#the chapter break will be long on this one cause I have boards now from like feb

[all-buttond-up]

Officially announcing that ch 3 will end next week ❗️❗️❗️

[03jyh23]

🖤⌇ thuggish charm chapter one bandit(?)!; a jung wooyoung mini-series

badboy(?) wooyoung x fem!reader

│ series masterlist│ next │

│synopsis: the one where you miss your train and meet a charming... bandit?

│genre: romance

│trigger warnings: none?

│words: 4.5 k

│reminder: what you’re about to read is purely fiction, so let’s keep it separate from reality.

!minors do not interact!

│taglist: if you wish to join let me know here

— hi there, my lovely people! honestly, i have no idea what this is 😭. i got inspired by a song from one of the rappers in my country and just went with it. and now i'm just wondering if i should do something more with this story or just leave it be?

love, mon ♡

A cold evening breeze tousled your hair, plastering strands to your face. A heavy bag hung from your shoulder, filled with items that couldn't fit into the large suitcase standing beside you, your hand gripping its handle tightly. The thing was, you didn't make it to your transfer train. Despite your friends' warnings, you insisted you could grab a much-needed iced coffee in the 10 minutes before your train left. You were wrong.

The platform was dark, with only two solitary lamps casting a dim light. You cursed yourself under your breath, but there wasn't much you could do now. You'd already waited for an hour; you could've managed another before the next train arrived. You glanced at your phone, sighing heavily—it was running out of battery. It was frustrating. You'd have to wait two hours just to take a train for a little over forty minutes to reach your hometown. But you were the only one to blame. Well, at least you had your coffee and a blueberry muffin. But it wasn’t worth it, not at all. You shivered, pulling your jacket tighter around you. You glanced at the large clock hanging from the information board, hoping the minutes would pass more quickly. Of course, they didn't.

After an frustratingly long time you finally heard the train approaching, its rumble growing louder as it neared the station. You felt a mix of relief and anticipation wash over you. Finally, you'd be on your way. As the train's headlights pierced through the darkness, illuminating the platform, you gathered your belongings and prepared to board, eager to put this frustrating delay behind you.

The car you boarded was empty, so you sat down at the very end, near the window. You placed your luggage in the designated area and quickly plugged in your phone to charge as much as possible for the remaining journey.

As the train pulled into the next station, the platform gradually came into view, bathed in the harsh glow of fluorescent lights that cast long shadows across the concrete. The stark illumination revealed an almost deserted space, save for a group of eight young men clustered near the far end. Their presence immediately caught your attention, starkly contrasting the emptiness surrounding them. Each member of the group was clad entirely in black, their dark attire blending into the night behind them. As your eyes adjusted to the scene, you noticed intricate tattoos adorning their bodies and faces - some subtle, others bold and striking. Three of them were casually smoking cigarettes, the wisps of smoke curling upwards into the night air. As you observed them, one of the smokers suddenly locked eyes with you. His gaze was intense and unwavering, causing a shiver to run down your spine. Without breaking eye contact, he deliberately tossed his half-finished cigarette into a nearby bin. The action, while seemingly casual, felt loaded with meaning. Your heart plummeted, a mix of anxiety and unease settling in your stomach. The weight of his stare was palpable, even from this distance. Instinctively, you turned your head away, breaking the uncomfortable connection. Your mind raced with possibilities, none of them comforting. As the train doors hissed open, you found yourself fervently hoping that none of the group would decide to board. The thought of sharing this confined space with them filled you with a sense of apprehension that you couldn't quite shake off.

"Wooyoung-ah, just get there and get it done with, yeah?" the unexpected gentleness in the voice you’ve just heard had caught you off guard. You grabbed your phone to busy yourself with, fingers trembling slightly as you unlocked it, trying to appear nonchalant.

As you glanced up from your phone, you saw one of the young men from the group stepping onto the train. His movements were fluid and graceful, belying his intimidating appearance. The tattoos on his face seemed to dance in the flickering light of the train car. "I'll be fine, Joong. See y'all next week, yeah?" the boy called out, waving to his companions just before the train doors closed with a loud beep. Your heart rate quickened as you realized he must be Wooyoung, the one addressed earlier. His hair was black, neck-length, with a fringe styled neatly—only a few strands falling onto his forehead. You noticed a bandage right above his eyebrow, the skin around it purple with bruises. He wasn't tall, but the chunky boots and large leather jacket made him appear more imposing. The tattoos adorning his face seemed to shift and dance in the dim light of the train, adding an air of mystery to his already intimidating presence. His dark eyes scanned the train car, eventually settling on you. For a moment, your gazes locked, and you felt a mix of fear and inexplicable curiosity wash over you.

Wooyoung chose a seat a few rows ahead of you, close enough that you could observe him without being too obvious. As he settled in, you couldn't help but notice the way his shoulders relaxed slightly, as if he was shedding some of the intensity he had displayed on the platform. The train lurched forward, and you found yourself stealing glances at him, trying to reconcile the intimidating figure you'd seen on the platform with the young man now sitting quietly a few rows ahead. His presence seemed to fill the car, even in silence. Your eyes were drawn to the intricate tattoos adorning his face. The one beneath his left eye caught your attention - at first glance, it looked like the number 26, but as you studied it more closely, you realized it might be something else entirely. Your gaze drifted to his temple, where a small, delicate butterfly tattoo rested, a surprising contrast to his otherwise intimidating appearance. You tried to read the lettering above his eyebrow when he caught your eyes again. You raised your eyebrows and looked away, feeling a shudder run through your body. The intensity of his gaze was unsettling, a mix of curiosity and something you couldn't quite place. Your heart raced as you pretended to be engrossed in your phone, all too aware of his presence just a few rows ahead.

The train's rhythmic movement did little to calm your nerves as you found yourself stealing quick glances at Wooyoung again, hoping he wouldn't notice. The tattoo above his eyebrow remained a mystery, its meaning just out of reach.

Suddenly, his voice broke the silence, startling you out of your thoughts. "You know, it's not polite to stare," he said, his tone filled with amusement. His eyes met yours again, this time with a hint of a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.

You felt your face flush with embarrassment, caught red-handed in your observation. "I... I'm sorry," you stammered, unsure of how to respond to his unexpected address.

Wooyoung shifted in his seat, turning to face you more directly. "Curious about the ink?" he asked, gesturing to the tattoos on his face. "Most people are. They either can't look away or can't bear to look at all." His words carried a weight that suggested he was used to both reactions. You felt your words frozen in your throat, unable to form a coherent response. The intensity of Wooyoung's gaze and the unexpected interaction left you speechless. You simply averted your eyes, focusing intently on your hands clasped tightly in your lap. You heard him chuckling softly, a sound that was both melodious and slightly unnerving. "Not much of a talker, huh?" he mused, his eyes still fixed on you. You dared to look up again, the warmth in his expression caught you off guard, softening his intimidating appearance. It was a stark contrast to the intense gaze you had encountered earlier. For a moment, you found yourself relaxing slightly, the tension in your shoulders easing just a fraction. "Are you afraid of me?" Wooyoung asked, sensing your hesitation. His voice was softer than you expected. The question hung in the air between you, heavy with implications.

You hesitated, weighing your words carefully. The initial fear you felt was still there, but it had been tempered by curiosity and the unexpected warmth in his smile. "I... I'm not sure," you admitted honestly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Wooyoung leaned forward, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "That's fair," he said, his voice sultry. "But I promise, I'm much more... fun than I look." He winked, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. "Want to find out just how deceiving appearances can be?" His gaze locked with yours, intense and inviting, daring you to look beyond his intimidating exterior.

You blinked continuously, taken aback by his bold proposition. "E-excuse me?" you managed to stammer, your voice barely above a whisper. The sudden shift in the conversation left you flustered, unsure of how to respond to unexpected flirtation.

Wooyoung rose from his seat, his movements fluid and deliberate. As he approached, you found yourself captivated by his presence. He stood before you, and for the first time, you truly noticed the intricate details of his face. His nose and lip piercings glinted in the dim light of the train car, adding to his allure. You were struck by how handsome he was up close, his features a perfect blend of sharp angles and soft curves. Looking up at him, you felt a mix of nervousness and anticipation.

Wooyoung's eyes met yours, a hint of amusement dancing in their depths. "May I?" he asked, his voice low and smooth as he gestured towards the seat next to you. The question hung in the air, loaded with possibilities. Your heart raced as you considered your options. The intensity of Wooyoung's gaze made you feel both thrilled and uneasy. After a moment's hesitation, you nodded slightly, your curiosity overcoming your apprehension. As he settled into the seat beside you, his presence both intimidating and oddly comforting, you couldn't help but wonder what you were getting yourself into.

"My name's Wooyoung," he says, his eyes roaming your features. "And I'd hate to scare off such a beautiful girl, so answer me... are you really afraid of me? Or is it just my killer looks that's got your tongue?" You felt a rush of heat creep up your neck as Wooyoung's words washed over you. His proximity was intoxicating, the scent of leather and something distinctly masculine filling your senses. You struggled to find your voice, caught between the intimidating aura he exuded and the undeniable attraction you felt.

"I... I'm not afraid," you finally managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper. "Just... surprised." You met his gaze, finding yourself drawn into the depth of his dark eyes.

Wooyoung's pierced lips curved into a smirk, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Surprised? By what? My charming personality or my devilishly good looks?" He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a low, intimate tone that sent shivers down your spine.

You couldn't help but let out a nervous laugh, some of the tension dissipating. "Maybe a bit of both," you admitted, surprising yourself with your boldness.

His smirk widened into a genuine smile, transforming his face. "I like your honesty," he said, his eyes never leaving yours. "So, beautiful, since we've established you're not afraid of me, how about we make this train ride a little more... interesting?" You crossed your arms and leaned back against the window, trying to put some distance between yourself and Wooyoung. His sudden closeness and bold proposition had caught you off guard, and you needed a moment to gather your thoughts.

"Are you going to shout 'A bandit! Help!' and run away now?" he joked, but you couldn't quite shake off the feeling he'd been in this situation before. Despite his joking tone, there was an undercurrent of familiarity in his words. Gathering your courage, you decided to address the elephant in the room.

"Do people usually call you a bandit?" you asked, your voice a mix of curiosity and caution.

Wooyoung's expression shifted slightly, a flicker of something—perhaps surprise or appreciation—crossing his features. He leaned back, creating a bit more space between you, and let out a soft chuckle. "Ah, straight to the point, aren't you?" he said, his tone a blend of amusement and something more serious. "Let's just say I've heard it enough times to make jokes about it. But appearances can be deceiving, you know?" His eyes met yours, and for a moment, you saw a vulnerability there that contradicted his tough exterior. "What do you think? Am I living up to the 'thug' stereotype?" he asked, his voice carrying a hint of challenge.

Finally, you took a deep breath and met his eyes directly. The intensity of his gaze made you feel both nervous and intrigued. "Honestly?" you asked with hesitation, weighing your next words carefully.

"No, please lie to me!" Wooyoung joked, his eyes twinkling with amusement. He reached into his pocket, pulling out a pack of chewing gum. With a swift motion, he popped one into his mouth, the minty scent wafting between you. You couldn't help but smile at his playful response, feeling some of the tension dissipate. The casual act of chewing gum somehow made him seem more approachable, and less intimidating than before.

Taking another deep breath, you decided to answer honestly. "At first glance, maybe. The tattoos, the piercings, the whole vibe... it's intimidating," you admitted, watching his reaction carefully. "But talking to you now? You seem more... complex than that. There's more to you than meets the eye, isn't there?" You surprised yourself with your boldness, but something about Wooyoung made you want to dig deeper, to understand the person behind the intimidating facade.

Wooyoung smirked, raising one of his eyebrows as he popped a bubble with the gum. "Are you a psychiatrist in the making?" he teased. You wanted to brush off his little comment, but he didn't give you time to answer. "'I'm no bandit, first I've heard of it,'" he said, putting his hands up as if he were surrendering. "You'd be shocked at how many times I've had to say that." His words carried a hint of frustration beneath the playful tone, and you found yourself wondering about the experiences that led him to make such a statement. Wooyoung leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "You know," he said, his eyes twinkling with mischief, "the ladies think I kill, but at home, I walk in pink slippers." He paused, letting the image sink in before continuing, "And all the grannies yell when I step out on the street." His gaze locked with yours, a mix of amusement and challenge in his expression. You couldn't help but laugh at the contrast he painted. The image of this intimidating figure in pink slippers was both absurd and oddly endearing.

"What else do you do at home?" you tease, finally relaxing into your seat, smiling warmly at the boy.

"Isn't that a very personal question?" he replies, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

You raised an eyebrow, mirroring his playful expression. "Well, you did invite me to make this train ride more interesting," you countered, your confidence growing with each exchange. "Besides, I'm curious about the man behind the tattoos and pink slippers." Your eyes met his, a silent challenge in your gaze, daring him to reveal more about himself.

"As for the tattoos, I just fucking like them, that's all," Wooyoung said with a shrug. His nonchalant attitude towards his tattoos made you wonder about the stories behind each one.

You found yourself drawn to the intricate designs adorning his skin, each one likely holding a unique significance. "Do any of them have special meanings?" you asked, your curiosity piqued. Wooyoung's eyes lit up at your question, a mix of surprise and appreciation crossing his features.

"I'll save the answer to that for a second date," Wooyoung said with a wink. He nonchalantly popped another gum balloon before spitting it into the small trash bin.

You laughed softly, feeling a mix of intrigue and amusement at his flirtatious response. "A second date? Aren't we getting a bit ahead of ourselves?" you teased back, your eyes meeting his with a playful challenge. The easy banter between you two was unexpected, but not unwelcome.

Wooyoung leaned in, his voice dropping to a low, sultry tone. "Well, I consider this our first date, ever since you agreed for me to sit here," he said, his eyes twinkling with mischief. The boldness of his statement caught you off guard, sending a flutter through your stomach.

You felt a blush creep up your cheeks, but you couldn't help the smile that tugged at your lips. "Oh really?" you replied, trying to match his confidence. "And here I thought first dates usually involved dinner or a movie, not a chance encounter on a train."

Wooyoung's grin widened, "Who says we can't be unconventional?" he countered, his gaze never leaving yours. "But if you want all of that," he continued, his voice taking on a playful, almost challenging tone, "then it's my pleasure to take you on such a... boring date without anything extraordinary to it." His eyes sparkled with mischief as he leaned in slightly closer. "Though I have to warn you, even my idea of 'ordinary' might surprise you."

You raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on your lips. "Who says I'd even agree to go out with you in the first place?" you challenged, your tone playful but with a hint of seriousness. "You're making quite a few assumptions there, Wooyoung."

Wooyoung's eyes widened slightly, clearly not expecting your response. He leaned back, a mix of surprise and admiration crossing his features. After a moment, he let out a low chuckle. "Touché," he said, his voice tinged with respect. "I guess I got a bit ahead of myself there. My apologies." He paused, his gaze softening. "But can you blame a guy for trying? You're not exactly easy to resist."

You felt a flutter in your stomach at his words, but you maintained your composure. "Flattery will get you nowhere," you said, though you couldn't help the small smile that tugged at your lips. "But I appreciate the apology. Maybe we should start with getting to know each other a bit better before planning any dates, hmm?"

Wooyoung's eyes lit up with amusement at your suggestion. "Why waste time if we can get to know each other on the date?" he countered, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. "After all, isn't that what dates are for?"

You couldn't help but laugh at his persistence. "You don't even know my name," you pointed out, shaking your head in amusement at his bold flirtation.

Wooyoung's grin widened, his eyes twinkling with mischief. He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a low, intimate tone. "I don't need that to know you're the most beautiful woman I've seen," he said, his gaze never leaving yours. You felt a rush of heat creep up your neck at his words, caught between flattery and disbelief at his audacity. Despite yourself, you couldn't help but be charmed by his confidence and smooth talking.

You decided to play along with his flirtatious banter, feeling a mix of amusement and excitement. With a coy smile, you leaned in slightly and said, "I hope my beauty isn't too distracting. We wouldn't want you to miss your stop, would we?"

Wooyoung's eyes widened for a moment, clearly taken aback by your sudden boldness. Then, a slow, appreciative grin spread across his face. "Oh, darling," he drawled, his voice low and rich, "I'd gladly miss a hundred stops if it meant spending more time with you."

You couldn't help but giggle, turning your face away in embarrassment, not able to continue with the banter. You felt a warmth spreading through your chest, a mix of embarrassment and excitement at the intensity of Wooyoung's flirtation. As you turned back to face him, you caught a glimpse of something softer in his eyes, a vulnerability that seemed at odds with his bold exterior. For a moment, you allowed yourself to be caught in his gaze, feeling a strange mix of excitement and uncertainty. As the silence stretched between you, you noticed how Wooyoung started playing with his lip ring, his fingers absently toying with the small metal hoop. His eyes, which had been locked with yours, briefly dropped to your lips before meeting your gaze again. The gesture was subtle, but unmistakable, sending a small thrill through you. You found yourself wondering how that lip ring would feel against your own lips, the thought was both thrilling and intimidating. It sent a shiver down your spine, a mix of excitement and nervousness coursing through you. You couldn't deny the attraction you felt towards Wooyoung, his bold confidence and mysterious aura drawing you in. Your eyes flickered to his lips, lingering on the silver ring that adorned them. You found yourself wondering what it would be like to kiss him, to feel the cool metal against your skin. Catching yourself, you quickly averted your gaze, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks. But the image remained, tantalizing and forbidden, at the edges of your mind. You tried to push the thought away, but it persisted, a silent acknowledgment of your growing desire.

Wooyoung's whispered words sent a shiver down your spine. "If there's something you want to do, you should act upon it," he murmured, leaning in closer. His head tilted slightly, his eyes never leaving yours. The intensity of his gaze made your breath catch in your throat. You felt a magnetic pull towards him, your heart racing as the space between you diminished. The air seemed to crackle with tension, and you found yourself drawn to his lips, that tantalizing lip ring catching the dim light of the train. Time seemed to slow as you hovered on the precipice of decision. Should you give in to the desire that had been building since this chance encounter began? Or was this moving too fast, too soon?

Wooyoung smiled lightly, his face so close you could feel his breath on your skin. The proximity made the lump in your throat grow, your heart racing with anticipation. His voice dropped to a low, intimate whisper as he asked, "Is it alright for me to touch you?" The question hung in the air between you, charged with tension and unspoken desire. You found yourself at a crossroads, torn between the thrill of the moment and the rational part of your mind reminding you that you'd just met. Your body seemed to lean towards him of its own accord, drawn by an inexplicable magnetism. You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest. But it wasn't enough for Wooyoung. His eyes, dark and intense, bore into yours as he whispered, "I need to hear you actually say it." His voice was low, almost husky, sending a shiver down your spine. The anticipation hung thick in the air between you, every second stretching out like an eternity.

You swallowed hard, finding your voice. "Yes," you breathed, barely audible even in the quiet of the train car. "You can touch me." The words left your lips, a mix of nervousness and excitement coloring your tone. Wooyoung's eyes lit up, a slow smile spreading across his face as he leaned in even closer. Wooyoung's hand moved to your jaw, his touch gentle yet electrifying. His fingers caressed your cheek, the warmth of his skin sending shivers down your spine. Slowly, deliberately, he ran his thumb over your lower lip, the sensation causing you to tremble involuntarily. Your breath hitched, caught between anticipation and nervousness as you felt the intensity of his touch and gaze.

You closed your eyes, leaning in to close the distance between you. Your heart raced as you whispered, "You can kiss me now." The words hung in the air, charged with anticipation. You waited, breath held, for him to make his move. Wooyoung's breath hitched audibly, a soft exhale that you felt against your skin. There was a moment of stillness, the world seeming to pause around you. Then, with agonizing slowness, you felt him lean in. His lips brushed against yours, feather-light at first, testing. The cool metal of his lip ring sent a jolt through you, contrasting with the warmth of his mouth.

As if emboldened by your response, Wooyoung deepened the kiss. His hand cupped your face more firmly, fingers tangling in your hair. The kiss was a perfect blend of gentle and passionate, leaving you breathless. You could taste the hint of his earlier gum, with a hint of cigarettes. Time seemed to stand still as you lost yourself in the moment, all thoughts of the train and your surroundings fading away.

Suddenly, a jolt from the train brought you both back to reality. You pulled away slightly, your cheeks flushed and your breath coming in short gasps. Wooyoung's eyes were dark with desire as he gazed at you, a small smile playing on his lips. The moment hung between you, charged with the thrill of newfound connection.

You looked out the window, suddenly realizing with a jolt that you recognized the station passing by. "It's my stop!" you shouted, jumping to your feet in a panic. You quickly unplugged your phone, then grabbed your suitcase and bag, heart racing as you rushed towards the doors.

Wooyoung's eyes widened in surprise, caught off guard by your sudden movement. "Wait—" he started to say, but you were already halfway down the aisle.

As you reached the doors, you turned back briefly, catching a glimpse of Wooyoung's bewildered expression. A mix of regret and excitement coursed through you as the train began to slow. The doors opened with a hiss, and you stepped out onto the platform, your mind reeling from the whirlwind encounter you'd just experienced. You stood there, catching your breath as the train doors closed behind you. Your heart was still racing, not just from the rush to exit, but from the intense encounter you'd just experienced. As you watched the train pull away, you couldn't help but wonder if you'd ever see Wooyoung again, or if this magical moment would remain just that—a fleeting connection in the night.

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[thyme-in-a-bubble]

snowflakes dancing on the wind

the wistful wyvern, chapter one

a/n: this series is the second instalment i my eflorr trilogy. if you haven't already read fused with the foe, then i'd highly recommend reading that first so that you know what's going on.

summary: three years where you’d sworn off love entirely, tried to interpret it as a good thing, a gift really. You could be more productive, more focused. But now that you were home again, hearing the molasses tone of his voice and seeing the beads of sweat slowly rolling down the landscape of his body, over the ink that crawled up his left arm, you knew three years wasn’t enough to mend your heart. The rest of your life probably wasn’t long enough either. 

warnings: knight!bucky barnes x knight!reader, fantasy AU (monsters, but not much magic), original fantasy world, ex-friends to lovers, coworkers to lovers, former fuckboy!bucky, tattooed!bucky, slow burn, one-sided pinning, flashbacks, alcohol consumption, kissing, dragon attack, childbirth (with very ronja rövardotter timing), blood, weapons, violence, crying

word count: 4296

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

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TEN YEARS AGO, ON THE THIRTY-SEVENTH DAY OF WINTER 848 PR

A biting chill swirled through the echoing halls of Yoslor Penitentiary that noon when two gruff guards yanked you from your cell and dragged you to the far side wing of the prison. 

Passing countless doors, at last, they arrived at one with someone already on patrol on the outside. As a rusty key twisted in the lock with a reverberating click, the guard, still barely letting your feet skim the dirty floor, practically shoved you inside the chamber. 

As they threw you down into a cold chair and yanked at your chains to fasten them in a strong loop smelted into the stone floor by your feet, a voice suddenly caught your ears and caused your squinting eyes to flicker up. 

“Easy, boys! No need to drag her by the scruff of her neck as if she were a cat and not an eighteen-year-old girl,” you noticed the man already seated on the opposite side of the table, “would you please uncuff her?” he requested with an outstretched hand, a command, to your surprise, the guards obeyed, “thank you,” he leaned back in his seat as the manacles fell from your sore wrists. 

Rubbing the angry marks wrapped around your joints, a shiver ran through you as you saw the cloud of your exhale clear in the air. 

When the guards had settled on either side of the exit behind you, the blonde stranger opposing you tilted his head and asked, “do you know who I am?” 

“Should I know who you are?” your gaze lifted from your wrists and met his, “look man,” you sighed heavily, “if I at some point stole something from you, I don’t have it anymore. I don’t really have much of anything anymore in here,” a short and dry chuckle tied a bow on your statement. 

With his stare never straying, his chin then tilted slightly as he said, “I am Steven Grant Rogers, crown prince of Eflorr,” his title rolled off his tongue with such ease as if it didn’t have any merit at all, “and you’re Y/n Y/l/n, daughter of the famed One-eyed Ollie,” he rested his forearms against the table’s edge, “it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Blinking back at the royal, your brows furrowed softly at the mystery of why a man such as him would pay someone like you the time of day, “…alright, uh, sure.”

“We’ve kept an eye on you for a very long time, long before your father slipped away and made you take the fall for the break-in at the Sulmier estate,” your jaw couldn’t help but clench at the memory, “you’re very talented.”

“Yeah, can you just hurry up and tell me what you want?” you grunted as your knee tensely bounced beneath the table, “they’re serving soup today for supper and I��d rather not miss it.”

Huffing out what seemed like an amused breath, the prince glanced down a moment as he announced, “I have a proposition for you,” he met your gaze once more, “either you can pay for your father’s crimes here in prison or you can come work for me,” he offered slowly, “twenty years either way, but in here you will be treated as, well, essentially an animal,” his eyes briefly flicked around the cold chamber, “whereas with me you will be just as any other warden. You will have the same rights, the same opportunities, maybe even a home by the end of it.”

“���you wanna give me a job?” you squinted back at him. 

To which he simply nodded, “yes.” 

“Me?” your eyebrows only seemed to knit together tighter. 

“Like I said, you’re very talented. I could use someone of your skillset,” he then leaned back in his seat, “so, I’ll give you some time to decide,” he clasped his hands together in his lap, “if you don’t show up at Fort Borün before all the snow has melted, then let’s just say that you wouldn’t be able to get very far with the bounty there’ll be on your head.”

The heavy ivory pelts that made up your cloak billowed around your frame as the piercing wind whirled it around. You had to lean forward a bit to even make any headway in the howling blizzard that coursed around you. Icy snowflakes struck the upper part of your features that the tugged-up scarf didn’t cover. 

Squinting in the snowstorm as you crested the hill and walked under the archway, you glanced above and spotted icicles hanging from the drawn-up portcullis. 

As you glanced around the courtyard and the snow-dusted castle looming in the background, your feet soon carried you over towards a pair of bundled-up wardens posted outside a door. 

“Excuse me,” you interrupted the lewd joke one of them was halfway through telling, “could any of you–” 

But it wasn’t till the soldier to the right jumped and yelped, “ah, by Apa!” that it occurred to you just how camouflaged your frosty visage had been in the blizzard.

“Holy fuck!” the other one clutched his heart after nearly drawing the crossbow strapped to his back.

“Oh gods, sorry. Thought you were a snowman some fucking pixies had put a curse on,” the first knight, whose head was warmed by a thick knitted cap, steadied his breathing with a short laugh, “what do you need?”

