#only took me eleven years lol

[peachsayshi]

// brutally soft // I.

baby daddy!sukuna x reader

tags: non curse au; fluff; tension; reader and sukuna are co-parents; girl dad sukuna; mentions troubled past with sukuna; alludes to significant size different | wc: 1,653 | read this for more context

note: I hope I got the honorifics right lol please correct me if I didn't

dni if your blog is blank / ageless / or are a minor

You didn’t think it was possible for a five year old to render you speechless, nor did you think she was capable of making your former lover blush the deepest shade of tomato red. You part your lips in surprise, stunned as you look down at her innocent expression. She’s sitting on your living room floor, her face perched on her palms with her elbows resting against the coffee table. Her wide eyes drift between you and Sukuna sitting on the sofa, her bottom lip tucked between her teeth as she tilts her head slightly out of intrigue.

“Mama?” She presses, begging for an answer.

Your mouth moves but no words come out. You’re trying to formulate a proper response that’s palatable for her, one that will be enough to subdue any further questions.

Except you’re not quite sure how to answer: “why don’t you and daddy ever kiss?” without making her pry even more into your history with her father.

Sukuna runs his large palms back and forth nervously over his thigh, the muscles on his inked forearms tensing up.

“We kiss,” you fib, because what else are you supposed to say, “of course we do!”

Your daughter’s face falters, and she quirks her brow as sassily as her father when they both mirror the same expression to look at you.

You glance back at Sukuna, giving him an awkward smile because at least you said something all the while he just sat there. 

“No, you don’t…” your daughter insists.

“Yeah, yeah that’s right…we do…of course, we do…” Sukuna pipes in with a mumble, finally catching on to your attempts as he reverts his attention on to his precious girl.

“I’ve never seen it,” she points out with a pout, scolding her father playfully in return.

“That’s because we don’t do it in front of you,” Sukuna remarks. “Besides, who wants to see their parents kiss?”

His daughter rolls her eyes, “all other mommies and daddies do it, except you guys. It makes no sense…”

She’s got the tiniest voice and the softest lisp, but her attitude is entirely her father. She’s bold and blunt, never afraid to say exactly what she’s thinking or to point the obvious.

“Oji-san kisses oba-san in front of Shiro…” she mumbles, dropping both her hands onto the coffee table and crumpling the paper that she is using to draw her little family portrait.

At the mention of his younger brother Sukuna can’t help but grimace. Yuji was incredibly affectionate towards his wife, wearing his heart on his sleeve entirely which just makes Sukuna grumble with annoyance. He’s always been a little envious of his younger brother, who never had to face the world as harshly as Sukuna. With an eleven year gap between them, Sukuna witnessed his parents becoming actual parents. They were young when they had him, and therefore had no clue what it took to raise or take care of a child. Sukuna was caught in the middle of their relationship for most of his childhood, all the while Yuji got to see the peaceful harmony once they finally made up.

“I’m just saying…” your daughter adds on, “…it’s weird.”

You breathe out a sigh in defeat, knowing full well that she won’t let go of the subject until she gets some consolation.

So incredibly stubborn just like her dad.

Without considering the repercussions, you reach your hand out and clutch Sukuna’s chin delicately between your fingers. You tilt his head towards you, noticing the slow register of your touch wash over his face as you lean up to kiss his cheek.

However, you misjudged your aim, because Sukuna tilted his head down in return, and you wound up leaving a gentle kiss on the corner of his mouth instead.

Your lips lingered for only a few seconds, three to be exact, before you retracted and turned towards your daughter.

“See?” You insist, holding onto Sukuna’s chin like it’s evidence between your fingers. “We kiss!”

Your daughter’s mouth forms into a line, clearly unimpressed. The older she’s getting the more she’s picking up on the little things that you guys were hiding so well.

But it’s still way too complicated, and you and Sukuna haven't even discussed how to approach this yet.

“I guess,” she says with a shrug of her shoulders, before returning to her drawing.

You didn’t even know that Sukuna has his focus still locked onto your lips tuntil you turn to look back at him.His gaze is soft, the muscles of his handsome features melting between your touch. There’s a hint of sorrow that twinkles in his eyes, and when you tuck your bottom lip between your teeth apologetically, you notice that you left a lipstick stain in your wake.

“Sorry,” you mouth, and carefully use your thumb to swipe over the mark.

But your heart seizes quickly, your spine growing still when Sukuna mildly inches forward like he’s about to go in for another kiss.

You remember what it was like to kiss him. He was an exceptionally good kisser, even though he probably doesn’t know it himself. You’ve spent hours losing time locked against those lips, allowing his tongue to taste every last drop of you.

There’s a twitch in your chest, everything around you going quiet. Heat pricks the back of your neck when his lips draw just a breath away from yours, and you swear to yourself that he grazed over your mouth with a featherlight touch.

But Sukuna stops suddenly, catching himself.

“Be right back,” he whispers, his voice dipping so low you can’t help but clench your thighs together.

He shoots up from his seat, detangling quickly as he brushes you off, and leaving you to stare aimlessly at his broad back and overbearing muscles. Your sofa suddenly appears a lot larger with all that free space.

You press both hands to your cheeks, licking your lips as the apprehension runs through you as a cold chill. You can’t even remember when was the last time you kissed the father of your child, but you didn’t think that such a small act would have such a lingering effect.

You thought you were over this. Over him. That chapter was closed a long, long time ago.

You look up at the cause of this unexpected interaction, your daughter’s short attention span keeping her focused on her doodle while she hums to herself.

Sukuna returns with his head held high a few minutes after, and plops down on the sofa with his weight prompting you to bounce lightly in place.

That’s when you felt it, a hint of cold hitting your brow like a tiny droplet of rain.

Your furrow your brows then notice that your Sukuna’s hair is actually damp, with little tears trickling down the back of his neck.

The tips of his ears are still burning red.

You part your lips in awe.

Sukuna is a master at making you blush. At making any woman blush, frankly. But you don’t think you’ve ever actually seen that reaction on him.

It stuns you how much it suits him, and surprises you even more of just how cute he looks trying to hide it.

“Daddy, can you help me?” Your daughter asks, finally focusing back on the two of you while her finger draws out an outline of what appears to be two arms.

“Whatever you want, Princess…” Sukuna responds, and obediently gets up from his seat.

He perches himself on the floor, the size difference between him and your little girl doing nothing to help the sudden hammering in your chest.

He’s so, so gentle with her.

She crawls onto his lap, holding the sheet of paper in her hand, before setting herself back up while sitting on his thighs.She points to the drawing with her index finger, “I don’t know how to draw your tattoos…”

Sukuna chuckles, a glimpse of his smile making you to scratch the warmth off the back of your neck.

He picks up a black pencil, “you’re a better artist than me, kid,” he states honestly, “not quite sure what I can do to help…”

She wraps her arms around his neck, leaving her dad to carry on the effort.

“I’ll explain the shapes and you draw it!” She says with a kiss to his cheek.

It’ll never cease to amaze you how easily he bends to her will. Sukuna had no interest in any of this, and was obstinate in every sense of the word. Nothing could turn that man into a docile cat except when it comes to your little girl. He’s present with her, this part of him just so different, and even after five years it still feels a tad unfamiliar.

There’s a slight tightness in your throat because this is all you wanted when you were together. After the break up and surprise pregnancy, you didn’t realize how hard he took it when you told him that you have zero expectations of him being involved in your daughter’s life. You were just informing him out of moral obligation, but something switched on inside him after that.

It may not have been for you, but he made that change for her, and seeing them together now, you recognize just how much that man loves his little girl.

That fact alone makes you undeniably happy.

So happy you wish you could give him a real kiss for it.

Your daughter moves to pat his head in gesture of a good job as Sukuna follows her instructions to the T, but her faces scrunches with disgust when she threads her fingers between his locks.

“Daddy, why is your hair wet?”

Sukuna brings his free hand to massage the back of her scalp, “Pay attention to the drawing, missy…and stop asking so many damn, I mean uh-darn questions…” he responds, leaving a kiss on her brow and doing everything in his power to make sure that he avoids looking back at you.

tag: @selarina @yuujispinkhair @blush-bambi @tojislittleprincesss

[dreamingofmarauders]

You Belong With Me

James Potter x Reader

Summary: In which despite having rejected you, James feels the uttermost jealousy of someone else being near you

Warnings: Jealousy, rejection, angry/a bit possessive James Potter, regret, arguing, cussing, crying (Let me know if I missed anything)

Word Count: 1.4k

A/N: I honestly don’t even know what I was thinking then, but this idea just randomly hit me so here it is lol. Hope you enjoy! ❤️

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•

James tightened his hold on his glass of Firewhiskey, his gaze piercing dangerously as he watched you get too close with another guy. He clenched his jaw, downing his drink in one go before he tossed the glass back on the table, rage filling his whole being.

He had no right to feel like this. After all, he was supposed to be in love with Lily, not you. At least, that's what he kept trying to tell himself but as he watched you drape your arms around a Slytherin, both swaying to the music, he felt nothing but pure hatred for the male and absolute jealousy.

You should be in James' arms, not his.

James clenched his jaw, shutting his eyes as he inwardly groaned, as it came back to him once again, the memory so vivid it was as if the young Potter was reliving it once again.

You and James leaned against the railing of the Astronomy Tower, your eyes fixated upon the captivating night sky. You turned your head to look at the hazel eyed beside you, who gazed up at the twinkling stars with a soft smile sitting upon his lips. You and James had been best friends since you were children and your bond only deepened during the many years you spent together at Hogwarts. It was a weekly tradition for the two of you to stargaze together.

Your heart fluttered at the content expression on James' face, nothing but adoration in your eyes for him. Over the years, you didn't realize when but you had fallen for your best friend.

You were in love with James Potter.

However you kept that secret locked away in your heart, knowing James had been chasing after the redhead, Lily Evans, since you all were eleven.

Now as you admired James, the ways his lips curved or the twinkle in his hazel eyes, or his always messy black locks, or the way a dimple appeared whenever he smiled, the words slipped past your lips before you could stop them.

"I love you."

Your eyes widened with horror as James' rounded at that as well, turning to look at you in surprise.

You had mentioned many times how much you loved him but what caught James off guard this time was the way you spoke the words, the emotion behind them indicating a whole other meaning, a confession of you being in love with him.

"What?" He breathed out.

You sighed, knowing it was useless to deny it.

"I am in love with you, James."

"No." James uttered out in horror, taking a step back, causing a crack to form in your heart. "You can't be in love with me. I-I only love Lily."

Despite knowing the truth, your heart still shattered at the words that passed his lips, your eyes brimming up with tears.

Why had you even dared to hope he may reciprocate your feelings?

"I love Lily, Y/n. I could never love you." He said, as the tears slid down your cheeks. "I'm sorry." And with that James spun on his heels and hurried away, leaving you to stare after him, utterly heartbroken.

You had destroyed your own relationship with James, severing off the threads that had bonded the two of you together since forever.

You angrily wiped your face.

Why did every force in the universe always have to work against you?

The two of you haven't spoken since. James seethed as he watched Rosier pull you closer, but what really ticked him off was that your gaze had connected with his, and he knew that you knew what James was really feeling as you observed his very red face, before you inched your face closer to the Slytherin's.

That was the final straw for James Potter.

He immediately took a step in your direction but a hand latched onto his arm, rooting him to the spot.

"Mate, calm down."

James' furious gaze flickered to see who had dared to stop him, his eyes finding the silvery grey irises of his best friend.

Sirius knew exactly what had transpired, all the Marauders did. After all, you had been a fifth of their group, and your absence had impacted them all.

"Prongs, you need to calm down." Sirius instructed again, carefully analyzing James' facial expression.

This only angered the young Potter.

"Stay out of this, Black." He spat out and shrugged off Sirius' hand, ignoring his friend's protests.

James strutted over to you with nothing but fury and jealousy blinding him. When he reached you and Rosier, he shoved the Slytherin back, who shot the Gryffindor a death glare, grabbed your wrist and dragged you through the crowd of bustling and dancing teenagers, ignoring your protests. He finally dropped his hand from you when the two of you were in the silent corridor outside the Gryffndor common room.

You glared at James, who was staring back at you intensely, his jaw clenched.

"What the fuck, Potter?!" You yelled.

"What the fuck were you doing with that Rosier?! You were doing it on purpose!" James retorted back, silencing you for a mere moment before your face hardened.

"I can do whatever the hell I want, Potter, you have absolutely no right over my life!" You screamed at him, throwing your hands up in anger. "You told me you don't love me, you pushed me away, so how in the world do you get to decide what I can do and whom I can be with?! Why does it bother you so much?!" You shrieked at him.

However the next second, your back was pressed against the cold stone wall as James closed the distance between the two of you, caging you in his arms as his lips pressed to yours. You tried to resist, knowing this wouldn't end well, but the feel of him on you ignited a fire that yearned for more and your hands slithered to lock behind his neck, as you both poured out all your emotions into the kiss.

When the need for oxygen became great, the two of you pulled away, James placing his forehead against yours, as the both of you panted.

"This isn't fair to me, James." You breathed out, your eyes brimming once again. "You can't say you want Lily but then not let me live my life either." A tear slid down your cheek as your voice became heavy with emotion.

James lifted his head back, raising his hand to softly brush away your tears, placing a kiss on both of your cheeks before he peered into your y/e/c eyes, his gaze so intense that it seemed he was looking right into your soul.

"I am so sorry, love. I was wrong. I kept telling myself that it's Lily, but," He shook his head rather vigorously, "I've missed you more than ever since that day. My heart keeps calling out to you and I tried to push it down, but seeing you with another made me fully realize that there is no one else I would rather have than you." He confessed, placing his hand on your cheek, relishing in the way you leaned into his touch.

He continued, whilst lovingly caressing your cheek.

"My life is colorless and dull without you, y/n/n. I want you, darling. I... I love you." James uttered out, watching your face flood with astonishment, noticing the way you had stilled in his hold. Knowing he couldn't lose your attention, he went on, "I know I was an absolute jerk to you that day and today, but I promise you my love, if you give me the chance, I will spend the rest of my life, spend each day proving to you how much I really do care for you." James professed, his heart pounding heavily as he awaited your response.

You stared at him in complete shock, eyes round, making James afraid that he had truly lost you for good. However, a rush of relief flooded James' body when your beautiful lips slowly curved up into a tiny smile.

"I'll give you one chance, Jamie, just one."

The biggest smile you had ever seen graced James' face at your answer, and he cupped both your cheeks, "Thank you! Thank you!" He lifted you off the floor, spinning you around before he gracefully set you back on your feet, his arms going to settle around your waist. "I promise you that you will not regret this, darling."

And James Potter lived up to his promise, as each day after that, he made sure to show you how much he truly did love you, and Merlin were you above the clouds to have landed the man of your dreams, disbelief still clawing at you from time to time that James Potter loved you back just as much as you loved him.

•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•

[howlett-n-morgan]

More Than Words

1. Familiar Stranger

Logan Howlett x OC!Reader

Series Summary: Having lived for over two hundred years and never having the privilege of skin to skin contact is the biggest burden imaginable, until someone comes along with the healing ability to withstand the touch of death.

Chapter Warnings: This might be a lot for the start of a series but: mild language, canon typical violence, mention of a witch trial, burning at the stake, death, mutant experimentation, and a depressive episode briefly described. Logan's claws come out lol... I think that's it but let me know if I missed anything.

Chapter Summary: Nightmares that were long forgotten come crawling back, seemingly without meaning, until everything falls into place with the arrival of a familiar stranger... and he gets nightmares, too.

Word Count: 6.5k

And now there was this Logan character. “Bulletproof, huh?” he didn’t seem skeptical, just unimpressed.  “And fireproof,” you added with a small smile, turning and going down the hall to find the next open room. It was the one besides yours, and yes, you absolutely did that on purpose. “Forgive me for being forward… but I think I know you.” “You know me? Doubtful.”

The X gene -  typically found in people with mutant family history - begins showing itself around the time of adolescence, usually blossoming in young teenagers. You remember the first time you realized there was something wrong with you. The year was 1780.

You were only thirteen, and were showing signs of something no one could put a finger on. The first instance was doing laundry with your cousin, Sarah, and dipping your hands into the water the same time that she did. Her hands started to burn, and she pulled her fingers from the basin quickly, only to find her hands were fine, and the water wasn’t even that hot. You thought that maybe it was a fluke, but then the second occurrence took place. 

You’d been playing near the lake with some of your friends on your twentieth birthday, when a bolt of lightning struck you. Your friends gathered nearby to see if you were alright, but were baffled completely to find you standing there as if nothing had happened. 

That was the day that time stopped, and you never grew older. 

These were things that told you there was a difference within you, but you never knew how lethal it actually was until it reached its full potential. You only wish you’d been given a warning. 

The day it all went for worse, and your life became hell, was actually a very sunny day. You woke up the same, got dressed the same, even went out back to milk the cow… but the second you touched her, she fell limp, collapsing to the ground. Your eyes widened in terror when you realized the lovely farm animal had lost her life in that split second, unable to move, or breath. 

You ran back inside to tell your mother, but you were not careful, because how could you have known it was your fault? How could you have known your body was capable of this?

Your mother laid a hand on your shoulder to comfort you, and you brought your hand to meet hers. She too fell instantly, and it was then that you realized. 

Your touch is death.

You clung to your mother, the last person you were able to touch, crying and wailing out. 

That was the first of your crimes, but many men made the mistake of coming into contact with you that day, and it stands to reason why you have been sentenced to death. Witchcraft being their assumption on your methods, and mass murder being the charge.

You almost believed them. Almost thought that something evil was possessing you, making you do wicked and unholy things… 

Standing tied to the stake by a man with thick leather gloves, all eyes were on you, waiting for your atonement. You saw every torch that was burning, closing your eyes and accepting the punishment. You killed your mother, and eleven men. There were enough witnesses to send you straight to your grave. You waited for the flames, and felt the heat when they finally set the fires, quickly approaching you. When your eyes opened, you could see the wall of fire over the hay bales, nearly ten feet tall and at every corner. It crawled up by you and then-

You sat up in your bed, sweat dripping from your brow, and the digital alarm clock going off in your peripheral vision. 

It’s just another dream… but you haven’t had it in years. 

You treat it like the rest, going about your morning like it never happened. You’d discuss it with Charles later, he seemed to know what your nightmares meant most of the time. He knew your mind better than most, and could enter with a single thought. 

Downstairs, the commotion was rowdy, but you went ahead through the crowded space carefully and slipped on your favorite pair of forest green gloves, buckling the cute straps on the back as you made your way to the kitchen. Ororo had just brewed some coffee, and Scott was carrying two plates towards the doorway when you entered. 

“Smells good,” you said, smiling at them both, and going for a mug from the cabinet. 

Scott stopped short, turning on his heel to ask you a question. 

“I forgot about this yesterday,” he started, looking over in your direction through his red shades. “Can you take a look at the School’s Enrollment system when you get a chance? I couldn’t add a new student and I’m not sure why.”

You nodded, pouring the coffee and giving him a look of confidence. “I’m sure I can fix it, probably just the computer again.”

“Thanks,” he smiled, going to leave again, but then remembering one more thing. “Oh, and Jean loves that book you lent her, she’s been up late reading.”

“I knew she would… if she wants anything else, my library is always open,” you replied jokingly.

He left afterwards, taking his plate of breakfast and his wonderful girlfriend’s out of the room. 

“You do too much, y’know?”

You looked at Ororo, her eyes just barely peeking over her own mug. 

“I like to keep busy,” you shrugged, taking a sip of the coffee and finally letting yourself settle into the morning. “And it’s not too much if I can help you guys.”

“You know that’s not what I mean… you’ve been looking exhausted.”

“Wow, thanks.”

“I’m not being critical, I’m concerned,” she said, stepping to lean against the kitchen island so she could look at you straight on. “If there’s something going on, you can tell me.”

Yes, you could tell her. She and Jean were the closest thing you’d had to a sister in years. 

“The nightmares are back again… the last few nights have been a little rough.”

She pushed away from the counter, the look on her face reading confusion and worry. “I thought you were doing better.”

“I was,” you drank more coffee, eyebrows raised. “I don’t even know where they’re coming from. Some of these dreams I haven’t had for over fifty years. Usually they’re only about…” 

“Charlie,” she finished for you when you trailed off. You nodded, your head falling forward a bit at the mention of his name. You hadn’t dreamt of him for a while, not even good things.

“I need to visit the professor after class, he can usually tell me what’s going on.”

“It’s probably best. Those dark circles will only get worse, believe me,” she joked, gesturing to her own eyes, a bit worn with exhaustion from working late this week. 

“I’ll let you know how it goes,” you spoke with a small grin, finishing off your coffee in a big chug before rinsing the mug out in the sink. “Have a good class.”

“You, too.”

-

Looking out the window of Professor Xaiver’s office, you recalled the events of your nightmare, trying to put yourself back in the situation to see it clearly. It wasn’t easy, to relive these memories, even worse when they plagued your unconscious state… but Charles would know what it was about. He always did. 

“Tell me again, first the cow, and then your mother?” He squinted, trying to put pieces together. 

“Yes, I went out to milk the cow in the morning, like always,” you paused, the green grass outside the mansion reminding you of the pastures you lived by. “I touched betsy first, then my mother inside the house.”

All the little details should have painted a very vivid picture, but for some odd reason, nothing was coming together for Charles. He couldn’t see how this dream equated with your life as it was, and why it plagued you now. 

“I’m sorry to say it, my dear, but this may just be a regular nightmare. I cannot, from what you have told me, recognize any pattern or significance.”

“There has to be something… I haven’t had this dream in years,” you argued, unwilling to give up when you know he’s the only one who can tell you. 

He paused, closing his eyes and raking through the files of your mind to try and feel the impact of a cause… but found none. “I’m afraid the only thing I can offer is a theory. Your mind is subconsciously reminding you of your powers, what they mean. You’ve long since learned to control them, so I cannot imagine it is because of self doubt. Whatever it is, you may just have to wait and watch for more signs.”

“More signs? Like more dreams?”

“Something of that sort, yes. Until then, I’m sorry I could not help you.” He rolled his chair towards the door, following you out and into the hall. He had a meeting with Hank, and couldn’t afford to miss it. 

“It’s not your fault… I’m the one who should be sorry. I’m always annoying you with problems that don’t have anything to do with you,” you joked slightly, walking alongside him until he met his destination.”

“And I am always happy to assist you.”

“I know,” you ducked your head, stopping at the door way he entered. “But I am grateful.”

“Take that gratuity and focus it on yourself. You need to rest, you look like a raccoon.”

You chuckled, closing the door for the man, and walking down towards the kitchen again. You only needed a small pick me up before you would inevitably take a very long nap. You’d been going on a few hours of sleep each night due to the grading of homework, and the bad dreams only made the nights worse. You were somehow thankful not to wake up screaming before your alarm went off this morning. 

You headed upstairs to crash, only to find a note in your room from Jean. 

Thanks for the book, I finished it today… gonna need the next one soon. - J

A small smile spread across your face when you saw the book had already been put back on your shelf, neatly placed among the organization you normally kept it in. 

Your bookshelf spanned an entire wall, nearly becoming like a second library to the mansion for whosoever needed it. 

You didn’t necessarily love reading, but you did love knowledge, and books were one of the only ways to obtain such a tricky thing. 

Truth be told, you didn’t like a lot of learning methods, but again, you craved to know everything you could, to be not only educated but able to have a brain that could stand the tests of time. So far, it’s done a pretty decent job. Having been alive for over two hundred and thirty years came with some perks, one being, you can go to college as many times as you want, with only a different ID, and practically nothing can stop you from earning as many degrees as your heart desires. 

When Charles first met you, he knew you were a mutant, but more than that, he knew you had the aptitude of a scholar. It was no wonder you excelled in his training. If only you just attained his powers of neurological exploration, there would be no stopping you. 

You flopped backwards on the bed, looking up to your wall of diplomas and degrees. Master’s in Technological Sciences, Bachelor’s in Archival History, a silly little Associate's in Music Theory, mainly because you were feeling artistic, and lastly, the certification for practicing Law in the state of New York. You didn’t even go to law school, you’d just been bored for a while in the seventies, and the bar wasn’t that hard to pass for someone that’s been around since the first laws were written into the constitution. 

All these degrees, all these years of mastering different types of knowledge, and yet you felt completely in the dark about your own mental state. You couldn’t even figure out what your own dreams meant, or why they were back in the first place.  

You passed out cold while raking your mind for possibilities, finding none along the way.

It was a dreamless sleep this time, and for that you’d be grateful, earning some uninterrupted rest for the first time in weeks, not having to worry about waking up in a panicked sweat again. 

You were supposed to take a thirty minute cat nap… maybe an hour at most. Looking at the clock as you came to, it was 6 pm, meaning two and a half hours had come and gone, and you had missed much of the after school activities.. 

“Shit,” you muttered to yourself, climbing out of the sheets and running to the bathroom to become a bit more human looking. 

You'd run down the stairs to find the usual amount of commotion, but none of the adults were here, just the kids. 

“Bobby?” You asked, making him halt his walk towards the next corridor. “Do you know where everyone is?” 

“They left about a half hour ago. Something came up,” he turned to leave but stopped throwing a line over his shoulder. “Almost forgot… they left you in charge.”

“Great,” you mumbled, nodding to him in thanks for the information. 

You were fine dealing with the kids, but being the sole adult present in a room full of on edge teenagers put you under some stress. The one person in this entire mansion that could kill someone with a single touch was left responsible for the safety of these younglings? It was a bad idea to begin with, but you took a deep breath, knowing you had to until they were back. 

You only wondered what happened that they were gone so quickly, without a chance to tell you themselves. 

The only way to control a mutant child is to just not even try, so with knowing you were now heading the household until everyone returned, you decided to just go and kick back in the main entertainment room. The more authority is pushed, the more the kids would resist. So you didn’t push at all, just started a game of uno with some of the kids. 

“This isn’t that serious, just lay down a card!” John scolded the younger girl beside him, watching her shuffle through practically half the deck that she had in her hands. 

“I have them organized, I’m looking for the blues,” Kitty explained, ignoring his futile attempts at winning faster. “If I’m gonna lose, I’m gonna take my time.”

“If you had a four or any color, that would have worked, too,” you shrugged, but ultimately let her keep shuffling through until she found a card she was satisfied with. 

“Aha, reverse. And I know you just played your last blue card,” she mocked John, watching him roll his eyes and begin to draw new cards. 

You laughed and little, seeing his deck grow bigger until he found a blue one. 

“Well, that’s uno for me,” you said, laying down a blue five and waiting for it to circle back to you again. “Sorry, John.”

“Kitty I swear, change the color,” he begged, hoping there was something that could salvage the game for him. “She’s gonna win if you don’t.”

“I’d rather let her win, then we can start over,” she gestured to the large amount of cards in her hand, completely stacked with practically every color of the deck. 

“Don’t be so competitive, it’s just uno,” you laughed, trying to lighten his mood over such a silly thing. 

“It’s not just uno, you win at everything…” he trailed matter of factly, giving you a slanted look through his eyebrows. “It’s impossible.”

“I’ve been around a while longer than you have, maybe I’ve just picked up some tricks.”

“With uno?” He scoffed, finally coming to his senses and laughing a little. 

“Maybe,” you smirk, laying down your last card and going out. “But there’s another game for ya.”

“Like I said, impossible.”

You smiled, watching them throw their hands into the pile so you could reshuffle and deal again. This may or may not have been the third game in a row. And yes, you tended to be good at the other board games kept in the entertainment room’s cabinets. 

“Wanna go four for four.?” You asked, already knowing they would play with you, though you beat them every time. 

But then you could feel something in the air, a tension that was coming from outside somewhere. You wondered if it could be a possible intrusion, so you stood up and looked out the window, the sun completely down by now. 

“What’s wrong?” Kitty asked, standing up alongside you to try and figure out what you sensed. 

It was growing, more anxious, and you realized then that it wasn’t an intruder at all, because the anxious energy was radiating off of familiar presences. 

