#it’s okay radar I’d be scared of her too

[a-rayneart]

Not the first, not the last, but certainly the most prominent indication that I’m crap at skin tones.

Anyway I love her.

[sevikasenby]

three months. (ao3 link)

a/n: first fic for @sevikaweek and i thought i’d end the last day, the deal, with another ending <3

summary: sevika goes into hiding because of the war between piltover and the undercity and you and sevika make a deal, a promise even: 3 months. that was it. rating: explicit, MDNI wc: 2,983 warning for major character death, mentions of blood

AGELESS BLOGS, MINORS AND MEN DNI

“they won’t find where i’m going. hell, they hardy know where this place is anyways so-“

“yeah they don’t know where we are right now, so why can’t you just stay here, sev!?” 

sevika stared at you. she opened her mouth to speak but closed it and let out a long, weary sigh and looked around. you were both stood in the living room because she had come to you with this while you were lounging on the couch. 

she knew you were frustrated, hence why you had just snapped at her a bit, but she was to because you weren’t understanding. maybe you never would. 

she looked at you with saddened eyes, “because you’re not a target, baby.”  she lifted her hand to cup your cheek, letting you nuzzle into it. “if they find this place and they see you with me, they will either take you or kill you too and i cannot let that happen.”

the enforcers were after sevika, but mainly jinx, wanting them dead or alive, and anyone who could’ve been helping either of them, hiding them, etc because of the war between piltover and the undercity going on. they already got a couple people including some firelights, lock and even singed because of the shimmer distribution. 

ran was actually the one helping jinx, letting her stay in their apartment since it was a bit like yours and sevika’s, off the enforcers radar and likely they wouldn’t be caught here. you had even questioned why sevika couldn’t go and stay with ran. she said it was because they were already hiding someone and she didn’t want to put them more at risk for helping. 

sevika just didn’t want to chance anything. she wanted to leave to keep you safe, to go to an even more secluded area, one far back in the undercity in hopes the enforcers would be too scared to go back there. 

“look,” sevika started when you looked away from her, thinking about what she said. “i’ll make a deal with you. give it three months. that’s it.”

“three months? for what?”

“in three months everything should be died down enough to where i can come back and be alright living here. probably will still keep low profile but it should be fine.”

“and if it’s not?” you placed your hand on top of hers where it still rested on your cheek. 

“then i stay where i am and i will come back to you as soon as it is, i promise. until then, you stay here. ran, i’m sure will keep you company, and you do not, under any circumstances, come looking for me. deal?”

it was your time to sigh. you raised your hand and moved the few stranded of hair out of face. she had cut her hair a lot shorter as a way to disguise herself, she had actually changed her whole outfit (jinx made her go shopping) for that matter, a new dark purple cloak. she had a new mech arm (jinx actually made some of it) and even got her first piercing right under her bottom lip. obviously it wasn’t going to disguise her a hundred percent but enforcers would be looking for her with a different description than she has now. 

“okay.” you said after a while. you still didn’t understand why she couldn’t just stay where she was, here with you. yes she wanted to protect you but just as she said, enforcers really didn’t know where they were. yes it was a chance of them coming your way, but sevika couldn’t bare the thought of anything happening to you so she decided herself that she was going to leave, that it was the best option for the both of you. 

two days later sevika had packed her bags. it wasn’t much, she’s never been someone to own a lot of things, she just packed what she needed. she also packed her clothes that were in the closet and put them away so just in case enforcers did make their way in, they wouldn’t know she lives here, they would only think you did. 

you laid in bed that night, resting on sevika’s chest, catching your breath, a pit of despair looming over you knowing what was coming the following day. you just had sex, like any regular night. but this time it wasn’t rough, it wasn’t fast, it felt completely different. yes you’ve had sex where it wasn’t your regular fast pace. this felt softer. her touch was somehow even more gentle than it normally was. it was slow, like she didn’t want it to ever end. she kept you close to her, her fingers were never not intertwined with yours as her wet clit moved against you. 

maybe you saw the tears in her eyes right before she buried her face in your neck, clearly not wanting you to see, but you didn’t mention it. and maybe a few of your own tears fell into her hair as you wrapped one of your arms around her, holding the back on her head. sevika didn’t notice. 

yes she was only going away for 3 months, not really a long time, so why were you both crying? it was probably because there was a possibility of her not coming back, you both knew it, but it was never said. because if its never spoken out loud, maybe it wouldn’t be real…

you looked up at her, rubbing you thumb across her chest. “i love you so much, sev.”

“i love you too, baby. you don’t understand how much i love you.” she leaned down to kiss your lips. “i barely even understand it.” 

_________________

the next morning it was quiet. too quiet for sevika’s liking. because sevika left before you even woke up since she knew she wouldn’t be able to leave after seeing the look in your eyes knowing she’s gonna be gone for three months, maybe even longer, but the hope was only three. she left with the memory of you sleeping peacefully, of you humming softly in your sleep as she caressed your hair and rubbed your back. 

if she sat at her desk, debating if this was the right decision once again and if she had tears slowing falling down her face while she kissed your forehead and made her way out the door once telling herself again that it was, it was the right decision, you didn’t need to know that. 

you woke up to a cold, empty bed. you weren’t necessarily surprised, she’s left to go to work way before you woke up at times. but this time was different. she was gone. you weren’t going to see her for what is probably gonna feel like a life time for you. for the both of you. 

you reached out and grabbed her pillow to hug to your chest. when you did, something caught your attention. her old outfit along with her old red cloak were still draped over her desk chair. you had washed them the other day and you knew you had to put them up and keep them away incase enforcers were to show. but at that moment you couldn’t, you got out of bed and grabbed her cloak, wrapping yourself in it as you hoped and prayed to whatever was out there that sevika would be safe and that she came back to you in one piece. 

_________________

it was a little over two months later, three months was just around the corner. you were starting to feel a little bit of hope bubble up inside of you. shit had died down as sevika had said, (other than the incident that happened about two weeks ago) and enforcers were getting tired of running in circles and the number of them that came down to the underity kept lowering. 

right after sevika left, it was a bit rough. ran had came by and stayed with you for a full day or two to keep you company and make sure you were doing okay, reminding you that sevika knew what she was doing, that she wouldn’t have left if she didn’t think it was the best option. they didn’t stay the night because enforcers were more likely to be coming down while it was dark but they came by almost every day to check in on you. 

you finally decided that you could do this. you trusted sevika. you trusted her with everything in you. and again, three months was just around the corner. 

_________________

a knock on the door interrupted your thoughts as you were getting ready to go to bed. it was a quiet night, only hearing the pitter patter of rain hitting the roof. you went and looked through the peephole in the door (because sevika reminded you to not open the door until you check who it is) and saw that it wasn’t an enforcer. 

so you opened the door and stared at ran in front of you, they were looking down. their hair and clothes were soaked bc of the rain and when they finally looked up at you, you could see their makeup was running down their face. 

they were sobbing you realized and your heart stopped. you looked down to see what they were holding and…

oh. 

sevika. 

she came back to you…but only one piece of her came back. 

the wet purple cloak was clutched tightly in their hands and your heart started racing, you started shaking and tears immediately formed in your eyes when you noticed the red splotches on it. 

“i-i-i’m sorry.” ran stuttered out. they stumbled inside just enough to where they would fall into you and you both nearly hit the ground. 

“no, no, no, no ,no-“ you started and ran wrapped one of their arms around you, let out a chocked sob and then both of you were on the ground, almost in the middle of the doorway while it was still raining. you felt the cloak in between you two and the tears finally fell. you felt completely empty, shattered, like you wanted to scream at the sky and sob until the only thing rolling down your face was the rain. 

three months…that was the deal. it was almost here. and now it never will be. 

_________________

it was hours after ran came by, hours after ran stopped crying, hours after you stopped sobbing into the purple cloak, now soaked with your tears instead of the rain. it was hours after the rain had stopped and it was past midnight that ran was finally able to tell you what happened. 

they didn’t know, really. they told you they ran into an old friend and one of the first things he said to ran was “oh, and i’m really sorry about sevika.”

ran was confused by what he said and their friend then realized they didn’t know what he was talking about. he was hesitant to tell them, of course, but told them what he knew. 

he said he saw three zaunite’s coming from a house about two weeks ago, way back in the undercity where he roamed about a lot simply because it was quiet, less people. it was safe, but maybe not so much anymore. the three men were clearly carrying a body with a white sheet over them. as they walked, a mech arm had slipped out and hit one of the guys in the leg and startled him. ran’s friend recognized it as sevika’s.

ran asked him to show them where the house was and he did. ran rushed into the house, noticing the trail of blood going up the steps and was met with one of their worst fears inside. the purple cloak on the floor was the first thing they noticed. then they noticed the blood on the cloak, then on the floor. it was enough that ran rushed back outside to throw up over the side of the railing as they were almost hyperventilating.

the enforcers must have found her and shot her, is the conclusion ran came to. after a bit of silence, a few sniffles heard here and there, ran questioned how you were going to tell jinx. 

you had absolutely no idea. all you knew was that sevika’s gone. she’s been gone. and you had no idea. 

_________________

sevika had heard from listening in on a few peoples conversation that another wave had started. more enforcers were swarming the undercity. what she didn’t know was it was because jinx almost got herself caught. it was an accident, of course, she didn’t mean to get in the line of sight of an enforcer when all she wanted to do was to go to jericho’s for a little snack for her and ran. but it pissed the enforcers off enough that they decided to adventure deep into the city to look for her. 

sevika went out, as she usually did. she checked every other day to see how things were doing, to try and see how many enforcers were out. but that night she went out at the wrong time because two enforcers were making their way down in search of jinx, thinking she might’ve been hiding deep in the shadows of the undercity. 

she noticed them before they noticed her. she turned around quickly, but not quickly enough. they had caught the end of her cloak, running up on her and she turned around when she heard the noise. they recognized her immediately, her mech arm poking out beneath her cloak. 

she didn’t have the time to think before one of them fired a shot at her, hitting her in the chest and knocking her to the ground. she had just enough energy to power her mech arm and use her blade to slice both legs of the enforcer who shot her. he screamed and fell to the ground in front of her.

the enforcers then decided that fuck it, she was shot, there’s a long way out of here and she wasn’t gonna make it out, so the enforcer helped his friend to his feet and they left, leaving sevika on the ground. 

she placed her hand over where she was shot, blood running down her hand. she knew she had to make it back inside, at least. breathing was getting difficult and her eye sight was blearing but she managed to get up the steps and inside the door. that was as far as her body would let her go. 

she was flat on her back on the floor of the run down house she was in. her own shuttered breath was the only noise she heard. the only thing she felt was a burning sensation in her chest. she knew she had to put something other than her hand on her wound but her cloak was tangled beneath her mech arm. she did her best and at least got it over her head but she tried and failed at pulling it out, giving up when her good arm was too weak to do so. 

she coughed and moved her head to the side to spit the blood out. as her eyes started feeling heavy, they started drooping and her mind started wondering. she thought of you. she thought about how she left almost three months ago. she left you sleeping peacefully, curled into the blankets where you were previously curled up in her arms. you always loved being in her arms, she was always so warm. but right now she felt cold, so so cold. 

she wondered for a moment how you were. if you were eating, drinking, getting enough sleep. she wondered if ran and jinx were  doing okay, if they were still safe. ran became sevika’s friend after they both started working for silco. the first thing sevika noticed was that ran never said much. which was never an issue. then she noticed they were the only person who could come close to beating her at cards and then suddenly they were friends. jinx was…well she was jinx. sevika may have felt a bit (a lot) of hatred for her in the past, mostly for blowing her up multiple times, but the little shit had grown on her. not that she’d ever let jinx know that.

now the burning pain in her chest was getting unbearable and a tear slipped down her face. she thought about what if she had stayed and just for a moment she almost regretted leaving you. she thought about what would’ve happened if you were with her right now. you would probably be frantically trying to stop her bleeding, that is if you hadn’t been shot along with her, which was more likely. if you hadn’t been shot, you probably would’ve been moving her hair out of her eyes, making her keep them open as you talked to her. 

then she thought about why she felt the need to leave so bad because of course she could have stayed. she could have protected you, at least she wants to believe she could have, and then it clicked. 

it was because you were never apart of her plans. you came along so suddenly and changed everything for her so fast that she couldn’t keep up. she never planned to care about someone so much. and she cared about you so fucking much, too much to let you die because of her. you weren’t supposed to be apart of this. she never planned for you to be apart of her life. 

you were her last thought and her last breath was more of a sigh, a sigh of content knowing you were safe, knowing that you weren’t holding her hand or kissing her forehead, knowing that you weren’t here with her… and she was okay with that. 

[revehae]

dear hyuckie

pairing ↠ athlete!haechan x (f) reader

genre .. warnings ↠ smut, noncon, mc is a terrible person, stalking, unprotected sex, baby trapping

summary ↠ for the longest time, you've been obsessed with haechan and wanted him to yourself, but he hardly notices you. to grab his attention, you start sending him anonymous love letters.

wc ↠ 6.0k

a/n ↠ part 5/5 of the college-capades series!

don’t like it, don’t read.

so fucking annoying, you hissed to yourself, poking around the corner. 

your eyes were fixed on the boy’s locker room door that was, to your chagrin, being guarded by the basketball team captain.

who you never liked. jung jaehyun, you thought irritably. he was undeniably good-looking, you’d give him that, but he was arrogant. haechan would make a much finer captain. where jaehyun was a cocky asshole, haechan was none too prideful but enthusiastic nonetheless.

you’d heard haechan giving pre-game pep talks to his team and motivating them not to feel guilty on the occasions where they lost. he was a natural at lifting other’s spirits. obviously, he was the driving force in the team. 

not jung jaehyun, who leaned on the door, laughing at texts on his phone most likely from a bunch of girls dying to do him. though you most definitely weren’t one of them, there were many. 

and you happened to know one of them.

“thought i’d find you here,” you said, pretending to only now be walking up the path. given that his eyes were locked on his phone screen, jaehyun was none the wiser. 

jaehyun flitted his gaze to you. “how’d you figure that?”

“oh, you know. my hot guy radar was going off,” you flirted, your own words like poison on your tongue. but hopefully worth it.

that had his attention. jaehyun chuckled, pocketing his phone, then said, “i thought you said i wasn’t your type?”

“you’re not,” you replied flatly. “but i know somebody who’s a little more open-minded.”

jaehyun’s brows furrowed. the implications behind that weren’t lost on him. “are you joking?”

“nope,” you chirped, though you were absolutely lying. “rosé wants you to come over. she’s too chicken to tell you herself and i was nearby, so she sent me instead.”

rosé and jaehyun had raging heart eyes (and boners) for each other since the day they locked eyes. though rosé, your dear friend and the only reason you knew jaehyun, was scared that he was too much of a fuckboy. their interactions never amounted to anything more than flirty exchanges after a game, but they definitely wanted each other.

maybe it was a slight fib. rosé had said nothing of the sort, but it was the best lie you could come up with and you desperately needed something impactful enough to get jaehyun away from that door. your best friend would be thanking you later.

“shit, okay. what’s her address?”

maybe it wasn’t the best move to give a boy both of you barely knew your best friend’s address, even if she had the hots for him, but you were in too much of a hurry to give a damn about ethical decision-making. 

“and jaehyun,” you called out after him when he started to leave. 

jaehyun turned his head. “yeah?”

donning the role of a helpful acquaintance, in spite of how much you loathed this guy, you advised sweetly, “maybe stop to the store first. get her some flowers or a box of chocolates. she likes those. i know you probably don’t leave the house without condoms.”

jaehyun’s shoulders shook while he laughed and threw his hands up. “you got me. thanks for looking out.”

your answer was kind, though in reality, the only reason you gave him helpful advice was because you wanted to slow him down just in case rosé wasn’t home. you quickly sent her a vague text and unapologetically mentioned that you would make it up to her later.

jesus, the things i do for you, lee donghyuck, you thought dreamily. if only he knew how much you liked him.

for lack of a better word, of course. to be frank, you were enamored with his whole being. just the thought of haechan had your legs quivering and your heart thumping against your chest. thoughts of him were all-consuming. you couldn’t eat sometimes without wondering if he had ate.

given that you were running out of time, you quickly slipped into the locker room, glancing around to make sure the coast was clear before you invaded. fortunately, with jaehyun set on getting laid, there was nobody else around. 

except for the love of your life.

you heard a shower running, just as you knew it would be. you happened to overhear haechan mentioning to a friend that he would be in the locker rooms for a moment to shower and figured it was your time to spy. your footsteps were quiet, gentle. half of the time, it didn’t bother you so bad that he wasn’t attracted to you. it was better that way.

after tiptoeing around, you reached his locker, shoving a letter inside the slit. although it would have been rational to leave then and there, you couldn’t shake the temptations brewing in your guts where you desperately needed him. he was naked, just in the shower room. and you wanted a sneak peak.

against your better judgment, you crept around the corner, poking your head out to see if he was exposed. there was a long column of showers and just your luck, the curtains of the seventh stall were drawn. guess he wasn’t very shy. you could see a sliver of haechan’s dampened skin, bits of his leg and shoulder.

you licked your lips at the mouth-watering thought you’d had. given the chance, you wouldn’t waste a second to get down on your knees for him and give him the best head of his life. your plans were nothing short of vile, but a part of you liked to assume all would be forgiven when he realized that you were made for each other. 

not if. when.

when the shower came to a dry stop, you snapped out of your thoughts and took it as a sign to get out unnoticed, slipping away like a thief in the night.

but the letter in haechan’s locker didn’t go unnoticed.

well, kind of. he thought it was a joke, but he read it nonetheless. it wasn’t that far-fetched to assume that one of the guys were probably pranking him. granted, none of them called him by the nickname hyuckie, but they sometimes called him hyuck.

naturally, haechan didn’t think much of it until the second letter appeared, and it was somewhat more descriptive.

dear hyuckie, why do you wither in the wind and come to life in the sun, the letter started. i always think it’s unfair that nobody can match your undeniable charm, let it be on a swabbed court or with a bewitched crowd. kidding. others should envy what is yours.

there was more, of course, but haechan didn’t get to read that far before the letter was rudely snatched out of his hands.

“what’s that?” jaemin asked, nosily pulling the letter out haechan’s hand. 

haechan groaned, “dude, give it back.”

jaemin instead backed off, just out of arm’s reach of haechan. “guys, you’ve gotta come read this shit,” he said in amusement. “‘dear hyuckie, why do you wither in the wind and come to life in the sun?’”

jaemin continued to read until the end, blocking haechan’s attempts to steal the letter back while somehow also keeping the high-pitched, mocking tone of a woman. not too much later, haechan gave up on keeping it to himself, accepting defeat. the letter droned on about his performances on the court, how you watched every game with your eyes fixed to only him. how you wanted to be there to kiss him during his triumphs, but hold him during his losses.

haechan was used to fangirls. he was one of the most prominent members of a prominent team at an equally prominent school, backed by deals and endorsements. needless to say, there were more than a lot of girls that felt the same as you.

it was his first time getting a letter addressed directly to his locker, however. uproar was what he was accustomed to. this was quieter, subtle. you didn’t want to blend in with everybody else, and yet, you chose to be unheard.

johnny nudged his side. “shit, hyuck. looks like you’ve got a secret admirer on your hands.”

jaehyun laughed. “wither in the wind, come to life in the sun. what does that even mean?”

“yeah, i’m sure you wouldn’t have the wits to know,” mark quipped.

jaehyun shot him a glare while everybody else laughed at jaehyun’s expense. except for haechan, who was irritated.

“i thought you guys sent this,” haechan mused. “you know, ‘cause of the hyuckie thing.”

jaemin placed a hand on his teammate’s shoulder and jeered, “hate to break it to you, man, but nobody in this room wants to suck your dick.”

“fuck off, man,” haechan said, shoving him off. “i meant i thought it was a prank the first time.”

johnny lifted a brow. “the first time? you mean you got one before this?”

plopping down on a bench, haechan bobbed his head. “yeah, the exact same way. same delivery, same salutation, same handwriting, different content,” he explained.

“you scared?” jaehyun asked, teasing. 

“i’m not scared, i’m just a little worried. i mean, nobody should be able to get inside the locker room,” haechan ranted. 

“thing’s old,” johnny retorted. “might fall apart if they don’t renovate this summer. relax, man. it’s just some chick that wants to bone you. you should be happy bitches are lining up for you.”

haechan heaved a breath and gave in, letting the guys convince him that he was being overdramatic. it wasn’t that haechan didn’t enjoy feeling wanted, that couldn’t have been any further from the truth, but there was something in his gut that told him that you weren’t like the others.

you were far more dangerous than he would ever know, until the moment when it was too late for him to be saved.

but days of letters became weeks and haechan was becoming increasingly more alarmed. the letters multiplied, the content intensifying. though he wanted to tell someone, maybe get somebody to check some security camera footage, he didn’t want to be called a wimp.

so he thugged it out.

you, on the other hand, were over the moon that he was finally paying attention to you - kind of. you were sick of just being another girl in the arena. the letters differentiated you from the others. and at one point, they weren’t just letters anymore. they were bralettes and panties sticky with your arousal, attached with letters of you describing intricately how you got yourself off to him.

never once did you touch yourself without thinking of haechan, of how badly you wanted to break him and ruin him for the next woman (not that there would be one. ultimately, you were going to make sure that there wouldn’t be). wincing your eyes closed, hands buried between your own legs, you pictured his moist, dampened face, sticky with sweat that chased down his backside.

you wanted to tire him, to test his limits. you stalked him more or less everyday, peeking behind the bleachers to watch him practice. you knew what he could take, how far he could be pushed and shoved before the force became entirely too brutal and knocked the wind out of him.

sometimes the thoughts of him became overbearing. you couldn’t sleep because of him, falling behind in your classes because you couldn’t think of any that didn’t concern him. too much time was invested on keeping an eye on him during practice and following him on his way home. just to make sure he was safe, of course.

not that he had anything to worry about, though that wasn’t your definition of keeping him safe. any girls that dared deter him, even breathe in his general direction, you perceived as threats that needed to be eliminated.

you just had to fall for a popular guy. he was well-liked for a reason, and it went beyond his undeniably good looks. the charisma he wielded in the palm of his hands, how he dominated the whole court. the golden player, you thought with whimsical hope, pining. it was the title he’d been dubbed for obvious reasons.

nevertheless, he would always be your hyuckie. more often than not, it didn’t always register within you quickly when those around you referred to him as haechan, because he was so much more than that to you. nobody would ever understand the life you’d already crafted together in your brain, revolving utterly around him. where he wanted you just as much as you wanted him.

nobody could tell you that he wasn’t reading your letters, even if you never saw it in real time to be certain. because when his eyes flitted around during practice as you discreetly kept yours fixed to his frame, when he glanced over his shoulder while he took the journey home, you knew it was because he was uneasy. almost as if he could feel you watching. 

haechan could feel you watching.

he couldn’t see you, he couldn’t be sure who exactly you were, but he knew you were there somewhere. it was a gut feeling that sickened him almost too frequently.

it started during practice, the final preparations for the night’s game. during said game that night, the wrenching in his gut only intensified. you were there, obviously, like you never failed to be. antsy, haechan struggled to keep himself together during the match, but nobody would’ve ever guessed from simply looking.

nobody except you. you’d learned to recognize him in the distraught that was natural around you, as if it was his body’s self-preservation instincts.

still, he talked to you for the first time that night. rosé evidently knew of your more than little crush on haechan, though she was none the wiser to how desperately you needed a fix. she thought it was an innocent fondness. your impromptu trick (unfortunately) thrusted rosé and jaehyun into a relationship, and when it became known to him that you had the hots for his teammate, he didn’t wait a second to introduce you to each other.

to your shock, it was a pleasantly good first encounter. haechan still felt the nerves, but reduced them to post-game jitters, something he made up solely to feel comfortable again.

it wasn’t like you were the secret admirer or stalker, or whatever weirdo that was obsessed with him. for lack of a better word, you were just so normal-looking.

you didn’t at all seem like how he imagined a debatably batshit stalker to be. haechan thought you were pretty and amusing, matched his personality like you’d met in a past life. haechan had seen you before, you were besties with one of the most popular girls on campus and his captain’s crush, but he never thought he would enjoy your company.

that was how it all began. you talked for weeks, not leaving without each other’s numbers. when he wasn’t looking, you pinched yourself over and over, wondering if you were dreaming. you knew that you would click. you knew that you were fated to be together. 

as annoying as it was to admit, you actually owed jaehyun. he’d done you a massive favor. though, when you remembered that you were the sole reason he was even dating rosé in the first place, you considered yourself even. nevermind that it was an inadvertent mistake.

you spent many nights on the phone with haechan. given that you’d commited yourself to learning everything there was to know about him already, you came prepared with more than a handful of facts, though you pretended not to know so that you could impress him. chess, not checkers, you thought smugly to yourself, noticing the envious glares of multiple girls when you walked hand in hand with haechan.

you were winning. and you couldn’t believe it. but just when you were starting to have a taste of sweet, sweet victory, your self-restraint crumbled.

you’d been waiting too long. something needed to be done to satiate all the carnal energies running rampant through your veins, and it was no secret what the cure was.

haechan could feel that borderline debilitating sensation stirring in his gut again. it was like a shiver chilling its way down his spine, an itch that he just couldn’t shake.

to make matters even stranger, he was alone in his apartment.

or so he thought. midnight loomed over the night sky, thick clouds draped over probably bright stars. they stared back at him, just outside his bedroom window that he’d forgotten to draw the curtains of.

haechan had that habit, you noticed. men typically didn’t have to worry about the same things that women did, locking their car doors at gas stations and looking over their shoulders when they walked alone at night. it was so naive of him to believe he would ever truly be safe.

then again, you were only as dangerous as he allowed you to be.

checking his phone, haechan noted that he missed a call from you, having fallen asleep nearly the second he stepped out of the shower. practice was long and rough; his muscles were sore. he had wanted nothing more than to collapse on the nearest flat surface.

for whatever reason, he dialed you back. he remembered you mentioning that you would be up all night, catching up on some classwork you never explained why you were behind on and he never asked, but he also felt safer when he heard your voice. the letters stopped shortly after he started talking to you and that idiotically wasn’t suspicious to him. he was making this all too easy.

your voice sounded a little surprised. “hello?”

“hey,” haechan said, voice raspy from drowsiness. “bad time?”

“no, never,” was what you said, because you were always down to talk, though needless to say, the call took you by surprise.

haechan thought nothing of it. he assumed you were working and didn’t expect a call this late. “sorry for missing your call. i passed out after i came back from practice.”

“it’s fine, hyuckie. i promise. i understand,” you crooned sweetly. you saw how hard he worked and you respected it.

“okay, cool,” haechan replied, heaving a breath of relief. then it hit him - that nickname and where he’d heard it before, and his heart stopped. “wait, what did you just call me?”

you swore under your breath, realizing that you’d officially blown your cover. you could have played it off, could have played dumb and innocently pretended not to know, but that shipped sailed the second haechan heard your cursing from his hallway.

haechan sat up, speaking your name. “why are you in my apartment?”

the call disconnected. haechan’s stomach was beset with unease, knots taut. somewhere entangled in the attraction to you was the inescapable feeling that you weren’t safe.

all haechan could hear for a moment was his own ragged breathing. there was no sign of you. no footsteps, no breathing. it would’ve been in his best interest to stand to his feet, or maybe just call the police, given that you’d somehow broken in. but maybe he underestimated just how threatening you were.

because when the doors suddenly burst open, there you stood, holding a gun in your hand.

“sit down,” you commanded when you noticed him abruptly stand. aiming the gun a little higher, you persisted, “i said, sit down!”

“okay, okay. i’m sitting,” haechan replied, dropping back against his sheets.

you took long, quick strides towards his bed, holding the weapon squarely at his brain while you emptied your pockets and cuffed him down. it was a graceless, clumsy exploit. for whatever reason, haechan watched you struggle, when it would’ve been his greatest opportunity to escape.

after a moment of struggling to cuff him with one hand to spare, the other too occupied with the gun directed towards his head, you leaned back to admire your handiwork. haechan didn’t even notice that you’d straddled him until you rocked a little, swallowing his apprehension with one gulp.

haechan released a shaky breath, calling out your name again. “what are you doing?”

“the obvious,” was all you said.

“it’s you.” haechan’s mind was ablaze with thought, remembering how you’d tortured him for all these weeks endlessly. “you’re the stalker.”

“i’m not just any old fucking stalker, hyuckie,” you hissed, bristling at that word. it distanced you from him. it belittled the connection sparked to life between the two of you. “i’m your lover. don’t you see?”

his lover of a long time. he never noticed you before, how you’d prance behind him in high school during your free time, surrendering your lunch time to watch him play around with his friends. how you always made sure there was a spare pencil on his desk in middle school, because he frequently got scolded for never remembering to bring one. 

you’d watched him turn into a beautiful young man over the years, but haechan never spared you a glance, not until you were forced to be slightly relevant in his life. you were sick and tired of being ignored. you were at the end of your tether, a lifetime of pining culminating in destruction. 

haechan’s head hung low, like he wasn’t even paying attention to you. it made your blood boil, rage and loathing seeping throbbing in your chest. “look at me!” you screamed. “why won’t you look at me?”

haechan, heart thumping violently, lifted his head to make eye contact with you. tears stung your eyes, reddening them. “you aren’t who i thought you were,” he whispered.

the audacity on this boy. “don’t you dare treat yourself like a fucking victim,” you snarled, seething. “this wasn’t a secret. not for us. i can tell from how you looked at me that deep down inside, you knew. our brains know the truth.”

haechan shook his head. “what are you talking about?”

“you could have easily snatched the gun out my hands and pushed me off. i’m not superwoman. but you didn’t, you didn’t do anything, because you knew what you wanted,” you responded, frantic, almost like you were deluding yourself.

but you weren’t - not this time. haechan sensed that something was off about you and still continued to talk to you. he watched you struggle, when it would’ve taken nothing for an athlete like him to throw you off, to overpower you and render you defenseless.

“i don’t…,” haechan trailed. 

