#raising phoenix part 2

[mysterythief]

The god stood behind you. You didn’t need to turn to know he was there.

“This will hurt,” he whispered.

You nodded as you sat on a mat in your one room hut, gently stroking the small boy’s raven hair.

Decades had passed since you had left Phoenix’s ashes in the pasture. You had since moved cities and countries.

The boy was small enough he fit in your hands, where he had fallen asleep after you had cleaned him up and fed him. He wasn’t more than a few days old. You had helped his lone mother give birth to him by the light of your fire on your way home. She hadn’t made it. You held the boy, covered in blood and ashes. You did the only thing you could.

You brought him home.

“What will you call him?” the god questioned.

“Phoenix,” was your swift response, as the god softly put his hand on your shoulder before vanishing into the night.

***

“Up!” Phoenix demanded.

You looked down at the young boy, barely managing to toddle the length of the hut alongside you. He stared up at you expectantly in return.

“Up!...Up!” he repeated, stretching his small arms up towards you to make his request clear.

“Quite assertive, are we my little chick?” you chuckled as you bent down to pick Phoenix up. You bopped him gently on the nose with your finger as you brought him up.  Phoenix giggled, putting his small arms around your neck and gently hit your nose with his head in return.

“High?” he questioned as he pulled his face away from yours to look you in the eyes. “Up. High?” he repeated. His face full of pleading.  

“Ah, my beloved son longs to fly, does he?” you question back, a slight smile on your lips.

“High?” Phoenix requested again. Waving his arms to and fro like little sticks caught in a breeze.

You relented, lifting Phoenix high into the air as he let out a gush of laughter. You brought Phoenix down a little, placing one hand under his chest, another under his legs. Slowly, you turned him around the room, moving him higher and lower to mimic waves.

Phoenix laughed, and laughed. Gushing with joy that was contagious. You laughed and spun with him until you grew dizzy, finally pulling him in close to your heart.

“high” he murmured, a soft smile on his face, his eyes threatening to close in on him as he stubbornly fought sleep.

“You are the brightest bird in the sky. And you will rise higher than them all my Phoenix.”

***

“I’m not going to fight you!”

You heard Phoenix’s determined remark by the hut as you were walking back from the village with fresh meat from the butcher. You started to run. The hut was down the hill from where you were so you would have the advantage of gaining speed…

“Oh?! The tiny bird too afraid to pick up a wooden sword. Are you worried that you’ll get splinters?” a boy taunted back.

You stopped suddenly, recognizing the voice of T’lun. Widow Pa Lin’s son.

This was Phoenix’s fight.

As much as you hated it, you would only step in if it was necessary. The village boys already teased Phoenix for his untraditional name and being raised by a foreign father who wasn’t a soldier, like the prevalent occupation here was. If you intervened too soon, the bullying would only get worse.

“I’m not worried about splinters. Nor am I afraid of you.” Phoenix confidence carried up the hill towards you. Far more powerful than any 9-year-old should be able to muster.

You crested the hill to see T’lun and his entourage S’yin and W’tan with their backs towards you. Phoenix was facing towards you, his back to the hut, his arms spread wide. T’lun was holding a wooden sword in his hand, a second one lay untouched on the ground in front of Phoenix.

“You should be. NOW FIGHT ME!” T’lun screamed at Phoenix, who shook his head in return.

You watched, horrified, as T’lun charged Phoenix, swinging the wooden sword straight into his defenseless mid-section. Your feet were moving again before the sword connected with Phoenix stomach, the meat forgotten at the top of the hill, but you were still too far away. 

Phoenix crumpled under the blow as S’yin and W’tan laughed at his misery. T’lun moved to strike Phoenix’s head, but he rolled out of the way and the sword kicked up dust. Phoenix picked himself off of the ground while T’lun was recovering from the shock of not hitting his target.

“Not everything is about fighting and destruction T’lun. My Baba has taught me that true strength comes from rising when you fall. You can knock me down a hundred times. But I’ll get back up a hundred and one times.” Phoenix panted, still out of breath from the hit to his mid-section, but he stood his ground, his arms outstretched, as he had before.

T’lun raised his sword again, his face boiling with rage, “Why you worthless…”

You didn’t give T’lun a chance to finish. “ENOUGH!” Your shout roared through the field, causing S’yin and W’tan to run up the hill immediately. T’lun was slower to the chase. His anger clouding his judgement, until he turned and saw you. He dropped his wooden sword and turned to follow his friends back towards the village.

You turned towards your son. “Are you alright my spark?” you whispered as you pulled him in close. You felt the tears running off his face and into your shoulder as he began to weep.

“Why am I so different from the other boys Baba?” he questioned after a few minutes, pulling away from your chest to wipe his tears away. “I have the same skin tone, hair color, eye color, height, but they all love violence. And I want nothing to do with it.”

You paused, unsure of how to answer his question. After Decades - no centuries - of life on this world, you still didn’t know why people chose violence. So, you took a different approach.

“What do you want then?”

“I want to create. To build something.” Phoenix responded with such certainty you were stunned. But not too much.

After all, you had already seen that he was beginning to spread his wings.

***

“Baba?” Phoenix started as you both sat in the shade of the trees. He held a whittling knife and was working on carving a new game board.

Two years had passed since the incident with T’lun. When Phoenix had determined that he wanted to be a builder. You had given him a whittling knife and had begun to teach him how to carve. He had taken to it like a bird taking to flight. Slow at first, but after a little practice it came to him naturally.

“Will you tell me a story Baba?”

It had become your tradition. Sitting in the shade as you taught Phoenix to carve you would tell him a story. But still you waited.

“Baba?... Oh, sorry Baba. Will you please tell me a story?”

You smiled softly. It was important you teach Phoenix to remember the small things, such as manners.

“And what story should I tell you my spark?”

“Tell me about the phoenix.”

You nodded, unsurprised. You told this story at least once a month, as it was his favorite.

“Unlike other birds, which hatch once their mother has laid an egg, the phoenix is born from the blood and ash of a fire. Covered in soot the phoenix rises. It starts small, a dark little thing, with very little wings.” You begin as you hold Phoenix’s hand in your own, working through how to do a channel cut on a scrap piece of wood before he tried to implement it on the game board.

“As the phoenix grows, it’s dull color turns into a spark, before becoming the color of fire. Bringing light wherever it goes the phoenix expands its wings to protect those it loves.” You watched Phoenix execute the channel cut on his game board. His brow furrowed in concertation with each gentle stroke. 

“When the phoenix has lived life to the fullest, it burst into flames, leaving behind blood and ashes for the phoenix to rise again.” You finished as Phoenix blew the remaining scraps off, looking up at you he proudly displayed his finished board. A huge smile etched into his face.

You smiled back at him. Proud of the progress he had made.

“Why did you name me Phoenix, Baba?” he asked curiously.

“Because you had a spark in your eyes from the moment you were born” you lied.

He nodded, turning back to his board. Determination lighting up his eyes.

***

“Baba,” Phoenix complained, exasperated. “I don’t get why I need to dress up for the festival. It’s not a special occasion or anything. I’m just going to play some of the games with N’mun.”

“Trust me my little spark.” You told your 15-year-old son as you tried to comb down his raven hair, which had a propensity for sticking straight up. He sighed and rolled his eyes, but stood still for a minute before wriggling out of your grasp.

“Let’s go already! Before it gets dark.”

You shook your head before following him out the door.

The village was lit by colorful lanterns and decorations. Phoenix met up with his friend N’mun promising to meet up with you at the bonfire dance before taking off.

The hours flew by quickly and before you knew it the bonfire was being lit to begin the dancing. You went and joined N’mun’s parents, and soon enough the two boys joined you.

“Did you try one of S’lim’s new treats Baba? I had the red one and it was sooo hot I thought I was going to start breathing fire. N’mun just stood there laughing at me instead of doing something useful like getting me some water” Phoenix rattled off so fast you’re amazed that you caught any of it.

“His face was a red as a berry” N’mun laughed, while Phoenix pouted.  

“Was not.”

“Was too” N’mun gently pushed Phoenix to the side. Phoenix in return shoved him back, right into Fa Lum, who smirked at the boys and grabbed N’mun’s hand. Taking advantage of the chance to get him to dance.

“You better be out here soon Phoenix” N’mun jested as Fa Lum pulled him away.

“Yeah right” Phoenix sassed back. “And why would I want to dance with a girl?”

“Because you like her,” you replied honestly to his hypothetical question.

Phoenix jumped, startled, having forgotten that you were behind him. “Me. Like a girl?”

“It’s strange, but possible,” you retorted putting your hand on Phoenix shoulder. He was getting tall enough that you barley had to lean down to do so. “Besides don’t think I haven’t seen how you always blush around Ru Chi,” you whispered, pointing at the petit girl across from them. “You should ask her to dance.”

“But I don’t like her,” he protested.

“Sure you don’t son. Do it anyway. It’ll be fun. Besides you can’t leave N’mun all alone out there.” You pushed Phoenix in Ru Chi’s direction, waving your hand to shoo him away from you and towards her.

Phoenix glared at you, then looked in Ru Chi’s direction. She waved at him and he blushed. He started walking towards her, licking his hand to smooth down his hair before he approached her and asked her to dance. His feet shuffling back and forth as he talked to her.

You laugh softly to yourself. Boys are a little slow on the uptake that they like a girl. But you don’t mind. In fact, you wish your son could stay this young and enthusiastic a little longer.  

***

“Close your eyes Baba. I have a present for you.”

You looked up at your son skeptically. At 17 he towered above you by a few centimeters. And it was his birthday, not yours.

He laughed at your confusion. “Please Baba, let me give you this gift,” he requested.

You relented, closing your eyes. You heard shuffling as Phoenix grabbed something and then moved behind you. After a moment you felt a light weight settle on your chest.

“You can open your eyes now Baba.” Phoenix stood in front of you smiling triumphantly. You looked down at the amulet that hung around your neck.

“What’s this my bright light?” you questioned, musing the bird amulet between your fingers.

It was painted bright red and yellow. The bird had its wings spread out wide and it looked like it was surrounded by flames.

“It’s a phoenix rising from the flame, Baba. Like in the story you always told me. I wanted you to have a reminder of me. I hope you like it,” he shuffled his feet back in forth nervously while he held a smile on his face.

You felt tears of pride and joy begin to stream down you face. You pulled Phoenix in close. “It’s the most wonderful present I’ve ever received,” you said as you held your little boy a little longer.

***

War came to the village two months later.

“Baba! Baba!” Phoenix screamed through the smoke and fire that consumed the village. You had walked into town together to drop a necklace he had carved for Ru Chi and to pick up some food.

“Phoenix! I’m here Phoenix! Where are you my son?!” you screamed back, trying to find where you had lost Phoenix in the crowd. An arm grabbed your shoulder suddenly.

“Baba, we have to help. We have to do something!” Phoenix held your gaze. You recognized the determined fire that lit up his eyes. You held his gaze and nodded. “I saw some of the children running to the east. I’m going after them. Are you coming?”

“Yes, my spark. I’m with you all the way.”

You followed Phoenix as he wove in and out of the chaos that was unfolding around you. Chickens, horses, and people swarming every which direction. Uncertain of where to run.

“There Baba!” Phoenix shouted as he pointed out the small group of 5 children who were being pushed into a corner by two soldiers. Phoenix charged head-first past the soldiers stopping in front of the children he turned, facing the soldiers, stretching his arms out wide like he had all those years ago facing down T’lun. But this time it was a real fight, with real swords.

You charged the soldier closest to you, ramming into his stomach with your elbow. Throwing with enough force to knock him against the nearby wall the soldier crumpled to the ground.

You heard the children’s cries and Phoenix gasp before you could turn around.

You blindly lunged at the second guard, tackling his legs and knocking him off balance. You could see blood on the tip of his sword as you both topple to the ground. You wrestled, both of you kicking, punching, and biting until you managed to land a solid punch to his face that left him unconscious.

You stood unsteadily, making your way towards Phoenix who lay prostrate on the ground. Two of the children hovered over him, desperately trying to stop the blood flowing from his stomach. You know from the amount of blood pooling next to him that it would do nothing.

You dropped to the ground next to Phoenix and picked him up in your arms. His breath was too shallow, too short. “Hold on my son. It’ll be alright,” you cried.

“Baba,” he put his hand to your face. “Baba. Please tell me. Tell me why you named me Phoenix.”

“I named you Phoenix, because you had a spark in your eyes from the moment you were born,” you whispered, cradling his head.

Phoenix smiled and let out a raspy laugh. “I’ve lived a full life Baba.

Please.

Tell me.

Why did you name me Phoenix?” he begged.

“I named you Phoenix, because you had a spark in your eyes from the moment you were born. And because I knew you would rise from ash and blood you were born in to fly,” you sobbed.

Phoenix smiled softly, dropping his hand from your face to the phoenix amulet he had given you two months ago. “Then let’s this phoenix be a constant reminder to you Baba, of your Phoenix. Of my love and my promise. That I will rise and fly again,” he swore before taking his final breath.

Once the fighting was over you carried Phoenix to your hut and lay him on his mat. Taking a torch, you walked outside and lit your home on fire. You fiddled with your phoenix amulet while your son’s body and home burned. You didn’t leave until all that was left was ashes.

The abandoned child you’ve taken in sleeps on your lap as the god who gave you immortality softly warns you. “This will hurt.”

[mia-fey-needs-a-drink]

It's so annoying that to so much of the fandom Mia is just "boobs" or "girlboss", she's got so much more going on:

-She really struggles to remember people's names which often causes people to doubt her engagement despite genuinely caring and engaging with their situation and the case (she's just like me fr I really struggle with names (for probably autism reasons) and people really don't like that).

-She has a tendency to just not talk to people about things, especially about herself or her life. depending on when you think Mia actually started mentoring Phoenix he was a significant part of her life for at least a year and probably since 3-1, yet he only meets Maya and learns about spirit channeling after Mia dies, she never mentioned Lana either, or Diego, or DL-6, and this isn't just to Phoenix, she never told Maya about Diego either and it's vague how much Lana actually knows about her, hell it's vague how much Diego actually knew about her, maybe Grossberg only told him about DL6 and the Fey clan after he wakes up from his coma. Ultimately she isolated herself from everyone in her life to some extent and it's kinda part of how she died, no-one knew the danger she was in and she didn't want people to know.

-Her ineptitude with technology. Phoenix and Maya also have this, but I feel like Mia's and Maya's are so linked to their background in the fey clan, they were raised in a society and culture where they didn't have access to these things and integrating into broader society comes with difficulties.

-Her entire life and career is just things repeatedly going wrong and her being fucked over: DL-6, her disaster of a first trial, Diego being poisoned and just as she's about to try and finally put Redd White behind bars he finds out and kills her. She had shit hand after shit hand and was basically doomed from the start, but yet she persisted and she fought for what she believed and for the people she cared about and to make the world a better place, and everything good that Phoenix manages to do throughout PWT is thanks to Mia and everything she worked for, she laid the foundations for a better world for the ones she loved that she wouldn't get to live in and yet I think if she knew that it would all end this way from the start she'd do it all over again. I think a little part of me thinks that some part of her hoped White would kill her so there was something definitive to pin him with (which comes with some darker implications for how well she was dealing with life).

-Mia has such an interesting relationship to the legal system and her own sense of justice. So much of her experience with the law is with it failing her, repeatedly. DL-6 is a disaster that stripped her mother from her, her first trial ends in the clearly guilty party that murdered her client getting away with it, her boyfriend's murder goes unsolved from the same murderer who she dedicates the next 8 months to taking down, and then there's 1-2, her own murder trial. Mia has again worked for years to try and get this man convicted, the deeply corrupt legal system making it a near insurmountable task, then in the last stretch he murders her. The police immediately just try to brush it under the rug, blame her sister and get the trial over with. Grossberg is too afraid of White to defend Maya and Edgeworth is a slimy piece of shit the entire trial. When Phoenix finally finds the clearly guilty White, he simply makes a few calls and her understudy is the prime suspect. White goes up on the stand and just repeatedly comes up with any old blatant nonsense and excuses and no matter how many times and how much work goes into Wright picking apart every mistruth and detail and how many pieces of evidence he shows nothing will convict White, the court is completely corrupt, you'll never be able to defeat him within the system. So, what happens? Mia and Phoenix have to work outside the established rules, even working outside the rules of death itself. White is only defeated after Mia straight up blackmails him into confessing, and yet this is more justice than working within the law ever would allow them. Mia also only gets Dahlia through pushing the law to it's breaking point, she was a step away from being disbarred. I feel like it's easy to see her as a strong believer in the law but if you really look at it, to her, the law is not sacred or worthy of much reverence, if something is unjust, to hell if it's legal, she will try and reach justice no matter what.

-Look I may be projecting my woke onto the game a little bit but I can't help but feel the routine misogyny Mia faces in both the cases we play as her in T&T is more than just "a product of it's time" and more showing misogyny as an extension of the system being rigged against her.

Loooong post but there's so much going on with Mia.

[littlemissrbf]

Summer Lovin’ (pt. 2)

Robert "Bob" Floyd x fem!Reader

(No use of y/n, reader is a SoCal native & Bob is from Montana, language, reader has an annoying but loving uncle, Jake "Hangman" Seresin is a jackass, & Natasha "Phoenix" Trace is amazing and I love her, the Mickey-Rooster-Reuben department of shits and giggles is my new favorite thing)

Part 1, Part 2 [Word Count: 2.6k]

Until now, you’d only seen Lt. Robert Floyd from across the room, sitting or standing to the side with his shoulders pulled inwards like he was worried about taking up too much space. The distance between the two of you only made him look smaller, more like a “little nerd” according to your uncle.

But now that you have him all up close and personal, you realize just how big this man actually is. He's at least six feet tall with broad shoulders which only seem to add to his height. He practically towers over you, and when he stands too close you have to tilt your head back just to meet his eyes.

You realize you fucked up as he began to set up the pool balls into a diamond shape. You had asked him to play 9-ball but you've only ever played 8-ball, where the balls are set up in a triangle and you have to pocket all the stripes or solids before you go for the 8-ball. You couldn't even last 5 minutes without making a complete fool of yourself.

"You wanna break?" he asked, holding out the cue ball.

You laid your cue stick to rest against the table before making your way over to him, you took the ball from him and laughed at yourself before he could,

"I'm sorry I meant to say 8-ball instead of 9, but I got them mixed up in my head. I actually have no idea how to play 9-ball."

But he didn't laugh at you. He just smiled, grabbed the rack from another table, and started pulling six more balls from the pockets to rearrange them into a triangle.

"I'm really sorry about that, I should've said something before you'd finished setting up." you looked down and began to roll the cue ball in your hands.

He paused from lining up the rack with the foot of the table to look up at you, "It's okay, I don't mind."

When you still didn't look at him he made his way over to you, leaning down to get you to meet his eyes,

"Hey, it's alright. I figured I could show you how to play 9-ball after our bet." then he added "As long as you're okay with that."

You couldn't help but grin. "Yeah, that sounds good. But only after you've bought me a drink 'cause I'm about to destroy you."

"Oh someone's feeling confident all of a sudden." he smirked at you.

You smiled as you rolled your eyes at him.

"I'm still breaking," you said as you grabbed your cue stick and placed the ball on the table.

The two of you probably spent more time chatting than actually playing pool. The initial trash talk quickly blended into full-blown conversations that ended up with both of you forgetting whose turn it was (you ended up using rock-paper-scissors to decide who would go). At one point, you got so distracted that you forgot you were solids, accidentally sinking one of Bob's stripes into a pocket.

"You from around here?" he asked before taking a shot, the cue ball hitting a red one with a satisfying click, it rolled towards a corner pocket but bounced off the rails.

"No, I'm actually from OC," you said looking for an easy shot.

"OC?" he tilted his head.

"Orange County," you lined up for a pocket shot, "I live in Anaheim, it's about a two-hour drive from here." You hit the cue ball and watched as it rolled straight past your target and into the pocket. You sighed and lightly slapped your forehead, this was probably the fifth time you'd scratched. "What about you?" you asked as he reached into the pocket and pulled out the cue ball.

"I'm born and raised in Montana, my family owns a cattle ranch in Whitehall." he placed the ball on the table and leaned over to take a shot.

"Robbie, are you telling me that you're a cowboy?"

"No ma'am," he chuckled and shook his head, "Sorry to disappoint, but I'm just a Weapons System Officer."

"Yeah I have no idea what that means, you mind explaining?"

It's like you just triggered a sleeper agent, Bob immediately stood up, completely forgetting about his shot, and started to explain every last detail about what he did as a WSO. He talked with his hands and the pitch of his voice raised when he got excited.

"So, the pilot flies and you shoot, but you're also like the pilot's second set of eyes and ears?" you asked.

"Yep that's pretty much it," he nodded.

"That sounds... intense." You couldn't imagine being in charge of all of that, not to mention being responsible for someone else's life. "Have you always wanted to do something like this?"

"Well, my mom says I always really liked planes and jets." He made his way back to the table and lined up for one of the side pockets, "When I was a kid I told her 'One day, I'm gonna fly one of those things' and I figured the Navy was the best way to do that." He took the shot and the target ball rolled straight into the side pocket.

"It's really impressive." You started, he just shrugged and smiled to himself, he's too humble. "So is this your first time in Cali?"

"Actually, I was stationed in Lemoore for a bit before I got transferred here."

"San Joaquin Valley area?" That area is mostly farmland, so you can't help but ask, "Is it true that it smells like shit all the time?"

He smiled, "You get used to it."

He took another shot and sunk the ball into a corner pocket.

"You're pretty good at this," you said looking down at the table. He only had one ball left and you had five, at this rate you should just go buy his drink already.

A quiet "Thank you" slipped out as he leaned down over the table and lined up to knock his last ball into a corner pocket. He paused for a second, then hit the cue. He scratched.

He just looked at you and shrugged, trying to hide a small grin.

You raised an eyebrow at him, "Lt. Robert Floyd, are you letting me win to make me like you more?" You asked, hand on your hip.

You expected him to look down or maybe blush, instead, he held your gaze and tilted his head. That stupid grin showing up again,

"Is it working?"

Now you were the one blushing.

"Maybe." You said, brushing past him to grab the cue ball from the pocket.

This went on for a bit, you miss your shot and then Bob misses his (but on purpose), the cycle continued until some of his fellow pilots made their way back towards the pool tables, putting a pause on your game. It was a woman you recognized from earlier, two men who always seemed to trail behind her, and Mr. Mustache aka Rooster. Bob introduced you, and you shake their hands and learn that Natasha, Reuben, and Rooster are all F/A-18 pilots and Mickey is Reuben's WSO. You ask Natasha if Bob is a good back-seater and she laughs,

"I sure hope so, I haven't gotten the chance to fly with him yet. Most of us just got in today."

"Ooo something important about to happen?" You asked

"Well, I'd tell you if I knew." She smiled, and holy shit she's pretty, actually forget pretty, Natasha Trace is drop-dead gorgeous. Maybe the Navy is only taking hot pilots or something?

As if to prove your point, Rooster, who is tall and ridiculously good-looking, decided to make his way into the conversation,

"Nah you wouldn't, 'c'mon we all know you're a goody two shoes." Rooster pipes up and without missing a beat, she reaches up and slaps him up the back of his head.

"Don't mind him, he's an idiot," she says, "So what brings you around here? Family? Maybe a boyfriend?"

"No, no boyfriend," you say, trying not to look at Bob, but you can see Mickey out of the corner of your eye nudging him with his elbow. "I'm here with my uncle, he just retired from the Navy, today actually."

"Oh good for him, you guys here to celebrate?"

"Well he's definitely here to celebrate, I'm sure he just brought me along to be his designated drive-home." It was a good cover story, there is no fucking way you are about to tell these people that you were brought here to find yourself a husband.

"That's sweet," she starts "I love your dress, by the way, does it have pockets?"

You reach down and fluff out the skirt a little, "Thank you so much! I wish it had pockets, then it would be perfect."

You got to know the group better after just minutes of chatting apparently Natasha and Rooster go way back, Mickey is a chatterbox once he starts talking and won't shut up unless he's either eating or asleep, and Reuben's had his (albeit less dramatic than Rooster's) mustache since high school.

While listening to Rooster, Reuben, and Mickey get into it about whether or not pineapple belongs on pizza. You subconsciously start drifting towards Bob, who is standing off to the side and silently observing the heated debate. Once you were side to side you gently bumped him with your shoulder, and he smiled before leaning over to whisper,

"I think it's your turn."

He was so close now and you could feel his breath against your neck, your heart decided to skip a beat and you figured if you didn't move soon this man was gonna give you a heart attack. So you quickly shuffled closer to the table and you locked eyes with Natasha, who saw the whole interaction, she gave you a knowing smirk and you felt the flush spreading further up your cheeks. You look down and try to focus on your next shot, but before you can pick which ball to go for you hear a new voice coming from the bar.

"Would you look at that, 'Baby on Board' actually has some game."

The man standing across from you is tall and blonde, he's got a set of perfect teeth that he flashes with a shit-eating grin, you notice the way Natasha looks at him as if she's fantasizing about punching him in the face or setting him on fire, or maybe both.

"Excuse me?" You tried to sound as polite as possible.

"You know B-O-B, 'Baby on Board'. I'm starting to think that's what his callsign actually stands for"

"Bob is just his nickname," you started, "It's short for Robert."

"No sweetheart, see 'callsigns' are what we fighter pilots use for communication and identification." he explained.

"So like a nickname." you replied with a flat tone.

You can hear Rooster and Mickey snickering, Natasha is still standing with her arms crossed but at least now she's smirking.

You decided to press your luck, thinking maybe if you annoyed him enough, Mr. Pearly Whites would just go away.

"What's your nickname?" you quickly corrected yourself "I mean, what's your callsign?"

More laughter came from the Mickey-Rooster-Reuben department but Mr. Pearly Whites just stood there and grinned.

"I'm Hangman, this here is Coyote." he nodded to the man next to him.

"Hangman?" You asked, you saw a slight crack in his smile and decided to go in for the kill.

"Do you just really like kid's word puzzles or something?"

At this, the Mickey-Rooster-Reuben department fucking lost it, cackling as they leaned on each other for support, Natasha was laughing too but at least she was still standing up on her own.

To your disappointment, Hangman just kept on smiling.

"At least someone's got a sense of humor, isn't that right Bob."

When you turned to glance at Bob, his mouth was pressed in a thin line, he nodded politely but his shoulders were hunched inwards again.

"Listen, it was great to meet you Hangman, and you too Coyote, but if you don't mind I'm gonna go back to playing 8-ball." you said turning back towards the table.

Before you could register it, you felt the pool cue being snatched from your hands and suddenly Hangman was in your place, shooting the cue ball perfectly to sink a ball into a corner pocket.

"I'm really good at this kind of stuff so let me give you some pointers," He started.

"No thank you." You reply immediately, but still polite.

"Aww c'mon I'm just trying to be nice, besides, it looks like you could use the help." He pressed on.

Before you can repeat yourself, Bob made his way around the table and he stood right next to Hangman, bringing his hand down onto his shoulder with a bit more force than necessary.

"You having some trouble with your hearing, Hangman?" He asks.

"Pardon?"

"I guess you are because I just heard her say 'No thank you' loud and clear. Maybe you oughta get your ears checked." He said, smiling sweetly, feigning concern.

Oh shit, he's hot.

Now Rooster got in on the action, "Nah, with that level of hearing loss I say we just let him get discharged."

"It's a shame, I was really looking forward to working with you, Bagman." Natasha chimed in.

And Hangman, the smooth son of a bitch just chuckled and patted Bob on the back, "Looks like we're all a bunch of comedians now." And he turned to you.

He held out the pool cue but when you took it in your hand, he held on, looking straight into your eyes.

"I apologize," he said with his other hand on his chest, it almost sounded genuine. "You have a good night, sweetheart." He flashed his pearly whites again, still holding on.

"Thank you." You replied, not breaking his gaze, not backing down.

He nodded and finally let go, making his way towards the dartboard on the other side of the bar. Before following him, Coyote nodded to you saying "Take care." You nodded back and said, "Thank you, you too."

The second the two men were out of earshot you whipped around to the group, "Oh my god, how do you guys put up with that?!"

Natasha lets out a groan, "He's the worst."

"Tell me about it." Rooster said leaning against a wall.

"You guys deserve a fucking medal of honor or something, I mean he is just such a..." You trailed off while trying to fish out the ball that he sunk.

"Jackass?"

"Dipshit?"

"Asshole?"

You placed the ball down on the table with a thud, "Yes, yes, and yes."

You made your way to Bob and placed your hand on his arm,

"Thank you for sticking up for me, I really appreciate it."

"You're welcome." Is all he gets out, looking down to where your palm rests on his arm, smiling softly.

When you pull your hand away, you barely see the way he leans towards it, as if his body is trying to chase your touch.