Glancing between them, you asked, “could you point me in the direction of Master Tully’s office?”

“Ah,” the beanie-wearing warden nodded, “you’re a new recruit?”

Stifling a laugh, you tilted your head and huffed, “you could say that.” 

“I’ll show you,” the dark-haired one gestured, “come with me.”

“Thanks,” you offered him a small smile as he then held the door behind them open for you to enter first. 

The dining hall of the bustling barracks that you entered nearly gave you whiplash with the warm contrast it had to the freezing environment you’d just been trudging through for weeks. The fireplace down on the far wall warmed the interior and lit up the faces of the soldiers halfway through their meals. 

As you pulled back your snow-dusted hood and tugged your frosty scarf down to expose your nose and mouth, your palm attempted to brush some of the flakes off of you. 

“He’s right over there,” your guide pointed to the balding man sitting alone at a table in the corner of the chamber, before he disappeared from your side and joined some comrades on a long bench, sneakily stealing a chunk of bread from one of their bowls. 

Slowly stepping closer to the older man, hunched over some parchments as he dipped and softened a crusty piece of bread in his stew, you carefully croaked, “master Tully?”

“Aye?” he lifted his gaze to find you. 

“Hi, I was told to come talk to you,” you stepped closer and reached out your hand, “I’m Y/n, I don’t know if you–”

“Ah, yes, Y/n! Great to have you on board, lass,” his gruff hand swiftly gave yours a shake, “you must be tired after that long journey, so why don’t you grab a bowl,” he briefly pointed to the humble buffet off to the side, “have a wee rest, and then we’ll sit down and discuss everything after that, yeah?”

Offering him a light nod, you agreed, “sounds good, sir.” 

As you wandered over to fill up a bowl, Tully waved over the warden who’d shown you the way. 

“Barnes?” 

Swiftly, the soldier rose from his seat, “yes, sir?”

“Go show Y/n her quarters,” Tully returned his attention towards his stew. 

Barnes’ dark brows then knitted together, “who’s Y/n?” to which his commander simply pointed with the hand still clutching a chunk of bread, “oh…” the warden’s glance followed the trail, “right…” before raising his voice to catch your ears, “oi, snow!” you didn’t turn around even as he neared, “hey!”

Dragging the curve of a spoon from your lips when you finally noticed his stare, you finally perked up, “who, me?” and pointed to yourself. 

“Yeah you,” he didn’t slow down as he gestured for you to shadow him, “come.”

“Oh, uh,” with the bowl of stew still in your gasp, you tried not to spill as you scurried to keep up, “my name is actually Y/n,” you corrected him.

Halting his step momentarily, he turned and reached out an inked hand for you to shake, “Bucky,” a small smirk tugged at his lips as your eyes finally got the chance to wash over his visage now that his striking features weren’t veiled by a blizzard, “welcome aboard, snow.”

PRESENT DAY

You felt like somehow you should have predicted that this would be your welcome home greeting. That this striking heartbreak could have somehow been prevented if you’d only remembered when training was usually held. 

It was just rubbing salt into the wound you’d been trying so fiercely to mend. Yet, it was still there, open and festering, bleeding till you nearly passed out. You couldn’t start doing that again, purposely seeking out the salt just to feel something, just to for a single second feel good before reality settled in again. Perhaps your timing had been on purpose, perhaps your subconscious had just been so strong that it had forced you to return home right at the time that practice was held in the middle of the courtyard, and none other than Bucky stood in the centre, shirtless and glistening with sweat, as he ran the newcomers through a drill, sparring with each and every one of them till they yielded. 

You tried to get your feet to move again, you truly did, but you couldn’t keep walking past, couldn’t look away, could barely even breathe as he moved like water through the trainees.

But then suddenly, as your fiddling fingers had found the long, braided leather cord wrapped nearly a dozen times around your wrist to form a bracelet, the playful comment that left Bucky’s lips to egg the recruits on fell short, as his ocean eyes flickered up to find you, only worsening the bittersweet agony you were in.

THREE YEARS AGO, ON THE SEVENTY-SECOND DAY OF AUTUMN 855 PR

“Oh, wow,” Bucky swiftly lowered his goblet from his lips and exclaimed as his stare found you, right as you passed over the threshold and entered the bustling ballroom, “holy shit.”

Closing the short distance between you as he was standing off to the side, your skin prickled at his alarm, “what?”

“No, just–, you’re in a dress,” his gaze danced across the emerald silk draped around your form, the fabric’s shade made you stand out amidst all of the warm harvest fest decorations, “never thought I’d see the day…”

“Well, they aren’t really that practical in our line of work, so–” 

“Oh, I beg to differ…” he smirked, taking a sip of wine which by the looks of it was in no way his first cup, “I think you should always be dressed like this…” slowly stepping closer, his stare continued to lick you up in a way it never had before, “especially with a neckline as low cut as that,” as his eyes brashly dipped to your cleavage, your hand couldn’t help but shoot up to tug it up a bit more, a nervous instinct that only conjured a deep chuckle within his chest, “happy harvest fest to me.”

With cheeks burning hotter than the sun, you coughed out, “you–, uh, you look good as well.” 

“Oh, yeah?” he cheekily cocked a brow and leaned in a bit closer, causing your spine to press up against the wall behind you, “how good?” 

As your heart fluttered and nearly flew out of your chest, you heard yourself sputter, “oh, well, I mean, you always look good, you just–, uh…” your words then poofed away into nothing as he nonchalantly tugged a stray piece of hair behind your ear and let his touch linger on your heated cheek, “uhm…” 

“I just what, snow?” he purred, and you swore you saw his gaze flicker down to your lips. 

“You–… you–…” 

But before your wildest dreams could come true, an individual accidentally bumped into Bucky and lodged him far enough away from you to snuff out your hopes of the taste of his lips. 

“Wow,” the guy briefly clapped Bucky’s wide shoulder, “sorry, mate.”

“It’s alright,” he smiled as the fella went on his way. Raising up his goblet for another sip, he then turned his attention back to you, “so,” his grin was still bright on his features, “you gonna let me dance with you tonight?” 

“Dance?” your eyes grew wide, “oh, y-yeah,” you tried your best, though still failed to sound casual, “sure, if you want to.”

“Great,” he held your gaze a moment longer before saying, “I’m gonna go grab another drink, you want anything?” 

“No thanks, I’m good,” though there was now a decent enough distance betwixt you two, you still stood virtually plastered against the wall. 

“Alright,” he breathed as he began to back up, offering your gown one last glance before he disappeared, “that dress…” his head gently shook from side to side as a long exhale flowed from his lungs, “gods, you look way too hot tonight, it’s not fair.”

When his visage was no longer in sight, you slumped down a bit and took a generous breather, the grin on your face nearly making your cheeks ache. 

After your pulse had settled back from the nervous butterfly he had transformed it into, a fellow warden spotted you and shouted. 

“Hey, Y/n!” he waved for you to come over and join the little cluster he was on the edge of, “you’re still here! I thought you’d left already with lord fancy pants or whatever.”

“Lord Witherington, and yeah, it’s first in the morning that the ship leaves port,” you walked up to him. 

“Well, at least you get to enjoy one last harvest fest extravaganza before becoming a babysitter.”

“Hey, he is doing important research up in Efira, in areas that haven’t been explored since Rimesunder’s demise,” you raised a slightly defensive hand as you noted the historical significance, “it’s an honour to protect him.”

“Yeah, yeah, honour and all that crap,” he sighed light-heartedly as he raised his mug up to his lips, “but you still have time to get seriously fucked up tonight.”

“So that I can be both seasick and hungover tomorrow?”

“So that you can for once cut loose and have one last fun night before you leave!” 

Marinating on his point a moment, your thoughts couldn’t help but float away to Bucky. 

What if tonight was the night? What if you just finally took the leap and told him how you felt? 

Then, like a clock arm clicking into the new hour, you made your decision. 

“Give me that,” you grabbed the drink out of his hands before he could take another sip. 

“Wow, that’s what I’m talking about,” the soldier cheered as you swiftly downed the strong brew, “yeah!”

“Gods,” your face screwed up when you swallowed the last gulp, “that’s disgusting. What is that?”

“My uncle’s mead.”

“Urgh,” the sickly sweet taste burned on your tongue. 

“Yeah, he’s not that good at it,” he accepted the mug as you passed it back in his grasp, “but it’ll sure get you pissed in two sips or less.”

Hoping that the half tankard you’d downed would grant you the courage you sought, you glanced around the ballroom, “I gotta–, uh, did you see where Buck went?” and when he then pointed out towards the main hallway, you offered him a small smile, “thanks,” before disappearing down that way. 

You felt like you were gonna be sick as you walked through the crowds. But if it was from the nerves or the mead that was already making you dizzy, that you weren’t sure of. 

As you searched the castle, carefully poking your head into drawing rooms and narrow hallways, you found yourself anxiously muttering just beneath your breath. 

“…I just thought you should know that I like you–, no, not like that…” you shook your head at your tongue-tied attempt at figuring out how you’d profess to him, “James, I have been in love with you since the day I met yo­u–, no, that’s stupid, I never call him James, that would just be weird–” 

Your murmuring then hushed as you turned down a secluded hallway and spotted the very warden that you had combed the palace for, down towards the end of it. 

The only thing was, he wasn’t alone.

Sliding deeper into the shadows, you couldn’t spare yourself the heartache and not look. 

Bucky’s lips were attached to the long neck of some leggy blonde. Her quiet whimpers echoed against the fortress walls as he felt her up and surely littered her skin with heated lavender marks. 

Suddenly, they shifted, turning till Bucky’s back was pressed up against the walls and, to your surprise, now no longer obscured by his bulky physique, another lady, a redhead, appeared beside the hickey-adored one. 

“So,” the redhead bit her lip as she slid her palm down to pet the palpable tent in his pants, “are you gonna show us to your chambers or what?”

“Yes,” he breathlessly nodded, “yes I am,” before seizing their hands, “right this way,” they then stumbled further down the dark hallway till they disappeared from your sight, leaving you frozen in the engulfing shadows with tears silently streaming down your face. 

PRESENT DAY

“Snow?” his eyes grew as wide as his grin, “gods, it is you!” Bucky then all but forgot about the training session he was in the middle of teaching and crossed the courtyard, “it’s really you!” once his brisk stride reached you, he plucked you up into his brawny arms and spun you around, “you’re back!” 

As soon as your feet touched the ground again, you took a large step back, though hated how the distance gave you a better view of his naked torso.

“Hi, Bucky,” you uttered, readjusting the bag strung over your back. 

Why did his touch still have to make your heart flutter? 

“Three years,” he placed a wide palm on your shoulder, “three fucking years!”

Three years where you’d sworn off love entirely, tried to interpret it as a good thing, a gift really. You could be more productive, more focused. But now that you were home again, hearing the molasses tone of his voice and seeing the beads of sweat slowly rolling down the landscape of his body, over the ink that crawled up his left arm, you knew three years wasn’t enough to mend your heart. The rest of your life probably wasn’t long enough either. 

“Yeah, you–, uh,” you swallowed the thickness of emotions that peeked through in your tone, “you grew a beard.” 

“And you still look exactly the same…” his gaze washed over you as a soft sigh flowed from his lungs, “gods, I’ve missed you,” he then tilted his head and asked, “you missed me?”

“I–,” blinking back into the stormy sea of his eyes, you felt your frame begin to tremble at the feelings that were still as alive as ever, “uhm…” averting your gaze, you had to get away before everything burst, “I need to go report to the king,”

“Oh, yeah, right,” his electric touch slid from your shoulder, “last I saw, he and the queen were in the blue drawing room. You haven't met her yet! She’s kind, you’ll like her.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” you refused to look back at him as you turned towards the main entrance to the castle. 

And as you began to walk away, you heard his voice call after you, “really is good to have you back, snow!”

Nearly ripping the door off its hinges, a fleeting gasp escaped you as you saw the queen by the open window, shooting arrows after the beast that whirled outside. 

“Your majesty,” you exclaimed as your eyes briefly flickered to her pregnant belly, “there you are!” you then swiftly crossed the room to yank open the small servant’s door, “this way!” 

Reluctantly, the royal stepped back from the window, smoke and ash gushing into the castle from the opening, and followed you up the revealed stone spiral staircase. 

As you rushed up the tower, your glances didn’t just dart back to the queen, only a few paces behind you, but every time you passed one of the narrow windows, your vision couldn’t help but catch the chaos down below.

The stubborn dragon, that had plagued the town of Borün for two whole years now, had returned. 

With daggers still tight in your grasp, you tried not to think about the people you knew to be down there in the fray, wonder if they had all been burned to a crisp, but instead attempted to shake it off and focus on your mission at hand. The king had commanded you to flee the fight and protect his wife and unborn child. 

A glint of fire reflected in the queen’s eyes as you glanced back at her to find her pace halted and her palm clutched on her stomach as she stifled a groan. 

“My queen,” you dropped back down a step closer to her, “are you–”

“I’m fine,” she waved you off and drew in a shaky breath, “keep going, I’m right behind you.”

Soon at the top of the tower, you pushed the door open and held it for the noble to enter, your glance though darting out the window as she passed. 

But when a low groan seeped from her throat, your gaze darted back to her with worry, “alright, that really doesn’t sound that good,” the door slammed behind you as you sheathed your weapons and stepped closer to her, “did you get hurt?”

“No, I’m–, ah! I’m alright,” she uttered through gritted teeth, her eyes squeezed shut as one hand reached out for the wall while the other stayed on her belly, “fuck…” 

Glancing down towards her hand as it rubbed in slow, soothing circles, your eyes then widened, “are you–… your majesty, a-are you–”

“In labour?” her eyes barely opened as she met your tense gaze, “yeah. My waters broke a while ago.”

“Oh gods!” now you truly wished you’d just stayed down with the dragon, “now? Here? I–, I–, wha–, can’t you just turn it off?”

Letting both her quiver and bow slide off her frame and drop to the floor, she let out a strained exhale, “not really how it works.” 

“I–, I–, okay, I don’t know what to do–”

“That’s fine,” her arm then reached out for your support, “I do,” you carefully helped her further into the chamber before she sank down a wall till she was seated on the floor, her pale yellow gown bunching around her legs, “alright, I’m gonna need one of your knives when its time to cut the umbilical cord.”

“O-okay,” eyes still wide, you checked your belt just in case they’d mysteriously disappeared in your panic. 

Noticing the terrified expression on your face, the queen’s head tilted slightly as she said, “Y/l/n, please don’t pass out on me, I need you here with me.”

“No, no, I’m not gonna pass out,” you rushed to reply, though weren’t completely convinced yourself, “I just–, w-what do I do? Do I do anything?”

Raising up her fingers, she panted, “take my hand.”

“Alright, yes, of course,” you swiftly grabbed her palm. 

You had no idea how much time passed, if your hand would eventually fall off for how hard she was squeezing it, or even how many times the royal’s groans, which threatened to morph into screams, reverberated off the palace walls and mixed with the chaos rumbling from outside. 

Then suddenly, an echo shot through the castle, “dove!” and though she couldn’t find it in her to yell back, the familiar voice visibly thawed something within the queen. 

“Up here!” you yelled as loudly as you could. 

Swiftly, the door was kicked down, and in stormed a honey-haired man, whose bloodstained shield and stout axe promptly dropped to the floor with a loud clang. 

“Steve!” the queen cried out through the relieved smile that softened her pained expression, “you’re here!”

“Yeah,” he looked as if a feather could have knocked him over, “I’m here, I’m here,” the king then rushed to switch places with you, kneeling beside his wife and clutching her hand in both of his, “what fucking timing our daughter has,” a soft chuckle bubbled out of him as he bought the back of her palm up to his lips and planted a chased peck upon it, “not even born yet and she already wants to join the fray,” he uttered, conjuring a slight laugh to crack through her pain, “a real fighter, just like her mom.”

Gazing up at him, a sombreness suddenly washed over her features as she then murmured, “my love, if I don’t–”

“No,” he swiftly cut her off, “that’s not gonna happen, you hear me? History won’t repeat itself, you’ve done everything in your power to make that so. You can do this, dove. I know you can.” 

He held her hand through it all, took the sting as each one of her nails broke his skin and every ear-piercing curse she threw at him, till a new life was suddenly in the room, laying against the exposed skin on her mother’s chest and wailing about the sudden change in scenery.

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[delirious-donna]

Chapter 1: The Perfect Home

pairing: vamp!Kakashi Hatake x female reader

No, this would be a long game and no fleeting meeting in a dark alleyway to alleviate the gnawing hunger in his stomach. You were not instant gratification. Cunning was required and he relished the thought of the chase that would be born from it.

The house was perfect. Love at first sight. A long abandoned stately home would be the perfect place to plant your roots and focus on your writing. There's only one problem... someone already lives there, and they can't wait to meet you.

wc: 3.4k

tw: vampire AU, smut/suggestive throughout, strangers to lovers, talk of blood, minor mention of suicide and parental loss, slight pervert Kakashi, dream sexy times, heavy(ish) petting, this will be the most tame part and I am not sorry for how jam packed full of smut this story will be, reader described as curvy

Masterlist (coming soon) | Part Two (coming soon)

Moving would never not be exhausting.

You panted heavily, dropping the box in your arms to the floor with a heavy thud that sent a flurry of ancient dust motes into the air. There were so many boxes still to be moved, and the thought alone pulled a groan of fatigue from your chest.

It would have been so much easier had you chosen a cute little apartment to move into, but no, you had fallen head over heels in love with a musty, dusty old mansion located in the arse end of nowhere. That alone spoke volumes about your personality—your desire to buck the norm and set your own path in life.

Imagination and creativity flowed through your veins like the very blood that continued your existence, and of course, when you came across the dilapidated mansion on one of your evening strolls, it would be love at first sight.

It was difficult to describe the immediate pull you felt towards the building as you gazed longingly at the high arched windows on the top floor, but it was right there in your chest, and you couldn’t deny it. Maybe it was the author in you that resonated with the now empty residence—imaging the place in its glory days and who might have called the place home.

There was no doubt that it had once been a majestic property, and it wasn’t at all hard to picture the gilded edges of the steep roof unbroken and sparkling in the last rays of the setting sun. The dark charcoal of the solid stone walls strong and unblemished and the ornately twisted wrought iron of the balcony railing a pretty addition to lean against and enjoy the summer breeze.

Heavy purple drapes still hung in the windows, and it gave the sense of someone or something wishing to hide from prying eyes despite being abandoned for so many decades.

Curious…

A ‘For Sale’ sign lay slumped against a mighty oak tree that resided just within the fearsome looking gates of the property, appearing as if it had been listed on the market for a considerably lengthy period without any interest.

You had to admit that the wickedly sharp spikes atop the gate might seem unappealing to some, but to you, it was simply another puzzle piece that intrigued you even more. Intrigued enough to pull out the notepad you kept tucked away in your purse for just such times. Normally, you used it to capture bursts of writing inspiration that struck at weird times, tonight you scribbled down the realtor details listed on the sun-bleached board.

When you finally turned to resume your walk home, the mesmerising spell of the house at last breaking enough to release you from your silent gazing, a shadow flitted across your vision from the tallest window. It was gone before you could refocus your gaze, a sharp intake of breath caught in your throat whilst an indescribable sensation swept through you.

It caused the hairs on your arms and the back of your neck stand to attention, on alert for anything further. The moment dragged on, eyes fixed upon the window in question and your heart thundering in your chest. Was it a trick of the light or was your brain trying to convince you of things that simply were not there?

After the longest time, you moved away but the further you got from the house, the more you felt as if the place tried to call to you—trying to sway you back with a kind of magic you couldn’t comprehend.

~

The realtor had been rightly dumbfounded with your insistence of purchasing the property without asking for a full tour of the estate. They simply couldn’t realise how hypnotised you were with the place and that there was likely nothing that would sway you away from the decision to own the house.

When they realised you were a cash buyer—an impatient one at that—they became far more accommodating to your wishes.

According to the realtor, the property had previously belonged to the Hatake family, and it had been considered their ancestral home.

The Hatakes were a wealthy family with their hands both firmly into agriculture and the farming of the surrounding lands, dirtied by fertile soil and the sweat of hardwork. Those once rich farmlands now made up much of the nearby metropolis, where nothing fresh or green grew without a planning permit and enough paperwork to drown a person.

They had prospered well over a century and a half ago until a series of tragedies befell the family and ultimately resulted in their demise.

The biggest ink stain on the Hatake history was the tragic life and disappearance of the last born Hatake. The details of which were apparently still largely a mystery in these parts. It was a local story, and one that you had not previously heard of, but the realtor was more than happy to tell the tale for you.

The story went that the son departed the mansion one day after losing his father to suicide and had not returned. His mother had passed away during childbirth and with the only son missing, the house fell into silence and disrepair. Eventually, the bank became the owners by default and the property had stood uninhabited for nearly a century.

How could you not find that intriguing?

From there it was an easy descent into a rabbit hole of theories—considering the potential outcomes of this mysterious missing Hatake and wondering over the details of the apparent suicide of his father.

Your heart tugged for the young man, what a horrific set of events for any person to endure. Part of you could well understand why he may wish to disappear and hoped it hadn’t been as nefarious as the realtor tried to portray.

What you didn’t know at that point, but would soon discover, was that the missing Hatake had long since returned to his family home, and he was more than looking forward to introducing himself to you.

~

Kakashi Hatake, the rightful heir and owner of this property, paced the cramped room in endless agitation. He was not used to such confined spaces, having previously roamed his home freely since his return. In fact, he loathed to feel trapped. It had a way of bringing up unwanted memories and soured his mood.

His instincts were drowning him in unfamiliar sensations, his physical body reacting to the lone female presence that was so close and yet still so far. His headache only grew brighter behind his eyes whilst he continued to fight against his normal compulsion to rest during the daylight hours—hiding from the sun.

Running a hand through his unruly silver hair, he managed a deep steadying breath to regain his composure. He recalled the rage that had consumed him not even a few hours ago with a tight grimace and barely leashed growl. He was never going to react well to the presence of two men in his home, even if they were only carrying furniture into the various rooms whilst his new guest directed them cheerily.

He had not been pleased by their being there at all, yet he knew it was a necessity of the transition. Despite his best efforts at rationalisation, he continued to direct his awareness to pay close attention to the moving men. His mind was running riot at the mere thought of what perverse things a young female, such as yourself, could fall victim to by their grubby hands if given the chance.

How perfectly hypocritical of him.

The razor-sharp, elongated points of his fangs sank heavily into his bottom lip whilst he contemplated on all the perverse things, he wanted to do to you, and he hopefully would do, soon.

This was one of his favourite fantasies come to life, the pages of his well-thumbed romance novels becoming a reality that he was living, and the thought was a very pleasant one. It shamed him to do so, but Kakashi pressed his palm down on the front of his pants, the fabric far tighter and restricting on his growing erection than he wanted to admit.

He was a monster.

Kakashi’s hunger was practically palpable, nostrils flaring wide as he scented the delicate and intoxicating fragrance of your blood. It wafted easily to him as you wandered your new home, carrying boxes and examining the contents at leisure. Kakashi could only describe it as sweet with a hint of spice, akin to hot honey and he absently licked at his lips. Despite having taken precautions against this very situation, the blood from the previous evening had not been anywhere near sufficient to quell the thirst that was manifesting rapidly.

He couldn’t quite place his finger on it, but he knew, deep down, that you were somehow different. The realisation did as much to terrify him as it did to excite.

Kakashi was a vampire, an old one at that, and it had been a long time since he felt any sliver of fear. He was the thing to be feared, not some alluring young woman he didn’t even know—yet.

Thinking back to the night where he had first sensed your presence, he let a small smile curl the very corners of his lips. It was intriguing to recall how his body had seemingly moved of its own accord that evening, feet pulling him over to the small gap in the curtained window like a puppet connected to strings made of blood red thread.

A lone figure stood just outside the gate, watching and longing for something… for this house, his house.

Dressed in an oversized hooded sweater and tight navy jeans he had tsked grumpily at the standard of modern fashion. When had tight bodices and skirts with layers upon layers of petticoats gone out of style? A shame, truly.

However, he could at least tell that you were curvy even beneath the baggy material that tried to hide that very fact, and your hips had that lovely roundness that he was particularly fond of.

He hadn’t been ready for you to leave when you first showed signs of departing, a hand reaching out to touch the glass separating you both without thought.

The suggestion had been thrown before he could stop himself. The result, your head whipped back around to stare intently at the window, the one he was watching you from. It was his fault, and he silently cursed at how easily he had been able to steal inside your mind and implant the idea that a shadow had passed through your vision when it had not.  

Your name whispered to him in that moment, causing an unbidden grin to widen across his face. You were in love with this house—his home—and Kakashi chuckled quietly whilst planning his next set of moves.

He released your mind without further incident, allowing you to slip into the warm summer evening rather than listening to the urge to pursue you into the darkness as he was his instinct.

No, this would be a long game and no fleeting meeting in a dark alleyway to alleviate the gnawing hunger in his stomach. You were not instant gratification. Cunning was required and he relished the thought of the chase that would be born from it.

~

Finally, after a gruellingly long day of strenuous work, you threw yourself atop your plush bed. Your back sinking deep into the soft as a marshmallow comforter. It had been one of the very first things you unpacked after assembling your new bed, quickly followed by your toiletries and you silently praised yourself for that genius forethought.

Waves of fatigue hit you at full force, followed by a deep yawn that rattled your ribs. It was going to be a big adjustment going from a pokey little one bed apartment to a large and empty mansion, and most of your friends thought you to be mad to take on such a project but they couldn’t see the potential that you could. 

However, one thing you had not fully anticipated was the noises that accompanied the house.

You would swear that the floorboards creaked only to torment you at your most vulnerable moments, and the sound of the old pipes being used for the first time in decades was enough to fray the last of your nerves.

This was far more unnerving than you imagined, a far cry from being scared in your old apartment where in the worst case you could run to the neighbours you trusted. Out here the nearest house was a good ten minutes away by foot, you were alone, and it spooked you.

After a frustratingly tense soak in the beautiful claw-footed porcelain tub in your ensuite bathroom, you exited squeaky clean and no longer smelling of musty curtains. You grabbed the nearest clean clothes you could reach, happy to curl up in anything as long as it was fresh and smelled familiar.

The oversized grey t-shirt covered your underwear and dropped down to your knees, the fabric soft from years of wearing and it smelled like home, a welcome thought on this particular night.

Tomorrow was going to be another full-on day. You needed to rise with the sun if you were to make the most of it for unpacking and the deep clean that many of the rooms needed before they were habitable.

With that in mind, you slid beneath the thick duvet and rubbed your cheek sleepily against the pillows. It wasn’t long before sleep claimed you like a coveted possession, and you drifted into a seemingly peaceful slumber.

