death stare to remind him you weren’t kidding on your plea to pretend you didn’t exist. Your job was important to you because you weren’t Mat. You weren’t going to get paid millions of dollars to play and then retire with a pretty penny in your pocket. You worked, and the stress of losing your job would definitely break you. Charlotte instilled fear in you like no other boss you ever had could, and if you got caught messing around with someone who played for another team while you were working she’d probably just fire you on the spot. Not to mention the heartbroken faces of your chosen family. Mat somehow existed in both a different and the same world as you. He understood your work life because it was so close to his, but he had his own work family and you had yours. No matter what, there would always be some sort of weird divide caused by that stupid rivalry. For now, it was just going to have to be something you’d worry about later.

***

You turned in the mirror of your hotel room, the lacy black lingerie set fit your body like a glove, and you were impressed with Mat’s taste given all he ever wore was sweatpants. You look in the corner of the room, the last piece of his little gift sitting in the box. Mat dropped it off earlier, a note on top telling you that when he inevitably smokes Chris in the faster skater competition he had something in mind. You weren’t surprised by his confidence, but you were surprised by the gift itself. Folded neatly in the box wasn’t just the lingerie, a bright blue and orange jersey was right underneath it, a shiny white number thirteen stitched into the back. You knew you didn’t have to wear it, because Mat wasn’t going to force you to do anything, but you were wet at just the thought of how animalistic Mat would probably get. You tossed on the jersey, throwing an even bigger sweatshirt and sweats over it before you snuck up to Mat’s floor- hoping Chris wouldn’t catch you leaving from the room across the hall.

You pull out the room key Mat gave you, sneaking into the door and locking it shut behind you. You slipped off your sweats, leaving you in nothing but the jersey and your panties.

“Fuck,” Mat dropped his phone from his hand the second you came into his view, “I didn’t think you’d wear it.”

“I wasn’t going to,” You muse, your confidence boosting while you strutted over to Mat. He had that effect on you, the ability to always make you feel like the sexiest woman in the world - even if you didn’t feel like were, “But then you beat McDavid.”

Mat pulled you between his legs while he sat on the edge of the bed, his hands toying with the jersey while he let the fabric slip through his fingers, “You look so fucking good in my jersey baby.”

“I’m proud of you Mat,” You purr into his ear, playing into Mat’s ego just a little bit. You were proud of him, and for the first time you wanted him to know. You pressed a kiss against his jaw, feeling his own breath hitch in his throat, “Can I show you?”

“Keep that jersey on and you can do whatever you want to me,” Mat admits, slipping his hand under the jersey and tapping your ass lightly.

“I’ll keep it on,” You giggle, pushing Mat on his back and getting to work. Your lips kissed down his chest with every button of his dress shirt you got undone, tossing it in the corner to be forgotten about until later. You unhooked his belt, leaving open mouth kisses just above his pants. You slid off his dress pants slowly, taking his boxers with them to let his cock spring free. Mat groaned at the sight, gathering your hair to pull it back for you.

“Wait,” Mat stops you, holding your hair back to stop you from putting your mouth on him. His finger traced your cheek, a look on his face you couldn’t quite read, “I just want to remember this, you look so beautiful right now.”

You could feel the heat rush your cheeks, Mat had called you to dozens of things but never once did the word beautiful ever slip through his lips, “You’re just saying that because I’m about to blow you.”

“No, baby, I mean it- fuck,” Mat groans, this thoughts halted by your mouth on his cock. His hips snapped up, hitting the back of your throat, “You’re so fucking good princess.”

You moan, hollowing your cheeks and gripping Mat’s thighs a little tighter, giving him the show you so desperately wanted. You head bobbed in a perfect rhythm, taking as much of Mat as your body could handle. Mat pushes your head back, taking a look at the line of spit that was still connected to his dick, your eyes were glassy and your throat was sore but Mat would keep you like that forever if he could, “Let me finish.”

“I’m in charge tonight,” Mat reminds you, the tone in his voice sent a chill up your spine. You knew Mat was rough, and a little demanding but he never crossed that line with you, “On your knees.”

“Like this?” You tease, sitting up on your knees to rile him up just a little bit more.

“More like this princess,” Mat stands behind you, gently pushing you down so your ass was in the air. He was quiet, bunching up his jersey so he could get a full view of the lingerie he went out and bought just for you, “Be good or I won’t let you cum pretty girl.”

Mat’s threat with a light smack to your ass, a moan escaping your lips. He slipped the black lace panties to the side, gliding one of his fingers against your folds while he pressed a kiss to your skin, “So wet for me already.”

“Only for you Mat,” The words tumbled out of your mouth, your eyes widening at your own confession.

Mat was thankful he was behind you, because if you saw the way his gaze changed from your words he’d never live it down. You looked so perfect, spread just for him. His jersey. His number. And in his own fantasy: his girl. He snapped himself back into reality, sliding into your pussy that was practically dripping in anticipation.

“Faster, fuck Mat please,” You whimpered out, trying to move yourself to get Mat to pick up the pace. He chuckled darkly, hips snapping back and forth until the only sound in the room was the string of curses leaving your mouth, “I’m close-”

Mat flipped you over before you could finish, his hand grabbing your chin and forcing you to look at him, “Tell me this pussy is mine.”

“Fuck I’m yours Mat,” You breath out, locking your eyes with his while it felt like time froze around you, “I’m yours.”

“Look at me when you cum baby,” Mat urges, his hand still gripping your chin. He picked up his place, making use of his other hand around your clit, “C’mon princess just for me.”

Your pussy fluttered around him, Mat letting out a groan while he tried to hold onto this moment for just a bit longer. He looked down at you, catching your breath from your own high. You hand snuck down to his cock, pumping it slowly, “Cum on me.”

Mat nods, letting you work on his dick with your hands while he nibbled at your neck. He was going to mark you up, make you remember who you belonged to because he so desperately wanted it to be him. He spilled onto your pussy, head pressed into your neck while he came down from his own high. You both laid there for a moment, your hand gently stroking Mat’s back while you both took a moment to think about what just happened. Mat was possessive in a way he’d never been before, and you ate it up without a second thought - that had to mean something right?

“I need to get back to my room,” you whisper, afraid to break the comfortable silence.

“I know,” Mat nods, finally picking his head up, “Keep the jersey, you might need it one day.”

“Your stupidity is honestly astounding,” You joke, brushing his hair out of his face while Mat’s face turned into a pout.

“Can I take you on a date?” Mat breathes out, hoping he wasn’t reading this the wrong way, “No games, no funny business, let me take you out.”

Say no. Say no and never call him again.

“One date,” You agree against your better judgement, pushing Mat away and looking around the room to find your sweats that you snuck into his room in, “Better make it a good one.”

Mat smiles, teeth on full display while he watched you slide your pants back on, “I’m the best at everything Y/N don’t forget that.”

“Goodnight Barz,” You tease, giving him one more look before you left his room.

The elevator ride down was quiet, most of the hotel’s occupants already asleep or still out partying the weekend away. For your sake, you hoped Chris would be fast asleep like the grandpa he was. You rushed down the hallway, Mat’s jersey still hanging loosely off your frame while you looked in your hand for your room key. Your search was stopped by a throat clearing behind you. You jump, turning around to see Chris’s eyes boring into you.

“You’ve got some explaining to do.”

[arcane-apathy]

Part 1 

Next

AN: Part 1 of 3 for this Male Naga X Female Reader. I’m hoping to get better at writing short stories, but it’ll take some practice. I hope y’all enjoy! 

Warning(s): N/A

 You didn’t know why you decided to leave home but your mind was already made up and the U-Haul was already packed. There was no going back now. You didn’t want to be a big city nurse anymore, and you also didn’t want to move back to your hometown. So, this year you decided to move to New Mexico, specifically Peralta. A town of a little over three thousand people. The eastern half of town right on the border of the Isleta Pueblo Reservation, and the Rio Grande River to the west. You could even see the Manzano Mountain Range in the distance. 

  The drive to Peralta was taxing, but unbelievably beautiful. No wonder why New Mexico is called The Land of Enchantment. You made it to your new home in the middle of the day, and the sun was high above you. Of course you decided to move in the middle of summer, the dry heat smacking you in the face as you got out of the rental truck. You shielded your eyes from the sun as you stared at your new home. 

  The property was near the end of a dirt road, about a city block away from the local cemetery. But you didn’t mind, in fact it made the house even cheaper.  You’d just have to remember to cleanse the house whenever you got a chance. The house was a simple one-story pueblo style house, the faux-adobe outside was an ivory color, and the windows were painted pear green. It lacked the wooden vigas, making it obvious that it wasn’t an actual pueblo home. The house was small, the yard was huge, it had a detached stainless-steel garage, and a dirt driveway. All surrounded by a chain link fence with a gate. 

  It didn’t take you long to unload the U-Haul, considering you sold most of your things before you moved. You lay your mattress on the bedroom floor and the majority of boxes stay in your living room. You look at the time on your phone, there was still two hours until the U-Haul’s scheduled return time. Un-packing wasn’t the first item on the agenda, some serious cleaning needed to be done before you thought about anything else. 

  Granted the house wasn’t in horrible shape, but it was obvious that it’s been a few months since anyone has lived in it. The air was stuffy, there was dust on everything, and there was dirt all over the floors. You search for your bag of cleaning supplies that you bought at a Wal-Mart in Albuquerque, well prepared to clean. With the house being so small, it didn’t take you long to clean, so you took your time admiring your new home. The house was made in the seventies, the Spanish-style linoleum tiles in the kitchen being the proof. Yet it didn’t look like it came out of a home magazine that your grandmother would've read. There were some obvious updates throughout the years. Thankfully central air was one of them. 

  You returned the U-Haul and the towing dolly on time, driving your car back home. You stopped at a Domino’s on the way home, not yet ready to try the local food. Unpacking was the only thing on your mind. And no surprise to you, it took all night. Packing wasn’t easy, because you had to take things from their place and sort them into boxes. Unpacking was another challenge, the amount of times you switched which cabinet your plates went in was frustrating. By two in the morning you had everything put away, there were sheets on your bed, and your eyelids were heavy.

                                                      ~~***~~

  It’s been a month since you’ve moved, and you’ve loved it more that you’d ever thought. Living in your one bedroom house was a dream compared to any other apartment you’ve had before. You’ve gotten over the linoleum in the kitchen, and you couldn’t even imagine the house without it. The yard was easy to maintain, considering it was primarily dirt. You didn’t see much of your neighbors but they were nice from what you could tell. And the quiet was refreshing. 

  You spent most of your days at work, a health center in the middle of the Isleta Pueblo Reservation. The work was tough, and didn’t pay much, but it was obvious that they needed you there. According to your co-workers everyone wanted to work in the big cities and that smaller health centers, especially ones for the native populations, were constantly understaffed. You became a licensed practical nurse because you wanted to help people, and working in an at risk community fulfilled that goal. 

  To say you were surprised when your co-worker invited you to her birthday party in Albuquerque was an understatement. Although you didn’t know her that well, you still went. You needed socialization outside of the workplace and the occasional video calls with your family back home. So, you put on your best outfit and did your best to look presentable. The night started off at a restaurant, the food was amazing, and the company was actually enjoyable. After dinner you all went to a bar, so far it was a typical birthday party for a bunch of girls in their twenties. 

  You stood against the wall, nursing a drink as everyone else in your group dance. Normally you weren’t such a party pooper, but these girls weren’t much of your crown. It was too early in the night to go home, and they all knew that you didn’t work tomorrow so you couldn’t use that excuse. Hence why you resorted to people watching. The bar was packed with humans and non-humans alike, all dancing with each other. There were already a few couples sharing face in the darker corners. 

  “You look bored,” a blunt voice shook you from your daze. You look to the side, noticing as a tall man slithered up to you. Not metaphorically. Your eyes instantly gravitated to his tail, the bulk of muscle trailing closely behind him as he moved. You couldn’t help but be mesmerized by the pattern of his scales. The base was beige and was decorated in an assortment of splotches all in varying shades of brown, and at the very end of it all was a black rattle. He laughs at your reaction, “have you never seen a Naga before?” 

  “Not up close, there weren’t that many back home,” you flush a little as you are caught staring. Which wasn’t a lie, you didn’t see many growing up, nor did you encounter a lot at work either. A surprising statistic you’ve learned since you moved is that New Mexico has the highest population of Naga in the United States, with Texas as a close second. You have seen a few as you wandered around Peralta and the neighboring towns, but you have yet to talk to them. 

  “Oh, you’re from out of town. How exciting,” he smiles and extends a hand, “Santiago Rosales.” You shake his hand and introduce yourself. His smile grows and the rainbow lights from the dance floor reflect off his fangs. You couldn’t deny that he was an attractive man, tan skin, curly raven hair, a triangular face with a strong jawline, and golden serpentine eyes. You look back at the dance floor and notice one of your co-workers giving you a thumbs up. “So, not to sound cheesy… But why is a pretty chica like you, not out there?” 

  You flush a little at his definitely cheesy comment, “I’ve already done my socializing for the evening, but if I leave now I’ll never hear the end of it at work. What about you, why aren’t you out there?”

  He motions to his tail, “I’m in no mood to get stomped on.” 

  “Oh… I didn’t even think of that. Does it happen often?” 

  “It happened a lot when I was a kid, but I was kinda a wimpy kid too,”

  You raise a brow as you look at how snugly his button up fits to his arms and chest, “wimpy?” 

  “Hey I wasn’t always like this, I was a string bean growing up. It took years for this to happen,” he motions to himself proudly. You laugh and finish your drink, Santiago looks at the empty glass, “may I offer to buy you another drink?” 

  You contemplate it for a second then shake your head, “no thank you, I have to drive home tonight. And I don’t live in Albuquerque.” 

  “Is it too weird to ask where you live then?” 

  “Peralta,” you shrug.

  “Really? My mom lives in Peralta… Maybe I’ll see you around?” 

                                                       ~~***~~ 

  And you did, the first time you saw Santiago was at the grocery store. You were trying to figure out what brand of refried beans to buy when he came down the aisle, slithering alongside an older Naga woman. He didn’t acknowledge you, which made you question whether he recognized you at all. The second time you saw him was at the post office, and he immediately smiled when he saw you. Your heart couldn’t help to flutter at the sight of him. The third time was at the bank, both of you waiting in line at the tellers. 

  The fourth time was when everything changed. You were standing in the bathroom aisle at Target in Albuquerque, looking through the wide array of shower curtain options. You heard your name being called and you looked up, expecting to see someone from work, possibly even a regular patient. But, instead your eyes were graced with the sight of a familiar Naga in a taut shirt and a leather jacket, “oh, hi Santiago.” 

  “Hola, looking for a shower curtain I see,” he smiles as he sidles up beside you.  

  You fluster a little, realizing you were still wearing your baggy maroon scrubs. “Indeed I am, it’s been two months and my house still looks like no one lives in there.” 

  He looks you up and down, his eyes stopping at the embroidered patch above your breast, “you work at Isleta Health Center?” 

  Your brows knit in confusion and you look down at the patch, resisting the urge to face palm, “yes, yes I do. Sorry, I just got off my shift and I kinda forgot I was still wearing this monstrosity.” 

  “You don’t look bad at all if I’m being honest…” 

  Damn he was slick, “it’s not the worst, but I hate how plain it is. I sold all my fun scrubs when I moved, so I’m stuck with the standard issues until I buy more.” He nods and looks at the shower curtains in your hands curiously. “So, what are you here for?” 

  "Uhh… Honestly I don't even know anymore. They didn't have what I needed, so I just started to aimlessly slither around the store. And then I found you." 

  "Aimlessly wandering around Target can be dangerous," you chuckle. 

  "I haven't learned my lesson apparently," he gives you a lopsided smile, "last time it happened I came home with a pillow that had some motivational quote.” 

  “Yikes,” you laugh and put one of the curtains back onto it’s metal hook.  

  “Yikes indeed,” he crosses his arms over his chest as he looks at the options before him. “So, do you have any style in mind.” 

  “Santiago, you don’t need to help me.” 

  “I fear if I don’t help you, you’ll be stuck in the store until it closes,” he teases with a wink. 

  You feel the heat rising to your cheeks, “alright fine. My house is pueblo style, built in the seventies. The bathroom was recently remodeled before they sold it, so the walls are plain, it has normal wood, and laminate tiles that look like travertine. It’s very boring.” 

  “So you need something to spice it up?”

  “Exactly,” you pick up a geometric patterned one, looking at the picture on the cardboard. 

  Santiago shakes his head, "nope", he takes it out of your hand and puts it back. You look at him dumbfounded by how brash he was. He puts another one in your hands, “this one looks like you.” 

  You look down at the curtains, it was a simple floral. But with the way the bright flowers were stylized like they were from an Alfredo Ramos Martinez painting. “This is cute.” 

  “You look like a floral person.” 

  “How does one look like a floral person, without being an actual nymph?” He shrugs and you simply roll your eyes, “you’re lucky I tolerate you.” 

  He winces, “just tolerate?” 

  “Well, I don’t know you that well…” 

  “Then let's get to know each other,” his posture straightens. “Why don’t we go out for a coffee someday, as a date?” You must’ve stared at him like he grew another head because he immediately fell back on his statement, “or not a date?” 

  “No… A date is fine.” 

  “Is it?” 

  “Definitely.” 

  “Then why are you still looking at me like that?” 

  Your face instantly turns a scarlet color, “I… It's been awhile since I’ve been on a date. So, the fact that you are asking me on a date, in a Target, is mind boggling.” 

  “Do you want me to ask you outside the Target?” 

  “That’s not the point,” you sigh, trying to steady your breathing. “So, a date?” 

  Santiago smirks, “give me your phone.” You scowl and he shrinks at your stern gaze, “por favor?” Reluctantly you unlock and hand him your phone, watching as he makes himself a contact. “Text me when you get home, I should have a fantastic plan by then.” 

  “No coffee?” 

  “Nope, you deserve more than a coffee.” You flush again as he smiles victoriously, “I’ll let you get back to shopping so you can get home at a decent hour. Talk to you soon, cariño.” You watch as he slithers out of the aisle with a wave over his shoulder. You can’t help but stare, looking at the end of the aisle then back at the curtains in your hand. For some reason, the bright flowers just felt right. So, you put the package into your basket and head off to find the next item on your list. And you couldn’t wait until you got home. 

[hushedhands]

Challenge 83

@cecilia02 @everbeenminee Astra watching Andrew's coronation.

Astra Orders set an alarm for three o’clock in the morning, but she didn't need it. She didn't sleep at all.

Her mom had invited her to watch the once-in-a-generation event with her little cousins in Illéa Palace, but Astra had refused. Kile had offered to stay the night and keep her company, but that hadn't felt right either. Her dad had suggested not watching at all, which was cute but not really a solution. It would be weeks before footage of this faded from the news, and even then there would be anniversary specials forever. Astra might as well bite the bullet and watch the coronation that had almost been hers.

She wished her parents and her boyfriend weren’t making such a fuss about this. History was full of women who'd almost married princes and then gone home to watch them become kings. Her Uncle Maxon had left dozens of such women in his wake when he’d chosen to marry Aunt Ames, though Astra didn't have the telephone numbers of any of them. She wished Andrew had enough ex-girlfriends to make a proper club like the former Selected. It might have been nice to have someone who could understand this indescribable feeling without the need for words to name it.

It wasn't that she wanted to be married to Andy. She had no doubt at all that she'd made the right decision in calling off their relationship, and that was totally separate from the fact that she was now wildly in love with Kile.

But there was something aching in her chest as she watched the aerial shots of the city of London on the little television in her apartment in Angeles, curled up in her warmest fuzzy pajamas, hair in a messy version of her ballet bun, hands clinging to her mug of tea for dear life. Today was the day that standing by Andrew's side for his coronation went from something she wouldn’t do to something she couldn't do. She'd chosen to walk away, but this was the day that the door locked behind her.

Never was a hard word to give to Andrew, even if Kile had her Always.

The camera above the crowd panned past the palace Astra had stayed in that summer, and her chest squeezed hard. Whatever else had happened there, it had been a refuge for her at a time in her life when she’d needed it most.

It all started when she had been offered an incredible opportunity to dance for the Waverly ballet company in the summer, and an opportunity to attend an elite seminar with London’s royal ballet company in the spring, and Kile, realizing that he and Astra wouldn’t see each other for over six months, had broken up with her very suddenly.

Well, technically it had been a mutual decision. She hadn’t seen him much during his first year at school, and now she was off on her own adventures, and it seemed like a terrible time to try to make a relationship work. What if he met someone amazing at university? What if she met someone in Waverly or London? Was it fair to deny themselves new relationships and experiences just because they’d always been together? Weren’t they technically together by default, anyway?

It was a reasonable question. If you married someone you’d had playdates with for as long as you could remember, and you never even tried to date someone else, it was probably a relationship by default… right?

As she got on the plane for London, it had hit her hard that she wouldn’t have a hope of seeing Kile again, maybe for an entire year. The earliest she’d be back in Angeles was the next fall, and that’s exactly when he’d be leaving to go back to school again. And this time they wouldn’t talk to each other on the telephone almost every single day, and she wouldn’t slip secret notes in the care packages his parents sent him from home, and he wouldn’t surprise her by sitting in the audience during a matinee performance after sneaking back into town without telling her...

And maybe he never would again.

It was possible she’d cried the whole flight overseas, it was hard to remember. She must have rehydrated somehow, or she’d have shriveled up and died of the heartbreak. That time was all a blur now.

But what Astra remembered clearly, sitting on her sofa four years later, was the way she’d felt walking into that little old palace on the north side of the city and realizing that it was essentially hers for the season. It really paid to have a paranoid king for an uncle sometimes, because Maxon had pulled a dozen favors with the English royal family to get Astra somewhere safe and comfortable to live for a few months. She was technically an Illéan princess by title, so he wouldn’t hear of letting her rent a crumby apartment somewhere in the city, and besides, wherever she stayed needed to have enough room for a security detail. Still, even for a small palace, it was a palace and it was hers.

The old place had plenty of full-time staff that kept it in good shape as an estate of historical significance to the English monarchy, but Astra herself didn’t have maids or butlers, or a chef to keep her fed. At night, everyone who worked to keep the palace maintained went home, so it was only her and the security detail.

But she was allowed to order takeout from restaurants around town, so on her very first night alone she ordered enough food to live off of for a while, until she could get to a grocery store. She sprawled on a sofa in the downstairs sitting room, doodling in the notebook her Aunt May had given her for her last birthday, until there was a surprise knock on the archway in the entrance of the sitting room.

“Hello.” Andrew stood there, still in his business suit from the day, though with no tie, and with the top button undone. He looked ruffled, and in his hands he carried a large bottle of red wine. “Sorry to barge in… there isn’t exactly a doorbell in this place, and without staff to handle arrivals and departures… well, I did knock.” he awkwardly concluded.

Astra, still in her tank top and stretchy pants from the plane, would have felt severely underdressed to received a prince at a palace, except this was one of her oldest and best friends, and some of the ache in her heart from leaving Kile on the other side of the world eased away just from looking at him. She hugged him, “You don’t need to knock. It’s good to see you.”

“And you.” he hugged her back. “Ah, and here. A housewarming gift.” he offered her the wine.

“You’re just in time for dinner.”

“Am I?”

“It should be here soon. The finest spicy noodles and sautéed vegetables in the land. Although, if there’s no doorbell…”

“The guard at the gate will take it from the delivery driver and have someone bring it in.” he grinned.

“Then what are we waiting for? Let’s go hunt down something to open that bottle.” she said.

A new city, a change of scenery, some delicious New Asian food, a bottle of old wine, a dear old friend… this was the recipe to get over a breakup. Astra knew it, because she already felt worlds better, just struggling to find a way into the wine bottle. There wasn’t a corkscrew in the kitchens that they could find, and this palace didn’t have its own wine cellar, which was the only other place they could think to find wine accessories. In the end, Andrew took an impressive, ancient sword off of a display rack on a wall at the top of the grand staircase and carefully poked the sharp end down until it was lodged into the cork.

Astra laughed so hard her sides hurt as she twisted the bottle out in front of her and Andrew slowly stepped backward. After a couple of tries, the cork loosened up enough that he could use brute force to pull the rest of it out.

When the food arrived, they carried it up to the top floor, to a balcony that overlooked the city, and they had a picnic of sorts.

“Where’s Lucas? You two are usually a package set.” Astra asked between bites of spicy noodles.

“Still finishing up his first year at university.”

“Oh, of course! Kile— “ She stopped abruptly, her chest squeezed tightly, her tongue fell heavy in her mouth, and she drowned the bitter taste of his name on her lips with expensive wine.

“Oh dear. That won’t do.” Andrew leant over and brushed away an errant tear from her cheek. “You mean to tell me… well, he’s safe isn’t he? He’s not unwell?”

“No, no he’s fine. He’s at school… and I’m here.”

Andrew studied her face carefully. He’d met Kile and Astra on the same day, at the same moment, so they’d been friends for exactly the same amount of time. He knew that they’d been together romantically for almost seven years now, the teenage equivalent of a sixty-year marriage. “So you’re… taking time apart?”

“We’ve decided to go our separate ways.” Astra said, the words soft and wispy in her throat. “We’re not… we’re not headed in the same direction anymore. We might never head in the same direction again. After university, he wants to see the world. And I… I might travel around for a while as a dancer, but I can’t imagine not being there for Addy once she becomes Queen… Even if that wasn’t true, we won’t have a good chance to be in the same city for at least a year… and a lot can happen in a year.”

Andrew took a large sip from his glass and then refilled hers.

“That’s really difficult, Astra… I’m so sorry. I know how much you love each other. It must be hell, knowing that you’re growing apart from the person you’re closest to in the world.”

Astra choked a sob in her wineglass and Andrew’s eyes widened, “God, I’m sorry! What a terrible thing to say—“ he sat both of their glasses safely aside and wrapped her in a warm hug.

Astra got his suit all wet from her tears, but she felt comfortable in his arms. “I’m not crying because of you, stupid.” She explained when she had the breath to do so. “It’s definitely because of him. I just… I didn’t think anyone would understand. But you do.”

“I don’t.” Andy rushed to correct her. “Not really. I’ve never experienced anything like that. The closest I can imagine is if… if I lost touch with someone in the Palace kid gang. You’re my best friends, apart from Luke, and I’ve known you forever. If I had to say goodbye to one of you, to lose you forever… it’s not even close to what you’re feeling, but just the thought hurts enough for me to know that you’re going through hell.”

Astra sniffled and collected her wineglass again, ready for more sips, content to allow herself to be comforted by her friend. “Hell has better wine than I expected, I’ll give it that much.”

“Not a bad view, either.” Andrew agreed with a small chuckle, looking out at the city.

“Didn’t expect one of my very best friends to come with me to hell.” Astra timidly admitted.

“And I’m not leaving until I get you out of it.” he’d promised.

Andrew always did have words as sweet as honey.

They drank the whole bottle that night, between the two of them. They had as good an excuse as two teenagers needed: they couldn’t find a wine stopper. Andrew offered to stay the night with her so that she wouldn’t be alone, but now that the world was blurry and warm from the wine, Astra felt delightfully sleepy. She was going to get her first good night’s sleep since losing Kile. So Andrew left, promising to bring breakfast the next morning to check on her.

He checked on her a lot.

He brought her breakfast and dinner every day, and he’d probably have brought her lunch too, except that she was always at her dance seminar during the daytime. Astra ended every night with her body pleasantly tired from dancing, a new half a bottle of wine in her stomach, and her mind full of whatever nice, easy conversation she’d had with Andrew just before bed. Her first week in England flew by.

That Friday night, Andrew appeared in the doorway to the sitting room right on schedule, two bottles of wine in hand.

“You’re mad.” Astra giggled.

“It’s the weekend.” he argued. “You don’t have to dance tomorrow, and I don’t have any public appearances to make until next Tuesday.”

“You’re off work until Tuesday? You English royals really know how to take it easy.” she laughed. She didn’t think her cousins had taken a three day weekend in their lives.

“We’ll keep the second bottle on standby, just in case we decide we want to try it.”

But of course, they were young and it was a Friday night, they definitely wanted to try it. Somewhere after the first glass of the second bottle, refilling glasses got too risky and they started drinking straight from the bottle, passing it back and forth. There was a television show on, showing a concert happening on the other side of the city in a stadium Astra could just see if she stood tall enough on the balcony.

Andrew watched her going almost en pointe to try to spy the stadium, mesmerized by her strength and balance and grace. “Can we dance?”

Astra smiled brightly. Dancing was her favorite in the world, of course they could dance! They danced in their socks to the music on the television until Andrew collapsed, out of breath, on the sofa. Astra joined him, blood pumping pleasantly fast through her veins.

“I’m out of shape!” he bemoaned.

“I’m a professional athlete, don’t compare yourself to me. You did just fine.”

“I did? Do you think I could join the ballet?” He laughed giddily.

She’d never seen him giddy like this.

Andy carried the weight of his country on his shoulders, he always had. Addy hadn’t really started bearing Illéa on her back until she was eleven or twelve, old enough to understand what was coming for her, but Andrew had always been a future king, even when he was tiny. Seeing him now, not a care in the world, laughing about joining the ballet… Astra’s heart twisted in her chest and for the first time since breaking up with Kile, it had absolutely nothing to do with him.

He had no part of this.

Astra leant forward and kissed Andrew on the warm, red cheek.

He looked at her, stunned, smile falling off his face. “What was that for?”

“I don’t know… just because. Just for you.”

“Just for me…” he’d mused.

“For being good to me. For taking care of me while I’m here. For… for being you. Yeah… just for you.” Astra nodded, this time more certain that the words made sense outside of her wine-fogged mind.

“I should be me more often.” he chuckled.

Astra blinked.

Should he?

***

There was a version of Astra’s stay in London where she pined away for her ex-boyfriend every moment she got, and maybe poured that pain into her dancing because it was overflowing from her heart and needed somewhere to go. That’s what she’d been expecting deep down. But what really happened was, she found a favorite market to buy groceries from, she found a bakery between her palace and the dance studio that kept her in much-needed carbs, she found a park with a pond where lots of locals liked to walk their dogs, which meant she got to pet a lot of dogs, and she started falling in love with the city.

And then there was Andrew.

He knew her so well, and they’d loved each other as friends for so long, and spending those mornings and nights with him felt so easy, so smooth.

And he was handsome and kind and… ugh, handsome. Astra didn’t regret kissing him on the cheek. Not even when he stood with her on the balcony a week later, watching the sunset, and she laced her hand with his.

“Are you quite alright?” he’d asked, not because she’d grabbed his hand, but just because he was still so worried about her.