“Something happened,” you rushed to the back door, watching as the jet landed, sinking back into the earth where it usually came up from. The basketball court  closed over top of it, and you could see the trees and grass and bushes become still when the winds calmed down. “You’ll have to play this round without me.”

“What happened? Where did they go?” 

“I don’t know, let me find out. Make sure no one burns the house down, I’ll be back.”

And you rushed to the elevator, going down beneath the mansion to find the X central base. You heard the commotion as soon as you stepped off, all things pointing to the medical bay at the end of the long lit stretch. 

Your legs carried your faster than they normally would, getting you there in seconds. 

“Scott?” you called as soon as you saw him. “What’s going on?”

“Two new mutants, one in critical condition,” he began, pointing to the outline of a man on the surgical table, Jean doing her best to work on him with the help of Ororo on the side. “The other is with Charles, he’s trying to help her calm down, but she’s pretty shaken up.” 

“Is there anything I can do?” 

“Tell the kids, make sure they don’t panic?” he offered, and you nodded. You can’t touch anyone, so it was unlikely you could aid in either of their situations currently. “Maybe leave out the part where there’s a mutant in critical condition. We still don’t even know why they were attacked.”

“Was it a human group?” You asked, eyes flitting between both corners of the med bay. The chaos was still going on, everyone’s movements were rapid, and the girl in the corner was still crying in fear. 

“No, it was them…”

“Oh,” you understood right away what he meant. Eric and his small gang of misfits that refused to coexist with the humans. They believed mutants were superior, and therefore should not have to conform to any nation’s rules or mandates. You partially understood them from a fear aspect, not wanting laws against mutants to be passed, or mistreatment of mutants for their abilities, but the way they go about it is always wrong, and harmful. They are clearly even willing to hurt other mutants to get what they want. “Are we any closer to finding them?” 

“Nope,” he sighed, scrolling through the tablet in his hands and trying to find out if the tracker he placed actually amounted to anything. He would bet not, since the signal wasn’t even coming up. “Lost ‘em in the snow…” 

“Snow?” You turned to him quickly, “where the hell did you guys go?” 

“It’s a long story, you missed it when you were napping,” he partially joked, going back to his task. “I’ll fill you in later, just go make sure the kids know we’re fine.” 

“Okay,” you nodded, turning on your heel and leaving. You didn’t run to the elevator this time, shaking off the feeling that something big was coming. You didn’t know what or why you felt it, but it was creeping up on you since you stepped off the elevator. 

-

The next morning, the entire house was buzzing with the excitement of new recruits. You’d yet to meet them, but felt their energy in and around the house, coming and going from different rooms when you started to go about your day. 

You knew that the time for introductions would come eventually, and likely when classes were over. 

Everything had been nearly the same as the day before, except Scott didn’t have a computer problem that needed solving, so you actually got done with your other work pretty quickly. You went to get the mail that Hank always just left on the entryway table, trying to sort through so you could drop it off at each person’s individual rooms. 

“Alice?” 

“Yeah?” you mumbled without turning around, hearing Jean’s voice.

“I want to introduce you to some people. These are our new guests. Rogue, and Logan.” 

You’d turned around during Jean’s introduction of the two new recruits, however short it was, like she needed to leave them with you. You understood this was a vital time for the team, and distractions weren’t welcome… but she’d only just now handed off said distraction, and boy was it one to behold. The girl was sweet looking, about fifteen if you had to guess, but the man? You look him over once and immediately you have a flash of deja vu. Dark hair, a soft grin, and pretty hazel eyes. He’s much taller than you, and you have to look up to meet his stare.

You smiled to them, giving a nod and placing your hands behind your back in the case they might want to shake one. 

“Rogue has a mutation with similar effects to yours. If she touches someone for even a few seconds, they could die.”

You furrowed your brows when looked down at the sweet girl before you. What a sad thing to share with someone. You can see her whole life ahead of her, and the things she will have to endure just as you did, and it makes you feel compassion. 

“I’m very sorry to hear that, I know how hard it can be,” you told her. She smiled and nodded this time, just as you did but in return. She seemed to be a shy thing, head dipping every so often to appear smaller than she was. 

“Could you show them the open rooms? I’ve got to be back with Charles in a moment,” Jean rushed through, seemingly pressed for time. You were only all too happy to take them off her hands. 

“Of course. Let me know what happens in there, will you?” 

She nodded, squeezing your clothed shoulder before turning on her heel and heading down the corridor. 

“So you’re like me?” Rogue asked, trying to make conversation now that she knew you had something in common. 

“A bit, yeah,” you cocked your head in one direction, getting them to follow after you. “My body is made up of a few types of radioactive energy. One is regular matter, the other is anti-matter, but the third is something completely unknown to the human or mutant race.”

“How does it work?” She followed you up the stairs, and Logan did, too. He was listening, but didn’t give off the vibe that he was interested. 

“Well, the instant I touch anyone, they die. The professor was the one who finally helped me learn to control the energy, though. Now I can use it to shield myself and others from dangerous attacks.”

“Attacks… you mean like guns and stuff? Are you bulletproof?!” 

You smiled at her endless curiosity, boundless in asking questions that you barely even knew the answers to. 

“Pretty much, yeah. Bulletproof, fireproof, everything really.”

“Whoa…” she trailed, and luckily, to stop the flow of questions, you turned down the hall and opened a door to an empty room. 

“This one’s for you,” you smiled at her and let her walk through the doorway, almost immediately becoming more settled now that she had a place to stay. “Let me know if you need anything, I’m at the end of the hall.”

“Thank you.”

A smile, and a small dip of your head as you closed the door allowed her to relax. 

And now there was this Logan character.

“Bulletproof, huh?” he didn’t seem skeptical, just unimpressed. 

“And fireproof,” you added with a small smile, turning and going down the hall to find the next open room. It was the one besides yours, and yes, you absolutely did that on purpose. “Forgive me for being forward… but I think I know you.”

“You know me? Doubtful.”

“No, I definitely know you,” you opened the door for him, but didn’t intend on leaving yet. You didn’t say anything in front of the girl, but the moments you turned around downstairs, you recognized him from somewhere. The downside of living for over two hundred years is that maybe you didn’t always remember people years down the line. “The question is, how did I meet you?” 

“Look, doll… I only have the last fifteen years of my memory, and all I really know is that I’m not human, and I can’t die either,” he paused, taking a step closer, but keeping a safe enough distance as to not make contact with the previously mentioned radioactive skin. “But even if I remembered before that, you’re too young to have met me.”

“Young?” you raised your eyebrows, not to mock or belittle him, but just shocked he would make such an assumption, especially knowing the school that he’s at right now. 

“Yeah, young. What are you, nineteen?” 

“Two hundred and thirty three this year,” you answered with a dull expression of normalcy. 

For a minute, he didn’t know if you were being serious, but upon searching your face for more indications, he found nothing that told him otherwise. 

“Really…” he reacted skeptical this time. “Got an ID?”

The joke was mildly entertaining, but if what he said was true, he wouldn't be able to tell you when or how you met. It was a dead end, and there were much more pressing matters downstairs.

“Let me know if you need anything. That's my door,” you pointed to the one beside his, and he nodded with a smirk. You absolutely did that on purpose. 

“Will do.” 

He didn’t bother you the rest of the evening, but you kind of wish he had… 

-

Your cell was cold and binding, your claustrophobic tendencies getting worse with every day you spent here. Your body was broken, your legs crumbling beneath you whenever you would try to stand. 

There was nothing you could do to help the pain, your energy was depleted from everything they took out of you, and you couldn’t even summon the strength to shield them if they come again. You know you'll die. The next time they come, opening your cage and dragging you through the halls in their self righteous futuristic looking uniforms. They always scoffed at your mistreatment. Mutants were the scum of the earth, and by torturing you and your kind, they thought they were doing mankind a favor. 

The sirens that suddenly blared in your ears brought about a sense of danger that hadn’t ever settled in the cell block before. Something that was foreign and unknown. This had never happened before. It was always silent as mutants were taken and used for their abilities, experiments falling over most of them. 

You thought that maybe the government had finally gotten ahold of Striker and his plans, ready to shut down the program and finish the job. Humans these days hated anything that was different from them, most of all the mutant race. 

You braced yourself, curling into the corner of the cage and closing your eyes. It would come any minute now. The blow of death while you were unable to shield yourself. 

You heard the cage squeak on its hinges, but there was no blow of death, only kind words from someone you've never met. 

“C'mon, get up… we're getting you out,” he said, pulling you from your feared bracing and making your eyes shoot open. Your arms and legs were bare in the clothes they gave you, meaning your skin was open to be touched. 

He grabbed at your arm, and you couldn’t even stop him… but he didn't fall, he continued to help you up, shouldering you out of the cell and onto your own two feet. By now the adrenaline kicked in, and you were able to walk through the pain, knowing this was your only shot to be free. 

“Who are you?” You asked in wonder. You met his eyes, and they were the most beautiful you think you've seen. Hazel, with gold in the middle. 

“Just someone that wants to help,” he said, letting you fend on your own now that he could feel your legs carrying you on their own. He went to help more, and you had to try and shake him from your mind just for the moment. There would come a time when you could ask questions, but now was for you to run. 

You caught up with one of the groups heading for the exit, and came across a few guards. You wondered if you even had your power anymore. That man, he touched you and survived. That's never happened before. Your skin is death, and no one escapes the reaper… 

You touched one of the guards with your open flesh and he instantly died upon contact. And that could only mean one thing. The mutant who was saving everyone was immune to your powers, and nobody else was. 

You have to find this man, but going back would almost mean certain doom for you, and you can't bring yourself to die yet. There's more life left to live. 

Once you escape the bunker, coming outside to a clearing, there waits a man in a wheelchair, rolling down from a hovering jet… and you know that jet. It belongs to-

“Charles?” You murmur, and within an instant, he was back in your head for the first time in over ten years. “Is it really you?”

“It's really me. I must look different than last time we met,” he smirked, handing you a pair of gloves and letting you lean on his chair to walk up the ramp. The others followed, and then the jet took off, no time to waste. “But you haven't changed at all.”

You collapsed into the seat closest to you, and then -

You sprung up from your pillows. 

This nightmare wasn't even a nightmare. It was still a memory, but not a bad one. It was something you tried to forget, but of course there was a single detail that could not be wiped from your memory if you tried. 

Logan.

He's the man that saved your life all those years ago. And more than that, he's the only person in the world you've met for over two hundred years that can touch you. 

It’s late, and when you turn to find that your clock says three in the morning, you hesitate… but things like this never happen, so your ability to wait until the sun at least rises is completely destroyed. You throw the sheets and comforter off your bed, and forget modesty in your haste. Wearing only the tiniest shorts from your dresser and the only clean shirt on hand, you made a quick trek from your room to the one next door. 

Knocking was out of the question, obviously. He’d be asleep, right?

When you barged in, he seemed to be having the same conundrum as you only a few minutes ago. His brows were furrowed, his mouth twisted in a look of something painful. Perhaps the very reason you were awoken from your slumber was to assist him with his… or maybe you were delusional and needed to go back to your room. 

“Logan?” you approached gently, sitting on the edge of the bed and reaching out for him. You wanted to calm him down if you could, he looked so scared in whatever dream he was having. 

He startled awake with lightning speed, his reactive senses making him sit straight up in bed, claws out and ready to attack. You yelped and fell off the bed, leaving a loud thunk on the ground. The amount of terror rushing through you suddenly left for the oddest reason. 

Looking down, your arm had been cut in three parallel lines. Not deep enough to severely wound you, but enough that you could feel the sting, and see the blood rising to the surface of the skin. You didn’t think you could bleed.

“Alice?” He calmed down, immediately worried over what he’d done. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t-”

“It’s okay,” you looked up at him, a look of utter joy on your face and he had no idea why. His confusion soared even more when instead of running from him you pulled yourself back up onto his bed, leaning closer. 

“Are you… alright? What’s going on?” 

“I remembered you. Where I met you,” you explained, getting even closer and making him nervous, considering your specific mutation he’s heard so much about. You completely forgot about your arm, leaving it for later.

“Where?” 

He was eager to remember anything about his past before the blank space. He wanted badly to know where he comes from, and if you had anything to do with how he got here. He knows it’s probably a slim chance, since you had to try hard to remember him upon his arrival.

You closed the gap and reached your hand out to his arm, and he flinched away. “Are you crazy? You could kill me.”

“No, I can’t,” you told him, watching his eyes as you finally reached again and touched his skin. He didn’t drop dead, or have any other side effects for that matter, and you breathed out in relief, a smile spreading across your face.

He was again confused, and more so shocked. His features couldn’t comprehend how this was happening if what everyone said was true. You’d killed people even accidently with the brush of an elbow, so how is he still living and breathing, your hand on his forearm?

“How did you know?” He wondered, his full focus now on what you could tell him. 

“Does the name William Striker ring a bell?” You squinted, knowing it was a longshot, but hoping he might know, anyway. 

“It sounds familiar, but I don’t recall a face or a history to go with it.”

“He gave you these,” you reached for his other hand, claws still drawn from his nightmare. “And he gave me these…”

You gestured to the scars on your legs and raised your shirt slightly so he could see the ones on your torso. All healed over by now but still reasonably protruding if you stare at them too long.

“He’d held so many mutants captive, but you set us free,” you watched as his claws retracted back into his skin, and then you took his unclenched hand. “You saved my life.”

“I don’t think that was me,” he shook his head. He doesn’t remember who he was, but he knows who he is now, and it couldn’t be that far from his past self… yet you spoke of him as though he were some caped figure with an agenda for fighting bad guys. “I don’t do things like that.”

“Logan,” you huffed, unwilling to let him negate himself, especially when you’ve waited all these years to talk to him again, to give him the gratitude you felt he deserved. “I have been alive for over two hundred years. During that time I have been all over the world, met as many mutants as there are stars in the sky… and not one could touch me, until you. I know it was you who saved me.”

“I’m no hero, kid…” he shook his head, his eyes falling to the cuts on your arm, the blood getting thicker and threatening to run down the expanse of your arm and onto your shirt. 

“You were to me,” you smiled sweetly. “You saved my life that day… and so many other mutants. Scott being one of them, he just doesn’t remember.”

“I saved Scott?” he cringed, and you laughed, having gotten notes of their instant rivalry in the energy around the mansion. 

“Yes, you did… and I never got to thank you for it, so… thank you.”

He nodded, still unsure of this past exchange and how much he had to do with it. You clearly remembered being helped by him. Enough so that you were willing to bet his life on whether or not he could touch you. He feels bad, now, seeing the red begin to run down your arm, he certainly doesn’t feel like a hero, and his actions don’t show him being one, either… but he can do something about that.

“Can I help you with that?” He pointed to the bloody open wound, which had been ignored until now. 

“I’ll take care of it, it’s not too bad.”

“No, I wanna do it… I’m the one that put it there,” he sighed when he stood up from bed, going into the hall and finding the bathroom. He’d seen a first aid kit in there somewhere. 

When he comes back he looks clueless on how to even open the box. 

“It has a child lock on it, lemme see,” you reached, and he batted your hands away softly, figuring it out himself. 

“I’m not a child,” he retorted dryly, reaching into the box and finding the proper supplies. 

He did decently, you’d have to say. Started with the cleansing wipes, then moved on to the antibacterial treatment and gauze wraps. Finished it off with a good layer of medical tape, securing it with a soft movement of his hands. They looked rough, but had been nothing but gentle. 

“You do this a lot?” You asked, wondering if perhaps it might trigger a memory. 

“Not to myself, and not to anyone else I can remember.”

“Well you did a good job.”

He nodded in thanks, and you went to stand up. Going back to your room seemed like the thing to do, and you wanted to let him get back to sleep.

“You don’t have to go, if you don’t want to.” His words halted you in your step, making you sit back on the bed where you’d been since arriving, minus the brief trip to the floor. “I usually don’t sleep after…”

“Nightmares?” Your soft question had him giving a small dip of his head, slightly embarrassed. “I get 'em, too. Not usually so much as lately, but I get 'em.”

And when he reached for your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze, you had no longing to go back to bed. You’d stay up the rest of the night with this man to ensure he didn’t let go of you. It was here that you decided he could touch you for a reason, and you weren’t going to let it go to waste. 

Tags: open

[bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky]

Scared Half to Death | Bucky Barnes x reader

Hi! I haven't posted a fic in forever. School has been a nightmare.

I literally wrote this in under an hour lol it's very short and not my best. But I just wanted to get something kinda Halloween-y out there in time to celebrate!

🎃👻🎃👻🎃Happy Halloween! 👻🎃👻🎃👻

Warnings: blood, Bucky's anxiety, injury

Bucky pulled his hand from the doorknob with a disgusted expression. A thick, sticky substance coated his palm and dotted his fingers. He rolled his eyes at whichever small child had covered his door handle in candy residue while he was gone. But just as he tried to wipe the syrupy remnants on his jeans, the color caught his eye. The flash of dark red sent shockwaves through his system. 

He’d stepped away from the apartment for just a few minutes, only long enough to replenish his candy supply for the next wave of trick-or-treaters. But in the short time that he was gone, something terrible- something violent- must’ve taken place. 

He dropped the candy to the floor and struggled to yank his keys from the lock, his hands shaking with anxiety. And when he finally burst through the door of the apartment he shared with you, he only found more carnage. 

Droplets of blood dotted the floor. They coagulated against the tile and wormed their way into the grout, staining it red. Bucky’s stomach turned. A leaden knot formed in his gut and weighed him down like an anchor. Where were you? Was this your blood? Were you hurt- were you dead?

He followed the gruesome path like a trail of breadcrumbs, fearing what he’d find at their end.  Only a few hours ago, everything was perfect. He’d sat with you as you got dressed for your best friend’s Halloween party. He rested on the bed you shared and delighted in watching you dance around the room as you did your make up and put on your costume. 

“Are you sure you don’t wanna come?” you asked as you shimmied into your costume.

“I’m sure, baby. It’s not really my thing,” he shrugged. “You know how I am with big crowds. Plus, Halloween is a little weird for me. People dress as my friends-” He swallowed hard, “People dress as a version of me that I try not to think about… it’s just not for me.”

“Yeah…” 

Silence filled the room. Guilt coursed through your body with each beat of your heart. Part of you itched to change out of your costume and forget the whole thing.

“You know, I don’t have to go-”

Bucky stood from the bed and made his way to your side, “Yes, you do.”

A stern expression crossed your face, “I really don’t. And I shouldn’t ditch you for a stupid party-” 

“You’re not ditching me,” he said. “You love this party! You look forward to Kelly’s-” he paused, struggling to remember the name of the shindig. “What does she call it again? Her Creep-Tastic?”

You laughed, “Spook-tacular!”

“Right!” Bucky rolled his eyes at his attempt. “You look forward to her Spook-Tacular every year! And I’m not gonna let you miss it just because I don’t wanna go.”

He took your face in his hands, careful not to mess up your make up. Never had anyone made him felt so loved, so cared for. You put him first at every turn, prioritizing his wellbeing and his mental health above all else. You sacrificed so much for him in the early stages of your relationship; the last thing he wanted was for you to miss out on the party you’d looked forward to for the last eleven months. 

“Seriously, doll, I’m gonna be fine. I’ll hand out candy to the kids and watch some tv,” he shrugged. “You don’t have to worry about me.”

It wasn’t a trick or a test; Bucky didn’t secretly hope you’d choose him instead of the party. He only wanted you to be happy. And you knew he meant every word he said. 

“Okay. Then tell me…” you did a quick spin, “how do I look?”

Bucky eyed you up and down, drinking in the neon pink and highlighter yellow leotard. The electric yellow kneepads. The pink visor. The bright yellow high-top sneakers. 

“You look amazing, Barbie. You belong in the Dream House!”

Not soon after that, you left. He’d walked you to your Uber and made you promise to be safe. He’d told you that he loved you. And that was the last time he saw you.

Until now. 

The trail of blood ended with you. Bucky discovered you sprawled on your back on the living room rug, your body soaked with blood. Smears of red coated your neck and stained your arms. Your clothes were saturated with gore. This Barbie didn’t belong in the Dream House; she belonged in a nightmare. 

“Oh, god-” Bucky made his way to your side and sunk to his knees, breathless. “Baby, hey- can you hear me? Open your eyes, look at me.” His fingers traced your neck in search of a pulse, desperately scrounging for even a flutter of life. 

And there it was- your pulse. You were still alive; your heart still managed to beat despite the blood loss. 

But Bucky’s gratitude only lasted a moment. He still had to find your wound and stop the bleeding. He had to call 911. He had to keep your heart beating. 

His hands scrounged across your abdomen in search of a stab wound or evidence of a gunshot. But just as he reached for your side, you made a sound.

Did he heard that right? Did you… giggle?

“Whaaaaaaat’re you doin’, Barnes?” you laughed. “Don’t tickle meeeee!” 

Bucky’s gaze shot from your blood-soaked clothes to your face. “Baby?”

“Hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii, Barbie!” you slurred, your face plastered with a smile. “Oh, nooooo- wait, you’re just Ken!” A fit of laughter exploded from your chest as you sang, “I’mmm juuuuust KEN! Anywhere elssssse, I’d beeee a TEN-” A sudden contemplative look banished your lighthearted spirit. “But you reeeeally are a ten, Buck… and I mean that.”

Bucky remained frozen. He was lost, confused. Were you woozy from blood loss? Or alcohol? Were you even hurt? Did you need an ambulance or a cold shower? 

“Baby, are you hurt? Are you okay?” He took your face in his hands, “Why are you covered in blood?”

“Because this Barbie hugged her friend!” 

A befuddled expression took over Bucky's face. "What?"

The room spun as you struggled to sit up. Bucky’s heart leapt into his throat; if you were hurt, you needed to lie down. You needed to stop moving and let him dress your wound. But you moved without wincing, without crying out in pain. Sure, you swayed from side to side just a little in your intoxicated state. But that was the worst of it. 

“I hugged Kelly! But Kelly was aaactually Carrie! Y’know, the girl covered in pig’s blood,” you laughed. “It kiiiinda ruined my costume a little. Buut, now I look like Scary Barbie! So s’okay.”

A deep sigh of relief filled Bucky’s lungs. He rocked back off of his knees and plopped down onto his butt. His bloody hands covered his face. “Then what are you doing on the floor, sweetheart?”

“Sometiiiiimes… sometimes ya just gotta lay on the floor. Y’know?” You shrugged, “And I didn’t wanna get allllll the blood on the couch.”

He nodded.

"I guess I fell asleep for a hot sec," you shrugged. "I was just waiting on ya to get home."

Bucky did his best to regulate his breathing, to calm the aggressive tsunami of anxiety that drowned his every cell. His entire world came crashing down the moment he found you on the floor, and now, he had to put it back together. 

“You okay, Buck? I came home early cause I missed yooou- I missed you sooooo much,” you placed a bloodied hand on his face. “But I didn’t mean to ruin your night to yourself. I’m sorry…”

“No, you didn’t ruin anything. It’s not that at all. It’s- baby, I thought…” he shook his head. His heart still pounded against his ribcage, and his breathing hadn't quite evened out. “I thought you were hurt. I thought you were…” He didn’t want to finish his sentence. 

“Ohhhhh, no, I’m fine! I’m okay! I’m drunk…” you laughed, “But I’m okay!”

Bucky pulled you close, grateful that the blood clinging to your skin came out of a bottle. "I know that now, I'm just..." he took a deep breath. "It's just gonna take a minute for my body to catch up with my brain."

His hand roamed up and down your spine. He needed to feel you breathe, to feel your voice vibrate against his palm. Seeing you like that- bloody and unresponsive- on the floor of the home you shared nearly scared him to death.

This wasn't the kind of Halloween scare that flooded his system with pins and needles and left him laughing. No, this stripped him of all breath, of all ability to think. It cut him to the bone.

He never wanted to imagine you getting hurt, getting killed. For him, losing you was a fate worse than death.

The two of you sat there together in the quiet calm as Bucky remembered how to breathe. He held onto you as tightly as he could without leaving bruises, and didn't care than you'd stained his white shirt with your gory mess.

“I’m glad you’re home, doll. And that you’re okay," he said after his heart returned to its normal pacing. "I just- I didn’t expect Bloody Barbie.”

You shrugged, “No one ever does.”

Bucky let out a loud laugh that echoed off the walls and made your heart flutter. “Alright, we need to clean you up and get you to bed, baby. I think we’ve both had enough Halloween shenanigans for the year.”

You allowed him to help you to your feet and guide you to the bathroom for a much needed shower. He was always there for you when you needed him, even without you asking. You knew he'd protect you, do anything for you- he'd even scrub fake blood from your nail beds.

"Buck?" you whispered as he helped you into bed.

"Yeah, baby?"

"You're soooo much better than Ken."

He knew it was a genuine, drunken compliment, but it nearly made him burst out laughing. "Thank you, doll. Yeah, I prefer Allan anyway."

"Saaaaaaame," you sighed, melting into your pillow.

Bucky tucked the covers around you and made sure your water was within reach. He placed a kiss to your forehead, once again thanking his lucky stars that you were home safe.

"Goodnight, Barbie."

----------------------------------

@beefybuckrrito @shadytalementality  @everything-burns-down @rainbow-unicorn-pony  @mandersshow @breakablebarnes @psychoticmason @glxwingrxse @lonewolf471 @dreamerglassesgirl  @the-gods-gloted-but-they-burned @purpleshallot @seitmai @itvy5601 @dailyreverie  @navs-bhat @eviesaurusrex @themorningsunshine  @evangeliamerryll @buckys-metal-arm @broadwaybabe18 @the-kestrels-feather  @avocadotoastwithegg @goldylions @lokisasgardianvampirequeen @vrittivsanghavi @idkitsem @avengetheunnatural @rassvetsky @hereforbuckyandsteve @barnesselo @juvellian @samanthacookieone @frombkjar @blackbirdsinatrenchcoat

[playboysaleen]

Kalopisa. (2)

Kalopisa: (n.) The delusion of things being more beautiful than they really are. 

Parings: Victoria Neuman x Supe!Reader (GN) (Slight AU)

Chapter One - Chapter Two

Summary: You never had the best life. Being abducted at a young age, being raised in the most wanted mafia as a weapon, hell- becoming the most feared in the gang. But…Truth is, you only wanted freedom. Being able to wake up and not have to wonder if you were going to see the sunset again. What happens when your wish partially comes true and you are offered your freedom but at what cost? Oh, you’ll see. 

Warnings: Death, Swearing, everything you done seen is the Boyz is what you should expect here.

Word Count: 3.4k (not proof read.)

Slight AU.  Slight German dialect. Reader speaks and has a french accent. I realized that in the show they are russian....its slight AU anyways they gonna be german here so bear with me lol. This chap is a little background on the reader. So you can grasp the reason why the reader is the way they are.

__________________________

A little backstory on you since now the boyz are on their toes to get you not only their wish but yours as well. 

When you were a toddler, you were taken from your family by the underground. Nina your ‘boss’ was on the table to wipe your entire family including you but when she entered the room to see you hunched over your dead mother crying she did not hesitate to create a soft spot for you. Well, it wasn’t the tears you were spilling but the sight around you. She could care less about the cries but the bodies that laid behind you. She didn’t mind the sippy cup of milk that was dripping from the nightstand but a smile grew on her face when there was the blood seeping into your clothes from the mess you made. The death of four of her men ignited a flame in her…she had a weapon. 

Weapon this. Weapon that. That was all you were. The constant urge to rip that woman to shreds but for what? To be on the run for the rest of your life? Fuck that. You remember sitting on the kitchen counter watching Nina clean the blood that stained your jaw. You kept your guard up but her hand was placed against your cheek and it sent you over the edge. You cried in her arms for a few seconds till a firm grip on your jaw caused the sobs to stop in your throat. Eyes were locked and you could smell the anger in her veins. She was disgusted with your emotions.

