#typing this out and realizing I’m not sure if I’m food secure

[disasterhimbo]

Starting to feel kinda bitter whenever anyone mentions being able to afford hobbies that require money or being able to buy art/collect things, that’s probably not a good sign :/

[aealzx]

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Prologue Next

_______________________

“We’ve secured the suspected meta.”

“Copy that. Red Hood, do you have eyes on the last of them?”

“Not yet, but I’m pretty sure she’s in this apartment.”

Several months ago a group of unpredictable rogues had popped up in Gotham. Nothing unusual for the city, other than they appeared to be a group of teenagers who were both criminals and heroes. Stolen goods of various types ranging from common camping supplies, food, and clothing, to an odd assortment of medical supplies and technology. Assaulted police, other heroes and vigilantes given the slip. And yet there were also many criminals dealt with that hero teams couldn’t account for who was responsible. The main lead they had gotten was the suspected meta human. A girl with white hair that could fly, phase through walls, and various other super human feats. She had been the first lead they could latch onto, and from there they had built profiles on the other three. The oldest girl appeared to be in her late teens, another girl just a few years younger, a boy the same age as the second girl, and then the metahuman, younger than all of them. They had been more of a curiosity than a serious threat. Until they had stolen something from the wrong people and painted a target on their heads. Now they were in a cross between a rescue and capture mission as the team only known as The Phantoms were being raided by pissed off crooks.

The three youngest had already been caught by the rest of the team sent by Batman, it was only the eldest girl that remained. And unless Tim could pull off a miracle Jason only had ten minutes to find her before the planted bomb destroyed the building they’d been hiding in.

With Barbara’s help he and a few of the others had searched the entire apartment building, checking each room for the remaining Phantom and placing eyes where they’d been to make sure she didn’t give them the slip and run to somewhere they’d already been. Jason had just slammed through the front door of one more apartment when he’d answered Barbara’s question, a scattering of food wrappers in a trash pile, a small cook top, sleeping areas, and other items for basic needs betraying recent habitation. It was a good hint that this was where the Phantoms had stationed, especially with the scrabbled together computer workstation setup off to one side.

There were only three other doors in the apartment, and Jason moved to the first one quickly. A closet near the front door. Empty. A bathroom across from the front room. Also empty. Which meant the last room, the bedroom, had to be where she was, if she was there.

Jason flung the door open and promptly caught the crowbar that was swung at his face, accompanied by a near frantic screech from the girl he’d been looking for

“Got her,” Jason announced to the comms, deftly yanking the crowbar out of the girl’s hands and tossing it to the side. “Begin evacuation, I’ll be out in - ….. Shit.”

As Jason spoke to Barbara and the rest of the team he decidedly ignored the girl’s demands for him to get out, having to block a fist thrown his way. He’d noticed she was obviously distressed, tears marking her dirty cheeks and a fierce glare directed his way. It wasn’t unexpected considering she was the last of her team they didn’t have in custody; she must have felt any myriad of emotions ranging from despair at failing to fear that they would hurt her. Yet Jason quickly noticed something that made him cuss mid report, and realize the girl's actions weren’t out of defiance, but protectiveness.

“There’s five of them,” Jason reported, finger pressing to his comm and eyes locked onto the new figure that hadn’t been part of any of their intel. And for a good reason. The lad was unconscious on a cot, one of the stolen items in the team’s list, and he didn’t look good. If it weren’t for the shallow, shuddering breaths from him Jason would have thought he were already dead, his skin ghastly pale other than fever flushed cheeks. “There’s another boy, heavily injured. I’m bringing them both out, have someone standing by.”

“DON’T TOUCH HIM!”

Of course the girl heard his report, and renewed her efforts to fight Jason, blocking him from reaching the fifth member. They didn’t have time to converse gently though, and so Jason grabbed her arm and yanked her forward. “Listen! I’m not going to hurt you, I’m trying to rescue you. There’s a bomb! We have to get out of the building, and get him to a hospital.”

The girl was smart. Or at least not dumb enough to ignore Jason’s words completely, for she froze the moment he mentioned the bomb. “...What?” she asked, wide eyes locking onto him, daring him to trick her.

“Look, you guys trying to steal Lazarus water pissed off the wrong people. They planted a bomb, and my team and I are here to rescue you. We can talk about your crime runs later, alright?” Jason explained a little more, really not wanting to have to knock the girl out too just to get the two to a safe area if he could help it.

The way the girl’s eyes opened, a horrified gasp escaping her, told Jason she wasn’t a bad person. Or at least reinforced what their actions aside from theft had suggested. That was the reaction of someone who realized they’d made a mistake, and felt the weight bearing down from the mess that had been caused because of it. She stopped trying to fight Jason now, pulling away and rushing to the 5th member’s side, grabbing his limp arm and hooking it around her own shoulders to try and lift him up.

“Is he safe to move?” Jason asked, stepping forward to help. Even though the lad looked fairly small, he was still too heavy for the girl judging by how she was struggling to even get him upright. “His spine isn’t hurt? No broken bones?” he asked to clarify when the girl looked at him with a question half voiced.

“No. Nothing broken, just the-” she confirmed, cutting off when Jason reached forward and effortlessly scooped the frail teen up.

“Hold onto my back. We’re going that way,” Jason directed, ignoring the way she tensed, holding herself back from demanding he not touch her friend, and nodding towards the window.

“WhAT?” the girl sputtered, hands jerking as she internally wrestled with being obedient to him or her own sense of self preservation.

“We’re out of time. Just grab on,” Jason half snapped, roughly kicking the window to shatter the glass, twisting his frame to shield the lad in his arms as well, just in case. “One minute,” he added, repeating what Barbara announced in his comms to reinforce his directions.

It was enough. Pursing her lips and giving a soft whimper the girl rushed forward to throw her arms around his shoulders from behind, clinging to him with a death grip. Jason wished he had a better way to carry both of them, but he hadn’t been expecting there to be two of them in the first place. So he could only hope the girl’s grip was strong enough to hang on as he shot a zip line towards where the others were gathered. After getting the other end secured to the building they were in, Jason latched the clip on the rope and swung over the fire escape, curling his legs up to make sure the lad he was carrying had plenty of support. He could hear a muffled, drawn out squeak from the girl on his back, but didn’t comment.

“Wh- Ja- DANNY! LET HIM GO YOU-” the mid teenage girl caught sight of them first, snarling and trashing against her restraints when she saw who Jason had. Cass refused to let her go though, pulling her back to kneeling and considering pushing her down further if necessary. She didn’t get to finish her protests though.

“HEADS DOWN!” Dick shouted after Barbara announced a second to detonation, and those who had capes were throwing them over their targets and each other, hunching over to bodily protect them from the cascades of blasts ripping through the apartment building the Phantoms had been stationed in. They were far enough away that they shouldn’t get hurt from the collapsing rubble, but there was still the possibility of smaller debris getting thrown at them. So they remained huddled on the ground a safe distance away until the rubble settled, and only when it stopped shifting did they stand again.

“Oracle, status on the inbound units?” Dick was the first to speak, the others giving sighs of relief and partially relaxing.

The two middle teenage children had quieted significantly after the explosion, the boy looking at the rubble in shock as he realized they would have been caught in it if it weren't for the group of vigilantes that had captured them. And the girl held a similar period of stunned silence before she started kicking at Cass again. “Get off me! Get your filthy hands off Danny!”

“Sam, it’s okay.” The eldest girl spoke with a shaking voice, slipping off Jason’s back and leaning her head against him in a moment of despair. Cass’s hand froze where it had been about to knock out chop her feisty captive, blinking and looking up instead. So the middle teen’s name was Sam? And the unconscious lad was Danny?

“The meta is waking up. Should I dose her again?” That was Damian, keeping an eye on the youngest Phantom. She was starting to stir, but the eldest Phantom spoke up before the others could.

“Don’t. Please. They’ve been through enough. Just please bring her over here, I’ll manage her,” the eldest girl directed. Her voice was still shaking, but it had steadied somewhat after Jason had turned slightly while remaining crouched to allow her to sit next to their 5th member, her hand resting on his cheek as she was gathering the breaking pieces of her determination.

Stephanie and Cass only exchanged looks with each other, and also Dick and Tim, before Jason spoke up. “Just bring her over. She might be more docile when she’s near this one.”

They didn’t seem completely convinced, but Stephanie at least complied, moving to crouch on one knee with the youngest girl while Damian hovered nearby with another dose of sedatives.

“You’re doing the right thing kid. When the cops get here with the paramedics they’ll get Danny taken care of. You don’t have to worry,” Jason encouraged the eldest girl, grateful that she was getting her team to behave.

“They can’t take him,” she rejected, catching the rest off guard.

“What? Look if it’s about money don’t worry, it’ll be taken care of,” Jason insisted, hoping it wasn’t because of a different possibility he was quickly starting to consider. He’d thought it was just his imagination, but Danny was unusually cold to the touch. Almost like ice. There was another common reason he knew people avoided hospitals despite being this injured.

The eldest girl shook her head again. “It’s not that it’s….” she paused, seeming both reluctant to tell them but also not sure how to tell them what was going on. She wasn’t even sure what was wrong. But when the youngest teen groaned and started to shift the eldest looked at her and found her answer. “Danny is like Danielle. Doctors can’t help them. They’re too different.”

That’s what Jason thought, but it didn’t mean he wanted to hear it, and it earned an understanding but frustrated groan from him and some of the others. “Shit. Alright,“ Dick took charge of the situation, hissing slightly and reaching to his own comms. “Oracle, where’s the nearest safe house? The 5th member is another potential meta, unconscious, and heavy bandaging over the whole torso. Can you contact home and have Penny-one or The Doctor on standby?”

As Dick took care of directing the team, Jason took care of keeping their tentative ally willing to listen to them. “We might have some contacts that can help. We have friends that also need more attention that the regular doctor can give them. Do you kids have names we can use?”

It was more of a lead than they’d had since they’d gotten stranded there, so the eldest teen seemed hesitant but hopeful to grab onto it. After a moment of thinking, her other hand reaching out to Danielle as she started to blink her eyes open, she responded. “My name is Jazz. This is my little brother Danny, my little sister Dani with an I, and our friends Sam and Tucker.”

“... Your parents gave your little siblings the same name?” Jason couldn’t help asking after hearing the relationships. That also explained a lot about why Jazz had been so frantically protective of Danny, aside from her being the oldest of the group.

“It’s… a long story,” Jazz admitted, grimacing a little. “Danielle… was unexpected.”

Looked like Jazz didn’t quite trust them enough. That was fine, they didn’t need a whole backstory right off. Oracle could probably figure it out easily now that she had names and relations. “Fair enough,” Jason dismissed with a grunt, ending his conversation as Dick approached them.

“Hey. There’s a whole mess of stuff going on, I know, but right now we’re going to focus on making sure everyone is taken care of, and then we can figure out the rest of the mess later, okay?” Dick started, leaning low with his hands on his knees and speaking gently. “The police and paramedics can take care of the criminals that were hunting you, but since he’s a special case we’re going to move to a different location where we’ll give everyone a check up. Sound good?”

Jazz didn’t jump at the offer, but they could see she saw promise in it, and hesitantly nodded. “My friends and I stay together at all times. Got it?” she demanded.

“Sure,” Dick agreed, not seeing any issue with that. “But we’ll keep the restraints on if necessary, alright? You all still have charges of assault after all.”

It was easy to see Jazz’s expression fall significantly at the reminder, as though her soul had been slightly crushed. “Yeah… okay,” she agreed, swallowing some nausea that had churned her stomach at being reminded they were criminals. Then, before Danielle could fuss too much, Jazz turned to rest a hand on the small girl’s arm. “Dani, these guys have agreed to help us. So behave and don’t pick any fights unless I say otherwise, alright?”

The fist that Danielle had prepared to punch her holder didn’t move, and after a moment Danielle groaned in reluctant relent. “Guhhhh can I at least punch the guy who drugged me? I feel awful.”

The comment earned a weak chuckle from Jazz, and she patted Danielle’s arm. “I’ll think about it. Just rest for now. We’re moving to a safe place.” She hoped she wasn’t lying to Danielle, and that these people would actually, finally give them the help they needed.

________________

I guess I go here now =v=;;;

Partially inspired by this post. But not including everything because there's a lot of stuff I don't understand. |D This just got stuck in my head so hard I couldn't work on anything else.

[scottiexmariee]

omg ive been highly enjoying ur fics and hcs!!! i think u wrote their characters very spot on 🥺 the jail one got me thinking... can i request the lads boys reacting to the reader getting in trouble after punching someone. bc someone talked shit about the boys and wanted to defend their honor or smth lmfao ty!!! 💕

omg anon lemme kiss u on the forehead 

I almost did a backflip when I read this, I was so happy to write it. This one took a bit longer to write so I do apologize, but I was reeeeally on a mission to deliver some good plot here

Some are a bit longer (coughSyluscough) but I really hope you enjoy <3

Defending Their Honor

Pairings: Xavier x Reader | Zayne x Reader | Rafayel x Reader | Sylus x Reader

Word Count: 3.9k (oops)

Warnings: Fluff. Angst. Lore references. Reader throwing hands. FEELINGS. Soft Sylus. -Scottie is allergic to happiness.

Masterlist

Note: I got possessed when I wrote Sylus' and probably should have made him his own fic. I am not sorry. It is longer than the others. I am bashing my head against the keyboard. Please forgive me.

☆ “While I’m honored, you didn’t have to do that on my behalf,”

☆ ^ Giggling and kicking his feet on the inside though

☆ He’d also return the favor with no hesitation if the situation was ever reversed

☆ ^ You will NOT diss his lady in his presence

☆ Y’all are def cuddling for the rest of the night as soon as you get home

Xavier really needed to learn to stop taking his eyes off of you when the two of you were out in public. 

The two of you had gone on a fun little outing to Linkon’s version of a pop-up carnival. There were games, food vendors, live music, and tons of people. He knew how badly you’d wanted to go, so of course you nearly jumped right into his arms when he showed up at your apartment after lunch and told you to get ready.

So far, it had been good. The two of you had played a couple games, won some prizes, even took chances with a few questionable rides. You had walked around, hand in hand, enjoying each other’s presence and making new memories together.

It had been seconds. Seconds. You were both, unsurprisingly, hungry after walking around for a few hours. Xavier, being the knight in shining armor that he is, had walked up to one of the nearby food vendors to grab a snack for the two of you, innocently leaving you near a blue park bench. When he finished, you had disappeared. 

He stared at the now empty park bench, snacks in hand, completely baffled. He did a quick scan of the area, only to see a bunch of people he didn’t know, and someone being escorted to the exit by two security officers.

But that person almost looked like they were wearing the same outfit as you.

Xavier squinted. Surely not, right?

He caught up quickly, nearly stumbling when his suspicions were confirmed. That was absolutely you being dragged to the front of the park.

He lagged behind quietly, saying nothing, but already accepting the fact that your fun carnival date was apparently over. 

You were given a verbal warning and kicked out of the park, being told not to come back for the remainder of this year’s visit. If you came back, it would be trespassing.

You were getting ready to text Xavier when you realized he was right in front of you, nibbling on some type of skewer he’d gotten from the vendor. “Sooo…” He began, eyeing you curiously.

“I may or may not have slapped someone,”

His eyes immediately widened, his mind running through every possible scenario. 

“What happened? Did someone touch you?” He reached out and grabbed your wrist, eyes scanning every inch of exposed skin for injuries. 

“No! No, it’s….nothing like that,” 

His eyebrows furrowed. “Then….?”

Suddenly, you were a bit embarrassed. It had been so stupid. How was he even going to react to this?

When Xavier had left you by the bench, a man that looked to be around your age approached and asked for your number.

“I know you just saw me with someone.”

“So?”

“Not interested,”

“Why? Because of that loser? You could do better.”

That was it. That was the reason you’d backhanded the disrespect right out of that man’s bloodline. 

Xavier was….so many things. Incredibly kind, thoughtful, and just so deliciously him. You adored him the same way he adored you, and had him on a pedestal that no one could even close to touching. You could do better? Not possible. There was not a soul in this galaxy that was better than Xavier. At least, not to you.

Hearing someone speak lowly of him when you truthfully couldn’t even articulate how incredible he was? Yeah, instant slap. 

You kept your explanation short. “Some guy called you a loser,” You said, rubbing your arm sheepishly. 

Xavier almost giggled. 

“So….you slapped him?” 

You pressed your lips into a thin line, the reality of how out-of-pocket the whole thing was finally setting in.

Surprisingly, Xavier laughed. It was soft, filled with fondness and mirth. He pulled you into a loving embrace, placing a soft kiss on the top of your forehead. He'd be lying to the both of you if he said he wouldn't do something similar.

“I’m honored,” He began, his voice muffled by your hair, “but you don’t have to slap people on my behalf,”

“I’ll always defend you, whether you’re in the room or not,” You responded, your tone firm and completely serious. 

Xavier stood there for a moment, arms wrapped around you still, feeling like the luckiest guy alive. The thought of you backhanding someone for calling him something as simple as a loser was almost hysterical, yet it filled him with a warmth he couldn’t explain. You were really something else. 

After a moment, he pulled back, interlacing his fingers with yours. “Let’s go. There’s plenty of time left for us to turn this night around,”

❅ okay listen I love Zayne

❅ but he's kinda emotionally constipated sometimes (at least on the OUTSIDE)

❅ the logical side of him wants to scold you and tell you that this wasn't necessary

❅ but the emotional side, the side that is harder for him to articulate, is lowkey flattered that you'd go that far to defend his name

Zayne slowly paced back and forth in the lobby of the city’s police station, the only sounds in the room being the tap of his shoes on the linoleum floor and the ticking of a clock on the wall. He glanced toward the clock. It had been 20 minutes since he’d come to retrieve you, and he was growing impatient. 

The two of you were in another city for an awards banquet. You’d come along simply to support Zayne, your absolute favorite person in existence (who just so happened to be an incredible Doctor that was receiving multiple awards for his work).

Imagine Zayne’s surprise when the banquet ended and he couldn’t find you anywhere. It was extremely out of character for you to disappear when it came to things like this, especially while you were in an unfamiliar place. This wasn’t Linkon. You wouldn’t have simply left without so much as a ‘congratulations’, not to mention that Zayne had been your ride here. 

By the third time your phone had gone to voicemail, Zayne was nervous. That was when he started asking around. He’d pulled up a photo of you, showing it to various employees and asking if anyone had happened to see you leave. 

It was a security guard that told him you’d been arrested.

He left immediately, having the directions already pulled up before he made it out to the car. 

Now, he paced, an amalgamation of concern, confusion, and stress. 

A buzzing sound emanated from somewhere down the hall, and Zayne’s head whipped toward the sound to see you being led out by an officer, still wearing the outfit that matched his tie color. 

The red knuckles weren’t easy to miss. 

While he did still open the car door for you, he chose a tactical silence for the duration of the car ride. There wouldn’t be a single word spoken until you were back in the hotel room. This was a calculated method by Zayne. He knew you’d be absolutely squirming by the time you guys made it back, and that was exactly what he wanted. 

The door to your shared room clicked shut behind Zayne, who’d entered behind you. He leaned against it, folding his arms over his chest. He raised an expectant eyebrow at you, his eye flitting between your flustered face and reddened knuckles on your dominant hand. 

It was hard to take him seriously when he looked that handsome in a tux.

“I…may have overreacted,” You finally said, your voice coming out timid. 

“Can you go anywhere without picking a fight?” He responded, his tone exasperated. 

You swallowed. 

“I can…”

Zayne took a steadying breath. He moved from the door and took a seat on the edge of the bed. “Tell me what happened,”

You had been out looking at all of the posters on the wall, reading the lists of different accomplishments and awards printed under each attendee, waiting for the banquet to end. Zayne had already received his awards, but was still backstage and not allowed to leave. Some of the audience, including you, had stepped out of the auditorium throughout the banquet. You had originally just wanted some air. The auditorium had been stuffy, and the fancy outfit you had on was not helping. 

While you were out admiring the different posters, you heard a woman making some pretty rude comments about the poster she and her friends were in front of. At first, you just scoffed. You couldn’t imagine being so bitter. Was it so hard to be supportive of others, even if they weren’t the one you came for?

And then, you realized which poster she was standing in front of. 

Zayne.

Imagine this: You happen to be involved with an incredibly smart, talented, and stunning man that just so happens to be a Chief Cardiac Surgeon at only 27 years old. The same man that has made evolutionary discoveries and progress in treating cardiac abnormalities. The same man that you absolutely adored, and wanted nothing but the absolute best for. All of this is great, right? Now imagine hearing someone say something completely horrible about him right in front of you.

At first, the confrontation had started off as just a scolding. You’d told the woman that it wasn’t right to say horrible things about the attendees. They all did such incredible things that they were receiving awards for, after all. This was not the place for such behavior. 

And then, she just….kept going. 

Before long, you’d quickly ended the conversation with an abrupt bitch-slap. Security had already been approaching when your hand connected with her face. You weren’t going to tell Zayne this, but you’d actually gotten tackled. 

You gave Zayne the shortened version of the story, leaving out all of the gushing. 

Initially, he was quiet again as he tried to process what you’d just told him. 

Lady. Talking bad. Zayne. Slap.

For a moment, he couldn’t understand why you’d even resort to that. But when he looked at you, looking at him with eyes full of love and respect, he softened a little. While he didn’t necessarily agree with your methods, who was he to dictate how a person should react to any scenario?

He patted the spot next to him, still trying to form an appropriate response. You sat willingly, leaning into his side. He looped an arm around your waist. 

You sat in silence for a few minutes longer before he finally spoke. 

“The logical part of me should scold you, (Y/N). That was a bit overboard,” 

You looked up at him. His words implied that the logical part of him wasn’t the one that was winning whatever internal battle he had going on. “And what does the other part of you think?”

He sighed, pressing his forehead against yours. “Truthfully?”

You nodded, nearly melting at the sudden affection. His lips showed the faintest hint of a smile. “Truthfully, I’m flattered,”

❀yk how Raf blushes and pouts when you do the Heartbeat interaction??

❀ yeahhhh

❀ but also.....feelings

When Rafayel learned you’d been thrown out of his newest exhibition, he was initially pretty offended. He didn’t even want to be there to begin with. You were the only reason he’d forced himself to come, though he’d never admit it out loud. He had an arsenal of complaints ready to fire off the second he met you outside, after he reasoned with security, of course. 

It was Thomas who had weaved through the crowd, placed an urgent hand on Rafayel’s shoulder, and leaned close to speak for only the artist’s ears: “Security just dragged (Y/N) out of here. She hit someone,” 

The confrontation had luckily gone mostly unnoticed. It happened quick, and security had whisked you out. You’d gone willingly, and the man you’d struck no longer felt like sticking around either. 

Somewhere during the short walk from the back of the building to the front doors, your reason for lashing out had gotten lost in translation. Rafayel was under the impression that you’d thrown hands because someone had dissed his art. 

That, however, was an unfortunate misunderstanding. 

It wasn’t his art that the man had described as ‘worthless.’ It was Rafayel. 

Rafayel had smooth-talked security into letting you come back inside, with the condition that you would not be a problem for the remainder of the night. 

Rafayel had been flattered, but definitely thought you’d overreacted. 

“Not everyone can say they have a bodyguard this protective over art,” He teased, casting an amused glance in your direction. “Think we can make it through the rest of today without another attack?” 

You’d rolled your eyes, still a bit peeved. Who the hell comes to an exhibit specifically to dog the artist, anyway? “That’s not even what happened,” You grumbled. 

“People critique art all the tiiime. That doesn’t mean they should get assaulted over it,” 

“It’s different,” 

“I’m just saying. I’ve never punched anyone at an art gallery. Maybe you’re taking the Bodyguard title too seriously,” 

“Rafayel. You were the art,” 

Rafayel came to an abrupt stop, the air seemingly vanishing from his lungs. He’d heard you. He’d definitely heard you. His brain, however, was doing backflips, struggling to process your last sentence. 

You were the art. 

The gears clicked into place, his cheeks burning hotter and hotter with each passing second. In all honesty, he was conflicted. He was torn between the all-encompassing warmth, the feeling of being appreciated and thought so highly of that you would deck someone in the face purely for speaking ill on his name. The other half of him felt almost bitter. 

You were that same silly girl with a bad memory. And yet, here you were, fighting someone off of instinct when they said something nasty about him. 

You could do that, yet there was so much you couldn’t remember.

He was in a war with his thoughts and emotions, and unbeknownst to you, you were once again the cause. 

He finally collected himself, masking the emotional roller coaster he’d just been on with a chuckle. He patted the top of your head, settling on a teasing comment rather than risking opening the floodgates. 

“You’re so weird, Miss Bodyguard,” 

Rafayel would end up finding you in every lifetime, over and over again, no matter the cost. He’d remember every promise, every touch, every stolen moment. Yet, in every single timeline, you always found a way to make his head spin and his heart do cartwheels in his chest. 

This would forever stick out as one of those moments.  

⟡ Soft Sylus.

⟡ Soft Sylus.

⟡ SOFT SYLUS.

Sylus had invited you to tag along on yet another negotiation. He’d claimed he just liked having you at his side, but he truthfully respected your input more than he’d admit out loud. He’d often bring you along under the guise of keeping him company, but would subtly pay attention to your body language and facial expressions. If you weren’t going to bite, neither was he. 

After the first negotiation you attended, you as Sylus’ +1 became a much more frequent occurrence. As long as he was in the room, your safety was guaranteed. Not to mention how a lot of potential deals went off a little smoother when you were in the room to ease the tension. 

Today, the two of you were headed to a hotel a few cities away to meet with a man named Michael. You didn’t have many details about the deal, but you had the basics. If there was anything you needed to know, Sylus would tell you. 

It had taken you exactly 6 seconds after entering the room to decide that you did not like Michael. There was just something about him that had already gotten on your nerves. The arrogance? The ‘up-to-no-good’ vibe he absolutely reeked of?  The way he looked at the two of you like you were nothing more than pests the moment you walked in? 

While it was just you and Sylus on your side of the bargain, Michael had 6 armed guards scattered through the room, which added to your irritation. Michael was clearly a man that thrived off intimidation, yet was too cowardly to have an even playing field. 

