#trying to make shit sound cryptic and use a lot of words without really giving as straight of an answer

[wolfwarrior142]

This is one of those posts where I gotta remind myself that the guys in charge of the show love to spin bullshit up in the panels that doesn't end up actually coming to fruition in the season related to the panel or the show in general. Cuz this just feels like them being cryptic and dramatic and difficult more than anything. Remember them saying that Rayla was gonna be so twisted up and conflicted about the coins in s5 and trying to balance getting her parents out with the main issue? Or something like that? Yeah. We all saw how that went.

This isn't against you, op. This is against the creators of the show hinting like theyre willing to throw away years of character building just because. Or just to be dramatic. Feel like Devon would be a much better person to ask this stuff to cuz she seems like she actually has important stuff to say about the show rather than too much cryptic filler. Also cuz she's the lead writer and actually, ya know, writes for the show. And seems to feed into fans' adoration of rayllum, both in interactions with the fans and how she writes short stories/the show. Wish she could have been there for the panel.

Its dumb that I made this big of a reaction to a small, harmless post but I'm just...miffed at the creators today. It would be different if they hadn't done So Much character building for these two- on their own, with/off of each other, and together (as friends through the whole show and an actual couple in s3, and somewhere between that in s5). Having all that NOT lead to them getting together again (and staying together) is just mind boggling cuz it would make all that building have less weight imo. Not everyone probably sees it that way, and I wish I certainly didn't, but I sure as shit do cuz tf is that cryptic bullshit they're spewing.

Okay I'm done I just needed to rant.

Oh, oh! I got to ask my question during the panel's Q&A. I asked how writing Rayllum as romantic affected the plot, and the creators explained how the characters become separate from them. Rayllum isn't 'destined' to be together-they might not necessarily be/end up the series in love, but they love each other, they're friends, there's a deep connection there.

[xpeachesncream]

bands | sixteen

[ series masterlist ]

summary: jeon jungkook has it all: the looks, the fame, the money, the women. being considered the sexiest man in the industry, he finds no complaints about the way his life is going nor does he find any reason to apologize for the way he approaches it. he is a force to be reckoned with - until he meets you.

pairing: stripper!reader x idol!jjk

genre: (18+) strip club/nightlife au, post grad au | fluff, angst, smut

words: 5.0k

warnings: cussing, mature language/implied sexual content, angst, anxiety, alcohol consumption, slight intoxication, physical abuse, slight verbal abuse, belittling, mentions of cuts/wounds but nothing too graphic, mentions of coke

tags: @brightcolorsoffendme @min-nicoleee @eggbutnotyolk @ra-mun-e @miinoongi @jimidol @ppeachyttae @thebeebi @bluesharksandfish @kooafraid @liriaus @thisartemisnevermisses @ggukkieland @preciouschimine @sunniejinnie @cypheruby @cyb3rbab3 @masterlists101 @awhnamjoon @redhedhoseok @wooya1224 @taeismydeath​ @jikookiekosmos​ @un2-verse​ @aynsx​ @wearenot7withu​ @knjeuphoria​ @bringitseijoh​ (closed!)

Jungkook laid on the dorm couch, legs sprawled out as he wore his hood and covered his face as much as possible. He shut his eyes, trying to make sense of the cryptic texts you had sent him.

"We shouldn't do this anymore."

"I can't do this, Jungkook."

"You don't deserve this."

"I'm only trouble."

"We aren't going to work."

He repeatedly called you, asking for an explanation, a way to help make things better because none of this should have been the reason for you to want to call it 'quits' like that. He asked for you to talk to him. He'd call and after two rings, it'd bring him straight to voicemail. It never failed. Indeed, there was much more to the text but he only fixated on a few lines, and those few lines seem to be circling his head time and time again with no sign of leaving him alone.

"I think I'm falling in too deep and I need to stop this while I can. You hear them, you hear the shit they say. I would never let them ruin you, I don't want them to. You deserve better. Maybe it's true that I don't fit into this."

It frustrates him, every single time. Where the hell did he go wrong? Why was there a sudden change? Something was off, and god forbid if his assumptions were right. But, everything was leading right back to it. The way you called in sick, the way you shut everyone out. The way you texted him these things, wouldn't pick up his calls just to tell him you're busy or whatever the hell it was. It didn't sound like you. It didn't seem like you at all.

All things led right back to the club. To Bigs. Where you felt high and mighty. Wanted. Like no one could ever hurt you the way they did outside of the club because they worshipped you in there. They knelt down to you. The way you were so fucking tough there. He knew this is where you would fall back if things got rough. He couldn't help but think that you had been forced into it though, because he knew you didn't give a shit about that anymore. Ah well, forced or not, it just felt so off. Unusual.

"Hey." Namjoon sits on the floor near Jungkook's head. "You good?" He asks even though he's fully aware he's not. Joon hates those people who ask if something's wrong when clearly, something is wrong — however, he wasn't really sure how else to open up this conversation without coming off too pushy or forward. Too insensitive, even.

"Nope."

"What's going on?" Jungkook sighs as he tries to lower his hood even more, although there's no more of his hood to lower. He keeps his hand on his face, trying his hardest to keep himself together.

"I don't know." Now, going back to earlier — everyone can tell Jungkook isn't happy. They've tried to butter him up and make him feel better even though they knew you were the only person who could truly make him happy again. They've tried to talk to him in one way or another, but they never forced him if he didn't want to. The only person that really hasn't said much was Jimin, and that also pisses him off because if he had anything to do with this, he will surely fuck him up for ruining his happiness.

"You hear from Y/N? She still sick? Does she need anything?"

"She's not sick."

"Hm?" Joon slightly turns back, confused.

"Something else is wrong."

"Like what?"

"She's not picking up my calls. Not answering my texts the way she normally does. When she does, it's super blunt or one worded."

"Maybe she's really not feeling well, or just caught up with things—"

"No, hyung. I know her, she always has her priorities straight. Even if she was sick, she wouldn't do this. She wouldn't go as far as to shutting her own brother out."

"Idol life too overwhelming? I get it." Jimin jokes as he walks into the kitchen, making Jungkook shoot his head up to glare at him.

"The fuck, can you not? I don't see why you feel the need to joke around right now."

"Jeez, sorry. I just thought I'd lighten up the mood somehow."

"Come on, dude." Namjoon looks at him with disappointment, Jimin only returning the gesture by rolling his eyes and walking away. "How can I help you?" Joon asks, returning his attention back to Jungkook.

"Maybe I was being selfish bringing her into all of this. These people— they're fucking mean, and she's already had her fair share of dealing with mean people. How am I supposed to protect her all while not feeling selfish about it?"

"You're not selfish, who told you that?"

"Jimin." That's like strike.. whatever to Namjoon at this point. Why the hell was Jimin being so fucking weird?

"Look, I know it's not easy in this industry. But I think what you can do is prove to her that you won't hurt her, especially with everyone around her doing nothing but hurting her. You need to show her that you're different from the rest of them, that she can fully trust you. If I were in her shoes, to be honest, it would be scary for me. You got a whole lot of shit going on in your life. You're expected to provide a lot, and on top of that, you haven't had the best reputation with women."

"Yeah, I hear you."

"Then, nothing else matters. You keep fighting for her if she really matters to you. Does she?"

"Of course she does, I mean, can't you tell? I've never been this way over someone." Joon nods.

"You sure as fuck haven't. It still catches me and the guys by surprise. But, I'm happy to see someone helping you become a better person. She's been nothing but genuinely sweet, and I know she already does a hell of a job taking care of you."

"She's— I don't know. She's become so important to me."

"I know she has, and I'm happy to hear that. I really am." Joon sighs. "So tell me, what can I do? I hate seeing you like this."

"Well, I'm sure as hell not allowed at the club. Bigs will do anything to get back at me for what I did to him. He won't hesitate."

"I won't let him. We won't. You really think she went back?" Jungkook nods.

"Positive. Something doesn't feel right. It feels weird. And I feel like she was egged into this. I don't like it one bit."

"Want me to go check out the club tonight?"

"Yeah, please?" Jungkook says. "But don't be too obvious. Bring Jin hyung or someone who could use a lap dance or two."

"Sooo Jin hyung?" They chuckle.

"Yeah, exactly."

"And if she's there?"

"Then I'm going straight to her tomorrow night. I just need to make sure I do this right because I don't want her or Kai to get hurt. I'll stay out there if I have to just to make sure she doesn't go back. What else do I have to do—" Jungkook pauses to stop himself because this clearly wasn't you. He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. "Who the fuck made her do this?"

"Bigs, who else?"

"No, she wouldn't listen to just Bigs. He's definitely working with someone and using shit against her."

"Okay, let's just not assume the worst. I'll head there tonight and drag Jin hyung with me."

"Thanks hyung, I really appreciate it."

"No problem." Joon gently massages his shoulder before getting up from his spot to make his way back to his room.

All Jungkook can think about doing is sleeping more right now. He'll send the occasional text to check on Kai and see how he was doing, but they both worried too much about you and Jungkook would hate to tell him that you ended up going back to the club. He didn't think he would tell him, he didn't think he'd have to because he was gonna make sure to get you out of there before shit hit the roof again. If it hasn't already, and he's hoping it hasn't.

And so when Namjoon and Jin hyung [obviously in need of that lap dance or two] head out to the club, Jungkook stays in his dorm room, suddenly feeling the adrenaline rushing through his body even though he can't do shit besides sit here and wait. He goes through the random pictures he's taken of you - the cute, candid photos he had of you, the cute candid photo of you as his lock screen. He deletes all the texts in his inbox even though he knows it might have been a little late. It honestly hasn't mattered to him in such a long time, but he just never got around to wiping his inbox clean since he was so caught up with you - his baby.

"Is this going to turn into some kind of action movie? We bust through the doors, take down all the guards and steal Y/N?"

"No, hyung. Jesus. Do you forget you're an idol? That's probably the very last thing we should do."

"So, what do we do?"

"We just walk in there like we normally do?"

"Boring."

"Plus, we can't have Bigs onto us like that. We have to act like we don't know anything."

"Do you really think he's using something against her?"

"I don't know. I have to be honest though, I think Jimin's involved."

"W-what?" Jin says, furrowing his brows. "No, he can't be."

"Trust me. He always acts so weird around her, and he's probably the one person who hasn't taken this as seriously. He hasn't said anything to Jungkook."

"But why though?"

"I don't know, beats me. I just don't think he respects her. Or, likes her. Whatever it is."

"She hasn't done anything to him though."

"That makes it worse, doesn't it?"

"How could you be so sure?"

"Look hyung, I'm not. I just think he's involved. My gut says so. We'll find out whether I'm right or not, right?"

"I hope you aren't. That'll really mess Kookie up."

"Well. I love him, but he'll have to learn the hard way for butting into someone else's business like that. No matter what the reason is." Namjoon parks the car and fixes his rolled up sleeves before adjusting the Rolex on his wrist. He looks at Jin once more, nodding in approval once they both feel like they've fixed themselves enough to look presentable, not questionable.

Meanwhile, you had just finished up your time on stage so you headed to the back to take a break. Bigs hadn't given you the option to secure private bookings knowing damn well there would be opportunity for Jungkook and some of his boys to slip through and try to work their magic in private. As much as possible, you were just trying to protect Jungkook, even though you knew he wouldn't back down without a fight. You knew Bigs wasn't all that tough, but right now, he seemed to hold a lot of power with Jimin being on his team. And you knew damn well it was Jimin all along. Did you have concrete evidence? No. But your gut feeling might as well be enough with the way he talks to you. Why else would Bigs all of a sudden feel all mighty? Bigs had threatened Jungkook and your brother enough to keep your mouth shut. Enough to keep your attitude level at a 0.

The scene played in your head over and over again—

"I gave you a better life, you ungrateful piece of shit. You do as I say and your little Jungkook and your little Kai won't get hurt. You think I'm scared of them, sweetie? You think I'm scared of you? Your stepfather don't give a damn about you two. I can easily send my men down to do their magic, especially after how Jungkook treated me. Is that how he repays me after all the special treatment I've given him?" Mr. Bigs hunched over you. "You two wanna play me like a fool, I'll show you two what it's like to be played like a fool." He pulled on your hair before aggressively releasing and spitting to the side.

There was no way they would get dragged into this. Not anymore. They didn't deserve to be included in this no matter what it was.

Boy, did you miss Jungkook. Everything about him. It took everything in you not to come running back. It took everything in you not to answer those calls or texts like you normally would.

You chose him, every single time. You wish he knew that. Him and Kai.

You sighed, sipping on the flask you snuck in. The alcohol relieving you of any pain, helping you feel numb as the night goes on. You didn't want to feel tonight, you just didn't. Why would you, when everything had just been hurting you lately?

You had just finished dancing out on the main stage, throwing your ass back to some Megan and Cardi. A few other dancers were gathered at a vanity, sneakily sniffing lines of coke while Bigs and his men were busy paroling the main stage.

"You want some of this, sis? In celebration of you coming back?" One of the other dancers smirks at you. You simply shake your head no and return to the flask in your hand.

"I'm good, thank you."

"Alright, well it's here if you want it. Just let me know, babe." Her and the other dancers go back to their business on the vanity. However, another dancer continues to eye you, sympathy filling her expression as she approaches you while you sip on your flask once more. You were starting to feel pretty tipsy again, hoping you could just hide out in the back 'till the very end of your shift.

"Y/N." She says, her hand gently on your arm. "You okay?"

"I'm good." You purse your lips together to prevent yourself from tearing up. Those words were triggering for you because you were not okay, whatsoever.

"Why did you come back, babe?" She genuinely asks, worried about you. "Did Bigs do something?"

"No." You lied. "Things just didn't work out elsewhere I guess, and I need money."

"Didn't work out? I saw the way Jungkook handled Bigs that night." If anything, she was probably the one dancer who paid attention to the environment around her. Everyone else was oblivious to the shit that's been happening and that's because they didn't give a fuck about anyone else. Her stage name was Trixie, but her real name was Miki. She too didn't really enjoy being here but her parents talked so much about how she was useless and couldn't make it out in the world, especially as a vlogger. She loved it. She loved being in front of the camera and talking to the world thru the lens. But her parents thought it was dumb— that she was dumb for even wanting to grow a career online like that. Besides all of it, she remained sweet, and she was always super nice to you. You wouldn't be surprised if she knew about you and Jungkook, and you honestly wouldn't have a problem with it. She never treated you wrong. She knew Bigs had a tendency to overstep and abuse the power he had with his status and his money. However, she knew he was a big coward and that he was all talk, no play — especially if it was outside of the club. He may be a big honcho here, but outside, he had no chance. And she couldn't wait until the day he'd get his for all the mess he's caused.

"Yeah well, things happen." She shakes her head.

"Y/N, you can talk to me. Look, as much as I love seeing your face, you have so much potential. You don't deserve to be stuck here. Let me help you figure this out."

"I'm okay, Miki. Thank you, though." She nods, not wanting to press you any further.

"Well, I'm here for you." She gives your arm one good squeeze before walking off.

Eventually, the rest of the dancers retreat back out onto the floor, leaving you to hide away in the back room as long as possible — which is why Namjoon can't get a glimpse of you anywhere out in the main area. Bigs is actually a little taken aback to see both him and Jin walking through the club, even after everything that has gone down. But hey, business is business— and if they weren't gonna cause any trouble, so be it. He knows though, he knows full well there's a possibility they're here for you.

"Boys! Long time no see!" He greets them, Joon and Jin giving him a toothless smile in return. "How've you been? What brings you in?"

"Mr. Bigs." Namjoon says, smoothing down his shirt. "Ah, we're good, just getting busy prepping for the tour. Wanted to take a little breather tonight."

"Well, I'm glad you guys came here to do so. Can I get you two anything to drink?" The both of them shake their heads. "Anything to help relieve that stress?"

"We're good, thanks. Just gonna sit out on the floor for a bit."

"You two let me know if there's anything I can do for you, at all." Bigs smiles at them as he begins to watch them walk away. "Make sure she's covered." Bigs slightly turns his head to speak through the headset mic, alerting his men to keep an eye out. He thinks he's said it low enough so that Jin and Namjoon don't hear, but Jin catches the movement in his peripherals, causing him to pinch Joon's bicep.

"Back room." Jin says, subtly nodding towards the backroom as he keeps his gaze out on the main stage and adjusts his tie. Namjoon looks around to see Bigs has welcomed himself to the other side of the club, speaking to a few customers, looking distracted.

"I'm gonna go see if I can talk to her."

"Talk?! You said we were just scoping her out. Don't cause any trouble, Namjoon-ah. Please."

"Oh, now you suddenly don't want this action movie to come alive?! You sure were talking a whole lot about it in the car."

"Since when do you even take me seriously?!"

"I always take you seriously, hyung!"

"How about you just sneak towards the back door and get her attention? You said we can't go all out like that!"

"There's guards there too."

"Look, I just don't want you or Y/N to get hurt. Maybe we should just lay low and figure out how we can approach this better."

"Hey, can I get you two anything?" Miki interrupts, fully aware of who they are and what they're here for.

"No, sweetie. Thank you." Jin responds, flashing his 100-watt smile.

"You looking for Y/N?"

"Depends who's asking?" Namjoon says, trying to keep his guard up.

"Look, I'm not gonna rat you out if that's what you think." She puts her hand on her hip, tray still balancing on her free hand. "She's in the backroom. But there's no way you can get to her. Bigs is watching her for whatever reason."

"Yeah, we're aware. Can you send her a message for me?"

"Sure. You have 10 seconds though or else Bigs is gonna be onto you." She points towards Bigs slowly making his way back.

"Just tell her that Jungkook is worried about her and wants to help. Or, we want to help. We just wanna know what's going on."

"I'll try, but she didn't let up when I asked earlier."

"Thanks." Joon sighs.

"Shoo, I'll find you guys around." She says, sneakily walking off towards the bar with her empty tray as Bigs starts to eye the main floor. Jin and Namjoon welcome themselves to a seat on the side of the stage, acting normal as possible by throwing bills onto the stage for the dancers. Miki tends to her customers before she's setting her tray down and pretending to take a cigarette from her bra to take a quick "break." She heads to the back to see you still sitting at your vanity, head resting against the palm of your hand.

"Babe." You turn to look at her, eyes slightly glossed over.

"Hm?"

"RM and Jin are here. They said they want to help you, and if you can tell them anything, that's all they'd want."

"Miki—"

"Girl, look. Don't let this man keep running your life like this. I don't care what he said or did, this isn't you. You need to get out of here and you need to let people in. People who genuinely care about you." You sigh.

"How is that possible when Jungkook's own bestfriend doesn't even like me? And ontop of that, Bigs even dragged my little brother and my evil ass stepfather into this. I can't let anything happen to him, he's the only thing I have."

"I get that, and I'm sure Jungkook will do whatever it takes to protect you both. Why are RM and Jin here then? Whatever Jungkook's other friend's issue is, he needs to figure it out. It's obviously his own problem, something he created himself for no reason."

"I know he's helping Bigs keep me away from Jungkook. All the hurtful shit in the media, all the shit he's been tossing in my face. Whatever, I get it. He wins. I don't belong."

"Don't say that."

"It's true, and I know even if I chose Jungkook, he'd choose his bestfriend over me. Why would he go against that? They've been together for so long. I'm a fucking nobody." Miki knows this is all the alcohol running through your veins, but at least now, she knows Bigs isn't doing this on his own [as she assumed, he's a fucking pussy for the most part - he's a pussy who got handsy with the dancers cause that's all he can do to feed his ego].

"I don't think that's true, and I don't think it's a fair assumption when he's stayed by your side, hasn't he? He hasn't given up on you." She says before walking out. Really, things were just completely scrambled in your head. Just fucked up. Your questions, your uncertainty was strong enough to pull you towards the negative - the what if's, the assumptions, the rumors, the shit-talking. After all that, the positives were dim.

Miki grabs her tray and serves the first couple of customers in dire need of their drinks before she heads over to Jin and Namjoon to spill the information she received from that conversation.

"She won't budge. It sounds like a lot of this shit talking got to her head, so she came back to make herself feel better but then Bigs ended up turning this around on her, threatening Jungkook and her brother. If I were you, I'd get Jungkook to her before she can even come back here. Make sure her brother is with him too. Bigs is all talk but being the guys that you are — I wouldn't take any chances to ruin your reputation and all that." She smacks on her gum. "And I hate to tell you this, but one of your little friends has been working with Bigs. I don't know who, but you better let that little shit know he was wrong for getting in her head like that. She deserves way better." She says with a punch of attitude before walking away.

"Jimin?" Jin mouths out to Namjoon, who only shrugs in response.

"Let's go." Namjoon tosses a couple of more bills before they head out.

"Have a good evening, boys." Bigs yells out, causing the two of them to return a tight-lipped smile.

"Are we going to tell Kookie about Jimin?"

"No? Because we don't even know ourselves. His name was never dropped, and we'll look dumb if we acted on assumptions."

"This is so fucked up." Jin sighs, looking out the window.

"You're telling me."

When they finally arrive back at the dorm, Namjoon and Jin find Jungkook pacing around in his room, tossing a rubber ball against the wall to keep himself occupied. His doe eyes dart over to them, letting the ball drop to the floor while he nervously walks closer to them.

"So?"

"I'm sorry, dude." Joon sighed. "From what it sounds like, all this mess just got to her head so she went back to the club to make herself feel better. But Bigs ended up bringing you and her brother into the situation so, I'm assuming she's distancing herself to protect you in some way?" Namjoon runs his hand through his hair. "Honestly, I really don't know, that's as much as we got."

"We didn't even talk to her or see her, some other dancer helped us out. I guess she's a friend of hers? Or maybe she just likes Y/N. She wanted to help." Jin says.

"Fuck!" Jungkook groans, slamming his hand down onto his bed. "Why couldn't she just talk to me? We could have figured this out."

"Look, I'm sure there's a lot more to it and I'm sure it's difficult for her. Promise me you'll hear her out when you see her."

"I mean, yeah I know, I will. But, how did this get to her head so easily? I really can't wrap my head around it, I—" He catches how tense Joon and Jin suddenly get. He watches them nervously looking at each other, making him cock his head to the side and furrow his brows. "Wait, what is it? You know something else, don't you?"

"I mean there's really no concrete facts behind it so we can't necessarily say it's true."

"Well?" Jungkook asks, his fists clenched so tightly his knuckles are turning white. But, before they could go any further, Jungkook's ringtone echos in the room. He quickly turns in case it's you calling, but he picks up anyway because it's someone equally as important.

"Kai?"

"C-can you come pick me up? My sister isn't picking up. I'll send you Eric's address." Jungkook worries when he hears the shakiness in his voice, his tone low to a whisper.

"Yeah, sit tight. I'll be right there." He hangs up, darting out of his room, Namjoon and Jin following after him.

"Where are you going?"

"I need to get to Kai."

"Let us come with!"

"Look, it'll be quicker if I go myself—"

"Jungkook-ah, stop. We're not gonna let you go alone." Joon and Jin make it just in time to join him in the elevator, heading straight for his car even if it's nearing 1am. Jungkook pulls up Kai's location, pressing on the gas to rush over there just in case Kai was hurt. And yes, Jungkook was going to give it to your fucking stepfather if he sees anything on Kai. He will fucking destroy him, he promises.

Jungkook, Namjoon and Jin walk into the house quietly, seeing Kai putting his finger up to his lips when he meets them near the kitchen.

"What happened?" Jungkook whispers, handing his bags over to Namjoon and Jin. Jungkook looks at the small hint of blood pooling near his nostrils and the cut near his eyebrow.

"I'll explain in the car, can you just take me to—"

"Really? Calling your sister's boyfriend and his friends over to save you? You really are a helpless little shit." Namjoon, Jin and Jungkook are all shielding each other and Kai from Eric, Jungkook's blood boiling seeing him standing there, clearly very drunk and not in the right state of mind.

"Aye, don't fucking talking to him like that." Jungkook's spits out, making Eric laugh.

"First you fall for my slut of a daughter, now you help rescue him? I thought you were so much better than that, Jungkook. You aren't the person people portrayed you to be. Shittiest idol I know. All of you."

"You don't know me." Eric snorts.

"You guys do know I help sponsor your shit right? I play a big role for you, don't come into my house acting like—" He slurs his words.

"Yeah, well fuck the contract." Namjoon's jaw clenches. "Better yet, don't fucking worry about it, I'll make sure to take care of it for you."

"You need me." Eric says, almost at a growl.  "You need me and Bigs—"

"Since when?" Namjoon responds in a mocking manner as he begins to usher Jin, Jungkook and Kai towards the front door. "If you wanna send your people over, you can let them know I'm free tomorrow in the late afternoon. I'll be more than happy to tell 'em what kind of sick person you are."

"You can't just take him—" Eric tries to flip the script, obviously unaware that Kai has already turned 18. He grips onto Kai's arm and tries to pull him back, except he's intoxicated, so Jungkook easily pushes him off. He watches as Eric hits a bar stool, stumbling over himself before he drunkily falls on his ass.

"You're such a sad excuse of a stepfather, you aren't even aware he's 18 already. He doesn't need you." Jungkook scoffs. "I'm gonna send people for the rest of Kai's shit tomorrow. And let's get this straight - we never needed you or Bigs. You both aren't shit without us and yout fucking empire thrives because of us. And if you do anything to Y/N, if you even think about working with Bigs on doing anything to her, I fucking promise you I will bury you alive. I won't stop until you have nothing left. Don't underestimate me."

everybody's angry and they're coming for me, but i can't give them energy that i won't receive; so i brush 'em off, i got a lot on my sleeve, like i'm moving backwards, but it's all on repeat; this place is getting crowded, i got no room to breathe

track twelve: hundred - khalid

[starlightsearches]

can we perhaps get a lil fic where the reader used to be a first order medic who crushed on Hux and used to treat Hux’s injuries when he was thrown around, but has now defected to the resistance. Hux survives TROS with injuries from, well, everything that happened, and is rescued by the resistance and taken to the reader (now the resistance medic) to be cared for. Cue them remembering eachother, and perhaps lots of touch starved hux who isn’t used to being looked after, and the two finally admit their feelings for eachother?? Sorry if this is so long and confusing, you can change or shorten any bits you don’t like or understand 😅💕

Hello friend! Thanks for the request. I’m sorry it took me a thousand years to write it; I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I hope you like it!!

Requests are open ✨

Armitage Hux x Resistance Medic! Reader (GN)

Warnings: Language, an injury, angst and some medical care! (and non-canon compliance if anyone cares about that)

It’s the middle of the night cycle when Poe’s voice crackles through the speaker on your comm link, calling for you. Lurching from your doze, you search for it with both hands, brushing through the piles of records and empty caff cups before you spot the little cylinder.

