#words are hard to focus on tonight (headache problems) but the ones that made it through the fog seemed important

[practically-an-x-man]

prompt "It’s like they said in Star War The Last Jedi: the past fucking sucks, dude…ignore that shit and get a lightsaber." :)

Oh, I can so hear Ophelia saying this...

____ Call it Even

Word Count: 1.6k Content Warnings: depictions of chronic pain/injury ____

It was a rough few days.

Her bad knee had flared up again, thanks to a risky maneuver out on the battlefield. As far as Ophelia could tell, there wouldn't be any lasting damage - not anything past what she was already used to dealing with, at least - but it left her in a lot of pain.

That meant a few things.

One, she couldn't move much. Her ventures peaked at hobbling from her lab to the bathroom and back a few times a day, and nothing more. Hell, Peter had even brought dinner into her lab so she wouldn't have to limp the thirty feet down the hall.

Two, she couldn't sleep. Ophelia had enough insomnia as it was, but the constant pain shredded what little desire to sleep still survived through that. She'd tried, once or twice, alongside a healthy dose of Nyquil, and even that only granted her a few restless hours and a pounding headache once she awoke.

And three, she was more than barred from hero work until the pain subsided. Motion wasn't as much an issue - her actuators would carry her wherever she needed or wanted to go - but the pain made it hard to focus. That would only end in her getting injured. Well, injured more.

So she sat at her desk and tinkered. It was infuriating. She had her machines, she had her music, her actuators brought her whatever parts she needed, but sometimes she did her best thinking by wandering the city.

Here, she couldn't so much as pace her lab for ideas. Ophelia was confined to her lab chair, her bad leg braced and propped on a stack of old machinery in front of her. Amadeus had come and gone throughout the day, and was currently curled up on a lab table while one of her actuators delicately stroked his back. Sometimes their gentleness surprised even her.

"Are you sure it's okay that I head out?" Peter asked, drawing her eyes up to the doorway. He was clad in his Spidey-suit, red Spandex hugging every slope of his body. His mask dangled loosely from one hand, giving her a full view of his mussed hair and concerned brown eyes.

"I'll be fine. Not like I'm doing anything different from what I've done all day," Ophelia responded with a shrug, "Besides, at least one of us should be out there. It's not like the villains are out taking a sick day."

"Yeah, but we could let the cops have this one."

She scoffed.

"Please. They're cops." she huffed, "At best the bad guys'll slip away. At worst, they'll do more harm than good. They always seem to. Never seem to realize there's a whole lot of problems that can't be resolved by the barrel of a gun."

"Yeah, but Ol's-"

"I'm fine, Pete. I promise. Go... do your thing. Protect the city and all that." Ophelia insisted, "And anyway, I'm safer in here than out there. I expect a very dull night."

"Hm. Alright, I guess." he agreed, albeit begrudgingly, and crossed the room to meet her at her desk. He reached to cup the back of her head, guiding her into a brief kiss. He pulled back a moment later, and nearly made it to the door before he turned again. "Hey, ah- set yourself a timer? So you don't stay up too late?"

"When did you become the responsible one?"

"Right about when I learned you'd blown yourself up by being sleep-deprived."

His delivery, delightfully dry, was enough to startle a sharp laugh out of her. Ophelia gave him a crooked grin.

"Fair enough," she said, already reaching for her phone, "There. Every half-hour until midnight."

"Thanks," Peter agreed, "Oh, and I already took care of Amadeus, so he should be fine for the night."

"Great. Oh- hey, I think we're almost out of litter, do you think you could swing by and pick some up if there's a place still open tonight?"

"What, and let the world know Spider-Man has a cat?" he fired back, grinning at her, "Sure. Are we still on Tidy Cats for him?"

"I dunno, I think he's been getting a reaction to it." Ophelia said with a frown, "I think the dust has been irritating his skin. Maybe try to find something all-natural?"

"On it." he said, giving her a brief nod as he pulled his mask on over his head, "Love you, Ol's. Don't stay up too late."

"Love you too. I'll do my best."

____

She stayed up too late.

It wasn't really her fault. Her alarm had gone off at midnight, and as promised she'd worked her way up to her feet and made her way back to the more domestic side of her apartment. She made a very pointed effort not to get lost in her projects as she so often did. She'd go to bed (and probably still be awake, but at least she'd be in bed and awake instead of surrounded by dangerous machinery), and eventually Peter would come back from his swing through the city and lay down beside her, and maybe she'd manage a few hours of sleep.

And then she tripped over Amadeus on the way to the bathroom.

It wasn't awful. The cat was startled but not hurt, and Ophelia managed to twist in a way that took the brunt of the fall on her hip rather than her knees or wrists or any other riskier areas. There were definitely worse ways to fall.

But it sent the pain sparking back to life, lightning bolts all up and down her leg. There was no way she'd find sleep with that agony in the way.

So, three ibuprofen and an ice pack later, she found herself back in her lab.

Just an hour, she told herself. One more hour for the ibuprofen to kick in and the pain to die down, and then she'd get back to bed. And she'd be more careful this time.

But she'd forgotten to set a timer, and then she'd just... gotten lost.

She didn't realize Peter had come home until there was a gentle hand sliding over her shoulders. Ophelia jolted once, started from her focused near-trance, but relaxed as she realized who it was.

"I thought you set a timer."

"I did. Then I fell in the hallway, and..." she trailed off with a shrug, "Anyway, I wasn't getting back to sleep. Sorry."

As she tuned back into the world around her, she realized a few things. One, that the pain in her knee had indeed lessened, down to the same low ache she'd grown used to over the past few days. Two, she had to pee so badly it almost hurt, and she wished she'd remembered to set a timer to take care of that sooner. And three, it was rapidly nearing four in the morning. Much, much later than she meant to be up.

"You fell?"

"Tripped over the cat. I'm alright. So's Amadeus. It's fine."

"Hm." Peter replied, clearly not quite satisfied by her answer, but apparently decided to move on, "What's that you're working on?"

"Oh, uh-" she started, holding up the slim object in her hand, "It's a little like a lightsaber. Still in its early stages, though."

She pressed a button on the side of it, and colorless light arced down the metal rod. Ophelia stretched to grab a piece of scrap metal from the far corner of her desk, and pressed the rod against it. In moments, it had bored a hole straight through.

"Not bad, right?" she said with a grin, shutting the device off and setting it on her desk, "Figured it was about time I started playing with fire again. It's like they said in Star Wars: The Last Jedi: the past fucking sucks, dude… ignore that shit and get a lightsaber."

"And that's Ophelia's four-AM voice, which means it's time to go to bed," Peter decided, though she could hear him stifling laughter as he offered her a hand, "C'mon, Ol's, you can finish in the morning. I'll help you up."

She obliged and took his hand, and he very carefully helped her up to her feet. Once she was up, he shifted his grip to weave his arm around her waist, taking some of her weight off her bad leg.

"Are you hurt at all?" Ophelia found herself asking, even as they hobbled their way out of her lab. Amadeus followed, attempting to weave between their legs like he usually did, but Peter gently rerouted him with one foot. He seemed to process her question a moment later, and shook his head.

"I was careful."

"You say that like I'm not careful."

"No, no- I just- I was more careful tonight since you weren't there, alright?" he stammered, "That's what I mean."

"Good save, Parker."

"I'm serious!"

He started guiding her towards the bedroom, but Ophelia shook her head.

"Bathroom first. I have to pee."

"Alright. I need the first-aid kit anyway."

"I thought you said you weren't injured!" she blurted, suddenly twisting to look him over. Peter lifted his free hand, trying to wave her away.

"No, I- I'm fine, it's just a scratch, I'm just gonna wrap it up so I don't get blood on the sheets before it heals over."

"A scratch is an injury. Did you sleep through health class in elementary school or something?"

"C'mon, Ol's, with my healing-"

"I asked if you were hurt and you said no!"

"Yeah, well, you told me you set a timer for when you'd go to bed!" he shot back, though there was no venom in his voice. He nudged her shoulder, only hard enough to make his point without knocking her off-balance. He was awfully good at that. "Call it even?"

"Fine." she agreed, "Call it even."

[cipheress-to-k-pop]

Hello!! sorry to bother you could write a ben 10 x reader? (the reader is kidnapped by vilgax and ben has to save her, after that ben and the reader has an argument) please, i love your fics!!

Storm Before The Calm

Pairing: Pre-Established; Ben Tennyson x Reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: 3.4k words

A/N: I changed up the request a bit (I figured it shouldn't matter which villain was used here) also I was planning to have this as sort of a damsel in distress situation but after having a chat with some boys pigs I decided a self indulgant badass reader was right up my alley

Additional A/N: I have a math exam on Thursday and I cannot focus for the life of me. So, I decided to finish up one of my drafts. Now hopefully I'll be able to work like a robot for the next week, after satisfying my creative side. Also, this fic was super self indulgant.

"I trust Ben.” You did. With your entire being.

Kevin chuckled from beside you, “Yeah, try saying that without cracking the fillings in your teeth and maybe we’ll believe you.”

His words caused you to relax, only then realizing how hard your jaw was clenched in fury. Gwen sighed in disappointment and for a second you wanted to defend her cousin and your boyfriend. Until you realized that he deserved every bit of unbridled anger coming to him.

“I trust him. Doesn’t mean I’m not mad at him.”

Your hands were balled into tight fists and even though you wanted to take your eyes off the television screen and take a warm bath, you also for some reason couldn’t stop yourself from watching it.

Like you were afraid something would happen when your eyes were off the screen for even a second. Maybe you didn’t trust him.

But honestly how could you, you were currently watching your boyfriend relax in a hot tub with Jennifer Nocturne and the sight was enough to send bile up your throat.

Ben wasn’t returning any of her advances, but he wasn’t stopping her either. And the thought made you sick to your stomach. You knew Ben was faithful and you knew he would never cheat on you but watching how the Hollywood starlet continued to hang off him sent waves of jealousy through you.

Not to mention anger at the fact that he wasn’t doing anything to stop her. When he got back, you were going to wring his neck.

Trusting him was getting harder with Gwen constantly insisting that you dump him.

Honestly, you wondered how that girl even kept a relationship.

When Ben eventually came home, all the entertainment channels were still talking about the two of them and the well-known picture of Jennifer Nocturne kissing him was circulating about. Each time you looked at that image, you wanted to shoot an arrow at the TV.

As time went by, your anger slowly fizzled out. You were unable to maintain your rage at Ben, quickly getting a headache and feeling tired of trying to maintain negative emotions. Even then, you couldn't push down the uneasy feeling in your heart that seized your stomach.

You kept expecting a text message from Ben, an apology call but as the night proceeded you understood that he was having way too much fun with another woman to even think about how you must be feeling.

The thought of that made you want to go back home and crawl underneath the covers, hiding away from the rest of the world.

But Gwen was persistent and any time you tried to wiggle away from the pair of them and go home, she insisted that you stay and make sure Ben knew how upset he made you tonight.

You were more than happy to give your boyfriend the cold shoulder until he apologized rather than have to confront him. That was just how your relationship with Ben worked. Neither of you were the type to lose your tempers and yell and scream at each other.

Although you were worried what would come out of this. Would you be able to peacefully discuss your feelings and then come to some sort of conclusion civilly? Seems too good to be true honestly.

Even then you waited until Ben came home, listening to Gwen and Kevin about how you should rip the band aid off and get everything off your chest rather than ignore him for a couple of days until the two of you got bored.

Usually, the latter would work but you had an inkling that it wouldn't be the solution for this particular argument because if you didn't communicate your emotions then he would never know how you felt about it.

So, even though your stomach filled with anxiety and sadness as the hours passed, you still didn't leave, determined to talk to him about it.

Your jaw was clenched tight when he finally did come back home, utterly relaxed and even happy like he wasn't just curled up against some Hollywood starlet while his girlfriend was watching it on E!

"I'm really upset with you." You ground out when Kevin and Gwen left, not knowing how else to start the conversation.

"What for?"

You didn't reply, picking up the remote and flicking to a gossip channel, then a news channel, then an interview show and all of them had the picture of Ben Tennyson and Jennifer Nocturne locking lips.

Ben winced, "She kissed me! I didn't even return it."

You still refused to look at you, crossing your arms aggressively, "Uh huh and what was today all about?"

"It's just publicity. Jennifer thinks that it'll help with my career."

You scoffed, "What career?"

Ben's back tensed up and he turned to give you a stiff expression, "I'm a superhero. I've saved the universe a thousand times and now that I'm finally getting recognition for it, you want to be petty?"

"Petty? You think I'm being petty? Well forgive me for getting upset after watching my boyfriend curl up to some other woman in a hot tub for the last five hours!" You bit, standing up from the couch.

"It wasn't like that! Stop blowing everything out of proportion!"

"No, you stop pretending like this isn't a big deal! Ever since your secret got out you've been acting like an ass and since meeting that blonde rat it's only gone through your head more!" You shouted, clenching your hands at your sides. How could he not see your side of this?

"Well shouldn't I get to enjoy my life once in a while?! I'm the one saving the planet constantly! I'm the one with constant death threats and near death experiences every other week! Shouldn't I get some attention for it?! God knows I don't get any from you!" He yelled back and you grit your teeth.

"Don't forget that while you were out there risking your life, we were right beside you!"

"Oh, so that's what it is, you're jealous that everyone thinks of you as the sidekick!"

"That is so NOT what this is about!"

"Oh really? Because it sounds like you're jealous because you're not getting attention by mooching off of me!"

Your eyes widened in shock. Mooching? Did he seriously think that you risked your life alongside him every day to help other people and more importantly, keep him safe, for attention?

Your body trembled, outraged and you didn't say another word, leaving his house in a rush and slamming the door behind you.

You needed something to hit.

***

Your body pumped with adrenaline and anger, muscles itching to be used as you sauntered through the old and run-down factory with reckless abandon. You briefly wondered whether you should've told Gwen or Kevin you were going there but then decided against it, pride and anger too great.

Any doubts or hesitation you had disappeared when you saw Vulkanus, standing tall and broad in his metal suit. And as per usual, he had his herd of minions doing his physical labour.

"If it isn't the Plumber's sweetheart." He drawled once he noticed you. You didn't bother with the stealth, leaving the door wide open behind you and letting the sunlight seep in. If he knew what was good for him, then this would be over quick.

"Hello Vulkanus." You greeted politely and he rolled his eyes. Of all people, he knew just how misleading your innocence was.

"Where's the cavalry?"

"Just me today." You answered and for a second you were confused by your own confidence. Maybe you were taking this just a little too easy. Oh well, that was another thing you could blame your pig-headed boyfriend for.

"Well then, this is going to be easier than I thought. Hope you said goodbye to your boyfriend, sweetheart." He rasped out and the corner of your mouth twitched into a smirk. Without another word, you raised your arms, feeling the familiar heat of fire in the palm of your hand before chucking it at him.

Just as you knew he would, he sent his minions towards you first. They were embarrassingly unskilled but the problem came in numbers. They swarmed around you like ants and you felt yourself getting irritated at the clicking sound they were making.

Unfortunately for Vulkanus his make-shift factory was right beside a dam which gave you an endless supply of the elements to work with.

Summoning all the water you could manoeuvre, you pulled it into the factory, shattering the windows along with it and flooding the room. It only took a few flicks of your wrist to create a whirlpool in the centre, knocking all the workers off their feet.

You stiffened your hands, curling in your fingers and the temperature dropped, the water solidifying with each second until all of them were encased in ice. Another flick of the wrist had the path clearing between you and Vulkanus, who was still warm.

"You-You're sparing me?" He asked, confused and a dry laugh left you.

"Not at all," You sang, eyes turning dark, "I'm giving you special treatment."

Vulkanus bounded towards you, holding his mallet high and you swiftly dodged, using water on the floor to slide quickly. He crashed into the engine of one of his machines, the fuel tank exploding and spewing fowl smelling petrol onto the floor.

It floated above the level of water and began surrounding both of you.

He once again came at you, letting out a roar and you used the water to sink through the crevices of his suit, freezing it from within and you heard the satisfying sound of his suit cracking.

Just a little more strength and forcing a gust of air through the cracks had it falling apart and his frail body fell out of its metal encasing.

"You'll pay for this! You big bully!"

"Thanks for the fun time today, Vulkanus." You smiled, strutting to the door just as confidently as you came in. Even though your body was burning from the workout and you could barely breathe, you still couldn't get over the high.

Before leaving the building, you turned around to see him still glaring at you from his place on the floor.

"Oh, I should probably free your minions, right?" You commented, eyes flickering between the ones still encased in ice and the floor that was still flooded with water and petrol.

You let out a fake sigh, "I guess I'll be nice today," You winked at Vulkanus, "Thanks for the playdate, sweetheart."

His eyes widened when you blew a kiss to him, watching in fear as you ignited a flare in your palm and blew it towards him before turning around and using the wind to slam the doors behind you. When you were just a few feet away you heard the place blow apart.

Slowly, the adrenaline began melting and the blood rushing through your ears was much more audible. You were panting, tired from the exercise and the thought of calling Kevin to come and pick you up. Or maybe even Ben. You were calm enough now to have a conversation with him.

When you pulled your phone out of your pocket you felt a hand on your shoulder and spun around to meet eyes with Captain Nemesis. For a brief second you were wondering if he was here to invite you to some inane party or even to tell you that Ben was at one.

Although you hardly looked the part, you were sweating and your face was probably red and blotchy.

"Can I help you?" You asked, taking a step back, he was a little too close to you and the look in his eye freaked you out.

"As a matter of fact, you can." He said, "You see I'm arranging a little stunt for Ben Tennyson. An opportunity if you will, to showcase some of his heroism."

You rolled your eyes, turning away from him. The last thing you wanted to do was feed Ben's ego at the moment.

"With all due respect, I don't really think I'm up for a damsel in distress routine right now, Captain, I'd rather just get home. And If you take another step towards me, I'll kick you where the sun doesn't shine." You snapped and he backed off obediently, raising his hands in a form of surrender.

"That's too bad." He mused and you turned away from him, intent on walking back home or even calling a cab. Anything to get away from this creep faster.

"Too bad you don't really have a choice."

You felt his hand on your bare shoulder again but before you could even react you felt volts of electricity rush through you. You gasped painfully, feeling fire through your veins before everything started to hurt.

White burned in your vision and colours started to blur together as your eyes filled with tears. Your body crumbled, falling forward and Captain Nemesis caught you.

Right before your consciousness slipped away you heard him say something.

"For your sake, you better hope that Ben Tennyson is as great as those gossip channels make him out to be."

***

When you felt yourself regaining consciousness, you could feel your weight pulling down and also couldn't feel the ground. This had your eyes snapping open, regardless of how dizzy you were and how many dots were in your vision.

You hazily made out the venue, Nemesis Tower, before recognize the blonde woman tied up beside you. It didn't take long before you realized she was tied to the other end of the rope, suspended through mid-air just like you.

This was no doubt going to be some sort of deathly choice.

You noticed when Ben came in, turning into Ultimate Humangasaur. He looked furious, like you've never seen him before and you knew it was because Ben was certain he'd teach him a lesson today.

"Where's (Y/N)." He all but growled and your heart soared. You didn't realize how much you missed him until now, everything from before was forgotten.

"Right up there. And so is Jennifer." He replied, still smug despite the way Ben was pining him to the ground by his throat. Ben followed his gaze to meet your eyes and you took a deep breathe, bracing yourself.

A selfish part of you wanted to stay and see what Ben would do, would he save you even though Jennifer was a civilian and world famous?

Even then you figured that you shouldn't risk anyone's life for petty jealousy, so you took a deep breath, blowing it out through your mouth and watching as a gust of wind blew past, the pressure making you swing.

You swung a few feet back, letting your body fall a little before blowing again. Once you gained enough momentum, you looked up to the rope tying the two of you together and spitting fire at it, falling at an angle. You briefly heard Jennifer scream and revelled in her karma for a hot second.

On your way down, you quickly burnt off the rest of the ropes, bringing a pool of water to crystallize into a makeshift slide as you slide on your knees across the floor, just in time to catch Jennifer in your arms.

Your knees stung as they scraped across the concrete and the wind was knocked out of you when the woman fell into your form.

She gasped and her eyes that was screwed shut gently fluttered open. Up close you could understand why everyone was in love with her. Even then you couldn't spare her any concern.

You quickly pushed her out of your arms, noticing Gwen and Kevin staring at you in awe when you stood up. You cracked your knuckles, making your way over to the older man with a scowl.

"For your sake, you better hope that I'm just as weak as you think I am. Spoiler alert, I'm not."

Ben spared a small smile at you but you couldn't feel anything aside from hot fury. You felt water surge beneath your fingers and threw it at him, pulling up a wall of earth to block his blasts.

Your boyfriend immediately began fighting alongside you and your bodies fell into a familiar rhythm. Even though there was a crazed narcissist trying to kill you, you felt safe beside Ben.

It wasn't long before the four of you managed to overpower him, rendering his armour useless until he was defeated, lying pathetically on the ground.

You walked up to him and your lips twisted into an unimpressed frown when you noticed the way he had the audacity to glare at you. Without a second word, you raised your leg and kicked him right between the legs.

"I always keep my promises, Captain."

Kevin began laughing behind you and Ben cringed.

Finally, when you turned to meet Ben, now de-transformed, all the fight left your body and you relaxed. He looked apologetic and you let him approach you.

His arms wrapped around your waist and you leaned into him, breathing the familiar scent of his deodorant and snaking your arms under his jacket to fist his T-shirt.

He sighed into your hair, arms tightening around your body, "I'm sorry. For being an ass to you and saying all those horrible things, I was being an idiot and you deserve an apology."

You didn't move, not pulling away from the way your forehead was pressed against the length of his neck, "Thank you for coming to save me."

"Didn't look like you needed much help." He chuckled and you felt happy hearing the pride in his voice.

"I missed you." You murmured, holding him a little tighter and he turned his head to kiss your forehead gently. And just like that, everything was right in the world. Just as long as you were in each other's arms.

"I love you."

You heard the click of a camera and your head snapped up to see a herd of cameramen and reporters along with a couple of police cars. Ben laughed nervously beside you, "I guess we won't have to worry about another actress coming between us."

You gave him an unimpressed frown and he just smiled, leaning to peck your lips and you heard the crowd of reporters’ gasp and heard the shutters of cameras before they began shouting questions at you.

You pulled away from him when you saw Jennifer Nocturne make her way towards you. You figured she wanted to snuggle up to Ben now that the cameras were filming.

Instead, she walked right up to you, hugging you tightly and your arms flailed pathetically beside her, unsure of what to do, "You saved my life! I don't know how to thank you!"

She pulled away for just a second before pressing a kiss to your lips. Your eyes widened in alarm and the shutters began once again and flashes practically blinded you.

"Huh, so that's what that feels like." Ben murmured when she pulled away from you. Kevin was smirking beside him, satisfied that he got a taste of his own medicine and Gwen was just in shock.

Ben felt his stomach turn at the sight of Jennifer’s lipstick on your mouth and you were unsure whether you should feel repulsed or cocky.

But as you wiped the pigment off your lips and curled back into Ben's side you couldn't feel anything other than your burning muscles and your drooping eyelids.

You squinted because of the bright lights, feeling a headache grow as the exhaustion from before crept up on you again. After 2 fights and a kidnapping today, there was nothing more you wanted than a nap.

"Wanna go home?" Your ever observant boyfriend asked just as the nausea started to kick in. You nodded and he guided you away from the reporters to his car.

He gently placed you into the front seat, shielding your head as you got in to prevent you from hitting it against the hood before buckling your seatbelt, watching carefully as you drifted into a sound sleep.

Ben heard everyone behind him swoon as he lovingly placed a kiss to your knuckles and then climbed into the seat beside you, sparing you one last warm glance before starting the car and driving away.

He'd definitely notice the shy smile on your face when you saw that Ben kissing you was on the front page of a magazine.

And you'd notice the jealous scowl he'd have when he saw that Jennifer kissing you was on the front page of another.

[whimsicallyreading]

Eight Second Ride

Part Three-

(Part Two)

“So you are telling me-“ Aedion scowls from the other side of her bed, “you ditched me for a sweaty bull rider and didn’t even last an hour into the date?”

Aelin shoves a spoonful of cookies and cream ice cream into her mouth and sniffles. “That’s all you got from my story?”