Sylus never lost his nonchalance. He strode in like he had nothing to lose, suave and unbothered. He kept a hand pressed lightly against the small of your back as he guided you to a seat, a silent reassurance that everything would be fine.

The meeting had began, but not without Sylus catching how your mood had soured considerably within the first 10 minutes. 

The more Michael talked, the shadier the whole ordeal seemed. He was boasting about some modified protocore that was the ‘best on the market,’ and trying to goad Sylus into purchasing it. 

Sylus wasn’t dumb by any means. But Sylus was also a man that would humor someone for his own entertainment. “Show it to me,” He said, his tone even.

One of the guards gestured for Sylus to follow, and he immediately turned to you, waiting for you to come as well. Instead, you shook your head. You didn’t want to risk being ambushed when you came back if both of you left. Sylus trusted your judgment, knowing that he would be gone for less than 5 minutes. With a quiet “Behave,” cast in your direction, he disappeared with the guard. 

The second the door shut behind him, Michael turned to one of his guards and said something you probably weren’t supposed to hear.  “I’m going to walk that bastard like a dog, just watch.” 

Oh? 

In hindsight, it would have been better to keep your mouth shut. All you had to do was give Sylus a signal when he returned, and he would call this off with no hesitation. Your opinion mattered, after all. He didn’t just bring you to these meetings to serve as eye candy. Knowing this, you should have just brushed Michael’s comment off. However, it had gotten under your skin in a way you couldn’t shake off. The words were leaving your mouth before you could stop them.

“I’d like to see you try,” 

Michael, and all 5 of his remaining guards, immediately looked at you as if locking onto a target. The tension in the room intensified considerably.

Michael scoffed, looking at you as if you were a bug he’d stepped on. You glanced toward the door Sylus had stepped out of moments before, half expecting him to be standing there with an amused smirk on his face. He wasn’t, though.

Michael was on his feet, taking slow steps toward the chair you were sitting in. Despite the shaking in your fingers, you stayed put. “You must think so highly of him,” He drawled, zeroing in on you. “I didn’t know a man like that could catch the attention of a pretty thing like you,”

You didn’t know why, but your anger was rising with each passing second. The implication of his words was clear, but you wanted to hear him say it. It was obvious that he thought of himself higher than Sylus, and clearly didn’t have many polite thoughts about him. You and Sylus weren’t necessarily a… ‘thing,’ per se. Not yet, anyway.  So why did this piss you off so badly?

“A man like what?” You challenged, staring up at Michael. In your lap, your hands, that had been neatly folded, were slowly clenching into fists.

Michael's mouth twisted into a wolfish, arrogant grin. “I’d say he takes up more space than he’s worth. Cocky, foolish, insufferable–”

Your fist had connected with his jaw before he could get another word out, sending him stumbling backwards, clutching his jaw as he tried to regain his footing. 

It would take you about a week to fully process how the next 15 seconds had gone.

At first, the silence was so intense that you could audibly hear the rapid beat of your own heart.

Then, guns were raised and pointed directly at you. 5 from the guards, all at separate angles, and one directly in front of you from Michael himself. 

Next, gunfire. A lot of gunfire. Multiple shots ringing out from 6 different directions. 

You weren’t exactly sure when Sylus had entered, but he apparently had the timing of a God. You’d been whisked out of harm's way, somehow completely uninjured. You realized later that he likely used his evol somewhere in the mix.

Once safely away from the hotel, Sylus turned to face you, lips set in a thin line but his expression otherwise neutral. He studied you for a long moment. 

“That went well,” He said, his tone lacking any amusement. “Should I not trust you enough to leave you unattended for two minutes?”

You folded your arms over your chest. You didn’t trust the sound of your voice yet. You knew you owed him an explanation, but the adrenaline was still too high and you were still too angry to speak.

Sylus checked you for any injuries and then, to your surprise, grabbed your chin, tilting your head up to look at him.  

“You need to be more careful who you pick fights with,” He warned. His tone was firm, but not unkind. He knew you were more than capable of handling yourself. It was one of the things he appreciated about you. However, the fight today had left a bitter taste in his mouth. This was the first time he hadn’t been in the room the entire time. It could have been a lot worse, and you weren’t bulletproof. This was the first time he’d left you alone for more than 30 seconds, and it had ended with you in a shootout. 

“Maybe he shouldn’t have been talking shit about you the second you walked away,” You retorted, your voice coming out bitter. “Right in front of me. It was just…disrespectful.”

Sylus, who had assumed Michael had started it on his own, was stunned. For the first time in a long time, he didn’t have any quips or sarcastic comments to make. That was what had caused the fight? You, the same person that used to look at him with so much distrust and caution, had thrown yourself into a fight to defend his name while he wasn’t in the room. 

Sylus was silent for a moment, his eyes combing your face for any hint of deception. When your words finally sank in, he nearly melted on the spot. The adoration he’d already felt was intensified. The warmth he felt in his chest was almost too much, and he wasn’t sure whether he should scold you or kiss you. 

Instead, he gently tugged you against his chest, choosing to simply hold you for a moment. It felt like the only correct option. His chin rested against the top of your head, one arm looped around your back as the other cradled your head. He was absolutely flattered, and outrageously smitten.

Yeah, he had it bad. 

“Just when I think I have you figured out, you go and do something else that surprises me,” He murmured fondly, rubbing small circles into your back. You were an endless mystery to him. But as he stood there, holding you against him, he knew he’d happily spend the rest of his life trying to figure you out. 

Note: 1.4k words just for Sylus I am SO SORRY but I needed this man getting all soft with this prompt slkdhjsalkhd 

[angelic-wh0re]

Out like a light >ᵥ_ᵥ<

Boxer!Eren Yeager x Onyankopon lil sis!black fem reader

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Your big brother, Onyankopon, was a well-renowned fighter in the boxing industry, winning belt after belt due to his exceptional skill. You were proud of him, especially considering the hardships you both endured for him to reach this point.

There's a twelve-year age difference between you, with him being 34 and you being 22. Since the moment you were born, Ony has been the one taking care of you because your emotionally unavailable parents felt they didn’t need to. He stole for you, bought you food, and ensured your education by enrolling you in tutoring programs under your parents' name to secure your graduation, admission to a good university, and a high-paying job. Fighting was how he made his money.

When it came to you, Ony didn’t play, so you could only imagine his face when he sees a video of his main opponent basically flirting with you at a coffee shop.

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Today was a very slow day for you. Your lectures were stupidly long and boring, your friends were all busy, AND on top of all that you dropped a cookie you were eating in a puddle when you were walking to class. Now you find yourself working on a assignment for your chemistry class in a coffee shop.

As you were working, you heard a large commotion coming from the entrance of the store. Turning to see what it was, you were blinded by flashing lights emanating from the front windows of the store. Deciding not wanting to have these lights in your eyes, you turned back and continued working.

After about 30 minutes you grew hungry. Cursing yourself out for not getting any food before hand, you made your way to the register. On the way there, you got a notification on your phone causing you to look at it.

Sash 🫡 :

YALL WANNA HANGOUT LATER????

Y/n 💞 :

oh so when I ask if y’all want to hang y’all don’t wanna respond 🙄🙄 (oh and sure>.<)

Con 🤓 :

thats because you be asking us at the most god forsaken hours😒

As you were typing out your response, you bumped into someone. (cliché i know but y’all bare with me 🙏) “Oh I’m sorry..” you say before you see a cake pop fall to the ground. Now you were really sorry. The man in front of you groaned in frustration. “Watch where you’re goin-“ he paused when he turned around. Staring at you as if he was lost for words.

“I’m so sorry. Please let me buy you another one.” You offer. An unexpected low “Damn” fell from the man’s lips leaving both you and him confused. “No it’s fine” he says when he snaps back to reality. “Oh come on! It’s my fault so I’ll buy you a new one! I’m going there right now anyways!” You insisted eager to fix your mistake. The man turns looks at his friends and then looks back at you. “Ok um sure.” A small smile forming on his lips.

"Here," you said, extending the cake pop to him with a sheepish grin. "Sorry again." "You really didn't have to do that," he replied, his gaze shifting to the dessert now in his hand. "No, no! I had to!" you insisted, your smile widening with sincerity. He returned your smile, gratitude in his eyes. "So... do you have a name?" he asked. "Oh, umm it’s (y/n)! What’s yours?" you responded. "Eren. Oh, um, Eren Yeager," he replied shyly.

As you processed his name, a wave of recognition washed over you. You'd definitely heard that name before. That's when it clicked. The paparazzi, the wounds on his face. everything fell into place, and you suddenly realized who he was.

"You're that boxer, right?" you said, unable to contain your excitement as you grinned at him. "Oh, umm, yeah," he replied, rubbing the back of his head nervously. "Do you like boxing?" he asked, trying to shift the focus away from himself. "I mean, my big brother's a boxer," you replied casually, feeling a of pride as you mentioned your brothers job.

"Really? Who is he?" Eren asked, his curiosity piqued. "Onyankopon!" you replied proudly, the name rolling off your tongue effortlessly.The feeling Recognition formed on Eren's face. That's where he'd seen you before—linked to the famous Onyankopon.

Eren and Ony were headlining for this highly anticipated boxing event, were they are facing each other in the ring. Throughout the years of both of their boxing Journeys, there have been very mild beef between the both of them. But nothing to Extreme.

"Hope you don’t mind me beating up your brother," Eren teased, flashing a mischievous grin at you. "Umm, I don’t think you will," you replied, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of your lips as you bantered back. With a subtle nod, you motioned for him to follow you back to the table where your belongings stood.

Eren obliged, his smile widening as he fell into step beside you. "So, what do you do?" "I'm in university right now. I want to become a dermatologist," you replied. "Oh, really? That's cool," Eren responded.

"Hey, so um," Eren interrupted you, halting your steps. You turned to face him, curious about what he had to say. His smile was infectious, and you found yourself returning it. "I was wondering if you'd want to talk more," he continued. “I would love to but my class is starting in a few minutes and..” you look at the paparazzi still flashing there cameras at him. “You also look busy.” You return your gaze back to him. He looks behind him and sulks. Their still here?

"Then can I get your number?" Eren asked, eager to continue talk to you more. Your smile widened at his request, flattered by his interest. With a playful glint in your eye, you reached out for his phone, causing a flicker of confusion to pass over his face. "For my number," you clarified with a smirk, enjoying teasing him just a little. "Oh, um, yeah," Eren stammered slightly, fumbling in his pockets until he located his phone. Once he retrieved it, he handed it over to you.

"Here ya go, honey," you said teasingly, handing Eren his phone back with a playful smile dancing on your lips. His cheeks flushed slightly at the nickname, caught off guard by the endearment. "Thank you, pretty," he replied, mustering up the courage to flirt back, his attempt at charm accompanied by a sheepish grin. As you prepared to leave, Eren's gaze lingered on you, reluctant to see you go. "Text me when you get home," he requested softly, his sincerity evident in his tone as he watched you pick your stuff up and leave.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁.𖥔

>ᵥ_ᵥ< : ITS MARCH BREAK YALL IM FREEE !! I might make a part 2 of this😙

[briefinquiries]

Luke Alvez x Reader: Hostage

Description: request: can you do an imagine where the reader is luke’s wife or girlfriend and she gets involved in a hostage situation at a bank and the bau is called in to help with the situation? thanks, i love your writing so much :)

 Word count: 5.2k

Warnings: hostage situation, gun violence, minor character death

“This came in just a few minutes ago from the Director,” Prentiss confirms.  With the click of a button on the remote, a local news station clip projects onto the screen behind her, illuminating the chaos underway. “There’s a situation downtown that he wants the BAU to take the lead on.”

With bewilderment on his face, a reporter stands in downtown Washington D.C., which was littered with law enforcement and a crowd of people. The headline across the bottom of the screen reads ‘Hostage situation underway at Capital One Bank’. 

Luke drops the pen he was holding, drawing attention from other members of the team as it clashes on the table in front of him.  

“Sorry,” he mumbled. The rest of the team averted their attention back to Prentiss, but Luke’s attention was halted in its tracks. Instinctively, he reaches into his pocket for his phone, quickly checking his messages under the table. He tries to remain calm and rational, but his stomach sinks when he realizes none of the messages were from you.  

Luke had been in a rush this morning, per usual. He was running around the house, scrambling for keys, wallet, coffee, his to-go bag, just in case. He only half listened as you told him the list of errands you had to run that morning, while simultaneously scarfing down a buttered bagel.  Whole foods, the post office, the bank–

Luke swallows dryly. You were okay, he tells himself. You were okay, you were okay, you were okay. He repeats the mantra in his head as he types out a quick, casual message.  

Did you make it to the bank this morning?

Luke forces himself to turn at least some of his attention back to the team, but keeps his phone unlocked and open to your text messages.   

“Local officers have invited us in,” Prentiss informs the group, she sets the remote down gently on the round table. “They’ve informed us of at least two armed man inside the bank, no contact or ransom demand has been made as of yet. Garcia is working to gain access to security footage of inside the bank as we speak.” 

The sounds of Garcia typing frantically on her laptop can be heard throughout the conference room as she works.  

Luke stares back down at his blank screen, waiting for text bubbles to appear, indicating that you were responding– alive and well.  But there’s nothing. Luke starts frantically tapping his foot, why weren’t you texting him back?

“Alvez?” Emily’s voice causes Luke’s head to snap up.   

Luke is quick to realize that the entire team is looking at him again as he sits anxiously in his seat, his phone still cradled in the palm of his hand. 

“Sorry,” he repeats. 

This time no one looks away. 

“What’s wrong?” Rossi asks, his eyes narrowed in concern.

“I’m uh, I’m sorry.” Luke says for the third time. He tries to explain while his brain races. “My wife… My wife told me she was running errands this morning, that she had to go to the bank–”  

The moment of silence feels like an eternity to Luke. 

“That’s our bank,” he motioned towards the screen, still playing news clips on the board. “Do you mind if I just give her a quick call?” He asks, holding his phone up. 

Prentiss nods. “Of course.”

Luke mumbles a quick ‘thanks’ before jetting out of the conference room. He escapes into the hall before dialing you. Luke can feel his heart beating rapidly inside of his chest as the line waits to connect– but he’s sent straight to voicemail. 

Luke tries again. He’s not entirely sure why he expected a different outcome, but again, your cheery voice directing him to leave a message plays. This time he does. 

“Hey, it’s me. I just– I really need to hear from you right now.” Luke swallows the lump in his throat, realizing how dry his mouth felt. “Call me back, please. I love you.” He ends the call and turns his phone over in his hand a few times. You were okay, he tells himself again. 

“I– uh, couldn’t get ahold of her,” Luke states as he walks back into the conference room. He makes eye contact with Rossi, who’s gazing wearily back at him. “But I’m sure everything’s fine.” Luke says with as much confidence as he can gather. He’s not so sure he believes it himself. 

That’s when Luke notices how eerily quiet everyone else is. He glances around the room to see everyone else staring at the screen.  

Garcia had managed to tap into the security footage at the bank. Luke scans the image, his eyes immediately landing on the unsub.  He was a tall man, dressed in all black, strutting around the frame with a rifle.  He’s waving it wildly as he randomly lunges intimidatingly at one of the victims huddled on the floor.  There’s no sound to the video, but it looks like he’s shouting at them. 

Garcia suddenly lets out a gasp, her mouth falling open in unison. “No,” she whimpers, she tore her eyes away from the image on the screen to look at Luke. 

Everything inside of him goes numb when his eyes land on one of the hostages curled up on the ground, her knees tucked tightly into her chest, and her familiar looking hair shielding her face as she hangs her head low. There’s a tense silence in the room as Luke stands motionless near the door. Only his chest moved as he let out choppy, labored breaths.  

He could feel eyes on him as the rest of the team came to the same realization he and Garcia just had. You were inside the bank. 

“We are gonna get this guy,” Prentiss says hesitantly, like Luke might break just by her words. 

Luke just nods slowly. He couldn’t find the words to respond, even if he wanted to.    

“She’s going to be okay,” JJ closes the distance between her and him and places a soft, gentle hand on his shoulder.

Luke should say something. He can’t just keep nodding, but all he could think about right now was you, and the way he rushed out of the house in such a hurry this morning. He didn’t even kiss you goodbye– or tell you that he loved you. What if that was the last time he’d ever see you?

“We have to get to the scene,” Prentiss declares somberly. She eyes Luke cautiously, but the clock is ticking.  

JJ lifts her hand off Luke’s arm, leaving behind a cold spot that made him shiver. She follows Tara, Matt and Reid out of the conference room.   

Rossi, Prentiss, and Garcia remain in the conference room with Luke.  

Prentiss clears her throat before speaking. “Luke, you know you can’t come with us on this one.”

His jaw tenses at her order and he finally breaks his silence. “Screw the protocol, Emily, there’s no way I’m staying back here.”

“Luke, I can’t imagine what you’re going through right now,” Rossi says softly.  He stands up from his chair and looks at Luke sympathetically.  

“Don’t–” Luke whispers. His eyes glisten with unshed tears, but he blinks them back before sighing heavily. “Don’t talk to me like I’m one of the victims’ families.”

Prentiss and Rossi both stare at Luke for a moment, neither one knowing what else to say.   

“Emily, please,” Luke sighs, he lets his shoulders fall slightly. “I can’t stay here and do nothing.”  

She sighs heavily and she turns to face Rossi, like she’s looking to the more experienced profiler for advice. They exchange a mutual nod before she responds. “Look at me, Luke.”  His eyes meet hers. “You have to remain level headed and you have to follow my orders. Or I will take you off the case.”

Luke understands that Prentiss was legally bound to follow protocol. He wishes that rules and regulations could be pushed aside at times like this, but he nods in agreement. He would have to control his emotions in the field.  

Emily nods back in affirmation before offering him a sympathetic look. She outstretches her hand and gives his shoulder a firm squeeze. “If it’s personal for one of us, it’s personal for all of us.” She tells him, implying what Luke already knew: that they wouldn’t rest until this was all over. 

A variety of emotions flood through Luke’s mind as he rides in the back seat of one of the SUVs to the scene.  Luke shared the car with Tara, Matt, and Reid, but didn’t speak to any of them. Instead he stares directly out the tinted window, remaining silent during the entire duration of their trip. 

Spencer kept turning his head subtly towards Luke, in an attempt to gauge how he was doing. It was hard for him to see his friend suffering like this. Luke was generally the confident, reassuring one, but today he just looked broken.  

The prospect of losing you was all too consuming as he thought about the careless and threatening way the unsub had been waving his rifle around. He thought about how you had been huddled on the ground, curled up and hiding your face against your knees. He thought about how you were probably wondering where Luke was, and why he wasn’t there to protect you. 

Luke swallows the lump in his throat and forces himself to blink back tears building pressure up behind his eyes.  

How could this be happening?

…

A round of loud pops rang loudly through the air.

“Everybody on the ground!” 

Confused by the sudden chaos around you, your eyes quickly shift towards the door. Two men in combat gear stand there, their faces covered by ski masks. It takes you a moment to realize that the things they were holding high above their heads were guns. Your stomach drops.

You crouch to the floor in an instant, hastily trying to gauge the situation. Your view is partially blocked by the bench in the middle of the bank, all you can hear is frightened cries and the sound of heavy boots trudging across the floor. You scoot out from behind the bench so that you could better see what was happening.  

Someone is talking with the men, probably a teller, you think. Their voices are angry and harsh. 

Suddenly, in the distance, the sound of sirens could be heard. At first, you feel a wave of relief wash over you, thinking that law enforcement would be able to save you all soon enough. 

But then, you hear someone curse loudly then a pair of boots stride back to the counter.  

“Did you call 911?” One man asks. His voice is eerily calm. You watch as the teller shakes his head, terrified. The man laughs before raising his gun, shoving it near the teller. “Don’t lie to me!” He screams, causing you to jump. 

The teller continues to shake his head, sobbing and pleading now. You watch as the robber rips the mask off, displaying his face. He smirks evilly before spinning his rifle around and jabbing it into the teller’s face. You jump in shock as he falls to the floor, groaning in pain.    

Someone screams, another person sobs.  

Fear floods through your entire body upon realizing that these men weren’t leaving peacefully.  Now that their heist had been cut short, they weren’t going down without a fight. The heavy boots came closer and your eyes quickly became clouded with tears.  

Your eyes remain fixated on the floor, even after the footsteps stop right in front of you. 

“Get up,” the man orders. 

You do as you were told, trying your best to steady your shaking hands. Everyone else gets up too, as the other robber circulates the room repeating the same order. 

“Congratulations,” the man said menacingly. He lifts his gloved hand to trace the outline of your jaw. Your nostrils flare in response to his touch. “You’ve just been upgraded from background noise to hostages. Thanks to whoever called the cops.”

He motions for people to head towards the back corner of the bank. Once everyone is gathered around in a semicircle, (you counted eleven other hostages) the robbers bark more orders.

“Cell phones, now.”

People hurry to throw their phones towards the middle of the circle. You pull yours out, your heart sinking when you see an unopened message from Luke flash across your screen. 

���Did you make it to the bank?’  

You wonder if the BAU had gotten wind about what was happening yet. You clutch your phone tightly before tossing it on the tiled floor with everyone else's.  

No one speaks, everyone just watches as the two men circulate around the room. You curl your knees into your chest, hugging them tightly. 

“You weren’t supposed to hurt anyone,” you hear the masked man whisper to the other. “You said we’d just take the money and go.”

“There’s cops outside, Diggy, we’re surrounded. The only way we’re getting out of here is a negotiation. Or if we shoot our way out.”

He strokes his beard lightly, another smirk washing over his face. “Now take that off,” he nods towards his partner’s mask. “Don’t matter much anymore if they see your face, does it?”

The man peels off his mask to reveal his young face. His features are furrowed, like he was concerned. “Cops have protocols they have to follow,” he says to the bearded man. “They won’t just barge in here unless you hurt anyone, so cool it. We can figure this out.”

Just then, the phone starts ringing.  

The older man answers, “What?” he barked. 

You hear muffled voices on the other end of the line.  

“Oh yeah?” He said mockingly, “And what can you do for me, SSA David Rossi of the BAU?”

You let out a shaky breath upon hearing the name of your husband’s coworker. The BAU had been invited in– which meant Luke knew. You wonder if he was outside, too. 

It makes your chest ache to know there was such a small barrier between you and his safe arms.   

“I’ll tell you what I need, I need a way out of here, or else people are going to get hurt.”

You hear Rossi’s muffled voice on the other end of the line again, no doubt using his profiling skills to help defuse the situation. You see the man’s brows slide into a firm line, like he’s thinking hard about something Rossi’s said. But in an instant his face contorts into an angry scowl and he clenches his rifle tighter. 

“Get me a way out of here or they die,” he snarls, before hanging up the phone. 

The man walks back over to the group of hostages with malice in his eyes. He scans the faces of people before landing on a scared woman, looking to be in her early 30’s. He bends over and wraps his hand around her arm, hoisting her up on her feet. 

“No,” she pleads, tears streaming rapidly down her face. “Please, no,” she sobs. 

“Shut up,” the man yells, lifting his gun tauntingly, before dragging her from the group.  

“What are you doing?” you can’t believe you were speaking, you even startle yourself with your words. 

But he doesn’t even turn around– doesn’t even acknowledge that you had protested.  

He pulls her towards the end of one of the teller stations and scribbles something down on a piece of paper. The woman stands by, shaking terribly in her shoes. When the man stops writing he hands her the note. 

“Take this to the cops,” he orders. 

“W-what?”

“Take this to the cops,” he repeats, slower this time. 

She nods, her trembling hands accepting the note. 

…

“Guys–” Tara says. 

The team turns to face where her attention was focused. The front doors of the bank were opening.  

Luke hurries to unholster his gun, his shaky hands gripping the handle as he and every other cop in the area draws their weapons. 

Confusion washes over him as a woman exits the bank, her hands above her head. 

“Please,” she sobs.  

SWAT rushes over to escort the woman to safety.  

“He told me to give you this,” she cries, handing a note over to the SWAT member.  

Prentiss rushes over to take the note, reading aloud the demands.

“Two million dollars and an escape plan. Every 30 minutes you keep me waiting, someone will die.”

The knot in Luke’s stomach tightens. 

…

“Tick tock,” the bearded robber states as he struts around the interior of the bank. The younger man had been quietly sitting on the bench, staring at his shoes for the last few minutes or so. 

The robber picks up the phone, dialing the number that had previously reached out. 

“Is this Rossi?” he snarls into the line. “It’s almost been thirty minutes.”

You watch as the robber converses with Rossi. You’re wondering what he’s saying. 

“You just got someone killed.” He hangs the phone up harshly before taking a deep breath, staring at the clock on the wall. 

“And thirty.” The robber made his way back over to the hostages. He doesn’t hesitate before pulling up the older man who had been praying silently next to you. 

“No!” you cry, trying to grab his hand to pull him back, but the robber just yanks him harder.  

The man is dragged across the floor, but he’s still visible to you. He’s slammed down on the floor on his knees, facing away from the robbers. Your eyes widen as the man brings the rifle up, only inches from the elderly man’s head. You know you should look away, but you can’t bring yourself to do it, especially when he turns his head and locks eyes with you.  

You are the last thing he sees before the robber pulls the trigger.  

You’re too terrified to scream, or cry, or do much of anything. You just stare in shock as the man collapses into a pool of his own blood.  

“That’s what happens when these cops don’t listen to me!” He rants, waving the gun around. He fires a couple of more shots into the ceiling, causing debris to fall. More screams rattle the interior of the bank. 

“What are you doing?” The quieter robber stands up fiercely and rushes over to his partner. He looks frantically at the dead body on the floor. “You just killed someone!” 

They get in each other's faces. “I’m doing what I have to do to get us out of here!” he screams back. He postures towards the younger boy, intimidating him into backing down.  “I’m trying to save us, Diggy.”

“But killing someone, man? I didn’t sign up for that, Kalo.”

“You just gotta trust me, okay?” The older man, you now knew was named Kalo, spoke. 

Diggy lowers his head, biting his lip harshly. He shakes his head, still in shock that things had gone so wrong, so fast. 

…

“Were those gunshots?” Reid asks, worry evident in his voice. 

“Those were gunshots,” JJ confirms, strapping her vest on tightly. 

Luke squeezes his eyes shut tightly. “We have to go in there,” he states, trying to remain calm. 

