#scream or toss punch and throw things so long as the kids are not on grounds we can do that

[savage-rhi]

.Magenta.

[lady-charinette]

This is like my third version of this plot but bear with me bc I go feral for domestic but deadly Kazurei

Post 10 year timeskip

Rei and Kazuki are cleaning up the kitchen, Kazuki is carrying boxes to the storage room so they store the food safely for tomorrow. Rei is left alone in the kitchen wiping the counters clean.

Someone comes in despite the closed sign being turned up and Rei glances at them and immediately tenses.

He could recognize that look anywhere.

A look that spelled trouble and screamed weapon.

Rei scanned the man from head to toe, eyes zeroing in on what appeared to be a concealed knife from within the man's jacket pocket. "Hey, uh, you guy's still open?"

"No, the closed sign is displayed on the front door, I'm afraid you'll have to leave." Rei didn't miss the way the stranger kept glancing at his limp arm by his side, as if gauging how much of a threat Rei posed since being crippled.

Oh, how dangerous it was to underestimate your opponent.

The man approached the counter and slid his hand along the polished wood. "Sir, I said we were closed."

Rei rolled his eyes when the stranger made a sharp turn to enter into the kitchen area, obviously to gain momentum to draw his knife and stab him.

Good thing Rei couldn't get rid of his blood that easily.

As soon as he caught the glint of metal, Rei sprung into action.

Using his limp arm as a feint, faking the movement of reaching for something, Rei distracted the man long enough to grab his wrist holding the knife and twisting the limb sharply.

The man cried out in pain, bones grinding against each-other viciously. "I said, we were closed."

The man ignored Rei and tried to punch him with his free hand, but Rei acted quickly. He kicked the man's chin, twisting his arm further, causing him to drop the knife. Right into Rei's hand.

Twirling the knife in his hand to hold it in a reverse grip, Rei aimed for the spot between his eyebrows.

When the stranger opened his eyes again, he was met with the sharp edge of his blade inches away from his face. "You have 5 seconds to decide whether you want your liver carved out by your own knife or you run away and never set foot in here again."

The stranger didn't even use the full five seconds before he was out the door, his cries echoing through the half empty streets.

Kazuki returned from the backroom, scratching his head. "Did that guy want a refund?" He rose an eyebrow at the knife in Rei's hand. "Hey man, I told you not to threaten our customers for looking at the family pictures."

Rei tossed the knife into the drawer and closed it, gazing blankly at Kazuki. "....You're one to talk. Didn't you threaten to disembowel a kid and use his innards as ingredients for our next menu item?"

Kazuki clenched his fist at the memory. "I threatened a man looking at pictures of our Miri lewdly! You were itching to get your hand on him, too!" He pouted, sneering at Rei.

Rei grinned. "The kid was 16, I draw the line at beating up kids."

Kazuki cackled maniacally. "HA! Weakling! Good thing you have me! I'll throw hands with a toddler if he made kissy faces at yo- I mean Miri!"

Rei rose an eyebrow at the verbal slip, watching his partner's face heat up.

"Hm...sure you would."

[mykingdomforasong]

For your mash-up challenge: DinLuke, Bookshop AU and Mutual Pining?

I love a good book shop au.

Rated G, alternating third person pov. Human Grogu (~2 y.o).

[prompt list]

~*~*~

The bookstore had become Luke's entire life. It was either take over Old Ben's bookshop or spend his days working on the farm. While Uncle Owen had high hopes Luke would turn into a farmer, it was just never in the cards for him.

Granted, Luke never thought that still living in his hometown at twenty-eight and running a small bookstore would be in his cards either. But his uncle's health and an unexpected line in Old Ben's will brought him back a few years ago.

It wasn't all bad. The town certainly had its charms. And the shop came with a Roomba and an orange cat. Those two were now, maybe, Luke's best friends.

On Tuesday nights, Luke ran a children's story time, where he'd read picture books to a semi-circle of local kids, serve fruit punch, and watch parents sit in comically small chairs.

Aunt Beru told him not to play favorites, but Grogu was a consistent face at story time, and with those big brown eyes, Luke couldn't help himself. He had a favorite.

And his perfectly regular looking dad who Luke had no feelings for at all did not contribute to Grogu's "favorite" status in the least.

Or at least that's what he said to Aunt Beru one night as they tossed paper cups into a Hefty bag.

He didn't tell her that Grogu's father, a kind man with an arm of tattoos and a two-year old made, Luke so out-of-his mind he thought he could run a marathon with no training or swim a mile in the Arctic ocean. That when he saw him every Tuesday at eight p.m, Luke had fantasies about the two of them laying in a sun-lit meadow while the Twilight soundtrack played. That he wanted to tear out his own hair, scream, or throw furniture at the sheer idea of Grogu outgrowing story time without warning.

"If you say so," she said. Luke knew she'd seen right through him.

~

Din was very careful not to flirt with people while they were at their place of work, but after months of Tuesday picture book readings, he wondered if he might be able to start being his own rules. (He's have to learn to flirt first, Fennec had told him. He always managed to be too subtle or come on too strong.)

The man was classically handsome, boyish and strong at the same time, just a whisper shorter than Din, but a little younger. During the Halloween story time, He'd come dressed as Captain America, and he'd been a hit with the kids and the parents. Although Din did his best to be polite, when he started proving his super strength by doing push ups, Din hid, suddenly deeply interested Pride and Prejudice.

Fennec spotted Luke once, and had promptly reported back to their friends that Din's crush was was out of Din's league.

"Or would be, if you didn't have the cute single dad thing going on."

"Grogu isn't an accessory I use to pick up guys."

"Maybe not, but he does that work anyway." She had a point.

Grogu was a great help when it came to breaking the ice, but the ice between him and Luke melted a long time ago.

"What's this week's pick?" Luke asked Grogu, reaching for the book Grogu had gripped tightly in his little baby fist.

"Dragons Don't Eat Tacos," Din said. Luke leaned over the counter with the scanner, barely getting it over the bar code. The register beeped.

Din had started coming to the bookstore out of necessity. Every week he and Grogu would come home from the library with stacks of books. But Grogu liked to put his favorites in his mouth and bite. Din worried the kid would give himself smallpox or bubonic plague. The librarians were worried that more of their books would come back with visible bite marks. So Din and Grogu made a deal. Which ever book was Grogu's favorite that week, they'd buy at the store, and that one Grogu could chew on all the way home.

Dragon's Don't Eat Tacos was in Grogu's mouth before Din could get the cash out of his wallet.

"Is it tasty?" Luke asked.

"It's his favorite snack," Din said.

Luke smiled and laughed, even though Din's joke hadn't been very funny. He felt the back of his neck get hot, and then his ears. He glanced behind him as Luke grabbed his receipt. No one was behind him. He could take a little more time.

"The reading tonight was great," he said.

"I've been practicing my phonics," Luke said, "I should be a level two reader any day."

Din didn't know how to get from this part to the usual exchange of phone numbers or making of plans. With sweat beading on his forehead, he blurted: "Your funny voices are getting better."

Luke smiled, a real smile, his eyes bright and the corners crinkled. "Thanks! Those I actually have been practicing."

Din didn't have to think of something to say next, because Grogu, a child who hardly spoke at all, picked that moment to announce to the both of them "I pooped!"

~

Luke showed Din to the bathroom before heading back to the children's corner to help his aunt with the clean up.

"I locked the front. You'll have to let Din out."

Luke checked his watch. They still had three minutes until their official 9p.m closing time.

"We can't lose a good customer to my ..." he drifted off, drowning his sentence in a cup of fruit punch.

"Your what, Luke?" She asked, playing dumb.

Luke just shrugged.

"I don't think giving that nice man your number would risk any business," she said, "but that's just my opinion."

~

Din apologized when Luke had to let him out of the store.

"Please, don't worry about it," Luke insisted. The air outside was cold, and Grogu was snuggling his head against Din's shoulder, his book between his teeth.

"Can you say goodnight to Mr. Skywalker?" Din said. Grogu waved, but seemed to have used the last of his words for the day on his announcement.

"By Grogu," Luke said. Luke didn't move, so neither did Din.

"Next week then?" Din asked.

"Next week." Luke gave him a thumbs up. Din did one back.

"Um ..."

"Well! Goodnight!" Luke said, stepping back inside and shutting the door behind him. Grogu waved at him through the glass. Luke waved back. Din gave another thumbs up. Luke did it back.

Din turned to go, but Grogu was still waving. When Din turned without Grogu's permission, Grogu shrieked, and the taco book fell from his mouth. Luke opened the door fast, picking it up off the pavement as it closed behind him.

"Do you want a new one?" He offered.

Din took the book back, his hand brushing Luke's in the exchange. "His bite marks are already all over it," Din said. "And I have wipes." He jostled the diaper bag on his shoulder.

"Right," Luke said. "Well, goodnight again."

"Goodnight again." Grogu was finally done waving, so Din thought was safe to turn around.

"Din!" Luke called. "Do you like coffee?"

"Yeah," he said. His heart raced as his mind started thinking up every possible follow up question that wasn't would you go out with me?

"The spot down the road is really good, if you'd want to go with me? Maybe this weekend?" Luke had his hands behind his back and was rocking on his heals as he spoke.

Din smiled in the wide and goofy way that was almost always reserved for Grogu. "Yeah, that'd be great!" Luke's smile matched Din's in that moment.

They exchanged numbers quickly, or tried to. Din noticed Luke's hands were trembling. He'd stepped outside without a jacket, and the weather was starting to get cold.

"There," Luke said, sending Din a text with his name.

"I'll call you," Din promised.

"Great, I look forward to it." They kept smiling at each other.

Luke turned away first, only to find a locked storefront. "Oh no," he said.

"Oh no," Din echoed when he realized.

"My aunt is in there, I'll just need to ... bang on all the windows until she notices." He rubbed his face before he started knocking.

"Want me to stick around until she lets you in?" Din offered.

"Please spare me the humiliation," Luke said, a chuckle in his voice. "No, please, don't feel like you need to stick around. She'll notice soon enough."

"Well, if she doesn't, you know ... call me," Din said.

"I will," he promised.

Din smiled and Grogu chewed all the way home.

[falcor-thee-luck-dragon]

Forgive, But First Fun - Nandor x f(vampire) reader

Summary: After getting left behind to fight off a pack of werewolves on your own, now mad at Nandor, you and Nadja have decided a little night out couldn’t hurt.

Warning: slight angst, fluff, fun times, and a tiny smut mention

Masterlist

Trudging angrily through the manors wooden doors, face stern and almost scary enough to put the fear of God into anyone. Your boots stomp into the large opening and onto the wooden floor boards as Gullimero, Nandor, and the documentary crew follow you in.

Your cloak is ripped and dirty as it lays in a pathetic black heap of cloth in Gullimero’s arms, your hair not looking any better, not to mention your face and arms that have various cuts paired with grass smudge marks adoring your skin. All in all you look like a hot mess.

“What the fuck happened to you lot? You’ve been gone all night.” Questions Laszlo as he walks into view from out of one of the hallways, his eyes scanning over a perfectly clean and handsome Nandor, then over to the dirty crew and disheveled Guillermo who’s got some leaves stuck to his hair.

“I don’t know.” You snap sarcastically, “How about you ask Mr. Dodgy-shit-stick over there.” Referring to Nandor who’s looking anywhere but you, keeping as silent as ever.

Gullimero looks between you and Nandor, then back at a confused Laszlo. “Oh, um they’re not speaking to each other right now.”

“And why the fuck not?”

Guillermo sighs before leaning towards Laszlo, “Nandor wanted to graffiti where the werewolves live and Y/N said he’d get caught and then Nandor said no I won’t and then he did.”

Laszlo raises a curious brow, “That’s it?”

“Oh, um....” Guillermo awkwardly scratches the back of his neck, suddenly pulling off a green leaf, “then they chased us to the park and when the pack closed in on us Nandor turned into a bat and left us behind so Y/N had to fight one of them off so we could escape and now we’re here.”

“Well that sounds rather exciting.”

“Not at the time.” Whispers Guillermo to no one in particular as he glances over at the camera.

“Huh,” Mutters Laszlo thoughtfully, scratching his beard as he thinks of how to help this situation, “well if you two dingbats aren’t talking to one another I believe Nadja needs you Y/N. Something about....well actually I’m not entirely sure.”

Perking up ever so slightly at this positive news, you cross your arms over your chest defiantly, “Well since someone does, I’ll be going then.” You grumble with a low growl at your Nandor who’s refusing to make eye contact while he stares frustrated at the floor.

Nodding in acknowledgment, Laszlo watches you stomp angrily up the steps before turning his head over to Nandor who’s now watching you leave with big sad eyes.

“Alright why’d you do it?” Interrogates Laszlo with a raised brow.

“Do whaaat?” Replies Nandor defensively, his once high and mighty aurora reappearing in an instant.

Rolling his eyes, Laszlo sets a hand on his hip sassily, “Well I sure as hell don’t want an angry Y/N wandering around this old place for the next however the fuck it takes you both to make up....in however fashion that may be. So I ask again, why’d you puss out and flee like a mangy opossum?”

Pursing his lips together in apprehensive embarrassment, Nandor mutters to himself before finally crossing his arms over his broad chest and sighing, “Because......I....I don’t know I panicked!” Exclaims the large vampire, causing Laszlo to start laughing. “Why are you laughing?”

Wiping a fake tear from his eye, Laszlo lets out a few more chuckles before finally composing himself, “My good man that is the second saddest thing I’ve ever heard. The first being when one of my many victims offered me one of their rare and exclusive Poki-muns card which I still have no idea what the fuck they were on about. Anyways, doesn’t matter, all I’ll tell is that you better make it up to her.”

“But she’s scary when she’s angryyy.” Whines Nandor with a frown.

“That’s all women my young pup, but since your lovely lady is a vampire she’s more dangerous.” He says while giving Nandor a kind pat on the back, “So uh, stay safe out there.” Adds Laszlo before turning and walking down the hallway leaving Nandor with his thoughts, Gullimero, and the documentary’s camera crew.

“What are you all looking at!” Snaps Nandor to the rest of the room.

——

“Oh my goodnessess that’s awful, my poor dark angel.” Soothes Nadja as you take a moment from your long and needed rant about the adventures in the park and Nandor’s cowardly stupidity. “That big hairy rhino doesn’t deserve you Y/N.” She reasons honestly, doing her best to make you feel better, knowing all to well the level of competent decision making skills of the other two vampires in the house.

“I know.” You mutter in agreement, your body tense and agitated as you pace back and forth in front of her as she sits in a chair, “Fucking beautiful idiot prick horse-fart of a husband. Urgghhh!” You proclaim loudly while throwing your hands into the air angrily, causing the furniture in the room to screech backwards across the old flooring at your outburst of vampiric energy. Nadja’s long obsidian hair blowing backwards as you do so while she keeps seated, unflinching.

Face softening, she gives you a sympathetic smile, “Oh my lovely fierce lioness, I know exactly what will make that sad little frown turn into a happy one.” Beams Nadja with an excited clap of her hands.

Hugging your sides, you let out a frustrated huff before giving your old friend a shrug, “What do you have in mind?”

——

“So we’re at the carnival!” Claps Nadja in delight as she smiles at the camera, “This will hopefully relieve Y/N’s pent up angers and keep her mind off of Nandor.....for now.” She adds a bit uncertainly.

“HA HA take that fuckers!” You shout joyfully from behind her, the camera panning over to you at the ball toss where you’ve been knocking down plastic bottles with a rubber ball. The stall owner cowering in the corner as he shields himself with a stuffed zebra.

The camera focuses back on Nadja, “I think it’s going really well so far.” She confirms with a convincing grin. “Relieving all that..uh....rage.” 

After winning a stuffed snake taller then you and deciding to wear it as a strange fashionable scarf, you and Nadja are wandering the carnivals streets while people watching to pass the time.

“So that’s why I never walk on the roof after 3am when I’ve had homeless man’s blood.” Rambles Nadja as your thoughts about Nandor come trickling down into your brain and nose. Huh, strange, must be cause you’re still wearing a thin red scarf of his.

No, stop thinking about him.

“Good lesson learned then,” You add with the flash of a smile before nudging her shoulder gently, “hey you wanna watch me win you something cool?”

Perking up in an instant, Nadja smiles a devilish fangy grin as she stops to eye up the multiple game stalls, “Why I would be delighted my dear Y/N, how about....um, oooh I want that giant tropical fishy with the long whiskers over there.” Points Nadja as your eyes travel over to the game stall with the large prizes.

It’s a game that requires the individual to shoot an arrow directly on three different sized bullseye’s stationed at various heights. Smiling like an idiot, you nudge your vampiric acquaintance in agreement, the both of you quickly swaggering over to the carnival game and it’s plush flashy prizes just screaming to be won.

“Hello good sir, my skilled roommate Y/N here is going to win me that fish.” Beams Nadja proudly as the teenager jumps off his chair to greet the two of you.

He smells like weed but surprisingly looks decent all things considered, “Uh yeah alright, two bucks for three arrows, hit every target directly on the middle red mark and if you make it on the bonus poster on the far back wall then you’ll have a chance to win that fish, good luck.” Mumbles the kid unenthusiastically as you slide him the cash.

Picking up the shitty yet still functional carnival bow, you give Nadja a wink before fitting an arrow in the nock and pulling back, lining up the shot and releasing directly into the first target to the left. Smirking to yourself you quickly draw again, hitting your second mark just as intended. Pays to be a skilled archer huh.

“Damn that’s pretty good aim.” Nods the teen as he watches in awe as you fit another arrow, releasing and punching a hole in the middle of the third target.

Nadja claps in excitement from behind you, “Yes! Win me that colorful fat bitch my feisty lioness!”

Standing like a warrior ready for battle with your bow in hand and wind blowing in your face, the kid almost drops the arrow he hands you for the winning shot as he practically swoons.

“Get those scissors ready, that fish is mine.” You growl in determination while picturing Nandor’s head as the final target, drawing back, you let the arrow fly straight into the bonus target. Winning Nadja her giant fish plushy.

“Yessss!” Shouts Nadja in delight as you drop the bow onto the table like a bad bitch before eyeing up the kid with a raised brow, “We’ll be taking the fish now.”

Wide eyed he almost falls off his chair, “Wait um, that’s the last one...I didn’t think, uh, my boss doesn’t want me to give away those ones.” He stutters out.

“What!” Snaps Nadja, “Then why are they just hanging there? You lied to us you little shit!”

“I’m sorry.” He pleads apologetically, “That’s what my boss told me. And no one ever wins the big prizes anyway so I didn’t think...”

“Well your boss he can eat a big horse turd cause I’m taking that fish.” You growl before jumping up and unhooking the fish from its perch above your heads, handing it to a practically glowing with joy Nadja who immediately hugs the thing.

Sticking your tongue out at the teen, you and Nadja turn to leave before a boney hand is suddenly on your shoulder, twisting around in an agitated instant, your face is mere inches from the wide eyed boy as he attempts to look even a tad bit threatening.

“No.” Is the only thing that slips from your tongue before your hand shoves him back, his whole body going air bound into the back of the carnival tent while the kid lets out a panicked scream.

“Ooooh Y/N that was very sexy of you.” Smirks Nadja while wiggling her dark brows, “Too bad a certain cowardly lion wasn’t here to see it.”

Petting the stuffed toy snake around your neck absentmindedly, you smile back a fangy grin, “Yes. Too bad.”

Continuing on your late night stroll through the carnival you both pass by random strangers, families, elders, children, and lovers all minding their sweet business completely unawares to the dark supernatural world walking right past them.

Although you’re quite enjoying this time spent with your best friend in the whole wide world, a low dull feeling of emptiness can’t help but creep into your undead being the more you catch sight of new and old couples walking together.

Sensing your growing sadness, Nadja nudges your shoulder playfully to gain your distracted attention, “Hello in there my black rose, what is on your mind?”

Holding the snake close to your body, a small smile creeps its way onto your face knowing she’s looking out for you, though it’s gone soon enough, “Oh you know....uh....blood.” You mutter unenthusiastically, trying to keep your thoughts away from Nandor and how much you miss him right now.

“Blood is it? But we just fed before attending the carnival.” Inquires Nadja in confusion as she keeps a normal pace at your side while the two of you follow the sidewalk past various shops and restaurants. “What is actually plaguing your mind my dear one?” She wonders with a frown, not keen on seeing you upset and in a grey mood.

Biting your lip anxiously, though not hard enough to draw blood, you walk past a couple more people before your eyes catch the sight of a small black bat disappearing behind a corner building just up ahead.

Squinting your eyes, your nose suddenly catches the scent of someone very familiar, “Nandor?”

Turning her head to face you, Nadja’s brows furrow in puzzlement, “What? No my sweet hurricane, forget that mangy old bear he’s not important right now.” Urges Nadja as she looks forward, suddenly surprised to catch a glimpse of someone who looks a lot like Guillermo racing behind the same corner you saw the bat fly behind. “Okay um what the fuck? Did you see that too?”

Glancing at Nadja you nod before quickening your steps as she does the same, her skirts flowing as she tries to catch up with you, though you’re much faster and with lack of annoying dress material, “Wait! You’re too fast.” Yelps Nadja.

Ignoring her protests you book it down the sidewalk like a maniac, almost running into a jogger before skidding round the corner of the brick building and coming face to face with a wide eyed Guillermo who gasps in surprise. Nudging him to the side, your eyes immediately fall upon the nervous fangy grin of your Nandor.

He gives you a shy little wave before shuffling awkwardly in place, awaiting your rampage of verbal and possibly physical assault that he’s certain is in the near future.

Taking a deep breath, you cross your arms over your chest defensively, “Were you following me?”

“Um, well.....I might have been....but only to make sure you were okay.” Mutters Nandor honestly, eyes shifting from you to the ground nervously as he awaits your wrath.

Pursing your lips together in thought, you shake your head before taking off the stuffed toy snake and holding it firmly in your hands. With a low growl do you grasp the snake in your right hand and hold it back like you might swing at any moment.

“You’re a fucking nincompoop you know that right?” Slips from your mouth without an once of anger lacing your words, instead do you hand the snake to Gullimero as Nandor watches in puzzled fear.

Taking a swift step forward, you point a finger into his strong chest while looking sternly up at him, “Racing off and leaving me too fight that angry bitch all by myself, and now following me when I needed a break from you! Nandor....... you’re something else.” You add with a shake of your head.

“Yes I know, and I’m sorry my love.” Smiles Nandor with saddened eyes, “I promise to keep you save from now on and fight off any werewolf who tries to hurt you....even if I am scared.”

Taking a step back, you can’t help the smirk that forms onto your face at his sweet words of forgiveness and sincerity. You know how much he fears werewolves and that he fled the scene thinking you were planning on following too, not realizing that you might actually give a shit about Gullimero’s and the crew’s lives.

“Oh my dear puff dragon,” You declare softly with a small smile, reaching both hands out to grasp his own, “I forgive you.”

Nandor’s face breaks out into the biggest and happiest grin you’ve seen since his last birthday when he walked into your shared crypt only to find you naked and holding a bushel of red roses while seated seductively on his coffin.

“Oh that’s fantastic because I was really missing you.” Reveals Nandor with a gentle squeeze of your hands. “Laszlo and Guillermo can’t make me laugh nearly as much as you can, they’re honestly rather boring.” He says before leaning in closer to whisper, “and not very attractive to look at either.” Causing you to crack another grin and your undead heart to fill with butterflies. 

Chuckling you reach up with one hand to pull his collar closer to you and a second later do your lips clash sweetly against one another in a heated moment of passion. He smiles into the kiss before moving to pull you in closer with both of his hands, one slipping low to cheekily pinch your round bottom.

Feeling him against you once again has to be the best sensation in the whole entirety of the world even if you’ve only been separated for a couple of hours. You absolutely love the way his fingers dig into your back and bum with an animalistic eagerness that’s slowly starting to drive you insane. Oh, the things he does to you.

Especially how his tongue slips into your mouth with ease while you tug at his hair long dark locks. “Y/N!” Suddenly shouts Nadja.

“Nandor!”

Begrudgingly pulling away, you turn around to face the confused lady vampire while Nandor hugs you from behind, happily smirking at her, knowing she can’t do anything to hurt him now. “Yes Nadja.” You answer.

With the fish plushy hung over her shoulder, her brows furrow in confusion, “What the fuck are you doing? I thought you were mad at him?”

“Yeah well, I was starting to really miss him and also I’m kind of horny now so.” You reply with a shrug as Nandor hugs you tighter, resting his bearded chin against your head while Nadja huffs in defeat.

“Alright. See you at home then.” Adds Nadja before turning towards Guillermo and shoving the giant carnival fish into his arms, “Hold this Gizmo I’m going home.” Then just like that she’s gone in a black wispy poof, flying away in bat form towards the vampire resistance on Staten Island.

“Okay then.” Mutters Gullimero as he looks up at the dark sky.

Feeling a wet kiss on the side of your face and neck you smile before turning around to face your dear husband, “Shall we take flight to seek out our bed chambers?” You speak slyly in a soft yet seductive voice.

“Yes.” Grins Nandor with a flash of lust and excitement before turning his attention over to Guillermo, “Hey Guillermo I’m leaving to make passionate love to my wife so don’t bother us or I will have a rat shit in your pillowcase. Okay?”

You giggle to yourself as Gullimero’s cheeks redden while he side eyes the camera, “Understood master. Have fun.” Squeaks out the loyal familiar as he stands there awkwardly with his hands full of two carnival prizes.

Nandor sneakily squeezes your bottom once more as he gives Gullimero a knowing smirk, “Oh, we will.” Then a second later you two are flying high above the city in bat form, ready to make love to your sweet Nandor for probably the twentieth time that week.

Down below the camera pans over to Gullimero as he blinks, “Well uh, I have these things now..” He says, holding up the fish, “and I am so not looking forward to cleaning up their mess.......again.”

[notchesandbullets]

Wherever You Go, I Will Follow (Boxer! Metal Arm! Bakugou x Reader) Underground!AU

Art credit: @/helloclonion on Instagram

Warnings: violence, drinking (everyone is of age), hints of ptsd and depression, mentions of cloning norms, angst but fluffy ending.

Synopsis: Bakugou doesn’t like to talk about what happened to his left arm. Years of fighting underground had made him harder than nails. Society was messed up. Children weren’t born, they were made and any who aren’t adopted are raised in mass orphanages. But you’re special. And you’ve chosen the light even though you’ve seen the darkness. Who else to get through to his heart other than someone like you?

Words: 7.8k

The lights blind you momentarily as they flashed on. The humidity in such a crowded space packed with people was making your skin crawl but it was worth it for the greatly anticipated show.

An underground arena that had this much hype was rare since most fighters didn’t make it past their 20s due to injuries so severe from boxing that it cost them their lives.

There were zero qualified doctors here in the society riddled with old factories that didn't exist anymore and sleazy underground cities where nothing could grow anymore due to the pollution. It had fallen to ruin and only a select handful that could heal like they claimed to. 

Due to that little insignificant fact, that meant the expected lifespan of everyone down here wasn’t more than 30 years of age.

Of course, it varied from section to section, but there was enough pattern to know that there wasn’t long to live once you got to your teens.

Therefore, everyone lived fast and hard down here, trying to experience as much as they could before it was their time to go.

And while you couldn’t say that you blamed them, that wasn’t how you wanted to live. You wanted to fight back against the norm and make a difference that would change this world.

Which is why you were so interested in this particular fighter.

Bakugou Katsuki. 

A reformed individual with a criminal record after a looting with his crew went sideways. He was stronger than most with an attitude and ego bigger than the city itself.

He was renowned to be one of the baddest in the underground and had a personality as difficult as a cloned Siberian tiger.

You sighed and rolled your eyes. You didn’t know why Mic couldn’t come scout today instead of you, you hated how jam packed Bakugou’s fights got, which is why you always steered clear of them.

Well, that and because you weren’t exactly partial to his famed temper.

Then, the glint of metal had you on the edge of your seat, eyes sparkling with curiosity as you caught a better look the second time around as he stomped into the ring. 

Was that… a metal arm?

It looked like something straight out of Marvel’s Winter Soldier from back in the day. Scarily so. 

You faintly recalled that his opponent’s name was Shindou, supposedly the underground’s upcoming rising star to the top. His undefeated reputation preceded him and he certainly was easy on the eyes.

So why did you find your gaze drawn to the arrogant boxer with a cocky smirk on his face across from the guy that was cuter than him?

Metal arm flexing, sweat dripped down his brow, his crimson eyes narrowed in concentration and tinged with a hint of malice as his much larger rival took a swing at him to kick off the round.

Bakugou blocked it head on, retaliating with a force that sent him spiraling towards the cage. His wrapped hands were crusted with blood and he hastily brushed the dirtied, spiky hair that fell into his eyes out of his face, a ravenous hunger coming through as he bounced on the balls of his feet. 

“Is that all you fucking got, extra?!” He screamed in Shindou’s face and you actually had to cover your ears at the sheer volume that carried through the stadium, egging him on.

Your mouth dried as Bakugou caught him across the jaw the second he flew at him, knocking out his opponent in one go, calling the match in under thirty seconds flat. 

Holy shit, he’s good. You thought to yourself, thoroughly impressed, barely able to hear yourself over the crowd’s roar as Bakugou punched his fist in the air victoriously. 

His technique seemed rough to the naked eye but taking a closer look, his form and tactics were flawless. His overall strategy could use a little work, since he seemed particularly keen on using brute strength, but he was really good at turning the tables on his opponent in an instant.

And really good at making sure that they couldn’t get up again after he threw them down.

You had your share of good fighters. Not like that, you dirty minded creature, you were a scout for your father’s gym. 

Aizawa wasn’t a revered name by any means, but that didn’t mean he lacked skill. He was the one who could take down more people than any other pro could, but he absolutely hated media attention. Hence why almost no one knew of his abilities, other than a select few of his colleagues and fellow fighters. 

And you of course. You were so incredibly proud of your him.

He had recently been scouting new talent after taking in several kids: Shinsou, Todoroki and Midoriya. 

The female boxers in his ring were a literal force to be reckoned with. You weren’t sure you’d ever seen someone pack a punch with as much power as Uraraka when she got serious. And no one could beat Yaoyorozu when they stepped in the same arena as her.

In the underground, it was normal to come across those that talked big, but rarely have you ever seen them deliver.

This guy had some raw talent. Perfect. 

Looks like Uncle Hizashi’s instinct was right.

After the fights ended and the exciting night came to a close, you wormed your way through the rows of people lining up to claim their bets that they had placed at the beginning of the night. You were at least smart enough not to get sucked into all that. 

A cage match had too many variables. The odds could change in a split second, no matter how good or bad the fighter was. And since there were no rules, anybody could win. 

You found the boxer in the designated fighters’ alcove security had put there especially for them to wind down. Here, they would be hidden away from the crowd and only the fighters knew about this spot aside from those that protected it.

“You’re good.”

Bakugou snorted, not looking up at the sound of your voice as he continued to unwrap the tape from his hands. “Of course I am, dumbass.”

You cocked an eyebrow at his arrogant attitude but after a fight like that, you guessed the pride was well deserved. After all, the guy he went up against was undefeated. No one had beat him and after Shindou earned his reputation of tearing the limbs off of the fighters he faced, no one wanted to step into the ring with him after that.

But Bakugou didn’t back away, even going so far as to taunt this guy, boldly proclaiming that he’d beat him.

Normally, you would brush off those guys as no good but he made good on what he said he would do, so you were at least a little bit curious.

A little.

You still didn’t like his attitude though. 

Tossing the bloodied wraps in his bag, he ignored you as you just stood there like a lost puppy. People like you didn’t belong in the underground.

Soft.

Bakugou scowled and huffed scornfully, throwing his bandages down with a little more force than necessary. 

Patching up wasn’t too bad this time around. He was lucky the round ended when it did though, that fucking extra had too much boisterous energy and willpower that had carried him this far. Still, it was better than fighting bare-knuckled. 

There was a time when wraps or gloves weren’t allowed. People liked the blood and violence, and craved someone to come out victorious by taking the other’s life.

Fucking sickos if anyone asked him. 

Bakugou slung his gym bag over his shoulder and shouldered his way past you since you had yet to say a word after that initial, begrudging praise. He couldn’t care less if you hung around but he wasn’t going to stick around for the damn media to catch whiff of this fight.

Once it was leaked that he had won, they would take a percentage of his cut and he would have to go without food for another week just to pay rent on that shitty place he stayed at. 

It wasn’t much but it was better than the streets.

“Wait.” You called out, inwardly chastising yourself for being so pathetic. 

You weren’t star-struck or nothing, so why were you feeling so tongue-tied?

Taking a deep breath when he snapped his head around to glare at you in annoyance for stopping him, you rolled your eyes when he tapped his foot impatiently. 

“You gonna take all fucking night, extra?” Bakugou barked at you, clearly not playing around. 

Your eyes widened as the metal plates on his left arm clinked together as he raised up his fist threateningly.

“I’ve got places to go and shit to do.” He grumbled. “So if you’re just going to stand there like a fucking—”

“Do you want to be a part of Aizawa’s gym?” You blurted out before he could get too carried away on his rant.

Bakugou arched an eyebrow in surprise. He hadn’t been expecting that. It was rare that the scruffy old man took on recruits.

Huffing, he stuffed his hands in his pockets and scrutinized you. “Who the hell are you?”

You cringed at how rough his voice laced with suspicion came out but you supposed you could understand. 

Collectors were far too common these days, usually rich scouts from corporations that searched for talented fighters to partake in their financial war when it turned bloody.

