#one of my ears feels super full and is ringing non stop

[bladeofthestars]

.

[1nv1s1bl3-r41ndr0p5]

how my (very shitty) day went:

sat doing absolutely fuck all in my double maths lesson because my friend was in a music exam and I was too stressed and overwhelmed to focus on any revision.

then I went to talk to my head of year (safe person) because I wanted to tell her I was getting a new penguin jellycat, after all she did put up with me on Monday and Tuesday after I lost penelope (she's still missing). I ended up staying in there for the 15 minutes of break I had before my chemistry exam. she said she'd walk me down because she's a chemistry teacher and she didn't have a lesson, plus she knows I'd likely refuse to go in if she wasn't there because I hate exams and maths-y subjects are really difficult for me. she walked me down and I went in and sat down, she made sure I was okay and then went to sort out the rest of the year group who appeared to be congregating outside the hall.

it took them ages to come inside so we started 3 minutes late, by this point I was already off schedule and it was making me anxious. I started my exam as quickly as possible so that I could be finished by what the start time should have been in order to maintain some sense of my routine.

I was 5 questions in and I was doing okay, and it was quite easy, and that's when the boy next to me put his hand up and told the invigilator he had the wrong paper. from that point onwards multiple people put their hands up saying the same thing. that's when I checked, and I had the wrong paper too. the head invigilator (safe person) told us all to stop and they collected our papers in. we were sat in the hall doing nothing for about 15 minutes until one of the assistant heads (safe person) came in and told us we'd be leaving until they could reprint our papers. Once I got out he told me to go to our student support area because he could see I was freaking out and so I went down there and I started having a meltdown.

it was my first fully violent meltdown in school, in which I hurt myself in some way. this time I was punching the wall and just crying and shaking until my bf also came down and held on to my hands to stop it. he gave me hugs and sat with me on the floor for a while (I'm super grateful for him) until my other head of year (safe person) came to tell him to go back to the hall while he dealt with me.

he put me in the quiet room and the lady in there gave me colouring to do because I was still not okay and was scratching at the raw skin on my knuckles from where I punched the wall. my head of year (the first one) came in and talked to me for a bit, she's great with the way I am and knows how stressed I get about change and exams so she offered to let me do the exam in the quiet room but I felt like I was being needy so I said I'd just go back to the hall. it was a mistake though because I could barely focus and my ears were ringing because it was loud (lower school lunchtime) and I just cried the whole way through.

then they told us that the geography exam had been moved by ten minutes so I had another meltdown, which my head of year dealt with very well considering she's never actually seen one happen in full force before, just the aftermath.

my geography exam went okay, my teacher came in at the end and talked to me and let me out first (she's also a safe person), I was just very shaken by everything being moved. I was non verbal a lot today too.

I rel@psed when I got home which made me feel like shit but it's only because of the changes.

my new penguin came so I need to make him a tactile thing to go round his neck like penelope had

(observe penelope's sprout bowtie)

but overall today was FUCKING SHIT and I have a feeling it's going fo make tomorrow even worse. I hate being alive and being me.

[erodasfishtacos]

The Brits Dilemma

” Prompt: Harry & Y/N go to the Brits. It’s the first time they’ve been away from their baby. Y/N is struggling but doesn’t want to ruin the night for her husband.

Word Count: 1.8 k +

Warnings: Depictions of breastfeeding

+++++++

The award show was going well. It was the first time Y/N had been out in nearly three months besides a few brunch dates and grocery shopping.

Usually, she was pretty confident in what she wore to accompany her husband to all of these flashy events - but not tonight.

Her bump had deflated but she was still attempting to get rid of the stubborn pouch that stayed after the baby had been born. It wasn’t anything out of the norm - just still trying to lose it.

She was breastfeeding and her breasts were much larger than before. They felt heavy and too big for her body. Not to mention, they were constantly swollen and achey. Pads were a must so she doesn’t leak through the tight satin black dress.

The dress was a beautiful custom design by Gucci that complimented Harry’s sharp suit but nothing felt right. It was digging into her sides and made it hard for her to sit on her chair.

The Brits were held in the O2 Arena which wasn’t very far from their London home but she felt like she was lightyears away from her baby. Even though she knew Sasha was in good hands with Anne.

Y/N was so proud of Harry for being up for five - yes, five different awards. It was a record for him and she didn’t want to let him down by complaining. It was his night. He’s been such a devote father - he deserved a break too.

So she swallowed down the anxiety she was feeling about being away from their little newborn for the night along with her worries about her changing body.

There was milling about between the tables before the show got started. Harry had people coming up him constantly - congratulating him on the album, the nominations, the baby.

Married life and fatherhood suited him well. A dazzling wedding band on his left ring finger, a necklace with an S for his daughter, along with her name freshly inked on right above his butterfly tattoo.

The open jacket he wore with is his barely buttoned dress shirt displayed it proudly. It was beautiful, done delicately in a timeless cursive. The font match his wife name that was tattooed on his hand.

He couldn’t lie and say he wasn’t excited to have a night out with his wife. He had Jeff booked a hotel for the night to have some alone time with you while his mum got to enjoy a night with her only grandchild.

Y/N was counting down the hours up until tomorrow when she could go home to see her baby. She should really tell Harry that she wants to go home and not out to a club and the hotel.

But the it just slowly starts to deteriorate further when a bald, plump business exec comes to greet the two of you. He gives his warm wishes about the birth of your child before smiling at Y/N and stating, “The baby weight will come off soon enough.”

Her throat closes up a bit and she self-consciously tries to push her chair closer to the table. It was the last thing that she needed to hear. Confirming all of her worst insecurities.

Harry glares at the man before turning to his wife, “Hey, you look s’perfect, my love. I’m so bloody lucky you’re mine.”

He’s truly trying his hardest to bring a smile to her face but he notices it’s never quite meeting her eyes. 

It get even worse when Harry gets his first award, male solo artist of the year. 

As she’s standing and clapping for him - she realizes she’s beginning to leak through her nipple inserts.

Y/N excuses herself in the middle of his acceptance speech to rush through the string of tables - out into the corridor. The last thing she wanted to do was for it to show up on a very expensive dress.

The echo of his voice can still be heard, “Love to thank my beautiful wife who makes writing sappy love songs easy and was the main inspiration for my recent album. She also just gave birth to our beautiful baby.....”

She feels awful when she tunes him out, finding the bathroom and hurriedly rushing in. There’s a gorgeous woman standing at the sink, washing their hands. 

Fucking Taylor Swift.

Any other time it’d be awkward and uncomfortable - running into an ex who wrote multiple songs about her husband.

But she couldn’t careless right now, “Hi, erm, this is really weird but could you unzip my dress? I’m leaking and - shit that was way too much information.”

But Taylor smiles kindly, “No! It’s okay, totally. No worries. Congratulations on your baby - you look so hot tonight.”

Y/N laughs and thanks her for unzipping the dress before going into a stall and locking the door. She slides her bra straps off her shoulders and disposes of the soaked pad in the sanitary bin.

Luckily, she has a clean burp rag that she gently swipes at her breast - wincing as it brushes against her swollen nipples. Even the soft fabric felt too rough on them.

It’s a minute or two before the bathroom door swings open, “Y/N? Lovie? Are you in ‘ere?”

She feels guilt at the panic in his voice. Managing to croak out, “I’m in here,” before leaning forward to unlock the door.

Harry waste no time in sliding into the stall before latching the lock again. Taking in the sight of his wife in front of him.

“I-I started leaking, M’sorry,” Y/N whispers, she has no reason to feel embarrassed but she is. “I missed your speech.”

“None of that, baby. I’ll give more speeches for you to hear - I only care that you’re okay. I’m sorry y’leakin, lemme help you, pet.”

In true Harry fashion, he takes the rag and turns on the sink - running it under warm water before carefully cleaning his wife up.

“Are they botherin’ you? They look irritated and super swollen, darling,” Harry frowns, a very gentle thumb coming to brush against her nipple. Then cupping her swollen breast in his hand, thumb rubbing at the pink skin.

“Just a little bit,” She lies, they’re absolutely on fire with chafing and skin irritation from the bra she’s wearing. She never thought she’d miss her nursing bras and sports bras this much.

He nods and helps place new inserts in her bra. Who’d think this is what Harry would be doing between accepting awards. Everyone unassuming in the arena.

**

Harry has been four for four thus far into the ceremony. They’d only had him go up and give two acceptance speeches. His hand firmly planted on his wife’s thigh throughout. 

When he went up for his second award, the camera zooms in and the crowd coos are he plants a kiss on his wife’s lips before pulling her into a hug - whispering something into her ear the audience can’t hear.

He was much more focused on his wife. He could read her fairly well - he’d like to think. Enough to know she’s having much fun. But he didn’t want to bring it up and make her feel bad.

Harry sees the way she keeps adjusting her bra, fidgets with his rings when his hands in his lap, and not even really looking up while one of her favorite artist - Dua Lipa -performs.

Y/N loved a good party before the baby. So Harry was hoping going to the Brits afterparty would make her feel better and then going back to their hotel room for a some alone time.

**

Y/N has been increasingly quiet when they’re exiting the arena after the final award artist of the year - which Harry had also won.

He was on cloud nine and admittedly a little distracted as he joked and laughed with a small group of friends on the way out. 

“Alright, should we all just pile into a cab for the ride to the party?” Nick Grimshaw asks everyone.

Everyone is in agreement - including Harry -as he calls to order one - standing in the blocked off area away from fans and paparazzi.

Y/N wants to tell him she wants to go home to Sasha but when she hears him say, “Can’t wait to get to Exhibit - haven’t been there in forever. One of my favorite clubs.”

She bites her tongue. Harry is enjoying his night out - why can’t she?

In the taxi, she’s sat on Harry’s lap as they make their way to the club. His one hand is on her inner thigh and the other is on her waist holding her steady.

In the morning, she’ll blame her post-partum hormones and anxiety. But she doesn’t even realizing her eyes are filling with tears and when she blinks they spill down her face.

She wouldn’t feel as embarrassed if she wasn’t in the car full of literal celebrities who are filled with adrenaline and excitement. Chattering and drinking from little liquor bottles they’d snuck in their jackets and clutches.

“Y/N, are you alright?” Rita Ora asks from her seat - noticing the streaks ruining your makeup.

She nods pathetically, wiping at her eyes but Harry is turning her to face him. His bright green eyes filled with concern as he studies her face.

The previously very obnoxiously loud cab becomes silent as they try to give the couple a semblance of non-existent privacy.

“What’s happening, dove? Are you hurting?” Harry panics, coming to wipe the smeared makeup away.

“I don’t want to go to the club,” Y/N sniffles, squeezing her eyes shut at how embarrassed she is of her behavior. She would usually never act this way - especially in public. And Harry knows that so it makes him even more concerned.

“That’s okay, pet. We can go have a night in, when the cab stops - we can uber back to the hotel,” Harry soothes, surprised when that brings on fresh tears.

“N-no, I want to go home. I miss the baby, I want to- need to see our baby. I-I can’t do this. My anxiety is through the roof, Harry. What if she can’t sleep? Or isn’t taking the bottle?”

“Baby, breathe, breathe. We can go home. I miss the bub terribly too. Have been worried about her all night.”

Harry tugs his wife into his chest further - tucking her head into his neck as he shoots his friends grateful looks. They all nod, sympathetic and understanding - despite them not having kids of their own.

**

“I ruined your night,” Y/N says softly in the back of the uber home. “I leaked during the show; cried in front of all your friends.”

Harry takes her chin gentle but firm until she meets his gaze, “You didn’t ruin anything f’me. All I care about is you and the baby - not some stupid award ceremony or party.”

He continues on, “You just gave us Sasha three months ago - y’bloody amazing. Best mum, best wife. Sexiest too - know you don’t think that right now but your body literally grew my baby. I get a hard-on everytime I see you.”

They both laugh, Y/N leaning forward to capture her husbands lips in a meaningful kiss of gratitude and thanks.

**

Anne smiles kindly when the two of them arrive home. A very fussy, red-faced swaddled baby coddled in her arms. 

“She hasn’t settled for quite a while now - she missed her parents very much,” Harry’s mum tells them, transferring her into her father’s arms. He’s automatically rocking and running his thumb over her cheek.

“Ooh, we missed you. Was Nana nice to you?” Harry coos. Sasha has already quieted and is blinking tearfully up at her smiling father.

“Such a good girl, best girl,” Y/N sighs, leaning in to kiss her downy hair. Harry’s hand coming to wrap around his wife’s waist as they peer down at their perfect little daughter.

Anne smiles at his son and daughter-in-law fawning over their little creation with so much love and adoration.

After a minute of chatting -Harry’s mum makes her way up to the guest room after a long night with a miserable baby. They make their way to their room where Y/N strips out of her tight dress and awful bra. 

She sits against the headboard in just a pair of soft cotton panties. Harry is gently shushing her and humming a melody as his wife gets situated. He knew she was anxious to feed the baby.

“That’s it my sweet thing. Y’missed us, hm? We missed you too, bub. Nana said y’wouldn’t take the bottle. Only want your mumma, hmm?” Harry coos, kissing her chubby cheeks.

He’s then giving Y/N the baby, who ferociously latching within seconds and begins eating like she’d been starved for the last week. Making weak little rumbles as she does so.

They both giggle fondly, Y/Ns fingers come to touch her fluttering cheek - memorizing her over and over again.

Harry gets onto the bed and settles next to the both of them. Watching his baby feed in amazement at what his wife was capable of. He smears a few kisses against her bare shoulder - hand on his baby’s back.

How strong she was - as he knew it had to be at least a little bit painful with how irritated her nipples had been. He can tell when she winces every once in a while.

He plants a few more kisses to her warm skin - noticing her eyes getting a bit droopy as Sasha feeds at a slow, suckling pace.

“If I’m being honest, being with you - watching you feed our baby...I’d rather be here than at any club.” 

Y/N snorts, rolling her eyes, “Sure.”

Her husband frowns, “M’serious, this is all I need, baby.”

“I love you, congratulation on all your Brits,” Y/N murmurs, pecking at his lips.

“I love you too. I meant it, during my speeches. I wouldn’t have been able to write those songs if you hadn’t inspired me. You’ll and the bab will always be the best muse.”

[lacontroller1991]

Burnt Skies (Rick Flag x Fem!Reader)

@h-hxgirl​

Requested by Anon: Saw this captain boomerang fanfic where he finds she's pregnant while they're on mission, I was wondering if you could maybe do something similar for Rick

Author's Note: He would be so protective of the reader fr fr, also this is gonna be angst angst angst so just beware

Warning: Death, pregnancy, language, blood, major character death, spoilers

“Hey (Y/N), you ready to go?” Rick’s voice echoed through the room before he halted, seeing you on the floor, head in the toilet.

“Yeah, give me a minute,” you replied weakly, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand and flushing the toilet.

“Are you sure? Are you feeling alright?” He asked, rubbing your back as you looked up at him with a small smile.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. I’ll meet you there,” nodding his head, he walked out the door with guns strapped to his body on his tac vest. Looking at your reflection, you noticed a slight greenish tint to your face. Ignoring the wave of nausea, you made your way out of the base and to the plane. Walking up the ramp, you took a seat next to Rick who looked at you with concern in his brown eyes.

“Baby, maybe you should sit this one out. You aren’t looking too hot,” he whispered in your ear as you brushed the notion off. After all, you did have a really bad gut feeling about this mission.

“I’m here. I’m going,” you stated firmly as he looked you over one more time before shrugging his shoulders, knowing it was of no use to argue with you.

----------

The plane ride was hell. With the criminals being loud and Harley’s non stop chatter accompanying your periodic bouts of nausea, you were ready to get the hell off of the plane and right into combat.

“Alright guy, get ready to drop,” Rick shouted as the cargo door opened to reveal water beneath you. Once he gave the signal, you jumped into the cool water and began to swim your way to the mainland, waiting for the rest of the team to catch up to you. After everyone, save for the Weasel, had made it to the shore, you glanced over to your boyfriend who was laying next to Harley.

“Hey guys, it’s me. I’m the guy who called you and I brought my friends,” Blackguard shouted into the open, raising his hands while ignoring the shouts coming from the rest of the team and your boyfriend, Waller’s distant cursing ringing in your ear. Next thing you know, there was gunfire in every direction and things went to chaos. You quickly sought shelter behind a rock and shot off a few rounds into the woods, hoping to take down some of the Corto Maltese soldiers. “(Y/N), watch out,” Rick shouted at you as you turned to see what he was talking about, but it was too late before a large piece of debris from one of the trees knocked you out cold.

You woke up to machines attached to your body. Feeling the bile rise in your throat, you tried to get out of the restraints and look for a place to dump the contents of your stomach. Suddenly a pan was placed in front of you and that was all you needed to release the bile. Groaning at the light, you looked around the room and was surprised to see a cleanish room which plenty of nurses occupied.

“Ah good, you’re awake,” a voice commented as a rough hand pulled your head back, forcing you to look up at one of the generals you were tasked to take out.

“What the hell are you doing to me?” You asked, squirming your body against the bed, trying to loosen some of the restraints.

“Mi amore, we are treating you. Seems you have caught a parasite,” he replied before summoning the nurse over to you, carrying a plate of food and some juice, “you’re government must really be struggling if they’re sending pregnant women into the field,” he mentioned as your blood ran cold.

“That’s impossible,” muttering to yourself, your head went fuzzy at the concept of you being pregnant. With Rick’s kid.

“On the contrary, when we brought in your friend and you, we noticed certain things,” motioning down to your stomach only brought awareness to the fact that you were practically naked in a room full of the enemy.

“Let me go,” you pleaded, pulling your arms as much as you could.

“I think not,” he replied before nodding to one of the nurses who moved to turn on a machine and attach it to your head. Screams of agony soon left your lips, blocking out the sudden spurts of gunfire in the halls.

----------

Harley laughed maniacally as she gunned down multiple soldiers, enjoying the way they were dropping to the floor. She needed to get out of there. She needed to find the others. After the last one dropped to the floor, she moved toward the door before hearing a piercing scream echo down the hallway.

“Sounds like someone’s having fun,” she ran her tongue against her teeth before skipping toward the scream. Slamming open the door, she raised the guns in her hand, ready to fire, until she saw you laying on the table surrounded by nurses.

“No one messes with Flag’s girl,” she muttered to herself before unloading the magazine in the room. All of the nurses slinked to the ground, covered in a pool of their own blood. Rushing over to you, Harley unstrapped the restraints and head piece before taking out the IV and looked for your clothes.

“Where the hell are ya clothes?” She asked, searching high and low before she found a bag filled with your bloody uniform. Helping you sit up, she noted the way you looked super frail but practically glowing at the same time.

“Harley,” you whispered out to her before passing out on her shoulder. “Awww, this would be really cute if not for the circumstances,” she stated out loud to herself, peering out of the window and seeing a guy in a helmet run across the street with Flag. Wait a minute, Flag! Running out the door, she ran around the corner before stopping in front of the two men.

“Hiya guys! What’s up?”