Natasha grabs the boys and makes a half-assed excuse about going for another round of drinks, winking at you as she gives you and Bob some privacy. No surprise, Natasha Trace is a solid wingman.

You let out a small laugh, "So, where were we?"

"I think you're about to win."

"Ha ha very funny," you said, aiming for one of your remaining balls. You took the shot and missed with flying colors. "Alright, Robbie go ahead." You said with a defeated sigh.

He sunk his last striped ball then picked a corner pocket for the 8-ball. He lined up his shot, looked at you, and hit the cue ball. It knocked the 8-ball into its pocket before rolling straight across the table and into the other pocket. Scratch on the 8-ball, he lost.

He turned to you and grinned.

"Oops."

Divider by @bernardsbendystraws

(Author's Note: Thank you for reading! Part 3 is in the works. This is still my first ever fic so let me know if you have any writing tips or suggestions!)

[b14augrana]

Ad Astra Per Aspera

Nothing gold can stay

Alexia Putellas x teen!reader

pt. 3 masterlist

Warnings: this story contains depictions of alcoholism, adultery, and familial issues. read at your own discretion. this chapter in specific discusses themes of abuse and alcoholism.

A/N: the long awaited part 2 to ‘ad astra per aspera’! this took a lot of thinking and scrapped passages to really get this on point, i hope you enjoy 🫶🏼

"You’re early today!”

You smiled halfheartedly at Magdalene and Dani’s teacher, nodding at her. “Yeah, uh, I’ve gotta get to work a bit earlier today so…”

“Not a problem, I’ll see you later,” the woman responded. You gave Magdalene and Dani one last hug before returning to your car, having hope that you’d finally be early to training for once and go the day without being berated by Alexia.

You didn’t want to relive the other night’s training, not in your mind, and definitely not in person. With you, Alexia was a completely different person to the patron saint of Barça that everyone painted her as. You wanted to change that and show her you weren’t as irresponsible and careless as she thought you out to be, but you couldn’t.

It was a relief to see the training pitch parking lot barely populated as it came into sight. There was maybe two cars, which meant you were on time. How incredible.

Before every training, a hopeful feeling swelled inside of you — one of happiness, because you saw football as a means of enjoyment and something to look forward to when all else came crashing down in your life. It was short lived of course, but like a phoenix, it always came back one way or another. Were you wrong for believing in your sport to help you?

"(Y/N), you're early.. for once."

You knew that voice all too well. There was a surprised tone that Alexia's voice held as she spoke, and you knew she expected you to show up late once again if not miss practice completely.

"Yeah, surprise," you replied dully, sitting down on the bench to put your boots on.

"Why are you early?" she asked, and it was a bit of a stupid question.

'Well, after you yelled at me in front of everybody the other day, I decided that if I have to drop all three of my siblings off to school, I might as well do it as early as possible so I don't have to worry about getting screamed at and humiliated at half past nine in the morning!'

"Dropped my siblings off earlier today," you mumbled instead, eyes fixated on the ground as you spoke. You were sure that eventually, your fear would be the one to corrupt your family completely, but you couldn't tell Alexia; it was equivalent to opening yourself up to her, being vulnerable even after trying so hard to maintain a tough front.

She glanced at you, her eyebrow just barely raised but her mouth idle. You cinched your laces tightly and sprung to your feet, very aware of her gaze fixed on you as you grabbed a ball from the bag and dribbled it over to the nearest wall, preparing for the training session ahead.

More of the team started to file through the pitch gates. You could hear their bags dropping to the ground as you passed against the wall, and as Mapi passed behind you she squeezed your shoulder. “I’m glad to see you, (Y/N),” she said, a smile on her face.

For once, as training started, you didn’t feel dreadful. You were excited and motivated by the good start to the morning, which showed in the newfound pep in your step and enthusiasm around the pitch.

After a long while, the sun began to set, which indicated the end of training. You sat down at the bench, unlacing your boots and trading them for sandals. Unexpectedly, Alexia sat down beside you, saying, “Good job today. You did well.”

“Graciés,” you responded, standing up while slinging your bag over your shoulder, “See you tomorrow.”

She watched you leave through the gates, her eyes unwavering on your figure disappearing around the corner.

You lived next to a lovely elderly lady named Margalida. She was a sweet woman, always saying bon día and bona tarda to you and your siblings whenever she saw you. Sometimes, after you returned from training and picked up your siblings, she invited you four into her home to share pastries with her. You always accepted, of course, because it was much better than subjecting yourself to the olfactory assault that was your home, and she was also a widow that you figured needed some company from time to time.

When you weren't home, you couldn't monitor your mother's behaviour; praying that it would stay somewhat normal would have to suffice. You didn’t know whether Margalida knew about the true nature of your household or if she thought you were all naturally raucous.

You pulled into the driveway, parking the car as the doors opened and your siblings got out of the car. “(Y/N),” Magdalene said slowly, imploring you to look at her curiously. “Who are those people?” she pointed ahead, and that’s when you noticed Margalida at your doorstep, alongside two police officers and another woman. She looked like a regular office worker, but you weren’t an idiot; she was obviously a social worker, which could only mean one thing. A bad thing.

"You three stay in the car for a bit, okay? I'm gonna go talk to these people," you said to your siblings, motioning to the car as you turned around again and walked towards the people.

You felt nothing but dread in your gut as you approached them. One of the cops, who was talking to a distressed looking Margalida, looked at you and began to speak. "Miss (Y/L/N)?"

You nodded slowly, "Before we talk, can I just send my siblings inside?"

"That won't be possible," the officer said, making you raise an eyebrow, "...Because we're here regarding a call about a person inside, which we now know isn't you."

"I heard yelling from inside," Margalida added. "It was loud, and– and it sounded like there was crashing, from things being thrown around."

She took a deep breath, looking at you sympathetically. "I thought one of you was being hurt, so I called the police."

"I know your situation with the..." she paused, gesturing to the rubbish bin. You spun around, your eyes widening at the sight of it. Cans and bottles galore filled the bin to the brim, threatening to spill out. You could count at least ten, and that was only at the surface of the deep bin. You could recall the rubbish being collected just a few days ago, and now it was basically full.

She looked at you, her eyes pitiful. You hated it, so much; pity made you feel like a kid, and it angered you that the only time you got to relive any sort of childishness was when someone noticed you were suffering, not because you actually had the liberty to behave like one again. Where was the pity when you actually were a kid, having to wake up and stay afloat to support three other kids?

"Who else lives here, other than you and your — I'm assuming — siblings?" the other cop asked.

"My mother. My dad left a few years ago," you mumbled, looking at the ground.

"Is she home right now?" he asked, and you nodded. "Yeah. She's probably asleep, so if you did knock on the door, that's why nobody opened it."

"Asleep or blacked out?" his partner suddenly added. You looked at him, clenching your jaw as you shrugged. "How am I supposed to know? I've been at work all day."

"What do you do for work?"

"I'm a footballer."

"For FC Barcelona?"

"Buy a ticket and maybe you'll find out."

You ended up sitting across from the two officers and the social worker in a dingy, dark room scarcely furnished with only a table, three chairs and a dirty window to accessorise it. This time, the woman did most of the talking while the cops just surveyed the conversation. Magdalene, Dani and Lorenzo were sitting in the waiting room of the station — you didn't want to drag them along, but you didn't have much of a choice.

"Can you tell us a little bit about your family history that might correspond with the things reported to us today?" she asked, leaning across the table.

"My dad left when I was, I think.. 13. Cheated on my mum and left us all for another woman. My mum, uh, got out of control. She didn't take it well," you replied, not looking up once as your gaze was fixed on the chestnut-stained, chipped table.

"I see. Well, from the contents of the rubbish bin, I presume her coping had something to do with alcohol," the woman said. As if her apathy hadn't been obvious from the start, it was dripping off her every word and showing her true intents; not to help you, but to get this over and done with and throw your siblings into foster care, then consider her job done and get paid for it.

You nodded at her claim nonetheless, picking at the paint of the table. "Yeah."

"Have you or your siblings ever been subject to abuse, from either of your parents?" she continued

"No no, absolutely not, they never hit–"

"I'm not just talking about physical abuse, (Y/N)," she interrupted. It was the first time of the entire questioning you had looked up as you met her gaze, your eyes saying more than your mouth ever could.

"It was just a few arguments,” you responded coldly.

“When we asked Margalida, your neighbour, about if there’s been any incidents like this, she said there has been. Yelling, screaming, and lots of it,” the woman told you. “How many arguments are you considering a few, (Y/N)?”

The table shook from the impact of your hand slamming it sharply as you shot to your feet. "If you consider a couple arguments to be verbal abuse, go ahead. My mum is hurt and angry, very angry about her husband leaving her, so yeah, she drinks and we argue about it!"

"Listen, please sit down. I understand that you and your siblings are troubled children but–"

"I hate being a– I hate that term, 'troubled kid', you know? We aren't troubled! If we were troubled, wouldn't we be dead? Wouldn't we be troubled by an inability to continue living in these conditions, these... ruins?"

Silence. You sat down once again, your head in your hands.

"Do you have another location you can stay at?" she asked you. You shook your head, the feeling of dread burying itself deeper in your gut.

"Unfortunately, we will have to place your siblings in foster care. The living conditions are unsafe and unstable for kids their age to be living in," the social worker finished.

You wanted to burst into tears. You wanted to sob and sob and sob, harder than you ever have, but the tears wouldn't summon.

"There is another option," she spoke slowly, making you immediately look up from the darkness your palms shrouded you in.

"...we contact your father and see if he wants to look after them."

It sounded just as bad as placing them into foster care. Now, you wanted to scream in her face and call her utterly stupid for assuming that a man who abandoned his kids would want to take care of them years later to keep them out of the foster system. Why on God's green earth would he want to reap the consequences of his infidelity?

"Are you hard of hearing?" you scoffed. "Yeah, so, I said earlier that he left us years ago for another woman, you know, to make another family. He didn't want us."

"He's the only other option at the moment. Unless your mother can be moved to a rehabilitation center in sufficient enough time, and you become their legal guardians, they will end up with foster families. Possibly not even the same one."

The news weighed on you like bricks. It was all so much, you couldn't think straight and contemplate possible outcomes and solutions. You put your elbows on your table and held your head in your hands once again, taking a deep breath.

"Can I at least find someone myself who's willing to foster? Someone I know?" you asked, your tone being nothing short of desperate.

She took a moment to respond, and it was probably the most nerve-wracking few seconds of your life, until the ultimatum was spoken.

"I suppose, yes. That is basically the whole principle of fostering, so I see no issue. Until then, they will be placed in a temporary home before we start looking for a permanent family. A pair of officers have gone to detain your mother and we'll review the information from this questioning to determine whether she should be charged or put straight into a rehabilitation program."

"Thank you," you almost cried, your body relaxing from the little bit of relief and reassurance you had just received. There was still a possibility that you could get your siblings back.

The problem standing in your way now was, you didn't know anyone willing to foster. You had no idea who you'd turn to, and it actually made you realise that you were pretty alone in this whole ordeal, and life in general. You really did have nobody but yourself, and clearly there came a time where that wouldn't be enough.

"Magda, Dani, Enzo, come on. We're going now," you said as the door of the interrogation room swung open. You beckoned at the kids, who stood up and ran to you, following you out of the door.

You didn't want to go home yet, just in case the officers were still there and you'd arrive to the horrible scene of your drunkard mother getting dragged of her own house by the authorities, so you drove to the training pitch. You were in search of one person in particular, and hoping to avoid another one.

Parking the car in the same spot you had parked in the same morning, you quickly got out of the car and ushered the kids onto the pitch to play for a little bit while you went into the gym.

As soon as you walked through the automatic glass doors, the person you were searching for was stretching on a yoga mat, her resistance bands discarded above her head.

She sat up, looking at you with a mixture of surprise, confusion and concern, probably achieved from your sorrowful expression.

"Vicky, I need your help. Now."

[zkg2318]

Blood on Fire ~ pt. 3 | PJS

A/N: this is part 3 of the BOF series, please read part 1 for the story to make sense as these are heavily driven by plot. Also, i apologize if the smut is a bit too vanilla for your liking, but i tried to add a bit of uniqueness to it. as compensation, i wrote a slight aftercare scene (and i almost never do that cuz im bad at writing it) have fun reading. also, sorry for the ending lol

genre/tags for this part ✶ MDNI reverse harem!hyung line x afab!reader, angst, smut, gore and violence, supernatural themes, (sirens, werewolves, vampires, shapeshifters, phoenixes, frost elves, dragons, witches, and more…), major character death (don't worry), blood, verbal and physical violence, lots of murder, manipulation, lots of death, panic attacks, government themes (not political), fight club au, ot7

synopsis ✶ In a city where the supernatural are arrested on sight, the only refuge for their pent-up rage is “The Enha Arena”- an exclusive, hidden venue where creatures engage in brutal, blood-soaked battles with one another. Concealed beneath the unassuming exterior of “Dusk and Dawn,” a gym that serves as the front of a totally legal business, this underground fight club acts as the epicenter for this violent world where supernatural beings not only fight for dominance and pride but for the sheer thrill of it all. In dire need of some money, you find yourself drawn into the fight club when you come across a black market job posting- an offer for a new trainer at the gym. Desperate for new ways to keep your own abilities under wraps and even learn about other supernatural beings, you accept the position, completely unaware of the dangers and complicated relationships that await you

WC ✶ 12.7

part 2

smut warnings under the cut

smut warnings ✶ monster erotica (obviously), unprotected sex, very brief dom!reader, grinding, slight overstimulation, fluffy aftercare, emotional sex

In the darkness of Luxta’s hidden underbelly, K slaves away for the black market, The Veil in particular, scraping by on a barely livable wage. Desperation has become his best friend now; daring him to escape these circumstances, no matter what. He moves through the outskirts of Luxta with an agonizing slowness, the years worth of working evident in his gait.

Raised like most of the supernatural around here- alone without the guidance of a parental figure, K has brought it upon himself to pay his dues by giving back to the supernatural youth- children who have yet to be sold in the black market or older adolescents who were lucky enough to live in The Veil’s residences.He spends his nights navigating the narrow alleyways located on the outskirts of Luxta that have slowly become the habitat to these ‘monsters’, a notepad in hand as he records statistics and hands out supplies. 

In the beginning, it fulfilled K, knowing he was giving these kids some sort of temporary comfort during the hardest part of their lives. But at some point in time, that comfort dissipated and turned into burn out. Seeing their faces every night, many much too young to be carrying the burden of survival, was just too much for him. But there wasn’t an easy out for K, the supernatural didn’t exactly have access to everyday jobs like humans did. Many had to rely on underground jobs like dealing drugs and committing illegal acts. 

It’s storming now, and the only protection there is are the tents that The Veil has graciously put out for children to commune under. The harsh rain pounds against the makeshift shelters, deafening the murmurs of the children underneath them. K walks around with a sheet of paper in his hand, greeting several children of various ages huddling together for warmth, creating a list of their abilities and what they are. He blinks away the rain infiltrating his vision as he watches some of the children ignite small flames from their palms, a small attempt at experimenting with their powers in order to offer a subtle warmth for others around them to share. Other children aren’t as lucky, shivering as the harsh wind hits their bones. 

As K moves through this particular camp, he spots a figure moving in the distance- his face obscured by the hood of his cloak. A small boy, who stands in front of K, is quickly moved behind him as he straightens his posture to hide him from the strange man’s view. “Don’t you think the sky’s a bit dark for you to be out this late?” K asks, suspicion creeping away in his voice. 

“It glimmers or some shit,” the man grumbles as he shoves a wet envelope into K’s hand. His tone is dismissive and groggy as he continues to speak, “If you want to get out of this shit show, follow the instructions of this envelope.” 

Before K can say anything, the mysterious man turns on his heel and disappears into the shadow. But his eyes catch onto a glint of metal that shines under the moonlight that’s tucked under his cloak, almost completely obscured if not for the bulk of the item being so big. With furrowed eyebrows, K realizes what it was that caught the moonlight’s glint- a government scanner. 

⠈⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁

When K had come to Yuqi the other day after a long winded workout, she hadn’t expected him to say much, let alone reveal something so rattling. His presence never failed to make her unsteady, no matter how much she told herself she trusts him. There was just something in his aura that left the serpent hybrid on edge. Yuqi had expected to be the last person K chose to confide in, memories of her venom searing into his face burned her vision like bright flashes. Yet he was still there, standing before her with something dark in his eyes. 

“Yuqi, there’s something I need to tell you.” There was sweat decorating his hairline as he addressed Yuqi, seriousness hanging in the air based on how he kept his head hung low. 

Yuqi turned to him with an unsuspecting gaze that masked the unease settling in her stomach, “Is everything okay?” 

K seemed to grimace before her and swallowed a growing lump in his throat before speaking, “Not really, no.” He shoved his hands deep into his pockets. “I know my character may not be the most likable, especially after I let things get out of control when I sparred with Heeseung, but I’m hoping you’ll hear me out with honesty.”

“I’m listening.”

K hesitated, unlike him to waver in what it was he wanted to say. “The other day, I overheard Y/n on the phone. Something was off. I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop, especially because she sounded so distressed- but I heard enough. She spoke about the enforcement division and I learned from there that it was her idea to send the officers in to inspect the building.”

Yuqi’s stomach twisted at K’s reveal. “What are you saying, K?”

“I dropped something by accident, out of surprise. She noticed my presence and hung up her phone immediately. Y/n came straight over to me and told me that if I ever tried revealing what she said, she’d spin it back on me.” 

Yuqi’s mind raced a mile a minute, she wasn’t sure what to believe. Y/n? The same Y/n that was slowly making her way into their fractured community? The same Y/n that spent her vulnerable time cleaning up the team’s wounds after matches, or the same Y/n that held them in her arms when they let their defenses down. That didn’t seem like you. But no matter what Yuqi thought about you, anxiety burned in her chest. 

“Do you know how absurd you sound?”

“Yes…” he said with a strained sigh, “But you know I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t sure of it myself. I was shocked to see firsthand the kind of lengths she’d go to in order for the gym to shut down. She mentioned during one of our conversations that as a phoenix, she wished for the people of Luxta to see the supernatural in a better light. I think exposing the gym was her way of doing that, at least the first step of it.” There’s a tense look of pity on K’s face as he recounts his observations to Yuqi. Despite what he showed on the outside, K  was brimming with excitement and he was lucky that Yuqi’s hearing wasn't good enough to hear the loud pounding of his heart. “For now, I think we should just keep an eye on her.” 

Yuqi’s breath caught in her throat and she kissed the inside of her teeth. “I’ll keep it in mind.” She said with strained tension, but the words felt like lead on her tongue, a poison that was inching its way down her throat like the revelation of your possible betrayal. K nodded and then proceeded to place a comforting hand on Yuqi’s shoulder in a forced reassurance, but she brushed it away. He took that as his cue to leave and gave her a parting glance before disappearing. 

In his absence, Yuqi’s throat felt tight. She couldn’t find it within herself to believe his words. She had watched you from afar, observed you slowly get closer and closer to the boys, with Minnie. The idea of you going behind their backs to betray them crushed her like a vice, like her own serpent tail was constricting her organs from inside. 

Then came the night you approached Yuqi, and Yuqi felt her heart drop a million feet. Your story was so carefully constructed to shift the blame onto K that it almost seemed believable. But his accusation echoed like a drumbeat in her head as she listened to your quivering confession. 

Yuqi wanted to believe, God did she want to trust you. But the weight of her responsibilities overshadowed that benefit of doubt she would have given you had K not come to her first. She was more worried about the safety of her gym and the boys to pay any mind to you as a person. So in a moment of haste, she fired you- and the boys followed. They said hurtful things to your face and Yuqi could see their every word break you down just a little bit more. 

You lost your friends, your job, the family you built with them all within a matter of seconds. She told herself it was for the greater good, but the look on your face was too much; it took everything in her to go through with your dismissal. The last she saw of you was when she forced herself to look away from you and leave the area after firing you. It tore her apart on the inside to see such a shattered looking face on you while also knowing you had the audacity to betray them all. Yuqi wasn’t sure she deserved her own forgiveness- whether it be for letting a traitor into the gym, or for fooling herself into what she thought was a lifelong friendship with you. 

Jungwon, on the other hand, laid awake for days following your departure. He had already had some suspicions regarding K’s integrity, ever since he lost control on Heeseung, he’s remained wary around the older man. Seeing the way K acted after you officially left solidified that little doubt in his mind. He saw first hand how quickly K filled your void. He started to approach Jungwon in an effort to gain his trust, but Jungwon saw through it all. He saw through the forced smiles and practiced words like it was a poorly executed performance.  The cracks in K’s facade were only getting bigger with each interaction Jungwon had with him. 

And it wasn’t just Jungwon that had been approached, but all the others. K’s efforts to get closer- even closer than he was before, increased by tenfold. None of them noticed though, too busy dragging their feet in the ghost of your absence. Jungwon didn’t say anything, but he knew he should. 

He needed to see you. 

After a painful week of sleepless nights and self-doubt, Jungwon decided tonight was the night to confront you, to check in with you. So he gave the maknaes a brief goodbye and waved to his hyung’s before leaving the gym in a hurry. The usual fifteen minute walk to your new apartment felt like an eternity, and the weight of his duffel bag and the burden he carried with him didn’t help. Jungwon wasn’t sure of what it was that he wanted to get out of seeing you, but he was void of any expectations because he knew from a long time ago what a mistake it was to have hope. And the cold wind biting at his red-tinted cheeks only reminded him of that dark resolve. It was colder than usual. 

Given the early hour of the day, the streets Jungwon walks along are eerily silent, quiet enough he could hear a pin drop. Jungwon thrived in silence, but this one felt impending. 

When he turns the corner and comes face to face with the brick material of your building, Jungwon straightens himself. What would he say? Should he apologize? He realizes now that he really should’ve planned this better, but before he can even ascend up the steps to your apartment, he hears a strained gargle coming from your alleyway.  He almost turns away, thinking it’s probably just a stupid raccoon getting into the trash, but he walks down to inspect the noise as a way to delay the inevitable of seeing your face. 

As he walks further down the alley, he squints his eyes and spots a small figure on the ground. Upon moving closer, his eyes catch on something white- the same white sneakers he used to bully you about for always getting scuffed. Before he can even process it, Jungwon jumps into a full sprint. 

When he gets to your side, he collapses to his knees right beside you and ignores the warm feeling of your blood staining his sweats. “Y/n!” He calls in a hurry, scanning your body. “Stay awake for me!” He says as he attempts to shake you awake. 

You barely stir under his touch, a weak groan leaving your lips as he nervously cradles your face. Jungwon winces internally as he takes in the state of your body. There were cuts and bruises marring your face and a stream of blood that was crusted from your nose. Below your face, there was a dark stain of red that was staining your hoodie, and ultimately him as well. You needed help, help from someone that knew how to deal with this sort of stuff. But Jungwon felt conflicted, torn between not wanting to be caught meeting with you but also not wanting your condition to worsen. Deciding in a hurry, he fishes out his phone. As the line rings, he takes a look at the rest of you and dry heaves. 

Though he can’t see much past your clothing, he is able to make out the shape of a boot print left all over your hoodie and a hole where your blood slowly seeps out of. “Shit,” he whispers, pressing a hand to your side. You instinctively flinch under his touch yet again, the sudden pressure having you writhing around in agony. 

“Please- don’t do this K!” You mutter through broken sobs, barely conscious enough to process what was really happening. You choke on the thickness of your blood pooling in your mouth and lurch forward to spit some of it out. “Don’t hurt me, I promise I- I won’t say anything!” 

Jungwon’s heart drops and he rushes to whisper soothing words into your ear. “No, no- Y/n, it’s me, Jungwon. You’re safe.” 

The line finally picks up and Jungwon lets out a strained sigh of relief. “Jay hyung! Please, I need you to come to my location right away.”

“What? Ok, hold on.” There’s some shuffling on the other line and then, “What the hell are you doing at Y/n’s place?” 

Jungwon flinches at his best friend's words, unsure if he made the right choice. But one look at your squirming figure is enough to tell him that he didn’t, “Just get the hell here, Y/n’s been attacked.”

Silence. And then a groan. “What do you mean, attacked?”

“Just get your fucking ass down here, I don’t know what to do, I think she’s bleeding out.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m already in the car. Sunoo is coming with me.” 

Minutes feel like hours as Jungwon presses his hands up against your wound, struggling to maintain the steady flow of blood leaving your body. Finally, when a set of headlights pierces the cold haze of the night, Jungwon’s body slumps. “Over here!” Jungwon calls weakly, finding himself losing feeling in his hands. Jay and Sunoo sprint down to where you and Jungwon are, their faces morphing into horror as they take in the situation. 

From an outside perspective, it looks as though both you and Jungwon were attacked as shown by the blood ruining his clothes. “Jungwon-” Jay says, hurrying to grab Jungwon’s shoulders. The older boy gently pulls him away and whispers comforting words into the panicking boy while Sunoo quickly takes Jungwon’s place. His hands replace Jungwon’s and he winces at the feeling of your blood spread around his palm. 

Jungwon begins to hyperventilate once he’s removed from the situation, the shock kicking in as adrenaline leaves his body. He lays there protectively in Jay’s arms as Sunoo begins to bark commands.  “Jay, grab my phone and call Kim Namjoon.” 

Jay moves with purpose and grabs the phone peeking out from Sunoo’s back pocket, “What should I say?” 

“Tell him to meet us at this address and that he needs to bring his kit. Now.” 

Jay follows Sunoo’s directions, hanging up the phone when said man confirms their location. “Alright, now we need to move her into her apartment, we can’t take her to a hospital.” 

Lifting you is done with delicacy, though it’s excruciating for you. It starts with your arm, the movement sending a splintering pain through your shoulder and you scream. Shortly after getting you up to your feet, a splitting headache swarms your head. You can’t do anything more than scream and let out a string of incoherent words. 

Eventually, you’re moved inside with a shaking Jungwon following after you all. “Her keys- they’re in her pocket.” Jungwon hiccups, his face streaming with fresh tears. Sunoo grabs your keys and unlocks your apartment door slower than he would have liked, but it doesn’t matter. Once the door is open, Jay and Sunoo burst inside and move to set you down on the couch, not caring that your blood quickly makes its home in the fabric. You can buy a new one. 

“Should we call the others?” Jungwon asks, shutting the door behind him.

“No.” Jay is quick to answer as he shakes out his arms, the awkward position of carrying you likely forming a knot in his shoulder. “They’ll freak the hell out and we do not need that right now.” 

In the minutes that follow, Sunoo runs to grab towels and sets them under your body while a knock on your door sounds. Sunoo looks at Jungwon and silently asks for him to get the door. Jungwon runs to the front of your place, opening the door to a tall man with metal framed glasses perched on his nose. “Tell me what happened,” he says, pushing past Jungwon and straight to you and Sunoo. 

“There’s a stab wound to her right side, we can’t manage to stop the bleeding and it seems like her arm may have been broken. I can’t really tell you much else, I’m sorry.” Sunoo sniffles, moving back to let the man open his kit. 

Namjoon works with a sharp efficiency, quickly attaching you to an IV and pushing morphine through the clear tube. As the older man rips open a dressing tray, Sunoo turns to Jay and Jungwon’s confused expressions. “This is Namjoon, a griffin. He fled Luxta many years ago to pursue a career in surgery.”

Jay, more present than Jungwon, looks to his friends with his eyebrows raised. “He went to Chambers, it’s three cities over. The supernatural don’t exist there, so Namjoon could live his own life there freely without the same restrictions we face in Luxta.”

There was little known about what lay beyond the outskirts of Luxta, its borders heavily guarded by government officials as a way to prevent the supernatural from escaping. The few that tried were never heard again. How Namjoon managed to get past them remains a mystery. 

“Namjoon came to Luxta one day and took me in when I was 7. We went right back to Chambers and he raised me as his apprentice until I turned 20. When I became of age, he told me to go back, and said I’d make a difference.” Sunoo continues to explain with a slightly softer voice than before, finally at ease with the way Namjoon works around your body. 

Jay, feeling that same wave of relief, walks over to Jungwon who is slumped against the wall with his head in his knees. “Jungwon…” he whispers, approaching the young boy with concern. He fights the urge to lash out at Jungwon, to scold him for breaking the group's trust and going out to see you. Jay decides to change his approach out of pity for the younger boy, a soft side he doesn’t hold for the other boys.  He couldn’t stand to keep looking at the way Jungwon quivered in the corner and hid in his own shell- it had taken so long to get him out of it when they first started living together, he didn’t want him going back. “Can you tell us what happened?”

The smaller boy looks up with red-rimmed eyes and snot dripping from his nose. He hiccups a few times before speaking. “She- she said his name, K.” His stare is blank as he replays the sound of your screams and sobs- your broken pleas to get K to stop. His heart rips at the memory of you all bloodied and vulnerable, completely helpless and waiting there for death to consume you. Completely unaware of his surroundings, Jungwon’s breathing speeds up and Jay hurries to slide down the wall and sit beside him.