After that night you remembered walking back to your room with her hand giving you a reassuring squeeze every now and then till you were guided past your door down the hall. You still remember the smell of infected flesh and alcohol once her hand was placed on the handle as she opened the door. You were thrown into the room with a few other men that were quick to attack you. Waterboarded then zapped with volts that could fry a human to a crisp, then waterboarded again, strung up and beaten till your face was unrecognizable. It hardly sent you over the edge but what got you to your limit is when they would not feed you. You couldn’t go two days or more without feeding- you became submissive. Leaning against the bars, using the last of your weight to extend out your hand when Nina crouched down to your position smiling your way. This went on for years until there was nothing left in you to cry about. Till this day, you could feel the zaps against your neck when the water engulfed you whole when you stepped into your shower. You were 11. Eleven. 

Who was Malina? Ah, a story that does indeed get you riled up. On your 18th birthday you were granted to leave the underground for the night with the friends you made to celebrate your entrance to adulthood. You had a friend that wasn’t with you in the shithole you lived in. Malina. Meeting her was a bit sketchy but from the life you lived it was a simple weekly drug deal you do on the daily. You leaned against the run down building playing with your hoodie strings when the woman appeared around the corner. 

“Took you long enough,” You muttered out, pulling the wad of cash out of your pocket as she huffed, sending you a bright smile. 

“Tony did not shut up about what to wear for tonight, I completely lost track but hey! He is coming and he is bringing along his friend.” She spoke out reaching for the money when you pulled your hand back sending her a look. She chuckled, removing the backpack and unzipping; showing you the product. You nodded waving the cash in her face, 

“Tell Tony I’d give him a big fat kiss if I was not gay.” You joked out earning a laugh from the girl in front of you. She grabbed the payment without her fingers running over your own. Her smile faded as she took a step towards you, 

“I’ll make sure Tony keeps all this under the rug for tonight.” She whispered, you stayed silent feeling her breath against your lips. Your eyes ran across her face but stayed on her plumped lips when all you could do is nod. You always felt this bubbling feeling in your stomach when you met her two years ago, but you couldn’t do much about it with you being 16 and her twenty-two. You heard the men from the underground mention women and it was safe to say you had a little crush on the woman but throughout the two years, you were coming to understand maybe you did like her. 

“See you tonight Malina.” You whispered, taking a step back making your way out of the alley. You opened the backpack taking another glance to make sure the supply was correct knowing Malina she just grabs and runs your way. The small box labeled ‘Red River’ sent a huff out your mouth but you took a peek to see the blue vials knowing it was another successful deal. 

“Je ne vais pas boire, j'ai dix-huit ans, pas vingt et un, idiot” (I am not going to drink. I am eighteen, not twenty-one dumbass.) You scolded the man slapping the back of his head. Dani pointed his beer your way when another bucket was placed on your table. Music softly rang throughout the poolhall when all you wanted to do is go slam your head against the concrete wall. You were babysitting these connards (assholes) instead of actually enjoying yourself. 

“How about this,” Danill laughed out, placing a beer in front of you. “You drink with us and I will take the next name tomorrow. Have time with that mutterloses mädchen (motherless girl) of yours.” You rolled your eyes but gave in when you grabbed the bottle taking a long swig. Danill and the goons cheered, patting your back as you huffed, grabbing the pool stick, walking to the table. 

“Qui va se faire botter le cul ensuite?” (who is getting their ass beat next?”) you sang out swiftly hitting the 8 ball into the pocket. Alexi grumbled out some German swears plopping down the seat next to Danill. 

“I got next.” You turned to see Malina removing her coat, you noticed Tony whispering to the girl next to him. ‘No one is going to see you.’ His friend nodded, releasing a shaky breath. Her eyes locked with yours and everything stopped. You could hear her heart beating in your ears and you couldn’t stop the small grin that painted your face. You found your next meal. Malina pulled you into a hug when you wrapped her arms around her waist as the feeling disappeared from within you. You leaned back but your body froze when her lips were placed against the corner of your mouth. 

“I got twenty on V.” Tony blurted out, Danill raised his beer his way adding, 

“I got twenty on your friend then,” Tony chuckled, waving his bill, slapping it on the edge of the pull table. V was your alias name to everyone you knew but the truth is, you don't even know your real one. The night was spent betting on you and Malina plus a couple rounds of booze. It was safe to say you were indeed having a good time. 

“Oh my god, this is my song!” Malina gushed, grabbing your hand that was focused on hitting the solid ball when it sent the 8 right into the pocket. Some groaned and most cheered getting money into their hands but you were more focused on trying not to trip over your feet when Maline dragged you through the crowd. You were freaking out, you didn’t know what to do- hell, you didn’t know if you could even dance. Your thoughts went silent when your hands were placed on her waist pulling you in. You followed her movement but soon slowed down when your eyes flickered to Tony's friend starting your way. Tony was too focused on trying to get the same treatment you were getting. He was in love with his best friend, huh good luck with that. You hummed softly when you smelled the nervousness from the girl in front of you, she wanted to kiss you…and she did. You let yourself get lost in this feeling but the sad truth about it all was that it wasn't yours. It was hers. 

“Nadia!” You heard Tony yell out over the music when you turned your head breaking the kiss. Malina chased you down for another kiss but you pulled away following a very stressed Tony. Exiting out the back, you walked down the alley to find Tony with his hands in the air shouting. 

“What do you want from me Nadia? I gave you everything and you’re already head over heels for the fucking kid?” 

“It’s not that Tony, please just stop.” She pleaded, Malina stood next to you watching the sight unfold. Tony was jealous? Do you? You took a step when Tony gripped her arm when she tried walking away. 

“Tony stop,” Malina shouted, Nadia's head turned your way when you stood there matching her gaze. A static voice sounded in your ears but you were quick to flinch at the feeling of warmth splattering against your face. You turned to face Malina but all you saw was red. Blood invaded your nose but the overwhelming feeling of pain struck you deep, you turned to see Tony with his hands behind his head panicking.

“Oh god Nadia, we need to go.” He pleaded yanking on her coat when all she could do was stand there frozen under your emotionless gaze. 

‘This is Beta-2, Suspect 2 has been neutralized. Please evacuate the scene, FBSA will arrive at 5.’ 

You watched Nadia’s eyes turn white but for some reason she couldn't do it. You were the target and she failed. Tony yanked her one last time till she turned on her heels fleeing the scene. You took one last glance at what was left of Malina walking back into the pool house. 

“Ils sont là (they’re here), We have five minutes.” You spoke out grabbing your coat, Danill whistled and everyone was quick to gather their belongings heading out the backdoor. 

“Scheisse, is that-” Danill started but you walked past him hopping onto your bike roaring it to life. 

“I will meet you there. I need to handle something.” speeding out towards the main road, you kept your head low when the flashes of those american colors flew by you. You knew the saying from the underground. "You take one, we take all.” 

You killed an entire FBSAs safe house that night. Unlatching from the last soldier you leaned back into the wall watching him crawl away from you. Heavy breaths were heard from you when you felt something sliding down your cheek. You were crying. Why the fuck where you crying? Quickly wiping away the tears, you grabbed the soldier as he whimpered under your stare. 

“Tell this Nadia that I will kill Tony and she will be next.” 

The man nodded as you let him scurry away heading back to the vought tower. You looked around the room at the lifeless, shredded, and drained bodies and it still didn't…help. The survivor did what he was told running into the main office crying out what had been done but once questions were asked the man dropped limp to the ground with black ooze sizzling its way out of his nose and mouth. With the venom you left in his bloodstream gave him enough time to say his goodbyes to his family and well… to get your message across. 

They couldn't find you since then. You went dark. Your face couldn’t be found on any security or satellite cameras but you did fulfill half your promise. Two years after the loss of Malina, you found Tony running another grimey team for Red River. You left witnesses so Nadia and her little team can clean up their mess but you only wanted one person. 

“I will give you anything V, please.” Tony begged as he cradled himself like an innocent fetus. You could see his vein pulsating on the side of his neck, but you did not want to drink from him. The small room seemed to shrink with the rage you felt once you found him but you knew what to do. You walked further into the room with your hands in your pockets clicking your tongue, 

“Oh Tony, Tony, Tony…” you sang out crouching down to his side, grabbing his jaw. You looked over his expression when in truth, his fear was all you needed in this moment. 

“Malina was your friend, no? What makes you think she won’t burst you to bits too?” You cooed out aggressively letting go of his jaw. You stood to your feet walking to the center of the room clasping your hands together. 

“Here is the plan- you have two options.” You started pointing your finger his way. 

“You can tell me where your friend is and I will make this quick, or if you still think she feels the same way and you do not tell me…then I will make sure you can feel death pulling you out of your body when I drain every last drop of your blood- your choice.” Tony cried out a bunch of ‘no’s’ to which you pouted grabbing the broken bat that laid against the night stand placing it softly on his jaw. He whimpered once more when you lifted his head up to face you. 

“It is a shame that you think that monster is going to love someone like you. She could have saved you by now but…” His eyes caught the blinking red light of the camera that was hidden in the corner of the room. “From the looks of it, I think she is enjoying the show. Now, any last words to her before I decide myself on what I shall do for you?” You hummed at his silence but soon smiled when he started wailing out his pleas to the camera. Backpedaling to the door, you placed your hand on the light switch waiting for his cries to die down but the man kept going. 

Clapping your hands together, Tony looked your way, 

“Oh shut the fuck up, you talk too much.” You mumbled, flicking off the light. His screams were music to your ears and you haven't even started yet. You stalked your way to him but stopped when you stood in front of him. You turned your head to face the camera flashing your blood-coated fangs. Little did you know, she was watching the entire time. She did not feel anything for the man that pleaded for her aid but the heat that pooled between her legs when your red eyes hued on her screen was so wrong but…fuck did she loved the feeling. 

“No, no nonono Please! Please V! Plea-” A gasp was heard from the woman when she slapped a hand over her mouth at the crunch that echoed from her screen. The loud gulps could be heard from the way you drank him dry. A moan slipped your mouth at the taste of his fear igniting the fire in her chest. A masked cough slipped from her when all she wanted to do is go along with the sounds you were making, god how she wanted to feel your fangs piercing her neck with your hand wrapped around her thro- 

“We will get a team down there-” a voice interrupted her fantasies, she lifted her hand shaking her head. 

“No, they will continue to come back and we have bigger things on our hands.” A loud thud sounded from the laptop as you dropped his body back onto the ground. 

“Oh Nadia…” you sang out, leaning against the wall waving at the camera. She turned her full attention to you. You were a killer. A monster and she was into every single bit of it. 

“One day, I will find you; pray to the gods that I am having a good day…and I’m fed.” You breathed out, moving closer to the camera waving the head of her beloved decapitated friend displaying the biggest fanged smile. 

“Until then mon amour.” 

You weren’t a child. You couldn’t even consider yourself being one since you had your childhood stripped away when you could barely walk. You were the devil. The boogeyman of every adult's nightmares. You were FBSA most feared. 

It’s been five years since then. The way your fingernails dug into the spade table when you saw her enter the screen with her navy blue pants suit. Who knew she’d be a dangerous super holding hands with the federal government. Her smile made your head want to explode but for some odd reason, you enjoyed the little rush of needles that poked its way into your dead heart. 

Now you had nowhere to go, Frenchie was the only person you could trust so here you were in a donut shop with Frenchie gawking over the glazed donut. 

“You have to try this one, Kimiko requested it for you!” He beamed pointing at the strawberry covered donut. You hummed as he took that as a yes, asking the lady for two. You stood watching him smile at the lady receiving the change. It was 5 in the morning, just an hour after the incident with Victoria. Butcher and Hughie suggested that it was best for you to take a breather while they find a way to get some sort of drug from this hideout Victoria once owned. 

“I did not know the Frenchie was a little chatte.” (pussy) Frenchie playfully shoved you when you stumbled back a bit. A laugh spilled your lips when you swung your arm over his shoulder. 

“Kimiko showed me a side to life I did not know there was. It is a nice cauchemar, you should visit that place sometime.” He playfully defended. You scoffed, shaking your head at his antics when he shoved a bottle of chocolate milk into your chest. You inspected the drink as a smile fought its way to your face. 

“I remember you used to steal these from the corner store for me.” You laughed out, opening the bottle taking a long sip. A satisfied sigh was heard from you when you both made way into the elevator. He patted your shoulder smiling softly, 

“Well, now you can get as many as you want.” He assured you, he opened the door and walked in but he gave you a smirk, “not too many we don't need un gros démon, what is the point?”(a fat demon) you shoved him once he placed the bag of treats on Kimiko's desk. You wandered deeper into the office making your way up stairs to the loft area entering the bedroom. You took a seat on the small sofa that sat next to the bed, you fought between the urge of snapping her neck and…running your finger through her hair. 

She starred in her sleep moving her head turned to face you when you leaned back into the sofa letting it engulf you whole. Your eyes raked over her face when you tried everything and anything to look away but you couldn’t. You wanted her dead. 

“I’m surprised I didn’t burst to pieces while I was asleep.” She spoke, fluttering her eyes open to meet your threatening stare. You leaned deeper into the sofa open your legs a big wider, 

“I like to play with my food before I feed.” 

Her heart sped up with what came out of your mouth and you caught it. She moved onto her stomach as the sounds of the cars now driving to work were heard outside the window. Her eyes never leaving yours, 

“Why didn’t you kill me?” She whispered. Tilting your head, you moved from your position leaning closer that you were only a foot apart from her. 

“Where is the fun in that?” You whispered as your eyes flashed the red that has haunted her dreams from years ago. You wanted to kill her but something about her led you to wanting to see a certain side in action and…it wasn’t to kill Homelander. 

_____________________

One thing i am going to say... there will be alot of tension in this. Im not only teasing yall, I am doing this to myself lmfaooooo.

[lovelettersforthedamned]

on the prompt list 2 of angst "you're being mean." gives very much that little women scene but maybe with a happy ending cuz I wanna stay with Peter 🙏🙏🙏 I love that man - 🎀

Breathe

--genre: angst & fluff (at the end)

--pairing: tasm!peter parker x reader

--word count: 1.3k

--warnings: language, reader has a slight panic attack, hyperventilating, peter is a big meanie in this, mention of wilson fisk (fuck that guy LOL).

--gif credits: @sincericida (aka the best)

At this moment, you wish you could time travel back to fifteen minutes ago. Fifteen minutes ago, you were lounging on the couch. Fifteen minutes ago, you were in the middle of the TV show you’ve been binging for the past week. Fifteen minutes ago, you were at peace, sort of. 

Peter has been pushing himself past his limit for a while now. He would go out to patrol at night, come back well after midnight, and fall asleep on the couch. During the day, he’s off to work before you wake up. And if you do see him in the morning, he barely acknowledges your presence. Even though you two live together, it feels like you haven’t seen him in a few weeks. 

But now, you wish you didn’t see him tonight. His mood was sour as soon as he slipped through the window. He’s home early tonight. You look over to the clock beside you, the digital lines showing you that it was only eleven. You paused the show, calling out to him over your shoulder, “Hey, Pete! You’re home early.”

You were met with no response, only his heavy footsteps leading to your shared bedroom. You frown slightly as you rise to your feet, following him. He flips on the light when he enters the room, you gasp at the sight. He’s covered in dirt from head to toe, even some of it caking onto the grooves of his suit. 

He was holding his mask in his hand before he tossed it to the corner of the room. He starts to undress, and the more he pulls and pushes off his suit, the more you can see how blank his face is. He was standing in front of the mirror, but his eyes weren’t focused on anything. He just had this blank stare. 

You slowly walk up to him, before speaking, “Baby? Can I get you any water or anything?” Your tone was soft and cautious. You didn’t know what state he was in, the last time he was like this was a few years ago, right when he first started being the ‘friendly neighborhood Spider-Man’. Granted, you two were just friends at the time. It took him a while to come back to his normal self, but he was responsive throughout the entire time. And now, he still doesn’t answer you. 

You try again, “Hey, Peter…Let me help—”. 

“Fuck! No (Y/N), just get out! You’re starting to piss me the fuck off.”

A small gasp escapes your lips, as you take a step back out of surprise. He’s never yelled at you like this, but now that he has, you hated how it made you feel. Tears instantly well into your eyes as you try to maintain your composure. 

He’s now fully stripped from his suit, he leaves it on the ground when he starts to grab a change of clothes from the drawer next to him. You can’t help but look at his demeanor. He’s frantic and angry, and based on the slouch on his shoulders, he’s tired. You must’ve zoned out because Peter spots you still standing there looking at him, he walks over to you when he slips a shirt over his head. “Hey,” he is now directly in front of you, “are you stupid? I said, get—”. 

It’s you who cuts him off this time, you speak, still soft, “You’re being mean, Peter.” 

Now that Peter’s in front of you, he can see you clearly, his mind no longer jaded with the fog that came with patrolling. Your eyes are spilling tears down your cheeks while you try to hold back the sounds that come with sobs. It’s like Peter has been slammed with reality as soon as he made eye contact with you. And just like that, he realized what he said to you not even a minute ago. “Bug…I am so sorry,” he goes in for a hug, fully expecting to be met with your figure until you step back. 

He looks at you, your demeanor clearly shows that you don’t accept his apology just yet. “What has been going on with you these past weeks? Why does it feel like you’ve been avoiding me, huh? Why!” You yell at him, your emotions coating your throat with anger. 

You can’t help but push at his chest with as much strength as you can muster. Of course, you at your strongest wouldn’t even leave a dent in Peter. Fuck his stupid super strength. Nonetheless, you still tried to hurt him the same way he did for weeks. Your cries echo off the walls. 

Peter hated seeing you like this, and it kills him to think that he was the one that caused this. He could see that you were draining yourself as you tried to punch and push him. He softly grabbed your wrists, pausing your movements, as you cried out, “You made–made me feel like I was invisible, and I hated that feeling Peter.” 

With Peter still holding you, you sink to the floor. Your body was exhausted. As you fell, Peter sank with you, making sure you didn’t hit the floor. Your breathing is still choppy, not quite catching a good breath, you could feel Peter push stray hairs that have fallen into your face behind your ear. 

“(Y/N), I am so sorry. Fisk has been fucking up my nights, and now my days. He’s getting closer and closer to you, and it scares the shit out of me, bug. I know that’s not an excuse for anything I’ve done or said to you, but please I need you to take a breath for me. Please,” his voice starts to shake as he opens up to you. 

It takes you a second before you can take a proper breath, Peter’s hand rubbing up and down your back as you do. His movements are slow as he takes his time with you. He’s trying so hard to make up for the time he’s spent avoiding you. He takes you all in, even in your current state. Peter can’t help but think about how stupid he’s been. He hasn’t even considered how you’ve been feeling while he thought he was protecting you. You had no idea. How could you? 

Once you’ve regained your breath, you look up at Peter, who has been looking at you this entire time. “Pete,” you start, holding his face, “you can’t leave me in the dark with these things. We’re a team. You can tell me when things get rough, baby. You don’t need to let it fester in your mind until something like this happens again. Let me help you, Peter. Let me in.”

With your hand still holding his cheek, he brings his own to hold it in place, sinking into your touch. He nods as tears prick into his eyes. “I’m sorry, bug. I am so fucking sorry,” his tears fall onto his cheeks as you wipe them away. 

You pull his forehead to touch yours, closing your eyes as you take a breath as he’s here with you, “We’ll figure this out. I promise you we will. And I’ll be with you every step of the way.”

“I love you,” he whispers.

You pull away from his touch, just to reconnect it through a deep kiss. You could taste the salt on his lips from the tears that made their way to them, but you didn’t care. Pulling away, you flash him a small smile, “I love you too.”

--author's note: okay pause, because this was supposed to be just a little blurb, but i couldn't resist. i am a huge sucker for angsty things, so i LOVED this. also, wanting to stay with peter is so real bc he's so bf coded...ANYWAYS thank you 🎀 anon for requesting yet another banger omg. my inbox/request are open!!! also my 200 follower celebration is ending soon, so send in those requests! don't forget to like, comment, and reblog if you love what you read. okay, ily bye<333

[thestarlightforge]

Why “I’m Billy Maximoff” Mattered to Me — A Queer Disabled Person’s Journal

10/17/24

***

Call it silly if you like. But I feel actually healed. Because these stories, they’re not just “superheroes”—they’re modern mythology. They’re how we teach each other and our children who deserves a place in the world.

When I watched WandaVision, like a lot of people, I identified with Wanda’s grief/depression/trauma journeys. And of course saw myself in the queer kids she gave a loving home, more so the more Young Avengers books I read. But with the WandaVision versions of Billy and Tommy in particular—more so even than the comic books—I also read into it the disability/childhood terminal illness allegory. It’s something on Schaeffer’s mind while writing them—leaked audition tapes from actors not cast as the boys revealed as much—even if it didn’t occur to all the viewers.

But I wasn’t supposed to live, either. Wasn’t even supposed to be born.

I don’t talk about it a lot because it’s hard to talk about. But when my mom was pregnant with me, doctors in Tennessee (pro-life peons they claim to be; it’s all an act) tried to get my parents to late term abort me, all because of a genetic condition they suspected I had—which I don’t even have lol, turns out I had a different handful of impairments, but anyways. A lot of people with the genetic conditions I DO have die within two hours of being born. My whole childhood was spent ducking in and out of hospitals, I had eleven major surgeries and almost died a dozen or so times before I turned twenty… I am so pro-choice it’s insane, but I was one of the “inspiration porn” kids that white, southern Republicans used in their crusades, screaming their “pro-life” BS at the Democrats who gave MY mom the right to choose my life.

I know. It’s WILD.

All that to say, though: It hit me in a particular place when Wanda married her trans husband, had queer kids who the entire world screamed at her (either weren’t real or) shouldn’t have been allowed to live, and then believed in them and loved them. With her everything. Thanked her queer, disabled kids for the honor, for choosing her to be their mom. (And Multiverse of Madness asked us to hate her. It baffles me to this day.) She didn't give up on them, did everything in her power to rescue them on the faintest hope they had survived (calling out for help in the Darkhold), even as some of the most powerful mages on SEVERAL worlds gaslit her for years... And when the gaslighters finally convinced her they were right, she destroyed the artifact that could be used to hurt anyone like her boys ever again.

For years, since Schaeffer had to relinquish creative control to the Multiverse of Madness team, I have felt that “the only creator amongst my favorite stories who feels like I belong has had to let us go, and the people who follow her don’t even believe we deserve a chance… we’re crazy, imaginary, and the world is better off without us.”

A slam-the-door narrative, Doctor Pandemonium & Avengers: Disassembled come again, the likes of which Byrne & Bendis would be proud.

But Agatha is an anti-hero/anti-villain story about ALL misunderstood, outcast people who deserve a second chance, no matter what the world may think.

The fact that Billy’s story in the MCU is now a meta-commentary on that publication history narrative… That Schaeffer took the episode to say, “I don’t know how many times or in how many different ways I’m gonna have to spell this out for y’all, but Wanda’s kids are HERS. They are and were REAL. They have their OWN SOULS and they BOTH DESERVE to FIND THEMSELVES and FIND LOVE and LIVE.”

I can’t think of a better way to have honored us. 💙

“It’s nice to see you again, Billy” 😭

(for the record, Agatha saying this totally genuine and with tears in her eyes—she will never be a villain to me, not ever again 💜🖤)

Thank y’all for listening. ❤️

This one’s for Tommy 🥹💚

[skiller0dani]

Going Home | Eleven

M A S T E R L I S T Doctor Who Masterlist

smut requests info w.c | 7k summary | you go home for a quick visit, and The Doctor leaves when he promised he was going to stay.

Welcome to my secret archive! This is a personal favorite that I have written. I hope you enjoy, and just remember some of the details may not line up bc I really didn't think they would get posted, as I wrote them for myself mostly. I hope you enjoy it anyway, there are no Doctor Who fics here or on Archive it's a travesty! So I thought I'd share my little collection with you all, enjoy my loves!

BTW I listened to The Long Song by Murray Gold for this piece. Also BTW, Eleven is my favorite Doctor followed by Ten. Also (I know shut up and let them read, Danielle) I'm AMERICAN LOL and I tried my best to make this seem Authentic to England, but it still has American twists to it, I don't mean to lol my culture is all I know.

CREDIT: Found the amazing Dividers at Firefly Graphics, check them out.

“I’ll just be a minute, just want to pop in and say hi.” You smile, reaching for your handbag to sling over your shoulder. The Doctor smiles from the other side of the console, he’s used to this. Bringing Humans to live with him in the Tardis usually means occasional visits home. 

“Need me to tag along?” He asks, and you smile because you know he doesn’t really want to come. The Doctor has become hesitant in recent years to become over involved in his companions' families. You asked him why once, and he got this sad look on his face like he was remembering something. He didn’t tell you, but you knew whatever he was thinking of wasn’t good, so you didn’t ask. 

“No, that’s okay. My mum doesn’t really like you anyway,” you tease with a light smile on your face. The Doctor’s mouth drops open in offense as he makes his way around the console towards you. 

“What?! I haven’t done anything to that woman, she’s only met me one time!” The Doctor exclaims in disbelief. You chuckle as you look up at him, he’s stopped just barely a foot in front of you. You feel your heart begin to thrum unsteadily against your chest at the close proximity. You look up at him, your eyes meeting in a heated stare. 

“Oh you mean the time when you knocked on the door, promised her you’d keep me safe, and took me away with you? That time? Yeah I can’t imagine why she wouldn’t like you.” You joke, sarcasm in your voice. 

“You’re safe aren’t you? And I’m returning you, as promised.” He insists with a huff, leaning back against the console with his arms crossed. 

“Wait, you’re not leaving are you? I’m just visiting-” You begin, and the worry in your voice makes The Doctor smile. He reaches up to tenderly brush his palm against your cheek, his thumb stroking gently. 

“I’d never leave without you, promise.” His voice is soft, sincere and you believe him. 

“Okay, I’ll see you later then.” You smile, nervously leaning forward to press your lips against his cheek to give him a quick peck. Technically you and The Doctor aren’t together, and you clearly have feelings for him. You think he has feelings for you. You hope he does. Sometimes it's hard to tell with him. He has a small smile on his face as he watches you leave, flashing him another beautiful smile over your shoulder before you’re out the door. You see your parents' apartment building just ahead of you, and you’re already mentally preparing for the scolding you will receive in just a few minutes. 

You weren’t entirely fibbing when you told The Doctor your Mum doesn’t like him. She doesn’t. According to her, he’s the reason you quit your job and broke up with your fiance, who was a highly respected Attorney. In actuality you never loved Todd, he was so mind numbingly boring compared to The Doctor. You know meeting The Doctor has ruined any possibility of ever having a relationship on Earth because no man will ever have a chance of competing with The Doctor, he’s sort of it for you. Not like you’d tell him that though, or anybody for that matter. 

Nearly every star in the sky can be pinpointed back to him in some way, you wonder how dark and bleak the Universe would be if he didn’t exist. Everybody in this Universe owes their lives to him, and you’ll make sure he never forgets all the good he’s done. The Doctor tends to look at himself and see a monster, a selfish man who drags fragile Humans around with him to impress them, but you know that’s not true. Everybody needs a friend, even The Doctor...he just always seems to forget that. 

So how the hell could Todd from Barnaby and Scott Law Firm compete with someone like that? Has he ever even saved a cat from a tree? No, not worth his time, but he’d be there to represent the cat in court after the poor thing fell. You laugh softly to yourself as you trudge up the last flight of stairs before you finally reach your parents floor. You anxiously check out the window one more time, and you see the Tardis is still parked out on the lawn just where it was before. 

You’re not checking because you don’t trust him, or because you think he doesn’t want you to travel with him anymore but because The Doctor has a tendency to leave companions behind to keep them safe. He's already threatened to do it once when you wandered off and nearly got yourself killed. You don't think he actually would, he was just cross because you scared him. You approach your parents door, and hesitantly lift your hand to knock. You’re looking forward to seeing your Dad, your Mum not so much. You hear scrambling around and chairs scraping against the wood floors. The door flings open and you’re met with your 14 year old sister, Jeanie. 

“Jeans!” You exclaim joyfully, throwing your arms around your beaming sister. She hugs you back tightly, peering over your shoulder curiously. 

