#of course his doctor is painfully i love with the woman who killed all his friends and permanently traumatized him

[princescar]

whats wrong with him

Inspired by that tweet and this scene from dr0

anyway this was expression practice bc im so burnt out help

[becca-e-barnes]

Take Care of Everything

This is my first ever fic for a writing challenge omg I’m so excited! Huge congratulations to @balenciagabucky for hitting 3K followers!! That’s such a huge milestone and thank you for organising such a fun challenge! So excited to read the rest of the submissions 💗 @dulceslibrary

Pairing: Personal Assistant! Bucky Barnes x Lawyer! Reader

Word Count: 3.5k maybe?

Summary: There’s only one thing in your life that your PA doesn’t take care of

Warnings: Smut, praise kink, pet names, protected sex (go me for writing something safe sex for a change), court mention, lil fluff, mile high club

Minors, do not interact.

“Un-fucking-believable.” You couldn’t stop the roaring boil of the blood in your veins, storming out of the court room with your long black gown billowing behind you. Being one of the top barristers in the country brought it’s fair share of high profile cases but this one had got on every last nerve in your body and you were out of patience.

The case itself wasn’t the problem. The issues were straightforward enough and applying law to fact, at the most basic level, your client had done nothing wrong. It should have been essentially cut and dry. The problem was the opposing council and the lack of intervention from the judge.

The prosecution had torn your witness to shreds. You had tried to warn the poor woman beforehand, as you did with every client, but on the stand, she had just crumbled under such an intense and downright ignorant line of questioning.

It shouldn’t have even been allowed in the first place. The judge should have stepped in and clipped the opposing council’s wings but the damage was already done and now you would have to pick the pieces up when court resumed on Monday.

“How did it go?” Your personal assistant must have been leaning outside the courtroom door for who knows how long, his suit somehow as neat and pristine as always, despite the fact it was the end of the day.

“Fucking dreadful, Terry was an asshole to Andrea and she lost it. Should’ve known he’d pull shit like that, he’s always a cunt on Friday evenings.” You practically spat the words out, heels clicking on the floor as you made your way down the marble hall to collect your things and begin to put an end to this miserable week.

Part of you almost wanted to laugh at how Bucky had developed the skill of being able to keep up with your pace without even having to look up from his blackberry. That only came from years of practice.

“Terry loves playing with fire. Fuck him. If anyone can put him in his place on Monday, it’s you.” Bucky still hadn’t taken a second to pull his nose up from his phone, his steps landing in perfect time with yours until you reached the chamber at the end of the hall, throwing the heavy wooden door open in front of you. Bucky filtered in behind you of course, closing the door behind him before slipping his phone neatly into his pocket.

“Thought your doctor warned you about your blood pressure? You gotta calm down.” Bucky’s face showed he was genuinely concerned, his eyebrows knitted together in disdain but there was nothing new there. He had worked for you for years now and truth be told, he was damn good at his job, not to mention the fact he was the closest thing to a friend your busy schedule allowed you to have.

“I’ll calm down when I’m dead. We need to get to the airport if we’re going to make that flight for the convention.” You pulled your wig off, setting it neatly into the little wooden closet before removing your gown, hanging it up alongside the other worn ones from earlier in the week so they could all be dry cleaned and back in the closet for Monday.

“It’s a private jet honey, it can’t leave without you.” Bucky laughed softly, knowing you were worked up and hoping a little joke would ease the tension.

You had to admit, you were so thankful for Bucky. He was devoting the prime of his life to making sure you had everything you needed, your life only felt so seamless because Bucky made it that way. He didn’t just manage your calendar and fetch you coffee like any other PA, he lived and breathed you. He went everywhere with you, crashing in your spare room at least three nights a week because you had both worked yourselves to exhaustion. He never missed anything. He had a solution for every problem, nothing was too big for him to tackle and given the chance, you two could absolutely take over the world one day. You confided in him, and he in you, getting to know every tiny detail of his life in the past few years, right down to that fact that neither of you had seen your family or been on a date in months. Hell, he’d went as far as buying you a packet of batteries one Monday after a particularly long and stressful court hearing.

“Here, got you these.” He had smiled mischievously as he handed them over to you, chuckling a little at your confused expression. “For your vibrator. Looks like it’s gonna be a long week.” You took them gratefully, joking with him that you really would need them, tucking them into your handbag and damn were they appreciated. The following morning he had asked how you had got on and you could only laugh. You didn’t tell him how thoughts of him had come into your head right as you had gotten close. Similarly, you didn’t tell him how painfully intense your orgasm had been when you imagined him on the bed with you, watching you come apart against the plastic toy. You could just picture his hungry gaze, watching how your body gushed as you released, nipples pebbled from arousal and your lips parted, a single whimper of his name escaping you as you rode out your high.

No, that was a little secret you would keep to yourself. He didn’t need to know your dirtiest fantasies. He was an employee. An employee that often arrived at your bedroom door shirtless and smirking, holding a stack of freshly made pancakes on the mornings he stayed over at yours but an employee nonetheless.

—————————

The cab ride to the airport would have been silent if it hadn’t been for the gentle tapping of your thumbs and Bucky’s racing over your respective phone screens. You had at least two dozen emails left to reply to and your eyelids were beginning to get heavy, the body heat radiating from Bucky in the cab’s back seat making you drowsy. You took a second, squeezing your eyes shut to force away the tiredness before going back to typing relentlessly.

The trip to the airport was short, Bucky had competed the preflight checkin so you essentially stepped straight onto the plane, taking a seat by the window, with Bucky taking the one opposite you. Takeoff was smooth as always, your phones picked back up as soon as it was safe to do so. But with the glowing screen came a fresh wave of drowsiness, your eyelids threatening to close of their own accord.

“Shit, Buck did you pack my -“

“Glasses? Left side of your bag, under the tissues.” Bucky finished your sentence for you, not looking up from his phone.

“And my -“

“Eye drops? In your makeup bag.” There it was again. What surprised you most was that Bucky didn’t even need to see you to work out exactly what was wrong.

“Do you really just take care of everything?” You huffed out a little laugh, digging through your bag, finding both your glasses and eye drops exactly where he told you they would be.

“Everything but you.” He chuckled, finally setting his phone down.

“What do you mean ‘everything but me’? All you ever do is take care of me. You organise my shopping and dry cleaning for god’s sake.” The whole notion of Bucky doing anything but taking care of you was just insane because you sure as hell didn’t have time to do any of those things for yourself. That’s what you hired him for after all.

“I didn’t mean like that. I meant like really take care of you. You’re so damn up tight.” You knew by the little chuckle that accompanied his words that he meant it affectionately but it still made you slightly defensive.

“I’m not up tight.” You protested. Normally you would’ve let harmless comments like that slide but the combination of your shitty day and the fact you were so sleepy made it impossible to not seek out conflict. This was the life you were used to after all. A life of treating almost everyone you came across adversarially. It was second nature to you at this point, inside and outside the courtroom.

“Come on, you seem to forget I am your calendar. You think I don’t know you haven’t gotten any in months? You should get laid, that’s all I’m sayin’. Wouldn’t kill you to have an orgasm every once in a while.” The words roll off his tongue like it’s nothing and truth be told, if you were in better form, this would have been a perfectly normal conversation between the two of you. Neither of you were particularly shy when it came to talking about your hookups.

You hated how right he was. You hated that you hadn’t been touched in months and Bucky knew that. You hated that most days, you were too exhausted to bother tending to your own needs. And you hated the warmth spreading through your body at the thought of Bucky finally taking care of you.

“Don’t know Buck, an orgasm might actually kill me with my high blood pressure.” You needed this conversation to turn more light hearted and you needed it fast, before your head became so clouded with need that Bucky picked up on it.

“I mean, I handle everything else for you. Wouldn’t even mind if that became part of my remit.” You almost couldn’t believe how carefree and nonchalant this whole conversation seemed, Bucky hoping you missed how he cock twitched in his trousers. Of course you didn’t. You missed nothing.

“If what became part of your remit?” You quizzed firmly, trying not to give anything away but knowing your eyes had gone big and doe-like, entirely of their own accord. This was a dream come true.

“You. Actually taking care of you. However you need.” His stare was intense, watching you keenly to determine whether he had horrendously overstepped and was about to get fired.

“Why would you even want to?” Your voice carried every single ounce of confusion you were feeling, staring Bucky down with an intensity that mirrored his own in that moment.

“You’re far too smart to act dumb.” He replied softly, knowing it was all or nothing now. If he was getting fired, he might as well be honest. His head tilted downwards, drawing your attention to the bulge growing in his suit trousers. Years worth of need and longing bubbling over all at once.

“If you want this, tell me. If not, that’s fine. But it doesn’t need to be anything romantic. Can be just sex. Whatever you want.” He was doing his very best to stay calm, his brain finally catching up with his mouth and considering that he was now in way too deep to just apologise and about to get his ass handed to him at thousands of feet in the air by one of the best legal minds in the world.

You’d never wanted anything more in your life. It was almost like Bucky was dangling himself in front of you. A piece of meat before a lion that could be snatched away at any second. You weren’t going to give him the chance, professionalism be damned. You were out of your seat and onto his lap in a flash, your pencil skirt hiked up to allow you to bracket his legs in your own.

“Are you sure about this?�� Your quizzed softly, giving him one last chance to back out before you lost all self control.

“Do I feel like I’m not sure?” His voice was almost a choked whisper, his hands landing on your hips to press you down against his stiff cock.

You’d never seen him like this before. Horny and needy and losing himself in the feeling of you on top of him after years of fantasies. He had tried to curb the fantasies but his body didn’t allow him to. You were all he could think of on those lonely nights, a hand wrapped around his cock, groans and whimpers escaping until he came over his hand, a cry of your name pulled from his lips. He thought you would never know. And now here he was, the woman of his dreams perched in his lap, asking to be taken care of. Even the filthiest parts of his brain couldn’t have come up with this.

He could never have dreamt how you moved forward so tentatively, your lips hardly even touching his. He was used to seeing you confident, in control, the calmest person under pressure and yet here you were, unsure of yourself for the first time, he imagined, in your life. You both kept your eyes open for a little while, your lips sliding together gently, getting a feel for one another, up until your teeth sank into the plush skin of his bottom lip and an actual groan left him, his eyelids fluttering shut. The sound could’ve made you quiver with need. It was so alarmingly sexy, knowing your huge, sexy PA could be taken apart with the smallest touches. Suddenly, this seemed to be as much, if not more, for Bucky’s benefit than your own.

“Thought this was for me, hm?” Somehow your condescending court voice was pushing him over the edge. You felt one of his hands come up, tangling in your hair while the other wrapped around your waist, pulling your core flush with his clothed cock. He kissed you with a burning intensity that made your head swim and your pussy throb, loving how he was taking control but still hurtling further into a breathless, needy state.

“You’ve no idea how long I’ve thought about this. Didn’t think we’d be joining the mile high club.” He huffed out a little light laugh, using his grip on your waist to help you roll your hips over his growing erection.

“Couldn’t have been thinking about this for as long as I have.” You smiled softly, letting out a little gasp as his cock nudged you just right through your panties that you were sure had been soaked through already. His eyes went wide at your admission, his dick twitching deliciously underneath you.

“Fuck, that’s the hottest thing I’ve ever heard.” He whispered, making you laugh at how eager he was.

“I won’t be able to wait until we’re off this plane Bucky. You gonna fuck me right here?” You teased him softly, your faces so close, your tiny hands running down his pristine shirt, toying with the buttons. When you began to graze his chest gently with your nails, it was like a switch flipped inside Bucky. He thrust up against you with a growl loving the yelp you let out, one hand now squeezing your ass, the other massaging your breasts through your blouse.

“Gonna fuck all the stress out of you. Gonna have you leavin’ this plane leakin’ and cockdrunk.” Somehow you didn’t even doubt his words and you had to admit, it did sound quite appealing to give up the control for a while, just letting Bucky take over.

“Gimme all you’ve got Barnes. Gotta make it worth my while or this is gonna be the last time you get the chance.” You couldn’t help but tease him before instantly realising that might have been a mistake, his lips burning hot as they worked against your own, needy, insistent and as always, eager to please.

His mouth was relentless to the point that you found yourself practically dry humping his cock, your hands laced in his hair while his untucked your blouse from your skirt, greedily holding onto any skin he could reach. He tasted of peppermint and coffee, smelt like the expensive aftershave you were so fond of and felt like a man who’s only purpose in life was to make you cum until it hurt.

“Need you. ‘Nside me. Now.” You managed somehow to pant the words out between the fervent slide of his lips over yours, his tongue dipping in to taste you, never wanting this to end.

The feeling of your much smaller hands landing on his belt buckle made him look down but he could’ve cum then and there at the sight that met him. The front of his suit pants were slick with your mess, proof that he wasn’t just dreaming and you really were needing this just as badly as he was.

“You’re so fuckin’ ready for it aren’t you? Look at the mess you’ve made. Why didn’t we do this years ago?” He was groaning, shifting in his seat to help you get his trousers and boxers down. You couldn’t help how you gasped a little at the sheer size of him, his cock thick and long, the head slick with precum, proud veins running up his shaft. He looked Godly. Two firm pumps was all it took to have his head thrown back against the plush leather seat, cursing and bucking against your hand, aching for more.

“I’m sorry Buck, I can’t wait any longer.” You panted, his lips attached to your neck now, kissing, licking and sucking all his frustration into your skin. If there was a time for foreplay, that wasn’t it. Neither of you had the patience right now.

“Thank God, needa feel this pretty pussy.” He all but whispered as you lined him up at your soaking entrance.

“Shit Bucky, you got a condom?” You asked anxiously, stilling yourself at the last second.

“My bag, zip compartment at the front.” He replied quietly and sure enough, that’s exactly where you found a packet. Tearing the wrapper off, you slid it down his length earning another groan from the huge man who was practically shaking beneath you.

“You think of everything.” You giggled, finally beginning to slowly sink yourself down onto him. Your laugh quickly turned into a breathy moan, your breath mingling with Bucky’s and you noticed how he made a very similar noise. You pressed yourself down slowly, your body having to adjust to the stretch.

“So tight, fuck. Shit, never felt a tighter pussy in my life.” He whispered when you were finally seated on top of him. He pulled your skirt out of the way to appreciate just how connected your bodies were in that moment. His cock just seemed to fit perfectly, so snug you could’ve cried as you began to slowly work your hips against his.

“Oh my god Bucky you’re huge.” You should’ve been embarrassed by how high and needy your whine came out but right then and there, you didn’t care.

“It’s all yours sweetheart. Gonna fuck you so good you never need another cock again. Gonna ruin anyone else for you - fuck.” Under normal circumstances you would’ve chastised him for being so overconfident but feeling how his cock nudged your sweet spot perfectly, you thought he might actually be right.

“Gotta fuck you angel, can’t just sit here anymore, ‘s driving me crazy.” He just couldn’t keep himself still any longer, lust burning behind his eyes in a way you had never seen in him before. You lifted yourself up slowly, feeling his length slipping from you, your walls fighting to pull him deeper until you sank back down, taking the whole length at once. The strangled cry that left Bucky was incredible. You repeated your gentle rise and fall, setting a decent pace. Every sharp fall of your hips tore a needy gasp from both of you, the sweetest spot inside you throbbing from the almost constant onslaught. It was everything you craved. Bucky was grasping at every curve of your body, lost in the feeling of your soft skin and the grip of your silky walls and the smell of your shampoo as you rode him, building speed as your pleasure built in your lower belly. The wet sounds escaping where your bodies were joined was nothing short of obscene, only fuelling Bucky to meet each of your thrusts with his own.

“Oh my god, I -oh oh- I can’t, can’t take it Bucky please.” You groaned, manicured fingernails digging into his chest.

“I got you honey. ‘s okay. Gonna take such good care of you when we get to the hotel. Just want you to cum once for me now, okay? Take the edge off. You feel so good wrapped round me. You know what else I can feel? Your pretty pussy is leakin’. Feel you drippin’ down over my balls. Never felt anything so hot in my ‘ntire life.” His fingers fell to your clit, rubbing neatly as if he had been trained to do nothing else. You were on cloud nine, your high so close but not quite there yet.

“Bucky, gonna cum. Oh fuck!” You whined, your orgasm hitting you like a train. You came with a loud cry, eyes squeezed shut, rocking against him more than fucking so his cock stayed buried inside you.

“Shit, how did you get even fuckin’ tighter. ‘M so close.” He whispered against your neck, broken and needy. Your high had all but subsided, aftershocks still pleasantly coursing through you as you went back to letting your hips rise and fall so Bucky could finish. It only took four more well timed thrusts before he was cumming with a shout, pulling you flush against him as his balls emptied into the condom.

You were both spent and sweaty but more satisfied than you could remember being in months, your chest pressed to his as you both came down, craving a little extra affection. Bucky held you for a good few minutes until you felt his cock softening, knowing he really should get cleaned up. You let him slip from you, pulling your skirt down to take your original seat across from him again.

“Gimme a second.” He whispered, kissing your forehead before making his way to the little bathroom, returning a few minutes later looking just as put together as ever, apart from his telltale grin.

“Jesus, we should do that more often.” You smiled quietly when he returned, letting him settle in the chair beside you this time, the dividing arm rest pushed out of the way so you could cuddle as much as possible given the limited space.

“I can’t stop now honey. That pussy is addictive.” He smiled, happy to see you leaning so comfortably up against him but even happier when he heard your soft little snores.

Taglist:

@harrysthiccthighss @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123 @justatirednightowl @littlecanadianlani @babebr @sebsbrokentoe @badgirlwolfy

[diaryofabeautyfiend]

It Had to be Witches

Dean and Sam are on a hunt at Rowena’s request. When Sam is out of commission, Dean has to work with you.

Warnings: Unprotected p in v (wrap it before you tap it!) male oral receiving, fingering, mention’s of witchcraft, brief mentions of ritual style murders, brief mention of animal sacrifice, Dean is a sad boy.

Word count: 3567

All written and proofread (poorly) by me. All mistakes are my own. Please don’t copy or repost my work. Likes are great and I’ll love you forever if you repost and comment. Thanks for reading.

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Sam and Dr. Philips examined each of the women’s bodies. Carved into their limbs were runes consistent with the ones Rowena described. She said she was sending an expert who lived in the area but the boys hadn’t made contact yet.

“The other agent who was just here asked the same questions. Don’t you guys talk to each other?” Dr. Philips covered the bodies. Some of the women he knew personally.

“Different departments. You said he was just here? How long ago?”

“She. Her name is Diana Luna. She’s down at the evidence locker. All the women had the same necklace. She went to check it out.”

Sam thanked the doctor and set off to find you. First he called Dean. “Looks like Rowena’s story checks out. Her expert was just here. The bodies were marked with runes and all of their tongues cut out. And, get this, they all had the same necklace. Maybe a coven?”

“Of course. Of course it’s witches, Sam. Look, don’t go far. I’m on my way.” Sam was sitting on a bus bench reading coroner's reports when you approached him. Due to the nature of the case, Rowena insisted the elder Winchester carry out the task at hand. “Use Sam as bait.” she instructed.

“Agent Cornell? I’m agent Luna from the Lansing office.” You extended your hand. “Director Macleod sent me.”

“Yeah, I bet she did. Bring me up to speed.”

“Sure. I’ve got what you’re looking for right here.” You blew a very potent powder in his face knocking him out. You put the lankier Winchester into your truck and sped back to your house. Getting his dead weight up the stairs was a task but you did it. “Sweet dreams, Sam.”

Dean searched the entire town square for Sam with no luck. He tried his phone again and it was going directly to voicemail. Sam could hold his own against any witch but Dean was still worried. As he unlocked the door to the Impala, he heard you call his name over his shoulder and turned his head to see who was speaking. You blew the dream dust into his face rendering him unconscious.

He was heavier than he looked. You shoved him into the back seat and pried the keys from his hand. Baby growled angrily when she started but you had her purring for you in no time. You drove him back to your house and dragged him inside where you intended to tie him up. Rowena coached you on all their tricks. You took off his jacket, rolled up his sleeves and divested him if anything sharp. With his wrists and ankles bound in a pretty decent slip knot you splashed his face with water to wake him.

“Morning, handsome.” he smirked as you wiped his face.

“Big mistake, sweetheart. I’m guessing you’re the one we’re looking for.”

“Pretty and dumb. Rowena was right and you would be guessing wrong. Her name is Teresa Wilson. She came seeking asylum with our coven a few months ago. Said her whole order was obliterated. Turns out, she wasn’t exactly who she said she was.”

His face split into a cocky grin, “They never are. What do you want with me?”

“You need to help me find her. Rowena gave me a locator spell. When I cast the spell, I’ll need your fancy bullets. Problem is…”

He laughed heartily, “Problem is you can’t touch ‘em, am I right, sweetheart?”

“You would be correct.”

“And what’s in it for me?”

You took a step back just out of his reach just in case, “If you help me I’ll let your brother live.”

He strained against the ropes veins bulging in his forearms. “If you touch one hair on his head I’ll rip you apart myself. You hear me, witch?”

Your nails dug sharp into the meat of his cheeks so he would look at you. “Relax, baby. Your brother is safe. He’s asleep upstairs dreaming of puppies and rainbows as we speak. But if you don’t help me, he’ll never wake up. And, Dean, when I kill someone, it sticks. No resurrections for Sammy this time.”

You’ve never seen a human man snarl before. It was pretty cute. Rowena warned you not to be mesmerized by his sweet face and his Disney Princess eyes but you couldn’t help it. The man looked like he would, in fact, rip you apart. And, Hecate help you, you wished he would. You traced a finger along his sharp stubble covered jaw. His eyes turned up to look into yours, throwing daggers at you. “Anyone ever tell you how cute you are when you’re angry?”

“All the time. Get to the spell so I can take my brother out of here.” he growled.

“It’s not time. If I untie you, are you gonna be a good boy or do I have to hit you with my knock out dust again?” You couldn’t take your eyes off of his perfect lips smiling at you.

“Sure, mommy, I’ll be a real good boy.”

You knelt in front of him and parted his knees slightly to undo the first knot. “Such a smart ass.” He growled low in his throat when you peered at him through your lashes. His dick grew painfully hard against his jeans as you slid your hand up his legs to maintain balance. Of course you noticed though he tried to squeeze his thighs together to hide his arousal. “Do you like me like this, Dean?”

Of course he did. You were just his type. A little bratty but you had a good heart. Rowena told them about you. The little warrior for the Grand Council. They constantly sent you to do their dirty work and you did so without question like a good soldier. No wonder Rowena paired the two of you. You were the female version of him. “Like what?” His voice was low and dripping with need.

“On my knees for you. Looks like you do.” You winked at him but he looked away embarrassed.

It had been a long time since he felt a woman wrapped hot around him. Everything in him wanted to follow your siren song and happily crash. He couldn’t do it. This story always ended bloody. “You couldn’t handle it, sweetheart.” He peered down at the bulge in his pants. So did you. Your core heated at the thought.

“Is that a dare or a double dare?.” He spread his legs and licked his lips inviting you to take what you wanted. You shook it off and focused on the task at hand. “Well in any case, I made you dinner. Pot roast, potatoes, peas and carrots. Eat if you want.”

It did smell amazing. His stomach growled remembering that all he had was coffee this morning. The living room and kitchen were well lit and warm. He felt at peace in this place. More so than the bunker where it could sometimes feel clinical and cold. “You got a pretty nice place here. You all alone?”

A sly smile played on your lips, “Just me.” You sat the plate down in front of him with a cold beer and a bottle opener. The oven timer dinged and, when you opened the door, the aroma of cinnamon and spice wafted through the air.

“That pie?” He sounded choked up.

“Apple. I have an orchard in the back. Rowena filled me in on how to keep you happy.” You sit it on the windowsill to cool while you ate. “I can’t have you bashing me over the head and running off before we kill this bitch.”

He shoveled a fork full of potatoes and gravy into his mouth humming in appreciation. “Why me? You had Sam here. He’s much better at this witch stuff than I am. Why drag me out here?”

“You’re more reliable when making difficult decisions. You’re what I need. Another beer?” He nodded breathing in the soft floral scent that wafted off of your skin as you moved.

You didn’t offer any further information and Dean thought that was probably for the best. If he got in his head about the situation he would lose his nerve and that can’t happen. That’s how people die. As of late, Sam has had a lot on his mind. Dean would have to shoulder this burden. At least Sammy was getting some rest.

The two of you shared a comfortable silence only marred by silverware hitting ceramic. “Well that was delicious. Thank you….umm…I don’t think I caught your name.”

“I didn’t give it to you. I’m Y/N. But I wouldn’t mind if you kept calling me sweetheart. Pie?”

Dean's heart beat hard in his chest at the thought of calling you sweetheart “Maybe a little. So when do we do this thing?”

“Eat your pie then meet me outside. I have to prepare.” You slipped out the back door down a dimly lit path to your cauldron. You threw in the mandrake and tobacco. Last was the chicken that you had to slaughter. You grabbed a hen from her coop and stabbed her with your athame. It made a terrible sound which sent Dean flying through the back door ready to fight.

“What the hell was that?”

“Chicken.” You allowed the rest of its blood to drain and discarded the carcass. “periisti. lates. Ego te quaero. I vestrum adprehendet vos.” You chanted over and over until a glowing beacon appeared. “We have to follow it.” The orb circled the two of you then floated towards the Impala. You retrieved his keys from your pocket and started off for the car.

“Whoa whoa whoa. What are you doing?”

“Following the orb.” He grabbed your arm as you started to slide into the driver’s seat.

“No one drives my baby but me. You sit shotgun.” He impatiently waited for you to scoot over. When you reached for the radio he slapped your hand away. “Are you serious?!”

“What? There were other decades besides the 70’s.” He bit his lip and flared his nostrils letting out an unsettling growl. “Driver picks the music.”

“You are a child. Just drive. The spell won’t last forever” you huffed.

“So, just you huh? No boyfriend? Girlfriend?” You didn’t answer keeping your eyes trained on the orb. “Yeah me neither. Maybe later we can grab a drink.”

“My god. Can you keep it in your pants until we’re done? It took a left!”

He sped up taking off after it, “I see it. So that’s not a no.” That was all the invitation he needed. The truth was you would have given it up the moment those green eyes stared into your soul.

“It’s not a no. Let’s focus.”

Baby ate up miles of dirt road before reaching the highway. A couple of miles ahead the orb sped for an exit into town. You were led to the motel where the boys were staying. The door to their room was wide open and there Teresa stood bathed in the light of the orb. You bid it a job well done and sent it on its way.

Teresa, caught off guard, quickly muttered a spell pinning Dean to the wall, sending the gun skittering away. You faced each other down while Dean struggled. “She’s a kid!” he groaned in pain.

“I’m nineteen thank you. You don’t have to do this Y/N. Come on. We’re sisters. We share the same DNA. Let’s take them on together.” Tears welled in your eyes. You may have been blood but you weren’t sisters. She grew up far out of the Grand Council’s reach while you were their trained lap dog.

“Only half little sister. You’re hopped up on enough stolen magic to power the entire city. The Grand Council sent me to take you down. Adiuro te in nomine Hecate. Adiuro te in nomine Dianae. Tuae vires cum luna decrescant.” you chanted. She fought back but the binding spell was powerful. She didn’t have enough magic to hold Dean and fight you so she let him go. When he regained composure, he dove for the gun.

Without warning, Teresa gained the upper hand. She held out her arm and used all of her might to pull you towards her. Blood stained tears fell from your eyes as you struggled to breath. With every last ounce of strength you had you doubled down on the binding spell long enough to hold her so that Dean could put her down. The blast of the shot filled the small motel room filling your ears with a high pitched whining. You collapsed onto the floor where Dean scooped you into his arms.

“Hey, Y/N. Wake up. Stay with me. Shit.” He carried you to the car and gingerly set you down next to him. The drive back to your house felt long. When he got you inside he placed you on the couch and called Rowena.

“Is it done then?” she asked in her thick Scottish brogue.

“Yeah but your girl’s unconscious. She’s breathing but she used a lot of magic. A lot. I don’t think you’ll be calling on her anytime soon.”

“Keep her warm, Dean. I’ll be there soon.” The line went dead. He sat on the floor in front of you and brushed your hair from your eyes.

“Sweetheart, you need to wake up. We were supposed to grab that drink, remember?” He pressed his lips to your temple lingering there for a moment when he heard Rowena’s laugh trill behind him.

“I should add matchmaker to my long list of talents. Out of the way, Dean. I’ll get your girl fixed right up.” She patted his hand and pushed him aside.

His face flushes hot burning all the way to his ears. ”She’s not my girl.”

