#migraine is about 2 steps from being bad enough that i give up on waiting for ibuprofen to help and go actually Leave The House while my hea

[doctorwhoisadhd]

head feels like its imploding

[ovaryacted]

RELEASE YOUR INHIBITIONS

PAIRING: RE4! Leon x fem! reader

SYNOPSIS: Leon comes back home all tense from the stress building up in his body. Being the loving partner you are, you give him some much needed relief.

CONTENT/WARNING: 18+/MDNI. NSFW. Porn without plot. Hard Dom/Sub. Authority Kink. Hair Pulling. Degradation/Humiliation. Throat Fucking. Spanking. Spitting. Knife Play. Light Cum Play. Dacryphilia. Use of stoplight system. Some aftercare towards the end.

WC: 5.4k

NOTES: Godamn sorry about the wait but here is Week 2 of Kinktober, probably the craziest and longest thing I've written so far. We're slowly catching up to get back on schedule before the month ends lol. Yeah, intense fucking, Leon is a warning on his own. I had fun writing this too and I hope you all like it! Likes and reblogs are always appreciated!

《 Kinktober Masterlist 2023 ⟡ Main Masterlist 》

Hard leather boots scraped the floor of the entryway with every step he took. The wooden planks softly creaked underneath his weight as he closed the front door behind him. Taking a step forward, he threw the keys in the glass bowl at the entrance console table and the duffle he carried fell to the ground.

It wasn’t like Leon to be this irritable, but the bullshit he kept handling continued to build up in ways he could no longer manage. He was usually a man of composure, keeping his emotions in check and not being able to register them half of the time. He tries his hardest not to crack under pressure, the years of training he had to endure ingraining into his mind to tolerate the worst of his circumstances with zero complaints.

This week, he was at his limit, ready to snap at any given moment from having limited time to feel normal. The constant assignments and the shitload of responsibilities he’s given without so much as a please and a thank you were driving him insane. It was just too much, and he could feel the migraine he had since this morning beginning to pulse at his temples.

Even if he didn’t vocalize it, you could always tell his cues before he did. Knowing him so intimately gave you the ability to read his body language, a quality Leon was always grateful to have found in his partner. You’ve been with him long enough that you learned to tell his mood based on the way he walked around the apartment.

If his footsteps were light and soft, he was alright, possibly having a small smile on his face and looking for you to wrap his arms around your waist in a hug. If you didn’t hear his footsteps despite him being inside, he’s probably being mischievous or anxious about something, no in between.

In the instance where his footsteps were heavy and loud, he was stressed and annoyed. This circumstance was rare, Leon doing his best to keep the inconvenience of his job out of the safe space you two created in the comfort of your home. But you knew him best and understood he was a man who walked around with the weight of the world on his shoulders.

Coming out of hiding from the bedroom, you saw him right at the threshold separating the hallway and the living room. He didn’t say much, but you saw it in his eyes, how his thoughts tormented him to no avail.

“Baby, you alright?”, you asked him carefully, approaching him slowly while he stood as still as a statue due to all the tension he had built up inside him. The second your fingers grazed his chest through his jacket, you felt the rumble of a sigh, but his hands didn’t reach to touch you.

“I’m guessing today was a bad day?”, you waited for him to speak on his own before making any assumptions.

“Just pissed”, Leon said almost in a growl, and you could tell it was bad from the way his jaw clenched and his eyebrows furrowed together. You didn’t know the extent of his irritation, but from the way his chest shook with every exhale, it was deeper than usual. Nodding in silent acknowledgment, you were mentally preparing for what you would ask him next.

“What do you need?”, at that question, Leon’s bright blue eyes met up with yours, his mind painting a picture of what he wanted but he refused to say it completely.  

“I don’t think you want to know”, he muttered, but you were stubborn just like him.

“Try me”, you wouldn’t turn him down, no matter how crazy his suggestion may be. You’ve seen him at his worst even if he attempted to hide it from you, but you knew he needed you in more ways than one.

There was a moment when his gaze landed on you again, finding comfort and reassurance in how you saw what he was planning. Your soft look told him everything he needed to hear without saying anything at all. I trust you. I’m here for you, whatever you need.

No words came out as he grabbed your hips, pulling you flush to his body and kissing you harshly. It took you off guard at first at the force of the kiss, but you welcomed it and let him lead. His hands squeezed at you aggressively, teeth and tongue meshing together between you two as your breath caught in your throat. It was as if he wanted to eat your face alive, his lips pressed hard against you and making your body heat up. All too soon, he pulled away, leaving your lips tingling from the sensation of his mouth on yours.

“Bedroom. Now.”, pleasantries were out of the window, and Leon wasn’t up for any games. You followed his orders, playing the role of whatever he needed you to be at that very moment. The tension in the air was thick between you, seeing his figure coming in through the door and closing it behind him as if to signal that there was no escape.

Standing and waiting for his next command, he teased you the slightest bit, taking off the leather jacket he wore and tossing it on the armchair in the corner of the room. His head turned to look at you, mouthing two words that filled your body with arousal.

“Come here.”

Feeling gravitated to him, you did just that, walking towards him until your feet were almost touching his. His demeanor told you he wasn’t going to play nice, that much you could read. But Leon was always full of surprises when he was like this, so you never fully knew what to expect and that’s what made it so exciting.

“What am I going to do with you…”, he seemed to ask himself this, running his fingers over your cheek as you chased his touch. He chuckled when you did, noticing the blush you already had on your face.

“You remember what to say and do when it gets too much?”, Leon asked you, his tone softer than before as he studied you when you nodded. “Tell me”

“I say red, or I tap your thigh”, you tell him simply, and since he arrived at the apartment he has a smile on his hardened face.

“Good. Now get on your knees”, his tone was back to being forceful, watching you move down to the floor without hesitation.

“I’ve always liked you like this, ready and eager to please. I knew I did the right thing keeping you around”, he said, but his words only added to the fire starting to grow in your lower gut.

“You know what to do baby. Don’t make me tell you twice”, he called out to you, feeling your hands running up his thick thighs through the dark wash jeans he wore.

You were quick to get him out of his pants, undoing his belt at the buckle and tossing it to the side behind you. Lowering the zipper and popping the button, you grew shy knowing Leon was watching every move you made, but you’ve done this a hundred times over. The thick denim material hiding his body slipped down to the middle of his thighs, followed by you pulling down the briefs he wore.

Already half-hard and throbbing, you wasted no time, kissing his bulge and touching his hips. He let you do that for a while, just simply touching him and building up the tension before your neck strained with the way he yanked your hair in his fist. Needy eyes focused on his face, and he smirked down at you.

“Don’t tease me. Open wide, I want to feel the back of your throat”, he was back to using a more authoritative tone of voice, and you knew better than to make him wait any longer.

“Yes sir”, you merely gasped, your lips parting to suck at his tip, tasting the savory precum through his slit.

Inhaling a breath, your hot mouth encased his cock easily, slowly slipping down as far as you could and relaxing your jaw before taking more of him. You breathed in your nose now, bobbing your head and hollowing your cheeks with your hands on his thigh for support, nails curling into his skin. You heard the groan of relief from above you, and you couldn’t help the way your lips curled upwards around him as you sucked him off.

You knew how he liked it. Messy, hot, and sloppy, your throat a safe haven to help him forget all of the things that upset him at that moment. Lucky enough to have some semblance of control before he took charge, you felt his fingers tighten on your head. Clutching the strands at your scalp, he pushed your mouth off of him until just the tip rested against your tongue.

“Having fun?”, you heard him say, a deep chuckle leaving him as he looked down at you. With one of his hands still wrapped in your hair, the other took hold of himself and tapped the tip of his length on your tongue, making you pant out for him.

“My needy girl, always wanting something in her mouth or she’ll get cranky”, he was condescending in his words, and you knew not to take it personally. In reality, all they did was make your body quiver from excitement.

Tugging you closer to his body with a pull of your hair, your mouth surrounded him again, forcing you down to the very base of his pelvis until your nose rubbed against his pubic bone. He held you there for a few seconds, just to feel your throat constrict around him and you sputtered against him. A tap to his thigh was felt, and he pulled back so you could take a breath before he did it again.

His hips moved to thrust toward the wet heat of your mouth, chasing the comforting warmth as dragged your head down simultaneously. You could feel him hitting the deepest parts of your throat, fighting the urge to swallow around him every time he dipped further down into you. He lost himself to the sensation of you deep-throating him, feeling the way your spit pooled in your mouth and covered his length every time he slipped back out.

“Always take me so fucking well. Mouth just as good as your pussy, I love it”, he rasped out, driving his hips further towards your face as you struggled to breathe through your nose.

His balls hit the bottom of your chin, drool beginning to cover the lower parts of your face with every piston of his hips. Leon reveled in the audible gagging sound that filled the bedroom, how your fingers clutched at his thighs but didn’t tap him as a signal to stop. He kept going, a consistent and snappy rhythm that made your jaw sore from how long it’s been opened. He might’ve been a bit rough with you now, but he knew you could handle it, he’s trained you to do so. 

“You’re disgusting baby. Letting me do this to you, letting me fuck your pretty face like the whore you are”, he felt the vibration of a moan around him, eyes glossed over from the force of his hips colliding with your face.

“I bet you’re just soaked right now. Yeah, I know you are. You always get wet when you have some dick down your throat.”

Your face was flushed and you felt yourself clench, your legs squirming against the floor as your knees twitched. You so badly wanted to squeeze them together for some relief, to run a hand down between your thighs and rub at your clit until you finished yourself off. But you knew better, you refrained because this wasn’t about you, this was about him.

Leon’s cock pulsed against your tongue, another groan coming out of his mouth as one of his hands came to curl around your neck. He could feel the ridges of your skin expand from how deep he hit, every thrust against you stretching the base of your throat. It only made him fuck into your face harder, the pace of it making you dizzy and your eyes rolling into the back of your head.

“I’m gonna cum right here, and you’re gonna let me”, his fingers squeezed around your neck, making it even harder for you to breathe properly.

He overtook your senses, knowing he was about to fall over the edge. He cursed under his breath, words getting lost in the loud shlick sound that came from every push and pull he gave you. Tears gathered at your lash line, your grip around his shaking thighs growing weak the more Leon moved.

“Fuck fuck fuck…”, repeating those words like a mantra, he finished with a loud grunt. 

Grabbing your head to pin it flush against his hips, you felt his cum going down your throat, choking against him as tears ran down your face. Clutching at his body and breathing shakily, you tried to remain calm to the best of your ability. You took everything he had to give you, no questions asked, closing your eyes and focusing on grounding yourself to whatever made sense.

With ease, Leon pulled his hips back, letting you catch your breath as you coughed the slightest bit. He could see the way you looked now, taking it all in and engraving it into his memory. Spit on your chin and cheeks, some of it hitting the top of your nose, face flushed and lips puckered up and pink. Your eyes were hazy, pupils dilated and almost lost as they focused up at him.

You were a mess, and that was how he liked you. He liked it when you were his mess.

But you knew he wasn’t done with you, not yet anyway.

“Get up.”, commanding you once more, you got off of your knees and stood on your feet, your knees almost buckling underneath your weight.

Leon grabbed your face, fingers squeezing your cheeks and kissing you on the mouth again. He could care less about how messy it was, how he could taste himself against your tongue, but that was what he wanted. He wanted to chase that sense of possession, that feeling that you’re the only one who could handle him like this.

Walking you towards the bed, the back of your knees hit the mattress, making you fall backward against it. Your elbows dug into the sheets, positioning yourself up on the edge of the bed as Leon kicked his boots off followed by throwing his jeans and shirt off. You looked over his body, eyes trailing over the hardened muscle he’s gained over the years, and your mind began to wander.

He lunged towards you, pawing at your body and trying to take off your t-shirt and lounge shorts. You gladly let him, his touch rough with fingers weathered from the constant gun holding. Leon was elated to find you not wearing a bra underneath, knowing you didn’t wear one when you were home. He left you in your underwear, a hand curled around your bare thigh and kneading at the skin.

“Making it easy for me aren’t you?”, he leered, hands instantly going towards your chest and squeezing your breasts. You moaned at the touch, arching further up into him and letting him handle you however he wanted.

“Yes sir”, you didn’t know if he was directly asking you the question, but you responded to him anyway.

An airy gasp left you when his lips grazed a nipple, your hands going to his hair and running through his scalp. His tongue lavishly circled one nipple before he quickly moved to the other, biting it softly and feeling it harden in his mouth.

“Color baby”, his voice filtered through the mess that was your brain, getting through to you.

“Green sir”

“Good”, he started to look for something around him, your ears picking up the sound of an item being unsheathed. Shiny metal filled your vision, and your eyes widened.

Leon held his tactical knife in his hand, thick fingers wrapped around the handle as he looked down at you. The grin on his face was almost dark, something you’ve only seen on rare occasions, but you couldn’t ignore the way it made a shiver run down your spine.

“You trust me, don’t you?”, he asked you, as if to reassure himself that you would let him do what he wanted to do next. You nodded, but he wanted to hear it from you.

“Answer me.”

“Yes, I always trust you sir”, your voice was shaky but the intent of your words wasn’t missed. You trusted Leon with your life, and when it came to things like this you’d do anything for him.

“I know you do”, he told you, the blunt part of the knife going towards your neck.

You gasped at the touch, keeping still and trying not to arch into the teasing sensation of cool metal running down your body. Leon’s grip curved a bit, the blade moving into the indent of your collarbone and down in between your chest slowly. The heat in your body was becoming unbearable, your hips twitching when you felt the edge of the knife dip toward the end of your belly button.

“You’d just let me do anything to you right? So long as it’s me doing it to you, an easy slut like you wouldn’t care what I did with this knife”

Anyone else would find those words disrespectful, but the sick part of you only wanted to indulge. You wanted more of this, more of Leon releasing his inhibitions and doing and saying exactly what he wanted.

“Yes sir”, you nodded, softly panting when the sharp edge of his knife ran along the waistband of your panties.

 “You’d let me fuck you with this against your neck wouldn’t you”, he chortled darkly, moving the knife towards your thighs, being careful not to shift the way he handled it to avoid accidentally cutting you.

You nodded and your breath hitched in your throat, fingers grasping at the sheets the higher the blade went up your body. Leon was meticulous in his teasing, one of his hands moving to spread your legs more and to pin you down. His gaze went to the wet patch against the gusset of your panties, smirking again to see how turned on you were from how he treated you.

“You’re sick for liking this shit darling. I didn’t know I was dating someone so perverted”

Carefully, he twisted the knife so it was flat against your pussy, the hard surface pressed on your clit through the cotton fabric of your underwear. A needy moan filled the room and you had to stop yourself from grinding into the blade, growing desperate for more.

“Please sir…”, was the only thing you could say, Leon humming in response and pressing the knife harder against you. If you shifted your hips or legs even the slightest bit, you would hurt yourself. The danger of it all was what sent your hormones spiking, knowing that you put all of your trust into Leon like this was enough to turn your head to mush.

He decided to take pity on you after all the teasing, moving the knife away from between your legs and running the edge towards your hip. Swiftly, he cut at the waistband of your panties, making you yelp at the quickness of it. He did the same to the other side, ripping the now ruined cotton fabric out of his way and putting his knife on the bedside table away from the both of you.

Leon pounced on you, spreading your legs open and trialing a sneaky hand in between them. You didn’t protest when his fingers started to rub your pulsing clit, whimpering out at the touch and moving your hips for more. Clutching at one of your thighs to keep you opened up for him, he continued his touching, favoring tight circles on your sensitive nub and watching every reaction you made with hungry eyes.

“Awe? Does my whore need more?”, he commented, fingers trailing further down to stroke your entrance, marveling at how wet you were.

“Knew you’d be fucking soaked for me”

You felt two of his fingers slip into you and curl directly into your g-spot with practiced precision, crying out for him loudly. Leon leaned his body further down against you, his torso keeping your legs open as he thrust his digits into you. You arched your back and went to grasp at his shoulders, grinding your hips to fuck up into his hand. Already so pent up from the way Leon used your throat, you grew desperate to find any form of relief from his constant torture.

“Look at you, using my hand to get yourself off. Needy pussy can’t last a single day without being touched by me”

“Sir, please…”

You were begging now, stuck on the feeling of his thick fingers picking up their pace inside you and making you keen. Leon was taking in the show underneath him, how your eyebrows creased and you bit your lip to the point of bleeding the closer you got to your release. He could feel it, from the way your tight walls started to clench around him with every plunge.

The center of his palm came to rub against your clit and another digit entered you, bringing you to the point of overstimulation from the stretch. You were so close, your nails digging into his biceps and leaving red streaks in their wake. Your thighs shook, throat growing raw from the sounds you made and the pressure was building up so quickly in your body. On the verge of getting that pleasure you craved, Leon’s touch disappeared, and you opened your eyes in agitation. He sucked his fingers into his mouth, licking off whatever remained of your fluids and not caring about what he had just done.

“Why?!”, you said to him, voice higher in tone and unsteady from how your orgasm was taken away from you. He raised an eyebrow at your outburst, body leaning closer to you and his face turned serious.

“Are you trying to fight with me?”

“N-no sir”

“Mad you didn’t get to cum the way you wanted? I don’t give a shit if you’re upset, you take what I give you”, his sharp tone made you whine, the dominance rolling off of him in waves as his fingers squeezed at your hips.

“Repeat it.”

“I only take what you give me sir”, voice soft to prevent upsetting him further.

“So you do remember the rules. Let’s see just how good your brain is at following orders. Turn around, on your hands and knees”, he demanded, watching you move into position on the bed. His hands were on your hips, pulling you towards him so you were flush against his body.

“Count for me”

It was the last thing you heard before you felt a sting on your right ass cheek. The force of it made you lunge forward with a wince against the sheets. You weakly turned your head so he could hear your voice instead of digging your face into the bed.

“One sir”

“Good to know you still have manners”, he retorted, bringing his hand back down on the other cheek with a hard smack.

You kept counting, your voice wavering with every spank Leon delivered onto your ass. He’s fully aware of the fact that he was heavy-handed, using that to his advantage and not holding back with the intensity of the hits. Your skin began to turn red from the impacts, growing sensitive to the touch and no doubt leaving his handprints behind. 

“Fuck ten! T-ten sir!”, you mewled into the bedsheets, body shaking from the treatment you had to endure and flinching away from him the slightest bit.

His hands were completely off your backside, rubbing at your shoulders affectionately.

“Color”, he was almost the slightest bit worried he went too far, eyeing you closely for any sign of discomfort on your end. 

“G-green, green sir. Promise”, you said, lifting your head to look at him from across your shoulder. Your cheeks were red, slightly breathless and tears ran down your face again. His hand went to rub your thigh, silently communicating he accepted you wanting to continue.

“You want me to fuck you now?”, he asked and pressed your hips towards his once more. You shivered when you felt his hard cock against your core, biting your lip and nodding your head.

“Please, just fuck me. Need it so bad”, you couldn’t stop your body from moving on its own, shifting back towards him and feeling the way his length bumped into your clit with every soft grind.

You sobbed at the feel of Leon finally pushing himself deep inside you with one thrust, so wet there was no resistance. He was balls deep, just taking in the way you twitched around him, sighing happily at the feel of having you like this.

“Christ, you feel good. Always so hot and tight”, he grunted to himself, pulling his hips back until he was almost out of you and moved to collide with your body again.

There was no buildup, no teasing, just pure need as Leon fucked you with no restraint. You couldn’t do anything but take him, your bedroom filling with lewd skin-slapping from the way your ass clapped against his hips.

Losing yourself to the pleasure, you fucked back into him, whining into the sheets and growing light-headed from how hard he was moving against you. The tip of his cock kissed your cervix every time he dove back into you, balls smacking into your clit with every shift. He fucked you with reckless abandon, huffing and grunting under his breath. Your wetness dripped down his shaft and onto the bed, the sound of every thrust loud and audible, making your ears burn.

“This all you needed to calm down huh? Just a good fucking pounding”, you didn’t even register his words, too busy focusing on how he was stretching you out.

One of his hands came to curl into your hair again, yanking your face up and having your head against his chest. You knew you were crying now from feeling so good, face flushed and tongue lolling out on your lip.

“Panting like a bitch in heat. My little crybaby”, you hummed at him, agreeing to anything he said because you didn’t want him to stop.

He turned your head to face him then, kissing you hard and you tried your hardest to reciprocate. Swallowing any sound that came out of your mouth, his hand on your hip squeezed even harder, and you knew he was going to leave bruises. Just the thought alone was enough to make the rope of tension in your body wound even tighter.

“Open your mouth”, he ordered you, internally smiling when you parted your lips and stuck your tongue out.

Gathering some spit, he spat directly into your mouth, the glob transferring right on your tongue. He saw how you swallowed and trembled against him from the act he just did.

“Nasty fucking slut. Cry for me as I fuck you senseless”

He pushed your head towards the bed again, pounding into you deeply now and having a hand on your lower spine to deepen your arch. Your hot walls were pulsating around him, growing tighter the closer you got to the orgasm that was snatched away from you. He was ruining you down to the core, your thighs shaking against his and no longer having the energy to meet his thrusts, taking whatever he was willing to give you.

You shrieked when you felt his hands on your clit again, circling the sensitive button and arching into his touch. The bed was shifting underneath you, your fingers holding onto the sheets and releasing a loud wail. Your body was shaking from exertion, not knowing how much more you could take with your release right around the corner.

“C’mon, cum for me. Cum for me so I can fill you up the way you want”

Leon was nice enough to not let you beg for it, his words making that rope of tension finally snap. Mind going blank, you didn’t recall if any sound came out of your mouth as you tumbled over the edge violently. Your skin felt damn near feverish, an electric shock starting from the balls of your feet to the top of your head and exploded into a sense of pins and needles running all over you. If it weren’t for Leon’s hands holding you steady, you would’ve jerked yourself completely off of him.

“Shit, there we go baby, yeah. I’m gonna cum deep inside you, gonna watch it spill out”, he was spewing nonsense, determined to fill you up until you couldn’t take anymore.

His rhythm grew sloppy, back hunching over your body and groaning out your name against your ear. Pumping into you a few more times, his cock throbbed as he came with a guttural moan. Curses spilled from his mouth as he painted your insides, not wanting to stop moving against you or leave your wet snatch. He sighed when he finally stopped, giving you an affectionate kiss on the cheek and neck while he came down from his high.

“You still with me?”, you heard him say, only being able to offer him a soft and tired hum.

He pulled out of you carefully, hissing at the feeling and his eyes were right on your pussy. His cum leaked out of you, running down your inner thigh from where your hips were still propped up. He couldn’t stop his thumb from collecting some of it and smearing it over your entrance, another way to show how he’s already claimed you.

Your mind was distant, still coming down from cloud nine as you heard his footsteps grow distant behind you. He came back towards you with a wet rag from the bathroom, cleaning you up as gently as he could knowing you were probably sensitive. Disposing of the rag, he brought you into his arms on the bed, mindful to not smother you and let you breathe.

“I’m sorry baby”, he said to you, kissing your face and bringing you back to him. He wasn’t always that rough with you, preferring to be more loving in bed instead. But when he was like that, you welcomed it nonetheless.

“I’m still in one piece Leon. You won’t break me that easily”, you finally replied to him, nuzzling into his palm as his thumb wiped the tear streaks from the sides of your face. He chuckled then, relieved that he hadn’t done too much.

“Do you feel a little better now?”, you asked him, not needing a verbal confirmation to know he felt more at ease based on how affectionate he was being.

“Yeah, much better. I needed that, thank you”, he placed soft kisses on your lips, happy sighs leaving him. He’ll tell you about his day later on, right now he just wanted to enjoy this moment a little longer.

“I love you”, you told him, knowing that sometimes you had to remind him that you still cared after moments like these.

“I love you too. Are you in the mood for a nap? Because now I’m just tired”

Strong arms brought you closer to him, cuddling into your neck and continuing to kiss your skin. You didn’t object, letting yourself get comfortable in his embrace as the both of you began to doze off.

“You owe me another pair of panties by the way”, you said with your eyes closed, hearing Leon snort against you.

“Yeah yeah, I’ll take you shopping tomorrow so you can buy more. Now shush I’m trying to sleep here”, giving you another kiss on your temple and gently tracing the curve of your back.

You’d do anything for him, and Leon was content to know that you would.

©️ ovaryacted 2023. Please don’t repost, copy, translate, or feed into any AI. Support your fellow creators by reblogging, commenting, and liking!

taglist: @roseglazedlens @kennedyswhore @httpsuguru @httpsvix @daydreamrot @kmt123whatsthetea @cinnarette @cehrie @dmitriene

[wardenparker]

Hummingbird Has Landed, ch 12

Marcus Pike x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

After the debacle of his failed engagement and relocating to Washington to take charge of his task force, newly minted Special Agent Marcus Pike is ready to get back out into the dating pool once more. A slew of bad dates has him feeling a little down, and he takes an old friend up on an invitation to get away and get his head on straight. Imagine his surprise when he finds not only fresh air, but his soulmate as well - hiding in plain sight but in the unlikeliest of places.

Rating: E for Explicit! 18+ Word Count: 12.4k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: occasional mention of American politics, pregnant character, food/alcohol consumption, mentions of clothing/regulated dressing for occasions, mentions of therapy because we believe in self care here, reader is in a previous relationship, love triangle, reader is mentioned as turning 30 during the course of the story, dom/sub dynamics* Pregnancy. labor, childbirth, health emergency, hospital stay, talk of living wills and things going wrong, traumatic birth, mentions of death/possibility of death, reassurance, emotional hurt/comfort. Summary: Months after going public with your relationship with your soulmate, you and Marcus get the phone call you've been waiting for: Sydney has gone into labor! Notes: The migraines and the pain aren't gone but the story continues! This week is a rollercoaster, my darlings. I hope you enjoy 🧡

Ch1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8 ~ Ch 9 ~ Ch 10 ~ Ch 11

The call came late on a Saturday night during the first full week of September. Busy getting ready to go out for a later-than-usual date, you had jumped straight up in the air when your phone started ringing. The words 'labor' and 'hospital' got you and Marcus moving instantly, and you were off to meet Juan and Sydney at Sibley Memorial Hospital faster than a heartbeat.

“Now, it’s gonna be awhile.” Marcus warns you, even as he speeds towards the hospital. “I might have to come back to get you some clothes.”

"As long as it doesn't take as long as Junie did to be born," you joke, trying to dispel your own tensions even as you fidget in your seat. "Mom was in labor for twenty-six hours. I think Syd will just reach in and pull the baby out before she waits that long."

“She’ll be yelling that she has a dinner menu to put out.” Marcus snorts, understanding how frustrated Juan has been when his wife refused to slow down until the very end.

"If she doesn't have her recipe notebook out within an hour of giving birth, I'll be astonished." She never slows down, your best friend, and you adore her despite it being worrying sometimes. At least you got her to agree to the more-than-generous New Parent Leave package the inn has adopted. They're both technically on your payroll so you know they'll be well taken care of.

“The new sous chef she hired to help the old one step into her shoes has worked out really well so far.” Marcus knows that talking about the inn will help you focus. Keep you from worrying yourself up into a state until you can lay your eyes on Sydney.

"She needed another set of hands anyway." Just because you know what he's doing doesn't mean you're not grateful, and you fidget in your seat before glancing down at your phone for the thousandth time. No new texts. You just have to remind yourself that that is a good thing. "Hopefully this new guy will work out and she'll keep him on long term."

“Yeah, it’s nearly a fully house every night in the restaurant.” Business in the inn might have taken a slight hit from the negative press, but the food was still bringing in the locals.

"Thank god for that." Over the last few months your bookings haven't been too stellar, but you've been making up for it with restaurant patrons and special event bookings. At least you had room enough to accommodate Marcus's parents when they came up in July. "I don't want to think about what would have happened if we'd lost restaurant sales along with bookings."

“I’m just happy that the ‘anonymous sources’ have tapered off lately.” The accusations are still out there but you and Marcus have been laying low for now.

“What I wouldn’t give for two seconds with our sniveling exes.” It’s obvious that it has been Sam and Vanessa feeding things to the gossip columnists, although technically all you have is your say-so. They’re being clever enough to make sure that there is no paper trail and nothing being said that marks them as the obvious source of the negative rumors. “Why do we have to be the better people?” You gripe with a pout. “We could just as easily say made up shit about them. For all we know, they were the ones having an affair and this is a whole situation of they doth protest too much.”

“I don’t think so.” Marcus would love for that to be the case. “That week of the state dinner, he was sick.” He reminds you. “I think Vanessa went over to his house and somehow discovered she’s his soulmate. She told me that she had just found out, not that she just met him.” He theorizes. “And now, they are twisting their own narrative, but I don’t understand why.”

“If they’re trying to discredit Mom through me, it’s not working.” Though your business may have taken a hit, your mother’s first term has been fairly impressive so far. She’s getting her legislation moving at a brisk clip and her focus on the economy is already strong. You sigh, though, pushing out the bad thoughts, and squeeze his hand over the gear shift. “They don’t get to ruin our goddaughter’s birth. That’s not in the cards.”

“Nope.” Marcus made sure to pack the gifts for mother and baby in the car while you were rushing around to get dressed. Both of you are excited. “Doesn’t matter, today is about Sydney and the baby.” He chuckles. “And poor Juan too. I know he’s a wreck right now.”

“He’s so excited and so nervous.” The clock on the dashboard reads ten minutes until midnight and you squeeze his hand again to relieve some of your own nerves. It’s not like you’re the one having a baby. There’s no reason to be nervous, but you are. For your best friend and your goddaughter and for Juan who is like a big brother to you.

“Yes he is.” Marcus tosses you a grin. “I know he’s supposed to be handing out cigars, but I managed to get my hands on a box of very nice ones. When the baby is born, I’m going to give them to him. To celebrate the important milestones with.”

“They’re the ones your dad smokes, aren’t they?” Beaming that grin right back at him, the conjured memory of the vanilla and spice scent of Matthew Pike’s favorite cigars is easy to conjure. “He’ll love that.”

“I hope so.” Marcus grins. “I can just imagine how proud he’s going to be. He’s going to be crying as he holds his child for the first time.”

“He’s going to be a leaky faucet by the time we get to the hospital,” you predict with an affection laugh. “They deserve this. They already love that little girl so much and they’re going to be amazing parents.”

“Yes they are.” He can’t help but be a little envious, although it’s not a sharp feeling because he knows it will happen for the two of you soon enough. He will be content with cuddling his new goddaughter.

There’s little traffic at this time of night, and before you know it you and Marcus are parking and heading inside to track down the room number that Juan texted to you. Sydney and Juan’s families will be alerted when the baby is born, but it was their wish to have you and Marcus in hand for the birth. You’ll be right there in the delivery room with Syd and Juan while Marcus keeps the families updated in a group chat. You’re co-captains of Team Moral Support and you’re excited for every second of it.

His hand is on your back as you stop in front of the door. “Are you ready, sweetheart?” He asks with a beaming smile.

“Nervous. Excited. Very ready.” You lean back to steal a kiss, warmed through by the comfort of having him by your side for this enormous step in the lives of your close friends. Your chosen family. “And…I can’t wait until it’s us.”

“Soon enough.” He promises. “Soon enough.” He pushed the door open and knocks with the back of his knuckles. “Knock, knock.”

“Oh thank god!” Comes the response from inside, and you’re laughing at the relief in Sydney’s voice when you and Marcus push inside. “The Godparent Brigade has arrived! Here to pump you up, handle your relatives, and fetch your sushi after the little peanut has arrived on the scene.”

“Get the sushi before anything else.” Sydney demands, rubbing her stomach and nearly salivating at the thought.

"I've already got your order in my phone, and Marcus will jet out to get it. You won't have to wait at all, honey." It doesn't surprise you in the least that Syd is thinking about one of her favorite foods, but you move over to her side in the bed as the two men hug and give your best friend a squeeze on her shoulder. "How are you doing? Do you want me to go strong arm a nurse for some ice chips?"

“Juan already has two cups of them, letting them melt down.” She grins at you and then winces when another contraction hits.

It takes everything you've got not to wince or cringe along with her, knowing that it won't do a single lick of good and won't help her feel any better. "How far apart are they?" You ask instead, rubbing her back in small, soothing circles.

“Twelve minutes, forty-seven seconds.” Juan tells you as he looks down at his watch and then back at his wife. “We are down from fifteen minutes.”

"Getting closer and closer!" Practically squeaking with excitement, you can see the same light in Juan's eyes despite the worry lines in his furrowed brow. He just wants everything to go well, and you can't blame him there.

Sydney huffs out a small laugh, knowing you are doing exactly what she had wanted you to. Cheerlead for her. “Did you happen to bring those hard candies?” She asks, her eyes wide and pleading.

"Yes!" Ready to dig into your purse immediately, you swirl around and grab your bag from where you had dropped it to one side when you came in the room. "I've got sour lemon and orange, and I've got the sweet strawberry ones. What are you feeling at the moment?"

“Sweet.” She practically moans the word and reaches out to you with grabby hands. “Don’t hold out on me now.”

"Here we go, babe." One of the candies is deposited in Syd's outstretched hands and a few more get tucked into the pockets of your cardigan to make sure you have one on hand for her at no more than a moment's notice. "Plenty more where that came from, I promise."

“You are the best.” She moans, popping the candy into her mouth and rolling her eyes in pleasure.

"Now how are you doing, Dad?" With Syd moaning over her small treat, you turn your attention to Juan.

“I’m hanging in there, but I think I forgot my bag.” He rolls his eyes and huffs. “Too busy making sure the car seat was secure.”

"Babe, you have a key to their place, right?" If not, you'll pull out your keys and send Marcus back to Alexandria with your spare house key instead. You would go yourself, but you vowed not to leave Sydney's side once you got to the hospital. The kind of vow that is definitely life or death and she will hold you to.

“Juan gave me one.” Marcus nods, and agrees with your silent plan. “I’ll run and get the bag. Pick up some coffee that’s better than the shit they serve here, yeah?”

"I have a feeling we're going to need it." Juan nods and claps Marcus on the shoulder gratefully.

"I'll call you if anything changes," you promise him, turning back to your own soulmate. "You're amazing, sweetheart. Thank you."

“I’ll be back as soon as I can.” He reassures you, leaning in to kiss your lips before hugging Juan and bussing Sydney’s cheek. “Ask for the good drugs, mama.” He teases with a wink, wanting her to laugh.

"You bet your ass!" She groans, wincing more heavily with this contraction than she had with the one before. "Get back here fast, Marcus. Speed. Lots!"

“I’ll use my badge if I get pulled over!” He calls back as he rushes out of the room.

"He'll be back in no time." Realistically you know it will take quite a lot of time, in fact, but your job tonight is not to be realistic. It is to be positive and upbeat. To keep spirits high. "I think Malachi is going to win the betting pool." You grin and stand up by the head of the bed with Sydney, right there to hold her hand if she needs you. "He had Monday – tomorrow, technically – as the day, but I don't think anyone had Sunday."

“Juan…” Sydney smiles. “Take a nap, baby. I know you are exhausted. You were about to go to sleep when my labor started. Birdie is here, so get some sleep.”

He raises an eyebrow, knowing his wife is in pain, but also knowing that a short nap will ensure he is at his best to help her. "We'll take shifts," he compromises, eyeing you just as much as his wife. "So someone is always here holding your hand and timing your contractions. Short naps only. I don't want to miss anything."

“I promise I won’t push her out without you.” She teases, leaning in and pressing her lips to his. “Go, it might be your last nap for the next eighteen years.”

"I love you, Warrior Queen." There are more kisses and more sweet words, and finally Juan crosses the compact hospital room to curl up on the Dad Bench and try to get at least a little bit of sleep before his baby girl enters the world.

“I don’t want to be horrible through this.” She admits quietly. “I’m hoping the labor progresses so I get an epidural quickly.”

"There is not a single person who is going to even blink an eye if you are upset during this labor," you promise her. She pats the side of her bed and you perch on the edge of the mattress, holding her hand all the while. "If you wanted or needed to rage through the whole thing, we would stand by your right to do so. But we'll also stand by your choice to do things any other way. Whatever way is going to be the best possible experience of bringing your first baby into this world."

“Will you do me a favor?” She asks quietly, eyeing Juan as he turns into the couch and gives you his back. He’s already snoring lightly so she’s not worried about him overheating. “If something happens…..” This is the first time that she’s ever said anything out loud and her eyes are anxious. “I’ve signed the paperwork already, but if something happens, I don’t want to stay on machines.” She whispers. “Promise me that you’ll help him let go. And if it’s me or the baby…you know what I want you to choose.”

