#where angst are booby traps

[gomzdrawfr]

Always funny watching someone new who stumbles across my blog, and going through my arts and the tags starts off as “ah cUTE” and then they get hit by the angst hammer and go “WHY”

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

Mutual worship between Steve Harrington X fem reader who is also like El with the powers or her sister, and she uses them to save him and it's like love at first sight for them, and he tries to prove to her that he is still not in love with Nancy and they give each other a chance

.⋆｡Soft Hands｡⋆.

Steve Harrington x plus size reader

You were meant to be a weapon, the failed experiment before your sister but he sees you as something so much more

Warnings: smut, oral (m and f receiving), protected sex, some angst, reader is El’s sister but no description is given, some blood, telekinetic!reader, jealousy, implied virgin!reader, insecurity WC: 2.1k

6k Follower Bingo Celebration

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

The feel of another person’s skin against your own was something entirely foreign in to you. The warmth was almost overwhelming to your delicate nerves but you found yourself craving more of it. 

“Steve.” Your fingers tangled in his perfect hair, tugging on the thick locks as his lips continued along their path down your chest. His toned stomach was plastered to your soft one, as if he were unable to part from you for even a single moment. His fingers dug into the fat of your hips as he wedged his body between your thighs.

“Beautiful.” He murmured reverently, sending a jolt up your spine. Your back arched and you tugged him closer.

——————

You could see the fear in their eyes, practically fucking smell it as the kids pressed together, your sister disappearing behind their small shoulders. You almost scoffed at their pathetic attempt to keep you back. “I’m not here to take her.”

“Yeah cause we won’t let you.” The one with the curly hair spat out, puffing up his chest in some vain attempt to look bigger. Eleven’s head popped up between his and another boy’s, the ghost of a smile on her lips. You sighed.

“Is there at least an adult looking out for all of you?” The boys glanced at each other then sent their glares back at you.

“We have a Steve.” 

“And who is that?” 

“Me.” An older boy stepped out of the shadows of the forest, a baseball bat over his broad shoulder, his jaw set. But his brown eyes were bright as they traced the curves of your body. And for the first time in your life, something stirred deep in your stomach.

——————

Your heels dug into his shoulder blades as Steve finally reached his destination. He was not shy in the way his tongue lapped up the slick juices that covered your inner thighs like it was the only thing he craved. Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip, muffling your moans as best you could.

The tip of his sharp nose brushed against your clit. “Fuck you taste so good baby.” He groaned, tugging your thighs upwards so he could delve deeper between them. You gasped and clutched at the back of his head.

“S-Steve.” You felt him smirk against your pussy before he finally took mercy on you. 

“It’s ok, I’ve got you baby girl.” Pleasure ricocheted through you, sparking a warm hum to spread across your skin, the weight of his arms around your lower stomach keeping you pinned as he feasted.

——————

“We need to get out of here now!” Steve’s voice was barely audible over the rumble of the earth above you.

“There’s not enough time!” A chunk of the concrete ceiling groaned and broke away, slamming down barely a yard from where you and Steve were standing. Your heart pounded loudly in your ears as panic quickly filled your veins. You couldn’t quite remember how exactly you had gotten here; a fight with your sister, then Steve, then you wanted to hunt down your makers yourself but the idiot King of Hawkins had refused to leave you alone. 

A wrong code entered into one of the ancient computers or maybe it had been a booby trap in the elevator but what mattered now was that an entire underground facility was about to come down on top of your heads.

Steve grabbed your wrist, fully intent on bolting for the elevator but you knew it was far too late. With all your might, you pulled Steve back into you. He stumbled but caught himself, his arms winding around your thick waist as you raised your own above your heads.

Power rippled through you, projecting outwards in a wave. Your body began to tremble as thousands of pounds of concrete and earth fell on top of you. Steve held you even tighter, his body curling around your own, as if he expected your power to fail at any moment and it would be his turn to protect you.

Blood dripped from your nose as the wave grew bigger, pushing away the material that almost entombed you. Just as the first light of morning broke through the haze of brown and grey, you blacked out, falling against Steve’s chest.

“It’s ok, I’ve got you.”

——————

“Ah god please baby, you’re killing me here.” Steve threw his head back against the pillows, his fists curled into the sheets on his bed. You smiled shyly against his pelvis, his cock resting against your full cheek. Your pussy clenched around nothing at how hot he felt against your skin, the way he throbbed as soon as his eyes met yours.

“So pretty Stevie.” You mumbled, pressing a gentle kiss to the base of his cock. Steve’s entire body flinched and he grabbed the sheets even tighter. You inhaled his thick scent, determined to commit it to memory, though you doubted this would be the last time you would be in this position.

You shifted onto your forearms, letting his cock fall back against his belly. A thick drop of pre-cum splattering against the dark hair below his belly button. “An’ it’s all mine.” Your tongue poked out from between your lips and you licked up the entire length of him, refusing to break eye-contact with him. 

Slowly, your lips wrapped around his tip, savouring the way he tasted on your tongue. Steve’s moan echoed through the bedroom.

——————

The alcohol in your veins made your body vibrate with a pleasant buzz. Nancy had somehow convinced you and Robin to have a ‘grown-ups girl’s night’ with some pizza, crappy horror movies and a couple bottles of wine she had somehow gotten her hands on. 

You were actually feeling care-free for possibly the first time in your life. 

You sat on the love seat by the couch, Robin sitting on the ground between your legs as Nancy trapped herself over the couch, an empty wine glass hanging precariously between her fingers.

“I’m telling you! Jonathan is absolutely godly in bed.” Robin made a gagging noise that made you dissolve into yet another round of giggling. Nancy just rolled her eyes and continued. “I mean he’s so much better than Steve was. God that man was selfish! Can’t tell you how many times I faked it.”

Your stomach dropped but in her inebriated state, Nancy didn’t notice your now sour expression. “I can’t even tell you how many girls he’s slept with and he was still shit at giving head.” She couldn’t be talking about your Steve could she? Not the Steve that showed you all the music and pop culture you had been missing out on. Not the Steve who would comfort you after your nightmares. Not the Steve who made heat crawl up your cheeks and your heart stutter.

“Steve?” Your voice trembled and Robin looked up at you, her brows scrunched.

“Yeah! Steve Harrington! Don’t know how that man ever got one girl into bed let alone the entire senior year.” She scoffed and went to take a sip from her glass, only to find it empty. “Need more wine.” She murmured and shakily got to her feet, her determined steps disappearing into the kitchen.

Robin’s fingers against your knee broke you from the downward spiral you quickly found yourself falling into. “You ok?”

You wiped the tears from your cheek as you nodded, your voice escaping you.

——————

The crinkle of the foil packet grounded your hazy mind. You were on your back once more, comfortably nestled in the mountain of pillows that smelled just like him. Steve looked ethereal in the yellow lamplight, the sweat along his torso was like drops of molten gold highlighting the dark hair that seemed to cover every inch of him. His chest heaved as he struggled to catch his breath and concentrate on the condom in his hands.

“Steve.” You urged, desperation bleeding into your tone. His long eyelashes fluttered as he let out a whine.

“I know baby, I know.” He ripped the top clean off, throwing the wrapper over his shoulder the moment he pulled the latex out. Your legs wrapped around his thin hips, urging him closer all while he rolled the condom down his length. He gripped himself by the base as he leaned down, plating his right hand by your head.

“You’ll tell me if it hurts?” You nodded frantically, making him chuckle softly and press a kiss to your lips. His head notched against your entrance, the threat of how far he would stretch you already palpable. He slowly pushed forwards, letting go of himself in favour of holding your hip.

You gasped and clutched at his left hand. Your fingers intertwined as he held both your hands against your soft stomach. He bottomed out with a groan, leaving your mind empty save for the feeling of just how full you were.

——————

“I just don’t get it!” You fought the urge to roll your eyes, anger still swirling in your gut. Steve was almost hysterical at this point but you didn’t care anymore. “I thought we were friends! And now you’re what, leaving Hawkins without even a good-bye?!” 

You slammed the suitcase shut, a parting gift from Hopper who was now acting as your sister’s guardian. “Yeah well my understanding of social interaction may be severely lacking but I don’t think friends are supposed to lie to each other.” You finally turned to face him, and for just a moment, you wanted to rethink your entire plan. 

Steve’s eyes were shining with tears, the tip of his nose the same shade of red as his cheeks. “When have I ever lied to you? Better yet, what would I lie to you about? Cause I’m damn-well sure that I’ve only ever been honest with you.”

“Really?” You glared at the boy, “So what do you call Nancy?” 

He huffed. “What the fuck about Nancy?”

“You dated her! You kissed her! You-“ You swallowed harshly, unwilling to let anymore tears fall for this boy, “You dated her and you never told me.”

“Is that why you’re leaving? Because I didn’t tell you about my dating history?” The flush that crawled up his neck now was decidedly not from sadness or some sense of betrayal, this was anger. “I thought you didn’t care about all that. You told me you didn’t when we were at the lake.”

“Because I didn’t know that she was one of them!” You snapped. 

The fight suddenly left you then and you sagged down onto the small cot you had been using as a bed. You sniffled, your eyes burning with tears you had already cried. Steve blinked, seemingly coming back into himself as you whispered. “Why didn’t you tell me that she was one of them?”

Steve kneeled in front of you, gently placing his hands on your knees like he was trying to comfort a spooked animal. “Why does this matter so much? Nancy is in the past for me, the way past. She’s not the girl I really want.”

“But she’s perfect. She’s not a killer, she’s not damaged.” Your fists clenched at your sides as your chest burned. You knew it had all been too good to be true, there was no way Steve had liked you, you were just safe. You knew how to keep secrets, that’s why he confided in you on that dark night by Lover’s Lake.

Steve scoffed. “I’ve seen Nancy wield a sawed off shotgun better than she can hold a pencil. I think she’s more of a killer than you.” He tried to take your hand but you snatched it away and stood up, darting to the other side of the room, out of his reach.

“That’s not the point!”

“Then what is?” He begged, still on his knees.

“That I’m a monster and I stupidly thought that I wasn’t and let myself believe.” Your arms curled around your stomach, avoiding his eyes as much as possible. 

“Believe what?” He sounded angry again but you couldn’t bring yourself to care, not anymore.

“That I could be loved.” Steve slowly rose to his feet.

“You’re a fucking idiot.”He grabbed your jaw and slammed his lips to yours as your nails bit into his shoulders.

——————

The room was stuffy and stunk of sex but neither of you dared to move even an inch, not wanting to break the peaceful bubble surrounding you. You could hear Steve’s heartbeat beneath your ear as you laid on his bare chest, the strong beat lulling you into an almost trance. His arm reached down the length of your back, the tips of his fingers just brushing the swell of your ass. 

You were pleasantly sore and exhausted, your mind empty save for the buzz of happiness that you knew you would already crave more of. “Thank you.” You pressed a kiss into his pec.

“For what baby?” His voice was thick, exhaustion bleeding into his tone. 

“Being kind.” Your other hand slipped around his waist, keeping his body bound to yours. Steve chuckled, his lips pressing to the crown of your head.

“We really need to work on your standards.”

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would've could've should've pt1

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Part of the 500 Follower Celebration Requested by: Anonymous

Summary: A careless comment from Thor calls into question the stability of your relationship with Loki

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: 18+ | mature themes; the slightest bit of steam toward the beginning; angst; Tony and Thor having a very much "bro" type attitude and not in the good way; hinting at Reader's emotional baggage; the slightest mention of human experimentation [let me know if I missed anything!]

Things to be aware of: established but private/secret relationship; Reader's baggage will be explained further in part 2

There was something rather peaceful in the routine you and Loki had settled into when either of you came back from a mission. Decompressing the night before the debriefing care of Rogers that you took bets on how long this one would last. And whoever won would get to pick where to get takeout from on your next indoor date night.

Your last mission was particularly stressful, nearly losing a limb from triggering a booby trap while retrieving intel about potential human experimentation from a HYDRA base. The second Nat mentioned that little tidbit in passing while you were unpacking your equipment from the mission, the god left the common area, raiding the pantry for a selection of your favorite snacks, and queueing up one of your comfort movies.

The one about a woman that hit her head and found herself stranded in a romantic comedy only to realize that her best friend, the one that had been in front of her all this time, was her great love all along.

When you got to your apartment, Loki was already there with the movie ready to play on the screen, and he even went the extra step to open and plate the snacks on the coffee table in your living room for easier access. And the cherry on top of it all was that he brought over one of his sweaters for you to change into, something he'd been doing more and more ever since you mentioned how comfortable they were during one of your missions together where you'd shared a suite.

"You know, I'm pretty sure they're watching the same movie outside," you mentioned, speaking around the wafer stick you were munching on. "Nat just texted me that she has Netflix power considering how this mission got us stressed out to hell and back. Wanna just watch it outside with the rest of the guys?"

The god shook his head, pulling you closer to him. "If we join them outside, then I would be unable to do this." He tilted your chin up and pressed a soft kiss to your lips. "And this is my favorite part," he mumbled against your skin before proceeding to give you a series of kisses, increasing with passion in each one.

Suddenly whatever was happening in the movie didn't matter to you anymore, an army of butterflies fluttering near violently at your stomach as he wrapped his arm around you and maneuvered your positions until you were straddling him on the couch, your knees on either side of his hips. He kept his hand on your waist, holding you steady while his other hand buried itself in your hair before he licked into your mouth, letting out a decadent sounding moan when your tongues met.

He moved his hand to your lower back, changing your positions once again so that your back was flat on the couch, and he hovered over you and between your legs. You leaned into his touch, losing yourself in his attentions, until his hand moved upward, cupping your breast. That was when you broke the kiss.

"I'm sorry," he panted, immediately moving his hand away once he saw the frantic, panicked look in your eyes. "I got carried away--"

"No, sweetie, I'm sorry," you insisted, placing your hands on his shoulders, and pulling yourself up slightly to kiss him, trying to reassure your boyfriend he did nothing wrong. "It's just…I want to be ready, really, I do. And I know it's frustrating for you it's just that…every time we take a step  in that direction something in me starts running and cowering in a corner, it's not fair to you that--"

"Please don't apologize, darling, you have nothing to be sorry for." He righted your positions on the couch, delicately stroking your hair and giving you a soft peck on your lips before he stood, offering you his hand. "I think we could both benefit from cooling off a bit. Would you like to join the others outside?"

Despite having offered it yourself just a few minutes earlier, your stomach dropped when the tables had turned, knowing that you'd put a stop to something that could have turned out completely mind-blowing and possibly even life changing. Only thing was, when you reached the peak of a relationship, that was it.

The only way forward was down.

"You go ahead," you told him, walking toward your bedroom. "I'll just change into my sweats first…so no one asks questions."

By some miracle, no one on the team had caught on yet that you two had started seeing each other and had been in a relationship for the better part of the year. And neither of you seemed to be itching to burst your little bubble of privacy quite yet, knowing that the second the team knew, Wanda and Nat would be down your throat with questions practically begging for every detail. And Thor would be doing much of the same for his brother.

At least that was the story you tried to tell yourself. It was better than what that little voice in your head tried to scream at you every time he didn't take the seat next to you. Or when he'd drop your hand and take a few steps back the second he heard someone rounding the corner.

Loki gave you a strained smile, starting to walk toward your front door. "I'll see you outside then." Before you could reach your bedroom, he called out to you. "I love you, little mortal."

You blinked back the tears that were threatening to come out, looking back at him with a contrived smile of your own. "I love you, too, Mischief."

A good few minutes passed before you exited your apartment, the movie paused on the TV and a rather lively discussion being had among your teammates. Something about Barnes' new girlfriend.

"Oh good you're here, jellybean, welcome to the circus," Tony greeted you, jutting his chin toward the empty seat next to Wanda. "Need your input on something."

Instead of taking the seat, you walked over to the bar to pour yourself a glass of wine. You had a feeling you were gonna need it. On your way there, you spotted Loki seated near his brother, giving you a minuscule smile and a tiny wave of his hand.

"Go ahead, I'm listening," you called out.

"Stark's trying to tell me the woman I'm seeing isn't all that interested in me because she doesn't want to spend the night," Bucky started. "Said she's just with me for the aesthetic of dating me, whatever backwards 21st Century nonsense that is. I'm trying to tell the rest of these horn dogs that maybe she's just not ready yet. Good things take time. Flowers need to blossom--"

"Sarge, don't ever say that line again, it's so cheesy you'll attract rats in here," you shot back, pointing your finger at the soldier before turning toward Stark. "That said though…I'm with Bucky on this one, Stark. Maybe she's just not ready yet I mean…not everyone's ready to drop trou and put out so easily, you know. How long have you been dating this girl anyways?" You turned back to Bucky as you asked the question.

"Three weeks? Give or take?"

"Dammit Stark, it's only been three weeks, give our boy some time." You made a show of facepalming before you picked up your glass, plopping down next to Wanda who immediately rested her head on your shoulder.

"They've been at this for the last ten minutes," she groaned. "Wake me when they put the movie back on." Meanwhile, you clocked Nat next to her, not so subtly massaging her temples in an attempt to calm herself down. You shared the feeling; this was such a common sense discussion it shouldn't have lasted thirty seconds.

"Well then perhaps you could provide some insight for another situation, Lady Y/N," Thor boomed from across the floor, swatting his brother's hand away when he tried to get the blond Asgardian to stop.

