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blondiebarnes · 4 years ago

Text

in the middle

summary: steve and bucky just got home from a tough mission, and you’re determined to make them feel good.

pairing: steve rogers x bucky barnes x reader

warnings: smut! threesome, male & female receiving oral, established relationship, cumplay, basically just porn

word count: 6.5k

For the most part, you’ve gotten used to being by yourself when Steve and Bucky are on missions.

You don’t like it - not in the slightest - it goes without saying that you’d love nothing more than to go on missions with them when they’re called in the dead of night but it hardly, if ever, works out that way. They’re nearly always sent together (Fury says they balance each other out, and you’re not exactly sure you know why or how but you’ve learned to accept whatever your director says at face value) and you’re generally excluded from their missions. They get too protective, can ignore the objectives of a mission when you’re in danger, and it’s a sweet sentiment but you know it’s an issue, even if you appreciate it.

And you are used to it. Really, you are. It’s been a year of having them called off in the middle of the night, leaving you sleeping in bed with a lingering kiss to your forehead as you dip out the door - occasionally they’ll wake you up (usually Bucky, because he tends to be a bit more sentimental, though he’d never dare to admit it) and give you a proper kiss, but for the most part you simply wake up in a too-large bed that’s void of the two super soldiers sandwiching you between their warm bodies, and it never fails to feel any more jarring.

That’s what happened Friday. You simply woke up on a day like any other and they were gone, leaving nothing but ruffled covers and a small sticky note pressed to your cell phone in Steve’s scribbled handwriting, telling you that it shouldn’t last more than the weekend and we love you so much and a small smiley face that looks to be more of Bucky’s doing, but you can’t be sure.

It had been a long weekend.

Movies and books and making dinner, and work had been so slow recently with no new missions on the come-up that you need to be called away on, so you’ve been primarily holed up in your apartment watching the time tick by and waiting for your boys to come home. You’d even called Nick at one point, in your boredom, to inquire about how their mission was going, and he told you (paraphrased, of course) that they were doing just fuckin’ great and should be home by Monday, and Monday couldn’t have fucking come any slower.

You’ve been lying awake for nearly three hours since you settled into bed on Sunday night, covers pulled tight against your chin to protect yourself from the January cold that nips at your skin, even after you’ve set the thermostat to 71 degrees. Steve likes it cold - Bucky warm - you laugh at the irony of it, much to the latter’s chagrin - and you prefer it being right in the middle.

The TV plays on mute a rerun of some old movie you’ve never heard of, black and white film running rickety slow and glitching, though you’ve long since given up paying attention to it. You’d been on Pinterest for an hour before getting bored and plugging your phone in on your nightstand, and you’d begun flipping through one of Steve’s favorite books he loves to read to you sometimes, and now - you simply gaze at the ceiling in your boredom, fingers interlocked on top of your stomach, boredom settling in every crevice of your body.

You’re not sure what, exactly, you’re waiting awake for. Not even sure if you’re waiting or simply unable to sleep - it feels like a 50/50 situation, at least at the moment - but there’s still something inherently wrong with sleeping in bed without your boys. Curling into Bucky’s chest while Steve is pressed to his back, the latter’s hand wrapped around to rest on your lip while a metal hand slides up your shirt, cupping your breast just to hear the way you squeal at the chill - or, alternatively, sandwiching yourself between them as Steve practically throws his mass on top of you and Bucky squishes your face into his hard back.

Empty. You feel empty, in more ways than one, and that’s what’s keeping you awake, you decide after a long fifteen minutes of contemplating on it. Your boys complete you. It’s not right without them -

Just as the thought crosses your mind, you hear the front door knob jiggling from across the apartment, and you jerk upright as though someone had doused you with freezing cold water (not that it would be much of an adjustment from the temperature your apartment feels, but the implication still stands.)

If you were smarter - or perhaps less groggy - maybe you’d dig through your nightstand for the gun you keep in case of any intruders, buried beneath notebooks and stray pieces of paper decorated with small smudged sketches that Steve puts on any smooth surface he can find. It’s loaded and ready to go - all you’d need to do is dig through and grab it, creep outside the bedroom door and take down whomever may be invading your home -

Just as you roll onto your side to dig through your drawer and find the weapon, the front door fully opens with a jingle of keys and the scuffling sounds of footsteps, and you pause, listening to the voices that roll through the apartment, hushed and breathy.

“Fuckin’ - tripped over my foot,” comes a familiar voice, louder than the one who follows right after him, murmuring for him to shut the hell up - are you trying to wake up the entire city? -

You’re out of bed faster than you can even process, covers mercilessly kicked to the very bottom of the bed in your haste. The hardwood is cold against your bare feet and the air bites at your skin, wearing nothing but one of Steve’s old t-shirts that falls to your mid thighs and a pair of lace panties that peeks out of the shirt when you bend over or reach up or do anything, really - it’s a bit of a scandalous look - but you pay no mind to it, opening the door and tearing down the hallway into the foyer.

You’ve smacked into a hard, thick body before you could stop yourself, arms thrown around Steve’s torso as you bury your face into his chest, and you can practically feel his deep laugh before you hear it but you do hear it, clear as day, and it brings a grin to your face that’s only deepened when Bucky tugs at your waist, pulling you into his back, arms wrapped around your stomach as he buries his face in your shoulder.

“Fury said you guys wouldn’t be home until tomorrow,” you tell them, letting your body relax into Bucky’s embrace as Steve traces his fingers across your jawline, tilting your head up so he can press one light kiss to your puckered lips. His arms snake around your waist, sandwiched between your back and Bucky’s chest, fingertips clutching tight onto the loose fabric of the shirt you’re donning and he uses it as leverage to hold you closer to him.

“It was an easy one,” Steve replies, leaning forward just a bit until you’re fully pressed between the two soldiers, your head squished into his chest as he inhales the scent of your shampoo, nose buried into the top of your head. “Can’t believe you called Fury about it - missed us that much, hmm?”

A dry chuckle jostles the body behind you, feeling Bucky’s warm laughter against your neck, and you bite on your bottom lip as you nod. “‘Course I missed you - don’t get cocky -” for you’d just caught sight of Steve’s smug grin, toying his lips upward, and you use the top of your head to push him away from you in mock disgust, leaning further into Bucky’s grasp. He hums softly, breath ruffling your hair, messy from your failed attempts to sleep. “S’so lonely here.”

“Aww,” murmurs Bucky, lips pressing warm kisses into the exposed expanse of your neck, and you tilt your head to the side to give him easier access as Steve crosses his arms over his chest, watching the pair of you at work. “Poor baby.”

“Hey -” you reach behind you, running your hands through long, brunette locks just to feel the way Bucky smiles against your skin. “At least you two have each other on missions, getting each other off - I’m here all by myself. Nothin’ but the fingers.” “There’s a lot less time to get your rocks off in the middle of a mission than you’d think.”

“Is there?” you inquire playfully as Bucky’s lips trail further up your neck, landing on a spot just beneath your jawline and suckling the soft skin - the teasing lilt in your voice that you’d intended to sound confident and self-assured gets breathier and just a tad more pathetic as you continue, “Sam and I always seem to have enough time -”

Bucky grunts against your cheek, murmuring something you can’t quite make out about how he hates that fuckin’ bird boy, and a grin spreads across your face that mirrors Steve’s as he watches you. Bucky tilts your head to the side with two fingers pressed to your chin so he can ghost his lips over yours but you deepen it, pushing your face further into his as you wrap one of your arms around his neck, tugging at his hair to hear him groan into your mouth and you swallow the noise. You can practically sense Steve rolling his eyes both at your teasing and the way Bucky’s absolutely devouring you, the metal hand around your waist trailing up your torso and leaving goosebumps in its wake until he reaches your chest, cold fingers plucking at your nipple, and your chest arches into his hand with a broken gasp into his mouth.

“Better tell Sam not to touch what isn’t his,” Steve tells you, and you nod, watching the blonde take a few steps forward and for a moment you wonder if he’ll lean down, take your lips from Bucky’s and kiss you until you’re practically putty in his hands but instead he pushes past the both of you, disappearing down the hallway behind you, and you crane your neck backwards to watch his back as he vanishes around a corner.

For a moment you wonder if Bucky hadn’t seen him leave, continuing his ministrations on your nipples as his teeth bite at your bottom lip as though there’d been no interruption, his mouth turning up into a smug smirk at the way you whimper into his mouth. God, you’ve missed his touch, clever hands knowing exactly how to make you fall apart for him even without slipping into the lace of your panties, and your mouth opens in a silent gasp as his flesh palm presses to the skin of your stomach.

“Wanna go see Stevie?” the soldier questions into your mouth, voice low and sultry smooth, and you jerk your head up and down once. “Tough mission for him.”

You frown at that as Bucky pulls away from you, leaving one lingering kiss to the side of your throat as he pulls your shirt down over your lower half. “Thought he said it was easy.”

“It was,” and that makes your brows furrow as his metal hand wraps around your wrist, beginning to pull you down the hallway where your bedroom door is swung wide open. “But Fury ripped him a new one, ‘cause he disobeyed his orders - got the mission done fine - but you know how Stevie hates having his authority questioned.”

Your lips part in a silent o, and Bucky smirks ever so slightly before leading you into the bedroom where Steve sits at the edge of the bed, peeling off his suit and kicking it off of his ankles. Bucky shuts the door behind you, immediately working at tugging his vest over his head and you leave him to it, bare feet padding on the hardwood floor until you reach Steve, and you merely stand before him until he’s finished taking his clothes off, leaving him clad in only a pair of boxers.

“Do you need something?” Steve questions, glancing up at you with an amused glint in his eyes and you groan, lifting your leg up to straddle his lap, calves on either side of his, and his hands go to rest on the underside of your thigh like an instinct. For a moment you don’t say anything, grinding your hips down into his until his hands slide up your back, tugging your shirt up over your torso so he can press his cold palms to the globes of your ass, halting you in place. “Words, baby.”

“Want you to boss me around,” you tell him, dropping your lips to the side of his throat, and his dry exhale of a laugh blows at your hair as his fingers slip beneath the scrap of lace between your ass, fully digging into the plump skin, and you smile against his neck. “Missed you bein’ bossy.”

“Really?” You nod, feeling the bed dip beside you until there’s another set of hands on your body, tugging the hem of your shirt up until you’re forced to remove your lips from Steve’s neck so Bucky can pull your shirt off, littering it onto the ground beside you. Steve leans his head back as both you and Bucky lean forward, your lips to his throat and the other soldier taking his lips so that the next words he speaks are muffled into the kiss, “Sure Bucky didn’t put you up to this, baby?”

“Who’s Bucky?”

That makes both of them laugh into each other and you smile, leaning back in his lap as you take in the sight of them - lips crashed together, metal hand burying itself in blonde locks that he hasn’t cut in a while, hair brushing the tips of his ears, and Steve’s hand that had been on your ass drops, seemingly forgotten about his job - you huff, wrap your hand around his wrist, and lift his palm up to rest against your left breast.

Instinctively he squeezes, and the two men pull apart from each other as Bucky leans forward to kiss the top of your head, flesh hand sliding down your stomach until he can push into the damp lace fabric of your panties, and you jolt against his hand as he brushes your clit. “Can’t possibly think we forgot about you,” he tells you, and you shrug, watching the way he smiles. “Come on, Stevie, you heard her - wants you to boss her around.”

And Steve is surely still doubtful of your intentions - it isn’t as though you’ve ever asked him to boss you around before - it typically just happens when he’s pissed or upset or happy -

It happens a lot. He’s a bossy guy, both in the field and out of it, and he’s more than happy to give demands and orders and he loves to see you follow them.

Bucky is - usually along for the ride. He’s the calming voice in your ear when Steve is edging you until you’re screaming, the gentle touch when you’ve been overstimulated for an hour, the smooth, sultry kiss when you’re being filled so deep from both ends you feel entirely numb - and he can be mean, too, metal hand tightening around your throat and smirking at the way you sob -

Well, it depends.

“Get on the bed,” Steve tells you, and regardless of whether he’s suspicious of you and Bucky his voice is already hardening and if the words weren’t implicitly sexual, perhaps you could fool yourself into thinking you’re on the field - you listen, though. You always do - swing your legs off of his lap and land on your back on the bed, watching as Steve stands and Bucky merely turns around, leaning back on his arms as he watches you, your leg hiked up to give a limited, tantalizing view to the lace covered pex of your thighs.

“Buck - wanna get behind our girl?”

The phrase our girl never fails to make your stomach flutter, and the feeling only intensifies as Bucky grunts in affirmation, crawling towards you, and with hands hooked under your armpits he lifts you to sit, your back pressed to his chest. Hands reach up to your chest, cupping your tits in flesh and metal palms that have a chill rolling through your spine, hips grinding back against the erection you can feel pressed into your back.

“Spread your legs,” Steve tells you, and you oblige, feet sliding across the bed to spread yourself as wide open as you can, and Bucky’s metal hand leaves your chest to grab onto one of your thighs, forcing it open wide enough that a burn spreads through your muscle. “Yeah - don’t fuckin’ move, baby - hold her down, Buck.”

Bucky doesn’t need to be told twice, moving his other hand so he’s holding both of your thighs, and you can feel wetness dripping down your cunt onto the sheets as Steve stands still, for a moment, just watching the pair of you - your chest heaves and you can feel Bucky’s fingers twitch against your thighs, surely desperate to caress your tits just the way he always likes to, but he wouldn’t dare disobey Steve when he’s like this. You know it, and he knows it, and you’re sure Steve knows it too - he looks so smug, even as he climbs onto the bed, resting on his stomach as he presses his cheek into your thigh, warm breath fanning over your cunt. His fingers hook into the soaked material of your panties, feeling the stickiness that coats your folds and the undergarment, and with not a second of hesitation he rips them in half, tugging them off your leg and tossing the ruined scrap of lace onto the ground.

Your instinct is to reach down and run your fingers through his hair as he lowers his mouth to your pussy, tongue flicking once over your clit, but the second your hands jerk in their spot resting overtop of Bucky’s, Steve is reaching up - one hand manages to wrap around both of your wrists, holding your hands in place on top of your stomach with a grip so tight it’ll surely leave bruises that will darken in the morning.

You groan softly as Steve lifts his head, gaze hard and unforgiving as he stares at you, and then his gaze moves behind you where you know he must be having some sort of silent conversation with Bucky - they’re so good at that - before he’s leaning back down, teeth gnashing at your clit with enough force to make you jolt.

“Think Stevie said not to fuckin’ move, sweetie,” Bucky murmurs, lips sucking a dark hickey just beneath your ear, and a low whine escapes your throat as Steve’s tongue laps up your sticky folds before centering on your clit. “Didn’t you, honey?” And Steve hums in affirmation, pulling back to spit harshly at your clit, and you exhale skaily as you feel the glob of coldness trickle down your folds. “Move again, and I’ll punish you,” he tells you, which is more generous than he typically is when he’s in this state but you suppose the excitement of arriving home after a shitty, weekend mission must not have worn out yet. “Be a good girl for us, baby.”

You nod furiously, Bucky’s forearms hooking beneath your knees until the ache in your thighs nearly tips the balance of pain and pleasure but it’s still leaning towards the latter - more so as Steve dips his head back down, lips wrapping around the sensitive nub at your core that tears a moan from your throat, and you bite at your lips to try and silence the noises.

“Never told you to be quiet,” Steve mumbles against your cunt, vibrations from his voice sending a shiver up your spine, and Bucky smiles against one of the many hickies he’s leaving on your neck - you’re sure you’ll look a damn sight tomorrow, made of practically entirely concealer to hide the marks he’s obsessed with, but you don’t have it in you to stop. “Let us hear your noises - how good we’re making you feel.”

You drop your head back into Bucky’s shoulder with a desperate cry as Steve’s flexed tongue circles your clit before running back down your slit, parting your folds until he can slip his tongue inside of your hole, thrusting it in and out a few times, lips turning upwards at your resulting whine. Bucky’s nails leave deep, crescent-shaped indentations in the smooth skin of your inner thigh, and you can feel his erection pressed thick and swollen against your back. Surely he’s just as wound up as you are - and as much as Steve is, his hips rutting against the edge of the bed as though of their own accord - but he doesn’t do much of anything at all to alleviate the pressure, breathy exhales in your ear as your hips rub against his bulge.

“Wanna hold her open for me, Buck?” Steve questions, pulling back just a mere inch from your swollen clit before dipping his head back down, tongue licking a fat stripe through your folds before lust-blown blue orbs lift up to meet the ones behind you - you can feel Bucky’s hair, brushing against your cheek as he nods once, and your brows furrow in confusion. Surely he’s already holding you open, hands forcing your thighs so far apart that you can feel the burn in every inch of your body - and then he drops one of your thighs against the bed, metal hand trailing down to your cunt, and his fingers dip through your folds, spreading them apart and exposing your swollen clit further to the blonde between your legs. Steve adjusts himself, moving towards the side so he can press his face into your pussy without hitting Bucky’s fingers, and his tongue circles your clit once more.

You moan at the sight, nearly going cross eyed as you stare down at Steve. It’s so erotic, watching everything in your most sacred of areas, Bucky’s fingers and Steve’s face buried so intensely into your cunt you’re sure he can’t possibly breathe - he moans against your folds every so often, as though the act of giving you pleasure makes him feel just as good, and you don’t doubt it for a moment.

“Steve -” you gasp, back arching up, and Steve uses his hand around your wrist to force you back down onto the bed wordlessly - you drop pathetically back onto the duvet, a tear sliding down your cheek, and you can hear Bucky tut behind you, cold fingers slipping on the moisture coating your folds. “Steve - fuck -”

“Gonna cum, baby?” “Yes,” you breathe, hips bucking backwards into Bucky’s erection and he lets out a choked gasp into your ear, head falling back against the headboard with a loud thud that rings through the room. “Yes, need to - please -”

Steve pulls away, then - you cry out at the loss of warmth between your legs - and his nose nudges Bucky’s fingers, prompting the soldier behind you to take the cue to dip his metal digits into your cunt, the cold thickness stretching you out until you’re preening at the sensation. “Think she’s been a good girl? Think she should cum, Buck?”

You want to scream at the pause between the question and Bucky’s answer - he hums for a moment, as though in deep thought, fingers buried down to the knuckle inside of you and body practically leaning over yours so his metal arm can reach, brushing the sweet spot inside of you that makes your vision go fuzzy. He takes too fucking long, Steve’s grasp on your wrist pressed to your tummy the only thing keeping your hips from bucking up to force pressure into your cunt, before he finally says, “You’ve been good for us, haven’t you?”

“Yes!” you practically squeal as his fingers pull out hardly an inch before pumping back in, curling upwards again to hit your G-spot. “Yes, please, been so good, Bucky -”

“Cum for us, sweetie -”

You hardly wait for him to finish his sentence when Steve lowers his lips to your clit, wrapping around the bud and sucking until his cheeks hollow out, and your hips jerk desperately into his face as the waves of euphoria rack through your body, tearing a desperate sob from your throat as Bucky thrusts his fingers in and out of you, nearly hitting the side of Steve’s face in his haste to get you off, and he’s doing a damn good job at it - your hips jut into his back as you cum into their mouth and fingers, stuttering groans leaving your mouth one after another.

Steve’s mouth never leaves your clit - not even when your hips thrash against his mouth and you tear your hands free of his grasp to dig into his hair, attempting to stop his ministrations on your clit but he refuses - your folds drip wetness into his waiting mouth and he laps it up like a man dying of thirst, Bucky’s fingers lazily thrusting in and out of you as his chest rises and falls against your back, dropping your other thigh to hook an arm around your torso and hold you close to him.

Hold her down, Steve had told him, and he seems more than content to oblige with the order, whispering loving nothings in your ear that you can’t bring yourself to understand, words coming through as nothing more than incoherent babble to your brain muddled with the pressure to cum already building in your core again -

“Oh,” you whimper, heels digging into the mattress as Steve’s tongue laps over your folds and Bucky’s finger before settling on your clit again, flicking the nub over and over until you feel yourself fucking burst - “oh, fuck!”

It’s entirely more intense than the first one, Steve’s teeth nibbling at your clit as you topple over the edge like a row of dominoes - fire shoots through every limb, every crevice of your body until you’re shaking, tears streaming out of the corners of your eyes and trickling down to your jawline. Your thighs tense, a high pitched cry piercing the air of the room as the aftershocks overtake your body, leaving you trembling into Bucky’s grasp as Steve pulls off your clit with a pop.

“That’s good,” Bucky whispers into your ear, pulling his metal fingers out of you once the shaking rolling through your body has come to a relative halt - through your blurred vision you can see Steve take the digits in his mouth, licking them clean eyes rolling up to meet Bucky’s, and he groans softly. “Good girl.”

Steve leaves one last kiss to your swollen clit before moving up your body, and you’re quick to lean forward, wrapping a quivering arm around his neck and pulling him down for a kiss - it’s rough and biting, teeth clashing together and his tongue swiping into your mouth without a moment for you to catch your breath, and when he pulls away his breathing is noticeably heavier than before.

“Yeah, you’re good for us,” he tells you, bringing a hand up to stroke at the soft skin of your cheek before pulling it back and smacking it back down - it’s not hard, not by a long shot, but it’s enough to draw another whimper from your throat at the soft sting. “On your knees.”

Your legs feel shaky but you manage to push yourself to your knees, resting your arms around Steve’s shoulders to hold yourself up as Bucky shuffles behind you, slotting his hips against your ass so you can feel his bulge through his boxers - he grinds himself into your ass, sliding his arms around your waist just as Steve tugs his own boxers down, fist lazily pumping his cock as you watch him.

“You know what?” the blonde murmurs after a moment of you watching him, your cunt throbbing in need. “Think I’m gonna take your throat.”

You whine at that as Steve pulls away abruptly, leaving you nearly collapse onto your stomach but Bucky’s arm around your stomach mercifully holds you up, practically manhandling you as he turns you around, shoving you onto your back with your head nearly dangling off the bed as he crawls up your body, leaving lingering kisses on the smooth expanses of skin exposed to him. Large hands force your thighs open, pushing his hips in between your legs, and you whimper as his cock rubs against your overstimulated clit, even through the fabric of his boxers -

Steve stands beside the bed, smoothing his fingers through your matted hair as you come face to face with his cock, throbbing red and leaking precum down the sides, and your mouth practically waters at the sight - then Bucky’s pulling his own boxers down, swollen tip of his dick sliding through your sodden folds wettened from the aftermath of two orgasms. You push your thighs farther apart, opening your mouth wide and sticking your tongue out for Steve and he grins down at you, the expression looking less joyful and more downright smug and don’t you love seeing him like this? All dominant and intense, like he could control you if he pleased, and he does please -

His cock shoves forward into your throat at the same moment Bucky sheathes himself inside of your cunt fully, and a choked cry forces its way out of your mouth, reverberating through Steve’s body until he lets out a strangled grunt. Your nose brushes against the trimmed hair at his pelvis, hollowing your throat to take him in the best you can, and his grip on your hair tightens as leverage to hold you onto him.

“Oh - oh, shit,” Bucky gasps, the noise stuttered and breathy, and the hands on your thigh move up to squeeze your waist, grasp tough and bruising against your skin. “Fuck, fuck -”

You gag around Steve as he finally pulls out of your mouth, leaving just the tip on your tongue, and you swirl it around him - he drops his head back with a groan and when he speaks, his words are shallow, controlled - “Feels good, Buck?”

“So good, Stevie -” Bucky thrusts himself out of you before pushing back in, cunt stretching around his girth and your eyes roll back at the coil of pleasure already building in your lower stomach as his pace picks up, hips working faster and faster until the sound of skin slapping skin nearly overpowers your desperate mixture of moans and cries -

Nearly. Not completely.

Steve tugs at your hair and you remember your job to suck him off and you let him push your head forward, lips wrapping around his girth and tongue flattening to lap at the thick vein on the underside - his resulting groan is immediate, is desperate, and your urge to smile is only thwarted by Bucky’s metal hand pressing to your clit as his hips slam against yours.

Your hips jerk against his, pressure on the most sensitive point of your body making your eyes roll back once more as Steve’s cock slides in and out of your throat, both hands buried tight in your hair until there’s nothing else you can do than just take both of them - you bring your hands from their spot clutching the duvet to your tits, shaking fingertips kneading at your peaked nipples, and you’re not sure if the needy whine that emits from Bucky’s throat is due to his cock slamming into your pussy or from the sight of you toying with your boobs, but either one is reasonable, you decide.

It takes hardly a moment to work the three of you into a rhythm, but when you get it, it’s perfect - Bucky thrusts into you, filling you up so deep you swear you can feel him in every crevice of your body, and once he pulls out Steve pushes himself into your mouth, tip of his dick hitting the back of your throat just to hear you gag around him. Every once in a while, though, there’s a stutter in the pattern, and both men pull out to ram into your cunt and mouth at the same time, and the three of you cry out in unison.

Bucky’s flesh hand moves to your thigh, pushing it up so far that your knee nearly touches your chest and the burn only heightens the pleasure he’s giving you as he hits the sweet spot buried deep in your cunt over and over like he’s memorized exactly where it is - and surely he has - they know your body better than you do, sometimes - know just how to make you scream. Metal fingers tweak at your clit and your hips grind up into his, pushing him deeper and deeper into you, and you moan around Steve’s dick.

“I’m gonna cum,” Bucky groans, hips slowing deliberately in pace but it’s still fast enough to make your head spin - Steve moves one hand to your face, grabbing your chin and holding you in place with his cock still halfway down your throat. “Fuck - want me to fill you up, sweetie?”

You nod.

“Tell me,” he insists, and your eyes squeeze shut as you exhale through your nose. “Want me to fill you up?”

Steve pulls out until only the tip of his length rests in your mouth, and you swallow thickly before saying, words a desperate sob, “Please - please cum in me, Bucky, baby, please - fill me up -”

“Good girl,” the brunette between your thigh grunts, squeezing your clit harshly and your back arches, Steve slipping his cock all the way back in your mouth, hitting the back of your throat and you gag around him as he moans. “Good - fuckin’ - girl -”

With a few more harsh thrusts into your pussy Bucky’s hips halt, pressed taut to yours, filling you to the brim, and his head drops backwards, lips parting with a drawn out, silent scream before he fully cries out, and you feel his ribbons of cum in your cunt - the warmth filling you up is enough to snap the coil building in your abdomen and you sob around Steve as you cum onto Bucky, core clenching around him like a vise as he holds you to him.

“Yes, yes -” Bucky’s voice sounds far away as your muscles go lax, collapsing like putty onto the bed with the grasps on your head and your hips the only thing grounding you to Earth - “yes, takin’ me so fuckin’ good -”

It’s then that Steve gives one last thrust, deep in your throat, and his grip on your chin forces you to look up at him, meeting his stern eyes and he’s so close you can see it reflected in his orbs - they’re dark, pupils wide, and you whimper. “Don’t swallow,” he whispers, tone sounding similar to that of a hiss, and you nod. “Don’t swallow a single drop.”

Your head bobs up and down as Steve’s hand pumps up and down the base of his cock, his cry strangled and needy when he finally releases into your mouth - he cums in spurts onto your tongue and you keep it stuck out for him, trying to resist the overwhelming desire to swallow everything he’s given you but he looks so proud of you when he’s finished and every drop still rests on your tongue and you prefer that look of admiration over the taste, really.

“Kiss her, Buck -”

And Bucky doesn’t have to be told twice, both hands moving to your neck and pulling you up so vigorously your head is spinning when he crashes his lips to yours. His tongue slips into your mouth and you part your lips for him, cum dribbling out of the sides of your mouth and he laps it up like a dying man, palms pressed to your tits. You can see the bob of his throat when he swallows everything you’ve forced into his mouth and you swallow the rest, parting your lips from him with a gasp, practically heaving for air in the bedroom that suddenly feels humid, smelling of sex and cum and desire and remarkably like your two boys themselves.

Steve collapses onto the bed first. He grabs for Bucky, tugging him into his chest and you sit on your knees for a moment, simply watching them - they fall into tandem with each other like they were made for it, and maybe they were, Steve’s face nuzzling into Bucky’s back and you’re never surprised by the sudden vulnerability of your captain immediately after sex. The first time you’d joined them you’d suspected he was embarrassed but you don’t think he is

He’s in love.

It’s a sweet thought.

Bucky wraps his metal hand around your wrist and pulls you down to him, his chin resting on top of your head as you press your cheek to his sweaty chest, feeling his arm wrap around your back. He’s silent, using his foot to kick the comforter up from where it’s been shoved to the bottom of the bed, and when it’s far enough up Steve reaches down to pull it over the three of you, drowning you in its warmth even though you’re not feeling quite cold anymore.

“I don’t know,” you say, after a moment of silence, voice muffled against Bucky’s chest. “It feels like I’m the only one getting ganged up on, nowadays.”

They laugh at that, Bucky’s flesh palm smoothing up and down your back. “You asked for it,” Steve tells you, and you shrug.

“Still.” You move to rest your chin on Bucky’s chest, and he nearly goes cross eyed to meet your eyes as he looks down at you. “Maybe, one of these days, we could tie Stevie up. Have our way with him.”

“He’d love that,” Bucky muses, and you can practically hear Steve rolling his eyes.

“Yeah - right after a mission, when he’s all wound up -”

“Hey,” Steve warns, and you smile.

“I don’t think there are restraints strong enough for those muscles, anyway,” you murmur, and Bucky smiles, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of your head.

You fall into silence again, and after a couple of minutes you hear Steve’s soft snoring, followed by Bucky’s, until you’re the last awake between the three of you. They’re rightfully exhausted, surely getting little to no sleep over the weekend - you like hearing how peaceful they sound when they’re resting, even after fucking you so silly you were practically crying.

You smile as you bury your face into Bucky’s chest. Shit, maybe Fury was right - maybe they do balance each other out, a bit.