Rossi lowers the phone that he had been talking to the unsub on. “He said we just got someone killed.”

“If they’re shooting people, we have to go in–” Luke speaks up again. He’s terrified. What if it was you?

“It wasn’t her,” Matt speaks up. He’s watching the video footage that Luke had been too scared to check. “It looks like an older gentleman.”

Luke lets out a shaky sigh. He feels guilty for being relieved about someone else’s death, but he couldn’t help it. He looks at the clock stationed above the monitor. In another 24 minutes, it could be you. 

“What’s our game plan, here?” One of the SWAT members asks.  

Emily sighs. “We have to play this smart– these guys are reckless and they’re not going down without a fight. If we barge in there, they’ll just start shooting. Who knows how many hostages could get hit in the crossfire?”

“If we don’t go in there, he’s just going to keep executing them one-by-one.” Matt refutes. 

Emily nods. “Someone get me the layout of this building, I need to see the back entrances and side doors. If we go in, I want them surrounded.”

…

You’d never given much thought to how you would die. But sitting here, on the cold tile floor, surrounded by people you didn’t know and two masked assailants, wasn’t something you think you could have ever imagined.  

You wonder how Luke was doing– you knew how protective of you he was. You just hope the team has convinced him to keep a level head. 

The woman sitting next to you was spinning her wedding band around on her finger rapidly.  

“What’s his name?” you ask, motioning towards her ring. 

She looks up at you, tears glistening in her eyes. “Julian,” she spoke softly, her lips tugging into a sad smile. “And yours?” she asks. 

You touch your finger to your own ring. “Luke.”

You move your hand across the floor and rest it on top of hers. “We’re going to see them again.”

She nods, using her other hand to cover the sob that was escaping her lips.  

“These FBI agents just don’t learn, do they?” Kalo snarls as he struts across the floor. “They’re gonna let another one of you die.”

This time, he came straight for you. His firm grasp hauls you up to your feet, and before you had time to protest or fight back, he was dragging you to where he’d shot the last man. 

Your breath became choppy and uneven as fear flooded your insides. You were going to die. He was going to kill you. 

“Kalo– stop, no one else has to die!” His friend protests. He even reaches out to pull you away from his clutches, but Kalo shakes him off, jolsting you away from the other man. 

“Kalo!” he shouts, but his partner ignores him.

Just as you get to the middle of the floor, an array of loud bangs echo through the bank, causing you to jump. 

“FBI. Freeze!” A voice yells, before you realize what was happening, Kalo is wrapping his arm around you, and pulling you back against him. The hard barrel of his gun presses against your temple, sending shivers down your spine. 

“I’ll shoot her!” Kalo hollers back, his forearm jabs into your throat. 

When you finally get your bearings, you’re able to look around the room. You see a few faces you recognize.  

The first is Emily. She’s got her gun pointed right at you– or the man holding you, you suppose.  Rossi is beside her, he holds his gun up in his hand before holstering it. 

“We just want to talk, Kalo,” he says calmly.  

Of course they figured out who these guys were, you thought. With Garcia’s tracking abilities, she probably had the men identified within the first five minutes of the robbery. 

You also notice JJ and Matt, they were to the side of you. Clearly they’d found a way in through another door. Reid and Tara flank on the opposite side, they made their way around the two of you, ensuring that the robbers were surrounded. You scan and scan for Luke, but he isn’t there.  It was probably against some policy. You are glad he was following the rules, but you still wish he was there– you wish you could see his face. 

“I’m done talking!” Kalo screams back. His grip tightens and you struggle to breathe. “Go away, or I’ll kill her!” 

He was losing control, you can tell. You squeeze your eyes shut and think about Luke some more. You let his face appear in your mind, his warm brown eyes and soft smile came into focus.  It makes you sad, thinking you may never be able to hear his voice again– or feel his touch.    

“You know we can’t do that, Kalo. Put the gun down and we can work this out.” Rossi says calmly. You open your eyes again. 

“I’m not going back to prison.” Kalo mutters. His arm becomes shaky as it is pushed deeper into your throat, you gag as your airway becomes almost completely blocked. 

“Kalo– don’t do this,” Rossi pleads with the man, he senses that he is about to snap. 

“I’m not going back to prison!” Kalo shouts, and you know– you know that this was it. 

A loud gunshot rings out and you feel yourself dropping to the floor. Your entire body goes numb. You’re sure that you’re dead. 

But as you collapse to the tile floors, you slowly realize that there was no pain– or darkness. You open your eyes to find Kalo lying lifeless next to you. His eyes are still open as blood starts to spread across the ground. You push yourself away, realizing the crimson liquid had splattered all over you and your clothing. You scoot backwards until you ram into the bench.  

You look around the room as the agents jump into action. Rossi hurries to Kalo, kicking his gun out of the way before kneeling down to check his pulse.  

Matt, JJ, and Tara rush to gather up the other hostages, still huddling on the floor in the corner.  

Emily crosses the room to put handcuffs on the other robber. Diggy stands with his gun still pointing at his partner. The smoke is still curling off the end of the barrel as he looks at his fallen friend. 

As Emily approaches him, he drops the weapon, showing that he is willing to go peacefully. 

“No one was supposed to die,” he says in shock. “I had to shoot him.” 

Emily starts telling him his rights when you are approached by a soft, calm voice. 

“Hey, it’s okay,” Spencer says soothingly. He kneels beside you. “Are you hurt?” he asks. 

You shake your head, your eyes staring blankly at him as you try to regain the feeling in your body. 

“Can you stand?” Spencer asks wearily.  

You nod, slowly getting to your feet, with support from Spencer.  

“Luke–” you manage to spit out. Your voice is shaky. 

Spencer nods, wrapping his around your waist reassuringly, “Luke’s here,” he tells you. “I’m gonna take you to him.”

Spencer leads you outside of the bank. The sunlight is almost blinding and you hold your arms up to shield some of it. You want to search for Luke, to scream out his name, but your senses are betraying you.  

Your knees wobble, and you rely way too much on Spencer’s support to get down the steps of the building. You lean into his side, almost ready to fall, when you hear your name being called by a familiar voice. 

“She’s okay,” Spencer tells Luke as he darts across the sidewalk towards you.   

You barely have time to lay your eyes on him before he’s replacing Spencer’s arm with his own embrace. Suddenly, you’re engulfed by his touch and smell and everything Luke. It takes a moment for you to realize it’s real– that your husband is here and that you’re finally safe in his arms. But when you do, you let it consume you. You collapse into his frame and wind your arms tightly around his neck, squeezing like you just couldn’t get close enough. Your face presses into the nape of his neck and you breathe in his warm, familiar scent. 

“You’re okay?” Luke asks, finally pulling back to assess the damage that had been done.  

He winces when he sees the blood covering your shirt. “It’s not mine,” you whisper, knowing what he was looking so concerned about.

It was his– the man who had inflicted upon you the worst day of your entire life. You scratch at the fabric, suddenly desperate for it to come off. 

“I want to go home,” you tell Luke. 

He nods softly. “I’m gonna take you home.”

…

You stand in the bathroom later that night, staring at the reflection looking back at you. Your eyes were hollow– lifeless. The shower is running, the steam already rising above the curtain and starting to cause the mirror to fog up.  

You peel off your shirt to showcase the deep, discoloration already evident on your neck from where the robber had held you. You were tracing the line of bruises across your skin when the wave hit you. In an instant, you let out an earth shattering sob. The cries come from deep within you and wrack your entire body.  

You’re heaving so loudly that you don’t even hear Luke enter the bathroom. Only when he is behind you, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you tightly into your chest did you notice his presence. 

He holds you like that for a while, muttering sweet nothings into your hair and swaying you gently. When your sobs finally subside, he slowly starts helping you undress. First, he helps you unclasp your bra, then he undoes your pants, and acts as a balance support while you step out of them.  

Once you are finally naked, he starts undressing himself.  He is much faster than you. 

Luke leads you into the shower and piles in behind you. The warm water washes over you causing goosebumps to rise up on your skin as you adjust to the sudden heat. 

Luke is gentle. He helps rinse the hardened blood that was caked in your hair out. You watch the water that falls off your skin turn crimson as it swirls down the drain.  He softly takes a washcloth and runs it up and down your skin, you lean into his touch, grateful that he is here to help you. 

Luke plants random kisses all over your skin as he washes it. On your forehead, your nose, your cheek, your shoulder. When he gets to your collarbone, he stops. Luke’s fingertips ran across the bruise that had been left behind on you. You watch as his face twists in pain. He hates seeing you hurt. He hates the fact that he couldn’t stop this from happening to you. 

You break Luke out of his trance by gathering his hand in yours and giving it a reassuring squeeze. 

“Your team saved me today,” you tell him. “You saved me.”

Luke brings your hand to his lips and softly kisses your knuckles. 

“I thought I was never going to see you again,” you tell him. On the last word, your voice breaks, and you start crying softly again. 

Luke pulls you in closer, his hands winding down your back. You press your face against his chest and wrap your arms around his waist. He holds you like that for a long time, until the hot water causes your fingertips to prune and until the mirror is completely covered in fog. Luke holds you tightly, his head resting against your wet hair as you breathe against his rising chest. 

You sigh heavily. For now, you are content like that. In fact, you don’t think you’d care if the two of you stayed in the shower forever You could spend an entire lifetime like that– wrapped up in Luke’s safe embrace. 

[whereianonymouslypostfics]

Security Detail 

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x reader

Word count: ~5.1k

Summary: Little Nat goes to a birthday party

A/N: More inspired by ideas from @rianncreates

Warnings: fluff, slight angst, creeps, and cuteness

This was your nightmare. Honestly the idea of having near 2 dozen kids running around makes you more anxious than you ever would have imagined. Between keeping them from leaving your sight, and making sure no one fell off the jungle gym you didn’t get a moment to relax as you supervised your daughter’s friend’s birthday party.

This is one of the first events you’ve gone to like this and you are realizing quickly that you definitely don't give Wanda enough credit. She loved these types of things, and watching her now was truly an experience. She was somehow the social butterfly between the two of you. She wandered from table to table and talked to parents, kids, and their friends with a smile on her face and an energy that you couldn’t even attempt to muster at this point.

You’re out of your element and it feels painfully obvious as you sit off by yourself. Well, you have your dogs with you. You’d brought them because you had no idea how long this would last, and you hadn’t wanted to worry about them. They loved to get out anyway and after exploring the playground and getting their fill of scratches from the kids, they’d come to sit beside you. You’re considering getting up and making the rounds with Wanda when someone sits beside you with a loud sigh.

“Hanging in there?”

You turn to see Pietro shooting you a knowing look that you just laugh at. He doesn't like these things either, but he can wander off without getting judged. If you did that you'd be a neglectful mother, so you're sitting nearby-ish as you take a breather.

“This is exhausting. I don't know how Wanda does it.”

Pietro glances toward his sister who's smiling as she talks to one of the dads that has at least three kids of his own here. He’s not sure how his sister went from mobster to stay at home mom so seamlessly but it was never something he imagined for her. He was glad that she seemed happy, and he honestly could use some of her energy. He reaches down to scratch Boone’s head with a smile. The dogs have been very good during this whole thing. He’d been afraid that they’d be overwhelmed by the near thirty children here, but they were actually pretty chill. They mostly looked around and kept an eye on Natalya, but she was having fun with her friends and was being watched by more than enough people.

“She’s an impressive one, my sister.”

You smile at the thought and you hum in agreement as your gaze falls to your wife again. She really is spectacular and as you watch her laugh at something the birthday kid’s dad says you feel yourself sigh wistfully.

“She’s amazing, for sure.”

Pietro turns to you with a pinched expression when he realizes you’re practically drooling over his sister. He rolls his eyes before slapping you on the back to startle you out of your daydreaming. You flinch and turn to glare at him as he pretends to be annoyed.

“Hey, that’s my sister you’re drooling over.”

You roll your eyes before slapping your brother-in-law’s hand away. You shake your head before meeting your wife’s gaze briefly before she returns her attention to the host. You briefly wonder how much they spent on this party for their son who’s 4 and won’t remember it. They even hired caterers that are still milling about to make sure that there’s enough food to go around. At this point it’s mostly the parents eating as the kids run around and play on the playground or in the large field that hosts various games.

You hope that Natalya won’t want a party like this. Despite having the money to throw one, logistically it sounds like a nightmare, and you aren’t sure how many more of these you can sit through.

“I’m not drooling. She does look beautiful in that dress though; don’t you think Piet?”

You’re teasing him now because despite agreeing that his sister is pretty, he finds it a little awkward to talk with you about her looks. You know this and you’re just giving him a hard time because it’s what you two do. You take his lack of response as answer enough and you sigh before checking on your daughter again. She’s strayed away from her friend group to play with one of the other dogs roaming around here. You turn back to Pietro to see that he’s spaced out, and you sigh before getting to your feet.

“I’m going to make the rounds. Want to come?”

Pietro unsurprisingly shakes his head and you just leave him to sit and mull as you wave your dogs along. You’re not going to walk around alone, and you’re grateful that they both stand and follow after you obediently.

“Good boys.”

“Thank you.”

You roll your eyes and don’t even bother to respond to Pietro as you decide to get your wife something to eat. She’s been milling around for so long, and you’re not sure if she even ate, so you take a detour to the ridiculously large buffet with a smile. You make her a plate and grab her something to drink before you glance around for your daughter again. She’s wandering farther away and you frown and decide you don’t like this. You turn to Boone before pointing toward Natalya and waving your dog off.

“Go get her, Boone.”

You should do it yourself, but you’re lazy and you’ll check on her as soon as you stop by Wanda to make sure she’s not going to pass out. It’s way too hot for an outdoor party, in your opinion at least, but you’ll worry about that later. You walk up behind your wife and smile as you hear her laughing as she continues to chat. You check behind you and frown when you realize your other dog abandoned you, but since he’s going after his brother, you’re going to let it go.

“Hey there, Wands.”

Wanda’s exhausted. She underestimated how tiring such a large birthday party would be. She’s playing the part of a host despite not being one, but she’d wanted to get to know the parents of her daughter’s classmates in a setting that wasn’t run by the school. She’d learned a lot, but mostly she’s exhausted herself after nearly an hour of chitchatting. She’s beyond grateful to hear your voice behind her, and as soon as she realizes you’ve brought her food, she could just kiss you.

“Hi detka. Come sit.”

You set the plate and cup in front of your wife, and you’re about to sit down but you remember that you were going to check on Natalya. She would do anything to pet a dog and you have to make sure she doesn’t go too far. She was still in sight when you sent Boone after her, but you had to go make sure she didn’t stray any further. You kiss your wife’s cheek before you point over your shoulder and explain why you’re not taking her up on her very appealing offer.

“I will in a minute, I have to go wrangle Little Nat first. She’s over there.”

Wanda turns to where you’re pointing, but she doesn’t see her daughter anywhere. She’s frowning by the time she looks back to you and your smile turns down too when Wanda shakes her head.

“Where is she? I don’t see her.”

Natalya was getting tired of playing and she could use a second serving of cake. She had planned on doing this immediately after leaving her friends, but she spotted a new dog that she hadn’t pet yet and she couldn’t resist the urge to follow it. It was a small scruffy dog with a purple collar, and she followed him closely as he headed away from the party and toward the parking lot.

“Come here, doggy.”

Natalya reaches out and is just short of the dog so she starts to walk faster. She doesn’t even realize she’s getting too far away from everyone else until she follows the dog behind some trees. She stops short and turns around only to realize she can’t see her parents or uncle anymore. Her moms had told her before coming here that she needed to stay in sight at all times. She could only talk to the other kids at the party and their parents, but no one else at the park. She’s reminded of this last rule as she sees a man dressed in black and white waiting for his dog with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth. He holds out his arms and Natalya just stands where she is as she debates heading back.

“Hello there. Do you want to say hi?”

Natalya is conflicted. She’s not supposed to talk to strangers, but her moms never said anything about petting their dogs. She nods meekly before she steps forward so she’s in the shade and closer to the cute dog who’s panting from his run over here.

“Yes please.”

The man smiles before he drops the still smoking cigarette and stomps it out before pointing at his dog. He watches the brunette take a couple of tentative steps forward.

“Go ahead, he’s very sweet.”

Natalya reaches out a hand to pet the dog’s head, and she smiles as he licks her in return. She’s about to ask what his name is, but his owner catches her off guard as he grabs her around her waist and picks her up. She doesn’t get a chance to protest before he’s covering her mouth and hurrying off toward the parking lot.

You’re speed walking toward where you’d last seen your daughter with Wanda and Pietro on your heels. You are only a little worried when you walk past the field and toward the parking lot without seeing her. You don’t even see your dogs as you mutter under your breath anxiously.

“She was just here, I swear.”

Wanda’s response is cut off as she hears shouting nearby from beyond the trees near the path that leads back to their car. She frowns when she realizes that they’re screaming in pain and only a second later she notices that it’s nearly drowning out the sound of growling. You and Pietro run toward the sounds and as you get closer you recognize your dogs and run faster.

“Hey!”

The sight that greets you is a lot to process, but you don’t hesitate to run forward to stop Pietro from committing murder. Your two dogs have latched onto the legs of a man in a caterer’s uniform who’s holding something under his arm. It takes a second for you to realize it’s a person, and then only a millisecond longer to realize it’s your daughter. You ignore the small barking terrier as you call off your dogs as the man finally drops Natalya. She falls hard on the ground and you rush to grab her just as Pietro tackles her attempted kidnapper.

“You fucker!”

“Pietro!”

Wanda’s shocked to see someone with her daughter in their arms, and it takes her a second to realize that they’d been trying to run off with her. She had feared something like this would happen for only the first few years of Natalya’s life. However, every scenario that she’d imagined hadn’t included a birthday party. She supposes that was shortsighted on her part. She watches for only a second before she’s running forward to check on her daughter that you’re helping off the ground. She’s got dirt on her face, but otherwise she looks unharmed.

“Natalya!”

“Little Nat, are you alright? Did he hurt you?”

You’re frantic as you check over your daughter to make sure she’s not injured. Luckily you only notice a small scrape on her knee from the fall, but otherwise she appears unharmed. You ignore your brother-in-law as he beats up the man who had snuck into the party and lured your daughter away. Your anger makes you want to kick the man while he’s down and already bloodied by the older Maximoff, but you decide to focus on your daughter.

“Pietro, stop!”

Wanda gathers Natalya in her arms while you try to calm down your dogs. They’re still barking and snarling at the brunette that they’d intercepted, and they’re too on edge to listen to you. You see that Wanda has her phone out and she’s hopefully calling the police so you focus on Pietro. He’s understandably pissed, but you can’t let him kill the guy before you find out what he was doing. Rather if he was doing it of his own volition. You hadn’t heard anything about your wife’s work for years. Since she’s been retired, you’d never had problems, and you hope as horrible as it sounds, that this is just a run of the mill creep instead of a mobster creep.

“Who the hell are you?! What did you want with my niece?”

Pietro’s breathing heavily as he stares down at brunette who’s barely fighting back. He realizes quickly that this person probably isn’t anyone’s hired help. He’s too soft and the thought that he’s working alone is as comforting as it is disgusting. Pietro grabs the collar of his bloodied shirt, and he’s about to slam him on the ground again when he hears new voices.

Apparently, the dogs had attracted the attention of some of the other parents and they’d wanted to make sure that no one was hurt. Wanda noticed them first, but you’re the one who talked to them about the confusing, disturbing scene in front of them. Pietro reluctantly let the brunette up and he just held him tightly as he waited for the sirens to get closer.

Once he was in custody and everyone involved had been questioned, you decided it was time to leave. You look to your daughter who’s sleeping in her uncle’s arms, before turning toward your dogs. They were still a little wired, but they’d calmed down as soon as the cops showed up. You were grateful that you’d sent Boone after Nat and that they’d both protected their sister, but you’re feeling guilty about not going to get your daughter yourself. She would never have gotten that far if you had just gone after her, and you’re kicking yourself for what almost happened.

“Stop it.”

You turn in confusion at the sound of your wife’s voice, but when you see her knowing look you just turn away with a scowl. She’s not mad at you because there’s no way you could have known what was going to happen. Nat was still in sight when you saw her, and you sent Boone after her with the intention of finding her right after. She’s sure she would have done the same thing. She’s just lucky that the dogs had saved Natalya, and that her brother had beaten him up for all of them. She reaches out for your arm as you shake your head.

“I shouldn’t have left her alone. I’m so stupid.”

Wanda grabs your chin to turn you towards her, and you’re met with a stern look that you know isn’t something you should argue with.

“Stop it, Y/n. This isn’t your fault. You were going to check on her, and in the meantime, you made sure she was taken care of.”

Wanda takes a moment to look at the two dogs that might still have blood on their faces. She didn’t worry about that now as she knelt down to pet the duo with a wide smile. They had been loyal companions for years, and Wanda had always hoped that if a day like this came around, they would step up and protect their own. She couldn’t be prouder of them and she kisses both of their furry heads in thanks.

“Such good boys. You’re getting steak tonight.”

You guess that Wanda’s right. You hadn’t predicted that you’d face this threat today, but you’re glad that you were more prepared than you thought. Well, it was less you and more your dogs and your brother-in-law being able to thwart the low life who tried to steal your daughter. With any luck, something like this won’t happen ever again, but you can at least take comfort in the fact that your daughter has her own guard dogs.

“They definitely are.”

When the trio got home after the party everything seemed normal. They had dinner after spending some time on the couch watching one of Natalya’s favorite shows. Nat nearly fell asleep at the table after the tiring and stressful time at the party, so you picked her up to take her upstairs to bed. You’re distracted by tiny hands pulling on your hair as you walk through your daughter’s bedroom door. You frown when she whines quietly before speaking barely loudly enough for you to hear.

“I want to sleep with you and Mama.”

You aren’t really surprised to hear this, but you and Wanda still need to talk and figure out what you’re going to do about what happened this afternoon. The police had their own investigation going of course, but you knew your wife well, and you would be foolish to think that she wasn’t going to look into it herself. You decide to try and compromise and you figure you can stay here with Nat until she falls asleep and then go catch up with your wife.

“How about I stay with you instead?”

Natalya frowns but she nods and lets you get her ready for bed. After she brushes her teeth and changes clothes, you tuck her in and grab a book from her shelf beside the bed. You smile as you ask your daughter if she wants you to read this tonight, and after grabbing Winston and holding him tight, she nods wordlessly.

Wanda’s still downstairs trying to talk her brother down when you finish reading to Natalya. You leave her once you realize she’s fast asleep, and you head back downstairs to find your wife growing frustrated as she finishes her drink. She’d had a glass of wine at dinner, so this must be her second but you don’t pay much attention to that right now.

“I know Pietro, and I appreciate it, but we’ll figure something else out. I’m not going to blow our cover on this. He was probably just a lone creep.”

You had come to the same conclusion, but you just sigh in defeat as you go straight for the fridge for another drink too. You choose to grab a beer and are almost half done with it by the time Wanda hangs up with her brother. She takes a deep breath before turning toward you with a small smile. She’s tired and stressed, but she’s sure you are too so she takes a minute to check in with you.

“Natalya’s asleep?”

You nod in confirmation before setting down your beer as Wanda reaches out for you with a tired look. You hold her close before glancing over her shoulder at your two dogs that are resting in their giant dog bed in the corner. All of the kids seem to be down for the night, so you decide that you’ll go to sleep soon too. This had been a stressful experience and you could feel yourself crashing at the very thought of your pillow.

“She is. How’s Pietro?”

Wanda shrugs before muttering something into your hair about how he’s being an overprotective uncle, but he should calm down soon. You listen to Wanda’s plan before you lead her toward the stairs once you both finish your drinks and set them in the sink. Wanda squeezes your hand as she shuts the door behind her and keeps you from collapsing immediately.

“How are you feeling, detka?”

You sigh before you shake your head and admit that you’re still a little upset. This is understandable and Wanda’s certainly not happy either. She’s terrified and still shocked that you both could have lost your daughter today. If you’d been even 30 seconds later, or you hadn’t sent Boone after Natalya, she could have been taken. Wanda shivers at the thought but she focuses back on you when you finally respond as you lead her to the bed. You feel like you’re going to collapse if you don’t sit down right now.

“Still reeling. I can’t believe this happened.”

Wanda nods in agreement as she leans against you as soon as you’re both sitting on the edge of the bed. She wraps an arm around your waist before she hums in contemplation. She had thought that something like this would happen a lot earlier in Natalya’s life, but she wasn’t going to mention that now. Instead, she focuses on you and the fact that your daughter is sleeping safely in her bedroom.

“Me neither, but we’ll figure out what happened, and the important thing is that she’s safe.”

You can’t argue with this or the fact that you’re relieved to have your daughter safe and sound back at home. You offer your wife a small smile before kissing her cheek and taking a deep breath.

“You’re right, Wands. As usual.”

Her response is an amused smile and you just follow her wordlessly as she leads you to the bathroom.

You’re asleep almost before your head hits the pillow, but you unfortunately don’t stay asleep. You manage a few hours before something wakes you up with a start. You frown in confusion and wait to see if whatever woke you up happens again, but no luck. It’s quiet and you turn to your left to see that Wanda’s sleeping soundly. You sigh before you close your eyes and try to go back to sleep. You don’t know what woke you, but now that you’re up, you’re tense and finding it hard to fall back asleep.

Your mind wanders to the events of yesterday’s party, and you know despite how everything worked out that you won’t be letting your daughter out of your sight for a while. Whenever she leaves the house, she’ll either have you or Wanda within arm’s reach. This thought makes you want to check on Natalya, and you sneak out of bed only a couple of minutes later to see if your daughter is still sleeping peacefully.

You quietly walk down the hall before pushing the door to Natalya’s room open slowly. You see Winston is on the ground and you’re about to grab him and put him back in bed with your daughter when you realize she isn’t there. The sheets are in disarray and her pillow’s almost on the floor, but Natalya’s not anywhere in sight. You try not to panic, but you’re already looking around the room before you get on your knees to look under the bed.

“Natalya? Little Nat, where are you?”

Once you start tearing through the closet you truly start to panic. You stand up and nearly trip over the various shoes and clothes you’ve thrown around on your way to the door. You stop in the doorway when you run into a confused and slightly miffed Wanda. She’d just woken up to sounds coming from her daughter’s room, and given how on edge she was she didn’t hesitate to get up and investigate. When she realized you weren’t in bed, she quickly ran down the hall only for you to almost barrel her over.