“Where’s your boyfriend?” She mumbles against your shoulder and you feel your chest seize and your face flush. 

“Who- The Doctor?” You ask incredulously, and Jeanie simply nods. 

“He- he isn’t my boyfriend Jeans, and he’s busy.” You dismiss her question as casually as you can, hoping your voice doesn’t give anything away as you make your way into your parents' spacious apartment. Your Father, Richard Scott, is a co-owner of Barnaby and Scott Law Firm, so you lived a privileged life. It’s also why your Mum was so dead set on you marrying Todd Farlan, who was conveniently employed at Barnaby and Scott. 

“Busy! He’s always busy, he promised he’d bring me a Quadricycle!” Jeanie pouted, a look of disappointment on her face. 

“And if he isn’t your boyfriend, then he should be.” She insists. 

“Wait, what’s a Quadricycle?” You ask, disregarding her previous comment, which she doesn’t miss. 

“Don’t pretend you’re not in love with him.” Jeanie teases, a dangerous and playful glint in her eye. 

“Quit it Jeans, I am not. Oh, hi Dad.” You smile as you round the corner into the kitchen, to see your Dad sipping a cup of coffee in a pinstripe suit. 

“My Happy girl has finally come back home! How long are you planning on staying this time?” He asks, and you love the lack of contempt in his voice. 

“Not long I’m afraid, just a few hours for a visit. I missed you.” You admit, letting your Father crush you against his chest. 

“Is that fellow of yours coming? The Doctor?” He asked, his eyes glancing back at the door. You shook your head, allowing your eyes to close as Dad rubs his hand up and down your back. Being in life threatening danger on a daily basis really made you miss your family, well Jeanie and your Dad anyway. 

“No he’s…working. He says hi.” You’re only half-lying. The Doctor got a strange message on the psychic paper he’s checking the authenticity of, so he technically is working. Keys jingle in the door, and your heart instantly plummets into your stomach. It’s your Mum. 

“Now Happy, you know how your Mother is. Just ignore her and put on a brave face, yeah?” Your Dad says, placing a hand on your shoulder once he feels the tension coming from you. Jeanie gave you a smile, dashing off to her room and you almost wished you could do the same. But you didn’t, you started getting busy on the dishes. Doing something else made it easier to ignore her. You can hear the clicking of her heels as she comes down the hallway, your Mother was the Headmistress of a Secondary School, and she acted like one. 

“Oh so you decided to finally grace us with your presence, hm?” Your Mother says, her voice stern.

“Hello Mum.” Your voice is polite, fake polite. You turn to give her a smile, and you see her graying blonde hair pinned back and her glasses perched up on her beak shaped nose. Come to think of it, your Mother reminded you of a bird with a pinched up face. She scans you from head to toe, her eyes flickering over you from the tops of her narrow glasses. 

“I suppose you look thin enough, a bit worn out though. What is that Doctor doing to you anyway?” Her voice is judgemental, accusatory as she places her black handbag down. She’s wearing a suit, a pantsuit, your Mother never wore skirts. 

“Nothing Mum, he hasn’t done anything.” You say patiently, sighing a bit as you turn back to the dishes. He only saves my life practically everyday and still you say horrible things about him, you think bitterly to yourself.

“Give her a break Christine, she just got home.” Your Father says, and you could hug him all over again. Your Mother reaches into her bag, pulling out a stack of papers. 

“Yes Richard I can see that, it’s perfect timing actually.” Your Mother begins and your Father swears under his breath. 

“Christ Christine, not this shit again. I already told you those won't hold up in a court, it’s not the fucking 1800s!” Your Father snaps and you have to physically pick your jaw up, you hardly ever hear your Father swear.

“Dad, what're you talking about? What are those papers?” You ask, your anxiety spiking. 

“Your Mother here has decided to write up a contract betrothing you to Todd Farlan.” Your Father explains hotly, this is clearly something they’ve argued about before. You feel your heart seize, and cold dread washes over you. You need to go back to the Tardis now, you never should have come home. 

“What?” Your voice is small, you hate how afraid you sound. Your Father turns to face you, looking in your eyes. 

“Happy, don’t forget I’m a lawyer. I won’t let anybody do anything to you against your will.” Your Father promises and you nod, avoiding your Mothers eyes. 

“Richard let me talk to her. Alone.” Your Mother asks, tapping her heel impatiently against the kitchen tile. He doesn’t move. 

“Oh for God sakes, I just want to talk to her. She’s my daughter.” Your Mother huffs, and you want to sink into the floor. Could your Mother really marry you off to Todd without your permission? She seems to be sure it’s going to happen, was she going to do this behind your back while you were gone? You’d come back suddenly married to Todd? You feel sick when you think about all of this. You regret telling The Doctor not to come, you wish he was here. You wanted him to swoop in and rescue you like he always does. But he’s outside tinkering in the Tardis and you told him not to be worried unless night has fallen and you still haven’t come back. He needs to make you a ‘help me!’ button that you can press and alert him you need his help. Like a Doctor Life Alert. 

“It’s okay Dad. Just 5 minutes Mum.” You tell her, and you want your voice to sound stronger but it sounds so small and afraid. It’s hard for you to be brave when The Doctor isn’t around, he has this way of making you feel like you can do anything. He believes it too, even if you don’t. Your Dad leaves the kitchen, giving you an arm squeeze and a wink as he goes. You remain standing by the sink, a guarded look on your face as you cross your arms. Your Mother slides the stack of papers towards you. 

“Just read them, I think you’ll find the terms aren’t as bad as you think. You loved this man once, would marrying him really be so awful?” Your Mother is giving you this look, this I love you and only want the best for you look, but you don’t believe her. Not anymore. 

“I don’t love him anymore, and actually that sounds like a hell crafted specifically for me. I couldn’t imagine anything worse. The only thing I want in this world is to travel with The Doctor.” You say patiently, though you’re starting to losing your patience. 

“Ah, not that stupid man again! You’re traveling with someone you don’t even know Y/N! You don’t even know his name!” She exclaims, frustrated. 

“You wouldn’t understand.” You huff, you know the truth. You know that worlds would burn and the fabric of reality would split open if someone uttered The Doctor’s name at the wrong place, at the wrong time. His name is literally dangerous information, besides The Doctor suits him just fine. 

“No, and I don’t care to anymore. That’s besides the point. I have it written up in this contract that you will be allowed to continue traveling with whomever you choose at your discretion.” Your Mother explains, and all of this is raising red flags in your head. 

“That’s awfully kind, what’s the catch?” You ask, your voice flat and sarcastic. There’s a catch, there’s always a catch. 

“You have to return home to produce children, an heir so to speak for his family's prestigious name and fortune. Once you have given him a male heir, you are free to do whatever you like.” Your Mother explains, like this is all normal stuff. Like the two of you are discussing the shopping, debating wheat bread versus rye. 

“Oh my God. So if I sign this, I have to come home to have sex, squeeze out a baby and then I’m free to do what I’m already doing without all that nonsense? Sign me right up!” You snap, pushing past her to head towards the front door.

“You get security for life Y/N! Knowing you’ll be taken care of when this little phase of yours has passed. A life to come back to!” Your Mother insists as you quickly gather your things. Jeanie has slowly emerged from her room by now, watching you gather your things with sad eyes. 

“This isn't a phase! I have a life. A good life.” Is the last thing you say before you slam the door and barrel for the stairs. Tears blur your vision as you stumble down the stairs, you need to get out of here as soon as possible, you doubt you’ll ever come back. You’ll run away with The Doctor and stay gone. The Tardis is your home now anyway, you love her. You push through the doors of the complex building and look up to where the Tardis is parked only to see that she’s gone. 

“No, where did he go?” You cry, your tears coming out heavier. You press the heels of your palms into your eyes. 

“No, no Doctor, where are you? I need you, you idiot!” You cry softly, your chest tightening when you realize you’ll have to go back to your parents apartment to wait for him. You know he’s coming back, he is. He wouldn’t leave you here, you know he wouldn’t. He’s going to come back and get you. He promised. 

The Tardis lands in the lawn, just where it was before and The Doctor rushes for the doors. He hopes he timed it correctly because you’ll be cross with him if he’s late. He just had a quick errand to run, which was actually picking up your favorite and rare snacks from around the galaxy. He knows visits home are difficult for you because of your Mother so he made you a little care package for when you get back. It also has bath spa stuff, and some of your favorite movies.

The Doctor won’t admit his feelings for you to even himself, he’s literally never breathed the words aloud. The feelings he has for you are a lot like the Tardis, bigger on the inside. So big they fill every corner of his mind and consume his every thought with you. Where are you? Are you safe? What are you doing? Do you miss him? Do you think about going home? The list goes on, everything he does is for you. Every time he’s fighting to protect the Universe, he’s mostly fighting to protect you. Them too, but mostly you. 

He throws the doors open and instantly both hearts have dropped to his stomach. It’s evening, and not only that but according to the newspaper- it’s evening and 4 months from when he dropped you off. He left you here, with your Mother, for 4 months. The Doctor is immediately sprinting for the stairs, you’re never going to forgive him for this. He makes it up the stairs in record time, turning for your parents door and knocking frantically. Nobody answers, so he keeps on pounding and he doesn’t care if he wakes everybody up. He knows your Mother, remembers the horrible stories you’ve told him about her, he needs to get you out of here now. 

Eventually the door opens to reveal Jeanie standing in a tank top and fuzzy pajama pants. She smiles when she sees him, her face bright. 

“Doctor!” She exclaims, throwing her arms around him. She adores him even though she’s only met him a few times. 

“Thank goodness you’re here. Are you here to get Y/N?” She asks and The Doctor looks over the top of her head into your family's apartment. The lights are on, and it looks like Jeanie is the only one home. 

“Hello Jeanette! Yes, she in?” He asks, already making his way inside the apartment. Jeanie kicks the door shut with her foot, heading back into the living room where her movie was paused. The Doctor is the only one who calls Jeanie by her full name, 'Jeanette', and surprisingly he's the only one she lets call her that.

“Wait, why did you say that? 'Thank Goodness'?” He asks, turning and bending down to look right in Jeanie’s eyes. 

“Well it’s just that my Mum has been horrible to her, wrote up this contract to marry her off.” Jeanie explains and The Doctor feels dread ball up in the pit of his stomach. Marry? As in marriage? As in you’d be marrying another man? The Doctor doesn’t say anything as he races down the hallway to your bedroom door. 

You’re sitting at your desk, your chest aching. You know he’s coming back, that’s not even a question in your mind. He’s just…late sometimes. You really have no idea how long you’ll be waiting here for him, could be a few months, could be many years. You have been ignoring your Mother and the contract. It’s laying out on your desk, you admittedly read it. If you had 3 brain cells and the talents of a half-dead gnat you’d see your Mothers point. The terms could be worse, but your life after signing this contract would be a living hell. You’d have to have sex with Todd, and the thought of ever letting him touch you again was appalling. The thought of carrying and birthing his children was even more appalling. You just wanted The Doctor here so bad, you wanted him to sweep you away back into your little dream life you shared with him. Your chest ached as hot tears stung your eyes, where is he? 

Suddenly, at that exact moment, you hear rapid and harsh knocking on your door. 

“Y/N? Open the door, it’s me. I’m so sorry I’m late sweetheart.” It’s The Doctor, you can hear the panic in his voice through the wood of your door. Your bedroom door doesn’t have a lock, so he can enter if he wants to but The Doctor has this silly rule that he’ll never enter your space without your permission. You stand, the relief fading away to anger. He left you here, for 4 months! You cross your arms, you want him to grovel a little. 

“Please, darling open the door. Let me explain.” He begs softly, not hearing anything on the other side of your door. You creep closer to your door, you can hear him breathing heavily on the other side. Your chest warms, did he sprint all the way up here from the Tardis? 

“I didn’t mean to leave you here sweetheart, I promise I didn’t. You know the Tardis, she does what she wants! I didn’t leave you here on purpose, please talk to me.” The Doctor tries again, pressing his forehead against the door. Your fingers trail lightly over the handle, you’re not ready to open the door yet. Not ready to ease his panic, not after he left you for 4 months. Hearing the pet names is helping, though you won’t tell him that. 

“Y/N, is this because you want to marry that man your Mother is trying to ship you off to?” The Doctor asks hesitantly, afraid that you’ll answer the door with a diamond engagement ring on your finger. You open the door, and the first thing you do is slap him hard across the cheek. Tears are building in your eyes, and you want to stay strong. You want to stay mad at him for what he did, but the desperation in his eyes as he looks down at you breaks your heart. When the first tear falls, The Doctor is back in your space. His thumb brushes the tear away while his arms pull you against his chest. He wraps his arms around you and holds you tenderly, one hand cradling your head against his chest. He presses a kiss to the top of your head, closing his eyes while muttering soft apologies against your hair. 

You pull back to look at him your voice thick with tears, “I don’t want to marry Todd. I’ve been waiting for you, you complete idiot.” 

The Doctor presses you firmly against him, guilt beginning to seep in. He hates that he hurt you, he hates that when you needed him he wasn’t here. He hates that he left you. You turn your head to look up at him again, The Doctor’s hand still cupping your cheek. His other hand reaches up to cup your other cheek, his eyes studying yours. You hold your breath, eyes glancing from his to his lips. Is he going to kiss you? You want him to kiss you, really bad. He pulls you closer to him, and then he does it. He can’t help it, the way your watery eyes are looking up at him tempt him to you. He presses his lips gently against yours for a soft kiss. He tries to pull back, but you curl your hands around his jacket and pull him back to you roughly. 

The Doctor’s body collides with yours, and his arms curl around your back as your lips move desperately against his. You can tell he intended for this to be a soft and sweet kiss, he’s old fashioned like that. But you’ve been waiting for this for so long, you can’t control your hands as they pull him closer to you, as close as he can get. You want to feel every inch of his body pressed against yours. But his hands press against your shoulders, pushing you back lightly. He doesn’t let you get too far though, he keeps his arms around you and your body pressed firmly against his. His eyes are wide, and there’s a cheeky grin pulling at his face. 

“Well hello.” The Doctor says softly, his forehead resting against yours. Your cheeks color, suddenly feeling shy under his gaze. You hate that you’re so much shorter than him, he however revels in this fact. 

“Shall we go home?” He asks, stepping into your room to grab your handbag. He spots the contract sitting on your desk, flipped open to the 197th page, and a highlighter sitting on top. 

“Y/N, were you considering this?” He asks, both hearts nervously racing. In truth, you weren’t. You just had nothing better to do waiting for him then look over this stupid contract. However, you still wanted to make The Doctor squirm a little. 

“Maybe...how was I to know when you’d come back? You said you accidentally left Amy for 12 years. How was I supposed to know you would come back so soon!” You exclaim, loving the way he anxiously shifts from foot to foot. 

“So you were?” He asked, wounded sad eyes looking up at you. 

“He was good in bed.” You lie, he was terrible in bed and you only slept with him the one time. It was so awful you never did it again, he didn’t warm you up and finished in 30 seconds. The Doctor stiffens, a much different look in his eyes now. Something fierce and angry shines in them, and his hands begin to twitch. 

“Have you slept with him recently? Since you’ve been waiting for me?” The Doctor asked, and he knows he doesn’t really have a right to ask. He shouldn’t, it’s improper enough to make him blush, usually. Now however, he’s too angry to pay attention to how improper and forward it is. 

“What would you do if I said yes?” You asked softly, eyes peering up at him as he slowly approached you. The Doctor wrapped one arm around your body, yanking you against him. You were breathless as your hands landed on his chest, your lust blown eyes staring up at him almost dreamily. His lips were brushing against yours, you could feel his breath. 

“Has he seen you? Touched you? Recently?” The Doctor asks again, although this one sounded more like a demand than a question. He ghosts his lips over yours, and you so desperately want him to kiss you again. 

“No, no I was just trying to make you angry.” You admit wantonly, pressing yourself against him and trying to lean up on your tippy toes to connect your lips. The Doctor hums, allowing you a short but heated kiss before he pulls back again. 

“You did.” He confirms, kissing you once, twice, three times before the sound of the front door closing gets both your attention. You exit your room first, and the sight before you makes anger bubble in your chest. It’s your Mother, standing in the living room with Todd Farlan. The man you will not be marrying. He doesn't look like he wants to be here, your Mother likely made him.

“What the hell is this?” You snap, feeling a warm presence behind you. Your Mother narrows her eyes at The Doctor, especially at the close proximity between the two of you. 

“Is this why you’ve been so impertinent? Because you love this man?” Your Mother sneers, and Todd looks very uncomfortable. 

“Yes! I love The Doctor, and nothing you say or do will change that. I’m not going to marry Todd.” You snap, and you feel The Doctor gently take your hand in his. You pull him towards the door, sending your little sister a sad smile before exiting the apartment. The two of you walk back to the Tardis in silence, but your hand stays wrapped safely in his. You realize suddenly that you really do feel safe with The Doctor in all ways, you know your heart is safe with him too. He opens the door for you and your eyes water at the basket sitting on the console. It’s filled with all of your favorite things, things for a perfect relaxing day in. 

“Did you do that?” You ask, knowing there’s nobody else who could have done it. 

“It's why I was late.” He says sadly, eyes meeting yours when you move to stand right in front of him. You don’t say anything, you just wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him tenderly. Now that he’s kissed you, you don’t ever want to stop kissing him. His hands find your hips and he gives you a small smile. 

“It’s alright, I forgive you.” You say softly, and he presses his forehead against yours. 

“Doctor?” You breathe, you squirm as you feel a nervous wriggling in your belly. You can’t really believe you’re about to say this, but the aching from between your thighs is unbearable and only he can fix it. He hums, his attention on you, one of his hands coming up to cup your cheek. 

“I…I want-” You cut yourself off, you can’t say this. You can’t. The Doctor already knows what you want, can see it in the way your fingers play absentmindedly with the button of his trousers. He really wants to hear you say it though. 

“What do you want, my love? C’mon darling, use your words.” The Doctor prods gently, and you squirm under his knowing gaze. 

“More.” You reply, your voice small and quiet. The Doctor presses a loving kiss to your forehead. 

“More what?” He asks, and you give him a look that says, you’re really going to make me say it? 

“More kissing, more touching.” You explain shyly, and The Doctor’s smile only grows. The Doctor’s hands lift you up from under your thighs, you sequel in surprise as your legs wrap around his hips. You can feel him hardening in his trousers, and you moan softly when he presses against your aching center. His arms wind around your back, pressing you close to him as his lips press to your neck. The sound makes a shiver ripple down his spine, he wants to hear you make that sound again and again and again. The Doctor isn’t paying attention to where he’s going, being far too occupied with your quiet moaning to look so the Tardis helps and materializes your room right in front of him. 

He stumbles through the door and to your bed, placing you gently onto it. He leans back and looks down at you, the stunning view in front of him not one he wants to take his eyes off anytime soon. Your loose tank top you’d been wearing for bed has slipped down, your breasts practically spilling out of it. Your pajama shorts were hiking up, revealing more and more of your thighs. The Doctor feels nearly overwhelmed with lust, he takes a deep breath to calm himself down. He doesn’t want to hurt you because he’s lost himself in a lust-filled frenzy. 

“Is this alright?” The Doctor asks softly, and you nod. You look up at him with wide, innocent eyes. It warms him up from the inside out, and he leans down over you to kiss you again. He moves slowly, languidly, softly against your lips as he lays you more firmly against the mattress. He is old fashioned after all, and is it not the gentlemans job to take care of all his loves needs? The Doctor’s hands thumb the hem of your tank top, and you lean up to let him lift it off you. Your bare chest is instantly revealed to him, you were about to go to bed, you hadn’t been wearing a bra. Your cheeks color and warm. 

“Beautiful my love, absolutely beautiful.” The Doctor breathed in awe, leaning down to press his lips against your soft skin. His lips landed between your breasts and The Doctor closed his eyes, it’s been a very long time since he has even attempted to indulge this rather primal need. Not since he was with his wife on Gallifrey, and even she passed a few years before the Time War- point is: it’s been a really really long time and The Doctor is struggling to restrain himself. His lips travel across your breasts, stopping at your nipple to bite gently and pull a few soft, desperate moans from you. 

“Please don’t go anywhere.” You beg suddenly, and the desperation hiding in your tone makes The Doctor’s chest hurt. 

“I won’t my love, I’m here. I’ll take care of everything, just lay back alright?” The Doctor says lovingly, and you can only nod dumbly. He hooks his thumbs into your shorts and presses a kiss to your hip bone before pulling them down and off your feet, tossing them behind him. He feels a swell of heat rush through his entire body, and he is rock hard by now. You aren’t wearing any panties, and he can instantly see your wet cunt. He can smell your wet cunt, being a Time Lord has that effect. It’s intoxicating, and slowly driving him mad. He takes your ankles and roughly yanks you down the bed, his composure is slipping. 

“How long?” You ask, you can feel his palms shaking. Can see how lost and unfocused his eyes are. They are scanning your entire body, and he’s mouthing hotly at your neck and breasts. You feel like you’re floating on cloud nine, one hand coming up to cradle the back of his head, holding him firmly to you. 

“Too long.” Is what he mumbles against you, his fingers reaching up to unbutton his vest. His jacket has long since been thrown off, and his bowtie discarded in the pile somewhere as well. 

“You have so many layers.” You whine, and The Doctor smiles at the neediness in your tone. He presses your hips together then, momentarily holding onto your hips so he can grind himself against you. 

“Patience my love.” He smiles, finally shaking off his vest and shirt. Your hands are instantly exploring his smooth warm chest, touching all the skin that’s been revealed to you. He leans over you again, his lips pressing against yours. His lips move slowly against yours, and you moan softly against his mouth. The Doctor trails his hands down your stomach lightly, and along your inner thighs. You’ve parted your legs wider to make room for him, and the Doctor reaches down to release some pressure in his trousers. He unbuttons them and yanks the zipper down, releasing a sigh as some of the suffocating pressure is released. 

“More.” You beg against his lips softly, and how could The Doctor deny such a request from his love? He trails his hands up your inner thighs, and he finally parts your folds gently, feeling for your entrance. 

“Oh,” You gasp, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. The Doctor carefully slides 2 fingers inside you, and you moan at the sudden intrusion. 

“I’m sorry my love, was that too much?” The Doctor asks, panic seeping in that he’s done something wrong because he can’t control his impulses. But to his surprise, you shake your head quickly, your head tossed to the side and your bottom lip pulled between your teeth. 

“No, please keep going, my love.” You beg quickly, wriggling your hips so he starts moving. The Doctor smiles, pressing a kiss to your neck as he starts to thrust his fingers into you at a slow and steady pace, he wants to take you apart lovingly, carefully, not rough and hasty. That’s not what you deserve. You moan louder, more desperately as your back arches and you press your bare chest against his.

The Doctor is having a hard time believing this is really happening.

He keeps thrusting his fingers into you, and you can feel your orgasm slowly building. The Doctor pulls back to look at your face, and the look on your face takes his breath away. Your head is tossed back against the pillow, your eyes closed and your mouth parted as you moan and cry out in his ear. The Doctor thinks this right here might be heaven, and he doesn’t even believe in heaven. 

“I’m going to come, oh God Doctor please please-” You’re rambling, and The Doctor keeps moving his fingers. You squeeze around him suddenly, coming and gushing around him. The Doctor groans against your neck, his cock throbbing in his trousers at the sight of you soaked and twitching from oversensitivity. After a few minutes of The Doctor pressing gentle kisses to your neck, chest and collarbones while you recovered from your orgasm, you looked up at him again. 

“More.” You said again and The Doctor smiled fondly above you, and he swears if it were possible, there would be cartoon hearts circling above his head. 

“Are you sure you can handle more my love?” The Doctor asks softly and you nod quickly. 

“Yes please, I um… I want to feel you inside me. I want to be yours.” You admit, avoiding looking in his eyes by trailing your fingers across the moles and occasional freckles across his neck and shoulders. The Doctor’s mind goes completely blank at your words, the lust overpowering everything else. Your words go straight to his cock, and he presses his lips against yours quickly. 

“You’re already mine.” He promises between kisses and you believe him. You reach your hand down, pushing at his trousers and boxers beneath. The Doctor helps you finish undressing him, and he kicks his trousers off to the side before leaning over you again. 

“Y/N, my love, are you absolutely sure you want to do this?” The Doctor asks, he needs to ask. Needs to know you want this, needs to know you won’t come to your senses later and realize you made a mistake. He wouldn’t be able to bear it. Sex was not something that was casual to The Doctor, he didn’t have sex ever. Unless it was with someone he really, truly loved. 

“Yes I’m sure, please I can’t take it anymore. I want to feel you.” You beg, eliminating any fear from The Doctor’s mind of you changing your mind. The Doctor leaned back then, grasping the base of his cock with one hand while he braced himself over you with the other. He lined himself up with your entrance, dragging his tip from your entrance to your clit to warm you up. The Doctor pressed his lips against yours, he was a romantic at heart. He wanted, needed, to be close to you. He eased himself into you as soon as your lips touched, and your back rose, pressing your chest against him as you cried out sharply. 

“You’re so big oh my God-” You gasp, and The Doctor cradles you lovingly against him and he slowly works himself inside you. 

“I’m sorry sweetheart, Time Lords weren’t designed to breed with Humans. There’s a bit of a size difference.” He explains, his voice strained. You’re so tight, so wet and warm, and you’re squeezing him so so tightly. Once The Doctor has his pelvis pressed flush against yours he stays still, to calm the racing of his hearts. You’re squirming against him, gasping and moaning as slick gushes out of you. The intrusion is intense, and the stretch it takes to accommodate him burns. 

“Darling, is it too much? Do you need me to stop?” The Doctor asks when he notices the pain on your face, even though the thought of stopping now seems impossible. 

“Don’t you dare.” You warn, eyes watery as you look up at him. The Doctor holds your body against his, propping himself on his forearms above you. Your legs wind around his waist, and your arms grasp at his shoulders. The Doctor kisses your forehead as he pulls his hips back, all the way back until just the tip is inside you. Then he swiftly slides back into you at a steady pace. Not too fast, not too slow. You cry out desperately as he steadily thrusts into you, panting against your shoulder. The Doctor pulls his head back to watch where you two connect, the place where both of you become one. The sight of his cock disappearing inside you again and again makes The Doctor feel tingly and warm all over. 

The Doctor leans down to capture your lips in a kiss, and you moan against him as your legs begin to tremble. 

“Going to come-” You whine desperately, and The Doctor changes the angle of his hips just enough to make your toes curl and tears to slip from the corners of your eyes. The Doctor reaches one hand up to swirl at your clit, rubbing it in soft, gentle circles. The other hand cups your cheek, wiping gently at your tears.

“Come for me my love, I want to feel you.” The Doctor breathes and that’s all you need to tumble over the edge. You squeeze around him, and your nails bite into his shoulders, dragging upwards as you cry out and writhe against him. The Doctor curls his arms around your body to try and hold you still, and your eyes meet his and it’s simply erotic. 

“Keep looking at me.” The Doctor instructs and you force your eyes open so you can keep looking at him. The pleasure is overwhelming, he keeps thrusting and it keeps going, the hot pleasure washing over you. 

“Where do you want me to- God- to come my love?” The Doctor asks and you know where instantly. 

“Inside me, please please come inside me.” You beg, and The Doctor groans against you as he buries his face in your neck. The Doctor keeps pushing into you, until he presses himself as deep as he can go and you feel him coming inside you in hot spurts. The Doctor presses his forehead against yours, and you feel him softening inside you. 

“Are you alright, my love?” He asks, but you don’t respond. The Doctor pulls back instantly, his hands cradling your face. Your eyes are closed. Panic spikes hot in his chest, did he hurt you? Time Lords and Humans don’t normally have sex, was it too much for you? 

“Y/N, my love, open your eyes.” The Doctor pleads, and you slowly peek one eye open. A smile tugs at your lips when you see the worry in his eyes. 

“I’m just relaxing, you worry too much.” You tease, and The Doctor releases a shaky breath. 