It would not last…

~

The sound of your name whispered against the shell of your ear, floating on a wind that whipped softly around your consciousness. It prodded delicately at your sleeping form and watched with glee when you turned to press your face deeper into the pillow, slipping into a dream that would be like no other.

All was dark.

Everything was still and unmoving, a tremor of trepidation rippled through your mind. You became aware of your form quite suddenly, blinking as if out of a dream and into a reality, but you would not be fooled so easily.

Glancing down you could see the oversized shirt you’d pulled on before clambering into bed and your bare toes even lower still, wiggling against a hardwood floor.

You tried to raise your hand, to feel the fabric of your shirt between your fingertips but the action felt heavy… restricted… like wading through thick treacle. Warm breath caressed your neck, jolting you out of your confusion and leaving your heart thundering in your chest. It was gone as soon as it had appeared, and you longed to close your eyes, but fear kept them wide and watching.

Again, without warning, a black gloved hand appeared and touched the flare of your hip as if someone stood behind you, yet you couldn’t sense anyone there.

All you could do was watch as the strong fingers pinched the material of your top, much like you had wanted to, until it twisted in their grip. A low grunt of disapproval floated in the air around you, disembodied and clearly irritated, followed by a masculine voice which made your body quiver.

“You should be in satins, silks, lace.”

There was something immediately attraction about the voice, something you couldn’t quite put your finger on. Yes, you were trembling with fear of the unknown, quaking on the spot, but there was a deep secret part of your psyche that felt a rush of exhilaration.

A quiet hum sounded by your ear, a wave of warm breath fanning over your neck and the gloved hand reappeared higher up your body. The index finger ghosted the curve of your jaw, not touching yet close enough that it almost felt like it was. It was impossible to suppress the whimper leaving your mouth, and it was followed by a request made by the stranger.

“Will you let me… touch you more?” The disembodied voice asked, sounding like hot honey dripping your spine. Just breathless enough that your skin prickled pleasantly.

You swallowed, throat working hard whilst your sensible brain warred with the spontaneous part that demanded, “what’s the worst that could happen?”

A ‘yes’ almost tipped your tongue, if only to find out exactly what might happen, but you had a concession to add firstly. “If you make yourself known, then… yes.”

A chuckle tickled your ear.

You could feel the air behind you ripple with power that felt ancient and foreign, and without turning, you knew there was someone standing there now. It made you antsy, your fingers wriggling in want to reach back and feel what was there. Surely a foolish idea given your inability to run.

“I won’t hurt you, little one. Consider this a safe space, and if you tell me no, I will listen,” he reassured unprompted.

Perhaps he could hear your heart as it ricocheted around your ribcage or feel the itchy tightness in your limbs. Whatever it was, you appreciated the candour and took it for truth, no matter how crazy it was to do so.

The wet muscle of your tongue passed over your lips, wetting them thoroughly and giving your consent with a single nod of your head. It was all it took for the presence at your back to pull you into their chest, hands around your upper arms without exerting pressure, fingertips tracing soothing circles into the skin below the sleeves of your shirt.

He was tall, with a strong chest that you were content to rest against. You had expected his body to feel hot like his breath had on your neck, but he was surprising cool given the circumstances.

His head dipped over the curve of your shoulder and tufts of silver hair entered your periphery. Your eyebrows pinched at the wet marks he left over your neck, seemingly drawn time and again back to the wildly beating thrum of your pulse.

Despite the coolness of his body, his lips were far from cold, and they spread wildfire into your veins without restraint. Never had something felt so wrong but entirely right at the same time.

It took you a long moment to notice that his other arm had wound around your front, the equally gloved hand exploring you with a touch that was as careful as it was eager. Long, slender fingers gripped at your hip, kneading at the curve of your waist, and even dared to drift higher to softly paw at the weight of your breasts.

He continued until your nipples stiffened beneath the thin cotton, your head falling back when he pinched the bud between finger and thumb, the friction intensifying in the pit of your belly.

“I have no doubt that you taste divine.” The stranger whispered against your neck, barely audible over the pounding of your heart.

Whilst you had always enjoyed stories about faceless strangers luring women into fantasy situations, never had you thought it would be you. You reminded yourself that this was a dream and nothing more, a concoction created by a fatigue addled brain. Yet, it was hard to remember that when you felt as if he was drawing closer and closer to touching you below the waist.

With a newfound sense of confidence, you swayed your hips to press yourself further back into the frame behind you. Ignoring the flare of danger ringing in the back of your mind.

Ringing… right.

Now you thought about it there was a ringing building in your ears.

It was irritating.

An incessant buzz in your head that turned everything around you to static.

You felt him stiffen, a loud exhale of angry breath blowing strands of your hair across your shoulder. His roaming hands paused, and an intimidating growl made you shudder.

“Dammit!” He yelled angrily, and you instinctively knew it was uncharacteristic of your mystery man. “I’ve not had long enough with you…”

There was no time to ponder any of what had happened, or the feeling that you knew this man in some way. Your fingers shot up to wrap around his wrist, a desperate act to hold on but it was like trying catch smoke.

The blaring ring of an alarm clock ripped you from his grasp and back into consciousness. Back into the comfort and safety of your bed.

Blinking and confused as to why you wanted to stay… but where and with who?

[twice-inamillion]

The Company

Caught

Angst (major life event, caught lying, depression)

Chapter 9

 2,430 Words 

(The unexpected happened. Now, Miyeon has to deal with the consequences of her actions that might impact everyone around her.)

“Come on, just one kiss.”

“I don't know, oppa. I don't want to get in trouble.”

Don't worry, no one is going to see us.”

“Okay, just one kiss.”

“See, it wasn't too bad. When do you think I can see you?”

“I don't know. The company is pretty strict, and my teammates and I are busy. I basically had to lie for them to let me out.”

“I really want to see you again.”

“Same, I miss spending time with you.”

“Click. Click.”

Unbeknownst to the couple, their little randevu will have long-lasting effects on both of them, especially Miyeon.

“Seems like someone is going to have a bad day tomorrow,” as the person across the street watches from the shop nearby.

The next day, Irene walks to her office after a long day of practice the day before. As she opens the door, she sees an envelope, picks it up, and places it on the table.

Seated, she tried to find an address but found nothing that would reveal who the sender was. She opens it and pulls out a card with a note saying, “Seems like the company doesn't know how to manage their trainees and stop them from dating.”

Irene opens the folded sheet of paper and sees a clear picture of Cho Miyeon, one of the trainees she personally manages, kissing a boy. Many things go through her mind and the last thing she needs is a scandal of the CEO’s upcoming girl group before their debut. Luckily, they haven't been confirmed, and he says, “I need to take care of this before it gets any worse.”

Meanwhile, Miyeon is running on the treadmill when she receives a message. She sees the name of Irene, her recruiter and the one in charge of her group. She thinks it's an update of her group's schedules and opens it, only to get a vague message, “Would like to meet with you in my office at 10 AM today.” Curious, she finishes her run and heads to her dorm to shower before her appointment.

“Knock, Knock. It's Miyeon.”

“Come in. Take a seat.”

“Thank you.”

“How are you adjusting to your group? Are you getting along with your members?”

“Yes, the girls and II are getting along well. We are so excited to debut.”

“Hmm, how are things going personally? Are you feeling stressed or worried?”

“Just a bit tired, but nothing more than the usual?”

“That's good. Do you have feedback or anything you want to share?”

No, the company has been great so far. I really appreciate it.”

“Are you sure?”

“Hmm, I think so.”

Irene tries to hide her irritated expression but can't comprehend why the person in front of her is lying straight to her face. “Then what about this?” as she takes over a folder and places the picture on the table.

“I don't know what this is.”

“Lies, this is you breaking one of the rules of your contract with us.”

Miyeon tries to think of what to say but can't think of any excuse and bursts into tears. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hide it. I'll break it off; I promise not to do it again.”

“That's not going to work. You broke an important rule. I don't think this is going to work between us moving forward.”

“Wait, you don't mean...”

“I'm going to ask you to get your belongings and meet me back tomorrow for off-boarding.”

“Please, don't do this, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to cause any trouble. I'll make it up; I'll work harder, just give me one chance. We're so close to debuting,” says Miyeon as she cries and pleads. 

“You shouldn't hide the fact that you were dating; maybe if you told me, I could have been more lenient. Don't make this any harder, I don't want to blacklist you.”

“But... “

“Leave, I'm very disappointed in you.”

With her hands covering her face, she exits Irene's office and runs to the elevator. She puts her hood up and covers her face as she tries to exit the building and make it to her apartment. 

“Hey Miyeon! Are you done for the day?”

“Sorry, I can't talk now,” says Miyeon as she tries not to let one of her trainee friends see her crying. She speed walks all the way to her room and lays on the bed crying until she falls asleep. 

“Hey, Miyeon, wake up. You missed practice.” Slowly, she wakes up from her exhausting nap and sees Rose touching her shoulder. 

“Hey, Rosie.”

“What happened?”

“They kicked me out,” as she begins to bawl again. 

“Why? Who kicked you out? From the group?”

“No, from the company.”

“Wait, let me get the rest of the girls. Maybe we can figure something out, but don't cry.”

“Hmm, okay.”

Rose steps out and heads to the other room where Jennie, Jisoo, and Lisa are hanging out. “Miyeon is crying, she said that they kicked her out of the company!”

The members rush into the other and see Miyeon lying down, crying her eyes out. “What happened, Miyeon?” asks Lisa. 

“Irene unnie called me into her office and they were kicking me out.”

“Why?”

“Apparently, someone took a picture of me with the boy I began dating before joining.”

“Why, Miyeon? I told you to break it off. Why didn't you listen to me?” said Jisoo.

“I didn't think they would find out. I haven't seen him since joining. Yesterday was the first time seeing him.”

“What's going to happen now?” asks Rose.

“I begged Irene to give me another chance, but all she told me was that I would collect my things by tomorrow.”

“I didn't think they would risk separating us before our debut,” said Lisa.

“What do you think is going to happen with us?” asks Jisoo.

Rose, trying to change the mood, says, “Maybe we can talk to the CEO about it and explain the situation. We can say that she won't do it again and will break up with him. We need to debut.”

“I'll contact Oppa and see if he can get us in touch with the CEO,” says Jennie.

The rest of the girls nod as Jennie heads to her room and calls you. 

The phone rings, and you see that it's from your newest toy. You let the phone ring until you get multiple messages, “Oppa, please answer; it's urgent.”

“Alright, what does this girl want?” as you get your phone to call her back. 

“Oppa, you finally answer!”

“What's the urgency?”

“Miyeon got kicked out of the group by Irene!”

”What do you mean kicked out?”

”Can I meet with you?”

”I get back in an hour.”

”Okay, I'll see you at your apartment.”

You get off the phone with Jennie and immediately call for Irene to come to your office. “Irene, come to my office immediately!”

”Yes, sir!” 

It only takes a minute for you to hear Irene knock at your door before coming inside. “You need something, sir?”

”Can you explain why you kicked Miyeon off the group?”

Irene hesitates to answer, trying to figure out what to say, “I wanted to take care of things before letting you know, but since you are already aware, I’ll explain the situation. 

“Go on.”

”Well, I received proof of Mieyon breaking one of the company’s rules. She hid the fact that she was dating someone and was caught.” Irene pulls out her phone and shows you the picture of Miyeon kissing and holding hands with someone.

”Fuck….”

”I called her to my office and came to the conclusion that it would be best for her and the company to part ways, thus kicking her out of the group as well.”

”I thought you did a thorough background check with all the trainees, especially with them.”

”I thought I did, sir. If I knew, I would have done something about it beforehand.”

”What are we going to do now? The group is scheduled to debut this year, and now they have one member down.”

“I’m sorry, sir. It’s my fault, I take full responsibility.”

”You should. Maybe I should disband your group as well.”

”No, sir. Anything but that. My members have practiced so hard, you can’t do that to them.”

”These girls were going to be my first girl group, so now look at them.”

“So what would you like to do?”

”Not sure. I’ll come up with something.”

---------

Jennie receives a text message and opens it, “Don’t come to my apartment. I know the whole situation. Can’t talk about it now, but some more information will soon come to you.”

Jennie is disappointed that she couldn’t do anything and tries to comfort Miyeon when all their phones go off. Then, they grab their phones and read the following message: “All members are required to attend the emergency meeting at the conference room at 9 AM tomorrow.” They all look at each other, worried and thinking the worst. 

“Are we disbanding?”

----------

The girls arrive early to the meeting and wait for the news of their disbandment as a group. They look at the clock hung up on the wall as it approaches 9 o’clock sharp. 

They see Irene walk and open the door of the conference room, “Thank you for meeting with me today. I’ll be hosting the meeting today. Miyeon, if you could head to the CEO’s office, he would like to speak with you.

The members look at Miyeon as she stands up and exits the door to meet the CEO for the first time.

”Alright, let's start the meeting. I’m sure you all are aware of why you are here. I won’t waste anyone’s time and just let you all know that moving forward, this group will only consist of you four…”

”What? What about Miyeon?” asks Jennie.

”She will no longer be part of your group. I can’t go over more details of her situation but she’ll need to move from your apartment immediately.”

“But…”

”Let me finish.”

”Okay.”

”You five were scheduled to debut at the end of the year, but now that there are only four members, things will be a bit different. Your positions will change, and your debut date will be pushed back.”

”Wait! We were supposed to be the company’s first girl group to debut. This isn’t fair!” shouts Rose. 

“It was this or scrap the team as a whole and start over. Would you like that instead?”

“No, “ says Rose as she quiets down.

”This was something that the CEO thought was best and had minimal impact on the group.”

Irene goes on to explain more about the changes that will occur with the group. 

----------

On the other hand, Miyeon stands in front of the CEO’s office and knocks at the door. She hears a response, opens the door, and is surprised to see you sitting behind a large desk. 

“Oppa?”

”Sit down, Miyeon.”

”Okay.”

”You may know me as one of the staff members, but my true position in the company is CEO. I’m here to discuss your position in our company. You already know the details of the reason why you are here, and I won’t argue with you about it since Irene has already talked to you about it, right?”

”Yes, she did.”

”So here is what we decided to do with you. You will leave the group you are currently in and the apartment you are sharing with them. I went over your file and saw that you have a promise as an idol, so I decided not to kick you out of the company itself. Instead, I'm offering you a position as a junior assistant to Irene; of course, it would be that or leave the company itself, your choice.”

“But doesn't Irene hate me?”

“That doesn't matter. Sometimes, you need to work with people you don't like or don't like you. So what's it going to be?”

“I'll do it. Is there still a chance for me to be an idol?”

“That is up to you.”

-----------

“I know this will be a change for you all, but I hope you make the best of it. It's up to you four if you debut as a group or not. Do you understand?”

“Yes, we understand.”

“Okay, you can all leave.”

The members exited and texted Miyeon but got no reply. They head back to their apartment, and when they open the door, they see Miyeon’s things missing. 

“Let's check the room.”

They see the door slightly open, push it, and see Miyeon's side completely emptied out.

“She's gone.”

Jisoo notices a folded sheet of paper and opens it, “Look, she left something.”

“Read it it, unnie.”

“I'm sorry to leave without saying goodbye, but if I did, I don't think I would have been able to let you girls go. I'm sorry for all the trouble I've caused and hope you can debut without any problems. I'll cherish all the memories we've made and will cheer for you four. 

Thank you so much,

Cho Miyeon”

--------

It’s been a few days since Miyeon left the group. The members have tried messaging her but to no avail. They continue their practice, but this time, as a four-member group, they try their best not to listen to any of the rumors that the other trainees in the company spread behind their backs. 

Miyeon wakes up early in the morning and prepares for her first day as junior assistant to Irene. She wears a semi-business casual outfit and makes her way to the office. 

“Good morning, Irene.”

”Miyeon.”

”What would you like me to do?”

”Read this,” as Irene tossed a manual onto the desk. “Make sure to get yourself familiarized. We don’t want another incident, right?”

”No, ma’am.”

”Good, because I will make sure there are no second chances. Now, get to reading.”

Miyeon spends more of the day reviewing the material for her new position within the company. The concept of having time for friends or even a boyfriend is now a faraway dream. Her goal now is to do her best with the second change you gave her. 

Miyeon looks outside the office window and sees her former members walking together; all she can do now is cherish the beautiful memories she made with them, her sisters. 

[smok3r7]

They Always Come Back

Aaron Hotchner x f!reader 

Explicit, 18+ 

Butterflies & Broken Glass

 Main Masterlist & Series Masterlist - My AO3

Summary: You and Aaron met in college, Criminology Major, funny enough. Throughout your five years at George Washington College, you and Hotchner had this on and off again relationship; it was all fun until you started to realize that you loved him. After graduation the two of you cut ties and left it as dumb college love, going your separate ways. After a decade you finally land your dream job, a seat at the BAU; however when you notice the name copied on the email, you can’t believe your eyes.

Chapter Summary: Moving on isn’t always the easiest and honestly takes a long time. But does it ever get better when old wounds get ripped open? 

Word count: 3k

—

 “So,” your mom starts “Are you ready to talk ‘bout, you know, it?” 

   The sound of her knife hitting the cutting board after slicing through a carrot pierces your ears. You don’t answer her, you continue to peel the batch of potatoes and carrots that sit in this metal strainer under a running tap. She also says nothing and continues to chop the vegetables you pass to her as if you’re on an assembly line. 

   You’re not sure if you are, but you’ve avoided it as long as you could. It’s weird that it feels like years ago and, simultaneously, feels like hours ago. But it’s been three months, going on four next week. The reality of the break up, however, hit you the second week you came home, and it was brutal. 

   And since then, you haven’t been the same. 

   Bella and Kelly have tried everything to help you; consistent phone calls from Kels since she’s still in DC, and Bella coming over whenever she can - which is all the time. But you just can’t shake the utter pain and heartbreak that pours out of your skin, and the only person who can help you through this, is your mom. 

   She’s been through most, if not all, of the hardest and toughest things you’ve been dealt with. She’s your real ride or die bestie. So even though you're not ready to discuss it, evidently you have to - for your own sake. If you’re going to move on with your life, move on from Aaron Hotchner, you have to talk about it. 

   “Not much to talk about, really.” You lie one more time. You’re not sure why you do - you chalk it up to your subconscious mind not being ready to properly handle this or that your mom will drop it. 

   The sound of your moms chopping stops and you hear her sigh. She’s not gonna leave it alone. The cold water flows through your fingers, causing them to go numb and start to sting when there are no vegetables left to rinse. So you know you’re stuck listening to what she has to say, so you figure you might as well just take it. 

   “Well, I’m tired of you sittin’ on your ass ‘n mopin’ around all fuckin’ day for the past few months. That’s not the daughter I raised.” By the loudness of her words you can tell she’s now facing you, but you’re too afraid to turn around. Too embarrassed. Too ashamed of yourself. 

   She barks your name and orders you to turn the water off and look at her, which you do, but not before you grab a sheet of paper towel to dry your stinging hands. You do this very slowly, to the point where you feel like it’s in slow motion. You know she’s not going to do anything but just try to understand where your head is at, and maybe scold you just a bit because of your actions - or lack of, for that matter - but you know she means well and she just wants to make sure her little girl is okay. 

   Looking into her eyes, you break. The bubble in your throat finally bursts. As you lunge forward, your moms arms open and welcome you with love and affection as she wraps her arms tightly around your shoulders. 

   You cry and cry, until no tears are left. 

—

   Your senses are overwhelmed; the smells of plants and people from the park overpower you, the sight of the masses of people panics you just a little, and the sound of music playing in one ear and screams of small children on the playground in the other keeps you alert. Your heart feels like it’s going to jump out of your chest, while your lungs work overtime to keep you going - the cool morning weather making it harder to catch your breath. 

   The white gazebo is now within sight as you jog past the large playground that’s packed with children of all ages with their families. Saturdays during the summer are the busiest days at Richmond park, so you always take that into account when you go on your daily run. 

   But this morning is different. Instead of going to your usual civil court office, like you have for the past eleven years, you’re waiting on an important email from Erin Strauss. The section chief of the BAU in Quantico, the very job you’ve been working so hard for. Your second interview was three days ago and it went pretty well considering how judgmental and difficult Strauss was. 

   You honestly weren’t sure if you were going to get the job because Strauss was picking apart every tiny thing about you; where and how you grew up, what college you attended, what’s so important about joining the BAU, and whether you can hold your own when it comes to a career with something like the FBI. You felt like you were being stabbed with each one of her questions, but you figured that she’s just like that, with a job requiring a brutal sort of honesty.

   Catching your breath, you raise your arms above your head and fold them over so the air can flow freely through your body. Standing on the steps of the gazebo, you step in a small circle to get a bearing on your surroundings, making sure to note anything that seems out of the ordinary. Too many women have been getting assaulted or mugged recently, so you’re always scanning your environment. To add another element of security, you own a black 9mm, which is currently in your car in the parking lot just a few feet away. You have your carry permit, but it doesn’t do much good when you’re in leggings and a sports bra. 

   Your mom was extremely concerned about you living by yourself and forty-five miles away from her, so she and Anthony convinced you to go to the gun range to become familiar. Then, after about four months of that, you decided you felt comfortable and educated enough to own a gun, for your safety. 

   While doing one last spin, you lower your arms and reach for your phone in your side pocket. Your breathing is now steady and regulated, so you can focus more on yourself and your surroundings. 

   Pausing your music and taking out your one earbud, you notice an email from Strauss and you instantly feel proud. You really did it, you really made it to your dream job. It felt almost impossible; after eleven years, you were about to give up hope about this job. But your inner child put up a huge fight against it and ultimately won. There was no way in hell that you would give up on this dream of yours. It was going to happen one way or another. 

   You open the email as you start walking to your car, but before you can read past the names copied in the email, you freeze. 

   Your stomach drops to the cement below your sneakers, your heart rate increases rapidly, and your mind somehow is silent but screaming at the same time. There’s no way this is possible, you never thought this would happen. 

   Hotchner, Aaron

   —

   “You haven’t even seen him since graduation right?” 

   “Kels…yes! I never thought I’d ever see him again, let alone have to work with him, under him even!” 

   “Under him, hehe,” Bella murmurs to herself into her glass of wine as she takes a sip. 

   You glance to your right and she diverts her eyes to her feet, away from your judgy eyes.

   Immediately after you received the email and got back into your car to head back to your house, you called the girls over for a wine and bitch night. Something the three of you started once Kelly ended things with Jason six years ago and moved five minutes away from you and Bella, who lives only four houses apart. 

   Kelly has her own law firm and has done extremely well for herself. However, you do feel bad about how Jason and her ended things. Long story short, she caught him bringing random women back to their home constantly. But what makes it even worse is they have a seven year old daughter. A newborn at the time she kicked him out and never wanted to see him again, Jason hasn’t seen his daughter since then either. 

   You have no idea how Kelly is still able to be this bubbly person, but she is. You and Bella help Kelly whenever she needs it, especially when it comes to her daughter Lilly; babysitting, picking up or dropping off from school, picking up dinner some nights, and anything else. 

   You’ll be damned if anything else happens to Kelly and Lilly, they are least deserving of any treatment like that from Jason. 

   “So, have you replied to her email?” Bella questions as she takes a bite of stringy pizza, wiping the corners of her mouth after. 

   “She told me I didn’t have to. Just to make sure I read it before I go in on Wednesday, which I thought was a weird day to start but what do I know?” 

   “So, like… how are you feelin’ about all this?” Bella chimes in again, but with a tone that lets you know she is trying to be sincere. 

   Your right hand instinctively raises to your necklace and you start to fidget with it … the heart necklace from Aaron. You open your mouth to say something, anything, but nothing comes out. You really don’t know how to feel about this, especially when you erased him from your memory almost completely so you could figure out how to move on. 

   After so long, the thought of Aaron became less and less, even though you still wear the one piece of jewelry from him. It’s been the one thing that you haven’t been able to let go of and you haven’t had a reason to understand why, but now it almost seems like this was meant to happen. The universe never wanted you to forget about him, but you also wonder if he’s ever stopped thinking about you. 

   He had to have noticed your name, just like you did his. But what does that mean? You wonder if he had any say in hiring you or if this is all Strauss’s work, because those two things have very different meanings behind them and those two people have very different motives. 

   “Do you think you’ll be okay?” Bella sits up and rests her hand on your bare thigh, shaking you back to reality. 

   You raise your eyes to her and give the best fake smile you can show and lightly nod your head, I’m gonna try. 

—

   You have an excellent first day baby, call me when you’re home. Love you! 

   Standing in the elevator, you read your moms text message with a warm smile. You didn't tell her about Aaron being your boss, that’ll be a deep conversation for later. 

   Thank you, love you mama! 

   The elevator dings, stops and the metal door slides open before a gorgeous, black haired woman walks in, and you both give a slight smile to each other as you move to give her some room. She goes to press the number six, for the BAU, but she notices you already have it pressed. 

   “Oh, you must be the new girl that Hotch was telling everyone about,” she confidently tells you. “Emily Prentiss.” She reaches her hand out, which you confidently take and introduce yourself to her. 

   So he does remember me…what did he tell them? 

   “Welcome to the world of horrible things people are capable of, you’ll come to learn a lot!” She shakes her head slightly, “But it seems like you can stomach it, I mean, you made it into the BAU which is huge in itself.” 

   The same time you chuckle, the metal doors open again and you’re met with a small hallway with glass doors that have the Seal of the Federal Bureau of Investigation’s logo on them. It’s busy with agents walking from one hallway to the other, all on a mission (or at least that’s what it looks like). You can finally release that breath that’s been sitting in your chest since you woke up this morning. 

   “Well, let’s go introduce you to the team,” Emily announces as she slightly nudges your lower back, “I got you, girl, don’t worry.” 

   Turning your body to the side so she can lead the way, you smile, “Thank you.” 

   Now, past the glass doors, you’re met with an open layout office with desks together to make squares. Emily walks past the first couple and heads to the next set, where a group of four gather around one’s desk. Your nerves build just a little bit, but you shove them down for your first impressions. You’re not going to allow Aaron the satisfaction of knowing he’s messing with your head. 

   “Listen up, kids!” Emily announces, catching everyone’s attention but you see how all their eyes move to you and then back to Emily. She steps to the side, almost showcasing you off to them as she tells them your name and that you’re officially joining the team. 

   With your leather brown purse hanging from your shoulder, a large confident smile comes across your face as you wave to them with your right hand, hi guys! 

   “I was just asking J.J when you were coming in, I’m Penelope Garcia!” This vibrant colored blonde reaches her bejeweled wrist out to greet you, which you happily take. 