“Y/n? What’s wrong? What’s-?”

You shake your head as you grab your wife’s shoulders to steady both of you. You’re starting to walk past her as you speak up in a jumble of words that you hope make sense. You plan on looking around in the other bedrooms before running back to your room to call the police.

“Nat’s not in her bed, Wands.”

Wanda’s eyes widen in surprise before she glances in her daughter’s room to confirm this. She curses under her breath before she runs back to the bedroom to grab her phone. She’s not sure if you even hear her since you’ve run to the next room to check for Natalya.

“I’ll call Piet.”

You see quickly that both of the bedrooms are untouched and after checking the closets, you’re sweating you’re so anxious. You don’t bother to shut the doors as you run back down the hall and look for your wife. She’s still on the phone with her brother and you hear her speaking frantically in her native language. You don’t know what she’s saying, but you hear Pietro’s equally frantic voice as you check to make sure that the security system is still armed. There’s nothing amiss and you start to tremble from the lack of leads and the idea of someone sneaking in here. You force yourself to take a deep breath as you look around frantically, and the sound of Wanda’s increasingly anxious voice fades into the background as you lay eyes on your dogs. They’re still lying in their bed, but they’re awake as they watch you and Wanda panic. You find this odd because usually they’d be all over you and any activity that’s happening. Instead, they’re curled up next to each other in bed with-

“Wanda, she’s here.”

You miss your wife looking over to you and then promptly hanging up after she spots her daughter. She’s sleeping beside her dogs in their oversized bed, and they’re both curled around her protectively with Boone using the brunette’s shoulder as a pillow. You breathe a sigh of relief and almost start crying as you hurry forward to check on your daughter. Rogue’s tail starts to wag and Boone tries to lick you, but you focus on Natalya who’s sleeping soundly despite being covered in dog hair and being squished between the heavy dogs.

“Hey, Little Nat. Wake up.”

You are still trying to calm your breathing when Wanda comes up next to you and kneels by your side. She reaches out for Rogue to scratch him as she waits for Nat to sit up. She grumbles slightly but she sits up and rubs at her eyes with a frown at the sight of her worried parents.

“Is it morning yet, Mama?”

Wanda shakes her head as you hold your arms out for Natalya, and you smile when she starts to crawl toward you.

“No, milaya. Mom went to go check on you, but you weren’t in bed. What are you doing down here?”

Natalya climbs into your lap before wrapping her tiny arms around your waist with a frown. She tries to hide her face in your stomach, but Wanda reaches out for her because this is important. She wants her daughter to look at her.

“I didn’t want to sleep a-alone, and you said no dogs on the bed.”

Both you and Wanda frown at this but seem to realize what Little Nat’s saying. You hate that this happened, and maybe it’s just yesterday’s events that made you freak out, but you’d let the dogs sleep in Nat’s bed if she wanted them to. It was much better than having a heart attack.

Wanda seems to be on the same page, and she smiles softly at her daughter who’s looking at her shyly. She thinks she’s in trouble, but you hold her tightly and kiss the top of her head which makes her look up curiously.

“Okay, next time if you want company come to us first, okay? I was really worried when I didn’t see you in bed.”

Nat’s lower lip juts out in a pout and she shoots you a guilty look before holding you tighter. You watch Wanda run her fingers through your daughter’s tangled hair before shaking her head. She surprises you by what she says next when Nat apologizes.

“Sorry Mommy.”

Wanda’s just grateful that her heart’s started to beat normally again and she didn’t call anyone but her brother. She’ll apologize for waking him up so early tomorrow.

“It’s okay, but from now on the dogs can sleep on your bed. On top of a blanket though. How does that sound?”

Natalya smiles widely and nods in excitement which makes you feel lighter. You let Natalya go and she hugs Wanda quickly before she starts to bounce excitedly in her lap while looking between her redhead mom and her dogs.

“Okay! Can they sleep there now?”

You can’t help but laugh as you see Wanda regret her decision almost immediately, but you nod quickly as you watch Natalya clumsily get to her feet and near tackle her dogs. Wanda sighs but you can tell from her smile that she’s happy as she watches her daughter throw her arms around Rogue’s neck. The shepherd had been watching lazily and he just lets out a surprised huff when Natalya falls on him. You just stand up before reaching out to help your wife to her feet as Natalya tries to coax her dog out of his bed.

“Rogue! Come on let’s go!”

The shepherd considers ignoring her, you can tell, but eventually he sneezes in her face before climbing to his feet. Natalya leads him upstairs after hugging Boone goodnight. You squeeze Wanda’s hand as you lead her upstairs following in your adorable daughter’s footsteps.

“She’s so cute, Wands.”

Wanda sighs in defeat but she can’t argue with you. As she watches Natalya lead Rogue by the collar to her bedroom while talking to him animatedly, she can’t help but be grateful for her daughter’s excitement at something so simple. She’d give a lot to see her daughter smile, and cleaning up a little extra dog fur didn’t seem like a big deal. You two tuck your daughter and Rogue into bed before leaving her to go back to sleep. You release another heavy sigh as you and Wanda arrive back to your bedroom. She wraps an arm around your shoulders before pressing a kiss to the side of your head with a smile.

“She really is, detka, but she’s going to be the death of us.”

You laugh in response but only nod in agreement as you sink back into the bed with a groan. Wanda smiles at you before cuddling up into your side with a yawn. She closes her eyes and hears you switch off the lights before settling beside her with a tired hum. As you both fall back to sleep for the second time that night, you hope that tomorrow will be calmer.

Little Nat Adventures

[aealrizen]

It was well into the afternoon of the next day by the time the group reached the western gate of Eutoli. The remainder of the trip had been relatively uneventful compared to the day before, with only a short excursion with vulture bats leading the group into having an early and cheerful lunch. The crowd had noticed a group of them in the distance, and while Zeera had wanted to detour slightly to avoid them Ian instead offered to hunt the beasts for a fresh meal for everyone. The creatures were too large for most people to risk hunting them, attempts usually resulting in large injuries. But Ian’s sniper rifle was able to make short work of them from a safe distance, and sharing the resulting food with the group ended up solidifying the change in the opinion of most of the group towards the three cyborgs. Having been given an easy ride through brigands, and then fed fresh meat for lunch meant that a good portion of the group was cheerfully waving goodbye when they left them at the gate. An action that Ian and Whip gratefully returned as most of the group left to take care of their next jobs, leaving the rest to ride through the first gate to Eutoli.

The entrance to the last of the domed cities was similar to Andapos, with layers of heavy gates and security personnel separating the wastelands outside from the protected civilization inside. Those who had the proper paperwork for an extended stay were allowed to follow the trucks into the enclosed dock within the walls, locals directing the escorts to park the vehicles and showing the volunteers where to unload the different types of equipment. It was a streamlined process, each item being checked against the documents, and inspected for any potential hazards to either people or the internal environment.

Since Benjamin had filed their paperwork as people who were to help unload, Ian, Whip and Midas had to delay entering the city until all of the transported supplies were organized into their proper containers to be delivered to their end destinations. It wasn’t hard work, especially since they were all capable of easily lifting way more than the average person. A feat that earned a chorus of surprised noises from the locals, which soon turned into amused chuckling and compliments.

Midas found it was hard to completely focus on his work, even if the machines he was helping to unload were interesting to look at and consider their potential functions. There was an odd smell that permeated the air ever since they’d passed through the first gateway. Rich, heavy, and settling in the back of his nose, practically resting on his tongue. Foreign, yet not. And Whip ended up sputtering a small chuckle when he caught Midas absently smelling his own arm while setting a broken generator down on a conveyor.

“What are you doing?” Whip asked, the mirth still in his voice as Midas raised his head to smell the air again.

“I’m trying to figure out what that smell is,” Midas admitted, brows scrunched in confusion.

“Sme- oh,” Whip started to repeat before he realized exactly what Midas was talking about. Right, as far as the kid’s active memory knew this was the first time he’d been to Eutoli. Which meant he’d definitely notice the one thing that marked Eutoli different from the other cities. “It’s the plants.”

“What?” Midas asked, brow furrowing more. He couldn’t even see any plants in here. Well, except maybe the little desk ivy one of the security personnel had. Surely that wasn’t the cause of such an all consuming scent that permeated the entire garage.

“On the other side of that wall are the open fields and forests of Eutoli. When you get so many plants clustered together everything smells different,” Whip explained, spreading his hands in front of him slightly after gesturing to the wall the conveyors were leading through.

The face Midas gave Whip betrayed that he didn’t quite understand or believe what Whip was saying, but Whip could only chuckle. “C’mon, we’re almost done. Let’s just finish up and go see for ourselves, okay?” Whip prompted, gesturing to the last truck that only had a few more items in it.

It seemed this was a common enough occurrence that the people of Eutoli had learned how to heavily streamline the unloading process. Something Midas found he was grateful for as it was becoming increasingly harder to focus on anything in particular. He just wanted to run through the last gateway and see the city for himself. See if there was anything at all that triggered some of his memories to return. Maybe even catch sight of that cathedral that had been in the database in Mortenheim. He figured that could be his starting point. Just find the cathedral and work out from there. Someone had to know something, right? It wasn’t just baseless hope that he had.

Soon enough they were standing at the last checkpoint before being allowed into the city, and Midas didn’t notice at all how the employee gave him a confused expression when Ian was the one to hand him their papers and passes. Nor did he notice when the guard stamped the passes and let them through with a “Welcome back,” comment instead of “Welcome to Eutoli,” like he had with the others who had permission to stay longer. A comment that made Whip frown slightly, but after looking at Midas and how absent the lad’s expression looked, he didn’t voice any of the questions in his mind. Surely if the guard knew Midas he would have said something, yeah? Maybe they just had a record of Ian or Whip having been there before, and that had prompted the change in greeting, as well as the way people seemed significantly less concerned with their foreign presence than with others that had been there.

The questions in Whip’s mind were decidedly filed away for later considering there was an entire city of people they could talk to just beyond the next set of doors. They could come back to the security worker as a last resort, and not hang up the line asking odd questions that would make his job harder.

It wasn’t the first time Ian or Whip had walked through the last set of doors leading to the inner city of Eutoli. But it had certainly been a long time, and the view was just as breathtaking. Frosted glass doors opening to rolling slopes of green as far as the eye could see. A humid breeze pushing into their faces as Midas sucked in a gasp and absently rushed ahead a few steps, running to the edge of the patio and onto the slightly shaggy wild grass. It was completely different from the other cities. Where Andapos opened into concrete streets and tall buildings painted with cool blues and artificial browns, and Cerah’s pale streets picked into sterile cleanliness by machines boasted the presence of humans, Eutoli was predominantly green and full of texture. Cascading hills of grass led into fields of wildflowers right next to steps of rice paddies leading into farmlands that intermingled with orchards flowing into towering forests. Anything that wasn’t green was dirty brown or irregular grey from unshaped stones. Even the city of humans looked less like a city and more like countryside houses built around the natural curves of trees and hills instead of clearing the way for structures. And the only ones that remained functional were small. Any towers of glass had long since fallen to rest and be reclaimed by the precious foliage that Eutoli now coveted.

Midas stared in stunned silence for a stretch of time, his eyes scanning the entirety of the world inside the dome that contained its own clouds. Everything looked remarkably unremarkable. Everything was new, yet just as it should be. The rustle of wind in the leaves and grass, and a hustle of sounds from living creatures that weren’t human. A pocket of fairytale forest wrapped up in a protective shield of technology keeping it separate from the wastelands outside. Such a peaceful place that warranted a sense of serenity.

Which meant that Midas’ sudden exclamation was a lot quieter than he usually was. “Rice fields!” Midas suddenly gasped when he noticed them, raising a hand to point while glancing back at Whip and Ian before he started sprinting down the hills towards them.

There were no pathways that weren’t overgrown. People here didn’t like to trample the ground into barrenness. So the grass whisked past their legs as Ian and Whip gave startled noises before quickly following Midas’ path to the flooded paddies. It took less than thirty minutes for them to reach them, the green stalks of rice only being so easily identifiable because of the blanket of water they rested in. And when they reached the edge of one of the pools Midas paused only for a moment, just long enough to raise one foot at a time to yank the boots off his feet before he splashed into the clear water.

“I’ve always wanted to do this,” Midas commented, a little breathless as he started almost shuffle walking along the channels between the sections of rice. “The mud under the water is so soft, just like they said it was. Because they keep fish in the water too, and if you stand still they’ll sometimes come and - snrk- nibble your legs.” The explanation came through barely smothered excitement as Midas wandered a little further away before he forced himself to stop, standing still as he said to and almost immediately getting the small carp to swim out from the rice and bump against his calves, causing him to snicker and giggle. And as he kept looking back at the other two, Ian and Whip exchanged a look with each other.

They were hesitant at first, not sure if they would get in trouble for just walking into the rice paddies without permission. But no one was yelling at them, or running to tell them off. There was even a woman with a wide hat that looked to them, but only raised a hand in a pleasant wave before she continued wading through the fields, checking on the plants and fish. It was enough to convince Whip and Ian that it was okay for them to follow Midas’ beckons to join him, taking their own shoes off and stepping into the surprisingly cool water. The mud at the bottom squishing between his toes earned a snicker from Whip as he suddenly understood why Midas had been so excited to get his feet in the water. And Ian found the cool water and resident fish paying him no mind to be strangely calming. It was easy to catch up to Midas, and they ended up falling silent as the lad started to babble facts about the farming methods there, all of them holding their shoes out of the water as they aimlessly wandered the fields.

“They raise fish in the paddies because they can be used as food, but also because they act as natural pesticides for bugs and snails that are harmful for the rice. So they’re able to grow more healthy plants since they don’t have to worry about chemical pesticides.” Midas’ sounded proud to know what he did about the rice fields, happily sloshing through the rows and rows of crop while looking at the fish, the plants, the small birds that would land on the plants from time to time to eat the seeds and the bugs. “The fish make for a great dinner too. I think they have carp and also tilapia, which is really good with lemon- Ah! I’ve had lemon carp before!” The realization caused Midas to abruptly turn around to face Whip and Ian, a huge smile lighting his eyes as he realized it wasn’t because he was regurgitating an encyclopedia that he knew all that he was saying. He could remember having a whole, braised fish for dinner before, seasoned with lemon juice and herbs. He was about to ask if they could look for a place to get some for dinner that night, but Whip suddenly reached out to caution Midas as he continued walking backwards.

“Ah, Midas look out!” Whip called hurriedly, moving forward to try and grab Midas before he stepped back further. There was someone behind Midas, hunched over in the fields catching some of the fish and putting them in a basket. A huge straw hat was blocking their features, and Midas seemed to be paying less attention to his surroundings now that he was thinking about the fish. Whip ended up too late in his warning, but thankfully the girl broke out of her working trance soon enough to stumble out of the way with only a slight bump from the distracted lad. She gave a tiny yelp as Midas bumped into her, but didn’t seem too upset.

“Sorry!” Midas immediately blurted, dropping his shoe and reaching out to catch the girl’s arm to keep her steady. As she raised her head, Whip noticed quite the length of blonde hair tied in two braids pinned up where they wouldn’t dangle in the water, and strikingly blue eyes above faintly freckled cheeks. She must have been only a teenager, and incredibly shy since she had yet to say anything.

At first Ian thought it was just because she wasn’t used to seeing strangers, but then he noticed how her expression changed from anxious surprise to open shock. And after that Ian was quick to notice Midas had frozen as well, staring at the girl’s face in frozen silence as his mind screamed empty thoughts at him. His grip on her arm went slack, and she raised her hands to cover her mouth in a smothered inhale.

“......Meri?” Midas suddenly asked, the word sounding foreign to his ears but right in his mind, his eyes still openly staring at the girl.

She didn’t respond verbally, the hands covering her mouth starting to shake before she suddenly gasped, turning around to run in the opposite direction in borderline panic, leaving her basket behind without a second glance.

“Ah, wait!” Whip called out, stumbling forward to try and grab the girl and keep her from running. Meri? Was that her name? Did she and Midas know each other? She couldn’t just run away and not say anything. Why did she look so scared?

And yet it was Midas who reached out an arm to block Whip’s path, holding him back. “Don’t. You’ll just… scare her- she’s very… shy…?” Midas cautioned, his comments as broken and the headache scramble of thoughts flooding his mind, causing him to raise a hand to his temple and squint an eye. There were broken pieces of images in his mind. A little girl with a stuffed bear that she always carried with her, hiding half her face as she peeked over the top of it. Knowing that she always spoke incredibly quiet, often not saying anything at all, especially in crowds. Her name was Meri. He was pretty sure it was Meri. But… he couldn’t sort through the other thoughts to remember who she was exactly. Was she someone’s sister? A daughter definitely, but to who? She was friends with… who again? There were so many faces popping into his head now. Some didn’t seem to fit, some came to mind without a reason to be there. It was like shortly after he first woke up. Everything dumped into his mind like a trash bin with no organization, and the labels all ripped, faded, or missing completely and potentially replaced by something else. It was headache inducing, and he winced as he dropped his other shoe in favor of holding his head with both hands.

“Midas?” Ian prompted, concern saturating his voice that was deliberately kept quiet as he moved forward to lean down in front of Midas, hands resting on the lad’s shoulders gently.

“Give me a minute,” Midas requested in almost a whisper, leaning forward to bump his head against Ian’s chest and taking advantage of the semi shade he was providing. “Too much. Just… give me a minute.”

He sounded pained and overwhelmed, so Ian just relented to wait, and keep him close. “Okay. Take your time,” he bid quietly, keeping an eye on only Midas now as Whip took the role of watching their environment.

____________________________

First

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Forget the 1500 word limit I'm too excited to post all of this at once ahhhhh X'DDDD

[stirthewaters]

Inside

This is a lil story I've been working on that's a Wednesday x Reader type of thing. Maybe a part two? <3

You sit by yourself. Only partially by choice. Sure you have friends. Or, at least a friend. But currently you’re sitting in the sill of your window, looking at the forest outside of Nevermore’s cursed walls, completely and utterly alone. The music that drifts through your earbuds is depressing and powerful; you bob your head to the music, lip-syncing as the lyrics fill you with emotion.

After being a student at Nevermore for almost three years now, it’s almost funny how you’ve only managed to secure one friend; Enid Sinclaire. Even if she is the most social person at Nevermore, it feels good to have someone like her that has your back. But she’s not here right now. Currently she’s somewhere around the quad, with her new “roomie”, whoever that is.

You’re not jealous, though. Sure, it kinda stings that the empty space in Enid’s room that you used to occupy won’t be available to hang out on randomly, but you’re sure that Enid will do some kind of Nevermore Dorm Party, and invite you. If she still likes you that is. Which she will. Probably. 

Anxiety sucks. Usually it’s a common thing when it comes to teenagers, but for you, it flares up unusually easily. Noticeably so when in public. That’s why you have to clamp a lid onto your emotions whenever you start feeling stressed or scared. Panic attacks too. If you don’t keep your anxiety in check, panic attacks will flare up, and when that happens it’s too easy to spiral out of control. It really sucks when you have to spend the better part of an hour trying without much success to calm you down.

Shaking out these thoughts from your head, you crank up your music and decide to head down to the cafeteria for food. As the emotional lyrics pound through your brain, you pull up your hood and get up, heading down the hall. 

The cafeteria is noisy. Perfect. Nothing better than a bunch of yelling, talking, laughing teenagers to ramp up your social anxiety. Burying your earbuds deeper into your eardrums, you wait in line, pretty much tuning out everything around you.

So that’s why when you feel a tap on your shoulder, you’re nearly scared out of your skin. Whipping around and pulling out an earbud, you see Enid holding a tray. Standing next to her is a girl. Completely goth. Black braids with long bangs that almost cover her eyes. Her Nevermore Uniform isn’t the typical blue; instead it’s just as black as her hair. Her skin is pale, and her face is expressionless. 

“Hey, Y/N! This is Wednesday, my new roomie! I wanted you to meet her since you two will be seeing a lot of each other from now on,” Enid smiles, gesturing to the girl. You turn to her, studying her. “Um, hi. I-I’m Y/N,” you say, assuring yourself that your tone is stiff. You don’t want Enid’s new roommate to see your flimsy interior. “Wednesday. Wednesday Addams,” she responds, holding out her hand to shake. You take it, and shake it. 

“Why don’t you sit with us? We just got here,” Enid suggests, gesturing to a solitary and small table in the corner of the huge room. You give her a small smile, and nod. “That sounds great. Thanks, Enid.” 

After receiving food, you, Enid, and Wednesday, all sit at the small table. The noise from the crowds is softer here, and you let out a small sigh of relief. 

“So, Y/N, why don’t you tell Wednesday about some of your interests?” Enid suggests, clearly trying to break the silence. 

“I uh…” you clear your throat when you realize that Wednesday is watching you. “I like music, I guess.” You smile a little bit, gesturing to the earbud still buried in your ear. “I like drawing and reading too…just normal stuff.”

“Wednesday, why don’t you tell Y/N some of your interests?” Enid nods approvingly. “Besides sucking the life out of people for fun?” Wednesday remarks, “I write.”

“Oh, cool…” you respond, making eye contact with her. Her expression says nothing, but her eyes flicker with a bit of understanding. Maybe she’s like you. Lonely? But from what you know, she enjoys being alone. 

“Well, anyways, here, Y/N. Wednesday and I are hosting a Get-To-Know you Dorm Party tomorrow night. You have to come,” Enid hands you an invitation smothered with glitter. You meet Wednesday’s glance,

“Both of you?”

“I had no business with the invitations. If I touch a speck of glitter I’ll break out in hives,” Wednesday remarks coldly to Enid. Enid sticks out her tongue and snarks, “well some people who aren’t goth and edgy actually like it.” 

“Well, I’ll come. It sounds like fun. Who else did you invite?” you ask, eyes flickering nervously between the two. 

“Uh, Ajax and Yoko…and Bianca I think,” Enid counts her fingers as she lists the names. Your whole body freezes over. Crap. 

“You invited Bianca?” you mutter through gritted teeth. Enid shrugs.

 “Why not? Maybe Wednesday can take her down a couple pegs for once. Otherwise she’s not too bad.”

“You don’t approve of Bianca?” Wednesday eyes you. You sigh. “She’s my roommate.” You avoid eye contact.

 “And?” Wednesday clearly knows that that isn’t the whole story. 

“It’s nothing…she’s just kind of bossy and stuff,” you mumble, accidentally letting the other side of you show as you begin fiddling with your shirt. Wednesday says nothing but narrows her eyes. 

“Well, I have to get going. Art class and stuff,” you quickly stand, turning away so that Wednesday can’t see your pink cheeks. Seriously? Do you really like this expressionless goth girl? There’s no chance anyway. You dump your food in the trash and exit the quad, leaving Endi and Wednesday behind.

After a long day of classes, you sit in the corner of the cozy and warm library. Typically the best spot in Nevermore, since no one actually comes in here to read, albeit the occasional couple that comes to make out. Luckily, it’s empty today. You have your earbuds playing gentle music as you flip through a horror novel, when you hear murmurs of conversation from the main room to your left.

“The cover was darker…more like a day old contusion. Keep looking.” The voice is Wednesday’s. You peek in between cases to see a disembodied hand covered in scars and stitches rifling through the shelf above Wednesday’s head.

Your heart begins pounding so loud that you are almost positive that Wednesday can hear you as you try to focus on your book as Mrs. Thornhill enters the library, having a small discussion with her. You feel anxiety beginning to bubble in your chest, threatening to well up and out of you. Furious with yourself, you grip your arm tightly, creating small gashes in your skin. You let out a small gasp of pain and slap your hand over your mouth, burying your nails deeper while doing so. You pull your sleeves far over the marks, biting your lip almost clean through as the pain makes you feel a little bit dizzy.

“What are you doing here?”

Wednesday is standing in front of you, the hand perched on her shoulder. You wipe your eyes, and try wiping your face of emotions as you say casually,

“R-reading…” you gesture to the book that lays beside you on the beanbag. She shakes her head. “I smell blood.”

“Oh.. uh, odd…” you stammer, your voice cracking a little bit, looking away. You don’t want to meet her prying eyes. She knows. How does she know? “It’s nothing. I’m fine.” 

The hand leaps from Wednesday’s shoulder, grabbing your sleeve. Panicking, you tussle with the hand before its strength inevitably wins over, and succeeds in revealing the blood trickling and clotting on your arm. 

Wednesday’s eyes widen as she kneels next to you, grabbing your arm. You expected her touch to be cold and rough, but it is simply gentle as she asks.

“Who hurt you?”

Refusing to answer, you don’t meet her gaze. It’s obvious you’re blushing and you’re feeling embarrassed that she sees you as being so weak. 

“I said, who hurt you?” She repeats, putting her hand to your face and turning it to face hers. 

“Nobody,” you stammer, voice cracking as her gaze falls on your bloodied fingernails. 

“Don’t,” is all she says, letting her hand fall. You hug your knees. “I don’t do it. Ever. I-It was an accident,” you lie, biting your lip and pulling your sleeve down again, wincing. 

“What were you reading?” Wednesday says, changing the topic. You glance at your book. “Just a horror novel. Nothing much,” you respond, forcing the heat in your cheeks to die down and shoving your anxiety down.

“Stephen King,” Wednesday remarks. Her stiff tone is replaced with a softer one that you haven’t heard before. It makes you want to be closer. But that is unacceptable. 

“Take care of yourself, okay? I’m sure at least Enid would be upset if she saw this,” Wednesday says, making direct eye contact. You feel your heart flare as you nod. 

Then she’s gone, the hand going with her. 

That night, you sit in your dorm, typing an essay on your laptop. Your side of the room, while preferably would be covered in shades of red or yellow, is coated in pale blues and grays; your roommate Bianca, decorated it and refused to change it, so your attempts to show your personality were useless.

Speaking of the devil, Bianca is sitting on her bed, painting her nails, and admiring herself in her mirror. You try to turn yourself away from her; simply interacting with her gives you intense anxiety. After using her siren song to force you into hurting yourself as a joke, trust is an abstract concept between the two of you, so you try not to talk to her, which is hard to do since she’s so full of herself.

