#nothing makes you feel useful like stumbling across a boss and a guy waiting outside and realizing that he

[andromedasummer]

playing eso and remembering why i like mmos (crafting and the rush of fighting a boss with strangers)

[tteokdoroki]

assistance please! | e.kirishima.

♡ pairing: eijirou kirishima x fem!reader.

♡ word count: 6.6K

♡ rating: mature, 18+, mdni.

♡ genre: workplace!au, internship!au, fluff + smut.

♡ summary: eijirou kirishima loved being an intern, he had great co-workers, had a shot at his dream job, his boss had taken quite liking to him and of course, being the favourite intern had many, many perks.

♡ warning(s): please read ! heavy smut,  ( kirishima is in his twenties ), power dynamics, sub top!kirishima + power bottom!reader,   heavy!praise kink, heavy!miss + mommy kink, unprotected sex ( wrap it before you tap it, kids ), oral ( female receiving ), squirting, tummy bulges, cumplay, creampie.

♡ author’s note(s): hihi everyone!! today i present to you my contribution to the bnharem on the job collab! i had a lot of fun playing with different dyanimics in this fic, i hope you enjoy it nonetheless!! make sure you chek out the other works from the other amazing creators!! <3

♡ masterlist | requests | kofi

“oi! ‘shima! you’re needed in the boss’ office right away, she’s got important business for ya!, wants t’have a word. now.”

eijirou ducks his head politely in a sign of gratitude, thanking his co-worker and superior, keigo— for the heads up. keigo, or better known as hawks around the office ( for his fast speeds in completing work and luring lonely interns into his bed ), was a nice guy— second to the lady in charge and way too chatty. he was a bit of an air head, got the job done when it needed to be but that’s what kirishima was for, the replacement while keigo took his vacation time in the middle of the year like an idiot.

he wasn’t too sure why you kept the blonde around, he supposed it was because he was pretty but eijirou wouldn’t dare question you— he needed this internship if he was going to make it big in the sports news reporting scene. he’d been majoring in sports and healthcare at college, two years away from graduating when the opportunity to work for yn ln, one of the biggest sports journalists in japan had landed right in his lap. of course he was going to take it, of course he was going to do everything he could not to fuck it up.

in the cubicles beside him, the other interns try to muffle their giggles and titters of curious laughter as the red head gathers himself for the meeting.

“oooo, i wonder what you did this time,” kaminari teases from the right, leaning over his side of the cubicle to fiddle with the odd bits on kirishima’s desk. denki kaminari was another person kirishima wondered how the hell he got into the programme, but then again he was pretty to look at and brought a lighter air to boring office days.

“nothing! i’m innocent!” eijirou defends, hands releasing his files to fly up in defence.

the other interns, going by the names of mina ashido, kyouka jirou and hanta sero snicker amongst themselves at the interaction.

“don’t believe it, s’obviously more than nothin’ if you’re always getting called down’ta the boss lady’s office.” bakugou, another intern, grunts out with his nose deep buried in files for upcoming reports. he was a little too rough for the journalism lifestyle but got the job done. his attitude wasn’t for everyone. “they’re probably fuckin’.”

mina giggles and kirishima steps out into the paths between desks. “don’t be such a sourpuss ‘suki, just ‘cause you’re not her favourite.”

a lose ‘shut up’ is huffed, before katsuki turns to face his taller, buffer companion. “just don’t be late, bunch of us are goin’ for lunch later.” he adds and turns back to his paperwork.

“affirmative, catch ya later!”

the group waves the red head off as he heads to the elevator directing him to the main floor— this is where all the higher ups worked. the journey wasn’t unfamiliar to the intern, he wasn’t like the others and had the steps to your office memorised by heart. sometimes it was like walking home, to his comfort and sanctuary away from the stressors of work and the outside world— he knew that was bad, but you were so kind, such a sweet and understanding boss he couldn’t help but develop some level of comfort towards you.

to most, it seemed like eijirou kirishima was just unbelievably close to his boss, that you’d taken him under your wing.

he however, knew what you had, meant more.

a fluttering warmth spreads across the intern’s chest as he approaches the door to your main office and he knocks. behind it lay mountains of secrets upon secrets, things that kirishima knows about you that no one else does. the walls have hidden words, written across them in fonts of passion and admiration and it’s all that he can think about. you’re all that he can think about, and it’s still wrong. there’s a shuffling deep in the room and some flitters of paper here and there before your soft, velveteen voice breaks through the barrier between you. the one thing keeping you apart.

“come in,” you call smoothly and kirishima follows your orders swiftly, if not eagerly, entering the four walls of your office. ruby eyes dart across the room to locate your position and his heart skips a beat when he finds you, body leaning over your dark oak desk, papers scattered across it while you frantically sift through numbers and stocks and nonsense way above the level of a journalism intern. but even amongst the chaos, you’re beautiful— eyes sparkling with productivity, lined in little flecks across the colour of your orbs. the way you dress never fails to steal away eijirou’s breath— a tight fitting leather skirt that hugs your mature curves and a white blouse with the bottoms popped open— just enough for him to get a peek at your cleavage.

the poor intern has to hold himself back from blurring the lines of work and pleasure to shove himself deep into your chest, suck and lick at your plush breasts until he was high off the taste of your skin. but he wouldn’t do that, yet. not without your permission. “oh eiji baby, there you are!” you coo to the red head, bright smile stretching across blood diamond painted lips. you cross the room in three short strides, tall black heels clacking against the smooth white marble until you’re standing in front of and looking up at kirishima. “was starting to think keigo had ditzed like a pretty boy and had forgotten to send you my way, darling.”

eijirou’s cheeks flame at the smoothness in your syrupy voice, like sweet honey to his hears, the pet name striking a familiar heat deep within him. you always had a way with your words— enticing, almost like a siren calling out to him despite the taboo aura that surrounded what you had. whatever it was— he just knew it was more than your typical boss-intern relationship.

“even if he had, ‘m more than happy to be of service to you ma’am,” he responds almost a little too quickly, large hand rubbing the back of his neck and tugging at his baby hairs to ground himself.

you cock your head, eyes sparkling with mischief. “always such a helpful, good boy eijirou,” you hum, lips pulling into a devilish red smile and the praise causing a new spark of lustful electricity to crackle through the air. “i could use a little assistance, please, i have this awful meeting with the board today, spent all night preparing and couldn’t go home, i could use some stress relief,”

kirishima’s gaze becomes hooded as he looks down at you, a familiar and bright desire burning in the pits of his stomach. “oh yeah? sucks that the paperwork kept you up all night ma’am…” he trails off, choosing to let his fingers dance up and down your sides— snaking an arm around your waist to pull you into him. you couldn’t or you wouldn’t go home. he’s not sure if he cares about the answer right now— not when you tremble in his grip, itching for something, anything from him. “how long do you reckon we have ms. ln?”

“ten to fifteen minutes sweetheart, give or take,”

you grin widens, taking an impossibly closer step to your intern— pressing the swell of your breasts against his hard chest. he can feel your nipples pebbling through your blouse, almost visible behind the white fabric and god the way you look up at him— he can no longer wait, he needs you. right here and right now.

“will you be needing my assistance throughout, ma’am?” kirishima asks, voice dropping a few octaves until it falls into a low growl.

“i expect it. you are my intern after all.”

the words laced with deep huskiness, the proximity of your bodies and the rising heat in the room is what leads you both to tumble into the next series of events. before he can’t register it, your mouths are slotted together in a fast paced and sloppy kiss, kirishima’s body manoeuvres you around the office, marking out a familiar pathway to your desk—his tongue remains sliding over yours in rapid movements as he commits your taste to memory, refreshing those from the last time he had you like this. yet every time you kiss and his tongue glides over yours, you taste sweeter than before; like peaches and morning coffee— you feel softer in his grip, every dip and curve to your body like it was built for him.

eijirou can't stop thinking of that last time, tucked away in your office after dark when your dainty hands pawed desperately at his hips to bring him closer or scratched at his back from sheer pleasure— kirishima wants to see you like that against, using his own hands to tear through your shirt and send buttons flying across the room. something in him just wants to do good for you, have you ache for him and earn himself some of your sweet praise. even as you step and stumble towards your work desk, the red-head lets his lips break away from yours, connected by a string of your own saliva before he drops to your neck, lapping tracks over your skin with the temptation to bite down and paint it shades of deep purple and blue.

but there are rules that you both have in place; ways to keep what you have a secret and hidden away from the public eye so that you don’t lose all that you’ve worked for and so kirishima can keep being your precious little intern.

“jump for me, please ma’am,” he whispers heavily into the junction between your neck and your shoulders, breath laboured and warm against your skin that begins to shine with light perspiration. mindlessly, you follow his orders, jumping up while your fingers curl into the mass of red on kirishima’s head and ankles lock around his waist—his hands meet the backs of your doughy thighs, squeezing the flesh between calloused digits while you toe off your heels.

“eiji, you’re so good,” you manage between feather light breaths as they clatter to the floor as the pair of you somehow make your way to the desk chair, pushing and tearing the clothes from one another’s bodies— including your crisp shirt. now seated and left in nothing but your bra, you tug harshly at your intern’s locks and bring his mouth down to yours, allowing them to move together in a dirty, messy kiss. there’s barely any time for you both to mess around, for him to tease you until your limit and you’re crying out for any type of touch from him, so eijirou quickly

flips down your bra, exposing your chest to cool, air conditioned air—not even bothering to unclip the material as his fingers descend on your nipple, pulling and twisting them until your back arches from the stimulation. “hurry, please eijirou,”

obedient as ever, your favourite boy drops to his knees in front of the chair you stay slumped in and with his height, he still manages to tower over you, practically at eye level with hunger framing the ruby of his own. large hands knead at your plush thighs, hiking your skirt up and up to give you room to spread your thighs, cunt growing sticky from anticipation— all from a few measly touches in familiar places. but this is kirishima, and he knows how your body works from countless hours spent after the office closes up— using one another to blow off extra steam. he knows just what makes you tick and moan his name.

logically, eijirou knows that your meeting could start at any minute and even though you’re both in a stickler for time, he still wants to get a taste at your skin before devouring your most intimate parts. he’ll make time to explore every part of you, to assist you in your stress relief. “‘m sorry miss, yn,” he whines needily, watching your chest rise and fall with want, feeling your body heat up and twitch from the ghost of his fingertips across your blemished skin. “gotta have a taste of you before the real deal, hope’ya don’t mind…”

latching onto the left mound of flesh at your exposed chest, kirishima sinks the point of his teeth into the area around your nipple— just enough to graze your skin and pull a sweet mewl from your mouth. you’re both lucky for the soundproof walls, your head thrown back in a lewd moan he lets his pink tongue roll over your bud in vicious circles. heavy, fat globs of saliva pool over the pink muscle, pouring down kirishima’s chin and painting your skin with a slick shine. “h-how...how could i mind angel, not when you treat me s’good,” you heave, vision fading in and out due to the overwhelming amount of pleasure flashing through your body in waves of hotness. “always doin’ so well for me eiji, aren’t you such a good boy?”

“yes ma’am,” the intern confirms with a erogenous slur, pacified and content on his knees for you— sucking, licking and biting at your chest to his heart’s content. “‘m your good boy,” he corrects you, however. eijirou feels most happy when grazing his tongue over the swell of your breasts, watching your face carefully for any twitches of delirium, it lets him know how hot aroused he makes you feel— that knowledge shoots straight to his cock, rock hard in his slacks while the redhead watches his boss writhe in her seat all for his eyes only.

such a dazzling view, and it’s all for fucking him.

your perfectly manicured nails run through red hair, scratching deliciously at his scalp until you’re forcing his head back and pulling kirishima off of your breast with a pop. “as much as i love seeing a pretty boy suck on my tits like a baby, we’re pressed for time angel, gonna need you to speed it up a little,” despite the softness to your face and the sudden evenness to the tone of your voice, the words that you speak to eijirou are vulgar, nasty, and turn him on to his wits end. “want you to eat me out eiji, can you do that for me?”

shaking his head, yes, beautiful claret eyes shining with acquiescence, kirishima wipes the spit from his chin with the back of his hand— like the tainted, dirty intern he is. you sigh down at him salaciously, ready to tear his innocence apart all over again. eijirou was always so willing to please, both in his work and behind closed doors— you would be a fool to not take advantage of that. with brute force, your intern forces your legs apart, eyes rolling back in his skull from the scent of your sex, dripping with your juices right through your underwear and stockings. overexcited, he rips through the flimsy material at your cunt, exposing your panties for him to see.

“you’re so...so wet ms.ln,” kirishima comments observantly, not even bothering to pull your stockings the rest of the way down your legs, instead opting to pull on the whole until it’s wide enough for his mouth to fit. “smell s’good, bet you taste even better,” there’s a patch on the crotch of your panties, darker than the rest of the material from where you leak and without a second thought, the red head instantly surges forward to lick a stripe over it, letting out a choked gripe as the taste of your cream from over the fabric invades his tongue.

you let out a shrill cry, hips jumping up at the first brush of his tongue against your untouched, clothed pussy. you wriggle even as kirishima holds you down, needing the heat of his mouth against you before your meeting starts. but he’s so good, so well trained, reaching up to your hips to yank your panties down in one fluid motion. leaning forward, kirishima savagely buries his face between your doughy thighs, hiking them over his shoulders from beneath the desk. his nose bumps against your clit, swollen from the lack of touch as he greedily inhales your scent once more— without warning, the intern kicks a stripe up the length of your pussy, sucking your juices into his mouth and smiling against your heat.

“d-don’t tease baby, be good for me,” you remind kirishima, your body trembles with anticipation, craving an orgasm to expel the stress of your work days out. the boy between your legs only hums, the sound running straight though cunt and vibrating against it, causing you to gush and spill your arousal out onto the leather seat beneath your cheeks. eijirou feasts on the slick that seeps from your fluttering hole, gliding his tongue up and down your sex, allowing the occasional pressure from his nose to stimulate your bundle of nerves.

the pads of his thighs burn marks into your legs, using them as leverage to pull your heated core further into his mouth, “can’t help it ma’am, y’got such a pretty pussy...s’only right that i worship you…” eijirou breaths right against your puffy folds, eyes trained on the way your hole clenches around nothing. a primal urge flares in his chest, a desire— no, a need— to see you filled with something, any part of him that can make you see stars and fuck you dumb. “‘m sorry, ‘m sorry you jus look s’fucking pretty miss…”

attaching his lips to your clit, the redhead pushes the spit gathered on his tongue right over your sloppy sit, hazy ruby stare watching as his saliva mixes with your juices and slides over your empty hole. he follows the oozing trail with his tongue, lapping it up and spewing it back into your sex until the pink muscle slips past your entrance— slipping inside of you with no prior warnings. your knuckles that grasp the arms of the chair as you’re spoiled between your legs by your top intern, his hands snaking their way around the tops of your thighs to spread your sticky pussy lips apart in order to bring more of you to the cool air of the office.

“you like this don’cha? dirty little boy,” you tease the poor boy, watching as his cheeks flame with embarrassment. “being a naughty little intern between your boss’ thighs all to keep on pleasing  her, keep your position at her company, huh? fuck eiji, you just love miss riding your naughty tongue—ohmygod—“

the way you sound, voice smooth like chocolate over the obscene slurping that fills the thats air heavy with the scent of sex and, makes eijirou’s cock jump up, precum oozing from his tip as he begins to rut against the hard floor beneath your desk. he makes an attempt to respond, but your thighs lock his head in place and his words come out muffled against your core. “mph, luh it, you’re s’sexy, please ma’am—“ he mumbles sordidly against you, practically humping the ground at your feet as you pick on him.

for a brief moment, kirishima pulls away to watch you roll your hips into nothing, hot tears beginning to brew into our hooded eyes from the satisfaction he brings you with every flick and flit of his tongue against where you need him most. written in your eyes is the command to keep going, your hands twistingly sharply in red roots to bring the intern back to your sluice, spasming cunt. so he does as he’s told, shoving his tongue deep inside your ribbed, iron hot walls and dragging tip along them to collect and taste strings of your viscous juices.

biting your lip, you do your best to hold back a voracious howl, bucking your hips feverishly into your intern’s face and staining his cheeks with everything that you have— he thrusts his tongue into you to the pace of your own hips, moaning against your slippery slit until your eyes are rolling. “gonna cum from this eiji, from you eatin’ me out like this...jus need a little more— need your fingers pretty boy,” you can feel the twist of the knot in your lower tummy starting to unravel, signifying your oncoming high, and the room starts to spin while kirishima eats you out with new vigour.

“yeah? miss? you’re gonna cum for me?” the intern practically whines and pulls his tongue from your hear, almost crying as his hips thump against the floor desperate for friction. “wanna see you come undone s’bad, please cum for me, please, please—“ eijirou chants, replacing his tongue with two of his thick digits, watching as your slick cunt stretches around them accommodatingly. he jackhammers them inside of you, grunting lowly underneath the slaps of his palm against the meat of your ass, as he returns to your clit to suckle on it hungrily. his fingers curl instantly in search for the spongy spot inside of you— bearing down hard against it once it’s located.

“oh—hah, right there baby— right fuckin’ there—!” you squeal, only egging him on as white starts to cloud your vision, everything sounds so nasty and wet, while eijirou stimulates both of your pleasure spots. it becomes hard to breath, legs wobbling around his broad shoulders, but your intern doesn’t let up, determined to bring you to cloud nine.

“that’s it ma’am, right there—you’re almost there, can feel you clenching around my fingers...please cum, fuck i want your cum, wanna taste you so bad, cum. cum. cum!” and that’s all it takes, eijirou’s pleading voice between your thick thighs to make the coil inside you snap and for your orgasm to wash over you. you convulse in your chair, nectar gushing freely from your raw and overstimulated cunt, spewing all over the redheads face as he continued to lap at your clit to ride out your high.

but he doesn’t stop there, scissoring his fingers deep within your velvet walls as you continue to cum, making you shake your head and wail from the high levels of ecstasy.

“please eiji—n’more, can’t, no—“

“you can miss, i know you can—fuck you look so pretty when you’re about to squirt for me, please…”

as quickly as your first high ended, another one comes crashing over you in harsh waves— rocking your world as clear liquid floods from your pussy— the sheer force of you squirting, pushing kirishima’s fingers out from your tight, sappy hole. your release hits the floor with a crude slap, both of you moaning loudly almost for the whole world to hear. he doesn’t stop sucking, clearing up your pretty cunt even as you fade in and out of consciousness from pleasure— he stays lapping at you with burning, languid strokes of his tongue between your folds even as you weakly attempt to answer the phone now ringing from your desk.

clearing your throat, you muster up the strength to sound professional over the line before picking up the phone and bringing it towards your ear. “good afternoon, this is yn ln of shinku sports reports, bringing you the latest sporting news, how may i help you?”

‘this is the board, we need to discuss this month's stocks and reports.’

from the corner of your eye, you can see kirishima rise from his place underneath your desk— standing tall over you once more while you converse with the directors on the other end of the phone. as quietly as he can, the redhead tears through the buttons on his shirt in a similar way to you, prior to you fucking and unbuckles his slacks. he pulls down his boxers and pants in one go, revealing his thick, hard girth that stands tall and slaps against his stomach— tip an angry shade of red as precum smears across his lower belly.

you nod into the phone, forgetting that the board can’t see you as kirishima lifts you from the chair and lays you on your back across the desk littered with unread papers. “ah yes, i’ve been expecting a call from you…” you whisper so quietly instead, not caring if they’ve missed what you said. you’re hardly paying attention, choosing to wrap a fist around eijirou’s cock, slickly pumping him to prepare him to take you— he parts your thighs, eyes closing and body shuddering above you while you continue to converse with the board.

spreading the droplets of precum across his slit and iron hot tip, kirishima takes his cock from your grasp— heavily slapping it against your sensitive and swollen clit to see you jolt up the desk. “gonna fuck you so good miss, jus’ be good ‘n stay quiet for me okay?” he says, a whimper catching in the tail end of his words. you nod to him, rushed and way too eager, laying your head back on the hard wood your swimming gaze settles on kirishima as he taps the head of his cock against your hole, teasingly pushing it just past your entrance before withdrawing again.

‘ms. ln, are you still there? we really are pressed for time so we would love to start by discussing interviews for the next issue—‘

you forget that you’re still connected on the line, settling for wriggling impatiently underneath your intern, who’s caramel tinted skin glistens with sweat and his cheeks begin to flush with unadulterated desire— all from watching the way your puffy folds lube up his shaft with every push through them. you can see him losing his resolve, just as sensitive as you since he’s been holding back an orgasm and without the hint of a warning, eijirou’s hips jump forward and drive his cock into the deepest parts of your sex— brushing against your cervix. you gasp out in surprise, finally losing focus and barely manage a more comprehensive response to the board you have waiting on the line. “y-yes!— yes, yes, i’m still here… you may proceed with the meeting.”

he’s big, bigger than anyone you’ve ever had— and you’d seen a lot being a woman of your caliber this high up in the industry...but no one could compare to the way your sweet, doe eyed gentlemanly little intern filled you up, fat cock stretching your walls even with the shallow thrusts into your cunt he gives you to adjust. the weight of his girth sits heavily inside you, twitching as kirishima slides into you easily due to the stickiness lining your gummy walls, breath shaky and uneven as he holds out for you during this time. you can tell the poor boy isn’t going to last long, fingers sinking into your thighs with a harsh grip while he tries to hold himself back.

such a good boy, always waiting for your every command.

‘so we’d like to talk about the main feature for next month’s issue, do you have anyone in mind?’

the monotone voice of the board member is drowned about by kirishima’s shaky breaths above you, his pleading puppy dog eyes while he stills himself inside your spasming, puckered hole— he waits for permission, following orders like a trained pet even though he can hardly stand it, overwhelmed by the flutter of your sex around him and heat from your body despite thrown over the desk. “y-you’re s’warm...god ma’am...need to—need to move,” the redhead huffs weakly in order to keep himself quiet, a line of sweat dotting his brow. “please,”

you sit up on the desk, legs locking around his slender waist to draw him closer, sheathing more of the poor boy inside of you until he’s completely bottomed out and balls deep inside your pretty cunt. he drops his neck to your shoulder, tongue lolling over your salt licked skin before biting down to pacify himself, sharp teeth almost drawing blood while you adjust the cord of the phone. “i was thinking…thinking that we got the hockey player— the oylmpic champion…” your eyes drift to kirishima’s complacent face, giving him a nod to start moving while he sucks another bruise further down his onto your collarbone. “t-touya...touya todoroki—!”

you hiccup but play it off with a cough when kirishima pulls back his hips, so far that his girth completely leaves you, before he drives himself forward with one powerful thrust and fills you right up again. looking down, you see him bulge in your tummy, the line of his girth prominent against your body— slightly dwarfed in kirishima’s arms. you rock your hips, coaxing your intern into your warmth to help him build up a momentum of thrusts.

‘sounds like a good choice, do we have anyone who could interview him? i believe we can have PR set up an interview this week.’

the desk creaks below you, hard wood groaning along with the red head who hides himself in your neck, squeaking pathetically as he moves inside of you— precum smearing along your gummy walls that welcome his hardened shaft. your pussy opens up for eijirou like it’s welcoming him home, still growing used to the pleasure-filled burn and stretch of him pushing in and out of you. the nerves on his head catch amongst your inner ridges, making his toned body shake in ecstasy.

“m-ma’am, feel s’fucking good, so fucking good...” your intern hums against your salty skin mawkishly, large palms dropping to the flesh of your ass— kneading it to bring you closer to his body— cock barely leaving you due to your proximity. with slow strokes, eijirou fills you up, painting you with what leaks from his tip— prodding at your cervix and brushing up against your sweet spot in ways that make sweet nectar dribble from your hole.

your digits curl in his hair once more, the phone slipping from between your neck and creating rustling on your end. “eijirou,” you sigh breathily, humping back his cock while you squeeze around him selfishly, keeping your intern inside of you. “i-i mean eijirou kirishima, he’s an intern— such a… a good one at that…”

a immodest whimper brews in the base of eijirou’s throat, bubbling against his bruised lips  while you shower him with praise, indirect to him, hand snaking up to the back of your neck— tangling in your baby hairs as he pulls you up to a sloppy kiss, slotting your mouths together and running his tongue over yours. “f-fuck mommy, ‘m i your good boy? please tell me yes, fuck, yn— ma’am,”

kirishima’s voice rises in octave as it does devoir and pathos, vulnerability stays written across his handsome features as he succumbs to the mind break the heat of your damp, creamy core as he fucks into you. you throb at his use of mommy, shakily pulling the phone away from your ear to reach up to his own, nipping the earlobe and tugging on it gently. “you’re my good boy baby, keep being good eiji, be quiet...you gotta stay quiet if you want to keep fucking mommy okay? you wanna cum inside me right?” you say, words aberrant and low toned  on your tongue, your intern hisses and whines in response— nodding his head again and letting out a barely coherent ‘yes’. “then shh, baby, let mommy talk yeah?”

“hm’kay,” he babbles, dropping his ruby framed gaze to where your bodies meet, hiking your skirt further up your thighs to get a better view of your cunt staining his heavy balls with a layer of your slick.

‘ms. ln, are you sure that you want an intern to cover this case—’ the board begins to ask you, muffled from the distance away from you both.

picking up the phone again, you pull the line towards you again— mindful of capturing eijirou’s weak little mewls over the device as he languidly pumps himself in and out of you. “i know what i—fuck, what i want. eijirou, will be—oh— on the case. that's final.” you huff, watching your intern fall into a pussyhaze, his precious mind fogging with thoughts of only painting you white inside and out as a reward for helping relieve you of stress. the slow roll of his hips into yours are accompanied by the soft slaps of his skin against your own, wet and sticky— determination to make you feel good crackling across his mind.

‘there’s no need to curse, ma’am, do you need a moment to recollect yourself before we proceed with discussing the other features.’

“i’m fucking fine,” you growl, in anger or need you don’t know. but kirishima frowns, you can feel it as he start nosing up your cheek— swiping his tongue over areas of skin he hasn’t touched just yet— he grunts possessively , unhappy with the use of your title coming from anyone other than him. to prove his point, he pushes your thighs wider apart, letting you drip all over the documents sitting below your ass and ruining the ink— important or not he starts a brutal pace into your cunt and presses down on your tummy so you can feel exactly where eijirou is inside you and know that only he can make you feel this way.

‘ms.ln—‘

“i’m fine. keep going.” you grit your teeth, biting your lip to hold down your panting— again you don’t know who you’re speaking to. your intern who slows the movement of his hips, postponing in and out of your tightened hole, clamping down on him eagerly or the stupid board member giving you grief on the phone.

they proceed to talk, barking out suggestions to your sports magazine, that you hate— even considering bringing in good for nothing athletes who’d treated you like shit in the past, and you’d sworn to never work for them again.

but it’s almost silly, how kirishima lets out small moans of mommy and ma’am, trying to keep your attention on him like you would give up grinding down on your intern’s dick for some prissy member of the board over the phone— but you love the slight possession eijirou has over you, moulding your iron hot walls into the shape of his fat dick that presses up against your pleasure spots, makes you convulse and drawl and become addicted to everything that is him. eijirou kirishima.