"Brother you really need not--"

"Nonsense. Lady Y/N seems knowledgeable on how timetables and relations between mortals work, perhaps she'll finally give the perspective I have been seeking."

Your boyfriend shot you a look, as if he was already embarrassed by what his brother was about to say, piquing your curiosity even more. "I'm all ears, Thunder. Ask away."

"My brother has been seeing a mortal woman for the better part of the last Midgardian year. My best estimate…eight moons," he began, your stomach once again dropping at the realization that he was about to ask your insight about…yourself. You gave him a motion to go on, placing your glass on the table to hide the way your hand had begun to shake. "And while it has been as you here on Midgard would say 'like pulling teeth' trying to get him to divulge any detail about her, something I have surmised is that she also seems unwilling to spend the night with him. Yet he claims they love each other."

"Yikes, tough break, Reindeer Games!" Tony winced. "My two cents? You're not just on the same boat with Barnes over here, you're the goddamn captain of the ship. Go on, jellybean, tell him."

"I-I…" you stuttered, your heart thundering in your chest from unwittingly having been placed on the proverbial hot seat. "Maybe she just…wants to be sure, you know? I mean…I don't know how y'all do it in Asgard but here, with some people, being intimate is…something m-more than physical."

You could see from where you sat that the raven-haired god's fingers were twitching, his leg bouncing as if he wanted to stand up and leave the room. You pretty much wanted out of this, too.

Thor waved off your explanation. "I completely disagree. That amount of time passed, I believe one should be sure lest she be wasting both of their time. Brother, much as I can tell you love this mortal, it is my expert opinion, which I believe will be backed by the men in this room, that your mortal woman does not love you. This is, as our genius friend Stark has stated earlier, all for the optics of having you at her arm."

It was getting impossible to breathe. How dare he say that about you right in your face like this? Thinking he knew everything there was to know about your relationship just because he was in one of his own?

"You know not the first thing about her, Brother," Loki hissed, speaking through his teeth as if he was readying himself to strike.

"I know enough," the blond Asgardian shot back dismissively. "You know I think the world of you, Brother, and after everything you've endured, you deserve every bit of happiness this universe will grant you." He clapped his hand on Loki's shoulder. "If this mortal shares not this sentiment, then perhaps your time is better spent elsewhere."

"He's right, Mischief," you choked out, your voice so small you were surprised it even traveled that far that it had everyone looking to you. "Maybe you are wasting your time with this one…you know, if she's making you wait so long." You stood up abruptly, making Wanda groan in protest when she nearly fell over to the spot you'd just vacated.

In what was probably your most poorly miscalculated decision for the night, you downed your wine in a single gulp, starting to walk back to your apartment.

"Hey where you going, jellybean, you just got here," Tony hollered from his seat. "Come on, I know talking about Frosty the Snowman's nonexistent sex life was a drag, how about we all drop it for now, I'll order some tacos and we can go back to grilling Manchie here."

"Or we could lay off either of us and grill someone else for a change?" Bucky groaned, throwing his human arm over his eyes as he turned his face to the ceiling.

"You know what, you are so right, let's talk about the big guy who has a lot to say about being the resident relationship expert." Stark turned to face Thor. "How is Lady Thunder lately? And how are you with the whole your old hammer chooses her over you thing?"

The conversation faded into a dulled roar in your ears as the wine begun to take what fleeting effect it would have on you, your pulse faintly thumping in your ears as you made your way back to your apartment.

You hadn't even been back two minutes before your door swung open again, the God of Mischief standing at your entryway looking a mix of concerned and distraught. "Darling, I completely apologize for my oaf of a brother, I had no idea he would--"

"It's okay, Loki," you cut him off, throwing your hands up as if to push away the conversation. "Maybe he's on to something, I mean you should be with someone who doesn't take forever and a day to be ready for something like this, maybe we should--"

In an instant, he stood inches away from you, placing his hands on your shoulders in a gentle but firm grasp. "Don't say another word, my love, please." He rubbed his hands up and down your arms in a soothing gesture; whether it was to soothe you or him was beyond you.

"You want more, I get that," you pressed on. "And I can't give that to you--"

"You are all that I want, precious mortal." He leaned in, pressing a desperate kiss to your lips before wrapping his arms around you. "I am already more than content that you've even granted me the honor to know who you are outside of our duties. This is all I need, to be able to love you as I have these past moons."

Tears began to fall from your eyes as your words weighed heavy on your tongue. "I'm sure there's someone out there more than willing to give you what I can't, it's selfish of me to keep you--"

"Stop, little mortal, I beg of you," he pleaded, repeatedly pressing his lips to your forehead. "Don't rid yourself of me like this. I don't care if there's someone else out there, they aren't you." He sat you both down back on the couch, cradling you against his chest as his hand rubbed up and down your back in soothing motions. "Please just try to put what my oaf of a brother said out of your mind. His opinion is entirely his own and it is one I do not share."

Your next question blurted out without much resistance. "Loki what if I never become ready? What if you really are wasting your time with me, you shouldn't--"

"Any time I spend with you, regardless of how it is spent, is never a waste," he whispered, stroking your face as he held your gaze. "If ever you decide to share that part of yourself with me, it will be an honor that I will cherish for the rest of my days, but I will never be the one to place pressure on you to move yourself at a pace you're uncomfortable with."

You nuzzled your face into the crook of his neck, prompting him to press a kiss to your temple when you sniffled from the tears you were trying and failing to hold back. "I do love you," you mumbled against him. "You know that, right?"

"Of course I do, my darling mortal." He pressed his cheek against yours, taking deep breaths to calm himself after the scare your words from earlier gave him. He wanted to punch his brother clean across the jaw for jeopardizing his happiness with his careless words, and the stabbing pain it put him through seeing how deeply that opinion had cut you.

He started moving toward your bedroom, carrying you in his arms bridal style. Mostly in refusal to let you go even for a fraction of a moment.

"What're you doing?" you mumbled, making a motion to move out of his arms.

"We're going to bed, darling. Just to sleep, nothing more, I swear."

"Hmph…" you shook your head, the motion making the tip of your nose nuzzle his neck in a slight tickling sensation. "Maybe…maybe you should stay at your place tonight." Your voice was so small, so unsure of what you'd just said. The god stopped in his tracks, his body going rigid and making you immediately regret your words.

"Do you want me to leave, dear heart?" he choked out, his heart at war with himself as it protested against him putting you back down on your feet.

"No," you admitted, lifting your head from his shoulder and showing him the tears that had begun to redden your eyes. "I want you to stay, I'll always want you to stay, I just don't…" Your breath hitched in the back of your throat, almost sounding like a hiccup. "I don't want you to be frustrated because of me--"

"I'm not," he reassured you, resting his forehead on yours. "Being with you like this is more than enough for me. I need you to know this, my darling."

He laid you down on your bed before his clothes changed into his own loungewear set with a wash of his green magic, settling under the covers next to you and pulling you into his arms.

"Promise me something, Mischief?"

"Anything."

"If…and when…the time comes that you get tired of waiting? And you want to be with someone else--"

"Little mortal, not another word." He tightened his hold on you, as if he couldn't hold you close enough. "Please, my love, let's just retire for the night."

"Just let me get this out," you insisted. "Let me say my piece and I'll never mention it again. Okay?"

He sighed, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead. "Okay."

"If you want to be with someone else, just promise you'll tell me and leave me first? I don't wanna find out waking up one morning and seeing someone else with her arms around you and just waving it around for everyone to see." Your voice dwindled and wavered into barely a whisper, your arm tightening around his midsection, a part of you already refusing to give him up even if the day were to come.

"That will never happen," he told you. "Why would I ever wish to leave you?"

"Just--Just promise me anyway. Please?"

"Look at me, little mortal." He traced along your jaw with his finger, tilting your chin up so he could see your eyes. The sight of the genuine fear of that precise outcome reflected in your expression knocked nearly all of the air from the god's lungs. "On the remotest chance of that happening, I promise I will never do wrong by you. But I want nothing more than for you rest assured that I will never wish to be with another.

"Perhaps one day you'll believe it. But I will gladly spend my days proving my devotion to you. This…This I will gladly swear to you. On whatever semblance of a soul I have left." He brushed the tip of his nose against yours before pressing a tender kiss to the same spot. "I love you, my darling Y/N."

You finally settled in his embrace, resting your head on his chest as you began to let your breathing even out. "I love you, too, Loki."

Just the thought of history repeating itself one day had your blood going cold, feeling as if your very bones were shaking from the images your mind conjured of the inevitable day that Loki would leave you. Somewhere deep inside you knew it was ridiculous for you to even think that your boyfriend was anywhere even near capable of putting you through what he had all those years ago.

But that was the thing about fear. Sometimes it was rational, like jumping out of the Quinjet and having a passing scare that your parachute had a hole in it. And other times it was outright absurd. Like now. Thinking that in the morning after you first had sex, the god would have realized there wasn't anything worth spending more time with. That he'd have had his fill of you and now it was time to move on to better prospects.

It didn't help, either, that your overly cautious mind was yelling that the signs were all there. That it could tell you exactly where this was headed because of the dropped hands. The refusal to even sit near each other. The barely there acknowledgement when you were even in the same room together. Everything that had happened before with him…felt like a mirror image of what was happening now. With Loki.

And you didn't have it in you to tell him that his desire for privacy was slowly and quite surely crushing you.

A/N: Starting off another story from the request pile! This is going to have 3 parts, where both parts 1 and 2 will deliver on the more angsty part and part 3 will be the comfort/fluff. I know you asked for "90% angst", Anon, but hopefully 10k words worth of angst will do it…because part 2 is 6.5k words long 😳👀

everything taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @kats72 @kikster606 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @peaches1958 @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th  @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @smolvenger @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokidokieokie @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina @kmc1989 @november-rayne @goddessofwonderland @buttercupcookies-blog @peaky-marvel @lokiified @tom-hlover

[hannyoontify]

casual - yoon jeonghan [teaser]

member | childhood best friend!jeonghan x fem!oc

genre | fluff, angst and angst and lots of angst, childhood best friends to ????

teaser word count | 1k (full fic est. 12k)

synopsis | throughout her childhood, jeonghan was the one constant in jeong-ah's life. he was her rock and she was his, but there was always an unspoken tension between the two, something that made jeong-ah's stomach flutter and her pulse race. was it casual, like jeonghan said? or was there a possibility of being something more?

warnings | none (in teaser)

notes | inspired from this post i made a while back! bc this was inspired by events that happened irl, i had to make it an oc so that things made sense (like their names) read the fic here!

“You should ask me why we’re in here instead of sleeping like everyone else.”

I let out a sigh that ended in a laugh. “Okay, Jeonghan. Why are we in here instead of sleeping like everyone else?”

Jeonghan immediately straightened his back and turned his body to face me, and I mirrored his movements. The way he looked at me with shining, excited eyes reminded me of the same 5-year old who enjoyed pulling on my pigtails and playing hide-and-seek.

Despite growing a lot in the past decade together, there were still some parts of Yoon Jeonghan that never seemed to change. For example, that mischievous look on his face whenever he was about to do something he wasn’t supposed to. 

“Wait here.” Jeonghan disappeared outside and I couldn’t help but smile at his excited, almost child-like demeanor. Resting my head against the wall, I looked up and saw the sloped ceiling decorated with glow-in-the-dark stars.

The door soon opened again and Jeonghan reappeared with a single cupcake, a match, a candle, and two mini party hats. “I know we all got in trouble with our parents today so we can’t celebrate New Year’s, but I still wanted to do something for you. I know how much you love New Year’s celebrations.”

It was true. When all six of us had gotten in trouble earlier that evening because Jeonghan convinced all of us to try and help him set up a booby trap in his grumpy neighbor's backyard involving popping firecrackers, I was greatly disheartened when our parents decided that our punishment would be a bedtime of 9:30 and no New Year’s celebration.

I was particularly more upset than others because my parents had promised me a year ago that this New Year’s celebration would be the year where I finally got to try champagne.

“Jeonghan, I-” I faltered. I couldn’t find the words to describe how grateful I was to have him at that moment. 

Jeonghan scrambled to sit in the empty spot next to me. “You can thank me and be impressed later, just put this hat on. We only have a minute left.” He snapped on his own party hat before sliding its identical piece over my own head.

With a shaky hand, Jeonghan struck the match and lit the candle that was stuck atop the cupcake. We had made these cupcakes earlier today, with the help of our siblings. It had always been a tradition of ours.

My family would go over to the Yoon family’s house for the New Year’s and we would spend the night. Jeonghan, his older brother, and I were the older ones so we usually resorted to playing video games, board games, and baking while our younger siblings played with toys or watched TV. Our time together was always fun and a big highlight of my winter break every year.

But two years ago, when Jeonghan and I kissed in the summer, something changed. Our conversations became more stiff and awkward and he seemed to avoid me and my text messages more often.

When I consulted my mother about this situation (minus the kissing part), she had laughed and told me, “It’s because both of you are going through puberty now. It’s okay, it’s natural! Your relationship is going to return to normal in no time.”

Albeit it did take two years and a global pandemic for the two of us to be back on speaking terms again, but I was thankful to have my best friend back.

Jeonghan looked at me with a bright smile as he softly began to count down, his phone propped up against the wall so we could keep an eye on the clock. The single flame of the candle seemed to reflect the hundreds and thousands of stars that Jeonghan held within his eyes. His long lashes fluttered against his pale cheek bone and that tear-shaped mole on his right cheek that I had always been fond of. 

“Five… four…” I joined him in the count down, our hands holding the small cupcake together. 

I’d grown to accept the fact that Jeonghan wanted to pretend that kiss never happened. I did a lot of thinking and reflecting to realize that it was our silly pre-pubescent emotions that had gotten the best of us in that moment. It never meant anything.

“Two… one! Happy new year!” Jeonghan cheered. “One, two, three!”

11 years of friendship helped me to immediately recognize Jeonghan’s intent when he began counting again.

When he reached 3, the two of us blew at the single candle and the flame flickered for a moment before it disappeared, leaving a small trail of white smoke in its wake. Jeonghan pulled the candle out of the cupcake and I dipped my finger into the frosting and smeared it across my best friend’s cheek.

Jeonghan smiled with a mischievous glint in his eyes before dipping this thumb into the white frosting and spreading it across my forehead. “Simbaaaaa.”

We both erupted into a fit of childish giggles as I tried to smear another glob of dense, sweet frosting onto his face, but he dodged my hand successfully. But because Jeonghan was blessed by the genetic gods and had much longer arms than I did, he was able to reach over and smudge another spot of white frosting onto the top of my nose.

“Ewww!” I cried loudly.

Jeonghan tried to shush me but it was too late. We heard a door upstairs opening, and a pair of footsteps moving down the stairs. Jeonghan and I held onto each other with bated breaths and when we heard the footsteps slowly fade away, we let out a quiet sigh of relief.

“Maybe they’re just grabbing water or some-” As Jeonghan whispered into my ear, the doorknob of the small door rattled and opened, revealing Mrs. Yoon, half disheveled with a face mask.

I clamped a hand over my mouth to suppress the giggle that was threatening to erupt as Jeonghan fumbled to find the right words. “H-hi, mom. We were just-”

“Out. Both of you. Now.”

Uh oh.

PLEASEEE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK

and as always, reblogs and feedback is always appreciated ^-^

[lola-writes]

One-Eye & the Dreamer

Part 5

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x O.C Aylana Velaryon

Word Count: 1,8k

Themes & Warnings: slow burn, friends to enemies, enemies to lovers, violence, blood, targcest, sexual themes, tension, drama, angst, fix-it of sorts, eventual smut, sexual inexperience, forbidden love, high valyrian, dance of dragons, POV first person

Summary: Aylana Velaryon foresees Aemond Targaryen's fate and assigns herself to alter it.

More chapters

– AYLANA –

in the aftermath, she shines.

blue fire in her palms; bloody roses in her hair.

she rises out of the sea.

nothing burns as bright as she.

The heat was a relentless beast, even in the absence of the sun, clawing at me with its suffocating breath. Sleep remained stubbornly out of reach. I tossed and turned like a ship in a storm until I got a crick in my neck, the sheets twisting into a tangled prison. 

Finally, I heaved myself out of bed and stumbled towards the basin, splashing myself with its tepid water. It offered me a fleeting reprieve, but a blessed oblivion seemed miles away.

Resigned, I got dressed, twisted my hair into a messy braid, and approached the wall in the back corner of my chamber. My hands rummaged across the familiar nooks and crannies of its rocky facade. If my memory did not fail me, this is where …

The wall suddenly shuddered in protest as it ground open into a gaping maw of darkness.

Maegor’s tunnels.

I grinned with satisfaction and threw one look over my shoulder before I vanished into its jaws, the heavy stone door groaning shut behind me.

My ancestor, King Maegor Targaryen, had them built as a secret escape route, a spider’s web spun beneath the Red Keep itself. Legends whispered of treacherous passageways, some so narrow they forced grown men to crawl, some booby-trapped with deadly cunning. Some coursed right outside the royal apartments, allowing a hidden person to unravel the darkest secrets.

The darkness pressed against me, thick and alive with possibility. Wind wailed through unseen cracks and rats skittered across the floors. The oil lanterns, flickering like trapped souls on the rough-hewn walls, cast long, distorted shadows that danced at the edge of my vision. They grew scarcer the further I went. 