“When I got here, I thought the answer to that question would be no forever.” Astra confessed. “And listen… I don’t really know who I am without Kile, he’s been a part of me for my whole life… but these past two weeks I’ve started to find out… and I like it. I like getting to know me.”

Andrew smiled down at her and squeezed her hand.

“And I like you too, Andrew.”

His smile became pained, “Astra—“

“It’s okay. You’re the next king and blah blah blah.” he laughed, because there were so few people in the world who could blah blah blah being an heir to a throne, but Astra was certainly one of them.

“It isn’t that.” he corrected her with a shake of his head. “It’s… you’re getting out of a serious relationship. You can’t like anyone yet—“

“Yes I can.” Astra scoffed, a challenging glint in her eyes, “Watch me.”

“But we’ve been friends our whole lives, too. Wouldn’t you like to like someone different? A stranger, maybe?”

“Where would I find one of those?” Astra lamented, only half-joking. Having a king for an uncle really limited one’s opportunities to meet strangers.

Andrew peered at her closely, then seemingly made up his mind all at once, saying, “Put on a dress.”

“What?”

“Put on a dress, I’ve got a surprise for you!”

Just like that, Andrew was downstairs talking to his security team and Astra was upstairs trying to figure out what dress to wear. There was a sweet springtime yellow thing… and then there was the red thing.

Astra made up her mind quickly. She chose the red thing. She chose everything that the red thing implied.

She appeared at the bottom of the stairs and Andrew’s eyes widened.

“Is this alright? I have other dresses—“

“S’perfect—“ he muttered and then cleared his throat, “Ahem, that is perfect Astra. Let us be off.”

He formally offered her his arm and she accepted with a proud smirk at the flush in his cheeks, then they ducked into his car and his driver whisked them off across town.

“What are we doing?” Astra asked after they took a turn to a part of town she’d never been to before.

“Did I not say it is a surprise?”

“Yes, but—“

“We’ve got guards, and I’ve gone to this place before. There’s no need to worry.”

“Andrew—“

“It’s where I go when I need to meet strangers.”

Astra blinked, dumbfounded.“You? Meet strangers?”

“How else am I supposed to find a queen? ” he muttered mutinously.

Astra stared over at him for a long moment, never having given it a second thought. Addy would be free to date whomever she chose, but if all else failed she could always have a Selection to find her husband. Andrew had nothing like that to choose from.

Astra was surprised when the car pulled to a stop at the backdoor to a nightclub. Could princes of England really go clubbing? But this place looked like it had tight security, and there were signs posted prominently that there were no cameras allowed on the premises. Andrew’s and Astra’s bodyguards stayed close by as they entered the club and Astra’s ears were assaulted by music so loud she could no longer hear it. All she could hear was the beat.

Andrew took her to the bar and bought her whatever drink she wanted, and then leant in close to her ear so that she could hear him say, “What do you think?”

“It’s a little loud!”

He chuckled, “About the strangers.”

“Oh!” Astra looked around as she spun the little umbrella from her pink drink between her fingers. There were all kinds of men here. Some older than her, some younger, some looked athletic and some looked bookish, and they were all having fun, losing themselves to the same beat. “What do you think?!” she yelled at him.

He looked around at the women in the room, sizing them up, and then shrugged, “Hard to say.”

“How do we meet them?!” Astra was yelling, while somehow he was able to keep his voice low and still be heard when he leaned close to her ear.

“Honestly? They usually just come up to me…” he confessed.

Astra rolled her eyes. Royals.

Sure enough, several women came up to Andrew and threw themselves at him while he and Astra waited for even one man to make a pass at her.

“Maybe you’re intimidating them away!” Astra suggested.

“Maybe so. Do you want me to go dance?”

Did she want him to go dance with one of the strange women in the club so that a strange man might come up to her and hit on her?

Not really, no. She wanted to dance with him. She liked dancing with him. More than that, she didn’t want to dance with anyone else. And she didn’t want him to dance with anyone else. She took his hand and dragged him out to the dance floor, their bodyguards hilariously close by, and they started moving.

It wasn’t dancing the way Astra was trained to think of it. There was no choreography, no gentle swell of melody to carry her movements, this was something far more basic than that. The best part was how quickly she was able to stop thinking about anything but her own breath, the sweat on her brow, and the man in front of her.

There was nothing else in the world. For as long as they could stay with the beat, there was only the beat. Endorphins that she associated with a long hard workout flooded her body, and Astra felt good. And beyond feeling good, she did not feel sad. She did not miss anybody. Not her family on the other side of the world, and not Kile. She was complete right here. All she had to do was make this last forever.

“I am not a professional dancer.” Andrew reminded her, breath coming far too fast to get that whole sentence out without gasping for air several times in the middle.

Astra giggled at him, then hugged him close, “This place is magical!” she yelled in his ear.

“Magical?”

And just to prove the point, and to express her gratitude, she pecked his lips with a kiss.

That was it, right? A kiss of gratitude?

As first kisses went, it was silly. They were both too out of breath to do more than mash their lips together for a second and then go back to gasping for air. Andrew led them away for water and after a few minutes to recover, he was ready to try again.

Astra helped him find a way to move to every other beat instead of every beat, essentially cutting the speed of his dancing in half for him. That helped tremendously. But to help him do this, she had to wrap her arms around his neck to guide him, and once he had the beat it was all much less frantic and much more sensual. This time when they kissed, it was not a silly peck on the lips.

Astra had only ever kissed Kile before, but since that was never happening again, she didn’t allow herself to think about that. She didn’t think about how Andrew was taller than Kile, and his cheeks were softer because he shaved every single morning without fail. She didn’t think about anything except how nice it was not to feel pain. When she was with Andrew, especially when she was kissing Andrew, she felt nothing but joy.

Was she using him to feel better?

If someone made you feel better and wanted to be around you, was that even using them?

They stayed at the club until Andrew was too tired to go on (and even Astra was ready to admit she was tired), and then they climbed back into Andrew’s car and rode off into the night.

Astra’s ears were ringing with the sudden silence, and they were both flushed and dripping with sweat. Astra was ready to bet her face matched the red of her dress and her hair, and was ready to feel embarrassed about that somewhere beneath her exhaustion, when Andrew slid his hand over to hers and squeezed.

She looked over at him and smiled.

It was past 2 in the morning when they got back to Astra’s palace, and Astra couldn’t believe they’d spent so many hours getting swept away like that.

“I’d do that every night if I thought my hearing could survive it.” Astra admitted as they struggled to get up the stairs, feeling distinctly like they had overcooked pasta for legs.

Astra took an ice-cold bath and then rolled her legs out to try to avert any soreness the next morning, and then she found Andrew in one of the guest bedrooms. “Thanks for the dancing… sorry we didn’t meet any strangers.” she grinned.

“I’m not.” he admitted, with complete candor.

“Well then, no future queen for you and no non-childhood friend to date for me.”

“Perhaps you could find a childhood enemy?” he suggested, and she laughed at the dryness of voice as he made the joke.

“Yes, I’ll have to make do.” she agreed.

***

The kisses felt stolen for the first week, like they were getting away with something they weren’t supposed to, but then one day Andrew showed up with Astra’s favorite breakfast, and two paper travel cups of tea, and he pecked her on the lips in greeting and it didn’t feel stolen at all. It felt as comfortable as an old sweater, and made her feel just as warm inside.

To celebrate the end of her first month in London, Astra ordered dinner for them from the same restaurant they’d eaten at on her very first night in town. He showed up looking frazzled after a long day of talking with members of parliament, but all the more pleased to see her because that stress was over now. And, of course, he brought her the same kind of wine they’d shared that first night.

Astra had bought a corkscrew weeks ago now, so they didn’t need to resort to using ancient swords to open their alcohol, which made it slightly less interesting. Astra curled up against him on the balcony overlooking the city and kissed him every chance she got.

“You’re certainly in a mood.” he noted with a smile down at her, after their fourth surprise kiss.

“I’m just glad to be here.”

“Are you?” he seemed surprised. She didn’t blame him. It was quite a turn from her first weepy night a month ago.

“Yes. I think London’s been good for me.”

And maybe she meant the city, with her new favorite local spots and the friends she was making at the seminar, but maybe she meant Andrew. Maybe she couldn’t really tell the difference, and it was all just good for her.

“I am very glad to hear that.”

“I wish I didn’t have to go to Waverly in two months.” Astra admitted. “It’s an amazing opportunity for my career, not to mention I’ll get to visit my grandparents in Carolina all the time, but… I like London.”

This time she was blatantly talking about him.

“Well… London’s not going anywhere anytime soon, I suppose.” he pointed out, fully onto her game.

She hmm-ed into her wineglass, “I suppose not.”

“And you’re always welcome in London, you know.”

Astra giggled and shook her head, surprising him with another kiss as a reward for playing along with her silly euphemism.

Later that night, when the food was stashed away in the kitchen and the wine was mostly empty, Andrew joined Astra again on the balcony as she stood there with the springtime breeze blowing through her loose, curly hair. He wrapped his arms around her waist from behind and pressed a kiss to her shoulder.

“I meant it, you know.” he said. “You could stay as long as you like. There’s a tremendous ballet company in London, perhaps you’ve heard of it.”

Astra laughed, pressing a hand to his over her stomach and turning to look up at him. “Maybe someday.”

“You’re dead-set on going to Waverly, then?”

“Well, I’ve signed a contract.” she explained.

“Ah. They shall imprison you if you break it. I understand.”

His voice was always so serious when he joked, never giving away the game. She laughed at the thought and said, “Yes, there’s a special prison for ballet dancers who break their contracts, it’s especially brutal. I hear they make you dance to jazz all day.”

This time his lips brushed the placed where her shoulders met her neck, and her breath hitched at the sensation. “I shan’t extradite you.” he concluded, his warm lips brushing her skin. “I shall keep you here, safe and sound, far away from the ballet constables.”

Astra laced her fingers with his over her stomach and said, “They’re relentless, the ballet constables. You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into.”

His lips trailed up her neck and stopped at her ear where he said softly, “I think I can manage.”

Astra’s entire body erupted in chills, and suddenly she didn’t want to continue their elaborate, jokey banter about the consequences of her actions. She turned in his arms and pressed her lips roughly to his, knowing beyond the shadow of a doubt that all she really wanted was to lose herself in the taste and the feel and the smell of him. Andrew was the only person in the world who made her not care about the future, and when his lips were on her skin that was doubly true.

It wasn’t exactly real happiness she felt when she was lying in bed with him, his sandy brown hair all ruffled, his arm slung across her like he was afraid she’d disappear in the night. True, meaningful, lasting happiness was something that required a lot of factors: feeling good about the present and hopeful about the future, and at peace with the past. Astra wasn’t at peace with her past, and she didn’t even want to think about the future, but the present… the present was so good. It was one out of three. One out of three wasn’t bad.

***

If Andrew’s parents noticed that he was essentially living with Astra that spring, they didn’t say anything about it. Maybe they just assumed that, since they were close friends, he was keeping her company and enjoying a nice, extended visit. And that was perfectly true, except that they were sharing a bed and occasionally a shower, and they shared a cup of coffee in the morning and a bottle of wine at night.

They didn’t go back to that club, but they found other ways to go out together without being photographed. There were secret tables in the kitchens of restaurants, special royal boxes in theaters, private trains to private estates, and one time there was a royal yacht. Astra was surprised that Andy had so much freedom, as the heir to the throne. Addy couldn’t have dreamed of roaming around Illéa the way that Andrew was gallivanting across his future kingdom. Sure, part of it was Andrew making sure Astra was having the time of her life— he probably didn’t usually venture away from home so much— but even so.

“Will you be able to keep this up once you’re king?” she’d asked him as they sat curled up together on a train ride returning from the south. “All this rambling.” she explained at his questioning look.

“Ah. No, there will certainly be less. But my job will be nothing nearly so intense as King Maxon’s, if that is what you’re thinking. For one thing, I’ve got parliament.”

Astra wasn't exactly sure how England’s parliament worked. She knew King Eoan set the legislative agenda, but he couldn’t pass any kind of law on his own. “I can’t believe they let you have a whole train to yourself, and you barely have to work.” she teased.

His arm was wrapped around her shoulders, and his thumb began tracing her upper arm as he said, “If you think my future job’s a scandal, you should see what our queen has to do. Host parties, go shopping, appear at events…” his voice sounded as if it was a strain to remain light and carefree. As if his words were more important than he wanted them to be.

Astra leaned her head on his shoulder. Those were all things she already did for Illéa. Well, she didn’t host many parties, but she sometimes helped her Aunt Ames out when things were especially overwhelming. It was strange to think that she had experience doing the same job as the Queen of England.

“All that, and she gets to retire young?”

“Assuming that whole heir business is sorted out sufficiently early.” he admitted.

“Oh, that.” Astra giggled.

“On the whole, it’s not a terrible job.” he said.

“No, not when you factor in the jewelry.” Astra agreed, still joking.

“Precisely.” Andrew nodded with a small smile against the top of her head.

Astra wasn’t sure why he didn’t return her joke with one of his own.

***

Though Astra very much enjoyed being swept off her feet by the prince, it was the quiet nights at the palace that meant the most to her. Sometimes, after dinner and a long, hot bath, her joints would feel well enough to practice some choreography in one of the drawing rooms. Andrew would play the piano for her, putting years of lessons to use for the first time. Sometimes her joints would not feel well enough for more dancing after a long day at the seminar, and he’d rub her battered feet and ankles until she melted into a puddle at the other end of the sofa or bed, or wherever they happened to be.

She’d ask him about his work, but he wouldn’t tell her much. Maybe he was worried about protecting state secrets, or maybe he didn’t want to worry her. Maybe he didn’t want her to see him in less than a good mood, because he was only there to make her happy. And how could she not be happy?

One night, in the middle of her second month in England, as she laid awake in their bed and brushed her fingers through his unruly hair (a sight so few had ever seen: the Heir to England with unruly hair), she pressed a kiss to the shell of his ear and said softly, “What are we going to do when I have to leave for Waverly?”

Sleepily, he’d pried his eyes open, his eyelashes fluttering against her skin. “What would you like to do?”

“Freeze this moment in amber. Live in it forever.”

“Be young, in love, and carefree forever?” he’d smirked.

“In love?” she’d hesitated, surprised. They’d only been attached at the lips for six weeks now, as impossible as it seemed. Hadn’t they enjoyed half a lifetime together already?

“Oh dear.” He’d lifted his head up so that he could look in her eyes, “I shouldn’t have said that.”

Astra shook her head, “It’s okay. I do love you Andrew.”

“Do you?” he sounded amazed.

And she did. She’d always loved him, just as he’d always loved her. They’d grown up together, perfect friends, how could she not love him?

“I’m sorry you didn’t know that already.” she let her hand fall from his hair down his spine, coming to rest on his bare lower back. She traced the shape of a heart there with her finger and he shuddered. “You’re one of the best friends I’ll ever have, and I love you.”

He smiled and returned his cheek to her chest, listening for her heartbeat. “Yes. This moment would do just fine.”

“We could freeze this moment and allow archaeologists to discover it in a few thousand years.”

“And if we don’t like the future, we could simply freeze this moment again.” he agreed.

“You don’t think you’d be bored after a few thousand years?”

He grinned, one hand tracing her ribcage lazily, “I could find a few ways to keep myself occupied.”

***

Astra didn’t notice the first time there was a photographer waiting outside of the dance studio after her rehearsals. And then, a couple of days later, when a rumor sourced to a local food delivery driver was printed in a Sunday paper saying that he delivered Prince Andrew’s favorite kind of curry to the Palace where Astra was staying a couple of times per week. She didn’t mind when Andrew suggested they stop sneaking out to exclusive clubs or restaurants around the city, because staying in was extremely entertaining.

But it was hard to miss when Andrew nervously appeared in her doorway one evening and said, instead of ‘hello’ or ‘how was your day’, “Grandmother has asked to meet you.”

Astra gaped. Queen Cerridwen, King Eoan’s mother, had never met any of the Illéan royals in-person. Maybe she’d met Uncle Maxon back before he was King, when she was still the active queen, but maybe not even then. “Me? Wh…why?”

Andrew ran a hand through his hair and ruffled it in a way that would have been funny if he hadn’t look so stressed. He sank to his knees to sit next to Astra, who’d been sitting on the floor, using the coffee table to hold her nail polish bottles as she painted her toes. “The rumors got to her.”

“Rumors… about us?”

Andrew nodded, “I’ve had the press department squashing everything the second they hear about it, and it’s bought us some time, but the rumors have been consistent for long enough now—“

“The rumors that we’re spending time together?” Astra asked.

“Yes.” Andrew looked faintly nauseous.

Astra smiled and traced his cheekbone with her thumb soothingly, “We are spending time together. We’re not being falsely accused.”

“No, I know… I think, just… I think we need to talk.”

Those were heavy words.

Kile had been the last one to say those words to her, and the outcome had been really unpleasant.

“You didn’t bring wine?” Astra noticed for the first time.

“I wanted us to keep our heads clear.”

“Are you ending this?” Astra asked, eyebrows furrowed.

“No.” Andrew promised. “But we’ve never talked about what this is before. I’ve been able to buy us a little slice of time to ourselves, but I’ve reached the end of my tricks.”

Astra looked into his eyes carefully, noticing the strain there for the first time, “You never said you had to use tricks…”

“I didn’t want you to have to worry about it. I wanted to be… uncomplicated. Simple. After everything you’ve been through, I thought that you needed simplicity.”

“I did.” she admitted, chest suddenly aching at the thought that the simple times might be gone.

He brushed an errant curl behind her ear and smiled bracingly, “I am not here to tell you that the world is ending. Merely that people have found us out. They’re asking questions that I do not have the answers to, and in lieu of my answers, they are coming to their own conclusions. Grandmother amongst the rest.”

“She wants to meet me because she knows we’ve been dating?”

Andrew huffed a breath, “It’s her way of forcing the matter at hand. When it comes to me, to dating the English Heir, there is dating and there is Dating. Courting. Something official, not just between you and I, but between us and all of England.”

Astra looked a little creeped out at the thought, “They… want in on our dates?”

Andrew rubbed his brow, “In a manner of speaking… there comes a point when I’m meant to introduce anyone I am seeing to the people of England as a potential future queen.”

“Why? It’s not like they get to vote on who stays in your bed, or in our case, my bed.”

“No, but it’s…” he seemed so uncomfortable at having to explain this to her. Probably any English girl he dated would have seen this coming a mile away and known what to expect. Astra blushed a little, feeling inadequate for the first time all spring. “It’s a bit like a small Selection, perhaps. They get to know the person their prince is dating and they get to watch me court their future queen.”

“Oh, and your gramma wants you to do that with me?” What a relief to know she was just a confused old woman who’d misunderstood.

“Precisely. Meeting Grandmother at her estate in Scotland would signal the official start to our official courtship.”

Astra felt all the tension leave her body and she smirked at him, “Your gramma is proposing marriage to me on your behalf.”

“Basically.”

“What’s she in such a hurry for? We’re teenagers.”

Andrew let out an exasperated sigh, relieved now that he could see Astra wasn’t panicking and throwing everything she owned into a bag to haul back to Illéa on the first flight out the next morning. “I don’t know. You’re a good match, obviously. My father is close with your uncle, but it would be smart to solidify that alliance with some kind of marriage.”

“Very sexy and romantic.” Astra giggled.

“Isn’t it just?” he agreed wryly. He pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath, “I suppose she’s worried because I’ll be king in a few more years. She doesn’t want me to have to go through that enormous transition of responsibility by myself. I suppose finding a queen would be much harder as king than as prince, too. Father’s even asked me if I want to take a few months next year and devote myself to dating full time before he begins handing off responsibilities to me in earnest. As part of a formal ascension plan.”

“What a conversation.”

“You can’t begin to imagine.”

Astra collapsed into giggles, doing her best to imagine it anyway. King Eoan asking his son if he wanted to be a full-time, 40-hours-per-week dater as part of his obligations to the crown.

“It’s good you think this is funny.” he sulked, but he only partially meant it. He was genuinely glad she was laughing instead of crying.

Fairly certain her toes were dry now, Astra stood and screwed the caps on her polish, stashing the bottles in a drawer next to her vanity. She stretched, fingers reached for the ceiling, going up on her toes, and as she came down she whisked her loose t-shirt over her head.

“Astra.” Andrew cleared his throat, forcing his eyes away from her lacy, pale blue and white bra, “Clear heads, remember?”

“I’m just getting comfortable.” she said in a voice that clearly told him she was not just getting comfortable.

He stood and she came over and loosened his tie for him. He placed a hand over hers when she made for his shirt’s buttons and said, “Do you want this to last past April?”

Astra gulped, “I wish April was forever.”

He stared at her, the only flicker of doubt coming from the small twitch of his eyebrow. “That’s not the same thing.”

“… I know.”

“You don’t have to answer me tonight, but we should talk about it. If we keep going past April, I suspect it will make the most sense for you… for you to meet grandmother.”

This time, when Astra continued with his buttons, it was a genuine effort to help him get comfortable, and not a ploy to see his bare chest. Seeing his bare chest was an undeniable bonus, though. She linked her fingers with his and dragged him towards her bed, and then she flopped down on her back and stared up at the top of her four poster canopy. “So what would happen after I met your grandmother?”

“You’d get some secret service protection.” Andrew laid on his stomach and used his finger to draw doodles on the smooth, soft skin above her navel. His breath felt warm as it puffed against her ribs, but her skin erupted in goosebumps anyway, and he pressed a chaste kiss to them. He knew the effect he had on her, and it only made him want to cherish her more.

“I’d go back to Illéa, though. To Waverly.”

“Yes. We’d coordinate that. It would probably be a less hectic place for you than in England.”

“You think England will be hectic if you announce we’re officially dating?”

Andrew huffed one dry, humorless laugh. “When they find out I’m thinking of making you their princess… sweetheart, it’s going to be a nightmare of a circus.”

“Terrifying clowns?”

“The most terrifying.” he agreed.

Astra sighed, “Then what? How long would we get to date before they’d expect you to decide whether you want to marry me or not?”

“Given the time you’d be spending in Illéa, we could get a year.”

“A year.” Astra liked the sound of that. Sure, she’d dance until her contract was up in Waverly, but then she’d come back and get to do this with Andrew for months and months. His dad might even let him date her full-time. Morning, noon, and night cuddles.

“Yes, and then…”

“And then a fairytale proposal. Would it have to be public?”

“Gosh, no.” Andrew promised. “But it would need to have a good story behind it. Take you somewhere meaningful—“

“Like the club where we first kissed.” Astra teased, running her hands through his hair.

“No, not at all.” he chuckled.

“And would I get to wear one of the crown jewels or something?”

Andrew lifted his head to look at her. “Would you want one?”

Astra laughed. It was all so completely silly. She was an eighteen year old girl! A boy was offering her a crown jewel! She laughed some more.

“Our engagement would be six months, eight at most.” he said. “That’s going to be the hardest time for you. You won’t be royal yet, but you’ll have all the expectations. Of course, you’d have everything you’d need from us. Security, education, an allowance for your clothes.”

“Mmm, clothes.”

“And then—“

“A royal wedding?”

“Yes.”

“And a royal honeymoon?”

“Of course.” he pressed another kiss to her skin, this one not so chaste.

“And then I’m your princess?”

“Until we take our oaths to become king and queen.”

“You really think I could be queen?”

“You think you couldn’t?”

“I know how hard it is on my Aunt Ames. It’s not really the life I saw for myself.”

“It’s different in England, you know. We’re smaller than most Illéan provinces, and we’ve got parliament.”

She couldn’t continue to fantasize about marrying him without understanding what he meant when he said that. “Andy, how does parliament help you?”

“Eh… help is not the word.” Andrew admitted. “It’s more that they take certain responsibilities off the monarch’s plate. Whether they do so in a manner that helps is an entirely different question. But unlike Queen America, who assists on many matters of policy and diplomacy, my mother’s job is almost entirely ceremonial, supporting my father’s efforts.”

“So do you think I could dance if we were married?”

Andrew fell quiet, wracking his brain for a way. “Not once we were engaged… I just can’t imagine that you would have time. And you’d quickly become one of the most famous women in the world… not that you’re anonymous now, just that we’re talking about a whole different stratosphere of public interest… even if we found time for you to dance in the royal ballet, it might not be safe.”

Astra hated that answer, but it made perfect sense to her. Addy had never regularly commuted into the city for any reason. Keeping her safe during recurring, publicly open performances would have been a nightmare, and Astra supposed that would be true for her too.

Astra also knew she wasn’t going to dance forever. She probably had a good ten or twelve years before retirement, and that was only if she avoided any major injuries. In Astra’s experience, injuries and pregnancies were two of the most common reasons dancers retired younger than thirty and they were both to be avoided.

“How long do you think we could put all of this off? I don’t want to stop dancing.”

“I know. I want you to dance! You’re bloody magnificent when you dance.”

“Just when I dance?” she teased suggestively.

“Other times too.” he smirked up at her. He let his face fall gently on her stomach, breathing in the smell of her body wash and then lifting his head again, “I could tell Grandmother we’re not yet ready. You could go to Waverly and come back for visits now and again.”

“Sounds like I’d miss you.”

“I’d miss you too.”

“Sounds better to me, though.”

“I suppose it must. The people mightn’t be fooled, they’ll still expect something is happening between us.”

“They’d be right.”

“But Astra… No matter what, I’ll be King four years from now. There’s no delaying that. ”

“That’s a long time, Andy.”

“I can’t… you must understand, I’d need to know for certain by then.”

“Of course!”

“Ideally… Ideally I would be married by then so that we could share the coronation ceremony.”

“So we could have a wedding earlier that fall? You’d propose that spring? That gives us a few years. That gives me time to dance.”

“But would it be enough?”

“Three years is forever, Andy.” Astra grinned down at him.

“And you’d really consider being my queen?”

“I’d consider a lot of things for blue eyes like yours.”

“They are an important part of the benefits package.” he agreed, placing an arm on either side of her and bringing himself up so that they were eye to eye. “Along with lots of travel to exotic locations. The finest champagne money can buy. Famous designers tripping over themselves to clothe you. A handful of palaces. Lots of diamonds.” he punctuated each of these offers with a deep, heated kiss and by the end Astra was absolutely dizzy and in no state to negotiate her future job benefits.

***

By the end of the week it was not just one photographer waiting outside of the ballet studio anymore, there were dozens. They were aggressive and pushy, yelling her name and constantly demanding she tell them if she was seeing Andrew. Her Illéan security detail was not pleased. The theater that housed the ballet was difficult to secure against so many persistent intruders, and there was serious discussion about whether they could even let her finish the seminar. They also discussed calling King Maxon and asking him for reinforcements, which made Astra’s stomach feel sick. She didn’t want her uncle to have to pay money and spare resources to send across the world to her all because of her love life.

It was a tense day and a half before Andrew was able to come through with security of his own to supplement her detail. It had been a tough thing to organize, given she wasn’t officially his girlfriend, but he’d found a way for her.

If Astra knew anything in those days, it was that he would always find a way for her. That had never been the problem.

There were reporters outside of Astra’s palace now, night and day, and they marked each time Andrew came or went. Instead of lounging together on the balcony overlooking the city, Astra and Andrew had to draw the curtains closed for the sake of their privacy.

“We should just tell them we’re not really dating.” Astra said. “I can’t outright lie to them.” Andrew insisted. “I can’t break trust with my people. I don’t have to confirm we’re together, but I can’t just tell them we’re not.”

“There’s got to be a way… tell them we have no intention of courting right now. That’s not a lie, is it?”

“It’s a bit transparent.” Andrew pointed out.

“Well, I’d love to hear your better idea!”

Andrew sighed into her hair. They were dancing to the music on the television, its glow the only light in her bedroom. “Maybe we break up. And I tell them we broke up.”

“You’re breaking up with me?” Astra suddenly sounded so small and vulnerable, he squeezed her tighter, “No! Not really. Not in that way. It’s just a way we can… buy you some more time before we have to fess up to anything.”

Astra didn’t want to fake-break up with Andrew. She wanted the entire world to leave them to their peace and quiet in their little palace of domestic bliss forever. What was so complicated about that?

Andrew had the idea of staying away one night to try to relieve some of the heat, but all it did was leave Astra pacing the floor alone, listening to the rumble of dozens of people camped out on the street in front of her palace all night.

Astra and Andrew were summoned by Queen Waverly the next day and sat down together on the sofa in her office.

Everything about it was embarrassing. Andy’s mother needed to know how long they had been romantic, how far their romance had gone, how serious they were about their future together, and why Andrew had turned down his grandmother’s invitation.

“Lovey, she wasn’t trying to force your hand.” Waverly told Andrew sympathetically. “What’s happening now out there… it’s going to get worse, the longer we let the media spin itself up into a frenzy.”

Astra said, “I only have a week and a half left, your Majesty—“

“Astra.” Waverly reproached the use of her title. “We’re having this discussion as family. Call me Aunt Waverly… if you’re marrying my son, call me Mum.”

Astra gulped, looking at Andrew, lost.

“We’ve only been together a few months, we don’t know—“ Andrew spoke up, until Waverly nodded and held up her hand to silence him.

“I understand entirely.” She turned her head to the side to study a giant portrait of one of Andy’s female ancestors. “Listen you two, I know that this is a complicated situation. The only thing that will help is being forthright with the people.”

“If Astra meets grandmother, the people will be demanding a proposal by Christmas.”

“Perhaps so.”

“We’re not ready for that.” Andrew was keeping a lid on his princely composure, but Astra could tell he felt hopelessly trapped by his mother and the palace and his people beyond its walls. He was ready to rattle the cages.

Waverly nodded, “Your father and I will do everything we possibly can for you, you know that. We only want your happiness. But things are getting very intense, very fast out there. That’s happening because you’re choosing not to do things the conventional way. You must understand that.”

Very intense, very fast. That was Astra’s whole relationship with Andrew in a nutshell.

“It’s just a week and a half.” Astra reiterated. “Then I’ll be back in Illéa and the press can calm down for a while.”

“The speculation won’t stop until it is addressed by us, and it might even turn ugly.” Waverly warned. “When you stop giving them fresh photograph opportunities every day at your ballet house, when there aren’t rumors flying about sightings of the two of you all over London—“

“Not true, by the way.” Andrew said.

“Some of them could be.” Astra reminded him.

“Only the very old ones. We’ve not been out in a fortnight.”

Astra nodded.

“My point is, in a vacuum of real news, someone will invent rumors to splash on their tabloids. It will be anything and everything. Abuse, affairs, pregnancy out of wedlock, Astra will be a gold digger who broke Andy’s heart one week, the next week Andy will be a womanizing fiend who took advantage of a childhood friend. Relations between England and Illéa will be on the brink—“

“They won’t!” Astra objected.