“takin’ me so good, so well ma’am...don’t think i can hold on anymore…please,” eijirou warns you, losing control of his body as he takes you for his own like he’s done many times before after hours— your gazes lock, you can see his desperation to ruin you, moan for you despite the people on the phone and the people outside your office.

if he grows too loud, he could give you away— they could be listening in to your poor needy little intern humping you like a feral dog and whining your name. and as much as that thought makes your hole spasm around his fat cock, make his thrusts stutter and eyes screw shut while you moan in sweet, almost silent harmony, you love your job and so weakly, you take two of your fingers, shoving them deep into eijirou’s mouth as it hangs open in heavy pants of warm air. you press down on his wet tongue, fucking into his mouth in tune with the pace of his hips plunging deep within your walls, churning up your syrupy and sticky insides.

“keep quiet, baby,”  you hiss to the redhead, who’s eyes start to brim with fresh hot tears from the overwhelming pleasure. “let mommy take care of this, yeah? finish up so you can let it all out on me.”

he sucks on your fingers to calm himself down, shallow breathing while he paws at the flesh on your sides and circles his hips into yours— letting his leaky tip bare down on your sweet spot and forcing the air out of your body. white hot pleasure flashes through your bloodstream, replacing any air of professionalism flooding through them. you can’t, you physically cannot hold back either of your orgasms— you can’t concentrate as your mind starts to fall away with the world and your gaze hones in on the way kirishima takes your fingers in his hot mouth so deep in an attempt to hush himself.

the coil in your tummy begins to unwind and the room swims once more. ‘ms.ln is everything okay over there— we need to progress with his meeting if we’re—‘ the annoying board member sounds underneath kirishima’s sloppy groans, saliva dribbling down the sides of his mouth. your dirty, good boy.

“i’m going to need to take a rain—hah— a rain check on this meeting. you’ll hear from me when my interns and i are ready—“ you huff, cutting the staff off and quickly throwing the phone onto the hook, you’ll have keigo deal with the consequences later but for now you focus on kirishima who picks you up by the ass, lifting you up and down on his cock in frantic movements as he finally loses all connections to his control. “ohmygod—eiji baby, slow—fuck, down—“

he shakes his head, latching onto your collar bone as he revels in the way you leak down his shaft and drip between his balls, lewd squelching sounds fluttering through the air hot, sex scented air at full volume. “‘m sorry ma’am— i can’t… i’m really close, i really need’ta cum...please ma’am...mommy, i’ve been good—please let me cum...“ eijirou groans heartily, from deep in his chest as if he’s finally releasing what he’s been holding back— arms flexing and the sweat from his body slicking up your own.

limbs shaking you wrap your arms around his shoulders and press your foreheads against one another, while you nod. he worked so hard to make you feel good, all day long to do the best job that he can— pressing small kisses to his lips encouragingly. “you can do it baby, one last thing for me— fill me up eiji, cum for me.” you whisper between bites and sucks on his lower lip, lined with a vibrant shade of red.

“cummin’, cummin’...miss yn, mommy—!” and then his hips come to a halt, his dick pulsing as waves of his cream line your insides with an opaque white, thick and seeping down your thighs. his fingers drop to your sensitive cunt, slipping quick circles over your swollen clit to bring you to your high. his cock never stops pumping in and out of you, pushing his seed further into your sex while you writhe and fall over the edge into your orgasm— gushing so hard you force him out of plugged and full hole.

losing his strength, kirishima collapses on top of you, pressing out both to the hard wood seat which you’re surprised  is still standing, his lips pressing fleeting kisses across your face and neck while you both come back down to earth.

and then he looks up at you with a weak smile, “did i do good?” he asks you lazily and almost sleepily— refusing to budge from laying atop you and almost crushing you with his weight.

pushing back his hair to soothe him. “always eiji, you’re not my favourite intern for nothing,” you coo at him, pulling him up to press your lips to him in a soft kiss.

“i sure hope you don’t have any other favourites, i want to be the only one who assists you like this,” kirishima says, remaining tangled with you for a moment more in your office, content with snuggling into your exposed and bruised side.

you share a sleepy giggle, intending to clean up later— eijirou completely forgetting about the lunch he’d promised the other interns after your meeting.

oh well, assisting you was a much better treat than spending time with any one else.

[avintagekiss24]

—you can pretend you don’t miss me; bucky barnes

pairing: tfatws!bucky barnes x black!reader

word count: 4049

warnings: 18+ ONLY, knife kink, vaginal fingering, orgasm denial, tiny bit of blood, attempted murder

challenge: @cockslut-padalecki a decade under the influence “what if I can’t forget you? I’ll burn your name into my throat”

request: bucky barnes + “i have a feeling i’m gonna get lucky tonight” + orgasm denial

author note: surprise! it didn’t take me two months to write something sjsksjs please enjoy fic #3 of my 5/5.5k follower celebration! also another quick congrats to lisa for hitting 10k!!

inspired by this art ; gif by @zacharylevis ; line divider by @firefly-graphics ; title inspired by billie eilish bitches broken hearts

The taste of bourbon and cigarettes is on his lips and tongue as he licks into your mouth. He moans into you, fingers digging into the meat of your thigh as he hooks your leg right around his waist. Your back is up against the heavy door of his apartment, fingers in soft brown hair, wet lips smacking and sucking, teeth nibbling on his swollen, red bottom lip. He laughs, relaxing into your kiss and lips and teeth as he anchors your weight in his metal hand, flesh hand rummaging in his almost too tight black jeans for his door key.

There’s a smirk on your face as you pull away from him. Your lips are still touching. Foreheads resting on one another's. Eyes a little shy, only connecting for fractions of seconds before they’re on the floor or a pair of lips. The jingle of keys fills the hallway, then the thunk of one as it pushes into the slot and stops hard against the rusted metal of the lock. The deadbolt slaps back into the door and with a push of his foot, and a little help from your weight being pinned against it, the swollen door scrapes against the frame as it pops open, swinging back into the wall.

Bucky slips his hands down your sides, grips your hips tight as he starts to back you inside. They stay there, those hands, as his eyes bounce back and forth between yours and dip down to your mouth where he licks his lips and catches his bottom lip between his teeth, like he’s fantasizing about wanting to feel them again. A metal hand cups your face, his palm warm as he sweeps his thumb along your cheek.

His tongue sneaks out just before your lips meet again to tease the roof of your mouth before he grabs your top lip between his. You both inhale deep, breathing each other in, a concoction of soft and sweet and smoke and warmth.

You’re not sure who moves first, whether Bucky is pushing or you’re pulling— probably a little of both— but you’re inside of his apartment before you know it. The door slams shut. Your leather jacket slips off your shoulders and hits the hardwood floor as you back further inside.

Fingers and hands are everywhere. Yanking at shirts, popping buttons, pulling zippers as lips get more desperate. You back into a set of bar stools, knocking them around just a little as you stumble and catch yourself, throwing your head back as laughter spills from you. Bucky pushes out a breath and a small laugh while he eyes you all hungry like as he pulls at his boots.

You tease him a little, putting those feminine wiles to good use— tilt your head, twist your hair around your fingers, push your tits forward. With your shirt crumpled on the floor, the titanium bars pushed through your nipples catch the soft pink, blue, and purple lights of the neon signs pouring in through the kitchen windows through the sheer mesh bralette covering your chest.

Bucky looks a mess. Hair all over his head, pants open— the band of his Hugo Boss boxers peeking out— plain black t-shirt now in a rumpled pile on the floor. His footsteps heavy as he stalks towards you. He stops short, wraps black and gold fingers around your wrist and yanks, collecting you again to crush your soft body against his hard one.

You tilt your head up towards him, eyes turning to slits, lips brushing against his as manicured fingertips push just inside his jeans. Soft tips sweep over a rigid cock, the size making a sly smile curl onto your face. This one is full of surprises.

“Well well,” you purr, kissing him quick, wet and loud, never taking your eyes off him, “I have a feeling I’m gonna get lucky tonight.”

A deep chuckle rumbles through his chest, a breath pushing out through his nose as a lopsided grin paints his handsome face, “Aren’t you a smart girl.”

You curl your fingers around his neck, digging the tips into his messy hair and draw him in— dragging the wet velvet of your tongue over his mouth real slow, watching as his eyes close, “You, bed,” you instruct, “Me, bathroom.”

Footsteps fill the quiet, surprisingly lived-in apartment, the clicks of your heels and his heavy thumps as he pulls you towards the bed. He just points off to his left as he falls onto the mattress, resting a leaden head on a wide palm as he settles in. Eyes blinking at you slow as you disappear behind a white door.

The bathroom is immaculate. White. Sterile. Nothing out of place— very military of him. You undress slowly, removing your shoes one by one before moving on to your jeans, leaving you in nothing but a see through bra, waist high panties— and a black leather ankle holster housing your six inch, hand crafted, butterfly knife.

You lift your foot, place it on the white countertop and slip the blade from the holster before carefully, quietly undoing the straps. Taking a deep breath, you stand up a little straighter, roll your neck and shoulders as you stare back at your reflection. The pony tail comes down, silky hair falling over your shoulders and down your back— best fifteen hundred bucks you’ve ever spent on yourself.

Gotta look good on the day you finally get to kill the Winter Soldier.

With a soft flick of your wrist, the blade flips out and you can’t help but run a manicured finger over the edge, pressing the sharp point into the pad. You find yourself in the mirror again and tilt your head a little as your brain goes a little empty— except for maybe one thought.

You wanna fuck him. You’ve earned it, and regrettably so, you find Bucky Barnes sort of interesting. Funny. Engaging when prodded a bit but still somehow deadpan and aloof.

His huge cock doesn’t help matters either.

You sigh, oh well.

The door clicks as you open it and pass through. You keep your hands behind your back as your body softens— sinks into itself a little. Hair falls in your face as you feign shyness, batting big, soft brown eyes and sinking your teeth into an ample bottom lip.

Bucky took the time to get completely naked. Hard cock gripped in his flesh palm, slow drags from the base to the glistening tip.

God, you really kinda wish you could fuck this man.

“Come ‘ere.”

An outstretched metal hand accompanies the gentle beckoning. You move soft, a small sound of your feet sinking into the carpet before you reach out with your empty hand and slide it into warm metal, using the sturdy grip to hoist yourself up and over his stomach.

His hands find your hips— big, warm, manly hands. They slip upwards just a bit to grip the soft of your sides. Move down again for thick fingers to graze over your ass and tickle the backs of your naked thighs. Still, you palm the handle of your knife tight and high, in the small of your back, as you use your free hand to push the dark strands of hair out of your face.

Bucky’s eyes meet yours when his fingers push between your parted legs, finding a wet spot in those mesh panties. You inhale deep, blinking back at him as his fingers keep a sweet little rhythm back and forth against your cunt. Hips defy your brain and push forward into those fingers— wanting just a little more.

Maybe you can wait… maybe until after...

You lean forward before your brain can finish stringing the words together— you have to or you’d lose all your nerve and give into that weak devil telling you to taste the sin. Let him spread you open until it hurts. Your mouth finds his hot and swollen and you kiss him hard, so hard he groans into it. You pull back just enough to lick his mouth again, eyes bouncing between his.

“What’re you waitin’ for, sweetheart? You need more of an invitation than this?” Bucky asks low and slow, pushing his cock right into your ass as his fingers creep inside your panties.

You smile, real nice and sweet before swooping the arm from behind your back to push the knife into his neck, “Oh nothing, baby,” you purr, “Just waiting for the right time to kill you is all.”

You lean back a little to see his face, tipping your head to the side. He’s pretty calm for a guy who’s minutes away from bleeding out on his own bed— but he is an assassin. Not much can shake him— should shake him.

Bucky blinks slow at you, hands coming to rest by his sides. His eyes don’t widen, pupils don’t dilate. Steady breathing stays just the same— he doesn’t even shift uncomfortably. Just blinks back at you. Slow. Easy. Without a fucking care in the goddamn world.

An angry heat blooms across your skin at his nonchalance as the seconds tick by. Your chest starts to rise and fall a little harder. Your eyes start to bounce between his as you suck your teeth in indignation, “You don’t remember me, do you?”

A blink is all you get.

“Of course you don’t,” you hiss, “Why would you? I was just one of many in the wrong place at the wrong time, right?” Your grip on the handle of the knife tightens as you push it harder against his skin— this time he swallows, “Who cares how many innocent lives you’ve destroyed as long as you got what you wanted.”

He still doesn’t say a word, doesn’t flinch, doesn’t react. Just stares up at you as you crack, laughing angrily as you take his silence mockingly, “Well, I couldn’t fuckin’ forget you. Eight years. Eight years of living in absolute terror that you’d come back for me.” You’re seething now, eyes wild, breath coming harder and faster than the one before it, “Constantly looking over my shoulder, jumping at every bark of a dog and clink of keys and slam of a car door outside my apartment— do you know how it feels to live like that? Huh? Expecting to die every second of every hour of every goddamn day?”

Another silence drops over the room and it’s just the two of you staring at each other. You’re not even sure why he isn’t fighting back— why he’s just lying there and then it hits you, like a ton of bricks.

Of course he knows what it’s like to live like this. He’s used to it.

A trickle of blood slips down the side of his neck, the singular plop staining the white sheets below, “I’ve never thought about after— once you’re dead. What if I can’t forget you? I’ve spent so long hating you— it’s, it’s like by killing you, I’ll burn your name into my throat, you know? You’ll always just,” you tilt your head, digging the knife in a little harder, “Be there. With me always.”

The funniest thing happens as soon as the words slip through your teeth. His lips start to twitch. Curl into a smile— one where those pearly whites are on display— and then he’s laughing. Like someone just told a fucking joke.

It makes you recoil. Makes you squint and has your face twist in confusion, lips separating as a heavy breath passes through.

“Well,” he finally purrs, the laughter rumbling through his chest dying down, “Go ‘head, honey.”

When you hesitate, he pushes his chin forward, arch’s his head back to put his neck on full display, “Come on, baby. Don’t get my hopes up and not follow through.”

“You’re insane.” You hiss.

He leans up a little, another smile curling onto his lips, “In this business, you gotta be.”

The words stick in air like glue as he settles back into the pillow below his head, blue eyes twinkling underneath the soft neon lights pouring in through the windows.

He’s fucking with you. Just do it. The words echo, knocking around your brain as you stare down at him, blade still shoved into the crease of his neck. Another drop of blood plops onto the sheets below. Your lip snarls slightly, eyes narrowing as heat flashes across your skin again. He’s mocking you. After everything he’s done, all the pain— the fear.

You inhale deep, grip the handle so hard your nails dig into your palm and instinct takes over. The hatred, the built up aggression and vitriol guiding your hand, about to slash that pretty thick neck wide open. You are more than ready to see a deep red stain white sheets and blue eyes lose all of the life he’s built into them and fade away into nothingness. Just when you’re about to make your eight year long dream come true, it all flashes before your eyes.

Within a blink— half of a blink— you're off his lap, slammed up against the wall opposite the bed, warm flesh hand around your throat. You gasp hard, nearly choking on the air you can’t grab as you start to struggle, slapping at his face before swinging the knife wildly.

Bucky catches your arm with ease, squeezing your hand until you’re grunting and hissing in pain, grip relaxing around the metal. You blink again, and your knife is now pressed against your throat as you growl, struggling to no avail.

“You’re lucky baby,” he mutters, “Nobody survives that long while holding a knife to my throat.” He kisses you hard, digging his teeth into your bottom lip to drag it back with him when he pulls away, “You’re a cutie tho, so, you get a little reprieve.”

He leans back in real close, eyes roaming along your face as his head tilts, breathing easy. Staring back at him, lip curling again as you huff hard, angry breaths beating out of your nose. But your hands have come to rest on his arms. You can feel the blood coursing through the vein that’s popped out right down the center of his bicep. Your fingers flex around metal and muscle, goosebumps rising on your skin as the cool air conditioning tickles hot skin.

“Of course I remember you,” he whispers after a long time— too long, “I remember each and every face of the last seventy years,” his eyes bounce between yours, “I knew exactly who you were as soon as you popped up on that stupid dating app.”

Another sharp influx of air squeezes out of your throat when he drags the tip of your knife underneath your chin, down the length of your throat, down your chest. Slips it along your stomach before pushing it into the mesh that covers your chest. A flick of his wrist and you’re bare, the thin material giving way to the blade.

Your chest heaves, eyes wide, lips parting as the tip of that blade scrapes along your skin— right between your tits. Brown eyes drop to his red, wet lips quick, then shoot back to focus on his piercing blues.

“I wasn’t sure at first what you wanted,” he whispers, flattening the blade over a piqued nipple, clinking against the metal bar piercing your thick flesh, “If you recognized me after all this time— I mean, with the new hair and everything.”

A hum sounds at the back of your throat, trembling and airy and Bucky picks it up right away— another smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. The fingers around your throat peel away slowly but he watches you all the while, fire behind his eyes as he tests you.

“You’re a good little actress,” words still soft but full— maybe amazed that you were able to get as close as you did, “But you knew that already, huh?”

You swallow hard, eyes tipping down to watch his fingers drift down your arm. Light little touches, “You have to be when born— ah,” the edge of the knife catches your thick nipple as he slides it across your tit.

He kisses you again, real sweet this time though. Tongue sweeping along your bottom lip as both his encase it, “I’m sorry baby. You were saying?”

Flesh fingers dance along your stomach, sweeping from hip to hip. Just the tips. Feather light drags so you don’t forget about them. His large palm grips your hip, pushes his thumb into the meat of your side and you have to close your eyes— clear your throat to center yourself. To remember why you’re there in the first place.

Sweet breath washes over your face as Bucky rolls your left nipple now into the edge of the blade— kissing you again when you shriek at the quick, sharp pain just to eat the sound. You lose the fingers around your hip, only to find them again suddenly, jumping in slight surprise as calloused pads cup a soft, wet cunt.

Bucky’s still blinking slow, fingers pushing along a swollen clit, massaging. He’s real close now, prickly cheek rubbing against yours, teeth nibbling at your jawline.

Your own fingers dig into his biceps as your eyes flutter with the tightening of your stomach. A warmth starts to spread through your veins. Hips find a little rhythm against his hand. A sharp prick here and there as he circles that knife— your own damn knife— around your tits and back up to your throat again.

That’s when he sinks two long, thick fingers into you, not stopping until his palm is flush with your sticky folds. His thumb pressed against the sensitive little nub at the center of you.

His eyes are slits, head tilted up slightly as his mouth hangs, dragging in the air you expel. Only then does his fingers start to move, delving in and out, thumb still pushing along your clit.

“God,” you pant, pushing your head upwards against the wall, “Mmm, I can’t—” his fingers push deeper and the words are gone, like they never even existed in the first place, “Fuck.”

Bucky pushes the smooth blade against your throat just a little harder— the sharp edge forcing your chin upward a little more. He flattens his thumb against your lower stomach, starts to pull his fingers, not push them. The heel of his palm starts to slap against your skin as you buck into the motion.

Your hands slip up to his shoulders, both arms wrapping lazily around either side of his neck. The soft hum from earlier is replaced with high pitched whimpers and breathy little squeaks. Bitten off words fall from your lips as you squirm against the wall, wanting him deeper, faster, harder— which he delivers without you having to say a word.

He grabs your cheeks, pinching hard as the blade flattens across your pouty lips. A weak, desperate whimper sounds, all your resolve gone. Whatever leverage you thought you had completely wiped away— and it makes a wicked grin spread on Bucky’s lips.

“You close, baby? Hmm?” he hums, licking at your mouth again, “Oh sweet girl, you wanna come, huh? You gonna come for me?”

He strokes your clit with the tip of his thumb, your walls clenching around his fingers. The gentle encouragement continues, real soft and between sweet little kisses all over your face. A dull ache settles in your belly, a thick heat starting to stir within. Your heart leaps into your throat as your hips pump with Bucky’s hand, the release so close you can taste it.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you groan, “‘m gonna fuckin—”

“You want it? Huh? Want me to make you come honey?”

You squeak in response, nodding fast as you bite down into your lip, “Please. Please.”

Heat ripples through your body as you start to tremble, legs going shaky and weak. Muscles start to burn all over as you tense hard, coaxing the sweet agony swirling in your stomach. You cry out, his name hanging on your lips as the rush of it all pushes higher and higher.

Just as you start to unravel, just as the coil begins to snap, his fingers are gone. Pulled from your cunt and clit. You’re whipped around his body, forced back towards the bed. Your mind racing— maybe you’ll be getting some of that cock afterall.

Or not.

Metal slaps around your wrist, bites into the skin as it clamps down, the clink of teeth sliding into the lock housing ringing in your ears. You snap your head towards the sound when it all finally connects in your murky brain. The horror of realization floods into your veins— blood running cold as your stomach drops to your feet.

The handcuffs clink against the dark metal headboard as you fight against it, “You bastard! You fuckin’ piece of shit, let me go!” you shout, thrashing your arm back and forth, pulling as hard as you can, “Goddamn it— let me the fuck go! I’ll fuckin’ kill you, you bast—”

“Ooph,” Bucky jests, octave rising as he slips back into his jeans, “You got a filthy little mouth on you.”

“Fuck you!”

He scoffs, laughing gently as he pulls his black shirt back over his head. The bastard even starts to hum as he plops down on the edge of the bed, taking his time while he pushes his feet back into his boots and shrugs into his jacket.

You keep sharp eyes on him as he stands and turns to face you, dangling a pair of small silver keys next to his grinning face before he tosses them somewhere deep in the apartment. You swipe at him with your free hand as he approaches, just barely catching his chin as he kneals down, “I’m gonna kill you,” you smile, a blind rage engulfing every pore, every muscle, every ounce of your body.

Bucky shrugs, “Not tonight, sweets. Listen, tell Sam I’m sorry about the mess, hm?”

“Who the fuck is Sam?” you hiss.

He looks down at his watch, “Yeah, he should be home in about an hour. It’s not everyday you walk into your apartment to find a naked, wannabe assassin handcuffed to your bed, so, give him my apologies— wait, you know about Sam, right? The new Cap, they made it official a couple of weeks ago.”

Your jaw clenches as you stare back at his smiling face, more humiliation pouring through you as you realize he’s had you pegged the entire goddamn time.

“Oh baby,” he laughs again, “You didn’t honestly think I’d take you back to my place, did you? I don’t even know you— you kids today are so reckless.”

Blue eyes bounce between yours for a few seconds before he glances down at his hands, works them back into his black gloves. He pulls your butterfly knife from his back pocket and starts to play with it, flicking his wrist to close it, and then open it over and over again.

“I’m keeping this,” he offers as he locks it closed and slips it back into his pocket, “Maybe you’ll find the balls to try and take it from me.”

“Oh,” you laugh, shaking your head, “I’m taking it back.”

Bucky stands, the sound of his heavy boots sounding through the apartment as he moves towards the door, “I look forward to it kiddo.”

***

If there’s one thing you respect about Bucky Barnes, it’s his attention to detail.

Right on the dot, exactly one hour later, you snap your head towards the front door as keys start to jingle in the lock. With the bed sheet wrapped loosely around your torso, you straighten up against the wall, eyes wide as you watch an exhausted Samuel Thomas Wilson walk into his apartment.

“Oh, fuck!” he shouts, jumping slightly and dropping his bag to the floor when he locks eyes with you, “What in the fuck?”

“I can explain… sort of.” you start, holding up your hand.

You apparently don’t need to. Sam’s phone is to his ear within seconds as he starts to pace back and forth, “Bucky, this is not why I gave you a key to my mother fuckin’ apartment!”

[whump-a-la-mode]

Hi! First of all, your writing is ASTOUNDING. I adore how you characterize. Secondly, I have a prompt idea:

A Villain who is falling in love with a Hero, but won’t admit it to themself. They stop being able to effectively fight Hero because they don’t want to hurt them. But Supervillain notices, so they capture Hero and use them to lure Villain in.

-Wicky

🥺🥺🥺 Thank you so very much! You just made my day. I thank you for the compliment and the prompt! I sure hope I did it justice, and I hope you enjoy!

CW//Injuries, threats, implied torture

Villain’s world spun as their skull cracked against the rough concrete of the roof. Opening their eyes, their field of vision was filled with only an array of stars.

Everything hurt.

They were convinced, in that moment, that there was not an inch of their flesh that was left unbruised, not a rib left unfractured. Breathing on its own was an ordeal, an ordeal that they endured only out of pure necessity.

Pain rippled through the stocks of jelly they had once called limbs as the villain scrambled first to hands and knees, and finally to their feet, even as unsteady as they were. They could do nothing but gasp as they faced down their opponent.

There was something in Hero’s eyes. Something that even their nemesis, their sworn, life-long foe could not quite name. It was not quite sympathy, no, but it was not quite pity, either. Something inbetween, perhaps, with only the slightest garnishing of regret.

“Come on, Villain.” It was with a pleading tone that the hero spoke, as though attempting to coax a frightened cat down from the top branches of a Redwood tree. “Just stand down! You can’t win this. We have you surrounded. No harm will come to you- No more harm.”

Yet, the villain only shook their head.

For any outsider, the matchup would have looked more like a massacre, waiting to happen. Villain themself was perhaps not the picture of musculature, but what villain was? No, they may not have been the strongest. But everyone knew what power they held in their palms, the lightning they could unleash at will. Enough to topple the building upon which they stood. Enough to topple the whole city, perhaps. The city had yet to so much as see their full potential.

But it was their potential that the villain now refused to use.

Hero, on the other hand, was... well, they weren’t much. As strong as they were, as clever, as smart, superstrength could only do one so much good. Villain could have destroyed them in passing, with the snap of a finger!

Why wasn’t the hero in the nearest emergency room? Even Villain themself wasn’t entirely sure.

“I’m not giving up, asshole!” They snarled, balling their hands to fists. It would be so easy. So very simple to send a torrent of lightning forth, to shock Hero within an inch of their life. Hell, Villain used their powers to make popcorn on the weekends!

But, they couldn’t. They couldn’t imagine Hero, the poor thing, the pitiful little fool, fallen to the ground. The very thought of using their powers against their opponent made them feel sick.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” Hero spoke, eyes wide and glimmering with that same mix of sympathy and regret.

“Too bad.”

And, with that, the rooftop once more became a battleground. Villain surged forward, met in the center by their nemesis. A blow to the side of their head sent them stumbling.

They couldn’t go on like this, they knew as their vision clouded once more with stars. Another hit and they would be unconscious, in the custody of the so-called good guys. They couldn’t do that.