“Of course. Now, what seems to be the trouble, dear?” She placed her hands on your head. Her eyes glowed as she spoke over you. Your lashes began to flutter and you woke up. “There she is. Good as new.” You and Dean exchanged a look. “That appears to be my cue to go check on Samuel.”

“Thank you, Rowena.” your voice was hoarse barely above a whisper.

“Not at all, dear.”

Dean pulled you into his lap rocking you gently, “You scared the hell out of me, sweetheart.”

“I had to stop her. She hurt too many people.” You felt guilty for ending her but even guiltier for letting her go as far as she did. Guiltier still for not pushing harder to be in her life. “It was my fault.”

“Hey, no it wasn’t. What? You think you should have been a better big sister? You didn’t lead her down this path, Y/N.” You rested your head on his shoulder “All these years and all the stupid fucked up shit Sam and I did, I blamed myself. I took on that burden. Alone. It’s a lonely awful place to be. I’m begging don’t do that to yourself.” He held your face in his hands forcing you to look at him. He wanted to kiss you. You would have let him if he leaned in. Instead he brought you back down to his chest just to hold you. He saw so much of himself in you. You were headstrong and self righteous but your intentions were altruistic.

You melted into his arms so lost in him that you didn’t hear Sam and Rowena slip out. Dean offered his brother only a small nod to let him know you were ok. He had several texts from Eileen anyway. Happy to see his brother didn’t have to spend another night alone, he went back to the bunker.

You sat in silence for a while when you started yawning. “Shit. What time is it?”

“After midnight. I should get outta here.” You untangled yourself from his grasp but didn’t stand. His hands stayed respectfully at the small of your back. You locked eyes with him. Your core tingled as he brushed errant hair from your forehead.

“Or you could stay. We haven’t had our drink yet. Though, you don’t need to get me drunk, handsome.” You kissed his jaw and down his neck working your way to his collarbone. A soft moan escaped his lips when you nipped at his neck. “I mean you enjoyed me on my knees and all.”

“As pretty as you looked,” his voice was low and gravelly, “And, I mean you looked gorgeous. We really shouldn’t.”

You genuinely pouted your lips backing off of your ministrations, “Why not? I want to. And you clearly want to. You’re a fucking legend, Dean. Show me just how legendary you are.”

He arched a brow at you and smirked in the way that only Dean Winchester does. “Flattery will get you everywhere, sweetheart.” Finally his lips were on yours. The force of his kiss took your breath away. It wasn’t predatory or greedy. It was slow and sensuous bordering on hunger. His whole body was hungry for you. Dean Winchester was hungry constantly looking for something to fill the hole inside him. For the moment, that was you. He felt like he was floating and was suddenly very warm. If he stopped kissing you he knew he would just stop breathing. He couldn’t bare the thought.

“What are you doing to me?” His chest heaved. “I feel like I’m on fire.” Surely this must be a spell or enchantment. He pulled you back in for more but this time his hands strayed from your back. They traveled to your hips then under the hem of your shirt to feel your flesh warm against him. He had to feel you. To be inside of you. Deft fingers unbuttoned your jeans. Without breaking the kiss he stroked your clothed core working up a rhythm that flooded you with arousal.

“Touch me, Dean. Please” you cried. Pushing your panties aside his fingers explored your dripping pussy. His pace is maddening. Your hips snapped fucking back hard. “Fuck, Dean. So good. I need your cock. Want you to split ne open.”

“You’ve got a filthy mouth, Princess. Come for me and I’ll give you what you want.” And so you gushed around him moaning like a witch on fire. When your heart slowed to a normal rhythm you stripped naked. Before he could get undressed he took a moment to kiss and touch every inch of you. If this was only for tonight he wanted to savor you. “God you’re beautiful.”

“So are you.” You pulled him up and undressed him, never once breaking eye contact. His cock was red and weeping just aching to be touched.

On your knees in front of him you took the whole burning thing in your mouth. To Dean, you were the most stunning creature to exist. You swirled your tongue around the head while you hollowed your cheeks sucking him in deeper still.

“You’re doing so well, sweetheart. Fuck that feels good.” His hands grasped the back of your head keeping you steady while he fucked your face. It started feeling too good like he would blow his load in your mouth. He had to feel your sweet cunt. “Let me feel you, baby. Fuck I need you.” You pulled off with a pop and climed into his lap. Both of you whimpered when you sank onto his length. The stretch was exquisite. Your pussy held him so tight. You ground your clit over his pubic bone while he fucked into you with a brutal pace. “You feel so good. M’not gonna last. Come for me, baby. I need it.” Your twat fluttered around him, milking him for all he was worth. You kissed once more fighting to hang on to the last tendrils of tenderness and warmth that you could.

“Stay. Please. Just for tonight” you whispered.

He tightened his grip on you. “Of course, sweetheart. All night.”

He hated to leave you but the sun rose like a beacon calling him away. If he didn’t leave then, he wouldn’t have ever left. Last time he stuck around and fell in love, he had to learn the hard way that he could never have this. Maybe he would call you the next time he swung through town. Maybe you’d spit in his face for bailing. He brushed the hair off your forehead and kissed your temple. “Bye, sweetheart.”

You woke when you heard the Impala roaring to life in your driveway. He left a square of paper with a phone number scrawled in pencil “I’ll always answer. -DW” You put on your robe, went down to your cauldron and threw it in with a few bundles of sage and some witch hazel to sever any feelings. On the next full moon, you’d do a cord cutting to make sure it sticks.

“See you around, handsome.” In his eleven hour drive back to the bunker, any feelings that you have would slowly fade. The two of you would go back to being too afraid to feel and far too afraid to fall in love. Dean wouldn’t hear from you again. He wouldn’t really remember where you lived. But, every time he drove through Michigan, he’d feel a twinge in his chest. And, no matter how many rituals you did, you’d feel him too.

[selsprompts]

Was it worth it, Steve?

Insight; This is just a Drabble to be honest. I saw an edit of this scene and it gave me an idea, a very sad idea.

Warnings?: angst, (possible) cursing, mentions of infertility & death. (Also me using google translate because I don’t know German #pain)

Characters: Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanoff, Bucky Barnes & Sam Wilson.

This is about Steve going back in time for Peggy, I do not agree with his decision. Does this mean that Steve doesn’t deserve happiness? No, of course he does. But, his ending was just so bad IMO.

It’s my opinion so don’t tear me down, Steve went back in time and he shouldn’t have. Sorry not sorry.

+ because of a recent reply I have to say that I will also be blocking people who send harmful messages/replies. It’s okay to say you disagree with me, I respect that, but please don’t tell me to “die” or insult me, it reflects on your character. Have a good day.

-

He danced.

He danced with the woman he loved.

That was good, right? Having happiness and being in a good place, that was good, right?

-

“Natalia Alianovna Romanova”

I stepped out of the line of girls and I knew what was happening, what was going to happen.

“Yes, madam” I held my head high trying to ignore the thoughts of how my future would never be fully happy.

“It’s time, let’s go” she grabbed my arm and led me out of the room, to the lab of course.

The graduation ceremony.

I was terrified. I could never have a family now, who would want me? Who wants a woman that can’t conceive?

We walked through the doors and madam left me alone while she spoke to the doctor.

I tried to fail my training, I didn’t want this, but I don’t have a choice anymore.

I remember shooting that man with a bag over his head, I hesitated but did it anyways. I have so much blood on my hands already and I'm so young.

I’ve been forced to spar with people I claimed as family to death in order to please my masters. The ones I claimed as sisters, their blood is on my hands.

“Come now, change and lay on the table” she handed me something to change into and I went behind the curtain.

I changed painfully slowly to try and drag the process, I was scared.

After this was over I’d have to go to ballet practice and act like nothing happened, like my life didn’t change for the rest of my life

“Natalia!” Madam called my name and I hurried quickly fearing the consequences.

I walked out and laid on the table, it was cold and hard, I wasn’t ready for this, who could be?

“What if I fail?” I said adjusting my position looking around the room.

“You never fail, you will earn your place in this world” Madam said before walking off.

I saw the doctor grabbing supplies and syringes. I muttered something under my breathe before it began.

“I have no place in the world” I tear slipped down my cheek as I shut my eyes.

-

He bought a house, he married her, they have kids.

The perfect white picket fence like Tony told him about.

This is what he wanted after all that war and those battles, he finally got what he wanted, right?

-

I don’t remember anything anymore. Every time I feel like I’ve figured out what’s happened to me it comes back to a blur.

“Wintersoldat” I turned my body looking at my master, I nodded.

“Töte ihn” he said throwing the man on the floor at my feet.

Kill him he said, this is what I do, this is my mission.

I did it. Shot him 3 times. I felt no remorse, it was strange.

I often contemplate my own thoughts, only when they don’t take me to the lab. After a period of time my mind wonders, faint memories come in.

I’ve become better at hiding it, but not perfect.

They know, they know everything .

We walked out of the room and left the countless bodies I murdered on the floor, like it wasn’t a crime.

He grabbed my arm stopping me in my tracks.

“Zurück zum Basis-Wintersoldaten”

We have to go back to the base. He knows.

He knows my memories are coming back, it’s going to happen again. My mind will be gone again.

“Ja, mein Herr” I complied and followed him.

I felt hopeless, I was so close to finding out what my purpose was. Not anymore.

I sat in the chair knowing what was going to happen, my chest heaving.

They put my mouth guard in. I thought about what I was before this. If I had any family, friends.

Friend. That sounded familiar. Steve.

My friend Steve, I remember Steve.

They pushed me back into the chair strapping my arms in.

“Steve used to put news papers in his shoes”

I mumbled out loud, they watched me confused.

“Los, wische sein Gedächtnis ab, worauf wartest du?”

The doctor was demanded to wipe my memory at once, again.

I heard the machine come down.

This is my life now, I hope one day to change.

I hope to find peace and happiness. I hope I’m excused for doing wrong I don’t have control over.

I hope I’m loved and alive. I hope I’m okay.

I thought one last thing before I felt my brain ache like before.

Will I ever truly be okay?

-

He replayed the record, he always does.

He walked back over to his wife, Peggy.

He ignores his thoughts about what he’s letting happen, what’s going to happen.

I deserve this he thought. Peggy, my kids, my life. This is what I deserve, right?

-

I watched him die. In front of my eyes.

“RILEY” I screamed through my comms.

I’m so stupid, how could I let this happen? Why wasn’t it me, it should’ve been me.

Testing out the Falcon for the first time shouldn’t have gone this way, never.

“EXO-7 Falcon. Beautiful ain’t she?”

I traced my fingers along the wings.

“Absolutely”

“You and Riley will be testing it out for the first time during the mission”

I was excited, who wouldn’t be? It’s crazy.

Our para-rescue unit was given the job of apprehending Khalid Khandil.

I felt like time froze

“no- Riley, no, no, no”

My wing-man. Gone.

This was a standard PJ rescue op. Nothing we hadn't done a thousand times before.

Until an RPG knocked Riley's dumb ass out of the sky. Nothing I could do. It's like I was up there just to watch.

I remember that day, everyday. It never leaves my mind. I let him down.

I watched them lower the casket into the ground feeling my body tense up.

“It’s not your fault, Wilson” another person on our team put their hand on my shoulder before patting my back and leaving.

But it was. Maybe if I said don’t go there, follow me, my lead, it would’ve been okay.

I don’t trust myself much anymore, I’m scared.

But I have to move on and do better, be a better man than before.

I’ll do it for Riley, for him.

I was the last person left at the cemetery. I could hear his family crying while walking away. I couldn’t face them, not a chance.

“I’ll see you around buddy” I said walking off with my hands in my pockets.

I’ll save as many people as I can, it’s my duty.

-

They danced until she mentioned dinner. He let her go but still the record played.

It’s Been A Long Long Time by Kitty Kallen, his favourite song.

He walked outside to his porch looking at the sky, it was nice. Enjoying the peace and quiet while his best friends were doing the complete opposite.

While the world turned upside down he turned his back for a woman he left and said goodbye to a long time ago, even carried her casket.

He realized she was married to another man, had kids. She had a different life.

But what does that matter, right?

They both moved on but that wasn’t enough.

This begs the question, was it worth it, Steve?

Welp. Here it is.

This was hard to right if I’m being honest.

I love Steve a lot, he’s one of if not my favourite character(s). But this is my honest take on the ending, needed to be said!

I hope no one else has done this idea. Let me know what you think! xx - Selena

[giorno-plays-piano]

Blood in the water Part 2

Pairing: merman!Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: yandere, obsession, kidnapping, non-consensual drug use, brief mention of breeding, minor depiction of violence.

Words: 3496.

Part 1

___________________

He started singing again, and you turned on Slipknot to the full volume, carefully slipping on your noise-canceling headphones you ordered not so long ago. They were really a blessing, but even with them and all the noise surrounding you Steve’s voice still rang inside your head. 

He had a beautiful voice, the one people would call heavenly, but his intentions were far from angelic: the first night you heard Steve singing to you, you had almost went to the beach where he was waiting his prey, charmed by his divine voice. Forgetting about the danger, you floated like a cloud to him, only half-awake and clearly unaware of your actions. The only thing that saved you that night was a sharp rock you stepped on, cutting your foot, blood coloring the cold ground as you broke free from Steve’s charms. When you ran home, covering your ears and singing loudly to yourself to silence his voice, the merman let out an unnatural, frightening growl behind your back.

Then Steve started doing it every night, serenading you by moonlight. It could be romantic if only the merman didn’t try drowning you in the sea, determined to make you “his mate”. Worse, with each passing day the mark he left on your neck was becoming more and more painful and itchy, and sometimes you were waking up with deep scratches left by your own nails. 

The villagers couldn’t do much about it, despite being deeply ashamed of their inability to tell you about the merfolk - you realized they had been under some curse as every time they tried talking to you about Steve they were simply losing their voices. Of course, it all made sense now. 

They helped you taking care of the wound, but from all the words they couldn’t say you understood you wouldn’t get rid of the mark easily. Thankfully, it stopped bleeding, but the nasty scar left by Steve’s sharp teeth had still been there. Well, you could live with it, you supposed, if only you leave this forsaken place.

When you got on the first bus, you had fainted in the middle of the trip for no damn reason. You looked so bad with you eyes rolling back into your skull, your body shaking uncontrollably, the driver decided not to risk it and returned to the town immediately, leaving you in a hospital again. Strangely, you woke up with no pain whatsoever, fresh as a daisy. It was the curse the merman gifted you - you couldn’t be too far from him now, dragged back by the mark on your neck, and your only chance to stay alive was either staying with him or taking him with you. 

Maybe you could get rid of the curse if you killed him, you weren’t sure. As far as you knew from locals, they didn’t manage to kill even one in the last several decades. You didn’t know whether you could, too. Even if you would get a chance to stab Steve, you hardly imagined murdering him. You just weren’t the type.

So, he kept singing in his attempt to draw you to the beach again, and you kept hiding in that little cottage you rented. Oh yes, you were also worried about the rent since the month you paid for was coming to an end, but locals just smiled at you sadly, shaking their heads. This was how merfolk was attracting new people to the town.

“But my friends and family will be searching for me.” You mumbled, covering your face with your hands. “I have a job, a life out there.”

“I’m sorry, sunny, but no one will be searching for you,” the doctor said, giving you a salve for your mark - it was easing the itchiness. “You don’t know the merfolk. They'd stop at nothing to keep their mates close.”

“But why, for God’s sake?” You growled helplessly, unable to face the man and staring at your shoes instead.

“Reproduction, sunny. Mermaids aren’t as fertile anymore, and they are facing extinction.” He shrugged.

“And how is it supposed to work? Human with a merman?”

The doctor patted your shoulder apologetically, shaking his head. ‘I can’t tell you, dear. I... I physically can’t.”

You knew what he was talking about and couldn’t be angry at him. These people couldn’t do much, forced to protect their loved ones and living in constant fear of being abducted by the vile creatures living deep in the sea. Most of the time merfolk didn’t come to the town openly, and that’s why those women were so upset you lived far away, completely defenseless. But they couldn’t open up to you, revealing merfolk’s secret, and now Steve kept you on the hook.

Groaning when the sunlight crept in through the curtains, you rubbed your eyes and slowly got up, taking the headphones away and touching your ears. God, it hurt so much, but it was the only way for you to sleep at least for a few hours while Steve kept singing outside.

Oddly, you couldn’t hear the sound of the music as if someone turned it off, and you immediately went to your laptop to check. Shit, you forgot to plug it in. Thank goodness Steve stopped singing before your laptop turned off.

Sighing, you went to the bathroom, opening the tap and splashing some water into your face to wake up. It was barely six, but the sun was shining brightly, giving you no chance to go to sleep - you had always been up with the sun regardless of your circumstances. Now it was one more of your curses, considering you barely slept. 

Watching your reflection in the mirror, you chuckled sarcastically, touching your bottom eyelid - you looked like you just came back from the dead. Would Steve be willing to let you go once he realized you’re no more the sweet beautiful lady he met? What a fucking bastard.

Feeling nauseated, you rubbed your face and went to the kitchen, reheating yesterday’s coffee. You had no strength to make yourself breakfast, even the simplest one. 

Next minute you were wrapping the blanket around yourself and heading out of the house with a mug in your hand, eager to watch the sunrise. You weren’t afraid of Steve since you had never even once spotted him on the beach in the daylight. Besides, you kept a little knife in a pocket of your pants in case you needed to cut yourself and become free from his charms.

You still questioned yourself what were going to do next. Even if your parents and friends would forget you because of the curse affecting them somehow, you still remembered them. You wanted your life back. You wanted to sleep at night, unafraid of being snatched away by someone hiding in the dark. You wanted to wake up, knowing you are safe, and go to work, have one more simple day, then returning back home. You didn’t ask for much.

Well, you would have to figure out how to live in this small town all by yourself, find a new source of income and pretend like no scary mythical creature lingered behind your back. Maybe you would have to ask doctor to make you deaf. It should help with the singing.

Suddenly, you saw a huge figure rising from behind a rock not very far from you. You froze on the spot, looking at Steve walking carefully on the beach. Despite wearing something reminding you of a torn human sweater, he was naked below the waistline, and you blinked, looking at his soft cock dangling in between his legs.

Legs. Steve had a pair of strong, muscled human legs. 

For a second you forgot how to breathe, watching him coming closer to you, his movements a bit unsteady and slow. You became rooted to the ground where you stood, unable to turn away and run from the monster too human to your liking. Was it his magic again? Was it you who couldn’t keep running anymore?

Biting your lips painfully, you felt tears gathering in the corners of your eyes. Steve was wearing your sweater, albeit badly stretched out and torn in a few places - he was so much bigger than you it was a miracle he had somehow managed to put it on. You suddenly remembered how you were searching for this sweater a week or two ago, thinking you had forgot it somewhere in the cottage. How and where did Steve find it? Was he always able to walk? If so, why didn’t he take you away?

Well, maybe that’s what he was going to do now.

Finally finding some strength, you turned back to your cottage, eager to get away as far as possible from him, but then heard Steve’s angry, raspy voice, “Stay where you are!”

And you stood, moving back to face him and unable to do anything at all but watch. 

Steve looked as tired as you are: you saw the bags under his eyes, his full lips cracked, his expression exhausted as if your resistance was straining him. Wasn’t he supposed to be an invincible immortal being wandering the sea? He looked so much more human now you weren’t even sure anymore.

“You want my throat to bleed, don’t you?” He grunted in a hoarse voice, wincing when he spoke, and you realized he lost his voice after signing night after night to you. “I am doing my best for you, and you just turn on that horrible, distasteful music every night!”

You smirked - how dare was he to call Slipknot’s best songs “distasteful music”?

“This shouldn’t happen this way. You’re ruining it.” Steve continued to grumble as he kept coming closer and closer, and, oddly, you found out you weren’t as scared of him anymore as you were in that faithful night. 

“Ruining what?” You asked, sipping your still warm coffee when he approached you, wet and angry.

“The courtship!” The man exclaimed, breathing heavily - it seemed walking on his human legs was talking a toll on him. “You had to come to me, you stubborn woman! And what are you making me do? Come to you instead?”

He coughed, squeezing his eyes shut and touching his neck. It had to be really painful for him to talk.

Despite how wicked he was and how badly you wanted him to have a taste of his own medicine, you almost felt pity for your merman, handing him your mug when he stopped close to you.

“What is this? Coffee?”

“With milk. Good for your throat.” You replied, acknowledging he knew of human drinks.

Gazing at you skeptically, Steve sniffed your mug and then took it in his arms, glancing at the liquid inside. “It’s hot.”

“It’s warm. You won’t burn your tongue.” You said, taking the blanket off your shoulder and wrapping it around his hips - seriously, you felt too awkward to stand near a man dressed in just a little stretched-out sweater.

“You and you fear of nudity, humans.” Steve grunted, but sipped the coffee, nonetheless, quickly getting used to it and finishing your mug. “Oh, this one isn’t bad. I tried espresso, but it was so bitter I couldn’t have the whole cup.”

You chuckled, wrapping your arms around your own body and looking at the merman. What was he going to do now? He didn’t look vile, probably not as angry and upset as before, but who knew what he had in mind.

“So what? Are we going to stay here in the cold or you will bring me to your house?” Steve asked snappish while you snorted at him. 

“Really? I thought your plan was to drown me in the sea, not bask in the warmth of my bed.”

He grinned, pressing your mug to his impressive chest.

“Why would I drown you, silly woman? Come on, it’s cold out here in the morning. I want to stay at your place.”

He took your hand in his, and you finally moved from your spot as if Steve allowed you. Making sure the blanket was wrapped tightly around him, you went to your house, thinking of the knife in a pocket of your pants. If he was planning to attack you, you could definitely stab him through your thin sweater or cut his throat. It would require some skill, though.

Entering the little hallway, Steve looked at the ceiling and winced from the mirror hanging on the wall, looking at his reflection. Shaking his head disapprovingly, he reached out to touch his swollen bottom eyelid. 

“I thought merfolk aren’t afraid of cold.” You said, entering the kitchen and emptying the coffee pot.

“Not in this pathetic human body.” Steve entered after you, rubbing his arm in your completely wet sweater.

“Then you have to take this off and-”

“What? NO!”

He jumped away from you and stayed in the corner like a kid hiding something from his mother. You rolled your eyes.

“Although this is MY sweater, I’m not going to take it from you. I just want to dry it, alright?” You ensured, coming closer. “You’re not going to get warm if you keep it on.”

“This is my sweater.” Steve grumbled, but took it off, regardless, and handed a miserable, partly discolored piece of fabric to you to let you hang it close to the heater, watching you intently - did he really think you’d ran away with your sweater?

When you turned to face him, your blanket wasn’t secured on his hips anymore, and you stared at his naked member again, your face growing terribly hot from the sight. What was that merman thinking? Was he flaunting his.. physique in front of you? You knew of some animals doing that to attract their mates.

“For goodness sake, cover yourself.” You huffed, taking a pack of milk from the fridge. “You don’t want this thing to freeze in the open, do you?”

“Wait, it can freeze if I don’t cover it?” His eyes shot open. “You mean I won’t be able to have children anymore?”

“Yes, this is exactly what I mean.” Oh damn, it was terribly hard not to laugh as you watched Steve looking at you in horror and hurriedly wrapping the blanket around himself as much as he could. It was hilarious. 

Putting two cups of milk into the microwave, you hit the button and pulled out some butter from the fridge to put into the cup once milk would be ready. You certainly didn’t need this hissing little mermaid who lost his voice because he sang too many serenades to you.

“So, what about the courtship?” You asked, stirring melted butter in Steve’s cup as he waited for you, sitting on a chair near the table. “How do you even imagine making babies with me?”

“You don’t know?” He looked at you innocently. “Oh, don’t worry, I’m a pro at that. I’m sure you will enjoy the process.”

“For God’s sake, Steve.” You groaned, placing a cup in front of him and taking yours. “Don’t play stupid here. I can’t live underwater. I can’t even fucking swim!”

“I’m not asking you to.” He shrugged and took his milk, ensuring it wasn’t burning hot before making a sip. “Though you won’t die underwater now. Believe it or not, you can actually breathe there because of my mark.”

You touched the scar, rubbing it with your fingers furiously and narrowing your eyes at the merman who, apparently, seemed very happy to see his mark on your skin. Once he reminded you of this thing, you were ready to snap at him.

“Do you even know how much this thing hurt?” You asked, furrowing your brows.

“This is because you refused to come to me,” he cocked his head to the side, watching you growing angry. “I only need to kiss it to make you feel better. Don’t look at me like that! It’s true, let me show you.”

You stepped backwards immediately as he advanced upon you, caging you with his large body, pressing you to the kitchen counter, his skin cold. Pushing your hands against Steve, you tried to keep him away, but he was so much stronger than you that you almost ended up with your face buried in his chest.

“What the-”

He quickly lowered his head down and sniffed you, bringing his face to your neck. The next moment Steve was touching your scar with his lips, and you whimpered involuntarily, expecting it to hurt like hell. But it didn’t. He simply brushed his dry, chapped lips against your mark, and you felt nothing especially painful. 

You were growing tired of all this magical things you didn’t understand.

“See? There’s nothing scary.” He smiled brightly, and you saw he had human teeth now, too. 

“Yeah, yeah, now please go sit over there,” you grunted, but he didn’t move, laughing at you and ruffling your hair with his large hand. “What are you doing? Go away!”

“Don’t be so cold. You are going to share your life with me, silly woman, so don’t fuss over such little thing.”

You decided it was time for more effective measures and reached out to your pocket to grab the knife, but Steve grabbed your arm before you could do it, sending you a serious look.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you. I’m not here to hurt you, I promise.”

“Really? I have some doubts.” You slapped his hand away, but didn’t try to take the knife again. “Because you have just ruined my life with that bite. How the hell this is going to work, anyway? How do you expect me to live with you? You’re a damn mermaid!”

“I’m a merman,” he said, looking resentful, and returned to his seat, sipping his hot milk with butter - apparently, it was working, and his voice sounded less raspy now. 

You exhaled loudly, enjoying the distance and rubbing your mark that wasn’t as itchy as before, but you scratched it, anyway.

“Listen, I’m not saying I’m totally harmless, but I’m not dangerous for you.” He said as he finished his cup. “You can remain living here, on the ground, I won’t pull you into the water... often.”

“Do you understand I can’t just go and be intimate with you, someone I see for the second time in my life?”

“I’d be surprised if you did. Look, I’m not asking for it either. The courtship doesn’t last for a month. You’ll get used to me, I know.”

His dazzling smile was making you feel nauseated, and you grabbed you cup, having a bit of warm milk, too. Steve was being impossible, but you were thankful he wasn’t forcing himself on you now. Maybe there was a chance to trick him into removing this hex, and you would have to figure it out.

“If you want to know whether we can have children together, I can tell you we definitely can. It doesn’t really matter whether I take my true or human form while making love to you, so it’s up to you how you wanna do it.” Steve grinned, and you clenched your teeth, unable to believe he was talking about it so openly, caring little for your consent. There was something barbaric in this charmingly handsome half-naked man sitting in your kitchen.

Suddenly, you felt like the nausea got much stronger, and merman’s smile wasn’t at fault. What was happening? The world was spinning, and you let go of your almost emptied cup, slipping to the floor. Shit, shit, shit. It wasn’t good.

Oh God. It was him, wasn't it? He had done something to you. He smiled and talked and laughed to make you relax, think of your situation like a simple comedy when, in fact, you were still in grave danger. Were you so stupid to believe him or was it his charms again? You hoped for the latter, curshing yourself for being too carefree and letting him into your house.

“Sorry, sweetheart, it seems I put too much medicine in your milk.” He clicked his tongue as you looked at him in horror, barely able to move now. “I thought we had more time to talk. But, well, we can always do it later.”

Steve was near you the next second, carefully lifting you up in the air in his hands, watching you with a bit of concern on his face.

He proceeded to walk in the direction of the door, but before he snatched your torn sweater and put it on his shoulder, carrying you outside of the cottage that had become your little fortress over these few weeks. However, it could keep the monster off your back, and now all you could do was watching the green door becoming further and further from you with each Steve’s step to the shore.

Your body was completely frozen when his feet reached the water, and the merman left a kiss on your cheek, stroking it tenderly despite that wicked smile on his face.

“I told you, you can’t break the tradition. It is time for you to come to me now."