“Nothing is going to happen.” As firmly and sternly as you can, you squeeze your best friend’s fingers in yours and bite back the instant tears that spring but behind your eyes. The fact that this conversation is even necessary is heartbreaking, but women die in childbirth every single day. Nothing is going to happen. You almost shake with determination but that isn’t what she needs right now. The person who means the most to you in the world besides Marcus is looking you in the face and asking you to be loyal to her. And you will. “I promise.” Two small, devastating words. But if she’s thought this far ahead, she’s also had another thought. “You have a will somewhere?”

“In the safe at home.” She nods, relieved that you are not fighting her and it’s obvious on her face. She had expected an argument, she knows she would have gotten one from Juan, which is why she chose you as her medical POA. “The papers are in an envelope in my bag.” She nods towards the incredibly organized hospital bag.

“Okay.” You nod, still holding her hands tightly. “I love you. I will honor your wishes. Now tell me which onesies you packed to bring her home in so you can get excited again.”

“All of them.” Sydney snorts, only half kidding. “There are twelve that I couldn’t decide between, so I brought them all. Figured we would decide which one looks best when we are holding her.”

“We can absolutely decide later.” She’s already a little sweaty at the top of her forehead from the contractions and you nudge a cup of melted ice chips toward her just to cool her down. “Do you have a top three?”

“The ones in the right hand pocket.” She takes the cup and starts to gulp down the cool water.

In the right hand pocket of Sydney’s neatly packed hospital bag, three folded baby onesies await their new owner: one from her mother in law covered in little surfboards and ocean waves and sunglasses to represent how much Juan had loved surfing when he was out in California. One from Syd’s sister AnnaLeigh with Once Upon a Time…a Heroine was Born written out like the beginning of an illuminated fairytale, and one from you and Marcus emblazoned with the logo of Syd’s favourite hockey team to get her baby girl started out right. “They’re fantastic choices,” you hum, looking at the clothes with misty eyes.

“You see why I couldn’t choose?” She laughs, shaking her head and setting down the rest of the ice chips to melt. Seriously not understanding why they just wouldn’t give her water. Labor is fucking thirsty work.

“I think I like AnnaLeigh’s,” you admit, before tucking them back into the bag as carefully as they had been before. “But we’ll see how she feels about them when she’s here. Who knows? She might come out the chillest baby in the world and then we now she matches Juanito’s surfer phase.”

“Juan actually likes that one too.” She admits with a grin. “He’s so fucking excited for this baby to come. He swears if he could carry her for me, he would.”

“He totally would have if he could.” The grin on your face breaks wider, and you sit back on the edge of Syd’s bed with her. “So would Marcus. In a heartbeat.”

“How did we get so fucking lucky?” Her eyes mist up, overwhelmed with the beautiful thought of both of you so happy and cared for with your soulmates.

“I truly have no idea.” The mist in her eyes halts for just a moment as another contraction hits, but it doesn’t fade. It doesn’t dim. Syd’s happiness is true, and you’re so grateful to see it. “Thank god they get along though. We’d be screwed if our soulmates weren’t friends.”

Panting, she leans back and rubs her belly. “We would make them be friends.” She jokes. “The most awkward small talk over beers until they find a common interest.”

“Lucky for us?” You sit forward and help her readjust her pillows from where they had fallen out of place. “They’re basically as inseparable as we are again.”

"Lucky for us." She agrees, leaning back with a sigh and smiling at you. "Thanks. You know what I need before I do sometimes."

“For most of the time we’ve known each other, I’ve been shocked that we aren’t soulmates.” At some point in your teenage years you had discussed it, but your appendicitis scar already existed and she has never born that. “I gotta be honest, I used to be bummed that we’re not. But when you met Juan, I understood why.”

She kisses the air in your direction. "Because you had Marcus waiting on you, too." She reminds you. "We are better than soulmates. We are sisters by choice."

“I would have waited forever for him.” She gets the same air kiss from you, and you descend into giggles together. “We really are lucky.”

The giggles are interrupted by another contraction, making Sydney hiss and squeeze her eyes shut as she tries to breathe through it. Coming out as more of a whine until the pain passes again. "They- They are getting closer." She huffs when she can talk again.

“We’re down to eight minutes and sixteen seconds apart,” you tell her, checking your watch. “You’re doing awesome, Syd.”

“I can’t believe it.” She grunts when she gets a foot in her rib. “I don’t know whether to be impressed that it’s going so fast, or cry because I’m not further along.”

"You're allowed to be both, you know." Frankly, you're both. She is progressing quickly but you know she would rather have just arrived fully dilated and ready to go. "Just remember. At least she's not dragging her heels like Junie did."

“I don’t know how your mom did it.” She huffs, thinking about your mother and how excited you had been for a younger sister. “She was still working while in labor.”

"My mother is some kind of weird combination of feral cryptid being and absolute machine," you chuckle, shaking your head. "If I'm trying to do bookings and make staff schedules during labor, please slap me."

Huffing out a laugh, she grunts and rubs her belly again on the side. “Done.” She pants. “But get me my notebook.” She points to her bag. “I just thought about a salted Carmel mocha crème brûlée.”

“I am only agreeing to this because it will take your mind off the pain.” Still, you dig into the pocket opposite the onesies she has earmarked as favorites and come out with her battered and beaten recipe notebook. “It sounds like it will be nice to send to your sous chef.”

“It sounds like something I want to eat right now.” She groans, flipping open the tatty cover and laying it on her baby bump to quickly write down her idea.

“You’re going to be a little distracted and busy for a while,” you remind her. Still you can’t help but grin at her tongue poking out from between her teeth as she scribbles.

“Doesn’t mean I’m not hungry.” She moans pitifully after finishing the notes. “I was in the middle of getting a snack.” The pout that pushes her lips out would be comical under different circumstances but she’s horribly disappointed to have not gotten to eat before being bustled into the car by her frazzled husband.

“What was snack time tonight?” It is absolutely always the way to distract her when she’s feeling bad, and tonight is All Sydney All the Time, so you’re focused in one her.

She groans and whimpers slightly at the food she had to leave on the counter. “Cottage cheese with fresh peach compote and balsamic glaze.” She pouts even more. “It was going to be amazing. But I had to tell Juan that I was cramping.”

“I’ll make sure there’s plenty in your fridge waiting for you when you get home.” You can promise her that, along with their fridge and freezer being fully stocked with ready-made meals and easy to use ingredients that should last more than two weeks. Between you and Marcus and Malachi and her staff, you’ve all been secretly helping prep for baby’s arrival for a week already. Even Agent Bailey made a contribution to the frozen meals and added some veggies from her garden.

“Thank you.” She smiles you softly. “I can’t believe that when I leave, I’m going to be holding her.” She admits with a grin.

“She’s almost here.” As if to affirm it, another swift kick to Sydney’s abdomen is brutally obvious, and you grin. “And she’s excited about it.”

The two of you settle into a comfortable silence. Broken by contractions and the quickening of their pace. Sydney trying to be quiet as she pants through them to let Juan sleep.

Checking your watch again and finding nearly two hours have gone by, you tilt your head at your best friend and hand her another strawberry candy. "Marcus should be back soon, and your contractions are barely more than five minutes apart now. I think it's time to wake Dad up and call for the nurse."

Marcus has Juan’s bag in the backseat and he had cancelled the reservations he had made for tonight. They aren’t going to be used, and he had apologized profusely. Still, he stops at the inn to run up to the small gun safe, using the biometric lock to open it and reveal a small ring box. He had been planning to propose tonight, and he still can, it will just look different now.

"It's happening, isn't it?" On his one night shift per week, Malachi had seen you and Marcus hustle out the backdoor of the inn with bags in hand and seen not long after when Marcus reappeared in a hurry. Now he is waiting at the back door once again, but this time to snag Marcus before he can disappear in to the night.

“It is.” Marcus nods with a huge grin spreading across his face. “Juan forgot his bag. I’ll text you when she’s born.” All the staff are invested so he will be sure to let them know. “You’ve got the inn?” He checks, although he knows what the other man will say.

"That baby is your godchild." Malachi smiles surprisingly softly. "This inn is mine."

“I know.” He reaches out and squeezes Malachi’s arm. “Birdie trusts you with her most important treasure.” He praises.

"Not quite." He winks at the other man, considering him a friend now after many months of back and forth, and grins. "She'd never leave me alone with you."

Marcus snorts, well aware of the man’s proclivity to flirt. He matches that grin. “That’s because she knows how persuasive you are.” He jokes, winking at him playfully. “Besides. You are still yearning for your soulmate and will only be happy when he breezes into your life like he’s always been there.”

"Check all those doctors for my ankle tat, handsome." Malachi teases, shooing Marcus toward the door. "A man in scrubs is better than a man in uniform."

“I will.” He gives Malachi a salute and hustles out of the door to speed back to the hospital as quickly as he can.

It's on the heels of a nurse when Marcus comes back into the room, with Juan standing at Syd's side holding tight to your hand while you have been banished to the corner of the room so the nurse can do her work. "It's almost time!" You tell him excitedly, wrapping your arms around him the second he makes his way over to her.

“Holy shit, I made it just in time then.” He can’t believe how fast it’s gone, he had expects at least half a day or more of labor.

"Apparently Constance does not want to wait." The shine of tears in your eyes isn't going anywhere now that you're about to head to the delivery room with Sydney and Juan, but you hug Marcus fiercely. "And I can't wait to meet her. I'm so glad you made it in time."

“Me too.” Marcus presses his lips to yours, letting you cling to him for a second before you pull back. “Does she want me there for Juan or should I stay here?”

"Stay here and hold down the fort for us? She's going to be exhausted when it's all over but she's nervous about everything being okay in the room while we're gone." Wishing so dearly that this was your night only makes you smile because you know that it's only a matter of time.

“Absolutely.” Marcus nods and looks over at Juan and Sydney. “I’ve got everything here. You go meet your daughter.”

"We'll be back soon." Juan is beaming, practically hopping around, and looks like he might jump out of his own skin if given the chance. "She's almost here!"

Marcus laughs at the bubbly excitement, watching as the nurses wheel her bed out, with you and Juan right on their heels as she’s transferred over to the delivery room. “And now…” Marcus pulls out the ring box and flicks it open to look down at the gorgeous ring. “We wait.”

It's over an hour before anyone comes back into the room, and when it happens it's just you alone with a look of exhausted panic on your face. "Everyone's okay." The first words out of your mouth, but you murmur them while shaking slightly and bolting into his arms, so it isn't terribly reassuring.

That doesn’t sound reassuring, coupled with the desperate way you cling to him. Marcus folds you into his embrace tightly.

“She was breech…” Sniffling through the explanation and clinging to him even harder is about the best you can do right now. “And they couldn’t get her to turn. Then—then they did an ultrasound and figured out that—” The shudder that runs through you is all-encompassing. “She had her umbilical cord around her neck. So they had to do an emergency c-section.” The shaky breath you exhale as you lean back is enough to make him quake right along with you, but he holds you steady. “And then the placenta ruptured after they brought the baby out and—and Syd just kept bleeding—”

“Oh shit.” Marcus whispers in horror, his heart plummeting to his feet and he swallows harshly. “But they are both okay?” He had heard you say they were, but he needs the confirmation.

“They’re both okay.” You can barely manage to nod, tears spilling over for yet another time. “They took Constance to the NICU and Juan is with Syd in recovery until they okay her to come back here.”

“Thank God.” Marcus breathes out softly. “Hopefully Syd is asleep? I know she would be frantic if Constance isn’t with her after that.”

“Awake, but exhausted.” You’re still gripping his leather jacket, refusing to let go. It had been warding off the chill in the air conditioned room but now it’s your life line. “They let her hold the baby for a few minutes before they whisked her off to the NICU.”

“How is she?” Marcus asks quietly, worrying about the baby. “Could we sit with her in the NICU?”

“The doctor said not to worry.” Though you sniffle again, clearly very concerned. “That she’s seen babies in far worse condition come through it totally fine. But they wanted her in a place where they can help immediately if they need to.” Two tears leak from your eyes but you brush them away with the back of your wrist and try to breathe. “They’ll come down and tell us in a little while if she can come be with Sydney or if we’ll be allowed to visit the NICU. For now we just gotta—we gotta stay put. That’s why Juan wanted me to come tell you.”

“Then that is what we will do.” Marcus promises, rubbing your back gently. “I’ll wait to pick up her sushi, hmm?” He wants you to decide that is the best option because he’s not leaving you right now. Not for anything in the world. He’s already reached out to his team to let them know he’s out of pocket for right now.

“Until after she gets some sleep.” You nod against his chest and wrap your arms around his waist for a sturdy anchor. “This is…not a celebrating time. The only thing worth celebrating is the fact that they’re okay.”

The ring he had planned to give you tonight burns a hole in his pocket, but he hums in agreement, pressing his lips to your head. “I completely agree.” He murmurs softly. “We will just make sure that they are in perfect health.”

“I love you so much.” The sheer relief of having him in your arms now after nearly losing your best friend — both of them meaning more to you than life itself — is unspeakable. “And I’m so glad you’re here.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” He promises. “I think I’m going to text the group that mom and baby are resting comfortably and we will make the announcement later?” He asks. “I don’t want people to bug Juan or worry.”

“I think that’s probably a good idea.” The last that the baby arrival group chat had heard, Syd was being wheeled to the delivery room. They deserved an update.

“Why don’t you go into the bathroom and wash your face, sweetheart?” Marcus urges. “Change into your comfy clothes and I’ll send out a text.”

“I’m too anxious to sleep, but I’ll wash up and change.” It seems like it will make you feel less frazzled, and therefore more on your game to help your friends. “But if you need to lie down, you should. I’ll wake you up when the nurse comes in with news.”

“I won’t sleep.” Marcus is too focused on you, too in tune with your nervousness to ever nap. Not right now.

“Then change with me and settle in,” you suggest instead, knowing that if your positions were switched you would feel the same. “It might be a long night.”

Marcus nods. “I can do that.” He promises, rubbing your shoulders and moving towards the bags. “If you want to take a quick shower, no one would blame you.”

“I think I’ll save that trick for refreshing myself in a few hours from now.” Predicting that you’ll need it, you kiss him now and slip off to the adjacent bathroom with your overnight bag to change.

Marcus pulls out his phone and calls down to the florist department that is on the ground floor of the hospital, wanting Sydney to come back to a lovely bouquet.

Wash your face. Change your clothes. Try not to break out crying again that you almost had to put that conversation with Syd a few hours ago into action. By the time you come out of the bathroom in Marcus’s old FBI Academy sweatshirt and a pair of yoga pants, your shoulders are drooping and your feet are dragging but at least you’ve stopped crying.

“Oh sweetheart.” While you had washed your face, Marcus had changed out in the room. “Come lay down with me on the sofa/bench thing.” He urges, reaching for you again.

“The Dad Bench.” Curling up into his side immediately, you lay your head on his shoulder and breathe out another sigh. “After you left, she made me promise to make the decision if something went wrong,” you tell him quietly. “Juan would never be able to…and she knew…that if she made me promise. I’d do what she wanted.”

He had been stroking your arm, fingers freezing as he absorbs the implication of that statement. “I’m glad it didn’t come to that.” He closes his eyes and sends up a prayer of thanks and continued good health to whomever might hear him. He doesn’t wish that on anyone, least of all his soulmate and one of his best friends.

"It almost did." Tears come again, fresh and few, but they are definitely there. "The only other time I've heard Juan pray in Spanish was when his mother had a heart attack a few years ago."

“I would be praying in every fucking language I could if it were you.” Marcus whispers. “To every God ever imagined.”

"Everyone is okay." Having to remind yourself of it fairly often seems...fairly reasonable, all things considered. You had stood at your best friend's side and looked her and her soulmate in the eyes as the doctors worked to control her bleeding. As she lay on a table with the distinct reality that those would be the last moments of her life.

But no. Everyone is okay. And soon they'll send her downstairs so she can rest comfortably, and they'll bring little Constance to her to have joyous moments with her family instead of fearful ones.

“Everyone is okay.” He echoes softly. “But…I asked the nurse for a rollaway bed for you.” The nurse had slipped into the room to check on you while you had been in the bathroom, before he had changed. You had just walked into the other room and closed the door, in fact. He had thought it would be best to prepare for you to not leave this room anytime soon.

"Did she say anything else?" No news is good news most of the time when you're in a hospital, but if Marcus got to speak to a nurse you want to know everything.

“She said that momma and baby should be in here by the time visitor hours start.” He couldn’t get a timeframe beyond that, but he took what he could get.

"That's..." Turning your wrist to check your face, the dial reads just after four in the morning. "That's about four hours. And I know Juan won't be down without them. So...I guess we should settle in?"

“Of course.” He doesn’t move, just continuing to hold you. Feeling you relax against him slowly.

"I guess...rain check on date night sex?" You huff weakly, trying for a joke. By this time of night on a date night you would normally be fast asleep – and very naked – in each other's arms.

“A rain check with you is better than any legal tender.” He jokes back, smiling softly even though he had hoped it would be engaged sex.

"What a night." The longer that you sit with him, the calmer you get. It's such an enormous thing for you, to have someone to anchor you as well as he does, and you sigh again as you deflate just a little more into his side.

“Not exactly how I imagined the night going.” Marcus admits with a small sigh. He’s not unhappy, he just wishes the birth hadn’t been so traumatic for everyone.

"Tell me what we were going to do tonight." Thinking about absolutely anything else seems like a very good idea right now, and while you know it was already late when you were leaving the apartment, you also know that Marcus had made plans for tonight.

“I had booked us a late table at Kingbird.” He tells you, smiling at the fact that Sydney had pulled the strings to get the reservation. “It was supposed to be the last table of the night.”

"The restaurant at the Watergate?" Your eyebrows raise when you look up at him and you're practically pouting. "I've been dying to try that place."

“I know.” He had asked and there was a list of places, but he had chosen that one to immortalize as special for the two of you. “And booked us a room at the hotel.”

"Shit." The pout on your lips deepens when you realize how much work Marcus had put into the night, only for it to be interrupted. "I'm so sorry, love. We'll have to reschedule everything. It sounds like it would have been beautiful."

“This is more important.” Marcus insists. “Don’t apologize. This is where I want to be, with you.”

"I don't think I could make it through tonight without you." It would be too much to handle on your own. With such deep emotions entangled in every second of the night, without your anchor you might have just flown apart. "I don't like the idea of doing anything without you anymore."

“You would have, sweetheart.” Marcus knows that, you are so damn strong. So much stronger than you ever believe about yourself. “I know you would have, but you don’t have to.” He stresses. “I’ll be here for you. Support you, comfort you. Celebrate your success and mourn your losses with you. I’m right here.”

"There are no losses to mourn tonight." And you'll be thanking every deity out there for any part they may have had in it. And also making sure that you note down the name of Sydney's doctor for your own pregnancies, because that woman worked quickly and thoroughly and without hesitation to make sure that both mother and baby made it through a birth that would have killed them both in decades past.

“We celebrate life.” He agrees softly. “And love. That little girl is loved so much already.”

"She's beautiful." And of course, there's a sniffle again. At least this one is happy and relieved. "Syd's big eyes and Juan's dark hair."

“Juan is going to be miserable when she gets older.” He laughs quietly. “She’s going to be gorgeous.”

"If she's anything like her mom, she'll have her head too far in the clouds to notice any of the boys or girls chasing her," you laugh along with him, remembering Sydney in high school. "Syd never had any clue how sought after she was."

“She was waiting for Juan.” It’s a bit of a romantic stretch, but it could also be the truth. “Plus she was too in love with crème brûlée. No mere man could compare.”

"She was dreaming about a caramel mocha one while you were gone." The maddening fear is starting to subside, finally, and you sink ever more deeply against Marcus on the bench. "I swear I'll make them for her every day for the rest of her life after what happened tonight."

“See?” He smirks to himself. “She loves them and I’ll help you. I can take the next week off, help with the inn and let you focus on Sydney and co?”

"You don't have to do that." It's a lot to ask of him, and you know that even though he has plenty of vacation time, you were planning on taking a trip down to Texas to spend New Years with his parents. "It's a deeply appreciated gesture, though."

“I don’t mind.” He protests, although he had been certain you would not let him do that for you. “I hope you know that.”

"I know, my love." In his lap, your fingers find his and tangle your hands together. "Why don't we wait on that decision until we see how Sydney and the baby are doing? I don't want you to take extra days out when I know you had been wanting to do other things with them in the next few months."

“Alright.” He will do what you want, let you lead this but he won’t let you exhaust yourself trying to carry everything. “Hopefully they will deliver the flowers I ordered before Syd comes back into the room.”

“You ordered flowers?” Sometimes you really feel like the things he does are magic, from small to large the gestures of love and support are always so deep that it seems impossible for him to not be the Superman of emotional support. “Honey, you’re—you’re too good. Too all of us.”

Marcus snorts. “My mother insisted we order flowers from her and dad, before this all went sideways.” He adds. Wanting you to know the context. “But Sydney just went through a traumatic childbirth. Flowers are the least I could do in order to make her feel loved and special.” He had ordered the flowers his mother wanted and then ordered other arrangements, including a welcome bouquet for Constance herself.

“Everyone is okay.” More reassuring this time, the words still come out in a hush and your eyes drop from Marcus’s for a moment before fluttering back up. “Thank you for being you,” you murmur after a moment. Marcus is that supportive and bolstering friend and family member. This is just who he is. And you’re so entirely grateful to have him here with you, especially right now.

“I don’t know if I would thank me for that.” Marcus teases, leaning in and kissing your forehead again. “But you can always count on me, hummingbird.”

“I know I can. And I’m thankful for that.” More than you could ever say. More than any words you have.

“Close your eyes.” He orders softly. He knows you are exhausted and emotionally spent. You need the rest so you can care for Sydney, Juan and the baby when they are back in this room.

“I can’t guarantee I’ll sleep.” Though you’ll try, knowing that the nurse doesn’t expect Sydney or the baby to be able to come down for at least a few hours.

“I know. Just closing them will be good.” He murmurs softly, still rubbing your back when you shift to lay across him. “You’ve been crying.”

“You would have been proud of me,” you murmur, settling against him one more time and shutting your eyes. “I kept it together until after everything happened.” It was shock, probably, but you still managed it. “Therapy is going to be a doozy this week.”

“Yes it will.” He won’t deny that or try to minimize your feelings. “You don’t need to skip it.”

“I’m absolutely not going to skip it.” Not this week, of all weeks. Not at all. The heaviness of the night is tugging at you, not for sleep but for rest, and for the first time you think you actually might be able to calm down fully as long as you can stay in Marcus’s arms.

Humming in approval, he doesn’t speak, letting the silence draw between you and waiting for your breathing to start slowing down.

The nap lasts about two hours. Two hours held tight in Marcus’s arms on that padded bench, and when you shift against him the small sound of noncommittal discomfort and surprise is enough to tell you that he fell asleep too. Good, you think, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. Everyone deserves a reset tonight. Even little Constance.

Marcus wakes quietly, as soon as you move, and he slowly remembers that he’s not in your bed. Both of you are at the hospital. He hums and sighs softly, knowing it hadn’t been a long nap, but it will do wonders for the coming hours.

"Hey handsome." The room is quiet and so are you, sitting up to stretch beside him and bring your limbs back to life.

“How did you sleep?” Marcus asks softly, watching you through heavy eyes.

“Better than I thought I would,” you admit, though you have a feeling that’s only because you didn’t sleep deeply enough for nightmares to set in. “You?”

“Pretty good nap.” He yawns. “Although I know I’m going to have to get coffee for all of us.”

Checking your watch, you stretch again and knock against his side with a lopsided grin. “The cafeteria should be open soon. I have a map of the hospital in my bag so you won’t get lost.”

“Just for that, I’ll bring you two coffees.” He groans, standing up and stretching out. “I should get dressed.”

“I’m sure you wouldn’t be the only visitor to go get coffee in your jammies.” Far from it, if you had to hazard a guess.

He snorts slightly. “I don’t doubt it. But I would hate to steal any of Juan’s new dad thunder.” He jokes, winking at you.

“Juan will be doing everything in bespoke suits with giant buttons that exclaim New Dad! for everyone he meets.” It’s sweet to think about, now that the fear is mostly past. It won’t wither entirely until you get to see mother and baby, but that should be soon.

“Of course he will.” Marcus laughs. “He’s already got an app on his phone that is just for organizing pictures of the baby.”

“Make sure you get the name of it,” you tease, leaning over to kiss him and getting one last stretch in — right into his arms. “We’ll need that for our kids, I’m sure.”

“You know it.” Marcus grins. “I’ve already downloaded it. It also has a wedding portion of the app. Basically you can upload all your important moments in it.” He doesn’t mention that he had set it up for the proposal that didn’t happen last night.

“You think of everything.” He really does, so it’s barely even an embellishment. At this point you’re just relieved that you can think of small things again instead of the larger, overhanging fear of just a few hours ago.

“Not everything.” Marcus snorts, winking at you. “Otherwise, I would have had coffee delivered by now.”

“Mostly everything, then.” One more kiss and you pull back to get your things sorted out around the room. “I’m going to tidy up a little and get out a couple of comfort things for Syd. So when she comes down she’ll have her favorite cardigan and things like that.” Absolutely anything you can do to soothe your best friend’s hellish night, you’re going to.

“That sounds perfect.” Marcus agrees. “I’ll go grab the coffee. What do you want, sweetheart?”

“Just my usual.” Your hum of appreciation is more relaxed than it would have been earlier in the night. “I love you, baby.”

“I love you too.” He promises as he quickly starts changing into the clothes he had brought.

Marcus is gone for about a half an hour before the door to the room opens again, but when it does it's Juan there – holding the door open wide as one of the overnight workers from the transport department wheels Sydney's bed back into the room with her nurse hot on their heels.

“We are back.” His tone is exhausted but elated at the same time. It’s been a sleepless night for him. Afraid that he would close his eyes and Sydney would be gone.

"How are you feeling, honey?" You're at Sydney's side as soon as the nurse is done getting her settled. The woman has the patience of a saint and excuses herself to go retrieve Constance, who is being allowed to leave the NICU.

“Tired. Sore.” She admits with a quick, tired smile. “Impatient to hold my daughter.”

"She'll be down soon." Glancing at the door where the nurse has disappeared to bring around that same little girl, the warmth in the room starts to grow exponentially. "Marcus went to get coffees. And I'll bring sushi for lunch. Cross my heart."

“I don’t know if I’m hungry.” Sydney admits with a slight shrug. She’s still a little disoriented from the drugs. “But coffee sounds amazing. I could sleep for days.”

"Then we won't worry about food right now. But Marcus is bringing back coffee for you, and he should be back very soon." You grin at your friends and send them both a conspiratorial shrug. "I sent him with a map, otherwise you know he would have gotten lost."

Juan laughs as he fuses over Sydney, hovering as if she might disappear if he steps too far away. “He should have been a Lieutenant in the military, as bad as he is.”

“I’ve just learned to always have a map for new places or to set up the gps in his car without asking.” It’s a quirk, and you all have them, but Marcus’s ability to get lost almost anywhere is a standing joke between the four of you and it’s so, so good to hear Syd laugh. Even if it’s only a little, it’s completely worth it.

The knock on the door comes just a moment later and Marcus pokes his head in. “Oh you’re here!” He brightens up and pushes the door open, the delivery person from the flower shop hot on his heels. “I was hoping to get all this inside before you did.”

“We just got back.” Syd is groggy for sure, but not so badly that she doesn’t register the tray of coffees and bag of food with the hospital’s cafe logo on it that you jump forward to snag from him and the delivery of flowers that comes in behind him. With the tension and fear of the last few hours and all the emotions and hormones still raging in her, Sydney is immediately in tears. “You—you got flowers?” She half-squalls like it’s the kindest and most loving thing any person has ever done in the history of time. For her, especially right now, it definitely feels like it.

“Ohhhh don’t cry.” Marcus frets slightly, even though he’s pretty sure that they are happy tears. “I wanted you and Constance to have a beautiful reminder of how loved you both are.” He walks over to the recovering woman, that he now regards as his friend, leaning down to kiss her cheek. “More are coming too.” He promises.

“It’s so sweet!” Syd huffs between large tears, hugging Marcus as tightly as her recovering body will permit. “You’re so sweet.” Even after we interrupted your plans, she thinks loudly, but manages not to say it. She knows what last night was supposed to be and she hated having to call when she knew Marcus was about to sweep you out the door.

“You deserve nothing but happiness right now.” He promises, looking over at Juan and squeezing Sydney gently before he pulls back and moves over to the new father. “Congratulations.” He is somber, aware of what the agony of the night had done to his friend.

“It was a hell of a night.” Juan pulls Marcus in for a hug — something the two men need right now for grounding, but Juan also murmur, “And sorry for the timing” to Marcus before pulling away.

“Don’t ever worry about that.” Marcus insists. “Doesn’t matter if I was in the middle of it, we would have been on our way.” Yes, proposing to you and giving you a beautiful moment is important to him; but some things are always much more important and this is at the top of that priority list.

“We’ll make it work.” Juan promises quietly, glad to see you absorbing Sydney in conversation while she marvels at the flowers that Marcus ordered.

“How’s Constance doing?” Marcus asks quietly, not seeing the bassinet in the room. “Will she be released from the NICU soon?”

“Our doc said she’s stable, so she can come down and have some family time and be fed.” As a brand new father of only about two and a half hours, that has Juan both puffing out his chest and teary with pride. “The nurse should be bringing her down now.”

“That’s great!” Marcus grins, knowing that both mama and daddy will feel better with their newborn daughter in their room.

Having settled Sydney with her coffee and treat — Marcus brought muffins back from the cafe — you excuse yourself to the bathroom and feel like you can finally breathe. Syd is here. You can hear her muffled laughing through the door. And the baby will be down soon. Everyone is okay.

“Looks Marcus…” Sydney’s voice is hushed and he can tell by her guilty expression what is coming. “Please, don’t apologize again.” He begs her softly. “There is nothing to apologize for.”

“I can call Kingbird,” she offers immediately. Explain it was my fault you had to cancel and get you a new reservation.”

“No.” He shakes his head and glances back at the bathroom. “I don’t think she’s going to be leaving your side for quite awhile and I cannot in good conscience try to convince her otherwise.”

He insists that she shouldn’t apologize more but Sydney still feels like she ought to, pursing her lips until she eventually tilts her head to look up at the men standing side by side at her bed. “You could still do it tonight if you wanted to,” she offers. It’s technically morning now — past six, anyway — but she hasn’t gotten any sleep yet so everything blends together. “It…” she blows out a sigh. “I know it wasn’t the easiest night.” For her especially. “But it would be nice to have Constance’s birth surrounded by happiness. Instead of what might have happened.”

Marcus considers it for a moment, frowning slightly and he bites his lip. “That is— are you sure?” He would never want to take away from Constance and her birth.

Sydney sits back in her hospital bed and takes Juan’s hand, letting him anchor her the way you always do with Marcus. “I don’t want the only thing I remember about the day my daughter was born to be that both of us almost died,” she admits quietly, knowing it’s a little selfish to ask him for this but also knowing that the happy memories you make together mean everything to the four of you.

He can understand that and he bites his lip. “Then….what do you think about me proposing here?” He asks. “It’s not the most romantic setting, but I think under the circumstances, it’s the best place to do it.”

“There’s flowers and best friends and I know you brought her back her favourite muffin.” Juan chuckles, feeling a bit misty eyed over more good things happening. “What’s more romantic than that?”

“Maybe we can do something that involves the baby?” Marcus suggests.

“I will squall.” Sydney warns, already tearing up all over again. “But quickly before she comes back…wrap the ring box in the baby blanket?”

“Perfect.” Marcus dives for the bag that had been packed for Constance and finds the soft baby blanket they had decided to wrap her in while in the hospital. “When the baby comes in, ask her to get the blanket for you.” Marcus tells Sydney.

“If we can keep a straight face,” Syd laughs, but agrees immediately.

Marcus hides the ring box in the folds of the blanket. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

“More than.” Sydney promises, right before the bathroom door opens.

You had washed up a little again, refreshing yourself and feeling a little more human while you were in the bathroom. “Did you manage to rest a little while you were upstairs?” Your focus is right back on Sydney but you take a second to give Marcus a kiss of thanks when he hands you your coffee.

“Yes.” She’s still tired and exhausted, but she smiles. “I did, you don’t worry about me.” She huffs, knowing that it won’t do any good. You will fret over her just like Juan will. “Looking forward to sushi later.”

“We’ll have a sushi party and baby girl can get milk drunk like a party animal.” Making the best of what had been a nearly calamitous situation is good for everyone’s spirits right now. You help the guys set up a little area as a breakfast ‘table’ for the three of you and set Sydney’s things on her tray. It’s about time for the morning shows that Juan loves so the tv goes on, and seconds later the nurse enters with her bundled up charge yawning as loudly as her little lungs can manage.

“Oh my god.” Marcus coos as soon as he sees the little angel in the flesh. She is perfect and nothing will convince him otherwise, falling in love with his goddaughter in a split second. “She’s so precious.”

“She’s perfect.” As expected, Sydney and Juan are both in tears all over again, and the nurse who helped Sydney get comfortable upstairs makes sure Mom and Dad have everything they need before bowing out to let the family bond.

“She’s beyond perfect.” It’s all you can do not to cry with them, looking at your best friend and goddaughter together.

“Isn’t she?” Sydney completely agrees as she finally gets to hold her newborn daughter. Completely in awe of how perfect she is.

The room is practically full of the sound of smiling, whatever that really is, but you end up half-laughing under your breath and looking to Marcus with fresh water behind your eyes. "I want one too," you laugh, overwhelmed with absolute joy and love.

He laughs at your eagerness, the yearning and knows that you are only partially joking. “I don’t know if we could top how perfect she is.” He admits with his own chuckle.

"Maybe not." The only possible place for you to be right now is snuggled into his side and you tuck yourself in there to just stare at your goddaughter together. "We can't know until we try, though."

Sydney spares a glance at Marcus, who nods as he holds you close. “We have to get through a few other things first.” He reminds you.

"I know." You hum when he presses a kiss to the top of your head and sigh again. "I just love her so much and I wanna give her everything. Including playmates."

Sydney coos at Constance and cuddles her closer. “Birdie, would you get me her baby blanket?” She asks softly. “From her bag? I want her in the things we picked out.”

"Yeah, of course!" You hop to immediately, slipping out of Marcus's arms to go to the bag Sydney packed. The baby blanket from Sydney's parents is folded near the top. It's a light thing, a beautiful hand knitted piece done in their chosen color of green and then embroidered with the initials CMB for Constance Marie Badillo.

The blanket slips a little in your hand when you pick it up, and when you go to right it a small but weighty something falls out from the center. The realization that it's probably something that Juan tucked away as a surprise for Sydney has you tucking it back inside quickly and handing over the blanket like you're suddenly holding a hot potato.

Sydney hadn’t been expecting you to hand over the blanket so fast so she pushes towards you again for a moment. “Hold it please.” She requests, knowing you will do anything. She has to give Marcus time to get into position.

"Of course," you agree again, bobbing your head on a nod. Glancing over at Juan makes you wonder if you should do something to help, like opening up the blanket so she can see the little jewelry box or something. Maybe hold it sort of presentationally? You can't quite make up your mind and end up clutching the blanket to your chest in surprise when you hear Marcus clear his throat and whirl around to see him down on one knee in the middle of the little hospital room.

That jewelry box was definitely not for Sydney...

“Before you panic, I have the happy new parent’s permission.” Marcus promises as he reaches for the hand that is not clutching the blanket protectively. “And today is a celebration. Of life, and love.” He tells you softly.

"Oh my god." It's just about all you can think to say as you choke on a fresh round of tears and tighten your fingers in his hand.

“I know.” Marcus flashes you a grin. “Sweetheart, there is no one else I want by my side, confiding in, planning for the future and sharing part of my soul with.” He promises you. “I love everything about you and there is not one thing that I could possibly imagine changing. I love your loyalty to friends and family, your work ethic and your tenacity. Your tender heart and your penchant for dreaming.” He takes a big breath, clearly saying your full name. “Will you marry me?”

He can barely finish the question before your thick, cracking voice is chirping endless yeses. Before you're crumpling to your knees to kiss him, cradling the blanket between you as delicately as if the baby was already wrapped in it. "I love you" gets mixed in with all the "Yes!" and more "Oh my god" as if you can't quite believe that it's finally happening. From the moment that the two of you individually became a unit, you've both known that this was the direction you were heading in. But now that you're here? It feels even better than you could ever have guessed.

He knew your answer, he’s known it, but he still giggles in relief and cupping your cheek to kiss you. “I love you.” He promises softly, pecking your lips again and again. He hears both Juan and Sydney sniffling happily and knows this was the right call.

For a moment the room is just happy tears and sniffles and giggling, and you’re both so jittery that you get a little mixed up in retrieving the ring box from deep inside the handmade baby blanket in your arms. Marcus had said he bought your promise and engagement rings together so they would match and of course his decision is perfect — the haloed diamond stands out over heart shaped stones of the promise ring he gave you months ago, and the fact that they’re from him makes them so perfect you could just fall apart right here in his arm.