They had two choices.

Three. Three choices.

The first? To take the hit. To bite the bullet, to find themself behind bars.

The second? To hurt Hero. To wipe that oh-so-innocent quiver from their lips. To destroy-

No. They had two options. That wasn’t even on the table. Villain could be beaten, or they could flee.

It was with a shivering gasp that they chose the second.

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Sidekick placed down their fork with a resounding clack. In the silent room, the sound resembled the ring of a gong.

“Are you absolutely certain you’re alright?” They asked with a quirked brow. With the day turning to evening, they had left their sidekick’s uniform behind, replaced now with a casual set of garments. After all, the restaurant at which they were eating was far from fancy. That wasn’t the type of villain that their mentor was.

“Of course I’m alright. Do I look like some kind of ailing senior citizen?” Villain muttered under their breath as they looked over in displeasure at their sidekick. For someone so young, they certainly had a mouth.

“Not now. But on the battlefield last night-”

“I’m fine. I’m up and walking, aren’t I?”

“It’s not about that.” Sidekick shook their head. “It was in the battle. You could’ve taken out Hero easy-”

“Keep your voice down, we’re in public.”

“Sorry.” They lowered their tone. “But, I’ve seen you take Hero out dozens of times. Recently, though, you’ve been all over the place. You can’t even land a single hit! I’m worried. You’ve lost your edge. Up on that rooftop, it was like you were somewhere else entirely.”

Villain had been somewhere else entirely, not that they would ever dare to admit it. They had been lost, hopelessly lost- Lost in the eyes of their damn nemesis.

“I just wasn’t on the ball. Everyone has off days.” They grumbled, turning their embarrassed gaze away.

“Everyone has off days. But you’ve been having an off month! Don’t think I haven’t noticed that it’s just them. Just Hero.”

“They’re getting better.”

“So are you.”

“Really, I’m fine.”

Sidekick reached across the table, placing their palm upon the back of their mentor’s hand, which had unconsciously been balled into a fist.

“You nearly got captured, last night. I don’t know what I’d do without you, Villain. If you’re sick, if something’s wrong, anything at all, you need to tell me.”

Villain suddenly spotted something very interesting on their shoes, and kept their gaze fixed there.

“It’s stupid.”

“Are you sick? Everyone gets sick sometimes, it’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

“Not sick.”

“Then what?”

Villain gritted their teeth.

“Lovesick.”

Sidekick withdrew their hand in shock.

“What?”

“Look, it’s stupid! I don’t know. I shouldn’t be feeling that way about a hero, but- They’re a good person, I swear it. They want to help, and they’re kind, and I just can’t bear the thought of hurting them. What if I changed them? What if I hurt them, and that was what made them lose hope, lose faith? Then that’d be on my shoulders!”

“You’re saying...” Sidekick’s jaw was still ajar in shock. “You’re saying that you can’t fight Hero, because you’re in love with them?”

Villain looked up with a sigh.

“To put it shortly, I suppose.”

The both of them were shocked as a figure appeared next to their table. A sharply-dressed figure with a notepad.

“Are you two ready to order?”

“Yes, my apologies.” Villain cleared their throat. They and their sidekick presented their orders, which the waiter scrawled down with a series of understanding nods.

It was not until that particular waiter disappeared from the dining room that they slipped out of their disguise, and dialed a number into their phone.

“Hey, Boss? You might wanna hear about this.”

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To say Villain was in a bad mood would have been an understatement.

The injuries covering every last inch of their body, too, ached with every step they took. Bruises and beatings rippled, forcing them nearly to limp. Yet, they forced their gait to remain normal, even if it meant pain.

They couldn’t call attention to themself. Not when they were in civilian clothes like this, and not when they were on the streets. Still, they kept their head low and their sweatshirt hoodie up as they went along. No need to stick out in the crowd.

This was the only solace they ever got, after all. When some got frustrated, they would go for a drive in the night. But their vehicle was distinctive enough that that wasn’t an option for the villain.

Instead? They walked, moving along with the crowd as though they were a single fish in a school. Usually, this helped them calm down. Now, however, every step they took only made their thoughts spin more wildly.

First, it was Hero. Hero and their stupid eyes. Then it was Sidekick. It wasn’t that Sidekick had confronted them that made them so worried, it was that they’d noticed at all.

That meant that other people out there might spot their weakness. Might use it as an advantage. Who would it be, though? Hero themself? Or, even-

A gasp rippled through the crowd around them in a wave. Voices shouted and fingers pointed, all in the same direction. Villain wiggled their way out of the crowd in order to see what had caused such fuss.

A billboard. An electronic billboard.

An electronic billboard that no longer housed an advertisement for the latest cellphone or insurance scam. No. Upon the massive thing, multiple stories in height, surely, was broadcasted a video.

“Good evening, and I do apologize for interrupting. But I just had to get my friend’s attention.”

Villain’s breath caught in their throat. They would know that voice even if they had to pick it out of a crowd of thousands.

Most would have expected that two people so similar as Villain and Supervillain would get along, but the reality was just the opposite. Villain couldn’t call themself a good guy, no, but they had ethics. Morals. Real aims to work towards, rather than burning the city down and laughing among the flames.

Supervillain, on the other hand? There was a reason that they were so feared. Their goals were far grander than Villain’s.

To say that they had never been very good friends would be an understatement.

And, now? Now they were enemies. The video projected upon that billboard made that fact certain.

Supervillain themself was not visible in frame-- Perhaps that was lucky for Villain. Seeing that stupid face would have certainly goaded them into destroying the projection outright. Instead, the video displayed a room.

A concrete room, with a chair in the center. A chair that was far from empty.

It was always Hero’s eyes that they could not help but get lost in. Now, that wasn’t a factor. Not when the hero was so tightly blindfolded. Their soothing, calming voice, too, had been eliminated-- the cloth gag in their mouth was already soaked-through with spittle.

Tied to the chair, bound, gagged, and blinded, sat Hero.

“Now, I don’t want a ransom. No, no. I only want to see a dear friend of mine. And it has been oh, so hard to track them down.

So, Villain, dear?”

They shivered at the sound of their name. Their name.

“How about you come to my base, and pick up your little friend, here. Or else, I might just have to do something drastic.”

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For six hours, Villain did not move.

As soon as the broadcast had left the billboard, it had repeated itself upon every news channel that gave half a crap about the metropolis. National news, even international, with subtitles in two dozen languages telling of Supervillain’s threat.

They’d found out. Of course they’d found out.

Villain knew they  should have been furious. They should have strangled Supervillain, strangled Hero, strangled themself! After all, this was all their fault. Falling for a hero, how could they have possibly been so stupid?

Now, they stared. Hands balled to fists in their lap as yet another newscaster explained the same events, over and over again.

“Boss?” Sidekick’s voice was soft, nothing like their usual, nosy self. They sat in a chair behind their mentor, who was seated criss-cross on the floor.

There was no answer.

“Boss... What are you going to do?”

“I can’t leave them.”

“Leave who?”

“Leave Hero. You know what Supervillain is like! They’ll destroy them. Destroy the last good hero in the city.”

“You didn’t want to hurt them.”

“And I don’t want to see them hurt, either.”

“I know you don’t. But it’s all Supervillain has over you. You can just... Leave them, right? It’s not like Hero has any real power over you.”

“No.”

“No?”

“I have to.”

“You don’t!”

Villain stood.

“Yes, I do.” They spun around, stalking towards the room that held their costume. “And I need to wipe that damn smile off Supervillain’s face.”

[whump-town]

Ambushed

Warnings: attempt sexual assault and Emily's potty mouth

No Pairings

Summary: A bathroom break goes very, very wrong

It's whumptober so I have to at least try this month to make things awful. Also, this is for @olivinesea, who has been waiting on this fic for months... maybe longer

Hotch’s order had been for Reid to follow him, that it would be the two of them departing tomorrow morning at four a.m. for Charleston, West Virginia. The way Hotch had marched across the catwalk with his file spoke measures about his mood before his clipped tone did. The second Hotch roughly called his name Reid flinched, looking pleadingly to Emily. Knew he was the target and was pleading with her to find some way to save him. With a sigh of resignation, she leans her head into her palm, knows what she’s about to put herself through for the sake of Reid and Hotch.

If Hotch has a problem with her rather blatant insubordination, he doesn’t say anything about it. He comes in and sees her, her go-bag at her feet and two coffees in hand, and raises an eyebrow. Ultimately, he carries on his path towards their SUV. Sharing not a word just a glance that she takes to his equivalent of a motion for her to follow him. She knows his silence to be of low social battery drained by the early morning and fatigue, nothing personal.

Besides four a.m. is way too early to be talking to anyone.

It gives him time to think, to try and not sour this entire trip with his bull in a china shop mood. He’s just unsettled, has this awful feeling in his stomach that he’s grown accustomed to developing whenever they take cases in the mountains. It’s not that he is afraid of them, this isn’t a matter of ghosts or monsters, but there is so much uncertainty every time you enter them. He spent his entire childhood roaming the Appalachian Mountains, knows them by their many dimensions. Chasing squirrels, knee-deep in rotting leaves every fall. The cooling breeze sweeping through pine needles, snakes striking at ankles. The trees swaying to tunes unrecognizable to his ears. Hearing his mother’s voice calling his name, turning to find nothing but shadows. Knowing someone, something, is watching around every turn.

Quantico is about all the Virginia he can handle, the city nestled warmly where the southern Virginians rarely touch it but northern Virginians are everywhere to be seen. The accents not so thick and the city full of tourists-- people from Pennsylvania, New Jersey, New York, etc. Fewer woods to get lost in.

Charleston?

He’s going to be neck-deep in the mountains everywhere he looks.

Emily’s here so that’s bound to make this whole trip more interesting. With her annoying wit and much to be desired charm. It’s like she can feel him thinking about her. With a yawn Emily sits up in her chair, shooting a sleep-stained scowl at him. She rubs her fists into her eyes, attempting to force herself back to awareness. “That coffee went right through me,” she tells him, clearly annoyed. She’s prone to oversharing but, for some reason, with him, it’s so much worse. He assumes it’s just because she knows it exasperates him. Doesn’t anger him but he typically sighs and shakes his head.

Secretly, he likes it. The way she’ll invade his person like no one else has the courage to. Casually laying across the couch and putting her feet in his lap or leaning against him. Talking like they’re lifelong friends and not two people distantly connected for the last twenty years as enemies, tied together by their hatred for one another. Only recently having learned there’s something more, still a nice enough connection that binds them as friends.

She squirms in the seat, bladder a little too full to be comfortable. The darkness outside consumes every indicator of where they are on the road. She can hardly make out the tree lines and aside from yellow precautionary signs aligning them with the turns on the road, there are only thick, choppy clouds of fog. It’s a little after five-thirty so they still have to be in Virginia. “Where the fuck are we?”

He grunts, furrowing his eyebrows at her explosive fuck cutting so harrowingly through the peaceful silence. It’s not an unusual occurrence, he’s used to the way she effortlessly tears through the walls and caverns he builds up around himself. “Strasburg.”

She groans, “really?” She should have made Reid come on this stupid trip. She could still be in her own bed, pressing snooze and rolling back over. Instead, she’s got to pee so freaking bad and she doesn’t know if Hotch is in one of his “no stops” moods or not. He’s such an asshole about making stops when they’re on the road. “I’ve got to take a leak, boss, so… We’re looking at a bathroom stop soon or new detailing on these seats.” She looks down at the worn seats, runs her fingers over the loose seams and torn fabric. “Not that they couldn’t use it.”

He seems more agitated with her oversharing than with having to stop-- looks like a bathroom break in her future.

She stays silent for a few minutes, just watching what she can from outside her window until the next town comes into view. She shoots him a glance, wonders if he’s actually going to stop, and breathes a sigh of relief when he uses the turn signal, pulling them in that direction. There was no way she was going that long without a bathroom break.

Hotch pulls the car into park, frowning when he sees the lack of lights guiding their path to the gas station and even around the side of the building where he knows the bathrooms are bound to be. Leaving them standing in the dark facing the woods. She’s already unbuckling, moving quickly so she can go pee, but he beats her out of the car. Opens his door first and announces, “I’ll go with you.” She frowns, cuts his back a dirty, confused look but doesn’t say anything.

He’s already standing on her side of the car when she gets out, glaring ahead at the empty field and then towards the woods.

“So you do care,” she mumbles, bumping her shoulder against his. “You don’t want me to get eaten by a bear.”

He grunts, still half-distracted by the darkness and the threat it presents.

She’s imagining him fighting a bear. “You know,” she keeps his pace, curiously looking around as they go. “I think you’re a really tough guy,” she says, “but Hotch vs. A Bear just… I’m rooting for you, really, but I’m not stopping to see who wins. No offense. I think you’d put up a good fight but I think, as a general rule of thumb, watching your friends get mauled to death by Pooh does not fall into the typical bonding experiences that strengthen dynamics.” She’s rambling, not in the same way Reid would have. At least with Reid, Hotch would still likely have the semblance of not only control -- the timing to include himself in conversation -- but also a clue about what the in the world they’re even talking about.

She sees him glare at her and so she glares back, “I said no offense!”

“Go to the bathroom, Emily.”

She smiles as she makes her exit, feeling triumphant with herself. She’d seen that little smirk, not a quirk of lips detectable to the naked eye but the way his eyes had flipped up. Looking to the stars, eyes searching up and away from her. A Hotch smirk and the very best kind.

Distracted by the graffiti all over the walls she hears the faint thump of something outside and humorously wonders if it’s a bear. “Hotch v Bear”, round one, and she’s in the damn bathroom.

While she’s washing her hands her stomach growls and she wonders if he’ll end up following her into the gas station too if she goes in for a snack. The man’s a shadow when he’s worried. She’ll probably try to reach for a snack and find him right underfoot mean-mugging the cashier for no apparent reason. A snack though… She’s starving and maybe if she’s feeling feisty enough she’ll start an argument with him until he gets a snack too. It’ll entertain her for a while.

“Hey,” she frowns when she steps out of the bathroom and finds that he’s not there. Not leaning against the wall like she thought he’d be. “Jesus, did that bear really get the--”

A gun cocks in her ear, slow but unmistakable.

“Slowly put your service weapon on the ground and raise your hands.”

She’s frozen in the spot. Eyes glued to their shadows cast out far around them. Drawn out caricatures of them.

“Do it or I’ll kill your friend.”

It wasn’t a bear.

She reaches for her gun, steady and slow movements. Her fingers curl around the metal and she wonders if she’d be able to move fast enough. That there’s a good likelihood if Hotch isn’t within her line of sight that he’s already dead and if she doesn’t do something she will be too. But she can’t risk it.

“Rob!” the man grabs her gun before she’s got it on the ground. Jerks it back from her grasp. To their left, coming around the section of the building facing the woods and completely dark, another man steps out. He’s younger than she is, probably thirty-fiveish, and dressed in work gear. Jeans that have plaster and paint stains and a t-shirt that is stained to the point of no return. “Get the G-man.”

Rob nods, disappearing just as quickly as he’d appeared.

“Listen--” as soon as she can open her mouth the gun taps the back of her head. A sharp warning followed by the order to shut up. No negotiating then.

A grunt turns both their attentions to the side of the building. Hotch stumbles out before Rob. His hands bound in front of him by rope and when he looks up to find her she watches him blink blood out of his eyes. There’s an open wound across his forehead, blunt force trauma split the skin open and now the wound weeps fat crimson tears down his face. His mouth is taped shut, deep grey cutting into his pale mouth. He’s disoriented enough to fall, tripping over his legs as he’s shoved forward.

Rob keeps a gun pointed at his head the whole time but looks to the man behind her. Waiting for the next instruction and as the man gives them she watches Rob react the same she does. Whatever is happening here Rob is an accomplice but he’s not in charge.

“Walk.”

The gun nudges her forward. She bites back her anger, annoyed with this constant nudging business, but her voice is still laced with it. She can play even-tempered but it’s going to take more control than she wants. But she has to play along. Unless she wants to die tonight or, worse, watch Hotch die. “Where?” she asks “Tell me where I’m walking.”

“The woods,” her answer comes, grunted and annoyed. “Now walk.”

Rob pulls Hotch up to his feet (so he’s stronger than he looks, Emily notes) and pushes him forward again. Hotch manages to stay standing this time, bringing his bound hands to his face to swipe at the blood. The glimpse she gets of his blood-stained fingers is what brings her to motion. To be close enough to inspect the wound herself.

“Straight ahead.”

She steps forward, shivering as the wind blows and she’s reminded that despite it being the middle of June it’s likely only sixty degrees out here. Getting out of the car, she hadn’t been planning on being kidnapped. If she had maybe she would have grabbed her jacket. Her fault, she supposes lack of forethought on her part.

As she steps into his gait, the two of them shoulder to shoulder but not close enough that she thinks Rob or the other man will say anything she glances over at him. A look she means to use to articulate her worry and to ask if he’s forming a plan on how to get them out of this. She’s met with his blood-stained eyes. He doesn’t know how they’re getting out of this. It hits her hard, unforgivingly.

If he’d set his shoulders and sent that haggard, worn look she’d understand he thought they were up against fools not even worth the exertion of escaping from. That the bump on his head pissed him off more than hurt him. Something akin to annoyance would mean he already had his plan, she should wait for the cue. Here, in the place she’s searching for his tactile brilliance, is trauma. He’s locking it down behind walls as quickly as he can but she still sees it. Trapped, they’re trapped and he’s blanking on what to do.

Well, maybe he gets a little leeway. He did get hit in the head.

So, fine, she’ll do it herself.

Can you fight? Dave said it was creepy, the conversations they passed through glances, and now she’s hoping creepy is enough to keep them alive.

He looks back, one glance over his shoulder, and gives a sharp nod.

Good.

Next comes the part she’s not really sure how works. The part where she never actually says anything at all, they just move together. Concisely at the same time. She moves for the unknown man and Hotch knows to go for Rob. Both trusting that the other can handle their target. She can hear Hotch take Rob off his feet at the same time her body smacks into the unknown man. The air is taken from her body, leaving her to pause for a dangerous second as her body fights to get it back. His elbow swings sharply into her cheek, smacking dancing lights behind her eyelids.

She’s trained for this kind of stuff. This shouldn’t be so hard.

It’s a bit of a panic, throwing her hands down. Just punching down blindly and hoping the blows land.

There’s a gunshot-- it takes her too long to recognize the sound. Her ears ring and her body aches. The wrangling limbs, the man underneath her, stops as they all identify who it is overcoming as the largest threat.

It’s Rob, blood-flecked across his face.

Hotch’s blood splattered across his face.

Emily screams, disembodied as she throws herself towards Rob but she’s stopped, grabbed by the hair, forced back down through the leaves, and sticks. The leverage pins her to the man’s chest, both pulled upright. All she can do is stumble back. She’s immobilized by the forearm he presses against her windpipe. “I oughta kill you,” he growls, smacking the gun against her temple. Not enough to draw blood but it cracks, makes the area of her scalp throb. “Stupid fucking bitch,” he pulls her tighter, ignores her fingers scratching at his skin as he cuts off her ability to breathe. “Both of you. I should have just killed both of you in that damn bathroom. Started with the G-man and I could have had hours, until day-light, with you trapped in that bathroom.”

He eases his hold on her not out of preservation of life but in his realization that he’s angry with himself for being so reckless. He and Rob had never had problems before. One woman wasn’t all that hard to control and after seeing Hotch and Emily walking so close, bumping together they thought it could be fun. Force him to watch and see if that makes this any more fun. To see him bargain for her life or sit there lifeless in his resignation that he could do nothing.

But Hotch was stronger than he looked.

“No!” her voice is scratchy from the pressure had against her throat. Combined with her desperation it cracks, pops like roaring embers in a hearty fire. “Stop! You’re killing him! Get off of him!”

Rob has Hotch pinned to the ground, his hands around his throat.

The other man holds Emily still, prevents her from being able to pull herself away. This isn’t how he’d intended for this to go but, he has to admit, this is fairly interesting as well. He’d expected it to be G-man that was forced to break. A big strong guy like him doesn’t take losing well. Feeling Emily shiver and cry in his arms is nice. Her desperation hums in his veins, arousing him in a way he hadn’t anticipated. He doesn’t want to lose that just yet.

“Get off of him, Rob.”

Hotch’s arms are still bound, all Rob had to do was push him over. It was over in a flash, leaving Hotch face down in the dirt one second and watching the trees above him fade out as Rob pushed down harder against his windpipe, his fingers digging into his neck. He couldn’t move. Unable to do anything more than turn and twist his hips, his arms pressed into his groin where Rob had immobilized them the second he threw his hips over Hotch’s.

Rob doesn’t let go, not immediately. He pushes down a little harder, wants to feel the snap of the other man’s neck but his name is called again. This time, not the light order the first had been. Rob doesn’t release Hotch and with an annoyed huff, the other man raises a gun. Emily cries out again, stunned by the gun right by her head, and flinches falls with a crash to the floor when the trigger is pulled. Her head a roaring buzz, trying to swivel its way off her neck. No matter how hard she pressed down on her ears she feels the throbs of pain as if her head was swelling. The world pulsing.

Rob’s dead.

She looks up and she’s looking right into his eyes. Shocked and open, not expecting the betrayal of his partner.

“Hey beautiful,” the other man crouches down beside her. Takes advantage of her confusion, of her shock. Her friend dead. Knowing she’ll follow soon after. “You never told me your name, you know. I’m Mark.” He strokes her hair back from her face, pushes her down to the ground.

Fighting is futile.

She had a chance with Hotch. Their odds nearly even, two against two. Even tied up and bleeding, they’re a threat that can’t be replicated and certainly not by an Unsub. Not one who takes women from gas station bathrooms in the ugly hours of the morning. Not ones dumb enough to take federal officers.

But it’s over.

It’s over and Hotch is dead.

“Don’t cry,” Mark whispers against her throat. He wipes her tears away with the back of his finger, shaking his head and mockingly comforting her. “But,” he holds her head, tenderly cupped in his palm. “You’re so pretty when you cry.”

Emily turns her head from Mark’s hand, finds herself looking at Hotch. His still body, head turned away from her. This is how it ends. Hotch dead and she’s powerless. She’s left his turned cheek, even he can’t bear to see. So she looks to the scar under his ear from New York, the hearing he lost and never fully recovered. A scab from shaving this morning. His hairline, the greys that were popping up around his temples and ear. Still sparse enough that he doesn’t look aged by them. And the blood. The wound Rob inflicted on him in their initial meeting. It doesn’t bleed now, it hadn’t been agitated in their fight. Color had started to creep into its edges, bruising to further demonstrate its anger in having been disturbed so violently.

Now he’s just dead.

She tries not to make a sound when Mark gets her pants undone, tries to make out unaffected. His hand cups at her hip, cold fingers curled around her. There’s a certain level of invisibility she’d felt on the other side of the yellow tape. After years of having used her body to get things, to win Ian Doyle’s trust and eventually his secrets, she’d thought herself too clever for this. Got too comfortable, perhaps. Surrounded by the likes of Hotch and Dave and Spencer and Derek. How many times had she stripped down to just an undershirt, leaned in too close over one of their shoulders just because she felt comfortable? Knew they wouldn’t hurt her.

But she’s losing.

After all the ways she’d won, all the ways she’d found victories in men’s selfish desires, and now she’s laying in the woods. She’s losing.

She’s going to die too.

But she doesn’t.

She jerks, unprepared for the sudden sharp pain across her temples. Her hands coming up to protect her ringing ears and not expecting the dead weight of Mark over top her. She writhes away, feels something hot and wet landing on her breast, sliding down her ribs. Sticks and rocks push against her shoulders but she fights with a terrified panic, crying in her blinding fear. Her fist connects hard with an audible crack of bone against bone and everything stops.

She pushes herself up and back, the back of her hand swiping through blood and sweat across her face. Leaves give beneath her, too slick with dew to hold properly as she moves backward. Sticks dig into her skin. Rocks turn over as she kicks them. Until she’s got an actual picture of what’s happening. Until her brain can work over details.

Mark is on his chest. His head split open, a terrifying weeping wound. Shot.

“Hotch?” she’s removed. Only partially aware of things as she takes them in. Of Mark’s death. Of the damp ground beneath her. Of the chill in the air. Of her own pounding heart. Of Hotch laid out on his back, eyelashes fluttering but open. Gasping sounds -- from her and from Hotch. His chest rising quickly with his shallow breathes.

Her knees scream smart pain as rocks and twigs dig into her flesh, deadened leaves chilled by the night’s air seeping through the material of her pants. She doesn’t even realize she’s moving, it’s automatic. It’s uncontrolled. “Hotch?” she touches his cold skin, taps at his cheek an indistinct beat she hopes will raise him from whatever unconscious solace he’s found. He breathes, shallow but audibly as his body tries to work again.

She touches his throat, grazes her fingers against miserable, chilled skin. He’s alive. Despite all the odds. Despite what she’d seen. Alive.

She cries as she leans forward, pressing their temples together. Cheek to cheek, their cold skin warm against one another. “I thought you were dead,” she sobs, fully allowing herself now to break. To feel the terror and isolation she’d felt thinking he was gone. Killed right in front of her. “You fucking bastard,” she holds onto his clothes, feels his hand come up and his fingers fumble to grasp her. To feel her alive and well. “I thought you were dead.”

He lets out a huff of breath, as close to relived laughter as he can manage. “Me too.”

She pulls back just enough to look down at his face, his pale lips twitching up and the blood caked across the side of his face. “I’m never going on a road trip with you again,” she says.

He nods, breathlessly whispering, “fair.”

She shivers, the breeze picking up. “Can you walk?” They can’t be that far from the car. She’s already pushing her hands into his pants pockets before he can answer, in search of the keys. Distracted to the point that she misses when he shakes his head. When he admits things are a little worse than what she thinks. “What do you mean--” and she looks down, his left hand shakily lifting off his abdomen.

“Shit!” she pushes his hand back over the wound. The first thing that comes to mind is to ignore the problem but that’s not very rational. “Why couldn’t it have been a bear?” That seems like it really beats watching him bleed out in the woods. She lowers her head, turns away from him for a second. She can’t lose her cool. He just saved her and now she has to return the favor. At this point, she refuses to go home without him.

Her earlier remark about bonding has aged like milk.

Something cold nudges her hand just faintly grazes her fingers. Despite everything they’ve been through in the last hour she still flinches, tries to move her hand away from what she suspects is a spider. There are sticks poking her back and ass but she’ll be damned if she’s going to become a jungle gym for a spider to crawl all over. Except she looks down and finds fingers, Hotch’s right hand pushing at her fingers.

It’s candy. Slowly, trying to find her courage and work through her panic, she lifts her palm back up. Looks at the stark contrast of his white mint on the decaying leaves.