The lower I delved, the cooler the air became – a welcome change. Though, the rats appeared to grow larger down here. Or was my mind playing tricks on me?

I took a right turn, then a left turn, continued ahead forty paces, then turned left again, just as I remembered. It would not bode well to get lost in here.

After what felt like an eternity of wandering the ancient tunnels, a sliver of grey pierced the oppressive darkness. Relief surged through me, and I quickened my pace. The passage widened, and with a final heave, I pushed myself through the opening. 

The warm night air washed over me again as I exited onto a rocky ledge overlooking the Blackwater. Moonlight painted a shimmering path across its surface, the sereneness only disturbed by the pulse of King’s Landing’s unseen heart. The distant sounds of laughter, the clatter of carts, and drunken brawls drifted from above. 

I started down the stairs, raising my skirts as I went. The lapping waves whispered promises of cool relief, carrying a breeze in toward the land. The water - the singular antidote for my tenacious perspiration – looked so inviting I did not linger to shed my dress, allowing it to pool down my slicked body. The ground turned from rocks to sand beneath my feet, then, the seawater embraced me like a long-lost friend, its coolness seeping into my bones, washing away all the grime, tension and vigil that stained me. My arms churned, propelling me into the moonlit body of the Blackwater with long strokes. The Red Keep, a hulking silhouette against the star-dappled sky, receded with each powerful kick. Its lit windows like eyes, watching me full of judgement. But in that moment beneath the vast expanse of the night, my naked body submerged beneath the water, I was descended into pure, unadulterated freedom. I doused myself in the cool seawater and exhaled with relief. 

For the briefest second – no, rather five, I thought life as a common-born would be preferable to this gilded cage I was living.

A low rumble, like a distant drumbeat, sounded across the Blackwater. Thunder? I cast my gaze to the star-dusted canvas, unencumbered by clouds. It would be impossible. It rumbled anew, closer this time, a tremor that sent shivers down my spine and iced my veins. 

Then, a massive silhouette descended from the heavens, blotting out the moon with its immensity. My pulse leapt into my throat.

Vhagar.

Her great, tattered leather, stretched taut like sails, beat the air with a thunderous rhythm, propelling her colossal form towards the city. In the ethereal, silver-lit night she was a nightmare made real, a monstrous beauty, a morbid fascination that would’ve held me captive if it weren’t for the plaguing question at hand,

Was she carrying her rider? I wondered. The idea was disconcerting. Though, a strange quiver bubbled through my core as I watched her draw closer. 

And closer. 

Closer still.

Taking a deep breath, I submerged myself fully beneath the dark, counting seconds, listening to the eerie silence of the depths, until I watched Vhagar’s blurry form pass overhead through the water’s surface. 

Once I could no longer feel her thunder, I surfaced, filling my lungs.

The encounter left me adrift in a sea of uncertainty. The cool allure of the water now felt distant, replaced by a chilling dread.

Had Aemond seen me? The question hammered in my skull, a relentless beating that drowned out any remaining peace, leaving me perturbed.

Would that if he was mounted at all? Vhagar might have just been flying all by herself. 

But if she wasn’t, what would bring him out at such a time? It was well into the hour of the wolf. 

Questions spun endlessly in my mind as I got myself to shore, not ceasing as I made my way into the tunnels. 

I decided I would not care whether or not I’d been exposed. 

I am the princess, I thought, a feeble attempt to anchor myself. Soon to be the heir to the Iron Throne. I can do what I like. Yet, the words tasted like ash in my mouth.

I could’ve relished the defiance of being seen, a secret rebellion against the court’s watchful eyes. But the consequences were too dire. A single word from Aemond to his mother, and the gossip would erupt into a wildfire, consuming my mother’s claim and scorching my legitimacy. 

Shame burned hot in my throat. The risk I had taken, the foolish yearning for a sliver of freedom, suddenly felt reckless.

Stupid fucking girl. My thoughts echoed in the silent tunnels. Why don’t you think twice?

But defiance flickered once again, a stubborn ember I liked to breathe life into.

It doesn’t matter what people think. 

The internal battle raged on, mirroring the fight for control in my shaking limbs. Twice, I nearly lost my way, the darkness reflecting the turmoil within me.

Reaching the upper levels, I ghosted past identical doors, taking great care in choosing the one to my apartments.

The silence, only momentarily interrupted by my breathing, took a sudden turn when I passed one of the doors.

“Pass me that, would you?”

A muffled voice came from behind it, and I froze, my heart hammering against my ribs. Without thinking, I pressed against the cool stone, trying to discern its owner.

“You’ve had enough.” Another voice, laced with vexation.

“Not nearly.”

A tremor of recognition shot through me, and nerves played beneath my skin.

“You drink more than a Braavosi Sealord.” Aemond’s voice was undeniable, a hint of resignation colouring his tone, a concession to his elder brother’s legendary indulge. 

Words or gestures were exchanged beyond my hearing.

“Don’t be a twat,” muttered Aegon, “You haven’t even touched your cup.”

“I’m not thirsty.”

“Suit yourself.” 

The sounds that followed painted a vivid picture: the scrape of a chair, a cup being drained with a heavy sigh, then a collapse back down.

“This Arbor gold has gone sour.”

“Dornish red,” Aemond corrected dryly.

Aegon scoffed. “Figures. Speaking of which, I’ve been told the so-called prince of Dorne graced us with his presence.”

“Indeed,” Aemond replied curtly.

“Cunt. Why is he here, anyway?” Aegon pressed.

“Private business, I believe.”

Aegon groaned theatrically. “Go on, brother, you always know more than that.” A playful edge crept into Aegon’s voice as he creaked in his chair.

“Find another source of gossip,” snapped Aemond.

Aegon groaned loudly.

“Mayhaps an abstemious habit might grant you access to firsthand information.”

Aegon mimicked him with slurred fraternal mockery, but Aemond did not retaliate, though the disdain that oozed from him was tangible.

“That’s why I have you,” said Aegon finally.

“Hmmph.”

“Not to worry, dear brother. I shall remain sober enough to mess with the Strong children.” Aegon rubbed his hands together vindictively, a grin in his voice. “The eldest one looked…”

My breath caught in my throat.

“Exceptionally tasty,” said Aegon salaciously.

Bile crept up my throat to his words, and my revolt was so strong I nearly retreated back into the tunnels, but a prickle of defiance held me rooted. Later, I’d curse that defiance.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that!” Aegon drawled, a cruel amusement in his voice, “I am merely reflecting your own… prior interest.” 

“You are mistaken.”

“To even think is to covet, dear brother.”

Venom poured into Aemond’s voice, “Aylana is as significant to me as a whisper in the Dragonpit.”

A strange ache bloomed in my chest.

“An illegitimate bastard styling herself as Velaryon,” he sneered. 

I could not bear to hear anymore. I pushed myself off the wall and continued my path forward, a curious emptiness hollowing me, a sticking feeling behind my eyelids. Aemond’s words, an endless echo in my mind, consumed me, to the point that I must have dissociated, for I could not recall how I reached my chambers. I had collapsed onto my bed, the emptiness and a bitter taste of betrayal warring within me, until blessed oblivion finally claimed me.

The press of bodies surrounded me endlessly, a pulsating mass that swayed to the relentless beat of the drums. As I filtered through their celebration, I found myself standing in front of the Iron Throne. Its jagged edges, forged from a thousand fallen enemies, seemed to drip with dark history.

“Your refreshment, princess.” Prince Marius Martell materialized beside me, offering me a goblet of emerald crystal, adorned with gold filigree. His dark gaze remained fixed on me as he took two large gulps of his wine. As I placed the rim to my lips, a choke tore from his throat. 

A crimson tide spilled from his mouth, and his eyes wept blood. Panic clawed at my throat. The goblet slipped from my grasp, clattering on the stone floor. Prince Marius crumpled into my arms, and I watched his slow, tremoring demise, infarctions webbing the veins of his throat, his eyes, wide and vacant, staring sightlessly through empty space as his body went still.

I awoke with a heart-wrenching gasp, clawing at my sheets desperately. The morning sun was pouring through the window like liquid gold and birds sang their performances. 

As my ragged breath calmed in my chest and reality dawned upon me, terror lingered, its cold, icy hands gripping my heart.

A shiver coiled down my spine. As much as I did not want to believe it, it would be foolish to ignore my heart’s indisputable warning. They had not come to me in years, yet this night I knew it to be true.         

It was a Dream – as clear as this room, as clear as my own name.

Something terrible was going to happen.

More chapters

[fantasies-fairytales-n-fics]

Code Blue Ch. 61- Foreshadows

Summary: Lee receives an infuriating gift and unleashes his wrath upon the givers. A sinister sign is interpreted that Josie can't deny. Two informative stories are revealed with two doctors. Josie wants to finish another's failed attempt. Lee has a most bittersweet dream.

*Chapter Warnings* Strong language, angst, mentions of suicide

Stories Stories Stories Masterlist:

Mach 24, 2022

Salem, Massachusetts

After crashing at his farm all morning with his dogs and cat, Lee tidied himself up, knocked back a Red Bull and headed down the stone road to his neighbor's home to thank her for taking care of his farm and animals while he was away. After some small talk over a quick cup of coffee, he then made his way to the home he once shared with Jacob to resume the neglected remodeling and feel close to his son, hoping Jacob would visit him again. He knew if he didn't keep himself busy, his thoughts of Josie would consume him and drive him in to a drunken stupor yet once again. As much as he craved the wicked whiskey's mind numbing properties and the burn of it rolling down his throat, he had to stay sober for his evening shift at the hospital and then he planned to medicate himself to his heart's content for his pre-planned birthday vacation that he now knew he would be spending alone.

With a Red Bull infused coffee with no lid in one hand, he fumbled for the house key as he blindly walked up the porch steps only to find himself stumbling over a small object near the front door and spilling the piping hot drink all over his hand and down his pants where it conveniently had appeared he had pissed himself.

Cursing like a sailor under his breath, he chucked the empty cup into the yard and scooped up the booby trap beneath his feet which was a small wicker basket filled with fresh baked cookies, for he could smell the warm aroma, and on top was a scribbled note attached. "My mom and I worked hard this morning when she got home to bake these for your berthday tomarrow and asked me to give them to you so you would have sumthing to eat and she said you like sweets and that you never eat at work and you are getting too skinny and she also wants to know if you can come over sumtime and she will make you a berthday diner.

Love your frend and nayber,

Dash.

Pee-ess,

She said she has wissky to and sorry I drank all the milk we had for the cookies. I hope you have sum."

Normally, Lee would have smiled and invited his favorite kid on the block to come join him because he did in fact have some milk but after the last few days he had, especially the early morning blow up and break up with Josie that Dash's mother's lies were partially to blame for, every little thing was getting under his skin and the unwelcomed gift and cocksure invite from Angel and using her son to deliver it had just triggered the time bomb inside of him that had been waiting to explode.

Lee marched inside and emptied the basket into the trash and then with the basket in hand, he marched right back out the front door, bee-lining straight for Angel's house next door where she was conveniently sitting on her front porch.

"Hey Lee, I saw you pull up and....oh," she paused with an aroused brow lift as she looked down at his wet crotch and giggled, "Did you have an...accident? I could help clean those up for you except my water is a bit rusty for some reason. Can you do plumbing?"

He tossed the basket at her feet and with hands in his pockets, he stood firm with a frown. "Look, I appreciate that you helped me out the other night but what I don't appreciate is you spreading rumors and lies through the hospital about you and me and what happened here that night, which was absolutely fucking nothing and I also don't want your damn cookies or whiskey or dinner that you would probably drug. As if I would ever put anything of yours in my mouth and I'm not fucking with your damn pipes either."

Lee instantly sighed, closing his eyes and mentally poured scalding hot coffee down his throat as he realized what he had just unintentionally and stupidly set himself up for in his fit of blinding rage.

Angel smirked. "Yeah, well I certainly recall you liked putting things of mine in your mouth and fucking with my pipes once upon a time."

"That's ancient fucking history and one sorry ass mistake because if you ALSO recall, it never happened again. I was drunk out of my damn mind from booze and grieving over the death of my son and I couldn't wash my dick enough times to feel clean after that. Speaking of son's, I also don't appreciate you using your kid to do your dirty work. You're a shitty ass mother just like Liz was. No wonder you two cunts instantly clicked. I truly hope Dash don't pay the price like Jake did. Crazy thing is, Dash is old enough to know better and he knows I have a girlfriend....well, HAD I should say...no thanks to your twisted lies that played a part in firing her up. I'd steer clear of her if I were you. She's pretty pissed, rightfully so and she's got a mean right hook and if you're ever on the receiving end like I've been, I hope I am there to witness it. I fucked up thinking you could actually be a decent human being by helping me out when I was in a jam without expecting anything from it but apparently all I did was unintentionally lead you on. That's my fault. I own it but I promise you, that will never happen again. Stay the fuck away from me. Got it??"

Before Angel could respond, Lee noticed Dash was eavesdropping from inside the open front door. With slitted eyes, he glared and pointed at the frightened boy who gasped and swiftly slammed the door shut and then placing his hands back in his pockets, Lee marched back home, leaving Angel with a scowl on her face.

As Gerry and Josie's mom spent the afternoon visiting with comatose Victor and making their amends, Josie continued to bond with her sister, washing and styling her unruly hair and doing her makeup to make her feel better after lying in a hospital bed for three days, unable to fully shower due to her leg cast but Josie knew the act of endearment was only delaying the inevitable meltdown that was coming.

Taking in a deep breath, Josie began informing Megan of Gerry's generous offer that would provide her and their mother a temporary safe haven at the Kiriakis mansion and that he would soon be coming to speak with her about the suppressed memories of her attacker that she had recently recovered and as predicted, she took the news just as Josie had presumed she would, ranting and raving in a bout of paranoia that the psychotic Scotsman, as the terrified and tearful redhead called him, was playing a trick and would surely strangle her in her sleep.

"You broke your promise!" Megan sobbed. "You still hate me. I knew it!"

"Megan, I do not hate you and I did not break my promise. I promised you I would do my best to keep you safe and that's what I'm doing. You need to trust me ok? I know Gerry better than anyone, better than you and if I thought he wasn't sincere, I would have never asked him to do it."

Megan's eyes bulged in anger. "YOU ASKED him to do it??? Oh my god. This is your secret way of making me pay for what I did isn't it!?! I'd rather face the shadow man than the doolally detective. Do you know what he said to me the day he was here with crazy eyes and veins popping out of his forehead??? He told me he hopes the Bean Nighe comes for me. I googled it and it's some malevolent Scottish fairy, some say Banshee, that screams and if you hear her, someone close to you will die!!! And I told you I heard a woman in my dreams screaming in the tunnels!!"

Josie choked down the overwhelming urge to laugh, only because Gerry's mom used to tell him many of the Gaelic fearsome fables when he was being a mischievous child to try and set him straight and he had definitely succeeded with his intent of putting the fear of god into Megan. "Ok look Megs, the Bean Nighe is just scary Scottish folklore just like we have scary legends here. It's not real and I think that what you read triggered the dream, so...in a way, it was a good thing because it helped you to remember that Elizabeth was probably the woman you heard, although I don't condone Gerry's stunt of scaring you to death."

"A good thing??!" she snapped and cried harder. "It's an omen. A sign, just like you yourself believe in so much! You know what else it said?? The Bean Nighe means washer woman. She would wash the blood out of clothes of those about to die! Did you not just tell me only hours ago about the red water that you and others you care about are all seeing???? And I told you I did too before I was attacked so tell me again how it's NOT real!! Bad things are going to happen Joey!"

Josie embraced her sobbing sister, her eyes now wide and wary. "You didn't die though and you're not going to because...because someone is helping us."

Megan sniffled and leaned back, gazing at her sister with befuddled eyes soaked in smeared mascara. Grabbing a tissue, Josie handed it to her. "You're ruining your makeup. Now, stop crying and listen to what I am about to tell you. Since you believe in all of this, then I know you'll believe this too but this stays between us. Dave wasn't too happy when I outed him to Landy about his...secret ability."

Megan tilted her head, brow arched. "Huh?"

Josie then proceeded to tell Megan about David's gift of seeing and speaking to the dead and how Lee's late son was the one who guided him to find her in the tunnels.

"Oh my god so...he's like a real life ghost whisperer?? Bitchin!"

Josie chuckled. "Yeah but he hates that term. Makes him feel like he's a freak. Anyways...Megan, Lee has seen Jacob too. He shares the same gift. I don't know how or why but he does. I can't see or hear him but I've been in that house when Jake has made his presence known. It's quite the phenomenon, let me tell ya."

"Awww, that poor sweet little boy. No wonder he hasn't crossed over yet. It's the unfinished business thing. I wish I could thank him for helping me. I owe him so much."

Josie desperately wanted to tell her that like her, she was that sweet little boy's aunt but it would all be too much at the moment and it would also reveal that Jason was alive considering he was the one who told her and Josie knew that a secret like that, Megan would not be able to keep.

"Well, thank him in private. Keep your lips sealed ok? Anyways, speaking of Dave and Landy, I'm going to go see if they're working today. The guard's right outside and mom will be back soon, probably with Gerry so he can question you. Don't worry about him and his spooky stories. You can bet your ass she'll keep him in line and so will I."

"Ok...I guess." she softly peeped, forcing a light smile. "Oh and Dave and Orlando are here. They come to check on me and mom from time to time and they were here early this morning."