“It was.” He admits with a modest tilt of his head. “But I think that this might be even better. “Your best friend and goddaughter got to witness it.”

“And your best friend too.” No one who ever ran into Marcus and Juan now would think they had spent so many years apart. They’re more likely to be mistaken for twins than anything else, and actually had been on a dinner out a few weeks ago.

“It makes it better than anything else.” He nods in agreement, looking over at your friends. “We are friends and family.”

“Matron of honor and best man?” It’s hardly a question, but Marcus has slipped the beautifully shimmering engagement ring onto your finger and you glance back over at your tearful friends with absolute joy. “And the tiniest, sweetest, most perfect little flower girl in the whole world?”

“The perfect flower girl.” Marcus agrees with his own emotional chuckle. “And of course they are our matron of honor and best man. What else could they possibly be?”

“Your caterer.” Syd half-complains with a pout, but it’s so half-hearted that she just ends up laughing through the tears. “Get over here and let us hug you two, and meet your goddaughter up close. Obviously we’re going to be whatever you want us to be. All three of us.”

“Not going to happen.” Marcus snorts, shooting Sydney a smile. “You’re going to participate in the reception. But…” he shrugs. “We will let you create our menu.”

“Here we go.” Juan teases, gently taking the baby blanket out of your arms to wrap up his daughter with the already precious heirloom. “Breakfast and wedding planning.” He grins down at Sydney. “I’ll get your notebook and take notes. You focus on our angel.”

Marcus laughs because he knows that’s exactly what will happen. Although there might be a little more cooing over the baby than anything else going on. As it is, he can’t wait to get his hands on her.

“I already know what wedding cake you want.” Syd grins, readjusting in her seat so this conversation can include food for everyone, including little Constance. She’s already gotten her little girl to latch once without a hellish amount of trouble so she’s hoping to do it on her own this time.

There has already been plenty of conversation about Sydney breastfeeding, but Marcus busies himself with his bag while she gets her daughter situated. It’s not because he’s weirded out, just a respect thing, giving the new mother time to get used to being exposed without feeling like she’s in a fishbowl.

“I’m covered,” Sydney assures him, after a few minutes of fussing where Marcus does anything but look directly at her. His respect level is top notch and she appreciates that about him. “Let’s talk food, please? And—” Before she can even ask, Juan is handing her a cup of water and she melts and murmurs a quiet “Thank you.”

“I just wanted to give you some time.” Marcus joins the small group, sitting down when you stand up and pulling you into his lap while Juan sits on the bed with his wife and child. “So right off the bat, what’s your first ideas?” He’s smart enough to know the final menu will be completely different from the first one.

“Americana.” You and Sydney grin at each other and you lean back in Marcus’s lap to sip your coffee while you talk. “Updated versions of classic American dishes.”

“What would that look like?” He asks, frowning in confusion. “Meat loaf?”

“Could be.” Sydney nods. “It could be things like gourmet versions of tv dinners.”

“Or it could be modern versions of older popular dishes,” you nod in agreement. “Like upscale Steak Diane or deconstructed chicken pot pie.”

“Finger foods?” Marcus asks. “I’m sure there will have to be a buffet of canapés.”

“Depends on the events.” Smiling around a sip of iced coffee, you press a kiss to Marcus’s temple a second later. “I’m thinking four.”

“Four events?” Marcus chuckles. “That’s bachelorette party, bridal shower, rehearsal dinner and wedding?”

“Maybe five,” you admit with a sheepish grin. “You said you wanted to have an engagement party.”

“I think that it’s a good place for the publicity your mom wants.” He reminds you.

“Five events is a lot, but if we space them out I think we can manage it.” Looking down at him with an absolute glow on your face, your brand new engagement ring catches the light and makes your chest swell. “What season do you want to get married in?”

“Any one you want.” It’s fair in his mind, he’s been married before and all that matters to him is that you repeat your vows in front of friends and family. What the weather is like doesn’t matter a lick to him. “I guess it depends on how fast we can get it planned?”

“Don’t do less than six months,” Juan warns. His cousin had rushed things to disastrous consequences.

“I wouldn’t.” You can totally agree to that. “My impulse would be to say a year but…I’ve kind of always liked the idea of a summer wedding.” Chewing on the idea, you turn your eyes back down to Marcus again. “Roses stop blooming at the end of the summer.”

“Early fall?” He suggests. “October? It gives us seven months. And you will more than likely have White House help.” He shrugs. “Along with mine, of course.”

“If we did October, maybe I can do a summer bridal shower in the White House rose garden?” Your eyes widen, practically begging. “I would really love to use the rose garden.”

“Then you better make sure your mom doesn’t book it for a tea party.” He teases with a wink, reaching for your hand that now holds his engagement ring. “I think October is perfect. Hell, we could do a Halloween rehearsal dinner.” He jokes.

“Don’t even tease me about that,” you huff. A Halloween event would be exactly your style. “Halloween next year is on a Wednesday, otherwise I would be begging you to get married on Halloween.”

“Baby, if that’s what you want….” He shoots Juan a grin and shrugs. “I’m okay with that.”

“I don’t want to get married on a Wednesday night.” No one parties deep into a Wednesday night in their thirties. It doesn’t feel as special to you. “How about we get married earlier in October and I talk you into visiting the Paris catacombs with me on Halloween night during our honeymoon?”

“That works for me just as easily as anything else.” Marcus promises. “Only thing I care about is you and I celebrating our love and making a public commitment to each other.”

“I love you, too.” If it were just the two of you, you would be getting dressed to run off to a soulmate chapel immediately. But promises have been made and they need to be honored, and every chance to declare your love for Marcus loud and clear is worth taking. “Any Pike family traditions we should keep in mind that I don’t know about already?”

Marcus smiles. “There’s a jewelry set that is passed down to be used in the wedding, if wanted.” He adds. “It was my great, great grandmother’s.”

“Really?” Your expression softens immediately, eyes widening a little, and you nod right away. There is no question in your mind that you’re going to wear it. “Your Mom swore to pass down some family recipes after the wedding but she never mentioned heirlooms.”

“It’s only ever offered after the engagement.” He explains. “We had a certain cousin’s wife - I’m sure you can guess who - think that it was for her to keep.”

When Sydney and Juan look equal parts amused and confused, you snicker slightly. “Hannah has very interesting thoughts about the family,” you tell them, glossing over the few less than kind things Hannah Pike had said either to you or that had been relayed to you. “Which reminds me. I’m absolutely going to ask Selena to be a bridesmaid.”

“Sydney, you will love her.” Marcus promises. “She’ll be flying out every other weekend to help you plan.” He warns you. “Or just staying out here, she can work from anywhere.”

“She’s been thinking about moving,” you admit, barely biting back a grin at how much fun it would be to have her nearby permanently. Marcus’s cousin has become one of your closest friends in the months since your first visit to Texas. “She said she wants to come see what winter is like here to make sure it’s not too bad, but her office is opening a DC branch and asked her if she would be interested in heading up the new team out here.”

“How do you know that and I don’t?” He asks, putting on a faux pout.

“Because she hasn’t told your aunt and uncle yet and she didn’t want it to get back to the family.” That grin of yours becomes full force and you kiss his temple again. “She was trying to save you from having to lie if you got asked.”

“Well, then, you didn’t say anything to me.” He mimes zipping his lips and locking them to throw away the key.

"Probably a good policy," you agree, snickering quietly even as you squeeze his shoulders tightly.

There’s a sense of lazy content in the room. Everyone slowly savors the baked goods that Marcus had brought and sips their coffee. The baby, Constance, is the noisiest of them all, her hungry sucking and grasping one that makes all the adults smile as they look at her every thirty seconds.

She is Sydney’s entire focus, and when the baby is done with her own breakfast there is a little fuss over making sure she’s burped properly before she cuddles up against her mother’s chest to have a post-meal nap. Something that makes Sydney sigh in relief and hold her close. “You’d never know how bad last night almost was by looking at her.”

“Children are resilient.” Marcus muses. “She will never remember her birth and be completely unaffected by it, while it will stay with us forever.”

“All the better.” Sydney soothes one hand over her sleeping daughter’s back.

Marcus watches the loving gesture, almost aching for the time where he can watch you soothe the children you will have together. Will you look as much like Madonna and Child like Sydney does now? He thinks it will be even more profound like undoubtedly Juan feels like it is.

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon   @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04 @weho2kcmo @madnessofadaydreamer

HHL: @haileymorelikestupid @anoverwhelmingdin @storiesofthefandomlovers @missladym1981 @babeincolor @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

My Masterlist!

[whatthetumblfck]

That’s My Girl

Summary: You want nothing more than to go on missions, but being sidelined leads to disastrous consequences.

Word Count: 5810

Warnings: swearing, torture, injuries, whump, whump, whump

Content: This is another Bucky x reader whump fic. Some angst, some fluff if you look hard enough. Use of Y/N.

Please don’t claim my work as your own. Enjoy!

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. You stiffened in your seat, your body becoming tense with anger. So, this is why they called you into a last-minute meeting.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” You shifted your gaze from the table up to where Steve and Tony were standing. You suddenly felt like a child that had been sent to the principal’s office. You were being punished. You stared at them awkwardly, almost waiting for them to break and tell you this was just a joke. But the silence continued.

Steve averted his eyes first. “Y/N, you’re still healing.  We don’t think it’s safe for you to be--.”

“The doctor cleared me for active-duty last week, Steve!” You almost felt bad for yelling, but this was completely unfair.

“I know, but we can’t ri--.”

“No, Steve! I’m going on this mission!” You said decisively, even though you knew you were losing the argument.

“I’m sorry, kid.” Tony chimed in. “But you’re benched for now. Wanda and Clint are handling this one.”

You opened your mouth to press your case, but quickly closed it. There was no changing their minds, especially Tony’s. You pushed your chair back from the table with both hands and stood abruptly.

You took a deep breath to compose yourself, wiping all emotion from your face and voice. “Fine.” You gave them each one last look before turning and walking quickly out of the meeting room.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

You made your way back to your room and slammed the door shut. You can't believe they're doing this to you. You were dressed in your tactical gear, literally about to leave for the mission and then they pull this shit. You changed out of your tac suit and into a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt. They may be able to stop you from going on missions, but they can’t stop you from training.  You heard a gentle knock on your door. Trying to pull on your sneakers, you hobbled over to the door and opened it, surprised to see Bucky standing there, leaning against the frame with one arm. He brought his gaze from the floor and a gentle, lopsided grin appeared on his face as his eyes met yours.

“Hey…” He entered the room, eyes taking in your appearance.

“Hey. Since when do you knock?” You replied, defeat becoming apparent in your voice.

He shrugged. “How did the meeting go?”

“They’re fucking ‘benching’ me.” You were trying hard to keep your emotions in check.

“For how long?” Bucky asked.

“I don’t know. They didn’t say.” You said, starting to feel completely dejected.

Bucky stepped closer to you, brushing a few lose strands of hair out of your face. “Maybe it’s for the best. It has only been 6 weeks. This gives you a little more time to heal.”

“Bucky! I’m fine! The doctor cleared me last week!”

“Y/N, sweetheart, you took a major hit to your head—”

“I know, Bucky, but I’m fine!”

“You were unconscious for 2 days!” Bucky threw his hands in the air for emphasis.

“I can’t believe you’re taking their side on this!” Your anger started bubbling to the surface.

“I’m not taking anyone’s side.” Bucky tried to bargain. “You’re not ready yet. Just a few days ago, you barely bumped your head while we were sparring and ended up with a migraine!”

You paused, staring at him in disbelief, finally understanding. “Oh my God. You’re the one who’s benching me,” you accused.

“Y/N….”

“You’re the one who told them I’m not ready! How could you do this?! You know how much this means to me—how hard it’s been sitting on the sidelines, mission after mission! Feeling completely useless!” You were screaming now, your anger forcing tears into your eyes.

“I know going on missions means a lot to you, but your health and safety are far more important. I can’t stand the thought of something happening to you, especially because you went back into the field too soon. I love you. You mean everything to me.” Bucky reached out to take your hands in his, but you pulled away, backing away towards the door. You shook your head at him, tears now streaming down your cheeks.

“If that were true, you would believe me when I tell you that I’m fine. You would give me a chance to prove myself. You wouldn’t try to take this away from me.” You grabbed your coat and purse, turning back towards the door. You felt his hand grab your wrist as you reached for the doorknob. “Let me go, Bucky.” You demanded without looking at him.

“Where are you going?” He sighed, sounding exhausted.

“None of your damn business. Let me go.” You ripped your arm from his grasp, and he let you.

“Y/N, please don’t leave.”

You barely heard him as you slammed the door in his face.

It was getting colder, and the dry fall air nipped at the exposed skin of your face. You flipped up your collar and shoved your hands into the pockets of your coat. You had been wandering the streets of New York for a few hours now, fruitlessly trying to clear your head. Even though your anger had dimmed, you couldn’t shake the lingering feeling of your own worthlessness, and you couldn’t bring yourself to go back to the tower, to your home, and face Bucky.

As you continued to walk, you allowed your thoughts to take you to the past. Every once in a while, they liked to remind you of your insecurities; reopen old wounds and rub salt in them. It wasn’t like your parents ever abused you. You always had clean clothes and food on the table, but they weren’t the most supportive people on the planet. Nothing you ever did was good enough. It didn’t matter how hard you worked or how perfect your grades were in school; it would never be enough to earn a simple ‘good job’ and certainly not a ‘we’re proud of you’. But there were occasions when you would forget to do the dishes or sweep the floors before they got home from work, and they would call you ‘worthless’ and ‘good for nothing’. They were simple words and if they came from anyone other than your parents, you would simply let them roll off your back. But you were born and raised with the mindset of pleasing them. As you grew up and moved away from them to go to college, you slowly learned how to place value in yourself and not at the hands of others. But sometimes, no matter how hard you tried to avoid it, you couldn’t help feeling like you weren’t good enough. Worthless.

You couldn’t help feeling that same worthlessness for the past 6 weeks following your injury. You were very fortunate not to have any lasting neurological damage after taking a significant blow to the back of your head. You barely remember what happened, but apparently you were outnumbered in your section of the base and Bucky couldn’t get to you in time. You became overwhelmed in the fight, and a random HYDRA thug got the upper hand and threw you off your feet, forcing your head to collide with a cinder block.  The story is barely glorious, and the goon wasn’t even a super-soldier. When Bucky recounted the events for you, you remember thinking: if you were going to almost meet your untimely demise, you would at least want a cooler story to go along with it. He wasn’t amused.

As your thoughts circled back to Bucky, you felt anger again, and something else you now identified as betrayal. It was terrible knowing that Steve and Tony didn’t trust you to go on missions anymore, but even worse was that Bucky didn’t either. He didn’t think you were capable after the events of the last mission. How are you supposed to get past this? This is your job, your life. If you can’t do this, then what good are you for anything? You pulled out your phone to find 6 missed calls and 5 text messages, all from Bucky. Choosing to ignore them, you texted your friend instead. She had always offered her apartment to you if you needed it and she often traveled for work. This seemed like a perfect opportunity to take her up on her offer.

It was only 6:30pm, but it was already dark outside when you slid the spare key into the lock of your friend’s apartment. You were greeted with silence and the soft glow of city lights peeking through the curtains. For the first time that evening, you felt like you could take a deep breath.  You helped yourself to a glass of wine (or two) and settled in front of the TV, searching for the first thing you could find that would sufficiently keep your mind off of things.

It wasn’t quite 7:30pm when you heard an urgent knock at the door. What in the actual fuck? Your friend lives alone and is hardly ever home. Who randomly shows up like that? (Except for you, of course) Being a paranoid person by nature and profession, you stealthily moved from the couch and approached the door. You didn’t have a sidearm due to your hasty and unplanned departure from the tower earlier. You mentally cursed at yourself but proceeded to look through the peephole. Steve?

A look of clear annoyance and partial disbelief washes over your face as you open the door.

“What are you doing here, Steve?”

“We have been looking for you for hours.” He almost seems apologetic but mostly relieved.

“We?” You shift your focus to peer behind him, seeing no one else.

“Bucky and me. He’s not here. He’s checking that bar across town you like to go to.”

“How did you even know to look here?” You said, crossing your arms without spilling your wine.

Steve looks guilty now. “Well…uh…SHIELD kept records of all your contacts….”

You were confused now and narrowed your eyes at him. “I never listed this friend or location as a contact…”

“Yeah….” Steve trailed off, scratching his head, hoping you would connect the dots and he wouldn’t have to say it.

“Jesus Christ. So, what? They have agents tracking agents now? Why the fuck—how do—” You were at a loss for words and wanted nothing more than to end this conversation quickly and get back to your solitude.

“Look, Y/N, I’m sorry about earlier, but Bucky has a point. If you’re still having headaches, you should see the doctor again. It would be in your best interest if—”

“It would be in my best interest,” you began, gritting your teeth, “if you left. Tell Bucky you found me and I’m fine. Both of you can go home.”

He sighed in defeat. “Okay. Okay. Just…be safe. He just worries about you, you know; we all do. And I can’t guarantee that he won’t show up here.” He gives you a tight-lipped smile.

You moved to close the door. “Good night, Steve.”

Approximately 45 minutes later, just when you thought you were in the clear, you hear another knock on the door. This time, it was gentler. Bucky. You rise from the couch, wine glass in hand, foregoing the stealth and paranoia you employed earlier. You fling the door open, fully prepared to tell Bucky off, but you can’t. He isn’t here. Instead, you’re met with a fist flying towards your face. It happened so fast; you didn’t have time to react.

The fist angrily makes contact with your mouth, splitting your bottom lip and knocking you to the ground several feet back. The wine glass shatters on the floor, splattering its contents. You’re stunned and can’t seem to make yourself move. It feels like your mind is running in slow motion and you can’t keep up with the events happening around you. Your vision catches a large, dark figure moving towards you and, suddenly, you’re back up to speed. You spit out the blood that was pooling in your mouth and wiped your chin with the back of your hand. Glaring at the figure approaching you, you prepare to defend yourself this time. You pull up your knee, priming yourself to deliver a kick, when you feel someone else grab a fistful of your hair from behind you. What the fuck? How did I miss a second attacker? You’re jerked up by your hair until you’re barely on your feet before feeling your body being hurled across the room, your abdomen slamming into the corner of a coffee table. The pain exploding from your mid-section is making it harder for you to right yourself. You barely have time to wonder who the hell these guys are and what the hell they want before you feel the familiar sting of that fist in your hair, once again pulling you to your feet. This time he brings your face close to his. His hot breath invades your nostrils, almost making you gag. It only gets worse when he speaks.

“Fucking Avenger? My ass. This is too fucking easy.”

So, you were targeted. That was your last thought before your face struck the wall and everything went dark.

 It was 9:30pm. Bucky had debated going to the apartment to see you. He knew where you were and that you were safe. He kept telling himself that you just needed some time to calm down. But he hated not having you there with him, especially when you were upset. His resolve broke and he needed to see you.

As he approached the door to the apartment, he noticed it wasn’t completely closed, leaving a few millimeters of space before it would have clicked shut.

“Y/N?” he asked cautiously before slowly pushing the door open and peering inside.

It was dark, but the TV was still on. He stepped forward and froze when something crunched beneath his boot. Panic rose in his chest when he saw the broken remnants of your wine glass. Crouching down, his eyes scanned the floor until they landed on something much more terrifying. Blood.

“Y/N?” he tried again, praying you would answer. When you didn’t, he leapt to his feet and began frantically searching the apartment for you. You weren’t there. The only indication you were actually there was your purse and your cell phone untouched on the couch. Fuck. FUCK! His thoughts were racing. What happened? Where were you? This couldn’t have been a robbery gone wrong because everything else is untouched, including your purse and phone. You must have been a target, but for whom? And why? Who else could have possibly known you would be there? Bucky whips his head towards the kitchen when he hears paper rustling. A breeze. The window is open, and, in his panic, he hadn’t noticed. As he cautiously approached the window, he cringes as he sees more blood smeared on the windowsill. Bucky swallows hard, pushing down the bile that had risen in his throat. Suddenly, his phone rings, startling him.

“Steve…she’s gone.”

“I know. Buck…you need to get back to the tower. Now.”

“What?” How could he possibly—

“There’s something you need to see.”

 Bucky felt sick. Again. Tony pulled up a holographic view of the video, showing you in an empty room made of concrete. You sat in a chair with your hands tied behind your back. Your hair, messy and damp, hung down in front, obscuring your face. As the video played, everyone was silent. They didn’t know what to say. They couldn’t even tell if you were alive. But you had to be, right? They wouldn’t have sent a video if you weren’t. They wanted something.

Steve broke the silence. “So, what do they want? Is there anything else to the message?”

“No, that’s it. Just this video. No demands. Nothing.” Tony said, nervously tapped his fingers on the table.

“We have to find her.” Bucky finally spoke. He sounded distant, detached. His knuckles were white from clenching his fists. “Tony, can you check footage from traffic cams? Local businesses?”

“I already have FRIDAY on it,” he replied. And as if she were responding to a cue, she alerted them to her findings.

“Boss, I believe I may have found Miss Y/L/N’s location.”

They all rushed to the location FRIDAY had indicated, but you weren’t there.

 The first thing you noticed was the sound of water dripping. The steady rhythm was soothing, almost enough to lull you back to sleep, but the cold biting at your bare feet brought you all the way back to consciousness. Your eyelids were heavy as you tried to look around the unfamiliar surroundings. It was dark, but you could tell the walls were concrete and the air smelled damp and musty. It reminded you of an old dirt basement. What the hell? You struggled to remember what happened. Your head was pounding, and you couldn’t think straight, couldn’t remember…anything about how you got here. There was a metallic taste in your mouth, and you squeezed your eyes shut, fighting off a sudden swell of nausea.

The sound of footsteps brought your attention to your right. A sudden bright light assaulted your eyes, your head feeling like it was splitting open. Shadows violently danced around the room as a single light bulb was switched on, swinging back and forth over your head. It was too much. You twisted your body, fighting against the restraints that held you to the chair, and emptied the contents of your stomach onto the floor.

“It’s nice to see you’re awake, Y/N.” The foreign voice echoed in the empty room.

Your chest heaved as you tried to recover your dignity. You now noticed the pair of boots standing next to you and wondered how long they had been there. “Who the fuck are you?”

“My name isn’t important. We are one. We are everywhere. Cut off one—”

“Yeah yeah, I’ve heard this before and I don’t care. What the fuck do you want?”

Then you heard a noise cut through the air and you knew exactly what it was: the static crackling of electricity from a stun gun. Fuck. Oh fuck. You tried to maintain your bravado, but your stomach squirmed in anticipation of the pain to come.

You forced yourself to relax your facial expression. “Torture? That’s it? That’s your game plan? Because I’m going to be honest with you, it’s been done before and if you think—”

“I WANT YOU TO SUFFER! Every. Single. One of you. They’re going to watch you die. And after they’ve buried you, I’ll move on to the next. One by one until all the Avengers are dead.”

You fought back a chill and then heard a click. Turning your head, you saw a blinking red light in the corner. How long have those bastards been recording you? The door opened and three burly men entered, encompassing you, awaiting the signal to begin.

You shut your eyes and tried to steady your breathing. You were no stranger to pain. This wasn’t even the first time you’ve been tortured. You can handle this. They will find you. You can handle this. You can handle this. You can ha—

Your mantra was interrupted by a sudden burning pain in your stomach as the stun gun was jammed into your ribs. It stole your breath away as your body convulsed. It stopped only long enough for you to take a breath before it started again. This time lasting longer. Your stomach lurched at the smell of your flesh burning.  They shocked you repeatedly; you lost count how many times. The burning pain became unbearable. You could barely catch your breath and dark spots began to coat your vision like splotches of ink until they overcame you completely and the pain faded into the background.

You awoke again some time later. You couldn’t tell if it was night or day. If it had been hours or days or weeks. You honestly didn’t know. What you did know is that you were cold and tired and in pain. Why weren’t they coming for you? Did they even know you were missing? Why would they? You told them to leave you alone and now look where you are. The flashing red light in the corner caught your attention again. Could they see you now? Or would they only know what happened after they had already killed you?  Your reverie was broken by the sounds of whispers just outside the door. A shiver ran up your spine and you braced yourself as best you could when the door swung open.

The onslaught began quickly this time, with no words being exchanged. The first blow landed on your stomach, knocking the wind out of you. More blows landed on your arms, thighs, and face. Your head hung weakly. You could barely comprehend the pain and yet it was all you knew. This was different from any other torture you’ve ever endured. They didn’t want information. They didn’t want anything other than pain and suffering and death. You felt yourself slipping into unconsciousness again; you welcomed the reprieve, but suddenly there was a new pain. The sharp pain of a knife sliding under your ribs, and it made you gasp. You wanted to scream but you couldn’t. No sound would come out as you opened your mouth, the pain stole the air from your lungs.

When they felt they had sufficiently beat you into a weakened enough state, they cut the ties that bound you to the chair and you hit the ground with a sickening thud. Your hands immediately found their way to the stab wound that was already trickling blood into your shirt. You pulled your knees closer to your chest in an attempt to relieve the pain and laid your head back against the cold, hard floor. Your vision swam as you looked in the direction of your attackers. You were barely holding on as it was when you saw a large boot appear in your vision. The kicked landed on the side of your head and you were out before you even realized what had happened.

 “This doesn’t make any sense. They should have given us demands or something by now. Anything!” Steve slammed his fist onto the table. It’s been 48 hours since you were taken.

“We reviewed the traffic cam footage and flagged the vehicle we think she was taken in. FRIDAY has been scanning everything in real time. When she gets a hit, she’ll let us know,” Tony offered.

Bucky didn’t say a word as he sat leaning forward in his chair, his head in his hands. He couldn’t help but assume the worst. He knew why there weren’t any demands. They already had what they wanted. He fucked up. He never should have let you leave the tower. Hell, you would have been better off going on that mission.  

Without warning, the various screens littered around the tower flickered to life. All of them playing the same video: you, being burned and beaten. Tears gathered in Bucky’s eyes. He couldn’t stand to watch you suffer, yet he couldn’t look away. You’re still alive.

Tony didn’t miss a beat. “FRIDAY, find the source, now!”

“I’ve got it, boss. It’s coming from an abandoned business warehouse, 6 blocks from here.”

Bucky shot up from his seat with renewed hope. They weren’t able to trace the last video. Someone made a mistake. This must be it. He spared one last glance at the screen; at you, strapped to the same chair as 2 days before. He rushed out of the tower with Steve at his heels.

Bucky and Steve quietly approached the back entrance, finding a steel door with a padlock. Steve broke the lock with his shield. They’re not sure what they expected, but it certainly wasn’t this. There was nothing. It was a large empty room. It wasn’t even concrete as the video had depicted. Bucky’s heart sank. It was another dead end.

“No. No no no. She has to be here,” Bucky pleaded, his eyes desperately searching the room.

“Buck….I’m sorry.” Steve put his finger to the comm in his ear. “Tony..there’s nothing here. It’s empty.”

Keep looking. We’re still getting a signal from that location. There has to be something there.

Bucky and Steve exchanged glances before surveying the area, looking for anything out of the ordinary. They were about to give up and head back to the tower when Steve took a step that sounded unusual, hollow. He kneeled down and gently tapped the floor with his knuckles. His eyes widened.

“Psstt. Buck- c’mere,” he whispered.

They were both kneeling now to examine the floor, finding a section of musty carpet that was ruffled up in one corner. They pulled back the entire section to reveal a wooden latched door with a sliver of light leaking through the cracks.

“Tony- we found something. Have medical on standby,” Steve ordered.

Already done. Keep me posted.

Bucky was breathing fast. He wanted nothing more than to rush down there, to find you and kill anyone who stood in his path. With a pointed look, Steve grounded him, and they lifted the door. They silently dropped to the floor below, taking in the cold, damp concrete and dank odor one would expect from a moldy basement. You had to be close. He prayed he wasn’t too late.

Everything happened very quickly. They were rushed by half a dozen men armed with assault rifles but even then, the guards didn’t stand a chance against the two pissed off and determined super-soldiers. With every enemy lying on the floor, Steve ordered Bucky to find you while he searched the rest of the basement.

It was a few minutes later that Bucky came across the room you were held in. With one swift motion, he kicked down the locked door. He scanned the room. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he spotted your form, eerily still, lying in the center of the room. He reached up and pulled the light on overhead, letting it swing as he dropped down next to you.

“Y/N? Come on, doll.” he reached down to rub his thumb across your lip where blood had dried and caked. You were cold. “Shit. Shit!” He gently moved you onto your back and this is when he saw the blood soaking into your shirt and leaving a puddle beneath you. His breath caught in his throat. With shaking hands, he put his fingers to the pulse point on your neck. When he felt a weak pulse, barely registering on his fingertips, he leaned down and held his ear close to your mouth. A soft whisper of a breath escaped your lips.

Bucky heard Steve’s footsteps approaching, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from you. He lifted your shirt to reveal the source of your bleeding. He pressed firmly down on the stab wound, but you didn’t even flinch. He recognized how concerning this was, how the pain from this alone should have elicited some kind of response from you, but you remained just as still as before.

“Oh God.” Steve knew you would be in bad shape, but he didn’t want to believe it would be this bad. You were so pale and still, like you were already gone. “Tony! We found her! We need EMS now!”

Already on the way, Cap. ETA 2 minutes.

Bucky scooped you up in his arms and they made their way to the surface, exiting the building to the waiting paramedics and helicopter.

 Bucky held your hand as they loaded you into the chopper and flew you to the trauma center. He heard voices around him but remained focused on you.

Looks like it missed any major vessels.

Multiple contusions across the abdomen and…these look like burns…

She’s bradycardic; give her a milligram of atropine.

Her pupils are sluggish…Prep for CT.

Sir, does she have any significant medical history?

Sir?

Bucky snapped out of his daze. “Uhh…she had a head injury…. a couple months ago. But she was cleared.”

Bucky was guided to the waiting room while the trauma team worked on you. You still hadn’t regained consciousness.

___________________________________________________________________________________

Hours had passed in the waiting room. Eventually, Bucky was joined by Steve.

“Heard anything yet?”

“No.”

A few moments passed before Steve spoke again. “It was an ex-SHIELD operative.”

“What?” Bucky turned his head to look at Steve.

“A couple of years ago, a mission went south. All the agents were killed. Except one, they never found the body. Turns out, he was captured and tortured by HYDRA.”

“I never heard about this.”

“I didn’t either. SHIELD must have swept it under the rug.”

“Why her?” Bucky’s voice shook with anger, his eyes red and glassy.

“Apparently, before he was captured, he sent a distress signal, but help never came. He adopted HYDRA’s ways with the intent of getting revenge on SHIELD, on us. He blames the Avengers for the deaths of his team.”

Bucky squeezed his eyes shut. “Where is he now?”

“In SHIELD’s custody.”

“Steve- WHERE is he?”

“Buck….you don’t want to do this.” Steve tried to reason with his friend.

Just then, they were approached by a physician.

“She’s stable. There was internal damage, but we were able to repair it.”

Bucky let out a shuddered sigh of relief.

“However,” the physician continued, “it appears she suffered a traumatic brain injury.”

Bucky’s eyes widened. He knew. Yet, hearing it out loud hit him even harder. “What- what does that mean?” He could feel Steve’s hand rest on his shoulder.

“We’re not sure yet. We’re still waiting for her to wake up.”

“How long will that take?” Desperation lingered in Bucky’s voice.

“We don’t know. We’re not sure if she will wake up. I’m sorry.” The doctor provided an apologetic smile and walked away.

Bucky collapsed back into the chair.

“Buck. I’m sorry.”

“I shouldn’t have let her leave the tower. I should have gone after her sooner. Fuck- I should have just let her go on that damn mission!”

“Don’t do that to yourself, man. This isn’t your fault.”  Steve tried to console him.

Bucky suddenly rose from his seat, pacing with panic. “I don’t know what to do, Steve. I don’t—” He finally broke down. His body trembled as tears streamed down his face.

“Let’s go see her.” Steve guided his friend to your room.

  Three weeks later and you were still in a coma. The doctors said if you weren’t awake by now, it was unlikely that you would ever wake up. But you were now breathing on your own. Your body had healed, and Bucky refused to give up on your mind. Another two weeks had passed, and Bucky still sat by your side, holding your hand. That evening, he sat by you, reading one of your favorite books to you when he heard you groan. He looked up at your face, seeing nothing had changed. He thought he had imagined it, but you did it again. He put the book down and brought his hand up to caress your face. Your eyes fluttered.

“Oh my God. Y/N? Can you hear me, baby?” He smiled for the first time in weeks.

You opened your eyes and blinked slowly several times, trying to focus.

“Y/N? Can you look at me, sweetheart?”

Your eyes immediately shifted to Bucky.

“That’s it, baby! Oh my God.” He was overwhelmed with joy. He laughed, actually laughed.

“Bucky?” Your voice was weak, words slurred. You hadn’t spoken in weeks.

“You’re okay, baby. You’re okay.”

The following day, you began physical therapy. It was exhausting, but you felt yourself getting stronger and making progress as the weeks passed.

Bucky never mentioned what happened and you never brought it up. He was so consumed with your recovery; you couldn’t find the right time to say anything about it. Until one day, your feelings just slipped out.

“I’m sorry,” you uttered, after a particularly difficult therapy session.

Bucky was genuinely confused. “For what, doll?”

“You were right. I wasn’t ready to go on missions. I’m sorry I got so mad at you. I never should have left that day.” Tears gathered in your eyes. “If I hadn’t been so damn stubborn, you wouldn’t have to waste your time with..with this!” You motioned at your weaker form.

Bucky kneeled down in front of you, wiping your tears with his thumbs.

“Sweetheart, no. This isn’t your fault. I should have talked to you about my concerns, instead of going over your head about it.”

“I just hate feeling worthless and look where I am. Steve will never let me go on another mission again.” You clenched your fists and shook your head, frustrated that you got yourself in this situation once more.

“Hey, hey. You’re okay. We’ll get through this. We always do.” Bucky embraced you, rubbing circles on your back.  “You’ll go on missions again. In fact, I think Steve is planning to personally accompany you on every single mission from here on out.”

You giggled and rolled your eyes. “Between you and Steve, I won’t have to lift a finger,” you teased.

“Nope,” Bucky grinned proudly.

Your playful smile quickly faded as cynical thoughts intruded on your pleasant moment. Now they really don’t trust me. Won’t even let me go on missions without them. But Bucky seemed to read your mind.

“Don’t worry, doll. You’ll be doing solo missions in no time. We know you’re more than capable.”

“Yeah?” you asked, with hopeful eyes.

“Of course! You kick more ass than the rest of us. But I am curious about one thing…” Bucky baited with a smirk.

“What’s that?” you asked cautiously.

“How the hell did those thugs get the jump on you?” Bucky asked, his expression incredulous.

You closed your eyes and sighed. “They knocked on the door,” you admitted as quietly as possible.

“They what?!” He was almost laughing.

“I thought it was you,” you said more loudly, almost accusingly. “I was going to tell you off.”

Bucky shook his head, a wide smile plastered on his face as he attempted to stifle more laughter. Seeing Bucky like this ignited a fire in you. You wanted to wipe that stupid grin off his face, but the joy he was emanating overtook you. Two can play this game and you liked playing this game with Bucky.

“Don’t worry, Buck. Next time I think I’m opening a door to you, I’ll take the ‘punch first, tell you off later’ approach.” Your eat-shit grin was now wider than Bucky’s.

He burst out with laughter, and you joined him.

“That’s my girl.”

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

Welcome To The Pack: To Wakanda

Summary- 7k. Steve Rogers x You. You have been injected with an unknown substance, going into a coma like state and your wolf is unable to be found by the Alpha. Bruce is also at a loss, but there may be someone who can help. Warnings- Smut, use of needles, implied bad stuff from Brock, etc etc. 

A/N- Thank you so much for the love given from everyone for this series. And also being patient with me while my internet is currently being a pain in the ass. Hope you all enjoy this chapter. Much Love always. 

A/N 2- feedback is welcome, I really do love hearing what you all think, and ways to improve. 

 Chapter 6 / Pack Masterlist

Tony had a migraine from hell, he was sitting at his desk, his head pounding for some unknown reason. 

<You do know though.> The Wolf sauntered to him, licking his jaws and arching his neck in a stretch. <Ross is breathing down your neck, Clint took off with a jet for an unknown reason, and you haven’t run with your mate in over a week. You should go to Pepper, and retire to Central Park for the day. Or leave the city. That would be even better.>

Tony sighed as he leaned back forward, rubbing at his temple as he opened the drawer and pulled out some painkillers for there kind. A headache required more than the human use of pain relievers. Shaking out a couple of tablets, he popped them, and his Wolf sighed as it pushed to a stand, shaking out his sleek fur and retreated further into Tony’s mind. 