“So, Y/N, did you meet that new freak today?” Bianca smirks, not taking her eyes off her nails. “The goth girl with an appendage for a friend?” You don’t respond, feeling your heart pounding at the mention of Wednesday. You let out a sigh of frustration. Why can’t you just be mysterious and not transparent for once in your life?

“Did you hear me? I asked you a question,” Bianca turns to face you. You still don’t respond, not wanting to provoke a reaction. You turn up the music to drown her out, smiling faintly when you can’t hear her piercing voice. 

You let out a cry of fear and surprise when the collar of your shirt is grabbed, and you’re yanked backwards and onto the floor.

“Listen to me when I say this,” Bianca says, kneeling beside you as you gasp for air, rubbing the new ring around your neck. “Respond to me when I talk to you. Did you meet the new girl today?” She repeats, tone cold. 

Unfortunately for you, the force of the blow and the fear of the pain you’ve already suffered is too much, and you feel your breaths start coming in gasps as you try to get a grip. 

“Because the word around here is that you’ve got a thing for her,” Bianca smirks. You don’t respond; you can’t. Your heart is racing faster than a cheetah and you can barely breath since your lungs are heaving for oxygen. 

“I said, respond to me when I talk to you,” Bianca says stiffly, standing and grasping her siren necklace. 

The next day passes quickly. You don’t go to your dorm once. Classes suck; you can barely pay attention due to your throbbing head. The abuse that you suffered last night overtakes any attention span that you might have had otherwise. It doesn’t matter anyway since you don’t get much of your homework done on a normal basis. 

You avoid Wednesday and Enid; it isn’t as if you don’t want to hang out with them, but rather you don’t want them to worry about you since the dorm party is tonight. Aside from the now bandaged gouges from yesterday, you now have a throbbing head, and a long scar on your collarbone. You can’t remember what Bianca did to you; but you know that it was controlled and self-inflicted.

You knock on Enid’s dorm door, which is opened by Enid herself. The room is decorated with brightly colored lanterns, except for the right side, which is dark and pale. You carry a small book; a horror novel by Stephen King for Wednesday, and a plushie for Enid, as gifts. 

“Welcome! You can put your stuff over on the table. You ready to get this party started?” Enid giggles, dragging you over to the carpet on the floor. Ajax is the only one there so far, and its comical to see how hard she’s crushing on him.

Wednesday is sitting on her bed, observing what’s happening in the room. You wave at her a bit and she nods at you, gaze flickering to your collarbone and hardening for a second. Nervous, you break away from her stare and sit down on the carpet opposite Ajax.

“So..what are we going to do tonight?” You ask Enid, who flops dramatically onto the rug in front of you. 

“Normal party games. Truth or Dare, Skeletons in the Closet…Spin the Bottle,” Enid blushes, glancing at Ajax. You nod, not paying much attention as you feel Wednesday’s stare burning into your neck, almost as painful as the marks on your collarbone. You pull your shirt higher over the marks so that they’re impossible to see.

Bianca and Yoko arrive, and the party begins. Snacks are passed around, followed by drinks, which you politely refuse. Light banter takes up the first forty five minutes before Ajax finally complains,

“Enid you said this party's be lit! Let’s play something for once!” 

“Okay fine then! Spin the Bottle first, though,” Enid giggles. The snacks and drinks clearly have had an effect on us; we’re feeling pretty loose and drowsy, so nobody objects.

A bottle is retrieved and placed in the middle of the rug while you arrange yourselves in a small circle around it. Your heart is starting to thump in your chest. You don’t care who you have to kiss as long as it isn’t Bianca. When the siren makes eye contact with you, you flinch as she smirks at your collarbone, even though it is concealed.

“Hey Wednesday, are you going to play with us?” Enid calls Wednesday, who is sitting on her bed still. 

“If I must,” she responds, seating herself next to you. You have a nagging feeling that she didn’t join the game just to play. Your theory is confirmed as she continues glancing at your collarbone, and you feel your cheeks returning to that typical shade of red you receive whenever you’re around her.

The bottle is spun. People are kissed. Yoko and Enid. Bianca and Ajax. Vice versa. It goes around for a while before it is your turn. You spin it, and it lands on Ajax. Thank God. You give each other a quick peck, everyone around you giggling, except for Wednesday. 

Another round is played. Music hums in the background, easing your social anxiety as you watch Enid and Bianca kiss, and then Yoko and Ajax. The room is considerably more giggly and drunk when Bianca spins. Your heart begins to pound and you feel your breath hitch as the bottle end slows and stops pointing at you.

“No,” you whisper, just to yourself. Bianca smirks, clearly drinking in the moment as she stands. “Pucker up, Y/N,” she grins. You shake your head, backing up. Wednesday watches, gaze darting back and forth between you and Bianca. 

“You have to kiss her. It’s the rules,” Ajax says, frowning. Enid says nothing, and Yoko looks on, concerned, flickering in her gaze. Bianca beckons for you to come closer but you shake your head, feeling your breathing speed up.

Not now. Please not now. The world rocks around you and you stumble to your feet as you stagger off to the side,

“I-I just need a sec-” you gasp, opening the closet door by Enid’s bed, and shutting it, locking yourself inside. You try going through your breathing exercises, but you’re beginning to spiral, which is never a good sign. You don’t want to play Spin the Bottle. Or Skeletons in the Closet. What if everyone finds out you have a thing for Wednesday?

You slap a hand over your mouth as a sob escapes, burying your head in your arms as your lungs heave, straining for any traces of oxygen that aren’t coming as they should. You can hear the guests in the dorm murmuring with concern as Enid clears her throat,

“Well um…let’s just give her some space until she’s feeling a bit better…and maybe let’s play a different game.”

They guests murmur in approval. You hear footsteps approaching the closet and your panic increases, assuming it’s Bianca come to rub her smugness in your face. As the door opens, your eyes widen when you see Wednesday.

She closes the door and drops beside you in silence as you fight for breath while you furiously wipe a tear from your eye. The pain Bianca inflicted the night before is piling onto the tightness in your chest. 

“It’s okay,” Wednesday says quietly, scooting a bit closer as you fight for breath. You try to push her away, even though it’s what you so desperately want and need. “D-don’t please…y-you don’t have t-to…” you gasp, sobs mixing with your racing breaths. “I know it’s hard but try to focus on my breathing, okay?” She murmurs, deeply inhaling and exhaling. She takes your hand and gently places it against her chest so you can feel her breathing.

Slowly you start calming down, breathing wise. As you’re able to draw in more oxygen, you cover your mouth with your hands as the tears begin to flow. 

“I’m sorry….” you sob, looking at Wednesday, whose normally expressionless face is drawn back in concern. 

“For what?”

“You shouldn’t have to worry about me,” you let yourself cry, burying your face in your hands. Your breath hitches as Wednesday wraps her arms around your waist. The affectionate touch shatters the bottle in which you’ve held your emotions and anxiety, and you bury your head in her shoulder, hiccups and gasps following your muffled sobs. Wednesday holds you tighter, one hand threading itself into your hair as she whispers to you.

You’re crying too hard to focus on what Wednesday is saying, but her touch is so comforting that you can’t help but lean into it. You don’t care that you like her. You just want to be loved. When the tears finally dry, you find yourself tangled in each other's arms, listening to the deep breathing as if in a trance.

“I’m sorry if I made things uncomfortable,” you sniff, wiping your face on your sleeve. 

“They never were,” Wednesday murmurs. “What are these?” Wednesday says, running her hands over your arms. Now that your jacket is gone, all the self-inflicted wounds are revealed. You flinch, and avoid her gaze, shaking your head.

Wednesday gently takes your face in her hands, tilting it to meet her eyes. “Y/N, why are you hurting yourself?” She murmurs, eyes choked with emotion. 

“I have really bad anxiety, and uh…whenever it gets really bad I end up hurting myself to try and get it to stop but that kinda only makes it worse…” you admit quietly, letting out another small sob. Wednesday says nothing, but pulls you closer to her, allowing you to curl up next to her. She runs her hand through your hair, stroking it softly. 

“Can we not tell anyone about this?” you murmur. She nods, slowly letting go of you. You feel disappointment coursing through you as she does; it felt so good to be in that pose. You decide not to tell her about how much you long for physical attention. She’s already been going out of the way to help you too much.

“Let’s get out of this closet,” Wednesday says. Her face returns to the typical slack expression as she stands. You do too, trying to wipe your face of tears as she does of emotion. She opens the door.

Enid, Ajax, Yoko, and Bianca are lounging around the room. The lights are dimmer now, and the music is a bit louder. Clearly the party has hit its stride; everyone is either drowsy or drunk. You don’t make eye contact with anyone until Enid looks at you, mouthing ‘are you okay?’. You nod at her, and she gives you a thumbs up before returning to her drowsy conversation with Yoko about the Poe Cup or something.

Wednesday gives your hand a small squeeze before leaving you to sit on her side of the room; which is completely deserted; it makes sense since half the people at Nevermore think she’s a serial killer. 

As she lays on her bed, she thinks about you. She might have a crush on you, but she doesn’t know whether or not you don’t like her or fear her. Sure she comes off as a serial killer, but she isn’t that bad. When she comforted you, she actually felt an emotion other than emptiness for once. She wants to be there for you. And for the first time ever, she might be scared to admit it. 

The rest of the party goes normally. Presents are opened. Thank-you's are exchanged. Enid adores the stuffie you gave her and holds it all night. When Wednesday receives her gift, the only one that isn’t absolutely ridiculous or ill-fitting, her eyebrows lift slightly in recognition and she looks at you, nodding in thanks. You smile back, blushing.

Finally, the mood fades, everyone exhausted or too drunk to really do anything. It makes you smirk to see Bianca drunk. As everyone prepares for bed, you retrieve your sleeping bag from the door, where all the bags had been placed. When you go to put it down, you realize that the only actually available spot is next to Bianca.

You deeply inhale, biting your lip to try to keep yourself from shaking as you unroll your sleeping bag next to her neon blue one. She smirks loosely at you, but doesn’t say anything. Shivering from the cold and the adrenaline you’re trying to quiet, you slip into the bag as Enid turns the lights off and the room is thrown into silence.

Soon, deep breathing from different parts of the room begin to echo, signaling that most of the others have fallen asleep. You, on the other hand, are restless. Slight twinges of fear poke at your side, particularly the side Bianca is sleeping on. Throughout the night you toss back and forth, trying to find a comfortable position while that quite insistent voice of fear repeatedly bugs you, making it impossible for you to find rest. The darkness isn’t helping. So when you hear a whisper in the dark, it takes you a second to comprehend whether or not it was real.

“Can’t sleep?”

You open your eyes and squint in the darkness to see Wednesday sitting cross-legged on her bed, her back against the wall. You nod at her. 

“Me neither,” she says quietly. You don’t say anything, but she looks at you as if she can see everything you’re feeling. After a couple of moments, she beckons with her head for you to come over. You slowly sit up, glancing at Bianca’s sleeping form every now and then before crawling over to Wednesday’s side of the room, which is comfortably empty.

“You’re avoiding Bianca.” She murmurs to you as you lean against her bed frame. You nod, not making eye contact as you look at the sleeping forms on Enid’s side. “Is that why you can’t sleep?” 

You nod again, not saying what goes unspoken between you two. “Um…I’m not feeling so great…could I maybe sleep with you?” you mumble, blushing as she looks at you and nods, scooting to the side to give you more room. 

[myonos]

HELLO?

previous | next | masterlist

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All of you decided to eat first and then shop.

The food court is packed with restaurants with all different types of food.

You get yourself pad thai, and Jake decides to get himself the same.

As you sit next to each other, he bumps your shoulder.

“What?”

“What are you planning on getting here?”

You shrug, “I was planning on getting a new pair of shoes but maybe I’ll get some new clothes, my closet needs a refresher.”

Jake nods, slurping his noodles, “I’ll just stick with you then, I’m not planning on getting anything.”

“Good,” you smirk, “That means you can be my judge.”

Jake groans as he realizes what he’s gotten himself into.

You’ve been through this in the past, when you shop, you shop forever.

“I’m surprised you even trust me with judging clothes, you used to tell me I had no sense of style.”

You snicker, “You didn’t, but that was back then. I’d say now you’re pretty stylish.”

Everyone comes back with their own food, and conversation erupts from everywhere. You hear multiple complaints about school, one about being broke (Niki), and other general talk.

It takes about half an hour for everyone to be fully finished.

Heeseung takes it upon himself to secure everyone’s attention, “We’ll meet back here in what, an hour?”

“2 hours!” Ningning interjects.

“For what?” Sunghoon demands.

“How you guys shop and how we girls shop is very different,” Hanni says.

“Fine,” Heeseung settles, “2 hours.”

Everyone splits up and you take the initiative to grab Jake’s hand, tugging him in the direction of the shoe store.

You find the shoes you want with ease, making sure they have your size before ringing up at the counter.

You take on the next store, deciding on finding some new jeans to spice up your closet.

Jake sits in front of the changing room, waiting for you to come out.

“What do you think of this top with these jeans?”

He looks up, and wow.

The outfit is simple, flared jeans with a white, long sleeve shirt, but you look beautiful.

Jake has always admired how beautiful you are and yet recently he feels like he hasn’t appreciated it enough.

“It looks great!”

“Are you being honest?” You question with your eyes narrowed and lips pouted.

You’re so cute, Jake just wishes he could kiss you.

Wait what?

────────────────────────

You spend the next 2 hours dragging Jake into multiple stores and trying on multiple shirts, pants, dresses, etc.

It’s almost time for you all to meet back up, but you decide to drag Jake to one more store.

“Why are we here, I told you I’m not buying anything?” He questions.

You both currently stand in what Jake would consider his favorite store to shop from.

“I’m buying you something.”

Jake protests immediately, “You don’t have to do that!”

“I want to, it just feels right.”

He continues to protest but you ignore him as you drag him to the center of the store.

“Pick something!”

He shakes his head, standing with his arms crossed.

You sigh, taking his hands into your own.

You give Jake the biggest, sweetest puppy eyes you can manage.

“Please Jakey?” You whine, a big, exaggerated pout on your face.

How can he say no?

“Fine,” he says as you squeal happily.

He takes a minute to look around and spots a shirt he likes.

“What about this?” He puts it against his body to show you and you nod.

“It looks great.”

You go to the counter to pay and the cashier gives you both a look.

“You must be grateful your girlfriend is willing to buy you clothes.”

Jake can feel heat rising to his cheeks, do you look like a couple?

He’s about to open his mouth and correct her but before he can, you speak.

“I love buying him things he wants.”

His eyes widened beside you, you didn’t deny it.

The cashier bagged his shirt and handed it to you.

As you leave the store and head back to the food court, Jake’s heart feels like it’s about to beat out of his chest.

This is too much, why would you do that?

Do you know how he feels? Did he accidentally expose himself?

All he can think about is you.

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notes: i’m sure you all saw this coming but iiii still think it’s cute 🫣 pls ignore any typos except for in the texts that’s on purpose LOL

taglist: @theskzvibe @jaeyunsfav

permanent taglist: @escapetheash

[ourlittleforever]

Love is Stored in the Kitchen

Arvad's love language is food. Pre-relationship fluff.

Rating: G

Words: ~1500

Warnings: none

Also on AO3!

Knock knock. The sound of someone at the door yanked Millie from their thoughts; they’d been so focused on unpacking their bags that they hadn’t even heard anyone approach the door. “Come in!”

They tossed the last of their dresses onto the bed and clambered to their feet, dusting their skirt off as the door opened. Arvad, the ship’s chief of security, was standing awkwardly in the doorway, holding a plate with a towel over the top of it. He nodded politely to them.

“I brought you something.”

“I see that,” Millie teased, carefully stepping over the vast array of their belongings strewn about the floor. They sniffed, catching the scent of chocolate and sugar, and their eyes lit up. “Are those… cookies?”

“Yes.” Arvad handed them the plate, and the warlock gingerly lifted the towel. The cookies were chocolate chip, perfectly golden and delightfully soft. They picked one up and took a bite, a hum of contentment escaping their throat.

“Oh my goodness. These are amazing.” Millie stuffed the rest of the cookie in their mouth without thinking; Arvad was watching with a quietly pleased expression. “You didn’t have to,” they said, covering their mouth as they finished chewing. “But thanks!” They paused, then quickly added, “I’ll try not to eat them all at once. Or so messily. Sorry.”

“I’m glad you enjoy them,” he replied, stepping away from the door. “Welcome aboard.”

—

“Millie, can you come here?”

Millie backpedaled, still amazed Arvad could tell their footsteps apart from everyone else’s. He said they walked heavily; they’d tried to walk lighter, but he always knew it was them. Millie poked their head into the kitchen. “What’s up?”

“Can you taste this for me?”

“Sure. What is it?” Millie sauntered over to the stove, where Arvad was cooking some type of stew. The liquid was a deep, ruddy orange, and they could see bits of beef, potatoes, and carrots floating in the mixture.

“Benalish beef stew.” Arvad dipped a clean spoon into the stew and, cupping his hand under it, held it out to Millie. Without even thinking to take the spoon for themself, Millie leaned forward, savoring the taste of the stew on their tongue. It was hearty, flawlessly seasoned, and reminded them of their home in the Croger mountains. Millie’s eyes fluttered shut at a memory of their grandmother, standing at the stove as they studied, humming an odd tune.

They stepped back, and upon realizing what they’d done, Millie’s face became uncomfortably warm. Arvad was seemingly unfazed, placing the spoon in the sink, but there was a slight stiffness in his movements now. He glanced at Millie over his shoulder. “What did you think?”

“It’s wonderful. As always.” Millie glanced at their feet, trying not to think of how close they were to him, and how he’d given them a taste of the stew, his fingers so close to their face. “Why do you have me taste-test your food? You know it’s going to come out amazing.”

“I was worried about the spices I chose,” Arvad admitted.

“You don’t have to worry. You’re an excellent cook.”

“Thank you,” he replied, rubbing the back of his neck. Millie was acutely aware of how close he was standing to them, the subtle scent of his cologne (“Even a vampire needs to smell nice,” he’d said), the shadow he cast on them as his imposing height blocked the low light in the kitchen. The warlock’s body felt warm in his presence.

The world saw a vampire. Millie saw… Arvad, the gentlest person they’d ever met. Their eyes caught on his soft belly, hanging over his belt slightly, and they quickly glanced away – but they were, admittedly, pleased that he wasn’t all-muscle, all-the-time. “Um. I should get going. I’ll set the table.”

“Alright. I’ll meet you out there in a bit.”

Millie shuffled out of the kitchen, their face beet red, heart thumping, and thoughts racing.

—

“Hey, how come Arvad lets you in the kitchen when he’s cooking?” Raff asked, setting his chin in his hand. He frowned deeply. “He always tells me to get out if I try to come in.”

“Are you casting spells while you’re in there?”

“That was one time!”

“So that’s the reason,” Millie replied, taking a bite of their sandwich. Arvad had prepared Raff and their sandwiches for the day; the warlock and the wizard were sent to retrieve spellcasting supplies while Jhoira, Shanna, Arvad, and Tiana spoke to Benalish officials about the crew’s next move. The youngest members of the Weatherlight had been a bit annoyed at being left behind, but ultimately, Millie didn’t mind. Raff was pleasant company. They were surprised to learn he was seven years their junior, as he was incredibly well-spoken and intelligent.

“That’s not the reason. He doesn’t want Shanna or Jhoira or Tiana in there, either,” Raff huffed. “I think he likes you.”

“Whatever,” Millie said, but they could feel heat creeping up their neck at the thought. Millie noticed that Raff’s sandwich was stacked with lettuce, tomatoes, and some kind of sauce. Their own sandwich was plain, with cheese and turkey.

Some time ago, Arvad had packed them a lunch with a vegetable filled sandwich; Millie had tried to stomach it out of politeness, but they barely got half of it down due to the textures. They’d never told Arvad they didn’t enjoy sandwiches like that.

He remembered.

“What’s so dreamy about turkey and cheese?” Raff asked, snapping Millie out of their thoughts.

“Nothing.” Millie glanced in the basket, where four cookies sat in a neat paper package. Oatmeal – their favorite. A soft smile tugged at the corners of their lips.

“Thinking about your knight?”

“No…”

“You are!” Raff reached across the table and poked Millie’s arm. “You’re too easy to read! How come you don’t make a move?”

“It wouldn’t be…”

“Wouldn’t be what?”

“I don’t know.” Millie sighed. “I don’t want – well, if things ended up badly… the crew… I wouldn’t want to make things weird.”

“You worry too much.”

“Just trying to be practical.”

Raff reached into the basket to retrieve two cookies, wrinkling his nose. “Oatmeal? Yuck!” He handed them to Millie. “Here, take ‘em. I hate oatmeal.”

Millie blinked, then grinned.

—

“Ow,” Millie pulled their arm out of the blackberry brambles and examined the scratches flaring on their skin. Hot bright red welts danced across the ivory, and they winced. They’d left their witch-hazel back on the ship, of course – Millie had no idea they were allergic to the brambles. They sat back in the grass, considering their options. The warlock looked over at Arvad, then back at their splotchy arms and the angry contusions forming on their skin. Millie didn’t want him to be alone out here.

The things I do for love.

Millie reached into their side bag and found a few strips of cotton gauze, for emergency use. Gingerly, they wrapped their arms in the fabric, then set back into the blackberry bush. Their hands itched and burned, and their arms weren’t any better, but they endured, leaning further into the bush. A cluster of blackberries hovered just in front of their short, stubby fingers, taunting them. Millie canted into the bush, desperately trying to keep their face out of the thorns’ way. “C’mon… almoooooost… Damnit…”

“Millie.”

They yipped and nearly leapt from the grass, Arvad’s hand on their shoulder being the only thing keeping them on the ground. He knelt beside them, taking their hands in his. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were allergic.”

“Me neither,” they murmured with a defeated little chuckle. “Oh well. It’s nothing a good washing and some witch-hazel can’t fix.” They nodded to the bush. “There’s a really good cluster in there, but I can’t reach it. I wanted to get it before we left.”

“I think we have enough. But…” Arvad reached into the brush, squinting in the darkness. There was a snapping sound, and he pulled his hand out, blackberries in hand. “Here. You’re not allergic to the berries themselves, right?”

“Right.” Millie opened their hand, and Arvad dropped the berries into their open palm. “Thank you,” they said, and they popped the berries into their mouth. Juice dribbled down their chin, and Millie giggled despite themself, despite the burning and itching and the sensation of a bug crawling over their leg.

This was good.

Arvad smile – a true, beautiful, wonderful smile, and Millie’s heart ached. “You know,” he said, “I can’t eat real food anymore, but… it’s nice to watch others enjoy it.” His voice held a bittersweet quality as he spoke. “I’ll just live vicariously through you, when it comes to eating.”

“Is that why you’re always trying to fatten me up?” The warlock scowled. “Hey! Don’t snicker! I’ve gained thirty pounds!”

He laughed. Arvad never laughed, but he laughed for Millie. In spite of themself, they laughed, too.

The sun set, and the two walked back to the Weatherlight, itchy little hand in calloused hand.

[jaesxnuwu]

Chapter IV: Conversations & Food

I wasn’t exactly thrilled to be kept waiting while backup came to shuttle the perps and victim away. Sometimes we ended up getting spread thin, so situations like this couldn’t be helped. I checked my phone periodically just to see how much further away backup was. I also made sure to keep a close eye on the three I was watching over.

Initially the criminals would not stop apologizing, probably because they hoped I would let them go if they looked pathetic enough. It didn’t take long for them to realize that I wouldn’t budge, so they turned to just sulking quietly instead. The victim was a bit roughed up from earlier, but it was nothing life-threatening so I left him to do his own thing for the time being. I couldn’t let him go yet either though, since he still needed to be taken in for treatment and questioning. After he had his nerves under control, he began pacing around and making some calls, probably to some people who were looking for him.

I wonder if I can just freeze them to the wall and get some food. I still need to figure out what to do about dinner, and my options are getting limited as the night goes on. I could probably manage to pin them down without giving them frostbite or permanent damage, but the main problem would be if some of their friends show up after I leave and break them out before backup arrives. I wouldn’t be surprised if they had some friends hoping for exactly that. I guess it’s not worth it. At this rate, I will probably have to stop by the convenience store on my way home.

It's not that I mind that either, but I was hoping for some fresh food today.

“Do you need my assistance, captain?” a familiar deep voice called out to me. It was my lieutenant. I almost flinched when I heard him. For some reason he was pretty good at sneaking up on me. It was probably his training as a sniper, or at least that’s what I always thought.

“Oh, Crow. I didn’t see you there or on the map actually,” I looked up, trying to hide my surprise, “Were you dealing with a case just now?”

“Yes, captain. I had my location concealed for security purposes.”

“Gotcha,” I nodded.

I guess to be fair, I also turn mine off, even when I just don’t want to be bothered. But I’m not going to tell him that part. Even though he probably wouldn’t say anything, I know serious types like him would probably judge me for it.

I slipped my phone back in my pocket for the time being to give Crow my full attention. He looked back down at me with his bright amber eyes. I felt like I was relatively average in height, but he always made me feel so much smaller when he looked down at me.

I’m standing at around his chest level, so I have to tilt my head up slightly to look at him. Realistically, as his captain, I could just tell him to kneel when he speaks to me from now on, but I’m not really that type of person. From our interactions, I don’t think he would care either, with him being so loyal to the hierarchy.

I just think I would feel awkward with that sort of special treatment.

He did have a naturally intimidating stare, especially since you couldn’t make out his expression behind his mask, but again because of our difference in rank, I knew he didn’t mean anything by it to me. I always wondered what he was thinking about whenever we would talk though. I almost got lost in thought again before I remembered what he asked me.

“And regarding the situation here, captain?” Crow signaled toward the group on the floor.

“Oh, right. No, I’m fine. As you can see,” I pointed over my shoulder, “I dealt with the situation. I just sent out a request for backup, so they could transfer the criminals and victim over and also deal with the cleanup.”

“I understand. Then I’ll be on my way as well then, captain,” Crow nodded and began to turn away.

It was always like this whenever I talked to him. He was short and to the point with everything. If I didn’t need him, he would just go back to work. I still wasn’t sure which division he used to belong to either, since I barely managed to get a word in, and I didn’t really think to make friends in general within the Guard.