THE END

___________________

Tags: @finleyjayne​ @alexakeyloveloki​   @helenaeisenhower​ @villanellevi​ @hurricanerin​ @void-hoechlin​ @abyssaint​ @heeeyitskay​ @chris-evans-indian-fanfic​ @navegandoaciegas​ @rosalynshields​ @brattycherubwrites​ @sllooney​ @angrythingstarlight​ @lovelydarkdaydream​ @soleil-dor​ @lookiamtrying @buckysbunny @sourpatchspinster​

[nocturnaldivinationsfallingstars]

A Stray Bullet Part 4

Fandom: Gotham Characters: Victor Zsasz, female!reader, James Gordon, Harvey Bullock and a doctor. Warnings: Mentions of blood, swearing Summary: The reader is James Gordon’s sister and works for the GCPD and is dating Victor Zsasz. The reader has kept it a secret from her brother, until one day when she takes a bullet that was meant for him. Victor then shows up at James’ place to see the reader. Word count: 4121 A/N: I am sorry this one took a while, but I had to take a couple of days off for emotional needs.

The car ride to the apartment that James shared with his sort of, maybe girlfriend Barbara Kean had been a rocky and silent one. You had been jolted all over the car, into the back doors and nearly through the front windscreen a couple of times to name a few. You had hit your side with the bullet wound against the door, even though you had tried your best to make the impact a lot less rough on your already traumatised body. You were sure that you would still end up with a bruise. Either way, you blacked out near the end of the ride from both exhaustion and pain, only to have your brother nudge you awake. 

Each time your body hit one of the doors or the front seats you could hear James mutter out a not so heartfelt apology under his breath. All you could manage from your place in the back was a pain grunt or two to let him know that you're semi-okay, although right now you felt as if you wanted to be sick from being jostled around. It didn't take much longer before James parked your car in the middle of the road outside his apartment complex. 

Once James had cut the engine, he unbuckled the seatbelt and yanked the back door open, hauling you out of the back while keeping an iron grip around you as he closed the doors and locked the car. “Okay, just a bit further,” he urged, leading you up the steps towards the open glass doors that led to the fancy lobby, receiving looks of concern from some residents that stood around the spacious area. All of them watching with mixed looks of horror and surprise as drops of blood fell to the shiny marble floor beneath your feet. None of them made a move to help or even ask what happened to you or James, just simply stood there and watched as he struggled to drag you to the closed doors of the elevator. 

It wasn't like you could blame any of them for keeping their distance and their mouths shut around you and James, what with the given state of Gotham and the recent rise in crime lately. The fact that almost every criminal could get away with damn near anything and everything they do. You wouldn't want to be added onto someone's hit list for simply asking people a question on why they're bleeding all over the lobby floor of your home. 

“How are you doing?” James suddenly asked, pulling you away from your thoughts. The doors to the elevators opened  you stumbled on your way. Jim pressed the button to the floor of his apartment as he let out a sigh, still holding onto you tightly. You didn't answer him As you were too busy using the rest of your energy to keep yourself standing. 

“Hey, hey, [Y/N]. How are you doing?” He asked you again and helped you into the large room once the doors to the elevator slid open. Of course, you still had to make your way through the hallway and to the door, which he then had to unlock. James pushed the door open, and you followed his dark brown eyes as they scanned the spacious living space before you, like he was expecting someone to be there in the darkness, waiting for an opportune time to attack and finish the job. Out the corner of your eyes you noticed that he gave a nod of his head, confirming that it was safe to go inside his own apartment. 

“Peachy… Just — Just peachy,” you breathed out through the nauseous feeling that twisted painfully in the pit of your stomach. You felt sweaty and had a mild headache forming at the back of your head, most likely from the blood loss. Back in the car you noticed that you had started to feel dizzy, although you didn't voice your concern to your brother, it would only make him worry more and become more protective. He was probably already panicking internally enough as it is. 

You squeezed your eyes shut tightly and willed yourself to not give into the urge to let gravity claim you and fall to the floor, where if you had your way, you'd stay until you felt better or bleed to death. The latter sounding like a better option to you right now since you didn't want to have a conversation about Victor with your brother. "You don't look so good," James told you, his voice sounded quiet to your ears even though he stood beside you. "You look clammy, and you're sweating," he muttered out. All you managed was a short pain filled laugh. It wasn't funny, you knew it wasn't, but you couldn't keep it in. 

"That uh, yeah, that usually happens when someone loses a lot of blood." You croaked out snarkily, trying to lighten the heavy air that settled around you. You swallowed hard, your throat feeling unusually dry. 

"You know, she's exactly like you. She can't read a room and her humour is terrible." The familiar gruff sound of Harvey Bullock’s voice sounded out. James scoffed at that, but your lips twitched up at the corners in amusement. You had to force your eyes open. It didn't take too long for your eyes to fall upon the scruffy detective, his hat discarded on the coffee table beside him.

"Well, if it isn't Harvey Bullock." You didn't think Harvey would help if James had asked him to, considering he nearly throttled James into the ground of the men's locker room back in the GCPD a couple of days ago because your brother decided it was a good idea to let Oswald Cobblepot live. You wondered when James had the time to call Harvey. Was it when you had been blacked out in the back of your car? Or was it sometime before then, but you hadn't noticed? It couldn’t have been before you blacked out, you would have remembered the trilling conversation that must have transpired over the phone otherwise. 

A woman with long dark brown hair stood a few meters away from Harvey, a look of concern written clear as day across her features. You assumed she was a doctor, and you sure as hell hoped that she was in fact a certified doctor and not just some shady person that Harvey knows. "How're you doing darling?" He asked you, his voice warmer than it was when he previously spoke to James. He must still hold some resentment to his partner for his lie. 

"Oh, you know... not bad, bleeding out, and I want to sleep. But not bad." You responded, as if on cue your eyes slid shut, almost like you had commanded it. "Please for the love of... just tell me that she is a certified doctor," you whispered to your brother as quietly as you could manage. 

A whine left you as you opened your eyes once more, still trying to fight back the sleep that was threatening to take you to the black abyss behind your eyes. "They are someone that Harvey knows," he flashed an awkward side smile in your direction to let you know that he is indeed being serious about it. 

Blinking at him, you took a minute to process what he had just told you, your eyes scanned his features for the telltale signs of a lie, or at least any signs to indicate that he's joking. Waiting for him to keep talking and tell you that Harvey did in fact call someone who knew a doctor who could do an urgent house call at such short notice and wouldn't ask questions about it. But there was that nervous tick, it was faint but noticeable. 

"Oh no. No, no, and no," you started quickly and shook your head, removing your arm from around his back and placed the palm of your hand against his shoulder, pushing yourself away from him. Stumbling to the side you somehow managed to get yourself free from James's iron grip. "I know exactly what that means. If I wanted someone who is medically uncertified to root around my insides to get a damn bullet out, then I would have asked you or Harvey to do it for me." James shot a hand out towards you with lightning fast reflexes, his fingers snagging your upper arm to keep you from toppling over onto the dark brown wooden floor beneath your feet. 

"Stop being so bloody stubborn! I am not going to perform or let anyone else who isn't a qualified doctor perform any sort of surgery on you, and potentially get you killed!" He snapped back a bit too harshly without meaning to. You swayed on the spot, staring at him for the longest time, your lips parted as if you were going to say something in response. You wanted to, god knows you wanted to say *something*, but you didn't know what you could say without making him yell even more. 

Of course, you knew that he didn't mean to yell at you like that. That he was only worried about your well-being, worried about getting hurt even more so than you are now or worse, killed. However, this had been the first time in a very long time James had snapped at you, and it had to have happened at the worst time. 

"I didn't mean to yell at you," he said slowly as some kind of emotion flashed across his usually emotionless face, but it was far too quick for you to catch.

"It's fine. I get it, Jim." James watched wide-eyed as you pulled your arm out of his hand, causing you to stumble over your feet as you took a step backwards on shaking legs. You could feel everyone's eyes on you and all you wanted to do was to hide from them and sort this whole thing out yourself. Hurt was clear in your voice like a sparkling diamond set out in the sun as you spoke. "It's fine," you assured him, turning away, so you could move the rest of the way towards the couch on your own. Your vision was starting to blur and melt together, you blinked a few times to clear your fuzzy vision. 

You went to take another step towards the blurring couch, repeatedly blinking to keep your vision in focus when all of a sudden it seemed as if the coffee table and the floor raised upwards to meet you, twisting and distorting for the briefest moment before settling on its side. From both corners of the room you could hear at the very least two people calling out your name, followed by the loud and unmistakable thud of your body hitting the glass surface of the coffee table and then the floor. Which was then followed closely by the sound of a million shards of glass shattering and tumbling across the hardwood floor, echoing around you, so loudly it seemed to drown out the sounds of people yelling for you to open your eyes and to keep them open. 

After what appeared to be a few seconds, you could feel the electric buzz of pain ripple through you, causing your mind to jolt out of the darkness and quietness that had all but consumed your consciousness. The room blared dizzyingly back to life around you, the two deep voices of James and Harvey mixed together with the high-pitched frantic voice of the woman that you forgot to get the name of. You couldn't make out a single word either of them were saying to you. 

"Ugh," you groaned out and moved your hand to your shoulder where you felt a dull pulsating pain hammer and throb across your skin. Your fingers barely brushed over the soft fabric that's wrapped securely around your shoulder, but not hard enough to cut off blood flow. Someone grabbed your forearm and yanked your hand away from the bandage, holding it down tightly to some kind of slightly scratchy, yet soft fabric. 

You finally managed to pry your eyes open to find that everything was blurry, the lights hanging above you didn't help much either. However, you could make out Harvey and James hovering over you, but their expressions were something you couldn't make out. 

"Can one of you please hold her down?!" The female demanded snappily with a slight hint of panic evident in her voice as you moved to get up from your warm, cushiony spot. She spoke again as you were inevitably pushed back into the cushions of what you assumed to be the now bloodied couch. "I have a hold of the bullet. If she moves I might lose it, or make things worse for her.”

You didn't like the idea of that and let out a yelp as two sets of strong hands fell down to your shoulders and pushed you further into the cushions. You assumed that they belonged to James and Harvey since they're the only two men in the apartment. Harvey moved his arms from your shoulder and down to your arm, like he was trying to get a better hold of you. James did the same, both of their holds on you tightening, as if they were putting all of their weight into keeping you down while the doctor got to work. 

"H - ow!" You let out an inhuman screech as the woman ripped the long forceps and brass bullet out of your side. Warm, sticky blood trickled down your skin as the bullet was removed. After, the pain was red-hot as it pulsed through you, you felt as if your flesh was burning because of the quick and simple action. 

Harvey and James let go of your arms, their shoulders shooting straight up to their ears as the screech bounced around the quiet room. The woman even placed her hands over her own ears as she stared at you, taken back by the sudden noise. It almost sounded as if you were an ancient dinosaur. "Keep a hold of her arms, and for the love of god keep her still. I need to suture the wound up," the woman told them with authority in her voice - she had clearly taken over the situation. All you wanted to do was to roll over and clutch your throbbing side in your hands, but that was out of the question.

By the time James and Harvey had their hands back on your arms, putting all their weight into it, you had your vision back. James had a stony look on his features, something he had mastered while in the army. While Harvey looked as if he was cringing at everything that is happening to you, most likely picturing himself in your situation. You let out a deep, heavy and shaky breath of air, your eyes darting around the room to find something to keep yourself occupied, to keep your mind from the pain.

"Oh god," you whimpered, you could feel Harvey's thumb rub over the skin of your arm soothingly. You hated to admit it but in a way Harvey had become a brother of sorts to you, a little like a father figure as well, you supposed.

"Okay, I just need to clean the wound, and then suture it, and then I'll bandage it all up." The woman told you in a soft, somewhat calming voice. However, it did nothing to calm your nerves. “Alright?” Like it was any good asking you that question, she was going to do it anyway, and you had no choice in the matter. Unless you wanted to die, which you didn’t. 

Bobbing your head in acknowledgement to the doctor’s rhetorical question, all the worries about the woman who is currently taking care of your wounds being completely unqualified or even a doctor to the gangs of Gotham now forgotten about. She seemed to know what she was doing, at least you could give her credit for that. She hesitated for a minute, before pouring a bit of Hydrogen Peroxide onto a cloth and rubbed it over the wound to prevent it from getting infected. "It might make the healing process slow, but it'll do you some good." The doctor said to no one in particular, but that didn't stop you from mentally taking note of it. 

To you, it felt like the deepest and darkest form of torture and that the devil himself was pressing a burning hot poker against your side. You pressed your lips together into a tight thin line and tried to roll onto your side as if to shield the bullet hole in your side. Tried being the key word since you were roughly pulled back into place by none other than Harvey who gave you a nervous smile, that did nothing to ease the nerves that started to rise up in the pit of your stomach. "I'm sorry [Y/N]. It's for your own good," he told you without hesitation. 

You couldn't bring yourself to believe a word of what he said. If something this painful was for someone's own good then you can honestly say, with your hand on your heart, that you never wanted it to happen ever again.

"Is it over yet?" Laughing nervously, looking up at Harvey and James with pleading eyes. 

"Not yet." James answered in return, his eyes never leaving the doctor as she carefully threaded the plastic surgical line through the needle they've brought with them to do the job. The next painful thing to happen was the feel of a pointed needle being pushed in and out of your tender skin. All you could do was let out a low whimpering sound, trying to find something that you could hold onto tightly for comfort but all you could curl your fingers around was the thick fabric under yourself. 

Luckily, however, it didn't take too long for the doctor to do the sutures. She actually worked really fast and didn't mess up a single stitch. The woman was quick to put the bandage over your bullet wound too. 

"Yeah, I don't plan on taking any more bullets that are meant for my brother. Thanks for your concern though." You joked. 

The woman looked from you and then to your brother, raising a questioning brow at the two of you. "Neither of you get shot like this again or otherwise. I don't want to make another house call for something worse because the Gordon siblings can't keep themselves out of trouble." Harvey snorted out a laugh and clapped James on the back. Perhaps he wasn't as mad at James as you previously thought that night, but that didn't really matter to you right now. 

The doctor said her goodbyes to you and James, telling him to keep an eye on you because you've lost a lot of blood. Like she could steal bags of blood from the hospital she worked in as if it was nothing, like she had done it plenty of times before in the past without getting caught or questioned. Harvey also left with the woman to take her back home, whether it was back to his place or hers you didn't quite care to ask. Not really wanting to know the specifics and honestly if he told you too much information about her, you were afraid it would break the illusion that you made up about her. 

Once they were gone you managed to push yourself up into a sitting position. James had gone to find the pyjamas that you left there when you last visited and stayed the night, so you could get out of your bloody clothes. Although your blouse was pretty much useless now because they had to cut it off to be able to take care of you. Not that you cared about it, you hated the blouse anyway. "How are you feeling?" James asked suddenly. You hadn't noticed that he had joined you and was now sitting beside you with his hands held out in your direction, holding your pyjama's out for you. 

You could see the smallest hint of a smile on his lips, a hopeful one. You hummed out a quiet thank you as you took the pyjama from him, carefully nodding your head "I feel... Less like I got shot and more like the devil himself is using a burning hot poker to stab me." You laughed out shortly, leaning into him and nudged his shoulder with your, wincing at the pain that fluttered through you. 

A light-hearted chuckle came from beside you, James seemed to be relieved that you're joking about it. "I am sorry for putting you through that." You moved to get up, however the movement was slow, and in the end James helped you up by giving you a push.

"Considering I took two bullets for you and saved your ass, I think we're even." You told him cockily and walked a small distance from the couch. James turned on the couch the best he could so his back was to you. 

"Oh, you saved my ass?" He asked in a cheerful voice. James was looking to the floor, finding the remaining shards of glass interesting, to give you privacy while you got into the clothes. You pulled the black spaghetti strap tank top over your head and bit your cheek to keep yourself from moaning in pain. 

"Uh, yes I saved your damn ass from getting shot. However accidental it was," you sassed back, kicking your boots off and watched as they landed on the floor in a heap you got into your shorts quickly. James snorted at you, apparently finding your comment amusing.

He laughed and took a hold of your arm to keep you up right, "right, yeah. You saved my ass," you turned your head to look at him and noticed that he had his eyes closed. 

"If it wasn't for me accidentally getting in the way of the bullets, you'd be shot and probably bleeding out somewhere." You made a face at the bloody trousers that you were wearing in disgust. The doctor was right, you had lost a lot of blood, or at least enough to make it, so you're not in need of a blood transfusion. 

A quietness passed over the eerie living room which soon gave way to awkwardness. The only noises that could be heard were yours and James' breathing, and the sounds of the busy Gotham streets outside the apartment. Your eyes darted towards the open window behind you and James, and then to the front door, both ways for Victor to enter. You needed to call him to tell him that you're fine, he'd be beside himself if you left it any longer, but that would mean you need to get some time alone to be able to talk privately without James over hearing.

"You know you still haven't told me why I couldn't take you back to your place and get a doctor," his voice broke the suffocating silence and nearly made you jump straight into his arms. "Come on [Y/N]," he persisted, nudging your arm with his elbow. 

You were hoping your brother would have forgotten all about it what with everything that had happened or at the very least he wouldn't bring it up at this very moment. But you had to admit, he really did have you cornered. You folded your trousers and placed them on the floor with your boots, staying quiet as you mulled your answer over very carefully. 

"Listen, Jim." you trailed off slowly, thoughtfully, not knowing how to say the next words that you wanted to say. He was going to explode when you told him. He would tell you that you're being stupid and that you need to stop seeing Victor. "It's... Complicated," you shrugged as your eyes darted around the room, looking for some kind of excuse or even some kind of godly intervention to save you or interrupt the conversation. 

"How complicated could it possibly be?" He asked, looking at you for an answer.

"Extremely," you muttered out and moved away from him as he dropped his arms to his side, squinting his eyes at you like he was trying to figure out a riddle.

“You’re hiding something,” he decided.

"Pfft, What?" You asked anxiously. "No," you said a little too quickly and clenched your jaw at his accusation. 

"What is it?" He asked, crossing his arms over his chest once more like your father used to do when the two of you got into trouble for something. Fuck.

Tag list;  @elasmo-branchii​, @nheirei, @the-ramblings, @milly-louise

[anntoldst0ries]

Everything else is just the weather

Book: Open Heart Pairing: Dr Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr Noelle Valentine) Word Count: ~5.3k (I sinned!) Summary: Ethan takes Elle out on their “first” date. Category: Fluff Warnings: None

A/N: It has literally taken me ages to finish this fic. To the point that I couldn’t look at it anymore, but here it is. I had it in mind for a really long time and now that OH is back, I feel like I’m ready to show it to the world. As always thank you for your support and I hope you like it!

This fic is part 2 of birthday present for my friend, part 1 is the fan art which you can see here. Once you read the fic, the fan art makes more sense :)

This is my submission for CFWC Silly Love Stories, Day 12: Date night.

Loud knocks resonated throughout the room. 

"Come in!"

"Good morning, Mrs. Peterson.”

“Good morning, Dr Valentine. I think you are the only doctor in this hospital with some sort of manners, everyone else just waltzes in here as if it was a damn barn!”

“Hospital or no hospital, everyone has their right to privacy.”

“Thank you, child. Once again, please call me Faye."

"Alright Faye, but only if you call me Elle.” She smiled sweetly, and the whole room seemed to be suddenly lit by a thousand suns.

“How are you feeling? Are the meds making a difference?"

"They are. I am ready to be discharged today.”

"Not so fast. I am not ready to say goodbye to you yet."

“Why would you possibly like to be lumbered with an old nuisance like me for even a second longer than necessary?”

Elle just laughed and shook her head. The ‘nuisance’, as the elderly lady so lovingly put it, was exactly what she loved about her job. She loved spending time with her patients, she loved their stories and their worldly wisdom. It made her sad to see how many of them thought they didn’t matter or considered themselves and their lives boring. To her, they were anything but. 

Many of Edenbrook’s staff members kept asking themselves: what is it about her? She was a great doctor, no two ways about it, and she was a genuinely nice person. But what was the source of power she had over people? If she woke up one day and decided to start a rebellion, patients would have most certainly followed her, even if it meant they’d be leaving the premises of the hospital with naked butts or trailing their IVs behind them. Doctors, nurses, administration, cleaners and security would follow shortly. She only had to say a word.

And how on Earth was she capable of turning Dr Ramsey, the grizzly bear of Edenbrook, into a benign teddy bear with as little as one look? It was beyond everyone’s apprehension.

Had they spent more time actually observing her, rather than gossiping in the corners, the answer would have unveiled in front of them within minutes.

It was very simple.

Noelle was truly curious about people. She genuinely liked them and was determined to get to know their story, for it helped her diagnose them faster and also satiated the young doctor’s hunger for knowledge.

Patients never felt like “curious cases” or “numbers” in her presence. They were… themselves - people with hopes, dreams, fears, pet peeves and odd habits. They were human. 

So little and yet so much.

Those never touched by serious illnesses often failed to understand that sickness strips you of your dignity and becomes your identity. Your true self becomes covered by this weird, annoying sticker that wouldn’t come off no matter how hard you tried to remove it. 

But this young woman, despite the nature of her profession, somehow managed to notice what was hiding beneath this misleading layer.

Had all these gossipers spoken to her patients, that’s exactly what they would have heard.

"What's happening today?" The older lady asked with a flick of curiosity in her wrinkle-haloed eyes.

"What do you mean, Faye?" The young doctor sounded genuinely baffled by the out-of-the-blue question.

"Well, I am no diagnostician, but I believe I am rather observant and you radiate with happiness. Something special is happening today, am I right?"

"Yeah, you are right." Elle blushed like a teenager caught in a lie. "My boyfriend is taking me on a surprise date today, but he won’t say a word about it, so I'm super excited to find out what he planned for us. He usually isn't one for romantic gestures, so the secrecy is killing me."

"Do you think he's gonna pop the big question?" Faye’s eyes lit up with excitement.

"No, we're not there...yet." Elle faked a smile, but a tone of doubt and sadness coloured her voice. They probably never will be, those things weren’t in the cards for Ethan, as he already stressed once.

But once was enough and she didn’t dare mention the subject again.

"Well, I'm pretty sure he's got some big guns in store, I would if I had a lady like you." - a male patient lying in the bed adjacent to Elle’s patient added smiling flirtatiously. 

"Jerry, you were supposed to focus on getting better, not stealing my girlfriend." They all jumped when a deep baritone echoed throughout the room, hitting present company like a wrecking ball. She must have left the door ajar or Ethan could penetrate the walls soundlessly, because no one heard him coming.

Exactly how long has he been standing there for and how much did he hear?

"Dr. Ramsey, flirting makes your blood flow faster. Isn't it the very definition of life itself?” Jerry’s tone was brisk and lively.

"Well, it definitely isn't the definition of recovery after a heart attack." Ethan used his authoritative doctor’s voice but knew this wasn't a battle he was going to win. Jerry had something he didn't: a couple more decades of life experience under his belt and even the best medical school in the country couldn’t compete with this.  

"Besides, Dr. Ramsey, I don't think that the beautiful Dr. Valentine here fancies old farts like me." 

"That's where you are wrong, Jerry, looks like this is exactly the type I fancy." The two women laughed, however Ethan was far from amused. "Dr. Ramsey is 10 years older than me."

"10 years? What is 10 years in these times? Nothing. When I was getting married 40 years ago, it was something. But today? Look at all them playboys with girls younger than my granddaughter. 10 years is actually a very healthy difference. Men are immature and slower with growing up emotionally. So I'd say you've caught up, Dr. Ramsey, and the two of you are emotional peers now.”

“Thank you for the fascinating lesson in human psychology, Jerry. To think I’ve wasted all this time and money on medical school and no one taught me this.”

“Dr. Ramsey, it’s because schools and useful knowledge are mutually exclusive.”

Elle and Faye were on the verge of bursting out in laughter, but managed to keep their composure and used the non-verbal communication of exchanging glances instead.

Once they made sure their patients had everything they need, Ethan and Elle wished them a good day and promised to stop by in 2 days, as the following day was their day off.

The moment the door closed behind them, Ethan crossed his arms on his chest.

"I lose you from my sight for one second and this happens. 5 more minutes with Jerry and I'd be single again."

"At least no one wants to poke your eyes out for being with me."

"And someone wants to poke yours?"

"Where do I start... nurses, who had a crush on you long before I even set foot in Edenbrook? Female interns? Anyone, who has a pair of functioning eyes and ever looked at you?"

She was adorable when she was doing this, her whole body overtaken by excitement and her hands waving. When she was talking about something really important to her she wasn't just conversing with her mouth, she was doing it with her whole body.

Suddenly, his pager painfully reminded Ethan that this was neither the place nor the time to lose himself in adoration.

"I need to go, I'm completely swamped today and I have my favourite cherry-on-top board meeting. In case I don't see you for the rest of your shift - I’ll pick you up at 7."

He was gone before she was able to form a response. Was it just her or was Dr Ramsey weirdly… nervous?

* * * * * * * *

At 7pm sharp, Ethan Ramsey curled his palm in a fist and gently knocked. The door opened in an instant, as if someone knew he'd been standing there for the past few minutes.

"Ethan! I mean Dr. Ramsey...please come in!" Sienna squeaked with nervous excitement as she let him in.

"Outside of Edenbrook Ethan is just fine, Sienna. If you don't mind me calling you by your first name, of course."

"Mm..mme? No, yes, I mean... Elle is on the balcony." She tried to hide her embarrassment and motioned towards the tall windows surrounding the living room. Some time ago, he would have been oddly proud to have such an intimidating effect on people - nowadays, more than anything, he was amused. Has he really changed so much?

The answer to his question was leaning against the railing, glass of wine in her hand. Gauzy, flowery dress enveloped her frame and tanned skin. 

For Ethan, it was as clear as crystal: summer had the face and scent of Noelle Valentine.

Long before she started leaving her toothbrush in his apartment and sleeping in his old JH t-shirts, Ethan noticed that whenever he laid eyes on her, his whole body started acting in a very irrational way. His doctor’s instincts prompted him to think of all types of biological causes and chemical reactions in the brain. Then, when he sort of admitted to himself it’s not just pure science, Ethan leaned towards the forbidden fruit theory - the more he couldn’t have his drug, the more he was craving it.

But the feeling never disappeared. Whenever he wouldn’t see her for a while - be that an hour, a day, or just when she went to take a shower or make a coffee - the very moment her face came into his view again, he felt his stomach somersaulting.

Every. Single. Time.

It wasn’t any different now.

"Drinking without me?"

She almost dropped the glass when his voice stopped the train of thought in her head. But then she saw his face, the way too seldom relaxed muscles and a barely-there smile.

A perfectly tailored shirt clung to his torso marvellously. If not in medicine, he surely would have made a name for himself in the fashion industry. Fortunately for her, the idea never crossed his mind. 

The warm wind blew in her face, carrying the scent of expensive cologne which overwhelmed her nostrils. She didn’t know this one, so it must have been new. But she did know that smelling it for the whole evening while staring at his handsome face will be a pure torture.

Simply put, she was a goner.

"I don't know why, but I was quite nervous. Had to summon the courage somehow.”

“As you should be. After all, it's not every day that one goes on their first date."

She looked at him as if she’d just been told that a UFO landed on the roof.

“On a what?”

"Well, I was thinking a lot lately about how we never had a first date. Nothing was ever...typical with us. I promised myself I will do my best to fix things that caused you pain or deprived you of the things you deserved. Maybe I cannot fix some immediately, but this one I can, so I will."

Her eyes, overbrimming with affection struck him like thousand lightnings. Thank god a comfortable silence fell between them - had she asked him a question, it would have been clear that right now he is nothing but a simpering moron.

With this in mind, he took his hands from behind his back, holding a small bouquet of pink gerberas.

"These are my favourites." Her face instantly illuminated at the well known sight and smell. "How did you know?”

"I had some amazing helpers."

Elle instantly turned her head left and looked inside, where grinning, Sienna was showing her the thumbs up.

"Wow, now I actually wish I'd downed the whole bottle."

"I'm glad you didn't. I want to go on a date with a woman, not her lifeless body, even though the body itself is very appealing. Shall we?”

“King of compliments…”

* * * * * * * *

"You actually look like you are having a good time, Dr Ramsey.”

"Why wouldn't I? There is alcohol, sitting under the sky definitely has its charm and the company is acceptable." She playfully swatted his arm, the gesture a quick reminder of how comfortable they felt with each other, something he constantly remembered to never take for granted.

“Although I love this, I still don’t understand why you dragged me all the way outside Boston, I’m pretty sure the rooftop bars are pretty acceptable there, too. A bit more crowded though, that’s for sure.”

“Are you complaining about the fact that we have this entire place to ourselves? I know the owner and he was indebted to me.”

“Of course he was.” Looks like the whole town is indebted to Ethan freakin’ Ramsey.

“With regards to why I brought you here… you’ll just have to wait and see.”

Gosh. She couldn’t decide whether the mysterious side of Ethan Ramsey was hot as hell or annoying as hell. But she didn’t really have time to contemplate, because her companion asked her a question.