“Only in the magazines.” Waverly replied. “But we wouldn't want any hostile nations thinking the rumors were true and attempting to take advantage of the supposed rift. You see how this could spiral?”

The room fell to silence for the first time. Astra shivered just a little, “I feel like I’ve been tossed into a tornado.”

“It gets better." Waverly promised. “Once you’re proactive about telling your own story, it gets harder for the media to frenzy over half-credible unattributed rumors.”

Astra buried her face in her hands. She’d thought she’d have years before she had to tell the media a story about her relationship with Andrew. It felt wrong that the people of England were forcing an eighteen year old girl to move so quickly.

“I just need time.” Astra said into her hands.

“Right.” Waverly made up her mind and stood, “In that case, Eoan and I are inviting you to stay here with us for the rest of your visit, Astra. We’ll tell the media that we’re very much looking forward to spending time with you before the end of your trip.”

“No, wait…” Astra looked up, heartbroken that she was losing her private little palace. Would she even get to go back and say goodbye to it?

“This isn’t a punishment, sweetheart.” Waverly sighed and then tugged Astra up to standing, pulling her into a tight hug. “You’re not in trouble. Not one little bit. You’ll have more privacy here, behind our gates and with all of our guards. You’ll have one of our cars to drive you to and from the ballet, and Andy won’t be caught coming and going at all hours of the night because he already lives here… or he did before you came to town.” she said the last part teasingly to her oldest son, who had the temerity to blush at his shamelessness.

Astra felt her eyes sting with tears, “I love that palace… it’s been a good home for me.”

Waverly smiled sweetly, “You’ll be welcome to stay there the next time you come back. If you and Andrew announce an engagement, we’ll fully staff the place for you so that it’s safer. Perhaps you and Andrew could use it as your home for the time between your marriage and his assumption of the crown.”

“Really?” Andrew looked enticed by the offer.

“You’ll need to live somewhere, dear. You couldn’t live with your parents as newlyweds, it would be unbearable.” Waverly teased. “England would never get an heir that way.”

Heirs.

Hearing the queen say that word in this palace, next to the crown prince made it feel very real and very scary. Did Astra want her kids to be heirs? She thought again of Addy and Jamesy… she loved them more than anything in the world, but she couldn’t imagine raising her children for such an incredible responsibility.

Waverly continued softly, “The main thing is, we need to be very delicate here, my loves. When Andrew becomes king, he will become the head of the church. Please understand, I do not mind what you the two of you do or don’t do, so long as you are safe and consenting.”

“Mother.” Andy squirmed.

“But it would put Andrew in a difficult position, becoming head of the church, if he was seen to have a… well a marriage-style relationship with a woman who was not his wife for too long.”

“Yes, heaven forbid I have a healthy, long-term girlfriend.” Andy scowled.

“It’s the vows to God that are the issue at hand, not heaven, and you know it.” Waverly scolded his sass quietly, but efficiently.

“So we break up.” Astra concluded. “We officially break up when I go back to Illéa, and then when it’s time, I come back to England and we publicly reunite… you don’t have any church issues, and I have time to dance.”

Waverly looked between them quietly. “It might be the only option, short of scheduling dinner with your grandmother.”

Andrew looked almost as sad as if the breakup was real. Maybe he was scared it would become real once Astra was out of the whirlwind. She laced her fingers with his and squeezed, “We’ll figure this out.”

He squeezed back twice, gently.

***

That night Astra slept in Andrew’s bedroom for the first time in their entire affair.

“The maids are gonna know.”

“Everyone knows.” he snorted into her hair. “That’s why we’re here and not across town in our own palace.”

“Your parents are in the building.” she complained when his hands began wandering her body.

“Not close enough to hear anything.”

“Still… what if they have to walk by for a glass of water or something?”

“You want me to keep my hands to myself tonight?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Oh, so shall we see who can be quietest?” he brushed his fingers across her ribs and she quietly shrieked a giggle. “You are so bad at this, darling.”

“Oh yeah?” she got her revenge with vicious tickles, exploiting every sensitive spot she’d found on his body the last few months.

***

Living in the English palace was an easy adjustment for Astra. She'd grown up in Illéa Palace which, as the functioning capital building of one of the largest nations in the world, was larger and had a much bigger staff. The English palace was certainly ancient and stately, but Astra had grown up visiting the place, so at least she wasn’t too dazzled to see this for what it was.

There was no more delivery from local restaurants once those palace gates were closed, but the royal chef made sure that Andy and Astra had everything they wanted delivered to one of their rooms each night, so that wasn’t actually too much of a change. Not only that, but the maids were discrete and only came onto their floor when Andrew was at work and Astra was at the ballet for the day, so it was almost like their bedrooms magically tidied themselves up each day.

Really, the biggest change for Astra had been weeks before, when rumors had started flying and she and Andrew had stopped venturing out into London. Andrew still appeared in her doorway just in time for dinner, looking handsome and happy to see her. They still shared good meals and long baths, and a warm bed each night. But now the illusion that time didn't exist and that they could continue peacefully, blissfully existing in their little bubble forever was burst.

Since the royal palace hadn't released a statement about the gorgeous young foreign princess living in the same palace as their handsome young future king, salacious headlines were beginning to trickle from tabloids to increasingly reputable news sources. Astra and Andrew's private affair wasn’t so private anymore.

Some part of Astra had been hoping that the rumors would die down once she and Andrew had retreated into the palace, even though she knew better. But on her second-to-final rehearsal before her big seminar performance, photographers started camping out overnight at the stage door to the ballet, not just hounding Astra but harassing her fellow dancers, too. It was humiliating to think that these world-class performers, some of whom Astra had idolized for years, were getting manhandled on their way to and from work every day because of Astra’s love life. She wasn’t sure her reputation in the industry would ever recover from this. Who would want to work with her when her very presence could cause such a disruption?

She cried in the backseat of the car on her way back to the royal palace that day, but she had big sunglasses on, and at least no photographers caught her moment of weakness.

“I don’t want to be the girl who’s dating the future king. I want to be a damn good dancer.” Astra said that night, her cheek pressed to Andrew’s chest as he drew swirling designs on her bare back with his fingers.

“You are both.”

“You don’t understand… you literally can’t.”

“What?” Andrew wasn’t insulted, which was the great thing about him. He was always humble about his own limitations. “Why can I not understand?”

“Have you ever looked up to someone who was truly excellent at the very thing that you wanted to be truly excellent at?”

“Of course.”

“Who?”

“King Maxon.”

Astra rolled her eyes and lifted her head so he could see her at it. “You met him when you could still count your age on one hand.”

“So?”

“So most people never get to meet their idols, and if they do it’s because they’ve worked extremely hard to become very good at something. There are choreographers and dancers at this seminar that I’ve admired for a decade. And now my presence is turning their workplace, a place I consider to be sacred, into a hostile circus.”

Andrew frowned down at her and said softly, “Did I not promise you terrifying clowns?”

“I don’t want to bring chaos to every stage I cross.” Astra pouted.

Andrew nodded and said, “So we should announce our breakup immediately. I’ll release a statement tomorrow, and ask a friend of mine to appear in public with me tomorrow night… a woman. It won’t cure everything overnight, but it would surely alleviate some of the pressure.”

Astra stared into his eyes, then studied the line of his nose, the cut of his cheekbones, the curve of his jaw. “That’s a lot of trouble to go through just for me.”

“Astra, are you joking? You’re the one going through trouble for me.”

Astra nodded, but she dropped a kiss onto his lips anyway. “Okay, but the breakup is fake.” her lips danced over his.

His teeth gently teased her lower lip as he replied, “Yeah. I noticed.”

***

As warm and inviting as the arms holding her were, Astra had a difficult time staying asleep that night. She was nervous about returning to rehearsals the next morning, nervous about their final performance, now only a couple of days away, nervous about her new relationship with Andrew, and nervous about being nervous about her new relationship with Andrew.

At around four in the morning she slipped out of bed and tiptoed back to her suite, where she found a pitcher of water and a tray of snacks waiting for her. She spent so many hours of her day exercising that sometimes she woke up in the middle of the night ravenously, painfully hungry, so she’d requested that she be left some snacks just in case. She picked at a scone, lost in her anxieties, and her stress about not being able to sleep, until the telephone next to her bed rang so loudly and shrilly that it caused her to jump and splash some of her glass of water onto her night shirt.

“Hello?” Astra picked up the phone, hoping to hear an Illéan voice on the other end of the line. She hadn’t spoken to Addy in a few days, and it had been almost a week since her Aunt Ames or Uncle Maxon had phoned. She hadn’t spoken to her parents in longer than that, but they’d be arriving in London in less that twenty-four hours so that they could watch her final performance, so she wasn’t too desperate to speak to them.

And while the voice on the other line was Illéan, it definitely wasn’t one she had been expecting.

“Hey.”

Astra’s stomach clenched and her body flooded with adrenaline. She reminded herself to behave like a normal person and not like a lunatic when, as casually as she could, she replied, “Kile? Is that you?” like she didn’t know. Like she wouldn’t know his voice anywhere, anytime, under any circumstance. She knew his voice better than she knew her own.

“Sorry, I know it’s the middle of the night over there. …You don’t sound like you were sleeping, though.”

He would know.

Astra gulped hard, “I needed a snack.” It was a lie, but it was close enough to the truth.

“Hm. Is he there then?”

Astra felt defensive anger flare up in her chest, and only later realized that the anger was covering a sense of guilt. “So what if he is? You broke up with me—“

“Astra—“

“No, it’s okay. I’m not saying that in a mean way. I’m stating a fact. We are not together because you broke up with me, so why do you care if he’s here?”

There was a long pause and then a low groan on the other end of the phone. Astra heard a brush of fabric over his microphone, as if he’d been rubbing his face and his sleeve caught on the receiver.

“I want to know if he’s there, because I want to talk to you when you’re alone. It’s why I’m calling so late… or early, I guess.” Kile said.

Astra’s traitor heart beat faster. What did he want to talk to her about when she was alone? Was he going to apologize? Was he going to ask for her back?

It was too late, obviously. Astra had obviously moved on. Obviously. “He’s not here.”

Kile sounded relieved when he said, “Good.” and that annoyed Astra. He had no right to be relieved that she wasn’t in bed with another man. He’d hurt her in a way she’d never known she could hurt before.

She lashed out, “I didn’t want to wake him up with my snacking. But he’ll probably notice I’m gone soon, so you should hurry up and say what you want to say.”

The pained sound that snuck out of his throat with his next exhale was not as satisfying as Astra had hoped it would be. She regretted her words already. Maybe now he wouldn’t ask for her back… not that she wanted him to.

Kile said, “Let me ask you something…”

This was it. He was going to ask for forgiveness. He was going to ask her to come back to Illéa and be with him.

“What do you want more than anything in the world?” Kile said.

What was he expecting her to say? That she wanted him? She was dating the Crown Prince of England!

“Astra?”

“What do you mean, Kile?”

“What do you mean, what do I mean? For our whole lives you’ve always wanted one thing more than anything in the world. What is it?”

Oh. Astra replied almost mechanically, her voice barely above a mumble, “I want to be the Prima Ballerina for the Angeles Ballet for at least a season, maybe two.”

“And you wanted that enough that you didn’t even think about moving closer to my university, because it would have taken you away from the Angeles ballet. And not for a good reason, like that invitation you got to dance in Waverly. For no reason. For me.”

“You’re not no reason—“

“No, I’m just not a good enough reason.”

“Kile—“

“You can’t argue with that.”

“You said you wouldn’t promise to look for apprenticeships and internships in the cities where I was dancing. You said you don’t want to live in Angeles when you grow up!”

“I don’t. I’m going to go where I can do my best work.” he said plainly. “I still think you and I made a good choice to split up.”

Hearing him say that was hard. She wanted him to regret it. She wanted him to miss her like she had missed him before Andrew had swept her off her feet. Losing him had changed her and she would never be the same as she was before, and he wasn’t even sorry.

Kile continued, “I’m just saying… what was the point of drawing a line in the sand about you and me if you were just going to walk all over it for Andy?”

“What?”

“We both know that you’ll never be prima anything if you marry Andy. You told me yourself, every waking hour of a prima’s life is devoted to dancing or preparing to dance. There are no hobbies, no vacations, no date nights. There definitely isn't time to be somebody’s princess.”

“I’m already an Illéan Prin—“

“Cut the shit, Astra, you know what I mean.” Kile sounded exasperated, and she knew why. She was trying to miss his point, but he wasn’t exactly being subtle about it so dodging it was proving impossible.

“Maybe I want something else now. Maybe I want to marry Andrew.”

“Look… Andy’s not a bad guy—“ Kile admitted through gritted teeth, “But there will be plenty of not bad guys waiting for you after you retire. So if you pick him, do it because you want the life he’ll give you more than the life you can earn for yourself. And be ready to bury your dreams of being a prima ballerina forever, if you do. I know you, and I know you’re getting swept up in this—“

“Don’t talk about me like I’m some helpless little… little damsel, Kile.” Astra snapped.

“Think about it logistically. Do you want to move to the other side of the world from your parents and your little brothers? They’ll visit you as often as they can, but your visits to Illéa will always be to the Palace, to King Maxon and Addy. You won’t be able to go home again. Do you want to have to keep a royal schedule, planned months and years in advance? And you can forget being around from Addy once she becomes queen, you’ll be trapped on the far side of an ocean.”

“Kile—“ Astra tried to interrupt him because she wanted him to stop making sense.

“What about the little things? What about the weather? You’re an Angeles girl, are you going to miss the sun? You know they use different numbers for temperature over there, right? How’s it going to feel to wake up in the morning and have some maid tell you that it’s twenty-five degrees outside, so you’d better stay in the shade to keep cool?”

“Kile.” Astra laughed.

“I’m serious. You’re not just choosing a career here, Astra, you’re choosing a life: from the moment you wake up to the moment you fall asleep.” Kile paused and let out a tired sigh. “I just don’t want you to make a big mistake that you can’t undo. I know how badly you want to dance. You’re not ready for this, and even if you were, this wouldn’t be the right choice for you.”

“I’ve changed, Kile.” she wanted to add that he’d changed her. That losing him had made her someone new, someone she didn’t even know yet, but she kept that part to herself. Listening to his voice for so long that night… suddenly she found that she didn’t want to hurt him anymore.

“It’s barely been three months, Astra. You haven’t changed that much.” he promised.

Astra wasn’t sure. Sometimes change was gradual, sure, but sometimes change was all at once. Traumatic change was a sudden shattering of what came before, such that one could never go back again. That was what losing Kile had been like.

But did that mean she wanted to give up dancing and become Andrew’s princess? His queen? His wife and the mother of his heirs? Did she want to leave Illéa forever and eventually move into this palace?

She wanted all of that when she was wrapped up in Andrew’s arms.

But here, alone in the middle of the night when she had her wits about her…

She climbed back into bed and woke Andrew up with steady, gentle kisses. Everything about the love they made that morning was slow and desperate, and even though she hadn’t meant it to, in the end it felt like goodbye.

***

Astra was gone to her final rehearsals before dawn, but later that morning Andrew was true to his word and made a big announcement that he and Astra had both been secretly dating, and were now publicly broken up. He made a good show of wandering around London looking sad that day, and that night he went out to dinner with a fashion model friend, who did not mind the publicity one little bit.

There were still plenty of photographers salivating at the chance to photograph Astra looking dismal at having lost the chance to become an English princess, but at least they were leaving the rest of the dancers, and everyone else associated with the ballet, in peace.

Astra’s parents arrived at the royal palace in time for dinner that night, and Astra had a lot of explaining to do to them. King Eoan and Queen Waverly seemed to find Astra’s discomfort at explaining her affair with Andrew to her parents over roasted asparagus incredibly amusing, and possibly reminiscent of the beginning of their own relationship. It wasn’t fair, though. Andrew missed all the “fun”, making sure it looked like he was rebounding with that gorgeous model.

That night, Astra was too nervous about her impending final performance to wait up for Andrew to get back to the Palace. She could go to bed early or never at all. She drank some tea laced with a little bit of melatonin and fell asleep soon after dinner.

She woke up in Andrew’s arms, her cheek pressed to the side of his bare chest. She listened to him breathe deeply and evenly for a little while and tried one last time.

She could quit dancing.

She could leave Illéa forever.

She could raise her children to be heirs.

Her children could raise their children to be heirs.

When she died, her bones could be interred in a big old church.

Her whole life could be that easy.

God, it would be so easy.

“Andy?” she whispered.

He didn’t stir.

“Andrew?” she tried again, this time pulling away from him and sitting up in bed.

He didn’t hear her, but he reacted to the loss of her warmth, and eventually his heavy eyelids fluttered open. “Astra?”

“What time did you get in last night?”

“This morning.” He admitted, yawning widely. “I expect the tabloids will be plastered with headlines about their debaucherous future king today.”

“Was it any fun?”

“Yeah. Ellie’s great; she’s always happy to be photographed on my arm. Missed you, though.” he added, as if suddenly awake enough to worry that she was jealous.

She wasn’t the slightest bit jealous. Well, the slightest bit, but not for the reasons he would assume. Astra was jealous because Ellie could keep being photographed on Andrew’s arm for as long as she pleased, with no consequences.

“Maybe you should marry Ellie.” Astra suggested.

Andrew laughed, and it turned into a yawn. Then he explained, “Ellie’s too focused on her career right now. And anyway, she’d be far more interested in you.”

“Now that would be a tabloid headline.” Astra joked weakly.

“What’s the matter? Are you nervous for your performance? Is it because you’re leaving England this time tomorrow? Is it because you told your parents what’s been happening between us—“

“I’m not nervous.” Astra said, even though her stomach was in knots. Those weren’t nerves. That was grief. “Andy… I want to be a ballet dancer.”

Andrew sat up in bed now and rubbed the sleep from his eyes so he could focus on her. The words were familiar, but her tone was alarming. “Of course you do. You are a ballet dancer, and you’re bloody brilliant.”

“I want to be a prima ballerina.”

“Okay.”

“That sort of excellence takes years to achieve.”

“Good job you’ve been dancing since you were four years old, then.”

“Shh.” she pressed a finger to his lips so that he would stop talking back and listen to her. He complied. “I won’t be ready to be a prima for seven or eight years. I have a lot to learn. And when I’m ready, I want to be a Prima Ballerina for at least one season, maybe two. That’s every waking hour devoted to dance for two years straight. Then I want to live in Angeles and stay close to Addy in the first few years of her reign. I want to be there when she gets married and has babies, because she is great at putting on a brave face and absolutely terrible at processing the emotions that are scaring her into needing to be brave. She’s going to need me, and I’m excited to be there for her. I can’t live on a different continent than my dad. There can’t such a huge time difference between me and my mom. I can’t be a foreign queen. I don’t want to be foreign at all. Andrew… I can’t marry you.” Her cheeks were wet and her voice cracked, but she didn’t know when, in that little breathless tirade, she’d started crying.

Andrew stared blankly ahead, hugging his knees to his chest around their blanket. He didn’t look surprised. He’d known she was too good to be true all along. Finding his queen could never have been so easy, so perfect. He shouldn’t have gotten his hopes up.

“Andy, none of those reasons I gave have anything to do with you. I love you. You’re a good man, and a great partner, and you have no business being such a talented kisser when you’re so handsome. It’s overkill.” she waited for him to smile. She waited for him to do anything. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Andrew. I just can’t marry you. I’m eighteen years old, I just got control of my life. I’m not ready to sign it over to a monarchy. I would love to be your wife, Andy, but I would hate to be your queen.”

Andrew blinked hard, then looked over at her. His voice was too casual, his words were too easy when he said, “I understand entirely. I can wait.”

Astra furrowed her brow, trying to hold his far off gaze. “Wait? What do you mean, wait?”

“You want to be a prima ballerina, and you said it would take you nine or ten years to accomplish your goal. Fine. I will wait, and when you’re ready I’ll ask to marry you.”

“No, Andy—“

“I don’t mind ruling on my own for a while.”

“That’s more than a while! You’ll be king in four years—“

“It isn’t a problem.” he insisted.

“Did you hear the part about what I want to do after I retire? About living in Illéa, about staying close to my family?”

“Astra, once we’re married, you can do whatever you like.”

“But queens have responsibilities.”

“We can redefine the role to mean whatever you’d like it to mean. I don’t care. I love you, Astra, and you’re the best future queen I could ever hope for.”

Astra paused, blinking hard against the tears in her eyes. It hurt to hear him say that. It hurt to realize that he didn’t believe he deserved any better. “Andy, that’s not true. You deserve a wife who will stay by your side. You deserve a wife who adores you and would be willing to sacrifice her own ambitions to serve England. I’m not good enough to be your queen.”

“Then no one ever will be.”

“Andrew—“

“Let me wait for you, Astra, please.” His voice broke on that last work, his eyes finally meeting hers and betraying his anguish. “Let me hope. It’s all that I have left.”

Astra couldn’t figure out what would be crueler, to let him hope when she’d made up her mind, or to take that hopeless hope away from him.

So she wrapped him up in her arms and they laid down. She combed her fingers through his hair and he brushed his thumb against her ribs until her alarm clock rang and her last day in London began.

***

In retrospect, Astra should have chosen a happy, upbeat, peppy song for her exhibition. She could have flounced all over the stage and spun a ridiculous number of times on her toes, and allowed her partner to toss her all over the place with an enormous smile on her face.

Instead, she’d chosen an exhibition from a ballet about a woman mourning her dead lover, dancing with his ghost. She’d been thinking of Kile when she’d chosen it, hoping it would help her work out her feelings about their doomed childhood romance. Now she was about to take the stage of the royal ballet, with Andrew and his parents in the royal box, watching her close enough that she could see the pained look on Andrew’s face as clear as anything.

Astra and her dance partner, Geoffrey, took their place while the stage was lit in nothing but the darkest of blue lights. He laid down across on their only set piece, an enormous fake rock, and Astra settled over him in a dramatic pose of despair, arm flung over her forehead.

The first part of the dance was hers alone. Her grief, her agony, her desperation. None of it was fake. When Geoffrey arose, as a ghost, and began dancing with her, the bittersweet mixture of joy and sorrow was easy to tap into. Nothing brought her more joy than dancing, and nothing brought her more sorrow in that moment than Andrew watching her live the life she’d chosen over him.

When Geoffrey faded back into the fog upstage and left Astra alone again in the center of the stage, all the passion and desperation fled with him. The rest of the dance was small and slow, painfully precise movements timed with the orchestra just so that if she made the slightest misstep, it would be immediately, embarrassingly obvious.

But Astra did not have to fake the exhaustion and resignation her character was feeling. If she allowed herself to second guess her decision to break away from Andrew now, she’d second guess it forever. The roar of the audience as the last tremulous notes from the string section died away seemed to make a deafening contrast.

Astra was surprised to find tears had started pouring down her cheeks somewhere during that performance. Geoffrey returned and took her hand, and they bowed. As was customary for this exhibition, several members of the audience threw flowers onto the stage. From the third row, Astra’s dad threw a whole bouquet, and a little teddy bear. Astra laughed as she wiped the tears from her cheeks. Then she turned to the royal box to curtsey, perfectly observing royal protocol, and was startled to find that Andrew had been crying, too.

He tossed her a single white rose with a beautiful red satin ribbon tied around the stem, but the look on his face was resignation. He could love her with all of his heart for all of his life and still never be able to give her the kind of affirmation she got from a packed theater full of an adoring audience. He’d seen her dance dozens of times in her room at her little palace, and hell, he’d even danced with her himself. But seeing her like this in front of them…

He could wait until the oceans ran dry and the mountains fell flat, and every single star in the sky flickered into darkness… Astra was never coming back to him.

Astra spent that night with her parents, letting them gush over her and spoil her with presents, and help her pack up the life she’d made in London for the last few months. She hoped Andrew would come and say goodbye once her parents went back to the suite they were staying in, but he never appeared, and Astra didn’t chase him down because she thought he deserved to set the terms. That dance had been her goodbye to him. It was up to him whether he wanted to say goodbye in return.

The next morning, Queen Waverly was the only one in the entrance hall waiting to see the Orders family off as they left. The English Royal jet would take them as far as Carolina, where they would visit James’ family for a little while.

Astra imagined Andrew’s private car speeding out onto the tarmac to stop them. She imagined him dashing from the backseat and waving his arms to alert the pilots that they couldn’t leave until he’d said his farewells.

He didn’t come. It was easier this way.

Kenna and James stayed with Astra’s grandparents for a few days, but James had to go back to work and Kenna needed to get back to the Palace. Aunt Ames had five children, two of them under the age of six, and though they had plenty of help in that Palace, Kenna was their primary nanny, their aunt, and she missed them like crazy.

Astra stayed with her grandparents for a couple of weeks, until her contract at the Waverly Ballet began. The media frenzy around her got much better in that time, though it was impossible not to notice that things were staying hectic around Andrew as the English tabloids seemed to catch on to how severely he’d had his heart broken.

Astra wished she could take some of that public shame away.

She wished she could take some of his pain away, even as she was mending her own broken heart. Her weeks in Carolina were good for that purpose. Her grandparents spoiled her rotten, and she gave her body a much-needed break from dancing. Instead, she spent her days learning needlepoint from her grandmother, and her nights stargazing out by the pond where her parents used to sneak off on dates before Gramma Magda gave up trying to convince Kenna to marry someone from a higher caste.

When Astra packed her bags to take the short flight up to Waverly to begin yet another new life with another new ballet company, she was still wearing the beautiful red ribbon that Andrew gave her as a parting gift on that rose, tied around her wrist.

And when, years later, she sat on her sofa and watched him become King of England in front of the entire world, her fingers traced that now slightly frayed red ribbon, Andy’s last gift to her, in a familiar, much-practiced gesture.

It would have been so easy to say yes, to give in to the pressure and let herself get swept away by the English people, the royal traditions, the prince’s staggering blue eyes. It would have been a good life, too. A perfectly fine marriage.

But Astra didn’t want to be queen, and now she wouldn’t have to be, and the freedom she felt watching Andrew bear the weight of that crown was all the reminder she needed: she made the right decision. And now, despite the dull ache of longing in her chest for he boy she’d loved and left behind, she was happy. Truly happy. She was at peace with her past, content in her present, and excited for her future.

When the coronation coverage ended, Astra got ready to return to bed. She was surprised when her phone rang, but she knew exactly who it would be.

“Mom?” she said, before the person on the other line could say a word. Her little cousins would have had just enough time to be tucked back into bed by now, if Aunt May was helping. Kenna would have rushed to the phone as soon as she got the chance.

“Sweetie? How are you, little bug?”

“I’m fine, Mom, I don’t need the pet names.” Astra grinned, rolling her eyes.

“Are you sure?” Kenna double-checked.

“Yeah. I wish Andrew wasn’t alone up there. I still love him, I don’t want him to suffer. But I was nothing but relieved when they put that crown on his head and I didn’t have to put one on mine. I made the right choice.”

“I know you did, honey, but just because you did the right thing doesn’t mean you have to feel perfectly fine about it. Especially not on a night like this.”

“Honestly, Mom… my time in London feels like another life. One I’m nothing but grateful for, but not one I want to relive.”

At first, Astra’s spring with Andrew felt like it had never really happened, or like it had happened to someone else, or like it was all a fever dream: too hot, too heady, a surreal hallucination more than a fairytale fantasy. But now, with some time and space, Astra could see it for what it really was: a romantic affair with someone she could have chosen to marry, but who ultimately was not the right fit for her. On the one hand, Astra and Andrew loved each other, and their marriage would have been fine: they’d known each other forever and they each fully understood the challenges of the royal life they would have been embarking on together.

On the other hand, Astra had known what she wanted out of life since she was a very small girl. It was a hard thing to ask an eighteen year old to walk away from a guaranteed royal wedding for a chance to work very hard to one day, possibly, make her dream come true. If Astra hadn’t grown up in Illéa Palace, she might not have made the same choice. But everything she got out of her life from now on was truly hers, she was the captain of her own fate, and even if she failed and never became a prima ballerina, at least this way she’d have had the chance.

“But Mom?”

“Hm?”

“Don’t ever tell Gramma Magda that Andrew proposed to me and I turned him down. I think she would disown me.”

[into-crazy]

horror and chill

Ledger!Joker x Female Reader one shot

Summary: You and J watch a horror flick. Eventually you both grow bored, turning your attention onto one another. You don't make it through the movie.

Warnings- Cursing, NSFW, SMUT, fingering, edging, orgasm denial, light knife play, spanking, use of the word daddy(once), unprotected sex, brief degradation, choking, light blood play, J style fluff, ages 18+

This sort of popped into my head while I was watching a scary movie. I'm a sucker for watching horror movies in the dark. Let's just say my self indulgences deff kicked in with this one whew! Also forewarning, it’s very long.

The month of October has always been a favorite for you. That time of the year when Autumn is in full effect. The air outside is cooled down, where it's not too hot and not quite cold yet. Seasonal items return with a comeback, available to stock up on- whether they be edible goodies or scented candles. Then, of course, there's Halloween. Or spooky season, as the kids like to call it.

That special time where watching horror movies is an absolute must. Ordering takeout, nothing on but panties and an oversized tee, cuddling on the couch with a blanket, turning out all of the lights, and blasting the volume on the television to get the full effect. Yeah, it's one of your most prized traditions.

You and Joker have been together for well over year now. Let's just say he was around this time last year. He knew of your passion for this month, but he hasn't fully experienced it with you. Since that was a point where your relationship- if that's what you want to call it- was still fresh. Too early to establish complete trust and understanding in one another. Actually, you believe that still may be the case for J.

Not that you have anything against it. He's a highly complex and guarded man, he has a difficult time trusting people. In fact, he doesn't. But he's allowed you- and no one else- to come this close into his life, and it's pretty damn close. He trusts you enough and he's trying. There's nothing you'd ever do to betray that. You've come to accept it'll take a longer period before you'd get there fully.

Though it can be rough sometimes, you've had your fair share of fights. But he's never given you a reason to leave. You trust him, you've grown to love him. And while J would never confess to it, would never say it aloud, he adores you. He shows it in everything that he does for you. As for love, you've become aware and accepted that the word doesn't apply to him. He can't love. And that's okay.

Fast forward over to now, already a week into October. It's a Saturday night, and you're ready to continue your cherished routine, but with your beloved J. You've only watched two horror flicks thus far. Both nights had been alone, minus him and the takeout. He's been busy with his usual chaotic jobs, which kept him out later hours into the night. However you don't care about that right now, he called and informed you that he'll be home for tonight's showing.

"An' don't ah, don't ya dare start without me." J warned on the other end of the phone line.

"Well then you better hurry back," you playfully teased into the phone, "I already ordered the pizza and the movie is set to play."