“I’m here,” you hold the comm close to your mouth, using your other hand to gather up needed supplies, shoving them in your medkit haphazardly. Poe never commed you before a landing—not unless things were bad. You push the panic away, steeling yourself for the worst case scenario. It wouldn’t be the first time you had held a friend’s life in your hands, but it never got easier; you just got stronger. You could be stronger now. “What do you need?”

“Don’t worry, it’s nothing too bad this time,” he clarifies, and you let out a shaky breath, offering your thanks to the universe, “we picked up a, uh, new recruit. He’s pretty banged up, having some trouble walking. I know you can get him feeling better; can you meet us at the landing pad?”

“Yeah, I’ll be there,” you shove the comm in your pocket, brushing a hand over your hair. There’s a soft hint of disquiet resting on your shoulders, a crawling over your skin. Poe wasn’t usually this cryptic. Something big must have happened.

You decide to leave your medkit—since the mystery patient’s injuries don’t sound too serious — walking swiftly through the sleeping base. Your footsteps echo quietly against the stone walls until the sound is swallowed by the night melody of Ajan Kloss. The warm humidity kisses your cheeks when you step out into the open, a gentle breeze pushing it away before it can linger.

The landing pad is dormant, rows and rows of sleeping x-wings keeping you company as you watch for any sign of the Falcon, and soon enough you spot it, tracing its path through the night sky.

You spy Poe's boots at the mouth of the hatch as soon as it opens—Rey must have been piloting, which meant Finn would be in the cockpit with her. Strange. Poe doesn’t usually give up control of the pilot’s seat so easily. A shiver travels up your spine despite the warm night air.

"Hey, sweetheart, can you give us a hand?" he calls out to you, and you're about to tear into him for being so fucking cryptic, stomping up the loading dock. That's when you notice the shiny pair of boots near Poe's, blacker than the night around you.

You can't move anymore, frozen mid-step half-way up the ramp, heartbeat pounding like a warning siren as your eyes trace up the boots, the battered, black uniform and you don’t need to see his face to know that you're not dreaming this time. It’s him.

You keep your eyes on Poe—only on Poe—and your distress must show in your features because the look he gives you in return is full of concern.

"Everything alright, sweetheart?"

You glare at him. "What the hell is this?"

It has to be a joke. Poe is trying to be funny, calling him a recruit instead of a prisoner—but the general isn't handcuffed. He has an arm slung over Poe's shoulder, leaning heavily against the pilot. There’s a tear in his pant leg, white skin stained red with dripping blood, the wound sore and angry. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice the purpling bruises along his cheeks. It’s sad how familiar he seems when he’s broken, more recognizable to you now than he ever was in any holovid.

“See, Hugs, I told you,” Poe clears his throat, voice light with humor but he watches you carefully, a warning in his eyes. You can see enough of the general to know he’s not looking at you, his gaze fixed on some point in the distance, his jaw set.

You cross your arms over your chest, letting your expression settle into a scowl. “Told him what?”

“That you hadn’t forgotten him.”

Damn him. He had asked about you? Your heart softens in spite of yourself, and you turn automatically to Hux, the last shreds of your anger falling from your chest. He still won’t meet your eyes, shoulders slumped, his breathing a little labored and you’re sure it’s not just from the pain.

How many times had you been with him, just like this? Hidden together in forgotten corridors or tucked away in his quarters, the threat of his father looming over you while bandaging wounds and feeling for breaks and ignoring the way his chest heaved underneath your fingers. There was no word for that kind of despair, seeing someone you loved so quietly and so desperately wrecked so completely. It snakes under your skin again, finding it’s old favorite cracks left unhealed; if you’re not careful, it will swallow you whole.

There’s only one thing to do in a situation like this: fix what you can.

You shift your weight from foot to foot before heaving a sigh, “fine, let’s go.”

“Yes! You’re the best; I owe you one, sweetheart, really—” he’s already moving out of the general’s grip, waiting for you to take his place and you look at him in alarm, stepping back.

“Wait,” your adrenaline spikes, and you have to force yourself to take a breath, “you’re not coming with us?“

He shakes his head, “Rey, Finn and I have some, uh, unfinished business. We only stopped by to drop him off.”

Well shit—you take a few steadying breaths, hoping your anxiety doesn’t show too plainly on your face. You hadn’t thought you’d be alone with him so soon. You don’t want to think about why that makes a difference to you.

“Oh, okay.” You nod, force an unconvincing smile to save face. Poe wouldn’t leave if it wasn’t important. He furrows his brow—not yet convinced.

“You’re gonna be alright?”

“Yeah . . . yeah. I’ll—we’ll—be fine.” Your smile tightens at the corners but still doesn’t reach your eyes, and he squeezes your shoulder reassuringly before walking past you to the cock pit.

And now you’re left alone.

“Let’s go,” you slide into place under his arm where he’s propped himself up against the wall, gripping him tightly around his waist, fingers holding him steady at the ribs.

He flinches, pulling away slightly, and you loosen your grip.

“Did I hurt you?”

He shakes his head, eyes examining his reflection in his boots, and you place your hand with a little more care, hoping he can’t feel the way your heartbeat echoes through your body.

It’s been too long since you’ve last touched him; it still makes your heart race.

The trip back to the medbay is slow and arduous. It’s not just the gash in his leg that’s impairing his movement—his ankle is very clearly broken, based on the way he winces whenever it makes even the slightest contact with the ground.

He’s certainly not heavy, by any means, but supporting his weight gets more difficult with each step, and you’d rather not see him sustain any more injuries if your grip on him doesn’t hold.

“We can rest here for a moment.” You stop near a pile of rocks by the entrance to the base, lowering him down into a sitting position before finally taking the chance to catch your breath.

It's a dead night, a still one. Any breeze you'd felt earlier had faded long ago, and the air sits heavy on your skin and heavier in your lungs.

The general doesn't seem to mind, taking long deep breaths. If it weren't for his furrowed brow, you might believe he was asleep.

“How did you know I’d be here,” you whisper, and when he looks at you, there's hurt in his eyes.

“The Order always keeps track of their defectors—especially when they run away to join the Resistance.” His tone is bitter and biting, and it hurts you more than you like.

“I didn’t run away to join the Resistance," you respond, trying to tamp down a sneer, angry at yourself. For letting him get to you so easily, for caring so much about what he thinks.

For missing him every day since the last.

Still, it was true, what you said. When you left, you only wanted to get away from the Order—it didn’t matter where.

The Resistance was the only place you were welcomed.

You had wanted it to feel like home, and parts of it did—eating late dinners with Poe in his quarters, watching over your patients, celebrating with the rest of them after every success, the same belief that they had for the cause beginning to burn in your chest.

But something was missing, in every one of those moments. And now that he's here, you wonder if the space you'd left empty for him is too large to be filled.

"Did you—" he shifts, groans, and your veins flood with anticipation, hanging on to some foolish idea of what he might say next, "did you ever . . . think of me?"

He looks at you with half-lidded eyes, surprisingly earnest; the pain must have gone to his head.

"We should get you to the medbay," you move again, no longer comfortable with staying still, "I'll go find you something to lean on while you walk, I'll be right back—"

His fingers wrap firmly around your wrist, pulling you back with surprising determination.

"I thought of you," he says, and you're looking in his eyes, so dark they're almost black in the low light, "every cycle since the last, and every cycle before that."

Your breathing grows shallow as he fits his hand against your waist, without pulling you closer or pushing you away.

"If you want me to leave, after . . . when it's all over, I'll do it. But I—"

He jumps when you press your lips to his, shaking like he's scared, but he leans into you as best he can.

"Neither of us are leaving again," you demand, and you think you might feel the ghost of a smile against your jaw, feel the slight grip of his fingers at your waist, "not if I can help it."

Hux Tag List: @catboykenobii, @thembohux, @missmadwoman, @evarinaandlat, @sitherin-mxschief, @imafatassmess, @toasterking, @rosevon7975, @pradahux, @armitages-galaxy, @dark-lord-of-the-simps, @daughterofaries, @mad-girl-without-a-box, @aramanna, @theold-ultraviolence, @mrs-ghuleh, @lemongingerart, @isthisheaven5, @trash-queen-af, @generalthirst, @tobealostwanderer, @huxxoxo, @theoriginalannoyingbird

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[thefanficmonster]

I may or may not have just sent the 3 word challenge in my real account instead of anon... I'm sorry. Please don't answer there. :)

When you post, post answering here please.

Again, much love,

📚🌻

Don't worry dear! Your identity shall remain a secret 🥰 Here's yet another fic with my Resident Evil OC: Gwen Winters (she’s an adult guys, don’t worry. However this is still an Older Man/Younger Woman relationship)

The words dear  📚🌻 Anon gave me in their previous ask were: Unruly, endurable and system. Please enjoy!

What happens in the gym....

Pairing: Chris Redfield x Female OC

Warnings: Swearing, Spoiler Free 😊

Genre: Angsty Romance

“Sure, throw me in the fire like you always do, Leon!“ Chris snaps, clenching his fists tightly as he glares at his best friend while the two stand in the dimly lit gym.

“Chris, you’re a BSAA captain, for the love of God! You should know better than to complain about something as little as this!“ Leon, while significantly calmer tone and demeanor-wise, is glaring daggers of his own.

“Why me, damn it?! And why her?!“ Chris is not done with his attempts to get out of the situation Leon’s trying to land him in and his partner’s honestly done with it.

“And why not?! You see the same potential I see, why would it be so hard to train her? She’s a quick learner, she’s disciplined when she wants to be and she’s already skilled to a certain degree. You’ve made soldiers out of total wimps before, why is she such a hassle to you?!“

“Because she’s disciplined when she wants to be and I guarantee she won’t want to when she’s around me. She’s unruly, selfish, arrogant and a Chris-phobe. I’m telling you, she hates me!“

It’s about time Leon’s had enough of this conversation. To be honest, he was done with it as soon as it started but he stayed, thinking he’d be able to change Chris’ mind but seeing as how this is a hopeless case, he’s just been wasting his time. “Does she? Or are you projecting your hate for her onto her?” Slinging his duffel bag containing his training gear over his shoulder, Leon finally makes that realization that these are ten minutes of his life he’ll never get back and storms out of the gym without another word.

Chris doesn’t attempt to stop him, in fact, he’s relieved he left. He sighs, silently hating himself for all the shit he said and how he meant none of it. It was all hard bullshit and he doesn’t know whether to be thankful or disappointed that Leon didn’t realize. Either way, he’s been cleared of possible suspicion, even if training the newest BSAA rookie still remains as his task.

Gwen Winters, she’s such a fucking handful. One cannot tell if it’s because she’s angry with the world, angry with herself or just straight up picked up on the habits of the family that took her in when she was rescued from Raccoon City where she was held as an experiment hamster. A chemistry project basically. Ethan and Mia were recovering from the events back in Louisiana at the time, still probably are, that is not some shit you get over, so they thought having another person in the house would help them. And help Gwen did. See, Gwen isn’t a handful with everyone. In fact, she’s a real sweetheart and Chris knows it too, despite his bogus claims. He knows she’s got a heart and soul of gold and is built with the will of a BSAA soldier already. All she needs is a bit better fighting skills and she’s good to go. 

He sees how she acts with everyone around him. She’s been quick to make friends with Jill and his sister Claire and she’s even got Leon’s liking and trust which is hella hard to get, especially after all the shit with Ada. She’s overall a super sweet and lovely girl, even with him from time to time. He’s seen her welcoming, friendly smiles whenever he stops by the Winters’ home. He’s heard her laugh at the jokes he rarely cracks.

Then why does she act like she hates him so often? And why does he claim he hates her?

Chris is snapped back to reality by the sound of rough impact. It’s a very distinct noise, one he places immediately: the sound of fists hitting a punching bag. It’s the middle of the night, almost midnight actually, and knowing how lazy the soldiers on his team are, he can only assume it’s either his sister or Jill, given that Leon just left. However, they’ve had people sneak in to train for free before, so it’d be for the best if he went to check who was releasing some pent up energy on the poor punching bag. Judging by the intensity of the punches being thrown, sounds like the person might be angry as well.

And they have every right to be. Because they are Gwen.

Chris’ face goes a bit red at the sight of the infuriated rookie giving the punching bag her all, punishing it the way she’d want to do to her superior she just heard call her all the names she hates being referred by.

“Winters I-“

“Unruly?“ Punch “Selfish?” Punch “Arrogant?” Punch

She stills herself, sighing and wiping the droplets of sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand, “You say all that and expect me not to be a Chris-phobe?” She lets out a bitter laugh, rolling her shoulders before continuing her wrath over the piece of equipment she’s threatening to destroy. She hasn’t spared him a single look yet, something he’s rather grateful for because the last thing he wants to see is whatever her gaze is hiding right now. “I’ll talk to Leon.” She says, her voice leveled and breathy, far from the pissed off tone she was just using. This calmness is a lot scarier though. “I’ll tell him I don’t want you to be my trainer. To be perfectly clear, I never wanted you to train me in the first place. I’m just not the type to complain, you know. I’m not picky. Beggers can’t be choosers. I take what I can get. And you were all I was offered, but...” she trails off, delivering a particularly hard punch, “It’s not gonna work. I may not be picky, but I know when to draw the line. I know when I deserve better.”

“Kid, you really have no idea what the case really is here.“ He attempts desperately, taunted by the thought of acting on his instincts and approaching her even if that means being the recipient of one of those hard punches.

“You know, I’m strong. I’m skilled. I can hold my own in a fight quite nicely. I’m endurable. I’m not afraid to work my ass off and sweat and pant like a dog after workouts. There’s not a line I wouldn’t cross, but you still choose to make me feel lesser than any soldier you’ve ever come across, that’s really lovely of you, Captain Redfield.“

“Winters, please...“

“It’s ok, I won’t tell Ethan and Mia. I’m sure they’ll send you to hell over it. I’m not petty like that.“

He’s had enough. He’s had enough of hearing that hurt tone in her voice. He’s done hearing these words she’s so certain are true but aren’t. He’s done lying to her and to himself. Before he can even think twice about it, he grabs her by the arms gently but firmly, turning her to face him despite her hostile attempts to free herself from his hold like a wild animal caught in a trap. He’s surprised when she relaxes, probably seeing that as a quicker way out of the situation rather than struggling though if she tried to free herself any longer he would’ve probably let her go.

“Fucking hell, Gwen, listen to me.“ He looks her dead in the eyes, catching onto the spark of shock created by his use of her first name. But he also sees something else, something that looks dangerously a lot like tears. He knows she won’t cry, especially not in front of him, but knowing that he’s the cause behind the welling of those crystal droplets in her always shiny, always smiling eyes breaks him. When she doesn’t look away nor protest, he continues, “I can’t be your captain. I can’t be your trainer. I can’t be any of that. I’m a strictly professional man, and it’d be highly unprofessional of me to take you in as my soldier.”

“But why?“ She’s fully aware she sounds like a whiny kid - exactly how she thinks he envisions her sometimes - but she couldn’t care less. She wants and needs answers. She knows she won’t be able to fall asleep or keep coming back to the training center if she doesn’t get them.

It’s blatantly clear this is far from easy for Chris. His first instinct is to look away, let go of her, run away like he always does - not that she’d let him do such a thing but still. He’s finds the words impossible to spit out yet he oh so desperately feels the need to get them out of his system. And so, he gathers all the strength within him and finally forces himself to say it.

“Because a captain isn’t supposed to look at a soldier the way I look at you.“

Sure, it sounds cryptic as heck but he has no doubt she’ll catch on. Gwen is a smart and sharp girl, among many other things. She confirms this when barely three seconds after he’s said it, he notices her eyes widening

“Sir, I-“

“Don’t.“ He says simply, a small, regretful smile playing across his lips as his hand slides down her arm to take hold of hers, “I just admitted my dirtiest secret to you and you are still gonna remind me how unprofessional I am by using my title, Kid?“

She purses her lips, the shock momentarily replaced by her signature mild glare, “Well, you just admitted your biggest secret to me and yet you still choose to call me ‘Kid’, huh?”

He chuckles, letting his other hand repeat the movements of the first, “Sorry, force of habit.” His thumbs brush against her knuckles briefly as his head falls, his gaze fixating on where their bodies are connected, “You know, I didn’t tell you this to get myself any pity or anything. I just wanted you to understand and....wanted to get it off my chest. Ethan will kill me if he finds out, won’t he?” He suddenly asks, regaining the courage to look up at her once again.

She giggles, “Who says he’s gonna find out?”

Chris bites the inside of his cheek, shaking his head, “You’re right, there’s nothing really to find out abo-”

Gwen has never been a chatter nor can she tolerate when people beat around the bush so she’s quick to cut them off sometimes, no matter how rude that may seem or sound. However, just to clarify, her chosen method of cutting a person off isn’t always kissing them. Just saying - this is a special situation requiring special methods.

Taken aback by the sudden feeling of her lips on his, Chris’ eyes close automatically but not even a second later he responds to the kiss properly: wrapping his arms around Gwen’s waist as her hands travel up to cup his face. The kiss is short - too short if either of them is to be asked - but it’s worth all the words they didn’t say despite wanting to.

When they pull away, Gwen gives him a mischievous smile, “Now he could find out about that and then shit would go south. That’d suck, wouldn’t it Chris?“

He’s only ever heard her say his name twice, once in passing conversation with Claire and once earlier when she paraphrased his term ‘Chris-phobe’, both time spoken with some dose of dislike he now realizes was a cover-up all along. Turns out the two are a lot more alike than they initially thought. Regardless, hearing her say his name with fondness instead of bitterness makes his heart flutter, his body yearn to have her closer, his lips wanting to be in contact with hers again. But he’s a patient and self-controlled man, he’s nothing if not willpower sculpted in a human body, so he keeps his distance, waiting for her to pick the moves, waiting for her to make the decisions just like she’s his captain.

“Big time.“ He manages to say, voice coarse all of a sudden, barely able to leave his throat. “So it stays here, right?”

She giggles again, bringing her lips within an inch or two away from his, taunting him, threatening to break his self-control, “What happens in the gym stays in the gym, Redfield.”

Golden rules of discretion, ones he mustn’t break ever. Especially not when his captain - Captain Gwen Winters - holds so much power over him.

[justformyself2]

what is up with us and boats?

Happy Easter yall!!! This one goes out to the beautiful soul that gave the idea @alievans007​ thank you do much, i really hope you enjoy ♥

I don’t know if you guys ever watched “My Best friend’s Wedding.” but there is this scene were they are on the boat ride in Chicago, and i love that scene, this is sort of based on that. 

VIDEO FOR WHO WANTS TO SEE.  (CLICK)

KrasinskixReader/Fluff.

(don’t remember where i got this gif from.)

"We need to talk." The worst type of message anyone could ever receive. 

Holding up a smirk, you start typing.

"Yes, we do."

"Could you focus? You know, for the love of God and everything. We still have to drive to Olivia's after this." Mariah interrupts whatever dance with the danger you were having with John over text.  

"Why is everybody so weird all of the sudden? First John and now you too, I mean, we are settling details here. The trip to Positano is all sorted."

She gets radio silent, making you look away from your phone. 

"Mariah." You call.

"What?" She answers, badly covering the stress in her voice.

"Everything is fine, right?"

She breaths out through the nose, clicking on the mouse rapidly. 

"Mariah." You call again as if an answer different than you were expecting would come out. 

The Positano trip was a huge deal, a huge, cryptic deal that Mariah arranged by herself through an old friend you never heard or saw. The client, by the name of Vince, was paying double to hire your company, and an undeniable request came, almost sweeping away all of your doubts. You would get to shoot a perfume commercial during the holidays at the place you always dreamed of visiting. It was embarrassing how fast the yes came out, almost in a scream towards Mariah's face, even though there was something off. 

It was true that in the past you worked for the big names, but since the decision to open your own company with Mariah happened, it was all new, too new to be receiving this type of offer. You decided to brush it off by 

trusting your business partner, Mariah had been in the game longer than you have, and if she claimed, more than once, that it was a safe offer and that she had under control then you should believe since her reputation was on the game too, but now get to watch her sitting in front of you, looking worried.

"Well, I'm going to make some phone calls, but don't worry, it is a quick fix situation. I will be right back."

She gets up from the desk, grabbing her phone, and leaving the space before you could say something back. 

Your mind wonders over the fact that your intuition should be listened to more often. It was a "too good to be true" offer, so if that would end up being right, and Mariah came back with the bad news, would it mean that you were probably right about John too.

You look at your phone, facing down on the desk, and decide to check the messages again. There must be something missing between the lines.

Inserting the pin you open up the new messages you received from your boyfriend.

"What do you mean with ‘yes we do’?"

"Tell me when I can call you."

"Damn. I think I'm not getting the week off. They are talking about reshooting some parts." 

"I will call you in 10 minutes."

And just as you read the last one, your phone vibrates. It was his call. Taking a deep breath, you accept it.

"Hey, babe, did you get my texts?"

You hear the many voices in the background mixing with his.

"Yes, I did... Are you on set right now?"

"Yes. I'm on a little break...I'm sorry, baby. I'm not going to make it to Positano."

The frustration makes your heart skip a beat even though you saw the message, hearing it in his voice had a different effect. You stopped counting the weeks without him because of the impact they had on your day, instead, in a very unhealthy way, that habit was replaced with you picturing him waiting for you at home, laying in the bed you shared or in the kitchen, trying to replicate whatever recipe out of Youtube just to prove that he could cook, just to try to impress you. He still wanted to impress you after all this time, he just didn't figure out how to be in two places at once. 

"Well, don't be. If I'm right I don't think this trip is happening." 

As time passes by without Mariah coming back, your guess was becoming a reality. It wasn't a quick fix thing.

"What are you talking about?"

His voice went urgent, and he quickly added: "I mean, it was a great offer."

"Yes, but it is a holiday season. It gets difficult with hotel reservations and flights, but Mariah ran away before I could get a word out of her. It happens."

"Wow, you sound so indifferent. I thought you loved Positano." 

You had to agree with him. You felt the apathy in your bones.

"I do love Positano, but the offer was out of touch like something was off like everything is off."

You hear him chuckle and frown to yourself, walking towards Mariah's laptop on her desk.

"What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean. You were so weird when I dropped you at the airport as if you wanted to say something to me or pass out."

You reminisce his pale face and the way his hands were clammy on yours before the goodbye on the car. 

"Those are two very different things." You wanted to picture the face he could be doing right now.

"Well, I still feel like there is something you are not tell-."

"Baby, I need to go right now, sorry, I will call you later okay."

The interruption of a female voice in speakers was the last thing you heard before he hanged up.

"What the hell was going on?" You say to yourself. 

Forgetting about the phone you decided to check on Mariah's laptop for confirmations, but before anything was done she busted through the door.

"Did you fixed it?"

You ask, seeing her avid eyes shift between you and the laptop.

"What are you doing?" She asks and snaps out of the suspicion stare.

"What do you mean what am I doing? I want to help. Do you care to tell me what is happening, Mariah?"

Her phone calls her attention, and she rushes towards the laptop, answering quickly, leaving you only to watch again.

"Did you get my text? Yes, apparently a bug happened on the site, and our plane tickets got canceled." She discoursed to the person on the other site.

"I don't know if we are getting new ones on the same date, there is a lot of demand... Well, then we have to cancel for no-... Are you sure? Okay, no. I can do that, is way off plan, way less dreamy, really, way less, but I guess we can do it if you do this right now."

She pauses, focused on what was being passed down. "Okay, then it's the new plan. Okay, okay, bye."

Hanging up, she now seemed to be willing to share.

"Change of plans. I informed Vince's team about what happened, and a girl named J-Jannete said that we should meet to settle some details. They want to go for a studio since the deadline would get messed up because of the plane ticket debacle."

"Shit, why didn't you put on speakerphone? I know someone that could help us wit-."

"NO!..." She screams, making you back away involuntary.  "I mean, I already checked that, and we can't keep tapping on something that isn't working. They are already upset and we could lose even more time. Jenna set up a meeting with Vince himself...Jannete, at four, so you get to meet him, as you wanted."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . .. . . . . . .. . . . . . .. . . . 

"Why are we on a boat ride again?"

You ask Mariah, who fanned herself with a flier they were distributing about the ride.

"Because we got bailed on and it has been a long time since I don't go on one of those."

She adjusts the sunglasses in an annoyed way. 

The day-star was starting to set, still, the weather was hot and humid as if it was peaking. You try to catch delicate hints of purple and pink on the mostly light orange painted sky.

"I haven't been on one of these since John asked me to be his girlfriend. It was our third date. He insisted on the boat ride and I didn't like it, but then the sun was setting so beautifully, in not time the only thing i could care about was the way he looked at me."

There is no interruption other than the sting in your chest, making you stop on the tracks of something you loved to remember.

"I think John is lying to me. I don't think he was on set." Voicing the thoughts made them too real, and suddenly you wanted to forget about them.

"Yeah."

Mariah twists her torso once or twice, looking back to the people who were still taking seats. You doubted she was listening to anything you said all the way here. She started inspecting the place, restless since the taxi dropped you two.

"Okay, are you waiting for someone?"

By impulse, you look back to pursue whatever her eyes were trying to find even without knowing, and that is when you spotted him, a vision that walked towards you, seeming to be out of breath. His mouth partially open turns into the smile you wanted to kiss.

"Son of a bitch."

The words flew from your lips and you hear Mariah's laugh.

Your eyes follow his movements with thirst, so much thirst that everything else is a mere blur in the background.

John comes closer, saying something to Mariah when she gets up and hugs him. She never hugged him. 

You swallow dry, seeing for a second Mariah give you a thumbs up before walking away.

"Hey." He almost whispers towards your face, taking the seat, and when his lips come closer to yours, you back away. He frowns.

"You were in LA."

"Yes, I was."

"Please, don't short answer me."

He gets up from the chair and grabs extends his hand towards you.

"Come with me, and I will explain."

Not thinking twice you accept his hand, being guided to the stern of the boat, walking in the middle of strangers and loud conversations. John drops your hand and reaches for your waist with smoothness as if he could be taking you to dance. Intuitively your arms laces around his neck.

His eyes trace a path away from you and straight to your mouth before he started moving.

"You are so difficult to lie to." He starts, smirking. 

A gust of wind blows the locks of your hair away, and his fingers are quick to adjust them behind your ear, sending goosebumps on your back. You missed his touch on your skin.

"But you did lie to me." You can't help to say, trying to focus.