“Why did you become a doctor?” The ocean eyes pierced her to the core and she had a feeling that even if she was the best actress in the world, there was no way she’d be able to hide something from this man.

“That’s a terrible change of subject. Also, I must have told you like a million times already.”

“No, you never told me.”

When she looked at him and really, really thought about it… she suddenly realised Ethan was right. Elle told the story so many times she sort of… assumed she told Ethan, too. 

“Are you sure you want to hear it today? It’s a pretty sad story, a mood killer I’d say.”

“It’s what makes you you, so yes, I want to hear all about it - the good, the bad and the indifferent.”

“I’ll tell you, but I need to ask something first. Why now? We’ve known each other for a while and you just… I just sort of assumed this isn’t the type of conversation you’d like to hold.”

“You’ve hit the nail on the head.” Ethan’s expression was gentle, not a hint of irony in his voice. “I’ve known you for a while now, but there are still so many things about you that I don’t know. At first, I didn’t want to ask, because asking these questions meant admitting that there is something more between us. What a fail would that be, after I’ve mastered the art of denial.” He laughed, but it wasn’t a bitter or a nervous laugh, it was a genuine banter between them, as the British half of her soul liked to call it. “But you made me want to dig deeper.”

Was it the heat that made her catch her breath, or did it have nothing to do with the temperature?

“Plus, this is sort of what first dates are for, right? I’m sorry for skipping right to the more complex questions. It’s not that I don’t want to know what you were afraid of as a child, I want to know all the details… but it feels like the atmosphere calls for something…bigger.”

So she told him all about her friend, how she fell ill, how she couldn’t be saved and how the experience wreaked havoc on her whole life, tears glistening in her eyes at the mere memory of the events that shaped who she was today.

Ethan listened, his whole body tense and eyes transfixed. She was giving him one of the most fragile parts of her and he had to make sure his hands were there to catch, carry and care for this treasure.

“And that’s when I realised that if I focused on becoming the best doctor I could be, then maybe one day, I’d be that person who has an answer, who can solve a mystery and save a relationship that means the world to someone. Sometimes, people don’t realise that when a person dies, it’s not only them that’s gone. The part of someone who stays, who has to deal with the whole ‘me after you’ - that part is gone, too. So for me, in a way, this meant saving more than one life.”

For a couple of seconds he didn’t move. Then, without saying a single word and with an unreadable expression he got up and offered her a hand, which she silently accepted. He led her to the railing, where the sun was slowly sinking into the boundless waters of Quincy Bay.

His lips found the all too well known way to her forehead, placing a loving kiss on her delicate skin.

“I am so proud of you.” There was something so mesmerising in his whisper, sending a shiver down her spine.

“As a mentor or as a boyfriend?”

“Both. I want you to know that your dedication to people who rely on you is astounding and hardly present in doctors your age. Or any age, for that matter.”

“Wow, Dr Ramsey, smooth. Trying to hit on me with a recycled pick-up line used on a national TV? No wonder you didn’t have too many girlfriends.”

“No, I didn’t. But I believe everyone has a limit of luck they can get per life. And looking at you, I got a couple of lifetimes worth of luck.”

This was enough to render her speechless. She smiled and at this very moment he knew he would do anything to make her smile like this. She wrapped him around her pinky finger and suddenly his whole existence revolved around finding ways of seeing her curve these breathtaking lips as often as possible and making sure he is the reason she smiles… not crying her eyes out.

Although the other didn’t know, because none of them said it out loud, they both thought the same thing.

This feels so right. 

There isn’t a hint of awkwardness in the fact that they can go from being serious or emotionally vulnerable to funny and teasing in seconds.

In one effortless movement, Ethan spun her and pressed her back against his chest.  Then, he started placing a series of tender kisses along her jawline and the crook of her neck, slowly moving towards her shoulder. 

Come on, just say it Ramsey. It doesn’t get any better than this.

He wrapped her palm in his and pointed them towards the sky. 

“There they are - the Little Dipper and the Big Dipper.” Their intertwined fingers were jumping from one tiny flashing point to the other, as if they were playing connect the dots. “And that’s Orion’s Belt.”

“I really don’t get why at this point I’m still surprised that you’re good at everything.”

Elle was drunk on his every word, as this annoying trait of Ethan Ramsey being the know-it-all was actually one of her favourite things about him. 

As for Ethan, he couldn’t help but think that life wasn’t perfect and was never going to be. But this - this moment - it was in fact perfect. Why take chances of ruining it, when so many things can go wrong?

What if she doesn't say it back?

What if she's just gonna laugh at him or tell him he had it all wrong.

What if he misinterpreted everything and she never thought about him this way?

He was terrified of being this exposed. The last person he loved so much left him without batting an eyelid and disappeared for 25 fucking years.

Maybe it was better to live in a perfect illusion than a reality in which there was even a 0.01% chance she doesn't love him back.

So they both drowned in the moment, drifted in the sea of rapture, lost in the illusion that it can all last forever.

It was her who broke the silence.

“I’m getting a bit cold, is it ok if we call it a night?”

“Right, of course.”

“Thank you for the first date, I loved it.”

Handing her his jacket (her favourite, the dark green leather one) Ethan was furious at himself. 

Maybe he was broken. Maybe he will remain broken forever. Maybe that’s the way it must be.

“Do you want to spend the night at mine?” The question slipped his tongue before he was able to fully reflect on it.

“At yours? Unless you have some secret place I don’t know about, just a quick reminder - I live there too.”

“Since this was our first date, I thought it was a gentlemanly thing to ask.”

“In that case… I am afraid I have the ‘after the 3rd date’ sleepover rule, Dr Ramsey.”

* * * * * * * *

The morning came all too soon and the hot, ruthless rays of the rising sun announced that Ethan is now way past his regular wake up and get up time. He barely slept, tossing and turning, replaying every second of the evening in his head.

His hand mindlessly reached for what he hoped to be the familiar curves and softness of the body he adored so much. 

But his palm hit the mattress with a loud thud. The bed was empty. 

The all-too-well known feeling of hopelessness slipped into the doctor's mind with ease. What did he expect? He was acting weird the previous day. First date, what a stupid idea. She must have realised something is wrong with him and finally left.

But before he was able to fully wallow in the mud of pity, the feeling was soon replaced by an old friend Ethan haven’t heard from for a long time.

Panic. 

Where was she? Is she ok? What if something happened to her and he was just sleeping like a log instead of being there to protect her. He couldn’t stand the thought of losing her… again. Something grabbed his chest in a tight grip and wouldn’t let go. 

Scenes flashed before his eyes, vivid and bright. Their hands touching through the glass wall. Her hand cupping his cheek through the layer of hazmat suit.

He got out of bed at the speed of sound and started running around the apartment, but she was nowhere to be seen. 

Suddenly, he noticed.

The balcony door was opened wide. 

Shit.

Heart in his mouth, Ethan crossed the distance between his kitchen island and the balcony door in the blink of an eye. 

Elle was just serving pancakes outside. The goddamn pancakes. The only thing he couldn’t cook. The one thing she kept teasing him about and he rolled his eyes every time she did.

God, he promised himself he will never learn how to make them, if it meant she would just tease him forever.

She was smiling as widely as ever, putting the sun and everything else in the world to shame. Ethan was still a bit shaken and his uneven breathing gave him away. Elle finally noticed his presence.

“Good morning, I was just about to—“

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

They both froze. 

The tension in the silence that had just set in was so thick you could cut it with a knife.

But the silence didn’t last long. As one man, with eyes full of disbelief, they both murmured simultaneously:

“What did you just say?”

This time, he felt obliged to break the silence.

"I...I...I mean, I…" 

Damn it, get it together, idiot.

"I didn't mean to…”

Great, Ramsey, keep digging an even deeper hole for yourself, then crawl in and stay there forever.

"You didn't mean to say it?”

"Yes. No. I mean, damn it, I am making things worse, aren't I?”

She didn’t set him straight.

"The thing is, I wanted to say it yesterday. I had it all planned, I took you for a first date and I wanted to say it for the first time yesterday.”

"Why did it have to be yesterday?”

“Give me a minute.”

She just rolled her eyes, but Ethan didn’t have a chance to notice before disappearing inside. A few moments later he re-emerged, his face and torso covered by a neatly wrapped, rectangle-shaped object.

"What's this?"

"Something you should have unpacked yesterday, but then... life happened."

Elle sat down on cold tiles, her hands trembling with a mix of fear and excitement. And just like he did months ago, he took her hand in his, only this time he cupped his own cheek with her palm and placed the most tender kiss on the inside of her hand.

It was her favourite medicine, a remedy for all things wrong. 

He sat beside her and nodded at the mysterious package. With impatience growing inside of her, Elle has torn the paper up.

Inside was a dark blue, framed print - the colour of it an instant reminder of her favourite set of irises.

She studied everything with intent. A circle must have been representing the earth and the irregular dots and lines must have been the stars and constellations. 

"A map of the sky? That's beautiful, Ethan."

He knew immediately that although her delight was sincere, she had absolutely no clue what she was looking at and why she was looking at it.

“It's not just any map of the sky.” Ethan explained gently, hints of pride colouring his voice. “It's a map of the Boston sky from exactly a year ago. Well, a year and a day.” He smiled faintly, now a shade of sorrow in his enchanting voice.

Silence. Was she supposed to know what that meant?

“Aren’t you full of mysteries today? Ok, you need to throw me a lifebelt here. What's so special about the sky from a year and a day ago?”

“For the world? Probably not too much. For me? Everything.”

At this stage of their relationship, she knew a lot about Ethan’s behaviours, triggers, his body language. And not just a relationship as a couple, but also everything that came before Ethan became someone she was running through life with (the life of two doctors in one of the busiest and most prestigious hospitals was certainly not a walk in the park).

But it still fascinated her how his demeanour changed whenever the subject was serious, whenever he was talking about something that truly mattered to him. It was as if he’d stripped down of all the layers and let her look into his bare soul. These rare moments of vulnerable intimacy meant more to her than any night of passion they ever shared.

Her eyes turned to him in pledge, because as much as she wanted to, Dr Valentine still couldn’t fully comprehend the scene unraveling in front of her.

“Read the description below the map.”

Dear God, did she actually hear shyness in his voice?

She skimmed through the image again, and there it was, right at the bottom. Elle was so focused on trying to decipher the meaning of the image that she didn’t notice the words below. 

The words which explained everything.

I WILL NEVER FORGET THE DAY 

THAT MADE ME REALISE

YOU ARE THE SKY

EVERYTHING ELSE IS JUST THE WEATHER

Her emerald eyes brimmed with hot tears as the meaning dawned upon her. Words were very unnecessary, but now that he summoned the courage to speak, there was still a lot he wanted to put into words. He gently took the frame from her hands and leaned it securely against the wall.

Taking her palms into his, he placed delicate kisses on her knuckles, his lips tracing the shape of these two tiny hands, which held all of him. Everything he had, everything he was and was going to be, he placed in those two fragile palms, with an unspoken hope that they will hold him and catch him if he falls. 

“Look at me.” The words were pulsing with care and affection, even though his voice coloured them in serious and desperate shades.

“One year ago… and a day from today…” He smiled and she felt the warmth spilling inside of her. The power he had over her was beyond the limits of understanding. 

Little did she know that the object of her affection was lost in the same thought.

“I was standing exactly where we stand right now. It was dark and the view wasn’t that spectacular.” He freed one of his hands, but only to make contact with her cheek to caress it slowly. In this moment, he had to touch her any way that he could. With his hands. With his eyes. With his soul.

“But I always found comfort in staring at the sky. When I was at med school, I had countless moments of doubt, I wanted to quit more times than I can count. So I used to go to a secluded place at night and stare at the sky. It made me realise how, in one respect, I am just a grain of sand in the universe and how little my problems are. Funnily enough, this thought actually brought me a sense of comfort. If I am as little as I think I am, then what is the harm in being brave and taking chances? A wise man once said… There are some things that are worth any risk.” 

She giggled through the tears, the sweet sound soothing his shattered nerves.

“I was standing right here and I never felt more miserable in my life. And I couldn’t understand why, for God’s sake. I was thriving at work. I had everything figured out and planned. I was pushing you to be the best you could be and I watched you turn into someone who would one day be far greater than me. But you looked so sad, so… broken. You already know I can’t just gloss over you feeling down. The sadder you were, the more miserable I felt. One evening, I was having a glass of scotch and I remembered some tiny exchange we’ve had earlier in the day, literally a chit chat. No idea what it was about. But I remembered your smile and your laugh. Every tiniest move of your muscles, your eyes, how your hair set around your face. It made me happy. Even if it was just for 5 minutes, knowing that you are happy in that very moment filled my chest with lightness. That’s when I realised I want to be the person who makes you feel this way.”   

She blinked the first time in a while, as if she was afraid to make the tiniest movement, afraid it will all disappear and turn out to be a dream. Giant teardrops rolled down her angelic face, trailing the path of joy.

“Noelle Sky Valentine, I love you. I have loved you for a long time but I was too stubborn to let myself give in. And that, as you already know, will always be one of my biggest regrets.” 

“Ethan, I don’t… I’m so sorry, I just don’t know what to say.” Her voice was saturated with emotions.

“I’d be lying if I said this wasn’t the reaction I was hoping for.“ 

“I love you too, Ethan Jonah Ramsey. You are by far the most complicated and stubborn person I have ever met. You are… everything I never knew I looked for in another human being.”

Once he heard her say it back, he couldn't get enough of it and a lifetime didn't feel like enough to tell her he loves her, as many times as he wished to.

“But I do have to mention this, Dr Ramsey… from the first date to a love confession in less than 24 hours? I’m sorry, I think this is moving too fast.”

“I’ll show you too fast…but I’m afraid we need to get inside, I don’t want the whole world and its wife to see how I teach you a thing or two.”

Ethan scooped her in his arms and carried her inside, despite her mock protests. He smiled and corrected himself. 

He wanted for the whole world to see.

Because the whole world was right there. 

In his arms.

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

If you’ve gotten this far, I need you to know you are absolutely amazing 💗

Tag 🏷 list: @jamespotterthefirst @romewritingshop @romereadingshop @genevievemd @starrystarrytrouble @terrm9 @mrs-ramsey @maurine07 @gryffindordaughterofathena @mercury84choices @lovingramsey @qrkowna @openheartfanfics @choicesficwriterscreations @lisha1valecha​ @oldminniemcg​ @iemcpbchoices​ @tsrookie​ @fayeswiftie​ @levinsdowneyy​ @brooks-eden​ @poudredevie​ @queencarb​ @caseyvalentineramsey​ @lucy-268​ @tenaciousdeputydreamfriend​ @alwaysmychoices-sideblog​ @whippedforethanfreakingramsey​ @schnitzelbutterfingers​ @the-pale-goddess​ @lem-20​ @wingedhairstylemusicweasel​ @liaromancewriter​ @ohchoices​ @archxxronrookie​

[ssa-sugar-tits]

queen of hearts // chapter nine

summary : y/n y/l/n was crushed when she found out about maeve donovan. heartbroken, she left her entire life behind. what happens when she becomes the most prolific serial killer the bau has ever seen?

series masterlist + taglist

content warnings : murder, gunshots, death, sexual harassment, angst (lots of it)

a/n : reader is a psychotic murderer. this is purely a work of fiction and if you or someone you know are experiencing homicidal urges, seek professional help immediately.

-

You did it.

Wow.

You got you and your baby out of that shithole and you're on the run. The news and the FBI plastered your face everywhere so of course you changed your appearance as best as you could. Can't really hide a 7 month baby bump though, can you? You make your way to an empty road and stick your thumb out to hitchhike. A woman with strawberry blonde hair stops, letting you into her worn out green truck.

-

"Thank you so much!" you exclaim, getting into the truck. Thump. Your heart could jump right out of your chest. All it takes is one headline, one picture and she'll turn you in.

"Make yourself comfy, sweetie," she gives you a warm smile. "I'm Maggie. Where you headed?"

"I'm Lucy," you lie. "Anywhere but here. As far as you can take me, please."

"What's got you running? If you don't mind me asking."

"Let's just say I got away from a very bad place." you whisper. It's not a lie.

Maggie nods sympathetically and goes to turn on the radio.

"No!" you clearly startle her, filling you with guilt. "I- I'm sorry, I'd just prefer silence right now."

"Don't worry about it, Lucy. I know what it's like to be in a bad situation, I know all too well." She says sadly. "I won't do anything to make you uncomfortable, you just sit tight."

Maggie's words give you a sense of comfort, her kindness sets you slightly at ease. It'd fucking suck to have to kill her, you think. After what seems like few hours, you wake up to see her pumping gas into the truck. She enters the store, telling you she's been craving some licorice and she'll be right back. You're not heartless, you don't want to hurt this sweet woman. So, as anyone would do, you knock out the only other person around with one swift swing of a bat you found in Maggie's truck. Getting into the car, you hotwire it while the man you hit groans on the ground, bleeding. Red stains his shirt and your heart races. It's been a long time since you've done anything like this. Shit, shit, shit. You see Maggie at the cash register, paying. Lucky for you, the talkative woman gives you time by conversing with the cashier. Spark. Got it. Taking one last glance, you see Maggie drop her bag and gasp, whipping her head to look at you. There's a fucking TV in the gas station and guess who's face is on it? You back up the van and wince at the sound of the man's bones cracking paired with his agonized scream. Now or never. Hitting the pedal, you floor it.

-

You stop to breathe for a moment, parking outside of a shitty looking motel. The neon sign is broken so it reads Mot l. You open the trunk of the car you stole to look for anything useful. How lucky, you think. A small, silver handgun is tucked away underneath a plaid knit blanket. Where are the bullets? Must be in the front. Getting into the car and searching the glove compartment, you locate the ammo.

"Goddamn, if that isn't one hell of an ass." A gruff voice behind you whistles. Ignoring him, what he says next makes your heart burst into fear. Thump. "Be careful lovely lady. Heard there's a killer running around. I'll keep you safe though." You feel a hand make its way onto your back slowly and you turn yourself on your back.

"Fuck off." you growl. Click. Gun loaded. Pointing it at the man's now petrified face, you smirk.

"I-I'm sorry!" he spits out.

"No, you aren't honey." Bang. His body hits the ground with a thud and the familiar metallic taste of blood splatters your face. A steady hand wipes away the remains from your eyes and you exit the car, as calmly as you can manage.

"I'd like a room please." The motel owner stares at you, astonished. At the blood or because he recognizes you? Either one isn't good. This wasn't a good decision-- at all. Thump. A shriek from the parking lot distracts you momentarily and the owner takes a laptop and hits you over the head.

"What the fuck?" you grumble. The dumbass didn't even draw blood. With a quick flash, you shoot him too. This whole thing is getting tiring. Fuck, fuck. How the fuck? you wonder, pissed off as you hear sirens. Did the source of the shriek really call the cops that fast? Or were you in such a haze that you can't even think straight, let alone keep track of time. Oh, fuck me. Three black SUVs are with the swarm of police cars. SUVs that you recognize without a doubt as the FBI. Thump. No negotiations this time, no bullshit.

You exit the motel with the gun in your hand. Red and blue lights make you squint and illuminate your figure in the dead of night. Getting a good look at the imagie in front of you, you laugh. Lo and behold, the BAU.

"I'm sorry." you say, just loud enough for everyone to hear before pointing the gun at Spencer Reid.

Bang. Thump. The sharp pain shoots through your chest and you hear a scream. Your head hits the ground and your entire body gives out.

"Y/N!"

You laugh, spitting up raspy strings of red as you do. Suddenly, your head is being cradled and you're being frantically whispered to and yelled about.

-

"Medic! We need a medic!"

-

"N-Nice turnout, isn't it?" You cough violently.

"Shh, don't talk Y/N. Please." He strokes your hair as the EMTs load you into the ambulance.

"S-Spence," you call out, barely able to stay conscious.

"What is it sweetheart?"

"Take care of my b-baby for me," another horrible cough escapes you. "Give her the best life you can, t-tell her..."

"Miss Y/L/N, hurry it up, we need to get you into surgery."

"Tell her that her mother loves her, even if I'm not around."

Spencer's eyes flood with tears, they spill out onto his cheeks as he watches the ambulance drive away. Then it hits him. Her. He's having a baby girl.

-

SPENCER'S POV - E.R.

-

Hours pass with still no update on Y/N's condition. Most of team has gone home, waiting on call. I don't blame them. I'm the only one still here for Y/N. I feel helpless, like my head is underwater and I'm about to drown. Guilty, so guilty that I still love her. Angry. She's the one who was shot yet the anguish I feel is so fucking deep that it's as if knives are stabbing at my lungs.

"Y/N Y/L/N?" I stand up so quickly I think I might fall over.

"Yes I'm her b--" he stops himself. "I'm Doctor Reid with the FBI, h-how is she?"

"No loved ones here for her? I heard she killed some people but damn."

"Is she stable or not?" I snap, regretting it immediately upon seeing her reaction.

And then she speaks.

"The bullets severed 3 major arteries."

No. They saved her. They have to have saved her.

"Y/N didn't make it."

Everything stops. It feels like my limbs and head weigh a ton. Everything's heavy. My breathing becomes less and less effective, disbelieving, tiring. All color in the room fades, leaving me in darkness. I feel weak and detached, chest clenching until I collapse into the chair behind me.

"Doctor Reid?" the surgeon questions softly.

I don't look at her. I stare at the wall across from me, unable to speak, unable to cry even. My mouth is dry and I feel broken.

"Doctor Reid, I need to know who the child of her father is. We were able to save her."

Thump. Thump. Exhale. I meet her eyes.

"Take me to my daughter please." I say low and as steady as I can without breaking down. The surgeon gives me an odd look, processing the information I've given before turning. I stop her.

"Wait..." I gulp heavily. "Can I see Y/N first?"

She nods, hesitantly.

"Right this way."

Y/N's body lays, peacefully. It should be comforting to know she wasn't scared when she died but I want her here with me. I take her cold, lifeless hand in mine and the tears finally leave me. I let out a loud cry and bring my face down to her stomach, resting and shaking on her skin.

"I'm so sorry," I cry to her body, unable to hear me. "I love-- loved you. I swear."

Sniffling painfully, I notice something in her bra. Leave it to Y/N to torture me even from the dead.

-

"Dearest Spencer,

I think the way things played out were fitting. If you're reading this, I'm probably dead. Fucking creep, took a letter out of my dead body's bra. Kidding, kidding. Seriously though, give my baby a pretty name, will ya? I hope she gets your kindness, your strength. Everything that makes you you. Raise her to be everything we've ever dreamed of. You make sure she knows I love her, so much. Now quit being a pussy and wipe those tears, darling. We both know I deserved this. I love you, Spence and I forgive you. You got this babe.

Yours truly, Y/N."

-

My heart is ripped out farther and farther with each word read. It gives me a sense of closure but the pain and turmoil doesn't go away. A life where Y/N isn't here with me isn't a life at all.

"Excuse me," I say blankly as if every emotion I'm feeling simply doesn't exist within me. "I'm done."

The woman guides and then leaves me alone with my child. I hold her in my arms and gasp lightly. She's small but perfect and she smiles at me, lighting my heart. She has Y/N's smile. The fire inside me lessens, being slightly soothed by the newborn in my arms. We'd spoken a few times about having children but I'd always thought she'd be here when the day came. I think about it for a second. I won't name her Y/N, that's much too cliche for Y/N's liking. She isn't the type to name a child without meaning.

"Ellie." I whisper.

Ellie. Meaning 'shining light'.

The light I already love.

The light that holds every piece of Y/N's story in her eyes.

The light that'll get me through this utter darkness.

My light.

Goodbye Y/N. I'll never forget you, the light and the love of my mortal life.

-

[ambientstars]

Praise - part 3 (Whittaker!master x reader)

Gif credit: unknown

Warnings: angst, alcohol, eventually nsfw (tied up, blindfolded, praise kink, waxplay), but mostly a bunch of softness you’re welcome

Note: SURPRISE!! I didn’t plan on making a third part to this, but literally one person asked and that all it took for me to write it. This will be the final part because I don’t think I can take it any further. Kind of a longer one this time (2k more than usual) because ya girl tried to put some more storyline into it. Anyway, enjoy my loves!

———

“How do I look?”

You stood facing the mirror, smoothing out your outfit and taking in your reflection.

“You could be wearing a paper bag and I’d still eat you up,” The Master stood behind you, hands on your waist, her fingers digging into you almost painfully. “But I must say you look delicious in this.”

You frowned, confused. “I’m not a snack, you know?”

She laughed, moving hair from your shoulder and placed a wet kiss on the side of your neck. “No, darling, you are the whole meal.”

You turned, amusement clear on your face. “Are you hungry or something? Do you want to go and get some space food instead?”

The Master snorted, stepping away from you and picking up her jacket. “Let’s just go.”

Today was the anniversary of your renewed relationship with The Master. It marked one year of being by her side, of calling her yours and of being the happiest you’d ever been in your life.

And boy, what a year it had been. It started off just like it had before, full of passion, heated desire for one another and spending most days close to each other, taking every opportunity to touch, kiss and caress the other every chance they got.

Except this time, it didn’t fizzle out, it didn’t turn sour and it didn’t become toxic. Your relationship became stronger every day, your trust for each other grew to new heights and you considered it to be healthier than it ever was before.

Tonight you were going out to celebrate, to the club you reunited with The Master at. She had said it would be a nice full circle moment and you had to agree, for if you hadn’t gone there in the first place, you wouldn’t have seen her again and began a new journey with her.

——

The club was just as packed as it always was, each area full of aliens of all kinds, the line to get in twisting around the building.

The Master walked right up to the entrance of the club, ignoring the queue entirely. You hurried along with your hand in hers, trying to keep up with her quick pace despite her high heels.

The bouncer at the door nodded at the timelord in recognition and opened the door without a single word, allowing you both in immediately.

Sometimes it slipped your mind that you see a different side of The Master, others viewing her as dangerous and evil, not to be messed with and granting her whatever it is that she demanded for the sake of their lives.

She led you straight to the bar, pushing past the crowds and stopping at the VIP spot of the bar where orders were taken first before anyone else waiting. She ordered your favourite drink without you having to tell her and it made your stomach flutter that she actually did listen and learn about what makes you click and your favourite things.

The drinks were on the house just like they always were. The Master never paid for anything, ever and it was a hard press to even think of a time you’d seen her with real money in her possession.

“What’s got you so tense, darling?” The Master slipped a hand around your waist and pulled you in close, which admittedly did help to relieve the odd tension in your shoulders. “Relax, enjoy yourself. There’s no danger here. Not with me around.”

You didn’t need to look at her face to know a self satisfacted smirk was painted right across it. “Something just feels off.”

She took the glass from your hand and released her gentle hold on you, effectively removing the protected feeling it gave you. “Why don’t you go and dance for a while? Burn off some of that tension.”

You finally looked at her, your cheeks heating up just at the sight of her under the colourful lights. “I don’t know… I’m not really feeling it.”

Placing your glass on top of the bar, she held your chin between her finger and thumb, and brought her face inches from yourself. “I’m not asking. I want to watch you dance. Now be a good girl and give me a show.”

After a quick peck on the lips, she moved away from you and seated herself at an empty table with a perfect view of the dance floor.

You did as you were told, making your way over to the dance floor and taking a deep breath, trying to push away the bad feeling in your stomach and allowing yourself to enjoy the music playing loudly throughout the building.

You performed as best as you could for The Master, your eyes closed, your hips swaying and your hands roaming your body like you were exploring it for the first time. Eventually your muscles relaxed and you could let yourself move freely with the music, a soft smile gracing your face towards the end of the song.

The sinking feeling in your stomach returned, however, when you opened your eyes expecting to see The Master watching you with a proud look and instead catching the eye of The Doctor who stood only a few meters away from you.

He was with someone, a redhead woman, who stood closely by his side, smiling up at him.

She was beautiful, from what you could tell at this distance with flashing lights in your eyes, her frame petite and clothing that seemed more casual than your own, almost like she didn’t expect to be brought here and instead dressed for a different kind of outing - which didn’t seem entirely impossible given The Doctor’s habit of landing in wrong places at the wrong time more often than not.

You held his gaze for what felt like an eternity, your face no doubt mirroring his own expression of shock, confusion and hurt.

You hadn’t seen or spoken to The Doctor since you left him a year ago, abandoning him yet again without saying goodbye. You often wondered how he was, hoping you’d bump into him one day if only to know that he was still alive and well, your guilt eating you up inside, but now that it was happening, it felt like a metaphorical house of emotion was crushing you, not at all feeling the way you thought it would when you eventually saw him again.

In your stupor you hadn’t noticed The Master come to stand beside you, also looking in The Doctor’s direction, but eyeing up his new companion instead. “See? I told you that you’d be replaced in no time.”