“Breathe for me, Jungwon,” He coos, caressing the younger boy's hair. Jay tucks Jungwon’s head into his chest and looks at Sunoo with despair. “Can you feel your hands?” 

Jay knows Jungwon is panicking, and he knows that when he does, he loses feeling in his extremities. So, he ushers Jungwon to put his hands in Jay’s and begins to massage them, restoring blood flow. “Shh, it’s ok. She’s safe now.” He whispers with every sniffle of Jungwon’s. 

At some point, Jungwon’s breathing calms down just as Namjoon finishes stitching you up. Sunoo takes that chance to look at your body, hoodie sheared off and bruises finally presenting themselves to the world. Sunoo’s heart clenches with despair and a single tear finally makes its debut on Sunoo’s face. The sight of your bruises makes Sunoo nauseous so he looks away.

Namjoon seems to notice the blossom of bruises spanning across your torso and clicks his tongue. He brings out a stethoscope from his kit and presses it over various spots of your body, listening carefully before taking it off. Following that, his hands move to your side and he palpates the area, stopping when you let out another choked sob. “I think she’s broken a few ribs, maybe even fractured some. There’s no way for me to confirm without an x-ray, but I didn’t hear any signs of a collapsed lung, thankfully.”

“Will she be okay?” Sunoo whispers with a shaky voice. 

Namjoon offers him a comforting nod. “She’s a phoenix.  With enough rest and medicine, she’ll be back to normal before you know it. Phoenixes- they’re resilient; they’re self healing.”

Namjoon phrases his words in a way to be reassuring, but he knows they do little to relieve the weight of the situation. From his observations, it seems that these boys were connected to you in a way not many others could relate. 

Collectively, they all turn to Jungwon next for an explanation. He breathes in a shaky inhale. He was gonna have to explain to them why he was visiting you. “I… I’ve been suspicious of K hyung for a while. I’ve had doubts about him since he hurt Heeseung, so I came to Y/n’s to talk about him. But then I found her like that, begging me to not hurt her.” Another river of tears follows before Jungwon can finish. “She- she thought I was K. She thought I was hurting her.” 

Jay shakes his head slowly and sighs, tightening his grip on the younger boy's hand. “I believe you, I know you wouldn’t lie. But, getting the others to believe us is another story…” 

Sunoo chimes in too, “I believe you too. I’ve had my own reservations against K, but I lost focus when Y/n left. I was so consumed with my own grief, I couldn’t see any true colors.” He looks to the ground with shame, lacing his fingers through your limp hand. Though he speaks quietly, his words carry the weight of a thousand apologies. Turning to address you, he croaks out an apology. “I’m sorry, Y/n. We should have never questioned your loyalty to us, your genuineness.”

Jay looks like he’s about to do the same, ready to echo Sunoo’s words, but Namjoon steps forward and demands their attention with just his presence.

“There is one way that we can confirm everything that’s happened.” He says, dropping his voice. “As a griffin, I have the ability to see people’s memories through touch.” 

The room falls silent and Namjoon takes that moment to get rid of his latex gloves. With a softened gaze, he kneels beside you and presses a hand to your cheek. The veins in his hands light up and a rush of your most recent memories flood Namjoon’s mind- fast and overwhelming. The recollection of your most recent memories twists your face into a look of anguish and the three boys standing off to the side can only do as much as exchange a look of pain. They remain silent though, a witness to Namjoon’s powers. 

After what feels like an eternity, Namjoon finally takes his hand off of your face and watches the glow of his veins fade away. He turns to the boys with an unsteady cadence in his breathing. 

“Would you rather I tell you,” he starts with a hitch in his breath, “or show you?” 

Jay answers Namjoon with a look of desperation, “Can you show all of us?” 

Namjoon gives the boy a nod and beckons them forward, settling on the back of his calves as the three boys crowd around him. He grabs Sunoo’s hand, who is standing in the middle, and tells the others to press their foreheads to Sunoo’s temples. 

When they move to connect themselves to Sunoo, visions of what Namjoon saw surge through their own minds. It hits like a tsunami, all at once and unrelenting. Tears fall from Jay’s closed eyes as he watches through your own point of view the discovery of K’s betrayal. His heart clenches with guilt, heavy with shame as he helplessly observes you battle with the strain of his secrets, your own health deteriorating at the hands of K.  

Sunoo doesn’t fare much better, trembling with a coil of shame that’s daring to burst at any minute. He squeezes Namjoon’s hand tighter with every passing second, wincing at the way the boys looked at you when you were let go. The quiet accusation in their eyes, he feels everything- your heartbreak, your isolation, your despair. He wishes he could take it all away, erase what you saw, but it’s too late. 

And then the attack. They listen to the words exchanged between you and K. A tense back and forth that only leads to you being slammed against the wall. Visions of you twisting violently in the grasps of your attackers flash through their minds, a reflection of your pain surging through their bodies, but at a fraction of what you actually felt. 

Jungwon gasps and stumbles away from Sunoo before the memories can get too vivid. He clutches his  stomach in pain, absolutely nauseated by the memory of your attack. It was too raw, too vivid for him to watch. He didn’t want to see first hand how you came to be a sad, pitiful lump of flesh in the middle of your alley. Yet, Jay and Sunoo stay, faces twisting into looks of anguish as they finish the rest of the attack. 

When Sunoo breaks the connection, Jay drops to his knees and scrambles to your side, clutching at your hand with a gut wrenching sob.”Y/n, fuck.” He pleads through a wave of tears, “I- I’m so sorry. What- what should I do?” There's a storm of guilt thundering beneath his skin and it takes all his willpower not to scream out. Sunoo watches Jay’s grip on your hand tighten to the point your skin turns white. 

“Don’t, don’t hurt her more.” He says quietly, placing a hand over Jay’s. 

Jay hesitantly listens to Sunoo, easing up on your grip and falling back. He drops his head and presses himself to the back of your hand. “Yuqi and Minnie, can you show them? And the others?” 

Namjoon responds with a strained voice, “I can.” He pauses, resting a hand on Jay’s back. “Not now, later. I’ve done what I can, she just needs rest now. Would one of you be able to stay with her?” 

Jay’s head snaps up immediately, his hand shooting up in the air, “I can do it.” He says with a look of determination. He barely registers Sunoo’s bittersweet smirk. 

“Good, I’ll see you all tomorrow at the gym.” Namjoon says before guiding the other boys out of your apartment. 

When your apartment door shuts, Jay finally allows himself to crumble. He rests his head against your thigh and relishes in the feeling of your warmth- a reminder that you were still here, still breathing. Without blinking, he watches the ragged rise and fall of your chest, a minute detail that barely keeps him grounded. The boy lets out a shaky breath, face damp with tears as he lets the weight of his guilt cave in on him. 

How could he make this right? Would he still be able to reclaim that bond he once had with you? Just thinking about you refusing to accept him back into your life makes his chest tighten, the ache of turning his back on you spreading like a slow poison. How could he forgive himself for clinging onto K in your absence, led blindly by his false narrative. He could only blame himself for his misplaced trust, and it killed him inside. It killed him that he could’ve stopped your attack from happening if he had just listened. His head feels like it’s going to explode with the relentless pressure of his thoughts. Drained of any energy he once had, he shakes his head and carefully picks you up, arms carrying the emotional weight of the situation more than the physical. 

Your body is limp in his arms and it makes Jay wince knowing that you're completely helpless in his presence, relying on him to keep you safe; something he didn’t feel very deserving of right now. You are like a rag doll in his arms, your consciousness having fled from the face of trauma. With a heavy heart, Jay carries you to your bedroom and as gently as he can, places you in your bed. 

He tucks the comforter around your body and then moves to pick the stray pieces of hair stuck to your face. In that moment of strained serenity, he focuses on the sound of your breathing. It should comfort him, ground him to know that you’re safe now, but it doesn’t. It only serves as a recipe for the bitter knot forming in his throat. 

He can’t bring himself to leave you alone, not after everything that just happened. So rather than retreating to the living room to give you the privacy you rightfully deserve, he hesitantly creates a makeshift bed right beside you on the ground. Just a few pillows and a throw blanket thrown to the ground is enough. He lies flat on his back with his hands clasped together across his stomach and lets his mind drift off. 

He thinks about you. About that stupid pull-up contest you roped him into on your first day, a catalyst for the impending competitions you’d share with him in the next few months. He thinks about your trust, and how you made every effort to look past his flaws and see him for who he is. All those times you laughed with him, an ache growing in your abdomen from laughing so much. It’s a punishing reminder of what he’s just lost. 

Several hours pass before you begin to wake up. Your eyelids feel heavy, like they’re weighed down by the events of last night. But you force them to open, blinking away the dryness that impedes your vision. Immediately, you feel pain shooting all over your body. You try to sit up anyways but a sharp throb radiating around your side keeps you from getting far. 

Suddenly, vivid memories of last night flash across your mind all at once- the cruel voice of K in your ear, the recollection of him treating you like a mere rag doll. You squeeze your eyes shut, willing the memories to go away but they don’t. It happened, and it rips your heart apart. You feel as though you’re reliving the experience, every painful minute of it. 

You’re unaware of the fact that you’re hyperventilating until a hand rests on your shoulder. The touch comes suddenly and you flinch away from it, crying out in pain. “Y/n! It’s Jay. You’re safe, you’re safe.” He’s desperate to reassure you but he can’t help the way he repeats the last words like it’s a reminder to himself too. 

When you open your eyes, you see Jay. He looks horrible, eyes brimming with tears and a frown on his face that’s so broken you almost weep. But you don’t. Instead, you scowl at the mere reminder of him turning his back on you, leaving you in the dust.

You try to scream at him, to curse him out for being so selfish and leaving you without a second thought, but nothing comes out. Only a strangled moan leaves your throat. “Y/n…I-” his voice cracks with emotion and he coughs, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, there are not enough words in the world to express how sorry I am. I should have believed you.” He stares at the floor as he chokes out an apology, but you stay silent. Though you don’t have much of a choice. 

Jay knows his apology is only a bandaid over a gaping wound, but it still hurts him to see the anger on your face. Simmering just beneath your anger is a hollow ache that chases after your heart and you’re not sure if his words will be enough to fill it. 

You spend the rest of your day in bed with Jay doing everything he can to make you comfortable. A tense silence clouds the air, acting as an unspoken barrier that he doesn’t dare to break. You’re not speaking to him either- not because you don’t want to, but because you physically can’t. And you know all you’d have to say to him is a string of curse words and insults you probably wouldn’t mean a few days from now. 

With your voice shot, you have to rely on a bell to get his attention, but even with the bell, Jay doesn’t need it- constantly hovering around you every five minutes just to check in on you, afraid you’ll disappear if he looks away for too long. And every time he enters the room, he’s sporting the same broken look from before. It’s a look that haunts you when he changes your bandages, or when he feeds you, even when he’s adjusting your pillows; it’s the same solemn look every time. 

It’s a repetitive cycle that lasts throughout the entire day, him tending to your every need without you so much as lifting a finger. He does all of this in a painstaking silence, but you can feel the weight of his sorrow leaking past your defenses. But it’s too fresh, too soon to start unwrapping what’s been weighing on everyone’s minds lately. You’re afraid of confronting reality. 

Outside of the protection of your home, word of your attack reaches the rest of the group. Coincidentally, the news breaks on a day that K is nowhere to be seen, though his absence does little to alleviate the strain on Jungwon and Sunoo’s chests. The weight of yesterday’s events make every breath they take sharp and painful, like it’s stealing their air. 

They start with Yuqi, finding her at the front desk of the Dawn gym spinning around in her chair. “Yuqi,” Jungwon calls out, greeting her at the front. She quirks a brow at the three men, glancing at Namjoon who was a few feet behind him and Sunoo. “This is Namjoon- he’s a griffin.” 

“Yuqi, there’s something important we need to discuss. We need everyone.” Sunoo says with an uncharacteristic seriousness in his tone. 

She seems to hesitate for a second- something she’s started doing since the night you left, but nods her head and takes them into the Dusk gym. “Okay… Care to explain why you’re being so ominous?” She asks, a lame attempt at a joke. She can sense the tension, she’s not stupid. But with her confidence rattled, she’s not sure what to expect. 

Jungwon only shakes his head at Yuqi and anxiously awaits the arrival of the rest of the group once they reach the benches. When he sees the others approaching them, he starts to pick at his fingers, but Sunoo notices and takes his hand to hold in his. As the group settles around the benches, Sunoo steps up to speak, granting Jungwon the much needed reprieve he’s silently desired for. “Y/n was attacked last night.” 

Sunoo’s words hang at a stand still, like they’ve rendered the world of its ability to keep turning. He feels himself trembling with anxiety and he relies solely on gravity to keep him anchored. The silence is overwhelming, practically suffocating as he waits for his words to process through everyone- but it doesn’t last long. 

Sunghoon breaks the silence with anger, voice sharp and bitter that brims with the memories of your earlier betrayal. “I’m not surprised. Karma will always make its way around eventually.” 

Sunoo clenches his fist at his sides, heat rising through his body like a steaming pot. “You hate her that much?” He asks with a slight waver in his voice, struggling to control the anger at bay. The rest of the boys keep their eyes glued to the ground while Sunoo stares at him with a fury he’s never felt before. Jungwon must notice because he desperately tugs at Sunoo’s sleeve, an attempt to get him back on track. 

Sunoo lets out a forced exhale and straightens his posture, quickly pushing away the heat building in his body. “I’m going to choose to ignore that,” he starts, shooting Sunghoon a glare. “This is Namjoon, he’s a griffin. He can show you the truth.”

Before Namjoon can step forward, Jungwon chimes in, “Where’s Minnie?” He asks, noticing the lack of a second female from the group. 

“She called in sick.” Yuqi answers, focusing her attention on the older man behind him. 

Namjoon then steps forward with a solemn expression and reaches out for Yuqi’s hand. “I need you all to hold hands with Yuqi in the middle. This way, you’ll be able to see the same vision, the same truth.” 

The boys link hands as directed, a connection between the group eventually forming. Namjoon doesn’t say anything more, only closes his eyes and lets his veins light up again. Jungwon looks away once he sees the familiar radiance pass through his hands, the scene in front of him only acting as a harsh reminder of what happened just last night. 

Seconds pass by and then the first gasp. Yuqi’s heart drops and her face contorts into a twist of horror, the truth crashing through her like a tsunami. The first of your memories flash through her; the phone call, K’s voice, everything. The same fear that you felt when K caught you rips through Yuqi’s body like she was there herself. She was wrong, she was so wrong.

The boys react in varying degrees. Heeseung’s breath hitches and his guilt suddenly begins to eat him alive as he watches you deal with the burden of carrying K’s secret. Niki isn’t doing much better, a few stray tears slipping past his cheek as he clenches his jaw. And Sunghoon, usually so composed and well kept, screams in silence.The realization that they had it all wrong weighs heavily in their hearts, though Sunghoon remains motionless. The weight of their collective mistake scratches their insides like a hungry beast. 

And then it happens.

A strangled gasp rips from Sunghoon’s throat and he breaks off the chain, immediately finding eyes with Sunoo. He takes a step forward but Jake, who has also let his hands go, rushes to hold him back, unsure of what the frost elf was about to do. “She’s safe.” Namjoon says, taking his own hand back and pushing them into his pockets. “Sunoo, Jungwon, Jay and I worked together to make sure she’s stable.” 

“That fucker-” Sunghoon seethes, eyes glowing blue. “I’ll kill him!”

While Sunghoon thrashes in Jake’s grasp, the werewolf trying his hardest to keep the frost elf calm, Yuqi loses her grip on reality. “Oh my God…” She breaks her silence and brings a hand to her mouth, pupils expanding with her panic. “She was telling me the truth.” The serpent falls to the ground, body trembling as she clutches her burning chest. An unrestrained sob rips from her throat and a tear finally falls from her eyes. Sunoo winces; watching Yuqi- someone he grew to admire- break in front of him. 

“I need you to get up, Yuqi.” Sunoo says through gritted teeth, residual anger still lingering in his body. When she stands, body swaying slightly, Sunoo continues despite the growing lump in his throat from suppressing his tears for so long. “So now you all know what really happened. Y/n never lied, and the consequence of telling the truth was her being brutally attacked.”

Standing behind him, Jungwon flinches, startled by Sunoo’s sudden aggression. “Hyung- please…” he whispers, his hand reaching out to the older. 

Sunoo shakes his hand away from the boy but mentally kicks himself for his hypocrisy. He knows he harbored the same doubts as they did, but his resolve to fix what they so easily broke is persistent. The only way he could forgive himself was to get the others to come together. “We need to get rid of K.”

“And how the hell do we do that?” Jake asks, his mind crowding with thoughts as he finally lets go of Sunghoon, albeit reluctantly.

Heeseung, who was silent until now, steps forward. “We tell him the truth. If his mission was to give the government information, he’ll have to find another way. Kicking him out will keep him from monitoring us.” His voice holds steady, but on the inside, he’s crumbling. Burdened with the knowledge that you were left in the dark and faced only with the backs of those you trusted, he experiences an ache that could only be the equivalent of a stake driving through his heart. 

The room falls into a heavy silence, but an unspoken sense of unity slowly develops under the tension. With their eyes meeting under the harsh lights hanging above them, they nod their heads and redirect their grief towards getting rid of K. Memories of his betrayal echo against the walls of the gym, the place where it all started and the place where it’d all end. They just had to find him. 

⠈⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁

 That following night, Jay and Y/n lie awake beside each other, yet it’s the furthest they’ve ever been emotionally. In the silence, Jay twiddles his fingers. “Y/n…” His voice pierces through the darkness of your room, quiet, but unmistakably there. “Are you still awake?”

You tell yourself not to answer him, to not give him the satisfaction of knowing your wall was slowly falling, but that stubborn part of you that’s been desperate for some semblance of comfort, doesn’t care. “Yes.”

Jay can’t say it surprises him when he hears the thorn in your voice, despite only giving him a one word answer. He doesn’t have the liberty to wince, only repent. Your simple response is like a betrayal to the storm that’s been brewing inside you the past few nights, ones that were never captured with sleep or rest. Night after night, you’ve woken up in a cold sweat gasping for air, memories of your own demise playing through your mind like a film reel. Not just K, but the undead too, the sickly stench of decay follows you like they’re still there, still holding you captive in their brittle arms.  You’re suffocating. 

“The others know, now. Yuqi and Minnie. The boys. Everyone.”

So why hadn’t you seen any of them- is what you want to ask, but you stay quiet. 

“They all feel awful.” He adds quickly, like he needs to reassure himself that it wasn’t just him that felt guilty.

You scoff with a bitter taste on your tongue, “They should.”

The anger, the rage that’s been building up over the last few days , suddenly courses through you all at once. You no longer feel an ache in your chest which has been overflowing with feelings of betrayal and abandonment, that was foreign now. All you felt now was a rage as hot as the flames you produced. “Not a single one of you gave me the benefit of the doubt, or stood up for me when I needed you guys the most.” You spit with accusation heavy in the words. 

“Y/n… I-“ he starts, but you cut him off. 

“Don’t say it.” 

You sit up suddenly, a sharp ring blaring in your ears when you do, but you ignore it. Jay’s laying on the floor with the blanket from your living room clutched in his hands, eyes dark with regret. “Don’t say sorry. Not again.” You seethe, bending forward to grab a fistful of his hair. “If you were really sorry, none of this would’ve happened.”

His face flashes with pain and he lets out a groan, throwing his hands up to your wrists in an attempt to get you to let go. “Y/n, please- I’ll do anything for you to forgive me.” 

Without a second thought, you clutch at his hair even tighter- the sudden power surging through your body. You were desperate for control, you needed something- someone- to break. “Come here,” You say. Your words are quiet but they burn with authority. 

The older boy moves to sit beside you, frantic eyes searching your face. “Wh-what do you need?”

“Kiss me.”

He freezes, but you don’t care. “If you’re really sorry for what you did, you’ll let me use you.” 

There’s a brief moment of silence, one that’s just long enough for you to second guess your words, but he leans forward, cutting you off from your thoughts. He presses a gentle kiss to your lips and you preen under the intimacy, but it’s not enough. Not nearly enough to quell the fire growing inside you. 

“Harder,” you mutter, grabbing at the back of his head and pulling him towards you. Your next kiss is fueled with rage and desire, a complete juxtapose from the one just seconds ago. Your fingers twist the locks of his hair painfully and he groans into the kiss, a pain he slowly learns to crave for more. You slip your tongue into his mouth and swirl it around his own. It’s lewd and messy, spit exchanging between your mouths and falling past your swollen lips as you move your mouth against his. He closes his lips around your tongue, gently sucking on the muscle until you pull away. 

Breaking the kiss with only a string of saliva keeping you connected, you push his chest back until he’s laying flat on your bed. His breath catches in his throat as he watches you straddle his lap. “Y/n-”

“Shut up, just stop.” You say absently, settling into his lap and riding his shirt up his chest. He presses his mouth closed when you move to drag your fingers down the outline of his abs, tracing the subtle contour on his stomach. They flex under your touch, sensitive to the tips of your fingers. “So pretty,” you whisper to yourself, pressing your full palm to his stomach. Seeing him underneath you, lust quickly fills your thoughts and you grind down on his lap. It doesn’t do much to satisfy the growing need flourishing in your core, but it’s enough for now. 

His golden skin seems to glow under the moonlight shining through your window, shimmering against the sheen of sweat that’s quickly started to form on his abs. Your fingers move with a mind of their own, crawling upwards until they capture his nipples in the pads of your fingers. The pinkish-brown of his nipples perk up immediately, hardening in an instant under your touch. “Fuck…” he says through a sigh, throwing his head back onto your pillow. 

“Am I making you feel good?”

“Yes- Y/n, fuck.” 

Your fingers continue to twiddle with his nipples, his sudden twitches only stirring you on. With his quiet moans prodding against your defenses, you lean down and take one of them into your mouth. Your tongue swirls against the bud and Jay lets out a string of curses, throwing his hand up to hold back your hair. “Yes, keep doing that.” He pleads, gripping your hair tightly. 

You continue to flick your tongue against his nipple until your jaw aches for a break while you mouth at the bud. When you lean back, you flip your hair to the side and grind your ass down into his lap, earning a throaty groan from the boy. “Will you let me ride you?” you gasp between the back and forth of your hips. 

He nods hurriedly, throwing his hands to grab at your waist. You’re about to tell him off, but he starts to move your hips in tandem with your swaying and it extinguishes the scolding that rests on the  tip of your tongue. For a moment, the both of you enjoy the small act of desire as you use each other’s body to get off, but you quickly grow impatient when you feel the hardness of his cock underneath you.  “God, you make me so mad.” You say, feeling yourself let the anger run its way through your body.

You quickly get off of him and move to pull his shorts down, only leaving him in a pair of boxers that are stained with precum and his shirt that you had ridden up earlier. “This looks painful,” you say, palming at his bulge. 

He catches his bottom lip in his teeth and sucks in a gasp. “You like it when my hands are on your cock?” You ask, tracing the outline with your finger. 

Jay doesn’t manage more than a meager nod as you tighten your grip around his member, sliding your hand up and down. He’s achingly big in your grasp and it throbs with your every touch. Practically drooling for something to fill you up, you pull his boxers down and he springs free. His abdomen quickly stains with his precum and you lap at the shine, smiling up at him with your tongue sticking out.

You move off the bed to strip yourself of your panties, but a wave of hesitance washes through you and you freeze. You're completely out in the open for Jay to see and it burns a pit in your stomach, reminding you of your earlier vulnerabilities in the alley, but he quickly places a hand on your thigh and caresses it, sensing your unease. The sudden wavering of your confidence eliminates any sense of dominance you managed to exert on him and you melt like putty in his hands.  “So pretty, so beautiful.” He says quietly, holding eye contact with you as he gestures for you to sit back on him. 

The timbre of his voice unnerves you, extinguishing what little confidence you once had. You move to sit back on his lap again, your juices soaking his cock as soon as your folds wrap around his member. The heat of his arousal melts into your core and you shudder, “Move, baby.” He says, hands finding purchase on your hips. 

You begin to slide your hips back and forth, letting your arousal spread over his cock until it’s drenched in your slick. With every grind forward, the tip of his cock prods at your clit, eliciting a sharp gasp from Jay each time. “Put it in, princess.” He says, stilling your hips. 

Jay grabs the base of his cock and keeps it still for you as you sink down his length, the sudden stretch drawing out a wanton moan from your throat. “Mmph-” you moan out and bite your lip when the tip of his cock kisses the hilt of your cervix. With his cock breaching your body, you relish in the feeling of being full again. While temporary, that empty feeling in your belly quickly fills with a fire that blossoms further with your every movement. 

“You’re taking me so well, princess.” He praises, watching you with admiration in his eyes. “Will you take this off for me?” He tugs on the end of your shirt and you quickly rid yourself of the fabric, revealing the absence of a bra underneath. His dick twitches in response and he quickly moves his hands to hold your tits. “That’s it, baby.” 

You put a hand on the center of his chest to anchor your weight as you grind on his cock, his navel stimulating your clit whenever you push your hips forward. “Bounce, baby, ride it correctly.” He grunts, pushing your hips up slightly. 

“God, I hate you.” you whimper out, feeling his hardness slip in and out of you as you move to adjust yourself.

“I know, baby, I know.” 

It’s as though the heat of his touch is working to unravel the string that’s been knotted around your heart, guarding your weakest vulnerabilities. You fall weak to the closeness of his body, an intimacy you had been craving since you were let go. Your body subconsciously surrenders itself to him and dampens the strength of your anger. 

He squeezes his fingers around your hips and helps to lift you up and down his cock, the two of you working in tandem to reach the highs of your own pleasure. The drag of his cock moving through your pussy draws out a series of moans that you can’t hold back. He wraps his arms around your waist and brings you down to his chest, changing the pace of your act and thrusting upwards instead.

You feel vulnerable in his hold, exposed- but you finally begin to breathe. Your bitterness towards Jay still lingers, but it’s no longer the centerpiece of your emotions. Before you can stop it, tears begin to sting your eyes and your next blink has them falling down like a downpour. “Let it out, baby.” Jay whispers, stroking your back as he slows his thrusts. “I’m here for you now, I’m never gonna leave.” 

You sit back up and lean your hands back onto his knees, giving him full view of your body. Your hips move up and down on their own and you throw your head back in pleasure, all while your heart brims with an unresolved anger. Every one of your suppressed emotions seem to make their debut in the heat of the moment, your body slamming down onto his hips as you cry out. Pleasure erupts in your lower core and you shudder around his length, cumming until the girth of his dick is wrapped in a creamy white. He keeps going.

He bends his legs so that he can plant his feet on the bed and thrusts into you aggressively, “You can take it, I know you can.” He grunts, squeezing your hips till they’re sure to bruise later. The force of his thrusts easily have you jostling about in the air, your grip on reality slipping as a familiar coil of heat forms in your stomach again.

“Jay-” You clench down hard on his cock and push against his chest to ground yourself. “I’m cu-cumming again!” The words barely leave your lips before waves of pleasure surge through you. Jay brings a hand down to your heat and toys with your clit, orchestrating the peak of your pleasure so that you can ride it out for longer. 

As your shaking reaches an end, he moves his hand back to your hips and roughly flips you over onto your back. He throws his shirt off and throws it somewhere without a care in the world before continuing. “You’re doing so well for me, baby. Keep taking my cock, yeah, just like that.” He says while pistoning into your throbbing cunt. “Your pussy feels so good wrapped around my dick like this.” 

“I- I can’t, it’s too- too much!” you stutter through each thrust, feeling the bundle of nerves down there light up like a fire. The intensity of his fire makes you squirm underneath him, his lustrous gaze penetrating you. 

His thrusts begin to meet with an equally desperate desire to have him closer to you and you grab at his neck and pull him into a messy kiss. Your fingers trail past the ridges of his dragon scales, armoring him from your desperate claws as he fills you to the hilt. The feeling of his scales has your stomach twist with arousal, the unnatural hardness of his body only fueling your lust. “You- you feel so good, Jay.” You gasp between thrusts. 

He pulls away from you to see his cock disappearing into your pussy, the sight of him buried so deep inside of you making him twitch with desire. “Fuck, I’m close.” Jay grips your tits in his hands as he works towards his orgasm with fervor, incoherent words escaping his lips every few seconds. 

You arch into his touch, feeling on fire from the way he ravishes your body. He pants between thrusts and you move a hand up to his nipples, pinching the delicate bud between your fingers. Your touch pushes him over the edge and his hips stutter to a sudden stop. With one last snap of his pelvis meeting your ass, the most erotic moan leaves his mouth and he shoots his cum into you. The pit in your belly heats up and you drink his moans up like a drug, gasping along with him. He leans over you and drops his head, proof of his efforts meshing with your own sweat.

Exhausted, you pull him back in for a desperate hug, suddenly feeling your heart sting. He flips you onto your side with his member still keeping you connected to him. “You did so good, baby.”