You weren’t really sure how it was possible for those airheads to train delinquents into soldiers for their military to fight in the wars that they created, but all you were really concerned about was dodging those scouts.

They weren’t people to trifle with.

Bakugou’s suspicions were misplaced this time around though and you jutted out your hip, planting your hand on it as you regarded him disinterestedly. 

There was only one thing that you could say to get him to trust you.

“He’s my dad.” You said quietly.

The boxer nearly choked on air and you flashed him a cheeky grin when he whipped his head around to glare at you.

“Fuck, seriously?”

You nodded and a heavy exhale whooshed out of his lungs in one breath.

Bakugou cocked up an eyebrow, seeing you in a completely different light. “Holy shit.”

You resisted the urge to dash away under his intrigue but you flinched when his eyes landed on you again.

“Sorry.” Bakugou muttered, averting his eyes. “Just never seen one before.”

You scratched the back of your neck, a habit you picked up from your introverted father whenever he was put in uncomfortable situations. “Yeah…”

Children weren’t born anymore, it was illegal. Partly because expenses couldn’t be covered if people got pregnant and partly because the kids would have nowhere to go, but mostly because the government wanted a controlled population. 

By controlling the gene pool, they could create whoever and whomever they chose, placing them in different status’ around the world to fill in the gaps and create the perfect society.

Except, it really wasn’t all that perfect.

You had been a product of your mom and dad’s unconditional love for each other, something else that was also forbidden, especially in the underground cities where disease ran rampant and claimed numerous innocent lives everyday. 

Your mother wasn’t dead but she did have to leave soon after you were born to protect you from the government officials that would come if she stayed.

Your dad was heartbroken but once every three years, the three of you were reunited under the bridge where seagulls cried and the waves crashed upon the shore.

Once upon a time.

Bakugou crossed his arms over his chest, his bicep bulging and you were willing to wager that he specifically got those measurements for his metal arm tailored to those specifications just so his huge muscles were distractingly the same size. 

He was still not entirely convinced you were who you said you were. He knew that you had to at least be a bastard’s biological child, no one was bold enough or fucking stupid to say that much out loud, but he still wasn’t sure that the old man was your dad.

Not bothering to be discreet as he eyed you up and down, he motioned for you to give him a little more information.

“Aizawa, huh?” Bakugou drawled. “You don’t fucking look like a brat that belongs to him.”

Clearing your throat, you smirked. Now you were the one tapping your foot impatiently. “Thanks, I’m told I have my mother’s eyes.”

He glared at your sarcasm but you didn’t care.

Craning your neck to the side to get a better look at that beautiful arm of his, you pouted when he ducked out of range.

“Prove that he’s your dad.” He demanded and you feigned innocence before shooting him a grin when he rolled his eyes irritably. 

Crossing your arms over your chest, you responded cheekily, “Coffee and cats are his two favorite things in the world, and he only tolerates Uncle Hizashi on a whim when he’s wasted.”

Bakugou barked out laughing and you smiled at the boisterous sound escaping from his lungs. 

“So,” You kicked your feet, scuffing the dirt as you sidled over to him. “You in or what?”

His left arm glinted in the dim, flickering light of the alcove and he tucked in his chin the slightest bit to stare down at you, the corner of his mouth quirked up.

“Hell yeah.”

Exactly one year later, you were weaving in between the clustered bodies in the dingy underground bar you were at to make your way to the obnoxious and rowdy group in the back, all while balancing a tray of beers in one hand.

They had just arrived a few minutes ago, eagerly chatting with your dad, who was their trainer, even though he looked like he’d rather be anywhere else but here.

Your skirt flared around your ankles as you sashayed through the crowd dancing on the dancefloor, a couple strands of hair sticking to your forehead from the exertion of how many tables you waited on already.

“First round’s here!!” You announced, beaming brightly at the packed group of 15.

Shoji, Mineta, and a few others couldn’t make it due to conflicting schedules. But it was alright, they would come again another time. Besides, you were quite sure that a special someone couldn’t care less if they made it or not for this particular day. 

“YES!!” Kaminari shouted escatically, throwing his hands up in the air.

A chorus of “thank you’s” came from the girls as Ashido eagerly reached for her first drink of the night, downing half the bottle in one go. You predicted she was going to be out like a light within the hour if she kept that pace up. 

“Don’t get shitfaced, Kaminari.” Jirou twirled a strand of her dark hair cockily as she teasingly held the last one out of arm’s reach. “Lightweight.”

“Jirou!!” Kaminari protested while the table burst into laughter.

The edgy fighter eventually gave into him, shaking her head in disapproval when he proceeded to chug all of it straight like it was some kind of shot. A knowing smirk appeared on her face when he choked.

“Told you so.” She rubbed in his face as Asui leaned into her side.

“Shut up!!” Kaminari shouted between violent bouts of coughing. It only got worse when Ashido slapped his back, already drunk.

But the slight pink dusted across his cheeks clued you in on what he was really doing.

You shook your head. If he was any more dense, you would’ve smacked him upside the head. Maybe then he would’ve come to his senses and that he didn’t need to do all these things to impress her. 

Jirou never hated anything more than someone who felt fake to her.

As you distributed the rest of the drinks to a clueless Todoroki, a way too eager Midoriya, and handed water to Koda, who thanked you shyly with a small nod.

You smiled at him, then left to the bar that your uncle was managing to get the order for the next table while Iida shouted for everyone to make sure they drank responsibly so that they didn’t cause any problems for you. 

But it was largely ignored in favor of raising their beers in a toast for the birthday boy.

Bakugou scowled in the corner that he was shoved into, wondering why he of all people had to be dragged to this shitty celebration for a birthday he couldn’t care less about. It was too loud here and it was making his head hurt. The only consolation he got was that you were a rare sight, wearing a dress that he had bought for you a week ago.

The seamstress who had made it for him specifically had charged him an incredible amount of money for it, since fabric of any kind that wasn’t made from recycled garbage liners was nearly impossible to come by.

But being a part of the ring of fighters that made up Aizawa’s Warriors gave him credibility and enabled him to make even more money than he did before, so it wasn’t a problem.

That much. 

After rent on his rundown place and scrounging for food, he had saved up the rest for weeks before he was able to afford the pale blue satin dress edged with delicate white lace around the sleeves that cascaded off your shoulders. The tightly-fitted bodice that wrapped around your waist was a simple leather corset, accentuating those curves of yours more than should be legally allowed.

You looked absolutely delicious. 

You continued to sweep around the tavern, oblivious to the looks you were getting. You had a bit of expertise in waitressing due to the lack of income your dad was able to provide so you had to convince him that you really didn’t mind helping out with the staff tonight.

The bar, owned by your Uncle Hizashi, a retired fighter but not retired in spirit, had all the profits go to the orphanages the city couldn’t keep track of or be bothered to pay for; which enabled those kids who were abandoned to have a roof over their heads in all the uncertainty.

The state of those houses holding those homeless children were horrendous. 

But your dad and uncle were taking steps to create something new that would provide them with some relief and a new family.

Kirishima clapped the ash-blond on the shoulder, jarring him out of his annoyance. “Come on, Bakugou, loosen up!!” 

He clicked his tongue and scowled at the red-haired guy’s energy. No one would think that this fun-loving guy and people person would be such a terrifying fighter in the arena.

Kirishima frowned when he noticed his lack of enthusiasm. “C’mon man, I know this isn’t your scene but Y/N worked really hard on this.”

Bakugou’s drink nearly spilled as he set it down abruptly. He wasn’t expecting that. Aizawa had told him that his friends had arranged this.

Picking up on his confusion, Kirishima then proceeded to tell him about how you gathered everybody to ask if they’d be willing to attend the party and how all of them enthusiastically said yes. You had gotten special permission from your Uncle Hizashi to borrow the VIP section of his bar and convinced your father to go easy on their training today. 

Really, the grumpy man with the metal arm should be thanking you since you were the reason all of them weren’t sore to death with barely enough energy to keep their heads up. 

Kirishima was going to blame it on Aizawa. He was tough on them. Too tough. No one should be that determined to make their students push past their limits but everyone knew it came from him caring more than anyone else. 

They were all like his adopted children, in a weird, skewed way. But, no one was going to argue against it. None of them had their biological parents in the picture. 

Besides, Aizawa had enough room for them all to crash in his home. An abandoned mansion overrun with thick green vines but had no working electricity whatsoever looked like something straight out of one of those old horror movies back in the 3000s. 

Bakugou scoffed. Like hell should he care about whether or not you planned this. He didn’t ask you to do any of this, you decided to do it all on your own. 

“Whatever.” He grumbled, snatching his bottle before stalking away from his shocked friends left in the dust. 

Todoroki raised an eyebrow as Kirishima sighed and Midoriya’s expression saddened when he saw him leave. They were supposed to be celebrating…

And yet, all three of them knew why today was so hard for the explosive boxer.

You frowned as you noticed the slumped figure retreating to the back of the establishment. Finishing up serving the drinks for the table you were waiting on, you briefly made a detour to your uncle and asked if it was alright that you take a break.

Ever the doting uncle who loved to spoil you rotten, Mic’s eyes softened understandingly when he noticed who you were staring after and granted you permission.

“Just don’t tell your dad I let you off the hook.” He bargained with an exaggerated wink and you giggled.

“I won’t.” You reassured, setting down the tray and squeezing his hand in thanks.

Then, you followed Bakugou. 

He disappeared around the corner and as soon as you tailed him, you came to a stop in front of a heavy door. Your brow furrowed, wondering why he would be coming here. 

Step after familiar step you took until you eventually came to a standstill on the roof.

Behind you, the heavy door slammed close but it sounded different than usual. Something metal crashed into it, denting it by the sounds of it, and it wasn’t until you turned around that you found Bakugou’s vermilion eyes boring into yours.

The wind was stronger up here and you pinned your arms down to your side, knowing full well from experience how mortifying it would be if your skirt decided to flip up right now.

“What the fuck are you doing up here?” He snapped angrily.

To his surprise, you didn’t look the least bit fazed by his outburst.

“I live here.” You responded nonchalantly, undeterred by his characteristic abrasiveness. 

If Bakugou was startled at that revelation, he didn’t show it. If anything, he looked even more irked, though you didn’t know why. He didn’t have any reason to suspect you of lying but in this world, it was safer to be skeptical than sorry.

However, you hadn’t given him one reason to doubt you the entire year you’ve known him. Not one.

So if anything, he trusted you more than the majority of the rats in his rundown city and just as much as his small circle of extras. 

Picking your way past him carefully since the roof didn’t have a safety rail, you made your way towards the curtained tent hiding behind the generator. Pushing the tattered material back, you showed him the bedroll and small table set up with a few bottles of water, a case of beer and a worn book. 

Bakugou’s mouth dropped open but he recovered quickly so by the time you turned back around, he had the same indifferent, kind of irritated look on his face.

Then, he was a bit at a loss of what to do. It wasn’t often he was faced with the dilemma of being wrong so blatantly. Should he apologize? Even when he didn’t say anything but the thought that you were crazy ran through his head? Should he apologize for something you weren’t even aware of?

Nah, fuck that.

You gingerly took a seat at the edge of the roof, leaning back on your hands as your legs dangled. Patting the spot next to you invitingly, a soft smile curved on the corners of your mouth as he grumbled but came over anyway. He plopped down on your right side and you took a moment to study him. 

He looked exhausted, spirit whittled down to the bone until there was nothing left for him to salvage. His eyes were bloodshot and the beer bottle in his hand probably wasn’t doing any favors for him.

Glancing at him out of the corner of your eyes, you asked worriedly, “You okay?”

He huffed in annoyance at your question.

“Fine.” He ground out through clenched teeth and you shut your mouth.

Bakugou clearly wasn’t looking to talk but you yearned to help. You wanted to be there for him. 

Kirishima hadn’t told you much, only that the incident that took Bakugou’s arm happened a long time ago and wasn’t something he liked to relive. 

You didn’t push it. You had your own share of traumatic experiences in this god-forsaken place and hated nothing more than being forced to talk about by a well meaning friend. So you understood it well. 

Instead of pushing the topic, you sat with him in silence. You didn’t ask why he walked away from the party or why it looked like he was drowning himself in his sorrows to forget something, you just offered him a quiet place to sit, with the company of yours truly.

Fate was flawed. You knew that ever since you were born.

The warped sense of justice that the city had was suffocating. People were put away in prison only to be left to rot with no chance of redemption. Those that made it out were casted out to the underground with no hope to see the light. 

Combatants-for-hire wasn’t an unusual job to take on in the ruined city. All Might knew you too had been mixed up in some shit. 

But it was what made you strong in the end.

“I’m here.” Was all you said softly, staring out at the city lights that were especially illuminating tonight.

Thanks to the heavy pollution, the stars could no longer be seen with the naked eye so this was the closest thing you could get to those twinkling lights raised high in the sky. 

“It’s funny.”

You tilted your head towards him as he spoke and was a bit surprised to find him looking directly back at you with an expression you couldn’t quite decipher. 

His eyes were a little dazed, probably from the alcohol, but he looked a little more grounded than he did a minute ago.

Bakugou chuckled but it was short and grated against your ears for a second.

It was mocking.

He tipped his head back, downing the rest of his drink before harshly wiping his mouth with the back of his hand while he crushed the bottle in his metal fist.

Leaning over, he let go and let the shiny crystals plummet to the ground below. 

You smiled faintly, watching how they sparkled. It looked so pretty. 

Sitting back down, Bakugou mimicked your posture and huffed out a dry laugh. “Out of all the shitty extras in the world, you would be the only one to fucking get through to me.”

Your puzzlement must’ve shown through his alcohol-induced haze because the next thing you knew was that he teetered to the side as he lost control of his equilibrium and careened into you.

Out of reflex, you caught him and gasped at the temperature difference as his cold metal arm pressed against you. You could feel it through the thin fabric of your dress and latched onto it when he moved to pull away.

“Sorry.” Bakugou slurred curtly as he gathered his bearings and tried to detangle you from him. 

But his coordination wasn’t the best and he was growing more and more frustrated when you wouldn’t let go.

He snarled. “Let go.”

You shook your head firmly. “You could fall.”

Oh yeah. You two were on the roof. 

This was a bad idea. 

He didn’t know how he ended up here with you but he needed to leave. Immediately. 

Bakugou stumbled to his feet, somehow managing to lose his way halfway to the door and face-planted in something that smelled faintly of lavender. Snuggling into the soft thing that was rubbing against his face, his brow furrowed in annoyance as you giggled at him.

“You have to take me out on a date first if you want that.” You teased lightly and he immediately sat up as he realized he had crashed in your bed.

He scrambled upright, nearly falling over again in his haste. “Fuck, I’m—”

“It’s alright, Katsuki.” You reassured nonchalantly, coming down to sit beside him, but not close enough where your legs were touching.

Bakugou’s mouth twitched at the sound of his first name but his eyes softened the barest bit and he didn’t fight against it. 

Before he met you, he hated his name. It was a reminder that the place he came from was from a lab, cooked up like some sort of sick science experiment to fulfill a role in society that was chosen by some prick who had money.

It was a reminder that he wasn’t real. That he was expendable to all those bastards that ran the world.

But when you used it, when you spoke it with such tentative curiosity and genuine concern, he didn’t feel so unimportant anymore.

“Fuck.” Bakugou breathed as you leaned closer to examine his face.

Your forehead creased in worry and you raised a hand to his head to check his temperature to make sure he wasn’t running a fever. “Are you feeling alright?”

Squeaking when he suddenly grabbed your hand, you gasped in shock when he tugged you towards him. 

You crashed into his chest and your cheeks flushed hotly as his chiseled form honed from years of training molded against your front. 

His arm wrapped around your shoulders and it took a second to realize that his metal arm was planted firmly on the ground, keeping the two of you steady. 

But when you reached out your fingers to brush against it, he ripped away from you.

You pulled back immediately, apology weighing in your gaze as your eyes flicked away from him. “I’m sorry, I—”

“It’s fucking hideous.”

You balked at his tenor. “W-What?!”

Bakugou looked away from you, his gaze fixed on the ground behind you as he rested his chin on top of your head, stubbornly refusing to look you in the eye as you breathed steadily against the base of his neck.

You were warm. Delicate.

Precious.

He didn’t expect someone like you to understand.

His vermilion eyes were shadowed by the ghosts of his past that continued to haunt him and he sighed heavily, curling his arm around you tighter. He didn’t want to let you go just let but he didn’t know why you weren’t pushing him away. 

Your soft voice rang out. “Katsuki, what do you mean? It’s not hideous at all.”

He clicked his tongue but otherwise didn’t verbalize his disagreement. 

“How could someone like you possibly understand this shit?” He spat but you didn’t recoil like he was half hoping you would.

At least then he would have an excuse to leave, under the guise that he had upset you. But you didn’t do any of that. 

Too fucking precious. Always saw the good in everything just like that shitty nerd. 

You closed your eyes in defeat. “No��� I suppose I can’t.”

You didn’t quite understand him. 

The bite in his tone sounded like you had hit too close to home, and yet, his thumb was absentmindedly running over the satin of your dress that he had bought you, your side heating up under his chest and warmth bloomed from your heart.

And yet, he wasn’t pushing you away.

Leaning down, you rested your forehead against his shoulder, your heart beating too loud for your own ears. “You don’t have to say anything, but I know what it feels like to be an outcast too.”

Bakugou eyed you cautiously, wondering if this was some sort of trick because he was drunk and definitely not as attentive as normally but your tone was open.

Honest. 

“Yeah, maybe you do.” He scoffed, scorning you under his breath. “Maybe you don’t. It doesn’t fucking matter to me.”

“Maybe it doesn’t.” You whispered, tracing patterns on his chest as your head lolled to the side to gaze at him with complete vulnerability. “But just know that you aren’t alone.”

Bakugou whipped his head around as you stared at him. Didn’t you get it already? He didn’t want to fucking taint you with all of this shit that went on down here.

He didn’t want to tell you that he had to settle tinkering with whatever scrap metal he could find in the junkyard just to make his left arm operational again, didn’t want to tell you that the government had offered him a real replacement prosthetic but at the cost of becoming one of their combatants fighting in a war he never chose and as a result, he was casted to the side when something went wrong.

He had lost everything. 

The second he had been tossed out on the street, he had come crawling back to Kiko, a spunky little girl a part of the UA orphanage in the east, one of the ones that Mic funneled money towards to fund their food and supply them with fresh water every three days.

The girl, no more than ten at the time, with her dirty blonde pigtails sticking out on either side of her lopsided head, had been born with a unique appearance.

The officials called it a defect, as though they were talking about an object of mass production.

Fucking disgusting.

It never seemed to bother the girl though, and she often claimed that she was tougher than all those men in fancy suits. Bakugou liked her spirit already.

Kiko had had this habit of tracing her stubby little fingers all over the scars from his fights whenever he came to visit and it had been her idea to forgo a realistic prosthetic from the corporation that was looking to hire him and just go out, full badass, just like Bucky in the Winter Soldier.

It was her favorite movie but Bakugou claimed he had absolutely no idea where she learned that kind of language from. 

He had chuckled and patted her on the head at the time, swearing to hell and back that there was no fucking way he was going to build a metal arm. He would scare the kids if he did that, not to mention, full-grown adults.

But Kiko simply bounded over to him and beamed up at him like nothing was wrong in the world. It was fucking contagious, begging for him to at least consider it, selling the point of how cool it would look.

“You would be a superhero, Bakugou!!” She cheered, raising her hands up high, demanding for him to lift her up even though she wasn’t five anymore. “And you could save everybody, just like you want to!!”

He never got a chance to show her the finished product. Would she have liked it? Would she run around, screaming in his shitty apartment as she played with it when he detached it for cleaning? Would she try to hit him over the head with it when she thought he wasn’t looking like the cheeky brat he knew that she was?

Bakugou could hear her squeals of excitement so vividly some nights that he woke up from his terror of that night, soaked in cold sweat from a memory of the girl he had failed to save.

Defeated and overwhelmed by his circumstances after being rejected by the very people who sought him out because of his talent, he had ventured to the orphanage that night and on a whim, demanded her to live with him. He would take care of her, protect her, teach her things that she couldn’t learn from anyone else.

The widest smile he had ever seen stretched across Kiko’s face and she accepted his demands with eyes tearing up with joy. 

He vowed to protect her. 

He failed. 

He had an unsettled score with the government officials he had upset on his way out from the lab that day they told him he had been scraped from the program. 

The enraged fighter went on a rampage, tearing down anything in his path and clearing out the experiment rooms, offering freedom and a second chance to anyone willing and brave enough to take it. 

And as a result, many took him up on his offer and fled that place with white walls and food too bland to actually be considered nutritious.

There was no doubt about it. He pissed them off the day he saved the others.  

They had come for her and taken her last year on his birthday as revenge for freeing those they were experimenting on. He found a crumpled, poorly wrapped, newspaper covered package lost in the clutter of his apartment when he got home.

The creaking old door that kept out winter drafts had caved in, signifying that it had broken in with considerable force, and Kiko was gone.

That crushed gift hidden under the stairwell was the only thing that remained of her.

Inside, there was a small metal pin in the shape of an explosion. For his personality. Corny, but the little girl was simple-minded and liked the sentiment she found in things that she repurposed. 

Bakugou always thought it was fucking weird but he hadn’t taken it off ever since that day. 

The metal plates of his arm glided, clinking together softly as the polished steel lifted to trace your jaw, the pin visible on the inside of his wrist.

To keep her close to him always.

He had stormed their stronghold but by the time he got there, they were gone. Everything.

Every vial, all the equipment, every single one of the samples and officials had disappeared into thin air. 

Bakugou had tried everything to track Kiko down, paying off the highest crime organizations to get more eyes out on the street but nothing worked. She was gone.

And she wasn’t ever going to come back.

You were silent when he finished telling you his depressing life story, sure you were bored to death but when he started to get up, he found that he couldn’t get very far with you draped over his body like this.

Bakugou had a fleeting thought that you had fallen asleep while he had been lamenting and rehashing every depressing detail from his past but he noticed the stuttering rise and fall of your back.

Well, at least you weren’t asleep, but now he didn’t know how to feel when he had told you all of that and you had yet to say anything.

“I know you don’t want pity.” You whispered into his shoulder.

He raised an eyebrow but waited for you to continue.

“I know there’s nothing that I can say that would make the pain go away or bring Kiko back,” You said softly. “But I’m here for you.”

Bakugou pressed his cheek against your hair and inhaled your sweet scent, closing his eyes as an unseen weight lifted from off of his shoulders. 

“Thank you.” He murmured quietly with great difficulty. 

You smiled slightly, glad that you were able to provide him with a little bit of comfort. “Anytime.”

The two of you stayed entwined for a few more moments, time stretching as he held onto you, soaking up your soothing presence while you relaxed against his hold.

“Katsuki?” You called quietly when he still didn’t let go after five more minutes.

Tightening his arm around you, he frowned when you struggled in his grip. 

“Stop fucking moving.” He demanded and you ceased fighting in favor of pulling back to flick him on the forehead. “Oi, did you just fucking flick me?!”

“Yes.” You replied bluntly, snickering when he rolled his eyes. 

There he was.

Bakugou protested hotly when you pushed down his arms to untangle from him but you shushed him with a giggle, leaning back to open the box of beer by your bed, grabbing two bottles and fishing for something from underneath your pillow

In the underground city where liquor was the only thing that was plentiful, you would take what you could get. 

Bakugou caught the beer that you threw at him in midair with an expression a mix between annoyance that you tossed it at his face and gratitude that you knew how he needed another drink after that tale. 

“What the fuck is that for?” He scoffed, pointing to the roll of gauze in your hand. “You get a papercut or some shit?”

You rolled your eyes in disbelief, failing to notice how his eyes raked over you to look for any kind of injury you might be hiding from him, and held it up to him. “No, but it looks like you did.”

He almost spilled his beer that he just popped the lid off of, mouth furrowing in a deep-seated frown when he followed your gaze and landed on the cuts on his knuckles from the fight that happened earlier that night.

“Fuck.” He cursed, setting down the beer hard to wipe up the blood.

He hadn’t even known when he got hurt. 

But he didn’t even get started on tending to it when your gentle hands wrapped around his and you took over for him. 

“Here.” You murmured, pouring some water onto a clean cloth and dabbing carefully at his cuts. “Let me.”

“You’re fucking weird.” Bakugou grumbled but allowed you to take over. 

Your touch was so much lighter than the rough pads of his fingers. He was always too impatient whenever he had to patch himself up, jerking at the bandages to get them to lay flat when they wouldn’t cooperate.

It was a fucking pain to stop the bleeding when his shitty fingers fumbled with it. It was a trip to hell and back every single time he had to attend to wounds he got from boxing.

Your nose scrunched up in concentration as you finished cleaning the area before securely wrapping the soft cotton around his knuckles.

“There.” You declared in satisfaction, sitting back on your knees.

Admiring your handiwork with an unreadable expression, it was a second before Bakugou nodded begrudgingly with thanks.

“It’s not complete shit.” 

You giggled. “Thanks.”

He picked back up his drink and took a swig.

Offering up yours, you hid your surprise when he actually recognized the gesture and clinked his glass against yours.

The distinct hum from the music in the establishment below filtered up to the roof, filling the silence and the occasional echo of steel grating against each other. The low lights were pleasant and the ambiance was soothing as you two drank away the night.

You shivered, catching a chill as the night air blew by, but before you could reach for your blanket, Bakugou was tucking you in his side. 

“Get over here, dumbass.” He mumbled, turning his face away so that you wouldn’t see his blush. “You’re gonna get fucking sick.”

You noticed how he still kept your metal arm away from you. That wound was still too fresh and somehow you had a feeling that no matter how much time would pass, things would never quite be the same again.

Playing with the hem of your dress, you smiled softly. “But I wanted to wear it today, it was a special occasion.”

Special occasion his ass. It was fucking freezing out here and all you were wearing was that summer dress. His brow knitted as you puffed out your cheeks, breath visible, and he wasn’t so sure he wanted to leave you out here when it was so cold out.

“I’m sorry.” Bakugou apologized quietly as you lost interest in toying with the pale blue satin and folded your hands neatly in your lap.

At your questioning gaze, he suppressed the urge to roll his eyes but heat crept up his neck.

“For storming out on the celebration you planned, dumbass.” He grumbled, flicking you on the forehead in a similar fashion hat you had done earlier.

Whining, you held onto your forehead as you made an exaggeration of pain. He rolled his eyes at your antics and you giggled, snuggling further into his side.

“You’re warm.” You mused.

Bakugou scowled, cheeks still pink from the embarrassment tingling through his whole body. “Oi, are you fucking ignoring m—”

“Of course not.” You retorted, pinching his side in retaliation for the flick he gave you before your voice dropped a little. “It’s just— There isn’t anything you need to apologize for. I understand.”

Those words, they were so simple and yet, warmth bloomed in his chest from how they fell from your lips. 

And he could see that you were truly genuine.

He had rejected your kindness earlier when Kirishima had told him you had planned out all of this for him. He had never quite been accustomed to generously that lacked a price or some kind of condition.

Then again, he had never met someone quite like you. 

As you rested against his shoulder, Bakugou took the empty beer bottle from you and placed it on the other side of him so that you didn’t break it and cut yourself when you woke up from your little nap.

He gazed out into the city that had caused him so much misery and wondered how it was even possible for someone like you to exist.

Birthdays, he still hated them, but maybe, just maybe, he could start to heal.

It would start by telling that old man that you fucking needed a new place to sleep that wasn’t the goddamn roof.

It was a good thing he knew just the place you could go.

Brushing back the hair out of your eyes, he allowed a small smile to form on his face as you breathed softly, evenly and he smirked against the top of your head as a thought crossed his mind. And even though he knew you couldn’t hear him, he still murmured quietly.

“How do you feel about seagulls and sand, princess?”

[rkived]

year 22 (m) — jjk

‘‘I knew you’d be standing in my front porch light, and I knew you’d come back to me.’‘ 

Pairing: childhoodfriend!jk x f!reader 

Genre/Tags: angst!!!, drama, a lil fluff, f2l, e2l-ish, pining, slow burn, smut

Rating: M +18

WC: 11.5k

Warnings: time jumps, underage drinking, jk being a douchebag for most of the fic, reader can’t catch a mf break, mention of character death ((no major one tho)). smut in the form of oral (f. receiving), fingering, nipple play, unprotected sex ((wrap it b4 u tap it y’all)), my being called pretty kink making a brief appearance soz

A/N: i listened to cardigan for the first time n had it on replay the whole time i wrote this so ig u should do it too ! this is my first time posting smut on here but who would i be if i didn’t throw in some good angst ? also tysm to @periminkle​ for being my unofficial beta reader n checking it up for me, she knows i’m constantly looking for her validation n i def wouldn’t post this if she didn’t love it ilu vira thx for being the best ever mwah !!! 

You’re five, cowering behind his mother’s legs, sniffing as tears stream down your face. In front of you both stands Jungkook, there’s remorse written all over his face as his mother stares him down with hands on her hips and a look that just screams that this is only the beginning of his punishment. 

‘’Apologize to Y/N right now Jungkook, or I’ll have your father have a word with you,’’ she threatens with a stern tone, making her son quickly shake his head no. ‘‘You need to learn how to share your toys.’’ 

You peek behind her lanky leg and find the slightly older kid looking at you with narrowed eyes, ‘‘I’m sorry, Y/N.’’ He apologizes with a bow, but he’s obviously displeased with the whole ordeal. 

His mother sighs and Jungkook pouts at the look on her face. She urges you to come out from your not-so-secret hiding spot and to go back to playing with him, even though you seriously doubt that will do any good to what just happened. 

Jungkook’s bedroom door is kept open as he sits back down on his city patterned carpet, you twiddle with your thumbs and stare at the Spiderman poster on his wall. There’s an awkward silence between you two until you feel a toy bump your crisscrossed legs. 

It’s the shiny red car he had refused to lend you before, provoking an argument between you two which eventually made you run out of his room in tears as you ratted him out to his mom. 

‘‘Wooow,’’ you whisper in awe, taking the car in your hands with so much care, treating it like it’s one of your newest dolls. 

Jungkook huffs, crossing his arms as he looks at you with distaste and he’s forced to settle with other boring toys as you giggle to yourself, making the car follow the carpet’s tracks. He learns then to never trust his mother again. If she ever says she’ll bring a new friend for him to play with again, he’ll refuse wholeheartedly.

He doesn’t like sharing his toys, and it’ll probably take him a long time to learn how to.

You’re nine as you hand Jungkook one of the multiple Valentine’s Day cards you carefully crafted the night before with your mother, adding all kinds of pretty stickers and shiny glitter to make each one of them unique. His is different from the rest, though. 

You added hearts to the dots in the I’s, there’s a hint of your favorite body splash enveloping the pink construction paper and it fills Jungkook’s nostrils with so much force that he feels he could gag at the smell. 

‘‘What do you think?’’ You ask the fourth-grader with a big smile on your face, cheeks tinted with a light shade of red as you see him reading the little message you wrote inside the card.

Jungkook lets out a mocking chuckle, ‘‘Are you serious? You like me?’’ He asks you, but it doesn’t look like he’s looking for answers. Your smile slowly fades away, looking at him with glossy eyes, ‘‘I don’t like you, you’re just a dumb little girl.’’ 

His card was the one you had invested the most time in and yet it only took him a second to crumple it with his hand, and another five for him to toss it into the trash can near you before he goes back to his group of friends in the school’s playground.

You learn how to hold your tears in then, thinking it’s a great accomplishment and that maybe now he’ll stop calling you a crybaby.

His friends receive him with high-fives and he smiles with gratefulness because they just saw how much of a badass he can be. Once recess is over and everyone’s going back to their classrooms, Jungkook nears the garbage bin where he had thrown the Valentine's card in, but finds it’s now dirty with yogurt someone tossed inside. 

He grimaces at the sight and sighs, there’s no way he can save it now.

You’re twelve and you’re the only girl in the treehouse who hasn’t gone through puberty yet. It wasn’t something that bothered you until just recently, when it became pretty evident why none of the boys would even give you a onceover compared to the other girls.

“I don’t know if I want to play,” you mumble after Kim Jihyo suggests playing spin the bottle. You’re the only one who opposes the idea, though you could count Jungkook in given as he just sat there without saying a word.

Park Yerim rolls her eyes, “You’re so boring, Y/N!” The comment makes the rest giggle as you pout at being the designated party pooper. 

It’s all fun and games of truth and dares to whoever the bottle lands on and you’ve been lucky enough to avoid the tip of the plastic Coca-Cola bottle to point at you, until it lands on Jungkook who has done a few funny dares so far.

“Alright, Jungkook, let’s make things even more fun!” Jihyo announces since she’s been the one who has assigned most of the embarrassing challenges and questions, “I dare you to kiss one of the girls here for ten seconds.” 

The dare makes the boys cheer with excitement and the girls gasp with anticipation, hoping one of them is the lucky chosen one. Your lips part slightly as you stare at him sitting across from you, he’s clearly not comfortable with the dare, but knowing him, he won’t express his current discomfort. 

His eyes land on you as you stare back at him with concern, hoping that he’ll speak up to avoid himself the embarrassment. Has he even kissed someone before? If this is his first kiss, you’ll witness it alongside everyone else and you can only imagine how terrifying that must be. Even though Jungkook’s always been a brave kid, you can always tell when he feels under pressure.

“Uhm, I’ll uh—“ Jungkook keeps staring at you and you feel your heart start to beat like you just ran the usual ten laps around the gym in P.E class. Are you about to have your first kiss? With him? 