“We’re here to save you, is (Y/N) with you?” Rick asked with hope in his voice as Harley nodded, wrapping pale fingers around his wrist and dragging him back inside and through the pile of bodies she had claimed. At the sight of you, Rick ran to your side and hugged your limp body.

“What’s wrong with her?” He asked, fighting the tears that were beginning to surface.

“Don’t worry puddin’, she’s just asleep,” shrugging her shoulders, she left the room as you stirred, fluttering your eyes open.

“Rick?” You questioned as he rapidly nodded his head, placing kisses all along your face.

“Thank God you’re ok. I thought I lost you.”

“Rick, the doctors found something,” memories of the conversation you had moments ago replayed in your brain. You’re pregnant.

“I’m pregnant,” you whispered, mind still not comprehending the fact that you were pregnant. After all, you had been infertile most of your life. Avoiding his gaze, you waited for his response.

“How?”

“I don’t know.”

“I’m going to be a dad,” he whispered, causing your head to snap up and see a smile play against his face.

“You want this? I don’t know if it’ll carry to term. You know that I’m infertile.” Placing his lips against yours, he pulled you into his arms, hugging you as close as he could to his body. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you kissed back before a throat clearing interrupted you.

“This is sweet and all, but we have a fucking monster to kill,” DuBois stated as you looked up at Rick who smiled.

“Stay here, I’ll come back and get you.”

“I’m not leaving your side,” you replied as he sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

“You’re pregnant. No way in living hell am I gonna allow you to do this. You’ll stay here and that’s an order,” you and he both hated when he had to pull his rank, but you realized it was necessary in cases like this.

“Just come back to me,” pulling his lips down against yours for what feels like the last time, you encoded this moment into your brain, remembering the way he tasted.

“For you? Always.”

----------

He should’ve known you were going to follow them into Jotunheim. Not only were you stubborn, but you still had that nagging feeling that something was going to happen. Sneaking past the military, you found a window and busted it open with your elbow before entering the building. Landing with a soft thud, you looked around the room and noticed Peacemaker going down a dark tunnel. Running after him, you made sure to stay hidden by the numerous pillars. Peering around the corner, you saw Ratcatcher standing next to Rick, however Peacemaker was pointing a gun at Rick.

“Nobody is saying what they did was right,” Peacemaker stated, hand unwavering.

“They experimented on children!” Rick yelled as more explosions went off in the distance.

“That information gets out and it causes an international incident. Keeping the peace is worth any price, including the life of a hero like yours, sir, so please. Don’t make me do this,” your stomach churned. You knew that Captain America wannabe was no good, and now your love might just pay the price. Suddenly, rocks collapsed all around you, obscuring your view of Rick and Peacemaker.

“No,” you whispered to yourself, picking up rocks and trying to make a hole for you to get your body through. Your efforts became faster the more you heard the two men grunting. After successfully digging a hole big enough for you, you crawled through as you heard something like porcelain shatter and choking.

“You mother fucker,” Rick stated through gritted teeth as you watched in slow motion, Peacemaker’s hand grasping a large shard.

“Rick!” You shouted out before tackling him off Christopher’s body, not getting out of the way soon enough as Peacemaker lodged the porcelain into your lower abdomen. “No!” Rick shouted as Peacemaker threw you off. In the distance somewhere, you heard a gun go off before hands wrapped around your body. “(Y/N)? (Y/N)?” Rick called to you but you couldn’t hear him, your mind venturing off.

----------

The sun lit your face through the blinds, dancing in your eyes and creating a multitude of hues, a warm body pressed against you.

“Morning sweetheart,” voice deep from slumber, Rick rubbed his eyes as he let out a yawn. Stretching in bed before your 5 year old daughter came running into the room.

“Mommy, daddy. It’s Christmas!” She squealed excitedly, waking up the baby that was next door.

“Yeah it is baby, you excited for your presents?” You asked as she rapidly nodded while Rick slid out of the bed.

“I’ll go grab little Digger,” he commented, kissing your forehead and your daughter’s head. Getting up, you went to grab a coffee before the doorbell rang. Moving to open it, you saw Harley’s painted face waiting for you with Nanaue, Cleo, Robert and Abner carrying presents.

“Merry Christmas dollface,” she exclaimed, pulling you in for a hug before running off to see her god daughter.

“Come in guys,” you motioned for them to enter as Rick rounded the corner, your 10 month old in his arms.

“So this is the little guy, huh?” Cleo asked as Sebastian waved a hand at the newborn, earning giggles from the baby.

“Yep, Digger Anthony Flag, meet your family,” Rick lifted up the baby’s arm, making him wave to everyone.

“I’m proud of you guys,” Robert commented, slapping a hand on Rick’s back as everyone shuffled into the living room, Nanaue taking up most of the space.

“Thanks man, it wouldn't have happened without you.”

“Alright, everyone ready for presents?” You asked the room with Harley by your side, Harleen in her arms. Rick placed Digger in Cleo’s arms before walking up to you and bringing you into his side.

“I love you, Mrs. Flag.”

“And I you, Mr. Flag.”

----------

Groaning, you felt an excruciating pain in your abdomen and a feeling of loss?

“(Y/N), baby, you’re awake,” his tired voice resonated in your ear as he leaned down to kiss your forehead, his hand not leaving yours.

“I feel like I got hit by a truck,” you commented as he sniffled, trying to suppress the tears that threatened to escape.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” he noted, petting your hair and placing another kiss on your forehead.

“And leave our kid without a father? I don’t think...”, realization dawned on you at that moment. The sudden feeling of loss and the pain in that general area washed over you as you began crying. “Oh God, the baby is gone, isn’t it?” You asked through tears as he let a couple slip down his face, nodding and trying to smile through the pain. Choking back a sob, you turned your face away from him as tears continued to fall.

“Hey, look at me,” he whispered, squeezing your hand. Shaking your head, you refused to meet his hazel eyes, “(Y/N), look at me.” Turning your head, your eyes locked onto his as he continued to smooth down your hair.

“We’re alive. We’re both alive. That’s all that matters,” he replied, crawling into the hospital bed with you and pulling you against his chest as you cried into his shirt.

“What if I never get pregnant again?”

“We will. I’ll make sure of it. I’m done with the fucking task force. Waller can find someone else to puppet. But I’m done. You’re done. We’re gonna get married and have a nice house. I’ll get a new job and we’ll figure it out. I promise.” Kissing the top of your head, he wrapped his arms around you as you calmed down.

“I love you,” you whispered against his chest as he hugged you closer.

“I love you too, sweetheart.”

Author’s Note: Well this was way longer than I intended it to be. But hope you enjoy!!

[btsbling]

— Vanilla Mornings — jjk

☁️ pairing: Jungkook x Fem!reader

☁️ genre: Fluff, Marriage!au

☁️ summary: mornings with him in your cozy, humble abode

☁️ warnings: smut, vanilla sex sort of?, unprotected sex (stay safe!), eating out

☁️ w/c: 1.45k

©️Btsbling (Except for the fanfiction, i do not own BTS or any members)

The bright early rays of sunshine washed into the room, painting it with a beautiful palette of amber gradients.

Steady heartbeats made your eyes slowly open, getting used to the early morning. Jungkook’s muscled arm lazily draped across your waist as he was still deep in dreamland. 

You smiled, the warm feeling of pure love and tranquility made you want to stay in this moment for the rest of my days.

In the warm arms of your lover.

Looking out the window, the sun greeted you as a new day dawned. 

It was...Magnificent. 

You snuggled closer to Jungkook, taking a whiff of his vanilla scent that he regularly uses. Everything was perfect.

Outside, the trees began to sway slightly as they welcomed the soft breeze. There were hardly anyone in sight. 

It felt like you were living in a world where there was only you and him. 

You shifted to stare at him, a smile gracing your face as you silently watched him sleep. Till this day, you still couldn’t believe that this man, in all his glory, was yours.

You never thought that you could be this lucky, and truthfully you didn’t deserve him. But that wouldn’t stop you from loving this man with your whole heart, heck you would take a bullet for him.

You knew fully well that he would do the same for you. 

You lifted your arm, hands softly brushing his hair away from his fringe, the silver ring gleamed from your fingers. Memories of the previous night making you flush slightly but smile in happiness. 

You remembered Jungkook’s gentle yet desperate hands removing your wedding dress, moaning as he took off every piece of clothing while looking into your eyes.

He treated you like the queen you were, and his words made you feel another level of pride and confidence.

You remembered the way he held you tight, whispering sweet-nothings into your ear as he thrusted into you.

The way he appreciated you with his tongue, his hands and the way he made you feel like you were in a world of pure ecstacy. 

You held up his hand in yours, interwinding them together as his finger dawned the similar wedding band as yours. 

As of yesterday, you were officially his wife, his Mrs Jeon. 

Jungkook awoke to you pressing light and feathery kisses on his neck. You were wearing his large shirt that made you look super delicious as you sat on top of him, attempting to wake him up. 

“Honey, wake up” You whispered cutely in his ear. Jungkook held you tight before shifting positions with you till you were lying under him, giggling as he whined in your neck. 

“don wanna baby, you’re so warm. So freaking nice” he mumbled. You let out a big chuckle and Jungkook couldn’t help but smile as your laughter passed as beautiful melodies in his ears.

Jungkook hugged you impossibly tighter as you let out a groan, “Kookie you’re crushing me--” He loosened his hold you, resting on his elbows, staring down at his love. 

Even in the early hours of the day, you were still as beautiful, maybe even more radiant than you looked, the first time he saw you. Memories flashed through his mind, going through the two years you had spent together and now he had the blessing to be able to spend the rest of his life with you by his side. 

Your hands touched his cheeks, bringing him back from his unconscious daze. 

“What are you thinking about?” you asked him softly, with a gentle smile. “How much i freaking love this absolute goddess right in front of me” he said, lowering his head to kiss your neck, where he new you were the most sensitive.

You moaned in response, arching your neck, giving him more access to your sensitive skin. “I’m so..freaking...lucky to have you baby” he said, pausing in between to kiss you at another spot.

“and now, i’m yours and you’re all mine” Jungkook said, raising his head to look at you once more. You teared a little, not used to someone openly complimenting you and worshiping you.

Although last night’s episode was another re run of Jungkook worshipping you non-stop, you had to admit you were slightly tipsy. But now, it was so clear to you.

The absolute adoration and immense amount of love for you that filled his eyes, it made your heart skip faster. Even after years of being with this man, he still made your pulse race and made butterflies pool in your stomach.

You pulled him down, to meet his soft lips. His hands ran down the sides of your body, without missing a single spot as he angled his face to deepen the kiss.

Jungkook sat up, his sweatpants low on his hips, and his abs full on displayed. You ran your hands, feeling the hard muscle of his chiseled body, making him groan, taking your hand in his and kissing the top of it.

“My princess”

In slight desperation, he pulled off his oversized shirt of you, blindly throwing it to the ground. He slowly maneuvered his way downwards, sucking and lightly nipping at your erect nipples that glistened with his saliva. He sucked on your right nipple, making you moan out his name, “j-jungkook” while he massaged the other.

“It’s alright baby, wanna hear your voice” he said as he let go of your nipple with a pop. His fingers lightly trailed the lips of your pussy, as you curved your back, desperately trying to meet his fingers.

“P-please” Jungkook smirked at you, before holding your thighs in place and moving down, leaving trails of hickeys down the inner side of your thigh, before he licked your pussy.

“aa-ahh” you moaned out loudly. “More, jungkook p-please” you pleaded, your hands wrapping tightly around his hair, as his face was stuffed between your legs.

“so fking wet for me baby? Such a naughty girl” he taunted before licking your pussy again. He carried on with this action, going faster at times and slower at others.

Nearing your orgasm, he quickly sped up. “J-jungkook yes yes! please i’m cumming” you practically screamed out. But jungkook lifted his head, smirking at you.

His face glistened with your juice, but your chest heaved up and down. Jungkook denied your orgasm, leaving you unsettled and wanting more, you swore you were almost going to cry without having the feeling of release.

Jungkook wiped off your juices with his fingers and sucking on them in front of you, his eyes never leaving yours. “I wanna cum with you, my love” he cooed, kissing you on the lips before taking his erect cock that leaked of precum from his sweatpants.

Lining it up to your entrance, he teased you, sliding his dick up and down through your folds and only entering his head before quickly pulling it out.

This made you whine and beg, “p-please jungkook, i need your c-cock. Please” and he couldn’t take it anymore. Entering you in one swift thrust, making you moan out in satisfaction of being stretched out.

Jungkook let you relax, before he slowly thrusted into you. He was slow and gentle this morning, knowing you were still sensitive from last night. He whispered his love for you as he thrusted into your tight pussy.

“i love you so much darling” he groaned out as he thrusted particularly deeper.

You left hickeys on his neck as he snuggled into your neck at times, leaving his cock to warm in your pussy.

As he started to gain more momentum, his thrusts became harder and more erratic. Skin slaps filled the room and the bed stand knocked on the wall slightly, moans and groans filled the walls.

“i’m cumming, cum with me baby, cum with me” Jungkook said breathlessly. You came with his words, clenching down and making him cum as well. Thick spurts of his cum filled your walls as he collapsed onto you but making sure you weren’t completely crushed.

As he took out his cock, white cream leaked out from your hole, and dripped down your legs, making him grin at the sight.

Jungkook prepared a warm towel for you and helped you clean up before throwing his hoodie on you and carrying you on his lap.

He snuggled into the side of your neck, loving the smell of your body wash. his big hands covered yours and he glanced down at the wedding bands, smiling. He loved the way it looked on you.

“Good morning, Mrs jeon” he whispered to you, capturing your lips once more, as the sun rose to greet the both of you.

Please leave some comments/feedback!

[the-record]

A Soulmate Who Wasn’t Meant to Be

Based off of 'A Soulmate Who Wasn't Meant to Be' by Jess Benko.

Summary: After a difficult mission, you go seek out Wanda, only to be faced with disappointment.

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x GN!Reader

Warnings: Injuries, gunshot wound, kinda angsty but I think that’s it.

A/N: So this originally was supposed to be like super angsty but I couldn’t help myself sooo enjoy!

(not my gif)

To the entire world, you and Wanda were a perfect couple. Full of love and appreciation for each other. Soulmates even. She made you believe in love.

You had met during the whole Ultron situation and instantly clicked. Being close in age and having similar family experiences made you close.

She was gorgeous too. And while you wanted her because of her personality and good soul, there was no denying her beauty. Her soft green eyes and brown locks were enough to make you swoon.

She was always doing the most for you. Comforting you after a difficult mission or nightmare. Tending to your cuts and kissing your bruised better. Making you dinner and little treats. And the girl loved cuddling with you.

You did the same for her. Being there when her powers became to much to handle and bringing her back down from her head. Running her baths and giving massages when she was sore.

You often held hands when in public and cuddled up in private. Soft kisses on the cheek and forehead. You were almost always touching.

She was your love and you were hers.

Until you weren't.

---/---/---/---/---/---/---/---/---/---/---/---/---/---/---

It took you 6 months to realize how much you and Wanda had been drifting.

Missions had been almost non-stop for you. And when you got back, you would look for Wanda before giving up and collapsing in your bed. It became a vicious cycle and at one point you didn't see her for 3 weeks.

This last mission had been incredibly hard. You had to power through minor injuries to get the children being held hostage. They had all gotten out without a scratch but you hadn't been so lucky. An agent had gotten a shot at you arm and you get cut something in the back of your foot when walking back into a piece of shrapnel.

Clint had to come back and help you out of there as you limped to the quinjet. He cleaned your bullet wound to the best of his ability, making sure you wouldn't bleed out, before heading back to the compound.

---/---/---/---/---/---/---/---/---/---/---/---/---/---/---

Dr. Cho had you fixed up in no time. Her regeneration cradle was a life save (literally) and your wounds were fixed with almost no scarring. You had thanked her profusely before heading to go find Wanda, needing some comfort.

You looked everywhere. Your bedroom and hers, the kitchen, the living room, roof. Unfortunately you had walked past a room with its door slightly open and decided to check. God you wished you hadn't.

You let out a soft gasp at the scene before you. Vision and Wanda making out, their hands all over each other. You stumbled back and hit the doorframe, alerting them of your presence.

"Y/N..." Het voice was soft as she pushed away from Vision and towards you. But you backed away from her before she got to close.

"I can't right now, I..." You turned and sped off as your now ex-girlfriend called after you.

---/---/---/---/---/---/---/---/---/---/---/---/---/---/---

The team noticed your odd behaviors almost instantly.

You had become cold and closed off again, spending most of the time in your room. And if you were around Wanda you sent not so sneaky remarks her way.

Wanda had cooked more and drifted away from Vision suddenly. She was more timid than normal and rarely spoke, letting you spit harsh words her way. It pained her to hear them but she knew she deserved it.

Natasha was the first one to snap. She couldn't take the feuding any longer.

"Both of you, sit," The team had been gathered in the living room and the Russian had left no room for questions before continuing. "Look, I don't know what has gotten in between the both of you, but I'm sick of it. What happened to the sweet lovey dovey couple who literally could not keep their hands off each other?"

You both kept silent. Wanda feeling guilty, and you not wanting to expose her to her family and friends. Natasha sighed and sat stood, looking down at the two of you.

“Look. There is clearly something wrong between the two of you and the team and I just want to he-” You stood up abruptly, saying a small apology before rushing off to your room. At this point all eyes were on Wanda as she fidgeted with her rings. “Wanda?”

“I cheated on her...” She muttered. “I didn’t even mean to.” Her voice was small and shaky as she stared at the ground. Her eyes were glossy with tears and a small whimper made Nat sit next to her.

“What do you mean?” The redhead questioned softly.

“Vision kissed me and she walked in. I- I still love her. I just missed her and it was in the moment but it felt so so wrong, and I feel horrible for what I did. I am so sorry. I truly-” She cut herself off with a chocked sob. Her head fell into her hands and she wished that her magic could take everything back.

---/---/---/---/---/---/---/---/---/---/---/---/---/---/---

You sat on the tiled ground with your back against your bathroom door. Quiet sobs left your body as tears cascaded down your face. Sure, it had hurt seeing them together, but nothing hurt more than wanting her back. You wanted her to hold you against her as you cried. You wanted Wanda to wipe your tears she whispered sweet nothings into your ear. All you wanted was to be comforted and loved by the woman you called your home.

Luckily, your thoughts were loud. One thing Wanda had learned, was when one’s thoughts were emotional they became louder. So she had heard your thoughts very clearly and rushed to your room as quickly as possible. The door was unlocked and she came to your bathroom, gently rapping her knuckles on the door.

“Darling?” A loud sob came at the sound of her voice. She tried to push but gave up, not wanting to hurt you. “Y/N. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I just missed you so very much and I was talking to Vision and we got caught up in the moment. That kiss meant nothing to me baby. Absolutely nothing. I love you.” She felt the doorknob turn and backed away.

You must've looked like a wreck with tear stains and messy hair from pulling at it. Wanda couldn’t have thought you looked more beautiful but she didn’t think now was the right time to say anything. You fell into her body and she almost fell with you, catching you just in time. She held you as you continued to let out your emotions for the first time in weeks.