I know your right… I miss Pepper. 

<Well she’s just a few floors down.> The Wolf snarked over his shoulder before leaping further from Tony’s current conscious. Tony pissed him off, he knew that. About to push from his desk to go see his mate, the beast wasn’t wrong in that. Or any of it. It had been too long, just before the went to Steve’s pack, since they redid their bonds, reaffirmed the strength of there mating and the bites, his body ached for hers. Immensely. The migraine resounded in his temples as a reminder.  

It was then Friday buzzed online, making an announcement. ‘Boss, A unauthorized jet approaches.’ And Tony growled even louder this time. “Is it Barton with my jet? It better be.” 

‘Yes, Sir. I’m patching him through right now.’ There was a moment of silence, then a whoosh sound. “Barton? Why the fuck you take my jet? It better be in one piece.” Tony said loud enough for it to go through, and he could hear Barton chuckle on the other end. 

“Nat called me that there was some trouble going down Stark. You out of anyone know that I’m going to go if my Alpha needs me.” Tony snorted, although he knew it was true. Rogers probably didn’t know just how deep his packs loyalties lay for him. Barton’s voice broke through again, following Tony as he left the office and headed up to the top of the tower. “Steve’s with me, as well as Bucky, Natasha, and Y/N. Y/N is in bad shape, Tony. Steve needs your help.” 

Tony stalled his strides, just before he approached the elevators, frowning. The Alpha of the Mountain Pack needed help? That had never happened. “Care to repeat that Barton?” 

“Tony? It’s Steve.” The Alphas voice came over, and Tony couldn’t lie, it sounded strained. “Y/N was shot with a dart, she was in immense pain, claimed she couldn’t feel her wolf, and now she won’t wake up.” Even Tony’s Wolf came striding back to the more conscious part of his mind, the Alpha pinning his ears back in distress at the other Mans admission. “I don’t know anywhere else that might have the capability to help her.” 

Tony punched the button to the elevator, and instead of going up to meet them, he was going to the next level. “Bring her to Bruce’s Lab, Barton and Nat know where it is. I will meet you down there.” Once the doors opened, he stepped on, and the door swiftly shut behind him, descending. 

Barton landed the jet, and opened the hatch, shutting off all the switches in quick maneuvers. Steve collected You, pressing you protectively against his chest as he followed Natasha out of the jet, and she got them into the towers once she hit her security code. Steve’s face melded from worried to calm, collected. He was in another Alphas territory, and any sign of stress from him could invite a challenge from another wolf. His fingers though, they pressed into your skin, his heart thudded in his chest, aching with every beat, constantly seeking you, and now that he could feel you against him, his breathing turned to match yours, the way his heart racing started to slow. Even in this state, you were his calm. Now if only he could bring you back to him. His Wolf was still howling for you, an echo constantly in his mind as he sought your Little Wolf. Even without the bond, he still could sense her when they were human. Now the Silver Wolf couldn’t, and it was breaking the Alpha. 

Once the doors opened, Tony and Bruce stood there, a hospital stretcher ready, but Steve brushed past it, not wanting to let you go. Bruce was about to say something, but Natasha rested her hand against his arm, giving a slight shake of her head. Steve was already close to snapping, its best not to push him. His words changed, tilting his head to the man. “This way, we have a room set up for her.” Pushing the stretcher to the side, they all followed along with Bruce, and came into a comfortable looking room. A large hospital bed was set up, and Steve was careful to set you down on the pristine white cotton sheets. Bruce waited patiently for Steve to settle next to his mate before he approached. Holding his hands up for the Alpha to see him, lowering his head a bit to show his neck. “I promise not to do any harm to your mate Alpha, but you have to trust me, okay. I have to examine her and that will require me touching her.” 

Steve Wolf growled, eyeing the man, and Steve to drew in Bruce’s scent, it was an intermingling of differences that shouldn’t exist in their society. But it did.

Bruce’s condition was well known, why he was loosely tied to Tonys Pack. Tony was one of the only packs that could help Bruce. The Man, he wasn’t an Alpha, gentle to the core, nothing more than a healer and had no drive to really be with a pack. His Wolf though, a Alpha through and through. And not just an Alpha, but a beast unnatural. He had been mutated through an accidental experiment, and it left Bruce almost unable to control him. Tony provided him with space, still in a pack, yet able to work on his own. Steve took all this information into account when he gave a gentle nod, giving him permission to handle you. That nod set Bruce into action, calling forth a nurse, and they worked around Steve, who wouldn’t leave your side, his hands enclosed around yours, keeping contact with yours. 

Come back to me Little One. 

     Bucky gathered the two panther cubs in his arms, the kittens have come around to him during the jet ride. One slept in the crook of one arm, the other perched on the White Wolf’s shoulder, squeaking in excitement at all that was going on. Barton followed him off, and they to enter the Tower, heading straight to Bruce’s lab. Once they exited the elevators, they caught sight of Natasha and Tony, looking through a window into a room, both men could hear Natasha filling Tony in on what had happened that night. Hearing them, Tony looked at gaffed a laugh at the sight. 

“Barnes looks like you got some stowaways.” Tony grinned, and Bucky shifted the sleeping kitten to his other arm. 

“Pierce, had them locked up, figured maybe you could get them back to there families?” Bucky asked hopefully, knowing that the Black Panthers didn’t typically reside in the northern forests of the eastern part of the states. 

“I don’t think that should be a problem,” Tony stated with a nod, his sight catching Pepper coming to join them, and as she approached, he held his arm out to her, and she slid into his side just where she always did, listening as he continued. “King T’Challa had actually contacted me about his missing Panthers a couple of weeks ago. He will be pleased to get back the children taken. Uh… you didn’t happen to see any adult panthers there?” 

Bucky gave a sorrowed shake of his head as the awake kitten perched on his shoulder wailed softly, and Pepper immediately crooned to him, holding out her arms for the kitten to leap into the woman’s arms, hiding against her for comfort. Tony cleared his throat, getting his answer. 

“These Cubs need to be fed, and allowed to shift back.” Pepper said softly as she stroked the distraught kitten fur. “I can take them to go shift, get a proper meal and rest while you all arrange the flight home for them.” she offered and Bucky nodded, handing the sleeping kitten over. She tilted to kiss Tony’s cheek before retreating with them, speaking softly. “Get to go home soon, how does that sound to you two?” A sounding high pitched meow reached the group’s ears. 

Turning to watch Bruce work on You, Bucky wasn’t surprised to see Steve right there, refusing to leave her side. “First off, what the fuck did he shoot Y/N with, and how did that son of a bitch get Panther cubs?” 

“That’s what Bruce is trying to find out now, and the panther cubs… I’m guessing someone smuggled them out of the country. Which means I have a King to contact. Natasha, you know this place, whenever Steve is ready, you can show him the live-in quarters, you to Barnes.” 

“Thanks, Stark” The White Wolf opened his hand to shake it, which was evenly matched before he turned away. Once they were alone, just Bucky, Clint, and Natasha, Bucky spoke up. “I can’t stay, Rumlow still has Cass. Now that Pierce is dead… I have to find her quickly.” 

Barton and Natasha looked at each other, knowing neither one of these Wolves could be left alone. 

“How about I come with you, Barnes? We can pick up where the trackers are now. This is what I’m trained to do.” Barton shrugged. “I also got transportation here for us, and Stark cant bitch about me taking it.” 

“And I will stay with Steve and Y/N, keep you updated on what is going on.” Natasha offered, knowing Barnes was hard-pressed to leave there Alpha. 

“Thank you two…” Barnes said softly, his gaze not breaking from the scene in the next room. 

     Steve was thrumming his thumb over your pulse, which was so calm, it was like you were sleeping. Bruce had drawn blood, had you hooked to monitors that beeped excessively. They were driving Steve and his Wolf nuts trying to make sense of what the numbers all meant. Luckily the scientist did, as well as the nurse assisting him, but neither said if it was good or bad, just an occasional ‘Hmm’ 

<Make them tell us Steve, I can’t handle this any longer. When is our Little One waking up, will she wake up? What is going on.>

Patience Beast. 

<I’m trying Steve> The Silver Wolf responded with a defeated sigh. 

“Alpha?” Bruce started but Steve immediately cut him off. 

“Please, its Steve.” He warily smiled, the adrenaline from the night had finally left him, the usually proud Alpha just look beat and tired now, sitting on the bed. 

“Steve, we’ve checked her over, and from what we can tell, she is okay. In the Human Sense. Her pressures are good, shes breathing, there is still functions of her brain. I have no fear that her body can’t function. From what I can tell… shes simply shut herself down from the trauma.  As far as her Wolf, we can’t find any trace of her in her system. None of the scans picked her up.” It was impossible to miss the whine that came from the Alpha and how his eyes clouded over a moment, but Bruce ignored it, continuing. “I might not be the man for this Steve, but… You said she was injected. I was able to isolate the compound in her bloodwork. Now I can’t be certain, but it seems to be biological. I don’t necessarily know for sure, but there is a plant that might be used for this kind of thing.” 

Steve’s head shot up, his eyes wide. “Where is it, and is there a cure Dr.Banner?” The Wolf perked up too, his ears straining to hear Bruce’s next words. 

“The plant only originates in one place, Wakanda. And Wakanda has one of the most brilliant scientific minds I know of. Her name is Shuri, the Kings sister. She would know more about the plants capabilities then I can begin to understand. They use it in a few rituals when appointing the new king. It diminishes there powers, sedates there beasts almost into a slumbering state so that they can prove that the person can lead their people as much as the animal.” Bruce witnessed Steve turning back to look at You, his eyes willing you to wake up, but there was no movement from you. “Would to much kill the animal you think Doctor?” 

“I really can’t say Steve, I simply don’t know enough about it. It’s not something we have here, and the Wakanda people guard their crops fiercely. I wouldn’t even begin to guess how someone would have gotten there hands on such a plant. Now with how strong Wakandas borders are.” 

“I have to talk to Tony about this, but I can’t leave her.” Steve drifted off, even though you were safe, he just couldn’t pry himself from you. Natasha knocked on the door and opened it gently. 

“Let me sit with her, I will stay till you can return Steve.” She offered and the even though the Wolf protested, Steve pressed your palm to his mouth, giving a soft affectionate nip before easing your hand back to the mattress. “Thank you, Natasha.” 

The Red Head nodded, switching spots. “Shes my packmate to. Bucky is out there, Starks floor is one up, that’s where he will be.” 

With a nod, Steve took one last look at you, peaceful and small looking in the oversized bed, quick to exit the door. Wait any longer and his resolve would fold. 

Tony was once more at his desk, and the phone was ringing when a message came through from Bruce, giving him a bit of an update. Tony’s brows arched curiously at this new bit of info, that you were possibly injected with a organic matter made for this particular situation. Wonder how many other people were subjected to the same fate. A click drew him back, an accented voice speaking on the other end. “Stark, its good to hear from you.” 

“Likewise T’Challa. I might have some good news for you. Two cubs were found by a neighboring pack and brought them to me. They are young, I’m hoping they are your missing children.” Tony could hear the sharp muffle of the phone being covered and the king’s voice talking to someone before he came back. “Yes, two were taken along with there mother. No sign of the female?” 

“No… I’m sorry, Pierce might not have taken her if he bought the cubs off a smuggler, or might have already sold her off to another.” Tony didn’t want to share the wall of skins, it was just so horrific to think about. 

“Thank You, the two cubs was more then we had hoped to be able to bring home, I will notify my trackers looking through the states of this news, send them to you if you could possibly direct them to where they were found. Maybe they can pick up a trail.” 

“Absolutely. I will send the cubs back to you, just as soon as they are looked over and given a bit of proper rest. My Mate is tending to them now, and they seem to be in fairly good health. I also have something else to discuss with you King.” 

“What is it?” The Panther said softly, his tone said he was half expecting more bad news. 

“The pack that found them, the Alphas Mate was darted, and her Wolf, it’s gone. Dr.Banner isolated an organic compound in her blood that might be the cause. But this is out of his expertise. If the Alpha could bring her over with the cubs, could Shuri try to bring her back? Shes slipped into something like a coma and shows no signs of waking up, although she appears to be healthy.”

T’Challa was silent a moment before there was a rumbling answer, and Tony suspected it was distress about the Alphas Mate, it had unsettled him the same way thinking about what if that had happened to Pepper. “Of course, send the Alpha Wolf and his Mate along, we will do all we can to help them.” 

“Thank you King. I will be contacting you soon.” 

As he hung up, Steve and Bucky came into the office, and Tony swept a hand to the chairs in front of his desk, waiting till the men settled. “Before you say anything, Steve, it’s already arranged. You will be taking Y/N to Wakanda for Shuri to help her. Now, I heard what Natasha said, but you want to tell me officially. The Council will want to know.” 

Steve bared his teeth in agitation but started in on all that had happened. “I sent Bucky and Natasha to check out this pack as you know. They were immediately taken.” Bucky then took over, telling all about how he was collared, how the collar impacted his beast in chains. “It wasn’t anything like the magic of Wanda, but blood magic. Way to much power in it. And then I was to be sold off to Hydra.” Tony stayed silent listening. “Once we managed to escape, we contacted our Alpha.” 

“And that was it. I had enough to challenge Pierce. We met him on his turf, called him out. He has a whole underground facility my wolves are sorting through now with Sam in charge. After Y/N was shot, we left to get her here as soon as possible. I’m indebted to you.” Steve said solemnly, and Tony waved it away. 

“Don’t, if it was the other way around, I know you would do anything you could for Pepper, Rogers. Besides, I like Y/N, shes good. She would have been a wolf I would have welcomed to my pack should she had come to my borders easily. I will have a cleanup crew go to help Sam, so please let him know beforehand.” 

Steve nodded, but now he was anxious to return to You, not that he didn’t trust Natasha, but this wasn’t home. He wasn’t in control here, and he didn’t want to risk leaving you in an unfamiliar place. 

“I think we’re settled here, Peppers taking care of the Kits now. I will have it all set up to fly you to Wakanda in the morning Steve.” The Alphas all rose, shaking hands and with that all was said and done. 

On the way out, Bucky paused Steve. “Brother, I wish I could go with you. But there’s still Rumlow. I have to find Cassandra. She’s only in this mess cause we’ve been, well I don’t know really what we’ve been doing. But my association has gotten her captured.” 

Steve cursed inwardly, the Wolf guiltily laying back his ears. How could they forget Bucky’s own situation. “Of course, please gather any of the pack you need for tracking them.” 

Both men stepped once more on the elevator. “Barton is coming with me, and I’m going to ask the twins. Pietro is skilled like Barton is, better then I could ever be, and Wanda is a powerful healer already. I don’t know what condition I will find Cassandra. Natasha, she will be going with you to Wakanda.” Bucky swallowed deeply, and Steve clasped his shoulder. 

“What Brock did, it isn’t your fault Buck.” 

“Isn’t it though? If I never messed around with her, she wouldn’t be taken from her home, and god knows what he’s done to her. I should have known better, she’s a human, and I’m just an animal. I never had any intention of taking her as my mate, I should have just left after that first night.” Bucky started to confess, and Steve couldn’t help the twinge in his chest at Bucky’s pain. He knew the White Wolf had long ago decided that he wouldn’t take a mate, but the lone wolf still had a desire for a connection, which he had apparently found in this woman. His hand gave Buckys shoulder another squeeze before letting it slide away. 

“You will find her and return her home, Buck. As soon as I come back from Wakanda, I will join you. You are not alone in this.” 

Bucky turned haunted eyes to his Alpha, his brother, and gave a nod. “Till the end of the line.” 

“Till the end of the line” Steve repeated before the door opened. 

Steve relieved Natasha and he stretched out next to your unconscious form, and half slept till morning when they were collected and taken to the airport, a more comfortable ride set up for the five of you. The Panthers had shifted back at Peppers urging, and now joining You, Steve and Natasha were two children. A girl looking to be eight or nine, and a boy looking to be much younger, maybe five if Steve had to guess. Both the kids bid farewell to Bucky, hanging off his neck as they hugged him and he embraced them both and gave the young boy a ruffle of hair. “Yall come back to visit me, okay? But like next time we will have some fun. No locks or cages, that I promise.” Natasha nudged Steve with a grin and whispered to him. “He’s a natural.” 

Steve had to chuckle watching him. “Yes, he really is. He always had been.” he said softly before Bucky approached them, the man looking between his Alpha and Natasha. “Well, you crazy kids don’t get into any tussles with the Panthers. Means no growling at them, Steve.” He gave a mock warning leaving the Alpha growling at Bucky and Natasha grinning as she stepped forward and hugged Bucky. “Stay safe Buck, I’m not gonna be there to keep you out of trouble.” 

Bucky returned the hug with a laugh, kissing her temple. “Well that’s just not exciting then is it.” Turning to Steve the two men shared a hug too, slapping each other on the back. “Bring Y/N home man, we all just got her, not ready to lose her yet.” 

“That’s the goal, keep us updated Buck, and like Natasha said, stay safe.” The two men separated and together Natasha and Steve went onto the plane, and the door shut. Bucky turned the opposite way, joined with Barton, the two wolves preparing for the hunt. 

The flight was a long one and almost immediately Steve retreated with you, you were laid out, head on his lap as his fingers carded through your hair, his head tilted back with closed eyes, his Wolf was in a semi-relaxed state, only once in a while did the beast raise himself up to pace, using Steves senses to check on you, keep an eye on what was going on around him. Steve felt the Wolf stir, giving a soft growl to alert the man that someone was approaching him when his eyes sprang open to the boy standing in front of him with wide eyes. Steve straightened up a bit and softened his features to smile. “Hello, my name is Steve, what’s yours?” He removed his hand from your hair and held it out to the kid, offering him a peaceful shake. The kid took his hand and turned it, tracing the line of his palm as if studying it before letting go, and he spoke in his native language, which Steve simply shook his head and shrugged not understanding. The girl soon came, looking for her companion. “He said his name is Zane, sorry, my brother can not speak English yet, he was just starting to learn when we were abducted, but he does understand it. My name is Audre.” 

“I’m sorry that happened to you two, If I had known, I would have been there sooner for you,” Steve said sincerely, the two children gave a smile and shook their heads, holding no ill will towards the Alpha. “Were glad you came when you did. I had been trying to break the lock, but had no luck. We were being sold soon to some of that man’s friends.” 

“Well, you don’t have to worry about that man any longer. I promise he won’t be coming for anyone, ever again.” Steve’s hand went back to your hair, brushing through it. Zane stepped in closer and his hand went to touch your face, near your temple and tracing over your forehead and down the bridge of your nose. Speaking again, his sister was quick to translate. “He asked why is she sleeping the deep sleep?” 

The Wolf paused, twisting his ears. 

<Maybe they would know how to bring her back Steve.>

Steve looked down at you, his own hand cupping the side of your face, and letting his fingers brush along your cheeks. “She was hurt, by the man that kept you two caged. She is my mate, and I miss her very much. I’m hoping your King and his sister can bring her back to me.” 

The little boys eyes shined as he turned to his sister, speaking hurriedly. His sister listened and then turned back to Steve. 

“He says she feels you, and misses you very much Alpha. That she can hear you but is lost while searching for her Little Wolf. She went deep inside, and is looking for her way back to you. But she can feel you calling her, your touches. She was scared but knows you are keeping her safe. And… “ She turned back to her brother and listened again, nodding as she repeated it. “That it felt good to be held last night, she was worried you would leave her alone.” 

“No, never would I leave her alone.” Steve’s other hand was heavy on your hip, keeping a hold on you and the kids smiled, the little boy reaching out to pat Steve’s chest and say something else. 

“Zane says your a good Alpha, and that she is lucky to have you. She will return home, and you two will be okay once more.” Audre hugged her brother around his shoulders and looked down at him. “Come brother, The Alpha is tired and needs to rest before we get back home, let him be with his mate.” Leading him away, Steve pondered what they had told him, leaning his forehead down to press against yours, breathing you in deeply. Although your scent wasn’t entirely the same, he was still swept up on the honeysuckle softness that was all yours. “I promise I’m not going anywhere Little One.” Still, nothing, although he was now convinced you heard him. 

A short time later Natasha came to find him, sitting down next to the Alpha. This time her familiar scent washed over him, and he didn’t bother to open his eyes to his packmate, but listened closely. 

“Were about to land. T’Challa and the King’s Warriors are meeting us to welcome us. They will escort us to Shuri’s quarters and start treating Y/N right away.” 

Steve sighed quietly and opened his eyes to smile at Natasha. “Good. Zane and Audre came to see me a bit ago. Told me that she could still hear me, feel me.” 

Natasha could feel and see the pain her Alpha was in, and she reached over to drape her arm over his shoulders, sliding in closer to the two of them. “Then you should believe them, I think she knows your with her Steve, you two are connected in far more ways then just the mating bite could provide. Maybe you two are those soul mates actually destined to belong together, and not just making it work.” 

Steve still stared down at you and nodded. “Perhaps your right.” Somewhere deep inside his mind, the Wolf howled again, calling for you to return to him. And Steve could have sworn you stirred a bit under his touch. 

Natasha was correct. When they came off the plane, there was a full escort accompanying the king. The kids squealed as they ran off the plane, a man rushing forward to gather the two kids into his arms, kissing the two all over there faces with what had to be the happiest tears streaking down his face. All three spoke with such rapidity, that Steve couldn’t even fathom what was being said, but he pressed his mouth to your ear, whispering. “That is the happiest family reunion I’ve ever seen.” His blue eyes squinted in the bright sun, and soon caught sight of T’Challa approaching him and Natasha, the man had a easy way about him, calm. His language was that of a lazy cat, strolling as if all belonged to him. He clasped Steves shoulders and the two men bowed there heads to each other out of respect and T’Challa did a similar motion to Natasha before looking at you in Steve’s arms. 

“Let us get her quick to Shuri, eh? The sooner we can return your queen to you, the sooner we can celebrate her and the cubs return to the Clans.” Looking over his shoulder, he gave an order, and his warriors brought forth a carrier to bring them all back. Steve and Natasha stepped up, and their eyes traveled the ranks, surprised it was nothing but female warriors. 

“Ah, the Womans Clan is the fiercest amongst us. You ladies will fight harder than any male, correct?” T’Challa smiled at Natasha, who grinned in agreement. “Hear that Steve looks like I’m more badass then you.” 

The Alpha snorted and shook his head. “Hell if I would ever deny that. You could kick my ass any day if you wanted to.” 

T’Challa laughed deeply and Natasha gave a fist pump in victory, Steve still holding you close, praying you knew he meant every word. For him you were far stronger then he could ever be.

Once they arrived at the Kings home in the center of Wakanda, it was all a blur for Steve and Natasha. A young woman immediately took over and T’Challa stepped out of her way. She bent over Steve who retrained the warning growls from his beast as she pried your eyes open, and slid her hands down to your chest, waiting to feel your rhythm. “Shes matching your’s Alpha, good. She’s not to far gone. Get her on the table, quick now.” Steve followed behind the brisk walking Shuri, and once he set her down, she pressed against Steve’s chest to back him up. “I need room to work Alpha.” 

“Shuri… you need to explain to him what your doing to his mate.” T’Challa followed along behind, and Steve stepped back, but wasn’t too far. “Mates have a hard time separating. Even ones that haven’t shared the entire bond yet.” The King was far more aware of his situation then Steve had thought he would be. 

<Stark, I’m sure he told T’Challa everything with you and Y/N.> The wolf rumbled softly

I think your right, but that’s a good thing. The more they know the better to help Y/N. 

That settled the Wolf back down, sure to keep an eye on You. Shuri started attaching wires to your forehead, temples, then tugged your shirt up enough to attach the same wires to your chest and stomach. Grabbing a needle, she put a tourniquet to your arm and tapped at the vein. “I’m monitoring brain waves. Our humans and animals are two different waves, although we are the same. Her Wolf… if its the Heart Herb, it’s not gone Alpha. It’s in hibernation.” She plunged the needle and drew out some blood, filling a tube, before pulling it away and giving a vigorous shake, tossing it to an assistant. “Check for the Heart Herb attachment to her red cells and let me know.” Steves nose wrinkled at the scent of your blood, stirring unease in him, be he pushed it down, Shuri was just as quick in her movements to get you bandaged. 

Looking at Steve, the young woman broke out in a grin. “So ease up Alpha, if that’s the case, I can bring the Wolf back and she be good as new.” 

“If that’s what it is, can she overdose on it? Because Pierce gave her a whole vial of it at once.” Steve asked, and Suri rolled her eyes. “Of course he did. Brother, I told you that bastard took more than our Panthers.” 

“And I told you back then I agreed Sister.” T’Challa retorted as he came up next to Steve. “She could overdose, but it would have to be more than a vial. Right now, IF this is what it is, its simply a deep hibernation. Shuri has the capabilities to bring her back.” 

“We just got to get her to wake up her human side first.” Suri watched the monitors and rocked back and forth on her heels. It was like a light had gone off over her head, the way her eyes widened and she was quick to rush over to a cabinet, grabbing a vial and sticking a needle in it, filling it. 

“And I got just the way to get her to wake up. Now Alpha, this won’t be immediate, but whew when it happens, be ready.” She lifted your arm and gave you an injection, and Steve arched his brows with concern. 

“Be ready? For what?” 

Suri just giggled and disposed of the needle, smirking at him. “You will see.” 

Steve looked at T’Challa who had a similar grin on his face. “Come, let me show you your rooms, and have Natasha brought to hers.” Some assistants started to unhook you and set you on a stretcher that was powered to float on its own, following the men out of the room. They joined back up with Natasha, and everyone got settled in their rooms for the night. You were laid out, and Steve once more stretched out next to you, sighing deeply as he just talked until sleep finally overtook him. Rolling in his sleep, his arm slung over your hip, his hand pressed against your stomach, keeping you in close to him. 

You could feel your mind stirring, heated waves rolling through you. But you were still unable to drag your consciousness forward. You couldn’t find your Little Wolf and was barely aware of Steve beside you. You heard his deep baritone, and a few words, a brush of his touch, but barely. No matter how much you willed yourself to return to him, it just felt like circles. But now, now there was a heat surrounding you, and you were firmly aware of his heavy hand clasped against your stomach, and the feeling of a broad muscled chest against your back, as well as a heavy erection pressing against your backside, a hairy calf pressed between your thighs. Now, if only you could open your eyes, you drew in deep inhales of his scent, and that comforted you, your senses swirling with pines and masculinity, you tried following that, the heat just kept building and you groaned at the familiar ache it caused. You would have sworn it was like going into heat again, but how could you without the Wolf to trigger it? 

A bright light started to permeate your senses and you could feel hot breaths against the back of your neck, Steve had his face tucked into your neck, still, sound asleep, and a rumble sounded through him. It was enough to call you forward and your eyes sprang open, searching wildly for him. He was behind you, you could feel him and you twisted in his arms, grasping his lips to yours, he shuddered awake to you kissing him, his arm sweeping around you as you pressed into him, pressing him back to the mattress, your tongue swirling with his, clashing of teeth. You needed him, more then ever before you thought and you crawled up enough to straddle him, panting against his mouth, your eyes closed as you rocked your hips against him, a pleading sound in your voice. 

“I need you Alpha, Steve. Now, Please. I need you inside of me.”

<So this is what they meant> The Wolf shuddered awakening with a ferocity for his mate and Steve’s hands fell to your hips, rocking you harder against him till he lifted you to raise on your knees, and you reached for his manhood, pressing it against your center. Hands tightening, he brought you down to sheath himself in your heat, and your head tipped back with a soft cry, bracing your hands against his chest. You were dripping hot and ached so badly for him, that the relief of feeling your Alpha was bliss for you, thrusting yourself to spear him inside of you, it was a quick fury for you two. Steve’s hips slamming upwards to meet your movements holding you tightly at the waist till he released his hold to cup your breasts, teasing the nipples. You to clasp your hands over his, holding him there, panting at the sensations he brought out in you. 

“Fuck I thought I would never find you, Steve.” You rushed out while moaning, flexing yourself around him. 

“You were so far away, Little One, I kept calling to you.” He rumbled deep in his chest, and loosened his hands, flipping you two so he could give deeper more dominating strokes and you wrapped your legs around his hips, staring up at him. 

“I heard you Alpha, I tried, so hard.” You hissed and tipped your head back, Steve immediately started placing soft non claiming bites to your neck, sucking marks on it as you arched your chest to rub against his, rubbing your scent against him. Nails dug into his back, marking him in your own way as they held onto the rolling flexing muscles, speeding the rocking of your hips as you both sought to make the other cum. 

“I know you did, I know you wouldn’t leave me willingly.” Steves bites fell back to your lips, dominating your mouth with his, and you held on, feeling him start to swell in you and your cunt flexed, tightened around his cock when he angled himself just right, crying into the kiss, and tears streaming down your face at the intensity of needing to cum, flood him with yourself. He was everywhere, and you scrambled to keep yourself close even though he pounded you into the mattress, cumming just then around him. When you drifted this time it wasn’t into nothingness, but the immense pleasure that had you gasping against his neck, and he slowed down his thrusts, slow and deep while you loosened your hold, sinking back into the pillows, rocking with him, as you nodded. 

“Never Steve, I know I belong to you. I’m all yours Alpha, all yours.” softly whispering out.

Steves kiss this time was far gentler but no less as before neediness. Slow strokes of the tongue matched the roll of his hips, nudging himself to claim you full, welding you two together. There couldn’t be another, not one you wanted to hold you still underneath him, one to capture your mind, and love you in the way he does. Not just a physical need, but mental too. His forehead dropped to yours, rolling through with another connecting thrust and you both inhaled each other, the hot heavy scent of your bodies pressing together, the blood, sweat, and tears shared. For you to felt his own hot tears drop and mingle with yours rolling down your face, a quick lap of his tongue against your cheek wiped them away, as you two rocked together. 

“And your mine, Little One, you will never be alone.” He cupped your face and kissed you deeply, groaning as you came again, and his seed painted your channel, his pumps stilling as he knotted you, the two of you drifting into a bliss-filled state, tangled around one another, unwilling to separate for some time. Hushed sighs and shared nipping kisses soon enabled you both to drift off to sleep again. 

It wasn’t till some time later you woke again and were sprawled against Steve’s chest. Tilting your head, a glass of water caught your sight, and you shifted off him to reach for it, moving to sit on the edge of the bed while you gulped the glass down, parched as you had never been before. Setting the glass down, you looked around the room. And it occurred to you this was nothing like his cabin home. This was a wide-open space, and the air was not crisp and sharp woods and lake. This was almost… tropical. Musty vegetation and promise of heated days filled your senses, that’s when the breeze blew your face and you turned to an opening to a balcony, no doors or windows covering it. Grabbing the sheet, to keep the front of you covered, you wandered out to the deck to gasp softly, just below was a jungle, stretching out far, and beyond that what looked like a savannah, littered with what looked like Zebras and Gazelle, spotting an elephant, rhinos. Loud squawking and bright colors flashed below in all that greenery and a flock of macaws went screaming past, scattering over towards a statue that seemed carved right out of the cliff face, a giant prowling cat, his paw up to strike out at his enemies. 

“Were certainly not home anymore.” 

Steve stirred when he didn’t feel you next to him and looked around till he saw you, the sheet clutched around you, the wind making it ripple just a bit. Moving to roll out of bed, and to a stand, he approached from behind, sliding his hands along your bare hips under the sheet, and kissed your bare shoulder, growling softly as he took in the view you were currently gasping at. 

“Welcome to Wakanda Little One.”   

[devilrainbunnie]

._ anthurium pt 2 _.

tomura shigaraki x fem!reader

1/X/3

CW: anxiety trigger, manipulation, cheating, mentions of alcohol, mentions of depression and mental health (minors DNI)

a/n: I could not get the second part idea out of my head, I’m also going to try to write properly instead of doing all lowercase for practice. I’m used to doing lowercase but, whatever.

Tomura sprawled out over the black couch in his now empty, and lifeless apartment. His eyes were locked to the ceiling above him, though he was looking at nothing in particular. There was an unfamiliar feeling inside of his chest he had never felt before. Never in the mans life had he ever felt, or thought the way he did now. All his life he had done nothing but take, hate, use and abuse everything in this world-- so why couldn’t he stop feeling this heavy weight of regret within his body? Why did the corners of his eyes prick with hot, salty tears? Why couldn’t he stop thinking about you? In his mind, he blames you for this feeling. If you had just stayed, and let this continue, he wouldn’t feel like this. 

But deep down he knows, that this is all of his fault.

He hurt you, constantly. Because you had always been there, accepted him, and coddled him, he never expected you to go anywhere. No matter what he did, or no matter what he said to you. He had hurt you in the past, many times. You always stayed. That made him believe you were okay with everything, or that’s at least what he told himself to make what he did not as bad. He never saw you crying, he never saw you actually upset. He thought your sometimes pestering and anxious ways you tried to confront him were nothing but annoying, not that you were silently begging him to love you and see he was breaking you. Or maybe he just didn’t want to see it. He didn’t even think about how it was affecting you. He was selfish, when all you were was selfless. You’d given everything to him, after Kurogiri was taken, you took care of him. Fed him, comforted him, made sure he was holding it together. Even before that, you tried to stop him from scratching at himself, you made sure he ate more than just take out, and junk food. You made sure he slept every night, showered every day. You helped him keep his things tidy. 

You gave him something he had never had; love. You gave up everything to be with him, and you made sure to always put him above yourself, even when you shouldn’t have. He realized up until recently that he made the biggest mistake he would ever make. He lost the one person who would’ve dropped everything for him, for someone who was nothing but a good fuck. Someone who was manipulating him, someone who quite literally used their quirk to make him believe what he was feeling was genuine. 

Tomura hated himself for it, he felt like a fucking garbage can. He lost his everything. He lost his love, his life, his happiness... all for some sex, and higher ranks. 

He tried a couple times to release his pent up emotions by turning to the girl, but he felt sick any time he put his hands on her. Everything came crashing down to him, and it didn’t exactly happen immediately. The first time it hit him, is when Dabi tried to kill him. 

...

The day after you left, Tomura was furious with you. Believing you had betrayed him, deceived him, and that he was going to unleash hell the next time he laid eyes on you. He slammed doors all night long after he found your note, drinking some sake and staying up until the sun rose. That morning he had a meeting, he got ready and wore his usual new outfit, a fancy black suit, with a long black trench coat and fur lined at the hood. Something you had actually helped him pick out, even though he whined about it being itchy against his face and neck constantly. He preferred his big hoodies, skinny jeans and converse, but now that he was a leader of such a professional group-- he was expected to look the part.

He adjusted himself in the mirror, putting on the singular artist glove, and flattening out the wrinkles in his suit. In all honesty, he just wanted to go to bed, and sleep away this angered feeling but he decided against it. Tomura needed to be professional.

He stepped out of the apartment, his hands in the pockets of the thick trench coat. A migraine beginning to settle into his head at the bright lights of the building. His eyes squinting, and blinking rapidly to adjust. He mindlessly strolled over to the elevator, and waited until the doors opened. Staring at his fancy black dress shoes, thinking to himself how stupid this all was. Soon the elevator arrived, and he stepped inside. It was empty, just how he preferred it, leaning his head back against the cold metal framing of the cart as it went upwards to the room he planned to have the meeting. 

Soon he arrived on the floor, stepping out of the metal box, and walking into the large room the meeting was meant to take place. As soon as he opened the door, all eyes were on him. He walked to take his place to speak, when he heard a familiar raspy voice make a comment towards him. Tomura, having absolutely no patience for his shit, decided to speak out. “Is there a problem, crispy?” he sneered, taking his seat on the couch, scooting himself in to get comfortable.

“Yeah, there is a big fucking problem. Not that you would give a shit though, fucking prick.” 

“Excuse me?!” Tomura snapped, sitting up to look at Dabi standing in front of him.

“You fucking heard me you nasty street rat. We have a fucking problem, and you’re lucky we’re inside because I wouldn’t hesitate to torch you alive right now.”

“What crawled up your ass and died?” he scoffed.

“Y/n. You fucking pushed her away. Y/n could be dead right now for all we know and it’s all your fault, because you just had to be selfish and fuck someone who is quite literally using you.” Dabi snapped, a little bit of blue shining from the insides of his closed fists. He was seething with rage, the tension in the room was so thick, you could cut it with a knife.

