#new year same bullshit sorry guys. i love putting this man through it for no reason

[m1d-45]

the pain of rapture

summary: there is no excuse for weakness in an archon. only explanations; no matter how impossible to find.

word count: ~3k

-> warnings: major spoilers for liyue archon quest . duh . unedited . also duh

-> gn reader (you/yours)

taglist: @samarill || @sarienic || @valeriele3 || @shizunxie || @boba-is-a-soup || @yuus3n || @esthelily || @turningfrogsgay || @cupandtea24 || @genshin-impacts-me || @chaoticfivesworld || @raaawwwr || @ryuryuryuyurboat || @undrxtxd || @rainswept || @wanderersqt || @rozz-eokkk

< masterlist >

there was no underestimating the time that zhongli had waited for this day. it was every archon’s desire to fulfill their duty, of course, but he couldn’t help but feel as if his wait was all the more painful than theirs.

every archon—no, every person had, at some point or another, strayed from their ideals. whether inconsequential white lies or betrayal of that which they loved, no soul was pure. nobody ended up exactly as they intended to be, in exactly the life they meant to live, with exactly the views they had longed for as a child. it was simply impossible; the world was too unpredictable, forcing one through trial after trial to pull gem from slag and discover what color crystal lay within one’s veins. despite these unremarkable paths, it was equally everyone’s nature to seek out a reason that they were unlike everyone else. billions of unique voices joined an endless choir of individuality, cutting into the same earth for a place within it, blind to their actions being pushed along by the mob around them.

and perhaps, due to his position as archon, he had thought himself better. perhaps he, like everyone else, had thought that he was nothing like anyone at all. while he could never return to who he was before the archon war, his memory was not as easily washed away as time, and he had had millennia to reflect.

was it his own mind that decided to rewrite his history? actions were undeniable, but nobody but him could attest to his motivations. was he judging himself through the wrong eyes, and in the process blinding himself to the truth? or had he willingly turned away from what he already knew? even from an outsider’s view, he was a stark contrast to the morax he was. should it not follow that he has also changed internally? that the rough, raw ore of his pain had softened and smoothed? ah, but to argue that would be to admit that he was once a jewel that hurt to hold. what gem did not want to be admired?

there was a lot that has changed in his life. it should not be so shameful to acknowledge that he, too, had changed. stones in rivers did no good to travelers when jagged and unsteady. he had learned. he was not so foolish as to think he was incapable of learning. there were many things he did not know then, and still things he did not know now. what did it matter that “humility” was missing from the first list and “pride” from the second? circumstances had changed, and he had changed with them. there was no shame in adaptation.

(if put back in the thick of war, would he become who he was then? would he revert back to the mindset of selfishness and wrath that had kept him alive? was that really what had enabled his survival at all, or was it just his claws?)

the moon was not the only witness to these debates, but it was the most frequent. during the day, he could busy himself with work and walks and idle discussions with whomever he pleased. it was only at night, when the port had settled but his mind had not, that he was without reason to avoid such musings. the air was warm and yet he kept his hands close around his teacup, feeling the corners settle into the indents of his knuckles like there was never a time he didn’t spend his evenings like this. there was nobody around to fool.

sleep never came easy to him, in any of his iterations. morax had too much to do, plans to pore over, reports in one hand and a sharpening stone in the other. rex lapis got the closest, spending time not tending to his people quietly meditating, listening to the prayers brought through the stone beneath his hands. even now, if he pressed his hand flat against the earth and searched, he could still find the last vestiges of these pleas. he never listened for long, though.

despite shedding as much of his skin as possible, sleep did not come easily for zhongli. he could lay and wait until his muscles itched for any sort of attention, but his mind never slipped away. if work was particularly stressful and he had neglected this routine the night prior, he could perhaps slip into a fitful doze, but it was always easily interrupted. birds on his windowsill did not make him reach for a blade as they once would have, but they did once again bring his mind back into consciousness, identifying its call and guessing the time as if his internal clock ever wavered. he had long since come to peace with this—it made sense his transition into humanity would not be seamless—but it had become more troublesome recently.

if anyone asked, not that they would, he would simply say that lantern rite was coming up soon. with vendors focused on the event, it would be harder to fetch the supplies necessary for the parlor, and as a consultant his job was to be able to provide options for his customers. if florists were out of silk flowers until next week, or there were no dried birch available, then it fell to him to inform the client. those in mourning were already unconsolable, and he saw no reason this excuse would not work. the handful of times he’d had to use it, when he was new to the parlor and they hadn’t gotten used to his personality yet, it had worked fine.

it was good that nobody knew who he truly was. he had long since grown used to the desperate cries of his people, and heard enough of their disputes and conversations to know which words helped and which did not. his excuse was just that; an excuse.

zhongli did not have a birthday. not just as a date of the start of this identity—though that itself had taken several years of pondering, each of which could have been equally considered a ��day of birth” in that sense—but as an absolute date. aside from the fact that the modern calendar had simply not existed back then, there was no date in his memory that was truly his birthday. consciousness was a hazy thing, and he’d never had a need to decide which of the days of his blurry existence constituted a “birthday.” however, humans placed importance on them, and so he did as well. like everything else about his new persona, he had chosen it, placing it at the end of the calendar year for no particular reason other than it feeling right. no day stood out to him enough to be “his,” and all carried some level of importance. he had experienced thousands of each day, and it wouldn’t be right to decide which stack of events was more or less “meaningful,” so he didn’t. the last day of the year, perhaps somewhat symbolic of his retirement.

before that day, he hadn’t given much thought to the passing of time. he was aware of it, certainly, but it had never weighed on his mind as it did. dedicating himself to human ideals meant noticing and appreciating when the year ended and another began, looking out over the city from ground level.

it also meant that when he looked up, he recognized the stars held within the night’s tapestry.

lapis dei. the stone of god. it hadn’t appeared until several years into his place among liyue’s harbor, and only a few months before his planned failure during the right of decension. his vision was glass, and yet it weighed heavy as jade against his back that night, the name settling against his heart like a snake around a sun-warm stone.

it was not that night that he sought. as your traveller had roamed the world, it was to be expected that you may have your pick of companions, and it made sense than an archon (however retired) would be among them. no, the day that had just closed, that left him with now cold tea, was not something as simple as a rearrangement of false stars.

it was that a special set of six had flowed brighter. it was that, before he could blink, he had been pulled into the sky. his teapot was in front of him one moment, and the. it was gone the next, replaced by sprawling clouds and a voice he’d never heard. all the same, you were familiar, a memory he did not hold but could still feel the shape of.

he had waited for years to feel this light. to be held in a sea of stars and to be something of desire, something the one who had all wanted. it was, in his mind, a final act of defiance against celestia, and a firm bind of his loyalty despite the distance between him and you.

(he asked, at first, for a contract to prove it, but you had just laughed. it made sense. he still wondered if you were laughing at the impossibility of the idea of you being limited by mortal paper or laughing at him for suggesting it.)

those years, however, were spent doing just that: waiting. sure, he busied himself with the harbor and considered himself as doing a rather good job as blending in with the people around him, but he was not a fool. to be worth someone’s time was to have something to offer.

equally, he was not some unsteady, sobbing servant. he did not win his seat in celestia through pacifism. he did not sprout stone forests without power within his hands. he felt nothing but pride as a new polearm was placed into his hands, hefting its weight. the stars faded and he was left in unfamiliar territory, led to a group of enemies that snatched up their weapons the moment he got close.

for good reason, he’d thought, leaning into your touch as you guided his hands to pull a stele from the earth. pure geo wrapped around his shoulders—a skill he hadn’t needed to use for several decades now; he’d have to brush up once you were done with him. that was secondary, though, to the planet befall collecting over his shoulder. already, undead habits rose to the surface of his mind, preparing for the dust to settle and his spear to once again seek blood.

but his opponents were not left frail and weak by his show of skill. within seconds, they shed the stone he’d built around them, looking little more than annoyed.

why?

his spear glanced off their armor without so much as a scratch, despite the force with which he swung it. you pulled him in and out of range of their swords, far too dodgy to be handling an archon.

why did it seem like he wasn’t doing a thing? why, when a crossbow bolt clipped his shoulder, did it feel like the shot had passed through his chest instead? you clicked your tongue like a parent who’s child had done something they weren’t supposed to and he was back in the skyless sea, watching distantly as unfamiliar vision wielders took his place with well-worn precision. he was barely bleeding, the shift of his coat over the scratch shouldn’t feel like he was dying, and his spear should not have been so blunt. he drew it again, testing the edge with a finger, and it caught the fibers of his gloves with ease. he could feel the steel itself hum under his touch, a fine, razor point despite the repeated reflections.

it was only then that zhongli had begun to worry.

he’d heard countless stories from both near and far about the feats of strength normal people could wield when under your blessing. why was he not affected by it? why did it feel instead like all of his strength had been sapped from him, leaving him unable to even nick a bandit’s skin? had he made a mistake somewhere?

what would you think? an archon made helpless. offering you his strength was one of the pitiful few ways left he could help within the bounds of his contract with celestia, and now it was gone.

or had you noticed how he had faltered? how he had slipped from being zhongli for a moment, and decided to punish him for it? would this state last beyond your influence? no, you weren’t so cruel as to leave him helpless for one mistake. and yet, his mind fell to late nights, wondering if his worries had crossed time and space to reach your ears.

it was a plain truth in zhongli’s mind that the only thing he had left to offer you was his strength. he had no stories you had not heard, no wisdom you did not already know, no information left for him to speak. was this a lesson of some sort? but why not tell him directly? your voice had cooed in his ear as a war plume was tucked into his lapel, talking about domains and rolls he didn’t understand, but could hear as clear as jade.

and yet. you led him on a few more walks through valleys and plains, the few interactions with enemies either sprinted away from or leaving him tucked on a shelf while your better equipped followers attended to the problem. when it was over, his house felt too oppressive, the pot barely moved off the stove before he pushed open the door and took to the earthen path.

it was the lantern rite, he lied, his vision heavy against his spine. it pressed against his lower back and swayed when he walked, like the guiding hand of one treading alongside him, except the streets were empty and he had little to blame but himself.

did you know it was his birthday? did you blame him for having one?

did you know that that single day with you had only pushed sleep further away from his grasp? did you know that he could not change the past, no matter how hard he tried? if he’d not signed that contract with celestia then he would not have been here to witness your golden messenger. was he not meant to?

why not tell him? or had you already? had he missed something, somehow? when? was it during the war, when his memories were still colored by his selfishness? what lesson was he supposed to learn from helplessness?

was this some indication that you preferred him as a human, without the earth-shaking power he had held with his gnosis? but why lower him to the strength of an insect? he didn’t know.

zhongli was not insecure. he was proud of his new life and had not been given any reason to doubt that self assurance. even now, he did not regret it, only… wondered. wondered, and thought, and pondered, and mused, and ruminated, and reviewed, and every other verb one could apply to the deep, unsettling feeling that he had made missed something somewhere, and the rapidly growing need to find it.

[backwoodssbby]

Locker Room Sex

Stephen Curry x Black Fem Reader

A/N: I wrote this for my pleasure. I AM TWENTY, so there is an age difference. I am sorry if you don't like the age gap, but I still am obsessed with this FINE ASS man so don't judge me, judge ya mammy.

Warning: Age Gap! Dirty Talk! Cheating! Swearing! Unprotected Sex!

Summary: You were messaging Steph Curry for a while and then eventually he ghosts you. You were desperately in need to talk to him. For reasons. For answers, on what exactly is going on. You sneak in the Golden State locker room and you definitely get more than answers.

You greeted and told the guys goodbye and goodnight as they left the locker room. He was the only one left in the locker room taking a shower. He turned the shower off and came out with a towel wrapped around his waist. You look at his body. He was very toned for a 35 year old. You bite your lips and start imagining him with the towel dropped.

“Uh… can I help you?” He asks you kind of sternly. You look at him nervously. “Uh yeah. May I get an interview?” He looks at you, “You’re not an actual interviewer.” Reading right through your bullshit. “I’ve heard of ABC, ESPN, and Ballislife. Never have I heard of Big Balls Entertainment.” He reads your fake ass badge your best friend made you.

You swallow hard and you try to come up with a new lie, but you can't. Honestly, you only here to talk to Stephen Curry and possibly even fuck him. But you obviously know the plan is blown, so you walk out. He grabs your arm.

“You know fans can’t be back here either. You can go to jail.” He tells you. You sigh. “I just wanted to see you. You stopped replying to my messages.” He looks at you, “Wait, you’re the girl that I was snapping.” You bite your lips and shake your head before you look down. “And when you stopped texting me, I had to find a way to see you and talk to you.” He starts examining your body as you are talking. “Aye my eyes are up here.” You say sternly. He chuckles, “My bad.” He clears his throat. “Look. I have a wife. I have three kids. I can’t be doing this with you.” You look at him and nod you head. “You’re right. I’m so sorry.” You say as you get up to leave the locker room.

You don’t know why you thought your plan was going to work. You two are 15 years apart. He has a family. You just want him back though. You guys were only talking and sending nudes through Snapchat. It shouldn’t have got this deep as in you sneaking into the Golden State locker room.

A voice comes back to the locker room. It’s Klay. Steph and you run to the shower room and you hide in there as Steph puts on some clean boxers and goes back into the locker room. You listen to their conversation until Klay says he has to go home to see his doggie son, Rocco. He leaves and it’s just you and Steph. You were about to leave and he grabs your arm again.

“Nah. Wait a minute. You can’t leave yet.” He says. You look at him confused, “Maybe we can hook up one time.” He says before caressing your body. “You just said you don’t want to be caught up with me.” You say biting your lip as he squeezes your boobs.

Steph wanted you now. It’s only because he remembered his wife was going for two weeks for a cooking show. The kids were with his parents. So you could be his little cum eater while his wife was away. It wasn’t like Ayesha would care. He can just dispose of you when he got done.

You strip down and go inside the shower room taking your clothes with you. You wanted shower sex and he wanted the same. He smiles at your naked body before you disappear and follows you. He takes his boxers off and pushes you down on your knees.

“You said if you were to see me, you’d suck it.” He smirks. “Do it.”

You start with his tip and slowly lower down an inch. His dick is really big and thick. It’s kind of hard to swallow. You’re a big girl though, so you push through. Eventually you’re damn near eating his dick up.

“My balls need love too.” He says and pushes your head down. You bite your lip before you start sucking on his balls. He smiles and groans even more. You smile knowing you're doing a good job. “Fuck, I’m going to cum.” You go back to sucking and stroking his dick with one hand and massaging his balls with the other and he rolls his eyes in the back of his head. “Fuck, you’re a good at giving head.” He says. “Young ass eater.” He chuckles.

He starts fucking your throat. You start gagging at how rough he is getting with you, but it only motivates him to be rougher with your throat. He hits the back of your throat once and he starts nutting in your throat. You swallow it all. Eventually, he pulls out to see if you did. You smile and stick out your tongue. He smiles.

“Good girl.” He says. You stand up and he admires your wet body. He sucks on your neck and lowers to your nipples. He starts rubbing your clit and he smiles. “You want me to return the favor now or later.” You bite your lips, “Later. I need that dick.” You say.

He picks you up and slides you down his dick. You gasp and hang your mouth open, moaning a sweet note in his ear. He starts thrusting in and out of you. He proceeds to go faster and choke you a bit.

“You take this dick so good, baby girl.” He says groaning in your ear. “And your pussy is so fucking wet.” You whimper. “Ooh shit. You’re so deep. You’re so deep.” He smirks and goes harder. Your legs begin to shake. You’re on the verge of climax already. “Steph. Chill. I’m going to cum.” He chuckles, “Nah. Take it.” He says and goes harder. You try to grip the wall. “Mm, fuck daddy.”

He turns the shower off and heads back to the bench. The steam from the water was making it kind of hard to see. He lays you down with his dick still inside you. He pulls out and starts eating your creamy pussy. You start moaning and gripping the edges. His head game was vicious, it almost made you cum. Then he rams his dick back in roughly. You scream out. He chokes you.

“Chill the fuck out. You can’t be too loud, ma,” He says. You bite your lips. He begins to pound your shit in. “Ooh. Ooh Steph! I told you to chill. I’m going to cum.” He smacks your boobs and goes deeper. “Nah. Say my name.” He groans. “Oh daddy.” You say low. “Loud ma.” He says. “Fuck! Daddy! I’m coming.” You say louder. He chuckles and starts back pounding you. You let out a long moan before creaming his dick up. He looks down, “Yeah. That’s right. Paint this dick.” You cover your face as he starts going deeper. You try to push him away but he just pins your hands above your head.

Suddenly, he starts going faster and faster then you feel his warm liquid fill inside you. He groans in your ear as he does it. He pulls out and watches you leak out both of your juices. He looks down at you as you look at him. The two of you laugh at each other. You sigh and get up.

“Now, I got to shower.” You say and run to the shower. He joins you and you two just shower. You two get dressed and walk out to the parking garage together. He kisses you and rubs all over your body. He practically didn’t want to let go of you. You very slowly break the kiss and giggle. “Chill.” You smile. “You should come with me tonight.” He says. You think about it. You don’t mind but you would rather lay in your own bed tonight. “Nah. I’m going home. Maybe if you need me again, I can stay over.” He smiles, “Ight, lil ma.” You blush and get in your car and he gets in his. He honks his horn as a goodbye and you go to your house.

[niko-jpeg]

MOOT APPRECIATION

@vessel-posts-stuff I know you haven't been on that account in years, but I still wanted to include you. Thank you for introducing me to Tumblr and allowing me to make such wonderful friends. I think of you quite often <3

@v1vz-arttt We're moots on your old account, and while you didn't refollow me (?), I still love you!!!!!! Thank you for everything my good friend :)

@adorablemew Mew!!! Oh my god hi we haven't talked in forever. How did I get someone so cool to be my moot? Your art is incredible, your creations are wonderful, and thank you so much for putting up with me back in my previous Undertale fixation. You inspired me greatly.

@psycho-chair BITES YOU. You have been an inspiration for me forever at this point and I thank you for being just!!! YOU!!!! We need to chat more fr fr. You helped me through a rough time, no matter if you were aware of it or not. Also good to see another Crepic shipper here on the front lines. Sorta unrelated but I'm so glad my secret little otp has gotten a little more traction. You keep being you buddy grrrhshjfskjdhfdkjjksjkh <33333

@glitchysquidd Another instance of HOLY hell how did I get such a cool art moot???? You're really cool. I go feral over your art, whether youre aware of it or not. I love your vibe, your aesthetic, your everthing. Its so cool. You're so cool. A.

@thosegoodbois We don't interact much these days, but I still think of our conversations often. I like how unabashedly you you are. Its refreshing and fun and I still enjoy scrolling through your posts and seeing you on my dash. Tee hee.

@skyedancer2006 Hi hi!!!! We met because of a Secret Santa, and I'm happy we're moots. I love seeing you guys on my dash, and I love seeing the positivity yall bring to it all. Keep it up, and if I referred to you incorrectly, I am so sorry ack.

@bean-with-a-knife grabs your shoulders and shakes you. You are so. the most ever. We've been besties forever, and I'm so happy to have you as a friend. You keep me going, and encourage me when I'm not so sure, and you put up with my bullshit, and I absolutely love you big ol platonic kiss for you. Thank you for everything you've done for me.

@naaru304 HI!!!!!! You're so cool. I know we don't really talk but I really really like seeing you on my dash and you reblog all of the best stuff. YOUR ART IS SO EDIBLE ACK. Its so round and clean and just. Stuffs in my mouth and shakes it around and giggles cutely. I love it.

@p3-mochishira HI!!!!! Vamp you are such a moot. I love your edits and I love your ocs and I love your whole vibe. You light up my day and I'm so happy that we're moots. Big ol hug sent your way!!!

@queen-ofsunflowers oh my god you are such a cool author. And we're moot what. WHAT. AAAA!!!!! I really look up to you, and MnM is such a treasure I hold close to my heart. I look forward to whatever is in the future, and I wish you nothing but the absolute best in this coming year.

@mmmn-thirsty-for-vinegar Yet another cool incredible mutual I don't know how I landed with. Your art? incredible. The posing and lighting is immaculate. I love all of your art so much, and you're a big old inspiration foundtain haha. <3

@yoshikass HI!!!!!!!! I love your reblogs. I love the variety. I love everything. Your blog's vibe is also so much fun. You keep being you <33

@dollar-store-emo-413 Your brain is fascinating. Congrats on your freedom from our hell, and I wish you luck on your future /lh!! (for context we went to the same school)

@snowdoesthings Man. It's been forever and a half huh. I'm happy we're still moots, and I'm happy that we still kind of brush shoulders sometimes. I'm sorry you had to deal with 2020 me haha. Love you <3

@dexxeal Im in the walls of the Miku chruch btw can you come let me out I'm stuck.

@mhafanlol2000 Happy new year and I wish I'd see you around on HKRP more often ahah! See you in the new year :)

@cordycepsbian You're so cool. Like wow. I love everything about what you post. Your humor is so on point and your art is so skrunkly I'm obsessed.

@vivasharme Its so nice to see you again!!! I missed you a lot while you were away. I hope you're feeling better, and I can't wait to get back to talking soon. I'm gonna blow up your dms hee hee >:) /j

@someguyiguess23 Your art!!!!! Its so awesome I'm eating it and framing it and just. Nom. I hold the art you did of Nago dear to my heart. Your art is so shape!!!!

@christiankirbo Poyo

@mantis-on-a-table I adore your art so much. I have so many cool art moots but I especially love what you've got going on. Its so high quality and tickles my brain in such a wonderful way!!! Happy New Year!!

@extreme-exe water (you're a really great friend, never forget that!)

@wintar0 Hi!!!! We dont talk much but you're a wonderful moot. Best of wishes for the new year, and I can't wait to see more of you and your creations!!!

@drallion No, not for Drallion, for his creator! You've been such a delight in HKRP, I'm so happy I get to know you. <3333

@rentavoider Hi hi hi have fun on your trip to Italy and see you next year!!!

@crownne-prince !!!! HI!!!!Thank you for being such an incredible and encouraging moot. You really cheer me up and I love seeing your posts on my dash. Akechi is in your walls fun fact.

@lemmykirby Your art is so cool. I love the style and I love how its executed and bottom line I just. runs away with your art tee hee

@jayjar100 YOU!!! YOU ARE SO COOL NEVER FORGET THAT!!!!!!! I loved drawing your baby forever ago, and I think about them constantly. In fact I have some extra doodles laying around that I probably should post haha.

@kotoneshiomiofficial You are so right. About everything. All of the time. You are correct and are the coolest trans fox girl I have ever met and I think you're awesome. Big ol heart for you <33333333

@finleyforevermore Hi Finnley. Thank you so much for everything. You are such a light, and a huge encouragement, and thank you for enjoying my HPII content (theres more cooking up trust me). You're a precious moot of mine, and I don't think I can ever describe how much I like your posts. And the fandoms we have in common? Incredible. UMTV, RTC, HPII, Sonic, etc. Like wow. I love it !!!!!! <3333

@i-do-not-exist-hun I LOVE YOU AND YOUR EVERYTHING ILL PROBABLY GO INSANE IN YOUR DMS LATER TELLING YOU EVERYTHING THANK YOU SO MUCH I LOVE YOU AND YOUR WORK THANK YOU FOR BEING THERE FOR ME BIG HUG

and finally @box-o. My darling partner in crime and girlfriend. I love you so much, and cannot wait to spend another year with you. Your art is so cartoony and fun, and thank you for passing the Sonic (no, not the metal) virus on to me. Heres to another year <3

[mountschelsea]

Enough is enough (2/2)

-not my gif-

Request- Something with mason where he stops being the hands on dad that you are used to and going out with his friends whenever he is free. You try talk to him about it and it ends in a fight. You need help so you go stay at your parents for a couple of weeks leaving mason to reflect and realise what an idiot he is. He comes to see you and sort things out and the baby is really happy to see him. Happy ending please xxx

_

You left that night. 

Mason came home a couple hours later to find a note you left him. 

Mason, 

I can’t do this anymore. I have put up with this bullshit for to long and i’m over it.You don’t care about me or your child.I need to get away from you and this situation.Eva deserves better. I deserve better. Im not going to sit around making promises to her i cant keep. Don’t reach out. I think we both need time away. I really love you and Eva does too. Goodbye Mason. 

Mason being a man obviously didn’t care that you asked him not to reach out. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and started texting you non stop. He rang and rang your phone. He left so many voicemails he fulled up your inbox and couldn’t leave anymore. 

Mason eventually fell asleep. 

You on the other hand were still driving to your parents house, you had no idea what they would say or even if they would let you stay with them. You had no other choice. You knew mason would go to every single on of your friends house looking for you. 

About an hour later you were there. Sat outside the house you left years ago not on good terms. You sat there for about 20 minutes building up the courage to ring the door bell. Finally you were ready. 

Your finger hovered over the button. As you thought for a split second ‘am i actually going to do this’. You did. 

You heard your mum shout for your dad to open the door. You were deep in your thoughts when your dads voice cut through them. 

“y/n?” He saw your red puffy eyes. He took a while taking every detail of his little girl he hadnt seen in years. Until the landed on the baby carrier. His heart dropped. ‘He was a grandad?’

“Paul whats taking so long the house is getting cold.” Your mum muttered as she came to the door. 

“Y/n baby?” She quickly noticed the baby and your crying eyes. 

“Paul go get their bags.Come in sweetie.” 

You entered everything looked the same. A few new pictures but other than that it was the same. 

“Listen mum...” you were quickly interupted. 

“Did he hurt you?” 

“Mum i can..” you were cut off again.

“Did that boy lay his hands on my little girl.” your dad butted in.

“No” you finally got out. 

“Look mum dad i will explain every thing tomorrow i just need to sleep.” just as you finished talking Eva started to cry. 

“Don’t worry y/n we can handle her you go sleep.” 

“are you sure?” 

“i’m a mum remember, we’ll be fine” 

you gave her a small smile before you left to go upstairs. 

_ 

The next day you woke up to your phone ringing. Again and again. It seems mason had informed everyone you left and told them to try get in touch’. You replied to Lauren and Sofia explaining the whole situation and they promised not to tell Dec or Kai anything. You put your phone back on the bedside table and went to brush your teeth and do your skin care. 

Just as you walked back in, your phone started vibrating. It was Mason. Again. 

You don’t know what came over you put you answered. 

“Y/n?” Mason said letting out a long breath. 

“Mason i told you I needed space”

“Y/n please I’m sorry just come home”. 

“No Mason I told you...” you were cut off by mason desperately speaking again.

“I know what you said, but I cant do this without you. Without Eva. Please. I know i messed up. I’m sorry. I’ll change.”

“Mason you know I can’t.”

“Where are you guys. I’ll come. We’ll talk. We can get through this.” 

“I’m not telling where we are Mason. I’ve told you so many times. I need time and space.”

“Well I’m sorry for not want my child to stay in some random hotel.” 

“We’re not in a hotel.”

“Come on Y/n, I’ve been to everyones house looking for you. Cut the bullshit.” 

“NO MASON! YOU CUT THE BULLSHIT! OUR DAUGHTER IS SAFE AND HAPPY, SHE HASN’T EVEN ASKED FOR YOU ONCE! YOU ACT AS IF I’M TAKING HER AWAY FROM YOU WHEN YOU WERE NEVER THERE AT HOME. WE WILL TALK WHEN I WANT TO TALK.” You snapped at him before ending the call. 

It wasn’t your ideal start to the day but what could you do. 

You decided to go downstairs to get something to eat. You came down to Eva laughing at your Dad pulling funny faces and your mum cooking. 

_

You have been at your parents a week now. You explained the whole thing to them expecting a ‘I told you so’ but all you got back was an apology. They said sorry for everything. For losing touch, for the way they acted the night you left and for not coming to your wedding. 

You finally had decided to go home. 

You packed up your’s and Eva’s things. You had an emotional goodbye with your parents and promised to stay in touch and then you were finally on the road again. 

About an hour had past and you were pulling into the driveway of your’s and Mason’s shared home. You saw his car parked out side which meant he was in. You turned the car off and hesitantly got out. You were to tired to get your stuff out now so you only brought Eva’s baby bag. 

You unlocked the door to see Mason stood there, he looked as if he hadn’t slept since you left. Eva was asleep as you carefully placed her carrier down. You shut the door behind you and you stood there for what felt like years but was only seconds.

Suddenly Mason started walking towards you and quickly grabbed you into the tightest hug ever. You went to speak before mason got there before you. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I can’t live without you. I need you. You and Eva are all i will ever need. I’m a stupid idiot. I was selfish and I can 100% see why you left but I can never live without you, so please forgive me. Please give me a second chance. I will never ever disrespect you ever again. I love you so much, I need you to survive.” 

You stared at him for a moment before speaking. 

“You are an idiot, but I love and need you too.”

_ Veryyy rushed and not proofread but i need more requests so please send some xx

[skvatnavle]

Luckiest man alive

Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader

Warnings: Pregnant reader, SMUT! fingering, penetrative sex, fluff and a little surprise 😉

Notes: It's maybe a little OOC for Jake, but it had to be written after my soft talk with @mmurdock85 😉

And once again a huge thank you to @a-reader-and-a-writer for beta reading and for lending me her dividers. Couldn't do this without you, Vee 💜

Oh, and it takes place a few years after the movie.

Words: a little shy of 2K

Opening the door to the little house near the base, he breathes a sigh of relief. Finally home. He walks past Charlie, snoring loudly on his little doggy bed. One leg twitching, like he’s chasing something, but he doesn’t wake up as Jake walks past.

“I’m cutting down on your treats. You’re the worst guard dog ever.”

“Hey, even the toughest guys need a break.”

He looks to the side and see you standing there, a wide smile on your beautiful face. How is it even possible for you to get more beautiful for each passing day? 

“Hey sweetheart.”

He tries to give his best smile, but he knows you can tell something is wrong. You’re the one person who knows him the best, who can always see through all his bullshit. You cup his face, your thumbs gently caressing his cheeks.