   “My official first day!” You cheer, “So excited to be a part of your team!” 

   Over the next ten minutes you learn a whole lot about the team. And you overall, love them all already. They’re all just full of character and personality, which you’re always looking for in a work environment.

   J.J, the original liaison turned official Supervisory Special Agent and mom of two healthy boys. Spencer Reid, the impossibly smart guy, you have no clue that anyone could be as smart as him. Derek Morgan, the player and muscle of the team for sure, this man is flirtatious but in a fun way - he’s not rude or arrogant in the slightest. David Rossi, one of the original FBI agents and the old Italian man that reminds you a lot of what your mom described of her grandfather. Penelope Garcia, the technical genius and the brightest and most animated woman you have ever seen. Emily Prentiss, the pure badass and smartass of the team, is almost a mixture of the team all around. 

   Jokes and history are being shared amongst everyone, but there’s a huge elephant in the room. Even with the laughs from the team, the tension is so thick it could be cut with a knife. Where is he? 

   “Dad’s here!” 

   You hear Derek whisper, trying to not make a scene…which doesn’t work because everyone turns their head. Everyone except you. You’re caught staring at J.J, who sits in her office chair with her blonde eyebrows raised, and her lips purse as she slowly spins to face her desk. 

   Morning. 

   There it is. The voice you’ve ached to be able to hear again, but will deny if ever asked. From the one and only man you’ve ever longed for and have loved since you met him over a lifetime ago. The man you’ve lost sleep over from just wishing you could redo it all over so you and him didn’t go separate ways. The voice that distracts you from work when you’re alone in your office and you’re not sure why. The memories of you and him on date nights flourish your brain when you’re with friends, even though you thought you and him were done completely. The voice you thought you had erased from your memory, but just like that, the memories and feelings come right back like you’re in college again. 

   Aaron. 

   Just like that, he stops dead in his tracks. His back now to you about a desk away, his broad shoulders tense under his black suit. You watch the way his back stiffens and he takes a deep breath in and stands for a moment, but he doesn’t turn around. You’re not sure why you said his name just now, it’s almost scary how natural his name spewed out of your mouth. There was just no way that you couldn’t not say anything to him right now, it just didn’t seem right. 

   My office is all he says with the most monotone voice you have ever heard from him. You’re almost speechless, almost. You can’t help but chuckle to yourself as you push your tongue into the side of your left cheek - what in the fuck? If he’s going to make this into a thing that it doesn’t need to be, you’re going to lose your shit because you know he can be an adult when it’s needed. 

   “Uh oh, trouble in paradise…” Derek mumbles with a smile that goes from ear to ear. Garcia hits his arm and tells him to shut up, but you can’t help but laugh at him. 

   “Little do you know, pretty boy.” You crack back at him with a wink as you start your way towards the small set of steps that lead to his office. A small giggle fest starts behind you and you can’t help but feel incredible, you’re fitting in so well already and you’re honestly not even worried about what Aaron will do or say. 

   You already know this job is going to be tough. 

   But so worth it. 

[lostfirefly]

Buggy x Reader Masterlist

I had to reorganize my masterlist a little because Tumblr doesn't allow adding new links) Sketches, OC's stories are here :)

• Heart of Courage You and Buggy are being held hostage by pirates (based on my dream) • Make my heart a better place, give me something I can believe You're a cook on the Buggy Pirates crew. During the year you have feelings for the captain, but you don't dare to say it, but you write about your feelings in poems. One day he finds your notebook (based on my personal poem) • If you wake up in your bed, alone in the dark, I'm sorry I gotta leave you before you love me You're the owner of a bar where one evening a blue-haired pirate comes and you both play a drinking game. Just a random shitty shit :) • Please don't say you're gone forever, 'cause I can't hurt no more

You're the flower shop owner who has a long-standing relationship with Buggy. You haven't seen each other much in the last few months. He finally arrives to see you, but he's overtaken by fit of jealousy during the dinner.

Chapter 1, Chapter 2

• Thank you, driver, for getting me here, you'll be an inspector, have no fear, I don't want to cause no fuss, but can I buy your Magic Bus? You and your sister are taking the bull to the farm. You board the only bus that can transport bulls, the driver of which is Buggy. Just a random shitty shit again :) • Can't find my peace and quiet, some things are better left in silence You were tormented by nightmares, you came to Buggy's bed. • Make my coffee sweet and warm, just the way you used to lie in my arms (nsfw!) You were sitting in a coffee shop for work. The barista was Buggy. • I need you here till the very end, so stay here with me Buggy had a hard day. You comb his hair and wash off his makeup. Fluffy shitty shit. • I will lay it at your feet, and I won't hold back anything, 'cause what you are is all, what you are is all of me You haven't seen Buggy for several days, he's throwing you a candlelit dinner. Fluffy fluff! • Secrets I have held in my heart are harder to hide than I thought, maybe I just wanna be yours You throw knives together with Cabaji. Buggy joins you. • If you sit down with this old clown, take that frown and break it, before the evening's gone away, I think that we could make it Your sister took you to a bar so she could meet someone. She saw Buggy, but he clearly showed interest in you. • Now hush little baby, don't you cry, everything's gonna be alright You and Buggy have a little daughter. The ship is moored, and you go to rest, leaving Buggy with the child. • Baby, baby when you're looking deep in my eyes, I know you're seeing past my make-up Buggy asks you to help him apply makeup. • They say it's your birthday, we're going to have a good time Buggy's birthday. You want to cheer him up. • But what am I gonna say, when you make me feel that way? (nsfw!) You came to visit Buggy in his office. • Storybook endings, fairy tales coming true, deep down inside we want to believe they still do Buggy tells a fairy story to children.

• Maybe You're My Enemy

You're the captain of the ship, and Buggy stole from you the map that you stole from him earlier.

Chapter 1

[danwhobrowses]

One Piece Chapter 1125 - Initial Thoughts

A week break gone and now we're back again

It always takes so long but we return to One Piece. Elbaf is on the horizon, and while questions float over Vegapunk there may still yet be a little more before we reach the land of giants.

Let's see what we have

Spoilers for the Chapter, Support the Official Release too!

Yamato's latest pit stop is the still-rebuilding Oden castle

Minatomo the carpenter has gone missing, so I guess that's the next step - probably missing his student who happens to actually be very skilled at carpentry

The WG continue to wrap things up on Egghead, ready to load the Seraphim and leave, we don't know what they intended for the Mark IIIs and the Weaponized Sea Beasts though

Lucci and Kaku board with angered faces, claiming Stussy was KIA

Unusual for Lucci to lie about that though isn't it?

Saturn though wraps up the benefits of the operation, citing that getting York and the Mother Flame is a win, but there was one critical hiccup

The Vice Admirals are in audience with him, and apologize for failing to capture Bonney and the Straw Hats even with a Grand Buster Call

They ask to make chase to Elbaf, but are turned down

The true hiccup was Vegapunk's message getting out

He also mentions that the awakening of Emeth was ironic

We get a flashback 200 years ago, turns out Emeth being studied on was by Saturn's permission! He wanted the tech for military might

Man literally left a 200 year chekhov's gun on the table

As Saturn mulls about Emeth, Vice Admiral Doberman makes a foolish mistake, and asks if that means Vegapunk's message was true

And thus he gets eyeshotted, though he seems to just be KO'd, since they call a medic

Something's happening in the Labophase though

York sees a ton of clouds in the lab, and realises that a plan has been undertaken

Edison's not dead! But York is trying to rectify that

But it's a feint, and as York fires to the side the top half of the egg floats away

Punk Records has been swiped from the clutches of the WG

Back at Marejois and naturally, the Celestial Dragons are not taking the low food supplies well

Sadly that means lots of killing and blaming

Akainu catching a stray for not capturing Kuma, but it seems that most of the Dragons were unaware of Vegapunk's reveal

Figarland Garling approaches the remaining Gorosei in their usual place

He has new orders: York is under his command now, because he's the new Minister of War

Saturn fucked up and now he just got demoted! That really ruins the planet motif

Oh but what of Saturn? He screams in agony on his ship

Looks like Imu has no use for him, and the black haze that seemed to restore them from damage now suffocates him

The Vice Admirals just look in horror, unknown to what's causing this

The seemingly impervious Saturn retches and grows thinner, almost hollowed out

Imu tells him their motives; Joy Boy was allowed to escape, so they are responsible

Black smoke and flames erupt from the ship, and what remains of Jaygarcia Saturn is just bones

Back at the now floating Punk Records, it seems the satellites are all alive, chatting among each other

Shaka notes they intended to get the whole Fabriostratum, but they're glad to get Punk Records out of York's hands

Pythagoras notes that she can still link up with Punk Records, but it'll only to be to fulfill its original intention

Shaka predicts it'll still take 500 years to achieve its true objective

But everyone thinks they're dead so there's limited pursuit, but that also means no funds

Edison has a new body, a frankenbody of spare parts

His own head, Atlas and Pythagoras' arm, and Shaka's torso and legs

Shaka also jabs at Edison for always admiring his height

Atlas however wants York's spare parts thrown out, which the rest of the group agree on

It is very fortunate Sanji never found this room of spare body parts

Edison also has another connection up his sleeve, and calls Weatheria!

Over to the Revolutionary Army and they are gathering the intel from Vegapunk's message

They also conclude that whoever gets the One Piece gets access to the power to destroy the world too

Belo Betty seems like she is ready to oppose the pirates, and in turn Luffy and Robin

Sabo doesn't comment, only noting that it explains why the first Celestrial Dragons took up home on the Red Line

Oh! Tequila Wolf wasn't the only one...Vodka Wolf, Rum Wolf and Bourbon Wolf

We know there's a Vodka kingdom since that's where Kaido came from, wonder if that's a connection

Dragon mulls on the coast, noting how many will take Vegapunk's message to scramble for higher land

Looks like Dragon's got a boot up the ass, to speed up his plan

Well this is interesting

The power structure has changed, Figarland Garling is our new Gorosei, Saturn is no more. A brutal death to a seemingly unkillable being at the hands of Imu, but the interesting part is what it tells and what it implies. Saturn was a person, and it seems that Imu was able to keep him alive for so long, at least 200 years. Does that mean there were other Gorosei back in the day? And does the Gyuki transformation transfer over to Garling? Will he be empowered with a new shape? The World Government may still have York and the Mother Flame, but the loss of Punk Records is huge! I guess that's what Lilith meant by them not being dead, I guess they all still can connect to one satellite and share the body. The frankenbody is unusual, though I wonder if they'll come back in a different shape next time, following refinement for convenience given how weird their proportions are right now. Interesting not to hear the Stella talk either, I guess he could still be the brain jar but maybe he is the sole casualty?

The Celestial Dragons starving may've killed a Gorosei but it will lead to more violence and blaming, not gonna be good for the current climate, which is probably why Imu anticipates war. Imu is definitely paying attention to Luffy now, calling them Joy Boy, but Saturn did in a way cause all his own undoing, from Emeth, Kuma and Vegapunk himself, he underestimated everyone because they were insects to him and they all outwitted him, an ant bite can still kill a man.

The Revolutionary Army look to gear up for something big. They have been making smaller strides in general but maybe now Oda's gonna put them to work. I do kinda hope though that they don't directly oppose Luffy like Koby intends to, Sabo that is your brother and all the RA have friendly ties to Robin. Everyone is like 'this power is dangerous and can destroy the world' but nobody's reminding themselves that Luffy ain't about destroying the world. Like, maybe just help pave the way? The Grand Fleet need to be kicked into gear to help with that too.

All in all a lot to consume and chew on with this chapter, especially compared to the linear brevity of the last. I doubt we'll go to Elbaf next chapter though, we have the dangling thread of Kuma and Bonney still to deal with, and of course whatever game-changing thing is about to happen on the other sides of the world.

Oda and his round numbers man, he loves them round numbers.

[hearts4youz]

The Captain's Daughter: Chapter 21

A/N: Motivation to write and an actual idea of where the story is going>>>>>>>>>>>

As always, thank you soo much for reading. Your comments are so kind and they really keep me going

Taglist:

@abbiesxox @n30n-j3lly @weird-katthing @kayoyamamegame @kroowonderemporium @astro-ghoul99 @darkravenqueen988 @gaylilangelbaby @yuunnnaaaa @unicorngirly1 @noodlezz-bedo @inarabee

Reader pov

No breaks for the 141. Of course, the day after the wedding, when all of you were hungover and tired, you would be sent on a mission. Not a particularly risky one thankfully, but important nonetheless. You couldn't let your pounding headache distract you from the briefing where you sat in this moment. You massaged your temples and glanced over at Ghost, who was paying close attention to Price's lecture. This morning, the two of you had only shared a knowing glance and a smile before being interrupted by your teammates.

"Any questions?" Price asked. No one raised their hand.

"Alright, lets roll," You cringed at his fatherly choice of words while leaving the room.

Ghost pov:

I watched Y/N leave the room, my heart swelled with warmth remembering that she was mine now.

mine

I let the word slip off my tongue, which earned me a weird glance from Soap, but I shook him off and went to catch up with Y/N. She looked back when she heard my footsteps and gave me a soft smile, causing my stomach to erupt in butterflies.

"Hey," I croaked.

"Morning!" she said cheerfully.

"You uh... ready for this mission?" I asked, my tone of voice awkward.

"Yeah, you?" she responded.

We continued the awkward small talk until we met up with the others, I feared I was messing things up because I didn't know what to say. The initial giddiness was wearing off and this relationship was beginning to scare me. I swallowed my fear and focused on the objective ahead, eliminating two targets.

After all the equipment checks were complete, the 141 boarded a helicopter. My hand brushed Y/N's during liftoff and I quickly retracted it, she gave me a quizzical glance that looked almost hurt. I mumbled an apology and looked away.

Fuck! Why do you have to be so awkward!!!! I said to myself.

When we landed and broke off into teams, I was relieved to be grouped with Y/N. We landed on top of a skyscraper in a big city. I tried my best to get myself locked in but my thoughts and eyes drifted to Y/N, who stood a few feet away, loading her gun. I looked at her fragile form, I know she's more than capable of holding her own, but what if she gets hurt. I shake my head violently as the thought of her reeling in pain is too much to bear.

I think back to the last time I was left in charge of someone more vulnerable than me and replay the image of my recruits throat being slit over again. I shake my head once more and begin to load my own gun before entering the building with Gaz and Y/N.

I stick to Y/N's side as we stay low. the top floors of the building are mostly offices, the workers are glued to their computers in a robotic looking way. Sneaking past was a walk in the park. Going in for the kill quietly would be the issue.

The 73rd floor is where intel said the target would be, fear ripped through me as we inched closer.

Please, nothing go wrong I said over and over again in my head.

We reach the floor and things are eerily quiet. We find ourselves in a long corridor with multiple doors, none of which are marked. I take out a device as Gaz and Y/N click silencers onto their guns. I point the device towards one of the doors, sure enough, a heat signature in the shape of a man appears on screen.

"We can't just walk in through the door," Gaz says, I nod.

Y/N looks around for a moment before pointing up at the ceiling, I turn my head upwards and notice a vent. I nod at her to acknowledge her idea. I hoist Gaz up, he takes the cover off the vent and climbs in. Then, I get Y/N up there. I try not to think about the skin to skin contact we are having and focus on the mission but my mind gets the better of me. Finally, Gaz gives me a hand and I climb up myself.

We crawl a few feet before reaching an opening. We peer into the room and see our target typing away on a computer, unaware of our eyes on him. Y/N pushes the end of her gun into one of the slits in the cover and gets ready to fire. My heart begins to race as he stops typing for a stretch break. His arms extend in the air as he tilts his head back. I panic and move to pull Y/N out of sight, but I underestimate how little room the vent gives us, as well as the strength of the ceiling tiles.

Suddenly, We come crashing down onto the office floor of the target, who yells and grabs a gun from his desk drawer. Before he can point it at us though, Gaz fires from his knees and hits the target directly in the chest. I grab Y/N and the three of us break a window and jump out onto a lower rooftop where Gaz radios for exfil as I cradle Y/N in my arms and apologize to both of them profusely.

"I fucked everything up, I'm sorry, I'm sorry,"

Y/N gets to her feet and brushes dust and debris from her body. "Hey, Your fine, everyone makes mistakes."

"Yeah man, we all fuck up sometimes," Gaz agrees.

"But you both could've gotten killed, I just... I," I stop talking as Y/N gives me that caring, nurturing look. My cheeks heat up and I stand back up.

*timeskip*

Later that night, there's a knock at my door. I open the door and I am relieved to see Y/N standing there in casual clothes. After the mission, I went straight to the showers, opting to eat dinner alone in my room. I was grateful that Y/N had come to find me, I felt more ready to face her now that my nerves had died down.

She walks straight into me and wraps her arms around me, burying her face in my chest. I pat her back softly, feeling at ease in her embrace.

"You were worried about me," she murmured into my chest.

"Yeah..." I confessed.

She lifted her head up and looked into my eyes. "Don't be," she said softly. "You're going to put yourself in danger. besides, I can hold my own."

I knew she was right, but It wouldn't stop me from worrying about her, so instead I changed the subject.

"Am I too awkward?" I needed to know the answer, the real answer, not just her reassurence.

"Si... You're not too much or too little of anything, okay? Don't worry about me, or being good enough for me, or anything like that. If your doing something that hurts me, or makes me feel sad or uncomfortable, I promise I'll tell you."

I sighed and smiled, looking down at my girlfriend, "You just know exactly how to make me feel better don't you."

She smiles, still not letting go of me.

My voice goes softer, a little more serious, more vulnerable. "Will you stay with me tonight?"

Y/N pauses for a beat, I get scared and feel like I ruined something before she speaks.

"Of course I will Simon."

I slept easily that night with my girl in my arms. Her face buried into my neck as my muscular arms practically swallowed her figure.

"Mine," I whispered to her when I was sure she fell asleep.

"Yours," she replied back breathily.

[redcoralpot]

Smudged (5)

Summary: Rodrick lives up to his side of the deal, or should I say, community service.

Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 1K

A/N: Okay, so, this wasn't all that was planned for this chapter. Buttt I felt really rushed and hadn't updated this fic in a little over a month. I'll edit this with the rest of the chapter when I get to it, but for now, it's being put to rest indefinitely. Thank you for the support!

-

The next day, your best friend arrived in English early, much to your surprise. Daniel tossed a notebook onto your desk, slouching in his seat as if he were a drunk, divorced father. You took it into your hand, reading the messily written label, before looking up at the sorrowful boy in front of you. The pages were filled to the brim with outlines, sketches, and ideas; some pictures were lightly colored in.

“I see you’ve been busy,” you quipped.

Daniel hissed, the bags under his eyes more prominent, “This prompt is crap! I’ve been up all night trying to figure out how to do this.”

“You’re thinking too hard about it, Dan.” You pass it back to him, fingers tapping the wooden desk.

“That’s easy for you to say,” he ranted, “you just have drums!”

“I’d rather have the guitar.”

He rubbed his temples, “Not my point. Can’t you come with me tonight to take pictures?”

“In the forest? Dude, that’s every horror movie plot,” you scoffed, watching other students file in.

They sat in their seats or hopped on desks, with one girl rudely scooting on Daniel’s, “I know, that’s why I want you to come with me. I need photos for the presentation board!”

“I dunno if I can, I’m supposed to be going to Rodrick’s house tonight.”

“Since when did you start hanging out with him?”

“Since the need for a decent grade.”

Ms. Kawiti was the last to stroll inside, setting her bag on the table in the front of the classroom. She cleared her throat, and caused all chatter to cease, including your conversation with Daniel. Your best friend grumbled, turning back around, attempting to dodge the long hair intruding in his personal space. The girl herself reluctantly returned to her own place, sharing a few final giggles with her group. You leaned back in your chair, arms crossed and feet perched underneath your desk on a metal bar. There were other boys around the class doing the same, and you adjusted yourself to make the position more comfortable. Why did time have to go so slow when fun is on the other side? 

On just another thing you were better than Rodrick at, you did not break any personal property when parking outside his house. Your shoes clacked against the concrete driveway, purple laces swinging, only stopping to knock on the door. The person who answered was not Rodrick, no, but a much older woman with a professional-looking outfit and brown hair to match. She looked so strikingly different from the drummer you knew that you almost backed away, apologizing for coming to the wrong house. Almost. 

“Excuse me, ma’am, is this the Heffley family’s house?”

She seemed taken aback, almost wary as she took in your appearance, “Yes, are you one of Rodrick’s… bandmates?”

“Uh, no, I’m Heather’s brother. He invited me over for research,” you shrugged.

“Rodrick and research?” Mrs. Heffley cocked an eyebrow up, slightly stepping back to allow you inside.

You waved your hands, and said, “I know, absolutely unbelievable! However, I can assure you that I’m telling the truth– he brought home some books.”

“And I read it, duh,” a voice called from above.

Rodrick, the devil, hung his head over the overhead railing. He cocked his head at you, sneering. Mrs. Heffley shook her head, sighed, and walked into a separate room beside you; there wasn’t any attention on her anymore. Rodrick motioned for you to come up the stairs, before disappearing again.

His voice echoed, “C’mon, my room’s the coolest here!”

For a split second, you hesitated. You glanced back to where Mrs. Heffley had disappeared, unsure of whether it was appropriate to leave your shoes on and make a mess of the house. Just to be safe, you set them neatly beside the door, before following the other boy up the stairs.

When you finally arrived, Rodrick had already vanished once again. There were multiple doors running down the hallway, but the only hint as to the correct one was the faint sound of guitar riffs. It almost sounded like it was coming from above you, though you decided to peek into the closest unlocked door. This room wasn’t even a bedroom; it was simply a small bathroom meant for one or two people. There was a bit of a smell inside, like someone hadn't flushed the toilet. Hell, as curious as you were, you weren’t going to confirm that.

You barely could close the door before a finger tapped your shoulder, and you flinched, turning around– it was just Greg. The little boy was Rodrick’s unlucky younger brother, who was at least a head shorter than you. He seemed nicer than your acquaintance, and it really made you wonder how the two of them were raised in the same household. Perhaps Rodrick was adopted? Nah. Greg was studying you with a standoffish look in his eyes, the kind kids get when they meet strange family friends. You weren’t surprised; your looks were far from the typical suburban rich boy.

“His room’s in the attic,” Greg said, plainly, “Last door.”

He scurried off to do his own things, possibly to bug his mother about the newest Nintendo game. There was no last door on the left, only a wall that held an uncharacteristically peaceful family photo. Rodrick was still Rodrick, just younger, with devilish messy hair and dirt under his nails. On the right, however, there was a slightly ominous wooden door. In direct contrast to the opposite wall, the door had a sign that read Rodrick Only. It was so childishly Rodrick that you couldn’t help but chuckle under your breath. 

One knock, two knock, three knock. The music coming from above grew ever so slightly quieter, and you could hear heavy footsteps coming down the attic stairs. It opened, only to an unimpressed drummer.

“Dude, aren’t you coming?” He frowned.

 You shrugged, pointing to the sign, “I’m not allowed in. It’s Rodrick only, remember?”

Said boy rolled his eyes, huffing out a laugh, “You’re the exception.”

“The exception?”

“An exception,” he corrected himself.

You pushed past him, clambering up the stairs, “Whatever you say, dick.”

“Weirdo.”

Rodrick’s room was, to put it nicely, a mess. His bed was undone, random magazines poked out from under his mattress, and you honestly couldn’t tell if the jeans hanging on the railing were dirty or clean. Three, conjoined windows were the only source of natural light, and you swore you could see a spider web hanging off the sill. Posters and grimy t-shirts were plastered all over the walls and ceiling; you doubted any space was left untouched. Rodrick’s drum set sat in the corner, shining like it was brand new.

He was shuffling through a bookshelf behind you, containing almost everything but books themselves, much to your amusement. Rodrick must have seen the quirk of your lips when he managed to pull a thin, perfectly packaged music book from its depths, as his eyes narrowed when he turned to face you. 

“This is for the bare basics of drumming, it should cover all that mechanical stuff you have in your outline,” he shrugged.

“You actually read that?”

Rodrick’s gaze flicked towards you, unsure, before his chest puffed up obnoxiously, “Duh, what kinda guy do you take me for?”

…

“I’m not gonna answer that.”

“You’re just too scared to admit that I’m awesome!”

You mumbled, “You’re delusional.”

“Aha! I knew it!”

“If you know so much,” you tapped the cymbal, “give me what I’m here for.”

The 

Rodrick groaned, “You’re such a party pooper sometimes.”

“Ironic.”

He swiped the drumsticks from the seat and pointed them at you threateningly, like an annoyed teacher, “Shh.”

Rodrick used the sticks to point out each individual drum part, explaining the noise they make and how he uses them in his band. You scratched your nose while he rambled on, not feeling in the mood to tell him you knew this already. It was only when he started back on the ego talk that your attention drifted to other parts of his room, to all the little details. There was a large poster of a woman holding a dark colored guitar, her hair swept back in a 90’s hairstyle that most definitely wouldn’t be possible without layers upon layers of spray. She had eyeliner smudged across her eyelids, but they had a cleaner edge than Rodrick’s attempts; quite similar to yours. Rodrick was now doing light taps to 4-4 time, nodding his head to the rhythm, eyes closed. 

The fan in the opposite corner was making the glossed pages under his mattress flutter and loosen from where they were hidden. If you squinted your eyes, you could just barely make out a part of the photo– were those biceps? If you shuffled a bit to the right, you could pull it out enough that it would flutter out on its own, and that it did. Hell, Rodrick was too busy rocking out on the drums to hear your suspicions being confirmed.

You wouldn’t be surprised if Rodrick had a magazine full of half naked women hanging around somewhere; it was Rodrick, after all. However, one full of shirtless men? That was out of character for the self proclaimed womanizer. For a moment, you thought about telling him that you knew about his stash, but quickly dismissed it. You couldn’t imagine how embarrassing that would be for someone, even an asshole as shameless as him! Besides, who knows how insulated the walls of this house are, right? You bit your tongue, humming along to Rodrick’s music as he made a dramatic finish to the song.

“I was starting to worry I wasn’t keeping your attention there,” he chuckled to himself.

You tilted your head, “I just got lost in the beat, you know how it is.”

“That I do, dude. Was that all you needed?”

“Bingo, you were super useful.”

He grinned, “I’m always helpful! You could literally just ask Gregory his opinion on it, I taught him all about how to survive middle school.”

“The harshest environment, I’m aware.” You stood up.

“Okay,” he sensed the sarcasm in your tone, “you’re banned. Get out.”

“I’m going, I’m going, don’t get your panties in a twist!”