Now that I think about it, based off how quickly he managed to respond, he was probably dealing with something nearby. I mean maybe if he would have finished whatever he was dealing with sooner, then I wouldn’t have had to cancel my dinner plans!

I knew it was dumb and illogical, and it wasn’t really his fault. It was just an unlucky string of events for me tonight, but I was hungry, and maybe that made me a bit grumpy. I just wanted to eat, and maybe chat with someone for a bit to unwind. I didn’t really have anyone else I could hit up on such short notice either.

Screw it. I may as well get to know my own lieutenant anyway.

“Wait, hang on Crow,” I walked up, intending to rest my hand on his shoulder, but realized how awkward of a position it would be to reach that high, so I settled on tugging on the back of his shirt instead, “If you don’t have anything urgent that needs to get done, I did want to ask you for a favor.”

“Of course. What can I do for you, captain?” Crow stopped and turned his head back just enough to meet my gaze.

“Have you had dinner yet?”

“No, captain.”

“When were you planning to eat then?”

“Unplanned at the moment, captain.”

I remember why I stopped trying to talk to this guy already. But I did decide to take him out tonight, so I’m prepared to have to deal with this level of stiffness at least.

“Well, I kind of had my dinner plans ruined tonight because of those idiots. I was going to stop by the convenience store and get something from there. Do you wanna grab something with me, too?” I asked casually, trying to get him to loosen up a bit from the start.

“Are you asking for my company, captain?” Crow’s eyes widened for just a split second before returning to normal. It seemed like my question caught him by surprise for just a moment, but he immediately continued without missing a beat, “I can eat with you, if that is what you’re requesting.”

I guess for now, I’ll take that answer as good enough.

“Mhm, that’s exactly what I’m asking” I gave him a friendly smile and nodded, “And you can ease up on calling me ‘captain’ after everything you say, by the way.”

“Okay, I can do that for you.”

--

Even though we had our plans set now, I still had to wait around in silence with Crow for a while. I tried to make a bit more conversation, but quickly realized it was best to give up. He mentioned something about his concerns over leaking sensitive information with civilians and criminals being able to hear our conversation. I was planning to make small talk anyway, but we could do that later. When our backup finally arrived, I ended up explaining the situation to them while Crow hovered over me quietly.

It’s not that I feel uncomfortable with how he carries himself, but I feel bad sometimes because I’m worried he might be bored being on standby mode all the time. That’s why I told him to ease up on all the protocol crap while we’re off duty.

We walked side by side down the chatty streets in silence. There was a convenience store on the corner just nearby, so I decided to take us there. Most of these stores also had a few designated tables for people to eat because of how many people ended up coming here just for the quick meal or pick-me-up. Bright lights and neon signs surrounded us at every direction, but it was clear more than a few shops were starting to close down for the night as well.

Every so often I would take a quick peek up at him to see if there were any hints of how he was feeling, but he always had that same intense look. He would catch me every time too and look down to meet my eyes. I smiled each time, and he, in return, gave a small nod in affirmation before we both turned our heads forward again.

This is awkward. I really hope this actually works.

We finally arrived and entered the convenience store. A familiar musical jingle greeted us as the sliding doors parted and the refreshing cold air blew in our faces. I glanced over when I remembered how minimal Crow’s uniform was.

“Aren’t you cold?” I asked as I took a glance at him.

“No. I’m used to much more extreme conditions anyway. You don’t have to worry about me, captain,” Crow assured as he adjusted his shirt slightly.

“Oh, alright,” I nodded, half expecting a response like that anyway.

There was a guy in uniform, probably around my age, who was stocking one of the shelves with some snacks by the checkout area in the front. He looked up briefly at us to give us a defeated greeting before returning to his task. That worked out for the best anyway, I usually preferred using the self-checkout systems in these stores.

I walked Crow over toward the opposite side where all the machines and cooking stations were. A bunch of little snacks, like wings, sushi trays, and sandwiches lined the shelves nearby.

“What do you feel like eating?” I looked at Crow, still perched right next to me.

“I’ll just get onigiri” Crow reached up to grab two rice balls.

“That’s all? I was going to make some instant ramen and add some stuff to it. I can get you one too if you want.”

“No, this is enough.”

I sat down across from Crow after I finished adding a boiled egg and some slices of chicken to my ramen. The package said it was the spicy flavor, but it was relatively mild in my opinion. Crow looked at me silently with his two onigiri sitting neatly between his arms.

“Oh, sorry about that. Were you waiting for me?” I felt bad for making him sit still like that.

“It’s not a problem. I wasn’t going to start before you since you did say that you wanted to eat together, captain.”

“Well, thanks for waiting for me then,” I smiled as I took my chopsticks in my hand and went in for my first bite.

It was pretty good, much better than I had expected. I let out a small moan in satisfaction. It certainly wasn’t as good as what I would have been able to eat earlier, but it was still pretty damn tasty. I got caught up taking several mouthfuls of ramen before I remembered to look up and see how Crow was doing.

He peeled back an opening of his mask by his mouth and silently took a bite of his rice ball. He definitely seemed to be a bigger fan of them than I could ever be since I noticed immediately a small smile had formed after his first taste.

I couldn’t help but smile a little myself. It was nice to see him show a bit of emotion after all our short exchanges today.

“Is that one of your favorite things to get when you’re on the go?” I took this window of time to try asking something simple.

Crow looked up, still smiling slightly and nodded.

“Yeah, it is. I’m not a guy who is big on carbs, but anything with rice is alright in my book,” Crow continued before stuffing another bit of rice in his mouth.

It’s not the first fact I thought I’d learn about him, but I’ll take it.

Art: @/holysarvel

[dancingkirby]

Another Subject One snippet

Yes, I started Chapter 3 with fanservice-y shirtless Crow. Why? Because I could.

WARNINGS: Brief mention of organ harvesting. Crow's potty mouth.

Today had started out on the good side of average.  There’d been enough food for everyone in the house to have a good breakfast, and afterwards Crow had decided to take advantage of the nice weather to give Blackbird a long-overdue cleaning and wax.  So he’d stripped down to his oldest pair of shorts, hauled out the hose, and got to work.  The kids helped, as far as that went.  Mostly they just gleefully ran through the stream of water and played in the soapy mud puddles that were forming on the ground.  But this was Satellite, where fun things happened once in a blue moon.  Crow wasn’t about to begrudge them that. 

He was finishing up with the rinsing when he first became aware of the shadow above him.  At first he thought it might be a storm cloud moving in, and regretted his bad timing.  Then, when the hose (and its background noise) had been shut off and he was trying to dry his D-Wheel off quickly before the rain started, he realized that clouds didn’t generally make a whirring sound. 

He looked up when the kids started shouting and pointing, quickly realizing two things.  First off, the sky was still completely clear.  Secondly, there was a helicopter hovering right above them. 

What the hell was this about?  Was this some kind of Security bullshit again?  He hadn’t even done anything wrong for, like, two weeks now!  He activated his duel disk and kept the other hand on his deck.  No matter how outnumbered he might be, he was willing and prepared to fight to the death to protect his kids…

…And then the helicopter door slid open.  Someone very familiar who was definitely not part of Security waved at him and called out, “Crow, it’s just me!”

“…Oh.  Hi Yusei.”  He immediately shut the disk off again.  “Sweet ride you got there; are you sick of the new and improved Yusei Go already?”

“Can’t hear you!” Yusei shouted in response.  Yeah, the noise of the chopper engine was making conversation a little difficult. 

“HOW ABOUT YOU JUST LAND?” Crow yelled at the top of his lungs, cupping his hands around his mouth as a makeshift megaphone.  He gestured at the ground in case they still couldn’t hear him.  Thankfully they got the idea. 

As Yusei disembarked and let the excited, mud-spattered kids run all over him, Crow began, “Sorry we don’t have a fancy landing pad…”  He broke off when he realized that Yusei had not been the only passenger in that helicopter. 

“Crow Hogan, I presume?” another man asked while stepping out of the craft himself.  He was maybe late forties, had a beard, and was attired in a nice suit.  Crow thought that maybe he’d seen him on TV once or twice before.  He had “Tops” written all over him, and looked like the type of guy who would normally be content to pretend that people like Crow didn’t exist. 

He replied, “Yeah, that’s me.  What about it?”

The man inclined his head.  “My name is Izayoi Hideo, and I need you and your friend Yusei to accompany me to Neo Domino.  We’ll explain on the way; we don’t have much time.”

Um.  This situation had gone from “weird” to “absolutely fucking bizarre” in just a few seconds.  Part of him wanted to say “No way” and get back on with his day.  You never trusted anybody from Neo Domino; everyone in Satellite knew that.  They almost invariably wanted to do a photo op so they could brag to their friends about the charitable work they did, and that was if they weren’t there to kidnap you and harvest your organs…

But then again, Yusei seemed to be okay with all this, and he had always been an excellent judge of character. 

“I dunno.  Are you sure he’s on the up and up?” he asked the guy who had been like a brother to him for the past eleven years.

Yusei nodded.  “I’m sure.”

There was no way out of this without acting like a giant asshole, was there?

“Just gimme a few secs to put a shirt on,” he said, rushing off without waiting for an answer.

Once he’d gotten changed back to his regular clothes, and washed his face, and made sure he had deodorant on, and even made an attempt at combing his hair, he went back outside, where no one had moved. 

“Ginga, you put Blackbird in the garage and then make sure everyone gets to Martha’s house,” he ordered.  Looks like there wasn’t going to be any waxing done today after all, and he’d have to hose the D-Wheel off again later on.  

“Hey!  Why’s Ginga in charge?” demanded Daichi.

“Because he’s the oldest and I say so,” said Crow, in a tone that he hoped would brook no further argument…and also not quite believing that he was using that frustrating tactic that Martha would spring on them all the time.  “Now go.”

[iamvegorott]

Don't Starve Emotions Ch. 9

A Peek of Disaster

“A science machine needs one gold, four wood, and four stone,” Mad stated as he was finally freed from Mare’s lap and stood up. “I’d say that after making the science machine, we’ll probably want to make backpacks and crockpots first. This is a pretty good place to make camp since, according to the map, we’re pretty close to the center of it.” 

“Crockpot food has more of a bonus to it,” Phantom explained. “We’ll need more stone, twigs, and some charcoal. I can work on burning some faraway trees for that.”

“I’d like to do the burning, please,” Mad said. 

“Shocking.” Phantom chuckled, getting a look from Mad that made him fully laugh. 

“Want to go gold hunting with me?” Jackie offered. “You-uh-you know what they look-what they look like, and I can do the-uh-the heavy work.” He added with a stammer, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“Sure,” Phantom said softly with a smile. 

“It’s a date.” Mare chuckled, and it became a grunt of pain when Phantom elbowed his side. 

“I think that’s the edge of a pond right there,” Mad commented, studying the map on Bing’s chest again. “We can make some fishing rods and get some fish. Hopefully, there are several around, and then we can get plenty of them…be careful if there are frogs, though. Those things are annoying as hell.”  

“What do we need to make those? Me and Googs can go fish-”

“You are to stay at camp.” Dark cut Bing off. “You are our map. We need you to stay fit and secure. We don’t know how the map is connected to your body. Damage to you can be damage to it, and we can’t risk losing our map.” 

“I’m going to take that as a; we care about you, Bing,” Bing rolled his eyes. 

“We do,” Google said. His eyes went wide, and he started coughing into his hand, hoping that would somehow make Bing and Mad not remember or realize what he had said. “I think-I think Yancy needs me.” Google pointed before heading off. 

“I might be oblivious, and it took Mare literally kissing me to notice he like me, but even I can see that.” Mad giggled before noticing the red on Bing’s cheek and feeling affectionate warmth from him. “And something tells me you feel the same way.” 

“W-What? No, n-no, not at all.” Bing’s face turned a deeper shade of red. 

That totally didn’t make it more obvious. 

“Okay, sure.” Mad giggled again. “If you want to get a start making the rods, you’ll need two sticks and two cobwebs. We can’t make them until after the science machine is built, but we can get a start on setting everything up.” He gave a bright smile before heading over to Mare. “Dark and Anti, Jackie and Phantom, and Bing and Google are the current-” There was a pause as Mad thought about the correct phrase. “-disaster gays?” 

“Very.” Mare chuckled, giving Mad a proud pat on the back. “Want me to join you to burn shit up? We can make-out while we wait for it to finish~” 

“I wouldn’t…I wouldn’t complain.” Mad’s was now the one with a pink face. 

“Never forget you’re a disaster as well.” Mare playfully hummed. Mad tried to pout, but he did want to get a start on everything…and the make-out sounded really nice after everything he’s been through already.

“We can do a straight shot until we reach the edge of the map and burn whatever is nearby.” Mad pointed to where he was planning on heading. “If I hear anything, we’ll adjust as needed.” 

“Sounds like a plan.” Mare wrapped his arm around Mad’s shoulder. “We’re gonna go burn shit!” He called out to the others before they headed off into the trees.

“Don’t get splinters while you fuck!” Anti called after them. 

“Mad should stay behind as well. If he’s our-”

“Let him have some fun.” Anti stopped Dark from finishing. “After all that shit he just went through, let him tongue-fuck his boyfriend in the woods.” 

“Now is not the time for that type of talk or action.” Dark’s comment got Anti to roll his eyes and start using a mocking tone; 

“‘Now is not the time’-maybe if you tongue-fucked someone in the woods, you’d have less of a stick up your ass.” Anti crossed his arms and turned to face Dark. 

“Would you stop saying that?” Dark pinched the bridge of his nose. 

“What? Tongue-fucked? I could say it countless ways, and it’ll all mean the same thing. Get fucked, suck a dick, fucking make-out with someone because you’re filled with so much angst. You’re like a hormonal teenager that needs to get that sexual frustration out.”

“Could you have five seconds when you’re not inappropriate?” 

“Nope~” Anti popped the ending of the word. “I would be myself if I wasn’t.” He did a little shimmy. “Plus, you’d get bored quickly if I wasn’t as fun as I am.”

“I would get bored? I’d prefer if you acted like a mature adult, especially when we’re in a serious situation.” Dark scoffed. 

“Oh, please. There’s a reason you never kick me out when I show up at the Manor. You like my chaos. Admit it.” 

“There is nothing to admit. You don’t get kicked out immediately due to your friendship with the other Ipliers. I have nothing to do with it.” 

“Sure.” Anti giggled, and he turned away, confident that he had won. “Whatever helps you sleep at night, Darky~” 

“He is the biggest pain in my ass,” Dark muttered. 

“Well, that and the stick.” Wilford joked with a wiggle of his eyebrow. 

“You’re the other pain in my ass,” Dark grumbled and walked off to speak with Chase. 

“We’ll bring a couple of extra pickaxes to make sure we can break as much as we can,” Phantom said to Jackie as he crafted. He would have been done by now, but he got distracted by the show Anti and Dark had been putting on. “I know we only need one gold for the science machine, but we’ll need more pieces for other items to make out lives easier as we build up for the whole adventure mode stuff.” 

“Sir, yes, sir.” Jackie did a little salute and got Phantom to laugh a little. 

“You’re a dork.” Phantom handed Jackie some of the pickaxes. 

“I thought I was a himbo?” Jackie’s smile showed he was playing along, hands staying on top of Phantom’s as they both held the tools. 

“Both can work.” Phantom smiled back as he gently squeezed Jackie’s hands. 

“Yous two need help with the rock cracking?” Yancy asked, unaware that he had ruined the moment. 

“Oh-yeah-sure.” Phantom and Jackie quickly moved away from each other.

“Illinois is finishing a talk with Google, and he can come with us too. The more, the merrier, right?” Yancy chuckled.

“More hands mean faster work.” Jackie chuckled as well, giving Yancy one of the pickaxes he held. “With the four of us, we’ll end up breaking all the rocks in this place in no time.” 

“Yep.” Phantom awkwardly clicked his tongue. "No time at all."

[httpjungkookcom]

Wobbly Legs | JJK (m)

Pairing | Jungkook x Reader

Word Count | 7K-ish

Genre | Idol! Jungkook x "Man Eater”! Reader, Established Relationship Now (Excitinggg!!!)

Summary | Jungkook's never shy when asking you to try new things because he knows you'll never judge him, never laugh at him. (With malicious intent anyways.) That doesn't mean he's not nervous, hiding and ducking his head the entire time with a giant blush spread across his face while he's asking. With a bit of coaxing, Jungkook finally spits it out. Unknowingly, he's more in for it than he even realizes.

Index | pegging!!!, sexual content, dirty talking, Jungkook still gets praised a lot, fingering (male and female receiving), oral (male receiving), sub! Jk, bottom! jk, overstimulation, hair pulling, jungkook is still shy and flustered around the reader, jungkook in love like never before, makes sure his sweet gf cums like a good little bf, my personal bias for Jungkook’s nose (sue me lol), Reader is feral by the end of this lmao

A/N | Based off of my previous post, Man Eater Hunting. It's a long one, so I'll give you the general gist of it. Jungkook has a fat crush on the reader who happens to be Namjoon’s best friend, the reader thinks he just wants in her pants so she teases him for a while, pinning after each other for 40k words, and eventually proclaim their undying love for one another. In a secure, happy relationship by the end :) (A lot of fucking in between.) If you’d like to read it, it’s still pinned on my blog I believe. 

Ever since the both of you’ve gone public with your relationship, Jungkook has been happier than ever. He gets to hold your hand in public, kiss your forehead, hug your waist, and do everything else under the sun without the worry of your lecturing. Your identity is still private, and most media respect it enough to at least not post an unblurred photo of your face. There are still plenty of photos of the both of you unblurred, but you try hard to look on the bright side. While being public means stress and worry for you in terms of media and cameras, seeing Kook be so happy makes the familiar warm feeling when you’re with him spread throughout your chest. The members are also all very supportive, their youngest visibly cheerier even on days he’s tired, worn down, or even lost a Mario Cart round against Taehyung. 

You, Namjoon, and Yoongi still have your little group inside the larger group, one that Jungkook’s been trying to invade for the last 3 months. Yoongi constantly kicks him out of your studio, producing party, whatever you wanna call them, nights, claiming it’s a “no boyfriends allowed,” party. Jungkook then gets your favorite food or drink and pouts outside the studio door until you’re all done. Tae and Jimin still take stabs at you and Kook every so often, just enough to start a playful banter but never enough to actually hurt your feelings anymore. Jin has always been supportive and still is if not more. And Hope still takes jabs when he can, more so at Jungkook just to get him going than you. And lastly, Jungkook’s still Jungkook, just as needy as the night you’d met at Joon’s party. 

Date night today, mine or your place? 

Jungkook’s notification flashes across your screen, phone resting on the kitchen island as you cook dinner. A giant smile spreads across your face before you can even think to stop it, rushing to text him back. You type back with your pinky, other fingers too dirty from the ingredients. 

Mine, I’m cooking already :) 

Be there in 15.

He’s over in 10 minutes max, softly knocking on your front door. You open it with your elbows, hands held away from anything that doesn’t need seasoning smeared against it. Quickly, you dodge the embrace that you know happens when Jungkook steps into your apartment, hurriedly running off back to the kitchen. “I don’t wanna get your nice shirt all dirty,” You justify your retreat before he even has a chance to ask, you already know it's coming from the soft exhale you just barely caught while running for security.  

“That doesn’t mean run away from meeee,” Kook whines back, following your warpath to the kitchen as he wraps his arms around your frame. He’s careful to keep his fingers away from any hot surfaces, taking the opportunity to place his palms on your chest without lecture. Besides that, he’s gone to the world as his face buries itself into your shoulder. “How’s your new job going?” He mumbles against your skin, causing goosebumps to shoot down your spine. Feeling the smirk from him on your skin, the little shit knows exactly what he’s doing. ”My little lead director of communications.” 

(Namjoon swears he didn’t put in a good word for you at his company regarding the application, but you’re almost 99% positive he did. You reassure yourself that you deserve to be there by saying the interview went well at least.)

“Everyone’s so nice, you know?” You begin, trying to fight off the laugh that threatens to overflow. “My new nickname is The girl Jeon Jungkook picks up after work, in the office. And sometimes it’s, Doesn’t he have a girlfriend? Is he having an affair?!!” You joke dryly, looking over your shoulder at him. “Because there’s no way we could everrr be in a relationship in this universe.” You chuckle.

At this, Jungkook tries hard not to laugh at your dismay. He doesn’t try very hard, eventually cracking up. “Hey, what can I say? I’m popular.” He cracks, earning him a soft elbow in the ribs that quickly makes him retreat away from you. “Sorry! Sorry! Do you want me to talk to them, and tell them it’s not cool? Or have a staff meeting about bullying and gossip?” 

Jungkook is lucky he’s so pretty, you think. This only makes your dismay worse, corners fighting hard to not tug up in a smile at how ridiculous he sounds. “That would make it worse, mom.” You finally crack into a smile, “If you were to go in there and tell them off like I’m 5 years old, I’d put in my two weeks immediately.” You laugh, putting the food onto plates before heading into the living room. This part of your and Jungkook’s routine is almost solid without how many date night-ins you’ve had in recent months. Kook goes for the drinks and utensils before joining you on the couch, clicking on the television. 

You can almost hear the cogs turning in his brain. “Or, I can send a strongly worded email.” He adds, sitting down before pulling your legs over his lap. “No, no. I leave a voicemail. that’ll really get ‘em.” 

“Koookkk.” Groaning, you can’t help but begin to laugh by the end of it. “I think, and hear me out, don’t get going just yet.” Your hands are held out in front of you. “Maybe, you don’t have to pick me up at my office every day when we leave the building. Maybe we can just meet in the garage or something. That way it’ll slowly die out of the conversation.” Jungkook’s almost offended by your words, dramatically placing a hand over his heart as if you’d shot him. 

“That's the best part of my day, not happening.” Jungkook gives one hard shake of his head, a definitive no before he resumes eating. 

“The best part of your day can be me walking to you in the parking garage instead.” You shoot, watching as Jungkook pretends to think hard about it. The final verdict is another hard shake of his head, signaling no. “Ugh, fine how about the cafeteria?” Another no. “Breakroom?” Another no. “Common areas?” Another no. “Jungkookkkk, work with me,” You complain, pointing at him threateningly with your chopsticks as you drive your foot into his abdomen. 

“I like picking you up at your office.” He shrugs as he sets his food aside, going to grab your foot in his hold. The last time this happened, jungkook tickled you half to death, eventually earning him a hard kick to the temple. (You felt horrible, and he couldn’t shoot content for a week.) Immediately, you make your foot retreat in fear of his safety. He completely ignores the next train of complaints from you. In retaliation, you crumple up a napkin and bounce it off of his head, which he still doesn’t acknowledge. 

“I can’t be called The girl Jungkook picks up, at my job. I really can’t Kook.” 

With an exaggerated sigh, Jungkook finally gives in. “Fine, we can meet at the cafeteria.” He almost whines, pinching your calf lightly to display his grievances. After your mini celebration that Jungkook mopes throughout, the both of you get comfortable with just eating and watching the show as it fills the silence. Jungkook’s finished eating much faster than you are, waiting impatiently for you to be done. As soon as your plate hits the coffee table, he’s pulling you closer. “I miss you.” He starts, laying back and dragging you along with him.

“You see me every day.” You genuinely laugh, cuddling close to him as you continue to watch the show, cheek squished on his chest. 

“It’s just not the same.” He's never satisfied. “When you’re working you’re all dressed up, and put together, and have your little bag filled with papers and fuck knows what else.” You chuckle softly, glancing up at him. “I miss just hanging out, watching tv, wearing pajamas, and you making fun of my toe socks which are very comfortable, FYI.  We’ve been so busy recently.” At that, he holds you just the smallest bit closer. Your arms wrap around him in return, hands pancaked in between his back and the couch cushions. Glancing up, Jungkook’s soft gaze meets yours, a small smile spreading across his face. You return the smile, reaching up to hold his cheeks in your palms. 

“First of all, the socks are atrocious. I only put up with them because it’s you.” You laugh loudly. 

“Awwwww.”

“Secondly, you remind me of your younger self, Kook. It’s like I can still see him in you.” You smile hard, rubbing along the bridge of his nose with your pinky. If you were anyone else, Jungkook would tell you off for pointing out his nose, maybe even cuss a bit. But it's you, and he knows how much you rave about how cute you think it is, so he lets you slide your finger across. “So loving, so sweet Jungkook.” You can’t help but grin, moving to softly pink his cheeks in between your thumbs and index fingers. His teeth show slightly from the stretch, making you beam back at him. “My sweet boy.” You coo, finally releasing him as you lay back on his chest. Jungkook holds you even closer after that. 

Jungkook’s fingers absentmindedly scratch along your back, every now and then rubbing the goosebumps that sprout up in their wake. You’re more focused on the movie than anything, brows furrowed together slightly as you listen closely to the dialogue to not miss a single detail. Jungkook, on the other hand, is the complete opposite. It’s already been an hour, you’re paying little to no attention to him and he’s growing impatient. The innocent scratches turn into heavy petting, eyes glued only to your frame, as his hips constantly readjust in their own accord. Trying to be subtle, Jungkook does his best to slowly hike your top up to get his hands on your bare skin. You’re more than aware of it, purposely ignoring him as you’re dead set on finishing up the stupid murder mystery, clue reminiscent, movie where you have to find out who the killer is. “Kook, go rub one out or something. I have 30 minutes left.” You complain, swatting away his hands as they begin to trail further underneath your shirt. 

“No, it’s not the same.” He immediately whines, curling up more to you, face burying itself in your neck as he sits up slightly. You can feel the soft kissing, leaving light marks on your skin that he soothes with his tongue. “Do you remember when we were in my studio for the first time?” Jungkook almost shutters as he lays under you. So much for movie night and cuddles. “And you hit my prostate? I wanna do that again-“ He whines, burying his face in your chest in embarrassment. Your attention is finally diverted from the movie now, glancing down at him. You can only see the tips of his ears, burning a bright red that you can only guess is also spread across his cheeks. “But more.” He adds. 

“You want me to fuck you? Is that what you’re saying?” Your voice drops, Jungkook immediately perking up at the tone with a small smile. “My boy, you want just my fingers, or you wanna be fucked?” Your hands come up to gently hold his head in them, fingers rubbing along his cheeks. Jungkook naturally leans into your touch, smiling softly as he deliberates. 