He slings an arm over Aelin’s shoulders and she lays her head on his chest gratefully. She’d caught an Uber back to her apartment where Aedion was already camped out waiting for her.

One look at her mascara smeared face, and he’d made a pillow fort on her bed. Complete with ice cream and “Little Women” playing on his phone.

“No, I got the whole chauvinistic asshole, bit.” Aedion stabs his spoon into the container and breaks up a particularly large piece of Oreo. “I just decided to focus on the part that doesn’t make me want to leave you hear and go and kill him right now.”

“I thought cowboys were supposed to be classy.” Aelin watched Jo play with her sisters in their attic on Aedion’s tiny screen. “Take city girls into the country to ride a horse and show them a bigger purpose in life, kind of shit.”

“Hallmark is such a liar.” Aedion huffs and squeezes her shoulder a little tighter. “I’m sorry, Lin. I know going out tonight was a big step for you. It’s a shame he acted the way he did.”

It was rare Aelin acted on a whim these days. Not like she used to do when she was in high school. She felt a pull to go with Rowan, but her gut had led her into a situation that could have gone south very quickly.

It’s a hard thing when you can’t trust yourself.

“No. I shouldn’t have gone. Especially not alone.” Aelin’s feels her thoughts drifting. Creeping towards that iron box of memories she keeps locked tight. “It’s my mistake.”

“No.”

The fervor in Aedion’s voice draws her attention up to his face, and Aelin is jarred by the intensity of his expression. “Aedion-“

“It’s not your fault.” His voice is gravely, and his blue eyes flicker like the heart of a flame. “I don’t give a shit what that bastard thought you accepting his invitation meant. You don’t owe him sex because he buys you a drink.”

“Aedion-“ Aelin tries to interrupt again. A new wave of tears burns her eyes, but Aedion is on a roll and he isn’t going to quite down until he gets out what’s on his mind.

“You don’t deserve to be treated like an object that can be bought.” Aelin can’t look him in the eyes any longer, but a calloused hand guides her face to the crook of his neck.

“His friends are shitty. He should have made them shut up. Ogling you, and making you feel unsafe and uncomfortable aren’t funny jokes.” Aedion goes on as Aelin sniffles into his shirt.

“You deserve respect. It doesn’t matter what you are wearing, what he buys you, or what his expectations are. His behavior isn’t your fault.” Aedion whispers against the top of her head.

Aelin wraps the arm that isn’t squished under her, around his waist. “I love you, Brother Wolf.”

“I love you too, Fireheart.” Aedion kisses her forehead and tugs her closer, the old terms of endearment are exchanged between them with ease.

“I know you are still dealing with everything that happened a couple years ago. I’m happy to remind you how worth it you are whenever you need.”

Aedion was an island of safety in the turbulent ocean of her life. Even when Aelin was small, she’d often go to him before her own parents with her problems. He was steady, and calm. The exact opposite of her own personality.

After the incident, he hadn’t rested until she was safely at his side again. Aedion stood by her faithfully as she picked up the broken pieces of her life and held her hand as she tried to make something new from them.

“How come you already had this movie downloaded onto your phone?” Aelin teased lightly, trying to lighten the mood. “Did you suddenly develop a sense of taste?”

Aedion purses his lips. “Lysandra said this movie is, and I quote, the most accurate depiction of the female experience.” He shakes his head. “I’ve tried to watch it three times, and I still can’t figure out what it’s even about.”

“You are a simple minded creature, cousin.” Aelin grabs her spoon and scoops a melty bite of ice cream into her mouth. “Thank you for coming over.”