“You scared me.” He says, carefully pulling himself out of your warm heat. You whine, lazily grabbing at his hips as he withdraws himself from you. 

“I have to clean you up my love.” The Doctor whispers softly, pressing kisses to your hairline as he scoops you up in his arms. He carries you to the bathroom and places you gently on the counter. The counter is cold beneath your heated skin and you jump when he puts you down. The Doctor kisses your temple before leaning down to draw your bath. After the water has started to fill the tub, he turns for the door. 

“Wait, where are you going?” You ask nervously, you don’t want him to go. The Doctor smiles fondly at you, kissing your head. 

“I’ll be right back my love, I’m going to get all that fancy bath stuff I got you.” The Doctor kisses you and then retreats from the bathroom. You smile to yourself, feeling happiness overwhelming you before you slide into the warm bath water. 

[alder-saan]

His sister...

Larissa x normie! fem! reader

OKAY this is the second time I post it bcz... well that was a wip and I posted it... I hate myself right now. Anyway I have to re-wright it. All of it. But that's okay :) (no that's not I wanna end myself)

Warnings : smut (that's the first time I write smut lol (the second as I already wrote this fic)) (the smut isn't with Larissa)

You are Larissa's brother's wife.

word count: ~3000

(I know this will look a bit like Mme Bovary, but... well, it's not a classic of French literature for nothing)

You had married Philip Weems two months earlier. You didn’t love him. He was eleven years older than you, and not really your type. In fact you didn’t really choose to be his wife and to live in his house. Your father and him wanted to reunite their companies, and you were only there to make it look less commercial. You were here to give an heir. Lovely mission, you were not a woman anymore, you were a baby machine. He had flirted with you before you took the deal, probably to build up your confidence and make it easier for you to accept the situation, but now that you were his, he didn't pay any attention to you.

In his big house, your life was boring. You didn't have a degree, school was never really for you and because your father was rich, you never had to work. So naturally you had resumed reading. It allowed you to live a different life through the eyes of all the characters. And all day long you would read more and more of those mushy novels, dreaming of a life that was no longer available to you. You also started writing, but without telling anyone. It was a bit of a secret. You wrote the romantic stories you imagined all day. And then every day you went out to see your friends in a café in your neighbourhood.

“I promise, Jess’, he doesn’t bother me. I mean, he’s respectful. And I don’t need to work. A win is a win.”

Your friend Jessica narrowed her eyes.

“You sure ? I mean… you always told me you wanted to marry the love of your life when you’d find him.”

“I was younger, Jess’. I don’t believe in this bullshit anymore.”

Yes, you did believe it. You wanted to cry about it. You wanted to know Love. The Real Love. You wanted to meet him by accident in a library, or in a hostel, on the other side of the world. You wanted him to be young, at the same age as you, and you wanted him to love you.

You also wanted to work, to earn your own money.

“Respectful, okay but is he good?” Mary asked

“He is kind, if this is your question.” You pretended not to understand.

“You know what I mean, Y/N.”

“Not really, I doubt he is really interested in me. I mean I am probably too young for him. We just do it because that was a part of the contract, but he never makes me finish. Anyway I don’t need him for that.”

“You don’t love him and he doesn’t look after you. What a nightmare…” Jessica said.

“That’s not that bad. I don't have to worry about money, I have all my days to myself. I can look after myself.“

That wasn’t a positive thing in your opinion. You wanted to be independent. You wanted to be able to do whatever you could want. This made you feel like you were an object, some kind of trophy that he could show off at the parties you attended. You were there to be beautiful and to be silent. 

No, the real positive thing was that you now understood your mother, and why she left you when you were a child. Your father always told you she was a bad mother and she didn’t love you. And before you got married, you were mad at her. But you knew, now you were married to a man you didn’t love. She didn’t love you, but she probably never wanted this marriage nor a child. You were thinking of leaving once you'd given Philip a child, the way she did before.

You wanted to find her, and to talk to her. You wanted to know the story of her life, of her marriage to your father. You also wanted to tell her that you understood her, and that you were no longer angry at her for abandoning you. If she hadn't wanted to be your mother, you wanted her to be your friend, because you were going through something she had gone through too..

“Alright girls, I gotta go. See you tomorrow!” You waved at them and left the café after paying for your drink.

It was time for you to go back to your home. Your husband would be home in less than half an hour. You had to help Livia cook. It wasn't in the contract, but you wanted to do it. Livia, although she spoke very little English, made you feel less lonely. She spoke to you in her half-Spanish English about her travels with her family. Even though she often told the same stories, you liked to hear her talk about places you had never seen. Especially when she talked about the sea of clouds over the Sierra Madre. You dreamed of going there. She told you that when she came back to visit her parents, she could take you there. But you knew your husband wouldn't let you go... And then you helped her to speak better English, she had made progress in the last two months. She taught you Spanish too, but for now, the only things you could say were "Soy Y/N, no me gusta mi marido" and some names of foods and ingredients.

Then, your husband would go home, and you would have dinner. He would watch tv, and the both of you would go to bed, and you would have to fuck. 

Soon, he would fall asleep next to you.

And every night, after that, you used to imagine another man. Sometimes it was an explorer who would tell you about his many journeys, a writer who would make you read his most intimate texts, a painter who would take you for his muse... 

But that night, he was a sailor. A handsome sailor you would have met in the inn where you were working. He would have asked for a room for the night and a meal. And while you were serving him, he would have made a few passes at you, to which you would have responded by teasing him. If at the beginning, it would have been innocent, you would have quickly come to the point where he would have proposed you to spend the night with him, at the end of your service. To which you would have replied with a "maybe", but as soon as your boss allowed you to leave, you would have knocked on his door.

“I was wondering when you’d come…” he would tell you.

Then he would take your waist and hold you close. You would kiss him, and it would become wilder as his hands would travel to your ass. He would gently but firmly push you against the wall.

“You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.” He would whisper. You would know that was a lie, but you wouldn’t care. And he would know it.

He would kiss your neck while undressing you. And when you would be completely naked, he would sit you on the bed and spread your legs to kiss your inner thighs, then your clit. He would lick your arousal and you would moan his name.

In your bed, you were circling your clit, legs spread, a hand massaging your breast. You imagined his head facing your wet pussy, saying you were tasting divine, his hands all over your body, caressing your skin. You were already so close and as he would ask you to hold on a little, you waited a few seconds before allowing you to come. 

Next to you, your husband was sleeping.

Soon, you fell asleep too.

The sun was brushing your skin, slowly warming it. You opened your eyes. You were alone in your giant bed. Philip was already gone. You heard the clock striking nine. He used to leave the house near seven o’clock. You stretched your arms and legs and yawned. Watching towards the window, you could see the blue sky. This day promised to be good. You quickly showered and dressed up. Something simple. Black tights, dark skirt, white shirt. A safe bet. But to add a small personal touch, you clipped a blue tit pin on your shirt. 

You always liked blue tit. Firstly because they were cute. A tiny bird, yellow and blue, with a kind of large eye liner and white cheeks. Secondly because you wished to go to Europe once. You wanted to travel to Austria, or Germany, and this Eurasian tit symbolised this dream.

Maybe one day you would quit New Hampshire.

Something on the dresser caught your eye. Some 50 dollar notes had been put there by your husband. He had written a message on a piece of paper: "so you can go shopping today, we have a guest for lunch".

You frowned and crumpled the paper. So he wanted you to look good with his guest, uh? 

“I’m not a teen who needs pocket money.” you grumbled. 

You put on black shoes, music in your earphones, and went out of the house. In the streets, the sun was warming the asphalt, and your steps led you almost automatically to the little café bakery in which you usually  bought your breakfast.

Opening the door, a smell of butter, sugar and vanilla reached your nostrils. By 9 am, not many people were left. But you would have noticed her in a crowd of thousands of people. She was sitting on a chair, a big cup of hot chocolate and a croissant on the table in front of her. Her blonde hair in a perfect updo, she wore a clear blue dress. She was looking at the window, her phone in one hand. She was so tall… Your mouth went dry when you noticed her red lipstick as she turned her head towards you. She had caught you staring in the glass reflection. She gave you a smile, and you were sure your cheeks became as red as her lips. You turned your head to the counter to order, removing your earphones.

Were you just staring at a woman?

Did she just smile at you?

You glanced over your shoulder. She was still looking at you, her blue eyes fixed on you, crossing her legs. She took a sip in her cup.

“Hot…” you whispered.

“Excuse me, Y/N?” the waiter asked.

“Yes-yes, Nicolas, er, I-I want a-a hot chocolate please. And… and, er… a profiterole please. Takeaway.”

“Ready in a second.”

You couldn’t stand her look, it made your knees go weak. Was it what Jess called a “gay panic?”. You had to know and tipped a message.

: Hey, Jess

: What exactly is a gay panic?

She was quick to respond.

J: When you look at a girl and you want to like… kiss her. Immediately. And you can’t function properly bcz you think about her kissing you.

J: Why?

: There is this woman at Nic’ and Jane

: I never felt like this for a woman.

: She’s so beautiful, I want her lipstick on my lips and on my throat right now.

J: Oh my god

J: You’re gay!

: Am I?

J: You ARE.

“Y/N?” Nicolas said.

“Uh? Yes, it’s me”

“I have your hot chocolate and your profiterole.”

“Thanks”

“Is everything okay? You seem distracted…”

“Yeah, I’m fine, thank you. Is it okay if I pay later? I forgot my wallet at home.”

“Of course, whenever you want.”

You took the paper bag he handed to you and went out of the café-bakery. The fresh air was really needed. You put your earphones back on.

Who was she?

You had never seen her. 

Walking the street, you arrived in the big park in which you always ate your breakfast. Your favourite place was in a sort of hidden place, under a badly pruned weeping willow. There was a bench, and a little pond in which ducks used to swim when you were a kid, but now, there were only frogs left. Sometimes, a grey heron you named Alex was fishing in it. A grey heron in New Hampshire. That was the local attraction. It escaped an aviary two years ago and settled up in the park. No one tried to catch it. And now, it was the star of the neighbourhood's children, who often tried to find it. Sometimes, when it was in the pond, you would talk to it, as if it could understand what you were saying. And for the only answer, Alex would keep fishing, at the other side of the pond.

But this day, no Alex in the pond. And the frogs were happily jumping in the grass. The sunshine passing between the branches of the willow tree made thousands of small sun spots on the now shimmering  water. You wiped the bench full of willow leaves with your hand and sat there.

While drinking your hot chocolate, you thought about this woman, in the café bakery… 

You wanted to see her again…

You had just finished your hot chocolate and ate your pastry when you heard footsteps in your back. You hoped no one would pass the curtain of leaves which hid you from the world. You liked to be alone, daydreaming about people you would never see again… Shit, they entered your secret garden. You sighed.

“What a pleasant surprise!”

You turned your head. That was her. She was there, next to you. Your eyes widened, your cheeks went red.

“Hi-uh… Hello.” You managed to say.

“Y/N, isn’t it? Can I sit here?”

“Y-yes, of course. How-how do you know my name?”

“I heard the waiter say it.” She sat, smiling at you. “My name is Larissa.”

“Larissa…” you whispered. Her name was quite unusual, and you liked it, you liked the way it sounded. You couldn’t look at her so you just fixed the water.  But in your peripheral vision you saw her smirk.

“And I paid your order.”

You turned your head towards her. Big mistake, now you couldn't take your eyes off hers.

“Oh no, you shouldn’t have…”

“And you should have sat with me in the bakery. I’m glad I found you.”

“Wh-why?”

Her look went down on your lips. You felt your cheeks warming.

“I don’t know” she said “I thought you could show me a good time…”

“I-I want to pay you back.”

“You don’t have to.”

“But I want to.”

“Mh, if you really want to, there is something you could do.”

“And what is it?”

Her hand approached your cheek. You held your breath. Was she about to kiss you? Your heart hammered in your chest as she stared again at your lips. 

“I-I am a married woman.”

She froze. You held your breath. The wind blew and some willow leaves fell on you, the frogs and the pond.

“I’m sorry. I think I misunderstood your signals” She gave you a soft smile.

She started to pull her hand away from your cheek but you held it back.

“No you didn’t. I-I just thought that was unfair not to tell you.”

“I don’t understand…”

“That’s not a love marriage. I don’t love him, he doesn’t love me.”

“Oh. I’m so sorry.”

You shook your head. You didn’t like this pity gaze on you.

“Don’t. That’s okay.”

“You know, I was almost forced into a marriage, so I think I can understand what you feel.”

Her? Her, forced into a marriage? You suddenly felt understood, and safe with her. She took your hand.

“My former fiancé learnt I wasn’t a normie and refused the marriage.”

“What do you mean by a normie? You mean straight?”

“Yeah, I mean straight.” She didn’t want to tell you she was an outcast.

“To be honest I learnt I wasn’t today.”

“Am I your gay awakening?” Her smile grew bigger as you nodded.

She kissed you. Her lips were soft. Both of her hands on your cheeks, yours were on her hips. She left a last kiss on your cheekbone and smiled.

“How about a walk? Maybe you could show me the city.” She said.

“Of course, follow me.” You smiled.

You stood up and the both of you came out from under the willow.

“What was yours?” you asked, leading her on a path in the park.

“My gay awakening?”

“Yes”

You looked at her looking at the big trees. 

“My brother’s first girlfriend. He always had good tastes in women. By the way, are you from this town? Because I’m visiting him, and he said he would send me the address but he seemed to have forgotten. Can’t blame him, he has a lot of work.”

“Yes, of course, I live in the neighbourhood. I might know him, what’s his name?”

“Philip Weems.”

You frowned. What did she say?

“I didn’t hear, can you repeat, please?”

“His name is Philip Weems.”

That was official, you just kissed your husband’s sister. What were you supposed to say? Was she the guest for lunch? 

“Are you okay? If you don’t know where he lives, that’s okay.”

“I know where he lives.”

“Good morning Mrs Weems” a gardener said.

“Goo-good morning, Mr Johnson. How are you today?” you replied.

Larissa frowned. Did she know him?

And you cursed him for saying that right now.

“I’m fine, and you?”

“I’m fine.”

And he continued sweeping the path beside you.

“Mrs Weems, uh? You’re Philip’s wife.”

“I am.”

She chuckled.

“That only makes you more attractive…”

_______________________________________________

Hope you enjoyed <3

[burning-academia-if]

Bonus Short Story: Zoe

Word Count: 4.6k

Summary: Snapshots from the life of a child who used curiosity to escape loneliness.

CW: brief mentions of transphobia

A/N: Thanks again for one hundred reviews and enjoy Zoe's backstory! It's the lightest of all of them, and also has some fun lore bits tossed in lol

Zoe hadn’t always been their name, and sometimes they wondered if they’d gotten it right. Their old name isn’t relevant to the story, except in the very beginning. When, at a very young age with a vocabulary so limited that they had to mime with their tiny hands the concepts they were trying to tell adults about, the sound of it had felt wrong. They didn’t have the words for why either.

In books and shows and movies, sometimes characters took on fake names for fake identities and Zoe started doing the same. They ran through names, some so utterly ridiculous it brought more joy then concern to any adult listening. Others made eyebrows draw together and wordless frowns burn their throat.

It was why, when they uttered the name ‘Zoe’ and it only got cursory shrugs they lunged for it. Gripped it with their hands. This time, maybe, people would take them seriously. This time, maybe, people wouldn’t laugh at the name they chose themself. This time, maybe, people would respect the one thing that belonged to them. But that wouldn't be until the end of youth. When it already felt far too late.

//

Zoe's mom and dad hadn't ever cared, at least. The two of them would call Zoe whatever name they wanted as seriously as they would have the name they'd originally given. There had never been any expectations for them to grow out of it, and their mom was the one who went to the teachers and told each one Zoe was allowed to write down whatever name they wanted. No teacher would tell them otherwise.

It was easy to grow, in the house they did. It was harder to grow anywhere outside of it. School was full of watching eyes that questioned everything Zoe did. They had failed every social interaction they'd ever been in and elementary school was a haphazard of pitfalls that lead straight to being the 'weird kid.'

Their little brother was different. From the moment he was born, everyone found him charming. Brighter, cuter, easier. He didn't question everything and go through names like packs of candies. Others might have been irritated, but Zoe was five years older and from the moment they'd set eyes on him decided it was their job to protect him. They didn't want him to know what it was to escape to a library to hide the way they were crying over being left out during recess again.

At home, Zoe would sit in the grass in the small garden their mom had, watching bugs flutter about. She wouldn't say a word, hair wrapped up in a bandanna, braids falling down her back and dark skin gleaming in the spring sun. Her hands were nimble as she turned the earth, covering seeds with soil.

It'd take minutes, it'd take hours, for them to finally talk, "I don't want to go to school anymore, ma."

"And why's that sweet pea?"

There was a butterfly, small and white, fluttering against the wooden fence. Lost and too early to the season. Their own body felt too small for them, ribs squeezing all their organs. Maybe it felt the same. Escaped from it's cocoon early to search for a way to be free in a different kind of form. To stretch its wings and go as far as it could before being devoured.

They were eleven now, at the end of elementary school. They couldn't imagine middle school, weren't ready for the new challenges it would come with when they hadn't even managed to overcome a single one they'd encountered in school so far. Their toes curled into the grass, rolling around words on their tongue.

"It's like...it's like everyone was born with a script to a movie except for me. I don't get the words I'm supposed to say, or why what I say is wrong. It's like...like..." Their face scrunched up, not knowing how to explain the wall they were always banging against. At how they tried to mimic how everyone spoke and interacted with each other and missed the steps each time.

Their mom set her tools down and turned to look at them, "Is this about your name again?"

"No! I mean, kinda? All the kids already thought I'm a freak because I don't use the name you and pa gave me and maybe that's where everything went wrong. Maybe I showed up wrong and so now, no matter what I say it'll be wrong. I don't know how to get the other kids to like me. I'm too scared to keep trying. I go to school and there's no one to talk to and I'm so lonely and I'm so...lonely..." Tears pricked their eyes and they buried their face in their knees. Curled themself up tight so they didn't have to see the look of pity on their mom's face.

A door slid open, and a body, tiny, crashed into theirs. They gasped, teetering over onto the grass, arm flinging out to cradle their brother without a second thought. He wrapped his arms around their middle, eyes squeezed tight.

In a daze, they looked over and saw their dad with a twist of a smile in apology and a gentle one on their mom's face. Their brother said, louder then he probably realized, "No no no. You're sad. Being sad isn't fun."

"It isn't." They said, trying not to laugh. To cry. They didn't want to talk to another soul again. They didn't have a choice.

//

They couldn't use magic, either, which felt like another mark in a sea of marks against them. When they'd gone to do the required assessment at thirteen, it'd been a whole lot of nods and 'hmms' and other things that made them feel like they were a specimen under a microscope.

"You have a stronger magical presence, but it certainly isn't something you have access to."

Didn't they know. Between their constant failures of connecting to kids at school and trying to talk with other magicians, their inability to be anything had been a barrier in all ways. Everyone knew luck magicians weren't seen as real magicians, and in the rare instances Zoe was forced to go to any gathering related to them was met with the distant look of otherness or pity.

Their mom and dad had shrugged it off. Their dad commenting how it was a better assessment then his own and their mom saying her magic might as well have been the equivalent of a luck magician's with how weak it was. It wasn't that Zoe minded, at least, not in the way everyone thought they would.

They minded in that it was another addition to the wall that existed between themself and others. Middle school was harder than elementary in all the ways they expected. All lunches ended hiding in a teacher's classroom or the library, words getting tangled together when they tried to talk. They managed the bottom tier of friends, the kind you exchange a few meaningless words with during one class. At this point, they thought of giving up.

After the confirmation they were a magicless magician, they went home and laid on the grass outside and watched the clouds roll by listening to the sounds of cars rolling past or echoes of neighbors floating towards them. They thought of their little brother, the exact opposite of them in every way. They thought of their unborn sibling, two months out from its due date. They thought of all the ways they wanted someone to mirror them. They couldn't be the only one that was so, so lonely.

//

The Ripley siblings had stretched by one. Zoe, the quiet one who could never find their tongue. Elijah, who was as charming as ever and growing quicker then anyone could blink. And now Lia, the little sister who was more quiet than Zoe could ever be.

Like Zoe and their habit of always changing names, their mom took Lia being non-verbal in stride. She spent an hour each day on ASL lessons and Zoe would sit with her, fifteen and the same as ever in all ways, learning each sign. They would practice together, and then go to show dad when he was back from his part time job, separate from the tea shop they owned. Doctors had said she was young, and it might just be delayed at only two years old. Their mom would rather be safe than sorry, and learning a new language never hurt anybody.

The new studies was something to throw themself into. Another way not to think of anything else. Just them, them, them. Always them. Their world was too big for one. Too big for just their family, as much love as was there. They didn't think there would be anything else for them.

//

"Ughh, I'm too old for my sibling to babysit me, ma." Elijah groaned, ten years old and already speaking with the attitude of a teenager. The look mom threw his way made Zoe throw a hand around his shoulder, more in warning then camaraderie.

"Ignore him, I got him. Besides, Lia's appointment is only an hour."

"You bet I'll ignore him. Keep talking like that and we'll see where that lands you." She reached out, pressed a kiss to Zoe's cheek and then Elijah's despite his protesting and groaning.

The second she was out the door, dad and sister in tow, he shoved their hand off him, "You don't gotta cover for me. I'm not that small anymore."

"...You're ten."

"And you always treat me like a kid! You and mom and even dad when he's not careful." They raised their hands, deciding to concede, but the flicker of irritation showed it didn't help their case. "You never even let me help you."

Zoe's brow furrowed, "I don't need help with anything...? And even if I did, it's not your job to—"

"Because I'm too young to make you happy. I at least know when you're sad. Better then mom does." Elijah stormed away in a whirlwind and Zoe blinked before hurrying after him.

"Wait, Eli!" They skidded out into the hallway, calling after him. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing!"

"Yes there is!"

"And I don't want to talk about it."

"But..."

"I don't!" And he whirled around, and there was a sea of violent, rushing past Zoe like wind during a snowstorm. It shoved them backwards, and they fell. Their eyes went wide as the chill of it wrapped around the whole room, spilling through the house. Magic.

Magic?

Zoe's words were barely a whisper, "You're...a heart magician?"

Since when? They searched through the confines of their memory, and tried to pull up any instance where he'd been acting strange or when something had been off. They came up blank, but as the last of the magic faded away, they understood why. As dramatic a display as it had been, there was nothing destructive about it. Strong, yes, but more desperate to heal and mend then destroy.

They pulled themself up, and found Elijah's eyes wide, "Don't tell mom. I'll tell her. I just...I can't be the only one who can use magic like this. All the other magicians are so...mean. Isn't that part of the reason why you're sad?"

"What? No. No, no, no. Hey listen, being a magician is a gift alright? Come here, it's ok." They weren't sure how to go about this. It wasn't an experience they'd ever gone through, suddenly wrapped up in magic.

His feet remained glued to the floor, eyes bright and shining. The false anger persona falling away until he was just a kid all over again, "No. I could have hurt you. I could have..."

"I'm fine, aren't I?" Zoe held out their arms, tried for a smile they were never good at wearing. "You knocked me over, it's fine. A solid gust of wind could do that with how scrawny I am."

They waited for him, until he eventually took a step. And then one hesitant step became two and then a lunge and then he crashed against them in a tight hug and Zoe wrapped their arms around him and they thought it not fair for him to be so young and trying so hard to figure out their pain while hiding his own.

Zoe hugged him back, arms not as sure as his. Never as sure. Their thoughts were racing. They knew nothing about magicians or magic or creatures of magic. They didn't even know anything about themself. But they knew the path Elijah was going to walk was going to be vastly different than their own. They needed to learn.

//

It was an excuse, maybe, to ignore their constantly endless problems and questions for their own life. High school was fine. It was the same routine as middle school. They had friends they talked to in certain classes and spent lunch hiding in classrooms and libraries. The key difference now was that they had after school pass times.

It still involved libraries and holing themself away in study rooms, but still.

The most frustrating thing was West Myers was not where one would find information on magicians easily unless they ventured onto the campus of Vales Grove University. Zoe didn't want to do that because they were a luck magician. They could already picture some heart or soul magician college students looking at them like a lost child. So they made do.

It was maybe the hundredth visit to the rundown public library that something noticed them. The library was on the edge of the north side of town. From here, the woods crept in, always yellowing grass spilling over the edges and thin trees watching anyone who would look back. Zoe had never paid it much heed, until their sixteenth year when the woods got tired of waiting and watching.

"BOO!" Zoe jumped near ten feet in the air, feet stumbling over each other, bag slipping half off their shoulder. By some miracle they managed to stop it from dropping to the ground and spilling out its contents. Their heart was going a thousand miles an hour in their ears. A strange, round, green creature was floating in the space near them giggling to itself. "Ooh, I did it! I did it! I scared a magician."

Their expression collapsed into their default blank calm. No words passed their lips.

The creature kept going, "Hey hey, don't be mad! It was all in good fun. Here, here, an apology."

Tiny arms with little nibs on the end reached out and there was a dandelion in its hands. Zoe stared, "Does this cost anything?"

"No no, it's an apology. It's what I owe you. A wish." They reached out a hand and instead of placing the flower in their palm, the creature settled into it instead. It felt soft, like an old cotton shirt that's been through the wash many times. "I always see you. Looking. Longing. What's your name?"

Zoe searched their memory for the name of this creature. There were hardly any magical creatures in the region; the local magician council had a firm distaste for them that kept most at bay. It wasn't information they needed often but this was a common enough one. A regular earth sprite. Maybe once a forest sprite, specifically, but the endless drought had shifted things in the region. What once should have been vibrant green was now a muted brown.

The things were harmless enough. Maybe. So they offered their name.

Immediately, the creature shook its head, "That doesn't fit right, does it?"

Zoe blinked, "Well...I mean..."

"Don't mind, don't mind. Humans that feel like you...are always in flux. Like the seasons. I'll call you that if you wish! My name is Jolly right now!"

At this point, they finally had the realization to look around. Humans couldn't see anything related to magic. Zoe must look wild, talking and stammering into their hand like this. The talk right names and wrong names was throwing them for a loop. What was their name? They'd stopped jumping through names like t-shirts in middle school. How did this creature even know that? And the most pressing question of all.

"What do you even want?" The creature nestled further into their hand at the question.

"Hmm, company? In exchange, you want answers to things, yes? I'll help you navigate magic. In return, allow me company!" Zoe pressed their lips together, but before they could deny the request, it suddenly hopped out of their hand. "Come, come. I know where they hide information. Follow me."

And despite all reservations, they did.

//

West Myers was stranger than Zoe had originally thought. Jolly had proven to be a great guide, and also their first real friend. Zoe sat at the counter of their parents tea shop, binder and notes spread out around them. The air conditioning strained against the summer heat, and Jolly dozed softly in a spare teacup.

The first thing Zoe had learned was that the borders of West Myers did not end at the town. It extended into the woods, and stopped miles in. The second thing Zoe had noticed was that the reason why they had been struggling to find anything was because those records had been removed.

Jolly had said magicians didn't want the general public to know of any events related to them, and so most information would be removed. Thankfully for Zoe, the woods remembered everything as well as the dead did. It had said that Vales Grove had stood for a relatively short time, which in sprite terms meant at least a hundred years, and it's founders had been odd. Liars. Cheats.

It hadn't provided more information on them, and Zoe had gotten the sense it'd been nervous. They didn't press it and it didn't matter, they knew what they were looking for now, and they knew how to look.

Bent over pages, they jerked as a door suddenly slammed open.

Snapping to attention, their brother raised an eyebrow, "Ma would have your head if she caught you not paying attention."

"Sorry, just..."

"Not to mention if she saw Jolly here." Eli's voice pitched high into singsong, "Wake up, wake up. I brought snacks."

Like clockwork, Jolly snapped it's eyes open, hopping up into the air, "Sugar snacks?"

Eli held out a box and poured a couple of sour candies into his hand, offering it up to it. Jolly practically cheered, diving right for it and gathering them all on its arms. He laughed, flinching away slightly at the sensation of it in his hands.