“you do,” you sneered, vicious. “and you aren’t going to ruin our moment together just because you don’t want to admit it, hyuckie. you don’t know how long i’ve wanted this. how long i’ve worked to this.”

you threw the gun aside, because it was never loaded in the first place, and you couldn’t fathom ever hurting him. it was strictly to keep him pliant, to make sure that he didn’t ruin the moment. you’d been planning this for ages. you’d be damned if you let it deviate in any way from the plan etched into your brain.

shifting your attention to what you were really after, you allowed your hands to wander up his thighs, pulling at his boxers. haechan’s eyes widened with panic. “stop,” he told you, fretful.

what made the moment even more bizarre to haechan was that you merely giggled. “relax, hyuckie,” you crooned, at least in your head reassuring. “i’ll go slow, i promise. i really want to savor our first time forever. make it something we’ll never forget.”

haechan’s alarm only strengthened. 

when you grew tired of his frequent protests, you blew out an irritated breath and grabbed the ducktape that had fallen from your jacket pockets, dangling it in his face as you threatened, “keep bitching and i’ll have to shut you up. i don’t want that and i know you don’t want it either.”

haechan quieted, pinching his lips together. he was in no place to deny you.

you removed his underwear, revealing his soft cock, although that was an easy fix. gently gripping his cock in your palm, you began to fist him to life, a sensitive little sigh breaking out of him at the first touch of your supple hand.

the whiplash haechan was getting was jarring and he felt nothing short of conflicted. on the one hand, you were his daring stalker, the one sending him dubious letters alongside the inappropriate clothing and used sex items. he should’ve darted the second he had a chance. but on the other, he found himself genuinely starting to grow attached to you, and you seemingly knew what to do with your hands.

in a matter of moments, haechan was very much hard, and it was much simpler than you would’ve thought to get him up, all things considered. all it took was squeezing his balls a little.

you were eyeing him like a predator and it made haechan feel justifiably uncomfortable. many nights were spent with a thick toy stuffed between your legs in lieu of his stiff cock, your eyes fluttering closed, with you moaning his name as you imagined you were riding the soul out of him. the same toys you would send to him, showing him just how badly he’d ruined you.

none of it was in vain. you finally had the real deal right in front of you, cock as thick and delicious as you imagined it to be, and the sight was mouth-watering.

you grabbed haechan’s jaw, correcting his gaze, and said assertively, “eyes on me.”

it was very pleasing when he obeyed, keeping his eyes fixed to your frame as you undressed. underneath the thick jacket you’d worn to stuff all of your supplies, you were sporting nothing but a racy set of lingerie.

haechan visibly gulped and you giggled, never bothering to cloak yourself amusement. just like he couldn’t cloak his desire, no matter how much he balked. “do you like it, hyuckie?” you asked, cocking your head. “i wore it just for you.”

as of right now, it would’ve been in his best interest to tell you what you wanted to hear. that was what this was all about. you were claiming this moment as a rendezvous between lovers, even if haechan didn’t quite reciprocate your feelings, and you wanted him to feed into your delusions.

but it helped that you were stunning, and if you’d done this the normal way, haechan probably would’ve voluntarily slept with you. he mustered the courage to speak, “you’re gorgeous.”

“don’t flatter me,” you joked, glancing to the mattress as you giggled, playing coy. “well, if you like it so much, then i guess i’ll keep it on.”

like he was shy or something, haechan just nodded his head to show that he understood.

though it was you that had terrified him out of speaking in the first place, you prodded him on, asking, “do you want to touch me, hyuckie?”

“touch you how?” haechan knew the answer, it was obvious at this point, but he was reluctant. 

again, you giggled, twinkling with mischief. you freed one of his hands and grabbed it, slipping it right under your panties, and made a noise when you felt his warmth against your aroused, aching core. “see, i’m so wet for you,” you whispered, sticking his hand back out and bringing his fingers to his lip. “taste.”

it did haechan no good to refuse you of what you wanted, so he opened his mouth, sucking your arousal off of his own fingers. 

you watched him attentively. “do i taste good?”

when he nodded, the brightest smile slipped onto your lips. for the longest time, you’d imagined riding his face into oblivion, but that would have to be scheduled for another time. right now, you wanted to ride his cock.

without a second thought, you grabbed haechan’s cock in your hand, slipping your panties to the side just enough so that you could sink down on his size. you moaned immediately, and so did haechan, his lips parted.

something about his cock just scratched something in your brain. he was much warmer than the dildos you played make-believe with, and a little thicker, too. you took your sweet, precious time to sink down on him completely, going slow and steady because you wanted to linger in the heat of him.

haechan was wallowing in the kneading warmth of your tight pussy way too much to realize that you hadn’t even thought of a condom. all of the little things you brought for this sexcapade, from the duct tape to the gun, and not a single condom was in sight.

“you know, i’ve been saving myself for you,” you confessed, staring haechan plain in the eye. 

knowing just how committed you were to making a life with him through haechan for a loop. “you did?” he asked.

“why are you surprised? haven’t you been reading my letters?” you questioned, grinning. your heart was warm and there was nothing that could be done to undo your ecstasy. “i’ll never want anyone as much as i want you, hyuckie. there’s no point in other guys. i only see you.”

if this situation had unfolded any differently, your feelings and devotion would be something haechan was lucky enough to have, but he knew your true, reckless nature. it wasn’t romantic and it wasn’t beautiful, not like you thought it was inside of your head. it was creepy and it was off-putting, and you were a threat.

but you had been blind to reality for so long that you didn’t realize how unlawful your behavior really was, and if you did realize, you didn’t care. you were numbed by love, driven by fear of losing the love of your life to an undeserving whore.

leaning to grab the tiny little key perched on his nightstand, you decided haechan had earned to have his other hand uncuffed, though it was really because you wanted him to touch you. you grabbed his wrists, guiding his hands flat against your hips, and told him to keep them there.

even though haechan wanted to be terrified, and part of him was exactly that, he couldn’t deny that he was enamored with how your pussy squeezed him for dear life. you heard the little noises of his that filled the air, the desperate, shaky moans, and knew what he wanted.

all you ever wanted was for the longing to be mutual and at least, how it occurred to you in your mind, you were finally starting to get what you always wanted. it drove you crazy, hearing those pitched whines of your name from his own mouth.

he’s going to be mine forever. i’ll make sure of it, came your raging thoughts, and though they warred endlessly over him, your whole being agreed on one thing.

lee donghyuck belonged to you, and anyone who dared try to steal what was rightfully yours would be eradicated by any means necessary.

“i love you so much,” you admitted, even though it wasn’t a secret. you had poured out your heart to him through your letters, but the heat and passion of the sex made you even more vulnerable. “it’s okay you don’t feel the same way right now, because you will. one day, you’ll love me so much, you won’t even think of another girl.”

haechan said nothing, maybe blocking out your crazy rambles, maybe it was all white noise to him. what you did know, though, was that he couldn’t escape the undiscriminating reins of temptation. you felt how he tried to match your thrusts, grinding his cock into your pussy from below. he might’ve hated how crazy you were, but he loved how you gushed around his cock.

through the misty haze of pleasure, everything else failed to matter. he could only think with his dick, about how you were pulsing around him, the sweet sounds your pussy made as it wrapped around him with all the desire a human could possess.

you could feel his quick, hot breaths, practically hear his heart begging for a break. his face was flushed, warm and red all over, his hair sticking to his face. sweaty moisture was inescapable, cooling down his back and up his face. your attention was fixed to his plush lips, though, wanting to kiss them desperately.

and that was exactly what you did. you anchored yourself on his shoulders, pressing your lips to haechan’s mouth as you continued to bounce on his perfect, thick cock, wanting to suck the very last breath out of him. haechan didn’t fight it, because in the heat of the moment, when tangled in the highs of sex, the windows of judgment were far too cloudy.

you hated that you could feel that fever in your gut already, though from the looks of it, you weren’t alone in your need for climax. haechan’s hips moved quicker, ravenous. he needed to cum like he needed air to breathe, and that was exactly what you wanted. if he depended on you, he would never need anybody else ever again.

whatever haechan wanted, you were willing to give to him, even if it meant going to the ends of the earth and back. because you needed him too, and you would never truly be happy until you had him right where you wanted him, wrapped around your finger.

his face tensed with pleasure, his hold on your hips getting increasingly tighter as he chased orgasm. he was practically doing all of the heavy-lifting for you, a slave to his temptations, just like every other man you’d ever met. i know all of your strengths, hyuckie, you crooned in your head. but i know all of your shortcomings, too. they’re what make you so human.

“fuck,” haechan whined, defeat heavy on his face. “i’m so close, fuck. i’m gonna cum.”

i know you are. you reached for his hand, begging, “cum with me, hyuckie. please. please, please, please.”

haechan slipped his fingers through yours, overcome by the warmth stretching through his body and tensing his muscles. he couldn’t think properly, not through the blinding mist of satisfaction.

and the two of you came just like that, hand in hand, moving your hips in a true, desperate sync that only lovers would ever know. you whined that name while haechan cried out yours, neither of you stopping in your tracks until the fog passed. haechan’s warm, plentiful cum filled your cunt, your spasming pussy milking him for every bit.

you couldn’t think of a time where you’d been more thrilled. you’d just lost your virginity to the only man you’d ever loved, and the only man you would ever love, and it was like heaven. you were in love with that gone fucking stare in his eyes, no thought or soul behind them.

you grinned with contentment. you did that. you broke that out of him. 

even after the high started to fade, you didn’t want to move off of his softening cock, keeping all of his cum buried there for a minute. you gazed to haechan, a pleading gleam in your stare as you whispered, “i don’t want you to leave me.”

haechan blinked, starting to sober. all his apprehensions came back the second he realized what he’d done. he said your name and all, attempting to let you down gently, “listen, you’re, uh… great and all. this was great. but...”

you faked a pout, because you weren’t completely an idiot. you saw this coming. even giving haechan the best sex of his life wouldn’t make him fall in love for you. you cut him off, “are you really going to abandon your own baby, hyuckie? even if you do, it’s okay, because i’ll always carry a piece of you… inside me.”

there was a smug, sly smile on your lips. not even the pleasure of the sex couldn’t rival the satisfaction of watching the realization dawn on his face.

oh, hyuckie, you sighed to yourself. you’re a fool if you thought you were getting rid of me that easily.

[spencers-abit-weebish]

Up For The Challenge

XxX

Warnings: Slight Sexism, Slight Homo/Transphobia (if you squint), Typical Cod Violence, Sevearly Violent Language

The One Where: Kate Laswell introduced Task Force 141 to her favorite team.

Pairing: 141 x 333

A/n: The two 141 oc/readers I made for this are Tangled and Bang, I personally like how they are so far but don’t hesitate to give me your input. Also let me know if there’s any spelling or grammar errors cause I hate having those

W/c: idk, I might’ve gotten carried away

xXx

"I think it's time to call in the big guns" Laswell said over the comms.

"Big guns, what bloody big guns we have to get out of here" Price said as he and Ghost tended to a wounded soldier.

"I'm sending Medical Evac, when you guys get back Price I want to meet with you, I'm teaming the 141 up with another task force, smaller than you guys but stronger" Laswell said causing Ghost and Price to look at eachother.

"Watcher-1 out"

xxx

"How do you feel?" Price asked as he watched Gaz get his waist bandaged up.

"Like shit," Gaz said

"You took a hell of a fall, had no choice but to leg it" Price said.

"Give us a scare like that again and I’ll gie ye a skelpit lug" Soap chuckles causing the other men to look at him confused.

"English MacTavish" Ghost groans rolling his eyes as he struggles to hold down a soldier who was refusing to get treatment.

"Apologies Lt, I'll smack him upside the head. Is that better?" Soap asked sarcastically before looking over at him and laughing.

"Hey Tangled, how you doing over there?" Gaz chuckles after following Soap and Price's gaze to the bed behind him.

"Just peachy Gaz" Tangled said as she tries to bite Ghost.

"You lot stay here, I have to go meet up with Laswell" Price said looking down on his phone.

"Like hell yer going alone. I wanna know who the hell she was talking about earlier" Soap argues.

"Me too" Gaz said slowly getting off the bed.

"Stop moving you bloke, you have bruised ribs" Tangled scolds.

"Yeah and you need stitches!" Gaz retaliates.

"Too late, I glued her head, she'll be fine" The nurse groans as Tangled growls at her. Ghost pinches her as the nurse slaps a bandaid over the cut. Tangled huffs as she gets off the bed helping Gaz get up.

"You're like a dog" Gaz chuckles tossing an arm over her shoulder for support.

"Oh bug off, let's go see Laswell" Tangled said.

“Bang how’s it going over there?” Price asked.

“Go ahead without me, I’ll still be a while” Bang says from across the room as the nurse tending to them is still tending to their many, many bruises.

Price sighs heavily but agrees. After checking in on the rest of 141, he takes the four stubborn soldiers to his office where Laswell was already waiting.

"Price, and why am I not surprised; Soap, Ghost, Gaz, Tangled" She greeted the other four soldiers who nodded at her in agreement.

"C'mon Laswell don't beat around the bush" Price requested.

“Task force 333, they tend to stay under the radar, don’t really have much of a base command like you guys. But they’re a hell of a team, my proudest I’d say” Laswell starts.

“I thought we were your favorites” Tangles teases but the look Laswell gives her makes her pout.

“You are, but let’s just say they have a leg up against you guys. They’re a small team but I’ve seen them do some amazing things. There’s no doubt in my mind that whatever team you have left and theirs combined, you two will be an unstoppable force” Laswell said.

“If your that confident then I am too, bring ‘em in and we’ll talk strategy” Price says

"Okay, call what's left of your team thats not on medical leave, need to inform everyone as soon as possible” She instructed

xxx

The entirety of Task force 141 sat around the briefing room. At least those of those who we're good enough to leave the infirmary.

"Next week you guys will be going back out there" Laswell informs. A lot of the men protest with valid arguments.

"Half our team is in the infirmary for at least the next week"

"We got our asses handed to us last time"

"If we go back out there with less men than before we'll be sure as dea-"

Ghost slams his fist down on the table causing everyone to jump and shut up.

"I hope you have a plan here Laswell" Price sighs heavily as he looks around at his men that weren't in the medical wing on the building.

"There's another team I can pair you guys up with, they're smaller than you for sure, it's only 8 soldier's but the 8 of them, plus the 9 of you and the other 4 that should come back before the mission. That should be enough men to get us our target" Laswell explained.

"How do we even know they're still going to be there?" Scarecrow asked.

"They're not, but we're tracking their every move thanks to Gaz not only putting locators on their vehicles, and Tangled somehow on their helmets of a few of their men" Laswell said gesturing to the soldiers with a bandaged ribcage and a glued forehead.

"Is Cap'n still leading this mission?" Roach asked his hand rubbing circles on his aching shoulder. Laswell looked over at Price who shrugged.

"If we're bringing another task force into this then I rather work with the other Captain than take the reigns" He said.

"I'll get them down here as soon as possible, everyone take the rest of today and tomorrow off, but I expect to see you all down at the training field 0600 sharp on Friday" Laswell said. Everyone left with the exception of Ghost and Price.

"Who exactly is this 'other taskforce' that you're calling Kate?" Price asked.

"Don't worry about it Price, they'll see you Friday, 0600 sharp. I'll make sure of it" Kate smiles grabbing her phone. Ghost notices the pep in her step as she dials a certain number.

xxx

"Hey! Packup, we're going to the 141 Command base" Missus Laswell barks.

"Already packed Captain" Bug smiles innocently as she plays a game of solitaire at the coffee table.

"Bug if I go into your room and find all your clothes piled in a corner I'll take away your driving privileges" Missus says causing the Sergeant to scramble up from his seat and head to their room.

"Pain! Panic! Come in we gotta pack up!" Hades yelled out the back door at the set of twins that were playing basketball in the backyard. Pain threw the basketball at Panic causing them to groan in pain when it hit their chest. Pain chuckled nervously before bolting indoors and upstairs getting chased by her twin.

"You all packed Hades?" Missus asked.

"I never unpacked, we never stay at Otto's for more than two weeks" Hades shrugged.

"They're not wrong" Otto said walking into the kitchen opening the fridge.

"We're still very appreciative Otto that you and your wife opened your home to us" Missus reminds her.

"Home? More like Castle, we've been here over a dozen times and I still get lost on my way from the bathroom" Tick said a towel wrapped around her neck as she caught the bottle Otto tossed her.

"The house is fully equipped with a smart home system Tick, just ask Alexa for directions" Otto teased.

"Pack up guys, we're leaving for 141's base in a few hours" Missus said. The rest of the team saluted as they all left leaving their Captain with their lieutenant.

"Have you seen Athena?" Missus asked.

"I got this, Bug!" Hades called out. They heard a bedroom door open and close Bug calling out to their Lieutenant.

"Yeah Hades- ow!" Bug could be heard tripping over her own two feet.

"I got the first aid kit" Athena sighs loudly coming out of the office.

"Athena, go fix Bug then pack up, we're leaving" Missus orders causing the Lieutenant to nod her head before heading upstairs.

xxx

"How's your head Tangled?" Soap asked.

"Ask again and I crack yours open like an egg" Tangled growled.

"Bang wake up before you crack your head open" Price said gently.

"I got 'em Cap" Gaz said pulling an energy drink out of his bag. he cracked it open causing Bang's head to shoot up like a predator before looking over at the dark skinned man who chuckled offering them the drink.

"Hey Cap, where the hell is this team, didn't Laswell say 0600 sharp?" Toad asked from where he sparred with his sniper counter-part.

"I did Toad, and last time I checked it's, 0558" Laswell said walking up to the team of 10 soldiers. Bang had been cleared out of infirmary not too long after the meeting with Laswell but there were still some more guys who have confirmed they'll be good for the mission on Wednesday.

Before anyone else could say anything they watched as a helicopter that was in the distance came over flying above them. 4 ropes dropped from the helicopter, two on each side, and two people dropped from each rope.

"Thanks Dixon!" Bug cheerfully waves off the pilot who salutes them before flying off.

"0559, cutting it a bit close there aren't you honey?" Laswell smirks at the soldier standing front and center of the team. The 141 look at eachother confused as they watched the soldier take off their helmet and mask.

"Sorry love, Bug made us stop for döner on the way here" Missus said pressing a light kiss to Laswell's temple before the group looked back at Bug who was unwrapping his döner.

"Hey I got one for everyone, there's at least 19 left in this bag" Bug said taking off her mask and putting their goggles on top her helmet before taking a bite from his döner.

"I'll take one" Tangled shrugged. Bug smiles setting the lunch bag down and tossing one to the girl with the bandaid on her forehead.

"Wha' in the bloody queen's name is going on 'ere" Bang asked.

"Men, I want you all to meet Task Force 333, also known as Task Force W.I.T.C.H." Laswell said her hand on Missus's back while the taller woman had her arm around Kate's waist.

"Yer all a bunch of girls?" Archer asked.

"Not exactly, Panic and Hades are nonbinary, and Bug is genderfluid" Missus said.

"What does W.I.T.C.H stand for then" Toad asked.

"Woman in total control of herself" Athena answered.

"So yer all a bunch of girls" Archer repeats himself.

"Shut the fuck up Archer, incase you forgot Bang's nonbinary, and I'm a woman, we won't hesitate to remove your eyeballs and replace them with your testicals" Tangled shouted. Gaz shushed her gently wrapping his arms around his waist pulling her away from the sniper.

"Like I said, this is Task Force 333, you will treat them with the utmost respect because this team, has done double what you all have done, and don't underestimate them, cause as individual's, they can make your life flash before your eyes, now pair up, there's 10 of you and 8 of them, Witches choose your opponents, we have five days to get ready for this" Kate orders.

Missus smirks as she walks up to Price patting him on the back.

“Price”

“Laswell”

The two captains interacting caused the rest of 333 to suck it up and grab a partner. Hades immediately went to Tangled feeling more comfortable in the presence of a woman while Bug went to Bang. Athena partnered up with Gaz and Panic went over to Ghost. Pain smirks as she walks over to Archer Otto right behind her as she chooses Toad. Tick shrugs as she walks over to Soap leaving Scarecrow and Ozone to pair up with each other.

“Do y’all have any techniques you can teach us?” Scarecrow asked.

“Let’s do 30 minutes of sparing and we’ll switch partners and we can go from there” Price says. Missus whispers in his ear causing him to nod. “Hades, Bang, come over real quick”

The two captains discuss with 333’s Lieutenant and 141’s Staff Sergeant quickly before dismissing them.

“Begin” Kate says.

xxx

Task Force 333 smirk victoriously over half the men they had taken down and were groaning on the floor.

“That’ll teach you to mess with women” Pain says standing over Archer’s body.

"Pain honey, they're not the enemy please don't kill them" Athena says.

"He's not dead, just in pain" Pain sighs dramatically.

"We need him at his best on Wednesday kiddo, trust me I'm not happy about it either" Hades said an arm tossed over Tangled's shoulder. It's easy to assume the two of them became quick friends.

"He'll be fine, Archer and Toad are melodramatic due to being our snipers" Bang said.

"That's their only job?" Panic asked from their position next to Ghost. The two almost stood at the same height and both soldiers fairly out of breath from having the same hand to hand combat techniques.

"Well they're good at other stuff but yeah, for the most part they're our official snipers" Price says. Missus hums to herself sharing a look with the rest of her team.

"Switch" She announces. Bang and Hades immediately pair up together, Ghost this time walks over to Archer picking him off the ground, Missus picks up Toad.

"You okay there buddy?" Tangled asked as she helps Gaz off the ground.

"Might've hurt him too badly, should've told me about your ribs honey" Athena says in a motherly fashion.

"It's fine, I'll live" Gaz grunts as he gets off the ground.

"I'll take Athena, Bug looks like they're open" Tangled said gesturing to the energetic sergeant who was beaming with Tick who just patted her head.

"Bug, you're with me!" Gaz calls out. Bug smiles putting her goggles back on bouncing over to the bruised man. "Go easy on me kid" Gaz chuckles. Tangled smiles as she steps to the side with Athena.

"Pain, I got you" Soap says walking up to the woman almost his height.

"Only if you're sure" Pain shrugs. Panic chuckles patting her back as they pair up with Ozone leaving Otto with Price and Tick with Scarecrow.

xxx

"I expect you all ready by Wednesday, Witches, please behave, and someone get Bug another snack before she combusts" Laswell says before leaving.

"Hey Bug, still got those döner?" Gaz asked from the ground.

"Yeah, I haven't taken any more since I wanted you guys to get some first" Bug beams as they grab the lunch bag. They hand out the döners to the 141, who most were lying on the floor with the exception of Ghost, Tangled, and Price. Bang sat on the floor leaning against Price's leg. The rest of 333 took the last of the döner leaving one left in the bag.

"You can have the last one Bug, we know you love the food of your people" Missus says.

"Are you sure" Bug asked taking the goggles off his face. The rest of her team nodded making her beam as she took the last döner.

"I'll admit, we definitely underestimated you guys, then again I shouldn't be surprised Laswell, any team led by you is bound to be great" Price compliments.

"Don’t look at me, my team does everything themselves. I'm pretty sure half of us would be dead if it wasn't for Athena and Hades" Missus compliments causing the two Lieutenants to blush heavily.

"Well I mean Otto's the one with the PHD, we'd definitely be dead if it wasn't for her" Athena says.

"Okay but the amount of times Bug has saved us from snipers," Otto states.

"Don't look at me, Tick is the reason I'm alive today" Bug shakes her head from their seat on the floor next to Bang in front of Tangled.

"Okay but Pain and Panic are the youngest on the team and have saved our asses more than once" Tick says.

"We're only as good as our mentor" The twins say in unison causing all eyes to land on Hades.

"Shut the fuck up, all of you and eat your food" Hades hides their red face by pulling their mask back over it.

The 141 chuckles at 333's atics realizing none of the members could take a compliment.

Most of the day was spent with the two tasks forces training for an hour then taking a half hour break, a rule made by Missus which the 141 boys were grateful for due to Ghost and Price usually being ruthless with their training. Hades constantly jumped back and forth from having either Tangled or Bang as their opponent due to none of the Witches going up against each other for the chance of everyone getting a chance to train against someone they hadn't met before that day.

When lunch rolled around the two teams headed to the mess hall together in a fit of laughter and loud talking.

"You know, I really wouldn't mind working with them more often, they're really amazing" Gaz says as he watches Tangled laugh as Hades puts her in a choke hold ruffling her hair.

"How many of them you think are dykes?" Archer asks earning him a slap from Ghost.

"Just me and Missus man, both of us are taken anyways" Otto calls out over her shoulder as she and Laswell both hold up their wedding bands.

"They're a tough team that's for sure, Laswell, you think you guys could stay a little while longer, after the mission?" Price asks as the two teams stand outside the mess hall doors.

"For what reason Price, I gotta say my team's very busy" Missus says.

"Training, I know a few of my men are challenging for your team, and you witches are tough as hell, exhibit A;" Price pokes Archer’s rib cage causing the man to hiss in pain from the damage the 333 had inflicted on him. "I think we could help each other improve" Price suggests.

“Hades? This is your call kiddo” Laswell asked. Hades tilted their head side to side looking over the team of mainly men. Their eyes slightly connected with Soaps before quickly looking at Tangled.

"You think your men are up for the challenge?" Hades asked.

"We are" Tangled smirks leaning against Gaz.

"Sure wouldn't mind kicking their arses again" The twins smirk.

"What about it Price, wanna get your arse handed to you again by Athena" Bang teased from their Captain's side.

"Boys?" Price asked looking at his team who all shrugged and nodded.

"Yeah, we're up for that challenge then... Captain Laswell" Price steps up to the Captain that was just his height.

"So then be it Captain Price" Laswell smirks.

There stood the infamous 141 across from the fierce 333 in front. Unlikely pairs ready to form.

xxx

A/n: Let me know your input guys i always appreciate constructive criticism. So my plan was for Otto to be the only one in the group to not be paired with a MW2 character just to get some platonic fix’s with the teams cause those are always fun, and obviously I’m gonna make a task force 141 master list like the 333’s so I can give Tangled and Bang their own masterlists

Taglist: @fluffysmiko @abbiesxox @agspgrwasb

[littlemissmanga]

One Last Order, Part 2

A/N: I finally finished! I started this in March and brought it kicking and screaming over the finish line. And I decided to make it my entry for the "Rex" square on my Clone x Reader Bingo Card, so bonus. @clonexreaderbingo

Pairing: CT-7567/Rebels!Rex x Fem!Reader (no physical descriptions beyond age markers - gray hair/wrinkles/etc.)

Rating: E, 18+, Minors DNI

W/C: 6,402 (this got away from me I'm so sorry. I did edit, this is with about 1,000 words cut)

Warnings: Explicit intimacy, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, descriptions of depression (past if you squint) Please Read Responsibly.

Summary: The years piled on and dragged you down after your love left you. Eventually, you found renewed purpose in helping the Rebellion. When you finally have to hide away or risk being caught by the Empire, you're forced to confront your past. The question remains what will become of your future.

One Last Order, Part 1

This is right.

You kept repeating that to yourself. Over and over in your mind until you thought you could believe it.

This wasn’t the first time your arms dealing had gotten on the imperial radar. “Subversive trading” was you had called it when you first established contact with a local cell.

But it was the first time that Erie, your main point of contact, pulled you out and didn’t relocate you.

That’s what felt so wrong — the fact that you were here, in the base that acted as headquarters for the Rebel Alliance,and not still out there. You could still be out there. Stealing from the Empire right under its nose, redistributing resources and passing along the best findings to various rebel efforts. Even helping the occasional force sensitive pass unseen along your stop on the Path.

“Scowl any harder and you’ll scare everyone away.”

Erie had a brow raised, her teasing tone managing to still keep its edge as she turned to give you her full attention now that you were safely inside. Your sigh did little to relieve your worries, but you used the exhale to release some of the tension in your stance.

“I just don’t-”

“No, you don’t. That’s the point,” she was firm without being harsh as she cut off your well-worn argument. “No one in the field ever has the full picture for everyone’s safety. You’re just going to have to trust me when I say this was our only option. Otherwise, you’d be staring at the inside of an imperial cell sooner rather than later. And you’ve grown on me too much to be left out there on your own.”

A not so small seed of affection squeezed at your scarred heart and you let the corner of your mouth tilt in the smallest smile.

“Fine. Just … Just put me to work soon, okay? I want to be useful.”

“Oh, honey!” Erie barked, her sharp laugh tinged with just enough steel to make you almost regret your request. “Don’t you worry. We’ll run you ragged soon enough. For now, though, there’s not much that needs doing that isn’t already getting done. You’re allowed to take a night to adjust.”

She passed you a slip of flimsy with a rough map of the base on it. Several of the rooms were circled with descriptions.

“If I knew you were short on datapads, I’d have lifted a few before leaving. Kriff, the Rebellion must be struggling more than I realized.” You teased, bringing the page closer to your face to make out the poor writing.

“Har har. You’re a riot. That’s for safety too, smartass. Datapads can be sliced.”

Erie took your wrist in her hand to bring the page between you and pointed to a circled room on the left. Your bunk. Private for now, but she warned that would likely change soon. Your eyes tracked the path on the page as you gave a nod. “Got it. I’m going to start unpacking. Wanna help?”

“I would, but I’m needed at a mission debrief in a few.”

“Oh, okay. I’ll see you later, then.”

“Definitely. I’ll grab you before dinner and introduce you to everyone.” She answered with a brilliant smile. “Ya know, there are a couple of real cuties here you should get to know.”

Your laugh came out easy enough — as easy as it should in a lighthearted conversation with a friend. But it was a little thing, all breath and tinged with bitterness. “Oh no, I’m far too old for that nonsense.”

“You’re not. And they’re going to come sniffing even without my interference.” Erie’s eyes swept down your figure pointedly.

You know she means well, but you can’t help that the thought of anyone looking at you that way again — the way he had — makes your breath catch in your throat. It threatened to choke you.

“I’m right and I’m not arguing this.” You force a lightness into your tone you don’t feel and grab for your bags before she can respond. “Have fun at your debrief!” You call over your shoulder, heading down the hall to your quarters.

Squeezing the strap in your hand, you took a deep breath, allowing the feel of the leather against your palm and the air expanding your lungs to ground you. It stopped you from spiraling, but it didn’t stop the heat from spreading across your cheeks.

It was embarrassing, after all. You could admit that objectively. It’s been years since he left. You understood his decision then, and you understood it now. You never actually agreed with him. But you remember his eyes when he gave you that last order, begging you to listen. And you couldn’t bear to tell him no.

And so he left. Left to go do whatever it was he felt he needed.

And left you alone.

Back then, you wanted to hate him, to burn away the phantom touch of his hands on your skin, to gnash your teeth at the whisper of his name and to curse the day he came into your life.

But even as the grief permeated your every cell, moving from your mind to morph into a physical shroud that mutated your body in its image, you couldn’t find the strength to hate him.

It wouldn’t have helped anyway. It would have only calcified your pain into a tool to hurt others.

So you let the years slip by, shrinking your world into something that you could manage — your apartment, the odd jobs you took to keep yourself fed — all the while shrinking your heart and closing it off. The numbness prickled at your consciousness, but you found it more bearable than the pain of loneliness.

Of wanting him and no one and nothing else.

That is, until you got a job stocking shelves at a mechanic’s shop. A boy came in one day looking for a new filter for his air circulation system. While your boss grumbled about the difficulty of procuring pre-imperial parts, you caught sight of the insignia on the inside of the boy’s jacket as he moved to grab a handful of credits.

For the first time in longer than you’d care to say, determination had flooded your veins. You couldn’t change the past. You couldn’t walk by his side.But you could help this boy, this new movement in their fight for their better tomorrow.

And maybe, even distantly, it would help him, too.

You still didn’t let too many people get close. It’s easier this way, you had rationalized. Easier to lie. To steal. To disappear in the dead of night and start your operations over on a new planet whenever Erie tipped you off to an upcoming raid.

Now, though, as part of the Rebellion proper, you’d likely find safe distance harder to maintain.