“I want you to fuck me.” Jungkook finally states, nodding to solidify his statement. His words are booming in your otherwise quiet apartment. 

“Oh shit.” You chuckle, his tone catching you slightly by surprise. At the small laugh, Jungkook’s face falls. “No, no I just laughed because it was so blunt and loud. Not at you, Kook.” You're quick to reassure, leaning forward to place a kiss on his forehead. “I think I may have a strap-on from-“ 

“You have a strapon?!?!” Jungkook interrupts you, shock and jealousy coursing through his voice, making you laugh. 

“Listen! It was a gag gift from my friends in college, it’s not even used.” You roll your eyes, watching as he calms down. “You never let me finish my sentences.” You laugh, sitting up on his lap. He’s quick to follow, lurching into a seated position to meet you. “When bun?” His brow immediately creases. 

“Today? Maybe?” The smirk that grows on your face is cheek aching, hands holding his face in your palms. Your thumbs gently brush his cheekbones, making him instantly melt in your hold. 

“You’re cute, Kook.” You grin hard, leaning forward to place a gentle kiss on his nose. “Of course, I’ll fuck you bun. Happily. C'mon, to the bedroom.” You lightly slap his shoulders, encouraging him up. In a flurry, he’s hoisting the both of you from the couch in a millisecond, arms wrapped tightly around your waist. (He’s almost running into the bedroom, your legs wrapped tightly around him.) Jungkook wastes no time, allowing himself to fall backward onto the bed. 

You land with a huff, Jungkook quickly situating you on his lap. “Alright, alright, I’m ready.” He smiles hard, ripping a laugh from your throat. “Do your worst.” It’s comfortable, the way your bodies easily fit together with one another, lips slotting together. You can taste the strawberry chapstick he wears so often, and smell the subtle citrus perfume that he always puts on when it starts to wear off. As always, Jungkook is easy to rile up. Slow kisses, pulling on his hair, slipping your hand underneath his shirt, and he’s already in over his head. 

“You’re too easy, Kook.” You smile up at him softly, biting the soft skin on his neck as a dark mark begins to show. “I really hope you’re not always like this, with all your other girlfriends.” You tease him, knowing just how much he hates it. (He really does hate it, how could he want anyone else when he has you?)

“Y/nnnnn,” He complains, hands squeezing your thighs on either side of his waist hard, leaving small bruises in their wake. “You know I’m only this easy for you, always only you.” 

“Hmmm, I don't know. Mr big league, international idol.” You continue to press all of his buttons, fighting back the smile as you look for the expression you already know he’s wearing. It finally makes you crack, cheeks hurting from how hard the smile is. Your hands slip underneath his ridiculously sized T-shirt, cold hands leaving goosebumps in their path as he involuntarily flinches away from them. You bunch it in your hands, peeling it off and over his head. “What was that one show you had recently, all sold out? How man fans did you-”

“You know that’s inaccurate,” Jungkook states immediately, dead serious which makes you laugh out loud. 

“Alright, alright. Just getting you all bothered, bun,” The whine Jungkook lets out as you jokingly flick a nipple makes you ache, snapping you back into the reality of what the two of you are actually doing. “Fuck, bun. You gonna let me play with your pretty tits, hmm?” His fluffy hair bounces from how aggressively he shakes his head. You groan back, experimentally taking a nipple in between your teeth, harshly running your tongue over it.

“Feels good, feels good.” Kook whines, hips involuntarily grinding up against you. A small yelp unconsciously falls from him as you bite, one of his hands coming up to press firmly along your shoulder. “Biting? You just bit me!” He whines loudly, rubbing his chest. It makes you laugh.

“You bite me all the time without realizing it.” You counter, softly pulling his hand away by his wrist. Your tongue meets his chest once more, soothing over the mark before harshly licking, sucking, and biting once more. “You’re also always so rough with me, bun. Are you gonna let me be rough with you?”

“If you ever get there, sure. Seems like you’re stalling, you scared beautiful?” It’s taunting, finally his turn to push your buttons as he smirks down on you. 

“We’ve gotta get you prepped Kook, otherwise you’ll be no fun to play with.” Once again, another tease meant to rile him up. Jungkoko groans just from your words, hands pulling your hips closer. Before he has a chance to counter, you’re moving down to meet his waistband, tugging on the sweatpants. Your thumbs hook underneath, catching both his underwear and tugging them off in one easy swoop. He’s rock hard, his cock hitting his lower stomach. “Can you reach over and grab the lube?” The bedside table is being slung open in two seconds flat, everything slapping against the front. Jungkook avoids the look you give him. 

“Shut up, I don't wanna hear it.” He chuckles, handing it over after fishing around for it. “So how do you? How do we uh? Fit it in.”

Your heartbeat catches for a moment, glancing up and catching the slight nerves on his face before they disappear. “Kook.” You smile gently, a fond feeling in your chest. “We start slowly, Kook. We definitely don’t have to rush and if you want to stop we can always have a raincheck.” Jungkook listens intently, eyes wide as he takes everything in. Slowly. he nods as you finish up your speech. “So, we start slow.” You give him one last reassuring smile before you take the lube from him, being extremely generous as you apply it to your fingers. 

His hips jerk into your hold as you take his aching cock with a soft fist, nerves making him jumpy. “Bun, relax. You know I’ll take care of you.” You coo to Jungkook, a blush flushing across his entire face. 

“I know, I know you always do.” Jungkook nods, coaxing himself to relax as he lays down rather than resting on his elbows. You see part of his face, eyes screwed shut as he focuses on your touch. His breath sucks in as the cold lube meets his skin, legs tensing around your body where you sit between them. 

“You have to relax, Kook.” You reiterate once more, sliding down slightly as your lips brush against his head. “You’ve been here before, bun.” You giggle, taking his head in your mouth as you focus on distracting him. He’s distracted easily, one hand reaching down to run his fingers through your hair, gently pulling at the strands. You allow him, sinking down slowly as you gauge his reaction. 

“Feels good.” You can vaguely hear him whine, head pushed back into your pillow as he tries his hardest to focus on your mouth. As his legs relax around your body, losing himself in the pleasure, you easily slip your middle finger into his ass. “Fuck me!” He whimpers, clamping down around your finger. 

“You’re okay, bun. You’re okay.” You reassure, glancing up to catch his expression. After he relaxes a bit, you sink onto his cock once more, not yet moving your finger. You can feel Jungkook’s gaze burning into your skin, watching intently as your nose brushes his abdomen. Experimentally, your finger draws out before easily sliding back in, pulling the smallest whine from the very back of his throat. Sinking back down onto his cock, you fight the gag off as he grinds into you, finally allowing the pleasure to wash over him again. 

“Fuck! Is this what it feels like?” Jungkook whines loudly as you slip another finger in, gently pressing against his prostate as his hips readjust on their own.

“Feels like when what?” You draw before sinking back down onto him, your tongue harshly against rubbing the underside of his cock. 

“When we fuck, when I’m in you.” It’s whiny and slightly breathless as he bites back his moans. Jungkook flushes a bright red across his chest and face, breath uneven as his chest rises and falls with heaves. 

“Not at all, you’re way bigger than my fingers, bun.” It’s a boost in his confidence, immediately vanishing as one of your hands meets the back of his thighs. “Up Kook, just a bit so I can work you open,” He whines, so deep and guttural that you almost want to whine back. You're at three fingers when you actually start, beginning to fuck into him with your fingers, curling them to hit his prostate. His poor cock sits untouched on his abdomen, softly dripping precum onto his stomach from your touch. 

Jungkook knows he’s in for it as you shuffle around in between him, climbing to your knees as his legs rest around your waist. It’s a change in your recent dynamic for sure, but he can't help the way his cock throbs the whines that slip past his bright red, bitten lips. Your free hand runs along his thigh, pulling it up slightly more as you push his hips into the mattress, fingers working him open and closer to his end. 

“Kook?” You call softly, earning you a small hum in return. “You gonna be good for me, cum from my fingers?” Truthfully, he doesn’t know if he can but he trusts you enough to take him there. He nods quickly, bangs falling into his face. You pull another whimper just from changing your position, leaning over him slightly to watch all of his expressions. Taking his cock into one hand to push him closer, the other fucking him open, your body pressing him into the mattress, his mind just melts. His body feels hotter than humanly possible, mind reeling from all the sensations at once. 

“Good boy Kook, my good boy.” Cooing, your lips meet his jaw as you gently kiss his hot skin. 

“Close, really close.” Jungkook doesn’t quite understand the feeling that grows in his abdomen, only that it’s continuing to build as your fingers press harshly into him. He barely registers the feeling of your hand leaving his aching cock, mind too preoccupied with the incoming orgasm. “Coming.” His entire body shakes, hands searching for any sort of contact as they wrap around your body, pulling you closer to him. Jungkook’s sure he’s never experienced something like this before, sure he’s never come this hard in his entire life. 

“Easy, Kook. It’s okay.” You help him through it, milking it for the most pleasure you can give him. Slowly easing your ministrations to a stop, you plant kisses around his face. Jungkook cums harder than you’ve ever seen, thighs still shaking against your body as he rides it out. “You okay?” He looks like he’s just run a marathon, chest heaving as he comes back. 

“Yeah, yeah.” Kook huffs, flushed bright red underneath you. 

“I’ll be right back? Okay?” He nods, allowing you to slip from his legs and instead begin to rummage through your bedside dresser. His eyes burn into your skin as you finally find it, the overly realistic strap-on held in place by a leather harness. “You still sure about this, bun?” You have to fight to untangle it, embarrassment following across your cheeks as you work on putting it on over your lace panties. Jungkook doesn’t even register your struggle as he watches. 

“Yeah, yes. Please, Y/n.” Jungkook whimpers, cock throbbing as it slaps against his stomach. Nervousness sets in as you resume your spot in between his legs, hands rubbing along his thighs as they tense beneath your touch. “You’ll be gentle, right? Please?” He whimpers, taking one of your hands in his own. 

“I’ll be as gentle as you are with me.” You giggle, slowly pushing his thighs back up to press his hips into the mattress. “Kidding, of course, I’ll be gentle, Kook,” You reassure, finally dropping the small nag as you once again fish for the lube. Jungkook fights the whimper that threatens to fall past his lips as he watches you lube yourself up, eyebrows scrunched together. “Ready bun?” 

His lips are caught between his teeth as he nods, one of his hands meeting your own that holds his knee back. Leaning forward, you offer a quick kiss before starting. It’s slow, his chest heaving as you slowly allow the head to slip inside. 

“You’re okay, bun.” You hum, redirecting a free hand to slowly jerk his cock. Sliding in slightly further, a loud moan slips past his lips as you brush along his prostate, cock throbbing in your hold. You have to talk him through it, sliding in inch by inch and allowing him to readjust each time. Rocking your hips slightly, Jungkook slowly takes the last inch before you’re fully inside, the base of the strapon grinding slightly against his skin. “You alright bun?” You coo, gently pulling an arm away from his flushed face. 

Jungkook’s eyes are slightly watery, lips shining and bright red from how much he’s bitten down on them. Allowing him to adjust, you lean down to kiss him, lips sliding against one another as you grind against him. With a small nod from Jungkook, he encourages you back up. 

“You’re so deep.” He whimpers as a response, clenching and unclenching around you. If only you could feel it, you’re sure you’d go insane. Seeing him so fucked out, pinned underneath your hold, whimpering and crying as he takes it., and being able to feel it? You’re bordering insane already. “Move, please.” Jungkook whines, so genuine that it causes you to clench around nothing. 

“So good for me, Kook.” You praise, sliding out and easily pushing in in one swift thrust. The sound it makes is absolutely lewd, adding to your insanity. 

“Fuck! Fuck!” 

“So whiny, crying and I’ve barely started bun. Barely even moving right now.” You tease, watching as his cock bounces with each taunt. You can’t help but grind against him, feeling the faint warmth of his skin on your lower stomach. 

“Yeah? Thought you wanted to be rough with me?” Jungkook knows what he’s doing, knows how much he’s essentially fucking himself over with his words, but he doesn’t care. He’s in trouble as you hike his thighs up with ease, pinning him to the bed how he pins you constantly. Vulnerability spreads throughout his entire body, open wide in front of you before you’re following, thighs pressed against the curves of his ass. 

“Bun, be careful with your words.” You tease, giving him one hard snap of your hips to prove your point. It gets it across easily, forcing a moan past his lips which you swallow in a sloppy kiss. Jungkook’s burning up from the inside out, watching as your chest bounces each time you rock your hips into him, feeling the warmth of your skin each time you bottom out. His legs are hiked up higher than he’s ever been, knees almost touching the bed beside his torso as you fold him in half. “You alright, bun?” You ask, not paying much attention as your mind is focused on wedging your hands in the folds of his knees better. 

“Yeah, yeah. I just didn’t know this would feel so intense?” He mumbles, hands reaching around his legs to hold your forearms in his palms. Moans fill your bedroom, Jungkook unable to hold back a single one. “Vulnerable? Feel this good? I don’t know which term I’m looking for.” 

“Vulnerable? You feel vulnerable Kook? Do you want me to slow down-”

“No! No, I don’t feel vulnerable with you.” Jungkook wears a soft smile across his face, quickly broken as you rock harder into him. “The position is just…compromising I suppose.”

You can’t help but giggle at him. “Good, bun. I’m glad.” Grinning, you catch his lips in a quick kiss before pulling away once again. To get more leverage, (you’re going off of stuff you’ve seen Jungkook do,) you push yourself up onto your feet. “Being so good, taking me so well.”

“Are you, fuck fuck ah,” He whines, clenching around you as you’re able to finally set a steady pace, using your legs as leverage. “Are you mating pressing me right now?” Jungkook cracks in between moans, trying his hardest to maintain his composure. His brows are scrunched together, lips bit bright red as his lids struggle to stay open, completely and utterly fucked out. There’s a thin layer of sweat slowly building, making his skin shine prettily. 

“Wish I could feel you Kook, wish I could.” You ignore his previous comment, eyebrows scrunching together as you focus on your movements. In any other context, Jungkook would coo at you and rub the small wrinkle that forms out with both thumbs, place a kiss there maybe. But in this context, with the concentration you’re giving him, it’s a scary one.

“Fuck, don't say that. Don't know how I’d react if I was able to feel you.” He reaches, teasingly pulling you in by your hip and throwing off your balance.

“I’m about to slip a fucking sleeve over your cock so you stop being such a smartass, bun.” You growl, snapping hard into him. It’s the whinest moan you think you’ve ever heard from Jungkook since you’ve met him, cock jumping at the threat. “Such a whore, Kook.” You can’t help but quip, watching as he stifles the moan that threatens to spill out. 

“Think I’m gonna cum again,” His hands move to rest on his forehead, covering his face from you. 

“Uhh uhh, you know better than that bun.” The smugness drips from your voice, one of your hands coming to pin Jungkook’s hands away from his red face. “C'mon, don’t make me punish you, cum for me like a good boy.” There’s a feral-ness in your voice, wanting to see him squirm underneath you, cry for you as he cums. Your hips snap on their own accord, watching as his soft pink lips part with each moan you work out of him. 

“Fuck, Kook. So beautiful underneath me feels like I’m gonna die,” You complain with a smile, leaning over his body to bite softly into his chest. And you move to nip his neck, then the very base of his jaw, before moving back to his chest again to mark him. “Can't take it, how good you are.” You praise more, watching as he teeters on the very edge of his orgasm. His brain genuinely melts, jaw falling slack just the slightest bit as he full-body cums again, legs shaking around your waist. Jungkook breaks your hold on his arms, pulling your body close as he kisses you, sloppy and needy. Your palms trail along his skin, offering comfort to his shaking thighs and heaving chest as you slowly soothe them. “Easy, bun, easy.” You coo in between kisses, eventually slowing the needy kisses down to gentle and slow to help him catch his breath. 

“Holy shit,” He finally offers, making you chuckle as you softly smooth his messy hair, pushing his bangs away from his sweaty forehead.

“You’re making such a fucking mess, bun. Just fuckin oozing everywhere like a whore, can't help it huh?” Teasing, you swipe at his abdomen to collect some of it, showing it off on your fingers. Jungkook can't help but tremble, whines spilling past his lips from your teasing. “You okay? Wanna take a break?” You check in after dropping your teasing tone, sitting up a bit on your heels to assess him. There are way more bite marks than you remember giving him, some showing the indents of your teeth in his flesh. It makes your cheeks warm, thumbs swiping the bite marks gently to try and smooth them out (it doesn’t work at all.) 

“No, no, I think I have one more in me at least. God, pretty girl, fuckin feral huh?” Jungkook smiles, rubbing over the bite marks himself. Embarrassment overcomes you, cheeks reddening as all you can do is smile. “I like it.” 

“What can I say, gotta mark what’s mine.” You offer cheekily, leaning in for one last kiss before resuming. “You think you can take it on your knees?”

“Oh fuck,” It’s more of a whimper than anything, Jungkook knowing this is, in fact, going to be the last one before his mind melts entirely. “Think I might die if I take it on my knees.” He offers, whimpering as you slide out of him to allow him to move. If Jungkook was luckier, you suppose you’d go easier on him, maybe whisper sweet nothings into his ear as you give him back shots. As he flips over, ass waving in the air, you feel as if you’ve been starved for the last year. His waist looks smaller than normal like this, shoulder muscles flexing as he rests on his arms, thighs shaking just the slightest bit from his previous 2 orgasms. 

Definitely not going to be gentle, you discern. Your hands instinctively reach for his ass, lightly slapping this skin underneath your palms to test his reaction. He offers a muffled groan, pushing his ass back into you. Slapping slightly harder, his skin begins to redden into a faint handprint. “My little whore.” You can't stop yourself, Jungkook pushing himself back once again. Pushing yourself up onto your knees, you easily slip in the head, earning a throaty groan from Kook. “God, bun.” Is all you can manage, reaching over into your bedside drawer to fish out another toy. “Be good and get this wet for me, alright?” You almost purr, a giant smile spread across your face as you hand him the fleshlight. 

You slide into him with a wet shhlickk, humming softly as your hips meet his soft skin. Glancing around to the best of your ability, Jungkook’s obviously conflicted as he steals glances at the bottle of lube that sits near him. “Bun, I said wet it.” You drawl, leaning over his body to reach, Jungkook letting out a whine from how deep you are. You take it from his stilled hands, his mind too preoccupied with the way your hips press into his ass. “Cum a couple of times and can’t think, huh?” You tease, pushing the toy up to his lips, grinding it against him as he begins eating it out. 

Jungkook groans, so deep and throaty that you would've sworn he just came without even being stimulated, mind beginning to catch up to all the sensations. “Please, move Y/n. Can’t take it, too deep.” Kook whimpers, pushing his ass harder into your hips. Death grip still around the toy, you're unmoving. 

“Bun, cmon. Be good for me, this is the first thing I've asked of you this entire time.” It’s a sight for your sore eyes, pink tongue slipping into the clear center as his eyebrows form that familiar crease between them with concentration. The hand not holding the toy slides around his torso, gently rubbing over his sensitive chest and nipples to give him some sort of touch. You can't help but clench around nothing, watching as his jaw flexes and tenses with each movement. Pulling it away, you're almost drooling with desire. “You gonna let me be rough with you, bun?” You tease, easily sliding the toy partially over him. 

He just shakes underneath you, absolutely quivers as he sinks into the toy. “Yes, please. Please be rough, be mean,” He whines, biting down hard on his lower lip as you rock into him, forcing him to rock into the toy in turn. 

“See Kook? I move, you move.” You can’t help but smile, chest still flush against his back as you allow him to get used to it. Both hands find his chest, squeezing, pinching, and rubbing wherever they can. Jungkook’s basically panting underneath you, abs clenched hard in concentration as he tries not to cum embarrassingly early. “Gonna move now, alright?” He offers a nod as an answer, eyes screwed shut and lips bit down. 

You force a deep moan out of him with the very first thrust of your hips, not only hitting his prostate but forcing him completely into the clear toy underneath him. “Gonna cum early Kook? Feels too good, huh? Just so many different sensations happening at once.” You tease him. Reaching forward, you pull hard on the back of his hair, Jungkook’s being forced up onto his hands.

“Feels good, really good. Too good.” He almost babbles, making the heat in your abdomen pool. “Don't wanna cum yet, but might.” He whimpers, mouth falling open as you snap your hips hard into him. Without even thinking, you allow your fingers to slip into his mouth, pressing down hard on his tongue. Jungkook genuinely drools, coating your fingers and creating a string that falls onto the covers. “Lemme cum, wanna cum, bad.” 

“You have to ask nicely.” You grit, grinding into him. One of your arms wraps around his torso, holding him close. Your lips meet his shoulder, biting down slightly on the warm skin.

“Please lemme cum.” It’s the best you’re going to get in his current state, mind seconds from leaving his head completely. 

“Go head bun, come hard for me.” You coo, keeping your antics up to the best of your ability given the exhaustion slowly creeping up on you. (You’re older than Kook, give yourself a break. You don’t have as much stamina as the boy.) “Be good and let me hear you, bun.” You could cum just from listening to him, whining, moaning, and borderline crying as he cums for the last time of the night. His thighs shake against yours, hands creating fists around the covers as his knuckles go white. “Easy, Kook. Easy, you’re okay.” You help him through it, hands roaming his body to help ground him with your touch. Slowly, you maneuver him back down to his elbows to rest. “Gonna slide out, okay, I’ll be careful.” Talking him through it, you help him onto his back, tossing the toys aside to be cleaned. 

“Holy fuck.” Jungkook whines, covered in his own fluids as he finally rests entirely. There’s drool covering his chest, absolutely lewd as he peers up at you with half-open eyes. “Gonna have to do that again, sometime.” 

“You okay, Jungkook?” You ask gently, taking him into your arms as your lips meet for the millionth time that night. 

Jungkook beams at you, the widest and most cheesy smile you’ve seen in a while. “Of course, babe. More than okay, thank you for doing that with me.” He grins, cupping your face in one hand as he kisses you. 

“C'mon, let’s go take a bath. I don't think your legs could stand long enough for a shower.” You tease. He knows you're right, but he profusely denies it in an attempt to prove you wrong and show just how strong he is. (He needs your help walking to the bathroom, wobbly legs himself.) You allow him to keep his dignity, not bullying him too much on the way to the tub.

“Wait, you didn’t cum did you?” Jungkook makes the sudden revelation in the bathroom, pulling you close to his chest. Your hands meet his biceps, small smiles spreading across both of your faces.

“No, but it’s okay I- KOOK!” He catches you off guard as he easily dips a hand into your panties, fingers immediately slipping through your folds from how wet you are. “It’s okay, I enjoyed seeing you like that for me regardless, I don't have to cum to enjoy things you know?” 

“Hmmm, but it’d make me feel a lot better.” Jungkook cheekily smiles, already working you up as he slots his thigh in between your own. “Please cum for me, just once. I’ll lend you my fingers, please cum on my fingers.” He’s basically begging, waiting for you to nod before moving his hand anymore. It's hotter than you would've thought, you riding his fingers while standing, sloppily making out as he swallows your moans with soft groans, bodies held close together, warm skin against warm skin. “Sound so pretty, angel. These sounds just for me, all mine,” He mumbles against your lips, making you clench hard around him. 

“Just a bit more, Kook. Almost there,” You whine loudly, grinding against him.

“I’ve got you, bun’s got it.” Jungkook easily takes you there, basically knows your body like the back of his hand. Your knees part more to allow his hand to move more freely, legs shaking slightly as you stand on your toes. 

“Cumming Kook.” Eyebrows scrunching together, the pool that’s been hot in your stomach finally overflows, your poor cunt aching as you cum. Jungkook does his best to ride you through it for as long as possible, milking it for all it’s worth. “Too much, hurts.” You whimper against Jungkook’s neck, softly grabbing his wrist.

“I love you. I fucking love you so much.” Jungkook removes his hand as quickly as he shoved it in your panties, pulling you close as he kisses you. 

“Oh my god! Get in the tub, we’re going to be fucking in my bathroom if we keep this up.” You giggle, softly pushing him toward the already-filled tub. 

“Fine, even though that seems like a fun time too,” Jungkook complains, climbing in. His eyes never leave your frame as you take off your panties, dropping them in the laundry before slipping in behind him. “Hot.”

“Kook, shhhhhhhh.” The both of you laugh, Jungkook moving to rest against your torso. Placing a hand on his forehead, you softly pull his head back to rest it on your shoulder. “I love you too, Jungkook. Always have.” You kiss his cheek softly, hands coming to hold his head gently as you do. Jungkook pretends to hate it, jokingly pulling away from your lips as you kiss him multiple times. You’re sure he’s blushing, but he ferociously avoids looking at you as you try to see his cheeks better to tease. 

He’s 100% blushing as he sits up away from you, you're sure of it. He offers a “nuh uh” before you're slapping a hand across his eyes, yanking him down once more. It makes the both of you laugh loudly, water sloshing against the tub walls. Finally, he gives in. “Fine, whatever. Love you too.”

“Love you more, wobbly legs.”

If you have any comments, feedback, etc, please let me know in the tags or comments! I always love to hear from readers and listen to your thoughts! Thank you for reading. 

Love, G <3

[nanichi0]

I can’t stop thinking about how badly I wanna have Choso’s babies so here’s some fluffy headcanons about dad!Choso

Character: Choso Kamo (JJK)

Warnings: none

•He tears up with a lot of you and your children’s firsts. The first time he sees you holding your babies, the first time he feels their tiny hands grip onto his finger, the first time they look up at him with curious eyes, the first time they give him a little smile, the first time they call him “dad” or some variation of that. It really makes him realize that “Oh my god, I’m actually a dad now, this is real, and they accept me, and they love me and I love them” and his heart is just so full.

•Choso helps out with the kids as much as he can. He’ll help change their diapers, prepare their food, bathe them, etc. Whatever you and your children need, he’s there to make things easier and take care of you. Even as the kids grow up, he always tries to be present and set the best example for them.

•Choso brushes and dries your kids’ hair after they've had their baths every night, detangling it if needed, making sure it’s properly taken care of before you both put them to bed. The kids absolutely love this - he’s so gentle and calm with them through the process that they start to fall asleep before he’s even done brushing it.