“She left on her own accord dumbass. If you’re so concerned with her, then go find her yourself. Stop talking about her. I don’t have time for this shit. I did nothing--”

“That’s the thing crusty, you did. You fucking cheated on her, pushed her away, made her cry, and treated her like shit. Do you know how many times I had to see that poor girl looking like she was barely hanging on by a thread?” He sneered, Tomura rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Don’t fucking act like you did nothing wrong. All of us tried to talk to you about cheating on her because we never saw Y/n and when we did, she looked fucking hollow. I don’t know how many times Twice or Spinner tried to talk to you about it, and you’d shut the door in their faces.”

“As I said, she left on her own accord! Quit talking about this--”

“He’s right, Tomura-kun. You need to take responsibility for this, she left because of you. She didn’t just abandon you, you pushed her to her limits and she left because she felt like she was no longer wanted by you. Why can’t you just take responsibility? I thought you were better than this Tomura-kun.” Toga stepped in, his words hit her hard. Toga was like your little sister. She loved you the most out of anyone in the league besides Twice, any time she could, she was right at your hip. “I-I... I miss her so much.” Toga said quietly under her breath, feeling herself start to tear up.

“Fuck this!” Tomura said loudly, slamming his fists down against the couch, and standing to his feet. 

“You don’t get to just fucking walk away from this!” Dabi screamed at him, which was really the only time they ever heard him get upset. Dabi marched straight at Tomura, launching his fist straight to his face. Tomura grabbed his wrist with his gloved hand. They began to restrain one another before Dabi started slowly inching flames his way, and Tomura’s glove began to slip off intentionally. They were both pulled away separately. “I’m gonna kick your ass for this soon enough you grimy fuck! That girl was the only person in the league I actually enjoyed! Fuck you! I’ll fucking kill you!” Tomura realized how much he was acting like an older brother to you, and how truly sad everyone looked. You were part of their family, and he had made you leave. The rest of the day was a blur to him, he spent it drinking too much sake, playing games, and at some point crying. 

The next days, he was angry and couldn’t process his emotions without some alcohol in his system. After a while, it hit him way too hard, and sleeping at night was nearly impossible. The next weeks all he did was mope around, and hate himself. He didn’t do anything like he used to anymore, besides stuff with PLF, he just took it upon himself to waste his days away locked on the couch or bed.

...

Tomura rubbed his face with four fingers, turning to his side to stare out of the large window, watching the way the moon shined into the room. He imagined your silhouette sitting at the window watching it to, like he often saw when he came into the room. This time instead of being annoyed at your presence, he wonders how he could fix things if you never left. Would things ever even be seen properly if you hadn’t left?

He whines out loud at the thought, wishing you were there to tell him it’s all okay, and comb through his hair with your soft fingers like you used to. He wants to sleep, but he can’t. 

“I miss you. I’m a fucking idiot.” he softly murmurs into the air. Looking over to the anthurium plant that was in its usual spot that you loved so much, you had that plant longer than you were with him. Most of the plants in the room were long dead by now, but the anthurium was thriving. It gave him the smallest bit of comfort and relief, that somewhere, you were alive and okay. He wondered if you’d ever come back, even just for the plants. He smiled at the thought of you again, and he reached to the floor to pull up one of your old tee-shirts you left behind. A simple black one, and it still reeked of your familiar, comforting scent. He nuzzled his face into it, absorbing the comfortable feeling it gave him. Imagining you just being here again, right back into his arms like he wished. Like everything was okay again. The thought gave him comfort, as he closed his heavy lidded crimson irises that begged for the release of slumber. To dream of a life different than the one he was faced with. One with you in it.

In another life, I guess.

^^^

The last month was a tough one for you, you left everything behind. No plan in mind but to get as far away from Tomura as you could. You managed to get through the run down city of Deika somewhat okay, even though there was rubble covering the entirety of the streets. You would’ve been left with cuts and bruises because of how hard it was to climb over certain spots, but luckily your quirk saved you from that. Your eyes were dry by the time you reached the end of the city, it dawned on you there that you were finally free from the pain you once felt. It didn’t completely go away, but the familiarity of your surroundings was unknown, and that gave your mind some clarity. There was no pain here, nothing around you reminded you of him. It was uncharted territory, a place to make your own. Sure it was just a mostly deserted pavement road surrounded by some trees, and houses that were more than likely empty. There was nothing left to do but go forward. You walked down the empty pavement road until the sun began to rise, and still no signs of any civilization. It was empty, lifeless, and dull, but you were happy. Free. From time to time you’d stop to fix your shoes, find somewhere to relieve yourself or drink some water. 

You were hoping to find a bus, or a motel before you got too tired. You stopped for a moment to check the small pocket watch you had with you in your bag to see that it was almost seven in the morning. But you kept on, and even though your legs began to feel like jello-- you soon were coming upon a new city. One that looked full, lively, and different. 

Instead of just hopping on a bus, you decided to find a motel to shower, unwind and sleep in a warm bed. As you stumbled upon one, paid for you room and stripped yourself of your clothes, you immediately crashed to the bed. Sleeping for far longer than you wanted to, but needed to.

For a while it was a lot of traveling, trying to come up on a plan, and your money was running low. You were free, but there was still a cost. There you were, eating some cheap, cold soba outside in the rain in Musutafu. It was midday, and there was a lot of people out on the streets going to and from work (or school, who knows), the streets were lined with cars. heroes were on patrol everywhere. It felt good to be back somewhere you were used to, even if there was nothing for you there to feel stable. The jacket you wore was fairly thick, but didn’t keep you the warmest. You sat underneath a small bus stop shivering while eating something that made your hands go numb. Some of those that passed you gave you dirty looks, eyeing you up and down, assuming you were just another dirty beggar enjoying a meal someone else paid for you. Internally you felt ashamed of yourself for having to live like this, but it was all for a purpose. Let them stare, what do they know?

Soon your noodles were lessening, and you had finished your soba. After you took the last few noodles, you grabbed all of the trash you had sitting around you, and walked over to a trash can outside of the large law firm you were outside of. Placing it inside, and walking away before you heard something behind you. “Y/n?” a voice called from behind you, not registering at first that it was familiar to you.

You turned your head to look at the person behind you. It was Giran, in the flesh. Standing there with an umbrella over his head, and cigarette kissing between his lips. “Giran?” He flopped his grey locks out of his forehead. He looked exactly how you remembered him, gapped tooth, nice looking clothes, beautiful gold rings decorating his fingers, and the little glasses of his you always tried to steal from him.

“Doll... what the hell are you doing all the way over here? What happened? Why do you...”

“Why do I look like this?” You raised your brow, he shamelessly nodded. “I’m homeless, that’s why.”

“Why? What happened for you to be homeless?”

“I... I left. Things happened, I just-- I needed to leave.” you stumbled over your words, not really wanting to tell him the full story.

“I have a feeling there’s a story there you’re not telling me.”

“Yeah, I’ll tell you about it another time. Well, it was good seeing you, I’ll leave you to it--” 

He hastily cut you off, not letting you walk away from him. It was obvious to the both of you that you were running from something, and probably going to run off to another city alone again. “Wait!” you turned to him, raising your eyebrow to him. “I was just heading home, come with me. You shouldn’t be out here alone, doll.”

“I don’t want to impose... Really, I’ll be fine--”

“Y/n. You are homeless, I want you to be safe and sleep in a warm bed. You aren’t imposing sweetheart, I’ll take care of you. I ask nothing in return besides that you fill me in at some point about what happened. I don’t wanna hear any no’s or but’s coming from ya, you’re not sleeping out on the streets anymore. Let’s go.” he said shamelessly. Giran was always good with looking out for you, you came to him shortly before going to the league looking for work as a healer within a group. You found yourself intrigued by Shigaraki, and Giran of course being the gentleman he is, asked you if you were sure a million times. Telling you that no matter what happened, he would watch over you, and take care of you. He’d always cared. You hastily agreed, he patted your shoulder comfortingly.

You followed him closely back to his home, the umbrella doing little to prevent water from falling all over you. Soon you arrived to his beautiful home, and quickly settled in. He allowed you to take a shower, took all of your clothes to run through the washer, and gave you some of his spare clothes to wear in the mean time. The hot water soothed your sickly cold feeling skin, the musky mint smelling soap soothing your senses. For the first time in a while, you were relaxed.

After taking a shower, and setting up in his guest room, Giran came into the room. Eyeing you carefully as you sat in the white cotton sheets in his baggy undershirt and basketball shorts. Your wet hair sticking to the back of your head. “Hungry?” he asked. “I’m about to order takeout, what sounds good?”

“Curry, and taiyaki. Haven’t had either in so long.”

“An interesting combination, but I’ll see what I can do. Just relax for now, feel free to hangout in the living room. I got a TV and some books. Do whatever you feel, though.” he grinned at you. Patting the doorway before turning to walk away.

“Giran?” you called out to him.

“Yes?” he replied putting himself back into view.

“Thank you, for everything. I hope I can make it up to you one day.”

“Don’t worry about that now doll, all I care about is keepin’ you safe.” he smiled a genuine smile, which you returned. It was nice to be surrounded by so much hospitality and kindness. He stepped away from the door frame once again to let you do whatever it is you wanted to do. That night you both shared a meal, chatted, and went to bed. He let you take some books into the guest bedroom for you to read whenever you wanted. You felt at ease, like you were finally safe and grounded. You didn’t have to rely on Tomura for anything anymore, you had yourself. 

Even though deep down, you missed him. It had been ages since he last held you, kissed you, or even looked at you properly-- but you still missed it. All of it. You wondered if he was doing okay, if he was still with her, or if he even cared if you left. Honestly, you doubted it, he probably would’ve taken a couple days to even realize something was even slightly off. You didn’t regret your decision, but part of you would always miss him. 

Always, and forever, love him.

--

Over the next month or so, the routine was generally the same. Giran learned about what Tomura had done to you and why you were homeless. He decided to let you work with him in his office, you mostly would just organize his files, greet clients (usually ones he needed help convincing because you were the little office eye candy), cleaning around the office, and just overall being his assistant. He respected you, cared for you, and got you back to your feet-- without expecting a thing from you. The two of you were growing closer, and you were nothing but thankful to him. Sometimes the two of you would dress up super fancy to go to meetings for very high up clients who couldn’t be seen anywhere near where Giran worked out of safety for the two of them. It was a quite relaxing life, and you were growing used to everything. 

There you sat in your usual spot in Giran’s office, filing some paperwork that needed to be put away. Your office was a little room attached to Giran’s main office, small but comfortable. You’d spend most of the day in there until it was lunch time, or special cases where he needed your charm to make a client more comfortable. You were lost in the groove of the routine that often came with these tasks, listening to the music playing from your laptop speaker that was low enough to be able to hear anyone talking, and not be heard by anyone but you. From time to time stopping to play with the button on your blouse. Giran insisted that you dressed formally for the job, which consisted in business formal attire. Like right now, you were wearing a black button up blouse, dark maroon pencil skirt, tights, and black mary-jane high heeled shoes. A cute little choker chain on your neck to show some more class, and matching simple earrings. You looked formal enough to be doing the job, but also cute enough to just go out in the outfit.

After sitting, and filing for what seemed like hours, you decided to stretch. Getting up from your chair, and popping your limbs. Walking into Giran’s office cautiously. You didn’t hear anyone with him, but you never knew. You lightly knocked on the door frame to get his attention, his face was downwards as he read over some documents at his desk. “Hey bossman, how’s it goin’?” You asked him, leaning into the open frame. His head turned towards you away from the desk, a small smile present on his features.

“Good, good. Just readin’ over this real quick. You need me doll?”

“Oh don’t flatter yourself, I just needed a bit of a break, and you also shouldn’t be stretching your neck out like that. You might hurt yourself.” raising your eyebrows playfully. He scoffed and rolled his eyes.

“Well, it’s almost time for lunch. How about you go out and get us somethin’ to eat? You hungry yet?” he asked pulling a cigarette from his pocket, and placing it on his mouth. Grabbing his metal lighter from the desk to light it, taking a long drag before exhaling the smoke slowly out his nose.

“Hmm... maybe, I’d be okay with getting us something.” 

“One sec.” he replied, getting up from his seat to walk to his large trench coat that sat in its place on the coat rack in the corner next to the door. Digging in the pocket of it for something, which he soon found. He took a drag on the cancer stick once more before returning. “Here’s my card.”

“Thanks.” 

“Also, you look beautiful today Y/n.” he admitted, leaning against his desk in front of you.

“Are you implying I don’t look beautiful every other day?” you retorted, feeling your face warm up with bashfulness. 

“Never, doll. Just thought I’d make you smile.” he leaned towards you. Pulling his cigarettes from his lips to press a kiss to you forehead, your stomach fluttering wildly. Sometimes his little affirmations of affection made you go insane, you sometimes wished you had the confidence and stability to just grab his collar, and kiss him. Sure, he was older, but he was attractive. There was no doubt there, and the feelings were mutual. But you assumed neither of you wanted to ruin what was already going on. “Now get on, it might rain within the next hour. Wouldn’t want you to get wet.”

You smiled, placing your hand on his cheek in an assuring way before walking to the coat rack to grab your warm coat. Turning back to him before exiting the office, a soft smile present on your lips, muttering a quick good bye before opening the door. 

--

Soon you were back with take out bags on your hands, coming up upon the door of the office, knocking, before taking a step in. Happy to see Giran again, and eat your lunch. As your eyes registered upon the desk in front of you, you felt your heart drop into your stomach. Your hands quickly becoming sweaty as your gripped on to the plastic bags you held on to for dear life. There was that familiar light blue colored mop of hair sitting in the chair adjacent from Giran. He was wearing a black trench coat you hadn’t seen him wear since he exchanged his wardrobe for all of the suits, his back was to you, but even then you could still immediately tell it was him. His voice rang in the air, and died quietly as he recognized Giran’s distressed face. 

“Giran, what...” he asked, but let the words fall off his tongue, turning his head to look into your direction.

Without waiting, you dropped the bags of food on the ground, turning to open the office door. You quickly walked to the elevator, smashing the buttons on the wall to step in, just wanting to get away from him. You were scared to face him, you refused to, and luckily the buttons outside the elevator dinged, and it opened, you looked back to the office to see Tomura opening the door, catching your gaze. “Y/n! Wait! Please!” he called after you as you rushed inside the elevator, smashing the buttons to close. Your arms and legs trembling violently as you waited for the door to close on him.

“Stop! Y/n please let me-- hey stop!” he called after you, his foot steps and voice growing closer as the door began to close. When it almost came to a close, you saw his panicked red iris, he sounded so distressed that it made you almost want to open up the door, and let him in. But at the same time, you were trembling. You knew he worked with Giran, but you never expected to see him again. Giran tried to promise you that, but he also warned that things were unpredictable, and that he would do his best to keep you safe. You felt tears welt up in your eyes that you tried to blink away, knowing that he most likely was going to beat you to the lobby and confront you anyways.

You loved him.

But could you even forgive him?

[rmg91]

Zoe Week; Day 6-A Night Off

AKA Comfort Zoe Night

So, this was the first prompt I actually wrote cause it spoke the most to me (the fluffy potential) but then the muses decided to be difficult and I struggled with it until like 2 days before Zoe Week began. I also wound up scrapping my partial first draft and re-writing the first bit to be slightly based off some wonderful Teny art because I realized it could still fic with my idea! (Gotta love great art that inspires) (The art in question is those wonderful pics of Zoe and Douxie as he meets her after a shift at Hextech and then precedes to be a little shit) Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this one and hopefully it doesn’t end too abruptly, like I said the muses wanted to be difficult with this one.

AO3

~*~*~*~*~*~

The night was clear and cool, something that would usually bring calm to the pink haired witch as she walked home from another busy day at Hex-Tech but not tonight. The day had been absolutely brutal. First she'd had the early shift, which was never fun, then she'd been assigned to the bar for almost the entirety of her shift which meant dealing with all sorts of customers. The irritable, the entitled, the ones that just wouldn't listen, it had almost driven her insane by the time her lunch break arrived. It was only after slurping down a cup of noodles and sending a curse heavy text on how crappy her day had been so far to Douxie that she got the wonderful news that she had to work a double shift. She was so going to curse Dave the next time she saw him, she always got his shifts whenever he didn't come in. And of course that extra shift came with, you guessed it, more bar duty! So Zoe had dealt with double the awful customers! Including two absolute Karen's. Why her managers kept putting her in the front when her talents lay better with the tech itself, she'd never understand.

At least she was finally off for the weekend...

Coming around the last corner before her apartment building, she spied her longtime partner and lover, Hisirdoux, leaning against the chain-link fence, waiting for her. She paused for a moment, taking in the rare relaxed air around him and admiring his bare biceps for a moment before sighing, knowing why he was waiting for her. And usually she'd be ready to go hunt Niffins and take on whatever else they might encounter on a Friday night, especially after the day she had, but she was too beat to do anything more. So shifting her bag in her grip, she made her way closer to the wizard, not looking forward to canceling their plans.

“Ah! The fair lady approaches!” He exclaimed, noticing her first with a smirk before his face soften, “Rough day, Love?”

“Uuugg!! You have no idea!!” She groaned, knowing her text had said as much but now she could rant in person about just how bad it actually was. Stopping next to him, she ran her fingers through her hair before rubbing at her temples, trying to push down the migraine that had been brewing since two o'clock, “Not only did fuckin' Dave not come in, we had two, Two, Karen's come in! I was almost certain we'd have a third but thankfully her husband calmed her down. Of course then that entitled Spanish teacher had to come in, again, who, of course, I had to deal with! Not to mention all the other sorts that came in today... And! Because the universe's law apparently decided to hate me today, someone calls right before closing!” She groaned again, feeling annoyed anew rather than relieved after her rant. “Anyway, as much as I'd like to go Niffin hunting, I'm just too beat-!”

Distracted as she was with her rant, the hedge-witch hadn't noticed Douxie's arm sneaking around her before he wrapped it around her shoulder and laid a kiss on her head. He hummed into her hair, nuzzling her softly, “I'm so sorry your day sucked, Darling.”

“Yeah, well...” Zoe felt her cheeks heat up, sinking into the hug he started to give her and feeling most of the fight leave her suddenly. You'd think after almost five hundred years of being together romantically this sap wouldn't cause such a reaction but you'd be wrong. “It's over now, I guess...And I have the weekend off thankfully.”

“That you do~” Douxie sang into her ear before suddenly rubbing his hand over her head vigorously and messing up her hair, “And I'm sure you'll feel much better after a good nights sleep!!”

“Aaarrgggg!!!” Zoe cried out in surprise and anger, “Hisirdoux!!” She pushed him away, glaring at his grin before marching away, “Jerk! Why do I like you again?!”

“Because without me and Arch your life would be dreadfully boring~?”

She huffed and flattened down her hair, “Hardly.” She then glared over her shoulder, “You are so sleeping on the couch tonight, or better yet, your own apartment when you get done.” She honestly wondered why she put up with his antics.

Douxie merely laughed some more, catching up to her and wrapping his arm around her waist, “Actually, Love, I've decided we're all taking the night off.” When she looked up at him with a disbelieving look he responded, “Really! Wards are already in place around town, so if there's any trouble, Arch and I can go take care of it but otherwise...” The wizard shrugged, “We're all off for the night and you have a little surprise waiting for you~”

“A surprise? Really?” She glared up at him, still annoyed, “I doubt whatever it is will make up for that stunt you just did...”

“I think it will~!” He sang.

Zoe huffed and crossed her arms, muttering a 'whatever' and allowing him to escort her to her apartment building and up to her home. Entering, she dropped her bag and kicked her shoes off by the door, striding over to where Archie was laying on the back of the couch and greeting the familiar with a chin scratch. Glancing around she saw nothing out of the ordinary with the exception that her sink was now empty of the few dishes she'd left there. If that was her so called 'surprise' than it was going to take a lot more than him doing her dishes for her to calm down from that surprise noogie. Lifting an eyebrow at the wizard, silently asking just what exactly he had planned, she watched him grin again before he offered up his arm to her.

“Come with me, Milady~ Your surprise awaits~”

Looking back down at Archie, the black cat merely stretched and stated, “I've been sworn to secrecy.”

Right, of course. Rolling her eyes, the pink hair witch allowed Douxie to guide her down her own hallway, stopping in front of the bathroom. Usually she could sniff out an idea on what he liked to surprise her with but tonight between her exhaustion and the fact that she was still a little annoyed with him, made her question just what he could've set up in the bathroom of all things.

Grinning down at her, Douxie gently pushed the door open and snapped his fingers. A dozen candles lit with the small pulse of magic, illuminating the simple space with a soft orange light and revealing the steaming, bubble filled bath. The light aura of blue magic indicated a warming spell, keeping it the perfect temperature for when she got home. Zoe let out a soft breath, feeling most of her annoyance leave, and leaned against him, letting him wrap his arms around her and nuzzle the top of her head. Trust this wonderful sap to fix her up something like this after she'd rough day at work. Sometimes Zoe wondered just what she did to have someone like Hisirdoux Casperan in her life but she certainly wasn't going to be ungrateful about it. She was even willing to let the whole noogie thing go...mostly.

“I want you to know I don't completely forgive you for that stunt outside but this...is a nice surprise.” She could even make out the light scents of tangerine and patchouli wafting from some of the candles. “And you can't always get away with something like that either.”

He chuckled low, placing a soft kiss on her head, “Of course, Love~” He carefully stepped back, bowing in an exaggerated manner as he gestured to the bathroom, “Now, do please enjoy, Milady, and once you're are done a meal will be ready for you.”

She snorted, “You can't cook.”

He clicked a pair of finger guns at her, “No but I can work an oven!” He then left her to her own devices with a final grin.

Zoe rolled her eyes and shook her head fondly. Gods he was a dork.

~*~*~*~

Twenty minutes later found Zoe happily relaxing in her bath, feeling better after the day she'd had, eyes closed as she listened the soft tunes playing from her small radio. She had to hand it to Douxie, he had thought of everything when setting all this up. The candles were the right amount of light, the radio was already set to play and the bath was filled with her favorite brand of bubble bath. There had even been a rolled up towel for behind her head as she leaned back in the tub. Humming along softly to the music, Zoe only wished for one last thing to make this perfect.

As if summoned by her thoughts, the door opened slowly just enough to allow a wine glass surrounded by blue magic to float in. Laughing lightly, she grabbed it out of the air, taking a sip before calling out, “Thank you but you could've given me it in person.”

“A gentleman never intrudes on a lady.” Was her response before she was left alone again to enjoy her bath.

~*~*~*~

Zoe eventually emerged, having stayed long enough for her fingers to prune slightly and for the water to grow cold, plus her stomach kept protesting the lack of food. So she made her way into the living room wrapped in one of Douxie's old bad shirts and a hoodie she had stolen, breathing in the scent of a freshly cooked frozen pizza. She was passed a plate with two large slices of her favorite kind, three meat with extra mushrooms, and had her glass refilled before being pointed over to go recline on the couch. Shaking her head, she followed the silent order and sat down, digging in before her boys were settled. Archie was passed a plate of salmon and sardines before Douxie joined her, his own plate balanced in a hand.

“So, what does the lady wish to watch tonight?” He asked, reaching for the remote and flipping through channels.

“Hmm...” The pinkette hummed, tucking her knees under her before taking a large bite of her pizza, “Don't really care. Just find something we can zone out to or make fun of.”

“As you wish~”

“Oh gods, no! Do not put that movie on!” She exclaimed, “I will kick you out if you do!”

Douxie laughed, almost spilling his dinner, “Very well! Not in the mood for it tonight.” He continued to chuckle as he flipped through more choices before settling on another horribly inaccurate film of a time they've lived through.

Later, once food was eaten and their movie had changed to something else, Zoe was snuggled against Douxie's side, on the verge of sleep. Archie was a ball of purring warmth on her lap and Douxie kept running soothing circles on her arm as she listened to his heartbeat. The witch was once again grateful to have these two in her life, not knowing just where she'd be without them. They made the bad days better. Wither it was helping her with a sprained ankle from running from goblins, helping her fight of a demon hellbent on kidnapping all the girls in a village or having to deal with crappy customers all day, they were always there beside her. Even if Douxie loved to take cheep shots that ultimately pissed her off even more. Zoe knew she'd always forgive him. And so, full, relaxed and loved, she fell asleep.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Aaahhh, Zoe loves her dork~ And gotta love cheesy endings lol! Hope you enjoyed and aahh!! Zoe week is almost over!

[phantomgirl15]

Going Angst Week Day 2: Obsession/Instinct

Warnings: implied suicide, gun use, trauma description.

Rating: M                          Words: 1,649

The halls were almost empty, school having gotten out not long ago. Danny was alone, his backpack slung over his shoulder as he walked slowly to the place he had agreed to meet. His shoes were barely grazing the floor, his instincts telling him that something was about to happen to him, and not something good. He heard a few chuckles from down the hall, his head slowly rising to see a familiar face staring back at him.

"Weston."

"Fenton."

Danny continued to slowly hover towards Wes. He felt the tension in the hallway as he stopped in front of the classroom that was designated for their use. He waved for Wes to enter first. The redhead slowly turned himself and walked towards the desks in the room, Danny following, still feeling the unease that he felt in the hall.

"So why are we here?"

Danny crossed his arms lightly over his chest, waiting for Wes to once again say anything. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand themselves up. Shivers ran up his spine as he saw what was in Weston's backpack.

"Hey. Why do you have that?"

He saw a Fenton ghost gun. His eyes widened as Weston continued to stay silent and put his hand over the device.

"How did you even get that into the school?"

Wes pulled it from his backpack. It hovered in his hands for a moment, Wes looking closely at it before making eye contact with Danny and holding the gun to his face. Danny could feel the laser his mom had installed for aim.

"Tell me why you killed Kyle."

. . .

Danny had been feeling a weird irk in his core all day, it was only a Wednesday, the weekend not close enough. His core pulsated at him to tell him that he needed to go ghost soon. He hadn't had a reason to for a while, all the ghosts avoiding the town for the past week. The town had been almost too quiet.

He felt his head pound for a moment, his core forcing him to feel the irk harder, stronger. He groaned in pain for a moment, the loud commotion in the hallway not helping with what felt like an oncoming migraine. He saw his friends down the hall, waving him down frantically.

"Hey, how's it going, dude?"

Danny fist-bumped Tucker, hugging Sam.

"Eh, you know. Just feeling that urge to go ghost ASAP."

"Why don't you just try ignoring it?"

Sam smacked the back of his head as she walked past him and gestured to the lunchroom that they were scheduled to go to.

"I don't know if I can. It's just... Instinct, you know? It feels like something bad will happen if I don't."

Danny hauled his backpack higher on his back, Tucker snickering a bit.

"Dude, you're acting like an animal. I'm pretty sure you've turned taking care of your ghost half into an obsession."

"It's not an obsession!"

"That's what all people who are addicted to something say."

Sam laughed as they got to the lunchroom and sat down, the conversation beginning to stress Danny out. Sam could feel the cold around him spreading further from his body.

"It's not an addiction. I promise. I think I'll just go for a flight after school."

Tucker felt the static around Danny from the conversation topic's stress. The air around him almost made it feel like he was playing with static electricity. He shivered a bit, the air chilling his spine.

"If you say so. Just be careful."

. . .

"What does that have to do with you killing my brother?"

Wes moved the gun closer to Danny's forehead, Danny raising his hands in surrender.

"Chill, chill. That's the late morning the day it happened. I'm getting there."

"Speed it up."

"I can't if you want the full story."

. . .

School got out, the final bell ringing. Danny sighed in relief, rushing himself home to drop his backpack off before feeling the usual cold, tingly sensation as he let his ghost half show. He breathed deep, letting the air out of his lungs completely, his ghost portion stopping the breathing.

He took a step towards his window, swinging it wide open. Another step and he was floating above the town. He felt the spring breeze and leaned back a bit, his core pulsating calmly. He felt it almost thanking him for giving it time to be free.

"It's not an obsession."

Danny whispered gently to himself, feeling a warm pulse in his chest, almost a heartbeat - which wasn't normal for him. He gasped, feeling the need to breathe out of shock. The warmth grew stronger, Danny feeling the need to use more powers than just flight. He felt his body aching from too much power in his core.

He moved a bit, stretching himself out before flying towards the center of the city. He saw the school below him, a few kids just getting done with practice and study groups. He felt the warmth spreading through his whole body almost making him itch under his skin.

The feel of it was unbearable to Danny, he almost felt the need to protect the city.

"Oh god."

Danny ran his hand through his hair, his glove getting lost in the white mess on his head.

"It is an obsession."

He felt a few muscle spasms, felt his ghost half begin to act more like a ghost than a human, the one thing he always tried to prevent. He felt the ghost's anger, rage burning through him, no longer feeling that he was in control of himself. He fell the pull of the ghost, the fangs he always kept hidden sliding out and showing themselves.

Danny felt his body dive, closing in on the school at a rapid pace. He found a room in the building, one student left. He didn't even care who it was. He saw that it was a redhead, assumed it was one of the Weston's. He no longer cared which one. It was going to be hell for him now that he couldn't control his ghost portion.

. . .

"That tells me nothing."

Danny became flustered, not certain why Weston was expecting more.

"I... I blacked out. I don't remember what happened after that. I woke up the next morning to my alarm for school in my bed. I can't help it that I had ghost instinct."

Danny paused for a moment.

"Because I couldn't control it anymore. Because it's an obsession."

Wes let the gun charge, making sure it was pointed dead center in Danny's forehead.

"You couldn't control yourself? I had to see that he never came home. Because you killed him. At school. His blood was all over the floor, the walls, the ceiling. I had to be shown that video footage. I... school couldn't happen until they managed to clean that up."

He swallowed harshly.

"Because you couldn't stop yourself, I had to lose part of my family. This school will never be the same. Nothing will be the same."

Danny opened his mouth, wanting to defend himself.

"It might be your "obsession" to take care of your ghost half, to let it have its ghost tendencies... But that doesn't overpower my obsession to reveal your secret to the whole town. Whether I die or not."

Danny felt the warmth again, felt his fangs slide out. He felt the power of his ghost half spilling into his human half. Wes stepped forward again, his hand tremoring a bit from fear. He felt the sweat on the back of his neck, cold drips running down into his shirt.

Danny's core glowed, a white light showing from inside his chest. Wes noticed it. He noticed the white rings that appeared at the waist, hovering for a moment before revealing the white-haired ghost boy. Wes felt the hands that grabbed him, pushing him against the wall, not even having been able to see how fast it had moved to grab him.

"You think, that I care? I'll just let my ghost become the new me. Nobody liked Fenton anyway."

A small laugh erupted from Danny's throat. Wes tried to gulp down some air, his lungs almost refusing.

"What are you gonna do about it?"

Wes raised his forearm slightly, the gun still charged. He saw the laser on Danny's shoulder.

He pulled the trigger.

Danny fell backward, grabbing his shoulder and hissing. Wes pulled himself back up, his shoulder aching from the recoil that made him hit the wall harder. He charged it again, Danny rushing hard at him, he pointed, his eyes closing as he pulled the trigger again.

Wes's eyes opened, slowly, one at a time. He saw the gaping hole in Danny's chest, right where the glowing had been. Danny had frozen entirely, his mouth hanging open, hands reaching for his chest. Wes saw the face change from anger to shock. The pain crossing his face, the body collapsing on the floor. He saw the white rings again, and now the human Danny was lying on the floor, the same hole in his chest, his eyes glassed over.

Wes felt his jaw quiver, a small breath being all he could get in. Tears ran down his face, the Fenton's ghost gun being charged one more time. He pressed the small button on the back, the almost unnoticeable button, the charge switching from green to blue. Wes pressed the trigger, collapsing to the ground, his tears stopping as he slumped up against the wall. He looked to the security camera, knowing that Danny would be revealed after this mess. The school could no longer keep it a secret.

"I'm sorry."

Wes barely pushed out his last few words, his brother once again in front of him, smiling and waving to him cheerfully. Wes smiled, seeing his brother again was all he had wanted.

[cuinnamonbun]

I really love ur headcanon about Hijabi Mc with the brothers! I really love it cuz there is no one writing about us in any fandom =(

I was thinking would u do the (un)datebale characters with Hijabi Mc if u can ? =3

If u don’t want then u can ignore the ask 🖤

Hello there, angel! I assume you meant the chaotic Hijabi MC headcanon that I wrote, so I hope you enjoyed these xx

she/her pronouns!!

The (Un)Dateable Characters' + Luke’s Reactions to a Hijabi MC That Looks Extremely Pious and Quiet but is Actually a Chaotic Mess

Diavolo

As future king of the Devildom that wishes to strengthen the relations between the three realms, prejudice and discrimination against the human exchange students’ choice of religion is a HUGE no-no

Diavolo would not mind the fact that she is wearing a symbol of her devotion to God on her head, but he would be so intrigued by this human at first meeting

Not about her religion, of course, he is well aware of all the religions in the world; Abrahamic religion being the one he is most familiar with (obvi)

What excited him was the fact that this human was so. friggin. hilarious.

He’s not even sure if this human is doing it on purpose because something would happen that would catch her off guard and she would just say?? the most random shit???

Like say, she got jumped by Mammon and her response to that would be a monotone scream and a “sTOP i could’ve dropped my croissant!” but she was actually genuinely startled

He’d be so fascinated like wow! Go girl, give us nothing!!

He would invite her over for tea so many times just so she could explain slang to him

Diavolo: Tell me MC, what is the meaning of DILF?

Due to personal reasons, MC will now be passing away

He would abuse the usage of slang everywhere and he would be so excited to finally understand what Leviathan is talking about

Lucifer: Diavolo, we must talk about the student council budget

Diavolo: That wasn’t very cash money of you

Lucifer: ....excuse me?

Diavolo: Periodt okurrr slay queen

MC has to go hide to avoid being slaughtered like a sacrificial lamb by Lucifer

Diavolo would be also be curious and impressed at the intricate planning of each and every one of her pranks

Like sure, it may be annoying to be the one at the receiving end of it, but understanding the details behind it?? All the logic, physics and patience put into it just to ensure a flawless delivery??? Absolutely stunning

MC has him mesmerised

He would absolutely want to learn the art of pranking from her

Honestly, at this point it’s no longer the human exchange student and the Devil King, it’s now the mentor and the mentee

Lucifer has to demand MC to stop teaching him these things for the sake of his sanity because it’s taking him away from his royal duties that’s keeping the Devildom from falling apart

They still meet up in secret though screw you, Lucifer

Barbatos

This is another demon whom would not mind the fact that their chosen exchange student is a Muslim

Lord Diavolo’s reputation hangs on this exchange program going extremely well, he would not let simple prejudices put a smear on that

He has prepared himself well to receive people from different walks of life just so he can provide all students a comfortable stay during their term in the Devildom

But wait...what is that human doing?

Oh...this poor man

Not only does he have to keep that ginormous labyrinth of a castle spotless and immaculate at all times and ensure that every event being hosted by the castle is going perfectly without a hitch, but he also has to take care of an overgrown man-child that is also known as the future king of the Devildom

Now, he has to make sure this...mess of a human doesn’t go stir up trouble anywhere?

Barbatos is a calm and collected man, but he’s still a demon; virtues aren’t exactly something they practice 

He would need to down three cups of melancholy coffee and squeeze a stress ball whenever he catches MC in her antics whether it is alone or with someone in tow

Somehow he’s the only one whom MC would find almost impossible to prank

Like she managed to catch Lucifer off guard once (that was her proudest achievement) but BARBATOS???? yeah, it’s like he has a pair of eyes on the back of his head or something

MC: *tries to sneak up on him*

Barbatos, not even turning back: Enough of that now, MC, come enjoy this tea I’ve made

Pranking Barbatos will become her number one mission during her entire term in the Devildom

Barbatos would be really amused and impressed at the lengths she would go through just to see that shocked look on his face

Why, it might even be—dare he say—endearing

Though MC will cause this man stress and grey hairs, Barbatos couldn’t help but appreciate her company every time she came around

When she’s not up to her daily shenanigans, she would simply opt to help Barbatos out with some of the chores or preparing the treats for a tea party with the student council members and the exchange program, even though he’s mentioned that she should do no such thing

But knowing that this girl is constantly energetic and restless, Barbs agreed to let her help since he would not want to deal with her breaking some priceless antiques or getting herself in trouble with Devildom law again

She helps to remind him that it’s okay to be laidback once in a while and that he doesn’t need to be so uptight all the time

These two have an unusual friendship but it’s only good vibes all around ^^

Before she leaves the Devildom though, he would pretend that she actually managed to startle him with her last grand prank and the look on her face was worth his reputation taking a slight hit

He totally has a soft spot for her

Solomon

OOOOH THESE TWO

THESE TWO ARE THE EMBODIMENT OF CHAOS ITSELF

Solomon and MC would be the best of friends man

The minute this shady sorcerer laid his eyes on her, he KNEW...this would be his new BFF

They would wreak so much havoc together that they give Lucifer a migraine the size of Lord Diavolo’s castle because they’re rUiNiNG tHe iNtEgRiTy oF tHE eXcHanGe pRoGrAm

Psh, as if that’d stop them

Honestly, it was like they each have one braincell that cancels each other out every time they get together

Lucifer: You two better have an explanation for this

MC: We have three actually. 