“Are you okay, Jake?”

“Yeah, it's fine.”

He tries to shrug it off, still smiling. No need to make you worry. You always concern yourself too much and it’s usually because of him, whether it’s a mission or if he has made a new enemy.

“I know you. What is it?”

He reaches up and gently takes your hands in his, rubbing the back of your hands with his thumbs. Sighing, he looks up into your eyes, full of worry.

“I got into a… discussion and things turned a little heated. But I was right, and you know I-”

“You have to be the best.”

He just nods. You know him. Even knew him when he was at his, what some would say, worst. Maybe he could be an asshole at times, but he had the credentials to back it up. Recently made Commander and the only man in active duty to have shot down three enemy aircrafts, he knew he was good. Hell, he was more than good, he was the best. But honestly, he dialed it down the last few years. Today this new guy Jackal just got to him, and he lost it for a split second.

“But this was different. He… He called me an asshole.”

He always acts tough, but around you there’s no need. You always see right through it. But that’s one of the things he loves about you. With you, he can be himself. Still, he can’t help but feel that maybe Jackal was right. He looks up into your eyes.

“Why do you put up with me?”

“Because” you remove your hands from his and cradle his face, placing a soft kiss on his lips, “You may be too confident for your own good and, I’m sorry honey, a jackass at work. But you always leave Hangman at the base. Here… You’re just my Jake.”

You pull him into your arms, giving him a much-needed hug. He really didn’t deserve you, but he was thankful you thought so.

“My sweet and caring Jake who happens to be a pretty good cook and a damn fine lover.”

“Only ‘Damn fine’?” he asks, cocking an eyebrow at you. 

“Okay, okay. You’re the best.”

He pumps his fist in the air and gives you that signature Hangman smirk. The smirk you never seem to be able to resist. He cups your cheek, giving you a soft kiss, but it’s still enough to make you moan against him. He can never get enough of you, but luckily you feel the same.

“I love you, Mrs. Seresin.”

“And I love you, Commander Seresin. And he does too.”

You look down and softly caress your bump. At 5 months pregnant, the bump is really starting to show more for each passing day. Especially in the new dresses you had- wait… Did you just say?

“Wait… he?!”

You cringe, looking sorry as you apologetically throw up your hands, when you see the shock on his face. But soon the shock is replaced by pure joy. He’s not even mad, just so excited to get a boy.

“I’m so sorry. The doctor asked and I… I caved. You know I have no backbone.”

“Yeah, I know. Took me next to nothing to get you into bed.”

You punch his shoulder. He just grins, pulling you into his embrace. Cupping your face, his beautiful blue eyes find yours.

“And luckily you never left.”

He kisses you softly, before moving his hands move down to caress your bump. The feeling of love is almost overwhelming, almost scary. He gives you a huge smile, as his eyes shine with joy.

“A boy…”

“Yeah, another Seresin man to torture me.”

Jake can already picture the little boy running around, being a menace. Unable to stop smiling, he gives you another soft kiss, looking at the bump again.

He then looks up to the little chain around your neck. Tracing the metal with his fingers before taking it off of you. There is a wedding ring in it that he gently takes off the chain and put it on. Curiously, you trace the gold band on his finger, before looking into his eyes.

“Why do you always leave your ring with me?”

“I leave my heart here every day. Might as well let you guard my ring too.”

And he really does. Leave his heart with you every day. You’re the only woman who’s ever made him feel this way and he could never imagine living without you. Moving his hand up to cup the back of your head, he pulls you closer until his lips meet yours. The kiss starts out soft, but as he deepens it, he pours every ounce of his love into it. The love for you and the love for your unborn child. Breaking away, he rests his forehead against yours, smiling wide. You giggle softly, your hands coming to rest on his chest.

“That was such a cheesy line.”

“Not as cheesy as the first one I used on you.”

“God, don’t remind me.” Giggling softly, you waddle away towards the kitchen, but he grabs your hand, stopping you. No way he would let you strain yourself.

“Nah, darling. Let me.”

You sit down on a stool by the counter as Jake gets to work in the kitchen. Taking out the vegetables, he begins chopping as he feels your eyes on him. He was a horrible cook when you first met, but he soon learned how much you loved food and even more how much you loved watching him work in the kitchen. 

So he practiced. Watched countless episodes of MasterChef and failed numerous times, but like everything else in his life, he worked hard and became the best. Well, maybe not the best in this field, but pretty damned close.

“So, we gotta start talking baby names.” he says softly, looking at you over his shoulder, before he resumes chopping some onions. 

“I actually have an idea. How about Bradley?”

Jake turns slowly and points the knife playfully at you, putting on a fake angry face.

“Over my dead body. I like the guy, but hell no,” he pauses, turning slowly to put the knife down. “Could you imagine if the kid grows up and wants a mustache like that?”

He shudders before laughing. Over the years, he’d actually come to like Rooster. Would even call him a good friend. But no way in hell he’d name his kid after him. Rooster would never let him hear the end of it.

“Well, you give me one then.”

Oh, he knows you’ll hate it, but since you wanna tease, he’ll tease you right back. 

“Isn’t it obvious? Jake junior.”

“Oh, I love that. But only if he gets my name as his middle name.” you shoot back sarcastically, trying to keep a straight face, but he can see the way the corner of your mouth twitches softly. 

“Hmm, not Jake then.”

He winks and returns to cut up some bell peppers. As he works on the food, you talk back and forth about names. Throwing another name at you, he walks to the fridge and takes out a beer and some soda, giving the latter to you. Placing a soft kiss on your hair, he returns to the cutting board.

“Oh, by the way. Bob’s coming over for dinner.”

It’s been a while since he saw Bob last, seeing as he’s been on an assignment overseas. Apparently, he was stateside again and back in Lemoore. Suddenly, it hits Jake. He looks at you, smiling.

“What do you think about Robert?”

Confused, you frown as you look at him. 

“What do I think about him? I love him… Isn’t that a dumb question? He’s my brother.”

“No, I… I meant for the baby.”

A huge grin spreads on your face as you realize what he just said. Jake can’t help but smile when he sees how happy you look.

“You’d wanna name him after Bob?”

Jake lays down the knife, before walking over to you. Turning the chair so you’re facing him, he gives you a sweet smile as his hands land on your thighs, caressing them softly.

“Why not? The best damn fighter pilot as a dad and named after his uncle, the best WSO there ever was. He’ll be top of his class in no time.”

“Yeah, easy there, Hangman. Maybe he wants to follow in my footsteps.”

He just smirks. You rarely use his callsign, but he loves it when you do. He gives your thighs a gentle squeeze, not failing to notice how the touch makes you squirm.

“Nah, with that legacy, that kid will be a legend.”

“If he’s anything like his dad, he’ll be the best.”

You bite your lip, giving him an innocent look. But Jake knows there’s nothing innocent about it. He looks at his watch, before looking deep into your eyes while moving his hands under your dress, slowly moving his hands up your thighs.

“How long before Bob gets here?”

“An hour.”

You answer, breathing already strained. Moving his hands down under your thighs, he lifts you up onto the counter in one swift move with a huge, exaggerated groan, as if he just lifted a ton. You punch his shoulder.

“You are an asshole.”

“Yeah, but I’m your asshole.”

He smirks before capturing your lips in a passionate kiss. After removing your dress, he stops to take you in. Even now, as you slowly get bigger and softer, you’ve never been more gorgeous, sexier. Leaning in, he kisses down the column of your neck, pulling sweet moans from you. 

He moves down to your chest, taking a nipple in his mouth. Throwing your head back, you whimper his name. They’re already so sensitive, so he can’t even imagine what it’ll be like when the baby comes. His free hand finds your core, already soaking wet for him.

“Fuck Jake, just… Please just fuck me. I need you.”

Making quick work of his belt and pants, he strokes himself a few times before pushing into you. And as he does, he looks at your face, eyes closed in pure ecstasy. You’re truly a beautiful sight and you really make him the happiest man alive.

Thank you so much for reading <3

Tagging: @loverhymeswith @lucy-sky @fictionalnerdery @green-socks @srry-itshockeyszn @jakelcckley @blindedbyyourgrace17 @joalsglasses @sparrows-corner @multifandom-fangirl4 @lluckpng @autumnleaves1991-reads @chasingdreamer @edwardbaldwin @wildbornsiren @weasleywinchester @mayhem24-7forever

[tchallasbabymama]

Don't Forget About Us

Hello, my lovelies. Here’s my contribution to @nahimjustfeelingit-writes smut challenge (the prompt is in bold!) Let’s see what Erik’s up to now, shall we?

Don’t forget to check out my masterlist to read my other stories and oneshots. Your comments and reblogs mean the world to me, so make sure to let me know what you think! And let me know if you want to be tagged in any of my writing. Enjoy😘

Word count: 5,595

CW: smut...duh.

“So, what do you do for a living?”

Kayla sighed internally at the question and took a sip of her Pinot Grigio. She hated first dates with a burning passion, but unfortunately, that was the only way to find a man around here. She went through the motions of politely answering his questions, barely asking any of her own. She didn’t care. Even just fifteen minutes in, Kayla could tell he didn’t excite her, and she lamented the waste of a good outfit as she listened to him drone on about his life. Every now and then, he’d stop and ask a question about her, but she could tell he was only asking so he could talk more about himself.

How many siblings do you have?

What’s your sign?

Why did your last relationship end?

Her mind traveled to her ex-boyfriend, Erik Stevens. They had spent six blissful years together, and Kayla thought he was the one. She wanted them to get married and start a family, and she thought he did, too, but every time she brought it up, he’d find some excuse to change the subject. At thirty years old, Kayla wasn’t getting any younger, so she grew tired of his avoidance and eventually cut him loose. She needed more out of life, but the guy currently sitting across from her certainly wasn’t it.

“We wanted different things,” she answered vaguely and took another sip. It would be a long night with what’s-his-name. David? Devon? Whatever. At least he had money and took her to a nice restaurant.

Darryl took the opportunity to bore her with the details of his job, which Kayla already knew. He was a colleague of her best friend, Carina’s husband. They worked at the same law firm, and Carina decided to hook them up after tiring of hearing Kayla complain about dating apps. As much as Kayla hated Tinder, she would’ve much rather been at home on her couch swiping left on the cesspool of single men Oakland had to offer. Every few dozen swipes or so, she’d find a cutie, but his bio would be abysmal, or his conversation skills would fall flat.

Despite the fact that their relationship just couldn’t make it, Kayla still thought of Erik as the gold standard. Just thinking about his dimples and his struggle beard made her smile dreamily. His big, strong arms would wrap around her and hold her tight at night, and she’d trace her fingers over the intentionally placed keloid scars that held his darkest secrets. She missed retwisting his locs and the way he always smelled like sandalwood and warm vanilla. Kayla didn’t want to admit it, but she still loved him. No man could compare to her Erik.

“Hello? Kayla?”

“Huh? Oh, sorry. Can you repeat that last part?”

“Uh, yeah, sure. What’s got you so distracted, babygirl?”

Kayla fought the bile rising in her throat. She wasn’t his babygirl. It didn’t even sound right coming from his mouth. Maybe it was the thinness of his lips. They weren’t “white man” thin, but they couldn’t hold a candle to the juicy pussy pleasers she had grown accustomed to.

“Nothing, just thought I saw somebody I know. You were saying?”

“Just that you look beautiful tonight,” Damon attempted to flirt with her.

Kayla wanted to roll her eyes but thanked him instead and smiled politely again. Of course she looked beautiful; she had pulled out all the stops for what she had hoped would be a good night out. Kayla had squeezed her thickness into a lavender satin dress. The way the dress’s skirt cinched on the side kept it snug around her plush waist, but the high slit that traveled up her thigh was the main attraction. The strappy silver heels on her feet showed off her matching pedicure that contrasted beautifully with her glistening brown skin, and her makeup was flawless. Her outerwear for the night, a cropped fur jacket that had found its way to the coat check when they arrived, was the icing on the cake. Her outfit deserved the appreciation, just not from Deshawn.

The waiter saved her from having to focus on her date when she brought out the food they had ordered. Since Kayla knew Derek had money, she had ordered the whole lobster, and she fought her mouth from drooling too much as the waiter set it down in front of her. It laid on a bed of forbidden rice, and the side of roasted brussels sprouts and cremini mushrooms looked heavenly. The ramekin of drawn butter off to the side tempted her as it sat next to the minuscule seafood fork. She may not enjoy her company for the evening, but Kayla damn sure was going to enjoy her meal.

“Looks good,” Dominic called from the other side of the table, breaking Kayla from her trance as he cut into his wagyu beef.

“Sure does.” Kayla wasted no time before digging into her meal. Not only was it the perfect excuse to avoid conversation, but it was perfect, period.

A slight chill permeated the air as the door swung open and the crisp January air entered the small restaurant. Kayla shivered as she complained internally about being forced to sit near the door, but that shiver intensified as she heard a voice. His voice.

“Reservation for Stevens, please.”

Kayla stilled.

“Of course. Right this way, sir,” the maitre d’ responded, and Kayla heard three sets of footsteps coming her way.

--------

“Babe, let’s go!”

“Yell at me one more time, woman,” Erik warned as he came around the corner into the living room, fastening his watch.

“I swear, you take more time getting ready than I do.”

“Whatever, Mo. You ready?”

“Nigga, I been ready!”

Erik rolled his eyes and grabbed his keys. It would be a rough night, and things were already starting off on a bad foot. He and Monique had been seeing each other for the better part of a year, and he’d finally reached his limit. She was overbearing, rude, and just after him for his money, but he hated being alone, so he put up with her bullshit. His cousin, T’Challa, had tried to hook him up with a few ladies back in Wakanda when he went to visit after his breakup, but nothing stuck. Almost immediately after coming back to the states, Erik met Monique at a charity event for the Outreach Center. She had the singing voice of an angel and had been booked as the entertainment for the evening. Erik was drawn to her like a sailor to a siren, and she immediately sank her teeth into him. Past her vocal talents, Monique wasn’t really anything special. Her personality left a lot to be desired, she wasn’t the sharpest crayon in the box, and she just wasn’t her.

The moment Kayla ended their relationship a year ago, Erik’s whole world shattered. He had lived a life full of pain and loss, but Kayla had been his lifeline. She pulled him out of the dark and made him revel in the sunshine. Hell, she was the sunshine, but now he had settled for a UV lamp at best. Kayla had wanted a life that Erik was too scared to give her, but that fear became his downfall. He still missed her most nights. He was lonely, and Monique was there to keep him company, but that wasn’t enough for him anymore. Erik craved a connection that Monique just couldn’t provide. So he decided he had to break it off and figured that doing so in a public place would probably be best. She had a tendency to throw things when she got angry.

The car ride to Chez Martine was tense. Monique had been angry all day because Erik had taken back his credit card even though she wanted to buy a new dress for their date. Her lousy mood almost made him dump her back at his condo, but Erik kept a cool head and stayed focused on the plan. He ignored the way Monique complained the entire time she got ready, reluctantly putting on a dress he had seen her wear before. It didn’t matter to him; he knew what the night held.

When they walked into the restaurant, Erik’s heart dropped into his stomach. He’d recognize that shoulder blade tattoo anywhere. She had cut off all her hair and lost a few pounds, but he knew for sure that he was looking at Kayla. His Kayla. He forced himself to look straight ahead as they passed her table and prayed that the maitre d’ didn’t sit them where she could see him. Unfortunately, he had no such luck because the only open table for two was directly within her line of sight. He prayed again that Monique would sit on the far side of the table, but Bast ignored his pleas once more. He had to sit facing her, and as soon as he got comfortable in his chair, her gaze slyly trailed over to him. They locked eyes across the room, and Erik’s heart stopped. She was just as beautiful as the last time he saw her all those months ago, but who the fuck was that sitting across from her?

“What are you looking at?” Monique’s abrasive voice cut through his eardrums.

“Nothing. Just thought I saw someone I know, that’s all.”

She cut her eyes at him and turned around to look as he buried his face in the menu.

“Quit being nosy,” he complained.

“I just wanna see who’s got your attention, that’s all.” Monique turned back around with a sour look on her face. “It’s probably that fat girl with her cleavage all out.”

“Mo, just look at the fucking menu and act like you got some sense.”

“Fine.”

Monique pouted until the waiter showed up, but she plastered a fake smile on her face as he took their order. As usual, she ordered the most expensive thing on the menu, and it bothered him to no end that she was hellbent on spending all of his money. Of course, he had plenty, but she felt entitled to it. Kayla never cared about him being rich. Hell, when they got together, she didn’t even know he was a prince, but he loved to spoil her nonetheless. He loved the look on her face when he’d buy her things or take her on the expensive trips that she more than deserved. Kayla appreciated everything he did for her with all her heart, but she’d say the same thing every time.

“Thank you, baby, but you’re all I need.”

Erik smiled fondly at the memory of when he bought her a diamond tennis bracelet from Wakanda for their second anniversary. She was so excited to have diamonds that weren’t marred by exploited labor that she damn near dropped the box when she saw what was inside. It had been a rough year for them, what with him disappearing for a couple of months to seize the Wakandan throne and all. She certainly had plenty of colorful words for him when he came back. He’ll never forget the look on her face when he showed up at her door. He had brought T’Challa for backup just in case, but she looked right past the king as tears welled up in her eyes at seeing her Erik, alive and well.

Erik’s eyes started to get misty as he thought about the way she kissed him with so much emotion...then slapped him across the face for leaving. His gaze wandered back over to Kayla and he noticed the light bounce off of something on her arm. She was wearing the bracelet.

As if she felt his glare, Kayla shifted uncomfortably in her seat, so he averted his eyes back to Monique, who had caught him staring again.

“Why don’t you go say hi?” she asked sarcastically, making him roll his eyes so hard they almost got stuck.

--------

Erik Stevens. Here, of all places. He just had to be here.

Kayla noticed that he didn’t seem to be enjoying his modelesque date’s company any more than she was enjoying Darwin’s, and the pang of jealousy she felt at seeing him with another woman went away. She knew she had no right to feel any kind of way about it, especially since she was the one that broke things off. That didn’t make it any easier, though.

Dylan was too wrapped up in his steak to notice her wandering eye, but it seemed that Erik’s food was as uninteresting as the woman across from him. Kayla watched as he half-heartedly pushed it around his plate, but he certainly kept his favorite whiskey coming. She wanted to chuckle but didn’t want Daniel to think he had anything to do with her levity. They were both drowning their dissatisfactions in their alcohols of choice, and Kayla got a phantom taste of Uncle Nearest 1856 on her lips as she watched him take a sip. When he set the glass down and licked his lips, Kayla felt flush. She missed those lips…

“So, how about dessert?” Damien asked as he leaned back in his chair and rubbed his stomach. “I hear their creme brulee is amazing.”

“Uh, sure, why not?”

“You know,” he began as he leaned in and reached for her hands. She allowed him to take them, but the softness of his hands disgusted her. No callouses, no roughness, not even a firm grip. “I’ve had a great night. I’d love to see you again.”

Kayla chuckled nervously, unsure of how to proceed.

“What are you doing next-”

“Are you fucking kidding me?!”

A shrill voice pierced the air as Erik’s date bolted up from her seat. Desmond, and the whole restaurant, turned around to see what was going on, and Kayla took the opportunity to remove her hands from his.

“Keep your voice down,” Erik sneered through his teeth. “We’re in public.”

“So?! You bring me out here just to dump me? To dump this?!” she gestured at her slim figure, and he rolled his eyes.

“You ain’t even all that,” he waved her off. He was tired of playing nice, and Kayla could see the exasperation written all over his face.

“Excuse me, miss-” the waiter attempted to calm her down, but the crazed woman cut him off.

“Stay out of this!”

“I’m so sorry,” Erik mouthed to the poor man who would absolutely be getting a monstrous tip later.

“Oh, you’re sorry for him, but not for me?”

“Mo, just sit down. We can finish our meal like adults-”

“Fuck you, Erik.” She threw her dirty martini at him, soaking the front of his all-black ensemble.

Kayla could damn near see the steam coming out of his ears as his apparent ex stormed out of the restaurant. Erik locked eyes with her across the room, and when he saw the concern written all over her face, his softened.

“Whew, poor fella,” Dexter commented as he turned back around. “Where was I? Oh-”

“Excuse me, where’s your restroom?” Kayla interrupted him as their waiter walked by.

“Right down there.” She pointed at a set of stairs off to the side, and Kayla thanked her as she slid out of her seat.

“I’ll be back, Darius.”

“It’s Denzel.” He deflated.

“Fuck,” she froze. She had been sure it was Darius. “Still, I’ll be back.”

“I’ll be here,” he responded, obviously upset by her slip-up.

Kayla hurried off down the stairs and leaned against the wall as she waited for either of the single-use restrooms to open up. She took a deep breath and opened her clutch, reaching in to pull out her phone with a shaky hand and typing in his number. It was one of the few she had memorized, just in case.

“You ok?”

Her thumb hovered over the send button, but she couldn’t press it. Her heart nearly thumped out of her chest at the thought of starting a conversation with him, but something within her said that she should. It would be weird not to say anything after all that, right?

“Hey-”

“Shit!” Kayla dropped her phone when his silky baritone graced her ears.

“My fault, ma.” Erik leaned over and picked the phone off the floor, checking it for cracks. He saw she had typed a message out to him and smirked before handing it back to her.

“T-thanks.”

“No problem. And, yeah, I’m ok.”

“Huh?”

Erik pointed at her phone screen.

“Oh! Right. Um, well, that’s good to hear.” Kayla attempted to push her hair behind her ear out of habit, forgetting she had just cut it all off a week ago.

“What about you?”

“What about me?”

“You ok? You don’t seem to into ole dude out there.”

Kayla sighed and rolled her eyes, “Oh, him.”

“Damn, it’s like that?” Erik laughed, and she slapped his arm. That slight contact was enough to spark a flame in them both, and Erik’s face turned serious. “For real, though, not going well?”

“Better than you, it seems,” she quipped as she eyed his wet shirt. That was a bad idea because his first three buttons were undone, and she caught a peek of the raised scars that she missed so much. And that broad chest, and the chain with his father’s ring that he always wore. He’d let her wear it from time to time, and she always felt like it was such an honor. He trusted her enough to let her wear it. He loved her enough to-

Kayla pried her eyes away and made yet another mistake: she looked up at him. Those eyes still looked like sweet, sweet molasses, and even though his locs were braided back, she could tell he was letting them grow out. She momentarily wondered who was retwisting them nowadays, but her train of thought was cut short by the scent of sandalwood and vanilla. Kayla’s mind went blank as she inhaled slowly.

“Heh, yeah. That was...that was pretty embarrassing. Not even gonna lie.” Erik looked away shyly, unable to hold her gaze.

“I guess you’ll need to find a new date spot, huh?”

“Nah, I think I’m good on dating for a while.”

“Same,” Kayla sighed. “Dating sucks.”

“Yeah…”

One of the bathroom doors unlocked, and a middle-aged white man stepped out and passed them on the way up the stairs.

“Well, I should-”

“Yeah, go ahead.”

Kayla walked towards the bathroom, but before she could reach the door, she felt a light tug on her wrist. His touch still gave her goosebumps, and he noticed her raised skin as she turned to face him.

“I just, uh...it was nice seeing you, Kay-kay.” Erik smiled at her, and she nearly melted. She missed when he called her that, too. “You look good.”

“Thanks, E.” She smiled back. “So do you.”

He let her go, and Kayla disappeared into the bathroom. When she closed the door behind her, she took a deep breath to center herself. After all these months, Erik still took her breath away. He clouded her senses and scrambled her mind. Even as she took care of business, her brain replayed their short interaction on a loop.

Kayla locked eyes with her reflection as she dried her hands. How could she go back up there to- what’s his name? Oh, yeah, Da- Denzel. That’s it, Denzel. How could she go back up there to his mediocre company when the man she still loved had made her feel so alive with just one touch. That was the magic of Erik, his magnetism. When they were together, she couldn’t help but be drawn to him, even when she wanted to slap him across his beautiful face. Those were some of the best times, though. If she was angry at him, he knew exactly what to do to calm her down. To put her in her place. To remind her-

Kayla’s daydreaming was cut short by a knock at the door.

“Occupied!”

It came again.

“I’ll be out in a minute!”

She reached for another paper towel to dab off the sweat that had started to pool on her skin at the thought of Erik’s dominance when the door opened.

“What the f- Erik?!”

He pushed inside the bathroom and locked the door behind him.

“You need to start locking doors, Kay.”

“I- what do you want?”

“I want to talk to you,” he spoke as he moved closer to her.

“Here?!”

“Yeah, here,” he chuckled.

Kayla rolled her eyes and tried to push past him.

“Now is not the time or place-”

“When is?” he blocked her exit, and she crossed her arms in defeat, looking up at him through her lashes as she leaned against the sink. “Look, I just need to say something real quick.”

“Fine,” Kayla sighed and gestured for him to continue. She knew there was no use fighting him. She wasn’t leaving that bathroom until he was good and ready.

“Kay,” his voice softened, and she looked away only to have her face pulled back in his direction. “Kay-kay, look at me.”

She made the mistake of doing just that, getting lost in his eyes again.

“I miss you,” Erik murmured.

“Erik-”

“Look, I know, ok? I know. And I’m sorry, Kay. I really am- no, look at me. I’m sorry I wasn’t enough for you...but I miss you, girl.”

Kayla’s eyes welled up with tears that she tried her hardest to blink away, but one had the nerve to fall. Erik wiped it away, and the next one, and the next one. A sob wracked Kayla’s body, and he wrapped his arms around her body.

“Don’t cry, babygirl. I know you worked hard on your makeup.”

Kayla laughed through her tears, but the emotions washed back over her, and she buried her face into his chest. It was already soaked with gin, so what harm would a few tears do?

He held her and rocked her softly from side to side as she cried, and after a couple of minutes, she found the will to look up at him again. His cheeks were wet, so she reached up and swiped her thumbs over them as she held his face in her small hands. He nuzzled into them and kissed her wrists.

“I miss you, too, E,” she croaked.

“I know, babygirl.”

He leaned in to kiss her forehead, and she closed her eyes as his soft lips caressed her skin. They stayed intertwined for who knows how long until Erik felt Kayla begin to pull back. He looked down at her, and the two of them locked eyes. Before they knew it, their lips had met in the middle in a passionate embrace. They got lost in each other for a moment until common sense returned to Kayla, and she pushed him off.

“We can’t-”

“Why not?”

“Because…”

“Because what, Kay?” Erik’s voice rumbled as he closed what little gap was between their bodies. He left soft kisses on her temples before working down to her cheeks, then her jawline, and eventually the column of her neck. She let out a soft whimper when his teeth grazed the crook of her neck but pushed him back again before he could continue any further.

“Erik, I...I still love you, and-”

He attacked her lips with his, hands feverishly gripping her waist as he pushed her further into the sink. She had nowhere to go, and she was ok with that.

“I...love you...too...babygirl,” he whispered between kisses.

Kayla’s mind went blank as he lifted her up on the counter and pressed himself between her legs. She could feel him, all of him, and damn did she miss that monster between his legs.

“Erik,” she moaned as he nipped at her earlobe. He still knew how to play her body like a violin.

“Mmm, say it again.”

“Erik!” she squeaked as she felt his strong hands grip her thighs.

“Just like that,” he groaned, and she flooded her already wet panties.

“Baby-”

He connected his forehead to hers and stared deep into her eyes. “You miss me?”

“Mhm,” Kayla nodded with her lip between her teeth.

“I miss you, too, baby. I think about you all the time. Every day,” he pecked her lips, “every night. I miss everything about you, Kay-kay. Your off-key singing, your horrible cooking-”

“Shut up,” Kayla giggled as his hands traveled up her dress.

“Your body…fuck I miss this body. I miss how you smell, how you taste...how that tight little pussy feels wrapped around my dick.”

Kayla widened her legs for him as his fingers found their way to the seat of her panties, stroking up and down her slit. Erik kissed his way back down her face and over to her ear, his warm breath sending chills down her spine.

“Do you think about me when you touch yourself? Because I do. You’re all I see when I stroke my dick...wishing it was your hand...your lips...this fucking pussy.”

Erik pushed her panties to the side, and his nimble fingers circled her clit. Kayla let out a small moan that was music to his ears, making fingers move faster and her breath grow shallower with each rotation.

“Answer me.”

“Mhm.”

“Come on, babygirl, you can do better than that. You think about me when you play in your pussy? This pussy right here?” he asked as he slapped her vulva, her wetness sticking to his hand.

“Y-yes, baby-”

“Uh-uh, you know who I am. Say it,” Erik commanded as he snuck three fingers inside her wetness, making her moan loudly in his ear. “Shhh, you gotta be quiet, babygirl. You don’t want people out there knowing how much of a slut you are, right?”

Kayla shook her head no.

“That’s what I thought. Now, I asked you a question, Kayla,” he reminded her. His gruff voice made her weak, and the fingers that were steadily speeding up inside her certainly didn’t help. “Answer me. Who am I, babygirl?”

Kayla tried to hold out as much as she could. She didn’t want to say it, too proud to give in, but the way he was currently stretching out her pussy and curling his fingers inside her made her cling to his shoulders. The bastard knew what he was doing, and she didn’t want to let him win. But then, he played dirty and bit down on her neck. She cried out, and when he pulled back to look at her, the ferocity in his eyes drove her up the wall.

“I said, who the fuck am I, Kayla?” Erik growled. His hand sped up, making her weak with every thrust. She couldn’t hold it anymore and came undone around him, her mouth betraying her as his name fell from her lips.

“Daddy!” she gasped as her pussy spasmed, and he chuckled darkly.

“Damn right I am,” he kissed her lips, “now gimme that pussy. Daddy missed his pussy.”

Kayla heard a rip and felt the cool air between her legs as he tore through her panties to get to her treasure trove. She reached down between them and grabbed his clothed erection in her hand, making him groan as he bit down on his luscious bottom lip. She undid his belt buckle and slowly unzipped his pants before reaching in and pulling out his throbbing dick.