Zoe sighed, fighting a smile, "You're spoiling it too much."

"And you don't?" Eli threw back, coming to lean against the counter. His eyes skipped over the set up, unseeing for a minute as it was how Zoe normally looked at work. Eli sometimes swung by when he was walking home from a friends' house. Zoe couldn't tell if it was because he wanted to bother them or he actually wanted to visit them. Maybe it was both.

His hands snatched something from the table before Zoe could blink, "Is this a brochure to Vales Grove?"

Zoe paused, "Oh, yeah. That's likely where you'll be attending college so I just...checked it out."

They'd hated the visit, hated the atmosphere, hated the way they were spoken to the entire time. Still, they'd gone on the tour and taken all the information packets and had went online to fill out the application anyway.

Eli frowned, "You're hiding something from me again."

"What, no. I mean, you're going to have your magician assessment next year and I just...wanted to know how things worked with all that."

"I know you're lying."

They flinched, and it was Jolly who answered, falling back into its teacup, "They're going to attend! They're curiosity got to them!"

Zoe went still and so did Eli. He paused, eyes narrowing as he looked at Zoe. He was twelve now, still so young but as perceptive as ever. His voice was as soft as it was simmering, "Curiosity killed the cat. Are you forcing yourself to go because of me?"

"No, actually." Zoe's voice rushed out the next sentence before Eli could cut them off. "It was, at first. At least, I just wanted to know what to expect to help you if you needed it. But, you know, something's...really weird about this town and that school. Now I'm doing this because I want answers."

"Answers to what...? What's so weird about this place? It's just normal suburban weird, you know?" Eli handed Jolly another candy without thinking as it reached for more. "What you should be doing is finding some place where you can finally make a friend, and that isn't Vales Grove."

"Jolly is friend!"

"A human friend. No offense Jolly."

"It's fine, it's fine."

Zoe frowned, shook their head, and then thought better of it, "Listen I know that I'm...not the most social, but hear me out first. Look." They spun their binder, brimming with various papers and printouts and envelopes. Eli raised an eyebrow, but let Zoe go on. "What's weird is that there's barely anything magical in our entire region."

"But that's because—"

"Wait. Just. Hear me out. Magic is attracted to magic, right? And if magic is attracted to magic, then places where there's a lot of magicians should attract all sorts of things, but it doesn't. The only reason Jolly is here is by accident, but in other places, it's different. Take, I don't know, Foxglove for example. That whole town is the country's epicenter for magic and it's brimming with every magical thing you could imagine."

Eli frowned, popping more candy into his mouth with a shrug, "It's also the source of so much trouble all the important magicians in the region warn us about it."

"Sure, two worlds constantly colliding will do that but...humans are allowed to know about magic. Magicians aren't forced to hide what they are. The Council of Foxglove doesn't force people to forget things or erase memories of peoples' friends." Zoe pulled at the purple tab and opened up to a series of hastily written notes. "And it isn't just Foxglove. Look at this. Everywhere I was able to sneak information on is the same. And all of these records are so well hidden and for what?"

"Well..."

"This is all weird, Eli. Not just West Myers or Vales Grove University, but this whole region." They pushed the binder towards him.

Their brother pursed his lips, handed the rest of the candy to a very excited Jolly, and wrapped his hands around himself, "Alright. So things are weird. What are you going to do about? This only makes me think you should get out of here as soon as possible even more now."

They shook their head, "I...it...it doesn't feel right."

There were so many other things they wanted to say. It wasn't just the absence of magic but the presence of death. So much death. They wondered how no one was drowning in it. And if there was anything known to combat death, it were heart magicians. It was the thing Eli was. It was the thing Zoe was sure their new little sister was showing signs of being.

"It doesn't feel right because you've only ever known this town, sib. You keep closing off your world before you even let yourself try for something else." Eli shoved himself back from the counter. "Look, all that is super weird, though. Like, you better not fall into a conspiracy weird. But if this is what you want to do, go for it."

Zoe's shoulders relaxed, "...Don't tell mom?"

"So she can kill you? Nah, you can have the college conversation with her yourself. Good luck. Also, speaking of, the only reason I stopped by is because we needed some garlic from the store. Mom'll pay you back."

"Got it."

Eli raised his hand, walked a few steps back and paused. Zoe thought he was going to say something, but he only gave a goofy grin as goodbye and ducked out the door. The quiet that followed was only broken by Jolly's munching. Zoe leaned back in their chair, and wondered if Eli was right.

//

When did they settle on the name Zoe, anyway? When did they lung for it with all their might? It was when their childhood was already over. It was right before the summer they started college. Somewhere in the whirlwind of applications and parental arguments and throwing themself into a new thing and a new thing and a new thing, it came to them.

"It's Zoe." They said, suddenly, a week before they were slated to start college. Their mom and dad stopped whatever they'd been saying. "My name, I think."

"Zoe." Their mom said, with a smile. "I like it."

"Better than when you were insisting we all call you Guardian Heart when you were five." Their dad laughed, and their next words felt heavier. Their dad's joke didn't even get through to them.

The thing about their nature was that they'd run from one thing they were afraid of to another thing. They were afraid of magic and the Council and the university, and suddenly the fear of themselves was washed away, "I don't...think I'm anything. A boy or a girl or...anything."

They were clumsy, trying to find how to articulate it in the moment. It'd been easier to tell Eli, who had barely blinked at the news. It was impossible now, even though they knew their parents wouldn't reactive negatively. They'd always gone with them and let Zoe do whatever they wanted. They knew that so why?

Why was their chest caving in and why was their vision blurry?

Hands wrapped around them, and they buried themself into their mother's shoulder. Why were they crying? Because inside their stomach something twisted and wished that maybe it wasn't true. Oh, it would be so much easier if it wasn't true. Their mom held them tight and they imagined years of scornful eyes and disappointed frowns and they wanted to have something in them that wouldn't elicit such reactions. In another body with a different soul, they wouldn't have spent a whole childhood alone.

And so they wept for pieces of childhood forever lost to them.

//

"You can't come with me to college, Jolly!" Zoe huffed, trying to find just where the second shoe of their favorite pair went.

Jolly hopped around them, "But you changed! You changed! Your aura is so beautiful. Like grapes!"

They snagged it out from under their bed and threw it on, "I don't even want to know what it means to have an aura like grapes. Listen, I don't want anything to happen to you. And besides, this is something I choose myself. I have to face it myself."

Jolly collapsed on their bed, a pout on its face, "It'll be fine! Nothing strange there. Not for you."

"Better safe than sorry. Bye Jolly, I'll tell you how to goes later." And they were out the door and catching the bus.

And Jolly would be right. That first day was as anxiety inducing as everyone else's first day of college. And then the first year went by and the next and, save for a few missteps, everything was calm. Everything was peaceful. The years stretched on and they found a way to grow into it all.

They knew everything about Vales Grove, and they knew nothing.

They knew everything about themselves, and they knew nothing.

Everything was the same, until their last year of college, when nothing would be the same again.

[eleni-cherie]

a thief's origin✨ || bts • kth - chapter 0.9

"you're afraid I won't wait." "I'm afraid you will."

a criminal and a doctor should be as different as the sun and the moon - but unexpected things happened every day. like him finding his safe haven in her.

© 2024 | eleni_cherie

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masterlist: here

— genre: thief au, gangster comedy, adventure, romcom, humour, angst, fluff, sexual tensiON, slowburn, mutual pining, strangers to friends to lovers s2f2l

ALTERNATIVE UNIVERSE. CHARACTERS NOT NECESSARILY LIKE THE REAL PERSONS. ALSO VERY UNREALISTIC PLOT LOL - JUST PRETEND READING A MANGA/COMIC OR WATCHING A FILM, REALLY.

SUGGESTIVE THEMES. MENTIONS OF VIOLENCE & BLOOD (BUT NOTHING TOO GRAPHIC, IT'S STILL A COMEDY!)

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age 27 // 3rd year - assistant physician

17th July

Barcelona, Spain

The buzzing of the phone in the middle of the night startled Cassandra. Not that she was sleeping. It was way too warm, despite the open window, but an ominous feeling took over her nevertheless as a late-night call rarely meant something good.

Sitting up straight in the dark bedroom, she rubbed her eyes and reached for it. Her heart picking up in pace only more when reading 'cool guy' on the display, though, worry getting replaced by excitement instead.

She swiped to answer, hushed but eager. "Tae?"

There was a beat of silence, then she heard his breath. "Hey, angel."

With just one simple, soft word she felt all the tension she'd been holding inside her body the past days dispel. She'd missed his smooth voice and closed her eyes, letting it soak through her.

Sometimes he'd still use the old nickname and call her 'Doc', but his new one surely was her favourite.

"Thought you might be out."

He heard something of a laugh leave his girlfriend. It was quiet, but it was still there. He was joking, of course and she knew that. It was easy with him after all, always had been. Even if they hadn't seen each other in a month.

"What, at 2 in the morning? No way."

Taehyung chuckled along and her eyes fluttered open at the sound of his deep chuckles, the room suddenly feeling lighter. She'd missed the sound of his laugh.

"Then, sorry for calling so late."

"It's fine, I couldn't sleep anyway," she told him honestly, feeling almost coy and suddenly very aware of her breathing. Her chest falling and raising steadily.

"Me neither."

Silence followed, and she felt a small twinge of panic. Did anything happen? Did he realise he had nothing to say? Please don't hang up, she thought desperately, holding as still as she could underneath the thin sheets.

"I bet I have you beat," he finally said, sounding somewhat amused. And she relaxed. "We were back by eleven. Yoongi was in a terrible mood."

"Oh, how so?" she smiled quietly, adding, "Sorry I'm whispering. I recently discovered I can sometimes hear the neighbours' talking from my bed so I assume they can hear mine as well."

"It's okay. I like it," he whispered back with a smirk, only to still when another question crossed his mind. "Wait, does that mean they heard us when.."

Her lips folded, stifling a giggle as she'd wondered the same thing when discovering that fact. "They might have."

"Oh." His embarrassed chuckle made her smile widen. Taehyung hummed on the other line then, musing for a moment. "Guess we have to be careful next time."

"Mhm. But anyway, why was Yoongi in a terrible mood?"

"He was trying to play it cool, you know?" Taehyung said then, groaning slightly. "Almost blew his cover."

Cassandra snorted softly. Yoongi wasn't exactly discreet when it came to hating their disguises, according to Taehyung. Him and Jimin arguing about it sometimes. It was quite funny to her, two grown men bickering like school kids.  

However, she held herself back from asking what disguise it was and why, knowing it'd be pointless to do so. 

"Hope he and Jimin didn't argue."

"They did, but already made up. They can never stay mad at each other for too long," Taehyung reassured.

She hummed. Realising him reaching out so soon again after their last call had to be a good sign as well.

"Mhm, I assume the job was successful despite that then?"

He huffed in mock-offence only for a boisterous smirk to settle on his lips. "Of course!"

Cassandra smiled to herself, pressing one side of her face further into the pillow.

It always felt nice to talk to him like this. It felt normal, as if they were never apart. As if he lived just across the city. After years of knowing him it was normal to her anyway. The only thing that had changed was the fact it was even more annoying now that they were in an actual relationship. When they were only friends it'd been a pity not hanging out as much, surely, but now it was simply insufferable.

"So.. it's safe to say you didn't really have fun tonight," she concluded then as a joke. Earning an agreeing hum from him.

"No," he simply stated then, "I was forced out and promised a good time, but instead I was surrounded by bickering and debauchery."

A dry laugh left her lips – loudly, unable to help it really. Forgetting about her neighbours possibly hearing her in the middle of the quiet night.

"I guess the latter is referring to Jimin."

"Of course. He made flirting with two hostesses at the same time look easy." Both burst out laughing before Taehyung's tone softened again."Should have been with you instead.."

She had to ignore that, she just had to, otherwise she'd end up doing something foolish like asking him to drop everything and fly over to her. She'd never do that, her pride never allowing that anyway. But she couldn't trust herself a lot after 1am so who knew, she might become weak if she cave into it.

"Pity," she replied instead with a much calmer voice, more appropriate to the late hour, "Did you force him to stop?"

"Had to, otherwise we couldn't have proceeded with the plan," Taehyung huffed out a laugh, "He probably would've had the time of his life right now if it wasn't for me."

A lie, they both knew. Taehyung had told Cassandra everything about his friend being head over heels in love with some other thief who crossed their paths sometimes. Cassandra always found the stories involving Arabella exciting and entertaining, much to her boyfriend's despise really. Of course, she understood his reasons hence why she'd try keeping her amusement over them at bay.

"He didn't think to share with you?" she teased as she stared up to the pitch-black ceiling.

"Me?" he asked, surprised, and for a second she worried she'd gone too far when he continued, "No, he knows I'm not interested in anyone but you."

There was the beat of a silence before both attempted to say the other's name.

"Tae -"

"Cas -" He rushed forward as she held back. "I've missed you." He breathed. "Saying that out loud just makes me miss you more."

Cassandra's heart felt like expanding, drumming against her ribcage. He kept his promise of being vocal about his feelings from now on and it meant everything to her.

She heard him laugh at himself then. Feeling silly. "Do I sound pathetic?"

"No," she insisted, eager for him to know. "No, Tae. I miss you, too." She wanted to tell him everything that had been on her mind, but over the phone like this felt insufficient.

"I called you because I wanted to hear your voice. I thought of you tonight and just wanted to -" He cut himself off with a sigh. "I wanted to pretend everything was normal."

"Everything is normal, what do you mean?"

"I mean actual normal. Like.. like we're a normal couple and I can just see and call you whenever I like."

Without realising, tears had welled up in the corners of her eyes when allowing his words to sink in.

Yeah, that would be nice but it is what it is, she thought. After all, she knew what she got herself into when allowing him into her life. And it wasn't like her own job would've allowed anything 'normal' anyway, with its irregular schedules or being on standby.

One single hot tear slipped away from her eyes then, getting absorbed into her pillow. She blamed the late hour for his voice and words making her so easily over-emotional.

And without realising it, a quiet sob croaked its way past her throat.

"Cas?" His voice laced with concern. "Are you crying?"

She sniffed and wiped her face. "Sorry. It's the late hour."

"No, don't be. I'm the sorry one. I wasn't trying to make you cry."

She took a moment to compose herself, annoyed at herself. Taehyung waited patiently, and when he heard her laugh weakly down the line, he added another, although seemingly unrelated, sorry.

"What for?" He had nothing to be sorry for.

However, Taehyung let out a low whistle. "A lot." A deep exhale followed. "It's hard."

"You mean us?"

"No," he was quick to response. Needing to dissolve any insecurities before they even arose in her mind, "It sucks that we can't see each other as much.. but no, Cas, being with you isn't hard."

Her cheeks were burning by now and it wasn't due to the 23°C and the stuffy air in her bedroom. She couldn't help but grin like an idiot, feeling all jittery for a moment before recalling his sullen tone before.

"What is it then? Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not really.. I mean, I do. Just not right now." She hummed, relating to that statement. Hearing his mattress move on the other line.

"Is that okay?" he asked thoughtfully.

"Of course."

"Right now I just want to feel close to you," he admitted bashfully, "And hear your voice."

"I want that, too," she said and the corners of her lips tugged into a gentle smile, pretending the warmth of her bed was him. They didn't even need to talk, hearing his breathing was enough. Just like when he was lying next to her.

"I've really missed you, like, a lot." He chuckled awkwardly. "Sorry. It's late, I'm all over the place."

"No, it's cute! Don't worry," her tired smile grew at the thought of his flustered expression, "We'll see each other soon. We'll be okay."

"We will."

His confirmation meant the world to her. For the first time in a while, she felt excited. She opened her mouth, her heart ready to combast, when she stopped herself instead. Something told her he already knew what she so desperately wanted to tell him; why else would he be on the phone with her right after a coup?

Instead, she fell into a comforting silence again with her eyes starting to grow heavy. Sleep began washing over her, until a noise and Taehyung's cursing made her jolt awake. And he laughed faintly.

"Crap. I just hit my head."

The bed moved again, and she imagined that she was there with him.

"Were you falling asleep?"

"Yeah, I think I was."

"Should we hang up?" She felt bad for keeping him up, not even knowing in what timezone he was, but she also didn't want the call to be over yet.

"Let's talk tomorrow."

His assuring tone caught her off guard as she knew how risky it was for them to talk too often or too long.

"You sure?" she grinned lazily.

"Yeah. We need to talk more. I can't take this any longer."

She was suddenly wide awake now. "Okay. I'm free tomorrow. Call whenever you want."

"I'll make sure it's early in the morning then."

She could hear the teasing grin on his face. Picture it, too. "Meanie. As if you'd be up early."

"Just joking."

She giggled faintly, feeling both, excited and relaxed. "I can't wait."

"Me neither."

She could almost feel his breath, wanting him close. Tomorrow, she reminded herself.

"I should go now. You need to sleep."

"So do you," she added with a light scoff.

"So, I'll talk to you tomorrow?"

She knew he was smiling, she could hear it all the miles apart.

"Yeah," she smiled back. "You will."

The phone call ended and she was about to put it away when a text appeared on her display.

cool guy (2.46am): btw goodnight :)

angel (2.46am): goodnight ♡

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3rd October

Cassandra wasn't sure what time it was, nor was she sure if her mind hadn't imagined things in her sleep. Still in a half-daze, she tossed her blankets away, hearing the persistent ringing again which had torn her away from a deep slumber.

The doorbell, she concluded so far. Brown eyes frowning when she took off her sleeping mask and trotted to the door in the dark.

Had she forgotten about an upcoming delivery?

It didn't even cross her mind that it wasn't daytime yet despite the darkness of her apartment. That was how she preferred to sleep after all, blinds all the way down. Besides, the days became shorter and it was raining endlessly, so naturally it was rather dark outside even in the morning.

Only when she unlocked the door and swung it open, she realised how off her assumptions were when in front of her was standing none other than Taehyung. 

Clothes entirely drenched, soaking wet from the pouring rain with pools forming around his feet.

Any sleep that had remained in her system was abruptly blown away, replaced by pure excitement followed by confusion and irritation at his slumped posture. Her lips eventually parted, causing him to flinch.

He was ready to hear her expelling him for showing up there in the middle of the night, when instead she grabbed him by his arm, pulling him firmly inside and closing the door behind him.

"Tae, what happened?"

Her words faded when she noticed his sulked expression underneath the hood. Almost hidden away by long streaks of dark hair sticking onto his forehead. 

It wasn't so much the question itself that completely unarmed him. He had expected it considering the randomness and time of this encounter and his abject state.

No, it was rather the concern in her eyes and the whisper of her voice that made him completely lose any remaining energy to deny it and instead made him tear up. And he almost knocked her off when wrapping his arms around her.

She smelled of almonds and flowers. Just like he remembered.

Startled, the young woman tensed for a moment when her hands instinctively engulfed her boyfriend's torso in a tight hug. Putting her all into squeezing him as much as she could. It was her way of showing him that she was there, whatever it was that he was struggling with. Not even caring the slightest how his soaked clothes were wetting her pyjamas.

She understood not to ask further. He'd tell her eventually, she knew. He always did.

Stepping back, she clasped his arms to take a better look on him. He swallowed, avoiding her worried glance. By now he somewhat regretted coming there in an impulsive moment, acting out the only clear thought in his chaotic mind.

He'd felt so miserably and pathetic, he couldn't even bare himself, let alone fleeing to Panama with Jimin and Yoongi - the next place where an object of interest was located at - after what had happened. Even if they had tried persuading him and ensuring him it hadn't been as bad as he had made it out to be. He was so upset with his own self, however, that he couldn't simply stand being alone either.  

And out of pure selfishness and immaturity he'd spent six hours driving from Marseille to Barcelona, to the only person he wanted to see.

Perhaps it was because Cassandra wasn't one of them but an outsider. Perhaps it was her sweet and campassionate nature. Or how she tried to see all sides and wasn't set on black & white views - and he needed someone like this in that moment. Someone else who'd essentially verify what his friends had been trying to convince him of.

But when he had rung the doorbell, two sudden realisations had hit him.

It was 3am. And she was a physician.

Now it was too late though. She was already standing in front of him with big questioning bambi eyes. The fact she hadn't flipped him off or cussed at him already would've been a miracle, if she was such a person. She wasn't, however, he knew that. And yet, he felt terrible.

Was he using her to make his pity self feel better? To calm his guilty conscious?

When she felt his arms growing tired and loosening around her, she placed a hand on his cold cheek. Carefully inspecting his face with a serious glare.

"Are you hurt?"

He only responded with a small shake of his head to assure he wasn't. It was enough for her. Her hands dropped and she helped him slip off his jacket while he stepped out of his shoes.

She grabbed his hand then and he silently waddled behim her to the bedroom.  

Only when she switched on the small cloud-shaped lamp on the nightstand did she see what time it was.

She had barely slept three hours and had planned to wake up in another six - enough time to properly rest and get prepared for her shift at 2pm - but now it seemed like she had to abandon that plan.

It was alright though, first she had to take care of her favourite patient after all.

"Wait here," she quietly instructed him and Taehyung willingly did as he was told. That was the least he could do in that moment anyway, and he watched her disappear into the hallway. Eyes wandering around her room. It was the same as he remembered it, only with a few more of his postcards on the wall. And he smiled, realising she had kept them all. Along with photos of him between her friends and family.

His heart clenched. The tiny voice in the depths of his conscience telling him yet again he didn't deserve Cassandra. And it only got louder after tonight.

He heard steps then, seeing her reappearing with two mugs and a towel. She rested the mugs onto the nightstand first, the hot steam prominent while rising from the tea she'd made them. He smiled.

She pointed at him then with a scowl. "You should take off your wet clothes."

He couldn't help but chuckle quietly at the suddenly demanding tone. "Is that a doctor's order?"

It was the first time he spoke tonight. Evident in his hoarse voice. And yet, Cassandra only huffed out a laugh at the fact it was a teasing remark out of all things. Of course.

"Not this time. This time it's your girlfriend's order."

His thick eyebrow arched at this. Liking the sound of the word whenever she was referred to as his girlfriend. "Is that so?"

"Yep. I don't want you to wet my bedsheets," she grinned, "If you wet my bedsheets I'll kick you out."

"You didn't mind your clothes though," he retorted, to which she shrugged unimpressed.

"I can always change those. But I don't feel like changing bedsheets in the middle of the night. And besides, it feels disgusting being in wet clothes. Doesn't it?"

He hummed, unable to counter something to her logic like so often. She was definitely not wrong about the disgusting feeling, although it wasn't only physically.

Quietly, he began pulling his hoodie over his head, remaining with a plain shirt and she stepped closer, placing the towel over his head. She held the edges together, framing his face with it. The adorable sight making her lips curl into a smile. She almost cooed but knew to suppress it, so instead her fingers began rubbing his hair dry. Her arms were completely stretched out to properly reach him, although he was already stooping to assist her.

Soon his brown irises disappeared behind his eyelids, the stern expression on his features softening. He hummed at the soothing sensation, lulling him more and more until he couldn't feel the motion anymore.

When she deemed it dry enough, she let the towel slide from his head. Revealing his tousled waves.

"How do you still look so cute even with messy hair?" she jokingly pouted. Earning a lazy smile from him. It was so easy for her to make him smile and he tucked at one of the curls falling from her loose bun then.

"You look cuter."

She puffed her blushing cheeks, dismissing his words as always. And he still found it both, endearing and annoying, how she didn't know how to properly react to his compliments.

"Drink the tea, it should've steeped by now," she mumbled then. Quickly making her way under the covers and choosing one of the mugs to try the tea herself. By the look of her face, however, he could tell that it was still too hot and he stifled a laugh at her grimace when putting it back down. "Okay, maybe wait for a little long."

He only hummed and attempted taking off the equally damp trousers when he unintentionally shuddered at the cold metal of his magnum brushing against his skin. Shoving the gun underneath his clothes as if he tried hiding it and Cassandra noticed, but chose not to comment on it. Already holding the sheets up beside her for him. 

"What about your pj's?" he asked worried.

"It's fine they didn't get wet. Just a tiny bit dampish. It'll dry off quickly."

"Oh, so I'm the only one doing a striptease here, huh?" he smirked before sliding under the warm bedsheets. Only earning an innocent pout from Cassandra as she rested her head on his shoulder. Her arm finding its way around his waist when his draped around hers.

"Aw, poor baby," her tone teasing as she lightly poked his flushed cheek, "But you were the one running around in the rain, not me."

Sitting now next to each other in her cramped bed, they grew quiet. Partially due to their tiredness, partially due to the elephant in the room.

Taehyung didn't mind her twin-sized bed, it made it easier for him to cling onto her like a koala, even if she always complained not being able to sleep that way. Secretely she liked it, it gave her some kind of security. Unless it was the middle of summer, then she indeed hated it.

Cassandra propped her chin onto his shoulder then, glancing at him expectedly. She noticed him licking his dry lips, eyes focusing on something invisible as he held her close. His fingers curling around her hip more as he was seemingly lost in thoughts, staring into space absentmindedly.

It didn't seem like he was ready to talk yet.

With a sigh, she lifted her head and turned to grab her tea and retry. This time the sip was in a much more drinkable temperature and she took another sip. Taking the other mug and handing it over to him.

"Be careful not to spill," she quietly said and he gladly accepted it. Despite feeling warm on the outside by now, there was still an internal coldness that made him shiver.

The tea managed warming him up, but the heaviness in his chest remained. And Taehyung sunk further into the sheets after drinking the last bit of it.

His throbbing head burying itself into the crook of her neck ans she stilled for a moment when he inhaled deeply. His warm breath tingling her skin. He sensed Cassandra's lips on his temple then when a delicate hand of hers reached to his still damp hair. Her fingers beginning combing the soft dark waves.

He smelled of falling rain.

It was a soothing sensation that clouded his mind and his eyes fluttered closed. Getting lost in the anew relaxing movement of her hand. It was steady, despite sleepiness slowly taking over her as well. And his body began feeling numb, falling asleep before his mind could. Taehyung was sinking more and more into his seat. His head slipping from Cassandra's neck and sliding to her chest and to her stomach. Settling there just between.

Cassandra was his save heaven.

With her he was in a bubble. She shielded him from his chaotic and dangerous life, providing him with something he had never believed he'd receive or even deserved. Something that also terrified him though.

She was his weak spot after all, his Achilles' heel. And his profession a threat to her normal life.

It was silent in the small bedroom except for the clock on the nightstand and the pit-a-pat of the falling rain against the window glass. Occasionally, a lonely car would pass by and the sound of splashing water was heard. Their breaths and her heartbeat underneath his ear soothing him even more.

"What if I injured someone innocent?"

The sudden whisper of his voice made her perk up and she began to understand.

"Is that what happened?" she quietly asked. Her fingers not stopping from gliding through his hair. "Did you injure an innocent passerby?"

He swallowed down the lump in his throat, turning his face towards the soft fabric of her pyjamas for a moment.

"Yes."

Cassandra hummed only, peeking down at him. She knew he'd open up on his own and she knew there had been a reason, but only now she grasped why he had been in such an awful state.

She had always been curious about his 'job'. Always wanting to hear heist stories and how they pulled them off. It was an odd fascination, the whole technical part. Whether it was illegal or not what they did, it was still a form of art to her - if done correctly.

However, as he always refused to give too much into her interest and instead kept stories as superficial as possible, for him now to tell her about a job on his own felt like an apology. A depreciation.

And perhaps it was just that. Perhaps that was the reason he had driven all the way there, because she was the only person who could grant him some kind of absolution.

Her knuckles brushed over the side of his agitated face then.

"How did it happen?"

Taking a deep breath, he collected his thoughts before continuing. He didn't want to speak it out, but he had to. He couldn't bare it anymore. "It happened so fast, but.. I should've foreseen it. It was my fault."

Cassandra remained silent. He wasn't sure if it was a good sign but she hadn't pulled away her hands yet.

"Why's it your fault?"

"It just is."