As she headed out, Josie's heart smiled knowing the good doctors were taking time out of their hectic schedules to look out for her family and now she wanted to make sure her loyal friends were doing alright since she seemed to have lost her childhood friend Emily for not being around much.

After shooting a quick text to both physicians during a bathroom break, Landy was the first to respond.

"Hey beautiful. In the cafeteria on break. Can't wait to see you."

"Be there in a few :)"

Orlando's lunch buddy and fellow colleague lifted a curious brow. "What's got you so chipper with that cheeky smile? You never smile when you're here."

"Because this place sucks the life out of me."

"I hear ya on that bro. I'm working a double. So do tell, who's the one that breathed the life back into you just now? Would it happen to be a woman? I'd be careful there. They'll suck the life out of you too and I don't mean from your lollipop with the surprise cream center."

"And I hear ya on that bro." Orlando agreed with a chuckle and a mouth full of what appeared to be meatloaf, then he promptly stood when he saw the woman he was agreeing about. "Gotta go. There she is now."

"How goes it girl??" he raved as he snapped his food tray onto a table and scooped her up, giving the squealing blonde a quick spin around, then a sweet kiss on the cheek.

Giggling, Josie sat down. "Well, not as good as you seem to be, but it's going."

Orlando sat down and gave a cheesy grin as he popped a few grapes in his mouth. "Well, that's what you do, light up a dark room when you walk in. Let me guess. Lee?"

Josie's smile faded. "He left me."

Orlando's chomping chews halted and he forced a hard swallow. "What?"

Her eyes burned of tears but she held them in. "7 A.M. this morning. I guess he's still not talking to you since you didn't know?"

"I haven't heard from him since he sent me that unwarranted text saying she's all yours."

"He was drunk, as if that's any consolation but I didn't come here to talk about Lee. How are you doing? Like really doing. Any problems from your dad errr sorry...I mean Luke Sr?"

"Not a peep from him or anyone related to me. Mum, Sam and Jimmy went back home and my brother Luke, as usual and as if I really care, is MIA and I, as usual, am all alone."

Josie smiled and slid her hand across the table, clutching his. "You got me. I know I've been stuck in my own little world lately but I'm still here if you need me. You've certainly been here for me."

"Well I certainly owe you after you stuck your neck out for me the night Ethan attacked me AND the night I stupidly went after my fath...Luke...with that hammer, oh and how could I ever forget you saved my life when the other asshole Luke almost killed me."

"You owe me nothing. That's what friends are for Landy. You tried to protect me from Ethan too and you took one hell of a sucker punch for me from Lee as well. It's just that, Britt and Jason are gone, god knows where, Lee gave up on me, Craig probably too which is my fault but I'm sure it makes you happy and then there's Em who hates me right now. I just don't want to lose you too."

His hand squeezed hers and his other hand reached up to stroke her cheek. "Never. I'm not going anywhere Jo. As far as Cujo Craig, yeah there's no love loss there. Can't stand the dude but it does not make me happy to see you hurting. I'm sorry for whatever happened between you both and I'm here if you want to talk about it or Lee or anything else. Always. So who's this Em you mentioned?"

"My friend from Ireland. She was at Jason's funeral reception at mom's remember?"

His lips puckered in thought. "Oh yeah, the cute little brunette with the accent."

"That would be the one but don't let the cuteness fool you. She can be quite the conniving cunt."

The British doc chuckled. "Bloody hell. May I ask why you are friends with her then?"

"Because I forgave her for something really bad that wasn't entirely her fault. God, I haven't spoken about this in years."

Noticing Josie's disconcerting spirit, Orlando backed off. "Hey, whatever it is, you don't have to talk about it. We can talk about something el..."

"No, no. It's ok. I don't mind telling you because I know you won't say anything to anyone. It's a secret between me, Em and...my dad that I've kept because it just would have done more harm than good if you know what I mean? Actually, no good at all."

Orlando shifted in his seat during a delayed reply, his eyes breaking contact as he thought of what his dad had done to him in his adolescent years. "Absolutely I do."

Josie stiffened up, eyes wide with instant regret. "Oh god, Landy, of course you do. How insensitive of me. I'm so sorry. I wasn't thinking."

"No no no Jo, it's alright. I'm ok. Promise." he claimed with a smile. "Please...go on. I'm all ears and my lips will remain forever sealed. Fire away love."

She released a deep, remorseful sigh and then submitted to his polite demand in hopes of distracting his thoughts away from the personal hell she had just unintentionally sent him whirling back to. "Ok well...it was Christmas time, 10 years ago. Her dad had recently passed by taking his own life because her mother left him for another man. Em don't have any siblings either so she was left all alone for the holidays. I invited her to come spend Christmas with us, all expenses paid to help her out. I missed her and felt so bad for her so I thought it would do us both some good since we hadn't seen each other since our early teens, well except through video chat but anyways. It wasn't exactly a festive time for our family either. My mom and dad were having marital troubles and were discreetly avoiding each other due to my father finding out about her affair and that my brother Bo wasn't his son. Mom stayed mostly in the kitchen with Megan and my aunt Olivia, mom's youngest sister, cooking and sipping her Irish whiskey. Jason had just been sucked into Sonny's underground lair of crime so he wasn't there and since Bo was a cop, he used the excuse of short staffing to not be present but we all knew he was avoiding the drama. I understood though. His entire world had just been turned upside down, SO, it was just me, Em and my dad hanging out.

After a silent and awkward dinner and a small gift exchange, mom went to lay down. The rest of us were playing games and going pretty heavy on the wine. Em decided to play the piano for awhile while me, Megan and Olivia were engrossed in a game of UNO and that's when I first noticed something with my dad when I watched him walk away. He went over to her, glancing into the hall as if he were making sure no one was there and then he propped his arm on top of the piano to listen to the song. The way he smiled and blushed, it just felt off to me, especially when I then saw the way he looked at her. First her face, then his eyes traveled down her body.

I told myself I was surely mistaken in what I was witnessing, that dad was just flushed because of all the wine and he was so smiley because he was tipsy and that he was just enjoying the music because Em played so well. He must have been looking at her fingers dance along the keys and not her body right?? That's what I convinced myself of, I mean, he was in his late 50's and Em was my age, early 20's but deep down I knew that age has never stopped attraction.

UGH so...as the night went on, we must have went through at least a dozen bottles of wine between all five of us. Needless to say, we were all quite inebriated and began dancing and singing on Megan's Karaoke machine. At some point, Em had to use the bathroom and a few moments later, I noticed Dad was missing. That off feeling came rushing back so I snuck off to see where he went. That's when I saw her in his arms, crying her eyes out.

Normally, I would have thought he was just comforting her because of her loss until I saw him turn his mouth to her ear and kiss it. Then he said "I'm here for you Emily." Their hug was body pressing and longer than it should have been and my dad's hand was stroking her back in a seductive way and THEN...she told him he smelled and felt so good and he said the same fucking thing back to her. I don't know what happened next because Megan was shouting my name and I panicked and ran back. I was shaking and furious and decided I was just going to keep drinking and keep quiet because I didn't want to start something and wake mom up.

Anyways, the reason Megan was calling for me was because we were out of wine and at that point, I was desperate to find more. Megan was too so she spilled a secret and told me she forgot that she had stashed a few bottles in her closet to drink when she would sneak a guy in. She got up to go get it and fell right back on her butt and broke her wine glass, cutting her finger. After some time of me and Olivia cleaning her up in the kitchen, I went to get the wine so I could spy on my own father once more. He and Em were still not in the living room where we had been and they weren't where I had last seen them. That's when I noticed the bathroom light on under the closed door. When I crept up to it, I....I heard soft moans and panting and then, the toilet flushed to drown out the sound of their...you know...but I was close enough to hear.

I panicked again and bolted up the stairs and hid in Megan's room until I could pull myself out of my state of absolute and utter shock."

Orlando's chocolate eyes were wide and his mouth wider as he sat in momentary silence before relaying his thoughts. "I can imagine that right now, I look just as you did? This girl, your friend of all those years...actually slept with your married father???"

"Yep...and right under our noses and mom's to boot. And the fact that he even did it...I still can't fathom it. Nothing like a drunken quickie in the bathroom! I get that mom betrayed him but what he did was so extreme. I'm sure he felt he was justified but not me."

"So, what did you do? You said you kept it a secret so I assume your mom or anyone else found out?"

"Well, when I came down the stairs with the wine, dad, with his jacket now off and a sweaty face, was coming through the hall with more wine glasses. He asked me if mom was awake and I was just so mad that I said nothing. I just shrugged my shoulders and rushed past him to avoid conversation and having to look him in the eyes or he would have known that I knew.

So no, I never told anyone...but I sure as shit told Emily the next morning that I knew and told her to get the fuck out. She flew back to Ireland and it was a couple years before we reconnected. Forget and forgive right? Wrong. I'll never forget it. Honestly, I'm not sure if I've even forgiven her because I still feel so angry about it. How could she do that to my mother?? or to me??"

"I completely understand that. What about your dad though? Did you forgive him?"

"In time, yes. I mean, he's my dad and I could tell he regretted it the next day when he was sober where is, I don't feel Em did. When I had confronted her about it, she got pissy and defensive as if she had done nothing wrong, claiming she and my dad were both consenting adults and could do as they pleased. She even had the audacity to admit she had been fucking him the entire week she had been there before Christmas and that's when I socked her hard and good. She left with a split, fat lip and that was that."

"Damn, she really IS a bloody cunt. So...you eventually made up years later and you said that she hates you now? What happened this time, if...I may ask?"

"She's pissed that I haven't been to skating class for the kids, leaving her to do it and she needed a break, which that part is true but then she asked me to cover for her tomorrow so she could go shopping all day for some party later that night. Tomorrow's the 25th. It's Lee's birthday. My mind just isn't there to be on the ice right now so I told her no and to just cancel the class. She then proceeded to tell me who the guy was that she was going out with which I know she told me on purpose to piss me off. It's a guy named Johnny and he's mob. I know him and he's only using her to get under my skin. He's not a good guy and I made my thoughts about it known to her more than once about him. To paraphrase the rest, she called me a hypocrite because of Jason and Craig, oh and also a jealous bitch, then she hung up."

"With all due respect Josie, mob is mob. None of them are good."

"Well, respectfully to you also, we will just have to agree to disagree. I know your feelings towards Craig but he and my brother are different. Alright, I have rambled long enough and probably wasted your entire lunch break. One last thing though. I wanted to also thank you for looking in on my mom and sister. It means a lot."

Orlando took her hand once more, his fingers softly fondling hers as he smiled. "You are very welcome and never a waste of my time...you know I said what I said because I care about you right? I just don't want to see you get hurt or I feel I'm going to have to dig my hammer back out."

"No you're not." she ordered with narrowed eyes and pulled her hand away. "I don't want you involved AT ALL ok? I care for you too and don't want you to get hurt either Landy."

"Well I kind of am involved Jo. Look who my brothers are. Alright I'll drop this. So, I hear you and Megan have reconciled? She was quite happy to tell me that."

"It's a work in progress but yeah, I think we're getting there. At least she's genuinely remorseful. Crazy how bad shit brings people closer together. She's having some memories too, of what happened. Nothing too concrete but could you maybe keep an extra eye out for who goes around her room? She swears she saw a man in the hall that she believes was her attacker the same night I was here in the ER. He was wearing a suit, shiny shoes and strong cologne, had a strong accent too but not foreign. She just couldn't see his face. It was too dark."

"Sure will but you do know you just described half the men I see on a daily basis."

Josie scoffed. "Ugh not you too."

"Huh?"

"Nothing, it's just that Gerry and Craig already told me the same thing and..."

"You know...the night you were here...that's what your Kiwi K9 was wearing and he wasn't with you the entire ti...."

"Stop." Josie huffed, lips pursed as she thought to herself once again...not you too. Her gnawing guilt over accusing Craig of being the shadow man had her bound and determined to defend him. "I know you're hell bent on finding some kind of fault in Craig because you don't like him but it wasn't him. He has no reason to hurt Megan and I just said the man's accent wasn't foreign. It is most likely someone in or from the Boston area and Gerry, who is a cop remember? He agrees with me."

"Sorry but it's not hard to find fault in someone like him. It amazes me how he has you wrapped around his dirty little finger. Just why is that?"

"I'm not sure if what you're implying but I'm not going to argue with you about this. I can't. I have no fight left in me right now after the morning I had. You said you would stop, so please stop Landy."

Noticing a slight whimper in her voice and trembling of her body as she softly pleaded in defeat, Orlando was overcome with self-reproach. "If it will make you feel better, just slap me because I deserve it for being an asshole yet once again. I'm sorry, truly. What can I do to make you feel better?"

"You can tell me you haven't seen any red water lately?"

Orlando's brows furrowed at the peculiar question. "Umm Red....water? Is that..some new movie?"

"I really wish it was but no. Like, actual red water Landy. Out of the tap or shower?"

"Oh you mean like rusty water. Not that I can recall. Why?"

"Because..." she began but then her phone beeped. "Sorry, let me check this. It might be mom or Megan." Or Lee, she silently hoped, but it wasn't. It was Dave.

"Hey, where are you? I need to see you ASAP!"

"Weird. I was actually looking for u too. I'm here at the hospital. Where are u? I'll come now."

"Doctor lounge. Hurry."

"So sorry Landy. I need to go."

As Josie stood, Orlando stood too and she kissed his cheek before rushing off. "Let's meet up sometime soon ok? Lunch or something. Text me, especially if you see red water. See ya later!"

His brow arched and his cheeks puffed out as he released a hard sigh and dumped the rest of his food in the trash. "Alrighty then. Back to work Landy."

After racing up two flights of stairs, she came to the small and private lounge where staff could take a break in some peace and quiet. Upon peeking inside, there sat her tall, dark and handsome blue-eyed bff in his white doctor coat with a coffee and muffin before him.

"Hey you. " she panted as she wriggled out of her jacket, then sat down with a smile, offering a sweet touch of endearment by laying her hand upon his flawless face. "You ok? What's so urgent?"

Smitten by her touch, Dave gave a shy smile and complimented her in his soft voice. "Hey beautiful. "I'm ok but...I don't know if you will be when I tell you something."

She slowly lowered her hand, her smile fading. "W..what is it?"

"Josie...Peter was just brought in to the ER and has been admitted."

"You...you mean he's still alive?? Again???"

"Unfortunately, yeah. That was my exact thoughts too. The wastrel certainly appears to have nine lives. Let's hope he used them all up this time."

"So what happened to him? Shanked?" she asked with a sarcastic giggle.

"No actually. They're doing tests and labs but my guess is he was poisoned based on his condition. He's been intubated and has lapsed into a coma."

"The strangler." she whispered as her eyes drifted off.

"The what?"

"It's an appellation for a common poison in the underworld inspired by Game of Thrones when that little prick King Joffrey was poisoned. Jason told me about it before. It causes the neck muscles to clench so tightly that the person asphyxiates. I'm actually surprised the louse made it this long. Peter has as many haters as Nickelback does. If only he had died the day you pushed him down the stairs and put him in that ice chest."

Dave's eyes bulged as he rushed to shut the door. "Shhhhh!!! Don't say that out loud around here...or anywhere for that matter! Anyone could have been walking by. No one can ever know about that Josie. It's our secret that we take to the grave remember??"

"Relax David jeesh. I didn't say it that loud. No one knows. Not even Peter. He don't remember or he surely would have mentioned it when I went to visit him."

"Unless he was just toying with you and plotting some of his sick and twisted reven....wait, you what??? You went to visit him??? WHEN?"

"A few days ago." she squeaked with worry because Dave was such a reserved guy and hen he got angry, people knew it.

"And NOW he ends up here??? Possibly poisoned by this strangler potion that you know ALL about because of your connections with the fucking mob!! And why would you even go visit him?? It only leads his demented mind on for one thing and..."

"You know, it's a good thing you shut the door! Calm down already before you have a fucking stroke."

"Oh this IS fucking calm miss condescending. Stop dismissing me and my questions."

"You're swearing at me! That's not calm and that's not you!"

"What, because I dropped the F bomb that your pretty little mouth spews like a fucking sailor?"

"Oh my god Dave, are we really fighting over Peter???"

"We ARE. What if your presence after all this time would have triggered his memory, if he don't already know that is? Megan told me she's remembering things. It happens Josie. Memory loss isn't always permanent. Sights, sounds, smells, anything can trigger it! What if he miraculously lives and rats us out? You were there too ya know? Aiding and abetting me."

"I kind of had no choice when I found you at the top of the stairs and him in a pool of blood at the bottom with no pulse! Why did you have to follow him up to the roof of the hospital??"

"I kind of had no choice either! You know all of this Josie! It was the day you were finally being released after he had shot you, which he got away with since the bullet was meant for his father to save you, and I came to your room to take you home and you were gone. The nurse told me you already left. I called you and I heard your phone ringing on the night table so when I went looking for you, I saw Peter sneaking into the stairwell that led up to the roof so of COURSE I followed him, thinking he had you."

"Well he didn't. The nurse was mistaken because I went to Britt's office to say goodbye but you should have called the cops if that's what you believed! I came back to get my phone and then you never showed up so I called you and got no answer! I asked around and finally a nurse told me she saw you take the stairs only moments ago and when I neared the floor where your office was, I heard the commotion above me and THAT'S when I came up and found you both!!"

In a brief silence from exhaustion, the memory of Peter's tumble flashed before both of their eyes as they stared at each other.