The longing in her eyes told him everything he needed to know, so he pushed her legs back and tapped his head on her clit.

“You want daddy’s dick in you?”

“Mhm,” she whimpered.

“Good.”

He pushed in and groaned at the feeling of her pussy walls gripping him as he sheathed himself inside her.

“Fuck, you feel like home.”

Kayla moaned into his neck in response and wound her hips against him, meeting him thrust for thrust as he stroked into her slow and deep. She couldn’t form words. He felt so damn good inside her that Kayla’s brain had short-circuited. Erik’s dick hit spots that she could never find herself no matter how hard she tried. Even in her dreams, he drove her body wild. She had spent the last year trying to find somebody, anybody who could make her feel that way, but nobody could compare to Erik Stevens.

Erik and Kayla panted heavily into each others’ mouths as he made love to her body, and as soon as Kayla started to tense up, his thrusts grew harder.

“I-I-”

“I know, babygirl. Daddy feels it,” he groaned as he nipped at her bottom lip. “Cum on my dick like a good girl.”

His words sent Kayla into overdrive, and her body shook as she spilled over him. Her spasming walls hugged him tight, and she wrapped her legs around his waist, begging him with her eyes.

“You feel amazing,” she moaned.

“Mhm. I know them other niggas wasn’t hitting it like this. I just know it. Look at you, cumming all over daddy’s dick. Look at it!” He grabbed her chin and made her look down at her throbbing pussy as his dick slid in and out of her.

“We look so good, daddy!”

Erik slammed into her, and she bit into his shoulder to keep from screaming. He gave her his all over and over, rocking the countertop in the process.

“We’ll look even better if you let me cum in this pussy. Mix my cum with yours-”

“Yes!”

“Yes?” He chuckled. “You want it that bad, huh? Nasty ass, in here getting fucked while that bum ass nigga’s waiting for you upstairs.”

“Mmm, I want it.”

“Want what, babygirl?” Erik teased as he brought his thumb to her clit, strumming it slowly as he thrust into her.

“You. I want you to cum deep in me.”

“Shit,” Erik groaned. “You want it deep in there?”

“Mhm. Put it where it belongs, daddy.” Kayla licked up the side of his neck, making his knees buckle. “Cum in your pussy.”

Erik lost all sense of control and pounded into her tight pussy, somehow getting even deeper in preparation for his release. Kayla held on tight as she felt him begin to spasm inside her, and she released around him again as his deep moans tickled her ear. Erik thrust extra deep and held his dick in place as he emptied his balls into her warmth, whimpering lightly as she rubbed his back to soothe him and bring him back down.

“I missed you, babygirl.”

“I missed you, too, daddy.”

They stayed like that, wrapped up in each other until their breathing slowed. Erik was the first to move, slowly pulling himself out of Kayla as she whined at the loss of contact. He kissed all over her face before planting a slow, sweet kiss on her lips.

“I can’t let you go again, Kay-kay,” his voice cracked as tears threatened to fall from his eyes again.

Kayla pulled him back in and kissed him so deeply that she nearly lost herself in him again, but he pulled away and looked her in her eyes.

“I’m serious, girl. I’ll do anything. I’ll marry you, give you as many big-headed babies as you want. Just, please, Kay-” she cut him off with another kiss to shut him up.

“We should go back to my place and talk,” she whispered, and Erik’s face lit up. Something about the way she said it, the way she kissed him, the way her body still responded to his...it gave him hope. Kayla smiled at him and pecked his lips once more before hopping off of the sink. He had to catch her because her legs were wobbly, and she stumbled a little in her heels.

“You aight?” he laughed.

“No, nigga,” she slapped his chest, and the two of them got caught in a laughing fit. They had really just fucked in the bathroom at Chez Martine. Kayla was on cloud nine until a thought occurred to her, and her face fell flat. “Oh, shit.”

“What?” Erik’s face turned serious, and his eyes scanned over her body, looking for whatever the problem was.

Kayla started giggling again, and he looked confused.

“What is it?” he asked, barely able to keep a straight face. Her laugh was always so infectious…

“Demetrius.”

“Who?!”

“My date.”

“Girl, don’t worry about him. He probably thinks you dipped out anyway.”

Kayla shrugged and fixed her dress as Erik stuffed his shirt back in his pants. They checked their reflections in the mirror, and Kayla was pleasantly surprised that her makeup was still intact thanks to that setting spray she had splurged on the other day.

“Ready?” Erik asked as he admired her beauty. Kayla nodded, and he unlocked the door, opening it to find Duncan leaning against the wall with a sour look on his face. Kayla’s eyes blew wide as she tried to figure out what to say to her date for the evening.

“Heyyy, um…”

“Denzel,” he seethed.

“Yeah, sorry. So, um, we’re-”

“Sorry, bruh,” Erik clapped him on the shoulder, “but we heading out. Bathroom’s all yours, though.”

Erik pulled Kayla along, and she sent Deion an apologetic glance before following Erik up the stairs. It seemed the whole restaurant knew what had occurred, but neither one of them cared. They were just happy to be around each other again. It had been entirely too long.

Taglist: @ladymac82, @kitesatforestp, @harleycativy, @raysunshine78, @maddeningmayhem, @theblulife, @motheroffae, @love-mesome-me,@toni9, @bribrisback, @impremenior, @blacklytical, @uzumaki-rebellion, @honeyandpeaches, @cecereads209, @wakandama2,

[cherrycheridarling]

happier | t.h.

tom holland x singer!reader

warnings: swearing and sad. fluff if you squint

summary: you wish tom the best with his new relationship in your new song. {listen to happier by olivia rodrigo (if you want)}

wc: 3.6k

'We broke up a month ago,'

"I've been thinking," your heart sunk at his words, "I'm always working." he grabbed both of your hands.

You locked your gaze in his. Sat in the living room of his shared flat. Inches apart yet you could already feel the separation between the two of you growing.

He avoided your eye contact, "I-I can't be in a relationship unless I can give one hundred percent of myself to the other person. A-and I know I haven't been doing that to you, which is c-completely unfair." he wiped away a tear from your cheek that you didn't know had fell, "You've been so, so good to me. I'm sorry I wasn't better, but I can't keep putting you through this." his voice was barely audible.

You finally tore your eyes away from his face. His tear soaked face. Choosing to stare at a spot over his shoulder instead. You took three deep breaths. In and out. Something about his words made you confused, but your pain overpowered it.

"Please say something. Anything." he whispered against your knuckles. Holding your hands to his lips.

You gently removed your hands from his grip, "Thank you for being mature and honest with me." you started with a sniffle, "Thank you for all of our memories and for showing me what love is," you cupped his face, "Thank you for everything, loser." your light laugh lacked any humour, but it still brought a slight smile to his face.

He held your hand that was resting on his jaw, "I love you more than life itself, darling." he kissed your palm and you felt your heart shatter. "Never hesitate to call, dummy."

You nodded with a sad smile. "I love you, too." You stood up and made your way out of the door. A year and a half down the drain within ten minutes.

'Your friends are mine, you know I know you moved on. Found someone new.'

"Do you guys wanna do something on Saturday? I don't have work. Maybe karaoke?" you asked the group without looking up from your phone.

Harrison made a confused noise, "Did you forget? We have Nadia's birthday par—" you heard a loud smack, "—Ow! What? Oh, shit."

You looked up to see Zendaya, Jacob, Harry, Sam and Tuwaine all glaring at Harrison.

"Absolute div." Tuwaine muttered.

You furrowed your eyebrows, "Who's Nadia?" you looked at all of them as they avoided eye contact. "Daya?"

She let out a long sigh before clearing her throat, "Um, Nadia is- Well she's kind of- you know, um—"

"—Tom's new girlfriend." Sam finished for her.

Your mouth formed an 'o' shape as you processed the information. His new girlfriend. It'd been a month and four days since he ended your relationship. And he had a new girlfriend.

It took him a month to move on. A month to be able to give a hundred percent of himself to someone.

You couldn't tell if you were more angry or sad. Maybe a mixture of both. Angry that your friends were hiding information from you, but at the same time you understood their intentions. Sad and upset because the boy who told you he wasn't ready to give a hundred percent of himself was already with someone new.

You slowly nodded, "Oh, okay. Well, I hope you guys have fun." you gave a tight lipped smile before looking back at your phone.

Everyone glanced at each other worriedly before allowing their gazes to fall on you again.

"How do you feel?" Jacob asked cautiously.

You locked your phone and set it on your lap, "I'm fine." you faked a smile, "I think I'm gonna head home, though. It's getting late and I have an early studio session. Bye." you quickly grabbed your purse and left with a small wave.

"Y/N! Wait—" the slamming of the front door cut Tuwaine off.

It was three p.m. and you weren't supposed to be in the studio until noon.

'One more girl who brings out the better in you,'

"Y/N/N. You need to talk about it sooner or later." Zendaya reminded you as she sat at the end of your bed with Harrison beside her.

You removed the covers from your face, revealing your tear stained cheeks, "Does she make him happy?"

There was silence from your two friends before they hesitantly nodded. Both weren't completely sure, but they assumed she did.

"Does she bring out the best version of him? Does she stroke his hair while they cuddle? Does she cook with him? Does she walk Tessa with him?"

Harrison sighed, "Y/N/N, we—"

"—Because that's what I did. I brought out the best side of him. I stroked his hair while we cuddled. I cooked with him. I walked Tessa with him. I did it all. Every single thing." your voice broke towards the end as you let the sobs rack through your body.

Harrison and Zendaya went to either side of you and held you. They just held you. Because even they didn't know what to do.

'And I thought my heart was detached from all the sunlight of our past,'

"Are you sure you're okay with this?" Zendaya asked as you walked towards Tom's front door.

You nodded and smoothed down your sundress, "Yeah. We ended on good terms. It's been two months or so. We're friends. Plus, I miss hanging out with all of us." you assured her.

She sighed before knocking on the door, "Alright."

A few moments later the door swung open revealing Tom. Dressed in black jeans and a white button-up. Sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Curls dangling over his forehead. A sweet smile on his lips.

You felt your stomach lurch. Air leaving your lungs involuntarily. Heart rate quickening. You could smell his cologne and every single memory with him clouded your mind.

"Hey! It's great to see you guys—"

"—Sorry. I-I think I left something in the car. One second." you rushed out the words before turning on your heel.

Zendaya let out a long sigh, "Fuck."

Tom frowned, "Did I do something wrong?"

'But she's so sweet, she's so pretty. Does she mean you forgot about me?'

"Y/N!" an unfamiliar voice called out to you from somewhere in the boys' backyard.

It was Harrison's annual barbecue get together. Nearly three months since your break up with Tom.

You turned towards the source of the noise and found a girl walking towards you. Brunette. Tight black dress with black heels. Body and face of a model.

"I've been dying to meet you! I'm such a huge fan. I basically live off of your music." she giggled as she hugged you.

You smiled, "Aw! Thank you! That means so much to me. You look amazing, by the way."

She laughed, "Thank you! But you're absolutely gorgeous! Sorry, I completely forgot to introduce myself. I'm Nadia, Tom's girlfriend."

Of fucking course.

You raised your eyebrows, but managed to keep a smile on your face, "Oh! I've heard so much about you! Well, Tom's one lucky guy," you chuckled, "I'd love to chat some more, but I need to use the washroom. Excuse me. It was a pleasure meeting you." you gave her a hoaxed smile before quickly walking away.

You were two feet away from the washroom when Zendaya grabbed your arm, "What's wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost or something."

Your breaths were coming out in short puffs, "I just met Nadia?"

Her eyes widened before she dragged you towards Tuwaine's room, "Okay. Let's sit down."

'Oh, I hope you're happy, but not like how you were with me. I'm selfish, I know. I can't let you go,'

"You should move in here." Tom mumbled against your shirt.

You let out a small laugh, "You already have four roommates, love. One more might turn this into a barn."

He lifted his head off of your chest, "I'm serious. Driving from Manchester to Kingston all the time is such a hassle for you. We have recording studios here and it would make me the happiest man in the world if I could wake up to your gorgeousness everyday." he planted kisses on your forehead, nose and lips.

You chuckled at his boyish grin, "It's only a three hour drive and I'm sure the boys don't want me imposing on your time with them."

He quickly shook his head, "I already talked to them about it and they want you here, too."

You raised your eyebrows, "Well, if you're sure it'll make you the happiest man in the world, I'll think about it."

"You already make me the happiest man in the world, but I needed something to convince you." he rested his head on your chest again as you laughed.

'So find someone great, but don't find no one better. I hope you're happy, but don't be happier.'

"Are we ordering pizza?" Harrison yawned from beside you on the couch.

"Sushi?" you grinned hopefully.

Tuwaine shook his head, "We had sushi last night."

"Tom and I are making dinner for you guys!" Nadia reminded you from the kitchen.

Her arms wrapped around Tom's waist as he stirred whatever was in the pan he had on the stove.

You really hated their open floor layout at that moment since there wasn't a wall to block them from your view.

"Oh, yeah. What're you making?" Sam asked.

"Salmon with rice and steamed veggies." Tom answered without looking up from the pan.

Everyone made noises of realization as you turned to Harry, "Aliens or a tiger. Which do you think you could beat in a fight?" he asked.

You laughed before replying, "Hmm, depends. Are the aliens small or—"

"Tommy!" you heard a girly giggle and turned to see Tom with Nadia over his shoulder as they laughed and ran around the kitchen.

You quickly diverted your gaze to the coffee table. Forgetting about Harry's absurd question. All eyes were on you.

"What?" you asked when you finally looked up at your friends.

"Are you okay?" Harrison frowned from beside you before resting his head on your shoulder.

You let out a dry, quiet laugh, "Of course. As long as he's happy."

The looks of pity you received were almost as painful as the scene you witnessed moments ago.

'And do you tell her she's the most beautiful girl you've ever seen? An eternal love bullshit you know you'll never mean,'

"Premiere day!" Zendaya walked into your shared hotel room with a bright smile, Nadia following behind her.

You faked a smile as you applied another coat of mascara, "You girls look gorgeous."

Zendaya was in a red and black sequin gown. Hair down and heels on. Nadia was dressed in a maroon silk dress with a slit on the side. Black heels dawning her feet. Both had makeup and accessories on matching their attire.

You were in an emerald green gown with a slit running down your left leg. Silver heels and silver jewellery to match.

"So do you!" Nadia exclaimed as she sat on Zendaya's bed.

"Are the boys coming soo—" Zendaya got cut off by three loud knocks on the door.

"I'll get it!" Nadia jumped up and opened the door.

Tom was stood before her in a maroon suit. Matching her dress. Black dress shoes. Matching her heels. Glasses on and a bright smile.

You watched as Tom ran his eyes down Nadia's outfit, "Well, aren't you just the most beautiful girl in the world?" he planted a kiss on her lips as you witnessed with envy.

"Aw, Tommy. I love you."

"I love you more, darling." he grinned before looking behind her.

Heart wrenching pain struck you again.

You watched as his mouth fell open by the slightest bit. Eyes growing wider.

He quickly snapped out of his daze, placing a pearly white smile on, "You two look absolutely stunning."

You acknowledged his compliment with a curt nod.

Zendaya let out a laugh, "Yup. About to out do you at your own premiere."

'Remember when I believed you meant it when you said it first to me?'

"Green or white?" you held up both dresses against your body.

Tom looked up from his phone, "Both of them will look amazing on you, love."

You sighed, "I appreciate the compliment, but I am meeting Sebastian Stan tonight. Now is not the time for indecisiveness. One of them will make me look bad and I need to know which one."

The Infinity War premiere was in two hours and your anxiety was growing by the minute.

"C'mere." he motioned you towards him with a 'come hither' gesture as he sat on the edge of the hotel bed. You made your way towards him. Standing in between his legs as he wrapped his arms around your waist, "You are the most beautiful girl in the world. Absolutely gorgeous. You could make the ugliest dress look like something from a fairytale."

Your smile grew as he kissed your stomach, "Thank you, mi amor." you bent down and placed a peck on his forehead, leaning your head against his, you whispered, "Now, green or white?"

He chuckled and pecked your lips, "White."

You smiled before making your way to put on the white dress, "I love you."

"I love you more, darling."

'And now I'm picking her apart. Like cutting her down will make you miss my wretched heart. But she's beautiful, she looks kind. She probably gives you butterflies.'

"I don't like her." you murmured.

Zendaya chuckled, "Nadia? You barely know the girl."

You nodded, "And I don't like her. I don't like her giggles and her nickname for him. I don't like her hair."

You knew you were looking for things to dislike, but there weren't any. She was a fan of your music, she complimented you all the time. She was genuinely a great person.

She sighed, "No, you don't like the fact that she's dating Tom. If she wasn't, you wouldn't be saying any of this."

You rolled your eyes and glared at her, "Can you let me be angry?"

She laid herself down on your mattress, "Nope. If you wanna be angry, be angry at Tom. Nadia hasn't done anything to you. You're better than this."

"God, I hate your optimistic side sometimes." you threw a pillow at her.

She laughed, "One of us needs to be the optimist."

You sighed, "Do you think he misses me?"

"Yes." she replied without hesitation.

You sat up and furrowed your eyebrows, "What makes you say that?"

She let out a long breath, "You need to talk to him about that."

'I hope you're happy. I wish you all the best, really. Say you love her, baby. Just not like you loved me. And think of me fondly when your hands are on her. I hope you're happy, but don't be happier.'

"And you're dead." you dropped the controller on your lap as you defeated Harrison in Super Smash Bros again.

He huffed like a child, "Unfair. I taught you how to play, how'd you get better than me?"

"Actually, I taught her how to play. And I am ten times better than you." Tuwaine corrected him.

Harrison scoffed, "Whatever. Sweaty nerds, the both of you."

Nadia spoke up from Tom's lap, "Can I try?"

You nodded, "Who do you wanna go against?"

She chuckled, "I think I'll verse Harrison. Seeing as how Y/N just kicked your ass, I wanna at least have a chance."

Her comment made you laugh as you handed her the controller and watched them pick their characters. You watched as Tom set his phone down and focused on the screen where his girlfriend chose Pichu.

"Choose Kirby." Tom told her.

She furrowed her eyebrows, "Why? Pichu is so cute."

"Y/N always plays as Kirby and she always wins. With that stupid power absorbing ability." he chuckled as his eyes landed on you.

You felt your heart skip a beat at the small detail he remembered before you played it off with a light laugh, "Not my fault you thought Luigi could beat Kirby everytime we played."

'Ooo-ooo, ooo-ooo, ooo-ooo,'

You pressed on the keys of the piano in the boys' home. Singing your heart out. You still had your spare key and Harrison told you no one was home.

You were waiting for them to return from golfing so you could have your Sunday night dinners. It's been nearly four months since your breakup with Tom. Your album was due to be released on May twenty-first and you were letting the still evident pain fuel your lyrics.

"I hope you're happy, just not like how you were with me. I'm selfish, I know. I can't let you go. So find someone great, but don't find no one better. I hope you're happy, but don't be happier." you faded out the piano and pressed stop on the recording on your phone.

Writing down small notes about the song and things to tweak, your thoughts were quickly interrupted.

"I'm not."

Your head snapped up. Tom was leaning against the doorframe behind you. Tears escaping his eyes.

"T-Tom. I'm sorry. Haz told me the house was empty and I just started playing and- Wait. What did you say?" realization dawned on you.

He stepped closer and sat beside you on the piano bench, "I'm not happier. Hell, I'm not even happy." he gave a pathetic attempt at a laugh, staring straight at the black and white keys.

Your mind was trying to catch up with everything happening, trying to register his words, the state he was in. Grey sweats, black tee. Messy hair and red eyes.

"Why?"

He released a heavy sigh, "There's so many things you could be asking 'why' about. Why did I break up with you? Why am I with Nadia? Why am I not happy? Why the hell am I crying? Which one is it, Y/L/N?"

You blinked a few times, "All of them."

He sniffled and rubbed his face, "I felt like I was holding you back." he started, catching a glimpse of your confused expression, he continued, "You hadn't released any music in over year. There were so many articles saying that I was the reason that the biggest pop star in the world was quitting music. I didn't want to be the reason for that."

"You weren't and you aren't." you assured him.

He shrugged, "I just felt like you would do a lot better without me. And you are. Look at you, your fifth album is coming out next month." he nudged you with his shoulder, "I'm proud of you," he smiled.

"T-thank you."

He nodded, "Anyways, why am I with Nadia? Um, a few days after we broke up, I went to a friend's place to distract myself, as one does. She was there. She was a distraction. I never meant for it to get this far. You know, she actually asked me to be her boyfriend." he chuckled dryly to himself as you listened intently. "I guess, I thought it'd be easier to move on if I had something else to pour my love into?"

You nodded slowly, "Okay, I somewhat get that. So you really do love her?"

He quickly shook his head, "No, no, I don't. I mean, I can't. No one can truly love two people at once. And I think that answers the question of why I'm not happy." he paused and faced you completely, "I'm crying because hearing that song and hearing how evident your pain in it is, that will make anyone cry. I'm crying because I miss you and I miss us. I-I miss what we had and what we were. I miss your kisses and your stupid jokes that only you laugh at. I miss going on walks with you and Tess. I just miss you."

There was a long period of silence after his confession. You were trying to process all the information he was giving. He was cursing himself for being so straightforward. The longer it went without a response from you, the more anxious he got. He grabbed your hands, holding them to his lips.

"Please say something. Anything."

Déjà vu.

You swallowed, "You want honesty?" he nodded, "Okay, I was so mad at you. I-I was infuriated. Y-you told me you weren't ready to give a hundred percent of yourself and that you couldn't be in a relationship until you could give all of yourself to that person. Then a month later, you're with her. Making me feel like you just couldn't give yourself to me." you paused and shook your head, "You could've told me the truth. You should've told me the truth. We could've talked about it. We could've avoided months of awkward run ins and no communication." he nodded, still holding your hands in his, "I'm not gonna lie and say I don't miss you because I do, I miss you more than anything, but we shouldn't be doing this or saying these things while you're with her." you removed your hands from his.

He spent a moment looking down at his fingers. Releasing short breaths. "I don't want to be with her."

"But you are. And I don't want you to break up with her for me. Because that's not how things work, Tom. But you shouldn't stay with her either. Especially if this is how you're feeling. That's just unfair to her." you shook your head and felt your mind clear.

He nodded and met your gaze, "This is the end of us, huh?"

You shook your head, "I don't think there will ever be an end to us." you laughed dryly.

He agreed with a smile, "For forever and a day, remember?"

You nodded, "For forever and a day."

[nevertheless-moving]

INFODUMP AU continued

(Star Wars AU #22)

Possible Continuations from INFODUMP. I headcanon that exchange taking place about a year before episode II and episode IV

A) Anakin Force Shenanigans

Anakin walks up: “master- who’s this guy?

“You can SEE him/me?”

Obi-Wan urgently cry/yelling at Anakin to either wear a condom with Padme or at least take her to a healer if you’re worried about her pregnancy (seriously healer BEFORE evil sith wtf)

(its been a number of years for Ben so he’s pretty much puzzled out the ‘doing this for padme’ bit)

just before obi-wan fades out anakin panics because ben hasn’t told him how he gets together with padme

yanks him into this timeline and now Old Ben has to deal with Obi-Wan and Anakin freaking out over all the info he just vomited at them AND everything else

B) Brush Off

Obi-Wan practices some good old fashioned repression to mostly convince himself it was all a weird dream

yoda always says in motion, the future is anyway

he mostly puts it out of his head until a year later when Anakin VERY obliquely references having dreams of his mother

“...what kind of dreams, exactly?”

end-up rescuing Shmi shortly after her capture, Obi-Wan’s there to make sure Anakin doesn’t go off the deep end

Council is a little disapproving of their side mission because now Anakin is even more attached/devoted Obi-Wan 

Obi-Wan is a LITTLE freaked out but Shmi being in danger isn’t exactly a hard prediction to make considering they left her on Tatooine but...

almost immediately after they get specially requested to protect Senator Amidala.

things proceed like canon and when Dex says the dart is from Kamino, Obi-Wan has a little panic attack attack

the whole trip to Kamino he’s just thinking pleasenoclonearmy  pleasenoclonearmy  pleasenoawFUCK THAT’S A CLONE ARMY

good news here is when he’s bullshitting his way through the meeting/ inspection he very confidently brings up removing the control chips

at first there’s some hemming and hawing ‘oh you mean the inhibitor chips, are you sure you want them removed we’ve already installed them’

“I DEMAND they be removed- I- can i speak to your manger? Do I need to take my business elsewhere??”

Nala Se is very reluctant, “I was ensured by certain high level parties that the chips were intended to be an important safeguard...”

*Obi-Wan sweating, but all-in at this point* “Well, uh, Master Dooku and Chancellor Palpatine themselves told me they were concerned about the chips being abused by the wrong parties, and sent me to supervise, so,”

“Oh, I didn’t realize you were read-in on the project architecture to that extent, well here are our options-”

Obi-Wan still chases to Jango to Genosis because he’s got a mission and ‘this might as well happen’

Still gets captured in that stupid rotating energy field by Dooku 

“What if I told you the senate was now controlled by a dark lord of the sith?”

“...I would say that I would be very interested in any holo-recordings or legal documents you might have to that effect”

“oh?”

“would very much like some sort of proof to bring before a court of law, yeah.”

The rescue attempt actually goes well this time! Anakin is well rested and practically glowing after his week-long all-expense paid vacation at Varykino

They all manage to escape and intercept reinforcement mid-flight

The council is pleased Obi-Wan is safe and not surprised to find Anakin there, but it doesn’t really change their mission as the senate has ordered them to take out the federation army before they can attack...

“The Senate ordered it?”

“Yes, much has happened, while gone you were. Were given to the chancellor, emergency powers. Drafted a military, he has. Generals, the Jedi have been made. Uneasy we are, but serve the senate, we do.”

“Oh kark, the Chancellor ordered it? We DEFINITELY can not invade.” Obi-Wan's starting to have another panic attack, not sure how to get out of the sith trap

Anakin’s a little offended. “Obi-Wan! The Chancellor is a good man; the Jedi must do this, for the good of -”

“PALPATINE’S A SITH LORD”

“what”

C) He tries, ok? (inspired by @ourhitofsucrose )

Very similar to B except for the full year between the ‘vision’ and aotc, Obi-Wan is desperately trying to follow the future’s warnings but failing hysterically

kamino and genosis have both erased from the archives and it doesn’t occur to him to ask dex so he doesn’t even have a direction to go on

tries to find some proof about Palpatine but he is a sneaky bastard

tries to separate palpatine from anakin but he’s like I’M AN ADULT NOW YOU CAN’T TELL ME WHAT TO DO

tentatively brings up Dooku falling ‘in a vision’ to the council because that is something they can check up on- Yoda gets really offended

‘garbage planet on the outer rim’ is not a lot to go on

when he tries to get help searching because he knows that the sith who killed Qui-Gon is still alive and planning to kill his ex-girlfriend even Anakin is like... ‘ok buddy, i think you might be under too much stress, maybe we should visit the healers...”

best he can do for Shmi is leaving her an emergency beacon

A+ success in relationship repair with Anakin tho! through the application of a very awkward hug and a mumbled “you know I love you, right?”

Anakin drags him to the healers immediately, and after a drug test and an overnight stay finally responds by bursting into tears and ugly crying on Obi-Wan’s robes because “YOU’RE A FATHER TO ME BUT I THOUGHT YOU HAATED ME”

Obi-Wan is uncomfortably patting him on the back “Of course I don’t hate you! You’re my padawan! Why would you think that?”

Then when Shmi activates her emergency comm the same night Anakin has his first nightmare about his Mom and they fly to her rescue he’s even more OBI-WAN 5EVER  than canon or scenario B because

“You...checked in on my mom?? Why wouldn’t you tell me?”

“I’m sorry Anakin, I knew the council wouldn’t approve...”

hugs Anakin again since that is the only piece of advice he can follow from his future self and he just thinks ‘well its a long shot but hopefully this is enough to prevent any lava planet incidents’

it is 

Seriously in this version of events Anakin actively RESISTS being knighted because he was already obsessed with Obi-Wan in canon and now with hugs + verbal affection + protecting Mom proactively he is ALL IN FOR OBI NEVER GONNA GIVE YOU UP NEVER GONNA LET YOU DOWN

low-key ruins palpatine’s plans by itself because now when he tries to drive a wedge between them with his bullshit ‘your master doesn’t truly trust you’ Anakin gets huffy and responds with a space powerpoint presentation

i mean other stuff is going to go down once we get to the armies but already the stage is set for him to go running to Obi-Wan the minute he has a nightmare about Padme dying and him responding “J. Force Christ, lets just... go to a healer, fuck’s sake Anakin I hope it doesn’t need to be said but do NOT turn to the darkside over this”

canon would definitely diverge before that point but its also very funny to me to imagine RotS playing out more or less the same but when he gets to Palpatine’s big offer he just goes ‘sorry dad told me no’

[vivid4am]

Life Goes On (Chapter 1)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Bucky meets his neighbor who keeps playing the same song on repeat. 

Takes place before TFATWS

Warnings: Cursing, suicidal ideation(?), hella Beatles references

A/N: This is my first fanfic in like a long time, so sorry if my writing skills are a little week.

Whoever Bucky’s neighbor was, he loathed them. 

Life really hasn’t been kind to him lately. After being under control by HYDRA for so many years, breaking out and finding his best friend only to be turned into dust and coming back five years later with his then best friend abandoning him to go back in time to be with the love of his life. Yeah, not a good hand was dealt to him. 

The only good thing was being pardoned by the United States government and not being sent to jail for the rest of his goddamn miserable life. 

So here he was, sitting on his living room floor, staring at his T.V. and listening to that godforsaken song his neighbor was playing on repeat. 

Ob-la-di, ob-la-da

Life goes on, bra

La-la, how the life goes on

It was taunting almost. After all the shit Bucky’s went through, he wished his life didn’t go on. Wished he could be like Steve, go back in time and find someone who he could live the rest of his life with. Wished that the United States government did lock him up. Wished that they executed him. 