It hadn’t been too hard to relearn the rhythm of banter between friends when you opened up to Erie. Hopefully, that will be true for the others you meet. And it won’t be too hard to scoff off attempts by any young guns set on impressing you … if Erie was to be believed about their intentions, anyway. You had serious doubts considering you were at least a decade older than most of the contacts you’ve met.

What would be hard is if you saw any of them. You knew a few had joined the ranks, offering their expertise and lifetime of training to the cause. Of course some would. It’s in their DNA. It’s all they’ve known.

It isn’t fair to them, but you weren’t sure you could handle seeing their face. His face.

You still loved him. No matter how small you made your world, made yourself, you couldn’t change just how thoroughly he claimed your heart. Even now, with Erie’s comment rattling in your brain, you could feel your stomach gurgling, pushing you to pause as you come to the next turn.

Another deep breath. In. Out.

Pulling your shoulders back, you start again … only to run into what feels like a wall when you face makes contact with hard duraplast.

Oh, kriff.

“Dank ferrik! Watch where yer going!”

The growl was unfamiliar, the tone harsher than anything he ever directed at you. But your body reacted to that voice before you could gather a rational thought. Heat surged through your blood even as cold fear sent your stomach into a freefall.

“S-sorry.” Your eyes focused on his jaw, unwilling to look higher until you caught a glimpse of a small scar on his neck.

He didn’t have that.

Tilting your head back, you finally met the man’s gaze. Luck was on your side as your eyes traced over the raised scar bisecting one eye, the cybernetic beneath analyzing you.

He didn’t have that, either.

Wolffe. You had met, briefly, when you joined the boys at 79’s a lifetime ago. But it was just the once, and if luck continued smiling on you, he wouldn’t remember a thing.

“I’m, uh, new. I was just focusing on finding my way and wasn’t paying attention to much else. Sorry about that,” you said, forcing a small smile to ease the tension. From what you remember hearing among the guys, there wasn’t much that could ease the overwhelming aura of Commander Wolffe. But hey, it couldn’t hurt to try.

“Better learn to multitask, then.”

You tried to ignore the way his eyes narrowed at you. “Sure thing. Sorry again. See you around.” The words tripped off your tongue with less grace than your feet as you clumsily slipped past the clone commander to continue down the hall.

You could feel his intense glare burning your back all the way to your room.

*****************

Callused fingers slid back and forth across his forehead in a vain attempt to alleviate his headache. The mission had been a success, technically. It still took all his self control not to drill the crew of the Ghost for their sloppiness.

They were a solid bunch, but by the Maker they made things needlessly difficult. The debrief took far longer than necessary just cataloging all the supplies that didn’t make it home. It almost — almost — made him nostalgic for his more regimented days in the GAR.

He did miss assigning latrine duty to mouthy troopers. Too bad he enjoyed the freedom of the rebellion a little more.

Leaving the briefing room, Rex strode down the hall toward the mess, heavy footsteps rebounding down the durasteel as he checked his comm. Curiously, it had gone off during his meeting. Everyone who had his frequency was either in the room with him or had just returned and was settling in for their respective post-mission routines.

His curiosity only grew upon seeing the culprit was Wolffe. His brother never interrupted a meeting, the GAR indoctrination still proving pervasive in his mind. Slightly worried and even more curious, Rex hit the redial button.

“Finally,” Wolffe grumbled through the comm as his likeness was projected above Rex’s wrist.

“Remind me never to rely on you for patience, vod,” he teased, unable to resist riling up his brother even more. “What’s up?”

“New meat on base. I bumped into her earlier.”

“Knock it off,” Rex snapped. His small frustration from earlier immediately flared into pissed off. Wolffe knew better. “My answer is still no.”

“I have a feeling that’s gonna change this time.”

Rex’s nostrils flared and he could feel his anger spreading, tensing his muscles as if he were in the heat of battle. “Never.”

And he meant it. It didn’t help and never would.

He couldn’t regret the path he took. He had been the difference between life and death for so many brothers … and so many others since then. But with every breath he regretted what he had done to you. That last look you had given him still cut deep. Too deep to ever heal.

“When are you gonna learn that your ori’vod is always right?” The grin that curled over Wolffe’s face gave new meaning to the term wolfish.

Rex was about to tell him to shove it, but Wolffe beat him to it, silencing him with just two words.

“It’s her.”

*****************

Releasing one last breath, you sunk into the mattress beneath you, finally feeling the tension leech from your limbs.

Seeing Wolffe had shaken you, and you allowed yourself a few minutes to fall apart in the privacy of your room. You let the sting of what was lost crest over you. It passed through at a steady pace, neither rushing nor lingering, giving you time to refocus and recenter. Each inhale pushing it to the edges of your body, each exhale banishing it to the fringes of your mind. For now.

Roughly passing your palms over your eyes to dry them, you shifted your focus to your bags. The task at hand should distract you. Moving through the motions always helped you put the past back where it belonged. Besides, Erie would be done with her debrief soon and the Force alone knew how long she planned on dragging you around the base tonight.

A small smile unfurled on your lips a while later as a light knock reverberated through the door. You tossed the rest of your yet-to-be-folded clothes into the chest that lay at the food of the bed and began speaking as you walked over to the control panel, projecting so Erie could hear you on the other side.

“And here I was thinking you forgot about—”

But when the door slid open, your friend wasn’t on the other side. Where her eyes should have been stood a wall of muscle, evident even behind the chest plate. It was dingy, scuffed armor that had seen better days after too much fighting, flecks of blue paint hanging on for dear life as if determined not to fade into obscurity.

“Me.” The last word came out a whisper without your consent, your bold tease fizzling into insecurity.

If you had been hesitant to meet Wolffe’s eyes, you were obstinate in your determination to keep your gaze straight on that armor. You had never been strong, never claimed to be. But this was a new type of weakness, foreign as it flooded your bones. Your jaw trembled as all your effort was focused on holding back the surge you could feel coming.

“Oh, mesh’la.”

His sigh nearly undid you, and you could feel yourself blinking rapidly, your body fighting just to hold steady. You could. You just needed a moment.

But it seemed he had other plans. It was gentle; of course it was. He was always so kriffing gentle with you. Even when you had taunted him, teased him into being rough, it never lasted. He had spoken to you gently, guided you gently, held you gently, loved you gently.

He had broken you gently.

And now, as those damned fingers pressed under your chin to force your gaze upward, they were so heart-achingly gentle, opening the old wounds anew. He was a man built for battle. And yet you found his most brutal side in his gentleness.

Unable to resist — you never were good at denying him — you finally met his gaze.

“I could never forget you.”

Your heart squeezed painfully hearing the words you’d longed for as his rich brown eyes swept over you, taking you in. It stuttered at the thought of what he must be seeing. Mussed hair with so many more grays than before. Crow’s feet that spread from the corners of your eyes to your temples with various other lines crossing your face, interrupted only by the freckles and sunspots you’ve collected over the years.

You weren’t usually vain. But you wore the years plainly on your face … and on your body. At least if I’d been able to put on a clean shirt, you lamented.

The self-deprecation was like a jolt to your brain, bringing you back to yourself, to the present. Rex was here, in your doorway, fighting for the rebellion. It makes sense. That’s what he set off to do all those years ago. But you never let yourself wonder what he was actually doing for fear your wonderings would lead to knowledge you couldn’t survive: Him not being with you was painful; him not being was unimaginable.

But before you stood confirmation that he was alive and well.

And not once did he try to contact you.

Clearing your throat quietly, you plastered a smile on your face, the one you reserved for difficult customers and nosey neighbors, and prayed it didn’t look at stiff as it felt.

“Well, you’re not Erie.” Your tone was light and sounded artificial even to you.

Rex’s responding laugh was just as fake. “No, I’m definitely not.”

His hand dropped back to his side, but his eyes remained locked on yours, searching. For what, you couldn’t guess, and even if you could, you weren’t sure if it still existed. But you are sure that whatever is going to happen next won’t happen in the public hallway.

“Do you want to come in?” You asked, pulling back, pulling away, pivoting to let him pass to enter your room.

“Thank you.” He paused once he took a few steps in. No longer restricted to the GAR meal plan, he had filled out. His broad shoulders almost grazed the sides of the doorway as he passed through, and while his muscles were still evident, they were covered pleasantly by a layer of healthy fat that made him seem even larger than how he loomed in your memory.

As you glanced down, you caught sight of his hands, curling into fists only to unfurl and curl again. The thought that he could be just as unsettled in that moment as you felt was jarring … but welcome.

You moved to sit on your bed, gesturing to the other end for him lacking another option.

“Looks like you’re already settled in,” he noted, shifting to bend one leg to turn to face you. He wore his years, too. But they looked much better on him. His blonde hair was gone, shaved down to the skin. The full white beard was new, too, and rather impressive.

It helped that he looked different. Helped you feel like you could get through this without embarrassing yourself. And you wanted to. You wanted at least to be able to talk to him as a friend again. He may not want you the way he used to, but you could be cordial to a fellow rebel.

“Yeah, didn’t have much to unpack. I guess that’s the bright side of a last-minute extraction.” The tint of humor colored your voice a little more naturally. Confidence trickled slowly, but it was there. You clung to it like a lifeline.

“Extraction? What the kark were you up to that needed an extraction?”

Your eyes cut to his, challenging his sharp tone with your own. “What I could. What, did you think I’d be a good little citizen of the Empire?”

The hit landed better than any punch you could throw. He recoiled, if only slightly.

Guilt curdled your stomach. You didn’t want it to go this way, for the accusation to fill your voice even though you left it out of your words. But you couldn’t help that small, dark, nasty piece of who you used to be that wanted him to feel a fraction of what he put you through.

“I’m sorry. That wasn’t fair. I didn’t … I didn’t want to be angry if we ever met again,” you confessed, catching the corner of your lip between your teeth. “And besides, I likely would have ended up here anyway.”

You moved to pick at your already threadbare sheet as the silence coagulated around you, thick and heavy.

“No, it was fair. More than.”

You found yourself mirroring his deep breath as he continued.

“You never were one to rest on your laurels. I just … I always liked imagining you on your home planet or somewhere in the Outer Rim, curating your library or working on your crafts. Something peaceful, on a peaceful planet far away from the mess of the Empire.”

The hint of a smile touched the corners of his mouth as the weight of his admission settled around you. You didn’t want it to comfort you.

And yet …

When Rex left, he said it was his duty to find and save his brothers. To do that, he needed to leave you behind. You always understood that to mean you couldn’t keep up. You would be a liability to his mission, one he couldn’t risk.

And yet …

“You thought about me?”

Rex’s eyes hardened, singularly focused on you as he reached out to grab your hand. Even now, as a fire you refused to name burned clearly in his eyes, he was still achingly gentle in his touch.

“I thought about you every day.” He spoke almost insultingly slowly, every word bursting with intention. “You were the thought that kept me going.”

“Then why-” You swallowed down the crack in your voice, hating how it revealed just how tenuous your control was. Rex moved closer to you, bringing his hand up to your cheek, but you leaned away and pushed it down. Gently.

“Why didn’t you come back? You never even commed.”

“I had to keep you safe-”

The speed with which he was ready to spit out the answer, like he had rehearsed it, fanned the flames licking up your spine, forging it to steel.

“That’s osik and you know it. No one is safe from the Empire, and-”

“And I realized that. Took longer than it should have to get through my thick skull, but it did. Wolffe and Gregor helped get that lesson in. So I went back to Coruscant. And you were gone.”

The shock from his admission kept you frozen so that when Rex reached for you again, you let his palm curve around your cheek. You had left Coruscant a few years after the fall of the Republic, unable to stay in the shadow of your lost life.

If you hadn’t ...

“When I couldn’t find you on planet, I convinced myself it was for the best. I had been a coward when I left. I hurt you. I thought it was to protect you, but I think even then I knew I was keeping myself safe more. Me leaving meant I would never have to see you in danger. So when I saw you also left, it meant you moved on. You weren’t hurting anymore. You were starting a new life … just like I told you to.”

His thumb moved back and forth across the dry skin of your cheek as he pulled you forward. You fell into him, your hands braced on his knees as he pressed his forehead against yours.

“But that was an excuse. I was still just a coward. I didn’t know what I could say to you that would do any good and … I didn’t want to see someone else next to you, living the life I wanted.” His eyes closed before he continued. “You deserve the galaxy, and I didn’t know how to give it to you. I still don’t.”

It was a confession saturated with guilt and shame. It crawled over you as your tears finally slipped past your control to pool against his thumb.

Safe from the weight of his gaze, you gave a confession of your own. “I never wanted the galaxy. I only ever wanted you.”

Rex’s eyes snapped open, and you could feel his heavy breaths matching yours. Before he had the chance to say anything, you pushed the words out of your mouth, letting the purest truth you knew pour out of you.

“I didn’t leave to start over. I left to escape. The opportunity to help the rebellion came to me, so I took it. It was my way of fighting against the thing that stole you from me. And … And if I did my job right, if I smuggled enough blasters, and med packs, and rations, then I wasn’t just helping the rebellion. I was keeping you safe, too.”

It wasn’t everything. It was barely enough. But you needed him to know, beyond a doubt, that your heart always had been and always will be only his.

“The thought that I could be helping you was what kept me going.”

His grip on you tightened, pulling you impossibly closer. “Can-” Now it was his voice that broke. “Can I kiss you? Please, sweetheart, can I-”

Maybe at one point, a younger you would have kept your composure, would have remained determined not to let Rex see just how desperate he could still make you.

But time had taught you well just how fleeting it could be. And you knew pride was nothing compared to the feeling of your love on your lips.

So, there was no hesitation as you closed the distance, answering the ache in his voice with the frantic press of your lips to his. The brush of his beard was foreign, the hair scraping and chafing your skin. But you couldn’t care when the familiar touch of his kiss grounded you, made you feel whole and alive in a way you forgot possible.

It hurt, feeling the small, shriveled thing you had allowed your heart to become taking up room in your chest once again, filling up with nothing but him — the feel of his skin on yours, the smell of his soap tickling your nose, the sound of the small noises that escaped his lips as he devoured yours in turn.

But it was a pain you’d welcome a thousand times over if it meant Rex’s mouth stayed on yours. This wasn’t just a kiss. It was a rebirth, the two of you breathing new life into one another.

You shivered as his tongue slid along your bottom lip. A whimper betrayed your need and you opened for him, letting him explore what has always been his. Blood roared in your ears, and you cursed it for drowning out the sound of his groan as his tongue danced along yours.

Pressing yourself ever closer, your hands slid up his impossibly thick thighs for balance as you leaned into him, needing to feel him everywhere. Thank the Force Rex understood. He always did, after all. He lifted you with ease to pull you into his lap, his arms wrapping securely around you to keep you in place as your legs slid around his waist.

But then he pulled his face away, holding you firm as your hands curled around his shoulders and your lips tried to chase him.

“I’m sorry, sweet girl.” His eyes pierced into you, and you could see how determined he was for his apology to reach you. “So, so sorry.”

“It’s-”

“Don’t say it’s okay. It’s not.” There was the captain you remembered, his tone curtailing any argument before you could even raise one. “But if you’ll let me, I plan on spending every spare moment I have making things right.”

He softened, but his eyes were just as intense. “You don’t have to answer right away. I want you to be sure; no regrets. Because if you say yes, mesh’la …” His arms tighten around you, the pressure of his strength sparking delightfully across your torso as every ounce of insecurity melted from your body and his lips moved to graze your ear. “I’m never letting you go again.”

“Please don’t,” You beg, barely letting him finish. “Please don’t ever let me go. Hold me, claim me, make me yours. Build a future with me so I never have to live without you again. Choose me ... the way I never stopped choosing you.”

The silence in the wake of your plea lasted only as long as a single heartbeat. Then, something in Rex shattered.

He may have broken you gently, but he was going to rebuild you roughly.

Coarse hands lifted you again as if you weighed nothing, throwing you onto your bed and knocking the breath from your lungs. Before you could even think, Rex was on you, his hips pressing you into the mattress as his hands slid up and down your sides.

“I do choose you.” You shiver at the growl in his throat as the words slide down your spine to pool deep in your belly. His hands slide under the thin fabric of your tunic, and you preen as his fingertips dance along your skin. “And I’ll keep choosing you. Let me prove it. Can I show you, pretty girl? Show you how I can take care of you?” 

Your eyes slipped closed as his indulgent tone; your core fluttered at the dark promises dripping from his lips. But a quick, sharp sting on your neck pulls you back.

“Eyes on me,” he reprimanded, though his smirk as he licked the skin red from his nip betrayed his amusement. “I need an answer, mesh’la.”

“Yes! Yes, please. Stars, Rex, show me!”

You should be embarrassed by how quickly you cave for him. But how can you be when Rex wasted even less time in claiming your mouth again, all tongue and teeth as he left no part untouched. You reveled in the attention, undulating hips demanding even more as your hands trailed along the broad curve of his shoulders. You followed the line of muscle down his arms, feeling as they shifted with the movements of his own hands.

Hands that locked around your hips and forced them to still. “Not yet.”

His admonishment wasn’t quite enough to dissuade you from challenging him. You pushed your core against his length, leaving you breathless at how perfectly it pressed against where you needed most.

Rex’s responding moan reverberated through you pleasantly. His dark chuckle, however, gave you pause. You’d heard it maybe once or twice, and you knew it meant trouble.

“I said …” He moved so his legs straddled yours, his full weight holding you still as he held both your wrists in one hand above your head. “Not. Yet.”

You pushed against his grip, needing to put your hands on him again, to feel him. Every inch of you needed to be touching every inch of him now.

“Please, Rex. Please, I need …” Your desperation stole your words and turned them to whines. This wasn’t the first time you felt carnal desire since he left. But you had always just taken care of yourself, quick and efficient, turning pleasure into a task like any other.

Now, you were consumed by your need.

A sweet kiss graced your lips lightly before Rex hushed you.

“I know, sweetheart. I know. But I’m going to take my time with you. It’s been so long, and I wanna take care of you right. You’re going to come undone on my tongue …” At this, his tongue made itself known as he licked a steady stripe up the side of your next, pouring fuel on the inferno raging just under your skin.

“On my fingers …” His free hand trailed over the wet skin, continuing past your neck, over your collarbone to tease mercilessly at the top of your breast.

“And once I feel you’re ready, you’ll come all over my cock.” Rex brought one of your hands down to the front of his pants, letting you feel his hardness through his trousers. “But you’ll need to be good and listen. Can you do that?”

You nod, whipping your head up and down, willing him to give you exactly what he promised now but groaning when he moves your hand away from him.

“Wound up this bad already? I believe that’s a new record. You need to use your words, pretty girl.”

You wanted to slap him for his teasing, but your pointed glare would have to suffice. “No shit it’s a record. I’ve been waiting,” you huffed.

Rex stilled. “Have…Have you not …?”

You could feel the heat returning to your cheeks so you answered before he could find his words if only to cut your own embarrassment short.

“No. I mean I took care of myself, but…”

Unbridled lust was the only thing you saw when you met Rex’s eyes again. “Then I won’t make you wait any longer.”

Using his grip on your wrists, he pulled you up and with a speed you didn’t realize he had, he stripped your tunic from your body. Before you could even register the cold pebbling your nipples, he moved to your waistband, peeling your underwear and leggings down in one move, pausing only to pull your shoes off before you’re completely bare before him.

“Kriff, Rex,” you huffed, impressed as Rex cast off his chest piece with as little regard as possible.

But the man above you focused only on your newly revealed form. You moved to touch him in return, hoping to hide a few of the new rolls of your abdomen against his.

You should have realized by now tonight was going his way.

“Let me see you, ner mesh’la karta,” he commanded. You didn’t want to, but since you never thought you’d ever get to hear another order from your captain, you obeyed, laying back and following his eyes with yours as they took you in.

He leaned down, dragging his lips over your stomach to graze the bottom of your breast with his teeth. Gently, but with the threat of rough just under the surface.

You wanted both … everything … anything he would give you.

“Perfect.” You keened at the praise, lifting and offering yourself to his mouth and earning a smile in return. “Oh yes, I remember …”

His tongue ran across your nipple before he blew softly, sending a shudder through you. You didn’t suffer long before he wrapped his lips around your peak and sucked hard. Nothing could have stopped the cry that spilled out of you as your back arched, your body mindlessly giving him even more access.

And he took every inch you gave. Releasing you with a satisfying pop, Rex reached up to turn you to face him with one hand as the other moved down your body to rest just at your mound.

“Spread your legs for me. Be a good girl and show me that pretty little pussy of yours.”

You pulled your knees up and wrapped your hands around them to pull them apart and hide how he made you tremble. The cool air, made colder from your slick, tickled your sensitive skin. But it was the reverent hunger on Rex’s face that made your cunt clench around nothing.

“Please, Rex. I—”

He didn’t let you finish your pathetic plea, instead diving forward, his movements just as desperate as you felt. His hands encircled your thighs, pushing them even further apart as he buried his face into your core and let his tongue sink into your wet hole with a satisfied moan.

His tongue laved against you, determined to touch every inch of you before gliding up to circle your clit. As your breathy whimpers turned into full-fledged cries, you absentmindedly hoped that the walls around you were thicker than they looked before Rex wrapped his lips around your nub and sucked.

A moan erupted from deep within you as your muscles contracted and sent a gush of arousal spilling out of you, leaving you unable to care who heard.

“Stars, already so wet for me. You taste like a dream.” His eyes pierced you from where he lay between your legs. “Keep your hands where they are and hold yourself open for me.”

You mewled in response as he returned to his task with his fingers now aiding in the effort, finding your clit with ease as his tongue entered you once again. His free hand slides up to rest on your tummy, pressing down but not enough to keep you still. But just enough so you can feel him as your hips kept their frantic undulation going, your body demanding the release he promised.

“That’s it,” he groaned to himself more than to you. “Good girl, taking what you need.”

Picking up the pace, Rex kept his fingers moving in tighter and tighter circles, keeping pace with your frenzied keening as he fucked you with his tongue.

“Kriff, Rex … so close … so … S-shit shit shit shit-”

He pushed down harder on your pelvis, amplifying every spark he ignited at your core as his fingers moved ever faster. “Let go, mesh’la. Let go and don’t you dare fucking hold back. Give it to me!”

Your captain gave an order. What else could you do but obey?

You shattered around him, your scream echoing against his satisfied groan as he drank from your cunt with a fierce intensity. His fingers and tongue never stopped as he forced your orgasm out of you, working you well past overstimulation into boneless compliance as you gave everything he demanded.

Eventually, the aftershocks faded. Rex’s ministrations eased, though he never took his hands off you, letting his fingers trail gently along your lips and restoking the fire in you that burned only for him.

“I love you, Rex,” you sighed, relief flooding you as the words finally escaped you after years locked away.

Rex smiled with only a tinge of sadness in his eyes speaking to lost time before he rest his head against the softness of your thigh, pressing a kiss to your skin.

“I love you, too, sweetheart.”

“Don’t leave me again?” You meant it as a command, but you had none of Rex’s natural authority. Well, that and your post-orgasmic state hindered what strength your voice could have had, leaving the order sounding more like a needy whine.

“Never.” Rex slid his hand back down, gathering your slick to sink two thick fingers deep into you. “Now, I believe I said something about you coming on my fingers next.”

Thankfully for you, Rex was a man of his word. He never left your side again. He kept the rest of his promises, too.

Taglist (for those you commented on pt. 1): @mzfandom @wings-and-beskar

[def-initely-soul]

Burn The Witch {4}

a/n: hello everyone it's been a while. I have no idea if anyone is still around or still interested in this, but here's the fourth part! don't know when i'll update again, figured i should upload this chapter since its been in my drafts for a while

pairing:  yoongi x reader (f.)

genre: supernatural; angst; mystery; magical society AU; magicals!AU

rating: PG-15

warnings: violence; emotional abuse; blood; bullying; mentions of murder; mature language; panic attack

words: 5.6k

summary:

↠ {a boy who keeps running away, a girl who can’t seem to no matter how much she tries and a series of murders caught all in between of the cracks spread through what appears as a quiet little town…} ↞

or alternatively, not everything is always what it seems

previous part: {3}

.

.

It’s a slow day at “Selkie’s Place” when Yoongi pays you a visit, two days after the second murders. 

Trusting him still feels naïve but you can’t help but do it, and it scares you. You’re putting so much faith in him. Too much faith. Blindly trusting someone like this can only lead to disappointment, you know this well enough. But it’s hard not to trust him. And you’re terrified. 

When he steps into the pub it takes a whole lot of effort to get Mona to stop pestering him and move along to her other duties. Of course, you didn’t tell her the truth about your sudden partnership, instead opting for an inconspicuous story of making a new friend during interspecies studies. But, of course, she had to see for herself. Resulting in an almost interrogation of Yoongi about how the two of you met. 

“She seems nice...” he comments afterwards. He waves at Mona from the couch he’s sitting on, who waves back at him from behind the bar. 

You rest your hand at the back of the couch, watching the whole interaction with a careful smile. “She usually is. Today was a surprise for both of us...” you shrug before turning your attention back at him. Wondering what made him choose “Selkie’s Place” of all places for your conversation. 

“You know this meeting could’ve happened at uni, right? No need for you to come here...” you raise an eyebrow and now it’s his turn to shrug. 

“Better this way. Less eyes watching. After all, the person incriminating you could be someone from campus,” he takes a tentative sip of his beer. Your suspicion grows. 

Maybe he’s not just thinking of being under the radar. Maybe he’s not completely unaffected from everyone else’s opinion and he’s afraid to be seen with you. Could that really be the case? 

No. You wouldn’t peg Yoongi as someone who cares about other people’s opinions. He does what he wants and that’s the end of it. 

But what if this town managed to get him? What if by living in such a remote place, the people’s beliefs became his own? What if he’s rethinking the whole thing? 

You try to shake off the doubts creeping in your mind. They won’t do you any good for now. 

“So, you think someone is incriminating me then,” you ponder instead. 

Yoongi looks at you unimpressed. “Given the circumstances of those murders, I’d say it’d be too much of a coincidence. Someone is definitely trying to put the blame on you,” he replies sternly, confident in his logic. You find it hard to argue. 

At least someone else believes you. 

“So, what do you suggest we do?” you ask while taking a careful look around the pub. Just because you’re meeting here instead of campus, doesn’t mean you’re completely safe. 

“Me?” he raises an eyebrow as he crosses his arms. 

You shrug. “You’re the Sherlock here, Sherlock.” The reply has a smile growing on Yoongi and he leans towards you. 

“And I suppose you’re my Watson then?” 

At that you can’t help but scoff. Nevertheless, a grin is threatening to spill on your lips. “No, that would make me the unwilling victim that paid too much at your agency.” 

Yoongi’s smile doesn’t falter. “You’re not paying me though.” 

“Is store-credit okay?” 

He shakes his head with a chuckle before leaning against his seat. “I was thinking of taking a look,” is his cryptic answer, eyes following the costumers around the pub. 

This doesn’t satisfy your curiosity though. “Taking a look where?” 

Yoongi is still nonchalantly people-watching when he replies. “The Kim’s estate.” 

Your eyes almost pop out of their sockets. 

“Where?! Are you mad?! The place will be flooding with Magaux!” you respond incredulously. You’re not willing to take a step into this place, it will be filled with your worlds equivalent for the police! If someone were to catch you there, no evidence would be needed for your arrest. 

“This might be our only chance...” Yoongi continues calmly, ignoring your sudden outburst. 

“To get arrested?” you level with him but he rolls his eyes, not at all worried about his idea. 

You can’t believe you’re hearing this! He can’t be serious. 

“To find out anything concerning the identity of the perpetrator! Or would you rather just to sit by idly as everyone else pins this too on you?” it’s his turn to look at you with irritation in his eyes. Your mouth runs dry from words to say. You hadn’t thought of it that way. You should have. 

“I...” you mumble taken aback, before you turn your eyes away. “I didn’t mean it like that...” you mutter in response. Yoongi exhales tiredly. 

“Look, I know you don’t feel comfortable with this, but it’s our best shot at finding out anything. As for the magaux they cleared the scene not long before the second murders happened. The Kim estate will be empty by now,” his voice is soft, almost comforting and you turn to face him again. The determination and hope in his eyes strangely calm you down. 

“How are we going to get in?” you make your decision and Yoongi smiles. 

“Can you teleport?” 

You nod. 

“There’s how,” he announces entirely too pleased with himself, and you roll your eyes as you fight the urge to smile. 

“I say we meet and teleport straight into the house, not to raise any alarms, hm?” he takes another sip of his beer, and you nod again. 

That’s when you see it. 

Yoongi goes on about the details of your plan, but your eyes are trained at the glass window behind him. Did you just see something move? 

There’s just darkness outside. Just a heavy, unending black. Your eyes must be playing tricks on you. 

But then you see it again. And this time it’s clearer.  

What you thought was only black, quickly proves to be a shadow. A shapeless figure, much like the one you saw at that empty classroom. Unnerving, ever-present. 

Your breath hitches. Yoongi’s voice becomes a faint buzz as your heartbeat rises when the figure suddenly appears closer to the window. 

But the figure is almost the same colour as the night. You’re not sure what you’re seeing is real.  

It seems as if you’re staring at nothing. 

But “nothing” stares back. 

And blinks. 

“Y/N!” 

You jump in your spot, tension suddenly dissipating. You glance at Yoongi disoriented, who looks at you with a wary expression. Then you take a look at the window again. But there’s nothing there. 

“You okay?” Yoongi’s voice sounds as if you’re underwater. It gradually grows stronger, pulling you back to reality with it. You shake your head. It was nothing, you saw nothing. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine...” you clear your throat, unable to meet his eyes. You’re afraid he’ll see right through you. “I just got distracted, sorry. What were you saying?” 

Yoongi’s gaze is suspicious, but he decides to say nothing. “That we should meet at my house to discuss somethings beforehand. Just to be careful about this. Wouldn't want to get caught now, would we?” he explains with an easy smile. And while you agree with the general idea, you have one small objection. 

“Okay, but it’d be better if it was at my house instead. I still can’t quite get the hang of teleporting from anywhere outside my house,” you reply, and Yoongi looks worried at that. 

“Then will you be able to teleport us to your house afterwards?” he asks with concern, and you nod. 

“It just takes a bit more energy. Figured I’d keep whatever energy I can for leaving,” you shrug. Only now you realise that means Yoongi will have to actually come to your house. 

It’s been so long since anyone stepped foot in your home, besides you and Mona. You’ll need to do some cleaning beforehand, just in case. 

Yoongi nods as he thinks it over, tapping his finger on his chin before he shrugs. “Okay, if you’re sure you can do it...” he comments. Although his tone shifts something in you. As if your pride got wounded.  

Sure, you’re used to that. It seems to be everyone’s personal chore in this hellhole of a town, but coming from Yoongi, makes you want to prove him wrong. To prove you’re not just some helpless victim, to prove you’re someone capable. Someone strong. 

You can do it. You know you can. 

And him doubting you makes you angry. 

“I’m sure,” you say, and your tone raises no questions. No room for doubt fits in your words and your hair curl at the ends with magic as it seeps out of you with every burst of feeling. You’re not weak. That’s the only thing you’ve never been. 