Eventually you grew tired and Wanda helped your over to your bed. She kissed your head and went to leave when her arm was pulled back. “Please don’t leave me.” Your voice was hoarse from crying and it cracked and shook. Wanda pulled the sheets back and allowed you to pull her down. She kept you close to her as you slept, not sleeping until she was positive you were knocked out.

“I will never leave you my dear.” She whispers softly before letting sleep overtake her too.

---/---/---/---/---/---/---/---/---/---/---/---/---/---/---

A/N: Kind of debating making a part 2 with lots of angst

[allsassnoclass]

Could I ask you for some mashton recs?

yes!!!! alrighty dear anon! I'm sure this list will probably be shorter than you like, but here are some mashton fics i really enjoy (non-explicit, since that's what i read)!

Every mashton rec list I do will start with delete this transmission by @anxietycalling. the worldbuilding is phenomenal, the writing is wonderful, and i love the progression of mashton's relationship in it.

“Yeah,” he says, catching sight of his reflection in the dimly reflective surface and running fingers through his hair to fluff it up. And instead of getting on the mag-train home like he wants to, he catches the northbound train to the greenlawn with Calum. “You know, I think I might not go through with it,” he tells his best friend, meaning his activation. They sit together across from the back doors of the car and watch the adverts for an upcoming showing of ‘Titanic’ at the interactive theater. While Calum sits beside him silently he gnaws on a thumbnail and wonders whether it’s too late to get his money back.

“You can’t go back on it now,” Calum tells him.

And it’s true: His payment has already been processed, the credits removed from his profile. The invoice showed up in his e-net overnight and he’d added it to his encrypted folder. “It’s just - weird,” he says, weighing each of the words on his tongue before he speaks. “To be in charge of another person like that. I don’t want that responsibility.”

next up we have i can't keep my eyes off of you by woahsos. this is one of my favorite fics! very fluffy and sweet

Ashton turns to Michael to smile, and Michael knows that whatever he’s about to say next is going to stop his heart in the middle of his chest. “I’d rather be down here with you.” The rest of the park is drowned out by the rushing in Michael’s ears. He can feel it flooding his cheeks and his heart is hammering at his chest. Only distantly can he hear the voices and laughter of children and the splashing water because I’d rather be down here with you is ringing through his mind like a church bell.

or

the cabin vacation fic filled with so much pining and love

another favorite of mine is 20/20 by @lukemichaelcalumashton! it's a 5+1 that is full of appreciating michael in glasses, which is something i definitely can get behind.

“Fuck, dude, I forgot you were getting them today!” Calum says, just as the microwave beeps. Ashton grabs the popcorn, dumping it on the bowl as fast as he can so he can head back into the living room and see what his friends are talking about.

What was Michael getting today?

“Cal, I literally told you like fifty times.” Michael says just as Ashton grabs the bowl and exits the kitchen. “That’s why I’m late.”

Ashton snorts and starts talking before reaching the living room, before Michael comes into view. “You’re always late, Mike-”

He cuts himself off abruptly, his brain short circuiting the moment he sees Michael by the door. Because Michael is wearing glasses. A pair of black framed glasses that bring out his sharp edges, his jawline, his cheekbones, making him look more serious, grown up. And incredibly hot. Ashton finds it impossible to look away, probably why he ends up tripping over his rug, the same rug that’s been there since he and Luke moved into this apartment two years ago and that he should be used to by now, and then he’s toppling over, sending popcorn flying everywhere.

Or 5 times Ashton is affected by Michael in glasses + 1 time Michael is

monse has also written wherever I am, I'll come running, which is a super sweet fic about ashton helping michael when southy gets sick, and stay stay stay (i've been loving you for quite some time) which is an established relationship lazy morning fic. maybe i'm biased as someone who loves lazy morning fics and southy and boys in glasses, but monse is definitely one of my favorite mashton writers

moving on to my love @squishmichael, taylor has some wonderful mashton fics! honestly right now my favorite is probably crazy stupid you and me because it's just so darn cute!

Maybe Ashton is too in love for his own good, he thinks as they make their way out of the small cabin, quietly so they don’t wake Luke and Calum who are asleep in the upper bunks, until they’re out in the narrow corridor.

“We are not supposed to be doing this,” Ashton whispers, because they aren’t. If any of the teachers find out, they’re screwed.

if you want immortal enemies to lovers, (if) we're meant to, i'll meet you there is the fic for you! i have also heard good things about Lucky Charm, although i haven't read it because i don't read explicit fics. taylor has a great understanding of the mashton dynamic, so any fic by them is one i'd recommend!

@calumsclifford is the person who got me into mashton, so her mashton fics come highly recommended! you can find some prompts in her masterlist that are worth the read, and for her stuff posted on ao3 got lost in the glare (I couldn't see you there) is such a good fic

“What about you?” “What about me?” “You and Ashton, and all of the flirting the other day,” Calum says, and Michael looks up, baffled. “Flirting? We talked for like, a minute at most.” “And in that minute, I saw Ashton blush more than he ever has, and I saw you more flustered than you’ve ever been."

or, a weird bakery au

@clumsyclifford has written part of me is a question (can't answer it on my own), which is based on the 36 questions to fall in love thing

“This stuff doesn’t work,” Ashton says.

Michael frowns. “You’re saying you don’t want to fall in love with me?”

print our hands on the pavement by irwah is a fun college au!

“I’m a traditional painter who has to take a basic Photoshop class, you’re a graphic design major sitting next to me and getting sucked into helping me out because I’m so shitty at this” AU

In Which Ashton Irwin Accidentally Dates His Whole Band by maiamaryse is fun and has a very healthy dose of ot4 friendship!

“So, Michael,” Ashton begins, before Luke bolts upright, makes a sound like a dying cat, and then throws up all over Michael’s carpet.

alternatively titled: The Five Times Ashton Tries To Romance Michael And The One Time He Does (Badly)

You Bring Me Home is a cute little thing by @reveriesofawriter that includes a cat

Maybe one day it will start to make sense by @cringeycal is some great hurt/comfort

Good days are the ones where keeping busy does the job of tricking Ashton’s brain into thinking he’s doing something important and productive, which ensures that he sleeps at night. When Ashton doesn’t sleep at night, fun and new mutated things come crawling out of the shadows and into his head. But, thankfully, he hasn’t been on that side of insomnia in a while. So his head itself is seemingly largely untouched; it's the cords tying his head to the rest of his body that are starting to fray dangerously.

you showed me colors you know i can't see with anyone else by @lifewasradical is a ot4 soulmates au with romantic cake and mashton, and there is mashton pov in it so i'm counting it!

“Well, the color we can see is red. Well, wait, is this the color you see?” Calum asks, holding out his phone to show Luke a list of basic colors. The only box that's anything but a shade of grey is marked red. Luke nods again, looking around to place more red objects.

“I’ve never heard of someone meeting their soulmate and not seeing all the colors at once,” Calum says, leaning back against his bed.

Or, you're supposed to see all the colors when you meet your soulmate. Calum and Luke only see red.

The 5sos fic exchange happened today and we got three new fics, none of which i have read but all of which are worth a chance! they burn us out like kerosene by @cakes-curls, Stalking for Art Students by @tran5rightsos, and Apricity by @ashtcnirwin.

mashton is the 5sos duo with the least amount of fics on ao3 (by at least 300), but we're slowly but surely trying to catch up! new fics are being added all the time! i've written various prompts and 15 ao3 fics covering a wide range of genres including college au, fake dating, vampires, a proposal, fluff, different fluff, christmas, different christmas, and ice. (the vampire au is probably the best out of those tbh, although the proposal and the first christmas one also got good reviews). i know that this still isn't that many fics for a rec list, but i hope you find a few in here that you like!

[pikemoreno]

lucky

pairing: marcus moreno x gn!reader

request: from @chibi-liz05​ “Can I request a Marcus Moreno fic (or ficlet, or drabble) where either Marcus or reader gets hurt (not seriously hurt) and end up in a med bay, kinda woozy from pain meds and they have a funny and/or cute conversation when the other one goes to check on the one hurt? Please.”

warnings: mentions of blood, injuries, death. it starts out pretty darn angsty, but gets silly and fluffy i promise. these two are hella married.

word count: 2.7k

a/n: honestly this is nothing like you asked for until the end? but this lil drabble idea inspired this whole one shot so i hope you enjoy what you helped my brain create? i loved this, needless to say.

i love this himbo and i’m so happy to write for him.

And thank you for the medical advice to @disgruntledspacedad! Thanks for helping me choose the right drug! 😆

wanna join a taglist? | masterlist

This was Marcus’s least favorite part of his job. 

As the newly deemed Director of the Heroics, he was the one to decide who went out on what mission when and with who. Normally it wasn’t too tall of an order. After all, he was chosen as director for good reason. He was perfect for the job. He was smart, organized, resourceful, and tried in everything to understand people-- whether that be in their personal habits or in their superpowered strengths. He was often commended for his ability to form the perfect teams for whatever job arose; and it came pretty naturally, it really did. 

That is, until emotion got involved, until personal bias compromised his decision making.

He was determined to not let you go on the mission, absolutely not. The band of powered individuals the team was going after were incredibly dangerous and unpredictable.They’d been a problem for months and this mission was all or nothing. The high stakes and vulnerable position made him incredibly reluctant to make you a part of the team that was heading out under the cover of night to apprehend them. When he didn’t name you among them, he was immediately countered by the rest of the heroes in the room about the choice. 

By all the accounts they were right. Given the tactics of the mission at hand, your teleportation abilities were perfect for the job. And if he was being even a little more honest, he’d agree with Miracle Guy that not sending you with them was a “disservice to the team.” It was and he knew it. In a very un-Marcus Moreno move, he was making the completely wrong choice and he wasn’t going to let the sound judgement of anyone else change his mind.

“Psion is not going and that is final,” he boomed. The room became deathly silent. “Now, go get ready. You leave in 20.” But no one moved, no one could. They were glued to the floor, watching their unflappable leader become uncharacteristically flapped. 

Marcus was the one to stomp out of the room first and you followed him without hesitation.

“Marcus,” you called, nearly running to keep up with long strides. “Marcus!” 

He didn’t even deign to turn around.

In a blink you were now in front of Marcus, hands out to stop him from continuing on without talking to you.

“No teleporting outside of work, Psion” he snapped lowly, but he still obliged your silent request and remained in front of you. You blinked at the small outburst.

“Mind losing the ‘tude so we can talk like adults?” You countered. Marcus lowered his head and whispered an apology. At that you stepped closer to him, your hands coming to rest on his tense shoulders in a soothing manner. “What’s bothering you, love? You know you can talk to me. This isn’t like you at all.”

When his eyes met yours again they were pained.

“It’s too dangerous,” was all he could get out at the moment. His exhale was unsteady as he leaned in, his forehead meeting yours in a much more “Marcus” gesture that brought you both back down to earth.

You sighed, fingers carding through the short hairs at the nape of his neck. “Of course it is. It always is.”

“Not like this,” he countered, biting his lip. “These guys are no joke.”

“Neither am I,” you grinned, tapping his nose with your own before pulling back to look at his face in full. He laughed a little, but it wasn’t whole-hearted, you saw it in his eyes.

“And I trust you. I do. I know you’re capable. I just--”

“Worry?” 

“Yeah, that.” His eyebrows were furrowed. You softly ran a thumb across the harsh lines it made, smoothing them and making him smile.

“I’m not going to lie to you and say nothing is going to happen. Because it might.” He winced at the words, not wanting to think too hard on what “it” could be. “But I’m prepared and so is the rest of the team. We’re gonna watch each other’s backs like we always do and getting everyone out safely is going to be our priority over completing the mission. It’s going to be business as usual and it’s going to be OK. I’m going to be OK. You’ve gotta let me go. They need me out there tonight.”

“I know,” he sighed. “Just… Be careful. Be ready in 10.” You sighed in relief.

“Thank you, Marcus.” You kissed him. “It’s gonna be fine.” He kissed you. “We’ve got ‘em this time. I know it.” One last kiss, strong and lingering. You tilted your head, an invitation-- no, a plead-- for a deeper kiss, which he obliged before being the one to break it. 

“Go,” he murmured, “Or you won’t make it before they leave.” You nodded, taking a deep breath. “Be careful. I love you.”

“I love you too.” You smiled through the sudden onset of nerves before turning and walking down the hallway to join up with the rest of the team.

***

That had been hours ago. Now Marcus was in command with a skeleton crew, the late hours of the assignment sending most of the support and technical team home. He quickly decided that was probably for the best. The sweet little interns did not need to see their mentor so stressed and antsy. No, he had to be “on” for them, he had to be the Marcus Moreno. And he couldn’t be that right now. Right now he was an anxious husband and teammate. 

“Where are they now, Connie?” he asked the poor woman at the comms desk behind him for the upteenth time that hour.

“Trackers say they’re still in the hanger, sir. Last update was that they had the grunts and were waiting for the ring leader to respond to their distress call.”

He wasn’t responding. It’d been two hours. And that was a major cause for concern.

“Tell them to just bring who they have back here and we’ll keep searching for him. This is still a win as far as I’m concerned.”

The man who was on comms moved to press the talk button to speak to the team, but the comm crackled to life before he had the opportunity. 

“It’s an ambush!” Miracle Guy yelled from the other side, “We’re sitting ducks out here!”

Marcus’ heart dropped into his stomach. 

“Go! Go! Get back to the-” He heard your panicked voice call out, the sentence interrupted by a cry of pain. 

The room spun. Marcus knew he was yelling but he couldn’t hear a word of what he said. It all just sounded like white noise now, mixing with the jumbled thoughts in his head and the ringing in his ears. He must’ve said something right though, because everyone was working. One was arranging a rescue, one was calling out the vitals of the team via the trackers on their wrists-- everything seemed fine by the tone of voice, but Marcus couldn’t be sure. He couldn’t grasp a word that was said to him. He was totally on autopilot, only able to respond in vague nods of yes or no. 

“Hey,” one voice next to him cut through the fog and he looked up to Lucas, the man who ran comms, “They’re going to be ok.”

Marcus’s response was non-committal, not wanting to pull the young man down to share his current state of mind, but not allowing himself to share in his confident optimism either.

The next hour went by in a whirlwind and the next thing he knew, Marcus was downstairs in the medical wing waiting on you and your team to arrive. He’d been in this position before and the thought of it made his throat close up. The images flashed through his mind of a gurney and too much blood and a confused little girl and black clothing on a rainy day in April. 

He closed his eyes harder as if to block it all out. 

No, it couldn’t be like last time.

It was then that he heard the distinct sound of the sliding doors opening and the murmur of a small group of people. His eyes shot open and, though he stood to his feet, he felt that he could collapse in relief. There was no gurney. Minimal blood-- just a couple of cuts on your face. You were hobbling in, arm around Miracle Guy as he helped you keep pressure off of your left leg. Your face was pained, which probably should have concerned him more, but he was just too happy to see you upright… Breathing. As long as he had that, you could get through anything else together. 

He watched as the medical team surrounded all of you, asking questions, prodding delicately at injuries. Marcus could vaguely hear your voice cutting in and out through it all. 

“Super strength… Kicked… Broken.” 

They had asked you a couple more unheard questions that you responded to in a simple yes or no and then they were leading you to sit on one of the beds. He watched as you went, noticing the way you were looking around for… Something.

Oh.

He smiled.

You were looking for him.

In all his panic and then relief, it hadn’t occurred to him that you would want to see him just as badly in your current state. His heart warmed at the way your tired eyes lit up when they met his. He all but ran to you. 

“Hey baby,” he cooed, leaning in to capture your lips in a deep kiss. He’d never been more in awe of you, that you were real, that way you were his, that he could kiss you freely. When he pulled away he observed your injuries closer. Head wounds were always scary amounts of bloody, but he could see that all of the cuts were minor. He brushed a strand of hair away from where sweat and blood had plastered it to your forehead. “What happened? How are you feeling?”

“I’ve been better,” you hissed as a stab of pain surged through your leg. He looked down to observe it. His immediate diagnosis wasn’t a good one. It was terribly hard to break a femur, but he was certain this was exactly what it would look and feel like. “Some super-strength asshole kicked me in the thigh to knock me down and--” You winced again. “They think she broke my femur, and I would have to agree.”

“I have to say I’m thinking that too,” he sighed. “I’m so sorry.” He kissed your forehead in between the cuts.

“What are you sorry for? You’re the one that tried to keep me from going. I forced you to let me go.”

“I should’ve stood my ground and had you and the team be mad at me,” he said completely seriously. 

“You’re ridiculous.” You side-eyed him, but smiled through the words. One of the medical staff returned at that moment, bringing over supplies to clean your cuts and asking if you’d like something for the pain while they got prepped for surgery. You nodded eagerly. 

“I’ll take this over,” Marcus said, hands open to take the first aid kit, “If you want to go get that?”

“Oh, sir I couldn’t ask you to--” The young woman gawked, slightly unbelieving that her boss’s boss’s boss would volunteer to do her job.

“You’re not asking me, I’m asking you.”

“A-- Yes, right away.” She handed him the kit and seemed to flee his presence to get an IV ready. You sat in silence a few moments as he prepared everything. He seemed lost, even in this small task. It took him longer than it should’ve to get his ducks in a row.

“Someone’s a little edgy,” you prodded, watching as too-intense eyes focused on cleaning dried blood from your forehead. He shook his head, eyes softening, but maintaining their focus. The whole endeavor was very clearly an attempt at keeping his hands as busy as his mind was. 

“I’d thought I‘d lost you. I thought...” His jaw tightened-- and it wasn’t due to the effort of wiping up blood. You stopped his hand from continuing its ministrations, lacing your fingers together.

“That it was all happening again?” you whispered. 

“It was like deja vu, baby. Everything was just like before.” The last word almost came out like a whimper. 

“But it’s not. I’m right here. I’m ok.” You brought your forehead to meet his comfortingly. The cuts stung just a little at the touch, but you remained there with him, feeling a deep, grounding breath fan lightly across your face.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

You kissed his nose and pulled away as you heard the medic return with the Versed for the pain. Marcus stayed right by your side as you were put on the IV, a hand staying firmly on yours. Which more for him than for you if he was honest. It brought him back to reality and out of his head. He no longer had to imagine the worst, because the best had happened. You were really there. It wasn’t a repeat of the aching horror of seven years before, the day that still had you shaking him awake from unspoken nightmares. You’d made it home to him and Missy-- but he was going to be hard-pressed to go against his better judgment again, no matter how much the team needed you.

“Alright, you’ll start to feel it in just a few seconds. We’ll be back soon to take you into surgery, ok?” the medic explained to you as the IV was in place. You nodded. 

“In the meantime, let me keep working on this,” Marcus gestured to the bandages in the kit. As he got to work, he watched the look in your eyes totally change, the Versed taking effect. 

“Are you alright?” he asked, covering the cut that just barely grazed your right eyebrow.

“Yeah, I’m good,” you sighed dreamily in a total demeanor change. The whole room lit up in his eyes. Marcus grinned at the way your posture slumped just slightly in relaxation. “And how are you?” you winked. Oh, this was going to be fun. He really needed to keep you talking.