Ob-la-di, ob-la-da

Life goes on, bra

La-la, how the life goes on

Maybe he can complain to Dr. Raynor about this tomorrow. Tell her that the song almost makes him feel murderous again. Maybe she’ll report him and they will finally lock him up. It’s what he deserves anyway, after all the heinous crimes he’s committed. Bucky laid his head back against the wall and sighed. He then stopped and listened.

Solace and silence. The song was finally over. A smile stretched across Bucky’s unshaven face and he choked out a laugh. It didn’t last long though.

That stupid bass line along with that stupid piano started to fill his ears again.

“Are you kidding me?” Bucky said to himself. He knocked on the wall, trying to grab his neighbor’s attention to stop playing that stupid fucking song. 

The song suddenly stopped and a voice came through the wall. 

“Sorry, didn’t realize you weren’t a Beatles fan.” The voice said. 

Bucky didn’t give himself time to think, he just spoke. “I have no fucking clue who they are.” He replied. 

Bucky didn’t get a response. Silence filled his Brooklyn apartment. Then came a knock on his door. Bucky scrunched his face up. Who the hell would come visit him at this time at night? Mr. Nakajima? He pulled the blankets off his legs and stood up, his dog tags hanging off his neck. He peeked through the peephole and saw a girl standing in the hall with a white t-shirt, Cookie Monster pajama pants and her arms crossed over her chest. He sighed and opened the door. 

“Can I-”

“How do you not know who the fucking Beatles are?”

“Excuse me?” Well, maybe it’s because I’m a hundred and some year old man and have never been aware of my surroundings in the 60s before.

“The Beatles! Y’know, John, Paul, George, and Ringo? Abbey Road? Hey Jude? Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club? Here Comes The Sun? The fucking Beatles?” 

Bucky was shocked to be frank. Why was this girl screaming at him about The Beatles? He knew he should’ve listened to what Steve put down in that journal, dammit. 

All he could do was shake his head. “Sorry, no.”

“What were you, born yesterday?” The attitude on this girl was thick. She intimidated him almost, staring into his stone cold blue eyes. 

“No.” Yes.

“Don’t tell me you listen to that shitty Soundcloud rapper bullshit either.” The girl mumbled, pushing her way into Bucky’s apartment. Buck couldn’t help but panic. What if she saw his arm? What would he say to her? Then again, he didn’t really owe her any answers, she was the one who just waltzed into his apartment. 

Luckily Bucky had a grey sweatshirt laying on his kitchen counter. He pulled it over his head and stuffed his hands into his pockets. The girl stopped in front of his living room. “Nice pad you got here.” She said, admiring his single cushioned arm chair, TV stand and makeshift floor bed. 

“Uh- new furniture coming in, my old stuff fell apart.” He lied, looking down feeling almost embarrassed. “Eh, it’s okay. You’re better than the last tenets that were here.” She said, searching around his apartment. 

“I’m sorry, but- what are you looking for? Matter of fact, why are you in here?” He asked, following her around. Hopefully she didn’t find his knife stash. He wasn’t supposed to have any weapons, but he needed something in case someone tried to break in. He still gets paranoid sometimes. 

“Looking for the source in your shitty taste in music.” The girl deadpanned. 

“I-uh, I don’t listen to music.” 

The girl skidded to a halt. She turned around, shock riddled on her face. “Really? I mean, with that haircut and dog tags, you strike me as a guy who listens to Led Zeppelin religiously.” She then put her hand up. “Don’t tell me you don’t know who Led Zeppelin are either.” 

Bucky grimaced at the girl and she sighed. 

“Tomorrow,” She started, “meet me next door at 8, I get off work at 7:30.” She said before walking towards the door. Bucky gave her a confused look. “For what?” He asked, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. The girl gave him a cheeky smile. “So I can show you music.” She replied, opening the door.

“I’m Y/N, by the way.” She said before she shut the door. 

“Bucky.” He whispered, but she was already gone.

| Next Part

[comfortwriting]

Keep Me Warm - F.W

Masterlist, Requesting Rules, Writing Prompt Masterlist, Taglist

Fred Weasley X Fem Reader

Requested/About: Fred and Y/N move into their new flat, Fred soon realises that his neighbours are crushing on his girlfriend, Y/N. One evening, he's tired of having to explain that you're his, so he makes it clear in another way.

Warnings: 18+ smut, mention of eating, smoking, breeding kink, unprotected sex, rough sex, jealous Fred, swearing.

Prompt 106: "Be careful" he warned you, fucking you faster "you know how bad I want to knock you up."

Prompt 117: "That's it, baby! Moan my name, tell me how good it feels as I fuck you!"

"That's the last box!" you beamed up at Fred, standing at the bottom of the stairs, excited to finally get settled into your flat.

Fred peered over the stairs and smiled at you, looking proud and accomplished; finally able to start a new chapter as a husband and wife.

"Shall we get everything unboxed?" he asked, his smile widening - turning into a grin.

"As long as we start with the bed first." You smirked.

The front door behind you opened, two young men walked through, they looked like brothers, they closed the door behind them and you could smell the tobacco on their clothes.

"Sorry!" you went bright red "I hope I'm not being too loud."

Fred walked down the stairs slowly, staring at the two brothers who were eyeing you up and down.

"Not at all" the man held out his hand "I'm Stewart."

"I'm Y/N" you smiled back, shaking hands with him "This is my husband, Fred."

Stewart raised his eyebrows, but still shook hands with his new neighbour.

"Husband? You look a little too young to be married."

Fred bit his tongue, he didn't judge them - yet they were already judging you. What did it matter to them if you were married or your age? It's none of their business.

"We've been together since high school" Fred interrupted "Been together ten years now."

Stewart nodded, then introduced his brother Steven who couldn't take his eyes off you, staring at your breasts and behind.

"It's lovely to meet you" he smiled, he then turned to face Fred "it's nice to meet you, Fred."

Fred quickly ushered you upstairs, refusing the offered help from the brothers who were eager to help you unpack. He carried the last box up the stairs, slammed the door with his foot and set the box on the floor, he looked slightly ticked off.

"You okay Freddie?" you asked softly, pulling out a vase from the box, placing it on the kitchen counter.

Fred grumbled and pulled out his wand, waving it, your furniture sliding across the room, the bed pulling together, the plates and dishes flying into the cabinets and your books speeding across the room, landing, and sitting comfortably on the bookshelf.

"Hey!" you frowned "you promised me no magic."

Fred walked towards you and planted a soft kiss on your head "sorry, love." he said softly "I'm just a bit pissed off, that's all."

You placed your hand against his face, stroking his cheek with his thumb "ignore them" you sighed "it's not like they're next door."

If only you knew, unfortunately, the brothers did live next door - and they couldn't help but spend the entire afternoon making a dessert pie for you - of course, they would express it being for both you and Fred, but that was bullshit, they didn't care about your husband.

"Ten years with the same guy, how miserable," Stewart said, pulling the pie out of the oven.

"Fred!" they heard you giggle through the walls "Give me that back!"

Steven looked at his brother and shrugged "I don't know, she sounds pretty happy to me."

"Well, she could do much better." Stewart grabbed a postcard with sunflowers standing up tall in the sun, he scribbled a note on the back.

"That I agree with." Steven laughed, he pulled out a cigarette "going out for a smoke, you coming?"

Stewart shook his head "I'm good, going to take this round."

Steven nodded, your laughter and Fred's broke through the walls, "I'll see you afterwards then."

Fred chased you around the room with the feather duster, trying to tickle you, you were starting to get out of breath and stopped in your tracks forming a 'T' with your two hands.

"Time out!" you wheezed "Time out!"

Fred lifted you into his arms, pecking kisses all over your neck "Time out? We were just getting started."

Before Fred could continue, a knock rapped at the door, Fred put you down and walked over to the door, looking through the peephole.

"Fuck sake" he mouthed.

You walked over and looked through the hole, Stewart stood there with the pie in the glass tray.

"Oh Freddie" you whispered "he's just being nice."

You pushed in front of Fred and opened the door, Stewart looked up and smiled at you, Fred stood behind you and didn't bother to hide his sour expression or glares.

"Hope you don't mind me bringing this for you both tonight" he smiled "Apple pie, hope you like it."

"I prefer my mums" Fred interrupted.

You rolled your eyes and took the pie from Stewart, inviting him inside and putting the kettle on, remembering to keep your wand inside your pocket. Cutting the pie into slices, you plated them up and set the three plates down on the table, sitting with your annoyed husband and eager neighbour.

"So how did you know which number?" you asked, taking a bit out of the delicious pie.

"We're next door actually!" Stewart beamed, this flat has been empty for months, seeing you move in made us realise someone finally decided to rent the place."

Fred gritted his teeth, he hated Stewart, he hated the pie, the fact that he was next door - he couldn't bring himself to engage in conversation, he couldn't anyway - Stewart was only interested in you.

The rest week didn't turn out how you expected since moving into your own place, Fred spent more time at work, and would be in the foulest mood when he came home, he couldn't stand being next door to a man who became infatuated with you, who was pushing his luck and went too far one evening which kickstarted the worst argument between you and your husband.

"Why does it matter?!" you yelled back, draining the bath of its water.

"Can't you understand?" Fred hissed "He's in love with you!"

"He's just being nice!" you picked up your towel, drying yourself before wrapping it around your body "You're never here anymore! You're always at work and when you come home you treat me like shit!"

"He's trying to fuck you!" Fred shut the bathroom door so you couldn't leave "I'm away from home because I can't stand him, I can't stand you getting close to him."

"Fred-"

"No, Y/N, I've tried and he just doesn't get it. He wants us to argue, he wants you all to himself!"

You rested against the tile wall, staring up at your husband as his soft hand pushed the stray hairs out of your face.

You realised that Fred was right - there was a reason Stewart only came to visit when Fred was working, why he showered you with kind desserts and sweet notes, and how his obsession with you had caused Fred to become so distant within the past few weeks.

You placed your index finger against your lips, shushing your husband "he'll be able to hear us" you whispered.

Fred nuzzled his nose into yours, kissing your neck softly, looking at you with a smirk on his face.

"And I know he's listening," Fred whispered back.

You dropped the towel to the floor, exposing your naked body, Fred lifted you up into his arms, you wrapped your legs around him and giggled as he carried you into the bedroom, he sucked on your nipple softly, circling his tongue around it. You moaned out softly, he slowly lowered you onto the bed.

Fred pulled his mouth from your nipple, slowly planting wet kisses down your warm body, reaching your navel, he spread your legs and planted a soft kiss on your clit, causing you to moan out a little louder than you meant - Fred looked up at you and smirked.

"Don't be quiet now" he growled "I want them to hear you."

Fred slowly dragged his tongue over your clit teasingly, you looked down at his hard dick poking through his trousers.

"I want you, Freddie." you breathed staring at his hard-on "Please."

Fred licked his lips, pulling off his shirt, then unbuttoning his trousers and pulling down his zipper. You tried to sit up but Fred pushed you back down, shaking his head, you stared at his cock poking through his boxers, he finally pulled them down and his erection slapped against his lower stomach.

Pulling in to kiss you passionately, Fred stroked his cock and pulled out the lube from the bedside table, pulling away to lather it on his cock, which he stroked against your pussy teasingly.

Fred sat on the end of the bed and summoned you over to him with his index and middle finger, you crawled over to him and sat down on him slowly, facing away from him, reverse cowgirl, but your feet were on the floor - you stared at your husband through the mirror.

His hands gripped onto your waist, his hard cock now pushing inside of you, your eyes closing shut and your jaw hanging open for a moment as you adjusted to his length and the feeling of him stretching you out.

Fred's left hand let go of your waist and gripped your hair, pulling you down as you leant forward. Grinding on your husband, his soft moans filled the bedroom - but he stopped you - he didn't want Stewart to hear how good you made him feel, he wanted to fuck you so hard that your moans had Fred's name all over it.

Your husband started to buck his hips faster, pounding into you, your moans and the slapping noises filling the bedroom and spilling into next door.

The feeling of him reaching deeper inside of you, his right hand on your waist and his left in your hair sent shivers down your spine, biting your lip you remembered what he said, and didn't stop yourself from moaning out loud.

"Fuck!" you panted heavily, watching Fred through the mirror "You feel so good, Freddie!"

Fred grunted, pushing you onto the floor, the palms of your hands resting against the wooden floor, now in doggy style, your husband pushed his cock deeper inside you, this position bringing you more pleasure.

"Fred!" you wailed "Fred!"

"That's it, baby! Moan my name, tell me how good it feels as I fuck you!" Fred panted, your walls tightening around him, his cock throbbing at the thought of Stewart knowing that you belonged to no one else but him.

"It feels so fucking good!" you wailed "You're so deep inside me!"

Your husband picked up speed, your palms and knees pressing deeper into the wooden floor, your juices coated Fred's cock, as did the lube, making it easier for him to slide in and out of you.

Fred continued to pant, his forehead and body covered in beads of sweat, the sight of your body and the sound of your moans, the feeling of your walls strangling his length pushed him closer to the edge; both of you were having the time of your life, and Stewart knew it.

Stewart sat in the kitchen, his face red, an expression flashed like he had been slapped in the face, he hated Fred, he hated that he was fucking you - owning your pussy - making you feel better than anyone else ever could.

Sensing that Fred was close, his cock throbbing inside of you, you pushed your arse out and spread your legs further so Fred could watch his juice throated cock fill you up. You could feel your climax reaching closer, the pressure in your tummy building up.

"Y/N" Fred groaned "You're so fucking tight-"

"I-I'm cumming!" You wailed, the pressure in your stomach bursting.

"Cum for me baby!" Fred yelled, so next door could hear.

Your cum flowed down Fred's length, he couldn't keep up much longer, and the sight of your pussy in this state was sending him over the edge.

"Be careful" he warned you, fucking you faster "you know how bad I want to knock you up."

You chewed on your lip, the pleasure increasing, your moans getting louder.

"Cum inside me" you begged "Please!"

Your begging pushed Fred to the edge, before he could pull out he released himself deep inside of you, filling you up.

“Don’t move” you breathed “keep me warm.”

Whilst you and your husband climbed down from your climax, Stewart had his head in his hands, feeling frustrated that his plan didn't work out. Luckily for you, this was enough to send him packing.

Taglist: @amourtentiaa @reeophidian @alwaysnforeverfangirl @horrorxweasley @lucymfer @onlyfreds @sebby-staan @xmalfoyweasleyx @freddiemylovelg @pandaxnienke 

[laketaj24]

Serotonin

Author’s Note: I finally finished something in my drafts after two months. I feel semi accomplished today! Taglist is open, as are requests!!!! Send them… I want them.

Pairing: Colson Baker x Reader

Warning: Smut, public sex, drinking, language

Inspo Song: Why are you here?

 The eyes searing into you from across the club belonged to Meg Styer; you knew of her well, based on Colson’s Instagram, she was the new arm piece. The well-known model had a reputation of making herself known to the exes, even if that meant starting confrontations when they were not needed. She crossed her long russet brown legs; they shimmered in gold, as did her entire outfit. You felt immediately outdone, thinking of the minimal effort you’d put into the outfit or your makeup today. Tonight's outing was not supposed to be about Colson or this new woman; it was about falling out of this fucking slump you'd found yourself in for the past month.

"It’s lively here.” Eric grinned. Straight edge, Eric.

You cringed inside; if your mother could have created someone on an app, Eric would have been him. Without a doubt, he was handsome, with dark hair, delicate features, and not a tattoo or piercing in sight. The club had been his idea, but parts of you believed he’d gotten the idea from your sister, who knew that there was no way in hell you’d sit at a restaurant and eat. You liked the action; your job called for you to sit in silence and awkward conversations; you didn't want your life to be a damper as well.

“It is,” you looked around, taking everything in, including the abrasive eyes that still remained on you, but it didn’t matter once he entered the room. The black shirt revealed his entire tattoo-riddled chest, even the one of your name he’d gotten a few years back. He looked like he might be up to trying you tonight, so you had to disappear and do so quickly. “We should go to the booth you got.”

“Yeah, sounds like a good idea.”

It wasn’t a good idea; you sat uncomfortably across from the pair watching their every move while trying to suppress the need to end the date abruptly and slap the fuck out of him. Irritating you always was the one thing he did exceedingly well. Meg sat in his lap, draping her arms over his body, throwing her ass on him like she had no shame!  Did he know it was you across the room from him? Did he care? You watched as the waiter brought your third glass of tequila to the table and leaned into Eric, noticing the earthy cologne mixed with the whiskey. He smelled nice, or perhaps you were elusive to the bullshit because being near to him dulled the ache of the scene across from you.

The room to be secluded offered no privacy, so even when you felt alone, you were smothered in the thoughts of what if he saw you kiss or touch this guy- what the fuck was his name again? You uncrossed your legs, clumsily kicking the round glass table in front of you and spilling his drink but thank god not yours.

“I need some air; I’m gonna go get some.” You paused and took your glass. “I’ll be back.” The words scrambled out, and you did too, pushing up from the leather couch and not looking back to see Eric’s reaction to the awkward movements.

Too many people surrounded you, and at the moment, all you truly wanted was to hear nothing and feel nothing, even if it meant you had to get shit-faced. The stairwell didn’t have many people in it; only two women consumed in one another and Colson.

Your heart sunk once you realized it was him, from fear, dread – fucking embarrassment, maybe? He shook his head; you took notice of the three earrings in one ear while the other garnished a seat of crosses that dangled. Colson’s hair was slightly disheveled atop his head; the dark roots peeked out of the platinum blonde tapered cut. He looked great as usual. “I thought you were in for the night?” Colson’s voice carried over the music because he refused not to be heard, especially by you. He looked down at you, nursing the glass of chilled tequila. You’d acquired a taste for it over the years of being with him, Colson drinking tequila like water had rubbed off on you. “This doesn’t look like your place.”

“Did you want something?”

“Why are you here with that broke down,” He paused dramatically, raising his hand as he thought of more insults. “Tom and Jerry looking motherfucker?”

“That’s the best you can do?”

Colson drug his teeth over his lip, “Where you meet him?”

“Where’s that instamodel chick? You know the one with the plastic ass and tits? You leave her in the car just so you can go check on your other hoes, or is she in here with them?”

“Man, stop.”

“I saw her looking at me, don’t tell them about me. I’m not your concern, and I am damn sure not theirs.”

“How’d you catch her looking at you if you weren’t looking at me?” Colson’s cocky smirk sent a rush of anger coursing through your body; even when he lost, he found a sure way to find a confident victory in it.

“Bye, Colson.” Your eyes met his, remembering how blue they were. Even when he was dead drunk, they found a way to still hold onto the Colson you knew was in there somewhere. The sweet one that danced in the rain and stayed in bed with you every free night he could give -- you shook it off. Breaking eye contact with him to look anywhere but the blue crystal stare. You cut down to the ground, admiring your pumps before he turned away from you and left.

The drink was no longer cold, and the tequila didn’t even burn as you chugged down the remnants of the clear liquid. You pinched the bridge of your nose, taking a deep breath, and then leaned against the stairwell.

“Long night?” Eric cleared his throat.

“Already, I’m so sorry. Could we leave here?”

Eric shook his head yes and placed his hand on your shoulder, “Is everything okay?”

“Perfectly, fine. It’s fine.” You swallowed. The hazed state of your mind needed to be cleared, especially before you left with him. “Can I meet you upfront? I’m going to freshen.”

“It’s fine; take your time.”

 You wouldn’t take your time; the quicker you were out of this place, the better. Whenever you were in his element, your mind refused to do the right thing. You moved through the crowded dance floor, carefully avoiding familiar faces. And finally, you were at the restrooms splashing the cool water on your face. You looked yourself over, grateful you hadn’t worn makeup—the trickles of water run down your rich ochre brown skin.  Too many thoughts raced through your mind out there but not in here. It was silence, and your mind was in a stupor. For a second, everything stilled, your heart and breathing were relaxed, and everything was back to normal, that moment as everything else was short-lived.

Colson’s reflection appeared in the mirror before you. “I cannot believe you lied to me?” The door clicked behind him.

“I didn’t lie to you.” The way he casually entered the women’s bathroom to start an argument pissed you off. “And get the fuck outta here.”

“We talked earlier today, and you said you were in for the night.”

“You said you were going out by yourself, and you got a whole entourage. So, same shit, we both just single now.”

“Come here.”

“No, you don’t get to tell me to come here. You don’t get to follow me in the bathroom and talk to me about fucking lying when you-.”

Words ended when his lips met yours, he towered over you, but he didn’t mind the effort it took to get to your lips. He walked you against the wall- steadying your steps to his until he picked you up, and as if your body knew the routine, you wrapped your legs around him. Your lips eagerly kissed him back, tugging on his bottom lip before returning to take more kisses. How were you this hungry for him? You wanted nothing more than him to fuck you, rip this dress and ruin you in this unlocked bathroom. “Y/N.”

“Fuck me.” You pleaded.

He only needed the confirmation to move towards his belt buckle unsheathe his dick. There were two ways you fucked, frantic and as if you would never see one another again and then slow – ironically, they both had the same outcome. Your heartbeat matched his, strumming against your chest, and his matched yours. You loved it. There was no foreplay needed; you wanted to feel every inch of the pain he had to offer. He pushed the black dress up to your thighs, bunching the fabric enough that it revealed your pussy for him. He swiped his tongue over the pads over his fingers and swiped your lips. You were wet for him. You had been the whole night, no matter how much you wanted to deny it. He pushed the long finger into you, curling it to press the soft pad that made you squirm and throw your head back in pleasure.

He moved from the wall to the counters, not giving a fuck if someone walked in or not; he spread your legs wider for him and gripped your curls. Exposed to the world, but all you could see was him. You reveled as he slammed into your hilt deep, muted your sequel with his lips, and paused. “You missed me, didn’t you?” He whispered. “Y/N?”

“Shut up,” Your pussy answered for you, squeezing to pull him deeper as he fucked into you. He wasn’t even deep enough for you; your fingers tug on the black shirt as you thrust to meet him each time. Your skin clapped against his every time, his cock expertly hitting that spot inside of you that made you want to cum right then and there. You held it, panting as it began to build up all over your body. He knew the signals, the way your hands rapt against him, legs quivered, and your pussy throbbed.

“Up.” He said, listening to the door open behind him.

Decency had left when he started fucking you, there was no way in hell you’d stop now, and Colson possessed no fucks when it came to sex. They could watch whoever the fuck it was. He positioned you in front of the mirror, bent over for him. Colson’s heavy hand came down on your ass, and then he pushed into you arching your back before wrapping a hand around your hair and fucking into you wildly.

Your ass bounced back on him, and his moans made you wetter. Your fists clenched as you tried to steady yourself – there was no controlling the orgasm that flowed through you. Your breath quickened, your toes curled, and your eyes snapped closed as his name rolled from your tongue.

“Open them eyes.” He gave an arrogant laugh before leaning over you, pushing himself deeper and flicking his tongue over the lobe of your ear.,

Your eyes opened, and you saw yourself flushed with sweat, mouth open, and him fucking the shit out of you. The scene erotic, beautiful, and shit you wanted it again and again. “Oh shit.” You mumbled.

“You think that fucking clown ass suit gone give you this?” He laughed as he slapped your ass again. “I thought not.” He guided you back on him, taking your hips in his hands, making sure you took every inch. He was greedy himself, watching your breast bounce in the reflection of the mirror, all while hearing you echo throughout the entire bathroom. It was music to his ears. Colson slowed his stroke momentarily, peppering, kissing down your shoulder blade before increased his pace once again, and your body jolted. You ground against him, urging him to cum and the pressure built. He panted against your back for a moment and then kissed your exposed skin. “Don’t go home with him.” He whispered, retrieving your panties from his pocket. Colson lowered himself to his knees and turned you around.

“You can’t tell me that.” You whispered.

“I’m asking.”

“Are you taking her home?”

“I can drop her ass off at her place right now.” He smiled, pointing. “Shit, you can ride shotgun.”

Good memories flooded of his snarky ass sense of humor and late nights. “You’re silly.”

Colson adjusted your dress and then stood in front of you, making sure your hair and lipstick was not smudged everywhere. “Drop Chandler off and come home.”

“Fucking hell mate,” Dom’s voice did not seem shocked. “This other chick is trying to kill me out here. Y/N?”

“Dude, will you get the fuck out of here… like now.”

“Fine. I’m leaving.”

“This was-,” You step away. “Uhm, I don’t know. I’ll call you okay?”

“Tonight?”

“Tomorrow.” You clarified. “Or the next day, just give me a damn minute to breathe?”

“Bet.” He sighed. “Should I go first… so it won’t seem suspect?”

“You’re a 6’4” guy leaving the women’s restroom, you’re busted.” You chuckled.

 A/N: I through Dom (Yungblud) in there because I kinda love him just as much lol might right him too! Hope you enjoyed! Thank you! Please let me know what you think!

Taglist: @taytayize123 @supernaturalvikingwhore @jae-writes-fanfiction @bigsisbria @placeoffreedom @kyla-queen @missdforever @gottatoxicattitude @bang-kim-bap @msreshel @blowmymbackout @titty-teetee​

[duskamethyst]

make it right.

a/n: i was on a writing high. i initially hated this so much but ended up with 12 pages long.

word count: 5.1k

genre: mature, smut, nsfw, angst to fluff

warnings: mentions of abortion, pregnancy

pairing: hawks x f!reader

𝅘𝅥𝅮  music rec: the reason by hoobastank  𝅘𝅥𝅮

summary: you told keigo that you’re carrying his child but he didn’t take it well. five years later he shows up in front of your door after being invited by his son and says he wants to fix everything.

you lean down towards the counter as you concentrate on creating pretty swirls of cream on the cake you baked with a piping bag. the dining table is full of food, a feast almost too huge for only two people, but you have a good excuse. it is a special day. your son’s fifth birthday to be exact. 

kids these days can be ruthless and your son doesn’t get along very well with the other kids from his kindergarten. they like picking on others that seem too fragile, too quiet – criteria that fits him well and it doesn’t help with the fact that they know he’s growing up without a father. your child never opened up to you about the constant mocking he faced until one day you overheard him sobbing through his pillow in his own room. it was dark, though the door was still open by an inch to allow a small amount of light to penetrate into the room whenever he slept. he said he wanted to sleep earlier because he was tired but the muffling sounds he tried to conceal betrayed his efforts when you passed by later that night.

it made you angry and disappointed in yourself. you really tried your best to juggle between being a mom and a dad at the same time, keeping an eye on your child and working your ass off to make a living for the two of you. you’d always put up a tough front, never broke down in front of him when you were dead tired from being overworked and the thought of him trying to not make you worry, shattered your heart into pieces. you know that all he deserves is a good life and you constantly blame yourself for not being good enough, mostly angry at your past self for not even knowing how to make good decisions and think things through. 

if only you could turn back time, you would tell yourself to never get involved with a pro hero – to never get involved with someone who feels so responsible for other strangers’ lives but not their own child’s. 

were you being selfish? for not understanding that his work always comes first? he can’t possibly have a family when he has villains out there that need to be put in their right place for their crimes. were you expecting too much from him?

“can’t you… get rid of it?” he muttered. his cold words felt like a sharp blade that just stabbed you in the heart. never once you thought that he would say that. how easy was it for him to ask you to throw out another life like it meant nothing? 

“keigo, you can’t be serious.” you shook your head, your legs were already wobbling and you felt sick to your stomach. this news should be happy for the both of you but unfortunately, you two weren’t on the same page. 

was it your fault? keigo never spoke about having a child together but he always said he’d love to build a family with you someday – he loved you, he would always protect you and be there for you. sure, it was a slip up this time. you always made sure to take proper measures to avoid pregnancy from happening but you were also more than glad to bear this child and you were convinced that keigo would be happy about it as much as you were. he loved you so much, after all. 

“i don’t think…” he stammered, trying to find the right words. “give me some time.”

your lips pursed into a thin line, hands clenching hard and knuckles turning white. think? the uncertainty in his voice was already giving you the obvious answer. he couldn’t even look you in the eyes. he never wanted this.

“save the trouble, keigo.” you spat. “how about i’ll just leave so you don’t even have to think at all?”

keigo finally lifted up his head to look at you with wavering eyes, but he still couldn’t find the words to say, to comfort you. “what are you saying?”

“i’m still going to have this child. even if it means i have to do it alone.” with a sharp breath, you turned around towards the door.

you heard a frustrating sigh coming from your back, “you know i can’t. you know damn well that i have my job as a hero and i can’t look after… after a child!”

“but it’s your child keigo!” you turned around to scream and look at him again, tears already welling in your eyes, threatening to pour out.

“and what difference does that make?!” he yelled back. “in fact, that’s even worse!”

the room was quiet as the both of you just stood there. keigo slowly realizing what just came out of his mouth in the heat of the moment while you just stared at him in disbelief. both were standing stunned and speechless from what he clearly said. that was it, you thought. 