Yoongi’s stare is indecipherable as thunder roars outside. Your chest rises quickly with every worked-up breath. 

But then he smiles. “That’s more like it.” 

. 

. 

You watch anxiously as Yoongi steps inside your home, two days later. It’s the only day you’re free from work, so the only day you’d be able to do this. You wanted the whole day off to prepare for what you’re about to do. 

You mainly slept and ate, to replenish your energy and be ready for later. And also downed more than three cups of coffee. Although that could maybe turn out to be a bad idea. You’re not sure yet. 

You're curious to see how Yoongi will take in your home but nothing really reveals much about his thoughts. Not when he stares up at the massive wooden staircase with Alistair curled around the banister, or when his eyes meet the stone walls covered with paintings of your relatives. 

Your familiar stares at the man in the middle of your lobby, thoughtfully take in your home and strangely he has nothing to say. The fox only stares at the vampire man with a mild curiosity and a slight apathy. Yoongi, to his credit, acknowledges the fox with a small tip of his head forward but then he keeps on looking around. 

Alistair’s familiar voice appears in your head.  

Do we trust him? 

You give him what you hope is a warning glare. 

Be nice Ali. 

You swear you see him almost roll his eyes. 

I’m always nice. 

A snort breaks free from your lips that has Yoongi look at you with a questioning gaze. 

You wave him off with your hand. “It’s nothing...” you reply when you decide to tease your familiar. “Ali seems to like you.” 

The question doesn’t leave Yoongi’s eyes. “Ali?” 

“My familiar...” you move closer to point at Alistair at the top of the stairs who stares at you with a nearly murderous gaze. “His real name is Alistair, but he doesn’t like being called Ali in front of strangers...” you chuckle with Yoongi’s eyes on you. Alistair gets up from his position and stretches before sitting on his back legs on a graceful but indignant pose. 

Your smile grows. 

Yoongi turns to your familiar and nods his head again. “I’m Yoongi. Nice to meet you Alistair.” 

Ali looks at him carefully before his voice reappears. 

He’s okay... for now. 

Then he tips his head towards Yoongi and turns around to hide in your room. 

You chuckle once more at the quizzical look on Yoongi’s face. “Okay, now he really seems to like you.” 

Yoongi sighs in relief. “I’m glad. Wouldn’t want to get on your familiar’s bad side...” he replies while turning his eyes upwards to your high ceiling. His gaze turns awed when he sees the ancient magic decorating the glass ceiling and how the endless night outside meets the floating lights underneath your roof. 

“What is this...?” he asks in wonder, mouth falling open at the sight above him. 

Another smile takes over your lips. “My father did it. When I was young, I used to say how much I loved the floating lights in the sky. I would sit awake for hours trying to come up with spells to bring them closer to me. I thought if I tried hard enough, I could bring them in my room and have them on my ceiling and then I could say “I have the floating lights in my room!”. So, one day my dad brought home some small crystal balls, filled them with starlight and enchanted them to float forever beneath our glass ceiling. To accompany the real floating lights in the night sky,” you reminisce as one of the floating lights slowly descends to meet your open hand.  

It’s warmth travels through your skin, reminding you of that time you tried to catch them with a floating spell of your own. Back then, you didn’t know you weren’t supposed to chase them. The starlight would come to you instead. 

“And to make sure I didn’t accidently cause earth’s collision with a star,” you add on with a chuckle. 

“Your dad could catch starlight?” Yoongi asks still in awe, but his eyes are on you now. 

“It was his individual power.” 

“And what is yours?” he asks curiously. 

At that your smile drops. 

You shrug. “I don’t know.” 

Both of you remain silent. Yoongi’s gaze doesn’t leave you but where you thought you’d see pity you see nothing but understanding. He doesn’t say anything along the lines of “I’m sorry,” or “That must be hard,”. He just lets you be. 

You don’t know what else to say so you focus on the issue at hand. “Okay, so are we ready for this?” is your impatient question as you let the small ball float back into place. 

Yoongi stares for another moment before he clears his throat. “Yeah, just a few things first. We need to be really discreet. There might not be any Magaux there but there should be some monitor spells lying around. So, we have to be careful. And we shouldn't split up. I know it’ll take more time but it’s safer this way,” Yoongi explains, all seriousness and even though you agree, you can’t resist the urge to tease him. 

“Is someone afraid?” you can’t hide your teasing smile and Yoongi scoffs as he tries to hide his own. 

“Me? Please. I’m just saying this for you...” he smirks, and you roll your eyes. 

“Alright, let’s do this,” you take his hand in yours as you close your eyes and recount the spell in your mind. 

You feel the familiar rush of magic travelling through your body, the magic of your home helping you in the process and then you open your eyes. 

But it didn’t work. 

You stare confused at your joined hands. This is weird. 

Yoongi looks concerned. “Is something the matter?” 

“That hasn’t happened before...” you mumble in disbelief, worry filling your mind. 

“Maybe it’s because we’re two people. Have you tried teleporting with another person before?” Yoongi casually drags his hands away from yours. You’re too worried about your powers to notice the crimson hue spreading over his cheeks. 

“I-… No, I haven’t but I don’t think that’s it...” your confusion is palpable as you close your eyes to try again. 

Once more you feel the familiar pull on your gut as your magic concentrates. This time you feel a bit more of it, now that it’s just you, but when you’re about to cross over you feel the difference. There’s something blocking you. Your powers work just fine, moving you along the spell just as they’re supposed to but when it’s time to land, you feel a wall blocking your path. 

“There must be a blocking spell on the estate...” you realise out loud and Yoongi curses softly. 

“Now what? Should we walk all the way there? Someone might see us,” he says in thought, thinking of possible solutions to your problem but you raise an eyebrow. It's simpler than that. 

“...Or we could just teleport outside the estate and walk to the front door?” 

. 

. 

“Okay, now that we’re here how do we get in?” 

This time, you’re successfully teleported outside of the estate, so you resulted in walking the rest of the way. The blocking spell shimmers as soon as you pass the front gate. You fight a shiver at the peculiar sensation.  

True to Yoongi’s words the scene seems cleared, no Magaux anywhere in sight. The Kim’s estate appears larger up close. The building is still standing, yet black spots of fire and ruin grace its appearance and a cold chill runs down your bones.  

The lights are out, the house an imposing structure despite its condition, the smell of ashes wafting through the air. You can’t believe this place was full of life just two weeks ago. 

That it wasn’t just a ruin. 

“The normal way,” Yoongi responds as he climbs the stairs to the front door. You follow close behind. 

“Through the front door? How do you know it doesn’t have any monitoring spells?” you inquire with careful step, wary of making too much noise. 

Yoongi smirks at you but instead of going through the front door, he nears a broken window to the side. The floor creaks with his steps, a contrast to the silence of the night. You resist the urge to shiver. 

He leans in, just barely through the window. He looks around the windowsill, as if looking for something. Once he’s satisfied, he leans back outside with a winning smile. “No monitoring spells here.” 

Your gaze is suspicious. “How can you tell?” 

He waves you over and you both lean inside to take a peek in what seems to be the living room. “Usually monitoring spells have a tell; they must have a beeper nearby to help them keep running for the desired time. The latest versions don’t need it, hence the increase in their price. I doubt Xefoto’s Magaux can afford them...” he comments. You lean more inside, and he points over your shoulder towards a small rectangle metallic box just above the door. 

“Now that’s a beeper. Which means this door is monitored,” he explains as he steps inside the window. Once he’s safely inside he stretches his hand towards you.  

You take it with a careful yet amazed gaze. “How do you know all that?” you move inside, wary of dragging anything with you. You finally place both legs inside before dragging your hand away. 

Yoongi simply shrugs as his eyes move to the interior. “I’m studying to become a Magau. It’s stuff I should know,” he chuckles as he takes a step inside. 

You hum in understanding and your eyes finally take in the living room. Or what used to be the living room. 

The wallpaper is burned to a crips as most spots, heavy black marks covering the walls in a pattern; as if the fire spread out in five, even streams of flame and burned everything in their path. The floor beneath the marks is black in streams too, all pointing towards the centre of the room, as if someone lighted a fire and spread it in five, even directions. Like a ritual would have it. 

“I guess this is where we should look...” Yoongi comments in a grave voice. His fingers skip the black mark on the walls. 

“What happened here...?” you mumble in terror, mostly to yourself. It’s pretty obvious what happened here, but why would someone kill an entire family just for a ritual? 

“Whoever did this, did not mess around...” Yoongi whispers, while you near the fireplace. On top of it rest some burning sage along with some geraniums and a few buds of alyssum; all burned to almost a crisp, outside of the five even streams. The flower petals are black, almost destroyed by the fire. Burning sage is used for protection from enchantment, geranium as an alert for approaching guests and alyssum is used to deflect spells and judging by their condition, you’d say the person behind this knew much about the Kim’s. 

Your eyes then travel to the wall above; decorated with numerous runes and what must be protection spells. But truth is you never paid attention on rune’s class, so you have no idea how to read them. 

“So, we look for anything that might be suspicious?” Yoongi makes an affirmative sound, and you begin looking. Hoping you will at least find something that can help you. 

. 

. 

It’s been two hours or so since you started searching but you have nothing so far. You looked into every corner, under all furniture, looking for cracks in the floor, opening every cabinet and little trinket but you’ve come up empty handed. 

You’re starting to lose hope. You can’t believe you did all this just to come up with nothing. You refused to be pessimistic all day, to avoid jinxing it but now it seems your doubts became a reality. 

You have nothing to move forward from. You only know a witch is somehow involved, someone who knew what they were doing which means it wasn’t anyone from this town. 

Which means you’re screwed. 

With a huff, you stand up. “Come on Yoongi, I don’t think we’ll find anything here...” you admit, shoulders hunched but Yoongi doesn’t budge. 

“I’m not done yet. Plus, we haven’t looked into any of the other rooms yet...” he replies, not really paying attention to you. You tiredly watch as his hands dive in what seems like the hundredth box here. 

You groan, your sore muscles complaining along, and you rub your straining neck. “I doubt we’ll find anything in the other rooms either. Let’s just admit this was hopeless and return to-”  

Your words get cut short when you hear a sound coming from outside. 

Yoongi doesn’t seem to notice it, too immersed in his search, but you’re certain you heard something. Is someone else here? 

“Yoongi...” you whisper lowly, taking a step towards him, your eyes glued to the front door. 

“Wait, I think I found something...!” he mumbles with barely contained excitement, his hand searching through the outer cracks of the box. 

But then you hear it again. 

The unmistakeable creak of the wooden floor on the front porch. Meaning someone is coming up the stairs. 

“Yoongi, someone is here...” you shake his shoulder to gain his attention, to guide his focus at the impending risk of being found out. 

“I can’t get it, just use an invisibility spell or something...” he argues, finger grabbing that... something and yanking it as hard as he can. 

Panic and shame are an awful mix, flooding you at the same time as the creaks sound closer. 

“Yoongi, please, we have to get out now...” your rushed voice reflects the rhythm of your pulse, and your breaths quicken in fear. Your eyes widen and you stare at the door as whoever seems to be outside takes their sweet time to turn down the doorknob. 

A huff comes from your partner. “This is a clue; we have to get it! Why can’t you just cast a disguise or invisibility spell?”  

He obviously doesn’t understand why you’d choose to simply run but once you hear the steps sounding just outside the door you snap. 

“Because I literally can’t!” 

Thankfully your voice was barely a hiss, but it’s enough for Yoongi to hear it and look at you with a surprised gaze. 

Great, is that shame creeping back in? 

“I- I never learned how...” you admit, your voice barely a whisper this time. You avoid Yoongi’s eyes; they are sure to be filled with pity and you can’t take that just yet. You can take a lot of things admittedly, but surprisingly not this. 

The sound of steps travels through the wood again and you remember you’re about to be discovered. “Now can we please get out so I can at least teleport us somewhere safe?!” you hiss, pointing with one hand towards the door. 

Yoongi stares at you for a second too long without replying. Instead, he grabs what seems to be a small stick, stuck into the cracks of the box and with one determined move, he finally gets it out. 

“Got it! Let’s go,” he exclaims triumphant before you drag him towards the back of the house with a tired groan. 

“I used to come here as a kid, there’s a back door at the kitchen and windows we can go out of. If there are monitoring spells in all of them, we can hide until the living room is clear...” you whisper quickly, remembering all the times you came here with your parents for social visits.  

You open the door, push Yoongi quickly inside and lock it behind you. 

“Check for beepers...” you put a chair against the locked door, just to be safe as Yoongi checks the back door first. 

“Clear,” he replies “Although it seems weird the door isn’t monitored, even if it’s just a back door...” he thinks out loud. 

“Well, if it was, we’d be stuck here so forgive me for not looking a gift horse in the mouth...” you roll your eyes at him as you drag him towards the door. “Now let’s get out of here...” you open the back door and motion for him to follow you when you both hear the unmistakeable sound of the front door opening. 

Both your gazes land at the kitchen door, then at each other. 

“Run?” you whisper. 

Yoongi swallows the lump in his throat, and he nods. “Run.” 

Then you’re both out in the backyard, running through the bushes and flowers as quietly as you can. Actually, the garden is really pretty and normally you’d stick around to gaze through the flora, but this is as far from a normal situation as it could be.  

You can’t afford to stop. If you stop now and someone sees you, it’s all over. Noone would care that you had an alibi for that night; they’ll send you straight to prison. 

You reach the fence between the Kim’s estate and the forest, and both of you use the momentum to quickly jump over it, only to land ungracefully at the forest floor. 

Yoongi lays there for a second to catch his breath, but there’s no time to lose. You grab his arm, closing your eyes and recounting the spell as fast as you can, when the telltale sign of power draining takes over you and you suddenly find yourselves back into the floor of your living room. 

“Fuck...” you curse breathlessly, your body slumping down against the floor. Your muscles scream in protest, your legs turned to jelly as your lung struggle to fill up. 

Your eyes find the floating lights at your ceiling, dancing around peacefully; such an obvious contrast to what you just did, and you can’t help but wonder what your father would think of this. 

You think he’d have a heart attack to be honest.  

But your mother? She’d probably be with you all along. 

Yoongi chuckles, out of breath. “Yeah... fuck...” he agrees before groaning and rubbing his eyes. “I haven’t had that much exercise in years...”  he mumbles and you can’t help the laughter that bubbles from your lips. 

You both lay there too tired to move, your eyes naturally following the spells carved on your celling. 

And that’s when you remember. 

“So, what did we find?” you ask curiously and Yoongi scoffs. 

“We? Oh no, you wanted to leave, you get no credit for this...” he teases, still trying to catch his breath and another laugh escapes you. 

“Fair enough. So, what did you find, oh great detective Min?” you tease back, and he chuckles (an impossibly clear sound you’re sure you won’t be able to get out of your head). 

His hand dives into the pocket of his jeans. Then it emerges, carrying that slim stick you saw him dig out and he passes it to you. You take it cautiously, observing it meticulously. It’s bent at the end in an obtuse angle, frayed at the middle with scratches on its middle part and strings of something soft sticking out of it. Oh wait, it’s not a stick. 

“It’s a feather...” you observe and Yoongi hums in agreement. 

“Yeah, a black one as you can see and those scratches in the middle part?” he points to them right where you saw them before, “At first look they seem inconspicuous, but I think it’s a rune...”. The more you look at it, the more sense Yoongi’s observation makes. Yes, it is a rune, the one resembling the letter “c”, but you have no idea what it means. 

Again, not good with runes. 

“And it seems even more plausible since the feather remained intact through all the debacle,” Yoongi mumbles in thought and you turn to him. 

“You think it was enchanted to withstand the fire?” 

“Maybe. Or maybe it was used to keep the fire from going out, or for something else altogether. I can’t really tell; we’ll have to find out what that rune means...” 

His statement has you looking at the feather again, deep in thought. Someone wanted the Kims gone so bad, they not only lighted their house on fire but did everything necessary so that the fire wouldn’t go out. 

You weren’t aware the Kims had such enemies. In truth, they were one of the most respected families in Xefoto. 

So, who did this, and why? 

“Okay, so where do we go from here?” you pass Yoongi back the feather. 

He takes it back with nimble fingers, softly grazing your own. “I remember seeing a spell recipe that used a black, bent feather with a rune scratched on the middle part in another witch’s book of spells. I don’t remember what the spell was for though, so we need the book to know the details. Do you have yours somewhere around?” he asks curiously, but you shake your head. 

“No. Us witches are supposed to get our books at the age of twelve, along with our mentor. But ever since the accident, the council put a ban in everything regarding casting magic. No mentors, no books, no anything. And you won’t be able to find anything at the local library either, believe me, I’ve tried...” you admit with a sad chuckle. 

Yoongi sits up and stares at you in shock. “Is this why you didn’t know how to cast an invisibility spell?” he asks in bewilderment, voice filled to the brim with disbelief. 

You simply nod. 

His eyes widen, a glim of irritation flashing through them and he drops back to the floor with an angry huff. “I can’t believe this fucking town...” he grits through his teeth, making you shift uncomfortably next to him. 

“It’s fine really. After I’m done with college, I’m gonna search for a mentor elsewhere, so no harm done!” you rush to say, words more bubbly and cheerful than you ever felt about your situation, but it feels vulnerable to let him in, in all those aspects of your life that you hate.  

And you don’t like feeling vulnerable. Even though, with him, it’s the only thing you seem to be doing. 

“No harm done my ass...” he argues with a clipped voice, ready to say some more, when he casts a glance at your side. He sees something that makes him stop though. Instead, he looks at you for a moment longer before he turns his focus forward and clears his throat. 

You two remain silent for a few seconds, neither of you knowing what to say. Although it doesn’t feel as strange as it felt a moment ago. Somehow it feels peaceful and quiet and everything you wanted since that fateful day your parents died, and your skin crawls with the whisper of all the things you lost, as if they say you don’t deserve this tranquillity. That this too will be taken away from you because you’ve done nothing in your life to deserve this. Even though life has put you through enough things to owe you this. 

But life doesn’t care about balance or justice. It only takes, unyielding and cruel and indifferent to your sorrows until you have nothing left or you give up. 

You don’t know at what stage you are yet. 

Yoongi somehow senses the dark path your mind has taken you. He knows that for some reason, whatever you’re thinking about now isn’t good for you. The urgency to bring your thoughts back to the present tugs at him so persistently that at first, he sits there in panic, not knowing what to do. 

But the longer he sees that distant, almost resigned look in your eyes, the more words keep trying to escape his throat, until he’s sure that if he tries to voice them, no one would be able to make any sense out of them. 

So instead, he clears his throat again. 

The sound startles you, like waking you up from a nightmare and only realising you’re in the comfort of your bed, and you have to remind yourself you’re safe. 

But as your eyes fall on Yoongi again, that small seed of warmth that appeared when Yoongi first found you in that classroom, spreads the tiniest amount. 

“So how do we find that book?” he asks. 

The question has you smiling. That you know how to get. 

“There’s this guy at school, he’s mostly everyone’s weed dealer, but I've heard that for the right price, he can get you anything; besides other drugs that is,” you explain, and Yoongi sits up once again, resting his weight on his hands. This time though, it’s not rage swimming in his eyes, but excitement. 

“Okay, so let’s talk to him!” comes his enthusiastic response but you wave him off. 

“It’s best if you let me do the talking...” you warn him, knowing if he was to talk to the guy, it wouldn’t end well for any of you. 

He regards you with suspicion. “Why? Who is this guy?” 

You roll your eyes at him with a smile. 

“His name is Dean,” and Yoongi looks even more confused. 

“And he’s a werewolf.” 

next part: {5}

[quillkiller]

okay have you ever thought about bellalily. or maybe belladora (bellatrix x pandora). i would also like to propose nardora maybe. i love wlw rarepairs. speaking of, pandora sleeps with prof sprout!

hello!!!!

ok so i have never thought about bellalily and i think i have a hard time seeing it ?? both in canon and in modern aus for some reason ?? i mean i guess in canon because bella is so much older (i hc her as being 8+ older than the marauders) and she’d already be a death eater. im not personally a fan of fully fledged deathers/muggle borns and especially not when bella would be so much older already and the clear power imbalance in their dynamic etc etc etc. i love my lily messy and self destructive and morally fucked up but im not comfortable with making her sleep with, even in secret, someone who has the dark mark and thinks her ’kind’ should die . to each their own and its all fictional and not that deep i guess but thats just me:/

in a modern au tho ?? or a no voldy au ?? maybe ?? i can’t really picture it ? i think they’re too similar in my mind ?? i don’t see lily as being bellas type, and i don’t see bella being lilys type ?? i have a very hard time picturing it but i would LOVE !!! to be convinced otherwise if you’d ever want to indulge me <3

BELLADORA HOWEVER!!!!!! YES!!!! i used to be insane about them and i think there are posts somewhere on my blog under the /belladora tag. to be they’re friends with benefits. they meet at regulus’ bday party and he invites his estranged cousin he hasnt seen for years because she finally left her family. shes full of repressed anger, doesn’t know how to act around people, nearly bites everyones heads off, scary and looks like she hasn’t slept in 2 years. in my mind she also looks older than she actually is. i picture her being 9 or 10 years older than regulus and his friends. anyway. panda takes one look at this socially inept murderuos woman and she’s immediately gone for her. she wants to be her friend. wants to study bella under a microscope. wants to keep her in a lab. she’s not scared off by her foul tongue in the least. pandora is younger, but still more experienced because shes a casual serial dater in my mind. bellas only experience is the man she was forced to be engaged to and they hadn’t even kissed. they’re both bad with social cues, neither of them knows where the line between friendship and ’something more’ lies, pandora is just being a good friend. showing bella the pleasures she hasn’t experienced. they grow codependant fast. regulus hates it. bella hangs off of pandora as if there’s a leash around her neck. pandora just wants to be around bella all the time. neither one of them knows what personal space means. they don’t consider it might be inappropriate sometimes how close they are. when pandora sits on bellas lap even tho there are 3 free seats available. neither of them thinks twice when pandora wants to try out a new spell or potion that will allow them to read each others minds. bella would be conjoined to pandora if she could. she hates evan simply for being pandoras twin. pandora asks bella to move in after theyve slept together twice

nardora i cant really see either ?? to me they’re from two entirely different planets and want completely different things. narcissa, to me, is a bit like petunia i think ?? she wants normal. she wants to be under the radar. she wants someone goal oriented and direct. someone wild, but not wild. someone who wont beat around the bush, someone who’s grounded. christ why am i lowkey starting to ship petunia/narcissa while writing this . omg…………… @sugarsnappeases

ANYWAY!! again!! i’d love to be convinced or nardora. im up for anything honestly :/

pandora/prof sprout 10/10 agreed i saw it happen with my own two eyes .

[sparrowandbee]

Chapter 7 | Chapter 9

The Sparrow: Chapter 8: Goodbye

Synopsis: Marian and Haymitch share their final goodbye before the Games.

Warnings: Mention of alcohol and mention of dying/death.

Author’s Note: Might want to get some tissues out for this one…

Word Count: 1048

Vanilla opted to ride to the arena with Alder, which gave Haymitch and I the chance to bend the rules slightly and have him be my escort into the arena.

The Hovercraft was silent, we were both too caught up in our internal monologues to make conversation. We silently ate breakfast- neither of us were able to stomach much, though, and he didn’t even insist.

Actually we hadn’t spoken since after the interview. I was just glad that he showed up that morning, and seemingly sober (but hungover, nonetheless).

The world was silent as I followed him off the Hovercraft and down a sterile grey hallway, my eyes fixed on his tangled dark hair.

I made sure my black bodysuit was zipped all the way up as my heavy, black-booted steps echoed. It was sleeveless but had plenty of pockets.

It was going to be warm, probably.

I could do warm, I reassured myself despite the knot in my throat.

Haymitch held the door open for me and I was greeted by the sight of a transparent tube at the centre of the small room. It all suddenly felt so real.

This was it. The end.

I turned around to see him standing there, also looking up at the contraption that I'm sure brought back memories he'd rather forget.

All the tears I held in for the last week seemed to spill out like a burst damn- I couldn’t help the violent sobs which escaped me.

I launched myself at him, burying my face in his neck. He held me suffocatingly tight, stroking my braided hair.

Haymitch, who somehow made me laugh in the most despicable place on earth.

Haymitch, who proved to me that goodness exists in this uncaring world.

Haymitch, who made me feel seen and heard for the first time in my life.

He, who armed me with the most dangerous weapon I’d ever held- hope.

I had fought against this vulnerability my entire life, but as I clung to him, I whispered through my tears: “I don’t want to die.”

And despite his hardened exterior, the gruff lines on his face and lingering smell of whiskey, despite the years of training himself not to feel anything or to get attached, he squeezed me harder.

“Hey,” he says, his voice weak from his own tears, “you are smarter than any one of them. You only have to do this once, okay?”

He pulled away, holding my shoulder in one arm and brushing away a small piece of hair that had come undone. His worn hand lingered on my cheek.

“Okay?” He asked again, our bloodshot eyes looking into each other.

I nodded and wiped my tears.

-

It broke my heart because I knew she couldn’t win.

I had deluded myself and I had done everything I swore I wouldn’t.

I had forgotten that this isn’t a game you win- that regardless of how much resolve or ambition, we always end up dead on the ground.

The headstrong woman I had come to know that past week melted away into a scared girl in my arms.

The girl who got a three in training.

The girl who had too much kindness in her heart to slit a throat.

It shattered me completely to see her like this.

No one deserved to be in that position, but Marian’s was the last name that should have been pulled.

-

I smiled now, my eyes still wet. I wanted to show Haymitch that I would try. That I would keep my promise.

He smiled back, sniffling.

“There she is,” he was still holding my cheek. “Now you go in there and run. Forget about supplies, you can steal those later. Just fly under the radar and lay low, just like you do back home. And avoid fighting.”

“Thirty Seconds” the automated voice overhead announced and the elevated pedestal pod opened up as the countdown continued.

“Wait!” I had almost forgotten. From one of the many zippered pockets of my suit I pulled out the handkerchief I had embroidered.

I never knew my hands could create something so beautiful.

The pond where he and Evander played just happened to be my favourite place in the entire district.

Blue flowers bloomed in huge bushes right by the water. The individual flowers were so tiny, but they grew in bunches of five or six all around the pond, thousands to a bush. Together they created a lush ocean of blue and green, shaded by the big trees which housed the sparrows overhead.

I went there often, to listen to the water idle around, pulled by the lazy breeze as the sparrows vocalised with the soft rustling of the bushes.

There was never anyone there but I could imagine Haymitch and Evander splashing around, disturbing the peace with their boyish laughter.

I stitched little blue flowers all around the edge of the white cloth. On one end they met to surround a gold cursive ‘H’. On the other, I wove countless shades of brown and white to create a delicate sparrow. Her wings curving upwards, as if in mid flight.

If I died I hoped to become a sparrow by the pond.

To sing a beautiful song and watch over the man I’d come to love when he wept surrounded by little blue flowers. I’d hoped I’d be able to comfort him somehow.

On the left of the sparrow I embroidered my initial in the same gold thread and on the other side, E.E. - Ephra and Evander. So he would remember all the people that loved him. That despite the distance, we would always be by his side.

I smiled and turned away from him as I stepped onto the pedestal.

I couldn’t cry anymore, now was the time to fight.

I straightened my back and began my ascent.

-

“Your M” read the tag, in her neat cursive. Tied onto a handkerchief by a pink silk ribbon I recognized.

I watched her leave and held back my tears. I had felt too much, I couldn’t cry anymore.

I indelicately shoved the gift into my pocket, unable to face it now.

Unable to face that bright soul, full of humanity and love who was just taken from me.

Instead I pulled out my flask and took a deep swig, inviting the sting down my throat. I didn’t stop until it was empty.

I couldn’t believe that it was all happening all over again.

—

Next Chapter

Masterlist

[mugloversonly]

Okay so… I saw this and I wanted to write a little drabble to get them back to a good place (because I’m a sucker for happy/ hopeful endings). But this happened so uh…enjoy

Eddie laid face down on his bed, tears spilling over his lash line. How could Steve do this? How could Wayne let him? He thinks back on that fateful night two weeks ago. 

Steve and Eddie had just returned from the movies. They were already arguing, a similar argument to one they’d had before. Eddie wanted to be open about their relationship, and Steve thought it’d be too dangerous. He was terrified of what his parents would do. 

“Stevie, what’s the worst that could happen?” Eddie asked. 

“They could disown me for one.” Steve replied, angry and exhausted. Why couldn’t Eddie understand? “Not all of us have someone like Wayne to run to if it doesn’t work out!” Wayne was sat in the corner, watching it all unfold. He sighed and wondered if he’d have to step in. 

“Maybe not everyone. But you do!” Eddie yelled, stopping his booted feet. “You have us, we love you. We want you here.” Eddie’s voice quieted. “I want you here.” He admitted quietly. Steve was terrified. And when he was scared, he lashed out. 

“You want me here? What about what I want?” He scoffed. He needed Eddie to back off, and he knew exactly where to hit him. “I don’t want people finding out I’m like you! If that happens, I’ll never find a girl in this town.” That stopped Eddie in his tracks.

“What do you mean?” He asked, afraid of the answer. Eddie always assumed his was temporary, a blip on the radar that was Steve Harrington. But when Steve told him he loved him, he trusted him. Told him he was terrified this was all just a placeholder for Steve. 

“You couldn’t have expected me to stay right? You had to know I’d move on to find a wife.” Steve spoke cruelly even though the words burned like acid on their way out.

“You said you love me.” Eddie whispered, his eyes welling up with angry tears. Steve scoffed. “You promised.” Steve hardened his resolve. He couldn’t be open like Eddie wanted, so he needed to cut him loose. 

“I lied. You really think I could want you? Please. I was bored, you were there. That’s all.” Steve spat. He was waiting for the anger to return to Eddie’s face. But it never came. Instead the tears rolled and he made no move to wipe them away. He wasn’t one to hide his pain from those he loves. 

“You said I was everything.” The shattered crack of his voice almost broke Steve’s resolve. 

“Son, maybe we should all take a minute.” Wayne stepped in. He could tell Steve was hiding something. He glanced at Eddie and what he saw broke his heart. It was the same look his mama had when she confessed to Wayne that Al beat her. It’s the look of heartbreak. Steve makes eye contact with Wayne and decides that he needs to leave. 

“Fuck off Wayne.” He turns back to Eddie. “You are nothing freak.” The self hatred he felt poured out into his words, making them sting like poison. All the fight left Eddie then. He laughed before walking out and slamming the tailer door behind him. 

Eddie didn’t move, couldn’t. He heard Steve’s tires skid down the road and he collapsed. Wayne stepped forward to catch him before gently laying them both on the floor. “I knew it Wayne.” He whispered wetly. “Why did I trust him?” He asked, mostly himself. “Why did I let myself love him?” Wayne held tight to his boy and asked himself the same question. 