“I’m doing great. Happy to be here with you, sweetheart. Now, sit still while I take care of this last cut,” he cooed. 

“Ok,” you giggled. “What a charmer.” 

“I try my best, darling.” He played along, enjoying the way the Versed had turned you into a starstruck girl with a crush.

“Oh noooo,” you squeaked suddenly.Marcus panicked, checking you over quickly for further injury. 

“What is it? Are you ok?” 

But you only grabbed his left hand, holding it up.

“You’re married!” 

Marcus blinked. What was in that stuff they’d given you? You put your face in your hands and Marcus tried to contain his laughter at the way your voice was muffled by your fingers. “You’ve been so nice and caring! I wanted to ask you on a dateeee. I’m so sorry if I came on too strong.”

“Baby,” he called with a sweet lilt to his voice-- still trying to hold in a laugh. 

“You shouldn’t call me that,” you sighed sadly, pouting, “You’re married. We can’t be together.” 

“Of course I’m married,” he held your left hand up now, “I’m married to you, you goof.” You blinked at the silvery ring on your finger. 

“Oh!” you practically yelled, “That’s so cool!” Marcus’ heart warmed at the way your eyes lit up at the realization. Even drugged out of your mind you were excited to be with him. He couldn’t help but feel likewise.

“I agree,” he smiled, “It’s very cool.” He intertwined his fingers and yours. 

“I’m so lucky,” you grinned toothily in response. It was so unlike the smiles you usually gave him: too exaggerated and, in a word, dopey. But it held the same affection. 

“No, I’m definitely the lucky one,” he countered. Your grin faltered slightly as you grew sleepy-- another possible effect of the Versed, he guessed. “Now, go ahead and lay back for me ok? I’ll see you as soon as you’re out of surgery.” You nodded in agreement and then right off to sleep.

Oh, he could not wait for you to get out so he could tell you about just how “lucky” the two of you were.

[actualhumancryptid]

Blue

Deborah/Ava

The even sillier second part to Hex, the unasked-for Hacks Witch Au. I don’t like it enough to post it to ao3 but thought it should go somewhere. (I promise I actually have plans to exit my avadeb? avorah? retirement with a non-au.)

------

Ava is sitting tensely on the bed, watching Deborah clean out her closet. Deborah hurls new things onto the separate piles like she’s cutting through air.  

“I said I was sorry…”

“No.”

Deborah pauses to glare at her before throwing some tacky sequined thing that…you know, would probably make her ass look great.

“It was your idea,” Ava says. She lifts a pink and teal zebra patterned thing up and tries to figure out if it’s a dress or a caftan. Deborah yanks it from her hand and throws it onto the floor.

“What did I say?” Her expression is livid, but the affect is kind of diminished by what Ava accidentally did to her. "What did I say, Ava?”

Ava sighs and rubs her eyes. Her head has been throbbing like a bitch all day.

“That I’m only allowed to fuck you again if I fix it,” she says. “But listen —”

‘You turned me blue!”

“Oh, I mean barely.”

Deborah glares again. The blue tint to her skin and hair really does bring out the color of her beautiful eyes. And thoughts like that are for sure what caused this bullshit to happen in the first place.

“How can you be a goddamn witch for twenty five years—”

“Twenty-six, Deborah. You were at my party.”

“Twenty-six years,” Deborah amends. “And you still have no control over your powers. At all.”

“Oh I’m sorry? I may have misplaced my fucking Hogwarts letter.”

“I did it alone,” Deborah snaps. “Nobody gave me any help. You’re not special, Ava. You’re just reckless.”

Ava’s head hurts too much to really feel the sting of those words.

“You begged me to use magic on you.”

“Yes!” Deborah snaps. “To fucking levitate me off the bed or rub me raw with telekinesis!”

The shrill pitch of her voice makes Ava’s head pound harder, makes her see white for a second.

“It’s a pale blue, Dee. It’s not even Blue Man Group level,” she says, but her voice comes out sounding flat.

“Fuck off.”

Ava closes her eyes and swallows, her ears ringing. She can’t hear the next thing Deborah says, or even what comes after. Deborah hasn’t noticed. An awful realization hits Ava.

“Did you cast a fucking hex on me?”

Deborah’s expression turns furious, but the fire drops out of it almost immediately when their eyes meet.

“Are you ok?”

Ava tries to shake her head, but winces. Deborah is on the bed then, reaching out to pull Ava’s head into her lap. Ava is afraid she’s going to throw up.

“Jesus Ava. How long has this been going on?”

Ava hurts too much to answer, her words come out slurred.

“Awhole…awill? Awhile…” she laughs. “That’s a word.”

“Christ, fuck, shit…” Deborah says, and Ava agrees but Deborah just keeps talking at a rapid pace that she finds super hard to follow. “Stop looking at her. You shouldn’t want to kiss her. You fucking did this to her. Here it is, this is what you do to people you love.”

“What?” Ava says. Her mind feels all swirly, but the pain is starting to clear. “You love me?”

Deborah’s body stiffens. She stills her hand, which had been unconsciously combing through Ava’s hair. There’s a running monologue of terror that comes out of her then, too quick and jumbled together to hear properly in detail. Ava sits up, looking at her very blue possible-girlfriend, who is shaking her head while a diatribe of uncertainty comes babbling out of her. That’s when she realizes Deborah’s lips aren’t moving.

She laughs and laughs.

“Oh wow….” Her head throbs one more time to punish her for her movements, but she can’t help it. “This is amazing.”

Deborah lets out a breath.

“How much did you hear?” the barrage of words that follow immediately after this have a tinge of embarrassment and are softer and full of more self-doubt than Deborah usually allows into the light of day.  Ava hears the word love again, but it is filled with self-loathing.

“How could you even think that?”

Deborah’s expression turns thunderous.

“It’s my brain. I can think what I like.”

But Ava takes hold of her hand and softy lifts it up to her lips. She grins briefly at the blue skin.

“You’re amazing,” she says.

“What?”

“You think I don’t love you? Dee—”

“No,” Deborah gets up then, stepping off the bed. But she doesn’t go far. She wraps her arms around herself. “You can’t…this isn’t real. Telepathy is false intimacy, Ava.”

“Oh, you’re just gonna make that declaration and I have to swallow it?” Ava says, crossing her arms. “No.”

“I happen to know a tad more about psychic magic than you do.”

“Whatever,” Ava says. “This one isn’t on me.”

“No,” Deborah agrees. “But we’re both fucking lunatics for deciding to mix magic while horny off our asses.”

“At least you only turned blue.”

Deborah looks like she’s trying to fight a smile. But she gives Ava a look, pointing a finger.

“You are fixing this shit.”

“The telepathy, or…”

“I had to hide in my bedroom when Marcus came over. I can’t leave the fucking house!”

“I think you look cute.”

“I look like a smurf, Ava. I have a blue ass!”

Ava can hear the stream of insecurities behind her words, rising up inside Deborah’s mind like a wave.

“Come here,” she says.

“No. You’re not going to get laid until—”

“Jesus, Deborah,” Ava says. “Just let me try something and then you can shit all over it, ok?”

She pulls Deborah to her, and listens, really listens, to the thoughts that are somehow swimming up into her own consciousness with little effort. She evens out her breathing, trying to recapture that feeling, the moment from the night before. When she’d made Deborah come with a scream, the magic hanging in the air like a scent, pushing and pulling and flowing through their veins until they couldn’t much tell who was who, or even remember their own names.

She can sense Deborah doing the same meditative work. Deborah’s magic is familiar to her now, the scent of it rich and fresh like the air just before it rains. The feeling is wonderful as it buffets against Ava’s own. Ava swallows then, trying to contain herself, trying not to be too much, push too hard, the power crackling under her skin as she tries to temper it.

“It’s alright, I’ve got you,” Deborah breathes. And she does, her magic cradling Ava’s. Suddenly there’s a rush like electricity through her body. And soon Ava can’t distinguish her powers from Deborah’s, she feels the steadiness and depth Deborah brings, but also the wilder chaos of her own. And then it’s just theirs.

Ava opens her eyes. She’s still too overwhelmed to even laugh happily when she sees Deborah looking like herself again. But she still has blue hair. And fuck. Ava must have done something wrong if it isn’t fixed all the way, she shouldn’t have let her power go freely like that. Why does she always—

“Shhh…” Deborah says, her breath warm as she gives Ava a soft kiss on the temple. “Jesus, you’re louder in my head than you are when you actually speak. It’s like having a hamster wheel in here.”

Ava pulls back, and Deborah lets out a cackle at her expression.

“Not so funny now I’m the one with front row seats, is it?”

“I….”

Deborah just stares at her.

“Never a dull fucking moment with you, Ava. Christ on a cracker.”

Ava nods her head away a little bashfully, let’s out a muttered fuck. But then she listens in to Deborah’s thoughts again and laughs once when she realizes.

“You kept it? You actually wanted to keep the hair?”

“Hey, it was the first thing you ever gave me. I’m sentimental.”

“I gave you orgasms! And diet coke.”

“And clumps of hair in my shower, and spilled soda on my nightstand…”

“Shut up, you love me.”

Deborah swallows, looking away, but there’s no escaping Ava now. She shrugs. Her voice is almost too soft to hear.

“I do.”

[kaiparker-avengerssmut]

Their Doll 8

Let me in

B.Barnes x Reader, S.Rogers x Stark!Reader

series synopsis:  y/n Stark, all records of her non existent, and yet Hydra still find her. When she is kidnapped by a certain super-soldier and no one believes her, she finds herself searching for unexpected familiarity in her not-so-distant past.

Series Warnings: smut, violence, torture, swearing

Chapter Summary: y/n gets emotional

Warnings: swearing, feelings

A/n: The timeline in this has been altered, as there I things I wanted to include but I also wanted this fic to follow the storyline/timeline of Winter Soldier and Civil war.So for purposes of this fanfic, Peter Parker was discovered by Tony at a much younger age - when he was bitten - and has been an intern with him since, almost like a protégée.(For the purposes of this story Peter was bitten much younger too - more like when he was 9 or ten rather than 14/15)

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Life at the tower was...tiring, to say the least. During my free time I often found myself in the gym, lobbing knives at a target and trying my hardest not to biting one in Steve's chest every time he would correct my technique. When I wasn't trying to murder the avenger in cold blood, I was usually dragged into things by the other: briefings and debriefing for missions I'd never go on, my dad's parties, group training sessions and study periods with Bruce in his labs to name a few.

But for now, I was huddled in my rooms - fresh out of a hot shower after a brutal two hour training session and four mile run with Natasha - curled up on my bed and attempting to catch up on a few of the films I'd missed. But the exhaustion and drowsiness clouded my eyes, the noise from the TV merely in the background as I felt my eyes growing heavier by the second.

A sharp knock at the door snapped my out of my lowsey state, the people movie across the screen simple a blur of colour as my eyes darted past the tv and over to the door.

"Mr Stark is waiting at your door. Would you like me to let him in?" FRIDAY's evenly calm voice chimed, making me groan and mumble a 'no' into my pillows. The last person I wanted to see right now was my dad.

"Come on kid, let me in." My dad called from the other side of the door, and I could practically hear him roll his eyes and shake his head when I stayed silent. When he spoke again, it wasn't directed at me. "FRIDAY, override command and open the door."

"Wait! That's hardly fair!" I whined like a five year old, groaning again when the door swung open and my dad stood on the other side, quite clearly just as exhausted as I was.

"Get used to it, kiddo. Life isn't fair." Tony chided, walking over to my bed. I tried to shuffle away slightly when I felt the bed dip, my dad perching on the edge as his eyes scanned over the room. "I see you haven't decorated yet." He commented casually, as if nothing had ever happened between us.

"Yeah, well, I thought It'd be a shame to spend so much time on something when you're probably waiting to kick me out anyway." I mumbled, refusing to look at him.

"What the hell is wrong with you, y/n? Ever since you got back you've been-"

"Acting different?" I cut in, and when Tony simply swallowed thickly I nodded. "Funny that, seeing as I was kidnapped and tortured for three years. Not to mention made to kill people for another year after that."

"Y/n I'm sorry..."

"But you're not! You can't be, otherwise you'd actually have tried to save me, rather than leaving me to rot!" My voice cracked, tears pricked at my eyes and I now sat up straight in my bed, facing my dad but not looking him in the eye. "And you can't change that, you can't go back in the past and fix your mistake. And trying to fix it now sure as hell won't work, so I suggest you leave before I'm tempted to use you as my target for my training session tomorrow." I raised my voice, eyes now keeping his captive as the tears rolled freely down my cheeks.

"Oh, kid, they broke you." Tony murmured, cupping my cheek with his hand, eyes swimming with sorrow. Sorrow that I didn't want.

"You can't fix me either, because I'm not broken!" I said harsher now, voice only getting louder. "I don't need to be fixed..." I trailed off, voice barely above a whisper Joe as my eyes broke the contact, averting to my lap as the tears dropped onto the bed sheets.

That's how I found myself in my fathers arms, face pressed against his shoulder as the sobs made my body shake, hiccups escaping me as I tried to speak.

"A-all I needed W-was my D-dad, and yo- you took him f-from me!" I wailed, hands clutching my dad's shirt and his arms wrapped protectively around my shoulder, hands rubbing circles over my back soothingly.

"I know, kiddo. I'm sorry."

...

"Who is that?" Clint frowned, staring at the pictures scattered over the table in front of Natasha and Steve as they studied them deeply,  brows creased in thought.

"Our newest pain in the ass." Tony answered for them, slapping a thick folder down in front of Clint as he said so. The marksman was quick to pick it up, flicking through the documents, news stories and information sheets greedily.

"The...winter soldier?" He asked, looking at the three superheroes in front of him as if they'd gone mad. "But he's a ghost story!"

"I've seen him. Been shot by him, actually." Nat said, an sadistically proud smirk forming on her lips with her last words, almost as if it were an achievement.

"We're trying to find out more about him, maybe that way we can beat him." Steve explained, sitting back in his chair with crossed arms as he huffed in defeat, sick to death with staring at the same five pictures all morning.

Y/n walked in, a skip in her step as she crossed the room to Tony.

"Morning, dad." She greeted, placing a quick kiss to his cheek and heading over to the cupboard to grab a mug. Clint and Natasha frowned in confusion, looking between the two as if they'd witnessed pigs fly.

Tony shrugged, y/n too preoccupied with making herself a coffee to notice the avengers' reactions. When her coffee was done, y/n swiped her mug from under the machine and sipped happily, letting out a content sigh before wandering over to stand behind Natasha.

"What are you working on?" She asked, peering over the spy's shoulder to get a glimpse of the pictures.

A loud smash crashed through the room, Tony's eyes widening in shock and Natasha jumping from her seat in order to not get covered in spilt coffee. Y/n stood paralysed, eyes never leaving the photo in front of her as she started at the Soldier. Steve frowned deeply, studying the girl as her eyes glossed over with with what seemed to be...sadness.

Clint was already at her side, a comforting hand on her shoulder as they all asked y/n what had happened and if she was alright. It was like a constant ringing in her ear interrupted their words before they reached her ears, and y/n suddenly felt nauseous as she starred at the bright red star on the soldier's arm, his long and messy dark hair shrouding his face and his leather clad, muscular body. Only his cerulean blue eyes could be seen, the rest of his face covered in a black mask she didn't usually see him in.

"I-I need some air." She stuttered, stumbling blindly out of the room and down the stairs, tipping over a few steps from the bottom and tumbling down the last few. She quickly pulled herself to her feet, hearing still ringing and vision offset, hazy, as she scrambled for the double glass doors. Luckily they already stood open, so she flew through them and out into the busy streets of New York.

Y/n found herself colliding will someone almost instantly, angry shouts of 'hey, watch it!' And 'look where the fuck you're going, kid!' Being called after her like a chorus as she pushed through the bustling people.

She finally stopped, dropping to her knees and simply staring straight ahead, no intended subject in her line of vision as she tried to comprehend the-the grief, at seeing the a soldier's face again.

It had only been two weeks, and yet two weeks without him, his touch, his scent - it felt like an eternity to y/n now. She hasn't registered what her feeling meant for him before, liking him beyond a source of comfort had just felt...wrong, after all he'd done, and yet y/n couldn't deny it.

She was in love with the Winter Soldier, and she didn't even know his name.

...

I wasn't aware of when someone had found me, nor of how they got me back to the tower or even how I was now stood staring blankly out of the window that stood next to my bed. I gazed longingly, almost as if I stared long enough, hard enough, he'd appear.

But of course he wouldn't, he was probably half way across the world, knowing HYDRA. A soft knock on my door and my head was turning, facing my visitor with a look of pure grief and want. Desperate, unhinged want that could eat you up from inside out and you'd still feel it.

"Hey, y/n. Can I talk to you for a moment?" Nat asked tentatively, clearing trying to to disturb my shaken up state. I nodded, offering a small smile which she returned as I now faced her. She walked up to me, talking my hands him hers and playing with the as she spoke, eyes kind and full of understanding.

"There's a mission, and we want you to go." She said calmly, almost as if the mere thought of it would send me into some kind of heart attack.

"Okay," I begun, eyes flitting down to the floor before back up again. "What is it? Aren't you scared that I'm still HYDRA and all I'd do is stab someone in the back?"

"Not exactly." Nat informed me with a smile, amusement glinting in her eyes at my assumption. "For starters, we all trust you, well maybe not steve - but everyone else does." Nat and I both laughed slightly. "And I think you wouldn't have it any other way it to go on the mission yourself." Nat finished.

"How come?" I asked, brow raised.

"There's been a lead..." she started. "On the winter soldier. We thought you might want to help check it out, possibly capture him. Your powers may be the best chance we have a detaining someone as strong as him." Nat spoke. "And if we can detain him.."

"We can save him." I finished.

"Exactly."

[greengrayeyeswrites]

shit-faced in love (chapter one)

Title: shit-faced in love

Pairing: Corpse Husband x OC (fem!youtuber!reader)

Word Count: 1,630

Warnings: Mental Health/Mental Illnesses are a big topic in this story. Mentions of depression, bpd and other mental illnesses. Angst, Fluff.

Note: This may be a Corpse x OC story but feel free to insert yourself into the main girls role. If Corpse ever announces that he doesn't like fanfics about him, I'll delete this.

Prologue — Chapter 1 — Chapter 2

— — —

„You did what?!“ Baylee screeched into the phone and Imogen sighed. She was standing in Ballinlough Community Park and watched Buddy run around in circles, greeting the other dogs. 

„Baylee, please don’t yell… This is stupid enough even without you screaming in my ear.“ Imogen rubbed the bridge of her nose and Baylee sighed. „I just can’t believe you pinky-promised on taking Pole Dancing classes when reaching two mil… Imogen, you know you’re depressed and suffer from BPD, right?“ Imogen chuckled. 

„I know, Bay. I was diagnosed often enough“ she quickly rolled her eyes and watched Buddy stumble over his feet. „To my defense, I was shit-faced hammered when we made that plan.“

Remembering the drunk game of Proximity Among Us a few months prior, where Imogen had a playful banter with the deep-voiced Youtuber Corpse Husband, send a shiver down her spine.