"Why do you th-"

"Because I'm the best shooter in the damn world!" His voice rose with frustration when recalling the incident and he abruptly heaved his head from her warmth. Cassandra tensing at this, startled. "I can aim and hit a target in my sleep, I should've - I should've -" He began stuttering, screwing his eyes shut. A deep crease forming between his prominent brows. Cassandra's face mirroring his pained expression, the corners of her lips pulling downwards. "I should've noticed that goon creeping up behind me and pushing me. I-I shouldn't have missed my target -" He choked up at this point, cutting himself off.

Her hand glided from his hair to his cheek, cupping it as she stared into his afflicted eyes and he swallowed.

"Cassandra, I.. I swear it was an accident - it was the first time - I'd never - Please, believe me."

He needed this. Needed to hear it from her. Needed to hear that she believed him, that she knew he wasn't a common criminal shooting at innocent people without a care. Needed her to confirm he wasn't a monster. Needed her to ensure him she wouldn't despise him, despite her own profession of saving lives. Needed her to forgive him.

Cassandra gave him a look of commiseration and trapped his flushed cheeks between her palms.

His guilty conscious had been visible from the moment she'd opened the door. She knew he felt terrible, she could feel how sincere he was. How much he regretted it. And she knew she was in no way entitled to judge people in situations she'd never gone through herself and went beyond her experience. Hence why it was flattering that Taehyung not only felt the need to tell her but was also concerned for her opinion on the matter. After all those years of knowing each other, she was truly his confidant. And the realisation warmed her heart.

"I've told you time over time you're not a bad guy. This was an accident, you didn't want it to happen," she softly spoke. Her thumb caressing his cheek in an attempt to calm him down. And it seemed to work, his guilt-ridden expression mitigating. His jaw unclenching.

"You truly believe that?" he asked quietly.

She nodded confidently. "I know it."

"It won't happen again," he confirmed. He planned to learn from his mistakes. Perhaps he should try mediating like Yoongi who sensed any threat from miles away.

"I know," she smiled. Her gaze falling then. "What happened to the person you accidentally shot though?"

He frowned. "We fled instantly, so I'm not sure. But I heard sirens of an ambulance in the distance, so I hope.." His index finger went to his hip. "I got him here, it's not a vital part, right?"

Cassandra knew that a hip injury by a gunshot was likely to cause complex peritrochanteric fracture. But orthopaedic procedures had an overall union rate for primary fixation of over sixty percent - which was pretty good. There was, of course as it was the case with all medical procedures, always a remaining chance for complications, however, she chose not to disclose the last part. Not wanting to make him feel worse. Instead she kept it positively vague, just like with patients and their families.

"He should be fine," she nodded, her smile widening, "It's not a life-threatening injury."

With the heavy burden being lifted from his chest, he slowly sank back down to her chest. Closing his eyes as soon as he heard her heartbeat and felt her fingers returning to his chocolate waves.

Cassandra had managed to calm him down like no one else ever could.

He wasn't used to this. To feeling so at ease. There in her warm embrace, with her fingers running through his hair, her chest rising and falling underneath him, her scent in his nose and her steady pulse in his ear, he slowly drifted off to sleep.

Realising the reason she was the only person he wanted to see that night, the only person he wanted to ever talk about his heavy heart with and the only person whose words mattered the most to him, was as simpel as the answer to why he always kept coming back to her, despite the risk of getting caught by interpol.

Because he loved her.

»»»

next chapter: 1.0 here

Don't forget to like, comment & leave feedback!♡ It motivates me to keep writing :)

- btw any detco fans here who caught the shinran reference? 👀 hehe

taglist: @lilanyxta @naoolammao345 @memna234 @tetehion @myblacklilame

[average-dilf-enjoyer]

KINKTOBER

Day 2: Anal play + Shane (Stardew Valley)

Pairing: Shane/f!reader

Rating: Explicit

Word count: 1.2K

Warnings: Anal fingering, rimming (f receiving)

A/N: I HAD A SUPER BUSY DAY I HAD TO SERIOUSLY RUSH THIS I HOPE IT CAME OUT BUT IDK SINCE I ONLY GOT TO PROOFREAD IT LIKE ONCE. Anyways I feel really smart for remembering to say Yoba instead of God considering I haven't played SV in like a year lol

——————————————————————————

You'd had a fucking terrible day. You got no sleep because your newborn daughter, Samantha, needed constant attention. Then you had to go out to water the crops and feed the animals, which took hours even with Shane's help because you had to take breaks to care for Samantha. You finally got a chance to relax around three o'clock, but that ended quickly because Samantha had to be fed. Then you made dinner, fed the baby again, and finally, around eleven, you got the first moment of peace you'd had in the last twenty-four hours. And you took that opportunity to spend some quality time with your husband.

"Honey..." you moaned as Shane's lips latched onto your neck.

You felt him smile against your skin. "Shh... don't wanna wake Sammy," he whispered, pressing another kiss into your neck.

You nodded and made a motion of zipping your lips shut.

Shane chuckled and resumed his assault on your neck as his fingers began working at the buttons on your shirt.

Your hands found the hem of his t-shirt and you swiftly pulled it up and over his head, discarding it on the floor. He did the same to you, sliding your shirt off your shoulders and tossing it off to the side with his.

Shane’s hands then moved to your bra, fingers undoing the clasp while his eyes drank in your body. “Shit, you’re so beautiful…” he whispered, slipping your bra off to reveal your breasts. His hands moved to cup them, kneading his fingers into the soft flesh.

You moaned and arched into his touch. “Shane…”

“I gotcha baby, what do you need?” he cooed, moving his head down to suck at your nipples.

“Fuck- your fingers, need your fingers,” you panted, fingernails digging into his back.

Shane nodded and one hand left your chest to slide up your thigh and under your skirt, running a finger along your cloth-covered slit. “Yoba, you’re so wet. All for me?”

You nodded eagerly. “All for you, Shane.”

“Yeah, that’s right,” he agreed, moving your panties aside and sliding his middle finger into you. “That good, honey?”

“Yeah,” you gasped as he curled his finger to rub your G-spot. “Sh-shit…”

“Gotta be quiet, remember?” he reminded you, muffling your moans with his lips on yours as he slipped another finger into you. “Won’t get to make you cum if Sammy wakes up.”

You nodded as he broke the kiss. “Mhm. Sorry.” You reached around to grasp the back of his neck, tugging his mouth back to yours.

His fingers began to move faster, bringing you closer and closer to your release. “Shane- fuck-“ You made sure to whisper it this time, not wanting to risk waking Samantha.

“I know, I know,” Shane groaned, his thumb moving to circle your clit.

A few moments of this and you were coming undone, clenching around his fingers as waves of pleasure overcame you. “F-fuck…” you whimpered as he fucked you through it.

“That’s it… yeah, there you go…” Shane crooned as you came down from your high. “So pretty.”

“Shane, I need you fuck me,” you whined, reaching a hand down to palm at the bulge in his pants.

“Insatiable,” Shane groaned.

“Only for you,” you quipped as you pulled at his sweatpants, sliding them and his boxer briefs down his thighs. Without another moment of hesitation, you pushed him back on the bed, climbing over him. “Lemme ride you.”

Shane grinned and rested his hands on your hips. “Go ahead, baby.”

You pulled your panties off but decided to leave the skirt.

Shane groaned. “Are you trying to kill me, sweetheart?” His hands moved up under your skirt again to knead at your ass. “You’re fucking gorgeous, you know that?”

You hummed and lined yourself up with his dick. “Yeah, so you’ve told me. You aren’t so bad yourself.”

“That’s the best you got?” Shane chuckled. “What happened to “You’re so handsome, Shane! You’re the best husband ever, I love you so much!” he joked.

You giggled and rolled your eyes. “You’re so handsome, Shane,” you said as you started sinking down onto him. “You’re the best husband ever.” You took him until he bottomed out inside you, moaning at the feeling. “I love you so much.”

He hummed and went back to groping at your ass. “I love you too. Shit, you feel so good. Move for me, baby.”

"Yes sir." He chuckled at that, but it was quickly cut off with a hiss when you pulled off of him and pushed back down. In, out. Out, in.

"Fuuuck…" he groaned, fingers digging hard into your butt. "Yoba, baby, that’s good. Yeah, like that."

You moaned softly and began to move faster. “Oh, fuck- Shane-“

"I know," he whispered through pants. "Yeah, shit- just like that, mhmm..."

You gasped when one of his fingers touched your asshole, circling the tight ring. "Holy shit, Shane," you whined.

He smiled as his finger continued to prod, testing the waters. "Is that okay?"

You nodded eagerly. "Yeah, it's okay. Don't stop."

"I gotcha honey, I won't," he assured you, gently sliding his finger in up to the first knuckle. "Good?"

"Yes, holy shit," you moaned. It felt incredible, being filled up like this. "More. Please."

Who was he to deny you? He slid his finger up further, kissing you the whole time and checking in every now and then to make sure you were still okay with it.

You were. It felt amazing despite the sting that came with exploring that previously untouched area, overwhelming in the best way. You'd stopped moving at that point, too overcome by sensation to do anything but sit there and appreciate the feeling. Shane began shallowly thrusting up into you to replace your lack of movement, and your eyes nearly rolled into the back of your head. "Oh, fuck!"

Shane pulled his finger out of you, chuckling when you whined at the loss, and then pushed it back in, just as slow and gentle as the first time. "You close? You're fucking squeezing me."

You giggled breathlessly, panting as you grinded against him. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm gonna cum."

"Yeah? Cum, honey. C'mon. Wanna feel it," Shane moaned.

You took the opportunity to tease him. "Quiet, Shane. You'll wake up Sam," you whispered.

"Can't have that," he responded, a smirk playing on his lips. He began to thrust harder at that, chasing after both yours and his releases.

His finger pumped in and out of your ass faster now, his other hand finding your clit. The combined sensations had you cumming around him in seconds, moaning loudly as white-hot pleasure washed over you.

"That's it, pretty girl. There you go. Thaaaat's it," Shane cooed as his thrusts grew more erratic. "I'm gonna cum, where do you want it?" he panted.

"Inside," you whined as you began to move again, helping him towards his orgasm.

Within moments he was spilling inside you, holding you tight against him. "I love you, baby, you're so perfect, shit-" he rambled as he came down from his high.

The post-orgasm afterglow was cut short, unfortunately, by the distant cries of your daughter.

"Shit." You climbed off his lap, hurriedly putting your shirt back on. "I'll be right back, okay?"

Shane nodded and got up to put his own clothes on as you rushed to your daughter's room. Once you managed to silence her once more, you came back to find Shane already asleep. You giggled and climbed in behind him, wrapping your arms around him as sleep overcame you too.

[otteropera]

Protector (Jon Snow x Reader)

A/N - This doesn't really take place at any specific time in GOT, I kinda got the idea and went on a writing rampage all in one night lol. Its been almost two years since I've posted a fic on here, and I've found comfort in writing these silly little stories. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it :)

Warnings - violence, mentions of blood, attempted kidnapping(?)/adultnapping

Word count - 3.1k

My parents were almost assassinated in their sleep. I was only alive because of the guard who saw the assailant climbing up to my window. My father immediately demanded I go into hiding, and worked hard to find an able-bodied man he trusted to help me get somewhere safely.

The Starks of Winterfell had always been trusted by father, he’d known Eddard and Catelyn longer than I’d been alive. So it wasn't too much of a surprise when I found out who would be taking me to safety, and where I would be going. The journey from Barrowton to Winterfell is about eleven days, if you don't stop for any reason. If you do, then it's closer to fourteen. There are only a few inns and taverns on the way to Winterfell, and I’d only convinced Jon to stop at one of them.

The Riverside Inn was a small establishment in the middle of nowhere. There was a family that owned and ran it, who were very friendly to Jon Snow and I. We'd been on the road for the past few days and I was desperate to sit next to a warm fire and eat homemade stew, rather than biting off pieces of dried jerky and contemplating if my extremities had fallen off due to frostbite. The more we traveled, the farther north we were, and the colder it got. Jon had tied our horses up outside.

"Evenin' you two," the innkeeper smiled at us. The sun had just started settling below the trees. "What can I get ya?" His voice was brash, but welcoming.

"Two rooms and some food." Jon answered. "And whatever you've got that will keep us warm."

He chuckled. "I'll have your room ready right away. And what'll you have? Stew or soup?"

"Stew please," I said.

"Me as well."

He nodded. "You're lucky. It's really good tonight. I made it myself."

We both sat down at a table near the fireplace. It was nice to be sitting inside again. I took off my thick gloves and warmed my hands on the stones, I could have melted right there. I looked up at Jon who sat across from me, but his gaze was making its way around the room, like he was trying to study every inch, making sure it was safe. It was a quaint little inn, with wooden floors and furniture. A staircase led up to a lofted area, with a few doors that I assumed were the different bedrooms. The walls were decorated with tapestries and various antlers. The large hearth dominated the center of the common area. The innkeeper walked over with bowls of stew and some bread. The smell was heavenly, I had to hold back a smile on my face.

"How long has this place been here?" I asked the innkeeper. He put the food down in front of us as Jon fumbled in his pouch for some coins. He gave me a look that said 'Don't be too friendly, we don't know this man.'

"Oh, forever. This is my home," He laughed. "It's been here since before I was born. Me wife and son help run the place." He collected the coins from Jon. Thankfully, my fathers advisor had given us more than enough to get to Winterfell. The Innkeeper headed back to the front of the Inn.

I couldn't imagine it would ever get too busy here, we were in the middle of the woods, only a small dirt road led up to this place. I started digging into my stew, sopping up the bread with the hot liquid. I could eat this meal for the rest of my life. As I was shoveling scoops of stew into my mouth, I felt Jon staring at me. I looked up at him.

"What?" I asked, wiping my mouth.

"Nothing, My Lady," He shook his head. My stomach flipped. Gods, if he wasn't looking at me like that, this whole trip would be much less nerve-wracking.

"There's no need to call me that," I muttered.

He sighed. "Sorry."

"It's fine," I muttered, somehow even quieter.

He glanced at me. "Are you alright?"

I nodded. "Yes, why wouldn't I be?"

"Just checking."

He stared at me for another moment and then turned back to his stew. I ate quietly for a while, enjoying the warmth of the fire and the company of him. I devoured my stew, and finished the last piece of bread. I wiped my bowl clean with a crusty chunk of bread, and placed it on the table.

"That was delicious," I said, looking up at the Innkeeper. "Thank you."

"My pleasure." 

I noticed Jon looking at me again, trying to suppress a smile, or a laugh.

"What is it?" I asked incredulously.

"I've just never seen a Lady eat like that."

I rolled my eyes. I supposed I was being quite sloppy, but in my defense, we'd barely eaten all day. I was famished.

"Well, I'm glad you enjoyed it," I said, standing up, I grabbed my gloves and the pouch of coins Jon had set on the table and walked over to the Innkeeper.

"Excuse me, you wouldn't happen to have any horse feed, would you?" I asked. He turned around, eyebrows raised. "We're riding out tomorrow morning, and our horses are getting hungry."

He smiled. "Of course, I'll be right back." He ran off towards the back of the inn. I heard him rummaging through the shelves. He returned with a sack full of grain.

"Here you go," He handed the sack to me. "Is this enough?"

"It should be," I replied, taking the bag. "Thank you," I handed him coins, which he seemed surprised at.

"No problem," He grinned. "Enjoy the rest of your stay."

I smiled at him softly and headed out the front of the Inn. The snow was starting to layer the ground, it crunched beneath my feet. I heard the same crunching a few paces behind me. It was Jon, not letting me out of his sight. I huffed.

"Do you mind?" I asked, turning around.

"Not at all," He said. "I just don't want you walking alone."

"Why?" I asked, feeling slightly offended.

"I was told to bring you to Winterfell, unharmed. That's what I plan on doing."

I bit my tongue. "You can't protect me from everything, Jon."

"I can try."

I gave up on the back and forth as we approached the horses, holding the bag of grain up to them one at a time. They sniffed curiously at the bag.

"They're pretty well fed," I commented, "I don't think they'll starve."

"I hope not," He chuckled.

The sun had gone down almost entirely, the sky darkening quickly.

"I know it'll be safer for me elsewhere, but I miss my home already," I commented.

"I'm sure you do," his voice was soft. I glanced up at him and saw him looking back gingerly. "But it will be safe there."

"How do you know?" I whispered.

"Because I'm going with you."

Once we finished feeding the horses, we went back inside and flocked to the hearth, but the Innkeeper wasn't anywhere to be seen. We sat by the fire for a while, listening to the crackling flames and talking about nothing important. I found that my eyelids were growing heavier, the warmth from the fire practically lulling me to sleep.

"You should probably get some sleep," Jon insisted.

"You as well. I am tired," I agreed, yawning. I stood up and made my way up the staircase, Jon following me. The rooms were small, but Jon and I each had our own. That was the most important thing.

"Good night, My Lady," he said, trying to suppress a smile. I let out a dry laugh.

"Good night, Jon Snow." I closed the door behind me, finally alone for a moment. I tore off my boots and stripped out of my clothes, leaving only my underclothes, and crawled into bed. I pulled the furs up to my chin and laid there, closing my eyes. I could hear Jon moving around in the room next to mine, the walls so thin. I found it comforting for some reason.

I drifted off to sleep, thinking of home.

***

I'd never been a particularly light sleeper, but this was something different. I'd been a bit on edge during the journey, less so with Jon Snow accompanying me, but still. This was more than I'd ever experienced before. I woke up suddenly, hearing a noise outside the window. I looked over at the wall, seeing nothing unusual. I listened carefully, hearing the sound again. There was definitely something outside the window. I got out of bed and crept over to it, peering out cautiously.

There was a figure standing by the horses. It was hard to tell in the darkness, but it appeared to be a man. He was dressed in dark colors, and wore a hooded cloak, making it difficult to see his face, but I could tell he was staring straight at me. I held my breath, hoping he would leave soon.

He did not.

Instead, he began to walk towards the inn. I rushed as quickly as I could out of my room and one door over. I yanked it open.

"Jon-" I started, but the bed was empty. Was this the wrong room? No, I remembered hearing him last night before falling asleep. Before I had more time to think, a bag was thrusted over my head, and I felt a blade at my throat.

"Don't scream," A deep voice said. "Or I'll slit your throat."

I froze, terrified. The knife pressed against my neck was cold and sharp. I couldn't move, my heart racing wildly. His grip, wrapped around my shoulders, started forcing me down the steps. I would have tripped if he hadn't been holding me so tight. I tried to keep my breathing even, but my chest sputtered with every breath.

We reached the bottom of the stairs, and I was pushed forward through the common room, toward another pair of arms that grasped me. How many of them are there? Hands roughly grasped my wrists, securing them together with an itchy rope.

"Where is he?" One of the men demanded.

"We don't know sir."

"Well, bloody find him!" The man angrily demanded. I could feel his hands on my back, pushing me further along. I stumbled, and the man grabbed my arm tightly.

"Let go of me!" I yelled, struggling to free myself. "What do you want with me?"

"Shut up," The man growled, pulling me closer. "Keep walking."

I could tell we exited the Inn by the sudden drop in temperature and remembered I was still only in my underclothes, suddenly feeling exposed. It must have been snowing still because the cold powdery substance stuck to my feet and sent a chill up my spine. The man shoved me to the ground. I nearly face planted, but rolled onto my back. I wish I hadn't because the man put his foot down on my chest to keep me from getting away. He made it much harder to breathe. The bag over my head forced me to use other senses to interpret my surroundings, but all I heard was the crunching of snow beneath my feet. And then shouts coming from the Inn.

"Stop! Stop right there!" I recognized the voice as the Innkeeper's.

The man released his foot from me, and I rolled over onto my stomach, gasping for air. I tried to push myself up, but the man kicked me in the ribs. Hard.

"Stay down," He commanded.

I struggled to sit up, but the man kicked me again, this time in the stomach. I cried out in pain, collapsing back to the ground.

"I said stay down!" The man screamed.

I heard the commotion of the men battling with the innkeeper, and from the sounds of it, it wasn't going too well. I took advantage of their distraction and scrambled to my feet, bringing my tied hands to my head and ripping off the bag, running as fast as I could. I didn't get very far before I was tackled to the ground, the force of the impact knocking the wind out of me. I felt hands grabbing my arms and legs, pinning me to the ground. My vision blurred, and I couldn't focus.

"No," I gasped, trying desperately to pull away.

The man threw me to the side, and I landed hard on my shoulder. I grunted, wincing in pain.

"You're no good to us dead, girl." The man laughed. "So you better behave yourself." I lay on the ground, unable to move. No more than twenty feet away was the Inn, with the Innkeeper lying lifelessly on the ground. I could hear the sounds of fighting coming from inside. One of the men seemed to notice the commotion as well and headed inside. I tried to stand on my feet with what power I had left, but the man who tackled me to the ground took notice and slapped me across the face. I fell back into the snow. I could hardly breathe. I wanted to cry. I wanted to see my parents one last time.

Jon Snow came barreling out of the Inn. He was covered in blood. I could see the red splatter on his armor, and he looked furious. The man next to me looked terrified.

"Get away from her," Jon roared.

The man hesitated. He seemed unable to decide whether he should stick to his plan or save his life. He turned to run, but Jon caught him. He held him close, slamming his fist into the man's gut. The man doubled over and Jon punched him again, this time in the head. Hard. The man dropped to the ground, unconscious.

Jon stood catching his breath. His head turned to me and his eyes immediately softened. He knelt beside me, pulling apart the rope that tied my hands together.

"Are you okay?" Jon asked quickly, looking at me worriedly.

"I'm alive," I said shakily. He raised his hand and grazed where the man had slapped me. No doubt the skin was red, it felt tender.

"I'm so sorry. I heard them and went out to see what was going on but there were more than I expected and-"

"Jon," I cut off his rambling. His eyes locked with mine. "It's okay. I'm okay." I wrapped my arms around myself. The snow plus my lack of clothing wasn't helping. He immediately noticed this and took off his cloak, wrapping it around me. It was bloodied but I didn't care.

"Come on," He said, helping me to my feet. "We need to get out of here." He wrapped an arm around my waist, but I hissed at the contact. He'd touched where the man had kicked me.

"I'm sorry," he said with sad eyes.

He led me to the Inn door, which was now open. I could see the fight inside was over. I counted six men in total who laid lifeless on the floor. There was blood everywhere. I couldn't believe Jon had taken them all by himself. He helped me sit down next to the fire, which was now only embers.

"I'll grab your things." He swiftly went up the stairs and into the room I had slept in. I was thankful he didn't have me try to climb the stairs. He came back down after less than a minute with the rest of my clothes, my boots, and the small satchel I had brought with me. I started dressing myself back up, and I could tell Jon was unsure about trying to help me or not. 

“I-I’ll get the horses ready.” I almost groaned at the thought of riding a horse right now. Jon started making his way towards the door but stopped himself. “Are you alright? … Doing that?” It was almost funny to me, how he just murdered half a dozen folks with no problem but felt embarrassed asking me if I needed help getting dressed.

“Yes,” I replied quietly. He nodded curtly and was out the door. He came back after a minute or two, just as I was finishing lacing up my boots.

“The horse is ready, we should get going before anyone else shows up.” Jon held out his hand for me which I graciously took.

“Horse? As in one?” I asked, feeling a nervous pit in my stomach. 

“They um… killed the other ones.” My brows furrowed in confusion. Why would they kill the horses? So we couldn’t escape? Why didn’t they kill me either? They had plenty of chances to.

We walked out the front of the inn for the last time, and I took one last glance at the Innkeeper, who was splayed on the ground, his blood turning the snow red. The horse sighed as we walked over to it. I wondered if it knew that it almost lost its life. Jon got up onto the horse first and I felt my cheeks redden as I further realized our situation. It was a bit awkward trying to get my leg over it, trying to stifle my whimper from the injuries I was aggravating. Did Jon get hurt at all? Did he even have a scratch? If so, he sure was good at hiding it.

Jon reached down and gently grabbed my waist, pulling me close to him. I tried to ignore the way his hands graced my sides. He pulled me tight to his body and I felt the warmth of his chest even through his thick cloak. This saddle definitely wasn't made for two people.

"How are you always so warm?" I asked as he brought his arms around me to grab the reins on the horse. Jon chuckled, his mouth so close to my ear I could feel his warm breath. Goosebumps prickled up my back and down my arms. He whistled and the horse started clopping away from the Inn.

"Maybe you're always cold."

We fell into a comfortable silence, and I felt myself relaxing up against Jon more and more. He didn't seem to mind. This was probably the warmest I'd been while traveling yet. I won't complain.

"Thank you," I whispered, "you saved my life."

"You don't need to thank me, I did what any man would do."

"No, really," I insisted. "You risked your own life for me. You could've run off when you first saw them. You could've left me there."

"I wouldn't be able to live with myself if anything happened to you."

[sophietv]

It's not about kaylor but I really want to know about the song all too well. Who is it about? I think Jake G was PR. And the lyrics doesn't fit the Taymily narrative either. This song and the relationship seems very important to her. It hurt her badly. I am asking you because you always make very informative and reliable post that makes sense and closest to the truth.

Also who is Dear John about? Is it really John Mayer? Her only straight relationship I believe in is Joe Jonas.

Hi!

Thank you sooo much for saying that! It means a lot. I really can't claim that my theories are always 1000% right, but I do make a lot of research before posting, and try to cross check everything.

2. I must admit that when you asked the question, I did not have real solid theories or evidence to give you. I was even bending toward telling you that the song might be about Lizz since the timestamp of the song on Spotiy is 5:27 = Lizz birthday.

3. Considering that Taylor wrote this during Speak Now Era and that Lizz was present during that Era, well it doesn't fit the narrative of the song being about a relationship that has ended some time ago. And also, it would have been really weird to write this song during rehearsal where Lizz was present, if it was about her...

But thanks to you! I did a lot of research to try and find evidences (I read all the timelines but I'm not that well verse in what came before Kaylor and Swiftgron).

I asked what my groupchat thought about this.

Re-read the Taymily Masterpost (X)

Read and watched Taymily interviews

And now! I can say with more confidence, that I'm pretty sure this song is about Emily Poe, her fiddle player that worked with her from 2006-2008.

Now. Here's the evidences:

First. As pointed out by my group chat, the song does not seem to fit Tayliz dynamic. It seems to be talking about a complicated relationship with someone older.

As by the lyrics "you said if we were closer in age, maybe it would have been fine"

So first thing I did is look back as to when it was written.

Here's a piece of interview I found:

Thanks to this post: (X)

We know that she wrote it during her reheasal in 2011.

Because here's when David Cook started working with her:

And here's the date of his first show in the Phillipines:

February 2011....

Then, I did a little digging on what was going on with Emily at the time:

And oh does it get interesting!!

Here's an Emily's interview I found (X)

And here's what she was doign in February 2011!!! (I'm excited of the evidence I've found, does it show lol) :

"Two thousand eleven was a big year for me. I became engaged in February, graduated law school in May, took the bar in July, and Eli and I were married in November.”

What did Taylor said?: "I was feeling terrible about what was going on in my personal life"

What if she just learned about Emily's engagement???

And to make it even more interesting. Here's a journal entry with the first lyrics of All Too Well:

Confirming that it was written in 2011.

This is inchteresting.

But it gets better!

Because, before last year, Emily's Pinterest was public. And on her wedding board, she did save a picture with a red scarf....

It's not Emily, it's just a picture that she had saved in her Pinterest. Thanks to Kate for giving me this!

But what if the red scarf was really just to tie the song to Jake???

Here's another interesting thing I've found in the Taymily timeline:

This letter is from the video she made to Emily when she left, with everyone having "I love you Emily" signs.

It says:

“Emily– I feel as if our relationship has been taken to the next level over the past few months and with much contemplation I decided I would bestow upon you one of my most prized possession: my flamingo bandana. This is a 3rd generation family heirloom and i suggest you frame it. I think it will look perfect in your apartment with the cat pillows. Enjoy”

Inchteresting....is the red scarf a bandana??

Also. We know that All Too Well was really significant for Taylor and that for a long time, she was not able to sing it without crying...