He eventually falls into a fitful sleep, and when he awakes an hour later, it’s to Wayne shaking his shoulder. Wayne doesn’t say anything, doesn’t need to. Just opens his arms for Eddie to fall into. He cries, the loud hiccuping sobbing kind of cry. “How could he do this?” He asked. “How could he say those things, and then turn around and do the one thing I begged him to do?” Wayne didn’t answer. He just held him and rocked them back and forth. Once his cries quieted, he pulled back. 

“Son, I know he hurt you” Wayne paused. “Hurt us. He has no where else to go, so I won’t be turning him out.” Wayne said firmly. Eddie understood. His uncle was kind like that. “But, that don’t mean you have to act like you ain’t upset. You’re hurt and angry with him. And you have every right to be. You don’t gotta hear him out or nothing. I ain’t gonna force you to get along.” Eddie nodded thankfully. He was grateful his uncle wouldn’t make him pretend. “Just, do your best to keep it civil, alright?” Wayne requested. Civil. Eddie could do civil. He just had to make a few things clear. 

“I’m not giving up my bed. I don’t care that he’s hurt. I need this space.” He insisted. Wayne agreed. “I’ll do my best to keep the peace, but Wayne…” Eddie’s lip wobbled. He could feel himself about to cry again. “How am I supposed to move on when the man of my dreams and nightmares is sitting in the living room beat to shit? I’m so in love with him, and he told me I meant nothing to him.” His voice cracked as fresh tears spilled free. “I’m nothing Wayne.” He whispered. Wayne pulled back and put his hands on Eddie’s cheeks, forcing him to make eye contact. 

“You listen to me son. You ain’t nothing.” Eddie wrenched free shaking his head. 

“I am! It’s one thing if one person says it, but I have been told over and over by everyone! I’m nothing. Worthless, useless, an unloveable freak.” His voice cracks in that last word. “He promised, he’d always love me, Dad.” Eddie cried. “He promised.” Wayne closed his eyes, drawing his son back in. He held him until he cried himself to sleep, then he tucked him in and went to deal with the other boy. 

Steve was sat on the couch with his head down, but when Wayne walked in, he glanced up. His eyes were red rimmed and his cheeks were wet.  “How much of that did you hear?” Wayne asked. Steve sighed. 

“Enough to know he was crying. And that I fucked up.” He bit his lower lip. “Do you think I ruined it, forever?” Steve asked. Terrified that he succeeded in getting Eddie to hate him. Wayne took a seat next to him on the couch. He didn’t say anything for a long moment. 

“Possible.” He said. “My boy doesn’t give out trust easily. And I’ve never seen him give it back to someone who lost it.” Steve took a shuttering breath next to him. “But then,” Wayne continued. “I’ve never seen anyone try to earn it back.” He glanced at Steve out of the corner of his eye. “I ain’t saying you have a chance.” He implored. “But I ain’t not saying that either.” Steve met his gaze as best he could with his injuries. “Give him some time though.” Wayne said voice stern. “Let him come to you when he’s ready. You hurt him real bad Steve and frankly,” Wayne’s gaze hardened. “If his mama was still here, god rest her soul, she’d be begging me to shoot you.” His glare intensified. “But I’m more forgiving, at the moment. But know this, the last time I saw my boy this upset was when his daddy got arrested and his mama died. So, you hurt him like that again, and you’ll be meeting Elizabeth Munson far sooner than you ought to. You got it?” Steve nodded. 

“Yes sir, I understand. I’ll stay out of his way until he approaches me.” Wayne stood with a slap to his knees. 

“Good. Now get some rest.” He trudged to the kitchen to begin cleaning up. 

The next few days were awkward to say the least. Steve did his best to stay out of the way, and Eddie stayed holed up in his room most of the time. When he did come out, he wouldn’t even glance at Steve. The few times he got a look at his face, Steve could see how red and puffy his eyes were. It’s like he hasn’t stopped crying since he left the kitchen that first day. He was an angry crier Steve knew, so he had no way of knowing if his tears were from sadness or fury. He didn’t know which one he preferred. 

When a week had passed, Steve was at his wits end. He hated that he caused Eddie so much pain, even if that had been the goal. He knew Eddie loved him, but he figured that he would pick himself up and move forward after Steve left. But he was seeing now, how wrong he’d been. He not only broke his heart, he broke his faith in others. He didn’t just damage the trust between the two of them, but he damaged Eddie’s ability to trust at all. 

He watched as he got call after call from his friends in Hellfire and the band. He did his best not to listen in but the trailer was only so big. He had to sit and listen to him tell every single person that he was fine, and that he was just under the weather. Even Jeff, who’d been the only person other than Wayne, who’d known about them. He was sure, Eddie’d told Jeff about the break up. But listening to Eddie lie to Jeff, hurt Steve to his core. He trusted Jeff with everything, they never had any secrets, even the intimate things. He felt sick to his stomach as he heard Eddie tell Jeff he hadn’t heard from him. 

When Eddie hung up the phone for the last time that day, he accidentally met Steve’s eyes. They were heart broken and that pissed Eddie off. How dare he asked heartbroken as if he didn’t shred Eddie’s heart weeks ago. Steve stood and moved closer to Eddie while took a step back. 

“Eddie, I’m…” Steve began. Eddie didn’t wait for him to finish, just dashed back to his room and slammed the door. He locked it for good measure before curling up into a ball on his bed. He felt like a prisoner in his own house. 

Steve knocked on the door, and Eddie panicked. He grabbed his keys and wallet, pulled on a hoodie and climbed out his window. He ran around the trailer and got in his van, driving down the road towards the quarry. 

Steve knocked on Eddie’s door a few times. He couldn’t stand this any more. He knew he basically trapped Eddie in his room but he didn’t leave him much choice. He was getting ready to knock again when he heard the van’s sputtery engine start up. He ran out the front door of the trailer and saw the van speeding out of the neighborhood. Steve wanted to follow but didn’t. The reason being that since he was disowned, he didn’t have his car anymore. But more than that, Eddie needed the time to himself. Steve could be patient. 

When Wayne got home from work, in the dawning hours he was happy to see that Eddie’s van was gone. Proof that he wasn’t hiding in his room anymore. But when he opened the front door and saw Steve pacing. He knew something was wrong. After Steve explained what happened, Wayne sighed. “This is why I told you to let him come to you, dammit.” Wayne growled. He had a feeling he knew where Eddie went, but he wasn’t sure what to do. Let Eddie have his space and come back when he was ready? After all this wasn’t the first time he’d done something like this. He always came back. But with Steve here, how long would that be? There was nothing for it, then. Wayne walked back out to his truck, Steve hot on his heels. Wayne wanted to tell Steve to stay at the trailer but one look at his face had him changing his tune. It was clear that Steve was anxious. Nervous and scared. “Get in. Before I change my mind.” Wayne grunted. Steve ran over to the other side and got in without a word. Together they drove down to the quarry, where Wayne knew Eddie’d be. They saw his van parked in the trees and Wayne parked nearby. The two got out and walked towards the edge. 

There Eddie sat, feet dangling above the open water. He was throwing stones into it and puffing on a cigarette. “Leave me alone Wayne. Please” he requested. His heart hurt, he was still angry, but the worst part? He wanted Steve back. After everything, he looked at Steve and still loved him. He hates himself for it. Why do people stop loving him, but he can’t stop loving them?

Wayne says nothing as he sits on Eddie’s right side. He grabs the cigarette and puts it out. He stares at the water. Letting Eddie know he’s here, he’s not leaving. And as much as Eddie wants to yell at his uncle, he’s happy he’s here. He leans his head on his shoulder and Wayne pulls him into his side. 

Steve watched the tender moment with longing. He wanted to be the one to do that for Eddie. But how could he be when he caused this? He stepped forward and dropped himself onto the ledge on Eddie’s other side. He doesn’t seem surprised that Steve is there, just resigned. He turned to Wayne. “What happened to, I didn’t have to hear him out if I didn’t want to?” He asked. Wayne chuckled. 

“You don’t have to now if you don’t want to. Say the word, I’ll give the kid the truck keys and I’ll sit with you here until you’re ready to leave.” Wayne promised. Eddie knew he would is the thing. Eddie glanced at Steve. 

“Fine. Talk.” Wayne started to pull away intent on giving them some privacy. But Eddie gripped his shirt. “Whatever you have to say, you say in front of Wayne.” There was no room for argument. Wayne settled back down and locked eyes with Steve. It was a look that said ‘don’t hold back just because I’m here’. He didn’t plan to. 

“Eds, I am so sorry.” He began. “That shit I said? I didn’t mean it. You weren’t just a bit of fun. You aren’t nothing. You’re not a freak or trailer trash.” Eddie wanted to believe him. But he trusted him once. Could get do it again? “I wasn’t lying when I said you’re everything. I loved you. I do love you. Still.” Steve dropped his gaze. “I should have told you the truth. I wasn’t afraid my parents would cut me off. I was afraid they’d…do what they did.” He admitted. He heard Eddie shift and met his eyes. They were big and wet and beautiful. 

“What did they do?” He asked. He knew for the most part, and could guess the rest. “Scratch that. Why did you even tell them? You ripped my heart out and spit on it for good measure, so why after we broke up did you tell them?” He spat out. He tried to keep his temper in check. With Wayne gripping his shoulder it was a grounding presence. 

“I broke my own heart that night Eddie.” Eddie scoffed. “And I know I have no right to say that, but it’s true. I knew what I said would hit you where it hurts. Picking at scabs that still sting. I was disgusted with myself. As soon as I left I wanted to come right back and apologize. Get on my knees and beg your forgiveness.” He admitted. 

“Why didn’t you?” Wayne was the one who asked.

“I knew I wouldn’t deserve it.” He said holding Wayne’s gaze. “I still don’t.” He turned back to Eddie. “I know I don’t. I’m not asking for you to forgive me. I just need you to know that it wasn’t you who fucked anything up. It was me.” He took a deep breath. “I felt so awful that when my parents came home, I started picking fights with them. I knew, if my dad got pissed enough, he’d get physical and that’s what I deserved.” Eddie gasped and held his hand out. Steve grabbed on and held it with all he was worth. “But the minor fights didn’t feel like enough. So I told them. I didn’t say who, but I told them I’m in love with a boy. They took it, well you saw how they took it.” The two Munsons nodded. “I finally felt like I got what I deserved. I didn’t know where else to go, I came to you because I couldn’t be without you any more.” Tears were rolling down both their faces. “Even if you hated me, I wanted to see you, even if it was only one more time.” Eddie nodded in understanding. 

“Okay.” He said. 

“Okay, what?” He replied. 

“Okay, I heard you. I need a minute to process all that before I say anything.” Eddie said. Wayne was proud of him. He’s been trying to teach him to take the time to think things through, and it looks like it’s paying off. “I’m exhausted.” Eddie turned to Wayne. “Can we go home?” Wayne tossed his keys to Steve and jumped in the driver’s seat of the van. They met back at the house, and Eddie walked around the back to climb back into his room. He opened the door and turned to Steve. “I forgive you.” He said, a smile broke across Steve’s face. But before he could get too excited, Eddie continued. “But I don’t trust you.” He stepped into his bedroom and shut the door with a click. 

It was a start. Steve wasn’t going to give up until Eddie trusted him again. He didn’t expect to get back to the way things were before, but someday hopefully he’d be able to call Eddie his friend again. 

"What's he doing here?" Eddie growls as he walks into the trailer kitchen, tossing his leather jacket onto the nearest chair and yanking open the fridge with stiff jerky movements.

He glares at his uncle Wayne who glares right back, the twin expressions spit fire across the kitchen as Eddie slams the fridge door with a beer now in hand. He tries not to feel guilty about the sudden jerk of movement in the periphery of his vision, the flinch.

Steve Harrington sits at the other end of the kitchen table, he's picking at his nails and his face is tilted down towards the table as though the checkered tablecloth is the most captivating thing he's ever seen. Steve is sitting strangely, hunched over slightly at an angle but Eddie doesn't care.

Eddie learned a lot from his uncle Wayne, how to shave, how to tell if eggs were about to expire, and how to make a good cup of coffee.

He learned how to argue from his dad.

Vicous words and loud voices, slamming doors and heavy stomping feet.

It's certainly not his best quality, but it's effective.

"What is he doing here Wayne, he made it very clear that we," Eddie gestures at himself and his uncle with wild hands, "could fuck off for all he cared!"

Steve flinches again, it takes everything in Eddie not to turn and yell at him.

"Eddie, if you're going to be a damn nuisance then you can get out of my kitchen," Wayne says calmly but there is an undercurrent of anger in his words as he moves the coffee mug he was drinking from away from himself.

Steve turns slightly and makes to get up but Wayne holds out an arm without looking at him, his glare is still fixed on Eddie.

"Edward, I mean it, you're not helping so leave".

The last vestiges of Eddie's self control bubbles away as he finally boils over.

"How could you take his side! You're supposed to be my family, not his!" Eddie snarls, righteous fury radiates out from his chest and into his limbs, he wants to break something.

"He didn't want us, he left us remember," Eddie shouts as he points at Steve who curls further into himself and tries to get up again.

"Steven you stay right where you are," Wayne grinds out, he takes a deep breath, holds it for a second, and releases it through his nose.

"Eddie, you can either stay and help, or you can be angry and leave, your choice, you get 10 seconds to decide," Wayne says after a beat, he still has the same glare etched into his face but a hint of weariness seeps through.

Wayne turns away from Eddie and faces Steve once more, he grabs one of their clean tea towels from the table in front of him and gestures for Steve to raise his face.

That's when Eddie finally sees the open first aid kit on the table.

All at once the rage dissipates as Eddie stares at Steve in horror.

His normally beautiful face is covered in blood. Mottled yellow and purple bruising blooms over his cheekbone just underneath a swollen-shut eye. The white of Steve's other eye has turned scarlet and a deep gash has opened up across his nose.

Wayne tips their rubbing alcohol bottle into the cloth and gently begins to dab and clean away the blood from Steve's face.

Steve breathes in as the cloth makes contact with the gash on his nose, Wayne murmurs an apology but continues.

"This'll need stitches," Wayne sighs as he gets up to wash his hands at the sink, "I'll need to grab a few more things from the bathroom, think you two can behave yourselves in the meantime?"

Steve nods mutely while Eddie continues to stare, he looks away towards Wayne and manages a tight nod.

Wayne turns and walks out of the kitchen leaving them alone, something they haven't done for two long weeks.

"I'm sorry," Steve mumbles after a beat, he blinks sharply and sniffs wetly, running a shaking hand over his nose, "for what I said, I didn't mean it," the words stutter and stop as Steve clears his throat.

Eddie stands frozen to the spot, for the second time in his life, he's been rendered absolutely speechless.

The first time was when Steve had told him he loved him.

"I, uh, I did what you said Eds," Steve continues, his voice wobbles slightly and pitches up in that tell-tale way that Eddie knows means he's trying not to cry, "wanted to be brave for you and," he waves the same hand in front of his face with a sad laugh, "I'm uh, not..." he sniffles again.

The last sniffle seems to jumpstart Eddie again, he crosses the distance between them and takes over Wayne's vacant seat, Steve's one eye tracks his movement as he stops speaking and stills.

Eddie swallows, it feels like rocks going down, he hates that Steve is afraid of him, of his reaction.

He slowly reaches for Steve's hand that rests on the table, watching his face for the slightest change, he pauses just before their fingers touch, uncertain if it will be welcome.

Steve meets his gaze, his one good eye traces over Eddie's face for what feels like an eternity before he slowly turns his palm up and crooks his fingers.

Eddie breathes out a sigh of relief and closes the gap, smoothing his fingers lightly over Steve's palm and up his wrist, the movement pushes up the sleeve of Steve's shirt revealing purple bruises that dot his pale skin.

Fuck.

"Can't go home anymore," Steve whispers, he grazes his own fingers across Eddie's arm in small circles, "I know you’re mad, but I didn't know where else to go--"

"You're always welcome here kid," Wayne says as he strides back into the kitchen, his hands holding their suture kit, "that hasn't changed," Wayne grumbles pointedly at Eddie, who grimaces as another small flicker of anger rekindles in his chest.

Eddie looks away from Wayne to find Steve watching him, his eye boring into Eddie's with an unreadable expression on his bruised face.

The thing is, Eddie wants to let it all go.

He wants to take Steve into his arms, tell him everything is going to be okay and that he can of course stay with them.

But he can't.

The hurt is still too fresh, too raw.

He's so angry still, angry with Steve.

Angry at Wayne, angry with himself for letting it go too far.

Eddie slowly, gently, takes his hand back and stands up from Wayne's chair, gesturing for his uncle to take the seat back.

Steve's empty hand stays palm up as his gaze follows Eddie to the door of the kitchen.

Eddie turns into the hallway without a backwards glance.

And if his heart breaks all over again as he hears Steve begin to softly cry in the kitchen while Wayne tells him everything will be alright?

Well, no one needs to know.

[14buddy22]

A Lot Could Happen

What happens when Aaron Hotchner is forced to go into protective custody with Jack but without his daughter... Well, a lot.

WC:  4066

Aaron Hotchner x Daughter Reader

Part 2: Worth It

“Witness Protection? Dad, what? I can’t just leave my husband.”

You stood in the kitchen arguing with your father. You were a lot like him. Of course what he was telling you scared you, shocked you, and made you angry. Everything that you felt, you knew your dad was feeling.

He said, “You’re not coming, I did a good job keeping you out of the face of the public. But Jack, he’s in the file about Foyet, they know him. I can’t lose your brother. I lost Haley and I promised her I’d watch over your brother. Just like I promised your mom that I’d protect you before she took her last breath in that car accident.”

You had looked over to the last picture you ever had with your mom. It was a picture from Disney when you were 4. She died a week later. You looked back up at your father and knew he was upset. The tears in his eyes definitely weren’t helping.

“I don’t have a say in this. Peter doesn’t know you’re mine. I’ve kept you far enough off of the radar where you can stay.”

After your dad said the name Peter, everything clicked. You knew about George Foyet, the Reaper. You knew about Peter Lewis because you just remember your dad coming home from work - sweaty, bloody, a cut on his face. You were sitting on the couch with him while he cried. Yes, Aaron Hotchner cried. He cried where his family was. You and Jack were all he had left. His first wife - dead. Haley, well, she was dead, too. With him looking at you, he knows that you know who it already is. But he knew you were going to ask anyway.

“Peter? As in Mr. Scratch?”

“Peter Lewis showed up to Jack’s soccer game. We’re already going to witness protection, I just wanted to come and tell you before Uncle Dave told you. I know this isn’t going to be easy for you, honey.”

“Easy? Dad, you’re my best friend. I’m literally married, wanting to start a family and I still hang out with you every chance I get.”

He whispered, “I know. I’m sorry.” He took a deep breath as he wiped your tears.

“I know this isn’t what you expected. I’m sorry I couldn’t give you more. I love you. Before I continue, I need you to know that. After what happened with Foyet, I don’t want another thing taken from me. Jack and I HAVE to enter protective custody. I don’t know where they’re taking us. I don’t know how long we'll be in WITSEC, but I know I didn’t give you the goodbye you deserve. You deserve more, Y/N Hotchner.”

“Dad.”

He just looked at you and the big bad FBI agent finally broke down. He was crying and you two just hugged.

It felt like time froze, yet it wasn’t frozen long enough.

“I love you. So much. Thanks for being the best Dad in the whole entire world.”

He kissed your cheek and said, “Thank you for being the best daughter in the world. I’ll see you soon.”

We let go of each other and you said, “Please come back safely. Jack and I both lost our moms, we can’t lose our dad.”

“Goodbye Y/N, I love you.”

“I love you too.”

***

You pulled up at the one place that used to bring you so much happiness when you were younger. But you’re 24 years old now. It had been 4 years without your Dad and it was the scariest 4 years without your Dad. You missed them dearly and that’s when you had to take matters into your own hand. You were going to find your Dad and if that meant coming to the BAU to see the progress they’ve made on Peter Lewis or even joining the Bureau, you were going to do whatever it takes.

You walked into the familiar unit and looked up to your Dad’s office. His placard still on the door. But while you did miss your dad, you couldn’t get sidetracked. You walked into Dave’s office

“Hi Uncle Dave. Any word on when I’ll get my Dad and my brother back?”

“Not sure. Is everything okay?”

“I’m lonely, Uncle Dave. It’s been almost 3 years without Brad and almost 4 without Dad. He’s missing so much.”  

Dave said, “I’m sorry kiddo. I know.”

After a few more months passed and the team showed up at Aaron’s safe house. Aaron answered the door and saw his team there. He said, “Guys?” Rossi said, “We got Peter Lewis, he’s Dead Hotch.”

Aaron let out a breath of relief. He was finally getting out of here. He was going to see his daughter. He loved Jack, he and Jack had become closer over the past 4 years, but his daughter, he was afraid how far apart that relationship had grown apart. It’s the part that scared him, everyday as he was sitting in protective custody.

Jack said, “Dad, we need to see Y/N and Aunt Jessica.”

“I’m going to take you to Aunt Jessica’s, okay?”

His phone buzzed and said, “Actually, Aunt Jess is going to come pick you up, okay?”

Jack said, “Okay. But when are we going to see Y/N? She needs to know we’re okay and she needs to know we have a little brother.”

Aaron thought to himself, “Right, a little brother. How do I explain that in those 4 years, I decided to add to our family. She really will never forgive me.”

Aaron said, “We’ll see her soon, I promise.” Aaron kissed Jack’s head and Jess picked him up.

She hugged Aaron and she said, “I’m so happy you both are back. Who’s this little guy?”

Aaron said, “This is my son Anthony.”

Jess looked at him and said, “Who’s the lucky one?”

He said, “Her name is Beth, she’s 5 months pregnant, she’s laying down right now.”

Jess said, “Oh.”

“We got married about a year and a half ago.”

She said, “Well, congratulations.”

Jack said, “Anthony likes my comic books.”

Jess said, “Speaking of comic books. I have a whole bunch that were delivered to my house when you were gone.”

He said, “Dad! Did you hear that?”

Aaron said, “I sure did buddy. Why don’t you get in the car, I just need to talk to Aunt Jess really quick.”

He said, “Alright. I love you Dad. Love you Anthony.” He kissed Anthony’s head and hugged Aaron.

He really just needed to find out how his daughter was. Praying she had a job, still had her apartment, was still married, didn’t get involved with drugs and partying.

Aaron said, “How’s my daughter?”

Jess said, “I haven’t talked to her much, do you know anything?”

Aaron said, “All Dave told me when he came to get Jack and I from the safe house is that I should go alone first.”

“We didn’t stay in touch much. I mean, I’m not her biological aunt and of course she knows that, she only stayed in touch because of Jack.”

“Her and I will have a conversation.”

Jess said, “Aaron, no, these past couple of years have been hard on her. You have to remember that and anyway, she’s been extremely busy with school.”

“I missed her graduation.”

“She took a year off, She graduates this year.”

“I put her behind in school.”

He remembered having late night discussions with you. You were trying to fight to go stay at Brad’s house and then it was talks of getting married. He had constantly brought up the point of you getting behind in school. You had always told him you never would. Oh how everything would change in the 4 years he was gone. And he wasn’t going to find out until he showed up at your doorstep.

“Aaron, just please go and see her.”

“Thank you Jess. I’ll pick up Jack later tonight.”

She nodded and she said, “I’m glad you’re back.” He hugged her and she got in the car.

Aaron walked inside and he said, “Hey, I gotta go.”

Beth said, “Aaron, where are you going?”

“My daughter’s house. She deserves to know I’m back. She should see me.”

Beth said, “What about our son?”

“Beth, Anthony is asleep. Y/N’s my first born. The one to make me a dad. I need to see her. Her and I have never gone without seeing each other for more than two weeks. We talked every day. I need to see my child. She needs to know that I’m okay and I need to know how she’s going to take that.”

You were cleaning up the kitchen, listening to children’s voices fill up the room. It made your heart swell at the sound. To hear that kids were getting along. It’s something you loved as a student teacher, when none of your students were arguing.

Someone knocked on your door and you went to open it.

“Dad?”

“It’s me. They caught Peter Lewis. He’s dead.”

He hugged me and I was crying. It had been 4 years, the toughest of your life and you had to go through it alone, without your dad. And here he is.

“Dad, You’ve missed so much. Where’s Jack?”

“Jack was seeing Jessica. Are you going to invite me in?”

“Yeah. Of course.” You closed the door.

“Are you starting your babysitting business back up?”

A little girl came around the corner and said, “Mama! Look at my drawing.”

Aaron’s eyes widened and you looked at Grace. Aaron looked at how much she looked just like you. His father instincts kicked in right away and he had to guess she was maybe 3 years old.

You knelt down and said, “Baby, will you give mommy a minute?”

She ran away and Hotch said, “What - Y/N/N.”

You said, “Brad and I have a daughter. She’ll be 3 on the 20th.”

“I have a granddaughter?”

You heard someone say, “BRAD! Give me it!”

He looked at you and you said, “But that’s not all. You have two grandsons.”

He looked and said, “What?”

“You have three grandchildren. They’re the best thing that’s happened to me. They’re triplets.”

“Where’s Brad?”

“Brad died 3 years ago.”

He looked at you and said, “I’m sorry. I would have come home sooner had I known.”

“It’s okay. Really, it’s okay.” He hugged me again and you noticed his wedding ring.

He said, “Y/N. She’s beautiful. Your little girl is just like you.”

You smiled and said, “Do you want to meet them? Then we can talk.”

“We have a lot to catch up on. No one told me. I never knew.”

“I tried to get Dave to tell me where you were but nobody knew.”

“Honey, I’m so sorry.” You started walking around the house and he was looking at the pictures. He saw drawings and then a picture of Brad with a halo drawn into a family picture with you and your three kids. You stood next to him and he looked down at you with teary eyes.

“I’m so proud of you” with his voice just barely above a whisper. If there was one thing Aaron Hotchner wasn’t, it was never quiet. But there were only a few moments he was left speechless… and those were Aaron Hotchner defining moments. He had a weakspot for family, in which Foyet and Lewis knew that.

His first defining moment was meeting his first wife; his high school sweetheart. Then marrying her, then of course watching his first child, a little girl, enter the world and just holding her, being her dad. But then, losing the first love of his life to a terrible car accident, all because of a drunk driver.

His second defining moment was meeting Haley; met her at a coffee shop. Raising an 8 year old who had just lost her mother over 4 years ago was hard. But Haley took his breath away. He got married, again, and then had his first baby boy. His life was complete - he had a daughter, a son, and a wife. Until his wife took his son and walked out on him and his daughter. And then Foyet, quite literally took Haley’s breath away. Her death and the way she died took Aaron’s breath away. He was yet again a single father, now a single father to a 14 year old and a 4 year old. How could the world do this to him?

His third moment that left him speechless and quiet, was when his daughter’s boyfriend had asked for his little girl’s hand in marriage. Then he realized his daughter was really grown up. The whole wedding, him giving her away to Brad, the father/daughter dance plus Jack.

Then, Peter Lewis shows up to Jack’s soccer game. Forcing him and Jack into WITSEC. Him having to say goodbye to his daughter.

Now here he is, standing in his daughter’s hallway, looking back on everything he missed out on for the past 4 years. His son-in-law dying and his three beautiful grandchildren being born.

You hugged him and he said, “I’ve missed you.”  

“I missed you too, Dad. Every. Damn. Day.” You wiped your tears and continued, “Would you like to meet your grandchildren?” He nodded. “They’re in their playroom. It’s the one thing Brad and I wanted when we built this house. To have a playroom and a wrap-around porch so we can watch the sunrise and sunset.”

We walked in and the kids said, “Mommy!” They ran to you and hugged your legs. You knelt down.

“Hi guys. Do you remember how I told you about your Daddy?”

AJ said, “He’s with the stars watching us.”

“That’s right. And I told you how I don’t know if I’d ever see my Daddy again?” He nodded.

Brad said, “Papa Aaron fights the bad guys.” Grace said, “He’s a superhero.”

Aaron was tearing up and you said, “Yeah, well, there’s someone I want you to meet.”

They all looked up at your Dad and you started to say, “This is-” when all of a sudden your kids all ran to his legs and said, “Papa Aaron!”

Your dad knelt down and that’s when you and your Dad both lost it. Yep, the dam broke. It’s as if you. All the past 4 years rushing to your mind; scared and worried your kids would never meet your superhero. They may have lost their Dad but they deserve to know their Papa.

Aaron was thinking the exact thing. Time flew by so quickly. Just yesterday he felt like he was holding his daughter in the hospital and now here he was, meeting his three perfect grandchildren.

The kids all hugged him and he then smiled.

Grace held his face and he kissed them all. Grace said, “Mama. Papa has dimples like me.”

The kids all started smiling. Aaron realized that this was what he missed out on for the past 4 years and he regretted it. You already knew what he was thinking and you’d yell at then when you got the kids down for a nap.

Aaron said, “You 3 don’t even know how much you mean to me.”

The kids started yawning and you put them down for a nap. You shut their bedroom doors and grabbed the monitor. You grabbed the laundry basket and walked to the family room where your dad was sitting. You sat next to him and started folding laundry.

He said, “So, tell me.”

You cut him off and said, “Nu-uh, You tell me, you’re wearing a wedding ring.”

“I met this woman, her name is Beth. She’s one of the best things that’s happened to me after your mom and Haley. But I want to know about my grandchildren.”

“Well AJ. It stands for Aaron jack.” Your dad’s eyes immediately got glossy again. You put your hand on his hand and squeezed it.

“I didn’t know when would be the next time I saw you so I wanted to keep your memory alive with my son.”

“What, what happened with Brad?”

That day would be ingrained in your memory forever, just like your mother’s death was ingrained in your father's. Seeing the flashing lights and hearing a knock on the door. You knew something was wrong. You were 4 months pregnant, he didn’t even know you were expecting triplets. It was something you were going to tell him that night. Thinking back to the knock on the door, you don’t really know what happened after hearing the words, “Are you the wife of ADA Brad Montgomery?”

You took a deep breath and said, “You know, he was a lawyer, he’d gotten threats all the time, but he was on the courthouse steps and he had just won over this big case, a case to move him forward in his career. Well, he got a guilty verdict and the gang members showed up and shot him twice.”

You had started crying again and your father grabbed you and held you. He thought he wasn't going to know what to do. He had been gone 4 years, surely you’d be mad at him. But you weren’t pushing him away. Instead, you were the exact opposite. He couldn’t have been any more wrong.

“I’m so sorry. You shouldn’t have gone through that pain alone.”

“Uncle Dave told me. I. I never thought I could lose him. But, I did.”

You let go of your Dad and he wiped you tears.

“Tell me more about Beth. How’s Jack?”

“Beth can wait. Tell me more about my grandchildren.”

You grabbed a book of their baby pictures and showed him. You showed him videos and pictures on the phone and Aaron couldn’t help but go back to 22 years ago when you were just two years old, trying to talk to his friends at his high school graduation.

“Wow. They remind me so much of you.”

“I know mom died when I was young but I remember Mom always said we were twins.”

He pulled out a picture of the three kids and he whispered, “Can I-”

“Keep it, of course you can. So, Beth. I can’t believe you got married. And I wasn’t invited!”