“Anytime, Lin.” He leans his cheek on her head as the scene on his phone shifts from the cooler grey tones of the present, back to the warm colors that represented better days. “Anytime.”

~~~

The day started off better than she expected.

Aedion was gone when she woke up- he had to rise at an ungodly hour to make it to the fire station on time.

Yet, he set her alarm clock for her so Aelin woke up in time to get ready for work. He’d also set a glass of water and an Advil tablet on her bedside table to curb the headache she was sure to have from crying.

Aelin made it out the door with enough time to stop and get coffee on the way. She even splurged and got a chocolate hazelnut Frappuccino with enough sugar to smooth her wounded feelings.

It was going so well, Aelin should have known it was the universe winding up to screw her.

It was only a couple hours before she closed shop when Lorcan Salvaterre stepped through her front door.

“Holy shit, it’s you.” Were the first words from his mouth. His dark eyebrows lifted in surprise. “Rowan is going to flip when I tell him I actually found you.”

“What are you doing here?” Aelin’s slammed a stack of books on the counter.

Lorcan looked pensive. “Rowan said you mentioned owning a book store-“ he drags a hand through his dark hair. “I felt like I ruined his chance with you, so I thought I maybe if I apologized-“

“Let me stop you there,” Aelin didn’t bother looking at him as she labeled books and organized them into stacks. “You didn’t ruin anything, you didn’t help, but he screwed up all by himself.”’

“He realizes that,” Lorcan quickly defends, his voice gruff with irritation. “If I can give him your number I’m sure he will grovel for himself.”

Aelin rolls her eyes and slides another stack to the end of the counter. “You don’t get it.”

“Get what?” She can tell he’s losing his patience with her. Lorcan’s remorse only went so far, apparently.

Aedion’s words from earlier rang in her ears as she repeated them back to the man. “He was overbearing the entire time. Had double standard opinions about my life, and disrespected my boundaries.”

Aelin watched as Lorcan shifted on his feet, itching to say something but obviously refraining. Measuring his words carefully he looked her dead in the eye. “Look. He was just trying to impress you. Rowan doesn’t go out often. Don’t you think you are blowing this a little out of proportion?”

Red. Aelin saw red. Tasted it. Like iron in her mouth. Or maybe that was just the blood from biting her tongue so hard. “I’m working right now. You don’t strike me as extremely literate, but I have to ask for you to either buy something or leave.”

Lorcan glowered at her. “Fine.” He turns to walk out, but Aelin hears him call her a bitch under his breath.

Just then, Elide walks inside the shop doors. A backpack slung over her shoulder, finished with her classes at Rifthold U and prepared to work the evening shift with her.

Aelin is relieved for the interruption and about to take full advantage of it, when the small, brown-haired girl catches sight of Lorcan and beams like a rutting lighthouse.

“Lorcan! I didn’t know you were coming into my work, what a surprise.”

Elide. One of her best friends, runs up to the six-two tower of misogynistic cow boys and flings her arms around him. Hugs him.

Ellie she recalls the name being thrown out last night. She hadn’t put two and two together. Ellie was a common name. Of all the people in this city it had to be Elide, Aelin mentally bemoans.

She wonders if Elide knew how her cowboy behaved when she wasn’t around.

It doesn’t matter. Lorcan is all too aware of Aelin’s eyes boring into his skin, and knows he needs to make a quick get away.

“Ellie,” Lorcan pulls away from her. “I just had to see this book shop you are always talking about.”

He kisses her head, and looks at her with feigned remorsefulness. “I must have gotten your shifts mixed up in my head, though. I’m afraid I have to go. We booked a training time for six and I need to brush down Nettie before we start.”

“Oh,” Elide says, a look of genuine disappointment on her face. “That’s fine. Are we still on for a movie tomorrow?”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” he promises. He pecks her one more time on the lips and tips his chin towards Aelin. Anger still bubbling in his eyes. “Good day, ma’am.”

Aelin releases a breath when the doors close behind him.

“I’m so sad I missed him.” Elide frowns, tossing her back pack behind the counter. “At least you got to meet him. What did you think? He’s absolutely dreamy, right?”

Aelin chokes back a gag. “Yeah. He was really charming.”

“And get this,” Elide smiles. “He’s a cowboy. Like an actual, real life cowboy. He rides pulls and does team roping. It’s sexy.”

Aelin can’t hide the grimace this time. “You are like my baby sister. I never want to hear the words sexy from your mouth again.”

At least, never in the context of Lorcan. They’d had plenty of boy talk before.

“He even carries a rope.” Elide wags an eyebrow. “Better to tie me up when we-“

Aelin holds a book over her face. “I’m not listening to this! I will file a report with HR.”

Elide laughs. “You are the boss, Lin. You know we don’t have an HR.”

“I need to get one now,” Aelin grumbles. “I don’t need an image of yours and Lorcan’s naked asses in my head.”

She wanted Lorcan out of her head entirely. Along with Rowan and the rest of their cadre.

“Fine,” Elide sighs wistfully. “One day you will be in love and I won’t hold it against you when you want to talk about whatever babe you wind up with.”

Her eyes get a mischievous glint. “Actually- Lorcan has some really cute friends. I could set you up with?”

Aelin’s brain banks. “No. No thank you. I like being alone. I’m more than enough company for myself.”

“Come on, a double date would be fun!” Elide whines and tugs on her arm. “You never go out any more. We could have a great night out.”

An image of the twins cutting lines on the bar flash across her mind and make her shudder.

“I said no, Elide.” Aelin says a bit more harshly then she intends, but Elide gets the point and backs off.

“Sorry. I won’t mention it again.” Instead of anger she looks at Aelin worriedly.

She kind of hates that more.

“Thanks.” She shakes her head and tries to clear the residual stress from her head. “I have to set up a new shelf display. Want to help?”

Elide lights back up at the prospect. She loved designing and organizing. They have a great time setting displays up together and Aelin knew it would take her mind away from the tension she’d created.

She just really hoped that Elide dating Lorcan wouldn’t drag any drama into her own life. Aelin didn’t care what half asses excuses Lorcan made, she wasn’t interested in seeing Rowan again.

Hello! I’m so glad I got this posted today. 😂 I’m hoping to get the next chapter of DRNS out tomorrow. After that, my birthday is next Tuesday and I reaaallly want to do a mass update of all my fics then as a hooray to 21. (Yes. That is what I’m doing for my 21st 🤣) Hope you enjoyed it!

Tag List- (Let me know if you would like to be removed or added!)

@charincharge

@westofmoon

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[whump-cravings]

Bird in the Bathroom Pt 2

previous

1,309 words | Original Work: Bird in a Box

Content | BBU (adjacent), recovery whump, winged whump, nonhuman whumpee, past abuse/torture implied, bruises & other markings, disassociation, descriptions of insects (like lice), chronic pain

tag list: @whump-blog

Lemon thought to perhaps turn them around and lean them against the wall, but they instead shifted to lean against the corner made by bathtub and wall, stretching their left wing out so it the end of it ended up in the water. The feathers there soaked up water right away, which Lemon wasn't sure was supposed to happen normally. Were feathers meant to be water-repellent?

Xe tried not to look at the lacerations on their back, stomach twisting at the crisscrossing scars or open lash wounds there. "I'm not sure if soap is any good for feathers, so I'll just pour water on them." Xe picked up the glass of water before perching on the edge of the tub. "Here goes," xe warned before starting at the top of the wing and trickling water from the cup.

Xe jumped when the feathers fluffed up, the person moving their wing in a few jerking motions so that the wing splashed in the water and flicked water off the feathers. Lemon, a casualty, wiped water out of xir eyes with a light laugh.

"I hope that means I'm doing this right. I'm going to try working some of this dirt out with my fingers."

Dirt and muck fell away as xe poured water while brushing through the feathers with only two or three fingers at a time. Xe marveled at the feeling beneath xir fingers, even if grit interrupted the experience.

"Shit," xe said when the first feather fell out under xir touch, fluttering down into the bathtub. "Sorry—a feather came out. I must have been too rough."

But as xe restarted xir work in the same spot, barely touching their wing, another feather dropped out. Lemon sat back, anxious.

"I'm going to look something up really quick," xe said, wiping xir hands dry before reaching over to the sink for xir phone and pulling up a browser to search why a bird person might be losing feathers.

Xe flicked through several websites, many of them about birds instead of birdfolk. Lemon didn't know if that mattered or not, like if illnesses that could affect birds could unilaterally affect birdfolk. The most common answer seemed to be molting, but that involved a lot of keratin 'casings' and looked pretty obvious. Another site said poor nutrition would do it—that was probably a contributing factor but not one Lemon could solve immediately. Other websites suggested parasites, listing signs and symptoms.

"I'm going to look for mites and feather lice," Lemon said a few minutes later. Xir guest hadn't moved. Xe plucked up the fallen feathers and held xem up to the lights above the mirror.

Sure enough, there were holes around the shaft of the feather. "Got feather lice," xe murmured. "I have to look at your skin now, so you might feel my breath on your wing."

Lemon shifted, feeling xir muscles protest, but pushed aside the pain. Gonna pay for this tomorrow morning. Xe leaned in close to examine the exposed patches of skin on the person's wings.

There were scars here, too. It was hard to not focus on those, on the anger simmering in the back of xir spine. To hurt something so beautiful—no, to hurt anything this way was monstrous.

Detecting mites seemed like a harder task than feather lice. Xe leaned back to grab xir phone again, turning on the flashlight before leaning close again.

Lemon almost dropped xir phone when xe saw near-microscopic flecks, almost like pepper, crawling across the person's skin. Xe shuddered, shaking xir free hand. Though xe didn't think xe were particularly bug-adverse, this was disgusting and unnerving and xe already felt itching all over. Xe started looking up home remedies so xe could hopefully start eliminating the problem right now.

"Got mites. I can pick up some spray treatment at a p—store for ani—at a store," xe stumbled, trying to avoid words people used for box boys like pet and animal. "Mite infestations cause skin irritation which can cause feathers to fall out in patches." Which they probably know because they're the one with feathers, xe scolded xemself. "Looks like the best we can do tonight is keep cleaning you up." Unfortunately, xe doubted xe had enough vinegar to make a home remedy.

So Lemon pushed away xir anxiety about the loose feathers and, trying not to think about the bugs, continued cleaning. The water quickly became littered with feathers, dirt, dried blood, and insect bodies that looked like pepper. Every few cups of water, the person would ruffle their feathers and flick water everywhere.

Once xe had cleaned this wing as well as xe could tonight, xe helped them shift to sit on the toilet lid, leaning against the over-the-toilet cabinet. Xe cleaned the other wing.

Probably need a strainer to drain this... Lemon thought as xe looked at the water.

"Time to dry off," xe murmured once finished, leaning to grab a towel and gently dabbing the feathers. Then xe grabbed the first aid kit again to grab a few packages. "I'm going to put some antibiotic ointment on your back."

Finally, Lemon suspected the two of them were both too exhausted to continue. It wasn't perfect, but the guest was about a thousand times cleaner.

Still going to have to vacuum mites out of the bed in the morning, Lemon thought with a sigh. And those boxers are probably done for. Stripping a battered Pet naked definitely did not feel like the right thing to do, though.

"Let's fold this wing up and get you lying down."

Lemon waited for them to furl their wing up, then helped them stand, looping their arm around xir shoulders and xir arm around their waist. Slowly, xe shuffled from the bathroom—the door and hallway were a bit tight, but they managed okay now that the wings were tucked out of the way.

Where their bodies touched, Lemon could feel the bird person's muscles, taut and trembling with every step. It was the only sign they were struggling or pained.

The two of them reached Lemon's bedroom on the other side of the apartment, and for once xe was grateful xe never made the bed. The person slipped from xir grasp as xe lowered them, crawling onto the soft mattress and curling up facing the door.

"Reaching over you to get the blankets," Lemon said, draping them over the person. Xir guest watched xem silently.

"There," Lemon said. "I'll be right back."

Xe left the door open and gathered up the snacks from the bathroom, refilling the cup with apple juice and then bringing all of it to the nightstand. Xe unplugged xir phone charger from the lamp.

"I think that's it tonight.” Xe looked around to assure xemself. "I'll leave the door open and the hall light on. Try and eat some food."

Xir guest's eyes were drooping closed, and this time it looked like it was out of exhaustion. Lemon held back a smile and nodded, turning out the lamp and the room light, leaving the door ajar.

It was difficult not to just drop onto the couch and leave every problem for Future Lemon. 0300 was approaching. Xe sighed in the middle of the kitchen, looking at the instant pot still full of food. The tub needed straining. The bathroom needed to be wiped down. A headache was already building behind xir eyes.

Come on. You can't waste food and you don't want a mite infestation. Grumbling, xe got to work.

By the time xe popped a few painkillers and finally collapsed onto the couch in a change of clothes, the others in the hottest wash possible, it was closer to 0400. Xe knew xir body would extract its revenge in the morning, but that was definitely Future Lemon's problem.

[blackmissfrizzle]

Wild Child

Characters: Miguel Galindo x black!reader

Summary: Miguel can’t control his free spirited wife.

Warnings: Its filthy. I tried to put some plot in it but its barely there lol.

WC: 4.1K

A/N: I hit a couple of birds with this one stone. First its a request from @darlingcherrybomb-Can I have 11 & 15 w/ Miguel Galindo plz??? thank you :) and this is also my submission for my 2K Follower Celebration and Bad Bitch Challenge. The song I’m using is Hood Rat Shit. Also shoutout to @starrynite7114�� for indulging me!

Prompts are bolded

When Miguel Galindo started dating you no one really batted an eye. They simply thought the businessman/cartel boss was going through a mid-life crisis and wanted some young pretty thing on his arm. But when he slipped that engagement ring on your finger and made an honest woman out of you, everyone had questions. You were Santo Padre’s resident wild child.

If it wasn’t the Mayans causing trouble, then it was you. Growing up the Reyes family was your next-door neighbors and that instantly made EZ and Angel your best friends. Even as a child Angel was charismatic and that easily made you look up to him. Everything he did, you tried to do. That earned you the nickname, Angelita. If you could’ve joined the club, you would’ve.

So how you ended up married to Miguel was a mystery. Sure, you cleaned up nice and despite your wild ways you had a respectable job, but you still were considered as riff raff, nothing but a damn troublemaker.

Where everyone saw a crazy party girl, Miguel saw an independent uninhibited woman. Someone unafraid to speak their mind and can hold their own in this cutthroat world. Someone who could handle all of him. Someone who humbled him and made him enjoy the simpler things in life.

Although, he loved you, you were a fucking headache. Your free spirit didn’t sit well with the confines of his lifestyle. Any chance you got you ditched the bodyguards. Upscale lounges? Nah, you loved the dive bars. There’s a Mayans party? You’re there. Dress like you’re a powerful businessman’s wife? Nope can do. You were allergic to designer and preferred jeans and leggings.  Being driven around town? No thank you, you were a speed demon. As you and your friends love to say, “You’re ain’t nothing but a hoodrat hoodrat, hoochie mama.”

Like tonight, he specifically told you he didn’t want you hanging out at the clubhouse because he heard some rumblings of trouble with another MC. But of course, you didn’t listen. It was EZ’s patch party and you were gonna celebrate with your boys.

“Run me my money, Medina!” You folded your hand in the ‘gimme’ motion.

“Aren’t you already rich?” He asked, slapping the twenties in your hand.

Angel busted out laughing and nudged Medina with his shoulder. “We told you not to play her. I told you she’s vicious. Don’t ever fall for the puppy dog eyes.”

Everyone joined in at Medina’s lost. At this point most Mayans in the Santo Padre charter and other charters knew not to play pool with you or at least not to underestimate you, so finding someone not privy to to your skills was delightful.

Throughout the night, your goal was to set EZ up with Gabby and not just for a one-night stand. He desperately needed someone else to focus on instead of Emily. Currently, you were outside at a table with your crew: Coco, Gilly, EZ, and Angel.

“Just go talk to her.” You urged your best friend.

“Yeah, for some crazy ass reason she likes you.” Angel slapped the back of his brother’s head.

Tracing your finger along his arm, you pointed out the evidence. “It’s this damn vein that always making an appearance.”

Coco sat back in amazement. “That shit really turn y’all on? Simple stuff like that? One time I had a chick obsessed with my fingers. She got turned on whenever I held a cig. I thought she was into some freaky ass shit.” The whole table erupted into laughter. For Coco to be so experienced, he was clueless.

Taking his hand in yours, you began tracing his fingers and inspecting. “Oh ok, I see you Coco Cruz. These shits are veiny, long, and thick as fuck. Yeah, homegirl was obsessed!”

“But why, chiquita?” Coco flicked you on the nose.

“Do you not finger bitches, Cruz? These are prefect candidates for fingering. Like dude, when I see, Miguel’s fingers wrapped around a glass, I get all wet and tingly inside.”

If you were paying attention, then you would’ve noticed how quiet all the guys gotten. It wasn’t until Coco slyly slipped his hand out of your grasp that you felt a presence. “He’s behind me, isn’t he?”

“Yup, Angelita!” Angel hooked his arm around your neck and ruffled your hair. A gesture that didn’t bother Miguel. He understood the familial dynamic you had with the Reyes brothers.

“Hey babe!” You smiled at him like you didn’t just disobeyed him by showing up at this party.

Miguel gave you a small smirk. It was his way of telling you he was pissed off, but he wasn’t going to show it in front of company. “Sweetheart,” he kissed you on top of your head. “I’m going to talk to Obispo and then we’re leaving.” His tone told you there was no room for arguments.

Miguel left you to go to talk to Bishop and give you some time to tell your friends goodbye. Marcus stood by you as he watched boss leave. “Angelita, do you ever stay out of trouble?” He patted your back and kissed your temple.

You held your chin as if you were in deep thought. “Mmm, nope. Its too much fun not to.”

“We should’ve nicknamed you little Diabla.” Gilly joked.

“Screw you, Gilly!”

“No, that’s your husband’s job and by the way you’ll be walking like Bambi for the next week will be proof enough.” You slapped Angel upside the head, but the only further his laughing. They all loved to tease you when you got in trouble with Miguel.

You didn’t have time to quip back, because Miguel came back done with his conversation with Bishop and from the looks of it, Bishop got some bad news. Hopefully, none of it had anything to do with you.

When you got in the car the partition was already rolled up, a big red flag that you were in trouble. “Sooooo, what did you talk to Bishop about? He looked upset.”

Miguel cut his eyes to you before he looked back out the window. “That other MC was on the way to the clubhouse to shoot up the place. I handled it when I was on the way. Just dumb luck we stumbled onto them.”

“Wowwww,” you blew a raspberry and widen your eyes as saucers. You hated when he was right, it knocked down all your objections. “Lucky that you were on the way then, huh?” You gave him a nervous smile and scratched the back of your head.

“Lucky?” He repeated the word with venom. “You could’ve died!”

“But I didn’t!”

“You disobeyed me!”

It was true, you didn’t listen, but everything worked out in the end. “I know but-”

One of Miguel’s hand grasped your throat hard enough to make breathing a little harder, but not enough to hurt you. He pressed his face against to the side of yours, harshly breathing against your ear. “No buts- you deliberately disobeyed me and if it wasn’t for me coming to get your bratty ass, you would’ve been dead!”

“Miguel, I’m sorry.”

With his other hand, Miguel shoved his hand down your pants. “Oh, you’re about to be sorry, mi vida. I’ll show you what these fingers can do.” His fingers pushed your panties to the side and explored all your wetness. “Shit! You’re loving this, you dirty little slut. I bet if I wanted to, you’d let me finger you in front of all your little Mayan friends.”

You began riding his fingers as he fucked into you. It was too much not to move. Miguel was an expert in your pleasure and knew how to set you off in minutes if that’s what he wanted, and it appeared he wanted you to suffer. “Miguel, pleaseeeeee.” You pleaded with him, grabbing onto his wrist for support.

“Hmm, please what, querida?” He licked the side of your face then pulled your earlobe in between his teeth. “Dime que quieres. (Tell me what you want.)”

“I want to cum. Please Miguel.” You pecked at his lips giving him the chance to devour your lips. “If you want to cum, you’re gonna have to do it yourself.” Miguel murmured against your lips.

Miguel kept his fingers still as you rolled your hips. It wasn’t the same as him pumping his fingers in and out, but you knew there was one way you could get him to participate once again. Keeping your eyes on Miguel, you wet your fingers and let them find your clit. Not even one rub in and Miguel had his hand around your wrist. “Who told you that you could touch what’s mine?”

You bent down and whispered by his ear. “If it was yours, I would be cumming by now.”

Miguel growled and began furiously fingering you and rubbing your clit with his thumb. “Fucking brat! I better not hear any crying from you tonight talking about its too much. You’re taking everything I’m giving you.”

He wasn’t taking it easy on you anymore. Miguel pumped into you as fast as he could while suckling kisses along your shoulder up to his neck. “Te amo, mi vida. But if you ever do something that stupid again, I won’t have any problems locking your ass up.”

Your lips met Miguel’s for a searing kiss. “I love you too, Miguel.”

Taking some of your hair, Miguel moved it to the other side and kissed your neck. “Now cum all over my fingers.”

Your body immediately responded to Miguel’s command, making you leak onto the seat. That sight almost made Miguel unhinged, but he contained himself. The things he had planned for you couldn’t be executed in the back of a car. So, he allowed you to rest until you got back home, where he could teach you a lesson or two about obedience.

--

The thing about certain lessons with you was that they weren’t long-lasting. There was something that always drew you back to your rebellious ways. Tonight, was girl’s night and you were on your way out the door when you heard Miguel’s voice. “Go change.”

You stopped in your tracks and looked back at your husband sitting with Marcus and Nestor. “Excuse me?” Nestor rubbed his hand over his face and Marcus lowly chuckled. Looks like it was about to be an interesting night in the Galindo household.

Miguel put down the report he was reading and focused his eyes on you. “I said go change, mi amor.”

You knew this was a risqué outfit, but you thought if you walked fast enough, Miguel wouldn’t notice. “What’s wrong with this?” You asked, pretending like you damn well didn’t know what was wrong.

The chair scraped against the floor as Miguel backed out of the chair. He surrounded you as a predator inspecting his prey. A lion chomping at the bits to get to his meal. “You are not wearing that out. I will rip it off you. Now go change or you won’t see your friends until the next girls’ night.” He pulled the strap of your top, letting it slap against your skin. As you turned to go up the stairs, Miguel smacked your ass for his victory. It wasn’t very often that he easily won your compliance.

When you came back down, Miguel was much more appeased with your outfit. A simple flowy black tank top replaced the corset bodysuit you had on earlier. He genuinely wished you a good time as you left. Miguel knew that with a couple of drinks in you, you would be primed for some nasty sex later. Little did he know that you had your original top in your purse and had plans to ditch the bodyguards.

A little later that night, Miguel, Nestor, and Marcus went out to a restaurant to take a break from the tedious work. Nestor excused himself from the table when he got a call from the security team. Miguel flagged the waitress down when he saw Nestor pinched the bridge of his nose. It was the same thing he did when he heard you were up to no good. “She ditched the bodyguards?”

Nestor pulled out his phone to show Miguel a video. “Yeah and is having the time of her life.” Miguel grimaced as he fixed his suit jacket. “Let’s go get my wife before I have to fill my church pew.”

—

The lounge you and your girls went to was nice at first, but after the first round of expensive watered-down drinks all of you were ready to go. Especially, since the music wasn’t danceable to. It was $2 everything at one of your old haunts, so that’s where you went. They had the best mix of current and old hits, having everyone vibing.

With all the drinks being $2 and very strong, you were easily drunk enough not to have a care in the world. Unsurprisingly though you were the most coherent (drinking with bikers would do that to you). So, you knew that you shouldn’t have gotten on top of the bar, but you couldn’t give one flying fuck. What was Miguel gonna do? Put you on his church pew? Please, one bash of these eyelashes and you’d be out of trouble.

The dj began playing a set of Megan thee Stallion and you were in your zone. You and your friends were providing entertainment as y’all screamed the lyrics out.

I want to do it ‘cause it’s fun

It’s fun to bad things

(Hood rat shit)

Drive into a car (Ahh)

Didi you know you could perhaps kill somebody?

(Mwah)

Yes, but I wanted to do hood rat stuff with my friends.

Instantly, you and your friends got into your Megan squats and twerked just like the song told y’all. Its been so long since you did it that you almost got scared that your knees would buckle.

Hood rat shit (Huh) with my hood rat friends

(Ayy)

Everywhere we go (Ayy) we be drinking Hen

(Ayy)

Shake that ass, shake that ass, bitch, bounce that shit (Ayy, yeah)

If you weren’t so caught up, you would’ve felt the air in the room change. You would’ve felt the oxygen leave the room, making it harder to breath. You would’ve stopped making random people drive the boat while they had a great view of your cleavage due to your corset bodysuit that you secretly changed back into.

It wasn’t until you felt that overwhelming presence that you noticed your husband next to you. He rested his elbow on the bar and held his chin in his hand smiling up at you. “Oh, hi honey. Funny seeing you here.” You greeted him. Miguel couldn’t reach your hand, so he started rubbing on your ankle. “No, its funny seeing you here in that,” he nodded at your corset. “What happened to your other shirt?” There was no good answer, so instead you bent down and rapped the lyrics to Miguel, playfully having your fingers in his face.

You ain’t from my hood (Huh)

What you doing round here? (Hey)

Asking all them questions (Huh)

You must be the Feds (Ayy)

Better get from round here

Before you wind up dead (Yeah)

The corner of Miguel’s mouth quirked up as he patiently waited for the song to be over. Despite how mad he was, he enjoyed seeing you have fun with just the simple things. And it wasn’t from youthfulness, but from a good heart. That’s what made him love you. The only things you needed was your friends, family, and good times, and you reminded him that was important.  

“Terminada?”

“Yup,” you took his offered hand and jumped down from the bar. He draped your leather jacket over your shoulders and zipped it up. “Really?” Your eyes dipped down to your chest. Miguel cupped your cheek before he kissed it. “Yes, really. Now let’s leave before I have to shoot someone for ogling you too long.” Quickly, you exited the bar. There was no need for anyone to die because of you.

On the way back to your house, Miguel didn’t reveal how pissed he was. He just kept a possessive hand on your denim clad thigh and discussed his plans for the week. He didn’t go into gory detail, but just enough to prepare you for how busy he would be. That was practically a warning. With him being pissed about your activities tonight and pair that with his busy schedule, let’s just say your glad you’ve been focused on your flexibility and stamina.

Finally, at home, the both of you told Nestor and Marcus good night. You headed for your room, but Miguel gripped the back of your neck tightly and steered you to the playroom down the hall. Miguel specifically used this room when he planned to fuck you for hours. Dear lord, this was gonna be a long night.

You knew better than to speak as he sets up the room. Standing stark still you watched as he lit candles, turned on the fairy lights, and set the LED lights a mix of blue and purple. Miguel loved how the blue hue reflected off your brown skin. It highlighted every single thing he loved about you.

When he was finished setting the ambiance, Miguel circled around you until he was standing directly behind you. He said nothing as his hands went to the button of your jeans. His warm breath caressed your neck like a hug, his hands setting fire to your skin as he pulled down your jeans.

A yelp escaped your lips when you felt Miguel’s teeth scrape against your ass. Done with what you were for sure knew were gonna leave marks, Miguel ran his nose along your ass until he reached the crook of your neck. He dug his fingers into your ass while his teeth dug into your shoulder. The pain was welcoming, making you quiver all over.

“Hands behind your back.” Miguel ordered. Soon, you felt the cuffs around your wrists and then the sensation was felt around your ankles as well. “Stay here.” He whispered against your ear.

You watched Miguel swagger to what you called the ‘sex couch’, it was curved to accommodate your bodies, specifically for adult activities. He sat down, legs all wide and inviting while he loosened his collar. Crooking his fingers, he told you to come here.

The heels you were wearing made you the perfect height that Miguel’s face was directly at your navel. He pressed a light kiss there, then he reached up to your shoulders to push you down on your knees.

Unzipping his pants, he pulled out his cock and you were instantly hypnotized. Honestly, Miguel should just whip it out all the time when he wants you to do something. You’ll listen to him…momentarily.

“Aren’t you gonna take off your clothes?” You inquired.

Miguel wrapped his hand around your hair. “No, at least one of us needs to know how to dress. Now, suck my dick. It ain’t gonna suck itself.” Out of nowhere, he pulled out a cigar, lit it and began smoking it, his way of dismissing you.