Dave's voice softened as he resumed the conversation. "If I hadn't followed him and if he DID have you with him, you'd be gone right now, lost on some other continent in one of his many hideaways. He had a helicopter circling far above to land at his command. You were supposed to be with him. Going to see my sister who's unfortunately his too is most likely what saved you because he didn't know where you were. I was just so angry Josie. That's why I confronted him and we briefly argued on the roof. When he realized he was busted, he took off so I followed him to the stairs and grabbed him. We scuffled and that's when it happened. I just couldn't let him hurt you again but he did when he kidnapped you a few months later and locked you in that morgue drawer. Clearly, he wasn't dead. His pulse was too weak for you to feel but he should have died from lack of air in that old freezer chest we put him inside in the abandoned area of the hospital basement. The thing had cobwebs on it. He wouldn't have been found for possibly years but he must have became conscious shortly after we left him. I'm sorry for losing my shit. I really am. You know how I feel about you Josie and I would do it all over again to keep you safe."

With a single sniffle, he stood and walked to the window, his blue hues icy from the tear glaze they basted in as he watched Josie's reflection in the window appear behind him. "Hey, come here."

She took his arm, turned him around and embraced him. "I'm sorry too. We're both just worked up over the fact he cheated death once more and now all we can do is hope that the grim reaper makes an appearance. You risked everything for me and I love you for it."

Dave closed his eyes, pained by knowing her love wasn't the kind he had always longed for from her.

She released him with a smile. "Let's not fight ok? If he lives and if he remembers, I highly doubt he could prove it. There's no witnesses for one thing and for another thing, Gerry would have my back if he did. I should have told him in the first place but it wasn't just my life at stake, it was yours too. Either way, we can't let him win. Not anymore. Thank you for telling me he was here. I'm going to go see if Gerry knows yet."

As she put her jacket back on, Dave gently clasped her wrist. "Promise me you won't go near Peter."

"How could I? There's surely a guard outside of his room."

"That's not an answer Josie."

"Ok fine, fine jeesh. I won't go near him."

As she left, Dave sat back down and swigged back his cold brew, then leered back at the door. "Like hell you won't."

Walking through the halls, Josie appeared calm on the outside but inside she was raging like she never had before which even she knew caused her to make poor decisions.

As her irrational thoughts came to a devious conclusion, she briefly paused her steps and then walked right past the hall that led to Gerry's location.

After Lee had completed some small carpentry projects, he took a shower and used the next 4 hours before his shift to sleep. It only took seconds for him to drift off and soon, he found himself in a dreamworld he didn't want to wake from.

Muffled music played.

"The first time ever I saw your face, thought the sun rose in your eyes and the moon and the stars were the gifts you gave to the dark and the endless skies, my love."

A crowd of nameless faces circled about the large tent adorned with crystal chandeliers and strings of glowing globes as they watched Lee take his new bride in his arms for for their first dance as husband and wife. He held his Jo so close, kissing her forehead as they slowly swayed to the song that they had first danced to while falling in love.

It was a picture perfect moment. All was finally as it was written in the stars when Jacob appeared, dressed like his father. "Hi Daddy. Hi Mommy."

Lee scooped him up in one arm and wrapped his other around Jo and the happily united family continued to dance as Mr. Pace kissed Mrs. Pace.

"And the first time ever I kissed your mouth, I felt the earth move in my hand like the trembling heart of a captive bird that was there at my command, my love."

As Jacob dozed off on his daddy's shoulder, he smiled.

"Daddy?" Jacob mumbled.

"What is it monkey?"

"Did you her that?"

Lee's brows furrowed as he looked around. "Hear what Jake?"

"Don't push the red button Daddy."

A powerful pop startled Lee from his sleep. "Jake??"

When his eyes began to focus, Lee noticed that 2 hours had passed, yet the dream seemed like only seconds. He also noticed his almost full can of watermelon Red Bull laid in a puddle of red liquid on the wooden floor beside his bed. Assuming he had knocked it off in his sleep and that that was the noise he had heard, Lee sat up and as he played the very lucid dream back in his mind, he slid from the bed to his knees and sobbed.

@redeemer46

[psychedelic-ink]

𝐑𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝 - 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐅𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐈𝐎𝐀𝐃𝐊

Pairing: FEDRA!Javier Peña x firefly!reader

Genre: slice of life, smut, romance, angst, enemies to reluctant friends to lovers, TLOU AU, minors dni

Summary: Javier, a former member of the Federal Disaster Response Agency in Kansas City, is haunted by the guilt and violence he indirectly caused by not taking action when he should have. After fleeing Kansas City in the aftermath of Kathleen's violent overthrow of FEDRA, you and Javier seek refuge in an abandoned train in the middle of a forest.

As you and Javier turn the train into a living space and learn to navigate the dangers of a post-apocalyptic world, you gradually overcome your differences and form an unlikely bond. But when your pasts catch up with you, you must confront the demons that haunt you and make a choice that could mean the difference between life and death. Will you choose to protect each other and find a way to build a new life together, or will the ghosts of your pasts tear you apart?

word count: 4.3k

chapter summary: new dynamics, new outlooks. the story comes to an end.

warnings: cock worship, oral (male receiving), ass play, anal sex, spit as lube, dirty talking

a/n: this is the last chapter of this series but there will be an epilogue coming very very soon. thank you to everyone who joined me on this journey and I hope you enjoyed this story as much as I enjoyed writing it xx

Railhead - The end of a railroad line where trains can be loaded and unloaded, often in a remote location.

You’re proud, to say the least. Looking back at the train, your chest swells with indescribable emotion. The outside might look rusty and dusty—something Javier was adamant about so no one would want to come take a closer look—but the inside was where your efforts truly shined. Through the windows, you catch a glimpse of the plants you potted in old cans you cut into two and one semi-intact clay pot. A fence surrounds the train, booby-trapped just in case someone lurks nearby.

Javier comes out and stands next to you, he’s chewing on a long-stemmed dandelion. His signature aviators nestled above his head. 

“We fucking did it. An actual living place,” his shoulders raise slightly, the corner of his lips twitching into a smile. “I can’t believe we actually did it without killing each other.” 

You roll your eyes and come to stand in front of him. His eyes drop to your lips, then smoothly travel back up to meet your gaze. You smile playfully as you quickly pluck the dandelion from his lips, closing the distance, you slant your lips together. As always, he’s hungry. He cups your waist and pulls you flush against his body, slipping his tongue between your wanting lips. You groan loudly, your stomach doing somersaults as he tilts his head and deepens the kiss. Every part of you is humming with delight. 

But then Javier suddenly parts, and you’re left aching. 

“Hey—” 

“I got a surprise for you.”  

You blink before answering, “A surprise?” 

“Si,” he chirps quickly, brown eyes shining. He holds your hand and pulls you towards the entrance of the train. “Follow me, querida. I’m sure you’re going to appreciate it.” 

“Hmmm we’ll see.” Javier sits you on the tattered couch and disappears into the makeshift bedroom—your shared bedroom. “How did you even manage to get me something?” you call out. “We literally go everywhere together.” 

“I have my ways.” then he adds. “It’s handmade.” 

Handmade? 

He appears from the narrow threshold, he’s holding a small box, “Here,” he says, placing it on your lap. “Maybe you’ll complain less thanks to this.” 

“Charming as always.” 

You carefully lift the lid, a pair of intricately crafted insoles catches your eye. Javier watches you intently, his full attention making your heart stutter. The insoles, are fashioned from what seems to be a combination of salvaged leather and repurposed fabric.

“I—Insoles?” you gasp, tears prick the corner of your eyes. You lift your gaze and your brows furrow as you meet his. “I don’t remember mentioning I had shitty insoles.” 

“You didn’t have to.” 

The edges are neatly stitched with a weathered thread, showcasing the craftsmanship that went into it. You notice the tiny details, like irregular patterns and faded hues, hint at a past life.  

Javier grins, leaning in as you inspect your gift. "I found an old leather jacket and some sturdy fabric in one of the abandoned buildings. Thought it might make your life a bit comfier. And hopefully—it’ll make my ears hurt less."

“Don’t ruin the moment, Javi.” 

“I don’t want you crying. I can’t handle you crying.” 

“Aw, big scary Fedra soldier afraid of some happy tears?” 

“Didn’t say I was afraid,” his lips touch your forehead, you lean into the heat of them as he takes a seat next to you. “I just don’t enjoy being the person who put them there.” 

“You do know what happy means right?” 

He waves a hand, “Tears are tears, perla. I’d rather see you smile and laugh.” 

Looking back down, you run your fingers over the textured surface. It’s soft, resilient. The insoles seem to mold to the contours of your hands, promising a snug fit when placed inside your old boots. The scent of worn leather and a hint of dust lingers.

"Try them on," Javier urges, his eyes gleaming with eagerness. He nudges you slightly with his shoulder. 

“Alright alright. Just give me a second.” 

You slip the handmade insoles into your shoes, a surprisingly pleasant sensation envelops your feet. You sigh pleasantly and your eyelids flutter. 

“That good, huh?” 

“Oh, shut up.” 

Javier watches your reaction closely, "So, what do you think?"

"Handmade indeed," you muse, a soft smile breaking across your face. "You always find a way to make things special," quickly, you lean in, your kiss taking him by surprise. “Thank you, Javier.” 

He holds you by the hip, hands gradually moving lower to your backside. A shudder runs up your spine, your breathing becoming short-paced. 

“Say my name again.” 

“Javier,” you repeat, a bit more breathily this time. He stands up, the sudden movement making your head spin. He’s not touching you anymore. Instead, he’s just staring at you, his eyes like charcoal. 

“Again.” 

“Javier.” 

His hand finds its way to the back of your neck, he pushes you towards him, close enough that you feel the warmth of his breath on your lips. You inhale sharply. 

“Where do you want me to fuck you?” he asks. “The couch or the bed?” 

“B—Bed,” you stutter. When he clicks his tongue with disapproval, you say, “I want you to fuck me on the bed, Javier.” 

“That’s my good little troublemaker. My sweet thorn.” Before releasing you, he keeps you still, his fingers digging into your neck. “Before I fuck you,” he groans. “I want you to suck my cock, baby. I want you to get it nice and wet, want you to fucking worship it. Understood?” 

You nod in a daze. Javier smiles, a bit of softness showing in his irises. His hand dropping from your neck, he kneads the plump flesh of your ass. “Then I’m going to worship this gorgeous ass. Does that sound fair to you?” 

You swallow thickly, not sure what to say when your head is swimming in deep arousal. 

“Yes,” you whimper. “That sounds fair.” 

The way to the ‘bedroom’ is a blur of quick kisses and rapid stripping; some part of you doesn’t want to remove your boots, you want to continue to appreciate the insoles he made for you, but sadly, you end up kicking them off. 

“Lay down,” you say, taking back some of the control. While Javier pulls down his pants, you suck the skin above his collarbone, tracing the bone underneath with your tongue. A soft whimper reverberates in his throat, dragging your lips up, you kiss his bobbing Adam’s apple. “I haven’t even begun worshipping your cock and you’re already a mess?” You palm his erection, grinning at the way it twitches in your palm. “Are you going to come as soon as I wrap my lips around you, Javier?” 

He grunts and grips your wrist, “Don’t start a war you can’t finish.” 

You know the words are meant to be a lighthearted tease, but they affect you more than you anticipate. You look down at his scar, almost ashamed at the cruel past that ended up binding you two together. 

He must’ve felt it because he lifts your chin, forcing your gaze back to him, “We’re not in a battle anymore,” he reminds you. “There are no wars. And even if there were any, I have no intention of joining when I’m desperately in love with you.” 

Love. 

He’s in love? 

With you? 

“I want to witness the beauty the world still has to offer. . . with you.” 

Your eyes go wide, your pulse skyrocketing in your veins. Your chest heaves. Love. A feeling so foreign that you thought you’d never be on the receiving end. Love. An emotion so complex that sometimes it felt you were the only one capable of it. Love. The emotion Javier feels for you. 

Love. The emotion you feel for Javier. 

You don’t say it—mostly because you’ll get choked up if you do—but you do kiss him with every bit of emotion you feel towards him. You breathe him in. Inhale him. You feel his lashes on your skin as he closes his eyes, feel the thud of his heart against your own chest. 

Love. 

What an amazing thing it was. 

And a cruel thing you were only able to find after the world ended. 

“Get on the bed,” you say, softer this time. Javier complies, the bed creaking in protest at his weight. You strip down completely. Your underwear and bra left on the floor. You want to be bare. You want to be safe. And you are safe, with him you’ll always be. 

“I love this pretty cock,” you mutter, kissing the side. The muscle in Javier’s jaw tenses, his teeth coming together. You lick up to the tip and wrap your lips around the head, swirling your tongue around the ridge. Before he can get comfortable, you drag your lips back down, following the vein that throbs violently under your soft flesh, you take one of his testicles into your mouth. You suck on it slowly and release it, blowing a bit of air over the spit-slicked skin. 

“Fuck,” he growls, hips jerking. “Fuck fuck fuck—That’s it baby, that’s it. . . Shit—” 

Javier’s head falls back, his dark locks a mess above the white-ish pillowcase. You dip your tongue between the crease of them and flattening your tongue, you lick the underside of his cock. His breath comes in short, fast pants. You take him into your mouth, sucking him halfway until the tip touches the back of your throat. You feel your nipples tightening, your pussy soaked from pleasuring him. Javier cradles the back of your head for dear life, thrusting into your mouth with shallow thrusts. You let him. You’d let him ruin you, you’d let him tear you apart and stick you together again. 

A series of moans and groans drop from his lips. Saliva trickles down his length, going down his thighs. Moaning around him, you grip the meat of his legs and push yourself down. He sinks into your throat desperately, his breath hitching when your throat convulses around him. 

“Fuck,” he breathes, pushing you off his cock. “I don’t want to come yet but your mouth is too damn tempting.” You look up to him with a grin, he reaches towards you, thumb pulling at your bottom lip. “Next time I’ll fuck this pretty mouth so well you won’t be smiling about it.”

“I’ll hold you up to that, you know.” 

“Good.” 

Javier pulls the pillow under you while he guides you to all fours. Suddenly you’re feeling too exposed with your ass in the air. You chew the inside of your cheek and look down at the sheets. He flattens his palm above your spine, his hand moving all the way down, he stands on his knees right behind you, his cock wet and heavy above the swell of your ass. 

“Just say the word and we’ll stop.” 

“No, I. . . I want it, I’m just nervous because I’ve never actually. . .” you trail off, your cheeks flaring at the thought of speaking openly—which is hilarious when you think about it because this man has literally seen the worst of you. “I’ll tell you if I need to stop. Promise.”

Javier seems satisfied by your answer and playfully slaps your ass. You imagine him smiling, stoked to have you in a way that no one else has. He parts your cheeks, you hear the sound of his mouth as a string of saliva drips right onto your hole, Javier hums, and with a thumb, he smears it over. Your breath hitches. He hasn’t even done much, yet you’re already dizzy with the vicious way your heart beats in your chest. 

Javier spits again, a pleasurable shudder crawls up your spine. Your nipples tighten. Goosebumps rising across your skin. He slowly pushes in a finger, he stops shortly after, examining the way your back tenses at the pressure. With his other hand, he caresses your spine. It’s soothing and you relax into his touch. 

“Wish we had lube,” he murmurs. You hear the rustle of sheets as he moves. “But hopefully this’ll be enough to loosen you up, querida.” 

His lips are nothing short of sin. You groan at the touch of his tongue, the velvet muscle swirling around you. He groans at your taste, pulls you closer by gripping your waist. You go willingly. Gathering spit in his mouth, he pushes, your body jolts as he wiggles his tongue inside. 

His hand moves down to your clit, rubbing slow circles over the swollen nub. You feel your arousal growing, your body responding to his touch. You moan and squirm, unable to control yourself. It’s too much but also not enough all at the same time. He kisses where he’s been fucking you with his tongue and presses the same finger inside. This time it slides in with ease but he stops half-knuckle deep. 

Your body tenses when he swipes over your clit again. 

“How are you feeling?” he asks, mouth moving over the plump flesh of your ass. 

"Amazing," you gasp, your body tingling with pleasure. 

He moves his hand away from your clit and you whimper at the loss of his touch. But before you can protest, you feel him pulling out. Slightly turning, you see him licking his fingers, getting them wet. His hair is a mess, his beard thicker now that time has passed. Your heart swells and your lashes flutter. A beat later, your eyes meet. Javier makes a show up sucking his fingers, smiling around them. 

“Are you enjoying the show?” he asks, pressing both fingers against your hole. 

Instead of words, a choked-out sound drops from your lips. Your head falls back, your body arching as he pushes them deep. 

"Relax, mi amor," he says, his voice gentle and reassuring. You wince at the stretch, but his spit makes it easier, and soon his fingers are sliding in and out of you, stretching you open. 

Javier leans over you, his body covering yours. You feel his hard length against your back, and you know that he's just as turned on as you are. His fingers begin to move faster, scissoring and curling inside of you. He moans with you, precome dripping down your back and onto the sheets. Your body begs for more and more and more—

"Please," you gasp, meeting the thrust of his fingers. "I need you inside me, Javier." 

“How can I ever say no when you beg so sweetly,” he rasps, chest heaving. “Mi dulce perla.” 