The Master loved a good I told you so moment and this one hurt, like salt in a wound. She was right, of course she was. She knew from the very beginning that your spot would be filled by someone else almost as if you never existed and deep down you knew it too, but a small part of you hoped that it wouldn’t be so soon, that you meant more to him than just someone occupying an empty space in his life and replacing you as soon as you left.

You broke the eye contact with the timelord you once viewed as your best friend and turned to walk in the direction of the restroom. The Master was hot on your heels, throwing an unreadable look towards The Doctor as she also turned.

You fought back tears as you reached the door, flinging it open and pushing past everyone inside to get to the sink, ignoring the grumbles and annoyed comments thrown your way for the intrusion. You leaned against the basin, breathing deeply to try and keep the sobs at bay, your throat tightening.

From beside you, you heard The Master tell everyone inside to leave and give you both some privacy or else face the consequences. Of course they all listened immediately and hurried out until it was just you and her left in the room.

“What’s all this for?” She came to stand beside you, leaning back against the sink next to the one you occupied. “You’re actually sad? Need I remind you, you left him?”

You sniffled and shook your head, willing yourself to calm down. Again, The Master was right. You had been the one to leave him, not the other way around. You had no right to be so upset to see him with someone else when you came here with your own someone - someone he’d been at war with since post childhood, someone he thought would kill you in cold blood, someone who was the last person he wanted to see you run away with.

“I just didn’t think he’d find someone else so quickly.” You released a shaky breath and quickly wiped away a stray tear that had managed to escape. “Just hurts to know I’m so replaceable, that’s all.”

The Master laughed lightly from beside you despite you not having told a joke, her body twisting to face you. She turned you also, holding your shoulders in her hands and forcing you to face her.

“Darling, look at me.”

You did as you were told once again, bringing your watery eyes up to meet hers, the hazel colouring of them appearing darker under the dim and almost useless lighting of the small room.

“First things first, you are not replaceable. And secondly, the man is an idiot.” She rolled her eyes, genuine disbelief on her face. “He brought someone new into his life so fast because he didn’t know what he had standing right in front of him. He doesn’t define your worth, no matter how you felt for him.”

“And you do?”

She smiled softly, moving a hand to rest on the side of your face to gently stroke your pink cheek. “No, my love. Only you do, no one else.”

A warmth came over you, a deep and genuine love for The Master filling your chest. It wasn’t lost on you that during your year together, she had become softer, kinder and more loving. It seemed as if she was a different person from who she was in your first attempt at this relationship, more willing to show vulnerability and voicing her feelings out loud.

Although this was only ever shown to you. To everyone else she was still the heartless monster who killed for fun, none of them understanding how she managed to find someone to love her despite her evil ways. You had to admit that you understood their point of view, but to you, she wasn’t those things.

The door suddenly swung open and in walked the redhead who had taken your spot in The Doctor’s life. She smiled politely and grabbed some tissue from the stall furthest away from you, using it to blot away a wet patch on her tshirt.

“My friend is such an idiot sometimes,” she began talking as if you’d known each other forever. Or at all.

At that The Master made a face at you that said see? He really is.

“Spilt his drink down me while he was distracted by something. Not sure what he was looking at or what he was drinking, but it will come out, right? Do alien drinks stain? I guess I could— I’m sorry, have I interrupted something?”

You hadn’t noticed that by now both you and The Master were staring at the girl with unwelcome looks, your eyes having since dried up and The Masters hand that had fallen to your arm tightening.

“Your friend, what’s his name?”

The redhead gave a look of confusion towards The Master, but remained polite. “The Doctor. Maybe you know him? He’s quite well known.”

Your lover sniggered, stepping away from you and moving towards the other woman. “Indeed.”

You prayed silently that she would be nice, it wasn’t your replacement’s fault you were in this situation. She seemed nice enough and knowing The Doctor as well as you did, he probably hadn’t even told her you existed, that you held her place before her, that he had just been left alone without so much as a word about it.

“Let me buy you a drink.”

The Master’s tone seemed genuine, kind even. You didn’t understand what her motive was, but you sent out yet another prayer that it wasn’t sinister given that your last prayer was seemingly heard and granted.

It took very little time to convince the other woman to allow The Master to buy her a drink, the excuse of let me make up for his mistake passed by your ears and you knew that although it was said directly to the redhead, it was also meant for you.

Your hand stayed firmly planted in The Master’s, a new drink held in your other. You sipped on it slowly, feeling tired at the wide range of emotions you had experienced in such a short amount of time and hearing The Master make small talk with the other woman who also had a new drink in hand.

From the corner of your eye you saw The Doctor standing on his own, just like he had been the first time he’d been left on the dance floor all that time ago, bewildered at what he was seeing.

It suddenly clicked in your mind what The Master was doing, why she had invited the redhead for a drink at the bar. She wanted The Doctor to see that she had yet again taken his friend from him, allowing him to see that they would rather spend time with her than with him and sending out a message that no matter how many times he replaced his companions, she would be there each time to steal them away and give them something better.

The Master was smart and carefully calculated, her plan working perfectly, The Doctor’s fists bunched up and his brows knitting together into a displeased frown.

The redhead eventually felt bad for leaving ‘her friend’ behind and said her goodbyes, making her way back over to the man who still looked lost and angered.

As you sipped on the neon green liquid in the glass you held, you turned your attention back to The Master. She was already looking at you, a brow raised as she waited for you to say something.

“That was painful.”

“I know,” she moved a strand of hair away from your face and behind your ear. “But I had to send a message. No one hurts my girl.”

Your breath hitched in your throat, a surge of emotions yet again came crashing down on you like a tsunami. Tears brimmed your eyes once more and had The Master not pulled you in for a loving kiss, your bottom lip would’ve begun to wobble.

“My good girl.” She kissed you over and over again, placing her drink on the bar so that she could wrap her arms around your waist and pull you onto her lap, making you straddle her on the bar stool that miraculously took your combined weight without a problem.

You continued to make out in front of everyone, your arms around her neck and her hands grabbing at your body in a desperate need to feel more of you. It wasn’t long before you unconsciously began to wiggle in her lap, grinding down on her thighs in search of a little friction.

“Take me home.”

The Master smiled against your lips, opening her eyes to search yours for confirmation that you actually meant what you said.

But of course you did. You wanted nothing more than to be in the comfort of your own home in the TARDIS and to spend the rest of the night in a blissfully heightened state with your lover on your anniversary.

——

“Bath?”

Stepping into the TARDIS, you shrugged off The Master’s jacket that she had placed over your shoulders to keep away the chill on the short walk from the club to the timeship that she had disguised as a house not even a few minutes away, insisting that it was too cold for you not to wear it because humans feel temperature differently to timelords and you’d freeze to death if you didn’t.

You hummed happily at the thought of soaking yourself in hot soapy water. “I’d love that.”

You both made your way to the bathroom and you began to strip down as The Master ran the water into the tub, joining you in removing her clothes once she had added the bubbles to the running water.

She reached out for you and held you in her arms, both of you naked and falling into a quiet moment where no words had to be spoken to know what each other were thinking and feeling.

Once the bathtub had filled up with enough water, you both slipped in, moaning in unison at the muscle relaxing temperature. You spent a while washing each other and unwinding in each other’s embrace, The Master’s hand slowly rubbing circles between your legs until you shook and came undone for the first time that night.

When the water began to turn cold, you stepped out and dried off, carefully rubbing each other down with soft fluffy towels until you were dry enough to make your way to the bedroom without creating a trail of water droplets behind you, the air drying you off completely by the time you got there.

You laid on the bed patiently, ready and waiting for The Master to join you.

She pulled a pretty patterned tie from the drawer and smiled at you when she came to meet you at the bed, your submissiveness never failing to bring her happiness.

She leaned down to kiss you softly, crawling on top of you in the process. “Arms up, love.”

You obeyed without question, lifting your arms above your head.The Master tied them up, looping the tie between the bars of the bed frame so that you couldn’t bring your arms back down.

“Is this okay?” She brought her kisses down to your neck, wet and warm, and torturously slow.

You moaned out a yes, your stomach twitching at her touch that was moving lower, your toes curling in anticipation.

She kissed down your body, making sure to hit all the sensitive spots that only she knew about, her hands skimming down the curves of your waist towards your legs.

She lifted a leg and rested it on her shoulder as she brought her head between them. She kissed lazily down from the inside of your knee to where you desperately needed her between your thighs, your hips raising on their own accord.

“I’m sorry tonight didn’t go as planned, but I’m going to make it up to you, darling.” The Master used a finger to slide into your wet heat, her tongue quickly following, earning a strangled moan in response. “I promise.”

It was rare for The Master to apologise for anything even for something that was her own fault, so for her to apologise for something out of her control was new territory for the both of you.

You wanted to tell her not to be so silly, not to apologise for something that wasn’t her fault, but whimpers and gasps filled your throat, not allowing any words to be spoken.

You also wanted to hold onto her, your hand tangled in her hair, keeping her where she was and encouraging her to keep going, but with your hands tied to the bed, the best you could do was tug desperately on the fabric restricting them and pray that it will eventually break and set your arms free.

The white hot coil in the pit of your stomach began to wind up tighter and tighter, and you knew that with The Master’s mouth working you so expertly to the edge, it wouldn’t be long at all before you fell apart.

And you were right, crying out at the blinding pleasure, setting a new record for yourself at how fast you had tipped over the edge.

The Master sat up and reached over to untie your hands, slipping the tie from between the bars and allowing your arms to flop down either side of you.

“Can you keep going?”

You nodded breathlessly, your eyes falling closed in an attempt to concentrate on bringing your breathing back to a normal rhythm.

“Keep your eyes closed.” The soft tie was placed over your eyes and tied behind your head after she had encouraged you to lift it up for a moment. “Good girl. Now tell if it gets too much and I’ll stop, alright?”

“Alright.” Your voice came as a whisper, raw and forced.

The sound of sparking hit your ears and your head turned in its direction, unable to make out what it was just by the sound of it.

The Master laughed softly, her arm smoothing over your arm reassuringly after seeing your reaction. “Relax, I just lit a candle.”

You took a deep breath and allowed your body to fall limp into the mattress beneath you, revelling in the feeling of The Master’s slow kisses that she was now placing along your stomach.

“Another deep breath, love.”

You drew in another and as soon as your lungs were filled with air, a sharp searing heat hit your sternum, right where The Master had placed a kiss seconds before.

You released the breath quickly with a whimper, your mouth agape in shock. “What was that?”

“Wax.” The Master spoke nonchalantly. “Want me to stop?”

You thought it over for a moment. Did you want her to stop? This was certainly new and sure you’d spoken about it previously, but you hadn’t been expecting it and no, you decided, you didn’t want her to stop.

This was akin to spanking, pain at first that fizzled into pleasure. The heat of the melted wax that was poured onto your skin lasted mere seconds before cooling into something warm and tingly, setting your nerves on edge and bringing a heightened sense of gratification.

“No, keep going.”

You knew that she was smiling, pleased with your willingness to experiment and the trust you had in her to keep going and not bring you any unnecessary pain.

And keep going she did, dripping hot wax across your body, watching how you reacted to the heat in more sensitive areas compared to the more desensitised parts of your body that saw the light of day more often.

Each time the wax settled onto your skin, it hurt less and less, stinging pleasantly and morphing into a heavenly warmth. The Master kept up the practice of kissing right where she planned to pour, giving you a heads up every time, something you were grateful for.

With your sense of sight taken away from you, your other senses intensified, making each touch, each whisper of encouragement all the more rewarding.

The Master eventually stopped despite your moans and begging for more, supposedly because the candle had burned down and run out of wax, but she continued to show you attention in other ways.

She remained close, her hands roaming your body lovingly, worshipping you with her kisses and her words. She allowed you to rut against her thigh, leaving a wet spot on her skin as she sucked on your neck below your ear, your arms encircled her shoulders and keeping her in place so that you didn’t lose your rhythm against her if she moved.

“So good for me, darling,” her whispered words in your ear felt like a song from an angel, supporting you on your journey to otherworldly bliss. “My good girl.”

After a little while longer and a few more orgasms, you were completely spent, your body aching deliciously, your eyes feeling heavy after a long evening.

The Master held you close as you drifted off to sleep, tracing sloppy figures of eight onto your exposed back and breathing in the subtle scent of lavender from the soap she had washed you with.

Taglist: @queerconfusionthings @another-doctor-who-blog @crazylittlereader2474

[ladyartemesia]

▨ FIC • PREVIEW ▨

The Mark of Yun-Ki

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader

Genre: Hybrid AU  • Royalty AU • Fantasy AU • Daechwita AU

Summary: For a thousand years the tiger god Yun-Ki has marked the heirs of the Min Empire and thus only a marked heir can inherit the throne. When the beautiful daughter of the Min Emperor’s loyal warlord rescues a mysterious tiger hybrid from the imperial prison, she unleashes a secret that the throne would kill to protect. The young emperor claims to be the chosen heir... but who really bears the Mark of Yun-Ki?

Word Count: (preview) 2280 (final word count approx. 7K)

Rating and Warnings: Preview is rated M(ature) but final fic will be E(xplicit) for heat sex among other thing. Warnings for the preview include sexual innuendo and mature themes.

Author’s Note: One of the reasons I wrote this was in response to a prompt given to me by @mindays​ like MONTHS ago (I have included the original prompt at the bottom of the preview) • I really hope you like it! Sorry I took so long.

“Why is he blindfolded?”

The guard beside you shifted uncomfortably. 

“The Emperor ordered that his eyes be covered at all times.”

Your gaze traveled covertly over your surroundings, assessing the dimly lit chamber with practiced disdain. 

“Leave us.” 

“My lady, I cannot-”

“Do you know who I am, soldier?”

Your voice slashed through the air like an icy whip. 

“Y-yes, my la-”

“Then you know it is unwise to displease my family.” One jeweled hand came to rest dramatically on your chest. “Your daughter is not yet 15...such a pity to orphan one so young.”

The soldier bowed almost too quickly. 

“I will be outside, my lady-” he bowed again and again as he backed toward the door, “I meant no disrespect-”

Then you were alone… save for the notorious prisoner bound and blindfolded in the cell before you. 

He was clearly aware of your presence, but made no move or sound of acknowledgement, not even when your footsteps brought you to the very edge of his enclosure. 

“Prisoner AG-D2... name unknown... crime unknown...” your hand travelled up to your hair to withdraw a long silver pin, “no date of birth, no date of arrest...”

The prisoner jerked suddenly when the sound of your pin tripping the cell’s iron lock reached his unnaturally sensitive ears. 

His nostrils flared as an almost familiar scent - buried beneath a decade of fury and fear - curled through him. 

“Who are you?” 

The words were more of a growl than a question, but the only answer he received was the sound of his cell door creaking open. 

“Why are you here?” he tried again. 

“I am here to tell you a story...”

The prisoner barked out an empty laugh at your strange reply.

“I love a good story,” he whispered bitterly. The corner of your mouth twitched a bit at his spirit. 

Wrists bound together, eyes covered… but still every inch the proud warrior. His clothes were worn, but well cared for and the body beneath them was sleek and strong. This was not a man accustomed to being bound. 

“You were not raised like the rest of our people... the tales of our customs and our gods were - deliberately - never taught to you...but it is past time that you knew of them.”

He grinned, granting you a wicked flash of razor sharp fangs.

“Are all of the Emperor’s captives tortured with fairytales?”

“Charming,” you snorted, dragging a small stool from the corner of his cell. The prisoner’s ears flicked curiously at the sound.

“Aren’t you afraid of me, storyteller? What if I’ve been imprisoned for devouring beautiful women like yourself?”

You shook your head in amusement as you settled onto the stool.

“Have you devoured many beautiful women then?”

“Oh absolutely-” his grin took on a decidedly sinful slant, “but I doubt that’s why I’m here.”

A strange fluttering stirred in your chest at his words, though you did not fully understand the cause. You could not afford to waste time dwelling on such things, however.

“So... why are you here?” 

The prisoner was silent for several moments as he weighed the risk of being honest with you. 

“I don’t know,” he whispered finally, “I was told the Emperor himself ordered my arrest… but I was never told why.”

Your fingernails dug painfully into the palm of your hand, but you offered no other outward reaction to his words.

“What do you know of the current Min Emperor?”

“Not much. I’ve heard he is young... Stories say he has the temper of a demon, but his people endure it because he is the favorite of an ancient god.”

Your jaw clenched.

“That is correct. Our citizens are privileged to serve and obey the Emperor because the great tiger god, Yun-Ki has chosen the House of Min as his sacred bloodline. It is believed that the Mins are descended from Yun-Ki himself...”

“How ironic,” the prisoner scoffed, “considering that the Mins despise hybrids. They claim we are the unnatural children of the spirit realm and the earth. Surely they would be ashamed to be the product of such… blasphemy.”

Feminine laughter filled the air. It had been so long since the bound man had heard anything so beautiful. The ache it stirred in him was nearly as foreign as the sound itself. 

“Yes it does seem rather hypocritical... especially in light of the events which bring me here.”

Your scent was stronger now. It tugged at the edges of his mind in broken pictures and flashes of sunshine. He knew it...

But he could not recognize it. 

Nor could he explain the heat it began to stir in him. 

“Yun-Ki’s chosen heir bears his sacred mark .... Every child of the emperor’s seed is checked for it the moment they are born. And no concubine or wife of the emperor is ever so exalted as the one who produces a marked heir... except of course, the mother of our current emperor.”

The prisoner leaned forward, fascinated in spite of the strange circumstances.

“The dowager empress is widely revered. I may not know your fairytales, but a hybrid’s ears are better than most. My guards speak of her often.”.

You nodded

“The dowager is indeed very highly regarded… but she is not the emperor’s true mother.”

“Lady…” the prisoner shook his head irritably. “What nonsense is this? And how could it possibly affect me?”

You chuckled softly and the small hairs on the back of his arms rose up in response. 

“Patience, prisoner, the truth I offer you is worth more than both our lives.”

“The fine jewelry I hear clinking around your neck is worth more than my life, lady,” he hissed. “Speak your peace and spare me these cryptic declarations.”

It took every ounce of self-control you possess not to flick him right in his arrogant nose. 

“As you wish,” you replied with heavily affected sweetness. “The story begins with our current emperor’s father. The old emperor was a man of warfare and his spies discovered that the Prince of neighboring PyonKang planned invade our territory, he marched his armies in and occupied the small kingdom without mercy…” (you paused here significantly) “He even took the Prince’s sister as his war prize...”

The prisoner snorted. 

“Did he know what she was?” He smiled coldly. “The royals of PyongKang do not share your nation’s distaste for hybrids or the pleasures of mating with one-”

There was a sharp spike in your scent when he spoke the words; a darker - richer essence than the one he detected earlier, but this time he had no trouble identifying it. 

Arousal. 

Blood churned chaotically beneath his skin, rushing to answer your body’s unspoken request. His mind clouded suddenly and for a moment...he could almost taste you. 

This is dangerous. 

The fabric of your gown rustled as you shifted uncomfortably in your seat - driven to relieve some of the unexpected pressure in your core. 

“He did not know. The lady bore no hybrid indicators. So the emperor assumed - quite incorrectly - that she was not a hybrid.” 

“I’ve heard of such things…” he sighed, sifting through his memory till he found what he was looking for. “A physician I met in Eastern Wei discovered that some hybrids manifest internally. They retain the outer shell of a human, but their inner parts reveal the truth.” His head tilted as he recalled the old doctor’s exact words. “The face of man could hide the heart of a snake.”

You drew your lip between your teeth and nibbled it nervously. 

“You are correct. Except, in the case of the emperor’s war prize concubine, the face of a beautiful woman hid the heart of a tiger.”

The man before you scrambled to his feet in a move so sudden and unexpected, you nearly cried out. 

“You mean to tell me that the current Min Emperor is a tiger hybrid? Surely I would have heard of it. The world would have heard of it.”

You drew a deep breath - almost as if to brace yourself for the words you planned to speak.

The prisoner’s eyes were covered, but he could still make out shapes and shadows through the rough cloth. Your shadow seemed unnaturally still. When you spoke again, your tone was softer and the sound of it resonated deep within him like the bells of the old temple near his childhood home. 

“The princess of PyongKang became pregnant, and gave birth to twin boys. The younger was strong and pale, gifted with the strange golden hair so many of the Min bloodline seem to possess. But his elder brother...”

Your hands opened and closed reflexively in your lap as you worked to calm your pounding pulse. 

“... The elder brother’s hybrid heritage was quite evident.”

You moved then, stepping slowly and carefully until you stood before the prisoner face to face. Your scent swelled erotically with every step until it wrapped around him like a velvet vice. The urge to lean into it - into you - was nearly unbearable. 

“One of the twins bore the tiger god’s mark... but not the one who sits on the throne now.”

Your hand stretched slowly toward the edge of the prisoner’s blindfold. 

“The emperor executed his hybrid concubine immediately, yet even he was not bold enough to kill Yun-Ki’s chosen heir...”

Your fingers hovered a hairsbreadth from his skin. Once you touched him, everything would change. The truth you chased for eleven years would be within your grasp. 

“He sent the child to a poor family of fox hybrids who worked and lived on the estate of his most loyal warlord. The boy was never to know what he was… who he was...”

You could almost feel the moment he grasped the implication of your words. The subtle bond that always hummed strangely between you remained strong despite the years of separation. 

“The warlord had a daughter who loved to ride her horse near the lake.” Your voice trembled ever so slightly as you continued. “One day the horse was startled by a snake and it threw her into the water...”

A single tear wet his blindfold as the alluring tendrils of your scent merged chaotically with the treasured echoes in his mind. 

“Tiger hybrids hate the water,” you whispered, gently drawing the cloth up over his head, “but you dove in to save me anyways.”

Your lungs and throat burned from coughing out the water you swallowed, yet the pain was far preferable to the finality of drowning. The heavy fabric of your gown weighed you down as soon as your body crashed into the lake. 

Death reached for you, but the strange boy cradling you tightly to his chest had pulled you back before you were lost to its embrace.

“Little one, can you hear me?”

His eyes scanned frantically over your small drenched form for signs of serious injury, but you were completely distracted from your almost untimely end by the two feline ears twitching conspicuously amid the boy’s sodden curls. 

“You’re… You’re a cat!”

The boy’s jaw dropped open indignantly. 

“I’m tiger hybrid! Not a cat.” He shook his head irritably. “Have you never seen a hybrid before?”

“I’ve only heard of hybrids. I’ve never really seen one-”

Your fingers itched to touch the soft fur of his ears and you stretched forward almost absently to do so till he lashed out and snatched your wandering hand. 

“What are you doing?!” 

“Oh… I was going to...pet you?” you murmured sheepishly, prompting an irritable growl from the boy. 

“Little One, you do not pet tigers.”

He stood to his feet abruptly, dumping you into a soggy heap in the process. It took considerable effort for you to pull yourself upright while wearing 4 layers of thoroughly soaked cloth, but you eventually managed to regain your bearings and scramble after him. 

“Wait! Come back please I EEP-” 

The water dripping off your dress made the grass rather slippery… Both legs flew out from under you and, for the second time in less than a minute, you found yourself flat on your back. 

After a few moments of gazing miserably into the sky, a familiar face hovered over yours. 

“What a strange girl you are, Little One.”

You grinned.

“What is your name, tiger?”

He sighed deeply and held his hand out to pull you up. 

“I’m Yoongi.”

“Hello, Yoongi.” You tried to manage a proper bow, but only ended up losing your balance again. Yoongi grabbed your sleeve just in time to prevent you from crashing face first at his feet. 

“You’re completely hopeless,” he chuckled, endeared in spite of himself. 

Then you smiled. 

It was a fierce, blinding thing and Yoongi became aware of a subtle yet profound shift deep within the recess of his soul; something his primal half recognized immediately, but his human mind could not begin to comprehend. 

“No one’s ever said that to me before, even though I know they all think it.”

“And why is that?”

You shrugged. 

“They are probably afraid of my father.”

Yoongi’s eyebrows raised in alarm. 

“You’re the warlord’s daughter?!”

“Yes,” you replied with all the haughtiness a ten-year old could muster, “and I’m quite used to getting what I want.”

Yoongi felt a grin tug at the corner of his mouth. You were such an adorable little brat. 

“And what is it you’re wanting now, Little One?”

You nibbled your lip for a moment, suddenly shy before the handsome hybrid boy whose beautiful feline eyes danced with unconcealed mirth. 

“I want you to be my friend.”

Thirteen years later, those same golden eyes locked with yours as a strangled sob bubbled up from the back of his throat. 

“Little One?” his face lit suddenly with pure joy “...is it you?”

Please let me know in the comments if you would like to be added to the taglist!

I would love to know any thoughts or theories you have! Thank you for reading! This story will be published on or around 7/31!

This is the original prompt which inspired this story...

[carboniteprincess]

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, Canon-typical violence, mentions of blood, character death, murder, you're literally a rebel sniper, it's enemies to lovers boba is not going to be nice to you yet, love at first fist fight, I cannot stress this enough, ENEMIES TO LOVERS, he's kind of arrogant? but he's young give him time

Pairing: Boba Fett x F! Reader | 2.0k words

You're arguably the best sniper in the entire rebel alliance, with hundreds of high ranking Imperial officials on your belt. When you're given the order to kill Boba Fett, you are under the impression that this would be like any other mission. Unfortunately, he seems to have great skill of getting out of situations that aren't in his favor. Now you're on Tatooine, where your comrade Orda has lured him into discussing business in a shady restaurant under the guise of being an Imperial Commander. His luck has to run out at some point, and you intend that to be today.

Crossposted on Ao3!

Being a rebel wasn't as glamorous as you thought. You weren't conducting high-level espionage or anything of the like. Instead, your penchant for sniping was homed in on, making you one of, if not the best in the entire squad. The only flaw you had, was arrogance. Never have you let a target walk away, never have you allowed yourself into a tight spot. 

You were always ahead of the enemy, so when your general gave you the order to kill Boba Fett. You assumed it would be an easy in and out job, perhaps he would've posed a threat to other members of your squad. But to you it would be simple, right? Unfortunately not. 

This is your third attempt at some kind of ambush, luring him into a perfect position. Mandalorian armor had few weak points, meaning you had to meticulously spend hours figuring out where would land a good, clean blow. His neck. If angled correctly, one tilt of his helmet and it would be over. Right through the jugular, no more bounty hunter. Another imperial dog to add to your list. 

If he would just turn his head, a little more to the right. Sweat beads on your forehead, eyes focused down the scope. Being a good assassin was all about your ability to linger, to wait. You're positioned on a balcony, a blind spot to the restaurant below. Your associate kept him talking under the guise of being an Imperial Commander, negotiating pay for the next rebel target. Boba Fett sits across from him, drink untouched. If you could see his face you'd swear he seemed bored. His legs wide open, leaning back nonchalantly. 

Fingers clenching on the trigger, you close your left eye. It wasn't like you enjoyed your job, when this war was over you'd swore to never lift a weapon again. The Empire made you, molding you like clay into a perfect killer. A painful truth, a driving force. Your parents. Both were medical professionals, caught smuggling medication to the galaxy's poorest. Promptly executed and then you, an orphan. A street urchin, nothing more. 

It wasn't long into your teens that you heard of the resistance, your heart burned with a want of revenge. So you got stronger, learned how to use a blaster, pilot and any skills that would make you useful to their cause. But you weren't a rebel, not really. You didn't care for politics, didn't even bother listening to the speeches about restoring the Republic. It didn't matter to you, but what did matter was taking out as many Imperials as you could before you die in battle or finally become numb to the anger. 

Self-preservation was no concern of yours, and that made you dangerous. A loose cannon, hot-tempered, and scarily a woman. You were used to being underestimated by your peers on gender, height, birth planet…. and you were the one who gets the high-profile missions. You were the one who has the highest accuracy, years of practice which left your trigger finger calloused, and every other emotion muted. 

Boba Fett had become a real thorn in your side. Threatening your record, career and possibly your sanity. His uncanny talent for escaping situations, even if all cards were against him, was exasperating. You would be lying if you didn't have some modicum of respect for him though, you were somewhat alike. Respect, no matter how great, does not destroy a death warrant. 

Someday soon his luck would run out, and it would be you at the other end of the blaster. That day was today. Lips twitching into a smirk, you watch his neck turn. Bingo. You steady your rifle, pulse pounding in your ears. At last, this mission would be over. You'd become a legend, the woman who killed Boba Fett. 

Bang. You take the shot, accurate as ever. A hum leaves your lips, watching him fall to the ground. Your calculations were correct, there was a weak point. Every armor has one, even Mandalorian. It was like a drug, the puzzle pieces clicking together with every fragility you discovered. 