There was no way you were gonna tease him. From the tension in his body you knew he would snap at any moment. Your mouth engulfed his length, only getting a couple of bobs in until Miguel roughly pushed your head into his crotch and pummeling your mouth with his cock. All of him took up the room in your throat, but it didn’t bother you. You loved that it was you making those moans come out of Miguel’s mouth.

He granted you a little reprieve and let you up for some air. He took one more puff of his cigar before putting it out. His hands went to your corset to pull your breasts out and for a moment he fondles them with interest until he slapped them and twisted the nipples. “Dressed like a fucking whore! Letting everyone see your tits. I should’ve fucked you right on that bar. No one would’ve stopped me.” Miguel’s hand was now around your throat and he pulled you towards his face. “Would you have let me fucked you there? Hmm, be my little whore?”

“Yes daddy! Whatever you want to do to me, you can.”

His other hand found your hair again. “Huh, you’re giving me permission? I know I can do whatever the fuck I want to you because you’re mines. The only one who seems not know this is you. Can’t follow simple fucking instructions. Is it that hard to listen to me?”

“No.”

“Then why don’t you listen?”

The brat in you just had to jump out, you smiled up at him like a madwoman before responding. “Because it’s fun and I enjoy doing hood rat shit.”

Miguel finally snapped. With unknown strength he ripped your bodysuit off your body and threw you onto your stomach on the couch, securing your ankle cuffs to the locks on the couch. Miguel didn’t bother to take off his clothes, you could feel the fabric of his Armani slacks as he pushed into you.

Even though it was about Miguel’s pleasure, it was about yours as well. Every one of his thrust got you closer to your end, but you wanted more. You wanted to touch your husband, you wanted your lips to leave the same marks he was leaving, you wanted to look him in the eye as he called you a slut, whore, and everything in between. “Daddy turn me around. I want to look at you.” You pleaded.

Miguel hips stuttered a bit, he couldn’t believe what his ears just heard. Leaning forward, his clothed chest was against your naked back. “Did you just give me an order? You think you can just get what you want?”

He couldn’t see your doe eyes, but he could hear the sickeningly sweet babied tone you use on him whenever you want something. “Yes, because I’m your baby girl.”

“Be careful what you wish for, baby girl.” Miguel flipped you over, his hand flew to your throat as he thrusted into you. He loved how you tightened around him when his hand found its permeant place on your neck. “So, fucking responsive to me. Tell me how much you love this cock.”

“I love it so much, daddy. I wish you could be in me every minute of the day” you gasped in between thrusts.

Miguel hovered over you and smoothed your hair. “How sweet, kitten.” He mocked you, then spat in your mouth and smeared it over your face, before shoving four of his fingers in your mouth. He chuckled at how your eyes widen. “What? I thought you wanted to look at me?”

You tried to say something, but your words were muffled by his fingers. “Hmm, what was that whore?” Miguel took his fingers out so he could hear you clearly. “Can I cum, daddy? Pretty please.”

Miguel couldn’t deny you anymore. “Since you asked so nicely, you can.” His thumb reached for you clit and rubbed on it until your legs were shaking and your eyes were rolling to the back of your head, but Miguel wanted your eyes on him. He grabbed the back of your neck and rested your forehead on his. “Look at me when you cum!” Once your eyes connected, Miguel reached his own orgasm and coated your walls with white hot cum.

In an instant, Miguel released the cuffs and carried you to the bed while giving you reassuring kisses and declarations of love. Despite your protests, he left to go get the both of you some water and towels to clean up. While he was gone you reached out for your phone that Miguel conveniently placed for you.

You: Sorry, guys I won’t be able to make it to our ride tomorrow. Raincheck?

Angel: I told y’all! I knew Galindo was gonna fuck her up for that outfit.

Coco: Damn! He broke you off that bad?

You: No, he broke me off that good!

Gilly: EARMUFFS!

You: Blame Dumbass #1 and Dumbass #2. Now am I gonna get a raincheck?

EZ: Yes, you will, Angelita. GN.

Knowing that the guys weren’t going to be mad at the fact that you weren’t going tomorrow, you silenced your phone, ignoring whatever argument they would no doubt get into. Instead you waited for your husband to return to continue breaking you off for the rest of the night.

Tagging: @starrynite7114​ @marvelmaree​ @thickemadame​ @woahitslucyylu​ @ifoundmyhappythought​ @chaneajoyyy​ @angrythingstarlight​ @sadeyesgf​ @teakturn​ @dearsamcrobae​ @strawberrywritings​

[yeet-me-dad-dy]

Bloody Mary

Warnings: Blood

Summary: You find yourself on Hannibal’s menu. Unfortunate for him that you’re not easy prey.

Characters: Hannibal + Vampire Reader (Gender Neutral)

Words: 3,537

Hannibal rested back against his kitchen counter, humming a quiet tune as he flicked through his recipe box. Whatever recipes he ultimately settled on making you into needed to be perfect. You deserve only the best recipes, and the recipes must deserve you, too. 

You and Hannibal met two weeks ago, when he accompanied Jack Crawford to your little classroom in the local college to ask about some strange symbols that were found at a recent crime scene. He was there to create an on-the-go profile of you for Jack, something that the FBI agent had started doing when some little bird whispered worrying things into his ears at night and made him paranoid that no one could be trusted.

Despite being experienced at profiling, Hannibal had great difficulty reading you. In fact, he wasn’t able to read you at all. He was too distracted by… well, you. He didn’t know if you had the same effect on Jack, but your very presence caused Hannibal’s head to spin. There was something about the way you moved, the way you talked, your scent, your smile… your eyes, god, your eyes. When you shook Hannibal’s hand, you looked straight through him. You looked into him, peeled back the curtains and gazed at his very soul as if it was as easy for you as making a cup of coffee. His heart had caught in his chest, and there was, momentarily, a very real fear that you knew exactly who and what he was.

Was this why he decided then and there that he was going to kill you and eat you? It may have contributed to the decision, as well as the certain level of arrogance that you carried, safely tucked under your jacket. As he thought about it more and more afterward, though, he came to the realization that it wasn’t fear that drove this decision, nor was it a dislike, or the belief that you were rude. You weren’t. Arrogant, yes, but not rude. You were perfectly pleasant. In the end, he concluded that it was desire that made the gears in his head turn toward your demise. You smelled divine, you had soft skin, a strong body. You were intoxicating- perfect - and he wanted to devour you in the most literal sense of the word.

With a pleased sigh, he closed his recipe box and returned it to its rightful place on the counter, then checked the time. It was nearly 11pm. He should go to bed, he knew, but his mind was racing with thoughts and plans. It was far too busy up in his head for him to be able to sleep. Instead, he stretched, poured himself a glass of red wine, and headed for his study, where he sat at his desk, retrieved a pen and paper, and began to write.

“Agent Crawford, Dr Lecter. Good to see you’re both well.”

You greeted Jack and Hannibal with a dazzling smile and a handshake, then motioned to the twin chairs in front of your desk.

“Make yourselves comfortable, please.”

Jack obeyed, but Hannibal couldn’t. He couldn’t look at you without thinking of your flesh in his mouth, so he wandered over to a nearby bookshelf and absentmindedly browsed the array of titles, his focus on the conversation behind him.

“What do you have for us, Professor?” Jack asked pleasantly, and Hannibal glanced behind him only long enough to see you take a seat in your expensive desk chair and open an old tome to a marked page, which you then spun around to show Jack.

He kept one ear on the conversation, but didn’t hear much. His head was swimming again, confirming that your presence was the source of the problem and not the vanilla body spray you had been wearing the day he met you, but were not wearing today. Before he knew it, Jack was clapping him on the shoulder to get his attention and thanking you for your help. 

“It’s my pleasure, Agent Crawford.” You had come around to stand on their side of the desk, hands tucked into your pockets. “I’ll help in any way I can. I want to see whoever is doing this caught and cuffed. Not only are they killing innocent people, but they’re playing with things they shouldn’t be. They’re a danger to everyone. You have my number, so please don’t hesitate to call if you need me. I’m available any time of the day or night.”

“I appreciate that, Professor. Truly. It seems like it’s getting harder and harder to come across good people nowadays.”

You nodded solemnly. “You two be well. And stay warm out there; the forecast calls for snow this weekend.”

Jack chuckled. “You too.”

He strode from the room without looking back, sure that Hannibal would follow. He would, in a moment, but he needed to talk to you first. He took in a deep breath to try and clear his head and stopped before you with a gentle smile.

“Did you get my invitation?” he asked.

You nodded and offered him a smile to match his own. “I did, and as honored as I would be to join you for dinner, I’m afraid I can’t. I have a very strict diet, one that I know that you won’t be able to provide for. I am truly sorry.”

Hannibal tilted his head to the side, only the barest gesture to indicate that he wasn’t sure he believed what you were telling him. 

“Whatever your special diet is, I am sure that I would be able to accommodate. I am quite the skilled chef. I can make anything you should request of me.”

You tilted your head as well, a perfect mirror to Hannibal. “I’m sorry,” is all you said, and the last you would say on that matter. He returned home that night, disgruntled and inconvenienced, but not put off in the slightest. There was always the chance that you would decline his invitation, and so he would have to find another way to get you to his house. If you wouldn’t join him as a guest, kidnapping was always an option.

It wasn’t difficult for Hannibal to discover that you stay on campus late into the night, and sometimes all night. Jack had been very useful in uncovering information about you, even if he was ignorant of the fact that it would be used against you. You have many admirers at the college, both students and colleagues, you work hard, you rarely sleep, you arrive early and stay late, or you don’t arrive at all. The days when you don’t arrive, it’s as if you’ve fallen off the face of the Earth. No one knows when you’re about to take one of your impromptu vacations, or where you go when you do, and quite frankly, everyone is too afraid to ask, though they wouldn’t tell Jack why.

He decided, after a few days of contemplation and careful planning, that taking you late one night would be the best decision. There would be no one else on the campus, at least not anywhere near your office, and no one would question your sudden disappearance if that was something you did frequently anyway. He scouted the parking lots before hand, thought through all of his tools to decide what would be best for knocking you out, made sure his car’s back seat would fit you comfortably, and prepared you a place in his house, where you would stay, alive and healthy, as he slowly cut you apart, piece by piece, meal by meal, to devour you.

When the night finally came to pay you a visit, large snowflakes fell gracefully from a black, moonless sky, the stars beyond obscured by thick clouds. The parking lot was sparsely lit by dim street lights placed few and far between, and they illuminated the snow that had begun to stick to the ground. Hannibal would have to hurry. He didn’t want his footprints giving him away. 

He strode purposefully across the blacktop, using his phone to light the way, until he came to one of the college’s ornate side doors and the steps leading up to it. He tucked his phone into his pocket, pulled on his black gloves, and tried the door. Locked. He expected this, which is why he had stolen your key earlier in the week. He retrieved the key from the inside pocket of his coat and unlocked the door with a soft click. He opened it and stepped inside, then closed it quietly against the cold outside.

It was much warmer in here, comfortable, and the hall was dimly lit with the emergency lights that the school keeps on during the off-hours to deter intruders. He had stared at the college’s blueprints so often and for so long since deciding he would have you, that he knew the way to your office like the back of his hand, despite never reaching it from this entrance before. Down the hall, take a right, go up the stairs, another right, two lefts, and yours was the office tucked at the end of the corridor.

There were no windows in this hallway, and thus no emergency lights. The walk to the thick walnut door that closed off your little sanctuary from the rest of the campus was done in darkness, and Hannibal’s shoes made no sound on the tile floor as he approached. He never gets nervous before a kill, but tonight, he had to pause and steady himself before he finally raised his knuckles to the wood and rapped three times.

“Come in,” your voice answered from inside.

He turned the knob and pushed the door open. The large room was dark. The only light came from the lamp sitting on your desk that illuminated a large, ancient-looking tome open on the surface, and you sitting behind it with your hand on the page.

He stepped inside and offered a polite smile. 

“Hello. You didn’t hesitate when you heard the knock. Are you expecting someone?”

You chuckled and leaned back in your chair to stretch.

“No, but this isn’t the first time I’ve had a visitor at one in the morning. Although uncommon, it does happen. Usually it’s one of my students, though. Please, come in. And feel free to turn on the light.”

Hannibal flicked the lightswitch and closed the door behind him, then strode forward, taking a moment to study his surroundings. A bust of an unknown figure by the window, thick curtains, fireplace tools… all things you could use against him should this go poorly.

“Are you fond of the dark, Professor?” he asked as he took a seat in one of the chairs across from you.

“Yes, I am. The lights give me a headache,” you smile.

“Well, I won’t be here for long, and I’ll be sure to turn them off when I leave.” He returns the smile.

“What can I help you with, Doctor?” you ask as you mark the page you were studying in the book, close it, and scoot it aside.

“I was on my way home and thought I’d stop by. There are some things about these murders that have struck my curiosity.”

He meant the recent string of homicides that you were consulting with the FBI on, of course. 

“The kind of curiosity that I can help with?” you asked with a raised brow.

“Yes, perhaps. Agent Crawford came to you because you teach a course on occult studies. You know the symbols that were carved into the victims, drawn on the walls in blood, scribbled on the floors…”

“And is it those symbols that you’re curious about?”

“I’m curious about all of it, Professor.”

You and he talked for quite some time, far longer than he expected to. He supposed that kidnapping you would take him all of fifteen minutes if all went well, but when he looked at the clock on the wall behind you, it had been over an hour and he hadn’t even considered what he had gone there to do yet. He had to admit to himself later that he enjoyed your company and the conversation; not only the topic, but how passionate and insightful you were about your work, and how excited you seemed to be to teach someone something new. He supposed he knew why you became a teacher, then. Eventually, an opportunity arose, and he knew he had to cut the conversation short and take it, or he would leave there without his prize.

He asked you the specifics of the origin of the ritual that the murderer had seemingly been trying to perform, and you rose from your chair with a grin.

“I have a book here that explains it in great detail that I would be willing to let you borrow. Let me just find it.”

You strode around your desk and made your way behind Hannibal to the massive bookshelf on the far left wall. It was as you searched the titles for the one you needed that he pushed himself to his feet and strode quickly toward you. He wanted to strangle you, not enough to kill you, of course, just enough to knock you out. He wanted to feel you in his arms, squirming, writhing, choking, struggling to breathe, fighting to free yourself. He wanted to feel your heart pounding in your chest as fear flooded your senses. He wanted to smell your delicious aroma as your body went limp in his arms. He wanted to nuzzle his face into the crook of your neck as you finally fell unconscious.

He darted forward, like a viper striking its prey, but instead of wrapping his arm around your neck, he felt a shove between his shoulder blades and then the sting of a nearly broken nose as the bookshelf came forward to meet him. He managed to maintain his footing, and spun around with his hand covering his nose, eyes watering from the pain, to press his back against the books and steady himself. You stood before him, and he watched as your soft, friendly smile twisted into a wicked grin, and those gentle eyes that seemed to see all went dark, your gaze morphing into something predatory. 

It took him longer than he liked to admit to realize what had just happened. The speed with which you stepped out of the way and spun around to shove him into the bookcase was nearly inhuman. 

“To be entirely honest, Dr Lecter… I expected more. I expected a challenge.”

Hannibal only blinked in response, confused and unsure how to proceed. He hadn’t accounted for this.

“Nothing to say for yourself?” You took a step forward. “I know you came here to kill me, Doctor, but you’re going to have to try a bit harder than that.”

“I didn’t come here to kill you,” he mumbled through his hand as blood from his nose began to seep between his fingers and drip onto your carpet.

You clicked your tongue as you watched the crimson droplets fall. “That’s gonna stain,” you growled.

That’s when Hannibal’s survival instincts kicked in. He retrieved his knife from his pants pocket and flicked it open. A crude weapon, yes, but effective. He managed to clear the tears from his eyes and accept the pain in his nose well enough to remove his hand. And then he struck. Or, he tried. You dodged effortlessly out of the way, not only of his first attack, but of his second as well, and then his third, his fourth, fifth, sixth. It was as if you knew every move he was going to make before he did.

“Come on, Doctor Lecter. You’re a killer. Kill me.”

Mocking… you were mocking him. He sneered and adjusted his grip on the knife’s hilt.

“You know, Professor… mocking is rude.”

He lunged again, missing your cheek by a fraction of a centimeter, and then your neck by just an inch on the backstroke. Strike after strike was either dodged or blocked, and then suddenly, you were on the offensive. 

You landed a jab to his ribs, and then another to the other side. You shoved your foot behind his heel as he stumbled back, and he fell back against the window. The cold of the glass sent a shiver down his spine despite his wool coat… or maybe it was the sudden realization of the situation he’d found himself in. You held him against the window with an arm across his chest while the other curled around the fist that held the knife and pinned it flat, immobilizing the only method of attack he had. The thick curtains and the bust were too far for him to reach, and your hips were against his, rendering his legs useless.

Hannibal panted hard, struggling to catch his breath after expending far too much energy trying to wound you. You, on the other hand, hadn’t even broken a sweat. Despite dodging every attack he had made, you weren’t breathing hard. He furrowed his brow. You weren’t… breathing. He couldn’t feel your breath on his face, your chest wasn’t rising and falling. He was imagining things, surely. You were just breathing lightly. That must be it.

“That was much better, Doctor Lecter, thank you for the exercise. I’ve been sitting in that chair for far too many days and nights. I’ve been needing a good fight to wake me up, and here you are providing one. Now tell me… if you weren’t here to kill me, then why creep up behind me?”

“You didn’t accept my invitation,” he panted.

You smirked. “So you were going to knock me over the head and drag me home, was that it?”

“Not knock you over the head. I was going to suffocate you.”

“I’m afraid that wouldn’t have done much, Doctor. But to be fair, neither would knocking me over the head, so I suppose you chose what you thought was the best option.”

His nose and ribs were throbbing, and all the late hours preparing for this night seemed to catch up to him all at once. He was exhausted. “What happens now?” he asked quietly, gazing into those cold, dark eyes of yours. “Will you kill me? Toss me from this window? Use my own knife to gut me?”

You chuckled and released him, but remained close. “Eventually, perhaps, but now. That would be too easy. Boring.”

“So you release me and revel in the terror I feel, looking over my shoulder every second of every day, waiting for the knife in the dark?”

“That’s a wonderful way to put it. Yes, I think I like that idea.”

He grins weakly, exhaustion evident on his bloody face. “And what makes you think you’ll be able to get to me? What would you do, I wonder, If I told Agent Crawford that you are the one doing all of these ritual murders?”

“He would believe you, I’m sure, but it wouldn’t matter. It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve had to slaughter an angry mob that came banging on my door.”

Hannibal scoffs. “You think you can stand against an army of armed and armored law enforcement?”

You only smiled, not the wicked grin, nor the soft smile from earlier, but something altogether different. Something… bone-chilling.

“I want to show you something, Dr Lecter.”

Gently, you reached out and took hold of his wrist, his arm and his knife long since fallen to hang loosely at his side. Your black gaze bored into him as you raised his hand and pressed the edge of the blade to your throat. 

“Cut,” you ordered.

“You want me to kill you?”

“You won’t kill me. Now cut.”

Something happened in his head when you gave the command the second time, as if you had taken hold of his strings to puppet him. He didn’t want to, truly, and he didn’t understand why you were ordering him to, but he couldn’t stop himself. He drew the blade across your neck, cutting deep.

There was no gush of blood, no choking, no stumbling back, no terror in your eyes. You stood there, calm and collected, with that not-quite-right smile as blood slowly oozed out of the wound and ran down your neck. And then, the unexplainable happened. Your wound began to heal. Hannibal watched, eyes wide, as the gash slowly knit itself back together, until it was as if he had never cut you in the first place. Not even a scar remained as evidence of the deed.

He understood all too well in this moment that what he had gotten himself into this time was far too deep to ever get out of. His heart beat frantically in his chest, his breathing was heavy and ragged, adrenaline flooded his veins. He swallowed hard.

“What are you?” he tried to ask calmly, but his words came out as barely a whisper. 

Your lips twisted into a deadly grin and you leaned forward. You took in a deep breath, breathing in his scent. Then, you whispered into his ear.

“My dear Doctor… I’m your worst nightmare.”

[apoguecalledjj]

Bruises

Summary: Rafe isn’t too happy that you constantly reject him, and has no problem taking it out on you. The last thing you want is for the pogues to find out, especially JJ.

Word count: 3208 (Went a bit overboard on this one oops)

Pairing: JJ x reader

TW: Physical abuse/assault, vomiting

Requested: @maybebanks​

You weren’t sure how you, a pogue, had ended up working for a kook party, but here you were, trying to clean up wasted alcohol as quickly as it was being spilled and running around grabbing dirty glasses.

You looked out through the window, across the yard of the Cameron’s mansion. Everyone looked like they were having a good time, but you didn’t find yourself wishing to be partying with them, because they were all kooks. And you couldn’t stand kooks.

Someone tapped you on the shoulder, and you turned around to face Rose, the reason for this grand party. “Y/N, you’re free to go now. I think we’re good around here.” She pushed a few hundreds into your palm and smiled.

You forced a smile back and started the dreaded walk you would have to make through the party. You pushed your way through the thick crowd, most people not even noticing you but a couple glaring at you, wondering what a pogue was doing at their oh so fancy party.

A sigh escaped your lips as you realized you were approaching the edge of the lot. It was right next to where your car was parked, and that made you happy, but the edge of the garden was where the teenagers tended to congregate. This was confirmed when you noticed Rafe Cameron approaching you with a smirk on his face.

You put your head down and sped up, acting like you hadn’t seen him and hoping he would leave you alone. That plan failed though, and you heard him right behind you. “Y/N. Don’t run away.”

You turned to face him and had to fight not to roll your eyes. You had only talked to Rafe a couple times, but both those times he had completely disrespected you and made you very uncomfortable. All he cared about was sex, and you had no interest in having sex with him.

“What are you doing, a pogue at a fancy kook party?” He eyed you up and down, biting his lip.

“I was just leaving.” You said firmly, and you tried to turn away.

He grabbed your wrist, and you winced at how hard he held you. “Come on, babe. You have my permission to stay. I don’t mind.” He winked at you, and you tried hard not to gag. You could smell the booze practically radiating off of him. Disgusting.

“I actually have somewhere else I have to be.” You lied and tried to pull your wrist free. That only resulted in him grabbing it even harder, and you knew it was going to leave bruises.

You could see how angry he was getting, and you were scared about what he might do. Rafe could be unpredictable. “Why the fuck do you keep rejecting me!” He yelled, and you flinched back.

“Because I think you’re absolutely disgusting!” You yelled back, realizing your mistake way too late. You should have never said that. You saw Rafe raise his hand and on instinct closed your eyes. You felt his fist connect with your shoulder and you fell to the ground, letting out a cry.

“Fucking! Bitch! Fucking! Pogue!” He swore at you, kicking your side in between words. You curled up, not bothering to try and fight back, just waiting for the pain to stop. You glanced up quickly, hoping someone would see and help, but you were sheltered from the adults by a tree and the teenagers were too busy getting drunk to notice or care.

Rafe muttered something else under his breath and finally walked away. You let out a sob, and pulled up your shirt slightly to reveal bruises already forming. It took you a minute, but you managed to pull yourself up and get to your car.

Your car was shitty, to say the least. It was old, and cheap, and didn’t always work the best but you had saved up to pay for it yourself and it was one of the few things you were proud of. You sat behind the wheel, brushed the tears away and pulled out of the lot.

You had only just entered the cut when you saw your friends, JJ, John B, Pope, and Kie walking along the road. You hoped that they wouldn’t notice you, but JJ raised his hand up to you and you knew you couldn’t ignore them.

JJ hoped in the front seat and the other three climbed into the back. “Man, I am so happy you have a car,” JJ said, plugging in the aux to your phone that was sitting in between you guys. John B’s van was currently not drivable, and Kiara has a hard time getting her family’s car, especially late at night.

You pulled your sleeve down to hide the bruises forming on your wrist. “How was the party?” Kie asked.

“Fine.” You muttered, forgetting about the pain and letting anger take over. Your friends kept talking but you drowned them out, focusing on the road in front of you. You clutched the wheel harder and harder, until your knuckles turned white. Reaching over, you turned up the volume so whatever rap song JJ had turned on was blasting through the speakers.

This caused JJ to finally focus on what you were doing. He turned back around in his seat and stared at you, his eyes widening. “Y/N, fucking slow down! You’re gonna kill us all!”

You finally glanced down at the speedometer, and noticed you were going an easy 30 mph over the speed limit. “Fuck sorry.” You muttered, and slowed the car down.

Pope reached forward to turn the music down. “What’s going on Y/N? There's something wrong.”

You sighed, knowing you wouldn’t be able to escape their interrogation. “It’s fine, guys. Rafe was flirting with me again, wanted me to sleep with him probably. It’s nothing.”

You had told them already about the other times Rafe had flirted with you, and that had pissed them off enough. There was no way you were letting them know that he had hit you this time.

“Fuck, Y/N!” JJ pounded his fist down on your dashboard. “Please let me beat the shit out of him.” 

“It’s okay, JJ.” You told him, even though you knew it was not. Your sleeve started to ride up again and you quickly pulled it down, hoping no one had noticed.

“It’s not okay for him to make you feel like that,” Kie told you. ���Next time you have to work a party let me know and I’ll come with you.” 

You nodded, but you know that wasn’t going to happen. There was no way you were letting Kie, or the guys see how Rafe truly treated you.

you could tell JJ was fuming. He was so overprotective over you, way more than he was over anyone else, and you weren’t sure why. You liked it though, it made you feel safe whenever you were with him. You reached out with one hand to grab his, the other staying on the wheel. 

“It’s okay, really guys.” You said, quickly turning to flash a smile at your friends.

You just hoped they couldn’t tell how forced it was.

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

You grimaced as the waves caused you to knock up against the side of the boat. It was a couple weeks after the party, and Rafe had continued to harass and assault you every time you worked for Rose. You wanted to quit so bad, but you needed the money more than anything.

You shifted so that your bruised side wouldn’t hit the boat again. John B had suggested you guys go fishing, and you were all quick to agree. Luckily, it was a bit chillier so no one questioned the fact that you were wearing a sweatshirt instead of your normal sweatshirt.

JJ came and sat next to you, lazily throwing his arm over your shoulder. You tried not to show your pain as his arm hit one of the places Rafe had hit you just yesterday. “Want some?” He asked holding out the joint in his hand.

You nodded and took it from him, hoping that the weed would help you drown out some of the pain. John B stopped the boat and came to join you guys. “So I heard the kooks are throwing a party on their side of the beach tonight. We should go.”

The rest of your friends were quick to agree, and you tried to hide your nerves as you nodded as well. JJ grabbed your hand and squeezed your hand. “You okay, Y/N? We won’t let Rafe hurt you.”

You smiled at him, but that didn’t stop the bad feeling that was making a home in your stomach.

A few hours later, and you guys were stood around at the party. John B, JJ, Pope, and Kie were all drinking, but you stayed sober so that you could drive them all home.

You patted your pockets and realized you left your phone in your car, which was parked quite a ways away up by the road. You glanced around but couldn’t see Rafe anywhere, and you hadn’t seen him all night, so you decided it was safe to go.

After telling your friends where you were going and convincing your friends that you were fine to go alone, you started the walk up the beach.

You had only just made it up over the hill to the road, about to open the door to your car when you heard footsteps behind you. You turned quickly, hoping it was one of the pogues but your heart dropped when you saw Rafe.