It seems that the release of Jay’s arousal has dampened the fire in your heart and so you cry out, both from pain and pleasure as Jay continues to coo into your ear. “I- I hate what you did to me,” you sob, the intensity of your harboured emotions suddenly rushing out. In an act of desperation and vulnerability, you inch forward to bury your head into the crook of his neck. “You broke me, all of you.”

Jay just listens, soothing you through the caresses on your back and the humming of his voice. His cock softens a bit inside of you and the tip is starting to become overstimulated, but he doesn’t make any effort to pull out. You needed this, you needed his closeness. “I know, baby.” he whispers absently, moving a hand to card his fingers through your hair. 

Maybe it was the crash from your high, but you find yourself shaking in Jay’s hold. The intimacy you craved for so much in that week you were alone, you were finally getting it. You continue to sob into his chest, not minding the trail of tears that started to decorate his sun kissed skin or the snot that unceremoniously rubbed on him. It was like a storm of loneliness was pushing its way to the surface, gripping you from Jay’s embrace. You mind was your own worst enemy, blocking you from the solace that you desperately need. 

“Let it out, Y/n. I’ll be right here to hold you up,” It pained Jay to see you like this. So broken, so shattered. You were usually so confident and walked with an unwavering authority that he had grown to admire, but it was all gone now. The you he used to know was dead and it was all his fault.

Slowly, Jay slides out of you and tongues his cheek when he feels his cum pour out of you and onto his thigh which was slotted between your legs. He needs to clean you up, but the iron grip on his body prevented him from doing so. “Baby, can you let go for just a few minutes?” Your desperate whimper could have been mistaken as a cute refusal to not let him go, like you were wanting to cling onto him like a koala for just a little more, but it wasn’t funny in the slightest. It was dark and embarrassing and it stripped you of your defenses. 

You feared for your life and so you finally let yourself feel Jay’s body on yours. You couldn’t let that go. He was so easily taken from you with just a few manipulative words from someone else, what’s to say he wouldn’t leave again? Anyone could take you, hurt you, the moment he leaves. The cocoon he holds you in feels like your last bit of resolve, the strength of your fire dimming with each passing second. So you clutch onto him even tighter. 

Jay uses every fiber in his being to pry himself off of you, “I’ll be right back, Y/n. I just need to clean you up.” The cold of his absence hits you immediately once he disappears into your bathroom, only the sound of him rummaging around acting as a reminder you weren’t alone. The feeling of his warm skin no longer being held in your fingers suddenly feels foreign and you grasp at the bed sheets as a desperate attempt to replace that pitiful feeling. When he comes back, he has a damp washcloth in his hand. 

“I’m gonna clean you, ok?” His voice is spoken in a soft whisper and he gently pries your legs open. A wet cloth prods at your folds, but it’s warm and you feel your body melt into the sensation. Jay moves meticulously between your legs so as to not aggravate the tissue down there, trying his best to not bother you. It collects both of your guys’ essence and when he finishes, he goes to toss the cloth into your washing machine. Coming back, he plants a delicate kiss on your shoulder and slides back into the bed, pulling you into him. 

“What do I do?” You feel like your insides are ripping apart. Part of you wants to stay mad at them all, to never forgive them. But the other, lonely part of you that’s still stuck in your isolated past, craves their touch. 

“You take it one day at a time, baby. And I’ll be right here the entire time.” He presses his hand to the back of your head and brings his lips down to yours and it’s so delicate you don’t even know if he really kissed you. “I’m so sorry for everything, and I’ll spend the rest of my life working for your trust and forgiveness.” 

A stray tear slips from your eyes and he quickly wipes it away with his thumb, “Don’t cry, love. Things are going to be okay.” 

⠈⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁

“I just don’t get how someone so nice could have done something so deceptive?”

“I know, but red roses have black shadows soo.” Jungwon answers, crossing his legs over each other. “He may have seemed perfect on the outside, but he was harboring a multitude of secrets on the inside.” The boy looks at you with a fragile expression, a bittersweet reminder of your attack. His eyes were glossed over as if the memory was still fresh in his mind, and for a second, you wonder if Jungwon blames himself for what happened. You can see the shame on his face, the way his dimples no longer show or the way his eyes no longer shine when he speaks. You wanted to reach out, tell him that everything was okay, but everything was not okay. 

“I’m not glass, Jungwon.” You tell him with a firm voice, pushing yourself up from your couch. The fabric was still stained with remnants of your attack. As much as you rubbed at it with a heavy dose of stain remover, it seemed like the red would never fade away. Unfortunately, the stain remover was only so strong, and so were you. 

Jungwon follows your movement as you move to the kitchen, watching as you occupy your hands with the dirty dishes in your sink which have managed to pile up since you returned to the gym last week. “I know that, Y/n. But we don’t know where K is, he could be waiting for a chance to jump from the shadows and attack you again.”

The subtle reminder of your attack twists the knife K had plunged into your side that night, ripping you open and leaving you bare. You felt so small despite your repeated efforts to appear strong. All your life, you wished for freedom beyond the four walls of your parents’ apartment, and eventually your own. You yearned for freedom, whispering it against every birthday candle you blew out alone. And you had it, until you didn’t. For so long, you desired a sliver of freedom, only for it cost you your safety when it was finally in your hands. Exchanging your freedom for your safety was a cruel bargain that you didn’t know would happen, like it was hidden in the fine print of your metaphorical contract to life. You could never truly exhale until K was found and the world knew who you were. 

K hadn’t been seen since the night that Namjoon had visited. It sat in the back of your mind like an anchor weighing you down from looking up. His absence was like a double-edged sword: a relief that he was gone, yet there was a terrible sense of dread that was left in the wake of his disappearance. Not once could you shake the feeling of being watched, but you kept quiet. Whether it was smart or reckless, you weren’t sure, but you know you’ve been more of a burden than you’d like. The boys didn’t need another reason to glue themselves to your side like a second shadow. 

When you first met with them again after your attack, you weren’t sure what to expect, but it certainly wasn’t see them on their knees with tears stinging their eyes. Sunghoon, ever so guarded and trapping his heart in a layer of ice, was the most devastating of all. He was trembling on his knees, begging, pleading with you to meet his gaze. “Please- please…” he had whispered, his face paler than it normally was. 

And Heeseung, who was usually so composed and well kept, seemed empty. His eyes were no longer that vibrant red you had grown so used to. Now, there was a haze over them that flickered like a dying ember. He couldn’t meet your gaze, but he repented his regrets to you like a mantra. 

Jake was no better, and if he had an actual wolf tail and ears, they would’ve been pressed back with his tail tucked between his legs in shame. He had pushed himself against your leg and looked up at you like a kicked puppy. He murmured sorry over and over again until the weight of his regret tired him out so much he fell asleep at your feet. And you stood there, all two hours of it, looking at him as he slept, subconscious whimpers wracking his body, until you could find it within you to forgive him. 

So maybe yelling at them and cursing them out didn’t end up happening, but you still felt that anger and betrayal deep within you like a scar. But like it had with Jay, your desire for human touch trumped your resolve to stay mad at them. 

Yuqi, Minnie, and Niki had also apologized to you- groveled, really. They confided in you about their remorse and how much your departure weighed on their minds. It was a mess of tears and whispered promises to never leave each other again. 

Since that night, you were never left alone again.

The boys were relentless in their protection, trailing every foot step of yours. Heeseung had even insisted on accompanying you to the washroom at the gym, “just in case” he said as he shrugged off your concerns. And Jake even scented you, committing your scent to memory so that he’d always be able to find you no matter how far you were. Sunghoon was no better, insisting he be the one to walk you to and from the gym like a personal escort. Their protection was bittersweet, filling you with a sense of love and security, but also acting like a metaphorical cage that felt all too familiar. 

And today was no different. While the boys had begun to back off, keeping you in their field of vision rather than following you around, they were still hyper aware of their surroundings. K still hadn’t come back despite two weeks passing since your attack. The boys were expectedly on edge, checking corners and keeping tabs on you like he could pop out of nowhere, and he did. 

A horribly loud crash pierces through the peace of the gym and you flick your head back to see what happened, but you see nothing. Before anyone can even move, the one way door to the gym slams open and a mirage of men in black, tactical gear storm in with guns holstered and riot shields protecting their front line. A smoke bomb is chucked into the air and lands with a blinding fog that quickly surrounds the area. 

“Y/n, get behind me!” Jake shouts above the chaos, sounds suddenly mixing into one big blur as he pushes you behind him. 

The gym erupts into chaos- panicked shouting from all over and bodies moving so fast you can hardly keep up through the haze. In the cloud of smoke, you spot a pair of red eyes- Heeseung- rip past you. Not far behind him, another figure follows after him- Yuqi. 

Her voice booms through the gym, “The government is here!” 

As the smoke finally clears up, you steal your first glance at your group fighting with the soldiers head on. A horrible realization dawns on you right then, you were outnumbered. There’s several dozen soldiers storming into the gym now and for a second, you think this is the end. But then you see your gym members flying past you and putting themselves in direct line of fire. 

Heeseung’s familiar red tendrils move through the air and pick up soldiers left and right before slamming them back into the ground. You hear the disgruntled screams of soldiers being thrown around by his shadows while the owner of the tendrils works through the crowd one by one at supernatural speeds. 

Yuqi mirrors the same ferocity as Heeseung, relentlessly attacking the first few soldiers she comes across. Searing venom shoots off her tongue with deadly precision, burning the eyes of those it lands on. She’s relentless in her attack, her snake-like grip allowing her to throttle the soldier’s throats like an iron vice. 

Sunghoon jumps into action at the same time as Heeseung and Yuqi. He’s quick to coat the area around him in a layer of ice and gracefully advances through his own wave of soldiers, ice blade slicing through their torsos and an ice-forged shield knocking others off their feet. 

In the corner of your eye, Niki and Jay fight side by side. The younger shifts in and out of his kitsune form and pounces from soldier to soldier, alluding them with horrific visions and auditory hallucinations, allowing Jay to use that momentary distraction as a way to burn them all to ashes. 

You’re still with Jake, who is leading you over to the locker room. He’s about to hurry you in, to tell you to stay there until it’s safe to come out, but a piercing scream interrupts him. Your eyes flick towards the sound and you spot Sunoo who has broken the glass of the staff room that hangs over the gym. He sings  his heart out, temporarily paralyzing every soldier.

You use this distraction to escape Jake’s hold, finally free of your own mental captivity. He shouts after you but it’s no use, you’ve already teleported to the front lines in a flash of flames. You flash balls of fire at the men in quick sequence, watching them fall to the ground as they writhe about in agony. Your fire’s not enough to kill them, so you pick them off one by one by forcing their skulls into the ground with your foot, your super strength aiding you in this unique endeavor. As you work through the men, you see Jungwon in the background, working with Minnie to blind soldiers and disarm them of their guns. 

In the midst of all the chaos, you had barely registered the fact that the soldiers were armed. Your heart sinks at the realization, the fact that they had the one thing that could instantly kill you all, dawning your mind like a storm. Despite the supernatural gifts that you all possessed, you knew your bodys’ would not be able to withstand the threat of a bullet. In your own moment of realization, a soldier surges forward and slams the butt of his rifle into your skull. 

Pain rips through your head like an explosion as you hit the ground, your vision going white. Forcing yourself to gather your bearings, you bring a hand up to your head and quickly let your flames seep into your skull, kicking your regenerative abilities into action. You blink through the dissipating pain until finally, your vision comes back- just in time for you to lock eyes with your attacker: K. 

The sight of him has your stomach churning in waves, his twisted smile rekindling the flames of that night. Your breath catches and you feel your throat go on fire as bile rises upwards. You can’t move, your body locking up and freezing over with fear. Despite the shock to your system, you force yourself to call out, to scream as loud as you can, “It’s K!”

In the midst of all the movement, your voice rings through the space and draws every gaze towards you. The boys’ have a look of dread on their face, only onlookers to the sight of you on the ground faced with a domineering K. “Kill her!” K’s voice booms through the chaos, black tendrils rising from behind him like a second pair of arms. 

Yuqi’s world seems to still in that moment. Being the closest member to you, the men she was just attacking divert their attention to you, drawn by K’s voice. In that crucial moment, memories flood Yuqi’s mind and she’s reminded of your abilities and the research she took it upon herself to conduct when she hired you. In that same storm of memories, she also recalls the fierce protection the boys have over you, the way they would break under their own rage if they saw you get hurt. 

A sickening realization settles in Yuqi’s mind. You needed to die. She knew in her heart that you’d survive, make it to live another day, but the others didn’t, and she needed to use that to her advantage. 

So, Yuqi decides to stay still. Jake’s voice cuts through the chaos as he screams to Yuqi, screams at her to do something, but she stays rooted to the spot. Eventually, Heeseung, Sunghoon, and the rest begin to join in, their voices increasingly desperate as they beg Yuqi to save you, too far to make a difference themselves. But she remains unmoving.

In the middle of their desperate shouting, the cluster of soldiers surrounding you increases and K moves in on you. His black tendrils wrap around you like a halo and slowly shroud your vision and intoxicate your air. Then, the first gunshot rings out and your chest explodes with pain.

Taglist: @heesimp, @kyunlov, @quill-ink, @lunaritex, @jiryunn, @jakeswifez, @fancypeacepersona, @nshmrarki, @ikaw-at-ikaw, @wilonevys, @strxwbloody, @capri-cuntz, @riribelle, @machambrx, @vousty, @rebeccakan, @wonnienyang, @koizekomi, @heeweenie, @skyearby, @rxlxvr, @missychief1404, @doveblackboat, @prkhoonielvrss,

Permanent taglist: @kittys00, @ikaw-at-ikaw, @17ericas, @tunafishyfishylike

[hannahbarberra162]

Mating Call, Part 2 (Marco x Reader, dubcon, Monster Marco)

18+ MDNI | on Ao3

The first part

Summary: The World Government has worked hard to obfuscate an interesting fact about Zoan Devil Fruits since the Void Century. In order for a Zoan Devil Fruit to be awakened, the Zoan user must find and claim their mate in accordance with their nature.

Zoan fruit users are driven to find their mates, seeking someone to fill the gnawing need within them, even if they don't recognize it themselves.

~

Thank you to @gouraminnow for reading the rough draft! There's another thank you at the end to avoid chapter spoilers :3

~

You startled awake as a sharp cry pierced through the early morning light, sitting straight up and scanning the area. Your nervous system was on full alert as you quickly looked for the emergency, the instinct ingrained in you after your years in medical school and residency. After a moment, you relaxed as you remembered you were in a cave with the Phoenix. Right, right. Kidnapped by stupid pirates and trapped with the world’s most temperamental fiery bird.

You yawned and stretched, awake for the day. Unfortunately you wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep now but maybe you’d be able to catch a nap later. You were still resting against the body of the Phoenix, which was more singed on its wings than it had been the day before. You leaned your head back against the Phoenix like it was an armchair. It out a small chirp, almost like a coo.

“You woke me up, you didn’t tell me I have to move yet. You gonna die and be reborn, huh? You better not die on me for real - then your buddies will kill me and I have tickets to see Soul King live in a few months. So just remember to be reborn from the ashes, and all will be well. Hell, I’ll take you with me if you get me out of here,” you said to the Phoenix. Using its flank for support, you stood up to see what Thatch had left for you to eat. You were desperate for some coffee but you wouldn’t get your hopes up. Walking towards the stone slab, you were arrested in your path by the Phoenix’s beak pushing you towards the back of the cave.

“H-hey, wait! I want - I’m hungry!” you pleaded with the Phoenix. It didn’t answer but continued to corral you behind itself. As you got a closer sight of the sharp beak, your jovial tone dropped as you remembered you were dealing with an apex predator. It was getting annoying being moved around like a piece on a chess board but you weren’t going to protest as long as you could see snapped femurs by the far wall.

“P-please! I just need some water,” you begged the bird.  The Phoenix made a sound like a chuff as it pushed you further from your goal. It moved you to the back of the cave and stood up onto its long legs, the razor sharp talons at the end of its feet on full display. Now that it was standing, it took up the majority of the cave only leaving you a few feet for yourself.

Now that it stood up you could see more bones piled behind where it had been sitting, cementing your decision to let it do whatever it wanted without protest. 

Despite the clear danger it presented you, you couldn’t help but admire its long golden tail in the morning light, the golden circles gleaming like coins as it fanned out behind the Phoenix. You tried to shift yourself to a slightly more comfortable position but the Phoenix puffed up, as if offended. It raised its foot, its sharpened talons inches from your face. You were technically a Marine, but you weren’t courageous like the fighting units - you screamed and screwed your eyes shut, awaiting your death like so many before you. 

But it never came.

After a few moments of silence, you opened your eyes a sliver, you found the Phoenix’s foot wrapped around you, its talons close to your side as it curled its toes around you to keep you in place. Despite the proximity of its razor sharp claws to your skin, it hadn’t sliced or mained you in any way. Instead, it had taken one of the canteens in its beak and was dangling by the strap above your head, waiting for you to open your eyes. If you could guess the expression of the Phoenix, you would have said it was amused.

“Oh, um. Thank you?” you said, reaching for the canteen held high above your head. The Phoenix dipped its head down, handing you the water bottle. You grabbed it with shaking fingers before unscrewing the cap. You chugged from the metal container, suddenly realizing how parched you were. You drank until the canteen was empty, the Phoenix dipping its head once more to take the empty container from your hand. 

Now that your thirst was slaked you relaxed in the grasp of talon that was still wrapped around your body. The Phoenix churred and looked at you, as if asking a question. You gave it a look before trying to guess what it was asking.

“Nah, I don’t need food just yet. Not really a breakfast person. I’ll get some later,” you said as you rolled your head on your neck. The Phoenix squawked in reply, making you startle in its grasp. “Or, um, I’ll ask you for some food?” you surmised, scared to upset the giant flaming bird. It trilled softly and started to unclench you from its grasp. It could understand you, so maybe Marco was in there somewhere even if he wasn’t coming out just yet. You waited until the claw completely opened before you moved, scootching a little beyond the now relaxed talons. It was clear that the Phoenix was running the show; you were just a monkey in its circus.

The rest of the morning wasn’t particularly eventful, and even relaxing in parts. It wasn’t like there was anything to do in the cave so you spent an hour or so observing the Phoenix. You doubted that many had the opportunity to do so, particularly not vets. The Phoenix wasn’t like any other bird you’d ever seen - it seemed to be a composite of the best features of many kinds of birds. It had the sharp, hooked beak of a bird of prey, its call like a songbird, the beautiful plumage of a parrot, and the body of water fowl. It was an interesting combination and his features blended together seamlessly, its features in harmony. 

After a while of sitting in the cave, you started to get bored. You tried to go to the entrance, but were caught by the back of your shirt when you got too close to the platform that sat at the beginning of the cave. A stern look from the Phoenix cemented that it didn’t want you leaving. 

“Please? I just want to sit in the sun. I can’t escape - where would I go?” you pouted. You really weren’t going to try, there wouldn’t be a point. The pirates had taken their boat and you had no doubt that the Phoenix would find you and gobble you up if you disobeyed. 

The Phoenix trilled softly, which you took for acquiescence. You gave it a bright smile as thanks before slowly walked towards the patch of sun at the entrance to the cave, sitting in the center to warm yourself up. Its eyes remained trained on you as you continued doing nothing but this time feeling the breeze off the ocean. It seemed that the Phoenix didn't mind if you were sitting by the main entrance to the cave but it didn’t want you to leave. It was sometimes difficult to guess what the Phoenix was feeling or thinking but it was able to make this pretty clear.

Sitting in the sun was warmer but still uninteresting. You were trying to find ways to pass the time - so you began cleaning. Yes, it was a cave full of bones and soot and dirt - but you were used to the bones and you preferred a tidy environment, thank you very much. You spent some time organizing the supplies Thatch brought before deciding to sweep. You’d seen bones under the Phoenix too - you’d want to clean those out as well, if he let you.

After a while you realized you were humming to an old, familiar song - the first one that had turned you on to the Soul King, actually. There wasn’t anyone around besides the Phoenix, who was watching you with amusement. So despite your fear of public singing, you started singing “Binks’s Sake” as you picked up various human bones and threw them into a pile. Some were kind of interesting and you idly wondered who had been there before you and if someone new would be looking at your own bones soon.  

After a few more minutes of soft singing, you paused and silently examined a particularly long femur - only to hear the Phoenix trilling back to you. You spun in surprise to face the Phoenix, who continued to watch you clean. The Phoenix's call was harmonious, almost lulling, as it continued the song you’d been singing. It cooed the last few notes you’d sung, as if asking you to continue.

“Oh, um. OK. I just - I don’t normally sing for anyone,” you stammered, a blush rising on your cheeks. You hadn’t thought it was listening that closely to what you were singing. The Phoenix repeated the notes again - it obviously wanted to continue.

“Alright, I’ll, um, I’ll try,” you hedged, picking up the femur again. You started the song at the beginning, the Phoenix joining along with you in perfect harmony. It wasn’t that you were good at harmonizing, it was. A smile had the corners of your mouth quirking upward as it continued the lilting tune. The two of you sang together until the end of the song, the Phoenix rewarding you by chirping loudly after the conclusion of the last note. 

For the first time in your life, you didn’t feel self conscious singing in front of another being. You could think of a few reasons way. First of all, your audience was a giant bird. Secondly, it was probably going to kill and eat you in the next few days. Thirdly, Marco didn’t seem to be any closer to coming out or communicating with you, so really, what was the harm?

You spent quite a while happily singing with the Phoenix while you continued to work. It has an impressive ability to mimic, understand, and improvise. By early afternoon you’d run through your repertoire and taught it nearly all the Soul King songs you could remember. It had shuffled around as you cleaned and sang, allowing you to clean the edges of the cave and standing up to allow you to clean under it. Sweeping took a long while since you had to kind of whip the debris out with some leftover sacks instead of having a proper broom, but it didn't seem to mind. You cleaned as quickly as you could while under it, you didn't want to be squished to death accidentally. It had also made you take breaks for snacks, taking away your "broom" and handing you food and water like before. You ate the hard bread and cheese while continuing to hum "New World."

After you were done, you wiped your sweaty forehead on the back of your arm, taking stock of the now cleaner cave. It looked much better and now you could be eaten alive in peace. A squawk had your eyes snapping to the Phoenix, who was not enjoying the early afternoon. It had been docile while you were cleaning and singing but now if you were to guess it's feelings, it was agitated.

The Phoenix wing’s were nearly all singed now, the char working its way from the tips towards its mantle. It was an interesting phenomenon, the embers glowing a deep blue rather than the orange-red of normal fire. You frowned and approached it slowly, as if it was the spooked animal and not you. It was going to go through a rebirth cycle sooner rather than later, you thought, based on the rapid progression of its body turning to embers. The embers had spread exponentially, reaching its mantle under your watchful eye.

“Hm, I know this is a part of your life cycle, but I can’t imagine it feels that great,” you said sympathetically. Even though it was a gigantic mythical creature and also a billion Beri pirate, your heart couldn’t help but feel empathy for the poor bird. You stuck out your bottom lip as your fingers twitched to touch it. You weren’t sure if it would hurt you or not, so you kept away. The Phoenix tilted its head with curiosity and slowly spread its wing so you could get a closer look.

“Are you safe for me to touch?” you asked, your fingers raised again. It nodded and you extended your hand to touch the tip of a primary feather, where it had been singed the longest. Touching the glowing embers was a surreal experience - the sensation didn’t match the concrete features you could see with your eyes. The embers felt like touching a tingly cobweb, or a fog so thick you could reach out and grab it. But there was also a firm wing under your hand, the feathers not unlike those you’d seen before in a much smaller form. It was more ethereal than the solid form you’d rested against the night before.

“You really are a very interesting bird, I hope you know. Of course, your plumage is gorgeous, but the amalgamation of the best of the bird world isn’t something I’ve seen before, not to mention all the mythological features. I would love to study you for an extended period of time,” you remarked. The Phoenix looked proud and ruffled its feathers for you, pulling a giggle from your mouth.

“Yeah, yeah, don’t let it get to your head,” you said with a roll of your eyes. There wasn’t much to do after cleaning, so you sat back down near the mouth of the cave. After another half an hour or so watching the far off waves, you stood up and dusted your pants off. You were going to treat this like a vacation, you thought. A weird, deadly, mythical vacation that you did not sign up for, but a vacation nonetheless.

It was time to smoke and chill the fuck out.

Reaching into your pocket, you grabbed the baggy you’d gotten back from Fire Fist and pulled it out. Shaking it, you saw you had a decent amount, but if you’d known you’d be taken hostage you would have brought more. Regardless you didn’t have any papers to roll with and there wasn’t any paper in the items Thatch had left behind.

But there were apples.

You hastily started making an apple bong after grabbing a small knife off the table, your hands moving with practiced muscle memory. It didn’t take long for the bong to take shape, looking not too bad for not having made one in over a decade. Filling the top with weed, you looked around for something to light it with, already knowing what you’d have to use.

“Light me up,” you demanded of the Phoenix, holding out your apple. It snorted and averted its head. You huffed, annoyed that now it wasn’t interested in helping you.

“I know you can, I don’t think all those people were healed to death,” you snarked pointedly. The Phoenix chuffed but remained unconvinced, curling its neck to rest its head on its body. Fuck that, the stupid bird would help you get high one way or another, you weren’t gonna let it ignore you.

“Oh, you don’t think you can make a fire this small? Is that why you won’t? Too difficult?” you questioned, making your eyes as wide as they would go. The only way you’d ever gotten Rob Lucci to see you was by encouraging his competitive side, talking loudly about how Jabra’s health was absolutely perfect, how no one could be in better shape by measurable metrics. Maybe a similar idea would work for the Phoenix - or maybe it was just the weakness of the male ego.

The Phoenix’s head whipped to you and trilled as if in affront. It took in a deep breath and blinked slowly before extending its wing to you. At the very end of the tip of its wing was a tiny red ember, perfect for lighting up. 

“Thank fuck,” you sighed with relief, touching the bowl to the bud before taking a deep inhale from your homemade bong. You took a few more deep rips, smoking from an apple not as smooth of an experience as you 2,000 Beri bong, but you’d also had worse. Wanted posters did not make good rolling papers. The Phoenix cooed and closed its eyes slowly, which you guessed was its method of rolling its eyes.

“If you wanna lecture me that smoking is bad for my health, save your breath. You’re a doctor too and based on the pictures I’ve seen of Marco there’s no way he doesn’t smoke,” you said, blowing a cloud of smoke from your mouth. 

“You want some?” you asked the Phoenix, who was watching you again. It tilted its head as if in interest. “Not sure he gives any to you,” you mused, turning the apple in your hands. The Phoenix made a clicking sound, as if it was now impatient. 

“Jeez, ok. I’ll um, hmmm. I’m not sure how to - I’ll shotgun you,” you declared decisively, more confident now that you weren’t as stressed. “I’ll inhale some and exhale it to you,” you explained. The Phoenix lowered its head as if you were doing it a favor and waited. You took the biggest hit you could manage from the apple, held it in for a moment, and gently blew the smoke into the Phoenix’s face, trying to aim for where you saw its nostrils were. They weren’t easy to see, but you prided yourself on being a good vet. You’d get that bird high, no matter what. Maybe it would chill the bird out as well, or help it feel a little more comfortable while it burned. It was an interesting thought - maybe you'd do research on the effects of weed on Zoan devil fruit users - with a lot of hands on experimentation.

The Phoenix gave you a contemplative look but didn’t move back to its former position, so it must have liked it enough. You repeated the process a few more times before smoking your fill. You got up to put the apple back on the table and meandered back into the cave. Making a bold move, you ambled up to the Phoenix and sat down with you back against it, not unlike how you’d slept the night before. You didn’t say anything and neither did it, as you felt every one of your muscles finally relax after…only one day of tension. How the fuck were you going to last until Thatch and Ace came back?

The thought flitted by as you started watching the transition of the Phoenix from its normal plumage to its singed form. Watching the waves of fire on the Phoenix was hypnotic, it reminded you of watching wind running through fields of wheat. There was no doubt in your mind that it was burning faster than ever. If you had to guess, it would be completely charred by late afternoon or early evening. You laid your head back on the Phoenix and closed your eyes.

Life on the Grand Line was an adventure.

You ended up taking a short nap on the Phoenix. It didn’t wake you this time, you realized as you rubbed your eyes, coming to after what felt like hours. After you woke up, it shook itself out and sidled to the front of the cave. You watched with interest - if the Phoenix left, maybe you’d have a chance for escape or at least a few minutes to yourself. The Phoenix turned to you and put its massive beak in front of your face, snapping it once. You shivered as the sharp edges of its mouth loomed in front of you while the Phoenix gave you a withering look. The message was clear - it was going to leave, but you were supposed to stay put. 