You hit his shoulder and he put his grandkids in the wallet. He then showed you a picture.

“She's beautiful, Dad. When’s the baby due?”

“What?”

“Look, she’s showing, just barely but she’s showing in this picture.”

“Well, besides me getting married, I kinda had an oops moment.”

You knew what an oops moment was. You and your late husband had one. But you got three beautiful children out of one oops moment. And your father, from what you were hearing, he had at least two that you knew of. You don’t know if Jack counts as an oops moment because he had him later in life, but you never bothered to ask.

“You have another brother. His name’s Anthony.” He swiped the picture and it was a picture of Anthony and Dad.

“The little things he’d do, it would remind me of you.”

“How old’s Anthony?”

“He’s 8 months old.”

“And one on the way. Exciting.”

“I never thought I’d get married in WITSEC, never thought I’d have more children with another woman.”

You know your dad was starting to blame himself even though he had nothing to blame himself for. But even though you weren’t old enough when he blamed himself for falling in love with Haley, there was always the thought in your mind as you got older. And then when Haley died, he refused to look towards any women who you thought would be perfect for your dad. You, Jack, and your dad would be out to dinner and you would be trying to set your Dad up but he wouldn’t budge. You knew he felt guilty for marrying Beth, bringing another life into this world.

“I want you to come by the house tomorrow. Meet Beth, your brother, see Jack.”

“I think Uncle Dave is already planning a welcome back dinner. And on top of it, you get to go into the BAU again.”

When your father didn’t say anything, you knew what was going to come out of his mouth yet, and it wasn’t something you were ready for. Ever since you were born, putting away bad guys was always your Dad’s job. It had always been apart of your lives.

“About that. Beth wants me to retire.”

“Dad, you-you love the BAU. You always have. You can’t just retire.”

“I can’t lose Jack, I have Beth, Anthony, and the new baby to protect.”

You were a little hurt he didn’t mention you or his three grandchildren. Yes, you weren’t around him in the past 4 years but you shouldn’t be any less important to him. When you looked back up at him, what you didn’t notice was that he took a break to pause because he was going to cry again.

He whispered, “Most importantly I have you and three beautiful grandkids to protect.”

“They’re my world, Dad. If you are sure about retiring, then I guess I can’t stop you.”

“Just think, I’ll be here all the time, I can help with the triplets.”

While you loved the thought of having your Dad help raise your triplets, you knew what he was saying wouldn’t be true. He still had Jack to take care of. He was going to have a one year old and a newborn on the way. Not to mention, he still had a wife who hadn’t seen him work in the B.A.U. And that’s what brought you to your next thing that you had to tell him.

“No, you won’t.”

He hesitated for a moment and he was caught off guard.

“What did you say?”

You stood up and said, “You heard what I said. You’re going to have a 1 year old AND a newborn baby. Not to mention you’re STILL a dad to Jack. You’re not going to have time.”

“I’m going to make time for you and your kids.”

“Dad, you have your family and I have mine. Yes, I wish you didn’t have to go into protective custody because I was scared. I was scared and alone sitting at Brad’s funeral. Yeah, I had the team there but I just wanted my Dad. I was scared to deliver my kids.”

“Had someone told me, I would’ve come back.”

“You’re going to have 3 kids and a wife to look after and take care of. YOUNG kids.”

Your Dad stood up and took a deep breath, “Y/N, listen to me. You’re my child, my first born, my baby. You will ALWAYS be my baby, no matter what. You’re the one who made me a dad. I’m sorry you had to go through most of your pregnancy and the birth alone. I really am. But, you’re my daughter and I will always be your dad. I know it’s been 3 years. I know. But, I want you to know I’m here for you. I am going to help as much as I can.”

You leaned into your father and just said, “I’m just scared Dad. I wish Brad was here. Some of the things they do, the face they make, they have an Aaron Hotchner Glare and then they have the Brad smile.”

You looked at a picture of your kids by Brad’s grave and said, “I wish he could’ve met them.”

He wiped your tears that you didn’t even know had fallen.

“You can relax now, don’t have the weight of the world on your shoulders, you’re too young for that.”

“I’m 24, dad.”

“Still too young.”

Here you and your dad were. Standing in the middle of your living room, taking everything in. Him being alive, him meeting his 2 year old grandchildren for the first time, seeing you for the first time in 4 years. It was taking you back to the day 4 years ago where you were standing in your kitchen. Arguing with your dad, too afraid to say goodbye. Nobody knew what would happen, there was a lot of uncertainty, but you both sure as hell knew one thing… A lot could happen in 4 years.

[loving-all-for-loki]

Can you write one where the Rogers is assigning a new recruit to each avenger for training? Loki gets the new girl and he’s irritated thinking she’s just some normal human that hasn’t a clue how to fight properly because of her petite size. When it comes time for them to spar, she gives him hell. She fights with swords and is very skilled in the art. He says something to piss her off and she ends up blasting him away with powers she never told anyone about. Loki realizes what she is since he knows the magic she used. She’s part light elf but being half human she was abandoned and left to die just like Loki was. They end up bonding and work together on the team.

A/N: I hope you like it! I didn't focus a whole ton of them working together, but I feel like you get the point. It's a bit longer than my other one shots.

The Moon And Her Darkness

Summary: Y/N, the newest avenger, starts her first day of training. An unimpressed Loki’s doubts are proved to be wrong when she reveals herself to be stronger than he knew.

Word count: 2744

Warnings: angst, dick Loki

Forever Tags: @mm2305

-

Your blood pumps fast through your body as you stare at the raven haired god. Ever since you joined the team, he’s been giving you dirty looks and eye rolls. You tried to not pay attention to it since you know of his past (and have been warned by Tony), but as the newest Avenger trying to prove herself, you find yourself longing for his approval.

It has been a week since Nicky Fury showed up at your home, extracting you from it, and throwing you into the lion's den you called the Avengers. You never signed up for it, but given that you were on the government’s radar for a long time, you’re not surprised. A couple mishaps here and there made them take you on their own terms. They’ve decided that having super powers is not something to be normalized and that you couldn’t live like a normal civilian.

Although you want to be home, the Avengers have already shown to be a great family. Nat and Wanda have already taken you shopping while Steve gave you a tour of the tower. As far as the others, they have been out of sight. Bucky avoids everyone, Sam with him because they’re glued to the hip, and Tony is somewhere else working on new technology with Bruce. Clint? Thor? Who even knows. You’ve been thankful for the attention they have given you.

Except for Loki.

You remember the attack in New York and you won’t lie when saying that approaching the god is intimidating. He stands with great pride and power, it’s hard not to feel small, but when he stares at you the way he does, it’s harder. He doesn’t stop looking at you as if you were a rat he found in a sandwich. Disposable. Replaceable. Disgusting. You don’t expect much from the God being that he’s only staying here out of punishment for the attacks, but you had hoped for a little something more. Even a prank or two.

When Steve told you that you were going to start training, you expected hand to hand combat like the rest, not whatever involves Loki being in the gym at the same time as the two of you. He hasn’t said a word, but just stared at you as Steve goes over some basic disabling techniques and defense. Most of it is already burned in your brain from your childhood, being a warrior and all, but you still manage to learn some new things.

But learning as to why Loki is there, that still remains unclear. Everytime you throw a punch or try to block one of Steve’s, Loki scoffs at you and rolls his eyes. He looks completely relaxed on a bench in the room, yet he could not be looking at you with a more tense gaze. He looks worried, as if you’re going to get beaten to a pulp.

“Okay, what’s wrong?” You yell at him.

Panting, you block Steve’s last hit and turn to the younger Odinson.

“Sorry?”

“Oh, don’t sorry me. Cut the crap, Loki. What’s up?”

“I believe the sky is.”

You grab a knife off the wall and aim it in his direction, startling him slightly but not even shocking Steve.

“You stare at me with daggers in your eyes and judge my every move. You have yet to even talk to me since I joined the team. What do you have against me, you ass?”

“Y/N-”

“Shut it, Steve!” You yell, quickly aiming the dagger at him before returning to Loki, “You. Talk.”

“It’s just pathetic, that’s all.”

“Pathetic? You’re calling me pathetic?”

You start to charge at Loki, but Steve quickly wraps his arm around your waist, holding you back from gutting the god.

“Y/N, I wanted you to spar with him after me,” he cuts in.

“And why would I do that?”

“Because he's a skilled fighter who matches your level.”

“Oh, so I spar with the tricker who decides I’m too pathetic to fight. He’s going to teleport or some shit and stab me like he does with Thor.” Loki’s eyebrows raise at the mention of Thor getting stabbed. “Yes, I’ve heard the stories. I’m not that naive, Steve.”

“I won’t leave you alone with him. I’ll be here to watch and guide.”

“What do you know about fighting with me? I have magic beyond belief” Loki asks the both of you.

“I know more than you think,” I spit, turning back to Steve, “Can we do something else?”

“Well, you coud-”

“I am not sparing with Loki.”

“Okay, then how about weapons? Whatever one you want to start with?”

Loki scoffs again at the mention of you fighting any other way than hand to hand combat. He’s lucky you’re on the same team as him or else you would have decapitated him by now just because of annoyance. How can a man so attractive be so obnoxious?

You walk over to the wall of weapons were Steve and quietly discuss which ones you’ll practice with. He recommends knives so you can spar with Natasha when he’s gone, but the swords are more up your alley. They remind you of your childhood, the weapon of your people. Some days, you miss them, but you know they are fighting their own battle that is too dangerous for you.

Picking up the swords, Steve warns you he is not good which makes Loki laugh again. He has the right to this time because how do you practice with a man who doesn’t know what he’s doing. You can’t last ten minutes with Cap before you’re tired of his flailing. He’s really not good.

“Loki, you wouldn’t happen to know how to use swords would you?”

“I have some experience. Asgard knights and Valkyrie used them, we were forced to learn.”

He stands and takes Steve’s sword from him. Turning to you, he smirks, taking you in. Your frame looks so small compared to his, nothing but a mortal. He’s never admit it, but he finds you slightly adorable, in a helpless baby sort of way. You take proper stance and stare at Loki dead in the eye, determined to prove him wrong.

The two of you run at each other, swinging at any unblocked area you can, yet never hitting. He blocks your swing, pushing you back but not down. Looking up at him, you scream and run, thrusting your sword towards his neck and legs. He blocks you again, but not without stumbling. Before he’s able to get up, you land a blow right to his chest, knocking the air out of him. He hooks his foot around your leg and flips the two of you over so he hovers above you, sword to throat.

“I’ll admit it, you are good, but not great,” he laughs.

He stands up and walks off, setting the swords back on their holder on the wall. You gradually stand up, fury in your bones for the way he speaks to you.

“You… are irritable!” You yell.

Right before Loki gets to the door, he turns to face you. Steve rushes to your side.

“Y/N, stop. He’s not worth it.”

“Oh, he’s not worth it, alright,” you mutter to Steve, “He’s not worth the pride. The praise. Whatever the ‘glorious purpose’ he thinks he has. He’s just an insecure little boy who needs to prove himself over others, make them feel small so he feels superior. Just a bully.”

“I’d watch your tongue,” Loki warns.

“Or else what? You’ll challenge me to a words competition? See who has the best insults or can sound like the biggest douche because I think we all know who would win! Another check mark for your book of things you’re better at than ‘midgardians’ or ‘mortals’ or whatever degrading nickname you think of next.”

Loki’s chest heaves in anger. You’ve never seen someone so angry or heard anyone yelling at you with concern like Steve. Nothing he says registers in your head as Loki’s daring looks fill your mind. You’d almost be scared if you didn’t know he’s full of empty threats. Just a scared little god boy.

“You imbecile, think you can scare me?”

“Actually, I think anything can.”

“I can take words from someone who does not know me, but to be called a coward is not something I take lightly.”

“So what are you going to do about it? Huh?”

“Nothing, I don’t waste my time on people like you.”

“Oh, people like me? Because the great Frost Giant Asgardian is sooo superior.”

“Don’t you ever say that.”

Loki rushes to your side, grabbing you by the throat and lifting you up against the wall.

“Loki, stop it!” Steve yells.

“This is not about you, Rodgers. I suggest you leave before getting in the crossfire.”

“I can’t do that. The safety of this team-”

“Is your priority. I know you are honorable, but I highly suggest you leave.”

Steve hesitates at the sound of you gasping for air. You cling onto Loki’s hand, tightly wound around your throat. His veins pop out of his hand like a dehydrated man. Steve looks back at you, eyes now closed to focus on your breathing.

“Put her down first,” Steve orders.

“Fine, always have to be the hero.”

Loki sets you down and your body goes numb. Everything hurts, your throat swelling. You gasp for all the air you can, feeling it go down your throat and enter your lungs. It’s fresh, comforting, healing. Leaning your head back against the wall, you barely open your eyes to see Steve by your side.

“Are you okay?”

Not energized enough to speak yet, you nod your head and place your hand on his shoulder. Steve looks over at you with worry before turning back to Loki.

“Leave, now.”

“Gladly.”

Loki turns to walk away, but doesn’t. He stands there to listen to you and Steve. At this point, neither of you care. You’re too focused on not dying.

“Can you breathe?” Steve asks.

You nod your head.

“I can get you help. We have a hospital room.”

“No,” you choke, “I’m fine. I just need a moment.”

Steve nods, but doesn’t listen. He gets up and leaves the room, rushing down the hallways to get a nurse, leaving you alone with Loki.

“Why haven’t you left?”

“No reason.”

“Please, just go. I’m tired of fighting. You’ve done enough.”

Loki turns to look at you. You look weak, but actually weak this time. The purple tint to your skin is fading as your lungs self regenerate as you keep breathing. Gripping onto the wall behind you, you stand up. Your knees are weak, making you wobble as you do. You’re not lying. You’re tired of Loki. You’ve barely spoken to the man and he’s made two attempts on your life in ten minutes. Sure, you teased him, but doesn’t he deserve it for being an ass.

“Weak.” He mutters.

That was the last straw. You look up at him. He stares at you as if the devil himself has entered you and your eyes glow bright red, but you know what is wrong. Holding out your hand towards Loki. A glow erupts from behind you, bright yet dark. It’s dark blue like the night sky and Loki watches it in awe. In seconds, Loki’s body is flung through the training room doors, blasting him into the wall of the hallways. He feels his rib breaking, his head hitting the wall. He yells out in pain as you slowly approach him, the anger seeping through.

“Never call me weak.”

Loki flips his head up to look at you, shock running through his body. At the sound of his body collapsing, the other Avengers come running forward. They look upon the sight of you towering over the trickster god with a look they’ve never seen before. Ethereal. Godly. You look as if you’re a queen staring at her peasant handmaid. Anger. Controlling. Power.

“What the-” Bucky mutters.

“You,” Loki gasps.

He struggles to stand as the team tries to help but he refuses. You two locked eyes but nothing was said. “You’re an elf.”

Everyone looks back at you with confused faces, but you don’t say anything. Your body goes hot at the mention of the word ‘elf’. The fire inside you fades out as anxiety places it, waiting for Loki to continue.

“I knew if someone was here to figure it out it’d be you,” you whisper.

“Light elf yes?”

“Yes, moon elf to be exact.”

“How are you here? Aren’t the-”

“Yes, they’re away. I was left to die. Our town got ransacked, everyone fled. No one stopped for me.”

“Then how are you here?”

“The Air elves. They got word of what happened and came. Found me. Took me back, but-”

“You weren’t suited. They found out.”

“Yes.”

There’s a moment of silence between you and the god. His eyes shine with sadness, tears coming to the corners. He looks at you with great pity as the wall inside you breaks.

“Can someone explain what’s happening?” Steve asks.

“Can you tell?” You ask Loki.

He nods, “Yes. Y/N is a moon elf, a tribe of light elves. They’re as high up as Asgard in the nine realms, powerful warriors. They’ve been at the center of every creature out there. People have been after them for their weapons, gems, and wealth. A landmark for every thief and warrior in the universe.”

“My town was destroyed when I was a little girl. Nobody wanted me because I was a child. I was a burden to them.”

“She was left for dead to be found by the Air Elves. Another tribe. Not as powerful. But they didn’t want her and there’s only one reason why they wouldn’t want a moon elf. She’s a half-breed.”

“Moon elves are the only ones who tolerate them. Half human, half elf. Considering many of them come from moon elves, they’re not despised, but Air Elves.”

“They dropped you off on Midgard to be picked up by someone else. I assume you hid your powers?” “I had to. I acted out once when I was little and my parents freaked out. They sent me away. I lived in a orphanage before some group took me, trained me, helped me hone in my powers. They saved me.”

“Until you got to old and left.”

“Didn’t know where to go. I became a waitress at some back alley bar, lived above it in an apartment with my manager. Lived paycheck to paycheck.”

“Then?”

“Nicky Fury came to me. I was on SHIELD’s radar and they wanted me on the Avengers.”

The room goes silent. Throughout your talking you missed the way Loki got considerably closer to you. You practically stand right under his nose. Loki raises his hands and places them on your shoulders, getting your attention. You two look each other in the eye for a long moment.

“I am… so sorry.”

You feel the tears forming in your eyes as Loki pulls you into his chest, holding you by your waist. The team watches in awe as the closed off god embraces you. Slowly, everyone leaves you two in the hallway. An hour goes by as you cry in Loki’s eyes.

Eventually, Loki picks you up bridal style and brings you to your bedroom. He helps you get dressed for the night and settled in bed before you grab his hand, making him turn back to face you. His eyes are no longer riddled with anger or hatred, but kindness and pity. He looks at you like you’re a little lamb to be protected.

“Yes, darling?”

“Stay with me?”

He nods before undressing and getting in bed with you. He pulls you close, your head leaning on his chest, and places an arm around your waist.

Every night goes on like this. No matter what happened in the day, even if you two got into an argument, Loki always found his way back by your side in your bed. You would have never expect it from how he treated you at first, but after the last few months since you met him, you find yourself growing closer to the god.

Loki slips into your bed for what feels like the 1482nd time. Resting your head on his chest, Loki pulls you close to his body.

“Goodnight, darling.”

[majortuttle]

i don't know whether you're still taking beejhawk prompts but if so, i'd love to see something that takes place after the bus s4e6. they're all describing their first crushes and hawkeye never does and i think it would be fun for hawk to come out to bj with a little pronoun slip and if you don't do it, i will :) thank you for your service.

First off, I'll always take prompts and asks so we're golden! Second, I hope this scratches a small itch — I'm a little tired so I hope it tracks alright!

“The first time love conquered all,” BJ says, echoing the topic of their earlier conversation. “While Radar may have needed finding, you, sir, got skittish.”

“Skittish? What am I, a crab?”

BJ chuckles and leans back, resting his has against the window while keeping Hawkeye in sight, legs extended across the width of the bus to almost brush Hawkeye’s fatigue pants with his boot.

“C’mon, I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.”

“I feel like this is an elaborate ruse meant to give you another opportunity to gush about your beautiful wife.”

“I don’t need a ruse to sing Peg’s praises, you know that. C’mon. Spill. I want to know more about my favorite bunkmate.”

“Alright, first time love conquered all,” Hawkeye says, keeping his voice low for the benefit of their sleeping comrades. “Well, I was fifteen; young, gangly, and stupid. You know the type.”

“That I do.”

Hawkeye tongues a tender spot on the inside of his cheek as he rewrites the story in his mind — swapping names and locations on the fly because he can’t admit the truth, not here.

“She was a good friend of mine,” Hawkeye starts, before immediately having to clear his throat. “Best friend. We grew up together and I’d had feelings for some time, not that I knew how to go about expressing them, refer back to young and stupid.”

“Noted.”

“I thought I’d take her skating. Confess my love on the ice and if things went south, I’d skate to a thin patch and do myself in.”

"Naturally."

“We got out on the ice, and before I could get my bearings, I hear this cracking — you know, when a large enough sheet of ice starts to break, it almost sounds like a gunshot, it startles you so badly you forget to be scared — but when I figured out what was happening, I panicked, started rushing back to shore and s-she was right behind me, and then she was ahead of me, and my skate caught in this crack and I fell.”

Hawkeye stops himself, thinking back on the number of times he’s told this story in its entirety, not edited for the sake of concerned parents.

“Didn’t fall through the ice,” Hawkeye clarifies, meeting BJ’s worried face. “But the whole sheet buckled, and I was on my stomach just waiting for the water to take me when I looked up and . . .”

He closes his eyes, and he can still see Tommy, flushed and panting in that patchwork red coat of his, easing onto his belly like a seal, reaching out with one gloved hand, telling Hawkeye not to panic, that everything would be okay if Hawkeye could just slide a little further.

Just a little further, Hawk! You can do it!

“She saved me,” Hawkeye takes a deep breath, exhaling slowly in time with BJ’s own sigh of relief. “Smacked me upside the head when we got to shore for being so stupid and scaring her half to death, and then she kissed me. Wasn’t my first kiss, but it was the one that counted.”

“Sounds like a hell of a gal.” BJ praises, shoulders drooping like he's just escaped the gallows himself. “I'd love to meet her some day. She waiting for you back home?”

“Well, you can't, he actually died quite recently.”

The words practically fall out of Hawkeye’s mouth, unbidden and unwanted; and when Hawkeye realizes what he’s done, he doesn’t look to the gently surprised expression on BJ’s face, he turns to Potter and Burns resting behind them. Searching for any hint that the men might have heard him.

“. . . I’m sorry to hear that.”

Hawkeye whips his attention back to BJ so quickly he feels a vertebrae pop in his neck. BJ casts a look to their sleeping compatriots before he lifts up and shifts across the aisle onto the seat beside Hawkeye — or what little remains of it — before slowly, carefully, pulling Hawkeye’s hand into his own.

It takes far too long for Hawkeye to realize he’s being comforted.

“What was his name?” BJ asks.

“Tommy,” Hawkeye whispers, swallowing hard against the fear threatening to consume him, against the earnest sympathy plastered over BJ’s face. “Tommy Gillis. He died here. In Korea.”

BJ tightens his grip around Hawkeye’s hand, closes his eyes, and bows his head. Hawkeye can’t bring himself to do the same, consumed in the moment by this new Captain, Trapper’s replacement, fresh off the boat, commiserating over the loss of someone who’s mere memory is dangerous to Hawkeye.

“Are you praying?”

“Something like that.” BJ answers somberly. “The least I can do.”

“He died on my table,” Hawkeye admits, wincing at the tremor in his voice as he tries to shake some inhumanity out of Hunnicutt. “I couldn’t save him. I let him die.”

“I’m sure you did what you could.”

“You don’t know that. You weren’t there —”

Hawkeye’s lips are cracked and now they’re burning, a roundabout way to realize he’s crying.

“I wasn’t, but I know you.” BJ insists, not letting go even as Hawkeye tugs his hand away. “You’re a good man. A better surgeon. It couldn’t have been your fault. Tommy, would he have blamed you? Would he want you beating yourself up like this?”

Hawkeye turns his blurry gaze to their clasped hands and stifles a sob, only to immediately find himself in BJ’s arms; the larger man holding him tightly.

“When we get out of this,” BJ whispers, running his hand over Hawkeye’s back in soothing circles, “I’ll tell you a story of my own, okay? It’s a good one. I promise you’ll like it.”

“Yeah? Is it about Peg?” Hawkeye sniffs, wiping his face on BJ’s shoulder. “There’s only so much Peg my heart can handle —”

BJ chuckles dryly, giving Hawkeye a reassuring squeeze. “Peg's not in this one," he swears, resting his cheek against the crown of Hawkeye's head. "In fact, you could say there aren't any women at all."

[bokutoslittlebird]

Dark Nights

King!Oikawa x assassin!prisoner!reader

Author’s Note : This is the request for a prisoner reader and king Oikawa Au which is literally spiraled into a series. I am not sorry ; Everything will come to a close once the 5th installment is completed ; the request had “torture” and I didn’t realize until halfway through that torture probably wasn’t what you meant, but you’re gonna have to be more specific of what you want because I saw it and went “oh, noncon and maybe some actual hitting.” So, sorry if that’s not what you wanted.

Warnings: death of a minor character [no name OC], blood, dagger, noncon, degradation, kicking, Oikawa gets violent, Iwaizumi turns a blind eye, chains and dungeons, fingering, creampie, no aftercare, choking

Over the river and past the glen stands Fukurōdani, Kingdom in the Mountains that is under the rule of King Bokuto. The ruthless king that stands amongst his army as the bravest and strongest warrior, with his queen Kaori at his side. Deep in the castle, past the kitchen and deep in the dungeons, there sits three people. Amongst those three is a woman clad in all black, a dagger in her hand and a rag in the other, swiping away dark droplets that drip to the concrete floor. Before them, a man without a tongue.

“So, King Oikawa is looking for his bride-to-be, which is why he dared to trespass into the Dark Forest?” A rough voice speaks, his large hand tapping at his chin. His eyes pop open as a thought appears in his head, golden eyes turning to bore into yours. His smile is cunning and terrifying, but you just stare at him. “Maybe someone should see if he got what he was looking for,”

“If you’re suggesting I sneak into his castle, then say it. I don’t like puzzles and riddles, my lord,” your voice is dead, but loud enough to hear over the sharpening of your blade. “It’ll take a long time to get there and get back. Unlike your own kingdom, he has a barrier that is under watch by his loyal dogs.”

“You’re an assassin. Sneaking in is what you do,” he coos, standing from his chair. His presence is behind you, large hands settling onto your shoulders. “I ask of you to sneak into the Kingdom of Aoba Johsai and kill King Oikawa,”

“Excuse me? That’s a bit much,” your voice warbles. Killing a king is harder, much harder, than sneaking under the radar. You would know. “Killing a king isn’t easy, you know,”

“Oh, I know. I know very well, my dear,” his voice is barely audible, lips ghosting the shell of your ear. “But, I can offer something if you succeed,”

“Which is?”

“Freedom. You’ll be able to fly again, my little songbird,” his lips press to your cheek, whirling you around to face him. You have to move your head to look up at him, but he’s grinning with lidded eyes. “You’re more than welcome to decline. Personally, I’d prefer it, however, I know you’re the best assassin I have,”

“Best disposable assassin. Why not send Keiji?”

“Akaashi is supposed to protect me. He can’t do that if he’s in another kingdom,”

“Fine, but only if you keep your promise. I’ll hold you to it,” you finally say, huffing as you sheath the dagger. Never one to not rise to the challenge, you turn on your heel to leave the dungeons.

The trip from Fukurōdani to Aoba Johsai would be a day on foot, but you were able to get to the base of the mountains and enter the Kingdom of Nekoma, which allowed tourists from neighboring kingdoms. There, you were able to get your hands on some rations and new clothes, disguising yourself as a beggar woman who’s traveling the continent.

Pathways lead from each kingdom to their neighbor, but you choose to duck into the forest, under the shadows of the leaves and proud standing trees. Go in too deep and you’ll arrive at the center of the Dark Forest, where the ruin of the Karasuno Kingdom lies. It’s an unspoken forbidden place, only those wishing to never leave dare to go there. Crunching dead leaves and twigs under your feet, you manage to find a clearing to stay for the night. Aoba Johsai is farther than you expected, but the reward of freedom encourages you to keep your head up and move forward. It’s not safe to travel at night, the forest is home to all sorts of beasts.

It’s dark, the birds have stopped their chirping as you rest in the tree. Above the ground, away from monsters lurking in shadows, you close your eyes to get some shuteye. A ear-piercing scream rips sleep from your grasp, head whipping to look for the sound. Below you, about 2 yards from your sleeping position, is a family of travelers that seem to be struggling to scare away a bear. Although it is simply a bear, the family doesn’t seem to be prepared for such a disturbance. Against your logic, your morals win as you take out an arrow and put it into your crossbow. It’s small, but your aim is good enough to get the bear’s attention, roaring as it backs up. Lodged in the shoulder, the bear retreats as it quiets down the roars. The traveling family seems to be relieved at the turn of events, but they then become rigid as you drop from the tree.

“We cannot thank you enough, dear comrade,” the man, most likely the father, says. He goes to get on his knees, but he looks to you. “What— how shall we pay you back?”

This could work, you think. “Where does your family travel to?”

“Seijoh, the Kingdom on the Water. Tales have spread that opportunities are booming and the King is kind and just,” he speaks, but then his words stumble. “I do not-! Kuroo-sama is very gracious! I would give my life for his-!”

“You can stop. I don’t hail from Nekoma, if that’s what you think. I’m from neither kingdom, instead just traveling the continent in search of a new life. Perhaps Seijoh would be the way to go? I originally was going to Nekoma, actually,” you spin the tale you’ve made for yourself, which relieves the man. He straightens his back, his height no more than your own. “Would you let me travel with you? I’ll make sure your travel is safe,”

“Of course! We’d be honored to have the person who saved our lives join us,” he bows once more, then turns to the carriage with his family. “Let’s move on!”

“Yes, let’s,” you agree, joining the man on the bench. He cracks the reins and the horse begins moving once more, as you watch for anything else. Travels alone are scary, but with an entire family looking about and a kind stranger by your side, you won’t have to worry. Getting some sleep is your main focus, now, closing your eyes and letting the man know you’re going to rest.

The carriage stops moving, jolting you from your sleep. Before you lies other carriages and caravans, stretched into a line that leads to a large waterfall. The forest is bright and the birds are chirping as a man barks orders at the families and people attempting to enter. You make small conversation with the family, given a cloak to cover yourself from the chill of the morning dew. When it is time to be inspected, you have to give kudos to King Oikawa and his kingdom, noticing how bright and welcoming his entrance is.

“What is your business in Aoba Johsai?” The man almost growls out. A loyal dog of Oikawa’s, from your earlier words, stands before you. His hair is yellow in color, dark lines running from ear to ear. He catches your gaze, eyes narrowing even more, then looks back to the man.

“A traveling family with hopes to start a new life. I’ve heard great and kind things about Oikawa-sama, so I wish to visit the Kingdom on the Water got opportunity,” It’s a believable reason, and then men searching the items the family has give the okay. The guardian of the waterfall steps back, a shallow nod before he barks orders to move. The waterfall is large and can easily drown someone with how hard and fast the water crashes to the earth. A diamond shelf is embedded in the water, two more soldiers standing on opposite ends as they part the water. Barely enough room for the carriage and family, but once inside, the water crashes back behind you.

Aoba Johsai is breathtaking.

The morning sun glimmers across the water, waves gently rising only to be quelled back down. Birds sing along with the fish jumping out of the water, only to then crash back into calming waters. Pathways built of crystal minerals, harvested from the mines of Dateko, and hold countless travelers who have come on news of the opportunities. Soldiers are posted at every archway, checking to make sure nobody has snuck past the soldiers at the waterfall. Security is top notch at this kingdom, you note, as neither Nekoma nor Fukurōdani have such strong protections before entering the main kingdom. The pathway continues into the main kingdom, the town on the water, where fishermen and merchants attempt to sell a fortune for items only available at their stalls. Your awe must have shown, as the man beside you laughs joyfully.

“Never seen such a sight before, have you?” You shake your head. “It’s beautiful. I wish we could’ve been born here instead. Lots of blues, whites, and greens.”