You ran down the stairs, hearing him cackling the whole way down. Rodrick was funny sometimes, you had to give him that. Maybe these next few weeks wouldn’t be so bad, after all.

-

[bratbby333]

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ [ blog update ! ] ࿐ྂ

+ some housekeeping and info on new writing

hello my loves !! i wanted to give y'all some insight on what's been going on in my mind palace lately. there's a lot...so...cmon, take a walk w me...and maybe bring some snacks.

ੈ♡˳ first and foremost ! my work has received a lot more attention recently and i am so excited. with actual tears in my eyes, im happy to report that i surpassed 1,000 followers the other day. i am at a loss for words...just...stuck in a perma-state of disbelief.

im sending out the biggest thank you to everyone who has supported me, who's interacted with my work, to the lovely friends ive made though this account and to the heartbreakingly beautiful anime that brought me here in the first place. i am genuinely in awe...overwhelmed, even...i didn't expect any of this to happen when i started this blog and i am forever indebted to all of you for getting me here. im actively fighting off the inevitable surge of imposter syndrome as i type this out...i just love y'all so fucking much. this community means the world to me and i wanna scream at the top of my lungs in order to demonstrate my deepest appreciation for each and every one of y'all.

ੈ♡˳ secondly ! a message for my little angel babies, my day one followers; thank you for taking a chance on me. for watching me grow. for sticking around as i worked to get better at writing. im sure a lot of you started following me for my gamer!bf sukuna series...trust me, i love him and i know y'all do too. but i feel like my writing is heading in a different direction...and with a heavy heart, i'm absolutely gutted when i say that i am taking a pause on that series. i am forever grateful for the support and may return to him soon, though i cannot promise that. i owe so much of what my account is now to that series and i will never forget that.

for everyone who joined me as i delved into dark/dead dove content, thank you from the bottom of my heart for allowing me a safe space to explore different forms of story-telling. my choso fic was the first stepping stone and then i skipped every other stone on the path and jumped head first into the deep end with my dead dove gojo fic...i deeply appreciate all the positive feedback i received on both of those. after posting them, i realized that i am very into writing dark content. i know that taboo themes/dark content/dead dove subject matter isn't for everyone and i understand people's apprehension in regards to it. but with that being said, i will be moving forward with publishing darker content.

ੈ♡˳ so here's the writing update !

i did a poll asking y'all what kind of content you enjoy. a good chunk of people said long form fics (which is great, cause i do too !! mommy needs plot). so, i am migrating away from one shot writing. both because i've been thinking about it for awhile and because y'all are into longer stories, as well. but fear not, i will still write shorter stuff along with headcannons, drabbles, etc...it just won't be the main focus of my blog anymore.

ੈ♡˳ now, time for the big reveal ! perhaps it's a bit anticlimactic, but bear with me...

im so excited to announce that i have two new series coming ! it will be a dark, modern!au featuring choso (with a few other special guests) and a dead dove sukuna series.

i'm almost finished with the outlines, and have fully completed the theme layout + mood boards for both works. i hope to get the first few chapters wrapped up in the next couple weeks. if you want to be tagged in either of these (or both), just leave a comment or send me a message !

(also !! i may or may not be cooking up a dark medieval au series in collaboration with another writer on here...so be on the lookout for that hehe)

while i take breaks from writing my two series, i'll be working through my requests ! so if you've sent one in, i promise i will get to it, unless i literally cannot think of a good way to write it (im only human, im so sorry). also, im sure we already knew this, but im a slowww writer. i wish i could churn content out quick as fuck but i am too hypercritical of myself…it's both a blessing and a curse, honestly.

if you made it all the way to the end of this nightmare of a brain dump, i love you. if you've been with me for a while, i love you. if you're just now joining me, i love you. everyone who’s supported me in any way, shape, or form, i love you.

i present you with the sloppiest kiss with tongue (only if you want it, of course. i can also give you the tightest hug, the gentlest head pat, or my social security number...access to all my bank accounts? a mansion in the hills? my passport? hand in marriage? my first born child? literally whatever you want, babe).

okay !! i think that's all for the updates. feeling: very ambitious and motivated but also overwhelmed and mildly stressed but overall super excited for what's to come. im looking forward to this new adventure and i hope y'all come along with me ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

thank you again…for literally everything. yall hold a special place in my heart and always will. so, here we go !

see you on the other side, my loves.

— jade 𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪

[afreakingdork]

Weak Spot - Chapter 52

RotTMNT Donatello x Reader

He's supposed to be dunking on someone else, but I feel like we're all affected by this week's chapter art by @garbagemilkshake

Warnings: Aged-up Turtles, Romance, Meet Cute, Villain Donatello, Cussing, Crushes, Xenophobia, Fear, Intimidation, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Hurt/Comfort, Love, AFAB Reader, Vaginal Sex, Sex Rough, Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Creampie, Teasing, Scent Kink, Sexual Tension, Breeding Kink, Multiple Orgasms, Cunnilingus, Fellatio, Marathon Sex, Somnophilia, Bondage, Feral Behavior, Feral Donatello, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Public Sex, Dom Donnie, Human/Turtle Relationships, Turtle Noises, Roleplay, Sexual Roleplay

Synopsis:  A love story of villainous proportions! Though it hadn’t come easily, as these things rarely do, you found yourself in a whirlwind romance with a handsome and mysterious mutant. His idiosyncrasies had been easy to ignore as attraction grew into something more. However, will love endure when the unknowns about him end up being far darker than you ever considered?

Also available on Ao3

First 💜 Previous

Mikey had been texting you non-stop.

No matter how innocuous it was, it troubled you just how flagrant you were being. In the week since the first, you hadn’t had a single flare up. There should have been anger. There was a rage that should have been parboiled like his damn chains on your skin. Instead, you’d simply stared when you’d received the first message after having just arrived at work. The surprised exclamation about Donnie also liking cooking had only given you pause. It wasn’t even a white flag. It was a blob on an otherwise empty message board. A single blip that you could pocket and forget; it was the second text that caused you to respond.

It was an image of Splinter screaming with a hand up as he tried to fend off the phone.

With only a few words and an image, you put it all together. The aging starlet had continued his streak of being the worst communicator. Based on the fact that Splinter was in his favorite chair, you set the scene of Mikey spending time with his father. Maybe catching up as adults with busy lives did, Splinter, many months after the fact, would have tossed an off-the-cuff comment about how you’d told him Donnie cooked, for better or worse. Mikey then incensed by the claim, rushed for confirmation and, against his father’s wishes, took a photo to validate his utterance.

The strange understanding of someone you barely knew had you crafting a response.

You: He went through an intense science related phase is all.

That single watering was enough to grow a field.

What followed that day was Mikey info dumping about some chef who dabbled in the same. He went on and on about how said man made cooking easy before outpouring an explanation of the years long hiatus between parts of his show. There had been a cookbook made in the interim that seemed to solidify network choices and you were soon on the receiving more pictures, now of Mikey with his signed copy.

Then another, where a starry eyed Mikey who maybe looked a few years younger was photographed with the man you could now attach a face to.

You’d meant to leave it.

In all the time he’d been sharing this story, you hadn’t responded once.

From his end, all he received were read receipts and yet he kept going.

Each time you took a break there was a new rolling number of messages and you caught up on them like reading the paper.

Sipping tea to warm yourself in the late afternoon, you were at the very least entertained. Part of you clung steadfast to the brick he’d tried to hit you with, but there was a disconnect from that menace and this voice. He was now a newsletter to be read at your leisure and you imagined this would be the last. A single blip on the radar that was Michelangelo, you’d have one better memory of him to hold onto.

Going back for your last work stretch until clock out, you wondered how that chef had reacted when he found out about his mutant devotee. You imagined he’d accepted Mikey’s looks then he’d probably followed it up with some guilt about animals and autonomy. Thinking of cow mutants and their stand to eat more chicken, you were soon off and gave your phone a final once over before heading out.

Your preview message wished you a nice night and you read backwards to catch up.

Mikey: Alright!

Mikey: That’s enough of that!

Mikey: Thank you for tuning into DJ Dr Delicate Touch CPAs radio hour

Mikey: We hope you had a good time listeners

Mikey: Okay wait who even listens to the radio anymore?

Mikey: I gotta do this like a podcast and thank my sponsor

Mikey: ShipStation, it’s better than the post office probably

Mikey: Fr tho

Mikey: Thanks for your time

Mikey: Have a nice night! 😁

Odd.

It was strange.

Putting your phone away, you should have been mad.

No matter how much you tried you couldn’t summon it.

The entire trip home, you tried to think about what you were missing.

The best you could come up with was that his words of leaving you be during the kidnapping had been ones you used more than once in your daily life. A level statement from one with otherwise untethered shoulders, it spoke of some kind of maturity. Besides Leo, the other two each had it in their own flavors. Mikey’s made the least sense as he flittered like a confused butterfly, while Raph seemed like the only one with a touch of reality.

You shouldn’t indulge this.

It was in reaching for your door knob that you were struck with an odd thought.

You weren’t.

Why worry?

Feeling like you had wasted your ride home, you left your concerns at the door as you stepped into the space with your partner.

A pleasant evening followed and the next day arrived without a similar hitch.

The following morning rolled out in a relaxed state that found you at your desk. It was sometime around 10am that you got another message.

Mikey: You ever wonder why eggs don’t taste like chicken?

Stupid.

That had been your first thought.

Of course they didn’t; they were embryos, but a second thought had you typing.

You: If you can’t taste then how do you know that’s still true?

It was mean.

You couldn’t even convince yourself that you hadn’t mean it that way.

Part of you did.

Part of you also felt like shit for poking fun at an obvious disability.

What did you even know about it?

You knew he couldn’t smell cum on you like his brothers.

That had to correlate with taste and yet you were the tasteless one.

It’d show him, you decided.

There had to be a barrier.

You weren’t familial.

You weren’t friends.

You were whatever you had with Leo at best.

Two photos thrown into the ether and an open line in case of emergencies.

The silence said you’d put the matter to bed.

Your phone should do the same.

You had work.

Moving to set your device down, you spied a percolation of bubbles before a giant image spawned.

Raising your phone on sheer instinct, you stared down at a meme.

An image of a turtle with its mouth open as if it had just been burdened with the reality of its existence.

Mind blown.

Mikey: TREE FALLS IN THE FOREST WHO!?

Mikey: THATS SO GOOD

Mikey: IM THROWING THAT BACK IN LEOS FACE RN

Mikey: REACTION IN COMING

Mikey: HERE WE GO

Mikey: HES EATING GOLDEN GRAHAMS GOT HIM

Your lips parted as you stared.

Mikey: aw man wtf 😩

Mikey: It didn’t land!!! 😩😩😩

Mikey: I did wait like an hour before responding

Mikey: He said it first btw

Mikey: Credit where its due

Mikey: Though wait hold up

Mikey: I take it back

Mikey: He totally got it from a video

Mikey: OH I KNOW

Mikey: Give me another! Hurry!

Scrambling for an unknown reason, you started to type out one before erasing it in exchange for another.

You: Does a straw have one hole or two?

You stared at the blank screen with an odd impatience until again there was a snap of bubbles and several images jockeyed for screen time.

They were a series of different images all conveying that his mind was blown.

Then another bout of silence.

Your cubicle felt way too large.

You were a tiny speck amongst moveable walls.

Mikey: GOT HIM!!!!!!!!!!!

A series of party gifs appeared in rapid escalation.

Mikey: He stuttered and everything

Mikey: Leo: one- no two… wait…?

Mikey: THE LOOK ON HIS FACE

Mikey: I’m running now btw

Mikey: He’s totally chasing me

Mikey: Dropped his cereal!

Mikey: LOSER IN THE BATTLE OF THE MINDS

An image of a chef loading penne into a gun had you slamming your phone down.

Hand over your mouth, you tried to contain your laughter until you stumbled away.

Far from the too big walls of your office and into the bathroom where you released your giggles.

You could see it.

You could see Leo turning to brotherly rage after being beaten by a quip from his younger brother.

The playful nature of chasing after him, bowl in hand.

Then the fateful spill where Mikey left him to clean up the mess.

Sputtering and washing your hands only to feel the cool water, you attempted to reign yourself in when you felt a similar bubble and pop as Mikey’s messages gave.

You’d mistakenly activated something.

Something you’d be stuck with. 

It was too late in a non-lethal sense.

That something was a week of near non-stop messages from the orange turtle.

Or rather the Ornate Box variety, which was one of many things you’d mistakenly waded into knowing about the man.

He had an awe inspiring bit of knowledge from over a dozen fields, though he wasn’t an expert in any of them.

He had ADHD which he spoke of as some shitty roommate he was forced to deal with.

He had over a thousand reaction images all sorted by mood.

More than one of which he’d created and you realized you were vaguely aware of them as they’d gone viral.

He had no idea anyone else used his pictures.

He both had a huge and non-existent social media presence.

A handful of accounts with millions of followers, he was a ghost of a bygone era that some people still whispered about.

He had completely forgotten. 

He’d logged off one day after deciding that it wasn’t good for his health and never looked back.

He didn’t even seem to have realized he had that number of followers in the first place.

He was authentically him.

That made him dangerous.

You understood now why younger Donnie had shunned him. Someone that open was terrifying. His power was too great for one single soul to hold, even with his faults. Those came mostly in the form of his attention span which made you almost wonder if he was struck with his attention disorder if only to restrain his power. The odd balance of the universe that Mikey himself had explained to you one night, he was as he needed to be.

He was infectious.

The clear baby of the family, he also appeared to be the other men’s favorite. Setting aside how they were loudly ranking one another, it was how Mikey conducted himself that had sucked you in. Even when he was plowing, bullheaded, into something without a care for the repercussions, it was difficult to fault him. It was comedic in a sense, but in a larger one it was more.

He was devastatingly earnest.

Not once had pretext revealed.

It had been on your way back to your desk after refilling your water bottle on the third day that you realized he could have an ulterior motive. You guarded yourself then. Reading back to see if you had let something slip and keeping an eye out moving forward. 

Only, he’d smashed the thought.

Unlike Leo, he never seemed to lead anywhere. 

In fact, he hadn’t brought up Donnie once since that first message. In the time since, you’d mostly placed that surprise as one he related to cuisine itself. Cooking for Mikey was elevated to an art form and he respected it with the worship of a clergyman.

In that way, he seemingly understood Donnie better than you.

From the way Mikey talked about food, it was nearly the same as Donnie talked about his passions. They both had the brash exterior of a scientist with a careful consideration of blasphemy in case their faith was infringed upon. Things were meant to be done a certain way, whether it be handed down by their field’s forbearers, and to deviate was a cardinal sin. 

Mikey was a little more self aware. 

Though he hadn’t brought it up, you eventually placed that original conversation hadn’t been about some chef, but about Mikey himself. 

That was why he’d thanked you.

He was explaining away his own confusion.

A learned habit you imagined came from a family where actions were rarely done with obvious intention, he was definitely the type to beat a point to death.

It only acted to enhance his innocence.

He could only be a mastermind far beyonds the likes of Donnie if he intended anything else. 

Your conversations were nothing more than two people casually getting to know each other. 

He was a regular guy with a love of life in spite of its hardships.

Even after the long day he’d had yesterday where everything had gone wrong and a villain had made off with a little old lady’s retirement check. Mikey’s resolve hadn’t been shaken. He’d taken the woman to go get groceries even while she made comment after comment about his species. He spoke of it all with a sense of levity and how, when he’d carried her things back to her apartment, she’d berated him outside of it in case he thought to rob her later. All taken with a grain of salt that he dismissed as he didn’t know the life she lived, he then explained the art he’d seen.

On the way home, beaten in a mental sense and, not doubting, but worn on humanity he’d sworn to protect, he described a mural.

Graffiti that he refused to take a picture of as that would muddy its message, he wove poetry about its lines. Colors warm like a sunset, he’d gone and traced the paint against the brick. He described the bubbling of the layers and how he could see which direction the artist took the cans in vivid detail.

He hadn’t even needed to say it renewed his faith.

There was no ending message that said he was reminded of why he chose to do this.

He only explained the mural before switching subjects as if that life affirming event meant as much as asking about a TV show you’d been watching the night before.

Donnie had taken notice.

You knew that right away, the first time you responded to a message in his periphery.

You texted your friends regularly, but this was new.

That excitement of getting to know someone in a flurried catch up.

He’d never seen you like this.

He also didn’t mention it.

You were thankful.

You hadn’t figured out how to explain it.

Donnie respected you.

You loved him.

It probably wouldn’t have been an issue had it not interrupted on the fifth night.

You and Donnie had been making love. You languished in calling it vanilla because that was the world’s most expensive and coveted spice. Never a dull moment with your partner, it was a casual renewal of your bond that had been interrupted by your phone vibrating loudly on the nightstand.

Kissing Donnie away from the distraction, the sudden flood of messages meant that for you the sound became a backdrop. It had taken less than a minute before he'd abandoned your lips to glower down at you.

“We’re not discussing this while I’m inside you.”

He knew.

Of course, he knew.

He knew you were talking to one of the other turtles.

He might even know which.

You would to drill him on the how after.

“Gonna be hard…” You feigned trailing off and nudged from beneath him.

He took the bait with a wary lowering of his lids.

“Considering there’s always some piece of you inside…”

He’d growled and under the cover of fucking you for your insolence, your phone had somehow been thrown safely across the apartment.

When you found it after, you ran through the messages accrued. “Are you mad?”

“Why would I be?” He responded without pause.

“How’d you know?”

“Yesterday morning you asked me to grab your phone.”

You looked over where he was folding some freshly cleaned sheets.

“I don’t usually inspect your electronics. You received a message as I was passing it off.”

“Why… aren’t you mad?”

“Are you under duress?”

“No.”

“Blackmail?”

You snorted. “Not even.”

“That one is…” Donnie’s lip curled with silent fury.

You felt guilt. “He’s a lot.”

“Incessant.” Your boyfriend looked right at you.

“He’s something… I don’t know.”

“It’s not my business.”

“I mean, it is.”

“No.”

“Donnie.”

“Who you speak to is not.” He snapped a top cover. “I trust your judgment.” He turned to construct a stack and moved away.

It wasn’t a blessing, but in an abstract way you understood where Donnie was coming from.

“Now if it was the blue one…” Donnie murmured from beyond your sight.

You had rolled your eyes and kept talking to Mikey.

Around the tenth day, it had become part of your routine. He wasn’t the type to necessarily wait or care for a response. He’d blow up your phone at any and all hours and as the newness of him wore off and settled into what seemed like a long term thing, you now responded to him at specific times. Usually catching up in the morning and at lunch, his late night messages were slowly forgotten as you had a series of new year hangouts with friends. Donnie’s attendance had been relegated to only one event where he devastated his social battery through one droning charcuterie board.

Resolutions to enact now that would surely be forgotten by February, your schedule was filled. It was after one such lengthy dinner that you’d come home, greeted Donnie, buried yourself in sheets, and realized you hadn’t heard from Mikey all day.Unearthing your phone as you cuddled up against your drowsy partner, you found no messages in your inbox and your brow came down with concern.

Mikey always messaged you.

The quick worry was doused just as fast as you reminded yourself how busy you were. He surely was as well, especially with all his hobbies, and also you barely knew the man’s real schedule. Your conversations with random ones, usually dictated by whatever topic of the hour interested him. It had been so easy to rely on him leading that it was sort of eye opening to find he hadn’t been the one to reach out. It made you scroll back through your messages where you quickly found that not once had you ever instigated.

Is this why he checked out from reality?

That flippant part of him, his supposed failing.

People were so quick to attach themselves to him, did he have to hold everyone else at arm’s length?

He made it simple, but was that his intention?

He never had ulterior motives.

Even when he was setting up for a punchline, he’d mistakenly jump the gun without waiting for the lead up because he was so excited.

He was good natured.

Leaning your head further against Donnie’s carapace, you wondered if there was something beyond.

If this was how he treated everyone around him, then there must have been an inner layer.

The true self he protected, was it a worried one?

Did he break?

Did he cry?

Was his heart always on his sleeve?

A bleeding one.

You felt Donnie rouse.

Stilling, you felt bad for having woken him.

“You okay?” He asked without bothering to look over his shoulder.

“Yeah, you go back to sleep.” You nudged him with your nose.

There was a long bout of silence that stretched and made you think he had done just that.

You sat amongst versions of Mikey guarded.

A series of clay soldiers, each modeled to protect their host.

All fragile in their own ways.

“It’s about him.” Donnie spoke softly, carrying little in his tone.

You nodded.

“We can…” He hesitated before unintentionally clicking his tongue with parted lips and an exhale. “In truth, I would rather never speak of this, but it concerns me. I don’t want you to feel that you cannot speak to me about something.”

You gave a small understanding huff.

He gave the gentlest shove backward to alert you that he was going to roll over.

You moved out of his way.

He got situated on his opposite side and stared you down. “A lengthy way to say: speak to me. About anything. Regardless. Even the blue one.”

“I feel guilty.” You blinked up at him. “That’s not why I’m upset right now, but I feel guilty about talking to him after what he did to you.”

“That is not your fight.” He brushed your cheek.

“We’re one. You’ve said that before. I should hate him. That would be doing right by you and-”

A finger pressed to your lips cutting you off. “I appreciate the thought, but no.”

You pursed your lips against his digit.

“How to explain…?” He asked the air. “Our union is to share burden. To ease the other. Do I seem perturbed?”

You looked around the top half of your vision and hoped to indicate that certain messages received had interrupted one union in particular which garnered his ire.

He pinched your lips down against his thumb.

You giggled.

“My quarrel with them has not been put to rest, but it is as good as dead. With the rat’s deal and our current trajectory a lifelong one, I can’t see a way in which that would change. That does not mean I am not cautious, only that they are bound by duty to you as am I.”

Your eyes widened.

He came in to rest his lips against your forehead as he spoke. “You have unintentionally settled a life long grievance. I am content in knowing I hardly have to think of them.”

You touched your pads to Donnie’s plastron.

He took it as you wanted to see him and backed up enough for you to.

“You’re okay? You promise?”

“I will inform you if I do not care about a conversation’s contents. If you give me fodder otherwise then I have grounds to take up the sword as I have always wished.” In the dark he especially glinted with malice.

“Are you using me?”

“Not explicitly.” He caught a playful kiss.

You pushed him away. “Terrible.”

He hummed an agreement.

“I’m worried is all.” You had to stop and locate your phone. “He went from messaging every day and then today nada.”

“Did he have plans?”

“He’s always doing something…” Your brow furrowed.

Donnie looked up and away with a sort of satisfaction.

“I’m hoping he’s not dead.” You retorted, dryly.

“Your loss.” Donnie responded with another wicked smile.

“It’s too soon to ask. I guess part of me is worried he’s already-” You cut yourself off.

Since when had you become attached?

Sure he was fun to talk to, but you knew loads of fun people.

Mikey was something all his own, but there were millions of people on the planet.

He, in particular, had a specific glaring failure of his person.

One that manifested across from you.

It was also the tether of which the two of you had met.

The odd dichotomy of it all felt abysmal.

What did you want?

It’s not like you’d thought Donnie would join their little family.

The dynamic would never be a solid one.

He had his own support system now.

At the same time, you felt a strange attachment to these beings.

The ones you could not help, but were inadvertently stuck with all the same.

You had always wondered what happened to Leo after the gym incident.

Had he reconsidered his position?

You hadn’t dared ask Mikey.

That wasn’t the youngest’s business.

Mikey had his own life to live.

They all did.

What bound them to you?

What bound them to each other?

You softened.

What binds anyone to anything?

You looked at Donnie anew.

Your partner shifted against his pillow watching you go through the motions.

“I thought we were becoming friends and I’m kind of sad in case he changed his mind.”

If surprise struck him in any way, Donnie betrayed none of it.

He only reached out and fixed a flyaway hair on your head.

“If he has, then he is a bigger fool than even I conceived.”

You buried yourself into your mate’s chest.

He rumbled a soothing churr and you let your eyes drift shut.

You would have made it to dreamland if a sharper nagging vibration hadn’t interrupted your journey. 

“With age, they say.” You felt Donnie pick up your phone from where it had once again been forgotten.

“It’s him?”

“Yes.” He passed you the device.

“Thank you.”

He only hummed a response before rolling over. “Wake me if you receive good intel.”

“Uh huh!” You snarked, rolling onto your back to check the message.

Mikey: Oh man group was wild today!

You: Group?

Mikey: Yeah! We ran a lemonade stand to raise funds and as an exercise and there was only one fire!

Mikey: New record!

An image of a cartoon penguin cheering came next.

You: I have no idea what you’re talking about

Mikey: Group! You know!

You: I really don’t

Mikey: Did I not…?

Mikey: Dang it! Why didn’t you say anything?

You sent an image you’d gotten from him of a cartoon character from your youth raising a judgmental brow.

He responded with a picture of a tanuki snickering.

You imagined he’d get along well with S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.

Mikey: Me and another mutant named Todd run a villain rehabilitation therapy group

Mikey: My other dad, Draxum, once put together a league of bad guys to try and crush or turn us or whatever he was doing at the time

Mikey: I forget

Mikey: Anyway Todd was a member (long story) but one day years ago when we were doing our yearly camping trip (longer story) I brought up how he was actually good and he said all the guys were good!

Mikey: I kinda…

You watched him struggle to respond for the first time.

Your gaze flicked to Donnie.

Mikey: Not to make it weird but have a personal tie to that

Mikey: You know

Mikey: You get it

Mikey: Anyway not to make you uncomfortable

Mikey: We decided to start a group with an open invitation coffee donuts the whole thing you see in movies in case anyone wanted to talk it out and learn why and whats of good and bad and if that’s really a thing cause I don’t think it is

Mikey: We all just got stuff

Mikey: Sometimes that stuff sucks

Mikey: You never know whats really going on with someone else

Mikey: Yeah!

Mikey: Wow that was long

Mikey: Is it hot?

Mikey: Are you feeling hot?

Mikey: Heat wave in January!

Mikey: Global warming!!

He sent a comic about people being hot tied to the concept.

You: You’ve been running this group for years?

Mikey: Yep! We just had our… I don’t know… like 4 year anniversary

Mikey: We’re gonna do something big for 5

Mikey: Four was like a pizza party

Mikey: tbf one two and three were also pizza parties

Mikey: Who hates pizza?

Mikey: It’s pizza!

Tapping your screen, you took a breath before sending your next message.

You: Are you doing it in hopes someone will come?

Mikey: …

You watched as Mikey stopped responding.

Was that too much?

He’d just skirted the topic for your sake.