"It was only because I wanted to this right, but I know I would blow it at some point. It almost happened when you dropped me at the airport."

"Do what right?"

His breath came out uneasy through his nose, and he licks his lips.

"Ask you to...marry...me."

Instantly you feel your eyes starting to water. There was no control or rational thought that could calm down the wave of feeling like the soles of your shoes weren't touching the wooden floor of that boat, and his arms were the only thing keeping you down.

"There is no Vince. It was a bait to make a surprise for you and get you to Positano without getting too suspicious, and I lied about not going as part of the surprise. I would do the whole thing right, bring our families, have a huge dinner, enjoy a couple of days there. Then your tickets got canceled, the Vince thing got way too suspicious, and I haven't seen you in almost four weeks. Next thing I know, I was at the airport, counting the hours to do this."

He captures your lips with his before you could comprehend. There are intensity and the passion you craved, and that only he could provide, he could devour you, and you would let him.

"Do it right now."

You ask, out of breath, after parting the kiss with his moan of reproval.

"Don't you want the real thing? You know, I can figure out the tickets, maybe call Clooney and ask if we can borrow his private jet. He will probabl-."

"I don't care where you are going to propose to me. I just want you to do it, that is the real thing. It could have been on the car, at breakfast, at the airport, or even in a replica of the day you asked me to be your girlfriend."

He laughs, kissing you again. He holds your face in his hands, parting the kiss to gaze at your eyes.

"Oh, I'm glad you remembered it. That is why I wanted to make something different this time. What is up with us and boats?."

"I don't know but let's get back into the program here. You were about to ask me something." 

He frowns, looking away theatrically.

"And what was the question, again?" John asks, setting his face close to yours. His lips touching your cheeks, coming closer to your ear.

"Was it something like. Do you want to marry me?" 

You could feel your neck hair getting up with the vibration of his low and deep tone affecting you easily.

"Yes."

[deputytrash]

Shotgunning

Rating: Explicit (18+ ONLY)

Fandom: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)

Relationship: Javier Escuella/Female Reader

Words: 3898

Summary: Javier teaches you about how good smoking marijuana feels, among other things

Featuring period accurate underwear, the historically accurate spelling of marijuana and some inclusions of how I felt the first time I smoked weed (which was 100% less saucy than this reader's first time smoking).

Read on AO3

It was quiet around the camp. Darkness had long since rolled in as everyone settled in for the night, finished with their drinking and chatting. You'd drawn the short end of the stick on chores earlier in the day so you were just finally wrapping up. When you'd gone to Miss Grimshaw to bring her the mended and washed clothes, she had taken them and told you to "go on and do as you please then." You fully intended to do just that.

You stopped by your bedroll, stripping off your day clothes down to your underthings, a simple off-white slip of fabric over your bloomers, and made your way to Pearson's wagon. You were determined to spend what little was left of the night relaxing with a bottle and a book. You'd more than earned the lazy time, after all. You managed to find a bottle of whiskey in acceptable condition and made your way to the scout campfire. It was always quieter just a bit outside of camp, and you were eager to get away from the bustle of it all for a moment.

You started that way, noticed Javier lounging in the area. Nervous butterflies fluttered in your gut and you paused, considering turning back, if only for the sake of your nerves. You certainly weren't unhappy to see him. Honestly, you quite liked the man. Your instantaneous friendly affections had quickly developed into a pesky crush that had been frustratingly unyielding in your attempts to suppress it. His smooth words and warm smiles always managed to pull you back and get you terribly flustered.

Javier was settled with his back against one of the logs circling the fire. He'd slipped down to his union suit and pants, suspenders hanging off his hips and falling in the dirt. His long legs stretched out in front of him, crossed at the ankle as he smoked. His movements were slow and languid as he glanced over at your approaching figure and gave you a lazy little smile. You smiled back.

Your grin faltered as you came closer, though, your nose picking up a strong, unfamiliar scent. You looked around searching for the source. "Javier, what the fuck is that smell?" Your eyes settled on the twisted cigarette between his fingers. It looked hand-rolled. Had he run out of regular cigarettes? "Are you sure that tobacco's still good? It seriously smells like rotten shit."

"Hey, that's not nice," Javier laughed, eyes red-tinged and mirthful. "And that's 'cause it's not tobacco," he said, cryptically.

"What the fuck is it then?" You wrinkled your nose, but you were already noticing the smell less as the smoke drifted off with the wind. He laughed again, shaking his head.

"Hosea is gonna give you a lecture on bad language if you keep that up," He teased. You blushed and rolled your eyes, but he wasn't wrong. "It's marihuana. I used to smoke it all the time back in Mexico. You want to try it?" He raised his eyebrows, offering you the twisted up cigarette with one blackened end.

"Marihuana?" You tested the word in your mouth. It sounded a lot weirder without Javier's smooth accent. "I've never heard of it." When you don't take the cigarette from him, Javier shrugs, bringing his arm back down to rest on his lap.

"Same thing as cannabis. It's in some medicines around here," he explained.

You shifted on your feet, embarrassed at your sheer ignorance on the topic at hand. "Sorry, I don't really know medicine stuff." You sat down on the other half of the log he was leaned against, movements somewhat stiff and awkward. "Been meaning to learn, but it's hard to know what's real and what's snake oil these days…Anyway, if it's medicine why are you smokin' it?" You hoped Javier wasn't sick or something.

"Well, It's not always medicine. It also just…feels good. Kinda like when you smoke too much tobacco, but a lot better and without the sick feeling," he said with a pointed smirk. You let out an embarrassed laugh, knowing he was thinking of the first time you'd smoked tobacco. It was a few years ago when you had, foolishly, tried to keep pace with Dutch's smoking and had ended up dizzy and green. You'd tried to play it off, making some excuse to shuffle away, but Javier had caught on. He'd stepped away from the group, making you promise not to throw up on him as he led you to your bedroll. Once there, Mary Beth had promptly shooed him away and insisted on taking care of you, herself; God bless the woman.

Javier brought a swiftly lit match back up to the cigarette at his lips. He inhaled, pausing and coughing on the exhale as he shook out the match, throwing the little wooden stick into the sandy dirt.

"Are you okay?" His cough worried you. "Does it hurt?"

"No, no." He coughed again, tried and failed to pass it off as clearing his throat. "Just…been a while since I've done this." He gave you a goofy grin that you couldn't help but return.

You looked down to take a drink of your whiskey. Was that too long of eye contact just then? You hoped you hadn't weirded him out. God, was a quick smile really all it took to muss up the entirety of your composure?

Javier called your name, breaking you from your thoughts. You looked over to find him with a curious smile on his face. "I've got an idea if you want to try this." He waved the cigarette in his hand. "Just to ease you into it. Don't have to, but I think you'd like it."

You thought for a moment, some nervousness building again before saying fuck it and nodding. You knew Javier would never rope you into something that might hurt you. "Yeah, alright. I'll give it a try."

"Come over here and sit next to me, then." You hesitated before gathering your bravery to settle down beside him. He smiled at you, noticing your tenseness. "Don't have to be nervous, I promise. It'll be fun."

You nodded, but you were more nervous about the proximity than the drug.

"Okay, so, what I'm going to do is get some smoke and breathe it out to you. You just breathe in, hold it for a little, and let it out, okay? And if you want to stop, just tell me." You nodded again, dizzy at the inherent intimacy of the proposal.

Javier took a deep breath off of the cigarette. He held the smoke in his lungs for a moment and motioned for you to move in closer to him. He managed to maintain a just on this side of platonic distance from you as he gently blew smoke to your lips. You breathed in as deeply as you could before, twisting away to hack out the smoke, forgetting about the holding it in part entirely. He laughed, patting your back as you relearned how to breathe.

"Sorry," you muttered, coughing, feeling embarrassed.

Javier was nonplussed. "'S no problem. You want to try again?"

"Gimme a minute," you replied. He nodded.

Your mouth was bone-dry and desperate for liquid. "Fuck, where's my whiskey?" Javier grabbed it, taking a swig for himself before moving to hand it to you.

"Here," he said, handing it to you. "Don't drink too much. I know you've got a good tolerance, but marihuana makes alcohol a lot stronger." You coughed again, taking a drink. You were really wishing that you'd brought some water up here.

It took a moment before your breathing settled down, lungs thankful for the return of regular old oxygen. You took another moment, preparing yourself. "Okay, I'm ready."

He followed the same series of steps as before, but this time you managed to hold it for a few seconds before hacking it back out. He patted your back again, settling his arm to stretch out on the log behind you afterward.

You felt yourself relax. Something distinctly not alcohol was working through your blood, plying your muscles and calming your mind. You blinked. Your eyes felt swollen and heavy. Everything felt like it was moving just a bit more slowly.

You looked over at Javier and he gave you a conspiratorial smile. "You starting to feel it? You look like you are."

You nodded, the simple movement spurring a heady, dizzy feeling. "Shit, I think so."

"Good. Let it settle in for a minute and I can give you some more." You nodded, again, eyes settling on the fire. It was beautiful. The chaotic pattern of the flames shifting and licking at the sky entranced you and, as you glanced at Javier again, you felt how absolutely beautiful he was as well.

He smiled lazily as he met your gaze. "You having fun? Feel good?"

"Y-yeah," You breathed, suddenly recognizing your staring for what it was and looking down at your hands wringing them together, embarrassed.

"Do you want some more?" He asked.

Did you? You felt good, better than you had felt in a while, despite the nervous thrumming of your heart in your rib cage. You nodded and watched him as he effortlessly worked through the same routine again.

He inhaled the smoke into his lungs and leaned in to breathe it out to you again. His eyes were heavy as he watched your lips drink it in. Fuck, was he closer? Your tongue was dry and sticky in your mouth as you tried to lick your lips, holding the smoke in your lungs. Your eyes fell closed on the exhale, mind wrapped in a warm swirling haze before you pulled away and coughed out the smoke into your hand.

His palm was rubbing your back now, cooing at you, softly working you through your hacking. Your inability to smoke without coughing was starting to feel more amusing than embarrassing and you choked out a laugh.

It was starting to get cold outside, now, as the night fully rolled in. The cool night air soothed your burning throat and chilled your flesh, the breeze raising goosebumps on your skin. Javier noticed, beckoned you closer. "Come here. You can lean against me if you're cold."

You shifted to move closer, dizziness hitting again as you fell into a fit of giggles. Your face felt ridiculous, like little bugs were dancing along the outline of every feature. You didn't want him to think you were laughing at him, but you couldn't hold it back. Everything felt hilarious.

"Hey, hey what's so funny?" He laughed nervously, ducking his head to meet your eyes.

You laughed again. You felt bizarre and goofy and light all at the same time. "I'm sorry, Javier. I ain't laughin' at you, but…I-I can feel my eyebrows." He gave you an amused but confused look as you bust out laughing again. "That sounds so stupid but they feel fuzzy." You reached up to scratch at your eyebrows, failing to hold back another giggle when the feeling stubbornly returned. You knew you were acting like a fool, but you couldn't seem to help it.

He laughed as well, shaking his head with a smile. "God, come here and get warm, giggles. You're ridiculous."

You shifted over obediently, laughter fading into a smile as you let your body melt into his side. He was warm and comfortable. He smelled like the smoke that still coated your throat mixed with something indescribable, but so distinctly him.

The weight of his arm settled strongly against your shoulders as his warm palm gently smoothed down the little bumps scattered across the skin of your arm. The texture of his hands against your skin was almost overwhelming as your hair follicles relaxed into the heat. Was this cuddling? Holy shit, you were cuddling Javier, you realized, belatedly.

"You're so soft," he murmured, fingers still brushing over your skin. Your cheeks flushed. Were you? You brushed your own fingers against your skin experimentally and found yourself strangely fascinated by the smooth texture.

"Oh shit, I am," you laughed and he raised his eyebrows, grinning down at you like you were the most lovely, silly, little thing he'd ever seen. You couldn't handle it. You pressed your face into his shirt, feeling sleepy and giddy and warm in too many ways.

"Look at me," he whispered. You peeked up at him with dazed, reddened eyes. "You're beautiful."

You hid your face again, picking at the skin of your fingers. "God, Javier you're not fair."

He chuckled, fingertips dancing lightly over your arm. Your skin momentarily pinched back up into little goosebumps before fading again "How am I not fair?" he laughed. "I'm sharing my marihuana with you. I'm warming you up. I even complimented you. I think I'm being very fair."

Goddammit. Your head was spinning. Where the fuck did he learn to be so charming? You wanted to tamp down this nervous energy bubbling inside you, get brave again. "Can I have some more?"

"Of course," he smiled. Flicking another match against the box, he readied the dwindling cigarette.

You were mere inches away this time. Javier's fingers moved to play with the soft hairs against your neck, rough thumb rubbing circles into your skin. Anticipation coiled in your belly, the thumping of heart louder than normal. Somehow, you managed not to cough this time, breathing the smoke back out to mix with his exhale. You met his eyes, felt the heat in them as he watched you. If your mouth felt dry before, it was the Sahara Desert now.

He leaned forward and kissed you. It was brief, quick, and chaste, but you felt like your world shifted, opening up before you. You stared at him before quickly kissing him again, the touch just as fleeting as the first. You stared at him, breathless, eyes searching his face, simultaneously frozen and utterly desperate for more.

He pulled you onto his lap, legs side-saddled, meeting your lips again. You were still riding an amazing high, body light and airy. He was warm against you as you deepened the kiss before pulling back for air. "I feel real good, Javier," you mumbled, breathless.

"I can make you feel even better if you want," he murmured, shifting to kiss down your jawline as his palm settled on the bare skin of your thigh. "Just say the word." Fuck, was this really happening?

"Please," you breathed, your voice knowing what you wanted before your thoughts had even caught up.

His teeth nipped at the flesh of your ear lobe as his palms felt over your body, his hands warm enough to feel even where your skin was still covered with cloth. He took his time, exploring you, slipping his fingers under the edges of your clothing to swipe over your skin, brief and teasing.

"God, Javier, I already said please," you breathed, overwhelmed and desperate.

"Patience. I want to savor you," he murmured against your cheek, kissing it. He worked your nightgown up until the bottom stitching fell around your thighs. "Spread your legs for me."

You shivered when the cold air rushed into the open crotch of your knickers as you shifted your legs. His fingers played with the fabric there momentarily, before lightly brushing over the hair covering your core. You stared at his every movement, fighting the urge to shove his hand further, press his fingers into you.

You looked up to find his eyes studying your face. Had he been watching your reactions this whole time? "I meant it when I said you're beautiful." You felt overwhelmed, tried to impress your feelings back with your lips against his.

You pulled back, hand resting on his cheek before pinching it lightly. He gave you a look.

"And I meant it when I said you're not fair," you complained, squirming in his lap, attempting to goad him into action. "Come on, Javier." You started to undo the line of buttons on his union suit, kissing his neck.

"Ay, I'm not fair, she says." he grinned, rolling his eyes, pulling your hand and mouth away from himself. "So impatient. I'll show you unfair."

He continued his gentle ministrations, escalating even more slowly than before. His palms worked over your breasts, squeezed over your thighs, fingers just barely brushing over your dripping slit. The frustrating heat in your belly grew heavier with every passing moment. Maybe you should've just kept your mouth shut.

"Javier," you groaned in exasperation.

"Yes?" he asked, mirthful and teasing.

What did he want? You were ready to do just about anything at this point, promise the man anything he wanted.

"Fuck, okay. You win. I'm sorry, Javier. You've been real nice to me; I mean it. Please touch me. Please," you begged, making no effort to hide your frustration.

Javier laughed. "Yeah? Where do you want me to touch you?" He spoke softly back to you. You resisted rolling your eyes. Of course, he was going to make you say it.

"My c-cunt," you squeaked out, lips embarrassingly falling over the word.

"Can't believe there's a word you're shy about saying," Javier laughed. "Come on, lift yourself up." He tapped against your butt. You raised up slightly as he worked your nightgown up past your hips. His fingers pulled at the tie on your knickers, loosening it and working them off as well.

"Shit," he hissed, palms immediately feeling over the revealed skin. "So good, you're so beautiful."

The warmth of his hands felt wonderful, but it wasn't what you wanted right now. "God, Javier, ain't I begged enough?"

His laugh shook against you. "You're so fussy." His fingertips shifted down to slip between the lips of your pussy as he groaned out a curse. You were soaked. You opened yourself wider for him, arm moving to grip behind his shoulder for balance. His fingers dragged the slick up to your clit and back down to your entrance before finally, finally pushing inside you.

"Oh, God, Javier," you whispered, more breath than words.

You clenched around his fingers, momentary relief at the stretch flooding your mind before he began fucking them into you, building you back up to desperation. The heel of his palm hit at the hood of your clit perfectly with each thrust as he quickly found the spot that made your legs shake.

"Never would've thought you'd be this needy," he laughed. "Always act so tough with everybody. You're real cute. I love it."

You buried your face against his shoulder, doing your best to stifle your whimpers and ragged groans. You gripped his shirt between your fingers, hips pressing back against his hand as wet noises echoed in your ears.

He shifted underneath you and you felt his cock, firmly pressed against your hip. He ground himself against you, hissing out a moan. "You make me fucking crazy."

"Fuck, Javier, I want you inside me," you whimpered, any resistance to begging left behind in the dirt. "Please fuck me. I'll do anything."

His teasing patience seemed to break at your words. He made a broken sound, hissing out a "shit" before pulling away to desperately wrestle with his belt buckle and the remaining buttons on his underclothes. "You have no idea what you do to me. You have no fucking idea how many times I've thought about you saying those words."

You lifted up, giving him room as he tugged his pants down just enough to pull his cock out. He shifted his body to a slightly more stretched out angle as you straddled his legs. His heated eyes jumped from your dripping pussy to your face. He looked dazed and desperate and you felt the same as you kissed him.

His hands gripped at your hips, tugging at you to move closer. "Come here, let me feel you."

"You sure I shouldn't show you some unfairness now?" you teased, palm wrapping around his cock to drag his foreskin over his tip.

The withering look he gave you was priceless. You didn't have any more patience in you either, admittedly, and, after a kiss on his frown, you clambered up his thighs, holding him at your entrance. He pulled you down to himself and you let him, sinking down to wrap yourself around him.

The fact that you were still a dizzy, inebriated mess really hit you once you tried to move in any cohesive way. Your rhythm was sloppy and unrefined as you ground your hips against his, hands gripping his shoulders for balance. The pleasant, heavy drag of him against you was building you back up, regardless.

You grew impatient, though, and quickly became frustrated with the nagging complaints of your muscles, already tired from the day. Javier must have noticed as he gripped your hips into the right position before planting his feet in the dirt to thrust up into you, hitting you at the perfect angle. He fucked into you with a far better rhythm than you had managed, hard and fast. The sudden change of pace had you whimpering out a throaty moan. He kissed you, drinking down the sound with a shushing noise.

"Gotta be quiet," he whispered, chuckling and obviously damn proud of himself. "Still got people on guard duty." You sobered up a fraction of an inch at the thought. You'd forgotten your surroundings, wrapped safely in your addled mind.

A well-aimed thrust from Javier had your attention snapping back to him and slipping back into your own foggy world. You struggled not to let out another noise, only somewhat successful. His tongue darted out to wet his lips. His hooded eyes focused on you, tracking every twitch and show of ecstasy that slipped over your face.

The tug in your core was becoming more and more insistent with every perfect hit Javier landed. You knew what you needed as you slipped two of your fingers into your mouth. You moved them to your clit, pressing against it and massaging it in rough, hurried circles. It wasn't long before you felt your body tensing and clamoring for the release Javier was pounding you towards.

Your lips stumbled over his name, eyes squeezed shut, too overwhelmed to add visual stimuli. "I'm-" was all you managed to skip out before your mouth fell open in a breathy, too-loud moan. Your pussy clenched tightly around him, falling into trembling aftershocks as he kept pace, chasing his own end.

"Fuck, yes, you're so good. You did so good. Feel so good," Javier mumbled, praise slipping out of his mouth mindlessly. His thrusts became deeper, less coordinated. He hissed out a final "fuck," fingers digging into your hips desperately before pulling out and jerking himself onto your thighs.

The pair of you fell to the dirt, exhausted and boneless and feeling so fucking good.

Javier picked up the cigarette from wherever it had landed, wagging it in front of you. "Still have a tiny bit more. You want to finish it with me?"

You grinned. "Fuck yeah, I do."

You wiped your thighs off with your knickers, settling in his lap as you breathed down the last of the cigarette with him, inhales interspersed with kisses and laughter.

Yeah, you were gonna have to find some more of this marihuana shit.

[hale-13]

En Pointe

By Hale13

For the Summer of Whump Day 24 Prompt - Stitches

No matter how much she hates the Red Room, ballet is still Natasha’s go to stress relief. Peter is just curious and eager to learn.

Words: 2311, Chapters: 1/1 (Complete), Language: English

Fandoms: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)

Rating: Gen

Relationships: Peter Parker & Natasha Romanov, Peter Parker & Tony Stark

Characters: Peter Parker, Natasha Romanov, Tony Stark

TW: Broken Bones, Blood

Read on AO3 or below the line break.

“You do ballet?” Peter asks curiously as he watches Natasha tear the shank out of her new pointe shoes. Her old pair is still in pretty decent shape since she only dances on occasion now but its always been relaxing to sew and break in a new pair and it never hurts to have a few back ups.

“Sometimes,” she answers cryptically as she steps on the toe box with her bare heel to flatten it out, Peter watches her fascinated, venturing further into the room and sitting cross-legged a few feet from her. He’s careful not to touch any of her old shoes or the ribbons and other tools and materials spread out in a semi-circle around where she’s sitting. “Why?”

Peter’s fingers are twitching where he has them pressed into his thigh like he’s holding back from touching. “I did ballet as a kid. Just a few months of classes before my parents died and I was terrible but it was fun.”

Natasha hums as she reinforces the toe of the shoe with glue and fans it a little to dry it out. “You probably wouldn’t be so terrible now,” she tells him as she bends one shoe and then the other, enjoying the cracking noise they make as she works them in. She looks over to Peter to consider him for a moment. “Want to try?”

“With you?” He squeaks and its kinda adorable how nervous he is. Nat suppresses a smirk as she puts on her toe spacers and worn out toe pads – the lambs wool she modified these with is absolutely perfect and she won’t even consider using another pair until these designate around her feet.

“Of course,” she answers, standing up and bending first one shoe and then the other before going up en pointe and squatting to work in both shoes. She’ll need to dance on them for a few hours before they start feeling really good but they aren’t too bad right now. Sometimes new shoes just aren’t right no matter how well she prepares them but she has a good feeling about this pair. “You seem mostly coordinated as Spider-Man at least, I think you can handle a few basic positions.”

“Uh yeah,” Peter says, jumping to his feet like an over eager puppy and making Natasha smile a bit. “Yeah that sounds great!” She can almost see his tail wag.

She gestures to the barre running the length of the studio Tony had put in the compound just for her and has them face each other, correcting Peter’s posture as she goes. His sneakers are ratty and falling apart and she wrinkles her nose at them. She taps them with the hard side of the box of her shoe. “Lose those. I don’t have a pair of men’s shoes lying around so you can just go barefoot for now.” Peter hastens to do as she steps into some resin, crunching the small rocks into powder and rubbing it into the sole, box and sides of her shoes. By the time she’s done, Peter has positioned himself back at the barre, barefoot and with the hems of his pants cuffed up to mid calf.

He looks a little nervous and intimidated so Natasha give him a little smile as she hands the barre with her left hand and adjusts herself into first position as Peter stares intently. “We’re going to do some plié to start I’ll show you the positions; this is first.” Peter’s more graceful than she expected, his legs easily falling into place without shaking or him losing his balance like most new students was. She’s almost impressed.

Peter’s a surprisingly quiet student – she’s seen him in the lab with Tony and in the field where the kid is definitely what she would describe as a chatterbox. He asks a few questions here or there but, for the most part, he just observes and follows her lead. He picks up the positions quickly and Natasha puts on some music and instructs him through her usual warm up. By the end he’s sweating a little but he looks relaxed and a little pleased with herself.

“Can you teach me to spin?” He asks her a little shyly but with an undercurrent of excitement, shifting his weight from foot to foot like an overeager puppy and Nat gives him a soft smile.

“Sure,” she says, ditching her point shoes and slipping into some flats. “So you want to start off…”

He falls over the first few times but he nails a sloppy spin the fourth time. He stumbles a little once he stops, arms akimbo and legs spread for balance with a surprised look on his face. He looks at her for a second with a clear expression of ‘did I just do that?’ before letting out an excited laugh and fist pumping. “Holy shit!” He says under his breath and Natasha laughs with him – his good humor infectious. “That was so fun!”

“Try it again,” she says. “And this time keep your arms tucked in tighter and you head fixed on a point. Like this,” she demonstrates again, focusing on a dent in the wall to keep her head from spinning with her body and to keep her from getting dizzy. Peter tries again and cleans up his form a little.

“I think I’ve got it,” he says after another few turns and then he starts again, spinning once, twice, three times and, on the fourth rotation she sees his ankle twist as if in slow motion. Peter lets out a grunt as he loses his balance and, instead of falling, tries to stick to the floor with his abilities. His momentum continues to pull him though and she hears his leg crack in a sound that echos through the studio over the soft music and makes her hair stands on end.

“Fuck!” Peter exclaims and he drops, hitting the smooth wood floor hard and immediately dropping onto his back, face ghostly. His tibia has broken cleanly in two near his ankle and twisted to break through the skin in a grotesque fashion, leaking blood onto the previously pristine floors. Natasha immediately falls back into her extensive first aid training and drops to the floor next to Peter, tying one of her leftover ribbons around his upper calf in a crude tourniquet.

“Let’s get medical down here FRIDAY,” her voice is calm even though her heart rate is elevated. Peter looks about two seconds from passing out but pushes himself up with prodigious effort only to turn green when he sees his leg, turning away from her abruptly to gag and retch. “Get it all out,” she tells him, rubbing a hand across his clammy back.

“It’s…” Peter gags again. “The bone… I…”

“Don’t look at it,” Natasha says firmly, pushing him back to the floor. “Tony told me you were accident prone but I didn’t know you were this bad,” she tells him with humor, pulling off the shrug she had put over her leotard and leggings and mashing it firmly into the wound, making Peter moan and turn white.

“It’s Parker Luck,” he tells her, sounding out of it. He looks like he may pass out and that just won’t do – she needs to keep him awake.

“What’s that?” She asks, brushing the hair off his forehead in a tender gesture and massaging his scalp a little.