That conversation ended about forty minutes ago. You sat on the couch in your shared apartment, waiting for him. Everything good to go, pizza has arrived, scented candles are lit, movie ready to proceed at the click of a button, and the lights are off- save for the small lamp by the entryway. The overall setting feeling eerily, just how you like it. It also feels quite romantic, which is a bonus.

You're wearing one of J's dress shirts with a blush thong underneath. Wrapped snug in a huge fluffy blanket in your designated spot(rightfully decided by you as this was your apartment first). Since he prefers to keep the apartment cold, you tend to get chilly a lot. Which was fine considering you have J and a vast selection of blankets to keep you warm. Currently, you have the blanket. All that's missing is J.

What's taking him so long? I'm gonna start the movie, I don't care. He'll just have to deal with it.. and I'm not rewinding it either.

You began to ponder while sitting in silence. Fingers tapping impatiently on the remote, debating whether or not you should carry on without him. With a loud huff, you glance over at the pizza box on the small table directly in front of you. In the amount of time you've waited, you managed to eat two slices already.

Then, you heard the familiar ruffling noise at the front door. The sound of the lock hurriedly being turned getting you to shoot your eyes towards it without moving your head. The door swings open and in walks J in all his glory, quickly shutting and locking the closure behind him.

"I'm home-ah!" A lilt in his voice as he exaggerates his arrival.

"You're late," you return displeasingly.

He narrows his glare at you, "well uh, hello to you too."

Rolling your eyes, you motion with your fingers, "I was this close to starting the movie without you. What took you so long?"

J works on shrugging off his plum trench coat. "What can I say? It was such a ah, easy breeze to get here." He throws sarcastically.

Shaking your head, you laugh, "I'm sorry J, I didn't mean to sound rude. I just missed you is all." You really do appreciate the extra efforts he goes through to make sure he gets here safe and undetected. To not be traced or followed. Be it by his fellow rivals, Gotham police, and in some cases- the Batman.

"Yeah doll, I know," he licks his lips, "I know." You watch him remove a few of his other articles to get more comfortable. His face paint isn't too disheveled which tells you his day went rather smoothly. Or as he prefers to call it- boring.

You open up the blanket to make space for him. Patting the empty spot right next to you, "hurry and get over here, pizza's getting cold."

Left in his purple slacks, dress shirt, and socks, he shuts off the last light before making his way over to plop onto the couch next to you. He allows you to snuggle against him. With the cover behind him, he doesn't feel the need to wrap himself in it. You, on the other hand, have your end burrito wrapped over you. Finally, you stick your hand out the blanket to hit play on the remote.

Twenty minutes in, you were beginning to grow less and less interested in the film. Nothing but a predictable storyline with a bunch of weak jump scares. Not to mention the overly cheesy acting. Though it wasn't completely terrible, it had a few good points to it. However this film probably won't make it onto your rewatch list. You failed to previously read the reviews for this one like you normally would when picking a new movie to watch. The plot sounded good when you had read it. Oh well, you gave it a shot.

J wasn't fond of the movie either. He's actually more bored of it than you are. Occasionally would he exhale blatantly or comment on one of the bad moments that came across. This. Is. Torture. He thought to himself staring blankly at the screen. And not the good kind. Alas, he'll bite his tongue and miserably sit through another hour because it is your movie night, and he knows how much this means to you.

You can't help but feel bad for having him sit through this with you- for you. Soon, you lost total interest in the film and your mind began to drift.. elsewhere. To his hand, resting freely between your soft thighs. His palm feels so warm against your flesh. But that's just J- always giving off heat. He's like your own personal heater. Sometimes warming you to the point you don't even need a blanket because it becomes too hot. Speaking of which, you removed the cover, preferring his signature warmth over the fabric's any day.

Your fingers start to brush lightly on his wrists and knuckles. The subtle touch earns you half smile followed with a pleased hum, which you see in your peripheral vision. He hasn't caught on yet, but your need for him is building fast.

You scooch closer to him in attempt to get his hand where you need it most without him catching on just yet. It didn't work, his hand isn't touching you. It's right there, mere millimeters away. Thinking about how amazing his hands feel when he touches you. When he grants you with friction as he rubs your throbbing clit. The wonderful spots he reaches when he relentlessly fucks you with those paint speckled fingers. Curling them deep, making you writhe and cry beneath him.

Clamping his wrist, your breath hitches at the thought. Shit. That was audible. For a split second, you thought you might have blown it. But Joker took it as something from the film frightening you.

"Quiet doll," he shushes, "you an' I both know the ah, movie ain't scary."

Fuck, you can't take it anymore. You want him to touch you. With a slight roll of your hips, you manage to get his hand to brush against your clothed heat. The smallest bit of friction causes you to release a muffled whimper.

J's arm stiffens and his face instantly snaps to look at you. You seize, halting your movement. No question, he felt what you did, sees the burning desperation in your eyes. Tossing his head back, he erupts in a delighted, high pitched cackle. "Oh-" more cackling laughter as he glances at you again, "so that's what that was." A malicious smirk spreads his scarred cheeks. He firmly grips the inside of your thigh, pulling you against him. "What happened bunny? Growin' needy?" Cupping your clothed mound, his fingers rub you teasingly.

"Yeah," you admit, taking your bottom lip between your teeth. Tightening your thighs around his wrist. Would've been no use lying to him when he'd easily seen and felt otherwise.

His rubbing comes to an abrupt stop. He taunts, "Ahh, this was your idea, hm. You were the one keen on a movie night, remember?"

"I know, but-"

"Ah-ta-ta," He cuts you off, "But nothing. This is what ya wanted, so that's what we'll do. We'll ah, sit here and watch."

Suddenly, he lifts you, effortlessly moving you into his lap. You yelp as your back is pressed flush against his torso. He separates your legs apart, you can feel his cock beginning to harden under you, pushing into the plush of your ass. One hand wraps around your chest, to roughly knead your breasts. The other slides under the shirt, gliding over your abdomen, down between your legs. To rub harsh circles on your excited clit through the thinly soaked fabric of your underwear.

"Ahh- fuck!" You whine, throwing your head back to rest on his shoulder, reaching around to grip his green locks.

J starts to kiss and nip his way down your neck. Leaving dark patches into your skin, accompanied by red and white splotches- completely marking you. Once he was satisfied with his marks, he leans closely by your ear. "You're dripping, doll," he whispers huskily, his hot breath brushing against your neck. "Now, you will sit here and watch the flick like a good girl, while I play with this needy little cunt of yours. No fussin' or fightin'. Got it?"

"Mhm, yes sir," you answer. Biting back the urge to smile at the thought of finally getting what you want. Fighting it off because, let's be real here, you know with J, it never comes along that easy. But he always makes it damn well worth it.

"Good, now sit still." He growls lowly onto your neck. With that, he pushed your panties to the side and began his torture. His fingers transitioning from fucking your aching hole to rubbing the drenched digits on your throbbing clit. Whispering twistingly sweet and dirty words into your ear while he slathers your own arousal all over your pussy.

He'd bring you close, on the verge of your orgasm, only to stop his movements entirely. Tearing it away from you before you could fall over that edge into pure ecstasy. You grew more and more frustrated each time he'd do that. Though you haven't fully, but you're rapidly losing your composure. Which already may be broken. Sweat is forming on your hairline, tears are prickling your eyes, your breath is starting to hitch. Starting to want it so bad you're teetering towards retaliating to get what you crave.

Joker's counting on it. He thrives on edging you, demands the control over you. As much as he prefers having you entirely at his mercy, he likes it when you lash back. Finds it rather amusing, makes for something a little bit more interesting. See how far you'll go before you snap so beautifully.

And that's now.

You start to buck your hips against his fingers that are going in and out of your pussy, along with his thumb assaulting your clit. Feeling that powerful knot reforming, you need to orgasm. "Oh f-fuck! Please!" You start pleading, "I-I can't take it anymore. Please J, l-let me cum!"

"You wanna cum?" He hints, removing his chin from your neck.

"Yes, God- yes please!" You cry out, clawing your nails into his thighs. Clamping down to gain better leverage. The wild rolling of your hips gets your ass brushing more against his hardened cock. Your arousal had already soaked through his pants a long time ago.

"Fuck," he hisses through gritted teeth, digging his fingers hard into your hip that's sure to leave an array of dotted bruises. He bucks absently into you, licking a wet, hot trail up your neck. "Mm, dirty girl. So you wanna play that game-ah?"

He moves his fingers faster and harder. Even over the loud volume from the television could the wet squelching sounds deriving from his ministrations be heard. The air filled with the scent of sex- your sex. So desperate and ready to let go and orgasm. It's driving you crazy.

"P-please- Ahh! Can I cum?" You plead. Hoping he'll reward you at least for asking.

"You can cum. Go on, babygirl. Cum on my fingers." He finally grants, fingers continuing to get you to ecstasy.

Well you didn't have to be told twice.

You release with a broken cry, orgasm gushing out onto his digits. Drenching the fabric of his pants beneath you. Your body spasming madly over his own while you ride out your high.

Coming down, J removed his hand from your pussy. His fingers are glistening, coated in your cum. He sticks them into your mouth. "Clean my fingers of the mess you made," he growls the command in your ear. Groaning in approval when you comply. Eagerly licking and sucking his digits clean of your juices. "Come here," he grabs your face, turning your head, making you look at him. "Give me a taste."

He kisses you, shoving his tongue into your mouth to savor the taste of your delectable juices. You kiss him back feverishly. One hand fisting in his hair, the other goes to stroke his cock. Still clothed, still hard. The action causing him to snarl against your lips, "such a greedy little thing. Always ah, wanting more. Ya just can't get enough of me, huh?"

"Never," you huff with a grin, "and telling by this-" you rub him again, "neither could you." His eyes snap to glare into yours viciously. Ohh, he's gonna make you pay for that snarky remark.

With hasty movements, J turns you around so that you're now facing him. Straddling his lap. He tears the shirt that adorned your body open, buttons flying to scatter the couch and floor. Someone's gonna have to sew those back on later, most likely you. He removes the shirt from you, carelessly tossing it aside.

With the large article gone, it granted him with a better view of the mess you made on his custom, pricey slacks. His entire crotch and thigh area is completely drenched in your juices. He gave a sigh which tried to make him sound annoyed or displeased. However, with the straining bulge pushing against you below, you know that was far from the case. His eyes traveled to land on your barley covered pussy, he groaned at the sight. The flimsy fabric of your thong sticking to one of your wonderful, wet lips. Your orgasm, still dribbling out your cunt.

He hooked a finger under the thin strap hugging your hip, pulling far enough only to have it fall and snap against you. Chuckling at your slightly startled reaction. "Bad girl. Misbehaving, talking back, making a mess of my pants? These aren't exactly 'buy at the store' ready. Maybe I should put your dirty mouth to use and have you suck your own juices up, hm?"

"I misbehaved?" You mock a pout, fully knowing what you did. Regardless, asking anyway.

His kneads the plush of your ass roughly. The callousness of his hands making you shiver in his grasp. You may think this position is in your favor, that you could use it to your advantage. But Joker's got you right where he wants you. The stern look in his blackened eyes and the firm hold he's got on you make that known. "You ah- were supposed to make it through the film without so much as a fuss. Remember that?"

"I was?" Your fingers ghost up his chest, "I don't remember that part." Now you're pushing it. He notices the smile threatening to creep your face. One of his hands shoots up to grasp a fistful of your hair, yanking your head back, exposing your marked neck.

"Yes," he acknowledges slowly trailing his lips up your throat, "yes you do. You just chose to be a brat and not listen." His tone is dangerous, and it would've been absolutely frightening had you been anyone else instead of the only person he cares about in his life. Even though he'd never verbally admit that, frustrating as it is for him, he does care. He does. Which is why whenever you feel that tingle dubbed as fear creep up your spine, you still hold assurance. The flesh of his scars brush the underside of your chin, making you moan unabashedly. "Ya know I gotta punish you for that."

J uses his hold on your hair and hip to guide you to lay over his lap, your naked stomach pressed against his wet thighs, and most of all, his erection. He reaches over to the small table beside the couch, plucking an item you assume to be one of his signature knives. The distinct clicking sound indicates you were correct. It's a switchblade.

He drags the razor sharp blade along your spine until it reaches your underwear, almost on the verge of slicing into you. The thrill gets your heart pounding faster in your chest and ears. You love it when he cuts you, and he's aware of that. But this is a punishment, so you won't be getting what you want.. least not yet. Placing it under the strap, he tears the article to shreds, carelessly nicking you a few times in the process. Alright, so the little nicks he can't control. Those just come naturally. Tossing the ruined fabric aside, he palms your ass cheeks, favoring a spot to start spanking. "Count. We'll ah, stop when I decide you've had enough."

His palm came down hard against your ass, sending an electrifying jolt through your entire body causing you to yelp. "One!" You count. The stinging grew worse with each spank. He hit you hard, but it wasn't anything you couldn't bare. Warm tears steamed down your reddened cheeks. It hurt in a wonderful way, your pussy leaking more arousal as it progressed. He continued to spank you until he grew bored of hearing the same cries and whines.

"Last one bunny," he subtly praised, soothing over the bright marks in your flesh that are starting to welt and bruise. With that, his hand came down a final time. This one stinging the worst.

"Fif- fifteen." You manage to rasp, mind overcome with the lust you had building up. At this point you need him inside you. You need his cock buried deep in your aching core and you need him now. "Please f-fuck me J. I need you!" Your body arched into his as you begged.

J snickered, "need me huh? How bad?" His hand went back to your abused ass to shove you forward, so that your pelvis was atop his as he purposely rolled his erection against your painfully heated sex. The friction drawing a long, strained moan from your lips which pleased him. "Tell me bunny. How, how bad do ya need my cock?"

"Bad- oh so fucking bad- I need your cock! P-Please J, please daddy, fuck me!" You practically shout, resorting to the word daddy. A word which you hardly use, but do when need be. And now was a time of great need.

A snarl left his lips as he yanks you off briefly to undo his pants and shove them down. His cock finally free from the uncomfortable confines, he sighs with relief as he takes it into his hand, pumping a few times. The tip, red and angry with his precum beading out. "Get over here now," he growls impatiently.

Wasting no time, you swing your leg over both of his, reclaiming your previous place of straddling him. You grabbed-rather pawed- his shoulders for leverage. His thick head lines up with your dripping entrance, then he pulls you down, driving his length inside with a powerful thrust. Knocking the wind from you as he filled you. Fuck, how he stretched you so good.

After a brief second for you both to adjust- you to his size and him to recompose himself- he instructs you to- "Move."

To which you do. Rapidly bouncing yourself up and down on his cock. Unashamed at the loud moans and whimpers continuously leaving your lips. This was exactly what you needed, and having been denied lots tonight it felt amazing to finally have this. You moved like your life depended on it.

J grunted as he met your thrusts with his languid ones, his hands guiding the movement of your hips. He held back from pounding into you, oh how he's going to pound into you, just not yet. Which means he's definitely in the mood to tease you to an extent, in any and every way that he can. What an asshole.. Your asshole.

Your arms went to wrap around him. To your surprise, he didn't shove them off. Instead, his chin went to rest in the crook of your neck, catching glimpse of the illuminated TV screen. The movie was still on.

"Mhm, you're just a horny little slut, aren't ya?" He sneered. "Can't even get through a movie without having my cock inside of ya."

There was no way you could give him a proper response. So wrapped were you in the exhilarating feeling of him that any words to a sentence you tried to form wouldn't come out. What did manage to slip out was muddled babbling. He snickered at your incoherence.

The female protagonist on the screen started to scream. The shrieking noise caught both your attention, though your actions didn't falter. "This woman's a terrible actor," J criticized the lady, "her scream is so fake, wouldn't you agree?"

"Yes- ah," you return finding your voice, "It s-sure is."

He removed one hand from your hip, gliding it up the valley between your breasts to grip your neck. Glaring menacingly into your eyes momentarily before muttering, "I think you could give me a better one." You knew from his low tone that something malicious just popped into his head. His fingers tightened, "Let's see if you could scream louder than the girl on the screen. Can ya do that for me sweets?"

You nodded feverishly within his hold, "yes J."

Satisfied with the answer, he began driving his cock vigorously up into you. The harsh slapping of skin heard as his hips pound mercilessly against your own. The spontaneous change of pace left you almost completely breathless. Your orgasm was fast approaching. Eyes squeezing shut as he fucked you relentlessly. You screamed, "Oh fuck!"

Your beautiful screams rang harmoniously in his ears like a favored tune. That he could play on repeat over and over and never grow tired of hearing. Your screams and moans are definitely his favorite sounds, aside from explosions and gunfire. He can't help but want more. Crave more.

"Come on doll, get louder," he teases, "I know ya could do better than that." He went to tug your head to the side, exposing the junction between your neck and shoulder. Sinking his yellowed teeth in, biting down hard to draw blood. That was just the push you needed. Your eyes roll back and your walls clench tightly around his length, releasing a shattering scream as you cum violently around his cock.

J lapped the fresh blood from where he bit you. "Hm, that's it," he groaned, "now that's a real scream." He kept going, his pace never letting up. In fact, soon as your hands went to tug at his hair did his thrusts speed up.

You yank his head from your neck to look into his intoxicating eyes, moving to glance towards your blood on his lips. Crashing them with yours to taste that savory metallic flavor for yourself. You take his bottom lip between your teeth and bite down harshly, earning a rumbling groan from him.

He's getting closer and closer to his own peak as you're nearing another. When you feel his thumb move to rub rigorous circles on your sensitive clit, you release his lip with a sharp cry. "J!"

Your walls clamping painfully tight around his throbbing dick, vision blurring as you cum. Nails digging into his broad chest, probably creating tiny bruises under the shirt.

He relishes in the pinch of pain you give him. Combined together with your sinful noises, the sight of your face contorted in ecstasy, and the feeling of your tight warm walls. With that, he buries himself in you and cums hard. A moan mixed with a groan like noise slipping from his lips while he shoots his hot load into your cervix. So much, that some leaks out while you milk him of every last drop.

J collects his breath before lifting your weight up to slip out of you. Your pussy lips are so swollen that his cum isn't even able to drip down once he's out. He sets you onto the couch beside him, getting up to go into the restroom to clean himself and grab a damp rag to bring back to you.

As you regain yourself, you manage to sit a little more up on the couch. Wincing, trying not to sit up all the way due to the soreness already starting to form between your legs. You wrap the blanket around your naked form and silently contemplate. The sex was amazing sure, but you still felt bad for ruining movie night with a terrible movie.

The sound of J coming back in hadn't even registered with you until he waved his hand in your view, tearing you from your thoughts. You blink quickly, offering him a smile to hide it. But J had already seen the small frown when he walked back. And he wanted to know the reason behind it, since it was out of the ordinary. Usually you're always smiling in your post orgasmic state.

"What's carving a frown in ya, pumpkin?" He asks, a hint of concern in his tone as he hands you the small towel. The strange nickname causes you to giggle and he eases knowing you're alright.

"It's nothing J," you say shyly, "I'm just.. I'm sorry the movie sucked. I promise I'll pick a better one next time."

He hums, saying nothing else as he sits back down beside you. Draping his arm behind the couch behind you. Blankly watching the last of the movies end credits while you clean yourself with the rag.

You start to laugh again, "Well, now I really wanna carve a pumpkin. This place could use a couple. How about tomorrow I get some for us to carve?"

He grins sinisterly, "ya know, I'm usually carving into people."

"Pumpkins are less messy. Like, way less." You playfully respond.

"I like messy," he huffs.

"Yeah I know you do." You smile knowingly at him, lightly tracing the hexagonal patterns on his shirt. "I thought it would be fun. You don't have to if you don't want to."

J licks his scars as he ponders on it. Any activity having to do with a carving into something with a knife, count him in. "Ah, what the hell. Alright. What better way then to uh, help me spruce up on my slicing skills." He traces his hand out in front of him, as if he were carving a smile into something. This action causes you to release a genuine laugh. And in that moment, J relishes in hearing yet another one of his favorite sounds~

Woah, so that's the end! I hope you guys liked it. Again, sorry that it was so long. I can't help but make these super lengthy when it comes to smut😭

[katnissmellarkkk]

Okay, onto my liveblog for chapter two of The Hunger Games :

Katniss’ flashback to falling out of a tree and being unable to breathe is such a good analogy, I steal it all the time in my own fics.

I wish the boy who held her up so she didn’t fall was given a name? Katniss just can’t provide names very easily, can she? 😅

“The odds had been entirely in her favor. But it hadn’t mattered” is actually an amazing quotable moment, someone make an edit pronto 👏

No one’s happy when a twelve year old is chosen but ya know. As soon as that kid turns thirteen, off with them! Fair game! 😭😂😅🙃

Hmmm how many of these kids knew immediately Katniss would volunteer for her sister? The way there was a boy ready to catch her before she fell and the way they all just cleared a path for her...

Katniss’ love for Prim had to be prominent because the other kids all seemed to be aware she would volunteer and Katniss claims this is a completely radical, unheard of thing to do. Sooo yeah. Her school peers probably noticed her a lot more than she realized.

Ooo. I just noticed the word choice in “district twelve hasn’t had a volunteer in decades”

Was there a point in time when Twelve had volunteers?

Awww the mayor being sad that Katniss is probably gonna die because he knows her as Madge’s friend 😭😩🤧.

Awww Katniss got presented a medal when her father died, I forgot 🥺🥺🥺

“Bet my buttons” is the worst phrase in history 🤨😐🤭

I like that Katniss’ dead father still has a reputation around these parts 🤧

Helps my fic writing brain to clock it for future reference

Maybe I’m just not nice but I don’t see how Prim is so wonderful that no one can help but love her. Like idk. I feel like this is just Katniss’ bias leaking through. Which is fine it’s better than some clinically detached narrator I hate those FYI

Omg everyone is saluting Katniss and she’s realizing people adore her 🥰🥰

Also ... does this mean Peeta did the three finger salute to her just before being called himself? Idk random thoughts, ignore me.

Katniss is in danger of crying. If this was me, I’d just be sobbing on the ground already.

Haymitch , the og rebel. Looking right into the cameras and calling the Capitol out.

Also ironic how the first thing Haymitch says to / about Katniss is “I like her!” when he spends the rest of the series pretending he, in fact, does not.

“Oh no, not him” is such a love interest introduction, y’all. Gale never stood a chance.

I like how Katniss considers it bad luck for her that Peeta was called 😅. Like... already taking ownership of the boy, sweetheart?

I feel like this is a good time to remind people that medium height is like 5’10. Stop headcanoning Peeta short. Poor Joshy though.

I like how she has never spoken to Peeta but describes the way his hair falls in waves over his forehead 😭🤧

Seems like Katniss thinks Peeta took being called relatively well.

“He has two older brothers, I know, I’ve seen them in the bakery” why is she already trying to defend herself to the audience like “I wasn’t really paying any attention to Peeta Mellark I just happened to notice he had brothers because I saw them once okay?”

Omg Katniss just outright asserting that Peeta’s middle brother definitively won’t volunteer for him. Girl, you just said you don’t know him or his family 😅😅😅.

“Why him?” Still has such a destined, soulmates feel to it. I know they weren’t destined and that’s what a lot of people admire about their relationship but the writing here has always had such a “this guy right here is her soulmate” slant to it, I’m sorry.

“He’s probably forgotten our only interaction. But I haven’t. And I know I never will.” Still continuing with the soulmate-y narration here, Suz Suz, I see.

Oh my god I don’t even remember this line but it’s so sad 🥺🥺🥺🥺🤧🤧🤧🤧🤧🤧🤧🤧😩😩😩😩😩

“The numbness of his loss had passed, and the pain would hit me out of nowhere, doubling me over, racking my body with sobs. ‘Where are you?’ I would cry out in my mind. ‘Where have you gone?’”

I’m so sad now. 😭😭😭

I like that Katniss said “no amount of pleading from Prim” would affect her mother’s depression, as if Katniss easily believes that her own pleas don’t matter but her sister’s are what’s impossible to ignore.

She really needs to stop putting Primmy on this pedestal though it’s not as cute the second or third read around.

“I suppose now that my mother was locked in some dark world of sadness, but at the time, all I knew was that I had lost not only a father, but a mother as well.” I feel like this is just criminally undiscussed. Katniss didn’t know or understand or grasp what depression even was. Like it’s hard enough for kids to forgive parents who abandon them to mental illness when they’re aware what mental illness is. Let alone if you’re just stuck for months / years, not knowing that your mother was sick, instead thinking she just stopped caring for you.

Omg Katniss saying she couldn’t let Prim go to a community home 🤧. Selfless of her. But also sister worry about yourself.

I’m just kidding, I know it’s her character to only be concerned with her little sister above all else.

Mr. Everdeen hating how coal dust settled on everything in the Seam is such a small but interesting detail.

Omg so the meadow is a common place to find corpses of those who starved to death? We maybe should stop romanticizing it.

I like that Mr. Everdeen took Katniss places with him but was like “Hmm, imma leave Prim home, she isn’t cut out for the hunting life”

Idk Katniss being too afraid and shy to go to the Hob without her dad is such a little kid thing though.

Katniss explaining that she was essentially in the merchants backyard

She was essentially dying in Peeta’s backyard 🤧

Wow, I forgot how blatantly violent Peeta’s mother was

Maybe it’s just Katniss’ perspective but every interaction is just her screaming

Aww, his mother called him a stupid creature, why don’t I remember this.

This is so sad omg.

Poor both of them.

One’s starving to death, the other’s utterly abused mentally, verbally and physically.

What’s a weal?

I always read that word as a welt.

Ok I googled it, it’s a big red swollen mark.

So same thing.

Omg now Katniss is saying Mrs. Mellark hit him with an object weapon. This just keeps getting more and more.... sad.

Honestly I haven’t read the books cover to cover since I was a teenager, some of this is a surprise to me.

I always wondered though how that bread was any good, it literally fell onto the wet ground. 😟🤢

Aww, Katniss saying Peeta would get a full beat down if discovered that he burned the breads to feed her 🥵🥵🥵

Okay but if his mother hit him with an object and his eye swoll up and blackened the next day, that could be another reason why he tossed the bread in her general direction and didn’t look at her. I know it was so he wouldn’t be caught by his mother but also he probably couldn’t even see clearly where she was.

The dandelion symbolism 🤧😅😭🥳

Her sarcasm 🤣🤣🤣

Katniss just keeps comparing Peeta to the loaves of bread 😅😅😅

Also she keeps calling him warm and solid and steady

I’m starting to think unconsciously she was already finding herself attracted to him even here.

Him squeezing her hand reassuringly and her chalking it up to a nervous spasm 🙃

I hope when they got married they got a nice screencap of this shot of them on TV facing the crowd, shaking hands.

Make a nice anniversary photo.

Okay, that’s all for my thoughts on chapter two! 🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳

[cyberdva]

take me home- b.c.

Summary: Staying with Stray Kids over the holidays via the first-hand invitation from Chan sounded like the perfect vision. When New Years’ roles around tension grew, in the coming days you’d have to leave and someone needed to confess the secret scratching at his core for years on end. With a little plan from your best friend’s bandmates, this new year would be one to remember forever.

Warnings: Cursing, Mentions of Anxiety, and a Makeout Scene

Word Count: 2.3k

Stray Kids Masterlist

Main Masterlist

A/N: (Gender Neutral Reader!!)  hey everyone! it’s sort of a tradition for me to write a short little fic for new years. this time i chose to write about chan since he’s turned my life around and brought so much positive change into my life. i’m forever grateful to him and stray kids. thank you for reading all of my sappy drama. life is going to get better!

Being away from the same place you’d called home for the past who knows long felt strange. Don’t get me wrong, it was a major relief to be able to roam around a different area after the entire world was basically held captive in their own minds for the better. Having a second family in the form of an idol group, led by the most talented person you could think of, gave an excuse to seek refuge in their dorms, but this time they nearly begged for your presence for just a few days. Listening to Felix and Seungmin plead over the phone, ironic desperation laced in their tone, for a month and a half took a white flag waving on your behalf. Putting eight celebrities, and countless others, in the possibility of danger was the glue holding you back. Nights of pondering aimlessly always led to the same conclusion. Staying and going was a bitter conflict. Flabbergasted by all the trouble you got yourself into, the thought of leaving was a knee-jerk reaction. Either Felix and Seungmin got their way or the other way around, and if an agreement couldn’t be reached a full-on melancholy would forge in its place.

“Y/N…” Chan’s voice faded in and out with vigor, a perfect speech was freshly prepped in his mind wanting nothing but to have you here with him next week, “I have a question. You have to listen to the whole thing until you answer, okay?” His teeth grazed a chunk of flesh dragging in backwards in anticipation. 

“I’ll come visit.” There was a cold breeze, lacing the darkness with foreign excitement, a feeling you had last had back in freshman year when Chris came home to visit you  Training was the main priority for him, his young mind opened up the new group his company yearned to produce. Either lead a normal childhood or give the future its star-studded path. It hurt to see him go, more than anything had before, but when your bedroom door slowly creaked open it was worth the wait. Chan still remembers how you hugged him, tightly with so much emotion, it made him come to terms with the feeling brewing in his own mind. Truly cliché, but the way butterflies bubbled in his stomach and hands shook like leaves on a palm tree stuck in a brawny gust gave him desires which laid discrete too prolonged. Your response ignited that same lust, Chan’s voice hitched in between the words collapsing from his delicate lips. It brought a stunted tint to your cheeks, a rare occurrence in general. 

The man’s eyes fluttered in amazement, “Y-You’re serious, not joking right?” Fingertips grazed the dew buttons nearing the edge of his phone, mimicking his posture at the moment.

“Do I not sound serious?” A puff of humor fell from your mouth, “Just make sure I don’t regret it, I’ll text you tomorrow Chrissy.” Left in his own bewilderment, it only had now begun to register the weight of the situation. His only lover, one-sided in his wit, of a near lifetime, was coming just for him, and his annoying ‘children.’ 

“I fucking hate that nickname.” 

“Are you even old enough to have alcohol?” Buzzing with anticipation, the young woman dashed past an elated Minho forcefully dancing with Hyunjin, who looked about to pass out from drained practice from earlier on. Your hands clutched onto a champagne bottle, it still has a hint of frost to the touch. Jeongin flashed her a pout and gave swift retaliation, “It’s not for me! Hannie told me to open it for all of us!” His long fingers snatched it right back into his possession. 

Changbin laid motionless on the couch, "It’s five minutes until midnight! Seungmin could you go grab Chan, I have no clue where he is.” A nod came from the other man, his footsteps faded in a quick manner. The aura swelled cheer through every inch of your body, it has been so long since you’d last experienced such an amazing weekend with the ardent people. Something did feel off, and everyone noticed. Chan just wasn’t as sociable, his time was mostly spent scrambling on his phone or just in utter silence. 