Mikey: In the beginning yeah

Mikey: Like a small part of me

Mikey: Even when the rest of me gave up

Mikey: Always hoped…

Mikey: I don’t know

Mikey: It’s sappy

Mikey: The others call me dumb

Mikey: I thought I had a track record

Mikey: Good old Mikey he can convert the best of them with good intentions!

Mikey: The therapist of the family!

Mikey: All you have to do is talk it out!

Mikey: You know the wild thing about group?

He waited.

You: What?

Mikey: It taught me the exact opposite.

The period there really caught you.

Mikey: That even coming in with the best intentions doesn’t mean anything

Mikey: You can’t control other people’s reactions

Mikey: Only your own

Mikey: That good and evil is a stupid depiction

Mikey: No one is really one or the other

Mikey: I’m not better than anyone else

Mikey: I’ve done some stuff

Mikey: I’ll tell you

Mikey: That doesn’t read write in text…

Mikey: I won’t literally tell you

Mikey: Even though I could

Mikey: Man actually I might!

Mikey: Not the point though what I’m trying to say is there is so much out in this world and healing is a wild journey and there’s so many ways to take it and la dee da this is usually where people start to think I’m a crazy hippie man flower child born in the wrong decade!

Mikey: Point is

Mikey: I stopped doing it for him or anything else

Mikey: I do it for me now

Mikey: I love therapy and if someone else gets something out of it then I’m STOKED

Mikey: And not cause I did it

Mikey: Its getting to see them do it?

Mikey: Them break through their trauma

Mikey: To see themselves as something more than what they were told or what they were forced to be

Mikey: Whatever

Mikey: It’s great

Mikey: How was your day?

You smiled and clutched your phone to your chest for a long moment before returning to the text chain.

You: How often do you do it?

Mikey: Every Wednesday!

Mikey: Wait

Mikey: OH ME GOSH DO YOU WANT TO GO!?

Mikey: YOU SHOULD TOTALLY COME 🤩

Mikey: Wait not because I want you know who to come you get that right?

Mikey: Oh gosh you don’t think that that’s what I’ve wanted all along right?

Mikey: The weight of my actions is suddenly a bus!!!

Mikey: Y/N!!!

You: I don’t! Stop! You’re spiraling!

Mikey: Fweh

Mikey: Really?

You: Yes! Stop!

Mikey: FWEH

Mikey: Bullet dodged!

You watched a Matrix gif appear

Mikey: Fr tho I think everyone should come

Mikey: Dad came by once!

Mikey: Leo won’t!

Mikey: Jerk! He needs it most!

Mikey: Raph comes when he can but everyone always ends up attacking him its funny

Mikey: Drax is always there tho

Mikey: YOU CAN MEET HIM!!!

Mikey: …

Mikey: I should be honest about something

You: ?

Mikey: Not the first messages but like after

Mikey: How I kept messaging you wasn’t totally innocent

You squeezed your phone.

Mikey: You… I don’t know what you did but like obviously you reached Donnie but you super did something to Leo

Your head fluffed your pillow.

Mikey: Like seriously hes been different

Mikey: Softer

Mikey: Kinda thoughtful?

Mikey: He was peak mad before so its a really noticeable change

Mikey: Like hes finally thinking about things instead of just holding his usual grudges

Mikey: I had to see what the big deal was about you

Mikey: Were you stepping on my therapist territory?

Knowing he would keep going on, you penned out a message.

You: What did you find out?

Mikey: That you’re just a person

Mikey: Just like everyone else

Mikey: I should have known

You watched a gif appear where a random cartoon character asked how many times they had to teach an old man a lesson.

Mikey: That’s a beauty of life

Mikey: You just keep learning!

-

Standing outside a community center, you thought about what you were about to do. 

You were going to attend this week’s group therapy session with Mikey. 

He hadn’t been intrusive when you dodged responding to his offer, but in the last few days, you had asked question after question. He accommodated them like some kind of monk and when you finally requested the address, he unleashed a barrage of memes that had momentarily slowed your phone to a crawl.

Berating him for it, you’d gotten the information and ended up here after work.

A few people trickled in around you, human and otherwise, and from your last text with Mikey, he was here somewhere to set up the dreaded chairs he had told you so much about.

Shooting off one last message to Donnie and having already promised to take him out this Friday as pittance, you heard a gasp to your left.

You were slow to turn and then forced to look up.

“Y/N!”

“Hypno!” You went straight over to the hippo who cordially took your hands.

“Small world! What are you doing here?”

“I’m going to…” You glanced center then back. “Are you…?”

Hypno lit up. “Could you believe? I found these meetings after our little soiree!”

“The group? Wait, I’m glad you’re okay! I’m sorry we got separated-!”

Hypno blew a raspberry and rolled it into a sound. “Pssha! I’m quite alright. Knew I would be! Knew you would be too! I like to imagine I cleared the way for your escape! Not my first shindig ruined by those infernal turtles!”

 You couldn’t help but chuckle. “Still…”

Hypno nodded furiously before gesturing for you both to move. He then offered his arm and you took it with him covering your hand comfortably with his own. “Yes, well, you inspired me that night.”

“Me?” You craned your neck.

“Why yes!” He huffed, holding his head high. “Softening the great Donatello! Weren’t you something? You were!”

“I’m just…” Mikey’s text rang in your ears. “…a person.”

“It only takes one to change your entire trajectory.” Hypno told you thoughtfully as some random man held the door. “Thanks, mate!”

The man responded in kind and even scrambled to get the second double door. More pleasantries were exchanged and you entered a gymnasium where a bunch of fold out chairs were formed into a circle.

“Where was I…? Oh, yes!” Hypno squeezed you in a move to steer you towards the refreshment table. “Our little talk sat with me, you know? Give yourself more credit. You got through to this old hippo’s heart! You made me think, ‘Hypno, old boy, do you like the villainy or do you like the captive audience?’ That was you!” He released and you stared at a table covered in a cheap cloth with donuts and drinks dotting its surface. “Do try Todd’s lemonade. It is absurdly delicious.”

“Mikey said.” You eyed the sweating pitcher and Hypno poured you a glass.

“Michelangelo!?” He crooned, passing you the first and pouring his own. “That’s new! You weren’t too keen on him last I saw!”

“Last I saw he was attacking you…” You grimaced and tried to cover your nerves with a sip. Hit with a  sudden burst of sunshine flavor, you had to set your glass down and exchange it for the entire pitcher. “What is in this!?”

“Right!?” Hypno downed a cup that was too small for him and you poured him a second. “This is Todd’s true evil.”

“I’m hearing a lot about this guy…” Things were moving too fast. 

You’d meant for this to be some casual peek into Mikey’s life. 

Everything felt like it was suddenly happening so fast. 

You didn’t mind the company. 

You’d thought of Hypno off and on since you last saw him. 

Reconnecting with him was a great bonus, but there was something unsettling about how unconcerned you felt. 

“You’ll meet him! He’s…” Hypno scanned the room. “Not here yet or in the back, but he’ll introduce the affair.”

You nodded, sipping more of that citrusy drink.

“Bother! I keep getting distracted. It’s been too long!” Hypno gave an animalistic snort which caused his ears to wiggle. “As I was saying, again, I found this advertisement stuck to my shoe one day and chanced upon this lot. They enforced what I was thinking. There’s more to me than what I do. Some may use it to excuse themselves, but they’re missing the greater message!”

You watched on with wide eyes.

“And bollocks to our partners!” Hypno threw his head high. “We’re our own people who make our own choices, isn’t that right?”

“Well, yeah, b-but…” You hadn’t even bothered asking Donnie to attend.

“Warren can be a bit hardheaded…!” Hypno’s gaze narrowed before he wilted in a fond sigh.

“Love…” You patted Hypno’s arm sympathetically.

“Y/N!” Mikey’s voice cut through the room with an echo.

Suddenly surrounded, he was swamped with a dull murmur of greetings that he desperately tried to dodge. Everyone wanted something from him and he ended up outright screaming in someone’s face that he was busy. It split the crowd like a tide and allowed him to charge over without further interruption.

“See what I mean?” Hypno giggled a whisper to you. “If that’s not a form of so-called ‘evil’ I don’t know what is!”

You tidied up your laughter as Mikey reached you. 

“I did not think about how to say hi!” He announced and wiped his hand as if he was going to offer it to you before thinking better.

“Eh, it’s fine.” You shrugged.

“You know, Ron!?” Mikey sprouted, dispelling the strangeness.

“Hypno, please!” The hippo groaned.

“Mikey, please!” Mikey mocked back.

“I’m sensing a thing…” You gestured with your cup.

“It totally is.” Mikey stared listlessly at you before something over your shoulder caught his eye.

He animated with immense joy and blew right past you.

“Nice to be on good terms with your parents.” Hypno mentioned without malice.

“I think you turned out pretty good without them.” You told him as you turned to see where Mikey had gone.

You heard Hypno babble something emotional that didn’t connect to real words, but all reality seemed to close in at the menacing sight of an enormous fuchsia colored goat man. As if waiting for his spotlight,  the man then belted out a long burst of maniacal laughter. If it weren’t for the fact that Mikey was literally hanging off his arm, you might have been more worried about what you’d actually walked into.

“You finally got that darned pot working?!” Hypno cupped around his mouth to shout. 

“Yes!” The goat turned, revealing a coffee pot in hand by lifting it up high. “No more shall we suffer under wretchedly incorrect brew times!”

“Y/N!” Mikey called and, with a flip like a gymnast on a bar, snatched the pot from the man’s hands.

The goat turned his attention from Hypno to you as if you were some grotesque bug on the hippo’s lapel.

“Seems like you caught the Baron’s eye.” Hypno nudged your side.

“Baron?” You asked and were assaulted with a comment you’d heard before.

What I do know is I came into possession of a yokai known as Baron Draxum.

Hooves beat the wooden gym floor and you were now the Baron’s clear target.

You bumped Hypno who fussed and steadied you, unintentionally blocking your escape.

In a hop and a skip, Mikey reached you first and chirped happily. “Y/N! Draxum! Draxum, Y/N! This is my other dad!”

“Nice to… uh…” You stared up at Draxum as he glared down his nose at you.

“You don’t look like much…” Draxum spoke with a gruff voice.

“I’m really not…” You wilted.

Draxum craned a brow. “Hard to imagine someone so meek would tame one of my more successful creations.”

“Barry.” Mikey put on a bit of heat.

Draxum sighed. “It is nice to meet you. I await picking apart your psyche.”

Mikey shoved him. “He means chat! He can’t wait to chat!” He clucked nervously before continuing to push a stiff Draxum over to the chairs. “When are you going to remember that words mean things!? Different things!”

“My speech is impeccable.” Draxum huffed, allowing himself to be pushed as if he were on a dolly.

“If that’s worn you out then you’re in for quite the night.” Hypno tittered.

“This is…” You blinked at the magician and back to the crowd starting to form.

“A lot and it only gets weirder!” Hypno cheered and started to join while beckoning you to come with.

Staying close to what you mentally dubbed your accountability buddy, you both took seats. Mikey got Draxum in one of his own and shared with him a few stern words before he leapt away to plug the coffee pot in. Draxum folded one leg over the other and stared casual daggers at you while Hypno fed you gossip about the members.

“Hello, friends!” A small mutant appeared on the stage holding a puppy and though there was no one to operate that sort of thing, a spotlight shined upon him. Dressed in a preppy outfit stolen for a 1980’s catalog and with a puppy tucked under one arm, he commanded a silence that fell over the group.

“Look upon him.” Hypno joked in your ear. “You are in the presence of the Spine-Breaking Bandit.”

Your head flew to Hypno’s in complete disbelief.

“Did everyone get some lemonade? It’s a fresh batch!” The furry mutant easily leapt off the stage. ”I got service puppies for everyone tonight! Pet them to your heart’s content! They love that! And to whoever gets Steve, remember to scratch behind the little fellas ears because he just loves that doesn’t he?! Doesn't he!?” Dropping to a baby voice, the so-called Spine Breaker pet the puppy in hand before a dozen more poured out from the stage.

Everyone getting one as described, you soon had a mutt in your lap and Hypno was cooing with one snuggled up in each arm.

“Oh! Everyone!” The mutant clapped on approach. “I’m happy to report we raised $123 dollars for Repo’s surgery! Good job!”

“Enough for a single Tylenol.” Draxum clicked his tongue loudly. “The medical system you humans endure is more tragic than anything I could have concocted. Though I suppose you did survive those plagues….”  

“Yeah, I’ll take you experimenting on me again any day!” A strange hybridized mutant with rabbit ears slapped a monkey arm to his dog-like backwards knee and gave a bright bout of crowing laughter.

“Now, now. Every bit helps.” Mikey approached.

“Sure does!” The bandit chirped.

“Not to put you in the spotlight, Todd’s going to do that anyway, but we have a special guest tonight.” Mikey turned to address you.

Your eyes lost focus at the middle bit of Mikey’s sentence.

Todd.

The man standing next to Mikey was Todd.

The man with the puppies.

The man who made the sunshine lemonade.

The man he went camping with on a yearly basis.

Who ran the Cuddly Cakes Puppy Rescue.

Who founded his own scout troop that regularly won awards. 

He was the Spine-Breaking Bandit.

You turned to catch Hypno’s sleeve in a death grip.

Behind you Mikey was still going through his introduction.

“Tell me you were joking!?” You shouted at the magician. 

Hypno blinked. “Which part?”

“That is not a Spine-Breaking Bandit!” You threw an accusatory finger at Todd.

Todd put a hand to his chest.

“That’s a-that’s a-!” You stuttered, not knowing what kind of mutant he was.

He was a fuzzy one.

He was a soft one.

“Capybara.” Todd offered.

“Capybara! Capybara?!” You turned to stare at him. “That’s the most friend shaped one!”

Todd giggled. “Aw shucks!” 

“I thought you were honest with me!”

Draxum gave a single chuckle that he tried to cover up under a hardened exterior.

Poser.

“I was…” Hypno urged you to calm down.

“Yup!” Todd offered, walking over. “He’s not wrong, ya know!” 

You gave an unhinged stare.

“It’s part of why I’m here today, silly!” Todd reached you and held out a hand. “I know better than anyone about the darkness that can grow inside of your heart!”

You shook his little claws.

“I’ve done a lot of bad things; I killed a lot of people.”

It seemed impossible staring down at this jolly fellow.

“I also decided that wasn’t what I wanted anymore…” Todd released you and you could tell he was addressing the room. “Physically, by mutating, I was given a new lease on life. I didn’t have to run from the police anymore. I could start fresh. I had a choice! So it happened after I broke into the zoo to snap the spine of that worker who’d made fun of my teeth earlier that day, sometimes it happens! Chances come when you least expect them!”

You gawked, stepping back to give him the floor.

“Friend!” Todd looked up at you. “Capybaras have quite the sweet reputation. Who’da thought? Not me! But it was through these fellas and myself that I realized nothing was permanent!” He rounded and everyone’s spirits seemed to raise. “You’ve all heard the story enough. I won’t bother y’all with the details again, you all know! The morals are the same!”

“Yeah!”

“We’re not just evil!”

“They’re just words!” 

Todd smiled. “What I’ve done qualifies me to help. I know what it’s like. I saw what I was capable of. I learned I could choose to be kind, to be happy. To spread joy! How else could I stand before all of you?” He did a turn with his arms spread. “To understand is to have been there or learn by proxy…” With a glance, Todd nodded to Mikey who shot back a grin. “Which brings me to you…”

You tensed.

Your proxy wasn’t one who wanted a spotlight.

In fact, your proxy wasn’t supposed to be affiliated with any of this.

Your proxy wasn’t here. 

“It’s all because of you…”

Could you stop him?

He was the Spine-Breaking Bandit. 

There had been something he’d clearly left out of his transformation.

It very much sounded like he had still killed that zoo attendant.

“… that Hypno joined us!”

You paled before color struck you with a slap.

It seemed so obvious.

Not everything was about Donnie. 

Wasn’t that why you were here?

Hypno chortled, bashful. “Oh, stop!”

You trailed after Todd as he approached the magician. “You know they also say Hippo’s are the deadliest land mammals!”

“What do they know!”

“Hypno would never!”

Hypno smiled at Todd and then you. “Thank you.”

“I really… didn’t… do…” You watched the faces look upon you with warm welcomes. “… anything.”

“No?” Todd spun around to give you his attention. “I don’t think that’s true, friend, but why don’t we listen and see!?”

“It all started when I was a boy…!” Hypno began and everyone took their seats. Watching the meeting, each person took their turn amongst the attentive group. Between short shares, Todd or Mikey would speak up and reaffirm or point out a note in someone’s story. Of the humans there were ex-cons or those wronged by the system. From the mutants they were either deemed evil by existence or had turned to crime out of necessity.

Even Draxum, who had served as a lunch person for several decades now, took a moment to share a moment where he had not killed someone who bumped into him at the grocery store.

They acknowledged kindness in that and you couldn’t help but think that there was.

You didn’t know, but it seemed clear Draxum was working through some long bred hatred.

It made you wonder how old he was. 

What with his plague comment and all. 

It was also painfully obvious that he was only there for Mikey.

His son meant the world to him. 

It made you think that if he had succeeded in his ridiculous plan to raise warriors then it would have never panned out the way he thought.

Parenthood would have softened him more than it already had.

Nothing was so obvious.

As the group came to a close with words to work on, you mused over your partner.

Like Leo, you couldn’t imagine Donnie attending, but that didn’t mean either party was lost.

Each person handled themselves differently.

You were all trying to survive.

There was sure to be some actual darkness out there, but none of it seemed to be around you.

People were standing and you moved with the group for the sake of it.

Hypno ushered you with quick words saying he had to go as Warren was waiting, but he took the time to exchange numbers with you in a blur. Happy with the exchange, you shared a quick hug and the room soon emptied out. Todd was wrangling puppies and Mikey dismissed him saying he had clean-up. Thanks were passed for another week and a few slips were signed until it was just you, Mikey, and Draxum left.

“This would be done instantly with my vines.” Draxum complained, carrying a row of folded chairs.

“And I’m not in the mood to explain to the center why we busted the floor for a ninth time.” Mikey rolled his eyes.

You moved to close up a few chairs on instinct.

“You don’t have to do that!” Mikey called out. “What’dya think?”

You shut the single chair you had and held it to you. “Did you know what I’d get out of this?”

“No?” Mikey stopped with a too large stack that quaked as he thought the point over as if it was new to him. 

Before he could come to a conclusion, there was a domino affect chair slide that took Mikey out with it. 

Draxum folded a hand on his hip as if that proved a point.

“Fine!” Mikey bellowed before bringing up his hands. Within a blink his eyes swam in a sea of orange and you stumbled a bit as basal fear caught you. In an instant, chains shot out around the room and you scrambled back with a little noise. Not necessarily captured, you were encased in a n amalgamation of a laser grid. 

Different than anything you’d seen, they moved in a sort of coordination and you settled realizing the chains were hooking through all the chairs. In a taut pull, they all folded up via gravity and then in a flick, they traveled in a cohesive clicking system until they were placed in a rack on the far side of the room.

“Happy?” Mikey’s power tapered off and he glared at his dad.

Draxum gave a satisfied nod and approached the snack table to grab some coffee from the newly fixed machine.

You stared after him as Mikey watched over.

“He’s impressed by you.”

“Doubt that.” You glanced at Mikey.

Mikey shrugged. “He is! Probably from you calling Todd out. He likes when humans don’t follow what he calls norms. Something about ones with fight in them.”

“I didn’t mean…” You shirked. “I’m sorry.”

“No.” Mikey held his hands up with a sarcastic purse of his lip. “Please, telling someone they aren’t what they are at therapy? Totally cool and normal.”

You put your face in your hands.

“What did you get out of it?” Mikey asked, unwilling to pass forgiveness.

That seemed so very like him. “Something I was feeling about you all.”

“Us?... Wait, me?!”

You nodded out of your hold and let your arms fall to your sides. “You know when I first met you all I thought you were the villains.”

Draxum snorted into his mug.

Mikey shot him a dirty look before returning to you. “Cause Donnie lied to you!”  

You smiled. “Just like your first text. You use his nickname.”

Mikey flushed on contact. “N-nickname? N-no! That-!”

“It’s okay.” You tapped his shoulder. “Well, it’s not. Even I wasn’t allowed to use it when I first met him, but I’m just saying, I get it.”

“In…” Mikey took a deep breath. “In almost every way I’ve accepted it. We’ll never be family. We aren’t.”

You nodded.

“But we are.” Mikey had a hollow finality to his voice that he sent to the empty room. “I’d never say it to his face.”

You gave a little upturn of your lips in understanding.

“You’re dodging my question.” He folded his arms.

“The one about you being villains or about what I thought of tonight?”

Mikey had to study you. “Both!”

“To the first, perspective, to the second… perspective. Same thing in different ways. It’s all about it, I hear.”

Mikey unfurled to give his own quirked grin. “Ain’t that something?”

“Quite.” Draxum walked up, leaving an empty refreshment table in his wake.

Not sure where the trash had gone and questioning if him being a goat meant he’d eaten everything and the tablecloth, you gawked at the man.

“Shall we add a guest to dinner?” Draxum made a show of bending his body to examine Mikey like he was below him.

The folded hands behind his back were rubbed with faint nerves.

Draxum was still trying.

He probably always would be.

“Yeah!” Mikey seemed none the wiser. “Y/N, wanna come eat with us? We do this after every meeting!”

“Um…”

Draxum rose back up and reviewed you benevolently.

“I think… I want to get back home to Donnie, if that’s okay?”

“Oh, sure!” Mikey acted as if he was waving you off, but at the last second, swung his body in so he could  pretend to whisper secret information in your ear. “Good choice, foods never as good here. Now brunch, brunch is the meal ticket you want to get on.”

“Brunch is not available to you as of yet.” Draxum made a decree.

Mikey nodded in a solemn way that said he already knew. “It’s a whole thing.”

“You must prove worthy.” Draxum cracked his neck with a wicked smile.

“I’ll… try to get on the brunch ballot sometime then…” You glanced between the odd pair as Mikey bounced away.  

“Text me when you get home?”

“Sure.” You nodded. “It was nice… meeting you like this. In a less kidnappy way.”

“Yeah!” The turtle chirped.

“You too.” You looked over Draxum with a grin of your own. “Minus the last part, obviously.”

Draxum only gave you a single nod.

“He likes you!” Mikey sang.

Draxum punted Mikey clean across the room with a single strike.  

Mikey’s ring laughter at the act was the only thing that soothed you. 

You also took it as your cue to leave. 

You were never going to get used to that casual super-powered violence. 

It spoke of family, but their strength meant it pushed dangerous limits. 

It must have come with the territory. 

What with them created to be living weapons. 

Donnie was so easily tender you sometimes forgot what he was capable of. 

He also wasn’t raised with brothers. 

It was so strange to think that the cruelest amongst them was the softest. 

You very much wanted to curl up in his arms. 

Heading out into the dark night air, you decided it would be the first thing you’d do before unloading upon him this hell of a night.

NEXT

Always shouting praise to my betas @tmntxthings and @thepinkpanther83

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

the downpour

lilac, chapter seven

a/n: everybody, calm down! deep breath! because it's happening!!!

summary: “man, I can’t for the life of me remember the last time it thundered, nevertheless this much,” not glancing back at the silent figure leaning against the kitchen counter, you asked him, “can you?”

warnings: lumberjack!frank castle x reader, lumberjack AU, pete castiglione era, past domestic violence, crazy ex trope, slow burn, renovating an inn, real name reveal, kissing, only one bed, rain and thunder

word count: 2400

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Gently clamping down on the break, your bike slowly rolled to a stop.

“Pete!” you hopped off before the bicycle had come to a complete standstill, “hi!”

Craning his head out from under the hood of his truck, a faint smile appeared upon the burly man’s lips as he greeted, “hey,” seemingly taken aback by your arrival, riding through the forest just as the sun had nearly set completely.

Glancing to the twisted innards of his vehicle, you exhaled, “oh no, what’s wrong with your car?”

Seizing a dirtied rag that hung over the top, Pete then wiped his grease-covered hands with it, “I haven’t gotten to the bottom of it quite yet,” blinking down at his broad palms as he cleaned the viscous substance off them. 

“Is there like some car illness going around here or something?” you joked as your heel popped out the stand on your bicycle, balancing it before you stepped closer to the lumberjack. 

“What, is yours still at the shop? It’s been months!”

“It’s something about a specific part not being in production anymore so they had a really hard time finding it,” you grumbled, “and then they finally did but it’s coming all the way from Germany and it’s just a whole thing…”

Sliding your fingers into your pockets, exhaling slowly as you let the infuriating car trouble simmer back down, you heard Pete ask, “so, did you just come over here, late at night, to talk about cars?”

“Well, it is my absolute favourite subject ever,” you joked, adding sarcastically, “I know just so much about cars…” blinking up into his dark eyes, you then let the antic fade away, “no, I just finally measured those rooms and it turns out they are both big enough for double beds.”

“Oh, great,” his eyebrows rose softly in recognition. 

“I’m really sorry it took this long,” you averted your gaze, looking to the grass below as your fingers found an old and crumbled shopping list at the very bottom of your jacket’s pocket, “it was so kind of you to offer to make some new furniture for the place, I should have given you all the information needed so much earlier.”

“It's fine, it’s just a few bedframes, some shelves and such, nothing fancy,” he calmed your edgy nervous system, “I’ve gotten plenty done already without knowing all the information, but now that I do, I can finish, so thank you,” dipping his head a little lover to catch your gaze, he then offered graciously, “you wanna take a look? It’s not done yet, but it might give you an idea.” 

“Yeah, sure,” the smile that blossomed on your lips was impossible to hide, following his long stride as he marched into the open shed-like structure just behind where the car was parked. To the immediate right, tall stacks of firewood laid to cure, a dark tarp draped over one of the piles, but the earthy scent your nose picked up on was heavenly and caused a bit of tenseness, you hadn’t noticed haunted your shoulders, to fade away. 

“So, I cut out the side panels, legs and such for the beds since I didn’t know how wide they needed to be,” your vision flickered away from the various tools that hung up on peg boards on one of the walls, and fixated instead on the planks of well-carved wood that Pete presented, lifting one of them a few inches off the work table for you to take a look, “but this is kinda what’s going on so far, still need to sand it a bit more, put a stain on it, of course assemble it, but yeah, I hope this can work.”

“Wow, wait,” you craned down, pushing your wide eyes closer to the unfinished yet beautifully crafted pieces, “you made this?”

“Well, yeah,” he shrugged softly, “I mean, I can change it if you don’t like it–”

“I was fully expecting you just slap a few two-by-fours together and call it a bed,” you interrupted, momentarily tearing your eyes away from the timber to stress, “happily so might I add, but this is like actual furniture…” your fingers ghosted over the smoothed surface, “you’re really good at this.”