Solomon: Pick your favourite

Lucifer hates it whenever they get together and he would always try to prevent them from meeting up 

But his wits are no match for the power of their friendship!!

Solomon would defff try to persuade MC to get more pacts with other demons

Solomon: C’monnnn MC, we could be powerful! :c

MC: Bold of you to assume we’re not powerful now, bestie

So we have established that MC loves to pull pranks right?

She would have so many ideas on the top of her head that she would never use because 1) they either defy the laws of physics or 2) she would need magic to pull it off perfectly

So imagine her excitement when she found out Solomon is the greatest human sorcerer

She would 100% reel him in her plans and schemes and NO ONE (except the angels, they have immunity bc they’re babies :] ) would be safe from them

Despite all the fun they would have though, Solomon definitely treasures her as his greatest friend

I imagine life for Solomon would be quite lonely and he appreciates the constant joy and company that MC would provide him

He would definitely fuck a bitch up if someone dares to mess with his bestie 🙄

These two adore each other so much but they would be caught DEAD before they would admit that to each other 🤭

Simeon

When they first met, Simeon was so happy to find a person so devoted to God such as MC

He takes it upon himself to become MC’s guardian angel around the Devildom

He would helicopter them for a while and would (reluctantly) back off if MC finds it a bit suffocating 

(don’t be mean MC, he just cares about u alot that’s all :( )

This man is capital P patient

I mean, that’s a given with him being an angel and all

But seriously,,, one has to be in awe at how calm and collected he is even when MC would pull pranks that would cause a normal person to wanna punch the living daylights out of her

Eventually she would feel bad and stop pulling these pranks on him though, he’s just too sweet and she can’t take advantage of that </3

They would be really close though (along with Luke) because he would frequently invite her to pray the 5 essential prayers together with Luke or read the Qur’an together and it’s just wholesome vibes all around man 🥺

As angels, him and Luke would have such beautiful recitations of the Qur’an and I can picture MC frequently dropping by Purgatory Hall just to listen to him recite the kalimahs with the perfect tajweed (Non-Muslims if you’d like to hear an example, check out Sheikh Mishary reciting Surah al-Kahf, it’s beautiful man 🥺)

He would frequently invite MC and Luke out for walks too and these three would look so domestic together people often mistake them as a little family (much to the brothers’ chagrin and Simeon’s amusement)

Simeon has such a calming presence that he could even tame a chaotic MC down and have her sit still enough, it will be as if she turned into a completely different person

Lucifer, in his demon form: MC STOP RUNNING AROUND YOU’RE GOING TO FALL AND HURT URSELF

MC, violently shaking like a hamster on crack: U CANT STOP ME LUCI, URE NOT THE BOSS OF-

Simeon: Hello, MC! Would you like to come and have a pleasant chat with me? ^^ 

MC, as if in a trance: ...anything for you, Beyonce

MC is such a simp for Simeon and honestly, who can blame her?

Luke

Luke was extremely happy when the two of them met

This cutie is a proud servant of God and he loves humans who loves Him as much as he does

So it comes as to no one’s surprise when he attaches himself to MC

This would heighten when MC stepped between him, Beel and Lucifer during that,,,,incident

His favourite time of the day is praying in congregation with MC and Simeon and baking with MC

MC would steer clear from involving Luke in her pranks and/or outright pranking him

He’s just a precious little child okay, MC has a soft spot for this angel

She would definitely try to tone down her chaotic energy around him, but she would NOT hesitate to verbal + cyber bully any demons that dare to bully her child

Rando demon: haha shortstack

MC: So you have chosen death

Seriously, Luke would gawk at the obscenities coming from MC’s mouth

He would have to physically drag her away before the demons could devour them both

He would be absolutely SHOOKETH at the language she used because she has been nothing but sweet and polite to him. It was like she switched into a whole different person right in front of his eyes

Luke: MC! I knew living with those horrid demons is a bad idea! They’ve corrupted you now!! *crying Luke noises*

MC: Lil buddy, I was born this way

He would definitely feel really touched that MC is so protective of him though, but he would have to tell her to never say those words again, even if she’s trying to protect him

She would (hesitantly) tell him she would try her best but that would literally only last for half a day because another demon has foolishly decided to mess with him with her present

MC is Luke’s mother point blank period.

[c4pricornc4ts]

Where'd the Hours go? - Chapter 3 Dadschlatt College Au

Read it on ao3 here or on my wattpad here!

Other Chapters: 1 ✧ 2 ✧

WARNINGS FOR: Implied Child Neglect, Smoking, Swearing

The toddler was dressed in an oversized green button down that- from the looks of it, was buttoned by the boy himself given that it's uneven. Everything looks so big on him and his hair is a mess. There's a red pacifier in his mouth and he's looking at Schlatt with wide brown eyes.

He's handed a black garbage bag. "What- why did you bring up trash? The bins are outside."

"It's not trash." Leslie nods to Tubbo. "It's his belongings."

Schlatt wakes up to the smell of smoke. He’s fairly confident Quackity did something stupid to set it off but he still hurries to check. He needed to be awake anyways to finish baby proofing the apartment for inspection.

The ram confirmed his suspicions when he saw Quackity in an apron he didn’t even know he owned waving away smoke coming from a pan with something so burnt Schlatt couldn’t even tell what it was.

“Y’know just knocking on my bedroom door would wake me up, no need to try and burn the damn apartment down.”

“Who knew following Ranboo’s cereal video could go so poorly?”

“That was CEREAL?” Schlatt turns back to his soon-to-be shared room, it was too early to figure out how his friend managed that. Though he’s sure there’s a good story behind it.

He gets dressed and goes to clean up the living room, Quackity focusing on trying to fix whatever crime he committed in the kitchen. They talk while they pick up, Quackity telling him what was happening in law school and Schlatt telling him about how he fell up the stairs.

“You fell UP the stairs?”

“Yes, up the stairs. Do you even listen to-”

They freeze when there’s a knock at the door. Quackity going over and shoving him towards it with a whispered “Charm her.” Before the duck makes himself scarce but thankfully, still in sight if Schlatt should need him.

He opens the door, and looks up at the woman who he assumes is the same one over the phone and steps aside to let her in.

“I’m Leslie, we spoke over the phone, yes?” She holds out her hand, shifting her clipboard further into her side.

He stares at her outstretched hand for maybe too long before realizing he’s supposed to shake it. “Yeah, I’m Schlatt that’s- that’s Alex.”

“Do you want something to drink?” Quackity asks from the kitchen, opening several cabinets looking for the cups. He opens Schlatt’s liquor cabinet and freezes, looking back at him sheepishly mouthing ‘sorry.` towards Schlatt

Schlatt tries to laugh it off, turning back to Leslie who just checks something off on her paper.

“Put a lock on it and you’re fine.” She keeps walking around, telling them a few things they might want to do. Things neither of the boys would’ve thought of like covering the open outlets.

She finishes looking around and all three of them sit at the kitchen table, the social worker passing over a custody form and a file.

“By signing this you’ll be granting custody of Tubbo, the form just needs you to promise you’ll put him in a school and allow the system to make house visits.” She passes him a pen while Quackity takes the manila folder and opens it.

“So Ms. Leslie, tell me what I’m looking at here.” Quackity has his nose almost touching the paper trying to read the small text. At the top is a small black and white photo paper clipped to the page.

“It’s nothing bad, as you can see it’s not very full. Just a few notes about his behavior and his birth certificate.” She reaches over and points at the section labeled ‘Additional comments’ “We’re not sure if he can speak, he has screaming fits over seemingly nothing, and is incredibly shy.”

“What do we do if he really can’t talk?” Schlatt pushed the forms back to her, scooting his chair towards Quackity so they could look at the file together.

“You won’t need to worry about that, he’s been through a lot. He most likely just needs some stability. Somewhere where he feels safe enough to express himself.” She puts the now signed form on her clipboard and stands up. “He just needs someone to make him feel loved, then if that doesn’t work we’ll talk about speech therapy.”

Quackity takes the small photo of Tubbo and puts it on the fridge. “Oh my god Schlatt he has little horns!”

Schlatt walks over to the fridge to get a closer look. Sure enough, even though it’s the grainiest picture he’d seen, the horns were clearly poking through the toddlers head. A hand in his mouth and wide eyes looking right at the camera, the resemblance was there.

“Poor kid, must’ve hurt to get those so early.” It hurt him to know he wasn’t there to help his kid through the painful process of growing horns.

“Remember in middle school when I had to bring you your homework because your horns were always hurting?”

“Don’t remind me.” He shuddered at the thought. He’d rather have a migraine everyday then ever go through the pain of growing horns again.

“I’ll bring him by tonight if that’s alright with you?”

“That’s great, we’ll be here.” Schlatt walks her to the door, they add each other into their respective contact lists before she’s headed back down the apartment stairs.

“She can have him here by tonight? Wow, same day delivery.”

“Didn’t you know? CPS is partnered with Amazon these days.”

“Wait, really?” Quackity slams the fridge closed and looks behind him towards Schlatt.

“No, not really, Dumbass.” Schlatt shakes his head and goes to put Tubbo’s file in the designated important stuff drawer. He hears Quackity shuffling behind him, zipping up his bookbag.

“Oh. Well this dumbass needs to go to class.”

“You’ll be done by tonight right?” Of course the duck would fail to mention he had law school today. Schlatt feels a surge of guilt when he thinks about how much stress he must be causing Quackity. He’s already balancing streaming and school, now Schlatt’s gone and dragged him into this mess as well.

“ ‘Course I will be, gotta meet my new godson.” Schlatt hands him his glasses and he’s out the door with a wave and another promise to be home to see Tubbo tonight.

Schlatt sits on the living room couch, editing a video on his laptop. His hands itch for a cigarette but he really doesn’t want a social worker to smell that on him. That’d be responsible of him, right?

He finishes a new jackbox video and passes out on the couch, only to be woken up by Quackity tossing his unreasonably heavy backpack at him. He wheezes and throws the backpack off his stomach, the books inside hitting against each other with several thuds.

“Judging by how you're sleeping right now, I guess Little T isn't here yet."

"We’re not calling him 'Little T' it doesn't even make sense. It implies there's a big T and last I checked there's only a big Q and a Big man. No T." He sits up fully, putting his elbows on his legs and leaning into his hands. He feels the couch dip as Quackity sits next to him.

"When he's big, he'll be big T, but right now he's little. So… little T."

"I'm not calling him that."

"Suit yourself."

He keeps his eyes closed, and listens to the sound of Quackity turning on the television. He never knew what the duck would play, it was always something different and usually chaotic.

The sound of one of Quackity's intros begins to play and Schlatt laughs and pushes a smug Quackity off the couch.

"Give me that remote, you've lost youtube privileges."

Schlatt leans over the couch and reaches for the remote the now floored Quackity is keeping away from him.

"My videos are not bad, and I will in fact be showing Tubbo every single one of them as soon as he gets here."

He pins Quackity's right arm and grabs the remote. He starts to laugh when he falls off the couch, joining Quackity between the coffee table and the couch.

He grips the remote tightly, careful to keep the remote close to him so the duck couldn't snatch it back. They're both sitting on the floor, facing each other with their knees against the couch base.

It's one of Quackity's older videos, Schlatt lets it play.

Another roblox raid video is about to begin when there's a knock at the door. Schlatt turns off the TV and brushes off his clothes before rushing to answer.

"Hello again." He smiles when he sees the face of the same woman that had come by earlier. He looks down and his eyes widen when he sees Tubbo.

The toddler was dressed in an oversized green button down that- from the looks of it, was buttoned by the boy himself given that it's uneven. Everything looks so big on him and his hair is a mess. There's a red pacifier in his mouth and he's looking at Schlatt with wide brown eyes.

He's handed a black garbage bag. "What- why did you bring up trash? The bins are outside."

"It's not trash." Leslie nods to Tubbo. "It's his belongings."

Quackity comes up to the door. He looks at the trash bag and then to the toddler. "I mean, not what I was expecting but really what was I thinking? Not like he'd have a suitcase."

Schlatt takes the makeshift bag and sets it against the crib in his room.

He walks back out to see Leslie now holding Tubbo against her hip talking to Quackity.

The duck is nodding very seriously and copying the way the woman has her arms. Schlatt is confused about what they're doing till she carefully passes Tubbo to Quackity. His smile reaches his eyes when he manages to not drop the boy.

Tubbo doesn't seem as happy to be held, he's leaning away from Quackity and reaching for Leslie. Whining, and clearly very nervous.

Schlatt couldn't blame him, Quackity wasn't known for being careful with anything. He'd be nervous too in the toddler's situation.

"Careful with my kid, I don't want him to get dropped and then never want to be held again before I even get the chance." He walks past Quackity and Tubbo, headed towards the door. Leslie follows him.

“If it’s too much, you can always give him up.” She looks so serious Schlatt can’t look her in the eyes anymore. “Do what’s best for him, don’t let pride keep him somewhere that isn’t meeting his needs.”

Schlatt wonders if this woman was just that good at reading people or if she gives this speech to everybody. He lies through his teeth when he tells her he’d never be too proud to make the right decision. Everyone who has ever met him will tell you he thinks only with his ego.

She leaves, and as soon as he closes the door he lets out the breath he was holding and goes back to the kitchen.

“He’s light, I read that two year olds were hard to carry.”

“Maybe you’re just strong.”

Quackity readjusts so Tubbo is further up his hip. “You know that’s not true. Should we be worried he’s this light?”

Schlatt reaches his hands out, Quackity awkwardly passes Tubbo over to him. He’s no longer whining but rather is just staring at them both with wide eyes.

“Hey buddy, I know it’s a lot to take in.” He pats Tubbo on the back. “What about some dinner? Get you weighing more with a grilled cheese.”

With the help of Quackity they get Tubbo situated in the tiny booster seat. The duck sits next to the boy, handing a small stuffed animal to keep him occupied while Schlatt cooks.

He makes one for each of them and adds some fruit on the side, setting it down in front of the two before going to sit across from them.

Quackity cuts Tubbo’s into smaller bits while the toddler watches with his hand in his mouth. When Quackity finishes he takes his hands away but Tubbo makes no move to eat on his own.

Schlatt and Quackity exchange a look before the duck picks up a small piece and brings it up to Tubbo’s mouth. Gently prying the toddler’s hand away from his mouth.

Tubbo refuses to eat it. Turning away and putting his hand back in his mouth.

“I promise it tastes better than it looks, I only burned it a little bit.” Schlatt encourages him, before reaching over and taking a small piece of Tubbo’s sandwich and eating it. “See? Now you.”

Tubbo smiles a little but continues to suck on his fingers instead. Quackity and Schlatt continue eating thinking of what to try next. He didn’t want to force the kid to eat it, maybe he just didn’t like that food. Kids can be picky.

“What about some juice? Or-or some apple slices?” Quackity finishes his sandwich and goes over to the fridge taking out an apple and a caprisun.

“Quackity is offering you one of his favorite drinks, you should feel honored Tubs.” Maybe the little ram does, it’s hard to tell what he’s feeling when all he does is stare.

The apple is sliced and placed infront of him and Quackity opens the caprisun before his phone rings. “It’s Karl, I forgot I’m supposed to record with him today. Shit, hold on you two.” He goes to his room, leaving Schlatt alone, sitting across from his kid.

He stares at Tubbo, leaning back and folding his hands on the table. They stare at each other for a moment before Tubbo takes his hand out of his mouth and starts to cry.

Schlatt walks over to him and picks him up out of the seat. “No no no don’t do that don’t uh- don’t cry please?” He bounces him and pats his back but it doesn’t seem to help. The kid buries his head on Schlatt’s shoulder and sobs, and Schlatt cringes from the feeling of his slimy hands on his arm and the noise.

“Oh my god, Quackity!”

Quackity rushes out and relaxes when he sees there’s no danger. Besides the idiot in front of him. But he’s more of a danger to himself. “Maybe he’s bored? I’d cry too if I had to just sit and stare at your ugly face.”

“Bro what the fuck?”

“Just put on some of those weird kids youtube videos! Babies cry, Schlatt. It's like- 90% of what they do.”

And that’s how Schlatt ended up on the couch, watching one of those baby sensory videos with a sniffling toddler who still hadn’t eaten a damn thing.

There’s a rainbow bouncing across a black background with some soft music and for a moment Schlatt finds himself just as immersed in it.

Tubbo’s hand is back in his mouth and Schlatt notes he needs to get him something to chew on later, but for now, the poor kid needs a tissue. He leans over to the coffee table to grab one, careful not to disturb the toddler who is currently clinging to his side like a koala.

He wipes his nose, with thankfully no protest from Tubbo. Before taking another tissue and gently wiping the tear tracks away. “It’s gonna be okay, it’s- it’s okay kid.”

Tubbo puts his head against Schlatt's side, and Schlatt props his feet up on the coffee table. Getting comfortable before leaning his head back on the couch.

By the time Quackity was done recording with Karl, which was quite the struggle to do on his laptop, Schlatt and Tubbo were both asleep on the couch. He considers waking them up, but he really didn’t want Tubbo to cry again. So he brings the untouched fruit over to the living room and turns off the TV before bringing his laptop out to the couch and editing quietly next to the two.

He calls it a successful day, after all everyone was alive, right?

[mdawritings]

Wanna Be Yours: Ch. 8

I.VIII

Masterlist

Warnings: This is your reminder that this fic is VERY toxic. This is in no way meant to romanticize the relationship… it is wrong. Hotch should not treat Y/N this way.

Song(s): "W.D.Y.W.F.M?" by The Neighborhood

After leaving Hotch’s apartment this past weekend you thought it would be the last time you break your routine with him. The weekly meetings were working for the two of you. No more surprise late-night visits, no more off-schedule meetings in his office. You would see him every Wednesday like you two agreed and nothing more. It was growing to be too tiring, the constant back and forth with him. One minute he’s displaying his jealousy, the next he’s walking you home to your apartment, talking to you quietly and telling you his favorite color, and then the next he’s kicking you out on your ass barely giving you a second look.

It doesn’t even hit you how tiring the whole routine is until Wednesday rolls around. You had an exam in the morning, for which you felt entirely unprepared because all you did was spend the first two days of the weekend trying to keep your schedule revolving around Hotch’s whims.

You feel a serious migraine coming on as you struggle to maintain your focus on Hotch, who paces back and forth at the front of the lecture hall. Your eyes drift closed, the bright fluorescent lighting managing to aggravate the growing head pain.

"Miss Y/L/N," His deep baritone seems to radiate off every surface in the classroom, intensifying the dull ache in your head. "If you require nap time, please remember this isn’t a daycare or your bedroom. Wake up."

"Sorry, sir," You mutter under your breath, struggling to hold your head up and focus. The words on the whiteboard are blurred, fuzzy through your hazy migraine brain. His eyes linger on you, reading your body language. He knows that something is off. You don’t get all flustered like he expects you to. You barely give him any reaction at all. You swear you see a flash of worry across his face, a small pause in the lecture but if he does it’s barely noticeable and cannot be attributed to your lack of energy at the current moment.

The rest of the class is just as much of a blur as the first half and as you’re packing up your belongings, the deep baritone voice calls out, "Miss Y/L/N, stay back for a second."

Katie shoots you a look, muttering, "Damn, does he ever let you catch a break?"

You shake your head, not having enough energy to muster up a substantial response. You ignore his calls and continue packing up before turning to follow Katie to the door.

"Y/N, he called you," She glances over her shoulder to see you close behind.

"So?" You bring your hand up to rub your temple roughly.

Katie sighs, "Look, I’ll wait for you outside. Just don’t anger him more than you already do. I would like for you to live until your 21st birthday." She teases, managing to put a smile on your face despite your sour attitude.

You squeeze your eyes shut, hoping your mind will clear once they’re open again, but as you turn and open your eyes, Hotch’s piercing gaze sends your thoughts into a scramble. You stand by the door uncomfortably, watching as the last few students file out.

You avoid his eye contact and keep your feet planted firmly in place, knowing that he’s too addicting, too irresistible for you to consider getting any closer to him.

"Y/N, is something wrong?" He glances over you and takes a few steps closer.

As soon as he moves closer, you take a few steps back, "I’m tired today and I need to get to a study session." You’re practically backpedaling all the way out of the classroom.

"Wait, Y/N," He calls and moves a little quicker to get closer to you, "Is there something going on with you that I should know about?"

You push down the small scoff and resist the urge to tell him off. From the way he’s treated you the past few days, he doesn't deserve any information about you. If he wants to show a complete lack of respect for you, there's nothing about your life he ‘should know about.’

"No. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have exams to study for. Goodbye Professor Hotchner." You rush out the words and turn on your heel.

"Wait," He calls after you, "Einstein!" His efforts to stop you are to no avail. You push open the door, hooking your arm in Katie’s, practically dragging her away from his classroom.

"Whoa, slow down, kid," She laughs. You ignore her, continuing to drag her further away from the lecture hall and out of the building onto the quad. "Damn, is he really that bad?" She holds you back, forcing you to slow down.

"I’m so fucking sick and tired of him," You let out a frustrated groan.

"Really?" Katie raises a brow but continues to walk with you towards the small café where you always get lunch. "Huh." She lets out and you turn your attention to her.

"What? Don’t believe me?" You let go of her arm.

She shrugs, "He just seems like the type of guy who’s an asshole in public but actually a smooth talker and charming when you’re alone with him."

It actually pisses you off how right Katie is about him. Except for the fact that he can be an asshole in private too. Especially when he kicks you out of his house at 2 in the morning.

"No matter how charming he is in private, he’s still an asshole the other 50% of the time," You snap, "Come on. I have an exam to study for."

The two of you pick up coffee and some lunch before burying yourselves deep in the stacks in the library. Normally, on a Wednesday, you would be rushing to grab a quick bite for lunch, get some work done as fast as possible so that you could rush back to Hotch’s office for your weekly afternoon meeting. You weren’t planning on blowing him off, at least, not when the day started. But after actually seeing him, you feel no desire to spend an hour with him, letting him enjoy and explore every inch of your body. He doesn’t deserve a minute of your time. But even then, it’s not that simple to blow him off, because despite telling yourself you deserve better, you still find yourself glancing at the clock every few minutes as the time inches closer and closer to 2:00.

Are you pissed at him right now? Yes, but that doesn’t change the way that your heart swells when you think of the time you’ve spent together. For every moment that he’s pissed you off, you can think of another where he’s made you smile and laugh. And for every moment he’s hurt your feelings or bruised your ego, you can think of one where he’s praised your hard work and boosted your confidence. For every moment he’s made you feel unimportant, you can think of one where he’s made you moan, made your toes curl, and made you feel like the most irresistible woman on planet earth.

You bounce your knee repeatedly, and Katie reaches a hand under the table to place over your bouncing leg, trying to calm you down, "You alright, Einstein?" She doesn’t look up from the textbook she’s reading but gives your knee a soft squeeze before letting go.

"Yeah," You glance at the clock again, watching the second-hand pass 12 and the minute hand shift to hover over two, lining up with the hour hand. 2:10 pm. Wednesday 2:10 pm. As if on schedule, you hear your phone buzzing in your bag. You place a hand over your bag, hoping to dull the noise of the vibrations.

But it doesn’t help. You dig around in your bag for the phone and ignore the call before shoving it back in and attempting to turn your focus back down to your notes. Another call. More vibrating.

Once again, Katie speaks without looking up, "You going to get that?"

"No, it’s not important." You fight the urge to check the phone. You already know who it is without looking at it.

"How do you know it’s not important if you don't look at it?" She puts the highlighter down and looks at you. You see her eyes narrow slightly as she makes it extremely obvious she’s trying to read your expression right now.

"I’m sure it’s nothing important," You force your eyes back down onto your notes. Focus, damn it. Just focus on your work.

Your attempts are in vain. Your phone buzzes about 3 more times over the next 20 minutes, which just further concerns Katie, who is now thoroughly convinced you have lost your mind. And maybe you have. You feel off. Your heart aches in your chest. Your mind is in a fog and you can’t think clearly. Every time you start to dive back into studying, your mind wanders back to your professor.

You wonder what he’s doing right now. Is he pacing in his office, waiting for you to walk in the door? Or is he calmly sitting at his desk as if it doesn’t faze him? Does it faze him? Does he even care if you didn’t show up? He’s called you five times already. But maybe it’s not about you. He’s not the type of man that takes no for an answer and he doesn’t like being told what to do. Maybe it’s all about the dynamic. He likes the idea of you as a younger girl fawning over him, worshipping him, hanging onto every last word that comes out of his mouth.

In reality, maybe he doesn’t even care about you at all. He just knows you’re attractive and that’s enough for him.

You want that to be the answer. That would be much easier to swallow. That would be easier to deal with. Knowing that he just wants you for your body is easy to cope with. But there’s something about the little things he does. The way he trusts you with his personal notes. He lets you read his annotations in the novels he lends you. He doesn’t just give you work to do, but he listens to what you have to say, really listens. He makes photocopies of your notes. He lets you annotate in the margins of his books.

You swear that when you crack a joke or make fun of him, you can see a smile spread across his face. Just last week, you teased him about his horrible handwriting, and you could’ve sworn his handwriting was a little neater in the comments of your recent essay.

You feel comfortable around him. He loosens up around you. He’s harsh and unrelenting when it comes to criticism, but he knows you can handle it. He understands you want the truth. You want honesty. You want guidance. He understands that. He seems to understand you better than you know yourself.

So how come you seem to be so in the dark about him? You can never understand his motivations for anything. One minute, he’s scolding you in class, the next he’s praising you in private. He’s inviting you over to his place, but soon after tossing you out. He walks you home, indulges your silly questions, but then makes you feel like an unimportant one-night stand as if he’s only sleeping with you because you’re available to him.

It was the conditional nature of it all: ‘There’s no one else I would sleep with right now anyway’

The words sting. He’s only exclusively sleeping with you because you’re all he has. His only option.

You pull yourself out of your head. Finally turning your attention back onto the notes in front of you. No more wasted energy on Hotch. You have work to get done, and you’re sick and tired of letting him have so much control over you.

You manage to avoid Hotch for the rest of the week. You don’t have his class on Thursday and you know his class schedule well enough to be able to dodge seeing him in the halls or accidentally running into him while meeting with other professors. Even after Wednesday’s migraine fades away, you’re constantly running on low battery. Your brain is mush and your thoughts are unorganized and disjointed.

None of your schoolwork manages to hold your attention. You can’t think clearly anymore and it pisses you off. Even without spending time with Hotch, he’s ruining you. Absolutely, completely, ruining you.

Your depressed mood doesn’t go unnoticed, either. Katie grows so concerned for you that she proposes you both skip your classes on Friday, sleep in, and then have a really fun night, drinking with all your friends. The craziest part of it all? You agree. So you skip class on Friday. Your agreement shocks Katie. She’s happy about it, stating that you need a break and it’s okay to miss class every once in a while, saying "None of the professors even take attendance. They won’t notice that you skipped. And if they do, they know you’re a good student and would only miss class for a valid reason."

But you know that your absence will not go completely unnoticed. You know that your absence in one class, in particular, will not bode well for you. Hotch will inevitably lay into you even harder on Monday in class. He will torture you, embarrass you in front of the whole class for skipping.

Again, you’re sick and tired of letting him have control over you.

"And another one bites the dust!" You tease playfully as you pour the last of the vodka into your cup, "Let me go see if we have a bottle of wine." You stand up from your seat on the floor, giving Katie’s shoulder a small squeeze as you pass by. You step into the kitchen, open the liquor cabinet, and pull out a bottle for you and your friends. Just as you pull out the cork and place the bottle down on the coffee table, there’s a knock at the door. "I’ll get it." You nod.

"I hope it’s not our upstairs neighbors complaining again. We’re not even that loud!" Katie yells and you laugh, knowing that she has no sense of volume and spends mostly every weekend screaming at reality television when the two of you drink a little too much. If you lived above your apartment, you’d be bothered too. You roll your eyes at Katie’s comment and reach forward to open the door.

"Hey sorry about the—" You’re about to start apologizing for the noise when you see him standing there at the door. You let out a small breath, "Charlie." You say softly and he returns a sheepish grin.

He holds up two bottles in his hands and shrugs, "I brought sustenance."

"I didn’t think you would come," You admit honestly, but step aside to let him into your apartment. You hadn’t talked to Charlie in nearly a week. The last time you even spoke to him was right after you made out with him and then ran out on him.

"Well, Katie invited me and I thought it would be the perfect time to apologize for being such an ass last week." He shakes his head. He opens his mouth, probably to continue to apologize but you don’t let him speak.

"No, Charlie, I’m partially to blame," You argue and take the bottles from his hands, "I shouldn’t have kissed you back."

"I didn’t know you were seeing someone, I never would’ve kissed you," You’re just about to step into the living room to rejoin the rest of your friends, but you grab his arm and hold him back a little.

"Wait, what?" He looks down at you with a grin, but your face is twisted into one of horror. Does he know about you and Hotch? Did he see something he wasn’t supposed to?? Hear something?

"Oh come on, Einstein. You’re way more distracted than usual, you’ve got a little extra pep in your step, and you always have a little," He reaches forward hooking a finger into the collar of your shirt, pulling it down slightly to reveal a small fading bruise just at the top of your breasts, "Mark on your neck." He teases.

You smack his hand away, feeling your face grow hot, "I’m not seeing anyone."

"Oh, really?" Charlie smirks, "So why’d you run away from that kiss as if you had just committed an act of adultery?"

You roll your eyes, but laugh a little at his teasing. It’s nice to have one of your best friends back, "I’m not in a relationship." You clarify.

"So you are seeing someone… friends with benefits?" He grins and throws an arm around you.

"Are you asking about the guy or making a proposition for us?" You jokingly flirt back with him, attempting to establish the normal witty banter the two of you usually have together.

"Whichever you’d prefer," He grins and pulls you back to the group, "Now that I’m here, we can get the actual party started." He pulls you down to sit on the floor next to him before reaching to steal your cup and finish it off.

"I’m pretty sure that was mine," You laugh and lean back against him.

"Oh… really? My bad," He shrugs with a sneaky little smirk, before reaching for another cup to pour you both new drinks.

"You just can’t help putting your hands all over things that aren’t yours, huh?" At that, Charlie erupts into loud laughter and your heart surges with happiness. Finally, you’re able to push Hotch from your mind. You forget about him altogether as you spend the night laughing and drinking with friends.

——

You close the door behind your friends, the last of them finally leaving, and lean against the door with a small sigh. "Jesus, I am exhausted. This week has felt like hell on earth," You complain and move towards your living room, dreading cleaning up the myriad of bottles, cups, and food wrappers left behind from the night’s festivities.

"I’m going to shower and immediately pass the fuck out," Katie fights through a yawn, "Don’t worry about the mess. We can clean it up together tomorrow." She waves her hand before turning to walk through the apartment to the bathroom.

"You know I can’t go to bed and leave a mess!" You yell over the sound of the shower water running. You place the last few bottles into the recycling and hear your phone vibrating obnoxiously in the other room. You rush to grab it, only to see the familiar number that you’ve ignored nearly 20 times in the past 3 days.

You slam the phone down frustratedly. You want to see Hotch. More than anything, you want him to wrap his arms around you, pull you close, and kiss you until you’re weak in the knees. Aside from the sex, you have missed his company. He’s intelligent and he sees the complexities of your mind. He makes you smile. You like to think you’re one of the few people who manage to make him smile. He spends so much of the day with his face screwed into that emotionless frown. You like being able to be the person to relieve that tension, whether it’s while you’re on your knees in front of him or simply with a witty, sarcastic remark. But you deserve respect. And you’re tired of settling for anything less from him.

You walk to turn out some of the lights in your living room when you hear your phone buzz on the couch again. You want to ignore it but something inside of you urges you to check the message. You pick up the phone and check the most recent message.

Come outside.

"What the fuck?" You speak softly, worried that Katie will somehow hear you over the roaring shower water. You walk to the window in your living room and pull back the blinds. You glance down at the front of your building. There he is. Aaron Hotchner is standing in front of your building, leaning against his car, staring right back up at you. You glance down at the phone and dial his number.

He picks up quickly, continuing to keep his eyes focused on you through the window, "What the fuck are you doing here?"

"Can you just come down? We need to talk." He tilts his head looking up at you and gestures for you to come down.

"Isn’t it obvious I don’t feel like talking to you right now?" You want to shut the blinds and hang up but you get the feeling Hotch isn’t going to take no for an answer.

"Just come down. I’m not having this conversation over the phone." He runs a hand through his hair, messing with it slightly. You can see he’s in casual sweats and a t-shirt.

"Oh, I wasn’t aware there was going to be a conversation." There’s a pause as you both stare back at each other. Your chest rises and falls rapidly as the tension and anger build up inside you. He’s managed to ruin a perfect night with your friends. How does he manage to invade every moment of your life? "This is creepy, Hotch. You can’t just show up to my apartment like this."

"I’m not talking over the phone. If you want to yell at me or scold me or something you’re going to have to come down here to do it." He shakes his head disapprovingly and stands up from the way he was leaning on the car, taking a firmer stance with you.

"Hotch—" Before you can get another word out, he hangs up on you. You glare down at him, and he simply shrugs, crossing his arms across his chest. By the time you make it down the stairs and out the front door of your apartment complex, you’re absolutely seething with rage.

"You cannot be here. You cannot just show up here whenever you want and expect me to be okay with that." You storm out to meet him, wrapping your arms around your body defensively. You keep your distance, worried about what you’ll do if you or he get too close to one another. It has been nearly a week since you’ve had your hands on him and you’re convinced the irrational, hormone-driven part of you will dominate once you get one whiff of his cologne.

"Why’d you blow me off? Why haven’t you been answering my calls? You didn’t even show up to class today. I was worried," He seems genuinely concerned, his eyes running over your body, almost as if he’s checking you for injury.

You’re not even sure how to respond, only managing to get out, "Worried?"

"It’s not like you to skip class. I figured out pretty quickly you were mad at me, for some reason that I haven’t been able to decipher, but I didn’t expect you to resort to skipping class." He takes a few steps towards you, and you curse yourself for not maintaining the distance between the two of you. From here, you can see a little more dep[th in those beautiful brown eyes of his, and you can see the way his arms tense and strain a little against his jacket.

"For some reason?" You scoff, "Are you really that blind to the impact of your own actions?

Hotch glances away for a second, frustrated with you, letting out a long breath, "Look, Y/N, I don’t know what you expect from me." He talks with his hands, expressing the sentiment that he’s exasperated with you as if you’re being ridiculous.

"I expect you to treat me with a little bit of respect, Aaron," You have to be firm with him. You’re not going to let him manipulate you or walk all over you.

"I respect you." He states simply.

"You threw me out at two in the morning." You point out and you see his firm demeanor falter a little.

"I offered to call you a car." You chuckle bitterly and shake your head at his responses. You know he’s not stupid. He’s actually one of the smartest people you’ve ever met. He can usually read you so well, what is so confusing about this that he can’t get it through his dense head?

"You told me there was no one else you’d want to sleep with. The only reason I’m the only woman you’re sleeping with is that there’s no one else you want to sleep with." You’re struggling to keep your voice steady and calm, but you feel your voice tremble a little as the pain in your chest increases, recalling the events of the past weekend. You’re fighting to keep from letting him see how much his words have hurt you. You don’t want him to think you’re too emotionally invested, but you also don’t want him to get away with hurting you.

Hotch swallows. He clenches his jaw. He realizes. He knows what he said and he knows what it meant. "I told you I haven’t slept with anyone but you."

You roll your eyes. He’s clearly not getting it. "But would you? If given the chance, would you sleep with someone else?"

Hotch hesitates. That hesitation is enough confirmation for you. "Go home, Aaron," You let out frustratedly and turn to walk inside. He catches your wrist and pulls you back around for a kiss. You melt against him a little, forgetting just how much he makes you go weak in the knees. You haven’t felt his touch in nearly a week and it shows in the way you’re completely surrendering yourself to him in seconds. But you pull away for a second to catch your breath, realizing you can’t just get sucked back into him again.

You sigh, "You can’t just kiss me to get me to stop talking."

He kisses you again, a little softer this time, running his hands up to cup your face, thumbs running over your cheeks lightly. You start to pull away again. "I don’t want to sleep with anyone else." He breathes against your lips. "I just want you. No one else. You’re all I need."

And just like that, you’re falling into him all over again. The promise of some form of exclusivity, some amount of commitment to you, manages to soften your anger. It dulls your frustration. In all honesty, it hurt you to be away from him for a week. You feel lost without his company and now, in this moment, the haze that you had been living in for the past week has seemed to lift. The fog in your brain clears, you feel a little less disorganized. You can think clearly again.