So it's about a relationship that had a big impact on her life.

Very recently. Like in June, Taylor performed the song Breathe as a surprise song and very clearly cried during that performance.

The next day, we learned that the day before the show, Emily did this post on Facebook:

Breathe was heavily rumored to be about Emily back when Fearless came out. But Colbie confirmed it with Fealess Taylor's Version in an interview when she said that it was about something that was going on with one of Taylor's band membre.

So yeah... this would make way more sense being about Emily and having Taylor be emotional singing it for a long time.

Than the song being about a relationship that lasted 3 months.

Of course I can't know for sure for all her relationships...

But most of them I believe was PR. Like the one she had with Jake.

Thanks for the question! It was really interesting doing all those research!

ADDITION!! : It just hit me but! The line "And you call me up again just to break me like a promise"

Fits perfectly with Emily calling her to tell her about the engagement! omg...

SECOND ADDITION: This morning when I woke up, I thought about two things that points to Emily!

1. Taylor turned 21 in 2010, 2 months before writing All Too Well.

"And you call me later and say sorry I didn't make it and I say I'm sorry too" from The Moment I Knew

to two months later:

"And you called me up again just to break me like a promise"

2. The night Taylor sang Breathe and looked devastated after Emily's Facebook post. She also sang All Too Well looking REALLY MAD.

People have all noted it.

Look: (X)

This solidifies even more that All Too Well is about Emily for me...

[holdupjack]

The Captains Princess

——————

Part 2

Pairing: Hermione Granger x Fem!Reader

AU: Pirate/Monarchy

WARNINGS: MENTIONS OF VIOLENCE/SEXUAL INNUENDOS

——————

Third Person P.O.V:

September 18th, 1655

Hermione Granger was part of a well-known and very respected royal family that looked after the island country that fell under Danish rule.

(A/N: I'm talking about Iceland btw, or Islandia if you want to be technical. If I read my history books correctly, which I probably didn't, then Iceland should have been under Danish rule at this point? I'm not sure, just go with it lol)

The island held a Volcano in the southwest, the land around it was now uninhabited, after a horrible tragedy ten years ago.

The mountain had suddenly come to life, spewing ash and molten rock onto the people below. Everyone at the edge of the city was able to evacuate at the time, but most were lost under the hardened rock or simply melted away.

Hermione was eleven at the time, and she remembered watching the smoke pouring over the mountains from her window.

Her mother had ushered her away, closing the window and cooping her up in the library for the entire week.

Yet, she saw what was happening at night.

The sky had gone dark, the lack of the sun and stars caused by ash as it was carried by the wind and into the main city. It covered everything like black paint, forcing everyone to cough and heave as they shoveled everything into wagons, sending it back into the outskirts of the destroyed town.

It took months, but eventually, Hermione was free to roam the city once more. Later did she learn how many of the people had died from the ash and eruption.

The number was staggering.

Now she is twenty-one, well almost, and the population had doubled in size since that day.

Her coronation was to be held tomorrow, on the day of her birth, and where she would take over the kingdom for her father and mother. It wasn't something she was excited about, but she knew it needed to be done.

In all honesty, she wanted to see the world.

She wished to explore the structures of Egypt and the booming colonies of America. Everything she had read in books and newspapers fueled her intrigue to extreme measures, but she had a job to do. Whether she wanted to do it or not.

Hermione now sat in the city garden, the smell of the Lupine flower filled her nose as royal guards stood close by.

Seagulls called over her as she heard the yelling of men and women near the docks, the shade of the Aspen Tree above her made it easier to read the newspaper in her hand.

'Virginia Blockaded By England After Declaring Allegiance To The House Of Stuart'

Hermione knew little about what went on around the world, but it still shocked her with the decisions people made.

"Come on Cap! Why did we even stop at this god-forsaken place?"

The Princess's eyes flickered up to find a group of three walking down the sidewalk nearby.

A woman around her age stood in the middle of them with a wide grin. Two tall men walked on either side of her, they seemed to be twins. One had long hair that was up in a ponytail, while the other kept it almost like a guard's military cut.

"I told you two, we need a new navigator since the last one died in the battle outside the British seas!" She replies as they made their way into one of the pubs. Hermione raised an eyebrow as the group disappeared into the building, the door shutting loudly behind them.

Her curiosity peaked, she wondered how this girl became a captain so young, and had so many questions about the lands outside of her own.

"Excuse me Princess, but we must get you back to the castle. Your mother wanted you to help pick out the last bit of details before your celebration tomorrow" A guard states as he had somehow snuck up beside her.

"Oh yes, let us be going" Hermione mumbled as she stood up and folded the newspaper under her arm. Her eyes stayed on the pub door a few moments longer before she ripped them away.

Yet, she thought back on the Captain.

Only had watched her for less than a minute, but now she seemed to hold her curiosity by the neck.

Maybe she would see her tomorrow?

It was an 'everyone invited' event after all.

——————

September 19th

Hermione sat on her father's throne, wearing a beautiful pure white dress that had originally been her grandmother's coronation dress. The Royal Tailor had taken in it for Hermione to update it to the current times of fashion.

She felt like she was getting married.

Well, she supposed she was in a sense? She was vowing her time, love, and dedication to her country.

The main hall was filled shoulder to shoulder with everyone around the land. Children, adults, and elderly alike all talked amongst each other as servers passed out food and drink.

The coronation wasn't till later in the night when they would crown her at exactly twelve, so she may begin her reign as queen immediately.

Hermione looked down at her lap and sighed softly, she felt as though her life was slipping through her fingers.

A soft whistle cut through the crowd.

She looked back at the party, no one else noticed the call for her acknowledgment, but it wasn't hard to find the whistler.

The Captain from the day before stood at the edge of the crowd, looking up at her with the same grin she wore in the street.

Instead of the normal attire that the women wore, she sported a nice white shirt and some black pants. Hermione could see the passing judgment people gave her as they walked by.

The future Queen raised an eyebrow, to which the Captain nodded her head over to the open balcony near them.

Hermione gave a small smile in return as the Captain disappeared back into the crowd. The royal stood up to follow after, but her mother walked up to her with a puzzled look on her face.

"Who were you eyeing in the crowd? A future husband?" She asks with a slight tease in her voice as Hermione chuckled at the question.

"A new friend, maybe" Hermione replies as she started to make her way into the crowd, her mother raises a brow at her retreating form.

"Getting some air?" She calls after, but Hermione was already too far by the time she did.

The music from the small string band seemed louder on the main floor as people greeted and smiled at her.

As she got to the doorway of the balcony, a guard stopped her with his arm.

"Do you know the woman that is standing out there?" He asks, as she peered out into the night, she could see the back of the Captain's head.

"Yes, and I would like to talk to them in private if you don't mind?" She replies to which he drops his arm and nodded.

He quickly opened the door for her and closed it as soon as she stepped out into the cold air.

"It's nice to finally meet you Queen Granger" the woman speaks as she turned around and smiled again.

"I'm not Queen yet, and please, call me Hermione" she replies as she stepped to the edge of the balcony and looked over the almost vacant city.

"Greetings then Hermione, my name is Captain Y/n Y/l/n. At your service, of course." the woman greets as she held out her hand for her.

Why did that name sound familiar?

Hermione watched her with a playful intrigued stare as she let her hand be taken and kissed upon by the sailor.

"What may I do for you, Captain?" Hermione asks as she felt goosebumps raise from the skin the women had pecked.

The Captain smiled again as she watched the Princess stand at the parapet with her.

(A/N: a parapet is a wall-like structure around a balcony or terrace, saved you guys a Google search.)

"Well, a little birdie told me that you're a prodigy at navigating and that you have helped map out this entire country with your expeditions," Y/n says and Hermione chuckled.

It was true, when she wasn't forced to be cooped up in the castle, Hermione was out mapping and exploring the country. She had journals upon journals in her room filled with sketches of plants, animals, and landmarks.

As you could guess, she had learned from the guardsmen how to use the stars when a compass would fail them in their endeavors

(A/N: btw, didn't know that compasses were invented so early. The first one ever recorded was in 1190. Omg we're learning so many things in this imagine, I love it.)

Her parents were always so worried about killers and thieves when she would plan a trip, but it wasn't like she wasn't being sent out with a small army with her.

"Yes, may I ask why you wanted to know?" Hermione questioned as she stared up at the beautiful night sky. Millions of stars poked through an inky abyss.

"I'll reveal that later on, but before I do, it seems you have questions to ask me" Y/n replied as she smirked at the beautiful royal.

Hermione hummed and thought for a moment, she had many questions, so she had to play her cards right.

"Are you part of a fleet? Or are you a...freelance type of Captain?" the Princess asks discreetly as she heard one of the Guards talking behind the glass door.

"Let's just say I have more fun without a boss around" Y/n replies as Hermione chuckled.

Great, she was talking to a Pirate.

"I'm surprised you haven't recognized me, I've been in the paper recently" the Captain states, causing Hermione to turn to get a better look at her.

Y/n poses as it clicks in Hermione's mind, no wonder her name sounded familiar.

"Wait, are you that Captain that stole almost half of the treasury of Venice?" she replies as Y/n began to snicker quietly as the Princess stared at her in disbelief.

"Ah don't look at me like that! We gave almost all of it back to the people!" Y/n says as she continued to grin at her, to which Hermione just chuckled in astonishment.

"Have you come to steal our treasury then? Distract me while your friends pillage us dry?" she asks with honest questioning, which caused Y/n to laugh softly at her conclusion.

"That's a smart idea, I might have to try it sometime, but no. We didn't come to steal any money from you." she replied as she turned her body toward the Princess, who didn't even look concerned at the fact that she was standing shoulder to shoulder with an enemy of many cities

"Then why did you come here?" Hermione asks as she turned herself towards her mysterious company.

Y/n's eyes travel down her body slowly, the royal felt hot for some reason, it wasn't foreign to Hermione to feel men undressing her with their eyes.

Maybe because it was a woman this time around that she felt...different.

Yet, it wasn't an uncomfortable feeling.

"My crew and I came here looking for the best navigator in this country since we're on a hit list in the other ones," Y/n says as she gazed back up into Hermione sight. The Captain's intrigue in her past time now made a lot more sense.

"Before you even ask, the answer is 'no'." Hermione states as Y/n rolled her eyes.

"Aw come on Princess, I've been watching you at this party all night, and you have been miserable!" Y/n sighs, which sort of reminded Hermione of an annoyed child trying to prove their point.

"I've made a promise to my country-"

"Not yet"

"-and my parents! I'm not going to run off with some pirate Captain that thinks of herself as a modern-day Robin Hood!" Hermione whispers with her own annoyance laced in her words.

"Who said you have to take over anyways?" Y/n asks as she stepped closer, forcing Hermione to take in the sea salt aroma she carried on her skin, which wasn't a surprise.

"No one said! I'm just doing my due diligence to my family-" she was cut off again by the captain's eye roll.

"You know what? Why am I even arguing with you? The answer is 'no'." Hermione whisper yells as she turned on her heel and went to step back into the party.

"When was the last time you did something for yourself?"

This made the Princess pause and turn back around. Her mouth fell slightly at the question that was just asked to her. She has never been talked to like this, and it ticked her off to see that Captain's face was still grinning.

"Excuse me?" She laughs out in disbelief as Y/n jumped up onto the wall around the balcony, and sat down.

"It's a fair question, you seem like you've had all the fun sucked out of you since you were little" Y/n hums as Hermione slightly tripped up on her dress, but walked up to her nonetheless.

"All have you know, I am very fun" she protests with a pointed finger as Y/n just playful smiled at her, trying to keep the conversation going between them.

Why was Hermione even trying to defend her personality from some grinning criminal pirate?

"Also, stop smiling!" She whispers as Y/n looked her over again, letting her lips fall from her toothy grin to a subtle rise of the corners of her mouth.

"I'm sorry Princess, I just find you very pretty" she admits, which caused Hermione to be struck dumbfounded.

Who just admits that after asking a Princess to join their gang of murderous pirates?

"Well, uh, thank you," Hermione says as she cleared her throat, and smoothed down the front of the dress. Her embarrassment from her outburst started to set in, she never got this upset with anyone, and she has sat down with political parties.

"But flattery won't get you anywhere" she states as Y/n picked at a loose string on her pant leg.

"Listen, my ship is docked at the east bay. I'll have one of my men holding a lantern on deck during his patrols, in case you want to visit me before your crowning." Y/n says as she jumped back into the floor and dusted off her pants, pulling out a pocket watch.

"You have two hours before you get crowned and we head off to some new land that people are calling the 'West Indies'. A friend of mine was even able to send us a map of its location, we'll get there with or without you." Y/n states as Hermione's interest seemed to skyrocket again.

"You said that you needed a navigator? Won't you get lost?" She replies as Y/n stuffs the device back in her pocket.

"I'm not just a ruthless Robin Hood Captain with a small army of society rejects, but I'm also a decent enough Wayfinder!" Y/n hums as she went to step towards the door, back into the party. Hermione quickly stopped her with a hand to the Captain's chest, she burned her eyes into Y/n's.

"You'll be lost within a day" Hermione states as Y/n leaned closer, causing their noses to bump slightly.

"Maybe, or we'll be right as rain" she replies as they stared at one another with glares that held different meanings. It's quiet between them as the people in the hall began to sing a drinking song.

"Too bad you'll be marrying yourself off to some child-like man" Y/n mumbled as she let her harden gaze drop, Hermione furrowed her brows at the statement.

A questionable time to bring that up.

"Why do you say that? Do you think you could do better?" She asks with a scoff as the Captain took her arm and began to move them to a secluded corner.

"Much better" Y/n whispers as they hide from any prying eyes in the main hall. Hermione hummed as the woman stepped even closer, their heads tilted to the side as their lips ghosted one another's.

"You say that, but you probably have a different girl in your quarters every night," the Princess says as her hands grasped Y/n's hips in an attempt to steady herself.

Hermione started to question her own intentions at this moment, trying to figure out how their argument turned so scandalous in a matter of seconds.

"I haven't been to bed with another in many voyages, but when I saw you in that garden yesterday, I knew that needed to change," Y/n admits as her body pinned Hermione to the wall behind her.

"You saw me?" Hermione asks as the sailor hummed and pressed a kiss to the corner of the royal's lips.

"My crew thinks I'm just asking you to be our navigator, but I have had my own intentions from the start," Y/n says as she left a trail of kisses down to Hermione's neck.

She should push her away, Hermione knew better than to let a random criminal kiss and nip on her skin like this, but in all honesty...she was enjoying this Captain's touch more than she would like to admit.

"Come sail by my side, be my Princess" Y/n whispers into her ear, sending a shiver down Hermione's back as goosebumps rose onto her arms and her hands gripped the woman's hips.

"I don't know you, or your intentions" Hermione replies as Y/n kissed her jaw, but she ultimately hummed in agreement.

"That's true, you don't know anything about me" she states as she backed away to look at the flushed girl, who looks as if she had dipped her face in red paint.

"But, we have a little bit of time before your crowning, so what would you like to know?" Y/n asks as she stepped away and jumped back to sit on the balcony again.

They could now be seen again by any snooping partygoers and patrolling guards.

Hermione stood up straight as she pushed down the wrinkles on her dress, and brushed away any lint or dirt she saw.

"You!...you should know better than to push yourself onto a Princess!" She whispers as Y/n's grin made its reappearance, almost teasing her to come closer and make it disappear.

Whether from a slap or a kiss, Hermione wasn't certain.

"You could have pushed me away" Y/n replies, making the young Granger pause and try to come up with a valid excuse.

"You caught me off guard"

"Mhm"

Y/n began to quietly snicker as Hermione just huffed and crossed her arms against her chest. She was making herself out to be a stupid bratty princess, and she was not.

"You know that asking someone you find pretty to join your crew and leave her country behind, isn't a very good way to ask them on a date" Hermione chuckles as she started to relax slightly, now finding her smile less irritating as time went on.

"I've never asked a woman on a date before, I use to only pay for their company when I was younger," Y/n says as she shrugged her shoulders and looked down at her dangling feet.

Hermione noted the embarrassed behavior she exhibited, almost like she was insecure that she had to pay for a woman in her bed at night.

"I understand when it comes to society on land, with their prejudices about two women being together." Hermione starts as she thought back on the people who had been run out of their city because of silly ideals.

"Yet, I thought Pirates didn't care? As long as they got their drinks, money, and partners out of it." She asks as she heard a clank of beer mugs and cheers from men inside.

"Of course, they don't care, it's just hard to date another sailing woman, especially if they are part of another ship" Y/n answers with a sigh as she pinched the bridge of her nose.

"You must have girls on your own crew then?" Hermione questioned as she took a step closer. Y/n look back at her with a laugh and shook her head in quick succession.

"They're like my sisters!" Y/n states, which made Hermione chuckle as well. She guessed that made sense since probably being on a ship for months on end would bring them all closer as a family more than anything,

"Also, all of my crew has lads or lasses back home waiting for them to return" Y/n continues as she laid down on the parapet, one leg swung over the edge while her other foot was planted on the stone, and her knee pointed to the sky,

"Be careful, we're high up" Hermione stated as she stepped closer, her fingers twitched as she stopped herself from grabbing ahold of the girl.

They were just one story up, but it was still high enough to break something.

"I've fallen from the crow's nest of my ship, multiple times! This is nothing." Y/n chuckles as she locked her fingers and puts them behind her head as a makeshift pillow.

"I'm guessing you drank one too many pints?" Hermione asks as her eyes scanned the Captain's body.

"See? You're getting to know me so well already!" Y/n replies as they chuckled together.

"Did you land in the water each time? Or have you somehow not died from that yet?" The Princess asks as her hand finally grasped the hem of her shirt.

"Almost all were in the water, but last time I hurt myself real bad" Y/n replies as one hand snuck out from under her head and hooked a finger around the fabric between Hermione's breasts, pulling her closer again.

They weren't hiding anymore, this was a dangerous position to be in, but maybe that was the point.

Was Y/n trying to get her shunned from the castle for engaging in scandalous behavior with another woman?

A fucked up way to force her to join her crew?

Hermione suddenly backed away and cleared her throat, pushing down her wrinkles again.

"As entertaining as this conversation has been, I must go back to my party" she sighs as her chin went back to being high and mighty, and her back as straight as a wooden beam.

"Do you have to?" Y/n asks as she sat back up, causing Hermione to smile. Her childlike questions were almost begging, like she truly didn't want Hermione to walk away.

"I must, it is my birthday party after all" she replies and Y/n hums as she thought of an excuse for her to stay just a little bit longer.

"Just answer one more question," Y/n asks to which Hermione raised her eyebrow in return as the Captain stood back in front of her.

"Will I see you tonight?"

They stared at one another for a few moments, the air around them was chilly, but a slight heat seem to burn between them.

Hermione then just walked away.

That told Y/n that it wasn't a 'no', but it wasn't a 'yes' either.

She wondered what went through that beauty's mind, and if she knew that she had easily gotten a stoic sailor on her toes.

——————

When Y/n had arrived back at the port with no one in tow, Ginny gave a loud sigh from the deck of 'The Morrigan'.

"Captain on deck!" Ron yells near the bow of the ship.

"Is she-" she starts but the Captain quickly raised her hand in a 'stop' gesture and grabbed the lantern that hung near the entrance of her quarters.

"She still has an hour until her crowning, which I told her we will leave at exactly then also," Y/n says as she handed Ginny the lantern, and smiled at her irritated expression.

"What does that even mean?" the ginger replies as the sounds of her twin brothers echo from the crow's nest.

"Look at that whale Freddie! Looks like your ex-girlfriend!"

It was funny to think that half her crew was just the entire Weasley family.

"Just keep this lantern lit as you do your patrols around the deck" Y/n states as she patted the girl's shoulder and disappeared into her quarters.

As the door shut behind her, a soft groan came from her lips as she grabbed her hat from the hook on the wall.

Placing it on her head, she took a seat at her desk and began looking at the new inventory report.

Molly has requested more fruit cabbage for her kitchen, while Draco has asked for a new pair of boots. Harry needs new glasses, and Blaise needs to go to the blacksmith and sharpen his swords.

Y/n felt a headache begin to form as she tried to figure out a way to get everyone these things. This kingdom had almost everything, but she would have to dig through the old navigator's journal entries to find out where they got Harry's glasses the last time he broke them.

She needed help, and she didn't know how to ask for it without looking vulnerable in front of her crew. Y/n was only one person, and she needed someone as sophisticated as Hermione.

Granted, Y/n still planned to make Hermione hers, but that would have to wait.

Minutes went by quicker than she had realized as she scanned through the reports of everything below deck. She eventually noticed that it was ten to twelve.

"Come on Hermione" Y/n whispers as she stood up and walked back onto the deck.

"Begin preparations for departure!" Y/n yells out as a chorus of 'Ayes' rung out around her.

Ginny still stood near the walkway with the lantern in hand as she stared out into the town, which seemed devoid of life if it wasn't for the castle that was lit up like a fireworks display.

"I don't think she's coming" Y/n whispers as Ginny just hummed.

"You've always been so quick to judge" she replied as her eyes flickered towards different corners of the streets that stood in front of her.

"Ready Captain!" Percy states from his post as he stood at the stern with his hand on his pistol.

Percy always seemed to know when trouble was headed their way, it was almost like a gut instinct for him to grab his weapon.

"There she is" Ginny chuckles as she tapped Y/n's chest with the back of her hand.

Y/n's head snapped to find Hermione bolting down the street towards them, she now wore pants and a shirt instead of the beautiful white dress she had been given earlier in the day.

The Captain quickly made her way to the walkway, but soon noticed that she wasn't just running to get to them in time. Y/n heard the yelling of guards and began to smile.

"Once she's on the ship, time to go!" Y/n called as Draco took ahold of the wheel, and barked orders at the boys on the deck.

Hermione caught the Captain's eyes as she dashed down the dock towards them, and smiled at her, to which Y/n broke out in a grin in response.

"Come on Princess! We don't have all night!" Y/n teased as she held out her hand for her to take across the board between land and ship.

As soon as their hands grasped one another's, Y/n yanked her on deck and let Ron and Harry quickly pull the wood onto the ship as well.

"Full sails! Get us out of here!" Y/n yelled as the woosh of the sails fell and took in the wind of the sea.

Tens of hundreds of footsteps pounded on the dock as they pulled away, one guard had managed to jump and grab the side of the ship, but Pansy was able to just lean over and wack away his hands with the butt of her sword.

He didn't fall into the water at first, but her threat was able to make him choose his fate.

"Let go, or I'm chopping them off"

He quickly dropped into the cold unforgiving ocean.

Y/n darted towards the stern as The Morrgian began to take speed and drift off into the night.

She watched as hundreds of guards stood at the docks watching as their future queen ran off with one of the most hated pirates in the seven seas.

"I'll kill you Y/l/n!" A man yells from his place in the troops, from the crown on his head, she hadn't had to guess that he was King Granger.

"Well, that's one way to make a first impression on the crew!" Ginny snickers as she greeted Hermione on the deck.

"It would have been a lot calmer if my father hadn't caught me sneaking away" she replies as she put her back into a ponytail with a few hairpins she had left in her pockets.

"We'll have an introduction party tomorrow, right now Hermione and I need to begin setting a course for the West Indies" Y/n joked as she made her way back to the deck, Hermione stumbled slightly as the ship swayed side to side.

"Don't worry Princess, you'll get your sea legs eventually" the Captain snickers as she gestured to her quarters, and held out her hand for Hermione to take for stability.

As she took it, Blaise began to sing a chantey proudly, to which the crew joined in as well as they began their Mundane chores around the ship.

Y/n shut her door behind them, muffling the ruffians, as Hermione took in the beautiful books and maps that were scattered around.

"These are beautiful" Hermione whispers as she walked around the space with so much intrigue.

"I would hope so, since you'll be living in here" Y/n states as points to another desk that face the window that looks out into the sea behind the ship. A small bed lay next to it, almost looking untouched since its last owner as many books and papers were scattered around the space.

She could see her home fading away as they drifted away further.

"Wait, the Captain and Navigator share the same room?" Hermione asks as she turned back to find Y/n suddenly standing almost face to face with her.

"Of course, you're my right hand now" she mumbles as her eyes flickered around Hermione's face.

"If there wasn't already evidence of this cot being lived in, I would think you had done this on purpose" Hermione chuckles as Y/n brushed past her and took a seat at her desk.

"We could always push our cots together? Make this space very lived-in" Y/n suggests as Hermione stood in front of her, the only thing separating them was the desk of the captain.

"You would like that, wouldn't you?" the former royal asks as she leaned down and restart her hands upon the wood.

"Certainly, I like to have my treasures close by me" Y/n whispers as she herself leaned closer, and like earlier in the night, they stared at one another intensely.

Hermione smirked and brushed her nose against hers in a teasing manner.

"You think of me as one of your treasures?" she replies in a hushed tone as she heard a soft shudder come from the sailor.

"Yes, I've caught myself a princess after all" Y/n mutters as Hermione pecked the corner of her mouth.

She was using her tricks.

"Did you? Or did I catch myself a Captain?"

Y/n's grin found a home on her lips once more for the night, before being wiped away with a kiss from Hermione.

The captain saw stars behind her eyes that were more beautiful than the ones in the sky.

The poor Captain tried to chase after another one as she backed away with a mischievous smile.

"As fun, as it is to fool around with you, we do have work to do" Hermione states as she walked towards her new desk, her hand squeezing Y/n's shoulder as she went by.

Hermione could feel eyes burning into the back of her head as she sat down and took a book from one of the piles.

"If you want more, you have to woo me, my Captain," she says as she whispers the last part in a sultry tone.

Even though her decision to betray her country was almost just for the fact to see the world, she also knew a part of her wanted to see how a flirty Captain would treat her during their months at sea.

She knew sooner or later she would allow herself to be taken into the Captain's arms and ravished behind closed doors.

Yet, she still wanted to be treated like a proper lady, and it was going to be fun to watch an urchin like Y/n try her best at it.

Hermione could only chuckle as she heard Y/n walk out to the deck and begin asking questions about dates to her crew, having left the door open slightly.

This is going to be fun.

[illegiblehandwriting1]

27 is a big number, wow! Ok sure?

Not sure if I've mentioned this, but I've been calling Chain without Sky the "groundies" bc they...they can't...they can't get to the sky lol

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*Legend is talking about their past* Legend: I guess it was that day I came home to a cold, empty house, devoid of light and love, and I knew then that my sorrows would only grow. Wind: Legend, this is the saddest life story I have ever heard! And you haven't even covered the teen years! Twilight: Oh, I'm sure it gets better! Legend: Ha! No, at eleven, things really took a turn for the worst.

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Hyrule: Do you have any idea what you’re doing? Four: Why start now?

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Wind: *walks to cabinet, removes oreo box, takes half a sleeve, throws empty box out* Hi! Twilight: Hey- what are you doing-? Wind, shoving an oreo into their mouth: I am saving space :D

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Four: I'm having problems with a guy... Hyrule: Like his dead body won't fit into your trunk kind of problems, or you like him kind of problems?

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Legend: I regret getting dragged into your heterosexual tomfoolery.

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Shadow: Hyrule, my old friend! ch16 Hyrule: I think you tried to kill me at some point. Shadow: That was obviously just my way of getting to know you.

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Warrior: Are you the big spoon or the little spoon? Shadow: I'm a knife. Four, from across the room: They're the little spoon.

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*While planning to break in somewhere* Wild: Hey, let's do "Get Help!" Four: What? Wild: "Get Help." Four: No. Wild: C'mon, you love it! Four: I hate it. Wild: It's great! It works every time! Four: It's humiliating. Wild: Do you have a better plan? Four: No. Wild: We're doing it! Four: We are not doing "Get Help!" *A Minute Later* Wild, carrying Four: Get help! Please! They're dying! Help Them! *throws Four at guards, knocking them out* Wild: Ahh, classic! Four: *gets up* I still hate it. It's humiliating. Wild, laughing: Not for me, it's not.

(Four and Wild buddies propaganda)