“Just my specific brand of bad luck,” Peter says a little sardonically, his voice wavering from the pain. She wants to ask more but the door at the opposite end of the studio flies open hard enough to hit the wall and bounce back as Tony – helicopter mentor extraordinaire – skids into the room and literally trips over his own feet to get to Peter’s side. Natasha would roll her eyes if she wasn’t so concerned herself.

“What happened?” Tony asks her, tone accusatory and Natasha gives him a sharp look.

“We were doing ballet and he spun just a little too hard,” Peter groans from the floor, this time from embarrassment and covers his face with his hands muttering ‘just let me die’ under his breath. Tony flicks him on the forehead.

“Don’t be a dramatic little shit,” he chastises, still looking more worried than anything. “Only you would manage to give yourself a compound fracture learning ballet of all things.”

“Don’t be mean to me,” Peter whines. “I’m injured!”

Natasha can’t hold back her snort at this, the situation would probably be a lot less humorous if she didn’t know Peter would likely be completely back to normal in a couple weeks or less with his healing factor. The kid was like rubber.

“What did you do this time?” Bruce calls from the doorway, pulling a gurney and followed by a small gaggle of nurses. Natasha steps back and away as one of them takes over putting pressure on the still bleeding puncture and pulls Tony with her. She knows that if he had his druthers he would glue himself to Peter’s side and aggravate Bruce and the other medical professionals to death.

The team is quick and efficient in stabilizing Peter’s leg with a temporary splint and loading him on the stretcher, bustling out of her studio with Tony following just as quickly as they came in. Nat isn’t a big fan of crowds so she stays behind, cleaning the tacky blood off the floor before it dries and sets. As it is, the fine grains of the wood are tainted and she knows she has no chance of cleaning all of it out and resigns herself to dealing with flaking blood on the toes of her pointe shoes for the foreseeable future.

Satisfied with her clean up job, she slinks back to her room and showers, washing the remnants of Peter’s blood off her hands and forearms and the sweat out of her hair. She changes into some loungewear and dries her hair and, figuring she’s probably stalled long enough, grabs a book at random from her bookshelf and makes her way to the medical floor.

The halls are silently when she arrives thankfully and the waiting room is empty bar Tony. He’s seated in one corner facing the hall that leads to the operating and recovery rooms and tapping something into his StarkPad, reading glasses perched onto the tip of his nose and in danger of slipping off the end. He looks relaxed which she takes to mean the Peter will be just fine – not that she expected any different.

Tony jumps when she settles into the chair next to him, glasses falling to the floor and nearly fumbling his tablet. He sends her a glare without heat – he’s always complaining about her sneaking up on him but its not her fault he isn’t observant – and sets the tablet aside.

“Well?” She asks, quirking one eyebrow in expectation.

“He’ll be fine,” Tony tells her, relief clear in his voice. “They’d normally have to put in a pin or two but, with his healing, they just want to flush it out really well to prevent infection and then reduce the fracture and throw in some stitches and a brace. He’ll be on bed rest and crutches for the next week or so until the stitches can come out and he can transfer to a boot but he’ll be back up in no time.”

Natasha nods, she expected all of this really and pulls her legs up to sit cross-legged in the small chair. She didn’t do a cool down after her work-out and she can already feel all of her ligaments tightening up – her hips and knees crack as she adjusts and make Tony wrinkle his nose in obvious disgust. “He was doing pretty good for a while,” she says breezily. Kid’s got natural talent.”

“He can’t walk across a flat surface without tripping,” Tony tells her. “Don’t let all of his Spider-Man acrobatics fool you – Peter’s as clumsy as they come. His aunt should have wrapped him and put him in a bubble years ago.”

She laughs, elbowing Tony in the side and dodging his returning nudge. “He’s good for you,” she tells him honestly and Peter really is. She’s known Tony for a long time, considers him one of her closest friends barring Clint and this is the happiest and most settled she’s ever seen him. It makes her happy.

Tony blushes and clears his throat, trying to hide it but she can see the satisfied little smile on his face. He can’t deny his happiness. “Anyway,” he tries, changing the subject swiftly – she lets him. “You’ll have to help keep him entertained since part of this was your fault after all.”

“Not my problem the kid’s an accident waiting to happen,” she says with no heat. She already plans to hang around during Peter’s recovery. She can teach him more about ballet if he wants, he could shape up to be a pretty decent partner with some practice and she thinks it might help him a little with his balance and enhancements. Control of your body is important for both after all.

Later when Bruce leads them to Peter’s recovery room he gives her a knowing look that she ignores in favor of perching on the edge of the bed and teasing Peter about his poor technique. He’s high as a kite from the enhanced pain meds and cackles at her good natured jokes. Tony threatens to put him in a cushioned room for the rest of his life and Peter rolls his eyes like this is all par for the course.

He falls asleep again pretty quickly, drooling onto the pillow and twitching a little as he dreams and Natasha feels her chest feel with warmth.

Yes, she thinks Peter will make an excellent student.

[babylooneytoonz]

Warning(s): Are they back to bickering again? Like an old married couple ? Bucky Barnes gets a surprise.

Please read the other parts of this book using links from the Masterlist.

Three more months later,

(Six months ever since you left the Avengers Facility)

Bucky lowered his cap, and so did Natasha, Steve, Clint and Sam as they pushed their way through a swarm of drunk college kids that were dancing to a loud, buzzing electronic music.

"All these years, and I still don't get how this is even good. Buck and I can tell you how a good clubbing was done, back in the 1940s– " Steve was screaming on the top of his lungs.

"God, this is giving me a goddamn headache, why are we here again?" Bucky raised a brow, and fixed a cold, impassive glare on Sam.

"I was born on this day. I have the right to call the shots." Sam pointed out, and Natasha just grinned, her body almost swaying to the beats that were playing.

"God, at least they have drinks. Come on punk. I think the only place the two of us can be is the bar." Bucky nudged Steve and Sam just rolled his eyes while he and Natasha started dancing, Natasha rolling her hips in a seductive way while Sam was just sort of moving his hands.

Bucky, Clint and Steve walked up to the bar and they fixed themselves in a corner, their eyes scanning around as Clint smirked, "Come on, loosen up, grandpa's. What are we drinking?"

"I'm not drinking– "

"We'll have the four roses bourbon– "

Both Bucky and Steve spoke at the exact same time, and Bucky narrowed his eyes as he looked at his best friend, "Really? You people drag me out here and we're not even drinking ?"

"Buck, what's the whole point of drinking when we can't even get drunk?" Steve just shrugged, while Bucky just shook his head.

"It's better than nothing."

"Well I can't win from you. Let's do it. Although I'm not sure I even heard about that before," Steve chuckled and pulled a barstool, so he could fix himself on it as Clint spoke to the bartender.

The bartender placed the drinks on the counter, and Bucky curled his flesh fingers around his drink, lifting it up and placing it to his lips, his eyes watching Natasha and Sam, as they made their way towards them.

"Not fair? You started without us, Cap." Natasha smirked at Steve, and leant against the counter so she can throw in her words to the bartender, telling him what she wanted to drink. Sam just made his way closer to the men, standing next to Clint and slowly turning towards three girls that were standing by the dance floor, their drinks in their hands, but their eyes were on them.

"Well check that out. I call dibs on the one in green. Damn." Sam smirked, and Steve just shook his head in disapproval, and brought his drink up to his lips, while Clint smirked and rubbed his palms together, "Nah, I'm good mate. You can have her. I have a good one back home."

"Hey, she is looking at you man." Sam nudged Bucky's knee using his elbow and he just rolled his eyes in the most casual manner and turned his head to listen to what Sam had to say, when his eyes fell on one of the girls, who was biting her lip, staring at him. Disinterested, he just turned away; back into his drink, staring at the glass when Natasha just blurted out, regretting her words immediately, "lover boy's just waiting for Y/N to come back, bring him the hottest woman on earth now, he would still want her back."

Bucky's grip tightened on the glass, and instinctively, Steve grabbed his flesh arm, to hold him back before he could lose his control and do something he would later regret.

"Barnes, I didn't mean it," Natasha immediately added.

"You women often say things that you never mean, which is why I don't bloody understand the things that goes on in those minds of yours," Bucky brought up his index finger, placing it on Natasha's temple, tapping it twice.

The lot fell silent then, each of them now lost in their own trivial thoughts. Bucky replayed the conversation he had with you in your apartment, and how you had said that you didn't mean it. He just scoffed, and shook his head, a little too obviously and Steve started looking at him, noticing his friend's sudden weirdness before his phone beeped in his pocket and he pulled it out. "Great, Tony wants us back at the towers. Someone hacked into two of the HYDRA bases systems in Kazakhstan and Hungary. It was live for two minutes before they took it off, but Tony managed to get his hands on a few cryptic codes and coordinates." Steve stood up, his broad, bulky frame almost blocking out the lighting behind him, as he slid his phone back into his pocket.

"Well, it couldn't have been the government, or CIA. Does Tony know the potential hacker?" Clint raised an eyebrow, and Natasha crossed her arms over her chest.

"Couldn't be traced. But again, if we can figure out those cryptic codes and coordinates, we will have a lead." Steve called out before turning around to leave.

╞═════𖠁𐂃𖠁═════╡

"Romanoff, you get anything?" Tony called out, while Natasha just grunted in annoyance, not even bothering to crane her neck to look back from one of the computer screens, as her fingers skillfully glided across the keypad, typing here and there. Bucky leant by the wall, eyeing Steve's computer screen, watching him intently as he was struggling to turn the cryptic symbols into something meaningful.

"Bingo, I think I have it," Natasha yelled, and immediately, the four of them flocked around her screen, staring down at the brightly lit screen.

"Eighth Avenue, Tech Laboratories?" Bucky mumbled, his eyes squinted slightly as he leaned over Natasha's back, typing something onto the computer so that the maps came up.

"But those labs have been shut down ages back, illegal animal testing and shit." Tony replied, in a casual tone and Steve just bit his lip.

"That's the whole point, Tony. Whoever this is, whatever is going on, it's illegal, which is why there's this shade."

"Guys I hate to break it to you, the more we stay here talking, we might end up missing whatever is going on out there," Natasha deadpanned giving them a serious look, and Steve nodded.

It didn't take them very long to reach the old, abandoned laboratories that looked stale and dinghy in comparison to the other buildings surrounding it. It was weird and confusing why this building hadn't been taken down yet. Another thing to notice was, that the building, although miniscule, the empty land that was in the boundary of this building was massive, and yet secluded.

Bucky and Steve stepped off their bikes, while Natasha got off hers, with Sam riding pillion behind her. Their hands flew to their gun holsters and immediately, they drew out their guns. Their eyes fell on a black sedan that was parked a few meters away; and they knew that whoever this was, was probably still inside. Steve's index finger flew to his lips, as the four of them, with quiet steps starting making their way into the building, their eyes scanning the vicinity for anything that was off.

"Do we split up or – " Sam begin but Bucky have him a glare, and he pressed his lips shut, " my bad."

The four of them walked in deeper, noticing an intense change in the heat level inside as compared to the outside. The inside of the laboratories were freezing, and it felt like they were inside a freezer. Climbing a flight of stairs, making sure they didn't press much weight to the stairs, not wanting the stairs to announce their arrival, they stepped onto the first floor, and reflexively, they stopped, when they heard a familiar voice.

"Well, does everything look okay to you?"

Natasha's head snapped towards Steve in recognition, and his eyes widened, his own head snapping towards Bucky.

"Hey, why the fuck does the voice sound like Fury?" Sam whispered in Bucky 's ear.

"Because it's Fury, Sam."

Before Sam could speak, another voice reached their ears, and this voice was foreign, and unknown.

"Mr. Fury, this is something unlike I've ever seen. Those cells are multiplying at a rate faster than a normal human growth rate. These bruises, these bruises you see aren't something very common for a six month old fetus, yes they kick and all, but this is– "

"Holy shit, Fury probably knocked up a girl. Boy I think we are just at the wrong place at the wrong–  " Sam began whispering again, much to the annoyance of the others. They all turned towards him at the exact same time, ready to shut him up when a soft, feminine voice started speaking; a voice all of them were aware of.

"Did Erskine's serum cause any damage to my baby?"

James Buchanan Barnes turned white like a chalk. His eyes and his mouth were frozen wide open, in an expression of shock, and although he was staring straight at Steve; he appeared not to notice him at all, and all he could think of was what he had just heard. Steve took his best friend's side, placing his palm softly on his bicep, slightly shaking him out of his daze. Whoever that third person was, had probably left by now, and from what they could hear; it was just Fury and Y/N inside.

"I know you want to go and pull those motherfuckers out of their shitholes, Y/N, I really know you do, but right now, they are going to come after you and try to get their hands on that kid."

"And you think I'd let them ? I'd break every single bone in their bodies. Those pesky rodents, they deserve to be wiped off, you know it," You hissed, through pursed lips, unaware that a set of four eyes were now watching you and Fury from the corner. You were sitting on what looked like a gurney, your feet dangling off the edge. A loose fitting shrug was covering your shoulders, your palms cradling your pretty evident baby bump.

"I'm tired of dealing with your stubborn ass. This is the time to stay hidden."

"I am not going to do anything stupid Fury, not until this little guy's here," You hopped off the gurney, and ran your fingers through your hair, using your shrug to try and hide the bulge of your belly, before you looked towards the back entrance.

"Call me later, I'm gonna use that back door and get the hell out of here."

"Whatever, snarky," Fury smirked.

"Don't get started," you warned, making your way out through the back, your gun resting securely in the waist of your stretchable pants.

Nick Fury waited a few seconds until he had made sure that you had gotten out safely from the back. He then turned around, and casually started walking out; only to come face to face with four semi to super pissed Avengers.

"Fury," Steve was the first one to break the silence; and sensing that the four had probably heard it all, Fury lost the defensiveness in his stance and took a deep breath.

"Yeah, I didn't tell any of you because she didn't want me to," he was eyeing Bucky now, who had a tight squared jaw.

"How long have you known?" He raised an eyebrow, stepping in front of Steve.

"She came to me three months back, didn't know where else to go." He stopped speaking for a split second and then, in a low voice, almost grumbled under his breath, "I told her it is always a bad idea to hook up with a colleague; look where it landed her. First, it got her married to a fucking HYDRA dick, and second, it got her pregnant with a super soldier's spawn. When does she ever listen? And you, don't even get me started. You were the bastard that knocked her up."

"Come on, Fury. That's just harsh," Natasha chimed in.

"Guys, can I talk?"

Steve, Fury, Bucky and Natasha turned towards Sam and they gave him a quizzical expression, while Bucky just glared at him.

"The thing is, those coordinates, that hacked details, what the hell was that?"

Fury's eyes widened and he clenched his fists tighter against his side, stepping closer towards Sam, "What coordinates? What hacking?"

"It looked like someone hacked into the HYDRA system, we found these coordinates, and that's why we found out the secrets that you were hiding Fury," Natasha defended Sam immediately, as she winked playfully at Bucky. This is when Fury suddenly turned, pulling out his gun, and began sprinting towards the back entrance; as quickly as his legs could carry him, bolting down the lab.

"Where the hell are you going?" Bucky followed his pace with his own grueling pace, managing to reach him in a split second, and so did the other three.

"Those hackers weren't hacking from HYDRA. It was most probably HYDRA getting into our systems, the non official ones, to find her. They've landed on a jackpot, a freaking Winter Soldier baby. And if what you're saying is true, they're here already, and Y/N is probably in trouble."

Meanwhile, this wasn't supposed to happen, not again.

No one knew of this place, then who were these men?

You slowly slid your palm into your shrug, pulling out your loaded gun. You were pregnant, but you definitely weren't a damsel in distress, and if need arose, you were going to fight the HYDRA scum. Your mind was already working on the calculations; there were four of them, and maybe, there were more. They had a plus one on you, but yet, you had an edge. They couldn't hurt you, if what they really wanted was your child.

"Никто не должен умирать. Пожалуйста, пойдем с нами, и мы не причиним тебе вреда." One of them stepped towards you, and instinctively you stepped one step back, raising your gun in the air, until you were in a face off.

"Sorry, gentlemen, I don't do Russian, my mum did nag me to learn it, but unfortunately, I never did. Can we switch to good ol' English now?" You hissed, venom in your voice.

"Miss Y/N. Let's not do that, shall we? One squeeze of a trigger from either you or my men, it's going to be a disaster," the man spoke in thick Russian accent, and you rolled your eyes, trying to look through this man's mask. This was where you made a mistake. They had orders not to kill you, but not to not hurt you. You dropped your guard for one second when this man spoke, but just when this happened, the bullet from another man's gun hit you right on your palm and your gun dropped; clattering to the ground with a loud noise, leaving your palm in a stinging, burning pain, blood spurting out of the hole the bullet had made right in the center.

In that frozen second between the stand off you saw the man's eyes flick from you to your belly and a faint nod passed between him and his men, a sort of a signal. Your faces are unreadable, no fear, no invitational smirk, just plain hatred in your eyes, and passiveness in his. One of them suddenly lunged forward, when your reflexes kicked in, and you immediately ducked, this proving to be much more difficult now. You threw out your leg, kicking the man hard in his shins until he hit the floor hard with the blow, when another one lunged at you, trying to grab you.

Punches, kicks, hard blows.

You had lost to them once, and had been unable to protect your son, but this time, you were not planning on letting history repeat. You were going to fight, for your life, and you were going to protect this child, no matter what it took.

          ╞═════𖠁𐂃𖠁═════╡

The four men and one woman soared through the hallway at the back, their guns blazing as they ran towards the back entrance from where you had just left, minutes back. Gunshots rang out from all around them now, which meant that Fury was right; HYDRA was here and you were in danger. Bucky could feel his heart beat in his chest, pounding, banging, trying to get out. He kept running forward and ahead of the others, feeling as though his blood were on fire. His limbs were moving on their own. He was disconnected from everything but the ever present sound of his drumming heart as he kicked the back door with his foot, watching it fly off its hinges and land a distance away with a crash.

The first thing their eyes fell on were the black uniformed corpses that were spread out evenly on the floor; two with a bullet mark, and two who had a gruesome bite on the side of the neck and the other one probably having had snapped his neck. But within seconds, Natasha's eyes had spotted you in a corner, sitting against the floor, your head resting against the wall at the back, your bleeding hand pressed against your chest.

Your eyes were open, your mind was awake and alert, but the adrenaline of it all was too much. You felt liberated, and free, that finally, you had managed to something you had failed in. You had, for now, saved yourself. And it was all on you.

The rest of the Avengers crowded around you, Natasha kneeling next to you as she shook you gently, her voice soft against your ears, "Are you okay? You took them out yourself?"

"Yea, I'm peachy."

Your smirk reached your eye, and everyone, including Bucky, gave you a smile back; they were all relieved. You placed your palms on the floor, in an attempt to pull yourself back up when Bucky suddenly stepped forward, leaning over you.

Your eyes met his, the second his eyes were face level with yours. The blue in his eyes looked bluer than the ocean. Six months, and you had forgotten how beautiful this man was, how beautiful, yet how broken. You placed your arm around his neck, a mutual understanding passing between the two of you, and the minute he sensed that you were securely latched to his shoulder, his metal arm held you from your waist, pulling you up to your feet until you were back up.

"Buck, we should all get back. Before they come back in more force," Steve commented, breaking the moment between the two of you.

"Well, this was nice," you drawled, absentmindedly, your hand flying up to your frenzied hair as you started curling your index finger against one of the strands. "I should leave."

"The only place you're going now is the Avengers Towers," Bucky crossed his arms over his chest, looking down at you.

"Did I ask you? You don't have a say in this."

"Jesus, not the two of you again." Natasha sighed, in a frustrated way, running her hands through her hair as she walked off.

"Well, that's my kid in there. I won't take a no. Now, you can voluntarily choose to come with me, back where you should be or–" He took a step closer to you, his face bent slightly so he was glaring into your eyes, not with anger, but with a look of determination.

"Or, what?"

"I'll lift you up and carry you there myself."

Permanent Bucky Barnes Taglist :

@really-dont-forget-it

@thepeakygurl

@all-art-is-quite-useless

@baumarvel

@janajjj

@chipilerendi

@nyotamalfoy

@skittychat

@allidoiswritewritewrite

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[captaincravatthecapricious]

Reoccurring Nightmare- Prompt Fill

cw for exhaustion, anxiety, crying

Send me more prompts!  (Bingo by @celosiaa​) The ones with stars are the ones I already have prompts for, the crossed out ones are the ones I have posted! Send me a character, a prompt, and tell me if you want an art or a fic!!!!!! I am captaincravatthecapricious on tumblr!

There is a knocking in his ears.  At his door.  On his person.  On the inside of his skull.  The knocking in his chest.  His heart trying to get out of him.  Anxiety?  Mirroring the knocking on his door for two weeks.  Knocking that should have been Tim or Sasha or Jon.  

Every night the same.  Every night on a passible cot.  In this cramped little room.  Variations on the same theme.  The knocking in his head… in his memory shaking him for the same dream.  Leaving him bleary and only the slightest bit alive during the day.  Turning the past… month?  Into nothing but a sleep deprived blur.  Days having no meaning when nights don’t bring rest.  When there is no daylight, and few meals.  He isn’t hungry because all he can think about is that damp, decaying smell.  Of earth and compost and rot.  Gone past the restless hunger of exhaustion, and straight into the churning nausea of trying to stay conscious.  

His handwriting is worse than it ever has been.  Nodding off at his desk.  The notes he is taking turning into cryptic squiggles as the words blur before his eyes.  

He’s been trying to listen to Jon tell him something for the past 15 minutes, but he has no idea what.  His eyes keep sliding shut and his neck is getting sore from jerking as he tries not to fall asleep.  

“Martin?”  That would be Jon, right?  Yes.  Jon is right in front of him.  It would make sense if it were Jon.  Right?  Right?  Right?  Is he even at his desk?  Is he still backed against the wall at, in his flat?  Spare cloth shoved under every crack?  Duct tape and packing tape and linens and clothes?  Keeping them out?  But the knocking continuing?  Or is that his heartbeat?  

Jon is getting a little alarmed by Martin.  Martin had looked… rough when he burst into his office, weeks ago now.  But he isn’t looking better.  Jon watches Martin repeatedly fall asleep as Jon tries to express his growing… concern about Martin’s current state.  

Jon wrings his hands nervously for a few seconds before stopping himself.  He clenches his hands into fists by his sides to stop his fidgeting.  “Martin…. Are… are you all right?”  Stupid.  Stupid.  Stupid.  Of course he isn’t.  The man is falling asleep at his desk.  He isn’t alright.  

This jerks Martin awake again.  

“Fine  I’m fine!”  Martin’s voice has jumped an octave and breaks halfway through.  

Jon clears his throat.  He really hasn’t planned out what to do next.  What did he even think he could accomplish here?  He could get Martin to the cot, but as far as Jon knows, Martin has spent a lot of time there.  Jon has been keeping later and later hours since Martin got back, and has tried to keep an eye on Martin.  

He needs to do something.  

How did he not get suspicious?  

He should have checked in on Martin.  14 nights.  14 nights he spent sleeping or... trying to sleep... or to be fair about 10 nights sleeping, and 4 nights failing to and working instead... in any case he wasn't there!  He has to do something this time.  He failed last time.  He should have been a better boss.  He should have been less of a right ass.  

"Martin, I have to request that we continue this conversation once you have gotten some rest.  Please."

Well that probably wasn't helpful.  Especially because Martin looks slightly panicked now.  

"It's fine, Jon really.  I'm fine.  I'll just... I'll just get back to this..."  Martin glances down as if checking what he is actually supposed to be working on.  "Followup.  I'll have it for you in an hour, yeah?  I'll bring you tea?"  

Jon pulls a face.  This is not what he was getting at.  "Martin I want you to get some rest so you don't collapse, you can worry about that later so I don't have to redo everything because you aren't awake enough to do it properly."  Well... he got a sentence out, but it wasn't as... kind as he had hoped it would come out.  

Martin's face falls.  "right ...yeah.  Sorry."  Martin makes no move to get up.  

Jon is half afraid that he will just give up and sleep at his desk, which Jon can reliably report is not good for the spine.  And Jon does not have the means to lift Martin, nor does he want to break the touch barrier.  He doesn't know Martin well enough for that.  It had taken him months to get there with Tim.  Maybe Tim could carry Martin... but that is all the farther he get with that thought before Martin bursts into tears.  Which Jon honestly finds even more alarming.  

Jon prefers to do his crying far far away from prying eyes.  The idea of being comforted sounds both very nice and very uncomfortable and if anyone were to catch him crying at work, he would very much prefer they simply pretended nothing was going on. 

Right.  Martin.  

Jon nudges Martin's box of tissues a little closer and just... stands there, staring off just above Martin's head.  What else is he supposed to do?  He could bring him water, but that acknowledges that Martin is crying, which Martin might not appreciate?  Then again, Jon doesn't know what Martin likes.  Would it betray his trust to go and fetch Tim?  Or Sasha?  Or hell even Rosie would be better equipped to handle this.  Jon doesn't know shit about comforting people.  He is half convinced that that is part of the reason Georgie broke up with him.  

He turns on his heal and retrieves water and some biscuits for Martin.  It isn't tea, but Jon has no clue how Martin takes his tea and doesn't want to leave for too long.  Maybe he can shield Martin from the others if they actually come back from lunch on time.  Which ....Jon doubts.  

Martin is doing his best to dry his eyes with minimal success, when Jon returns.  Jon sets the water in front of him and nudges the biscuits in line with the water.  

Jon clears his throat.  "Would you like to be left alone or would you... like a hug?'  

Martin snorts at the clear awkwardness laced in the word "hug."  It's a damp sound.  "Not if you say it like that, Jon.  I'm fine.  I'll just... wash my face and get back to work."

"Martin, please I... you need to rest.  Not just for your work, that was supposed to be a... Martin I am actually worried about you.  Please go and get some rest."

Martin whines slightly and then flushes at the idea that he made such an embarrassing sound.  At least, Jon presumes that is why he flushes.  

He is clearly embarrassed enough to give it up and go to the cot because Martin gets up and heads in that direction.  Muttering a teary, "fine," as he leaves.  

Jon is jolted out of his work by screaming.  He follows it towards Martin's room, heart hammering loud enough to make him dizzy.  "Martin!"  He bursts in without knocking.  And Martin is...

curled up on the cot... looking even more tired and embarrassed.  

"Sorry," he mumbles, having come awake with his own scream, Jon presumes.  Or perhaps when Jon entered. "Nightmares.  I'm fine.  Go back to work.  Or better yet You take a nap."  

The last part was in a sharper tone then Jon is used to from Martin.  