She laughs.

They say nothing and yet they share an entire conversation. All glances, his pain pinching at the corners of his eyes, fatigue weighing him down quickly, and her slight humor over his grandpa candy. The mint is crushed, it hadn’t survived their rough journey well. “Are you trying to tell me my breath stinks?” she asks, tilting her head and raising an eyebrow to dare him. A playful sort of smirk on her lips as she declares, “Because I swear to God, I’ll punch you in the balls, Hotch.”

He smirks and as he opens his mouth a branch cracks, a flashlight shines right into their eyes.

“Hands up!”

Emily raises her hand to cover her eyes, wincing. “We’re -- We’re federal agents!” The flashlight lowers just a bit, enough so that she can see it’s a man standing before her.

“Your buddy hurt?” he asks.

Emily looks down, Hotch is already looking back at her. He’s shivering now and she knows whatever is about to happen is all on her. “Shot,” she answers. “Some guys they… they ambushed us? Dragged us out here.”

The man nods, “can he walk?”

She looks back down, Hotch’s eyes sinking shut, fighting to stay open. “I -- I don’t know? Maybe?” No. No, but she’ll drag his ass out of here if she has to.

“Alright,” the man steps forward, and Emily tenses. “I ain’t gonna hurt you little lady but you ain’t getting that big fella up without some help.”

Hotch remembers very little of what happens next. Standing seems to pull all of the blood from his body, at least there isn’t any in his head. Everything is confusing, a strange man is on his left and Emily on his right. He wakes up in a truck bed, rocking back and forth. His head in Emily’s lap and the cold wind grabbing at the blanket pulled under his chin. “We’re almost there, Hotch. Just hold on.” But she sounds like she’s underwater. Far away.

And then everything is still.

“And that’s how I saved us.”

He follows the sound of the voice over to his right, to Emily. She’s sitting up in bed, legs curled underneath her. There’s a chunk of gauze taped to her temple but she’s not wearing a hospital gown. She looks good, nearly restored to the Emily Prentiss he’s used to seeing around the office. The others are gathered around her, Dave smirking at what must have been a rather grandiose retelling of what happened.

“Technically,” he rasps, “I saved you first.”

Emily’s face betrays the first thing she feels hearing him. He’s been laying there for four days, unresponsive. He’d been on a ventilator the first two days. Throat nearly swollen shut from Rob’s attack, bruised badly. But now his eyes are open and he’s challenging her, picking a fight having been awake a whole minute. She's weirdly thrilled to see him glaring at her, too high and too exhausted to hide it.

“Are we really going to start keeping score?” she asks.

His eyes burn, they’re too heavy to keep open. He lets them slide shut, smirking still. A moment passes, maybe longer, and he feels a hand take his. Plastic sitting uncomfortably against his palm. It takes him a moment, the drugs trying so hard to pull him back under. It’s the mint he’d given her.

She doesn’t smile now, they share no knowing glances.

He hums, closing his hand around the mint.

“Considers us even,” she whispers.

He manages to crack his eyes open just a sliver, voice is completely gone but she just barely make out what he says: “not a chance.”

[just-dreaming-marvel]

It’s Always Been You ~ 146

OUT OF TIME MASTERLIST

IT’S ALWAYS BEEN YOU MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 2,180ish

Summary: The team returns from the time heist.

Notes: You must read Out Of Time in order to understand this. The chapter numbers continue from Out Of Time. (gifs are not mine)

Everyone landed on the platform in the same place they had left. They were all looking around, checking over each other. Y/N immediately felt a sense of deed sadness.

“Did we get them all?” Bruce asked.

“You telling me this’ll actually work?” Rhodey added.

Clint fell to his knees. He was all wet with a dazed look in his eyes.

“No,” Y/N gasped, coming to the realization of what happened. She shook her head and stumbled backwards, Tony quickly coming to steady her. “No.”

“Clint, where’s Nat?” Bruce carefully asked.

Clint looked down, tears rolling down his face, silently giving them the answer. Y/N began crying into Tony’s neck as he tried to comfort her. Bruce fell onto his knees and hit the floor in grief. Slowly, each person walked off the platform and heading to their rooms. To change, to mourn… Those who had a Stone, dropped it off in the lab, where Rocket said that he would watch them until everyone was ready.

Tony was practically carrying Y/N has they headed to their room. By the time they arrived, her cries were simply small sniffles and hiccups. They worked together in silence, helping get other change. There was nothing sexual about it, just incredibly intimate. Like they were both making sure the other was alright and that they were actually okay. Once done, Tony pulled Y/N in for a loving kiss, making sure it was gentle and that he was pouring all the words he couldn’t say into it.

Holding each other close, they headed out to the dock, where they already saw Clint there. The other original Avengers soon joined them, all grieving the loss of their friend. Steve was seated on a bench, tears slowly trailing down his cheeks. Tony was next to him, standing with one foot on the bench. The others were around the dock, each looking out on the water.

“Do we know if she had family?” Tony wondered.

“Tony—“ Y/N sighed.

“Yeah. Us,” Steve responded.

“What?” Thor asked, confused.

“Huh?” Tony responded.

“What are you doing?”

“I just asked a question—“

“Yeah, you're acting like she's dead. Why are we acting like she's dead? We have the Stones, right? As long as we have the Stones, Cap, we can bring her back, isn't that right?” Thor growled. “So stop this shit. We're the Avengers, get it together.”

“We can’t get her back,” Clint stated.

“Wha—what?”

“It’s can’t be undone.” He glanced Y/N’s way, who was clinging to herself and not looking at the others. “It can’t.”

Thor dryly laughed. “I'm sorry. No offense, but you're a very earthly being. Okay? We're talking about space magic. And "can't" seems very definitive don't you think?”

“Yeah, look, I know that I'm way outside my pay grade here. But she still isn't here, is she?”

“No, that’s my point—“

“It can't– be undone. Or that's at least what the red floating guy had to say. Maybe you wanna go talk to him, okay? GO GRAB YOUR HAMMER, AND YOU GO FLY AND TALK TO HIM!” Clint’s anger quickly changed back to grief. “It was supposed to be me. She sacrificed her life for that goddamn Stone. She bet her life on it.”

“Y/N?” Steve called. She inhaled sharply, already knowing what was about to be asked. “Is there anything you can do?”

“The Stones are powerful,” Y/N whispered, not making a move to face anyone just yet. “And I am powerful with the Stones. But…” She slowly turned around. “But I cannot bring her back.”

In a sudden burst of anger, Bruce grabbed a bench and hurled it across the water. “She’s not coming back,” he said, looking at the others. “We have to make it worth it. We have to.”

Steve stood, determined. “We will. We need to get those Stones in the glove.”

They all started heading inside, except Y/N. Tony and Steve both paused, sharing a look before glancing Y/N’s way. The others kept going back to the compound and they went back to Y/N.

“I should have known…” she whispered, looking down at her feet as she hugged herself. “I should have known more and been able to warn her… I should have been the one to go.”

“No!” Tony quickly said, moving to hold onto Y/N’s arms. “Nat knew what she was doing.”

“Whatever it takes,” Steve added. “She did just that.”

“When I was first told a little bit more about the Soul Stone,” Y/N started, “I was told the price to receive it… A soul for a soul… I never understood what that meant until now.”

“You can’t blame yourself,” Tony said. “You can’t. And Natasha would be furious if she found out you were doing this.”

“The only thing we can do now is bring everyone back,” Steve added. “To make her sacrifice worth it.”

“Bringing everyone back won’t stop what I know is coming,” she whispered, looking up at the men with teary eyes. “I don’t know how to stop it from coming… I don’t even know how I’m supposed to end it…”

“Doesn’t matter,” Steve said, shaking his head. 

“What? But you—”

“I know what I said before, and I’m taking it back now. It doesn’t matter what happens or how, as long as we have each other and stand together. A family.” Steve grabbed onto your hand. “Together.”

“I’m with the old man,” Tony added, taking your other hand and placing a hand on Steve’s shoulder. “Together.”

~~~

The Team watched as Y/N carefully handled each Stone and placed it into the nanotech glove Tony had created. She was inside a glass room, just in case. They were mesmerized at Y/N’s ability to control the Stones. She never physically touched them, but the levitated each one into its spot. Once the last one was placed, Y/N turned and gave Tony a slight nod, signaling it was time. Carefully caring the glove, Y/N came out of the room and set the glove on a table. She glanced around, noticing that everyone had suited up.

“Alright. The glove’s ready,” Rocket stated. “Question is, who’s gonna snap their freaking fingers?”

“I’ll do it,” Thor quickly offered.

“Excuse me?” Scott questioned.

“It’s okay.” He headed towards the glove, everyone rushing to stop him.

“No, no, no, whoa.” / “Stop.” / “Wait a sec.” / Hey, hey.”

“Wait, wait, Thor, just wait,” Steve said. “We haven't decided who's gonna put that on yet.”

“I'm sorry. What, we're just sitting around waiting for the right opportunity?” Thor questioned.

“We should at least discuss it,” Scott replied.

“No, no, sitting here staring at that thing is not gonna bring everybody back. I'm the strongest Avenger, okay? So this responsibility falls upon me. It's my duty.”

“It’s not about that—“ Tony tried, stepping in front of his friend.

“It's not that– Stop it! Just let me!” Thor teared up. "Just let me do it. Just let me do something good. Something right.”

“Look– It's not just the fact that that glove is channeling enough energy to light up a continent, I'm telling you, you're in no condition.”

“What do you– What do you think is coursing through my veins right now?”

“Cheez Whiz?” Rhodey commented. 

“Lightning.”

“Yeah,” Tony sighed.

“Lightning won't help you, pal. It's gotta be me,” Bruce said. “You saw what those stones did to Thanos. It almost killed him. None of you could survive.”

“How do we know you will?” Steve asked.

“We don’t. But the radiation’s mostly gamma. It’s like… I was made for this.”

“Y/N?” Steve turned the attention onto his sister. “You’ve been awfully quiet through all this.”

Y/N sighed, taking a look at the Stones. “This is not where I wield them…” She responded, whispering. “I think…” She turned to look at Bruce. “I think you’re right, Bruce. You were made for this.”

“Okay then.”

“Good to go, yeah?” Tony wondered.

“Let’s do it,” Bruce responded.

“You remember– everyone Thanos snapped away five years ago and just bringing them back to now, today. Don't change anything from the last five years.” Y/N and Tony shared a look. They couldn’t lose Morgan.

“Got it.”

Everyone circled around Bruce and the glove, but not too close. They were all suited up, preparing for what could possibly happen. Y/N was behind Tony, beside Clint. Tony had his suit on and had a shield formed in front of them.

“FRIDAY, do me a favor and activate Barn Door Protocol. Will you?” Tony requested.

“Yes, boss,” FRIDAY answered, with the whole compound quickly locking down.

Bruce walked up to the gauntlet. “Everybody comes home,” he whispered. Y/N could hear his thoughts adding something, “Even Nat.”

The gauntlet’s nanobots expanded themself to fit around Bruce’s hand as he slipped the glove on. A power surge immediately overwhelmed him, causing him to grunt in pain and get down on one knee.

“Take it off! Take it off!” Thor panicked.

“No, wait!” Steve ordered, holding out a hand to Thor. “Bruce, are you okay?"

“Talk to me, Banner,” Tony added.

“I’m okay,” Bruce responded, clenching his eyes shut as he nodded. “I’m okay.” Thor gave him a double thumbs up.

“Help him,” the Stones whispered to Y/N.

“How?” She responded.

“Will us to do your bidding. Use us. Help him with the pain.”

Y/N’s hands moved ever so slightly as she concentrated on the Stones. There’s was almost an immediate difference in the amount of pain Bruce was in. The only problem now was that Y/N was feeling it. She let out a small whine of Y/N, causing Clint and Tony’s heads snap to look at her. Their eyes widened when they noticed her hands glowing.

“What is she doing?” Clint asked.

“Y/N?” Tony called, panicking. “Y/N?!”

“Stark!” Steve said. “What’s going on over there?”

“We don’t know!”

“She’s taking my pain,” Bruce said. “I have to hurrying and do this before it’s too much for her.”

Grunting, Bruce lifted up his hand and snapped his fingers. He fell back, panting, and the glove slid off his hand. Clint kicked it away. 

“Bruce!” Steve exclaimed, everyone rushing to him but Y/N. She was standing, trying to catch her own breath.

“Don’t move him,” Tony ordered, noticing the burns the Stones left. He began to spray nano particles on his arm.

“Did it work?” Bruce asked.

“Worth a shot,” Steve responded.

“It’s over,” Thor comforted. “It’s okay.”

Suddenly, there was a thud. They looked in the direction to see Y/N unconscious on the ground.

“Y/N!” 

Steve and Tony rushed to her side, Tony carefully cradling her. Him and Steve looked over her, trying to see if there was any visible sign of what was happening.

“Come on, honey,” Tony pled. “Don’t do this now.”

Clint, who had been watching the couple, was suddenly distracted by his phone ringing. Looking at it, there was a picture of his wife. Shakily, he picked it up and answered it.

“H-honey,” he struggled to speak from sheer happiness, “Honey.”

At the same time, Scott had walked towards the outside window, noticing the new plants and birds.

“Guys!” Scott yelled. “I think it worked!”

But before any celebration could be had, an array missiles hit the compound. Causing everyone to fly in different directions.

~~~

“What the hell am I doing here?!” Y/N exclaimed. She had woken up in the Mirror Dimension, alone. “I need to see if it worked! If we brought everyone—“

“Everyone’s back,” Dr. Strange said, speaking up from behind her.

Y/N spun around. “Tell me what’s going to happen. I know you saw every detail of it. So tell me!”

The doctor shook his head. “I can’t.”

“You know that I could just get into your head, right? Figure it all out?”

“But you won’t. And the Stones won’t allow it anyway.” He came closer. “Are you prepared for the fight ahead?”

“I am.”

“Y/N, this is serious. Are you prepared?”

She gave in. “Honestly, I don’t know.”

“Follow your instinct, follow the Stones.”

“I hate those damn Stones.”

“I know. But they’re the only way to end this. And you’re the only one who can.”

“Before we part… before whatever happens, happens… please, tell me this… does Tony survive?”

“Y/N, I can’t.”

“Stephen, does Tony survive? I can not let my child grow up without at least one of her parents. Please tell me that he survives this.”

Strange frowned. “Who said you wouldn’t?”

“I’m not planning on it. So I need him to.”

“I can’t tell you.”

“Then promise me that you’ll keep him safe. That you won’t let him stop me from doing what I have to do. Knowing him… he’ll try everything he can to keep me safe. Even if that means stepping in the way of what I have to do… So promise me, Stephen, please. Protect him as much as you can.”

“I promise.”

next chapter >

I appreciate all likes, comments, asks, and reblogs! Thank you for all the positive support!

If you want to be added to the tag list, please dm me or send in an ask.

IT’S ALWAYS BEEN YOU TAG LIST:

BOTH:

@23victoria​

@azure23x​

@booknerd-3000​

@thewidowsghost​

@tuttifuckinfruttifriday​

@i-dumb-bitch​

@marinettepotterandplagg​

@booksarebae2000​

@roxytheimmortal​

@love-couldbe-my-weakness​

@bellamy-barnes​

@loveisallyouneed1125​

@paintballkid711​

@stuckupstucky​

@austynparksandpizza​

@sydney-m​

@fangirl-swagg​

@livinglikebritishroyalty​

@cspr-2​

@supernaturallover2002​

@laic2299​

@aubreeskailynn (won’t link)

@capstopavenger​

@bestofbucky​​

@irishfaulk97​​

@a--1--1--3​

@marauvdersfate​

@hallecarey1​​

@mjaudrey​

@osugahunnyicedtea​​

TONY:

@bispences (won’t link)

@topstory21​

@supernatural-bangtanboys​

@marvellover04 (won’t link)

@rapunzelskywalker1234 (won’t link)

@theofficialzivadavid​

@emmuut​

@mikariell95​

[anothertimdrakestan]

hello please may i request the batboys proposing to their s/o 🥺 those marriage hcs were real cute and they just got me thinking u know. thank u 🖤

How The Batfam Prosposes To Their S/O HC

ofc! thank you! check out the marriage hc HERE! this req is beyond adorable and i tried to live up to the cuteness 🥰

Dick Grayson:

- dick would be SO EXTRA dude

- he'd get all your loved ones, family, friends etc and bundle up his whole family and have them waiting to suprise you

- he seems like a proposing on your anniversary so you don't expect it guys

- if you're down for slightly public stuff he'd take you to a theme park like disneyland and you'd both spend the day with your loved ones watching tim and dami bicker over the fastest way to get to the most rides or your best friend totally simping over jason and him flirting like a motherfucker, hand in hand with dick, just happy that there's finally a perfect day where everyone is together

- imagine going up on a huge rollercoaster and dick whispering all his favorite moments with you as the cart ticks up a massive hill

- then right before the drop, dick turns to you, "what i'm really asking is: marry me y/n" and the ride drops, you screaming yes as you zoom down the massive hill and do loop de loops, your happy tears flying all over the place

- the picture they take when you drop shows you cry-screaming while dick grins like an idiot

- getting off the ride dick's brothers and your loved ones are bouncing off the walls "WHAT DID YOU SAY" y/b/f screeched as soon as you come out from the ride

- with one hand you held up the printed picture of you screaming with "she said yes!" written on the top and with the other hand you held up a brand new, gorgeous ring siting snuggly on your finger

- the rest of the day is spent hand in hand with dick, you keep walking around saying "look how pretty my ring looks next to this!" or "WAIT LET ME TAKE A PICTURE WITH MY HAND OUT" and you both get tons of adorable candid photos with various disneyland/theme parks places and items that you'll be treasuring forever

Jason Todd:

- texting jason that your boss suprisingly let your team off work a couple hours early you both made plans to meet at home for dinner together and a night in, a rarity recently with how busy you were finishing school and having a job while he had red hood duties

- coming back to your shared home there were rose petals trailing you into your bedroom, and a huge paper screen blocking you from seeing the kitchen or your dining room, but you wanted to let jason have his fun so you followed the petals

- on your bed was the outfit that makes you feel like a hot bitch and a note saying "hey angel, put this on then open the laptop" and you complied

- as soon as you put in your login a video titled "to the love of my life" which was pretty sappy for jason, but you clicked anyway

- a roughly edited video shows jason sitting down, his cheeks slightly tear stained as he says "y/n i've loved you with everything and more, more than i ever knew was possible. you taught me i deserved to be loved and you showed me how to live life to the fullest" as he continued you felt tears start to brim, jason was always more of an actions guy so these words meant everything to you

- the video was so intensely personal it had you openly crying at the end when jason smiled at the camera "hey love, you're probably crying right now - i know that because i love you beautiful. so, care to come back outside now?" the video ended and you got up, realizing what was about to happen

- at the end of your hallway was jason, dressed in a suit, his cheeks stained with tears like yours, holding out his hand for you

- trying not to fall apart you stumbled into his embrace while he kissed your head, pushing you back slightly to get on one knee with a cheesy grin

- "i didn't think i'd ever get to do this, you know i always think in the negative, but with you everything is good. so be my good, forever. be my better half, my favorite thing, my home, my girl, forever. marry me y/n" unable to speak through all the flooding emotions you just nodded, letting out an excited squeak as jason grabbed your hand, sliding a ring on the finger

- leading you into the dining room jason had whipped out his expert chef skills and made an amazing dinner, and the two of you spent the night reminiscing on old memories, hoping for amazing future moments, and just relaxing in each other's embrace

Tim Drake:

- tim is not smooth let's be real, and when you've been with him for all those years he physically cannot keep a secret from you so you knew something was up when he actually set aside 5 hours for a date night, uninterrupted

- it took about 3 tries to get dick to break and admit tim was planning on proposing that night, you expected it soon, neither of you were big on suprise public moments and were super open in communicating and had both agreed that this year was the best to finally get engaged, tim always wanted to make you feel safe and this would be no different so you weren't worried

- taking careful notice to apply only waterproof mascara you were ready for a tear filled night with the love of your life

- during the fancy dinner you were jittery and excited waiting for a ring in your pasta or a note under your napkin, but nothing, and tim was acting normal as ever, making you think he'd aborted the mission

- it was always fun having a private dinner with tim, he loved to rent out the roof of gotham building and gettting a private dinner served on top of the world, making you feel like the only person in the world

- as you finished cracking jokes, telling stories, and overall just loving each other's presence you got up and went to head down when tim grabbed your hand, pulling you into a hug whispering "ready for a little suprise my love?" while your breath caught in your chest as almost on cue a helicopter landed on the other side of the top of the building

- wind whipping around tim kept your hand in his, helping you in and securing you, putting on your headset and giving your cheek a quick peck 

- as the helicopter took off you saw gotham from god's eye view, watching as it got smaller, melting into the last few rays of sunlight, tim gave your hand a squeeze as he said "the view's almost as pretty as you y'know" with your favorite cheesy grin

- as the helicopter turned giving you a perfect view of the setting sun tim began his speech, pulling your hands into his, "y/n through every up and down you've been there, i always thought i wasn't wanted until i met you and i can never repay you for everything you've taught me, i'd give you the world if i could, but i think the next best thing is giving you me. in every moment i promise to be yours, your sidekick, your partner in crime, your secret keeper, and your lover. i will always be yours, no matter what. and tonight i'm asking you to be mine, will you marry me y/n?"

- you nodded vigorously as tim pulled out a velvet box, opening to take out a beautiful ring, slipping it on your finger while you pushed away tears

- the helicopter dropped you both off outside of gotham at one of jason's safe houses that tim had transformed into a little one night home, and it was far enough outside of gotham that you could see the stars, laying on the roof as tim listed off various constellations and you both whispered about your future together, hand in hand with your other half for the rest of your life

Damian Wayne:

- when damian told dick his plan to just ask you to marry him during patrol he got a whole lecture about the importance of making it a memorable moment and blah blah blah so damian really wanted to live up to this "life changing moment" where he's not even marrying you just asking you as if after all these years you'd suddenly say no

- so that's how you ended up packed into one of bruce's cars with titus and damiwn driving to a supposedly beautiful hiking trail

- you were genuinely concerned for damians mental health because every time there was traffic or titus needing a rest stop he looked like he was going to burst a blood vessel

- once there the hike was serene, the three of you trekking up a beautiful mountain surrounded by the fresh air

- during a particularly sweaty patch you lazily took off your shirt, hoping to get a little cooler, you normally trained in a sports bra and leggings anyway so it wasn't weird until damian refused to take his shirt off too. as you and titus sprinted forwards you teased dami "love bird i can see you sweating cmon!" but he continued to refuse and you let it go

- you'd both slowed down to a walking pace as you rounded to the top of the mountain, the view was beyond beautiful and you plopped down on the crest of the mountain, using damians lap as a pillow while titus sprawled across the both of you

- as damian mindlessly played with your hair, lightly tugging it as he stayed deep in thought you took a moment to really appriciate your boyfriend

- he's eyes shone and his jawline was slightly hardened in a way that shows he was busy in thought, your eyes traced down from his perfect lips to his neck, where you noticed a thin white string hanging around his neck slipping down behind his shirt. without thinking, and before dami could react, you tugged the string out of his shirt, a golden band with a perfect diamond met your eyes before damian could stop you from seeing it

- "d-damian is that what i think it is" you whispered, sitting up to face him while he blushed

- "beloved, i was trying to think of the words to say but you're always three steps ahead of me aren't you" he whispered, untying the string with ease and slipping the ring off of the string, he stared at the ring unable to make eye contact with you "everything i do is for you my love, and though i don't quite understand why cementing it in the eyes of a government is important, if it means i can love you for my entire life i will do anything. so please my love, my best friend, my favorite girl, marry me beloved" he finished, swallowing harshly to fight back the rogue feeling to cry

- you did not hold back. letting tears slip out while he put the ring on your finger you flung yourself into his arms and he relaxed in your embrace, titus beginning to lick your face clearing the tears while you giggled, truly on top of the world with damian, forever and always

a/n: these all got so sappy ahcowkfjr i'm such a fluff monster omg... anyways! i tried to keep them fun and interesting but i definitely air with damian on the side of thinking proposals are slightly overhyped and as an anxious bean i already get scared at the idea of everyone looking at you no matter how in love you are haha so all the proposals were kinda personal i hope that's okay lolzzz anywho! love you hope you enjoyed!

[all-about-seggs]

The Game of Three-

Rating : 18+, Explicit

Word count : ~ 3K

Pairing : Geto Suguru x female reader x Mahito

Warnings : Mirror sex, dub con, gaslighting ( kind of, like I wanted to add it but not sure if I did it right), Fingering, Cunnilingus, degradation (slight), voyeurism, choking, threesome near the end.

A/n: When describing Suguru's place I totally went into weeb mode and used traditional Japanese terms but I tried to define them to the best of my abilities so y'all won't get confused and I put the link of their pictures in their name as well, so you can check them out if you want.

The red clouds above you parted to reveal the cerulean blue sky, painting the engawa in front of you in its hues. Giving a quick look over to the now clean surface beneath your feet, you made your way to the supply closet to put the mop back.

It's been a few uneventful months since you got employed as one of the only two maids in the entire manor. It was fairly big, atleast for just one person, and minimally decorated so it wasn't that hard to keep the entire place clean even with the two of you. The other maid was a nice old lady who showed you the way around the place and how to do what when you were just starting out.

The manor was quite, most of the time, even with your boss's guests staying over for a couple of days, the place lacked any sort of liveliness much less talking. Just a few more hours until your evening shift is over, you mused to yourself roaming around the garden to feed the pond's fish their dinner as the sun began its descent. Mindlessly, you kept looking around the area until one of the rooms caught your eye. On your right you saw the silhouette of your employer through the thin Shoji door that coverd his room.

Having finished bathing, you saw his toned mascular arms slipping out of his thin bath yukata that contrasted to the one he usually donned, his elegant movements accentuated by the growing darkness the evening provided. His daily outfit was nothing if not modest, covering his body from head to toe, leaving everything to the imagination but right now the delicious shape of his body was on full display, making it harder for you to move.

It wasn't until his form moved closer to the door, that you realised how badly your current actions could effect the job you were given. Just the thought of yourself getting fired after being considered a peeping tom made your breath quicken and not in a good way. The panic surging through your veins momentarily turned your mind blank, making you stumble until the heel of your foot slipped on one of the algae coated rocks. Clenching your butt cheeks you braced yourself for the impact but the efforts proved pointless as the considerably shallow pond's bottom made full contact with your body.

Pain aside, the cold water of the pond was what added most to your immobility until you heard footsteps heading towards you. Looking up from your seated position, the tall figure of your boss, maybe ex boss, loomed over you. He extended one elegant hand towards you.