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stoneworldsimp · 4 years ago

Text

the dying poet

senku x reader

warnings: angst, mentions of food/water deprivation, swearing

day seven.

fuck, fuck, FUCK!

it felt like you had been running for hours, trying to shake this wild animal off. you made sharp turns behind large bushes in hopes of losing it, you’d hold as still as possible behind large roots on the ground, but the animal kept finding you in one way or another.

“please go away,”you panted. “c’mon. you’ve been chasing me fucking forever, can’t you just give up?!”

you were tired; your legs were about to buckle in on themselves. dinner one night was suddenly ruined when you realized the fucker was watching you eat. in the beginning you thought it was only after your food, not you; you threw a random ration away from your camp in hopes to get it away from you. in hindsight, it only worked until you fell asleep.

you were lucky to wake up the next morning alive; your set up had been ripped to shreds, and footprints were on the ground around your body. it was painstakingly slow and nerve wracking to escape your position, but once you had everything you absolutely needed, you booked it.

sprinting for miles after miles proved to be very difficult for quite some time now.

the phone...it’s weighing me down. my bag of food isn’t even half as heavy as the phone.

looking down at the call button in your hand, you thought about tossing the phone. maybe i can fix it.. no, i don’t have any tools, the fucking animal chewed on them like dog bones. is there any way to put the wire back together...?

“FUCK my life!”

you took the phone off your back and threw it to you left, careful not to trip yourself in the process. immediately, you and your body felt the difference. with your new found energy, the run away was becoming easier, and helped you see a large cave just over the horizon. using the last of your energy, you took as large of steps as you can, and practically threw your body into the cave. the animal’s footsteps were nowhere to be heard, but you figured you didn’t want to take any chances and look behind you. you were finally breaking free from being chased, just a little deeper into this cave, and if i can find specific markings then i can backtrack—

a deep, loud rumble took you away from your thoughts. in no time, you were engulfed in dust and thick particles you didn’t know of.

the caved had closed in.

day one.

“i can do it.”

“are you sure? its a pretty perilous trip—“

“you should at least bring one other person with you—“

you sighed, exasperated that you had to defend your case once again. it had been days since the decision was made; you were going to make a trip to another part of the island in hopes to find extremely specific materials for one of senku’s projects... and it was far, far away.

quite frankly, you were the only one fit for the adventure. you were known to travel well on foot, had an exceptional sense of direction and you had a good eye for natural elements, as well as food; you also were unintentionally the least helpful when staying in the village. you didn’t have the crafting skills to successfully make glass or metal components for his experiments, and you never trusted your brain when helping senku with calculations and blueprints.

hearing senku and gen talk about this long trip to another part of the island was almost a dream come true. it was perfect for someone with your skillset, and kept you from being in the way of everybody else.

“it’ll be fine. c’mon, you guys have SOME faith in our traveler, right?”

you turned around, a smile on your face as you caught senku walking out of his lab. thank you, you mouthed.

once senku reached you and the group of villagers crowding near you, he spoke up again. “this trip is a straight shot from the bridge, the only problem would be that it’s going to take some time. possibly a month just to get there. but you,” he turned to face you,”have excellent outdoorsy-type skills that will make it really easy for you to spot what we need right away. everyone needs to stop worrying, because you’ll be there and back in no time. two months will pass like nothing.”

as the rest of the group walked away, mumbling their skepticisms, senku took your hand and tugged you back to the lab.

“what’re you taking me here for? oh wait,”you planted your feet at the front of the lab curtains, keeping the both of you from entering. “are you making me help you with your math again? because—”

“no, you’re pretty terrible at calculations,”he replied. “i have something for you.”

you puffed out your cheeks in embarrassment, but your expression completely changed once the curtain was opened.

on the table, there was a telephone. if was the size of a backpack, but it still had a speaker, a microphone, and a call button.

“i made it for you to take on the trip, in case you have any emergencies. i fully trust you in your own survival skills, but you never know if something extreme happens.”

you gave his hand a squeeze before letting go. as you walked closer to the table, you touched the outer fabric. you turned back to senku. “thank you.”

“you don’t have to thank me. i’m only making something that’s essential to your travels.”

“even still,” you trailed off. “i appreciate it.”

you turned back around and beamed at senku. “i’m not going to call you until i get there. i want to make sure that no enemies try to tail me if they hear me, as much as i’d want to give in right away and hear your voice. something like that...”

“how corny.” senku smiled and pulled you close while you laughed. you jumped a bit when his hands made their way around your waist.

“a bit touchy today,” you asked, grabbing hold of his shoulders. “but i’m not complaining.”

“i’m stockpiling the feeling of you for the weeks to come. we’ve never spent this much time apart before; it’s only logical.”

“i guess you’re right.”

he kissed you, multiple times; each one was deeper than the last.

day eleven.

he brought me a flower every morning, because i always slept in later than him. he’d wake up at the asscrack of dawn, just to have more time to jot ideas down. i used to try and pull him back to sleep with me, but he was so overflowing with plans, i didn’t want to stop him.

you turned on your side.

i remember he went to explore with chrome really early one morning, and apparently they found some huge meadow with a bunch of plants. ever since then, he would bring me a different kind; it was always a single flower, too. they were different colors and shapes, and some were enormous and some were smaller than my finger. he never woke me up for it, though. he would just leave it for me when i woke up on my own. it was always a surprise, almost startling when i’d open my eyes. it was my own pick-me-up for the day, in a sense.. no matter what happened the night before, waking up to a new type of flower would put me in a good mood every time. it was better than a coffee in the morning.

i wonder if he’s looking at the flowers with chrome everyday while i’m gone. man, i still wake up hoping to see a new one in front of me.

sure, reminiscing was fun and felt good, but what’s the point? you had eaten all of your food approximately two days ago, you only had about a teaspoon of water left, and there was no getting out of there. the way you came in had been covered in a dam of rocks. you couldn’t even dig yourself out.

you furiously wiped the tears that fell from your eyes. “senku...why did i think i could go alone?”

day fifteen.

poke, poke—

something was touching you. no, someone was touching you. your head bobbed side to side, in an attempt to shake them off.

damn, that’s persistent.

opening your eyes, you woke up to senku smiling. he was knelt beside your form. “wake up, sleeping beauty! it’s been almost three hours.”

it’s only been three hours?!

you sat up way too fast, and felt lightheaded as you tried to ask,”but...why didn’t you.. wake me up earlier? did everybody...did everyone eat already?”

he laughed. “yeah, sorry. we all thought you were out doing something with chrome. but,” he turned around, to grab something behind him,”i saved some in case you got hungry when you came back.”

you took the food in a dizzy haze. was it even food? you didn’t care too much, it felt like you hadn’t eaten for a long time. any food at this point was good food.

you couldn’t even swallow the first bite. “do you- is there..any water?”

“what?” senku pulled away from you, a look of disbelief painted across his face. it was clear as day.

you hesitated, feeling more lightheaded than before. “w- water?”

“don’t you remember?” he asked. he turned away from you. “there hasn’t been any water in days.”

it’s been days.

your body jolted from its spot, and harsh reality hit you square in the face.

yes, right. you shakily rubbed your eyes to make sure they weren’t cemented shut.

in the cave, finished your food, no water to be found. making yourself walk around was no use, either; without the fuel, your body was essentially just a trembling mess.

you scowled at yourself; unsure of what to do, what to even think.

day eighteen.

you remembered how he kissed you. the first kisses the most; you always had to tell him to not look so terrified. you also had to remind him to not stand like a statue when you kissed. pretty soon, after some reassurance, he got comfortable. there was nothing but confidence in the way he caressed your face in his hands. usually he was the one to pull away; you were so mesmerized, it felt as if the world completely stopped.

they were always quick and out of the way in public. usually, it was on your forehead or your one of your cheeks. the deep kisses you felt when you two were alone were incomparable. soft lips remained on yours for what felt like centuries. he tasted sweet, in his own way—

wait, who?

you licked your lips slowly, trying to think.

it was no use; you couldn’t even remember what he looked like. you lolled your head to the side and stared at the outline of a rock a couple of feet away.

once i get out of here, i’ll kiss him. whoever it was. it won’t matter if it’s just us, or more people. i’ll kiss him forever.

maybe if i go to sleep.. i can see him again.

#dr stone #dr stone x reader #senku ishigami x reader #senku x reader #ishigami senku x reader #ishigami senku #senku ishigami #dr stone imagines #dr stone scenarios #senku ishigami fluff #aahhh this was a little half baked #I’ve been busy what can I say😔#my semesters almost over and I have a placement test #final drivers test(yes I’m 20 and my ass can’t drive legally)#and another performance with my current schools ensemble #despite all of this. I hope u like what is basically my first attempt with angst!#at* not with ew

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pucksnsticksnhockeyboys · 4 years ago

Text

irritating you, irritating me

summary: you don’t like your neighbor Anthony, but it leads to more than one awkward encounter.

warnings: like one swear, mentions of drinking

word count: 5.4k

note from the writer: this is unedited and I wrote most of the last part on my phone so I apologize but enjoy! / take my survey!

ONE

The first time you met Anthony Beauvillier, you were certain you could go the rest of your life never seeing him again.

It was late, past midnight after a long and stressful day of moving into your new apartment. So when music started loudly playing from the unit across the hall, it took only fifteen minutes of you waiting to see if they were going to stop before you were tugging on a sweatshirt over your pajamas. Your mind hadn’t caught up to your actions before you knocked on your obnoxious neighbor’s door.

A brief moment of panic overtook you as you realized you had no idea who you were about to complain too, but it was too late to back out as the door swung open. If you had been a little more awake and a lot less annoyed, you would have catalogued just how attractive the guy standing in the doorway was. Bright blue eyes, tousled brown hair, and a grin that usually would have made you swoon.

He was trouble, that was for sure.

“Hey, what’s up?” He asked, a lightness to his tone as if you were an old friend and not someone he’d never met knocking on his door close to one in the morning. Hearing someone laugh in his apartment over the loud music, you remembered your reason for coming over—and it wasn’t to drool over the way his sweatshirt pulled across his broad shoulders. Before you could come up with a sentence, he was speaking again. “You’re my new neighbor, right? You just moved in today. I’m Anthony.”

“Y/N.” You told him shortly, crossing your arms over your chest. He raised a curious brow at your response, but didn’t comment further on it.

“So…” He trailed off, his gaze darting from you, to your apartment door behind you before he shot a look back into his apartment. “Can I help you with anything?”

“Could you turn your music down? It’s keeping me up.” You told him, a little harsher than probably necessary, but you couldn’t find it in you to care. He had to have known his music was way too loud, and if he just had no regard for his neighbors then you were going to have a hard time getting along with him.

“Yeah, of—”

“It’s a party! We’re celebrating!” Another boy joined the conversation, swinging an arm around Anthony’s shoulders. You raised an unimpressed brow at the new boy, who had a beer bottle clasped in his hand.

“And I’m trying to sleep.” You replied, voice void of any humor. Anthony shrugged the guy off his arm and told him to go back inside, while you waited impatiently. Your frown seemed permanent, but Anthony met it head on with a sympathetic smile.

“Sorry about Mat, he’s just excited about the win.” He apologized, though you had no idea what he was talking about. Exhaustion was taking over you, and the longer you stayed out in front of Anthony’s apartment the more your contempt for him grew.

“Can you please just try and keep it down?” You pleaded, dragging a hand down your face. You didn’t care about why they were being so loud, you just wanted them to stop.

“I’ll try, but the guys might fight me on it.” He tried to joke, an easy smile on his face as he leaned against his doorframe. Apparently, he found something about this amusing. You, on the other hand, decided then and there that your new neighbor was not going to be one of your friends.

“I’m sure you’ll think of something.” You rolled your eyes, giving up on trying to convince him. Without another word, you turned around, fully prepared to head back into your own apartment and deal with whatever choice Anthony decided to make, regarding his music volume.

“It was nice meeting you.” Anthony called just as you opened your door. You weren’t sure if he was being smug or not, his eyes were kind but the entire interaction hadn’t exactly been nice. Somehow, you were leaving his apartment more annoyed than you had been when you arrived.

“Yeah, I guess.” You huffed, shutting the door on him after flashing what was possibly the world’s fakest smile. In the split second you had to gauge his reaction before the wood door obstructed your view, he seemed to be taking it in stride.

He turned the music down. You could still hear it from your bedroom.

TWO

The next time you ran into Anthony, it was nearly two weeks later.

Run-in was a good way to describe it, considering he completely barrelled into you outside your favorite coffee shop three blocks from your apartment. You had tried to dodge him, you really did, but you weren’t quick enough and he wasn’t paying attention, and mixture of the two meant your drink spilled all down your front.

“Oh, my god!” You exclaimed, inspecting the damage down to your shirt. Thankfully, it wasn’t one of your favorites, but you most likely wouldn’t be able to wear it again. Anthony let out a string of curses in what sounded like French, and you shot him a glare that was met with a look of realization.

“Oh, it’s you.”

“Yeah, it’s me.” You huffed, retreating into the shop in search of napkins. You knew there was no hope in trying to save your shirt, but you at least wanted to not be dripping in coffee as you raced home to change before heading to work. Thankfully, you had an unusual head start on the day and most likely wouldn’t be late.

“Not like that, I mean. It’s you, my neighbor, not in our building.” Anthony hurried to correct himself. You rolled your eyes, reaching around him to toss your now empty cup in the trash.

“I do go out in public, you know.” Your comment was meant sarcastically, delivered with a little bite, but instead of being offended Anthony laughed. You paused dabbing the napkin against your coffee-stain to give him a confused look, not sure why he took your comment in stride.

“Can I buy you a new coffee? It’s the least I can do.” He offered, but you quickly shook your head. There was a line to the door and you knew you wouldn’t be able to wait for it, and the last thing you wanted to was wait around with Anthony, your neighbor you didn’t exactly like.

“I’ve got to go home and change, but thanks, I guess.” You told him, giving up on the coffee stain and tossing your napkins away. He frowned, then, and you wondered if he was used to being able to pick up anyone with his good looks.

Not that you wanted to find him attractive, of course. He was your annoying neighbor. But still, two things could be true. He could be your attractive, annoying neighbor that played music way too loud and spilled your coffee on you.

“Yeah, no problem.” He continued, recovering quickly and replacing his frown with a smile that would have made your heart skip and beat if you had gotten off on the right foot with him. “See you around?”

“Probably.” You shrugged. He did live across the hall from you, but you weren’t going to actively seek him out to hang out. That simply wasn’t in the cards for you and him, sometimes people just didn’t get along. You made a move as if to leave, but Anthony’s voice was calling out after you and, surprisingly, you stopped.

“I really am sorry, you know.” He told you, and something akin to a smile found its way onto your face before you could stop it. Your response wasn’t as snarky as your previous comments had been, but you left him with one finally comment before slipping out of the coffee shop and into the busy sidewalk.

“Tell that to my shirt, Anthony.”

That night, too late for visitors but too early for you to be asleep yet, there was a knock on your door. Pausing your show, you got up from the comfort of your blanket-covered couch and made your way to the door. Looking through the peephole, you didn’t see anyone standing outside. Curiosity got the better of you, and warily you opened the door and poked your head out into the hallway.

It was empty, save for the pile of fabric and drink sitting neatly in front of your door. There was a note on top, and you picked it up first, reading the scratchy handwriting that you had a sneaking suspicion belonged to the boy across the hall.

Tell your shirt I said sorry.

The fabric, upon closer inspection, was a slightly too-large New York Islanders t-shirt, with the name Beauvillier scrawled across the back and the number eighteen on the sleeve. Anthony had gotten you a new shirt, and even though you knew nothing about hockey and it was nothing like the one that had gotten ruined you still appreciated the gesture.

You picked up the cup next, recognizing the logo as the one belonging to the coffee shop you had been at earlier in the day. It was hot chocolate, not coffee, and you were thankful that he had the foresight to not get you caffeine so late at night.

“Thanks, Anthony.” You said, a little loudly in case he was watching you through his peephole. You turned to head back inside with your new shirt and hot drink when he replied, still inside his apartment but clearly by the door.

“My friends call me Tito.” You couldn’t help the roll of your eyes and the tiny grin that made its way onto your face. Thankfully, your back was to his door and without looking you called out to him one last time before slipping fully into your apartment.

“Goodnight, Anthony.”

Because just because he got you a new shirt, it didn’t mean you liked him any better.

THREE

There weren’t many things you regretted, having grown up with the mantra of being true to yourself and being kind. But you did have one regret, and it was coming back to bite you. And that was not looking up who exactly Beauvillier was on the Islanders team the moment you got the shirt.

Because if you had, there was absolutely no way you would have agreed to a third date with Max in finance that had ice level seats to the Islanders vs. Hurricanes game.

“Have you ever been to a hockey game?” Max asked, his arm slung over the back of your seat as you waited for the players to come out for warmups. You shook your head at his question, certain that you had already told him three times that you had never been to a game. You were pretty sure that he couldn’t hear a single word you said over his own ego. “I’ll make sure you get you a souvenir from your first game.”

“Okay.” You nodded, pretending that you were distracted by the huge crowd in the arena. Him getting you a souvenir sounded a little too much like you were a kid. Something in a crowd changed, voices louder as the music switched from top pop hits to pump up music and Max jostled you with his arm around your shoulders to get your attention.

“They’re coming out for warmups.” He explained just as the first player came racing out of the tunnel, knocking a stack of pucks onto the ice. You watched, mesmerized, as the players raced around in circles for a few laps seamlessly, before picking up pucks to run some quick drills and shoot on the net.

It was all going smoothly, until your gaze fell on number eighteen out of curiosity. His back was to you, and you were easily able to read Beauvillier emblazoned across the back. Something about him seemed familiar, and it was only when he turned around that you realized why.

Beauvillier was Anthony. Beauvillier was your neighbor. Your neighbor, who you had yet to have a decent interaction with, was a professional athlete.

And you were currently on a date where you’d have to watch him play.

With your luck, he noticed you then, grin making its way onto his face as he looked up and met your gaze. It wasn’t a smug grin, but a genuine one, and just as he raised his hand to wave at you, another player purposefully knocked into his shoulder since he was distracted. If your memory served you right, it was Mat, the one that convinced Anthony to not turn the music down that very first night.

“What was that?” Max asked, and you tore your gaze from the ice to look at him with a confused expression. “Do you know Beauvillier?”

“He lives across the hall from me.” You explained, trying to sound as nonchalant about it as possible. It really wasn’t a big deal for you, that a pro athlete was your neighbor, but didn’t have the best relationship with him, and didn’t exactly feel like talking about him on your date. “I’ve talked to him like twice—”

You started to explain, but a crash against the glass in front of you tore your attention away from Max with a jump. You turned, having not even noticed Anthony had skated over and thrown his body against the glass to get your attention. He looked proud of himself, and was grinning at you without acknowledging Max.

You gave Anthony a curious and annoyed look as he pointed at you, then began to juggle a puck around on his stick, clearly showing off. It was impressive, you had to admit, but with each movement you could practically feel Max getting more and more annoyed. Finally, Anthony tossed the puck up and over the glass. Instinctively, you caught the rubber disk, and Anthony shot you a wink that was met with a roll of your eyes.

“Here, you guys can have this.” You smiled at the group of young kids wearing Islanders jerseys that had come down the glass for warmups. The little girl that you handed the puck to smiled brightly at you before running off excitedly to show her parents what she had gotten. They mouthed a thank you, and you waved them off with a grin. You turned back to the ice, flushing when you realized that Anthony was still looking at you. He didn’t look annoyed at you for giving away his puck, but instead was regarding you with a smile too soft for someone you barely considered an acquaintance. You gave him a pointed look, because that was easier to do than acknowledge the way your face warmed under his gaze, and he shook his head softly while still smiling. Civilly, he nodded to Max before retreating back with his teammates.

“Yeah, I’m sure you’re just friends.” Max commented dryly, glaring daggers at the back of Anthony’s head as he skated away to finish warmups. You rolled your eyes, not bothering to acknowledge his childishness.

You watched the game with a renewed interest, cheering probably louder than you would have if you hadn’t realized that your neighbor was on the team. Besides, you had to entertain yourself somehow, as Max was giving you the cold shoulder ever since your interaction with Anthony. The Islanders pulled out a win, and you were riding a high up until Max dropped you off at your apartment.

“I don’t think this is going to work out.”

You looked at Max dumbly, a little hurt and waiting for an explanation. It wasn’t the end of the world for you, it was only the third date and he was a bit too stuck up for your taste, but it still sucked to be dumped.

“I just can’t compete with Beauvillier. I mean, he’s a pro athlete.”

And then he was gone, and you were left wondering just when you gave off the impression that there was any competition between him and Anthony.

The stupid puck, you cursed in the elevator up to your floor, because Max didn’t even bother walking you all the way to your door. He dumped you in his car in front of your building; how romantic.

The elevator dinged and the doors opened just as your frown deepened and eyes began to water. You were upset, not necessarily because you thought you had a future with Max but because Anthony’s stupid showing off ruined any chance you had. And just your luck, Anthony was at his door, unlocking it.

“Hey—” He started, way too chipper for the sour mood you were currently in.

“Thanks for that tonight, really.” You snapped, digging your keys out of your pocket as your tears blurred your vision. Your back was to Anthony, but you could feel his gaze on you. It was clear that he saw your upset expression, and you wished with everything you had that you had been able to wait until you were in the safety of your own apartment to start crying.

“What’s wrong?” He was at your side in your instant, but at the moment you didn’t want his sympathy. While deep down you knew that Max’s own insecurities were the reason that he ended things, but Anthony was the catalyst and you were projecting your anger onto him.

“Max ended things with me because you couldn’t help yourself.” You whipped your head to face him, too distraught to care that the keys had slipped from your shaky fingers. You held Anthony’s gaze, noting momentarily how dumbstruck and concerned he looks, before cursing to yourself and ducking down to pick up your keys.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know.” He stammered out. You took a centering breath, and finally got your apartment unlocked. You wheeled around to face Anthony one last time, only to find he was still watching you curiously.

“Forget it.” And then because you couldn’t possibly look any more pathetic, you sniffled and swiped at the tears on your cheeks.

“I—”

“Forget it!” You interrupted a little louder, ducking into your apartment and swiftly shutting the door behind you. It’s not that you wanted to be mad at Anthony, you were just upset and he was the closest thing to being actually upset at Max.

Still, you didn’t see yourself ever getting along with him.

FOUR

It was two weeks later when you finally saw Anthony again. And, to know one’s surprise, his appearance put you in a sour mood.

To be fair, it was well past one in the morning when the knocking on your door started.

Part of you knew exactly who it was the moment you crawled out of bed. You hadn’t been asleep, with the next day being an obligation-free Saturday you had let yourself stay up late to watch a few extra episodes of your favorite show. Still, you were grumbling as you pulled a sweatshirt over your sleep shirt and shorts as you made your way to the door.

You looked through the peephole to confirm your suspicions, and with a roll of your eyes you swung the door open and gave the two men on the opposite side an unimpressed look.

“What?” You prompted, cataloging the smell of beer and the fact that Mat was leaning heavily on Anthony for support. The former was definitely drunk, and from the looks of it a few moments away from passing out.

“I locked myself out.” Anthony told you, as if that was a complete explanation. “And I can’t get a hold of the landlord.”

“And you’re knocking on my door because...?” You trailed off expectantly. You knew you sounded mean, but that wasn’t your entire intention. It was late, you were tired, and you weren’t the biggest fan of Anthony.

“Can we just come in and wait until I can get into my place?” Anthony finally asked. You considered saying no, a large part of you wanted to, but you knew that if the roles were reversed you’d want him to take pity on you. So, you simply sighed and retreated into your apartment, leaving the door open for Anthony to lead Mat into.

“He’s not going to throw up on my stuff, is he?” You questioned as Anthony dropped Mat onto your couch, the dark haired hockey player giggling as he landed on his side. You figured he had seconds before it was lights out, and needed to know if you had to dig out the puke bucket—a remnant of your wilder years in college.

“He should be fine.” Anthony waved it off, and you nodded slowly before sitting in one of the two armchairs you had gotten for your living room. Anthony sat in the other, located across the room with what felt like a thousand miles, but was just really Mat snoring, separating you.

You nodded and, because you couldn’t handle the awkward silence in the room that followed, pulled out your phone to check all your socials to pass the time. You had already checked your instagram feed, replied to a few snapchats, and was in the middle of crafting a text to your best friend explaining that your annoying neighbor was in your living room when Anthony cleared his throat and you looked up to meet his gaze.

“What did I do to make you so annoyed at me?” He asked, a genuine curiosity in his eyes that had you clicking off your phone and dropping it into your lap.

“How many people can you name that’d be happy with someone knocking on their door past one in the morning with a drunk guy begging to be let in?” You replied, a lack of hostility in your tone that surprised even you.

“I would have texted, but you haven’t given me your number.” It wasn’t for lack of trying, he had asked you for your number on more than one occasion. Everytime you shot him down; it was like a game you had been playing with him and would be playing until the end of time.

“I only give my phone number to friends.” Your response came quickly, and you were surprised to see a glimmer of amusement cross his face.

“Aren’t we friends?” He challenged and you playfully rolled your eyes.

“We’ve had like three total conversations before this, and you just brought over a drunk hockey player to crash on my couch.” You replied easily, the beginnings of a grin toying with the corners of your lips. “Is that how all your friendships are?”

“Only the fun ones.” He was fully grinning now, and you shook your head in a bid to hide your own smile. Silence fell over you and Anthony once more, except this time it wasn’t as tense and you didn’t feel the need to mindlessly scroll through your phone to escape it. Instead, you were openly taking in Anthony’s appearance. Clearly, from the state Mat was in, you had assumed they had been out drinking. But Anthony was dressed nicely, a button up with a few of the top buttons undone in a carelessly attractive way. You could see his chain from where you were sitting, and you’d be lying if you said he didn’t look extremely good.

Usually, you’d be embarrassed at openly checking him out. Except, he was clearly doing the same thing to you.

“Hey,” Anthony started, breaking you out of your trance and earning a questioning look from you. “Can we start over? I’m Anthony Beauvillier.”

You hesitated, biting the inside of your cheek to hide your grin. But it only took you a moment to agree to his request, and you gave him your name in the cheesy way he started.

“It’s nice to meet you, Anthony.” You teased, heart beating just a little bit quicker at his triumphant grin. You broke his gaze and looked to Mat, who you were pretty sure was drooling into your cushions, to distract yourself.

“My friends call me Tito.” He tried, mirroring what he said all those weeks prior when he had bought you the t-shirt. The t-shirt that had been sitting, folded up, at the bottom of the drawer. You smiled, a real and genuine smile as you looked back to him.

“Tito, then.”

PLUS ONE

From that night on, your friendship with Anthony only grew. Dinners at the other’s apartments, nights out with his teammates, and the occasional brunch where he had just gotten back from a road trip the night before and you were hungover from a girls night. He was slowly becoming a steady presence in your life and you weren’t sure how you felt about it.

Of course, you were thankful that you didn’t have to fight with him all the time. But you weren’t entirely ready to deal with the feeling that was quite the opposite of hatred that you felt for him.

You were falling for your annoying neighbor. And fast.

Of course, with playoffs, it meant you saw Anthony less and less. You watched each game religiously, even canceling on a few plans with some friends to stay in and support him from your couch. But you can’t win every year, and the Islanders’ season ended way too early.

You waited up probably much too late the next night for his flight to arrive back in New York, and made him text you when he got home.

My door is unlocked.

His simple text was all it took for you to anxiously jump off your couch and cross the hall. He was true to his word, and you slipped into his apartment quickly. His shoes were in the doorway and his keys were discarded on the counter.

It was only seconds later when Anthony emerged from his bedroom, having changed into a pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt. He looked a little tired, and a lot defeated, and when the words to help lift his mood failed you, you crossed the room and fell into his open arms.

“I missed you.” You mumbled, deciding that was safer than bringing up the failed cup run. You were in uncharted territory, never having once to deal with someone who had just gotten knocked out of the playoffs.

“Stay with me a little longer tonight?” He hummed in response, his arms tightening around you the moment he felt like you were going to pull back. If there wasn’t such a heaviness around you then, you would have chuckled at his eagerness, but you nodded quietly and obliged him for a longer hug. Finally, he pulled back, but didn’t let you get far before as he latched onto your hand and led you into his living room and onto his couch. “Did you watch the game?”

“Yeah, you guys played well.” You tried complimenting him, but he only shook his head like he didn’t believe you.

“Not good enough, apparently.” He murmured, and you reached out to place a hand on his knee for comfort.

“You can’t think like that.” You told him softly, and he pursed his lips, covering your hand with his and giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Sorry, I’m being annoying about this.” In an unfamiliar bout of insecurity, he laughed humorlessly.

“You’re not annoying me.” You shook your head. This was something important to him, he was allowed to be upset about being knocked from the playoffs.

“Well, that’s a first.” He cracked a grin, a sign that his mood was changing. You pushed away the thought that you had an effect on him, not wanting to get your hopes up too much.

“Shut up.” You chuckled, knowing he was referring to the rocky start of your friendship with him. Though, he was welcome to tease you all night if it meant he was smiling again.

“Might have to go tell Mat, he won’t believe that you said that.” He mused, and you swatted at his shoulder playfully. In the course of your friendship with Anthony, you had also gotten to know Mat better, and he thought it was the funniest thing that you didn’t get along with Anthony for months.

“Okay, now you’re annoying me.” You grinned, watching with glee as Anthony rolled his eyes playfully. His gaze seemed to catch on something then, one of his fingers extending to tug at the fabric of your shirt.

“You’re wearing the shirt.” He commented, sounding a little dumbstruck. You had to look down to see what he was referencing, seeing that you had the Beauvillier t-shirt he gave you from way back when on.

“Why wouldn’t I?” You questioned honestly. You wore it often, the fabric was soft and it was a little oversized, which meant it was perfect to lay around in. Certainly, he had to have seen you in it already.