An abnormal amount of time passed and Seungmin was nowhere to be found. Your legs cracked a bit as you stood up, your mission was to now find that man-child if it was the last thing you did. Nerves jittered across your arms and wrists, it lingered in the small crevasses between tight joints. You were in love with Christopher Bang and this moment was the same as any other with him, but that sentence never fully processed in your mind. Instead doubts about confessions replayed constantly, it was an anxiety pressed down to the base of your concerns, yet it still bobbed for attention every now and again. 

“You alright?” Placing your body against the hard doorframe of Chan’s room wasn’t the brightest idea. A hard chunk of metal pressed directly into your thigh making this conversation more awkward to begin with. Chris was at a small wooden desk, still working his creativity to death, even during a celebration. His large, slick headphones fortunately didn’t block out the sound of your tender voice. It came as a surprise to him, normally Chan wasn’t this jumpy. Even a small amount of embarrassment tainted the normally confident persona of himself. He quickly spun around and tilted his head in recognition, silently motioning you to speak. 

Moving from the uncomfortable stance you continued, "You’ve been acting really weird lately. You know you can talk to me about anything. I’ll always be here for you no matter what.” Scanning his face for any reaction probably made things a bit worse, his posture caved in on itself and you couldn’t help feeling bad for possibly brining up something he clearly didn’t want to talk about. For the one moment he looked up at you it brought pang of guilt over your chest. 

A sigh escaped you unconsciously, “Sorry if I made you upset or anything, I’ll let you work some more, but at least get some rest later.” Chan shook his hands in retaliation as you spoke, slowly getting up from his seat as he did.

“I don’t know how to say this,” his eyes darted every which way except for you, “I should’ve told you a lot earlier and I regret not doing that and shit, but just listen to me.” You slowly bobbed your head up in down in a confused likeness. He radiated uneasiness in an odd, eager way. The silence between each sentence ate away at your mind. 

He reached out for your wrist, slowly moving it up waiting for consent, “Y/N, we’ve known each other for a really long time and ever since second grade I’ve…” he stopped. Now your agitation grew, what was he even talking about? His breathing staggered, “I’ve had like the biggest crush on you.” Did I just hear that right? A wave of panic took control over the two of you.Still yet to response, and react fot that matter, to what Chan said it made him start to plung into some sort of hysteria. 

Finally words pieced themselves together, “You’re in love with me?” He nodded, “Why didn’t you say anything.” When Chris would say he was shy you never thought it was to that extent. Imagining how hard that must’ve been to conceal wasn’t that difficult, your feeling for the man definitely were the exact same. Back in high school all your friends would be graced to hear your stories about how Chan is so hot, how much you miss him, how you’re going to marry him, and more and more. It was tough to never see him in person, it stung when you would call him in the rare date he was allowed to. 

“I like you too, ever since first grade for me.” His spirit turned into the complete opposite of before, now with a crimson shade of disbelief painted across his lug, “Your ears are red.” You laughed, his hands reached to tuck his hair back over the spectacle. 

“What do we do now?” The question floated in the air with the intensity of the conversation peeling away. Neither adult fully understood what was happening. The importance of their relationship crumbled away with small banter and painful jokes.

A bright idea formulated in your mind, “We could kiss.” Chris blankly took in what you said and graced a devious smile, “I like that idea.” Chan grabbed your waist and snatched you closer to his body, which was strangely warm. Not like you were complaining. Brushing a few obscure hairs away from your face he peered extensively at your stunning features, taking them all in. It wasn't long until Chan smashed his lips into your own and you eagerly returned the kiss.

For the next few minutes the two were engulfed in a kiss, making the whole room sway and trip over its own feet. Your grip on him became tighter and you locked your fingers together at his back, making sure you wouldn't lose him. After a few more minutes Chan began to push his lips to your neck, making sure to explore every inch of your skin with his tongue. You giggled and clutched him closer. Your lips caressed his chin and his neck, kissing every inch of them and playing with his eyelashes. Chan opened his mouth to kiss your neck but you put a finger on his lips, but he kept going. You heard footsteps coming closer even with the small noises coming from the older one. 

“I found him…” Seungmin walked right through the open door and adjusted to the scene in front of him, “Ew!” his face contorted into a disgusted look, “I found Y/N too.” Now that your expected make out session was confirmed, the rest of the boys peaked down the hallway with oddly happy faces. Chan was beet-red and began muttering quick apologies under his breath. Adorning a beaming smile you took his hand and guided Chan back to the rest of the group, “You talk too much, but that’s why I love you.” 

“Love me? Well, um I love you too.. I have for a really long time.” Your heart swelled from his cumbersome behavior, he really never changed much from his youth. With that said your cheeks flushed and a broad smile spread across your face, as your entire body flushed from head to toe. The boy had a way of making your cheeks do a very special kind of glow. With only a minute and a half on the clock it was awfully laid back. Normally people go all out on New Years, but everyone just wanted this one to end as quickly as possible. Spaced away from his large crew you noticed that there was a rather large difference in Chan’s mind and the way he acted. In front of his members there was a much more dominant manner to his actions. He really cared about them, luck was the only way to describe how you felt about knowing him so personally. 

Felix was the most thrilled of the bunch, "Twenty seconds left!” He bounced up and down with his grin growing wider than before. Whenever Felix was around the atmosphere automatically lit up. He just has that special feeling to him. While you flashed backed into your mind thinking about random anomalies Chan was gazing at you with piercing eyes and when you threw a glance back at him, he stayed still. Out of the blue, grabbing your hands and holding it tight.

“Ten!” This didn’t feel wrong, nor right, never in a million years did you think your childhood best friend would keep the same feelings for you tucked away. Trying to fill that void with one night stands, relationships that never ended well, and even distancing yourself from Chris wasn’t ever the answer you thought it was.

“Nine!” He was hidden in plain sight, could you be labeled the fool in all of this? Really Chris could too, it took so long to face the truth.”

“Eight!” Putting his career on the line is the next discussion, if fans or media found out about the two of you his contract could be terminated. The hate he faces already is too much, you would never want to hurt him.

“Seven!” The harmonic combination of everyone’s chants was relaxing, calming the storm of thousands of ‘What if..’ questions piling from your brain.

“Can I kiss you?” Chris was now right by your ear, burning straight into your sight. You jerked your body back in reflex, not expecting him to be so close.

“Six!” 

“What do you mean?” It was obvious, your mind felt as if it was short circuiting. This was not the first idea that popped into your head when you decided to come visit.

“Five!”

“Yes or no, hurry up.” From the tone of his voice you could tell he was dead serious. Time was running out.

“Four! Three!”

“Uh sure..” You swore a small sparkle in his eyes glistened at the response, his entire face lighting up. 

“Two!” Chris leaned closer, grabbing your chin delicately. His finger stroked the sides of your chin as his lips filled the gap and connected with yours. His lips were firm but soft and somehow you felt safe in his embrace. The kiss was soft and feather light. It lasted for maybe a couple of seconds before Chris pulled back. Your lips were still slightly swollen and her lips felt like they were on fire. You breathed slowly and opened your eyes to find him gazing at you.

"That was... good," you said a bit dazed.

He gave you a half-grin. "You're a natural." Your face broke out into a full smile still trying to wrap your head around all of this. 

“Do you mind?” Did everyone see that? Slowly your head turned to face the apparent audience all giving different reactions.”

“Minho, why don’t you kiss me like that?”

“Shut up Jisung.” Maybe this year won’t be so bad after all. 

-

-

-

“One day i’m going to marry you!”

“Chris were only like twelve, you’re going to find someone a lot better one day.”

“I don’t think i’ll ever find anyone as perfect as you.”

“Stop it!”

“I’m serious! I love you Y/N! Forever!”

“Love you too Chrissy, hurry up before we’re late for your swim practice!”

cyberdva 2021

[mermaidxatxheart]

A Beautiful Lie

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 12k

Warnings: This one is rough, guys. Trauma, torture, blackmail, Bucky being dangerously charming. If torture isn’t for you, please don’t read. 

Prompt: The truth is, I was only using you. (will be in bold)

Summary: You’re forced to do something terrible, something you would give your soul not to have to do. 

A/N: Y’all, it’s been a hot minute since I posted anything, almost all year. I’ve really been struggling to find the inspiration to write and I really appreciate everyone who has stuck with me and followed me through this dry spell. Hopefully, I’m reaching the end of it. This is for @coffee-with-bucky‘s 2k writing challenge. I am beyond late, and I am so very sorry. Congratulations on your milestone, and I hope you reach many more. 

“You didn’t have to walk me home, Bucky. It’s in the complete opposite direction of where you need to be.” You tell him as he dutifully walks you up the steps to your apartment building. 

 “Are you kidding? My mother would be rolling in her grave if I let my date walk home by herself. She raised me better than that.” He defends, raising a big hand to his chest. “And I’m right where I need to be, making sure my girl gets home safe.” He nudges your arm playfully. “Besides, I get to spend more time with you this way.”

 “Those are all very good points.”

 He pulls open the heavy door for you and you step inside. You’ve only been dating Bucky a couple of months, but so far, he’s the most amazing person you’ve ever met. Old world charm without being a creepy serial killer; a gentleman without assuming you need to give him something in return. 

 It’s nice to be doted on just because. 

 He pushes the button for your floor and watches the numbers. You watch him. His long eyelashes, his perfectly sculpted profile, strong jaw, pouty lips. They twitch at the corners, but he doesn’t take his eyes off the numbers. The creaking of the elevator stretches out the silence as it descends. 

 “You’re staring.” He points out. 

 “Am I? Oops.” You shrug, still looking at him.

 “Do I have something on my face?” He sighs.

 “Why does there have to be anything wrong? Maybe I’m just watching so you don’t disappear.” You turn to face him.

 Slowly, he twists his head to look at you, a frown tugging at his mouth now. “Disappear? And where exactly would I go?” 

 “Wherever it is that perfect men go when the dream ends.” You lean against him with a smile. 

 “Y/N, I’m far from perfect.” He shakes his head and you capture his face in your hands, having to rise up on your tiptoes. 

 “You have been everything I could have ever wished for. You’re perfect for me.”

 He dips forward to kiss you softly and the doors ding open. He wraps his big arms around you and lifts you up, carrying you into the small box. You yelp in surprise and cling to his shoulders. He grins and sets you back against the wall, leaning down to kiss you again. 

 He’s soft. So very soft and gentle with you. The cool metal of his left hand brushes down your cheek and his eyes search yours, the smile on his face growing with each passing second. 

 “What?” You ask quietly. “Do I have something on my face?”

 He laughs quietly. “You’re beautiful.” He shakes his head. “No, I was just thinking about something.” He says so casually. 

 “Care to share with the class, Barnes?” You tease. 

 “Well, I was just thinking that I love you.” He says, turning around to face the doors. 

 Your heart tumbles in your chest as you look at his shit eating grin. “You do?” 

 “Why wouldn’t I? You’re perfect for me.” He shrugs and you smack his arm. He laughs, capturing your hand and bringing it to his lips.

 “I love you, too.” 

 He pulls you against him and picks you up, kissing you hungrily. You rake your fingers through his hair, moving with him in perfect harmony. 

 The doors open on your floor and he carries you out and down the hallway, stopping just outside your door. He kisses down your neck and you tip your head back, breathing heavily. He presses you against the wall, finding all your sensitive spots. You let out a breathy moan and he pulls away with a small chuckle. 

 “Do you want to come in?” You ask as he sets you back down on wobbly legs. 

 “I think one milestone is enough for tonight.” He smiles, brushing your hair back behind your ears. 

 “Nope, not enough.” You shake your head. He has you in a state of frenzy now. 

 He grins. “Another time.” He promises. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

 He waits until you’re inside your apartment to leave. But that’s when you could have used him the most. 

 Hands grab you from behind, a strong arm curling around your waist and the other covering your mouth. You still scream, try to wriggle out of the strong hold they have on you. But it’s no good. A large figure clad in all black appears in front of you, arm raised and then everything goes black.

 ***

 The aroma of delicious smelling food wafts through the entire building. It permeates into every room and causes several heads to poke out their doors. You smile sheepishly, knocking on Bucky’s door. 

 He pulls it open, sweat pants low on his hips as he towels his hair dry. “Y/N.” He says in surprise. 

 “I thought you might be hungry.” You hold up the bags of takeout. “But I didn’t know what you liked, so I got some of everything.”

 “Did I hear there was extra food?” A voice says behind you and Bucky groans with a roll of his eyes. 

 “No one invited you, Wilson. Go away.” 

 “No, it’s okay, Bucky. Honestly, there’s so much-we can share.” You smile back at his friend. 

 Inside, your stomach is roiling with nerves. 

 It takes you a long time to wake up, your pulse pounds in your ears, giving you a headache. Or maybe it was the chemical they used to knock you out.

 “Finally. We don’t have a lot of time, so we’ll get right to the point.” A man’s voice says roughly, grabbing your chin.

 Your eyes flutter closed as you fight the effects of whatever they gave you.

 “I hope you’re paying attention because I definitely don’t like to repeat myself.” He warns.

 “But I don’t like to share.” Bucky protests.

 “Great, it’s settled.” His friend grins, taking the bags from you and leading you away from Bucky. “I’m Sam. I’m sure he doesn’t mention me much. He wouldn’t want you to come to your senses and leave him for someone smarter, handsomer, superior in every way-really.” Sam smirks and you give a chuckle. 

 “You’ll have to let me know when someone like that arrives.” You return and he groans. Bucky laughs, kissing the top of your head. 

 “That’s my girl.”

 More of the Avengers file into the kitchen and you back up out of the way. Unfortunately, you bump right into Tony Stark. He squints down at you suspiciously. 

 “And where do you think you’re going?” He asks, draping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you back into the crowd. 

 “Oh, I was just moving out of the way.” You say awkwardly. 

 “Relax, kid. I’m messing with you.” He says easily. He opens a cabinet and turns to you. “Hands up.” He says and you hold your hands out automatically. He gets down a bunch of plates and sets them in your grasp. “Table. Go.” He turns you around and points to the large dining table. 

 You set out the plates while everyone brings the food over and it feels so surreal, sitting at a table surrounded by the most powerful humans on the planet and they’re just talking and laughing like one big family. 

 Bucky squeezes your hand as everyone starts helping themselves to food. Bowls get passed around and you only take small amounts of food, your nerves ratcheting high with every passing second. 

 “Not hungry?” Sam asks, looking at you.

 “No, we had a big catering thing at work and I overate. I really just brought food as an excuse to see Bucky.” You shrug with a glance at the man next to you. He gives you a cheeky smile in reply, his perfect eyes crinkling in the corner, a genuine smile full of affection that you wish you could return. 

 “Well, you can use that excuse any time. Natasha grins, biting into an egg roll. 

 You chuckle, taking a sip of your water. They start asking you questions, what you do, where you’re from, how’d you meet Bucky. 

 They’re easy enough to answer and for a moment, you’re distracted. But then you remember your situation and you sit back from your plate. Bucky takes your hand under the table, his thumb rubbing gentle circles on the back. 

 Everyone eats until the food is gone, even tiny little Natasha Romanoff packs away the lo mein. 

 “You can stay for a movie, right?” Sam narrows his eyes at you. 

 “Depends. What movie is it?” You ask. 

 “Bucky’s never seen James Bond, so we’re starting with the first one.” Wanda says, pushing herself up and carrying her plate to the sink. 

 “I’ll stay.” You nod, standing and grabbing yours and Bucky’s plates. 

 “Just pile them in the sink, Y/N. They can wait.” Tony calls and everyone files into the living room, settling on the comfortable couches. 

 You slide down next to Bucky and he shifts you against his side comfortably. “I missed you.” He whispers, pressing a kiss to your hairline. 

 “I missed you, too.” You mumble. 

 “Long day?” He asks, his hand rubbing your arm gently. 

 You nod, faking a yawn. “And I have to be up early tomorrow. Stupid budget meeting.” You roll your eyes as Tony starts the movie. 

 “You don’t have to stay long. I’m just glad you came.” He smiles. 

 Instead of replying, you rest your head on his shoulder. Wanda starts the movie and you don’t have to wait long. About ten minutes into the movie, Sam starts to snore, his head tilted back awkwardly against the headrest. They all fall like dominoes shortly after that. 

 Bucky’s fighting it, his eyes drop closed before flying open again. You look up at him, feeling each time he jerks himself awake. 

 “Bucky? You okay?” You whisper, heart breaking in your chest for him. 

 “Mhm.” He hums, rubbing his eyes.

 “If you’re tired, it’s okay. You guys had a long mission.” You mumble, brushing his hair back gently. 

 “Feel like a jerk.” He manages and you kiss his shoulder.

 “Don’t worry about it.” 

 His eyes drift close and his head drops back onto the love seat cushion. You grab a pillow and carefully lift his head to support it better. His eyes flutter again and you pause, watching him carefully. But they stay closed and you sigh in relief. 

 Easing yourself up and away from him, you grab another pillow and prop it under Sam’s head so that he doesn’t get a neck ache in the morning. Natasha and Wanda have shared the couch, laying at opposite ends, both soundly asleep. You pull the blanket off the back and drape it over them, tucking them in. 

 Tony is in an armchair, not much you can do for him there, but you cover him with a soft blanket, your stomach twisting into knots. 

 You wash the dishes quickly, getting rid of any evidence, placing them back in the cabinet. You gather up all the trash back into the delivery bag and set it on the counter. 

 Turning to Bucky, you wipe away at the tears that are collecting in your eyes. You really love this man. It hasn’t been long, but he’s treated you better than anyone else in your life. And if something could be both the hardest, and the easiest-it would be this. 

 You make your way back over, carefully sliding your hand into his pocket for his wallet. You find Tony’s lab card and make your way to the hallway.

 “Your boyfriend is going on a mission tomorrow with the rest of the freaks. When he gets back, you’re going to show up, the loving girlfriend, with enough food for all of them.” The man in black instructs. He grips your chin roughly, forcing you to look at him. “This goes in the food. It’ll knock them all out so you won’t be disturbed. Even your super freak boyfriend can’t fight it.” He grins, holding up a vial of liquid.

 “You’re crazy.” You snap, twisting your chin out of his tight grasp. 

 He sighs loudly. “I can see we’re gonna have to do this the hard way, then.” He shakes his head and opens a laptop screen. “I was hoping we wouldn’t have to use this option.” He turns the screen around and your eyes widen. 

 “No.” You gasp.

 The building is so quiet, eerily silent with everyone being passed out in the living room. You’ve memorized the layout, you know which way you’re supposed to go. But your feet drag. You don’t want to do this. Every cell in your body is fighting against it, against betraying him. 

 The glass doors slide open noiselessly and you step inside. You almost wish one of them would catch you. It would be a relief to not be able to finish, but you know they won’t. 

 You find the right terminal and plug in the external hard drive. Tapping away at the keyboard, it doesn’t take you long to find the right file. You make a copy of it, doing what you can to ease your conscience before leaving. 

 You’re tempted to stop in and see Bucky, just to look at him one last time, as though that would stop your heart from breaking. But you don’t. 

 You can’t. 

 You leave the building in a hurry, anxious to be done with this whole thing. A part of you believes that you won’t be seeing the sunrise. But they aren’t kind enough for that. As you pass one, you toss the trash in a dumpster, further obliterating the evidence. 

 The coffee shop is unfamiliar to you. It’s far from your apartment, so the anonymity is a bonus. 

 You slide into a booth, tipping your cup right side up. The waitress comes over, filling the cup. “Can I get you anything?” She asks in a bored tone. 

 “Not yet. I’m waiting for someone.” You answer automatically. You tongue is like cotton, your stomach churning with guilt and anxiety. There’s no way you could eat, even if you wanted to. 

 You don’t have to wait long, your hands have barely started to warm from the cup when a big man eases into the seat across from you. 

 “You’ve done well.” He praises. 

 You can feel your face twist in disgust. A compliment from him is about to make you sick. “I’ve got your stupid thing. I’m free to go now?” You ask hotly. 

 “Sure. Not like we don’t know where to find you if we need you again.” He grins wickedly at you. A wolf looking at a sheep. 

 You set the flash drive on the table and launch yourself out of your seat, rushing for the door. You need to escape, get out of the city. 

 A stop at the ATM empties your bank account, and then you’re a whirlwind, throwing clothes into your suitcases. There’s only one thought in your head: escape. 

 Escape those awful men. Escape your betrayal. Escape the hurt you’ve just caused to Bucky, his wrath when he finds out. But you deserve those things, his hatred and anger. You could take that because you deserve it. 

 But those men, they’re only out to cause more pain, to make you cause pain. And you can’t put up with that.

 You hail a cab, planning on never returning to your apartment again. You’ll become a shadow if you have to. Somehow. 

 Your chest aches, but you have to do it. You have to say goodbye.

 Bucky

 He paces the length of his quarters, listening to the ringing phone on the other end. You must be at work or something. He hangs up with a sigh. 

 He can’t believe they all passed out on you last night. What you must think of them. 

 “Sergeant Barnes, Mr. Stark would like to see you in his lab.” FRIDAY comes on the overhead. 

 “Sure. I’ll be right down.” He leaves his room and heads for the third floor entrance. 

 Stark is pacing, sharp pivots and staccato heel to toe steps. His face is turning various shades of red. He’s pissed. 

 “Tony?” Bucky starts. 

 “What do you think you were doing?” He asks instantly. 

 “I’m lost. What are you talking about?” Bucky frowns. 

 “Last night, you came into my lab and accessed the Dresden File.” He snaps. 

 “Last night? We were all together last night. I don’t even know what that file is.”

 “Oh right. And I’m just supposed to believe that you also didn’t make a copy of it and take it out of this building?” He crosses his arms defensively. 

 “Tony, I haven’t left the grounds since we got home yesterday afternoon. And why would I take one of your stupid files anywhere?” Bucky fires back. 

 “Well, explain how your access card was used to get in here, then. Hmm?” He demands. 

 “I dunno, genius. Have you tried pulling up the surveillance cameras?” 

 “I... I was just waiting for them to download.” He huffs, turning his back on the former soldier. 

 Bucky rolls his eyes. He might not be caught up on everything modern, but he sure as shit knows that you don’t have to download security footage.

 They both peer at the screen as you enter the lab. Bucky’s blood freezes in his veins as he watches you steal from Stark. 

 “What’s in the file that she took?” Bucky asks through clenched teeth. 

 “A weapon. Or at the very least, it can be used as a weapon if modified correctly.” Tony looks up at him. “If she sells it,” he trails off unnecessarily. 

 Bucky knows exactly what will happen. You better hope he can’t find you.

 Bucky marches out of the lab and straight for the front door. He heads straight for you apartment, which isn’t smart; if you had any brains at all you wouldn’t be there. How can you do this to him? There has to be some kind of mistake, or misunderstanding. 

 You love him, you wouldn’t do this to him. Or maybe after 80 years in captivity, he’s forgotten how to read people. You were just a lie, a beautiful lie. 

 He pounds on your front door, nearly kicking it down but you don’t answer. He easily picks the lock, his anger and desperation warring inside him. He needs there to be some logic reason that you’ve done this. 

 Maybe it wasn’t really you. Maybe it’s like what Wanda does, an illusion. Someone making them think that it’s you.

 The door swings open as his phone rings. He steps inside, answering it. “What, Stark?” 

 Your apartment is a mess. Chairs tipped over, dishes broken on the floor. The cushions on the couch have been tossed. 

 “She emptied her bank account late last night. She’s gone.” 

 “See if you can follow her on security cameras when she leaves the building. Find out where she went.” He says with a sigh. 

 How can a guy be so wrong?

 ***

 The knock on your motel room door nearly sends you into a heart attack. You rise silently from the chair and creep to the door. If it’s those guys again, you don’t know how you’re going to get away. You’ve already refused maid service, no one knows you’re here.

 You look out the peep hole and your heart somersaults in your chest. You should have been expecting this, you should have known he wouldn’t let it go. Doesn’t make what you’re about to do any easier. 

 You square your shoulders, take a deep breath. Its for his own good. You swing open the door, your face cold and detached. “What do you want?” You mutter.

 “Are you kidding me?” He pushes his way into your room, taking in the dingy walls and ugly carpet. “Where is it?” He rounds on you, his handsome face contorted in pain. Maybe rage?

 “Where is what?” You sigh. 

 He surges forward, grabbing your arms and shaking you. “Don’t play stupid. The flash drive, Y/N. I want it back.” He snaps. 

 “I don’t have it anymore.” You reply dully. 

 “Bullshit.”

 “You think I’m gonna hold onto that? Got rid of it the first chance I got.” You snap back.

 “And now you’re just hiding in a shit motel in Jersey? Of all places-fucking Jersey.” He rolls his eyes. 

 “First stop on my farewell tour.” You mutter. “If that’s all, I’d like my arms back now.”

 He shoves you away from him and you bump into the wall with more force than you were expecting. “Just... tell me why. I thought...” he trails off and your resolve nearly breaks. 

 “I know what you thought. That’s what made it so easy. But the truth is, I was only using you.” You say, the words managing not to break. 

 His face crumples and he steps away from you. “None of it was real?”

 “Sorry.” You say flatly, but inside you’re shredded. 

 He leaves mutely, climbing onto his motorcycle and you worry about him driving home. But you can’t break now. You shut the door, cutting off your view of him and you sink to the floor. 

 Tony

 “Boss. Sergeant Barnes has returned.” FRIDAY announces over the lab speaker. “He’s headed for his quarters.” 

 “Is he alone?” Tony asks, his eyes drifting to the computer screen. 

 “Yes.”

 “When he gets there, put me through.” Tony says, spinning in his chair. Barnes had one direction. Bring back the girl, or at the very least, the stolen property. 

 Should’ve known he’d let his emotions get in the way. He’s just like Rogers.

 The screen to his left lights up and he can see Barnes tense in the entry way. He doesn’t wanna talk. 

 “Where is she, Barnes?” Tony asks, digging through the computer. 

 “I let her go.” He mutters blankly. 

 “I’m sorry? You let my thief go? You better have the files, then.” He retorts. 

 “She didn’t have them.” He sounds sick. 

 “So, now both are gone in the wind. That’s perfect. I suppose it’s too much to hope that you pulled your head out of your ass long enough to get the name of the terrorist group she sold it to!” 

 “Nope. Maybe this will teach you to stop making weapons.” The video clicks off and Tony shakes his fists, strangling the air, pretending unsatisfactorily that it was Bucky Barnes in his grasp. 

 “Dick. Prince Douche.” Tony mutters under his breath. “King Asshat.” He turns his favorite playlist on high, hoping to crush out his frustrations. The soothing tones of Black Sabbath pulses through the sound system and he gets to work, searching for whatever else Bucky’s girlfriend did to his system. 

 While he works, his thoughts wander. 

 You’re good. For someone who has never even been in this building before, you knew exactly where the lab was and what terminal to go to. You knew what you were looking for, almost like... 

 His Twizzler falls out of his mouth as a thought occurs to him. 

 Shit. He almost hopes he’s wrong. 

 He scrubs the rest of the files, finding just one anomaly. He backtracks the keystrokes and recreates it. 

 Finished, he sits back with a slump. 

 Oh. You’re very, very good. He bolts out of the lab and practically sprints to Bucky’s quarters, pounding on the door. Doubled over, gasping for breath-he pounds again. 

 “What?” Bucky snaps, yanking open his door, looking all kinds of disheveled. “Stark, do you even know what time it is?” He rubs his eyes. 

 “It doesn’t matter. We have a problem.” Tony gasps, trying to catch his breath. He’s getting too old for this shit. 

 “Yeah, you need to cut back on the caffeine.” Barnes sighs. 

 “No. I think your super secret spy girlfriend was put up to this.” 

 “Tony, I don’t wanna talk about it.”

 “Even if she’s in danger? Even if the people who did this to her come after her again?” Tony challenges. 

 “Stark, if she really was being put on, or blackmailed, or coerced-why wouldn’t she come to us? We’re a bunch of super freaks. We could have protected her. Think about it. She did this on her own.”

 “Not necessarily. We don’t know what they blackmailed her with. Maybe she thought the threat was too much of a risk. Where is she?”

 “Some piece of shit motel in Jersey. But she made it clear that she was only... that she did it on her own.” He clears his throat. 

 “Let me guess, while you were looking at her with those big puppy dog eyes? Yeah, no wonder she made you leave.” Tony changes direction. “Get dressed. We’re taking a trip.” He heads for Wilson’s quarters, knowing he’ll need the big bird brain as backup. 

 An hour later they pull up outside the motel just as you leave your room. It’s still dark outside, you should be sleeping, not leaving in the middle of the night. But here you are, bags in hand as you load them into a rental. You glance around nervously as you climb in. 

 “What’s she doing?” Sam leans forward, squinting. 

 “Looks like Barnes spooked her. If this pea brain can find her here, anyone can.” Tony reasons. 

 Bucky punches him in the arm, but doesn’t disagree. Tony tries not to let it show just how much it hurts. 

 “What do we do when we actually get her?” Sam asks. 

 “Get her to tell us who she gave it to. Then take them out.” Tony says simply. 

 “You never really said what makes you think she was blackmailed.” Bucky sighs, shifting in his seat. 

 “I found the file she copied. She made a copy of it on the computer first, then she removed key components. Things you have to have to make it work. Without them, these guys have scraps of paper-not enough to complete one for themselves. She transferred that second copy and that alone to the flash drive. She did everything she could to make sure they didn’t get what they wanted.” Tony half smiles. He should hire you. 

 “How do you know she didn’t write it down? Just to throw us off.” Barnes huffs as Tony follows you out of the parking lot. 

 “Cameras, Barnes. She didn’t. She deleted key sections. If she had just deleted a line or a random number, they could have figured it out with a mild genius. But she deleted pages. They have no way of knowing what was on those pages. She deleted half the design, code instructions, equations-huge chunks of vitally important information. It’s useless to them now. But I’d certainly feel better knowing who they are in case they try again.” 

 They follow you from a distance, confused as you leave New Jersey going south. You should have been going back to the city, not away from it. 

 ***

 It’s hard. Hard to remember that you need to drive the speed limit, hard to forget Bucky’s face as you lied to him. That look will haunt you until you die. Maybe one day you’ll have a chance to tell him the truth. 

 Maybe it won’t matter if you do. 

 Your eyes itch. It’s been a long three days. But you can’t close them yet. No rest for the wicked. 

 You pull into another gas station, heading inside. Cash only, and you could use about five more Red Bull’s. You grab a variety of energy drinks; Monsters, Red Bull’s, Jolts, Nos. The guy behind the counter stares at you as he rings you up. 

 “Too much of these ain’t good for ya, sweetheart. Make your heart give out.” He says conversationally. 

 “That’s the plan. Gimme thirty on pump four.” You add, sliding the cash over. 