“Well, I do work with wood for a living,” he joked, head cocking to the side. 

“Do you sell these kinds of things?”

“No, no,” he glanced down at the way the fingernail on his thumb was absentmindedly digging into the opposing palm, “stuff like this is just a way to keep my hands busy.” 

“Well,” you glanced up into his eyes, “if you wanted to then you could easily make a pretty penny…” a gentle smile accompanied your genuine compliment, his own lips swiftly mirroring the same curve as he let out a wispy exhale. 

Just then, a crack of thunder echoed from somewhere in the distance. Whipping your head around to glance out the wide-open door, it took mere seconds for the abrupt rain to go from a gentle drizzle to a violent downpour. 

“Oh my god,” your feet carried you a few meters, shoulders jumping faintly as another bolt of lightning shot out from the dark clouds above. 

Eyes too glued to the skies, you felt Pete’s touch find your shoulder as he uttered, “we should probably head inside.”

“Yeah,” you nodded slowly, “good idea,” before your feet practically sprinted all the way up to the cabin’s humble porch, like a small child in the middle of the night, scared of whatever shadow monsters you thought to be real. Heading in first, Pete was right on your tail as you held the front door open a moment for him, swiftly slamming it shut behind him as giddiness coursed through your veins, “oh my goodness,” you squealed, curling your toes in your wet shoes, “I had no idea it was gonna rain!” casting your vision out the window, you let out an enchanted gasp as you spotted another thunderous bolt appear, “oh, Pete, look! That was such a close one,” your fingers found the windowsill as you muttered in amazement, “man, I can’t for the life of me remember the last time it thundered, nevertheless this much,” not glancing back at the silent figure leaning against the kitchen counter, you asked him, “can you?”

Not truly present, you then heard him utter, “…Frank.”

“Huh?” you finally glanced back at him, noticing how sombre his features suddenly were. 

“My name,” he breathed, noticeably having trouble looking you in the eye, “it’s not Pete, it’s Frank.”

“What?” you blinked, the thrilling weather abruptly forgotten, “what do you mean your name is Frank?”

As you gently inched closer, perplexity muddling your features, he hesitantly shared, “I did some shit, things that some people high up doesn’t want the public to know about, so I get to be Pete while they get to not be humiliated by their own actions.”

Lips slightly parted, a dazed breath escaped your lungs, “I–…” utterly stunned, your eyes fluttered shut as you tried to comprehend the bomb he’d just dropped, “alright… alright…” a headache nearly plagued your cranium from how tensely your eyebrows were knitted together, “I-I don’t know what say,” you squinted back at the man before you, “no one’s ever–… wow… your name is Frank?” he hesitantly offered you a light nod in confirmation, “Frank… Frank…” you heard yourself hazily repeat, tasting the new, and oddly fitting, name on your tongue. 

He didn’t utter a single word as you just stood there, doing your best to digest the staggering information. 

It took a long time for you to hear the rumbling rain again, your whole body frozen as you tried to relearn what was up and what was down. 

You had no idea how long the deafening silence drew out. Could have been a whole week for all you knew. But when your lips eventually parted once more, the breathless words that then spilt out couldn’t help but come straight from your heart. 

“You–… you scare me…” catching his weary gaze, you uttered with glossy eyes, “the way that you make me feel, that scares me so much…” your tainted track record caused your body to feel as if you could faint at any moment, “I didn’t expect–, I certainly didn’t plan for this, any of this, you. I didn’t expect you to–…” the rest of your confession then faded away as the boldness of what soon fluttered out of you took even you by surprise, “can–… can I kiss you?” scarcely drawing breath as you glanced back at him in apprehension, “because I really can’t tell if it’s okay or not, if you–” 

Seizing your fretful face in his hands, Frank promptly drew you in and drowned out the paralyzing worries that fluttered your system as his lips pressed against your own. 

You heard him draw in a deep breath through his nose, as if it was the very first oxygen he had let his lungs have in a whole lifetime. Your shoulders swiftly relaxed, noticeably dropping beneath where his rough palms gently cupped your flush cheeks, not only handling you, but kissing you as if you were made out of glass. 

As you eventually felt him gently draw back, you couldn’t help but dive back in, clutching his shirt and crashing your lips back against his in a kiss so fierce you nearly lost your footing. 

When you finally did part ways, you felt Frank’s broad thumb trace your bottom lip, staring at it a moment before his enchanted eye flicked up to meet yours.

Breathless and absolutely spellbound, gazing back at him, you eventually heard yourself utter barely above a whisper, “…the–, the rain…” you felt his heavy breath fan across your blush, “I should probably wait it out…” the undertaking of letting go of the soft cotton of his shirt seemed an impossible task, “might be dangerous riding home in this weather, especially on the tiny paths I’d have to take, they get so muddy, and it gets too easy to just slip and fall and if it happens at some of the areas that are kind of cliffy, then it could quickly turn into something bad…” you rambled as it felt like his gaze pierced directly into your soul, “and also the lightning? I don’t know about you, but I don’t wanna get stuck, that doesn’t sound very nice…”

“Might not be over till morning, though…” he pointed out, “you’re welcome to just sleep here if you want, I mean, nothing like that,” he reeled back a bit, wincing at the unintentional innuendo, “I wasn’t insinuating–,” but the end of his sentence didn’t get a chance to see the light of day as you raised yourself up onto your tip toes and planted a kiss of not only gratitude against his soft lips. 

The low groan that then rumbled deep within his throat sent a dizzying flutter down your abdomen, all collecting right between your thighs. As your lips consequently parted to let out a foggy whimper, you felt his nature instinctively seize the opportunity and sneak his tongue in to explore your own, intoxicatingly dancing, savouring your taste, as his hands began to wander, attempting to pull your form as close to him as physically possible.

At first, you thought you’d fallen, but then when you felt the cool counter beneath your bottom, you realized that he’d hoisted you up there, slotting himself in between your parted limbs as you held onto the sides of his face, fingers weaving into his scraggly beard. 

Panting, your chin abruptly tilted to the side, denying yourself of anymore before you got too far to be able to stop yourself. Eyes only half open, you felt his bulbous nose stay pressed against your cheek, lingering in your warmth for as long as he could.

“It’s getting late,” you breathed heavily, steadying yourself with a hand on either side of his broad shoulders, “we should probably go to sleep…”

As your neck began to straighten back out, his answer washed over you, sounding just as hazy as you had, “right,” one of his palms absentmindedly brushed the wild hair out of your face as you parted ways, “yeah…” pupils eclipsing the warmth of his eyes, you watched as he drew in on last breath before enclosing his grasp around your waist, helping you back down onto the floor, “you go on and take the bed, I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“No way,” a breathless chuckle bubbled out of you as you shook your head, “I’ll take the couch, I insist, I can’t put you out like that. I’m shorter than you anyway, so I’ll fit better,” you reached back to grasp the table behind you just in case the room decided to spin out from under you, “and if you give me your bed then I’ll just purposely stay up all night, not even sleep a second. So, if you want me to get some rest, then let me take the couch.”

Gazing back at you, a faint smile then warmed his features, “alright,” the vision not helping in the slightest at settling the butterflies in your stomach. 

“Do you maybe have a shirt or something I could borrow? Just so that I don’t sleep in damp clothes…” 

“Oh yeah,” the tiny task seemingly helped to take the edge off of Frank’s own fuzzy high, “I’ll, uhm…” he turned his back to you and wandered a few paces before he entered the far room, stopping before the tall wooden wardrobe visible from the doorway. Like his shadow, you slowly followed him, stopping just in the opening as you watched him pull out a black, folded-up item of clothing, “here,” he turned and handed the worn t-shirt to you, his touch lingering just a second, fingertips ghosting against the back for your palm. 

“Thank you, Frank,” you smiled, wrapping your arms around it and hugging it close to your chest like a teddy bear. 

“No problem,” your eyes briefly flickered to the bed in the corner of the room, juxtaposing crumbled linen sprawled atop the twisted iron frame made for quite the inviting image, even if you didn’t account for the actual dream that slumbered there every night, “the, uh, the bathroom is right through there, so you can just–, while I find you some blankets and such.”

© 2023 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[bevswashere]

Koi No Yokan

Chapter 30: Miss Fushiguro

December 2009 8 months later.

"I'm glad you took the time to meet with me, Miss Fushiguro."

"What did he do this time?"

"He stabbed his classmate with a pencil."

I look to the boy at my right, slumped in his seat with his arms folded as if he hadn't done anything. No, he knows he's done something wrong, he just doesn't care. "Why?" I ask him, not the principal.

"I told him to get out of my face," Megumi says. "I used the pencil when he got closer."

I sigh largely, massaging the center of my brow. "So, what now?"

"Your son is in consideration for suspension," the principal says. "I've brought up concerns about Megumi's behavior to your husband before—"

"He's not my husband."

The principal leans back in his seat, nods slowly, surely thinking two teenagers accidentally had a baby they can't control. Whatever the presumptions, they're better than the reality. "Your son has caused repeated disciplinary offenses, and is a danger to the rest of the students here. Expulsion isn't out of the question."

"We'll correct this at home," I try to say firmly. "Megumi will apologize to the boy he hurt."

Megumi immediately objects, "Who said I would—?"

"I wasn't asking."

The principal smiles. "Good, I hope we can get all of this in order."

We enter the parking lot, extremities tucked away in our coats to keep warm from the snow. "Seriously? A pencil?"

"Would you have preferred I use something else?"

We rush into the car and turn the heater on quickly. I breathe into my palms for warmth. "Is some other kid bugging you really so big of a deal you had to stab them?"

"It's not that he was bugging me," Megumi says, "He does it to a ton of the other kids too, pushing them around, taking what he wants from their lunches."

"Then tell your teacher, and have his parents meet with the principal." I pull out of the parking lot, back towards their apartment. "I'm not saying your intentions are wrong, but Satoru and I really don't have the time to keep going to these meetings."

"Then don't go."

Megumi, bundled in his coat, so small he barely takes up half of the seat, has his gaze fixed towards the window. "Would you prefer I say I don't care about your shit attitude, and just leave you alone?"

He doesn't answer me, and we remain silent for the rest of the drive.

∞

"You're late."

I sit myself down in one of the chairs of Yaga's office. "There was an emergency."

"You'll need to fix that habit by April."

"Spoken like a true principal."

"Let's try to be serious here, Kaede," he says. "Taking this job, you'll need to become a rock for these kids. That means no more lashing out, breaking furniture."

I defend. "I replaced all of it, didn't I?"

"If you're to lead young people, you can't act on your emotions like another young person. You need to be steady, reasonable." Yaga folds his arms. "And if a student dies, you move on, and teach the next one."

"That's harsh."

He takes a piece of paper out from his desk, and slides it across to me. "Order your uniforms, move your things into your new room and office. We'll go over matters of curriculum once that's done."

I unfold the paper to find only one line of text, an address. "You're sure this is right?"

"I'm nearly certain."

Taking the paper with me, I leave Yaga's office, only to turn back in the doorway, "Yaga Sensei."

"I'm not your Sensei anymore."

"Do you really think," I hesitate, "I can do this?"

"You're more than qualified."

"But am I strong enough?"

"Brazenly so."

∞

I boarded the soonest plane possible to Osaka, navigating my way into a run down condominium where the scent is sour and the dated wallpaper peels at the ends. I knock, wondering how long I would have to wait if no one is home, but I feel reassured by the steady flow of cursed energy growing closer to the door. I hear the door unlock from the other side before I'm met with wide green eyes. "How did you find me?"

"I called in a favor." I teeter awkwardly on my heels. "Can I come in?"

He opens the door wide, revealing the singular room apartment. All their clothes are neatly hung onto one rack, dishes and cookware piled in one stack by the dripping sink. A mattress is tucked away into the corner, across from it a fraying mattress pad, and between them one desk with books stacked beneath a short leg. "I know," Shigeri says, "What a fall from grace."

"Are you okay? You're eating enough?" Shigeri certainly looks thinner, more aged since we last spoke. "If you need money—"

"You came here to give me money?"

"No," I quickly defend, realizing how deplorable a person I must be, stepping into someone's home, expecting them to need money at first glance. "You stopped writing. I wanted to make sure you were okay."

"The clan is still making things difficult for us." He rubs the back of his neck at the thought. "I couldn't be sure they wouldn't intercept anything I send, figure out where we're staying."

"You're already exiled. What more could they do?"

"They're already interfering with me taking any missions which would be the quickest way to get income." I can see the stress on his face when he says this, weighing him down, sinking his stature. "They could have us evicted, make us homeless for the rest of our lives."

"Why?"

"Spite," he says simply. "I was supposed to take over as head of the clan. They don't appreciate stepping away from a role like that."

"I should have found you sooner. I could have done something."

"I don't want your money, Kaede."

"Then I could have sorted things out with the Kamo clan."

"And how would you do something like that?"

"I could go there and threaten to kill anyone who messes with you."

"Since when do you kill people?"

I stutter at first. "I don't, but they wouldn't know that. Or I could arrange a way for you to get missions without interference. I'll talk to the higher ups–"

"Who will refer back to the Kamo clan saying Uematsu Kaede knows where I am." He smiles somehow. "It's okay."

I look around again, dissatisfied with the way things have turned out for someone so kind. "Where's your sister?"

"Working. When the clan cut me off from missions we both picked up part time jobs. I didn't want her to, but they're good to her anyway, give her meals to take home." He frowns. "Don't give me that look."

"I'm not giving you any look."

Shigeri steps closer, smiles in the soothing way he used to, where his eyes soften and only his top teeth can be seen. "You're pitying me."

"Of course I am. You're sleeping on the floor."

"Stop it." He takes both of his hands and rests them on my shoulders. "I'm okay, Kaede-chan, really. I know it doesn't look ideal, but we're getting through it."

I'm only half convinced. "There must be something I can do."

"You came here. That's enough." He pulls me towards the mattress pad. "Here, sit. Tell me what you've been up to."

We arrange ourselves, sitting side by side on his mattress pad. I'm relieved to find out it's well-cushioned at the least. "I'm going to start as the first-year teacher at Tokyo High in the spring."

"Really?" he says. "That's great. You love kids."

I hesitate at first to mention the Fushiguro's, or the deep despair I've tried to fight since graduation, or my attempt to join the cult of a mass-murderer, but honesty has always come easy between Shigeri and I. The second I confess one feeling, the rest pour out.

"Good thing he turned you away," Shigeri comments, "That could have been troublesome."

"I can't say I would have actually hurt anyone." The comforter above Shigeri's bed is soft, velvet. I find myself playing with the hems. "But there was nowhere else to go. All my family was gone, then my friends."

"What about Gojo-san?"

"Forget him."

"I'm sorry that didn't work out." I laugh at this. "Hey, I mean it. I never wanted you to get your heartbroken, even if it was by him."

"It's fine. It's been a long time since then." I look out through their singular window, see the snow sprinkle onto the sill, quietly, gently. "What if you came to work at Tokyo High with me?"

"Let's try to be serious about this, Kaede-chan."

"I am being serious." My eyes meet his, soothing like pine. "Yaga is still looking for a third year teacher. If you can't get missions for now, you'll still have income from teaching, and you guys wouldn't have to worry about housing anymore. Besides, I won't have to fly every time I want to see you." Whatever I had to say next is cut off when Shigeri leans in and kisses me.

It's short, lips locking for only a moment before he pulls away, "Sorry. I had to know what it felt like at least once."

I let him because it's reassuring in some ways, admitting everything I had done, and him still wanting to kiss me. "Try again."

He scans my face, taken aback. "You don't have to." So, I lean in this time, feeling the hair above his neck ruffle through my fingers, his hand on my cheek. It's unexpectedly pleasant. His lips move with a certain tenderness, hesitancy that's comforting, makes me want it more. Even when his lips trail down to my neck it's light and loving. "So," my breath grows heavier, "You'll come to Tokyo?"

His words vibrate into my collarbone. "If you want me there."

I lean into him, feel the flesh of his ear against my lips, "I want you there."

I reach for his chin, lifting it to reconnect our lips. Then by the center of his chest, my hand guides him backwards into the mattress pad. I get on top of him, leaning over to resume our kiss. When I grind myself against him, I can feel he's hard. He moans into my mouth, but breaks away, "Not like this."

"How do you want it then?"

Shigeri props himself up onto his elbows, reaches out to push the hairs away from my face. " I meant not here."

I understood, however disappointed I may feel, and remove myself from on top of him to lay down at his side instead. He wraps a hand around my jaw, stroking the skin with his thumb. "You'll really come to Tokyo?"

"I'll go wherever you want me to." 

[novaonhere]

Buddy System

Relationship: Cal Kestis x f!reader

Summary: Cal wanted to go out on his own, but after not being by his side for quite some time, you bring up something you learned back at the Temple when you were just a youngling.

Word Count: 880

Warnings: Nah, sexy time proposed in a funny way

A/N: Bored at work so clearing through my drafts, here’s a quick blurb

Prompt: "Then why did you even come along?" "Because someone has to save your ass if this inevitably goes wrong."

(gif not mine)

————————————————————————

The crew, such to Cal’s disappointment, wanted to take a day break on Koboh at the cantina. After a few weeks hunting down bounty hunters, everyone was exhausted. Cal finally caved when you fell over after standing for a few minutes from pure exhaustion.

Cal was restless. He wanted to keep the go-go-go mentality, and keep hitting them when they thought they could take a breather. He wasn’t used to breaks; he was used to running, fighting, pushing through.

He sat outside the cantina, tinkering with his saber with BD-1 at his side. He watched the people come and go, wanting to follow one that started their journey outside the city. BD-1 tries to entertain him, chirping some songs that he picked up from Greez and yourself. It only worked for ten minutes.

You’ve kept an eye on Cal as soon as you landed. You knew he wouldn’t be able to sit in one spot for longer than a few hours. Staying aboard the Mantis, you used this time to lay on the boarding ramp, using the ship as shade to read a few books. Every so often, you peeled over your book to see if Cal was still there, which he was.

You got to a good part of the book and hyper focused for a bit too long. Finally, after you flipped to the next chapter, you peered over to see your boyfriend gone. Aw crap, there he goes. You should’ve done more to help him relax, but he’s an adult he can manage. Well, apparently not. Throwing your book inside, you hop to your feet and take a better look. There goes the red head, following a raider towards their base. Something’s up.

You manage to find a balance of quickly walking and slowly jogging to catch up and hopefully not be suspicious. Cal flicks his head back and notices you making your way up. He doesn’t make a face as you look your arm into his.

“I watched him leave someone’s home with that bag, I have a bad feeling. The owner of the house was also crying.” Cal whispers, pointing to the large bag that the raider had in his hand. You nod.

“Now or later?” You ask, Cal shaking his head.

“I want to see where he’s going, see if there’s more stuff they’ve stolen.” The raider turns around to see us, but we wave and continue walking past him, coming up with a story to seem less suspicious. You both walk slow, causing the raider to groan and bump through you too to continue on.

“Well I’m coming with, obviously.” You smile, using your free arm to pat his arm. Cal seems annoyed.

“No, today was your rest day.” He whisper argues with you, causing you to raise an eyebrow.

“And to you, and you know that we don’t like others dipping by themselves.” You roll your eyes. “Do you know remember what we learned at the Temple?” Cal blinks blankly, obviously confused.

“The buddy system?” You ask, Cal shaking his head. “Seriously? Damn, we didn’t like that lesson as much so I figured you didn’t like it as much.”

“If you don’t like the buddy system, then why did you even come along?” Cal grumbles, not wanting their cover to be blown. You could care less about the raider and trying to talk to your boyfriend.

"Because someone has to save your ass if this inevitably goes wrong." You scowl, just too loud. The raider finally turns around, shoving his weapon to your chin.

“We are out of town, what business do you folks have with my team?” He hisses as you throw your hands up.

“Sir, we were told to follow a raider heading out of town to pay someone back.” You explain, the raider slowly lowering his weapon.

“Who?”

“You all look the same.” You state blankly, Cal holding in a scoff of laughter. The raider doesn’t seem amused.

“I’m not going anywhere,” The raider stands facing you two, crossing his arms. “You’ll have to wait for the correct man.” You and Cal look at each other, coming to the same agreement. Cal flings into action, bashing the raider back with the butt of his saber. Stunned, the raider drops the bag, giving you time to grab it and run. Cal follows, leaving the raider gasping for breath, laying on the ground.

“When we return this, you are going to properly rest.” You shout at him as you both run into town.

“Oh yeah? How?” He scowls, catching up to you.

“You look pretty relaxed after an hour in the bedroom.” You smile, shocking Cal. He smiles widely like a happy boy on Christmas morning.

“Give me the bag, and meet me on the ship.” He exclaims, slowing down as you reach town. You both stop and you give him a quick peck on the cheek. He rushes into the house, startling the owner.

Giggling, you make your way towards the Mantis. Before you get too far, you feel a pair of hands snake around you, turning you around. Cal places a sweet kiss to your lips before throwing you over his shoulders. You shriek in delight as he takes off to the launch pad, a few passer byers giggling at your shenanigans.

[keep-the-wolves-close]

Steady Heart

Chapter 39: Black Sky

* Pairing: Slow-burn Kayce Dutton x OFC Stella Daniels

* Rating: M

* Warnings: language, angst, suicide, Malcolm Beck, injured character, character death, violence

* Word count: 6,110ish

I would love to give credits to @dameronscopilot and @deanscroissant for being sounding boards for me during this whole process, giving outsider insight, being cheerleaders, and allowing me to screech at them about things that have happened during the writing process. I seriously couldn't have gotten this far without y'all.

Author's note: Here we are folks! Season 2’s finale! I hope everyone is enjoying so far! I hope you love this chapter as well! Thank you for sticking around this long, and I hope you continue to follow along with the story as we head through onto season 3!

Gonna take a little break to get season 3 and season 4 worked on some more, so bear with me!

It was still early in the morning of the second day after his son was kidnapped and his best friend landed in the hospital. Kayce had barely slept. His father was meeting with the sheriff this morning. There was nothing more they could do until Donnie cleared the way.

Kayce chewed his bottom lip as he stared off into nothing. His son was kidnapped and god knows where and his best friend was laid up in the hospital unconscious potentially never to wake up, all because he let himself be convinced to leave the ranch. He knew he should have been there. He knew it might have made a difference, but the opportunity had passed him. Now they had to defend their home and right the wrongs that had been done to them.

He could hear Stella’s voice in his head. ‘We can’t be soft defending it.’ Being soft was exactly what they weren’t going to do. If he knew her like he thought he did, she’d be practically begging to blow them and everyone involved to pieces on main street for everyone to see so that the message was received.

Kayce’s stomach clenched again at the thought of losing both his son and Stella. Monica’s soft voice came from behind him. “Have you heard anything about Stella?” Even though she was fairly certain about the relationship between her almost ex-husband and his best friend now, Monica didn’t think Stella deserved to be in the current situation she was in. Especially since it was because she tried to save their son.

Kayce wiped his hand along his clenched jaw. He hadn’t heard anything from Ryan or Colby since yesterday. The last they had told Kayce, the doctors said Stella had covered her face just barely good enough. She had some broken ribs, one hell of a concussion. There would be a gnarly scar along her face once it healed. He assumed she was still unconscious. Kayce was surprised the kick that caused the gash didn’t fracture her skull. She was lucky it wasn’t worse than that.

He absently shook his head. “Nothing new. Still unconscious I’m guessing.”

“Can we go see her?” Monica hoped Stella would wake up.

“We have to get Tate back. It — it wasn’t — supposed to be this way.”

“Your father is gonna take a while talking to the sheriff. Let’s go see her. If she’s in this predicament because she tried to protect our son, it’s the least we can do.” Monica turned to look at Kayce. “Ryan and Colby shouldn’t be alone.”

Ryan’s leg bounced continuously and he chewed on the side of his thumb. He numbly stared at his sister lying in the hospital bed. He was terrified that she wouldn’t wake up. The doctors and nurses had tried to convince him that her body was trying to heal itself. That she will wake up when she’s ready.

Aside from the bruised and swollen face, she looked peaceful. Ryan couldn’t understand any of this. He could, but the extremes threw him down into a spiral. He prayed to whatever god would listen. His mind was taken over and he was reminded of when their dad was in the hospital. He felt as helpless now as he had then. There was nothing he could do. ‘Except make sure those motherfuckers pay.’

A light knock behind him brought his and Colby’s attention to the door. It was Kayce and Monica. He breathed out loudly and his shoulders dropped. Ryan waved them into the room, standing.

Monica caught sight of Stella and gasped. Her hand flew to her mouth. She squeezed her eyes shut. She didn’t want to believe it was real. “Oh, Stella.” She whispered. “Ryan, I'm so sorry.” Monica pulled Ryan into a tight hug.

Ryan leaned into her grasp for a moment, and tried to keep himself from crying. He didn’t know what to say. At this point, he didn’t think there was anything he could say.

Kayce stopped moving the second he could see Stella lying there. His heart was in his throat and his palms went clammy. “This was a bad idea.” Colby stood and placed his hand on Kayce’s shoulder to keep him from running.

“It’s gonna be okay, man,” Colby gave Kayce’s shoulder a squeeze, “from what I can tell, it looks worse than what it actually is.”

Ryan let Monica go and said to Kayce. “Every single one of those sons of bitches are gonna pay, Kayce. For Stella and for Tate.”

Monica stepped up to Stella’s side. She prayed silently. She knew Stella could pull through. Monica knew that Stella was strong and hard-headed. Just like Kayce. However, this time around she needed some help. Kayce stood there speechless, trying to catch his breath. Monica prompted him softly, “You can come over here, you know. It won’t hurt her.”

Colby gently tapped Kayce’s arm to try and spur him into motion. A look passed between the three men. It was a glance of retribution promised, but sorrow, and understanding. Both of the most important people to the men were hanging in the balance, and there wasn’t much they could do for either of them. Kayce’s steps faltered. If he went over and touched her, it would make it real. He wasn’t sure if he was ready to handle that.

Monica was reminded of when she was in the hospital from the distressed look on Kayce’s face. She waved him over. She would at least give him some comfort, disregarding the split between them. He made it to the end of what felt like the longest walk in his life even though in reality it was only a few feet. Monica switched spots so Kayce could be closer to Stella. She placed her hand on his back, letting him know the support was there.

Kayce felt his eyes sting, and his breath got caught in his throat. He choked on his own air. He leaned down and kissed Stella’s forehead gently. He whispered to her, “we’re going to get everyone single one of the sons a bitches who did this to you. I promise you that, sugar. None of them will walk out alive.” A few tears dropped from his eyes, landing on Stella’s face. Kayce lifted his hand and gently wiped them away.