"I only want you too," You let out before pulling him close for a heated kiss. His hands roam your body hungrily and you press into him, your pillowy breasts pushing against his firm chest. His scent invading your senses, his hands gripping your face.

"I have—" You speak between heated kisses, "I have to go back inside. Katie," You pause to let out a soft moan as Hotch’s lips leave yours and travel under your jaw, "Katie is inside." You manage to tear yourself away from him, "You have to go, someone might see you here." You nod, "I’ll see you Monday."

He nods in response and you turn to walk up the steps to your door, and just like that night he walked you home, he calls out to you before you get to the door, "Einstein!" He comes running up to you, placing one last kiss on your lips, "I’m sorry." He says it so softly you barely catch it. There’s a moment. A pause. After he says it, he stands there. His hands on your cheeks, holding your face in place so that he can look down into your eyes. And when you look up at him, you get the sense he genuinely means it. He doesn’t want to hurt you. You stand there, both looking at each other for a moment. But the moment is fleeting. He soon turns and walks back to his car before you can fully process the apology. You turn into the building, taking your time to walk up the steps, wanting to savor the euphoric feeling that comes with Hotch's presence.

You step back into your apartment closing the door behind you, pausing to take a slow breath in. Your heart is still racing after that kiss. Just like that, Hotch has managed to suck you back in. His soft words, his rough hands on your body, his mouth warm moving against yours. The warning signs are there. You know you need to stay away, but he’s just so fucking mesmerizing. There’s something so exhilarating about risking it all, about sneaking around with him. Something about the stolen glances in class and the heated midnight kisses. You take another second to catch your breath before turning around.

"Why was Professor Hotchner outside our apartment?" Katie has her arms crossed against her chest, her hair dripping onto her shirt from the shower, "And why the fuck were you kissing him?"

Chapter 9: I.IX →

[artxyra]

Healing Gotham | Part 1

Prologue 

Tim was having an off day. At first he had thought it was due to him surviving off of weeks’ worth of caffeine, but that was not it—not it at all. When Tim had first arrived at Wayne Enterprise, all of its employees were having a rush. Paperwork was thrown around, gather, shredded within seconds of each other. The young co-CEO couldn’t find it in him to care enough until it was lunchtime. An older employee was going around collecting NDA’s from all the new employees—like that wasn’t an everyday experience. Tim had half the brain capacity to contact Bruce for information, and yet he doesn’t do it.

Then Tim returns to the manor, cars from his extended siblings, and family members parked within the gates. Once again, this was not an unusual sight for the coffee addict. Well, it wasn’t an unusual sight until he stepped into the manor.

On one of the couches sat Steph, Cass, and Damian all looking to the people on the other side of the room. Kate stands leaning against the window waiting for the shoe to drop. Tim didn’t know where to sit. He only had two options: sit beside the mess of his older brothers or sit where there was the least amount of space next to his other siblings.

Finally taking in his environment, he notices something scary. Jason and Dick weren’t in their usual moods aka brooding and dramatic but on the verge of a massive mental breakdown. Jason was clutching his hair staring down at his lap repeating the words, “She’s going to kill me” as if it was the end of the world. Dick was mimicking the words with “Not if she kills me first, I’m too young to die”. This was such a shock, that Tim had to take a long sip of coffee to make sure it was true, and even then he had to pinch himself as a reminder that he was awake.

“Master Tim, the amount of caffeine you are consuming is terrible. Perhaps taking a rest would help.” Alfred offers with little room to negotiate, but Tim swears he is fine to which the family butler did not believe. “Uh-huh…” Taking the thermos out of Tim’s hand, the young co-CEO is left with nothing.

“You’re seeing this too, right? Tim asks his siblings that weren’t in the Wayne family as long as the older two. Steph is simply recording the nature of their situation—probably blackmail material for her and Barbara. Cass simply examines her older siblings wondering what has gotten into their heads. She was sure that Bruce was internally panicking based on his fingers tapping against his suit jacket and constant inching to the couch. Looking beside her, it was obvious that Damian hates being out of the loop and was moments away from exploding. Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to sit beside Damian for this family meeting.

“What has gotten you three so worked up?” Kate asks from the safety of her position. Watching the three break down may be fun and all, but she had a life to live also outside of her cousin’s BS.

“Master Bruce now would be the best time to explain our situation,” Alfred suggests coming back into the room with a tray of teacups and a pot of tea. The butler knows the family is going to need it after dropping a bomb like this to the newest Waynes.

As much as Alfred was right, Bruce knew he couldn’t keep this hidden. He can already tell that Damian was seconds away from stabbing Dick or Jason for being in such an off-putting mood. Tim would be forever confused until he gets a good rest, Cass may like having someone other then him to talk to, and Steph—well Steph will just be Steph.

Bruce was so deep in thought that he didn’t acknowledge the peak of Jason’s and Dick’s mental break down.

“She’s going to kill me…I would rather face the Joker than be on the receiving end of her anger.” Jason finally speaks something than the mantra he has been chanting for the past hour.

“Here’s how she’ll do it, kill Bruce, then me, and then you. Alfred’s safe because it’s Alfred.” Dick adds pointing to each person he has mentioned, furthering the family’s confusion.  Kate, on the other hand, received the message loud and clear and end up bursting into laughter.

“Good to know you find humor in our incoming deaths, Katie,” Dick says pouting with arms crossed against his chest.

“What is Kane laughing about, Father?” Damian asks with a dangerous intent beneath his words.

“In just a couple of days, the Manor Wayne is welcoming an old visitor…my sister… your aunt.” Bruce finally speaks with a heavy sigh. It was if he was preparing for the mental battle this family is about to go through.

“Sister?” “Aunt?” “What?” Various amounts of reactions echo across the room. Every one of his children that had no clue about the oldest Wayne’s sister was just given a wake-up call.

“Yes, I have a sister. She’s my younger sister, and she’ll be staying at the Manor until she finds herself her own place, and this is if she decides to move to Gotham permanently.” Bruce then adds.

“You mean she’s staying here?” Damian cries out, he already hates the fact that most his siblings typically stay in and out of the manor, but to have a new resident just screams trouble.

“Yes, which also means we all need to keep our nightly activities on the down-low. Marin Etta has no idea that I am Batman or that Dick and Jason were Robin, and I like to keep it that way. This means Jason, no bringing anything related to the Gotham Underground, Dick you do what you’ve always done. The rest you better be on your best behavior.”

“Well this is the best news; I haven’t seen Mars since the wedding and that was five years ago.” Kate pushes herself off the wall and goes to hug Bruce. “Call me when she arrives, it will be nice to have a girls’ trip or something.”

“Katie…” Bruce sighs but the look on his cousin’s face says otherwise and it was best to leave this alone. “I will.”

Once Kate was out of the room, Damian loudly growls. “I don’t like this.”

“For once I agree with the Demon Spawn,” Tim says, though in Tim’s mind he wasn’t sure what was happening. His brain acknowledges Kate leaving but the moments before seem like a dazed.

“Tim, you okay?” Steph asks as the person in question sway. “Better yet when was the last time you slept?” She receives no answer from the in and out of the conscious male.

“Why are we just now hearing about this so-called sister.” Damian questions as if he was the only person sane in the household—which he’s not. It’s not like he’s trying to gain as much information about this aunt of his so that he could look her up and do a background check. That is totally what he will be doing.

Bruce, seeming to ignore Damian’s underlying intent, sighs and reply with, “She and I had a fall out when Jason died, and we barely speak. This is the first time in a while that she’ll be back.”

“Sounds like a you problem.” Cass murmurs under her breath evading all the glances her way. It’ll be nice to have seen someone other than her adopted family, but at the same time just how will this new person fit into their family.

“Better yet why do Grayson and Todd know about her while the rest of us don’t?” Damian asks gesturing to his other siblings. “You have no photos of the woman, so why must I believe that you have a sister.” From this Bruce could feel a migraine coming in the longer this goes on.

“Look, Little D, Mari is like a sister or a mother figure to Jason and I. There are reasons outside of this room as to why she is so well hidden. You know that room that Bruce forbids anyone from going into?” Dick replies instead of Bruce. Both he and Jason need to wrap up this conversation to prep for their incoming deaths by Mari. He was definitely sure that Bruce was about to do the same and Mari-proof the manor’s access to the Batcave.

“Na’am,” Damian says begrudgingly.

“That’s Mari’s room and will forever be her wing until she no longer needs it.” Dick finishes off his statement, which clearly did not do anything for the youngest Wayne. He then turns to Jason who was in less of a panic but in more of a defensive planning stage. “C’mon Jaybird, we have lots of pre-death planning before Sunshine returns to the Gotham.”

“Once again, I rather die by the Joker than by her, B-man you owe us so much for this,” Jason states before walking out the living room with Dick following behind.

Bruce sighs heavily and returns to his remaining children, well those that are still awake. Tim had passed out and will most likely be for the time being.

“Father…”

“Not now Damian. I will answer the rest of your questions later. I have a sister-proofing mission to handle.” With that Bruce takes his leave.

“This family can never be normal could it?” Steph wonders as she picks up Tim and places him over her shoulder.

“I agree with you on that. Need a hand?” Cass responds looking at the failing form of Steph’s body as she lugs Tim over to the entranceway.

“Nope, I’m fine,” Steph replies before she and Tim disappear into the shadows of the manor.

“I still think this is a bad idea,” Damian states crossing his arms and taking his leave also.

Cass stares at the leaving figure of her younger brother and shakes her head. She knows that Damian would not leave this alone until he hits rock bottom. Let that be her mysterious aunt herself or Bruce making his word-final.

A couple days later at the Gotham City Airport, a woman with a concave bob hairstyle stands outside the pickup area with her three suitcases next to her. Bing. She looks down to see the name Alfred popping up against the screen.

“Yes Alfred, I’m here… I’m still at the airport. No, you don’t need to give me a—” She pauses allowing the Wayne family butler to reply. “Alright, I’ll see you in a few.”  With that, she ends the conversation and places the phone in her back pocket.

This person is nonother than Marin Etta Martha Wayne or as the people in Paris, France calls her Marinette Martha Dupain-Cheng Couffaine.

Part 2 >>

Tag List: *View my Tagging System guidelines for how to to be properly tagged or removed.

Permanent Tag List: @vixen-uchiha | @i-is-mysterious | @kuroko26 | @maribat-is-lifeblood | @marinettepotterandplagg | @loveswifi | @ladybug-182 | @novaloptr | @elijahcrevan | @rebecarojas07 | @nanakeid | @mystery-5-5 | @sparkle9510 | @aestheticnpoetic | @toodaloo-kangaroo | @more-or-less-human-i-guess | @crazylittlemunchkin | @softlysobbingpostendgame | @purplesundaze | @fantasyloversblog | @susiej1118 | @chocolateherringtacofan | @tog84 | @thequeenofpotatoeunicornss | @slytherinhquinn | @i-wanna-be-a-ninja | @abrx2002 | @agumon1123 | @throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen

Unspecific Tag List: @g-arya | @jardimazul | @jeminiikrystal | @zalladane | @bluerosette23 | @dast218 | @midnighttreesgaming | @myazael | @pepelachanel | @storyecho | @thezestywalru |

Specific Tag List: @nach0ava | @moonlightstar64 | @pirats-pizzacanninibles | @elmokingkong |

[dreamiesdotcom]

rule #6 | l.dh

Summary: With Donghyuck, growing to love feels like a black hole, but not the depressing kind. Rather, it's something hard to get away from — like a force, a very strong force that allows no escape, and it's incredibly luminous as if going supernova.

Word Count: 3.5k

a/n: hi, this is moon from somewhere august, scheduling this post before i chicken out again :D by the time it's posted, it's already Christmas so,,, merry christmas y'all who celebrate!!!! Lots of love!!!

Just like most things involving Donghyuck, falling in love with him isn't such a good idea.

That was way too sped up, though. The best way to start this story, of course, is from the very beginning— the day human migraine number one (a.k.a Jaemin) decided to bring in evil genius Huang Renjun to the circle. That would've been fine. It just so happened that beside him sat the devil incarnate, Lee Donghyuck, and that, well, is totally all four directions far away from what's acceptable.

Rule number one to surviving this life thing: Never trust cute boys with sunshine smiles and mischief in their eyes, a.k.a Donghyuck, or Haechan, whatever name he decided to go by. That's why when he reaches his hands out over the table to your direction, you quickly dismiss his attempt — "Hi! I haven't met you yet, did you skip first period? You're Y/N, ri—"

"Please never speak to me." was your reply then, and human migraine number two (a.k.a Chenle) laughs. Jaemin nags for the rest of the break, talking about manners and getting along. The fools nod alongside him. You grumble, moody for no reason and feeling particularly mean, but you warmly smile at Mark when he arrives at your table. Somewhere along the lines, you met stares with the new boy, and you give him an indifferent look.

Donghyuck took the nonchalance as a challenge.

###

The following weeks have been infuriating.

Rule #2: At all times, seek Lee Jeno's company. Unreliable as he seems when it comes to patience, the boy is quite reasonable sometimes.

Your windows align with the sweet-faced boy, your roofs almost touching — if you tried hard enough, you two could sit together, side by side, just like this. Cold wind blows, but it doesn't make you shiver. Jeno's warm, and maybe that's why you love cuddling with him so much. Maybe.

Just maybe, that could be the reason.

"I can't hear what you're saying," he slowly says, laughter seeping through his lips. You whine at that, moving away so he could see you and you could speak clearly. His hand remains holding your chin up, endearing in a soft way, but it doesn't wash away your frown. "What were you saying?"

You groan, "I said, he's so annoying! The audacity, Lee Jeno, he had the audacity to call me ba—"

Jeno watches you with tender eyes. Your heart softens, and you forget whatever next words you had to say. Maybe things will be okay? He's here, after all. Just right next door.

At least, something is going right.

###

This new boy, it seems, is appealing to many. During his first week, people have constantly trying to 'show him around', and that excuse doesn't die down until one month. From then on, people just keep following him around with "Good morning, Haechan!", "Goodbye, Haechan!" and "How was the weekends for you, Haechan-ssi?"

To be honest, it's something you had to grow used to even way before the showed up. Having Na Jaemin and Mark Lee from the Basketball team in your circle just really has a way of putting the spotlight on your lunch table. Not to mention, Renjun, Jeno, and Jisung, who despite being quiet, just has a certain charm to them — Jaemin's words, not yours. And oh, don't even get started on Chenle. That boy is a social butterfly.

The difference is that he keeps entertaining them, unlike the others who awkwardly laughs or just greets back — safe to say that sometimes, the 'goodness' of his heart gets in the way of your education and daily life. Times just like this.

Jisung's name shines brightly at the top of the list. You cling to the boy excitedly, pinching his cheeks and slightly bouncing on your heels, "You made it on the dance team, Sungie! Oh my God, oh my Go—"

"Y/N..." he drawls out, both hands resting on your shoulder as if to calm you down, but the excitement in his eyes betrays his intentions. On the other side, Renjun waves at you with the others. It makes you chuckle, and you motion for them come — that is, of course, until someone pushes you, almost sending you to the ground if not for Jisung catching you midfall.

The girl furrows her brows, "Move, you're blocking the way."

Your palms itch at that moment, and you couldn't believe just what you heard — the nerve!

"Where's your manners?" rings Donghyuck's voice from where he's slowly making way towards you with the others, a grimace on each of their faces. Attitude seeps from his gaze, the kind that would've made someone quiver. "Don't go around pushing people."

"Wh—"

"Stop." you clench your hands to fists, thanking Jisung before straightening up. Through gritted teeth, you calmly look at the girl with a scowl on her face. "Look, I'm sorry, but can you politely ask me to move next time? That's be appreciated, thank you."

After bidding the others a small smile, you turn around to make your way to the library. What? For peace? For space? Just to be as far away from the boy following you right now as possible? You don't even know at this point. You feel like your celebration is ruined and all you want is distance from the person you dislike the most — to be honest, you don't know anything about him aside from the fact that he's Lee Donghyuck and that he's annoying, and that you automatically hate him. You don't plan on knowing more. That's why before entering the library, you turn around to face him with a solemn look.

"Thank you." he halts in shock. His smile widens, but you look at him with the same seriousness in your face. "But don't do it again. I don't need saving, Lee Donghyuck."

Later that night, you grit your teeth as you write down another rule: Say your gratitude but don't get used to the way he saves you. You're not a damsel. Just hand the goddamn sword or you'll be fine with your fists — maybe your eyes for daggers, too.

####

Rule #3: Never go to him for comfort.

22nd of April, 10:35 p.m. You close your eyes and wait. The clock hits eleven and you open the door for the others, greeting everyone with a cheerful smile. "Where's Jaemin?"

Mark shrugs, "Said he has an essay. He'll be late for a bit, but he'll make it before 12."

23rd of April, 12:00 a.m, your heartbeat races. Everything's all set, everyone's in the living room. You take out your phone with a giggle, typing out 'Happy Birthday, dummy!!!' with the biggest grin on your face. Jisung judges you slightly, but he quickly forgets it when a taunting yell from Renjun comes. You sit in the kitchen, staring at the delicately decorated cake, and you wait.

One hour turns to two, then three. Your smile fades slightly, and you check your phone for replies. When nothing comes, you click over his contact shakily.

To: Star <3

Happy Birthday, dummy!!!

Hey, Jen? You're one door away from me and yet you're an hour late.

Birthday boy, you're not ditching us on your own celebration, aren't ya?

When are you coming over ;-;

From: Star <3

I'm sorry!!!

Sorry but I'll be late!

Jaeminnie really needs my help with something.

We'll be there! I'm sorry, Y/N

Your smile disappears. Sullenly making your way to the living room, you count your steps to keep your ground. You look at the others in front of you with a smile, "Go start the movie, I'll wait for Jeno and Jaemin outside. Deal?"

"Sure." Chenle chirps, his grin never fading. Must be because of cheating his way through besting Jisung, Donghyuck, Mark, and Renjun at Monopoly for the past three hours, probably ruining their friendship. Oblivious to the world, Renjun grumbles something about Jeno never being punctual, that he'd pray that trait onto him as a birthday gift. You glance at them before heading back outside, sitting down outside your door, head in between your knees.

A tear. Maybe two. Is this how heartbreak feels like? The kind of crying where you can't even make a sound because people could hear, but then even your teardrops seem to be so loud.

The door opens and you put your head up, hurriedly wiping them away. You put on your best smile until Donghyuck occupies the space beside you. He hands you a handkerchief.

"Don't," he whispers when you obviously hold down a sob, and he leans you on his chest. You cry freely there — you don't know why you let him of all people, but all you know was that you couldn't think straight; desperation blooms on your chest like fresh flowers die over time, and he doesn't judge. He just holds you — no cheesy pet name, no flirty looks, no catch. Just someone to be with.

At 4 a.m with Lee Donghyuck, the starless sky and the moon all alone looks a little less lonely. In front of you, the sun begins to rise.

##

Rule #4: Aaaaand if you don't follow the preceding rule, then, you're fucked. This is your mess. Good luck, you're alone on this one.

After Jeno's birthday (and after he made up to you, he spent a month doing that.) something just begins to change. A pleasant shift, according to Mark.

From that day, something in you says that maybe, just maybe, he's not so bad and you were just unfair to him. This realization must be something brought by time; slowly, you got used to Renjun and Hyuck being a part of your circle. These tutoring sessions must be a factor as well, judging how to two get to spend time alone in the same table as you can't possibly study with the others around you.

Donghyuck would do anything to evade mathematics, though. At least that's what it looks like right now, as he doodles around the margins instead of solving the problems, and then opens a topic, "Nana and Jisung looks cute together. Should've known they wouldn't be serious with each other, him and Jeno."

You roll your eyes, but not the way you did back then. It's way softer, much more affectionate. "It's been a year, let them be."

"So what? It's only been a year." he seems really determined to waste time. He even makes a show of briefly making eye contact before pouting at the paper, "You and Jeno still pretend to be just friends, but the whole school's just waiting for you two to kiss."

You chuckle, "We don't."

"You do."

"Used to." you correct. You look over to the other table, Jaemin and Jeno throwing a banter while Jisung begs them to stop before Renjun smacks them all with a book. You gaze down the notes you're studying before shrugging, "Things change."

"Example?" he tentatively asks, absentmindedly tracing the letters and numbers scattered around his notebook. You rest your chin on your palm.

"Well, now, I might like you." because honestly, you do. He's a great company, although sometimes overwhelming and annoying. Especially that most of the time when he's with Jaemin, they brew the worst ideas together and it's pretty much storm from there.

It would be a lie to say that it's not one of the things that makes you feel warm, slowly growing fond. Your voice softens as he tilts up to meet your gaze, and you flash him a saccharine smile. "Soon, it might not be because you're my friend."

Things like this make you feel like you've missed everything with Jeno, all the things you both could've had; it's like you should've been like this. It's like you should've been holding hands, or walking down the streets, or sitting on a rooftop and asking for a kiss. The kind that would send a rush of energy on your veins, shaking you back to life, losing you to the dream that is the way his lips move against you. But best friends don't do that, so you don't.

Hyuck is not Jeno, though. He's not your best friend.

With Donghyuck, growing to love feels like a black hole, but not the depressing kind. Rather, it's something hard to get away from — like a force, a very strong force that allows no escape, and it's incredibly luminous as if going supernova.

###

Rule #5: Well, seems like you can't back out now. Love him. Love him so much that the sunshine in his eyes never fades.

"Why are we celebrating Mark's last day in town?" Donghyuck sits down in the living room, looking around at the place — balloons, snacks, a cake, everyone in your friend group. He sets down his gift, "Are we that glad that he's leaving?"

Mark huffs, "You'd fucking cry once you miss me and I'm cities away, Lee Donghyuck."

"I won't miss you because I'm coming over to your dorm every day and I'm dragging everyone with me." Donghyuck smiles and even when Mark shoves him a little at that, everyone knows that he's happy the younger said that. He flashes his sly smile, "You, however... ah, what do we do? Mark might miss me so much he fails three subjects."

Everyone cackles at that, and Mark only raises his arms at surrender, saying something about not joking like that because he's honestly 'terrified to start hell', wanting to just stay here and finish school with all of you, ranting about how troublesome it is to transfer. You lean back on your loveseat, lightly kicking Hyuck's feet. "What?"

"You talk like this but you'd sulk tomorrow, wouldn't you?" You taunt, snickering. "This is false advertising."

Donghyuck gapes as the others fall over laughing. "Oi, are you trying to help me fill out all the ten reasons I hate you?"

"You have only ten for me?" you add, and for some reason, that makes the others laugh harder. "I have a hundred for you, Hyuckie."

"I could write you thousands—"

Jeno scrunches his face, hands moving to cover Donghyuck's mouth. "Just please go kiss each other."

Donghyuck tears away from his hold, rolls his eyes, and waves goodbye. He tugs you away from Jaemin and then leads you upstairs, but not before one last banter with Jeno, who, in his all confused expression, tilts his head in question, "Ya, where are you going?"

"I'm not kissing Y/N in front of you fools."

And true to his word, that's what he does.

Donghyuck smiles like the world is kind, like unending unconditional love, without boundaries nor fears. He kisses like that, too, passionate and deep. He does it like it's the end of the world, as if it's the only thing he wants to do. He does it like he's thanking every single thing that led him up to this moment. He kissed you under those stars in his balcony, a hand warm on your waist with the other softly caressing your jaw, and it seemed like it lasted forever.

Because that's the truth. The last time never feels like the last time. There had to be more to this than what the skies have laid down.

Inside your dreamy little mind, Donghyuck was eternal and the love you shared was forever. That's what happened. You thought you had forever.

You thought you had forever, but you didn't.

###

Rule #6: But that won't make him stay if he's bound to leave. Accept that and love him, still. Love him through the rain.

"Lee Jeno tripped!" yells Chenle's loud voice, gaining the attention of everybody in the room, "And fell in love with Y/N, totally whipped that they can't even shop separately!"

"Hell, Chenle, where's your mute button?" Renjun hissed, "We gotta buy presents too. Who decided to do this so late, though? It's the 24th! You guys should've done it weeks ago!"

"Let's go?" Jeno asks, blatantly ignoring Renjun as he waits for you to take his hands. You smirk, waving the folded paper to the others after entwining fingers with him.

"Bye, losers! See y'all later~" you wink. Before being dragged out the Cafe, you point at your friends' direction "Whoever had my name better give me a decent gift, or Christmas is cancelled!"

"Baby, stop that," he asks, squeezing your hands to make you calm down. Your laugh even louder. He smiles, "Who did you get?"

"Hey, Lee, you don't get special treatment just because I'm dating you. It's a secret." you roll your eyes, a skip in your step even though the weather is cold. Jeno steals a peck on your cheeks, and your eyes widen. "Lee Jeno!"

Before you could even catch him, he's already running away from you, and you're almost falling over laughing as you try to catch up to him. He meets you at the end, in front of a busy mall, and catches you with a hug. You laugh on his chest, warm against his hold.

If memories come washing over you, no one has to know. Jeno looks lovely against white. He feels like art on a Christmas day, so beautiful and warm and special. That's all that matters.

"We agreed that we wouldn't try..." Donghyuck whispers, arms around you, "if things will get too harsh on the other, didn't we?"

"Yeah... if I was to leave, Hyuck, I don't want you waiting on me." you responded, half-asleep and sincere, "But I'm only saying it because I'm not leaving."

Donghyuck laughed, "Well, just making sure that if that happens, we'll meet again, yeah?"

"Hyuck, shut up. Nobody's leaving." you groaned, stirring at the joyful yelling downstairs. "Looks like it's 12 already. Merry Christmas, baby."

"Mhm, Merry Christmas. I love you." He smiles, leaves a slow, gentle kiss on your lips. "I love you. I'll love you even more this year."

Does moving away without a word count as loving someone more than you did the past year?

"You're spacing out." Jeno smiles, "Am I that handsome?"

"You always are. Stunning." you quickly reply, a little guilty. You enter the busy room and part ways so that you could shop for your gifts, but not before deciding on a meeting point and leaving a sweet, loving kiss. "Come back, yeah?"

"Of course." he nods before parting ways. Your heart remains at peace — as planned, at the end of the day, Jeno would come back to you at the entrance. He won't leave like the other did. He won't do that to you...

Two hours before Christmas, you sit down on your own for a bit, occasionally distracted by the noise. At their loudness, you can make out Mark trying to calm everybody down, Jaemin threatening murder to keep Jisung and Mark away from the kitchen, Jeno convincing Chenle to get a dog. As you write down their yearly letters, you can't get rid of the smile on your face.

Why they decided to spend this holiday at yours, you don't really understand. Can't say you're against it, though. It's perfect; the tree all of you built together, the presents, the games you'll spend the night playing. The friendship.

Only that someone's missing. As if to lessen the pain, you write his name down on the paper — except it's not a new one, but rather, the page you've been foolishly writing your rules on; the rules that never stood a chance to save you. You trace your hands over the words, but you quickly shake nostalgia away as you turn the page over.

Hello, Donghyuck-ah!

You know the drill. For some time, you received some of my letters, didn't you? After all, we spent some years together... as enemies, as friends, as lovers. You probably memorized how it goes: I'll dwell on the year, I'll tell you how I chose your gift, I'll try to say how much I adore you, and then I'll thank you for being here.

Unfortunately this time, I can't tell you how our year went... I didn't spend it with you. I wasn't able to get you a gift, too, because I don't know if your preferences changed. And I can't thank you for being here. I can't because you're not.

Though I could still tell you that I love you, now it's kind of different. It's less of something that desperately needs you, and more of the kind that longs for you. Jeno and I got together at last. It's complicated how we happened, but we gave it a try and... just. That. You won't read this, but I still want you to know... even if this will never reach you.

Remember that we said that we'll meet again? Well, where are you? Are you happy? How's life been, miles away from home, from your friends, Hyuck-ah?

Merry Christmas. I hope you're happy.

I hope you are, of course, I do. I want you to be happy, I do. I can't wish for anything more — I want you to be happy... just that I hope you're sad sometimes, too, just like me... because of me. I want your heart to break sometimes too. I want you to cry sometimes too. In those empty spaces, I want you to remember me.

And I know you won't do any of that, but in my twisted imagination, you do. And you are.

You're the happiest you could be, but not that much — not happy enough that you'd forget me.

[sh1tbird-shantytown]

What’s with the Goats, Steve?

Billy had never actually been in the Harrington house. But he knew what the rest pretty much looked like. The red door, the rectangle windows, the big shed by the pool that held exercise equipment. The outside of house was chic. It was clean and well trimmed and pigmented. Something a wealthy boy like Steve would assumingly live in. Billy knew it all on the outside. But he’d never been inside the house. No matter how many times he’d dropped Steve off after their shifts at work. He’d never been invited in. And contrary to popular belief, Billy wasn’t one to normally barge into someone’s home without reason.

He was aware of the key under the little blue gnome out back. How Steve himself had started the little petunia garden out front. How the pool was cleaned but closed off and Steve wouldn’t even look at it. He even knew about the rabbit Steve had had as a little kid that was buried under the pine tree sapling. He also knew that the bunny’s name had been Checkers.

Steve was a talker what could he say. If you’d listen he’d babble on and on. Billy could be the same way, but listening to Steve Harrington’s fond memories was a little more to his liking. Oddly.

But recently the BMW had been in some nasty encounter with a buck and was, so far, permanently parked in the Harrington’s driveway with a shattered windshield and craters in the hood. He swore one of the headlights hung out slightly too.

Steve had been distraught for days. Billy had to actually ask Dustin to help them revive Steve’s dopey side. Not to mention how the thing had already begun to run out of luck after so many days of carpooling the kids and rolling over stray demodogs. So, Billy and Robin picked him up when he needed to be somewhere. It was mostly to and from work and it was usually Billy even though Robin and Steve worked at the same place.

By this point Billy was sure Robin already knew what was up. Billy knew he wasn’t subtle. But Steve was also very...dense. And he also couldn’t tell when a person was interested apparently. His technique throughout life had always been 1.) tease and flirt 2.) hope for good a response 3.) ask out 4.) relationship. While Billy’s had always been 1.) flirt 2.) wait for them to flirt back 3.) wait for them to make the next move and 4.) take it from there.

Billy had been making light and flirtations notions all week and Steve gave them right back with vigor. But it was taking Steve an awful long time to take the next step. Billy didn’t think he’d be able to do it himself. Didn’t want to lose what he had if things shifted the wrong way. Steve was just about the best friend Billy had ever had.

Billy stopped in front of Steve’s driveway per usual on a warm and breezy spring day in April.

Steve looked at his house and then back at Billy with a contemplative look to his eye, “You gonna drive up the rest of the way?”

Billy stared back blankly, “You can’t walk?”

Steve rolled his eyes, “I did track, give me some credit.” Billy shook his head and then swerved into the driveway, Steve just barely missed hitting his head on the window. He then leaned back in the car right after stepping out, “Uh, wait.” Billy felt slightly disappointed about being in front of Steve in that brief moment. “I thought I mentioned us hanging out today—“

“Mentioning and asking aren’t the same thing, Harrington,” Billy reminded. He did this often. Steve would say the most generic things, a mere flutter of words in a conversation, but would then take it to heart and you’d be slammed with sudden plans. Just the other day he’d said he was hungry and then twenty minutes later Billy had been forced into driving them to the Dairy Queen outside of town.

“Oh come on,” Steve whined and pulled at Billy’s leather jacket sleeve, “We both have tomorrow off finally! You can sleep over, it’ll be fun. You’re fun, Billy, let’s have fun, come on.” He gave one last tug and then exited the car. Based on the speed he spoke and the uncontrollable smile Steve had, Billy could tell something was up. But it was also cute and Billy was a sucker when Steve was like that. Unfortunately Steve was almost always cute so there wasn’t much of a win win sort of thing.

“Alright, alright, I’m coming,” he put the car in park, grabbed the key, and jogged after Steve. Steve unlocked the door in a rush with the jangle of his own set of keys. Before he opened the door he turned back with his hand in the handle.

“Oh, I should probably warn you, um...” Steve bit his lip and glanced at the door. Billy was laser-focused on that magenta, plush lip and then...there was yodeling. Yodeling?

Billy looked at the door in shock, “Harrington, what was that?” Instead of answering Steve turned the doorknob and gestured to two goats galloping towards them. One had a fully black, silky coat while the other was spotted like a cow. Their little, blunt horns worried Billy so he stepped in front of Steve a little swing of motion. The goats skidded to a stop straight in front him and just stared up.

“I think they like your hair,” Steve commented over his shoulder. The animals were, in fact, staring at Billy’s head. He stepped around and Billy had to stop himself from pulling him back just in case. Steve picked up the spotted goat and started rubbing its back. “Billy,” he lifted the goat up to Billy’s focus, “This is Joe. He loves chewing shirts so heads up. And this,” Steve let the submissive goat go and picked up the other one, “Is Remy,” he scratched the white spot of fur between the horns gently. “She likes buttercups and gnawing on hair especially so watch your head. She’s a jumper.” As of to prove his point Remy licked Steve’s chin and leaped down from Steve’s loose hold with impressive height.

For a lack of better words Billy asked in awe, “What’s with the goats, Steve?”

Harrington rubbed the back of his neck and let out a sort of giggle, “Well. I got lonely after Starcourt and the doctor said that a pet might help me with the PTSD or...something.” Suddenly Steve was sitting on the floor with the two goats at either side awaiting his attention. “And some farmer was getting rid of the runts for fifteen bucks each! So I took these two, the last of ‘em.” Now Billy knew Steve was sugar coating some of those details.

He wasn’t just lonely after Starcourt. Robin had explained a few things that triggered Steve’s fight or flight responses. Things Steve himself would never think to tell. Billy couldn’t handle the sight of rats or tar. And the smell of bleach made him vomit instantly. Steve knew that all. But Robin was the one to sit down and tell Billy how Steve couldn’t have his hair pulled. Or the sight of needles made him horribly nauseous. And he got close to chronic migraines, specifically in the colder weather.

Billy knew Steve intentionally never mentioned the time Billy had found him with his bat prowling the junkyard. Or the woods on the southwest side of Hawkins. Or when Mike had found Steve stumbling on a route to check on all of them. Billy had had to pick him up from the Wheeler’s because he was so paranoid and fatigued that no one could calm him. But Billy had become an expert at bundling Steve Harrington in their sort of affection. It was the sharp kind that made things go back to mostly normal.

Billy sat down too, maybe a little too close. But who was counting? Billy understood though, “Been having trouble sleeping again?”

Steve sighed forlornly, “Yeah,” he answered stoutly. Billy hesitantly stroked Joe’s side as the goat inched closer and Remy nuzzled into Steve’s side.

“I better get dinner out of this,” he teased and looked at Steve.

That damn smile.

“How long have you had them?”

“About four weeks but they’re eight weeks old,” Steve smoothed down the fluffed up white fur that bunched up behind Remy’s ears.

“They spend all their time inside?”

Steve looked almost offended, “God, no. I built a little coral outside for them in the morning and in the evening. I only keep them inside when I’m not here and the weather’s bad or at night. The weatherman had said that it was going to rain ‘cats and dogs’ today.” He quoted with his fingers and looked dispraisingly at the big sliding doors that could be seen through into the living room.

Joe made a disruptive, ear sore of a ‘baah’ and climbed into Billy’s lap. Rather invasively. Billy, for fear of the kid loosing balance, hugged him securely in place. The dull horns dug into the underneath of his jaw annoyingly but the softness of the animal’s shiny coat was enough to suffice. Steve tilted his head as he watched this go by and grinned with a softness Billy had associated clouds with as a child.

“I think he likes you,” Steve stated proudly.

Billy let himself smirk as he rubbed down Joe’s back, “He’s alright too.”

Steve was silent for a minute and then he stood up, Remy galloping after him, “I’ll start supper while you go wash up. You’ve got grease and ketchup on your shirt and I think that’s lettuce in your hair.” Billy’s hand flicked up to his head to feel for the referred invader.

He found it and threw it, Joe scurried after it attentively, “The diner was busy today,” he excused himself. Steve pointed to a blue door on his way to the kitchen. Billy entered through it to walls filled with powder blue wallpaper flowers. It smelt like cinnamon and the walk-in shower had little navy colored tiles. Billy stared at the citrus shampoo and conditioner lined up on the little shelf in the shower. Steve’s hair smelt like citrus. Abundantly most of the time and Billy sometimes lost himself in the aroma. God he was done for. The guys hair sent him to his knees practically. It was mortifying.

He showered quick and when he stepped out from the foggy glass box he found a yellow Hawkins High sweatshirt and soccer shorts. Billy furrowed his brow before putting on the shorts. “Didn’t know Steve had played soccer,” he mumbled to himself before tugging the long string in the front. When he exited the bathroom and slowly searched for the kitchen doorway, he listened to what Steve was saying to his goats.