“I don’t know, I just thought you would have thrown it out. Considering how much you hated me when I bought it.” You didn’t reply, simply rolling your eyes playfully at him. He certainly wasn’t going to let that go anytime soon.

“I like the beard.” You changed the topic, offhandedly complimenting the facial hair that had grown in during his push for the cup.

“Je vous aime bien.” He replied, a blush on his cheeks. You furrowed your brows in confusion, not sure what he said. But with the look in his eyes and the redness creeping up his neck told you it was something you needed to know.

“What?” You asked dumbly. He spoke French around you often, mostly quick phrases and teasing comments, but this seemed like so much more.

“I… like you.” He confessed the absolute last thing you thought would. Your heart rate skyrocketed, brows shooting up and mouth parting in shock.

“Oh.”

“Oh?” He questioned, nerves evident in his tone and the way he slumped his shoulders and pulled back from you.

Oh was about how you felt. It wasn’t a bad oh, far from it, but you were confused about your own feelings. Because you did have feelings for him, that was for sure, but you had spent so much the beginning of your relationship with him not liking him at all.

“Forget I said anything, if you want to go then I under—”

“Fuck it.” You muttered, more to yourself than anything, before pushing yourself towards Anthony and wrapping one hand around the back of his neck to keep him in place as you connected your lips in a kiss.

He wasn’t expecting it, having thought your oh meant a rejection, but it only took him seconds before he reacted, hands falling to your waist to tug you closer. In his excitement, he tugged too hard and pulled you so either of your legs were across his lap. You broke apart from the kiss with a giggle, meeting his broad smile with one of your own.

“Someone’s eager.” You teased, sitting back in his lap and letting your hands brush across his shoulders and settle on his chest.

“Can you blame me? I’ve been waiting on you for a while.” He grinned, his smile wide as he admired you.

“How long is a while?” You questioned genuinely, thumb brushing gently back and forth across the fabric of his shirt. You couldn’t get enough of him, and if the way he was smiling at you told you anything, he felt the same way.

“The night we met?” He grinned and you couldn’t help the roll of your eyes at his cheesy comment. It certainly wasn’t love at first sight for you.

“Me complaining about you being loud was how I got you?” You teased, remembering how annoyed you were at him, and how Mat did absolutely nothing to help the situation. He ducked his head up, catching your lips for a quick kiss before slumping back against the couch and smiling warmly at you.

“I mean, you’re cute when you’re angry.” He replied, one of his shoulders shrugging while he held your gaze like he never wanted to look away again.

“So that explains why you kept annoying me.” You mused playfully, watching as a small started to bloom on his cheeks.

“Well, those were accidents.” He confessed bashfully, squeezing your waist as you let out a laugh. “So, do you think you could give me another chance?”

He didn’t really need to ask for another chance, you had long since forgiven him for annoying you those few times. Still, you grinned at him and leaned down for another short, sweet kiss.

“I think I can be convinced.”

#anthony beauvillier #anthony beauvillier x reader #Anthony beauvillier imagine #tito beauvillier #tito beauvillier x reader #tito beauvillier imagine #New York Islanders #New York Islanders x reader #New York Islanders imagine #hockey imagine #hockey x reader #NHL imagine #NHL x reader

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aria-i-adagio · 3 years ago

Text

Fourth Try’s Not the Charm

for @autumnofanders Day 3: Kinloch

Wordcount: ~2100 Rating: T

CW: templar abuse, imprisonment, hurt/comfort

Anders didn’t plan his fourth escape from Kinloch Hold. It was a crime of opportunity. About two months after his Harrowing, some of the senior enchanters talked the Greagoir into letting them take the recently harrowed mages outside to teach them some spells that could be used with water - in the water. Supposedly, they could be trusted now. Allowed a bit more leeway.

He wasn't planning on doing anything except enjoying the sun, but once he's mastered a spell that creates an artificial current - intended to propel a boat - well, it only made sense to see if the same spell would work for a human body.

Yes.

And by the grace of Andraste or some other power, no one notices when he takes as deep of a breath as he can manage, ducks under the water, and reemerges a good fifty yards closer to shore.

Anders hides out on an overgrown bank for the rest of the day, then steals some clothes from a line and a handful or two of carrots from the ground in the little village beside the docks, and then he's gone.

It takes them one month and five days to find him in Amaranthine.

Anders is already pretty beat up when they get him back to the Tower. Greagoir is infuriated - angrier than Anders has ever seen him - and orders a public whipping to get his point across. Thirty lashes. Anders tells himself that he’ll live through that... he thinks. After about ten or so, his mind just sort of drops out, floats away, to nowhere in particular. Just somewhere very, very far away. He’s not really conscious again until someone tosses a bucket of salted water across his back, then two knights are hauling him down the steps and dumping him face-first onto a thin mattress.

The next time he’s aware of anything there’s a woman arguing with the guards outside the door.

“Sorry, ma'am, but the Knight-Commander wants him to be an example.”

“He won't make a very good example if he's dead, will he?” A very stern, determined woman. Wynne. Just what he needs. A warm, maternal tongue lashing. “Let me through. I won't do anything other than drive out infection.”

“Let her pass. Drop the dampening wards for her as well.”

The door creaks open. Anders can’t tell if the light in the cell increases. His face is too well hidden in his arms. Wynne touches his bicep and shakes him until he groans and turns his head to the side. “Hi, Mom.”

“You are the damnedest fool I’ve ever met.” Wynne tweaks his ear. “Don't you realize how much trouble you create for the rest of us? How worried some of us were about you?”

“I'm not the problem. If they didn’t -”

She sighs. “I’ve heard all of this from you before. You’re old enough to know better.”

Heat radiates from her hands as they hover over Anders’ back. It’s not a full healing spell, but it will keep the open welts from getting infected. And possibly calm the fever that Anders can tell is running dangerously high. Might get an interesting dream or two out of it to pass the time.

“That’s all I’m allowed to do.” Wynne gathers his hair at the base of his neck and brushes the back of her hand over his temple and cheek. “They're leaving you down here for two months and ten days, Anders.”

“Ah, I'll get caught up on my sleep.”

“Don’t jest. I suggest using the time to pray for some wisdom.” She pats his cheek and stands up. “You're smarter than this. You have a lot to offer if you would just learn to accept reality.”

***

Light. Even the limited light of Kinloch Hold’s entry hall is more than Anders can hand;e after two months and change in the dark. An unsympathetic Templar shoves him toward the door that leads into the library. They’re done taking him apart. If any of the other mages want to bother putting him back together, he’s their problem now.

Karl grabs him almost as soon he staggers into the library and shakes him by the shoulders. “You moron.” Then he leans close and kisses him. “You fucking idiot.”

Anders winces at the contact. A kick in the side is about as much human interaction as he’s experienced in the past... however long. In the dark, time collapses and expands in unpredictable ways.

Dark. His vision goes dark around the edges, and his knees give up.

Karl catches him and pulls Anders’ arm across his shoulder, holding him up. “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.”

Anders hadn’t had the time to fully explore the quarters where the mages who had survived the Harrowing but who weren’t yet enchanters slept. The baths off to the side are about the same as the ones in the apprentices’ dorm though. Cast iron tubs with chips in the enamel and a few folding screens to approximate privacy. Hand pumps for water. A drain in the floor for the same.

They’re on the second tub of water, and Anders is beginning to worry about just what Karl used as a bribe to get this much water and time. “I’m going to have to cut these out.” Karl has been trying for what seems like hours now to work loose the mats in Anders’ hair. Or maybe they’ve only been here a few minutes; Anders isn’t sure.

“Go ahead,” he mumbles.

“Maker, baby...” Karl pushes lightly on the back of his head. Anders lets his chin fall forward onto his chest. The sound of metal scraping together grates against his ears as Karl begins snipping clumps out of his hair. Karl is careful, working slowly and pushing his fingers along Anders’ scalp to keep from cutting the skin by mistake. It’ll grow back. Just like skin does.

He rests his elbows on the edge of the tub and lets his fingers dangle in the water. It’s warm, he knows, but he can’t really feel it, any more than he could really feel the rough fabric of a washcloth scrubbing across his skin.

“What are you humming?” Karl is still trimming, maybe trying to even out the length.

“Am I humming?” Anders started singing to himself maybe a week, maybe two, after he was left alone. Then it turned to humming. He doesn’t even think about it now.

Karl leans around him, scoops up a double handful of water, and rinses out his hair. “There we go.” He presses his cheek against Anders, beard prickling against freshly shaven skin. “Let’s get you dried off and dressed. Do you want to try to walk a bit? The garden is still nice.”

Anders can’t find the energy to respond or even to raise his hand and investigate the feeling of short hair. Karl decides for him, guiding him to the kitchens and begging a bowl of soup and a thick chunk of bread from one of the Tranquil cooks. He sits across from Anders, watching as he eats. Anders doesn’t finish the food, his stomach starts to feel tight and painful before he’s even halfway through. He stares at the surface of the thin soup and stirs it absently.

“Can’t eat more? They’ve starved you too.” Karl reaches across the table and touches his face, frowning when Anders reflexively pulls away. “I’ve never seen your cheeks so hollow.”

“Shoulda left the beard then.”

Karl almost smiles. “Let’s try to stretch your legs a bit then.”

Even though the autumn day is overcast, the garden is almost too bright. Anders has to pull up the hood of his robe to shade his eyes before he can bear it, and he isn't able to walk far before he has to sit down on one of the stone benches. So much for running.

The walled garden is busy with mages trying to catch a bit of sun before winter sets in, but everyone except Karl gives him a wide berth. Anders has no complaints, he can barely manage to not cry with delight from hearing other human voices - or to panic because he’s no longer accustomed to hearing the sounds of people interacting with each other and going about their business.

How much he can stand to be touched comes and goes, but after the first several times Anders flinched away, Karl waits for him to initiate anything, not even daring to hold his hand. It’s probably safer for Karl if that remains the case. Anders just creates trouble for anyone who cares about him.

“You should go. They’ll be watching anyone with me.”

“Fuck that. Besides, I’m already marked.”

“I’m sorry, Karl.” Anders slumps against his shoulder, blinking rapidly in a futile attempt to not start crying. Maybe it’s just the light causing his eyes to water.

“Don’t worry about it, sweetheart.”

“Can we go back inside? I’m tired.” He hadn’t expected to be tired after spending so much time sleeping.

“Yes. If that’s what you want.”

***

Anders’ bed is just as he left it. No one had taken the opportunity to steal a desirable lower bunk tucked into the corner. A sign of respect? Or just Karl zealously guarding it? Who knows?

Anders crawls in and lays down gingerly on the mattress. His back is finally whole as of an hour or two ago when Karl peeled the filthy shirt off him, squeaked in dismay, and healed the one or two remaining welts that had been stubbornly refusing to close up. But Anders has gotten accustomed to moving with care to avoid reopening them. It’ll be some time before he’ll be able to bring himself to move carelessly, freely again.

Anders curls on his side and lays his head down on the large pillow, wrapping his arms around the much smaller one his mother gave him. The threads of the artful needlework are beginning to fade, much like the memory of her face.

Karl shakes out a blanket, drapes it over him, and starts to pull the curtains around the bed.

“No.” All the muscles in Anders’ body tighten, and his right calf spasms painfully. “Stop.”

Karl freezes. His eyes widen then soften with something between pity and pain of his own. Anders reaches out to him. “Will you stay with me? Please. Please don’t leave me alone. And not in the dark.”

Karl sits on the edge of the bed and strokes Anders’ hair. The short length transfers more of the sensation to his scalp, and Anders chokes back the sob that the gentle contact elicits.

“Do you want me to lay down with you?”

Anders nods. His throat is too tight to speak. Karl crawls into bed next to him and pulls the curtains around it partially closed, leaving at least some light streaming in. He folds one arm under his head and continues stroking Anders' hair and cheek.

“I’ve missed you,” Karl whispers.

Three, nearly four months, counting the time Anders was on the run and if in fact, Greagoir had only left him locked up for the time he first named and hadn’t conveniently forgotten about him for a few days or weeks more than promised.

“I’m sorry.”

“You’re not the problem. It’s this miserable place.”

“Keep talking.” Anders hasn't heard voices that weren't gruff commands in so long. “Please. Anything. Tell me what happened while I was...” His voice trails off.

“Hmm... Amaury finished his thesis. He’s got two apprentices now. One accidentally set a tree in the garden on fire last week. He let the Templars scramble for a minute or two before extinguishing it.”

Anders smiles, even if he can't quite find the strength to laugh.

“Speaking of Templars, two were caught at it in a stairwell the other day, and dear Knight-Captain Maude is furious because she'd been tupping one of them, but she can't say anything of course, because you know Greagoir frowns on cross rank relationships. So that's been a bit fun to watch.”

“Ah, so much honor and self-restraint from our selfless protectors.”

“As always. Let’s see... The Formari were asked to up their production of goods. I guess the Chantry didn’t get enough donations this year, or some Revered Mother wants new drapery for her halls. Pity that increased speed increases mistakes. Exponentially, of course.”

“Of course.” The Tranquil within the Formari might not care about being asked to do more, but the enchanters would find subtle ways to indicate their displeasure.

“Enchanter Ines managed to arrange another research trip, so every mage with any training in botany or herbalism is jockeying for a position. Have you ever seen what happens when a growth spell is cast on a fly trap?”

“Please tell me the overgrown carnivorous plant caught a Templar.” Anders manages a chuckle. “I should ask to go. Ines loves me. Maybe I could take a vow of silence."

"Now, now -” Karl kisses the tip of his nose. “Don't make promises you can’t keep.”

#autumnofanders #dragon age fanfiction #anders #karl thekla

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mochegato · 4 years ago

Text

Hope on Board

Chapter 8 – Walking My Baby Back Home

Chapter 1 Chapter 7

“Are you sure you should be lifting that?” Dick asked anxiously. “Maybe I should…” He reached out and grabbed the bolts of fabric out of Marinette’s hands. Marinette squeaked in surprise as the weight of the fabric was suddenly lifted, nearly falling backward from the shift in weight. Dick groaned under the unexpected weight, not expecting fabric to weigh so much.

“What are you doing?” She asked amused.

“You’re pregnant. You shouldn’t be carrying this much weight,” Dick insisted. “How were you carrying this much weight? I swear this weighs more than you do.”

Marinette chuckled. “This? This is nothing. I grew up in a bakery and helped stock the flour. Do you know how much one of those bags weighs?” She looked away with an indulgent smile to look through more fabric.

Dick cocked his head to the side to think about her question. How much did industrial sized bags of flour weigh? He honestly had no idea. But the idea of Marinette, little tiny, pixie-sized Marinette carrying heavy loads didn’t seem possible. “No. How much?”

Marinette blinked a few times not expecting the response to her rhetorical question. She wrinkled her nose as she thought about it. Dick smiled at her expression, wishing his hands were free to pull her into a tight hug and snuggle. “Um... I don't know in American measurements. But a lot. Like… 1000 hooves.”

Dick blinked at her a few times this time. He looked at her uncertainly. Was that a French term? Was it a mistranslation? That couldn’t have been what she meant to say. It had to be a baking term. “Hooves?”

“I don't know. I made up a unit, just like Americans do. So, 1000 hooves.” She nodded in confirmation.

Dick leaned his head back to fully laugh, eyes crinkling, chest rocking. Marinette took a moment from her search to appreciate how gorgeous he was when he laughed. “Wow. That much huh?” She nodded solemnly. “I apologize for doubting you. Now quit foal-ing around. What do you think of these fabrics? Yay or neigh?”

Marinette stared at him open mouthed for a few seconds. “No. Nope. Nuh uh. I already have to deal with Papa and Adrien. You are not allowed to make puns too.”

“So you’re saying I need to reign it in or you’ll bolt?” He wiggled his eyebrows at her. She rolled her eyes at him but couldn’t stop herself from giggling and he laughed again. He stared at her for a few more seconds before sighing. “I wish I wasn’t carrying these so I could kiss you.”

Marinette looked back in surprise until a sultry smile overtook her lips. “You could always set them down on the cutting table over there, you know.”

Dick followed where she was pointing and grinned back. He quickly made his way to the table to drop off the bolts and rushed back to her side, picking her up as he rushed to her, then backed up between two overstuffed aisles. Marinette let out a surprised giggle that turned into a full belly laugh at his excitement. Dick’s watched her dreamily as she laughed. “I hope our baby laughs like you.”

Marinette quieted immediately and looked at him in awe for a few moments. She smiled lovingly and traced the smile on his lips. “I hope the baby has your smile,” she looked up to peer in his eyes, “and your eyes. You have the most beautiful eyes and the most captivating smile. Your smile makes it hard to remember my name sometimes.”

Dick gazed at her, studying her features and thinking again how lucky he was to have her. How amazing she was, kind, thoughtful, brilliant, creative, brave… he could list attributes all day. “I like your eyes and smile better. I guess we’ll have to have a second so they can have yours. And that one can have my laugh.”

Marinette gaped at him, her face turned deep red. “Um… how about we get this one out before we plan the next one.”

Dick’s face fell. He’d pushed too far. He’d gotten carried away again. He was going to scare her at this rate. He stopped when he felt Marinette’s kiss on his lips. He melted into the kiss and moved to deepen it. She pulled away after a few moments. “I like that combination though. And once I don’t feel like throwing up constantly, maybe we can think about starting to practice for the next one.”

Dick’s face lit up and he nodded excitedly, but quickly became concerned. “How are you feeling now? Need to sit down? Need water or food?”

Marinette giggled and pecked his lips quickly. “I’m okay for now, but I anticipate needing something in my stomach in like… twenty minutes.”

Dick furrowed his brow. “We should probably get going then. It’ll take that long to find someplace and order.”

Marinette looked around anxiously. “Good point, but I’m not done. It’s… I need more time. I don’t want to have to come back. I’m actually feeling not terrible for a few moments today. I can push it a bit.”

Dick shook his head and leaned his forehead on hers. “The baby doesn’t like being pushed. It’s quite insistent. I’ll grab something quick and not messy from the store next door. That should give you a bit more time, right?”

Marinette looked up at him relieved. “Yes, thank you. A snack should help.”

“I mean, I’m already right here,” he gave her a sly grin. She cocked her head to the side in confusion. “I’m a snack and I’m right here for you.”

“Oh my God,” her cheeks flushed and she buried her head in his chest. She shook her head and gave him a playfully dirty look as he folded over in laughter. “Believe me, I agree. You are. But, how about one the baby can appreciate, not just me?”

He smiled and kissed her temple. “Of course. I’ll be right back.”

“Okay. It should just be a few more minutes. Like… thirty minutes?” She offered apologetically.

It was not. It was two hours and several snacks later by the time she had finally compared, sketched, tested, and finally selected the fabrics and taken them to get cut. But that wasn’t the end of it like Dick expected. That just led to the next phase in shopping, the accessories. She scrounged through all of the buttons, zippers, clasps, inserts, thread, and ribbon.

Dick had never known there was this much thought in an outfit. And this was supposedly just a quick trip. He couldn’t imagine a full trip. He would have to make sure to be busy when that happened… unless she wanted his company or asked, in which case he’d say yes. He sighed at himself. He was whipped. He looked over at Marinette’s shining face and couldn’t bring himself to care that he was. He would happily be whipped for her as long as he got to see that smile and be a cause for it. No matter what she said, he hoped their baby had her smile. All of them.

“Hey, there’s a good little diner around here. Want to get lunch there?” He asked when she was finally done and had arranged for them to drop it off later.

Marinette nodded happily. “Yes. I think the little one wants food now. No more snacks.” She absentmindedly rubbed her flat stomach. The motion made Dick smile. She was already so protective of the baby, which he could understand, he was too, of the baby and her. He pulled her closer into his side and leaned down to kiss her cheek. She looked back up at him with a brilliant smile and oh yeah, he was gone.

As soon as they walked into the diner, there was a loud, enthusiastic greeting for Dick from an older woman and a smile from the man in the kitchen who had peeked around to see him. “Dickie! It’s been too long. How are you?” She brought him in for a hug. Before he could answer she looked over at Marinette with a kind smile. “And who is this? Don’t tell me someone has finally caught you.”

Marinette smiled back at her and waved. “Hi. I’m Marinette, madame.”

The woman moved quickly to pull Marinette in for a hug as well. “Now, none of that. I’m Kora. Any friend of Dickie’s is family here.”

Marinette giggled and looked up at Dick with an impressed gaze. “Dickie is that good, huh?”

“Best teacher my grandson ever had. Only one to get him interested in something constructive. But, come, come. You didn’t come here to chat.” She showed them to a table. “Here are a few menus. Let me know when you’re ready to order.”

“Actually, I wouldn’t mind catching up for a second. How is Eddie? How about Rachel?” Dick spoke up before she could get far away.

“Oh, you know Eddie. He’s trying to stay out of trouble, but not too hard. It doesn’t help that the police keep an eye on him constantly. Makes him jumpy. Makes all of us jumpy. Rachel is doing great. Eddie’s making sure she stays safe. More responsibility than a young kid should take on, but what else can you do? She loves school. Taken a liking to clothing if you can believe it.” Marinette perked up instantly. “Decided she’s going to start designing them at fourteen. Saves money I suppose.”

“Would she like to see someone do it? Design I mean?” Kora looked at her questioningly. “I’m a designer. I actually moved here because I’m working on designs with Wayne Enterprises. I could take her with me to a meeting, if they are okay with it. There’s some top secret things going on, so they might not want anyone else there, but if they’re okay with it, I can show her the process.”

Kora looked over to Dick looking for his input, but Dick was too engrossed looking at Marinette in awe to see Kora’s inquiry. Kora laughed at him. That was endorsement enough for her. “Yeah, I think she’d like that. I’ll give you my number. We can arrange something.”

Marinette smiled excitedly and bounced in her seat. “That sounds great!” She looked back over to Dick as he took her hand.

“We better order before you start feeling sick. Know what you want?” When she nodded, they both placed their orders.

“I was fourteen when I started entering design contests,” Marinette said excitedly. “Hey, do you think Tim would be interested in sponsoring a design contest for kids? I think kids like Rachel and me at that age, would really love it.”

Dick smiled proudly at her. “I really think he would. And I think Jason would probably be willing to help out too.”

Marinette nodded decidedly. “I’ll talk to Tim about it at our meeting on Monday, the contest and Rachel.” She looked to the side for a moment and returned her gaze to him with a sly look. “So… you teach gymnastics to kids?”

Dick looked down shyly. “When I can. I haven’t in about a year because of other obligations, but… I miss it. I really liked doing it.”

“I would pay to see that. I bet it’s adorable.”

He smiled at the memory of the kids. “Yeah they were.”

“Them too.” She smirked and took a drink of her water, enjoying the sight of Dick blushing. Her expression slowly morphed to more dreamy. “Maybe you can teach our baby.”

Dick perked up at the idea. “I can’t wait. I started when I was in diapers. I’d like to pass that on to my kids. Oh, speaking of that, I was wondering if you might be interested in doing some pregnancy yoga classes or we can YouTube it and do it at home.”

“We?”

He shrugged. “I thought it might be something we could do together.”

“Yeah. I think that might be fun.” She squeezed his hand and blushed when he pulled her hand up to his lips to kiss the inside of her wrist.

They pulled apart when Kora came back with their food. She gave them a knowing look as she set the food down for them. “Young love. You two are adorable.”

Marinette blushed but Dick grinned. “Hey, Kora?” Dick spoke up before she could turn to leave. “What do you mean the cops are keeping an eye on Eddie?”

Kora sighed out. “It’s like they’re waiting for him to mess up. They’re constantly watching him. We try to make sure he’s never alone and there’s always surveillance cameras somewhere but it’s just about impossible. Honestly, I almost trust the gangs more. At least they’ll try to keep him safe.”

Dick shook his head. “I didn’t realize it was that bad.”

Kora shrugged. “No accountability and a gun. Who’s going to stop them?” With that, she walked away to let them eat, leaving Dick to consider her words.

<><><><><>

“So you’ve been doing gymnastics since you were in diapers?” Marinette prompted Dick as they walked hand in hand through a park on their way back to her apartment.

Yep,” Dick confirmed doing an aerial front flip without breaking his stride.

Marinette pulled him to a stop so she could gape at him. “Oh yeah, by all means, pretend that’s completely normal.”

“What?” Dick asked innocently.

“Don’t give me that, show off.”

“What that ? Oh! That. That was nothing. You should see what I could do if I was trying.” Dick shrugged casually, but the smug grin on his lips gave him away.

“Oh yeah, I could do that too, if the idea of being upside down didn’t make me want to throw up. But just wait, in 10 months or so, I’ll show you a cartwheel that will knock your socks off,” she mock threatened him.

He grinned, a sincere, warm look in his eyes. “I can’t wait to see it.” He did a side flip into a walk out without losing his breath. “I’m going to have our baby out doing you by the time he or she is one.”

Marinette playfully narrowed her eyes at him. “Okay Mister gymnastics is in my blood. Let’s see what you can do when you try.”

Dick grinned and leaned down for a quick kiss before moving a bit away to start. “Don’t blink, you’ll miss some amazing moves,” he winked at her before launching into a completely unprepared gymnastic routine. He did flip after flip, moving through the air with an ease she didn’t even think she had even as Ladybug. He jumped on the back of a bench with a single fluid movement, using it to launch into a double summersault flip. It went on for a few minutes at dizzying speed before his finale, using a water fountain to give him enough height for a triple flip. Only he didn’t quite land it right. He landed in an awkward, painful looking roll until he was laid flat out on his stomach.

Marinette stopped breathing as she waited for him to move. After a few seconds he still hadn’t moved. Her heart faltered. “Dick?” her voice was weak and uncertain. “Dick? Are you… are you okay?” the anxiety was becoming more apparent with every word. “Dick!” she ran to him, cursing herself for encouraging him and pushing him. “Dick!” Her hands were trembling as she turned him over to face her.

He looked up at her with a radiant smile. “I guess this means I fell hard for you.”

She stared at him for a few seconds while he curled up from laughing so hard. Tears started falling down Marinette’s cheeks while Dick continued to laugh. He immediately froze when he heard her let out a sob. He looked up at Marinette but she wasn’t kneeling above him anymore. She had backed up a few feet and was sobbing into her knees. “Marinette?” He reached out for her tentatively, her whole body was shaking. “Marinette? Are you okay?” He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into his chest. “I’m sorry. That wasn’t funny. I’m sorry,” he whispered over and over again in her ear, breaking it up with the occasional kiss to her temple.

After a few minutes her cries started to quiet. Dick brushed her bangs out of her eyes and wiped away her tears. “I’m sorry, Marinette. I wasn’t expecting you to take it so seriously.”

Marinette’s eyes flashed from distressed to anger in the span of a second. She backed away and shoved him in the shoulder. She wanted to punch him instead but she wasn’t at a good angle to punch his perfect jaw and even as upset as she was, she knew that wasn’t okay. “Seriously? I wasn’t supposed to take it seriously?” Dick stared at her in confusion… and pain. That seriously hurt. “I thought I pushed the father of my baby into killing himself. I thought you got hurt or broke your neck because of me. I thought you were hurt and I caused it,” she repeated again, tears starting to form again.

Dick’s expression softened and turned to guilt. He was an idiot. She was pregnant. Her hormones were going crazy. Not that he was stupid enough to mention that in his apology. He watched her cry over a commercial the other day, not even a particularly sad one. She was not in the frame of mind to accept jokes like this. “I’m sorry,” he said again as he rubbed her arms and pulled her back into his chest. “That was thoughtless and mean. I’m sorry.”

After a few minutes she pulled away just enough to look up at him through glassy eyes. “No, I’m sorry. I absolutely should not have shoved you. Normally I would have just rolled my eyes and pushed you back down, but these damn hormones.”

Dick nodded. Again, not something he wasn’t going to agree with verbally though. “Maybe I’ll do it again later.”

Marinette scoffed but pushed further into his embrace. “Nope that one is done. You’re going to have to come up with a new one. I’m sure you can do something with flipping or flopping or making your heart do cartwheels.”

Dick grinned and hugged her closer. “You’re taking all the best ones.”

Marinette smiled back and wound her arms around his neck. “I already have the best one.” She pulled him down for a kiss pushing all her anxiety and relief into it.

Chapter 9

Tags:

@dickinette-february @demonicbusiness @ichigorose @iloontjeboontje @ladybug-182 @toodaloo-kangaroo

#maribat #Dickinette February #dickinette #Hope on Board #Knocked Up AU #platonic jasonette #platonic adrienette #prompt - smile

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internalsealpanic · 4 years ago

Text

Respectful Cannibalism

Summary: Watching mystery movie with a bunch of detective was a bad idea

A/n: While this is part 3 to my Space Case series, you’re not required to read Art Gallery Smile or Cosmonauts to understand the context to this. The only note I do have is that Dick and Steph are friends with Reader much to Tim’s everlasting horror. Special thanks to @littleredwing89 and @glorified-red for proof reading this mess.

Warnings: Tooth rotting fluff and a confusing amount of batkids in one scene.

Main Masterlist

Tim Drake Masterlist

Tim coughs, loud and ragged into the speaker. You find yourself wincing at the phone tucked against your ear. Tim sounds like he’s dying or, at the very least, he’s on his way there.

“I’m so-”

“Fucking tired of saying sorry that you decided to go skinny dipping in Gotham Harbor? Yeah. Great, I’m sick of hearing it too. Glad, we’re on the same page, Space Cadet.” You exasperate, pulling on your jeans violently enough for Tim to hear the angry shuffling of fabric.

“Skinny dipping?” Tim huffs, a fond smile playing on his lips as he drinks in the timber of your voice. Even when you were absolutely exasperated, your voice was still soothing or maybe he just misses your company. God, he’s such a sap.