Ryan watched the scene in front of him and felt his heart crack even more. Before he could get too deep, his phone buzzed in his pocket.

Need you back at the ranch. A text from Rip read.

“Kayce, they need us back. I’m going to check in with the doctor and then I’ll be right behind you.” Ryan directed. He looked to his best friend. “Colby, can you stay with her so I know she’s safe?”

“Of course, man.” Colby patted Ryan’s shoulder. “If anything changes I’ll let you know.”

Monica gave Stella one last look and prayer as all three of them rushed out of the room. Kayce couldn’t bring himself to look back.

“Ryan, you take Monica with you. There’s a stop I gotta make on the way.”

“Kayce!” Monica called out. He snapped his head in her direction. She waved him closer. “I will not face this world without our son. You make sure you kill them,” she whispered.

“Don’t worry about that, Monica. If he doesn’t, I sure as shit will.” Ryan interjected.

••

Kayce pulled up to the M/T Beck Ranch to where Donnie’s deputies stood guard. He rolled the window down and the deputy closest to him stepped forward. He leaned out the window and asked, “how many in the house?”

The deputy shrugged. “Just him. As far as we know.” He placed his hands on his hips. “I need to see the warrant.” Kayce pulled the paper out of his pocket, unfolded it, and held it up to the officer.

The deputy nodded. “Alright.” His boots crunched in the gravel as he turned on his heel and sat down in his patrol car. The other deputy followed his lead. The car started and they pulled away without any further question, leaving Kayce to do as he pleased.

He pulled into the drive, just far enough that he could remain undetected, but close enough that he didn’t have to run a mile to get to the house.

He ran up to the front doors crouched, and gently opened the first set. They squealed loudly in protest and he winced at the disruption of the silence. When no one came to look, he continued through the second set of doors.

He looked in the living room and didn’t see anyone. Panning around the room, he saw a hallway to the back right. Making his way through the mouth of the hallway, he looked through each of the rooms as he passed them by, finding no one.

He continued pushing toward the back of the house. He came to a set of stairs. He looked down then first, but running water caught his attention from upstairs. He raised his pistol to aim ahead of him and traveled up the stairs. He climbed slowly and grimaced when he reached the top as the floor creaked beneath his weight. He banked on the fact the running water would drown out his extraneous noise.

Moving further down the hallway, he could see a bathroom sink at the end. The water was indeed running, and the sound of paper rustling grabbed his ears. He strode up to the doorway and spotted Malcolm’s brother Teal sitting on the toilet. He lifted his pistol with surefire accuracy and popped off three rounds in Teal’s gut before he barely registered someone was there.

Teal slumped forward and groaned in agony, holding his hand to his stomach. Kayce kneeled down onto the balls of his feet, his face flat but pleased. Teal sputtered in fear seeing Kayce’s resolute face. “Where’s my son? Where is he?”

Teal tried to catch his breath. “I don’t know,” he growled out. Kayce shot him in the calf without blinking.

Teal screamed in pain. “Stop! Stop!”

“There’s a lot of stuff I can shoot before you die.”

“The — Montana Free Militia. They’re who we used. They got him.”

“Where do they camp?”

Teal huffed and puffed. “Base of the Crazies. The Crazy — the Crazy Mountains.”

Kayce’s face hardened. “You ever been up there?”

“Yeah. Up 284. Just before Diamond City. There’s a,” Teal started to cry, “there’s a little beat up house,” Kayce made peace silently with what he was about to do after he got everything he needed from Teal. “Behind a bunch of junkers.”

Teal leaned forward and moaned. “Oh fuck. I’m shot to shit.”

Kayce remembered Stella’s words about not being soft defending the ranch and the family that stood behind it. “Don’t you know about my family?” His face scrunched in disappointment. People really had thought they’d gotten soft. “You didn’t think we’d fight back?”

Teal was crying. “No. Nobody ever fights back.”

“Until now.” Kayce raised his pistol.

“No, please. Please.” Teal begged. “Not on the toilet. I don’t wanna die on a fuckin’ toilet.”

Kayce’s face softened briefly. “I promised the mother of my son, and my girlfriend’s brother, I’d kill you. All a man has is his word.” He squeezed the trigger and the kill shot knocked Teal back against the back of the toilet.

Kayce took a different gun, and angled himself as if Teal was shooting back. He rubbed Teal’s hand all over the grip, getting his blood on it, then placed it on the ground just beneath his hand.

He stood and went back the way he came in. He pulled out his cell and called his dad.

••

Ryan was sitting on the porch with Jamie and Beth. They’d wanted as much of an update as he could give them. “She’s got some broken ribs, a concussion, wicked slash across her eye, and she’s unconscious.”

Jamie sighed loudly. “Shit. I’m sorry Ryan.” Stella wouldn’t be in this mess if she hadn’t been trying to protect his family member. She shouldn’t have been there at all. He wished he would have heard something, if she’d called for them.

“She’ll wake up, Ryan. If there’s anything I know about her, it’s that she’s spiteful. She’s not gonna let some pussy of a man who comes to kidnap a child in the cover of nightfall take her out.” Jamie and Ryan stared at Beth for a moment. The softness from her shocked both of them.

John came out of the house on the phone and made his way down to the grass determined. “Okay, good.” John took a breath. “You’re okay though, right?” He visibly relaxed at whatever answer he’d been given. “Thank god. Come home.”

The trio scrambled off the porch to catch up with the leader. Beth asked gently, “what did he say?”

John reached into his vest and pulled out a letter. “You need to make an amendment to the trust, Beth.” He leaned closer to give her the letter. “Read this. Then do what it asks.” He grabbed her shoulder. “I know who loves me.” He glanced at Ryan. “I know who’s loyal,” and then back at his daughter. “I always have.” He walked back into the house to get ready for the fight that was about to take place. Not only for his grandson, but the revenge for one of his employees.

Beth opened the letter and skimmed over it quickly.

Jamie watched Beth closely. “What does it say?”

“None of your fuckin’ business.” She headed off to do what her father asked. She needed to go see Rip.

“I’m gonna go down to the bunkhouse to get ready. We’re moving on them tonight.” Ryan departed as well leaving Jamie standing there dumbfounded.

John stalked back out of his house toward Kayce and Jamie standing in the driveway. A large SUV pulled up the drive fast, and out came Mo, Chief Rainwater’s head of security. He shut the door and made his way around and said, “I was sent here to help.”

John went into the red shed next to the house and grabbed a bullet proof vest. He turned and gave Kayce directions. “Go get Rip when he’s done with Beth.” Before Kayce could object John said, “I can’t risk you, son.”

Kayce marched up the hill that led to the new cabin Rip had been gifted. Beth had walked by him, letting him know where to find the man in question. Rip was sitting on the steps to the house. “Whattaya know Kace?”

“Stella’s torn up. Still unconscious. Tate’s with a militia. In the Crazies.” He shook his head. “We don’t have any time.”

“How can I help?”

“It’s a big ask,” he adjusted his ball cap, “can’t attack a fortified position without knowing the strength of our enemy. In Afghanistan, we’d send an armored vehicle into ambushes. Draw fire to know how many we were fightin’.” Rip nodded and Kayce rubbed the side of his face. “We don’t have any armored vehicles. I’d do it myself, but,” he stopped himself. He hated that he was even asking something like this of Rip.

“I know. I’ll draw your fire.” Rip rose off the steps with a groan. He began his march back to the barn with Kayce trailing behind him.

••

Ryan, Kayce, Mo, and Handon pulled up in the cover of darkness to the little busted up shack Teal had told Kayce about. Rip and John pulled up behind them with a horse trailer. The three men got out of the truck and put eye black on their faces to make themselves harder to see. Rip and John jumped out and started to pull their horses out of the trailer.

Kayce put on his gloves and surveyed the surrounding area with Mo standing next to him. Handon made sure his sights were good. Ryan reined in his anger and held it for when he got the chance to take the motherfuckers who hurt his sister to meet their maker. Rip walked up with his horse.

Kayce asked Mo, “you want a rifle?”

“I’m best with my pistol.”

“Pistol won’t pierce armor.”

“I won’t be aiming at their chest.” Mo looked at Kayce. He fully turned to Kayce, taking in his camouflaged face. “Got anymore of that?” Kayce handed the eye black over to him.

Mo walked over to Rip and Dude. He looked at Rip and got his approval to bless the horse for the hell they were about to go through. He traced a circle around Dude’s right eye. “So he sees danger.” He drew some more sigils on his neck. “So he is sure-footed.” He made his way to the gelding’s shoulder. “So the bullets bounce off.” He finished by drawing some on the horse’s hind quarter. “So he moves fast.”

Rip tried to lighten the mood the only way he knew how, hearing Stella’s voice in his head making a joke. “You sure you don’t wanna draw on me some?”

Mo chuckled. “Won’t work on you.”

“Yeah, I figured.” Mo walked away and Rip took a second to say whatever kind of prayer he could muster up.

John and Rip mounted their horses and trotted over to the rest of the group. John fixed his collar. “You know, of all the days to ask this of you, I’m sorry it’s today.”

“I can’t think of a better day for it, sir.” They shared a look. Rip nodded.

“I’ll be coverin’ you on your right.”

“Yessir.”

John took off to swing around on Rip’s right side. Kayce waved everyone forward. “Let’s get in place.”

Handon stopped next to him. “You think they got night vision?”

“Yeah, and thermal. You can bet on it.”

Ryan, Handon, and Mo moved forward to take cover behind some rubble that laid in front of them. They needed to be able to see where the fire was coming from and how many shooters there were.

Rip leaned back and took in the sky one more time in the moment of peace before all hell broke loose. He thought of Beth. Of Stella. “I love you.” He spurred Dude into action. He was ready to cause a ruckus.

As soon as he galloped by a small building on his right, shots started flying through the air. All of the ground men rushed behind him.

Kayce yelled out, running forward, “Livestock Police! Drop your weapons!” They dropped several men and took cover in between reloading time.

Rip pulled Dude to a stop. John cantered up to his side and hollered. “Livestock Police! Drop your weapons!” John raised his rifle and took out another one of the militia members.

Rip climbed down off his gelding, taking deadly aim and took out another. John slid out of his saddle to join him. Handon placed one of the men in cuffs.

Kayce, Ryan, and Mo came to the actual house the militia were staying in and surrounded it. Handon and Ryan took the back. Mo and Kayce took the front.

Kayce opened the front door and ducked back quickly. A few shots rang out from behind the door and while the man was reloading, Kayce and Mo took their chance to charge inside.

Each of the four took to clearing the house. Checking every room they passed by for Kayce’s son. The foursome came to a back room and there were three people left. Ryan and Handon got two of the people in cuffs. One sat in almost a meditative position.

Kayce had his rifle aimed at the man on the ground. He checked the room off to his right and went back to the man on the ground. “Where’s my son?” The man just stared blankly at Kayce. “Do you know, where my son is?”

The man scoffed. “I sure do.” He placed a gun in his mouth and pulled the trigger before anyone could stop him.

“No!” Kayce screamed. “Fuck!”

Back outside, John had just finished tying up one of the militia men that was still alive and he heard footsteps through the grass behind him. He grabbed his rifle and yelled, “hey! Stop!” He followed after the man running away.

The man that was running, turned and took a few poorly aimed shots at John, but John stopped him assertively with a round of his own. The man dropped to the ground. John stormed over to him, and he rose from the ground and took another shot at the patriarch. John squeezed the trigger again, hitting the man and making him fly back onto the ground.

He groaned in pain as John stepped closer to him. When John was almost on top of him, he realized it was Malcolm. Unbeknownst to John, the group he’d brought with him stood by the fence and watched as he stepped up to Malcolm.

“You deserve a lot worse than this.”

Malcolm rolled over to grab his gun, but John aimed his rifle and shot Malcolm’s arm. “Ah god! Fucking cocksucker!” He cried.

“There ya go. Get it all out you son of a bitch.” John retrieved Malcom’s weapon. “Now tell me where my grandson is, and I’ll getcha to a hospital.” He kicked Malcolm over. “You have my word.” Malcolm laid there crying. “Go on, scream. Scream till whatever makes you want to hurt a child, my daughter, my horse trainer to hurt me leaves you.” Malcolm rolled back over onto his back. “If there’s a heaven, and I sure hope so, this is your last chance to do something that just might get you in it.”

John sat down next the injured man and Malcolm spluttered. “You know, I think a lot about the ten-or-so years I’ve got left before there’s not much left for me to but sit around and reminisce. You on the other hand, have to cram a lifetime of reminiscing into the next thirty minutes or so. Or you could lay there, and not telling me where he is will be your last thought.”

Malcolm wheezed and John looked him over. He thought of his daughter and the atrocity of what Malcolm’s hired men put her through. “Not whoever you may have loved, or your brother’s ninth birthday. None of that shit. Your entire lifetime’s gonna be reduced to my grandson’s face. It’s up to you, Malcom.” The thought of Stella, beaten and bloodied, laid up in the hospital unconscious, for trying to protect his family. Doing the job he had asked her to do. ‘Until my dying breath, sir,’ whispered through his head and he shuddered. He prayed with everything in him that it hadn’t been her last breath.

Ryan and Kayce watched on as Malcolm twitched, trying to catch his breath. Ryan looked back at Kayce. “What’s he doin’?” Kayce shook his head and they both observed the moment before them.

John looked up at the sky while Malcolm sputtered some more. “That’s Jupiter up there, the bright one.” He shifted his focus back to the ailing man on the ground next to him. “Did you know that?”

Malcolm’s chest started to rattle. “Carter Meads. That’s his name. Whitefish, Montana.” He struggled to breathe as deeply as he could. “Whitefish, Montana.”

“I’ll call for a chopper. Get you to the hospital.”

“I ain’t gonna make it to a hospital.”

“Yeah well, I gave you my word.”

“I won’t hold you to it.”

“You want company or do you wanna be alone?”

“Alone.” Malcolm ground out. “I wi— wish we’d never met.”

“Yeah,” John laughed darkly, “I bet you do.” John made his way back to his men.

••

As the sun rose over the mountains in Whitefish, Montana, Sheriff Haskell’s truck and a squad car rounded the corner on the house where Carter Meads lived with their lights on. Kayce, Ryan, and Handon covered their backs down the hill from up top.

Donnie and his team loaded up on the porch, ready to ram their way in. They busted the door open and everyone filed in. They took out a few people in the front part of the house.

Going toward the back Kayce called out for his son. “Tate!” Ryan, Handon and himself made their way up the stairs.

Donnie had already made his way upstairs and opened a door in the back and immediately turned back to stop Kayce. “Kace! I need you to step back!” Ryan pushed forward. Handon held Kayce back as best he could. Donnie asked Kayce, “give my guys a minute. You don’t wanna see him like this.”

Kayce started to grapple against everyone in his way. Ryan was their last defense. Kayce busted through him yelling, “see him like what?!”

He broke through the wall of men and into the bathroom where his son was. Tate shrieked and he got up close to him, catching his focus and letting him know he was safe.

Donnie stepped up to the door and told Kayce, “we’ve got a trauma specialist on the way.”

Kayce hugged Tate and the boy finally calmed down long enough that Kayce was able to get him outside and into the truck.

The drive home was quiet. Ryan knew that everyone who had hurt his sister and kidnapped his friend’s boy was dead. A weight lifted off his shoulders knowing that everything had to look up from here. Now he just needed his little sister to wake up.

A small voice from Kayce lap startled everyone. “Aunt Stella tried to save me and they hurt her. Is she okay?”

Ryan’s heart shattered completely. They all knew Stella’s beating had to have been because she tried to stop the men. He kept the tears at bay long enough to look at Tate, who was hiding in between his father’s arms. “Yeah, buddy. She’s okay. And she’s gonna be real glad we got you back.”

Ryan, Rip, and Lloyd walked through the hospital entrance. Everything at the ranch was taken care of for the time being. Tate was home safe. Traumatized, but safe. Stella was safe, but Ryan didn’t know when she would wake up. If she would wake up. Ryan was thankful the other two came with him. He was grateful Colby was still here. That helped him shake the heebie jeebies off.

The men came up on Stella’s room. They braved themselves and entered. There were whispered curses from Rip and Lloyd. A nurse just finished taking her vitals. She smiled at the men, trying to bring some cheer to them.

“Her vitals are super strong, gentlemen. She wants to be here. She’s just gotta wake up.” She patted Ryan on the shoulder making her way out the door.

Ryan could do nothing but stand there and watch the love everyone had for his sister. Colby came to stand with him. It was at that moment that he knew they were with the right people. He leaned a shoulder on the wall to let Rip and Lloyd have a moment with her.

Lloyd walked up to her bedside. “Little bit,” Lloyd mourned. He reached out to grab her hand. “Those evil people are taken care of. Your brother and Kayce led the charge. You can come back to us now. Please.” He pleaded.

Rip joined Lloyd at Stella’s other side. He placed his hand on the top of her head after he removed his sunglasses. “Shit, Stella-belle,” he sniffled, “this isn’t the kind of trouble you were supposed to be gettin’ yourself into.”

Ryan moved into the room and took a seat next to his sister’s bed. He glanced up at Colby, “so what have they said while we were gone?”

Colby crossed his arms. “Basically what the nurse said before she left. Her vitals have been strong this entire time. Her bloodwork came back great. Her MRI came back with some swelling in her brain, but with the head trauma that’s to be expected.” Rip and Lloyd grumbled. “They have her on meds to help keep the swelling down. Her X-rays showed a few broken ribs, but thankfully nothing was punctured. She’s just gotta wake up.”

It was somber in the room for a few minutes. Lloyd sat next to Ryan. Rip still stood guard at her bedside holding onto her hand. Colby left to get them coffee and give them time to stand vigil.

Stella’s breathing picked up. Her legs started to rutch around like she was uncomfortable. Her hand squeezed Rip’s. Rip watched her intently. A scratchy mumble of, “it’s still better than meth,” uttered from Stella who kept her eyes closed.

Ryan jumped out of his skin and the chair. Lloyd quickly made it to the door, calling for a nurse or a doctor. Anybody.

Once Kayce was sure Tate was sound asleep he quietly told Monica he was going to go check on Stella. She wanted to object, but understood. They hadn’t heard anything from the three who went to visit her in a while.

“Just make sure to come back in case he wakes up,” she spoke softly to Kayce. He agreed and made his way downstairs.

John called out from his office. “Where are you going?”

“To check on Stella.”

“Kayce?” His father called his attention.

Kayce poked his head in through the door finally. His dad looked focused out the window, but worried nonetheless. Kayce supposed there were a lot of things he had to be worried about right now. “Yeah, dad?”

“I’m coming with you.”

John left no room for discussion. He stood, striding past his son. Kayce fell in line behind his dad. He wasn’t sure how to take this kind of response from him about Stella. In the past John would have asked for a report back on her. This time however, he was coming along. John knew it his fault she was in this mess to begin with.

Coming out of Stella’s room was a group of nurses. Kayce thought the worst. He stood outside the door, scared to enter. His heart dropped into the floor. Terrified of what he would find. John waited with him, uncharacteristically patient. The doctor walked out, almost running into them.

“Oh sorry! You picked the perfect time to visit, gentlemen. Go on in.” The doctor whisked off down the hallway.

Going in, Kayce could see Rip smiling. His shoulders relaxed seeing his gruff lead wrangler in a good mood. The two made eye contact and Rip motioned at Kayce and John to the others. When they rounded the corner, Kayce’s eyes casted to Stella first. There she was, sitting propped upright. Not as swollen, but still bruised. The gouge over her right eye most likely held together with liquid stitches was red and angry.

Her brown eyes peeked at him. She smiled shyly. Almost embarrassed to be seen so vulnerable. “Hey, cowboy. John.”

Kayce rushed past everyone to get to her. He leaned down and softly hugged her neck. Placing a hand on the back of her head, he kissed her on the top of her head and breathed deeply. “Jesus. Don’t you ever do that to me again, you hear me?”

“I thought I saw a few more greys on you.”

John, Rip, Lloyd, Colby and Ryan decided now was the time to give them a minute and backed out of the room to the hallway.

“I brought you somethin’.” Kayce said. He reached into his jacket pocket.

“Oh?” Stella questioned, trying her damndest to not raise her eyebrows.

Kayce pulled his hand out, surprising her with her spare pair of glasses.

“Oh my god you’re an angel! I’m tired of squintin’ at shit.” Slowly she placed her hand out to recieve them. Once she had them on and could see him clearly, she cleared her throat. The scratchiness hadn’t left yet. “You found Tate, right?”

“Yes we did. Your brother and I made sure we made a point to every single one of them.”

Emotion bubbled up in her throat. “Kayce, I tried to stop them. I really did.”

“We know Stella. Tate told us. I couldn’t be more thankful for you. What you tried to do for him.”

“I’m so glad you found him. I didn’t know he would see them attack me and come back. He must get that from someone else I know.” She paused to look at Kayce. “When he came back for me instead of running to the house like I told him… I lost all sense of rational thought.”

“I know, baby. I know.” He looked her over, deciding to take the seat next to her. He worried about calling her that. He didn’t want her to panic all over again like a few weeks ago. “I just wish it didn’t happen this way.”

Stella gingerly touched her fingertips to the cut that started above her right eyebrow and stopped on the apple of her cheek. “Yeah me too. It probably looks gnarly, doesn’t it?”

When she didn’t panic when he called her baby, he continued. “It’s beautiful. Just like you.” They didn’t know the men had come back into the room.

Her mouth dropped open. “These meds they’ve got me on must be hittin’ me real good.” She chuckled. She went quiet. Kayce thought she might have fallen asleep, but there was a look of contemplation on her face.

“What is it Stella? Is something wrong? Do I need to get the doctor?” Kayce began standing.

“No, no, no.” Stella reached out for his hand. “I was just thinking, and it’s a horrible time to ask, but if I don’t now, I never will.” Kayce waited for her to continue and gently rubbed his thumb along the back of her hand that didn’t have the IV port. “Did you really mean what you said the other night in the lodge?”

“There were a lot of things said that night, sugar.”

Stella had hoped she wouldn’t have to say it out loud. She sighed. “You said you loved me.” She adjusted her glasses, pulling her bottom lip in briefly. “Did you really mean that?”

Around the corner, the five men were about to shit a brick house. They all looked between each other with their mouths hanging wide open. This was not where they thought this conversation was headed. It wasn’t what they thought they were going to be walking in on.

Kayce thought about it. She hadn’t mentioned anything since, so he thought it was something she didn’t want to talk about just yet.

“By god Stella, yes. I meant every damn word.” He watched her as she mulled everything over. “You okay with that?”

“Yeah, I’m okay. It’s just been a lot.” She played with a corner of her blanket. “So when do you gotta go back? I don’t wanna keep you from your family.”

“Tate finally caught sleep. He should be solid for a little while. I do have to go back eventually.”

“But I’ll be here with you all night, Stellee.” Ryan announced as the men walked back around the corner.

“When they let me outta here, where am I going?”

“I’d like it if you would stay at the ranch for a little while longer.” Rip mentioned. “Just in case something isn’t feeling right, someone is around.”

“Can I stay somewhere other than the bunkhouse?” She inquired. She looked to her brother. “Please? For my own sanity?”

John finally spoke up. “Yes, you may. You have the pick of wherever you want. You say the word and I’ll get you a spot.”

Stella and Kayce shared a look of bewilderment. She smiled gently at John. “Thank you, sir.” She tried to straighten her face out to avoid stretching her skin. She grimaced with the movement of her skin. “I mean, John.” The bruises and the gash across her face were really killing her vibe for smiling. Even if it was for the simple fact that she was alive. She let out a sharp yawn.

John glanced at Stella and Kayce, then the rest of the men. “I think that’s our sign to head out for the night. She needs to rest. Ryan, you keep us updated, alright?” Ryan confirmed with a nod.

“Can I have a minute with Stella before we leave?” Kayce asked.

“Of course, Kace.” Ryan ushered everyone out of the room.

Kayce stood, still holding Stella’s hand. She watched him contentedly while he contemplated. He rubbed her knuckles. “Can I kiss you? I’ve never really asked.”

A small smile splayed across her face as far as she could without pain. It was probably the wrong time for this joke, but she couldn’t resist herself. “I dunno. Can you?”

“Oh you ass.” Kayce started to pull his hand away.

Stella gripped his fingers with a giggle. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Yes, please kiss me.”

He leaned down gently to her. He was almost afraid to hurt her.

“I won’t break, Kayce.” She whispered. Their eyes met finally in a collision of brown on brown.

He leaned forward and softly pressed his lips to hers. Time seemed to stand still. He had been so worried she was gone, he hadn’t been able to focus on anything else other than getting his son back and getting payback to the sons of bitches who did this to her. He pressed slightly harder, trying to melt into her. He hadn’t realized he wanted this for a long time until the thought of her being gone crossed his mind. Even long before Monica came along. Her partially dry lips, no thanks to the dry hospital air, opened with a gasp.

He backed up slightly thinking he’d hurt her. “I’m so sorry.”

“No, come back here. Don’t apologize. It’s just hard to breathe with a stuffy swollen nose and broken ribs.” She greedily reached for him. When his lips touched hers again, her eyes closed and she leaned into him. He trailed after her, but pulled away and straightened his back.

“I should go. When we get you to the ranch, you wanna stay in the lodge with me?”

“I think I’d like that.” She would appreciate the solitude, but would still be close to her brother, her horse.

“Wait, Abigail. Is she okay? Did you guys find her?”

“Funny enough she ran up to us first panicking, before we found you. We thought it was because everyone was running around.” He gazed down at her with a sad smile. If only he would have known before he found Stella. The memory tried to come back, but he blocked it. “So yes, she’s okay. A little spooky, but she’s okay. I’ve had Jimmy lookin’ after her. When he wasn’t, Rip was.”

Stella sat back with a sigh of relief. “Oh thank god.” She didn’t know what she’d do if something ever happened to that horse. “You go. Take care of your boy. I’ll be safe with Ryan here.”

Kayce squeezed her hand and went out to the hall to trade places with Ryan. The two shared a look, knowing that this would be a conversation had at a later date.

The three extra men that visited began to walk back out to their vehicles. John stopped, causing Kayce to pause. John faced Ryan. “Ryan!” The man in question stopped his journey through the door. “This is on me.”

Ryan’s face contorted into confusion. “What do you mean, sir?”

John looked down. “I mean your sister almost gave her life to protect my family. She earned that brand fully. This trip is on me.” John swiveled on his heel, and caught up with the other men, leaving Ryan standing there about to cry if he wasn’t careful.