You nod your head absentmindedly, a sign to let him know it’s okay for him to pick you from all the other developed girls who probably have more experience kissing than you do, but it’s okay because you’ve always been a quick learner. 

“Yeji,” Jungkook says after what feels like forever, though it’s only been a mere few seconds, “I’ll kiss Yeji.” He adds, removing his eyes from yours and settling them on the girl with the high ponytail and pink colored nails. 

You bite your bottom lip hard, breaking the dry skin as you feel yourself taste blood. It doesn’t matter because no one’s paying attention to you and instead they’re focused on Jungkook’s neverending kiss with Yeji. 

When you get home that night, you look at yourself in the mirror and frown at your lack of everything. Is this the reason as to why he hadn’t picked you? 

You’re fourteen and Kim Taehyung just sent you a message through MSN in which he confesses to have feelings for you. Your eyes widen, rereading the message several times, rubbing at your eyes just to make sure you’re seeing things correctly. 

You run off across the street to Jungkook’s house, ringing the doorbell quickly for someone to open up. You’re greeted by him looking at you with an annoyed expression, he had to pause his GTA game to come and open the door. 

“What do you want?” Jungkook asks harshly, crossing his arms as he stares into somewhere that’s not your face. He’s anxiously waiting for you to spit out whatever it is you’re there to say. 

You calm yourself down by breathing in deep and out, blowing the air right at him, “Does Taehyung like me?” You ask him, making Jungkook’s eyes widen in surprise and his brows to raise. 

His reaction tells you that you might’ve just discovered a secret you weren’t supposed to and it only makes your heart beat even faster because if it’s true, then this is a pleasant surprise. Kim Taehyung is one of the hottest boys in the tenth grade and he happens to be one of Jungkook’s closest friends. You think he must know something since you see them hanging out at lunch.

“Uh—I don’t know, Y/N.” Jungkook mumbles, rubbing at the back of his neck, finally looking at you and he feels a gut wrenching punch in his stomach at the sight. “Taehyung isn’t a really good guy, you shouldn’t—“ 

“What are you saying?” You interrupt him with a question, confused as to why Jungkook was painting a negative picture of his friend. “He was really sweet with what he said, he thinks my eyes are pretty when they sparkle — I didn’t even know they did that!” 

Jungkook grimaces and sighs, there’s really not much he can do here. You’ve always been so stubborn, so relentless. No matter how many times life tries to tell you something’s not meant for you, you challenge each and every one of it’s obstacles until you take what’s yours. 

“Okay, then what are you gonna do? Date him? You haven’t even had your first kiss yet.” Jungkook reminds you with a mocking tone and you furrow your brows together because, how does he know that? 

You stammer, “I-I have! I had it at camp last summer, actually!” That’s a lie, but he wasn’t there so he can’t prove the veracity of your statement. “And what do you care? So what if I want to date him?” You add with anger, not understanding why couldn’t he just support you in search of true love. 

The thought of dating Kim Taehyung had never crossed your mind, thinking he was way too out of your league for him to ever notice you. But that confession sitting in your MSN chat now served as a nice feeling of knowing you aren’t as invisible as you think you are. 

Jungkook scoffs, “Taehyung would never date you, okay? He’s older than you, he’s cool, he goes to parties and has kissed almost every girl in his grade, do you think he’d really like someone as boring as you?” He doesn’t mean to be so harsh, but you’re just so difficult and impossible to get through.

Jungkook’s used to the trembling bottom lip and the teary eyes that you give him everytime he says something that definitely strikes a nerve within you, but he’s always impressed on how you always refrain from crying in front of him. Last time you did that you were both kids and he probably took the last lollipop from your batch of collected halloween candy. 

“Screw you, Jungkook,” you say through gritted teeth, and if looks could kill, he’d be dead already. 

He looks at you quickly stomp your way back to your house, only heading back inside once you slam your front door shut. Jungkook enters his room to find two new messages in his MSN.

$$ kIm tAaEhyYyuNG $$: it worked! 

$$ kIm tAeEhyYyunGG $$: she fell for it xDxD where did u even come up with the sparkly eyes thing?? that’s gold bro rofl 

Jungkook sighs, ignoring the messages and shutting his computer down.

You’re sixteen and you’ve been invited to your first party. Granted, it was Jungkook’s, but he knew that if he didn’t ask you to come you’d probably tell on him with his mom. No matter what age he was, he’d always fear his mother’s scolding. 

“Drink this!” Park Jimin says with his beautiful smile and you’re starting to realize why they gave him that very same superlative on the school’s yearbook. You take the red solo cup without any second thought, placing the rim straight to your lips and choke once you feel the liquid burn your throat. 

“Ugh—What’s this?” You ask, cleaning the droplets of liquid around the corners of your mouth. 

He chuckles, “Fruit punch!” The liquid is indeed red like the familiar drink you’re used to, but there’s definitely something else mixed inside. “Oh, and vodka,” he adds with wiggly eyebrows as he shows off the small flask he was hiding in his sweatshirt’s front pocket.

You gasp and hand him the cup back, “No, I don’t drink alcohol, sorry.” Jimin rolls his eyes and it reminds you of the many times you’ve received this same reaction from your classmates before. Always a party pooper. He’s about to take the plastic red cup from you until you quickly drink the spiked punch in one go.

The boy howls in excitement, “Woo, go Y/N! Another one coming right up.” 

Jungkook knows he should be making sure everything’s alright downstairs. If his mother notices there’s at least one misplaced object, she’ll know right away something went down in her house while her husband and her were away for the weekend on an emergency trip to their hometown. Leaving him unsupervised only because they both believed their son was old enough to tend for himself.

But Jung Eunha had dragged him into his room with the excuse of wanting to see what it looked like, but the mini tour had turned into them kissing on his bed and Jungkook is thankful he changed his Spiderman sheets in exchange for some boring plain grey ones. Eunha smells like fresh mint and Jungkook is way into his head to focus on properly kissing her.

It’s not until his bedroom door is abruptly open, slamming against the wall that Jungkook literally jumps to his feet, making Eunha gasp as they both look at the person who has interrupted their awkward makeout session. 

“Guk-ah, what are you doin’?” You curiously wonder, a hiccup following right after which makes you giggle. Jungkook’s chest rises and falls with quickness as he notices you look different from the last time he saw you twenty minutes ago when you were talking to Jimin. “Guk-ah, were you—you kissin’ Eunha?” You ask once more after not receiving an answer to your previous question.

“Y/N, are you okay?” He asks in concern, coming closer to analyze your weird state. You stretch your arm out to avoid him from nearing you, making him falter in his place as he studies your expression. 

You hum, “Guk-ah, you busy. Sorry,” you apologize in a shy tone, ready to head back down and have more of that fruity alcohol punch you now found tasty, but you stumble and only avoid yourself from falling by holding onto Jungkook's door frame, he’s already reaching out by then. 

“Are you fucking serious, Y/N? Get out!” Eunha complains with irritation, getting up from the bed and ready to kick you out of his room, but his free arm stops her from getting near you. “Whu—?”

“Eunha, go back down. I’ll deal with her myself.” Jungkook says as calmly as he can, thinking three’s a crowd and dealing with you wasn’t an easy thing in of itself. She’s about to argue, but he interrupts her again, “Go down, now.” 

She rolls her eyes and bumps her shoulder against yours harshly once she steps out of his room, “Whatever, that kiss was shitty anyway.” 

He pretends he didn’t hear that and takes you in his arms instead, dragging you to lay on his bed as you cuddle into his favorite pillow and hug it close to your body. How much did you drink? Why did you even do it in the first place? Jungkook knows you’ve never tried alcohol before, which means he’ll be in big trouble if you show up back to your house like this. 

When you open your eyes hours later, your head hurts and it feels lightweight when you move it side to side. The room you’re in is familiar, that spiderman poster is still hung on the wall, but there are no more toys laying around the floor; they’ve probably been stored somewhere in his garage or sent off to a donation center under his mother’s demand.

The pillow that you’re hugging smells just like him and any other day you’d hold on to it tighter and inhale his scent like your life depended on it, but you abruptly sit on the bed as you’re reminded of how you got here. The action is not appreciated by your dizzy head, but you look around the room to notice how dark it is and there’s no more music playing downstairs. 

You quickly jump to the ground, only to hear a “Fuck, ouch!” from below, stepping on Jungkook’s leg unintentionally. It makes you gasp, looking down to notice the older friend laying on the cold floor, having gotten rid of that childhood carpet of his. His head’s laying on a makeshift pillow made out of a towel and he’s trying hard not to shiver. 

“I’m sorry, sorry, sorry!” You quickly apologize, stepping away from his figure as he soothes the shin of his leg you stepped on. “Jungkook, what happened?” 

He sighs, “Someone decided to drink like five cups of spiked punch knowing damn well it was their first time drinking alcohol, stepped into my room like a crazy person, and then crashed on my bed like they—What’s with the face?”

“Bathroom.”

Jungkook grimaces while he holds your hair back, you’re throwing away all the liquid you had taken with a few additional snacks you had munched on earlier, “Are you done?” He asks in a tired mumble and you shake your head no.

He feels guilty that you’re in this position. He didn’t even want to kiss Eunha, but she was one of the most popular girls in his grade and he knew that if he turned her down she would most likely put a bad word in with the rest of the girls and the guys would make fun of him for being such a wuss.

That would’ve been better, because after laying you down on his bed he had to go down and tell everyone that the party was over, putting an excuse that the neighbors had warned him and threatened to call the cops. They all cleared pretty quickly, but he knew he was going to be the butt of the jokes come Monday. He even had to call your parents to let them know you had gone home to a friend’s house for a sleepover, which he knew wasn’t totally believable, but it had somehow gotten them convinced that their daughter was alright because they trusted Jungkook to never hurt you ever. 

Once you feel like you’ve puked your stomach out, Jungkook hands you a pill accompanied with a glass of water and hands you clothes of his that might be more comfortable to sleep in. 

“Good night, Jungkook,” you whisper once you’re laying back on his bed, still hugging the pillow he preferred to sleep with. He makes a sacrifice to make it up to you. 

His back is going to hurt by the time the sun comes out in a few hours, but it’s okay if it means you’ll sleep comfortably after the events of tonight. “Good night, Y/N.” 

He’s unable to sleep, but finds entertainment in your hanging hand beside his bed. The skin on your palm looks soft and there’s this strange urge inside of him that makes him want to grab your hand in his, but he refrains. 

To calm the current chaos in his head, Jungkook finds peace in the light snores coming from his bed.

You’re just about to turn eighteen and your date to the prom is Jeong Jaehyun, who had only asked you out a day before the event because the girl he had initially wanted to take had been asked and he didn’t have a plan B. 

Jaehyun is okay, at least he managed to get you a corsage that matched the color of your dress. He even smiles in the pictures your parents take of you both as you awkwardly try to look comfortable with his arms around you even though by then you had only exchanged a few sentences. 

The prom’s theme is Summer Nights and you think it’s fitting considering this is the very last event before the graduation ceremony, meaning that you’d most likely never see most of these people ever again. You had purposely applied to a college that was outside of your hometown for that same reason. You’re ready to live the life you’ve always wanted to live, without anyone judging or knowing you. 

Your date spends most of the night talking with his group of friends as you’re left alone on your table, looking at your well manicured nails. You knew you weren’t going to get the same prom experience the high school kids on T.V enjoyed, but you at least hoped it would’ve been a little more fun than this.

A tap on your shoulder makes you turn around to see Jungkook trying to loosen the tight tie around his neck. He looks incredibly handsome and you suppose his mother helped him pick the suit out, Jungkook rarely ever wore fitted clothing, so this is one of those once in a lifetime moments..

“Hey you,” you say and he gives you half a smile, wondering why you’re sitting by yourself at an empty table when everyone else was either mingling or dancing. “Where’s your date?” You ask with curiosity, you’re surprised that Jinsoul isn’t trailing alongside him given how she had behaved for the past week ever since he asked her to come with him. 

“Retouching her face or something,” he answers casually, “what are you doing sitting here? Where’s Jaehyun?” Jungkook asks.

You shrug your shoulders, “Don’t know, probably talking with the guys of the basketball team. He’s been gone for a while.” Not like you care, anyway. If your conversation with him inside his car on the way to the venue had been any indication of what it would’ve been like for the rest of the night, you’re glad he's not here trying to make any more small talk with you.

Jungkook huffs, thinking he’ll kick his ass if he sees him. He had asked him to invite you so you wouldn’t come alone, and yet here you are, sitting all by yourself while the douchebag’s making a social life somewhere in the crowd. He calms down once he notices how unbothered you are by it, though. You’re a big girl now, you’ve been through too much to be affected by something as simple as this.

“Is there something you wan—“

“Dance!” You interrupt with excitement and Jungkook chuckles.

“I was gonna ask if you wanted something to drink, but—alright, let’s dance.” Jungkook can’t dance for shit, but you took lessons when you were younger and he can still remember how you’d always show him the routines you learned in class. He’d always boo you, but in reality you were pretty good. He wonders why you stopped, he doesn’t recall you ever telling him.

It’s just his luck that once you both step into the dancefloor, the hired DJ stops the up-tempo song playing before and switches to a much slower romantic one, “Alright everyone, I want all the couples on the dancefloor for this one.” 

You step away from him with nervousness, it’s couples only after all. But Jungkook holds onto your lower back firmly, pulling you closer into his space. Your eyebrows raise as your lips part, “Uh, s-should we, uh—?” 

“It’s just a song, Y/N. You wanted to dance, then we’ll dance.” He tells you with such confidence it makes you feel like this is totally normal and something all friends do. All the known High School couples are dancing together, heads tenderly placed over chests and chins resting lovingly above them. You wait for Jungkook to take the lead because you have no clue of what you should be doing, you might’ve taken dance lessons years ago but you’ve never slowed danced in your life. 

Jungkook places his hand on your hip, the touch makes goosebumps crawl in your arms. He pretends he doesn’t notice it as he takes your right hand in his. You stare at the way he delicately holds it like it’s his mother’s fine china. “Place your other hand on my shoulder,” he instructs and you do as asked, your palm coming to rest on the strong muscle. 

He’s only slowed danced once before at a family member’s wedding where his mother taught him how to, with her as the teacher. Back then he thought it was incredibly ridiculous, but now he’s sort of glad that happened because he’s the teacher now and you’re now looking at him with your big eyes as you sway alongside him. 

You clear your throat, “This isn’t that hard.” Jungkook nods as he stares down at you, noticing how uneasy you are given that you’re looking at everything and not entirely immersed in the moment.

“You look beautiful tonight.” He says out of nowhere, making you look at him like a deer stuck in headlights, cheeks flushed with embarrassment. He had never called you that before. 

An awkward laugh escapes your lips, looking away from his intense gaze as you try not to take his words too literally, “Ha ha, that was a good one.” To you there’s no other explanation than this being one of his mean pranks on you.

But Jungkook doesn’t falter both his words and gaze, “I’m not laughing.” There’s seriousness in his voice and you have to look back at him again just to make sure he really isn’t, “You look beautiful, just take the compliment.” You nod and there’s silence between you two after that. You’re digesting the romantic lyrics that the singer is talking about and hope that the song ends soon, because you’ve never been this close to him and it’s starting to feel too crowded.

You clear your throat, “So…” 

“So…,” he repeats. 

“What are you doing for summer?” You ask him in an attempt to break the tension and wanting to take advantage of the little intimate moment since Jungkook rarely ever lets you pry into his private life. 

“I think I’ll train before heading off,” he answers. It was more than obvious he was going to earn that sports scholarship he had been aiming for, he was one of the best athletes on the school; though you considered him to be the number one between them all. “I’m kinda scared, not gonna lie.” 

You look at him with surprise, tilting your head to the side, “You’re scared?” You ask in disbelief because as long as you’ve known him, he’s never been scared of anything. This is the same kid who instilled your fear of monsters in a closet after watching Monster’s Inc. together, also the same kid who helped you get over it after he realized you had actually taken it seriously.

He chuckles lightly, “Yeah, I’m just scared about starting over.” It’s interesting how his biggest fear is the one you’re looking forward to the most, but you suppose it’s fitting for someone who has never had to worry about what people think of him. In this town, Jungkook has swam freely without any concerns. Out there, he’s just another fish in the big and scary ocean. “Aren’t you?” He questions, hoping that you’re able to relate to what he’s feeling. 

“Honestly, I—“ 

You’re interrupted by Jaehyun clearing his voice in front of you two, making you both turn your heads towards his direction. You quickly separate from Jungkook and he feels his body lose the warmness you were providing. 

“If you wanted to dance, you could’ve just asked. I’m your date after all.” He says smugly and you chuckle awkwardly, nodding because he’s right. 

Jungkook wants to punch his stupid face, how dare he interrupt you both when he had been ignoring you the whole night? Why does he suddenly want to dance with you when he’s probably still upset at him for asking Jinsoul to the prom before he could?

“Your date’s looking for you, buddy. She doesn’t look too happy.” Jaehyun adds with a smirk as he takes your hand in his and drags you away from Jungkook towards another place on the dancefloor. 

He’s left to stare at the way he holds your hand, and he only hopes he’s doing it ever so carefully. 

You’re twenty when Jungkook sees you for the first time since you both left for college two and half a years ago. He’s rendered speechless when he spots you in the crowd, there’s a manly hand around your waist as you giggle into the stranger’s mouth before placing a kiss to his lips. 

There’s only so much social media can provide him, pictures and stories aren’t enough for Jungkook to keep up with you. He thinks you’ve changed, not only appearance wise but you seem way more outgoing, carefree, and happy. Did he miss the boyfriend announcement picture? He’s sure he didn’t, he checks your profile almost every day and he’s never even seen him in any of your stories. 

A gasp escapes your lips once you spot him, completely forgetting about the possibility of bumping into him given that both your schools were playing against each other that night. You tell Namjoon you’ll be right back and he nods, going back to a conversation with the group of college friends you had made. 

You surprise him by jumping into him, arms around his shoulders as you hug him from behind. You let out a shrill of excitement and he blushes as his friends chuckle at the unexpected approach from this unfamiliar girl. 

‘‘Jungkook! You didn’t tell me you’d be here,’’ you say once he turns around to face you and he’s able to see you better upfront. You look beautiful and he thinks the Instagram pictures are not doing you enough justice. You’re glowing, and it has nothing to do with the highlighter you applied on your face and collarbone area. 

The both of you aren’t able to properly talk until you suggest moving to a different area, Jungkook apologizing to his friends as he explained he needed to catch up with an old friend. They don’t complain and instead shoot him teasing looks and small pervy comments that go by unnoticed to you. 

Jungkook listens with intent to your ramble about what you’ve been up to. From your courses, to your roommates, the parties you’ve attended, and even the fact that you handle your alcohol better now. He’s happy that you seem so too, but it irks him that you hadn’t been capable of telling him that you had a boyfriend now. Is there a reason as to why you omitted that important piece of information? 

‘‘And what about you? How’s college?’’ You ask with curiosity. 

He blinks a few times, realizing you had stopped talking about yourself and was now wondering about him instead. ‘‘It’s fine,’’ he answers with a tight lipped smile, the lack of detail compared to you was astonishing, but even though you were still hungry for more you decided not to pry any further. 

There’s fear in revealing that he’s been having a hard time catching up with the rest of his peers. College was indeed fine, but it could be better. He’s settled with the idea that this is as good at it’ll get, some things just aren’t like you expect them to be. At least you’re happy, and that fact brings him comfort. 

‘‘Was that your, uhm─boyfriend?’’ He finally asks after a while, both about to head back to your respective group of friends. 

The question takes you by surprise, looking at him with raised eyebrows and mouth agape. ‘‘Who? Namjoon?’’ He nods, though he doesn’t know anything about the guy he had first seen you with. You let out a wholehearted laugh, ‘‘Hell no, too many commitment issues with that one,’’ you answer and Jungkook’s forehead creases with confusion. 

Why were you kissing him then? 

‘‘We’re friends with benefits,’’ you inform him as if you had read his mind. ‘‘He’s a nice guy, though. Also, super smart, he’s helped me with a few of my─’’ 

‘‘You’re not a virgin anymore?’’ He abruptly asks, disbelief in his tone as he internally screams to himself for thinking out loud. Jungkook expects you to berate him about such an imprudent question, but is surprised when he sees you giggling. 

‘‘Duh, silly. I think I lost it freshman year?’’ The carelessness in your voice makes him look at you like you’ve gone crazy. Why are you so lax about this? Why are you telling him about losing your virginity without a care in the world? ‘‘Anyway, are you going to be home for the─’’

Jungkook interrupts you once again, ‘‘Was it with your boyfriend at the time?’’ He asks in genuine curiosity and you sigh, rolling your eyes slightly at him. 

‘‘No, it was some random dude at this party I went to. Could you please─’’

‘‘Y/N, are you insane? Why would you give up your virginity to some fucking stranger like it’s nothing?’’ Jungkook’s voice raises as he scolds you about being so negligent about yourself, ‘‘You can’t do shit like that!’’ He fumed, making you let out a breathless chuckle. 

‘‘Could you stop treating me like a fucking child for once in your life? I’m perfectly fine, Jungkook. I’ve been doing pretty well for myself without you here, actually. I don’t know why you think you have a say on what I do, is it the entitlement you have of me that you still carry around because we grew up together? Because if that’s it then you can drop it, I let go of my little girl who wanted a friend and was treated like pure shit in return complex a long time ago.’’ 

He knows you’re right, but he thinks he’ll always have this odd sense of protection over the five year old girl who cried to his mom about not lending her his favorite toy. He’ll always want to apologize to the eight year old girl who declared her love for him with a Valentine’s Day card while he ended up breaking her heart in exchange. He’ll always wish to look for help within the twelve year old girl who witnessed him give out his first kiss to another girl who he didn’t even like. He’ll always feel guilty towards the sixteen year old girl who had gotten tipsy on a spiked fruit punch and crashed on his bed. He’ll always hate himself for not asking the seventeen going on eighteen year old girl to prom when he knew he could’ve, but chose not to in fear of ruining your friendship. 

You only wanted someone to be there for you growing up and Jungkook had never been the brave boy you thought he was, always running from his fears in hopes he’d have a wide advantage margin from them. Yet here they are, standing right in front of him in the form of a twenty year old you, and they’re there to let him know that you’ve never needed him, yet he’s always needed you.

He can’t even apologize, he only looks at you with wide eyes as he fidgets in his place. Either you’re both too old now to understand each other or you just realized that you’ve outgrown Jungkook. 

Your mouth set in a hard line as you crossed your arms, the night’s breeze feeling colder than usual. ‘‘I miss you Jungkook, but I can’t keep playing this cat and mouse game with you any longer.’’ 

You leave him behind to go back to Namjoon’s arms, seeking refuge in his sweet embrace as you try your hardest to put on practice what you learned all those years ago when Jungkook broke your heart for the first time, you should be used to it by now.

You’re twenty-one when you’re back in your hometown to attend the funeral of the old lady down the street, the one that always scolded you and Jungkook growing up. 

You had been scared of her as a child, but always following along your friend’s footsteps when he proposed playing around her garden. It tugs at your heartstrings even if you hadn’t known the woman well. Her death was imminent seeing as she’d been ill for quite some time. 

A taller figure stands next to you as you both stand way in the back of the ceremony. He looks tired and you figure that it’s because of the fact he arrived late into the night, you heard his car’s engine from your bedroom window. Dressing in all black, you notice he bought a new suit. You’re sure that the one he wore for prom no longer fits considering he’s bigger now. 

You haven’t talked to each other since last year when you both left off on a sour note. The hurt you felt was no longer present, though. You chewed on your bottom lip as you thought of a way you could talk to him again without making things awkward, but you let out a small gasp once he placed his arm around your shoulders, giving it a small squeeze as he sighed and kept his focus on the service. 

Watching the casket be lowered into the ground felt weird. She was a human being just like you, but her existence was a reminder of your childhood. Would it be okay to say that her death meant a part of you leaving with her too? 

Once it hits you, it’s Jungkook who consoles you by hugging you tight. Your eyes are too blurry with tears for you to realize this is one of those rare moments where he’s holding you close without hesitation. He lets you ruin his tuxedo’s jacket with your mascara covered tears as he brushes your hair as a sign of comfort. 

You know things are back in order when he proposes the idea to go back to the old lady’s porch, for old times sake. ‘‘Will we ever let her rest?’’ You ask him with a small laugh as Jungkook sits on the doorsteps of the old lady’s empty home, opening the bag of candy worms he bought at the grocery store. 

He shrugs, ‘‘She loved us, always told my mom how much she missed us running around the street.’’ The revelation makes you smile, hoping it was true. He pats the empty space next to him, indicating for you to fill it up with your presence. Once you do, you feel the familiar warmth of his proximity. 

Jungkook seems different and you only hope he’s changed for the best. 

‘‘When are you going back?’’ You ask him with curiosity, hoping that he’ll be in town for a few more days so you can catch up with him on a better note this time around. 

He munches on one of the snacks, ‘‘Tomorrow morning, I have training camp and can’t miss it.’’ His answer makes you sigh with disappointment, but you nod nonetheless. ‘‘What about you?’’ He asks in return, and you inform him that you’ll stay for a few more days to spend time with your family. There’s silence after that and Jungkook can only offer you the gummy worms in the bag, you take one with a small thanks.  

‘‘College fucking sucks,’’ he says out of nowhere and it makes you look at him in bewilderement, ‘‘I hate it there, I wanna drop out so bad. But I’m a year away from graduating so it’s too late now.’’ You see his shoulders visibly relax, like a weight had been lifted off them. ‘‘Plus my mom would kill me if I do so,’’ he adds with a chuckle. 

Last time you asked everything was fine. Had things changed or had they always been this way and he was just now being honest with you?

You rest your head on his shoulder and focus all of your undivided attention on him as he keeps rambling about what his life has been ever since he left this town. He’s had bad games, bad grades, and bad girls. But he’s also had incredible games, good grades, and a couple great hookups, and yet he still feels empty, it’s not enough. 

‘‘I miss you,’’ he mumbles as he faces you, ‘‘I’m sorry for being such a shitty friend, you deserved better.’’ His apology is genuine and you can feel it in the way his voice trembles, sincerity has always scared him after all. 

Jungkook’s never known when the time is right, and he misjudges the look on your face. When he leans down to press his lips against yours, he’s blinded for a mere moment into believing that you wanted to kiss him just as much as he had been waiting. 

You abruptly separate from him with wide eyes and parted lips, ‘‘Jungkook, I’m─I’m dating Namjoon now.’’ He can physically feel his heart shatter, the revelation coming out like an old newspaper headline he should’ve read a long time ago. 

He lets out a breathless chuckle, ‘‘He got over the commitment issues?’’ The rhetorical question is bitter. 

You scoff, ‘‘And what about it? I preferred to wait than to rush into getting my heart broken.’’ Plus it’s not like you were expecting Namjoon to grow feelings for you, the whole no strings attached arrangement was named that way for a reason. 

Jungkook looks at you with narrowed eyes and he shakes his head sightly. Old habits never die down, still so stubborn and challenging as ever. 

He’s startled as you stand abruptly, fuming as you look at him, ‘‘I don’t even know why you care! Did you forget that you threw my Valentine’s Day card into the trash? Or that you kissed Yeji in front of my face? Or that you let Taehyung date me as prank between your friends? Or that you were making out with Eunha while Jimin kept giving me alcohol? Or that you asked Jaehyun to take me to the stupid prom even though I was perfectly fine going without him or anyone for that matter?’’

‘‘We were just kids!’’ Jungkook argues back at you.

‘‘It still fucking hurt,’’ you counter, ‘‘still hurts, actually. You think that by giving me a measly apology and kissing it better I’ll suddenly forget about all of it?’’ Jungkook knows it won’t ever make up for all those years, but he had at least hoped you’d be willing to give him a chance. 

He wishes he could say something else. Explain that he had just tried to protect you in his own shitty way from everyone else or himself maybe, he doesn’t know anymore. He wants to speak up again, but there’s disappointment written all over your face, you’re not angry at him...just saddened. 

‘‘Hope you have fun at your training camp.’’

Jungkook watches as you leave him sitting by himself on the old lady’s doorstep. A hand runs through his hair as he feels his eyes water, and he can almost hear a whisper in the wind that asks him why he didn’t stop you when he could’ve. 

Jungkook didn’t think that his family coming together with yours for Christmas dinner would’ve been a great idea. You’re cold to him at first and it’s fitting for the winter weather, but as always it only takes for him to sit next to you for things to warm up again. 

It’s with the excuse that you’ll run over to your house to grab a new bottle of wine from the kitchen counter that Jungkook trails behind you, both slightly tipsy on the different alcohols your families had offered each other. 

Years have passed since he last stepped foot inside your home, you used to visit him more often than he did anyway. It still smells and looks the same; the only difference is that there’s new pictures of you hung up on the walls, updated accordingly to the changes you’ve made ever since you left off for college.

You’re sporting a big smile in all of them, which in exchange makes him copy the action as well. His lack of presence in your life has done you better than compared to when he was around, and if that’s the case, then at least he did something right. 

There hasn’t been much said since the beginning of the night, just a simple hey out of courtesy. There’s so much he wants to say, but with no clue where to begin. Another apology is due, though he thinks it’s a little too late for that. He also wants to ask about what you’ve been up to since he last saw you, are you still dating the Namjoon guy you had told him about after he kissed you? If he’s still there, Jungkook rather keep quiet and not wonder out loud to you, he’s sure that it’ll hurt if it’s true. 

Growing up Jungkook always mistook your bravery with stubbornness and your courage with relentlessness. You’ve always been challenging, but only because you wanted him to do so too. It’s moments like this that prove him that you’ve always been the stronger between the two.

‘‘So, we’re just gonna pretend like nothing’s wrong between us?’’ You ask, speaking directly to him for the first time that night. It makes him look at you like a deer stuck in headlights, surprised by the sudden question and out of all the years of knowing each other, he feels small under your gaze for once. ‘‘How much time is it going to pass until you want to finally talk things like adults?’’ 

Jungkook gulps the lump in his throat, his brain quickly thinking of the right thing to say, ‘‘I just wanted to protect you from─’’

‘‘From what? From you? Everytime you’ve done that I end up getting hurt in the end. I’m left to pick the pieces up by myself,’’ you interject with anger in your voice. ‘‘It fucking pisses me off that I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you kissing me, I haven’t stopped thinking about you and─’’ A sigh, you close your eyes to center yourself again as Jungkook waits for the final blow, ‘‘and you look like none of this has ever bothered you in the slightest because, you don’t really care about me do you?’’

‘‘I do care about you.’’ He’s sure about it, even though he’s been extremely bad at showing it. 

Even though your eyes are threatening to spill tears, you still muster up the last bit of what’s left of your courage to step closer to him until you’re a few inches away. ‘‘Prove it, then. Show me that you care.’’ 

His brain is sent into quick overdrive due to your close proximity. There’s a slight hesitation because he only hopes that what he’s about to do is what you’re demanding him to prove. He doesn’t care if you’re still dating the Namjoon guy because he’s settled with the idea that it’s okay if you don’t correspond, it’s not like he did the same to you when you were both younger. 

Once his lips press against yours, there’s no turning back. He’s waiting for you to push him back and let him know that your heart’s still taken, but you kiss him with such fervor that he knows in that moment that you’re right, it’s better to wait than to rush right in. 

It’s no fairytale kiss, though. There’s desperation in the way you chase his lips, as if you were to slow down he’d find a way to escape from you. You grip the cotton material of his crewneck into your small fists, holding on to the fabric like your life depended on it. The small kiss you had both shared last year was nothing compared to this, and Jungkook’s taken aback by your neediness. 

He doesn’t know how you manage to drag him to your childhood bedroom without missing a beat, only separating once you both realize you need to catch your breaths, and even then Jungkook can’t have a minute to take just happened in because your lips attach to his neck to get more of a taste. His fingers curled around your arm, sighing at the way your kisses felt like electricity on his skin. 

‘‘Y/N,’’ he calls your name out in a breathy tone, but you’re too immersed in your little bubble to even realize it. 

Jungkook groans when you bite into the skin of his neck, then blowing over the red mark as you kissed it better. It’s going to be bruise and he doesn’t like when that happens, but he’s not bothered at all if it comes from you. He forcibly grabs your chin so you can face him, looking at him with big eyes, a small pout, and with your chin messed with drool. 

It’s then that Jungkook kisses you hungrily, making you feel like you’re in a dream-like state,  though you could partially blame the Christmas eggnog for that. The way he bites at your lips and how your tongues clash together is an extreme juxtaposition as to how you could describe this moment. It’s as if you’re floating on air, clouds surrounding you in a heavenly embrace, angels singing in the background every time his hands touch, grab, hold and caress every part of your body. And yet, even with such a difference, it’s perfect because it’s Jungkook. You’ve been waiting for this too long, which is why your hands creep beneath his crewneck, touching his tonified abdomen tentatively and enjoying the way goosebumps arise on his skin at the sensation of your fingers trailing patterns wherever they caress.  

It’s only fair that he pays attention to yours as well. Jungkook’s lips trail from your mouth onto your jawline, planting wet kisses on each space until he begins sucking on the skin of your neck, making you moan in the process. He chooses then that his new favorite sound is the way you voice out the pleasure he gives you. ‘‘Hurry up,’’ you say, ridding the bottom of the crewneck higher over his stomach, making him shiver at the sudden change of temperature. 

Jungkook chuckles before completely getting rid of the material, ‘‘Calm down,’’ he sighs as he gives you a sweet smile, ‘‘You know our moms could talk forever.’’ 