“fuck you.” you cursed under your breath and immediately left his place, not even sparing a look back. 

if he was sorry, he would chase after you. if he didn’t mean it, he would look everywhere for you.

but none of that happened.

you ended up going back to your hometown after that. it was shameful, to finally see your parents again but just to cry on their feet as soon as you saw their faces and telling them that you were carrying an illegitimate child. it was devastating for them initially but thankfully they easily accepted it, welcoming you to stay over at their place with open arms so they could help you throughout your pregnancy until the baby was born and grown. above all, you were still their daughter. living far away, your parents had never met keigo and they were shocked to know that you were having the no.2 pro hero’s baby but also disappointed at how he reacted when you told him the news.

however, what was done is done and you can only manage to move forward by raising the child with your utmost capability. you promised yourself that you’ll protect and raise this child with as much love and care a mother can offer. whatever it takes, even if you’ll have to do it by yourself. 

you ended up living with your parents until your son turned four and decided to live independently, not wanting to burden them any longer. they didn’t want to let you go, the presence of the child brought so much joy in their daily lives. he was a bundle of sunshine and they loved him so much. 

and kyō is just beautiful. 

keigo’s genes manage to overpower your son compared to yours. fluffy but shorter blonde hair, dark and sharp on the inner corner of the eyes and not to forget the red wings on his back. it isn’t as big as keigo’s yet but it still stands out. although he takes on your personality more, every part of him reminds you of keigo and sometimes it feels like a jab to your chest. it hurts to be reminded of the man that hurt you and told you to get rid of the child you were bearing so ruthlessly.

throughout the years, you tried to make peace with the past. at first, it was hard to look at the news and see his face. he was almost everywhere, a lot of stores also sold his merchandise and his face even covered the magazines-- you realized you couldn’t escape him, your past. although he’s in the limelight, the media was still unaware about his private life and you were glad alas the similar features of kyō to the pro hero made some passersby and mothers at the park question you. fortunately, you already came up with a bullshit excuse like “he is such a big fan of hawks and he cosplays him every day… and oh, the wings are fake too.”

of course, strangers weren’t the only ones who inquired about it. even the little child himself could smartly notice his resemblance with the pro hero.

as soon as he first saw hawks on tv, he went on and on about how they looked so much alike. he was beyond fascinated, he could barely understand what the news was talking about at the time but being on the screen was more than enough to make him understand that hawks was an amazing guy. his eyes would twinkle in wonder when the news caught footage of him flying in the air with his red wings spreading graciously. if anything at all, kyō just couldn’t wait to flap his own smaller wings soon. 

then one thing led to another. a question that any curious child would ask their parents about. 

oftentimes kyō would ask you about his dad. why didn’t he have one like the other children he played with at the park and oftentimes you would try to avoid the topic and shrugged it off with a lame joke saying how you were also his dad and how you were powerful to have two bodies in one unlike other people. 

he ended up growing tired of it one day, crying to you and asked if the reason why he didn’t have one was because he didn’t love him – something he heard one of the kids said. it broke you and you were lost for words. you called your parents for support and after much discussion, your mother thought he deserved to at least know the truth and you did just that. 

luckily, he took it surprisingly well. even his little brain can comprehend the job of a top hero, he understood that it was a lot of work and keigo was often busy and far away. it was less to his liking when you made him promise you to not tell anyone about it and he should keep it as a secret because bad guys would chase after him if another single soul would know and his dad did it to protect him. it was a bad lie, but still, you had to do it.

later, kyō realized that his birthday was coming soon. he knew what he had always wanted. he didn’t know if he could have it but maybe… maybe if he tried and wished hard enough, it would come true. 

he sneakily took your phone to look up “hawks'' on your phone, though at first he was only shown results and pictures of the literal bird before smartly adding “pro hero” at the back. with limited comprehension, he eventually managed to find the agency’s website before scrolling further to find the address to the agency and scribbled it down on a piece of paper. 

-

“daddy?!” the bell has been ringing for a few times but you were too concentrated on decorating the birthday cake to even hear it but your son’s small wings flutter in excitement as he runs across the hallway to open the door.

your heart stops for a second. was that the reason why your son was pacing around the living room? you’re not expecting any guests for tonight’s dinner at all, especially the father of your child. 

“hey! i got your letter!” the familiar excited tone of his voice bursts from the door as he speaks. he kneels down eye-level as his son and gives him a big hug. “happy birthday.”

“what letter?” you break into the conversation, arms folded in front of your chest as you lean against the wall with an unamused expression written across your face. 

“i wrote daddy a letter!” your son says proudly, but you can already imagine the horrible squiggly lines on the handwritten letter. 

“and you gave me a picture too. you look exactly like me, am so happy!” keigo chuckles, ruffling the hair of his boy, eliciting little giggles from the other. it’s a beautiful sight and it makes your heart ache a little at the image of what it could’ve been. if only he was fully ready to accept the fact that he was gonna bear a child. if only he knew how to balance between his career and personal life. you could’ve had the most beautiful family you’ve ever dreamed of. 

“honey, can you go to your room for a bit? your daddy and i have to talk.” you say softly, hoping that he won’t take it any other way.

“am i.. in trouble?” kyō turns to you with a frown and puppy eyes – which he knows well that it would always work on you and it’s almost adorable how it’s exactly what keigo would do whenever he makes you annoyed with his antics. it’s just one of his ways to apologize to you. 

you sigh and shake your head, “no. we’re gonna talk about…” you glance elsewhere as you think of an excuse. “your surprise present!” 

“it’s not a surprise anymore if you say it like that, mommy!” the child laughs and scurries to his room as told and the both of you watch him with a smile tugged on your lips. 

you turn back to keigo with a dour expression as soon as your son closes the door to his room, causing him to fidget a bit from his spot. he hasn’t seen it for years, after all. he’s about to pull you into a hug but instead, you quickly turn your heels around towards the kitchen.

“i still have things to do. either you help me with it or leave.”

he quickly takes off his shoes and follows you, taking in the view around the house before he enters the kitchen. the atmosphere is stuffy and tense while you sit on the stool to continue decorating the cake. 

“you can help by setting up the plates. top cabinet.” you break the awkward silence and keigo obliges, he reaches the cabinet to take out the available plates and put them nicely around the table. 

“you made it yourself?” he tries to make a conversation as he glances at you working on the cake. 

“yeah.” you simply reply without taking your eyes off from your work. 

“it’s nice. chocolate?”

“obviously.”

keigo sighs from the underwhelming response, “i know you don’t want me here but –”

“no shit.” you almost slam the table but quickly recompose yourself by taking a deep breath. for the sake of your son, you know you shouldn’t get into an argument right now, at least not today. 

“look, i’ll leave as soon as this is over if that’s what you want.”

you glare at him, “it’s more than what i want right now,” then it’s your turn to sigh. “but i doubt that’s what kyō would want.” 

keigo already knows his name from the letter but his lips etch into a warm smile at the sound of the name you’ve given to the-- his child and a small part of him wishes that he was there in the process of choosing a name for the boy together with you. 

“okay, just for tonight. we’ll pretend like we’re a happy family.” you stand up from the stool after putting the last candle and set the cake in the middle of the table. 

“...and what if we don’t have to?” he blurts out after a brief and quiet moment, immediately catching your attention. he notices the puzzled look on your face and continues, “what if we really start being a happy family from now and onwards?”

you blink once, twice. for a second, you feel a heavy pang in your chest as your brain processes the words that just came out from his mouth. it’s like déjà vu, only this time keigo has certainty in his voice.

the room falls dead silent again as you stare at each other. you’re finding words and about to open your mouth to say something but kyō suddenly interrupts from the corner of the kitchen and both of your attentions quickly turn to him.

“mommy..? i’m hungry.” 

“oh, sweetheart. you’re just in time!” you walk up to kyō to carry him in your arms before bringing him to the dining table. his eyes sparkle at the variety of food spread across the table and his wings flutter in excitement. 

“can you help light up the candles? the lighter is in the drawer.” you usher to keigo as you show your son his favorite food you made earlier while keigo quickly rummages through the drawer. he lights up each candle as you put down kyō on one of the chairs before he stands on his knees to reach close enough to blow the candles. the both of you excitedly sing happy birthday and clap your hands as he blows off the candles after a brief moment for a wish. 

“what did you wish for?” keigo asks, affectionately patting kyō on the head.

“i wish to be a hero like daddy!” he exclaims, arms and wings spread in enthusiasm. a bittersweet feeling engulfs him-- a part of him is disappointed and ashamed of himself while another part of him is elated and relieved that he’s still looked up upon by his own child. in the corner of his heart, keigo thinks he doesn’t deserve it. kyō is a splitting image of himself (minus the color of his eyes that he takes after you) and it easily brings back visions of him from the past. he wanted to be a hero too, but his father wasn’t someone he could look up to. hence, making endeavor the only man he idolized. 

he realizes he is lucky enough to be the person his son looks up to. he knows that this was what his own younger self would want. a father he can be proud of, a hero at that. keigo wants to make it right with whatever it’ll take.

the night proceeds smoothly, all three of you have fun together like any normal family would and bonding over lost times. keigo is thoughtful (though his choice seems a little bit conceited) enough to give kyō a present; an action figure of himself. unknowingly, the walls that you built around you by the time keigo arrived earlier slowly crumbles and you grow less wary around him as time ticks by. when it’s bedtime for the boy, keigo insists on putting him to bed so he can spend more time with him which you gladly consented to so you can also continue cleaning up the kitchen.

a set of footsteps coming down the stairs can be heard as you’re seated on one of the stools while sipping tea. 

“want some tea?” you offer without turning around to look at the male.

“sure.” he says as he walks up to you. 

you can feel his tall and lean build ghosting you from the back as you pour a cup for him but his hands suddenly reach your shoulders and give them light squeezes. 

“what are you doing?” you ask quizzically, glancing at the hand on your shoulder.

“giving you a massage.” he smiles innocently as he continues pressing on the knot in your stiff shoulders, making you sigh in reflex.

“trying to get on my good side?” you say in a mocking tone.

“hmm, just showing my appreciation to you.” his hands move lower to your spine, your back arches a little as he presses down your aching muscles. 

“you’re five years too late, keigo.” you sneer but welcome his service as you close your eyes and hum in content. it’s not that bad, you assure yourself in your head. 

keigo diligently continues to massage your back as the kitchen now fills with your quiet sighs and whimpers whenever he rubs on the sore spot. without you realizing, he slyly pulls the collar of your baggy shirt down and plants soft kisses on your bare shoulder.

“k-keigo?” you immediately open your eyes and flinch at the sudden touch.

he remains quiet while his hands work up and down your arms gently and his lips move further up to your earlobe, sending tingling sensations down to your core and you can already feel your nipples harden underneath your shirt. 

“relax.” his hot breath fans over your ear as he whispers. your cheeks are already burning red and you’re out of sarcastic remarks as you can only find yourself to indulge into his touches. 

you gasp in surprise when keigo’s hands sneakily move under your shirt and quickly unsnaps your bra. he massages your breasts and kneads them gently before teasing your erect nipple between his fingers. your hands firmly clenches the edge of the island to hold yourself as he nips on the crook of your neck, just gently to carefully not leave a mark. 

“you want more, babybird?” he coos as he realizes that your thighs are pressing against each other. as much as you hate to admit it, the nostalgic pet name tugs on your heartstrings and you find yourself melting after hearing it after years again. 

feeling embarrassed, you quietly nod your head. 

“i can’t hear you.” a teasing tone lingers in his voice. he knows what he’s doing and you hate him for it.

“more, keigo...” you whine. it sounds so innocent and adorable but it absolutely makes his cock twitch. noticing that you’ve been avoiding looking at him the whole time, he uses one of his hands to make you look at him and grins when he catches the red tint spread across your face before he presses his lips onto yours. 

the traces of your ego make you hesitate at first but you’re quick to lose it as he deepens it, as if to send you a silent message of how much he misses you while his tongue intertwines with yours. 

one of his hands remains to massage your mound while the other travels down south to easily part your legs and cups your heated sex. keigo rubs the clit against the fabric of your pants, eliciting breathy moans from your lips between kisses. you pull away and lean back to his body as he slides his hand under your pants, feeling the wet patch that is already staining your underwear. 

“already wet from all of that?” he says playfully, taking out his hand to look at the damp juices as he rubs it between his fingers. 

“says the man that was grinding his cock on my back.” you roll your eyes halfheartedly, missing the faint blush that becomes apparent on his cheeks.

keigo then reaches for the cups in front of you and pushes them aside before lifting you up on the kitchen island, making you turn towards him. he swiftly pulls down your pants along with your underwear, your cunt bare and glistening under the lights for him to see.

his golden irises lock with yours as he kicks the stool to the side and crouches down to spread your thighs apart. he starts to lap off your juices, tongue alternating between your throbbing clit and hole. your elbows help to prop you up as your head hangs back and your eyes close in pure bliss. 

keigo smacks and clenches your thighs to draw your attention to him, “baby, look at me.”

you submissively lift your head to look at him, eyes locking with each other again as he watches you squirm on the tongue flicking your clit and eats you out like a starved man having his first meal after a long day. 

you grab a lock of his blonde hair in one hand, pushing him closer as your legs tremble around his head, feeling the bubbling sensation of your orgasm building up. 

“mmh – gonna cum!” you cry out in ecstasy, instantly forgetting the people next door and your son that’s sound asleep on the upper floor as you chase after your high.

keigo smoothly slides two fingers inside your pussy and your hips begin to grind desperately onto them. he knows you’re close when he feels the walls clenching around him and with another suck on the clit, he quickly gets to tip you over the edge. 

“so good for me.” he coos as he pulls away, licking his fingers clean before carrying your panting body in his arms and walks over to sprawl your body on the couch. he hovers on top of you and kisses you again while his hands work on unzipping and taking off his lower garments to free his throbbing cock. 

he smears the precum by pumping his cock as he watches you down, adoring the look of absolute bliss on your face and half lidded eyes that he longed for over the years. 

“my songbird,” he purrs as he leans down to you and lines his cock with your wet cunt, “you’re so beautiful.”

if you’re already red, the endearing pet name makes you even redder. your gaze avoids his to hide your embarrassment but he only draws it back gently by your chin with his thumb and finger. 

“don’t you miss me?” his brows furrowed as he searches your face. you can only stare back into his eyes – bright irises filled with nothing but genuine curiosity and desolation. 

your lips pull into a thin line as you ponder for a moment, promptly unable to vocalize like earlier. it’s as if you let even one word escape your mouth, it would make you burst into tears instead. of course you missed him. your mind often wondered if he even thought of you at least once. even when you did make peace with the past, you still couldn’t bring yourself to be the one to make the first step. ego is an ugly thing and you were certain that keigo should be the one to look for you even if it was hard for him since you just disappeared out of his life.

noticing the reluctance to give him an answer, he shushes you. “it’s okay.” he kisses you sweetly on your nose. “but let me show how much i’ve missed you.”

he trails open mouthed kisses down your jaw, neck and collarbone as your hands run through his hair and down to his back. a soft whine manages to escape from your mouth when he nibbles on the soft flesh of your neck, instantly marking it red this time. 

his mouth then latches onto your nipple through your shirt, making you squirm beneath him. your hands clenches to the fabric of his shirt when you feel his fingers teasingly dancing between your wet folds and his thumb ghosting over your clit. 

keigo gives you a kiss on the lips again before pulling away, the cushion dips as he props himself on the knees, rubbing his hard cock against your wet slits and smearing it with your juices.

a low hiss slips from his lips as he slowly prods in the tip of his cock and your expression twists into discomfort as you feel him stretch you out more – a familiar mixture of pain and pleasure that you haven’t felt for a while.

keigo waits for you to adjust and as soon as you give him the greenlight, he continues to completely balls deep inside you. 

“babybird, you feel so good.” he grunts as he bucks his hips and slowly starts to move. 

you bite your lower lip hard, enough to draw blood as you try to stifle your moans. keigo leans down to kiss you while your arms find themselves wrapping around his neck. he thrusts harder and faster and your whimpers and whines finally find themselves shamelessly slipping past from your mouth.

“fucking– hah– perfect.” he pants as he pulls away to look at your flustered face, eyes half closed and mouth agape with pleasure. 

you quickly bury your face on the crook of his neck and hold onto him tighter while your legs wrap securely around his waist. keigo moves his thumb on your clit, pressing down and rubbing circles all to entice nothing but tightening the coil down in your core more. 

“keigo, keigo –” you cry as your nails dig the fabric on his back and your toes curl to the intense sensation.

“baby wants to cum?” he growls as he feels your walls clamping around his cock, making him buck his hips even wilder. 

“yesyesyes – oh god, keigo!” your mind turns putty and unable to form any more coherent words, making only his name being the only thing you remember as your eyes close shut while you’re nearing your high. 

“that’s it – baby. cum on my cock.” he encourages and you do just that. your pussy flutters as you finally reach your orgasm but his sporadic thrusts doesn’t stop until it starts to falter and his wings tremble.

“fuck. i’m gonna fill you up.” he grits through his teeth and his cock twitches before his wings spread wider as he releases his warm cum inside you. 

the both of your bodies stay against each other, chests heaving for air before he briefly pulls out his cock and lays on top of your chest. 

“yes.” your voice suddenly croaks, breaking the almost silent air in the room if not for the sound of yours and his breathing.

keigo lifts up his head to look at you confusingly before a lopsided smile curls on his lips when he hears you utter the next few words.

“yes. i missed you and i don’t want to pretend anymore.” you suddenly feel overwhelmed and tears start to well in your eyes. a flash of panic crosses his face and he pulls you closer into his embrace, hoping to calm you down as you sniffle on his chest. 

“shh, baby. i’m sorry. i know it’s too late and i was so fucking stupid but i’ll – ”

“i want to live as a happy family with you, keigo.” you cut him off, sobbing through his shirt. he pulls away at once to look at you, unable to believe what he just heard through the choking sob but it still makes even him want to cry. 

“babybird, i – ” he’s completely tongue-tied. at this point he can only manage to lean down to be close to you again. he peppers kisses all over your face, saying how thankful and happy he is.

“i love you, my little bird. i won’t fuck up this time, i promise.” he whispers, finally regaining his composure.

that night, keigo could barely sleep a wink. so many thoughts are running through his head. he glances at you sleeping peacefully next to him on the bed and he already pictures how it is to be waking up to see your face every morning. he also hopes that kyō doesn’t know how to fly yet so he could teach him how to use his wings. oh, he’ll also get to find an excuse to buy more buckets of chickens once you three will start living together. 

he can already imagine how the headlines will be bombarded about him having a family and he sighs at the thought, but he hopes that his publicist is ready for a hell lot of work.

duskamethyst © 2020 • do not modify, translate or repost anywhere.

[vritest]

Lost While Being In Love

andrew!peter parker x fem!reader

*mostly angst but a lot of fluff too

A/N: this is my first ff so I hope this is good enough! I would love feedback and as always enjoy! *you’re from Chicago because I’m from there too btw!*

Walking through New York City while it was snowy and filled with Christmas decorations wasn’t exactly the most homiest feelings. Looking at the couples with hands intertwined made your heart sink, you wish that for at least a moment you could feel that, so you thought going out for a drink at the bar would’ve made it at least a little bit better. Walking in your local bar you smelled all the drinks varying from beer to the very strong smell of whisky. You sat down at a stool when the bartender came over to you and asked what you would like, you just asked for a beer. Looking out the window you admired the beautiful view you had and smiled. That smile was later gone when you looked at someone who had asked you a question. He was tall, had fluffy brown hair and was wearing a long jacket he looked around your age. “Oh I’m sorry what’d you say?” You asked, as you looked up at him “I asked if there was anyone sitting here” he said with a small smile, “oh! uh no” he nodded and pulled out the stool next to you. He didn’t ask for a drink instead turned towards you “so what’s gotten you here?” He asked as you finished sipping your beer, you sighed and looked at him, when you noticed his brown eyes, that reminded you of chocolate. “Well I don’t really know. Honestly. I guess I’ve been feeling lonely recently. I’ve just moved in to my new apartment here and I’m new to New York. I’m originally from Chicago but I’m here because I felt like a needed a change you know? I don’t think that looking at couples that are in love would make it any better so I guess hiding here is a better option” you chucked, he looked at you softly as he listened to every single thing you’ve said lost in thought, he didn’t respond. Maybe you’ve said too much? “I’m sorry was that too much?” You asked breaking the silenced, he smiled and sighed “no no you’re fine. I understand where you’re coming from. We’ve all been there and we all get through it at some point” you nodded in agreement as you sipped more of your beer. He looked at the table and then at you again, “Peter Parker” he said with a warm smile, “y/n l/n” you responded.

The two of you shared a lot with eachother in the bar. Such as how he lost his girlfriend 4 years ago, it made you remember how you lost your sister who was like your best friend, do to lung cancer because she smoked a lot. You two noticed you had a lot of things in common and you really liked this, Peter Parker. “Its been so long since I’ve been in love” Peter said as you guys were walking through the streets to get to your apartment, “yeah me too. I havent been in love ever since my ex from high school, and it wasn’t even a great relationship” he laughed. While talking and sharing laughs you noticed that the two of you had the same sense of humor which made you feel the most comfortable you’ve felt in a long time. Arriving to your small apartment, you turned to face Peter at the door “hey thanks for this. I really appreciate it.” You said with a smile, that made him blush slightly, putting a hand on your shoulder he said “no problem” as you took out your keys from your pocket to unlock the door , you felt a hand grab your arm, you looked back at the tall brunette boy “you didn’t give me your number” he said, making you laugh, “right.” You said as you both exchanged numbers

Throughout the rest of the night all your thoughts revolved around the tall young man you met in the bar. You don’t know why you felt like that. He was just a random guy that happened to care about you, maybe that’s why you felt a connection, someone actually cared.

“I’m done y/n, dealing with your bullshit” your mom said as she slapped you. All you wanted to do was cry and cry until it formed a river under you. “Mom, I just want to have freedom all you’ve ever done to me is tell me I’m a disgrace and you’re never satisfied with everything I do. I GOT ABOVE AVERAGE GRADES FOR CRYING OUT LOUD. Now you literally ruined my life by declining my scholarship to my dream school.” you cried as you yelled. You hated yelling. It reminds you of the way your dad used to yell at your mom as well. “MAYBE BECAUSE YOURE A SHIT DAUGHTER? YOU DESERVE NOTHING Y/N. YOURE JUST LIKE YOUR DAMN FATHER” she yelled. That was your breaking point. Wiping your tears with your white “The Beatles” shirt, you ran to your room and started packing as much as you could. Crying is all you could do. You grabbed your backpack with all your clothes and your piggy bank which had all your money that you’ve saved up ever since you were a kid and because . You took a pack of cigarettes and your lighter which you had customized. Walking out of your messy room, you looked back at the house that was never full of love, and headed out, not even saying a goodbye.

Waking up in the morning was still weird. You’ve only been in New York for a few weeks, so far it wasn’t exactly great, but oh well you were trying to make it a little bit better. You stretched on your bed as you heard a notification sound coming from your phone, lifting your phone up, it was Peter.

8:32 a.m: Hey good morning. I was wondering if you’d like to go a cafe that just opened here, i haven’t gone so I figured I’d take you with me, if you’d like :)

You smiled as you remembered everything that had happened the day before, not even hesitating you started typing

8:40 a.m: Hi, of course I’d love to. Just let me know and what time and I’ll be there

You pressed send and smiled. It took you a few seconds to realize that you have been a smiling idiot for the whole time thinking about Peter, you looked in the mirror of your room that was covered by magazine covers you had put up as decoration. “Why is this happening to me??” You asked softly as you fell back on your bed.

You finally decided to get ready, you did your hair, and tried to dress well. While you were making breakfast for your self you decided to put on one of your all time favorite song “Sextape” by Deftones. You made yourself some pancakes and sausage that your older sister had taught you to make when you were 15 years old. Remembering the way you two used to vibe to Nirvana songs together made you smile. You had just finished breakfast as you heard a knock on your off white door, you opened it and Peter was standing there looking around, he noticed you and coughed awkwardly, “hey” he said, “hi” you responded smiling.

When you two arrived and the new cafe, you two took your order and sat on a table close to an old couple. You and Peter shared an interest of taking photos, he talked to you about how much he loves taking photos, everywhere he visited especially when he was on the top of buildings. You also remember when you used to live in Chicago how much you loved to walk around the streets in the summer when the skyline would be beautiful. Sipping your coffee as you listened to Peter Parker rambling about everything you couldn’t help but notice the tenderness of his eyes and how much you loved them. You didn’t even notice the old couple had come up to your table, “I hope you two get married soon. You guys seem so in love” the old woman said as she walked away “we’re not-“ you and Peter said at the same time, you looked at eachother and laughed. “I guess I have to propose to you now” Peter said laughing, you laughed harder. He reached out for something in his pocket, you were curious of what he had reached for. Peter kneeled down in front of you and you turned red. He took out a ring pop, watermelon flavored. You laughed harder that you have ever laughed in years, “y/n l/-??” He said as he stuttered to remember your last name, “l/n” you corrected him as you chuckled, “right. Will you marry me?” You gasped sarcastically, “oh my god yes!” You laughed. He placed the ring pop on your ring finger. “I can’t believe you just did that, Peter” you said as you sucked on your ring “I don’t know either”

The past few months you and Peter had been hanging out with eachother and always doing different things every time you two could go out, except when he was busy studying of course. You weren’t in college because of your current situation, instead you worked at that cafe he had invited you in the beginning of your friendship. You two had become extremely close. So close that you didn’t notice how the two of you were slowly falling in love. It was a Saturday and he was supposed to be at your place as he promised, this wasn’t new to you though. He had slowly been ending up more late to the days you two would agree to hang out. You wondered why, but you never really asked him about it, today though, you were done being curious and felt like you deserved the truth. Sitting in your room, you felt a window open up, you turned towards it and not being surprised, you saw Peter, with- a scratch on his eyebrow and a black eye. You hurried towards him and helped him in “Peter.. what the hell happened??” You asked as you caressed his face carefully, he hissed. “Uhm. Well. Uh - I tripped on my way here” you rolled your eyes, “bullshit” you muttered as you went to say him down on your bed as you took took out bandaids for him to use, “did the floor punched you and give you a black eye? Peter, I know something is going on you just don’t want to tell me” you muttered softly, he didn’t respond. Your eyes opened wide, “don’t tell me you’re apart of a gang of something?”, he choked on his saliva, “WHAT? No. Of course not” he said. You placed the bandaid on his eyebrow and sighed. You sat next to him in silence of the next 5 minutes. He didn’t say anything the whole time. “I’m Spider-Man.” He said breaking the silence. You looked at him straight in His eyes. Those eyes that could make you fall in love with him 100 times. “No way.” You said whispering, you looked at him and tried punching him, he held your hand just in time. “What the fuck y/n?” He said and laughed. “I was trying to see if you had the spider sense thingy that everyone says you have and apparently they weren’t wrong” you said raising and eyebrow, he chuckled of how cute you looked right now. “Wait. Does that mean you could take me to work without me having to worry about being late?” He looked at you and didn’t answer; hoping you would understand that the answer was no. The rest of the night was spent watching movies and eating like both you you always did. This wasn’t anything new, you two had watched millions of movies before. Suddenly, you felt a hand touch your hand. You looked at Peter, but he wasn’t looking at you. You grabbed his hand and layed on his shoulder. He started blushing like crazy, but surprisingly he didn’t really react. It was like your touch felt so much like home that it didn’t even feel uncomfortable or weird. He looked at you with such caring eyes as he admired everything about you. “Peter” you whispered, “yeah?” He asked softly, “does one of your powers make your best friend fall in love with you?” You asked, he laughed and raised your chin with his pointer finger. Now this, you weren’t expecting. Without even thinking twice, Peter kissed you. You felt like you were about to levitate or something. The kiss was so passionate and you could tell he’d been waiting for the perfect time to do this. Pulling away finally, the two of you stared at eachother just admiring eachother. “I dont think so” he finally answered. I guess it was true, you could be like one of the couples you had seen outside the bar that evening.

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! :)

[beyondspaceandstars]

The Wounded

Relationship: Steve Rogers x Reader [Dating], Bucky Barnes x Reader [Platonic] Warnings: mantions of kidnapping, slight depictions of PTSD, angst Summary: After you survive a kidnapping that ends up affecting you in ways you and Steve never anticipated, you turn to Bucky for comfort leaving Steve confused and insecure. A/N: alright this is an older one I had sitting on my computer i felt like uploading but very sorry for the lack of content! I am currently dealing with finals but this is my last year so fingers crossed i’ll have more time after this! Still, please enjoy this, I remember really enjoying writing it :)

Masterlist

You shot up in bed suddenly, praying your eyes would adjust to the pitch black darkness of your bedroom fast enough to ease your brain. As your heart raced and sides ached with bruises, you took in your surroundings finally.

You were in your bed, your boyfriend Steve sleeping peacefully next to you. You knew this in your brain but your heart didn’t. It still raced relentlessly, just a haunting reminder of your latest nightmare.

The nightmares always had the same theme. They always seemed to circle back to your troubling and scarring kidnapping you had suffered just a few weeks ago. It was a devastating ploy by some equally devastating men to get to your boyfriend. The abduction didn’t last very long — just about a week in some musty, dirty cell being kicked around — but the scars it left on your brain where so much deeper than you had ever realized until recently.

The physical abuse was bad but the bruises and cuts were healing just fine. It was the mental and emotional games they played that was going to take longer to ease. The words were haunting and they followed you in every crevasse of your brain, typically leaving you running on a couple of hours a sleep. It was a cruel routine: go to bed safe and sound, find peace for two hours, wake up in a cold sweat, watch mindless TV in the common area until breakfast.

Here we go, you thought as you made your way out of the bed. Steve was still undisturbed, in a peaceful dream sleep, typically unaware of your absence. The few times he had caught on you rushed him back to bed, claiming you just wanted a midnight snack. He never questioned it but his eyes always told you he wasn’t convinced. You ignored it — you just couldn’t tell him. The guilt he carried about your kidnapping was unbelievable. You worked so hard to convince him you were alright, it wasn’t ever his fault, and that the wounds were healing because you couldn’t bare to see those eyes in such a miserable state.

It really wasn’t a total lie — the wounds were swell and you wouldn’t dare to blame him for something not in his control — but then the nightmares started. The daunting voice began chiming in. The depression… the anxiety… the fear… it all came at once so unexpectedly.

You tugged on your fluffy robe along with your slippers and made your way to the kitchen. As you rounded the corner you were stunned to see the kitchen light already on. Peaking your head in, your eyes fell on Bucky who was situated at the kitchen island  snacking on some chips.

You stared, unsure of whether you should head to the living room and venture into the kitchen. No one had ever been up with you before and if they did, they never made themselves known.

"I can feel you staring, Y/N."

Bucky’s rough voice brought you out of your ridiculous phase. You sighed and made your way to the fridge.

"What are you doing up?" You asked, grabbing a carton of vanilla ice cream along with a spoon and making your way to the island. You stood opposite of him, watching and waiting for a reply as he crunched on the chips.