She was already tipsy. Tipsy and the imposter and running around like a maniac, killing everyone who came across her, when Disguised Toast asked her, what she wanted to do once reaching two million subscriber.

Her drunk laugh had ringed in everyones ears as she promised to document herself taking Pole Dancing classes like Seán and Mark had once done. 

„Do it in San Diego“ Corpse had chuckled and Imogen had pursed her lips. „You want me to fly all the way to the states to take Pole Dancing classes?“ She had asked before killing off his little astronaut.

Once back in the lobby Corpse, whom she was getting to know at that time, started talking about the weird and drunk induced idea.  „You wanted to visit your best friend in Houston anyway, right?“ The man spoke and Imogen had nodded—even if no one except her chat could see it.

„Then come to San Diego. I bet there are good schools here.“ And after taking another sip from her Vodka Imogen grinned. „Sure, why not!“

But Imogen had low-key forgot about this situation and when Corpse tweeted her this morning, her whole face flushed and she remembered everything about the drunk Among Us session.

„But are you doing it?“ Baylee’s voice brought Imogen back to the reality. „Are you really coming to the states?“ Imogen bit the inside of her lip. „I’m meeting my therapist later today. I will definitely talk about this with him and see what he has to say.“

Imogen heard Baylee hum in the background. „I would be happy if you’d come and visit me“ she started and Imogen pouted. „Me too!“ She watched Buddy run towards her, with a stick in his mouth.

She knew she had pinky-promised Corpse that she would fly over to San Diego and document her Pole Dance classes. But was she brave enough to actually do it?

— — —

Two months later, it was a hot and sticky day in June and Imogen was looking at the suitcase in front of her. She still couldn’t believe what she was about to do.

With a one-way ticket to Houston and Buddy’s pet passport in her hands, nothing was in her way to travel over the pond. She got tested negatively for Covid and was ready to embark on this new journey.

She had a good talk with her psychiatrist about the upcoming journey and he told her that she was currently stable enough to travel. He stacked up her medication and told her that she could always call him, when she felt like the mood swings were too much to handle.

It took Imogen two months to prepare Buddy for the upcoming trip, and a lot of meetings with his vet to check if the fluffy dog would be okay in two eight hour flights. 

Imogen had her phone at her ear and was currently talking with non other than her internet friend Sykkuno. „Do you think Buddy is going to be okay?“ Imogen asked, fumbling with the hem of her pajama top. „You’ve prepared him well! You checked his health with the vet and talked with airline. You also got a letter from your psychiatrist, that Bud needs to be with you at all times!“ Sykkuno spoke and Imogen sighed.

„I know, Sykk… But I’m a little anxious that he’s going to get sick throughout the flight.“ She looked at Buddy, who was still sleeping on his cushion. „I just read so many horror stories about pets dying during flights.“ - „I feel you, Imogen. I would be super scared if something would happen to Bimbus.“ 

Imogen sat down on her bed. She still had a few hours before she had to head to the airport. She was happy Sykkuno had picked up the phone, otherwise she would’ve freaked out.

„I’m seriously happy that there are no size requirements for emotional-support-dogs… I already booked business class seats so Bud and I can have more space.“ She sighed and Sykkuno chuckled. „Just imagine the faces of all these business men wondering why there’s a full grown Siberian Husky in business class“ his laugh rang in her ears and her heart jumped.

„Not gonna lie, Sykkuno, but I can’t wait to finally meet you in person!“ She grinned and looked at all the documents, that were sprawled out on her bed. 

There was the letter from her psychiatrist, stating that Imogen needed the animal for psychological reasons; a prescription of why Imogen needed said animal and all the other veterinary documentations.

Imogen could hear the one year older male laugh. „Me too, Imogen!“, his voice was as soft as usual. „I can’t wait for Bimbus and Buddy to meet!“ He chuckled and Imogen nodded.

She had contacted almost all of her closest Youtube friends and had asked them if they wanted to meet, once she and Buddy set foot in America. 

Sykkuno was one of the first to tell her, that he wanted to meet her and Buddy. Then came Rae, that invited her to do a collab or something for their channels. Poki also contacted Imogen, asking if she wanted to hang out with her.

But the one, Imogen hadn’t believe would approach her, was Corpse Husband. Corpse had called her—it had been one in the morning in Ireland—and told her that he wanted to meet her, once she was in San Diego for her Pole Dance class.

„You want to meet me?“ Imogen asked him. „You never show your face and yet you want to meet me… in person?“ His deep laugh rang in her ears. „Yeah… is that weird? We’ve been texting everyday and I really want to meet Buddy!“ Imogen rolled her eyes.

„You want to meet the dog, not me?“ He laughed even louder and Imogen was worried for a second. His breath hitched. „Are you okay?“ - „Yeah, you just sounded as if you were jealous of your dog.“ Imogen rolled her eyes and bit her fingernails.

„You know he’s not just my dog, but my companion, right?“ - „Yet you’re jealous of me wanting to meet him.“ Imogen knew that it was no use talking to him and sighed. „You know what? Let’s meet and see if you really only want to meet Buddy.“

Imogen shook her head as she remembered the late-night calls and texts from the faceless YouTuber. And she could only fathom how stressful it must be for him to actually invite Imogen over.

„When’s your flight?“ Sykkuno asked and Imogen sat down on her gaming chair, overlooking her room and sleeping Buddy on the floor. „It’s in few hours. I still need to dress properly, I’m still in my pajama. And I still need to head up to Dublin.“ Imogen laughed. „Your layover is in Washington right?“ - „Yes, I wanted to stop in Washington because Buddy can only hold in his pee for about nine hours.“ A chuckle left the black haired girls mouth and Sykkuno laughed. 

„It’s his usual sleep duration“ Imogen looked at her wristwatch. „Dang, Sykk… I’m sorry but I really need to hang up. I definitely need to get ready. Sorry Bub!“ The YouTuber on the other line laughed. „It’s okay, Imogen. Get ready. Text me once you’re boarded and in case you need anything!“ 

Imogen grinned. „Thank you Sykkuno. Really, thank you!“ She said her goodbyes and hung up. Looking at the watch one more time, she took a deep breath. 

Imogen stood up and put her phone on her desk before rushing to the pile of clothes she decided to wear for the journey. She decided on a simple black skinny jean and an oversized black print tee. 

It was one of her go-to outfits and one she felt the most comfortable with. Even if people on the internet were sometimes thirsting over her posts and pictures; she still didn’t give them thirst traps by choice.

 She would’ve never imagined people nutting over her posting a picture of her legs covered in cuts and bruises. 

Imogen never thought people would find her scars hot. And she always exclaimed in her videos, that it wasn’t pretty, that she wasn’t romanticizing her illness. She wanted to spread awareness that it was be ugly. That’s why she posted pictures of her legs. 

She wanted to show, that it wasn’t pretty, having legs covered in self-inflicted cuts and bruises. But people still thought it was hot and edgy because she dressed like that. 

Imogen straightened her hair and checked herself in the mirror. Her eyeliner had the perfect wing and her usually dark eyebags weren’t as prominent as usually. 

She took a deep breath. „Americas… here I come…“ she looked at her dog, before taking her phone and posting one more tweet, before getting ready to head up to Dublin for her first flight of the day.

to be continued...

Taglist: @wineandionysus

[cotncandyboifics]

A Lovely Night: Chapter 6

AO3 Link

Masterpost

Chapter 1 ~ Chapter 2 ~ Chapter 3 ~ Chapter 4 ~ Chapter 5

Pairing(s): pre-established roceit & prinxiety, anaroceit, eventual anaroloceit, eventual intruality

Word count: ~4k

Story summary: Roman's boyfriends had had a rivalry since before either of them had actually met Roman. Running a bit late to a date night, Roman accidentally gets them to start dating too.

General CW: non-detailed description of an anxiety attack, non-detailed description of physical pain, food, kissing, potentially triggering descriptions of physical bodies, swearing, caps lock, school settings, s-xual innuendos, slight description of gore(imagery), vague descriptions of anxiety, Implications of an eating disorder, fatigue, dissociation, suppression of stimming, implied heavy restriction (ED), inner monologue-style anxiety description, eating, (will be added to as I write more)

Chapter CW: Implications of an eating disorder, fatigue, dissociation, suppression of stimming, vague description of an anxiety attack, implied heavy restriction (ED), school setting, inner monologue-style anxiety description, food mention, eating, (let me know if i missed anything please!)

Author notes: <<>>

...

Logan did not know what to do with himself. The past week had thrown him off his figurative rhythm far more than he could have possibly anticipated.

First, a lead actor who he'd already been trying his best not to look at - with his accursed pretty hair and handsome face and big muscles - decided to attempt to court him? Logan felt mocked. There is no conceivable possibility that such a beautiful - and might he add, quite pompous and bothersome - man would have any sort of real interest in him, romantically or sexually. He shuddered slightly. He really should have taken the apple his roommate had offered him for breakfast that morning, but it was too late now.

And wouldn't you know, just a week later, a - dare he say - equally pretty man with mesmerizing blonde curls and a cheeky smile takes an interest in him at his own school . After years and years of having never been asked out, no one having taken an even remote interest in him, not one second glance, Logan had two men asking after him in the span of a single week. Men who he found atrociously gorgeous, in fact. Logan pinched the bridge of his nose, glasses riding up his forehead a bit.

This alone would have been enough. But he just had to go into that little sewing shop for his dear friend Patton's birthday present, and that boy with the purple bangs who stumbled over his words and his feet was completely and undeniably flustered by Logan's presence. Perhaps he was simply experiencing an ego boost from his two previous encounters that week with pretty men, but he felt that the attraction the boy seemed to have for him was unmistakable.

And now here he was, pacing down the sidewalk toward the library, headed off to meet - Janus, if he recalled correctly - for their first study session. He didn't know what the hell he'd been thinking when he asked to meet Janus again, the very next day no less... perhaps he felt the need to seize the moment while it was present, or however the saying goes. Regardless, while his actions had been quite uncharacteristically spontaneous, he saw no logical purpose in redacting his decision; Janus seemed to be an individual with plentiful intellect, and studying with fellow students had generally proved to be a beneficial tactic in Logan's (albeit minimal) experience and (far less minimal) research. Meeting with Janus, even if it wound up simply being this once, should be no different.

Logan avidly ignored any simmering feelings that he wanted something more than to spend time with Janus just this once.

He was shaken from his thoughts when his phone started ringing in his pocket. He examined the screen, noting the time - 2:49 PM, he wasn't late for his engagement with Janus just yet - as he checked who was calling. It was an unknown number, but the area code was local. Logan frowned, pressing the answer button.

"Greetings, Logan Lattimer speaking."

-

Virgil was kind of panicking.

His boyfriends each happened to meet this super-cute space-nerd guy in the span of a week, and the second they'd talked to him they were all heart-eyes. Not that Virgil was complaining; the guy sounded really cute.

He knew first hand now, that he was in fact super cute . That was the problem.

Virgil's lunch break came and went, most of which he spent gnawing vaguely at a sandwich and staring anxiously at the contact card that had been in Logan's wallet. It simply had his full name and phone number on it, nothing else. He tapped it on the desk in front of him, glancing between the numbers and his own phone, set face-up beside his elbow.

And then his lunch break had ended, and he had several more hours of worrying before he had to convince himself to call Logan.

Something occurred to him, during those hours. Should he tell his boyfriends?

What would he even say? There wasn't much to tell, at least not that warranted calling them before he got home. If he was going to make any calls, there was one he was under obligation to make first. And if he were to seek comfort in them for his obligation, what would they say?

Roman was probably the lesser option; he'd been whining about Logan all week, and now that he knew Janus was meeting with him again today, tensions were especially high. He'd be no help whatsoever, Virgil was sure of it.

And speaking of Janus meeting Logan again today... that also meant no. Calling your boyfriend who was about to see the guy you were nervous to call made the situation all kinds of awkward. No, everything would be easier if he'd simply call him.

So, shaking his shoulders out a bit, he did. He stepped into the break room, grabbed his phone and the contact card, and dialed the number.

His thumb hovered over the call button for a few seconds too long. He cursed under his breath and looked away as he pressed it, bringing the phone to his ear. it rang twice, and then a slight static preceded a familiar voice.

"Greetings, Logan Lattimer speaking."

Virgil was glad he'd drew in a breath to hold when he'd pressed the call button, because he wasn't sure he could recall how to breathe properly.

"Hey, this is Virgil, um, from the knitting supply shop? Uh, you kinda left your wallet here..." Virgil managed to cough, voice not breaking as much as it could have. His chest felt cold and constricted, and he wrapped one arm around himself to fight off the burn of the icy spears stabbing through his lungs.

"Ah, hello Virgil. I am currently on my way to a separate engagement, however it should not take long. At what time would it be acceptable for me to return to your place of business to retrieve my belongings?"

"Oh, uh- I'll be here till four," Virgil stuttered a bit, surprised at how fast Logan jumped to planning mode, as well as realizing he knew the precise nature of the so-called separate engagement Logan was about to attend.

"That is adequate. I will make sufficient efforts to arrive before that time. See you then."

With that, the line disconnected, and Virgil was overwhelmed by the eerie silence of the break room. He glanced at a half-empty box of donuts their manager had brought in yesterday.

He could have said that the shop actually closed at six, and that Logan could get his wallet from Emile, but his train of thought hadn’t been screwed on properly when he’d been speaking, so he could grant himself a little slack- wait, he was mixing his metaphors now...

Suddenly, the door swung open, Emile peeking out from behind it.

"Virgil, could you get back out here? We've got a little rush," and he ducked out, gone as quickly as he’d arrived.

Virgil sighed, shuddering away his anxieties, grabbing a donut hole and popping it into his mouth before heading out to join his colleague.

-

Janus was sitting at a table set between the rows of shelves, reading pensively beneath a subtle desk lamp where Logan found him. He glanced up and smiled gently when Logan arrived, who set his things down beside a chair opposite from Janus'.

"Apologies, Janus, but I must cut our studying session short in about 45 minutes - i left my wallet at a nearby shop this morning, and must retrieve it before 4pm." Janus' eyes sparked with something Logan couldn't place, and he hid a smirk behind steepled gloved fingers. Logan gulped imperceptibly. "Perhaps we can set up another time to study as well- um, to make up for it, I mean?" He rushed his words out in a short breath, running his fingers through his hair to collect himself. Janus' smirk broadened very slightly, and Logan found himself watching the lines of Janus’ face as they shifted.

"It would be my pleasure." Janus averted his eyes for a moment, eyebrows furrowing slightly as he thought. “Perhaps we should exchange information, so that I might- so that we can settle on a proper time for another engagement.” Janus reached into his inner coat pocket, producing his phone and tapping away for a moment, before passing it to Logan. He took it carefully, recognizing a blank contact screen, and quickly entering his information into it. He handed the phone back to Janus with a tight smile, and Janus returned it, sliding his phone back into the same pocket before resettling himself in his seat more properly.

Janus set aside his book to pull out a few textbooks for their critical thinking class. "If we are cutting our study session that precisely short, that would provide me with a chance to surprise-" He faltered for a moment, tone changing, though it was so subtle Logan almost thought he'd imagined it - "a friend of mine after his shift. Now, where did your class get to in the lecture today?" He started thumbing through the pages of a particularly thick but small book, holding it by the spine with one hand.

"Ah... Professor Cauley was stopped short on page 461 when he became distracted with his electric pencil sharpener malfunctioning, and class ended a few moments later. He did inform us that the other class had made it to page 465, so if you need me to catch up to you, it should only take me a few minutes." Logan was rifling through the pages of his textbook intently, not noticing Janus' surprised expression.

Janus reached a hand out, cautiously setting his hand on Logan's wrist, just beneath his wristwatch. "Don't fret," he breathed, "it appears we share the same class period. If I recall correctly, Professor Cauley’s face went positively red with rage, and he nearly broke the poor sharpener worse as he tried to unjam it." Janus chuckled shyly through his words as Logan met his eyes, smiling after a moment.

“Fascinating. I wonder how I have not noticed you in class before?” Logan tilted his head very slightly, and noticed something swimming warmly in Janus’ eyes. They were quite a very lovely golden brown, he thought.

Janus shifted, looking down to adjust his own texts, but the smirk that was growing less snarky by the second never left his lips. “It is a rather large class. It can be easy to lose faces in the crowd. I’m not sure I can pick out more than three people with whom I share that  class if they were to pass me in the halls. But no matter.” Janus glanced at Logan’s textbook and notes, readying his pencil. “Shall we begin?”

-

Logan was talking animatedly as he hunched himself over his notes, Janus glancing up to watch his face behind its shield of deep brown bangs intermittently as he scribbled in his own notebook to (at least attempt to) keep up. Janus’ gaze was averted, however, when a repetitive chime sounded from Logan’s phone, sitting face down on the desk just beside his right forearm. He stopped mid-sentence, adjusting his posture and picking his phone up, flipping it over to view the screen. He sighed, deflating slightly, as he tapped the screen once, setting the phone back down.

“My apologies, Janus, but it appears that it is time for me to depart.” Logan stood, a colder, sharper version of himself taking the place of the one that holds a deep passion for learning. The beautiful ice crystal, despite its beauty, is still the twin of the icy shards that cut sharper than knives or spears, Janus thought.

Janus stood swiftly, joining Logan in his gathering of his personal belongings, shoveling his own texts into his own bag. “It is quite alright, I assure you, Logan.” They met eyes as Janus spoke Logan’s name, and Janus could swear he saw a subtle, blotchy pink settle in Logan’s cheeks. “I’ll be headed down Main Street, then. Perhaps-” Logan cleared his throat, glaring down and to the side at nothing in particular as he retried his statement. “I will be expecting to hear from you, Janus.” They walked side by side out the front of the library, stopping just past the doors to say their goodbyes. But Janus had a small realization, and felt the creeping suspicion crawling its way up his sides returning. He resisted the urge to shake or twitch it away, grinding his teeth a bit.

Instead of continuing to suppress his stimming, he cleared his throat, speaking to Logan. "I am headed down Main Street as well. I hope it is not out of- I hope that it isn’t inappropriate for me to ask, but...will you allow me to accompany you?" Janus asked, nearly moving to offer his arm to Logan, but deciding quickly that that was far too forward. He settled on spreading an arm out, gesturing to the concrete path before them that led to the sidewalk.

Logan offered a small smile. "That would be adequate, and not inappropriate in the slightest. I, I would enjoy your company.” A beat of silence, and Logan cleared his throat. “Just this way," and Logan set off, at an impressively brisk pace that Janus nearly had a hard time keeping up with, having been caught off guard.

They walked in stride with one another as they made their way down the street. Janus became increasingly suspicious of the scenario the closer they got to the sewing shop. From what he knew of Logan's situation, there was no conflicting evidence that would disqualify the possibility that Logan was headed, in fact, toward Virgil's workplace. Janus held his breath when they turned onto the very same block, watching Logan's body language soften as they did.

Janus took a deep breath, glancing at the sign of the sewing shop a pace or two ahead.