The restaurant below descends into chaos, even the bartender is panicking. All guests rushing from their tables, abandoning their meals as your associate checks the man's pulse. You stare down your scope, watching the ordeal. He gives a thumbs-up, definitely dead. A buzz in your ear alerts you to a comlink.

"He's dead. But I think you'll want to come down here." Orda replies through static. Your brow creases, what the hell could've gone wrong. Muscles twitching with irritation, you make your way through the currently uninhabited building. You were ordered to avoid collateral damage by all means necessary, a false fire alarm did the job well. 

Your feet tap against the stairs as you make quick work of assessing your surroundings— if something is wrong, then it's always better safe than sorry. It seemed to be all clear, so you proceeded out the door and onto the street. This area of Mos Eisley was pretty habitable, aside from the abundance of criminal undertakings. Dust kicks as you march into the restaurant, pushing through various guests who were piling out at lightspeed. 

With a gruff, you finally make it to the rooftop, an exclusive VIP spot which proved difficult to doctor identity necessary to enter. You're about to start asking what the hell could've been so important that he dragged you down here, but your eyes meet Orda's now slumped body, face down with all color residing. A frustrated sigh leaves you, he was a good man. Even worse, he was a great rebel. His heart was in it, unlike yours. He shouldn't have been the casualty here. You reach down, pulling out his identichip and stashing it in your pocket. An action that you've taken with far too many of your comrades. 

Painfully you pull yourself from Orda's body, standing upright. Lingering would be a deathwish, whoever killed Orda was skilled. An impressive marksman, obviously one of Boba's accomplices who mistakenly thought he was the one that shot him. You could go over what-ifs later, right now you were going to finish the fucking job. 

The sun was beginning to set, painting the sky in crimson constellations as the wind settled. Inspecting Boba's body was your primary concern, whatever Orda discovered, it cost him his life. You were determined to find out what exactly it was, from a glance it seemed like Boba Fett. With a grimace, you move his drooping head around. Concerningly heavier than expected, beskar is light and durable. 

You hook your fingertips under the helmet, pulling it off and coming face to face with…. not your target. Fuck. You'd be deceived, spectacularly. Knuckles white, feeling bile in your throat threatening to explode in a cocktail of frustration and admiration. The crudely made edges of the helmet abrasive against your palm, a reminder of your failure. 

Without a second thought, your balled fist comes into contact with the wall, encasing the helmet and sending tendrils of pain, a shock wave through your arm as you verbalize your confliction with a strangled scream. Orda died for nothing, you were a joke. Everything you had built, buried and locked away was floating to the surface. 

But you haven't felt this alive in years. Being outsmarted, so cunningly sent a morbid thrill up your spine. You could almost laugh, had you not heard footsteps approaching. Impulsively your hand fell to your blaster, making a mental note to thank your teacher for always carrying more than one. 

"Surely you didn't believe it was that easy to kill me." Before he can finish you turn, firing your blaster in his direction. Of course, his armor deflects it with ease. "I must admit, I'm impressed. Not everyone could distinguish beskar through weight alone." A snort leaves him at your feeble attempt to hold ground, looking over your pathetic secondary weapon that could barely injure an Ewok. 

"Go thing I'm not everyone then." You stand, keeping your right arm extended, blaster aimed at his inner thigh. It wouldn't kill him, however it would allow ample time for escape. "You killed my friend." He's circling you now. "Who's your Intel? How did you know I'd be here?" 

"You are hardly in the position to be making demands, little rebel." Another chuckle, you'd heard of him toying with his advisories before, but this was different. A teacher disciplining a student. 

"You're going to kill me anyway, what's the harm." You huff, shrugging. He stops pacing, chewing over your words. 

"Killing you would be a waste." That bastard. "Of my time and resources." He adds matter-of-factly. 

"Orda wasn't?" You spit, voice cracking in frustration. Figuring out what made others tick was your specialty, but the lack of motivation and reason within Boba's actions is what baffled you. 

"That was a favor." He sounds like you should be grateful, almost insulted that you hadn't figured it out yet even with him practically dangling the answer in front of you. Perhaps you weren't as clever as he thought. 

"A—favor? How would killing my comrade benefit me!" You reply astounded, cheeks burning red, hand shaking on your blaster. 

You think for a second, taking your eyes off him. Why did it take until after the kill for Orda to realize what was wrong with the body… He isn't… wouldn't…could've of… you've been double-crossed. "He wouldn't— I've spent months with him—" 

"And every little thing you did, he told me." His admission is calm, you look over Orda's body, no longer do you feel remorse. Just shame. You couldn't even see betrayal under your nose. 

You walk closer to him, the barrel of your blaster getting dangerously close. Nothing could stop you from finishing your mission right now, but he's letting you. Knowledge is far more appealing than rewards in the resistance. 

With your grip around the handle tight, you slam it down across his helmet, your knee reaching his groin. "You're very easy to fool." A smirk replaces the look of misery on your face, it was a dangerous game to pretend to let your guard down. Your risk paid off, managing to get a shot at his thigh. 

Swiftly, you press all your weight on him, knocking him back just enough to make a run for the edge of the balcony. He groans in pain, you're so close to the edge, escape almost in your grasp— when a grappling hook wraps around your ankle. 

You struggle against the cold floor, doing anything you can to wriggle free from his grasp.

It's fruitless, as soon as he's in reach you're kicking him, hurtling all kinds of abuse. Your attempts to wrestle him are almost comical and in a frenzy, you grip the only thing that seems viable. His Helmet. You manage to free it, your fingers hooking under and pulling it off his head, sending it on the floor beside you. For a moment you're the one stunned, not him. 

Dark curls frame his face, a beautiful border to tanned skin. His nose is prominent but compliments his features. Scars pepper his face, but he's young. Younger than you thought. You watch as his forehead crinkles in anger, hands pinning yours beside your head. 

Wasting no time, you bring your head to crack his, sending him back with a kick to the stomach. Your nose pours from impact, dripping onto the floor as you clamber to your feet. 

"This isn't over." You hear his voice, unmodified. You rush to the edge, peering over and assessing if you can land in one of the speeders below. He stands, trying to rush over to stop you. "Don't!" 

With a wink, you throw yourself over the side. In seconds you're hurtling onto the street, watching a bare-faced Boba Fett grow smaller with each passing second. His eyes are widened in either admiration or shock for your bravery. 

He eventually dares to look over and finds that you're gone. Whoever you were, he finally had a worthy opponent. He would find you again. His little rebel. 

[sincerelybluevase]

Careful, Madam Chapter Six

A/N Thank you all for being so patient! I didn’t think I’d ever finish this, but the final chapter has been written. You’ll have to wait a little bit for that, since the wonderful @thegirlisuedtobe is making a beautiful teaser for it, which I obviously want to post first. But rest assured; this fic is finished after chapter seven! The previous chapters can be read here.

All night I lay thinking as to what to do. Systematically, I went through every option I could think of until I arrived at the inevitable conclusion.  

The best I could hope for was for Maxim to be convicted of murder. I didn’t see that happen any time soon, though; everyone thought he and Rebecca had had the perfect marriage, so why should he have wanted to kill her? His identification of the wrong woman could easily be explained away as an honest mistake made when he was sick with grief and horror. That could not explain why Rebecca lay dead in her cabin, but then the authorities could hardly expect Maxim to know everything, now could they?

I could accuse Maxim of killing Rebecca and testify against him instead, but I rejected that idea just as I had done earlier that day when it first occurred to me. I did not think I would be believed, and even if I was, I didn’t think people would forgive me for betraying my husband. After all, he had lifted me up out of poverty and obscurity when he made me his wife. Many already believed I was after his money; if I repaid what they thought of as his kindness by seeing to it that he got hanged, they would think me a conniving little schemer who had murdered her husband to inherit his money. It would be all over the newspapers, and so everyone would know. Reporters would harass me, everyone else would snub me. I thought I might be able to bear that, but what life would that be for my child? For there was my little stranger to think of now.  

Perhaps it would be best for the baby if I did nothing. There’s a lot to say for being born in wealth and privilege, and few children would be more privileged than the ones born with the de Winter name. Manderley was a glorious place to grow up besides. In my mind’s eye I could see my child and I on the beach dragging driftwood from the surf, laughing as Jasper chased after seagulls. Afterwards we’d have tea under the chestnut tree, and I’d cut the crusts off a sandwich, because that was how they’d like their bread. Maxim would scold our child if he saw, because he had, no time for such puerile nonsense, but it would be all right, I would shield them from his moods, his madness. Yes, I could continue to be the second Mrs de Winter, shy and silent, a quiet little thing at my husband’s side. Rebecca had played at being a devoted wife really rather successfully, hadn’t she? And she had never even loved him. I had. Surely I could pretend I still did? For my child, I could go back to being the girl I had been just a few days ago… But no, I thought as I turned on my side, watching the form of my sleeping husband in his bed, I can never be that woman again. Not after finding out Maxim had murdered Rebecca. He had killed once; what was there to prevent him from killing me, too, if I shamed him?

And I had shamed him already, hadn’t I? He simply didn’t know it yet. What I had done with Mrs Danvers would ruin him and Manderley, should it ever come out. He’d kill me for that ten times over, and Mrs Danvers, too.

Mrs Danvers. Queer, loyal Mrs Danvers. What was she doing now? What I wouldn’t give to be with her, to try and alleviate her suffering! For she must suffer greatly now that she knew her beloved Rebecca’s death was murder, and she must seethe with rage and hatred for Maxim. That was perhaps my biggest fear: that she hungered for revenge and would harm herself to get it.

To keep her, my little stranger, and myself safe, there was only one thing to do: run away with Mrs Danvers. But how to accomplish it? I had no money, and there was no ready cash at Manderley; we had accounts at every store and company so that there was no need to pay with bills and coin. Maxim had given me no jewellery during our marriage, so that couldn’t be sold either. Still, I supposed I could find a way. The most important thing was to find Mrs Danvers before she could do anything harmful, and convince her to come away with me.

If she didn’t want to run away with me, I feared my heart would break.

*

Despite my sickening worries, I must have slept then, for the next time I opened my eyes, daylight had found its way into the room. It pooled onto the floorboards, heavy and hot. The bed beside me was empty. I fumbled for my watch, saw that the inquest was about to start. Maxim had left me behind, as he said he would. Two days ago, this would have broken my heart, but that morning, I found it a mercy.

I went to the bathroom, where I vomited. Perhaps it was the baby making me sick; perhaps just the great stress of the situation I had found myself in. I brushed my teeth,  dressed quickly, then went in search of Mrs Danvers. I kept wiping my hands on my dress. What if she had gone to the inquest? I should have stayed awake. But no, I found her where I expected her to be: in Rebecca’s room.

“Oh, Mrs Danvers,” I said. She was sitting on the edge of the bed, clutching Rebecca’s crumpled nightgown. Her eyes had turned to slits, so swollen were they from crying. She smelled of sorrow, that strange salty scent that clings to the hands and face. My heavy heart had lifted at the sight of her; now, it began to ache. “Oh, Mrs Danvers,” I repeated, “how your eyes must hurt!” Like two embers burning in her sockets, I imagined. And so, before doing anything else, I went into the bathroom and turned on the tap. I wetted my handkerchief under the cold water, then took it to her and dabbed at her eyes. She made to fend me off, stiffened, then succumbed.

“I’m sorry, Mrs Danvers. I didn’t mean to leave you after what I said. I suppose you’ve a lot of questions. I wanted to come see you sooner so we might talk about it, truly I did, but I could not find you, and then Mr de Winter wouldn’t let me out of his sight.” A drop of water course down the inside of my wrist, making me shiver.

She stilled my hand. “I always suspected he killed her,” she croaked. “She wouldn’t drown, not even in that squall, not my mistress, not she. For a year, I’ve suspected. I just couldn’t prove it. Tell me, Madam: how did he kill her?”

My throat was tight and dry. I swallowed painfully. “He shot her.”

She bared her teeth, her lips curling back like that of a corpse. “I thought he would. He’s always been a coward. He wouldn’t dare kill her with his bare hands. She would have fend him off, had he tried. Did she suffer?”

“No. She died instantly.”

“Will her bones show that he murdered her?”

I shook my head. “He said the bullet went straight through.”

“So he shall be acquitted then, won’t he? Colonel Julyan, the doctor performing the autopsy, they’re all his friends. They’ll want to believe in his innocence, and even if they didn’t, they’ll want to avoid a scandal. There’ll be no justice for my mistress. Not unless we testify.”

“They wouldn’t believe us. They think me a slutty interloper and you queer and hateful.”

Her shoulders tensed, but only for a moment; then, she slumped. She took the handkerchief from me and pressed it to her eyes so forcefully drops fell down like tears. “Thank you, Madam, for telling me.”

I sat down next to her, dimpling the mattress. The stale scent of azaleas mixed with dust rose up to meet me. “I have thought our situation over. I’ve turned every option round and round in my mind, and there’s only one thing for us to do, Mrs Danvers. We must run far, far away from here.”

She lowered the handkerchief and stared at me with those sore, burning eyes. ���Run away?”

I nodded. “We can’t testify, and we can’t remain here. Would you be able to work for him as nothing had happened? I can’t go on being his wife, at any rate, not now that I know he’s a murderer. What’s there to stop him from murdering again? And there’s my little stranger to think about now, too…” I pressed a hand against my belly. How long until it would swell?

“No,” she said in a low voice, “No, I can’t work for him anymore. You are right. But he wouldn’t let you go, Madam, especially now that you’re carrying his heir. And how would we live?”

We, I thought, and through the sickness and despair, my heart fluttered, she said ‘we’. We shall do this together, she and I. I placed my hand on hers. “Working girls like us can always find something, and I’ve saved a little money when I was Mrs van Hopper’s companion. Surely you’ve saved, too?”

She nodded. “Yes. Yes, of course. I’ve always had little use for money. But I meant, do you want us to live together, Madam?”

“Yes, yes of course! I can’t imagine living without you anymore, Mrs Danvers. I think that, foolish as it may seem, I’ve come to love you deeply these past few days. It’s as if I’ve looked inside of you and seen you, really seen you, not the cold, efficient housekeeper, but the warm, feeling woman underneath.” Blood rushed to my cheeks, and I felt shy again, tortured by my anxieties. Perhaps I had been too eager, too forward. “Besides, it would be practical. To the outside world, I can be a widow and you my aunt. No one would question it.”

She sat still for a moment, then clasped my hands and brought them to her mouth, kissing them with dry lips. “No one has ever wanted to live with me like that. I’ve always been needed as a nanny, or a housekeeper. Never as a person. Thank you, Madam,” she murmured.

I rested my head against her shoulder. “When should we leave, do you reckon?” Every fibre of my being wished to never see Maxim again, but if we left too hastily, we might make mistakes that could lead Maxim to us. Better to suffer his presence for a little while longer if that meant I could be rid of him forever.

“Not quiet yet, Madam. In a month, perhaps. It gives you time to lull Mr de Winter into a false sense of security, and by then you won’t be so sick with child anymore. Besides, it will give me the time I need to prepare our journey.”

“Will it be hard for you, to leave Manderley? It has been your home for years.”

She stroked a line on the back of my hand. “It was my home because of my mistress. I’ve a new mistress now. Where she leads, I shall follow, and let her be my home.”

Tears pricked in my eyes. “And you shall be mine. My God, I can hardly wait. It shall be heaven, to be with you, to never have to see Mr de Winter again.”

“Well, well, well,” a voice said.

I got up and whipped around. My bowels turned to water and my knees were so weak I almost had to sit down again.

Maxim stood on the threshold, his face that strange waxen mask I had observed in him often when he was tired or angry. “Maxim,” I said stupidly. “I thought… the inquest…”

“That didn’t take more than an hour. A verdict of accidental death. I rushed straight home to tell you the good news, only I couldn’t find you. You can imagine my surprise when Frith told me he had seen you gone into Rebecca’s rooms. I almost didn’t follow you here, but then I thought, what power does that perverted slut hold over me now that I’ve killed her and gotten away with it? Only I didn’t expect to find that my devoted little wife has turned out to be a perverted little slut as well, scheming with a housekeeper twice her age to elope.”

“I didn’t… we weren’t…”

“You little bitch,” he hissed. He dashed through the room and struck me so quickly I barely saw his fist move. His knuckles connected with my cheekbone. The pain took a few seconds to arrive, hot and sharp.

Oh, I thought stupidly. I made to press a hand to my cheek, but he grabbed my wrists and pulled me to him. “You little bitch!” he roared, spittle flying from his mouth. “How dare you leave me?!”

He shook me so hard my teeth rattled. This, I thought with icy certainty, this is how I shall die: at the hands of my husband. Funny; he hadn’t dared kill Rebecca with his own hands, but then I had never quite measured up to his first wife, now had I?

“Stop!” I pleaded. “Maxim, please stop! You’re scaring me!”

He slapped my face with an open palm, bringing tears to my eyes. He raised his hand to strike again when Mrs Danvers said, “I wouldn’t do that if I were you, sir.”

A metallic click sounded.

Maxim turned to look at her, his hand frozen in mid-air.

Mrs Danvers was pointing a gun at him.

Tagging: @solattea, @mlletina, @msmaryadmitrievna, @alice1nwond3rland, @need-not, @halewynslady

[arigatouiris]

the fool’s curse // akutagawa ryunosuke x reader

Author’s Note: I absolutely adore Akutagawa and think he deserves the world; and I can definitely see him as being soft with someone he has feelings for and whoop why not give his coughing a reason anyway lmao. Hope you enjoy!

Word count: 8k+

Pairing: Akutagawa Ryunosuke x Reader

Summary: ［Ａｋｕｔａｇａｗａ ｘ Ｒｅａｄｅｒ］: Akutagawa wasn't someone who hoped, he chased after what he believed he deserved, like a dog chasing after cars. Futility was part of existence, after all, and it was a fact he believed he had accepted. Every part of your existence was a bane to his, and he was cursed to have even met you. Love was nothing but a fool's curse, and Akutagawa hated being one. Especially when it was physically killing him in the form of lilac petals infused with blood. [Hanahaki AU]

Warnings: angst to fluff, soft aku, mentions of blood, swearing (because Aku ofc), softness, tooth-rotting fluff, some angst if you squint (Also Chuuya makes an appeareance bc I love that shrimp mafioso)

If Akutagawa could place together pieces of why he was aggravated by your very presence, it wouldn’t have led him to where he currently was. Avoiding your gaze, coughs multiplied by numerous ramifications, hands shaking, forehead breaking out into a sweat—he had never felt more obscenely weak than sitting before you on his bed, having your keen gaze observe his frail body. Numbness coursed through his veins and never before had he wished to disappear more than right then; it was suffocating to sit in front of you while you wordlessly judged him, deemed him moronic in that pretty little head of yours. He stilled momentarily before slapping himself internally; you were no such person. You wouldn’t judge another. The entire reason for his predicament right then was simply because of how perfect you were.

    And no perfect human being would dare judge another. Especially not someone as broken as he.

    “Is it…” You sounded so defeated, he’d have done anything to hear your giggles and laughter once again, but life wasn’t as giving to him. It had never been. “Is that person… me?”

    Indeed, it had always been you. Ever since he had laid his eyes on you, ever since there had been that cursed deepening between the bond he shared with you, the moronic display of his own version of affection that on odd days caught him off guard—ever since he had coughed out blood infused with purple-magenta lilacs, he had known that it was you. He wasn’t familiar with the disease he carried, but he deemed it a fool’s curse to be caught with a feeling as hopeless as this. Yet, you were the one to once again aid him. You were the one who had told him what was happening and it had thus become inevitably clear to him as if it wasn’t clear already; Akutagawa “Rabid Dog” Ryuunosuke was hopelessly, carelessly, irrevocably, and painfully in love with you—a commoner, a medical student, a moron.

*

The first time Akutagawa saw you was when he was returning from a minor mission. It was something Higuchi herself could have easily handled, but there wasn’t a chance the dog was letting his subordinates handle an entire subgroup on their own. Intimidation was something Akutagawa did best, and it was the one thing he looked forward to when concerned with minor missions such as these. Not that anyone minded that he tagged along; however, once it was done, there was no more reason for him to waste any more time around the area. Returning to the car, he merely had to just stand near the vehicle for Higuchi to come running and start the engine, heading back to the headquarters.

    A sudden break harshly pulled him out of his reverie and that was when he saw you—on the other end, hands outstretched and a pleading look in your eye. It wasn’t that he was always quick to anger, he knew there was a reason why you were stopping traffic, and when he craned his neck to look at what you were shielding, the answer was clear. There was a man, frothing from his mouth, shaking uncontrollably on the ground and there you were, wearing a white coat, hair pulled behind you in a messy bun, eyes far too tired to be seen in such broad daylight, begging him to stop his car so that she can at least move the man.

    “What should I do, senpai?” Higuchi asked, her voice cold. “Should I ram into—“

    “No,” Akutagawa leaned back and watched, “This doesn't concern me.”

    “Looks like the man is having an epileptic attack.” The blonde woman said, blinking.

    It didn’t matter to him what was happening with the man, but when you pulled yourself over to the window by which Akutagawa sat, he was alerted. You knocked twice, albeit pleadingly at his window, before he turned to Higuchi who easily read the look he gave her incorrectly. Pulling out a gun, she threatened to shoot you before ordering you to back away, but you stood there, staring right into her eyes expressionlessly. Akutagawa blinked before wondering where else he had seen eyes as devoid of fear as yours before lowering his window.

    “What do you want?”

    “That man is dying,” You said, “You’re the Port Mafia, right?”

Higuchi hissed before shoving her gun forward, but you paid her no heed.

    “That’s right. Back away while you know what’s good for you, peasant.” Akutagawa said, looking away from you.

    “The Port Mafia loves the city, correct? I’m sure whoever your leader is would agree that saving one man is also in a way keeping the peace. Help me take him to a hospital, and you’ll never see this peasant again.”

    Just before Higuchi could try to intimidate you once more, Akutagawa stopped her. It was not the kindness of his heart that decided to go with your pleas. It was not anything to do with a positive emotion at all, it was simply the fact that the nearest hospital was 500 meters ahead, and a frail person like yourself couldn’t possibly move a dying man on your own. You immediately turned to the epileptic man and ignored the helpless, ignorant onlookers before putting one arm under his shaking one, and attempted to pull him forward; however, a long, dark cloth-like substance wrapped itself around the man before pulling him inside the car forcefully, earning a gasp out of you. You stared at Akutagawa before nodding and following him inside. You sat beside the dying man before offering him a piece of metal and placed it in between his mouth, to prevent him from biting his tongue off in shock. Akutagawa watched you from the rear-view mirror without a word, wondering if he was doing something idiotic or if he was actually carrying forward the legacy his organization aimed to keep.

    “Senpai,” Higuchi whispered, “Are you sure… this is fine?”

    He didn’t answer her but instead turned to you. He noticed that your white coat was no ordinary lab coat, you were a doctor. This explained why you looked so tired and why you wanted to help a random man on the road, but what it didn’t explain was how unfazed you were with Higuchi’s threats earlier; this was what alerted Akutagawa in the first place. The eyes you wore maliciously, the eyes devoid of emotion, especially for a young doctor—it wasn’t ordinary.

    “Is there a reason why you’re staring at me?” You asked, turning to him.

    “How dare you—“

  “Shut up, Higuchi,” He scolded before turning to you with a snarky smirk, “You’re a doctor. Surely, you should know you can’t help everyone you see. You saw the people around you, those are the people you’re trying to protect. Your efforts are futile if it’s thankless.”

    “So are yours,” You answered instantly, not meeting his gaze. “Just living is thankless, and yet we thrive. It’s both fascinating and utterly stupid.”

    The car stopped and you instantly ran out before calling in someone from the hospital to help you carry the man away. Akutagawa couldn’t forget what you had said; the words slipped out of you as if you memorized them, it was marvelous how effortlessly you had replied to his attempt at minor intimidation. It wasn’t enough for him to be allured by you but the moment Higuchi attempted to drive off, you rushed back and knocked on the window beside his face once more. This time the tired look in your eyes was more than evident, yet the chapped-lipped smile made him queasy. Akutagawa wasn’t always the receiver of such positive reactions from the general public, so this change was bizarre.

    “Even though it’s futile, or worthless, I like doing it. And you helped me. So, thank you… Uh…”

    “Akutagawa.”

    Your smile only widened before you tilted your head a bit, “Thank you, Akutagawa-san.”

    His eyes landed on your nameplate inches above your coat pocket and he memorized your name: (l/n) (y/n). He watched as you skirted around and walked into the hospital, not a word was said thereafter. He could feel Higuchi kickstart the car and drive them back to base, but as much as he’d have liked to stop thinking of you, it was, as you had said, futile.

*

The next time Akutagawa saw you was in a place he’d never expected to find you in. He stilled in his movements when he spotted you walk into the Port Mafia building, guided by two other armed men, before rushing forward to know what you were doing there. He noticed Koyo Ozaki, standing in front of the room you had just entered and he stopped before her, a questioning look in his eye. She blinked at him before wondering what he wanted, Akutagawa wasn’t the type to exchange pleasantries after all.

    “Are you looking for the other runt? He’s inside—“

    “Why was she here?”

    He should have understood that a pronoun with no prior mention to a name would barely hold any meaning to someone like Koyo. She continued to give him a blank stare before wondering if he was referring to you, the girl who had just walked in to talk to Mori. She could have wondered how the rabid dog knew someone like you, but it wasn’t her place to care. Shrugging, Koyo knew that whatever she said didn’t matter right then.

    “She’s the daughter of one of Mori-san’s old enemies. He’s trying to recruit her,” Koyo waved her hand callously in the air, “Either that or she’ll be terminated. It’s not really my problem so I don’t know. I’m here because there’s something I need to tell him after.”

    What he couldn’t understand was how you were linked to the Port Mafia. Your father was one of the enemies? Did that mean you were an enemy? Were you still linked to your father or had he been terminated beforehand? Not knowing these details, but merely remembering the way you had smiled at him angered him, and he felt a raging cough begin to itch at his throat. Koyo watched as Akutagawa coughed into his hand, feeling the familiar itch that only managed to grow till it burned his nostrils.

    “There’s a name for such a disease,” She said, eyes cloudy, “But, I can see you haven’t caught it yet.”

    The black-haired man narrowed his eyes at the cryptic words the woman said, before turning to find the door opening. You walked out, this time with no one but Nakahara Chuuya behind you. Your eyes widened when you spotted Akutagawa and a smile adorned your features. You approached him before nodding at him, as to acknowledge him. Chuuya blinked before scratching his chin.

    “You know each other?”

    “Yes—“

    “Barely,” Akutagawa said, in between coughs, “What’s she doing here?”

    “You should get that cough looked at, Akutagawa-san. I’d be happy to—“

  “Shut up,” He threatened before glaring at you, and then turning to Chuuya, “What’s going on?”

   Chuuya shrugged, “This girl’s some hot shot’s daughter, but since he’s dead, Boss decided not to worry about her. Besides, she’s harmless. No ability, just a med student.”

    “Nakahara-san, if you would please drop me back from where you rudely picked me up, I’d be grateful.”

    Chuuya groaned before shutting his eyes, “Uh, you know, Akutagawa, why don’t you drop her off? You two can catch up—“

    “I don’t know her.”

    “—and I don’t care. Thanks. See ya!”

    Koyo let out a sigh before wandering inside the room Mori-san is in. You turned to Akutagawa before letting out a sigh yourself, and bowing slightly. He watched you with annoyance plastered all over his face, wondering why in the world you were all of a sudden everywhere. Ever since meeting you, you’d been plaguing his mind like some sort of disease, it was angering. He clicked his tongue before leading you out of the building and finding Higuchi’s car. Higuchi had ensured that Akutagawa would have an additional pair of keys with him at all costs, which came in handy just then. Akutagawa hated the position he was in, completing menial tasks that were assigned to someone else first—Chuuya always pushed minor work on to him whenever he felt like it, and now, he was stuck with you—someone he felt agitated around, someone he believed, even breathing felt like carrying a boulder on his shoulders.

    “I’m very sorry about this,” You said, just a moment before stopping in front of the car, “If I had known Nakahara-san would simply push this on to you, I’d have refrained from asking him—“

    “You think I can’t do something so simple?” He snapped, glaring at you.

    “N-No, that’s… I know it’s a burden.”

    Akutagawa gave you a look, which was either a mix between confusion and fear—an unusual look for him to sport on his face, having never been used to feeling such intense positive emotions before. You were looking at him, afraid to be a burden? This was his job. There was no burden, there was no blessing. It was all worthless in the end.

    “You’re not important enough to be a burden,” He snarled, getting into the car, “Stop worrying over idiotic things.”