You ogle his chest, admiring the way his training camps have obviously done wonders to his body. ‘‘It’s not them I’m talking about,’’ you correct him with a teasing smile that only makes his grin grow wider, chuckling at your impatience. Jungkook lets out a small gasp of surprise when your hands grasp at his shoulder blades, turning him around so you can back him until the back of his knees hit the edge of your bed. It’s funny how he lets himself be bossed around by someone who’s way smaller compared to his frame.

Jungkook finds leverage on his elbows splayed against the mattress, your knees resting on each side of his hips as you leaned into him and kissing him just as widely as you had done before. Jungkook could fill just how quick things were escalating, especially the way his crotch area was beginning to become a problem he couldn’t possibly control at the moment, not with your own being directly on top of it. In any other situation he would’ve apologized with an awkward laugh, but his breath hitches once your hips start grinding over him.  

His hands make their way on the inside of your knitted sweater, provoking goosebumps on the exposed skin. You let out a shaky laugh, halting your movements so you can quickly get rid of the fabric as Jungkook’s eyebrows lift in surprise at your haste and then at the sight of your bra covered breasts. His hands are still steadily placed on each side of your waist, only brought up because your own had redirected them over your breasts, hoping he gets the message on what you want him to do now.   

Jungkook hesitantly squeezed one of the round globes, provoking a small moan to come from out of your lips. He wishes to hold you as close as he possibly can because the idea of ever being away from you again has been his main fear as of lately. But he refrains, you look so delicate and he feels like you could easily break. He stares at your body lovingly and your cheeks heat up at the way his eyes ogle your chest like a kid in a candy story. You give his arm a light slap and he chuckles, leaning over you to place a passionate kiss on your lips.

“You’re beautiful,” he says frankly. It doesn’t help to dissipate the flush on your face, but the compliment doesn’t bother you in the slightest. Jungkook leans in to trail kisses past your collarbones and into the swell of your breasts, making you bite your lip with anticipation. He looks at you asking for permission and you nod quickly with parted lips as you start to become impatient for him to make his next move. Jungkook lowers the cups of your breasts, freeing your hardened nipples and immediately envelopes one of them with his lips. “Mph—!” A sigh escapes your lips as you try to memorize the way his tongue traces over your tit. He pays attention to your other one, fingers rolling over the bud and pinching ever so often. 

You can feel your panties damp by then, trespassing into the fabric of the black leggings you’re wearing over them. Reaching behind your back, you fumble in unclasping the hooks of the now uncomfortable bra. Jungkook’s forced to stop the undivided attention he had places on your breasts to look at you like he’s lost, why are you going so fast? 

Once your hands delve with the buckle of his belt, he has to hold on to your wrists with a firm grasp, ‘‘What are you doing?’’ He asks with quick breath, you blink stoically towards him. 

‘‘Uh─getting you naked?’’ You answer with a nonchalant tone, but his hands don’t let go and your demeanor changes, ‘‘D-Did you not want this?’’ Your voice turns smaller, embarrassed that maybe you had pressured him into something he didn’t want to participate in. 

Jungkook quickly shakes his head no, ‘‘No, I-I do want this! It’s just─you’re going so fast,’’ he tries to explain, ‘‘I’ve been waiting for this for too long, I don’t wanna rush.’’ Your eyes lit up at the revelation as he waits for you to answer back, only for his back to hit the comforter with a small thud, giggling at the way you urgently kiss him again, but this time with much more care. 

‘‘Why didn’t you say so before, stupid?’’ You mumble with a sheepish look, ‘‘I thought it was just going to be─nevermind, I need you right now.’’ You have to force yourself from spitting out any details that could possibly ruin the moment between you two, deciding to wait instead for any emotional confessions you want to make. 

He switches positions between the two, panting as he brings you down to the mattress and Jungkook can feel the goosebumps on your skin, whether from the coldness of the room or because of the sheer electricity of his hands caressing your body like it was molded just right for him. He dips his hand lower, cupping your clothed heat on his hand. It makes you tremble and you whine, encouraging him to keep going. 

“Baby, you’re really wet,” he comments with a teasing tone and you pout at him. His fingers hook into the waistband of your leggings and he pulls them down as he travels with them, greeted by the sight of the damp cloth of your panties. He exhales with content, caressing your thighs in an up and down motion. You twist underneath him and he has to hold your hips down to calm you down, “Patience is a virtue.” 

“I’ve been too patient, do some—Ah!” Your whining is interrupted once Jungkook moves your underwear to the side holding it with his free hand, fingers coming to trace the slick covering your pussy lips. He becomes entranced with the transparent gooey liquid, bringing them close to his face as he separates his fingers and sees a strand connecting between them. “Guk-ah, p-please…” Your needy voice brings him back to reality, delving his fingers back into your exposed heat but this time with intent. 

Jungkook’s thumb lifts the hood covering your clit, mouth coming down to give it a small tentative kiss. That action alone has you writhing above him, it makes him chuckle to himself as he dives back in. The moans you let out are loud and clear inside your bedroom, thankful that it’s only you and him inside your house. Your hand pulls at his hair, making him groan against you and the vibrations are felt throughout your body, only adding to the euphoric pleasure you already possess. His fingers trace the inside of your thighs until they reach your entrance, circling the fluttering hole which makes you pull at his hair harder and with your other you hold on to the bedsheets of the comforter tightly into your fist. 

Jungkook’s tongue is still working your engorged bud, but he focuses his eyes on you as he dips the first finger inside you. “Oh—fuck,” you let out in a breathy moan. He tries to maintain a rhythm between his two ministrations, but it’s hard when he wants to focus on all of them at once. “‘Nother, please,” you begged once he let your clit rest, quickly following your request by adding another into your warm heat. He lets out a breathless chuckle as he notices how easy it is to thrust both fingers inside of you, your whole crotch area is covered in slick and his wet chin is a dead giveaway to where he was seconds ago. 

He watches you unravel over him with such adoration, not even his wettest dreams or dirtiest fantasies could prepare him for this. Seven minutes in heaven he plans to stay in forever. “Guk-ah, I wan’ you. I-Inside, please.” You plead with teary eyes, and he slowly stops, removing his arousal covered fingers from inside you as he makes you sigh in the process. He kisses you again and again, your hazy brain is probably hallucinating all of this right now, but damn is it good. You tug at the crewneck he’s wearing, he’s too overdressed for this occasion. He tends to your demands, quickly getting rid of all the layers of clothing that stop him from being inside of you fully. 

“I don’t have a—“ 

“I’m on the pill.”

You both speak at the same time, making each other chuckle. Jungkook gulps at the idea of taking you raw as the first time together, and you salivate at his hardened length; the head already oozing precum out and you want nothing more than to wrap your lips around it and lick the tip up. You’re just about to when Jungkook quickly grabs your wrist to stop you from reaching him, you look up at him with the big sparkly eyes he has loved for too long. 

“I just—I wanna be inside you right now,” he sheepishly admits, and you smile with a nod; sharing the sentiment. You back up until your head rests on the pillows comfortably, relaxing into the mattress as you wait for Jungkook to ready himself. He places a kiss on your lips before placing a hand next to your head, using it as leverage above you. His free hand takes his cock and rubs the tip along your folds, making you squirm with anticipation. Jungkook chuckles, “Are you ready?” He asks with a sweet smile. 

“I’ve always been,” you whisper, your hand tucking a strand of his long hair behind his ear. 

A caress to his cheek as he nods, slowly pushing the head of his dick into you. You bite into your lip hard, it’s been a while since you had sex with someone and Jungkook’s size and girth was different from the rest. Your walls are tight around him and he has a tough time trying to reach the hilt with you squeezing him so hard, “Baby, relax for me.” He pleads and you nod apologetically, breathing in deep as you feel him reach parts inside of you, you didn’t know existed. Once he’s all the way in, he waits for you to give him the go ahead while he presses kisses into your heated cheek. You wrap your legs around his waist and give him a nod, letting him know he was allowed to start thrusting.

Jungkook manages to hit all the right places, keeping a steady pace as he enters and exits you each time. You’re left to moan and writhe underneath him, letting him take you as he pleases. Your kisses become messy, teeth biting into each other’s lips, teeth grazing against each other as you both tried to fight for the dominant position. It’s that heavy makeout that incites you to push at his shoulders, making him turn in his back, exiting you in the process. Jungkook pants, chest rising and falling with quickness as you straddle his lap, arms connecting behind his neck. 

“You always want to win, right?” He chuckles with half lidded eyes, enjoying the way your pussy lips grinded over his twitching length. You bat your eyelashes at him, offering him an innocent smile. The same technique that used to get you everything you wanted when you were younger. Same determination as you seek for what’s yours. He’s under you after all, still a victim to your charms.

Jungkook takes the bulbous head of his cock and teases it in your clit, if you weren’t holding on to him tight you would’ve collapsed into his chest. And by the way you moan his name out, he knows you’ll always look for him no matter the weather. “What a pretty girl,” he coos into your hair and you pinch his nipple in retaliation which only makes him groan in return. “My pretty girl.” He states before sinking himself deep into you again, sighing at the feeling of your hips circling over him. His rough hands guide them as you bounce up and down his length, moaning every time you rose and hissing when you came back down. 

He makes sure to keep this image engraved on his head forever. Your breasts bouncing over his face, your thighs working extra hard to keep up with his thrusts, and the way your sounds bounced off the walls of your bedroom. 

“You’re doing s-so good, baby.” Jungkook praises you, kneading your ass cheek. “Taking my cock s-so well,” he falls into a trance of admiring the way his length would appear and disappear inside of you, covered in a thick layer of your arousal. It makes him drill into you faster, sitting properly against the bed’s headboard as he takes your hips with force. He’s too turned on to keep treating you so delicately, and the way you moan and pant at the increase in speed only lets him know you enjoy him like this way more. “I-Is it good, baby? Am I-I fucking you well?” He asks in between rapid thrusts, your thighs had given out by then. 

You nod and a whimper escapes your lips, “Y-yes, Guk-Ah. S-so good, feels amazing.” Your praise is honest, the fucked out tone in your voice is a clear indicator of how well of a job he was doing. A minute longer and you’ll be right on cloud nine, never wanting to come back down. “Wanna cum Guk-Ah, plea—“ There’s no need for you to even finish your sentence because his thumb rubs your clit in figure eights, making you groan with the intensified feeling of his hips circling inside you deliciously. You can almost see the blinding white light ahead as Jungkook kisses you feverishly. You feel tears escape the corners of your high, the familiar feeling tickling inside you as Jungkook’s thrusts don’t let up. ‘‘Ah! Yes, yes, fuck,’’ you cry out once your orgasm hits. Jungkook holds you close to his chest, trying to soothe your shaking body with his arms. Your walls squeeze and relax continuously around him, it serves him as the impulse he needs to chase his own high. 

‘‘I love you, Jungkook,’’ you confess in between panting breaths, ‘‘so much.’’ 

His release shoots out and he groans, digging crescent moons into your hips. You hiss at the sensation, but giggle at how his eyes are screwed shut and brows still furrowed together, as if he was holding on to the last of his orgasm. In reality, Jungkook is just hoping that once he opens his eyes you’ll still be in his arms. Your fingers tilting his head to face you are very much real, he sees spots once he opens his eyes as they adjust to the room’s lighting. 

‘‘I love you too.’’ He says with a fixed gaze and you coo at how perfect this is.

You’re twenty-two when Jungkook’s finally yours.

You’re both twenty-three and it’s another weekend spent at his apartment, he’s been playing for three hours now and you’ve given up on having him pay attention to you. Deciding to switch your plan around and join him instead, if only he would let you play.

‘‘Jungkook, you said it was going to be my turn five rounds ago!’’ You complain with a pout, crossing your arms across your chest. 

His gaze is still stuck on the T.V screen, ‘‘Baby, shhh, you’re gonna make me lose.’’ He mumbles as he tries to remain concentrated on the game in hand, but he can hear your humph’s from behind him, ‘‘Patience is a─’’

‘‘Virtue, yeah, who cares.’’ You interrupt him with a roll of your eyes, familiar with the saying a little too well. ‘‘Hope you remember that for later tonight,’’ you add in a mumble, but he doesn’t hear it because of the loud sounds coming from the game on the screen. 

‘‘What did you say, babe?’’ He asks with a raised brow, hitting the buttons of the controller with expert ease. 

‘‘I’ll call your mom and tell her you don’t wanna share.’’ You joke with a threatening voice, but Jungkook knows better than to take your words so lightly. He pauses the game and turns to look at you with an are you serious? expression on his face, you giggle as you’ve finally got what you wanted. 

He apologizes by covering your face with kisses, pleading for you not to tell on him with his mom. You promise not to do so this time, knowing that the woman was probably tired of having to scold his son at his big age. 

Plus, ever since Jungkook surprised you with the almost exact replica of the Valentine’s Day card you gave him all those year back, you’ve taken advantage to tease him even more knowing he’s at your beck and call. You always remind him that he came close because the stickers he used were not like the ones you had, but he remembered to add the hearts on the I’s so that’s good enough. 

‘‘Alright you can play, but━!’’ He says after he finishes his attack of kisses, ‘‘I’ll be your guide, I can’t risk you messing my record up, no offense baby.’’ None taken as you nod excitedly, you’ll always take whatever chance he gives you. 

Jungkook’s finally learned how to share his toys after all.

[yikesharringrove]

It’s a book Steve’s actually read.

Well, Nancy kinda mostly read it to him. Which really just makes the whole thing hurt a little bit more.

His speakers were crackling and he had turned the bass up high enough that the song was distorted, vibrating through his car.

It was embarrassing. Scream-singing to Kate Bush while sobbing into your steering wheel in the high school parking lot.

He’s just got a lot of feelings, and Nancy dumped in that alleyway, he can literally see it and Heathcliff, it’s me, I’m Cathy. I’ve come home, I’m so cold.

Which, it’s all just bullshit. Pardon the word.

Because, Catherine and Heathcliff don’t even fucking end up together. There’s something about family difference and he remembers Nancy saying socioeconomic like that word meant anything to him and Catherine winds up dead of bad brain-itis and Healthcliff is a dick so they never should’ve been together anyway.

But, whatever.

He’s feeling very much like Catherine right now. Standing on the moors with a broken heart.

Because fuck Heathcliff. And fuck Nancy.

Kate Bush is the only one he can trust anymore. 

Her and her red dress and Steve’s insides feel like that red fucking dress in a way he can’t explain and Heathcliff, it's me, I'm Cathy. I've come home, I'm so cold. Let me in your window-

He just about jumped out of his skin when the passenger door opened.

One too-tan hand reached out to crank the volume down on the song, and a too-pink tongue slid across too-white teeth and

“Harrington, I’m obligated to tell you that you’re acting like a pussy.”

Hargrove.

Y’know, he’s the top of Steve’s Fuck List. Right there with Nancy and Heathcliff, and everyone else who sucks shit and makes people feel bad.

“Can it, dickhead.”

To be fair, Steve was ugly crying to Kate Bush by himself in his car, but he’s allowed to be a pussy by himself in his car.

Hargrove just gave Steve a look that Steve’s pretty sure meant I’m resisting the urge to punch you in the face right now, but was undercut by that stupid fucking tongue of his lolling around like some kinda hyper-sexual golden retriever.

Meanwhile, Kate Bush was still singing and Steve was still Cathy on the moors.

“I’m fucking sad, or whatever. Let me be a pussy.”

“Oh, come on, Harrington. You really this cut up about some prissy little princess? She’s not even the best this town has and that is saying something.”

“Y’know, for a guy that’s constantly calling all the girls in town ugly, you sure do fuck a lot of ‘em.”

“At least I’m getting some. When was the last time the princess put out, eh? Or was she savin’ it for marriage? I could see her bein’ one of those types.”

He said those types like he wasn’t wearing a saint’s pendant around his neck. Like Steve didn’t see his family all sitting uncomfortably silent together in the diner after mass every single Sunday afternoon.

It was weird, seeing Billy in a nice shirt. All buttoned up properly with his hair looking all respectful. Especially since Steve was usually high off his ass and slurping down a strawberry milkshake with cheese fries like he’d die if he didn’t.

“I’m not gonna talk about my sex life with you, Hargrove.”

“Aw, why not, Harrington. Don’t wanna compare body counts? You embarrassed or something?” Billy was grinning that shitty sharp grin of his, still waggling his fucking tongue as he leaned closer to Steve. “You still a virgin, King Steve?”

The song ended. Steve rewound the tape. It started up again.

He needed Kate now more than ever.

“Of fucking course I’m not. I’m just not some gross asshole that goes around telling everyone who’ve I’ve fucked. It’s called being a decent guy.”

“It’s called being a prude. Now, c’mon. Tell me who’ve you fucked. Maybe we’re tunnel buddies.”

Steve wanted to throw up. Kate was on the moors again.

“You’re disgusting. Tunnel buddies. How gross can you even get?”

“I hope that’s a rhetorical question.”

“I don’t know what that means and you’re a shithead.”

Hargrove tossed his head back and laughed, showing off those teeth that looked like they could take a chunk out of Steve’s flesh if Billy got close enough to try.

You had a temper like my jealousy. Too hot, too greedy.

“Seriously, though.” Billy had stopped laughing. “What is this shit?”

“She’s Kate Bush and she speaks to my heart.”

Billy just stared at him.

Yeah, that was a pretty pussy thing to say.

“I just got fucking dumped, dude. Let me be sad about it,” Steve backpedaled.

And then Billy did something very unexpected.

Well, he did something very normal for his character, and then he did something unexpected.

He lit up a cigarette.

And then passed it to Steve.

Steve filled up his lungs with a thick drag of smoke. He held it for as long as he could.

Which was really long.

Swimmer’s lungs. And that.

He blew out the smoke. Heathcliff, it's me, I'm Cathy. I've come home, I'm so cold. Let me in your window.

“Is this fucking song based on Wuthering Heights?”

“Yeah, you dumb dumb. It’s fucking called Wuthering Heights.”

“Okay, dumb dumb, I clearly don’t even know this song.”

“Maybe you’d be less of an ass if you did. Dumb dumb.”

Billy lit a cigarette for himself, letting the smoke trail out of his mouth like he was some kind of dragon.

Billy probably fancies himself a dragon. Thinks he’s this big scary creature that just goes around breathing fire and ransacking villages for their gold.

Ooh, it gets dark, it gets lonely on the other side from you. I pine a lot, I find the lot falls through without you.

Really, he’s probably like a dog of some kind.

Domesticated.

“You’re staring at me.”

Yeah. Steve was staring at him. Watching him smoke while Kate Bush played loudly. The speakers still sounded like shit even though Billy had turned down the song considerably.

Steve didn’t know when he had stopped crying.

Probably right when Billy had let himself into his cave of self pity, but his face was still wet.

He wiped it off, not pointing out that Billy had been staring at him too.

“Why are you here so late? Practice ended like, an hour ago.”

Billy shrugged lamely. He kinda looked like a little kid.

Heathcliff, it's me, I'm Cathy. I've come home, I'm so cold. Let me in your window. 

“Bored. Didn’t feel like being home.”

“So you came to sit in the break-up mobile with me. How nice.”

“Mostly I just wanted to make fun of you for listening to this garbage. I could hear it across the lot.”

And sure enough, Billy’s car was parked a good ways down from Steve, about as far away as their two cars could be from one another.

Steve doubts Billy heard Kate all this way, but what’s he gonna do, bring that up?

No. He’s rather sit in this weird silence that settled between them, feeling awkward about himself and his body and listen to Kate.

I'm coming home to wuthering, wuthering, Wuthering Heights

“She’s not worht it, y’know.”

Steve had to do a double take to make sure it was still Billy sitting in his passenger seat, and not some cheap imposter wearing a Billy-suit and saying almost nice things to Steve in a not-mean voice.

“What’d you say earlier? Plenty of bitches in the sea?” Steve would’ve laughed at that comment when Billy made it if they weren’t naked together.

There’s something things you don’t do while naked with another guy, and laughing just isn’t one of them.

Plus, he had been a little too focused on figuring out why Billy’s nudity had given him that same hot feeling that nearly seeing Rob Lowe’s dick in The Outsiders movie gave him last year.

“I mean, it’s true. Don’t sweat this break-up. She seemed like an uptight bitch anyway.”

“Hey.”

Steve was still a little too sore, a little too fresh from the split to trash talk Nance like that.

“Whatever. Get high. Look at some porn. You’ll be fine.”

Ooh, let me have it. Let me grab your soul away.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

Silence again.

Kate was back to the chorus.

The song was almost over.

“You could always go on the rebound. get her out of your mind with someone that’ll actually put out.”

Hargrove had barely even said it before he was yanking Steve forward, giving him no time to prepare as their mouthed smooshed together in something that was very very awkward, and very very sloppy.

Steve still had tears on his cheeks, and his cigarette was getting dangerously close to the filter, threatening to burn his fingers, and Kate was still singing, and Billy was kissing him, and dear God Steve’s at least a little bit gay.

Heathcliff, it's me, I'm Cathy. I've come home, I'm so cold. Let me in your window. 

They drifted apart from one another just in time for Steve to rewind the song again.

“So, uh, yeah,” Billy said, and his cheeks were this wonderful shade of red, and Steve couldn’t stop thinking about Kate’s red dress and that fucking kiss and he was on the moors again, but this time he and Billy were making out in the grass and oh fuck, oh fuck-

“Yeah. Good.”

“Good?” Billy raised on of those dark eyebrows at him, his cheeks still burning.

“Good. Very good.”

Billy nodded a few times, sucking on his cigarette. Steve suddenly remembered he had dropped his on the floormates and tried to stamp it out before it got singed to bad.

“Okay then. Good.” Billy opened the passenger door, stepping out and flicking away his cigarette. He seemed to think for a moment, before turning around, leaning his upper body into Steve’s car.

Steve thought they were going to kiss again.

He was ready to go for it, ready to let his eyes close and maybe let it lead to more. He was Cathy and he was ready for some action.

But Billy just grinned again.

And skipped the song.

[pascalpanic]

Just One Mission (Agent Jack “Whiskey” Daniels x Champagne’s Daughter!Reader)

Inspo: I Like It, I Love It by Tim McGraw

Summary: Your father, Champ, runs Statesman, and you’re his best- and only- female agent. Your normal partner, Tequila, is out, leaving you with another agent. Normally this would be fine, but it’s with Whiskey, who practically ignores you, despite the fact that you’re crushing hard on him. You’re sent to the county fair to track an undercover bad guy under the guise of being a couple for your latest mission, and it starts to feel more and more like something is happening, not just between your fictional couple.

WC: 5.1k

Warnings: language, obvious mentions of alcohol (this is Statesman after all)

A/N: Can I get a yeehaw for our favorite cowboy? Biggest of thank yous to @remmysbounty for helping me name this!

“You can’t be serious. Why can’t anything ever be straightforward around here? Why do I always have to go play make-believe?” You asked, pushing your glasses back up your nose to clarify his hologram. You move from where you stand, against the window showing the New York skyline, to walk towards the meeting table.

Champ gives a chuckle, as if he knows everything. Of course he does. He’s your boss and he never fails to make that known. “You came into this job knowing you’d be doing undercover work, Amaretto,” Champ says with a pointed look. You bite down on your lip to avoid cussing and look down to avoid his eyes. “Plus, you’re our best. And our only lady.”

“Whose fault is that?” you grumble, crossing your arms. Normally it doesn’t bother you much, but today you wished more women worked in the field. “Why can’t I go with Tequila? Him and I work well together, you know that,” you ask, hating your voice and your tone. You sound like a whiny teen complaining to her dad. Honestly, it was close enough, and maybe even worse: you were a fully grown woman complaining to her dad.

Your father, Champ, sighs and removes his hat. “For God’s sake, ‘Retto. Tequila’s mission has been extended. I’m sorry to tell you that Agent Whiskey will be your partner for just one mission, for one night.”

“Dad, I-”

“That’s Champ when you’re in here, Amaretto,” he chides, which makes you groan and plop down on an office chair, kicking your legs up onto the table and crossing them. “It’s a small mission. You can handle it. Whiskey’ll treat you right.”

As much as you didn’t want to admit it, you knew you could handle it. You would be more than fine pretending to be Whiskey’s sweetheart for the evening. It was what came after that you didn’t want. You had known Jack for a while now, and had been hiding a crush ever since the man first entered your life. 

You had been a Statesman ever since your father revealed to you that he wasn’t just the head of the Kentucky distillery- he was the head of a spy organization under the same name. Your career here hadn’t been long, but you were already proving that the skills must run in the family. You were the first female field agent, had a perfect mission record, and no unnecessary kills or injuries. That impressed Jack as much as the rest of the facility, maybe even more. You were a stunning and sharp woman with brains to match. 

As much as Whiskey wanted to flirt with you, to tell you just what he thought of you, he held back. Your father held his job by a string. In order to hold back everything he thought, he kept a distance. You were the only woman in the company Whiskey didn’t flirt with. “He hates me,” you say sharply to your father, telling him what you really thought Whiskey’s opinion of you was. He complimented every woman around him, but he actively avoided you. When you had talked in the past, it was brief and he had always found an excuse to leave. How else could you take that?

“Prob’ly just jitters around the boss’s girl,” your father drawls, and you want to scream and shout and throw a temper tantrum. “Besides, you both have roles. Neither of you have to be yourself.”

Stopping you before you can launch into a rant, a knock comes at the meeting room door. You look and- speak of the devil- Whiskey peeks his head in, finding you alone in the meeting room. “Sorry. Heard ya talking, you in a meeting?”

Your father laughs as he hears the man’s voice. “Tell him to put on the glasses,” he tells you, only audible through your earpiece. You relay the message to him and once Jack’s glasses are on, he straightens a little, addressing your father. “Good to see you, Whiskey. Just telling Amaretto about the mission,” Champ tells him, and you roll your eyes.

“Right, that mission. Next week?” He asks, clarifying, eyes darting to you briefly before finding your father again.

“You got it.” A knock comes at the meeting room in Kentucky, and your father turns for a moment, then back to the two of you. “Ginger’s callin’. Talk to you later, darlin’, and you too, Whiskey.” He takes off his glasses and the image of him disappears. 

You remove your legs from the table, swiveling your chair and removing your glasses. “How exciting, huh?” You ask dryly, eyes finding Whiskey’s. “The hottest week of the summer and he’s sending us to Alabama to spend a night outside.”

Jack chuckles a little, your sarcasm penetrating through the shield he has up specifically to deflect you. “At the county fair, no less. Couldn’t these idiots set up shop in a refrigerated warehouse?” He sighs, adjusting his hat. 

Tearing your eyes from him, you look out of the impressive window instead. “Sure to be a fun time,” you shake your head. He looks so handsome, and it makes you want to punch something. “Why my father loves to put me in these situations, I’ll never know. He’d never do this to Julep,” you lament. “I must be the expendable kid.”

“Julep is 17,” Whiskey reminds you, raising a brow. “You’re the only one of age, and you’re probably the only competent one too. He showed me a video of Rosé at the gun range and good Lord, how the hell did a man like that birth something so clumsy?”

“Why do you know so much about my sisters?” You ask him, tilting your head. 

“Your father never shuts up about ‘em. He shows them off constantly,” he shrugs. “Shows us videos, pictures. Even knew plenty about you before you came.” You raise an eyebrow at that, and he shakes his head quickly. “Barely anything personal. Hell, I don’t know your real name. He’s never called you or your sisters anything but your nicknames.”

You stand, gathering the folder you brought into the room with you. “Well, that’s a comfort. I’m not Champ’s daughter, I’m Agent Amaretto, and that’s the way I’d like to keep it,” you say, your voice slipping away from sharp and into flirtation. Whiskey’s deadpan slips into a smile and you press the folder into his chest as you walk past him, and out of the room. The smile grows wider as he turns to follow you.

-

Whiskey was right. It’s the hottest week of the summer, the August heat making you feel sticky and swollen, and you’re in Alabama. Disgusting. You look in the mirror and groan as you look at yourself. You were told that you and Jack need to blend into the atmosphere of the county fair, and you sighed. 

The past week, the two of you had prepped for your mission, slowly melting the thick layer of ice that subdued both your crush and his flirtation. He had slowly slipped into his regular self around you, which you didn’t notice. You didn’t know the real him. You had become more of yourself too; less sharp, more smiles, even a few laughs at his terrible southern euphemisms and adages. He finally called you darlin’ and sugar and sweet thing, and you felt your face warm more than it should. You let your walls down by the time you got on the plane, joking around with him and making actual conversation. During the flight, the two of you had enjoyed picking cover names, deciding on Beau and Jolene Pruitt, a newly married couple. Both were native Alabamians with thick drawls, not that it would be out of character for Jack.

Getting to wear casual clothing around that man excited you far more than it should, and you had spent a stupid amount of time picking out something that would fit in but also look nice. The wardrobe women had packed you plenty of options to mix and match from, and you settled on something that seemed to be a mix between your cover and yourself. You wore short denim cutoffs, ripped and distressed, with cowboy boots to match. You also wore a white tank top and a red, white, and blue flannel, either to be worn open or tied around your waist. A large gold cross pendant rested on your cleavage, as many women around here similarly had. It was imperative that neither you nor Whiskey could be recognized, and you had been given a wig of thick hair the opposite of your natural color, plaited into two French braids that were long and ended around your waist. No mission was complete without your gold, wire-rimmed Statesman glasses. 

You have to admit, you enjoy this look, minus the gaudy jewelry. You get to show off a little bit more than you normally would, and you secretly hope Whiskey may up his flirtation with you. You’re recognizable to someone who would know you, but the change of hair color and the glasses are a solid cover-up. You snap a picture in the mirror, sending it off to the ladies in the wardrobe department.  you ladies spoil me- I love getting to look cute for a change!

The women reply a moment later with a picture of all of them. You’re always cute, sugar! Show that man what he’s missing!

So, maybe you had confided to the wardrobe ladies that you found Jack attractive. Who didn’t? They agreed, but all showered you with attention and insisted you should make a move on this mission. You had said no, but they had hounded you over and over until you told them yes. It was a lie, but they didn’t need to know that.

A knock comes at your hotel door, and you smile before you can stop yourself. You force yourself to drop it, tossing one of the braided tails over your shoulder, and open the door. “Well there, Beau,” you drawl as you see Whiskey, but you stop and laugh a little as you scan his body. 

His reaction is the exact same, after a brief scan of your outfit. You both break into laughter. Jack is wearing cowboy boots, jeans, a white t-shirt, and a flannel with a different pattern but the same colors- red, white, and blue. “Stealing my thunder with the outfit, I see. Are you going to put your costume on or what?” You ask teasingly, and he shakes his head. 

“Believe it or not, Jolene, this is my costume. Seems the only different thing about being Beau is my name.” He grins wide at you, adjusting his similarly gold-rimmed aviators that rest beneath his classic Stetson. 

You shake your head but smile. “Why am I not surprised?” You tease, turning and grabbing your phone and the large bulletproof purse you’d be carrying tonight. “The ladies in the wardrobe department are going to love this,” you chuckle, and then freeze for a second. 

They did this on purpose. 

Whiskey has the same thought as you. He had confided in the ladies in the wardrobe department that he found you absolutely stunning but unattainable, due to the fact that your father was the control of his… everything. They had chattered excitedly, telling him that he should make his move on the mission too. He had done the exact same as you- said yes, but as an appeasement. “Well, they sure are. We’ll have to get someone to take a picture of us while we’re there.”

You nod, your heart skipping a beat at the fact that he wants a photo of this. It’s just for the mission, of course, you tell yourself and brush it off. “Oh, and that’ll be perfect cover. Of course these two would want a photo taken of them. We can do it right in front of the marks- better yet, we can ask them to take the picture,” you chuckle happily and sling the heavy purse over your body. 

“Or we can take a picture now,” he chuckles, nodding to the mirror you just took a picture in a moment ago.

“Sure,” you nod and lead him over to it. “Uh… smile?” You laugh and hold out your flannel for the photo. Jack makes finger guns and gives the camera a seductive face in the mirror, making you laugh. “Jesus, I thought you were the smooth agent.”

“Smoother than you. You’re smooth like a gravel road in a dry spell, look at that pose,” he says and zooms in on the picture. “Pose like you have some confidence in that pretty little head, honey,” he teases. “Copy me.” He makes the same pose, and you mimic it, taking a picture before bursting out laughing. “Much better,” he nods as he looks at the image. “Better send me that,” he nudges your side before walking to the door. “Well, Jo, let’s get this show on the road.” Smiling at the picture, you send the image to the wardrobe ladies. very subtle, Charlotte! You fire off before pocketing your phone and following him along. “Aw, Jo and Beau,” you coo, your personas snapping into place as soon as you leave the hotel room, clutching his arm. 

The two of you meander down through the hotel, finding your way to the parking lot. You break away from him to sit in the Bronco (of course he brought it) but you find yourself missing the contact of your arms intertwined. It’s probably for the best though, you think to yourself. If you have to keep touching him all night, it’s quite possible the Alabama heat may melt whatever’s left of the iceberg you’ve built to hold back your crush on him. 

-

A man bumps into you, and Whiskey is at your defense before you can defend yourself. “Watch it, cowboy,” Jack fires back, his hand resting on the small of your back. You smile up at him, practically making heart eyes. It looks in character, and you’re glad for that, but it’s entirely you. 

“My hero,” you giggle and place your hand on his chest. 

“Just for you, sugar,” he says sweetly and you beam up at him. He looks around, as you do, but the two of you rest there. It’s hot, unbearably, but yet you enjoy the contact your body makes with his. Both of you wear your flannels around your waist, allowing your grip on his arm to hold his strong muscles directly. It’s definitely enjoyable. “You hungry, honey?” He asks. 