"Logan, there's something I wish to discuss with-"

Janus glanced at the sewing shop's sign once more as they passed, but didn't move to stop before the door until he realized Logan had done so, standing a bit stiff a few paces back.

"This would be the establishment I spoke of," Logan's eyes looked a bit hazed, vaguely pointed towards the door handle. He seemed not to have heard Janus’ beginnings of a confession. Janus’ eyebrow quirked ever so slightly.

"Interesting," he breathed quietly, and Logan met his eyes then. "Allow me." Janus reached a gloved hand out to open the door for Logan, bowing slightly as he held it open.

"Much appreciated," Logan commented, stepping through the doorway smoothly.

-

Virgil was sitting slouched behind the counter, typing random numbers into the cash register out of boredom. He was half considering going to bother Emile, but he was busy doing inventory. And besides, Virgil needed to stay behind the register in case any customers came in. One person behind the counter at all times, that was the rule. He sighed, bringing his hand to his face and tapping on the tip of his nose absentmindedly.

The bell chimed, and Virgil looked up from behind his mop of purple hair. His heart gave a few beats a bit harder than usual, and he felt his throat constrict slightly.

There was Logan again. And the whole rest of the world became background noise.

The line of Logan's mouth widened, creating a crease or two on each side. Virgil realized that not only was he staring at Logan's lips, but as well that Logan was smiling. At him.

"Hello, Virgil," He spoke softly.

"Hi," Virgil practically coughed, the scratch in his throat making it borderline painful to speak. "H-how was your, your day?" Virgil asked, pursing his lips as soon as his words had left them.

Logan inhaled, raising his eyebrows and averting his eyes from Virgil's intense brown ones. "It has been satisfactory." The door chimed again behind Logan as it shut, and Virgil suddenly recognized that there was another person in the room. A person whose presence felt immediately familiar...

"Ah, my apologies," Logan stepped to the side slightly, allowing the person to come into full view. There, with a small sheepish smile, stood Janus. "Allow me to introduce-"

"Logan, dear, that won't be necessary," Janus rested a gentle gloved hand on Logan's shoulder, and Virgil couldn't tell if he was about to pass out from gay panic or just regular panic. "We are... quite well acquainted." Janus smiled tenderly to Virgil, and Virgil's whirring brain slowed if only slightly. He was safe.

…but… was he though?

-

"Oh, is this the friend you spoke of earlier, whom you meant to come and meet? How coincidental, that we were on our way to meet the same person without either of us having any prior knowledge of it." Logan was caught up in his fascination so much that he did not notice Virgil beginning to hyperventilate, knuckles white as he gripped the counter, or the way Janus was watching, practically frozen.

But, as Logan's commentary came to a close, it was as though a flip switched inside Janus’ mind, and he quickly strode around Logan. He stepped quickly behind the counter and over to Virgil, all while nearly whispering little nothings like "oh oh oh," "hush now love," and "come here dear."

Logan's brain took a moment to catch up, and soon he was simply standing there, watching as Virgil clung to Janus' coat rather desperately. Virgil’s body shuddered in silent sobs as Janus wrapped his arms around him, tight and secure. Janus was still whispering to him, but it was inaudible to Logan now.

Logan didn't quite know what to do, and so he just stood there, feeling rather stuck for a long time. At some point, he set his backpack and the gift bag he'd gotten from this very store earlier that day down against the counter on the floor, folding his hands before him. At some point, he registered Janus giving him an apologetic look, which confused him.

And then Janus kissed Virgil on the forehead, pulling back slightly to look him in the eyes. Logan thought from the way Janus was nodding softly and the way their chests moved together, that they may be doing a breathing exercise. He couldn't focus on much else, so he tried to follow along and copy them as well. 4, 7, 8. 4, 7, 8.

Sooner than later, Janus was leading Virgil carefully back out around the counter, both looking slightly worse for wear, but at least Virgil was far calmer. Janus smiled meekly at Logan again, and he still couldn't quite understand what was happening. It appeared that Virgil had had an anxiety attack, but the way Janus had rushed to comfort him so quickly, the way he seemed to know exactly what to do-

"Here you go, Logan," Virgil's voice was a bit scratchy as he reached out his hand, Logan's familiar black leather wallet between his pale fingers. Logan cleared his throat.

"Thank you," He spoke a bit more quietly than he meant to. He suddenly felt his headache flare again in full force, and had to fight not to shake as he reached his hand out to retrieve his wallet from Virgil's hands. He barely succeeded, but Virgil seemed to notice something amiss - he was watching Logan's wary eyes with some mix of suspicion and concern.

Janus, however, had been staring at the floor, and did not notice Logan's onset of fatigue. He sighed, clearing his throat softly. "Logan, I suppose you deserve some kind of explanation. One I tried to give before we’d come in, but regardless." Suddenly Virgil's eyes were on Janus, and far wider than Logan thought possible. Janus just glanced at him, nodding gently, and Virgil's shoulders visibly relaxed. "Virgil and I are..."

Janus laced their fingers together, and Logan's vision went blurry, everything around him fading to static fuzz as he tried to remember to breathe. He'd eaten more than enough today for this to be happening, surely? ...Had he eaten today? He couldn’t recall. He could always remember ... He vaguely registered Janus still speaking in the background, but he couldn't care enough to force himself to refocus. He got the jist. He and Virgil were romantically involved, and Janus was interested in nothing more than a friendship with Logan. That was perfectly fine. He didn't mind. He forced away the roiling feeling in his gut and gulped down the sting starting to tingle in his eyes, forcing himself to nod.

"Understood," He blurted, voice a bit raspy. He turned toward the door, reaching for the handle. Before he fully exited, he threw over his shoulder, "I look forward to seeing you later this week, Janus. And thank you again, Virgil." And with that, he was gone.

He made his way down the block briskly, trying to shake the haze that clouded his vision. The only thing he could think to do was go and see Patton. He knew nothing worked magic on his body like a good black coffee.

-

"Virgil and I are..." Virgil looked down as Janus laced their fingers together, and looked back to Logan, whose face seemed to have gone paler than it normally was, which was quite horrifying to see. Considering Logan was already so white that his skin tone bordered on inhuman, now it was devoid of any pricks of red coloring and looked almost like an empty tinted gray, pronouncing his cheekbones and eye bags even more so. Janus looked between them, continuing after a moment, "...we have been romantically involved for several years now, and even longer with our partner Roman, who you may recall from the community theatre? He's expressed to us that he's quite taken with you, in fact... And I know this may be a lot to spring on you right now, but I thought you deserved to know... it felt wrong to pursue anything with you romantically when we- when you didn't have the facts straight, and even regardless, it's important for you to know that all three of us are-"

"Understood," Logan cut Janus off, nodding. He didn't speak harshly, in fact his voice was quite quiet, but it was curt and forward as Logan always was, and so cut through Janus' words like a frozen blade.

Janus looked at him in awe, and opened his mouth to speak, but Virgil gripped his arm before he did. Logan was already at the door. He glanced over his shoulder, but didn’t really look at either of them. "I look forward to seeing you later this week, Janus. And thank you again, Virgil." Janus and Virgil watched as Logan walked out the door and straight down the sidewalk through the shop window.

Emile, who apparently had been standing there for at least a few moments, cleared his throat awkwardly. Janus and Virgil looked at him in unison, matching exasperated looks on their faces.

"U-um, Virgil, I was just gonna check in, see if you've clocked off." Emile wrung his wrists between his fingers awkwardly.

"Um, no not yet," Virgil bit the corner of his lip, muttering a 'sorry' as he stepped past Emile and paced quickly to the back room to clock off. Janus stared blankly at the floor where his boyfriend had just been, eyebrows knit in thought.

"You feeling a-okay there, Janus?" Emile dipped his head a bit to get Janus' attention gently. Janus blinked a few times, engaging with Emile as he re-centered himself in the present moment.

"Yes, Emile, I'm fine, thank you," Janus rubbed his gloved palm with his thumb anxiously. He couldn't think of anything to add, so Emile smiled carefully, nodding and stepping away to resume whatever busywork he needed to attend to.

Virgil was back again shortly, his backpack slung over his shoulder. He gave Janus a strange look, some kind of combination of pity and sadness and confusion. At least, that's how it looked to Janus.

"Ready to...?" Virgil gestured vaguely towards the door, leaning into Janus' personal space a bit. Janus offered him his arm, clearing his throat and holding his chin high.

"Yes, love. Let's get home to Roman."

As they walked to the bus stop together, neither had any clue what they’d say to their Prince. He’d be distraught, they were both sure, and significantly more so than he already was, which would be… intense. Janus squeezed Virgil’s hand in his own slightly, and smiled somberly at him sideways.

They’d figure this out. They always did, eventually.

Janus took his time on the bus typing out a message to Logan, Virgil watching from the seat beside him as his head laid on Janus’ shoulder. Janus settled on something simple.

To: Logan L It's Janus. I'd love to meet up to study, or perhaps discuss other things, some time this week. Let me know if Thursday or Friday works better for you.

[mizunetzu]

May I request something anything fluffy with male reader with Sero and/or Kenma if u want to od just one of them pls Sero im desperate for him QAQ

Okokokso I was GONNA do drabbles, but I kinda went a little over board with them, so they’re kinda mini fics?? Like they aren’t as long as my usual fics but it’s longer that what people call a Drabble? I’m def proud of them so pls pls enjoy

Seros is under the cut, and kenmas is under seros !

——————

Sero x reader - Interesting

⚠️warnings - none

Pronouns - male, he/him

——————

First days of school were always kinda rough.

No one knew anyone, nor what anyone’s quirk was. You had power until someone found out you had a stupid quirk-or no quirk at all. It was an unfair hierarchy yet to be overthrown.

“Ne ne-Mina-Chan, right?” A soft spoken, (h/c) boy piped up as he walked towards Minas seat. Even if he was on the softer side, that wouldn’t stop him from making a friend or two.

Mina chuckled and gave (y/n) a short, animated, description of her quirk. It was acid apparently, and had nothing to do with her looks.

Sero absentmindedly followed (y/n) around the classroom as he asked people what their quirk was. He was hoping he’d miss him. He didn’t want someone to comment on how he got into the hero course with a boring quirk like hi-

“You’re Sero-kun, right?”

Seros blood ran cold. He shifted in his seat to face the boy standing beside him, arms resting on the back of his chair. He was awfully close, and his hard, but soft gaze seemed to make him melt into his seat. He didn’t know why though. It was probably due to the fact that he was about to disappoint him with his quirk.

“Yeah...that’s me alright. What can I do you for?” Sero jabbed a fist into his chest, trying to seem as cool as possible to make up for everything else. (Y/n) smiled.

“I was wondering, since I saw something kinda bulking out of your elbow sleeves. What’s you quirk, Sero-Chan?”

Damn, already with the ‘Chan’? The black haired boy gulped and pulled up his sleeve. “Well-I can shoot tape out of my elbows. It’s nothing interesting, I know...I’ve heard it plenty of times...”

Sero ripped a small piece of tape off from his elbows, and stuck it onto (y/n’s) blazer. He hadn’t met his eyes yet, fully expecting him to be disappointed or underwhelmed. Instead, he felt a finger lift his chin up to face the boy standing in front of him.

“I think your plenty interesting, Sero-chan.”

It was only now that Sero seemed to notice how the morning, sleepy light flooded into the classroom, making (y/n) glisten and glow like an angel infront of him. His finger was still on his chin, but he was harboring a soft, clad smile, full of genuine interest and kindness.

The raven haired boy broke out from his trance when (y/n) peeled off the tape from his button up and stuck it tentatively onto Seros nose. He flinched slightly, before his cheeks burned a pinkish color and (y/n) ruffled his soft, black hair.

“I’ll see you later, yeah? Let’s eat lunch together.” And with that, (y/n) walked away, probably to ask the boy with the glasses what his quirk was. Or maybe the girl with the earphone jack ears.

Sero knew that he were probably just being nice, but he couldn’t help but feel a tiny bit special. He felt the genuine admiration flow from his voice as he smiled warmly at him, and complimented him.

He peeled the piece of white tape from his nose, holding it close to his face for a long minute. He chose to ignore the pounding, fluttery feeling in his chest as he stuck the piece of tape onto the edge of his table.

That single, offhanded compliment was how the ever-plain, flushed, Sero hanta, became hooked.

—————

Kenma x reader - I Like You

⚠️warnings - weepy kenma, none

Pronouns - male, he/him

——————

Quiet was always kinda nice, especially for Kenma. Not so much (y/n) though.

Kenma sat propped up against his pillow, playing on his tv with the controller resting on his lap. (Y/n) sat across from him, sprawled out on the bed and staring up at the ceiling. When Kenma said he wanted (y/n) to come over, he expected them to yknow...actually hangout together.

After another minute of deafening silence, with the occasional ring of kenmas video game, (y/n) decided he could take no more. He wanted cuddles, damnit.

“...say, Kenma,” (y/n) heard a pause chime in Kenmas game, taking that as his cue to continue.

“Do you love me?”

There was more silence, before the pudding head looked away bashfully. “Mm...you already know it, right....”

“Well...yes,” (y/n) looked at Kenma, holding a neutral expression. “But I wanna hear your say it.”

There was more silence, before (y/n) took matters into his own hands. He hoisted Kenmas arm up, earning a small yelp, and crawled on top of him, holding his own body weight with his arms as to not crush his boyfriend. He then tucked his arms in between both their chests nimbly once he knew both of them were comfortable.

(Y/n) forced Kenma to look at him, but he shifted his head to the side, slightly whipping his hair onto the boys face. Kenmas hands, having discarded the game controller long ago, brought his hands to wrap around the boys torso in front of him, even if he wasn’t looking at him. (Y/n) eyed his arms gently.

“Y’know...with physical body language and stuff, you have proof you’re liked,” Kenma held his head to the side, but he listened intently at his boyfriends soft words. “It’s super easy to understand.”

“It can be convenient at times, but you can also immediately understand people’s change of feelings. It’s very scary.”

(Y/n) laid his head on Kenmas shoulder, humming quietly before going on with his rant. “But-I told you countless times that I like you properly.”

Kenmas blush deepened with everytime he recalled (y/n) randomly professing his love for him, whether it be on the court, smiling and dicking around like an idiot, or more calmly when he’s walking home with him and Kuroo.

(Y/n) lifted his head to look at Kenma with a heart wrenching smile.

“I do that, because saying ‘I like you’ to the guy I like, makes me super happy!”

He untucked an arm from underneath him and touched Kenmas face scarcely. “Don’t you think that?”

Kenma finally faced (y/n), gripping the arm holding his cheek with furrowed brows and a blush. While he did face (y/n), he didn’t look at him, opting to take interest in a patch of dust just outside his window.

They stayed like that for awhile, until Kenma brought his gaze up the the boy on top of him, who was look at him patiently, with soft, kind eyes.

“I...” Kenmas flushed face couldn’t be any redder. “I like you...”

Kenma kept repeating those words, in various ways such as “I like you so much” or “I..I like you, (y/n)”. He kept at it until his mouth ran dry, all the moisture draining and expelling itself in the form of tears brinking at the corners of his eyes. They taunted him like flames licking at the corners of his pretty face, threatening to spill, if Kenmas throat had not closed up and let him say “I like you” one more time.

Panic hit (y/n) like a truck as he spazzed out on top of his weepy boyfriend. “A-ah! Wait no no no no-I didn’t mean that I was like-mad at you or anything! I was just ranting and stuff oh god-“

He wrapped his arms around kenmas neck, nuzzing into his side with tears forming in his own eyes. “Kenmaaaaa, aaaah Kenma-chan I’m shooo showwyyy!”

Kenma dried his eyes. It was silent again, with the sound of sniffles echoing across the quiet room. Kenma shifted once more, to face his boyfriend, and wrap his arms around him, forgetting about his game or his tear stained face entirely.

“Tears make me tired...” he mumbled, drawing the boy closer. “I want cuddles.”

(Y/n), now happy again, obliged and wrapped his arms and legs around him. The quiet background music of kenmas game played in a non irritating loop, eventually lulling the two boys to sleep.

Hm. I guess (y/n) got his cuddles after all.

——————

[impalas-r-important]

Love of my Life - (10) Taken

Summary: Y/N and the Winchesters have been hunting non-stop amid the beginnings of the apocalypse. Y/N is forced to bring out her dark side

Warnings: Show level violence.

A/N: I've been having so much fun with this series and I love hearing all your feedback. Feel free to leave your thoughts on the series and let me know if you'd like a tag. Thank you all!

Series Masterlist

After a decent amount of time spent resting, Sam had grown stir crazy and found a case not too far from Sioux Falls in a small town called Madison.

Some real estate buff and his family were the next unsuspecting targets of two hungry ghouls, but you and the Winchesters had taken the monsters taken care of before anyone was killed. It was fairly straightforward and simple as far as cases go, aside from one minor slash in your leg. It was late by the time you were finished disposing of the bodies, and you opted for a crappy motel rather than driving back to Bobby’s place. Dean was stitching you up while Sam went to go get food for everyone.

“Do you ever think about getting out of the life?” Dean asked out of the blue. Maybe he was just trying to get your attention off of the needle going in and out of your leg.

“I never used to, but lately it’s been a different story.” You took a sip of Dean’s cheap beer that was sitting next to you and made a disgusted face before putting it back down.

“What changed?” Dean glanced at you quickly, trying to get a read on your emotions, then continued his stitching.

You had a hard time opening up to people, but you wanted to tell Dean how you felt about him. A million thoughts ran through your mind as you debated whether or not to be honest about your feelings. “Well,” you began, “I always thought that hunting was my only option. I was a loner and I figured that if I was going to die, I would die fighting for the good cause or whatever.” You looked down at Dean, so carefully taking care of you. His eyebrows were furrowed as he intently waited for you to continue. You loved how interested he was in everything you said, no matter how silly or mundane. “But then I met this guy who makes me feel like my life is actually one worth living; like maybe the future doesn’t hold darkness and death after all.” Dean tried to hide his smile as he finished up his last few sutures. “I’ve never felt like I was worth much, but he makes me feel like I’m more than just a girl who can throw knives and punches… and I think that I’m falling for him pretty fast.” Dean placed a bandage over your calf and set his needle down. “Maybe you know him? His name is Sam Winchester.” Dean shot you a confused look, making you lose your composure and bite your lip, repressing a cheeky smile. “It’s just too easy to tease you.”

Dean let out a chuckle and stood up, wiping his hands off on a towel. His tongue darted in and out of his lips, leading into a perfect smile as he dove on top of you and crashed his lips onto yours, knocking you backwards on the bed. You slid you hand behind his neck and deepened the kiss.

The door handle began to wiggle, signaling Sam coming back with the food. “That kid has the worst timing. I swear!” Dean grumbled and pushed himself off the bed, marching over to the door and holding it open with an unmistakable annoyance in his eyes as Sam walked in, juggling the food in his arms. Sam, clearly clueless about what he had interrupted, returned Dean’s annoyed gaze.

“What’s your problem?” He shoved a bag of food into Dean’s arms.