He smirked at you. “I’ve been watching you all night, waiting for you to leave the stupid pogues. How about we go back to my house?” He asked you and you quickly shook your head. This pissed Rafe off, like always, and he wasted absolutely no time slamming your head down on the hood of your car. 

Your vision went blurry, and you blinked a couple times waiting for the next hit but it never came. Your head was pounding. Just as you managed to regain your vision and glance up, Rafe swung his fit and hit you in the stomach. You doubled over, the pain taking over as you started gagging and the contents of your stomach spilled out onto the ground. Rafe was about to land another punch, but his face screwed up in disgust as he watched you throw up. “Gross.” He muttered, turning to walk away. “Don’t fucking tell your pogue boyfriend about this.”

You quickly jumped in your car and locked the doors, grabbing your phone to call JJ. He answered after a couple of rings, and you told him you were heading home because you had a headache, and you would come back to pick them up when they were ready. Not a lie, but not the whole truth either.

“No, we’ll come now, we’re bored anyway,” JJ told you, and you heard him telling the others before he hung up. You focused on stopping your shaking before they made it to the car.

Only a couple minutes later, you heard someone banging on the window. You looked up, terrified to see Rafe again, but it was JJ, banging on the passenger side window.

“Why were the doors locked?” He asked after you left him and the others in.

“Must have leaned on it.” You couldn’t look him in the eye.

“Hey, who the hell threw up right outside your car?” John B asked, sliding in the back seat.

“Was there when I got here.” You lied again, starting the car and pulling out. Your head was throbbing.

“Are you okay?” Pope asked, noticing something was off.

“Yeah, just got a headache. Probably from the music.” You lied for the millionth time that night, before tuning them out to focus on just getting home.

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

It was the next day, and you weren’t as lucky as you had been the days before. It was extremely nice and warm out, and your friends planned to go surfing.

You threw on another sweatshirt and shorts before leaving to meet them down at the beach. Hopefully they wouldn’t ask any questions.

The pogues weren’t stupid though. “That doesn’t look like something you would wear surfing!” Kie yelled as soon as she spotted you. 

You were wearing your bikini underneath, but you had no intention of taking off your sweatshirt due to the bruises left from Rafe. “Come on, the waters great Y/N!” John B yelled out at you from where he was in the water with Pope. Kie and JJ were on the beach, obviously waiting for you.

“I think I’m going to stay on the beach. I’m a bit chilly, I must be coming down with something.” You lied to them, but JJ knew you too well and seen right through you.

He lightly grabbed your shoulders, but that was enough to make you flinch as he put his hand right on one of the bruises. His eyebrows furrowed, and you knew that he had noticed.

“What’s wrong?” John B and Pope were approaching, wondering what was taking so long. “Take off your shirt,” JJ commanded you.

“Bit forward there aren’t you JJ?” You tried to joke, but it didn’t come out right and the others could now tell that something was obviously wrong.

“John B, come help me hold her down.” You realized what they were trying to do, and your eyes widened, immediately shaking your head no. 

“No guys that's really not necessary. Please don’t. Stop!” You protested as the two boys gabbed you and gently pushed you down to the sand. You glanced at Pope and Kie for help, but they just shook their heads, knowing this had to be done.

You fought and screamed and kicked, but JJ finally got your shirt up and you heard Kie gasp as the bruises were revealed. You looked up with tears in your eyes as JJ clenched his jaw and ran a hand through his hair.

“Who the fuck did that to you!” You flinched again as JJ yelled, and John B glared at him. 

“Come on, let’s get you to the house.” John B said, bending over to help you up but JJ pushed him out of the way. He bent down and you thought he was going to help you up, but instead he picked you up and held you in his arms. You leaned into his chest and sobbed.

“It was Rafe, wasn’t it?” He asked, and you nodded against his chest.

He carried you to the house, John B, Pope, and Kie following quietly behind. He put you down on the couch, and Kie immediately started to pull your sweatshirt off. You didn’t have the energy to stop her.

Finally it was revealed how bad it really was, and JJ began pacing around the room. “FUCK. FUCK. Fuck.” His voice got quieter as he took in the sight of you, still sobbing on the couch.

“How long?” Pope asked. 

“Since the party, that night I was speeding.” You whispered, not able to look any of them in the eye. You were so embarrassed. 

“Why didn’t you tell us?” John B asked, clearly stressed out. JJ punched a wall and you cowered back into the couch. “Hey, JJ, stop.” John B told him.

“You guys have your own problems.” You finally said. “I didn’t want to bother you with mine.”

“I’m gonna kill him,” JJ said, finally stopping and just staring at you.

“Don’t.” You whispered. “Please, just come here. Hold me, JJ.”

He slowly walked over and sat down, pulling you into his lap. He brushed over the bruise on your shoulder, then the one on your hip. “It started that night at the party.” You started, deciding to tell them the story. You went on to explain all the other times when you had worked for Rose, and finally last night by your car.

Kie put her head in her hands. “I should have noticed something was wrong.” You shook your head slightly.

Before you knew it, you and JJ were surrounded, the pogues pulling you into a gentle group hug so they wouldn’t hurt you. Kie began to sob. When they pulled away, you noticed John B’s eyes watering and tears falling down Pope’s face.

“We promised to protect you.” John B whispered, a tear finally falling. “We failed.”

You assured him it was okay, and then JJ spoke for the first time in a while. “Can we have a minute alone?” He asked.

The others nodded, and went outside. JJ looked down at you. “Princess.” He said, tears falling onto your shoulder. This was the first time you had seen JJ actually cry, and not try to hold it in. “You do not deserve this. This should have never happened to you. The way Rafe makes you feel, that’s not how you should feel. We’re gonna fucking kill him, I promise.” He ran his fingers through your hair.

You smiled up at him, and for the first time in a while, it wasn’t forced. “I don’t want you to kill him, JJ. I feel safe now. I feel safe with you.” He pulled you in even closer and kissed the top of his head. You listened to his heartbeat, and it helped you relax.

You don’t know how long you guys sat there like that, but eventually your friends came in from outside. They tried to reassure you some more, but you insisted they change the topic, you didn’t want to talk about it anymore. So you guys ended up just laying around, talking about anything except Rafe.

JJ didn’t leave your side for the rest of the day. “I’m never letting you out of my sight again. I swear.” He whispered in your ear, so the others couldn’t hear.

And he kept that promise. From that day on, JJ always held your hand, or stayed close enough so that he could always keep an eye on you. 

He convinced you to stop working for Rose, and Kie got you a job at The Wreck so JJ and the others could always be around.

He made it his goal to prove to you the opposite of everything Rafe had said, making you feel loved and beautiful and worthy. He was constantly complimenting you and telling how much you meant to him, and it wasn’t long before he told you he loved you and asked you to be his girlfriend.

John B, Pope, and Kie saw it coming, and were just as excited as you guys were when they heard JJ had finally told you how he felt.

The 5 of you were constantly together, now even more than before. Your bruises healed, and you spent more time laughing and smiling than crying. The boys made sure Rafe stayed away, and you hadn’t even laid eyes on him in weeks. You knew JJ and John B had beaten him up, which you were upset about at first but you could never stay mad at them for long. 

You were finally happy, and you knew Rafe would never hurt you again.

[just2bubbly]

Longings and Comm

Masterlist

Summary

"I swear if I could come, I would have been near you in a heartbeat."

Absence always seems to make the heart grow fonder and Cinder and Kai are no different in this vast expanse. After a busy day at work with Lunars, Cinder relies on Kai to make her smile but what happens when unexpected inquiries are made and feelings are slipped off.

Ship: Kaider

Words: 1502 words

__

Cinder's Perspective

She was so done with everyone. Every single one of them and this headache was killing her and unlike her usual headaches caused as a result of grief. This one was a real fucking headache caused because of annoyance and extreme anger.

She did something very un-queenly, like shouting in her chambers with a colourful string of swear words going in her mind.

1.2.3.4

Like every meeting that had ever happened, this was nothing different. Well, except for the appearances of lunar aristocrats. As if the stars surrounding her knew exactly what she wanted, Kai commed with such perfect timings that she wondered if Iko was behind this. If she was, may God bless her best friend, her only true companion on this entire dreary planet.

"Thank Goodness you commed. I am so angry-"

He chuckled at her loud outburst, mildly interrupting her. She would have glared if it was anyone else but Kai. However, the voice of his chuckle was enough to calm her down.

"Welcome to Royalty Queen Selene!"

"Stop saying it as if I have won a lottery ticket to visit Earth"

"So is that what you are missing? Earth?" he asked with a smirk tugging at his lips.

"You would know," she said, awaiting him to smile one of those shy smiles reserved for her.

"Kai! I miss Earth and people who can't perform bio-electric manipulation. Heck, you don't know how lucky you are! "

"Why?" he asked, his eyebrows quirking as his curiosity peeked in.

"Well, there are many reasons..." she was going to narrate each one of it to him unless he said otherwise.

Noting her long pause for permission, he granted, "Start Cinder, I'm all ears for you today."

'Ah! This guy was too good for his own self' she seemed to exclaim inside her head.

"Let's start then. I would say sit down as there is a long list of reasons. Firstly, these obnoxious Lunars- they are obsessed with fashion and by fashion, I mean an eerie sense of fashion. My eyes are hurt by just looking at them and that's not my individual statement, even Iko agrees. Plus, my cybernetics and the device goes haywire on me trying to pinpoint their true looks every time I glance at them; making it extremely difficult to focus. Secondly, their love to change appearances, like someone might be having blonde hair today and tomorrow they might turn out bald or something like that. I have a hard time remembering people, providing that I have cybernetics it is saying something. I can look through their glamour and see their true appearances but even then I have a hard time recalling them like hell, Luna needs some form of a database so that I or the computer in my brain can memorize all of them. At least earthen leaders have the decency to come dressed up in proper attire. Lunars, one man showed up in pyjamas to the cabinet meetings." She huffed and stopped to catch her breath.

Seeing that she was somewhat done with her ramble for the day, she groaned for what felt like the umpteenth time in the day.

"You have it bad, Cin, I absolutely agree but c'mon you have me and other people to complain to. Besides, how are you?"

"Yeah, I'm good. Sorry to waste your time with my problems. I should not rant like this but my aristocrat citizens are chaotic and useless who loathe agreeing with me." She grumbled.

"You are not alone actually. Vargas and Camilla gave me a headache today but thanks to you I at least have one thing less to worry about"

"And that is?" she inquired.

"Letumosis and Levana, Cinder. How do you seem to forget that you are the revolutionary?" he teasingly asked. It was not like she was fetching compliments just because she was the one who killed Levana. The fact that she was the revolutionary often slipped from her mind if not for Thorne's remarks and a few graceful acknowledgements here and there.

"My court tells me otherwise!"

"Don't listen to those lunar fools, Cinder. You are THE revolutionary. Hero of the entire universe-"

"Stop praising me like some goddess" she cut off him shortly before he decided to go into a full-blown speech about how wonderful she was. Believe her; he had done that at the last annual Peace ball before everyone.

"Besides Emperor how could you call lunars fools before the Queen of Luna? You have lost your fine touch of diplomacy Kaito."

"Well just the way you called them and I quote 'obnoxious Lunars' before a few moments. And don't you worry I'm not losing my fine diplomatic touch anytime sooner. "He joked along.

"Good, it would be a shame if you did." She exclaimed adding to their playful banter.

Soon they fell into a comfortable silence. She had forgotten about her worries, for the time being, thanks to Kai and his very charismatic personality.

"How are you?"

"Uh?" he looked confused because of her out of the blue question.

"I meant how you are doing, like not the meetings and world leaders but just you!" she clarified. It was not likely of Cinder to generally indulge in talking about emotions with anyone. However, Kai had patiently listened to her ramble so she could hear his inner turmoil if any as well.

"Oh," He said for having nothing else to say. Taking his time to answer, he sighed, "I am good, maybe. I dunno, I have never been asked about just myself like this before. I am satisfied with my lot but responsibilities make me jittery. Even then I have Torin who assists me, I am so thankful for having him. Other than that I have a sickening feeling every time I have to attend meetings with world leaders. Yet I am happier in my place than ever before. I know this sounds weird and unintelligible- " He inhaled sharply, stopping in his track, bitting onto his lips.

"Don't worry, Kai. I completely understand the feeling." She assured him. He had completely moved into pessimism within few seconds. Behind the glorious facade of being royalty, sadness and despair are what remains hidden for a long time. Cinder completely understood how it felt to have everything yet feel unhappy about something that you could never have.

She had missed his moist copper-brown eyes but his swiftly moving to rub away the moisture from them did not go unnoticed.

"Hey, it's okay, Kai," she consoled.

She said in a comforting voice, wishing to be near him and just hug him tightly while he cries his heart out.

"No, no. I'm sorry I just feel like crap for a few days and I miss you." He mumbled, his voice becoming husky,

"I miss you too, Kai. I swear if I could come, I would have been near you in a heartbeat." She said, as her synthetic heart continued to long to touch him.

There was some commotion on his end.

"Your Majesty" someone called for him.

"Cinder, I'm sorry to end on a sad note but I have to go. I am fine, don't worry, I will call you tomorrow or maybe tonight, what time is it?" he asked.

"It's 2200 here."

"Okay, so I will call you tomorrow without fail, but sorry now that I have to leave. I am sorry to sadden you with all my feelings-"

"Stop apologizing, Kai. It's completely fine. Besides, it's okay to let it out from time to time."

He was called urgently by someone in the background; making him quicken his pace as he mumbled incoherent words to her.

"I miss you, call you back later. Love-" he said as the comm was ended by him. He had failed to complete his sentence and she contemplated if she should comm him again just to hear him finish his words. However, that would be a foolish thing to do when he seemed to be in so much hurry.

"Love you too, Kai." She said for the ears who would not hear it.

__

A/N: This was supposed to be fluff, but things took a new turn and I could not undo it. To be honest, I can't imagine Kai and Cinder going through their two years apart relationship without slipping 'I miss you' in  any and every conversations.

Your views will be very much appreciated! Be sure to like, reblog and comment if you like it! Tell me if you wanna be tagged!

[sweetyyhippyy]

Part of You. Spencer Reid x OC! Character.

Chapter Two: Tea and Confirmation

(Not my gif)

Summary: Spencer calls Bridgett in the middle of the night because he's having dark thoughts. She comes over to help him though it. Hair braiding and fluff ensues.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x OC! Plus size character, Bridgett Mendez

TW: Mentions of Tobias Hankel, mentions Spencer's addiction from season 2, morning w**d, fluff. I think that's all!

Word count: 2.7K

A.N.: This is season 5 Spencer! If you read my last chapter, thank you! I appreciate it so much. There are a few italicized sentences, those are Spencer's inside thoughts.

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

Bridgett snaps her head up from her sleep at the sound of her phone ringing from her bedside table. She looks around to see her alarm clock only reading “3:27am.” It takes a few seconds before she registers that she wasn’t imagining the whole thing. She grabs the phone, laying her head back down on her pillow.

“Hello?” She mumbles, trying to go back to sleep at this point.

On the other end she can hear someone sniffling, a low sob coming from her receiver.

“Who is this?”

“It’s Spencer. I kn- know it’s e-ear-early, but I’m just…” His voice breaks completely, louder sobs erupting.

Bridgett sits up, turning her light on, looking for her shoes and coat, knowing she was going to be leaving for his apartment once she was off the phone with him regardless if he wanted her to or not.

“What’s the matter sweetheart?”

His deep breath sounding ragged.

“I’m hav-ing a hard time with these nightmares. And my headache won’t go away. I sound like a baby calling y-you over this, I’m sorry.”

Her heart hurt with how sad and worked up he was. His nightmares had been on and off for as long as she'd known him. They bonded over having similar nightmares when they started off at the BAU. He saw similar tells in her that he had too.

“No, don’t be sorry. I’ll be over in less than 15 minutes okay?”

“No, you don’t have to come ov-.”

Bridgett locks her door behind her, already walking down the hallway of her apartment complex.

“Too late. I’m already on my way. Less than 15.”

***

She parks her car across the street from his apartment, grabbing the drugstore bag from her passenger seat and the blanket from her trunk, hurrying to the warm building. It had been 5 years since she had moved from Texas to Virginia and she still wasn’t used to the cold winter time brought. She climbs the 4 flights of stairs up to Spencer’s apartment, knocking on his door once she got there.

When Spencer opened his door finally, his face was splotchy red, his under eyes were purple, his eyes bloodshot red. Before she walks in she wraps her arms around Spencer’s neck, bringing him in for a long hug. His arms wrap around her waist, letting her hold him while he tries to suppress his tears.

“It’s okay honey.” She coos in his ear, rocking him back and forth.

“I don’t know why I can’t stop thinking about it.” He lets go of her, walking back into his apartment.

She follows after him to his couch, resting her hand on his knee.

“What are you thinking about?”

“Tobias.”

She shutters at his name. It was tough time when Spencer was on Dilaudid. Bridgett had only been apart of the team for a few months before the Hankel situation happened. She had seen a vial and syringe in his bag one night when he had asked Bridgett to grab something for him. Then it all made sense. When she confronted him about it a few days later, she brought it up gently, it wasn’t her first time dealing with someone she cared deeply about to be addicted to drugs. It ended in a screaming match between the two of them. They didn’t talk outside of work for almost 3 months. But one night Spencer came to her apartment, visibly going through a withdrawal and needed help. Of course she helped him and that’s when she learned he was seeking help for the addiction. Since then she’s “on call” so to speak to help him through his tough times.

“Have you been thinking about relapsing?”

Spencer stays quiet for a minute, deciding on whether or not he wanted to lie, but if he did lie he knew she would call him out on it. “Honestly, yeah I have thought about it. A few times actually. Tonight it was weighing heavily on my mind. That’s why I called you.”

“It’s good that you called me first.” She praises him, taking hold of his hand and holding it in hers.

Spencer smiles softly at her, looking down to his lap. He was supposed to be sad but he almost got lost in her eyes.

“Do you think the lack of sleep and being stressed out is part of the reason you have a headache right now?”

“Yeah, it could be.” Spencer nods, leaning his head back against the edge of the couch, looking up at the ceiling. Breathing in deeply for the first time that night without tears escaping his eyes.

Bridgett let’s go of his hands, grabbing the plastic bag she brought with her and takes out a box of the herbal sleepytime tea. Spencer rolls his head to the side, watching her take off to his kitchen.

He couldn’t believe that she drove to his place at almost 3:30 in the morning just to listen to him talk about his problems after he cried to her on the phone. And now she was making him tea. Now all he could focus on was that he really was falling in love with his best friend.

After a few minutes Bridgett came back with 2 mugs of tea, Spencer’s more full than her. She hands him the hot mug before taking a seat on the other side of him.

“You're always super patient with me.”

“Did you expect me to get through this by yourself? I care about you a lot and I want you to be okay.”

Spencer’s heart flutters, hiding his face with the mug by taking a drink. Bridgett yawns, putting her mug on the coffee table.

“You should get some sleep. I woke you up in the middle of the night.”

“No, I'm fine. I won’t go to bed until you go.”

Spencer smiles, grabbing the blanket Bridgett brought with her and throwing it over her lower half, Spencer taking the leftover.

As they enjoy the oldie mix that was playing in the back, Spencer begins humming along with the tune playing. Bridgett lays her legs across Spencer’s lap, making herself more comfortable. It takes everything in his power to not touch her legs.

Just a few hours ago he was contemplating relapsing, and an emotional mess. But now that Bridgett was here, talking to him, distracting him as best as she could, he felt different. Spencer had been developing feelings for Bridgett for a long time, but this was the first time that he's felt like this.

***

Bridgett stretches her body, feeling pressure on her thighs. She looks around at the unfamiliarity of the apartment at first, her brain taking a few seconds to register that she was at Spencer’s place, hence the wall of books across the couch. She rubs her eyes and looks down to see Spencer’s head resting on her outer thigh, his arms wrapped around one of her legs. She laughs slightly not moving to let Spencer finish his rest. As she was laying there she could hear soft snores coming from him. She can’t help but push his curls out of his face softly, playing with the long stands between her fingers. She took a few sections of his hair and parted it to start braiding it. Bridgett giggled, making sure Spencer didn’t wake up at her giving him a new hairstyle.

It had been almost 10 minutes and she knew she’d feel guilty for walking Spencer up from his sleep after the night he had but she needed to use the restroom, the tea catching up to her. She continued to rake through Spencer’s hair, calling his name softly. After 4 times Spencer begins to stir, his arms hugging her legs tightly before his eyes opened, he buries his face against her thing, thinking it was his pillow, but this was much more firm than his pillow. He snaps his head up quickly and realizing he was cuddling with Bridgett’s legs.

“Morning sleepyhead.”

Spencer looks up at her, his eyes still low with sleep and smiles softly.

“Hey, morning.” He unwinds his arms from around her leg, sitting up and handing her the blanket.

“Sorry I had to wake you, I needed to use the bathroom and you were kinda cuddling my leg.”

He lets out a small laugh, trying to look away from her to hide his smirk. She gets off the couch and walks off to the back of the apartment. It’s not until Spencer leans back on the couch that he realizes a problem. He was rock hard and has no idea why… well he knows why. He was inches away from using Bridgett’s ass as a pillow. He can’t even recall at what point he decided to lay his head on her. She had fallen asleep first, her leg randomly twitching every once and a while when he finally realized she was sleeping. He didn’t pass out too long after that, having enough courage to finally put his arm on her legs.

“Did you sleep okay?” Bridgett questions, bending down over the headrest of the couch.

“Yeah, no nightmares. You’re pretty comfortable.”

Idiot. Why would you say that?

Bridgett laughs.

“So don’t be mad at me, but I kinda braided some of your hair. You look pretty.”

Spencer touches the side of his hair, running his fingers over the braids. Bridgett laughs hysterically, dropping onto the couch next to him. He takes the blanket and covers his lap, trying to hide what was going on in his pants.

“I guess I need matching braids on the other side now right? I can’t go in public with one side of my hair done.”

Bridgett laughs even harder, her smile taking up her whole face, and the one dimple she had on the left side of her cheek was popping out.

God even her laugh is beautiful.

Yup, he was falling in love with his best friend.

“I got you. Your braids will be beautiful. But first, you need breakfast.”

“I need, or you need?”

He questions, turning his head to look at her, pracially scanning her face to commit to memory how beautiful Bridgett looked right now, her hair was a little messy, dark hair falling out of her bun that sat on top of her head, her skin was practically glowing.

“You need… I need… same thing. Do you have breakfast stuff or should I run to the store?”

She gets up off the couch, taking her hair out of its bun and shaking it out quickly, putting it right back up.

“Uhh... I... uhh, I have eggs and some bacon. Some veggies for the eggs.”

Bridgett doesn’t respond, but he can hear her rummaging through the refrigerator and cabinets to find all she needed. Spencer gets up, trying to adjust himself to make it look less obvious that he was basically ready to go. He walks to the kitchen, hiding his lower half behind the wall.

“Do you need any help? If not I was going to shower.”

“I’m good. But what about your braids? You’re going to take them out?” She teases, smiling at him.

“I’ll wash my hair that way you have a fresh head for you to braid my hair.” He says, trying to hide his smile. “I’ll be quick.”

Once Spencer gets into the bathroom he looks in the mirror, chuckling to himself once he sees 2 braids on the left side of his head.

The early morning hours was almost like a confirmation that he was for sure in love with his best friend. His heart had been sending him signals for months, but his brain wouldn’t listen. He was far too scared of rejection and the thought of losing her if she didn’t feel the same way about him. Yeah they slept together, but it was a one night thing. From what Spencer understood from Derek, sleeping with someone doesn’t always mean love is a prerequisite.

***

Spencer talked about a book he had finished reading the night before, throughout the whole breakfast time. Bridgett listened, trying to understand what he was talking about but it was way too far out of her mental wheelhouse to understand what he was talking about but she smiled and nodded, laughed if he laughed because Bridgett knew that the worries he had the night before seemed so much smaller now.

Bridgett sat on the couch while Spencer sat on the floor, keeping her promise and braiding his hair. She was excited and a little shocked that he kept his word and let her do it.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Technically you just did.”

Bridgett rolls her eyes sarcastically, taking the comb in her hand and gently hitting his shoulder with it.

“I’m asking anyway, smarty pants. So out of curiosity, why don’t you date? Or do you and just not tell us?”

Spencer takes a minute to think about her question, shrugging after a few seconds.

“No, I'm not hiding anyone from you guys. I just haven’t found that one girl that I find common interests with and it’s hard finding someone that understands me; my mind and how it works, the stuff I went through as a kid and why it made me the way I am. And you know, the whole schizophrenia being genetic thing isn’t exactly something women look for in a man so that’s just another thing added to the con list. And you get it, it’s hard to devote your time to someone working with the Bureau. We’re constantly gone. It’s hard getting attached to someone while you’re across the country for days, maybe weeks.”

Bridgett nods her head, taking the hair elastic and wrapping it around the end of the braid.

“Do you think you’ll find that person? Or are you content with just being you?”

“Everyone hopes they find their ‘person’, eventually. It’s human nature to want to find the person you love. But of course I want to. I would love a sense of normalcy at some point in my life. I wasn’t ever ‘normal’ growing up so yeah, I would love a wife, kids one day, all of that. Do you? Do you think about any of that?” Spencer asks.

“Oh definitely. I’ve known my whole life what I’ve wanted when I became an adult. And as I got older I knew the type of parent and wife I wanted to be. I wanted to be different from my parents both ways. I never want to make my kids feel the way I felt growing up, not important, an inconvenience, a failure. And I don’t want the type of relationship my parents have. You know about the shit I saw and I would never want to put up with that. I want to be with someone because I love them. Not because I got pregnant and needed to appease my parents.”

“I know you’ll get all of that one day.”

Bridgett beams at Spencer’s words. “I know you’ll get your ‘normal’ life, Spence. And I think you’d make a great husband and dad.”

Spencer’s whole heart fluttered at her words, wishing he wasn’t such a wimp to tell her how he felt about her right then and there. But he knew he would never do it. Not now.

“Well thanks.”

Well thanks? Compliment her back, you coward.

“I need to get going. I need to shower and I told myself I would clean my apartment this weekend. I’ve been putting that off for weeks. I’m about to not have any clothes to wear to work on Monday if I don’t do laundry.”

Do. Not. Think. About. Bridgett. Without. Clothes. Spencer. No!

“Okay, I’ll walk you out to your car.”

They walk out to Bridgett’s car, Spencer feeling a little sad that spending time with her was over even though he was going to see her Monday morning.

“Thanks for coming and taking my mind off things. And not hating me for waking you up at 3am.”

She smiles, pulling Spencer in for a hug. He wraps his arms around her, pulling her close to him.

“You’re welcome, babe. I’m always here for you. Even at 3:30 in the morning. Get some sleep.”

It took everything in him to not just grab her face and kiss her right in the middle of the street. The fact that she called him “babe” so effortlessly made him lovingly ache for her.

[dwaynepride]

slippin’ through the cracks

summary: after a fight, reader drives off into a thunderstorm.

words: 2,526

warnings: a car accident

tags: @6adb0y​ @thegoodlonelydalek​ @consultingdoctorwholock @starryrevelations @thebeckyjolene​ @diaryofafan17​ @specialagentlokitty​ @pageofultron​ @stanathanxoox​

If you were being honest with yourself, this argument has been a long time coming.

You couldn’t have ignored the growing tension between you and Dwayne even if you wanted to. The quiet moments - something that was once so peaceful - is almost a deafening silence. It’s a tension that’s akin to holding your breath to see how long you can go without air. Or watching a rubber band pulled taut, knowing sooner or later, it’ll snap and hurt someone. 

Yours and Dwayne’s rubber band - it snapped tonight. 

“You promised we’d be able to have the weekend together.”