    “We all worry over idiotic things,” You said, smiling and getting into the car yourself, “I think it’s a part of who we are.”

    “Don’t group me along with the likes of you.”

    You stayed quiet for a second before nodding, “Yeah,” Akutagawa paused momentarily at your sudden acceptance, “You’re right.”

    What did you mean by that? What did you mean by your words? Why did they sound so heavily laced with an emotion that triggered the worst of responses from him? Suddenly, he felt the urge to either slam his hand against the steering wheel out of sheer anger or just stare at you, attempting to decipher any meaning from the words that had just slipped out of you. What a bane to his existence, when answers seemed more confusing than anything Dazai had put him through. Perhaps, you understood from his silence that he was curious about your origins, but now was not the time to unveil anything of the sort. You carried your own burdens, dark and menacing as they may be, but the only solace Akutagawa found in that second was when you turned to him with those very callous eyes and smiled instead.

    “Thank you, again.”

    This time, he did not fight back. This time, he glanced at you as if you were an enchanting representation of everything he had been missing in his life. With eyes like his, he had never imagined that a smile could even be possible—that anything positive could be linked to the way his mind worked. He had been broken beyond repair, or perhaps that was his assumption, but then again, with the way you were looking at him right then, Akutagawa felt an emotion he hadn’t felt in a desperately long time.

    He drove in silence but figured that it was the silence that made things weird for you; he could notice you trying to fill in the gaps with baseless talk, commenting on the weather, talking about patients from your med school, everything and anything that distracted him from your mysterious origins, yet, every time your words would reflect against the barrier of quiet he had put around himself, Akutagawa felt his mind land back on discovering about you. The drive to the hospital wasn’t long, but it felt like one the longest drives he had ever taken. He stopped there, before noticing you still in your seat. You were supposed to get up and leave yet there was this aching hunger in him that demanded you answer his unasked questions before going. You turned to him before blinking a few times, and before you can say anything at all, Akutagawa began to cough. It was something he carried wherever he went, and the confusion he felt around you only made it worse. This proved that you were merely a disease, an error in the making. There was nothing he would get from you apart from violent chest burns and a waste of time. You reached forward to touch him out of worry, but he grabbed your wrist so harshly you winced, pulling away out of instinct. As he coughed, he turned to you with a menacing glare—warning you to never attempt to do that again.

    “Akutagawa-san, I—“

    “Don’t,” He took a raspy breath, before coughing again, “Don’t touch me!”

    He gripped harder, knowing full well that the pressure was enough to hurt you. Yet, you sat there, worried eyes plastered toward his form. He hated it. He hated when you directed such a look toward him, he hated being scrutinized by your apparent kindness. Who were you to direct it toward him anyway? A nobody. A peasant. A moron.

    You pulled back quietly, but he wouldn’t let go. You stared at him before letting out a breath; it wasn’t sympathy that pushed you to do what you did next, it was the only human emotion you didn’t feel too ashamed displaying out in the open—care.

    “Akutagawa-san, normally when I study I go to this cafe in central Yokohama,” You pursed your lips, wondering if this information would even make a difference, “The silence there, the… the atmosphere of the place makes it too easy for me to relax and just read. And they have great tea, too!”

    “What useless information.”

    You smiled a bit before shaking your head and opening the door, “I hope I see you around, Akutagawa-san.”

    When you got out of the car, Akutagawa wasted no time in driving back. The fact remained: he stayed there any longer, he’d merely be wasting time. Yet, for some reason, your presence lingered in the seat that you were sitting in earlier, and when he thought of that he felt the sudden urge to cough yet again. However, this time, he felt a tad bit different than general. The cough that carried over began from his chest, phlegm that was never present before manifested out of nowhere and he thought for a second if he had been out in the cold for too long or if he had eaten something to have caused such a reaction, but the image of your bitter smile marred with those callous eyes of yours catered to create a tornado within his chest that left him a breathing, aching mess of disgruntled coughs that radiated a new weakness. It has to be a cold, he thought before continuing on driving back.

    Gin never asked her brother to accompany her when she took evening walks, but that evening since he was also quite free, the siblings decided to get some tea together. He always merely followed after her, since she knew the place better than he ever did; yet, Akutagawa did things differently that evening. He walked alongside his sister, mumbling something about a quiet cafe in central Yokohama, and Gin paused.

    “How do you know about that?” She asked, “It’s one of my favorite places to go to.”

    So, you weren’t lying. It must be a decent place if his sister approved of it, hence there was no reason to not go. It wasn’t as if he was going there to see you—the last thing he wanted was to see you and have you invoke that disgusting emotion in him again. The mere thought of you made him want to cough some more, but he was well hydrated that evening. He followed Gin toward the central streets, finding a lone cafe toward the end of the street; he walked inside, but when his chest ached, he realized you weren’t there.

    “The tea here is really good.” Gin said before going over to sit at a table.

    He took a few seconds before seating himself across from her, feeling the urge to cough once more. Pulling out his hand, which was nestled in his pocket, Akutagawa coughed violently into his fist, alerting his sister. As he coughed, he could feel phlegm build up in his fist but the second his eyes landed on what he had coughed out, Akutagawa froze. Mixed with his own blood sat a tiny petal, a purplish-red hue on it and he couldn’t tell if it was the blood that gave it that color or not. When he breathed in, he felt as if something were lodged in his chest and the more he coughed, the more he coughed out the petals as if there was a live plant growing inside him. Excusing himself, Akutagawa headed inside the cafe’s bathroom before finally allowing himself to cough freely. Four more petals shoved themselves out of his throat before his eyes leaked tears that burned his skin. What was this new sickness? Was this an ability?

    His eyes widened. He had understood. It was you. Ever since he had seen you, he had been infused with a different cough. This was your doing. You were trying to take out the strongest rabid dog in the mafia for your own intentions; perhaps, it was because your father was Mori-san’s enemy, perhaps you wanted revenge for something that happened in the past. Perhaps, your smile meant nothing, after all—it was all a farce so you could take him out, and Akutagawa had been the fool and fallen for your trick. He washed his hands thoroughly before knowing full well that the next time he’d see you would be him barging through your apartment door, demanding answers for what you had done to him. Whether he’d kill you or not wasn’t too clear yet, but he was sure of one thing.

    He felt like he would die if he didn’t see you. Thinking of the petals that he had coughed out, Akutagawa was more than sure that death was imminent.

*

Your hands were shaking and you could barely breathe; the anxiety rappelled from inside your mind and held a vine-like grip all over your body. You knew it was futile to try and breathe or get any studying done with the way you were being, but you had to try. Tears leaked out of your eyes and it felt as if waves were crashing inside your head and every inch of you was drowning and you did very little to try and hold on to the limited reality that was visible to you. You breathed in heavily before another sob cracked through your throat, sinking your entire body to the ground. Your books lay scattered everywhere and you tried to swallow some saliva to soothe your aching throat, but your body wasn’t listening to you and neither was your mind.

    So, at that moment, when the door barged open and black cloth-like arms wrapped around you, pulling you to the air, you let it take you. You shut your eyes before the sobs only multiplied, now you were both scared for your life and desperate, but no part of you would run. You were held in place until a familiar voice pulled you out of the reverie you were in, bringing you back to where you had been before the breakdown happened.

    “What’s wrong with you?” Akutagawa asked, narrowing his eyes.

    He hadn’t expected to find you in such a pitiful state. Surely, if you were a mastermind of deception, you’d be a little more prepared. You didn’t look like you were anywhere close to prepared, you didn’t even look like you were willing to fight. When you opened your eyes, he saw it again—the hollow, empty shells that they were despite the sobs that broke through your lips. Had he scared you? No, you had been in that pitiful state even before he got there. He felt his chest burn once again and that made him think of your ability—the one you had apparently used on him.

    “Akutagawa-san…” Your voice was raspy, and it was then he realized it might have been holding on to you far too tightly to deem comfortable. “…please…”

    He didn’t know what you were asking for but he let you down and waited. Were you going to give him the answers he needed? Was everyone going to be made clear? What was it that you did? What was your master plan?

    “I’m… I’m sorry you had to see me like that,” You said, letting out a bitter chuckle, “And… my door… You broke it.”

    He turned to look at the door and he had indeed broken it down, but that wasn’t the problem. He looked back at you before noticing that you were standing up now, walking toward your kitchen. He couldn’t understand why he let silence envelop both of you right then, but no part of him was complaining. Strangely, being around you had calmed his chest and there was no cough that radiated from within. He followed after you before watching you carefully, noticing you wipe the remaining tears that had stained your cheeks.

    “I… I get anxiety attacks around my exams. I feel like I’m never good enough. No matter how hard I work, how much effort I put it… It’s all…” You bit your lip to stop it from shaking, “…I’m not going to stop, though. I won’t stop. I want to be a doctor. That’s all I’ve ever wanted. I’m going to do this. I have to.”

    “Why does your father know the boss?”

    You stilled for just a moment before continuing with making tea. You pulled out two cups, one for him and one for you, and despite not knowing him enough, the silence that he so well carried with himself was strong and special. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, an eerie thing to feel so loudly, and during every third breath, Akutagawa felt breathless.

    “My father was an assassin,” You said, “Gave up that line of work and became a drug kingpin here. Ever since I was a child, I’ve been told I was useless if I didn’t do as he told me to. I did everything. I… everything.”

    Akutagawa’s eyes widened. He watched you as you effortlessly made tea and poured it into his cup. A small dash of honey, and chamomile tea bags, and a kitchen where the aroma was enough to intoxicate a blind person. He had never imagined drinking a tea like this and yet, no part of him complained.

    “You killed people.”

    You looked barely 20 years old. So that could only mean you were a child assassin. After all, it was an easier profession for children.

    “No one expects a child to kill, especially if she’s smiling.” You smiled sweetly, yet the callous expression in your eyes never faded.

    You turned to him a second later before Akutagawa coughed into his hands, multiple petals falling into his fist and then to the floor. You froze as you realized what this was, your hands flying to his now bloody wrist. He caught the bruise he had given you the other day and made no attempt to stop you. You opened his palm and found more lilac petals, covered in phlegm and blood and you stared. Akutagawa didn’t understand what your look meant but waited nonetheless. When you looked up to meet his gaze, he could swear that the callousness in your eyes was slowly fading.

    “Akutagawa-san…” Your voice was a whisper, “This is the hanahaki disease.”

    “What is it?” His voice was coarse, again from the intense coughing.

    “It’s… It’s a sign you’re in love with someone who doesn’t feel the same for you.”

    “Love?” His eyes widened as he repeated the preposterous word, “L-Love, you say?”

    He pulled his hand away from you, letting the bloody petals fall to the floor. You looked at him pleadingly before he coughed some more, slapping the tea from the counter and spilling it everywhere.

    “What a useless emotion!” He screamed, “Love!? That’s what’s gotten me weaker?!”

    “Does it anger you that you can love?”

    He clicked his tongue before pushing you away, wondering what in the world he was even doing there in the first place. He had gotten to know who you were, he had gotten to know what your deal was and yet—every part of him wanted more. It was quiet desperation that he couldn’t quite understand or grasp to his fullest capabilities, and this inadequacy left him aching on the inside. You stared at him before pursing your lips, what more could you tell someone who refused to believe that no one could be broken enough to not love?

    “Your anger and emotional outbursts usually result when someone penetrates to the core of what you don’t like about yourself or still cannot accept.”

    “Get rid of it,” Akutagawa threatened, “Get rid of this… this thing!”

    You wondered if he knew what he was talking about. Did he even know where these emotions came from? Did he even know why he was feeling this way? Had he ever acknowledge that he could feel love for another person? You slowly got up from where you were pushed to and let out a shaky breath.

    “Akutagawa-san…” You began, “There is a way to remove it.”

    “Good. What is it?”

    “The person has to love you back.”

    “How useless—“

    You threw yourself at the man before noticing him turn fiercely rigid. While it was miraculous that he didn’t outright push you away, it was also a tad bit disappointing that he stood as if was waiting for it to be done. The first time you saw Akutagawa’s face, you had seen that he was someone who was constantly running. Either from his past, from his pain, or toward a goal he would never reach, Akutagawa’s journey revolved around his own imperfection. It was a desire that dug so deeply into you that it gave you every right to see yourself in them. After all, you had broken off such ties after your father’s demise. Yet, no part of you, physical or otherwise, had forgotten what killing had done to you. It had robbed you from a chance to live a regular life, and here was another person, going through the very same thing.

    However, to see that he had developed a disease that proved limerence in such a deep context could only mean that there was still hope left for you as well. After all, it was the deeply broken that knew how to love best. For they knew what was constantly at stake, and they know the pain of devastating loss. Pulling back, you made a vow to yourself. If you eventually did become a doctor, if you eventually did end up saving more lives than you had ended in the past, it must and should begin with Akutagawa. Because only then could you truly save yourself.

    “I’ll help you,” You said, earnestly, “I’ll make it happen.”

    Kindness, as worthless as he believed it was, did not assist in making someone stronger. It never worked with him, it never persuaded him as much as hate and pain did, yet, there was something to intoxicating about kindness that made him crave for more. As he looked into your eyes, Akutagawa saw a radiance he had only dreamt of seeing before; a radiance he had grown to believe did not exist in the world, a radiance he had attempted to protect in the past. Inching closer, Akutagawa felt the constricting in his chest increase as he closed the distance between you and him, yet, he paused. He couldn’t move a step further. You smiled a second later before holding his hands, bloody and messy, it didn’t look like you cared.

    “So, who is this person?”

*

The next time Akutagawa saw you, he wasn’t expecting to see you. A careless slip in a battle deemed him worthy of a strong injury; he was distracted by the lilacs he had been coughing out and didn’t see an incoming blow, which scraped him at his left hip—missing the bone. While he knew he could allow Higuchi to help him, every part of him ached for you. Pushing aside Higuchi, he got into the streets walking toward your apartment. He remembered the way as if it were the back of his hand, and it led him to you, painstakingly. He wanted to move faster, he wanted to see your face despite knowing that the injury wouldn’t necessarily kill him. After all, you had said you’d help him.

   The person has to love you back, you had said; and how ironic that was. Akutagawa went chasing after people who would constantly deem him inadequate; he would never be enough, and that was what this disease was telling him. It was practically ending his life because he would never be enough—and what more proof would he need? Every inch of his body craved for another and yet, the other person knew nothing of his growing limerence. It was killing him and yet, there was nothing that could save him except his own demise. What an ironic way to die, he thought, as he reached your door. You had fixed it the day after he had broken it down, and ever since, he believed that reaching you would require him to use a softer approach. Soft like your skin—the very same skin he had bruised the first time he had touched it.

    You opened the door and your eyes instantly widened; Akutagawa took one step further, but your arms wrapped around him before pulling him to your chest, his chin landing on your shoulder, your hands wrapped around his back. You could feel his heavy heartbeat before dragging him to your bed. Just as you were about to remove his jacket, he stopped you—not allowing you to touch it.

    “I…” His raspy voice scared you, “I… don’t want to hurt you.”

    “How would you—“

    He didn’t let you finish and simply removed the jacket himself, before laying on the bed; you carefully placed the jacket around the chair and got to work on Akutagawa. You carefully removed the shirt that was stained with his blood before bringing in all the required materials needed to clean his wound first. You didn’t hear a wince from him the entire time, knowing full well that it would sting him beyond belief. It was as if he was used to the pain, and wasn’t moving because somehow this pain had been familiarised. You felt your heart go out for him, but your hands continued working on his wounds. You sat beside him to his left, where the wound was, and continued dressing the large gash, before momentarily feeling his right arm grasp your wrist. You looked up to find Akutagawa staring into your eyes, some sort of pleading look embedded in them.

    “Does it hurt?”

    He shook his head before freeing you, and it was then you realized how soft his touch actually was. Unlike the last time when he had bruised your wrist, Akutagawa’s touch was almost feather like; they say soft feathers cannot make a cruel bird kind, but Akutagawa had led his entire life believing he was nothing but cruel and it took him one touch, just one touch at your wrist to learn that he wasn’t. He wasn’t sure if it was the wound that was making him think this way or if he was finally seeing things clearly, but the view he had by sitting right beside you, gazing into your form as you cleaned his wound, was the only thing he believed he’d want to see for the rest of his life. Dazai’s approval meant squat if it meant being able to sit beside you in absolute silence; if life allowed him to meet you, learn of your existence and perfection, then there was some redeeming quality in him that gave him the right to be sitting by you.

    “Doesn’t hurt.” He said, truthfully, before feeling the urge to want to touch you more. He wanted to be touched by you, and hopefully, he wouldn’t push you away as he had before. He wanted nothing more than to be gentle, feel your hair between the pads of his fingers, watch you as you studied, wrap you in his arms gently if he ever saw you crying again—Akutagawa wanted to wholeheartedly detach his anger whenever you were around and it was your existence that gave him the confidence that it was possible.

    “I…” You said, “I don’t know your full name.”

    “Akutagawa Ryunosuke.”

    You gulped before pursing your lips.

    “Is it okay if I call you Ryuu?” He blinked at you, “L-Like when we’re alone! I mean… I’m not saying I don’t like your name, I… just… well, you can call me (y/n), if you’d like! I just… I think… I like—“

    “Do as you wish.”

    You smiled a bit before taking the bandages in your hands. With the sound of your heart pounding the way it was, Akutagawa didn’t realize that it had been roughly 2 hours since he had last coughed out flowers. Perhaps, the pace with which it slowed meant something. Perhaps, it didn’t. He wouldn’t be able to tell for a while at least.

*

On odd days, Akutagawa found that his cough was getting better; a sign that presented him with an emotion he once believed was dead in him—hope. He remembered your words loud and clear that this disease called for the person he was in love with return his emotions for him to stop dying. However, the cough didn’t entirely stop. During nights when he missed your presence greatly, Akutagawa’s coughs were enhanced—lilacs poured out of his chest like a clogged waterfall let free, and his eyes stung with the intensity with which he remained a trembling mess of a person he thought he was. Despite learning to accept his emotions for you, on nights like these, Akutagawa was reminded of how weak he truly was, of Dazai’s harsh words for him that were imprinted in his very soul, of how inadequate he felt to even earn a disease such as this. When his hands shook, he felt the fear of dying—not of losing his life, but of never being able to see you again. And thoughts like this left him skirmish, it left him aching for his past-self, where he had never met you, where he wouldn’t have had to face such a metamorphosis that ridiculed him in such a manner.

    Akutagawa was not used to hoping for love, he was only, in every right, a giver. He chased after everything he thought he deserved, yet never realized that chasing it was never the right way for him to attain it. On nights like these, where he begged for a power that would rid him of his emotions for you, he’d wake up regretting those very words for the prospect of being able to see you, protect you, stay by your side and earn your precious silence. Some part of him always yearned for something that enveloped him not in a sense of passion but a calm care. Akutagawa needed someone he could rely on to not always expect him to perform or achieve some standard. Someone who saw how quiet he was and respected it. Not that no one ever had, Gin had always admired his tenacity and intrinsically quiet nature. It was the expectation that his life now put on him that broke him, more than just a little.

    The next day poured onto him excruciating pain. His chest and throat burned, and he could barely open his eyes. His sister who was living with him knew that his coughing had reached a dangerous point, yet she knew that meddling with his affairs would infuriate him more. Yet, the worry seeped out of her and she forced herself to barge into his quarters and at least ask him what she could do. It wasn’t like him to take a day off from work, but in his current state, even standing up could be a challenge.

    “Nii-san,” She voiced, “Is there something I can do? Someone I can bring who can take a look at—“

    “No. Get out.”

    Gin pursed her lips before walking away quietly, recalling with everything she had if there was someone she had seen her brother speak to who could help. She contemplated calling Chuuya, or anyone else from the Black Lizard, but involving the Mafia would only anger her brother in more ways than one. Taking in a deep breath, she found herself walking toward her favorite cafe, wanting to bring back some tea for her brother—the tea she knew he enjoyed. Calming chamomile tea always soothed him, rid his anxieties, which might even assist in his coughs. While she had no idea the origin behind those coughs, she knew they were different from the regular tickle in his throat.

    On reaching the cafe, she felt a mild tap on her shoulder, which she knew must have alerted her beyond belief, but the person whose eyes she landed on caused Gin to blink with confusion. She had seen you before, but she couldn’t understand where. You looked at her with an awkward expression, a quiet sort of worry seeping out of your bones.

    “I… I know you’re acquainted with Akutagawa-san? I was… Well, I wanted to know how he’s doing?”

    Gin’s eyes widened. Were you a friend of her brother’s? Not that she wasn’t surprised with her brother having a friend in the first place, especially that friend being a regular girl like you. She contemplated letting you know that her brother’s condition was deteriorating at a quicker pace than she had ever thought, but wondered if it was the right thing to do. What would Ryuunosuke want her to do? What would she do? Pausing for just a moment, Gin realized she was thinking too hard. She’d now do what any sister would.

    “He’s not doing so well,” She spoke honestly, “If… If you can come take a look, I think he’d appreciate it.”

    When your eyes widened with horror, Gin knew she may have done the right thing. You bit your lip and nodded, before following her out of the cafe; she led you to their shared apartment before also slipping in that she was his sister and not anyone you’d have to think too hard over. You blushed when Gin made it clear but refused to speak about it. Once inside, Gin nodded before leaving to work, knowing full well that her presence was no longer required. You jumped when you heard violent coughing coming in from a room with a closed door, and you slowly approached it, your heart pounding rapidly; however, just when you could feel your heartbeat in your ears, blinding you and depriving you of focusing on any other senses, your hands stilled before they could reach the doorknob. Sudden silence enveloped the room, and it slowly made sense to you on what was going on. With the way he was avoiding you these few days, with the way how he suddenly turned soft toward you, with the way Akutagawa helped you—your mind spat at you for never seeing it before. Tears filled your eyes before you realized that his disease was your fault, in almost every possible way, and instead of blaming you, he was taking it on himself.

    “Ryuu?”

    Akutagawa froze on the bed where he lay before staring at the ceiling. With the rapidity of his growing coughs, he was almost sure that you would never return his affections; he didn’t even want affection, in the first place. What Akutagawa wanted and needed never intersected, they were parallels that would never meet, yet somehow you were now standing opposite his door, calling him by a name no one would dare call him by.

    And the strangest thing of all, he let you.

    “What are you doing here?” Violent coughs only made his voice sound weaker than he felt, and he hated every second of it.

    “Can I come inside?”

    “How did you get here?” He sounded angry now, almost raging.

    “Please,” His heart ached when you pleaded. He’d give you anything in a heartbeat, but he couldn’t understand why this was so hard, “I want to see you.”

    His eyes widened. You wanted to see him? While it didn’t make sense, no reply from him gave you the assurance you needed to enter the room he was in, and the second his eyes fell on your form, Akutagawa felt breathless. He couldn't take his gaze from you. Your wide, wondering eyes were like soft midnight, star-glittered with forgotten tears. The curves of your body looked firm and sweet, nothing but inviting, sensual softness. If you were his... he might finally have the sense of ease other men had. No more spending every minute of the day striving and hungering and never feeling sated. But, was that even possible?

    “The hanahaki disease,” You began, standing a few feet away from him, “It’s when you love a person who doesn’t feel the same,” He could hear your voice tremble, and he felt like scum for letting it get here, “I’m not sure entirely but…”

    If Akutagawa could place together pieces of why he was aggravated by your very presence, it wouldn’t have led him to where he currently was. Avoiding your gaze coughs multiplied by numerous ramifications, hands shaking, forehead breaking out into a sweat—he had never felt more obscenely weak than sitting before you on his bed, having your keen gaze observe his frail body. Numbness coursed through his veins and never before had he wished to disappear more than right then; it was suffocating to sit in front of you while you wordlessly judged him, deemed him moronic in that pretty little head of yours. He stilled momentarily before slapping himself internally; you were no such person. You wouldn’t judge another. The entire reason for his predicament right then was simply because of how perfect you were.

    And no perfect human being would dare judge another. Especially not someone as broken as he.

    “Is it…” You sounded so defeated, he’d have done anything to hear your giggles and laughter once again, but life wasn’t as giving to him. It had never been. “Is that person… me?”

    A fool’s curse, he had deemed it—love was nothing but just that. He was a dark, damaged individual with a past that deemed him unworthy of your gaze, of your silence, of your soft fingers grazing his hair in dreams that felt forbidden to even wake from; Akutagawa wondered why it was that he even fell for you, in such a short duration of time, with limited interaction, with wordless conversations. And yet, the answer hit him. He didn’t need much from you, only a smile. A smile from your callous eyes, eyes that were like how his once were; and when he was someone who couldn’t smile the way you did, you had won over life in a way he never had. This sight—this very sight of your victory over a life that had deemed you unworthy, captured his heart. In you, Akutagawa saw every single desire that he had locked away, that he had deemed irrational and asinine. And you wore the irrational and asinine parts with pride.

    When he didn’t answer, the answer came to you. Tears leaked down your eyes as you reached forward and combed his hair, feeling him tense under your touch. Akutagawa wasn’t touch-starved, he didn’t starve for something he had no idea about. Yet, when your fingers skimmed through his hair, the need to breathe followed quickly after. He shut his eyes and leaned into your touch almost instinctively, before feeling you wrap your other hand around his neck and pull his head to your chest. You stood beside him as he sat on his bed, his head resting on the valley of your breasts. Your hold tightened and Akutagawa felt like he could die right then and there would be no regrets.

    “Ryuu…” You cooed, rubbing your hands in his hair. You smelt divine, almost intoxicating and he wondered if opening his eyes would have you disappear. You pressed your chin to the top of his head and he felt so ridiculous, he wondered if he should push you away or pull you closer. You answered his question by bringing yourself closer anyway, pressing your nose to his hair.

    “I’m so sorry,” You said, tears leaking out of your eyes. “I love you! I do! I love you so much!”

    Akutagawa’s eyes widened, before he turned, only to be pressed into your chest more. He calmly lifted one of his hands, touched your arm and pushed you away slightly, and noticed your drenched face. He looked at you like you were a fool, before shaking his head.

    “You said I’ll stop coughing once the person I—“

    “Yeah—“

    “I haven’t stopped coughing.” He said, eyeing you like you were a liar.

    You shook your head before throwing your hands softly against either of his cheeks; you could see them turning red, but you didn’t mind.

    “That was because you truly believed I couldn’t return your feelings, Ryuu. How will your disease know I love you if you don’t believe it first?”

    Was it truly that simple? It marveled him at how much of a moron you were, feeling love for a murderer like himself, but you were crying for him—you were miraculously here in his apartment, holding him like your life was dependent on it. He was no fool, and he never really pushed aside what his eyes were seeing, so while he was slowly becoming aware that you returned his feelings, he wanted to scold you for the dumbest choice you had ever made. Yet, instead of doing any of that, Akutagawa Ryuunosuke did something else that took your breath away.

    Reaching forward, he grazed the pads of his fingers across your cheek, wiping a stray tear that threatened to fall lower, and he tried smiling. Callous eyes and a hopeful smile—the only thing that got him to fall for you, Akutagawa now tried his best to return it, knowing full well he owed you at least that much. Your eyes widened at the sight he presented you with before you placed a shaky hand on his that was on your cheek. Leaning into his touch, you wondered if two broken people could ever love, yet, with the way he was smiling right then, you would be damned if you came close to calling him broken.

    Leaning forward, boldly, you placed a kiss on his head, causing his eyes to turn to saucers with the unfamiliar action. You felt him tense up once again, and you held him close despite that, knowing full well that whatever was foreign to him wasn’t essentially bad, all you had to do was familiarise Akutagawa to love and he would learn to accept it better. Looking up, he pulled you down from the back of your neck and pressed his lips to yours—you could feel how dry they were, yet, that didn’t stop you from kissing him back. You could feel his hands tremble with the way he was holding you, not used to pressing softly, yet hard at the same time. When Akutagawa pulled apart from you a few moments later, it felt as if he was breathing for the first time. You allowed yourself to sit beside him now, enveloping the silence around you as if it were a comforting blanket. He looked at you so gently, slipping his arm around you and stroking your hair with a movement so soft you wondered if he realized he was doing it. He was capable of such softness that it presented as a strength instead of what he truly believed it was.

*

Nakahara Chuuya often finds himself in strange wine stores, looking for the wine he knew he could spend money on, wine more expensive than the one he had bought previously, keeping up with a mental game with himself. Walking out of the store, he spotted you—someone he believed he’d never see again, wearing a sundress and hair done up in a complicated plait that had you looking cute if he were being honest. He shook his head before focusing on getting home and drinking to some food, but just as he turned away, he turned back to you with wide eyes, almost dropping the wine he had bought, but he was glad he had his ability to prevent that from happening.