“I noticed the vast greenery. The open area allows for lots of plants to grow, I suppose. Rivers allow for fish to come and reproduce, as well as allow for aquatic plants. A beautiful cycle of life, with a magical kingdom in the center,” you comment.

“Well, no magic. Magic hasn’t been used in over 100 years, you know. Not since Karasuno’s king fell. Um, I think—“

“King Ukai. I remember the story told to me before bed when I was a wee child. The story of the fallen king and his kingdom.”

“Yes! King Ukai, I hardly remember him,” before he continues, he stops. “Ah, we’ll need to get a room at the Rose Inn, and let the horses stay here at the stables. Would you mind settling our horses in? That way you can explore, if you want, before reaching the inn,”

“That sounds lovely! Thank you, kind sir,” you bow to him and grasp the reins of the horses. The inn is right next to the stables, the grunts working to put the luggage into a room for the night. You smile, turning the horses into the stables. A large man stands posted outside the stables, talking with an older man.

“No problems this week? Seems like you’ve had a stroke of luck, good sir,” the soldier says, laughing as the old man laughs with him.

“I hope it stays that way. Oh, ma’am? Need us to keep your horses?” The man notices you and your eye drifts to the soldier, straightening his back as a lazy smirk appears on his face. Not very threatening with the smile, but his large stature makes you wary.

“Yes, my family is staying at the Rose Inn next door. How long can you keep the horses for?”

“We charge by the night. How much gold do you have?” You hand him the bag of coins the man gave you. He counts them, tallying up the total. “They can stay for five nights.”

“Perfect! Thank you! I’ll tell my father, now!” You now graciously, skipping off and past the guard. His eyes trail after you, but you keep your pace to the inn. You’ll have to explore later. That guard sets you on edge.

The inn is graciously spacious. There’s enough room for each traveler and the cost of the rooms is cheaper than most inns you’ve come across in Nekoma and Fukurōdani. There’s sapphire and quartz lights, flames flickering behind them as the light illuminates and projects farther than most candles. It’s innovative technology, and allows for the rooms to be more lit than dirty and dim taverns. Dinner is also better than expected, the menu being more than a sheet of paper. You order at the bar, ordering a plate of their special dinner, then sit at the bar. The men beside you are drunk, but you hope they don’t cause a scene. Something tells you that the security would deal with a bar fight quite brutally.

By the time dusk has fallen, lights flickering on as lower soldiers and owners of shops alight their street lamps, you’ve explored the town. It’s full of trusting people, so you’ve learned quite a bit. King Oikawa has a personal guard and the captain of the guard almost always by his side, whether he makes an announcement or visits down below. One man, Hanamaki Takahiro, seems to willing to joke and hang out with the townspeople, but the captain is much more stern. Iwaizumi Hajime is the name you were told. He’s dangerous, you gathered, and he’s almost always by Oikawa’s side, protecting his king from harm. As night falls, the soldiers rotate so the ones on the streets are now in the castle, as nobody else enters the kingdom after dusk. Disposable soldiers to patrol, skilled protectors inside and around the king where the nightfall can hide trespassers entering the king’s chambers.

Shedding the clothes you were given so graciously, you’re stripping off the clothes of the soldier posted at the inn. The blood flowing from his chest has turned to a large puddle, so you have to trade your shoes for the soldier’s. Larger than your own feet, but you must bear with it. Leaving the alley, you keep your head low and you pretend to patrol. A glance left. A glance right.

You’re stuck.

Soldiers manage to be spread far enough apart, but not enough. They can see where you stand. You breathe heavily and straighten your back. Time to impersonate a soldier through the night and wait for switching times. A brief memory of the dead soldier in the alley flashes, but you push it back. The body is hidden in shadows, even the sunlight in the morn wouldn’t dare shine on the corpse.

Chickens chirp and a rooster crows, soon the other life awake and the sun rises. Shedding light on your position, you look to the gate that leads into the castle. The captain of the guard stands there, opening the gate as soldiers stand tall behind him. You blend in with the other guards, standing straight as you all prepare to trade positions. However, a woman with hair black as night stands before the group. She has an air about her, but she looks familiar. Iwaizumi lets her go, having one of his shoulders go with her. He’s tall and familiar, the soldier from the stables. They pass by, but the woman catches your eye. Her eyes hold a bit of mischief and mystery, but then she’s gone and her soldier follows with her.

“Alright, switch up! You know your positions!” Captain Iwaizumi shouts. Everyone shouts their agreement and dutifully switch places. Eyes face forward, unwilling to look at the captain that seems to have his gaze focused on you. Every soldier goes their separate ways and you don’t seem to bring attention to where you go, entering a room that you and another guard seem to be assigned to.

“Don’t fuck this up, Wakashu,” the soldier beside you grunts. You glance at him, wondering if he’s talking to you, but he thankfully looks to be hyping himself up. Pushing the doors open, you understand why.

It’s the throne room.

King Oikawa sits on his throne as he chats with two people beside him — Hanamaki Takahiro and one of the guardians from the waterfall. Your hair stands on edge, noticing the familiar yellow hair and dark lines, but you attempt to quell your nervousness. The king notices you both, nodding as you both go to positions on either side of the doors. Gatekeepers, essentially.

“It’s sad to see Kiyo-chan leave so soon. I’d hope she would’ve stayed another night to think about her decision,” the king huffs and sighs, brown locks swishing side to side as he shakes his head. “Guess it can’t be helped,”

“She probably thought you were too much of a brat,” Hanamaki snickers. Oikawa huffs again, turning to his guard. “I speak the truth! You expect her to like someone like you? With a shitty personality?”

“Excuse me! My personality is perfect and women should be lining up to be my queen! I thought only Iwa-chan would be mean to me,” he pouts, cheeks puffed out. It’s almost a cute scene. Almost.

Which is promptly ruined.

The doors fling open, you and the other soldier startled by the sudden opening. Iwaizumi and another soldier are huffing as they stop before the throne. Oikawa’s eyes go from friendly to seriousness, his posture changing as he looks down on the captain and an underling. “Speak.”

“A soldier was found dead in the alley,” you and the other soldier immediately go on edge, but for different reasons. “This one found the body,”

Oikawa turns his attention to the soldier, who immediately goes rigid and explains the scene. He also mentions the boots found at the crime scene, which he has in his hand. Coated with dried blood, they’re obviously yours. The guard from the waterfall recognizes them and you panic.

“I’ve seen them before! Someone came into the kingdom with those shoes yesterday morning,” he growls out, then he looks to you, who doesn’t move a muscle. Moving would make a scene, so you of course stay still, but he stares. “You. What’s with the cut on your shirt?”

Shit.

In the dark of night, you didn’t notice the slash in the shirt. The darkened coloring prevented the blood from showing, but the slash showed that something happened. It’s not a cut like dodging a weapon, but more of a stab. Fight or flight response kicks in, so you choose the latter. You got your information, you didn’t kill Oikawa, but it’s better than getting caught. You swing the door open and shut it, bolting down the corridors as you shed the armor. Lighten the load, faster you run. It’s not long until the soldier from before stops you, tall and imposing. You’d remember those stupid eyebrows from anywhere.

“What’s a pretty thing like you doing in a place like this?” He grins, but his grip is strong. You have a feeling he knew you’d be running soon. Footsteps approach behind you, then you’re pulled from the soldier’s grip and forced onto your knees. Chains are placed on your wrists and Iwaizumi grunts.

“Wonder who you’re working for,” he says. Oikawa is behind him, looking at you with the same look he gave to his soldier and Iwaizumi.

“Take her to the dungeons. I’ll see who she works for later.”

The tug of the restraints gets you off your knees, following Iwaizumi and his guard dog, the yellow haired one. Both of them prevent you from running and getting free of the restraints.

In the dungeons, you notice the materials. Similar to the pathway into the town, the dungeon bars are made of a shimmering mineral and you’re suddenly behind the bars. The restraints from before are removed, but your wrists are then placed into more chains along the ground. “Try and get out and see how well that works,” the yellow one grunts. Iwaizumi snaps his fingers and the soldier follows, leaving the dungeon.

“She’ll see soon enough, Kyotani,” the captain says, locking you in. “I’m sure the fight hasn’t completely left her,”

Then they leave. You’re all alone and you’ve failed your mission, but they’re right. You still have some fight left.

Hours pass by as you finally feel the fight leave you. There’s only one guard in the dungeons, but he’s nowhere near you. A thin man with ash brown hair stands posted at the base of the stairs, farthest from your cell. At first, you thought they lacked brains with security in the dungeons, seeing as you’re the only criminal behind bars, but the chains proved otherwise. Each movement you made, every breath you took, every grunt you voiced, the chains knew. They pulled tighter as if they had minds of their own, but they would loosen to their proper place if you were still for a certain amount of time.

Footsteps on marble stairs has you and the guard on alert. Looking towards the stairs, you see the king himself coming towards you. He smirks once he’s outside your cell. Iwaizumi stands next to him, not Hanamaki, and unlocks the door. “Are you comfortable?”

“No.”

“Well, could we help change that?”

“No.”

“Not much of a talker, are you?” Oikawa grins, crooked with a hint of anger. “I’ll get to the point. Who are you, who sent you, and what was your goal? I’m sure killing one of my disposable guards wasn’t the goal?” You don’t speak, so that angers him even more. It’s quick, the stinging in your jaw and the blood in your mouth the only indications his foot collided with your face. “Once more. Who are you?”

“My name is none of your business and neither is my home. My goal was to send that stupid head off your shoulders. Happy?” Your eyes stay narrowed, but he seems delighted at your answer.

“Treason, trespassing, and murder. I should kill you for this, but I wonder where you’re from,” he then has an unhinged desire in his eyes, grin splitting into something sinister. “I’ll keep you alive until you spill,”

“I’d rather eat your shoe again. What king wears white thigh-high boots, anyways? Your guards don’t respect you, they tolerate you. A worthless king with no pride, that’s all you are. I won’t bow to someone or kneel under their pressure when they have a weak resolve and no power. Admit it, you don’t run the kingdom, your soldiers do.”

A swift kick is administered, Oikawa’s breath heaving as he pants. His face is red with anger, frown evident on his face, but you’re grinning. Blood may be dripping from your mouth, but you know you’re right. He inhales sharply, then turns to Iwaizumi. “Understood,” he nods in response, leaving the keys on the wall as he goes to leave. Iwaizumi also takes the guard posted with him. You don’t understand why, but you don’t have much time to think about that.

“I may seem like a worthless king with little to no pride, but that’s all I have. My worthless pride. My guards and soldiers respect me because I am the power here,” he growls out, hand tugging on your hair that sends you collapsing against the ground. The chains pull in your arms, keeping you down as he straddles you. “You may not bow to me, but I’ll find out who you do bow to. I’ll rip every bit of fight out of you, beginning today,”

“Get off, you pervert!” Your screams echo against marble, reaching nobody’s ears. Oikawa goes to strip away the stolen clothes, eyes narrowing as he feels the dried blood against your chest. Ripping off the shirt, he exposes your breasts.

“Maybe I should take you as my royal lover, seeing as your body is supple and warm, perfect for someone to come to after a long day of work,” he grins, wicked and perverse as he looks at you. “What do you say, sweetheart?”

“Fuck off!” You scream, legs kicking and body squirming. He sighs and shrugs.

“No use, apparently. Then, let’s see how the rest of you feels,” he licks his lips as he shuffled down your pants. He’ll have to get you some other clothes, ones with easier access than the ones of his soldiers. The pants are off and he mocking coos at you, fingers sliding around the waistband of your panties to have them snap against your skin. “Pretty. All white and innocent, aren’t you? That’s what the panties say, but I bet you’d look better in black, since you’re probably not innocent.” He doesn’t get a response, so he continues talking. “I’ll give you some blue ones later, they’ll suit your skin tone and match the bars of your holding cell. Aren’t I generous?”

He’s pulling the fabric down, your legs spread as he does. He expects your goods to be dry, absolutely unprepared, but to his surprise, glimmering strings connect your pussy to your removed panties, falling and breaking as he continues to bare yourself to him. A laugh escapes him, fingers pressing into your folds. “You’re getting off on being manhandled? Seems like you’re the pervert, sweetie,” he coos, licking a hot stripe of saliva against your cheek. It’s disgusting and revolting, but you can’t say anything against it. You’ve been in a similar position before, your body seems to not be able to tell the difference between men.

Oikawa’s fingers delve into your cunt, scissoring as he feels around. Rubbing against your walls, he’s pleased when your back arches and a moan escapes your lips, only for a hand to come and cover your mouth. It’s soon removed, the chains pulling your arm back down. Oikawa continues his violation of your most sensitive area, thumb rubbing against your clit as his fingers move and rub inside you. The building knot in your stomach tightens and tightens, muscles tensing as you feel your orgasm coming on. You can feel it, it’s almost there, a moan escaping— then it’s gone. Oikawa’s hand has been removed, tongue flicking over the wet digits as he moans himself.

“Definitely not a virgin by the way you’re acting. A proper whore, you are,” he doesn’t expect an answer, standing on his knees as he goes to unbuckle his belt. Eyes widen as you realize he’s actually going all the way, but he just smirks down at you. Removing his cock from his pants, you stare at it. It’s almost beautiful, you think, staring at the slender cock and how it seems to just compliment his personality and how he holds himself. A hand wraps around the shaft of it, pumping as his darkened gaze lingers on your spread legs. Well, what’s between them. “Hope you’re ready,”

Although you most certainly are not, he doesn’t care. Pushing his tip into your cunt, he finds it hard to push too far. You’re not relaxed in his hold, tensed at his entrance into your velvety walls. His hand comes to your throat, pushing his thumb on your windpipe. “Any words?”

“Fuck off,” you mutter, eyes rolling as he plunges inside you. Pushing past your barriers and spreading you open wide, he’s not the biggest or longest you’ve ever had, but he’s by no means small. It takes effort to adjust to his length, but he doesn’t allow it. Once he’s in, he’s pulling out only to snap his hips back to yours. Your throat is free of his hold, his hand moving to hook your leg over his arm as his other hand is placed beside you. It’s a horrible thing, finding yourself enjoying his thrusts and how each roll of his hips seem to add to your pleasure. His own moans, much louder than yours, seem to prove he’s finding his own pleasure inside you.

Oikawa’s soon picking up his pace, his lips next to your ear as you mewl from pleasure. “Acting like a proper whore. You’d make a fine lover, chained to my side permanently,” he murmurs, lips pressing to your hot skin. He doesn’t get an answer, but he has a feeling your answer is no. Yet, he finds himself getting lost in his own pleasure that he’s soon slamming his hips into you even faster. When he feels his orgasm coming, he leans back and applies pressure to your clit. Your squeal of pleasure has your walls creaming around him and sucking him in. He’s not far behind, rutting his hips against you as he spills his cum inside, your walls milking him of every drop.

When the high passes, he’s removing his limp cock from your hole as his cum oozes out. It drips and plops onto the floor beneath you, but he finds it mesmerizing. Maybe, just maybe, he’ll have to come back.

The shutting and locking of the doors tells you he’s gone, leaving the dungeons and you all alone. With his seed still gushing from your cunt, you have a feeling he’ll be visiting you tomorrow, too.

He wants to break you. You refuse to bend. Each night, you’ll find yourself looking forward to his company.

[iliveiloveiwrite]

House Rivalries

Request: hi! i have a request if you're interested in writing for cedric!! i was thinking about a cedric x reader where they're in a relationship & prefects at the same time (preferably slytherin reader). i think it's fun to imagine how young hufflepuffs and slytherins would feel about the relationship and cedric w/ a slytherin would be a nice dynamic :) cheers if you choose to write it!

A/N: I loved this request! Thank you so much for requesting it! I hope I have done it justice! There’s a flash back in this, I’ve written it italics and it’s bordered by asterisks. As always, I hope you enjoy!

Pairing: Cedric Diggory x Reader

Warnings: swearing, fluff

Word count: 1.8k

You lay across the brown leather couch in the Hufflepuff common room; resting your head on Cedric’s lap, smiling as he runs a hand through your hair. You shift in his lap, pushing your head further into his hand. Cedric smiles down at you, happily obliging, now scratching your scalp.

A Second Year Hufflepuff crinkles their nose at you. She has been watching the scene for a while now; looking between the mustard yellow of the common room and the emerald green of your robes and prefect badge.

“What?” You ask, a smile on your face, “Do I smell bad?”

“No… you’re a Slytherin.” She whispers; her eyes wide as if worried she’ll be caught speaking to the enemy.

You chuckle, sitting up from Cedric’s lap.

“I am. House rivalries are strong especially when it comes to Quidditch, but it’s important to have friends in other houses – you never know when you may need them. Plus…” You continue, pausing for dramatic effect, leaning close to the young student, “Your future partner might be in a different house.”

“I don’t have time to think of love,” The young girl says, turning her nose up at the very idea of it.

You chuckle, “You’re only in Second Year; that’ll change by Fourth Year, I can assure you.”

“Is that how you felt with Cedric?” She asks, her eyes flickering between the two of you.

You bite your lip, glancing at the bronze-haired teenager sat next to you. He’s pretending to act uninterested in the conversation, instead, focusing on the book now in his lap. But you know better; having known him long enough to know that all of his attention is now on you and whatever words are to come out of your mouth.

“It took a while for me and Cedric to get to where we are.”

The Second Year Hufflepuff furrows her eyebrows, “Why?”

You sigh, nudging Cedric with your elbow, bringing him into the conversation. “We’d always been friends with feelings for each other; we just didn’t have the nerve to tell the other.”

“Why didn’t you tell each other?”

You raise an eyebrow at the inquisitive youngster who blushes from the look on your face; feeling thoroughly admonished despite no words having been uttered.

“I’m sorry,” She stutters, “I hope you don’t mind all the questions.”

Cedric slings an arm around your shoulders; dropping a kiss to the side of your head before replying. “We don’t mind at all: what do you want to know?”

The young Hufflepuff straightens from the attention of her prefect. “How long did it take for you to tell each other how you felt?”

Cedric looks down at you with a soft look on his face, “I think we dodged the subject for a year or so.”

“A year?” The girl cries, “That long?”

He chuckles at the girl’s reaction. Nodding, he replies, “I was too scared to say anything on my end in case it ruined the friendship.”

You nod along with his words, “It was the same with me. We’ve been friends since Second Year, I’d fallen for him by Fourth Year but it wasn't until Fifth Year when something happened.”

“But you both felt the same?” She asks, eyebrows furrowing as she tries to understand how it could someone so long to confess their feelings to the one they love.

You fiddle with your fingers for a moment. Until Cedric takes your hand in his, tangling your fingers together.

“Are you sitting comfortably?” Cedric asks the younger student. At her nod, he continues, “Then we’ll begin.”

********************

House rivalries at Hogwarts had always been strong, ever since the founding of the school over a thousand years ago. Salazar Slytherin being an island unto his own compared to the other three founders who had banded together in unity. Yet, despite the unity, rivalries grew strong over time; separations becoming more defined by the characteristics that enabled students to join their houses.

The Sorting Hat sat on your head for three minutes before deciding upon housing you in Slytherin. It had deliberated between Slytherin and Ravenclaw before settling on Slytherin, deciding that your determination outweighed your need for academic success. You had a plan and you were sticking to it no matter what.

The Sorting Hat barely needed to touch the flyaway hairs on Cedric Diggory’s head before calling out Hufflepuff. He was the epitome of the house; fiercely loyal and kind.

The friendship started in Second Year; he ran into you as he left Quidditch practice, knocking you to the ground. You huffed as you hit the ground, the wind being knocked right out of you.

“Are you okay?” Cedric practically shouts, holding a hand out to help you up.

You take in a couple of breaths, blinking away the tears, “I’m okay,” you gasp, grabbing his outstretched hand.

“I’m so sorry,” Cedric apologises, pulling you up.

You take your hand from his, brushing the dirt from your uniform. “It’s okay, no harm, no foul.”

Cedric smiles at you, “That’s good. I’m Cedric by the way.”

“I’m (Y/N).”

“It’s nice to meet you, (Y/N).”

You laugh, “It’s nice to meet you too, though I need to get going, and I think you need to get changed.”

Cedric laughs, looking down at his Quidditch uniform, “I do. I’m sorry again,” he says before turning away from you.

“It’s no problem,” you whisper, watching him walk away.

After that initial encounter, you started seeing Cedric everywhere you looked. It was as if your mind had switched to a radar where it was only aware of where he was. You’d spot him in classrooms; in the Great Hall; on the corridor. He’d be everywhere, and every time he spotted you, he would smile so widely, it knocked you breathless for a minute – just like he did when he knocked you over.

The friendship started when he sat next to you in the library. You had noticed how often he frequented it, but he had never sat next to you until one morning in March. You didn’t notice he had sat next to you, too caught up in your Potions essay for Snape, until he cleared his throat. You jumped at the sudden sound in the silent room, but relaxed when you saw the Hufflepuff, smiling at you from across the table.

“I like you, (Y/N).”

“You what?”

“I like you; I think we could be great friends.” He states.

And that was that. Cedric Diggory was good at reading people; he knew who was good and who was bad, and he could tell from the get-go that you were an innately good person at your very core. So he wanted to be friends with you; he wasn’t bothered about houses, he couldn’t care less. He just wanted to be friends with someone he could like, and that was you.

The friendship continued through your formative years, Cedric picking you out of a crowd – meeting you outside classrooms. He’d even join you at meal times; either sitting with you at the Slytherin table or dragging you over to the Hufflepuff table. Your friendship was questioned by a lot of people; curious as to why Cedric would make friends with a Slytherin, but they didn’t need to understand the friendship. It wasn’t for them to understand.

He made you happy. You made him happy.

And why should that be the subject of gossip for the student body at Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry?

It was inevitable that you’d fall in love with him; three years of friendship and you’d fallen in love with him. Everything about you screamed for him. He was like the sun, and you were a simple planet in his orbit. You gravitated towards him and your heart fell for him over a simple smile shared in the library. That was all it took; a secret smile – one you knew he reserved only for you and you were a goner.

After that, you couldn’t ignore your feelings for the Hufflepuff. Your heart raced in his presence; your palms got sweaty when his touch would linger on your shoulder or your waist. He affected you all the time; he had eve started to feature in your dreams where he would press you against a wall and kiss you senseless. Those dreams had you waking with your hand touching your mouth, as if you could still feel the pressure of his lips; as if they were swollen from his kisses. But you didn't dare say anything for the fear of ruining the friendship you treasured more than anything in the world; for now, you were happy to keep your feelings hidden in the shadows. 

Fifth Year began with the stress of OWLs and the appointment of Prefects. Both Cedric and you being appointed with the great honour. Dumbledore smiled at you as he handed the badge for you to pin your robes.

Leaving the Headmaster’s office, Cedric takes you into his arms, hugging you. “Look at you, Slytherin Prefect!”

You grin, “Who’d have thought it?”

“I did, I had every confidence in you,” he says softly.

You nudge him with your elbow, “You are a sweetheart… and a Hufflepuff Prefect!”

He grins down at you; the smile so big it crinkles his eyes in the corners. It sends your heart into what you’re sure are palpitations; it knocks you breathless, as Cedric so often does.

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

Over the course of your friendship, the library had become the place where you could find Cedric, no matter the day. He would always be found in the same place; three stacks from the back, sat at the table to the right.

It’s where you find him as the countdown to OWLs gets smaller and smaller.

You sit down next to him, “How are we today, Ced?”

“OWLs are kicking my arse.”

You gasp, “Cedric Diggory, language!”

He chuckles, “I apologise. OWLs are kicking my butt.”

“You’ll do amazing, Ced. You’ve been revising for months.”

Cedric bites his lip, worry crossing over his features.

You sigh; worry was going to be the thing that killed Cedric. 

“How about this,” you propose, “you get the grades for your OWLs and I’ll take you to Hogsmeade for a Butterbeer?”

You shock yourself with the words; the confidence to ask him on a date surging from you and out of your mouth in a collection of sounds that sounded like so much like a proposition. You clap your hand to your mouth; stopping yourself from babbling anything else.

Cedric raises an eyebrow, “Are you asking me on a date, (Y/N)?”

You laugh, the shock wearing off into something else, “You know, I think I am.”

Cedric joins your laughter, “Alright. I’ll get the grades and I’ll go out with you to Hogsmeade.”

You hold your pinkie finger out to him; he wraps his around yours, “Pinkie promise.”

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

On results day, Cedric gets the grades.

He celebrates by pulling you in for a kiss.

****************

“So you’ve been going out since then?” The Second Year Hufflepuff asks.

You nod; your hand wrapped tightly in Cedric’s. “Almost eighteen months now.”

“So Slytherin’s aren’t all bad?”

You shake your head, chuckling, “No, Slytherin’s aren’t all bad.”

“And you love Cedric?”

You nod, “Very much.”

The young girl nods satisfied with your answer. Until she asks, “Do you think you’ll get married?”

You choke on your saliva; eyes wide. You turn to Cedric, letting him take this question. He laughs at the expression on your face, “Who knows? Maybe one day.”

You grin at his words; warmth flooding your body matching the happiness coursing through your veins. Cedric returns the smile with just as much feeling; pecking your lips before turning his attention back to the young girl who is practically bouncing in her seat.

“What do you think of house rivalries now?” You ask, curious to see whether you’ve changed her mind.

The girl blushes, ducking her head slightly, “I don’t think they’re so bad now.”

*********

General (HP) taglist: @chaotic-fae-queen​ @obsessedwithrandomthings​ @harrypotter289​ @dreamer821​ @kalimagik​ @heloisedaphnebrightmore​ @nebulablakemurphy​ @the-hufflefluffwriter​ @figlia--della--luna​ @bforbroadway​ @idont-knowrn​ @summer-writes​ @big-galaxy-chaos​ @black-lake-confessions​ @annasofiaearlobe​ @imboredandneedalife​ @levylovegood​ @mytreec​

[dreamingofaizawa]

Short Stack

Okay, so I recently started a series called Saving Her Sanity, and I had only gotten one part posted. But the more I reread it, the more I really hated the way I’d written it. So I’m postponing that and starting a different series. It’s gonna be a real rollercoaster ride of emotions, so buckle up.

Pro Hero! KiriBaku x ProHero! Fem! Reader

**18+ Fic**

Warnings: Angst, fluff, habitual self-harm, dissociation, swearing from obvious sources, alcohol. Coming up in later parts: smexy times, biting kink, double penetration, unprotected sex, more angst, traumatic past (but not super detailed cuz I can’t handle that shit my heart hurts already)

Word Count: 6.9k

Author’s Note: Alright folks, the reader is a fucking savage and stronger than the fucking hulk cause why the fuck not? Tbh body type isn’t discussed, the only thing is that she’s short af and the angry pomeranian and redhead boulder are freaking giants. Also, everyone’s in their mid-late twenties here. 

Part 2 - Part 3

Enjoy the read!

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You dove out of the way of chunks of concrete, barely making it behind the corner of the alleyway. You took off sprinting, hopefully drawing the villain away from civilian activity. Thankfully he chased after you, onto an abandoned street, out in the open where you had the upper hand. Twirling around, you materialized a scythe and swung it straight at the enormous arm coming at you, nearly chopping off the villain’s fist completely. 

He stopped in his tracks and howled in pain, giving you the opening you needed. You charged him and dropped to the ground, taking his legs out as you slid under him. A chain materialized in place of the scythe and you wrapped it around his ankles and his undamaged hand, hog tying him in place. You’d only been fighting the villain for about five minutes, and backup wasn’t going to be there for at least another two, so you put a quirk cancelling cuff on him and began to wrap his bleeding wrist to keep him from bleeding out. 

As you waited for backup, you sat down and leaned against the villain, who’d passed out from blood loss, and tended to your own wounds from the encounter. Backup arrived, but it wasn’t what you expected. Instead of police, stomping toward you was none other than the number two hero Ground Zero. His vermillion eyes glanced between you and the villain that was quite literally twice your size, and the expression on his face looked ever so slightly confused at the scene he was witnessing. 

He stopped at your feet, glaring down at you for a few seconds, looked back at the villain, then back at you, and when he opened his mouth to speak the most absurd thing you’d ever heard came from his lips.

“How the hell did you do that?”

You looked up at him and raised an eyebrow, slightly irritated at the implication behind the question. Without a word, you stood up and dusted the dirt off your butt. You walked a few yards away, pulled out your phone and dialed the police, making sure they came with a vehicle that could fit the huge villain. When you turned back around to face Ground Zero, you didn’t expect him to be so close to you. He leaned down so you were face to face, narrowing his eyes at you and letting out what sounded like a growl. “I don’t like being ignored, dumbass.”

You rolled your eyes and glared right back at him. “Well I don’t like to be undermined, Ground Zero. I may be small but I can handle myself in a fight.” And it was true. You were very small, at a whopping 5 feet tall (152 cm). His eye twitched and jaw clenched, and you could almost see the steam coming from his ears. Before he could retort, you saw something being launched from behind him. You swung your leg under him and pinned him to the ground just in time to dodge a manhole cover as it whizzed above your heads.

Without hesitation you launched toward the second villain that appeared and quickly had him immobilized and cuffed on the ground next to the first. You turned back to the number two hero, who was still on the ground watching you with wide eyes. You walked over and held your hand out to him, offering to help him up. To your surprise he actually grabbed your hand and let you pull him to stand. He didn’t let go of your hand, instead looking at it, bewildered. 

“Can I have my hand back?” you looked at him blankly. He blinked a few times before releasing his grip. Soon the police arrived to take the villains, and once they left, you began to walk back to the agency since your patrol had ended a little while ago. Ground Zero ran after you and grabbed you by the wrist, turning you around to face him.

“What’s your name?” You raised an eyebrow at the man. “My hero name is Inventory. Now If you don’t mind, I’ve got paperwork to fill out.” He let go of your arm and walked alongside you. You knew why he was walking with you, seeing as you worked as a hero at his agency. As you walked into the building he turned to you with a quizzical look. Without even glancing in his direction you gave a small sigh. “Why am I not surprised that you don’t even know I work under you?”

He seemed slightly shocked. He made it a point to know who was working for him. After all, he couldn’t have anybody screwing up his agency’s reputation. Somehow, though, you’d managed to slip under his radar. Though considering your stature, hero rank, and the fact that you hadn’t made a single mistake since your debut, he figured he’d just brushed you off.

After you filled out all your paperwork, you changed out of your hero costume and into workout clothes and hit the agency’s gym. Like you always did, you went straight to the separate room reserved for sparring, expecting to have to go back out and find a partner. Today, though, you didn’t. As you entered the room, there was a certain angry blonde and a very muscular red-haired man sitting against the wall. 

“Well if it isn’t short stack” Ground Zero called out to you. Well that’s one way to get you mad. You tilted your head sharply to one side, then the other, your neck popping loudly as you took a deep breath to calm your anger. “Hello, Ground Zero. I didn’t expect you to be in here. I’ll just leave you to it then.” The irritation seeped into your voice as you turned around to leave the room.