To his benefit, Dwayne does look guilty when you bring up his promise. His eyes avert away, back down to organize the case files sorted on his kitchen table. “I know, honey. And I’m real sorry. I feel awful, but somebody from the team’s gotta drive up to Baton Rouge. And I’m the only one with enough clearance.”

Logically, you know it’s a good excuse. But when did emotions ever listen to logic? “Why can’t Hannah go?” You ask him.

“She and Naomi’s got a thing this weekend.” Dwayne’s eyes glance up for a brief second. “You know that.”

Yeah, you did know that. She’s been so excited and talking about it enough for you to remember. But even then, you can’t help that betraying stab of jealousy right in the center of your chest. Maybe it makes you a bad person, but it’s not fair to always be the one sacrificing time with Dwayne. 

Especially when he promised it.

And what’s worse, this isn’t a rare occurrence. Missed dinners, shortened dates, waking up to an empty bed. All made bitter by the fact that Dwayne had promised to make time for this relationship.

“Well, isn’t that convenient,” you mumble. Low and flat as you turn away from him. Making for the front door to leave and take a special sort of pleasure in slamming the door shut on the way out. 

But the sound of his hurried footsteps follow you instantly. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Dwayne asks sternly.

And you take this opportunity to whirl around and face him head on. Meet his hardened eyes because now the hurt is fueling a hot anger in your gut. And you really wanna take it out of something. “It means that you always seem to find some excuse to skip out on spending any actual time with me. I keep trying and it feels like you don’t even care.”

Yeah, maybe that was a cheap shot. Hitting him low and saying something you know would knock him back on his heels. And from the way Dwayne’s face pulls into a hard frown and his spine straightens, you can tell you hit a nerve. Maybe reminding him of the harder times in his failed marriage. “That’s not true, and you know it,” Dwayne replies. His voice is hard, but steady somehow. Only barely. “I do care-”

“Well, you haven’t been showing it. Just once, I want you to put /me before anything else. Especially work.”

Now, you can tell Dwayne is getting mad. He steps closer, shoulders squared, his eyes locked on yours but you don’t waver away. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but things have been pretty hectic lately. I’m /trying to make everybody happy, and if I’m bein’ honest, you’re not making it much easier,” he says.

“You’re not listening to me, Dwayne.”

“And you don’t get how much stress I’ve been under.”

“Maybe I would if you’d actually talk to me!” Finally, your voice rises up to a yell. “Nowdays, it’s like you barely want to talk about anything other than work. How do you think that makes me feel?”

And finally, he has no response. You’d like to think that maybe he knew you were right - maybe he’s noticed the drift, as well. He just didn’t want to admit that because it would mean he’s been failing as a romantic partner - again.

So, shaking your head, you turn away from Dwayne and start walking back toward the door. And this time, Dwayne says nothing to stop you. Makes no move to put himself between you and the door in some desperate need to keep you from being angry with him. That did hurt, though. Maybe more than the yelling. He never likes to end things badly after an argument.

Now, it just feels like he’s given up.

Even before you get outside, you hear the harsh roar of a thunderstorm. Out on the street, it’s louder and the rain instantly soaks through your clothes and hair. But you don’t pay the rain any attention. Right now, you barely feel it against your skin and maybe you can pretend you’re not crying as hard as you are.

Once inside your car, the roar of the rain muffles some. Enough so it’s too damn hard to keep the fight from replaying in your head. And somehow, you resist the temptation to tilt your head and look up to Dwayne’s apartment. Would you find him by the window, watching you get soaked in the rain and drive away? You tell yourself that you don’t care if he is.

The bar eventually disappears out of your rearview mirror. Soon enough, so does the city.

The rain continues beating down against your windshield, unrelentlng in its force and you try your best to focus on driving on the dark road. But your eyes are still clouded in tears, and it’s hard to pull your thoughts away from the fight with Dwayne. 

Anger was still there, rest assured. As well as the hurt, and it did hurt a whole hell of a lot - Dwayne was usually so good at knowing what the problem was. Understanding you and listening to you. Going out of his way to find out the problem so he can come up with a solution. 

But lately, it’s like he doesn’t even care. Or at least, can’t find the time.

Being so lost in your own angry thoughts, it’s only the sound of a car horn that really brings all your focus back to the present. It was loud as hell, even over the rain. Coupled with a pair of headlights that instantly blind you and turns the world into a bright, harsh white. 

As a federal agent, it's easy to pride yourself on having quick reflexes and good reactions. It’s something drilled into you during training - dealing with high-pressure situations in a fraction of a second. But now, it’s like all that training and experience flew out the window into the harsh thunderstorm. Panic gripped you tight; such a fierce hold that you carelessly yank the wheel around to avoid hitting the oncoming vehicle. 

But the rain’s made the street slick - the tires simply slide over the black pavement with little care that you’re slamming on the brakes. 

There’s a loud screech of tires before your car flies off the road. The impact tosses you forward against the steering wheel, and that’s really all you remember. The rest is just darkness and faint sounds and the knowledge that your head is pounding even if the pain hasn’t fully set in yet.

And there were little gaps of clarity - a stranger coming up to see if you were okay, the flashing lights of an ambulance, somebody asking over and over for your name or if you knew where you were. Answers didn’t come easy because everything was fuzzy and cloudy and the sound of the car horn still somehow echoed around in your skull. 

But apart from it all, there was one constant thought - you were afraid, and you wanted Dwayne there.

-

Your eyes don’t work right whenever you’re fully conscious again.

The walls, the sheets, the floor - it was all white. You could catch sounds and voices of a hustle and bustle; can understand that you’re in a hospital room without needing to see the finer details. Even then, you force your arms to move so you can rub the sleep out of your eyes.

They weigh as much as boulders. And sore, just like every other muscle in your body. But the pain is so much worse when you breathe, and the bright lights aren’t doing your headache any favors.

Your brain isn’t even running at full capacity before that familiar sense of primal fear starts to rise up in your chest, nearly knocking the rest of the wind from your lungs.

It’s a struggle to remember why the fear is there. You remember driving in the rain. It was dark as hell and you weren’t really focused on the road and suddenly there was another pair of headlights, like they came out of nowhere...

Your eyes fall shut to try and push away the memory. Everything hurts a little too much to think about it, right now. And even trying to put you on edge - when a nurse opens the door, it makes you jump nearly out of your skin.

“Oh! Sorry, honey,” she says lightly. “I was just about to check on you. How’re you feelin’?”

With the ache in your ribs, it takes a moment to breathe and calm yourself down before trying to shrug. “Sore,” you answer her slowly. “What happened?”

Her eyebrows knit together, looking sympathetic in the doorway. “Nasty car accident. You weren’t seriously hurt, thank the Lord. Worst you got is a couple cracked ribs. But I got your emergency contact here - he can tell you more about-”

“My what?”

A soft smile appears on her face, and she moves to push the door open a little wider. And from over her shoulder, Dwayne’s face appears suddenly. His eyes are wide, eyebrows pulled together in that worried-sick look that always twists your gut up tight. And for just a few seconds, he stands there. Watches you in relief before turning to the nurse. “Thanks for all your help,” he says, tone polite but it’s obvious in the way he quickly moves past her that he’s eager to get to you.

Once Dwayne is inside, the nurse closes the door. And you’re alone with him.

You were so angry with him before. Could barely even be in the same room with Dwayne - that’s why you left the way you did. Part of you wonders if you should still be mad at him because the fight is still very fresh in your mind, as much as it’s pounding. 

But seeing Dwayne - having him in the same space as you - instantly makes you feel so much less afraid. Less confused and alone. Still, your eyes fall away as he nears.

Dwayne is slow in his movements. Careful, even - as if moving too fast might hurt you somehow. But you can feel his eyes on you, as tangible as the hospital sheets. “Are you okay?” He asks you, voice soft and careful.

“I’m fine,” you tell him. And that’s probably a dumb thing to say, right now. You obviously aren’t fine and Dwayne knows that. Maybe if this were any other time, he’d scold you about downplaying your injuries; as if he never does that exact same. And you’re glad he’s not, because honestly, you don’t want another argument. Not right now. He must feel the same way. 

He takes a tiny step closer. “I, uh- they called me a couple hours ago. Told me you got in a bad wreck, and I came straight here. I was real worried-”

“You’ve been here for hours?” Your head instantly comes up to face him. Dwayne blinks at the sudden eye contact, as if it startled him. 

But his gaze is still so soft and worried. So different from before. “‘Course. You got hurt. I wanted to make sure you were okay.” And he says that like it’s the most simple thing in the world.

You try to sigh, but it pulls on your ribs and you just end up wincing hard. And even without seeing him, you can tell Dwayne is on edge, seeing you in so much pain. But you bite out your next words anyway. “I’m sorry,” you croak out.

“Sorry?” He repeats.

“That they called you all the way down here.”

Dwayne is silent. And you can only just barely take the quiet before it becomes too much and you’re finally letting your eyes rise back up to him. Dwayne has his eyebrows furrowed together, as if you’ve suddenly started speaking another language. But then he shakes his head fervently. “Listen to me: I’m glad they called me. If you got hurt - or worse - then I wanna know about it. So I can be here for you.”

He sees how doubtful you look. Like you don’t truly believe his words. It stirs Dwayne on to continue. “Listen, sweetheart, I know the fight was bad. I know you’re probably still pissed at me, and you got every right. I’ve been a real asshole, but right now, I don’t care about any of that. I came because I was scared to death and I needed to see you.”

His words are honest - you know they are. Because you know Dwayne too damn well and you know something stupid like a fight wouldn’t have been enough to keep him away. 

Knowing this, your eyes still find it hard to meet his. “I guess I just thought you wouldn’t want to see me,” you confess. 

You hear Dwayne scoff a little. And it comes as no surprise when his hand is on your cheek, gently tilting your head over and up to look at him. Now, he’s leaning in so close, you see the green in his eyes. A warm green that you didn’t even know you missed, until now. “If we’re bein’ honest here? I was scared of the same thing.” You blink in surprise, and he nods once. “Thought for sure you’d chase me right out the hospital.”

He says it like a joke, but you shake your head fervently at him. And out of nowhere, tears start building up in your eyes. The sight of them makes Dwayne frown. “No, I’m glad you’re here,” you say, voice choked back but it’s still music to his ears.

The words are barely out before you’re actually crying. Dwayne starts to wipe the tears away as gently as he could, and his words are much harder than his hands. “I’ll always come when you need me, baby. No matter how many times you storm outta my place.” Suddenly, he leans in to press a long kiss against your forehead. His breath is warm against your skin - a stark contrast from the rain. “I love you, understand? And I promise, things’ll change. No more puttin��� you on the back burner. I’m sorry - about everything.”

Words are hard to come by, so you simply nod. And Dwayne comes closer until you’re able to lean your head against his chest. He’s warm and solid and his heartbeat is slow. Helps calm down your frayed nerves and serves as an anchor. And as Dwayne’s fingers start to run through your hair, you’ve never been so happy to forgive him.

[harrysgloves]

Fine Line

>>>Catch up with the Fine Line Masterlist!<<<

word count: 2.5k

story summary: You and Harry had always walked that fine line of friends or something more. Singlemom!Reader x Harry Styles

warnings: Language // Arguments // Intimidation? 

a/n: Let me know what you think. I love feed back. Especially since I’ve been stuck in a writing rut and this seems to be the only story I can focus on lately.

>>><<<

The second those two pink lines showed up on that plastic test your whole life changed. Your whole mindset changed. A swirl of anxiety and excitement whirled around in your stomach that now housed your child.

Your child.

You squealed as you looked at the pregnancy test. No, you and your boyfriend of 3 years definitely weren’t trying to get pregnant but this was one of the best accidents that you'd ever had.

Your heartbeat fast in your chest as you laid the test on the bathroom counter. Tears leaking out of the corner of your eyes as you looked lovingly at those two bright pink lines.

You pulled out your phone, snapping a picture of the test, and sending it to two of your oldest long distance best friends. This was too much information to process on your own and you definitely needed some ideas on how you were going to tell your boyfriend.

You hadn't even had time to put your phone down when it started ringing in your hand. The vibration startled you out of your thoughts.

"Hey." You said with a big smile across your face. Grinning from ear to ear, so excited to talk about your big news.

"Don't hey me like that! Oh my god, I'm so excited!" One of your best friends, Abby, said from the other line, her voice higher than usual.

"I know me too. It was totally unplanned though. I'm not sure how he'll react." You said with a sigh, your eyes never leaving the test for long. Constantly checking back to make sure none of the lines had disappeared.

"He'll be excited or I'll punch him in the dick." She mumbled under her breath making you laugh as you took the test and hid it in a drawer in the bathroom.

"We've never talked about it before." You chewed anxiously on the inside of your cheek. Your already upset stomach growing weaker by the second.

How had you never talked about this before with him? Why haven't you?

Those pesky thoughts of him turning up his nose at children during family gatherings looming in your mind. Would he be like that with his own child?

"I'll be your baby daddy." She said, cutting off your thoughts.

"Shut up." You said with a laugh as you leaned against the countertop. Not entirely sure if you were going to barf or not with how much you'd managed to work yourself up.

"Are you at work?" You asked when you heard phones ringing in the background.

"Duh."

"You could have texted." You said sternly.

She had never taken her secretary's job seriously and you didn't blame her. It wasn’t at all what she had originally planned to do but things change when schooling costs as much as it does.

"This is not a texting moment! Besides, this place doesn't pay me enough anyway."

"Probably because you're on your phone during company time." You said, choosing to ignore her annoyed tone of voice as you made your way out of your bathroom and into the living room. Plopping down on the couch, your hand instinctively going to your flat stomach.

"How're you going to tell him?" She asked, changing the topic from you telling her off.

"Dunno. I might tell him after dinner, like make his favorite meal or something and tell him afterward."

You honestly had no idea how to tell someone they were going to be a dad. Sure, you saw those videos of people surprising their husbands with gifts and videotaping it for all of Instagram to see but that seemed so impersonal to you.

Plus, you had no idea how the hell he'd handle something like this. Would he cry? Would he leave you?

You honestly had no idea. The only sort of children interaction you two had together was the times your baby cousins showed up for your family's Christmas party and he didn’t go anywhere near them.

"Ohhh, romantic." She said you hummed your agreement as you closed your eyes. Your head was pounding with yet another headache which you now knew was because of all the hormones your body was producing.

"Maybe I could buy an onesie or something. I don't know… I'm nervous." You said, with your arm going over your eyes. You needed a nap, desperately.

"Don't be, girl. He loves you."

"Yeah, I know, just anxious. You know how guys are."

That nervous tick of yours coming through as you took your hand off your eyes to bit your nails. The state of them was gruesome.

"Don't be anxious. You've been together since college. You live together. I mean, you guys are like the dream team."

"Thanks, Abs." You sighed, pulling your hand away from your mouth and back over your eyes.

"No problem, let me know how tonight goes, okay?" She said, sensing the conversation was over as your voice grew more and more tired.

"Alright. Love you." You said with a slight smile on your face, knowing whatever happened you at least had great friends who would always have your back.

"Love you too babies and so does Jesse just remember that."

>>>

After your much-needed nap, you spent the rest of the day cleaning your apartment. Every speck of dust removed from every surface of the home you two had made together over the years.

Every picture of you two traveling to different countries wiped down. Every pillow you bought while visiting his family out of state fluffed. Every piece of furniture you two decided on together was polished.

You even managed to cook his favorite meal that his mother gave you the recipe for the last time you had been to see her at the retirement home she now lived in.

Everything was perfect.

The smell of the roast beef dinner wafted through the air in the apartment as you sat the dish on the dining room table. The tall and slender white candles burned bright in their holders. The soft warm glow from the flames dancing across the room as you sat in your chair smoothing down the dress you pulled out of the back of your closet.

It was 5:49 and the love of your life should be home any minute.

You nervously fidgeted with your hands, fumbling with your hair, tugging your dress as the minutes ticked away. Your heart picking up its pace the closer it got to 6. The sound of the door opening had you jumping out of the chair, startled but trying your best to keep a calm exterior as you turned to smile at Jesse.

His eyebrows furrowed tightly together as he took in the sight around him. His favorite dinner on the table, you dressed in one of his favorite dresses that you hadn't worn in forever. That bright smile on your face as you sauntered over to him.

"Wow, you look amazing." He said, leaning down to kiss you, his bag and coat was haphazardly thrown to the ground as he wrapped his arms around you. A smile on both your lips as he pulled you close to him.

"Didn't miss any important days, right?" He asked when you pulled back from the kiss, your fingers brushing his soft brown hair out of his eyes.

"Nope. Just wanted to surprise you with something nice." You lied smoothly, hoping he didn't notice your eyes darting away from his.

"It's perfect, baby. Thank you." He said before kissing your forehead.

You had to constantly remind yourself to not start crying from him being so sweet as you took his hand and led him to the table. He quickly walked in front of you to pull out a chair for you.

"Feel like it's my birthday or something." He said as he settled into his own chair. Eagerly dipping out a plate for both of you.

"Well, you work hard. It's nice to come home to this every once in a while." You shrugged as you picked up your fork to eat the meal your stomach and baby definitely weren’t in the mood for.

"Thank you, I know you haven't been feeling good lately, means a lot." He said with a smile as he leaned across the table to give you a chaste kiss.

"I wanted to talk to you about that actually." You said after you swallowed down the food that seemed to be stuck in your throat. Quickly downing a glass of water when he hummed out for you to continue, his mouth full of your delicious dinner.

"I'm pregnant." You said excitedly a smile on your face that quickly fell when you saw his wide blue eyes. His fork clattering against the nice China plate.

"You're joking." An incredulous look on his face as he eyed you down across the table that had suddenly started to feel more like an interrogation table.

"What? No. I'm not joking."

"You've got to be kidding." He said his voice rising as his hand brushed through his hair. Letting out a sigh as he crossed his arms to look down at you.

"No, Jess. I'm not kidding. I'm pregnant." You said yet again. His face contorting from confusion to anger, lips pursing as his eyes flashed in a way you'd never seen before.

"This is a mistake! You can't be, we use protection!" He roared from the other side of the table. His hand slamming down on the glass top so hard all the dishes clattered and clanked against each other.

"Birth control doesn't always work." You instinctively grabbed your stomach as you backed away slightly in your chair. Tears in your eyes as you looked at the guy you loved ripping your heart into pieces.

"Bullshit. You must have missed a dose or stopped on purpose!"

"I didn't stop it or miss any doses. What's wrong with you?" You asked, your voice rising as all your hopes and dreams of this night and your future together started to crumble down around you.

"I don't want a fucking child, Y/N! That's what's fucking wrong with me." He yelled as he flipped his dinner plate on the floor. Food flying across your perfectly cleaned floors and walls.

"Well, it's too late for that!" You yelled back as you stood up from your spot at the table. Tears flowing freely down your cheeks as you turned to leave the room.

Hoping time to cool down would do him some good. Help him get his head on straight. Realize this is his child.

"Abort it." He called out making you stop in your tracks.

"What?" You asked, giving him one more chance to take what he had just said back, wishing by him taking it back that he didn't mean it.

"You heard me. Abort it. I don't want it." He scoffed in an irritated tone and suddenly, like a light switch flipping, the man you cared for and wanted to spend your whole life with looked more like a monster than he did a man.

"I'm not aborting our fucking child!" You yelled at him. Your body shaking as you cried the hardest you've ever cried in your life.

"I'm not raising a kid. Either abort it or leave." He said with his head pressed firmly in his hands.

Your mind already made up as you headed for your bedroom.

"Where are you going?" He asked, following behind you as you tore a bag out of your closet and hastily threw random items of clothing in it.

"Y/N?" He asked again when you pushed by him, storming out of the bedroom and towards the front door.

"Y/N, fucking stop! What are you doing?" He yelled this time, his voice vibrating along the walls in the house you used to call home as you slipped on your shoes.

"You gave me an ultimatum." You said as you dried your eyes and opened the door. "I've made my choice."

"My things will be out by the end of next week." You said as you stared out the door towards your car. Forcing yourself to walk straight out the door, slamming it behind you.

Your heart broke into a million pieces as you drove to the only other place in the world you wanted to be. Realizing within seconds that Jesse wasn't going to come after you. He didn't call out for you, didn't follow you out the door, didn't even bother to text or call as you drove the 15 minute trip to where you were going.

Your eyes filled with tears as you stood on the doorstep with your bag around your shoulder. The tall door in front of you looming over you as you stared at. You couldn't even bring yourself to knock as you sobbed into your hands, crumbling into a ball onto the steps.

"Y/N?" The sound of your name snapped you out of your breakdown. Your head turned to see one of your oldest friends in the doorway of his house.

"Hi, Harry." You said through your tears, your hand wiping away the rivers that flowed on your cheeks as you looked up at him.

"What're doin' 'ere? Where's Jess?" He asked, stepping forward towards you, his hands wiping away the sleep from his eyes.

"I- um…" You stuttered, your eyes darting away from his. "I need a place to stay for a few days and you always said I'd have a place here."

"Course y'do. Told y'when we were 8 that I'd always have a room fo' yeh." A hint of a smile on his face that slid off the second you didn't respond.

He sighed sitting down beside you. His shoulder pressed tightly against yours as you both looked out towards the street. The city lights twinkling like stars.

"Wot happened?" He finally broke the silence between you two. Your head laying on his shoulder as you took a deep breath in, trying to remind yourself to be calm.

"I'm pregnant and he told me to abort it or leave." You said, Harry's arm wrapping around your shoulder instantly, pulling you into some sort of weird sideways hug that was tight enough to almost hurt but was the kind of hug you needed. Silent tears falling from your eyes onto his white shirt as his head rested on the top of your hair.

"So, I left." You sighed. Your body sagging as Harry tensed up behind you but you were too exhausted from the day, exhausted from the hormones, exhausted from the crying to even notice.

"Okay, let's get y'inside, yeah?" He asked you nodded your agreement as he helped you inside.

"Can you call Gem and Abs? Let them know I'm okay? They're blowing up my phone." You said once you were inside the house. Your long-forgotten bag placed by the front door as Harry locked it again.

"Yeah, I'll call 'em." He said as he took your hand pulling you to the guest room.

"Thanks, Hazza." You mumbled as you turned to face him. Your arms around him as you nuzzled into his chest.

"Always 'ere fo' yeh, Y/N/N."

[drxwsyni]

Willing ︱Yandere Dabi x f!Reader

@riarora asked: “Could you do yandere Dabi x reader where the reader is one of those people who reads yandere fanfic and knows almost everything, including how to get out, but she doesn’t want to, cause it’s weirdly her dream?”

a/n: ahh yes some good ol’ self awareness. thanks for the request bby, i really liked writing this!

warnings: violence, swearing, kidnapping, suggestive themes

(2.5k words)

_____

It wasn’t hard to tell where Dabi’s intentions lied.

You’d spent more than enough time indulging yourself in mindless scrolling, reading piece after piece pertaining to a certain genre. One that in reality wasn’t the healthiest, but my god was it ever alluring.

Maybe you were lonely, or just apathetic to the red flags that this behaviour presented. Either way, the developing relationship you had with the man was one that you were all too familiar with.

At first it wasn’t obvious―you disregarded his actions as him shamelessly flirting. Dabi had a habit of pushing your buttons, getting you flustered and squirming under his gaze. You could tell he was enjoying himself, seeing what his words did to you.

Once he got bored of the verbal sentiments it moved on to something much more physical. An arm lazily draped around your shoulder, a grip on your chin forcing you to look at him when you turned away in embarrassment. He seemed to enjoy the temporary fear he placed in you when he came up behind you only to wrap his arms tightly around your waist, pulling you firmly into his chest. Every time he did it took you a moment to register the guilty party, but one glance down at the semi-scarred arms and you knew exactly who had scooped you up. If that wasn’t enough, the hot breath against the shell of your ear as he greeted you would do the trick.

If you didn’t know any better you would’ve assumed it was just his personality. The teasing nicknames and lingering stares could be seen as endearing for the most part.

It was when certain attributes bled into the relationship were you able to pick up on the motivation behind his mannerisms.

He had a temper―that much was obvious.

It was never a problem until you idly mentioned in passing conversation that you were saving up money to move away for college. He just...stopped. You thought he didn’t hear you, but not a moment later and he was laughing at you.

“The fuck do you need college for doll? You know that shit is a fucking scam.”

To be fair you never thought he’d have such a strong opinion. As far as you knew you were just some side chick he’d like to mess with when he was bored.

“Well I can’t just keep a dead end job forever. I’d like to move on eventually―meet new people, make better money, y’know…”

The two of you were at his apartment, your back turned to him as you made something to drink in the kitchen. You jumped slightly as one arm wrapped around your waist, the other coming to rest atop the counter in front to you.

His frame leaned into yours, your hip bones digging into the countertop. “What, so you’re just gonna abandon me for some shitty frat boys and student debt?”

The idea almost made you laugh. He was partly correct―the piling debt wouldn’t be fun, but you would have to deal with it just like every other student. As for the college hookups, well it wasn’t something you had actually thought about. You were feeling bold tonight, thinking that perhaps he should get a taste of his own teasing medicine. “Aw, you're not jealous of a few college goers, are you Dabi?”

The hand that was placed on the countertop came to drift towards your face, moving a wayward strand of hair behind your ear. “No need to be jealous of people who I know I’m better than sweets. Just worried about a pretty little thing like you getting hurt is all.”

You smiled at his concern, “I’m sure I can fend for myself, thank you very much.”

The grip on your waist tightened ever so slightly. “Can you though?”

“I don’t―”

“You can barely fucking handle when I mess with you.”

You turned around at the statement, slightly offended, coming face to face with his cold scowl. “Well maybe they won’t be as rude to me.”

At that Dabi’s lips formed into a smirk. “Oh, you think I’m being rude? You’ve got no idea what those little shits might get up to.”

His gaze was piercing, something you could never look at for a long time. You dropped your head slightly and averted your eyes to something else in the room to distract you. “I’ll never know if I don’t go, not like there’s much holding me back here anyways.”

The sudden feeling of Dabi gripping your chin between his thumb and forefinger was momentarily jarring. It forced you to look up at his as he spoke, his other arm still pulling you close into his chest. “So you’re gonna let a bunch of strangers put their filthy little hands all over you? Not sure I like the sound of that princess.”

The closeness flooded your senses with the smell of smoke and cologne. You tried to put some distance between the two of you, but the counter was still pressed firmly into your back leaving no room for escape. “I’m not saying that―I just don’t see myself having a future here. I’ve gotta move on eventually.”

He gave a laugh in response, but it was closer to an exasperated huff. “Nah, fuck that. College is a waste of time, and I’m all the goddamn company you need if that’s what you’re looking for.”

“Listen, as boring as sitting through lectures sounds, I'll take it over my lame ass job any day. And no offence but you do tend to give me headaches with all the shit you put me through.” You made an attempt to move out of his grasp, but you were only met with him pushing you back into the counter quite roughly.

“You’re not going to fucking college.” He was still smirking, but the look in his eyes that was normally vibrant seemed...empty.

Well this wasn’t the turn of events you were expecting.