He pulls his fingers out of you and you feel a sudden emptiness. But it's quickly replaced as he lines himself up with you and slowly begins to push into you. You gasp as he stretches you wide, he stops mid-thrust, waiting for you to adjust. Slack-jawed, you feel sweat beading at your temple. Javier finds your clit again, playing with it until you’re a soaking mess over his fingers, your body squeezing him tight. A loud groan trembles within his chest and he rocks forward, his cock filling you completely.

“Fuck, you feel amazing,” he says, voice hoarse. “I could go on like this all day long—until the day I die.” 

You want to quip back at him, maybe mention that there’s no way he can go that long, but you lack the ability to form sentences. An elongated groan slips past your lips instead and you swear he smiles, without even looking you can sense the mischievous smile curling at his pretty, plush lips. 

Javier starts thrusting into you, slowly at first and then building up speed. His hands caress your body, over your back, and down your hips. You can hear the sound of his lower abdomen slapping against your ass, along with both your moans filling the air. His cock hits all the right spots inside of you, sending jolts of pleasure through your body. You grip the sheets, desperate for something to hold onto as he hammers into you, the wet sounds growing and growing with every move.

You feel a sudden intensity building within you, rising higher and higher with each thrust of Javier’s hips. He lets out a low growl, his grip on your hips tightening as he pounds into you harder. You can’t help but moan loudly You’re feeling overwhelmed but in the best way possible. 

Javier leans down and whispers into your ear, “You look so fucking sexy like this, taking my cock in your ass. You enjoy it don’t you—my sweet filthy girl.”

His words, along with his cock pounding into your tight hole, send you over the edge and you come with a loud cry, your entire body trembling. Your clit throbs as your cunt squeezes around nothing, pulsing viciously as your orgasm is ripped away. You clench around him and Javier’s movements become erratic. Suddenly, he stills, his body tensing as he reaches his peak. You feel him release inside of you, filling you up as he continues to thrust into you, prolonging his orgasm. Your eyes roll and your lids flutter, your own release washing over you as you come undone with him. He stays buried inside, both of you panting and catching your breath, until he finally pulls out. 

Javier collapses onto your back, his chest heaving as he catches his breath. You both lie there for a few moments, basking in the aftermath. He eventually pulls out of you and you move to lay on your side, feeling his spent trickling down the back of your thighs, you face each other.

He strokes your cheek gently, looking into your eyes with a tenderness that makes your heart flutter. “You were amazing, mi vida,” he says, still trying to catch his breath. 

You smile back at him, “So were you,” you reply, running your fingers through his hair. “Though sadly, I don’t think we can do that again for a while. I’m going to be feeling it for days.” 

Just as he opens his lips, a sudden chill settles over your sweat-slicked body and his eyes drop down to your naked body with worry. “Are you cold?” 

“A bit,” you admit unwillingly. You slightly stir, attempting to reach for the blanket. “Winter is finally coming, huh?” 

Javier leans in and kisses you softly, his lips moving against yours in a slow, loving dance. You feel a warmth spread through your body, then you feel it on the outside as he reaches down, grabbing the blanket for you.

“It is.” 

“Is there a reason we’re outside in the middle of the night?” you grumble, hugging yourself, you follow Javier’s footsteps. “It’s fucking freezing.” 

The crisp night clings to your skin, freezing everywhere it touches. You miss the heat of your shared bed, the heat of another body against yours. With narrowed eyes, you glare at the man who is not slowing his steps. Javier takes your hand into his own, forcing you to move faster. He’s been secretive ever since he woke you—and it was definitely not pleasurable to be waken up in the middle of the night, especially in this day and age. 

“Javierrrrr,” you whine, throwing your head back. “It’s cold. . .” 

“You’ll thank me, I promise.” 

“Fine. I trust you,” you chew on your bottom lip and smile. “But mainly because you made me new insoles.” 

He turns to you, eyes round and simply adorable, “Are they keeping you warm?” 

“They are.”

The two of you continue your journey through the night, and as you walk, Javier's hand remains firmly clasped around yours. The crunch of leaves beneath your feet echoes in the quiet darkness, a lullaby that once again makes you wish you were in bed instead.

After what feels like an eternity, Javier leads you to a small clearing. Your eyes go wide when you notice the soft silver beams cascading onto the patch of ground underneath The air is still, and the world seems to hold its breath, the only sound being the faint rustle of leaves. 

Your breath catches as you step into the open space, your hand slipping away from Javier’s. A field of flowers had bloomed in various shades, their slender stems standing proud. The delicate petals reflect the silvery light. They remind you of stars, their petals pointed instead of round like you’re accustomed to.

A gasp escapes your lips, and a radiant smile spreads across your face. Your head snaps to Javier, "What are these?" you ask. 

Javier's gaze shifts from the flowers to you, and in that moment, the world fades away. 

“I have no idea what they are,” he answers, finger moving over his bottom lip. “But they only bloom at night.” 

Your heart swells, “They’re beautiful. Thank you” 

He steps closer, his fingers gently tracing the curve of your cheek. "Don’t mention it,” he brushes your lips together, the warmth of his breath making your melt into the earth. “Besides, they’re pale compared to you.” 

“No need to charm me further,” you grin. “You already have me.” 

“Do I now?” 

“You do.” 

As you share a tender kiss, the first snowflake falls. Then another. The world quiets down, and as you pull away, you notice the first snowflakes gently falling around you. Breaking away you both look at each other, then up to the sky. 

It's here – winter has finally arrived.

Surprisingly, despite the cold, you've never felt warmer. In that simple kiss and under the falling snow, there's a magic that makes everything feel just right.

The day was warm, the sun bright. Small petals flew further away from the green grass, colorful flowers moving left and right with the soft caress of the wind. The grass tickled your bare ankles. You felt lucky to have found some regular shoes. If not you would have to wear your boots that made your feet feel like it was in a sauna. The lovely weather felt like a joke. It wasn’t the reality you lived in, just a mirage of the life before—though even then, it wasn’t quite perfect was it? 

Your grip tightened around the straps of your bag. If you listened close enough you could hear the clatter of all the guns you were meant to smuggle in. The FEDRA was cruel in Kansas City. It was like the boogeyman stories but real. 

You took a deep breath, your eyes scanning your surroundings one last time. It was like a spitting image of a Van Gogh painting. The world was still alive. It wasn’t infected, it didn’t know about the monsters that lurked on the surface.  

Turning around, you continued to walk uphill, your chest starting to ache from both the heat and the constant walking. 

Then you saw him. 

A FEDRA soldier. 

Your eyes momentarily went wide. He wasn’t looking at you, He was fidgeting, constantly looking around as if he was waiting for someone. Worry made a home in your gut. You didn’t think you had the strength in you to fight anyone off today. You just wanted to help the people and get rid of the weight of the guns. 

The vest he wore looked like it dug uncomfortably into his chest, his rifle slung over his back, and pistol snug on his hip. You wondered if he would use either one on you—

Your eyes locked on one another. 

Your breath halts in your chest, your heart ramming angrily and fearfully against its boney cage. 

He raised a sole eyebrow, eyes narrowing. He was assessing you, trying to see how much of a threat you were. 

“Who are you?” he asked and pulled out a cigarette pack from his back pocket. “You’ll get hurt if you wander around much, hermosa.” 

You swallowed, “I—I’m just walking by,” you paid careful attention to make your voice sound meek and frightened. You lifted both your hands in surrender. “Please don’t shoot.” 

He lit his cigarette and made no move toward his weapons. You eyed him nervously. FEDRA was not to be trusted. 

“That wasn’t my question.” 

“I just want a place to stay for the night. I was hoping to take refuge here for the night and leave first thing in the morning.” 

The soldier looked through his lashes and he shielded the tiny flame with his hand. When the cigarette finally came to life, he took a deep breath then looked up to the sky. 

“I really want to trust you. You have a kind face,” he said, sounding tired. “But your bag is making me doubt you.” 

You froze, “Please. You can trust me.”  

“And that’s all everyone needs during the end of times isn’t it?” he asked, not really wanting an answer. “Someone they can trust.” 

He lowered his gaze, looking back at you, he sighed. His gaze lingered on you for an uncomfortable long amount. Your feet were glued to the soil, heat blossoming all over your skin. He had a kind face too. In another life, you might’ve even fallen for eyes. 

The soldier suddenly blinked as if hitten by electricity, something he saw bothered him and you worried he saw right through you. Saw that you were a firefly, that you were carrying a shit ton of weapons. But he didn’t say anything. 

“Go.” 

“Go?” 

He looked away, “Go before I change my mind. I have someone I need to meet anyway.” 

So he was waiting for someone. Briefly, you wonder but quickly shrug the thoughts away. You had a mission.

You mumbled a thanks as you walked past him, your arms brushing in the process. As you left, you tried not to think about the electricity that circulated you, about the brown eyes and the tired look in them—

You tried not to fall for the possibility of a happy ending. Tried not to look for him when the chaos ensued, when Kathleen took over. 

You tried. 

And you failed. Miserably. 

[maccreadysbaby]

the secret keeper talked about Bentley being Robin and Tim being Batman in a different reality, and you showed us Bentley with a yellow and black robin suit looking at ducks Nightwing suit in a case and NEVER SPOKE ABOUT IT AGAIN???

WHERE IS BRUCE? WHAT HAPPENED TO DICK? CAN WE PLEASE GET A TASTE OF THIS REALITY??? PLEASE??? MAYBE WITH SOMETHING ANGSTY LIKE FEAR TOXIN OR POISON????

A Hundred Ways to Become a Wayne Drabbles

tw: general angst and violence? major character death

wanna read the extended fic? here’s the table of contents!

⚠️ THIS IS NOT PART OF BENTLEY’S CANON. THIS IS AN ALTERNATE REALITY MENTIONED BY THE SECRET KEEPER HERE.

SOMEONE WAS BREAKING INTO RED HOOD’S SAFEHOUSE.

It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence for light sounds to pry Jason out of his feeble endeavors to sleep. A dog barking in the distance, some wind, rain drops, a car passing by. It happened nightly, hourly, half-hourly — he hadn’t been able to sleep in weeks. (Since December fourth. Twenty-four days. Who’s counting?)

What was an uncommon occurrence, however, was the fact that the light sound that roused him this time was the window over his kitchen sink sliding open — it had a certain minuscule squeak the others didn’t have — and not a single alarm or booby trap activated. Not a single security measure was tripped, and Jason never, ever, ever forgot to arm them. Not since December fourth. 

He would’ve normally been less jittery, but life hadn’t been normal for twenty-four days. The bats didn’t know about this safehouse — Jason made quadruple sure of that. He wanted nothing to do with any of them and they wanted nothing to do with each other. Which meant that either they’d broken through his anti-tracking defenses, or someone else was breaking in.

And Jason’s anti-tracking was really good.

He wasted no time grabbing the key from his nightstand and unlocking the handcuffs that kept him attached to the bed. (That’s what he did on the nights when he couldn’t trust himself, or the pit, or his mind.) He slid out of bed and chambered the pistol he had on his nightstand, silently. His Red Hood suit was on the floor — having shed it earlier in favor of sweats and a t-shirt — and he might’ve had the decency to kick it under the bed if he cared enough.

He didn’t. Whoever was now inside his safehouse probably wouldn’t live long enough to see it, anyways.

Instead, he made for the bedroom door. He didn’t turn the lights on, because that would give away his location, so instead, he pulled the door open as slowly and quietly as he could.

There were sounds echoing down the dark hall; maybe shuffling? And then there were a few thumps. A thud against a wall.

Jason made it down the hallway and into the kitchen. His eyes hadn’t adjusted to the dark fully yet, but he could see a figure standing in the middle of his kitchen. Turning on the lights would blind him, but it would also blind them, and give him a jump. It was risky, but honestly, he hadn’t cared in twenty-four days.

He flicked the lights on.

A moment passed where he couldn’t see anything, but after that moment was over, he was greeted by an all-too-familiar black and yellow caped vigilante. He huffed deeply, his pistol staying trained straight at the head of the so-called intruder.

“What the hell are you doing here, Robin?”

“Bleeding on your floor, actually, thank you,” Bentley replied with a newly acquired bite to his voice — a bite and coldness and venom that had only been there since December fourth. 

Jason watched the kid lean over the countertop and close the window behind him. He had to have been — his birthday wasn’t that long ago — sixteen? Jason was pretty sure he was sixteen. He was sixteen and definitely bleeding. From what Jason could see, he had several small scrapes and bruises and cuts, primarily on his face, and one large gash across his torso that was leaking a spectacular amount of crimson. He was breathing heavily, like he’d been running, and was sweating almost profusely. His skin was about four shades too pale. He was moving slow — favoring his right leg — and his domino mask was off. The skin around his eyes was red, and the whites were bloodshot. So, either crying, a bad reaction to domino adhesive, or drugged. Jason wasn’t sure.

He was also… tall. Taller. Only a little. He couldn’t grow that much in twenty-four days, could he?

Bentley’s brown eyes traveled to the barrel of the gun. “Why are you still aiming that thing at me?”

With a huff of annoyance, Jason lowered the firearm. “How did you find me here?”

“Not dumb,” Bentley replied shortly, walking over to the fridge like it was his damn safehouse and opening it, leaving a bloody handprint there. He groaned dramatically. “Why do you only have butter and pickles? They’re not even in date.”

“How did you get through my security?”

“Again: not dumb,” He continued, closing Jason’s fridge and cringing at the handprint. He thumbed at it for a moment before giving up and limping himself toward the old wooden dining table, pulling out the chair at the head.

(If this kid got any more like Tim Drake, he and Jason were going to have problems.)

With a duh tone, the unhappy owner of the safehouse tossed his hands to the side and said: “Get out?”

Bentley glared over at him with an icy gaze, piercing. “Yeah, yeah, I just need a minute.”

Jason, fed up, put his gun on the kitchen counter with a clack. (There was blood on his sink and windowsill, now.) “You broke into my safehouse so you could complain about my fridge, bleed on my stuff, and leave?”

Bentley breathed out, too. “Look, I know you’re not in the mood for this, but frankly, neither am I. So let’s both just shut up and pretend we’re alone, yeah?”

Jason said nothing, but watched closely as Bentley tugged off his hood. 

The kid never got this injured — especially not with Tim dawning the cowl. He treated Robin like he was made of porcelain, and this, right here, was a very cracked chunk of porcelain.

Jason, with a huff, moved toward the (bloody) kitchen sink. “Tim doesn’t know you’re patrolling? That’s why you came here to bleed out instead of the cave?”

“What happened to shutting up?”

“Piss off, ginger. You broke into my safehouse,” Jason spat, moving quickly. He ducked under the kitchen sink and grabbed a large, white first aid kit he had there, tossing it onto the dining table with a bang that made Bentley jump. “Stop bleeding and get out.”

Bentley pulled his yellow gauntlets off and tossed them on the table next to the kit with two clacks, muttering something under his breath. 

“Why were you patrolling alone?” Jason questioned, taking up a spot leaning against the countertop across the room. After all, patrol had been nonexistent for the last twenty-four days apart from when Jason decided he needed a night out. It was very out of character for Bentley to go anyways. “I thought you were taking notes from the goodie-two-shoes Robin.”

Bentley glared at him from the table, hard.

“Got a lead on a drug deal,” He answered surprisingly honestly, popping open the first aid kit. “Thought I’d bust it. Y’know, instead of staying cooped up in my bedroom feeling sorry for myself like you. Like B. Like everybody.”

Jason’s eyes traveled down to Bentley’s bleeding gnash. “That obviously went well. Be out in ten. I’m going back to bed.”

Jason pushed himself off of the counter in an attempt to retreat.

“I can’t,” The kid muttered.

Jason turned back around with a dramatic sigh. “And why not?”

Bentley’s huffed deeply, bringing the heel of his hand up to wipe at his eyes, blinking rapidly a few times.

Jason persisted. “Why not?”

“I just need a few hours, okay? This place was closest,” He replied vaguely, pulling out a needle and thread. “Just go back to bed. I’ll be gone before you wake up.”

Jason didn’t move, but he leaned against the counter again, crossing his arms.

“Jason-“ Bentley’s annoyed groan was cut off when he, very suddenly, winced in pain, bringing his hand back up to his right eye and pressing into it with his heel.

“Kid?”

“Go to bed, Jason,”

Jason did not, in fact, go to bed. Actually, he stood right there and didn’t move. Just to be a pest.

Bentley glared at him again, hard, and the whites of his eyes were a little redder — his pupils dilated much larger than they had been when he arrived.

Drugged.

Jason scoffed. “Your eyes are telling me that the drug deal went reallygreat.”

“Go to bed, Jason,” Bentley repeated. He’d been trying to thread the needle but finally abandoned it, choosing instead to shove gauze and sutures over the gash that definitely needed stitches. 

(Jason pretended he didn’t hear the little, sort of desperate sounding please that came a moment after.)

“So you broke into my safehouse to complain, bleed, and ride out a high?” Jason questioned, snickering lightly. “I think I’d be honored under any other circumstances.”

“It was fear toxin. The new strand,”

The smirk promptly left Jason’s face.

The new fear toxin was some of the hardest hitting stuff Jason had ever experienced on the field. He was also the only one who’d experienced it on the field, hence probably why Bentley was there.