“Alright, alright. I got it - I’ll be here,” you said, waving it off. You’d grown more comfortable with the bird, you didn’t think it was going to bite your head off over a little sass - it hadn’t been turned off by your sparkling personality yet. The Phoenix closed its eyes into a half lidded expression, almost seeming to smile. It lept off the edge of the cave, diving down below. You weren’t worried exactly, but you did peer over the lip of the cave just in case - only to see the Phoenix soaring upwards, its gaze trained on you.

You’d never seen anything so breathtaking.

It flew in circles while tracking you with its eyes, as if to make sure you were watching. It didn’t need to though, you couldn’t have taken your eyes off of it if you tried. Its blue flickering flames mesmerized you as it glided through the sky, its teal plumage a beacon of pure beauty. The blazing teal was accompanied by sooty black smoke that came off its charred wings and body, giving an ominous aura to the already threatening animal. By now the overwhelming majority of the bird was charred, perhaps exacerbated by its flight.

You watched it soar lazily through the sky, wishing not for the first time that you could soar among the clouds. You sighed dreamily as it did a loop in the sky before returning in front of the cave. What a life that would be, you thought, to be able to fly away from any of your problems - no limits as you soared through the air, your only limitations your physical ability…you wished you had your paints with you to capture its beauty.

Turning in a circle back towards you, the Phoenix flapped its massive wings rapidly as it gracefully landed, the soot from its flight making you cough as it blew in your direction. The Phoenix’s head immediately dipped to your own, inspecting you closely with its unnerving teal eyes.

“I’m good, I’m good. Just a lot of smoke in the air,” you said, covering your mouth while you coughed. The less time you spent in the wings of the Phoenix the better - you wanted to avoid whatever protective instincts were activating within it. 

Which didn’t prove to be possible since just a short while later, the Phoenix fed you dinner handing you rations from what Thatch had left. Unfortunately, unlike breakfast when it handed you the entire pouch of water, this time it would hand you only a piece of food or the skein of water with its beak and take it back when you were done drinking. The Phoenix would only pass you more food when you’d finished chewing the last bite, making the feeding process much longer. Even though it was annoying, you were thankful it wasn’t feeding you like a baby bird at the very least. 

You watched as the sun set over the waters, enjoying the lovely evening as the Phoenix kept offering you more food. It kind of reminded you of how animals would eat a lot before scarcity, or a time when they’d have to use a lot of energy. But maybe it just didn’t know how much a small human would eat, you thought with a shrug. Marco himself was seven feet tall or something like that and Zoan devil fruit users had to eat a ton to maintain their energy and forms.

After you’d finished eating and staved off the Phoenix from force feeding you anything else, it slowly limped farther back into the cave. It's drooping wings and shuffling gait showed its lethargy. By now there remained only one bright blue spot on its body, just over where its heart would be. The rest of the bird looked like a living ember, but instead of a pulsing red, teal was emanating from within the sooty, cracked flesh. It was disconcerting to see the embers glow and burn brighter as the bird breathed, sooty layers growing by the second over its body. The Phoenix settled itself into the farthest back corner of the cave, curling in on itself as its fire continued to burn out. 

Your mind shrieked that you were in danger but the vet in you had you slowly approaching the Phoenix with your hands up. Its piercing gaze watched you approach but didn’t stop you, closing its eyes as you reached out to put a hand on its charred body like you had earlier in the day. Logically you knew it would be fine, this was its natural cycle that it had completed many times as per Thatch. But you couldn’t stop yourself from wanting to help. You laid your forehead on its body as you ran your hands over it, trying to offer it some kind of comfort in a trying time. It trilled softly but after a few minutes it gently shooed you away with its now charred beak, giving you space for once. You frowned as you went to go sit by the entrance to the cave, feeling impotent as you watched an animal in pain.

You sat down as far away as you could while still inside the cave to mull over recent events. Sitting in the still warm evening sun, you tried to rifle through your memory about Zoan Devil Fruits to see if there was something you could do to help. You were forgetting something key, something big, you were sure of it. Something to do with transformations and awakenings…

A burst of flames and a high pitched shriek had you gasping and looking back at the Phoenix. Instead of the nearly dead embers you’d been patiently watching before, there was now a full house size pyre in the back of the cave. The pragmatist in you was worried for potential cave collapse or the more likely outcome that you'd be burned alive, but realistically the fire wasn’t even hot at close range. A huge explosion of blue fire had you shielding your eyes with your arm, unable to bear witness to the Phoenix as it changed forms.  

As you took cover it finally dawned on you, the realization striking you like lightning. A mate. That’s what allowed Zoan users to awaken their fruits - they needed to find their one true mate. That's why Zoan users had one of the lowest rates of awakening - the mate had to be compatible for both the Zoan and human sides. You’d skimmed over that section in the texts, disinterested in the process of their mate finding and only in the results of awakening. Your mouth hung open as the blue fire raged inside the cave, the flames now lapping only a few feet away.

The Phoenix wanted to mate you.

Scrambling to your feet, you made a mad dash for the exit of the cave in an attempt to flee before the Phoenix caught you. Maybe it would be vulnerable or weak during its transition time and you’d be able to make a hasty getaway. You weren’t going to be the mate to the Phoenix or Marco or anyone else in there. A bright blue wing suddenly sealed off your exit from the cave. You squeaked as you skid to a halt and fell down on your butt, scraping your hands against the rough floor of the cave. The Phoenix peered down at you as flames lept from its body to your own, your scrapes immediately healed. 

“Why do you run, little mate?” a curious voice wondered inside your head. It didn’t take a genius to know that it was coming from the Phoenix, even if hearing the deep sonorous voice without your ears was disconcerting. It was glorious in its new form, no longer black and charred, but a deep, vibrant blue from head to talon. It blazed continuously, pulsing with vitality as you cringed backwards from the stunning display. There was no doubt in your mind that it was stronger than before, but you didn't want to find out by how much. Even you with your lack of fighting training could feel the raw power ebbing off the beast.

“Y-you can talk?” you asked, trying to buy yourself time and space away from the creature. 

“I can do that and much more, mate,” it murmured seductively, watching you with half lidded eyes. It was folding its wing slowly back to its body, and you along with it.

“I’m not your mate, we’re not compatible like that,” you bluffed, raising your arms to protect your face.

“We are fated mates - we are compatible in all ways. Put down your arms. I would not harm you, especially not when I’ve waited so long to find you,” it scoffed as it folded you against its body. You tried pressing your hands against its chest to create some space but the creature was pure muscle and wasn’t giving you an inch to wriggle away.

“The v-vessel? Marco? He’s in there? Can he come out?” you asked, now cringing away as the Phoenix’s beak came close to your neck. Since being reborn it had changed to a smaller size - you guessed it was around 10 ft tall now - but that was still almost double your own height.

“Such a smart mate, you don’t need me to tell you, hm? Of course he’s here - he pretends he is unhappy about this outcome but he is as pleased as I. it bothers him that you were taken against your will, but it was not I who stole you, yes? The vessel enjoys the same pastimes and finds you both physically appealing as well as mentally stimulating. He cannot emerge now, not until I am sated, but he agrees that you are a perfect mate for us,” the Phoenix replied.

Fucking great. Marco, a Whitebeard Commander you’d never met, liked you back. Amazing, the perfect meetcute, you thought sarcastically. Your mind snapped back to attention as the Phoenix closed the gap between you, its head dipping down to look you in the eyes.

“I’m - I’m sorry, I don’t - I don’t want to be your m-mate,” you hesitated, the fear clogging your throat making it hard to get the words out.

“Then why did you participate in the courting, dear mate?” it purred, smugness radiating from it. “You cleaned and prepared our nest, slept on my body, were fed by my hands, sang your sweet warbles with me, shared your wares, even came to me in my time of need. One might mistake that for affection, no?”

“I - I…” you didn’t really have a reply. You had done those things, willingly even. You just didn’t think it would end by being mated to a mythological creature.

“You observed my transformation hasten with your arrival - I even waited to claim you until I took a smaller form so as not to hurt you. Do not worry, you will be unharmed, save for the claiming. But I cannot wait much longer - I grow rabid for you.” It husked, moving its head back once more. It took a step backwards, creating a small amount of space between you. The Phoenix was toying with you, you realized with a start, it already had the outcome set in its mind.

“Now we begin the ritual,” it said, gently pushing you onto the stone floor of the cave with a wing. You fell onto your hands and knees and quickly turned to face it. You tried to crawl backwards as it loomed over you. Your breath came quickly, as a cold sweat ran down your back.

“Wh-what ritual?” you asked, not bothering to keep the panic from your tone. It took a step closer, closing the gap between you. Your back hit the cave wall - there was no where else to go. Looming over you, it leaned down to press its forehead against your own like you'd done earlier, fiery blue blazing in your peripheral vision.

“The ritual so that I may Awaken.”

Thank you to @sordidmusings for the idea that if they hold off on the claiming until after the transformation, they're super rabid for the mate.

Taglist: @mfreedomstuff @rebeccawinters @ratchetprime211 @starsandshht @unknown-y-person @radiantnico @starrlo0ver

[brandileigh2003]

Older wolfstar fic recs: (older in age that is)