You have to admit, you haven’t eaten much today, mainly out of nerves for the mission. But everything is going just swimmingly: you have eyes on the target, have a plan to infiltrate them later, and are now just biding time to seem normal. “I… yeah, I am,” you nod and look up at him. “How ‘bout some cotton candy?”

“Now, darlin’, if you’re hungry, that ain’t gonna do the trick,” he says and raises an eyebrow, removing his aviators and hooking them on his collar. “This is the county fair, for cryin’ out loud. Let’s get you something deep fried.” You nod in agreement and the two of you wander over to a stand selling various deep-fried atrocities. You smile and chuckle, letting him order for the two of you. The vendor hands you each a ridiculously large corn dog, and you laugh. 

The smell of the food makes your stomach growl. “Oh god, I didn’t realize just how hungry I was,” you moan as you bite into the food, your thick accent dropping. “Good choice, babe,” you tell him, smiling at how easily it comes. 

“I know you, sugar,” he teases, leading you to a picnic table where he sits across from you, munching on his own. No one else is around here, allowing you to speak freely. “Really, I do. I found out your real name the other day,” he says with a smile, and you nearly choke on the breading, halfway down your throat. He finally says your name aloud, drawing it out, making it sound like it’s coated in honey and dripping with flirtation.

You look down at your food, biting your lip. “Who told you that?” you ask, still staring down.

Jack chuckles at that, ignoring the question. “Beautiful name for a beautiful lady,” he teases, and you chuckle, shaking your head. The flirtation is much better than the stone-cold silence before a week ago, but it doesn’t do anything for the growing crush you have on the man. “Champ must’ve known you’d be a stunner.”

“Have you heard of nominative determinism?” you ask as you look up, tilting your head and twirling one of the long braids of your wig around your finger. The words sound funny with the thick accent you’re putting on. Whiskey shakes his head. “It’s this theory that your name shapes who you become. So, if you said that my name was chosen for beauty, I would grow to become my name, so I’d be beautiful.” He nods a little at that. “Do you believe in that kind of thing?” you ask him genuinely, tilting your head and taking another bite of the corn dog. 

“Clearly,” he chuckles through a mouthful of food before swallowing it. “Your name is pretty, you’re pretty. Someone has a name with a bad reputation, they become it.”

“Your mama named you Jack Daniels, you become Agent Whiskey,” you tease with a growing smile, accentuating that drawl that you’ve perfectly picked up from your father and the mustached man in front of you. “I’ve thought about that a lot with you. Did they assign you that name because of your name? My dad never talked about work with us before I became an agent.”

Whiskey shakes his head at you but does give a laugh. “Prob’ly, just thought it’d be funny, I ‘spose. They needed a new Agent Whiskey anyway, I believe. Last one died or retired, they never told me. Filling the vacancy while making a pun out of it. Your father has a sense of humor, doesn’t he? ‘S sure great at givin’ nicknames.”

You shake your head at that. “Don’t I know it. He’s been calling me Amaretto since I could give him sass back. Told me I was a little bitter, just like the word means in Italian. Julep’s too sweet, Rosé is a mix of gentle and bold. No one calls us by our real names unless we’re in trouble,” you chuckle. “You should hear my mama shout when Julep gets in trouble. She nearly shakes the house, and Julep likes to avoid it by pretending she can’t hear her. She’ll hide in her room, and my mama just shouts and shouts until the neighbors come over to make sure the family’s all still alive. It’s in a loving way, of course, nothing bad.” You shake your head, clearing the topic from yourself. “But it’s like your mama knew you’d get into something with alcohol. That’s odd.”

Jack chuckles and takes the last bite of his food. He doesn’t respond, just cleans up his little area and waits for you to be done, watching you with his chin resting in his palm. You smile as you notice that, looking away, and he does too. The two of you stand and walk along again. He offers his hand, to hold it, and you take it. You’re not entirely sure that he did that as Beau, and you’re certain you didn’t take his hand as Jolene.

Walking through the midway, you catch your mark out of the corner of your eye. “Go time,” you murmur to the man, dropping his hand. “Sir,” you ask and pat the man’s shoulder as he walks past. He stops and you shoot him a cheesy, massive grin. “Hi there, would you mind takin’ a picture for my husband and I?”

The man nods. “Sure, ma’am. Where do you-”

“Oh wonderful. Here,” you say and position the man, handing him your phone, then move back to stand by Jack. “Beau, honey, here,” you say as you position the two of you for the camera. You wrap his arm around your waist and place your hand on his chest, grinning ear to ear. He’s doing the same.

“How ‘bout this?” he asks, swooping you up and holding you bridal style. 

You squeal into his ear, laughing. You almost call him by his real name but stop yourself. “Beau, quit!” You giggle and smack his chest teasingly, playing along with it and smiling for the photo. He lets you down only to pick you up again, hoisting you onto his back, piggyback style. Finding no other choice, you wrap your arms and legs around him, and he rests his hands on your thighs to hold you up. “Beau Pruitt!” You exclaim, emphasizing the words, hoping that the man taking your photos registers the name, knowing it’s not someone threatening. He’d probably take your phone and run if he heard you call the man holding you up by his real name. 

He finally lets you down and you thank the man, taking the phone back and continuing to walk along, naturally lacing your fingers through Jack’s. “What was that?” you ask lowly, smiling despite the pretend annoyance in your voice.

“Playin’ the part, sugar,” he shrugs and smiles at you. As you wander through the midway, Jack’s eye catches on a brightly colored, massive teddy bear hanging from the rafters. When Jack gets a plan, he goes all in. “You know what, honey, if this is to be a proper date, I am gonna win you a teddy bear,” he chuckles, grabbing his wallet.

You quickly push the hand holding his wallet down. “Don’t be ridiculous, babe. I don’t need a teddy bear,” you laugh.

“I am takin’ you on a date to the county fair. It’s only fitting that I win you a teddy bear!” He argues back, laughing. He hands a bill to the attendant, earning him quite a few balls to toss at the stacked milk jugs. “Here we go. This is for the big, tie-dye one up there,” he declares before hurling a ball. 

It hits the top jug and Jack winces. “Ah fuck. Bad shoulder,” he chuckles, picking up another.

“Then why the hell are you doing this, Beau?” you ask, catching yourself before you can call him Jack and holding down his arm. “I don’t need the teddy bear!”

“I already paid the attendant,” he chuckles and leans in to your face, taunting you. He uses your distraction to slip his arm from your grasp, throwing it and hitting the second row of bottles. “Hell yeah!” Jack crows excitedly, arms in the air. You laugh at his excitement and decide to let it happen. He throws three more balls before he knocks down the whole final row, whooping excitedly. “That one, if you please,” he tells the attendant and points to the large bear hanging from the ceiling of the booth. The attendant takes it down and hands it to him, and he promptly hands it to you, beaming. “For you, my dear,” he says, pride radiating from him.

“I love it,” you laugh and hug the massive bear to your chest, kissing its forehead. “I think I’ll name him… Whiskey.” He grins at that and takes your hand again, leading you through the crowd.

-

The rest of the night passes more like a date would than a mission. You and Jack converse happily, simply avoiding real names but talking like you would between friends. His hand rests in yours the whole night, and you enjoy it. The sun begins to go down and the humidity lessens, as does the stifling heat. It’s almost cool now; the both of you wear your flannels properly now, unbuttoned in the front. You munch contently on some cotton candy you finally convinced Jack to buy, even feeding him some to further your ruse. Sighing, you look around and take in the absolute perfection that is this tiny county fair. The sunset is beautiful and the lights of the carnival section are starting to come on. You start to speak until you hear a too-familiar voice through your earpiece.

“Amaretto, Whiskey. They set up shop in the pig barn, but they’re at their most vulnerable. Time to move.” You both groan as you hear your father’s voice. You look down at your interlocked hands between the two of you, then up quickly, remembering. Your father can see what you see with these glasses on. His voice comes in through your earpiece alone now. “See, I told ya it wouldn’t be so bad to spend a little time with Whiskey. I’ve noticed you’re not hating it.”

You shake your head and pull out your earpiece, tucking it in your pocket and murmuring a curse to your father. Jack notices and you simply shrug. “Wasn’t working right. You’re gonna have to relay the messages for me.”

He nods then pauses, listening. He chuckles and turns to you. “He says to put it back in, he knows you can hear him just fine.” You groan and put it back in with a frown. “Next time you want to have family dinner, count on one less plate,” you hiss through the piece, making both Jack and your father laugh. “Whatever, get us to the pig barn then.” Your father guides the two of you through your mission. They’re indeed at their weakest, just four men loading their van with their backs to you. Luckily, they’re the four that Statesman wants. You and Whiskey each easily take out two, leaving them tranquilized on the ground. “Pops, they’re good. Send in the recon van.” A few moments later, the van rushes in through the utility door, and two recon members load the men into the van. You and Whiskey give them a nod, smiling at them and thanking them before leaving the barn.

The voice comes through on just your earpiece again. “Take the rest of the night off. I know you want to.” 

He’s right, you do want to, and so for once, you listen to your damn father. “The rest of the night is up to us,” you say as you turn to Whiskey, removing your earpiece and your glasses and putting them in your bag. You reach for his earpiece, taking it out too, both of you almost shivering at the contact of your wrist to his cheek as you take it out. Jack catches your palm and plants a kiss to it and you grin. “Would you like to stick around, maybe go on some rides?” you ask and put away his earpiece before sliding your hand into his. “As Whiskey and Amaretto?”

Jack grins at you. “I thought you’d never ask.” 

The rest of the evening is spent on rides and eating ice cream, getting squished into Jack’s side on the Scrambler and flipped around on the Slingshot. You both laugh practically all night, overjoyed. You check your watch and look up excitedly, eyes lighting. “The fireworks are gonna go off in ten minutes.” You look at the wait for the ferris wheel- it’s about as long. “Let’s go on the ferris wheel to watch it.”

Jack nods. “Whatever you say, sugar,” he nods, lagging for a moment as you start to run to the next ride, then catching up and pulling you into his chest, kissing your head. You laugh at the feeling of being trapped in his arms and wrap your arms around him too, allowing the bear hug to last a moment longer than it should.

The both of you wait in line for a few minutes, continuing the conversation you’d been having before.

The line eventually shortens enough for the two of you to get on, and you sit, hands on the lap bar. Whiskey sits next to you, draping his arm across your shoulders. You look up at him and smile, scooting into his side. You give a little whoop of excitement as the ride starts moving, and you jump at a loud bang.

You timed it perfectly.

The sky lights with different colors, a variety of fireworks lighting off and illuminating the dark night sky. The stars are clear all the way out here, in the middle of Alabama, and you beam at the image. You pull out your phone to snap some pictures but Jack holds your hand down. “The pictures never do it justice, darlin’. Just look up at those and remember ‘em real hard.” Laughing softly, you rest your head on Jack’s shoulder as you watch. It’s stunning, absolutely gorgeous, and you look at Jack for a moment to find he’s not watching the sky, but has his eyes trained on your face, watching your reaction.

The moment is perfect. He can handle the rejection, he decides, if he has to, but he has to move now. “Can I kiss you, Amaretto?” He murmurs quietly, his face already moving close to yours. You give an answer in the form of a gesture: taking his face in your hands and closing the gap. The kiss is perfect, his soft lips tasting of the cotton candy you finally persuaded him to buy a few hours ago.

He sighs softly, his hand finding the side of your face as well. He breaks away for a moment and looks at your lovely face, grinning at the way your eyes reflect only his face, the dark night sky, and the colorful fireworks. “I think your pops named you wrong. Furthest thing from bitter. You’re the sweetest, most perfect thing I ever did taste,” he drawls before closing the space again, pressing his lips to yours. Your heart pounds in time with the bursts in the sky, erratic and loud, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. You’re finally kissing the man you’ve been crushing on since the moment your father introduced you to the Statesman.

A particularly loud firework startles you and you jump, breaking your kiss and grinning at him, the adrenaline from both the scare and the kiss pounding its way through your body. You look at him and want to say something but can’t find the words. You simply giggle and look into his eyes, making him laugh too. You sit there for a moment, laughing, while the ferris wheel stays stationary. As it moves, you cling to his chest again, looking up and beaming at him. “Kiss me again, cowboy,” you demand, and he chuckles.

“Any time, sugar,” he says with a smile as he takes your chin in his hand and kisses you again.

[kenjikutie]

Starlight [Dabi x Single Mom!Reader]

summary: when you and your children are saved by a man covered in burns, you offer to repaire his staples and clean him up, an offer that gets you much more than you’d bargained for word count: 2.6k warnings: a tiny bit of violence pairing: dabi x fem!reader

waking up at five am every morning to prepare yourself for the day certainly was not how you saw your life turning out four years ago. but, the moment where you opened the door to your twin son’s room washed away all over your regrets and filled the space with nothing but love. you thanked whatever was above you each day that they had ended up looking like you, rather than their father. you didn’t know what you would have done if you had to look at his face for the rest of your life

kindly stroking hibiki’s cheek, you watched as your son squirm awake, blinking away the sleep in his eyes. you smiled softly and whispered your morning greeting to him, watching as he beamed at the sight of his mother. hibiki kicked his small legs at you, a signal for your attention. with a huff, you lifted your son from his bed and sat him on your hip, slightly ticking his sides to see him giggle

when you felt a small tug on your pant-leg, you glanced downward to see hitomu giving you a pout, clearly jealous of the attention his brother was getting. you set your hand on his head, ruffling his soft y/h/c locks before setting down hibiki to present them their outfits for the day. the two had rambled on and on last night about how excited they were to attend their first day of preschool

though you would never tell them, you were just as happy to get a day to yourself while your sons were taken care of. you had so many errands to run, bills to pay and groceries to buy. living as a single mother in the city was tough, both financially and mentally, but it was worth it. you didn’t want to rely on the boy’s father for anything

while you were caught up in your thoughts, hitomu took your hand in his much smaller one, showing you a bright smile, though it was missing a few teeth. he proudly held up his all might lunchbox and you came to the realization he was trying to imitate his idol. hibiki took your other hand, beginning to mutter about how the three of you should get going before they miss breakfast

after locking up the apartment, you kept a steady grip on their hands, not wanting them to get lost in all the hustle and bustle of the city. the boys seemed to glare at everyone who past you, taking their roles as the ‘men of the house’ very seriously. you, on the other hand, were focused on reviewing the route to their preschool, praying that you didn’t get lost along the way

suddenly, you felt a sharp tug on your elbow, causing you to gasp, preparing to let out a scream before a rough hand clamped over your mouth. hitomi and hibiki gripped tightly to you, calling out to you as the three of you were dragged into a nearby alleyway. you were harshly thrown onto the concrete, wincing when you felt your knees scrape against it, surely drawing blood

hibiki clung to your left side, burying his face in your stomach with a sob, “mommy! are you h-hurt?”

you reached upward and set your hands on his cheeks, “hitomi, take your brother and get out of here right now! please!”

darting your eyes around, you caught sight of hitomi but your stomach dropped down to the pits of hell when you saw what he was doing. hitomi had his hands balled up into fists, holding his all might lunchbox in front of him

“l-leave my m-momma alone!”

“hibiki, stop!”, you screamed, terrified of what could happen next

the man laughed, a cruel, wicked sound, before snatching the prized possession out of your son’s hands and throwing it against the brick wall, smirking when he heard it split open. you pulled yourself off the ground, doing the best you could to ignore the throbbing pain in your skull. swiftly, you wrapped your arms around hitomi’s torso, pulling him behind you

with a tightening of your fist, you laid a punch on the attacker’s face, wanting to scream from how bad it hurt. he wiped the blood off of his nose and gripped you by the collar, slamming his forehead onto yours, causing your vision to become nearly entirely black. you could hear your sons crying but couldn’t speak a word

then, a bright flash of blue brought back your vision, feeling yourself slip from the man’s hold and back to the ground. you didn’t even look back at the attacker, despite his screams of pain and agony. hitomi and hibiki were holding one another, tears running down their horrified faces. quickly, you held the back of their heads and tucked their faces into your chest, hoping to hide whatever gruesome thing was happening behind you

when everything went quiet, you shyly lifted your head, flinching when bright blue eyes stared right back at you. the man in front of you was lanky and tall, scars littering his chest and face, along with staples holding his normal skin together. he looked like he was in so much pain and it made your heart ache

“you good?”, he asked, voice gruff and rougher than any sandpaper

“n-no, but,”, you looked up at him with wide eyes, “thank you. thank you so much.”

he didn’t move or acknowledge your thanks, only walked behind you to pick up the lunchbox that now had a huge crack in it, right over the face of your son’s hero. hitomi pulled away from you reluctantly when he felt a tap on his head. his eyes watered at the sight of his lunchbox but he took it back anyways, clutching it to himself

you slowly stood up, but even that was too much for your head. your knees buckled as soon as you were on your feet and you would have fallen back down again had it not been for the hand that steadied your lower back. everything was turning hazy again and you were sure you head a concussion. the last thing you saw was the concerned eyes of your sons and their mouths opening, surely calling out your name

---

you slowly fluttered your eyes open, feeling yourself relax into the softness of a familiar bed. then, you remembered the events before you fell asleep. lifting yourself forward suddenly, you felt the pain in your head come back but you pushed it away, determined to know how you got home and where your children were

the first place you checked was the living room, heart beating even faster when you didn’t see them, only the mess that had been left from their toy playing session the other day. where were your sons? how did you get home? and where-

a relieved sigh left your lips when you opened the door your sons’ room, only to see them snoring softly in their racecar beds. you had never been happier than that moment. when a cough came from the doorway, you jumped, holding out your hands in defense while the figure chuckled

“geez, chill out jumpy. it’s all good.”

the man from before stared at you with humor in his eyes. a part of you said to hit him until he left your home, to chase him out but, another part was begging you to make him stay. you just had to know who had saved you from something so terrible

taking one last look at your sleeping sons, you joined him in the hallway, keeping the door open out of paranoia. he kept his eyes on you, making you more nervous by the second

“um, thank you for back there. if you hadn’t come-”

“you already thanked me. hit your head that hard, jumpy?”, he teased and you felt your fists clench

“well, im sorry if im a bit uneasy after being attacked in an alleyway!”, you threw up your hands and stormed into your room, hearing him cackle behind you but follow you nonetheless

taking a seat on the edge of your bed, you felt tears begin to pool in your eyes. hurriedly wiping them away with your hand, you could feel the bed dip beside you, but neither of you said anything. you held your face in your hands, softly crying your heart out

dabi winced at the sound, the noise of a mother sobbing bringing back memories he would much rather have forgotten. when he had seen you and your kids get pulled into the alleyway, he had contemplated doing nothing to help, just continuing back to the bar. but, the face that had comforted him throughout the nightmare that was childhood would not leave his mind until he saved you

you peeked out from between your fingers to see a tissue being dangled in front of your face. eyes widening, you reached out to accept it, dabbing at your eyes with the soft tissue

“im a failure of a mother.”, you whispered and dabi quickly placed his hand on your shoulder, turning you to face him

“from what i saw, you punched the dude in the face and managed to protect your kids even after gettin’ the life headbutted outta ya. you’re not a bad mom.”

when he began to stand up, you latched onto the sleeve of his long jacket, head hanging down, “why are you doing this? i don’t even know you.”

and at that moment, all he saw was his mother

“you remind me of someone i know.”

raising your head, you tossed the tissue into your garbage can and looked up at him with a pout. he nearly laughed at how much you looked like a little kid but your splotchy eyes made his heartache

“let me repay you.”, dabi raised his eyebrows with a teasing smirk and you blushed, “not like that! i meant that i could fix your staples, they look like they hurt.”

after thinking for a minute, he nodded, “lead the way, jumpy.”

---

dabi was sat on the edge of your bathtub, watching your every move. when you bent down to take the supplies out of the cabinet, his eyes trailed a bit lower but he shook his head with a smirk. you would so not be into that, he thought

“it’s probably gonna hurt but don’t worry, i took a few nursing courses in college so i don’t think i’ll kill you.”, you joked and it made him feel a bit better that you had calmed down

“that’s good to know, jumpy.”

you stood up and set a hand on your hip, looking down at the man with a look typically reserved for your children, “would you stop calling me that?”

kneeling down in front of the tub, you began to wet a cotton ball with some peroxide while dabi shook his head, “no can do. i don’t know what your name is.”

“well, i don't know yours either.”

“and you’re not gonna- jesus!”, dabi jumped at the sudden sting on his cheek and you quickly apologized, rambling about how it was supposed to hurt less if it was a surprise

the two of you entered a comfortable silence, you gently removing and replacing his staples after disinfecting his raw skin. dabi began to look around your bedroom, at least what he could see from the doorway. no photos of anyone but your kids and someone he assumed was your mom. the right side of the bed looked like it hadn’t been used

“your husband probably won’t be happy to find me here, ya know?”, he was pressing slightly, watching to see any reaction you made but your face stayed neutral as you tossed another cotton ball into the trash

“i don’t have a husband, just me and my sons.”, your eyes held sadness, a different one from earlier, this one was dull and seemed very old

“oh. did he-”

“yes.”, your hold on his skin turned harsher and dabi caught your wrist, meeting your eyes before pushing your hand back

“sorry.”, you muttered, going back to your work while dabi watched you intently

the father of your kids must have been someone pretty stupid to leave the three of you. your sons seemed to love you a ton, considering how their walk home consisted of one of them glaring at him while holding your hand and the other quietly telling him where to go

he remembered looking down at your face while you slept in his arms. you were one of the most beautiful women he had ever laid his eyes on, so it was only natural to think you had someone waiting for you at home. but, the only boys who had your heart where the four-year-olds who wouldn’t leave your side until they fell asleep

he had been so deep in thought that he hadn’t even noticed you had finished up. you were right. dabi felt much better. he could finally move his arms and face without feeling like he was about to rip his skin off. maybe he would come back here again if it ever got too bad

“thanks, jumpy.”, dabi said, watching as you glanced down at the tile floor

“y/n. i’m y/n.”, he hadn’t expected you to tell him your name, figuring your paranoia would still have the better of you

dabi fixed his coat and let you walk him to the front door, taking a glance at you from the side. you were gorgeous but, there was nothing he could do about it. he was one of the most wanted villains in japan. it was a miracle you hadn’t noticed who he was yet

the two of you stood in the entryway, you avoiding his gaze and him refusing to look anywhere else. he would probably never see you again with how his life was going but there was a pull in him, a part of himself he had locked away a long time ago, that wanted him to stay here, to fall in love with you

you felt a rough hand place itself on your cheek and you gasped, locking eyes with the man who had saved your life. dabi leaned in and couldn’t help but notice that you did too, but, all you received was a peck on the forehead

“you don’t have to leave, you know?”, you said and he could see the worry in your eyes, but it wasn’t fear for yourself

“sorry beautiful, but i have some prior engagements to take care of. but, you ain’t gotta worry, nothing like that’s gonna happen to you again.”, furrowing your eyebrows as the man opened your door, you reached out to grab him, but he was faster than you

“see you tomorrow morning, y/n.”

the end.

[just-jordie-things]

Partners In Crime Fighting - Peter Parker

word count: 3000 (such a crisp number ahh) warnings: some swearing, that’s it summary: Tony forbid (y/n) from her superhero double life while she was in school.  You can guess what happens from there.

___

(y/n) was, under no circumstances, never ever allowed to go on patrols.  And she especially wasn’t allowed to with Peter Parker.

“Drive!” Peter screamed, and (y/n) was alarmed to see he was sprinting towards her car rather than swinging, which would’ve been faster.

“Pete-?”

“Drive! Drive!”

Not seconds after he’d jumped into her backseat through the open window, three black SUVs rounded the corner, and were speeding towards the masked hero.

It was one of the only rules that Tony had given her.  Usually he tried to keep their relationship professional (since he’d gone a little overboard with his presence in Peter’s life and ended up being a sort of father figure) but he couldn’t help but interfere with (y/n).  His deal was, if she was going to take her first year of college seriously, she had to hang up her suit for the time being.  He’d done it to look out for her, to make sure that she didn’t have to juggle a double life.

“What did you do!?” (y/n) screamed, slamming her foot on the gas pedal.  “It was an easy job! In and out! What, the hell, did you do!?”

“I’m sorry!” Peter screeched, yanking his mask off as he awkwardly crawled into the passenger’s seat.

“Sorry!?” She repeated, glaring at him.  “There are-”

The familiar sounds of gunshots rang in the air, and despite the fear of death coursing through her veins, (y/n) still stared down Peter with daggers in her eyes.

“This will not develop into a car chase!” She declared, hoping to throw off the SUVs when she whipped into an alleyway and drove through it at far too high a speed.

Tonight had been the night that Tony had realized that despite giving her strict instruction not to fight crime this year… she’d been fighting crime anyways. ___

It was against her better judgement to so blatantly ignore Stark, and looking back on it now, she regretted it.  Mostly because Tony was yelling at her and Peter at the moment.

She was eager to start her education, and at first, she’d agreed with Tony.  Focusing on getting her degree was the right thing to do, and it made sense to hang up the ol’ mask and six handguns for a while.

However, as soon as Peter had started telling her that it was weird being on patrol without her, she missed her night job.  And more importantly, she missed her partner in crime-fighting.

“How could you be so thick skulled?” Tony demanded, pacing around in front of the two teens.  “So- so stupid?”

As soon as they’d gotten back to the Avengers Facility, Tony had caught them sneaking in after a mission gone wrong.  He’d sat them down on the sofa, and had been walking back and forth and rambling ever since.

“Would you mind explaining to me how exactly you got tied up with the mafia tonight?” He asked, hands on his hips as he glared at the pair.  

Before either could open their mouth, he was going off on a spiel about irresponsibility again.

“And you-” He pointed towards (y/n), scowling at the sight of her in her fitted black jumpsuit.  “You…” He repeated in a mutter, shaking his finger at her disapprovingly.  “You disobeyed a direct order.  We had a deal, (y/l/n)”

“I know, but-”

“No! No ‘buts’!” Tony cut her off.  “In the past five years that I’ve let you live, work, and fight here, I’ve given you two rules.  Two!” He held two fingers in front of her face for theatrical emphasis.  “Don’t drink the liquor in my cabinet, and don’t put on the suit while you’re in school!”

“Tony-”

“You realize that I gave you that instruction for you? For your safety? For your advancement in your education?” He asked.  “I only did it because I care about you, kid! And you threw it back in my face-”

Frustrated (and a little bored of this long lecture), (y/n) stood from her seat and pointed her finger into Tony’s chest.

“I didn’t do it to break our deal, Stark!” She cried out.  “I didn’t sneak out so that I could try to hurt your feelings, or get under your skin, or whatever other dumb and narcissistic reason you think! It wasn’t about you!”

Peter coughed uncomfortably, leaning back into the couch cushions and wishing they would swallow him whole.  He avoided looking up at the pair by staring intently at his mask, like it would tell him how to get out of this situation.

“I did it for Peter,” (y/n) said, her arm waving back behind her, gesturing to the boy who was now completely interested in the argument.  “I didn’t even do it for me, I did it for him” She sighed defeatedly.

Peter blinked at her, brows crinkling together because that was not what she’d told him.

She’d come to him about a month ago begging to let her go out on the streets with him again because she was restless, and missed putting on the suit.

Tony groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose and shaking his head.

“Have your suit in the lab by tonight, no more joyrides” He told her.

(y/n) narrowed her eyes, and opened her mouth to come back at him with a whole new and pissed off argument, but instead she just gave up and left the room.

“Shut your mouth Peter, you’ll catch flies” Tony grumbled before he headed off in the opposite direction of (y/n). ___

After attending to the bruises she’d acquired when she’d crashed her car, and taking a long shower, (y/n) was ready to forget about her fight with Tony.  Usually they never even had disagreements, but tonight had gone awfully, and it made her heart sink in her chest.  The guilt of fighting with Tony, and fighting behind his back, built up inside of her and made her want to cry and punch a hole in the wall all at once.

When she’d changed and come out of the bathroom attached to her room, her eyes instantly landed on the black suit she’d folded up on her bed when she’d taken it off.

She sighed, picking up the soft leather, and zipping it up, before folding it again and heading out of her room. ___

Peter had been sitting in the kitchen of the facility, still in his Spider-Man suit, the mask forgotten on the counter.  He’d been moping, and trying the new flavors that Tony had added to the coffee machine.  Now he was just mopey and jittery.

“Pete?” (y/n) mumbled to herself when she walked into the kitchen, but his enhanced senses picked up on it.  He turned around, just as surprised to see her as she was to see him.

Especially since she was wearing pajamas, and carrying her jumpsuit.

“Thought you were supposed to bring that to the lab” Peter said as she’d tossed the material on the counter nonchalantly.

Peter could see that her pajama pants had little angry Hulk faces on them, and for a girl that earlier had been driving at 90 miles an hour while still shooting at the gangsters to shoot them, his heart just about melted.  Talk about a girl who does both.

“Thought you weren’t allowed to be up this late,” She teased back, a smirk on her face while Peter went silent, sipping on a cup of coffee.  “Kidding.  I just wanted a few more minutes with it before I had to give it up for the rest of the year”

She eyed the suit almost lovingly, before pouring herself a mug of coffee from the pot Peter had made.  However, as soon as she took a sip of it, she winced at how sweet it was.  Ninety percent creamer and flavored syrups, ten percent coffee.

“Why’d you tell Tony that stuff?” The boy asked suddenly, and he wasn’t sure if the words escaped him because of his anxiety or because of the coffee.  Likely a combination of both, which he should’ve known was dangerous.

“What?” (y/n) replied, dumping the bad coffee and settling on a glass of water instead.

“Why didn’t you just tell him that you missed the job?” Peter asked, drumming his fingers on his mug.  “Why’d you say that you did it for me?”

(y/n) giggled, before sucking her lips in to stifle the nervous sound.  Her head tilted to the side a bit as she examined Peter’s adorably curious expression.  His brows were furrowed, lips parted, and she hadn’t noticed until now that there was a slight pink bruise on his cheekbone that was sure to be red in the morning.

“Because I did do it for you, dummy” She answered softly, simply, and took a drink of her water.  Much more refreshing.

“What? No, you did it cause you were bored and missed fighting crime-”

“I missed you, and fighting crime with you,” (y/n) said, unable to keep herself from rolling her eyes at his obliviousness.  “You came home every night hurt or empty handed, and-”

“So you wanted to babysit me-?”

“Peter,” (y/n) giggled, incapable of being upset with his angered tone.  “It wasn’t just that I also… I also just missed spending time with you.  I didn’t realize that going to school full time and hanging up the suit meant that I’d be giving up almost all my time with you too” She added.

Peter’s momentary anger dissipated instantly.

“You’ve grown on me,” She shrugged like it was the most casual thing to say, like it didn’t make Peter’s heart melt impossibly more for the girl.  “You’re a good partner in crime fighting, Pete” She added sweetly, before dumping the rest of her water and setting her glass in the sink.

Peter was motionless, speechless, hell, he didn’t even look like a living person as he sat there and stared wide eyed at her.

She found his stunned silence endearing, and smiled at him as she took her jumpsuit and left the room.

When she’d walked into the lab, suit in hand, she wasn’t surprised to see Tony tinkering on another Iron Man mod.  It didn’t matter that it was almost two in the morning, if he had an idea, he’d work on it until it was finished.

“Hey,” She called gently, offering a smile as a peace offering.  “What’re you working on now?”

“A sensor that tells me when teenagers sneak out of the compound,” Tony muttered back, but couldn’t hide the smile on his face when she raised a suggestive brow.  “Rewiring my repulsors to blast better.  Faster, more energy, you know” He shrugged, and set down his tools to give her his attention.  He knew she was here for more than just handing in her suit.

“I wanted to say I’m sorry,” (y/n) sighed.  “I was too busy trying to argue earlier that I kinda forgot that… I crossed a line, and went behind your back and… broke my promise”

Tony smiled sadly at the girl as she placed the sleek black suit on the open space of his work table.

“I really didn’t mean to hurt you, Tony,” She told him, hoping he’d see the sincerity in her eyes, and hear it in her voice.  “I would never do something to deliberately upset you.  Unless there’s a comedic reward” She added the last part cheekily, and was relieved when he chuckled and rolled his eyes affectionately.

“I know, kid,” He said, smiling kindly at her.  “I know you didn’t do it to bother me.  I’m sorry for yelling earlier”

(y/n) shrugged her shoulders, curling her fingers together behind her back bashfully.

“And I know you did it for Peter,” Tony continued, now crossing his arms over his chest as he looked her over.  “Mind explaining to me when that developed?”

“When what developed?” She asked innocently, but the smirk on her face told Tony all he needed to know.

“You kids are gonna be the death of me,” He muttered.  “I’m not giving you the talk.  Just don’t be stupid anymore, capisce?”

“Capisce” (y/n) replied with a dramatic salute.

Tony rolled his eyes again.

“And you can keep the suit-” He stopped when her eyes lit up and she bounced on her feet, knowing she’d already gotten overly excited and he hadn’t even finished speaking yet.  “Only-! Only for weekends, got it? That’s it.  Fridays and Saturdays you can patrol with Peter, deal?”

“Deal!” (y/n) grinned, shaking his outstretched hand before reaching greedily for her jumpsuit, clutching it closely and proudly to her chest.

Tony chuckled fondly as she cradled it like a security blanket.

“Alright.  It’s late, get outta here” He told her, while going back to his late night project.

“Goodnight, Stark!” She hollered as she raced out of the lab.