The stuff was like a horrifying, gut-wrenching acid trip that literally almost killed Jason for the seven hours it wreaked its havoc a few months ago. It was less of your worst fear and more of everything terrifying that’s ever passed through your brain, even for a millisecond, ever. He didn’t remember most of it, but Dick said-

Dick… said…

Jason felt a sudden onset of green creeping into his corners of his vision and promptly abandoned that line of thought entirely, lest he need to handcuff himself to his bedframe again. The gist was, it was bad. Bad bad. Psychotic, violent behavior bad. Jason-had-to-be-locked-in-a-cell-in-the-Batcave bad. They-couldn’t-get-close-enough-to-sedate-him bad.

But Jason was a tainted test subject — he had the pit, which added a whole new dimension to the rage. Bentley did not.

So really, there was no telling how this would go over.

“Please, just go back to bed,” Bentley muttered, in this sort of defeated child tone that made Jason feel kind of gross and sad. “Lock the door. Turn your security on. I won’t be lucid enough to leave.”

“Kid-“

“Please? It took me seven minutes to get here. I’ve been here for five. There’s only three until it starts,” Bentley muttered with a sigh, his left leg bouncing under the table. He was peeling off everything from his Robin suit that could be dangerous — his whole utility belt, his gauntlets, his cape, his bow, quiver; by the time he was done, he was really just wearing his pants and shirt. “Please just leave me alone. Don’t open the door.”

“Bentley-“

“Promise me, Jason,” He said with a bit of urgency. “Promise that you won’t open the door. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“But-“

“Promise!”

“Fine! I promise. I promise I won’t open the door,” Jason finally caved with a huff. “But if you start killing yourself, that promise is toast.”

Typically, Jason would’ve passed with a hard hell no — but that was before. Before December fourth. Before twenty four days ago. Before their whole family crumbled and he forgot how to do this big brother shit.

Jason armed the security. Took  Bentley’s Robin gear — as well as hidden weapons, kitchen knives, rat poison and other lethal things, like guns — and went back to his bedroom. Closed himself in. And sat.

The safehouse was silent for exactly twenty-four minutes. (Jason wasn’t counting.)

Then he heard footsteps. Just a small pitter-patter, the tiny pat pat of Bentley’s socked feet going down the hallway. He heard them stop at the bathroom. At the coat closet.

Then finally, ahead of his bedroom door. He could see the two little shadows of Bentley’s feet through the crack at the bottom.

There were a couple of tiny knocks.

“Jason?” Came a voice that sounded way too much like baby Bentley from six years ago.  “Jason? Are… are… are you in there? Jason?”

As far as Jason knew, when he had been infected, there was not a single second when he wasn’t trying to actively murder someone.

Honestly, he’d prefer that over the baby Bentley voice.

“Jason? Are you in there?” He knocked again, not louder but faster, frantically. “Jason, I think I’m sick. I don’t feel good. Jason.”

Jason breathed in and out, rubbing his hands over his face. (Why the freaking baby Bentley voice?)

“Jason? It’s thundering really bad and I want to come in,” He continued, knocking softly, over and over without stopping. His voice was getting thick like he was starting to cry. “Jason, my father’s looking at me from the end of the hallway. Please-please let me in, Jason. Please let me in. Please let me in. Jason!”

Jason exhaled. 

“Jason! Jay! Jason! Please, please, my father, he’s… ah!”

There were a myriad of thumps and thuds that let Jason know the kid had probably just fallen and shuffled down the hallway. It was then that Bentley started screaming, thick and wet from crying: “No! No, father, please! Father- ah! No! Father, no, please! Jason! Jason!”

He began to scream real, bloodcurdling screams from the end of the hall, past Jason’s room. He could hear them through the walls, in his bones. 

Twenty minutes of screaming later, and Bentley fell silent.

Okay, well, yeah. Screw this.

Jason only lasted forty-seven minutes before he opened the bedroom door and peered down the dark hallway, toward where Bentley had been yelling from. The old, ugly table at the end of it was knocked over, the tissue box smashed in the floor. There was some blood, there, too, but no Robin.

And suddenly, Jason was slammed in the side of the head with something extremely hard that hit with a clang and sent him careening into the wall. Blood splattered there, and it only could’ve been from his own head.

Without warning, he was hit again, in the back of the head, and he collapsed on his hands and knees. His vision was swimming with black, and his ears were ringing so violently he couldn’t seem to comprehend anything.

Bentley kicked him over, and Jason could’ve swore he saw (and heard the clang) of him dropping — was that the metal legs from the barstools? 

Bentley had manhandled the barstool legs off?

A glance toward the kitchen, and the barstool was laying over, the bolts and screws unscrewed with an alarming amount of blood on them.

With a flash, Bentley was on top of him, rearing back with a giant pair of kitchen shears that Jason didn’t even know he owned. His pupils were so dilated it was almost scary. In a reflex, Jason’s fist collided with the side of his head, and Bentley tumbled off into the floor, the scissors clattering beside him.

Okay, so rage Robin was here. He just had the decency enough to lureJason out before trying to kill him.

Bentley made a mad grapple for the scissors, which, despite Jason’s simultaneous effort, ended up back in the kids hand anyways. And then right into Jason’s.

No, like in Jason’s. Like, Bentley stabbed it through his hand and into the hardwood floor on the other side a millisecond after picking them up.

If Jason were anywhere else, with anyone else, he wouldn’t have reacted. But a part of him was so utterly stunned that he let out a shocked: “Bentley!”

Bentley didn’t seem to hear him, but ripped the bloody scissors right back out and scrambled to stand up. Jason forced himself off the floor, too, and hurried back into the bedroom, slamming the door literally in Bentley’s face. The poor kid rammed against it with his entire body weight, but still wasn’t strong enough to really move him.

Jason exhaled sharply, glancing down at his right hand that now had a furiously bleeding hole in it. He glanced up, around the room. All of the things Jason dubbed lethal were in there, so it was, like, the one place Bentley couldn’t be.

Jason’s eyes caught on Bentley’s bow and quiver that were laying in the open on his bed.

He moved away from the door, and Bentley literally crashed inside, leaving a perfectly sized circle hole in the drywall from the doorknob.

By the time his red, dilated, crazed eyes scoured the room and landed on Jason, he had the black and yellow Robin’s bow drawn and aimed at the child. “I would say I’m sorry, but I’m not.”

He released the arrow, and the syringe-tip landed right in Bentley’s left shoulder with a shout of pain and a jolt. The teenager ripped the syringe head out as quickly as he could, making an ugly wound on his arm in the process, but it was too late — the liquid had been drained.

He looked up just in time to make a really ugly face at Jason, before his eyes rolled back, and he hit the floor.

Jason exhaled sharply, lowering the bow from his face. Bentley was now unresponsive on the hardwood, face down, bleeding in various places with a giant pair of scissors clutched tightly in one hand.

Jason worked swiftly — he took the scissors (and everything lethal) and hid them in his closet, then went about moving Bentley toward the bed. He laid the kid gently on the mattress, and, with a small grimace, handcuffed his right wrist to the bedpost where his own wrist had been.

With an exhale, he sat on the end of the bed and turned the tv on to drown out his own mind. The sedative in the Robin arrows lasted for about an hour, which meant he had about that long to decide how he’d deal with him when he woke.

The tv opened to a news channel, displaying a burning, dilapidated building Jason knew all too well.

“Twenty-four days ago, on December fourth, twenty-seven people were killed in a freak apartment complex explosion, including Jolene Collins, A government official, and Dick Grayson, son of billionaire Bruce Wayne. The paramedics say-“

Jason’s ears stopped working when a picture of Dick popped up on the screen, smiling with those big blue eyes.

The tv shattered, and it took Jason a second to realize it was because he’d thrown the remote at it. Bentley stirred at the noise, only enough to get Jason’s attention and distract him from the green. The handcuffs glimmered in the sun that was starting to come up.

How the hell was he supposed to be the oldest when he couldn’t even handle himself?

—

dedicated to @sassenashsworld 💚

—

tag list! (If you want me to remove or add you, ask in comments!)

@fleur-alise @sarcopterygiian @flyrobinflyy @skylathescholar @gayboss-too-close-to-the-sun @xiaonothere @beatyoutothatusernameloser

[pod-the-panda]

Hey man sorry for spamming your asks this is my last one I swear I was just rewatching the hypnotism episode and was like what if blades was the one to snap out of it instead of boulder??? How would that have gone? I read a fanfic about that ep that expanded on the angst for boulder and it really got the hamster wheel in my head spinning. Like mmmmm delicious angst… also I feel like if Cody was in danger blades would absolutely fight the 3 and kinda make it out in one piece mmm like imagine they snap out of hypnosis and blades is all banged up and Cody is scared??? idk idk what do u think???

You're fine! I love your ideas!

I imagine it might have taken them a few more minutes to figure out what would have caused the hypnotism, mainly because Blades doesn’t think as sciencey as Boulder. But Blades would have had an easier time taking out the cell tower as he could just fly into it instead of trying to outrun all of the others. Though the angst that would have been caused after the other woke up to Blades stuck under the crumbled telephone pole having also been electrocuted when it fell on top of him would be off the charts. (Thats a complex sentence which I don’t feel like fixing lol)

Blades would 100% fight for Cody. Have you seen the stunts he is able to pull? I remember the episode where they were in a booby trapped area, and Blades had to run and jump over all the booby traps cause they were in a forest and the trees were too low for him to transform. Those skills he got would have allowed him to stand up against the rest of them easily. Yes, the others also have skills, but I feel as if the hypnotism would have downgraded their skills a bit.

Also, I feel like the show needed to expand more on the fact that this tech works on BOTH cybertronians and humans. This is absolutely terrifying.

[queenofbaws]

top 5 favourite until dawn characters to WRITE vs top 5 favourite until dawn characters in general (if it's different)

it is such an important distinction med, and i thank you endlessly for letting me get into it 😏

WRITING

1. flamethrower guy/the stranger/jack: this one likely shocks no one. there's just. a joy. that comes with writing an unhinged, monster-hunting hermit. he kicks doors open. he lives in a burnt out hospital full of Creatures. he's larry fessenden. he's alive in canon for roughly 5 minutes. he's the light of my life. 2. mike: probably slightly more of a surprise because i don't write him OFTEN, but i love writing mike. lovelovelove writing him. mostly because, of the ud kids, i think he's the character who talks...the most...like i do irl??? similar speech patterns, i mean - same tendency to just. say things. that do not make sense. or things that did not need to be said. 3. EMILY: again, probably a surprise because i don't write her much, but my GOD there is a freedom to writing in emily's voice asldkfjdskf she's smart. she's mean. she always has at least three insults locked and loaded in the chamber. she's also the only character in the franchise to say "understand the palm of my hand, bitch." she contains multitudes. 4. dr. hill: gotta be honest here. i went through. a lot. of schooling for psychology. okay. like. however much you think that means? it was like. twice that. and i spent a lot of time - a lot of time - listening to professionals in the field talk in circles and say absolutely batshit things while sagely nodding and giving everyone around them knowing looks, and if i didn't have alan j. hill to channel all that lingering angst into, i might've exploded by now 😫 hehehehehe. i'm only sort of joking. 5. beth: what did supermassive give her? nothing. what does that mean? she can be anything i want, and i don't have to worry over whether or not it sounds believable in canon 😎 lmfao. in much the same way i looove writing jack because we get like. 10 lines and A Vibe from him, beth's a hoot to write for because, like. we know who her siblings are. we have an IDEA of what her home life must've been like...and everything else is up for debate!!!

JUST, LIKE, TO LOOK AT

1. ashley ashley ashley: they could never make me hate you bb. did she handle some things poorly? yes. does she make some questionable decisions? sure. would i give her the world if the opportunity presented itself? of course. look, i just think. she should get to do...whatever she wants. always. as a treat. :)c 2. matt: i am so. intrigued. by matt's whole deal. every second of it. he's a huge part of the prank but he's also hugely sympathetic. he has that incredibly cute moment with ashley right as they get to the lodge but seems pretty chilly (if not downright disinterested in) chris and josh, her best friends. he helps jess through the mines. he holds his own with emily. unless you play him a v certain way, he seems the most interested in smoothing things over between everybody. HE LEAVES. THE FUCKING. HATCHET. AT THE BASE. OF THE FIRE TOWER. i would love to live in his brain for just like...ten minutes. just really figure him out. (i need to write more with him too 😭 he has bewitched me, body and soul) 3. flamethrower guy/the stranger/jack: look. look i'm not subtle. i just. love that weird old man. i just love him so much. if supermassive said 'hey here's a dlc where you go through one (1) calendar day as jack fiddler, it costs $60 and is roughly 1 hour of gameplay,' i'd fold immediately. idk why. 4. josh: there is no one - NO ONE - in this, or any other, game who's so willing to commit so fully to the bit. my man had BLUEPRINTS. my guy had DEAD PIGS. bro sourced knockout gas and fake newspapers and real blood and made voice recordings and an alter ego and rigGED HIS WHOLE FAMILY'S VACATION HOME WITH BOOBY TRAPS, THREW A PARTY ON THE ANNIVERSARY OF HIS SISTERS' SUPPOSED DEATHS, AND EVERYONE STILL FUCKING SHOWED UP. say whatever else you want about him, josh had SOMETHING figured out, man. 5. jess: again. did she make some questionable decisions? sure. do i agree with everything she did? no. but after everything she goes through, after all the tragedy and agony and terror she is put through, this girl still has the wherewithal to grab a shovel and beam a guy in the head with it, and you know what? i respect that 🙏🏻 plus she wore hiphuggers to a party on a mountain in alberta in the dead of winter, and i just want to study her under a microscope.

[psychologicalwarclaire]

Greetings! I'm a writer and occasional artist

Fanfics

The name is CurlySwirly on Ao3 and I love interacting with people :)

Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles fics

Spider's Web With Strings Attached - Multi chapter. Big Mama kidnaps the disaster twins and forces them to fight in her Battle Nexus. Horrific pain, angst, injury, and possible death abounds. (In progress)

art for this fic (not mine): Nexus Outfits, Donnie's Perspective, Enter Tyrian and Astros, Tyrian and Astros, "Who's the Entertainment Now?", Voided Colors, You Are Alone, Alpha and Omega, Broken Down, SWSA Doodles

PB&J Painting - Oneshot. Something is up with Mikey. Donnie may not be the best with emotions, but he's determined to help his baby brother, even if he has to get in a few leaf fights to do it.

Brothers for Christmas - Oneshot. Short and sweet Christmas story about April realizing that her new friends are here to stay.

Twas the Rise Before Christmas - Oneshot. Casey Jones centric fic where she convinces the Hamatos to 'Home Alone style' booby trap the Lair. All parodying the poem 'The Night Before Christmas' of course.

Ninjago fics

Rising and Falling - Oneshot. Sora and Lloyd deal with the emotional aftermath of Arin turning to the dark side.

Parenting Goes Bump in the Night - Oneshot. Sora talks about her parents with Lloyd in the middle of the night.

[trumanjo]

Tell the fic ideas plz!

(Esp. if they are WKRP-related :) )

one wkrp fic idea just for you <3

I've had this idea for years, ever since I watched the 1978 movie FM (a much watch movie if you like wkrp. i put the movie on archive.org if anyone wants to watch.) At the end of the movie the characters go on strike against their station which is what inspired this idea:

Up and Down the Dial AU where after Mama changes the station to news and Andy quits (or maybe he's fired. depends on how much angst you want) Johnny, Venus, and Bailey decide something drastic needs to be done. After all, everyone put to much work into the station (especially Andy) for all their hard work to get thrown out. They're a very popular station now, certainly more popular than they were four years ago. Since most of them are quitting anyway, they decide not to go down without a fight.

So, they decide to go on strike. Except they're not union and they know that Mama can just have them replaced. Their solution? They decided to hold up in the station and broadcast for the whole city to hear.

Herb is probably not invited to this. Les would not have been invited except he finds out about it and insists on coming for journalism™ (he strongly disagrees with the whole thing but can't resist the opportunity.) Carlson and Andy are absolutely not told about this, and I can't quite decide if Jennifer joins in or not.

They sneak in very early in the morning before Johnny's shift starts and booby-trap the station, boarding up the stairway and stopping the elevator, etc.

Andy gets a very surprising wake up call that morning when Johnny announces over the radio that the WKRP employees are holding up the station.

I'm not sure how Mr. Carlson would react to this, except he probably wouldn't be happy about it at first, before he eventually joins in. Herb is sad he got left out of the fun.

I imagine that this 'strike' gets a lot of media attention, certainly more than Mama was expecting out of a once failing radio station. In the end she probably has no choice but to concede (but not without a fight first)

A lot of this is inspired by FM, but I often like to think about how the strike sequence would go down in WKRP.

[glorious-spoon]

where the dead men lost their bones [9-1-1 | Buck/Eddie | 1/1]

Rating: Mature Wordcount: 5700 Warnings: Blood and gore; Bites; Amputation Other tags: Zombie apocalypse; Angst; Hurt/comfort; Love confessions; Open/ambiguous ending Summary: The end of the world makes for some difficult choices.

(My contribution to the @911angstinautumn fic fest.)

where the dead men lost their bones [on AO3]

Buck thought the floor was clear.

It should have been clear. It's been weeks now, and he and Eddie have done the miserable, heartbreaking, and frequently gruesome work of checking and clearing every other unit in the building (he's sickeningly grateful for the fact that it isn't exactly the sort of place to draw a lot of families; the vast majority of his neighbors are—were—adults). They've barricaded the exits, the elevator shafts, the windows on the first and second floors. The stairwells are booby-trapped. A fully rational, thinking person could probably evade those, but not—not the other ones. Not the things that people have turned into.