"I'm fine," Jon echos.  Defensive.  He is.  Mostly.  True he's been pulling some ridiculous hours, but that is for Martin.  He needs to help.  He needs to try to understand what is happening.  "Martin, is there anything I can do?"

"No.  Jon.  It's fine.  Go back to work.  I'll have a lie down and then I'll get back to work."

"Would... would company help?  I... I could take a lie down on the floor?  And then you... wouldn't be alone?"

Silence falls heavily.  Jon is worried he has overstepped.  Wouldn't that be just like him?  Make Martin feel worse.  Just like he always does.  

Adrenaline from earlier getting recycled into guilt.  His hands are prickling with anxiety.  He tries to shake them out subtly.  

Martin is staring at Jon's feet.  Or rather at the floor next to them, and has gone a bit red.  

"Look, Jon, I don't want you to sleep on the floor."

"It's fine.  Better than my desk.  It will likely be the best sleep I've gotten in a while.  Think of it as a benefit to me.  ...I... I understand not sleeping well."  Jon also stares at the floor.  He distantly wonders if they are staring at the same spot.  An indirect staring contest.  Indirect like everything Jon does.  Everything just to the left of what he means.  He scuffs his foot on the floor.  

Martin scoots until he is pressed to the wall, and pointedly doesn't look at Jon as he pats the cot next to him.  

Holding himself stiffly, Jon toes off his shoes and folds his jacket, and stretch himself next to Martin on the too-narrow cot.  

Hardly five minutes later, they are both are in an uneasy sleep.  But it is an improvement.  

[jazminebrightxx]

LIKE MAGIC

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SHOW: Teen wolf

CHAPTER TWO: “we are family”

EPISODE: 3x02 “chaos rising”

Sleep is a precious thing, you need sleep, without it you make mistakes, you mess up. You get delirious and screw up. Kaitlin always loved sleep, everyone knew that, not to wake her when she was tired, but dogs...dogs don't understand that. That leads us to now, The last things Kaitlin remembered was watching an episode of some trashy show before falling asleep, and now, Levi, her two year old Labrador cried at her feet

Kaitlin opened her eyes, seeing the big dog sat at her door, his head tilted and whines coming from him "seriously" she whispered, he tilted his head to the other side "can you not just...leave me alone" he whined again, walking over to her and sniffing her face. Kaitlin cringed "okay, okay, you win"

She slowly threw the nice and warm covers off of her, her feet hitting the cold ground, sending shivers up her back, she sits there for a second, contemplating her life. She looks to her dog again, who's now panting in excitement, she groans, getting up and making her way down the stairs, before she can make her way down fully, Levi comes booting it past her and down the stairs, stopping at the door and sitting, Sighing she descends the remainder of stairs grabbing her keys and unlocking the front door and opening it

The big dog speeds out the door and Kaitlin laughs as he jumps around the fenced off garden, when Levi was a little pup, back in Boston, he'd find any and every way he could to escape their home, Kaitlin had many memories of running after the fast dog. So when they moved home, they made sure to get a well fenced garden.

The brunette watches Levi for a few more seconds before deciding to check the time, she moves to the kitchen, it was light out so it had to be early, she switched on the light, making things slightly more seeable, her glasses and contacts were upstairs so it was a little hard, she glanced at the clock 5:40.

It was literally 20 minutes before her alarm went off and an hour before kodins, might aswell make breakfast. She gathered her ingredients, deciding on bacon and toast for breakfast, turning on the hub and grabbing a pan. Midway through her cooking, a shiver sends down her spine, a familiar feeling in her stomach. She whirls around quickly, unsurprisingly seeing the dark figure lurk in the shadow of the kitchen, she was expecting him, but that didn't stop her heart from racing.

Tensely, she glares, turning back to her food, in an attempt to ignore the dark man. "Nice little place you've gotten yourself here" his voice is low, lower than before, Kaitlin stays quiet, focusing on her food.

"You can't ignore me forever Katie" he slowly walks into the kitchen more, quietly pulling out a chair and sitting. Kaitlin's teeth grit together at the name.

"I've done a pretty good job for what? Three years now?" She doesn't turn to look at him, her tone is sarcastic. He laughs, the sound scares Kaitlin slightly.

"That's not entirely true now is it, you aren't surprised at all to see me. You were expecting me" The redhead stops what she's doing, quickly whipping around and glaring her most cold glare

"What do you want" she gets to the point, the man faking a frown.

"What? I can't come and visit my daughter?" Kaitlin laughs turning back to her bacon and taking it off the pan and putting on a plate.

"You only ever visit me when you want something, so either tell me or get the hell out of my house" she grabs the toast, putting it on the plate and sitting opposite him.

"Ah you got me" He jokes, Kaitlin rolls her eyes, and butters her toast

"Scott McCall" is all he needs to say for Kaitlin to freeze, she slowly looks up to make eye contact with her father.

"What about him?"

"He's quite the hero I hear. People tell me he's the man to beat" his tone is evil, as usual. Kaitlin doesn't let her guard down. Her glare as cold as ice. "I've no idea what you're talking about"

"Does he know about you?" He takes an apple nonchalantly from the fruit bowl, the question silencing Kaitlin

"You know, your past, what you are?" He pushes leaning over the table slightly, Kaitlin doesn't break eye contact, her heart hammering in her chest

"What you've done"

"I haven't done anything" she defends, she stopped eating now, her fork and knife still in her hands

"Oh but you did, don't you remember? When Tyler died" Kaitlin slams her hands down on the table, the plate clattering against the knife and fork

"You weren't there, you don't know anything, now what do you want because your testing my patience" her hands are now in fists as she glares at her father.

"Be careful of this boy, he's made enemies, more than he knows, and they are dangerous" he warns. He stands from the table, putting the chair back in its place

"Why are you telling me this?" Her blood was boiling

"You’re my daughter, whether you or I like it or not we are family" He darkly says before a dark cloud forms over him and he vanishes

Kaitlin relaxes, her food now cold she tosses a slice of bacon to Levi and throws away her toast

"What a waste" she mutters before heading upstairs to get ready for school

***

A little while later and Kaitlin was sat on her couch, she usually got up early for school but never this early so she didn't really know what to do with herself. She watched the screen as an episode of greys anatomy played.

Her phone chimed with a text, Lydia Martins name lighting her screen, the strawberry blonde offering to give Kaitlin a ride to school, saying she needed to talk to her. The redhead sent a quick reply, moving off the couch and walking into the kitchen where her mother and brother sat at the table

"I'm not giving you a ride today, Lydia's picking me up" Kodin looked at his sister, taking a drink of his orange juice as he swallows his toast "I'm taking your car then"

"Why can't you take your own?" Kaitlin shoves her phone into her pocket, glaring slightly at her brother, who shrugs "well, yours is cleaner" Kaitlin stares at the boy, contemplating. She gives in, grabbing her keys and throwing them at Kodin.

"Don't damage my car" she warns before leaving the room, soon hearing the honk of Lydia's car, bidding a quick goodbye to her mother she grabs her bag and is out the door. She smiles at Lydia before hopping in the car "hey"

"Morning, what was so..." she's cut off when Lydia hands her a cup of coffee, Kaitlin smiles, thanking her and taking a sip, Lydia starts the car and pulls out of the driveway.

"I know you know" Lydia cryptically states, Kaitlin looking at her curiously "about what?" The redhead placed the coffee in the cup holder.

"About the supernatural, about Scott" Kaitlin freezes, her eyes going wide and glancing at Lydia

"What?" Kaitlin questions, trying to play it cool. "Huh, supernatural that...that's funny" panic sets in Kaitlin's mind, trying to force a fake laugh which Lydia doesn't buy.

"Yeah, okay lets just skip that...I could tell" Lydia glances between Kaitlin and the road "you wanna know how I know? Because you're supernatural too"

Kaitlin's lost for words, her eyes never leaving Lydia as the panic starts to fade, she's not afraid of her friends knowing, it's just how they find out. She wanted to soften the blow, it scared her really, she cared about them and she didn't want them feel any different about her. She lets put a sigh, looking ahead at the road.

"Witch, I'm a witch" the words fell nonchalantly out of her mouth, Lydia does a double take. "A witch? Huh, that's...new" Kaitlin laughs lightly.

"Yeah, I guess they're uncommon nowadays" Kaitlin went on to explain her knowledge of the pack and how she gained it, listing the things her uncle deaton has updated her on before she came back

She knew everything that he did, the kanima being Jackson, Peter Hale biting Scott and Lydia, Alison being a hunter and her grandfather being a psychopath. All of it

It surprised her really, Lydia was so calm about it, she didn't freak out, didn't get mad that Kaitlin hadn't told her. The aura that surrounded the girl was unfamiliar to Kaitlin. She'd learned how to read auras since she learned of her magic. Different colors for different species. Werewolves depended on the color of their eyes. Witches were purple. Humans were green. So on. But Lydia radiated a pink aura, one Kaitlin hadn't seen before.

"Oh yeah, have you any idea what this could be?" Lydia holds out her arm, keeping her eyes on the road

On her arm is a fresh bruise, there's an odd shape to it. Kaitlin gently takes Lydia's arm

"Uh, a bruise?" She glances at the strawberry blonde who playfully rolls her eyes

"Yeah no shit, Alison has one the exact same shape, she thinks it's like some sort of symbol" she states, her eyes never leaving the road

"Huh, can I take a picture of it?" Lydia nods and Kaitlin pulls out her phone, quickly snapping a photo of the bruise

"I'll run it by my mom" she states

"When are you gonna tell the guys about that?" Lydia starts, Kaitlin turns to look out the window of Lydia's car as they pull into beacon hills high schools parking lot

"I don't know, soon"

***

Lydia and Kaitlin strolled together before class, chatting quietly about Kaitlin's antics during her time in Boston. Football games, school dances,swim meets and everything in between. While Lydia went into more detail of the packs antics and stories.

"Okay, but what would a pack of alphas want with Erica and boyd?" Kaitlin questions lydia, who was explaining to her their recent predicament

"I don't know, maybe their recruiting" unbeknownst to the pair Scott and Stiles walks past them, Scott stops in his tracks staring at Kaitlin as she walks past, seeing something he didn't before

"Scott?" Stiles takes him out of his daze

"You okay?" Stiles eyes him curiously, glancing at Kaitlin. Scott nods his head still slightly dazed "Yeah, sorry"

***

Lydia, Alison and Kaitlin sat in the library, Alison drawing the symbol that was bruised in her skin on a piece of paper, a laptop sat on the table, some research the huntress had done lifting up the screen.

Lydia stares ahead, Two identical twins stood at a bookshelf with another brunette, the strawberry blonde had her eye on one of the twins. "I want one"

The two friends follow Lydia's gaze.

"Which one?" Alison questions, an adorable smiles across her lips, Lydia's face drops

"The straight one obviously" Alison glances back at the twins, Ethan looking at Danny wistfully, Lydia drinks from her coffee cup.

Kaitlin's chuckles as she glances at the boys, the brunette sticking out to her, she shakes the feeling off, glancing at Alison's computer, a thought comes to mind. She checks around before pulling a book out of her bag

The book was given to her by her mother, it was enchanted to only open to her, she flips through it finding the thing she was looking for

"What if it's not a symbol?" She questions Alison, who turns her gaze to the brunette and the book in her hands

"What if it's actually a logo?" Alison eyes the book questionably, noticing a few of Kaitlin's spells

"Wait, is that?" Kaitlin smiles at the brunette "what are you?"

"Libra" Kaitlin looks up to digest her theory to Lydia but she's vanished

Kaitlin's and Alison turn to the twins only to see Lydia making a move on Aiden. The two girls look to each other, Kaitlin bursts laughing, Alison joining after a second.

***

Kaitlin Jones was originally from beacon hills, she grew up in the small town. Her family and friends were there, it was her home. A place she'd never forget for as long as she'd live, no matter where she'd end up.

One place and person she hadn't gotten the chance to visit since she'd been back was her uncle Deaton at the animal clinic. Deaton was the brother of her mother, it didn't seem like it, of course because her mother was adopted into Alan's family, his mother was a friend of Natalie's biological mother who passed when she was young.

So when deaton called her to ask if she could come to the clinic because he needed her help with Isaac, Kaitlin jumps into her car and makes her way to the clinic

Her stomach turned and twisted in knots, nerves filled her. She knew what she was walking into, Scott and Stiles would definitely be there, and she knew what Deaton needed her to do, it would be outing her powers to them. She had texted Kodin, giving him the heads up and warning him to talk to the boys later today, knowing they'd want answers from both twins.

Obviously she would have to have this conversation with the two boys sooner or later but she was nervous for their reactions. What if they hated her for not telling them? She knew she was over reacting but she couldn't help it.

Shaking off her anxiety she pulls into the parking lot of the animal clinic and stops the car. She takes a second to herself before jumping out of the car and heading into the clinic

Inside the animal clinic, Deaton, Derek, Scott and Stiles attempted to prep Isaac for the ice bath he'd soon be submerged in.

"How slow does his heart rate need to be?" Scott worryingly questions.

"Very slow"

"Okay, well, How slow is very slow?" Derek crouches beside the tub which was now filled to the brim with water and ice

"Nearly dead" deaton nonchalantly replies, issac touches the water, immediately retracting his hand, hissing

"It's safe though, right?" He nervously questions. Deaton hesitates, just as he's about to reply the bell from the door chimes, the veterinarian smiles

"Not necessarily, but that's why she's here" he leaves the room. The three werewolves and Stiles look to each other curiously.

When Kaitlin Jones walks into the room, Scott and Stiles stare at the girl in shock, Derek and Isaac grow confused, not knowing the girl. When she sees the four her smiles fades, a shy expression takes over her face

"Hey"

"So she's gonna help with what exactly?" Issac questions as he eyes the small girl

"Kaitlin was born from a long line of witches" Kaitlin looks to her shoes, not wanting to see her friends reactions

"Oh wow" Stiles mumbles, he looks to Kaitlin sadly, she looks up meeting his eyes but quickly looks away

Scott is left speechless, his gaze flickering back and forth between Kaitlin and Deaton, Kaitlin steps forward gently grabbing Scott wrist and tugging him away from the rest

"I promise after this is done I will explain everything, okay?" His eyes soften and he grabs the girls hand, nodding and giving it a light squeeze

"Okay"

Kaitlin smiles, moving back to stand beside the tub of ice, she gives issac a reassuring smile, he returns the gesture. She remembered Isaac vaguely from her childhood, she hadn't talked to him much, but she knew of him.

"If anything goes wrong, Kaitlin will be here to pull you out" Deaton reassures him. A rubber snapping sound is heard, all heads turn to Stiles who's wearing a grin as he looks at his arm length glove with a grin

The boy in plaid notices everyone looking at him "what?" Derek gives him a glare, Stiles sighing before he takes off the glove, Issac sighs before standing up

"Look, if it feels to risky, you don't have to do this." The alpha assures, straightening his arms on the rim of the tub, Scott nods in agreement

Issac looks to Kaitlin, who stood on the other side of the tub "you know what your doing?"

Kaitlin's smirks "you'll be fine, Issac, I've been doing it for years" Issac looks to the girl with weary eyes before taking off his shirt and exhaling. He steps into the tub, the group watching him closely, as he attempts to sit in the cold bathtub.

Scott and Derek glance at each other, placing their hands on Isaac's shoulders and pushing him under the water

For a few moments it was fine, but after not to long Issacs true form broke free, jolting up from the water, his eyes a bright yellow and his fangs beard.

"Get him back under" deaton instructed, Stiles was now attempting to keep the werewolf submerged.

But Isaac didn't want to co-operate, he trashed in the water, the two werewolves struggled to keep him in the water as he drenched them.

"Hold him" Kaitlin interjected, Rowling up the sleeves of her jumper

"Don't you think we're trying!" Derek snapped. Kaitlin rolls her eyes before she moves forward, slightly pushing Scott and Derek out of the way, there hands still holding Isaac

The brunette hovers her hand over issacs head, calming him. Not moments later he relaxed and slowly moved to the surface of the water with his eyes open.

"Remember, only Kaitlin talks, too many voices will confuse him and draw him out" deaton holds up a finger, his voice soft. After the three boys nod, he gestures for Kaitlin to start

"Issac? Can you hear me?" Her voice is kind and soft

"Yes, I can hear you" the beta replies after a moment of silence

"It's Kaitlin, I don't know if you remember me, but is it okay if I ask you a few questions?"  Kaitlin continued, she was calm, like she'd done it before.

"Yes"

Kaitlin glances at deaton, the thunder outside getting worse "I want to ask you about the night you found Erica and Boyd "

"I want you to remember it for me in as vivid detail as possible, like your actually there" she tried her best to keep a steady voice, knowing one wrong word could send the beta into a panic

"I-I don't wanna do that" He was getting scared now, repeating "I don't wanna go that"

"Issac it's all right just relax" Kaitlin glances at Scott, his eyes are on her and he's worried "they're just memories, you can't be hurt by a memories, remember I told you you'll be fine"

"I don't wanna do that"

"Your okay"

"I don't wanna do that"

"Relax" Kaitlin moves her hand around Isaac's, calming him

"Great" Stiles keeps his eyes on the brunette, occasionally glancing at Isaac wearily, Derek takes a glance at Kaitlin, skepticism in his eyes

"Okay, lets go back to that night, to the place you found Erica and Boyd" Kaitlin's head starts to pound, she blinks in an attempt to rush the pain away, continuing her talk with Isaac.

"Can you tell me what you see? Is there some sort of building? A house?"

"It's not a house. It's stone" Isaac's voice is deep and has a cold edge to it, he takes a breath

"I think marble" Kaitlin smiles at the cold boy "that's perfect"

"Can you give me any other descriptors?" She questions, trying not to push him to hard

"It's dusty, so empty" he slowly explains

"Like an abandoned building?"

The lights begin to flicker, Kaitlin's headache worsening, the four men in the room glancing around them and then to Kaitlin

"Issac" Kaitlin's voice is forced and strained, Scott looking at her with worrying eyes

"Someone's here" Issac moves around slightly in the water, he reaches his hand out and grabs Scott's forearm

"Issac, it's okay, relax" Kaitlin tries to reassure the beta

"No, no, no, no. They see me, they see me" Issac screams, thrashing around in the water. Scott and Derek attempt at keeping Issac in the tub of water, him screaming. Stiles looks to Kaitlin, seeing the pain in her eyes

"There just memories, you can't be hurt by memories. Just relax" she reassures him, he keeps a firm grip on Scott's arm as he relaxes

"Good, that's great issac" Kaitlin's headache eases, but she shuts her eyes in pain, Stiles grabs her free wrist gently

She looks at him, he gives her a worried look. She forcefully smiles at him reassuringly

"Now, Isaac can you tell us what you see? Tell us everything" Isaac opens his eyes, his natural blue taking over. "I hear him"

"He's talking about the full moon, about being out of control when the moon rises"

"Is he talking to Erica?" Kaitlins headache is faint now.

"I think so, I can't...I can't see her. I can't see either of them" his lips trembled from the cold "Can you hear anything else?"

Issac has stopped resisting, but the lights flickered. Kaitlin's headache slightly returning

"They're worried, worried what they'll do during the moon, what they're gonna do to each other" The thunder rubbles from outside, Kaitlin's head feels like someone drilling into it now, the tension of the calming spell getting to her head.

"If they're locked in together on the full moon, they're gonna tear each other apart." Derek whispers to Scott who nods in agreement

"Isaac, we need to find them right now" Kaitlin restarts "can you see them?"

"No"

"Do you know what kind of room it is? Is there any kind of a marker? A number on a door?"

The beta jumps from the tub, sitting upright, Kaitlin's headache worsens, the lights flickering

"They're here" Isaac whispers, Stiles looks around the room confused and a tad bit scared

"They're here, They're here"  he slowly moves lower into the tub, he starts to panic "No They're here"

"They see me. They found me. They're here!" Kaitlins head is throbbing, she moves her hand to her forehead, rubbing it roughly

"This isn't working, Isaac, where are you?" Derek intervenes, yelling at his beta.

Everyone looks to Derek, Deaton beginning to argue with him, Kaitlin's vision goes blurry

"Tell me where you are!"

"I can't see!"

"You're going to confuse him" deaton calmly states "tell me where you are"

"He could go into shock Derek" Kaitlin painfully states to the werewolf

"Derek let him go!"

"Isaac where are you what did you see!" Derek ignores Scott's protests, yelling at Isaac more

"It's a vault, it's a bank vault!"

One last clap of thunder is heard, Kaitlin gets light headed, falling backward as Issac jumps forward from the tub. Stiles moves to catch Kaitlin, the brunette coming in and out of consciousness  

"I saw it, I saw the name" he moves to jump out of the tub, Scott takes his eyes off Kaitlin when Stiles reassures him and moves to help Isaac

"It's uh, beacon hills first national bank" he shivers as he's wrapped in a towel

Stiles lowers Kaitlin to the ground, gently holding her head beside him, she Sobers up a bit, looking at the boy drowsily

The others in the room watch Isaac as he explain the bank that Boyd and Erica were being held

"What?"

"You don't remember what you said do you?" Scott questions him "no"

Isaac looks at the pair that sat in the ground

"You said when they captured you that they dragged you into a room and that there was a body in it." Stiles explains to Isaac, keeping a firm grip on Kaitlin

"What body?"Isaac looks around curiously

"Erica" Kaitlin drowsily buts in, slowly moving her head to look at him

"You said it was Erica"

*****

[words-for-holland]

Happier (5) | T.H.

Summary: Harry and Harrison made it to New York without witnesses. One secret is revealed and a relationship could be broken up for good. What will the future hold for Y/N and Tom?

A/N: Everybody buckle up and grab your tissues, we’re in for a bumpy ride. Lemme know how you feel after this! Was it what you expected??

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8

Guilt

It’s one thing to keep a secrets, but it’s another thing when you’re hiding it from the people you love. For Kate, she was becoming consumed in her own guilt as each day passed. Everyday her breaths would shorten, her heartbeat quicken, and her conscience relentlessy invading her inner thoughts. Kate tried to find all the possibilities to avoid the truth, and make everyone happy...but it didnt matter. One way or another, someone was going to get hurt.

Kate stood in front of Harrison and Harry at her doorstep. While she was relieved and excited to see them, a slight tinge of fear was present. “How are you going to find out the truth?” She asks calmly as Harrison and Harry made their way into the apartment. Kate picked up her phone, checking for an message. None showed up.

“Well, we might have found something. A clue maybe, but we’re not sure.” Harry explained as he picked up his macbook, turning it on.

“Is Y/N here?” Harrison asked, and as if on cue she appeared, heavy bags under her eyes.

The moment Y/N laid eyes on the two, she couldn’t believe it. Her hands quickly rubbing the sleep from her eyes, almost convinced it was a dream. “What? Harry? Harrison? What are you guys doing here?” Y/N excitedly asks. She made her way towards the boys giving them a long awaited hug. “I missed you guys.” She whispers.

“We want to help you.” Harrison says as he pulled away. “The unknown number? We might have an idea.”

Y/N looked at them suspiciously, checking her phone for cryptic messages. “Does anyone know you’re here?”

They both shook their head. “We didn’t tell anyone back home. As far as anyone knows, Harrison and I are going on a 3 day hike with little reception.” Harry reassured her with his boyish smile. Y/N look at him with admiration. He may not look like his brother, but his tone had Tom written all over it.

“Great. Just make sure your location is off on your phones..they could be watching us.” Kate warned as she checked her phone again.

Harrison looked at Kate with sympathy. In the years he’s known her because of Y/N and Tom’s relationship, she always seemed to be the sweetest most loyal friend out there. He was happy that Y/N had someone like Kate in her life. Not to mention it was also a plus that she was fairly pretty, even with the worry written all over face, she was still beautiful to Harrison.

“Hey.” Harrison spoke out for Kate’s attention. “We’re gonna figure this out. I promise.” While Kate nodded, she silently knew that this was not going to end well.”

“Wait...so Tom? Is he—?” Y/N asks the boys with anticipation.

Harrison knowing, exactly what Y/N was asking before she could even finished answered swiftly. “No! Of course not!” He laughs as if it was the silliest thing to answer. “Y/N, Tom loves you. He still does.”

“But the pictures..”

“Was a PR stunt set by Natalie’s publicists.” Harrison finished. “He’s doing a project that Natalie somehow got involved in, and they wanted a PR relationship to sell it. He didn’t want to at first, but then they showed him pictures of you and some div.”

“Hey he’s not some div! Matt’s a good guy.” Y/N defends. “Sweet actually, but I turned him down at the end of it. We’re just friends.”

Then it clicked. “Wait. You said that Tom saw the pictures?” Y/N asked trying to piece it together. “How did he get pictures?”

Harry and Harrison took a moment to think it through. “Well...Natalie’s publicist showed it to Tom.” Harry answered.

“But we don’t know where she got the pictures from.” Harrison added. “My money was on Natalie...still is.”

“Cmon mate. There’s no way she could have gotten pictures in New York and suddenly fly back to London.”

Kate slowly made her way to her own room, no longer wanting to be part of the conversation. They were getting too suspicious, and the more they questioned, the more nervous she got.

“Well maybe the unknown number sent it.” Harry said as he continued to be deep in his thoughts. “Or they found out on that fan account you found Harrison.”

“Wait? Fan account? They know?!” Y/N freaked out. Three years into making sure she was kept in the shadows, and it went all down the drain. If it there were fan accounts then it would only make it harder to finding out who really did sabotage her relationship. Let alone everyone’s lives.

“We don’t know yet, but Harrison found a fan account that was posting about Tom and you. Not together at least, but seperately. The weird part is...barely few people follow it, so we’re not sure what it means.” Harry explained, as he tried to pull up the account. “Oh no.”

“What? What do you mean ‘Oh no’?” Harrison panicked.

“I cant find the account.” Harrison said as he tried to pull it up, but the page disappeared.

In the nick of time, a message was sent to all three of them.

Unknown

Looks like you’re back to square 1 ❤️

“Shit! How did they know?” Harrison questioned in anger. “We were this close!”

“It’s okay Harrison. I appreciate that you guys tried, but it’s a lost cause.” Y/N consoled him, rubbing his shoulder.

“It won’t be. We’ll find another way.” Harry encouraged as he hugged them both. “By the way, where’s Kate gone?”

All three looked up to notice she was missing. Y/N waved it off, assuming it was just one of those days. “She probably went to bed early. Kate gets tired easily, nowadays. It might be because of her new job on top of watching out for me. Its a lot to take on for a person.”

The reasoning seemed valid enough Harrison and Harry. Plus it was Kate they were talking about, she always had Y/N’s back from day one, she wouldnt blackmail any of them or ruin Y/N and Tom’s relationship..right?