let me know what I missed and self recs are welcome (also as always check tags for each one to protect yourself)

~~~please give these authors love, fandom engagement with writers is down and it means more than you know. ~~~

**And I know older is relative term bc most of these wolfstar are in their 30s I do believe. But. They have more life experience than in Hogwarts or uni so I counted it.

--orange juice (i've been ready for you to come home for so long) by raggedypond: @fortunatelyfuzzywombat divorced parents of teddy with one bed at his graduation

-Honey If I'm Not by @brigid-faye divergent post war where remus left, jily lived, and wolfstar only reconnects years later by chance. (Also has a Sirius pov)

---used my best colours for your portrait by @littleoldrachel lie low at Lupin's with flashbacks exploring remus' life

-Looking for Moony by Writer_INFJ_2w1: meet and fall in love birthday party

-Flight of Destiny by @lucigoo lesbian wolfstar meet on plane (Luci also has several others where they're older and lots of beautiful fics

--Aging Gracelessly by orphan_account: texting fic

--the mayors of simpleton by fruity_individual divorced wolfstar get back together, raising teddy

-Second Generation by MsAlexWP single parents, getting back together. The sequel is so perfect too! It's a Nice Day for a Wolfstar Wedding

-the sea is a good place to think of the future by peachyybabe (second in series is mcd but this one is open ending)

-Of Memories and Milk Thievery by moonymoment raising teddy, get back together

--Birthday Blues by YouBlitheringIdiot @blitheringmcgonagall :Sirius is turning sixty and he is appalled...

--Give Quarter to Old Men - @krethes series

--dear your holiness by mollymarymarie

--The Postwar Chronicles by @sliebman10 post canon series

-Vigil Strange I Kept by whitmans_kiss explores effects of lycanthropy

--ten reasons (to go to michigan) by @greyeyedmonster-18 remus headed home, trying to move on from divorce

--Prettiest Star Verse by Raging_queer

-I didn’t sign up for this by Moonystoastandmarsbar divorced wolfstar

-Of Protein Powders and PTAs by @squintclover and @tracingpatternswrites rivals to lovers

-An Infinte Ocean by orphan_account raising teddy strangers to lovers

--The Road Not Taken by @mollymarymarie

-extra credit by MsAlexWP rivals to lovers

-Baby On Board by aqua_myosotis

-Of Memories, Bitter and Sweet by MsAlexWP memory loss

**luci's recs

-my love, take care of yourself by littleoldrachel

-How to romance a guy with (terrible) poetry by BayleyWinchester

-Teddy Plays Matchmaker by grow_as_we_go

-The Front Step Surprise by R33sesPieces

**Recs from others** (I haven't read all these yet but wanted to include)

--Just what the doctor ordered by WrappedUp (be aware there is age gap)

--The Lab by de_sire again an age gap

-Till We Have Arrived Home Again by prouvairing divergent post canon raising harry

-The Patchwork of Us by TracingPatterns

-The Things I Did by Lolo_row

-The Phoenix Agency by LupinsChocolatePraline

-The Fall by EuripidesTrousers

-Pages of You by wolfpants this is drarry main but apparently background wolfstar is really good

-Just Like Heaven by the_prettiest_w0lf_star: mechanic Sirius and librarian Remus

-soloorganaas

-impishtubist

---new additions--

•too busy being yours by peachyybabe ft deaf remus and fluff

***Self rec***

--Memories of You: mcd exploring memory loss

--Through the Years: Sirius thinks about the past and how handsome his husband is while holding their granddaughter.

--DN(R): Lie low at Lupin's era where they discuss decisions Remus made in the lost years.

•Silver fox fluffy 1 shot

**also- the wolfstar librarian is always a great resource make sure to give some likes on posts: 30yo and Up part 2 Bring Black Back Back from the Veil Lie Low at Lupin’s Post Azkaban Grimmauld Place

--Feel free to check my other rec lists, as well as the rest of my fics

--also ... This is list of canon divergent fic recs: post-azkaban, bring back black, lie low at lupins. Lots of same fics but I might not have all in both places.

[roosterforme]

Pink Christmas Part 2 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley just wants to make Christmas special for your daughter, and he's nervous he might have blown his cover as Santa. As Christmas Eve approaches, he pulls out all the stops for the two of you. But will you let him give Ellie everything from her wishlist?

Warnings: Fluff, language, single mom reader, mentions of loss of spouse

Length: 7000 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female single!mom Reader

Pink Christmas masterlist. Check out my masterlist for more! Banner by @mak-32. Written for @bellaireland1981 Winter RomCom Challenge

Once you started kissing Bradley, everything came back to you. Fingers in his soft hair, your body pressed to his, and his tongue softly caressing yours. You knew just what to do, and you didn't want to stop. When his big hands came to rest on your back, you couldn't even remember why you'd been nervous in the first place.

Your thumb found the rough stubble and slightly raised scars on his cheek at the same time you heard your front door knob rattling. When you pulled away from Bradley's lips, you looked up at his handsome face and smiled, completely distracted as your daughter let herself inside. You pulled free from Bradley's warm embrace just as you heard Ellie ask him, "Who are you?"

Bradley licked his lips as he examined your face with his pretty brown eyes. Then he turned his full attention to your child. "Are you Ellie?" he asked, and when she nodded and set her backpack down, he reached out to shake her hand. "My name's Bradley. I'm a handyman from the North Pole."

"A handyman?" she asked, shaking his hand firmly. "What does that mean?"

"Means Santa sent me here to set up your pink tree, because he got a little busy this week," he replied so smoothly, you almost believed him yourself. 

Ellie gasped and looked past him into the living room. "Santa got my tree!" she gushed. "Mommy!"

"Yeah," you replied with a laugh. "Santa really knows what he's doing."

Bradley looked at you with a little bit of a blush coloring his face, and you were shocked to find that you instinctively wanted to reach for his hand and kiss that pretty shade of pink on his cheeks. You barely managed to stop yourself as he took a step toward you. 

"That was close," he muttered, watching Ellie run her hands along all of the ornaments that she could reach. But you were still busy looking at him, because his response to your daughter was what had you melting inside. He had a soft smile on his lips as he laughed. "I think she likes her tree."

You rubbed your fingers along the back of his hand, and his gaze met yours immediately before falling to your lips. "I think so, too."

He nodded toward the door. "I should go," he said slowly. You didn't know how to tell him that for some reason you knew your house would feel too empty if he left right now. When Ellie spoke up, you could have hugged her for her brilliant idea. 

"Mommy, is Bradley allowed to stay for pizza?"

You let go of his hand as Ellie came back over with one of the pink heart ornaments. Then you and she both looked up at him as he asked, "Am I allowed to stay?" He looked a bit like a wayward puppy as he added, "I love pizza."

Your heart swelled at the idea of him in your house a little longer, maybe sharing a few more secret touches. "Of course you can stay."

Ellie reached out and took him by the hand, dragging him toward her playroom, and he went willingly as she asked, "Do they have pizza at the North Pole? Which one of Santa's elves is your favorite? I liked Phoenix the best, but I liked grumpy Hangman, too."

Her voice faded as she rambled on, and you could hear Bradley laughing. Then you were alone in the pink glow of the tree as it grew darker outside, and you took your phone out to order pizza just like you always did on Friday nights. But for the first time in a long time, you couldn't stop smiling. 

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

"I've never played dolls before," Bradley said as Ellie picked one up to brush its hair. 

"That's okay," she replied, handing him a different doll. "I'll show you how. It's not really that hard. Just brush her hair and make her look pretty for the party we're taking them to."

Bradley grunted and picked up one of the toy brushes. "I think I can handle that."

A few minutes later, he was very into coordinating which outfit his doll was going to wear to the birthday party they were going to be attending. "How does this look?" he asked her, and she handed him a pink ribbon. 

"She needs a bow in her hair."

"Right," he muttered, and he tried a few times, but his fingers seemed to be too big to get it right. 

As he was struggling with it, Ellie paused what she was doing and said, "You seem really familiar."

"Do I?" he asked cautiously, still fighting the bow and hoping she didn't immediately realize that he was in fact Santa Claus. 

She was quiet for a beat before she said, "I think you remind me of my dad." Bradley's eyes met hers, but she didn't look sad or upset, just resigned. "He was good at dolls, too. But not tying the bows."

Then Bradley felt your hand on his shoulder as you said, "Do you need a hand?" He nodded and passed the doll to you, watching as you made it look so easy to tie the perfect bow. "Pizza will be here soon," you said softly, handing the doll back to him. 

"Thanks," he whispered, still surprised by your daughter's words. Somehow it didn't make him feel nervous or weird to be compared to your late husband. But it did come with a sense of responsibility of sorts. He already ordered Ellie her pink art kit, but he found himself just wanting to spend time with the two of you. The kisses had been one thing, but playing dolls and eating pizza seemed natural as well.

When the food arrived, Bradley hopped up and tried to pay for it, but you'd already put it on your credit card. So he snatched your wallet out of your hand and pulled tip money out of his own for the delivery guy. And if he was able to get his arms around you in the process and press a soft kiss to your cheek, it was just a bonus for him. Then he watched you cut a slice of pizza in half for your daughter as you tried to hide your smile from him. 

"Where did the flowers come from?" Ellie asked, pointing at the big bouquet and the smaller one. 

"Santa sent them with me," he replied, picking up the small one so she could smell them. "He told me that you and your mom both like pink."

"Santa knows everything," she said as she nodded, and Bradley smiled down at her. "I want to eat by the tree," she insisted when you handed her a plate and a juice box. 

"Yeah," Bradley agreed as he picked out some slices of pizza. "Me too." So you handed him a juice box as well, and he followed Ellie back to the living room with a smile. The three of you sat on the floor in a little circle next to the tree, and Bradley regaled the two of you with made up stories about the North Pole. Ellie was in stitches, and you bit your lip every time she laughed, your smile absolutely infectious. 

Bradley ended up eating Ellie's pizza crust as you cleaned up the plates, and he knew it was time for him to leave. It was late. But he was nervous he wouldn't see you before Christmas Eve when he planned to come by as Santa. 

"Mommy, can Bradley come back and look at Christmas lights with us?"

You paused as Bradley stood up next to the pink tree, and then you said, "Ellie, I'm not even sure where to go for that in San Diego."

"I could ask Santa," Bradley blurted out. "I'm sure he'd know the best spots in any city to see Christmas lights."

"Yeah!" Ellie agreed. "Santa would know!"

You only hesitated for a second before you said, "Only if it's not going to take up too much of your time."

Bradley patted Ellie on the head and said, "I can make time for that. Let me get back to the North Pole and ask Santa where the best lights are. Thanks for teaching me how to play dolls." Then he met your gaze and said, "And thanks for the pizza."

"It's our pleasure," you told him, echoing his own words from the other day. 

He swallowed hard; the urge to lean in and kiss you was so strong. He fought it though, because he knew he had another excuse to see you both again soon. Then he forced himself toward the door. "I'll be in touch," he promised, and when he opened the front door and stepped out onto the porch, he noticed Ellie's gaze settle on his Bronco, a look of curiosity on her face.

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

You were a mess the rest of the weekend, texting Bradley late into the night on both Friday and Saturday after Ellie was in bed. You found yourself continually peeking at the selfie he sent you like a kid trying to find their Christmas presents early. He was just that damn good looking.

More importantly, he was sweet. He had invited you and your daughter to join him on a drive down to Imperial Beach to look at lights on Tuesday night, and of course you'd immediately agreed. 

Ellie and I wouldn't miss it.

Bradley 'Santa' Bradshaw: I'll pick you up at six. I already have a little treat for the ride.

You giggled and flopped down on your bed, eyeing your wedding photo across the room. "I really like him," you said out loud with a grin. Then you texted Bradley back.

What kind of treat?

He must have been holding his phone, his response came that quickly.

Bradley 'Santa' Bradshaw: Something pretty and sweet, just like you. I absolutely can't get you off of my mind. Not that I'm trying very hard.

"Okay," you said out loud, finding it easier to give yourself a little pep talk when he got you flustered like this. "You can do this. Be cool."

I thought you looked cute in your Santa beard, but your real mustache is even better.

There. Flirtatious but not too much. A solid response. You gave yourself a little pat on the shoulder. But then he upped the ante just a tiny bit by sending a selfie of him blushing. You groaned, because his mustache was immaculate, and you wanted to get your lips all over his cheeks and see if you could make his blush deepen.

Bradley 'Santa' Bradshaw: I've been thinking about our first kiss on repeat. When Santa shows up on Christmas Eve, are you going to kiss him, too?

You laughed as you texted him back.

Yes. I think I have a crush on both of you.

Then you got yourself into bed, knowing it would feel like a very long wait for Tuesday night to arrive, but you fell asleep with a smile on your lips when he wrote back.

Bradley 'Santa' Bradshaw: Then I feel doubly lucky.

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

It was honestly a good thing you had so much to do for work, because it took your mind off of your nerves. But when Tuesday evening finally arrived, your hands were shaking as you tried to get ready in front of your bathroom mirror. You kept looking at the most recent text in your thread with Bradley, and it was bringing out your anxious energy. It was a simple message with a photo attached, but now you were second guessing everything. 

Bradley 'Santa' Bradshaw: I hope I look good in pink.

He did. He looked fantastic in his pink and black floral print shirt. That wasn't the issue. It was your daughter's words echoing through your mind as she stood in the bathroom doorway that had you rattled.

"Hey, Mommy? Is Bradley going to be your boyfriend?"

You looked at her as you tried to put on some lip gloss. "Do you want him to be?"

"Maybe," she replied, eyes narrowing a bit. "I just need to do a little more research and make sure he's the one I asked for."

You almost laughed. You would have if you weren't so nervous. "What kind of research? And what do you mean the one you asked for?"

Ellie just shrugged in response. "I'll take care of it. You look pretty, Mommy."

Your throat felt tight as you swallowed against the thing that was really bothering you and whispered, "If Bradley ever does become my boyfriend, he's not going to replace the memory of your dad. Understand?"

Ellie nodded and sighed sadly. "I understand. But you said he's not coming back."

"He's not," you confirmed softly. The sharp, stabbing pangs of sadness had dulled a bit over time, however you still felt one now. But you'd also spend days doing some soul searching over the fact that you knew you were attracted to everything about Bradley. You didn't feel as hesitant around him as you thought you would after losing your husband. After more than a year alone with Ellie, you felt like this could be something.

Then your daughter helped you push your thoughts aside as she said, "Bradley was pretty good at playing dolls, and I could teach him how to be even better. And he looked like he was good at holding your hand."

"Oh," you gasped, setting your makeup aside. You didn't think she'd seen that, but she didn't seem upset in the least about it. "Yeah... he was good at it."

"Is it almost time to go look at lights?" she asked you just as your doorbell rang.

"Oh god," you groaned softly, butterflies and unidentified nerves erupting inside you. What if you did something stupid tonight? What if you didn't even know what to talk about?

"He's here!" Ellie called as she ran for the front door with you right behind her. And when she swung the door open wide, there he was in his pink shirt with a bright smile on his face and two, oversized pink candy canes in one hand. 

"Hey, Ellie," he replied easily as she beamed up at him. Then he looked at you and his smile faltered a bit. He swallowed, and it took him a few seconds to greet you. When he did, it was just one raspy word. "Hi."

"Hi," you replied softly, and the butterflies were still going wild, but the nerves were replaced with longing. "Bradley."

Ellie was reaching for the candy canes, and he patted the top of her head, but he was still looking at you. "Hi," he repeated, and you couldn't help but laugh. "See, talking to you in person is way better than texting, even though you take all the thoughts out of my brain and all the words out of my mouth."

You ducked your head to the side and covered your embarrassingly large grin with your hands as Ellie asked, "Are these for my mom and me? Santa's usually the one who brings us pink treats."

"Oh," Bradley replied, "well, these ones are from me. I hope that's okay. I saw these fancy candy canes at the North Pole sweet shop and thought of the two of you."

Ellie was already unwrapping hers, and Bradley held the other one up right in front of his chest with a grin, coaxing you closer. "Thank you for the treats. And for taking us to look at lights," you said, letting your fingers meet his as you took your candy cane. 

"It's my pleasure."

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

Bradley didn't know really how booster seats worked, but you moved one from your car to his Bronco, and then Ellie climbed in. 

"Are we ready to look at lights?" he asked as he started the engine. 

"Yes!" she replied from the backseat. "Did Santa tell you the best place to go?"

"He absolutely did. And he remembered that you liked pink, so I'm thinking there might be a special surprise for you."

"Special surprise?" you asked from next to him in the front seat. It had been so long since he'd had even one passenger let alone two. When your fingers came creeping across the leather seat, he reached for your tentative hand and held it tight in his. 

"It's a surprise for you, too," he promised, hoping you had no idea what the grand finale of the drive through light show was going to be. 

You laced the fingers of your left hand with his right, and Bradley had to take a calming breath. He hadn't felt this strongly about someone in a long time, and he just met you. But his brain had already been filling in the blanks of how good it might feel to be around you the longer he got to know you, because the chemistry was definitely there. 

He glanced at your profile at a red light and reached with his left hand to turn on the radio to the station that was playing Christmas music. Then he pulled your hand a little closer to him as the light turned green, and he could see you smiling out of the corner of his eye. "How's that candy cane?" he asked Ellie, glancing in the rearview mirror. 

"Good! It tastes like cotton candy."

"Do you like cotton candy?" he asked, noting you were still holding your treat in your right hand.

"All kids like cotton candy!" Ellie squealed with a laugh.

"I like cotton candy. Does that make me a kid?" he asked her as he turned left toward the beach, the darkest streaks of pink and purple running along the horizon behind the setting sun.

She giggled in delight and so did you. "No, you're too big," Ellie told him. "Nice try."

"Harsh," Bradley muttered as he made another turn, and then the enormous light display along the beach came into view. "Okay, here we are." He turned your way as he pulled up to the kiosk to pay, saying, "I'm going to need my hand back."

You immediately pulled your hand away from him and hurriedly said, "No problem," as he reached for his wallet. 

He chuckled and said, "It's coming right back to you once I pay, so don't get too comfy."

"Oh, I can pay!" you tried to insist as you scrambled for your bag on the floor by your feet, giving Bradley enough time to hand over some cash and pull through the gate toward the light displays. 

"Absolutely not," he said as you gave up and tossed your bag back to the floor. "Now where did your hand go?"

You turned to look at him before glancing back at Ellie who was mesmerized by the lights all around the Bronco. "Right here." And then Bradley felt your hand slip into his grasp where it already felt like it belonged. 

"That's better."

He barely took his foot off the brake pedal to keep coasting forward behind the car in front of him, and he hummed along to the music on the radio. Ellie's commentary from the backseat was pretty amusing with her occasional interjections of "Frosty!" and "Rudolph!" 

The light display was massive, and there was a long line of cars in front of them, which was great. Bradley didn't want to rush taking the two of you back home again. Especially not when you leaned in a little closer to him and whispered, "Thanks for this. She's having a great time."

Bradley came to a stop in front of a lit up display of ice skating penguins and turned to face you. "So am I. Been having a pretty great time since I met the two of you."

You whimpered, and Bradley squeezed your hand a little tighter as he fought the desire to lean in closer and kiss you. Then you whispered his name, and he nearly lost the battle. "Bradley. Are you still going to want to see us after Christmas?"

When he opened his mouth to tell you he wanted to see you every day, Ellie gasped in the backseat. "It looks like Santa's sleigh!"

Bradley turned to face forward, and sure enough, Santa's sleigh was just ahead, and the other cars had started to move up as well. "Sure does," he replied to her as he coasted forward so she could see. Now you were looking at the lights as well, and Bradley watched all the colors dance across your face. When you tilted your head to look at him, he said, "I'm going to want to see you as much as you'll let me."

A soft smile curled along your lips as he kept moving the Bronco forward. You didn't respond, but your fingers laced with his again, and Bradley could feel your thumb stroking along his. He took that as a pretty good sign, and then you and Ellie both started to laugh at the same time.

"Hey," Bradley said when he saw them, too. "A bunch of pink flamingos for my two pink loving girls."

"I love them!" Ellie gushed, clapping her hands as Bradley pulled up between two light displays of hundreds of flamingos wearing Santa hats. "So much pink!"

Then your lips were on his cheek before brushing back toward his ear, and he had to stop the Bronco again as your hand grazed his knee. "This is the best," you laughed softly. 

If you wanted to, he'd bring you both back tomorrow and the next night and the night after that. He wanted to watch your face illuminated by the pink lights as you bit your lip and smiled. He wanted to hear Ellie's laughter from the backseat while she sang Jingle Bells. 

Bradley moved the Bronco as slowly as he could so you could enjoy the flamingos for as long as possible. Then he drove through fake snow being blasted at all of the cars which somehow made him feel like he was back in Virginia again.

"I do not miss the snow," you told him, cradling his hand like you did this all the time. He very carefully pulled back out onto the road using one hand, because the last thing he wanted was to let go of you. 

"But Mommy, what if it's snowing at the North Pole?" Ellie asked. "How will we visit Bradley?"

Shit. He didn't know what to say, because he didn't want to confuse her or mess this up. "Maybe after the busy holiday, Santa will let me spend a little more time in San Diego so you don't have to brave the snow again."

Ellie hummed skeptically from the backseat as Bradley wound his way back through the neighborhoods on the outskirts of the city. "Yeah... that might work," she replied. "I'm going to have to stay up on Christmas Eve and have a conversation with Santa."

"I'll remind him to bring his A game," Bradley muttered. "Now let me drop the two of you off since you still have school tomorrow."

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

You watched Bradley lift Ellie out of his Bronco, and then he moved her booster seat back to your car for you. When he walked both of you up to the porch, he had his hand at the middle of your back, his fingers teasing at your waist in the cool, night air. When you approached the front door, however, he knelt down in front of Ellie and asked, "Did you have fun?"

"Yes!"

"Should I tell Santa that was a good light display?"

"Yes!"

"Did you like the flamingos?"

"So much!" Then she flung her arms around his neck and said, "Thank you." The fact that your daughter seemed perpetually happy around this man whether he was dressed as Santa or just being himself had you nervously wiping your palms along your jeans.

"You're welcome. I'll see you soon?" he asked, patting the top of her head as he stood, eyeing you as he asked the question. 

"Yes," you answered quickly as you opened the front door. You paused once Ellie walked inside, and you turned toward her. "Start getting ready for bed. I'll be up in just a minute."

"Okay. Bye, Bradley."

"Bye, Ellie," he replied with a laugh, but you were already pulling the door closed, leaving you and him alone on the porch together. 

"Hey, I had a great time-" he began, but you cut him off when you lunged for him. You couldn't help it. Bradley caught you in his big arms, and wrapped you up tight against him as he grinned. "-with you tonight."

Your fingers were tangled in his soft curls as your lips mashed against his, but even with you pressed right up to his body in desperation, he was a gentleman. His hands were splayed across your back, rubbing up and down, slowly bunching the fabric of your shirt.

"Me too," you promised between kisses, nodding slightly as you nibbled on his lip. He hummed softly as your hand drifted down to the back of his neck, and he deepened the kiss. His tongue tasted sweet, and you felt beautiful and desirable when you were with him.

But you broke the kiss and whispered, "I need to get Ellie in bed."

"Right. Right." He was still holding you close, still slowly rubbing your back with his hands. And then you kissed him one more time, because you needed to. It was soft and perfect just like Friday when you helped him decorate the tree. "I'll see you soon," he whispered as his nose grazed your cheek.

You felt your whole body tingle as he pressed one more slightly rougher kiss to your lips before turning back to his Bronco. You had to fight the urge to chase him down for more, waving like an idiot as he pulled away instead. There were just a few more days until Christmas, and you wondered if it would be too forward of you to tell him that he's the only thing you wanted for yourself this year.

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

Bradley took a deep breath as he pulled on his red flight suit and grabbed his matching hat and white beard. It was getting late for Ellie to still be awake, but you'd promised him it was okay to stop by around 9:30. He wasn't quite sure what to expect, but he hoped she was still excited to see Santa. 

With Christmas music playing and wrapped gifts on the front seat, Bradley spent the drive over trying to decide how to explain to your daughter that he was the same person when he was dressed as Santa and when he was just himself. Just Bradley. And then he started to get antsy. Just Bradley. He didn't have much to offer to either of you. Just a guy who occasionally got deployed and suddenly liked the color pink.

When he parked in front of your place, he sat for a minute, afraid he was going to do or say the wrong thing. If Ellie still believed in the magic of Santa Claus, he didn't want to take that from her. He glanced toward your front window and saw movement. The two of you were dancing in front of the lit up pink tree, and a smile found its way to his face. 

"Just be Santa," he said out loud, snatching up the presents and closing the door behind him. 

With his beard and hat securely in place, he knocked and immediately heard Ellie squeal. "It's Santa! I just know it!"

And then she was there, swinging the door open so quickly, Bradley was surprised it stayed on the hinges. "Merry Christmas," he greeted, getting the wind knocked out of him by the five year old launching herself at him and by how cute both of you looked in your matching pink snowflake pajamas. 

"Santa!" Ellie gushed, reaching for his hand to lead him inside. "We made you some heart shaped cookies with icing!"

"I love that," he replied, but his eyes were stuck on you. Bradley could just tell you'd welcome a kiss from him right now, and he wanted to give you one, but instead he followed you over to the tree.

"Cookies and some hot chocolate," you told him, picking up a plate of sweets and that same mug he drank from last week. "Just for you, Santa."

Bradley set down the presents, including the art kit filled with every shade of pink paint anyone could possibly want. That's when he noticed that instead of eating the pink candy cane he gave you on Tuesday night, you'd hung it on one of the tree branches. He was already smiling when he saw the little box with a gift tag next to his boot that said "TO: SANTA. FROM: ELLIE."

"This is for me?" he asked, bending to pick it up. 

Ellie nodded, looking up at him hopefully. "I made you something."

"Well then I'm sure I'll love it," he replied. 

He was just starting to unwrap his gift when Ellie turned toward you and asked, "Mommy, would it be okay if I talk to Santa alone for a minute?"

Bradley's fingers stilled as you nodded and softly said, "I'll just go sit on the steps." You bent to kiss the top of Ellie's head before smiling softly at Bradley, and then you were gone. And he was alone with a child who was eyeing him with such curiosity, it made his heart beat a little faster.

Ellie tugged on his hand until he was kneeling, and then she leaned in a little closer. Bradley felt like he was under a microscope as she examined him, but then she smiled. 

"You were a very convincing fake Santa. But after you brought the tree over, I knew it was you right away, Bradley." 

"You did?" he asked, heart plummeting as her words washed over him. If he just ruined Santa Claus for this adorable little girl, he didn't know what he'd do with himself. 

"Yeah. I figured out that you were the same guy since both Santa and Bradley drive the same car and have the same voice."

Oh, shit. His eyes went wide as she pulled his beard down below his chin and smiled at him. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I didn't actually intend to lie to you about being a North Pole handyman."

"I know," she said, taking his gift from his hand and opening it up for him. Inside the box were two Christmas ornaments. They were made out of construction paper with popsicle sticks glued to look like pictures in frames, and there were ribbons attached to the top so they could be hung. 

"Ellie," he whispered, taking them both out of the box to inspect them more closely in the soft, pink light. She'd taken the time to draw pictures on both of them. The first one said ELLIE and had a well drawn F/A-18 and some elves along with a pink candy cane and three flamingos. The other ornament said SANTA and was complete with pink flowers, a pink tree and a picture of a man. "Is that supposed to be me?" he asked her softly.

"Yeah. But just you, Bradley. Not really Santa."

"Thanks," he muttered, not sure how to tell a five year old that this was perhaps the best gift he'd ever received in his adult life.

But now she was standing with her hands on her hips. "I need to know what happened when you went to talk to the real Santa after the air show. And don't lie to me this time."

"What do you mean?" he asked, heart beating faster again.

"Since you got permission to dress as a pretend Santa for kids like me at the air show, you get to sometimes talk to the real Santa Claus, right?"

Oh. Maybe he hadn't completely fucked this up after all. "Of course. That's how it works when you get chosen to be a Santa representative."

"Yeah," she said, nodding like a CEO closing a business deal. "That's what I thought."

"You're a very smart kid," he told her with a smile, but clearly she wasn't quite finished with him yet. 

"So? What happened when you talked to him? Did Santa know you'd be perfect? Is that why you kept coming back to our house to see my mom?"

"Perfect?" he asked cautiously.

She grinned at him as she said, "Yeah. The perfect boyfriend for my mom. The one I asked for."

Bradley was speechless. That's what he wanted to be. Your boyfriend. Maybe more than that someday. His eyes roamed Ellie's face, so innocent in the way she still believed there was magic here. But maybe there actually was. "Yes. That's exactly what happened, Kiddo. I went to meet with Santa, and I told him what was on your wishlist. And I told him how important it was that you got everything you wanted since you're always on the nice list."

She clapped her hands and bobbed up and down. "And he knew you'd be the perfect boyfriend?"

"Yeah," Bradley said, throat tight with emotion. "He knew I'd fall for your mom and you and the color pink and just all of it."

She hugged him tight, and he scooped her up and hung both homemade ornaments on the pink tree. "Merry Christmas," she whispered.

"Merry Christmas," he replied. "Think it's okay if I talk to your mom now?"

She nodded, and he carried her to the stairs where you were sitting with your own mug of hot chocolate waiting for them. "You ready for bed, Ellie?" you asked, looking between your daughter and Bradley with his beard down below his chin with some concern. 

Then Ellie kissed his cheek and said, "Goodnight, Bradley," as he set her down on the steps next to you. 

"Night, Ellie," he replied, and he watched her kiss you too before climbing the stairs and going into a room that was lit by the soft glow of a nightlight. And then you and he were alone, and you were sliding over to make room on the step next to you.

Your hesitant smile made him a little lightheaded as you asked, "So she knows you're Santa from the air show?"

He chuckled softly. "Something like that. But don't worry, she still knows that the real Santa exists. She's got quite the imagination."

"Yeah, I don't think I'll ever have to worry about that," you replied, setting down your mug and reaching for his hand. It was the easy way you laced your fingers with his once again that spurred him on. You were grinning as he leaned in to kiss you, his white beard tickling your chin. "Hi, Santa," you whispered against his lips, and he just knew this was how it was supposed to be.

When he pulled away from you with a smile of his own, he said, "There's something I need to tell you. About the day we met."

Your brow creased in concern, and he leaned in to kiss you there as you asked, "What about the day we met?"

He wanted to be delicate with you and take his time. It's what you deserved. You and Ellie both. But he also wanted to once again make his feelings crystal clear for you. "That first day, at the air show... when I took Ellie up to sit in my jet, she asked for a pink tree and an art kit with pink paint." Bradley paused, stroking his rough fingers along your soft cheek before he added, "But she also asked Santa to bring a boyfriend for you."

You gasped. "She did? My five year old asked Santa to bring me a boyfriend?" You buried your face in your hands and groaned softly. "That's so embarrassing."

Bradley gently peeled your fingers away from your face as you grimaced at him, but he just laughed. "It's not embarrassing. It's sweet." He waited until you were looking at him again, even though you were nibbling on your lip a little anxiously. "And the thing is... somehow, I think it's supposed to be me."

When your lips parted on a soft sound, your face looked hopeful, and Bradley squeezed your hand as you barely whispered, "You?"

"Yeah. Me," he told you with a little laugh. "I'm nothing special, but I'm hoping you'll let me give Ellie everything she wants for Christmas?"

You slowly climbed onto his lap and wrapped your arms around his neck, your eyes bright and sincere. "You want to be my boyfriend?"

"Desperately," he promised. "And I'm not trying to replace Ellie's dad, and we can do this at whatever pace works for the two of you. But I think this was meant to be."

And then you were smiling against his lips and kissing him as he held you on the steps. You laughed as you pushed your fingers through his hair, sending his red hat down the stairs followed by his beard.

"Then I guess Ellie can have everything from her wish list."

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

One year later....

"The tree looks beautiful," Ellie said, hanging up the two ornaments she made last year as you and Bradley each sipped mugs of hot chocolate. The pink Christmas tree stood tall and proud in the same spot it had occupied until February, when you finally convinced her it had to come down after Valentine's Day. 

Bradley had gone overboard, perhaps even more so than last year, coming home from work a few hours ago on Christmas Eve with more pink ornaments for your daughter to add to her collection. 

"You're spoiling us," you told your boyfriend, and you watched a grin bloom on his lips. But maybe you were spoiling him back just as much. This year, you and Ellie had on matching pink pajamas covered in gingerbread cookies, and Bradley had coordinating pants to wear with his white undershirt. It felt good to have him here, like he was always meant to step in when he did. 

"I love spoiling you," he whispered, taking your empty mug and collecting you in his arms. "I love spoiling both my girls."

You and he took things slow at first. He spent the night with you last Christmas Eve, his limbs tangled up with yours in your bed. But your clothing had stayed on, and his lips never went further south than your neck. After that, you fumbled your way through a few dates with him; sometimes Ellie joined the two of you, and sometimes she stayed with Bradley's best friend and former elf, Natasha. But you quickly learned that you hadn't forgotten how to be with someone intimately. All you needed was the right someone who would let you realize that for yourself.

Bradley moved in with you a few months ago, and you hadn't looked back. He was becoming an expert at playing dolls with Ellie, and he made both of you so happy, sometimes your face hurt from smiling so much. He wasn't a replacement, and he wasn't an improvement, but he was something you knew you couldn't live without now.

"Hey, I almost forgot," he murmured. "I grabbed two more things on my way home today. I'll be right back." 

When he left the living room, you walked over to Ellie and kissed the top of her head. "I'm really happy we got Bradley for Christmas last year," she said, making you laugh.

"Me too. It's a good thing you asked Santa to bring him for me."

She looked up at you with wide eyes and a little smirk. "Just wait until you find out what I asked for this year."

You looked down at her with an amused smile. "What did you ask for this year?"

But she was distracted now as Bradley came back in with a soft smile on his lips and two small pink boxes. He knelt down in front of Ellie and handed her the bigger one, giving her a kiss on the cheek. "Merry Christmas, Kiddo," he whispered.

"Merry Christmas," she told him, and when she opened the box, you gasped. 

"Bradley."

He got your daughter a rose gold necklace with a pink diamond charm, and Ellie squealed in delight when she saw it. "It's so pretty!"

"Just like you," he said, taking it out of the box and clasping it around her neck. She wrapped one hand around the charm and smiled as Bradley turned to look up at you. "I got something for your mom, too."

At first, when he handed you the smaller box, you were convinced it was a necklace to match Ellie's. But then you met his eyes, and you knew it wasn't. Your heart was racing as you looked at him, fingers shaking with anticipation as he said, "I love you. So much. The last year with you has been magical, and I want to be here forever."

You glanced at Ellie, and she was all bright smiles as she bounced up and down as you opened the box. "Oh," you gasped, because it was the prettiest pink ring. And it did match her necklace.

When you looked up from the box and met his eyes, he asked you something that you already knew the answer to. "Will you marry me?"

"Yes!"

You held the box tight as he stood and spun you around the room in his arms, his soft laughter filling your heart as Ellie loudly cheered, "I asked Santa for a husband for my mom!"

You laughed as Bradley smothered your face in kisses, and then he pulled the ring free before tossing the box aside. As he slid the rose gold and pink diamond ring onto your finger, he grinned and said, "Santa never disappoints."

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

Happy holidays! I hope Santa Bradley brings you everything from your wishlist! Thanks @mak-32 @beyondthesefourwalls @thedroneranger @cherrycola27

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[rafayelxsylusho]

The land of no return Part 6

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

"You handled it so well"

Zayne

A month had passed since Zayne had last seen her face. Every day felt like an eternity, each moment a torture as he yearned for her, ached for her touch, her smile, her laughter. He had lost count of the number of times he had stood outside her apartment door, his hand raised to knock, only to hesitate and walk away, knowing he had lost any right to intrusion.

But today, as he stood across the street from the café where he knew she would be, his heart raced with a different kind of anticipation. He watched her, a vision of beauty that stole the air from his lungs and set his pulse pounding in his ears. She was radiant, no, she was more than that. She was more than the sun breaking through the clouds on a rainy day, more than the full moon illuminating the night sky after endless nights of darkness. She was what men had gone to war for, what poets wrote sonnets about, what artists painted masterpieces to immortalize.And he was prepared to go to the ends of the earth, to wage his own personal war, to win her back and never let her go again.

She was wearing her favorite dress, that simple sundress with the little white flowers, the one that always made her eyes sparkle. Her hair was up, tied back in a messy ponytail, a style he had always loved, had always thought made her look younger, carefree and oh so inviting.

He watched as she walked towards the café, her head held high, her steps confident and sure. She was stronger now, more resilient, a phoenix rising from the ashes of a shattered love.

The sight of Dr. Elijah already waiting for her, rising to greet her with a smile that was far too familiar and a kiss that was far too close to her lips, shattered his fragile peace like a sledgehammer through glass.

He had always prided himself on his self control, his ability to maintain a cool head in even the most trying of situations. But this... the jealous rage coursing through him was a wild, untameable beast, one that threatened to destroy him entirely if he didn't act on the fury burning in his veins.

He couldn't watch anymore, couldn't bear to see her laughing with another man, her smile bright and genuine in a way that it hadn't been for him in a long time. She looked like she once had with him, a memory that sliced through his heart like a knife, twisting the blade and wringing every last drop of anguish from his soul.

"You know, it's kinda creepy to watch her like this"

He knew that voice, a voice always ready with a cutting remark or a biting observation. Slowly, he turned to face Rafayel.

"It's not creepy, I'm not doing anything wrong. I have every right to be here, to see with my own eyes that she's okay."

Rafayel raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips as he looked Zayne up and down, taking in his appearance and the desperate look in his eyes. "Right... I think the word 'wrong' is subjective these days. But stalking your ex girlfriend on a date with another man? Yeah, I'd say that's pretty damn creepy."

"Watch it," Zayne warned "You don't know anything about our relationship or what we've been through."

But even as he spoke, Zayne knew that Rafayel was right. Stalking her like this, watching her with another man, was a violation of the boundaries she had set.

"I know enough," he replied, his tone mocking and condescending. "I know that you fucked up, and epically at that. And now you can't handle seeing her moving on without you."

"You..."

"Listen, man, you need to go. Like, now. It's not a joke," Rafayel said, a note of seriousness entering his tone for the first time. "She's trying to move on, to put your relationship behind her. If she catches you spying on her like this, it's only going to set her progress back. So do us both a favor and get the hell out of here before you make things worse for yourself and for her."

Without saying another word to Rafayel, Zayne turned on his heel and walked away. Each step felt heavy, his feet weighed down by the leaden ache in his heart. He couldn't bear to look back, couldn't bring himself to witness the sight of her laughing and smiling with another man, not when those smiles and laughter were no longer his to cherish.

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

"Once upon a time, someone built me a house and when I felt it my home, he closed the door and burned it with me inside."

Y/N

Your monthly check up with your cardiologist was a day you had been both anticipating and dreading.

When you received the notification that Dr. Zayne had taken over your care again, along with the care of all the other patients with Protocore Syndrome, a chill had run down your spine. You had tried to keep Dr. Elijah as your cardiologist, had even gone so far as to have a serious talk with the hospital's director about the situation, but it was to no avail. The decision had been made, and now here you were, sitting outside Dr. Zayne's office.

You see him walk out of his office, his eyes meeting yours briefly before he calls out your name. A flicker of unease runs through you, but you push it aside and follow him inside.

Taking a seat in the chair across from his desk, you try to calm your nerves, taking deep breaths as you watch him settle himself behind the desk. He looks... okay. Tired, perhaps, with dark shadows beneath his eyes that speak of sleepless nights and a heavy workload. But otherwise, he appears to be the same Dr. Zayne you've always known, professional, competent, and entirely focused on your care.

The appointment progresses smoothly, with Zayne asking about any new symptoms or concerns. You answer his questions honestly, trying to maintain a sense of detachment and distance, even as a part of you aches for the connection and intimacy you once shared.

But then, without warning, Dr. Zayne leans forward, his eyes searching as they meet yours. "Y/N, I need you to sit over here so I can check your heartbeat."

You move slowly, hesitantly, the short distance between your chair and Dr. Zayne's seeming to stretch out endlessly. Each step feels like a step closer to a precipice, a line you're not sure you're ready to cross. As you settle into the chair beside him, you can feel your heart pounding in your chest, a rhythm that betrays the nervousness and unease coursing through your veins.

He watches you, his eyes unreadable as you take your seat. He doesn't comment on the flush of heat that rises to your cheeks as you sit close to him. But you know he's noticed, you can feel the weight of his gaze, the way his eyes linger on your face for a moment too long before he looks away.

You sit in tense silence as he retrieves his stethoscope and try to take a deep breath, to steady yourself, but your lungs feel tight, constricted by the tension that hangs heavy in the air between you.

He places the stethoscope against your skin, and you can't help but flinch at the sudden contact. The cold makes your skin prickle, but it's the warmth of his fingers, the lingering touch of his fingers against your skin, that makes your heart skip a beat.

He listens, his brow furrowed in concentration, his eyes closed. The seconds stretch out, each one an eternity as you feel his focus centered solely on you. And in that moment, a part of you longs to reach out, to trace the lines of his face, to feel the roughness of his jaw beneath your fingertips. But you don't. Instead, you sit there, barely daring to breath.

His eyes flutter open, and you stare into the depths of his green eyes. 

"You need to breathe properly. Taking shallow breaths like that will only make your heart beat faster."

You take a deep shaky breath and force yourself to keep eye contact with him, but instead of the warmth and comfort you once found there, you feel only a bitter, twisting sensation in the pit of your stomach. 

You hate his face, hate every perfect feature that once made your heart race and your knees weak.

You despise the way his dark hair is just long enough for you to imagine grabbing it, holding on tight as you pull him closer. The memory of running your fingers through those strands, of tugging lightly as you lost yourself in the heat of passion, makes your hands clench into fists at your sides

You hate those thick, dark eyebrows that curve in a way that makes your heart ache with the memory of tracing their shape with your fingertips.

You hate his nose, a nose that you once thought was the most handsome feature on his face. You hate the way it leads down to his lips, lips that you know can kiss with a skill and intensity that sets your body on fire. Lips that can make you forget your own name, that can reduce you to a needy mess with a single touch.

You hate his perfect jaw, a jaw that you once loved to rest your palm against, to feel the rough stubble of his beard against your skin. You hate the way it clenches and tightens as he listens to your heartbeat, a heartbeat that he once claimed to love more than his own.

Most of all, you hate his broad shoulders, shoulders that you know can hold the weight of the world, that once held you safe and secure in their protective embrace. You hate the way his white coat stretches across his chest, hinting at the lean muscles and toned abs that lie beneath. Abs that you once traced with reverent fingers, marveling at the strength and power of his body.

So as you sit there, hating every perfect, infuriating inch of his face, you feel a bitter laugh bubble up in your throat. Of all the cardiologists in the world, of course you would be stuck with him.

"Don't worry, doctor," you say, your voice dripping with sweetness that belies the bitterness churning in your gut. "I'll make sure to breathe properly. Wouldn't want to give you the wrong impression, now would I?"

" What are you..."

You cut him off mid sentence, your voice sharp and biting as you snap, "Is that it, Dr. Zayne?"

Without waiting for his response, you stand abruptly, the chair scraping loudly against the floor. You take a step towards the door, desperate to put some distance between yourself and the man who still has the power to unravel you with a single glance, a single word.

But before you can escape, before you can flee the tension of this room and the memories it holds, his voice stops you in your tracks. "Do you love him?"

You know what he's asking, know the unspoken implication behind the words. He wants to know if you've moved on, if you've given your heart to someone else, if you've forgiven and forgotten the way he shattered you into a thousand little pieces.

A laugh escapes your lips, a sound devoid of humor or warmth. "That's none of your business, doctor," you reply "My personal life is not something I have to discuss with my cardiologist."

"Please answer my question"

You turn around slowly, a cold, hard edge to your movements. Your eyes lock with his "You left me," you say, your voice accusatory as you point a finger at your own chest. "You. Left. Me."

You enunciate each word, as if to drive the point home, to remind him of the cruel, unforgivable choice he made.

"Don't think for a second that you get to be angry, or demand answers, or have any right to care about who I do or don't love." Your voice rises with each word "You lost that right when you walked away, when you abandoned me, when you promised to love me forever and then disappeared without a trace."

Tears sting at the corners of your eyes, but you blink them back, refusing to let them fall. You won't let him see you cry, won't give him the satisfaction of knowing that he still holds the power to hurt you, to make you feel.

"You. Left. Me." You repeat the words, a mantra of pain and betrayal "So don't you dare stand there and act like you have any right to know the intimate details of my life."

"Just because I left doesn't mean I didn't hurt"

"Why can't you just let me be?" you ask, your voice shaking with frustration and anger. "I was moving on. I was trying to heal, to forget, to build a new life without you in it. Isn't that enough for you?"

"Do you love him?"

Your pulse pounds in your ears and you're certain he must be able to hear it too" Will you walk away and leave me alone if I tell you that I do?"

You don't wait for him to answer, unable to bear the weight of his gaze any longer. The words "I do" fall from your lips like a dagger, sharp and biting, a declaration that cuts through the tension of the room.

Without hesitation, you turn and walk out of his office, The sound of the slamming door echoes behind you. When you reach the elevator, you press the button with a shaking finger and the doors slide open with a soft ping, you step inside collapsing back against the mirrored wall.

Only then, in the isolation of the elevator, do you allow yourself to crumple, to let the tears run down your cheeks, because it was all a lie. The man you love, the man who still owns your heart and holds the key to your happiness and your destruction, is the one who let you go. The one who walked away and left you to pick up the shattered pieces of your life on your own.

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

"Once the heart gets too heavy with pain, you don't cry. You just turn silent, completely silent"

Y/N

From the very first moment you met him, he possessed an uncanny ability to read you, to peer into the depths of your soul and lay bare the secrets you tried so desperately to keep hidden. You remember the countless times you tried to deceive him, to put on a brave face and pretend that everything was alright.

Like the time you took a tumble during soccer practice, scraping your knee raw and bloody against the ground. You had tried to brush it off, to laugh it off as a silly mishap, hoping that Zayne wouldn't notice the way you limped and winced with each step. But he had known, his eyes missing nothing as they flicked down to your injured knee, his brow furrowing with a concern that made your heart ache in a way that had nothing to do with pain.

And the countless nights you stayed up past midnight, your eyes straining and bleary as you tried to finish the mountain of homework that seemed to pile up endlessly. You had tried to convince him that yes, of course you had finished it all, that you were on top of your studies and doing just fine. But the knowing look in his eyes, the way his lips twitched with a barely suppressed smile, told you that he saw right through your lies.

Even your silly teenage crush hadn't been safe from his perceptive gaze. Him, with his messy hair, crooked smile and his kind, gentle demeanor, had captured your heart in a way that made you feel nervous and alive. But when you had tried to play it off like it was nothing more than a fleeting fancy, Zayne had looked at you with a soft smile that made your cheeks flush and your heart race.

He had always known. Always. And yet, even with that knowledge, you had still foolishly hoped that you could hide your true feelings for him. That you could bury them deep, lock them away in a dark corner of your heart and pretend that they didn't exist.

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

"Feel the pain until it hurts no more"

Zayne

He knew that she was trying her hardest to move on. He could see it in the way she laughed a little too loudly at the man's jokes, in the way she leaned into him just a bit too closely, as if seeking comfort, warmth and a sense of belonging.

The pain that lanced through Zayne's heart as he watched them was unbearable, the sickening sight of her lips pressed against Elijah's. The way she tilted her head, the softness of her eyes as she gazed up at him, the gentle curve of her smile... it was a kiss he knew intimately, a kiss he had once claimed as his own.

Because he knew, damn it, he knew how to kiss her like that. He had spent countless nights exploring the contours of her mouth, learning every dip and curve, mapping out the path that would make her gasp and shiver and cling to him with needy hands. He knew the exact pressure to use, the perfect balance of softness and demand, the way to coax her lips apart with the gentlest brush of his tongue.

He also saw the subtle but unmistakable way she sought the ghost of his touch in every brush of their mouths.

But more than anything, he wanted to go to her, to pull her away from the man whose touch was a pale imitation of his own, and to show her, remind her, of the way he used to kiss her. He wanted to claim her mouth with his own, to pour every ounce of his love and longing and regret into a single kiss that would leave no doubt in her mind of the way he still felt about her.

Because of that Zayne found himself resorting to desperate measures, turning to vices he had once hated, in a futile attempt to dull the constant ache of losing her. The burn of alcohol, once foreign and unwelcome on his tongue, became a bitterly familiar companion. It didn't take much to make the pain fade, to blur the edges of his grief until he could almost convince himself that he was fine.

But the reprieve was always temporary, the harsh light of sobriety always crashing down on him like a cruel awakening.

When that didn't work he threw himself into his work, spending countless hours at the hospital, operating on patients, pouring over charts and test results, anything to keep his mind occupied and distracted.

His patients didn't suspect, they couldn't see the way his heart ached, the way his soul felt like it had been ripped in two. To them, he was the same Dr. Zayne, competent and professional. But she... she always looked at him like she was searching for something.

He knew she saw through him, knew that she could read the pain in his eyes, the way it lingered there like a shadow that refused to dissipate. It was a silent communication, a wordless conversation that passed between them in the moments when they were alone.

So this...

This was foolish impulse, driven by the liquid courage that had slowly chipped away at his inhibitions and his better judgment. He told himself that he needed to see her, to talk to her, to beg her to give him another chance. He blamed the alcohol for the impulsive thoughts that raced through his mind, the desperate plans that he had no business entertaining.

The door swung open, and there she was, her dark hair disheveled from sleep, her eyes heavy and half lidded as she blinked up at him in confusion. She was wearing a thin, worn t-shirt that had once been his, the fabric clinging to her body in a way that made his mouth go dry and his heart ache with painful longing.

"Zayne?" she murmured, her voice thick with sleep and a hint of something else, something that made his name sound like a question, a plea, a prayer.

He couldn't speak for a moment, his throat tight and his tongue feeling too big for his mouth. He had imagined this moment a thousand times, had played out a thousand different scenarios in his mind. But now, faced with the reality of her, faced with the way she looked at him with those sleepy, confused eyes, he found himself at a loss for words.

"I... I couldn't..." he managed finally, his voice rough and raw, a painful rasp that betrayed the emotional turmoil that racked his body. "I needed to see you...I need to talk to you"

Her nostrils flared slightly as she inhaled, catching the unmistakable scent of alcohol that clung to Zayne.

"Are you...drunk?"

"A little bit," Zayne admitted, his words slurring slightly around the edges. He knew it was a weak excuse, a pathetic attempt to justify his presence on her doorstep at this ungodly hour. 

"Did you drive here?"

"No. I'm drunk, not stupid. I took a cab here."

She sighed, a soft, weary sound and hesitated for a moment, her hand still gripping the door, as if warring with herself over whether to let him in or not. But in the end, the old habits won out over common sense and caution. "Come in," she said finally, stepping aside to allow him entry into her apartment.

Zayne stepped inside, his eyes taking in every detail of the familiar space, a space that was once a sanctuary for both of them, a place where they had shared so many moments of love, laughter and passion. But now, it felt different, foreign and bittersweet.

He turned to face her, his hands shoved into the pockets of his pants "I didn't mean to scare you," he said "I know I shouldn't be here..."

"I'll call you a cab, just wait here" she turned to leave, her bare feet padding softly on the hardwood floor as she began to walk back towards her bedroom. But he stopped her, his hand gently but firmly grasping her wrist, the warmth of his touch sending a traitorous shiver down her spine.

"Wait," he said, his voice heavy with emotion, a desperate undercurrent to the single word. "Please, just... wait."

"I'm sorry," he began, his words pouring out of him in a rush, as if he feared she would slip away from him if he didn't say everything he needed to say. "I'm sorry for the way I hurt you. I'm sorry for everything that led to this. And I get it, if you hate me..." He paused, swallowing hard, his jaw clenching as if the next words were the most difficult he had ever had to say. "But I wanted to let you know... that even when I was completely fucked up, I never once stopped loving you."

"Zayne..."

Zayne's voice dropped to a whisper, "Don't give me your love, sweetheart," he said, his fingers tightening slightly around her wrist, not enough to hurt, but enough to keep her close, to anchor her to him. "Give me anything. Give me the tiniest fucking piece of you. Give me the shreds, all the broken pieces you hate. I don't care how small, how meaningless they might seem to you. I'll take anything you give me, and it will always be enough."

"That's enough Zayne..."

"I left because I thought it was the right thing to do," he explained "I needed to protect you. I couldn't bear the thought of hurting you"

She listened, her own eyes glistening with unshed tears as she searched his face, seeing the sincerity and the anguish etched into every line and plane. "Long distance would have been hard," she said softly, her voice trembling slightly, "but we could have done it. We could have made it work, if you had just let me stand by your side, through whatever you were facing."

"I know my love..."

She took a step back, pulling herself from Zayne's hold, her eyes flashing with a sudden, painful anger. "Don't come here and call me those names," she said, "as if the last two years did not happen. As if you didn't walk away from me, from us, without a backwards glance."

Zayne's hands fell to his sides, his expression crumpling with a fresh wave of anguish. "Oh they happened, believe me, I had to live through every single agonizing day without the person I love, without the person who makes my heart beat. Every morning I woke up and reached for you, only to remember that you weren't there, that I had pushed you away." He inhaled deeply, his chest rising and falling with the effort it took to continue. "Not a day has gone by that I haven't regretted my decision, that I haven't longed to take back those words and beg for your forgiveness"

"So I'm going to do everything I can to understand where I hurt you," he declared, his voice ringing with conviction. "I'm going to lay bare every mistake, every misstep, and I'm going to work tirelessly to make amends. And then, my love, I'm going to bring you back to me, back to where you belong." His hands clenched at his sides, his body thrumming with the force of his determination.

She stared at him, her heart racing, her mind reeling. She searched his face, seeing the raw, unbridled love and the steely resolve in his eyes. But doubt and uncertainty clouded her own, a painful realization dawning within her. "What if... what if I don't want that anymore?" she asked softly. "What if, after everything we've been through, after the heartbreak and the pain and the endless nights I spent crying myself to sleep, I don't want to go back to the way things were?"

"You are always going to be mine," he murmured "and I'm always going to be yours. That's a truth that will never change, no matter what happens between us."

"Please don't say things like that," she said, her voice shaking as she fought back tears. "Why did you drink tonight, Zayne? Why come here, drunk and emotional, and tell me these things now?"

"Because alcohol makes me dream that you forgive me," he said "that you take me back, that you love me still. But then I wake up, and you're not in my arms like I dreamed, and the pain comes rushing back a thousand times worse than before." He paused, swallowing hard against the lump forming in his throat. "But even if it's just for a few moments, even if it's just in my head, for that brief, fleeting time... it's real. It's worth it. Because it's the only way I get to be with you anymore."

"You need to go, Zayne," she said, her voice flat and lifeless, a cold finality to the words that made them all the more devastating. "I don't love you anymore."

He could feel his heart splintering, the once strong organ now a tattered, bleeding mess in his chest. The pain was unbearable, a physical ache that threatened to bring him to his knees.

But even as his world crumbled around him, even as the woman he loved more than life itself rejected him, he found the strength to stand tall. He met her eyes, his own eyes now a stormy, turbulent sea of love and despair.

"It's ok, Y/N," his voice shook with the depth of his emotion. "I love you enough for the both of us."

She shook her head, tears now streaming down her face as she watched his expression crumble, his heart shattering before her very own eyes. "No, you don't..." she whispered, a choked sob escaping her lips.

Zayne just looked at her, his expression a heart wrenching mix of love, pain, and unwavering determination. "You are wrong," he said, "I love you, and I'm going to love the hell out of you for the rest of my life. And whether that love is expressed up close or from a distance... it's entirely up to you." He paused, his eyes boring into hers . "Your participation is wanted but not required. If necessary, I'll stand in the back of the room and love you from afar until my dying breath."

Zayne walked the short distance to her and leaned in close, his breath ghosting over her skin as he angled his head downwards. In a final, desperate gesture, he pressed his lips against her forehead. She froze, her heart stopping, her breath catching at the tender, bittersweet contact.

"You were everything I wanted and more," Zayne murmured against her skin, his voice a broken whisper "I promise you were... you are enough."

With those words, he pulled away, his fingertips trailing lightly over her cheek in a fleeting caress before he turned and walked out of her apartment, leaving her standing there, unable to watch him go.

[demie90s]

MASTERLIST PT.2

NAVIGATION (Much Easier)

MASTERLIST PT.1

{ WBB & WNBA IMAGINES }

(Pink & Black Edition🖤🩷)

{ l hate a weak!reader with y/n cringe moments. My readers never soft. They crash outs. We pissed. Nah I'm playing but enjoy}