Christopher has been calling them zombies. Eddie likes to complain about that, insist that it's inaccurate, but it's close enough.

The traps were untouched. It should have been safe, or as safe as anywhere is these days.

Eddie is a few steps ahead of him, sawed-off shotgun held comfortably in his left hand, shoulders looser than they have been all day out there in the wilds of what used to be Los Angeles. These trips are necessary: supply runs to keep them going while they finesse their plan to get the hell out of here. There's an outpost up north. Maddie is up there with Jee and Chim, and Buck has been choosing to believe that the rest of his family has made it out, too, because that's the only way he can keep himself sane.

They'll get out. They'll make it to Joshua Tree, and he'll be able to see Bobby and Hen and everyone else, and everything will be—not okay. He doesn't think everything will ever really be okay again. But better.

Continue reading on AO3

[missvelvetsstuff]

Guarded Heart

Bucky Barnes x Reader

MobAu

Summary: Y/N is the daughter of a powerful mob boss who only cares about her horses and making it to the Olympics but her father expects her to marry an equally powerful boss to help strengthen his business. Bucky is looking for a wife to help his business and give him an heir, something his long term girlfriend, Natasha can't do.

Warnings: swearing and angst. A smidge of violence

Last chapter,

"Goddammit Steve, she's gone! Y/N left with Pietro and Wanda." Then his phone dinged, a text with blueprints for her house including everything she had mentioned. Bucky showed his phone to Steve.

Chapter 20

Steve looked at Bucky, eyes wide "Fuck", then startled at a sound from behind him. Furrowing his brow he retreated into his room to grab his phone, whispering "Loki?"

He heard an annoyed breath "Obviously. Do tell me you're on your way."

Confused Steve replied "On my way?"

Loki huffed "Yes, Steven on your way. Have you suffered a stroke since last we spoke?"

Steve shook his head forgetting that Loki couldn't see him "No, but I am pretty confused right about now."

Loki scoffed "She didn't tell you? She told me you were all on board and she was sending the blueprints to you. Did one of you oafs get a message with the blueprints?"

Steve looked at Bucky "Uh, yeah, Buck has em."

"Well that's something I suppose. I'm almost at her house and would appreciate if you could rally Barnes and back us up before Zemo arrives. She told me 2-3 hours when I spoke to her 15 minutes ago. Best to err on the side of caution and have everyone in place within an hour. Can you manage, love?"

Steve started pulling on a black pair of jeans "Yeah, we'll be there. Be careful."

Loki chuckled "Don't get sentimental on me now, Rogers. See you soon."

Bucky was looking at Steve expectantly "So? What'd your boyfriend have to say?"

Steve glared "He's not my-. Nevermind that. He's on his way to Y/N's house. She told him we were down with this insanity and would meet them there."

Bucky shook his head "What the fuck is she playing at? Fuck!" He ran his hand through his hair "Get dressed. Stealth is probably best. Well armed" He looked over his shoulder "You too, Sam. Out the door in 15. Message everyone, including Fury."

Bucky woke his father and they dressed, armed up and piled into the SUV, pulling out 17 minutes later, with 2 more cars following them. Bucky and Steve sat in the back seat looking over the plans, arguing softly and trying to find a way to get in.

"Look, there's a tunnel we can access in the guest house that goes into the sunroom, which is just off of the living room where I'm assuming she would be. We need to get ourselves set up in these passages" Steve pointed on the blueprint "Where we can listen in and get to her quickly. She has Pietro so isn't completely defenseless."

Bucky scoffed "Yeah, he was shot a couple of days ago and left the hospital early, against doctors advice. Not sure he will be much use.

Call Loki and find out where they are and if we should start there or if there's another place."

Steve called Loki "Hey babe, we're almost there but where exactly do you want us to start?"

He listened and nodded for a couple of minutes. "Right. We'll see you soon." He put his phone in his pocket "Staging at the guest house then we move in to the various hiding places. Jesus, Y/N's father was more than prepared, this house is crazy. Secret passages, multiple weapons caches and booby traps that can be activated with an app. An app that also accesses security cameras all over the house and tracks movements. I'm downloading it and sending the link to you."

Bucky nodded "We need a place to park where Zemo won't see a bunch of cars and get suspicious. This only works if he buys her story and we don't want to fuck it up for her."

For the rest of the ride there, they were all quiet, each preparing themselves for battle but hoping it wouldn't get that far.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sitting in her fathers office, Y/N tried to calm her racing heart. Contrary to popular belief she didn't have a death wish, she was simply fed up with her lack of control in her own life. Dreykov, Natasha, Zemo, her father, fucking Bucky.

Her left shoulder was aching and carried a slight odor, like death rotting her flesh away. She was pretty sure she was running a fever as well, likely had an infection. She knew the dressing needed to be changed, she needed to get some sleep and take it easy for awhile but this had to be done. She couldn't rest while Zemo was still out there plotting against her. As she mumbled to herself, she didn't realize how unhinged she was becoming.

Y/N was at the point where she didn't really care anymore if she survived this mess as long as Zemo didn't. Dying would be better than living the rest of her life looking over her shoulder.

She needed pain meds but wasn't willing to chance them taking away her edge. Her mind didn't consider that concern when she lit up a joint in an effort to relax.

The doorbell rang and she jumped out of her seat. She took one last long drag off the joint and exhaled slowly, trying to blow out the anxiety she was feeling. After a couple more calming breaths she stood slowly and headed for the front door. As she walked she fidgeted with her dress, it was one Zemo had always liked as he tried to mold her into some depraved 50's housewife role. It didn't fit quite right due to her missing limb but Wanda did the best she could. Silk stockings were attached to her corset and pink pumps that matched her dress perfectly waited on the floor.

Her hair was styled with a ribbon that matched the trim on her dress. She quickly stepped into her shoes, wobbling the first few steps before gaining her balance.

Y/N didn't realize she had started off walking at a reasonable rate that was slowing as she moved closer to the door. She smoothed her skirt and checked to make sure her weapons were secure and out of sight.

Pietro stood by the fireplace giving her an encouraging nod. Wanda had been sent to the panic room to keep her safe. She was practically a mind reader when dealing with people but not much of a fighter.

The doorbell rang again making Y/N speed up until she was there. She silently said a short prayer and then made sure it was Zemo and one of his men, someone she didn't recognize, before she opened the door.

"Helmut, you look very handsome" she stuttered nervously and moved aside "Please, come in. I have your favorite scotch if you'd like a drink." She didn't mean for that to come out as a question but sounding nervous played into her game. "I made some of your favorite rolls, the ones with cheese and garlic. Come sit in the living room."

Zemo eyed her suspiciously, she had fought him too hard through their entire relationship, to just cave like this. "Thank you my dear. You look quite lovely, is this all for me?"

She tittered nervously "Of course. I contacted you to end this war but have realized that you're the one that I want to marry. It's always been you, I just needed to grow up about some parts of the business. They may be distasteful to me but it's all part of the game.

I don't want to be a boss and carry the weight of peoples lives. I want a simple life, taking care of the man that I love. I would be happy to let you handle business. All I need is you and my horses, not even competing just for pleasure."

Zemo looked her over, she really was delicious but this didn't sound right. "Are you sure my love? This is a huge turnaround for you."

"I know Helmut but the last few years, hell the last few weeks have taught me a lot and on top of the list is that I don't want this pressure, this responsibility."

He moved closer grabbing her hand and pulling her flush against him. His voice lowered "I could give you that life and anything else you want but I have to know I can trust you. Submit to me. Right now, on your knees and prove your devotion. Show me the whore you will be for me and me alone."

She followed his orders, smiling seductively when all she wanted was to kill him. She opened his pants and pulled them down to reveal his partially hard cock. Before she could wrap her mouth around him he stopped her and put himself away.

He smiled wickedly at her as he pulled her to her feet "Wait my love. I have something better. I know your friends are here but I'm not sure where. You'll help me find and kill every one of them. Then I will know you are sincere."

Y/N kept the seductive mask on her face afraid to look in his eyes, hoping he took it as submission. "Of course, Helmut. I'm not great at killing but I'll do what it takes."

Zemo chuckled "I saw the security footage of your confrontation with Natasha. You took her and Clint out, two shots and after your shoulder was hit. I'm sure Clint regretted training you so well, at least for a second, before he died."

She fiddled with her hands "I was angry, they took almost everything away from me. Bucky is an idiot but he-"

Zemo looked at her sadly "He refused to listen when you warned him about her. Refusing to consider your evidence. He even refused to listen to his own brother." He sighed "It's alright my dear, it will take much longer to repair our bond and ensure my trust in you but I'm happy to kill them."

"I'm so sorry, sir. I know I'm weak, that's why I need your strength. At the head of my family your power will be beyond your imagination." She kneeled in front of him, "Please, sir."

Zemo felt himself getting turned on, he had never been able to get her to submit to him like this before, she was too headstrong. He knew he should wait until Barnes and Loki were taken care of before taking his spoils but his cock was straining against his pants at the sight of her kneeling and submitting to him. He wanted Barnes to see her like this on her knees, make up ruined and face fucked out.

He cleared his throat.

She got his message and pulled him back out, straining to look anything besides disgusted as she worked him just how he loved.

Bucky and Steve were behind a bookcase in a passage off the living room. Bucky felt sick listening to her trying to convince Zemo that she wanted him. Words that he wanted to hear her say to him but for that dirtbag. Bucky wanted to shove the bookcase aside and kill him. He tried to ignore the meaning of silence coming from that room. Well, not quite silence he could hear her slurping and Zemos groans and words of praise.

Steve gave him a dirty look and pointed at his watch to give Bucky the message that they had to wait.

Zemo shouted when he finished in her mouth, touching her cheek gently until he grabbed her hair and pulled until she yelped. "Do you believe I'm stupid my love? That I wouldn't realize you set me up." He spat in her face then shrugged "Maybe if Barnes wasn't a mouth breather I wouldn't have been able to hear him" he pulled her up to her feet by her hair causing Y/N to shout in pain "Come on out Barnes before I kill your lady love. I know you're behind the bookcase." He shook his head.

"I'm disappointed, you all seem to have a very poor opinion of me. As though I would walk in to such an obvious trap unaware." He slapped Y/N's face with his free hand "Now face me Barnes before I pull my gun out."

Bucky looked at Steve in a panic, who shrugged and pushed him ahead. Bucky stumbled into the bookcase, making it turn and almost fell before straightening himself out. Steve walked behind him, smirking.

Y/N gasped "Helmut, you must believe me I didn't conspire with Barnes or any in his family. He has betrayed me too many times to trust him with my life."

Zemo shook his head "You think I can't see how he looks at you? You knew he would try to save you just as well as I did. Lucky me, I get to kill you both and take over your families."

"Please, Helmut, sir. I'll be a good wife for you, like you wanted."

Bucky started to object when Zemo reached up Y/N's skirt and pulled a knife out. "If you are sincere why are you armed? I doubt this is the only weapon you have hidden."

He brought the knife up against her throat "This is much better. I can hear your heart racing my sweet. Don't worry, I'm going to kill you last. Maybe take a bit more pleasure from you before I do. Unless you find a way to convince me to keep you."

He looked at Bucky as he stiffened and smirked "Barnes, put down your weapons and instruct your men to do the same or I'll kill her in front of you." He put a little pressure on the knife at her throat, creating a thin line of blood.

Feeling the trickle of blood on her neck brought Y/N out of her haze and made her realize she did want to live. She hoped it wasn't too late for her self preservation to be kicking in.

Bucky looked over at Steve in a panic to see that Steve and Sam were both putting their guns down so he did the same while his mind raced to find a way out.

Before any of them had the chance to come up with anything, a gunshot rang out and Y/N crumpled to the floor.

Chapter 21

@bigphattygyal @cjand10 @lokiandbuckysdoll

@kimomoraba @avery199 @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @esposadomd

@sebsgirl71479 @calwitch @hhiggs

[bekkachaos]

For the AU asks what would happen in a Buddie Apocalypse fic? 🤩

Okay one, Buddie apocalypse (dirty scruffy, trauma-hardened men with baseball bats and playing it loose and fast with shotguns) would be super hot. Two, I have these thoughts:

The 118 have a small homestead that they live on, defended by fences they've put up and booby traps to let them know when someone (or something) is approaching, they grow their food, managed to find some chickens along the way, they've got it pretty good when they're not defending themselves from what's out there.

ENTER RIVALS TO LOVERS

Eddie appears and offers help in exchange for shelter, Buck is against it until he realises Eddie is travelling with a kid in which case "fine only because he has a child in need I DON'T like this guy though" and Eddie's all "don't worry, pretty boy you're not my type either"

Eddie acts like a tough guy (is really very soft and gentle and wants to find love in the dark apocalypse). Buck acts like he wants peace and harmony (but damn when Eddie first saw him swing a bat into a zombie to save his life, covered in dirt and blood and sweat, oh damn).

They of course get separated from the crew and have to hide out in an old barn because they're in the area of a rival group and they're looking for them (cue bickering between themselves followed by Eddie closing the space between them and covering Buck's mouth with his hand to shut him up, both of them pressed against each other into a corner with Eddie's finger on the corner of his mouth as they hear them walking around the perimeter and how the fuck are Buck's eyes so blue? And where is all that anger and mistrust? Why does he look like... that? And why is my hand still touching his mouth the danger has very clearly passed)

Then of course you have walking back in awkward silence, sharing odd glances. Eddie asks why Buck saved him back there where he can't stand him. Buck tells him he just doesn't trust new people, not until they've proved themselves, he's been burned before, but better he save Eddie so he can go back to Christopher.

A STORM BEGINS TO BREW

They are damp and too far to make it back before it gets dark, they break into an abandoned house (THERE'S ONLY ONE BED) they raid the kitchen for some canned goods, they raid the closet for some clothes so they can sleep dry, Buck offers Eddie the bed but he won't take it. "Least you could do after saving me is take the bed". "Maybe it'll help you on the way to trusting me".

God Buck looks beautiful in soft fresh clothes, even if they are a little stale Eddie can't stop staring and shit, pretty boy is kind of exactly his type. Buck settles in the bed, Eddie lays a blanket on the floor but doesn't lie down. He asks Buck what the look was in the barn, when he silenced him, there was a look and Buck just sighs without looking at him.

"Everyone has someone they've found along the way. They all have arms to fall into at the end of another shitty day at the end of the shitty world. You ever just forget what it feels like to be touched by another person? Not like a sister, not like a friend, not patching up a wound. People aren't exactly easy to come by, or easy to trust when they do. No one's touched me like that in years. I needed a moment. I took it. That was the look. Just forget it, sounds stupid just.. forget it."

Eddie sits down on the bed Buck still won't look up at him, not until he's kneeling by his side, fingers grazing his elbow and guiding him onto his side so he can lie down beside him and just press himself into Buck's back, wrapping his arm around Buck's arm and pinning it to his chest tightly, letting his nose press into the back of his neck. Buck's other hand reaches up to hold Eddie's wrist so tight, and they don't say anything but Eddie can feel the soft sobs of relief in Buck's chest until they fall asleep together.

And of course more angst and miscommunication in the morning before they sort their shit out, maybe some blood and another life saving before they kiss in this release of passion and feelings and pent up EMOTIONS

Okay I am done oopsie 😅

Send me an AU and I'll give you five or so facts / events that would happen in the story!

[heytheredeann]

Whumpuary 2024, Day 7 - "I didn't know where else to go" + "Bruises" + "Drugged"

Tags: Post-Canon, Dissolution of UNCLE AU, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Hurt Napoleon Solo, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Bittersweet Ending, Reunions, Goodbyes, Napoleon Solo Is Bad At Feelings, Mentions of Gaby Teller, Everyone Needs A Hug

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He isn’t sure if he is relieved or not. The lights inside the house are turned on, which means that he won’t have to fumble to break into the KGB safehouse and subsequently risk setting off god knows what booby traps, but that also means that Illya is inside, and—and Napoleon really doesn’t want to see him.

He has been doing such a good job at avoiding him, since he caught sight of him two days ago and he realized that the KGB apparently also has business in town at the moment – Sanders claims it has nothing to do with them and to not worry about it, and Napoleon tried to believe him solely in the hopes of manifesting it as the truth.

Needless to say, he has been tense the whole time, distracted by the thought that Illya might show up behind him any second, and perhaps that’s partially to blame for the royal fuck-up that was tonight.

Perhaps he should have headed back to the CIA, but—he recognizes the area, remembers that there’s a KGB safehouse there because Illya dragged him inside once, during a mission under Waverly’s command where he got injured and they needed shelter, and somehow the thought of heading there seems less risky than letting Sanders get his hands on him while he is in this state.

To be fair, when he headed in this direction he was considerably less lightheaded, and he figured that if he found the lights turned on he could always turn back and find a phone to call for help with. Now, though, he doesn’t think he could stop walking, much less turn back, without falling on his face and never getting up again.

He only has to hope that it’s actually Illya inside and not someone else, which is absurd considering how hard he has been trying to avoid him.

He gets to the door with heavy steps that probably announced his arrival from a mile away, and he finds that it’s hard to even raise his arm up to knock, with how tired and dizzy he feels.

When Illya opens the door, the feeling that floods him is unmistakably relief. He feels a little ridiculous for it.

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