•Choso also likes to brush your children’s hair in the morning before they go to school, giving them cute hairstyles and sometimes asking you to do his own hair to match theirs

•Choso gets so excited about picking out cute outfits for your kids. When they were still babies, sometimes you’d go to the mall and see Choso’s eyes light up when you walked by a set of adorably tiny shoes, or by a cute little pair of baby-sized overalls. As the kids get older and start to develop their own fashion sense, Choso still loves to go clothes shopping with them, encouraging them when they try out new styles.

•Your kids love when Choso carries them on his shoulders. He makes sure he’s holding them securely in place, and they grab onto his hair like little handlebars.

•Choso carries pictures of you and your children everywhere he goes (in his wallet, in his phone case, in his pockets, basically anywhere that’s within his reach). That way you’re always with him even if he's busy, if you’re at work, or if your kids are at school.

•This man is 100% the type to always show up to your kids’ school and extracurricular events. Be it sports games, concerts, school plays, spelling bees, the science fair –honestly anything at all– if it involves your child, Choso will be there to support and encourage them.

•Choso is so protective of you and your kids. It can be a little bit much at times and you have to remind him to tone it down. He just gets anxious at the thought of him not being there if anything bad were to happen. At the same time, though, he believes in you and your kids’ strengths and he knows you can stand up for yourselves if the need arises.

•If your children make something or gift him something, Choso will treat those things as his most prized possessions. Your kid draws him a picture? Choso frames it and hangs it up on the wall. Your kid sculpts something in art class? Choso displays it on a shelf in your house. Your kid makes him a shirt that says “World’s Best Dad”? Choso wears it any chance he gets, that’s his favorite shirt now.

•All in all, Choso is a great dad. He’s so proud of you and your kids, and so happy to have his family, and he loves you all so so much ❤️

Side note - imagine your kids inheriting the Kamo blood manipulation technique, so they each end up with a variation of the blood mark Choso has on his nose pls that’s so cute I could melt

[anika-ann]

Love on the Brain - part 6.1

Ch6: Floriography (1/2)

Type: MCU x Criminal Minds crossover series

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader    Word Count: 5000

Summary: After the long night, you come back to the case with fresh eyes… and a new piece of evidence. You wished more evidence was good news. It’s not.

Series masterlist

Warnings: series includes criminal behaviour such as stalking or kidnapping; graphic violence, gun violence; (mentions of) death; allusions to dub-con; possible PTSD and flashbacks; sexual innuendos and foul language. Loads of fluff and teasing. I’m covering my bases here to make sure - probably sounds worse than it is. If you’re interested in specific warnings for individual chapters, let me know.

A/N: divider by @firefly-graphics​; I didn’t want to split this one, but it was getting really really long and no one wants like a 11k chapter. Enjoy 🥰

"If I had a flower for every time I thought of you...I could walk through my garden forever." — Alfred Tennyson

When you slipped out of Steve’s room, you were met with the smug face of Natasha, the bodyguard ready to walk Steve to the conference room; she assessed your appearance with a smirk on her face, but at least she didn’t dare to say a word beside a good morning.

You questioned whether it was a good one. You strode to your own room to take the world’s quickest shower, jeans and the A.I. t-shirt and hoodie on in a record time, bursting into the room not later than seven minutes after Jarvis alerted you.

Everyone was already in there indeed and they all snapped their gaze to you as you took long quick steps, examining the tables and the white board for new notes. There weren’t many.

“Morning,” you greeted them swiftly, noting that some of them were nursing a small breakfast consisting of fruit, yogurt or granola and fresh juice or a cup of the black coffee, the half-empty pot sitting in the middle of the central table. “What’s the word?”

“Good morning to you too. The word is eat at least a granola bar or a piece of fruit before you ask about work,” Emily hummed good-naturedly, earning an unimpressed look.

Who thought about food when there was clearly some news even if you hadn’t seen any traces of it? They all knew what it was already, you could tell.

But instead of sharing, Emily told to eat.

That could only mean it was not good news, you realized; and you’d be terrified of what it was, but Steve was here, so whatever happened couldn’t be worse than your worst fears.

“She’s right. Sit down and eat something. Drink, Bean,” Spencer supported her, a brief tense smile on his lips.

Grunting, you obeyed, blindly reaching into the bowl of snacks and grabbing a small bottle of water. You took a seat between Steve and Spencer, closer to the latter. Even with the hum of a case in progress, you could sense awkwardness in the air, the unfortunate but expected outcome of the stupid maybe you had told Steve.

Because that was just what you needed now, on top of everything.

Once seated, you moved onto staring Spence down, hoping at least he might spill the beans; the idea that anyone else would was frankly laughable. Natasha wouldn’t budge, neither would Hotch, Tony probably got off of knowing something you didn’t and Emily apparently wouldn’t say a word until you finished chewing.

To his credit, Reid drummed his fingers against his chin, eyeing the board to avoid your gaze. Traitor.

“You didn’t miss anything. As of now, the security team of the Tower is on the highest alert, because of a delivery. We just found out and Tony was about to call Mr. Hogan to give us more information once you’d arrive,” Hotch explained as you took two quick bites and chunked half a small bottle of water.

You nearly choked on it, eyes widening in shock.

Now the semi-ominous faces they all had when you arrived made perfect sense.

This was not good. That meant the unsub was escalating, making contact for the second time in two days and you had a feeling that this time, she wasn’t sending photos.

This was so so not good. It had to have something do with the women in the pictures. God, if it was a body part-

“What kind of a delivery-“

“We don’t know,” Natasha said, not even letting Steve finish the question you would have asked hadn’t you been trying to clear your airways. “Tony?”

“Jarvis, put me through to Happy,” Tony hummed, not even bothering to look up, knowing the artificial intelligence would catch it. “Put it on speaker.”

“Yes, boss.”

You and Reid laid your elbows on the table, leaning forward; he nudged you lightly to finish your excuse of a meal, making you roll your eyes.

You weren’t about to chew when you needed to hear the slightly goofy but most loyal head of the Tower security, one Happy Hogan.

“Hey Tony.”

“And company. Hey,” Tony greeted the voice, the rest of the team following his example. “Talk to us, Happy. What’s up?”

“8 o’clock sharp, there was a flower delivery at the reception desk,” Happy announced matter-of-factly, having you glance at your phone – it was 8:08. This really was relatively fresh news.

Flowers though?

That could mean a myriad of things; and it depended on many factors, starting from the number of flowers, the kind, the price, the type of shop chosen and the area it was stationed at… and most of all, the note if there was one to begin with.

“Okay…? It’s for Steve, I assume?”

“Yeah, unfortunately, that’s all we can do right now. Assume,” Happy replied with a sigh. “There’s no name – no addressee, no signature besides ‘Yours truly’.”

Your eyebrows shot up, heart skipping a beat. It was natural everyone was being cautious – and thank god for that, your mind was already racing, analysing what the signature could mean, the choice of words yours truly rather than more common and less formal secret admirer – but… this could actually be a false alarm.

You prayed it was.

“Oh-kay…?” Tony mumbled, looking just a fraction unsure as he glanced at Hotch and then you.

You exchanged a look with your former boss; a barely visible nod told you he was giving you a green light to take lead on this since Tony seemed a little lost at best.

Steve noted your silent exchange, his foot gently nudging yours in support; even two chairs away, his toes were long enough to reach your insole. Glancing at him with your face as straight as you could muster, you were rewarded with an encouraging smile, causing you to gulp.

Damn him and his stupidly beautiful face and stupidly kind heart.

“Hello Mr.Hogan, Happy, this is Jones. Is there anything else you can tell us about the flowers? Was there something that tipped you off? It’s weird timing for sure, but could it be that the flowers are just for the girl working the reception desk today?” you asked, slipping into the investigation mode and trying your best not to get your hopes up – or to show them.

You fooled no one.

“Not much I can tell. Two dozen of white roses. They’re sweeping them for bugs and prints right now. As for Jody having a secret admirer, well, I doubt that because of the note. It says, and I’m reading word-for-word, ‘I’m sorry I scared you into hiding. I could hurt people who are not worthy of you, if necessary, but I would never hurt you’,” he recited.

The words were like a punch straight to your solar plexus, knocking the wind out of you. You pressed your lips together, hands curling into fists automatically, as if to strike back – but there was nothing you could punch, nothing you could fight off.

Well, except for a stupid bouquet for Steve, no doubt from the unsub himself.

Fuck.

“…fair enough,” Tony said into the stunned silence of the room, causing your eyes to slip shut as you pressed your lips into a thin line. Fair? Nothing was fair about this. “Thanks, Happy, we’ll be in touch.”

You heard the call disconnect, the frozen room coming back to life judging by the shuffling. You looked to your right when you felt Steve’s large hand gently curling around your fist.

So you summoned a smile for him – albeit a lame one.

He needed your head in the game; he needed a supportive friend who’d have his back. Not a weepy shaking weakling. He needed this crazy-ass delusional stalker gone so he could go back to his normal life as soon as possible. He needed a professional BAU agent.

And you were going to give him exactly what he deserved; even if his deep blue eyes told you he would accept anything less than that too.

Loosening your fist, you squeezed his hand shortly before dropping it and rising to your feet.

“Let’s get moving. Spence-“ you turned to him, only to see him already making his way to the board to take notes of what you just learned. “Thanks.”

“What’s the game plan?” Emily asked no one in particular, but automatically turned to Hotch, the team leader. “This is a clear escalation. Two contacts in two days. Less personal touch, but more defined threat of violence towards the women and somehow… more protective of Steve too.”

“I agree. We need to get the NYPD on this, or your agents,” Hotch beckoned to Tony and Natasha, naturally leaving out Steve – the subject of the case – out of the action. Even if the subject appeared much less shell-shocked than you felt; and he probably was, because you were in love with a reckless idiot. “The women for questioning shouldn’t arrive alone.”

“On it,” Natasha confirmed, exchanging a look with Tony, ready to help him choose from the most trustworthy – hopefully trustworthy – agents.

Your heart hammered against your ribcage at the thought: hopefully trustworthy. The circle of truly trusted people became absurdly short after yesterday – in fact, the most trusted people were in this room.

And they needed to stay here.

You knew it made you the biggest asshole in the world but you were just fine with the Avengers and the BAU being exclusively around Steve. You wished no harm to anyone, but if it came down to Steve or some random woman… as much as you’d give everything to protect all, you had your priorities straight.

The person you cared about the most was here, safe, and it had to stay that way.

Momentarily lost in thought, you barely registered the dialling tone from the phone in Hotch’s hand. However, you certainly heard the voice on the other end.

“You called the hot line. Would you like to talk to someone special?”

For the second time that morning, all noise and movement in the room stopped, only the startled faces of the Avengers snapping to the source of the peculiar greeting that could only be a misdial.

Your gaze flickered between all of them – your former colleagues clearly stiffening a laugh, Hotch closing his eyes as he realized his mistake of putting the phone on speaker right away – and despite everything, you burst out laughing. It was incredibly liberating.

It did sound like a misdial; or the BAU’s technical analyst, queen of all things awesome, speaking.

“Garcia, you’re on spea-“ Hotch broke through your laughter, only to be interrupted by her astonished voice.

“Oh my god, is it my time to go to heaven already? It must be, because I’m hearing angels! Was I called by someone special?”

Chuckling still, cheeks hurting from smiling even wider when you saw Steve’s baffled expression, you greeted your favourite IT magician.

“I’m here, Penelope, it’s good to hear your voice. And please, never ever change,” you pleaded heartily, your companions gradually relaxing and returning to their previous tasks.

“Oh honey, I could never,” she promised. “It would break Derek’s heart if I as much as tried to dim my amazing sparkling self. What can I do you for?”

Your smile slipped despite the innuendo, words caught in your throat as your saw movement in your peripheral vision. Bruce was making his way to the conference room, the glass automatic door revealing the huge white bouquet in his hands; and the ominous expression on his face. Your stomach twisted, throat tightening.

“Well, the local tech genius is a little busy, so we wondered if you could track a flower delivery for us?” Emily stepped in, causing your attention to snap back to the call, stubbornly ignoring Bruce as he walked in and set the flowers on the table. “The order would be within the last 24 hours, over two dozen of white roses, and was delivered to the Avengers Tower… exactly 16 minutes ago.”  

A rapid staccato of Garcia’s fingers against the keyboard could be heard as the words spilled from her mouth just as fast.

“Who-oou, if I didn’t know we’re talking a stalker case I would have swooned. And they say chivalry is dead...” she contemplated. “Hello to the Avengers if there any, by the way. Is the Captain there? And Black Widow? Iron Man? It’s so cool that you got to work with them! And Thor, the actual god of thunder, not just my chocolate thunder? I’m so jealous…”

“Garcia, the flowers...?” Hotch reprimanded her, half-serious, half-resigned.

And secretly amused all as you all were.

Despite the horror Garcia tended to see on her screens, she was the literal bottle of sunshine that made all of your lives brighter, a force of nature and a ray of hope shining between the grim world of serial killers, stalkers and child abductors.

By right, she was thoroughly adored. By everyone.

“Please, sir Hotch, you know I can multitask,” she sassed him, sounding offended as the clicking in the background never ceased.

Even with your heart in your throat, you couldn’t but smile a fraction at her antics, giving her what she asked for – gladly.

“Steve, Natasha and Tony are here, now doctor Banner too. Clint’s around, but no Thor. And believe me, I know for a fact they should be excited as much as you are, working with a team as cool as the BAU.”

You caught Spencer smiling over his shoulder at you, still ready to write down any information Garcia was about to give you.

“Aww, honey! You just say that because it’s true!” Garcia cooed, causing the corners of your lips to twitch. You wished you had her cheerfulness – and her confidence, at least as a mask. “Alright, the delivery was executed by Bella Flora, pretty on the nose to be honest, a local shop owned by Julian Peters for eight years now. He’s clean besides doing dirty to his wife, aka cheating on her with his shop assistant, they divorced three years ago. Good for her if you ask me. The roses were paid from a credit card registered to… one Howard Fleming. I’m searching for—- oh.”

“What is it, Garcia?” Hotch questioned as everyone grew serious again.

You held your breath in anticipation; but you had a feeling that this was not a good kind of oh, even if you might be a little rusty on reading Garcia’s exclamations.

“Well, Mr. Fleming is 88 years old and lives in Idaho with his lovely wife and three adult children and way too many grandchildren. So I guess he’s probably not our unsub. Sorry, guys. I’m gonna dive into his kids’ background, but I’m afraid it’s more likely his card was stolen and not blocked properly. I’ll keep an eye on the activity on the card, keep digging and call you back.”

“We’ll be looking forward to it,” Spence assured her, not letting his disappointment show. “Thanks, Garcia.”

“Anything for you, Boy Genius. Hug Jones for me. Peace out.”

“He already did!” Tony called out, but the line was already dead. “I like her. Can I steal her for the A.I.?”

The response he got was overwhelming: Hotch, Reid, Emily, Natasha, Bruce, Steve and you managed to all to reply in unisono.

“No!”

“But-“

“Tony…” Steve warned him lowly, causing the man to lift his chin defiantly, a pout on his lips.

You rolled your eyes, refusing to deal with his child-like sulking.

“Let’s find each of the women an agent to bring her in, come on,” Natasha prompted him, her index finger poking Tony’s shoulder when he stared blankly ahead, still acting offended. “Your ego wouldn’t handle such competition in the house anyway.”

Considering everything you knew, you couldn’t argue; nor had the time for it anyway.

You had more important things at hand; to add to the profile since despite the new evidence surfacing, you had no names to add to the board.

“Okay. What do we know now?”

It could be barely an hour after the call and you were ready to scream in frustration: because you knew nothing anymore.

As nicely as you had wrapped it up yesterday, with a conclusion and a true sense of progress, the delivery made cracks in the very foundation of your investigation: the profile itself. You had planned to add to the profile after you regrouped in the morning, not to have it fall apart completely.

Too bad, it seemed.

And to add insult to the injury, you had nothing else either.

No useable fingerprints on the flowers or on the card.

No writing to analyse from the graphological point of view, because the card was typed and printed.

There was no residue of a chemical weapon to disguise an attack as a flower delivery.

There were no bugs.

Garcia had texted Hotch that the Flemings were coming off clean so far.

All you had was the photos and plain flowers with a crazy note, with a lot of questions attached to it rather than answers.

You were so fucked; back to square one if not on square zero or square minus one.  

“There’s something off about all this… I feel like we’re missing an important variable,” Reid muttered as he watched the board, arms crossed over his chest.

“There’s something off from the start if you ask me,” Natasha said dryly, eyeing him, Emily, Hotch and you. “Thoughts for us with less profiling experience, please?”

You glared at all the notes, refusing to answer. To say you were thoroughly displeased with the development would be an understatement. You were pissed. Because nothing was making sense anymore, which was saying something, since it didn’t seem to make any sense from the very start. You were one step from becoming a nihilist.

Luckily, Emily took initiative, sharing her thoughts.

“Well, at first, we profiled the unsub as narcistic. The not worthy meaning why don’t you notice me, I’m right here, I’m much better than them… but then these flowers, white roses of all things – not passion. White signifies purity or grief, roses are timeless classics, expensive. Even the I could hurt those who are not worthy of you. It’s like she’s saying I would hurt people for you if they hurt you. It’s… it’s almost protective.”

Protective my ass. You did agree with Emily wholeheartedly, but her words only fed your frustration.

The most puzzling thing for you now was the bullets; what kind of an unsub could think of stealing a means of ending the object of her affections in case he’d disappoint her or rejected her so long in advance? More so if she was the protective type? It didn’t make sense – most people would care about this after their target betrayed them, usually using a weapon of opportunity.

Or were the bullets only something to ensure Steve’s obedience? You, my beloved, will do as I say, or I’ll shoot you dead? How was that being protective?

You were no fan of using violence at any cost but you swore you could put one of those modified bullets straight between the unsub’s eyes at the moment. If you only got the change or had any clue about who she was to begin with.

“It’s true that if you look at the note linguistically, she chose different modal verbs,” Reid jumped in, gesturing wildly as he pointed at the note he rewrote on the board, red marker in hand. “I would never hurt you suggests an incredibly low probability, leaning towards epistemic modality. In contrast, I could hurt those who are not worthy of you suggests not only determination, but also the ability, leaning towards deontic modality. She says she is able to hurt, she has the means. I would think she’s talking about the bullets, but those are not any more harmless than a normal bullets to anyone except for Steve…”

You shuddered as you watched him from the other side of the table, hating the invested expression on his face. You adored your friend, truly, but it would be great if he could come down from his genius plane of existence and think about the fact this was not a puzzle to solve for fun, but to save a life.

What was he even talking about? What did it matter?

“What are the chances she didn’t know what she was taking?” Reid asked, turning to Tony, who only replied with a silent confused frown.

“What do you mean?” you scoffed, irritation rising by the minute.

Everything you had put together was falling apart. You weren’t sure of anything anymore; something just wasn’t adding up, the unsub brimming with contradictions.

Protectiveness and care were more likely to point at a female unsub, than again the emphasis on violence was considered typically male.

An apology – I’m sorry I scared you into hiding – was extremely untypical for a narcissist at best.

And now Reid was questioning the intelligence of the unsub and the level of organization she possessed by wondering whether she knew what she had taken? Get the fuck out of here.

“Could she have thought she was simply taking some special reinforced bullets, not knowing they were designed to hurt Steve specifically?” Reid pressed, causing you to grit your teeth.

You believed the chances of that were zero.

But what did you know? What did any of you know anymore? All you had was a bunch of agents and profilers going around in circles.

“I don’t know, G-man,” Tony hummed sceptically, shaking his head. “There are a lot of devices that could do much more damage to anyone. And some of them just as easy to carry. And you said she was… what do you call it, organized? She had to know what she was after, right?”

It was a testimony to how fucking messed up the situation was that for once, you agreed with Tony Stark, even if only on one thing. You could still smother him though, with your bare damn hands.

More damage? Bullshit.

This was bullshit. More damage? How was it possible that something more dangerous than a weapon to murder his friend wasn’t guarded better?

Tony really had the audacity to say that the unsub could have taken something that—that was insane.

How was the theft still an issue with no real suspects in the first place?

Why were you still dealing with this, questioning motivations, the level of how organized the unsub was?

This should have already been done. These were the Avengers and the BAU and an artificial intelligence joining forces for god’s sake!

And yet, you were a mile behind the unsub.

You weren’t working fast enough. You weren’t doing your damn job and someone was going to get hurt. And that someone was going to be the person you cared about the most and that was just so fucking maddening and downright impossible, because this was Steve. Steve had to be okay, he was always okay, even when he wasn’t, because he was Steve---- god-dammnit he was not going to end up like Meyers, he had to be okay and it was your damn responsibility to make sure he would and you WERE going to do exactly that.

‘She knew what she was after?’ Fuck that.

“Who, you mean,” you muttered darkly, unable to hold your irritation at bay anymore.

Six heads turned to you, some swift, others with reluctance. Only Tony voiced his confusion, as eloquent as ever.

“Huh?”

“You meant who she was after,” you corrected him again, realization dawning on his face as you looked him dead in the eye.

The sudden thickness of air was nearly palpable. Good, you thought. The same air felt just as heavy in your lungs for a while now. Your heart was speeding up gradually, blood boiling

No one moved. No one spoke. No one dared to as much as suck in a breath, feeling a storm brewing. You purposely avoided looking at Steve; your voice would break, the indignation would give into self-pity – and you did not want that.

“How the fuck do we still not have a suspect? How the fuck did we just get a flower delivery with a note that screams stalker and the shop just went with it, no fuss, no calling the police? Or you,” you hissed, nodded to Natasha and Tony’s direction. “They were sending an absurdly sketchy stalkerish note to the Avengers Tower and they what, they just didn’t care?”

Were people really so stupid these days or maybe desensitized? Or simply indifferent? Not giving shit about anything anymore?

Natasha took a breath, ready to react, but before she could, Emily stepped in.

“Well… they do care about business. You worked with the BAU, you studied human behaviour… you know what kind of kinky stuff people are into, this is probably far from the creepiest note that went through their hands,” she reasoned, her matter-of-fact tone only feeding your anger.

“I don’t give a damn about people’s kinks or their damn business! They should have known better-“

“Sparkles,” Steve interjected gently, your head whipping his direction on instinct.

You didn’t linger with your gaze long enough to have him shake you, extending your index finger in his direction to stop whatever excuse he had for the damn shop owner – or your poor ensemble of a team.

No, you were done with this shit.

“Don’t- we should all know better. We’re profilers, you’re the Avengers for god’s sake!” you exploded, hands flying in wild gesture to each and every one of them. “We have an artificial intelligence on our side! With so many clues and assets, we should have already made an arrest. Instead, we are comparing modality as if she didn’t choose it completely randomly-“

“That’s not very likely, she is highly organized-“ Reid argued, voice perfectly levelled in contrast to the rising volume of yours.

You almost laughed, the sound tasting sardonic and fake.

For real? Who the fuck was Reid kidding?

“Do we really know that, Reid? Or are we just playing psychic, spit-balling as we go? What if she is so organized that she chose the modality to throw us off? What if she knows everything about damn floriography and she’s playing with us? Huh? Not even with Steve anymore, us, because she knows he came here, she probably figured we have profilers involved because she clearly did her homework on me and Natasha-“

“Sparkles-“

You promptly ignored Steve’s attempt to speak, only raising your voice further to drown him out.

“WHAT do we actually know? We had a profile and now it’s fallen apart! We have more evidence, but instead of suspects, we have fucking ziltch! Some profilers we are, if we’re completely hopeless until a dead body drops, which is not a fucking option here! What are we even-”

“Jones.”

The new voice had your mind come to a screeching halt, an old instinct kicking in, breath hitching.

A fresh flood of emotion – guilt and shame above all – cut off the burst of outrage. It was like flipping a switch on you, your brain in particular.

That was how powerful Hotch’s authority was: a single uttered word, not menacing, but a kind warning; strict, but gentle. Fatherly.

You did not fall silent out of fear; but out of deeply ingrained respect.

“That’s enough,” Hotch added for a good measure, his calmness washing over you like a wave.

You took a deep breath, feeling tears burning in your eyes as you looked at every member of each team, purposely only skimming over Steve again, unable to face him.

It was obvious to anyone who bothered to look: everyone in the room was tired and frustrated too, but also determined. Concerned, because they all cared – about you, about Steve, and about the case.

They were all good people and they were here to help. The last thing they needed was your salty attitude and your inability to deal with stress and past trauma.

You knew that all along; but you needed to realize it again. Just as you had needed to voice your irritation – even if your friends deserved better.

And so did Steve. If you looked at him for longer than a second, you were sure you’d cry.

“Sorry. I’m sorry, everyone. I didn’t mean to yell and—I’m sorry,” you stumbled over your words, taking another calming breath. Jesus, you needed to get the hell out of here. Now. “Uhm. I need fresh air. And some actual non-healthy sugar and coffee. What can I get you, guys? Macchiato with one sugar for Steve, mocha with a double shot of espresso and four sugars for Spence, you guys…?”

The rest of the room obediently told you their preference, not even blinking, tuning down the obvious concern in their expressions for you.

No one protested against your plan. No one pointed out that Tony’s coffee machine was a thing from caffeine addicts’ dreams and could prepare virtually anything. No one offered to help you with the large number of cups and sweet treats you had mentioned, understanding that needing air meant needing some alone time too.

It seemed they could all be pretty smart cookies after all – you would crack this case before it was too late, right? There were no other options anyway.

You motioned an awkward ‘gotcha’ on Emily and Hotch, nodding to yourself.

“Should have remembered those orders – some things never change,” you said wistfully, grabbing your phone with a credit care in its case. “Coming right up, guys. It’s on me.”

“Thanks, Bean.”

You smiled tightly at Spence, all but escaping the room as you felt more and more embarrassed at your emotional outburst – something coffee could hardly make up for, especially since it wasn’t your first scene in the past 24 hours.

You were all over the place ever since this mess started and you really did need to get your head straight.

And since getting a good night sleep in Steve’s room – bless him – didn’t help, your morning slip-up only making for more nerves, it seemed that you needed to do it alone.

→ Next part

Series masterlist // Steve Rogers masterlist // Misc masterlist

Thank you for reading 🥰 We’re entering the second half of the series... and things are happening 👀