You shake your head in disbelief. That was his take away? “Yes, Timmy, Buck-ass skinny dipping,” you laugh, coming out derisive and sharp. Tim groans this time filled with guilt. The first few sounds of another ‘I’m sorry’ form in the back of his throat as he runs his hand through his bed head. For once, you’re thankful that you’re nowhere near Tim because you are one apology away from decking him and you’re pretty sure that that’s a terrible thing to do to a sick person, especially one with no brain cells to spare.

“I- You were really looking forward to this (Y/n), don’t try to deny it.” You weren’t going to. He was right. You were looking forward to this date. You were impossibly, unreasonably giddy over the prospect of going to the planetarium with Tim this afternoon. WITH Tim. Sure, you’re pretty down about it but you were the tiniest bit more concerned about the fact that your boyfriend had water in his lungs and almost died of hypothermia for a hot second. You pinch the bridge of your nose, hoping that worry and murder radiate off of you in equal measure. “I was also looking forward to my letter from Hogwarts,” you sneer, pausing dramatically to look at your watch, “and it’s been roughly a decade.” You hear Tim swallow and the hairs on your neck bristle in petty satisfaction.

Tim chortles, a lively sound that startles you, then coughs but the sound comes out somehow sounding doubtful and teasing. Embarrassment flares up in you. “You were too!” you protest, hackles drawn to full height. A short breathy laugh leaves Tim and you feel the flush on your face ease into something softer and more rounded. All the sharpness in your veins dissipates as the flash of fondness for that stupid laugh takes over. You can imagine him warm under the covers smiling at the phone at your blunder. “Please, (y/n), my hopes were dashed when I was 4 and still not in the Jedi order.”

“Bullshit, you were never a child,” you snort, sharpening the grin on your face into something vicious. “I refuse to believe you were ever a child! You probably sprang out of a textbook fully formed- Wait, I’m getting off-topic. ” Tim hums innocently and you narrow your eyes at the phone, hoping he can feel the ‘I am revoking your breathing privileges’ look. “You always are.” Tim says before falling into a coughing fit.

“Sorry, Cosmo, I just keep getting lost in your eyes,” you whisper, pitching your voice rich and caramel smooth. There’s a sound on the other line. Tim is babbling you realize. You hear a shuffle of fabric and a body rising. Tim sucks in a breath, red-faced and caught off guard by the sudden shift in tone. He can practically see the cocky grin playing on your face, the light of the sun reflecting as golden flecks in your eyes. “You can’t even see them!” Tim stammers, glowering at you through the phone. You cackle at him as if sensing the venomous look he’s giving you. “You can barely open them!” Tim rolls his, very much, open eyes, falling back into an unnecessarily large pile of pillows that Alfred insisted was necessary for bed rest with a loud ‘fwoof’. “Yes, I can,” Tim mumbles, sounding young for once. You do your level best to smother a grin on your face. “I’m just really drowsy from the chamomile tea Alfie gave me.” You stop dead in your tracks, one hand half in your coat the other on the doorknob. You blink. “You’re at the Manor?”

Tim pauses, making a frustrated noise. He shouldn’t have said that. “Dick and B… insisted.” This draws another one of your sharp laughs. He says insisted as if it was ever negotiable. “Did they ‘insist’ before or after they blow-dried and hung you out to dry?” Tim squawks and you hear shuffling again. Tim tries to remember why he doesn’t hate you. “Tell me again how you found out about me getting sick? Steph? Cass?”

“Hmmmmmm, Dick.”

“THAT TRAITOR”

“Funny way to pronounce older brother,” you hum smug. You can feel Tim glaring daggers at you. “You-”

“There’s a home theater, yeah?”

Tim pauses, this time longer. “I don’t like where this is going.”

“Answer the question, Space Case.”

He sighs. “Yes.”

“Great! It’s a date then,” you say, mentally preparing a route to the Manor from the vague directions Steph told you once. You could just use the maps app-

“NO!” You freeze. Tim flinches at the volume of his own voice. He whispers an indiscernible ‘I’m sorry’. You turn it over in your mind before speaking. “No?” You ask, trying your best to sound hurt instead of amused. Maybe you should have pitched your voice higher, more shaky. “Look, Tim, I-” Tim heaves a loud sigh. “-(Y/n), you’re fine-” Well, you aren’t, you think. You bite your tongue, physically to make sure you don’t say anything unnecessary. “-It’s got nothing to do with you. It’s- It’s just my siblings...” Tim knows that his siblings have been talking about you.

“Timmy, I can take whatever shovel talk they can give me,” you say with the confidence of someone who has never been dangled over the edge of a roof top. Ok, to be fair, YOU had nothing to worry about. Tim, on the other hand, was going to get roasted alive. Maybe he can persuade you into not- Tim hears the tell tale sputtering of your bike’s engine and he feels his blood pressure spike. The engine genuinely sounds like a death rattle.

“You’ll get sick.”

You swear and he hears another sputter of the engine. “You’ll get sick,” he croaks again, louder this time hopefully over the dying engine. Maybe if your engine dies right now, he’ll be spared from a slow agonizing death via siblings. “Relax Cosmo, I have the strongest ward against whatever you got,” you say, giving the engine a light kick. Tim hears a few metallic clunks then the engine stutters to life. Tim looks up past the ceiling trying to glare at whatever cosmic being resurrected your engine.

“Which is...”

“Being broke. It does wonders for your health.”

“Yeah, I don’t think that’s how it works,” Tim says, shifting burying his head against the too soft pillows. The soft fabric makes his eyes feel heavy. He yawns. He hears the sputter or your laugh. It’s hard to tell from the sudden drowsiness making his head swim.

“I promise I’ll explain to your typical rich kid ass when I get there, Tim.”

“That’s not how it works,” Tim slurs, face pressed into a pillow.

You laugh, he’s sure this time.

“I’m-” Tim’s mind unfocuses and the words you say garble together ”-Tim. ”

Tim blinks, mouth moving to ask you to repeat that but the last thing he hears is a soft click.

On the bright side, it would just be him and Alfred at the manor.

_________________________________________________________

Batmanisfake: I heard (y/n)'s coming over😶

Nightwingingit:👀 How do you even know that?

Batmanisfake: What are you? A cop?

Nightwingingit: say that again but slowly 🙄

Batmanisfake: ...

Damian: He bugged Drake's phone. For blackmail purposes, of course.

Nightwingingit: JASON

The Cool One: Shush Dick! He's onto something

Batmanisfake: Thank you

The Adult: I for once had nothing to do with it😌

Theactualbatman: I'm assuming we're all coming home tonight?

The Cool One: I'll bring popcorn

Damian: Nonsense Pennyworth will likely have some prepared

The Cool One:😭 We really do not deserve that man

Nightwingingit: Definitely

thesaneone: We're recording Tim's face when he sees us, right?

Batmanisfake: From all angles

The Adult: You're all horrible

Batmanisfake: Please like you're not hacking into the cameras as we speak, Babs

The Adult: You have no proof👀

_________________________________________________________

Tim’s head felt thick and gooey like one of Alfred’s custards. He feels like he’s floating, like he’s in a fish tank. There’s a sickly Chlorine smell clogging his nostrils; it smells powdery and sterile and reminds him vaguely of aspirin. Tim blinks. His eyes hurt; they feel puffy and sore and hot. His vision is further obscured by a thick layer of fleece blankets Alfred had piled high over him. He shuts his eyes still feeling too overwhelmed by the low light coming from the window.

Tim thinks he hears his window open with a soft click. Tim quiets his breathing. His hearing is too muddled to process anything beyond it. There’s a soft thud of heavy boots in the room; it’s imperceptible and dreamlike the way it reaches his ears that it has him shifting under the covers trying his best to discern the sound. A dozen lighter footsteps follow it and he can sense 6 shapeless bodies hovering over him.

“Should we wake him up?” asks a voice that vaguely sounds like Cass.

There’s a shuffling sound. Leather, he thinks. “Wait, lemme take a picture.”

“Red, why? It’s not like you can blackmail him with pictures of him sleeping.”

“Because, flashlight, I need proof that Timbo sleeps. ”

“Because?”

“Ok, how many times have you seen him asleep?”

“Uh...”

“Exactly!”

Tim hears a laugh that distinctly sounds like Dick. “Does it count if Alfie drugged him?”

“Maybe?” Steph says, shrugging.

“It doesn’t, Brown.”

“Damn it.”

“Does that mean B doesn’t sleep?”

“Nope.”

Maybe if Tim keeps sleeping, they’ll go away on their own. Tim wraps the sheets tightly around himself, hoping the large stack of fleece would be enough to muffle his siblings.

“I’m pretty sure I have dibs on waking him for opening the window for you shits.”

“Red, anyone could have opened that,” Duke laughs, stepping slightly behind Cass, who at the moment was paying more attention to the moving pile of fabric. Maybe if Tim stays really still she’ll turn her attention to something else.

“Cass and Dickface would have just broken it.‘

“I would not!”

“Sorry, Cass, you would.”

“Steph, whose side are you on?”

“Why is no one defending me?” Dick sighs.

“No one cares, Dickface. And Blondie’s clearly playing for the right team-” Steph cackles. “-none of you have any finesse.”

“Not all of us can be drama queens, Todd.”

“You’re like the third to the last person I wanna hear this from.”

“Third? You’re ranking us now? Who gave you the right?”

“Alfred,” Jason deadpans, “And yeah. Bruce and Dick are first and second.”

“Hey!”

“Can it Mr. Pretty Man Down.”

“That was one-”

“What rank am I?”

“uh … fifth.”

“Fifth?!”

“Sorry, Blondie, Cass has you beat with that ballet kick thingy.”

“Ok, yeah I can accept that. What about Babs?”

“What about Babs? The woman can kick my ass six ways to Sunday. ”

Tim’s head throbs all over. There are soft pin pricks pressing on the sole of his left foot; his leg jerks involuntarily. He wants to scream. Tim swears under his breath. A gloved hand pries the covers away from Tim’s face. Tim squints his eyes open only to be greeted by Dick’s kind, but still very punchable, face. Tim takes a long rasp, pinching his features in a mix of annoyance and despair. “Why are you-” Cough! “-here?”

There’s a slight quirk to Dick’s smile.“They wanted to meet (y/n),” Dick explains in a sweeping theatrical motion of his hand across the room directing Tim’s attention to the expressions on his sibling’s expressions which were all a variation of devious scheming.

“How did-” cough. “- you even know-” cough. “-(y/n) was coming?” Tim asks, shooting up from his pile of pillows causing a couple of blankets to topple to the floor to the ground. Tim’s lightheaded. He suddenly feels a shift in his balance, a feeling of vertigo. He nearly topples to the ground, his blood not quite catching up to his movements, when feels hands wrap around his shoulders. “Woah there Baby Bird, slowdown.”

“Answer-” Cough!

“It was Todd.”

“You mutant sperm!”

“Jay, aren’t we all mutant sperm?” Steph laughs, slinging one arm over an irate Damian’s shoulders and another over a fuming Jason’s shoulders. Tim groans, sounding pained. “How much do I need to pay each of you to get all of you to go away?”

“A lifetime of IOUs,” Dick says, casually.

“NO!”

“All of your share in W.E.,” Duke says, laughing. Steph elbows him lightly, also laughing. “You’re shooting prelow there, Slick,” Steph teases. Duke shrugs still grinning. “Gotta keep it realistic, yanno?” Steph and Duke keep bickering.

“Drake, kindly, pay with your life.”

Tim scrunches his nose. “I’m already on my deathbed, you know, dying. What else do you want from me?”

“A more agonizing death.”

Jason grins, tilting his chin. “C’mon, Timbo, we can help with your little impromptu date.” Tim groans, placing his face in his hands. “Please just help me dig my own grave.”

“What would be the fun in that, Timbo?”

“For you or for me?”

“Come on, Tim, it’ll be fine,” Cass says, clearly not believing the words herself. All seven of them dissolve into another round bickering. Damian, Jason, and Steph hellbent on giving Tim an aneurysm. Duke and Cass playing at being neutral; Duke leaning on Tim’s side but laughing way too hard at Steph’s well placed jabs; Cass is only mildly siding with Tim to spite Jason. Why this time? Tim has no clue.

The string of banter is broken up by the echoing the doorbell. Tim’s heart seizes as they all fall silent, enraptured by the odd sound of a doorbell filling the hallowed halls of Wayne Manor. The chiming of bells ends with the creaking of the large oak doors in the front of the manor.

Before Tim’s sluggish brain could even formulate a thought, all of his siblings are all bounding towards the door, bouncing off the walls and flipping over obstacles. Tim scrambles, lagging, after the hoard of vigilantes barrelling towards you. Tim tries to shout after his siblings but his voice is drowned out by raucous laughter and bickering.

You stand at the door, head haloed by the pale afternoon light as the sky catches fire, flecks of snow sparkling in your hair. You tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear as you sheepishly thank Alfred as he takes your coat.

Tim struggles to breathe an he genuinely doesn’t know if it’s because of his lungs, you, or the fact that of all his siblings, Babs was the one who got there first and Tim genuinely doesn’t know if Babs is there to hold off the gaggle of vigilantes or to scare you off. From the jovial grin wrinkling your features, Tim’s pretty sure Babs just gave you some blackmail material instead of putting you through the ringer- an equally scary outcome. For your part, you don’t look even slightly phased by the fact that Babs is in a wheelchair or even by the way she’s clearly sizing you up. All of this rolls off of you with an easy motion of your shoulders as you answer her questions in the most frustratingly oblique way based off of Babs’s expression. Tim can’t help the curve on his lip as you blatantly dodge another of Babs’s questions with a smile. You spot him, winking, and the tips of Tim’s ears flush.

Your cocky demeanor fades when a gaggle of batbrats crowd you; nervousness creeps into your form, ironing out your posture into something unnatural and defensive. “Is this a bad time?” You ask through a tight lipped smile. Babs glares at them but doesn’t make any effort to hide the satisfaction at your shaken demeanor. “Don’t mind them, Sweetie,” Babs says, patting your back and guiding you away from the gaggle. You shuffle awkwardly, trying to coax your spine back into a more natural curve.

“(Y/n)!” Tim manages between gasps for air. Making a person with non functioning lungs run has to be some sort of human rights violation. His voice is louder than he anticipated. He realizes, but the apprehension in his body flits away when you beam at him-a wide cheeky smile that has his body vibrating with delight. He made you smile like that, Tim thinks, heart swelling almost enough to soften the impact of the next few words. “Hey, Duckie!” you chirp tilting your face in a cute lopsided smile.

“Duckie?” Jason sniggers.

Duke’s face passess from confusion, realization, then amusement in a matter of three seconds.“Duckie? As in ‘quack quack’?” Duke asks, pretending to still be dumbstruck.

“Yes, Duckie, Tommy Terrific,” you say, the lopsided smile curving into a playful grin. The dumb nicknames earn you a loud, surprisingly nonthreatening, approving laugh from Jason who then says “We’ll keep those nicknames in mind” which just drags pained looks from both Tim and Duke. Dick and Damian on the other hand look absolutely delighted.

“(Y/n), tell them about the other nicknames,” Steph says, grinning savagely. Your eyes widen and you wrinkle your nose, mouth twitching from side to side, trying to pretend away the heat rising from your cheeks. “Not on your life, Stephie.”

“Aaaaaw! Not even for lil ol’ me?” Dick pouts, throwing his arms around you. The familiarity of the action has Tim bristling. “Pleeeeeaaase,” Dick whines; a smile hidden in your hair, “not even for Alfred’s cookies?” You make a noise caught between a laugh and a groan. “Hmmmm… maybe? Throw in some candy.”

“Deal.”

Tim blinks. “You’d betray me for sugar?”

“Cus I ain’t getting any while you’re sick,” you cackle, grinning along with Dick who looks way too pleased with the outcome of the conversation. Tim desperately wants to melt into the floor. Looking at all his siblings who are eagerly awaiting for the litany of nicknames, Tim cuts in. “Let’s just go watch that film.”

“What are we watching?” Cass asks, leaning to look over your shoulder, clearly shoving Dick out of the way. Dick does his best to not budge.

“What do you mean ‘we’?”

“We are under a communist regime, Timbo. We’re all watching it together,” Jason says, slinging Tim over his shoulder.

“Have a heart, Drake. We only want to spend family time together,” Damian says, somehow still looking imperious even from where Tim is dangling. A dull ache starts spreading across Tim’s like his skull is being squeezed.

“Hope you guys like Clue,” you say, fishing it out of your cornucopia of unhealthy junk food. “I figured you detectives would like a good mystery.” Dick snorts taking the disc from you and reading over the contents efficiently. “Bet you I can get the ending even before any of you.”

“No, you won’t,” Jason barks, setting off a long winded argument about who the best detective is.

“Didn’t you say you would eat me if I spoiled another mystery movie for you? Are you planning to eat my entire family?” Tim croaks quietly. You scrunch your nose, twitching your mouth four times to the left and four and a half times to the right. “Technically, what I said was ‘I’ll respectfully go back to juvie for cannibalism if you spoil another movie that night’,” you hiss low, trying not to draw attention to your conversation. Unfortunately for you, his siblings have good hearing.

“And this is different how?” Tim asks, this time not bothering to control his volume.

“You’ll never figure out the ending,” You say smiling innocently. Tim rolls his eyes and huffs a ‘we’ll see’. It doesn’t wipe the smile off of your face.

As it turns out, the Wayne Manor theater is less of a theater and more of a bean bag storage closet with a large screen. Jason tosses Tim unceremoniously into one of the random bean bags in front of the couch before gracefully pirouetting into the couch. You chuckle and continue your search for something to put your Bluray in, just now realizing that you should have probably just asked for their Netflix password or something. Alfred appears out of nowhere handing Jason and Cass each a bowl of buttery popcorn and scolding Jason about manhandling his brother in front of a guest. Jason looks unrepentant. No surprises there. With a swat on the back of Jason’s head, Alfred turns to you, gloved hands extended out to you. “I can take that."

“Oh… Uh thanks- Thank you,” you stammer. To your left, Tim snickers and your hand slip, somehow the blanket Babs handed you finds its way to Tim’s face. “Shut up, Ducktective. He’s practically your grandpa and I kinda wanna make a good impression,” you hiss, cheeks warming. Tim coughs, a little dumbfounded. Somehow it hadn’t occurred to him that you were nervous about this.

Tim checks if his brain is on straight before speaking. “Relax, you haven’t physically assaulted me or any of my family yet so you’re immediately at the top of Alfie’s list.” You open your mouth to speak then curl it into a frown, looking appalled and concerned. Apparently, his brain wasn't on as straight as Tim thought. "Am I going to have to fight your exes? At some point?"

"No!"

"Yes!" Steph says, handing you a red bean bag. Tim scowls at Steph as he watches the color drain from your face. She just shrugs and goes off to annoy Dick.

“Mr. Boddy?” Damian asks incredulously, reading the box summary again. “You’re kidding.”

“Nope,” you laugh, setting your bean bag next to the one Jason dropped Tim in. Damian rolls his eyes. “This is a stupid movie. Do people really consume this drivel?”

You scrunch your nose but don’t put too much heart into glaring. Thankfully, color is now returning to your face. “The movie hasn’t even started yet!”

“Relax (y/n), the tiny mutant sperm is just playing elitist,” Steph says, plopping next to Jason and eyeing his bowlful of buttery popcorn.

“As long as it isn’t as bad as the Happening-”

“Dude, you live in a city with Poison Ivy. That thing is pretty much a documentary,” Duke says hesitantly taking the spot between Steph and Cass.

"Please, for the love of Alfie, please, talk about something else," Dick whines, plopping a bean bag next to Tim. Jason’s face twists in confusions before his eyes light up and untwists into an expression with amusement. "Is it because of the-" Dick hits him square in the face with a pillow, all the while screeching "Think of the children!"

"Where, Dickface?" Jason ask, prompting Dick to point(jazz hands) at Damian who rolls his eyes. Jason does the same, looking younger than the toughened exterior suggested. "That's a gremlin, Dickface. Not a child."

"He is-"

"SHUSH! The movie is starting!"

You giggle, curling into Tim's side and placing your head in the crook of his neck where you usually like to put it. Tim's insides shiver from the contact and his hands automatically coil around you, pressing his nose into your hair.

"Jeez, her melons are big," Babs says flatly taking another handful of Dick's popcorn from Damian. Cass snorts and Tim feels embarrassment creep into his skin. He flicks his eyes to you, only to find you smiling into his side.

"They're almost as big as Dick's," you chuckle.

"Nah, Jason is bigger," Cass pipes.

You eye Jason openly which makes the large man cross his arms over his chest. "Huh, you're right," you note with more confusion than anything.

"Bruce has moobs too!" Jason protests, red-faced.

"Son, why?"

The chatter falls silent when the figure at the edge of the room settles itself into the large leather recliner in one corner of the room. You squint your eyes to distinguish its features from the rest of the shadows in the room; only to be greeted by the solemn features of Bruce Wayne. Your breath catches and you feel your skin jump twenty feet in the air. Everyone else in the room seems to have about the same reaction even as he pulls a lever to raise the foot rest. You all follow his movements with interest.

“Is Bruce trying to relax?” Duke whispers to Cass who shrugs in response. Steph rolls her eyes, reaching over Duke to try and snatch some popcorn from Jason who just raises his bowl higher. “Shhhhh, Duke, let the B man try to play human,” she says, snatching at the popcorn til the bowl just falls on Jason’s head.

“He’s trying I guess.” This draws a startled chuckle out of you that you try to press in Tim’s neck. The vibrations against his skin has him shivering.

“B, are you ok?” Dick asks. This makes Bruce’s features move in a slightly concerned fashion which in Bruce speak is very concerned. “Yes, why?”

“Ooooh, no reason, old man.” He turns to Babs. “Yeah that’s not Bruce. Five bucks says it’s a robot.” Babs snickers, grabbing a ten from her purse. “Ten says it’s an alien.” You twist to look at them, taking out a twenty. “Twenty says it’s just Mr.Wayne.” Jason sneers at you, taking your money. “You clearly don’t know the old man.”

“Can we please just watch this film in peace?” Bruce groans, running a hand over his face, finally looking more like the long suffering single dad of eight kids that he should be. Babs looks over her shoulder, slinging Bruce an absolutely disbelieving look. “Do you even know your children?”

“Yes, father, have you even watched us bond?” Damian asks, using his free hand to do air quotes for the word ‘bond’ while using the other to try and swipe some popcorn from Cass. It doesn’t work.

“That definitely isn’t Bruce,” Dick hisses, trying to shield his own bowl of popcorn from an irate Damian.

“SHHHHHH! I can’t hear the movie!”

“It’s definitely the butler,” Dick declares. Damian scowls, throwing a pillow at him which Dick catches with ease. “Grayson, the movie has barely started.”

“It’s definitely the butler. It’s gotta be. It’s always the butler.”

“That’s very offensive to Alfred, Dick,” Cass says, grinning. Alfred sniffs poshly in his own recliner. Dick recoils but Jason piles on. “Very classist of you, Dickiebird.”

Duke snorts. “Nah, I think he’s just saying it because Tim Curry was Pennywise the Clown.”

“Why would you trust a clown?”

“Oh my god, why are you guys comparing Alfred to a clown?”

“We are not!”

“This conversation is a trainwreck,” Tim groans into your hair. “Dunno, Tim, it sounds like a success,” you laugh, pressing closer. His eyes flick between you and his siblings. “You planned this.” You look up at him, failing to flatten a smile. “Nope.”

“I say it’s Ms. Scarlett,” Bruce says, rubbing his chin contemplatively.

“You’re just saying that cus she reminds you of Selina,” Tim huff, grinning and you’re half tempted to pinch his cheeks. Bruce cuts him a scathing look that has you shrinking; the grin on Tim’s face just broadens which just makes the playful scowl on Bruce’s face deepen. “Need I remind you who pays for the internet?”

“Alfred?” Tim asks, innocently.

“Careful Tim, B man might actually do it. Hell, he’ll probably do it if he finds out what you did last Thursday.”

“Do you mean the explosion on Fifth?” you ask, turning to Steph. Steph gives you a firm nod; in the corner of your eye, you can see Bruce arching a brow. Tim gapes at you looking absolutely gutted. “What happened to snitches get stitches?” Tim protests.

You shrug, grinning. “Sorry, Duckie, I stand by my cookie dealer. Who do you think sneaks Duke and me cheetos in Western Civilization? I stand by my fellow barbarian.”

“You know Duke?”

“I pay him to-”

“Shhhhh!”

“You guys are talking too!”

“At least, it’s movie related!” Damian hisses.

You throw up your hands with an exaggerated flail. “Fine!”

“I say it’s the shifty looking lady,” Jason declares, reaching over Duke and Steph to try and snatch some popcorn from Cass. You wonder why Jason doesn’t just snatch some from Alfred since he’s closer. You try to ask Tim but he just shakes his head at you. “Ms.Peacock?” Cass asks, shoving Jason’s face away with butter covered fingers. Duke tries to snatch a few kernels in the confusion only to get his hand swatted. “I think he means Mrs. White,” he says, waving his hand. “Yeah that one.”

“It’s the butler! It’s always butler!” Dick protests.

“I will fucking riot if it’s the butler!” Steph shoots back.

“It can’t be the butler.”

“Why not, Dami? He has motive.”

Damian rolls his eyes.“Gordon, why are you siding with Grayson?-” Babs opens her mouth to answer but Damain continues before she can get another syllable out “-nevermind. He doesn’t have as much motive as the rest of them. Besides, does he really look competent enough to hold a gun left alone with a knife?”

Tim raises his chin from your head. “Demon Spawn, your standards for butlers is too high. Alfred is-”

“You say this like you have plenty of references.”

“Oh, Tommy Terrific, Duckie here is a posh bastard,” Jason sneers ruffling Tim’s hair. From the way, some of his hairs stick up you could guess that he still had some butter in his hand. Tim makes a face of disgust; you try your best to help him with his hair. “Jay, you say that but you’re like Mr. I need the correct type of wood for my bookshelves,” Steph laughs. “Just because I’m not a slob like the rest of you walking disasters doesn’t mean I’m posh.”

“Yes, it does. You lived here. Yanno with Alfie,” Dick says, pulling out another pack of snacks he’d managed to snag from your bag. You’re not gonna ask at this point. Tim gives you a look which roughly translates to ‘I am very sorry for my trainwreck of a family’. You snort at him before turning towards his sibling. “I mean look at Cass. She’s still feral.” If looks could kill, the look Cass give you would melt your bones. Thankfully, Damian opens his mouth. “They’re all feral.” You have a sense that you’ve also been insulted. You hear Babs to your right laugh derisively. “You say this like you’re any less feral than the rest of us.”

“I am-”

“Are any of you still watching the movie?” Bruce asks and for the second time that night, your body tries to divorce your soul. You had almost forgotten that yes, you are watching Clue with the fucking Batman. You shift in your seat suddenly feeling a twinge of nervousness. Before the discomfort could nestle in you, Jason speaks up. “No, Bruce, we’re just watching Cass vacuum the popcorn into her stomach. What do you think?”

“You guys didn’t ask,” Cass says through a mouthful of popcorn knowing full well that’s a lie.

“How can any of you be watching it? All you’ve done is talk over the dialogue.” You almost laugh at how exasperated he sounds. Beside you, Tim just snickers and shakes his head.

Damian just looks at his father from his bean bag next to Dick. “Father, we can talk and listen. ” Dick, like the mature adult that he is, slaps his knee laughing. “I don’t think B is capable of that.”

“PREACH” was followed by a chorus of AMENs.

"Alfred, what have I done to turn my children against me?" Bruce asks, tiredly leaning back into his recliner.

"Master Bruce, how would you like me to list it?"

"Alfred not you too," Bruce groans, putting his hands in his eyes.

"Yeah! Alfie's on our side!" Jason cheers.

"Quite."

"Alfie is always the sensible one," Cass chuckles sensibly between bites. You hear varying noises of agreement and Bruce ages from suave debonair to extremely tired single dad.

"I assume Alfred is actually the boss here."

"Yeah, Bruce is actually on the bottom of the food chain here," Tim says. You tilt your head in contemplation. "Yanno that makes Batman so much less scary."

"B-man's just a giant softie," Steph chirps, slinging her legs over Duke and Cass's laps narrowly missing the nearly empty bowl of popcorn.

Dick turns to you winking. "Yeah, just give him the puppy eyes and he'll get you anything you want in 2 seconds flat."

"Dick…"

"It's true!"

"Even a carnival?"

"Can we please just watch the movie?" Bruce says, in an almost pleading voice.

"I wouldn't hold my breath, old man," Jason chuckles, earning a glare from both Bruce and Damian. "It's not like you know how to shut up, Todd."

"Sorry, I don’t speak gremlin."

"That's bull Jay!"

"MOVIE IS STILL GOING ON! SHUT YOUR CAKE HOLES."

“I TOLD YOU IT WAS THE BUTLER.”

“Yes, yes, it has been publiced and noted, Birdie,” you giggle into Tim’s side, shaking your head. He wraps his arm around you, pressing a kiss into your hair, winking at you. “Does it count?” Tim asks over his shoulder. A look passes between him and Cass. “I don’t think so,” she says grinning.

“It so does! It’s one of the endings,” Dick protests vehemently. Jason’s mouth flattens then curls into a grin. “By that logic, the old man is right too.”

Dick thinks for a moment, tapping his chin. “Well, we can’t have that.”

“Why not?” Bruce protests.

"I'm still sticking with the butler. I'm sorry this is the only logical conclusion."

"He wasn't even an actual butler you butter brain!" Steph protests, throwing a pillow at Dick.

"I'm sorry but can we address why you're all mounting a mutiny against me?"

"Teenage rebellion!" Dick answers.

"Chum, you're not even a teenager."

"Father's right. At most, Grayson is five years old," Damian pipes from beside Dick seemingly unaffected by his brother's pout.

"Alfred, you're going to have to check my blood pressure before patrol."

"Quite, sir."

“They’re all so dramatic just like you said,” you whisper into Tim’s shoulder.