"Isn’t this the time you always get up?"

His question stunned you. Holding his intense stare, you placed your spoon on the counter next to the ice cream. Suddenly, your stomach was in a knot. Maybe a part of you didn’t want anyone to know what was going on.

"I just wanted a snack," You gave your go-to spiel but the ex-assassin wasn’t buying one bit of it.

"Every night?" Bucky scoffed. "Probably should eat a bigger dinner, then."

You rolled your eyes as he gave you his know-it-all smirk. You loved Bucky really —totally loved his company and all that — he had been such a great friend to you and so inviting but no matter what, without a fail, he could always pick up on anything that was off. Steve, of course, could see right through you but he always gave you the benefit of the doubt. He was gentler with you, never wanting to pry or upset you, and you were so thankful for that. But Bucky didn’t give a shit — if something was wrong he was gonna find out one way or another.

"Why are you up?" You repeated your initial question, getting a bit fed up with this now. He stalled your question and reached for more chips. You sighed in annoyance and opened the ice cream carton, digging into the creamy deliciousness.

"Something’s up with you," Bucky finally answered. His voice was a bit softer and way less cocky. Hearing someone express they saw you weren’t okay nearly had you in tears. You shoveled more ice cream in your mouth, staring down at the granite counter.

You shook your head. "Just wanted a snack."

"Jesus Christ, Y/N." Bucky groaned. "Come on, don’t make this hard." You placed your spoon in the carton, pushing it to the side. You fiddled with your nails as thoughts and feelings swarmed in your brain. It couldn’t hurt for someone to know, right?

"Nightmares," You spoke softly, voice cracking ever so slightly. "Just some bad nightmares."

"The kidnapping," He whispered. You saw his fists clinch at the mention of it. Your kidnapping had shocked everyone. They all had their own way of handling it but usually it was just a lot of confusion. You weren’t some hero. You didn’t have magical power or a fancy training. You were just a nurse who bandaged up the heroes when they came back. Even with dating Steve, no one expected you to be a casualty.

"It’s really messing with my brain," The words were rough to get out but once they were out there, you felt a new freedom. A weight you never realized was so heavy was being lifted so carelessly with words.

Bucky just nodded and waited for you to continue.

From then on, your nightly routine was no longer a lonesome thing. Bucky began joining you every night with snacks and a therapy session. It felt easy to talk with him about it especially since he understood. He didn’t have to pretend to know how you felt — he had felt it all, too. He got what being captive was like, how the mental manipulation went, how strong the effects of it all could be… You for once didn’t feel crazy. But most importantly — someone knew. Like really knew. And you were immensely grateful.

It seemed to be helping as well. You knew when the thoughts got rough, you could just spew it all out. You could talk about what exactly had happened to you without fear of being looked at differently. The whole thing was like breathing fresh air. You could even sometimes fall back asleep on the couch which now put your sleeping time up to four glorious hours.

The nightly chats really put your daytime spirits back up. So much so, Steve was getting a little suspicious. While he was so relieved you seemed to be doing better, the steps you took to get there were still a mystery to him and you could tell he was curious. When you’d join him in your shared room at the end of the day, he’d ask more questions about what you had done through the day. It was almost like he wanted a play-by-play and you did your best to comply.

It wasn’t until a week or so later that he started catching on to you leaving in the middle of the night. Without knowing it, he had used all his might to stay up one night to see if something was going on. You didn’t appear to be doing anything but work during the day so something must’ve been happening in the night — and that’s when his mind wandered. The thoughts of what could be helping you started to get a little unpleasant.

It was a random Tuesday night and you were on the couch with Bucky eating some pretzels. He was sitting up right while you were laying on the couch, legs thrown over his lap. You were going on about how your nightmares had gotten weaker when unexpected foot steps halted your words.

"What’s this?" The unmistakably strong voice of your boyfriend boomed through the living room. You scrambled to sit up, throwing pretzels all over the coffee table. Both stunned and unsure, you and Bucky stared at Steve. His demeanor was hard, his face unamused, and his eye said he was ready for a fight.

"Steve, babe, what-," You fumbled for your words, trying your best to reason. He hadn’t caught you two doing anything but his energy was so startling it made you unexplainably scared.

"What? What am I doing up? What are you doing up?" He marched towards the couch. Hesitantly, you stood up to face him. Bucky stayed seated, looking at you both with a slight expression of annoyance. He knew how possessive his best friend could get but this felt excessive.

"Just wanted a snack-,"

"Don’t bullshit me," Steve growled, taking an intimidating step towards you. You jumped at the harshness. Sure, you guys had had disagreements before but this was entirely new.

"I… I’m not… Steve-,"

Steve took a deep breath.

"Y/N," His voice got deeper. It was slightly too calm compared to his attitude just seconds before. "Tell me why you’re up at night sneaking around with my best friend."

"Sneaking around?!" You gasped. "Steve, that is not-,"

"OH, IT’S NOT?" Steve’s voice boomed throughout the common area. Even a watching Bucky jumped at the noise.

You quickly backed away from him, completely scared beyond belief. His eyes were harsh, his entire demeanor fuming with anger. You had never seen anything like this from him and it started to bring up the memories you worked so hard to heal from.

"Steve, man, take it down a notch…" Bucky finally stood from the couch and placed his hands on Steve’s shoulder.

Steve flinched back, nearly ready to throw one at Bucky, but something in him clicked. He lowered his hand and took a few deep breaths. Coming to his senses, he looked at you and saw the absolute horror on your face. He had never seen you look at him like that and it broke him into a million pieces.

"I… just… what the hell is going on?" Steve meant for it to come out nicer, but the harshness was yet to leave him and his tone. You started rubbing your hands together, a nervous tick you’ve had forever. Bucky tried to get you to stop when he noticed your movements, but Steve’s cold glare wouldn’t let him anywhere near you.

"I can’t sleep anymore," you said, breaking the silence with a much more powerful voice than you intended. You didn’t know you had the strength. "Ever since… I can’t sleep. I keep having these nightmares and Bucky’s been helping."

Steve scoffed, "Helping?"

Bucky rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. Now you were getting weary of both super soldiers.

"We sit up talking," Bucky explained. "It helps her… well both of us, really, to talk, watch TV… anything."

"And you didn’t tell me this because…?" Steve asked, pointing his attention back on you. When his eyes met yours, a shiver went down your spine as his cold gaze. You sighed, realizing the gig was up.

"God, Steve, I didn’t wanna worry you!" You exclaimed. "The last thing you need is a girlfriend with PTSD. You go through enough shit and I just didn’t wanna pile it on."

The admission sat in the air heavily around you three. Bucky looked relieve you finally said something but Steve’s eyes just held so much confusion. Personally, you felt so much weight coming off you. You thought you’d never have to tell him, assumed everything would sort itself out, but no, you finally spoke up.

"Honey," Steve sighed with sudden tears forming in his eyes. "You didn’t… You shouldn’t have done that, you know you can tell me anything, right?"

You nodded, "Steve it was just so scary. I didn’t know what to do. Bucky was just there and he got it and would just sit up with me and-,"

"Alright, hon," Steve cut you off and made his way closer. Thankfully, you didn’t flinch away. "I understand and I’m glad you had someone, but I would’ve helped. I can help you, sweetheart."

"I’m sorry," You whispered as he pulled you into a hug. You threw your arms around his torso and buried your face in his chest, letting the pent up tears flow. Steve rest his chin on your head, stroking your hair softly.

"I didn’t know you were hurting this much," he admitted.

"It’s been so fucking scary,"

Steve could almost feel his heart breaking at the sound of your voice alone. Your words just piled on so much.

"I should let you two…" Bucky began, essentially forgotten standing next to you two. You pulled away from Steve to look at him.

"Thank you, Buck," you said.

Steve nodded in agreement. "I’m sorry for the overreacting I just… I thought the worst, but really you probably saved my girl."

Bucky gave a small smile and patted Steve on the back. "I didn’t do anything. It’s her strength you gotta thank."

With that, he made his way to the elevator and back to his room, leaving you two still standing in an embrace in the common area. You stared up at Steve, watching his expression towards you change. What was once so scary and harsh was back to the softest man you’d ever met.

"We’ll make some calls in the morning but for now, would you come back to bed?" Steve asked. "I can’t imagine anymore nights without you."

You nodded, giving him a peck on the lips. He led you back to the shared bedroom and for once, you went to bed with a sense of hope.

[ssahotchhner]

hunter, hunted

i should not be so excited about this but i just discovered that when you copy and paste text into a new post tumblr FINALLY allows italics and bolded fonts to be transferred over so I don't have to remember to go through it and do it myself again i could literally CRY rn. ANYWAY I thought it would be fun to write a oneshot like the Profiler, Profiled where Morgan is accused of murder. i created an oc for this one and I hope you love April I've spent a lot of time with her the last couple of weeks (:

words: 13.4k

pairing: hotch x oc

warnings: detailed descriptions of murder and torture and sexual assault

questions comments concerns

“Where’s the weapon, April?”

It was almost laughable. A federal agent handcuffed in an interrogation room being questioned for murder in her small town while visiting a childhood friend. She shakes her head at the detective, laughing. “I carry a gun on me at all times because, as I said, I’m a federal agent. You have it in your possession already. If you want to test it to see if I’ve fired it recently, be my guest. You won’t find anything.”

“You’re right, we won’t find anything because Brandon Perry died from blunt force trauma to the head. So I’ll ask you again, where is the weapon?”

This time, April does laugh. Of course he wasn’t shot. That would be too easy. “You know what, Detective Barnes, if you hadn’t kicked my hotel door down in the middle of the night, handcuffed me and dragged me in here, I may have cooperated with the investigation, but here we are. So I’ll tell you again: my Unit Chief is SSA Aaron Hotchner. I won’t be answering any more questions until I can speak with him.”

The middle aged man glares at her until finally getting up and leaving her alone in the interrogation room. She rested her head on the table and hoped that maybe that stupid motherfucker would listen to her this time.

***

“Hunter has been detained in Bar Harbor, Maine.” Hotch tells the team in the conference room.

JJ frowns, “Isn’t that her hometown? Why has she been arrested?”

“For murder.” Hotch says. Before the team can react, he pulls up a picture of Brandon Perry’s body, “Brandon Perry was found yesterday by a fisherman just off the docks a week after he was released from prison on parole. He had been bludgeoned to death with some sort of blunt object, the M.E. suggests a baseball bat.”

“And why do they think April did this?” Spencer asks.

Hotch clicks a button and a picture of a couple brutally murdered in their bed, a little boy who’s throat had been slashed, and a little girl with brown hair and bright green eyes, alive and well filled the screen, “Because he was serving time for the murders of Addison, Jacob, and Timothy Hunter. April’s family.”

Everyone stares at the monitor in shock, “Her whole family was murdered when she was a kid… and she never mentioned it to us?” Penelope asks, her lower lip trembling.

“April was left relatively unharmed, but she had been sexually assaulted by the assailant. She said he was tall, but he had on a ski mask so she was never able to give solid identification.” Hotch finishes.

“So how’d they connect these murders to Brandon Perry?” Rossi asks.

“He was connected to a couple other home invasions and assaults nearby so he entered a plea deal. The local police were under a lot of pressure to close the case.”

“Breaking into homes to murdering almost an entire family is a big escalation.” Morgan says.

Hotch nods, “I thought so too.”

“April was just a kid,” Prentiss says, “And to go through a trauma like that, I’m sure she believed whatever the police fed her. And to see him be released from prison like that… I hate to say it, but it could have been the trigger.”

Penelope’s shaking her head, “No, no, you guys don’t really think April did this, do you?”

Everyone’s silent for a moment and then Morgan speaks, “Baby girl, if she’s innocent, we’ll prove it. But we can’t rule out the possibility that she did this just yet.”

“I know April hasn’t been here that long,” Garcia says, “But she is still a part of this family. You can all treat her like an unsub, but I won’t.” She finishes and marches out of the conference room.

Aaron sighs, “Wheels up in thirty.” He says resolutely before leaving the room.

***

Hotch walked into the police station, the team at his back and was greeted by a man about April’s age who introduced himself as Detective Fielder. “Detective, I’d like to speak to my agent.” Hotch demanded after shaking the man’s hand.

The man shrugged, “Sorry, sir. My partner’s in there with her. She’s stubborn as hell. I went to school with her, you know it’s a shame the way her family died but… must’ve knocked a screw loose or somethin’. She ain’t ever been the same.”

Aaron thought it over, killers had made their way into the bureau before. Not like this, though. Not under the nose of his whole team. April kept to herself, but she had joined this team less than a year ago, it would be overwhelming for anyone. “You misunderstand, detective. It wasn’t a request. Bring me to my agent.”

Reluctantly, the younger detective brought Hotch to the back of the station where he could already hear another man, older by the sounds of it, screaming at April.

She was staring back at him, her posture relaxed, looking more annoyed than anything. Hotch walked in and she relaxed further, only then letting on that she had been putting on a show of being unbothered for the detective, “Thank God.” April sighs, “I thought maybe they didn’t call you.”

“Are you alright?” He asks her first, unable to explain why hearing another man scream at you had made his blood boil.

“I’m fine,” She says and directs her attention back to the older detective, “Detective Barnes won’t even get me a water, though.”

“Detective Fielder, get April some water.” Hotch demands. He can feel the two men exchange a look behind him before the younger detective leaves the room. “Detective Barnes, uncuff my agent.”

“You can’t let her go, you don’t have jurisdiction here.” He growls.

“I’m not suggesting you let her go, but even if you’re right she committed a one off crime of revenge. She’s not a threat to anyone here. Uncuff her.” The detective glared at April who only smirked at him. “Now, detective.” Aaron said, firmer this time.

With a look of disgust on his face, the detective uncuffed a smiling April as detective Fielder came back in the room with a cup of water. “Thank you, Billy.” April said as the detective placed the cup in front of her. He ignored her completely.

“I’d like to speak to her alone.”

“Like Hell.” Detective Barnes spat.

“With all due respect, detective, it doesn’t appear that you’ve gotten much out of her. You’re welcome to watch through the window, but I will be questioning her. Clear the room.” They stared at each other for another few moments before the detectives both left the room. Hotch turned back to April whose entire demeanor changed. She sighed, relaxing her shoulders and slouching over the table as she rubbed at her wrists where the cuffs had been. The antagonizing behavior Hotch had just witnessed her exhibit completely vanished.

“You don’t help when you antagonize them like that.” Hotch says.

She shrugs, “The men in this town don’t like a woman who thinks she’s his equal. They never liked my attitude. They like it even less now that I outrank them. Either I act like the superior I am, even in cuffs, or they force me into submission.”

He sits down at the table across from her, “Why didn’t you tell me about your family? It wasn’t in your file.”

“Strauss knew.” April says, immediately defensive. She hadn’t lied, the bureau knew.

“But you didn’t want me or the team knowing, why?” She doesn’t answer him, just stares at her hands. “April, I can’t help you if I don’t know.” He says gently.

Finally she looks up and sighs, “When I was twelve my entire family was brutalized and murdered in front of me, but not before the unsub raped me in front of my parents. And I didn’t react the way the people of this town wanted me to. I was twelve and I was covered in semen when he left. So I showered before calling 911. I didn’t cry even once in front of anyone and I never spoke about what happened to anyone, not even the police. Only enough to tell them that I had no idea what he looked like, but I thought he was white.” Her eyes water just slightly and she doesn’t meet his eyes, “For the six years after the murders that I stayed in this town, I know a lot of people thought I did it. That I was some kind of psychopath. So no, I didn’t want it in my file.”

“You thought maybe we’d arrive at the same decision the town did.” Hotch opens the case file, “But you were never tried or even considered a real suspect. There was no physical evidence.”

She smiles sadly, “No physical evidence means nothing to a small town who’s rarely ever seen a scandal, and certainly nothing like this.”

He stares at her for a moment, “And so when Brandon Perry was released from jail, you thought he hadn’t suffered nearly enough so you came back up here and killed him.” April laughs and Hotch can see he’s made her feel antagonistic again, “This isn’t funny, April, you’re a suspect in a homicide.”

“No, Hotch, you don’t understand. It’s funny because I don’t even believe Brandon Perry killed my family and I haven’t believed that for a long long time. Which is why it would make no goddamn sense for me to kill him.”

“That’s bullshit!” The door bursts open and detective Barnes walks in.

“Detective--” Hotch stands as if to shield her and April nearly frowns at how protective he seems to be of her right now. She had seen him this way around the rest of the team, but never her.

“You told Detective Fielder when you were fifteen that you would kill that son of bitch yourself if he ever got out of jail.”

Hotch looks at April with a bit of annoyance, he hated when others had more information than him and from the second he walked in here she kept hiding things from him, not telling him the whole truth.

She lazily rolls her eyes and stares at Billy, “I was fifteen. I was angry. He cooperated with the police so he had the opportunity to get parole after fifteen years? Get his life back after I thought he had ruined mine? Yeah, I said some stupid shit, I think any kid would have.”

“When did you start to doubt that Brandon Perry had killed your family?” Hotch asks, but she’s still shooting daggers at the other detectives, “Agent, eyes here.” He says roughly, growing impatient with her.

Her eyes snap to his, “I used to lurk on support pages for people whose loved ones had been murdered and I remember seeing that this girl described… Almost exactly what had happened to my family, but she said it happened while Brandon was on trial here. She lived a couple towns over.”

“So what did you do?”

She shrugs, “Nothing, I was seventeen, I didn’t have any resources there was nothing I could do.”

Hotch sits down across from her again, leaning over the table so he’s closer to her, “You really expect me to believe, with the conviction you just said Brandon is innocent, that you didn’t look into this further?” She stays quiet and won’t meet his eyes, “I can have Garcia search your desk and computer if you’d rather do this that way.”

She leans back in her chair, rolling her eyes, “Jesus fucking Christ, I’m not a fucking criminal.”

“Then tell me what you know.” Hotch says, voice raised.

“Fine! I started volunteering at the police station so I could get access to files. I was good with the digital databases, but no one else was so they basically gave me free reign. I was able to find three similar cases, all within a couple years of each other but in different cities. One of them, he crossed into New Hampshire. All of the local police departments either arrested someone like Brandon or dismissed it as a one off crime and let it go cold. The files are in my desk drawer at the BAU.”

“You carried them with you all this time?”

She picks at the cuticles around her thumb, something Hotch noticed weeks ago she does when she’s nervous. “I thought… I thought about asking you guys to just look at the case a million times. See if you saw what I saw. And if you didn’t then maybe I could finally move on.”

“So why didn’t you ask?”

Her eyes dart around the room, to the detectives, the one way window, and then back to Hotch, “You guys, the team, you all have… This unbreakable bond and I… I barely just got here and I thought if I’d asked…” She sighs and runs her hands through her hair, “I just… I didn’t think you’d care.”

“The whole team flew out here at the drop of hat for you and you think we wouldn’t care?”

She frowns, “The whole team is here?”

“Yes.”

April sits back in her chair, looking dazed.

“Detectives, you’ll be releasing Agent Hunter from your custody now and since we have reason to believe there’s a serial killer loose and across state lines, we’ll be staying on the case.”

“You don’t really believe anything she’s saying, do you? She’s a psychopath!” Detective Barnes fumed.

Hotch stands and steps to the detective who immediately takes a step back after noticing Hotch’s menacing stance, “She is a federal agent and is no longer a suspect, you have no physical evidence and you just lost motive. You will speak to her with respect and if you don’t think you can handle that I’ll contact your superintendent and have you removed from the case. Is that clear?”

The detective stood back and out of their way, April looking at the ground so Hotch wouldn’t have to yell at her for antagonizing them again.

“What’s the history with you and Billy?” Hotch asks as they walk out of the room.

April rolls her eyes, “He was my high school boyfriend.”

“Oh,” Hotch muses, “You can do better.”

Before she can figure out if he was joking or not, the team realizes she’s walking of her own free will and they seem to all release the tension in their bodies. JJ walks to April first, pulling her into a hug before she can react.

April slowly raises her arms to hug JJ back, “I wish you had told us sooner.” Is all she says.

“I’m sorry you guys came all the way out here.” April addresses the team when JJ moves away from her.

“That’s okay, Hunter, we’re just glad to see you aren’t a murderer.” Morgan teases.

“We might actually be staying here for a while after all.” Hotch says.

Prentiss frowns, “Is there a case here?”

April opens and closes her mouth, “I-- Maybe.”

“Why don’t you call Garcia, ask her to get those files to everyone.” Hotch says to her quietly.

April nods and walks off.

“What’s going on, Hotch?” Rossi asks.

Hotch pushes his hands in his pockets, “The reason we were able to clear Hunter is because she has no motive. She doesn’t believe Brandon Perry killed her family and she hasn’t since she was a teenager.” He pauses, “She thinks the murders may be the work of a serial killer. She found three additional cases nearby, one crosses over to New Hampshire, that she believes are the work of the same unsub.”

Prentiss slowly nods, “And you want us to see if that’s true or not.”

Hotch nods, “I’m sure April would really appreciate our support.”

Everyone on the team is already nodding when April comes back, “So, as Penelope might say… Avengers assemble?” She asks hopefully.

Thankfully, they all laugh and nod, even Hotch cracks a smile, “Great.” April sighs in relief, “Let’s go to the conference room.”

With Garcia on a laptop screen, April tells them everything she knows, which admittedly, isn’t much. However, there are overwhelming similarities between the cases.

“Every family he chose was wife, husband, two kids. The eldest was the daughter all between the ages of 11-13 and in each case the daughter was raped and kept alive.” April was speaking as if she wasn’t speaking about herself and Hotch would be lying if he said it didn’t concern him. “In each case the parents were brutally tortured with a knife, forced to watch the rape and then killed with a fatal gunshot to the head. The boy was always killed first and it was always quick.”

“A mercy kill?” Reid muses.

April sighs, “I’ve never been able to figure that part out. It’s obvious he gets off on the rape and torture of the parents and daughter, but why not leave the boy alive the way he always leaves the daughter if it’s out of mercy?”

“It could be he thinks he’s sparing the boy the pain and trauma of having to go through the after effects of watching his parents and sister tortured.” Prentiss says.

“When all is said and done the daughter suffers the most psychologically.” Hotch says, “She could be the real target, maybe a surrogate for someone he knew.”

At this point, Hotch notices the way April is staring at the table, eyes unfocused, “Hunter,” Her eyes shoot up, “You must be exhausted, let me drive you back to the hotel so you can get some rest.”

“Hotch, I’m fine, I want to help.”

“No,” He says and she frowns, “If the daughter is the true target we’re going to have to dive deeper into victimology. Why he chose you. You don’t want to be here for that.”

Everyone’s quiet and deliberately looks away from April. She sighs, “Fine, but I’m coming back first thing in the morning.” She stands and walks out of the conference room without waiting for Hotch.

“Garcia, see what you can find about April’s childhood as well as the other victims and let us know if there’s any similarities.” Hotch says.

“It feels icky, but I’ll do it.” Garcia responds.

“I’ll be back.” Hotch addresses the rest of the team before heading after April.

They ride in silence for a few minutes, Hotch glancing over to the passenger seat every few seconds. “Whatever you want to say just say it.” April says, growing tired of the constant glances.

“You don’t have to keep working on this case like it’s any other case--”

“It’s not just any other case.”

“I know,” He says gently, “I’m worried about you. I know you bottle things up, showing emotion to other people makes you feel vulnerable, which in turn makes you feel weak. And I worry that the way you’re bottling up your rage is going to lead to you taking it out on--”

“I didn’t kill Brandon.” She says.

“I know you didn’t. But if we do find the real killer, I can’t let you come with us into the field until he’s been taken into custody.”

“Hotch--”

“It’s not up for discussion. I’m sorry.”

She sat back in the seat and crossed her arms over her chest and they continue on in silence for a while longer. “Do you think our unsub is also responsible for Brandon’s death?” Hotch felt guilty about upsetting her and thought maybe getting her brain back into work mode would stop her from giving him the silent treatment.

For a few moments he thinks she might continue to ignore him, but finally, she sighs, “It’s possible. If we think he gets off on the suffering of the daughters, he might be upset that I thought he had been caught. That I felt safe knowing he was behind bars. Killing Brandon after he was released could have been a message to me that he’s still out there and obviously following me.”

“You don’t feel safe anymore.”

“That’s not what I said.”

“It was implied.” Hotch pauses, “I can stay at the hotel with you, work with the team remotely from the room next to yours.”

He expects her to refuse, but instead she agrees. “Okay.” She says quietly. This only worries him more as she is typically unlikely to accept help unless he insists upon it.

They walk up to the hotel room in silence and Hotch stands behind her as she unlocks her door, “Hey,” He says softly and she turns, “Anything you need, anything at all, I’ll be right there.” He nods his head to the door next to them.

“Thank you.” She says, giving him a small smile before pushing the hotel door open and then quickly closing it behind her.

He stands there for a moment, staring at the space she was just standing in before sighing and going to his own room.

“How is she doing?” Rossi asks when he calls the team from his room to let them know he’ll be staying there.

“She won’t admit it, but she’s scared. She thinks he might be following her and that Brandon Perry was a message to her that he’s still out there.”

“That would make sense if we think the girls are the real targets.” Prentiss chimes in.

Hotch stays on the phone with them a little while longer before they all decide to head back to the hotel. He stares at the wall that separates him from April and tries to get his mind to quiet enough to rest. He’s right here. Nothing will hurt her if he’s right here. He thought about how just last week Rossi had teased him for catching him staring at April. He had nearly convinced Aaron to ask her out. But she was so distant and hard to read and he didn’t want to chance rejection. Eventually, he closes his eyes and drifts off, an image of you smiling at him on the backs of his eyelids.

***

April was exhausted, but she stared at the ceiling for what felt like hours. Small noises that she never thought twice about now startled her. Hotch is next door. She reminded herself. She thought about the comment he made about Billy: You could do better. Had he been… Flirting? Aaron Hotchner… Flirting? It felt absurd. Shaking the thought out of her head, she got up and poured herself some water from the Brita in the mini fridge. Finally, after drinking the water, she’s able to fall asleep.

The breeze against her face wakes her. Slowly blinking her eyes into consciousness, she notices the balcony doors are open. Those were closed when I fell asleep, She thinks to herself and shoots up in bed, scrambling for her gun as her heart races. April considers yelling to Hotch, but if he’s still here she doesn’t want to scare him off.

On the wall at the foot of her bed reads “Welcome Home” in what looks like blood. Under it sits her favorite childhood teddy bear, head ripped clean off. She tightens her grip on the gun in order to stop the shaking and then glances around the room, but there’s nothing. Then she slowly opens the bathroom door. Pointing her gun at the shower, the curtain moves. She doesn’t hesitate she fires off four rounds, breathing hard. She doesn’t hear a body fall. Reaching out she pushes the curtain, but no one’s there.

Seconds later, Hotch is calling her name, but he doesn’t wait for a response before kicking down the door. “Hunter?” He calls again and she thinks she might hear fear in his voice. Fear for her?

“I’m in the bathroom. You can put down your gun, it’s clear.” He appears behind her a moment later, still staring at the shower, “I thought he was still in here.”

She walks around him and back out to where he left the message, “He came in through the balcony, I— I thought I locked it…” She trails off, looking at the glass of water on the table and realizing she can’t remember when she fell asleep.

“What is it?” Hotch asks.

“He was in here before. I think he drugged my water.”

He narrows his eyes at her, “We should go to the hospital then, I’ll have the team come here and treat this as a crime scene.”

“I don’t need to go to the hospital, I’m fine—“

“We don’t know what he gave you or how much, besides, having you tested will tell us what he used faster than sending a sample of the water to Quantico.”

“Fine.” She agrees begrudgingly, he was right. She walks over to her bag of clothes and it’s only at this moment that she realizes she had worn only an oversized t-shirt to bed and Hotch was making a valiant effort not to stare at her legs.

“I’ll, um, I have to get dressed as well.” He says hurriedly, gesturing to the pajama pants he’s wearing. He leaves before she can say anything else. Under normal circumstances, April’s sure this would have made her laugh, but that teddy bear seems to be staring her down. She gets dressed and leaves the room without another glance.

***

April stares out the window of the SUV in silence while Hotch calls Rossi to fill him in on what happened so the rest of the team can start assessing her hotel room. When he hangs up, she feels his eyes darting between her and the road again.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asks quietly.

She’s quiet for a moment and then she takes a shaky breath, “That teddy bear went missing from my room a couple weeks before the murders. It was my favorite.” She swipes impatiently at the tears that start falling, “I blamed Timmy for it, we fought about it for hours. He felt so bad that I was mad at him he used his birthday money to buy me another one. I really thought he took it.” She tilts her head back in the headrest, trying desperately to stop the impending sobs.

Hotch doesn’t say anything, but he reaches across the car to hold her hand. To her own surprise, she lets him, the calluses on his thumb rubbing reassuring circles on the back of her hand.

***

“What do you have, Garcia?” Hotch steps out of your examination room for a moment to accept the call.

“How is she?” Penelope asks first.

“She’s… shaken up. But, like everyone else on this team does an excellent job of seeming unaffected.”

She sighs, “My poor wonder woman. Anyway, I think I found the connection between all the daughters.”

“What is it?”

“Well, it turns out that our April was a very talented child. Her parents took her to talent shows regularly, she was voted ‘Most Likely To Make It To Hollywood’ in her middle school yearbook.”

Hotch frowns and looks back at April, “We’re talking about the same federal agent, right?”

“I know, sir, not much surprises me anymore, but this did. There’s videos of her singing all over the internet, she was on the local news, quite the young star.”

“And the other victims?”

“All singers, sir. Every last one.”

“Thanks, Garcia.”

He walks back into April’s room, “You used to be a singer.” He says.

She rolls her eyes, “So?”

“So all the other daughters were singers too.” She sets her jaw and won’t meet his eyes. She’s not surprised by this information. “Why didn’t you mention it?”

“I didn’t think it was relevant.”

“You didn’t think it was relevant that there was a connection between all of the victims?”