 He hands you your bag and you pop the top on one of the heart attacks in a can as you start the pump. You chug half the drink while your tank fills. You climb back in the safety of your car, slapping your face roughly. 

 Flipping the visor down, you glare at your haggard reflection. “Wake up. You have a fucking job to do.” You point your finger. 

 You turn your music back on, blasting it loud enough to rattle the windows and you pull out of the lot, heading back for the highway. 

 Christ, your eyes itch. They feel like sand is in them every time you blink. You can’t stop, can’t slow down. You might already be too late-no. You can’t think like that. Bucky can’t lose anyone else. 

 It’s dark by the time you finally pull into the nursing home lot. You pull into a spot near the door, taking a moment to check your appearance. 

 Death warmed up. Perfect. You smooth out your hair before giving up. After two days of solid travel, there was no fixing this. You twist slowly in your seat, looking at every car in the lot, searching for people in them, something to hint at being watched. 

 Nothing, empty. You climb out and head inside the quiet lobby. 

 It’s almost empty, the desk clerk and one other person, sitting nervously off to the side.

 “Chuck?” You ask, turning toward him. 

 He looks up and nods. “Y/N?” 

 You take a brief second to think about all the faces you’ve seen, but he wasn’t one. And looking closer, you can see Bucky’s eyes, the statuesque angle of his nose. 

 Yes, this is who you’re looking for. 

 “Thanks for agreeing to meet me. I know this is strange.” You sigh, stepping forward.

 “You said something about danger.”

 “I would feel better if we could speak in your grandmother’s room. It’s a little more private.” You say pointedly. 

 “Right.” 

 He leads you to the elevator and presses the button. “Are you okay, Y/N? You look exhausted.” Chuck comments. 

 “I’ll be alright.” You wave him off as the doors open. 

 “I’m surprised you know who this is.” The man chuckles. “Barnes’ sister. She lives in a home in Savannah. Abandoned by her family, left unprotected. So easily eliminated. She sits in front of this window day and night, reading. One well placed bullet if you don’t do what we say, well, it’s goodnight, Vienna.” He grins wickedly. “You don’t want this old lady’s death on your conscience, do you?” 

 “You’re a monster.” You curse, spitting at his feet. The men around him laugh. 

 “Maybe you have no feelings about dear old Becky. That’s alright, there’s always plan B, or is it part 2? Who’s to say we won’t kill both of them?” He changes the picture and your eyes fill with tears. 

 No.

 “I can see we have a deal.” He smirks, caressing your cheek. 

 Chuck pushes open the door and enters comfortably. You slide against the wall, keeping clear of the windows. 

 “Charles?” Rebecca looks up, a beautiful smile crossing her face for her grandson. 

 “Hey, nana. How are you feeling?” He asks, bending down to kiss her cheek. 

 “Ready to run a marathon.” She grins. “Visiting hours are over, sweetheart. What are you doing here so late?”

 “Nana, this is Y/N. She’s a friend of Uncle James’. She thinks you might be in danger.” He says, gesturing to you. 

 “Danger? From who? Surely you don’t think my brother-“

 “No, ma’am. Your brother doesn’t know I’m here.” You say. “He’s, well, he doesn’t really know about this. I couldn’t tell him before I left.” You wrinkle your forehead in hopeless frustration. 

 How to explain this?

 “Charles, give me a minute with her.” Rebecca says, shooing him out the door.

 “Alright, I’ll be outside.” He smiles fondly at her before leaving. 

 “Have a seat, dear.” She gestures to the bed, but you avoid crossing the window, instead sitting at the small table. “Tell me what happened, from the beginning.” She urges, taking your hand. 

 “I’ve done something terrible. Your brother trusted me and I had to betray it. There were these men, they wanted something from your brother’s job and they forced me to get it. If I didn’t, they would have killed you, and someone else. I couldn’t do that to Bucky, not when he just got you back.”

 “And why are you here now?” She asks.

 “To warn you. To make sure you’re protected. I don’t want anything bad to happen to you. He loves you too much and he has so little good in his life. And after what I did... he’s going to need you.” You say, a thick lump of emotions choking your throat. 

 You know Bucky is lost to you. But she doesn’t have to be lost to him. “If I can give him this, it will make it a little easier to bear.”

 She studies your face for a long minute in silence. “You love him.” She states finally. 

 “Yes. But it doesn’t matter anymore. I had to ruin it, to make him hate me. For his own protection. Now they can’t use me again.” 

 She’s quiet again, thoughtful. “Alright. What do you need me to do?” She asks, leaning forward in her chair. 

 “Go with your family. Stay safe. Call Bucky and tell him you think people have been watching you, you’ve seen suspicious men around the building. He’ll come keep you safe.” Your voice cracks and a tear slips down your cheek. 

 “And if he doesn’t? I’m an old woman. I’ve lived my life.” She raises her chin a fraction of an inch. 

 “A life without your brother. Now you have a chance to share memories with him. To help him heal from all that time and trauma. You’re his family Rebecca. He talks about you all the time, shares stories about your family-his family. He’s so happy knowing he can just talk to you whenever. He thought that would never be possible. His whole face lights up when he mentions you. He’ll be there. He’ll protect you, I know it like I know my own name.” You promise. “Please? Stay safe for him?” 

 She squeezes your hand, surprisingly strong for a woman in her nineties. “I promise, darling. What about this other person you mentioned?” 

 “I’m going to him next. But I had to make sure you were safe first.”

 “I hope you can fix things with my brother. He’s lucky to have someone so strong.” 

 “Hardly. I don’t think it’s possible to fix this. Thank you for listening. It’s an honor to meet you.” You stand up and press a soft kiss to her weathered cheek. “I’ll send Charles back in.” You head for the door, opening it gently. 

 “She agree?” He asks. 

 You nod with a sigh. “Thanks for listening and not thinking I’m crazy.”

 “Good luck. There’s a motel down the road if you wanna catch some sleep.” He says and you shake your head. 

 “Thanks. But I gotta keep moving. I have another appointment to keep.”

 He bends down and kisses your cheek, surprising you. “Be safe. Thanks for looking out for us.”

 You squeeze his hand and turn away. At least they can be safe. 

 The window is rolled down as you pull back onto the highway. It feels good on your face and you crank the music to help you stay awake. 

 Savannah isn’t that far from FSU, your next destination. Just a couple more hours. You can do it. 

 You pop the top on your last Red Bull and chug half of it, hoping it’s enough. 

 The sunlight creeps over the horizon just as you reach the outer most limits of Tallahassee. You’ll reach campus just in time for classes. 

 You feel a sense of calm, despite your new energy drink addiction-the light at the end of the tunnel is in sight, so to speak. 

 You find the campus easily, pulling through to the main building. Christ, you hope you can catch him in time. As you reach to unbuckle your seatbelt, you spot him. 

 That beautiful, annoying boy that you’ll never complain about again. 

 “Your brother, he’s in his final year at Florida State University, isn’t he? Captain of the football team, maintaining a perfect 4.0 gpa. I believe his favorite teacher is Mrs. Yaira Morrison. She teaches his history class at one o’clock on Tuesday and Thursday.” The man says with a twisted smile. 

 Your chest heaves, watching your baby brother on the screen. They have you and they know it. 

 “What do you want me to do?” You mutter, wishing Death by a Thousand Cuts on him and his party of villains. 

 “See? I knew we could count on her!” He claps his hands enthusiastically. 

 You lurch out of your car, legs wobbly from lack of sleep, proper food, and being immobile for too long. You rush towards him, shouting his name. He’s too far away to hear you, but you know you can catch him, you have to warn him. 

 A body steps in front of you, blocking your way between the cars. You move to step around them, thinking for half a second that it’s just a student getting out of their vehicle. They block you again and you take a second look, recognizing his face in horror. 

 “Don’t make me chase you.” He warns, but you’re already taking off between the cars, trying to find a way back to yours. 

 But no, that wouldn’t be safe either. They had to have followed you here. Before you can think further on it, arms grab you from behind and your head is bashed against the hood of a truck, everything going black.

 Bucky

 There is absolutely nothing worse than listening to two grown men bicker like school boys. 

 “I can’t believe you lost her.” Sam snaps at Tony. 

 “Me? You were supposed to be watching her car! I was focusing on not dying in Florida traffic. How do people live this way?”

 “I told you not to take 75.” Sam retorts. Bucky can almost recite this argument word for word now. 

 “Don’t take 75? She took 75! What was I supposed to do? Take a different highway and hope we end up in the same place?”

 “Or don’t drive like a damn grandma! I see why Happy drives you everywhere.” Sam shoots back and Tony’s face gets beet red.

 “Take it back.” He demands.

 “No.” Sam crosses his arms. 

 “Take. It. Back.”

 “Make me, grandma.”

 “Take this exit, Stark.” Bucky mutters. That puts a brief pause to their squabbling. You’ve had them driving for days on end and they’re all exhausted. How you haven’t passed out yet is a miracle. 

 “Why?” 

 “Because I know where she’s going and if you drive the actual speed limit, we can make it there before tomorrow.” Bucky fires and Tony glares at him. 

 “Where’s she going?” Sam asks, leaning back in his seat, thrilled that someone else was taking shots at Tony, too. 

 “FSU. Her brother goes there. If she’s being blackmailed, chances are it’s with his life.” He sighs. He wishes, not for the first time, that you had just confided in him. He would have found a way to make your brother safe, to make you safe. 

 His phone rings in his pocket and he pulls it out to see his sister’s picture smiling up at him. His heart tugs fondly at the photo. “Becky?” He starts. Something’s wrong. He sensed it when he realized you drove directly past his sister’s assisted living building. That was no coincidence. 

 “Bucky, I met a friend of yours last night. Lovely girl.” She starts off casually, no sense of concern in her weathered voice. 

 “Y/N? You met her?” He asks with a frown. Why would you have gone to see his sister?

 “I did. She came to warn me about this danger that I seem to be in.” He’s alert in his seat now, all sense of weariness gone. 

 “Danger? Rebecca! Why didn’t you call me immediately?” He demands. 

 “Well, because I’ve thought about it, and I’ll do what she says-go on a trip with my kids. But I won’t do the second bit.” She says stubbornly and he presses his metal fingers to his forehead.

 “What second bit?” He sighs.

 “She said that I should tell you I’m being followed, that I’m in danger so that you’ll come here. But,”

 “I will!” He insists. 

 “But I think she’s in more danger than I am. She mentioned someone else was being threatened, someone she cares about.”

 “Her brother. We’re already aware.”

 “Oh, good. Then, you’re also aware that she loves you?” Rebecca says and he can just picture her squinting at him suspiciously, like she might hit him with her slipper if he gets the answer wrong. Just like his ma used to. 

 “Not according to her.”

 “Ah, my brother, the idiot.” She sighs wistfully and he cracks a small smile. 

 “What else did she tell you?” He asks. 

 “That she wanted to keep me safe and protected for you. She didn’t want you to lose anyone else. That she had to make you hate her for your own protection. And she doesn’t think she’ll be able to fix things with you.” She’s quiet for a minute. “But if the circumstances were different, Bucky. If she did what she did out of fear, out of loyalty and wanting to protect a complete stranger just to make one man happy-doesn’t that change things, big brother? She’s not entirely lost to you.” She finishes and he can’t force the lump in his throat to move enough to choke out words. “Just, just think about it, alright? I promised her I would keep myself safe for you. Now I need you to promise to keep her safe.”

 He clears his throat roughly. “Promise.”

 “Call me when it’s done.” She says. “I love you.” She hangs up and Bucky drops the phone into his lap, rubbing his face. 

 “What’s wrong?” Sam asks from the back seat. 

 “They threatened my sister, too. That’s why we were right there last night. Y/N went to go see Rebecca, to warn her. You were right, Stark.” He sighs dejectedly. 

 He thought he was better at reading people. But you lied so easily to him and he fell for it. How had he missed every micro expression telling him that something wasn’t right?

 “So, we really need to find her, then.” Tony says, stepping on the gas. 

 “Finally.” Sam mutters under his breath. 

 The campus is huge. They circle and circle and circle, looking for your car. Twice, they think they spot it, but checking it out further reveals no luggage in the back.

 “Maybe we missed her? Maybe she got to him and left already?” Sam suggests. 

 “Wait, is that it?” Tony points to one of the back rows of cars. 

 “Didn’t we pass that one already?” Sam asks, confused. 

 “Only one way to find out.” Bucky grumbles, already launching himself out of the car. His heart thuds to a stop when he sees your luggage in the back seat, empty energy drink cans littering the floor. He waves them over. 

 “This it?” Tony asks. 

 “Yeah, pull up that fancy camera hacking thing and follow her. See if she’s inside the school so we don’t have to spend hours walking around looking for her.” Bucky says. 

 Tony pulls out his tablet, sets it on the dark hood of the car and types a few command strokes. Bucky hovers over his shoulder, breathing down his neck, really irritating the older man. 

 “Back off, man.” Tony elbows his ribs uselessly as the cameras rewind. He might as well have hit a brick for all the pain it causes him. There are several different angles across the massive parking lots and the interior courtyards. Plus the interior hallways and classrooms. There’s almost too much to watch, but they have to. 

 Tony finds your car pulling in and he slows down to watch where you park. It’s a tense silence as they watch you get out, heading across the lot before someone cuts you off. He blocks out the rest of the screens, making this one camera the focus. 

 Bucky’s stomach seems to fill with lead as you take off running, despite how exhausted you must feel. The man chases you, but Bucky can see what you can’t. You’re not running away, you’re being herded. Another man, massive compared to you, grabs you from behind-a blitz attack-and he smashes your head into the hood of another car. It’s hard enough of a hit to leave a dent in the car. 

 It’s an extremely good thing that Bucky isn’t holding onto anything, or he would have broken it. 

 Before he can even speak, Tony is already working. A car pulls up and you’re loaded inside. Tony captures the license plate and dismisses the camera, opting for another program. 

 Bucky paces behind his friends, knowing anything he would say isn’t going to be helpful. His mind is racing, faster than he can even process what exactly he’s thinking. 

 You should have come to him. You should have trusted him. How can you love him and not trust him? Of all the things he wants to say to you, this thought burns hardest in his throat. 

 What were you thinking?

 “What do you think they want with her?” Sam frowns, glancing at both of them. 

 “Revenge.” Bucky mutters, his skin turning cold at the thought of you being hurt by their hands. 

 “The file.” Tony offers as an alternative. “Maybe they think she has another copy of it, or access to it again. Might buy her some time.” He glanced at Bucky, but he hardly hears him. 

 “Where is she, Stark?” Bucky asks tersely. 

 “Cameras are following their car, and I’m running facial recognition.” Tony says, but it doesn’t really soothe Bucky. 

 “Here. Get in. We can follow the map they’re making and maybe meet them there.” Sam suggests, taking the keys. 

 Tony climbs in the front seat where Bucky had been, Sam drives and Bucky sits in the back, his nerves ratcheting higher with every passing second that he’s not smashing their faces in. 

 “Got them.” Tony comments, typing furiously on his keyboard. The constant clicking is begging to grate on Bucky’s last nerve. 

 Sam follows the route highlighted on the dash screen, and at least he’s driving like a human. You’ve been in their grasp too long and it’s making Bucky irrationally anxious to not be able to see you. It’s strange that just ten hours ago, he never wanted to see you again. Now he can’t wait to get you back in his hands. 

 “There’s an old camera system in the building that they took her to. It’s half an hour away and they have a bit of a head start. I’m back hacking it now.” Tony says. 

 “You know no one says that anymore, right? No one calls it hacking. And back hacking is hacking someone that already hacked you.” Sam squints at him suspiciously. “Do you even know what a computer is?” He asks, swerving around a car going much too slow in the zoom-zoom lane. 

 “Better than you do, Bird Brain.” Tony snaps. “Got it.” The display changes and Bucky stares in horror. Sam inches the needle towards 100. 

 ***

 The thud pulses in your ears as the buzzing sting spreads slowly across your cheek. Another thud, more stinging as the blood surges to the surface of your face. The restraints around your wrists pull roughly as you’re shifted in the metal chair. 

 You don’t make a sound, happy to take this punishment. You deserve this for hurting Bucky, and if they’re this mad-they couldn’t recover the missing parts of the file. Even better. 

 “Where’s the rest of it?” The leader sighs, pacing behind his man. His fingers are steepled against the bridge of his nose as he sighs loudly. “I was told that Stark had a fully functional, working blueprint. What you gave me is useless.”

 His brute swings his open hand again, the force of his slap twisting your head to the side. Your eyes water and your cheek heats up to the point of burning. The man grabs a fistful of your hair and turns your head back to face forward with a low chuckle. Your face feels heavy, sluggish as the excess blood rushes there.

 “Where’s the rest of it?” The leader demands. You remain silent, willing to take the pain. Nothing can be worse than the feeling of being forced to betray Bucky. He sighs loudly, nodding to someone off to your left. “Here’s what you’re gonna do. You’re gonna go back to Stark’s lab. You’re gonna get the full file. You’re gonna promptly deliver it back to me.”

 “No.” You say simply. 

 “No? That’s funny. It sounds like you think you have a choice.” He tilts his head and another man steps forward. This new man, half hidden in shadows, takes a drag off a cigarette, the burning end flaring bright burnt orange in the darkness. With an exhale of smoke, the shadow man presses the cigarette to the fleshy underside of your forearm. 

 You grit back a scream, but as he twists it in the raw wound, it’s too much and the sound rips from your throat. 

 “We’ll give you some time to reconsider your choice.” The leader sneers, nodded to the others.  They exit, leaving you alone with the shadow man. 

 He lights the cigarette again, the smell of your flesh burning floats around you, making you sick. He doesn’t ask you any questions, doesn’t talk to you. He just puts out the cigarette on your skin, any exposed spot he can find. 

 He braces his hands on your burned forearms, squeezing tightly. You scream again, the tears falling freely. You can admit it hurts, but you still won’t give them what they want. 

 You can’t. 

 He chuckles, blowing the smoke in your face as the bright ember flares just inches from your face. Slowly, he removes the cigarette trapped between his lips and floats his hand around, trying to decide where to burn you next. 

 “Ah.” He smiles softly, brushing hair back from your neck carefully, almost tenderly. You try to contain the whimper, but fail miserably. He pulls down the neck of your shirt, exposing your collarbone before pushing the burning point to the flesh just below. 

 You scream, thrashing against your restraints. You sob, trying to breathe against it. Doesn’t matter what they do to you, you won’t do what they want. 

 The door opens behind him and another man steps through. He wrinkles his nose in disgust. “I don’t know how people can be cannibals. The smell is awful.” He laughs, clapping your torturer on the shoulder. “Brought you some more tools.” He places more cigarette cartons in the man’s hand. You whimper involuntarily and he grins, looking down at you. 

 “Ready to make a deal, sweetheart?” He asks lightly. You spit your answer at his feet. “Perfect. I love when they scream.” He shifts your shirt, his eyes turning thoughtful. “Well, she needs to be symmetrical. Every work of art is symmetrical, and you, my friend, are nothing if not an artist.” He smirks, stepping back. 

 The shadow man lights up again, taking a couple puffs before pressing it to your skin again, this time under your opposite collarbone. 

 Another scream tears through your lips as you fight against him with his rough hands and disgusting pleasure at your pain. 

 “Oh, one last one before we call the boss in, huh?” The newcomer suggests, pulling a cigar case out of his pocket. “It’s Cuban.” He teases, holding it out like an offering. 

 The shadow man takes it with a crooked grin and snips the end, smelling it appreciatively. He lights the end and takes a big drag off it. Your heart pounds erratically in your chest. This one is so much bigger than the others, a nickel compared to a pencil eraser. 

 He bites the end between his teeth and motions to his friend for a pair of scissors. His friend pulls out a pocket knife and the fear spikes through you for real this time. You thought they just wanted to torture you into compliance, but if they were planning something worse, you couldn’t fight against them killing you. 

 He bends over in front of you, ashes falling on your thighs. He taps the sharp blade against your right thigh, and then your left, as though unable to decide. He taps your right palm, his eyes widening in mock fear. Then he taps your left palm, nicking the heel of your hand. Then he drags the tip lightly up your arm, inside your elbow, up to your shoulder.

 The blade is next to your thudding pulse and all it would take it just one quick flick and you’d be dead. 

 But instead, he drags the tip along your collarbone and down along your sternum. One thrust and it would puncture your heart. Lights out. No more Y/N. You would never be able to tell Bucky how sorry you are, or how much you love him. 

 But you saved his sister. You can rest in peace with that knowledge. 

 You close your eyes, fixing Bucky’s beautiful face in front of you so he’s the last thing you see. 

 The tip of the blade presses into your sternum, breaking through the fabric of your shirt. But instead of going further, he holds that delicate balance. 

 And then he slides the blade up, slicing through your shirt like a hot knife through butter. He yanks when it gets to the seam at the collar, clipping your chin with the end of it. 

 You yelp in surprise at not being dead and blood drips from your chin. He puffs a few more times on the cigar before spreading your ripped shirt and pressing between the valley of your breasts. 

 You scream through a sob as he burns you, holding the extinguished cigar in your wound. The door opens and the leader steps through, wiping his hands dry. 

 “How’s our guest? Ready to reconsider?” He asks pleasantly. 

 Rage makes you spiteful. You can’t wait to throw anything you can in his face. 

 “Doesn’t matter what I say. You blew your shot.” You laugh, slightly hysterical. “Barnes knows what I did. I’m never getting near that building again. And even if I could, I wouldn’t. Not for you, not for the next scumbag, or the next one. You might as well just kill me. I should have told you that from the beginning.” You slump back in your seat, shivering slightly at the clammy sweat that’s broken out across your skin from the torture. 

 Oh, how you wish you’d been strong enough to tell him to fuck off from the start. You might be a day late and a dollar short, but you’ll be damned if you don’t do the right thing this time. 

 Bucky will know about his sister by now, she’ll be safe and protected, him by her side where he should be. 

 Your brother... your eyes fill reluctantly with tears as you think about your younger brother, just starting his life. He’s smart, hopefully smart enough to stay away from this mess, no matter what happens to you now. 

 “There are plenty of other people to do your job.” He snarls, reaching into his jacket. He pulls out a large silver gun, a revolver as far as you can tell. “See this?” He asks, pointing the barrel right between your eyes. You can feel the cold from the metal, just centimeters from your skin. 

 “Hard not to.” You manage.

 “It’s my favorite. Smith and Wesson’s 460XVR 45 Colt. Gonna leave a hole the size of a potato in the back of your head from this distance.” He hefts the gun experimentally and you try not to flinch, his finger too close to the trigger for comfort. He turns to look at his men. “Feels a little unsportsmanlike to shoot a girl like this, doesn’t it?”

 “A bit, boss.” 

 He turns back to me. “So, let’s play a game. I’m sure you’re familiar.” He releases the cylinder and dumps out the bullets. Your stomach flip flops uncomfortably. 

 He’s gonna drag this out as long as possible. It’s still part of the torture. He holds up one bullet and slides it in, snapping the cylinder shut as he spins it. 

 “How about it? Feel like getting my file now?” He asks, leveling the gun back at your forehead. 

 You close your eyes, picturing Bucky’s face. The way he kissed you before everything went to shit, the smile he’d save just for you. 

 The hammer clicks, but nothing happens. Empty. Tears slip out, stinging the cuts on your cheek, and you have another moment to remember how much you love Bucky Barnes. His beautiful blue eyes, his perfect lopsided smile, his laugh.

 “How about now?” The cruel voice demands. 

 You murmur Bucky’s name. A quiet prayer, something beautiful and bright among the darkness surrounding you. You can almost feel his soft hair under your fingertips as he kissed you against your front door that last night. The night he told you he loved you. 

 Click.

 Another moment spared. The man chuckles, gripping your chin tightly and your entire face throbs in pain. “Your luck is running out, little girl. Make your choice.” He snarls. 

 “I have. You lose.” You sigh, eyes still closed. “Bucky, I love you.” You barely whisper, lips moving just a fraction. You don’t say it for anyone else, just yourself. 

 Bucky will never know. You’ll die here, with him thinking you were a cold hearted bitch. And that’s okay, because you were able to give him his family back. And you can live with that. So to speak. He might never even know you’re dead. Just that you left. 

 And that’s okay, too. Better really for him to move on. 

 The cold muzzle and front sight press roughly against your forehead, tearing at the skin there. 

 “I don’t lose.” He growls. 

 There’s a loud banging noise, making you jump. The gun disappears from your face and it takes you a long second to realize you’re not dead. And then to realize there’s a violent fight progressing in front of you. 

 Slowly you open your eyes to see three familiar men fighting your three torturers. Sam is fighting the shadow man, Tony-his companion. Bucky is fighting the leader, with the gun. 

 Bucky’s metal hand is holding onto the wrist with the gun while his right hand is trying to strike at the man with a long, silver knife. The man backs up quickly, trying to stay out of the reach of the wicked knife, but he trips, falling backward and taking Bucky with him, the gun between them. 

 There’s a muffled boom, like a cannon and both men freeze on the floor. You scream for Bucky, fighting against your restraints, unable to move, unable to check on him, sobbing with fear and frustration. 

 Slowly, unsure, he lifts himself up, glancing down at his chest, hole-free. Carefully, he walks over to you, kneeling in front of you as both Sam and Tony subdue their adversaries. 

 He’s okay. He’s alive. 

 He cups your face gently, like he’s cradling a delicate bubble. Carefully, softly, he brushes away your tears before cutting your wrists free. His eyes linger on the burns, a dozen on each arm and you pull them back from his inspection. The movement hurts, but no worse than seeing his face, knowing what he must think of you. 

 “Why are you here?” You ask quietly. 

 “I thought I made myself pretty clear.” He frowns. “I distinctly remember saying I love you.” He smiles gently. 

 “You’re supposed to be with your sister. She needs you.” You protest. “You’re not... you shouldn’t... not after what I did. I’m not...” you trail off, your throat tight as a tidal wave of emotions crash over you. 

 “Sh, sh, sh. It’s okay. We can talk about this later. We need to get you looked at.” He shakes his head. He holds out his hand for me to take, but you can’t bear it, so you use the arms of the chair to push yourself up. You sway on the spot, your body aching, dizzy with pain. 

 Bucky catches you before you can fall, lifting you gently, holding you against his broad chest. You close your eyes, trying to fight the tears as he carries you out of the building behind his two friends. Sam and Tony are leading our their prisoners, taking a certain amount of pleasure each time they trip. 

 “You needed me more.” He whispers after a minute. 

 “What?” You frown.

 “You said Becky needed me. But you needed me more.” His eyes drop to your neck, the burns there and your split shirt. A growl rumbles low in his chest and he shifts you closer. 

 He sets you carefully in the back seat, climbing in next to you. He pulls you against his side and you resist slightly, feeling guilty. You were cruel to him. He shouldn’t just forgive you, not like that. You betrayed his trust, took his heart and threw it back in his face. You don’t deserve him, his love, his comfort, or his forgiveness. 

 “Y/N?” He starts quietly as Sam and Tony cram the two men into the trunk, lingering behind the car. Probably to give you some privacy. 

 “How can you stand to be near me? After what I said to you... you should’ve just let me...” you squeeze your eyes shut, so you miss him flinch. 

 “At first, I was just gonna pretend you did. But then Tony found out what you did to the file. He’s the one who figured it out, what was really going on. And then Becky called. She really likes you.” He says with a fond smile. “We were already on our way to Florida to get you. I’m sorry we were almost too late.” He whispers, his thumb brushing your cheek again. 

 “How did you find me?” You ask, anything to keep him talking. 

 “Tony found out where they had taken you and got into the camera system. We tuned in just in time to see the cigarettes...” his jaw locks shut for a moment and you can feel him struggling. “I nearly lost my mind when he pulled out the gun.”

 Sam and Tony climb back in,  effectively cutting off your conversation. Bucky tries one more time to hold you, but you can’t let him. The image of his face as he left your motel room haunts you. 

 You don’t deserve him, no matter your reasons for doing what you did. There’s a special place in hell for hurting someone as good as Bucky. 

 “Samuel, to the airport, please.” Tony says pompously. He flips down his visor and catches your eye, smiling. “Do you drive in Florida a lot?” He asks randomly. 

 “I grew up here.”

 “How did you survive? The roads down here are insane.”

 “Says the guy who lives in the city with some of the worst drivers in the world.” You return, your heart not really into the banter. 

 “Your brother’s safe.” Bucky mumbles, his hand twitching towards you. “We alerted the police.”

 You glance back at him and nod before turning to look out the window. You just need a minute alone, to think, to process, to cry. You need to figure out what to say to Bucky so he can see that he needs to leave. 

 ***

 The jet isn’t spacious enough to give you space, and they never leave your side at the airport. 

 Bucky sits next to you on the plane, keeping you far from the two men. That’s easy, you want to be around them just as much as he wants you around them. 

 You can feel him staring at you, the words bubbling up to your memory easily, but you don’t want to say them. 

 The plane lands at JFK and he sighs softly, helping you stand. He leads you out to one of the two waiting cars. You glance back at Tony and Sam, but they’re already getting into the other car with their prisoners. 

 “Guess you’re stuck with me.” Bucky says off-handedly. 

 “Other way around.” You say, climbing in. You start to pull the door closed but he catches it easily. 

 “Y/N. I know why you did what you did. I know it wasn’t your fault, or your choice. I can’t imagine what you went through, being forced to do all that. Because I know how you really feel. And right now, yeah, you feel like shit. It’s understandable. And that’s okay. Because I’m gonna be here to help you through it. When the nightmares start, and the panic attacks, and when you feel like you can’t stand under the weight of it all. I’m gonna be here. Because I do love you. And you might not be ready to forgive yourself yet. But I am.” He cups your face, swiping away your tears. 

 “You can’t.” You manage, trying to catch your breath. “Don’t you understand? If it happened once, it can happen again. I’m a liability to you, to Tony, to what you do.”

 “Bullshit. Because next time, you’re just gonna come to me and trust me to keep everyone safe. Do you even understand the amount of people at my disposal? I can call on fifty men right now to go sit on my sister’s place. And another hundred to protect your brother. And still have plenty to protect you.” His hands trail down your neck and his shoulders visibly tense. “I need to get you checked out. Then I can breathe.” He mutters, backing away and shutting your door. He walks around and climbs in next to you, taking your hand. The car starts moving and you stare at him, feeling a bit of wonder at this man. 

 “What?” He asks, a small smile on his face. 

 “You know it’s not because I didn’t trust you, right? There’s nobody I’d trust more.”

 “So, why not come to me?” He frowns. 

 “I was afraid. I was afraid for my brother, for your sister, for you. Bucky, you’ve tried to hard to shed your past, to stop all the hurt and nightmares that Hydra caused. I didn’t want to start that cycle again. You’re so good, you deserve so much. And I hate myself for what I said to you, I truly do. But I couldn’t put you in that position to be used again.”