“I AM NOT DRAMATIC”

“Ah, yes, because the pretty man pose is so pragmatic.” Damian deadpan.

"That was one time, you assholes!"

"Hey, what else did Timmy say?"

"Well he- Oh wait!" You fish out your phone and Tim snacthes it away faster than you can blink. "No-" cough "-you don't." Cough.

Jason snatches it from him, snickering at the photo of Tim kissing you on the cheek. You're pretty sure Tim has a matching photo with you kissing him on the cheek. "Nice lockscreen, (y/n)."

"Oh, you should see the homescreen!"

"No. Please don't. You might need eye bleach."

"Relax Space Cadet, it’s not that one."

"Ohohoho, what didn't you want big daddy bats to see? Haaa, Timbo?"

Tim turns every shade of red before settling on fire hydrant red. "None of your business!"

Bruce clears his throat, looking at a stupidly expensive watch. “It’s time.” Dick springs up, stretching and showing off. “Is it really that time already?” Steph asks in almost a whine. Duke and Cass take the opportunity to shove her off and sadly, she lands with a loud thud and a mangled curse. You wince but laugh unsympathetically which simply earns you a face full of dust covered popcorn. You frown at her and she grins at you as Jason hauls her up by her hoodie. “C’mon Blondie. Let’s leave the love birds alone.”

“It’s not like they’re actually gonna be alone. Alfie’s here. So is Babs.”

“I’m going back to my place. You people give me a headache.”

“You say that like you weren’t having fun,” Dick teases, walking after her.

“I’ll be down in the cave if you need me,” Alfred says waving at both of you. “Will do, Alf,” Tim yawns, nuzzling into your hair.

Cass pops her head back in. “Make sure Tim doesn’t do anything stupid,” She calls back. You grin, bright and wolfish. “Don’t worry! He can’t do me while he’s sick.” You hear Bruce choke in the hall and you just know that you’ll mentally kick yourself for that later. Luckily for you, Tim physically kicks you now. “What the hell?!” Cough. “Sorry, got caught in the moment.” You huff, trying to look a little sorry. Tim just glares more. “You’re not even close to sorry.”

“Ok. Yeah.”

“I have no idea why I love you sometimes.”

“My amazing personality?”

“Sure.”

“Love you too, Tim,” you chirp, kissing him. Tim’s lips feel hot after the quick peck and he pulls you closer. “I love you but I was pretty sure my family was gonna eat you alive.”

“They would have done it,” you hum, pausing before adding, “respectfully.”

Tag list: @batarella, @anothertimdrakestan, @lucy-roo, @multifandomgirl-us, @idkmanicantenglish,@birdy-bat-writes, @boosyboo9206, @americasmarauders , @l-inkage, @arestorationofbalance , @cloudie-skay, @wunderstell @hyp-oh-critical @glorified-red

#tim drake imagines #tim drake x reader #Tim Drake #batfamily x reader #batfam #reader insert #dc fanfiction #dc reader insert #bruce wayne #Alfred Pennyworth #dick grayson #Damian Wayne #Jason Todd #stephanie brown #cassandra cain #duke thomas #batman #batfamily headcanon #batboys

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onlyhereforangst · 3 years ago

Text

WWR

Alright y’all a likely final WWR coming at you, you know 3 months late the day of the dreaded s19 premiere. This definitely gets ranty and emotional, if you’re a Gibbs stan scroll the fuck away & don’t send me hate anon. This is bittersweet and it hurts and I’ve been living in denial for months but I needed this little bit of closure before the writer’s absolutely fuck it up in less than 6 hours. I hope you enjoy my emotional ramblings & I’ve absolutely loved writing these for the past two years, i’ll miss it & your reactions to it dearly ❤️

Badass Ellie is allllllways a treat, and protective nick contrasted to her making albeit slightly reckless decisions is top tier. And then followed up by him being impressed as hell??? He’s like damn my girl just did that and I am not turned on, no way, we are working I am not turned on, nope. Nick sitting at Ellie’s desk in the beginning PLS. Feet kicked up feeling mighty comfortable for someone who hates sitting at a desk 👀 only ok with it when it’s Ellie’s, huh Nick? Also I love that he’s sticking with the nonchalant approach like he did when he found her looking up Eastern Europe locations. He knows if he pushes too hard it won’t go well, but he is still concerned for her well-being. Those pieces slowly clicking into place that something isn’t just off- it’s worrisome off. Because while yes he’s still nonchalant he’s a touch more serious this time, ignoring her attempt at a brush off and claiming “he wants answers.” It’s a subtle step up from 18x14, but it’s there. His spidey senses are tingling and he’s getting less and less able to hide his concern for her 🥺 even if he tries to play it off as flirty banter because yes he’s still gd impressed with her moves and even tells Vance as such essentially.

Flash forward to at the stash house and they find the files plus the mini debrief back in the bullpen…I truly am inclined to believe Ellie doesn’t know here. I mean sure she realizes that the timing fits to a certain extent—she was at NSA when this happened, but I don’t think she knows this is the beginning of her end. She’s like “oh they’re selling secrets too” and “my contacts are all gone” like…I just, she seems too casual and not at all on edge. Idk so far I’m just not getting that vibe. She even brushed off McGee with the whole that was ten years ago almost like she didn’t remember it? But then at the same time she did bring up the whole legal vs ethical- she hedged, but she did mention it. She was not super gung-ho about OMG THIS WAS SO UNETHICAL WTF HOW COULD THEY DO THIS so still……..idk lets continue haha

Ok her knowledge of guns is slightly concerning but also Nick finds it concerning AND hot, boy can’t help himself lets be honest. That “damn” that slips out please, so many sirens going off in that head but also you’re just like well fuck talk dirty to me some more babe. Aaaaand here we go, here’s why I know Ellie didn’t know that odette was going to plant that shit right now. “Whoever took them from the NSA’s code-level servers risked a lot more than their career” with a little like duh face from Ellie SCREAMS that she did not, would not, EVER do that. The leak was fabricated by Odette and the fact that it would be planted during this case was all Odette unbeknownst to Ellie. Or why the fuck would Ellie so casually and somewhat judgmentally be like “who TF would leak something like that, man they stupid, committing treason and whatnot.” And Ellie is SHOOK when Vance tells her it was her. Like shook as in, blinks several times, shifts her weight back, glances at McGee with a flash of surprise in her eyes. That body language screeeeeams being caught off guard. If she had leaked those documents and if she had known this was a plant, she wouldn’t be caught off guard. And no matter how well you can try and play the part, that body language is legit. She’s shocked someone would even think about that and oh man, Nick. Nick’s face hurts me (and I know this is just the beginning). Because a man who has always seen himself as the bad egg, the criminal so to speak, the one who would do something shady before any of the others. He is shook and angry that Vance could even consider accusing Ellie of this. And then there’s the genuine concern etched on his face (and I’d know, the screen is currently paused on his face staring at Ellie with a worried furrowed brow and pain clenched in his jaw) because he knows logical Ellie wouldn’t do this but also he knows he’s been seeing little puzzle pieces fall into place of suspicious behavior and this is just one more thing that doesn’t sit right with him- doesn’t fit the woman he’s come to know and love. And while I know he truly believes she didn’t leak the files, I would bet right here he’s concerned about what the fuck she’s gotten herself wrapped up in.

And she continues to be adamantly against this, like Eleanor Raye Bishop would NOT ever leak intel, not as a baby NSA analyst who believed she was doing the right thing always in her role. Never once bringing up questionable ethics, she thought it was the greater good, that little patriot. She’s so adamantly against it and then Vance asks if she was framed, and I think that’s the point where Ellie realizes this is Odette. The word framed all of a sudden clicks it all into place and she picks up it might be “go time” for her. Her glances over at Vance have changed, they’re more cautious, calculating. She hears they’ve been leaked over ten years ago and she knows that she didn’t do it 10 years ago so this very well may be the notice of eviction from Odette. The “we’re coming for you, Agent Bishop” and her little look, oooooh Ellie is fired up. Her switch flipped and she’s now gotta hunker down and defend herself until she can confirm with Odette. Vance doesn’t even let her get a word in to “fight” for her innocence. But the fact that she’s getting sent home pisses her off, she wants to be close to the investigation, know what’s happening, and I’m sure a part of her still resists being dubbed that traitor of the state. Who knows, Odette may have never told her how she would become a disgraced NCIS agent, and this may have pissed Ellie off because her integrity is something she prides herself on. Her line, “I’m not Gibbs […] I’m innocent line” is like a tiny bright spot to chuckle in during this dismal finale. Gibbs hate train right hereeeee

Love that Kasie is immediately on the Ellie defense side, not looking forward to her reaction to Ellie leaving IF they even decide to show us.

Gibbs telling Ellie “sometimes there’s nothing left to be said” when he fucking up and left the team without so much as a goodbye or sorry for committing police brutality like fuck outta here Gibbs. Ellie is CLEARLY vulnerable right now, she’s been accused of leaking classified documents aka committing treason, she’s suspended, she’s on the brink of going on some dumbass undercover op and is begging, pleading, for any sign from you- her boss and father figure- not to do it. That he shows remorse for leaving the team without a word, that he regrets his decision to just disappear on them, that he wishes he hadn’t or he had done it differently. ANY kind of sign to tell her not to go through with what she’s about to go through. Literally any sign, and instead Gibbs gets defensive and bites back that she’s picking the wrong time in her life (LIKE HELLO YOU JUST SAID IT RIGHT THERE IDIOT, SHE’S GOING THROUGH SHIT MAYBE YOU SHOULD FIGURE OUT WHAT IT IS BUT NO YOU’RE WRAPPED UP IN GIBBS LA-LA-LAND AND HAVE SAID FUCK YOU TO YOUR SUPPOSED KIDS), so now Ellie is even more pissed and gets defensive back telling him he doesn’t even know what’s going on in her life and if that’s not a desperate cry for help I don’t know what is. like she is begging you Gibbs to pick up on it and figure it out, begging you to do your job that’s you’re supposedly so good at and save her from going through with this stupid mission. And then Ellie realizes that he stopped caring about them. He’d gotten so wrapped up in what he was doing, he stopped caring about their lives, the problems they were facing, anything. Him *not* realizing something was happening??? This is Gibbs, this is the man that always knows what’s happening before you even know what’s happening. So the words “I’m starting to realize that” hit like a fucking dump truck. He’s too preoccupied with his own boat-making nonsense that he can’t be bothered to have even an inkling of an idea of what’s going on in their lives. And he doesn’t seem to care that he’s dropped them from his life. And that’s when it hits Ellie, he’s never coming back. He’s cut the team out of his life and he doesn’t care. He has no regrets, he can’t even be bothered to have a single regret. And I think that, right there, is when Ellie decides she’s all in. I think there was always a small part of her that was hesitant to go along with odette. Hesitant to just upend her career and her relationships (aka Nick, but we’ll get to this), all of it. But hearing that the man she looked up to even though he’d made some mistakes, the man she viewed as a father, the one person who’d taken a chance on the nerdy analyst long ago, the one constant through all the turmoil she’d had, just left? Just left without a goodbye, without remorse, without even a parting thought for her? That was it for her. Whatever brainwashing Odette had fed her that she’d pushed back against from fully taking over finally broke free. And with it, Ellie grieves, she’s tearing up from knowing what she’s about to lose. Lose the man she viewed as a father, the coworkers that were like a family, the partner she’d found herself loving like she’d never loved before.

Ugh poor hurt Nick, he’s willing to do all the grunt work that he abhors in order to free up McGee so he can save Ellie. Nick knows he doesn’t have the skills and I think that’s killing him even more so. He can’t just do it himself, he has to rely on someone else to clear her name (to which he bumped back to last name in a last ditch attempt to maintain distance and keep some semblance of emotions in check, which is failing miserably), and that is killing the doer we know and love. LOL “so you’re both wrong” this poor man I love him, I can’t wait for the tears that will come from me later 🥲 nick immediately taking Jessica’s help, I love it. He’s like I don’t give AF who will help us but I am clearing this woman’s name if it’s the last thing I do. And then she walks in and he’s frozen. All these emotions running through him and then she’s there?? And she ignores him??? Ignores all of them?? Rushes past and storms up to the director on a suicide mission??? Yeah this is why I said that conversation with Gibbs was her last nail in the coffin. She hadn’t decided to go through with it (hence why she hedged earlier with Vance) and then he went and was a piece of shit so she said the hell with it and went all in. She can’t even bring herself to speak at Nick, barely looks at him, because she knows, she knows if she speaks to him, if he gets a chance to try and talk her down in the heightened emotional state she’s in after talking to Gibbs, she won’t be able to hold it in. She won’t be able to deal with seeing emotionally charged and hurt Nick. So she ignores him and McGee and does what she thinks she has to do. How hard did it have to be for Ellie to tell Vance not to defend her, and that their intel was correct? 🥺🥺 it goes against everything she’s ever stood for and she just went and did it. She hates liars and yet she lied. She loves her country and yet she claimed she committed treason. Her body language once again screams uncomfortable but trying to play it off. She’d nodding and repeating it over and over because she needs to convince herself of the words. They leave a bitter taste in her mouth and she can’t stop it. All she can do is clench her jaw a little tighter and get it over with and convince herself.

Nick is in disbelief, obviously. McGee looks like he’s five seconds from breaking down because his little sister is supposedly a traitor??? Like he can’t believe it. He’s hurt she would do something like this even though he still knows in his gut that it can’t possibly be true. And oh FUCK the part where Nick’s voice cracks asking if Vance fired Ellie. Fuuuuuuuck me. This man’s heart is breaking for what’s happening to Ellie and being completely in the dark about it. Sure they weren’t really clear on what “they” were after The Talk but still. He thought she was open with him. Ever since the jail cell, things had shifted and he thought she’d been honest with him. He’d picked up on those little things, but maybe it was just training or something, NOT committing alleged treason and quitting the one career she loved. Not leaving him in the dark and vanishing without so much as a word. Not that. Because she KNOWS his past, she knows how much shit he’s been through with people in his life leaving without so much as a goodbye. And his voice continues to crack asking about what’s going on because he’s literally in shock. McGee is desperately trying to keep it together, keep some sort of figurehead for the team. Nick is in shambles ok, just like I’m in shambles. He’s adamant she didn’t do it because he KNOWS her. He knows she would never in a million years leak classified intel and now he’s just confused like a lost and kicked puppy. She didn’t DO IT, and she’s not answering her PHONE. He just wants to talk to her, he just wants to know she’s ok, wants to comfort her, wants to convince her to stop and it’ll be alright and he’ll take care of her and he’ll save her because that’s all he wants to do and always has, right? Save her. Save her from everything in this world that could hurt her. Protect her from life’s dangers. Protect her because he can’t bear the thought of losing her. And that all is crumbling down around him. All of it, crashing down like an avalanche, ready to bury him alive in grief and guilt and despair and anger. How am I supposed to TALK to her, he just wants to fucking be with her. He just wants to be there. With her. For the rest of their lives.

Ellie looking at the hat, please. That’s a lifetime of regret packed into one facial expression right there. She’s looking at that hat, the one she cherishes from the moment Gibbs hands it to her, and knows it’ll be the last time she ever sees it again. It’s not something she can take with her, and it’s full of fond memories—most happy, some sad, a few bittersweet—but memories that have made her life whole the past 8 years. And there’s officially no going back, she’s admitted to treason, there’s no way out of that. She’s having to say goodbye to all of her career without saying goodbye to any of them, all of that is wrapped up in that hat. A hat that’s so simple but signifies so much to her. She definitely was not expecting McGee to come out and so her rebuttals to him are exasperated and grasping at straws initially. She tries sarcasm and then she tries to brush it off “it doesn’t matter, it’s done […] I get that, I don’t want to talk about it” when McGee voices that he’s hurt over this and her reputation matters to him. Because he’s like another brother to you dammit Ellie. Yeah he’s grown since he said Ziva was like a sister to him and just stomped on your heart, he didn’t say it then but you’re like a sister to him too Ellie. I love that he fights her on it, and Ellie is like shit I have to come up with something. I don’t think she expected McGee of all people to fight her on this and I’m so glad he did. A little bit of growth because he is not going to see another person he views as family leave him again. And Ellie’s half assed excuses please, all of it is just such BULLSHIT because when they first debriefed she was just like “ethical? Hmmm” nothing more, nothing about being a vigilante and being up in arms over this like she claims she was. Bullshit Ellie, bullshit. And the PARALLELS TO FUCKING GIBBS. THIS IS WHAT YOU DID GIBBS, THIS IS YOU. LOOK WHERE YOU FUCKING PUSHED ELEANOR BISHOP TO STOOP TO. McGee begging her to regret it and Ellie pulls a Gibbs and is like NOPE. WONDER WHERE THE FUCK SHE LEARNED THAT FROM HUH. Gibbs you are singlehandedly responsible for this shit and how Ellie broke Nick’s heart and whatever happens to her on this stupid mission. I’m glad your dumb boat blew up, you deserve it.

“I don’t want protection” because I can’t have you all following me.

“It kills me that I lied to the people I was closest to” not about what you think I’m lying about but what I’ve been hiding. It kills me that I can’t tell you the real reason for this. It kills me.

“It wasn’t years ago for us” McGee rip my heart out please it will hurt less. And Ellie just playing into all of it. Knowing that she needs him and everyone else to hate her and not trust her. Her entire livelihood and backstory rely on them hating her and not following her, believing she’s the enemy and she’s hid these kinds of secrets for so long. Believing she’s a criminal and it was all a farce. She has to play into it. She has to. It’s the only way she will survive, they’ll survive. Odette likely fed her this shit, cut all ties, make sure no one follows, make sure no one is attached, burn all bridges.

Ah and we’re back to pissed Nick. Nick who doesn’t like to be left in the dark ever, let alone when it deals with Bishop. Getting his edgy self being rude to Kasie but Kasie doesn’t even bat an eyelash. She knows Nick is hurting and she reaches out to him, she doesn’t take his tone to heart because she knows. Nick saying he wouldn’t know how she’s doing is just like a knife to the heart. He wants to know, desperately. He once thought he was the person she would go to in times like these but now all he’s getting is radio silence, a cold shoulder, and screened phone calls. He’s in visceral pain from the thought of her going through this alone, pain from everything he once thought true and good being destroyed in a day’s time. And Kasie is shocked that Nick hasn’t spoken to her. If that doesn’t tell you she knows that they are a thing and the gravity of all this, I don’t know what will. Nick should have spoken to her, clearly he wants to, in every other situation he would have already. But Kasie (and Jessica) just realized Ellie is shutting Nick out and that is Not Good.

Back to Gibbs. Fucking asshole he is. McGee comes to you desperate to help his sister, Gibbs’ “daughter” and he goes “I think she’s at a crossroads” ???? Acting like he didn’t fucking encourage her at this so-called crossroads???? Like ???? The fuck???? Her crossroads was painfully obvious when she came to talk to you and YOU basically treated her like you couldn’t care less about her. That you had no clue what she was dealing with in her life and said as much. So yeah, she WAS at a fucking crossroads until you SHOVED her into oncoming traffic and said have a nice fucking life. AND THEN. McGee wants to help her and Gibbs tells him he can’t??? “Not this time” bitch this is YOUR FAULT. YOU COULD HAVE HELPED HER. COULD HAVE TALKED TO HER AT LEAST SOMEWHAT AND YOU DIDN’T. YOU SAID YOU DIDN’T REALIZE SHE WAS SPIRALING AND THAT YOU DIDN’T REGRET LEAVING YOUR SO-CALLED FOUND FAMILY IN THE DUST AND GUESS WHAT. SHE WENT AND PARROTED YOUR WORDS RIGHT BACK AT MCGEE SO FUCK YOU GIBBS.

Ooooh Nick looks lethal, love that look, hate why he has that look though. Lol Nick getting ready to go murder the dude in interrogation because he set up Ellie and he’s just ignoring the fact that she claims she committed treason because he already knows there is literally no way on earth that she did it. And Vance realizing that Nick needs to stand down like fiiiiiiinally someone realized it. Obviously he isn’t gonna listen and poor Nick, this boy has it bad and he’s truly just SO WORRIED for what Ellie is about to do. Because right there, the confirmation that the file was a plant, that was the final puzzle piece falling into its perfect place. Every single thing he questioned, every little moment he’d replayed in his head, it all made sense. And he was so very pissed she hadn’t come to him- and honestly I think part of him is trying to ignore the WHY that’s behind that because he truly wouldn’t be able to think straight if he went there. I think that would be his end, going into the why she didn’t trust him, why she lied, why it hurts him so much. It would be the end, and yet…we’re just beginning here. And of course he knows exactly who is manipulating Ellie, he hadn’t trusted that scum from the start. So of course he goes straight to Odette’s cabin and lays in wait, probably pouring over all the documents and things Ellie did or didn’t leave behind there.

Ellie pulling up in the truck and that heavy sigh? Yeah, she’s still not convinced this is a good idea. She’s running on emotions but that logical part of her (and deep down, her heart, knowing what she’s about to do- who she’s about to cut out of her life) is whispering of how very bad an idea this is. She still has to gather her willpower to get out of that car but when it’s Gibbs calling her? The same Gibbs that basically just kicked her out the door without so much as a wave goodbye? Yeah, the emotion just came rushing back, pushing the logic aside. She claims she can’t tell Nick because no shit if she has to look him in the face and lie and still say goodbye, it’ll kill her. She’s honestly not sure if she can go through with it.

OH we back to a Gibbs hate novel, hold on. “I’M REALLY PROUD OF YOU BISHOP” WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK. I’M REALLY PROUD YOU’RE THROWING EVERYTHING YOU EVER WORKED FOR AWAY, PUSHING THE ONES YOU LOVE THE MOST OUT OF YOUR LIFE, SACRIFICING YOUR ONE SHOT OF LOVE THAT YOU OF ALL PEOPLE DESERVE THE MOST. I’M SO PROUD OF YOU. Oh fuck OFF Gibbs. “Following your gut” oh shut UP. I just don’t understand this part. I don’t understand it, and I’m trying so hard for it to make sense, for it to be in character. Like does Gibbs have any clue?? I’m sure he recognizes the signs, I’m sure he has an inkling at this point. So how would he be proud? How the FUCK would he say he’s learned some stuff from her. Does he mistakenly trust Odette because of what she did for Ziva? Is he just so self-absorbed he doesn’t completely comprehend what Ellie is doing leaving Nick behind??? And Rule 91 is a load of shit. “When you decide to walk away, don’t look back” how FUCKING STUPID. Like Gibbs of all people, you should understand that is a SHIT rule. You’ve lost the people you loved dearly and you think she should just never look back? Like are you saying this so that Ellie has a clear head for the undercover op? Are you hoping she doesn’t get herself killed by being wrapped up in what she left behind??? What the actual fuck. Stupid ass rule honestly. It’s what you live by Gibbs and look how well that turned out for you. Look at the family you ditched. Nice fucking job.

“It’s done” and “what are you talking about I did everything you asked” ok she’s 100% being manipulated and almost blackmailed somehow. There’s no other explanation. Eleanor Raye Bishop wouldn’t do this shit. Not willingly, not if she knew how much Nick loved her and how much she loved him (which if her words in just a minute are any indication, yeah she had a fucking clue). Odette calling Nick a loose end just SCREAMS how she purposefully fucking chose the moment Ellie and Nick started to get close to decide it was time for Ellie to go undercover. I just KNOW it. She’s a manipulative bitch and there is no limit to the rock bottom she will stoop to.

Ellie knows who she’s talking about and the just look of fuck I have to actually tell him to his face. The doubt and grief and guilt and all of it, flashing across her face as she realizes she has to do this. She has to face this, she has to lie. She has to break his trust (not that she hasn’t already) something SHE made so painstakingly clear she needed from Nick. Nick is rightfully *pissed* I mean who can blame him. Ellie with her, “I have nothing to be sorry for.” I know Ellie is just doing her best to burn bridges, the hesitation and avoidance leading up to this lends itself to no other interpretation. She is going to say anything and everything to make sure Nick does not follow her. Make sure he stays as far away as possible from her. She can’t bear the thought of him getting hurt in some way from all this. Even though he may not get physically hurt, I don’t think she realizes the heart break is going to be worse. The painful part is Nick understands, he understands why she wants to do undercover. He had seen that glimmer in her eye when they were Charlie and Luis, he gets it, he’s been there. And he wishes so desperately he could impress every lesson he’s learned on her right then and there but at the same time he knows it won’t change a thing. He just wishes in vain that their love would change her mind, even if logic wouldn’t, their love surely could. I think Ellie starts to realize just how much Nick can see through her and that’s why she owns up to the fact that Odette planted the files, and also why I believe the leak was all an elaborate hack that Ellie didn’t know about.

Then we get to the even more painful part of Nick giving us a glimpse of his raw heart. The why now with a voice crack and Ellie’s hedge at now wasn’t her choice with her own voice cracking, just is so so so telling. She could lie, she could really work at burning this relationship in a blaze of glory but she doesn’t, she owns up to the fact that she didn’t purposefully choose now (aka right when they were starting to figure things out between them), she’s not pulling the strings. Nick coming back with so you had a choice is like the little 5 year old boy whose dad is walking out on him again and it just HURTS. And at the same time Ellie is also the young, insecure agent right now who just wants to prove herself. She wants to be viewed as “ready” and the man whose opinion she bases way too much of her self-worth in didn’t say he was proud of her until she was upending her career to go on some deep cover op where she ditches everyone important in her life.

“How long?” “Too long.” Yeah ok FUCK ME. They both know exactly what they’re talking about without even saying the actual words. Ellie’s voice cracks once again because of the emotion in Nick’s voice and what he’s implying. It pains her to leave him and what they’re becoming behind. It viscerally hurts her, you can see it on her face. She doesn’t want it to be too long, but she knows it will be. She can’t fathom that he’d stay or wait for her, she doesn’t think she even deserves that.

Tbh it’s so hard to put this all into words. To fully convey to you how angry and hurt I am over this shit. Ellie’s being manipulated and hurt that she has to burn this bridge and push Nick as far away from her as possible. She thinks its her only out and what should be expected of her based off her conversation with Gibbs because then she parrots his exact words back at Nick when he begs, literally begs her to say something after she was willing to leave without saying goodbye (which we know is because she didn’t think she was going to be able to look Nick in the eye and still go through with it all), “sometimes there’s nothing left to be said” like fuck you Gibbs for planting that in her head. There’s PLENTY left to be said. Clearly Nick was not pleased you blew him off Ellie, he wants you to say anything that would make this make sense (we all are tbh) and she says you know my *favorite* line, “I didn’t mean for us to happen.” Nick is all of us with his “something else” because WHAT THE FUCK. This is how I know Ellie was going full throttle with her strategy of pushing Nick away. This was the one thing she could say that would hit hardest for Nick. The man who is insecure about anyone truly loving him and him being a person deserving of a love that “stays” and for Ellie to say she didn’t mean to fall in love and even though they did she’s still going to leave because it was never in the plan, just damn, stab him in the back and twist that knife Ellie. And just like her body language this WHOLE TIME 💀💀💀 she’s just shaking her head because she doesn’t even believe her own words, she doesn’t want to confront this, she doesn’t want to end this. There’s tears in her eyes because everything she’s saying is a lie and it hurts it hurts so damn much but she has to. She’s been manipulated into believing she has to do this, has to say these things. And his body language too, I mean he is tight. He is standing so rigid, hands clasped behind his back because he’s trying to convey openness and vulnerability and it’s so much growth for Nick, so much growth and Ellie is still ripping his heart out and stomping on it. And when she chokes out that goodbye you can hear and feel how final she believes it to be. She doesn’t think he’ll stick around or even want to. In this vein I think she underestimates his love for her here. And if the show goes a different way with it, they’re little bitches. It is in character for Nick to do everything in his power and outside of the rules to find & save Ellie. I will riot if I don’t see unhinged Nick some point early in s19 (I say like I’m going to watch religiously), because that is the only logical reaction to her leaving like this.

The kiss. It’s a beautiful fucking kiss and it’s ruined by context. It’s an emotional kiss, Ellie throws her body behind it, gripping his face with both hands because she doesn’t want to let him go (even though she’s going to), she clutches to this memory like she clutches to his face. Nick’s clenched expression because he doesn’t want to open his heart up to more heartbreak but when he leans into the kiss and gives the kiss back you know he’s a goner. And maybe a part of him doesn’t care because this may be his last memory of her for a long time and he’s going to burn it into his memory too. It’s why he keeps his eyes shut after she’s left for so long, he doesn’t want to open them and the reality of her retreating back be the last thing he sees of Ellie. He wants the kiss to be the last thing, he doesn’t want to face his reality. His hands had even come out from behind his back, reaching out to her subconsciously willing her not to leave. Meanwhile, Ellie opens her eyes for that last kiss on the cheek to get one last long look at Nick, one last look that will hold her over for who knows how long. A look at his vulnerable face, a face she loves. A look that she hopes will keep her warm at night even though she knows she’ll never get it this close to her again because there’s no way in hell that Nick would entertain the thought of them together again after what she’s done. She doesn’t look back because she can’t. She can’t see Nick’s wounded face just standing there, broken or she won’t go. And Nick tries to stand resolute, the anger and pain flashing across his face before he grits his teeth together and *hopefully* resolves to find Odette and kill her I mean save Ellie I mean kill Odette 🙊

Anyways, there’s only a very specific way this entire finale makes sense. And I know Emily’s pregnancy threw it for a loop, but they can still SOMEWHAT fix this. Do I think they will? Hell fucking no. I have zero expectations, in fact negative expectations. I have a feeling what we were supposed to see is Nick going on an absolute swan rampage to find Ellie and clear her name throughout the first couple episodes of s19 and with Emily leaving the show, I’m not sure how they’ll twist this. I can see why they thought this was a fun cliffhanger because it would eventually be resolved and I do believe they would’ve eventually gotten ellick together after Nick found her. But unless Emily comes back at the end of the show, that won’t happen, at least not on screen. And with that I just 🥲 I’m still mad, I’m still broken inside but yeah. I’m a masochist before anything else apparently and so I made myself rewatch and write this out. A bittersweet pissed off adieu to the WWR. maybe one day i’ll find another ship & show that gets this level of meta out of me, but it’s been real ellick, it’s been really real ❤️

#ncis #ellick #wwr #anti gibbs #seriously do not read if you like gibbs #this is your warning and if you send me hate anon for my take after i warned you you're asking for it #6k of 3 months of emotions right here on the day of the premiere #truly bittersweet to say goodbye to the wwr in such a shitty way #if there's even people still reading/following along #thank you ❤️

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sweetchup · 4 years ago

Text

A Helping Hand 4: Ghosts of Past // Day 3 🌙

Type: Shalnark x reader

Au?: Savior Au

Word Count: 2,000+

Warning: Past Character death, Bribing, Drinking, Trauma

Author Note: Sorry this came out a little later in the day than expected. I hope people like it and let me know in the comments who you think the ghosts are. Sorry for making y’all cry

<—(Pt.4.3☀️) / (Pt.5)—>

A Helping Hand Masterlist

“All right.” You mutter to yourself, quickly centering the fluffy cat plush on the grave before taking a step back to take a look.