Sam had fallen asleep during a re-run of Jeopardy when Dean touched your hand, silently signaling for you to follow him outside to the small balcony. You happily obliged. Once the door was shut, Dean pulled you in close, kissing you with just as much passion as he had before you were interrupted.

“You know what I want?” Dean asked.

“Some nice scotch and an autographed Zeppelin album?”

The lines by his eyes crinkled as he smiled and shook his head. “No, well, yes, but no. I asked you earlier if you ever wanted to get out of hunting.”

You nodded in remembrance.

“I want out, too. I want a boring life, and a farmhouse, with kids and a dog and a fence. The whole thing. I want to have summer barbeques with Sam and his family, and bonfires where we roast s’mores. I want it with you.”

“I’ve never had a s’more.” You admitted, smiling ear to ear at Dean’s confession.

“Me either.” Dean shrugged; his smile just as wide as yours.

That life sounded perfect. “What happened to Dean Winchester the womanizer that everyone warned me about?”

“He’s whipped.” You could see your future in those deep green eyes as he held you close.

“There has to be a porch swing.” You added. “I’ve always wanted a big comfy porch swing.”

“You got it.” Dean slipped his arms around your waist from behind and leaned down to rest his head on top of yours, making the height difference between you two almost comical. Looking out at the night sky, you thought about living a peaceful life in a small town like this one, sitting next to Dean on the front porch in the summer evenings while your kids played in the front yard. These were never things you would have thought of before meeting this man.

“You wanna go make out in your car?” You not so subtly hinted. Before you knew it, Dean was picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder, carrying you back into the room and towards the door. You did your best to mute your giggles and squeals so you wouldn’t wake up Sam.

It had been weeks full of hunting, with the last case being a weird one. You'd found a town that had a working wishing well, powered by a coin that used the power of the goddess Tiamat. There was a life-sized and talking teddy bear, someone won the lottery, a kid had super strength, and the wormy guy had a hot girlfriend. It was pretty far up on the list of odd things you'd encountered.

The post-case morning routine was in full swing with the sunlight streaming through the window, prying your eyes open to face a new day. Dean was lying next to you on his stomach with drool slowly dribbling from the corner of his gaped open mouth. You loved this soft side of the ever-stone-cold hunter. Steam was trickling from under the bathroom door, signaling that Sam was almost done getting ready, so you slid out from under the covers and changed before he reentered the room.

"Morning." Sam greeted, toweling off his wet hair. "You wanna go grab breakfast, or should I?"

"You can go but I'll walk out with you and try to convince the clerk to give us a late checkout. I don't think we're making it out of here on time." You nodded your head towards Dean.

"There's a shocker." Sam grabbed the car keys from Dean's nightstand and put his arm around your shoulders, leading you out the door.

Sam took off and you managed to flirt your way into two extra hours before checkout. You exited the lobby and made your way to the outdoor staircase that led to your room. You lifted your foot to take the first step, then everything went black.

Dean’s POV

I spit out the toothpaste from my mouth when Sam came back in the room with a bag of crappy fast-food breakfast. My favorite.

"Where's Y/N?" I asked as I rifled through the brown bag, pulling out a hash brown. Sam shot me a confused look.

"She's not here?" I shook my head; a pit of concern began to grow in my stomach. "She walked out with me to ask for a late checkout. She was in the lobby when I left."

"I'll go check there. You look around for her."

"Dean, I'm sure she's fine. Maybe she's just stretching her legs." Sam tried his best to relieve my obvious state of stress.

"The clerk was useless. All he said was that she was in there for two seconds and then left." I looked to Sam, hoping he had found a sign of her.

"I got nothing." Sam held his hands up. "Did you call her?"

I pulled out my phone, dialing her number from memory then hitting the call button. Sam sharply turned his head towards the stairs and took off in a jog. He leaned over to look underneath the steps and pulled out Y/N's ringing phone. We exchanged knowing looks and I began to feel queasy.

I slammed the door to our room and began to shove my things into a duffel bag. "Someone took her." The nausea I was feeling was not-so-slowly turning to rage.

"We don't know that. Don't freak out just yet."

Like clockwork, my phone went off signaling an incoming text. "It's a link from an unknown number." Sam frowned and I quickly clicked on it. A web page opened up with a live video feed showing Y/N, unconscious and tied to a chair with dried blood painted down her face from her hairline.

"Son of a bitch!” I grabbed the lamp from the nightstand next to me and threw it across the room. "Someone’s gonna die!”

Your POV

You were sure you’d been hit by a train. Your head was pounding, and it hurt to even open your eyes. As your vision unblurred, you became more aware of your situation. First, you saw your feet tied to the legs of a wooden chair, then realized that your arms were bound behind the back of it. You heard arguing voices in the background and did your best to act like you were still unconscious as you assessed your surroundings and the sticky situation you had found yourself in. You were in a damp abandoned warehouse with old pallets stacked in high piles around you and a webcam sitting in the distance pointed in your direction. Your pocketknife had been taken from you and was sitting on a table across the room next to the two arguing captors. You didn’t recognize the two large men who had abducted you, but it was easy to make enemies in your line of work. There was almost a constant target on your back. Keeping your eyes closed and head hung low, you quickly thought about how you would get yourself out of this mess.

You began to stir, letting your kidnappers know you were awake. They finished their conversation when they heard you.

“Well, well, well. Look who decided to join the party.” The bigger one greeted you.

“I’ve never been much of a party animal. Why don’t you just let me go and find someone more fun?” You snarked.

“Oh, we’re going to have plenty of fun. Don’t you worry.” As he turned his back to you, he pulled a gun from its holster on his belt and waved it in the air as he spoke, clearly trying to scare you. “See, I’ve had eyes on Dean Winchester for years. Just waiting for him to find a pretty little girlfriend to settle down with.”

You glared at him, remaining silent. You could feel the rope that was tied around your hands loosen as you discreetly wiggled your hands around. Lucky for you, your thumbs were double jointed enough that you could pop them in out of place. It hurt like hell but proved convenient when you found yourself being held hostage, which was far more than the average person ever should be. You continued listening to the monologue as you worked your hands free. You had no idea what you’d do next, but you’d figure it out. Right?

“Years ago, he took something from me – my wife. And now, I’m going to make him feel that same pain. Smile at the camera!” He pointed to the webcam sitting a few feet in front of you as he walked over and spoke into it. “Hope you’re watching, Deano! She’s gonna die a bloody, slow death.”

Sam and Dean's POV

The boys were in the car, speeding around town, desperately searching for where you were being held. Sam was looking up old buildings and giving Dean directions as he pushed the Impala to its limits. Dean’s phone was propped up on the dashboard with the live feed still streaming.

“Hope you’re watching, Deano! She’s gonna die a bloody, slow death.”

“Son of a bitch! I swear if you hurt her!” Dean screamed at the screen.

“Who even is that Dean?” Sam asked, looking for any kind of clues that would give away a location.

“I don’t know! I don’t recognize him at all but apparently I made quite the impression on him!”

Your POV

The big guy finished his address to Dean and turned to face you, with teeth and claws bared. Okay, well at least you knew he was a werewolf. Only problem was you didn’t have any silver bullets. You freed your hands completely but held them behind your back as you looked around, planning your next step and replaying it in your head a few times to go over the possible outcomes. You had to move fast because the wolf was walking straight for you.

Oh well, here goes nothing.

Keeping the rope your hands were bound with looped into the back of your belt, you tucked your head in and somersaulted forward, whipping your legs up and over your head hard to smash the wooden chair against the ground, freeing your feet from their binds. One of the broken chair legs had come to a sharp point and you immediately threw it at the onrushing werewolf, hitting him in the thigh. It slowed him down enough that you could duck behind one of the large pallets, narrowly avoiding a bullet being shot at you from the second, smaller wolf. The breaker panel was close by and you ran to it, pulling the main power lever down which turned off all the lights except a dim red emergency light. Game on.

There was an upper level which was essentially a deck around the walls of the square building. You snuck your way to the edge of the room, climbed on a pile of crates, then jumped up and grabbed the railing, pulling yourself to the upper level to get a better idea of the layout of the room below. You stumbled across a pile of rebar, taking the sharpest one to use as protection.

“What are you going to do? Call your boyfriend? Come out and play!” One of the men shouted. “I’m not scared of Dean Winchester or his gumpy brother!”

“Oh, you should be! But lucky for you, they’re not here right now.” You laughed. “See, this isn’t my first rodeo,” you began as you stalked the two wolves from up above, “I’ve been held hostage more times than I can count, and you all make the same stupid mistake. You assume that I’m just some damsel in distress, waiting for a big hero to come save me. But I got news for you, buddy. I’m the one you should be scared of.” You trailed the smaller of the two and made your move as he crouched down behind a large crate. Lowering yourself down from the upper deck, you set the rebar down and silently pulled the rope from the back of your belt, wrapping it around his neck and pulling so hard that he couldn’t make a sound. You released him once you were sure he was passed out, then hog tied him and left him for later, moving onto your next target.

“Then stop hiding and let’s do this!” The anger in your next victim’s voice was intertwined with fear. You had him just where you wanted him, physically and mentally, and took your post where you had a perfect visual of the room.

“See your hand shaking?” You yelled and he glanced down at the trembling gun in his hands. “Cortisol. It floods the body when you’re stressed. Makes your muscles tighter, reactions quicker. But put those two things together, and it makes you sloppy. Unless you learn to love it. Then it becomes a drug that you thrive on. That’s when you become deadly.” As unhealthy as it was, you soaked up the feeling of being the apex predator. You simultaneously hated and loved this side of yourself.

You’d spent years doing combat in the dark, learning to use every sense to take in your surroundings and focus on your target, making you the ultimate threat. You threw a bag full of old newspapers across the room, and he fired a desperate shot at the clatter, moving slowly towards the commotion. Following close, but soundlessly behind him, you held your weapon at the ready. He slowed to look around the corner, only to find the newspapers you had thrown strewn across the floor.

“Boo.” Your voice was eerily calm. He whipped around and you timed your swing perfectly and rammed the sharp rebar through his throat. He fell to his knees, gasping for air and you took the gun from his hand, firing a quick shot between his eyes. The shocked look was still plastered on his face as he fell to the ground, and you let out a huff of relief before moving back to the first wolf you had tied up, making sure he met the same fate as his friend. You didn’t have silver bullets, but this worked out okay.

You tucked the gun into your pants as you walked over to the webcam. “Hey Sam and Dean, I really hope you’re watching this. I’m at some old abandoned supply warehouse. I can hear a train in the background if that helps you find me at all.”

Sam and Dean's POV

“Holy crap, Dean, she broke free.” Sam leaned in and intently watched as you expertly broke the chair and turned off the lights. Dean did his best to watch as he drove.

“What’s happening?!” Dean demanded an update.

Sam shook his head. “I can’t see super well, the lights got turned off.” Sam pulled the screen closer to his face and squinted. “She’s got a piece of rebar I think…”

Dean nodded in approval of your choice of weapon. Sam gave the occasional update when he could make out what was happening.

“She strangled one of them and hog tied him.” Sam raised his eyebrows.

Both boys listened intently as you spoke with clarity, messing with the last wolf’s head as you stalked behind him then stabbed him in the throat.

“Hey Sam and Dean, I really hope you’re watching this. I’m at some old abandoned supply warehouse. I can hear a train in the background if that helps you find me at all.” The brothers heard your message and Sam quickly found your location. Dean turned the car around and sped off towards you.

The boys sat in silence, trying to process what just happened. Dean’s jaw had been clenched since the moment he realized you had been taken and wouldn’t relax until he was holding you safe in his arms. He felt guilty that you had been taken because of him, but at the same time, he felt so proud that you had taken control of the situation with such ease that it was almost scary. No, it was definitely scary. This wasn’t a side of you that he had seen before. He knew he should be concerned, but he loved it.

Sam spoke first. “So… Y/N is terrifying.”

Dean scoffed in agreement. “That’s an understatement.”

Your POV

You had dragged the bodies of the two wolves behind the warehouse where a construction site was filling in a large hole with concrete. You tossed them in, turned on the mixer, and covered them up enough that they would never be found. It wasn’t too long after you’d made your way back to the front of the warehouse that the familiar sound of the Impala speeding closer rang in your ears. Dean drifted around the corner and drove straight to you. He was out of the car before it could even roll to a stop, and you met him halfway as he pulled you into a massive hug.

“Y/N, I’m…” Dean began before you could cut him off.

“Stop. If the next words out of your mouth are anything to do with apologizing or blaming yourself then I don’t want to hear them.” You knew exactly what he was thinking.

“This was my fault.”

“Dean, this is not the first time I’ve been kidnapped by a monster out for revenge, and it won’t be the last. You didn’t send that wolf after me so absolutely none of the blame is on you. Not to mention, I’m a damn good hunter and I know how to take care of myself. Aside from this,” you touched your fingers to the wound on your head where you had been knocked out this morning, “I don’t even have a scratch on me.”

Dean sighed and squeezed you tighter. You’d never had someone there to comfort you after being kidnapped and it felt nice to know that you’d be missed if something happened to you.

“Y/N I’m in love with you.” Dean’s words took you by surprise. “Have been since the day that we met, and I should have told you before now.” You began to respond, but he held up his hand, stopping you. “I gotta say this.” He took a deep breath and continued. “I love that you are so kind and genuine with every person you meet, even if it’s some stranger on the street. I love that you can eat enough chocolate to kill a horse, and I love that aren’t ashamed of that. I love your taste in music. I love that you are the most badass person I’ve ever met. I’m pretty sure you’re some kind of international hitman or something after what I saw today. But more than anything, I love that you make my life one worth living.”

“Are you just saying all this because you’re scared of me now?” You joked. Dean smiled softly as he shook his head. “I love you too, Dean Winchester. I have from the start.”

“Let’s get you back to the motel and make sure you’re okay.” Dean examined the gash just above your hairline where you’d been struck with a tire-iron this morning. “I’m glad you’re safe. I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you.” He kissed you hard, not caring that you were covered in blood splatter.

Sam gently slapped you on the back, clearly proud of you. “Y/N, that was freakin’ amazing. I felt like I was watching an action movie or something. That whole spiel about cortisol was so kick ass!” Sam and Dean both put their arms protectively around your shoulders and led you back to the car. “I’ve never seen anyone take control like that. They were terrified of you. I was terrified of you!” Sam continued to rave as you and Dean exchanged grateful smiles that the three of you had a happy reunion.

Chapter 11

Tags:

@panicking-outside-the-disco

@vicmc624

@akshi8278

[boop-le-snoot]

PARTY FAVOURS I CHAPTER 37

💖 first time reader click here 💖

Five more chapters to go, guys. This is coming to an end 😭 I enjoyed writing it so, so much! In this chapter we have fluff. Literally only fluff and snark, because my babies have suffered enough. And the remainder is gonna be the same. Because fuck pain.

Coulson was mad. Outwardly, of course, he seemed as level-headed as ever, handing out orders and signing papers out left and right, but coming to sit within five feet of him seemed like the worst mistake I had recently made. His phone was ringing practically non-stop and he answered every call, sometimes speaking in different languages I didn't understand, sometimes in rapid-fire English that sounded like Morse code to me.

I'd never been sent to the principal's office but I imagine that's how it feels like. Finally, his shoulders sagged and the breath he took in left his lungs slowly, deflating his body into a tense ball of quiet fury.

"You and mister Brock ruined months worth of investigation and undercover work," The agent finally spoke. "But I can't even be mad at you properly. We've apprehended the main culprit, detained all of his followers except select few that Dr. Xavier took upon himself to handle," His words shocked me; not at all the scolding I was expecting. A deeper part of me was even afraid I'd be taken away and buried under so much red tape not even Tony's seemingly endless money and influence could have gotten me out. "I... Really don't know what more to say." Coulson folded his hands atop the desk, looking over me with a blank look.

"A thank you would be nice," I let my mouth run before the words even really registered in my brain, the cursed thing.

The agent chortled, "Perhaps, we really do owe you a solid one," Before standing up and walking over to the coffee machine in the far corner of his office. "Coffee?" He motioned to a pile of empty cups next to it. I nodded and he set to work. "The guys should be back in two hours, tops," He remarked off-handedly, watching me out of the corner of his eye. There was no way he had missed how my body relaxed into the uncomfortable office chair at the news. "Nobody is hurt except Rogers but I think he'd find how to hurt himself even on recon duty." The man laughed, bringing over two cups of dark, delicious, steamiy hot bean juice. Nhghhgg.

"Steve is a dumbass," I agreed amicably, blowing over the rim of the cup. The stone of coffee on it's own seemed to wake up my previously anxious, half-empty half-racing brain. The past twelve hours were full of urgency, the team being called in for assistance in mere minutes after my and Venom's return to the tower.

They barely had time to wipe their tears and shelf their worries before the suit-up call came, haste hugs and kisses being traded on their way to the quinjet. Coulson showed up not much later after that, a quinjet of his own and a stack of papers for Eddie to fill out, stern instructions for me to follow him and stay glued to his side at all times. I didn't need to ask: it was obvious there was a rat in SHIELD, again. Thankfully, the rat was discovered before they could come and try to increase their odds by doing something to me; I'd hid out in Coulson's office, crashing down into a strange, most likely Venom-induced sleep as footsteps raced past the door.

I'd woken up anxious and disoriented, the owner of the office pacing along the furthest wall and pointedly whispering into his cellphone. The rest was history.

"Your father called," The agent remarked, watching my reaction carefully. "Said to call him back whenever you can."

I was drained, beyond wrung out, and not just from my latest stunt as a parasitic symbiotic alien's host. The past couple of months were a nightmare, an anxiety-riddled, paranoia-spiced mess of a shit show. I was very much looking forward to breathing freely and enjoying my science without hiding my WIPs, enjoying my relationship (s) without fear of being abducted and sending my men into a panicked, destructive spiral.

My voice remained even as I carefully contemplated and spoke my next words. "He can go fuck himself. Him and that harpy of a woman," I sighed: disappointed in my parents, but not surprised. "I'm freshly out of fucks to give. I'm done."

Coulson, if he even was surprised, didn't show it. His expression remained neutral and supportive. "I understand you. There's enough basis for us to aid you in creating a new identity for you, if you'd like," He pushed a stack of papers towards me.

I chewed on my lip in contemplation. It would be handy, sure, I could be rid of the curse that became of my family name and my parents couldn't legally do anything at all to me; on the other side there was my name plastered on several inventions and projects I'd done over the years. In all my years, I was taught that my name is to be my business card.

The decision was obvious. "No, thank you," I looked at him, hoping to convey the sincerity. "I think I will be okay."

He smiled and went back to his paperwork, all but verbally dismissing me. As soon as I finished my coffee and washed the mug, the couch called to me once again and I curled up under the fleece blanket Coulson had thrown over me while I slept, alternating my attention between sneaking glances at his concentrated form and my cellphone and the few meager games it had. There was no signal and no wi-fi access on the Helicarrier. Security reasons, blah blah blah...

A knock sounded out, startling me out of my sluggish thoughts; one of Coulson's hands crawled down to one of the drawers on his right side where I assumed he had hidden a gun. "Come in," He called out, shooting me a pointed look. I sat up, alert.