She sighs and she feels shame at his obvious disappointment, “I’m sorry. I’ve worked really hard to block it out, sometimes I honestly forget.”

“What else aren’t you telling me?”

She bites her lip and looks down at her hands, picking at the cuticles around her thumb again, “He made me sing while… While he raped me.”

“Is there anything else?”

“No. I swear.”

He stares at her for moment and she knows he’s trying to see if she’s lying. It makes her angry at him, but also at herself. Maybe Hotch had never been as fond of her as the others, but he had never distrusted her. Just another thing the unsub had taken from her. “What song did he make you sing?”

The question is so painful to think about that she visibly flinches, “Do you really need to know that?”

“You know I do.” He says softly.

She looks away from him again, back to the cuticle on her thumb that she’s made bleed, “Like A Virgin by Madonna.”

He places his hand over hers again and she finds it almost alarming the way his touch seems to immediately calm her. “April, we won’t stop until we find him. I promise.”

She gives him a teary smile, “Will you stay with me?”

He smiles back at her, giving her a hand a slight squeeze and his smile takes her breath away, “I’ll be glued to your side until this case is over.”

***

A couple hours later they had found out that there was a classic date rape drug in April’s system: Gamma-hydroxybutyric acid, or GHB. The drug is usually prescribed for narcolepsy, but it was most often obtained illegally from Mexican pharmacies which they assumed was how the unsub got it.

“I’m bringing you back to the police station so you can stay with me and the team like I promised, but you don’t have to keep working the case.” Hotch says as he drives.

“Funny that you think you can stop me from working the case.”

He smirks a bit and brings his attention back to the road.

“What do you guys have for a profile so far?” He looks over at her, frowning. “What? I know you guys have been working while I’ve been reliving my trauma so what’ve you got?”

“White male, when he murdered your family he was probably in his twenties so now we’re guessing mid thirties to early forties. The torture is consistent with a sadist. Killing an entire family is an incredibly high risk crime which suggests he’s a narcissist, but also very organized. He’s able to control four people at once without much difficulty and he’s never left a shred of physical evidence behind except on the daughters. This means he’s arrogant and--” Hotch cuts himself off.

“What?”

“You said you showered before calling 911. Why?”

“I… I told you he left… He left his semen all over me, I was just a kid, I wanted a shower--”

“No.”

“Excuse me?”

“No, that doesn’t make any sense. Yes, you were traumatized, but every kid has it hardwired in their brain that as soon as something bad happens the first thing they do is call 911.”

“Okay, well I didn’t.”

He presses some buttons on the console of the car and then Garcia’s voice is coming through the speaker, “At your service, sir.”

“Garcia, in any of the family murders, was there a rape kit done on any of the daughters?”

“Well, surely there must have been-- Oh. No, no rape kits, not on any of them.”

“Does a police report tell you why?”

“I’m checking… and…” There’s a sigh from Penelope.

“What is it, Garcia?”

“All of them showered before calling 911.”

April is already shaking her head, “No, no that can’t be right.”

“Did any of them report why they showered before calling for help?”

“Most of them, like April, just reported that they felt icky and needed to shower, but the first one, the very first victim Katie Yates, she reported that the unsub made her shower. Like, held her at gunpoint, marched her to the bathroom, and watched. Once he was satisfied with how clean she was, he left while she was still in the shower.”

“That’s not what happened,” April says quietly, her eyes closed.

“Thank you, Garcia.” Hotch says and hangs up the phone before she can respond, “April--”

“No.” She says fiercely, “I’m telling you that’s not what happened.”

“Every other aspect of the crime is controlled and calculated, he wouldn’t make the mistake of leaving DNA all over his victims--”

“I would remember that if he did--”

“No,” Hotch says gently. He had pulled into the police station now, putting the car in park, “No, because you didn’t want to remember. Just that one memory, that one you wanted so badly to believe was your own. That he wasn’t there for the shower. But he was, wasn’t he?”

“Please stop.” She said breathlessly.

“I’m sorry.” He sounds sincere and he puts his hand over hers, “Look at me.” She doesn’t obey immediately so he reaches up to grip her chin and gently turn her face to his. Her eyes are shining and her breathing is uneven, but his eyes are soft and she has the absurd urge to rest her forehead against his. “He can’t hurt you anymore. You’re safe.”

She nods and swallows. “I need you to walk me through exactly what happened after the rape.” He continues. Her lip trembles, but she nods again. “Okay, close your eyes.”

“Hotch--” She whimpers.

“I’m right here. I’ll be here the whole time. You know how this goes. Close your eyes.” She takes a shaky breath and closes her eyes. “Good. He’s on top of you still. He’s just finished. Tell me what you feel, what you hear.”

“Um. I’m crying. I can hear my parents crying. His weight on me is making it hard to breathe.” She starts panicking, her breathing quickens.

“April, focus. He’s not here. You’re safe. What about your hands, what are you touching?”

“The carpet. I’m on the floor in the basement.”

“Can you see your parents?”

“Yes,” She gulps, “But I’m trying not to look at them. It’s humiliating.”

“Okay. Now what is he doing?”

“He… He kisses my neck and whispers in my ear ‘Thank you for the show’ and then he stands up.” Her breathing quickens, “He’s walking to my parents, I don’t want to watch, he’s going to kill them, Hotch--!”

“Okay, okay, come back. Open your eyes. I’m here.” His hands come up to cradle her face. She should be startled by her boss touching her like this, but she’s oddly comforted.

Her breathing finally slows, “I’m tired.” She says softly.

“I know. We’re almost done. Close your eyes again, you can do this.” His hands stay on her face as she closes her eyes again, “Okay. Your parents are dead. What does he do now?”

“Uh, I’m screaming. He’s looking at me and laughing and then he grabs my arm and pulls me up from the floor. I struggle and he puts the gun to my head and says if I don’t calm down he’ll blow out my brains like he did my parents. And then… He walks me up the stairs to the bathroom…” Her breathing becomes rapid again, “I don’t know if I can do this.”

“Yes you can.” Hotch’s voice is low and soothing. He believes in you, she thinks to herself, if he thinks you can do this, you can.

“He turns on the shower. I’m already naked and once I’m in the shower he starts undressing.” Silent tears stream down her cheeks and she’s distantly aware of Hotch gently wiping them away with the pads of his thumbs. “He comes in the shower. He’s touching me. I’m begging him to stop. Oh, God.”

“April, stay there. He’s undressed, he’s taken the mask off, do you recognize him?”

She’s shaking her head, “I can’t… I can’t look.”

“The water’s hitting your skin, his hands are on you--”

“Stop.”

“Look up, April.”

Despite herself, she listens. She’s in that shower, significantly smaller than she is now, and she looks up to see blue eyes looking down at her. Shaggy brown hair nearly covers them, especially now that it’s wet. He has a smirk on his face and crooked front teeth. There’s a tattoo on his right arm of a cross.

“Okay, okay that’s enough, you did it.” Hotch’s voice pulls her back out and she becomes aware of the car that’s still around them and the fact that she’s sobbing. “You’re okay. You’re safe. You did so good.” She falls forward in his arms and after a moment of hesitation he wraps his arms around her, holding her until her breathing settles. It takes him a moment to realize that anyone could look in the SUV and find him in a seemingly compromising position with his subordinate and he pulls away. To his shock, she seems to look disappointed. “You ready to go inside?”

“Yeah.” She says and without another word, she gets out of the car. Hotch can’t deny that he feels like he’s done something wrong as he watches April walk into the station.

When April walks in the station, her whole team cranes their heads to watch her, but she heads straight for the coffee without looking at anyone. Hotch files in soon after.

“Is she okay?” Reid asks, the rest of the team waits for his answer.

“I just gave her a cognitive interview, I’m sure she’s upset.”

“Did you learn anything?” JJ asks.

“Yeah,” Hotch nods, “She remembers what he looks like and she identified a tattoo on his right arm.”

“We should have Garcia run that, see if we can get an ID.” Morgan says.

“Call a sketch artist as well.” Hotch looks up at where April was standing just a few moments ago to see her gone, “Excuse me.”

***

April’s hands shake so hard as she tries to pour the coffee she ends up putting it down in frustration. “Need some help?” She turns to see Billy, standing there smirking at her.

Sighing, she stands back and gestures for him to go ahead. He steps in to pour the coffee, “Pretty elaborate ruse you got going on, staging a break in at your hotel room with that teddy bear.”

She stares at him in disbelief, “You still think I did this?”

“I think,” He says, handing her a cup of coffee, “That you’re impulsive and you went to confront Brandon and you didn’t mean to kill him, but you did and now this is all to cover everything up.”

“Oh,” She scoffs and starts walking away from him, “You are delusional and a dick.”

He follows April into another room and closes the door behind them, “Open the door.” She says when she realizes she’s shut in.

“You and your stupid FBI team are making this whole police force look bad, you need to drop the investigation.”

“The cases cross state lines, we have jurisdiction.”

“Yeah, you would have jurisdiction if there was a real case, but there isn’t. You’re a pathological liar and you can’t even see it. Brandon Perry murdered your family and raped you and just can’t let it go.”

“You’re a sick son of a bitch,” She walks around him to the door, but he turns quickly and places his palm against the door, slamming it shut again. “Let me out.” She says slowly.

“I’ll let you out when you promise me that you’re going to march out there and tell them that you’ve been lying this whole time and then march your pretty ass back to D.C.”

“Or what?”

“Or I’ll arrest you for the murder of Brandon Perry.”

“You have no evidence.”

“Oh, April, April, April. I know you know what a coerced confession is here. And I also know that you know a jury of your peers here in Maine would send you to prison for less.”

There’s a sharp knock on the door and Billy finally steps away. When she opens it, Hotch is on the other side, “Everything okay in here?”

“Just fine, Agent Hotchner. Isn’t that right April?” Billy says and grabs a strand of her hair, twirling it around his finger and tugging, exactly like he used to when he sat behind her in middle school.

April slaps her hand on his wrist and twists his arm around until he yells. “You lay a hand on me or threaten me again, I will make sure you don’t have a career here anymore. Understood?”

“You can’t--” He starts, but she twists his arm further.

“Am I clear?” She says again.

“Alright, fine!”

She shoves him away and he stumbles, nearly falling to the floor as April storms out, Hotch still standing in the doorway, watching Billy.

“I told you,” Billy says, pushing himself to standing, “She’s a crazy bitch.”

“Detective, let me make myself very clear. If you continue to harass my agent or impede on this investigation in any way, not only will I make sure you never have a career in law enforcement again, I will arrest you for obstructing a federal investigation.”

Billy shakes his head, “She’s got you all wrapped around her finger.”

“And I think your boss has you wrapped around his finger. He’s the one who arrested Brandon Perry. Seems like he would have a lot more to lose if he was wrong than you would.”

“He wasn’t wrong.”

“Then let us conduct the investigation. If it leads back to Brandon Perry, then so be it.”

“You really think she’d accept that?”

“If the evidence led us there, she would. Now stay out of our investigation if you value your job.” Hotch leaves without giving him time to respond and then tries to find April.

“Are you alright?” He asks when he finds her. She’s sitting alone at a conference table.

“I’m fine, Billy’s just an asshole.”

“There’s more to your relationship than you told me to begin with.”

She frowns, “What are you talking about?”

“You said you came up here to visit a friend. Who were you visiting?”

“I’m tired of being interrogated--”

“The reason Billy is so sure you killed Brandon Perry is because you were with him that night and then you left suddenly, isn’t it?”

April sighs and looks down at the table, “Hotch, I appreciate everything you’re doing to help, but who I was with and what I was doing that night doesn’t change the fact that I didn’t kill Brandon so please just drop it.”

He shakes his head and he looks almost frustrated with April, but that doesn’t make any sense. Why would he care so much about her relationship with Billy? “I don’t understand why you would waste your time on a cop like that, look at what a mess it put you in.”

She frowns, “With all due respect, sir, it’s really not your business who I’m sleeping with.”

“Why did you leave that night if you didn’t kill Brandon?”

She scoffs, “I can’t believe this.”

“Answer the question.”

She was angry with him. Practically bursting at the seams with rage. Just like every other man, thinking he’s entitled to everything about her. They all disappointed her in the end. “Billy and I had a fight and I wanted to be alone.”

“What was the fight about?”

“He wanted to be an official couple again. I didn’t.”

“Why not?”

She tilts her head to the side, “Just because I’m a good fuck doesn’t mean he gets to claim me. Like you said, he’s just a stupid cop and I could do better. Now will you leave me alone?”

April recognized that look in his eyes: He was jealous. Aaron Hotchner was jealous that she had a sexual relationship with another man. And suddenly her anger evaporated and was replaced by desire. She supposed she did always have a thing for older men which she was sure a profiler would say had to do with her dead dad. Either way, she sent a smoldering glare his way until he left her alone.

When he left, she rested her head on the table in exhaustion and didn’t notice Emily had approached until she heard the seat in front of her being pulled out. She raises her head and manages a smile, “Hi.”

“How are you doing?” She asks.

“Better now that you’re here, I’m tired of all the men around here.”

She laughs, “Good. Well, the sketch artist is here and I’m sad to report that he is a man.” April groans. “But, I will stay with you if you want and then I think we’re all going to work through the night, but Hotch was talking about bringing you back to the hotel to get some rest. It sounds like you had a rough day.”

“Yeah,” She sighs, “Cognitive interviews are the worst.”

As promised, Emily sits with her while she talks to the sketch artist and Hotch walks over not long after. When it’s finished, Emily gives your hand a squeeze and leaves with the sketch to pin to the evidence board.

“You should get some rest, I’ll take you back to the hotel now.” Hotch says, hands in his pockets. It was intriguing to her that he could act like he didn’t just ask about her sex life only an hour ago.

“I can’t sleep in that room again.”

“You can sleep in mine. I’ll sleep on the floor,” He adds quickly upon seeing the look on her face.

She sighs, “You don’t have to sleep on the floor, just don’t touch me.”

“Won’t be a problem.” And with the indifference in his tone, she thought maybe she had actually imagined everything earlier.

“Great.” She murmurs and gets up to walk out first.

Hotch stays behind for a moment, pinching the bridge of his nose and Rossi comes up behind him, “You picked a terrible time to start giving her hints about the way you feel, Aaron.”

“We’re trying to solve a case about her family’s murder and all I can think about is how pissed off it makes me to know that she’s been sleeping with someone else.”

“You’re human.”

Hotch just shakes his head and walks away.

***

“Daddy driving you home?”

The voice behind April makes her jump, her hand flying automatically to her gun.

“Woah, it’s just me April.” Billy laughs, leaning up against the station building, “You really are on edge, lately, huh? A sign of guilt or genuine fear?”

She could strangle him right here, she thinks. But instead, she reigns in her temper and leans against the wall next to him, “What about your daddy, huh? Haven’t seen him here all day. Is he too busy making wrongful arrests?”

Billy scoffs, “Yeah, and how’s your stupid little profile going? Did you find the real killer yet?”

She sighs, “You cops are all the same, think your old fashioned police work is better than profiling.”

Billy looks like he’s about to respond, but Hotch walks through the door just then, “There’s daddy, you better hurry up and get in the car like a good girl.”

Hotch barely registers what Billy’s said before April launches herself at him, fists flying. He immediately reacts, grabbing her arms, “Hunter, hey, hey! That’s enough! Get in the car.” He says sternly.

She shakes him off, but walks to the car all the same.

“Fucking bitch.” Billy mutters, drawing Hotch’s attention back to him.

“Detective, I thought I made myself clear that you were to stay away from my agent and out of my case.”

Billy steps up, eye to eye with Hotch, “This is my station, agent. Back off.”

Hotch stares him down for a few more moments, “The superintendent will be hearing from me tomorrow, at the very least you’ll be getting suspended. Maybe now’s a good time for you to clean out your desk.” And then he turns and walks back to the SUV, ignoring Billy’s curses behind him.

Once Hotch is in the SUV and starts driving away, he starts talking to April, “When you’re out in the field you represent me, you represent the team, and the whole bureau. You can’t just--”

“I don’t need a lecture right now.”

He’s surprised to hear tears in her voice and it softens him immediately, “April, I’m sorry I’ve been so hard on you today.”

“You’ve only done what you need to do to solve the case, you shouldn’t apologize.”

“No, no, I… I shouldn’t have questioned you about Billy earlier. You were right, it’s none of my business.”

“It’s fine.” She says. First indifference, now an apology. Maybe she really had imagined everything. “I just want to sleep.”

***

Hotch works for a while by the light of the lamp when you get into bed, poring over the case files again and again, trying to figure out if they had missed anything. He’s pretty sure April is actually sleeping and once he’s sure he can’t get any more work done, he turns off the lamp and gets ready for bed.

He slips in the bed as quietly as possible, hoping not to wake her, but there’s the smallest moan that escapes her lips when the mattress shifts. A moment later, she turns over, still in sleep and slings her arm over his chest, sighing contentedly as she rests her head on his chest. Hotch freezes, unsure of how to react before slowly wrapping his arms around her in return. Her shampoo smells like peaches and vanilla and he breathes it in deeply knowing in the morning she’ll pretend this never happened.

***

When April wakes up and finds herself in Hotch’s arms, legs tangled under the sheets, she does her best not to panic. With the way they were positioned, it was clear she had initiated this which was all the more embarrassing. Lucky for her though, she doesn’t have to figure out her next move because his phone rings. She pretends to be asleep as he slowly comes to wakefulness and reaches for his phone.

“Hotchner.” His voice is husky from sleep and it sends a thrill through her and she imagines for a moment what it would be like if Aaron Hotchner was hers. Then she hears Billy’s voice in her head calling him her daddy and the moment sours.

“Okay.” He says after a few moments, “We’ll be there as soon as we can.”

He ends the call and sets the phone back on the nightstand, but to her surprise, he doesn’t immediately wake her. “Are you awake?” He whispers after a few moments and she tries not to balk.

“Mmm.” Is all she manages and she keeps her eyes closed, not sure she can meet his eyes like this.

“They’ve, um… Another family was killed last night.” He tries to say it as gently as possible, but she shoots up in bed anyway, “The daughter was killed as well this time.”

She’s shaking her head, “No… No, that can’t be. She has to… She can’t be dead.”

“It’s probably a message to you.” Hotch says calmly.

She scoffs, “That’s great. A whole family’s dead because of me.”

“This isn’t your fault.”

“Oh, like hell it isn’t.” She says, climbing out of bed and pulling on her jeans. She doesn’t fully realize who she’s getting dressed in front of until Hotch tries to subtly avert his eyes. “I should’ve solved this case years ago. I’ve known it was serial for a while. I could have saved them.”

“You know as well as I do that thinking like that isn’t helpful for anyone.” He says, following her lead and getting dressed in front of her. The fact that they’re both acting like nothing out of the ordinary has taken place between them makes everything somehow even more intimate.

She sighs, “Let’s just get over there.” And she walks into the bathroom to brush her teeth.

***

April can feel the bile rising in her throat as her team mills around the crime scene. She’s crouched next to the girl, Layla, whose throat had been slit. She had also been stabbed too many times to be counted by the naked eye. Her eyes stared blankly ahead, but April could see the fear there. He had left her here, in front of her parents’ bodies, naked. “He went through the entire ritual, even the shower, then brought her back down here and killed her.”

“He’s always been very controlled and organized, but this last kill is full of rage.” Prentiss notices.

April frowns as she looks at Layla’s throat and notices that it almost seems to be bulging, “I think there’s something in her throat.” She pulls on her latex gloves while everyone crowds around her and then gently prys the girl’s jaw open. Reaching in, her fingers brush what feels like crumpled paper at the back of her throat and April pulls it out. Heart racing, she smooths it open.

Welcome home, April. I’d like to see the woman I’ve created. Arrive alone at the place where we first met, 20:00.

Everyone was silent as April read the note over and over after reading it aloud the first time. The word “alone” had been underlined several times. There was no threat attached to it, but April knew it was one all the same.

“We’ll have to call SWAT and let them know, we’ll also have to prepare the local police--”

“No.” April cut off Hotch, “You can’t be serious, he said to come alone.”

“April, his end game is clearly to kill you, if you go there by yourself you won’t come back out. And I already told you you’re not allowed to handle the arrest.”

“This is our one shot to get him,” Her eyes water, “This family died because of me--”

“Hunter--”

“Stop.” The tears fall down her cheeks and he wants to brush them away like he had the day before. “I won’t let this happen again, I’m going to see him by myself.”

“At least go in with a wire, we’ll stay a safe distance away.” Morgan bargained.

She shifts her attention to Morgan, to her team who are all looking at her sadly. Concern dripping heavy from their limbs. “No SWAT.” She insists, “Just this team.”

Hotch sighs and rubs a hand over his face, “You’re sure you can handle this?”

She wasn’t, but she nods anyway.

“Fine.” Is all he says before walking away.

***

Aaron is conscious of her eyes on him as he helps her put the wire on, “You steer the conversation away from yourself when you’re in there. Don’t let your guard down for a second. He’s going to try to get in your head, blame you for what he’s done. Don’t let him, just feed his ego and then call us when you’ve got him. Okay?”

“Yeah.” She says quietly.

He finishes putting the wire on and leans away from her in the surveillance van, “I can go in with you.” He says, giving it one last shot.

“No.”

He nods resolutely, “Promise me you’ll walk out of there alive.” She avoids meeting his eyes, “April.”

Finally she locks her eyes to his, “I’m scared.” She says, and her voice shakes.

It’s the first time he’s heard her admit it. He’d known she felt it, but she’d never admitted it. “Listen to me.” He says firmly, “You are not the twelve year old girl he knew. You’re stronger than him. You can do this.”

She takes a deep breath and nods, moving around him to exit the van.

“Be careful.” He says one last time and he thinks maybe she’s aware of just how worried he is about her, his eyes full of concern.

She gives him a small smile before turning away and walking down the street, rounding the last block to her childhood home, the house she hadn’t entered again since the murders. The town was small and since everyone knew what had happened there, it had never been sold.

April stands just outside the house for a minute, hand hovering just above her gun, trying to get both hands to stop shaking. Hotch believes in you. She reminds herself, recalling his words in the van. She can do this.

She’d been avoiding thinking about all his touches in the last few days. The way his rough, callused fingers felt so gentle on her face when she cried. The way he’d wrapped his arms around her in sleep, almost protectively. The way when he woke to answer his phone this morning he had absently stroked her shoulder. Did they mean anything to him or was he just an overworked, touch starved man, desperate for any sort of attention, even from her.

Shaking the thoughts from her head, she headed for the door, raising her gun as she approached. The door was already slightly ajar and she pushed it lightly with the pads of her fingers. Carefully, she cleared each room, heart ricocheting against her rib cage, though she already knew where he’d be waiting for her.

After they had found the last family, Garcia had been able to ID the killer based on the sketch and the tattoo as Allen Grey. He had the usual tough past, abusive father and mother, grew up in poverty. His parents died when he was still young and his older sister was left to take care of him, and she then continued the cycle of abuse, escalating to sexual assault. It explained the mercy for the young boys and torture of the eldest daughters, but April couldn’t bring herself to feel sympathy for him.

She stood at the top of the basement stairs, could already see the lights on down there and could hear Madonna’s Like a Virgin playing on vinyl. April hated the way her body reacted, the way everything in her was telling her to run. She was a federal agent for Christ’s sake, she took down killers like this one all the time. He was no different, she tried to assure herself, he was just like the rest. And then she steeled herself, brought her gun back up in front of her at eye level, and began descending the stairs.

“There you are! Welcome home, April!��� Allen says cheerfully as you point the gun at him, “Now, now, come on, I don’t have a weapon,” He raises his hands, “Why don’t you holster that gun, Agent Hunter.” He had an arrogant smirk on his face.

Tears stung the corners of her eyes and her finger flexed on and off the trigger, wanting so bad to just pull it and be done with it. But she knew her team was listening and this was exactly why Hotch hadn’t wanted her in the field for this. She lowered her weapon and put it back in her holster.

“That’s better. Why don’t you have a seat?” He gestured to the worn out table and chairs, “Let’s have a drink. Talk.”

She swallowed thickly, “No thank you.” She managed.

“No, come on now, April. We have to catch up!”

“Why did you bring me here?”

He smiles at her again and comes closer to her. Slowly, he pulls a knife out of his pocket and brings it up for her to see. She balks, but he quickly grabs her from the back of her neck to keep her steady and runs the knife gently over her face. “You were always so clever, April.” She keeps eye contact with him, doing her best not to show any fear. “So pretty and smart. I only followed you, after, you know? You were… number two, I believe. I chased the high I got with you with everyone after, but none of them were the same.”

“Is that why you stopped for a while after the fourth family?”

He nods, “Like I said, you were always so smart. And then I saw how you became obsessed with people like me, went to college to study criminal justice, always thinking about me. Joined the FBI because you were so obsessed with me, weren’t you, little April?”

She wanted to spit in his face, but she remembered what Hotch said about feeding into his ego, “They say you never forget your first.” She says cooly, almost seductively.

It works, an arrogant smile twists its way up his face and he pockets the knife. “All I ever wanted was to find you,” She says, slipping into character, “See those blue eyes again. I dream about them every night.” None of these statements are lies, but the tone she takes when delivering them, the sweetness she adds to it, the act she puts on makes bile rise in her own throat.

“I knew it.” He says, looking at her with newfound desire, “We’re soulmates, you know?” His words are gentle, but he grips her by the hair again and pulls, exposing her neck. “Let’s run away together, baby.”

“Okay.” She says softly, “I’m ready.”

Hotch is already ordering the team to go in, jumping out of the back of the van with Morgan. Through his earpiece, he listens closely to you. He can hear your fear in the way you’re breathing, but he’s not sure Allen is picking it up from you.

When she agrees to go with him, he spins her and shoves her against a wall, her head painfully bouncing off the cement. He laughs as she winces and then leans in to kiss her throat, “Are you going to tell your team to leave us alone?” He reaches under her shirt where the wire is and yanks it off her. “April, April, April. My clever, clever girl. You had to know I would have expected you not to come by yourself.”

He pushes himself off her and walks to the table, reaching under it and pulling out a gun that he had taped there earlier.

April’s jaw tenses as he raises the gun to point it at her head, “You won’t kill me.” She says smoothly, though she’s not sure she believes it herself.

“No,” He cocks the gun and turns slightly to aim towards the doorway, “But if Aaron Hotchner walks through that doorway I’ll kill him.”

She does her best to betray nothing, but a muscle in her jaw jumps involuntarily and he narrows his eyes at her, “Yeah, I thought you liked him.”

“I care about everyone on my team.” She says stiffly.

He shakes his head, “No. Don’t forget April, I’ve been watching you. I know your weaknesses as I’m sure you know mine and the past few days here I’ve noticed the way you look at Agent Hotchner when you think he’s not looking. But he always notices because he’s always aware of you, even when he tries his hardest not to be. So, April, I’ll give you one chance,” He hands the wire back over to her, “Tell Aaron to back off.”

Reluctantly, she takes the wire from him. “Hotch,” She breathes, “Stand down.”

Hotch holds a hand up to the team on the outside, signaling them to stand down, though he can barely hear past the roaring in his ears.

“There,” Her voice comes in his earpiece again, “Are you happy now?”

“I’ll be happy when he hears me kill you and knows there’s nothing he can do to stop it.”

“I thought we were running away together.”

“You think I can’t tell when you’re playing me?”

“No, I know you can’t tell when I’m playing you.” Something in April had unlocked when Allen threatened Hotch. Threatened her team. And she knew Hotch could hear them and though she had told him to stand down, he was trying to figure out another way to get to her. He wouldn’t stop until she was out of there, whether it ended with both her and Allen in body bags or Allen in cuffs. But she wouldn’t let it come to that.

“Since you’ve been watching me my whole life, you know the entire town thought I killed my own family and that I lied about the whole thing. Do you know why they thought that? Because they saw in me what my team sees in people like you.” She walks up to him, and though every instinct screams to run, she instead places a hand on his chest, “That night… you made me into you. So no, Allen,” It’s the first time she uses his name and she relishes the shock that lights in his eyes, “You can’t tell when I’m playing you.” Capitalizing on his surprise, she disarms him the way Morgan has drilled into her over and over, quickly slamming his wrist into the nearest surface and catching the gun when he releases his grip. Faster, she takes a step back from him and draws her gun as well, now pointing two weapons at him, “And I think you’ve overplayed your hand, babe.”

He raises his hands and now there’s genuine fear in his eyes, “April--”

“I’d like you to very slowly remove the knife from your pocket and toss it to the floor and if you even think about launching it at me, just know that I am a very good shot and I have been dreaming about killing you every day since I was twelve, don’t tempt me.” Her voice shakes, but this time not from fear, but from anger that she’d harbored close to her chest since the man who stood in front of her stole everything from her.

As Allen slowly does as he’s told, April hears footsteps on the stairs and is relieved when she spots another gun trained on Allen in her peripheral. Morgan begins to walk to Allen, but April stops him, “No.” She says, “I want to do it.”

He nods and redraws his gun, backing away. She holsters her own weapon and hands Allen’s gun back to Hotch without looking at him. Drawing cuffs from her pocket, she walks behind Allen who has managed to get a smirk back on his face. The sight breaks something in her and she roughly shoves him against the wall, feeling satisfaction at his grunt of pain when his face collides with the cement. She tightens the cuffs a bit more than necessary and begins stating his rights to him as she marches him up the stairs.

“I’m going to be a legend, you know? They’ll make all these dateline documentaries about me and the families I’ve killed.” He’s smiling still as April shoves him in the backseat of Billy’s police car. She’s trying not to think about the fact that he showed up here.

“Prisoners don’t look too fondly on those among them who kill and rape children, Allen, and I’m going to make sure that whatever cell block you rot in knows exactly what you’ve done. Have a nice life.” And she slams the car door.

Billy’s watching her as she does so, “I’m sorry.” He says simply.

April sighs, “I don’t care.” She says without looking at him and then walks away.

Hotch is watching her, arms crossed and frowning deeply. She stops in front of him, tilting her head to the side and noticing the concern written all over his face as he sizes her up, “Thank you for backing off when I asked you to. I know that was hard for you.”