" Are you okay.....?", His soft tone carried nothing but gentleness but being a mess, both physically and mentally, it took you sometime to process what he had said. Hesitation was clear in your actions as you meekly let him pull you up. His grip on your arm was firm and with how easily he pulled you out of the pond showed his Zephyr-like nature had a brute strength underneath. Threads of wet, black hair covering the sides of his well sculpted face, reached all the way to his mid- back. His usual heavy garb was replaced with a single, cotten yukata which were damp in every places his hair touched.

"Y/n...... Was it?, Can you stand", putting both his hands on your shoulders he peered at your face, you still for a moment, too fascinated by his slitted eyes to look away. This was the first time you two had a real conversation so you forced yourself to speak,

" Oh...umm, I'm sorry! I didn't payed attention to the slippery rocks and fell,.....but I'm okay! So..... Yeah... thank you", it was difficult to keep your voice steady, not wanting to reveal your obviously perverted BUT unintentional peeping. Yup. That's what you kep telling yourself although his secretive smile told you that your poor lie didn't make the cut.

" I see, so tell me y/n dear.....", His hands on your shoulders gripped them a little tighter as he leaned down until his face was right in front of yours, " where exactly were you paying attention to?", The question was simple, nor did it had any threatening undertones but your throat still felt clogged. It was too embarrassing, telling your boss that you were shamelessly ogling at his silhouette changing clothes. One second, two seconds, a lot of seconds passed with you playing dumb until you heard a soft sigh.

" Alright...... If you don't want to tell me, I'll let it go........for now", emphasizing the now, he took your cold hands in his warmer ones, leading you inside his room. You were still drenched, hesitating to climb on the perfectly dry floor of his room,

"It's okay..... I'll go ask for a change of clothes so you sit here, better than the outside right?," Smiling, he disappeared down the hall. The whether wasn't cold, so you didn't have to worry about getting sick but you still reeked of fish and algae, making a change of cloths a better option. You could chid yourself for it but looking at the things in his room can't be considered peeping so you turned around from your sitting position, taking in your surroundings.

His room was relatively normal, just like rest of the manor, the furnishing was minimal, a low chabudai with a few soft looking zabuton around it, a wooden cupboard, the slightly elevated tokonoma on the right side of the room had a full body sized mirror, along with a couple of other tiny decoratives. Nothing stood out with everything in place, your boss sure had simple tastes, you thought to yourself when the door slided again, when the owner of the room itself entered.

He was empty handed , earning a questioning look from you, " it's gonna take a few more minutes to find women's clothing, I hope you don't mind, for the time being....", He walked over to cupboard, producing a towel out of it.

" Use this to dry yourself", handing you the towel he kneeled beside you, he was being so nice, you hadn't expected him to be so kind but you gratefully accepted it. When you began drying your hair, you felt his eyes on yourself, pointed and unnerving. You gulped, feeling like he could see right through your head, just waiting for you to fess up on your own. You were lost in your thoughts when his voice suddenly filled the room.

"You know.....y/n, when you desire something.....", His fingers made their way to your collar, playfully stroking your neck," you should let yourself have it", his last words were nothing but a whisper against your ear as he placed himself right behind your seated form. His upper half of the robe already wet, stuck to his body, defining each and every cut of his muscles. He was somewhere between lean and mascular, his beautiful face giving him just the right amount of sensuality. You weren't naive enough to be oblivious to his suggestive tone.

It was weird to you, perplexing even as to why a clearly well to do, good looking guy would not only make a move on his maid but a maid who smelled like she just popped out of a can of tuna fish. His deep, even breaths stroked your ear as he waited for you to answer.

" I really wasn't thinking about....... 'This'", you pulled his hands wrapped around your shoulders away, to prove your point. You thought he'd be upset but his face only lit up by your rejection.

" Is this embarrassment I see y/n? Because it's not cute", he rose on his knees, looking down at you he gently added, " the mundane world would feel much better if you indulged yourself a bit more you know, even if those indulgences are only of....."

" Sexual nature", his sharp eyes slited as his lips curled into a wicked grin. Impossible to read, his actions did nothing but lure you in a honey coverd poisonous trap. It was obvious with the way his hands started massaging your arms, right where it hurt from your previous fall, blowing softly in your ear. They was all just tricks to make you fall just so he could shame you from above but you'd be damned if it didn't got you all hot and bothered. He grazed his hand across your blouse sticking to your bust, your nipples hardened with the slightest touch. The reactions your body gave were no lies and therefore couldn't be hidden. He pressed your bodies closer until you sat snugly against his torso. You closed your eyes, still unable to decide whether or not you want to let him have his way and deal with all the risks that would soon follow after.

The front of wet your shirt was completely open by now, reveling the garment underneath. Suguru's hands trailed up and down your thighs as he hiked your long skirt higher until it pooled around your hips sticking to the sides. He hooked his left hand under your left knee, doing the same with your right side, he pulled your legs apart, with the mirror in front, you and the man behind you had a full view of your damp panties.

" See that? This is what you want. To be exposed by me. Just the thought of spreading yourself open in front me have you this wet y/n...... Are you sure you weren't waiting for this moment all along?", His voice had a mix of mockery and eroticism in it, his words only adding to the fire burning in the middle of your core. With his right hand, he grabbed the thin strap of your panties at the side of your hips and tore them off until the shredded garment was left dangling on one of your hip. The air in the room, made contact with you now naked pussy but what made you shiver was the mirror in front of you. Suguru held both of your legs as far apart as possible, his face, now lacking all the warmth it had just a few minutes ago. When you tried to squeeze your eyes shut he pinched your inner thighs hard, making you cry out in a mix of pain and pleasure.

" Keep looking y/n, I'm proving it to you, just how much you're body is begging for me. And I won't stop until you've said so yourself, so keep. Your eyes. Open.," The darkness of his tone was accentuated with the look in his eyes. The fingers of his right hand made their way to your cunt, with two of them he spread your dripping lips apart, reveling the tiny swollen bud that was screaming for attention. You felt it too, the need for release spreading in your body but voicing it meant your defeat so you held your breath, letting the self assured guy behind you continue his ministrations.

" Why can't you be honest just like your needy cunt?", He cooed against your throat as he rubbed your nether lips with his digits, coating them in your slick. He didn't touch your clit, if you were going to be a brat then he's bringing his A game too. Making you beg was his only motive now, his eyes met yours, the mirror in front of you showing every nook and cranny of your privates and by now you're sure Suguru has memorised all of it. The ache between your legs was getting worse as he kept on sliding his fingers up and down your folds but never touching the rest of your sex. You knew what would make him do it but after the prolonged defiance you're not sure how to put it into words.

" Whats wrong y/n, are you ready bow to your filthy desires?, Getting off on my fingers is going to be a lot better than yours right?", Damn his rude ass remarks but they were true, the last few months have been very long and dry for you, day in and day out all work, maybe that's why you're giving in so easily, what he promised was as tantalizing as his actions, that's why you were so horny, easily aroused even.

"Right..... You're .... right, so do it.....master", you broke out, the last of your self control shredding itself as you let your voice flow out just as much as your cunt, your juices.

" Finally gave in huh?, It would've been so much easier if you'd just admitted to being my slut from the start, but oh well, this is also good", his thick fingers slipped in you with ease as he wrapped his left hand around your throat, making you look straight at the mirror. You were a mess, a totally different kind of mess you previously were, in addition to your already damp hair, your eyes were glazed with lust, the corners of your lips moist with your drool that threatened to spill out, your clothes were disheveled and tattered, you were disheveled in general and barely recognisable.

" Now look at yourself closely, how your face twists when I make you cum, how you look when you're begging to me like a real slave," his fingers picked up a brutal pace, going in and out of you relentlessly, his thumb roughly massaging your throbbing clit, sending shivers up your spine. You could clearly see your drool covered face turning hotter by the second, pussy dripping from your buliding orgasm on the tatami mats below it, your moans coming out in broken whimpers as Suguru's hand tighten around your throat, eyes rolling back for a second, you cum around his fingers hard.

" Do you see that ? How disgusting she looks right now?", Turning his gaze to the left he called out to his accomplice in crimes, " Mahito", the other man, with an amicable smile on his peculiar face stared at, not where you lied on the floor, but at your pitiful form that appeared in the mirror.

" I just dropped by to give you the clothes you asked for the young lady earlier," his talked merrily, not minding the scandalous sight in front of him one bit," but it appears that you aren't going to be needing them for a while", throwing the cloths aside he sat on your left side. Suguru kept his eyes on the mirror, loosening his hand around your neck he let you breath, mind still hazy.

" You're free to join in, if you have the time. But I'll have to warn you though, she's a persistent one, it took me a while to break her as well", Suguru smirked, pulling his fingers out of your abused hole making an exaggerated show of bringing his cum smeared fingers to your face, as if prove his victory.

" I don't mind a challenge every once in a while Geto kun, I'm not bad at 'this' myself, but to make sure, why don't you keep sitting, after all it's been a while since touched a living human", Still a bit delirious, it took you a few more seconds than usual to process the change in your situation or what he meant by living just now or touching even. The man named Mahito kneeled in between your still parted thighs, you thought it was strange that your brains last and probably rotting cells decided to focus on his eyes. They were heterochromatic, it gave his already scared face a haunting quality.

The fact that you were sandwiched between two men soon left your mind as Mahito started sucking on your still sensitive clit, your legs instinctively clamping if it's weren't for Suguru holding them apart. The man behind you weren't entirely evil though as he rubbed soothing circles on the soft inner flesh of your aching thighs, his touch only heightning the touch of the man between them.

Mahito licked your juices as if they were made to be feasted upon, slurping on them lewdly, the V of his fore and middle finger seperated your pussy for more access, he grazed his teeth lightly across your clit, fighting the urge to bit it down. You didn't have any energy at this point to put up a show of defiance so you kept moaning, the sight of the man lying flat on his stomach along with his face hidden in between your legs was urging you to cum, but the abrupt thrusting of Suguru's fingers in your mouth cut them off.

" If you're mouth is available enough to scream for just anyone who makes you cum then you truly do have the makings of a whore.", His words were nothing more than a possessive hiss against you throat, long fingers grazing your tonsils as he pushes them deeper. You gag a little, the fingers in you mouth kept you from reacting to the man who worked your pussy until it throbbed against his face.

Mahito turned his heterochromatic eyes towards your face, it seemed like someone was keeping you from your release, he sucked on your clit again adding two fingers in your streched out cunt. He moved both his tongue and digits in similar motions, causing a surge pleasure wash down your senses, with just a few quick pumps of his fingers, your juices gushed on his face as your moans get stifled by the fingers in your mouth.

" That wasn't so bad right?", Mahito pushed himself up as he asked his partner in crime, something about his tone was awfully cocky, making Suguru's face scrunched up in a haughty smirk as he added,

" Indeed, you sure know your way around the human's body Mahito kun, but maybe a little less egar to please attitude would do better. Can't let our toy think we're just here for catering to her needs now can we?", His voice loaded with provocative innuendos sounded nothing but gentle but the other man knew better.

" Hooo?, Is that a challenge for round two, then?", He met Suguru's goading with a playful and assured tone. Both of them stared each other, neither of the males backing down they both turned their eyes at your spent body, and you know even without having to look, that it was going to be a long night.

[wannabe-fic-writer]

Natasha Romanoff x Reader : Thin Line

Summary: You’re wild and free. She’s strict and trained. You and Natasha are polar opposites and it drives her crazy. Each move you make annoys her to no end. But, there’s a thin line between annoyance and adoration.

Rating: 18+ Violence, Mentions of Death, and Smut

Chapter 2

The next week passes uneventfully, minus you being on edge. You hadn’t forgotten the red head’s words. Being benched is not at all what you wanted. 

If anything you wanted to impress the infamous Black Widow. The team loves working with you and you enjoyed your time with them. When you got assigned to work with Romanoff you just knew you’d win her over, resulting in the whole team liking you. That didn’t happen however. 

Instead you pissed her off doing the one thing you’re good at: kicking ass.

Now though, you try distracting yourself by training. Each time your fist connected with the punching bag or your muscles tightened you felt the tension roll of your shoulders. 

But that lasted all of an hour, the ringing of your phone pulls you from your distraction.

“Y/L/N.” You answer breathless. 

“Agent Y/L/N Director Fury is requesting to see you.”

Knowing better than to protest, despite your nerves, you agree and immediately get ready.

With the help of one of Tony’s fancy Audi′s you make it to Fury’s meet up spot in no time. 

The mysterious man leans against the only table in the empty warehouse, leveling you with a stoic expression.

“Well if it isn’t the big boss man.” You smile and approach him.“ To what do I owe the nondescript meet up.”

He crosses his arms,“ you made quite the impression with Miss Romanoff.”

You have to reign in your expression, not wanting to appear afraid to the man in front of you.

“Well they say first impressions are everything.” 

His expression doesn’t change.

“She’s not happy with you and when she’s not happy the team notices which effects team morale.” He speaks again before he can reply.“ Which means you need to fix things, now.”

“Yeah, and how am I supposed to do that? Miss Stone Cold Assassin doesn’t exactly want to befriend me.”

Nick’s eye narrows,“ try toning it down Agent.”

Sending a shocked gaze to Nick, you reply,“ toning it down isn’t my thing. I get the job done more than satisfactorily and I have fun while doing it. How about I just keep my distance from Romanoff and you only assign me to work with the boys. They get me.”

“Oh the boys get you do they?” His tone is completely sarcastic and his expression alone tells you he’s done discussing.“ That’s cute, except I don’t care.You and Natasha have just been assigned.”

Your eyebrows raise,“ come on Fury,” you groan,“ give me a break. You saw how unhappy she was with our first mission and I’m almost positive you know she ripped me a new one when we got back to the compound. Just,” you sigh,“ I don’t know, assign Clint instead.”

“It sounds a lot like you’re trying to give me an order.”

You stiffen instantly. No, you aren’t scared of Nick Fury, but you do respect him. What you just did, wasn’t all that respectful. 

“Alright, I’ll work with Romanoff.” He raises a brow.“ And I’ll tone it down.”

With a quick smirk, he nods, hands you the mission file, and sends you on your way. 

You know Natasha knows because the second you enter the compound she’s waiting for you. 

She leans against the back of the couch clad in a tank top and the yoga pants, a sheen of sweat sitting on her skin. Most definitely just came from training.

You can’t help but take in her figure, eyes lingering on her exposed midriff and down the curve of her hips.

For those few seconds you can’t possibly deny how stunning she is. Obviously, right? It’s Natasha Romanoff. The one woman who could pull off look, as far as you were concerned. 

By the time you refocus, it’s too late.

“Typical that you’re not listening.” She scoffs, eyes rolling and arms crossing.

It’s the hardest thing ever to not be distracted again as her arms push her breast up.

“Sorry I was distracted.” You frown.

Her eyes narrow,“ and what exactly has you so distracted?”

Right, cause you’re just going to admit that her body is what distracted you. She hates you already, pretty sure that wouldn’t play well.

“Nothing.” You run a hand through your hair.“ What were you saying?”

She’s silent for a moment, eyes searching yours. Painted in those green eyes is irritation, toward you obviously. But there’s the faintest hint of curiosity in them. She wants to know what distracted you, just as much as she wants to hit you for ignoring her.

“Wheels up in twenty.” She finally says, turning and leaving.  

After you’ve finished packing you head out your room to the waiting Quinjet. 

Natasha isn’t there yet, so you take a moment to read over the mission file. 

The more you read the more anxious you get. 

While there is no exact time stamp on the file, it’s clear this is going to be more than an over night type of mission. If previous missions like this told you anything, you know you’re going to be staying with Natasha for a stint of time.

Just as your thoughts start to linger on the idea of being with Natasha closely overnight, she comes up the ramp of the Quinjet. 

For some reason you expect her to be in uniform but she’s opted out of wearing the black Kevlar, instead choosing a pair of black joggers and a matching hoodie.

A quippy remark instantly readies itself in your head, but you refrain from saying it. Deciding to just read as much of the mission file as possible. 

The entire flight is silent. 

You never thought silence could be overbearing but it is. It looms over you and makes you feel uneasy. 

It was never like this with the guys, you would chat with them about almost anything on the flights. Hell, when you were with Tony or Clint it’s safe to say you had a jam session, music blasting through the Quinjet as you guys prepared for the mission. 

This though, this was awkward. It’s like Natasha didn’t even want to look at you. 

She placed herself at the pilot’s seat long before take off and hadn’t moved, even after she turned on autopilot. 

It’s like a breath of fresh air when the jet lands in a clearing. The second the doors open you’re stepping out. 

The clearing provides the perfect coverage for the jet and a quick glance around clarifies that you two will be walking a bit before you get to the safe house.

On the walk over, you don’t allow an awkward silence to settle.

“So, uh,” you pause,“ I wanted to uh, apologize-”

“Save it.” 

“I’m sorry, what?” You chuckle in disbelief. 

“You’re only apologizing because Fury told you to. You’re not actually sorry for your actions which means that apology is useless.”

Just like that, despite your efforts, awkward silence ensues. 

It even carries into the safe house, which is just a covertly placed cabin in the woods.

A really nice cabin at that. Under extremely different circumstances you’d have called it romantic. 

You and Natasha go to your temporary bedrooms and you reemerge before she does. 

With the late hour you decide to make dinner. Courtesy of Tony Stark, the kitchen is fully stocked and you use the expanse of ingredients to make the one dish you perfected: spaghetti. 

The scent alone intrigues the Russian red head and brings her out of hiding. Despite the stoic expression on her face, you see the intrigue in her eyes the closer she gets. 

You notice in this moment that she’s not all that great at hiding her emotions. Or at least she hasn’t been with you. Or you’re just good at seeing behind the mask she puts up with everyone.

Making two plates of the pasta, you slide one to the spot Natasha is standing at and then set a glass of water next to it.

She eyes the plate and then looks at you.

“What?” You raise an eyebrow, then decide to jokingly ask,“ water not fancy enough? Would you prefer a Sparkling Water or a glass of wine instead?”

Green eyes narrow at you,“ do you have wine?” Her sultry tone accompanies a raised brow. 

You stumble over a response, as you don’t know. But you go in search of wine, and find it. But what else did you expect from one Tony Stark then to have wine at a mission safe house. 

“Surprise surprise. Apparently Tony knows what you like.” You comment, grabbing a wine glass and setting it beside the water.

Moving slowly, as if she were debating whether to stay or not, Natasha sits. Her gaze follows your every move.

Each second she watches you, you feel more and more flustered. 

Part of you wonders if her eyes are watching dangerously, sizing you up in case she has to ‘otherwise incapacitate you’. The other part of you wonders if her eyes watch you as your eyes had watched her earlier, taking in your appearance and loving every bit of it. 

You can admit that both parts in whole feel like prey. 

Shaking it off, you pour her wine and then grab your own plate. 

Much like every other moment with her today, it’s silent. Words aren’t spoken and apart from forks clashing on plates there’s no sound.

That’s a stark contrast to how the next morning goes. 

The mission required recon. Simple recon. Check out the enemies base, size up the threat, figure out the best possible point of entry. All things were supposed to be covert.

Supposed to be.

Honestly, neither you or Natasha are sure what happened. One second you were hidden on a nearby hill, out of sight, out of mind. The next you were fighting through a barrage of enemies.

The outside of the base was littered with bodies. Unsurprisingly it got easier with each take down.

“So, our covers blown, what’d you say we finish this up now.” You jab a fist straight into the throat of the nearest bad guy.“ Get in, get the data, get out. I think we could handle that.”

For a brief second you make eyes with Natasha across the field and quirk in eyebrow in question.

You hear her sigh, followed by the grunt of the guy she took down,“ fine. But we go in the way we planned.”

“I hope you don’t mean covertly cause losing these guys is going to be a pain in the ass.”

“Get your ass to the roof Y/L/N.”

After handling the nearest guys, you and Natasha make quick work of getting to the roof and into the facility. That’s where things took a turn for the worst.

At first it was easy enough, you got in, got the information, but there were more bad guys than you expected. 

It worried you instantly and for the first time in your career you doubted your decision. No because you aren’t skilled enough, not because this is new to you. You doubt yourself because you’re not alone. 

This time around there’s someone else to worry about. Someone who, despite not having known her long, you care about.

“Hey Nat you-” you’re cut off when a bullet whiz pass you, leaving a very noticeable gash across your forehead.“ Ass.” You grunt and shoot him, twice for good measure. 

“Now’s not the time Y/L/N.”

“No, I was gonna say, maybe we should-” Once again you’re cut off, but this time it’s because of Natasha.

Her grunt of pain followed by quick breaths in.

Your eyes survey the area and you don’t find Natasha. You do see the influx of bad guys headed in a particular direction. 

Moving as quickly as possible, you get to her, eliminating the immediate threat as quickly as possible. 

You see the blood before you see the wound, yet and still, your heart drops when you take in the bullet wound.

“Shit, hang on Nat.” The nickname slips from your mouth with ease, so much ease that you don’t pay any mind to it.

A couple more bad guys later and your kneeling beside the bleeding red head, applying pressure to her injury. 

Those green eyes start to droop and you curse.

“Natasha, hey, keep your eyes open alright.” Your voice is starting to sound panicky. 

Blood leaves her wound rapidly and it makes your heart pound in your chest. You nearly rip your jacket off, removing your shirt, and wrapping it around Natasha’s torso. Once it’s tied tight enough you put your jacket back on and turn to handle the last of the threat.

There’s only a few enemies left, which you can handle, but you’d much rather be tending to Natasha. 

You run out of bullets just as the last guy comes charging at you. He’s much bigger than the other guys. 

“Oh fuck off.” You groan and charge him. 

Jumping up, you kick your feet straight into his chest and he stumbles and falls back. You take that quick second to throw a knife between his eyes. 

Chest heaving with uneven breaths you hasten over to Natasha. Her eye’s flutter as she struggles to keep them open. 

“Alright pretty girl, let’s get you outta here.” You mumble and scoop Natasha into your arms. 

You instantly feel her blood against your skin, already having soaked through your shirt. It makes you move faster, the worry doing wonders to your adrenaline.

By the time you make it back to the safe house Natasha is completely unconscious and the second you lay her down you search for a pulse. Luckily you find one. It’s weaker than it should be, but you know she won’t die. 

You make quick work of cleaning, sterilizing, and dressing her wound.Then moving her into her bed and pulling a shirt over her body. 

The adrenaline wears off the second you step out her room. Your shoulders sag and you can’t help but stare at the blood on the floor. Natasha’s blood. 

It’s in that moment that you understand completely why Natasha is so pissed at you. Your actions are stupid and reckless. 

What you did today got her hurt. 

As you clean the mess of her injuries you instill in yourself at that moment to never ever be the cause of her hurt. Because you hated seeing her like that. She looked so fragile, paler than usual due to blood loss, and broken. 

Your thoughts finally quiet as sleep creeps up on you. Worry still plaguing you, you slip back into Natasha’s room and slide on to the floor beside her bed.

“You better wake up Romanoff.” You mumble before allowing yourself to sleep.

[killee]

Why Me?

⌦ pairing: yandere uvogin x reader

⌦ fandom: hunter x hunter (2011)

⌦ word count: 1.4K (1411)

⌦ warning: mentions of blood, violence, yandere themed, like one curse word

⌦ about: you had been staying in a sketchy town nearby Meteor City on the run from your ex. you recently got a job at a café but that might have been the worst decision in your life..

⌯ Three weeks ago, you successfully got a job position at this fairly new café just about two blocks from your rundown apartment. You had recently run away from your ex-significant other’s house after you found out they were just using you so they could inherit their family’s fortune then planned on killing you. They had to be married to someone to inherit it and for them, you were the perfect person to use since you had no family or close friends. So once they were done with you, you wouldn’t be needed anymore.

⌯ Guess they thought you weren’t as smart as you actually were. Once you found out what they were planning on doing, you quickly took off on the run. Only taking the necessary items you needed and a bit of extra cash and you were off, not wasting any time and going somewhere he wouldn’t look for you. Hell! You honestly didn’t even know where you were going yourself but you just had to get away from them.

⌯ You took several buses and trains and arrived at a ‘sketchy’ area on the outskirts of Meteor City, this place was so low profiled it was too good. You decided it would be a good place to hide since everyone minded their own business and it wasn’t all flashy. A month later, you had got an apartment for a good amount and have been working ever since to get some more money.

⌯ When you heard there was a place, specifically a café, hiring closer to your apartment than your other job you couldn’t pass up on the opportunity. You quickly filled out your resume and did an in-person interview and boom! the job was yours! words couldn’t express how happy you were when you got the call that you were accepted and you could start working soon.

⌯ Now in the present, you were still working there. You loved the job and you got paid quite well; however, you didn’t expect to have a little stalker always watching you at work. You started noticing him after your first week of working as a barista, you weren’t able to wait tables yet so you had to be a barista, and you noticed a quite large male wearing what looked like caveman clothing standing across the street just staring at the café.

⌯ You didn’t really pay attention at first since the café was still basically new in this area so you thought he was waiting for someone or just checking out the place.. until you asked one of your coworkers about the very humongous caveman guy. They said he wasn’t here when you weren’t here so you were now on alert about the guy. You grew more worried as the days flew by and you began wondering if the man was sent by your ex, which caused you to grow more distracted— which lead you to get yelled at by the manager.

⌯ You were stressed and paranoid. Exhausted mentally and physically, it was like psychological torture. You couldn’t do it anymore, you started calling in for work because you were scared of leaving your home. When you did go to work you didn’t walk to work or going back money, but desperately needed the money but you were too scared.

⌯ Today, your manager asked you to stay until closing time since they were short on staff and wait some tables too. You honestly wanted to tell him to go fuck himself but you needed the money so you didn’t object him. You hadn’t seen the man during your shift so it made it a bit easier to accept. You began waiting tables and it was honestly pretty good and easy, really got your mind off the stalker only a few meters away. You were writing down an order when you felt the ground shake a tiny bit, not thinking much of it, you continued taking the order.

⌯ You heard the bell on the door ring which meant someone had come in, you glanced over and had to do a double take. It was the caveman guy. You quickly took down the rest of the order and rushed behind the counter, trying to avoid him as best as you could in this medium sized café. You could feel him starring into your back. You tried so hard not to just break down and cry out for him not to take you back to your ex.

⌯ You did your best to finish up your shift but it was hard when he was watching your every move. You kept on making mistakes and nervously spilling drinks. Your manager finally had enough and began yelling at you once again but more quieter since there were still a few customers inside. All you could do was put your head down and try to contain your tears.

⌯ One minute your manager was telling you off and the next minute you heard ear-piercing pleads and yells. You quickly looked up and saw that the large man had picked up your manager by the top of his head. Your eyes widen and you stumbled back in shock and fear. Your manager tried desperately to get out of the man’s deadly grip but nothing worked. You were too in shock to say anything, the large man then looked at you and.. smiled?