You and Shalnark had done a lot for Pakunoda’s grave, from cleaning up all the dirt and cobwebs surrounding it to getting some of her favorite things to place on her grave. You just hoped, somehow and somewhere, she would be satisfied…

As you wipe the sweat off your brow, you look out the window towards the already night sky. Time had passed by so quickly while you were working. So much so, you had nearly forgotten about Chloe. Thankfully, Shalnark had offered to go grab Chloe for you at the last minute while you finished things up.

“Hey nice job. You even lit the candles.”

Speaking of the devil, you turn around to see Shalnark entering the room, Chloe trotting close right behind him. As the cat comes running up to you, you notice Shalnark holding two bags in his hand.

“What did you get?” You questioned out loud as you lean down to pick Chloe up. Shalnark gives you a confused look before looking at his hand and realizing what you were asking.

“Oh.” Shalnark fumbles with the bag before handing you a can, “I got us a couple of beers to drink.”

“Beers? Shal I don’t think…” You watched appalled as Shalnark proceeded to chug a whole can down in front of you. “...you should be drinking…”

“Oh come on, Doc. A couple of drinks won’t hurt anybody.” Shalnark chuckles out, jumping back onto the rock behind him to sit before pulling out another can. Suddenly as he takes a sip of his next one, a mischievous look flashes on his face. “Hey (Y/n). I say we have a little drinking contest to see who has a bigger toleran—.”

“Nope” You deadpanned, not even leaving room for Shalnark to argue back. As a gust of wind passes through the old building, causing it to moan lightly under the wind’s strength, you feel a shiver run up and down your spine. Damn, even though you were wearing a ski jacket and scarf it was still cold.

Shalnark lets out a small sigh to himself before shrugging his shoulders, “Fine, Fine. Guess I’ll have to drink this all by myself then.”

“Shal no—.”

Quickly, you attempt to take the can from Shalnark’s hand but the male caught onto your intentions and was much faster than you. Holding the can far away from your reach, you glare up at him in annoyance.

Unfazed by your threats, Shalnark leans forward to you and whispers, “Then, Drink with me (y/n).”

After a couple of minutes of staring each other down, and an attempt from Shalnark to chug down another beer, you realize you have to give in. Sucking your teeth in, you, begrudgingly, open a can and take a sip. Instantly, you feel yourself cringe at the bitter taste the beer held. It definitely wasn’t your type of drink to have.

“Am I sensing a chicken?” Shalnark teases out, already in the process of crushing his second can in his fist. You send him a quick glare, already wanting to just strangle him right then and there, as you bring the can up to drink from again.

You can feel the alcohol flow through your body almost instantly as Shalnark makes you drink more. It was just like what those textbooks you were forced to read in college said. You felt it in your brain first, euphoric and relaxed as if you had no worries in the world. Like a false haze fell over your eyes, blinding you from the rough truths of the world. Then, you felt it in your muscles. Your speech was getting more and more incoherent, your hands were shaky and, eventually, it got to be such a struggle to even stand that Shalnark had to help you sit down next to him…

To him…

You let out a small giggle to yourself as you stare at Shalnark. His blonde locks shimmering under the light blue glow of the moonlight as he tipped his head back once more to take a gulp from his can. His Adam’s apple bobbing back and forth a couple of times as he swallows before he pulls the can down to rest against his thighs. You watch as his aquamarine eyes, that seem weirdly more blue now, turn to look over towards you.

“What?” He questions out, his words coming out as a whisper, “Why are you staring at me?”

Because your Handsome, obviously?

Perplexed, you watch as Shalnark suddenly throws his head back in a fit of laughs. What… What was wrong with him?

It takes a couple of minutes but eventually Shalnark calms down and looks at you; his face covered in a wide grin.

“Handsome, Huh?” He teasingly questions out, giggling slightly as you choke on your drink. As you hack your lungs out, you can hardly let out anything, only able to muster a small murmur of a word after a couple of minutes.

“W-whAt…”

Shalnark gives you a moment to compose yourself, handing you a water bottle after your coughing calms down before proceeding to explain.

“I think you might have drinked a little bit too much if you can’t distinguish between your thoughts and what you say, Sweetie.” You flash Shalnark a quick glare at his statement. He seemed to be having a playdate with the amount of teasing and reactions he has been able to wring out of you. You will admit it was funny at first but now it was just getting plain annoying.

Just give him a good smooch. It’ll shut him up real good.

You nearly choked on your water as you proceeded to quickly spin around. What in the world was that. There wasn’t anyone else around from what you could see and sense but you could have swore you heard another’s male’s voice. It couldn’t be Shalnark either. The one you heard was ruff and rumbly, nothing like Shalnark’s. So—

“You okay?” Shalnark calls out, breaking you out of your thoughts.

You feel yourself pause for a minute, your thoughts needing a minute a couple of minutes to catch up to you before answering, “Ah… Yeah. I just thought I heard something…”

Shalnark thinks for a second before letting a light hum in response.

“I don’t hear anything. Well… Unless you count Chloe rolling around in the petals—“

You cut Shalnark off with a loud gasp, “Chloe No. No. No!”

Quickly, you scamper over to Chloe, picking up the cat before she could possibly roll and knock over anything on the grave. She was usually quite the respectful cat, not much to cause trouble, so it surprised you that she was acting like this. You hoped the gods, or whatever supernatural force that existed out there, won’t strike you down for your cat rolling around on Pakunoda’s grave like that.

“What’s with you Chloe… you never roll around like this unless someone is giving you belly rubs—” You end up cutting yourself off as a loud yawn forces its way out of your mouth. Oddly, the tiredness of today’s events suddenly hit you like a truck making you feel absolutely drained.

“Eh? Tired already?” Shalnark chuckles out as you practically collapse next to him. “You do know our hotel is on the other side of the city right?”

“Please tell me you’re joking…” You pleaded out. You knew, from experience, how hard it could be to grab a cab this late at night especially if your hotel is on the other side of the city.

“Sadly not Princess.”

You let out a small whine as you defeatedly fall backwards to lay on the rocks.

“Well, didn’t you stay here with the troupe for a while? Do you possibly have a place to sleep here, just for tonight?”

“Well, we do. But, when we stayed here in York New it was during the summer, not the winter. So we don’t have anything that could possibly keep us warm except for the candl— what…” You sit up a little as you hear Shalnark pause and suddenly rummage through his plastic bag, “A Blanket…”

After hearing what he found, you fully sit up and lean over his shoulder to take a look.

“That’s actually perfect.” You murmur out, reaching down to touch the fabric, “It’s big enough for both of us and the fabric is extremely thick to keep us warm. We will be perfectly fine if we have this and our jackets on.”

“I-it’s not that. It’s just I didn’t— this wasn’t… in the bag before. I didn’t buy this.” Shalnark mumbles out confused as moves around the blanket. Testing to see if he was really seeing what was in front of you two.

“Perhaps… you accidentally grabbed it or switched up with someone else’s bag?”

“W-well no. I didn’t see the blanket when I took out the drinks earlier—“ Shalnark is cut off as you take the blanket from him. As you unfold the fabric, Shalnark sighs to himself. What was he thinking? Getting all worked up over a blanket. You were likely correct, he or the cashier likely misplaced a blanket in his bag. Shalnark huffs out a laugh as a sudden thought comes across his mind. Uvogin would surely beat his ass if he saw Shalnark suspicious of a mere blanket.

A frown slowly makes its way on Shalnark’s face as his thoughts escalate. What was he doing? Sitting here like a school boy with a crush, falling hopelessly in love with you. He wasn’t dead, he still had his nen, the rest of the troupe is very much still alive… and Hisoka was still on the loose. Plus, if…

“What's important is the survival of the whole, not the individual."

"The worst case is all of us dying. The end of the Spiders."

… Hisoka actually succeeds in killing the other spiders then he would have to rebuild the spider… Right? And, you… you couldn’t come along with him if that's the case. You live in a different world than him. You were a caring doctor and he a cold blooded kill—

Shalnark winces as a firm smack hits the back of his head, nearly sending him flying forward.

“Ow. (Y/n)... what in the world was that for?” Shalnark grumbles out annoyed as he massages the back of his head. He’s not sure why you’re mad but you didn’t have to hit him that hard.

“Huh? What are you talking about?” You questioned out. As Shalnark spins around to give you a piece of his mind, he pauses. You… you were on the total opposite side of the giant flat rock in the process of setting up the sleeping area. “Ah. Do you mean these pillows? I found them in the corner. It’s so weird, they are practically brand new.”

“Oh yeah… that's it…”

If you were over there, then who smacked him. Was it…

… A Ghost?...

… No, no. That’s totally absurd. That’s the type of stories the boss would believe in, not him. He just… drank too much. Yeah, That’s it.

As Shalnark finally calms himself down, he decides to make his way over to you. Slowly, as you two settle down to sleep onto the cold surface, Shalnark can already feel you begin to drift to sleep off in his arms. He, very carefully, pulls you closer to him.

As he does so, he can hear the faintest whisper off in the distance. He almost mistakens it as the wind if it weren’t for the distinct familiarity in the voice.

Be selfish, Kid…

…

“Uvo…?”

Shalnark decided that night…. that you two were going to leave York New the very next morning.

Taglist: @meromelodi, @quartetstarheaven , @yumezai , @lvndrhwis, @writtenappreciation , @jojo-sinner, @pastelbear12 , @aly-kurta , @bbunnycore , @feifood , @akobere7u7 , @aleksa784

#hxh #hunter x hunter #phantom troupe #shalnark #shalnark x reader #shalnark ryuseih #a helping hand

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kinsurou · 4 years ago

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Forgive me Lord, for I am sinning

Pairings: Dabi (Touya) x Reader

Word count: 5.4K

Warnings: Smut (18+), Incubus!Dabi, Swearing, Dirty talking, Alcohol, Oral sex, Unprotected sex, Hair pulling, Slight mentions of breeding, Dabi being a little shit, Slight comedy.

Part 2 of the Incubus!AU. This one's a bit different from the first part. Special thanks to @dragonhrte for beta reading this monstrosity for me, and my friends @hawks-senseis @shoutogepi @honeytama @gr0vndz3ro @wakaoujisenhime @sailor-manga for listening to my non-stop ramblings as I worked on this piece! ❤

If somebody had said that after visiting your stranded family, you would end up coming back home bonded to a demon after getting laid inside the same church that brought nightmares upon you for years. You would have laughed at them before asking them to hand over some of whatever it was they may have drank.

But now, as an all too familiar weight drapes over your body, emitting such heat, that it covers your body with a thin layer of sweat despite the intensity of the air conditioner. Followed by a pair of warm lips slowly kissing the back of your neck, as they descend all the way to your lower back. Lastly, the pair of hands squeezing their way in between the mattress and your front to play with the soft mounds in your chest.

It all makes you think twice about everything you once believed to be nothing but myths and bedtime stories a parent would tell their child so they would behave.

An eyebrow twitched in annoyance as those hands pinched your nipples teasingly, tracing a small pair of piercings adorning the erect nubs. But you made no effort to move from your position in bed, trying to get as much sleep as possible before the start of the day.

“...What do you think you’re doing?” But your tired, sleepy voice was simply ignored, and the owner of those hands leaned down to purr softly over your ear as they started biting the lobe softly.

“Well...I firmly believe there’s no better way to start the day than with some nice morning sex.” Sharp fangs nibbled gently over your neck, right over the spot where a burgundy mark branded the sensitive skin. ”C’mon little one, I’ll be quick.”

Taking a deep, tired breath, a hand reached out for a small spritzer on the bedside table. Without even bothering to open your eyes, you quickly proceeded to spray the creature looming above your previously sleeping self, who by the way, started hissing painfully by the moisture damping his face.

“What the fuck is that?!” This time, you actually rose half-way from bed to glare at the demon rubbing his smoking face as if his life depended on it. Teal eyes were dangerously lowered into a glare, but honestly? After spending nearly two months stuck with Dabi, he didn’t scare you one bit anymore.

The demon that took you under the eyes of God and the little shit in front of your bed are two completely different individuals by this point. Now, every single day was spent being followed around the apartment by a horny demon trying to either seduce you or feel you up in order to satiate his hunger. Of course, it always backfired on him.

“Holy water.” The spritzer was pointed at him yet again, and he flinched back slightly, glaring at the plastic bottle with nothing but disgust “When I said I was mad at you, It was serious! Why are you still here anyway? Didn’t you get your own place next door?”

“Not really, just used my hypnosis on the old lady to get in.” He shrugged “If it makes you feel any better, I gave her back the keys some time ago. Told her I found them laying around.” He followed with a sly grin, that somehow riled you up even further “By the way, she thinks I’m your boyfriend.”

He got spritzed again, Much to his chagrin.

………

“So, ‘Touya’...” At the mention of his “name”, Touya looked up from his spot on the couch, frowning slightly after what happened that morning. Those little tantrums of the devil’s spawn usually lasted a few hours before he was back to his casual, lazy, and annoying self. “How did you become trapped in the church in the first place?”

“Why? Want to send me back? Sorry doll, but there’s no way I’m going back.” He got up from his seat and slowly approached while you were busy having some food. Coming up from behind, his face came from one side to give an alluring kiss to your jaw. “Especially now, that I have such a nice, little vessel all for myself.”

Even though you kept ignoring his approaches, those small shivers that went through your body with his every touch, were more than enough to nourish him for a while. But it’d be a lie if he said he wasn’t expecting a full meal like the one from that night.

“And what’s with this ‘vessel’ shit? Why me? There were plenty of girls back home, so why did you pick someone like….me of all people?” You jerked away from him, much to the demon’s disappointment, and picked up the empty dish, getting up from the chair to let it sink into the soapy water from the sink before turning to look at him with a frown.

“It’s just like I said before.” He twirled a lock of your hair between his fingers. “There’s something different about you. Besides, all of them are just like those instant meals you like, full of artificial shit. Like that cousin of yours, what’s their name again…? Meh, doesn’t matter, you know who I’m talking about, don’t you?”

You rolled your eyes and huffed knowingly, fully aware of who he was talking about. The family’s golden child. The one who’s never disappointed the family and is their little star. But behind closed doors? They were probably worse than you.

“But you’re different, want to know why?” He got so close, that you could feel the heat of his body through his clothes. His face was so close as well, and it was strange looking at him without all those stitches and scars. Now that you think about it, it’s been a while since he stopped using this “Glamour”.

“Because you’re not someone who’s afraid of speaking your mind, so what if you’re not their golden child? You’ve always stayed true to yourself.” A hand made its way inside your shirt, claws roaming seductively all over your back. You couldn’t help closing your eyes and gasp quietly as ‘Touya’s hand kept grazing your body with that burning, lust-filled touch.

But as soon as his lips grazed your own, the loud shrill of your phone caught the both of you off guard and nearly caused you to bump ‘Touya’ in the face.

Flushed face turned away from the demon, you turned all your attention to the device. The caller’s ID made you smile in excitement once you saw the name of your best friend, there was only one reason she would call you this early during the weekend.

“Hey, What’s up!” Her cheerful voice made you walk away from the sink, leaving a frowning demon behind. Touya only glared at the device as he saw you talking happily with the girl on the other side of the line. He caught the word “party”, and couldn’t help but smirk smugly once he realized just what that meant. He was really going to enjoy this.

“Alright, I’ll go get ready, see you there!” Ending the call with a squeal, you ran into your room to look for a proper outfit and do your makeup. He just followed behind silently and leaned against the open door, watching you get undressed with a hungry glint in his eye and a devilish smirk.

“Ugh...Which one should I wear?” You mumbled to yourself, looking at the two tops in the bed with a pensive look. Black or Blue top?

“The blue one looks better.” The demon’s voice surprised you for a bit before a loud shriek was heard as he got the other top thrown at his laughing face, but you had to admit he had good taste. The top he suggested had been sitting at the bottom of the closet for a long time anyway, so it was the perfect time to use it!

Grabbing a pair of black jeans, you quickly got dressed and began putting on makeup, just enough to make your eyes stand out with the lights from the club, and a beautiful shade of red that complimented your skin just perfectly. Lastly, a pair of boots that fit the outfit just perfectly. From his place, Touya gripped the fabric thrown at his face strong enough to slightly tear through it with his black claws. Pupils dilated at the sight of those boots adorning those beautiful legs of yours.

Checking the hour, you still had some time before meeting up with your friends. Snatching a small handbag nearby, you made sure everything was in place. Money? check. Keys? check….A condom, just in case? Check.

“I’ll be back later. If I find any of the neighbors at the door, I’m exorcising you myself!” You looked at Dabi with an annoyed squint, remembering the last time he got in trouble for scaring one of the nosy neighbors from the other building, claiming they had it coming for trying to peek through your window.

He said nothing as he saw you rushing out, a wicked grin appeared on his face as he thought of the surprise you might get tonight. It was going to be so much fun.

Two hours later, you were having the time of your life with the others. Taking shots, dancing to the loud music, and sharing looks with one of the hottest strangers you’ve ever met in your life while sitting at one of the barstools. Too intoxicated by the high from the party to notice the burning sensation around the skin of your neck.

“Sooooo, why haven’t you texted these past weeks?” Your friend sat down at your left, resting for a bit from dancing her heart out with this other girl that kept making eyes at her, much to her flustering. “She’s totally checking you out! Atta girl” She couldn’t stop giggling like a teenager at your remarks.

“I’ve been busy, lots of stuff that needs to be taken care of.” Like how to get rid of the demonic hobo that keeps stealing the instant ramen. But your friend only gave you a look while downing another shot of some liquid courage.

“The last time you said that we had to take all of the stuff you dropped at your ex’s home after you broke up with them. You’re seeing someone, aren’t you?” She gave you a knowing grin. This girl knows you better than your own family, but what were you supposed to tell her?

Yeah! I went to visit my family and ended up fucking a demon at the church, who just happened to move in with me and won’t stop trying to get laid!

At this rate, you’d probably end up locked up if someone could hear your thoughts.

Downing another shot, she stood up from her seat and made her way back to the dancefloor and into the arms of her admirer. Thinking about the situation back home left you thinking about Dabi, and that day back at the church. He may try to get into your pants nearly every single day, and yet, he usually stopped his approaches after a while.

Despite all the stress he caused, sometimes he'd go out of his way to help out, even though most of the time he kept messing with your stuff...Maybe...he wasn’t so bad after all…

“Gah! What am I thinking?” Shaking the thoughts out of your head, the drink in front of you was quickly downed.

“Something troubling that pretty face?” Another voice came from your right side before you had the chance to order another drink. Looking back quickly made your face get warm. The same guy that kept looking at you was standing right there. Just having him this close made something stir inside, as well as a burning sensation at your neck that was brushed off in favor of admiring this beautiful stranger.

“You can say that again, haha….” He sat down beside you, before ordering two beers and handing one over to you.

“Well, hearing a pretty one out is my specialty. Cheers for our troubled lives, am I right?” He raised the bottle before taking a big gulp of the cold, bitter liquid and you followed after him, the night passed by with some small talk and laughter as your face began getting warmer because of the alcohol.

And by the time the clock struck past 1 am, you were already close to this stranger at the far corner of the club.

….Or at least you tried to.

Another two hours passed by, and the sound of the door being slammed loudly caught Touya’s attention as he read one of your favorite books at the same spot from that afternoon.

“You….!” A furious growl came out of your throat. He didn’t bother looking up, already feeling the heated glare at the back of his head before hearing your marching to the bedroom, and he just grinned in realization once he caught a whiff of your scent.

Dropping the book carelessly behind him, Touya walked nonchalantly inside the bedroom, spotting you taking off all the make-up, half-ruined by your sweat.

“Something wrong, little one?” You turned to glare at him furiously, before throwing the cotton pat at him, which was quickly dodged. But he couldn’t dodge when you pulled him by the collar and began shaking him in anger.

“What did you do to me?!” He felt the frustration coming out of your body, and he also saw it on those fiery eyes of yours “I was this close, THIS CLOSE to getting laid with one of the nicest guys I’ve ever met in my life!” Your faces nearly touched each other “But right as we were about to do it, not only does this fucking mark starts burning like crazy! I couldn’t feel anything as he touched me!”

You smacked his chest rapidly, trying to let out all that pent-up anger inside, if only this bastard could actually react to your punches, it would actually be satisfying to hit him, but he wouldn’t even flinch.

Before a hand could land on his face, he quickly caught it mid-air, pulling you closer by the waist with something dark in his eyes. Bright, glowing eyes looked down at you.

“That’s just a side-effect of being a vessel. You can actually be pleased however you want, but there’s a catch.” The way he grinned gave away his answer even before he continued to speak. “As long as we’re bonded to each other, only a master can actually please their vessel.”

You pulled away from him, holding the wrist he held closer to your chest. Like he could tear off the limb in an instant if you weren’t careful enough.

“Besides, think about it. Why would you want to be pleased by a mere mortal, when you know just what exactly your master can offer? Or have you forgotten that night? When you could only scream how much you adored my cock?”

As much as you wanted to pour the contents of the spritzer on him...he had a point. Why in the world did you want someone else when someone that made you feel such wonderful things, was living under the same roof as yours?

It’s a trap.

Looking down at the floor, you bit harshly at your lip and headed towards the bathroom. After everything that happened tonight, you really needed to freshen up.

Getting undressed and stepping under the running water in the bathtub was easy. Allowing the cold stream to run down your body, trying desperately to ease the aching heat between your legs was the hard part. With each passing second, the increasing heat became insufferable, but no matter how chilled the water felt, the aching wouldn’t go down one bit.

Lust began clouding your thoughts the more time you spent under the cold bath, it was starting to become downright painful and as much as you tried pleasing yourself, it just wasn’t enough.

Walking out of the shower with a soft towel carefully wrapped around your body, you tried to distract yourself blow-drying the damp locks of hair. Trying to ignore the clenching between your thighs. Despite having just taken a shower, there was already slick running down your legs.

Whimpering, you walked out of the bathroom. Colliding with Touya’s hard chest as he stood in the way between the bathroom and the hallway. His whole body trembled as he let out a low, dangerous growl as soon as he caught a whiff of your scent. It would be a lie if you said that sound didn’t scare you…and at the same time, excited you.

Slowly tilting your head up to look at him, you were met with the same dark eyes from that time at the church. And before you realized what was happening, he had already pushed you against the wall, caging you in the spot with his arms.

“T-Touya…?”

But he just ignored you and crashed his lips upon yours with a bruising force. Sending an overwhelming shock from head to toe that nearly made your body give up and fall down on the floor. It was fierce, strong, passionate. You couldn’t even begin to fully describe it, but it was perfect.

“I could smell you from the other side of town.” He broke the kiss, allowing you to catch your breath before he kissed you again as eagerly as before. This time you were ready, and gladly began kissing him back with the same strength. Moaning into the kiss and holding onto him for dear life as his middle finger began prodding its way inside you. He swallowed your every noise happily, enjoying the way your body began trembling as his hand gave you a slight taste of sweet relief, that was so desperately needed.

Then he broke the kiss one more time, teal eyes engulfed in black as he admired your warm face and half-lidded eyes. “That sweet scent of your body, crying out to be pleased, begging to be satisfied until you become nothing but a limp mess underneath your master.”

He looked at your eyes closing with nothing but bliss, begging for more of his unholy touch. Nothing mattered to you anymore, all you wanted was for Touya to defile your whole being like he did the very first time.

“Ahhh….Please…” Lust glazed eyes fluttered open to look at him, and he almost wanted to take you right there, right now “Take my body however you want, Master…”

In an instant. He pulled his hand away from your core, yanking the towel away in the process. With little to no effort, Touya lifted your body with both hands and wrapped your legs around his waist, before taking your begging self to the bedroom. And this time, nothing would stop him from having you, and if he had to obliterate someone to ashes, in order to get what he wanted, he would.

He set you down in front of the bed and sat down on the edge, spreading his calves wide open, just enough for you to fit in at the same time that he leaned back on his lean arms. Face leaning against his knuckles as he looked at your trembling self.

“What are you waiting for, little one? Your master is waiting.”

Nothing but pure, concentrated arousal fueled your every thought. One knee bent down on the floor, the other one followed soon after. Finally, you sat in front of the demon, resting both hands over your knees, and waited for his next commands while staring at a growing bulge, easily noticeable under the layers of black denim.

“Time to worship your master’s cock, little one.”

Shaky hands made contact with the zipper of his jeans, slowly tugging it down. A small purr was heard from above you, and the room slowly began to get warmer as the demon’s pants slowly became looser around his waist.

“Look what you do to me. I’ve never wanted to fuck you more than I do now.” He growled in contempt once his jeans were undone and his underwear was pulled down. That all too unique cock sprung out before your half-closed eyes, already dripping with precum. Having it this close to your eyes was way different from last time.

You could see every detail of the ridges at his sides, and this time, there was something else you definitely did not see, or feel the last time. He smirked widely, showing off those longs fangs of his when he saw you look up at him with curious eyes.

“This is new...When did you get a Jacob’s ladder?” Your hand grasped around the erect member, taking as much of it as it could. Thumb tracing a small vertical line at the underside of it, right in between the row of piercings decorating his shaft, all the way from the base until it stopped right below the tip. The slightest touch was almost enough to send the demon into a frenzy.

“Shortly after leaving the church. But what can I say? I wanted to surprise you.” He didn’t move one bit as he stared at you with those bright eyes. His hands cupped the side of your face, nails scratching gently at your cheek, and you couldn’t help leaning towards his warm touch. “This cock isn’t gonna suck itself. Come on little one, get those pretty lips of yours to work.”

Too lost in the haze to even bother giving the demon a snarky remark, you happily obeyed his orders.

Slowly, your hand started touching his length with cautious, but firm strokes. The more you kept touching him, the heavier his breathing became.

“Your hand feels so good.” As much as you wanted to keep on teasing him, the trembling between your legs just kept getting stronger. Desire kept growing inside you like vines, snaring themselves painfully against your very soul.

Leaning forward, your lips gave the tip of his cock a tender, delicate kiss, and not only the feeling of those soft lips against him, but the dazed look in your eyes made Touya grip the blanket with force, growing nails digging into the material underneath, much to your chagrin. But right now, that didn’t really bother you. The only thing that mattered, was worshipping the throbbing cock in the palm of your hand.

Might as well give the demon what he wanted…

“Mmmm...Is my master enjoying this?” You kept moving your hand while peppering his tip with more kisses. Starting at the head before leaving a trail all the way down to the base. Not once did you break eye contact with him, and he couldn’t really complain about the view.

“Stop with the teasing already,” His hand pulled harder on your hair, leaning down until both of your faces were so close to each other, that you could practically feel his jagged breathing fanning against your warm face, and those hypnotizing blue orbs nearly digging a hole in your soul. “Now’s when the real worship begins. You know what to do, little one.”

You couldn’t hold back a gasp as he pulled harder on your soft locks, and he took advantage of that little noise, to push that pretty mouth down on his cock, hissing in delight at the warmth of your mouth.

“Shit…! your mouth feels so fucking good, it’s just as nice as your pussy!” Both of your hands came forward to rest on top of his thighs while moaning around the pulsing length. Small vibrations made him tilt his head back with closed eyes and a satisfied groan.

He tasted so good, that the pent-up frustration accumulated over the past week because of him, dissipated in an instant, and all you cared about was showing him...just how much you loved, your master’s cock.

Not waiting for a command, you began bobbing your head immediately, taking as much of him as possible, while continuing to stroke whatever bit couldn’t fit inside your mouth. Saliva and pre-cum mixed together into a lewd mixture, slowly dripping down your chin with each bob of your head.

The grip in your hair became firmer the more your tongue kept tracing circles on his tip. Touya could hear your little, satisfied hums the more you attempted to take him deeper with each thrust of your head against his hips. Thighs shaking desperately once the taste of his precum reached every corner of your tongue.

“As much as I love the way you take my cock with that filthy mouth,” With a single maneuver, he pulled your face away from him despite the little whines you gave, wishing to taste him just a bit more. “I can’t wait to leave bruises all over that pretty skin.”

Unwilling to wait any longer, Touya pulled you off the ground, and with a grin, he threw you face down on the bed. The mattress dipped down on your side by the weight of the demon climbing over your withering body.

“Get on your knees, right now.” The authority in his words was almost enough for you to melt on the spot. Obediently, you positioned yourself just as the demon said, and felt him grab on your hips with a force that would certainly leave a path of dark bruises.

When he began rubbing himself against your soaked folds, the friction from those firm ridges sent an exquisite sensation through your whole body, it made him laugh darkly once he heard those small, silent gasps as you waited eagerly to be filled.

A sharp pain shot through your backside when his hands smacked the skin of your ass, and although it was painful, it felt so good at the same time.