    What the f*ck? Chuuya thought when he saw Akutagawa slip his hand in yours, in a movement so casual that it seemed almost out of character for a rapid dog to act like a Labrador in love. You smiled at Akutagawa who returned half of it before Chuuya wounded if he was looking at Akutagawa at all in the first place. A moment later, he noticed the man slip his arm around your waist before leading you away from the area, in such a nonchalant yet casual manner that it left bewildered Chuuya to just stand there with his mouth ajar and heart raging. How the f*ck does that runt have a lover? Chuuya’s thoughts weren’t jealous, or even close, but it was a pure shock that left him jaw-dropped.

Well, whatever, he thought, before heading home, reminded thanks to Akutagawa and his new girlfriend that Chuuya was to drink alone that night. Again.

[petri808]

N4+Inukag Ex’s Still in Love @liz8080 its angst 🙃

It had been a year since the break up, but Inuyasha was no closer to moving on and according to his best friend, neither was Kagome. He only knew what his ex was going through because their best friends were caught in the middle and providing updates. Poor Miroku and Sango, Inuyasha was sure they thought he and Kagome were idiots by this point.

Not that it was from a lack of trying, because they both were trying... maybe a little too hard to start dating again. Inuyasha had tried the typical avenues like bar hopping and even posting a profile on dating sites. But if irony wasn’t such a bitch, every single site he tried would match him to none other than Kagome Higurashi. It was fate, Miroku would coax the idea onto his friend. Yeah, well fate didn’t have to deal with reality and they were two stubborn fools unwilling to relent.

At the bars, Inuyasha’s handsome hanyo looks gained a lot of attention and the night would always start off right. Every single woman in the place took a chance to talk to him. If he liked what he saw, he’d give them a shot to butter him up, lulling them in with his molten amber eyes. Flirty conversations and flowing alcohol made for... women making excuses and leaving him to walk out single. Every. Damn. Time. Because something always sparked his ex’s introduction to the conversation. It turned out once Inuyasha was past the tipsy stage, all he wanted to do was talk about Kagome. Good or bad. It didn’t matter and according to Miroku during one very drunken evening, he’d even cried. If it wasn’t for the blackmail video, he wouldn’t have believed it.

Okay fine! So he still loved the woman! They’d been together for seven years, that’s not something you just get over quickly! She wanted kids and he was hesitant... it wasn’t a no, but it wasn’t a yes. That’s when Kagome broke up with him.

Inuyasha swirled the drink in his hand with a low growl. “You know our world isn’t always safe,” he admonished his co-worker, a fellow Yokai named Kouga. “And she’s human, the child could be born human, and what if I can’t protect them both?”

“Stupid,” the Wolf yokai sneered back. “You’d lose the woman you love over fear? The Taisho’s son showing weakness, that’s pathetic.”

“Bite your tongue wolf. It’s not just about fear and you know it.”

“Yes, it is.” Kouga countered. “Modern times or not, that woman has spiritual blood coursing through her veins, so an offspring will most likely be a full hanyo. I suspect Kagome senses this, so it is your own fears that’s overruling you.”

“Tch, I didn’t come here for a lecture!” Inuyasha stood up from his bar stool. But as he turned to leave, his phone rang.

It was Miroku. “Something happened Inuyasha. Kagome was attacked on her way home by a yokai. No one knows who. She’s been taken to Shinkon Medical and she’s... in a coma.”

“What?!”

“It’s really bad, you should get here as soon as possible.”

Inuyasha doesn’t respond and quickly rushed out of the bar with Kouga hot on his heels.

“What’s going on?!” Kouga questioned.

“Something attacked Kagome.”

“Oh, fuck.” Kouga could see Inuyasha’s demon side manifesting, purple stripes along his cheeks and red eyes replacing gold. It must be serious.

When they arrived at the hospital, Miroku took them up to the room Kagome was in. Not that Inuyasha needed his help to track the woman’s scent, but thanks to Kouga’s steadfast hand in his shoulder, he stayed cognizant enough to follow quietly so as to not scare the staff. Sango stood just outside of the door ready for their arrival.

“Brace yourself Inu,” the woman warned, “she’s... it’s a miracle she’s still alive.”

He simply nodded shakily and walked through, leaving his friends to wait. There really was no way to brace himself for what he saw. Kagome was almost unrecognizable. She had tubes and wires hooked up to beeping machines that flashed her life on a screen. It was an unnerving sound in an otherwise deadly silent room. Her arms were all bandaged up, one leg in a cast with pins and metal sticking out, but her head... his fists clenched tighter. Her forehead was wrapped in gauze, face bruised and swollen, her nose and mouth with tubes coming out of them to keep her alive. Even in the dim lighting, he could see the blood, smelled the dried blood stuck in her hair.

It was his nightmares turned reality.

That’s when he smelt it, the lingering stench of a familiar panther yokai left on Kagome’s body. Had this been a targeted attack? Anger surged to the forefront. Inuyasha leaned down and took her hand gently while placing a soft kiss on her forehead. Regardless of reason, this yokai would pay dearly!

Inuyasha growled and sped off faster then any of his stunned friends could stop him, out of the hospital. Kouga called from behind in pursuit, but his demon side had taken over and nothing could stop him. He leapt over buildings, speeding through alleyways before humans could even register what had passed them by. There was no way to know exactly where the rogue could be, but he had a territory to start in.

The panther yokai had always hated the inu’s reign over the central part of Japan. They fought and lost an epic battle during the edo period, forever retaining a grudge. But this was a brazen attack, the first since those long ago days, and on a human?! It was unforgivable. It was because of the inu’s control that the human world was safe from the yokai inhabiting it. Most of the other’s, like Kouga’s wolf clan fell in line without any problems, and peace remained. Oh, this panther will pay dearly for trying to kill the chosen mate of the Inu no Taisho’s son!! This wasn’t the first time the two men will clash, but it will be the last.

From a rooftop, Inuyasha perched as he quickly scanned the dock area. The yokai was alone. Perfect. With a deep roar, he dropped down on top of the male before it could take off. Claws and fangs unhinged as the two males battled. Despite being a hanyo, Inuyasha’s blood was no different than a full-blooded yokai, and worse, his adrenaline and anger was without remorse due to the bloodied images of his girl lying in a hospital bed to fuel his rage. If there were any humans in this desolate part of town at night, it must have sounded like the unholy blood bath it was.

Over and over, Inuyasha tore his claws and teeth into the panther yokai’s flesh. Though he sustained some injuries of his own, Inuyasha felt nothing but the pure hatred coursing through his veins. Kouga had finally arrived as well, his screams to his friend to stop, deaf in his ears. His blood lust had taken control.

“Stop!!” Kouga roared and jumped onto Inuyasha’s back. He hooked his arms around both of his friends shoulders, lifting, and wrapping his hands behind the man’s head to restrain them from moving freely. Inuyasha thrashed hard against the hold, but Kouga refused to let go, continuously growling at the man to stop resisting. “You’re gonna kill him!”

“He deserves it!” Inuyasha countered.

“Agreed! But that’s not for you to decide my friend, so stop! He’s done!”

“Let me go Kouga!”

“Only if you’ll stop resisting. Think about Kagome, idiot! I’ll take the panther to your father for punishment, you need to get back to her!”

At hearing Kagome’s name, the human side of Inuyasha began taking back control from his inner demon. Kouga was right. If they were caught like this by authorities, being thrown in jail for murder would do her no good. Inuyasha let out a long exhale as his body slowly transformed back to normal, and he slumped in his friends arms. “You’re right.”

“I know I am, idiot.” Kouga let him go. “Now get out of here, and make sure you clean up! You don’t wanna scare the hospital people to death!”

“Yeah, yeah,” the hanyo growled, though he appreciated his friends help. “Tell my dad what’s going on and I’ll contact him as soon as I can.”

“Will do.”

It didn’t take him long to get back to his own house to clean up, and it was only then did Inuyasha realize just how far he’d gone that night. What little of his clothes was left undamaged was soaked in the blood of the panther yokai. He threw it all away and showered the filth from his body, then bandaged his wounds as best he could. By morning they’ll probably be healed, but with the adrenaline gone, the pain had also kicked in. He’d still do it all again in a heartbeat.

When he shambled back to the hospital, of course Miroku and Sango were concerned with his appearance. He assuaged their worries before flopping painfully into a chair at Kagome’s bedside.

“The doctors say she has stabled,” Sango explained now that he had time to listen. “But the shock has left her in a coma, so now we can only wait for her to wake up...” the woman paused, “there’s a small chance, Kagome may never wake up.”

Inuyasha shook his head refusing to entertain such a suggestion. “She’s strong, I know she will,” he spoke even though inside he wasn’t so sure. He just needed to hear those words of reassurance.

“You’re right.” Sango agreed. “We think so too.”

“Hang in there.” Miroku patted the hanyo’s shoulder. “We’ll be back in the morning to check on you.”

“Thanks,” Inuyasha nodded weakly.

Now that he was there, the couple left him alone, safe in the knowledge that no one would bother Kagome anymore. So, at the sound of the door closing behind him, the full weight of emotions engulfed Inuyasha. The guilt tore away at what little sanity held him together. He blamed himself for her state. If he hadn’t been so stupid and stubborn to leave her alone, that panther would never have dared to strike at Kagome. She was strong, but couldn’t have fended off a surprise attack by herself.

“I’m so sorry,” the tears broke free as he held her hand tightly in his own. “Please don’t leave me, Kagome. I’ll do anything! You want kids? I’ll give you all the pups you desire, just please come back to me. I can’t— I can’t lose you. It shouldn’t have taken something like this to make me realize that I’m nothing without you.”

Inuyasha thought the pain of losing his mother at a young age was hard, but this was a thousand times worse. His soul was bonded to Kagome by choice and his heart felt shattered at the thought of never hearing her voice again. If she died, a piece of him would die along with her.

Night turned to day, and days passed by with little to no change in Kagome’s condition. Inuyasha rarely left her side, except to take care of bodily functions or shower at the behest of friends and staff. Her family, his family, and their friends visited, but at night it was just her and him alone between the stale white walls of the hospital room. For two weeks, Inuyasha didn’t get a full night sleep. Exhaustion forced him to pass out at times, only to be awaken by nightmares. To suffer along side Kagome was his penitence as far he believed.

He clung to the smallest of improvements. By week three, all the bruising and abrasions were healing well, and Kagome was taken off of the breathing tubes since she was doing it on her own. She was still fed intravenously with a high protein diet to give her body the fuel it needed to mend. To pass the time, Inuyasha would talk to her about everything and nothing, sometimes telling her stories of ancient tales, or just reading the newspaper aloud. The doctors had told him coma patients can sometimes hear them talking, so it was worth a shot.

“It’s crazy right?” Inuyasha chuckled if only to keep his sanity intact. “I’d give anything to hear you yell at me right now.” He sighed. “Just call me an idiot, because I deserve it.”

“You’re not... an idiot.”

Inuyasha sat up stunned at the beautiful sound of Kagome voice. It was soft and raspy, but music to his ears nonetheless. He squeezed her hand. “Yes, I am,” he smiled. “But it’s okay, as long as I still have you— if you’ll still have... me? I’ll give you what ever you want, Kagome. Kids, anything, just please stay with me. I love you too much to let you go again.”

This time it was Kagome who squeezed his hand weakly. “I love you too, you big idiot.”

Inuyasha leaned over and kissed her forehead. “Now there’s the woman I fell in love with.” Everything was gonna be just fine...

The banner is for my AO3

[stxrrywildflower]

hypothermia

pairing - spencer reid x reader

summary - you and derek go to extreme lengths to save a victim

warnings - injury, mentions of case, cursing

word count - ?

cold.

all you felt was cold.

you could barely remember where you were or what had happened.

your senses felt frozen.

all you could manage to do was shut your eyes.

___

the team arrived in portland, oregon a few days prior.

it was march, meaning the temperatures barely passed the the mid-fifties at the high, and dropped extremely low during the night. even snow fell on the ground as you landed, resulting in everyone on the team adding an extra layer or two.

the unsub was killing women and disposing of their bodies on the streets lining the beaches. it was becoming extremely difficult to narrow the suspect pool down, due to the large population.

hotch ordered you and spencer to go to the morgue and look at the previous victims to find out what you could.

“he must have some sort of emotional tie to to the ocean. it would explain why the unsub chooses that location,” spencer spoke from the passenger seat.

you nodded, “possible grew up on the coast or maybe even lost someone to drowning.”

upon arrival at the morgue, the two of you made your way inside. you both greeted the coroner before grabbing gloves. as you moved around the victims bodies, spencer talked to the man about what he could figure out.

“they’re not drowned. there’s a puncture wound in her foot, probobly died from a heart attack,” you concluded.

with that, you and spencer returned to the police station to alert your team about what you had discovered. while walking towards the doors, the wind picked up causing you to hug your jacket a little tighter. spencer pulled you closer to him to keep you warm.

the next four days were agonizingly slow. another body had been found, but it had the exact same marks as the others with nothing different. if anything, it slowed your investigation down rather than help you.

the team worked long hours, desperate to find a lead. and finally, after those four days, they found one.

hotch sent you and morgan to investigate the suspects house that night. it was dark and very cold. upon arrival, you found it was empty. but with further investigation, you two concluded that this defiantly was your guy.

pictures and articles on these women were pinned on the walls as well as an article about a little boy drowning in a riptide a month or so ago.

“stresser,” you informed morgan.

as you two were walking out of the house, a red car sped out of the garage of the house and down the road. you managed to catch a glimpse of the driver and passenger; it was the unsub and his current victim. thankfully, she was alive.

morgan jumped into the drivers seat as you got into the passengers seat. he sped off, following the car the best he could. at one point, due to the darkness and wind, you lost the car.

however, a few moments later, after driving around, you saw the red care carelessly parked on the side of the road. the unsub was dragging the girl, who was gagged and tied at her wrists and ankles, towards the end of the pier.

“unsub located, he has a girl with him. location is the pier just off of south street,” you spoke into your communication system.

you and morgan slowly stepped out of the car and took a step towards the unsub who had a sly grin on his face. he held an automatic rifle which was pointed at the girls head.

“morgan she has weights on her,” you informed your fellow agent.

“you don’t have to do this man!” morgan shouted, “just let the girl go. we can tell the judge you cooperated. let her go.”

the next moments happened all so quickly. the unsub pushed the girl off of the pier into the water. due to the weights attached, she slowly began to sink to the bottom. the man then pointed his gun at morgan. you fired a shot, killing him instantly. you and derek shared a quick look before taking off sprinting off of the pier and diving into the water.

the team arrived just in time to see you and morgan go under. rossi and emily went over to the unsub, checking his pulse before concluding him to be dead. the rest of the team stayed on the beach, narrowing their eyes at the water, no sign of you or morgan anywhere.

after hitting the water, your entire body tensed up. the water couldn’t have been more than 35-40 degrees. you managed to pry your eyes open, just enough to see the light from derek’s flashlight.

the water was pitch black and you needed to find the girl. you were both loosing oxygen quickly and no doubt the victim was too.

after then more seconds of desperately searching, you saw the woman floating towards the bottom of the water. as quickly as you could, you grabbed your pocket knife and sliced the ropes. the process was painfully slow, and with each moment, you felt yourself in more and more pain.

finally, the ropes fell and you took one arm while derek took the other. after pushing off the ocean floor, you made it to the surface, gasping for air. you used your spare hand to push back your hair as you frantically looked around.

in the distance, you could make out your team as well as the police standing on the beach. your whole body was shaking as you couldn’t believe how far out you were. slowly but surely, you began to swim towards the mainland.

in your mind, the process seemed to take forever. your boots finally made contact with the sand, allowing for you to stand up. you and morgan hauled the victim onto the sand where the emt’s were waiting.

you and derek, however, seemed locked in place, still standing waist deep in painfully cold water. spencer was helping the emt’s after orders from hotch but looked over when he heard a large splash. his head turned just in time to witness morgan collapsing, just after you went down. thankfully, emily and hotch were there to catch you both.

“w-who are you. where a-am i,” you spoke shakily, mind incredibly fuzzy.

the pain began to increase throughout your body, but it seemed to attack your head the most. after your legs went out, your arms were next. they were holding emily’s arms but then dropped. your head rolled to the side. upon looking at hotch, derek was having the same results.

“medics!” hotch shouted.

“hey y/n, i need you to stay awake. keep those eyes open. come on y/n, please,” the woman who you couldn’t quite remember in front of you pleaded. the next few moments were a blur as you couldn’t follow her demands and instead shut your eyes.

once the second wave of emt’s arrived, you and morgan were quickly loaded onto stretcher’s and rushed to the hospital. the team stood on the beach, still processing what happened. hotch and emily were starting to feel a little sick from entering the water to help their team.

“i know we all want to get to the hospital but it’s already late. everyone go back to the hotel and get changed and we can go to the hospital afterwards,” hotch spoke to his team.

as everyone began to walk back to to the car, spencer stopped, tapping his hands against his leg as he looked at the ocean. j.j. noticed this and made her way over, placing her hand softly on his shoulder.

“talk to me,” j.j. spoke with a calm tone.

“hypothermia is one of the most dangerous medical conditions out there. your body literally shuts down after being in the water for only a few minutes. but y/n and morgan were in the water for a long time. i’m just so worried,” spencer struggled to get out.

for a genius who knew so much, he had run out of things to say.

“spence, the doctors are going to do everything in their power to help them. you have every right to be worried. derek is your best friend, besides me of course,” j.j. joked, causing spence to smile slightly, “and to state the obvious, you’re so in love with y/n. you two have known each other for practically forever and she’s your girlfriend, of course you’re going to be worried. but for now, all we can do is go back to the hotel and then the hospital.”

he nodded slightly before allowing j.j. to lead him to the car and to the hotel.

spencer changed into a comfortable button up with a sweater overtop before meeting the team back in the lobby. everyone made sure to bundle up, especially after the situation with you and morgan, before they made their way to the hospital.

after using his status as an fbi agent for a little leverage, hotch managed to get the nurse to give them some information. you and morgan were currently in the icu but that’s all they received. the nurse permitted two members of the team to stay overnight while everyone could return the following morning. at that point, full medical information could be released.

spencer was as easy first choice. j.j. was nominated to be second. she was the closest with spencer and would be the best moral support. the team echoed their goodbyes to the two before promising to be there tomorrow morning right when opening hours started.

the two were led to an area where they could sit and rest for the night. it wasn’t outside of yours our derek’s room which wasn’t ideal, but spencer and j.j. accepted it. the two collapsed into the chairs, each pulling a blanket over themselves before slowly drifting to sleep.

the following morning, the team re-grouped in the waiting room of the hospital. surprisingly, spencer and j.j. had managed to get an actual good night of sleep.

“i can take you to agent y/n and morgan’s took where a doctor while then brief you,” the nurse told the group.

they were lead to a different floor and down the hallway. the nurse motioned for chairs to sit in while she went to go get the doctor later. a moment later, another women appeared in front of them, introducing herself.

“first of all, agent y/n and morgan will be okay,” the doctor spoke causing a relived sigh to echo through the hallway, “but, both have sustained serious injuries. hypothermia is the obvious one. y/n and derek were in the freezing water for an extremely long time causing their bodies to almost shut down completely. i’ve never seen two patients cases mirror each other but y/n and derek’s do. y/n’s heart stopped for a quick few seconds but quickly started beating again. moments later, derek’s stopped also. thankfully, both are hooked up to iv’s and are recovering nicely. the only problem is, it may take awhile for the two to wake up. they really should have died, and i am unsure how they’re still okay. without their selfless efforts, the woman who is now in recovery would be dead. so i wanted to thank your team for their actions.”

the team processed the doctors words. “can we see them?” emily asked. “yes of course, we put them both in one of the larger rooms. it’s room number 503, three doors down on the left,” with one more smile, the doctor then left.

entering the hospital room, the team paused. you both had thick blankets covering your bodies, a slight buzz sounding from the electric heater inside. spencer looked at you first. your lips were still a slight shade of blue and your fingertips had a few black marks on them. derek was the exact same.

spencer teared up at the sight of the two of you. he collapsed in a chair by your bedside first. he pressed his lips together and rubbed his temple. all the team could do was wait for you two to wake up.

a week later, at around 10pm, derek woke up. the room was dark and the hallway lights were dim, as it was past visiting hours. he went to sit up but his muscles were weak. it took a large effort to move his hand to the ‘call nurse’ button. after pressing it, he moved his head to the side where you were still laying. a few moments later, a nurse entered the room. “good to see you awake agent morgan, how are you feeling?”

“not great. what happened?” derek asked.

“you and agent y/n went into the freezing ocean to save one of the victims. luckily, she has since been released. for the two of you, your hearts both stopped momentarily as a side effect of the hypothermia. but, with lots of rest and recovery, you two should be fine.”

derek nodded to the nurses words before leanining back into the hospital bed.

at close to 4am, you woke up. you felt the same way as derek did but managed to move your head to the side. derek was sitting up, looking at some magazine the nurse must have given him.

“hey kid,” derek spoke softly.

you moved your hand up to your head. “remind me to not go swimming ever again during the winter,” you first spoke resulting in derek to laugh. soon after, a nurse came in, checking over you first before changing the iv’s. “your team should be here in a few hours, they’ve visited everyday,” the nurse told you with a smile.

true to her word, once visiting hours, you heard talking from outside of your room. the doors opened seconds later. spencer immediately rushed to your bedside, hugging you softly as you did your best to return it.

“you’re amazing,” spencer spoke before cupping your cheeks and kissing you softly.

the two of you stopped when morgan called over, “hey lover boy, no hello to me?” loud laughs echoed through the hospital room as relief washed over the team that you two were okay.

[atsunflower]

Rated: SFW

Author notes: fucking finally, I'd say. Sorry it took me so long to post it after I decided to revamp this series. Here goes my belated 300 special med student!Kuroo. Please note that this is written based on the med school model we have here, in wich we get the MD degree right away, without the pre-med division they have in USA.

PS: DAI¹ stands for diffuse axonal injury, a type of brain damage caused by violent shakes (acceleration/deceleration/shaken baby syndrome) of the head. No worries, banging your head against a hard surface isn't supposed to give you it. If you get confused by any medical terms, pls hmu!!

Warnings: me trying to be funny. Cursing (reader swears like a sailor here).

I – Lehninger principles of biochemistry

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Your head was throbbing. The professor's voice dragging through your ears made the discomfort you felt even bigger.

The first class of the day have barely started and you were already regretting leaving your bed.

You let out a shuddering breath while your fingers found their way to your temples. You massaged the area, trying to ease the headache.

"You look like shit" the voice came from your right. Shirabu gave you a sideways glance before going back to his notes. "Let me guess, your neighbor again?"

"Yeah, the bastard was up all the night. I still can hear his bed pounding into the wall and the girl trying to muffle her voice" You groaned.

"Ew. Gross" The blonde's face contorted in a grimace "Am I the only one weirded by the fact you never saw the guy?" He asked frowning.

"Hell, no. But I don't think I wanna meet him anytime soon." Your reply was earn; you wouldn't know how to react if you ever saw the said man. "Besides, the guy has this strange schedule. He leaves early in the morning and comes back late at night, it's kinda weird"

"Weird is the way you know him so well and never saw him before" You ignored your him and turned your attention back to the professor. Twenty minutes into the lecture, the door was open and a raven hair peaked from it, sitting on the desk available in the front row.

You mood automatically got worse just by the sight.

"You're staring" Shirabu's uninterested voice ringed in your ears again "Why don't you admit you have a thing for him already? It would make our lives a thousand times easier"

"I just dislike him. I can't stand that dumbass" You retorted grimacing while scribbling down in your notebook. God, you hated biochemistry.

"Yeah, keep repeating that and someday you'll believe it."

"Why you all keep saying it?" You winced at the high pitch of your whisper "The guy ain't special. He is an asshole, honestly"

"Deep down you only say it because he told you were 'just okay' in our first week of freshmen year" The male gave you a pointed look. "I know it's you just being petty, but it's pretty obvious you have a crush on him"

"Hell no, I'd rather have the whole Lehninger shoved down my throat" Your classmate scoffed by your side, resuming to his notes.

"By the looks Haruno-sensei is sending in our direction, it's going to happen anytime soon."

"For this term, you'll send me an essay about peptides with especial focus on physiologically active ones and their major role on human organism." The professor said, sending a stern glare though the class. "Pay attention to the next slide. It contains a table with the pairs I've assigned for this paper"

What the hecking heck?

Your mind went blank but you still heard Shirabu snickering by your peripheral. For such a stoic man, he was pretty out of character today. That little shit.

"Beware the addressed pairs won't be changed in any circumstances. Don't even bother to try" The woman said as she addressed the whole class a cold glare. Goddammit med school and its goddam professors. "You now can discuss this paper. Remember this essay is worth half the grade"

"Fuck" you cursed as your forehead banged onto the thick textbook.

"Whoa, be careful" The teasing voice made you painfully groan "We don't want this pretty brain of yours getting a DAI¹ before we start this paper"

"It's too early in the morning to deal with you, Kuroo" Your retorted came muffled as you pressed your face even flatter into the book. 

"It's too early in the morning for you be ranting about everything but you don't hear me complaining, kitten" He jabbed at you, laughing it off as mere teasing "Is it fine if we start the paper on this weekend? I gotta volley practice the whole week."

"Sure. Wanna meet up on the public library?" You asked gathering your things, as you turned to Shirabu and saw him cocking an eyebrow at you.

"Fine by me" The male scratched the back of his neck, giving you an awkward glance "Actually, I wanted to ask you phone number" You stiffened "Aw [Surname]-chan, C'mon! You know it's easier."

"But what for? You already have my institutional email"

"You're too formal for your own good, woman" He handed you his phone, nudging the device into your palms "Where do you think this strict act is going to take you?"

You rolled your eyes at him again.

"Actually, Kuroo-san" You made a pause, voicing the words with candour "I want chaos and world domination. But in order to do it, I need to overthrow the dean first" You said while punching the numbers onto the chapped screen of his phone. The ravenette snorted at your reply.

"Oh shit, you're so weird!" And he left out a hyena laugh.

"Way to impress a girl, huh" 

"Only the ones I'm trynna woo" The male smirked when he saw your dumbfounded face.

"Huh? Big words coming from a nerd" You brushed off his provocation. You knew he didn't mean it, but you couldn't prevent your heart to skip a beat.

"Oi, [Name]! What do you mean?"

Surprisingly, the week went smoothly. No Kuroo incidents nor professors bitching over the struggling students.

It was saturday and you were more than ready to spend a whole day inside the library with the ravenette.

Sarcasm? Check.

It wasn't like you hated him. If you were to be honest, it was the other way around — but you would never give Shirabu the taste of being right.

Kuroo just had a special way of getting under your skin. He knew what buttons to push and how to make feel flustered.

You were indeed whipped for him in your first year, but he was an asshole back then — It was kinda comprehensible though: being new to the infamous uni life, freshmen were always seeking acceptance from other people.

Kouhai trying to impress their senpai.

Jocks trying to make a number on the female population.

You trying to grab the attention of that hot guy from welcome ceremony — yes, the one who ended to be the bane of your campus existence.

Yada yada.

But when Kuroo turned you down — without you confessing first, you may add —, your pride was incredibly hurt. You then declared war. Best way to rile up a med student? Make your grades better than theirs.

But of fucking course Kuroo wasn't your regular med student. The competition only provoked meaningless banter — and it annoyed you even more because you couldn't get into his nerves the same way he did to you.

"Oi, [Surname]! You good there?"

"Yeah, yeah, get back to the damn peptides" You definitely despised biochemistry.

You rummaged through the books sprawled over the desk, searching for your Lehninger copy.

"Where the fuck that huge ass book went to?" You murmured, getting ready to go check on your backpack.

Glancing towards your classmate's direction, you spotted it under one of the textbooks he was using, but before you could reach for it, you felt hands gingerly wrapping around your chin, making your eyes lock into his stare.

"What are you doing?" You knew the warmth in your cheeks wasn't being provided by his body temperature.

"Conducting an experiment" He said as you melted under his attentive stare.

"Huh?"

"You know, they say exchanging looks causes an increase on Oxytocin synthesis in hypothalamus" The male smirked when a vein popped on your head, your brain recalled that science paper about the physiology on human and dog interactions. You wanted chaos and world domination — but in order to make it, you had to kill Kuroo first.

"Are you fucking calling me a dog?" You squinted at him, ready to fight. He laughed as your slapped his hands off of your face.

"Oh, come on, it was just a joke. You know the hormone of love doesn't work this way." His hyena laugh made presence as the bibliothecary gave you two a dejected stare.

Just a joke, huh?

For a med student, Kuroo Tetsuro would make a shitty doctor if he didn't know how bad his smile was for your heart.

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