The man just laughed as she hadn’t even given him the time to reply before she was out of sight. ___

“Peter!” (y/n) called out as she rapidly knocked on his door, effectively waking up him, and everyone else who lived on this floor.  “Peter!” She yelled again when he didn’t immediately answer the door.

It swung open, revealing a very tired, and very confused Peter Parker.  But he soon snapped into reality when (y/n) held up her suit, grinning ear to ear.

“He let you keep the suit?” Peter asked incredulously, excited for her.

She nodded her head rapidly, squealing a bit as she clutched the leather in her hands tightly.

“He did!” She whisper-screamed.  “And he said I can patrol with you on Fridays and Saturdays” She added with an eager grin.

The smile that Peter returned to her was automatic.  She looked like the embodiment of pure joy, and he wasn’t sure if he’s seen her this happy before.

“That’s great,” He told her.  “I’m glad I don’t have to go by myself anymore, it’s not as fun trash talking without you”

She giggled before throwing her arms around his neck and hugging him excitedly.  Her suit was still clutched in her hands.

Just as she was about to pull away, he held on a little tighter, and then she just couldn’t help returning the snug hold.

Her arms wrapped a little more securely around his neck, and she pressed her face into the crook of his neck.  For a second, she considered standing there like this until her legs gave out.

“By the way, you’ve grown on me too” He told her, and reluctantly pulled away.  

She smiled up at him, a blush on her cheeks for having clung to him so long.  But he was smiling back at her, and her nerves evaporated.

Before she could head off to her own quarters, and before he could chicken out, he pulled her back in towards him, hesitating for only a second, eyes flickering between hers, before leaning down and capturing her lips in his.

The jumpsuit that she had been so glad to keep fell from her hold as her hands instead entangled themselves in his hair and melting into the feeling of his soft lips against hers.  She had to admit, she didn’t think anxious over-thinker Peter Parker had it in him to make a move like this, but she wasn’t about to deny it.

His arms were wrapped so snugly around her waist that she couldn’t focus on any other sense of touch than his.  And when they parted, she let out a shaky sign, like he’d taken every last breath out of her lungs.

Her eyes fluttered open, only to find his staring back at her, cheeks pink and his lips twitching into a smile.

“O-okay” (y/n) stammered out, unsure of what to say now.  Peter giggled, a soft, cute little sound that made her laugh with him.

“Sorry I- I wanted to do that for a while- and-and then you told me earlier that you missed me and it just surprised me and-”

(y/n’s) hands splayed over his cheeks as she pulled his lips down to hers again, only pecking them shortly to shut him up from his rambling.

“You’re so cute when you babble,” She murmured, her thumb stroking over his slightly bruised cheekbone.  “I should… I should probably go to bed now,” He nodded, understanding since it was so late.  “But after my classes tomorrow… want to get dinner?”

Peter grinned down at her, a teasing, knowing grin, which made her face feel hot.

“Shut up-” She muttered,but Peter shook his head, and cut her off.

“You want to go on a date with me?” He asked, playfully poking at her sides, and she rolled her eyes, despite her smile tiring her cheeks.

“Yeah…” She said quietly, but surely.  “I do… look, the few weeks that you went on patrol without me I- I was serious about missing that time with you and I just… I want to spend more time with you, like- all the time”

A smile broke across Peter’s face, and he nodded his head.

“Alright, you’ve convinced me.  I’ll go on a date with you” He said, and she narrowed her eyes back at him.

“I’ve convinced you?” She repeated, quirking an eyebrow.

“Yep,” He replied, and picking up her jumpsuit from the floor, and putting it in her hands.  “Depending on how it goes, maybe you’ll convince me to go on a second date too”

(y/n) giggled, unable to keep up the skeptical facade.

“I’ll see what I can do,” She hummed, leaning forward and leaving a soft kiss on his lips and then smiling coyly.  “Goodnight, Peter” She told him while he was left speechless, before heading down the hall to the elevator.

There would be many more dates than two.

And there would be many more car chases gone wrong for Tony to get upset over.

___

taglist:  @writings-and-stuff @rofromtheashes @tomshufflepuff @steve-avengers-rogers @vibhati123 @dark-night-sky-99  @hollandhours @drakonwild @imofficiallyobsessed @fussy-and-a-writer-sometimes

xoxo ~ jordie

[monaisme]

The Battle

No one had seen Peter staggering through the portal. For what they were walking into, Peter could only guess that whoever was on the other side of things was focussing more on the masses and not on some kid from Queens in a spider-suit.

His eyes widened as he tried to take in the destruction before him. Dr. Strange had said that it had been five years and that they all had to go fight; that this was a battle for the very universe.

Peter had almost thought he was joking-- and then he saw this.

The sky was grey with smoke and fires still burned in the rubble that had once been the compound. Peter was sure he recognized the Asgardian symbol still etched into the grass next to what was left of the long drive that wound its way up to the now decimated building. The labs, the training rooms—his bedroom for all those weekends with Mr. Stark… everything was gone. 

He choked back his panic.  

Peter had tried to explain to the wizard what was happening before they’d even left Titan, but the abrupt, “Not now, Peter. We have to go,” followed by their arrival? Yeah, he’d never gotten the chance.

And now? 

Now he was going to die. He was certain of it.

A wave of nausea washed over him and Peter tried not to visibly hunch over from the pain of his body cramping. Beads of sweat dotted his brow and he’d only walked a matter of feet-- granted, it was from one planet to another, but those portals were closed now and that wasn’t the point. It was happening to him again, and someone needed to know that he couldn’t use his—  

“AVENGERS ASSEMBLE!” 

The hush that had fallen upon their arrival was broken by Captain America’s battle cry, and the multitude of people, aliens, and allies were suddenly surging forward in an attack like nothing Peter could ever have imagined.

He did his best to keep up. Peter was an Avenger too, after all, though he wasn’t quite sure how effective he’d be with the asthma that was now acting up with vengeance. Already he was sure it would kill him before any of Thanos’s minions could.

He felt his muscles straining—maybe even rippling as he pushed himself onward, weaving through the clusters of fighting, trying to find some way to help. A tripping up here or the retrieval of a weapon there was all he could manage but he was grateful that he could at least do that.

He paused, doubled over and trying to catch his breath. He tried squinting through the chaos as he gasped-- hoped he’d see Iron Man red through the insanity—and then he did! 

Iron Man was there, firing repulsor blast after repulsor blast at the enemy and for a brief second, Peter was reminded of why Mr. Stark was his favourite Avenger. Then a mammoth of an alien came up from behind, throwing his mentor to the ground and preparing to strike him down.    

Peter moved without a thought. He ignored the ache in his lungs and the pain that was amplifying through his body again as he threw his arm out and thwipped at the creature’s ankles. Peter jerked at the taut webbing with everything he could muster to no avail. He was too weak. His only hope had been...

It took a step closer, lifting its weapon to aim and then... well, it tried.

Even with the explosions and blasts around them, Peter could feel the earth beneath him shudder at the impact of its body falling to the ground and he struggled to stay upright. It looked at the bindings around its ankles, seemingly confused by what could have confined it... not that it mattered.  The big-small guy from Berlin was suddenly stepping over him and crushing their enemy.

If he hadn’t been so shocked by how that had played out, it might have been one of the coolest things Peter had ever seen.

He took a second to take in the scene, the people around him, and then Mr. Stark. Air not moving through lungs right be damned, there he was, and Peter could finally get the help that he needed. “Hey! Holy cow! You will not believe what’s going on,” He paused to try and catch his breath. “You remember when we were in space? And I got all dusty? Well,” he fought to hide the wheeze. “I woke up and you were gone but Dr. Strange was there, right?” Peter’s head was spinning, but he needed to get all of this out so that Mr. Stark understood. “He was like, it’s been five years. C’mon, they need us and he started doing the yellow sparkling thing he does all the time and, oh.” Mr. Stark rushed forward and grasped his shoulders. “What are you doing?” He didn’t understand.

And his mentor, the man he’d secretly thought of as a father-figure for months—or was it really years?—pulled him into a hug.

“Oh, this is nice.” Peter melted in the embrace, feeling safer than he could remember in a long time.  

Their reunion didn’t last long enough. Peter pulled back a little and opened his mouth to tell Mr. Stark what was going on when the battle encroached again and the two were separated.

It was a blur.  Mr. Stark went left and Peter went right—he’d lost sight of the Iron Man suit within seconds, and still no one knew. And then, if things hadn’t already been crazy enough, the Black Panther and that Squidward guy were in a battle for that damned gauntlet... and Peter was there in the thick of it.

Searing pain shot through his legs and spine so he crouched down, trying to relieve even a fraction of it, then the ground rose up beneath him. He’d barely managed to keep his balance when the Black Panther tossed the gauntlet at Peter directly and continued on with his fight.

He couldn’t hide the shock on his face. He’d caught it and even managed to keep hold of it while the earth below him dropped, leaving him winded and spread eagle on the ground. “Aw, shit,” he coughed out as he tried to catch his breath again. He just couldn’t catch a break.

And then he noticed the silence, again.

Every eye was on him.

In a burst of genius, Peter webbed the gauntlet to his chest and shouted out, “Activate Instant Kill!” Karen complied and within a blink, his red-lensed mask was back in place and six vibranium legs extended from their hiding place. Peter uttered thanks for Mr. Stark and his ability to create something so ridiculously intuitive. The legs brought him back up to standing, but he staggered as he tried to find his footing. The suit had been incredible to use on Titan, but that was before his powers had—

The crowd of enemies swarmed.

He hadn’t moved quickly enough. His reflexes were fighting with his new limitations, leaving him with exactly zero ability to fight back against the dogpile currently punching and kicking on top of him. He felt a couple of his ribs break and he collapsed from the sheer weight on top of him as he curled around their prize. It hurt so much more for his body’s rebellion. His six legs slashed and stabbed at his attackers giving him a hell’s chance of trying to claw his way out. “Help.” Peter choked out, “Somebody help.”

He could barely hear Captain America over his comms, “Hey, Queens! Heads up!” Like a man drowning at sea, he raised his hand up above the fray and webbed hold of Thor’s hammer handle as it flew past.

He couldn’t be sure if he heard or felt the pop of his shoulder dislocating as the hammer’s momentum pulled him from the fray. All he knew was that it hurt like nothing he’d ever experienced in his life. It took everything he had left—and it didn’t feel like much—to not release. Instead, Peter grabbed onto his web with his good hand, brushed against the gauntlet still attached to him, and prayed that his strength would hold long enough to get him far enough away.

A blast from a ship overhead messed that plan up right away as it sliced through the webbing and he plummeted to the ground. He was sure he was going to die in that very moment and closed his eyes, bracing himself for an impact that never came. Someone in an Iron Man-like suit caught him by his dislocated arm and flung Peter back up into the air.

He was sure he’d screamed, even as his vision whited out from the pain, and he was sure he was airborne, even as his head had barely cleared and the wind whipped past him. That he’d landed on something that was rising and dropping in a rhythm unlike anything he could place was confusing, even as his mind began to muddle—though he thought that might be because of the fever.

Dammit! The fever had been the worst last time.

He worked to focus on his surroundings—couldn’t, and then he was falling again.

No one caught him this time.

He came to with a start and a laser focus. The earth around him was exploding and it didn’t matter that he couldn’t breathe and he couldn’t see and that his muscles were screaming out in agony and that his nerves were on fire and that he was so damned hot—all that mattered was that he do his part, ‘cuz Spider-Man was an Avenger. He couldn’t move though, it was too much for all of the weapon fire, save for closing his eyes, curling himself protectively around that damned gauntlet and waiting for the end.

Please, let this end.

And then it did.

If Peter had known to open his eyes, he’d have seen a bright light streaking through the clouds and then cut straight through the ship that had been raining down hellfire, even with his poor vision. He’d have seen the ship darken and then tilt, even as it floated above the battlefield, then crash into the hoards of Thanos’s alien soldiers, decimating their numbers. He’d have seen the streak of light slow, and then descend to exactly where he lay.

But he kept his eyes closed, hoped it would make him invisible...

Someone tapped on his shoulder.

He gasped at the shock of the touch and his eyes flew open, though he had to blink a few times to clear his vision. The dirt and dust were still settling and the grit was irritating his eyes something awful. But then he could see—crouching on the ground before him, a woman, all glow and smile.

He could have wept with relief. An ally.

He staggered as he climbed to his feet. Black spots danced before his eyes, but he fought against them, tried to take a deep breath, and then fought again the pain of his transformation and battle injuries. “Hi,” he rasped out. “Peter Parker.”

Her smile disappeared and her brow furrowed in concern. “Hey, Peter Parker. You got something for me?”

His ears started ringing then, and the earth tipped just a little to the left. He couldn’t understand, “What?”

He thought she was looking at him a little weird, which was okay, ‘cuz Peter was a little weird, but then she stepped towards him, cautious. “Peter? Can I have the gauntlet now?”

His eyelids fluttered and he could see the blackness edging in at the corner of his vision, but he knew he had to fight it. She needed something from him and it was... was...

“Peter?”

He swayed.

“Peter, I’m gonna lay you down, buddy. Okay?”

He nodded dumbly.

She placed a hand on his good shoulder for comfort, he thought, but then she was laying him down in the dirt.”

“Stark!” He heard her bark out to no one. “Something’s wrong with your kid. Get to my position now!”

He closed his eyes as the woman stood up and starting firing at something over wherever because it didn’t matter anymore. He was just gonna rest for a minute and closed his eyes and—his head lolled to the side.

“Peter!” A hand tapped against his cheek. “This is not the time for checkin’ out, kiddo. Wakey, wakey!” The hand tapped again.

“Stark, I need to get the gauntlet over to the quantum tunnel.” Weapons fire blasted over him. “Is there any way you can get that thing off of him for me?”  More blasting. “I didn’t want to damage him or the suit anymore, in case...”

The tapping turned to light slaps and Peter tried to swat it away. “Nghhh.” He turned his head away.

“Hey! Peter! C’mon, kid. I need you to listen to me.”

Mr. Stark?

“We need you to switch your web settings to the solvent. I don’t know if it’s your suit or mine, but a suit is damaged and FRIDAY can’t connect to get Karen to make the switch.” He slapped again. “Pete, we need the gauntlet and can’t get it off without burning you. Are you hearing me?”

More shots and then an explosion off in the distance.

Mr. Stark muttered a “shit.” The slaps started to hurt. “We gotta do this now, kiddo. Please wake up.”

It was like he was just waiting for someone to ask nicely. His eyes widened and he gulped in air like he’d been underwater. He looked around, trying to get his bearings. “Wha’s goin’ on?” He asked, using the last of that breath.

“Thank goodness! Pete, your web solvent. Activate it. We need to get the gauntlet off of you and away, okay? Can you do that, buddy?”

Peter looked at Mr. Stark, who’d definitely been hurt since they’d last seen each other, and then at the woman standing as protector over them. He thought he understood, nodded a yes to Mr. Stark, and then whispered, “Karen, web solvent.” He knew that the change had happened. Karen never let him down—and then he moved his arm to spray and release... or tried.

Mr. Stark saw what he was doing and saw what the problem was right away. “Kid, the shooter’s damaged. You’ll need to use your other...” Mr. Stark must’ve finally noticed his other arm—and the obvious malformation at Peter’s still dislocated shoulder. “Oh. Shit.”

Even for the everything going on inside of and around him, Peter’s brain cleared enough to mutter, “Just move it and double tap.”

Another explosion, this one closer than the last one, went off and the woman looked at Mr. Stark, announced that she’d be right back, and flew off into the chaos.

It was just the two of them.

Mr. Stark looked lost as he shook his head. “I don’t want to hurt you, kid, but we don’t have time...” He gripped Peter’s limp arm and closed his eyes, like he was praying. “I’m so sorry for this.”

“I’s okay, Mr. Stark,” he coughed out. “Fix it later, ‘kay?”

Mr. Stark teared up a little, then nodded. “Yeah, kid. We’ll definitely be fixing this.” He lifted Peter’s arm and manoeuvred it so he could access the webshooters. He looked back into Peter’s eyes and said, “I’ll be quick.”

And with a nod from Peter, Mr. Stark pressed down on the webshooter and covered the gauntlet—finally releasing it from its webbed confines.

The world spun as Peter grunted through the pain of having his arm manipulated. The grunting led to coughing and, as Tony lifted the gauntlet off of Peter’s chest, the coughing became uncontrollable and turned into choking.

“Is he okay?”

The woman had returned.

“I’ve got him. Just deal with that,” Mr. Stark commanded as he handed her the gauntlet and the woman flew off.

If Peter never saw it again...

He suddenly gagged as he struggled to find a rhythm, but he couldn’t. The gagging turned to dry heaving and he could barely inhale. Peter started to panic.

Mr. Stark was right beside, but moved—shifting Peter onto his side and ignoring the lighting pain in his arm altogether as he moved him into the recovery position.

His throat tightened and then his body purged. Bile and Titan’s dust filled his throat and mouth as he tried to expel it, but he was so weak and so tired...

A hand slammed against his back, “Get it out, Peter. C’mon! Out!”

It helped, as he tried to empty himself of that other planet, and Peter thought that maybe he’d be okay until—

Muscles rippled once more and his entire body burned from the inside, out. His senses amplified it all as he could hear everything from the cries of people dying on the battlefield to crackling of flames still not burned out. Beyond the vomit and Mr. Stark’s blood, the smell of dust and ash filled his nose and he choked again as the wind sandblasted his face.

He tried to cry out.

Mr. Stark pressed firm against his back, “I’ve got you, Peter. I’m here.” He whispered, and he leaned over the boy to sweep the vomit from his mouth. “We’ll fix this, kid. I promise.”

And Peter was just grateful that he wasn’t going to die alone.  

The fight was dizzying in its intensity, so he closed his eyes to the onslaught of visual stimuli. His timing was impeccable, as a flash of light bright enough to burn through Peter’s eyelids burst out from somewhere—Peter couldn’t focus on it for the pain of the overload. He writhed as though tortured.

And then the wind caught again—this time it carried with it a different ash, one he’d smelled on Titan and that he couldn’t bear to smell again. He clawed at the ground, tried to get away from the inevitable... tried to get away from the hurt and darkness and moaning and wailing and emptiness...

And then Peter finally succumbed to the nothing.

* * * * * *

“—eter! Wake up! C’mon, ki—“

* * * * * *

“—incredible! His DNA is literally rewriting its—“

* * * * * *

“The overload must have been just—“

* * * * * *

“Hey, Peter Parker, you’re pretty badass considering—“

* * * * * *

“—on his side! Bruce, grab the compresses again, now! Dammit, he’s seiz—“

* * * * * *

“—May. I know. I wish you could be here, too, but as soon as he wakes up we’ll give you a call and set up a video chat, okay?” A pause. “Yes, May, I’ll tell him that you love him.” A snort laugh. “Yes, May. I’ll give him a big kiss and tell him that he’s grounded.” Another pause. “I know, May. Do you need anything? I can have—“

* * * * * *

“—eter? Hey, kid, are you coming back to us now? I’ve waited a long time to see you, bud, and you’re making me nuts here. I can’t do another five, ‘kay?”

* * * * * *

“—don’t wake him up, Pepper. I’m telling you. Dr. Cho did some tests and it looks like he’s coming back to us. We just need him to—I don’t know? Finish cooking?”

Ms. Potts snorted. “Cute, Tony. I’m just worried that you aren’t getting the rest that you need and with everything going on now—“

“Hey, hey, hey! You know you don’t need to worry about me. I’m fine—and tired is like a perpetual state of being for me—even now that I’ve been domesticated.”

Mr. Stark and Ms. Potts laughed quietly, and then Peter was sure he could hear the sound of kissing. He groaned. Seriously? He was dying and his mentor was making out with his fiancée?

“Peter?”

He inhaled deep, trying to wake up a little more before answering, and noticed the mask on his face. He tried to bring his hand up to remove it but it caught on a—a sling? “Wha-?”

A hand pressed his arm back to his chest and adjusted the mask. “Try to be still. And no touching that, too, Pete. Dr. Cho says you need this for a little bit longer, okay?”

“Mis-er Stark?” He finally managed to open his eyes and tried to understand the monitors and equipment in the low-lit room. “Wha’ happened?” He pushed out.

“We had another go at Thanos, Roo, and this time, we won.” Mr. Stark replied, but he looked so sad—

“Mis-er Stark?” Peter remembered the battle, remembered seeing Mr. Stark bruised and bleeding. “Are you o—“ Peter’s words cut off as a jolt of pain lanced through legs and he almost cried out. He caught himself though, and tried to keep going.

Mr. Stark stopped him. “Hey, I’m okay—just worried about you right now.” He ran his fingers through Peter’s hair, pressed his hand against his still fevered forehead, “I am so sorry that you have to go through this again, Spider-Man.”

Peter didn’t know what to say to that, so he shrugged, wincing as he jostled his still bad shoulder. “It’s okay.” He mumbled. “Couldn’t be helped...”

Mr. Stark’s sadness morphed to tortured. “No, I guess it couldn’t...  I’m still so sorry.”

Peter could feel the exhaustion trying to claim him again, but he was missing something. “Uhhh- is somethin’ else goin’ on?” He looked between Mr. Stark and Ms. Potts, who had stepped back a few steps to give the two heroes a moment alone.

“Everything is fine, Peter.” Ms. Potts piped in, looking far less melancholy than Mr. Stark. “Tony is just upset that you’re having such a rough time of it, but all’s right in the end and...” she looked at her watch as she dragged out her answer then looked at Mr. Stark, “I believe we’ve probably delayed telling Dr. Cho that you’re awake long enough, so if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to inform one of the nurses.” She smiled at the boy in the bed, rubbed at his calf affectionately as she walked by the bed, and then stepped out of the room.

It was getting difficult to keep his eyes open. “Mis-er Stark?”

The man leaned forward and pressed a tender, paternal kiss to Peter’s forehead. “Why don’t you rest for now, sweetheart. I’ll tell Dr. Cho that you fell back to sleep and we’ll talk when you’re more awake, okay?”

The smile Peter offered up was kind of goofy. “Okay—but...” Peter looked around the room. “Can you stay with me?”

Mr. Stark knew how much Peter hated the med bay— always stayed, “You know I will, Petey. I’ll always be there for you.”

Peter muttered a quick, “Thanks,” and closed his eyes.

If he’d been more alert, he would have noted the underlying tone that Mr. Stark had used... would have realized that the man was making a promise bigger than an evening.

But he didn’t, and it didn’t take long for the boy to give in to his exhaustion. He’d slept through the last stretch of his transformation the first time—and this time seemed no different, save for the injuries he’d suffered, and even they’d heal soon enough.

And as he slept, he missed the prayer that Mr. Stark offered to whatever deity would listen—that Peter would know just how much he meant it. He would be there for him, no matter what.

[potato-an0n]

Part 2 of my really long oddly specific levihan now family fic no one asked for

(part 1 is right here)

Context for this: I'll be using Sophie's (aka drinkyourfuckingmilk) levihan children ocs, but made a few tweaks (here's more info on Samson and Leelu here)

Their personalities are still the same (well, I might tone down their crackhead-ness just a bit) the only difference is their birthdays, and instead of being 1 year apart, they're a few minutes apart, and Samson is the oldest twin by 5 minutes XD.

So...this is going to be REALLY long so be prepared for that.

Ok enjoy!

- Levi came up with the name Sam but Hange thought it sounded basic, so she came up with Samson.

- Levi also came up with Leighla, and then Hange started calling her Leelu as a nickname.

- Samson was a pretty loud baby as Leelu was pretty quiet, however she does get aggressive.

- Leighla once almost slapped Levi in the face when she was hungry.

- Samson makes weird noises whenever Levi is around, and he look at him confused, which made Samson giggle.

- Hange and Levi switch nights to watch over the twins.

- I can imagine Levi singing them to sleep and it actually works.

- Sometimes, Hange would watch from the door.

- Hange would ramble on and on about her experiments to the twins, despite Levi telling her they're not going to get it since they're babies and to at least wait until they can talk.

- When they take the twins outside, Samson would look around the environment they're in, meanwhile Leighla sleeps.

- Hange's parents came to visit to see the twins and offered to babysit them since Levi and Hange looked like they haven't slept, so they let Hange's parents babysit them as they catch up on some sleep.

- Kuchel and Kenny visited at one point to see the twins as well, and Kenny almost dropped Samson bc Samson wanted to be tossed.

- Levi was pissed but held back bc his mom, Hange and the twins are there, however, he didn't let Kenny carry him for awhile.

- The twins took a liking to Erwin, Mike, Nanaba, Moblit, Nifa, Farlan and Isabel.

- Samson and Leighla would sometimes pull on Isabel's pigtails.

- They also pulled Mike's hair and Leighla would lightly slap his face. Levi was amused by this.

- They were surprisingly calm when Erwin and Farlan held them. The twins would just stare at them and then lay on their shoulder.

- Nanaba played peek-a-boo with them and they seem to enjoy it.

- Moblit was a bit hesitant holding the twins, but they took a liking to him bc they started giggling.

- Samson took a huge liking to Nifa.

- Levi didn't feel comfortable with the twins around the 104th squad until they could stand (at least) bc he's afraid either they'll break the twins or the twins will break them.

- Mikasa asked about meeting the twins when she was helping out at the tea shop and went home with Levi to see them.

- Mikasa let out a soft smile as the twins started babbling to her and tried to touch her hair.

- She would try to get them to say her name but failed every time.

- Both Samson and Leighla are pretty active babies. Once they were able to crawl, they would crawl all over the house to the point where Hange would chase after them (she had fun chasing them around though and would praise at how active they are).

- Levi definitely baby proofed the house (and the tea shop)

- Once Hange was able to go back to work, Levi would take the twin to the tea shop to watch over them. They would be in the playpen in his office.

- Petra, Olou, Eld, Gunther, and Eren played with them a lot and gave them a lot of attention.

- As they were nearing their first birthday, the twins learned how to walk (or waddle) .

-Levi would watch them from afar in strict dad mode (aka how he usually is) but later eased up a bit.

- He gave the 104th kids a VERY stern warning to behave (specifically warned Jean, Eren and Connie), be gentle with the twins and made sure that their hands are clean.

- Samson loved the attention he was getting, meanwhile Leighla felt a bit overwhelmed until Armin carried her, she started to feel at ease.

- They occasionally enjoy Connie's silly peek-a-boo face.

- Sasha ate their baby snacks "on accident."

- Jean and Eren would bicker who the twins likes more, but turns out they like Armin, and Mikasa the most.

- Sometimes Ymir and Historia will join the 104th squad and play with the twins.

- Marco sometimes like to watch them crawl around and they'd chill on his lap sometimes.

- One time, Reiner, Bertholdt and Annie came into the tea shop and at first, they were confused on what's going on until they saw everyone was playing with Samson and Leighla.

- Samson and Leighla saw Bertholdt and started making grabby hands towards him.

- Bertholdt was a bit nervous, but held them anyways.

- When Bertholdt tried to give them back, they would NOT let go.

- Leighla did not like Annie. She got pretty aggressive when Annie tried to hold her at one point.

- Samson would poke Leighla repeatedly on her face to get her reaction until one time he accidentally poked her eye. She started to cry out of pain and then punched Samson in the face and he started crying.

- You can imagine how that went for Levi and Hange.

- Leighla and Samson were playing with the 104th squad and Leighla wanted Armin to carry her so her first word was Armin.

- Mikasa totally wasn't salty about that.

- The whole squad was freaking out and Armin felt honored.

- Leighla felt proud of herself.

- Levi was about to tell everyone to keep it down, but when he heard Leighla say her first word, he felt so proud of his little girl. He didn't show it, but when he took her to his office to feed her, he softly smiled at her and basically had a little father-daughter bonding time.

- Hange basically twirled her around screaming how she can now talk and smothered her with affections.

- The family was walking in the park, with Hange carrying Samson and Levi carrying Leighla. Samson spotted a butterfly and pointed at it saying bug.

- Hange started squealing "that's my boy!" and then gave a huge lecture on butterflies.

- Even though Samson has no idea what the heck she's saying, he seemed interested.

- Levi sighed, but gave Samson a soft smile and a pat on the head.

Toddlers- 4 years old

- They would make a mess in the living room bc they like to throw pillows at each other.

- Levi obviously scolded them and taught them how to pick up after themselves and where to put their toys away. Remind you they were toddlers.

- At least they learned where to put their toys and didn't scatter them onto the floor.

- They LOVE listening to Hange ramblings, especially Samson.

- She made bedtime stories more interesting, the twins looks forward to that.

- Levi would cuddle them close and listens to Hange telling them bedtime stories.

- Leighla really likes fairy tale stories, I would say her favorite would be Cinderella.

-Idk why, but I feel like Samson would like Alice in Wonderland, actually, they both like Alice in Wonderland.

- Hange would tell them the Grimms brothers version of the fairy tale classics, and although they were fascinated by it, in the long run.....that wasn't a good idea.

- Levi told Hange she shouldn't do that, but ofc, she didn't listen (spoiler, he gave her the "I told you so" look after an incident later in the future)

- Things started getting really busy at the tea shop, so grandma Kuchel would watch over them and they LOVE her, she's so sweet. She would tell them Levi's childhood stories.

- Isabel once babysat them and it was pretty chaotic. They made a blanket fort with her and they would cuddle up watching a movie together, it was so cute.

- Levi wasn't really happy that he's gonna have to clean that up but it was cute and the twins are in one piece so he let it slide.

- Hange took a picture.

- The twins liked riding on Mike's shoulders bc he's so tall.

- Nanaba would sometimes chase them around (idk I thought it'd be cute)

- One time, Hange brought her kids to her work and they wandered off.

- Luckily, Moblit found them in the lab staring at Hange's guinea pigs, Sawney and Bean.

- Moblit took them out for a bit so they can hold them.

- Hange came barreling into the lab out of breath and panicking to Moblit that she can't find the kids, only to find them playing with Sawney and Bean and Moblit.

- Hange ended up rambling about Sawney and Bean to the kids and went into too much detail.

- Nifa saw them playing with Sawney and Bean and decided to join them.

- When they go to the tea shop, Levi would lecture them on what rules to follow, things like not running around, disturbing the staff, steal pastries and don't exit the tea shop.

- Sometimes staff would make them iced fruit teas and give them a cookie to snack on.

- Connie would teach them how to do pranks. He had them one time sprinkle salt into Jean's tea and uhhh Jean spit it in Eren's face which resulted in a fight.

- Levi broke it up and was furious at Connie and the twins.

- He made Connie and the twins apologize and clean up the spill.

- He gave them a really strict lecture when they got home and uh, lets just say that was the first time they've seen Levi genuinely mad and it scared them a bit.

- Their punishment is to clean that they have to do house chores and help out with the tea cafe, they can't be with the 104th squad for a week.

- Hange bursted out laughing when she heard what they did, but stopped when she saw Levi wasn't happy.

- She could tell Levi had a stressful day, so she snuggled against him to comfort him.

- She saw the twins peaking from behind the entrance of the living room and called out to them to join them.

- They hesitantly went to into the living room and sat on the floor next to Hange.

- "What's wrong kiddos? Come here, don't be shy, it's just us."

- Samson and Leighla both squished each other on the left side of the couch and kinda hiding behind Hange.

- Hange picked up what's happening and brought the kids closer to them and gave them a pep talk.

- "Kids, I know you feel scared and guilty, but you know, even if you guys messed up, your dad and I still love you very much ok? And it's ok to make mistakes, it happens to the best of us, even you're perfectionist of a dad messes up sometimes, especially when we first got together but that's another story for when you kids are older. Anyways, the importance of making mistakes is that we make them so we learn from them and grow as people. And in the lab, we make mistakes or errors, but we don't give up, we learn from those errors and study past errors in order to find a way to thoroughly run an experiment and come to an accurate conclusion, there's this one experiment-"

"Hange, I think they get the point."

"Right, so in short, it's good you feel sorry for what you did, and it shows you genuinely care, but even though there will be times where we're going to have to be tough on you, we'll always love you ok?"

- Samson and Leighla apologized for their earlier actions and Levi apologized for yelling at them, and cue the sweet family bonding time on the couch.

This got way too long so part 3

[embrassemoi]

Surrounded by The Moon and Stars • 08

Pairings: Sirius Black x [F]Reader, Remus Lupin x [F]Reader Content: Language, possible errors Author’s notes: Had a hard time with this one. 

Masterlist: Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Chapter 8: Master Plan

❉───────•~❉•᯽•❉~•───────❉

Surgeons always have a plan, that’s what Y/N picked up from her mother over the years. They knew what scalpel they needed, where to cut or clamp down. But even with their carefully crafted plans, there are unexpected things bound to arise that we don’t originally consider.

“Stop moving.”

Because that was not a part of her plan. So she began to formulate a new one:

a) Surely if she were to scream now, it would alert professor McGonagall. She would come rushing to help and free her.

b) But if she stepped on the person's shoe while screaming, it would distract them just long enough for her to have a head start. The pain would be so sudden that they would drop their arms and she could run. If she focused hard enough too, she could channel magic around her. Besides, if all else fails, McGonagall would still be there.

Option b) sounded like a great plan.

Now that her attacker's hand was drawn back, Y/N opened her mouth until she promptly shut it again. In the dark, she vaguely makes out a tall figure coming into view, a familiar mop of fawn-like hair appearing from behind her.

It was Remus.

With his presence, her body instantly relaxes. Her shoulders slump as tension and fear slowly dissolve. Remus tosses her a glance, shooting a gentle smile before his face darkens as he nods. He brings a finger to his lips, warning them to not interrupt.