“I think he went a little overboard on the soaps. It smelt like a lemon meringue pie in there. Or maybe it always smells like that. Joe, don’t eat the lemon grass, that’s to go with the chicken!” Billy peaked in and watched as Steve chased Joe around the island while the goat kept a sprig of green in his mouth. Steve had a pink and black polkadot apron on that flapped as he jogged. Joe went to escape the room but Billy crouched and grabbed him in one fluid motion. When he stood up Steve forcefully came to a halt just in front of Billy. Steve’s brown eyes were sparking orbs. Billy blinked and grasped the lemongrass, waiting for the black goat to slacken his jaw.

“Here,” he held the herb up and Steve carefully took it, holding a bit of Billy’s own hand as he did so and pulled it away slowly. Steve smiled thankfully, gently flicked Joe’s nose, and returned to his cutting board where he continued slicing the chicken cutlets. Billy asked to help and Steve seemed to grow excited. “Oh, you can work on a salad, there’s a head of lettuce in the fridge, some carrots and cucumbers and tomatoes too.” Remy appeared right in front of the refrigerator as soon as Billy stepped up to it. Steve noticed, “Just nudge her away, she likes the cucumber and she always tries to steal it when I get anything else out of there.”

Billy toed at her, prodding her away, “I thought you hated tomatoes,” Billy mentioned as he took out everything Steve had mentioned. He dropped everything in his arms on the other side of the island to where Steve was focused on seasoning the chicken. He bit his bottom lip when he was focused. Billy stared.

“Uhm,” Steve mumbled distractedly, “Just cube it and pat it a little with a paper towel. I can handle them when they’re not so wet.” Billy nodded and grabbed a cutting board from the drying rack by the sink and a knife from the wood block. He worked as he did in the kitchen at the diner and had a salad tossed up just as Steve was putting the chicken in the oven.

The goats where nowhere to be seen and Billy felt unnerved by the sudden quite, “Where are they?”

Steve looked up from cranking a timer with a wide eyed look, “Who?”

Billy held back a chuckle, “Steve,” he grinned amusedly and shook his head as Steve hesitantly gave back a confused tilt to his head. “Where are your goats?”

“Oh!” Steve pointed to the living room where the two animals where lying and staring at a robin hopping outside the glass sliding doors. “They’re waiting to go out,” Steve explained and hurried over while untying the apron. He opened the door and both goats messily ran out into the dewy evening grass and over to the small but spacious corral that Steve had referred to earlier. It was simple wood fencing, not much more that four feet high. The goats seemed to not care for it though and neither did Steve in the moment. Because the goats where lazily chasing the robin down to the tree line until the bird flew up and out of sight.

Billy walked out to Steve’s side at the end of the patio. Steve shivered, it had rained a little, hence the cool dew in the grass, and the air was chilly. Billy felt fine but he knew how Steve got colder then most, even though the man ran hot most of the time. He was a similar way himself, was a human heater but almost never got cold. Billy didn’t really think about it before he did it. Just pulled Steve close into his side and hugged him around his torso with one arm. Steve didn’t show any resistance and only froze up for a millisecond before he leaned into Billy’s side comfortably.

The sun was half covered by the end of the tree line. Cosmic orange and yellow highlighted Steve’s features cinema-like as Billy watched him gaze at the goats chase each other. When Steve finally did crane his neck back to catch Billy’s eye, he found plainly that he’d already had it. Steve’s eyes shifted down for a second and Billy had just enough hope to think it was his lips Steve had willingly glimpsed at.

“Wanna go get some ice cream from Donna’s later?” Steve asked and Billy caught something knowing in the glimmer of Steve’s irises. Highlighted like aged honey from the sun.

He nodded, “Sounds nice.”

“It’s a date,” Steve stated decisively. A date. He turned back to clap for Remy, who had just successfully jumped over the small bin filled with a basketball, soccer ball, and rubber ball.

Which reminded Billy, “I didn’t know you played soccer.” Steve seemed taken aback at the sudden question, like he’d forgotten too.

“God,” he said and leaned into Billy more, “That feels like decades ago. Yeah, I played the summer before junior year. Wasn’t my thing, I was put in goalie all the time because I couldn’t dribble the ball and kept tripping over it and staining my uniform.” Billy chuckled and Steve joined him heartily. “My mother has a picture of my whole front covered in mud somewhere.”

“I’ve got to see that,” Billy loosely pinched Steve side, making him bundle over to try and protect himself. Steve yelped with ticklish spouts of laughter and Billy laughed with him. Steve’s laugh was like a bell, like the church bells that even the non-religious could find a meaning too. Even at almost twenty, Steve’s laugh made him seem so much younger. Like he wasn’t plagued with neglectful parents, monsters invading his hometown, and the memories of all too many unnecessary deaths. Billy’s own was rougher but Max had told him once that his laugh did the same thing. She told him that when he laughed he seemed thirteen again, when he had first met her, when his father had been nice and Max had been innocent enough for Billy to take care with every step towards her. When she made him laugh like he had just started remembering how to do now.

Steve leaned his head on Billy’s peck and sighed, “I don’t even know where it’d be. My mother might have it. I have a hunch she had a photo album with her.”

“How’d you figure that?” Billy settled his hand firmer against Steve’s hip.

“She calls sometimes when she’s drunk enough to let loose and tell me how she’s feeling. Seems she only remembers me when she’s intoxicated. She babbles about times when I was a kid.” Billy couldn’t see Steve’s expression but he almost assumed the man was smiling a little. Like he was okay and happy that his mother only called when she was drunker than a sailor. He was fine with the scraps he got. And Steve was never one to stick up for himself. Never one to actually complain about the muddy puddle he was stuck in. But Billy didn’t want to watch Steve become immune to that. And it was bad enough that he wasn’t even registering what’s right and wrong anymore. But maybe Steve was finally accepting the outcome his family’s path had lead to. Maybe Billy missed being selfish and now he was selfish for Steve.

“Why does she do that?” he asked and Steve didn’t respond for a moment. The goats started to chase each other around the corral, shadows deeper as the sun set a little more.

“She doesn’t trust my father so she’s always by his side. He cheated a couple years ago and she’s trying to keep a hold of him. She can’t leave him for more to an a day without worrying to bits and pieces.”

“And you’re fine with that?”

Steve sighed and shrugged over Billy’s arm, “I get it, I don’t like it, but I get it. I spent so much time doing the same to Nancy. I lost the game and I have a feeling she’ll lose eventually too. I guess...I never hang up because I want her to know, even if it’s in the back of her mind, that I’m here for her when she realizes it. When he finally makes the final blow.” Steve looked up and Billy couldn’t regret causing the loosing stance in Steve’s eyes. Because what he’d said was the truth. It was what he felt for real and that what Billy had wanted. But he did feel apologetic for pushing. Steve had a hard time talking about his family, anyone could be able to spot that much.

“That’s kind of you to offer her,” Billy said and stared back at Steve through both their eyelashes.

Steve shrugged again, “Yeah, well, one of us has got look out for someone.” Billy knew he was implying his own family. But he couldn’t help but connect Steve helping him through all the hurt Neil had caused. How Steve had definitely been there for people before. But this was different. Billy knew that. “And I’ve got the goats, I haven’t told Dad about them but Mom thinks it’s sweet as long as they don’t eat the furniture.” Billy smiled and leaned his chin atop Steve’s hair part. Steve sighed, a little tired and a little content, “This is nice.” Billy decided to take the next step, maybe Steve already had, but Billy was making his own leap.

He slowly stepped around Steve while still keeping him trapped in the embrace. He leaned forward till their noses touched and he ignored the slight tickle. Steve and him were mostly the same height, Billy only shorter by an inch or so. So Billy had the best sight of Steve’s dark, coffee bean eyes and the starkly gentle emotions they emoted. Neither of them looked anywhere else, no ones eyes looked away from the others. It was peaceful until Billy felt two somethings, he assumed were horns, ram into his calf. He shouted and stepped back from Steve so he could check his assaulted leg. The smooth, black coat that Billy had just been stroking earlier was now jumping in front of Steve like it was disturbed by the both of them. He made a low ‘baah’ towards Billy before chomping onto the hem of Steve T-shirt self riotously.

“Joseph!” Steve scolded, rather harshly, “How dare you,” he ripped his shirt out of the goats mouth and hurried over to Billy. Remy had remade her appearance, making herself known to Billy by licking his hand and making a sympathetic sounding ‘baah’ much different from her brother’s. Steve took Billy’s hand and rushed back inside, guiding the goats with him. Joe was reluctant and obviously in a fit of self pity, but Billy was sitting on the counter as Steve checked over the bruising area with extreme intent. “I’m sorry he did that, he’s not usually so violent.”

Billy snorted, he couldn’t help it, “I think he was just being protective of you.” He winced when Steve gingerly felt around the bruising dots.

He looked up sheepishly, “Sorry,” he stood up and gave a quick peck to Billy’s forehead affectionately. And if that where any other person Billy knew he’d probably be very confused. Even with almost kissing outside, Billy wasn’t quite surprised by Steve’s actions. Because Steve was always affectionate, he hugged and squeezed you when you hugged him like he loves you more than anything. He was just soft hearted like that, defrosted in a way most weren’t.

Steve returned with a bag of frozen peas, “Here, this’ll help,” he held it to the two dark purple circles on his leg. Billy ignored the cold and ran a hand through Steve hair calmingly. He told himself there was a tangle and he was just making sure Steve’s pretty head of high hair wasn’t catching snarls. Steve hadn’t used any hairspray that day, or at least very little. He was surprised by the light, softness to it. Steve closed his eyes and leaned into Billy’s hand by the third stroke of his hand.

“Steve,” Billy began, he didn’t continue until Steve opened his eyes and looked up at him, “Do you think the goats will ambush me if I try again.”

Steve’s lips curved up and he leaned his temple against Billy’s knee, “Nah, Remy will protect you. Promise it,” he put his hands on the counter on either side of Billy’s sides and pulled himself up to standing. The counter was tall so for once Billy was the one an inch or so taller. Steve didn’t close his eyes as he leaned in and neither did Billy. They stared a moment before they closed their eyes and their lips actually touched. And then they were pressed together from forehead to waist. Steve was warm and breathy and confident. It was more relieving than the cold against the bruises. Billy was actually the one to break first. He hadn’t even realized until he tasted salt. Steve looked panicked, “Are you okay?” Steve’s hands were in Billy’s hair, pushing it back soothingly.

Steve wiped the tear tracks and Billy coughed out emotion, “I never actually thought that would happen. For real. You— You kissed me.” Steve smiled as it dawned on him and hugged Billy. Just hugged him, nothing more, nothing less. Arms around torso and slightly stubbly chin against his jaw. Billy almost fell apart. He wrapped his own arms around Steve’s torso and clasped around him like a magnet.

“I’ll do it again later too,” Steve whispered after a very long moment. They both pulled away when they heard the clomping of small hooves. Remy was pushing Joe over to them with the flat of her head and the force of her side. She stood silent and stared at Joe for a long while, the white of her spots reflecting the last light of the evening. Joe stood on all fours and slowly inched his way over to Billy’s dangling legs and licked his knee before galloping off with a blow through his nose. Steve chuckled, “That’s his way of apologizing.” Billy raised a brow and watched as Remy made her way over, calmer than the other.

“Some apology,” he mumbled sarcastically and Steve laughed while putting his head on Billy’s shoulder.

Then the timer went off.

[itsamejin]

leave me || part 3 || suga angst ||

Part 1 || Part 2

Warning: angst, cheating, cursing, intoxication (heavy drinking)

Summary: He’s cheating and you’re aware. You just don’t know what to do about it.

–

Min Yoongi, to say the least, was tired. He was tired of his fame, his fans, his group members. No, fuck it. Min Yoongi was exhausted.

The guilt that came with his infidelity led him to a nearby bar where he could drown himself in his sorrows once again. He should've known better. 

It's been two weeks since you've left him and in some twisted way, he still believes you'd come back. If he had been kinder, if he had told you sooner... Would you have been more forgiving?

Shot after shot of vodka, Yoongi didn't know when to stop. It was self-destructive, he knew it better than anyone else. But Yoongi didn't need someone to tell him what's right and what’s wrong about his situation because he already fucking knew that he messed up, that there was no turning back.

Yoongi was prepared to pass out at that bar tonight, lacking the energy to call a cab and drag himself home. He was prepared to just lay there and hope the bartender doesn't call the cops on him or that even more videos of his drunken adventures show up online the next day. He was so prepared that it came as a shock when a pretty young lady scooped him up and took him to the BTS dorm.

As he got one last glimpse at his savior, he wondered why he felt so at home in her arms.

–

Waking up with a feeling of intense grogginess, Yoongi regretted every decision he made last night. The world was spinning and he needed to throw up. Running to the restroom, Yoongi splurged his guts out. He coughed up the remainder of his vomit and groaned. He muttered incoherent words, clinging onto his scalp for dear life. It wasn't the migraine that hurt the most, it was that deja vu feeling of you patting his back over the toilet bowl after an intense party you both attended.

"Yoongi, baby, are you okay?" a sweet voice called.

Jieun.

Yoongi groaned even louder. He must've drunkenly texted or called her last night. Of course she was the person that took him home. Why did he trick himself into thinking it was you?

Jieun lightly tapped on the bathroom door and opened it slightly. She gasped at his appearance.

"What happened?!" she screeched.

"Just threw up, that's all," he said, his mouth sore and his head pulsing.

Jieun looked at him with those puppy dog eyes, pouting at his wrecked state.

"C'mon, let's get you fixed up babe.”

She was ever so sweet, ever so loving. But somehow the look of worry on her face made Yoongi's migraines even worse. Without warning, Yoongi threw up the remainder of last night's alcohol all over Jieun’s feet.

–

“Hey can anyone help me in here? Yoongi’s passed out on the floor,” Jieun called out from inside the bathroom, scrubbing the vomit off her feet under the bathtub faucet.

When she heard no response, Jieun wiped her feet on the bath rug and stepped over Yoongi’s lying form to get to the living room.

A few minutes ago, the rest of BTS was on the sofa watching reruns of a 90s sitcom, but it seems that ever since she got there, all the members except one moved to their own rooms.

“Hey Jin, can you help me carry Yoongi to his bed again?” she asked kindly. 

It seemed everyone wanted nothing to do with her today because he audibly sighed and did not acknowledge her existence even as he got up to pass by her. 

Seokjin grimaced at the site of Yoongi. He reeked of alcohol, vomit, and bad decisions, but Seokjin soldiered through his own queasiness to get him on the bed.

Jieun watched from the door frame and chuckled nervously. 

“What’s gotten into him lately?” she wondered out loud. 

“Jieun I think you should go,” Seokjin replied coldly, ignoring her previous question.

“What? Why?”

“I’ll handle it from here,” he said, keeping his focus on Yoongi’s intoxicated form.

“I need to know what’s going on, Jin. He’s been like this for the past few weeks, I’m worried-”

“Yeah well, maybe you shouldn’t be,” he cut her off. This was the first time he looked at her throughout her whole visit.

“Jin, I know you don’t like me but-”

“This has nothing to do with how I feel, Jieun. You just need to go,” he walked towards her.

“I just want him to be okay,” she replied, tears forming in her eyes. Seokjin was always like this to her, saying hurtful comments with no consideration towards her own feelings.

“Trust me Jieun when I say that you could do so much better than Yoongi,” he started. “You’ll learn that soon enough. For now, I need you to leave.”

The tears ran down Jieun’s eyes with no semblance of stopping. She didn’t know why he felt the need to even talk about Yoongi’s worth when it came to her. Seokjin pitied her ignorance but he knew it wasn’t his place to say anything too specific. Let Yoongi reap what he sowed.

Afraid of how her voice would come out, Jieun just nodded. Without another word, she slipped her high heels back on and left the dorm. She noticed, before she left, that Yoongi’s room was strangely empty. 

As if it was a guest room.

– 

Yoongi, woke up once again, in a bed he hadn’t slept in since he moved out with you. Instead of being greeted with Jieun's honey-like voice, the first thing he saw was Seokjin’s disgusted expression.

“What the fuck, can you not look at me like that right when I wake up,” Yoongi murmured under his breath.

“Are you feeling any better or should I get you something?” Seokjin asked, but there was obvious contempt in his voice. He said it out of courtesy, not concern.

Yoongi caught this so he shook his head, but he definitely needed some hangover medicine to ease the headache.

“I’m good.”

“Alright,” Seokjin sighed. “I’m just gonna tell you straight up."

Yoongi scratched the back of his neck in irritation and confusion.

"What?"

"You barhopping every fucking night is ruining the group’s image," Seokjin started, "Do you know how many videos the company has taken down with you screaming at bartenders for refusing to give you any more drinks?”

Yoongi groaned.

“Listen, bro. I’m sorry. It won’t happen-”

“No, you listen. You don’t think I know what this is about?” Seokjin asked grabbing Yoongi by the collar of his shirt.

Yoongi only tilted his head in confusion. Seokjin continued on.

“You’re insane if you think [Y/N] is gonna take you back after this and you’re even more insane for stringing along Jieun so you can have someone to have sex with while you drink away your problems.”

Yoongi wanted so desperately to respond, but Seokjin’s grip on him was intense.

“We all know Yoongi, all of us. That you cheated on [Y/N]. And it’s crazy because just last year you were planning to get married to her and now look at you!”

Seokjin let go of Yoongi and stepped back, clearly disgruntled with Yoongi’s lack of a reaction.

“I didn’t think it would come to this either but-”

“Stop making excuses, Yoongi. You can deceive those poor girls but you can’t trick me. Get this shit settled with before you damage everything we built up to get here. Namjoon was too scared to confront you because you’re his hyung, but I’ve stayed quiet long enough.”

Yoongi looked down at his bed sheets, unable to come up with a good enough response to Seokjin’s harsh words. As if his body wasn’t already drained, the tears went down his face onto the blanket so rapidly he was almost blinded. He grabbed his hair and sniffled.

“I want to make things right, but I don’t know what to do,” he whispered, almost to himself.

Seokjin glared at him and made his way to the door. Before exiting Yoongi's room, he turned around only slightly.

“Apologize to both of them. The right way.”

–

Yoongi spent hours rehearsing this exact moment as he stood in front of your parents' house. He kept repeating the same words over and over again as if he was trying to memorize rap lyrics to a new song. 

As he finally took a deep breath in, Yoongi pressed the doorbell. There was nothing at first and went to press it again until he heard light footsteps on the other side. His heart rate picked up and Yoongi’s palms were sweaty.

Without looking through the peek hole, you opened the door without hesitation. Immediately regretting it, you attempted to shut the door just as quick. Unfortunately, Yoongi’s foot stuck out and stopped it from closing any further. You wanted to scream, but you know the reaction your neighbors would have if you actually did.

“I just want to talk,” Yoongi said, reading off the script he prepared in his mind.

“I don’t,” you replied coldly.

“I just want closure. Nothing else. I need to see you one last time,” he said, getting choked up between his sentences.

You paused your attempts to close the door to assess the situation. There was no need to see him one last time, you thought. You already got all the closure you needed. As you were about to reject his offer, he continued speaking.

“You don’t have to say anything. Just... meet me at the apartment tomorrow. I’ll be waiting.”

He took his foot out and shut the door for you. He came as easily as he left and yet for some odd reason, it felt like he hadn’t even come at all. After a few seconds of deliberation, you opened the door again. There was no sign of him and that got you to thinking. Would it be such a bad idea?

–

The next day came and Yoongi felt like you weren’t going to show up at all. No message, no call, no nothing. He waited in the apartment after preparing a dinner that he doubts you’d even touch if you did ever decide to show up. 

It felt so cold in the comfort of his own home, with no other person occupying the vast space with him. He no longer slept in the bedroom, opting for the couch because he always seemed to tear up at the sight of the bed without your body laying next to his. 

Yoongi wondered if this endless waiting was similar to how you felt when he was at the studio or with Jieun late at night. Again, the guilt bubbled up inside him and his heart clenched with hurt. He felt suffocated in the apartment and he need to step outside to clear his mind. He’d visit the boys and maybe then their presence would lighten his mood.

–

“Yoongi, I’ve been looking for you everywhere,” a voice called out to him as he walked down the dorm’s hallway. He turned around to put a face to the voice and sure enough, it was exactly who he expected. Jieun.

“I thought today was your day off, why weren’t you at the dorm earlier?” she asked, clutching onto his arm when she got to him.

Yoongi flinched at the contact. He felt so conflicted with himself. He wanted to push her off, but he also wanted to tug her into his arms and pull her in closer. He wanted so badly to tell her everything, to apologize for his actions and that she didn’t need a scumbag like him. But he was still so selfish because he thought that if it didn’t work out with you, at least he’d still have her.

“I actually have something to do today, let’s talk another time. Okay?” he replied, softly pulling himself away from her. She pursed her lips and sighed.

“I’m just worried about you, alright? You’ve been so distant lately. I just want to ease some of the stress.”

“I know you do, but I need to figure this out for myself. I’ll text you later, okay?”

She nodded and pecked him on the lips. He wished he could say that he hated it, that the feeling of her kissing him repulsed him, but Jieun was Jieun and he couldn’t resist kissing her back.

“Another time then, babe?”

“Yeah,” he said solemnly. As Yoongi watched her walk back down the hallway towards the elevator, he felt like ripping out his own heart and stomping on it. Because even though it's fucked up that he's still so infatuated with Jieun after everything that has happened, he can’t help but want her to stay instead of leave.

Staring at his dorm door, he decides against going inside. He didn’t feel like seeing Seokjin’s disapproving gaze again.

–

It was a bad idea. 

It was such a fucking bad idea. 

You paced back and forth the apartment lobby like a mad woman. You should leave. There was enough time to go back home and relax, but again and again the nagging voice in your head telling you to hear him out seemed to annoy you much more after his surprise visit. You wanted to know so badly why he came to you reeking of desperation and heartbreak. If there was even a reason to his affair and if he truly regretted his actions, you just needed to know. Making your way to the apartment elevators, it was almost fate that you’d bump into the very person you despised besides Yoongi.

The other girl.

She was just as shocked as you, but for another reason. Your handbag had fallen to the ground and she apologized profusely.

She exuded the very definition of beauty. Her skin glowed with no imperfections, her legs long, and fingers dainty. Aphrodite had appeared right in front of you and all you could do was stare at her with an open mouth. You should’ve been more angry to see her in front of you, but you couldn’t shake of the feeling that Yoongi deserved to be with someone like her. Someone so unlike you.

“Oh my gosh. I’m so sorry, I’m so clumsy,” she chuckled. 

Jieun picked up your bag and the contents that slipped out and gave it back to you. She looked at your stunned form and laughed a bit more.

“I’m sorry, were you a fan? Would you like to take a photo?”

Bewildered by her response, you just shook your head.

“N-no, I was just shocked to see a celebrity here," you lied, knowing full well that BTS and a couple of other groups have lived there for years.

“Oh, well I was visiting my boyfriend so you’ll probably see me often if you live here,” she smiled to herself.

The first spark of anger rang through you when she said that. It was then the image of her beauty had started to crumble as you thought of Yoongi and her together. The nights they spent, the romantic dinners they had. 

None of them with you.

“Well, I need to get going so it was nice meeting you,” you replied, clearly wanting to get out of the conversation.

Just as Jieun was planning to say goodbye, she noticed the ring on your finger and something about it made her heart drop. Now where did she see that ring before?

–

You stood in front of your old apartment with a new sense of purpose, no longer nervous or anxious. You were ready to walk in there and break his heart into pieces. To reject any compromise or excuses he’d make. You knocked on the doorbell and waited a few seconds until you knocked again. The door opened slowly, as if a gust of wind was what got it to open. You pushed the door to reveal Yoongi in a white sweater and ripped jeans. He smiled and invited you in.

“Sorry, I didn’t answer the first time. I thought you were one of the boys,” he said as you pushed past him, took off your shoes, and walked into the living room. The place was so bare, it was a wonder that anyone even lived in it. You did a good job, you thought, of cleaning everything out so perfectly.

“Let’s make this quick Yoongi,” you replied curtly. The run-in with Jieun had pissed you off immensely and you just wanted this confrontation to be over with.

Yoongi looked at you and sighed. 

“I made dinner,” he said.

“I don’t care.”

Your response went as expected, he thought. Yoongi sat on the sofa as you hesitantly took a seat on the arm chair next to it.

“Well, get on with it, Yoongi. Talk.”

He hated how aggressive you sounded. This conversation was supposed to be civil, meant to convince you that he was truly sorry for his actions. He needed to speak wisely if he wanted to get you to calm down.

“I’m sorry that I cheated on you with Jieun,” he started, slowly easing into the words. You scoffed.

“Why are you sorry? I ran into her earlier, she’s a very nice girl," you said sarcastically.

Your voice was so coated with malice that Yoongi struggled to breath under your cold gaze.

“Please don’t blame Jieun. It’s not her fault,” he gulped. “I never told her about you. About anything. I led her on.”

You gritted your teeth enough to hear it.

“Do you make it your business to break girl’s hearts, Min Yoongi?”

Feeling guilty over your toxic behavior towards Jieun earlier, you channeled that anger to the man sitting in front of you instead.

He flinched and shook his head.

“I’m so fucking stupid, [Y/N]. You don’t know how much I hate myself for what I did to you and what I did to her, but I didn’t think it’d turn out like this. I thought we could work it out. I didn’t think this would be the fucking end-”

“Yoongi, you’re a fucking cheater. Us breaking up was actually the best case scenario,” you said, raising your voice.

“[Y/N], please. I’m asking you to hear me out.”

“Go ahead,” you started, “but nothing is going to make me forgive you. I hope you know that.”

He brushed his hair back with his hand. He didn’t know where to start and whether it would even make sense in the end.

“Our relationship just didn’t feel like how it used to, you know? It’s like you weren’t the person I fell in love with when we first started dating,” he cringed at his word choice but kept going. “And Jieun... she was so much like you and I couldn’t get her out of my head. But I know now. I know I should’ve treated you better, I know you deserve-”

“Then why the fuck am I here Yoongi,” you stood up, looking down at his sitting form. “Why the fuck are you expecting me to accept your apology when you don't deserve it? You don’t care about how I feel at all, Yoongi. Because you’re a selfish bastard.”

You were practically screaming at this point, tears threatening to fall to the ground.

“You’re here because you know you want me back too [Y/N],” he said, his voice slightly shaking. “I know you want me back as much as I do."

“You're the last person I want to be with right now” you seethed. “You could die at this moment and I wouldn’t fucking care.”

To that, Yoongi snapped. You were making things so much more difficult than it had to be.

“It must’ve been so easy for you, huh [Y/N]?” Yoongi stood up. “It must’ve been so easy to play the victim when you were the one that fucking fell out of love with me first.”

You looked at him, confusion written all over your face. The argument had escalated beyond what you were expecting. There was no fucking way he was bringing that up.

“Yoongi, how are you not over that? It’s been a year-”

“What the fuck do you mean [Y/N]? I proposed to you! I promised you my life and you fucking said no. That shit is gonna live with me until I die. There's no way I'm going to forget that.”

“Oh no, Yoongi did I hurt your feelings?” you said in a mocking tone. “At least I didn’t fuck another guy behind your back for a few months and announced it to the whole fucking world!”

“That’s not the point and you know it!” he walked towards you, his eyes watery. “You didn’t even give me a reason, [Y/N]. The least you could’ve done was tell me why.”

You avoided eye contact with him, opting for the bare wall behind him and the wooden panel floors underneath you. You hated it when he was angry, but you needed to get this off your chest.

“You want your reason, Yoongi? You want it plain and simple?” you said, gaining more confidence.

You treaded closer to him, so close to his face that you could feel his breath on your skin. Your face neared his left earlobe.

“I wasn’t fucking ready to spend my life with a guy who was eventually gonna cheat on me anyways.”

You pulled away to take a glimpse at his shocked state. You were satisfied with the reaction. He looked almost just as broken as you did a few weeks ago. His fist was clenched so hard you saw the veins protruding underneath his pale skin. Composing himself, he took a deep breath.

“[Y/N]. I’m begging you. I’m not going to ask for a second chance, not anymore. It’s obvious we’re past that,” he swallowed back his tears. “I just want to know the real reason. None of that petty shit.”

You scoffed at his naivety. Maybe it was time to come clean, to do him a favor.

“Yoongi, did you really think that just because you asked your company to let you propose means that they’re actually going to approve that easily?”

He squinted.

“What are you talking about?”

“How many times did I have to tell you that I loved you even after you proposed? How many times did I have to fucking reassure to you that eventually we would get married?! That it just wasn’t the right time-”

“So you’re saying that-” he tried to interject.

“Yoongi. You’re smarter than this. I would have fucking said yes in a heartbeat if you’re manager didn’t come to me and tell me that BigHit would ruin my life if we got married. My face would have been all over the news. Your contract would have gotten terminated, Yoongi. They put all that pressure on me and you didn’t even fucking notice,” you cried.

“Wait, but-”

You wanted so desperately not to cry in front of him but the tears wouldn’t stop flowing. He grabbed the back of his head with both hands in exasperation.

“How the hell would you expect me to know that if you didn’t tell me at all?” he replied.

“It doesn’t matter, Yoongi," you shook your head. "Because I’m positive you would have cheated on me anyways. That’s the type of person you are, Yoongi. It didn’t matter if I said yes, it didn’t matter if I said no. Because we’d still be arguing in the end anyways.”

“That’s not true and you know it-” he started, but got cut off as he stumbled over his own words. You only continued on.

“You know I treated this promise ring like the real thing,” you cried, fiddling around with the accessory adorned on your finger. “It didn’t matter to me if we were married, just as long as were together. Because six years with you meant everything to me, but now I realize I waited for no reason. I don’t need it anymore Yoongi. I don’t need you.”

You struggled to take off the ring that had been stuck to your finger for so long that it felt foreign having it off. You walked passed him and slammed it down onto the coffee table. It felt liberating but that tiny voice that wants to forgive Yoongi once again whimpered because of the ring’s absence. His expression had noticeably darkened, his eyes red.

“You had no fucking right to make that decision for me [Y/N]. You had no right to keep that information to yourself when it could’ve saved our relationship.”

“What’s done is done,” you replied, wiping your eyes with your sleeve.

He chuckled out of disbelief.

“No, fuck that," he replied. "You don't get to give me a half-ass response like that. I spent a whole year wondering where I went wrong and if you even loved me anymore and you tell me now that you said no because of my company?! I would have quit, [Y/N]! I would have done everything to be with you!”

“And that’s the problem Yoongi,” you threw your hands up in the air in frustration. “You give up anything without thinking! You see how easily you could find someone else to love? How easily you gave us up?”

He shook his head, tears streaming down his face.

“That’s different, I was in a dark place in my life. If I only knew I would have never even talked to Jieun,” he said.

“Stop making excuses Yoongi. It’s not going to work with me anymore,” you whispered.

"I didn't mean to, I'm sorry [Y/N]. I'm so fucking sorry," he said trying to move closer towards you.

"I’ve realized that I'm better off without you and it’s time you realize that you don't need me as much as you say you do. Think about the months you spent ignoring me," you said, wiping the tears away. "I accept your apology, but please. Never contact me again.”

As you turned your back on him, he pulled you to face him again. But the hurt in your eyes made him let go. His throat was so dry that he couldn’t speak another word as you walked towards the front door. You put on your shoes and didn't bother to look back at his broken state. You opened the door and underneath your breath, you whispered "Goodbye, Yoongi."

And with that, you exited the apartment you once called home.

Even in that moment, Yoongi couldn’t shake the image of you turning your back on him outside of his head. Because it looked so much like Jieun’s earlier that day. That’s right. 

He needs to see Jieun.

–

AN: I will say this as loud as I can. I AM SO SORRY THAT THIS WAS RELEASED AFTER A WHOLE YEAR. TRULY FROM THE BOTTOM OF MY HEART I AM SORRY. This was already written and done with a year ago. Part 4 is done as well, the last part of the series. I was just so unconfident with this third part that I never posted it and I regret that decision very much. I never forgot about this blog, I was just very insecure about my writing that I have all these drafts for no one to see. I’ll start posting them and even accept drabble requests from now on. (I’m in quarantine what else can I do?) I should have kept you all updated, but I didn’t and I promise from now on I will communicate with you guys so much more. I actually checked my inbox yesterday and was flooded with support from you guys and that really motivated to keep this blog going. I legitimately almost cried. Thank you guys and I love you all. I hope you liked this part. 

Tags: @jaiuneamesolitaiire @milady-mira @somewhereinthestarss @yunkibts @cuteipat

If you want to be added to the tag list, just go to my ask box and let me know!

[writtenjewels]

Remote part 2

Part One

Father sent a message saying he would be arriving soon. Nule made sure there was no evidence that the Alliance soldier was here, then waited as Father's ship docked. Inside he was squirming against the little bit of defiance he took part in by breaking so many of Father's rules: do not speak with anyone, don't let anyone see your face, don't give out your name. Nule had justified the first rule by reasoning that he would kill intruders; the second broken rule was an accident. But the third rule he had purposefully broken.

The door opened and Father stepped inside. Nule handed him a glass of scotch he poured. “Thank you, Nule.” Father took a slow sip. “You always anticipate my needs.” Nule smiled a little at the praise. “And speaking of needs,” Father continued, “shall we continue with testing?”

“Yes, Father.” He turned and walked beyond the kitchen to the simulation room. He tapped into the most recent program he'd been working on. Father stood outside the room but with the door open so he could still observe. He lit a cigarette and took in a long drag.

“Proceed, Nule.”

Nule pulled up his biotic barrier first. It was one of the first things he learned and could now maintain it for hours even when he was being attacked-- which was the program he was currently running. He began lifting the simulated enemies and throwing them into each other. All of this was easy for him, merely a warm-up. The next part of the simulation was where he struggled: biotic hand-to-hand combat.

“Nule, I can tell you're holding back,” Father scolded him. “You can hit much harder than that.” Nule cringed at the displeasure in Father's voice. It was just a simulation, he reasoned, not real people he was hitting and kicking. He put more biotic force into each blow and tried not to think of the broken bones and internal bleeding he would be causing.

After an hour of this Father asked him to demonstrate his biotic shield. This was one of the trickier skills Nule had been working on. He only recently found himself capable of creating the shield at all; now Father wanted him to maintain it for as long as possible. Nule held his palms out, body trembling and sweat trickling down his neck as he held the barrier. He could feel energy draining out of him with every heartbeat.

“Father,” he gasped out, “I need to rest now, please.”

“Hold the barrier for one more minute, Nule. You're strong enough to do that.”

“Yes, Father.” He gritted his teeth and pushed through his growing exhaustion. He thought of all the biotics who weren't as lucky as him: they were being tortured and lobotomized simply because they were born different. All of this testing was going to help them, and if Nule worked hard enough he would be free to leave this place.

Finally he was allowed to stop. Nule collapsed onto the ground, shaking as his body struggled to cool down from all that effort. He pushed to his feet and blearily made it to the kitchen where he practically inhaled a protein bar and two energy drinks.

“You're doing much better,” Father praised him. “It's clear you've mastered a biotic barrier, as well as the pull and throw techniques.” He paused to take a puff from his cigarette. All these years and Nule could never grow used to that smell; he was grateful for the air filters making sure it didn't linger after Father was gone. “Your combat could still use some work. Remember, Nule, people will not hesitate to hurt you when they learn you're a biotic. They see you as a freak of nature.”

“I know, Father.” He heard it all a thousand times before. Nule could feel a migraine coming on but didn't dare betray that to Father. He wanted something more substantial than a protein bar so he set the fabricator to make a steak sandwich. What did real steak sandwiches taste like, he wondered?

“I want you to also work on flotation. It's a difficult technique but I believe in your capabilities.”

“I'll do my best, Father.”

“I know you will.” Father's eyes glowed at him. Nule never thought much about those eyes, but he had seen other blue eyes now and was struck by the difference. “You won't fail me, Nule.”

Nule wanted to draw strength from those words, but all he could feel was more guilt. He already failed his father by interacting with Commander Shepard. And if talking to the man and letting him live wasn't bad enough, the commander said he was coming back. He knew Father would be furious, but he also knew that telling the truth about his encounter was probably the right thing to do. Father only wanted Nule to be protected and safe, after all, and the commander might jeopardize that.

But Commander Shepard promised to tell me about sunsets. He said he wouldn't do anything to hurt me. Father's lectures on not trusting the Alliance came to mind. They used and abused biotics like him, when they weren't causing the biotics to become drug addicts with red sand. Still, Nule kept quiet about Commander Shepard. Maybe this one Alliance soldier wasn't a bad person.

Maybe he could even be a friend, something Nule never had before.