"M'here to pick up - uh - a Baby," A tired but amused, familiar voice called out. Clint stepped into the room, still wearing his dirty and bloody uniform, and, as my eyes briefly scanned him, the archer appeared to be unhurt save for a few bruises here and there. His eyes landed on me immediately, visibly relieved.

"Waa," I deadpanned indignantly, raising my hands like a toddler would do when they wanted to be picked up. The only thing Clint was missing was a courier's ball cap.

"I assume the mission went smoothly?" Coulson asked, a soft grin and even softer eyes landing on our interaction.

Clint nodded affirmative, walking over and picking me up with ease, disregarding my shierk completely and stopping only when I poked him in the ear - closest appendage to me - in retaliation. His eyes were laughing and his tone was flat. "Caw caw, motherfucker," He announced to me flatly, waving goodbye to Coulson.

We passed more than a dozen agents giving us the biggest side-eye as I dangled over his shoulder, ass up in the air, fiddling with the numerous straps of his gear as Clint power-walked us to the Avengers quinjet. I'd even stuck out my tongue to some dude pointing a finger at us.

My family was already loaded into the vehicle, all in various stages of dirty, bloody and undressed. Coulson's words were true - only Steve sported a wide bandage over his shoulder, neck and head - one look at Bucky and I just knew the Captain would be regretting his stupidity in a few hours time. Even Stephen was there, looking unhurt but very annoyed and tired, as he hovered a few feet off the ground with Cloaky majestically swaying behind him.

"And what the fuck was that little performance for?" I asked once Clint deposited me in the very front row, between a dozing Bruce and a tinkering Tony.

"I had strict instructions from the Hulk," The archer grinned, pushing a few buttons on the dashboard of the vehicle. In seconds, we took off home.

"Oh, hi," Bruce must've heard his green counterpart being mentioned; his eyes cracked open just as I smiled at the scientist and reached over to brush his curly mop of hair out of his face. "M'yes, Hulk is demanding you do not set foot on the ground these days," Bruce was sleepy and warm, so soft when he kissed my hand, I felt my heart swell.

"Gonna spoil me rotten, you lot," I snorted, keeping the happy smile and the warm feeling as Stephen came back from the Astral world, opening his eyes and giving me a grin of his own.

"That's my job," Tony mumbled, still very occupied with a part of his suit. I turned around expecting a kiss; I had to stifle an ugly snort upon discovering one of the parts of his Iron Man suit got damaged and stuck, making a part of the chestplate render one of his arms temporarily immobile. Tony looked like a frustrated toddler building Legos.

"Someone get me a screwdriver and some pliers," I gently pried away the calloused fingers away from the jagged piece of metal, kissing Tony's cheek in the moments until Natasha handed me the required instruments. Tony was free, grimacing in discomfort as he stretched and rotated his arm, in little under ten minutes. "What happened to the nanosuit?" I asked, not remembering the last time I'd seen Tony in one of his older, clunkier creations.

"They had some sort of technopath mutant," He grumbled - I had discovered the source of his ire. "Turns out, Bruce snuck in my special anti-mutant suit I'd made ages ago. Nanosuit got destroyed in seconds and Hulk had to carry me back to the quinjet for a change of equipment," Despite his sour mood, Tony was visibly more relaxed than since the day I confessed I'd been drugged. "Brucie-bear, this is exactly why it remained a prototype."

"It's better to get stuck in a suit than to be a meat pancake on the sidewalk," Used to Tony's tantrums, Bruce merely blinked and continued eating the chocolate that he procured only God knew where.

I locked eyes with Stephen, both of us shaking our heads in almost identical, semi-fond semi-annoyed way. Ah, sweet sweet normalcy.

There were towers of pizza boxes as we arrived in the tower; a couple of agents got all but yeeted out by Tony, with little to no thank you as they had been the ones that arranged the food for us - still, I understood Tony's dislike of the super-secret organisation and merely paid the two for the pizza, politely waving goodbye as they side-eyed Tony with disdain.

Then, I had to tow both Clint and Thor as they attempted to begin eating, still wearing muddy bloody clothes - of course, I did not possess the physical strength required to handle two adult men, so I merely began a small lecture on parasites (Stephen gleefully joined in) and both of them scattered towards the showers like two spooked little first-graders.

I also used the brief moment of stagnation to hug Loki; these days he didn't freeze in surprise but rather warmly hugged me back, whispering something cheeky to me as I buried my face in his chest. Stephen was the one to cough extra-loudly to attempt to separate us - it was, once again, unanimously decided to have a family dinner and a cuddle pile straight after. Food coma had never sounded nicer.

"So, what'd Coulson say to you?" Clint asked curiously as we all settled in, freshly showered and those who needed it, re-bandaged. I was warm and toasty between Tony and Stephen, wearing the former's gym shorts and the latter's hoodie, Bruce's t-shirt underneath it. The scientist himself was drooling onto Tony's shoulder, somwhere between sleep and awareness, glasses askew.

"He basically thanked me and offered me a new identity," I shrugged, polishing off the last of my smoothie and handing the second bottle over to Loki. As usual, no food was wasted and I always had someone to finish my leftovers, especially since Bucky tended to think I could eat as much as him and kept trying to overfeed me like a foie gras goose.

"Congrats, you've been adopted," Natasha snorted from her place between Clint and Steve. Only the red of her hair was visible behind the man-bulk and the blankets.

"Uh," My response was, as always, deeply informative and astute.

"He likes to take in strays," Clint full-belly laughed. "Me at first, then Natasha. He's got a soft spot for Tony and Bucky but he won't admit it."

My eyebrows rose. "That's... That's my job?" I remembered the whole Venom/Eddie situation, our rogue wizard. Coulson was aiming for my place- the audacity! "He can't just do that!"

"And you can?" Stephen's finger booped my nose, making me huff and cuddle up to Tony, turning my butt towards the sorcerer to show him exactly what I thought about his observations. He only laughed harder. "Sounds like someone's a little jealous."

"Okay, boomer," I rolled my eyes. Stephen Strange, a supreme troll is what he is.

"But that's why you love me," He continued as others around us groaned and snorted, too used to us teasing each other about our age difference and my old man kink. Whatever, I got to bang my hot old men anyways.

THE TAG LIST IS NOW OPEN! @another-stark-sub ​ @mostly-marvel-musings  @vozit ​ @littlegasps ​ @pilloclock ​ @shereadsinquiet @downeyreads ​ @hermione-grangers-wife ​ @individualistfem ​ @sleep-i-ness @capbrie @lillsxd @agustdowney @dee-vn @justanotherblonde23 @fanngirl19 @persephonehemingway @softie-socks @schemefrenzy @letsby @cutenessloading @romeo-the-cactus @jelly-fishy-babie @mikariell95 @gladiosamicitias @warrior1-19 @toomanyrobins @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming

[secretlynestaarcheron]

Nesta Ballerina AU ~ should I write a one shot??

One shot:

Nesta stretched her arms above her head, before plopping them back on the comforter, yawning as she opened her eyes squinting at the beam of light peeking through her tiny window. She rips of the comforter, throwing her legs at the side, a new wave of excitement rushing through her.

She throws on a sweater and slips on her slippers as she pushes open the door of her room and enters the kitchen, living room, office, dance studio combo. Mor was already up, moving around the kitchen, bopping her head to the music that was playing from her phone.

“It’s show day!” Nesta yells.

Mor jumps turning to see Nesta. “It’s show day!” Mor screams back, jumping up and down. They had moved to New York together four years ago, going to school to be professional ballerinas, and then auditioning for company after company until they finally got in. “Celebratory pancakes?”

Nesta smiles as she slides onto one of the bar stools as Mor slides a plate in front of her. “Any news about the boyfriend?” Mor asks, stuffing a fork full of pancake into her mouth.

Nesta frowns, reaching forward to grab the jar of syrup, squeezing a little bit on top. She shrugs, “It’s not a big deal, he called me last night,” Nesta says, pushing her food around, “He couldn’t get off work, some important meeting tonight. He’s going to try and come next week.”

Mor bites her lip, reaching over to squeeze her hand, before pulling back and going back to her pancakes. “Issa okay, it’ll be so busy today, you won’t even miss him,” she replies. “I think almond milk lattes from Beans and then we head to the theater early and check everything out.”

Nesta nods, she was going to need all the coffee she can get, their director Amara wanted to do a few more run throughs of the show to touch up any mistakes before the first showing. Nesta’s ankles already ached from yesterday's rehearsal.

“So Rhysand and Azriel are both coming,” Mor responds, looking down at her phone. “Feyre is coming straight after work. I think she’s bringing her loser boyfriend, Tamlin or whatever. Elain and Lucien found a babysitter so they are coming. I haven’t heard from Amren.”

Nesta rolls her eyes. “I called her yesterday, she's coming. She just wanted to pull on your strings.”

There’s a knock on the door and Mor twirls as she moves towards it, Nesta pulling her phone out from her pocket to see a text from Cassian. Good luck tonight, beat all those other bunheads. She smiles, he meant well but as a professional hockey player he didn’t really get the whole non-competing thing.

“I think these are for you,” Mor sing-songs. Nesta quickly hits send on her message back and looks up at Mor who was holding a boutique of flowers. Nesta jumps out of her seat and grabs the flowers, looking for the card. Cassian.

She smiles, “Take a pic of me? I’ll send it to him,” she responds.

Mor grabs Nesta’s phone and snaps a picture. “Okay, now hurry up,” Mor replies, “I don’t want to be late.”

Nesta rolls her eyes as her friend pushes her into her room. “You don’t want to be late to get to the theater early?” she deadpans. Mor gives her a look before slamming the door. Nesta chuckles, sending the picture to Cassian. I’d rather have you but the flowers were a nice touch.

She hits send before putting on her leotard, slipping on a skirt and sweater, she slides on some boots before heading back out into the living room. “Look at this sweet video Elain sent me on snapchat,” Mor says, handing me the phone, it was Nesta niece in a tutu dancing around the living room. “I can’t believe it’s real, I feel like someone needs to pitch me and I’ll wake back up in small town Prythian, Rhode Island in Night Court Dance Studio.”

“Stars, remember how many times Feyre would get yelled at by Morta Queen?” Nesta asks as she grabs her dance bag and wallet and they make their way out of their crabby little apartment and down the narrow hall towards the exit. “She was so uncoordinated.”

Mor laughs as they move down the stairs and onto the busy street, squeezing through the people towards the coffee shop between their apartment and the theater. “And how Morta Queen used to bring her cat to rehearsals, she always wondered why our tights would always be ripped up,” Mor laughs as they clumsily fall into the door of the shop.

“Nesta! Mor! How nervous are you?” the barista behind the counter asks. “I can’t wait to see you guys perform, got my tickets for two weekends from now.”

Mor smiles and goes on a rant about how excited and nervous she is while Nesta can’t help but feel incredibly lucky to be surrounded by so many people that loved and supported her. She looks down at her phone, Cassian hadn’t responded to her last message but he was probably in his meeting.

She was hoping to call him before the show but as Mor thrusts a coffee in her hand and pulls the other out the door she knows that's a long shot. The halls are already bustling with chatter as they move towards their dressing room. Tutus and leotards littering the hall, the halls foggy from hairspray.

“I told you we would be late to be early,” Mor says, giving Nesta a pointed look as they move into the dressing room. Two girls are already inside breaking in their pointe shoes. One of them looks up and smiles, “Amara is already on a rampage, I’d get into practice gear quick,” she warns.

Nesta downs her coffee before grabbing her pointe shoes from her bag and following Mor out onto the stage.

A long draining couple of hours later, Mor and Nesta make their way back into the dressing room falling onto the couch. “No....energy,” Mor groans, her face pushed against a pillow. “My blisters have blisters.”

“Tell me about it,” Nesta says, falling into one of the makeup chairs and rubbing her feet. “Amara said we have ten minutes to get dressed and then be in hair and makeup so I am-,”

“Going to go call the boyfriend?” Mor ques, pushing herself into a sitting position, giving Nesta a taunting smile. “I’ll grab you a snack and bring it to you when we meet up for hair and makeup.”

Nesta grabs her phone and touches her chest. “Have I ever told you how much I appreciate you?” Nesta exclaims as she leaves the dressing room, shoving through the line of girls in puffy tutus until she's in the back alley. She hits his contact and then puts the phone to her ear.

She bites her nail as she listens to it ring. His voice booming through the speakers seconds later: You’ve reached Cassian Monte, you know what to do.

She pauses, wanting to hang up and pretend she never called. It was a pretty new relationship, they went to high school together but never spoke until two years ago when they met at some fancy dinner her school threw. She had absolutely hated him at first as he kept popping into her life.

She finally let him take her out on a date the last time he was in town five months ago. “Hey Cas, um, I am about to go on soon so I thought I’d give you a call-,” she pauses biting her lip. “I hope your meeting went well today.”

There's a pause and she feels like she should say no but she just hangs up. Blowing at a strain of hair that slipped out from her pony-tail. She still had a whole army of people coming to support her. Besides he had sent her flowers this morning, it’s not his fault that he had meetings.

She looks down at her phone as if he was about to call her but when she’s only met with a black screen she swallows and pushes her way back into the building, walking down the crowded halls and into her dressing room where she changed into her costume before finding Mor at a vanity.

“Hey lovebird,” Mor says, as she leaned forward in the mirror to apply mascara. “You didn’t talk long.”

Nesta gave her a tight smile, as she took the seat next to her, two crew members immediately moving to begin working on her hair. “Yeah, well, I have an opening night to get ready for!” she exclaims.

Mor smiles, handing Nesta a stack of cards, “Well wishes from the friends and family,” Mor says, turning away from her to begin speaking to the hairdresser as Nesta fingered through different cards from her friends and family.

I am super excited for you both but did you really have to seat me right next to the love of my life and her douche boyfriend Tamlin? Stars, someone needs to punch him. -Rhys

You both have been working so hard for this, I am so excited for both of you Nesta eyes squint as the handwriting becomes more scribbled and tinier. Sorry. Elain started crying. It’s Lucien. She wants me to write that she is proud of both of you and that you are both role models for Lucy. -Elain and Lucien

“Curtain is up in ten minutes, everyone!” a producer yells, clapping her hands, Mor turns to smile at Nesta.

“This is it,” Mor comments.

The show is a blur of motion and music, Nesta can’t express what she’s feeling when she steps forward to take her final bow. She is speechless when she exits the theater and her friends and family surround her, Elain pulling her into a tearful hug while Feyre gives her a boutique of flowers.

She turns to see a tall man that she had never seen before that Rhysand was causally glaring at. “You must be the boyfriend, Tamlin, we are grabbing drinks after-,” Nesta says. Feyre who stood next to him shakes her head, her eyes wide as if trying to give Nesta a message.

“Drinks?” Tamlin asks, turning to Feyre who immediately stops shaking her head and laughs. “No, uh remember I mentioned having a thing in the morning, so I can’t stay out late.”

Tamlin nods, “I’ll grab us a taxi,” he muses as he moves towards the street.

“You were beautiful, Nes. Mom would have been proud,” Feyre says, pulling Nesta into a hug. “If I ever say I am going on a date with him ever again please knock some sense into me.”

“Feyre, ready?” Tamlin calls.

She rolls her eyes as she moved towards the taxi. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” Feyre yells at them before Tamlin shuts the door and sits in the passenger seat.

“Ick, who sits in the front of a taxi?” Rhysand complains.

Mor bumps his shoulder. “She wouldn’t go on all these terrible dates if you just admitted how you felt already,” she exclaims.

“I have, it’s her turn,” Rhysand retorts.

Nesta rolls her eyes at their stubborness before turning to Elain and Lucien. “One drink? The bar I am thinking is just around the corner,” Nesta says, pulling at her sisters hands as if to guide her.

Elain chuckles turning to look at Lucien who shrugs. “We did tell the babysitter we would be out late,” she says and Nesta let’s out a cheer as she wraps an arm around her sisters shoulder and guides them down the street.

A few of there cast mates were already there celebrating. Elain and Lucien only staying for one drink, while the rest kept going strong.

Nesta catches Mor staring down at her phone before smiling. “Wanna head back soon?” Mor calls over the music.

Nesta nods feeling the exhaustion set in. They didn’t have a show tomorrow but they did have rehearsals and then a show Sunday. She probably should stay out too late.

Mor disappears before coming back minutes later a mischievous smile on her face. “I actually got asked to go home with that pretty blue eyed brunette over there, do you mind?” Mor asks.

Nesta follows Mor finger, it was one of girls on the makeup crew. She wasn’t Mors usual type. “You deserve your happy ending, go for it,” Nesta says. “Text me or call me anytime, okay?”

Mor nods pulling her into a hug. “Text me when you make it home, I might have a package waiting on the doorstep mind bringing it in for me?”

Nesta rolls her eyes but nods, mor was always treating herself to an online shopping spree. She moves through the crowd of sweaty people rubbing arms and onto the almost empty street.

They lived three doors down so it was a quick walk to their apartment. Nesta looks on the doorstep for a package but doesn’t see anything as she slides in the key and twists the knob.

She pauses in the doorway when she flicks on the light and there was a stack of her favorite snacks and a new romcom dvd sitting on the counter, as well as the blankets from both their rooms spread out on the furniture to create a fort.

She raises an eyebrow as she shuts the door, moving deeper into the apartment. Someone in the fort mutters a curse before popping out and giving her a sheepish smile. “You weren’t supposed to be back yet,” Cassian says as he awkwardly gets out of the fort and stands up.

He scratches the back of his neck nervously as he looks at her and she realizes she hasn’t said anything. “I am sorry, is this overstepping? I guess I wouldn’t be too thrilled to have a guy-,”

“No, it’s-,” she pauses as she looks at the fort and she’s the laptop screen beaming through the opening. She drops her bag in the ground and moves quickly to him. She throws her arms around his neck and he tightens his around her waist, picking her up in one smooth motion. “I am just shocked that you're here. No one has done something like this before.”

He smiles as they pull away, she slides down so her feet touch the ground but he’s still holding tightly to her waist. “If you’re tired I get it, you did so well tonight. God, Nes, you looked stunning up there,” he whispers against her temple.

She looks up at him. “You were there? You saw my performance?” She asks with excitement dripping from her voice. She hated being out of the know but Cassian was glad he was able to surprise her.

“My flight was delayed, I almost didn’t make it. That’s why I didn’t answer when you called. I was still up in the air,” Cassian says. “I had to rush to the theater. I was standing all the way in the back, but I could still see you crush it.”

She laughs, pulling away from him and looking up at him seriously. “I missed you, a lot,” she says honestly.

“I missed you too,” he replies, pulling her back into his chest and stroking her hair. When she finally pulls away to shower and change she half expects him not to be there. That her dehydrated exhausted mind created a false reality but she opens her door he’s curled up in the fort waiting for her with a big bowl of popcorn.

Before she crawls in to join him, she looks over as her phone lights up with a new message from Mor. Did you like my package? Nesta smiles sending back a quick response and then crawling in the fort and curling up beside Cassian.