 “Sweetheart, I would go through all of that just to have you by me again.”

 “You’re certifiable.” You mutter, turning to lean back against him. He wraps his arm around you, under your arms so he doesn’t hurt you, but otherwise remains silent. 

 ***

 There’s a knock on the med room door, and you look up from your crossword puzzle to see Bucky poke his head in. 

 “Aren’t you sick of me yet?” You sigh, setting your book and pen on the side table. 

 “Nope. So, it looks like you’re free to go.” He says happily, rocking back on his heels.

 “I am?” You ask, surprised. 

 “Yup, they said there’s no infections in your burns, and the hairline fracture in your cheekbone healed just fine.” He smiles, crossing the room. 

 You frown as reality settles over you. “Um,” you drop your gaze to your lap.

 “What is it?” He takes your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. 

 It’ll be fine. Tony has given you the best security around. Your apartment is safe. “Nothing. Just dawned on me that you won’t be right down the hall anymore.” You shrug. 

 He grins. “You love me.”

 “You’re an idiot.” You roll your eyes. 

 “True.” He lifts your hand to his mouth, kissing it and inhaling deeply. “Whenever you’re ready, I can take you home.” He promises. 

 “Right.” You let his play with your fingers for a little longer, procrastinating to the fullest extent. “How’s your sister?” You ask and he smiles. 

 “She’s good. Demanding that I bring you to dinner.” His grin widens, as his nose skims along the soft flesh of your wrist. “Threatened to disown me if I didn’t. Apparently, you made quite the impression.”

 “I’m happy to go, with or without you.” You tease and he laughs. 

 “I’m not surprised.” He kisses the back of your hand one more time before setting it on your leg. “Go get dressed, doll. I’ll be right here.” He says.

 You sigh dramatically and swing your feet over the edge of the bed. You can do this. It’ll be okay. 

 ***

 The creaking of the elevator sets your nerves on fire. You clench your jaw as the numbers climb. Only Bucky’s hand in yours keeps you from hyperventilating all together. 

 You can do this. You’re an adult. 

 Bucky unlocks your door for you, holding it open for you to step inside. You hesitate for a moment and his smile tightens. He steps inside first, walking through and opening doors. He makes quick work of checking your whole apartment before coming back to you. 

 “Clear.” He promises. 

 Your vision gets blurry, but you fight the tears, forcing yourself to step across the threshold. How can you trust this place? How can this be home ever again?

 “Let me show you the security system. I know Tony explained it, but it’s a lot to take in.” He says, wrapping you in his big arms. 

 “I’ll say.” Your forehead furrows together. 

 “He wanted you to be safe.” He turns you to the front door. “This camera allows you to see who’s outside. But, it has a camera facing inside, too. You can control that from your phone, so you can see if anyone has broken in.” He explains quietly, burying his nose in your hair. “There’s a panic button in each room. You hit that button and help is on the way.” 

 Bucky takes you through the apartment, showing you exactly how safe Tony has made it for you. And it helps... a bit. 

 But really, what you see is the kitchen chair you were tied to while people you care about were threatened. 

 However, Stark went to a lot of effort. And you know if you don’t at least give it a go, he’s going to whine and complain. 

 Bucky finished his tour back at the front door. This doesn’t feel right. You frown. 

 “Did you wanna stay? I can make dinner.” You offer hopefully. 

 “Sorry, doll. We have a mission.” He says, pulling you close. “I’ll come see you when I get back, okay?”

 You nod, heart sinking. “Stay safe.” You mumble and he gently puts his finger under your chin, tilting your face up. 

 “Can I please, pretty please, have a smile? I need to see it.” He begs and despite how hard you want to resist, you can’t. 

 The corners of your mouth tug up and ride even further in response to his own teasing smile. 

 “There she is.” He sighs happily. “I love you so much. I’ll call you later.” He kisses you slowly, pulling you closer until he breaks away, his eyes slightly unfocused. 

 “Sure you can’t stay?” You sigh. 

 He chuckles. “Positive. I can’t miss this one.” He backs up to the door, holding your hand, unwilling to let go. 

 “You’re not leaving.” You remind him, secretly happy that it’s as hard for him as it is for you.

 “I’m not? Feels like I have already.” He grins. 

 “I love you.” You mumble softly, trying to force the tears to stay in the back where they belong, at least until he leaves. 

 “Just what I needed to hear.” He smiles. 

 You roll your watery eyes and push him out into the hallway. “I don’t need Tony any angrier at me than he already is.” You stick your tongue out and shut the door in his face. Otherwise you’d never be able to let him go. 

 He knocks on the door and you press the speaker. “Go away.”

 “I miss you already.” He says.

 “Don’t make me call Sam.” 

 You can hear his answering laugh and then his footsteps retreating down the hallway.

 You can do this. You have Bucky. Everything else will get better with time, and help, and support. 

 Everything Tag List:

@everythingisoverrated @psyched2b @shreddedparchment @bitsandbobsandstuff @after-avenging-hours @alexblrus @thinkingsofamadwoman @i-dont-want-to-be-called @thefridgeismybestie @fortheloveofallthatsholy @crazychaotic @pleasureoftheguiltiestvariety @redstarstan @justreadingfics @themistsofmyavalon @sebastianstanslefteyebrow @wkemeup @thiccbinch @glide-thru @elliee1497@ellaenchanted91 @part-time-patronus @janeyboo @scarlettwitcher@thirstybitchqueen @xxloki81xx @stuckonjbbarnes @barnesandco​ @geeksareunique​ @nicoleplacee​ @lexshead​ @gambitsqueen​@sebbbystaaan​ @lokisironthrone​ @imanuglywombat​ @also-fangirlinsweden​@ravenesque​ @murdermornings​

[btsslowburnfic]

The Arrangement Ch 12

Series Summary: Desperately in need of money, you answered the questionable ad. AKA-Arranged marriage AU featuring Y/N and Yoongi.

Chapter Summary: Work work and meeting the lead Fashion designer at BigHit Previous Chapter here You arrived back at 1802 and put away the groceries. True to his word, Yoongi had let you carry all the bags back while he stuffed his cold hands deep into his coat. 

“What’s tomorrow’s schedule look like?” He asked, collapsing down onto the couch.

You took out your phone. “You have a meeting with Adora at 10 am. It looks like the conference room on the 24th floor has already been reserved by Jiwoo. Other than that, not much. You have your afternoon blocked out.”

“Cool.” He scrolled through his phone.

You walked over to the refrigerator and pulled out your leftovers. “Do you want anything while I’m in here?” You asked.

“No. I don’t eat a lot.” He responded. 

You put your food on a plate and positioned yourself at the barstool. “Do you know the person who is retiring on Saturday?” You asked right before taking a bite of your food.

“Just casually. He’s been here forever. He was BPD’s assistant for a long time and then took a less intense position these past couple of years. I think he works in the gallery as a docent.”

“There’s a gallery? Jesus, this building has everything.” You said amazed.

“It has a lot. I haven’t been. They change the exhibits every few months.”

You took your phone out and researched the gallery a bit. How interesting. You added your meeting with Jimin to your calendar and added a few other personal items for next week. 

You got up and rinsed your plate and then set the coffee maker for the morning. “Alright dude, I’ll see you tomorrow. Thanks for the groceries.” 

He looked up from his phone. “You’re already going to bed? I thought you were a night owl?” 

You shrugged. “ I think I’m making up for years of sleep deprivation honestly. I’m sure I’ll be back to it in no time. Plus you know, mild panic attack earlier.”

“Ah right. Sorry about that again. Good night,” He said.

You gave a small smile and realized about halfway down the hallway that your heart was racing. Hey. Calm down. You’re the one in charge here. 

Yoongi got up from the couch. He wouldn’t be tired for hours. He would normally go back to the studio, but after your confession earlier he didn’t want to leave you alone in case Jin’s crazy girlfriend was still around and going to start screaming again. He sighed and went up to the loft area, pulling out his laptop. He could work some from here he supposed. 

----------

You woke up and threw on your robe. Shuffling out to the kitchen you saw that coffee was missing from the pot, indicating that Yoongi had already started his day. You grabbed a mug and headed back to your room to get ready. 

When you arrived at your desk you were pleasantly surprised to see some stationary had been left on your desk, as well as a small plant. Huh, cute. You sat down and answered the usual round of emails, confirmed events, and made a list of things you would need to check with Yoongi before answering. 

Y/N: Hey! I have some questions I need to ask you before I answer some emails. Are you available? Also do you need me to attend the 10am with you? 

Y: come in. 

You smiled and walked around the corner to the studio. You tried to turn the handle and it was locked. You smirked and keyed in the code. 

"Good morning," you said, closing the door behind you. 

"Did you sleep OK?" he asked, not turning around from the computer monitors. 

"I did. Thanks. I didn't bring coffee, would you like me to go grab some?"

"No, it’s fine." He responded. 

You walked closer and perched yourself on the edge of the couch closest to him. You sat down your pen and paper. He was clearly in the middle of something. 

He pushed a few more buttons on the console and hit play, a beat suddenly filled the studio. It sounded good to you, but all you knew about music was that you liked to dance to it. You watched as he listened to it with his entire body. He hit stop. 

"Ugh… It's still not right. Fuck." he slid his hands down his jeans 

"I can come back later if it's better for you. I didn't want to interrupt." 

He spun around in the chair. "No. You're fine. What did you need to ask me?" 

“Namjoon sent a list of artists who have expressed an interest in collaborating with you. He wants you to pick your top 3. Here," you handed him the list. 

Yoongi took the paper and looked over it boredly. So many people were just interested in collaboration for their own sake; using him to get their music recognized. People always fucking using him. He could feel himself starting to get angry and took a deep breath. 

"Hey. We can do this later, ok? What do you need from me for your meeting? Anything?"  You could tell this was bothering him but had no idea why. 

Yoongi looked up at you. Weren't you also using him? For the money? The idea flashed across his mind for a moment before he told himself to shut up. 

He cleared his throat. “Sorry. Here. " He got a pen and circled 3.

You took the paper back. "Oooo Post Malone? That would be sick. I actually haven't really listened to your music yet," you mused as you looked at the other two artists he had circled.

Yoongi felt himself relaxing more as you began to talk. "No?" he made a tch sound, "You'll have to listen sometime." 

"Oh yeah?” Your eyes flicked back up to him. “Make me a mixtape. Your ‘best of’." 

Yoongi rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly feeling like he was in middle school. "You want me to make you a mixtape?" 

"Yep." You smiled. "OK. Your meeting with Adora is in fifteen minutes. What do you need?" 

He thought for a few seconds. "I just need my laptop and some headphones. You don't need to come, she and I will just be listening to music. If we end up back down here I'll let you know." Yoongi got up to start collecting his things. 

"Alright. Sounds good. I'll see you later." You let yourself out and emailed Namjoon Yoongi's choices. You watched as he walked past you to the elevators. 

Yoongi tried to make sure he didn't look at you as he walked past. He didn't want to seem like a creep. But last night, the more he thought about what you had told him, the more upset he got about it. While his family wasn't supportive of his goals, theirs was from a place of concern. And they were never violent or even the type to yell. 

Yoongi knew there was nothing he could have done. He didn't even live in the same city as you growing up. He didn't know you when you guys were kids. But he found himself wishing he did. That there could have been a way for him to have protected you from that. He sighed, remembering that this morning the first thing he thought about was you, and if you were safe. What was happening to him? He got on the elevator and headed on up to his meeting. 

You responded to Jiwoo's email regarding personalized stationery. You had selected your initials with the Genius Lab logo in the bottom. The sample version you designed made you feel proud. You had asked if Yoongi also had stationary and he did not. So you ordered some for him as well. 

Before you knew it, your stomach was growling. As though your mind was being read your phone pinged. 

J: There's Food trucks out front. Let's goooo! 

YN: what kind? 

JK: I'm stuck at a shoot, grab me something and bring it to the 11th floor and I'll love you forever 

YN: Is this a group chat? 

J: welcooooome. Meet me in the lobby! 

YN: Ok. 

You took the elevator down and saw Jimin’s beautiful blonde locks from across the lobby. 

"Happy Friday, gorgeous!" he greeted you. "On Fridays food trucks sometimes park along this street." He explained, gesturing through the glass windows to several food trucks waiting. 

"Oh my God. Is that a crepe truck?" you asked. 

"Yep. Let's get a few different things and share. V just texted and he's saving us a seat in the cafeteria." 

All of a sudden you wanted to cry. You had friends that texted you and wanted to eat with you? This was too good to be true. What was the catch? You found yourself wondering. 

"Hey. YN. Are you ok? Here, we can use the company card if you're worried since you just started here." Jimin tried to guess what might be bothering you. 

"What?" you asked, confused for a minute. "No. I'm sorry. I'm just so happy you guys included me, I was frozen with happiness." 

Jimin laughed. "You are too cute. I don't know why Namjoon thinks you're secretly a dominatrix". He walked over towards the exit. 

"Wait what? Your boss called me that?" you chased after him.

Jimin kept laughing "No no. Just how he's glad someone's finally whipping Yoongi into shape. I added the dominatrix part." The two of you lined up for crepes. 

You felt a little annoyed. You weren’t making Yoongi do anything. "Pshhh, whatever. I'm just nice to him. I ask him nicely to do things and he does them if he wants to." 

"Sure, sure." Jimin teased. "Hey let's split up so we can get food twice as fast." 

"Sounds good," you agreed. 

You felt your phone vibrate and you took it out. 

Y: Hey. Still in the meeting. We won't be breaking for lunch and I don't want you to wait on me. Not that you would. But just in case. 

Aww how nice of him. 

YN:OK, thanks! Make sure to eat something this afternoon. You didn't eat dinner last night. 

Y: k 

You ordered several crepes and waited for Jimin to meet you back by the lobby entrance. He had gone to a kimchi truck , ordering many different food items as well. You made your way to the 3rd floor, home to the cafeteria and gym. It seemed so evil to have these two on the same floor you thought.

You guys walked in with Jimin looking around for V. Having found him, the two of you walked over. He already had a sizeable amount of food on the table. 

“Hey guys.” He smiled, reaching out to take some of the food from your hands.

“This one is for Yoongi,” You said as you sat down and placed one of the containers next to you, away from the center.

“That’s so sweet of you.” V said.

“It’s nothing. Oh, aren’t you supposed to take food to your other friend?” You asked Jimin who had just returned from grabbing napkins and chopsticks.

“Yeah, he’s still in the shoot. We’ll just take him a few bites from each dish. You haven’t met Jungkook yet have you?”

The three of you started divvying up food onto bowls and plates. “No. I’ve seen pictures of him in magazines and stuff, but I haven’t had the honor yet.”

“He’s a good kid.” V said.

“He’s a grown ass man.” Jimin retorted.

V rolled his eyes. “The point remains. He’s coming to the party on Saturday so I’m sure you’ll meet him then.”

Silence filled the table as you all started to shovel food into your faces.

“So what dorm did they put you in?” Jimin asked through bites of food.

Shit. You did not want to tell them that you were living with Yoongi. For so many reasons. But you didn’t want to lie to your new friends. 

“I’m in a private room. I think since Yoongi keeps unconventional hours they wanted me to not bother the other girls.” You said and then stuffed a crepe into your mouth.

“That makes sense. A lot of the models are also in private smaller apartments too since we have to fly in and out of the country at strange hours,” V said. “Jimin and I live across the hall from each other on the 20th floor.”

“That’s how we became such good friends. We kept running into each other on the way to the gym and cafe. It was…” Jimin took a deep breath and dramatically paused, “DESTINY.” He reached out his hand. V laughed and the linked pinkies for a split second.

“Alright, I have to get back to work. I’ll see you later Jimin. See you tomorrow Y/N.” Tae said as he gathered up some of this trash and stood up.

“Later.” You waved.

Jimin packed up the rest of the food and some utensils to deliver to JK. “Alright, let’s go deliver some lunches.” 

The two of you exited the cafeteria. “Ugh. Why is the gym next to the cafeteria.” You lamented once more.

“I know. In the morning they make bread and it’s all I can smell when I work out. I hate it.” Jimin stepped onto the elevator with you following. “What did you get Yoongi?”

“Kimchi crepe. I had one as well. It was good. If he doesn’t want it, I’ll eat it.”

The elevator arrived at the 11th floor. “Alright babe, see you in a little while.”

“Thanks again for the lunch invite.” You smiled as the doors closed. You sighed and took out your phone.

YN: I grabbed you some food from the food trucks. I’m getting ready to put it in the break room unless you want it somewhere else. I have a 2pm meeting but will be available by text. 

You dropped the food off and stopped by your desk. You answered more emails and soon it was almost time to go meet Jimin again. You went back to the apartment and changed into leggings and a tank top. You threw a sweater on over it and headed down to the 6th floor. 

The first thing you noticed about the 6th floor looked like a rainbow vomited all over it. The colors were all over the place, you looked around for Jimin and not seeing him you sat down on a large orange sofa under a large graffiti-style painting that said JHOPE FASHION.

You heard the clack of heels a few seconds later. 

"Yoongi's assistant! " A voice happily shouted, belonging to the man who had escorted you to your apartment a few nights ago. Today he was dressed in an immaculate pinstripe suit that looked normal, save for the psychedelic dress shirt poking out from under his jacket and the lime green socks you could barely see. 

You stood up, "Hey. Nice to see you again." 

"I'm so sorry. I forgot your name." He said.

"Ah. Same actually. I'm YN." 

" Hoseok. Jimin is running a bit late but he told me you would be stopping by  Come along." he quickly turned and headed down the bright hallway. 

You followed him down the kaleidoscope-inspired hallway and entered a bright open room. There were several other people in there. The room was lined with mirrors and pedestals. People who you could only assume were models were having alterations done. 

You followed Hoseok over to one of the empty pedestals where he stopped to turn and look at you.

"Alright, do you have other clothes? Because I can not see your figure with that sweater on." He got straight to the point. 

"Oh. Yes of course." You awkwardly removed your garment. He took the sweater from you and sat it on a small purple chair.

"Stand." He gestured to a small pedestal and offered you his hand 

You climbed up on the raised platform while Hoseok studied your body. It felt invasive and awkward, but at the same time, normal because everyone else in the room was having the same thing done. You felt almost like a model for a few seconds.

"Hey girl. You're getting the full JHope experience today I see." You heard a familiar voice. You turned your head and saw Jimin walking over holding some Boba tea. 

He handed one to Hoseok. He looked up at you, "Sorry. No drinks near the merch." 

"She's not getting the full JHope experience, I would never do that with Yoongi's assistant." Hoseok teased Jimin. You weren't quite sure what he was talking about, but you could take a guess. 

He continued his lap around you, eyeing you predatorily. He paused for a moment, staring at your backside more intently. 

" Hey, get away from my ass." You scolded. Jimin lost his shit and started cackling. 

Suddenly very serious, Hoseok remarked, "I have to figure out which cut of jeans will look the best in that ass so I'm going to look at it. If you want me to style you, you have to be prepared, Y/N." 

"Sorry, he's a little intense. But he also just said he's not going to try to sleep with you, so your ass is safe." Jimin said, having regained some of his composure. 

You scowled. "Oh yea? Is that what the full experience is?" 

"You two need to quiet yourselves." Hoseok was back to looking at you.

You blinked for a second, suddenly putting two and two together. 

"You're THE JHope of JHOPE fashion house." 

Hosoek’s eyes flicked up to you. "One and the same."

JHope fashion was known for its mixture of traditional clothing with bold and colorful patterns. 

"Well then, please sir. Look at my ass." You teased. 

To your surprise, he started to laugh and clapped his hands. "You are funny. OK. Step down. You and Soojin are about the same body type. Let me pull her wardrobe and see what we have." He walked back towards a bright green door and disappeared behind it. 

Jimin smiled while looking around the room. “So. What do you think?”

“I feel like I’m in a Kdrama to be honest.” You responded. “Small town girl moves to big city. Boy feels bad for her and gives her clothes. Girl begins new life. You know the genre.”

“Haha yeah. Are you from a small town?”

“No. I’m from Busan and I’ve lived in Seoul for the past 7 years.” 

Hoseok walked out the door carrying a few clothing items. “Here. I don’t have time to do alterations or anything but take these home and try them on. There are samples of different styles of clothes: jeans, different styles of skirts and dresses, shirts, jackets. For Saturday try on some of the printed dresses. It’s a barbecue restaurant so if you spill sauce you want it to be on a pattern so it blends in better and doesn’t stand out.” 

“Ok, thanks.” you stepped down and took the hangers from him. “When should I return these by?”

“These are marked as trash. So if they don’t fit you, you can donate them. If they fit you, keep them.”

“Really?” You asked, still in disbelief. “Like. For free. Just take these?”

“Yep.” Hoeseok said. “Just don’t go around telling everyone in the building. We get a tax write off for defects so we can’t have all of the clothing walking off. This is because Jimin said you’re cool.” 

You looked over at Jimin who was blushing slightly. “Thanks Jimin.”

“It’s nothing. Hey, do you have my clothes ready?” He asked, seeming to remember that he also came here for something.

“No. JK’s shoot went over. He’s been working out too much and he busted out of one of his shirts. We had to remake one on the fly and it took my free time. I’ll bring it by tonight.”

Your eyes bugged out slightly and you tried to not imagine the model who you had only seen photos of busting out of a shirt. It didn’t work though.

“You're so lucky.” Jimin pouted.

“I was too busy being annoyed to appreciate his physique.” Hoseok retorted. “Anyways, I need to get back to work. I’ll see you two tomorrow. Now shoo.” He gestured over to the door.

You grabbed your sweater off the chair and headed back towards the elevators with your new stash in tow. Next stop: your closet.  NEXT CHAPTER @lidda​  @anpanman-sonyeondan   @firefairy1  @cuteipat​  @sugaslittlekookies​  @janeelizabeth1216​ @deeepvibes​ @gxldenhunny​

[frenchbread-writes]

Unexpected Reunion| {Enji Todoroki/Endeavor}

@unfaithfulmemories: Hi, I see that you are taking requests. Could I ask for an Endeavor x male reader Pro-hero that started dating Enji during their UA years but then Enji ghosted the reader and after a few years the reader decides to go on a dating app and reconnects with Enji without knowing it's him and it ends with a passionate night? Maybe a time skip where they are married and the reader adopts the Todoroki kids under his name

I MOVED ACCOUNTS

I’m so happy that you asked me to write about endeavor since he’s literally one of my favs

The story’s ending might be a bit eh but I’m proud of the overall story so I hope you still like it😊😊

Pairing: Endeavor x Male!Reader

Words: 3.6k

Warnings: mentions of abuse, implied NSFW

Requests: Closed

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

When Hawks suggested that he should consider meeting someone after being single for an admittedly long amount of time, Enji promptly shut the smaller man down. Between trying to maintain his duties as the #1 Hero and fixing the rift he caused within his family, he had no time to even think of trying to enter the dating scene.

The #2 Hero still tried to convince him until He said how Endeavor was a quote: “Lonely old man who needed to get some.”

After that, the larger man snapped, glaring at the winged hero. Flames growing larger in anger as he growled out how “his love life was none of Hawks’ business” and then stomped out of the room.

But now there he was The Endeavor, sitting in his bedroom after his shift, on his phone staring at the dating app sign up screen, blushing. Cursing himself for acting so childish he finally started filling out his information into the required boxes.

It started off easy enough just the usual information:

Name: Enji Todoroki

Username: Endeavor#1

Gender, email, number, and password.

Though it was the last question that made him pause.

Sexual preference

It should be obvious, he liked women, but even having said that his finger still hovered over the screen. It didn’t feel right. He thought of his previous relationships, which was admittedly a small amount to remember, and.. Nothing.

He had felt no attraction to the people he had been with previously, even thinking of a woman’s body did nothing for him if anything, he felt the opposite of how he thought he should. But there was that one time in UA where he experimented, he dated another man it was only for a little while, about 2 months. He couldn’t remember his name but he could clearly remember those (e/c) eyes and how they made him feel. He felt heat prickle the top of his ears and spread down to the back of his neck.

He swallowed thickly and idled there for a few more moments staring at the screen before he took a deep breath and pressed the male option and pressed sign up before he could change his mind.

Now all that’s left is setting up his profile.

Description, he thought for a moment before typing:

“Looking for a romantic relationship with someone who can be independent and not a pushover.”

Now for photos.. how do you take decent photos?

He went through other profiles to see what kind of photos he should take.

The most common ones were selfies and.. shirtless mirror pictures. It’s ridiculous and he should delete the damn app and curse Hawks for giving him the idea in the first place.

But here he was, standing in his bathroom in front of the large mirror with his hero costume on flexing for the camera, the next few photos were of him with his flames turned off and without a shirt, and the last pictures were of him in a suit that hugged his body in all of the right places and showed off his muscles through the stretched fabric around his arms, chest, and thighs.

He stared at the photos he took and deleted the worst ones, being left with about 4 photos.

“Good enough.” He muttered as he uploaded them to his profile

now all that's left is to explore potential candidates worthy of being in a relationship with him.

Over the next few days not one person on the app piqued his interest in the slightest, and the ones who were brave enough to message him first were disregarded, they weren’t of any interest or not worthy of being spared even a second of his time.

He sighed as he shut off his phone and flopped onto his bed, dissatisfied and disappointed by his lack of success. He drifted off to sleep hoping to have more success.

He did not have more success. The men he met up with were either easily intimidated and had no backbone or were able to stand their ground and look him in the eye but immediately made their sleazy intentions clear, which is not what he was looking for and it clearly states in his description what the type of relationship he is interested in.

It wasn’t until a few more days passed he got a notification from the app as he walked out of his agency saying he was matched with another person, he grumbled and prepared to swipe it away but the name caught his eye, it seemed familiar but where had he seen it before?

He didn’t get a chance to think about it when he received a message.

“OMG Enji it’s actually you!!”

Such casual use of his first name threw him off, and another ping alerted a new message.

“It’s me (Y/N) we dated in back in high school!!”

That’s why the name sounded so familiar, it was you the male he dated in high school.

He stared at his phone for a moment, all he had to do was respond with something kind.

“Yes I remember you being a thorn in my side”

‘Why am I like this?’ he thought

“Is that why you were an asshole and radio silent on me?”

He blushed, oh right, he was so obsessed with becoming number one that he cut all ties with anyone he deemed useless at helping him achieve his place at the top.

Thinking about it, that wasn’t one of his best choices.

“I apologize for my actions in the past I hope you can forgive my childish behavior, you have every right to be angry with me”

“I was kidding you dummy but if you really want to make it up to me you could look up from your phone screen.”

His brow arched in confusion at the message, look up why would he- oh.

He didn’t know what to do, you were standing there smirking, the sight making heat spread across his cheeks, you were stunning.

You had changed a lot since he had seen you at UA, your muscles are larger and more defined, scars littered your arms ranging from small light scars to large dark ones, gained from years of working with machines and different kinds of equipment no doubt.

You raised a brow “So are you just gonna stand there checking me out or are you going to take me out on a date?”

He jolted and cleared his throat, “I apologize, you surprised me, I wasn’t expecting to see you so soon.”

You sighed “You’re still as stiff as you were back in high school, we need to do something about that.”

What did you mean by that? He wouldn’t have to wait long to find out, as you fished a pen out of your pocket, grabbed his hand and scribbled something on the palm of his hand.

“Here’s my number call me later.” You winked before walking off.

He was stunned, you were just a normal guy who asked him to call you, so why was his heart pounding in his chest, palms sweaty, and an extreme heat covering his face that had nothing to do with his quirk?

After he composed himself Enji took his phone out and added your contact, now he had to wait until later that day to contact you.

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

After the encounter, the few hours that remained in his shift that day seemed to drag on forever. He was antsy to end the day, only a few more minutes, all he had to do was finish his reports then he could change and go home. That was easier said than done but he managed.

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

When he made it to his room he immediately whipped out his phone fumbling with it before opening a conversation with you.

“Hello, it’s Enji”

Not even a minute later you replied

“Hey! You ready to take me out?”

You were so direct and straight to the point, it was amazing.

“Yes, where shall I meet you?”

You sent him the location and time.

“8:30 Don’t be late ;)”

It was 6:00 so he had time to prepare, but as he sat there staring at his messages he couldn’t help a smile from creeping onto his face.

“So who were you talking to that’s making you smile at your phone?” The soft voice of his daughter made him jolt, smile immediately slipping from his features.

“N-nothing!” He yelled

She chuckled and prepared to leave the room, but before she could leave the doorway, Enji called out for her.

He blushed “W-wait! Actually, I-I need your.. help with something”

She turned to see a flushed Endeavor staring at his feet.

“I need your help looking for something to wear for a d-date”

She was taken aback, him going on a date, it was.. unexpected to say the least, but she couldn’t help the warm smile from tugging at her lips. He’s finally doing something positive and trying to move past the negativity.

Fuyumi sighed “Ok I’ll help”

He looked up to her grateful and gave a silent thanks, now he had to get ready to meet you near the train station and start the date.

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

Which is where he found himself wearing one of his casual button-down shirts and form-fitting jeans. ‘I hope this is good enough’ he thought, glancing at his appearance as he waited for you to show up.

It was now around 30 minutes after you were supposed to be there, Enji now tapping his foot in impatience, nervousness now replaced with annoyance. Grumbling “How dare he make me wait this long” under his breath.

He whipped his phone out about to send you a message when he heard. “Hey! Sorry, I’m late!” Your voice sounding sheepish. He huffed “You better have a good explanation as for why you kept me waiting” he stared at you expectantly.

You chuckled and said, “Well I simply lost track of time”

“Now let’s get going we’re wasting daylight” taking his wrist you started dragging him off to your destination.

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

The two of you walked for about 10 minutes before you stopped. “This place is amazing, I come here in the morning to get my coffee”

You gestured to a small cafe before walking in. “A lot of heroes usually come by here, it’s very lowkey and they give heroes a discount!”

he glanced around the interior taking note of the small number of people present.

After the two of you ordered you found a booth to sit and began to talk, well, you did most of the talking. You didn’t chat about anything in particular just catching up about what happened after high school. This went on for about an hour after that Enji slowly started to open up, talking more and eventually, he began smiling and laughing with you.

But sadly the date had to end eventually, that left you with Enji walking you home. You couldn’t help but notice from the corner of your eye that Enji was glancing at your hand more than usual, so you took initiative and took his hand in yours. In response, he stiffened up his face flushing, and grip a bit too tight you couldn’t help but tease him.

You looked up at him, winked, and brought his hand up to your lips and left a gentle peck on the back of his hand. Enji’s face burned as the two of you walked the rest of your way to your apartment, hands still Intertwined.