Late in the night, Harrison had trouble sleeping because of the jetlag. Since it only was a medicore 2 bedroom apartment, Harrison and Harry slept in the living room on the sofa bed. Luckily it was big enough for the both them and they didnt have to resort to cuddling. Harrison lied on his back as he looked out to the NYC view, thinking about everything and nothing at all. He smiled, thinking about it all. For a very serious couple, a lot of shit has gone down and yet here he was with trying to save it. He cared about the two so deeply, they were his family and family never turns their back on the other.

Then he heard something, whispers coming from the hall. Harrison didn’t dare to make a move but he trained his ears to listen carefully at the voice.

“Im telling you they are getting suspicious.” The voice whispered into the phone. It sounded like Kate’s and Harrison continued to listen in.

“No.No. I sent the damn pictures to you for a reason. No one told me that they would come here. I wasn’t prepared for that.” Kate continues as she paces in the corner.

Pictures? Harrison was awake more than ever, as he quickly shook Harry, and told him to stay quiet. They continued to listen.

“Look I did everything I was told to do. She got what she wanted, now —” Kate stopped in her tracks as she saw Harry and Harrison in front of her. Immediately she dropped the call, her lips moving, unable to find the words.

“How could you?” Harry said his brown eyes glaring at at the girl who just betrayed her best friend. “She was your best friend! How could you?!” He spoke louder.

Kate tried her best to quiet them down, but there was the point. She knew this day would come. “You don’t understand.” Kate whispers, looking at the ground. “I was only doing this to protect Y/N.”

“Protect Y/N? Blackmailing her? Sending pictures of her and a guy to Tom, so he would turn against her? That’s protecting her?” Harrison questioned, hurt by her actions. If he was hurt, then surely It would hurt Y/N far worse.

Y/N comes out of her room as she sees the three gather together, glaring at each other. “Hey..w-what’s going in?” She asks nervously.

“Why don’t you tell her Kate?” Harry spits out as he gestures to Y/N. Kate looks into her best friend’s eyes tears welling up. Y/N had fear struck into her face, afraid of what she had to say.

“I’m so sorry.” She cries. “I didn’t have a choice. She would have ruined our friendship if I did.”

“Kate. What.Did.You.Do?” Y/N asks, emphasizing each word to the question.

Kate shook her head as she let out a deep sigh. “Im the reason your pictured with Matt got out Tom.”

Y/N shook her head, tears streaming. She didn’t want to believe it. “Please tell me you’re lying.”

“Im sorry Y/N. I swear I didnt mean for this to get out of hand. I was threatened that if I didn share them, then they would say something that could ruin our friendship..and...I didnt want that to happen.” Kate frantically explains, sobbing at her no good explanation.

Y/N shook her head, her face switching from sadness to anger. “Looks like you didn’t need them to ruin it at all for you. Now you’re gonna tell me what you know and then Im packing my stuff and Im moving out.”

Kate sobbed as she try to plead to her ex-bestfriend to stay. “Look I’ll tell you everything okay, but it’s not much.” She takes a deep breath before she continues. “I was the one that started the rumors and created the fan account Harry and Harrison saw.”

“Why?” Y/N asks, her disappointed face unchanging.

“I was jealous of you at the time. Y/N you had everything I could have ever wanted in my life. A job, a boyfriend that doesn’t leave you, a family that loves you, and the fame which you didn’t even want to accept with open arms. You were always a step ahead of me at something and I was tired of it. So when you told me you felt uneasy about Natalie when she first moved in, I sold that info online and twisted the story so that it looked like Tom liked Natalie and they were a potential couple.”

“Oh my god.” Harrison said as he let his head down. “You made Natalie think that Tom was in love with her secretly thats why she had become so persistant.”

Kate slowly nodded as she took another breath. “As for the fan accounts I can’t tell you much because I was just asked to create them by the Unknown number.”

“Wait so you’re not the unknown number?” Harry asked confused.

Kate shook her head. “I don’t who it is. Im just a vicitim as much as you guys are.”

“No cut that bullshit. It’s because of you that all of our lives are a mess. It’s because of you that I had to lose the most important thing in my life. So don’t say you’re a fucking victim when all you really did was try to save your own ass.” Y/N yelled.

“You didn’t have to if you were so confident in your relationship with Tom.” She spat back.

“I love Tom with all my heart, but I was referring my best friend. I never want to see you again.” Y/N states, emotionless. No one had ever seen Y/N like this. In fact no one had ever seen her mad as she was on this very day. The day she lost her best friend.

Y/N went to her room to quickly gather her belongings, stuffing them back in the bag. Her phone was ringing and she didnt hesitate to pick it up.

“Tom...” she answers, holding back her sobs.

Taglist:

@hollanddolanfangirl​ @ifilosemyselfagain @hevjadams @averyfosterthoughts​ @fangirl-with-a-mission @drishtisikarwar @eridanuswave​ @ifntelyinspirit​ @trumpettay @astridcommings @parkershoco @racewife2004 @sleepybesson

[amlovelies]

a discovery

chapter 14 of Just Another Liability

pairing: mason/f!oc (Serena Willis)

warnings: some angst and cursing. mention of childhood neglect/abandonment issues

words: 3k (I know! this is the longest installment I’ve written by far) 

read on ao3

             I wasn’t given a choice in the matter. Agent Greene needed me to meet her at the Warehouse, and by the tone of her voice I knew better than to argue. I could refuse to go, but part of me is nervous. I can’t think what would be so important.

               The drive back to Wayhaven is stressful. It’s my first time returning, and I don’t know the roads very well. At least it gives me something to focus on. Something besides the gnawing worry about seeing Mason. It took me too long to decide what to wear and I’m sure Agent Greene will be pissed when I show up. I probably shouldn’t have taken the time to apply a little eyeliner and mascara, but I had to.

               I need some sort of armor.

               I waste even more time at the front door. Everything looks the same. It’s strange to think it’s been almost a month since I was here last.

               They’re probably all in the living room; I move through the labyrinthian hallway on autopilot trying to focus more on what could be so important to have me come out here rather than seeing Mason. I mean really, I need to get it together and get my priorities straight.

               Besides I should be used to people not loving me. My mom made it clear how much I ruined her life. My dad didn’t even care that I was born. On the scale of things, my fuck buddy not catching feels isn’t that big a deal.

               Except it feels like a huge fucking deal when I turn the corner and find him walking towards me.

               “Shit.” I feel my heart drop to my stomach. I think this is the first time we’ve been alone together since that night. I feel his eyes sweep over me and I’m glad I took the extra time to get ready.

               “Took you long enough, swe—” he stumbles over the word. We both know what he was going to say. “Everyone’s waiting on you.”

               “Yeah, well it’s not like I was given much of a heads up. Just a cryptic fucking call. I do have my own life you know.” That’s not exactly true. I worked a few days a week at an agency dispensary for supernaturals in the area, and while I was on friendly terms with the coworkers there, I didn’t have any social life to speak off. The most exciting thing on my calendar would be my bi-weekly visits to the facility to use their training room.

               He shrugs, “that’s the agency for you.”

               “Let’s just get this over with,” I won’t let myself meet his eyes as I move to walk past him.

               He falls into step alongside me. Once or twice our arms brush, and I my skin itches with the proximity. I don’t know if he’s trying to put me at ease, to show me that everything can be normal, but it’s having the opposite effect. Which he probably knows because of his stupid vampire super senses. With any luck he’ll think I’m just nervous about his meeting. Sure, let’s go with that.  

               I enter the room first, and walk towards what used to be my usual chair.

               “How nice of you to make sure Serena didn’t get lost in her old home,” Farah quips and I hear a low growl from Mason in response.

               Please don’t let her be like that through this whole meeting.

               Everyone is in their familiar places spread out across the room, but there’s a tension in the room I don’t recognize. It’s then that I notice the vaguely familiar looking man standing off to the side. He looks uncomfortable, always shifting his weight from side to side.

                “So, what’s so important that I needed to come down here,” I ask as I settle into the chair. Out of the corner of my eye I can see where Mason has perched himself against one of the side tables. I’m torn between my desire to ignore him, to put a brave face on it, and my need to drink in the sight of him. To memorize the placement of every freckle on his face for my lonely days back in the city, but I won’t do that because that would be pathetic.

               Dinah speaks first, “it’s my fault, Serena. I told Agent Greene we couldn’t continue without you here. This concerns you too.”

               “As you know we took samples and did extensive testing when you first arrived here,” Agent Greene interjects and I stiffen in anticipation for what will come next. Is there something wrong with me?

               “Well, that’s ominous. What do I have cancer or something?”

               “No, no I can assure you that you are in perfect health,” the man speaks up. “You may not remember me, but I assisted with some of the testing when you first arrived at the facility.

               “Dr. Franks also did extensive testing on me,” Dinah says from where she is seated next to Nate. She’s on the edge of her seat. Elbows resting on her knees and staring at me so intently I almost wonder if I have something on my face.

               “I thank you both for your cooperation,” the man says before turning to face me. “It’s specially exciting to get to meet the first arrival from a new portal.”

               A scoff from Dinah interrupts him and I see Agent Greene stiffen.

               “Okay so I’m not about to drop dead, good to know, but that still doesn’t explain what’s going on.”

               “Dr. Franks, noticed a pattern between yourself and Detective Greene.” I raise my eyebrow to hear her address her daughter so formally. “As of yet, no one outside of this room has been informed. We already know there are moles within the agency, and for her safety I would like to keep it that way.

               “Right, it’s my safety your worried about,” Agent Greene pretends not to hear the outburst from Dinah.

               “I was hesitant to include you, given your current status.”

               “But Dinah insisted.” I finish the thought.

               “Yes,” Agent Greene says as she clasps her hands in front of her and if I didn’t know any better, I would say they shaking. the look she gives me is not a kind one. I’ve never found myself comfortable with Agent Greene, but the effect is worse than usual today.

               “So, what do I have crazy super blood as well?”

               “No. Your blood doesn’t appear to have any amplifying effect.” Dr. Franks answers.

               “Then what the fuck is it?”

               “They think we’re related.” Dinah’s voice is soft and it takes me a second to process the words. “We are about a 25% match; it would be consistent with half siblings.”

               “Okay, sure, and I’m also long-lost royalty.” I say with a roll of my eyes, but no one laughs. If anything, the tension in the room amplifies. Half siblings. One parent in common. God knows it isn’t my bitch of a mother, Dinah has her own one of those.

               “This has to be some sort of mistake. I know who my father is. There’s no way. I’m not ever from this world.”

               “Apparently you weren’t the first to come through that portal,” Dinah says her voice like ice and her eyes never leaving Rebecca.

               Rebecca won’t meet her gaze. Dinah shakes her head and shakes off the reassuring hand Nate tries to place on her arm, “and I thought we were done with secrets.” She says with a bitter laugh.

               “So, what, your dad was actually from my world? But I thought the agency didn’t have any records of other portals?” I ask trying to get all the pieces to fit together in my head. It feels like too much.

               “Yes. You are the first person that the agency knows of,” Rebecca says her eyes sliding over to where Dr. Franks stands, “we are all shocked to learn about it. My late husband didn’t talk a lot about his past, and I respected his wish for privacy.”

               I don’t believe her for a second. She knew. She knew all this time that I wasn’t the first. I run my hands over my face and try to wrap my head around it all. It’s bad enough trying to consider the fact that there might be other trapped here like me. I don’t know if I can even begin to grabble with the dad stuff. It’s not much of a loss discovering my father is not actually my father. He decided he didn’t want a daughter anymore when I was about four and I hadn’t seen or heard from him.

               I remember seeing photos of Dinah’s dad in her office. He had an open face, always smiling holding her tight. Not just Dinah’s dad that could have been my dad.

               “I will need to do further testing, but I believe that Detective’s Greene’s mutation may be caused by her unique heritage. If that is the case, there is a good chance that any children you might have would exhibit that same mutation.”

               “Any what now?” I ask surprised.

               “I would have to do further testing, but there’s a good chance that this is the source of the mutation. We couldn’t understand it before because we believed that Detective Greene had human parentage, but now knowing it is more complicated opens up other avenues of possibilities.”

               He’s talking more to himself than us at this point and I tune it out. I run my hands over my face and try and keep above the swirling maelstrom that my thoughts have turned into. Knowing he wasn’t my father isn’t much of a loss. He stopped being a dad to me when I was four, but what did that leave me? Just the mistaken product of a one-night stand? I always knew I wasn’t planned, wasn’t wanted, the only reason for my mom’s first marriage. Was that why they got divorced, did he figure out he wasn’t my father? Maybe I really did ruin her life. It’s getting harder to breath and I think I might throw up.

               A banging sound brings me back to the present and I look up to see Mason half way between the side table and my chair. Our eyes meet for a moment and against all reason I feel a little calmer. I lose myself a little in his grey depths and my racing thoughts begin to settle. There will be time to deal with my feelings about this. I say deal as if I won’t just bury it down like I do with everything else. What matters right now is what this means for us now.

               “Okay, so say this is really true, what does it change?”  I ask looking around the room.

               Adam speaks up from the window, “I don’t think you should return to your apartment. I think for the time being you should return to the warehouse.”

               I tense up at the thought, “I don’t really think that’s necessary. It’s not like my blood is super powered.”

               “Perhaps not, but supernaturals have long lives. They may be willing to wait a generation to have access to the boost the mutation supplies.” Adam says with a grimace.

               “Fine.” I concede and the tension in the room eases up a bit. “I’ll need a change of clothes and my stuff though.”

               Adam nods, “make us a list and we will go grab them for you.”

               “I will accompany Dr. Franks back to the facility and see if there is anything else, we missed in the test.” Agent Greene says signaling the end of the meeting.

               Farah nearly knocks me over in her excitement to hug me. “You must be so excited! I told you Unit Bravo was a family, and now look it really is.”

               I try and match her excitement. I really do, but it’s not easy.

               Now that Agent Greene has left, Dinah is closer to her usual warm self. She hugs me for a long time, talking about how she always wanted a sister, that she had already thought of me as almost a sister.

               It’s overwhelming. I think I say the right things. I think I look like I’m fine.

               Dinah begins to tell me everything she can remember about her father, our father. How he was such a great dad, how much he cared, how much she misses him, how much she wished she had been able to know he better.

               I feel like I can’t breathe. How different would my life had been if he never fell through the portal? What I wouldn’t have given to have a father like him, to feel loved and cherished even all these years later. What I wouldn’t give to remember a parent with love rather than bitterness, to have just one person in my life who looked out for me. But I didn’t get that. He fell through a hole in the world and Dinah got that instead. I feel so bitter I think I might chock on it.

               I lie and say I need to go to the bathroom.

               I don’t have a plan besides getting away from all the attention. I let me feet guide me and end up at the training room. Hitting something matches my mood exactly.

               I fall into a rhythm. The sound of my fists hitting the dummy echoing in the empty space of the training room.

               How did I ever get by without this before? Maybe my life wouldn’t have been so messy if I’d just let myself hit things.

               I don’t notice him at first. Not until I stop to grab some water and I see him leaning against the door frame. If I wasn’t already winded from my excursions the intensity of his gaze would probably take my breath away.

               I let myself look at him really look at him. Is it possible that I forgot how beautiful he is? I thought I could recall him well, the way the light catches in his eyes, the delicate spray of freckles across his golden skin, but my memories pale in comparison to the reality.  

               “Mason,” I say with a nod raising the water bottle to my lips.

               He pushes off the wall and I watch his movements with rapt attention. He turns to face me in the center of the training mats before tying his hair back and sinking into a familiar position.

               It’s an invitation.

               Sparring with Mason isn’t a graceful dance. It is brutal, and it suits my mood just fine. Oh, sure he’s pulling his punches back, but even then, it still stings when he lands a hit. It still takes me a moment to recover when I land flat on my ass.

               I manage to land a few hits, and I don’t know if it’s a testament to my skill improving, or if he’s letting me, but I don’t care. It’s still satisfying. It’s still distracting. It’s still what I need.

               The next time he knocks me down I stay on the ground. I’m too tired to keep going, and the tangled knot of emotions in my chest feels less overwhelming.

               “Better?” Mason asks.

               “Yes, thank you.” I mean it. After all my stupidity, he should be the last person I want to be around, but I don’t know if I could stand being around anyone else right now. Between Farah and her excitement and questions, and Nate’s whole idolization of family ties, I’d felt like screaming.

               “Dinah seems happy.”

               “Yeah,” I say as I rise to a sitting position.

               “but you’re not.”

               I pull my legs in close and rest my head on my knees, “I’m too many things right now.”

               If this was a few months ago, this would be the part where he offers to distract me. This is where he would say something crass like he’d be happy to make me cum too many times. But he can’t say that now, so he just shifts his weight from side to side looking uncomfortable.

               “Thank you for the sparring, it helped, but you don’t need to do this.” I say with a sigh.

               “Do what?”

               “Stick around, check on me. I’ll be fine. I’m always fine.” Except my voice cracks a little on that last syllable. Once I start crying it hits hard. I can’t even figure out what exactly I’m crying about, there’s just this needy little part of me that’s angry and sad and normally I can keep her under control, but today was too much. Today was too many memories and reminders.

               I don’t expect the tentative touch to my back, the weight of his hand, the quiet reassurance that he is there. I don’t know why he is here, or what it means, but right now I don’t care. I just want. I lean against him and let his arms wrap around me.

               We stay that way for several minutes, until my tears slow down, until I feel calmer. When he pulls away, he does so quickly. All too soon he is standing several feet away.

               “I’m sorry about that.”

               “Don’t be. Will you be okay?”

               “I’ll be fine, don’t worry about me.” I say with a wave of my hand.

               His brow furrows before he answers, “I do though.”

               Oh, my traitorous heart thrills at that. How little does that fool need to threaten to come bursting out of my chest and follow him as he walks towards the door.

tag list for the au (let me know if you would like to be added or removed): @lord-king-saint, @lilyoffandoms, @tracing-freckled-constellations, @vienocalledmebuddy, @freckles-spangledvampire, @utterlyinevitable, @whippedforethanfreakingramsey

[raleighcarrera]

catch up

platinum | raleigh carrera x mc (cadence dorian)

it’s been eight months since the breakup. they have a lot to catch up on.

~6k words, M (18+ only)

songs mentioned are gorgeous | no more sad songs | touch (acoustic)

he’d been wondering who would get around to dropping their album first. from the looks of the current trending topics on twitter, cadence had won. it looked like she’d even chosen to jack his style -- dropping her album in full with no announcement, no promotion, no warning... nothing.

color him impressed.

no more sad songs was number one on trending. just below it was the word touch. related topics: cadence dorian, raleigh carrera. 

he told himself it was just his own narcissism that made him click. that, and morbid curiosity. it’d been so long since he’d last tortured himself, after all. 

a long list of tweets stared innocently back at him. GOD touch is the sexiest song anyone has EVER WRITTEN I’M SCREAMING, said the first one. make it a single queen!!!! you deserve the hottie they will cast for that music video and more!!!!!

he scrolled down. sooooooooo are we going to talk about how touch is obviously about raleigh carrera giving that good dick or nah

his eyebrows shot up. well, now he had to listen to it. 

he pulled up spotify; of course she was on the home page. with just a few taps, the song started to play. an impressive piano melody filled the room. she must have beep practicing. as her voice filtered in, he turned up the volume.

cadence sounded... soft and sad, and, the masses on twitter were right: sexy. god did her breathless, yearning voice sound sexy. despite himself, he could actually feel his face flush as he listened to the words. so won't you take it, i feel like for the first time i am not faking... fingers on my buttons and now you're playing. master of anticipation, don't you keep it all to yourself.

it took everything in him not to be consumed by the memories that were threatening, but the last thing he needed was to fall down that rabbit hole. he’d gone so long without thinking about her, after all. it was almost up to a full two days at this point, before something would inevitably remind him of her and he would spiral again.

the rest of her album stared back at him from his laptop screen. he studied the cover art as her voice filled the empty room. it was a photo of cadence, of course, a wide full-body shot against a brick wall. she looked powerful, in the sharp black outfit she was wearing, her skirt just short enough to make her legs look a few hundred miles long. 

inhaling sharply, raleigh forcibly redirected his gaze to the track list, scanning the rest of the titles. his lips curved up into a smirk as he read them off, one by one. motorcycle boy. hollywood. tattoos and bad news. subtlety was never her strong point.

then again, he mused, as he considered his own journal and the songs inside it -- kaleidoscope dress. ferris wheel. lady liberty. sex at the moda. -- he really wasn’t one to talk. not that his label would ever let him get away with that last one. it was just a working title, anyway. 

he navigated back to twitter and tapped the moment about her album, no more sad songs. the first tweet he saw said omgggg i love the energy of cadence building raleigh up in ‘gorgeous’ and then tearing him down in ‘shout out to my ex’ so much kdhfgksjfhdg HER MIND this album is everything

it looked like he had some listening to do. but first... 

he strolled over to the far wall of his bedroom and pulled off his shirt, sidling up to the floor length mirror by the window to take a selfie. his free hand pushed his hair back from his face, and he stuck his tongue out at his reflection as he snapped the picture. 

it was just trolling, he told himself as he uploaded the photo to his pictagram, already laughing at his own joke while he typed out the caption. it wasn’t like he was trying to get anyone’s attention -- he just couldn’t resist giving the fans and the internet something to talk about.

raleigh smirked at his phone as the photo finished uploading and stared back at him from his feed. photograph with no t-shirt on. well, there was no taking it back now. if cadence was allowed to write about him, he was allowed to enjoy it, right?

five minutes later, his phone rang. it was avery. he took care to pause cadence’s album before he picked up the phone. “helloooooooo?”

“you know you broke the internet, right?” she asked, aprops of a greeting. 

a shit-eating grin appeared on his face. “i have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“you’re such a dick,” she laughed, “you just couldn’t let her have one day, could you? you could congratulate her, you know. she worked really hard on that thing.”

“um, i basically gave her a number one album,” he remarked, his bravado a mask as always. “without me she would’ve had, like, one track on that thing. or she wouldda had to write about you. so you’re welcome, too.”

raleigh pulled his phone away from his face to squint down at his pictagram notifications. stream no more sad songs!! said the last ten comments. omg shout out to my ex is right

“besides, i’m getting trolled. like, a lot. i doubt she cares what i post.”

“i wouldn’t be so sure about that,” avery remarked cryptically. before he had a chance to wonder what that meant, she said, “hey, she’s playing a surprise show tonight at webster hall before the album release party. you should stop by.”

“i think if she wanted me to come to her party she would’ve invited me.” it might’ve been nice to hear from her -- especially given the intimate details about their relationship he was now being forced to listen to, along with millions of other people. 

you’re not being fair, he reminded himself, thinking again of sex at the moda. he hardly intended to give her a heads-up about that one. though he doubted she would care.

not that he cared. she could write about whatever she wanted. she could turn her life into art -- if that was what she wanted. she could tell... whoever, about what had happened between them. about what he’d made her feel.

she never told him, but, whatever. that was fine. that was her prerogative.

“earth to raleigh,” avery said on the line, snapping him out of his thoughts. “i said, she didn’t tell anyone about the party. the album was a secret, yeah? you should at least come to the show. i think your support would mean a lot to her.”

“well, i guess you’ll just have to support her enough for the both of us,” he said, meaner than he felt. raleigh shut his eyes, sighing as he rubbed at his forehead. “sorry. i’m not trying to be an asshole.”

“don’t sweat it.” avery always let him off the hook so easily, “i know it just comes naturally to you. seriously, the show starts at 7. think about it, okay? if you do decide to come, text me when you get there and i’ll let you in the back.”

he put the album back on as soon as they hung up. without a distraction, there was nothing to stop him from looking at cadence’s twitter account. she’d last posted just a few minutes ago:

surprise! i’ll be playing no more sad songs in its entirety tonight at webster hall’s marlin room. doors open at 6 for the first 600 in line. see you there? you never know who might drop by...

fuck it. he turned the volume up on her album and headed towards the shower. he’d avoided her for long enough, and tonight was as good a night for him to get over himself as any. maybe after this he could stop looking over his shoulder at every party he went to, terrified he’d have to see her. 

that didn’t mean that it didn’t feel like a mistake, to get dressed and make his way to the village. it felt like a bad decision every step of the way, even as he ducked around the back of the venue at 7:05 to see avery’s smiling face, holding the backstage door wide open. it was too late to go home, now. 

“took you long enough,” she grinned, squealing as she jumped into his arms. “i almost thought you weren’t going to show.”

“yeah, yeah. did she go on yet?”

avery led him inside, closing the door firmly behind them both. she nodded as they stepped up to the side of the stage. the screams from the crowd were deafening. “she just went out there. i think she’s about to start --”

raleigh heard the strum of a guitar and peeked around to see cadence standing center stage. “this is a really good looking crowd,” she said, grinning when the sound of the cheers rose exponentially. “thanks so much for coming out. are you guys cool if i play some tunes? yeah? okay, then. this first one is about a guy i used to date, it’s called ‘gorgeous.’”

he folded his arms over his chest, leaning back against the wall behind them. he was shameless in the way he looked her up and down, staring as she strutted across the stage. he was proud of her -- she’d come a long way since the first time he saw her perform, so long ago. cadence had real stage presence, now -- she’d come into her own. she acted like a woman, sang like a woman, dressed like a woman. she was confident. 

“whiskey on ice, sunset and vine. you’ve ruined my life by not being mine.” an elbow in his side made raleigh tear his eyes from her. he looked over at avery, rubbing at his ribs. “ow. what was that for?”

“you know everyone thinks this one is about you, right?” she asked, smirking. 

“you make me so happy it turns back to sad, there’s nothing i hate more than what i can’t have.” 

“aren’t they all about me?” raleigh asked, still hiding behind his attitude. avery only rolled her eyes, and eventually the crowd’s screams drowned out anything else they might’ve wanted to say. 

she played a few more songs before finally sitting down at the piano off to the side of the stage. now that she was closer, raleigh could see her better, and he stared as she brushed her hand across her forehead, pushing her hair off her face. she drank deeply from a water bottle and then set it on the piano’s ledge. raleigh was close enough to watch her swallow, but she still didn’t see him. it was probably the stage lights -- a single spotlight illuminated her at the piano as she adjusted the mic to pull it closer to her lips.

“we’re gonna slow it down for just one song,” cadence said, “i hope you don’t mind.” the cheers from the crowd proved that they didn’t. “i saw ya’ll talking about this one on twitter earlier.” he could see her grin perfectly from where he was standing; it was blinding. “i’m glad you like it. even if you don’t post thirst traps to it.”

the crowd went wild. even raleigh barked out a laugh; he hardly thought she had it in her. okay. point one, cadence.