To her delight, Y/N feels the person’s grip loosen even more, however, their arms were still caged and secured snuggly. Her heart slowed, becoming calmer as her brain moved from the idea of self-defence to confusion.

McGonagall finally enters the main corridor. From where they stood, her back faced them as she peered around the darkness, gripping the base of her candelabra. It glowed brightly, lighting up the surrounding area.

This was the only time Y/N had seen her professor after official school hours. Her outfit was mismatched; a soft pyjama set, with her school robes and heels on. She swore she had a sleeping mask hanging around her neck. Had pure adrenaline not been coursing through her veins, she would have snorted.

Remus uses this to his advantage as he shuffles his way towards McGonagall. He brushes off the non-existent dust from his suit before he reaches into his pocket, placing a shiny pin on the breast pocket. He then coughs, gaining her attention.

Startled, McGonagall wheeled her head, “Mr. Lupin! What are you doing here?”

He puts his hands in the pocket of his suit cooly. “Good evening professor. I’m doing my rounds. I actually just came from Slughorn's party a while ago.” He says, gesturing to his unusual patrol outfit.

McGonagall remains silent, choosing to take in his appearance. Y/N can almost see the confusion written on her face. She peers sternly over her glasses to look at Remus. If he was nervous, he hid it well because his expression managed to stay unchanged and there was no trace of a lie. Her eyes scan him one last time before speaking, “You’re not supposed to be on rounds tonight.”

“I switched places last minute with another prefect. They weren’t feeling well.” Remus quickly adds on, “— you might know them? Calwald; sixth year Slytherin.”

“Ah, yes… I heard footsteps coming from here. Did you see anyone?”

Remus looks like he’s thinking quickly. “Yeah, just a first year Slytherin. I escorted them to their common room.”

Professor McGonagall’s unnerving gaze even made Y/N shudder. She tuts, her head drops in a small nod. She stands tall, “Very well then, goodnight Remus.”  

“Goodnight, Professor.”

The soft clicks of her heels started up again. McGonagall heads in the opposite direction of the Slytherin common room while Remus pretends to walk away before pressing himself against a wall, camouflaging with the shadows in case their teacher were to look back. The echoing became quieter until only a soft, almost inaudible clicking came from the distance. The glow from her candles was gone and darkness surrounded them again.

Y/N was made acutely aware of the other person’s hold around her waist once it slackens, pulling away from her. The heavy fabric is dragged off her body before she turns over to her attacker.

“Sirius?”

She jerks away as far as she could, angrily. Her fingers twitched momentarily.

“You almost ruined it,” he spits out cold and aggressively. His bluish-grey eyes stormed, ripples of angry waves rolling from them. From the proximity, she swore she could feel the venom dripping from him as she released a breath she didn’t know she was holding. "And you bit me!"

She should have bitten harder.

She hisses back, “Shut it! How was I supposed to know that you were sneaking around?”

“Pads!” James growls, yanking at Sirius’ shoulder, “Fucking leave her alone. You’ve done enough today.”

“You gits!” Remus scolds, making his way back to the secret passage. He remained calm, directing his next sentences to the boys. “It was a mistake, okay? Calm the fuck down or you two will get us caught.”

Sirius huffs out, childishly. “Whatever you say Moomy.”

“Ha. Ha.”

“What’s going on?” Y/N askes.

At this, Sirius calms down a bit before he looks at Y/N again, a strange expression settles on his face. James on the other hand is ecstatic, “Right! We’re setting up the last part of the plan right now. The itching spray!”

Oh!"

“Yeah. Wormy is already inside the Slytherin common room making sure the spiders and Dungbombs we put in there are working.”

“Did you say he’s inside their common room?”

At this, his smile grows, “Got their password by waiting outside their door and Polyjuice potion. Our dear Moony brewed it.” Remus’ face is smug, his chest puffed out.

“Holy shit! I didn’t know you took it this seriously. Couldn't you be expelled for this?!”

"Godric, maybe Remus needs to give you his prefect title."

“I’ll gladly give it to you — fuckin’ hate being one.” Remus jokes, “Nah, we’ll be fine as long as we don’t get caught.”

“We’ve got our goody-two-shoes over here. Everyone loves him, won’t suspect a thing.” James says. Her eyes are back on Remus, sweeping from his face then down to his shiny prefect badge.

“I’m their scapegoat.”

Sirius sighs impatiently before cutting in, “Alright, I’m sure you can go now. McGonagall is long gone.”

Everyone shoots him a look.

“Oi! No! Please join us!” James whines, “You’re already here and trust me it’ll be so fun!”

“He’s right, join us,” Remus says, “Besides, you suggested it and it’ll be safer and easier to cover our tracks.”

It sounded exciting and she did need a pick-me-up considering her wavering emotions lately. Although Sirius’ jaw clenched. He was scowling at her.

“I’d love to join you,” she says, looking Sirius in the eyes.

A silent whooping came from James who balled his fist, throwing them into the air in celebration. They huddled together just as Remus led them out of the passage and through the dark.

James, who shared qualities of a golden retriever, walked by her side, a pep in his step. "You get to see the action first-hand, excited?"

“Of course!”

James rambles on before his eyes gloss over. He’s unusually quiet. Simultaneously, he grabs her hand and stops abruptly, dragging her to the back of the group. He lends in to whisper, his eyes flicking momentarily to Sirius, “Why were you with him?”

“Who?” She whispers back.

“Regulus Black.”

“Oh, we were at the Slug Cl —” She cuts herself off as she realizes, her eyes widened before staring at him, “You were following me!?”

“No! No!” He says, bringing his hands up defensively, waving them around. "You were walking in the same direction as him! To the Slytherin common room! It wasn't on purpose!"

“I — how did you — I didn’t even see you!” She thought back to the crinkling noise, “Wait, we heard you!”

He sighs a bit as he pulls out a large fluid-like, shimmery, silvery cloak. Upclose, silver threads were woven onto it, patterns swirling into regal shapes. He handed her the cloak to feel. It was silky smooth and glittered prettily in the light. It looked similar to the reflection of stars in a lake at night.

“You’re not telling me this is a…” she gaped.

The boy was grinning from ear to ear as if it were sewn on his face permanently. In a way, it looked rather demonic. He looked as if his face were going to split into two. “You betcha! An invisibility cloak.”

Her mind finally caught up to her once again before thinking back to what James asked. “Why’d you want to know about Regulus?”

“Huh! E-erm… no reason.”

She punches him softly in the arm. “You lying bastard! You can’t be nosey and not tell me? He’s not… bad? Is he? I quite like him.”

“No he’s not… just —” James cuts himself off, fearing he might have said too much. He did not expect the conversation to turn in this direction. He quickly averts her attention to another topic. “The Slug Club?” He says loud enough so the entire group can hear, “How was it?”

She would make sure to push him on the topic later.

Meanwhile, Remus and Y/N groaned.

“Awful.”

“Dreadful.”

“Nosey git.”

“Happily annoying.”

“He must be an actual slug. He’s slimy and boring.”

“Merlin! It can’t be that bad!”

“Oh trust us,” Remus addresses, “It’s worse. The entire time he went on and on about stupid shit. Like what was it he said?” He looks at Y/N.

“Ugh, what?”

“When he went on about that kid— what was his name… Seán?”

“Ah! Wait,” she straightened up and mocked their professor. She fake coughs for dramatic effect. “Your aunt created the Capmisted potion! Ah yes, brilliant, brilliant! I wish I taught her when she was at Hogwarts. Say, you’re still close, right? Why don’t we invite her to come to one of these parties one day?”

Her painful attempt at a British accent made them laugh.

“What a fucking sleazy bloke,” Remus chokes out.

They continued to make their way down to the Slytherin common room. All four jumped at the sound of footsteps before Y/N felt the invisibility cloak being tossed over her body, along with the rest of the boys too. They waited until it passed before finally stopping at the dungeons.

The entrance to the common room was by a stretch of stone. The area was dimly lit, the ceiling was low and had an eerie look and feel to it. Plus the cold only made Y/N rub her hands up and down her arms, goosebumps left in their trail. A dripping sound encompassed them like a makeshift metronome.

It made her feel uneasy.

Peter, who was crouched and small, hid in the shadows and would’ve gone unseen had he not popped out and scared all of them.

“For fucks sake Wormtail! We thought you were a Slytherin earlier.”

Peter was gleeful. He donned a large smirk and his face was slightly red. The Polyjuice was almost completely worn off, however, Peter had a full head of black, thick hair. “I checked everything, the traps should be set to release at eight o’clock.”

“An hour long?”

“Needs time to travel around the room.”

“Positive?”

“Positive.”

“Now comes the fun part,” James nudges her.

“Oh, hi Y/N,” Peter says slightly confused.

“Hey, Pete, here to watch if you don’t mind.”

Peter takes a moment to look at the rest of the group, “More the merrier!”

“Alright, you geezas! Let's get this party started!” James announces. He digs through the side bag he was carrying, pulling out four pairs of dragonhide gloves and tosses them to the boys. “Sorry, haven’t got any for ya. Would’ve brought an extra if I knew you were comin’.”

“It's alright.”

“Okay,” Remus says before crouching down, a large bag on his side. “I’ll start attaching everything, you know what to do and be careful. Remember, do not touch your eyes.”

He looks up at her, “Y/N if you could, it would be helpful to be on the watch out.”

“Gladly.”

Remus unscrewed bottle after bottle, attaching nozzles on them while James helped him. Peter slid out a ladder that was concealed by magic in a slim nook. As he scaled it, Sirius held on tightly to it before he cast a charm to prevent it from sliding around.

Up high, concealed by darkness and magic, revealed hundreds of identical bottles before Remus sprang up, switching places with Peter as he attached the rest of the bottles onto a huge system.

It looked similar to a new-maj mechanical system. The components consisted of small wires, a timer, tape and string connected to them all, along with a small lever that was attached to the underside of a brick. With the aid of magic, they were all securely set into place and ready to be activated.

“What is that?” She turned to Peter.

“Moonys got the bottles up there programmed to spray every time certain people leave the common room. See, look,” he points to the almost non-existent glow on the wires.

She marvelled at their creation. It was large and must’ve spent hours trying to conduct it. Sirius and James were helping Remus by passing him the bottles and securing them to the top of the roof.

If only Lily was here to see this. She would have an aneurysm.

At one point, Peter had been passing the bottles up to Remus while Sirius and James fiddled around with extra dungbombs they had, scattering them around.

“Jeez, Moons, my arms feel like they’re on fire.”

Peter did look worn out before he panted out. His forehead was starting to glean from sweat.

“Why don’t I do it for now?” She says to him before looking up to Remus.

“Only if you want to.”

The two switched places and Peter handed her his gloves. She slipped them on before enchanting them to fit snugly around her hands. Bending down, she picked up a few bottles. They were unexpectedly very heavy. She understood why Peter had to take a break. Although Remus seemed to be fine. Compared to his slim look, Remus had an unusual amount of strength that surprised her.

They worked in phases. Every ten or so minutes, Peter and Y/N would switch positions. They all worked in silence. From time to time, Peter and her would crack a joke, causing Remus to overhear and chuckle himself.

Everyone was having a good time. Even Sirius perked up, being less hostile to the entire group and even her. She thought she was dreaming for a split second.

The group worked quickly and managed to attach all of the bottles along with Dungbombs with only a few interruptions from incoming students. Luckily, they had the cloak to cover themselves and their things.

By the time they were finished, it was past one in the morning. They all huddled together underneath the cloak. Unfortunately, it was only medium-sized and unable to fully cover everyone from sight. Sirius and Y/N, who were on the edge on opposite sides, their arms and legs would poke out. More than once, it became very uncomfortable and hard to squish everyone inside as they flattened themselves against a wall anytime they heard even the slightest of movements. They kept impossibly silent, aside from James who’d been elated; constantly making small jokes or making sound effects with his mouth. Remus had to flick him a few times to keep quiet.

As soon as they reached the Gryffindor tower, they removed the cloak.

“Gastropod!” Cheered Peter to the fat lady. She swung open for the five of them. The warmth of the fireplace crackled as they threw themselves on the sofas. They all tried to catch their breaths and still their pounding heartbeats.

Pure adrenaline pumped through her veins as she took a moment to take in what just happened.

James was grinning from ear to ear, Peter seemed cheerful, Sirius became somewhat tolerable, while Remus, as always, seemed tired.

Remus, covering his mouth in a half yawn muttered out, “It was fun having you here but I’m knackered. I’ll see you lot at breakfast. Night.”

“Me too,” Peter said. Sirius got up to followed them as they made their way up to the boy’s dorms.

James stayed with Y/N for a bit afterwards. Both were giddy and they even ate a few snacks she still had in her pockets.

“Wasn’t that fun!” he said, “Godric, you need to join more often.”

“I’ll think about it,” Y/N says playfully.

“I’m going to train you — gonna make you into a mini-me. My apprentice.”

“I think the world has enough of your arrogance.”

He laughed unbothered by the remark, “This is only the beginning. Just you wait.”

[lakesandquarries]

Tangled Up - Chapter Two

oh, i’m gonna mess this up

Benrey’s spent 26 years living in a tower - 27, tomorrow. When a thief breaks into his tower, he finds his chance to escape and takes it.

Alternatively: Tangled, but the AI is self aware.

(featuring art by @kenas-artstuff​ )

Notes: check ao3 for warnings and tags! “kane radio” is just gordon using a fake name. fic title from “tangled up” by caro emerald, chapter title from “shots” by imagine dragons.

AO3 Link

It’s nice to be back at Black Mesa. Well, mostly nice. Gordon shuts the door behind Benrey only to immediately spot a wanted poster, the only thing making it unrecognizable a bizarre mullet. Do people seriously think he looks like that??

“Hey, Mr. Radio!” a voice calls from behind the counter. Kane rips the paper off the door, rushing across the room. 

“Hi Darnold it’s great to see you shut the fuck up please -”

And that’s when he gets grabbed from behind. He barely sees Darnold’s eyes widen before he’s spun around, now facing an absolute mountain of a man. Behind him, he hears Darnold slap something - his forehead, probably - and mutter a quiet. “oh, right.”

He loves Darnold, he really does. Being friends with someone since you were kids will do that. Right now, though, he kind of wants to throttle him.

“Kane Radio, hm?” the main holding him says, ripping the wanted poster out of his hands. The thief glances around awkwardly, his eyes finally falling onto Benrey struggling to pull his hair back into his possession. 

"H-hey, he'd appreciate his hair not being touched, guys!", Kane exclaimed, to help his partner as well as pull away from his attention. It works for a moment, as Benrey tugs the last strands of hair away and marches up to the guy holding Kane, unintimidated despite the height difference.

“Hey,” Benrey says quietly as he walks up next to the man. “Put him down? Please and thank you?”

Mountain man snorts. “Not likely. I need the reward money. Hey, you! Go get the guards!”

One of the other men nods, slipping out of the tavern as an argument breaks out. Kane is pushed and pulled, various thugs grabbing him and insisting they need the money, they deserve it most, as the bar descends into chaos.

A loud, meaty thwack! breaks up the argument. Kane’s dropped on his ass, and when he looks up, Benrey has his crowbar against Mountain man’s arm. “I said put him down.”

Kane rolls off to the side, dodging another man’s grabbing hands, and stands up so he can dart back over to Benrey and push him out of the way. “Hey, appreciate that, don’t get me wrong, but - Benrey, what the fuck?”

Behind the counter Darnold is glaring, grabbing a cup and a spoon to try and get everyone’s attention. Black Mesa housed a fighting ring once upon a time, but that got stopped when Darnold took over. It doesn’t matter now - even with Darnold yelling, everyone’s too riled up. Kane has to duck down to avoid a punch, only to immediately get kicked in the face. A hand grabs his arm and he swings instinctively, stopping at the last second when he realizes it’s just Benrey, pulling him off to the side.

“What the fuck,” Kane repeats.

“Being polite didn’t work,” is Benrey’s only explanation.

Darnold is still yelling, trying desperately to get some sense of calm as the crowd beats the shit out of each other. And then - just as quick as it started, it’s over. Screams dissolve into laughter as the assembled patrons dust themselves off, seemingly satisfied with the amount of violence they've had. 

"It's been too long since we've had a fight like that," Mountain man says. "Nice job."

Benrey blinks up at him. "Whuh?"

Gordon agrees with him. Wiping blood from his nose, he mutters a quiet “What?” as well.

“Should’ve been longer,” Darnold complains. “You know I hate this kind of behavior! I have half a mind to throw you all out.”

"We'll clean it up, Danny, don't worry,” another, very skinny guy cheerfully responds, followed by a roar of laughter.

“Darnold,” the bartender corrects sharply as he sets to cleaning the place up, picking up overturned chairs and mopping up spills and sweeping up broken glass. 

Turning back to Mountain man, Kane asks, "Just to be clear. Does this mean you won't tear me and my friend apart anymore?"

“Are you kidding? That’s the most fun I’ve had in years! Darnold never lets us do stuff like that. Real shame, considering how this place st -“

He’s cut off by someone slamming the door open. “I brought the guards!”

Apparently ten seconds of peace is the max he’s allowed. “Shit shit shit,” Kane wheezes, grabbing Benrey’s arm as Darnold directs them behind the door. The massive dog from earlier, the one who had chased him through the forest and up Benrey’s tower, is here. And it’s pissed. Kane’s heart drops as he watches it sniff around, following the trail of his footsteps.

Darnold pulls on a lever, revealing a ramp down into a stone tunnel. “You’re lucky you’re my friend,” he says as he ushers them through it. Benrey hesitates, but Kane pulls him through anyway, into some kind of cave system. The walls are dark stone, rough and natural. This is something old, and hopefully, it’ll cover them. 

He exhales slowly, adrenaline still rushing through him. “Shit,” he mutters again. “That was close.”

“Who were those guys?” Benrey asks. The raccoon on his shoulder chirps.

“Guards. Royal guards. They, uh….they don’t like me much.”

“You stole something?” 

“Big something.”

Benrey nods, apparently satisfied with the answer. The raccoon chirps again, and Benrey mumbles something in response to it. Because his day is just going so normally, he needs to listen to his weird...escort mission talk to his fucking raccoon as they run from guards.

Metal clanks behind them, and Kane picks up the pace, until he’s running down the tunnel. It opens into a cliffside, with no way down. “Fuck!”

“There’s a guy down there,” Benrey points out, and Kane bites back another string of curses when he realizes it’s fucking Forzen. He’d abandoned him after stealing the royal helmet. Betrayal’s nothing new between them, but this is recent enough that Forzen’s probably still pissed.

“That’s Forzen. He doesn’t like me much either.”

It’s then that the guards burst out of the tunnel and several things happen all at once. Benrey shoves his crowbar at Kane, and before he can question why Benrey is giving him his only weapon, he’s tossing his hair across the canyon like a grappling hook and running off the ledge.

Before he can even ask why Benrey would possibly give him his only weapon, he watches in horror as his partner takes flight. He doesn’t have time to check if Benrey’s alright - the guards are on his ass. The crowbar makes a satisfying thwack! as he swings it, taking down the guards in barely an instant. “Fuck, this is handy. Need to get me one of these!” Kane comments to himself, looking to see who’s left. One opponent remains - the dog, who is now holding a sword.

Because his day just cannot get any fucking weirder.

“You should know this is the weirdest thing I have ever fucking done!” Kane yells to Benrey, as he battles the dog, sword to crowbar, until the dog knocks it right out of his hands and down the cliff. “Two out of three?”

A lock of black hair wraps around his hand. Kane grins, giving the dog a salute as he’s pulled into a free fall. “Ha! Get fuc - hhhh.” His words dissolve into a wheeze, as his trajectory slams him into an exposed beam, knocking the wind out of him.

Kane, struggling to get a grip of himself, only just manages to hold on to Benrey while he swings down with his support. His feet connect with the water pipes, sliding down unsteadily as they collapse underneath him, and then the entire dam breaks. It happens in a flash, an enormous amount of water - it feels like the whole ocean when Kane glances back - pouring down into the valley. Rocks fall, the last of the wooden constructions collapsing. With a couple of leaps, Kane reaches an already running Benrey, and scoops up the last bit of his hair flailing behind him. "Benrey! Benrey, into the cave!" he shouts, hoping the other would get understand the general direction they have to run.

---

Benrey grabs the crowbar as he darts after Kane, barely avoiding getting crushed by the massive rock that comes crashing down and seals them into the cave. The walls are stone, not like the bricks of his tower but a random arrangement of rocks and boulders forming a lumpy wall. There’s a puddle of water on the floor, only as he looks it starts to grow, up over Benrey’s feet, his legs, creeping higher and higher. He looks around the cave frantically, spotting the trickles of water coming in past the rock that sealed them in. The only obvious opening, but the water is like another force behind it, pressing it shut like Benrey used to try and hold his door shut. The rock is stronger than him. No matter how hard he slams with his crowbar, there’s not even a dent. He turns his attention to the rest of the cave, alternately smashing and prying at the walls, but they hold firm. There’s nothing. Not a single loose rock, nothing resembling a weak point, not even a crack he can widen into an exit. 

The water’s at his waist now. His breathing sharpens, small panicked inhales as he realizes there’s no way out. They’re trapped, with water climbing higher and higher. The water is murky, making the already dim space feel smaller and darker with each second. 

Zeki was right. Kane’s gonna die here with him in this stupid fucking cave, all because Benrey wanted to see some lights.

“This is all my fault,” he mumbles, tugging on a strand of hair. “I never should’ve - she was right, this whole time, I just -“ 

Kane’s hands grip his shoulders, firm but gentle, forcing him to look at the thief’s face. "Benrey, don't blame yourself. Sometimes things go bad...that's how life works. It's - it's gonna be ok." In a different context it might be comforting. Right now, they’re about to die, and Kane’s voice is shaking.

Benrey’s voice is choked when he responds. “I’m sorry, Kane.”

"Gordon.” Benrey tilts his head, and Kane drops his hands from his shoulders with a sigh. “It's - my real name is Gordon Freeman. I made up Kane. You might as well know it now."

“Feetman?” Benrey asks with a shaky smile.

“If we weren’t trapped in a cave I’d hit you with your crowbar,” Kane - Gordon? - Gordon says. For the briefest of seconds, he smiles at Benrey. 

“I, uh. I have magic hair that glows when I sing,” he says. Keeping a secret doesn’t matter when they’re both about to die. Gordon furrows his brows, looking questioningly at Benrey, and a sudden burst of inspiration hits as he repeats himself. “I have - oh shit!” He starts singing, voice shakier than normal as he races through the song. “Flower gleam and glow, let your power shine -“ The water is still rising, and maybe it’s his imagination but it feels even faster. “Make the clock reverse, bring back what once was mine -”

The last line gets cut off as the water fills the cave completely. He’s never tried singing underwater before, and for a moment he’s terrified it won’t work - and then his hair lights up, a bright neon teal, illuminating the cave. Gordon swims down to the bottom, pushing aside rocks desperately. He finds one that’s loose enough, dislodging it, and the rest follow suit. The wall starts to crumble before collapsing completely, launching the two of them into a river, the current quickly sweeping them downstream and onto a grassy bank. 

Benrey drags himself out, flopping limply onto the grass, taking deep breaths as he stares up at the sky. “We’re alive,” he breathes, looking over at Gordon. He likes that name better, now that he has a spare moment to think about it. Laughter bubbles up out of him, along with bright yellow-green. Olive means I’m glad to be alive.

Beside him, Gordon is less chill, elbows on the grass and hands in his hair. “His hair glows,” he’s mumbling. “He - hhh - his hair? Glowing - glowy shit - people don’t glow!” From there his words just get more and more incoherent as he stares at the ground.

With a huff, Benrey stands up, starting to squeeze the water out of his hair. Jefferem shakes himself dry, splashing water onto Gordon. “You good?” Benrey asks.

“Am I - are you good?? What the fuck was that? How long have you been - ow, fuck -” He pulls his right hand close to himself, and when he holds it out again Benrey sees blood, bright red against the brown skin. He must’ve cut himself on a rock or something. 

Benrey offers a hand to help Gordon get up, so he doesn’t put pressure on the injured one. “Lets, uh. Find somewhere to dry off first and then we can play 20 questions?” Or, maybe, if he stalls long enough, Gordon will forget whatever he wants to ask and Benrey can keep pretending like he’s a person.

[datawyrms]

Changed Hunt

For Phic Phight 2021! (not completely finished but AAAAfinshnowwww) lowkey Dannymay Day 2 Portal, as well

"That portal is awesome!" Sam says. "Would be so cool if it worked."

Danny goes down into the lab that night to try a few things—it doesn't quite go as he planned.(aka a no one knows au) (Dey’s prompt!)

Danny really wished Sam and Tucker had stayed a bit longer that day. With them around, maybe he wouldn’t have wandered in that portal like an idiot. In his own defense, how could he have known that little panel in there had been an on switch? Who’d put that inside a reality tearing portal device? Jack and Maddie Fenton, apparently. He was just lucky the thing hadn’t killed him! Or at least, managed to overdo it to the point he...survived somehow? He hadn’t really decided what that portal had done exactly. Waking in a pained heap, bathed in a haunting green glow from the now active portal was confusing enough. Looking up and seeing a stranger in the reflective panel nearby just made it worse. Of course he didn’t take it well, or know what to think. If he’d become a ghost, his parents would freak. Fixing their portal by turning into some...evil human hating creature probably wasn't in the plan. At least his terror somehow managed to get him to become human again. Heartbeat and everything. He hoped it had just been a weird one off, or he’d imagined it from trauma. Until he started falling through things. He died so hard  that he got his life back? The portal only managed to kill half of him? He was dead but ‘imitating humans’ was his specialty? Some human that just got to use his ‘soul’ or whatever to be a ghost early? Sam and Tucker might have had guesses- but he knew one thing right away. Whatever happened, he wasn’t all human anymore. He couldn’t tell them. What if they decided that was just too weird? What if they blamed themselves for not being there- thought they’d killed him? It wasn’t worth the risk. Besides, he couldn’t let Mom and Dad find out, so he’d be trying to hide any of the new weirdness anyway. Might as well just always do it. Maybe the weird new abilities would just go away. They hadn’t. They just forced him to think about it to keep both feet on the ground. He could deal.

Until other ghosts started showing up. Ghosts that actually knew how to be ghosts, terrifying powers and all. Ghosts that seemed to know what he was. He’d nearly jumped out of his skin when a green woman in a hairnet tapped him on the shoulder and asked who ‘changed the menu’. There was a lot of screaming and running away at that, considering she was floating and well. Obviously some sort of dead person. Freaky Fenton attracts freaky ghosts. Of course. She didn’t buy his claim of not knowing why the menu wasn’t exactly the same as fifty years ago (why would he? That’s a lot of years!) and thought setting ovens on fire and throwing them at him was a fair answer! So apparently Mom and Dad were totally right about ghosts being completely terrifying monsters that he should run away from very quickly. Which he did. He only ran into two walls he meant to go through, even. Just more reasons to never, ever tell anyone he might be like that crazed ghost lady. Mom and Dad proving their inventions actually did work sometimes was just icing on the ‘i’m so screwed’ cake. Ghosts exist, they fought one, and the school got shuttered for a week from excessive damage via flying appliance. Fun.

It was dumb to pretend that was a one off thing. It was stupid to think he could keep hiding what happened that day. Even if it felt safer, even if he just wanted to keep denying the portal was open so she could keep pretending it hadn’t done anything to him. Maybe if someone knew, he wouldn’t be hopelessly trapped by a huge glowing robot. Running didn’t work on this one like it did the older ghost lady. He tried, he really did, but the self proclaimed hunter kept tracking him down. Even when he transformed into the strange ghost version of himself he failed to dissuade the robot. Punching metal still hurt as a ghost, and so did getting pelted with little missiles. So much for intangibility being an advantage.

“You’re lucky that you’re a rare creature, whelp. Otherwise I’d be disappointed by how little effort hunting you took.”

Great, flame head thought he was a disappointing freak. More pressing was the net the ghost had shot at him that he couldn’t struggle free of. Even drawing on his weird ghost side wouldn’t let him phase through it. “Pretty sure you can’t hunt endangered species!” He redoubled his effort as the ghost picked up the net, trying to trick himself that his swinging was making him feel ill, not the terror of being carried off by some monster that came through the portal just to hunt him down.

“Hah! If I didn’t take you ghost child, someone else would simply end you.” The blank green eyes stared into his own as the machine pulled him up higher. “You should be grateful to be part of my collection.”

Danny gulped, unsure if he should keep his attention on his captor or the fact they were getting closer to the swirling portal. “How about no thanks? Since you’re such a good samaritan and all. You can just let me go and forget all about uh...this.” Why couldn’t he just squeeze out of the net, or make the rest of him all weird like when his legs decided to vanish sometimes? Pulling with his gloved hands wasn’t working, and the glow just grew  brighter as the lump in his throat got thicker. “Please? You already said I was weak, if you let me go I’ll be stronger next time!” Okay, it was a stupid plea but he’d try anything right now to not get dragged to some ghost world.

“I’m not a catch and release sort of hunter.” The ghost chuckled as his prey shrank back with the denial.

“How can you be the ‘Greatest’ hunter if you just go after kids, huh?” Begging wasn’t working, so maybe getting him angry? He couldn’t go through there, what if being on the other side made him more like this thing, or the other weird green monsters? “More like lamest hunter.”

“Oh you’ll see the sort of creatures I normally hunt, ghost child. Once you join them.” Skulker shook the net hard, rattling what little bravado Danny had managed to gather up right back out of him.

So much for that hope. “This has got to be a mistake, just let me go!” The ghost didn’t answer him, and he couldn’t help closing his eyes when the mechanical monster fired up a jetpack and flew through that portal. It wasn’t as cold as he feared it would be, it wasn’t like the void of space. Just as green as the portal, still a swirling background to everything. He swore he saw faces and doors, but couldn’t keep looking for long. The combined movement of being dragged along with the spinning energy was stomach churning enough, and he had to deal with the fact he didn’t know anything about this place. Even if this ghost decided to let him go, where would he go? Was there even anything to navigate with? He certainly didn’t see anything useful like stars. Would all this green stuff just soak into him and make him not want to find home? Nothing here made sense! It was easier to curl up instead of struggling with the net to stretch out, and the stupid ghost couldn’t see how the tears welled in his eyes as he struggled not to cry.

He should have been braver, should have tried to watch more, but it’d been too much. The crunch of metal against stone jarred him out of his silent self berating, just to be even more confused. He was on an island? That just floated, because islands did that here. Islands that had forests on them, that grew out of what looked like rock. Sure, okay. At least it was a bit of a distraction from the fact he was trapped by some evil robot in a completely different reality! Well. It had been. Seeing the fact the ghost lived in some weird stone skull jutting out of a mountain made him snort despite himself.

“You said my puns were bad, and you live in that thing?” He was pretty sure the green mohawk monster was Skull-something anyway. Mostly tuned it out after he kept repeating the ‘greatest hunter’ bit. “Ghost Zone’s Greatest Halloween Decoration’s a more fitting title.”

“For a terrified whelp, you are very chatty.”

“I think I looped around from terrified when I saw how doomed I am.” He was just joking. Totally. He wasn’t goofing around to try and fend off the engulfing panic of never getting home, nope. Absolutely not. He tried to pay attention to the strange ‘skull mountain house thing’, but the fact it reminded him more like a zoo inside wasn’t helping. Massive, monstrous glowing ghosts leering out and snapping as they passed, smaller sorts that didn’t even look up and several empty cages stained green was not calming his nerves. He couldn’t even describe some ghosts, being such a confusing jumble of parts that didn’t remind him of anything. All he could tell was robo-hunter probably didn’t have any willing guests. Unwilling guests that looked far, far more powerful than anything he could dream of trying. He was so, so doomed. To the point that being tossed roughly in a similar cage was almost a relief so he wasn’t right beside the ghost anymore.

First task was struggling free of the no longer glowing net (deactivated somehow? weird.) which wasn’t too hard, but just left him in his freaky ghost form, in a cage, in the middle of who knew where. The Ghost Zone, that’s what they kept calling it. Not Earth. Fantastic! That’s enough to get a C-, but not enough to get him out of this cage. Reaching through the bars was out, the unexpected shock had him rubbing his hand and grumbling to how having some invisible field between the bars was just unfair. At least let him see it before hurting him more. Now what? Grasping that feeling that let him walk through walls wasn’t letting him through the cage floor, just like how the net wouldn’t let him out.  Floating just reminded him of getting dragged here. So that was it. Why did he have to get stupid dying powers? They didn’t even do anything useful!

Stressing out and not finding a way out was an exhausting way to spend a few hours. He kept thinking of new problems, like he didn’t have enough already. When the robot wandered past, he almost grabbed the bars to get closer. “Hey! Screw head!”

The ghost actually looked at him, the stern face looking more confused than anything.

“Yeah you! You know I’m gonna like, starve to death in here, right?” Danny had no idea how he was managing to say something he was very terrified of coming true like it was a joke. “Kind of a waste, don’t ya think?”

“You will be fine, ghost child. Your pleas for freedom won’t fool me.”

“Wanna bet? Maybe we’re so rare because we all starve to death in this dumb ghost world or whatever.” That and there probably weren’t too many people dumb enough to get shocked to...sort of death. “That and like, you’re some freaky machine man, you probably don’t know anything about eating to start with.”

Skulker kept staring at him, as if doing that would suddenly reveal all his secrets. “Well I prefer live specimens, but I suppose I could always do with another rug.”

Oh gross! “Seriously? Do I look like rug material to you?”

“Wall art?”