“What’s the matter, little one?” Another smack was given, making you yelp from excitement “You like this don’t you? What a filthy slut!”

When a third smack was given, tears ran down your face desperately. All you wanted was for this demon to ravish you at once. Not a pinch of pride or shame remained inside. You wanted him, and badly.

“Ahh...Please, master…” A hand snaked its way underneath, spreading those slick folds wide open as an offering to the demon. “Please, fuck me already. I can’t take it anymore!”

“Good!” One of his hands pushed lightly on the head of his cock, guiding it towards your warm, little hole and with a swift thrust, Touya buried himself all the way in. “Cause I’m gonna fuck you senseless, make you feel so damn good, that the thought of being with someone else will never cross your mind ever again, little one.”

Oh god, it was even better than last time. You could feel every single ridge, and those piercings brushing snuggly against your walls as he began with a fast pace immediately. His every thrust turned you into a mess underneath him.

Why did you even want someone else in the first place when you had this? If you had to settle for one dick to satisfy you for life, then maybe this wasn’t so bad after all.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Your face buried against the bed with a lost smile and eyes rolling into the back of your head. In addition, your hands kept gripping the sheets with a death grip as Touya began hitting a spot over and over again that knocked your breath away. Watching you squirming underneath him was truly a sight to behold, nothing could come close to how beautiful you looked in the demon’s eyes.

“I can’t get enough of this delicious pussy, it feels amazing having you taking my cock like this…!” He held your body closer to his, hands kneading your chest in synch with his every push.

Your moans became louder with every single hump of his pelvis ramming against your ass, it brought you closer and closer over the edge. Until that all too familiar knot in your stomach.

“Master!...I’m coming! I’m coming!” Your whole body began trembling from the upcoming high, inner walls clasping around the throbbing girth humping your insides so wickedly good.

But then, Touya stopped moving so abruptly that it almost made you cry out in frustration. Was this his revenge for the spritzer?

But that’s wasn’t it. Instead, he flipped you over and pulled those beautiful legs to rest against his shoulders. Nibbling softly on the soft flesh of your inner thighs made goosebumps appear all over your body, and with a grin, he once again slammed his cock inside that warm, sloppy hole he adored. Picking up his brutal pace from before caused the headboard to slam loudly against the wall with each jab of his hips against yours.

“I want to see that look on your face again. That look in your eyes as I fill this delicious pussy with my cum!” You couldn’t stop gasping for air the more he kept shoving his length into the depths of your warmth, savoring the feeling with eyes closed tightly in nothing but pure enjoyment.

"Take it you little lamb! Take all of your master's seed until you become big and swollen with my offspring!"

He gave another rough thrust, hitting that same spot from before with an intensity that made you cling onto him for dear life, wrapping your arms around his neck. The heat from his body was searing hot, a little more and it could burn you alive at any moment. When you opened your eyes again, the sight you witnessed was hypnotizing.

His body was engulfed in blue flames, and despite being so close to him, that fire around him didn’t burn your skin in the slightest, but instead, it began burning away at his skin, and you realized it was actually destroying his disguise. When he lifted his head from your neck, you saw the same scarred face from that night at the church.

But his unnatural appearance didn’t bother you anymore, too lost in the high as Touya...No...As Dabi let out a deep snarl and with a powerful thrust, that tight knot in your stomach burst. Making you scream as an orgasm overtook your senses.

The look in your face sent Dabi into a frenzy, the sound of his length sloshing into your sloppy core resonated through the bedroom, and with a couple more thrusts, he slammed himself deep inside, clinging onto you as he filled your womb with his scalding seed.

You both stayed in place, breathing heavily while clinging to each other. Slowly, he pulled out and crawled back, the motion caused your legs to plop on the mattress and he watched in satisfaction as his seed kept leaking out of your drained body, before getting up from the bed and walking out of the room.

For a good ten minutes, you didn’t bother moving, wincing slightly at the sticky sensation all over your whole body, and when every single spasm kept making your body leak with Dabi’s cum, you felt even stickier. The bedsheet laid there completely torn to shreds, soaked and slightly charred.

“Come here.” Dabi walked back inside the room without his human disguise. Carefully he picked you up bridal style and took you back to the bathroom, where the bathtub was nicely filled. He helped you get in and lean back against the edge as the steaming hot water helped your worn-out body to relax. “There we go.”

“Why are you doing all this? I thought demons didn’t care about us mortals.” From the corner of your eyes, you spotted him picking a small towel from the shelves before he approached the tub again, he soaked it slightly in the tub, before using it to wipe your face.

“Well, I need to take good care of my vessel.” This time, he used the towel on your hair, the warmth felt nice on your sensitive scalp after having your hair pulled for a good time. “And honestly? I like this. You have guts standing up to a demon. Can’t say I don’t like the thrill though. So, as long as we’re bonded, just sit back and enjoy your daily life while I make sure to give you whatever you need.”

You hated to admit it, but it was a tempting offer. Either way, you’re definitely going to hell anyway....Maybe this deal wasn't so bad after all.

@hawks-senseis @honeytama @savagetrickster @unbreakableeiji @wakaoujisenhime @fanfic-me-up @natsuosfairy @sailor-manga @shoutogepi @gr0vndz3ro @divinewhimsy

#bnha imagine #mha imagine #bnha imagines #mha imagines #bnha smut #dabi smut #bnha dabi #dabi x reader #dabi is touya #touya smut

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shyflameweasel · 3 years ago

Text

The Circus is in Town

This takes from both this and this. Read with caution as there is blood in this.

It’s been few weeks since...the Thing in the alleyway. Maybe a month if you had to guess? You still have no clue what it even was. Curiosity lays at the edges of your mind, poking and prodding to look deeper into the mystery. Shaking your head to dislodge the stray thoughts, you don’t give them a chance to take root. Since that night you haven’t gone out at much as you used to, either by day or by night. Dark places and hideaways were avoided like the plague. (Sometimes you dreamed of floating hands shooting from the darkness to drag you back towards that nightmare.)

You had security system installed. Along with carrying both a knife and taser. A firearm seemed like too much. You’d briefly considered pepper spray but you’re not sure if it would even work without-

Shuddering, that thought’s pushed away (with all the others). You so wanted to believe that it was just your imagination. But with that photo- that damnable photo that you got so close to deleting but couldn’t go through with. Bringing certainty and dread that that night was real.

So so often you wanted to throw that phone against the wall. Or just factory reset it to stop it from feeling like a brand whenever you held it. Often why you absentmindedly grab the phone for something, you’ll see or feel the crack and everything come rushing back.

Somewhere in your mind, a little voice in your head thinks that you were blowing things out of proportion. Another told it to shut it; isn’t it better to be safe than sorry?

But today...some friends had managed to convince you to get out of your sudden self-isolation. No one knew the reason why, no one would believe you even with proof. (You struggled to believe yourself.) When they said that you’d all be going out of town for a carnival was relaxing. Distance would mean less of a chance of a second encounter and have the benefit of soothing your fraying nerves.

Everything was nice...for awhile.

You don’t fully remember how, but your group had ended up lost. The roads unfamiliar and tensions were rising. Which soon gave way to arguments.

Which lead to a crash. Then darkness.

Fortunately, by some miracle everyone made it out fine with just some scrapes and bruising when you regained consciousness. Unfortunately, the car was in no condition to drive and no one had any idea where you were. The GPS seemed unable to lock onto the location.

Something felt...off. Like it was only the slightest thing off but you didn’t know what so it gnawed at-

Someone spotted a large circus tent in the distance. A tent meant people, people meant help. The group’s spirit rose, all except yours. That feeling was still rolling in your gut. They started towards it, joking around that at least they have some entertainment while waiting for a tow. You hesitated in following, that not-quite-right feeling thick in the back of your throat. It dawned on you why you felt this way.

It was the same feeling as the alley.

You didn’t want to go but what other choice was there? A wrecked car, no other soul for seemingly miles. As much as you hated it, there really wasn’t a choice in the matter.

Checking once twice thrice for your knife taser phone you followed. As you caught up with the rest, you placed your phone where the camera could see everything and hit record.

(Your information was already saved into the phone. On the chance that it was found, someone would know what happened to you.)

That feeling grew as you got closer to the ‘circus’, if you could even call it that. From far away it seemed decent enough but once you got closer details were starting to register. For one, there was only a tent. Nothing of the bright lights or rides that would be at a carnival, even the more shoddy ones had something to bring in a crowd.

Another red flag: dead silence. Not a single person or animal in sight. Not even the sound of insects broke the blanket of noiselessness. You held some slight hope that it was due to being in the middle of a performance in the tent. But if that was the case, wouldn’t there still be cheering form the crowd? Or music playing?

The others seemed to catch on to just how wrong everything felt. Like at the drop of a pin this stalemate would shatter into hell. Hands in pockets, grasping onto your only means of defense. False security blankets against the unknown. Apprehension settled alongside that feeling. Waiting.

Once close enough to the tent you could see that it was falling apart. The material was holey, like someone gave up half-way through with trying to repair it. In its sorry state it was so dirty and faded that it was hard to make out any of the original colors. Worryingly enough there were large dark spots on the fabric. Distance was making it hard to tell what they were but their color means that it wasn’t part of the original pattern.

Someone tried to make a joke about it being too early for Halloween. No one laughed. Another suggested that everyone walked back to the car and call for help instead (where it was safer.) It was shot down by a third saying that the GPS wasn’t working and that there was no reception. That paused the argument.

No reception? As if everyone had the same idea, phones were brought out. How...how didn’t you notice that? Were you so out of it back at the car that you never checked? (One of the voices piped in that it worked before.)

Hesitantly, the option of staying in the car waiting for someone to pass. No one said anything, they didn’t have to. After the crash the car had been flipped upside down away from the road. In addition it was already late afternoon. Whatever the hell was going on here, no one wanted to be in the area after dark.

So with all other options tried and debunked, the only one remaining was going towards the tent and praying for a miracle. What felt like forever but was only a few minutes you get within a few yards of the entrance. The curtain was open. (It wasn’t before.)

(Those splotches you tried to ignore before? Its blood. A lot of blood. One the tent and the ground. Out of the corner of your eye you could see a handprint. Instead of four fingers, there were three. Leading towards the entrance, six thin gorges, almost as if- one of the voices hissed at the other to shut up.)

Don’t think about it. It’ll only make is worse. Glancing at the others told you that while they hadn’t come to the same conclusion they still didn’t trust this place in the slightest. You couldn’t see into the darkness of the tent.

“WELCOME! COME IN COME IN THE SHOW’S ABOUT TO START!” rang from the flap. You flinched as it broke through the dead silence. No one moved. Whatever microphone they were using glitched and echoed their voice. It sounded much worse the second time when it sounded far less happy and far more angry.

‘CLOWN SAID COME IN.” Someone started crying and honestly you would be lying if you didn’t feel like that too. Something told you that you wouldn’t be getting another warning. Looking over, the others seemed to realize it too.

There was no escaping whoever was in the tent. One of the others puffed up their chest in false bravado and took the first step then the second and the third into the darkness. And one by one, everyone followed.

It smelled...stale.

Like despite the amount of holes in the place the air remained stagnant. If you weren’t so worried about the voice, you’d worried about getting sick. But underneath that stagnation there was this horrible smell. You almost retched as your foot collided with something squishy that released more of that foulness. If you make it out alive you’re going straight to a doctor. (You did your best not to think about what you stepped in.)

“STOP” the voice range out. Everyone froze. “CLOWN WELCOMES NEWEST PERFORMERS FOR COMING. IT’LL BE A BLAST FOR GRUNTS OF ALL SHAPES AND SIZES.” Performers? Grunts? What does that-

A light suddenly came on. Someone screamed about eyes. But to you the world went to static. Because standing right there. Was the Thing from the alley. Or at least, it was similar. (Something in you screeched to run and unlike last time, you couldn’t.)

Standing on a raised platform, standing under the beam of spotlight was a Thing. Only this one was wearing a metal mask. (Was the red shooting up from Its head hair or was it a wig? Your shuddering mind deliriously thought.) Stumbling towards the back of the group you belatedly realize what that eyes comment was about. Dozens if not hundreds stared back at you from the darkness.

The mask’s eyes seemed to move into crescent smiles. You felt your mind trying to break itself but you just barely held yourself together. Dots flash before your eyes as breathing becomes difficult.

In a blink (was it a blink or is your mind having trouble). It’s near one of your friends. “FREAKY.” Grabbing their arm with Its hands It looks closer. When they try to jerk away It just grips tighter and they yelp in pain. The others try to push It off them but It just bats them away as easily as swatting a misbehaving pet. “HAD SOME FREAKSHOWS BUT NEVER ONE LIKE THIS.”

(There was no microphone. This violently shaking monster spoke with distortion and echo in its voice.)

Someone asks what It is. It looks at (towards?) them still holding the arm of your now shaking friend. “CLOWN IS TRICKY!” Finally letting go of your friend (they’re brought to the center of the group, arm starting to bruise.) It-Tricky-clown flourishes its hands (floating floating floating) “WELCOME TO THE CIRCUS~” in a sing song voice.

Before anyone could say anything, could do anything. It had a gun in Its hands. (There were no pockets just dark grey gunmetal green aND WHERE DID IT COME FROM) Pointed the gun towards the group. Fired. Half threw themselves to the ground. Myself and the rest were frozen in shock. There was no bullet...just a little sign with a bang pattern.

It roared with laughter. Like it had just seen the funniest joke in the world. That next moment the room exploded into deafening laughter. The shear volume brought you back to your senses enough to clutch at your ears. Trying to block it all out.

“BRING IN THE HELLCLOWNS!” It side steps a car that half your size, you knew without a fact that it wasn’t before. Skidding around your group before coming to a stop next to the Thing.

The door ope-DEARR GOD THOSE AREN’T CLOWNS!

A scream rips itself from your throat at the sigh. From the car emerges a dozen small flaming...demon Things. They seemed to honk when they moved. One grabs your wrist and does it burn. All but one of your friends are restrained. The remaining fiery devils seem to set something up.

The Thing in charge grabs the unrestrained, dragging towards a wheel the smaller ones made. It’s hard to focus with the pain burning through your wrist. The world blurs.

Thunk thunk thunk squelch

An ear piercing scream breaks through the haze.

Your eyes refocus on the wheel. It was slowly turning. Attached to it was your friend. And to your friend was a knife to their shoulder. The clown was holding knives. (Like the wheel was a dartboard and your friend was the bullseye.)

There must have been some kind of mechanism as whenever the wheel stopped, it would suddenly spin at breakneck speed. It felt like an eternity. Every time the clown hit them, the crowd would cheer.

Luck must have been on your friend’s side. 3 more cycle and a knife caught them through the eye. They were dead. (Someone was crying out of eyesight.)

The next to go went slower. That-that monster had Its minions crush your friend into a small box in some sick parody of a contortionist. Bones cracked and the screaming turned wet. It seemed confused with arms and legs. At least until It torn them off. They bleed out in a broken mess. (More crying, the sounds of retching follows.)

The third was quick but painful. A pie. It threw a pie at their face. Their face melted off and their neck burst open. (The minions pulled the bodies into the darkness. You have an idea of what you stepped in earlier.)

Throughout this your mind is brought back from its haze of pain with each wail of agony. Slowly unraveling you grasp the edges of your mind with scrambling finger tips.

Fourth was quickest. Forced and shot out of a cannon. The minions had set up a net that glints of metal and fire in the stage light. It goes off, force launching them through the net. Confetti and viscera rain from the sky.

(Someone screams why, why are you doing this! It’s reply bleeds through the growing fog. “BORED. A LITTLE VACATION FROM MY JOB. JUST GET TO UNWIND AWAY FROM NEVDA AND HAVE SOME FUN!” What...what was going on in Nevada?)

Fifth is shot with a balloon gun before being mauled to death by balloon animals.

Your mind is slipping through your hands like water. The crowd cheers louder ever louder. (They’re all flaming clowns)

Sixth...you don’t know what happened. It was one of those strong man gigs. Swing a hammer, hit a bell. Only...they didn’t. They swung and hit the monster square in the face. Mask landing with a thud in the deathly silent tent.

You took your chance.

Wrenching your arm out of the slackened hold (a wave of agony and the smell of burnt flesh violently turns your stomach) you shoulder check the other one to grab your last remaining companion. (If the inhuman scream followed by meaty whacks is to go by)

And run.

You keep running before your fraying mind catches up to you. Nothing looks the same as when you went in. (There. Was. No. Sky. Only red, not like a sunset bu- don’t think don’t think don’tthinkdon-)

Seventh is unknown. As you run in the direction that you’re so sure that the car has to be in, you’re jerk back. You were repeating not again over and over (you never know you were mumbling). A fight breaks out, you’re on the ground with their hands around your throat. Screaming that it’s all your fault. Your mind flashes to balloons bursting like guns, flying pies and bloody confetti.

(The voices argue, one crying and pleading for this to stop. The other hissing and snarls at the attack. The edges of the world go dark.)

You hear the horns growing louder.

As quick as you can, you pull the knife from your pocket.

And stab the seventh.

Seventh falls over clutching their gut wound. You run.

You get farther this time before something tackles you to the ground. It’s back and It is enraged.

Now that the mask is off you can see Its head. Similar to the other one in most ways. The head a sickly green. An exposed brain. Sweet smelling rot that’s too much. Half Its face is ripped, exposing teeth and muscles. (It does have hair)

It was dead. But it was still moving.

You didn’t hesitate, you grabbed your taser and slammed it down onto the gray matter as hard you could. (The smell, the sound it makes will haunt you. But you can just add it to the list.)

It stopped moving and you weren’t going to miss this chance. Wooziness took control as you stood up. Only a few steps were taken before consciousness left.

You woke up.

Apparently a car had come down the road and found the wreck. Took you to the closes hospital. Of a group of 8...only 1 was found.

Honestly everything felt like a dream with the painkillers coursing through your veins. Questions were asked that couldn’t be answered. All you could tell them was that the rest were at the circus with a clown named Tricky.

And when you were finally alone...you laughed. Laughed until you cried. Laughed until you hurled. Laughed until you could barely breathe. Until you sobbed. Sobbed for your friends. Sobbed for what you all went through. Sobbed as you had your answer after a month.

As you lay there in laughter filled waves of agony, with your bandaged arm (a handprint) and the hours of video of your friends being tortured and killed you found your answer.

Whatever they were, they brought suffering and madness. Some fractured part of your mind knew that this wouldn’t be your last time seeing them.

#madness combat #tricky the clown #*victory screech*#dear god this took forever #god clown!Tricky 0 #poor irl reader 1

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soulwillower · 4 years ago

Text

helping hand • richie tozier

(richie tozier x reader smut)

requested: How about some Richie x Reader fluff and smut where Richie breaks his right arm protecting the reader from someone or something so they end up taking care of Rich and doing things for him until he's better. But one day they see he's frustrated and acting weird until he confesses he can't jerk off so the reader helps him out ;) also I forgot what emoji I was so I'll just be this lol - 🐜

warnings: swearing, smut, switch! richie, oral sex (male receiving), a teensy bit of dirty talk, unedited

[losers + reader are 18+]

2.7k words

♡

you keep your cool until richie sighs for the fifth time. "okay, what's wrong?" you ask, putting down your book and looking at richie, who's laying on his back, staring at the ceiling. so dramatic.

"oh, nothing." he says nonchalantly, but you quirk a brow. "do you need something? does your arm hurt?" you ask, starting to get up and find his painkillers. he shakes his head, using his good arm to prop himself up on his mattress as he tells you not to get up. your eyes catch the pink arm cast on his right hand and your lips quirk up at the messy writing all over it : in fancy writing, the name "dick" (courtesy of stan) glints under the light of richie's bedside lamp.

you'd written your name with a small heart because normally, had it been a different case, you would've drawn as many penises as you could fit - just like eddie and bill had done. but you had a little more sympathy for your friend because, after all, richie had broken his arm trying to help you.

as much as you're sure richie fantasized about being the 'knight in shining armor' that comes to the rescue with swords blazing, what he really did is break his arm by running his mouth. but honestly, he still was your knight in shining armor no matter what because you were unfortunately head over ass for the boy.

henry bowers is who you could blame for all this; its almost as if he had a knack for snapping kid's arms in two like he'd done to eddie when you were all thirteen. he'd been alone (for what might have been the first time ever), waiting outside keene's drug store when you, richie, stan and ben had come out, slushies in hand. he'd come to get a 'revenge' of sorts because you'd given him a slight embarrassment when you dumped your food tray on him earlier that day in the cafeteria.

he'd pushed you towards the wall (and yes, you had dropped your slushie) and wound back like he was about to really give one to you right in the gut, but richie had immediately grabbed his skateboard and smacked bowers in the head with the deck hard enough that you could slip away when he recoiled.

unfortunately for the rest of you, especially richie, bowers tossed him right to the ground and landed a solid punch to his cheekbone before stan, ben and you could rip him off. but it got worse, because richie called him something along the lines of "daddy's boy" and that struck quite a nerve, prompting henry to stomp down so hard on richie's forearm that it broke skin and you could hear the sickening snap.

so after a slight concussion, a round of minor surgery and a pink arm cast fastened around and up the crook of his elbow, richie was unable to go to school for a week and you felt the need to help him in any way you saw fit. you were concerned, but more than anything you just wanted to be around him, because he made you happy and made you laugh and turn red in a way that nobody else does.

"well then what's bothering you?" you ask, walking over so you're sitting sideways on his bed next to him. you swear his cheeks turn a little red and he grins small, "oh, nothing, sweet thing. it's all your imagination, i'm doing swell!" he insists, winking at you. it doesn't work though, and you roll your eyes. "if you don't tell me, i can’t do it for you and you’ll have to suffer in silence." you reason.

richie makes an odd expression and mutters, "you have no idea."

you're thouroughly frustrated now, "i promise, whatever it is i will do my best to do it for you or help you, i just need to know what it is!" you insist, annoyed that he's being so stingy.

he shakes his head, mimicking a zipper motion and he tosses the invisible key into his overloaded trash bin in the corner of his room. you huff and roll your eyes, deciding to pick up and fold some of the blankets on his floor.

if you wiggle your hips more than necessary when you bend over, that’s your own business and not richie’s. and if he stares openly at your ass with his bottom lip punctured under his canines, that’s his own business and not yours.

"no, doll." he says, but his cheeks are bright pink, his lip caught between his teeth as his eyes avoid yours. "you - no." he insists, chuckling to himself awkwardly. despite how weird he was acting, your stomach flutters and sways around because of how goddamn cute he was, how attractive it was when he bit his lip. jesus, you're so fucked for him.

you tilt your head, feeling annoyed that he's being difficult, "just tell me!" you insist, looking at him bewildered. what isn't he telling you?

"well i can't, like, just tell my best friend that i'm frustrated because i can't rub one out without giving my dick cast-burn. that shit hurts, by the way." he adds, groaning as he rubs his forehead in exasperation.

you feel yourself burn red at the words he says and you roll your eyes, "well you just did and i'm horrified." and that's very, very far from the truth.

in all honesty, right now as you look at richie you can't help but imagine him, lips parted and cheeks warm as he pants, the sweet moans and groans that would leave his lips as he touches himself. in fact, it makes you clench your thighs together.

"can't you use your other hand?" you ask tentatively, unsure if you're crossing a boundary that you don't want to cross. because richie is, as you and the losers very well know, very open about his sex life, and you're afraid he will tell you things that will make you see green in jealousy.

"it just doesn't feel as good, y/n." he mumbles, falling back and sighing. tentatively, you lay your hand on his thigh as you pull yourself up closer to his body. "i'm weak. and injured." he adds in a whine.

"i'm not." you say, lifting a brow. your stomach starts to burn as you realize what you're going for right now - what if richie gets disgusted?

you snap out of it as richie sits up, propping himself so he can look up at you with raised eyebrows. "well lucky you, that doesn't help me, though." he says with a lifted brow.

you shrug, deciding to just fuck it and shoot your shot. "it could." you say boldly, your hand still on his sweats. he gapes at you, slowly licking his lips as an awkward laugh escapes his mouth. the huff of his laugh isn't one of mockery; more one of disbelief as he already feels himself twitch under his sweats as you look down at him.

you clear your throat softly, "i could."

"oh, shit." he mutters, eyes wide and a smirk on his face. "y-you're for real?"

you nod as he sits up slightly so he's even with you, his breath hot as it hits your face. you shrug, hand gliding up slightly to reach his waistband. his breath hitches as your fingertips run over the band. "only if you want it."

the way he nods and pulls you directly to him would be pathetic if you didn't feel the exact same (if not more) desperation in your body for him. his lips are shockingly soft and you smile against his lips as you realize he's wearing bev's strawberry flavored chapstick. as his tongue slides into your mouth, your hand slides over to palm his hardening dick, smiling a bit as he moans at the touch.

a few minutes later you've lost both your shirts, hickies splattered throughout richie’s chest and neck, and you climb between his legs, knees on the ground as his legs fall to the ground from his bed.

you slide his sweats off and he lets out a whine. "think you can handle it?" you mutter with a smirk. his red cheeks puff a bit as he rolls his eyes.

you press your thighs together at the sight of his dick straining against the fabric of his boxers. “y/n. you’re.. fuck.” he mutters as you mouth over his fully hard cock. your hands come up to the waistband of his boxers and you slide them down as he watches you with intense eyes.

his cock is hard and long and you grip his base, your hand coming to steady yourself on his thigh, trying not to show your shock at how big he actually is.

"think you can handle it, toots?" he says cockily, recalling what you'd said earlier and making you roll your eyes. "shut up." you mutter and slowly you start to move your hand, darting your tongue out and flattening it to lick from the base all the way up to his tip, staring into his eyes as you take in his tip.

he’s muttering swears, eyes wide as he watches you suck lightly. as you take a breath and sink lower onto his cock, your tongue flattening on the bottom of his shaft as you push further, he tightens his grip.

he lets out a low moan which might be the hottest noise you’ve ever heard, his hands flying to the back of your head in pleasure. the rest of him that you can’t fit you pump with your hand, your head bobbing and making obscene sounds in his empty bedroom. you have to clench your thighs because you're so incredibly turned on, enthusiastically moving your head as he groans. the action makes you moan around him and he moans your name, motivating you further.

you shiver when his good hand comes to gather your hair back behind your head as well as he can, muttering "fuck, doll, been wanting this for forever." you’re breathing through your nose, swallowing around him and you moan at his words because god, you've waited forever too. he feels so good, so big as he stretches your throat and you do your best to swallow around him. "good, right there. 'm close, y/n/n."

he pushes your head down on him slightly and you choke, pulling back. he looks regretful, even though his cherry lip is caught between his pearly white teeth and his hair is disheveled and his cheeks are rosy. “that- that was hot. you can do that again.” you gasp, voice broken as you suck in breaths. you feel a string of spit from your lips to his dick and he smirks, eyeing the sight. he shuts his eyes, clenching his jaw, “fuck-” he mutters before he guides you down to his cock again, thrusting slowly.

his hands forcing your head down lightly. “yeah, toots. just like that.” he says lowly as you try to relax your throat, gagging as he pushes you further down on him. you feel him hit the back of your throat and he moans loudly.

you try to pull back to breathe, but he holds you for a few more moments before he quickly pulls you off. you gasp and sputter, knowing you’re fucked because that was about the hottest thing to ever happen to you. you just stick your tongue out again, opening your mouth eagerly. you want him back in your mouth. "please, rich." you say and his jaw almost drops, eyes dark as he pushes you back onto him and guides your head up and down, hitting your throat.

spit is streaming from your mouth and the room is filled with the sound of his cock in your mouth and your moans. you can tell he’s getting close and you hollow your cheeks as well as you can. “shit, doll, i’m-i’m gonna cum.” he mutters, trying to pull you off, but you stay, bobbing and sucking, wanting to taste him for as long as you can.

and he spills into your mouth, your hand slowing to a stop as you slowly slide your mouth up and down, tongue lapping up all the cum from his cock. you swallow it, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand and gasping. his cheeks are bright red, his chest heaving as he tugs your hands so you fall onto the bed with him, his casted arm resting against his chest, you during up on his side. it's quiet for a few moments as he tugs his boxers up.

he turns his head on the mattress and you do too, eyes meeting. "how can i get you to do that even when the cast comes off, babe?" he asks - his voice is teasing but soft. you grin softly and roll your eyes. "i think you just need to ask, rich." you say with a short chuckle. he boops your nose with his non casted arm and it releases an embarrassing amount of butterflies in your stomach.

"right. hey, y/n, can i go down on you?" he asks with a smile. your face feels hot as you gape at him, shocked at his bluntness. "rich, i-"

he laughs, "nah, doll. but for real, will you go out with me sometime? i promise i'm a gentleman. i'll buy you dinner, and then go down on you."

you roll your eyes, smushing his face with your hand as you laugh, leaning in to kiss him sweetly. "yeah, sure. i'm doing it for the food, though." he laughs loudly at this. "sure." he mutters, pulling you to his chest.

tag list: @gabiatthedisco @blisshemmings @stenbrozier @simplesammyx @dickology64 @clownsloveyou @baby-yoda-a @moon-shine-baby @daughter-of-the-stars11 @lets-vibe-bro @trashedfortozier @oceandog13 @finnskindofwoman @kait-tozier @upamongthestarss @fiantomartell @beverlyparkerr @beauregard-s @diorbubs

#🐜#richie tozier x reader #richie tozier smut #losers x reader #losers club x reader #stanley uris x reader #bill denbrough x reader #eddie kaspbrak x reader #mike hanlon x reader #beverly marsh x reader #ben hanscom x reader

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angelanimedesaray · 4 years ago

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Through the Looking Glass Chapter 12: The Caged Bird

AN: ....I feel like this went by really fast, but CLEARLY it did not, considering this is almost 13000 words and I STILL ended up splitting it into two parts...but I still feel like it happened SO FAST!!! And that worries me...for reasons that will become obvious, cause you all know I want to try and handle sensitive topics properly, and I don’t like the thought I might have rushed through this....