You liked to think you were a strong person, but his persistence in the matter was unnerving to say the least. “That’s not your decision to make.”

He laughed at your attempt to sound confident, “I can do whatever the fuck I want princess.”

His cocky attitude could almost make you scoff, if it weren’t for the subtle feeling that maybe, just maybe you shouldn’t push him.

...But where’s the fun in that?

“Whatever, I’m sure you can find someone else to annoy.” You turned back around to keep working on the abandoned drink, leaving him to settle his hands on your waist.

“There is nobody else.”

That made you feel a little better, having assumed he only kept you around for entertainment purposes before moving on to something―someone―more serious. But at the same time it was concerning―what was so special about you to him? “Well that’s too bad, I’m not staying here because some asshole is lonely.”

Dabi appeared to be amused with your attitude, hearing the low chuckle from behind you. He went back to having his arms wrapped around you from behind, leaning the side of his head up against yours.. “Aw, you sure dollface? I’ve heard I can be very convincing, bet I could get you to stay somehow.”

You shook your head at his response, “Doubt it. You’d have to do something pretty big to keep me here.”

“Well, I do have my ways sweetheart. Just not so sure you’d agree with what I have in mind.”

Threatening, but not explicit.

“That’s comforting.” This time when you moved to escape his grasp he let you, drink in hand while heading towards the living room couch. You settled on to the worn out cushions, sending Dabi a glare as he used your lap as a footrest when he draped his body across the free expanse of the seating.

Without another word on the subject he chose a movie, letting the room fall into a peaceful absence of conversation.

_____

It was only in your nature to reflect on that encounter with the scarred man, given your expanse of knowledge in regards to the certain kind of behaviour he briefly held.

To be honest it was the first time he showed any real commitment to your questionable relationship. The first time he made it clear that you were his sole focus.

It was nice, but you couldn’t help but pick up on the red flags.

He was a villain. An extremely powerful one at that. He’d mercilessly slaughtered countless people―surely that had some effect on his psyche? If there was any evidence for that, it was this. Nobody with his history just implies something so vaguely ominous without being serious.

But you would never know how serious he was if you didn’t do a little more prodding on the subject.

Just to be on the safe side, you didn’t tempt him with anything that’d make him specifically pissed over one person. If he truly was the person you thought, then you’d have to avoid being the reason he killed someone.

Instead, you took the passive route.

By now you’d given him your phone number, or rather he forced you, saying he would stop teasing you if you did so. Of course he didn’t stop, but that was behind you now.

After that night he seemed a little more...insistent. Usually Dabi wasn’t very talkative, but now he’d taken a liking to keeping up with you through text.

Sometimes it was just idle conversation, but it always had something to do with what you were doing: where you were, who you were with. The talks were still short, but he made the point to ask nonetheless. It gave you the perfect opportunity to push his buttons.

You wouldn’t answer him right away, or you’d be vague with your responses to his interrogative questions. The endeavour to irritate him did little at first, but the more you persisted, the more he got attached to you, the demanding side of his personality started to bleed into your life.

He’d get angry with you for ignoring him. Dabi wouldn’t obsessively spam you with texts―no, he preferred the few he did send to simply disturb you into replying. Warning you that this wouldn’t end well for you. That he knew you were ignoring him. That he’d make you regret acting so stuck up.

Should you have heeded these blatant warning signs? Abso-fucking-lutely.

Yet as time passed and he only got worse, the more you wanted to see just how far he’d be willing to go.

In hindsight, the idea wasn’t the best. You really were going to move away for college, start a new life, maybe meet that special someone.

But Dabi had other plans.

As much as you thought you were being delicate with his temper, his destructive practices proved that everything you had done to avoid violence was in vain.

You should have seen it coming.

He could’ve killed you―should’ve killed you―but he knew this was what he needed. You were what he needed. And the prospect of watching you slip out of his grasp wasn’t something he was ready for. But you were ready for it, and that was the problem. 

So Dabi smoked you out of the only place you could call home, along with destroying anything that’d keep you living with any semblance of independence.

The putrid smell of burning materials and, what you prayed wasn’t searing flesh, was the first to hit your senses. You were awake at the ungodly nightly hour the menace chose to send your apartment complex up in flames. If it weren’t for that you were convinced you would have perished in the fire. But Dabi probably planned for that, much like he probably planned for you to be forced out of the only exit that wasn’t being slowly cremated.

Out of the back exit and right into his arms, all the while you were still choking on the air that was riddled with deadly smoke just a few seconds ago. But he didn’t care, not when he had to stifle your screams with his hand, his other arm wrapped around your lower half, pulling you away from the complex where emergency first responders wouldn’t find you.

He let you look at the building that was gradually succumbing to the devastating effects of his quirk. You knew why he was doing it, but it still scared you.

“You see baby, this is what happens when you don’t listen to me. Take a good look at it, cause you’re never fucking comin’ back here again.” His voice was devoid of empathy, but why would he care in the first place? If anything, he was having fun with the matter.

It was your fault, you’d forced his hand. He wanted to be patient with you. Let you come to him.

But no, you had to piss him off. You deserved this for how much you put him through.

Maybe it was the lingering effects of the smoke that was making you lightheaded. Or perhaps the constricting feeling of Dabi’s arm wrapped around your throat. Realistically, it didn’t matter which was the final nail in your coffin. Soon enough you were passed out, body limp and defenceless in his arms to do whatever he pleased.

And so, when you finally came to, your predicament did not come as a surprise.

A chain wrapped around your ankle, secured firmly into the floor. You laid haphazardly on a bed in what you already knew to be Dabi’s old, fairly run down apartment.

He didn’t bother to wait for you to wake up, just leave you alone in the cold room to figure out what had happened.

But you were very aware of the situation.

This is what you wanted, right?

You pushed him. And now he was pushing back.

Out of pure instinct you gravitated towards yanking at the chains, doing anything to loosen them. Only after a few minutes of doing so you remembered just how you’d done your hair that day. Nothing special, but adorned with a few bobby pins.

And yet, when you removed one to pick at the lock, you stopped. Out of curiosity you taught yourself how to use the makeshift key to open such a device, but what was the point?

He’d only track you down if you got out. And judging by his character he wouldn’t be against some less than comfortable forms of punishment. It was clear that he wouldn’t hesitate to burn down anyone or anything in his way either. 

And when you spent so much time tempting him to do exactly this, why would you ruin it?

It wasn’t healthy, but it proved how much you meant to him. In an equally disturbing and endearing way, he cared about you. More than anyone else had cared about you before. College plans be damned, you could settle for this at least for the time being.

So you put the pins back in your hair, laying back against the firm mattress.

You didn’t entirely know what Dabi had in store for you, but that made it only the more intoxicating.

Eventually you heard the telltale heavy footsteps approaching the locked bedroom door.

You should’ve been scared. You should’ve been fighting tooth and nail to escape your bindings. But as the sound got louder, and the locks on the door shifted open, you could only think of one thing.

It was dangerous, but you still wanted to know the extent of his pent up desires. And subsequently, how you had to play your cards to reveal these traits without getting yourself or anyone else killed.

But no matter what happened, you wanted this.

[star-spangledstud]

MIND GAMES - TWO

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: Steve suggests dinner with the team. You find out you hate lying. 

Warnings: angst, mentions of violence, anxiety 

Note: Wanna be tagged in future chapters? Shoot me a message :)

SERIES MASTERLIST.

PREVIOUS CHAPTER.

A hail of half-empty wine glasses, trail mix and playing cards fly around the room when the coffee table they were stood on is flipped upside down. Your back hits the carpet with a dull thud, followed soon after by the back of your head. You wince loudly, hand reaching immediately for the base of your skull to relieve the throbbing pain that will no doubt leave you with a menacing headache for days to come.

The men in black, whose faces are nothing but a swirl of flesh tones in your peripheral, grab you by each ankle while you try to recover from your fall. They shout in a foreign language as glass shatters somewhere in one of the other rooms. Then, the sound of open gunfire and the scent of smoke and gunpowder pervade the air. You’re screaming, kicking your feet and flailing your arms wildly while they drag you along the floor, but the sound of your voice is drowned out by the shouting and the guns.

Glass and trailmix accumulate in your hair when they drag you across the room, and small pieces cut the back of your arms and legs. You’re crying, you can tell because your cheeks are warm and wet, and the tears flowing from your eyes mix with the blood of your dead family as they run down the length of your face.

The good thing is you know you’re having a bad dream, but the problem is that you’ve seen this scene unfold so many times that you’re not sure whether the memory of what happened is real or not. 

You’ve seen the scene play out well over one hundred times in your sleep. Red liquid flies through the air in slow motion, your assailants shove their weapons in your face, you try to run away but feel nailed to the ground. You’ve experienced it so many times, and have attempted to change what happens in so many instances. Still, whatever you do, the ending is always the same.

The faces of the men responsible for the murder of your family are blurry, not because you hit your head so hard you can’t see straight, but because you don’t remember what they look like. Their features are warped beyond recognition, and no matter how hard you try to focus on the words spilling from their mouths, you can’t identify any of what they’re saying. It almost sounds like you’re underwater.

In the dream, you try to remember where you are, but your immediate surroundings change every time. Sometimes the coffee table is glass, sometimes it’s wood. The wallpaper shows a different pattern each time you look at it, and the dead bodies scattered all around the room have the same undefined features as your assailants. The only thing that remains the same is the feeling of absolute hopelessness and terror as they drag you away to an unmarked aeroplane that takes you somewhere in Eastern Europe. 

Poland, maybe. You can’t remember, even though you came to spend the next seven years of your life there.

Nearly every one of these dreams is the same. It’s just you, watching scenes of your life unfold through a thick curtain of smoke that hides the most distinct, essential details. A large, gaping black hole has been punched through the part of your brain responsible for the production of memories. No matter how hard you try to fill in the blank spaces, it proves to be absolutely impossible. 

Whatever HYDRA did to erase your memories, it worked.

It’s hard to think straight when you wake up in the middle of the night, images of the dream you just had still playing before your eyes. You hoped that getting further away from the people that created those dreadful memories would allow the pictures to go away. Yet, as you sit up straight in bed, chest heaving up and down in rapid motions, you know they followed you even here, like a thundercloud continuously looming over you.

As your first week in the compound comes to a close, you find yourself slowly getting settled into your new home. With Steve practically following you around every chance he gets, the two of you take the time exploring the entire building from top to bottom. He shows you the library, the garage, the gym and the lab, and promises to take you to the theatre the next time the team hosts a movie night. 

You don’t tell him you haven’t seen a single movie in years, but the words are on the tip of your tongue while he rattles on about 21st century flicks he was forced to watch and ended up really loving.

When the two of you walk along the corridors of the compound, it’s mostly him who talks while you do the listening. You don’t mind it. It gives you time to think. While he speaks, you find yourself trying to dissect the inside of his mind. Still, no matter how hard you listen, all that comes up is silence. It’s odd not to be distracted by a second voice in your head. You’re not used to the simplicity of not having to focus on what’s coming from the other person’s mouth instead of what’s coming from their thoughts.

Each day that passes, Steve introduces you to a new member of the team. The first person you come across is Sam Wilson, who you find running on the treadmill two days after your arrival. He immediately takes a liking to you, and you end up chatting for nearly an hour straight. His thoughts are almost deafening, but his sense of humour makes up for his internal volume.

By the time Saturday rolls around, you find yourself able to chat comfortably with everyone you’ve met so far. Even Tony Stark, who appears at first to be quite wary of your presence despite giving you a place to stay, engages in conversation with you over a cup of black coffee. It’s relatively easy to befriend people when you can see straight through them, especially when they aren’t aware of your abilities.

Still, it’s odd how easily all of them have accepted you into their little bubble.

“Are you okay?”

Unease blooms in the pit of your stomach when you realize you’ve been quiet for nearly fifteen minutes, and your palms instantly begin to sweat.

“Yeah,” you quickly conjure up a smile, “just thinking.”

“About what? If you don’t mind me asking,” Steve asks softly.

“I don’t know,” you tell him truthfully, “I feel like this is all very weird.”

Sam raises a brow, “What do you mean?”

“You guys don’t even really know me,” you remind him, “and you’re giving me shelter. I’m just having trouble wrapping my head around all of this.”

“We’ve read your file,” Steve bites his lower lip, “letting you in was a collective decision, made by all of us.”

Sam nods in agreement, arms crossed tight over his chest. 

Wondering what exactly is written in this so-called file, you chuckle dryly, “no offence guys, but I think that file might be missing a few important details.”

Steve blushes, “a lot of it was blacked out. Look, maybe we should all come together tonight, have dinner or something. You can tell us more about yourself if you want.”

“Yeah,” Sam exclaims, “good idea, cap.” 

Your heart picks up, pushing your pulse while you slowly nod your head, “sure.”

“Great,” Steve steps towards his own room and places his palm on the fingerprint scanner, “we’ll let everybody know.”

Sam turns around and heads for his own room. You quickly disappear into the safety of your bedroom and slam the door shut a little too hard in the process.

“Crap,” you mutter to yourself, “fuck!”

You are not looking forward to this.

“What do you mean, you’ve never heard of Asgard?!” 

Thor’s voice booms over the sound of clinking cutlery and laughter. You slowly lift your shoulders before taking a large sip of water, allowing the cold beverage to relieve the tension in the back of your throat. 

It’s hard to keep all the buzzing internal monologues in the back of your mind, and it takes a moment for you to center yourself before you can answer Thor’s burning question. 

“I’m sorry,” you say quickly, “I just never had a chance to read up on Norse mythology. Please forgive me. I’m sure it’s a beautiful place.” 

It is beautiful, Thor pouts, I miss it. 

“I’m sure you miss it very much,” you add quickly, to which he smiles sadly. 

“Don’t listen to him,” Tony smirks, “he has a big ego and a tiny brain.”

You nearly choke on your water when he winks in your direction. You roll your shoulders to rid yourself of the tension building in your muscles and prepare yourself for the direction the conversation is headed next. 

“So, Y/N,” Tony continues, “how do you know Fury?” 

Of course you knew he was going to ask this. He’s been thinking about it for the last fifteen minutes. Still, heat rises to your cheeks when you place your glass down, and you push a few stray strands of hair from your face and tuck them behind your ear. Your heart is pounding now, but in a room full of enhanced people, including some of the world’s best spies, you know better than to allow yourself to freak out.

Steve, who’s seated right next to you, shifts in his seat. The action, albeit hardly noticeable, startles you anyway, and your eyes fly in his direction out of reflex. You think he looks nice, dressed in a cream colored sweater with his hair swooped to one side, and in a fit of insanity, you’re tempted to compliment him and ignore Tony all together. 

“I don’t actually,” you say slowly, “My mom did, before she passed away. They knew each other before SHIELD was even a thing, when they were still young.” 

“So how’d you get his number?” Clint questions. 

“My mom gave it to me be before she died, told me to call it if I ever needed help.” 

“What’d you need help for?” he continues. 

“Clint, that’s enough-” Steve says before you can answer. 

“No, it’s okay,” you gently touch his arm, “my family got caught up with the wrong people a long time ago. Since the death of my mother tensions have only gotten worse. Fury offered me a place to stay while I wait for things to settle down.”

“What kind of people?” Natasha asks while she lays her fork down. 

“I think Fury can tell you more about that than I can,” you take a bite of your potatoes, “my mom did her best to shelter me.”

Your gaze flies back and forth between Natasha and Steve, and you begin to pray that she out of everyone at this table believes your story. You’re hyper aware of every move you make, and the tension in the air is almost too much for you to bear.

The crease between Steve’s brows and his hunched shoulders make you more uncomfortable. You read the room to make sure they believe you, before picking up your glass and taking another sip of water. Slowly, the conversation dies down, and you’re left with shallow breathing and red cheeks by the time Tony and Sam begin a discussion about a video game they were playing last night. 

“Are you okay?”

Steve’s voice is soft in your ear. The unmistakable hint of concern is evident in its tone when it breaks through your thoughts, and you quickly nod as to not alarm him any further.

When you walk back to your room later that evening,  you can’t ignore the painful twist in your stomach. Your hands are tightened into fists by the time you enter your dorm, and the need to swallow away the lump in your throat is nearly overbearing. You could never tell them you used to work for HYDRA, not in a million years. They would cast you out immediately, send your ass to the curb or lock you away in a federal prison for the rest of your life before they’d let you get away with it.

You didn’t think lying to people you hardly know could hurt this much. 

NEXT CHAPTER.

Taglist:

@foxyjwls007​ @littlegasps​ @hurricane-abigail​ @idk123906​

[softboywriting]

Love Drunk | Shawn Mendes

Summary: Shawn gets drunk at Brian’s birthday party and you take him home, but not without him getting a little goofy on you. [drinking] [established relationship] [drunk shenanigans]

Word Count: 1.6k

|Masterlist In Bio|

Dealing with drunk Shawn is always a bit of a headache, but depending on what kind of drunk, it's more or less bearable. Tonight it's tequila drunk. That means forgetful, clingy and emotional. It's Brian's birthday and you're all out at a club in downtown Toronto. Drinks have been flowing all night, partying and rowdiness is at an all time high and you are sober as can be. Why? Because you're pregnant, still very early, only two months, but pregnant nonetheless.

Initially Shawn wasn't going to drink. He said he wanted to have a few beers and just hang out with the guys. Then one friend after another began buying rounds of shots, and Shawn being the fun loving guy he is, took said shots. He did check in with you though, asked if you were alright with him getting fucked up with Brian for the night. Of course you were fine with it. It's his best friend's birthday, a once a year type of thing. No problem. Until the tequila rounds started flowing.

Three hours into the party and you've lost Shawn. It's not hard, the club is packed. It's after midnight and you're feeling tired, wanting to go home and curl up, but you know you can't leave Shawn without notifying him. So you wade out onto the dance floor to find him.

A solid three minutes passe before you find Shawn, Brian and Matt dancing with a group of women. You aren't worried in the least, Shawn is loyal to a fault. He'd die before laying hands on another woman and you know that, no matter how wasted he is.

"Shawn!" You shout, voice lost in the pounding music.

Shawn flips his hair and laughs at something Matt says, clearly not having heard you.

"Shawn, hey!" You grab his shoulder and he turns, cheeks flushed and eyes glazed. "Oh buddy."

"H-hey." Shawn smiles and you raise your eyebrows. It's not just a 'hey I'm happy to see you" smile, but his flirty little smirk-y smile. He's toasted.

"I'm gonna head out okay? Get a ride with one of the guys’ Uber if you want to stay." You lay your hand on his arm and he twists his finger around a bit of hair laying across your shoulder, the other rests on your hip and he steps in, eyes raking over you. It's been ages since he's pulled these sort of moves on you.

"So soon? Can you stay a little longer? I just wanna talk." He steps in even closer and gives you that look. The one where you know he's blitzed out of his mind and trying desperately to flirt.

"I'm very tired. We can talk at home?"

Shawn's eyes go wide. "You wanna take me home? Damn."

"Shawn. You're flirting with me. Are you alright?"

"I'm perfectly fine."

You raise your eyebrows. "Uh huh. What's my nickname?" This is a test, to see what he comes up with. If it’s Honey then he’s completely plastered, if it’s Princess then he’s drunk but mostly cognizant, if it’s Sweetheart then he’s just tipsy.

"Baby?" Shaw furrows his eyebrows and sighs with a shake of his head. "Honey. You're Honey."

You let out a little chuckle. "Oh boy, you're really smashed."

"You're really pretty."

"Yep you're gone." You wrap your arms around him and he snuggles into you. "Sorry guys I'm taking him with me."

Matt and Brian protest briefly but are distracted by their lovely lady friends.

"You smell good." Shawn buries his face in your neck. "Like sunshine."

"Thank you big guy." You try to walk him toward the bar away from the crowd but he doesn't move. "We gotta go, you have to walk Shawn."

"I can't. I'm so dizzy." He grips your back and you struggle to support his weight. "I wanna go home."

"I'm trying to do that." You sigh and pull his head up off your shoulder. "But you're being difficult."

Shawn stares at you, eyes struggling to focus. "I love you."

"I love you too bud."

"I wanna marry you." He pets your cheek haphazardly. "You're so pretty."

You stifle a giggle and grab the hand on your face. "You've already done that, see?" You wiggle your fingers around his hand and he glances at the ring around your finger.

"You're married?!"

"To you!"

Shawn steps back and you reach out to catch him as he stumbles back into a group of people dancing. "Holy shit I'm married." He turns to a guy on his left and he grabs his shoulder. "I'm married! That's my wife! That's my fuckin' wife!"  

You wave awkwardly and pull Shawn away. "Come on, you're way too wasted."

"You're my wife." He coos and leans on you. "I'm so lucky."

"Mmhmm." You guide him to the exit and out to the car.

Shawn slumps down in the passenger side and you close the door. When you get in he's playing with your mirror ornament that is a crystal on a chain.

"Wanna know the best part of being married?" You ask as you make your way toward the apartment.

"Mm?" He grunts, focusing on the crystal in his hands.

"You're gonna be a dad."

Shawn is silent for a full five minutes. It's as if he's processing what you said, like it's the first time he's heard this although it's definitely not. Just as you pull into the parking garage he speaks. "Is...is it my baby?"

"Yes, it's your baby."

"Where is it?"

You park and he is staring at you. "It's still in my tummy."

"But you're not pregnant?"

"I am." You laugh and rub your stomach. "It's still just small, like a tiny grape so I'm not showing yet."

Shawn leans back and you reach over the console to grab his hand.

"Are you alright?"

"I'm so fucking drunk." He closes his eyes and he's got tears running out of the corners of them. "I need to lay down. I have too many feelings."

"Are you gonna be sick?"

"Maybe."

_____________________

Ten minutes later you get Shawn up to the apartment and in bed. He's still clothed but it's a start. He passes out as soon as he hits the mattress and you pull off his shoes and go to get cleaned up for bed.

An hour or two passes and you've showered, cleaned yourself up for bed, made some snacks for Shawn when he wakes up, and folded some laundry. The snacks are just peanut butter and celery and some carrots with cheese cubes. It may seem ridiculous but it's easier to make those and put them in the fridge where Shawn will see them than it is to deal with him rummaging the fridge and inevitably ending up with a carton of ice cream he leaves out or a bag of chips he leaves open somewhere.

"Princess?"

You turn and look up from where you're loading the dishwasher. Shawn is leaning on the kitchen island. "You're awake." He only calls you princess when he's sobered up a bit. The nap has done some good.

"Mmm."

You cross the kitchen and cup his cheek. "You feeling okay?"

"Yeah."

"I was just about to go to bed."

He closes his eyes.

You lean forward and give him a little kiss. "Come on, back to bed."

"You stole a kiss!"

"What?" You laugh, tugging his hand. "I stole it?"

"Give it back."

"Shawn."

He stumbles forward and you wrap your arms around him as he backs you into the wall. "Give my kiss back."

"How do I do that?"

"Unkiss me."

You pet his hair back and he looks so distraught. "You're serious? I can't unkiss you."

Shawn groans. "Yeah huh." He purses his lips and you give them a peck. "See?"

"Okay?" You giggle and he smiles. "Happy?"

He nods.

"Will you go to bed now?"

He nods and you lead him to the bedroom. He flops down in bed, letting out a long sigh. "I'm sorry I got so drunk."

"Why?" You sit beside him and pull back the blankets. "It's alright to get a little crazy once in a while."

"But you can't drink. It's not fun taking care of me."

"I don't mind. Like I said, it's not like this is a regular thing."

Shawn crawls up the bed and you cover him with the blankets before you get in. "I love you."

"I know. I love you too."

He traces his finger over your lips and you smile, which makes him smile in return. "How did I get so lucky?"

"I don't know," you giggle, "but I do know you need to go back to sleep. Enough talking."

He strokes your hair and pulls you against him. Now comes the clingy part of his tequila drunk mannerisms, and arguably the best part. He tangles his legs with yours and holds your chest and head flush to his body. You just curl into him and let him get this out of his system.

"We're really having this baby huh?"

You nod and he noses your hair. "We sure are."

"I hope it's a boy....no, a girl. I don't care as long as it's a human."

"A human?" You laugh. "I'm not having an alien baby unless you have a secret I should know about."

"Oh no, I've exposed myself." He chuckles sleepily. "My plans are for nothing now."

"You're such a weirdo."

"Mmm your weirdo." He rubs his hand up and down your spine. "You wouldn't change a thing."

"I sure wouldn't."

Shawn goes quiet after that, seemingly having passed out again. You're exhausted as well. In the morning he will be hung over and he will probably feel guilty and want to spoil you to make up for it, but you won't let him. He already treats you enough, it's his turn to be the one who is spoiled and you'll make sure he is.

End

--------------------

Thank you so much for reading. Please reblog and share if you read/enjoyed it. Shout out to delicateshawn for making my header pic! -A

*****Note: none of my works should be posted anywhere outside of my linked accounts. I do not give permission to repost with or without credit to my accounts. Please notify me of any reposted fics.*****

[kyloswarstars]

The Shelby Family Teleported Through Time • Part 3

„Right Into a Viking War“

Peaky Blinders • Series AU • Shelby!Reader

It seemed like all of your siblings barely had any time left for the family. You wanted to fix it all up and get back to what the Shelby siblings once were. At the Lee’s campsite you are gifted an ‚enchanted amber‘, along with the promise that it would help you get closer to your siblings again. Never did you think it would teleport you into another time: being faced by more problems than before.

Words • 4.8k

A/N • Lemme know what you think about it 🌚

TSFTTT • masterlist

/////

The sky was pitch-black. If it wasn’t for the burning houses you wouldn’t have been able to see the person next to you. Flames were making their way out of every second house, eating thatched roofs and burning people alive. Lifeless bodies were covering the ground. Desperate screams filled your ears. The smell of burned flesh instantly creeped in your nose and this time, still with the twisted stomach of your time jump, you bent forward and vomited into a corner of the dark alley.

A hand was touching your back as you gagged. It helped you sit up and get to your feet. Finn. The flickering flames all around you were brightening his face. He looked deeply worried.

None of your siblings were up for any jokes or blaming you for sending them here. Fear was winning over and made everyone step closer together. Your brothers shoved Ada and you behind their backs.

People were running through the alleys. Some tried to run away, others were running after them. Swords in their hands, mud under their boots and blood that was glueing their long hair together into big chunks.

„Please tell me this is a role play again,“ Finn spoke.

Tommy reached down to one of the many bodies and grabbed the sword from their grip. „I don’t think so.“ He examined the weapon and observed the people running past your sibling pile. 

„Did anyone of us fight with a sword yet? Except for me last night?“ You were worried and instantly wished Boomer, Eliza and Otter would’ve taught you some role play yielding techniques.

„No. But I think we will soon gain some experience,“ Tom nodded to your right. Two men were fighting at the end of the alley you were still in. Every time their swords met a metallic clicking was echoing over to you. One of them was slowly gaining the upper hand and placed several thrusts on his opponent. It took him one swift stroke to chop the other one’s head off.

Your eyes didn’t close soon enough to prevent yourself from seeing the head fall to the floor and rolling away.

The winner was turning around, spotted you and hurried over, driven by his blood frenzy.

Arthur grabbed a sword up himself, just in time for when the stranger reached you. He brought it up into the air, his arms shaking with not being used to the weight of the sword. Metallic clicking was ringing in the air when their swords met. Your oldest brother tried to parry the hits but the stranger was a warrior. He did to Arthur what he was probably doing for a long time now.