“put your flashlights in the air for this one, okay? you and i and nobody else... feeling feelings i never felt...”

she was beautiful, of course -- always, every day, but never more than in this moment, with her eyes closed and her expression haunted, her hands moving along the piano keys. it probably said something dangerous about his ego that he found her the most stunning when she was singing about him. 

as the last few notes died, he sighed, digging his fingernails into the fabric of his jacket over his arms where they were folded on his chest. suddenly, it felt like he shouldn’t be there. or maybe he was the only one who should be there. either way, he hardly wanted to think about it. 

her moment of silent reflection as the song ended was gone in a flash. he watched her take a breath to steady herself, and then cadence was back in her stage persona, hopping off the piano bench to grab her guitar again. “thank you so much, new york city. you’ve been amazing. i’m so glad i could share this album with you -- it’s one of the most personal things i’ve ever written, and it means so much to me to play it for you all like this.” 

“this is the last song i have for you tonight -- it’s the title track, no more sad songs. it’s the last song i wrote for the album. this song is about trying to get over someone you can’t help but think about by any means necessary. it’s about the point in a breakup where you’re tired of wallowing and you’ll do anything you can to make yourself feel better -- i like to think it’s about the acceptance stage of grief. anyway, it felt right to keep it last... to name the album after it. i’m finally at a place in my life where i can put this chapter behind me. and it took a lot to get there, and i’m so proud of that. so, with that being said...” 

the crowd cheered as she strummed the first few notes. “thank you guys again so fucking much. sing along if you know the words already, okay?”

it was the second time that day he’d heard the song. it still made him feel the same way he’d felt when he first heard it -- angry and surprised and unsettled... and guilty. why hadn’t she ever told him she felt that way? why hadn’t she called him, and more importantly, why had he never called her, again?

his gaze hardened as she stopped at the front of the stage for the bridge. the same single spotlight illuminated her again. 

“uh, why do you have that murdery look?” avery asked from beside him. he said nothing, watching the melody build around cadence as she approached the crowd.

“still got you on my mind, starting to realize... no matter what i do, i will only harm myself tryn’a hurt you, and if i turn the music loud just to drown you out --”

her head tipped back with the powerful crescendo. she looked like an angel under the spotlight, more beautiful than he even knew how to explain. his chest seized painfully. 

abruptly, he turned around and headed back towards the backstage door. he knew he only had moments until the last song ended and cadence rushed backstage, and he needed to get out of there before that happened.

“raleigh!” avery called after him, but he didn’t stop, throwing open the back door and stepping out onto the sidewalk... immediately into a crowd of waiting fans and paparazzi.

a cacophony of screams started from the street. “ohmygod, it’s raleigh carrera!”

fuck. venue security glared at him as he shoved sunglasses on -- fuck the fact that it was nine o’clock at night -- and rushed off down the sidewalk. so much for getting in and out before cadence saw him. there’d be pictures of his exit all over social media in moments. paparazzi called after him as he rushed to the intersection, eyes scanning the street desperately for a working cab.

he stuck his hand out just as one with its lights on slid to a stop at the corner, jumping inside and slamming the door closed. camera flashes still shone behind his eyes even as he shoved the palms of his hands into them, drawing in a deep breath. sighing shakily, he met the driver’s eyes in the rearview mirror. “88th and park. please.”

once he was alone in his apartment he felt like he wanted to put his fist through a wall. the urge to destroy something, anything was too strong -- because that was what he was supposed to do, wasn’t it? that’s what raleigh carrera would do.

she deserved so much better than him. the last thing she needed was to see him at her show and get sucked back into his bullshit. he paced around his living room, convincing himself he’d done the right thing. she’d moved on, after all -- she was happy, thriving. she didn’t need him around messing up her life. she’d practically said so herself. 

his phone vibrated where he’d dumped it on the coffee table, sliding onto the carpeted floor. raleigh couldn’t think of anyone he wanted to talk to, but he bent down and picked it up anyway.

he almost jumped out of his skin when he saw the caller id. cadence dorian. tongue out emoji. winking emoji. music note. 

“hello?”

“oh, so your phone isn’t down a well somewhere. okay, just checking. good to know.”

she hung up. 

he glared down at the phone in his hand. what the fuck? raleigh called her back before he even knew what he was doing.

“what?” she answered, though she sounded annoyed. like... really annoyed. 

“what is your problem?” he demanded.

“my problem?” she laughed. he could barely hear her over the commotion on the other end of the line -- someone was calling her name repeatedly in a way that sounded urgent -- and then a door slammed, and there was quiet. “my problem, okay. i don’t have a problem. i’m not the one out here subtweeting and sneaking in and out of your show without calling, am i?”

“no, you’re just writing and releasing an entire sixteen-song album about me and all the ways i ruined your life without calling,” he snapped, his patience finally wearing thin enough to crumble. “don’t you think it might’ve been nice for you to give me a heads-up?”

“oh, please,” cadence scoffed, and he could feel that she was getting angry now, too. it felt good, in an awful sort of way. at least it was something. “i should have to clear it with you every time i write a song?”

“not a heads-up about the album,” he grit out, the fingers of his free hand flexing with the urge to throw something, “a heads-up about the way you fucking felt. you never say a goddamn word about any of that to me and i have to find out about it for the first time with -- everyone else? that’s really fucking special, cadence. that means a lot to me.”

there was silence on the other end of the line, giving him a moment to try to calm himself down. cadence was only ever quiet when she’d been surprised, meaning she wasn’t expecting him to say that. but she was certainly silent, then; if he couldn’t still hear her breathing raggedly, he might’ve assumed that she hung up on him again.

finally, she spoke, her voice small and unsure. “raleigh...”

but he wasn’t done fighting with her yet. “what’s the matter? you never thought that it might actually hurt my feelings? i guess that’s on me for giving a shit.”

“raleigh,” cadence said again, more insistently this time, “i didn’t know how to --”

“how to what, cadence? not break up with me? not ignore me for eight months afterwards? not pretend like it didn’t mean anything to you? it’s not that difficult.”

“well, obviously it was too difficult for you to do, too. you didn’t call me, either. so i’m supposed to believe -- what, exactly? that you missed me? that’s convincing, when you’re never out without a model on your arm.” 

she sounded hurt. why did she sound hurt? she was the one who’d stomped on his heart, she was the one who’d wanted this. 

“get over yourself,” he bit out, his hand curling into a fist at his side. he was never going to get his security deposit back after what he was about to do to his penthouse. “you knew i was in love with you and you didn’t care. which is fine. you don’t have to... just own it. stop acting like i did something to you.”

suddenly, the commotion on the other end of the line was back. “i have to go,” she said softly, her voice barely a whisper. 

he hung up without saying goodbye, throwing his phone onto the couch. okay. that was fine. everything was fine.

except that he couldn’t possibly stand to be in his apartment for another moment -- not without doing something stupid. 

he grabbed his keys and his phone and left, slamming the door behind him. his fingers drummed restlessly on his thighs as he rode the elevator down to the lobby. there were paparazzi waiting outside the front door of his building -- raleigh could see them through the glass as soon as he stepped out of the elevator. with a grimace, he headed for the back door.

there was already a car waiting for him. “let’s go to kismet,” he directed, rapidly firing off text messages to anyone he knew who might be available to distract him. 

within minutes, he was inside the club at a vip table. there was a bottle of vodka sitting in a bucket of ice at the center of the booth, calling out to him. he lifted it straight to his lips, drinking as much as he could in one go without coughing. she’d always used to joke about his self-destructive tendencies. if only she could see him now.

“hey, raleigh.” belle tamblyn stood before him, smiling in the low light of the club. she must’ve just gotten back from paris fashion week. two of her friends had already sat down at the booth, talking among themselves. 

he leaned back into the booth with a charming smile. “hey, belle. i knew you missed me.”

she laughed, taking his words as an invitation to sit down in his lap. he didn’t push her off, wrapping an arm around her narrow shoulders. she was taller and thinner than cadence in a way that wasn’t unfamiliar to him, but wasn’t exactly welcome, either. you’re never out without a model on your arm.

“so,” she started, looking down at him from up close, “what’ve you --”

he leaned up and kissed her, sliding a hand into her hair. her lips parted in surprise, sticky with lip gloss. raleigh bit her bottom lip and she sighed breathlessly, and that was -- good. that was almost... close enough.

his free hand slid over her backside, pulling her in closer. she was breathing hard when she pulled away, her face flushed.

raleigh laughed, pushing his fingertips under the hem of her dress. she reached down and swatted playfully at his chest.

“you’re an asshole,” she said primly, but she was rubbing her hand over the muscles in his chest. “do you want to get out of here?”

the last thing he wanted was to bring her back to his apartment, or to be there at all. “i don’t think i can wait that long,” he said charmingly, “bathroom?”

her nose scrunched up as she considered it, staring down at him. then, she said, “fine,” and slid up off his lap. he grinned, grabbing her hand and tugging her off toward the back of the club. 

it was a single person bathroom, and blessedly empty when they arrived. no one paid them any attention as he pulled her inside and flipped the lock. 

raleigh lifted her onto the sink and leaned in to kiss her again. she moaned as he pushed her legs apart and stepped between them, sliding his hands up her thighs.

this was fine. this was what he wanted.

so why couldn’t he force himself to do what he knew he was supposed to? his hands didn’t seem to want to move from where he’d anchored them on her legs, his lips kissing her methodically but not doing much else.

she wants to have sex with you! his brain screamed at him, she is a supermodel. a supermodel who wants to have sex with you. 

impatiently, her hands slid to the waistband of his jeans. he didn’t stop her as she pulled the zipper down and slipped her hand under the waistband of his briefs. 

it’s not a big deal. you’ve done this a million times. never after an argument like that with cadence, though... only when she was busy pretending he didn’t exist... 

the bass of the music playing in the club vibrated through the closed door. the song sounded painfully familiar -- he strained to make out what it was...

of course it was a dance remix of ‘gorgeous.’ why wouldn’t it be?

panting, he pulled his mouth off of belle’s, tipping their foreheads together. “hey,” he started hoarsely, licking his lips as he glanced down towards where her hand was wrapped around him, “i’m sorry, but i don’t... have anything. i don’t think we should...”

have unprotected sex in a nightclub bathroom. her teeth dug into her bottom lip as she weighed her options. on any other night, that might have actually been flattering, but tonight...

pounding on the bathroom door made their minds up for them. he stepped back, adjusting himself in his jeans. “come on.”

he helped her down off the sink and opened the door, ready to lead her back out into the club. the line of people waiting to use the bathroom stared open-mouthed at them both as they walked off toward the booth. raleigh grinned at them as he walked past -- that was what he was supposed to do, right?

belle’s friends barely arched an eyebrow at her as they sat down again. immediately, he started pouring drinks and passing them out -- anything to be as drunk as possible before the song ended.

by the time he stumbled home, alone, it was late -- later than he’d wanted to be out. he used the front door -- not because he wanted any paparazzi to get photos of him going home alone or anything, but because he felt like it -- and waited until he was in the elevator to sigh frustratedly, decidedly not checking his phone. he knew there was no way she’d texted him.

cadence was sitting on the floor outside of his apartment door when he stepped out into the hallway.

he stared at her like she was a hallucination, lifting one hand to his eyes to rub at them. maybe he had more to drink than he’d thought. she looked up at him, still dressed in what she must’ve worn to her album release party.

he felt like he was going to throw up. god, that would be uncool.

“hi,” she said quietly, from the floor. wordlessly, he stepped closer to her and held out his hand. she took it, letting him pull her up. “can i talk to you?”

that wasn’t going to be easy, considering he had absolutely no idea what to say, but raleigh nodded, unlocking his front door and motioning for her to step inside.

he didn’t turn the lights on, letting the floor-to-ceiling windows illuminate the space. the lights from the city and the glow of the moon made cadence look almost ethereal as she slowly wandered over towards the far wall, hesitating for a moment before kicking her high-heeled shoes off. despite himself, his lips twitched up into a smile as he watched her.

“want a drink?” he asked, because he certainly did.

she nodded, and he moved to the bar cart to pour them both a half-full glass of vodka. he dropped an ice cube into his and poured orange juice over hers. 

raleigh forced his feet to join her at the windows, silently holding her glass out to her. she took it with a mumble of thanks, lifting it to her lips. her eyes were trained on the view. what the fuck was she doing here?

the silence stretched between them. finally, he said, “congratulations on the album. it’s really good.”

that seemed to snap her out of it. she snuck a glance at him out of the corner of her eye. “you listened to it?”

he nodded. no point in lying about it, now. “i’m a narcissist,” he joked, “it’s what i do.”

she laughed. raleigh stuffed his free hand into his pocket so that he wouldn’t reach out for her. god, he’d missed her laugh. 

he drained what was left in his glass in one go. “what’re you doing here?”

cadence was still staring out at the city. “i wanted to talk to you.”

“and yet, here you are. not talking.”

“i didn’t get that far when i planned this in my head,” she admitted, in an annoyingly endearing way. god damnit.

“how far did you get?”

she turned to look at him, then, leaning her shoulder against the window. “i thought maybe i would just kiss you when you got here and that would say everything i wanted to say. but then i chickened out.”

it felt like she’d just elbowed him in the stomach. “that doesn’t sound like you.”

“the kissing? i don’t know, i thought about it kind of a lot...”

he swallowed hard. “the chickening out.”

“oh.” she nodded, looking away. raleigh watched her stare down at the glass in her hands. “i guess i just felt like i already messed up so much. i didn’t want to... do the wrong thing again.”

raleigh couldn’t quite decide if he was too drunk for this conversation or not drunk enough. “how was your party?”

“it was fine. i think the last one i had -- for the odyssey -- was better.”

there was a night he didn’t want to relive. “look,” he sighed finally, turning back towards the windows and the city skyline, “i didn’t mean to put you in an uncomfortable position. if you’re only here because you think i’m upset... you don’t have to be. i’ll be fine.”

he could see her shifting out of his peripheral vision. she seemed to be considering what she wanted to say. finally, she spoke up. “that’s not why i’m here.” he turned towards her and watched as her shoulders squared. “i’m here because i missed you. a lot. and i wanted to apologize, for what happened between us... for shutting you out. for not telling you how i felt -- that i was in love with you, too. for letting you go.”

raleigh’s grip tightened on his glass so that he wouldn’t drop it on the floor. he stared at her like he was seeing her for the first time. 

cadence drew in a deep breath and continued, “getting over you was the hardest thing i ever had to do. and when i saw the pictures of you leaving the show tonight i realized... i failed miserably at it. i can’t get over you. i couldn’t. i won’t.”

he had to be imagining this, right? he was drunk and asleep in his limo, he had to be. he was dreaming.

but she felt very, very real when she reached out and twined her fingers in the fabric of his shirt.

“please say something,” she begged. she was undeniable.

“cadence...” he sighed, “you know how i feel.”

she nodded, once. “i do, but i want to hear you say it.”

“i want you to be my fucking girlfriend,” he admitted immediately, his voice hoarse. now that he’d given in, his free hand reached out and cupped her cheek. “for real. all the time. in front of everyone. i want you to move in, i never want us to go another day without talking. i don’t want anyone else to touch you. ever again.”

her lips parted. he couldn’t stop his thumb from pressing into her invitingly full bottom lip, watching in fascination as her eyelids fluttered. “raleigh,” she breathed, beautifully enough to do his head in. 

he stepped forward swiftly, pressing her back against the windows, and kissed her. she moaned, scrambling to set her glass on the side table next to her. he knew her hands were free when they shoved into his hair. 

fuck, if he hadn’t been wanting this for so long. his lips broke off of her to trail kisses across her jaw, down towards her neck. he couldn’t stop his fingers from tugging at her dress insistently. “do you want that?” he demanded. raleigh felt her nod against him. his teeth scraped across her pulse point. “say it.”

“raleigh!” she exclaimed. it was the most amazing sound in the world. his hips pushed forward insistently, grinding between her thighs. the force of it pushed her back into the windows. “i want it, i want you. i want all of it -- everything.”

the urgency to fuck her through the window was balancing precariously against his desire to do things right -- to give her what she deserved. with a huff, he wrapped his arms around her and lifted her up, walking them both off towards his bedroom.

she laughed again as he dumped her on the mattress, hard enough to make her bounce. raleigh grinned back at her as he whipped his shirt off of his head, tossing it to the floor. she was scrambling up the mattress, and he chased her towards the headboard, kneeling on top of her when she finally laid back.

he crowded her in close for another kiss, his hands everywhere at once. she whined into his lips, kissing him so urgently, like they didn’t have all the time in the world, now. “i missed you,” she breathed, her hands clutching at his shoulders desperately.

“i missed you too, beautiful,” he returned, pushing her dress up her thighs, “now lie back and let me make you feel good.”

his head was spinning by the time they’d finished, and not because of the drinks he’d had. cadence was tucked up under his arm, her head pillowed on his chest. she was still catching her breath as she dragged her fingertips along the tattoo spanning the expanse of his ribs.

the sun was starting to come up outside, filtering light into his bedroom. he stared at her face, illuminated by the dawning daylight. “you know, if anyone here is gorgeous, it’s you.”

“oh my god,” she mumbled, pressing her face into his skin, “you’re never going to let this go, are you?”

he smirked up at the ceiling as he pulled her in closer. “would you say it makes you so mad?”

“i’m going home,” she threatened, pinching his side. he laughed, squirming away from her hand. “this is over. you ruined it.”

“well, what if i want to come along?”

“raleigh,” she groaned finally, kicking him under the covers, “stop it.”

he snickered, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “what, you’re allowed to write about me, but i’m not allowed to enjoy it?”

“please,” she sighed, settling in against his chest again, “like you don’t write about me.”

“i never said that,” he hummed, already imagining the things her face would do when she finally got to listen to his album, if he ever finished it. “i’m really hoping the label doesn’t make me change the name of sex at the moda.”

“okay, you did not write a song called ‘sex at the moda.’ tell me you didn’t.”

“i’d hate to lie.”

she lifted her head to look at him, her face flushing. “will you play it for me?”

he eyed the guitar in the corner of his bedroom. like he could ever say no to her. still...

“maybe later,” he grinned, rolling over to pin her beneath him, the sheets tangling around their legs. “i can think of a better use of our time. we have a lot to catch up on.”

her arms wound around his neck. “tell me about it.”

[milesheizclub]

What Do You Want?

Summary: Alex has been distant again, so when he gets a weird note amidst all this confusion, Charlie expects the worst.

or

What I wanted to have happen the day before Charlie wakes up in Alex’ bed.

Word count: 1931

Read on AO3

Note: *un-beta’d as usual. I really love Chalex and it has touched a part of my heart that has affected me, oddly, much more than even Justlex and Zalex. So please be kind. Lmao

Please like and reblog!

-

When Charlie found out Alex wanted to meet in the park after school, his heart sank a little. He got the address and exact tree they were supposed to meet under on a little note slipped into his gym locker after practice. A little more eery than he was used to with Alex, but just as mysterious.

They were figuring things out, but it had undoubtedly been difficult for Charlie. Alex had kissed him back during the drills, and then pushed him away. Then the riot had happened, and he thought they were closer than ever. They’d been good; they were seeing each other often for the first few days, and Alex seemed… happy. He thought he was making Alex happy. He thought that Alex coming to look for him and help him during the riot was a sign that he really cared. But suddenly the distance returned, and the messages turned cryptic, and it was like they were back to square one.

It took a while for Charlie to spot him once he got to the park, but there he was, sitting cross-legged at the base of the tree, playing with the blades of grass before him, or rather, ripping them off one by one. Charlie dug his hands into his jacket pockets, and took his time walking to Alex. It wasn’t every day that he felt nervous to talk to anyone, but Alex was definitely different. He was special. And he was special to Charlie.

As soon as Charlie’s shoe stepped into Alex’ line of sight, the boy looked up from his patch of grass straight into Charlie’s blue eyes. He smiled a little, and it reached his eyes, but something else resided there and it made Charlie’s heart beat quicker. Alex pat the space on the ground beside him quietly, and Charlie took a seat a few inches away from him.

They sat there, simple and silent, for a few minutes, Alex continuing to rip up the grass in front of him, giving a couple of blades to Charlie, which prompted the perfectly gentleman “thank you” out of him, and Alex chuckled.

“I’m sorry about the past few days,” Alex started. He was speaking like he found determination, though his hands turned timid and quiet. Charlie tried to look at him, but Alex stared off into the distance. “I know that I’ve been… gone. It wasn’t fair to you, I know, and…” Alex paused, brows furrowed and eyes trained to the ground. “I hate that I did that.” His voice had diminished and Alex started ripping up the grass once again, leaving a bald spot in the soil.

Charlie badly wished to take Alex’ hands in his, to have him look him in the eyes again, to reassure him that everything was alright. But he waited.

“I don’t know if it hurt you, but,”

“It did.” Charlie couldn’t help it coming out of his mouth, and maybe it had come out more aggressively than he thought because Alex winced and clenched his fists. “Fuck,” Charlie mumbled. “I’m sorry,” he followed.

“Don’t be.” Alex’ breathing grew more staggered. “You shouldn’t be sorry about that.”

The silence that followed lasted another few minutes, Alex getting his breathing back to normal, and Charlie kicking himself on being so careless, pushing back when he didn’t need to. He wanted to reach out, but what if Alex retreated and pushed him away even further? It was the last thing he wanted, so he offered his hand instead, laying it facing up on the grass between them.

Alex glanced at it and took it immediately, giving Charlie’s hand a light squeeze, and Charlie let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding.

“I’m sorry,” Alex said, shaking his head lightly. “I’m really sorry.” Charlie chanced a glance and saw Alex screwing his eyes shut.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Charlie said.

“No, it’s not.” Alex released his tight grip on Charlie’s hand but it let it rest beside, just barely touching. “I… want this. I want this with you, I want you more than you think.” His hand twitched and pulled back a few millimeters. “I really do care about you. So much. And if I let you in… that comes with a whole lot of shit that you shouldn’t have to deal with. I don’t want to put you through anything that has to do with me. I…” His mind was racing, Charlie could tell, by the way Alex’ eyes shifted behind his closed eyelids, and the way his breathing never really got a chance to slow down. “I’m a fucked up person and… Jesus, this sounds so fucking three-years-ago of me, but I just don’t deserve you.”

“Hey,” Charlie said immediately, shifting and turning to sit directly in front of Alex. “Please look at me?”

Alex refused, keeping his gaze trained on the bare ground in front of him. Charlie didn’t budge, giving the boy time. Alex instead brought Charlie’s hand closer to him, clearing his throat.

“It’s taken me these last few years, thinking about the things I’ve done, and the person I was, and the kind of person I wanna be, I’m trying to be, to figure out what feels right for me to have in this life.” He tightened his grip on Charlie’s hand, who readily reciprocated. “I’ve… allowed myself an amount of happiness, moving forward, and you’re… too much for me.”

“Alex…”

“Charles Hayden.” Alex finally lifted his eyes to meet Charlie’s once again, a bitter smile gracing his soft face, “Sweet Charles. I can’t be that selfish. Not anymore. Not when being selfish almost ruined my entire life and everyone else’s around me. The people I actually gave a shit about.” His voice started to get caught in his throat, and he gave Charlie’s hand another squeeze. A tear built up in Alex’ eye, and it took everything in Charlie to not reach up and wipe it away before it fell. “I was… a scam artist,” he continued. “A thief. And I’m trying very hard to change that. I feel like I’m finally on a path that’s safe, and feels like what I deserve for what I’m worth. Getting to keep you, too? It’s too much. I’d spend my whole life giving as much of myself as I can, and it still wouldn’t feel enough to afford you. It’d feel too much of like what I was.”

“Selfish?” Charlie asked after a moment.

Alex nodded. “A thief,” he confirmed. “Like I’d have kept something from the world that never should have been mine in the first place. Precious. The way you are.” He tore his eyes away from Charlie’s and trained them to the smattering of trees in the distance.

Charlie was speechless. All this time, the inconsistency, the distance - it wasn’t that Alex was drifting away from him, it’s that he’d been fighting for him. Fighting himself to hold on to this. And he’d convinced himself he’d already lost the fight.

Charlie scooted forward so that their shoulders touched but he could still face Alex. He worked up the nerve to lift up his hand and gently caress Alex’ cheek. Feeling Charlie’s hand against his skin, he closed his eyes and leaned into the touch. Charlie could feel the faint pulse against Alex’ jaw, and it was racing as fast as his. It took his breath away when Alex opened his eyes back up. He’d never seen them so open and…

“I’m scared,” Alex whispered, searching Charlie’s face.

“Of what?” Charlie asked, tenderly, taking the chance to wipe away the tear that had just fallen from Alex’ eye. “Of me?” Alex just stared back at him, as if scared to even speak.

“I’m scared I’ll ruin you. Somehow. Like I did them. I’ll make another fucking mistake and then…” He didn’t continue. Charlie didn’t notice it at first, but when they leaned their foreheads together and closed their eyes, he could feel Alex’ more labored breaths against his face as the smaller boy rubbed his own chest through his shirt. He gave Alex more time - to get his breath even, to get his mind to stop racing, and to get him to look at him once more. It took maybe ten minutes this time, their heads together and eyes remained closed, and Charlie snaking his hand around the back of Alex’ head and combing through his hair, humming a tune so softly until Alex eventually leaned up and looked at Charlie again.

“You’re not going to ruin me,” Charlie finally replied. “I’m not so easily breakable, you know that.”

“That’s not what I thought when I saw you lying on the ground, unconscious.”

Charlie chuckled. “And you saved my life, see? Literally the opposite of ruining me.”

“I didn’t save your life, I moved you like two inches before the car explo-“

“My point is,” Charlie cut him off, bringing his other hand up to Alex’ face, keeping their gaze steady, “that I feel safe with you, Alex. I can trust you. You’ve gone through so much, and you keep moving with love. You’re… amazing to me.

“You don’t have to go through life… without me. We can move forward together. And if you make a mistake, I’ll let you fix it… but only if you let me do the same. Or, we could decide right now to fix it together. Whatever wrong thing happens. We could be in this together, Alex. Please.” He leaned in to close the distance and gave the boy the softest kiss, relieving Alex’ shoulders of its weight and letting him breathe into it, lighter and more alive. Alex grabbed onto Charlie’s arms desperately, grasping tightly to his sweater. And when the two broke away, they stayed close, breathing each other’s air.