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

Walking up to your apartment you and Enji look at each other.

You sigh “So I guess this is my stop”

Enji offered a small nod in response and awkwardly opened his arms for a hug.

Chuckling you accepted his embrace, soaking up his body heat hug lasting longer than usual. After about a minute you pull away from the hug your arms still around his torso, look at Enji and smile, a real smile and not one of your cocky ones “This was the best date I’ve had in a while, thanks”

Enji blushed “I had a great time as well and I hope we can do this again soon”

But as he said that he couldn’t stop staring at your lips you were so close and they looked so enticing, so he took a deep breath, steeled his nerves and took a chance and leaned in connecting your lips with a gentle kiss.

You weren’t expecting Enji to kiss you, so you froze for just a moment before kissing back, his lips were a bit chapped and it was obvious that he hasn’t done this in a while but to you it was great.

The kiss was innocent enough but as the kiss kept going it began to escalate. You felt something soft and warm press against your bottom lip you parted your lips and welcomed his tongue that entered your mouth. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him closer, pressing up against his solid chest he responded by grabbing your waist and doing the same.

He had you pressed against the door panting when you heard it, the laughter you looked around him to see your nosey neighbor's kid was messing around at the park that was direct across from your apartment. You didn’t want your neighbor budding into your love life because her kid saw you kissing a stranger so you pulled away from Enji and pulled out your key to unlock the door.

The two of you barely closed the door before Enji was attacking your lips again. Not wasting a moment the two of you stumbled to your bedroom, a mix of heated moans, clumsy footsteps, and groping hands, the two of you discarding articles of clothing until the two of you were in just underwear.

Enji picked you up and pressed you down onto the mattress kissing down your jaw down to your neck and chest leaving red marks a he went.

He was prepared to be the dominant one until you somehow instantly flipped the two of you around making it where you were on top smirking at him and holding a condom in between your teeth.

You may be the one on his receiving end but Enji knew that you were far from being submissive for him, as you tore open the wrapper with your teeth and looked at him like he was your prey.

He was in for a long night.

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

Waking up the next morning the first thing Enji did was to sit up and stretch until he felt the familiar pop of his joints, he looked around his surroundings and noticed that you weren’t in the room with him. Your clothes were missing from the floor and a pair of clothes were neatly folded on the foot of the bed for him.

Quietly he got dressed and went to open the door to exit the room, immediately he was hit by the smell of eggs and bacon.

Walking into the kitchen he blushed as he caught sight of you standing in front of the stove, wearing nothing but a T-shirt tucked into short shorts. They did nothing to hide all of the marks that covered your neck and thighs left behind from the night before.

He couldn’t help but admire your beauty and the way your hips swayed as you quietly hummed a tune under your breath.

“It’s rude to stare you know,” you say over your shoulder

He jumped “S-sorry I didn’t mean to”

You smiled at him and playfully rolled your eyes “It’s fine and stop being so stiff around me you’ve seen me naked and I don’t let just anyone do that ya know”

You turn off the stove and spin around with two plates of bacon and eggs in your hands “now sit, I made breakfast”

Enji sat at the spot at your small dining table that you prepared for him and began eating.

You rubbed the back of your neck “I know it’s not the best but it’s the only thing I know how to make without needing adult supervision”

“It tastes perfectly fine, thank you for making it” Enji defended

You opened your mouth to deny it but his sincere expression made the words dry up and all you could do was let out a sigh and smile back at him.

Enji wanted to see that smile every day.

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

After breakfast was finished and everything was put in the sink you and Enji sat on your couch, drank tea, and talked. Mostly just chatting until the conversation about being in a relationship came up.

“(Y/N) there is something I need to talk to you about before any of this continues” Enji looked directly into your eyes.

The two of you held eye contact until he looked down and sighed.

He began telling you of his past, of his goal the reason he left you before, the stuff he’s done to his son and the emotional and physical abuse he’s put the entirety of his family through. Not once did you interrupt him, you let him speak and reveal everything he had done.

After he was finished speaking he couldn’t face you, you must’ve been disgusted with him not that he would blame you. He expected you to reject him, tell him to leave not wanting anything to do with a monster like him.

But that’s not what happened, instead, you reached forwards and cupped his face in your hands and placed a delicate kiss to his lips.

You pulled away “Thank you for telling me, what you did was terrible and you deserve any punishment that you receive.” You paused “But I can see you are trying to change and become a better person.”

You looked him directly in the eyes “And that’s all that matters is that you’re trying and as long as you’re trying I will stand by your side.”

After your speech, Enji only noticed the tears falling from his eyes when you started wiping them away, he latched his arms around your torso pressing his face into your chest, shaking, and sobbing out a chorus of “thank you’s.”

You simply smiled and held him as he cried, you didn’t care that he was staining your shirt with his tears instead, you rubbed circles on his back, placed soft kisses on the crown of his head, and whispered that everything was gonna be okay.

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

Ever since that day you and Enji have been on several more dates taking it slow and getting to know each other.

It was about a year later when he invited you over to his home, that was odd considering he hasn't invited you over before because he hasn’t told his kids about you, his daughter Fuyumi being the exception.

Walking up to Enji’s door, your heart was beating a mile a minute it was the first time you were going to meet his children and you were nervous as hell.

Taking a deep breath you lifted a hand and knocked firmly on the door. Not even a minute later the door opened with Enji greeting you with a quick kiss, a thank you for coming before he pulled you inside.

“So I have informed them of someone I wanted them to meet but I haven't told them who exactly they’re meeting” he whispered

As soon as you walked into the living room 3 pairs of eyes were on you, it was an intense staring contest between the four of you.

Enji cleared his throat and gestured to the smaller man “So everyone this is (Y/N) my boyfriend, I hope all of you can get along.”

You took that as your cue to speak “Hey guys nice to finally meet you!” You gave them one of your signature smiles and slap Enji’s back “This loser can’t stop talking about you.”

Enji glared at you “H-hey!” His kids snorted

You ignored him opting to sit next to the boy with half red and half white hair “You must be Shouto” you pinch his cheek lightly “You’re just as adorable as the time I saw you at the sports festival!” He simply blushed and let out a small “thank you.”

Next, you looked to the taller boy with white hair and raised your hand for a high-five “You’re Natsuo!” The boy gave your hand a gentle slap “I love your shirt by the way” you gestured to his shirt that said “FRONT” on it. He gave you a smile “Thanks, finally someone who appreciates my sense of fashion, unlike somebody.” He glanced over to Fuyumi.

You gave her a gentle smile and held out your hand for her to shake “It’s very nice to meet you Fuyumi, I hope I’ve made a good impression on you so far?”

She chucked “Yes you have (Y/N)”

After that you had pleasant conversations with the siblings, getting along with them even Shouto seemed to perk up when you spoke to him.

Enji watched as you effortlessly seemed to make them warm up to you, fitting in so easily it went much better than he thought it would.

He couldn’t help but stare at the empty space on your finger on your left hand and feel the shape of the small velvet box that was at the bottom of his pocket.

Soon his children will have another father, the Todoroki family will have a new member and everyone can take a step forward.

He’ll have to wait until the time is right but for now, he is content with watching his family bond with his boyfriend and future husband.

[liliesoftherain]

I'm back again with a daddy bakugou prompt but I'm asking you to break hearts now. Daughter in this scenario is working as a intern in bakugous agency and they go out on patrol. However a villain attacks and bakugou tells his daughter to go cause he's not going to make it and he tells daughter reader to tell her mom he loves her. But the daughter jumps in front "tell her yourself" and saves her dad. Please end it with daughter surviving. Fluffy but with angst.

A/N: So wow.. This was over 5000 words.. I got carried away whoops. I hope you guys like this, I tried adding more of the fight scene because well, I wanted to practice because I’m not good at them. Also, let me know if you guys like the way I described the quirks, was it too much? I feel like I gave the bad guys ordinary quirks, but what can you do. I’M SORRY I FEEL LIKE I COULD’VE DONE SO MUCH BETTER AHHH. Enjoy y’all!

Title: For the Love of a Daughter

Pairing: Dad!Katsuki Bakugou x Mom!Reader

Katsuki Bakugou!:

“Have fun at your internship today, Bakugou-chan!” 

“Thanks! Enjoy school for me.”

“Not likely, you’re the one who gets the day off while I’m stuck here!”

“Not my fault! Find an agency!” She laughed at her friend as she walked out of the dorms.

The young girl made her way to the Ground Zero Hero Agency that was located nearby U.A. High. It was a convenient commute, and an even more convenient place intern at. Her blonde hair secured high and red eyes set in a determined gaze as she walked through the front doors, being so well known she didn’t even have to show her badge to the lady at the front desk.

“Good morning Akari-chan!” The young woman smiled brightly, waving her through.

“Good morning to you, Chizue-san.” Your daughter smiled in return, walking forward towards the elevator.

After pressing the desired floor and heading to the locker rooms, Akari had gotten changed into her hero gear and made her way to the lead hero’s office. She knocked twice, before opening the door to see him at his desk.

“Still doing paperwork old man?” 

“Watch your mouth brat, I’m almost done.” Katsuki tsk’d, clicking his tongue to the roof of his mouth as he spared his daughter a glance before looking back at the computer screen.

“What are you going to have me do today pops.”

“It’s Ground Zero while you’re here, how many times do I have to tell you that.”

“Yeah yeah, Ground Zero-Jiji.”

“OI-”

“C’mon dad really, am I going to be able to go on patrol today? I haven’t been in for a week!”

He smirked at her, standing once he submitted the last of this morning's work.

“Yeah brat, a patrol with your favorite hero.”

“Deku is my favorite hero-”

“Not funny, shithead.” He snapped, flicking her forehead as he walked by her. She huffed in false hurt, internally laughing at how she could get him so riled up, even when he knew she was joking.

“Because of that, I’ll have you file all the paperwork yourself when we get back.” Katsuki snickered, pressing the button to head down to the main lobby.

“You can’t do that,” Akari crossed her arms with a light glare, “I’m not allowed to handle paperwork, I’m a second year dad. Did you forget due to your old ass age?”

Entering the elevator Katsuki flicked her forehead once more, this time putting more force.

“Ow-”

“Watch your fucking mouth, I remember perfectly thank you. This old man could kick your ass. Plus, as long as I supervise, I can make you do whatever fucking paperwork I want.”

“I’ll tell mom on you.” Akari crossed her arms, nose pointed in the air.

“Do it brat, she won’t take your side.” Katsuki mocked her look without even realizing it.

The fact that him and his kid were so similar was almost scary, it surely gave you enough headaches to last a lifetime.

The doors open with a chime and the two headed out, punching out by the front desk. The system was there to keep record that they were going to be away from the agency on a patrol. It was a handy system, letting other pros of the office know what you were doing in case an emergency happened.

“Have a safe patrol, Ground Zero, Surge!”

“Thank you.” The two replied in sync, walking out of the building.

The two left their playful bickering inside, turning on a much more serious demeanor while on patrol. Katsuki wanted to teach his daughter everything he knew, because before long she would be her own hero taking her place to come out on top.

Nothing but the greatest for his kid.

The patrol started normal, and if Akari wasn’t as well groomed in the line of hero work, she’d dare say boring. However, she knew better than to think of it that way. 

Peace may be tranquil, it may be calm and still, but it was never boring.

It was a blessing.

However today, was not one of those blessed days.

They had already been out for almost a good thirty minutes, interacting with civilians and helping with smaller issues, when screams were heard. The two quickly rushed to the scene, smelling the smoke before they could even see it.

Large flames danced along collapsed buildings, civilians were running wild, desperately trying to get away from whatever had caused the situation in the first place.

“Go help with an evacuation, make your priority the safety of the citizens!”

“Yes sir!” Akari knew better than to argue about wanting to help with the villains who were making the scene, the civilians were the priority.

Katsuki had charged forward, assessing the situation to see that there were 3 villains and their main target seemed to be unknown. It wasn’t money, there was a bank right down the street. They were standing closer to a now burning abandoned building, possibly there just for a harmful deeds with no goal. Or, they were causing a distraction for something bigger.

Katsuki enclosed on the three, quickly blasting an explosion to try to quickly knock them off their feet. However, they must have seen him becoming because all three immediately countered the attack. That gave Katsuki a moment to analyze their quirks, and how big of a nuisance they’d be.

The female of the group seemed to be able to manipulate shadows, he could tell as she manipulated what looked like to be her own as a shield to block his attack. He noticed she didn’t bother using any other shadows, even though there were plenty around her that were larger than her own, so he figured that was the extent of her power. The amount of shadow she could manipulate seemed to be as small as she was. Either way, it could be used not only as a defensive quirk, but depending on how she could handle her quirk, a good offensive one as well. 

There was a man with a mask over his face, bending the air around him to make the attack head over his head. Wind was always a pain to deal with, even if someone wasn’t as skilled with it in turn making the quirk weaker. It was hard to aim calculated attacks without having them be blown away. Katsuki knew he’d had to keep an eye out on that one.

The last man, who looked to be the leader, took the blow straight on. His skin changing to that what was hardened in what looked to be steel, most likely high carbon steel, seeing as there were no scratches or abrasions even with the high impact explosion. He may be the pack lead for a reason, most things would bounce off of him, no damage, no injury, less mess. However, there was a thing about hard materials were also very brittle- if he kept on his toes, not allowing this guy to take a break and continued to hit him with hard impacts, he’d either let his armor down himself or finally break.

Katsuki readied for battle as the two underlings rushed forward, attacking him simultaneously. Katsuki was able to use enough force to send the shadow user back a few feet into some debris, before blocking a punch from the main man himself. The hardened punch caused him to grunt, the force from the punch was almost as much as Eijirou’s.

Almost.

Katsuki sent an explosion from both palms to each guy, countering immediately with physical attacks. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, the man with the wind quirk was causing him more problems than he’d like. He had a good sense of control on his quirk and it was difficult to find openings as not only his quirk, but his attacked were being pushed back because of it.

The fight lasted with neither one side or the other going down, the shadow user came up from behind as she recovered, almost knocking Katsuki off of his balance. He was growing irritated, these lowlifes were actually putting up a fight-where were the other pros in the vicinity?

Where was Akari.

Like she read his mind, his daughter quickly came from nowhere it seemed, surprising the wind user as she used her own explosions on him from behind. 

She was his daughter alright.

She got a really amazing quirk, even more so than his, even if he’d never admit it. Your quirk was a really good match with his, even though your quirk was the last reason why he married you.

Your quirk was called Adrenaline Rush, you were able to enhance your physical body because of it, your adrenaline working more overpowered than anyone else’s. Your increase in blood flow and oxygen to your muscles causing you to be- well basically supercharged.

The reason why it paired so well was because one prominent feature that happened during a rush-

You sweat. A lot.

So in turn, when your daughter had both, the increased sweating mixed with his explosive quirk-

Let’s just you guys made one bad ass kid.

Her quirk was Explosive Adrenaline, he thought it was the cutest name, a mix of both of yours. She was sort of able to control her physical body like you were, but she could either put in a ‘super charge’ into her limbs, or into her explosions. 

This time she put more of her overcharge into her fist, having it painfully collide with the back of the wind quirk’s head. Katsuki, now even more on a high alert, made sure to keep the other two occupied on him while he let Akari handle the other. 

The two-on-one was going better now that he didn’t have his attacks weren’t being blown away, and he could tell he was wearing both of his opponents down. The shadow user manipulated her shadow into a bat, and went to swing it at his face, but Katsuki grabbed the other guy moved him into the spot instead, forcing him to take her attack while he followed up and used an explosion from behind. The two crashed into each other, falling on the ground while Katsuki went for another attack to make sure they stayed there. 

Although, the sound of his daughter's cry caught his attention and he turned in time to see her back collided with an unstable building, the walls shaking from the impact and threatening to fall. He sprinted over to her, blasting the wind user away while covering her body with his own as soon as the building crumbled down. The pain spread throughout his body, and he ground his teeth together as he tried to make sure Akari was alright. 

He blasted through some remains, the overuse of his quirk causing his hands to shake but he bared with it. The rush in his body numbing the pain as he dragged the both of them behind another building to recoup. He slumped against a wall, taking in heavy breaths as he scanned her over. Besides for some cuts she looked fine, and he felt a breath of relief fall from his lips. 

“Are you alri-”

Before he could finish his sentence the three, now all up and running, came from behind the corner in order to fight once more. This wasn’t right, something was wrong.

Katsuki just knew it, if they were after something they would have ran off the moment they got, unless they were distracting them for a reason-

There was something else they were covering for, or worse yet, someone.

Katsuki frantically looked around while trying to fend off the persistent villains, trying to see who the hell they were messing with.

“You heroes really are idiots!” The shadow user screamed out, her shadow flattening out and pushed the father-daughter duo back.

They both landed further down the alley with a grunt, and Katsuki felt his lungs working overtime to get air into his lungs. Then he finally saw it, another person coming out of the shadows with a wicked grin.

“Ground Zero- good to see you buddy. Really, it’s been a while.” Katuski stood, throwing three explosions in his direction while throwing five more in the other to hold off the three lower villains.

“You think this had any effect on me- come now Ground Zero, you mustn't remember me if you think that could hold me, and frankly, that pisses me off.”

The sound of cracking bones was loud in Akari’s ears, more so than her father’s and her own explosions. The sickening sound of it taring through the skin was horrid and she held back a gag at the smell that followed. His bone turned sharp, coming out of him like extra limbs as they stretched and grew, heading straight towards her dad. She vaguely saw the look of panic on her dad’s face, and she knew that he must've had great trouble with him in a previous battle, if the villains monologue wasn’t anything to go by. 

She felt the wind from behind and saw the others closing in, looking back to the front, the man's bones were growing thicker as ran forward.

“Surge-” Her dad let off more explosions and she followed suit, gritting her teeth as she sent multiple to the party behind her, “Get the hell out of here- go request back up. I don’t know why no one else hasn’t fucking arrived.” 

A bone sliced through the air unharmed from the blasts, managing to clip Katsuki’s shoulder painfully. His hands were tied, if he ran forward to attack the man, he’d be leaving his daughter to a 3-on-1 fight, and while she was no weakling, that was hard on anyone. If he focused on the three, they’d have his full attention and she would be left alone with the creep. Either way he’d be leaving her as an opening, and he wasn’t about to risk that. He was sure he’d have a fighting chance if she wasn’t there on the forefront of his thoughts, if he was able to go wild. At the very least, he’d be able to buy her enough time to get the hell out of here and request some assistance. 

To get somewhere safe.

 Akari gasped as she saw her dad get his shoulder sliced, drawing plenty of blood from the wound. He was already badly injured, plenty of regular bruises and scratches, but worse wounds from the falling building earlier. Plus, this maniac with the crazy quirk was striking only him, deep cuts appearing on his skin, angry red coming in its place. She started sending more powerful explosions to the group behind her, trying to keep them away as she racked her brain for any ideas on how to fight. She knew she wasn’t strong enough to take on a group alone, and this guy seemed to think he could give her dad a struggle, so what were they going to do? 

All she could do was send a constant barrage of supercharged explosions, and it was working for the most part, the smokescreen helping to keep them blinded and unable to press on with any attack. But the smoke was being wiped as fast as she could create it, the wind picking up do to the man with the quirk, blowing it away and trying to create an opening for his team.

Damn wind quirks.

“No- I can’t leave you Ground Zero! We have to find a way out together-”

“This is no time to argue with me dammit!” 

Her eyes widened as she looked up at him, he was looking down at her with a worried look on his face. He was shaking due to overuse and exhaustion, and he was bleeding out in multiple places as the bone kept meeting his form. She willed her explosions to come larger, feeling adrenaline course through her veins as she began to sweat more, and took all of the energy and moved it into her palms. The smoke was thicker, the pain was larger, and the panic was coming in waves. 

“I’m sorry dad-I can’t leave you!”

“You get your ass out of here! You got that!? Dammit-your mother must be calling by now, you haven’t had a fucking lunch break yet and you know how pissy she gets when you don’t eat. Kid, you know you’re a hero in my eyes but you’re still fucking learning! So get out of here so you can keep moving forward and take over the number one spot-GO.” He gave no room for argument, and the sadness in his eyes scared her more.

She saw another part of the bone coming from the smoke, this time aimed right at her dad’s heart. She yelled out, and rushed for it before it could reach him. 

He wanted her to learn, but if she couldn’t learn from him, learn from the best, how the hell would she ever make it to the number one spot? 

It was over before it began, the searing pain in her side caused her to grunt in surprise as she was lifted up into the air. The gravity forcing the bone to travel deeper into the wound, this time bringing a scream from her lips. Although she couldn’t hear it due to the ringing in her ears-plus she was too busy trying to focus on breaking the bone. 

If her father’s quirk couldn’t break it, she would have to show that old man who’s boss and do it herself. 

She wrapped her hands around the bone, drawing all the power she could muster before releasing multiple, large, supercharged shots into it. She heard the crack, and the screams and shouts around her blended together. All she cared about was the the bone turned to ash and she was finally dropped onto the floor. The impact took the air from her lungs and her vision blurred before it all went black.

While all she could see was black, Katsuki saw red. 

One moment he was telling her to leave, to save herself without really telling her that it was over, and the next he sees his baby on the ground.

His baby.

Katsuki’s mind flashes to every moment he’s ever had with her, and for some reason the most prominent memories were all the moments he's ever cried;

The first time he held her he cried because he was scared that he would never be enough for the angel he held in his tainted hands.

The first time she had talked, she had spoken had been his name and he had cried tears of happiness because his whole world was complete as long as he had her. 

The first time she had walked, it was into his embrace, so he cried tears of joy at being the arms where she felt safe enough to walk into.

The first day of school she had said goodbye with no problems, and he cried at the fear that she didn't need him anymore. 

The first time she had shown her quirk, he cried right along with her as the explosions had burned her hands; he knew the pain of a powerful quirk, both physically and emotionally, and he wanted nothing more than to blast that pain away.

The first time she had shown interest in training, she had asked him to train her and he secretly cried because he was overjoyed that she wanted his help over anyone else.

The first time that she was ever excited about school was when she got her acceptance in his alma mater, and he cried because he was so damn proud of her.

The first person she said when he asked who she wanted to intern with was him, and he cried because he felt so lucky to be her first choice.

This was the first time he had seen her hurt so badly, and he knew he was crying in agony at the sight.

She had so many firsts in her life already, but she still had so many firsts left ahead of her. 

He wanted to keep crying for all the good and all the firsts she had yet to do.

He wants to cry as he watches her graduate.

He wants to cry as she makes it as a pro.

He wants to cry as he walks her down the aisle.

He wants to see her grow, he wants her to have the world at her feet.

He didn't want to cry in regret at her funeral because he didn't have what it takes to save her.

He would not let himself see her death, there was no way he was going to let her die.

"AKARI!"

Any hurt he had been previously feeling was pushed to the side, the only thing Bakugou could focus on was keeping his little girl safe. 

Sending a large enough explosion to keep the ones behind at bay, he moved her from the middle of the ground. He wanted to hold her tight in his arms but he needed to make sure they were safe first, so he ran towards the man with bone, sending a punch that was backed with an explosion at his face, twisting around to kick him in the gut before sending off another explosion for good measure to knock him down.

Katsuki turned around, and wasted no time blasting an explosion larger than he had ever done before at the trio, making sure none of them could possibly think of getting close to Akari. He wasted no time sprinting forward and grabbing the man of steel, tossing his hardened body into the wind user, before grabbing the girl by the face and slamming her into the wall. He sent off an explosion before tossing her as well at the pair on the ground. 

He backtracked and brought the man of bone back to his feet, the man only staring with wide eyes as Katsuki gripped his throat tight, having to force himself to stop before he took it too far. More bone tried to desperately pierce his skin, but the chokes and frantic kicking of his legs showed how his mind was off due to panic, his quirk doing nothing more than grazing in an ungraceful frenzy. The labored breaths framed Katsuki’s face and he squeezed a fraction tighter, in hopes to knock him out for a while. 

Inside his mind he wishes it was for good.

Once the eyes rolled back and the man went limp, the viper-tight grip was released. He let him fall harshly onto the ground, no care in his body for anything other than their suffering. The other group was groaning on the ground, writhing in pain, but it wasn’t enough. 

Yet before he could do more, police ran forward into the smoke, catching the villains and binding them with quirk suppressant cuffs. 

Another hero ran through the smoke, looking as bad as Katsuki did. Bloodied and torn green hero suit, curly hair flat against his head with sweat and even more blood. He was holding onto his stomach, breathing harshly with one eye closed to keep it clean from what trickled down from his hairline.

“Kaach-fuck, MEDIC!”

Katsuki didn’t listen, focusing all of attention to his little girl. She was still breathing, the wound deep but fortunately not deep enough to have her bleed out in the seconds he was fighting. He raised his heavily shaking hands and pressed them to her side, tears falling down his face as he whispered promises into her unconscious ears. 

He refused to let anyone pick up up, choosing to strain himself longer and set her down onto the stretcher himself, also refusing attention as he insisted on riding with her. As much as they wanted to tell him to trust them, to let himself get help, they wouldn’t. The look in his eyes proved that anything spoken to him would be futile, so they ushered him inside the ambulance before speeding off to the nearest hospital. He could wait, he needed to make sure she’d be okay.

Akari had to be okay.

As soon as they had gotten her stretcher into the operating room, is when Katsuki collapsed. His body was running on pure fear and adrenaline, and the damage he had taken was more than he could handle. As soon as he saw she was getting the treatment she needed, the small amount of relief had been the switch that turned his body off. His shakes stopped, breathing hitching along with eyes fluttering closed and he felt weightless, landing with his back on the cold tile. Nurses and doctors rushing to get him help.

You had watched the news, worry coursing through your body as the woman reported of how small yet powerful groups of villains were targeting top pro heroes. You tried to calm yourself, saying your husband was more than capable of handling some weaklings. But you remembered today was the day Akari was with him, and you knew he’d be more concerned about her safety than the fight at hand. You rubbed your enlarged stomach with shaking hands, trying to remind yourself the stress wasn’t healthy for the two of you. 

Although that worry only intensified when your home phone began to ring, the ringing sounding further away the closer you went. Lifting it with a shuddering breath, you answered.

The man on the other end told you how your husband and daughter were in critical care at the moment, and that you needed to get down to the hospital as quickly as you could. You could only hang up, no answers needed. Knowing if you spoke it would all rush out. You were in a trance, grabbing your purse and keys one moment, and the next time you blinked you were rushing through the hospital doors. 

Waddling as fast as you could to the nurses desk, you quickly asked for more information. The nurse soothingly gave you all the information she could, getting up to guide you to a seat as you were finding yourself swaying in place. She knelt down in front of you, asking you to breath in and out with her. You don’t remember complying, but the nod of her head gave you the indication you were. Her lips moved but no noise came out, static white noise is all that you could hear-and in a way it was calming.

The hustle and bustle of rushing professionals was all in the background, fading slowly as if you had muted the television. The nurses words, the speakers overhead, the squeaking of stretchers, the sirens from outside, they were all silent. 

Quiet.

It was too quiet now.

You needed to hear two things only.

Your family’s voices. 

Your husbands throaty scoffs and your daughters teasing laughs.

You needed your family.

It must have been hours before a doctor came to you, but you had sat for what seemed like years of your life were chipping away. 

All at once the noise came back at full volume, almost too loud to hear the doctor in front of you.

“They’re ready to be seen, but be warned, they’re most likely still pretty groggy. If that’s the case, know that it is perfectly normal.”

You followed the doctor to a room on another floor, the entire walk felt too long, you had to see them now. 

Katsuki had woken up, pain shooting from multiple places in his body. He grunted in pain, the closing of his eyes, along with the growing weight of his limbs, were trying to coax him asleep and he was allowing the pull to lull him. 

His eyes shot open before he fell back under, his heart rate spiking on the monitor as he panicked.

“A-akari.” His voice was hoarse, broken glass in his throat causing pain that no amount of throat clearing could get rid of.

“I’m right here daddy-I’m right here.”

His eyes snapped to his left, seeing his daughter sitting up and bandaged in many places, although not as bandaged up as he was. She started to sniffle and held out her hand to him. Despite the pain, he reached out and held her right hand just as tightly, lips quivering in relief at the sight of her.

She was okay.

“Don’t you ever do that again, you understand.” Katsuki demanded, voice still scratchy but just as serious. 

She said nothing but smiled, although her smile quickly fell and was replaced with a wobbly bottom lip.

“You l-look like shit.” Tears fell from her eyes.

Katsuki barked out a mix of a sob and a laugh that hurt his body, hand squeezing hers as he replied.

“I love you brat.”

“I love you too old man.”

The door opened, causing the two to sober their tears as best as they could, and the pair looked over to see you and a doctor walk in. 

“Oh my babies.” You cried, rushing over to hug your daughter in a hug. Katsuki let go of his daughter’s hand, slowly bringing it back to his side, hissing quietly at the pain. 

You kissed her face all over, holding her cheeks and muttering sweet nothings into her hair.

“Mom, I’m okay-”

“Shut up brat, let me kiss you.” You pressed her against your chest, rocking her slowly as you kissed her head. 

She gripped your shirt back, holding the material tight between clenched fists. You stayed that way for a while, long enough to where the doctor excused himself and said he’d be back later for more information.

After a moment, you pulled away, giving her one last kiss before looking over at your husband. He was staring at the two of you with a small smile, love in his eyes. 

“(y/n)..”

“You stupid man.”

“Oi!”

You remove yourself from your daughter, walking over to Katsuki before hugging him just as tight.

“OW-damn woman, I’m hurt here.”

“Sh-shut up.” You cried into his chest, laying sideways on his bed facing your daughter, being wary of your bump.

Katsuki ran his right arm down arm a few times, hoping to sooth your cries. His hand ran down your back, reaching around the best he could to hold onto your stomach. He lifted his left arm to do the same, but that took a lot more effort. 

No matter the effort, he’d do all he could to hold you close to him.

You sighed, calm enough to sit up to look at your loves in matching bandages.

“You both are in so much trouble when we get home.”

“Awh Ma, c’mon!”

“Yeah what the hell woman.”

You laughed and they looked at your confused, glancing at each other before sharing mental thoughts, knowing they shouldn’t poke the bear.

“I’m sorry mom.” Akari sighed.

“Me too mom.” Katsuki replied sarcastically.

Well, poke the bear too much. Katsuki couldn’t help it sometimes, even during serious moments such as these.

“You better be, I never said you could get yourselves hurt, did I?” 

“No ma’am.” They responded in sync. 

You sat on his bed in a way that allowed you to look at both of them at the same time, and you felt tears well up one more. Reaching out to your daughter, you held her hand tight, using the other to rub circles on your husbands bicep.

“I love you both, I’m so happy you’re okay.”

“We love you too.”