You closed your eyes again. You couldn’t see Arthur’s head fall to the floor as he tried to protect his siblings. That was something you wouldn’t be able to forget for the rest of your life.

An extremely loud gunshot next to you let your eyes fly open again, though. John was standing there with the rifle to his shoulder. In the chaos of the moment you forgot he still had that gun.

Arthur’s opponent was sinking to the muddy ground. He was dead. „Gun fucks sword,“ John stated with the smallest of a smirk.

„Fuck!“ Arthur wasn’t able to keep himself on his feet. He knelt down next to the dead man. „Who is the fucking enemy here, eh? This guy?“ First he pointed at the body in front of him, then to the one without a head at the end of the alley. „Or that guy?“

„When are we, Tom?“ Ada was stirring beside you.

Tommy knelt down next to Arthur. „That one looks like a Viking to me.“

„Bloody Vikings?“ John was losing his shite agin. „Can’t we just go back to our friends with the cardboard swords?“ He came over to you, an arm around your shoulders. „Can you bring us somewhere else?“

You closed the fist around the amber but it was pointless. Within this mess you would never be able to concentrate.

Ada and Finn were talking to each other in low voices. She seemed to calm him down.

A sudden voice startled you. „Who the fuck are you guys?“ When you turned and saw an armoured man coming to a stop in the dark alley, Arthur, together with Tom this time, stood up and held the sword in front of him. The stranger was looking at you closer, almost a little amused. „Travel theatre?“

„Are you the enemy?“ Arthur was still shaking but that wouldn’t hold him back from taking a second try at sword fighting.

„Fuck no. I’m just trying to save my own arse and get away from here. So, travel theatre?“

„Yes.“ Ada called out. Was she trying to lead the conversation again? To be honest, she had done a pretty good job back in the 21st century.

For a while the stranger was checking the surroundings and then observed you and your siblings again. „If you’re fast runners I can help you out of town if you want.“

The chances to die in this burning shithole were fifty-fifty. You had to get out for a fair chance at teleporting you to another time, or hopefully home. Tom shot a glance at you with a question mark imprinted on his face. You just nodded.

„Ok,“ he said to the stranger. And to the rest of you: „Everyone grabs a sword.“ You did as you were told. You knelt down into the cold mud to one of the countless dead people. Their fingers were already stiff around the hilt. You forcefully removed them with a whispered ‚sorry‘ on your lips. When you got back up, you spotted their belt with the scabbard attached to it. Once again, you knelt down, unbuckled the belt and yanked it free from under the lifeless body.

With the belt around your waist, and when everyone else had a sword too, you hurried after the stranger. He led you out of this alley and through many other ones. So many slaughtered people were plastering the way, the blood had seeped out of their bodies. You were unable to tell what outweighed: blood or mud on the ground. 

Your pulse was roaring in your ears and made it hard to understand the stranger’s voice, whenever he told you to follow as he changed directions.

He took a detour through a burning house. Some flames suddenly burst down from the roof as you left the single room into the backyard. They almost caught over to your clothes but someone pushed you. You fell to the ground, the smell of burned hair in the air, but out of range for the flames.

„Y/N!“ Finn helped you up, checked you for burnings, then grabbed your hand when he didn’t find any and hurried with you after your siblings.

It felt like it was never ending. You kept running even when you made it to the last house. You kept running when you left the wall behind your backs, which initial purpose to protect the village had failed. The screams of dying people let your feet continue to run, even though they grew distant when you reached a forest nearby. The stranger willingly guided you in. He repeatedly cursed, whenever a branch hit his face in the darkness, and kept up the high pace. You hadn’t done nearly enough boxing sessions at King Maine’s to keep up with that. Not without your lungs feeling like they were close to give out. Which brought up the question as to why this man was so good with running. Maybe he was a thief and running away was part of his job.

At some point you fell into a jog instead of the running. It was easier that way but not less tiring. The trees and their shadows were constantly surrounding you. The sounds of cracking branches under your steps were fading but it didn’t fully reach you until you ran into one of your siblings.

The stranger had stopped and everyone else had too.

„This should be five miles. We should be good.“ At least his voice seemed exhausted as well.

„No one will come after us?“ You heard Arthur ask but couldn’t pin down which of the shadows was him.

„Not tonight,“ the stranger responded. „Not when there are still women to be taken, ale to be drank and silver to rip out of the church.“

John’s voice was as breathless as your lungs felt. „Who are they?“

„What do you mean?“ The stranger was laughing at him. „Those are the fucking Danes.“

„Vikings,“ John pointed out, probably remembering Tommy’s words back in the alley.

The stranger laughed again. „Doesn’t matter what name you call them. Fucking barbarians, all of them.“

This pitch-black night, in a time where Vikings were all over England, which probably wasn’t even England yet, was creeping into your bones. One hand was wrapped around the amber, your other hand around the hilt of your sword. You had put it in the scabbard and it was dangerously dragging you to one side, constantly letting yourself fight for your balance. That thing was way too heavy but you wouldn’t dare to loosen the belt and put it away. Not after what you had seen in the village.

You wanted to go home. So bad. Your fingers were tight around the amber and your eyes shut. No twist appeared in your stomach, no dizzying headache.

„Well, thank you for bringing us out. We’ll head our way then.“ Tommy’s voice was cutting through and ripped your focus from the amber.

„Who said you could go? I didn’t.“ The stranger laughed once again, but this time it didn’t sound that devilish. Maybe he was just amused with what stupid folks you were. „I helped you, now you’ll help me.“

You heard some noises from below. Leaves and branches getting brushed together. Some clicking soon after. Not that metallic clicking of swords, though, more dull.

When a small flame came to life, being ignited by the stranger, it was as intense as the sun during daytime. Your eyes were blinded for a while until you eventually got used to it. It was relieving to see the outlines of your siblings faces again.

„We’ll crash down here for tonight.“ He sat down next to the flame and shoved more branches to it to let the fire grow. „My name is Alfred and if you don’t want to say your names that’s alright. But you’ll help me steal a horse and some other necessities I need, so I can travel south to Wessex.“

Tommy didn’t sat down, so none of the other Shelby’s did either. „Is this theft involving fighting?“

„It might.“ The stranger with a name now, Alfred, got rid of his sword and tried to close his fur coat tighter around his body. Seeing him warm his hands at the fire, with the adrenaline in your veins slowly subsiding, the coldness kicked in and sent shivers from your feet all the way up to your neck.

„We don’t know how to yield a sword.“

„Then I’ll show you.“ Alfred slapped his hand to the ground next to him. „What are you waiting for? Sit down.“

Your siblings waited for Tommy to make a decision. Your mind was circling around the words ‚behave, adapt, survive‘. Alfred thought you were travel theatre people, so you should behave like some.

Tommy sat down and everyone followed his example. Him and Ada were trying their best to pretend you were who Alfred assumed you were. He was talking about the Danes who had come to raid the town and that he had been too long in the North already. He asked where you were originally from. Ada, even amid the exhaustion of this day, was giving the best answer possible: „We’re a travel theatre. We travel, we don’t have a home.“

„And you always carry your belongings with you in those tiny bags?“ Alfred referred to the plain jute bags Eliza had given to each one of you. You had stuffed the sweatpants, she had given to you, in yours. As well as two stones. You had picked up a pebble stone as you sat in the bushes when that Roman cohort was passing by. And one from the parking lot as you went grocery shopping with Eliza in the 21st century.

Tommy was still nervous. „We like to be prepared, which seems to be a good thing when Danes are suddenly appearing.“

„Clever, should’ve thought about that as well. Then you wouldn’t have to help me get new things.“ He was laughing at his own statement. You didn’t like him at all. Sure, you were thankful he had guided you out of the flames, but you didn’t like sitting on this cold soil around a fire with this stranger.

It seemed you didn’t really have a choice for now, though. 

You slid closer to Finn who sat next to you. The night was getting colder minute by minute as you didn’t move around anymore. He laid his arm around you and pulled you into him. It was a little better for a while, but once the cold took over your body completely, it didn’t leave you anymore. You froze with your teeth clattering and noticed your siblings doing the same. Alfred’s fire was as effective as a candle.

/////

When the sun rose and covered you in its light, the shivering, which had followed you all through the night, finally lessened. You were entangled with Ada and Finn under your coats. A couple of times you fell asleep, but each time not for very long. You always woke with the image of all those lifeless bodies on the ground. The sword you stole from one of them was laying at your feet. And when the first daylight had brightened the people around you, your eyes were fixed on Alfred. He laid knocked out on the cold ground like nothing had happened. How many of those raids did you have to witness for it to become less haunting? You didn’t really want to know the answer.

Arthur and John decided to hunt some breakfast right after they woke up. Your empty stomach was crying out demandingly when the word ‚breakfast‘ fell. Their commotion woke up the rest of your siblings and Alfred.

Ada and Finn removed themselves from your arms where they’d been sleeping in last night. Your limbs were hurting as you moved for the first time in hours, so you got up on your feet to stretch your muscles.

„Y/N.“ Your sister gasped as she stared at you. She got on her feet as well. „There’s blood all over you.“

You didn’t get hurt last night, you were sure of that. When Finn pushed you away from the flames you fell, but you didn’t hurt yourself. So… the blood Ada was talking about must be from the dead.

Close to vomit again, Ada grabbed your hand. „Alfred, do you know if there is water somewhere?“

He observed the surroundings and tried to remember where you were. „I believe there’s a small stream in that direction.“

Ada instantly dragged you along, following the direction Alfred’s hand had gestured in.

You hadn’t noticed you had blood on yourself. Your siblings didn’t either last night with the little light the fire had brought.

The nausea in your stomach wanted to escape, but when you bent forward as you supported yourself at a tree, nothing came out. The gagging was worse when there was nothing left in your stomach. It brought hot tears to your eyes and it also brought back the screams of the dying people.

Ada dragged you further until she found the stream.

You hurried into it, not caring about your clothes that got soaked wet or the freezing water temperature. Your hands frantically splashed water to your face and tried to wash the blood all off. Along with your skin as it seemed by how forcefully you were scratching at it. You couldn’t stop yourself, though.

„Y/N.“ Ada grabbed your arms and held you still. „It’s okay. Let me help you.“

She guided you to a stone and sat you down on it. Ada pulled a handkerchief from her pocket, dipped it in the water and softly rubbed it against your temple.

Due to your rapid way of getting rid of the blood your clothes were all soaked now and your hair wet. Your body started to freeze again, after having a way too short time not doing so. Maybe you were also crying because that hot sting in your eyes didn’t stop. You didn’t understand why this was so upsetting. Back home you had seen a lot of blood as well, some dead people too, that was what came with being a Shelby. Here, this cruelty had a whole different impact.

„It’s okay,“ Ada repeated.

„It’s not.“ Pictures were flooding your vision again and they didn’t go away with shutting your eyes. „There were children. Dead on the ground.“

„I know.“ Her head hung low. Did she think about Karl? Did she think about all those mothers who lost a child last night? But those mothers were probably dead as well.

She continued washing the blood off of you, rinsed your hair once more and then walked back to the others with you.

Ada told Finn to collect some wood and start a decent fire, so you could dry yourself at it. At first, when Finn had managed to create a way bigger bonfire than Alfred the night before, those images were rushing back at you once more. You remained sitting there anyway and tried not to think about it with a fist tightly closed around the amber to help soothe your mind. Only when Arthur and John came back with two dead squirrels and a tiny rabbit, your brain was finally able to focus on something else. Their loud voices, bragging about how they hunted the animals with only their knives, was a welcoming distraction.

Your hunger came back when they roasted the animals over the fire. And it was relieving to finally assuage it.

Arthur chewed every last bit of meat off the bones. John was laying on his back again, floating in probably the same relief you felt. Tommy was talking to Alfred, but you couldn’t hear their conversation. Ada and Finn were sharing a rabbit leg and kept the fire burning.

„Time to teach you how to fight.“ Alfred finally said, putting an end to your breakfast gathering. It was foreign to receive a command from someone other than Thomas Shelby. But Tom followed his words, so everyone else did too. Behave, adapt, survive was the great motto.

It wasn’t actually swords you learned how to fight with. Alfred told you to cut some branches off a tree, remove the leaves and use them as swords. The first well-reasoned words you heard leaving his mouth.

Finn was your training partner when you mimicked the way Alfred was yielding his sword. You placed hits at Finn’s neck, his stomach, his chest, fake-cut his leg off and received the same in return. It reminded you a lot of your childhood, when you snuck out into the woods and pretended to be knights with your twig swords.

It was fun. The circumstances under which you learned how to yield a sword were not. 

„Y/N, help me find some more squirrels to roast over the fire, eh?“ Tommy, with a leaf less branch in his hand, came up to Finn and you. Alfred was occupied with Arthur, giving Tommy the opportunity to shoot one of his demanding looks at you.

„Sure,“ you replied, sensing that it wasn’t only the squirrels why he wanted you to come along.

Tom loudly announced you would go look for some lunch and then walked away from your little campsite.

He actually did look out for some animals crossing your path, a knife in his hand to throw if a chance would come up. You pulled your small knife out of your sock to increase your chances.

„How are you, Y/N?“ When you had left your siblings and Alfred behind, and couldn’t hear them anymore, Tommy stopped in his tracks and turned to you.

Was he being serious? „I don’t know, how are you?“ The sudden anger which filled you with his question and caused you to snap at him, subsided immediately again because he was indeed serious. „I feel guilty,“ you admitted and walked off, looking for food. You missed the 21st century supermarket a lot right now.

„About?“ Tom came after you.

„Everything. I mean it’s clear you and the others blame me for getting us in this mess – which is totally justified because I am the one to blame here.“

„Y/N–“

„And last night–“

„Y/N, stop it.“ Tommy grabbed your arm and stopped you from walking away again. „None of this is your fault. You couldn’t know what would happen with that amber. Your intentions were… brave.“ His hand pushed back his hair which had already grown out some. „Everyone knows we’re not the same anymore. No one admitted it, though. You were the one who wanted to change something.“

Thomas’ confession somehow caught you off guard. „If everyone’s aware of it why am I the only one who wants to change something then?“

„Because you’re the bravest out of all of us, I guess.“ A smirk was appearing on his lips.

„Sure, Tom.“ You rolled your eyes at him and continued searching for squirrels. They weren’t easy to be found and you wondered how your clumsy brothers John and Arthur were able to cull two of them.

A hedgehog was the only animal you laid eyes on. And you pushed Tom away when he wanted to throw his knife at it. „Don’t you dare,“ you half-laughed and continued the hunt.

Tommy successfully threw his knife at another small rabbit not long after the hedgehog incident. And it stayed with that animal. It wasn’t the time of day for the forest animals to stroll around and wait to be killed.

„Y/N,“ Tommy held you back when the voices of your siblings came into earshot again. His face was wearing the expression you had waited for: the initial purpose as to why he wanted you to accompany him. „I’ve talked to this Alfred. He’s a lot of trouble. When you’re ready, try to get us away from here, eh?“ Your hand automatically reached for the amber around your neck. „I don’t want any of us getting killed helping him steal whatever comes to his mind.“

You nodded.

Lunch. More sword training. Dinner, after Arthur and John came back from hunting. Again with squirrels. How? And a bonfire, not made by Alfred, which would keep all of you warm this night.

One hand was around the amber, your other one was fumbling with the burned hair on your left side. You pulled the knife out of your sock and handed it to Ada.

„Can you make this go?“ You tugged at the burned hair with a questioning face.

„I never cut hair before.“

„I don’t really care. Just make the burned parts go away, okay?“

She nodded with a tiny smile and shuffled to sit behind you. It would’ve been easier to have scissors but Ada seemed to do well. She first cut off the tips of the burned parts and then tried to even it to the same length on the right side. You couldn’t see yourself but the fact alone, that the burned parts were gone and couldn’t remember you of that night anymore, was good enough.

John crawled over to you. „Oi, clean up my hair too?“

Arthur joined as well. „And mine?“

„I can try?“ Ada offered. You could feel she wasn’t sure about it. Their signature haircut was something complete different than your hair.

„Well, I’ll take Y/N for my hair. She’s better with a knife,“ John smirked. „No offence, Ada.“ Your brothers moved to sit in front of Ada and you. John gave you his knife, which was way bigger, because Ada already started on Arthur's hair with your knife.

Usually, John kept his hair combed back. Since you had left your Birmingham he hadn’t been able to do that really, so his curls created one big mess. You didn’t know what to do about that, so you decided to only shave the sides.

Pushing the blade to his skin and dragging it along, you were slightly scared to hurt him. And him constantly fidgeting around didn’t make it any better. „John Boy, stop moving for fuck’s sake,“ you whispered, highly concentrated to follow the line of his hair. He obeyed and let you finish one side. The other side was done pretty quickly as well, faster than Ada was with Arthur’s hair. Having a bigger blade was probably the only reason why.

„I mean the hair is gone,“ you stated, not really able to decide if the result was better than the mess before.

„It looks fine,“ Ada endorsed with a smile. You handed her John’s knife for the rest of Arthur’s hair.

„Can you fix up mine too?“ Finn’s voice was full of hope. Ada and you just looked at each other for a second, thinking exactly the same, and broke into a small laughter.

„Sorry, Finn. We ain’t gonna repeat that sin of a middle parting.“ As his twin sister you were permitted to tell him his middle parting wasn’t really suiting him, weren’t you? You liked his curls, your mother had granted him, way too much. „Time for you to get a real Blinder haircut I suggest?“

„Who even told you that middle parting was a good decision?“ Ada dragged him over and sat him between the two of you, tugging at his hair to think of a way to tame it.

„Arthur did!“ Finn pointed at him and almost got up to throw a punch at him, realising that Arthur probably didn’t suggest it in all honesty.

Arthur broke into laughter, this real loud laugh coming from deep inside his chest. It was infective. „Wanted to see how long he’d look like an idiot until he realises.“ His voice was cracking a few times, unable to bite back the laughter. „Didn’t happen yet.“

„Not cool, Arthur,“ you called him out.

He didn’t care, though, still laughing and joking with John about it. Ada started to work on Finn’s hair, having a harder job this time to shave his sides because his curls made it hard to cut a straight line.

„Tom, you want me to fix yours too, now we’re at it?“ You had helped Ada with your own knife this time and looked from Finn’s hair to Tommy. 

„Don’t worry, I’m handsome no matter what my hair looks like,“ he stated in all seriousness and for a few seconds everyone froze. You stared at him blankly and then, together with your siblings, even Tommy himself, you broke into the hardest fit of laughter you had in a long time.

You had such a good time that evening. Fixing your brothers hair had been something you had never done before, but the trust they had offered you made you happy. Tommy was all for jokes that evening and everyone joined in. Even Alfred was a bearable company tonight. He had been hunting and brought back a satisfying dinner.

Finn asked you why you didn’t tell him earlier that the middle parting looked odd. To be honest: It wasn’t your place to tell anyone how they should look like. And you didn’t really know why you had done it today. There was nothing wrong with him wearing his hair the way he liked. You knew, though, he was too much depending on the personal opinions on others. He shouldn’t be, though. Other opinions didn’t matter as long as he felt okay with himself.

Your heart was a little lighter today. Throughout the day you had been able to ban the pictures of the previous night. When the sun began to sat, they slowly crept up on you again, dancing in the flames of the bonfire.

The fist around the amber was tight. You were the only one able to save your siblings from whatever Alfred wanted you to do for him. You wanted to be stronger, together with them. Just not in the sword yielding way if possible. You wanted to go home. And you wanted your siblings to have more peace. You wanted more of those joking nights.

One of your siblings gasped in the exact same moment as your stomach started to twist. Your eyes were closed as you almost gladly welcomed your head hurting like it could explode any second.

When you opened your eyes again, you couldn’t believe what they were looking at. You knew those surroundings too well. Charlie’s Yard.

/////

Tag • @theshelbyclan​ 

[peaceoutofthepieces]

Sink Or Swim

tag list: @cleocc @feeling-kinda-so-so @hopelessromanticvirgo @dreamy-slytherin @adora8 @lockerfivethreefive @painfully-oblivious @poeticinemaa @jjustonemorething @saraben00 @wedarkacademia @coolguyssyndrome @hischbabe @suckerforsobbe @tayspots @starmansander @theah0lt @zoenneforever @invisibleme @chibibanane

~^~

Friday, 21:12

Song: Kygo, Haux - Only Us

Jens has no idea where he’s going. He’d snuck out the back in the hopes it would at least give him extra time, but he hadn’t really thought of where he would go after that. He realises, now, as he’s creeping around the house, that it would have been a lot simpler to head straight for the front and run. His fear had simply been getting stopped at the front door, but the car has only just made it up the street.

His best option now is possibly hiding, but he, again, has no idea where to go. He’s berating himself for how slow both his mind and body are moving, but it’s not doing anything to help. He feels lost and panicked and shaky, his focus still back inside as he reacted automatically while his thoughts went racing. They’re still running now, spinning and churning and beginning to give him a headache, and he can only suck in a breath and try to fix himself in the present.

His head is a wreck.

He notices the light flashing towards him too late, and he only has a moment to seize up in panic before an arm is clasping his chest and pulling him bodily to the side. He stumbles into another body and then the wall, letting out a startled noise, before a hand slips over his mouth and someone is hissing at him to shush.

He blinks and finally focuses in on Lucas’s profile.

He’s pulled him into a small alcove created by the outcropping room at the side of the house, pressing them into the shadows together. Jens needs a few seconds to take him in, and then he’s swallowing at their proximity and his lips brush Lucas’s hand and he thinks he might lose it.

What am I thinking? What’s wrong with me?

“Are you just waiting around to get caught?” Lucas hisses at him.

He begins to mumble a response, and Lucas presses his hand more firmly over his lips and gives him a severe look. Jens smiles, because he knows Lucas can’t see it. They wait with baited breath as the flashlight skims across the wall next to them, and then they wait still.

They stand silently for a few minutes before Lucas chances peeking his head around the corner. Jens finally relaxes when he lets out a sigh of relief, but regrets the loss of contact as Lucas lets his hand drop.

“Does this make me the damsel in distress?” Jens still keeps his voice low. It’s too easy, with Lucas still so close.

Lucas still starts as if he’d yelled at him, but then he’s huffing out a laugh. “It makes you an idiot who can’t be trusted by himself for five minutes.”

“So either way, it’s good that I have you.”

He regrets the words instantly, as Lucas begins to examine him and his mind returns to mush. What had happened, inside? The sensations all blur together, lips on his and hands in his hair and none of it Lucas, but blue eyes locked onto his and the center of all his focus anyway. He thinks of Jana, and his head spins under the confusion, his stomach churning with the weight of trying to figure it out, and he has to close his eyes.

Then Lucas mumbles, “At least you know you’re lucky,” and Jens opens his eyes to find him smiling.

Fuck, he’s pretty.

Stop.

“I can repay you by walking you home?” Jens steps back out into the street, doing a quick sweep of the space before beckoning Lucas after him, hoping he doesn’t sound too hopeful.

“Or I can walk you and avoid being pathetically early for my curfew.”

“You’re taking the whole Prince Charming thing right up until the end, huh?”

Lucas falls into step beside him as they make it out onto the road and side-eyes him. “What makes you think I’d try to charm you?”

You don’t have to, Jens thinks, and then he shakes it away. He can only answer with a shrug. He feels a little awkward, now, walking alongside Lucas, after their weird moment at the party. It’s even weird to think of it as a moment. Every time he thinks about Lucas, it’s weird.

“You seemed charmed enough back there, anyway.”

Jens feels like the breath has been punched out of him, and he can’t quite believe Lucas has brought it up. He isn’t quite ready to go there.

Is Lucas really going to—?

“I didn’t know you and Jana were a thing again.”

Oh.

Now, Jens feels the urgent need to correct him. “We’re not. I don’t actually know what that was. I wasn’t expecting it, and I definitely would have never initiated it.”

Lucas glances at him. “No?”

“Jana and I...it wouldn’t be a good idea. I’m not sure it ever was.” Jens sighs, looking over at Lucas as he explains. “Do you remember at lunch the other day, what Moyo said about us?”

“That was about Jana?”

Jens nods, running his tongue over the roof of his mouth as he looks back down at the sidewalk. “I was dating her best friend, Britt, first. And Jana and I got together before I broke up with her.”

Understanding comes to Lucas quickly. “You cheated.”

“Yeah,” Jens sighs. “It was just...kind of shitty, with the other girl, and I know it’s not an excuse, but...it was easier with Jana. And the universe has had its payback, so, I’ve learned from my mistakes.”

“What do you mean, payback?”

“Our relationship was never honest, and it fucked a lot of things up for Jana. She lost her friends, and it was hard on her, and she didn’t trust me. I was lying to her, though. Except she thought I was cheating on her with Britt, and I was actually buying weed off Britt’s brother,” Jens huffs. “I still don’t really know what the fuck happened, but she...she ended up cheating on me.”

Lucas’s brows shoot up. “Fuck.”

“Yeah.”

“That’s more complicated than I expected.”

“And I haven’t even told you yet that she was then the one to break up with me. Then kind of have a relationship with the guy she cheated with. I actually thought they were still having a thing, but now...I don’t know what I’m supposed to think.”

“Ouch. That’s something else, Jens.”

“Yeah, well. I probably deserved it, I guess.”

Lucas grabs his arm and pulls him to a stop. “Hey, no. That’s stupid. Jana was in it with you at the start. You took the risk together. It doesn’t make her hurting you with someone else right.”

Jens feels his heart flutter again at the intensity in his gaze, the firmness in his words. The fierce care that seems to emanate from him, always, even for Jens. For the most undeserving. “Well, that’s why I’m trying not to be stupid again. We’ve talked about it before, and I thought we agreed that we’re past it. I don’t know what happened tonight. But it didn’t happen because I wanted it to.”

He watches Lucas’s throat bob as he swallows. The air thickens. “No?”

Jens shakes his head. He doesn’t make the conscious decision to take a step forward, but there’s suddenly less space between them. Lucas has to look up at him, like this, and Jens finds that he likes it. He likes the way his curls fall back, just slightly, and how his jaw slackens, staying soft, and how the line of his throat seems longer, more exposed, and how he keeps his eyes firmly on Jens’s, always. It sends a tiny thrill through him, and then Lucas’s eyes drop to his lips.

It’s only a split-second glance, but it’s enough to take Jens back to the party and remind him exactly how not-weird it felt, when his thoughts stumble to a halt.

The only thought going through his mind now is that he needs to get closer.

He leans in, and Lucas’s head falls back farther, but he strains up to meet him, and Jens’s heart climbs up into his throat.

Then the sound of a phone ringing snaps the world back into glaring focus and leaves them springing apart.

Jens fumbles at the pockets of his coat, trying to remember which one he’d slid his phone into. By the time he has pulled it out, the ringer has stopped and Lucas is a good foot away from him, crossing his arms over his chest to fend off the cold. The missed call is from Lies, and it only takes seconds for a message from her to come through instead.

heard about the party. you better not be getting arrested rn

Jens snorts, even as his gaze flickers back up to Lucas in regret, the lost moment still lingering between them. Lucas’s smile is soft, and Jens is hit suddenly with the truth of his slow realisations.

He can’t deny it anymore. The desire floods him, suddenly, to kiss Lucas, and he can’t turn a blind eye. He’s never felt anything like it.

It makes his pulse quicken and his heart race and he kind of wants to throw up.

“My sister heard about the cops. She’s just wondering if she’s going to have to come bail me out.”

Lucas laughs, and Jens marvels at the way everything he does seems so soft, suddenly, before gathering his wits enough to text Lies back.

“We should probably get you home, then,” Lucas says, and Jens agrees with the utmost reluctance and a gentle smile of his own.

The wreck of his head feels a little like it’s been set on fire, but for now, he has no problem letting Lucas burn him up from the inside out.