⌯ He began walking outside with your manager still in hand and turned the corner, a second later, you heard a traumatizing scream then silence. The customers that were inside took the time to grab their things and run out the café, never looking back once. Now you were now alone with your other coworker but they were in the back of the building sleeping so they didn’t even know what was going on in the front.

⌯ A large silhouette shadowed over the see through door and it was pushed opened. The male ducked under the door frame and you could see blood all over him. You gulped and rushed to grab whatever you could use as a weapon, you grabbed the empty glass tip bottle and threw it at him. It hit him on the head and shattered but that didn’t seem to stop him from walking closer to you.

⌯ You backed up as far as you could but you knew he could still just reach over the counter and grab you if he wanted to like he did with your boss. Hot tears started running down your cheeks and your breathing became very unstable. You legs felt like they were about to give out so you supported your body on the other counter behind you.

⌯ “P-Please don’t hurt m-me! I don’t k-know what y-you want f-from me!” You sobbed out. He stopped in his tracks and laughed, he placed his hands ontop of the counter in front and looked at you with amusement and contentment. He reached over the counter to assumingly grab you but you cried out and told him ‘no’. He dropped his hand and sighed.

⌯ “Sweetheart, don’t worry. I’m not gonna hurt ya.. I just wanna talk.” When he reached out the second time and was able to grab your shirt collar and pull you towards him. You sniffled and tried to push his hand away but it was useless, he absolutely had no trouble picking up a full grown man just by his head so why would your pushes have an effect on him at all?

⌯ He released your now wrinkled and blood stained collar and brought his hand to your face, you immediately flinched away thinking you were going to get the same treatment as your manager; however, the ginormous man used his thumb to wipe away your tears and hushed you to stop crying. You tried your best to stop but you could only cry softer, luckily, the man seemed to understand you couldn’t immediately stopped crying and he didn’t say anything about it.

⌯ “I know you’re probably upset with me killing your manager but don’t be, he deserved it. I’m here for you and I’ll protect you with my life.. you’re mine now.” You violently shook your head and began beating on his torso with your fists but he only laughed at your non effective hits. “Don’t worry, baby. You may hate me now but you’ll come to love me soon.” He wrapped his arms around your body and kissed the top of your head before resting his head on top of yours.

[send-me-your-hcs]

okay. for some reason mob boss tony kidnaps peter and it turns out peter is a little. (he gets so scared and couldn't help but get into the littlespace as a defence mechanism???) and tony freaks out because he doesn't know how to take care of a little.

This is literally so funny to me. Like just the thought of Tony going from “You belong to me now, baby boy” to “oh God why is it making that noise, Happy make it stop” is so fucking hilarious?? But damn if I’m not intrigued.

…

......am I doing it?

…….fuck me I’m doing it. Damn you, anon.

Warnings: mentions of human trafficking and abuse, ageplay, underage (but Peter’s age is unspecified and can be envisioned however you’d like).

The compound crumbles in less than an hour.

For all his bravado, Justin Hammer goes down almost too easily. Tony feels tempted to whistle as he walks through the compound’s warehouse, stepping over the slain bodies of Hammer’s underpaid cronies.

His team is just finishing up the last of the clean-up. The occasional gunshot echoes off the walls as Tony takes stock of all the merchandise he just inherited, debating what to do with Hammer once they get home. It almost feels like a waste of effort and time to torture the man before killing him, even with all the trouble he stirred up with the police. Tony’s tempted to just put a bullet in his brain and be done with it.

But, well. He isn’t called The Merchant of Death for nothing, and he does have a certain image to maintain. Plus, with Hammer keeping him company tonight, he’ll at least be partially spared from the usual tedium that comes with being the biggest mafia don on the east coast.

It’s as he’s wondering just what exactly he should do to Hammer first that Happy finally arrives, looking a little disheveled, but no worse for wear. “Boss,” he says, stumbling over the array of corpses with a muted curse, “compound’s clear. We’re ready to pack this all up and move out.”

Tony wipes the toe of his shoe off on some unnamed man’s bullethole-patterned sleeve. “Good. And Hammer?”

“On his way back to base as we speak, sir. I’ll have him ready for you when you arrive.”

Tony nods in approval, then notices the pronounced, telltale crease in Happy’s brow. Always a good sign.

“Something else you wanna tell me, Hap?”

Happy grimaces, deepening his forehead wrinkle. “There was an unexpected...uh...hiccup, sir.”

Tony lifts an eyebrow at the other man, equal parts curious and incredulous. “A hiccup,” he repeats, slowly, watching Happy’s face grow increasingly sour. “What sort of hiccup?”

“The, um...the teenaged boy kind?”

---

There are only two bodies littering the floor outside Hammer’s office: his enforcer, and his bodyguard. Happy scowls at the sight and starts clumsily rolling them out of the way, glaring at Bucky while he does.

Bucky smirks at Happy, pointedly not moving to help clear away the bodies lying between them. “Kid hasn’t stopped crying since you took Hammer,” he says to him, standing in the doorway like a sentry.

“Probably in relief,” Tony says, straightening his tie as Happy finishes kicking over the second body. “Who is he? Do we know?”

“My guess is a trafficking vic,” Bucky says with a shrug. “He’s got bruises. Seems kinda...out of it.”

Tony hums. “Well, I suppose we’re about to find out.”

Bucky steps aside and Tony strolls into the room, sparing a disinterested glance at Hammer’s shameful choice of interior decorating. The throw pillows are haphazardly strewn across the floor from the sofa; one of the grommet drapes is missing from the window. It’s a mess, but that’s not entirely unexpected.

Happy follows close behind him as he makes his way to the corner of the room, where the soft sound of pitiful sobs is coming from underneath the large desk. Tony peeks his head beneath the desktop just enough to confirm the kid doesn’t have a loaded weapon before he crouches down.

The little thing is balled up tight, wrapped in the missing window drapery and clutching one of the stolen throw pillows like his life depends on it. He seems naked underneath it, which confirms Bucky’s human trafficking theory and gives Tony almost an instant headache. There are bruises spanning the boy’s wrists and ankles that look new and swollen, standing out brightly against the boy’s very pale skin.

Tony clears his throat. “As comfortable as that looks, perhaps I could convince you to stand up so we can chat face to face, hm?”

The kid flinches, whimpering into the pillow he has pressed over his face. Tony sighs like an overburdened parent and says, “I don’t have all day. You have till the count of three to come out on your own before I come in there and make you. You hear me? One. Two…”

The boy’s soft-looking head of curls slowly lifts, and the next thing Tony knows, he’s staring into the biggest pair of honey-brown eyes he’s ever seen. They’re red-rimmed and brimming with tears, swollen from how long the kid’s been crying, but they stay obediently and nervously fixed on Tony as the boy slowly uncurls his limbs and crawls out from under the desk.

Tony’s somewhat surprised that the boy clings to his pillow religiously enough to let the curtain slip down to his waist, held up by only a single tiny, shaking fist. The boy won’t spare either hand to hold the drape up properly so it pools around his hips, revealing his slim, narrow torso, his perfectly unblemished skin.

There aren’t any other bruises, though more could be hiding under the curtain. Tony appraises the kid for a long, tense moment before he asks, “What’s your name?”

Thin arms squeeze the throw pillow tight enough to strangle it. The boy is still looking up at him with that damned pair of Disney eyes. He hasn’t stopped crying.

“‘m Peter,” he mumbles, sniffling.

His voice is cute. A little high for a kid his age, but in an endearing way. “Peter.” Tony nods, pleased. “I’m Tony. Tell me, Pete, how long have you been here?”

Peter glances at Happy, then at Bucky in the doorway, before shyly lowering his gaze to the pillow in his arms. He hugs it tighter and says, “Um...don’t...don’t know what day it is.”

“It’s Tuesday,” Happy says, sounding put out in that wonderful way he always does. “June 16th.”

The boy blinks, looking nervous and unsure as he says, “Since...two days.”

“Okay,” Tony says, “And where were you before that?”

Peter’s shoulders droop. He looks down at the floor with wet eyes, mumbling, “With bad guys.”

It takes everything Tony has not to smirk. “Bad guys? Worse than these ones?”

Peter nods. “They took me,” he says, his little voice completely heartbroken, “from Miss Jones’s place. They waited till she was asleep and they took me. S’been…” Confusion washes over his face, like he’s trying to access some memory that isn’t there. “It was winter. There was still snow outside.”

Before Tony can decide how to respond to that, Happy tactfully pipes up with, “Who the hell is Miss Jones?”

“Michelle Jones Adoption Center,” Bucky says, reading aloud as he stares down at his phone. “Looks like a non-profit adoption agency. Website says the founder also runs a foster home. Is that the one?”

All three men turn to look at Peter, who nods, staring at Bucky hopefully. “Uh-huh. They sent me there when my aunt and uncle died.”

Part of Tony is scared to ask. “What happened to your parents?”

“They died when I was little.”

“Yikes,” Happy says quietly under his breath, though not quietly enough. Tony gives him a reproachful look, then turns back to the boy, whose face is once again soaked in tears, clinging to his throw pillow like it’s a teddy bear.

Tony bites the bullet and says, “I hate to be the one to tell you this, kid, but now that you’ve seen our faces, I can’t let you go back to Miss Jones’ place.”

If the kid’s surprised, he doesn’t show it. He just keeps staring down at his pillow, letting his tears drip down off his cheeks and soak into the fabric. “I just...I want…” His lower lip wobbles, and then the sobs come. “I don’t know. I don’t know. ‘m so - so c-confused. I just want my D-Daddy.”

For the first time in longer than Tony can remember, he’s at a loss for words.

“Want Daddy,” Peter says again, babbling, like a child. The crying is really doing nothing for Tony’s budding headache. “‘m scared.”

“I’m praying this isn’t what it sounds like, but, please tell me Justin Hammer wasn’t your Daddy. Ugh, Jesus, I’m never going to get the taste of those words out of my mouth. Blech.”

Thankfully, Peter shakes his head no, looking just as disgusted as Tony feels. Thank God. “I don’t...I don’t think so. I-I don’t know. They said I had to be good for Daddy. They said I couldn’t go home unless it was with h-him.”

Bucky jokingly says, “I’ll be his Daddy,” but he mutes himself when Tony lifts a hand to silence him, before turning to give Happy a helpless look. The man stares back, then silently gestures to his gun, the question clear as day on his face. Tony immediately shakes his head, waving the man’s hand away from his holster with a steely glare.

Okay, so. That’s interesting. Apparently mercy-killing the boy isn’t an option. Giving him back to gentle-hearted, law-abiding-citizen Miss Jones isn’t an option, either.

So where does that leave him?

Tony watches the boy cry a moment longer before resignedly asking, “Peter, how old are you?”

Peter wipes his wet face on the pillow, refusing to let neither it nor the curtain go long enough to use his hands. “Don’t...know,” he says, after a moment, his brows furrowed like he’s thinking it over hard. “They s-said that was up to my Daddy.”

Stellar. Great big help, that is.

Sighing, Tony rubs his temple to soothe his headache, taking a moment to really look at the boy in front of him. Peter is...well. It’s fair to say he isn’t unattractive. Hammer’s poor taste in interior design apparently doesn’t extend to sex slaves.

Tony’s done horrible, truly vile things in his career, but children are usually where he draws his thin, arguably nonexistent moral line. They’re rarely intelligent enough to interest him in any fashion, but Peter - for what it’s worth - has managed to pique his interest just enough that he finds himself actually opening his mouth and saying:

“Peter. Since I can’t let you go back to your foster home, tell me: would you rather come home with me instead?”

He lets the ‘instead of killing you’ go unsaid, since the boy is already having trouble wiping away his tears. Peter stares up at him with a frightened, mistrustful look that makes Tony’s hands twitch. There’s innocence in those eyes, sure. But there’s brightness too. For all the babbling and childish baby-speak Peter’s given him, Tony gets the very distinct impression that he’s far from stupid.

“With you?” the boy asks, hardly louder than a whisper. His tone is soft and wary, sounding every bit the child he believes he is. “You...you’ll be my Daddy?”

It’s a strange thing, to be fifty years old and still learning such intimate things about himself, like how fucked up he is for liking it when this sweet, baby-faced teenage boy calls him Daddy in his soft, childish little voice. Part of him can’t wait to turn around and see the looks on Happy and Bucky’s faces; the rest of him doesn’t want to take his eyes off Peter for even a moment.

He nods, giving Peter what he hopes is a reassuring smile as he steps forward, offering his hand for the boy to take. “That’s right, honey,” he says, his tone syrupy sweet. “There’s nothing to be afraid of. Daddy’s here now.”

Peter looks between Tony’s outstretched hand and his smiling face, deliberating on what they both know is his only real option. Finally, he lets the curtain drop from around his hips to pool at his feet, revealing his slender legs and freshly-shaven pubic area. Tony’s brain momentarily goes white and fuzzy until Peter’s slim, soft hand hesitantly takes his own, still clutching that hideous throw pillow to his chest like a teddy bear.

Tony grants himself another long look over Peter’s gorgeous frame as he slips his suit jacket off and drapes it over the boy’s shoulders. Peter smiles gratefully and pushes his arms through the sleeves, his face darkening with a blush as Tony starts fastening the buttons. “Thank you, Daddy.”

Fuck. Forcing himself to swallow the growl building in his throat, Tony takes the boy’s hand again and leads him to the door. “Come on, sweetheart. Let’s get you home.”

Peter clings to him as they step through the threshold. Well, Tony thinks to himself, his hand tightening around Peter’s own, at least things won’t be boring from now on.

[fallingstarnovel]

Chapter Three

That Monday, when he got to the lecture hall, he glared at Aliya for the entire time. She was visibly avoiding his gaze, tugging down her hair so she wouldn't make eye contact with him.

After it ended, he quickly walked over to her, coughing loudly from behind his fist.

"So. Judas comes to face his crimes."

Aliya turned and gave him a pitying look. "I'm really sorry! I completely forgot I had a revision session in the morning and I had to prepare for it. I felt so guilty."

Evan glared at her for another second – before rolling his eyes with a smile. He was a benevolent kind of person when he wanted to be. "It's fine."

"You sounded like you had a good time," Aliya teased him. “Your texts were indecipherable.”

"Uh. I think I did." He pulled a face as he failed to remember literally anything about how he got home. "It’s all kind of a blur. There was this girl..."

Aliya's eyes went wide. "There was?"

"Ah, shut up, she just said a bunch of stuff at me and then... Hm. I don't remember much after that, but clearly nothing weird happened since I got home safe and fully dressed."

Aliya tutted. "This is why I don't drink. Sounds kind of scary."

Evan opened his mouth to say something like "you get used to it", but then he remembered that he was trying to be normal and closed his mouth again. "Yeah. Haha, a little. I'm not sure you would have enjoyed the party. It was loud and everyone was off their faces."

"Maybe. I'm glad you were okay, though. And you got home safe."

Evan smiled. By now, they were long outside the lecture hall and were walking through campus. Students were rushing from building to building, or walking in groups and chattering away together. So many people who were meant to be here. They all looked like they were right at home.

There was a flash of black in the corner of his vision. Evan turned his head automatically, only to see the black cat from a few days ago sprawled across a wall. It was staring at him with green eyes, unblinking and imperious.

"Oh, it's the university cat," he said to Aliya. "Look."

"Aww. I'm more of a dog person," she said bluntly.

The cat's eyes narrowed in disgust.

Evan was about to go over and pet it when he heard someone say his name over his shoulder. He looked behind him, only to see a boy with curly blond hair and an angelic smile. He was looking at the cat with a strangely intense gaz, before snapping back to smile at Evan.

"Ruth!" he said. "Hey!"

Ruth waved. "Hello again. You look like you've recovered from Friday night."

Wait. Wait a minute... Evan squinted at him, before feeling his face flush red. Was Ruth there as well?! He didn’t remember seeing him at all!! He laughed awkwardly. "I am. So sorry. I don't remember a lot. I was... very drunk."

Ruth nodded. "I was. I thought you might have difficulty remembering."

Aliya's eyebrows inched up her forehead, right into her hijab. Evan realised that he had been quite rude, and quickly introduced her. "This is my terrible friend from Astro. She invited me to the party and then left me to die."

"I'm Aliya," she said, elbowing him in the stomach subtly.

Ruth gave her a polite nod, before turning his attention back to Evan. "I hope you don't mind that I let myself into your house. You seemed very worried that I was going to harvest your organs."

"You were the one who took me home?!” Evan yelped, feeling the blood rush all the way to the tips of his ears. “Oh, haha, what? Haha, so weird," Evan said, feeling himself dying of mortification again. "Thank you so much. I don't mind at all. That was really nice of you. Usually I just stumble home by myself, you know? God, sorry, I must have been so annoying to handle."

Ruth shook his head, his hair tumbling around his ears. "You weren't annoying at all. You were very sweet, like a well behaved child."

Evan wanted the ground to swallow him whole. "Haha, that's good. Still, I'm so sorry. Thank you. Augh."

How was he so bad at this?

An idea occurred to him. He quickly started rummaging in his pockets. "Wait, wait, I think I owe you a coffee for saving my life twice now. I don't have a lecture for a while, so..."

Ruth looked at him in surprise. There was a yawning moment of silence in which Evan questioned everything that made him ask that question and wondered if it was too late to change his name and move to Mexico.

But then Ruth smiled. "I think I owe you one instead. You spilled yours last time."

"In that case, I'll pay for yours and you pay for mine, and we can call that even," Evan laughed, feeling relief flood through him.

There was a polite cough from behind him. "Well, I have a study group to get to, so," Aliya said, shooting Evan a knowing smile. "I'll let you two go have fun. See you, Evan."

Evan felt a little bit guilty at accidentally muscling Aliya out of the conversation. He waved her goodbye and turned back to Ruth, and all his guilt was forgotten. Ruth's smile was blinding. There were two little dimples in his cheeks. Wow, he didn’t know anyone in real life with dimples.

"Let's go," he said, inclining his head in the direction of the coffee shop, and off they went.

Evan watched Ruth over his coffee while trying to look like he was doing no such thing.

Ruth was fascinating. He had a very handsome face, with eyes that could have been carved into one of those old statues they kept in the museums of Rome. His movements were all graceful and deliberate, from the way he stirred his coffee to the way he unwrapped his blue scarf from around his neck.

He was also tall. Evan wasn't short – okay, he was kind of short – but Ruth made him feel like a god damn manlet.

"So," he said, because he felt the need to fill the silence with something, "what course are you on?"

"Actually, I'm a part time student."

"Eh, no way. I didn't know you could do an undergrad part time!"

Ruth smiled and shrugged. "I have a job on the side. It takes up a lot of my time. I suppose the university understood I had other commitments."

Evan blinked. "Wow. Must be an intense job."

"You have no idea," Ruth said, something steely glinting in his grey eyes. "But it's rewarding."

"Is it why you skip so many lectures?"

Ruth nodded. Evan couldn't hold back his curiosity.

"Then what is it?"

Supermodel? Secret agent? Government official? What was important enough that the university would let him mess around with the schedule like this?

Ruth just winked at him, and Evan immediately upgraded all his guesses. Eldest son of a mob boss. Heir to the CEO of a huge corporation. A superhero in disguise as a student.

"That's fine. I didn't want to know anyway," Evan lied. "I bet it's something boring like business management."

Ruth ran his finger along his cup, his eyes flickering down to the table. "In a way, I suppose you're not far off."

"So... why astrophysics?"

"No reason, really. I just felt something pulling me here. That's all."

Wow! Such a free spirit! This guy was definitely some kind of billionaire. Only a rich person could afford to come to university on a whim and then spend half his time doing something else instead. Evan, who thought coffee was a fancy treat, tried to contain his jealousy and failed.

They drank their drinks in companionable silence. Evan was full of questions, but he didn’t want it to seem like he was interrogating his new friend. He was just curious!

“Do you... go to a lot of student parties?”

Ruth shrugged. “Not generally.”

“Oh. Aside from last night, I guess. Um... actually, about last night... I was wondering about what exactly happened.”

Ruth went still. “Yes?”

“Was I... alright? When did I go home?”

“I found you upstairs in someone’s bedroom with a few people. It looked like you were playing some kind of game that involved kissing,” Ruth replied. “You seemed very uncomfortable with the situation. Did I misread that?”

A kissing game. What the hell. Evan hadn’t played one of those for years. He wondered who he was smooching when Ruth discovered him. So deeply, horrifically embarrassing.

“I have no idea,” Evan replied with a shrug. “I don’t really remember if I was comfortable or not.”

There was a faint frown colouring Ruth’s pleasant smile. “Then I’m glad I was there regardless. There should be no room for doubt with things like this.”

“Hah, in an ideal world. In my experience, there’s always doubt. You just kind of have to move on afterwards.”

Ruth’s throat bobbed, but he didn’t say anything else. His coffee was steaming so much that it fogged up Evan’s glasses, and he took them off with a chuckle to clean them. “Wow, look at that,” he said, desperate to change the subject. “It’s that time of the year where I go blind every time I enter a warm room. You don’t wear contacts, right?”

Ruth, still speechless, shook his head. Oh, this was awkward. Evan got the horrible feeling that he had messed up somewhere.

“So lucky. Well, hah, look at the time. I should start heading to my next lecture.”

He didn’t have a next lecture. That was a lie. But he really didn’t want to hurt the poor guy’s feelings. He started gathering his stuff slowly, trying not to look like he was rushing out of there. Ruth let out a deep breath, before reaching across to lightly touch Evan’s wrist. His skin was very hot from where it had been holding his coffee cup.

“The next time you go to a party,” he said quietly, “take me with you.”

“Sorry?” Evan said, certain that he misheard.

“Take me too. I, ah.. I’m actually quite nervous around people. And I find it difficult to go alone. It would be... nice to have a friend to go with.”

“Oh, dude, me too,” Evan said, giving him a reassuring smile. “I have mad social anxiety. I actually don’t get invited to a lot of things like that anymore, but if I do, I guess I’ll text you and see if you’re free?”

Ruth nodded, his hand slipping off Evan’s wrist.

“Thanks.”

“It’s no worries. We can be anxious buds together.”

With a slow incline of his head, Ruth signalled that he would like that, and Evan felt some of his nervousness settle somehow. It was a surprisingly soothing gesture.

“Well. See you at the next one.”

“See you then.”

And then Evan rushed off to hide in the library for a couple of hours so Ruth wouldn’t see him walking around campus when he was supposed to be in a fake lecture instead.

Evan was getting out of the shower when he noticed something black flash in the corner of his vision. He whirled around, rubbing shampoo out of his eyes, visions of getting murdered by some opportunistic shower murderer running through his brain.

However, when he looked around, there was nothing there. He swore he saw something, though. Something in the reflection of the bathroom tiles near his back.

When he was done, he stopped by the mirror in the hallway and checked his body just in case the black thing had been a huge house spider or something. It wouldn’t be the first time that he had a spider fall on him in the shower. Usually they washed down the sinkhole, leaving Evan shivering and feeling strangely violated, but what if this one managed to cling onto his naked skin?

There was no spider. Instead, sprawling across Evan’s lower back like a trampstamp was a sprawling, intricate black tattoo, formed from archaic lettering and symbolism that he couldn’t read.

“Hey, what the fuck,” he said into the empty house.

Having no housemates meant that he couldn’t run into anybody’s room and ask them to read whatever the hell it now said on his back. He tried rubbing at it, but nothing happened. It didn’t even feel weird or raised. It just felt like skin, and it didn’t budge.

Not even soap or nail polish remover got it off his back. It was like ink had sunk into his skin and stuck there overnight.

Evan was, understandably, more than a little freaked out.

> HEY UHHH SO > sent: image_5473843.jpg > ???

wow, that’s a really interesting tattoo!! when did you get it? <

> well you see that’s the thing aliya. i didn’t. > i do not know where this tattoo came from. ummm > i am freaking out a little!!

wh??! < you mean it just....??? appeared?? <

> yeah?? i literally do not remember getting any tattoo there??! ever?

you do have a lot of tattoos... are you sure you didn’t forget about one of them? <

> you don’t just forget about a tattoo!! > okay actually. sometimes you do. BUT NOT THIS BIG. THIS IS A TRAMP STAMP > I WOULD NEVER GET A TRAMP STAMP > oh god what if this happened while i was drunk at that party

ok calm down do you want me to come over and look at it? <

> no, it’s fine. i’ll just. ???? hhhhhhhhh > wait, there is something you can do! can you get me the numbers of uhh. fuck what was their name uhhh Tree. Branch > ROCK > and there was this girl who dressed like a goth, they were both at the party, can you ask your netball friends if they have their numbers? they might know what happened?? i guess? help?

i’ll ask around babe x sorry about this maybe go to the police? <

> they’ll just say i was drunk and there was nothing they could do. but thank you anyway i really appreciate this. sorry for bothering you

no need to apologise at all xx hoping you’re okay xx message me whenever you like <

Evan examined the tattoo in the mirror again. Now that the shock had worn off... well. Aliya was right. He already had so many tattoos. Most of them were already stupid ones he got on a whim. So even if he didn’t ask for this one... it was okay, right? It wasn’t so bad.

It was even kind of cool, in an old-school, mall goth kind of way. Spidery webbing and dots of red ink in what he thought might have been flowers of some kind. He tried to take a photo with his phone, but his hands kept shaking, so he just kept getting blurry pictures of his ass. Not ideal, honestly.

With a sigh, he stretched out on his bed and examined his older tattoos. His favourite one was still the navy outline of a falling star stretching down his inner arm towards his hand. It was his first proper one that he got done at a real tattoo parlour. A lot of the earlier ones were... well, the less said about how close he got to a skin infection, the better.

With a sigh, he tugged on a long sleeved shirt from his closet. Until he could work out why he suddenly had that black monstrosity on the back of his hips, he wasn’t sure he wanted to accidentally keep catching glimpses of it in every reflective surface.

Wait a minute. There was someone else there at the party. Someone who might have seen something that could help.

He opened up the messages from the unknown number and prayed that it was who he hoped it was.

> heyyy ruth i hope this is you!! haha hi

The reply came back about half an hour later, which was just long enough for Evan to overthink everything that had ever happened to him.

It’s me. Rest assured. :) <

Oh god. How to word this?

> well i’m doing good actually i’m you know. chilling! > actually there was something i wanted to ask you > please excuse the ass in this photo!!!!!

The what. <

> sent: image_5473843.jpg

Who did this. <

> funny question! i don’t know > i was hoping you could help???

I’m coming over. <

> no, i meant like do you remember seeing anyone at the party with a tattoo gun or a stick and poke or something?? you don’t have to come over sorry i don’t want to be a bother

You’re not a bother. I’m coming over. <

Well. Fuck. Evan panicked and threw on a pair of sweats and a hoodie, and then felt stupid, because presumably Ruth was going to come and look at the tattoo. Maybe he should wear nicer clothes? Did he have time to tidy his room?