Of course, the jackass had to go and say something else. “What? You too scared to spar against me? Am I too big for you to handle?” God damn it. You both knew you had taken down much larger opponents than him, and you knew it wasn’t very smart to fight your boss, but at this point you were pissed. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath through your nose.

He stood up and began stalking towards you, his heavy footsteps ringing in your ears. You dropped your duffel and whirled around, walking to him and meeting him in the middle of the room. At least sparring was only hand-to-hand combat, because you knew he’d easily overpower you if he could use his quirk. But you trained almost exclusively in hand-to-hand, because your quirk wasn’t combat related.

As you dropped into your fighting stance, he narrowed his eyes at you, clearly confused at the odd stance you were in. In all your years of training, you had developed your very own fighting style. He quickly shrugged off his confusion and put his arms up in front of his face, ready for whatever you were about to throw at him. The two of you stood there, waiting for the other to make the first move. As predicted, his patience ran out and you easily ducked and dodged the first few quick jabs he threw.

He kept throwing punches, each one a little more intense, and you could see he was getting irritated from how you were dodging every single one. Soon enough he was lunging at you with each punch he threw, his anger getting the best of him. Five minutes of him punching and you dodging had him fuming. You hadn’t even thrown a single punch. Still, it was a game of cat and mouse with you dodging everything he threw.

The whole time he’d been aiming at your face and shoulders, keeping his strikes high. But suddenly he launched at you and his right fist aimed straight for your stomach. Got him. You planted your right foot and spun counter-clockwise, grabbed his wrist with your left hand, grabbed his shoulder with your right, and used his own momentum to fling him over your head. He landed on his back with a thud, all the air pushed out of his lungs from the impact. 

You knew he’d have to take a few seconds to get up from that, and that meant you won the match in a single move. You stood over his head, smirking down at him. He glared up at you with eyes wide as saucers, wheezing from the throw, and the redhead cackled from his spot against the wall. You kneeled down and hunched over, your noses inches apart, and said, “Still think you’re too big for me to handle?”

Staring down at him, you stood again and walked over to the redhead. “Hi, I’m (y/l/n) (y/n), hero name Inventory.” You introduced yourself and held your hand out for him to shake. He took it and introduced himself as Kirishima Eijirou, a.k.a. Red Riot. You walked back over to Ground Zero and once again held your hand out to help him up. This time, he slapped your hand away and got up himself. “The name’s Bakugou Katsuki,” he said, scowling at you.

Kirishima got up and came over, “Come on Bakugou, don’t be a jerk just cause you lost. Sorry about that (y/l/n), he’s just prideful.” You chuckled lightly, waving it off, “It’s fine. I’ve heard ALL about Ground Zero’s friendly personality and peppy attitude. Anyway, It’s been fun, but I should get going.” Kirishima stopped you before you could walk away. “Hey, (y/l/n), we were gonna go out for drinks after this, you wanna join us?” You looked over to Bakugou, who didn’t give any input, choosing instead to glare at the corner. “Sure I’ll meet you outside in ten.”

You picked up your duffel and went back to the locker room to change into your civilian clothes. The bar was only a couple blocks away, so you all left your stuff in your cars and walked over. Bakugou didn’t say anything the whole way there, still wallowing in his humiliating defeat. You, being the smartass you are, decided to poke the bear.

“Stop sulking Bakugou, I haven’t lost a sparring match since high school. Besides, if we were to use our quirks you’d most likely win the match. You don’t gotta be all depressed about it.” His head snapped toward you and his hands popped and crackled at his sides. It was probably meant to scare you, but you only put your hands up in mock surrender. 

When you got to the bar you all ordered your drinks and sat down at a booth. Kirishima looked at you and started asking questions. “So, (y/l/n), if you’re so sure you’d lose to Bakugou’s quirk, what’s yours?” You answered him like you answered everyone else who’d asked you the same question. “Basically, it’s like an inventory in a video game, hence the hero name. I can “store” things in a pocket of space and materialize them whenever I need them,” then you held out your hand and materialized your car keys and cell phone.

His eyes went wide and he started gushing about how cool and convenient that is. Meanwhile, Bakugou just rolled his eyes and mumbled “showoff” under his breath. Kirishima elbowed him and told him to behave, making you giggle at the dynamic of the two. Despite being at a bar, the only one that drank any alcohol was Kirishima. What really shocked you was that he was a terrible lightweight, and getting him to walk back to the agency was proving extremely difficult, because he was leaning nearly all his weight on you and Bakugou didn’t bother to help.

In fact, Bakugou was busy snickering at the sight of you trying to keep Kirishima from stumbling out onto the road and taking you with him. You’d be lying if you said Kirishima wasn’t heavy, but years of weight training and hero work pays off cause you could easily squat over 200 lbs even if you were tiny. So about a block from the agency, you’d had enough of trying to keep Kirishima from falling over and you just stopped walking.

Kirishima was too out of it to notice. But Bakugou turned and started teasing you for not being able to handle the weight. You just rolled your eyes at him. Before Bakugou could move and take him off your hands, you took a deep breath, and hauled Kirishima onto your shoulders in a fireman carry. Bakugou’s jaw dropped, and he froze in place, just staring at the scene in front of him. That both annoyed you and made you extremely proud, cause you just impressed the number two hero. You were sure the scene was at least a little funny, a giant hanging off your tiny frame, but you ignored it.

Once you had Kirishima secured on your shoulders, you started the trek to the agency. Again, Bakugou was completely silent, but you could tell it wasn’t because he was sulking. Once you were back at the agency, Bakugo led you to his car and got Kirishima settled in the back seat while you stretched out your arms, popping your shoulders and neck. You were about to say bye and head back to your car when Bakugou stopped you. 

“Thanks for carrying him. It was impressive. Unexpected,” he said, not making eye contact, “And the match earlier…You did good. I haven’t been beat that bad in a while.” It almost looked like he was blushing, but it was so subtle you couldn’t tell. You smiled softly at the compliments. “Thanks, Bakugou. I had fun. I’ll be going now.” You turned to walk to your car, but he stopped you again. “Oi, short stack!” You froze at the name, and turned around with a sickly sweet smile on your face, “Yes, Bakugou?” “What’s your number?” It was your turn to be shocked. But you got over it and recited your number to him as he punched it into his phone.

When you got home it was just after midnight, so you got ready for bed and lay down to sleep. The next few days passed relatively quickly, occasionally running into Kirishima or Bakugou. There wasn’t any villain activity in the area, and your gym time was productive. You got a couple of people to spar with you when you needed it, and spent any extra time weight training.

The next day you were off, just like every day you had off, you went straight to the agency and hit the gym. You spent a solid hour at the punching bag and went to go spar again. This time there were five others in the room, which was extremely rare. Normally the room was empty. Two pairs were already going at it, so you asked the fifth if she wanted to spar. 

You’d already worked up a sweat at the punching bag, but you needed the spar, so instead of finishing quickly you made sure to take a couple punches and throw a few before ending the match. You kept the same partner for a few matches, winning each one, and soon the others were watching as you won two more rounds.

The partner you’d been sparring with tapped out to get water, and someone else quickly took her place. You immediately jumped into another match. And then another. And another. Soon they tapped out as well, and by then there were a few more people filing into the room to watch. It confused you, because you’d never seen more than ten people in the padded room, but you ignored it and began another match with yet another partner.

After another few rounds, your new partner tapped out, and you decided it was time to get some water. But it wasn’t until you stepped back out into the center of the room that you realised nobody else was starting a match. Nobody else was sparring with anybody, all their eyes locked on you. As you looked around the room, you noticed it was getting crowded with people, all your previous opponents had already left, and a new opponent stepped out to challenge you.

Now this was strange. Even with your opponent getting into his fighting stance, you looked around the room, confused as to why there were so many people. You dodged a jab, snapping your attention back to your opponent. Well that was a dirty move. At his next swing you ducked under his arm, lunged to his side and swept his legs out from underneath him, ending the match before he could even blink. Playing dirty gets you knocked the fuck out as far as sparring goes for you.

The crowd that had gathered cheered at the quick takedown, and yet another opponent stepped out. You lost track of time, sparring dozens of different opponents, never losing a single match. If you began to tire all you did was end the match quickly to regain energy. After you went to refill your water for what must have been the 20th time, you checked the clock. It was already noon. You’d been sparring for five hours. 

When you went back into the room, another opponent waited in the middle. You apologized and said you had to leave, and the crowd dispersed within minutes. You showered and changed, and as you left the locker room you got a text from a number you didn’t recognize.

?:

Oi short stack, what are you doing right now?

Correction, you knew EXACTLY who this was.

You:

Just got out of the gym. Why?

Bakugou:

Where?

You: 

At the agency

Why?

You didn’t get a reply, but you didn’t need one, cause Bakugou was waiting for you outside the building, sitting in his car, with Kirishima in the passenger seat. “You haven’t had lunch yet right?” Bakugou asked. You shook your head no. Kirishima spoke this time, “Great! Let’s go eat, I’m starving!” Bakugou rolled his eyes and told you to get in, and you chuckled as you got into the back seat.

During the ride Kirishima asked about your day, and you told him about the strange occurrence while you sparred, with a crowd forming to watch and people popping out of nowhere to challenge your winning streak. “Wow (y/l/n)! You still haven’t lost? I should spar with you and see if I can win!” You giggled at that and agreed to spar with him next time. And you kept reiterating how strange it was that there’d be so many people in the room at once, when normally there’s only a handful at a time.

They both questioned it but soon shrugged it off as Bakugou parked the car in front of the sushi restaurant. Lunch was a whirlwind of Kirishima asking you questions, you asking them questions, and Bakugou bickering at Kirishima when he ignored Bakugou entirely. It was fun seeing the two so close. Eventually the conversation rounded back to your sparring matches earlier.

“So how long were you there? If a crowd formed you had to have been at it for a while.” Kirishima asked, trying to figure out how long you’d fought people. You answered sheepishly, a bit embarrassed that you’d lost track of time so easily, “Well...when I checked the clock it’d been about five hours.” Both of them froze, staring at you with wide eyes. Your face burned and you took a sip of your water. Bakugou was the first to talk. “You’re a fucking beast.” Kirishima’s expression went from shock to concern. “Are you ok? Like, how are you not passed out right now?”

You assured him you were fine, and explained how much time you spent in the gym nearly every day, even after patrol. Your gym time only seemed to surprise them more, and after they told you about their gym schedule, you realised just how much time you spent in the gym, and the more you thought about it, the more you realised how lonely you were.

Kirishima seemed to catch on to your stress and smoothly changed the subject. After lunch, Bakugou drove you back to the agency, and Kirishima asked if you wanted to go to their place for drinks. “Sure, as long as I don’t have to carry you again,” you laughed. Kirishima turned and looked at you, his cheeks nearly as red as his hair. “Wait...you carried me?”.

Bakugou barked out a laugh. “Yeah shitty hair, she threw you over her shoulders and hauled your wasted ass back to the car.” Kirishima’s face somehow burned brighter and apologized profusely, but you waved it off. “Nah, it’s fine! Besides, if Bakugou wasn’t being such an ass I wouldn’t have had to carry you. I just got sick of trying to keep you standing upright while he snickered at me being short.” Bakugo scoffed. “Well you’re definitely not tall.” “I don’t need to be to kick your sorry ass.”

At that Bakugou went silent and Kirishima exploded in a fit of laughter. “Put a sock in it shitty hair! And you!” Bakugou glared at you in the rearview mirror, “I’m gonna beat your stubby ass next time!” You looked at him with a smirk and a raised eyebrow. “Is that a challenge, Ground Zero?” He growled at the mention of his hero name. “Yeah short stack, it’s a fucking challenge.”

Soon the car parked in the parking garage, and you all went up to their shared apartment. It was spacious, and very modern. Bakugou pointed out the bathroom and went to the kitchen to grab three bottles of beer. The three of you settled into the living room and the conversation went just like lunch did. Most of the questions were directed at you, and you answered honestly. 

The questions were generic and friendly, what you like to do in your spare time (besides going to the gym), your favorite foods, colors, your likes and dislikes, your pet peeves. After the first round of questioning you’d only got through one bottle of beer. “Hey, what other kinds of alcohol you got?” you questioned Bakugou. He got up and listed his menu from the kitchen. You asked him for a glass of the cream liquor, and he returned with a glass filled with the liquid. 

After hours of aimless conversation and a few more glasses, you found yourself slowing as the alcohol permeated your system. That was your signal to ask for a snack and water, and you stopped your intake of alcohol. Bakugou caught on to your self cut-off. “You don’t need to limit yourself. We’ve got a spare room if you need to stay the night, and if you need to call in tomorrow the agency has plenty of people to take over your patrol.” His statement shocked you, and you looked at him like he was crazy.

He spoke again, “If you’re cautious about sharing a place with two guys, Kiri’s nearly wasted already, he can’t do shit, and if I were stupid enough to do anything I’m sure you’d kick my ass before I got within a foot of you. As for tomorrow, both of us are off, and like I said, the agency is not short-staffed. And i’ve got meds if you’re worried about a hangover, and I don’t mind lending you clothes if you need them.”

You were stunned. Completely and utterly bewildered. But he made good points, so you decided to take up his offer to spend the night. “You know what, I’ll stay. But I'm gonna slow down with the alcohol, because hangovers are a bitch to deal with even with painkillers.” And with that, the three of you continued talking. Soon Kirishima passed out and Bakugou hauled him into his room. Surprisingly enough, when he came back out he actually engaged the conversation.

He asked about your fighting style, how you developed it, how long you trained. Most of his questioning was about your physical strength and tenacity, nothing personal. But then he asked why you spent so much of your time in the gym instead of with friends. And you answered honestly and bluntly, probably mostly because of the alcohol. “To be honest, I’m not much of a social butterfly. I don’t really have friends, because I don’t ‘make friends’ with people. In fact, you could call me antisocial. I don’t really like talking to people. I don’t speak unless spoken to or unless speaking is necessary.”

And he only dove deeper. “Why not? The world too scary from down there?” he teased. You laughed darkly at the comment, choosing to drain your glass of alcohol in favor of answering the implied question. He looked at you and raised an eyebrow. “What is it?”

“What is what?”

“You avoided the question.”

“Well it wasn’t really a question, just a jab at my height again”

“Yeah, and you didn’t jab back.”

You huff, “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I think I know exactly what the fuck I’m talking about.”

“Just drop it Bakugou.”

“I won’t drop it. Not until you give me some kind of answer.”

“Are you always this insensitive or is it just the alcohol?”

“Spill it (y/l/n).”

“Ugh fine! But I’m not giving you any details.” You crack your knuckles, take a deep breath, and a long drink of water before you talk again. “I used to like making friends. But all the friends I made turned out to be liars and fakes. I was used. A lot. After a while I finally had enough, so I stopped approaching people. I decided if people want to be in my life they can approach me. I got good at reading people, and I shut them out fast if they weren’t good for me.” You sighed, praying that was enough to sate Bakugou’s drunken curiosity. It wasn’t.

“And if people approached you with the intention of using you? If you read them wrong?” he pried. Screw it. You already spilled this much right? Might as well get it out. “I got really good at pretty bad things. I don’t usually read wrong, because I’m suspicious of everyone that walks into my life.” Internally, you prayed that was enough for him. “What kinds of bad things?” Well that’s unfortunate.

“Things like eavesdropping. Spying. Hiding. Manipulation. Lying. Deceit. Long story short, I have trust issues. It’s easier to keep people at arm’s distance than make friends that could hurt you.” At that, Bakugou goes quiet, his eyes studying your face. And you stare back at him, waiting for the judgement that comes with opening up to people. Waiting for the ‘maybe you should openup more’ and ‘just give people a chance’. But his answer is unexpected. His face softens ever so slightly as his eyes lock onto yours, his voice low, soft and somewhat comforting. “Sounds rough.” You look away, trying to keep your breathing steady, not giving tears the chance to fall, “I’m gonna turn in. Good night, Bakugou.”

Moving quickly, you disappear into the spare room and curl up into the bed sheets. Why the hell are you crying? You’d talked about this before. So why now, of all times, are you suddenly sobbing into your hoodie, clinging to it like your lifeline? You try your best to keep quiet, hoping the only other person awake doesn’t hear you. You don’t know how long it’s been, but you hear the door handle turn, and you freeze, closing your eyes and steadying your breath, going completely silent in mock-sleep. It was a technique you’d perfected long ago, turning off your emotionsin order to avoid confrontation.

You hear heavy footsteps, knowing who it is that just stepped in. He was the only other one still awake. You feel the bed behind you dip, and strong arms curl around you and turn your body, burying your face into Bakugou’s solid chest. His deep voice rumbles softly in your ear. “I know you’re not sleeping shorty. I listened through the door and heard you crying. Just let it out.” And before you can stop them, the tears you’d willed to disappear begin to pour down your face. So you sob into his chest, his arms tightening around you as your entire body shakes.

Soon you’re drifting into sleep, your body giving in to exhaustion. You’re in a deep sleep, and Bakugou stays there, holding you, until the last hiccups subside. He leans away to look down at you, and brushes strands of hair away from your face. “How long has it been since you’ve cried, princess? How long since you bottled up those emotions inside you?” He questions your sleeping figure. He presses a soft kiss into your forehead, gets up and tucks you under the blanket before silently leaving the room and going to bed.

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When you wake up, your eyelids are heavy and swollen, making it hard to open them. You tenderly massage them open, remembering the reason they’re so puffy and sore. Despite the discomfort of your eyes, you feel refreshed and light, a weight lifted off your chest that you didn’t know was there in the first place. No, it was more like it’s been there for so long you’d gotten used to the pressure. Slowly, you sit up and blink away sleep.

You check the clock and it’s 8 am, a couple hours later than you normally get up. At the foot of your bed is a set of folded clothes. You quickly change out of the clothes you slept in, and into the t-shirt and sweatpants that you assumed were Bakugou’s. As expected, they’re giant on you, but they’re comfortable, and they smell like Bakug-- NO. Stop. You shake the thought out of your head as quickly as it came and go out to see if either of the guys are up.

You quickly get your answer when you see Kirishima lounging -- freaking SHIRTLESS -- on the couch. Talk about eye candy, damn. Like sure, his hero costume doesn’t exactly hide anything, but it’s different when he’s laying across a couch in nothing but gray sweatpants. Again, you clear the thoughts before they screw you over, and greet him. “Hey (y/l/n) how’d you sleep?” “Pretty good, thanks. I’m surprised you’re up so early Kiri.” He laughs at the observation, “Yeah. Bakugou got me up a little while ago and I couldn’t go back to sleep.” Yeah, that makes sense. You nod and make your way into the kitchen, and as expected, Bakugo is there.

“Good morning Bakugou,” you greet him. “Morning shorty. How’d you sleep?” You answer with the same reply you gave Kirishima a few seconds ago. You lowered your voice a little and leaned slightly toward him, “Thank you, by the way. For last night. I really needed that.” He just nods, focusing his attention to the fridge to find breakfast. Satisfied with that, you turn and head back to the couch and chill with Kirishima until Bakugou calls you to the table to eat.

You ask them what they do on their days off, and today the plan was just to stay in and lounge around the house, not doing much of anything and just relaxing. So, that’s what you did. As the hours passed, you found yourself liking the company of the two men, despite their imposing size. You didn’t feel small with them. But the question lingering at the back of your mind was why? Why were you so comfortable around them?

Thoughts buzzed around in your head like a hurricane, mixing with the doubt that they were in any way comfortable with you, and the fear that they were only using you for what men always seem to want. Soon you were telling yourself all the bad scenarios that would end in them leaving you all alone again. You didn’t even know them all that well, but you had become attached and were already bracing yourself for the inevitable loss of the two. The memory of crying to Bakugou last night swirled into your mind and wouldn’t disappear.

You were spiraling into a panic like you always did when people got close. But it was hidden, suppressed, contained. Whenever you panicked it never showed, the only telltale sign being your sudden need to scratch the soft flesh on the inside of your elbow. You hadn’t scratched in so long that any previous wounds had completely healed over, the only evidence left were small patches of discoloration, only evident if you stare long enough. That was about to change as your nails dug furiously while you stared off into space.

Kirishima was the first to snap you out of your spiral, grabbing your wrists and shaking you out, calling your name frantically. Your senses began to drift back, and the next thing you noticed was the sting on your forearms and the light stain of blood on your nails and fingertips. Your eyes drifted from your wrist up to your inner elbow, and you winced at the sight of blood seeping out of the shredded welts. It looked like it should have hurt more than it did.

“Bakugou! Get the first aid kit from the bathroom! (y/l/n)’s bleeding!” Kirishima called out to him. You heard quick heavy stomps and a curse from the blonde before he came over to examine your arms. He looked at you, and you looked back at him, still dazed from your inner turmoil. He knew from that look you were out of it. Instead he questioned the redhead to ask what had happened while he was in the kitchen figuring out what to make for lunch.

“I don’t know! I was watching tv and when I turned to ask her something she was staring off into space and scratching at her arms! She was bleeding before I even turned and I grabbed her before it could get worse.” Bakugou clenched his jaw and went to get a wet washcloth to clean up the blood. You were watching this all unfold before you, still not quite attached to reality. When he returned, he put the cloth on his lap and grabbed your face in his hands, stroking your cheeks with calloused thumbs. He called your voice, attempting to ground you, and didn’t stop until you finally took a few quick breaths and blinked, answering him with a small ‘sorry’.

He grabbed your wrists, which Kirishima had already released, and spoke to you in a hushed tone, but still strong and intense. “(y/l/n) I need you to listen to me. Are you allergic to anything? Anything at all?” It took a few moments for you to regain your mental balance, but you shook your head. “No. Nothing.” He let out a soft breath and with that he began to clean and dress your arms, wiping away blood and cleaning your fingers and nails in silent concentration.

By the time the entire ordeal was over, the different sensations from the sting of the alcohol wipes to the cool ointment and the soft gauze had grounded you completely. As Bakugou went to put the first aid kit away, Kirishima reached out and gripped your shoulders, looking over your face and into your eyes with tender concern. “You okay little pebble?” He moved his large hands so they rested at the sides of your neck, his thumbs gently brushing at your jaw.

You blush lightly at the endearing nickname and the new sensation of his hands. Leaning slightly into one of his palms, you nod. “Yeah, I’m okay. I don’t really wanna talk about it, but I’ll be just fine. I just got distracted.” He looked at you with a face that said he didn’t believe your excuse, but he’d drop the subject because you asked him to. Letting his hand release you, he gives you a toothy, mischievous grin. He leans in closer to you and nearly whispers, like he was about to reveal the world’s biggest scandal.

“That was the most gentle I’ve ever seen Bakugou. Thanks for bringing that side out of him,” he says, flashing another smile. You giggle a little at the thought of the explosive male being gentle, not quite believing it if you hadn’t been subject to it. Then you remembered why he’d been there, tending to the wounds you’d subconsciously inflicted on yourself. Your eyebrows knitted together lightly, remembering the spiral and being shaken out of it by a panicked Kirishima. When Bakugou came back, you grabbed one of their hands in each of yours.

“I’m sorry for worrying you,” you say softly. After a few moments of silence, you decided you owed them an explanation of some kind. “And thank you for catching me. The scratching is a nervous habit when I’m stressed. I thought I got rid of it, but obviously I haven’t. It’s been a long time since it happened last, and it was triggered by my own drifting thoughts. It’s purely subconscious and I don’t realize what I’m doing until the pain becomes too unbearable and snaps me back to reality.”

By the end of your explanation, the two were looking at you with concern and understanding. Kirishima gently smiled, and Bakugou’s features relaxed, when you squeezed their hands appreciatively. The comfortable silence was suddenly broken by a low growl. You laughed at the comedic timing of your stomach and glanced at the clock. It was just after 12:30, and Bakugou got up to go make lunch. After eating you asked to wash your clothes, and asked to use the shower. Kirishima got you a spare towel and plastic wrap to cover your newly dressed forearms. Five minutes under the hot water and you were already feeling suffocated. The steam clouded your lungs, making it harder and harder to breathe.

You knew you had a problem with hot water. You always have. Jacuzzis were never relaxing for you, and you loved the cool water of the ocean the deeper you dove toward inky blackness. You turned the handle in the shower, letting the water turn cold. Your body shivered slightly from the sudden temperature change, but quickly relaxed as the cold water washed away all the stress from a few hours ago.

When you had finished up you went to go relax on the couch again, settling into the space between the two. Now with your mind clear, you began to wonder something that you probably should have wondered a while ago. How tall were they, really? They stood over a foot taller than you, so they had to be at least 6 feet tall. You looked from one to the other, your head swiveling back and forth, before you decided to just ask them.

Bakugou barked out a deep laugh, “Why you wanna know shorty? Finally realizing how scary we look from down there?” You rolled your eyes at him, but he answered anyway. “I’m 6 foot 4 (193 cm).” Kirishima looked down at you and beamed, “I’m 6 foot 6 (198 cm).” Bakugou scoffed, and you giggled at the blonde getting upset over height. Suddenly you bounced up from the couch and turned to the two, barely containing the thought that suddenly popped into your mind. Out of the two, the redhead seemed like the more likely to carry out your request, so you turned to Kirishima with wide excited eyes and a lopsided grin like a kid in a candy store.

“Can you carry me?!” you blurted out a little too loud. Kirishima blushed hard, and then you realized how ridiculous the request sounded and rushed to explain. “Sorry! That sounded weird right? I just wanna know what life looks like from that high up! I’m only 5 feet tall so…” you rambled a little before Kirishima laughed and stood up. “Sure little pebble.” He turned you around and squatted down, put his left arm around your waist and right arm against your thighs just above your knees and told you to lean back and sit on his arm. 

Once you were seated snugly, your back pressed against his chest, he stood up and you gasped a little from the new angle. The floor looked so far away, and you knew that if Kirishima decided to hold you by your armpits your feet would dangle a foot from the floor. Bakugou looked up at you from the couch and scoffed. “Alright shitty hair, put her down before you drop her and she breaks her legs from the fall.” Your hilariously rebellious brain took that as a challenge. You smirked at Bakugou, his eyes daring you to do exactly what you were thinking. But before you could move he looked at the redhead behind you, and the arm around your waist tightened as he reached to grab his right bicep. He slightly activated his quirk, locking you in place. 

“Aw, c’mon! You’re no fun! I’ve jumped from buildings before and landed perfectly fine!” You whined as you squirmed in Kirishima’s arms. Both of them laughed at your struggle, and once again, your brain instantly settled on ‘challenge accepted’. You quickly surveyed your surroundings, going about the best way to escape Red Riot without damaging any of the heroes’ property.

Before either of them could react, you materialized quirk-cancelling handcuffs and clasped one side around Kirishima's left wrist. The instant it went into effect, you brought your foot up and back down into the redhead’s stomach just hard enough for his grip on you to loosen up. When his right arm dropped to grab his abdomen, you slipped down along his body, grabbed the free cuff on your way down and snapped it around the leg of the coffee table, Kirishima landing flat on his ass with an ‘oof’.

Once again, Bakugou just stared in shock. You crossed your arms and smirked at him, “What was that about dropping me, Bakugou?” He was silent. Kirishima chuckled from his spot on the ground. “Damn, you’re a sneaky one little pebble.” You turned back around and took a deep bow. You materialized the cuff’s key and released him, storing them back in your quirk’s storage space. Finally recovering from his shock, Bakugou looked at the time and said, “Alright, short stack. Let’s go spar.” You turned to him and spoke what your brain had thought only moments before. “Challenge accepted.”

[chrisevansfuturewife]

rafe dating the super good girl of the island and getting PISSED when he takes her to a party and guys keep trying to pressure her into like smoking or doing a line with them after she already politely declined, just having and drink and he gets super protective

TW: underage drinking, violence, blood, mention of drug usage

rafe decided to host tonights party instead of the usual host, topper. You weren’t huge on the party radar but seeing that you’re dating Rafe who’s the complete opposite, you’re obviously always his arm candy while he’s off snorting whatever substance is on the coffee table that night.

“is that the best you can do?” Rafe laughs across the ping pong table to where Top is facing him, ball in hand about to launch it into the red solo cups

rafe looks over at you, legs crossed on the leather sofa holding a red plastic cup. he nods, pointing his finger before he takes the fateful shot- only to make it and throw his hands up in excitement

“WOOO” he smiles and looks back at you “you see that shot baby!?” he yells, pumped that he told topper so

“good job!” you clap “keep it up hun”

he blows you a quick kiss which is a little uncharacteristic of him but you don’t mind the sweet gesture

“what’s up y/n” some random guy from school who has a reputation for being late to class to finish his joint in the boys bathroom sits down next to you. he slings his arm around your shoulder “why aren’t you up there drinking with your boy? trouble in paradise?”

you laugh “no, quite the opposite. things have been fantastic with Rafe and I” you sip your beverage out of the red cup “can you move over a little?” you put your hand on his chest to try and push him away

“why, you uncomfortable?”

“no, just you smell atrocious” you mumble as the scent of weed and hard liquor stings your nostrils

“how about we go outside and get more fucked up since pretty boy is too busy for you?”

“i’m all set” you say rolling your eyes trying to stand up but another guy whose friends with skunk breath is blocking any space you have from leaving the couch

“aw come on princess, live a little” dumb and dumber hold a joint in front of you

it’s not that you’re scared of doing weed or anything, you just don’t find it interesting. there’s absolutely no curiosity you have to try the drug

“guys come on leave her alone” Topper had shifted from his spot at the pong table

“what’s going on” the familiar voice of your boyfriend asked, concern audible in his voice as he made his way into your view

upon seeing the two douchebag burnouts, he grabbed one by the shirt collar and topper followed his motions

“she said no” rafe practically growled at the red eyed boy “get out of here now”

anyone on earth with a working brain knew that rafe had potential to do anything he wanted. it was clear this guy either didn’t have a brain or all the drugs he was on made him extremely dumb.

“because she doesn’t know what she’s missing. come on rafe. you know firsthand how awesome this shit is”

then rafe held nothing back, sucker punching the guy in the face. a loud crack audible to you.

“come on” kelce had appeared and taken your hand “come on it’s okay” you held onto him as he wrapped his arm around you for support as rafe and topper beat the fuck out of the two jerks who don’t know the definition of no

you peek over to see rafe covered in blood and toppers red fist, and his forehead shiny with sweat

you get up from the grasp of kelce and walk over to see the boys still punching and kicking at the two bodies now unconscious on the ground

“guys i think that’s enough” you say, on the brim of tears. topper steps away from his victim as rafe just keeps pounding the guy with as much force as the first punch he threw “rafe. come on baby” you walk towards your boyfriend, wrapping your arm around his bicep “i’m okay now, i’m okay. it’s okay”

his muscles relax and his arm drops to wrap around you

“you okay baby?” he wipes a piece of hair out of your face

“i’m okay”

“i’d never let anyone hurt you. ever” rafe stares into your eyes with all sincerity possible

“i know you wouldn’t. thank you for protecting me”

“i’m just glad you’re safe” he kisses the top of your head

didn’t know how to end this so um yeah whoops. i hope u enjoy anon 🥺🥺 sorry it took so long lols i’m just very lazy

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