He simply pushes himself off the car that he was leaning against and pulls her to his chest. She feels surprised for a moment, but then wraps her arms around his waist in return, breathing him in, focusing on his touch rather than Allen’s. And when the sobs begin to wrack her body, he just holds her tighter. He knows the rest of the team is watching and maybe he’ll have to explain this later, the way he rests his head on top of hers to reassure himself as much as her, but he doesn’t much care. He’d been fairly certain she was going to die in there and he’d never have the chance to tell her how he really felt.

Hotch drives back to the hotel with her sleeping in the passenger seat. The medics had checked her out and concluded that she didn’t really have any injuries, but his heart had nearly shattered in his chest when April asked if there was any way they could refill her sleeping medication. They had been unable to, but decided to give her a few doses of ambien anyway, to last her until she could call her prescriber back in DC.

“You can take as much time off as you need when we get back.” He had said as they climbed in the SUV, his too big FBI jacket wrapped tightly around her shoulders as she immediately popped the ambien in her mouth.

“I don’t need to take time off.” Was all she said before she curled herself in a tiny ball, facing the car door, and fell asleep only minutes later.

Now, he pulled into the hotel parking lot, rain falling gently against the windows and debated whether he should wake her. “April.” He said softly, gently shaking her shoulder.

“Mmm.” She murmurs and her eyes flutter. Still straddling the line between sleep and wakefulness, seeing Hotch’s face above hers prompts a small smile. “Aaron.” She says softly and reaches her hand up to touch his face.

Hearing her use his first name so tenderly sends a jolt through him, but he reminds himself that she’s sedated, albeit lightly, from the ambien. “Do you think you can walk up to the hotel room?”

She nods sleepily and he quickly gets out of the car to help her out of the other side, pulling the hood of his jacket over her head to shield her from the rain. She walks slowly because of the drug, but he doesn’t mind. And when she slides her hand down to his to intertwine their fingers, he doesn’t mind that either. When they get to the hotel room she wordlessly strips down to her underwear and climbs into bed.

He stares at her for a while, unsure if she would want him in the bed or not, and decides it’ll be safest to sleep on the couch. He begins taking some cushions off the couch when he hears her voice, “Aaron?” There was his name again. He wasn’t sure why hearing her say it had him coming undone, but he wanted her to repeat it over and over again.

“Yes?”

“Why won’t you come to bed?”

He opens and closes his mouth a couple times before responding, “I was going to sleep on the couch.” She’s quiet for too long and he thinks she must’ve fallen asleep so he turns back to the couch.

“I don’t want to sleep alone.” Her voice is so quiet, he wonders if he imagined it. But when he turns back to the bed, she’s watching him, eyes full of sadness and what he thinks might also be desire. He can’t say no to her. She continues watching him as he takes off his clothes, first unbuttoning his shirt. She watches him carefully, no traces of shyness and he tries his best not to let on the way her attention affects him. He undoes his belt buckle and then pulls off his pants before walking to the bed, pushing the sheets aside, and climbing in.

She turns to him and brings their faces close enough that just another inch would have them rubbing noses together. “Why have you been so nice to me this whole case?”

It’s not what he was expecting her to say and he frowns, “It was a tough case for you that brought back a lot of trauma, why wouldn’t I be nice to you?”

She shrugs, “I know you’ve never liked me the way you like the rest of the team--”

“That’s not true--”

“Aaron.” He wonders if maybe she’s caught on to the way saying his name affects him as his mouth closes immediately, “I’m not stupid, I haven’t been here nearly as long as the others and I certainly never open myself up in front of them the way the rest of you do. It’s not anyone’s fault, I’m just… Not a part of the family. But this case… You treated me the way you would treat Reid, JJ, Morgan, Prentiss… Any of them. Why?”

“The second you join this team you’re a part of this family and I’m sorry we made you feel otherwise.”

She rolls her eyes and turns her head to look at the ceiling, “Would you have shared a bed with any of them?”

Heat floods his face and he’s glad she’s not looking at him. “No.” He says and he’s sure his voice, thick with desire has betrayed him.

But April only nods, still staring at the ceiling, “Is it just because you’re lonely?”

It’s then that he realizes what she’s getting at. He hears the vulnerability in her voice, the fear there. She thinks she’s not good enough for him and it breaks his heart even further. “April, look at me.” She manages to turn her head to him and her eyes are glassy. “You have shown the last few days how incredibly resilient, intelligent, and just amazing you are. You can’t really think that the only reason I keep reaching for you is because I’m lonely.”

She smiles sadly, “You wouldn’t be the first.”

A lesser man would’ve taken this personally, perhaps groan about how she could think so little of him, but Aaron was different. He understood what she’d been through, that he could have been Superman himself and she’d still have her doubts.

“Then I suppose I’ll have to prove it to you.”

She turns her head back to him and frowns, a trace of amusement on her face, “And how do you plan on doing that?”

Hesitantly, he reaches out and strokes a thumb across her cheek, “I’d like to start by just holding you tonight, if that’s alright.”

She closes her eyes at his touch, nuzzling her face further into his palm and he melts. “I’d like that.” She says softly.

So he gently wraps an arm around her waist and pulls her to him. Her little sigh of contentment as she settles against his chest is almost too much for him to take. “Aaron?” She says after he's spent a few moments just listening to her heartbeat.

“Hm?”

“You’re the only man I’ve ever felt truly safe around.”

He feels her sadness then and he tightens his grip around her to convey that he’s sorry she feels that way, but he’s grateful for her trust. They fall asleep like that and neither attempt to move away from the other the entire night.

***

“So this is a date.” It had been about two months since they had gotten back from Maine and Aaron had been nothing but a gentleman to her. So much so, in fact, that at some points she thought he was no longer interested in her.

He chuckles, “It’s not a date. We’re meeting the team.”

“Yes, but you’re taking me,” April grins, linking her arm through his as they walk towards the bar, “So it’s a date.”

“If it was a date I would’ve done this--” Hotch spins her in front of him and abruptly kisses her. At first, she freezes, but when he gently nips at her bottom lip she moans slightly, kissing him back. As sudden as it began, it ends and Aaron is staring at her with a look of such arrogant satisfaction she wants to slap him.

“Okay, so it is a date.” She murmurs quietly as Aaron steps around her and walks away, “I knew it.”

When Aaron opens the door to the bar for her, he casually slips his hand in hers, intertwining their fingers. He notes her questioning look from the corner of his eye, but just squeezes her hand in response. And instead of detaching herself from him when the team notes their arrival, she squeezes his hand in return, even when the relentless teasing from the team commences.

Aaron only slips away from her to go get them drinks and even then she looks back for him. It’s the most unsure of herself he’s ever seen her and it only broadens his grin.

“You finally did it, eh? Attaboy, Aaron.” Rossi’s already at the bar, a whiskey in hand and another on the bar that he slides to Aaron. He takes it and then orders April a gin and tonic.

“It’s just one date, Rossi. She’s still… hesitant.”

“She doesn’t look hesitant,” Rossi says, looking over his shoulder, “She hasn’t taken her eyes off you since you walked away from her.”

Aaron smirks, “Yes, well, I’ve discovered playing hard to get is very effective with her.” He tips the bartender and clinks his glass with Rossi before walking back over to April. When he hands her the drink, she seems to shrink into his side, taking larger gulps of her drink than he thought she should.

“Slow down,” He plucks the drink from her hand and places it on a nearby table, “Why are you so nervous?”

“Look at all of them just staring at us, I feel pressured.”

“Pressured into what, being with me?”

“Aaron, no,” She places a hand on his arm, sensing the insecurity rising in him, “I want to be with you.”

“Then what?”

She shrugs and reaches for her drink again, but Aaron covers her hand before she can, clearly expecting an answer from her. She sighs and looks up at him, “I feel pressure to be perfect because I can see on their faces how much they love you and I don’t want to fuck this up and then you all hate me because I wasn’t good enough for you.” It all comes out in a rush and she feels breathless after admitting it, her cheeks reddening as he lifts his hand, allowing her to reach for her drink.

“April, they like you just as much as they like me.” She rolls her eyes and he reaches out to tip her chin up gently with his fingers, “You could never mess this up.”

“I messed it up with Billy.”

He drops his hand, unable to hide the annoyance and jealousy on his face at the mention of Billy, “Billy was an immature boy who didn’t know how to treat you anyway.”

She smirks, “And you’re a big strong man who can sweep me off my feet at a moment’s notice?” He manages the smallest of smiles as a slow song starts playing, “Come on, Hotchner. Ask me to dance.”

“You want to dance in front of the team?”

“Well you brought me here to show me off, didn’t you?” He gives her a look like he’s offended she would even think so and she laughs, “Please?” She pouts, “Billy would dance with me if he were here.” She adds teasingly, her eyes glittering with mischief.

Hotch shakes his head at her, but he’s grinning, “You love causing trouble, don’t you?” And she laughs in response as he takes her hand and pulls her to the dance floor, letting his left hand rest gently on the small of her back, his other hand holding hers.

He twirls her around the room and with the whole team watching, he kisses her as the song ends. Their lips worked together to teach each other their own dance and for a moment, it’s just the two of them, until the rest of the team starts jeering and April pulls away, her face flushed. Aaron is still looking at her, smiling and she reaches up with her thumb to swipe at his mouth, “I got some lipstick on you.” She says quietly.

“Can I take you home?” He says finally and his voice is husky and full of want.

She wonders if he’s aware of how alluring the sound of his voice is. “Yeah.” She responds swallowing.

He leads her out of the bar after much protesting from the rest of the team, but all he wants and needs is to get April, April who’s smiling at him from ear to ear, home and in bed with him. They settle into their new relationship with ease, the team noting that they’d never seen either of them smile so much and all of April’s fears and insecurities melted away day by day.

As long as her unit chief quietly placed a coffee on her desk every morning with a sweet note attached to it, she figured she could overcome anything.

[bigskydreaming]

If you were editor of Nightwing's book ever since at least the start of Rebirth to today and you were given free reign, what would your story mandates?

Oh no, this is dangerous. LOL. Hmm, I have no idea what to shoot for here, so I'll try to keep it to ten. That's reasonable right? Ten is good. Yeah. Is fine.

Okay, so, in no particular order:

1) Let Dick be competent 101. None of this him having to play hype man for every other character to pop up in HIS title bullshit. Nope. That's not what they're there for. He's the lead man, LET HIM BE THE LEADING MAN. Like sure, everyone has their areas of expertise, he doesn't need or have to be the best at everything, blah blah blah.....but its about the nuance. All of that is kinda lip service because the thing is, you don't go into MOST comic books and NEED to be reminded of that because the lead characters of those books are all constantly getting saved or shown up or chastised by every guest star in their books, you know? This is a very weird, very niche phenomenon very specific to Dick's character, and I'm super over it. I'm here to read about the guy who has literally been doing this longer than most superheroes twice his age. The guy who's been doing this since before he hit double digits. The born acrobat. The destined ultimate warrior or whatever of Gotham's Ornithological Society Of Murder and Pretentiousness. Gimme that guy. And that guy doesn't need to be 'humbled' every other page, because the thing is, he's not some egomaniac to begin with so the everpresent need to humble him doesn't actually come off as humbling! It just comes off as pandering and not even to actual fans of the actual character, so its like.....wyd DC.

2) Let other people take responsibility for their own crap with Dick rather than always just expecting a mea culpa from him. I'm so unbelievably tired of the words I'm sorry from Dick. I love personal accountability, so I never thought I'd have to say this about a character, but enoooooough. They have made it completely in character for this dude to apologize to everyone ELSE for being brainwashed, getting amnesia, being KILLED, like.....the amount of things he's groveled for forgiveness for when he didn't actually do a damn thing wrong or worse yet, was the ACTUAL victim of is like....pretty damn staggering. And meanwhile, there's nary a peep of apology from the people who regularly insult or belittle him, get physically violent with him, take advantage of him or take him for granted, etc, etc, etc. Its entirely too one-sided and imbalanced, and the pendulum needs to swing the other direction, like YESTERDAY, and in a fairly big way, IMO.

3) None of this Baby's First Social Justice Awakening 101 crap. I'm sorry, but no. Especially not when you go out of your way to acknowledge that Dick is Romani, only to then turn around and act like he's only JUST had his eyes opened to an awareness of like, classism and poverty and the real struggles people face day to day? Sorry not sorry, but especially for other white writers out there, do not use people of color as self-inserts for dipping a toe into Learning To See Past Privilege. And especially when talking about a character who has a history of being actively abused and hurt by the system and institutions of power, or hell, even leaving out that particular origin story, who has still been out on the streets helping people since he was a literal child. You can not tell me that this is his first face to face experience with social issues, or the first time he's had the inclination to try and address those head on. (And its also particularly egregious that the people second-guessing Dick in his own title and giving him reality checks or acting like they have more of an awareness of all this than he does like, happen to all be white? OPTICS. LEARN ABOUT THEM. COMMON SENSE. GET SOME.)

Know what would actually be a better way to approach this? Flashbacks. Show us Dick running into situations that make him think back to a case when he was still Robin, when he and Batman had started fighting over their approaches to things, actually SHOW us those conflicts and how their viewpoints had started diverging, and how much of that was due to Dick not having the same experiences as Bruce, or the same standing in society, no matter what house he lived in. THEN you can jump BACK to the present, with the reminder/awareness that this is something that isn't NEWS to Dick, but that he in the past felt he was forced to make his peace with as something he wasn't in a position to do that much about....only NOW, he's in a very DIFFERENT position, and suddenly it just hits him how he's still acting like he did when he was limited in resources or in having to be part of a chain in command or having to factor other responsibilities into things....now he ACTUALLY has the power and the resources to make meaningful change in the ways he ALWAYS wanted to, but maybe just needed time to figure out HOW.

Like you know what would have made Shawn Tsang's story arc so much better? If Dick didn't just remember her as the Pigeon's one time teenage sidekick he'd briefly fought as a kid, but like.....if he remembered her as someone he and Bruce had FOUGHT about. Because he didn't agree with sending someone to juvie for defacing public property as a form of political protest, when it was someone's LIFE who was going to be irrevocably damaged by that while the damage to the city could be fixed with a check, and what made Dick any more deserving of Bruce's leniency and faith in his potential or underlying goodness than Shawn?

But he was still a kid himself back then, and when Bruce responded with his usual conviction, talking about the importance about rule of law and etc etc, Dick just didn't have the words to get through to him then, to get him to understand that this wasn't just Dick not getting it because he was too young, it was BRUCE not getting it, that Dick was literally just saying well he wasn't too young to have been in juvie himself, and of the two of them, he's the one who has experience there so why was Bruce's opinion on whether this was the punishment that fit the crime the one that got to hold more weight here? When Dick's the one who knows what that punishment actually LOOKS like beyond the abstract, for whom it was a reality that still haunts him in ways that even defacing a few statues of some rich old fucks doesn't deserve?

Or hell, go back FURTHER than when he was Robin. Idk where any of those posts are, but I've always wanted to see something where Dick maybe runs into someone he remembers from his time in juvie, maybe a guard who is like, the source of the reasons Dick mistrusts figures of authority and is so hung up on independence and not being under anyone's thumb, or maybe someone who was in there with him, another kid who looked out for him when he didn't have to, etc. Gimme Dick tackling head-on his firsthand awareness that there's no rehabilitation to be found in a jail for kids, when most of those kids don't even need rehabilitation in the first place and only did what they did in order to survive or escape from worse situations or like, were there purely because of racist cops, etc. Let him go after THAT system, driven by personal experiences and memories that maybe only hit him in full after recovering his memories from the Ric Grayson arc, like they're things that he put in a box in his mind a long, long time ago because he didn't have the spoons or reserves to deal with them when he was a kid still so traumatized in so many ways, like, something had to give and so he put all those memories away for another day and just....never got back to them because life kept hitting him with new and fresh trauma every week.

But now something has him thinking back to those early days in Gotham, and reminding him that not everyone had a Bruce Wayne willing and able to give them an out from that place or acrobatic skills to escape it on their own, and like. You want to do something about the cycles of violence in Gotham and Bludhaven? Why not start with the places that literally MANUFACTURE cruelty on an institutional level, that teach kids that no matter what they did to get put there, even if that was nothing at all, they're all going to be treated the same way and given no reason NOT to do whatever it took to be top dog in a dog eat dog world by the time they got out.

There's SO many better approaches to social awareness in the Batbooks than what we're seeing, and like. Sheesh. The bar is way too low.

4) On a related note, if I'm editor of the Nightwing book, the FIRST thing I'm doing is making it a priority to find a writer of color for that book, ideally someone of Rom descent. Its waaaaay past time to let a Romani writer take the reins on Dick, Wanda, Pietro or Doom, aka some of the only prominent Romani characters out there? You can't tell me that there aren't talented writers who identify as Roma who would be more than willing to add their perspective to Dick's archive of narratives, and if an editor's gotta go looking for them? Go fucking look. DC and its fans have milked a lot of mileage out of the idea of Dick being Romani with very little in the way of nuanced storytelling to show for it in the past twenty years, and if DC wants to trot out little reminders that Dick is Romani every couple years, like in the form of a freaking line that has no follow up or expansion to any degree and is offset by an internal monologue that otherwise reads as incredibly privileged, the least they can do is TRY to expand on that with the narrative perspective of someone they claim to be representing via that character.

And no, this isn't gatekeeping, this is prioritizing. Its not about preventing other writers from writing this character, like just for the hell of it, its about being proactive about finding a writer who can write specific aspects of this character that have long gone unaddressed or poorly represented. And like. Okay. Its not easy breaking into the comics industry for anyone, but its particularly not easy for marginalized writers. Most every major comic book company just recites 'make your own stuff first and then show us that' but when you're a writer specifically, finding a compatible artist to partner with on creator-owned indie stuff first, when those artists are in the same position as you are and apologetically and understandably tend to have to take paying work over yours if you can't pay except on the back end, like....there are a lot of hurdles to getting your start in comic books, and while there are more and more marginalized writers in comics these days, DC and Marvel kinda fucked up, because you know what?

After being told 'make your own first, then we'll talk,' writers DID do just that....but then found out that well, due to the ease of online distribution and access these days, for any writers who CAN find an artist to partner with, its a hell of a lot easier to get their content out there these days WITHOUT a major publisher behind them.....and for a lot of marginalized writers in particular, its worth it to keep full creative control in exchange for smaller circulation. Especially when they don't have to deal with editors 'softening' their work to make it more palatable for audiences that quite frankly aren't necessarily their primary target. So yeah, marginalized voices are becoming more and more present in comics, but Marvel and DC for the most part are keeping the same voices centered they always have, and what these voices have to say is becoming less and less relevant and outdated. Because much like this arc from Taylor, even when they DO dip their toes into story matter that's of interest to wider audiences, they're doing so to a degree that still puts them years behind the conversations everyone else is having.

5) The same holds true of disability representation. I stopped reading Taylor's run for a lot of reasons but his way of responding to people unhappy with his depiction of Babs was a key one. If I'm editor on a book, and someone tweets at one of my writers that their depiction of a disabled character was hurtful because it feels like they're doubling back on everything Babs has ever said about not being defined by or ashamed of her disability and now its being treated like a dirty little secret, and that writer's response is essentially to just laugh at them and say there's nothing wrong or ableist about their writing of a disabled person, TO a concerned disabled person? That writer's ass is getting fired. Full stop.

Either you give a shit about this stuff or you don't. Don't pay your readers lip service about how important social issues are to you and how much you care about using superhero narratives to inspire people on these matters if you're gonna turn around and show your ass the second you don't feel comfortable and prioritized by the conversation, like it wouldn't exist without your oh so valuable contributions. ESPECIALLY if you don't identify as sharing the same identity of the marginalized character you're writing. You are a guest in someone else's lived experiences at that point, and you think you've got the right to belittle and talk down to the people who LIVE THERE? Fuck off, my dude.

6) Re-center Dick as someone who the superhero community RESPECTS. I love seeing Dick depicted as someone who has an awareness of his own limitations and an appreciation for what others bring to the table, and so I'm not opposed to him calling on others when he needs to.....but I also would like to see more of the opposite. But not in the way we usually see it these days, where he's asked to come help with a crisis and then usually second-guessed the whole way, and then sent back home without so much as a thank you when its done. Yawn. Sorry. I've read that story by now.

You know what story arc I freaking LOVED as a kid, back in the 90s? In Green Lantern, when Kyle Rayner first became the sole GL, one of his very early arcs, before he ever joined the JLA or anything....was him realizing how little he knew about being a superhero. He was like, my predecessors all had a full fledged CORPS to teach them everything they needed to know, but I had a few lines of exposition from a funny little blue guy in a red pillowcase and then I was off to the races. That's not good enough. There's so much I don't know about being a hero, I don't even KNOW what I still need to know.

So he went on kinda a superhero training roadtrip. He went to Metropolis to ask Superman for advice, he went to Batman to learn from Batman and Robin (Tim at the time). He went to Wonder Woman, Sentinel (Alan Scott, the first Green Lantern), etc, etc. And in the end, Kyle very much became his own kind of hero who wasn't just a pastiche of all those other heroes and the advice they gave him, but like....this put him on the road to that.

And I'd love to see something like that happen in Dick's solo title. We've seen him train in a team setting, we've seen him train the other Robins.....I'd love to see like, young superheroes from OTHER books, not ones created by the title, but like names people actually recognize from other franchises, like, guest star in Nightwing's book to learn from HIM, specifically. I wanna see something where Wally looks at the latest speedster and is like, you know what, if you really wanna be the best hero you can possibly be, then Nightwing's who you gotta go to, because there's no one I trust to make a better hero out of someone than him. I want the newest kid on the JLA block to worry that people aren't taking him seriously because of his age or experience, and he's always hearing them talk about Nightwing and how young he was when he started and so if anyone knows something about how to gain the respect of your older superhero peers, that's the guy to talk to.

Gimme Dick's couch being crashed on at various times by a half dozen new or upcoming young superheroes who all heard or figured out that if they really want to up their superhero game, Nightwing's the guy to see.

7) Bring back Bea. There's no long paragraph expansion on this, its really simply. Bring back Bea. She was one of the freshest breaths of air in Dick's supporting cast in ages, most of the current run is based off her character direction in the first place, she's literally the best suited TO help Dick in this venture, and the reasons they gave for writing her out of Dick's life were all bullshit and they just wanted to focus on his previous relationships, which would be fine if they didn't fall into the same two endless cycles of bring back up, go nowhere with, awkwardly avoid each other for years, rinse and repeat. Like. Bring back Bea, please and thank you, the end.

8) Focus on new villains. Heartless is meh, but the idea of new villains is still better IMO than rehashing Blockbuster, Zucco, etc. Like, nostaglia ain't it. If I want to read Blockbuster fucking up Dick's life, I can do that. They're called back issues. The thing is, love it or hate it, the Blockbuster arc WAS iconic. It left its mark. And anything that doesn't leave just as much of a mark, if they're going to bring him up again, is just gonna be a waste of time, you know? It'll just dilute his overall presence when like, what he was - worked fine as is. We don't need Round Two.

The trick to good villains, IMO, is they have to speak to a fight that needs fighting.

What I mean by that is....the best villains are those who resonate on a more instinctive level because they embody something that already exists in a reader's mind as a conflict that needs fighting. Like, if superheroes exist, if the embodiment of larger than life presences and forces devoted to protecting the world from various things are real....then their villains need to embody the kinds of fights or conflicts that NEED larger than life figures to combat them, at least on a one to one level.

Look at Superman and Lex Luthor. Superman at his core embodies the strength of community. He's the ultimate hero of the people, his essence is that he was the last survivor of a doomed race who was raised by two honest, hard working people to see the beauty in just being ONE of them, in using what he had on behalf of all of them and not just himself. In contrast, Lex Luthor is basically the embodiment of capitalist greed, of excess, of the entitlement of being able to have anything with a snap of your fingers and thus assuming that gives you divine mandate to make the kinds of choices that he sees as only his right to make.

He hates Superman, ultimately, because Superman is the WRONG savior of the people. He wants their only savior to be HIM, half the time he honestly believes he's saving the world FROM Superman, but just as often he's perfectly content to be the villain and not shy about it....because Lex Luthor's ultimate motivation is he wants everyone to know when he's dead and gone that LEX LUTHOR WAS HERE. He genuinely doesn't care WHAT his impact or legacy is at the end of the day, just that it exists and it overshadows most everything else...because all that really matters to him is the irrefutable proof that HE mattered. And thus at their cores, Superman and Lex are perfectly opposed. Ideally situated to eternally be in conflict, their own forever war, because their core natures are incompatible. They CAN'T compromise, without compromising themselves and essentially ending up as someone totally other than who and what they are already.

And you can go down the list. The Joker is the chaos to Batman's order, while Mr. Freeze is the stagnancy of that order taken too far, he's what you get when you freeze everything in your grief and refuse to let anything go on, anything new grow, because that would mean having to admit once and for all that what you're mourning is really gone. Two-Face is the ultimate embodiment of Man vs Self, a once good man at war with his own worse nature, and reminding everyone who looks at him how easily they could fall to the same fate.

And so on and so on. What Dick needs, is more of the same. Like, as much as I'm not a huge fan of Talon stories, I maintain that the Court of Owls were a great foil for him - just they tend to be poorly used in canon as well. But I also think how poorly they come off in canon has a lot to do with canon not really touching on WHY they're such a perfect foil for Dick....and that's Dick's history with being outside the system, mistreated and even exploited by the system. Because the Court, their core concept, is they ARE the system. They are entrenched, enfranchised, institutional power, passed down through generations, dynastic control that is a perfect counterpart to the dynastic power of the Wayne family, embodied in its youngest generation in the form of Bruce's FOUND family, the children he adopted regardless of whether or not his peers found them deserving of that honor. The Court, and their entire....thing...about the Gray Son, is the entitled fury of those denied something they deem theirs simply because they WANT it, and who will burn the whole world down rather than admit defeat or let someone else have it instead.

And that resonates. It could resonate a lot MORE if DC would actually lean into those concepts and allow Dick to explore how the Court are nothing he's not used to, they're literally made up of the same people who have looked down on him ever since he came to Gotham, but now they're actually a face and a name put to all those attitudes, something he can literally FIGHT BACK AGAINST. The Court are literally human-sized embodiments of everything and everyone who's tried to confine Dick since his parents' deaths, tried to define him without his permission, tried to make him other or lesser than who and what he is.....and who thus now exist in a form that Dick can literally BATTLE. So that he doesn't HAVE to just take this stuff lying down.

Thanks to the Court, he doesn't HAVE to just passively accept it, that this is just how life is, that some people are going to view him this way and think this about him and there's nothing he can do about it. He CAN do something about it, in superhero stories. He can kick its ASS, in the form of the Court of Owls and everything its members think about him and intend for him. He can refuse to bow down to them, to accept their mark on him. He can say lol, no, and then blow their shit sky high, ideally with a little help from his family. He can BEAT them, in this incarnated form, and in doing so, even though he can't beat everything they stand for and represent, that victory still matters, still means something symbolic to readers it resonates with.

And that's what we need more of. Villains created specifically to embody concepts that are diametrically opposed to Dick and what he represents. The system, yes, but also villains who embody the kind of tyranny and control he fights back against in his constant battles for autonomy and self control. Villains who embody the 'new hopes' of a second generation just like Dick himself is the focal point of the hopes embodied by the second generation of heroes. I'm actually not the hugest fan of multiversal constant Dick Grayson, but I might like it more if he had an opposite number there, someone he was specifically contrasted with. Idk.

But you get it.

9) Dick having a social life. Gimme the Titans and his siblings showing up JUST to show up. We have room enough for at least a couple pages every other issue where we just get to see these characters having some breathing room, taking a beat to stop and be something other than just a superhero, to be human as well. There's more to life than 24/7 fighting, even for them, and that's largely been lost in modern superhero comics, which kinda sucks, because that was what made most of the more iconic and lasting dynamics between various characters like, STAND the test of time. The larger than life battles between good and evil might be what many of us come to superhero comics FOR, but the relatable back-and-forths and ups and downs of their private lives spent with friends and family tends to be what keeps most of us coming BACK. And lately its all just mission, mission, mission, and I'm like blah, blah, blah and its like, meh, meh, meh. Y'know? Give the guy some down time, and let his friends come spend it with him.

10) Boone. This is purely self-indulgent, but if you know anything about me, you know my obsession with Robin: Year One, Dick's brief time at Vengeance Academy, and the hate/hate relationship he has with his brief frenemy from that period, Boone aka Shrike. This character has SOOOOO much potential to be Dick's true archnemesis and rival, and like. *Sobs* I can't get into it all again. Its too much. I can't do it.

Okay, I absolutely can. And will, probably. But like. Later.

BONUS ROUND:

Other thing I would absolutely insist upon if I were Nightwing editor....

GET THAT FUCKING MEME SHIRT ABOUT BRUCE SLAPPING DICK THE FUCK OUTTA HERE.

Like. Seriously. WHAT THE HELL. Why would you double down on THAT? Why is Babs STILL wearing it? (Last I checked, like I think I saw it in a scan from last issue? I'm pretty sure its still there? If not, forget this entire rant, and I am very embarrassed. Okay not that embarrassed. I don't really care if I'm wrong here but like, in case I'm not)...

WHY. Who thought that was funny? No, seriously, on behalf of any other abuse survivors who like me are SERIOUSLY not amused, who the FUCK thinks its FUNNY to have one of Dick's best friends sporting a shirt that no matter what it represents IN universe, to readers OUT of universe, is always going to call to mind the fact that this meme only freaking EXISTS because of all the times DC has obliviously and without acknowledgment written Bruce abusing his children, including the BFF that Babs is literally wearing that right in front of.

Like omg do you hate her, DC? What other possible reason could you have for thinking that would be a cute, funny thing for her to wear around the guy getting SLAPPED, by his DAD, in your shirt's iconography.

Okay I'm done.

LOL.

Sorry, that last one was brewing for awhile. Deep breaths. Woo.