> are you sure haha i don’t want to inconvenience you!!!

I was in the area anyway. It’s okay if you don’t want me to come over. But I have an idea about what happened. < Sorry. I know this must be alarming. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable. <

Evan thought about it. Well. It was the only lead he had.

> sure why not come on over

I’m outside. <

The doorbell rang.

***

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You are also cordially invited to the scottiemadethis discord where we talk about online novels, danmei, bad recipes, the milf agenda, and so much more!

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[smutonsmutlnsmut]

The Newest Avenger

Part 2: First Mission 

Summary: (y/n) has her first mission with the team

A/n: hi!! part 2 is here! Smut is coming in the next part :)

Pairing!Steve x Reader

Warnings: not much, drinking, talk about fighting

Word count: 2000

“She’s hot” Bucky said.

The boys and Nat were sitting in the living room late that night. Nat laughed at Bucky’s comment knowing he had a little crush on the new girl. “She seems very nice, and smart, she seems smart” Steve said quietly. “I mean to go through what she’s gone through and not hate the entire world? That’s hard”

“Okay old man”

You woke up the next morning in such a good mood. You had a new home, as long as you were good of course, but a home. You were up a lot earlier than everyone else and went exploring. You found a large empty room on the second floor. You went in and looked around. You asked F. R. I. D. A. Y. if this was used for anything and she said no. You started working on something you thought would be quite beneficial for the team. A few hours later Bruce came to where you were and had a confused look on his face.

“What are you doing?”

You stood up and showed him to the control pad outside of the door. The room was surrounded with glass and looked like it always has.

“I made a training room” you were so excited to finally show someone what you had been working on all morning. 

“I don’t mean to be rude... but it looks the way it always does” Bruce was confused. He didn’t want to hurt your feelings, especially after hearing what you had gone through as a kid, but it was a normal room.

“Click this”

The room changed. It was like a virtual reality room. You could change the setting from the control pad. Any climate, any place. You could also make fake targets, people, anything. Bruce was shocked. How did you do this? He tried a couple different settings and every time he switched, he was more and more impressed.

“Wow” he finally said, “how did you do this?”

You started explaining how you put it all together, you weren’t as smart as Bruce, but you were pretty close. He was amazed that you could do something like this, especially with your life story you told everyone yesterday. He was confused as to how you were so smart. You had breakfast with everyone and Bruce was bragging about your invention and everyone seemed quite impressed.

It had been a couple days at the compound for you now, you, Wanda and Nat had become quite good friends. Everyone made you feel welcome. Clint, Steve and Sam were away on a mission, so you got to know Bucky, Bruce, Thor, Vision, and Tony quite well. They all seemed to like you, which made you quite happy.

The next morning you got up earlier than everyone like always and went to train. You set it to an open terrain and over 100 enemies. You went into the room and started kicking some ass. Because of the glass, anyone can watch whoever is training in the room. You finished and took a sip from your water bottle. You told F.R.I.D.A.Y. to repeat the session and went back to it. Once you finished your full training session you looked up at the glass and saw Steve watching you. “Hey” you didn’t know why he was watching you.

“Hey, great job in there. You’re pretty powerful” he was avoiding eye contact.

“Thanks, I’m still trying to figure it all out”

“Oh… I don’t just mean your powers, you’re a strong fighter”

You smiled at him as you walked past to head to your room. You had a shower and came back out to the common area. You couldn’t keep Steve off of your mind. You couldn’t blame yourself though, he is beautiful. Wanda didn’t keep her promise to not read your mind.

“You do realize the only thing you think about is Steve...” she whispered to you during breakfast.

“Wow I didn’t think someone else would tell me about my thoughts, but thanks Wanda” you both laughed.

“He also spends a lot of time thinking about you, you know”

Before you could reply Tony walked in saying you all had to meet in the conference room. You grabbed your smoothie and headed there with the rest of the group. You felt this excitement come over you, was this your first mission with the team? You had no idea what to expect.

As you all gathered in the conference room, you kept looking around to see if anyone else was nervous. Of course, they weren’t, they’d done this so many times it was like clockwork. You sat in between Wanda and Nat and directly across from Steve. You tried not to stare but he was irresistible. Like a car accident, you can’t look away even if you should.

Tony explained the mission and what everyone’s role was. You and the team had to go to a very fancy event to try to get information from a mob boss. He was known for attacking innocent people at large gatherings, so you all had to make sure that didn’t happen. You, Wanda, Nat, Steve, Bucky, Tony and Sam were the ones going. Tony dismissed you all and as you started to realize that you had nothing to wear. How were you supposed to go to a fancy event in jeans and a sweater?

“It’s okay love, we’ll go shopping and use Tony’s credit card”

“Wanda!!”

“I’m sorryyyy, you just looked like you were deep in thought and I didn’t want to interrupt”

You two laughed and decided to take Nat with you on your shopping adventure. You all returned to the compound and you all got ready together. Your hair was up in a high slicked back ponytail, full face of natural, gorgeous makeup, and a long silver dress. It hugged your curves perfectly and had a deep V that went down to your bellybutton area. You had never seen yourself like this, you thought you looked beautiful. Which is rare, you normally wore sweats, sweaters or workout clothes. You never thought of yourself as beautiful. Not that you were super insecure, but you’d never even kissed a guy before. You never saw yourself as sexy, but today you felt as though you were the sexiest girl in town. Besides your best friends, of course. Wanda could tell you weren’t sure about this outfit and reassured you that you were stunning.

Tony called out to let you three know that it was time to leave. The three of you were about to leave your room but you stopped in your tracks. Steve. He was going to see you like this. Was this too much for him? Your heart was racing and your thoughts were all over the place.

“Oh my God, (y/n) let’s go” Nat grabbed your hand and pulled you out of your room.

You walked down the hallway towards the elevator. Trying to look confident and definitely not looking at Steve. As you approached the elevator the boys were all staring at you, except for Tony who was getting mad because you were going to be late.

“Damnnnn (y/n), you look fine as hell” Sam said.

You smiled back at him, still avoiding eye contact with Steve. You all got into the elevator, then of course Tony had to open his big mouth.

“So, to not look crazy suspicious we’re going to go in pairs, there is 4 limos waiting outside. Happy is going to be with me, Nat you’ll go with Bucky” Oh for the love of God. “Wanda you’ll go with Sam” Shit. “and (y/n) you’ll go with Steve.” You nodded, still avoiding eye contact you look at Wanda and saw her smiling.

As you got to the limo Steve opened the door for you, you smiled to thank him. Unfortunately, you couldn’t seem to force any words out. He got in on the other side. As you started to drive, there was an awkward silence that felt like you had been sitting there for hours.

“You look beautiful”

“Oh, umm thanks, y-you too. Oh, sorry I meant you look handsome” you would be thinking about that embarrassment tonight before you fell asleep.

“Why thank you”

The ride there was a lot better than you thought it would be. You shared stories, made each other laugh and had a genuinely good time. Once you got to the venue Steve opened your door and helped you out. You got to your standing table and grabbed two glasses of champagne.

“You know we’re not really supposed to drink on a mission” Steve chuckled.

“I know, but if we don’t we’ll look weird Mr. Captain America”

He smiled. Mostly because you just called him MR. Captain America, but also because you were smart.

The mission went well. No one was injured and you and the team caught the mob boss and took him into custody. On your way out the staff thanked you all and you grabbed a bottle of champagne and stole two glasses. When you got back into the limo Steve had a big smile on his face. You popped the champagne and poured it into the glass.

“Can I help you?” you teased.

“Couldn’t wait till we got back?”

“Nope.”

Back at the compound Tony decided to have a party to celebrate the mission. He also wanted to celebrate you because you helped a lot this evening. Everyone was having a good time. You, Wanda, Nat and Sam were all sitting at a table chatting and laughing.

Six shots and almost a full bottle of champagne later, you weren’t doing so hot. You saw Steve sitting with Bucky drinking a beer. So you decided to head on over there. Stumbling on your way, the boys noticed and Steve got up to help you sit down in his seat.

“Bucky how have you had like twenty beers and you’re still alive?”

“I don’t really get drunk… serum stuff”

“Same with you Steve?”

He nodded. You felt embarrassed. You were wasted and they were definitely not. You guys talked for a while, but then Wanda and Nat came to get you to go dance for a while. You didn’t give any fucks about who was watching, you were focused on not falling over.

“she is fucked up…” Bucky said

“Yea she is” Steve was concerned. He didn’t want you to hurt yourself.

You noticed that a lot of people had gone home, but to be honest, you didn’t know what time it was or who was still here. You felt a presence behind you and started dancing closer to them. Wanda gave you a look and you turned around and almost fell. Steve caught you in his arms. It took you a second to realize who it was.

“Oh fuck, I’m so sorry Captain” He liked that you called him that. The way you said it made him feel a type of way he couldn’t quite describe. He also knew that you were very, VERY drunk, and that he should take you back to your room. He guided you towards the hallway where all of your rooms were.

“Taking me to bed Captain?” you didn’t even realize what you said. When you were about to pass his room, you stopped and went to the door.

“This is my room” He thought you were just confused.

“I know.”

He opened the door and you fell onto his bed. He was kind of confused. You stood up shakily and turned around.

“Can you undo this please?” motioning to the zipper on the back of your dress. He kind of stood there for a second before he moved. He went into his dresser to get out some sweats and one of his hoodies. You smiled. You also had no fucking clue as to what was going on. He unzipped your dress just seeing the top part of your thong. You grabbed the clothes he gave to you, put them on and jumped into bed.

“Sleep well” he said as he walked towards the door to leave.

“Please stay with me?” you phrased it as a question, but he knew it was more of a command.

He thought about it for a second, then came into bed with you. Too bad you probably wouldn’t remember it in the morning. He fell asleep a lot faster than you did. He snored, which you didn’t mind, you thought it was kind of cute. Right when you were about to fall asleep you felt his arm wrap around you. This was nice.

[teenwolffanclub-me]

Season 1, Episode 7: Night School (Part One)

Hey there beautiful reader! If you’re new here, this is a series I’m writing where each chapter is an episode from the first season of Teen Wolf. If you’ve been here before, hey! I missed you! Previous and future chapters are linked at the end of each part if you want to catch up.

Pairing: Stiles x Psychic! Reader (eventually)

Notes: Okay, so. I’m updating two nights in a row because I couldn’t help but write this. Buckle up. This one’s a lot. It’s probably my favorite episode from the whole season and was super fun to write!

P.S. There’s a kiss. There’s a kiss. Guys, THERES FINALLY A REAL KISS! I hope you’re as excited as I am, otherwise this is kinda awkward...

                                                     ————————

I pulled the sides of Stiles’ jacket tighter around myself, trying to warm up. He’d practically shoved the thing into my hands when he noticed that I was shivering in just my t-shirt and shorts. The school was kept absolutely freezing at night, apparently.

After locking the door with plyers and deciding that it definitely wouldn’t hold a damn thing back, we ran into the nearest classroom. That’s where we all stood now, Scott and Stiles trying to move a huge desk in front of the door.

They only managed to move it about an inch before it squealed against the tiles. I cringed at the loud noise, my heart falling into my stomach as a feeling of dread washed over me.

“Wait. Stop, stop.” Stiles whispered. “The door’s not gonna keep it out.”

“I know—” Scott started, but Stiles quickly interrupted him, twitching with anxiety.

“It’s your boss.”

“What?” Scott sounded utterly offended by that theory.

“Deaton? The alpha? Your boss.” Stiles pointed an accusatory finger at Scott from across the desk.

“No.” Scott insisted with a shake of his head.

“Yes. A murdering psycho werewolf!” His voice grew harsh at the end, as if it was Scott’s fault. If it were even true.

I’d never met his boss, so I had no idea why Stiles would suspect him of being the alpha. To be honest, I was still ridiculously confused about what was going on at all.

“Why would it be him?” I prodded, crossing my arms in an attempt at containing some of my body heat.

They both sent a quick glance my way, but otherwise didn’t acknowledge my existence. My jaw clenched involuntarily as my chest tightened with frustration. I was so beyond over their stupid looks and stupid secrets.

“It can’t be.” Scott insisted again.

“Oh, come on. He disappears and ten seconds later that thing shows up to toss Derek twenty feet through the air? That’s not convenient timing?” Stiles threw his hands up in disbelief.

I mean, he had a point.

“It’s. Not. Him.” Scott said slowly, agitated that Stiles wouldn’t relent.

“He killed Derek.”

“Guys.” I interrupted, but they continued as if I hadn’t spoken.

“Derek’s not dead...” Scott began hyperventilating at the thought. “He-he can’t be dead.”

“Blood spurted out of his mouth, okay? That doesn’t exactly qualify as a minor injury. He’s dead. And we’re next.” Stiles rubbed at his forehead, pacing back and forth with worry.

“Guys.” I tried again, my hands tightening into fists at my sides as a surge of anger moved through me.

“Okay! Just. What do we do?”

“Get to my Jeep. We get out of here. You seriously think about quitting your job. Alright? Good?”

“Guys!” Both of their heads whipped in my direction at my outburst, as if just then hearing me for the first time. “One of you tell me what the hell is going on. Right now.”

Stiles scoffed and wagged an angry finger at me. “You shouldn’t be making any demands right now. You are not supposed to be here. I mean, how insane can you be, hanging around the school at night? What the hell were you thinking?” 

I just stared at him with a quirked eyebrow, waiting for him to process what he’d said. When he realized a moment later, he dropped his hand back to his side with a grimace.

“It doesn’t matter. She’s here now.” Scott shook his head, looking defeated. “Let’s just focus on getting out of here.”

“Or let’s focus on answering my questions.” I snapped, not ready to change the subject. “Because, right now, it’s not looking too hot for you guys. Correct me if I’m wrong, but it seems like you kidnapped—then lost—Scott’s boss. Had a secret meeting with Derek and summoned the alpha for some god forsaken reason!”

“That’s exactly what we did.” Stiles snarked with a swivel of his head.

I stared at him in stunned silence, my mouth hanging open. They must’ve lost their fucking minds if they thought any of that was a good idea. This is why they needed to keep me in the loop, so I could stop them from doing dumb shit like this.

Suddenly, frantic rattling sounded from behind me. I turned to see Scott trying to pry open one of the windows and rushed to his side. Stiles and I had been too busy fighting to notice him walk over there.

I put a hand on his, stopping him. “They don’t open. The school’s climate controlled.”

“Then we break it.” He chest was heaving up and down quickly as he struggled to get his breathing under control.

“That’ll make too much noise.” Stiles declared, joining us at my other side.

“We’ll run fast. Really fast.” His wide eyes moved from the two of us to the parking lot outside, and he stiffened. “Stiles, what’s wrong with the hood of your Jeep?”

“What do you mean? Nothing’s wrong.” He leaned closer to get a better look despite his dismissive tone.

“It’s bent.” Scott huffed, still staring out the window.

“What? You mean, like, dented?” Stiles jerked forward, pressing his chest into my back harshly.

I stumbled from the force of it, but caught myself on the windowsill before I could actually fall down. As we stood there, way too close together, I tried to ignore how good his body heat felt against me.

“No! I-I mean bent.”

“Well, what the hell happen—”

The window just above our heads shattered without warning, the sound deafeningly loud.

A pair of arms instantly wrapped around my waist and dragged me to the floor. I fell down between Stiles’ legs and felt one of his arms move up to shield our heads from the thousands of tiny glass shards that came twinkling to the tiles around us. 

Something boxy and heavy clunked to the floor before sliding a few feet away. One of Stiles’ hands left me to pick up the flashlight he’d dropped. He shakily illuminated whatever had come through the window, breathing erratically against me. My chest swelled with warmth at the way he’d instinctively protected me from the impact, but I didn't have much time to dwell on it.

“That’s my battery.” He fumbled around behind me, trying to get to his feet.

I rose onto my knees, mostly wanting to get out of his way, but part of me found our close proximity a little jarring and needed to create some space between us.

Scott slapped a hand on his shoulder before pulling him back down. “Don’t!”

“We have to move.” He snapped, shaking his arm free.

“He could be right outside.” Scott whispered harshly.

“Uh, I think he is right outside.” I huffed. There was no way that thing flew in here by itself, which meant whoever—or whatever—threw it couldn’t be far.

“Just let me take a look.” He tentatively moved into a crouch and just barely lifted his head high enough to see past the windowsill.

“Nothing?” Stiles asked, his voice light with hope.

Scott shook his head and Stiles immediately sprang to his feet. We quickly followed suit, walking briskly out of the classroom. The guys came up with the bright idea to get Derek’s keys off of his body—which was beyond gross—and take his car. We knew our best bet was to go through the boys locker room, because it has the least amount of windows in the building.

Once there, I quickly realized we’d walked ourselves into one of the furthest locations from an exit. If the alpha was in the school with us, we were pretty much trapped.

I really needed to stop letting them make the plans.

Just before I reached for the doorknob that would take us into the next hall, Scott grabbed my elbow. “Wait. I hear something.”

My breath stilled and I froze. That wasn’t a good sign. There shouldn’t be anyone here this late, including us. We stood there for a few seconds while he tried to figure it out, before his eyes widened and he moved a step away.

“Hide.” His voice quivered with fear as he continued walking backwards.

I turned on my heel, trying to find the closest place to conceal myself. Stiles almost immediately stepped into my path as he did the same and I huffed in annoyance. He was a few inches taller than me and completely blocked my view. We didn’t have time to fumble around, so I gripped his broad shoulders and shoved him into one of the lockers beside me.

Without thinking, I stepped in after him.

I only realized what I’d done once the door closed with a snap. His wide caramel eyes found mine in the low lighting, several intense emotions swirling inside them. My hands slid away from his shoulders until they rested on his heaving chest. It was a tight fit, so there were only about two inches of space between us.

My bottom lip rolled between my teeth as my face exploded with heat. We hadn’t been this close since the almost kiss that I will never be speaking of out loud. His gaze moved down to my mouth and I swallowed, my heart jumping into my throat.

Fear shot down my spine at the sound of slow footsteps outside the locker, all flustered Stiles-related thoughts leaving my mind instantly.

We both held our breath as whoever it was walked right past us. One of his arms snaked around my back before pulling me against him gently. My eyes flickered up to his in question, but his attention was firmly planted on the room outside the locker. I realized with a flutter deep in my stomach that the protective motion had been mostly absentminded.

When the room fell silent I relaxed slightly, thinking we were in the clear, until our locker door was ripped open harshly. I stumbled out a step at the sudden loss of support at my back, Stiles tripping out after me. Scott bolted from his own locker, eyes wide with fear.

After a few seconds of unintelligible yelling, we realized it was just the overnight janitor. I let out a shaky sigh of relief and put a hand on my chest to calm my racing heart. That was so close.

“Wait, wait.” Stiles folded over and rested his hands on his knees as he tried to steady his breathing. “Be quiet!”

“Quiet my ass! What the hell are you trying to do, kill me?” The janitor yelled, clearly angry at our unauthorized presence. “All of you, get the hell out.”

He fisted both Stiles and Scott’s shirts and began pulling them toward the exit.

“Just listen for half a second, okay?” Stiles tried to reason with him, but he was pretty shaken up.

“Not okay! Get the hell out of here right now.” I followed close behind as he shoved them back out into the hallway, chewing on my lip nervously.

This was so not good. Now we’d all end up with detention for the rest of the year, or worse, if we didn’t die first.

“Just give us one second to explain—”

“Shut up and go!” He’d barely finished barking the order before he was violently yanked backwards.

I gasped in shock and took a huge step back, pulling the boys with me. The locker room door slammed shut, and the janitor was thrown against it, blood splattering against the small window all around him. He let out a pained scream and fought against whatever was attacking him.

Scott ran to the door and tried opening it, only to find that it was somehow locked. The janitor continued struggling for a few seconds before being pulled away again, a low growl sounding from the room. Stiles jerked forward and forced Scott away from the door before grabbing me with his free hand and bolting down the hall.

We didn’t stop running until we reached the closest exit, but quickly realized that one of the huge dumpsters outside had been pushed against it. So not only was the alpha a bloodthirsty monster, but it was smart enough to trap us. Awesome.

“I’m not dying here.” Stiles said shakily as we started walking down the hall to find another exit. “I’m not dying at school.”

“We’re not going to die.” Scott tried to reasure, not sounding all that confident himself.

“God, what is it doing? What does it want?” Stiles threw his hands up in exasperation, momentarily blinding me with his flashlight.

“Me! Derek said it’s stronger with a pack.”

“Great.” I scoffed, wrapping my arms tighter around myself as I walked between them. “A psychotic werewolf that’s into teamwork. That’s just beautiful.”

Scott suddenly stopped and looked out one of the windows beside us. His head tilted as he squinted into the night. He took a tentative step forward, as if trying to get a better view, but almost immediately jumped backward.

“What? What is it?” I breathed, a jolt of fear shooting through me at his reaction.

My eyes practically bulged out of my head as I caught sight of the alpha on the roof. It started barreling our way and we took off down the hall, the wall of windows shattering behind us. My heart was pounding painfully in my chest as I ran as fast as humanly possible. The sounds of the monster’s grunting and growling behind us made my stomach churn painfully.

We made our way down a flight of stairs, which took us into the boiler room. I put a hand over my mouth to silence my ragged breathing as we stood with our backs pressed tightly against a wall of lockers. I could still hear the alpha growling from around the corner and pinched my eyes shut tightly.

There was no way we weren’t about to die.

Scott silently gestured for us to move, so we quickly bolted around the corner toward an open area in the room.

“Alright, we have to do something.” Stiles jerked the flashlight in the direction of the growling.

“Like what?” I asked incredulously. What could any of us do? Even Scott, who has werewolf abilities, would be no match for this thing.

“I don’t know. Kill it? Hurt it? Inflict mental anguish on it? Something.” A sound from the other side of the room had Stiles twitching in fear, but he sighed and rubbed a hand down his face when he realized it was only the furnace kicking on.

We all tiptoed back past the lockers, terrified that the alpha could be anywhere. Stiles shined his flashlight across the room, and my anxiety skyrocketed as I realized that the exit was a good fifteen feet away. To make matters worse, another growl echoed through the space, and it sounded close. 

Stiles suddenly walked around to my other side and dug one of his hands into the pocket of his jacket that I was still wearing. My eyes followed his movements as he fished out his car keys and held them up, looking determined. He and Scott shared a quick glance before he chucked the keys through a nearby doorway. 

Instantly, the alpha charged forward from the shadows, going straight into the closet. The guys rushed toward the door before slamming it shut and dragging a random desk in front of it. I ended up standing on one side of the desk, with Scott and Stiles on the other. It slammed against the discarded cabinets on the other side of the narrow hall when the alpha tried getting out. 

Okay, that worked a little too well. 

It slammed once, twice, three more times.

Then, nothing. 

We all looked at each other in amazed silence. There was no way it was actually stuck. We’d done it? Just like that?

Stiles started leaning over the desk, toward the small window in the closet door, until Scott roughly slapped his shoulder. “What are you doing?!”

“I just want to get a look at it.” He put his hands up defensively. 

“Are you crazy?” I whispered, shocked that his first instinct wasn't to run far away. But Stiles was nothing if not curious. 

His eyes met mine over the desk. “Look, it’s trapped. Okay? It’s not gonna get out.”

While his confidence was slightly reassuring, I knew in my gut that it was too good to be true. There was no way catching this thing would be that easy. Stiles jumped up onto the desk, landing on his knees easily. He leaned forward, his tongue sweeping across his bottom lip in concentration. 

“Yeah, that's right.” He muttered, shining the flashlight into the makeshift cage. 

“Dude. Shut up!” Scott hissed desperately, still freaking out. 

“I’m not scared of this thing.” Stiles insisted with a glare, but frantically scrambled to the floor when a clawed hand slammed against the window.

Yeah. Liar. 

“Y/N, get across.” He breathed hastily. “Come on!”

I was about to do just that, one leg already propped up on the desk, when a few ceiling tiles in the closet came tumbling down. I froze, fear licking up my spine, and turned my head slowly to peer inside the small room. The tiles above me started denting, one by one, with every heave of my chest.

It was in the ceiling. 

The alpha was in the ceiling. 

“Y/N.” Scott pleaded, one hand outstretched toward me. His head was tilted up as he watched the alpha’s path. 

Metal and wood groaned above me from it’s added weight as it continued moving at an agonizingly slow pace. I held my breath in anticipation, my body beginning to tremble with terror.

Then, it broke through. I let out a startled scream at the sight of the alpha only a few feet away. It was on my side of the desk, staring right at me. I looked into its glowing red eyes and felt nothing but complete and utter dread. 

I was going to die. 

My mind could find no other alternative as the beast huffed and growled in place. 

“Y/N.” Stiles’ voice quivered from behind me. “You need to get over here. Right now.”

“I don't really think that's an option.” I muttered through clenched teeth, trying to be as still and quiet as possible. 

The alpha suddenly sprang forward, a hand clamping down on my shoulder at the same moment. I was pulled across the desk harshly, my feet barely landing on the floor before I was being yanked away. The three of us sprinted down the hall before ducking into a nearby classroom. Scott slammed the door behind us and I tried desperately to catch my breath. 

“Oh, thank God.” Stiles huffed from beside me, his tone seeping with relief. 

Before I knew what was happening, his hands were cradling either side of my face. He jerked me toward him gently and crashed his lips against mine. I stiffened in shock at the unexpected move and he took a step forward, causing my back to slam into the wall behind me. My eyes fluttered shut when his chest pressed against mine firmly as he closed every possible distance between us. 

My body responded with a mind of its own, my lips moving fluidly with his. My fingers came up to wrap around his wrists as his hands slid down to the sides of my neck. 

Then, just as quickly as it appeared, his skin was gone from mine. I leaned forward, not fully processing that he wasn't kissing me anymore. My eyes popped open and they locked onto his, which were wide with realization. 

Holy shit. 

Did that just happen?

Heat crawled up my neck. Stiles stammered silently, his eyes twitching. He suddenly walked to Scott’s side who, to be fair, looked equally as speechless about what he had just witnessed. Stiles put a hand around Scott’s head and gave him a big kiss on the cheek. 

“Th-thank God you’re okay. Both of you. Yeah. Just. Doing the totally normal thing where you kiss your friends after they almost die. Yep.”

“Totally.” Scott quipped, a smirk pulling at the side of his lips.

Before I could even begin to fathom an appropriate response, my phone started ringing loudly in my pocket. I hastily yanked it free and answered it without even looking at the caller I.D. I just needed the noise to stop. 

“Y/N, are you busy?” Any other time I would’ve been relieved to hear Allison’s voice, but not right now, while the alpha could be outside waiting to kill us.

“Uh.” I tried to steady my breathing so she wouldn't become suspicious. “Kinda.”

“What are you doing?” She sounded slightly scared herself, and I wondered the same thing. 