The first time Alex reached up and snaked his hand around Charlie’s head, nestling it in his hair, it sent shivers down Charlie’s skin and woke up the little hairs at the back of his neck and around his arms.

“It’s going to be difficult,” Alex said. “I might make it difficult.”

Charlie clicked his tongue and smiled. “Not on purpose, I hope.”

“Of course not.” Alex’ eyebrows turned to knots once again, and Charlie couldn’t help but laugh and thumb the wrinkles back down.

“Difficult is a normal thing. So, we can just be normal. And I’m really looking forward to that.” Charlie kissed the tip of his nose, and it was the first time in days that he’d seen Alex’ smile reach his glistening, cloudy blue eyes. “There we go,” he whispered before giving Alex a chaste kiss.

“This conversation isn’t over, by the way,” Alex said.

“And I’d keep talking to you for as long as you want me to.” Charlie smiled.

“Do you… wanna come back home with me? My parents are out for the night, so… we could talk there? Maybe you could sleep over?” He seemed uncertain to Charlie, but that Alex wanted to bring him home to any extent warmed his chest. He shot up out of the ground and dusted off the back of his pants, and offered his hand to help Alex up.

Alex rolled his eyes and flashed him another smile before taking his hand, letting himself be pulled up, once again surprised at how strong Charlie truly was. And as they walked to Charlie’s car, and as his hand received a reassuring squeeze, Alex figured Charlie to be stronger than he’d given him credit for, and that maybe being a little less afraid wouldn’t be so bad.

[polymathemawrites]

Hungover in the City of Dust - Part 3

cw: drug use, panic attacks, ptsd, injuries

Gordon gets medical treatment and has a nap (and the author steals from portuguese phrase sites to serve his own ends)

Part One | Part Two | Part Three below

Take a breath, and another, deep in his aching lungs, pull in air between broken lips. Trembling and raw, he looks up at Barney from his place seated on the cot. Something in his expression had caused Barney to relent and take on the medical treatment himself but Gordon's strength had given out when his friend had begun to try and treat his injured side. So clean enough, Gordon had been deposited on the cot and made to lay down, while Barney groaned to kneel beside him. He'd said he was fine but Gordon hadn't been able to shake the guilt of his friend putting himself in pain just to take care of his accidents. The Vortigaunts could have mended him maybe and yet Barney hadn't fetched one of them either. Perhaps it would have been practical but Gordon didn't think he could take it emotionally. Half of his break down was mental, not just physical, and the act of laying down as someone touched him without a mind to hurt him was doing wonders for his racing heart and the ache in his chest.

Barney's hands were sure as they gently soothed some sort of ointment over him, steady when they wrapped his wounds in clean cotton. When they caught each other's eyes, Barney smiled at him. "Once I get you all bandaged up I've got a shirt for you to sleep in, see if I can't find you some briefs that aren't too big either, I uh," Barney drew off, face flushing an adorable shade of red, "Usually go without these days, while I got the luxury of uniform skivvies back in the CP I'd always give 'em away to people who needed 'em more. Gets cold out in the wilderness."

"Not that they'd of fit you anyway." Barney patted Gordon's hip above where he was tending to the injury on his thigh, "Gained weight in my old age."

You look good.

Gordon's pulse jumps when Barney laughs self-consciously and strokes a circle into his hip with his thumb, "You don't gotta baby my feelings, Gord. I know I'm every bit fifty five and I look like I live off beer and ration packs, because I do."

He pushes himself up onto his elbows, the bandage Barney already applied around his arm stretching with the motion, it gets Barney's attention who then moves to try and push his shoulders back into the bed, Gordon expends his remaining energy to stay up which serves to put their faces inches away. Barney blinks in confusion and his surprise causes him to relent, leaning back a little but his hands stayed there on Gordon's shoulders, one dry and one slick with the ointment he's been applying to Gordon's injuries.

Talking is pretty hard at this angle, having to lean entirely on his elbows and bend his arms up toward his own raised chest causes his wound to press painfully against the cloth, probably would have been smarter to argue this while laying down.

You look really, okay and his body gives out, flopping back onto the limp and stained pillow, Really good, Barn.

"You still on the good shit, Gord?" Barney laughs softly, still leaning over him, hands on his shoulders.

No, my body hates me and everything is pain. You look really good.

Barney flushes, and then he curses under his breath, "Why didn't you say somethin' what a fuckin' good caretaker I am, lettin' you suffer! Dagnabbit!" He turns from Gordon to do something with the first aid box he'd dragged to the bed and Gordon turns his head to watch him, tired and drained.

Really good. Barney isn't looking at his hands, he probably doesn't even realize Gordon is signing. God, I love you so much.

"Here we go, somethin' to help with that." Barney comes up with a syringe and a glass vial, measures it out the old-fashioned way, no suit to shove it right into Gordon's veins. Despite the speed and numbness provided by the suit he far prefers the way Barney's sure hands tighten the strip of rubber around his upper arm and feel out a vein, the way he flicks his finger in a snap against the inside of Gordon's arm, the intimacy of alcohol swab and the soft voice that follows, "Little sting, darling." The prick is barely felt as he watches the single-minded focus on Barney's face as he slips needle to vein. The morphine hits him like a wave, splashes through his head with hot-hot-heat between one heartbeat and the next. Barney puts another bandage on him after loosening the rubber strip. "Better?"

Love. You. Gordon signs before letting his hand drop back to his side. He feels just fantastic. Just fuckin' fantastic.

Barney freezes up, eyes staring at where Gordon's hands had been, as if he could still see the sign pathing there, before he looks to Gordon's face and gives him a cryptic smile, "I'll be right back with somethin' comfortable for you to wear."

Gordon closes his eyes to shut everything out, to keep from seeing that cryptic smile anymore. He didn't say it back, but what was Gordon really expecting, after twenty years? Was he expecting Barney to return his affections now? Head full of exhaustion and morphine, it dulled the pain of rejection, but it still hurt worse than any of the wounds riddling his overtaxed body.

But Barney hasn't left yet, instead he places his hand on Gordon's chest - right above his heart, and Gordon opens his eyes to look up at Barney still in his Civil Protection uniform, blood stained as it is. "Tomorrow we're gonna talk about that. Can't just spring that on me right after I hit you with morphine, Gordon. Don't know what to think, you've got no idea how bad I've missed you." There is no amount of morphine, no amount of fatigue, that could obfuscate the look of loss and heartbreak that flickers in Barney's beautiful teal-brown eyes, "Missed you so bad, darlin' you don't know. Twenty years, and I," Barney's voice cracks and Gordon wants, needs, so much to pull Barney onto the cot with him, to hold him until that pain-thick sound is gone, but Barney is out of reach now, standing apart from him, hand no longer placed to pulse, "I've missed you. We'll talk about that tomorrow. See if you hold to that when you know what I've done, when you're thinkin' clearly."

Gordon really wants to tell him there isn't a single thing Barney could do or have done that would change the way he felt, feels, for him - but the man has slipped out of the room, leaving Gordon alone with his morphine addled headspace and every ounce of his exhaustion.

There is nothing Gordon can do against the dark when it claims him, only glad it's the old-fashioned slippery slide of sleep and not Him deciding maybe Gordon still has use yet.

"So, I take it I don't have much of a chance with you?" Alyx's voice isn't sad so much, it's sort of bemused. Gordon's hand tightens on the Zero Point Energy Field Manipulator in his tension. "I mean, if someone looked at me the way you look at him, I'd be a lucky girl."

Gordon flinches, she had to, she had to say the rest of it, didn't she?

Alyx makes a soft sound as he jumps down a steep incline, pathing to the next building, "Wait, Gordon! Hey, I - It's okay, I won't tell anyone." He hears her jump down after him, and when she goes to pull herself up onto the next platform he offers his hand to help her.

Momentary panic passing, he leans the really neat gun he was maybe way attached to now up against his leg, if only he'd had this thing back in Black Mesa, It wasn't okay, back then. Not really, not in the sector of the world I worked in.

"A lot has changed." She pats his arm and leans against the wall next to him as they both catch their breath, he had maybe started walking a little faster than the suit liked, "There aren't exactly enough people to get angry about who you love, not like any of us can get on the baby-making train anyway." Alyx laughs and Gordon rolls his eyes at her. "Oh come on, loosen up!" She digs her elbow into his side. "If it makes you feel any better, I'm sure he'd be really happy to know how you feel."

He smiles softly, Thank you.

Gordon wakes up to his pulse racing, nausea, blind-panic. He reaches out blindly and his hand hits a wall, he swings his arm and promptly knocks something across the small room. It is then that he realizes he is not alone in the room, and that the voice calling out his name is a familiar one. Before he ever recognizes it, his body is going limp, he begins to sob immediately. Gentle hands put his glasses on his face and he curls his hands around strong wrists. Barney is bleary above him due to tears. He looks so tired, dark circles under his eyes, scars and wrinkles, his grey-streaked hair disheveled and two days worth of beard-growth. He is the most beautiful person that Gordon has ever seen, he squeezes Barney's wrists a little harder, holding his hands still against his glasses, against the side of Gordon's face.

He can still hear Alyx's soft laugh, feel the ghost of pressure where her elbow had hit his side, except no, that's the wound pulling from the strain of his panicked breathing.

"You're safe, I've got you, you're safe Gordon."

His tears won't stop, his heart is going so fast, he can't breathe, looking up at Barney he drowns in his own guilt, his own pain. This was all his fault, every fucking part of it. His hands had pushed that fucking sample in, caused the Resonance Cascade that collapsed everything together and ended the world as they knew it, he was the fucking R.E.M song, it was him. Slash and burn, return, listen to yourself churn - fuck, god, what has he done? Oppenheimer had nothing on Gordon Freeman.

Barney pulls him up, wraps his arms around Gordon, less padding now without his Civil Protection armor but that just means that Gordon can feel the heat of him sinking through the layers of their shirts, the strong thick circle of his arms wrapped around him so tight. Barney whispers soft words into his ear, breath hot against his skin, and Gordon clutches to him like a life-line in the ocean of his own trauma. It isn't English, his burning brain informs him, and he clutches onto that fact. Focus, focus on the rhythm of words he has no hope of understanding, focus on this new data to trick his broken brain into leaving the panic behind.

"Amo-te com todo meu coração," Barney whispers, hand cupping the back of Gordon's neck, the other low on his back, chest to chest, and he's gently rocking him side to side, "meu coração é sempre seu."

Words flowing, and Gordon drags in each breath through painful burning lungs, one after another, until his chest matches the rise and fall of the one pressed to it. He shudders and collapses, held tighter still by the iron bracket of Barney's arms.

"Se eu fiz algo certo na minha vida," Drawing back, Barney's lips and words drag against Gordon's jaw, "foi quando eu dei o meu coração para você." The tears have stopped, and Gordon is breathless from his panic attack and the soft reverence of Barney's words, the raspy grasp that each syllable holds on his heart. He's in so deep, he's so scared, he doesn't know what to do with the stillness, with the pain turning him up inside, with the weight of his own love and the fragility of his own humanity. It was an accident, except it wasn't, orchestrated the whole way through, unforeseen consequences, except someone had known it all along, had set him up to take the fall and jump through every hoop.

Standing still in time and space and the anger that has kept him alive for so long, the rage that has burned in him for years, it's not enough to pull him through this moment. Barney's warm gaze, his strong arms, "You're safe, darling," that is enough to pull him through, "I'm right here."

Everything left behind, twenty years, six days. A whole world away from who he used to be, a whole two decades. A week ago he was a coward with his whole life ahead of him. Twenty years later and Barney has scars on his body and heart that Gordon wasn't there to protect his best friend from. Who has listened to Barney say he was right all along about aliens? Who has loved him while Gordon was sleeping? And if there has been no one? Does that make it worse that Gordon would step in now? Twenty years he left them all alone because he was the right man in the wrong place, and now Barney is comforting him.

I'm so sorry. For everything.

"You haven't done anything wrong, Gordon."

He's fucked up so much, so much that the eldritch-fuck-abomination took advantage of Alyx because he wasn't playing the good Agent of Cosmic Chaos. The Resonance Cascade and everything that had happened since, it was his fault for not out maneuvering the other pawns in this game of omniversal chess, and he was so sorry not that sorry would do fuck all.

I'll get her back, I'll fix everything, I'm so sorry.

Gordon watches Barney's heart break, no amount of age or change between them, nothing would be able to hide the emotion in his eyes. Gordon sinks under more guilt, building up that wall of pain and rage at himself, fuel for the fire in the hurt he'd caused Barney.

He feels Barney's hand tighten in his hair where a week ago there had been a ponytail until he'd cut it all off, the last thing to go in preparation for passing the final testing simulations. Barney moves his other hand to hold Gordon's jaw, his eyes heated and hard, "Listen to me, Gordon. This wasn't your fault, none of this was your fault. You didn't do this, you didn't take her, you didn't cause the shit to fly at Black Mesa. I was there, I was there too."

"It's time to let that go." Barney tells him, and Gordon wants to tell him it's too soon, but he can't. Not with Barney holding him so close, so intimately.

He tangles his hands in the front of Barney's shirt and falls into him, his words and his deep warm eyes, into his own love. Too strong to let twenty years matter, let alone six god-awful days. He loves him so much, he's loved him for so long, and he can't run from that anymore - no matter how awkward it makes things between them.

Barney loosens his grip and presses Gordon into the bed, laying down beside him, chest to hip, lowers Gordon's head to his chest. They lay tangled up on the slim cot and Gordon tangles himself around Barney even as Barney holds him tight. "You are so strong, Gordon. You've done more than any one man should ever have to." Soft words against his hairline.

"Close your eyes, think about those stars above Black Mesa. The cool desert air, feel me there with you?"

Gordon's eyes are shut tight, his ear to Barney's chest, a chin against the top of his head. They never laid like this together then, but he can feel him. The pinpricks of light from his eyes squeezed tight shut are the stars above them. He taps three times against Barney's chest, again with a pause, and then one final tap. Understood, he can see them, so clear that far out without light pollution from the city, most of Black Mesa's topside was dark this late at night.

"Nothing but us, no one else in the world." Barney is stroking his hair, petting his back, the steady beat of his pulse lulling him as much as the rumble of his words through the firm pillow of his chest. "Just the two of us here together, I'm not letting go, I've got you. It's time to rest Gordon. Up here far away from the rest of the world. Nothing to worry about, just us."

He is losing himself to the words and the picture Barney is painting with them. As White Forest fades there is just Barney and a nebulous desert sky. Bright stars and the promise of a future where he has all the time he needs to unravel secrets written in quantum code. He opens his eyes and the room comes back into focus but the steady core of hope burning in the painful prison of his chest remains, burns all the brighter to see Barney laying beneath him.

It's not too bad, after all. They're together again.

translations:

Amo-te com todo meu coração - I love you with all my heart

meu coração é sempre seu. - My heart is yours forever

Se eu fiz algo certo na minha vida, foi quando eu dei o meu coração para você. - If I did anything right in my life, it was when I gave my heart to you.

half-portuguese barney is @whitepointer 's HC and i love it and I love him okay thanks bye

[emerald-amidst-gold]

All Night Writeathon!

As the title suggests, I literally stayed up all night writing this little memory scene for a smutty one shot. I’m playing around with immersing Fane with more of the Inner Circle since he does develop a lot of meaningful relationships with most everyone, save for Cassandra and Bull (it takes Fane a very long time to warm up to Bull, even more so than with Cassandra).

But here! Have this ‘little’ excerpt that I may or may not tweak a few bits when I revise!

***

The dreaded sound of a wet squelch had Fane stopping dead in his tracks as he, Solas, Cole, and Varric traversed the corpse infested bog in search of the Inquisition patrol that had been kidnapped by Avvar. Solas and Cole were locked in one of their usual cryptic discussions, so Varric, of course, was the first to notice how he had halted in his lead. 

“You doing okay, Tempest?”, Varric called out to him, the sound of roaring rain and howling wind nearly obscuring it if it weren’t for Fane’s abnormal sense of hearing. 

Fane tilted his head up towards the stormy sky as he slowly, but furiously started to try to unearth where his boot was mired in shit. Of all the places to go, why had the Avvar chosen a blighted bog full of shitting animals?! Even his kin didn’t defecate like this! It was disgusting!

“I stepped in shit again.”, Fane growled, jerking his body more which only spurred him to sink in deeper. He blinked before snarling in irritation. “Oh, for fuck’s sake! The next bogfisher I see I’m going to fucking tear it apart and shit in its corpse!”

He heard Varric let out a poorly concealed snort, wet, stocky footsteps coming up to where he was trapped. Fane refused to turn his gaze down to Varric, knowing full well what the dwarf would be looking at him with. He was not in the mood for Varric’s bullshit, no pun intended!

Varric let out a whistle, tilting his head at Fane’s submerged boot. “I think you’re a little stuck there.”

Fane actively whipped his head down to glare daggers into the, as he thought, smiling dwarf, still attempting to dislodge himself with more jerks.

“What gave you that idea, dwarf?! Was it the fact that my entire calf is mired in fucking shit?! Or was it from the last time I got trapped, a groaning corpse attaching itself to my ankle before I nearly bit it in a pile of shit?! Either way, it leads back to shit!”, he snarled around irritated grunts as his attempts still fell flat. Why the hell couldn’t he get out?! It was like this pile of shit was a rift attempting to suck him in!

“That’s a lot of shit.”, Varric responded with a growing smirk, the dwarf attempting to keep his laughter at bay. “You know, this reminds me of a story--”

“Don’t.”, Fane warned, pointing with a gloved finger to exaggerate his disinterest before more footsteps approached. Oh, great. This was the absolute worst. Maybe he should just let himself be consumed by the sink hole of shit! At least it would save him from more mortification!

Fane saw Solas and Cole finally make their way up to where he and Varric were bickering back and forth, looking equally as drenched as he was. However, the two Fade minded companions still appeared to be locked in their own discussion until Fane saw Cole’s head perk up, hair curtained eyes locking onto where he was trapped. 

“It won’t let go. Warm, wrapped like a blanket, but not the good kind.”, Cole said simply, water pouring from his large brimmed hat as the spirit tilted his head curiously. “I didn’t know it could be like that. How does it hold so tightly?”, blue eyes travelling down to the pile of feces.

“The question for the age, kid.”, Varric told Cole with a growing smirk, still trying not to bust a gut as he kept his eyes on Fane. 

Fane let out an agitated groan at Cole and Varric’s words before hearing a familiar, but infuriating snort come from the man next to the kindly, curious spirit. Oh, here we go! Why had he decided to bring the trio of men who constantly found some way to exasperate him?! Well, Cole never meant to exasperate him, but the other two always did!

Emerald eyes which were deepening in hue from mounting frustration met humored blueish grey as Solas watched him struggle to free himself from the suctioning mound, mouth twitching with the urge not to smirk at his predicament. 

“Again, Inquisitor?”, Solas asked calmly, but Fane could hear the literal joke in the elf’s voice. 

Fane felt his eyebrow twitch as he snarled in response. “What do you mean ‘again’?!”

“I think he means that this is the..”, Varric chimed in, amber eyes looking up to the sky as the dwarf idly counted on his fingers before looking back to Fane. “..tenth time you’ve stepped in shit. Though, the fifth time wasn’t really your fault.”

“It wasn’t a teddy bear.”, Cole piped in, a small frown forming at the mention of the bear they had found off one of the mire’s diverging paths. 

“Definitely not, kid. More like a grizzly bear.”, Varric said with a small shiver. “Too bad we didn’t have a trusty warrior to shield us.”, a sigh escaping with a teasing tone as amber eyes glanced back up at Fane. “They must have had a lot of shit to deal with.”

“They must have fallen to a truly formidable foe.”, Solas unexpectedly joined in to his roasting, sighing with a light shrug. “..or rather, stepped into the path of one.”, stormy eyes glinting with guarded mischief as the regarded Fane, who was steadily growing more and more irate with the two’s teasing. 

“Are you two finished?!”, Fane snarled out darkly, feeling his boot give a little as he continued to twist and jerk his leg. “Or should I wipe those shit eating grins off your faces?!” Why did he always end up being humiliated in some capacity during an excursion!? If it wasn’t shit, it was some other unknown substance that reeked or squelched or moaned before he snuffed the life out of it!

“I think you should wipe the shit off your boot first, Tempest.”, Varric poked the fire more, starting to let out amused snorts. 

“I agree. I am sure it does not smell particularly pleasing.”, Solas poked the other side, raising a hand to stifle a snort with a light cough. 

Fane felt his face go deadpan as fiery rage roared within his soul, distant roaring making itself known within his mind as draconic instinct began to take flight. “Fuck the bogfishers. I think I’ll go for lesser prey. They scream louder.”, he said flatly as the flames burned past his deadened expression. 

Fane barely noticed the look of Cole’s eyes widening a bit, the spirit seemingly noticing something, as he instinctively went to pivot his body in an attempt to lunge at either Solas or Varric, who were both still trying to keep themselves in check. However, before he could even get into position, he heard a wet pop before he felt gravity take hold of his off balance frame. 

“Wha--?”, Fane uttered in question, eyes going wide before he fell face first into the pile of shit his foot had been trapped in, the contained momentum in his attempted pivot backfiring from his sheer weight twisting him too far. 

There was a dead, dead silence, save for the howling wind and steady downpour, as Fane’s mind tried to process what had happened. He was-- What the-- Did he really--?

“Shouldn’t he wipe his face first?”, Cole’s innocent question broke through the shocked silence before the raucous laughter of Varric finally burst forward, the dwarf unable to keep his mirth contained any longer as Fane slowly pushed himself up to hover above the offending mound. 

Fane stared down at the steaming pile of shit as Varric’s laughter rang throughout the bog, barely hearing soft footsteps with how loud it was and how red hot rage began to color his reeling mind. He was going to kill this dwarf! He would tear him apart! Rend the sky with dwarven bones! Level the ground with his corpse! Ripe his smirking, laughing face right off!

However, before Fane could even think to launch himself upwards to complete that promise, Solas came into view, crouching down to where he was on his hands and knees to give him a small, apologetic smile. 

“Are you okay, vhenan?”, Solas asked him, the endearment falling out without hesitation or shame. 

Fane wanted to bite back, to shove the concern away, but the depth of blue and grey that projected sincerity had his rage simmering down a few degrees. He was entirely too weak to this elf, but he supposed he really didn’t care. Especially since they both had finally closed the large rift that had separated them since Haven. That was worth any kind of childish teasing, or the irritation it could invoke.

Fane sighed as he lifted a leather gloved hand to wipe at his face, the heavy rain helping take off the heavier traces of shit. “Is it possible to burn my face, as well as my clothing?”

Solas chuckled softly, reaching into his pouch before pulling a strip of cloth from it. “It is possible, but I would advise against it.”, the cloth in the mage’s hand delicately being used to help him in his wiping. “However, a bath would be sufficient for purging your face and body of defecation.”

Fane let out a small hum at Solas’s touch before sighing longingly. “I would kill for a bath right now.”

“As long as it is not myself, Cole, or Varric, then you may ravage as you wish, but I do not believe it will afford you what you desire.”, Solas joked lightly, a thumb gingerly wiping under one of his eyes with the cloth. “However, though I cannot promise anything luxurious, I could heat up enough water for you to wipe yourself down until we return to Skyhold.”, Solas offered with a tiny smile, summoning a quick flame to dispose of the ruined cloth once he felt Fane’s visage was clear enough. 

Fane felt warm relief and affection fill him at that offer as he let a tiny smile of his own break through his tight mask. “I could kiss you right now.” He could never stay angry at his sky for long, could he? Not when Solas so obviously showed he cared for him. It may have taken a while to get to this point, but this was a milestone along the path, and he would not spurn it with petty anger.

“Unless you wish to be met with a barrier, ma’isenatha, I would suggest not.”, Solas teased with a small smirk before slowly rising to stand up straight. “Now, come. We should not linger lest Varric’s cackling awaken the corpses no doubt resting in the waters.” 

Fane sighed before pushing himself up into a kneeling position before vaulting himself up to his full height with a soft grunt. “I’m more worried about hidden shitty sinkholes than flimsy corpses.”

Solas gave him a small, but fond smile, and a tiny roll of his eyes before beginning to make his way back to where Varric was currently doubled over on the ground still cackling, and Cole confusedly hovering around him like a concerned little bird. Fane watched Solas go with a faint smirk before sighing lightly. The ‘fun’ was over. Thank goodness.

“Right. Back to work.”, he grumbled before crossing his arms, following after Solas slowly. “If you bust your intestines open, Varric, I am not putting them back in! Nor will I be the one to tell Hawke and Fenris you died because I fell in shit!”

“Hawke d..did the same thing at Chateau Haine! H..He’d get it!”, Varric wheezed out, pounding the ground with a fist as another bout of laughter took hold. 

Fane rolled his eyes as he stood next to Solas, sighing heavily. “Are all dwarves like this?”

“Not from my experience, but Varric is not like most dwarves.”, Solas said, glancing up at him with a small smirk. 

“Right.”, Fane said, pushing against the inside of his cheek with his tongue before a thought popped into his head, a smirk turning the corner of his mouth upwards. “He’s a shit dwarf.”

“H..Hey! I--!”, Varric started to defend around coughing laughs before pausing to think. “..You know what? You’re right, and I take the compliment!”, he exclaimed, finally starting to calm down as he pushed himself off the soaked ground. 

“Good. Because that’s the only compliment you’re getting for the day.”, Fane stated before uncrossing his arms. “Alright. Fun and games are over. Time to go hunt down some Avvar.”

“Maybe you’ll fell them with your mighty stench, oh Inquisitor!”, Varric proclaimed with a few slight wheezes.

Fane took a deep breath through his nose, coughing a bit when his aforementioned ‘stench’ made itself known. Just what he needed.

“If I don’t fall first that is.”, Fane mumbled out with a small sneer before turning away to motion for the others to follow. “Come on. After that whole ordeal, I really want to get back to Skyhold so I can just burn myself with scalding water.”

“Wouldn’t that hurt?”, Cole asked with a bit of concern.

“It is a figure of speech, Cole.”, Solas assuaged the compassionate spirit’s worry with a reassuring smile. 

“Speeches don’t have figures..”, the spirit mumbled in confusion before Fane heard Solas begin to explain, but tuned it out as he stared at the expanse of the mire before them, idly noticing distant corpses shambling about and bogfishers, who were shitting as they spoke. 

Fane let out a tired groan, massaging his temples with his thumb and middle finger. 

“I need a bath. An indefinite one.”

***

Suffice it to say, Fane didn’t like the Fallow Mire. Nor did he like all the damn bogfishers that would be aggroed from wayward lightning! *begins to project onto her OC*