Yup, he was gagging now. The very idea a ghost would want to do that just made his spine want to shake right out of him with disgust. “I’d be way out of place, all of the other ghosts here look like animals! You’ll just gross all your hunter buddies out.” Maybe if he pretended to be some know it all like Jazz the ghost would...reconsider making him into wall art? Uurk. What was his life that he even needed to think that?

At least that got the metal monster pondering, massive hand scratching at his chin. “I do wonder if your pelt would only show half of your nature.”

“How about we don’t test that and say we did.” He’d seen some of the knives on the way in and did not want any of them near him thank you very much. Not that he had much of a choice- oh man he really, really did not want to learn why Sam hated the fur industry this way. “Pretty sure I’d just die. More. Or something.”

“Oh, but you’ve seen the other pelts on the way in. They’ve still got enough of a spark to not melt to nothing ghost child. I’m not that sloppy.”

Oh so he could be barely aware wall art. Even better!  What would he do, skin him alive or just crush him? Both? “Humans don’t melt.” It was all he could think of blathering out. Don’t think about what the terrifying ghost guy can do Fenton, just don’t.

“True...unfortunately I don’t have another subject to test on.”

Score one for being a unique sort of freaky ghost kid. Maybe. “Soooo how about you just bring me back and rethink the whole uh. Hunting me thing.”

That just got Skulker laughing. “Not a chance whelp.”

“I’m not a whelp! I don’t even fit in with all your monster-things!” It had annoyed him, really. The other ghosts didn’t really...talk? “I’m not some animal!” 

More chuckling, as if amused by a puppy chasing its tail. “Of course you are, with that stench of the human world on you.”

“You think I smell. With what nose, metalhead?”

“None of your business. Not to fear, any ghost here can tell you’re a hybrid. That human body you insist on wearing can be felt even when you’re in a superior form.”

Oh, was this a ghosts thinking humans were animals thing? Or was this a ghosts are kinda racist to different ghosts thing. Was there a difference? He probably should have paid more attention in civics. “Yeah well that ‘human body’ needs food.” He wasn’t even going to touch the idea that he was ‘wearing’ his own body, eeeeugh.

“I’ll figure out a solution to your hybrid failings, child. I won’t let a prize go that easily.”

Greeeeeeat.

[wiypt-writes]

Stark Spangled Banner

Ch46: Just A Formality

Intro: Emmy gets into a spot of trouble at school, which leads the family to make a joint decision that will change their lives forever. And together with their friends they celebrate Jamie’s birthday, will a little surprise for Emmy too. 

Warnings: Bad Language words. Slight angst (teenagers) and Steve being a very overprotective dad…

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

A/N: Yeah, I love this chapter. I hope you all do too. And thank @angrybirdcr​ for the edit...it mushed my insides!

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Chapter 45

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist // Main Masterlist

 February 2021

“So what do you think?” Rhodey asked as he stood, arms folded, looking at the screen. Natasha was stood next to him, nervously chewing on her nail and Steve was looking at the rather gory photos that they had been sent through from the Mexican Authorities.

“Is it definitely him?” Steve sighed, looking at the screen again. In a million years he would never have expected Barton to be capable of such out and out gore and violence, but then again the man had lost his entire family- wife and three kids. Steve wasn’t sure how he would react should anything happen to Katie, Emmy or Jamie.

“Yeah.” Nat sighed, pressing another button. This time it flipped to some CCTV footage of the incident. They three of them watched as Clint took down six gang members, brutally, and with a final swipe of the samurai sword he was holding almost severed one man’s head completely from its shoulders. “Same MO, same fight pattern, and the facial recognition software caught him about five miles north of this town less than two hours before this happened.” “He’s getting more and more vicious.” Rhodey spoke. “I suppose we should be grateful in a way he’s taking down people that we should be stopping but how long till someone gets caught in the cross fire?” “Clint wouldn’t-” Natasha began but Steve cut her off.

“Once I would agree with you.” he sighed, looking at her “But now, well, Nat, he’s…” “Lost it.” Rhodey concluded

“So would you if you’d seen your wife and kids turn to dust.” Nat’s voice was fierce as she turned to look at him.

“I know.” Rhodey held his hands up “I can’t even imagine what he went through.”

Steve looked at Nat, recognising the pensive look on her face. “What you thinking?”

She took a deep breath. “I’m gonna fly out to Mexico. Rhodey, can you come with me? We’ll see if we can dig anything up?” Rhodey nodded. Steve was about to offer his services too, but then his phone started ringing.

“Hey beautiful.” He greeted Katie, but instead of the usual response of either hello handsome or soldier, he was met with an exasperated sigh.

“Emmy’s Principal has just called me.” She groaned “She’s been in a fight.”

Steve frowned. “Really? What for?” “No idea. He didn’t say much other than he’s excluding her for a week and wants us to go collect her as soon as we can. Thing is, I have a call in twenty with the Health Authorities, President Ellis has asked me to give them some guidance on how we regrouped at SI, and I can try and rearrange but if I can’t it means she’s gonna be sat outside the office for at least an hour and a half. Is there any chance you-”

“I got, course I’ll go. I’m done here anyway so you do what you need to do and we’ll see you at home.”

“Thank you.” She sighed “Between this and Jamie screaming blue murder when I dropped him in at the Day Care this morning It hasn’t really been the spectacular return to work I was hoping for.”

Steve wrinkled his nose. “He didn’t take it well then?” “No.” Her voice cracked “God, Steve, Leaving him there whilst he was screaming, fuck, it broke my heart.” Steve took a sigh and walked a little further away from Rhodey and Natasha, dropping his voice. “Honey, he’ll be fine. You know what he’s like. Ten minutes after you left he will have forgotten why he’s so upset and will have settled.”

“I know, I just, well Mom and Dad used to palm me and Tony off on our Nannies all the time and-”

“This is completely different.” Steve cut her off. “First off, you’re leaving him for what, five hours a day, maximum. Second off, he’s being watched at a crèche, twenty floors down from where you are, in the same building so you can see him whenever you want.”

“I was advised by the Staff not to do that today.” She sniffed. “It could unsettle him more.”

“I’m sure they know what they’re talking about.” Steve soothed her gently “Look, try not to worry. Jamie will be fine, I’ll go sort Emmy out and we’ll see you at home this evening okay?” “My hero.” she said and Steve smiled.

“Love you, see you later.”

Cutting the call he turned to Rhodey and Nat who were still looking at the screen. Walking back towards them he picked up his jacket where he had tossed it over the back of a chair, reaching for his keys at the same time.

“Guys, I gotta go.” He informed them and they looked up. “Emmy’s in trouble at school and I need to head in and see the Principal.”

“Trouble?” Nat frowned.

“Fighting.” Steve rolled his eyes as Nat and Rhodey exchanged a glance, Nat smirking slightly. Steve gave an exasperated sigh. “What?”

“Nothing.” Nat grinned. “Just don’t punch the Principal in the face…”

*****

It took Steve little over thirty minutes to reach the school. He may have broken a few speeding laws on the way, but Katie was right, it was too easy to do in the Camero. To be honest, it was pretty easy to do in the new Audi they had bought just before Christmas too, but Katie had that as it was easier to get Jamie’s seat and stroller in. The Camero was not child friendly, at all, but she had insisted on keeping it as a second car, despite Steve’s protests that they didn’t need it.

With an easy tug he pulled open the doors to the reception of the school and strode inside. The woman behind the desk handed him a visitor’s pass and led him down to the office as he brushed a piece of fluff off the front of his long sleeved blue top. Steve followed the white haired lady through the corridors in silence until he reached the office and spotted Emmy was sat outside it, slumped in a chair. At the sight of her father she jumped up and ran into his arms, crying.

“Hey,” He looked down as he smoothed her dark, ebony hair out of her face, cupping her face gently in one large hand. “What’s going on, Em?” “He started it.” She sniffed. “He was saying things, about you and mom and that my birth parents and that…that…”

She was starting to have a panic attack, Steve could see that instantly. She’d suffered from them a lot when she had first started to live with them and he knew that if he didn’t help her get it under control now it would escalate.

“Deep breaths.” He spoke gently, steering her back to a chair. She sat down and he tilted her head with his hand so that she was looking at him. “Count to ten, just like we practiced ok?”

She gripped onto his forearms, her eyes screwing shut as she took deep inhales and exhales, counting along as she did. By the time she got to seven she’d managed to ground herself again, and Steve encouraged her for the remaining three numbers, them just reaching ten as the door to the office at the end of the corridor opened.

“Mr Rogers.”

 Steve stood up to greet the Principal, John Stevenson, who he had met once before when they had enrolled Emmy into the school. He was a tall, lean man with round glasses and a kind face, but an air of authority perfect for that of a headmaster “Mr Stevenson.” Steve smiled, shaking his hand “I don’t mean to be rude, but could you give me a second with my daughter please? I want to hear her side of the story and then I’ll be right with you.”

“Of course,” the man nodded, giving him and Emmy a little smile. “Just come in when you’re ready.”

Once the door to his office was shut, Steve sat on the spare seat next to Emmy. “So you wanna tell me what happened. Who ya been fightin’ with?”

“A boy a grade above. And I wasn’t fighting. Not really, I mean I hit him but he fell over, he didn’t hit me back.” Steve bit his lip. “Seems the stuff your mom and Auntie Nat taught you came in handy, huh?”

Emmy shrugged.

“What did you hit him for?”

“Because he’s a jerk and a bully” Emmy’s hands were wringing together. “He was picking on a few of the kids who lost their parents all through last year and then last month when I told him to shut up, he decided to start on me”

Steve took a deep breath “What was he saying?”

“The usual, stuff like ‘you don’t have a real family’, said that you and mom only look after me because you feel guilty that the Avengers fucked, sorry, messed up.” She glanced up at Steve, but he merely arched an eyebrow, letting the curse word slide. “And he says that once I’m old enough you’ll throw me out, and then he called me a, and I quote ‘fucking orphan rat’.” She shrugged. “Sso I punched him.”

“Alright.” Steve took a deep breath, his jaw ticking as he supressed the feeling of annoyance and anger that had flooded his system at Emmy’s explanation. “We’ll unpack all that when we get home, with your mom.”

“Are you mad?” Emmy blinked up at him, her eyes wide.

“Well, punching him probably wasn’t the best way to deal with the situation.” Steve sighed, and instantly his wife’s voice popped into his head at how hypocritical he felt. 

“Hello Kettle, this is Steve Rogers, you’re black…”

“But if what you’re telling me is true-“   “It is Dad I swear!”

“Then no, I’m not mad. At you.” He gave her a small smile. “But I’m mad as hell he said those horrible things to you though.” He looked at Emmy as she smiled softly. “Now, I best go speak to your principal. I won’t be long, and then we’ll go home and talk properly okay?”

She nodded and Steve dropped a kiss to her head as he stood up and walked to the door. Rapping on it twice, he pulled it open and stepped inside the room, shutting it behind him. Principal Stevenson stood up, shook his hand before gesturing down at the chairs on the opposite side of his desk.

“So did she tell you what happened?” The man asked, leaning back slightly in his chair.

Steve nodded. “She said that a boy, I didn’t get his name…” “Josh Gemmil.” “Yes, well, she told me that this Josh had been picking on a few kids and when he started on her, she didn’t take kindly to it. And to be frank, I can’t say I blame her. The things he was saying to Emmy were disgusting.” “Yeah, and that may be the case.” Mr Stevenson sighed heavily, “but the issue is, Mr Rogers, we have a strict zero tolerance to violence policy, so, given Emmy did punch him in front of pretty much the entire school in the yard, I’ve no alternative but to suspend her for a week.” “Are you suspending him?” Steve asked.

“Sorry?” The man opposite Steve frowned. “I’m not…” “The boy who Emmy punched. Are you suspending him for what he said?”

“No-one has corroborated her story, well, other than Brooke and I know how close they are so she could be-” “Woah, hold up.” Steve interrupted, holding his hand up to cut that man off as a flash of anger surged through his chest. “Are you insinuating Emmy is lying?” “No, that’s not what I’m saying.” “So if she’s telling the truth, then surely the boy deserves punishment as well. Emmy isn’t the only person he’s been saying things to.”

“She’s the only person who has punched him.” “That may be, but either way-.”

“Mr Rogers,” the Principal sighed, cutting him off,  “for what it’s worth Josh’s parents will be coming in later and I will be consulting them about his behaviour, but unfortunately Emmy has broken his nose.” “Well, I’d like to say I’m sorry about that but I’m not.” Steve was too far gone now to be rational, his instinct to protect his daughter had well and truly kicked in and the guy in front of him was really pissing him off. “I don’t like bullies,” he continued, levelling the man with a look and he visibly recoiled back into his seat, “and I’m not gonna punish my daughter for standing up to one. If you deem it fit to suspend her then fine, that is your prerogative, and of course I will tell her that violence is not acceptable, but I would expect some level of punishment to be extended to the boy in question and not just her.”

The Principal nodded. “Mr Rogers, I can assure you, if it was up to me I wouldn’t be suspending her at all, but my hands are tied by the governors and policies. I make an exception here, I have to do it for others and before you know it…” he trailed off. Steve took a deep breath, he could understand that perfectly, didn’t make it any easier for him to swallow though. “But that’s why the suspension is only for a week and not the two.”

Steve nodded. “Okay, do I need to sign anything or…”

“No.” the Principal shook his head. “Emmy has her log on to Workspace, her class notes and homework will be detailed on there as usual so she doesn’t miss out. If there is anything she doesn’t understand or needs help with, she can catch up when she gets back. She’s a very, smart kid so I’m not too concerned about that aspect of things.” Steve nodded, and stood up. He took a deep breath and stepped back into the corridor to find Brooke was sat with Emmy now, her arm round her best friend.

“Shouldn’t you be in class?” Steve asked, shooting the red head a look.

“Hey Mr R, don’t sweat it. Told em I was going to the bathroom.” Brooke shrugged and Steve rolled his eys.

“Well scoot before you get into trouble too.” He gestured with his head to the doors that led back to the reception area.

“Can Brooke come over later?” Emmy asked, timidly, “Or am I grounded?”

Steve took a deep breath “Not tonight, we need to have a chat. But over the weekend then, sure.” “’kay.” Emmy nodded, standing up. She reached for her rucksack but Steve took it from her, carrying it in his right hand, his left gently between Emmy’s shoulder blades as he steered her towards the exit. As they walked into the reception, Emmy stopped dead and he heard Brooke who was walking along at his other side mutter an ‘uh-oh’.

“This her?” A short, squat woman with a very short hair cut was stood a few feet in front of him, a boy by her side, a few inches taller than her, dressed in a bloodied T-shirt glared at Emmy and nodded. Instantly Steve moved forward a step so he was level with his daughter, his hand dropping to her shoulder.

“Your daughter broke my son’s nose.” The woman glared up at him.

“So I understand.” Steve nodded. “She has been suspended and we’ll be dealing with it appropriately.”

“You know, kids like her, they shouldn’t be-”

“Kids like her?” Steve blinked at the woman, and shook his head. “Excuse me?”

“You know what I mean.”

“No, I don’t.” Steve’s voice was low. “So, please, explain.”

“I mean with violent and aggressive tendencies, they should be locked up not in a school with normal kids-” “Woah, now hang on.” Steve held his hand up as he looked at the woman. “Your son isn’t exactly innocent in all this.” “I don’t see your daughter with blood all over her shirt. He didn’t hit her…” “I would hope not, seeing as he’s a boy and half a foot taller than her.” He shot back and the woman’s mouth snapped shut. Steve turned to Emmy and handed her the backpack and his keys. “Go and get in the car, sweetheart, I’ll be with you in a minute.” Emmy glanced up at him, one look on his face told her he wasn’t to be argued with, and she nodded and took them from him, before leaving.

His attention then turned to the teenager and woman and he folded his arms across his chest, glaring at them both. The boy had a sharp face, slicked back blonde hair and for some reason he reminded Steve of a younger Gilmore Hodge. Which was never a good thing. He looked at the woman and spoke again, his voice level but full of that Captain Authority he could never help turning on in situations like this.

“Your son said some very nasty things to my daughter, and in normal circumstances he should be apologising. However, given what happened I suggest we leave it at that and they agree to stay away from one another in the future.” “Him apologise?” The woman practically shrieked. “She punched him, if anything she’s the one that should be saying sorry.” Steve gave a huff of a laugh “I can assure you that won’t be happening. Besides,” he turned to the boy, “do you really want an apology from a ‘fucking orphan rat’?”

He heard a snigger followed by a mumble of “mic drop…” to his right and turned to see Brooke was still there.

“What are-” he shot her a look, pointing towards the class rooms, “-scoot.” “Later Mr R.” Brooke shot him a salute and he raised an eyebrow as she headed off back to wherever she should have been in the first place.

“Did you say that?” The woman had rounded on her son.

“No…I swear.” “He said he didn’t.” Steve shook his head, his hands dropping to the buckle of his belt. “I’m not interested in whether he admits it or not. Fact of the matter is I believe my daughter and according to her and her friend, Emmy isn’t the first kid he’s picked on but I’m sure as hell hoping she’s gonna be the last, especially now he’s had a punch in the face to make him consider the consequences of his actions.” His lips quirked a little at the side as he delivered his final line. “I’d hate for him to get antoher.” “How dare you threaten him?” The woman was now talking in that high a pitch it was making Steve’s ears hurt.

“That isn’t a threat.” Steve shook his head “Merely an observation. Now if you’ll excuse me.” He turned to the door when the woman spluttered after him “You know, we do know where you live. That big, fancy house in Clinton Hill.” “Then by all means feel free to call round later.” Steve laughed as he turned to grin at the woman of her shoulder. “But I really don’t fancy your chances against my wife.” ****** “He said WHAT?” Katie spluttered once Steve had explained what had gone on. “The little fucking shit!” “His mother wasn’t much better either.” Steve shook his head as he raised Jamie up higher in the air above him, the tot screaming with laughter. “She threatened to come round later.” “I’ll kick her fucking ass!” Katie folded her arms across her chest and a wry smile crossed Steve’s face as he brought Jamie back down to his chest.

“Yeah I told her I didn’t fancy her chances.”

“Where’s Emmy now?” Katie asked.

“In her room, she said she wanted to be alone for a bit.”

Katie pondered for a moment, before she moved and walked out of the kitchen, calling up the stairs, “Emmy? Can you come down for a minute please?”

Katie came back into the kitchen and it wasn’t long before Emmy appeared, her eyes red. Katie sighed and pulled her into a hug.

“I’m sorry, I just, ” Emmy sniffed. “He was so rude and…” “Sweetie, we’re not mad.” Katie shook her head, steering the girl across the hall “We just want to talk to you, about what he said,” she gestured at one of the seats by the breakfast bar, “sit.”

Emmy did as she was told and Steve placed Jamie in the pack and play at the corner of the room. There was a minute or so silence before Katie slid a mug of hot chocolate, containing marshmallows and cream across the counter to Emmy, then passed Steve a coffee, picking up her own drink before she rounded the counter and sat on a stool next to Emmy, Steve staying where he was, the base of his back leaning against the worktop opposite them.

“So your dad told me what happened.” Katie began “And we want to talk to you about what that little jerk said to you.”

“I shouldn’t have let him get to me.” Emmy shrugged “I know what he was saying was crap but…” “If your dad had a dollar for every time he had reacted to something he shouldn’t have done he’d be richer than Tony.” Katie smiled and Steve gave a scoff.

“You’re a fine one to talk.” He raised an eyebrow at his wife and she grinned.

“And as for throwing you out once you’re old enough,” Katie shook her head, “you’re with us for as long as you wanna be. And then even when you don’t want to be, and you move out, we’ll be keeping tabs on you, annoying you, like Tony does to me.”

Emmy smiled and wiped at her eyes.

“You said he’s been picking on you for a while?” Steve asked “What made you snap today?” Emmy shrugged “I guess I was just fed up with it and when he was laughing about my name on my test paper, and he called me an orphan rat I saw red.” Katie took a deep breath, she was furious but before she could say anything Steve spoke, a frown creasing his brow.

“What do you mean he was laughing at your name?” “My surname.” Emmy shrugged “On stuff like the register and things at school its Rogers but on my official test papers for my grades it has to be McKellen, because Rogers isn’t my real name. And he was laughing saying that I didn’t belong anywhere.” Steve and Katie locked eyes and Steve was the first one to break away.

“Does it bother you, that your name isn’t Rogers?”

“Not normally.” She shrugged

“What if we made it so?” Katie asked.

“What, like change it legally?” “That’s one way of doing it.” Steve shrugged.  “The other is we adopt you.” Katie looked at her husband and smiled. This was something they’d mentioned in passing to one another a few times but never really talked about in any detail as, well, to them things were fine as they were. But now, well, it just felt right. The next step for them all. Making her status as their daughter official.

“Adopt me?” Emmy’s voice was a whisper.

“Yeah.” Katie nodded. “Look, Em, as far as we’re concerned you’re already our daughter, and not just a foster one either. It’s merely a formality. But it’s up to you.” “Do you want to think about it?” Steve asked.

“No.” Emmy shook her head as she looked up tears in her eyes. “No, I don’t want to think about it. I’d love it, I really would.” Katie smiled as the girl threw her arms round her shoulders and began to sob. Steve put his mug down on the counter next to him and strode round to wrap his large arms around both his girls until a loud screech form the corner of the room made them all look up. Jamie was stood gripping the side of his play pen, clearly disgruntled at being left out of the hug.

“Alright pal, point taken.” Steve picked him up and carried him back to where Emmy was now wiping her eyes. He handed the tot to his older sister and Katie grinned.

“Family hug?” She opened her arms and Emmy laughed, as the four of them snuggled together in a huddle.

*****

March 2021

Despite Steve’s best attempts to ignore it, there was something in what that little shit had said to Emmy that had really bothered him.  The Avengers fucked up. It wasn’t an alien thought, he often found himself thinking back to how they had failed but he normally shook himself out of it. They’d done the best they could, they simply hadn’t stood a chance.

The thing was, not all of the public saw that. On more than one occasion the remaining Avengers had all experienced some kind of vitriol from the public, Natasha still receiving hate mail for them all at the compound. Whilst people he met understood, it was always the ones that didn’t which stuck in Steve’s mind, but he’d never had anything more than the odd whispered insult or dirty look come his way, that was until a few day’s after Jamie’s first birthday.

He was in the store with Emmy, picking up a few bits and pieces for the family gathering they were having to celebrate Jamie turning one and he could feel someone’s eyes on him, which wasn’t unusual. What was unusual, however, was the tap on the shoulder her received as he tossed a few items from the list Katie had given him into the trolley.

“I thought it was you.”

Steve turned to see a dark haired man, the same height as him looking back.

“Can I help you?” Steve asked politely.

The man snorted “I thought at one point, yeah, but you didn’t, this…us…what the world is now, it’s all your fault.” Steve took a deep breath, and spotted Emmy returning to the aisle he was in with an armful of snacks he had sent her for.

“Sir-” Steve began, trying to placate the man but before he could do anything the guy had punched him straight in the face. It wasn’t a hard blow, but Steve hadn’t been expecting it. Or the subsequent blows for that matter.

He was vaguely aware Emmy was screaming, and out of the corner of his eye he saw a security guard hurrying towards him. Before he reached them, Emmy had kicked the man hard in the shin and was shouting at him, as he hopped on his good leg. Steve doubled over, the ringing in his ears subsiding as he pinched at his nose which was streaming blood.

“Oh my God.” A female voice said “Billy, what…” she looked up at Steve and paled “Captain, oh God, I’m so sorry…he’s…” Steve waved away another member of the public who had come to help, insisting he was fine. Taking a deep breath he looked up and saw the man was now crying, his head buried into his wife’s shoulders.

“We…we lost our son.” The lady continued, with a choked voice. “He hasn’t dealt with it so well.”

“I’m sorry.” Steve bowed his head, it was all he could think to say.

“It isn’t you fault” The lady shook her head. “And he doesn’t think that, not really, it’s just we never got a proper explanation, you know, bar official government statements. No real help to come to terms with anything.” “That doesn’t mean he can just punch the crap outta my dad!” Emmy blazed, indignantly and Steve lay a hand on her shoulder. “Emmy.” He shook his head gently before he turned to the woman. “I’m sorry that no one was there for you and I’m sorry that we couldn’t do more. But we tried.” The last three words were almost a plea to her, trying to make her understand they had tried, boy did they try. She cast him another sad look before she led her husband away.

“You ok?” Steve looked down at his daughter.

“Me?” She frowned “What about you?” “Had worse.” Steve mumbled, gently touching his nose “Let’s get out stuff and get home before it starts to set. I don’t fancy having to re-break it.”

**** Katie was sat smiling as Natasha was holding Jamie up, his hands curled round her fingers as she guided him round the living room.

“Won’t be long until he’s doing this himself.” The red head smiled, and Katie grinned.

“He’s growing so fast.” 

“Think you’ll have another?” Nat looked at her.

Katie shrugged. “I don’t know. I mean, Steve would have a football team full if I let him but, who knows.”

Nat smiled and Katie’s attention turned back to her son who was toddling in front of his Auntie. He was looking more and more like his father each day and was now a substantial little chunk who was pretty strong and robust too. Small bumps and knocks didn’t seem to phase him at all, and the other day he’d been playing with a tonka truck and had fallen onto it, flattening it completely. He’d screamed blue murder, more over the fact his toy was broken than he had been hurt, but it had made both his parents realise that he was definitely half Super Soldier and wasn’t inheriting any of Steve’s pre-serum ailments, much to Steve’s relief.

Their attention was taken as all three of them heard the car pull up the gravel drive and Jamie gave an excited giggle and started moving his legs even faster at the sound, understanding it to mean his father was back. Smiling to herself, Katie watched as he giggled and started trying to run to the door, and when it opened she looked up fully expecting Steve to grin and swoop his boy up into his arms, except what greeted her made her hand fly up to her mouth. His shirt was covered with blood and his nose was out of shape.

“Shit.” Katie stood up and headed straight to him, gently reaching up to slide a finger to his face, tilting it so she could see. “Are you ok?”

“I’m fine sweetheart” he said gently.

“What the hell happened?” Nat asked as she picked Jamie up, who was still squirming to get to his father, completely nonplussed by what was going on.

“Some guy in the store punched him.” Emmy explained, and Katie looked at her daughter, whose eyes were swollen, she’d been crying.

“What? Why?” she frowned. “Em, can you grab me an ice pack out the freezer?” Steve asked before she could answer, she was upset enough as it was and he didn’t want her seeing or hearing what was coming next. She nodded and headed off.

“Steve.” Katie watched as he sat down on the sofa, shaking his head.

“Just reset it before it starts to heal anymore.” He grumbled. “Quickly before she gets back.”

Katie sat next to him and reached out gently. He grit his teeth as she snapped his nose back into place. Across the room Nat flinched at the crunching noise it made.

“Fuck.” Steve cursed softly before laying his head back against the cushions of the couch steadying his breathing as his eyes began to water from the pain. He knew it would heal quickly but that didn’t stop it hurting like hell.

“You gonna tell us what happened?” Katie asked, looking at him.

“Some guy at the store recognised me and started screaming that it was all our fault, the Snap, and hit me.”

“Must have been a pretty hard swing.” Nat said gently, bouncing Jamie up and down, distracting him with the Cap teddy bear she had grabbed off the floor. Jamie grinned at the bear and grabbed it, sticking the ear of it into his mouth.

“He didn’t just hit you once, Dad.” Emmy said gently as she returned, passing him the ice pack.

“How many times was it?” Katie frowned.

“Four ,maybe.” he shrugged

“Try Six” Emmy muttered.

“Six?!” Katie’s voice grew loud

“And you just let him?” Nat’s snorted. “What else could I do Nat?” Steve sighed, “I couldn’t hit him back…” “Yes, you damned well could!” Katie seethed. “Fuck!”

“Language.” Steve chastised playfully. “Besides, wasn’t really going to hit him once Em had kicked him in the shin.”

“You kicked him?” Katie looked at Emmy who shrugged.

“He was screaming and punching so I kicked him, real hard, and then told him that he was an asshole, and everyone had lost, and that he should try fighting Thanos in a field in Wakanda himself if he could do any better…” “Then the guy’s wife appeared.” Steve sighed, pressing the ice pack to his face.

“Yeah, she was nice.” Emmy nodded. “Said they had lost their son and she was so sorry.” “But they’d never really had a chance to ask questions or had an explanation other than what the Government had said.” Steve’s voice was muffled slightly from the pack. “But it got me thinking in the car about how many other people out there like that.” “So we had an idea.” Emmy nodded “Support groups.” “Support groups?” Katie frowned.

“Yeah, we have them at school.” Emmy said “Somewhere for people to go and talk about their issues and feelings.” “That’s actually not a bad idea.” Nat mused and Steve nodded.

“I know. Surprised we didn’t think of it sooner.”

“Well we’ve had other things on our minds.” Katie popped a shoulder, gently.

“I’m gonna help.” Emmy smiled. “We’re gonna brainstorm ideas later after the party.”

“Yeah, on that, do me a favour and no one mention this to Tony when he gets here.” Steve groaned as he stood up, ice pack still on his nose. “I’m going to get cleaned up.”

Leaving Emmy to watch Jamie, Nat and Katie unloaded the car and took the supplies to the kitchen. Steve showered quickly and came back to help them, and it wasn’t long before the food was sorted, Katie’s ability to cook how easily she did never ceased to amaze Steve. Before long the gang arrived and Morgan toddled in, holding Tony’s hand before he let go and she bee-lined for Emmy who was sat on the living room floor where she had been sat looking at a book with Jamie.

“Hey Moo!” Emmy grinned at the younger girl who sat with a soft thud next to her, leaning into her older cousin for a hug.

Tony watched them for a short while before he asked if Emmy was okay and then headed into the kitchen to find Pepper already clutching a glass of champagne. Katie handed him a beer as she pulled him into a hug and he shook Steve’s hand.

“You’re in the same room as usual.” Katie looked at him. “I wasn’t sure if you wanted Moo in with you guys or not so there’s the travel cot in there or she can have the room over from you…” “She can stay with us.” Tony nodded, taking a pull from his beer.

“Where is she?”  Natasha asked.

“With Emmy. She adores that kid.”

“Have you told her the paperwork has been finalised?” Pepper asked looking at Katie and Steve who both shook their head.

“No, we’re gonna surprise her with that later.” Katie smiled.

“We got her a little something.” Tony swallowed his beer. “You know, just to welcome her officially to the mad house.” “What is it?” Steve asked suspiciously.

“Nothing Iron Man or Tony Stark related.” Pepper looked at Steve. “I promise.” Tony shrugged. “Spoil sport.” The five adults all headed into the large living room, Jamie grinned up at his uncle and crawled over to him. Tony swung him up in the air and smiled, that is until Jamie head-butted him by accident.

“Oww…shhhhhhhhugar!” The billionaire corrected his curse before wincing. “Man, Rogers, this kid has your knuckle head.” Steve smirked. “He’s still half Stark.”

“Mind you, you should be grateful he doesn’t take after his mom. She was a horror.” “Was not.” Katie shot back indignantly. “Kiddo, you were a pain in the ass.” Tony sniggered. “You stuck bread in the VCR. Dad hit the roof.” “I thought it was a toaster.” Katie shrugged as the room laughed. “Mind you, not like we have to worry about that now seeing as VCRs went out in the stone age.” “Was that an age joke?” Tony smirked. “Do I have to respond with one about your husband or…” Steve rolled his eyes “Go ahead, be original.” “You know you’re almost as sarcastic as she is now.” Nat but in, pointing at Katie who grinned before she looked at Tony.

“You remember what dad used to say?”

“Sarcasm is a measure of potential,” Tony imitated their father’s voice. “And if that’s true…” “You’ll be a great man someday.” Katie finished, the two of them laughing.

Despite the crappy start to the day, it was a nice afternoon surrounded by their family. They drank, ate and eventually it was time for the cake which Katie and Steve were excited about, for good reason. Katie placed it down on the coffee table in the middle of the lounge, complete with candles. For the first time the group got a look at it, and Steve heard Emmy gasp. Half the large cake was iced in blue, the other half was lilac and across the top the word ‘Happy’ spanned both halves, before the next line read birth on the blue side and adoption on the other, before the word day sat underneath.

Emmy glanced up at her parents, her eyes filling with tears. “You mean…” Steve grinned and handed her the envelope he’d retrieved from the kitchen, which she took in shaking hands. “Signed, sealed, done. You’re officially a Rogers, Em.”

“Poor thing.” Tony mumbled, earning himself a slap round the back of the head from Natasha.

Together the Rogers’ children blew out their candles (well, Katie blowing Jamie’s out on his behalf before the boy could grab one of them and burn himself) and then Emmy turned to look at Steve and Katie before throwing herself forwards, her arms round both their waists. Steve’s arm fell to her back and he pressed a kiss to Katie’s cheek before Tony stepped forward and handed Emmy a small gift bag.

“It’s just a little something.” He smiled. “Just to say welcome to the family, officially we mean, because you’re already part of the…” He rolled his eyes as Emmy blinked up at him. “Just take it, kid.”

Emmy took the bag and opened it, her eyes widening as she looked at the box, emblazoned with the word Pandora. Katie peered down as Emmy opened it and smiled at the charm bracelet which was inside. It held charms, the letters EJR for her initials, Emily Jayne Rogers.

“Thank you.” She whispered before she gave Tony a hug, then Pepper. She stepped back and turned around, her eyes brimming with tears. “This is the best day ever!”

And despite the shitty start to it in the store, Steve was inclined to agree it hadn’t been that bad at all.

Chapter 47

 **Original Posting**