“Just...what’s up?” Scott and Stiles both glared at me and I put a hand up dismissively. 

“Um. Well. You know how I was supposed to see Scott tonight? He never showed. Then I got this strange text from him and now I’m at the school and—”

“You’re at the school?” I tried to keep the panic from my voice, but it was still easily detectable even to my own ears. 

“I know, I know. But Lydia and Jackson insisted—”

“They’re here too?” I practically shrieked. This could not be happening. 

I knew Scott was listening to the whole thing, because his eyes were growing wider and wider with each of Allison’s responses. 

“Wait. Did you say here? Are you at the school too?”

I just shook my head, needing this conversation to speed up exponentially. “Where are you right now?”

“On the first floor.” She said slowly, catching on that something was wrong. 

“Where? Where exactly?” I pressed, my voice growing urgent. 

“The swimming pools...?” She trailed off, clearly curious about my sudden pushiness. 

That wasn't far from here. We could probably make it to her quickly if we all met up somewhere in the middle. 

“Get to the lobby. You have to go now.” I tried to keep my voice down, still very aware that the alpha could be right outside the classroom door. 

She hesitated for a moment, and I worried she would ask more questions. We did not have time for that. “Okay, okay. I’m coming.”

We hung up and I let my arm fall down to my side slowly, my attention moving to the crestfallen expression on Scott’s face. I was pretty sure we were all thinking the same thing. 

This just got so, so much worse.

Episode 6       Episode 7, Part Two

[chilling-seavey]

Heartbreak Hotel (d.s.) - Chapter Twenty-Three

A/N What wouldn’t Daniel do...

T/W Physical violence 

“Where’d you run off to yesterday?” Jack asked as Daniel slid onto his usual stool.

Daniel slouched forward against the counter with a tired sigh, “I ran into Loretta.”

Jack paused his polishing of cutlery and waved Zach over from tending to a table. Zach rushed over to join them, pausing to slide the order slip to the kitchen before giving Daniel his full attention. 

“She said Corbyn forbid her from seeing me and she wants me to leave her alone. Forever.”

“Wait, what?” Zach frowned. He and Jack exchanged confused glances. “But you just gave her the best night of her life pretty much.”

“Yeah…well…” Daniel faded out with a shrug.

“So what, she’s just going to ignore the fact that you’re chemically, biologically, emotionally, and physically made for each other?” Jack scoffed.

“Apparently. Because Corbyn makes the rules now.” Daniel mumbled, picking at the countertop.

Jack continued polishing the cutlery and organizing them into the plastic bin in front of him, only shaking his head in disbelief.

“So after all, that it just takes her to say ‘leave me alone’ for you to drop all you’ve worked for?” Zach asked.

“It just…” Daniel sighed, straightening up on the stool. “It just makes me so angry that she lets him boss her around all the time.”

“Well that’s how it works in society. At least she’s a well-behaved girlfriend.” Jack mumbled, offering the play of devil’s advocate. Zach elbowed him under Daniel’s depressed pout in their direction. Jack sighed, glancing back up at Daniel before turning back to his polishing, “I’m not going to tell you what to do because you have your own head on your shoulders; but you spent the last month and a half chasing after this girl and it would be a coward move if you just gave up.”

“She doesn’t want anything to do with me though.” Daniel said.

“She only doesn’t want anything to do with you because Corbyn told her that’s what she wants.” Zach corrected.

Daniel chuckled humourlessly, shaking his head tiredly. His heart still ached but he pushed it down with the anger that was growing inside of him at the unfairness of the whole situation.

Zach continued, “You’ve got to do something about it, Daniel.”

“Have a civil conversation with the guy.” Jack said. “Sit down like men and talk it out.”

“Corbyn doesn’t seem like the talking type.” Daniel grumbled.

His friends were silent for a moment and Daniel raised his eyes from the counter to look up at them, frowning as their surprised faces were staring out the front window of the diner. Daniel turned to look over his shoulder just as the bell above the door rang and Corbyn and Jonah walked in, dressed in their usual black leather. The air was thick with tension the second they stepped foot in the diner and Daniel turned quickly back to avoid being caught starting, tugging at his shirt collar as if breathing was suddenly difficult.

“Jesus.” Daniel swore under his breath.

Jack smirked, polishing a handful of butter knives in his hand, “The universe really does work in weird ways, huh?”

Corbyn and Jonah glanced over to the group of three at the counter and Daniel didn’t dare look up, keeping his head down and back turned to them.

“Does he see me?” he whispered.

“Uh huh.” Zach answered quietly, staring right back at the two friends, watching as they glared distastefully at them and then found a seat in one of the booths together.

“You can stop hiding under the counter now.” Jack said.

Daniel raised his head slowly, “I wasn’t hiding under the counter.”

“Might as well have been.” Jack said. “Just go over there and ask him what’s going on.”

“I can’t do that.” Daniel could feel his heart racing in his chest, some sort of adrenaline starting to pump through his veins just at the sight of Corbyn and Jonah sitting across the restaurant.

Jack spoke lowly like he was the devil on Daniel’s shoulder, “He’s taking your future from you.”

“The future you’ve only dreamt of your whole life.” Zach added.

“And the one you already had a taste of.”

“He’s undeserving of her.”

“You going to let him get his way with it like this?”

“Do you want to be miserable the rest of your life after you had a glimpse of what could be?”

Daniel got up from the stool before he could second guess, fueled by his friends’ words, and started right over towards the booth across the diner. He felt like he was walking outside of himself; some strange out of body experience as he approached the table, maybe caused by the dose of adrenaline that was filling him. Daniel was never an aggressive person whatsoever and Jack and Zach knew that well; not worried at all as they watched their best friend saunter across the tile floor.

The moment Corbyn raised his head and his eyes landed right on Daniel’s, the younger boy let everything out like a dam breaking.

“Who do you think you are?” Daniel snapped as strongly as he could.

Jack and Zach glanced at each other with entertained and surprised expressions before turning back to the scene a few feet away.

Corbyn cracked a small smile and looked across the table to Jonah before looking back up to Daniel, “What the hell are you talking about?”

“You have no right to tell Loretta what she can or cannot do!” Daniel smacked his palm on the table for emphasis.

Corbyn’s eyebrows raised, “Oh really?”

“Yes, really! She can do as she pleases, and you cannot boss her around like you are! You…You can’t tell her that she can’t see me!”

“Well, that’s where you’re wrong, Seavey.” Corbyn said coolly, leaning towards him over the table, “She’s my girl so therefore she’s mine to do as I please with. Do you have an issue with that?”

“Yes.” Daniel jabbed back.

A few other patrons were glancing over at the teenagers and their small argument.

“Why’s that, Seavey? You think you can come in here and swipe up my girl? You already took her on a date and nearly kissed her in your car – don’t think I didn’t see that – and I already warned you to not try anything funny. You’re a pathetic little boy. You don’t know one thing about life.”

“I know that she’s not your soulmate!” Daniel shouted.

Corbyn’s stern stare turned stone in a millisecond and Daniel nearly shuttered under the intensity of it. There was a beat of silence.

Corbyn grabbed the front of Daniel’s shirt and tugged him close until they were nearly nose to nose and Daniel was leaning half over the table, staring fearfully right into Corbyn’s grey eyes. He could feel his breath on his face.

“What gave you the balls to say that bullshit?” Corbyn seethed.

“She told me! She’s been lying to you the whole time and I think you’ve been lying to her too! You’re not her soulmate; I am!” Daniel said. “You’re nothing more than a phony and too much of a coward to go find your real soulmate and let Loretta be actually happy!”

Corbyn was off the bench in a flash and pulled Daniel towards the door by the front of his shirt. He walked so briskly that even Jonah couldn’t get up to follow them in time; everyone’s eyes turning to follow them out the front door of the diner with Daniel nearly tripping over his feet as Corbyn shoved him out onto the sidewalk. Daniel hadn’t even caught his footing before Corbyn delivered a punch right to his nose, sending the smaller boy stumbling backwards.

“Shit!” Jack gasped and he and Zach tossed down their cutlery to rush outside, Jonah right in front of them.

Daniel was powerless against Corbyn’s strength, barely getting his hands in front of his face to defend himself before Corbyn hit him again, and then once more, sending him toppling backwards onto the sidewalk. The patrons of the diner gathered at the windows to watch the fight unfold as Corbyn straddled Daniel’s body and delivered punch after punch to his face until blood was coating his knuckles and splattered onto the pavement.

Daniel could barely even move, too in shock to register what was even happening. All he could feel was the metal of Corbyn’s ring colliding with his face and this aching warmth that spread all over his body before his brain could even process the pain.

“Get off him!” Jack grabbed at Corbyn’s arm to try and drag him off his best friend but Jonah pulled him away, glaring down at Jack and Zach in near warning. A crowd was forming around the scene on the sidewalk, the sickening sound of the hard punches bringing more people around.

Corbyn paused to grab the front of Daniel’s shirt and pulled his head off the pavement, shouting down at him, “I told you to mind your own fucking business!”

Daniel only coughed, blood dribbling down his chin from his split lip. Corbyn punched him again before standing up and kicking him right in the stomach, sending the crowd gasping and Daniel to double over in agony on the sidewalk.

“Hey, asshole!” Jack dodged Jonah’s arm and went right over to Corbyn and gave him a rough shove.

Corbyn caught his fist before Jack could hit him and delivered a hard punch to him stomach, forcing the air right out of Jack’s lungs until he was gasping and stumbling onto the ground himself. Zach crouched to tend to Jack as Corbyn turned back to Daniel. He kicked him once more in the stomach and then used the heel of his boot to push Daniel flat onto his back against the pavement. Corbyn bent down right in front of him and lifted Daniel up by two hands on the front of his blood-stained shirt again,

“Had enough yet?” Corbyn seethed.

Daniel let out a small whimper, earning him one last punch to his nose before sound of heavy footfalls from down the sidewalk got louder as two police officers came running to see what was going on.

Jonah rushed over and grabbed Corbyn’s arm to pull him away, “We gotta get out of here.”

Corbyn stood up, staring down at Daniel on the sidewalk and he stretched his right hand out, blood staining his knuckles and he flexed his fingers a moment before leaning over the younger boy. He spat down on him distastefully before offering a vicious, “You hear me, Seavey? You stay the fuck away from me and my girl or I’ll finish you off.”

Jonah and Corbyn disappeared quickly down the street, leaving Daniel laying weak on the sidewalk. Zach rushed over to him and set his gentle hands on his best friend’s shoulders as he assessed the damage. Daniel winced as he moved slightly, reaching a shaking hand up to swipe the blood from his nose and he let out a small sob as he took in the deep red on his fingertips and he rested his head back against the pavement.

Daniel stared straight up to the sky, the forms of Zach, Jack, and the officers leaning over him fading into the glare of the LA sun. 

[elldell1204]

Nightmare - Upstead Fic

This is my first Upstead fic, so I really hope you like it as I am so proud of it 😊 It’s starts towards the end of 7x09 and is an alternative, more tense ending to the actual episode/storyline, in my opinion. Enjoy!

wc - 3,688

“Angela.” It was almost a whisper, that’s how dry his throat was and how weak he had grown over the last twenty-four hours of almost constant beatdowns. Not only did Jay have to deal with the physical torture, but the mental one too. Every moment that led up to where he was right now was being replayed in his head, seeing as he has nothing more to do. Being the type of guy who always tries to find a way to improve himself in every way possible, he’s picking apart each second, imagining the hundreds of different ways things could have gone differently if he had just let the call go to voicemail, told his partner where he was going, gone in with backup, heard the guy’s footsteps behind him, fought him off. Hell, he was even going back as far as to question his quick decision of Marcus West being the one responsible for the murder of two young boys. He sees now though that he was getting too involved, being too emotional, trying his absolute best not to slip into the cold, heartless shell of a man that returned from Afghanistan all those years ago to the point where he went too far and got an innocent man killed. 

“Angela.” He tried again, prying the eye open that wasn’t glued shut with dried blood from the gash on his forehead. “Kick one of those pipes over to me.”

The woman that sat slumped against the pipes across from him raised her head. But she didn’t meet his eyes. How could she after what he had just revealed to her? The man before her had murdered her husband, in her mind. And even though her only chance at survival was to work with him, she had absolutely no desire in her heart to do so. He deserved to die, and if that meant that she would too, then so be it. But every time her thoughts ventured there, she reminded herself of her son. He already lost his father, so he needed his mother more than ever.

“C’mon, Angela.” He had managed to free his left hand by now, the ropes that once bound him hanging loose from his wrist as he gestured towards the objects in question. “We gotta work together if we’re gonna get outta here, so you have to kick one over, c’mon, please. It’s the only way.”

It was then she lifted her eyes to his. The dark chestnut pools had lost all life and purpose and were emotionally empty, barring the harsh disgust that was boring holes straight through to Jay’s soul, so deep he could sense it bubbling inside him, the feeling so undeniably familiar, being that he felt it towards himself the night he discovered his mistake, unable to correct it as it was too late.

***

Unbeknownst to Jay, his beloved unit was rallying outside the very building he was being held prisoner in, ready to take down an army if it meant they’d save him.

Voight was dishing out orders to each of them, but Hailey wasn’t listening, not really. She knew she’d do anything to get to Jay, even if it meant going against the boss’ orders or putting her own life in danger. Thoughts of how she could be so stupid to let him go without backup or to get her hopes up that he’d be in the van for the exchange kept swirling around in her brain. But she had to be totally focused on the now. The next few minutes could land anywhere on the spectrum between the most ideal scenario of finding him perfectly okay and finding him in a lifeless heap on the floor. She had to be alert and ready for anything.

That’s why she didn’t hesitate when Kevin hoisted her up to crawl through the vent in the wall.

***

It was now or never. The weaker of their two captors had come down the stairs a few seconds ago, armed with a water bottle and a fresh dressing for Angela’s wound. Now he was knelt down beside her, applying it whilst trying to keep down whatever he had for lunch. It was pretty much useless. She needed a miracle after the amount of blood she had already lost, and still it kept gushing out, even though Jay was pretty sure she didn’t have a much left.

“There you go.” The man announced, getting to his feet but staying crouched.

“Can I have some water?” Jay piped up, adrenaline starting to seep into his blood at the mere thought of the feat he was going to have to pull off.

The man simply looked over his shoulder at the battered and bruised body behind him, showing no objection nor acceptance.

“Please, man.” Jay begged now, his voice breathier to play the part.

The man’s gaze returned and stayed on Angela as he grabbed the water bottle, stepping backwards towards Jay when the harsh ringing of the metal pipe echoed throughout the murky basement as it collided with his head.

After he dropped to the floor, Jay checked he was out cold before sliding the rope, tied to his right wrist, off the pipe. He attempted to get to his feet, but he felt the room spin and decided on crawling until his blood pressure went back up. He once again checked the man was unconscious along with casting a glance over to the stairs to make sure the other guy wasn’t on his was to beat the crap out of him. Satisfied with the answer to both, he searched his victim’s pockets for a weapon of any kind. He found a switchblade, and although he would have preferred a gun, it would have to do. He then grabbed the pipe before crossing the short distance to Angela, kneeling down beside her.

“You did good.” He said, a little out of breath, as he used to knife to cut through the ropes that tethered her to the pipes like he was. The only acknowledgement he got was a helpless whimper and a sad little nod.

“Okay, stay here,” he gave the pipe to Angela, then laid a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “I’m going after the other one.”

And he was up. As stealthily as he could, he climbed the stairs, attempting to stay flat to the wall and out of sight. He could hear the words flowing from the other guy’s mouth, anger lacing each one, along with heavy footsteps reverberating across the floor above him. Then after a deep breath, he emerged, sprinting towards the guy who had his back turned. That was until Jay was about three feet away, when he promptly turned and fought back, blocking the slashes of Jay’s hand with his forearm and landing a punch to Jay’s gut with his other hand. It didn’t stop Jay though, he swung and he swung, and he knew, he knew that he’d have this guy by now if he wasn’t so goddamn weak and in pain.

The guy managed to forcefully shove Jay away from him, long enough to raise his revolver and fire a shot off. A lucky shot. One that ripped through the flesh of Jay’s shoulder like it was paper.

And he screamed.

A guttural scream that resonated from somewhere deep inside of him as the pain ripped through him. He staggered backwards, clutching at his wound whilst the agony set in.

And he was so goddamn close to getting out of there.

“Jay!”

He heard it. And though it was fairly far away, he couldn’t mistake that voice for anyone else’s.

Hailey.

Oh, how he cursed himself for not telling her how he felt before. He knew how unreliable tomorrow is, he’d experienced it first-hand with too many people, yet still he had assumed it was going to come around. Now all he had left to ease the pain of his stupidity was to convince himself that she would be better off without him. She deserves so much better than him. He was a murderer, essentially. And we’re not talking the bad guys, here. Marcus West had been on his conscious since the day he died, and despite the numerous assurances from multiple people that it wasn’t his fault that he died, he knew in his heart that at least some part of it was. He reverted his mind back to Hailey as he waited for the second and fatal shot to come his way. After all, if he was going to go out, he knew it would be a lot more peaceful if his thoughts were filled with bright blonde hair, bright blue eyes that remined him of the sky on the most perfect of sunny days and the infectious smile that could make him feel whole when he caused it.

***

She heard the gunshot. She’d heard hundreds before, but this one, the one that was most likely the difference between life and death for her partner, was the loudest. So loud it made her heart stop and legs go weak at the same time. It felt as if the walls were suffocating her, coaxing her into an unconscious state where nothing was real. Not like a dream, but less of a nightmare than the one she was living in now.

But she clutched onto reality, staying awake and hauling herself back into the moment.

“Jay!” She screamed as powerful as she could, her legs finding the strength to sprint in the direction of the gunshot. It was her only way of telling him that she was there and begging him to hold on, for her.

She needs him alive. She needs him to have her back, in every aspect of life. She needs him to make her smile when everything else seems dreary.

She needs him.

***

“C’mon, pretty boy.”

Jay was only partially conscious as he was half dragged, half stumbling up the steps to the roof. He had no idea what this guy was doing. Why didn’t he just finish him off when he had the chance?

They practically burst through the door and onto the roof, the guy shoving Jay so that he fell to his knees in from of him. He groaned, but still managed to get to his feet, albeit achingly slowly. Turning to face his captor, he was met with the barrel of a gun.

“Who are you?” The man seethed. “You told us your name was Jim, but that girl shouted Jay.”

Jay didn’t say a word. He just maintained eye contact with his one good eye.

“And the way you fought me...I have to give it to you; you were pretty damn good.” The man chuckled sadistically before stopping abruptly. “Which makes it very likely that you’re a cop.”

Jay’s eyes must have flickered, because the man soon cocked the revolver, taking a step forward and urging Jay to take a step back.

“Fuck.” The man grimaced. “I knew it.”

“You’re done, man.” Jay said, seeing his chance to negotiate. “It’s over, you can’t win. So either shoot me and get charged with the murder of a police officer, or let me go. You can escape, if you’re quick, and no one will even know you were here. I’ll tell them your buddy was the only guy and he was the one who shot me.”

He genuinely seemed to consider it, only for a second, before a rage burned in his eyes stronger than Jay had ever witnessed before.

“Why can’t I have both things that I want? You, dead, and escape.” He inched further forward, the barbaric smile returning, and Jay stepped further back. “As far as I know, you fell off the roof trying to let your cop buddies know you were up here.”

That’s when Jay realised how close to the edge he was, and a lump grew in his throat.

***

“Where the hell is he?” Hailey shouted, slamming her hands down on the table beside her. The rest of the unit, which had recently regrouped after sweeping the warehouse, flinched at the loud bang but understood her frustration as they felt it themselves. Hailey found the spot where the gunshot had happened; the blood splatter on the wall tipped her off. The first place she looked was down the stairs, but she had only found Angela, slouched against the wall, and one of the captors, laid out unconscious. But no gun, and no Jay.

“There’s only two exits, and Kim and Rojas have them covered. Let’s do another sweep of the warehouse, they can’t have just disappeared.” Voight ordered, and they all dispersed, except Hailey, who still had both hands firmly planted on the table as she breathed deeply, grasping onto the little composure she had left.

That’s when she realised there were more than two exits. There was one leading onto the roof.

She sprinted off towards the stairs that she’d memorised from the blueprints and climbed them faster than she thought humanly possible. When she reached the roof, she couldn’t help but to throw open the door, her gun raised ready to fire. And as she stepped out onto the roof, she took a split second to thank her past self for taking an extra few minutes to look over the blueprints one last time.

***

Both men heard the door open, only Jay had the advantage of being the one facing it. Which is why he had a few second lead of seeing the flurry of blonde hair rushing out. And also why he had the chance, whilst his captor turned to see what the noise was, to grab the gun and attempt to pry it from his hands. But the attempt was unsuccessful, mainly down to the fact only one of his arms was currently operational, so it resulted in a struggle of tangled limbs and grunts as each man tried to claim the gun as their own. That also meant that Hailey didn’t have a clear shot in fear of shooting her partner.

But suddenly she wished she had taken the chance and trusted her skills when both bodies tumbled off the roof.

She couldn’t move. She was fixed in place in fear of seeing her partner, her best friend, falling to his death. That’s when she heard the crack, the one from the bodies hitting the sidewalk, and it was then that every fibre of her being wanted to shatter. She wanted to fall to her hands and knees and wail and howl until she was hoarse and her tears had formed puddles below her.

But she didn’t. She ran to the edge of the building where she braced herself before looking over, ready to confirm her worst nightmare. And down on the pavement were mangled limbs and spattered blood surrounding them.

And Jay grasping onto a protruding metal pole with his right hand, his body dangling precariously as he grits his teeth to endure the pain.

Hailey couldn’t believe it. She wasn’t religious, but she thanked whoever was looking down right now for the miracle that just occurred.

“Jay!” She shouted, and you could tell she was on the threshold of breaking down from the way even the single syllable she spoke wobbled with unshed tears. She reached down her hand to grab his wrist, but she knew she wasn’t going to be able to pull him up on her own, even if she had all the adrenaline in the world pumping through her veins. “Help! On the roof!”

She screamed it once. Twice. Three times. All the while, keeping her grip on Jay’s wrist as he hung helplessly. But she could tell he was getting tired, and he was already weak to begin with. The next time she spoke she couldn’t stop the tears from falling.

“Just hold on, Jay, please. Please hold on.” It came out almost in sobs, but she was so desperate for him to stay strong that she didn’t care.

“Oh my god, Hailey!” Kevin shouted from the top of the stairs behind her. She heard his footsteps racing across the gravel before he dropped to his stomach beside her and looked over the edge. He didn’t hesitate to grab Jay’s arm, both him and Hailey heaving the man up and onto the roof.

And that’s where he gave up, falling to his back as the agony washed over him in full force, the adrenaline wearing off in its entirety.

“Jay, stay with me. Stay with me.” Hailey cried out, her bright blonde hair and fresh blue eyes as crystalline as the lake on a summer’s day being the last thing he remembers before slipping into unconsciousness.

***

The next thing he knows, the repetitive beep of the monitor and the chemical smell that lingers in the air is what he’s waking up to, along with the warm hand that is interlocked with his own and keeping him close. He flickers open his eyes, letting them adjust to the harsh white light before opening them fully and looking around. His brother is leant against the doorframe, watching him as he stirs before catching his eyes and smiling gratefully. To his right is a mess of blonde hair splayed out over the covers as Hailey rests her head and her eyes. He can tell she’s asleep from her slow breathing, but she looks anything but peaceful. He turns his attention back to Will, who is now walking gently towards him.

“Hey little bro,” he whispers. “You gave us quite a scare.”

“Can’t get rid of me that easily.” Jay quipped, his voice hoarse, managing a small smile.

Will merely smirked before explaining what happened when they got to the hospital, speaking quietly at Jay’s request so he didn’t wake Hailey. Once he was done, he left with a nod and a remark about letting the two lovebirds have some time together.

Jay inhaled and exhaled deeply before gathering the courage to wake Hailey. He ran his fingers through her hair then caressed her cheek with his thumb until she stirred. She sat up, a little disoriented at first but she soon came back to earth. That’s when she realised what woke her, and any remnants of sleep were quickly shaken away.

“You’re awake.” She breathed out, a little disbelieving despite the surgeon saying he was due to make a full recovery.

“So are you.” He smirked.

Silence hung in the air once more, but it was neither comfortable nor awkward. Both of them could tell there were words that needed to be said, but they couldn’t find the right ones. Somewhat luckily, that’s when Voight decided to grace them with his presence.

***

It was a little later now, and Hailey had just returned from work to sit with Jay again. He wasn’t being discharged for a least another few days, much to his dismay, but he was glad that she was there to make the wait more enjoyable. Whilst she was gone, he figured out what he wanted to say to her, the exact words, only when she stepped into the room a few minutes ago, they seemed to escape him. But it was now or never, so he threw caution to the wind and went with what his heart was telling him.

“Hailey?” It was a little louder than a whisper that he managed at first, but she heard and was up on her feet in no time.

“What is it? Are you in pain? Should I get a nurse? Or are you thirsty? I can get you some water…” She was a little on edge. She wasn’t used to seeing her partner, the war vet, the first person through the door, so incapacitated and…weak.

“No, no, I’m good.” He chuckled, and she relaxed, exhaling deeply and sitting down on the edge of the bed before meeting his eyes. He smiled softly, as did she. “You saved me.”

“Well, Kevin was the one to- “

“No, Hailey, you saved me. When that guy shot me, I was so close to giving up. I was so sure that that was it, that I was going to die on the cold, stone floor of a warehouse. But then I heard your voice. It gave me hope, it reminded me I had something, someone, worth fighting for, so close to me that I could hear you. And I was devastated when he dragged me up to that roof, but I knew that you’d find me if I just kept him talking, and you did, and you saved me again. And then when we fell, I grabbed onto that pipe, but I was so tired, Hailey, I didn’t think I was going to keep hold of it much longer. But then you told me to hold on, and I knew that I had to because if I didn’t, I wouldn’t be able to hear your voice again, I wouldn’t see your smile light up a room again or hear your laugh and have it make my day. And I realised, Hailey, that I couldn’t let go, because that would mean giving up on a chance of having the most amazing life with you, and I could never pass that up in a million years. So, yes, Hailey, you saved me.”

That’s when he realised that she had silent tears streaming down her face, but a small smile graced her features.

“Jay…I…” She started, but she too was unable to put her feelings into words, as none seemed to convey the immensity of them. So she leaned down and captured his lips with her own, cupping the back of his head with her hand, kissing him so sweetly and passionately that she poured a thousand words worth of her feelings into that one kiss. It was like everything around them vanished, as if nothing else existed but them. He returned it immediately, holding her cheek in his palm, and they bared their souls, showing how much love they have for one another, and suddenly they both felt utterly complete.