~~~~~~~~~~~~~LSU~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Flaujae x You

• This ain't just a chain

→ She let you wear it once. Now it's yours. On your neck during warmups. In the studio. At press. The chain with her initial on it.

• Dirty South, Deeper Love

You’re a rising southern rapper from Baton Rouge, all iced grills and slow-burning confidence. She’s never touched a basketball, but she’s made a name spitting heat—and people keep comparing her to Flau’jae.

• Mics Up & Outta Pocket

• Mic'd Up & Outta Pocket Pt.2

~~~~~~~~~~~~~PHOENIX MERCURY~~~~~~~~~~~~

Diana Taurasi x You

• Tweets with Tequila and Don

→ You’re a little tipsy, a little too bold, and a little too obsessed with WNBA legend Diana Taurasi. One night, the tequila talks—and your Twitter fingers get reckless.

• Say Less, Pt.2

→ You weren’t born a prodigy. You were overlooked, counted out, told to try another sport before you even had a chance to believe in yourself. But when you came back, you came back different.

• Just Read the Line, Dee

→ You force a very grumpy, very confused Diana to do a TikTok trend.“we listen and we don’t judge”. Diana’s not feeling it—at first.

• Candy

Diana doesn't do TikToks. She doesn't dance. Doesn't act. Doesn't play around... until you came into the picture. Somehow, you convince her to do the "Candy Remix" challenge.

Britney Griner x You

Kahleah Copper x You

• Youngin

Natasha Cloud x You

• 2 Kills, 1 Vlog

→ You’re not a pro baller, but you’re hella known—YouTube, IG, TikTok, the works. And today? You’re linking up with your longtime “friend” Natasha Cloud.

• Soft Launch

→ Natasha Cloud is bold on court, loud on social, but private where it matters. You? You’re the reason.

• Whoop, There It Is

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~SEATTLE STORM ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sue Bird x You

• Not So Lowkey

→ You and Sue have been keeping things quiet. You’re a rookie, she’s Sue Bird, and no one needs the media or the team blowing things up. But one casual date night—hoodie, hat, sushi—and the WNBA internet loses its mind after someone posts a blurry pic.

• Control Issues

→ You’re a cocky, arrogant, mouthy star on the court—a guaranteed draft pick with an ego that stretches baseline to baseline. No one can check you, emotionally or physically. But then Sue Bird walks into your practice.

• Two Years Too Patient

→ You’ve been mentored by Sue for two years. Respectfully. Quietly. Obsessively. But tonight, after one too many looks and just enough skin, you stop pretending you can wait any longer.

• Dog Off the Leash

→ You’re the rising star in Indiana—raw talent, zero filter, always one comment away from a fine. Legends like Sue and Diana were only brought in to help “tame” you. First mistake. You don’t do tame.

• Mad For What

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~USC ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Juju Watkins x You

• Caught Slippin’ (But Make It Cute)

→ You’re that influencer—pretty, unserious, and always online. Thirsting over Juju Watkins for months on your socials, convinced she’d never actually see any of it.

• Whipped Doesn’t Even Cover It

~~~~~~~~~~~~U of I ~~~~~~~~~~~~

Caitlin Clark x You

• She’s Only Sweet to Me

→ You’re that girl—model-pretty, sharp-tongued, New York raised with a mouth that could make a ref cry. Caitlin’s the only one who gets a different version of her.

• Shameless Rivalry Part 2

→ It started with a viral interview. Asked for your top 5 celebrity crushes, you answered without hesitation—Paige Bueckers and Caitlin Clark, tied for #1.

• What You Need

You and Caitlin Clark share a dorm. She has a boyfriend—Connor. But you’ve been in her space too long, too close, too bold.

• Halftime Show

Kate Martin x You

• Quiet Meets Chaos

→ Kate Martin is the WNBA's soft-spoken sweetheart-talented, calm, and loyal to her routines. You're the city's most unfiltered "It Girl".

• She’s Not Me

→ Kate Martin’s doing her best to be loyal—to smile through the dinners, take the photos, and pretend she doesn’t hear your voice every time she closes her eyes.

• Sticky Finger Soft Eyes

~~~~~~~~~~~UCONN~~~~~~~~~~~~

Paige Bueckers x You

• That Doesn’t Stop the Show

→ You and Paige were a secret, quiet thing. But when things ended, they ended. You didn’t speak on it—not until the heartbreak turned into lyrics.

• She Got That Dog In Her

→ You’re known in the underground dance scene for tearing through freestyle battles like it’s personal. Paige is known for being one of the most composed players in college hoops. But when she shows up to your Red Bull-style comp and loses all chill…

• Call Her Guard(ian)

→ You’re used to attention. You’re famous, pretty, and constantly photographed—but not every kind of attention is wanted. One night out turns uncomfortable fast when some guy won’t take a hint.

• She Don’t Even Talk to Us Like That

→ The team’s doing a lighthearted post-practice video segment—favorite moments caught on camera. Until Paige pulls out a private video of reader singing to her while she’s half-asleep in bed.

• Shameless Rivalry

→ It started with a viral interview. Asked for your top 5 celebrity crushes, you answered without hesitation—Paige Bueckers and Caitlin Clark, tied for #1.

• Onto You

→ She’s Paige Bueckers—UConn’s golden girl. Lights follow her everywhere she goes. And me? I’m just a face in the crowd.

• Too Late to Love Me Right

• Legends and Lesbian’s

Azzi Fudd x You

• 10 Things I Hate About You

→ Everyone loves Azzi. She’s sunshine, discipline, pure gold with a jumper. And you? You’re the complete opposite.

Nika Muhl x You

• How Much Was It?

It starts as a joke TikTok trend. Nika mouths “So how much was it?” and you, the rich, soft-launching menace you are, casually reply “$15,000.” You try to keep a straight face. Really.

• Still Mad. Still Yours. , Part 2

→ Nika messed up. Nothing unforgivable-but enough to leave you quiet, closed-off, and ice-cold in your own penthouse. What she doesn't know is you forgave her the minute she apologized.

Kk Arnold’s x You

• Caught

→ You and KK have been dating on the low for months. Nobody knows. Paige— on live, bored and nosy—grabs the phone to go find you.

Whole Team x You

• Coach, I Swear It Was an Accident (It Wasn't)

→ You've been testing Geno's patience since the moment you stepped on UConn's campus. You're talented, unbothered, and just enough of a smartass to keep your scholarship hanging by a thread. But deep down, you're his favorite headache.

• I Don’t Know How to Wish Anymore

→ You’ve always been the glue—the light, the calm, the one who makes the team laugh and makes Geno’s life easier. But what they don’t see is how lonely it feels to be strong all the time.

• Where the Hell Is She?

→ Reader’s always around. Always clinging to someone, stretched out across a teammate’s lap, braiding hair during film. But today? She’s gone.

• Don’t Get Comfortable

→ During a joint scrimmage with another top program, reader shows out. Cool, confident, hitting shots like it’s nothing—and naturally, the other team starts noticing. Compliments turn to flirting. A few players get a little too bold.

• Dance Break, Baby

→ They did not know she could dance like that. When halftime rolls around and reader hits the court in full glam with a majorette squad or professional dancers at her back, the team loses their minds.

• Not One Damn Was Given

→ Reader throws hands on the court after a player body-slams her teammate. Fists fly. The team’s in shock. Hours later, reader hits IG Live and drags the other team with career-ending energy.

• She’s Always Been That Girl

• Halftime Unleashed

→ At halftime of a heated UConn game, the big screen surprises everyone by cutting to locker room footage of the women bonding.

• Bleed Blue…Literally

→ Everyone knew #17 was fine. What they didn't know— at first-was that she's covered in ink under that uniform.

• She Plays For Us

→ You are fine, flirty, and a little too good at everything-on and off the court. When UConn plays USC, things get heated fast.

• Micd Up & Outta Pocket

→ UConn vs LSU. The lights are bright, the tension is real-but #17 is focused on two things: Flaujae and Angel Reese.

• Pretty Hurts Until She Plays

→ Everyone thinks she's just the team's cheerleader with a jersey. Glossy lips, soft voice, and an untouched warmup suit. That is... until Nationals.

• More Then A Teammate

→ You’re the heart of the team. The one who always plays it cool-never too emotional, never too soft-but always there.

• Zumba Queen

→ During a chill team trip to the mall, reader mysteriously disappears—until Geno and the squad hear loud music find her leading a full-on Zumba class.

• Nationals Chaos

• You Can’t Take Her Nowhere

• Main Character

• Soft Spot

• Practice Wife

~~~~~~~~~~~~~LVA ~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sydney Colson + TP

~~~~~~~~~~~~~ DW ~~~~~~~~~~~~

Paige Bueckers x You

• Clear As Day

→ Paige hits her head, says she has a headache, and Coach doesn't blink. You've always been calm-quiet, focused, dependable. But Now?

• Front Row

~~~~~~~~~~~~~ NYL ~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sabrina Ionescu x You

[rootedinrevisions]

Cop Car: Part 2

SUMMARY: Jake has to endure the punishment laid out by Maverick for sneaking you into a restricted area on base. Of course the rest of the gang can't help but pick on Hangman for the not so special attention that he's getting from Maverick.

WARNINGS: None

WORD COUNT: 3.5K

TAG LIST: @omgbrianab I @shanimallina87 I @fanficmom94 I @smoothdogsgirl I @djs8891 

The next morning at training, the sun was already high and blazing over the runway. The pilots of the elite squadron were gathered around their planes, running pre-flight checks and prepping for the intense day ahead. Everyone seemed to be in their usual spirits—except for Hangman.

Jake stood a few feet away from his jet, his usual swagger noticeably absent. His jaw was tight, his eyes narrowed against the glare of the sun as he reviewed the day’s training schedule on his tablet. But it wasn’t the heat that had him on edge.

It was Maverick.

“Hangman!” Maverick’s voice boomed across the tarmac, the commanding tone unmistakable. “I don’t want to see one damn mistake from you out there today. You better bring your A-game or I’m grounding you until further notice. Understood?”

Jake nodded sharply, his face stiff as he saluted. “Yes, sir.”

Maverick’s expression didn’t soften in the slightest, his gaze hard as he turned away to address the rest of the team. Jake exhaled slowly, clenching his fists at his sides.

Phoenix, standing nearby, narrowed her eyes as she watched the interaction. “What the hell crawled up Mav’s ass?” she muttered, glancing at Bob, who shrugged with wide eyes.

“No idea, but he’s sure been riding Hangman hard all morning,” Bob replied, adjusting his helmet.

Payback, who was strapping on his gear, raised an eyebrow. “Maybe Hangman finally pushed him too far with all that cocky trash talk?”

Coyote chuckled, overhearing the conversation as he checked his plane’s wing. “Wouldn’t surprise me. That boy’s been pushing everyone’s buttons since day one.”

Phoenix shook her head. “No, this feels different. This is personal.”

Rooster, silent until now, suddenly looked up from his own pre-flight routine. His eyes flickered to Hangman, then to Maverick, a knowing look passing across his face. He pressed his lips together, clearly trying to hold back a smile.

“What do you know, Rooster?” Phoenix asked, her curiosity piqued by his expression. The rest of the team turned their attention to him, waiting for an explanation.

Rooster shrugged casually, though the amused glint in his eyes didn’t go unnoticed. “Just something I heard. Could be nothing… or it could be that Jake got caught last night somewhere he definitely wasn’t supposed to be.”

Payback raised an eyebrow, his interest growing. “Caught where?”

Rooster let the tension build before he dropped the bomb. “In a restricted area. With the Captain’s daughter.”

There was a moment of stunned silence before the entire team erupted.

“No way!” Phoenix exclaimed, her eyes wide with disbelief.

“Are you serious?” Bob asked, looking from Rooster to Hangman and back again.

Coyote whistled low under his breath, shaking his head. “Oh man, Hangman really went for it, huh?”

Payback laughed, clapping Rooster on the back. “That explains everything! No wonder Mav’s been on his ass all morning. He’s not just mad—he’s pissed.”

Phoenix smirked, glancing at Jake, who had his back turned to them, oblivious to the conversation. “Guess Hangman thought he could charm his way out of anything, even with Maverick.”

Rooster grinned. “Looks like that didn’t work out so well for him this time.”

Just as they were all shaking their heads in disbelief, Maverick’s voice cut through the group once again. “Seresin! You better get your head in the game or I’m pulling you from this exercise. Do I make myself clear?”

Jake straightened, his jaw clenched even tighter and gave another sharp salute. “Crystal clear, sir.”

Phoenix leaned closer to Rooster, whispering, “Do you think Hangman’s gonna survive this?”

Rooster chuckled under his breath. “Not if Maverick keeps this up.”

Bob, glancing over at Hangman with a small smirk, chimed in. “I don’t know… He survived all of us ganging up on him. Maybe he’s tougher than we think.”

Coyote laughed. “Or just dumber.”

They all shared a knowing look, quietly amused by Jake’s predicament. But despite the jokes and jabs, they were still a team. And though they would give Jake a hard time, they also knew that when push came to shove, Hangman would pull through like he always did.

For now, though, it was too much fun watching him sweat.

As the team geared up for the day’s flight drills, they couldn't help but exchange glances every time Maverick barked another order at Jake, each one sharper and more unforgiving than the last. The tension was palpable, but it only fueled the teasing that was sure to come after the training session ended.

Phoenix leaned over to Payback with a smirk. “Remind me to stay the hell away from Mav’s daughter if I want to keep flying.”

Payback chuckled. “Yeah, or at least don’t get caught.”

* * * * *

The warm, familiar glow of The Hard Deck beckoned like a safe haven after a brutal day on the tarmac. Hangman pushed open the door, feeling the cool rush of air and the buzz of conversation wash over him as he entered the bar. He was worn out, both physically and mentally, after a full day of Maverick barking orders at him like he was a rookie again. But he’d survived—barely—and now all he wanted was a cold beer and some peace.

Jake slid onto a stool at the bar, giving Penny a nod. She smiled as she handed him a bottle without asking, already familiar with his order.

"Rough day?" Penny asked, raising an eyebrow as she wiped down the bar.

Jake chuckled dryly, taking a long swig of his beer. “You have no idea.”

He barely had time to settle in before the door swung open again, and the rest of the squadron piled into the bar. Rooster, Phoenix, Bob, Payback, and Coyote—all of them were grinning as they made a beeline for Jake.

“Oh, hell no,” Jake muttered under his breath, already sensing what was coming. He took another gulp of his beer, bracing himself as they closed in.

Phoenix smirked as she sidled up next to him. “So, Hangman,” she began, her tone dripping with amusement. “You gonna survive round two tomorrow, or is Mav going to run you into the ground again?”

Jake rolled his eyes, lifting his beer in response. “Please. He can try, but I’m still standing, aren’t I?”

Coyote appeared on his other side, clapping him on the back. “Barely, man. You looked like you were ready to drop after that last drill.”

Bob chuckled softly from across the table, adjusting his glasses. “Can’t imagine what today’s extra ‘training’ must have felt like. That was… a lot.”

Phoenix leaned in closer, raising an eyebrow. “You know, we all thought Mav was going to tear you apart after what happened last night.” Her eyes twinkled with mischief. “But somehow, you’re still in one piece.”

Jake gave her a nonchalant shrug, though the tension in his shoulders hadn’t quite eased. “What can I say? I’m too good to kill.”

Before anyone could respond, the door to the bar swung open, and the atmosphere seemed to shift as Maverick strode in. His presence was impossible to miss, and the squad straightened instinctively, casting curious glances in his direction. Hangman, however, braced himself, wondering what was coming next.

Maverick didn’t waste any time. He crossed the bar in a few strides, heading straight for the group. His eyes flicked to Hangman, and for a brief moment, there was silence. Jake stood a little straighter, setting his beer down as Maverick came to a stop beside him.

With a firm pat on the shoulder, Maverick gave him a tight-lipped smile. “Nice work today, Seresin,” he said, his voice steady but carrying a weight behind it. “You held up better than I expected.”

Jake let out a small breath, trying to suppress his relief. But before he could respond, Maverick’s grip tightened ever so slightly, and he leaned in, his tone sharpening. “I hope you’re ready to do it all over again tomorrow.”

The warning was unmistakable. Maverick wasn’t done with him—not by a long shot.

Jake swallowed hard, his earlier bravado faltering. “Yes, sir. Ready for whatever you’ve got.”

Maverick’s eyes lingered on Jake for a moment longer before he straightened, the smirk returning to his face. “Good. Because tomorrow’s going to be a long day.” Without another word, he released his grip and turned to acknowledge the rest of the squad with a nod. “You all did good work today. Keep it up.”

As Maverick made his way over to the other side of the bar to talk with Penny, the squad’s attention snapped back to Jake, and the teasing immediately began.

Phoenix was the first to speak, her laughter bubbling up as she leaned on the bar. “Oh, man. You should’ve seen your face, Hangman. Looked like you were about to melt right there.”

Coyote grinned, shaking his head. “I thought you were supposed to be the cool, collected one, huh?”

Even Bob, usually the quiet one, had to chime in. “Yeah, you looked like you were in trouble for a second there.”

Jake shot them all a glare, picking his beer back up and taking a long swig. “Shut up, the lot of you. I’m still here, aren’t I?”

Phoenix raised her hands, palms out in mock surrender. “Hey, we’re just saying… Mav’s got something planned for you, and it sounds like it’s gonna be rough.”

Coyote leaned closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Better get a good night’s sleep, man. Tomorrow’s not going to be any easier.”

Jake huffed, a mix of frustration and amusement tugging at his features. “You’re all just jealous Mav’s paying me extra attention.”

Phoenix snorted. “If by ‘extra attention’ you mean kicking your ass twice as hard, sure.”

* * * * *

Penny leaned against the bar, her keen eyes tracking Maverick as he made his way over. He’d just come from delivering what appeared to be a friendly yet loaded comment to Hangman, who was now surrounded by the rest of the team, their laughter and teasing barely masking the tension in Jake’s posture.

Penny knew that look on Maverick’s face—the tight smile, the steely gaze. It wasn’t just about training, at least not entirely. Something more was brewing beneath the surface, and she had a good idea of what it was. After all, she had overheard a few conversations around the bar that night, whispers about the Captain’s daughter and a certain pilot getting caught in a restricted area.

She picked up a couple of glasses, wiping them absentmindedly as Maverick approached, her expression casual but her mind already working. 

When he reached the bar, she didn’t say anything at first, just poured him a drink without asking, setting it down in front of him with a knowing look. He took a sip, leaning on the counter as if the weight of the day—or perhaps, the weight of his own choices—was starting to catch up with him.

“Long day?” Penny asked, her tone light but probing.

Maverick glanced at her, offering a small nod. “You could say that.”

She leaned closer, crossing her arms over the bar as she fixed him with a look that only Penny could pull off—gentle, but firm enough to make him squirm a little. “Heard some interesting stories tonight.”

Mav’s eyebrow twitched, though he kept his eyes on his drink. “Yeah? This place is full of them.”

“Mmm,” she hummed, not letting him off the hook. “This one’s about a certain Lieutenant and someone’s daughter sneaking into a restricted area last night.”

Maverick didn’t respond at first, just took another sip of his drink, but Penny saw the slight clench of his jaw. She could feel the tension radiating off him, the inner conflict between Captain Mitchell and the protective father beneath the surface.

“You don’t have to pretend, Pete,” she said softly. “I know what’s going on. And so does half the bar.”

That finally got a reaction. He looked up at her, meeting her gaze, his expression somewhere between exasperation and reluctance. “It’s complicated.”

“I’m sure it is,” she agreed, her voice calm and soothing. “But don’t you think you’re being a little hard on him?”

Maverick’s brow furrowed, and he shook his head slightly. “He broke the rules, Penny. He crossed a line.”

Penny tilted her head, studying him carefully. “Didn’t we all, back in the day?”

Maverick shot her a look, a mixture of amusement and defensiveness playing on his face. “That was different.”

“Was it?” she asked, a hint of a smile tugging at her lips. “I seem to remember a certain pilot trying to win over an admiral’s daughter. And pulling all kinds of stunts to impress her.”

Maverick sighed, leaning back slightly as the memories came rushing back. Penny wasn’t wrong. He’d done more than his share of rule-bending in his younger days, and many of those stunts were in pursuit of her. He’d spent years dancing on the edge of regulations, risking everything in the name of love, adrenaline, and a good time.

Penny gave him a playful nudge with her elbow. “Come on, Pete. You weren’t exactly a saint, and you know it. Remember that time you tried to sneak into the backyard just to see me?”

Maverick couldn’t help the small chuckle that escaped him. “I thought we agreed never to bring that up again.”

Penny laughed, a soft sound that softened the air between them. “I think you’ve already punished Hangman enough. He’s young, and yeah, he’s cocky, but…” She glanced over at Jake, who was still getting ribbed by his teammates across the bar. “From what I’ve heard, he’s also a damn good pilot. And if he cares about your daughter half as much as you cared about me back then, maybe give him a little slack.”

Maverick’s smile faded as he followed her gaze, his eyes landing on Jake. The young lieutenant was putting on a good front, laughing along with the rest of the squad, but Mav could see the exhaustion in his posture, the way he was trying to hold it all together. Jake had a reputation for being brash, sure, but he’d proven himself time and again in the air. And lately, Maverick had noticed a subtle shift in him—a bit more maturity, a bit more responsibility.

Maybe Penny was right. Maybe he was being too hard on him.

He sighed, setting his drink down and rubbing the back of his neck. “I just… I don’t want her to get hurt.”

Penny softened, reaching out to place her hand on his. “I know, Pete. But you can’t protect her from everything. And Jake’s not a bad guy. He’s cocky, but… so were you.”

Maverick huffed out a laugh. “You’re really not going to let me off the hook here, are you?”

“Nope,” she said, smiling. “You can’t hold onto her forever. And if you trust her, maybe it’s time to trust him, too.”

He let her words sink in, the tension in his chest loosening just a bit. He still wasn’t thrilled about the idea of Jake dating his daughter, but he couldn’t deny that the kid had a good heart. And if Penny believed in giving him a second chance, maybe he should, too.

Maverick stood up straighter, finishing his drink before giving her a grateful nod. “Thanks, Penny.”

She winked at him, her smile warm. “Anytime. Just… don’t make it too easy on him, okay? Gotta keep him on his toes.”

Maverick smirked. “Oh, don’t worry. He’s got a long day ahead of him tomorrow.”

As he turned to leave, Penny called after him, her tone light but filled with affection. “Just remember, Pete… you were young once, too.”

He waved her off, chuckling as he made his way out of the bar. But as he walked out into the cool night air, her words lingered. Maybe, just maybe, it was time to give Hangman a little more leeway.

But not too much.

[erindrinkstea]

Rising from the Ashes

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick x Reader

Monster AU!

Harpy Crow Gaz and Phoenix Reader

TW: Violence, Blood, Death *temporary, Light Angst

Main Masterlist | CoD Masterlist

Description:

A routine mission turns deadly, leaving the 141 Task Force shattered by your loss. But as grief settles in, they notice something else settling in from the ashes.

Note: Talon is your codename.

"You broken, lovie?"

Soap's voice rung through your overstimulated sense of hearing but you understood him nonetheless. "I'm fine, Soap!" You assured the scot despite every being of you screaming that you were not fine.

Your left arm was broken, laying limp on your side as you now depended on your right to shoot. Your right eye was busted as well, limiting your vision on the field. Not only that but you could feel one of your bones not in place somewhere in your rib as it poked and prodded at your insides.

"Now go and tear those bastards down! I'll join Gaz in the sky." You smiled and Soap didn't buy that smile for a second but he had to go.

You grunted as you forced yourself to lift off into the sky, your wings straining from all the cuts it had.

"Hi, pretty boy." You chuckled, joining your lover's side in the air. Your eyes only scanning Kyle for a moment before your focus returned to the field. You raised your gun, raining hellfire to the hostiles beneath you.

"Aw, your wings." Gaz commented. You could hear the pout in his voice. "I swear- I'm going to spend a whole day grooming your wings back into proper condition."

You laughed at his declaration. "Only if you let me do the same to you, baby." You cooed.

"Less flirting, more fighting, lovebirds." You hear Price's voice cry out. Dragons and their very enhanced hearing- you swear.

"Copy, Captain." You grinned, returning to wrecking havoc on those unfortunate souls below.

"Look at my baby. One hell of a spitfire ain't they?" Gaz had a lovestruck look despite the ongoing bloodshed. "Get your arse in the game, birdbrain." Soap laughed, though more like howled.

"Y'know... We never really got to know what breed of harpy is Talon yeah?" Soap grunted as he quite literally tore on hostile in half.

"Huh, I never really asked." Gaz muttered to himself, just realizing. You'd think that 2 years into the relationship, you'd know by now. While it was known knowledge that the two of your were harpies, Gaz was specifically a crow breed while your breed remained unknown and undiscussed.

"AH- FUCK." You cursed in agony as one of the werewolf motherfuckers ripped a wing out your back. Price moment.

Eyes snapped to your form immediately. You curled up in the ground, clutching at your back in immense pain.

They couldn't even process what happened properly. The next thing they knew- your curled up form was picked up and your head was smashed into the ground.

It was quick. Should they be grateful at least that it was quick? Should they be fucking thankful that at least you won't have to live with the pain of a missing wing?!

The entire 141 Task Force was enraged, distressed and absolutely pissed. To touch one of them was a death sentence, signed and delivered to death herself.

Gaz was in pain. Everyone that was in his path met their end quickly as he rushed to your side. Nothing was more important than you. He felt pain like no other as he cradled your limp form.

Gone. You were gone. Just like that.

"My birdie?" He whimpered, calling out to you desperately. The feeling of grief choked him from the inside out. His wings spread out to curl around you, shielding you from the hell that the 141 unleashed on the bastards that touched you.

He gasped as your skin was fading into dust, your body crumbling into ash in his hold. He cried as he tried to salvage you, tried to hold you closer to keep you from leaving.

"What the fuck is happening?!"

"Don't go, baby. I'm here now. I'm here now, birdie."

"Please. God, please. At least let me keep their body, don't take them away from me even more."

The last part of you crumbled into ash and he curled his wings even more to keep you two in your own private space.

Cries of "I'm sorry." on repeat spilled from Gaz's lips. The hell outside of his private space went silent as the task force finally finished with dealing with the bastards that dared to lay their hand on you. That dared to end your life.

"I'm sorry, Garrick." Price offered his condolences.

"Shut up." Gaz didn't want to hear it. He didn't want to talk to anyone. He didn't want to listen to anyone. All he needed now and all he needed ever was you. Just you.

It was silence. A shared mournful silence between the four men. The remaining four of the 141 task force.

"Chirp?"

A small fire came to life from the ashes. Gaz hissed as his fingers got burned a bit from the heat. From the dust, there was a small movement before a little chick's head popped out. "Chirp!"

Eyes that stared up at the harpy sargeant with the brightest glint of a thousand suns. "What the fuck is that?" Soap cursed as all men stared shocked. Gaz knew what or who that was, he was familiar with those pretty eyes. "Birdie?" He called out.

"Chiiiirp!" You responded, your tiny chick form cuddling up to your lover as he scooped you up in his hands.

"A fucking Phoenix." Price was the first to snap out of the stupor. His boisterous laughter infecting the other men as they joined him.

"Should've known my birdie would be special. A Phoenix, of course you are, you spitfire." Gaz chuckled, bringing you close to cradle you.

"My beloved Talon is more like a little toothpick now aren't you?" Gaz teased as you angrily chirped back at him. Nonetheless, you nuzzled closer into his touch.

Not minding the slight tremble in his hands. You cuddled close, comforting your lover while looking into his relieved but still terrified eyes.

"I'm never leaving your side again." Gaz promised. "I pity your arse then, Talon. Looks like you're stuck with Kyle for eternity." Soap joked and the harpy sargeant nudged playfully at the werewolf.

"Stop it, Soap. Let him have his moment." Ghost interrupted what would be a playfight between the two sargeants. The three men watched as Gaz cradled your small form close to him.

His eyes a bit slitted and wary, even towards his own allies. It was clear that the whole scenario set off Gaz's instincts. You wouldn't be leaving Gaz's sight after what just went down, that was for sure.

"Let's get you home and into our nest, yeah birdie? Let's get you safe and tucked in. I'll need to check your wings as well. It's good to see you still have a complete set after returning."

Ah, you just know that the two of you will spend hours grooming feathers.

──────⊹⊱☕︎︎⊰⊹──────

[fatkish]

If you're still taking requests.

How would Endeavor and Hawks react to a broody (like when chickens are incubating eggs) phoenix child reader only to find out that the eggs in the nest are fertilized?

I hope that makes sense.

Whose the father? That’s their immediate reaction

After all, you couldn’t have fertilized them yourself

Any time Hawks tries to get near your nest, you immediately start trying to attack him

Enji has to hold you back so you don’t kill him

Hawks is not allowed near you since you attack him

For the sake of this to make sense, let’s just say that Tokoyami is the father. Or at least, he fertilized the eggs.

Hawks and Enji had no idea that you and Tokoyami were so close

You built a nest of blankets, sheets, pillows and clothes. You have two eggs that are fertile

Tokoyami has to bring you food and water since you refuse to move from your eggs.

You shed a lot of your flight feathers and have grown feathers that are slightly more downy and soft. The shed feathers are tucked into your nest

You have a heat lamp in your room that you use to keep the eggs warm when you leave to use the bathroom

You never leave the eggs for more than 30 minutes, ever

Natsuo checks the eggs often to see how they’re developing

Since your instincts are strong, you ‘decide’ to keep the babies. Not like your instincts would let you get rid of them

It takes 7 months in total for the babies to grow and hatch. In that time, Fuyumi and Natsuo are bragging about how their going to be Aunts and Uncles.

Shoto asks questions about the eggs and helps you plan for their future, where their rooms will be, how you plan to raise them, etc

Everyone in the Todoroki family already considers the reader as their sibling so they see themselves as the Aunts and Uncles of the reader’s eggs

Enji is stoked and yet horrified to be a granddad. He knows he was a terrible father to his own kids and he’s terrified that he’s gonna ruin his chances with his grandchildren, if he’s even allowed in their lives

Hawks is stoked and is already bragging about his niece and nephew, assuming the eggs are a boy and girl (you can change the babies’s genders) he’s gotten them so many gifts already and even plans out how to help raise them

Once the fetuses start to move and you feel it, you tell Tokoyami. He’s amazed and is slightly teary eyed. Dark shadow is bawling his eye out and proclaiming that he’ll never leave the eggs’s sides

Shoto just stares with a slightly amazed look and a soft smile when he feels the eggs move. Fuyumi is excited and happily smiles while giggling as tears run down her face. Natsuo just smiles and talks about what you might have to expect and writes down what’s happening for his medical experience and references

When the babies finally hatch it’s at 3:42 am in the morning. The babies are 6 1/2 lbs each

It takes 3 more months of you constantly taking care of them for them to fully absorb their yolk sacs, grow to standard baby weights, start suckling and to start developing feathers

Sorry if it’s short. If you want a part 2 of this or want to hear about the babies growing up, leave a comment please and thank you

[lavenlady]

I've seen your work and it's amazing!!!

So I want to make a request.

How about the idea of

reader baby cardbot and platonic/parental relationship with cardbots?

Possible strong friendship with Theo.

Notes:

Reader is the last baby created by the Machine, doesn't remember how he ended up on Earth and doesn't know what happened to his creators.

The team takes responsibility for raising a new generation.

And by human standards, the reader could be 5-7 years old.

I LOVE the Idea! Here you go @akifandragon! Enjoy!

✪ The Last ✪ | Platonic Metal Cardbot x Child!Cardbot!Reader

part 2, part 3

Your escape pod was found in the scrapyard, basking in the sun, waiting to be opened. Noone really knew you were there, so everyone thought there was a treasure or a device. After making both Black Hook and Heavy Iron retreat, the first to open the pod was Blue Cop. Being as careful as he could, he didn't want to damage the thing that was inside.

Without much struggle he managed to do so, but what he found was not a device of any kind. It was you, a young little Cardbot. How terrified you were, shifting to the far back of the pod with such panicked optics. It made our last surviving Star Guardian guilty, he tried to calm you down, not wanting to keep you in this probably uncomfortable pod any longer. It was confusing for others, what was it taking his so long to get the device out? Wild Guardy fed up with the wait decided to walk towards the police car, only to stop in his tracks after seeing the contents of the pod. It made his processor swirl and had nearly had him collapsing from shock.

Others, sensing that something is wrong, slowly made they way towards the two. You have chosen to climb into the Star Guardians arms, still shaky, but content with his soft hold. You, as a curious young Cardbot you were, started playing with his helmfins, seeing that they moved when trying to reach them. Mega Ambler was the first one to come closer, checking your well being. Everyone was confused, how did you get here? Was it an accident, or was it intentional? Either way it was a positive outcome, you were probably the last child that somehow survived the annihilation of Machina. It truly was a blessing.

The closest Cardbot to you was Blue Cop, he was the first one to meet you afterall. He is always watching over you, worried that something could happen. You often like to play with his helmfins, watching as they shift to get away from your touch, it truly was funny to you.

The second in line was Shadow X, thanks to his more childish attitude. He tries to include you in his pranks, but Blue Cop's influence has reached you far quicker than anticipated. Though you never refused a lesson in shuriken throwing, the sound of them cutting the air was interesting. Sadly it was rare as whenever Mega Ambler would see you playing with something sharp, he pulls you away and lectures Shadow X for hours. You always enjoy his company.

Mega Ambler knows how fragile you are compared to them, to Black Hook and to Heavy Iron. It worries him that you are exposed to violence at such young age. He can't really cut it out entirely, but he can limit it to the best of his abilities. You deeply like how caring he is with you, even better he could always explain complex thing to you in an interesting way.

Phoenix Fire is more carefree than the unlicensed doctor, but worries greatly as well. Working with fires on Machina really showed what kind of damage it can do. When ever you are too hot he happily sprays water to cool you off, he can't have you overheating, it is not good for your health. You love to spend time with him, often asking him to make rain with his water cannons, it was one of your favourite activities.

Dexter loves teaching you about Earth's nature, taking you on strolls through the forest and showing you it's beauty. You took an interest to cats as they were more common to spot. Mainly because Dexter takes them to the Auto Shop and watches over you as you carefully pet the felines. You liked listening to him and loved the animals he often brought over.

Mega Trucker enthusiastically showed you the music he danced to. He even taught you some moves. He was the next fun Cardbot after Shadow X, managing to keep you company all day if needed. You liked him and were ecstatic that he could keep up with your sometimes handful energy.

Fleta Z likes to take you on flights, of course after asking others if that was alright. You loved the feeling of traveling the skies. He mostly carries you in his robot form so you often try to catch the clouds, though they always escape. It really makes him laugh at how determined you are to touch them. You like flying with him and playing with his wings like with Blue Cop's helmfins.

Wild Guardy didn't really try to get closer to you, but your genuine want to be his friends partly won him over. You really liked when he used his sword. That made him ask Mega Ambler to make you a smaller one without sharp edges. You would often want to sit on his shoulders and swing your mini sword around, hugging his helm so you won't fall off. He could only sigh and accept his fate.

You weren't really close to humans, but Theo somehow managed to make his way into your friend circle. You liked to hear his stories and rumors about the surrounding area, it was funny how other Cardbots were believing such stories and you were not. You liked to watch Theo as he was doing his homework, often listening to him as he explained what he was doing. You were even trying to help with your new possessed knowledge.

The first contact with Black Hook's crew was funny to say the least. The mini Gallons were tasked to steal the Metal Breath. While the older Cardbots were chasing them you quietly picked up the green one out of the minis and held him close, finding him fun to carry around. Noone really noticed that, both of you watching the chase on the sidelines without really having anything to do.

The other two managed to get away, luckily without the Metal Breath. Their escape was short lived as Buffalo Crush crushed them accidentally under his tire. Your innocent nature immediately made you cry at the sight. The green mini was in shock, somehow you had unconsciously saved him from that fate, which made him try to lighten up your mood. Seeing at least one of them was intact made you hug him to your chassis, happy that he is still there.

The mini Gallon quickly became your friend, being around you all the time. When others found out you had him, at first they tried to coax you into giving him to them, but seeing your sad little optics made then drop that idea. They allowed it under other Cardbot's supervision.

When Buffalo Crush was sealed you were hesitant at first, but with his unique personality you slowly came to like him. Of course not without an apology to the mini Gallon. Buffalo Crush was shocked seeing you, how and when did you appear. If he was still with Black Hook, he would have probably told him about that discovery. He likes to carry you around on his shoulders and listen to your questions. You enjoy his talks and fuel he gives you, it is really tasty!

Buster Gallon was taken back as well when he saw you, but noticing that you had his missing mini, he tried to get him back, only to be met with your denial. He started arguing with you, both of you looking like kids fighting for the same toy. In the end you had to let your little friend go. Instead he started introducing you to his less harmful experiments. You especially liked his ink shooting pen.

Black Hook was ecstatic, a little fella that spent time with his subordinates and greatly enjoyed their company was perfect to be a part of the Black crew. Other Cardbots denied to even let you near the battle field and had to watch over so he wouldn't possibly endanger your well-being. You liked his hat and just like with Blue Cop's helmfins you liked to try and reach it. Black Hook was often spotted with you on his shoulder from where you were trying to reach his pirate hat with your shorter arms.

The final battle took place, they had to leave you behind at the Auto Shop with the minis to keep you company. After winning the fight with Heavy Iron and successfully sealing him, he got to finally met you. He was confused to say the least. When did you even show up? He didn't want you near him, always moving away from you. He couldn't exactly say that to your face-plates as he knew he wouldn't hear the end of it. Over time he would let you hug his leg. He was not going soft on you just because you are possibly the last young of planet Machina. Was he?

You liked Heavy Iron's swords, just like Wild Guardy's ones. His banter with Black Hook was hilarious. They even knocked back Blue Cop's hat off his helm. They fought often and you didn't understand why. Fleta Z told you that it was their way of bonding. He played his flute whenever they argued to keep your attention away from them. All of them wanted to keep the last young of their kind safe. Though that was cut short when their presence started to make Edo broke and even better - Crest found a stone tablet, which he thought Jun would like to see.

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( Hope you liked it! )

(Master list)

( Request away! )

[lulublack90]

Prompt 29 - Memory Potion

@wolfstarmicrofic April 29, word count 364

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

Remus dragged Sirius to see Dumbledore the next morning. Dumbledore said he was sorry, he didn’t have time to chat with them, but Remus insisted. 

“You have to listen: Peter was the original secret keeper, not Sirius. I made them change when I found out,”

“Ah,” Dumbledore said sadly, his periwinkle-blue eyes twinkling at them. “It is unfortunate that Voldemort discovered that Peter was the secret keeper, especially after you yourself, Sirius, told everyone that you were the secret keeper.”

“Exactly!” Remus butted in. “Everyone thought Sirius was the secret keeper. He even made it known he was the secret keeper. So, how did Voldemort know to go after Peter?” Dumbledore’s face paled. Something Remus had never seen before. The old man raised his wand and locked his office door. He did a few more intricate waves of his wand, but didn’t utter a single incantation. 

“What exactly are you saying, Remus?” He asked calmly. Remus swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat. It hurt to even think it, let alone say it out loud.

“What if? What if Voldemort knew Peter had been the secret keeper, because Peter was the spy we’ve been looking for in the Order? What if Voldemort found out that Peter’s information on Lily and James’s hiding place didn’t work because Peter was no longer the secret keeper? What if that’s why Voldemort killed him?” Sirius tensed beside him. Remus had voiced the part he’d thought about the night before, but not the rest of it. To be fair, he hadn’t realised the rest until that very moment when he started talking about it. Dumbledore turned and opened a cabinet. He dug around in it for a while before pulling out two small identical vials. 

“Drink these, please,” he ordered, handing one to each of them. 

“What is it?” Sirius asked warily. Dumbledore sank into the ornate chair behind his desk and dropped his head into one hand. 

“It is a Memory Potion. I need you both to tell me everything you remember about Mr Pettigrew since he joined the Order of the Phoenix.” Remus and Sirius looked at each other, and together they downed the potion. 

Part 9

[witchygagirlwrites]

Phoenix-Part 2

Kelly Severide x Reader (nicknamed Phoenix)

Gabby ropes you into the polar plunge where you and Kelly end up front and center of the evening addition of the paper

Warnings: High key flirting

The sound of your phone ringing made you second guess on whether or not the company had truly meant it when they sold you the insurance and said it covered “however many times you needed to replace it”

After a moment you decided against it and reached for the phone instead. You squinted and saw it was Gabby. You swiped the screen “Sup Dawson?” she laughed “So, we had an idea” you groaned “Stop right there before you say anything else. Who is we?” “Me, Brett, Cruz and a few others” you pushed yourself up to be leaning back against your headboard “I feel like you’re saying Brett and Cruz as a cushion to lull me into a false sense of security” 

“Ok so the polar plunge is tomorrow, we need a couple more people on our team” you groaned “And you figured you’d wait until now to ask?” she laughed “I’m sorry! Antonio had to back out last night because his unit is working a case” you were about to say no but she bought out the big guns “Severide is doing it and you know for a fact he is not about to let you live it down if he finds out you were offered and didn’t take me up on it” 

You pulled the phone away from your ear and stared at it open mouthed for a few seconds. How dare she? She knew that would work. “Fuck you Gabby, I’m in” you laughed and she started laughing too “I knew that would get ya”

“You’re horrible, you know that?” “Yeah yeah yeah. Love ya too Nix” she laughed before the two of you said your goodbyes and you hung up. How in the hell did you just agree to a polar plunge with a day’s notice just so you wouldn’t get shown up by Severide?

“Why do you need costumes?” you asked following Gabby, Sylvie, Cruz and Otis through the mall. The four of them turned around to you with broad grins “For the theatrics” Otis answered and you nodded “Oh, of course. I apologize Brian” he winked at you “I’ll forgive you this once” 

“Are you two the only guys dressing out?” you asked and they both shrugged “Matt will wear whatever Gabby throws at him. Boden is dressing in whatever Donna picks out, Herrman will wear something outlandish” you nodded then raised an eyebrow “What about Severide?”

Gabby rolled her eyes “He’ll probably just wear trunks” you laughed “Oh hell no. I’m buying him some trunks in that case. You all know he will not be able to resist if I toss a pair of wild ass trunks at him and accuse him of being afraid to wear them” you saw Otis and Cruz share a grin and Gabby got a wicked looking smirk and even Sylvie laughed lightly “Oh I can’t wait to see this” Cruz laughed as you grabbed his hand and Otis’ and dragged them both behind you nodding to the girls to keep up too.

_______________________

When you walked into work later that day you spotted Severide and his eyes widened when you smiled the moment your eyes met “This can’t be good” you grabbed your chest “I feel offended. Lil ol me? I did nothing wrong” he raised an eyebrow so you nodded “Ok, maybe I did do something” and pulled out the bag from behind your back “I went shopping with Gabby, Sylvie, Otis and Cruz to get me a last minute costume for the polar plunge”

He crossed his arms, a smug smirk slipping onto his face “You’re actually gonna do that” you crossed your arms, mimicking him “You are” he laughed “What did you get?” you shook your head “You’ll see tomorrow. The point is, I got you something to wear. I mean unless you’re afraid to dress up and have fun”

He grinned once he realized the challenge in your voice and held out his hand “Let’s see how bad it is” you held out the bag and he opened it, a loud laugh escaping him “What in the hell Nix?” you grinned “So, are you gonna wear em or what?” he pulled them out, admiring the swimming trunks that were adorned with rainbow sunflowers and little phoenix birds. 

“You marking me now?” he asked and you rolled your eyes “You wish” he stared at you for a minute then shook his head “You’re on, I’ll see you at the plunge sweetheart” you grinned “See you there Severide” “Kelly” he urged but you shook your head “Nope, still Severide” and walked away to head into the common area.

Gabby and Matt came to pick you up for the plunge. Gabby told you to dress in the costume and to bring a change of clothes. You carried your bag down and opened the backseat of Matt’s truck but to your surprise Kelly was there too. “Severide?”

He grinned “Hey sweetheart” you cut your eyes at Gabby and she shrugged “He decided to ride with us too” you shook your head “Whatever” knowing you were wearing a coat over your costume anyways. You put your bag on the floorboard and slid in, eyeing the fact that you could see Kelly’s trunks peeking out of his jacket considering he didn’t have his jacket done all the way in the heat of the truck. “Why did I agree to this? It’s freezing” you muttered as you buckled up.

“It’s for charity, it’s fun…” Matt offered and Gabby looked up in the mirror “You agreed because you didn’t want a certain someone showing you up” you rolled your head to the side to look at Kelly and smirked “Oh yeah” he shook his head, reaching over to pick at your jacket “What are you wearing anyways?” you slapped his hand “Buy me a drink first, damn” and Matt started laughing.

______________________

You stood between Gabby and Sylvie, moving back and forth to try to stay warm. Fifty one was up next. The twenty first had just gone and the goal? Beat them. You grinned when Boden basically reiterated just that. “Sure you can handle this?” Kelly asked, stepping up behind you close enough you could feel the heat radiating off of his body and damn near cursed him for the amount of body heat he had when the rest of you were hovering together or jogging in place to stay warm. You looked over your shoulder at him and smiled as sweetly as you could possibly manage before saying “Severide believe me when I say that I can handle anything and everything you can throw at me”

A slow smirk spread onto his face “I bet you could, couldn’t you?” you grinned as the speaker’s announced for fifty one to take their places at the starting line. You unzipped your jacket and tossed it into the pile. Kelly grinned “A witch? How is that so damn suitable for you?” you winked at him as they blew the horn for all of you to head into the river. 

_______________________

You fell in with everyone else and the moment the ivy water hit your body, a low squeal escaped you. You knew the point was to last as long as possible but to not overdo it at the same time. You weren’t going out as soon as you went in either way. Gabby laughed and hopped on Matt’s back, Otis had picked up Sylvie and before you knew what was happening Kelly had picked you up and dunked both of you under the freezing water.

You gasped when you came back up, squirming in his grasp but he held tight to you. “You’re fine Nix. I had you” he laughed and you glared at him “You asshole” he grinned “You’re like an adorable little wet cat” “I will strangle you” you threatened and he winked at you “Can you even reach my neck without climbing on something” before releasing you.

You gasped in shock “That’s it” and dove onto his back. “Damn spider monkey” he laughed, water splashing around you both. Your teeth were chattering. “Calling it!” Matt’s voice rang out, Boden repeating it. You hadn’t realized that fifty one had already doubled the twenty firsts’ time.

Kelly didn’t even make a move to get you off his back. He just came up out of the water, carrying you. He just stopped to let you slide down once all of you got to the towels that were being handed out. You grinned at him “That was kind of fun” he winked at you “Any time you want to climb me feel free” and continued walking. That asshole.

The plan was for everyone to end up at Molly’s that night to get the grand total of money raised for each charity. You were just glad for an excuse to go home, warm up and crash for a few hours. The polar plunge had actually ended up being a lot more fun than you originally thought it would be.

____________________

You parked your car across from Molly’s and jogged across the street. Antonio was headed in so you whistled and when he turned around you smiled “Sup elder Dawson?” he smiled “Hey Phoenix. How was the plunge?” “Cold, very freaking cold” he laughed “I bet, sorry I had to dip last minute. Would’ve been a conflict of interest anyways if I would’ve been on my sister’s team for fifty one and working out of the twenty first”

You nodded “I get it, I had fun if I must admit” he laughed “I won’t tell anyone. You headed in?” “Yeah” he opened the door and waved his hand “After you” you nodded and stepped inside “Thank you sir” you headed for where you saw Sylvie talking to Otis and Antonio headed for where you saw more of intelligence sitting together. 

“So, how did we do?” you asked, sitting down on the other side of Otis. He turned to face you and grinned “We tripled our goal” your eyes widened “That is freaking awesome” Sylvie laughed “Something about people liking seeing the firefighters flirt” you raised an eyebrow “Did they think Gabs was a firefighter?” she rolled her eyes “You and Kelly. You’re on the evening paper” “What?” you asked and she slid the paper towards you. Sure enough you and Kelly were in the collage. You were on his back, both of you laughing in the photo. “Oh he’s gonna give me absolute hell over this” you groaned. 

“About what?” Kelly’s voice came from behind you and you were wishing the floor would open up and swallow you whole. “Um nothing” he stepped up next to you and leaned over you “So you’re not talking about the rather large photo of us in the evening addition? Because I think we’re adorable” you rolled your eyes “Do not give me hell about this Severide, not like I grabbed you first” “Oh, so it’s my fault?” he asked and you shrugged “You said it, not me” 

He grinned “Don’t worry Nix, you look good on top of me” you smirked “So are you saying you wanna be under me?” “That’s my cue to leave” Otis laughed and Sylvie added “Mine too” Kelly watched them go then looked back at you. His eyes went from your face, to trail down your body, his tongue flicking out to wet his lips “Careful what you ask for. You might just end up getting it”  

“You couldn’t handle me Severide” you teased and he stepped a little closer “Even if I couldn’t…I’d damn sure be willing to try..” and then he turned to order a beer. You drank a swallow of your beer to choke down the lump in your throat. Fuck, that was hot. 

You shook your head and stood up to go over to where Sylvie had moved to “See ya later Sev” “Are you ever gonna call me Kelly?” he asked and you nodded “One day” before walking away.

Part 3

@elvenpirate51

@bonnyclydecat