Characters: Levi, Reader, Roy (Original Character), Furlan, Reader’s Father, Various BG Characters

Pairing: Levi x Reader

Warnings: Language, Violence, Injuries, Blood, Threats of Death, Peril, (SPOILER) Abusive Relationships, Mentions of Sexual Assault, Mentions of Past Violence, Mentions of Past Abuse, Allusions to Abuse. NOTE (Also a spoiler): If you’re worried that the actual trauma/effects of abuse wasn’t properly handled, most of that is coming in the next part. This part is dealing with the ESCAPE of abuse, dealing with the event/aftermath itself is the next part.

Word Count: 12558

<----Previous Chapter Masterlist Next Chapter---->

(Gif found HERE)

(Four Years Later)

*Levi’s POV*

“Levi--I found something you might appreciate. It was tucked away at the bottom of this crate--I think someone was trying to hide it.”

Levi came over to where Furlan was going through one of the three crates they’d managed to snag in a riskier heist earlier today, taking the tin Furlan was offering him and checking the label. Tea. High end stuff, too. Normally he’d celebrate by instantly taking it for himself, but considering where it was hidden and the size of the payload, he was a little worried. What the hell was it doing tucked into the bottom of one of these crates?

“You don’t think these crates--or at least this one--were going to any of the big shots down here, do you?” Furlan asked, a serious look in his eyes.

Levi set the tin aside for the time being, resolving to take it for himself if they decided it was safe to keep the crates. “Keep looking. If there’s nothing particularly dangerous or valuable in here, we might be able to avoid trouble so long as we sell the goods fast,” Levi rationalized.

“And if there is?”

“Ditch the crates with the high risk stuff and let it be someone else’s problem,” Levi said flatly, crouching back down in front of the crate he’d been looking for, seeing if there was anything else they should keep for themselves.

Finding a friend down here had certainly been...unexpected, and at first Furlan had followed him around like an overly eager puppy, wanting to follow after Levi when Levi turned down following him. They’d been working together for almost two years now, and Levi was finally comfortable being around the other young man, the two of them working well together on the heists they pulled to pool their money together--both to survive, and to save up enough money to buy citizenship on the surface and at least a starting place to live, even if it was just one room. The main goal was getting topside, where they started out living didn’t matter much--improvements could be made after they were up under open sky instead of underground.

Open sky…Crystal blue or dark as ink with thousands of stars burning above, or a cloudy grey with swirls of snow falling to coat the world below. It had been four years, but he still remembered every detail, from the freezing air against his cheeks or droplets of rain sliding down his upturned face, the sound of snow crunching beneath his feet or a roll of thunder in the distance, a warm hand in his or a flash of a brilliant smile framed by soaked hair.

His fingertips patted out the piano keys to a song, the light tapping audible, but no musical sound to accompany it except his memory of the times he’d practiced it with her.

“You’re timing something in your head before you try it?” Furlan abruptly guessed. Levi stopped his tapping, but otherwise didn’t react, shifting through a bolt of fabric in the crate to see if anything was concealed in it.

“No,” he answered bluntly, and Furlan sighed before going back to what he was doing.

He’d been trying to guess what that tick of Levi’s was since he first saw Levi do it, and he so far hadn’t guessed. He probably wouldn’t, either, but it was amusing to watch him try sometimes.

Even if he guessed right by some miracle, Levi wouldn’t tell him. That time...that time was a memory for him. Those little pieces of music some of the only things he could take with him to remember her by, besides the memories themselves. It was why he still practiced in the dirt and open air, or against his leg or whatever he happened to be holding at the time, why he still tried to remember the sound and the pattern after all this time.

Sometimes, if he let his focus drift away from the present, he could almost feel her hands against his.

Levi let the old ache persist for a few more moments, holding the memories at the front of his mind before he reminded himself it did him no good to dwell on what was unreachable to him now. At least when he was supposed to be focused on something else. The dwelling was meant for the quiet moments he was left to himself, or while he stayed up with nothing but his insomnia and the memories to keep him company.

After the first two, three years of not going back, he’d resigned himself to the reality that his worst fear regarding his visits to her world had finally happened. One day the visits had simply stopped, and he had to find a way to move on from the brief glimpses into a better world he’d been given, the door appearing to be fully shut and sealed to him now, with Y/N on the other side.

He hoped she was all right, wherever she was now. He hoped she got into that college she’d wanted to go to despite everyone telling her she couldn’t make it. He hoped she got far away from that town, but she was still in close contact with her family. He hoped she found more friends, that she was able to build up a comfy lifestyle by now. Or at the very least, was well on the way there by now.

He knew how hard that could be, but at least she’d started well above where he was at now. He had longer and farther to climb.

He just wished it could have been to where she lived.

“All right, I don’t see anything with too much heat on it in here. What about you?” Furlan asked.

Levi sighed, eyes roaming over the contents he’d been shuffling through while he spaced out with a much sharper eye, looking for anything he might consider a red flag item.

He closed his eyes, shaking his head slightly. He was usually so focused, he was almost embarrassed how much his memories were sweeping him away and bringing his mind elsewhere right now.

Opening his eyes, Levi was determined to focus and make sure him and Furlan didn’t accidentally bring home anything that was going to be more trouble than it was worth.

The crate was gone. And his hand was hovering just above a dull beige carpet, the light much brighter than it had been a few moments ago, and artificial instead of the usual firelight he was used to.

Levi’s breath had caught, and he held very still, as if afraid the slightest movement might shatter the reality around him. A slight stretch forward, and he could feel the sponginess of the carpet in front of him, which confirmed that what he was seeing was real.

Heart pounding, Levi turned his head to look around him, taking in the sight of a small house, fairly sparse, lots of flat and dull colors, a few cracks in the walls, and he was pretty sure there was a picture strategically placed on the wall to hide a hole. He was standing in a hallway with an open archway behind him and what looked like a back door at the end of the hall, stairs just off to the side in the same direction leading to a second story. He turned enough to see a small dining room behind him with a simple table and two chairs, and just around the corner must have been the kitchen. And from there, he could hear movement.

Y/N...?

Levi got to his feet slowly, his steps careful and quiet just in case he was wrong. He crept towards the kitchen, heartbeat rapid in his ears as he peeked around the corner, hand pressed lightly against the wall.

There she was, standing at a stove in this tiny little kitchen, bent over two pots as she cooked something to eat, a recipe book open just off to her left to give instructions on how to make whatever it was she was focused on.

She hadn't noticed him yet, and he had to swallow a sudden wave of complicated emotions at seeing her again, the most predominant of which was joy and longing. It had been four long years. He was only praying the universe wouldn't be cruel again and separate them before he had time to say something to her.

Well then, he shouldn't be standing here gawking like an idiot if he didn't want that to happen. He needed to say something--anything.

"Y/N?" He managed to get himself to say, tone making it sound like a question, the word feeling strange but reverent falling from his lips after so long not uttering them.

She jumped at the sudden voice, turning with wide eyes to see who had spoken, then freezing like a deer who'd just made eye contact with a predator. Her shock lasted a few moments, neither one of them daring to move and break the illusion before she spoke, the wooden spoon falling from her hands with a clunk into the water and against the metal rim of the pot.

"Levi?" She asked, voice breathless and small as she stared at him, eyes drinking him in as she took two hesitant steps forwards before she suddenly barreled towards him, hands clutching the front of his shirt as she buried her head in his chest.

There was a sharp intake of breath from both of them at the contact. Levi because he'd expected excitement, but not her throwing herself into his arms and...his shirt was damp, was she crying? Not to mention it had been years since someone touched him like this--he'd started to forget how he was supposed to react, how he wanted to react.

As for Y/N, the contact was when she breathed in and held it, the confirmation that he was real. She might have been trying to stem the flow of tears as well.

"Oh my God, you're real. It's been so long since…" she swallowed, a shaken laugh leaving her as she pulled back, looking up at his startled features. “I didn’t think you were ever going to come back! Where have you been? How have you been? How are you here now?”

Those tears were still in her eyes, and she was throwing herself at him with unrestrained...ambition? Passion? He was rusty reading her moods, so he couldn’t quite pinpoint what she was feeling, especially while she was still teary and still recovering from the shock of seeing him again.

She pulled away completely, seeming to realize how emotional she was getting right now as she wiped her eyes with her wrists, trying to regain her composure. “I’m sorry, I-I’m overwhelming you, aren’t I? Sorry, one question at a time…” she said with a nervous laugh.

“Are you all right?” Levi asked in mild concern. There had been far more waterworks than he’d expected in that reunion, and it made him worry.

“I’m okay, I’m okay, I just...I really didn’t think I was going to see you again,” she said in a tiny voice.

“Neither did I,” Levi admitted. Now that he was here, and the awkwardness was settling over them…

The last time they’d seen each other, he’d kissed her. And now it had been four years. Was it even relevant even more? Was it even something he should bring up? Probably not right away, maybe save it until a little further into the day.

Levi looked around at the dull-looking house around him, the slightest pull of a frown starting to appear on his features. Now that he was looking...there was no piano. No splashes of color or personal touches, no scattered magazines or little projects she was working on. He’d always felt the places she lived were warm and personal, cozy, comfortable. This place was...indifferent and impersonal. Worn down, even. The cracks along the walls, the low-end furnishings...it reminded him of the Underground, and that didn’t sit well with him.

“You moved again,” he commented, eyes still moving around the surroundings.

“Yeah. I moved out for college, so no living with my parents anymore. They’re both...in different states now. Mom’s still in the same state as before with my stepdad and little sibling, and my dad’s a little closer, but still quite a ways away, and in another state as well...It’s a new area, though. Northwest--very northwest. It’s…” She seemed to struggle not to say dreary, settling instead on simply saying, “it rains a lot.”

Levi’s frown only grew. “I thought you said that school you were trying so hard to get into was out on the east coast?” Levi asked observantly, studying her closely. She turned away, but not before Levi caught a flash of pain in her eyes as she tried to feign that she was reminded of the food on the stove and was trying to focus on it.

“Yeah...but, ah...plans changed,” she said quietly.

Levi’s eyes narrowed at something in her tone he couldn’t pinpoint, but he certainly didn’t like it. “Plans change? Did you not get accepted?”

“I did.”

“Then it was too expensive.”

“No, I had a full ride, it was all completely paid for, nothing out of pocket.”

“Was it not what you expected?”

“It just didn’t work out,” she said much sharper than Levi had been anticipating, agitated by Levi poking at the subject trying to figure out what exactly had changed. “I don’t want to talk about it, Levi,” she said softly, body language stiff and closed off.

What happened in the four years he was gone? What had he missed? And why was she so...different? She didn’t feel like the same girl who’d pulled him into a rainstorm and drove him out to a hayfield simply to look at the stars, who’d marveled at snow and ice right with him and pulled him into so many different situations without hesitation, no reservations, just pure energy and happiness.

Now that he stepped back and looked at her, really took a moment to feel the energy in the room and take the time to get a proper read on her once the excitement of being back started to fade...she wasn’t bright, she was dulled. She was withdrawn and reserved, hesitant and quiet, a slight hunch to her shoulders, hiding her face.

What the hell happened? And why had he missed it?

She sighed over where she was bent over her food, and Levi felt himself rapidly withdrawing inside himself, kicking himself for thinking this was going to be even a modicum of what it used to be. His gaze was turned away, expression going from the worried frown and maybe a spark of hurt in his eyes that she cut him off so sharply to his usual indifferent expression in the silence that hung in the room. He suddenly became painfully aware of a distance that seemed to be yawning between them, four years of distance, so much apparently happening and he had no idea what besides college “didn’t work out” for reasons unknown.

And the last he’d seen, she’d been desperate to crawl out of the place she was living and get to the east coast. Instead she ended up in this dump on the complete other side?

“What about you? Are you still underground?” she asked, her tone suddenly normal and casual, though something about it felt insincere, like it was a front. Maybe not the question itself, it sounded like she genuinely wanted to know what had happened with him the past four years, but the casualness, the appearance that everything was fine--that was what felt false.

“Yeah,” he said shortly, watching as she moved away from the food to reach for the glasses in one of the cabinet and fill them with tap water, offering one to Levi, who left it sitting on the table beside him as he chose instead to watch her closely, his steely blue gaze following her every move and expression.

“Okay...I know you didn’t really talk much about what your life is like, but...is there anything you can tell me about it? How you’ve been, how you’re doing?”

“Only if you tell me how you’ve been in return,” Levi countered quickly. She looked away uncomfortably, going to open the fridge and fish around for the milk. As the door drifted further open, Levi’s gaze zoned in on the collection of brown bottles that clinked as she moved them aside to get to a small container of milk in the back. Whether it was his world or another, beer seemed universally recognizable. And there was a lot stocked in that fridge.

“I didn’t know you drank,” Levi said, his expression and tone as unreadable as he could manage, gaze fixated on her. She quickly shut the door, milk in hand as she headed over to the pots again to add a little milk to one of them.

“I don’t--those aren’t mine,” she said briefly.

“Whose are they, then?” Levi asked before she could try to direct the conversation back towards him. He didn’t want to talk about all his thievery and fights in the Underground, anyway. He wanted to know what had changed...everything, so drastically.

And if those weren’t her beer bottles, what were they doing in her fridge, and whose were they?

She was ignoring him, it seemed, choosing not to answer, her back to him so he couldn’t see her face once more.

“Y/N…” Levi started to say, the worry seeping into his tone this time as a rumble outside grew louder, and for a second, Levi thought that it was raining outside and he just hadn’t bothered to look out a window. Y/N, however, stiffened, then swore, abandoning what she was to suddenly start pushing him down the hall.

“Quick, out the back,” she said frantically.

“What? Why?” Levi asked, thrown off as the rumble got loud enough to be coming from just outside before abruptly ending.

“Because it looks really, really bad that I’m home alone right now with another guy--just, just--down the street to the intersection, take a left, then a right, another left, wait for me by the store that says Wal-Mart on Kensington Avenue, I’ll come as soon as I can get away, okay?”

“Y/N--”

“Just go!” she said sharply in a hiss, pointing towards the back door by the stairs he’d noticed earlier as she disappeared through another door towards the front door, straightening her long sleeve shirt and nervously brushing hair from her face before she vanished from his sight, Levi hesitantly creeping towards the back door even though he had no idea why he had to flee so suddenly when he never had to before.

As Levi quietly opened the back door, he heard conversation faintly from the living room.

“You’re home early, darling. I’ve almost got dinner ready, just a little longer. Let me get that for you…”

Levi paused with his hand still on the doorknob, even though he knew she might be trying to buy him time to slip out the back. But hearing that--darling, home, the beer in the fridge, her comment about being home alone with another guy--

Suddenly he felt like some kind of secret lover being smuggled out the back window. And it bothered him far more than he wanted to admit, the thought of being the other man, even if as far as he knew they were still just friends, considering their kiss had been years ago. She had every right to move on, and he had no right to be jealous. It shouldn’t bother him, he shouldn’t expect her to stay single when neither of them expected to see the other again.

But it still bothered him.

Before he could cause any drama between the two, Levi did as he was asked, shutting the door quietly behind him and hopping the fence of the back yard to sneak out to the street out front. There was an unnecessarily high off the ground truck out front that must have been the source of the rumble sound. Levi spared it a glance before taking a look up at the murky skies up above, a gloominess seeming to hang over the area that seemed like a conglomeration of small, thin houses in various states of disrepair, messy front lawns, cracked pavement…

Levi hesitated in front of the sidewalk, a bad feeling stirring in his gut as he stared back at the house. Nothing about this felt right to him. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be here. Yeah, he knew life was shitty, but she’d always made it...brighter. There was nothing bright or warm about this place, and what little conversation they’d had so far left a bitter aftertaste in his mouth, her sudden (At least, sudden to him) shift in attitude and demeanor was disconcerting, and he was worried about her.

The chill in the air, however, turned his attention away from the house she didn’t want him inside right now and back towards the street in front of him, mind shifting to finding the location she’d mentioned in the hopes he could find a warmer spot. He wasn’t exactly dressed for a cold breeze, since he was below ground where he lived and currently didn’t have to worry about that kind of thing.

He followed her instructions until he ended up outside a grey and blue building, standing on the sidewalk near the sign that had the street name on it, on the end closest to the direction her place was. He wanted to make sure she could see him when she came, so he stayed outside, even though he was worried it would be a while since she’d mentioned she was making dinner for her and...whoever that was.

Levi sulked, his expression darkening as he stared at the ground, trying desperately not to think about their relationship. Clearly it was further than just dating, they were living together. Were they married? Was she happy with him?

He wouldn’t think so, given her attitude change and the look of the run down house, but who was he to judge? How would he know? He’d been gone for four years, and clearly a lot had changed. Plans for college out the window, she was far from family, she was living in a place that reminded him of Underground houses...It was fucked up how the man’s truck looked more expensive than the house. Wouldn’t you spend more money on where you lived, not your mode of transportation? Y/N had owned a car that was reliable--it wasn’t shiny with a fresh pain of coat, she’d mentioned it was an older car, but it was reliable...and he noticed it wasn’t out front. There was no second car, just the truck.

Is she okay? Is she really okay with this? Is this really what she wants to be doing?

Time continued to stretch by, time that Levi spent simply standing by a street sign waiting for someone who still wasn’t showing up. He was starting to freeze up over here, and while he’d expected it to be a bit of a wait, this was getting a little too long. He was starting to get anxious that he’d spend whatever little time he had here trying to get her.

Just as he started to think to hell with it, he would head back to the house anyway and knock on the front door, she finally appeared on the other side of the street, fiddling with her long sleeves to pull them down again and with a scarf tied neatly around her neck, cheeks flushed and breathing a little heavy like she ran over here. She crossed quickly to reach him, a flicker of that old fire of hers in her eyes as she smiled shyly at him, coming to a stop in front of him.

“Sorry I made you wait,” she said timidly, though she offered no explanation as to why it took so long. “What?” she asked self-consciously, fixing the scarf when she realized he was staring at her with an odd look.

“Why the scarf?” he asked. This was the same girl who rolled around and played in the snow with him without a scarf, leaving it stuffed in her pocket after it kept falling off in all the roughhousing. And that hadn’t been just because they were kids and they didn’t know better or care--this had been four years ago. She hadn’t cared about now sneezy the cold might make her, and she hadn’t cared to even wear the scarf loosely thrown around her neck when she /did/ wear it. Yet now that it was a little nippy out, she wore a scarf tied so neatly around her neck like a second skin, but nothing else? No coat, no hat, no gloves?

She shrugged. “It’s not too bad out--I just wanted something to keep my neck and cheeks warm on the way here.”

Yet the scarf wasn’t pulled high enough to cover her cheeks. Just her neck.

Maybe he was just over analyzing because he was worried about her...

Before he could question her again, she started forward, cutting across a brief green space to head towards the store, pulling briefly on his sleeve before letting go and keeping her hands to herself.

“Come on, let’s get inside where it’ll be warmer. I snuck a twenty, so we should be able to treat ourselves to something. I’d say ice cream for the good old days, but I don’t think the weather’s fitting for that,” she said sheepishly, prattling away. Once more, it didn’t feel quite as natural as it should have been. It felt force, purposeful to distract him. Like she was putting all her effort into putting up a front as she led him through the doors.

What gave it away was her inability to stop talking. Even before, she’d known when to stop and let the silence speak for itself, when to give Levi a chance to talk. She wasn’t doing that right now, prattling on about the store being a chain store found all over the place, talking about how normally the outdoor section they walked through was filled with plants in the spring and summer but they had been put away or pulled inside for the fall and winter seasons, how you could find a general collection for most needs here--whatever came to mind as they walked, she droned on and on about, like it was a nervous tick.

Eventually, when it was just them at the end of an aisle with no one around and he’d listened to the meaningless prattle for a good fifteen, twenty minutes, he couldn’t take it anymore, and he lightly grasped her arm to bring her to a stop. She flinched slightly at the sudden contact, words stuttering to a halt as Levi’s gaze burned into hers.

“What’s wrong?” he asked her bluntly. She forced a smile, and it sickened him, made his heart sink. Was this the same girl who’d gotten him to open up and show her some of the broken pieces he kept hidden inside himself? The same girl who’d vented and cried into his shoulder before? Who was at least honest with him before if something was bothering her, simply telling him if it was something she’d rather not talk about, but giving in if it was something she should talk about. Who was this stranger in front of him, thinking forced smiles and lies would convince him that she was fine here.

“Nothing’s wrong--” she started to say, the answer rehearsed and the most false she’d given him yet.

“Don’t pretend. Not with me. It’s insulting,” Levi cut her off before she could continue, wounded that she thought such a thin charade was going to pacify him, and wanting nothing more than to do something if there was something wrong.

The smile faltered, and something deep and dark flashed in her eyes. Not dark as in threatening. The scared kind. The emotional kind. The arm he was still holding trembled slightly in his grip.

“It’s nothing that you can fix, Levi,” she said in a small voice, looking like she suddenly wanted to bolt.

“Why not?”

“It’s complicated.”

“It’s not. You’re just making it complicated. And I don’t know why,” Levi said, letting a bit of his frustrations leak through as well as his worries as his eyes roamed her face, trying desperately to find the answers of what happened, what changed. “You’re not even yourself right now, you’re just pretending everything’s fine when it’s not. What’s really going on with you?”

“It’s been four years--”

“That’s an excuse, not an explanation.”

“Levi, please, let it go.”

“No. Not this time. Whatever this is, it's not something you can sweep under a rug, Y/N. It’s everywhere I looked in that damn house, and you’re an entirely different person, so tell me so I can try to help--”

“Y/N?”

The new voice made them both look up in surprise, both of them lost in their hushed conversation and as such, completely missing that someone had spotted Y/N from the other end of the aisle and was currently making their way towards a scene that could easily be misinterpreted.

Levi let go of her instinctively before anyone could freak out about the shady guy that wasn’t her boyfriend or whatever that had a hold of her arm, staring at the man that was now approaching them, worry in his gaze as he looked between the two.

Y/N had turned fidgety, staring at the other man with a bit of recognition in her eyes, but not familiarity. “Is there something you need?”

A spark of pity appeared in the man’s eyes. “You’ve wandered a little ways from home, haven’t you?”

Levi’s brows furrowed in confusion at what the man was saying, but Y/N seemed to grow nervous, which put Levi on edge.

“No, I’m just--I’m just out with a friend. For a little while.”

The man’s gaze flickered to Levi, his expression telling Levi that he didn’t really believe her. “Right...but I’m sure Roy is worried sick about you. Let me just call him and let him know where you are so he can--”

“No! No, listen,” she said with panic in her voice, and Levi felt a chill go down his spine as a thought started to take root in his mind, growing with each word uttered in this bizarre exchange in front of him. “I haven’t seen anyone in two years, I know, I’m going home after this, but I just want to spend some time with a friend for a while before I head back.”

“I know what it means when Roy’s not here, you can’t be out on your own like this, you’re confused, you could get hurt--”

“I’m not crazy!” she snapped. The stranger reached out for her arm, she flinched away, and Levi’s hand snapped out to grab his wrist before it could reach again.

The eyes that looked at him were not filled with pity, but hard accusation, apparently deeming Levi as some kind of threat. He wasn’t to her, but he was about to be to whoever the hell this was.

“I don’t know who you think you are taking advantage of a confused girl like this--” the man started to say, but Levi cut him off in a harsh and hard voice.

“I’m a friend who’s known her longer than this Roy guy, and if you don’t keep your hands off her, I will remove them myself.”

The man flinched back from Levi’s grip, which Levi allowed because his attention was elsewhere now, the suspicion that was growing in the back of his mind just needed a little physical proof he was certain he was about to see.

Without asking for permission or giving her any kind of warning that might give her time to try and hide again, Levi gently grasped her arm and yanked back the sleeve. Instead of smooth, unblemished skin, there was a collection of bruises and even a few cuts. His hands turned deceptively still as hers began to tremble.

“Levi, stop, what are you--” she tried to protest, the panic clear in her voice as he grabbed the other arm--gently, again--to pull back that sleeve and reveal the same thing beneath the second sleeve. She tried to flinch away when he reached for the scarf, but he had enough of a grip it pulled loose, revealing fresh, ugly bruises around her throat she’d been trying to cover up by wearing it.

The man behind them was finally silent, and Levi stared wordlessly at Y/N, processing what he was seeing and the confirmation of his theory as she refused to look him in the eyes, tears slipping down her cheeks as she looked away in shame.

He’d been trying to figure out what happened to her, what changed, why she was so different. He’d thought maybe his disappearance had hurt her more than he thought, maybe something went wrong at college and things had spiraled out of control, maybe something happened that made her give up hope.

Except this was worse. This was much, much worse.

Of all the things that came to mind in this very moment, he thought of the day he’d seen the fire in her eyes when she swore she wouldn’t be caged. And now he was staring at the shaken form of a woman who had been forced into a cage when she’d fought so hard to escape them and their limitations. Someone had forced that fiery soul he’d admired to bend and break and conform until it was jammed into a too-small and isolated box without color or life.

It was wrong. It was disgusting.

And he was livid.

“Levi...Levi, wait!” Y/N called out in a panic, but for once, he ignored her, gaze dark as he turned without a word and left the building, purposeful steps leading him back the way he came as Y/N chased after him with calls of his name, trying to stop him. He wasn’t going to let her stop him, not this time.

By the time the house came into view, Levi’s blood was burning in his veins, that power in himself that he’d unlocked long ago when he’d decided to protect her from this ugly world rearing its head and chomping at the bit to sink its teeth into this Roy guy.

He tried the front door, only to discover it was locked. She must have snuck out the back, earlier, then, like he had.

“There you are you little sl--”

The angry growl from another man’s voice was cut sharply off as Levi, not in the mood to waste time jumping a fence and coming through the back door, kicked the door in with one simple move. The door’s abrupt burst inwards was what caused the voice to be cut off, as the edge of the door slammed into the man’s face and sent him reeling back.

Levi wasn’t paying attention to physical features, what he looked like, how much larger than him he was, nothing like that. He stepped inside, saw the man holding his nose in surprise, and descended on him like a sicced dog.

Eyes flashing dangerously, Levi gave no explanation for why he, a stranger to this man, kicked down his door and attacked him. He just started swinging, one hand grabbing Roy’s shirt so tight it started to rip and the fabric cut into his throat while the other formed a fist and started repeatedly bashing into his face. Blood sprayed in the first two seconds, but Levi kept going, ducking out of the way as he tried to return a swing, getting underneath him and tackling him into an end table that splintered with the force of the impact, sending them both to the floor.

At that point, Y/N had caught up, and she was standing in the doorway shouting for him to stop. Again, Levi ignored her. He would stop when he felt like Roy’d had enough, and right now, he didn’t think he had. He was on his feet now, foot flying out in violent kicks to do damage to more than just the man’s face, taking his fury of what Roy had done to her out on any body part that came within reach of his foot.

Timid hands locked around his arm, and Levi turned to see Y/N grabbing his arms with tears in her eyes, looking scared and desperate and shaken. He finally stopped, staring at her for a few moments and the tears in her eyes as, once more, she begged him to stop, except now he was looking at her, and he was paying attention.

“Levi, please, I just…” She sniffled, sobbed, and then started to cry, and Levi’s rage started to melt away, heart softening and aching painfully to see her clinging to him sobbing so openly. The last time she’d done that had been when she’d ran away and got lost, and that had been nothing like this.

He turned to face her, hand gently reaching out to touch her shoulder, part of him wanting to stop and comfort her, but the other part knowing this wasn’t the time for that, not yet, anyway.

“Is the house yours?” he asked.

“No…”

“The car?”

“No.”

“Pack your stuff. Whatever’s yours, whatever you want to keep, pack it. I’ll meet you outside,” Levi said softly, giving her a gentle push towards the hall to get her moving and away from the bloody sight of Roy on the ground.

Well, he’d pushed himself up and crawled over to the weathered chest in the center of the room that acted as a coffee table as Levi was focused on and talking to you, flipping open the lid and drawing Levi’s attention back towards him as he heard a faint but recognizable, even in this world, click.

And the weapon was not aimed at Levi, but Y/N still standing in the doorway of the living room looking timid and afraid to leave because of what Levi might do while she was gone.

“Fucking bitch--” Roy yelled as Levi’s hand shot out to knock the weapon out of his hand, the gun firing and the shot going wild as Levi yanked Roy’s hand closer towards him--but the barrel wasn’t aimed at Levi, he wasn’t stupid. The bullet embedded itself into the wall right of Y/N, who screamed as the shot went off.

Levi twisted Roy’s hand until there was a snap and the gun clattered to the floor as Roy let out a short scream of pain, Levi kicking the gun far out reach and pulling out his knife to keep Roy compliant, dragging the man effortlessly out the front door and onto the front lawn, throwing him to the ground as Y/N followed at least just outside the door instead of heading back inside.

“Levi!” she started to shout, but Levi pointed one of his bloodied hands back at the door behind her.

“Go get your stuff--I’ll handle this,” he said firmly, and she hesitated a few moments before she finally headed inside the house to go pack, leaving Levi alone with Roy.

Levi pressed his knee against the man’s back to hold him down, one hand fisted into his hair to hold his head back, knife out and pressed into his throat until blood started to dribble down the blade.

“The only reason you’re not dead, is because I don’t want her to see that. Not to mention you’ve got her so fucked up right now I doubt it would only make her more upset,” Levi said in a low, threatening tone, keeping his words quiet as he spoke so only him and Roy could hear if Y/N came back outside. “So I’m taking her, we’re leaving, and you’re never going to darken the same town as her. If you so much as think of her again, I will gut you and leave you for dead in some dark alley no one will ever find you in. And I was gutting grown men before you had your first beer and started calling yourself a man, so when I say that’s what I’ll do to you, I mean it.”

Levi removed the blade, stepping away and pulling out his handkerchief to start cleaning the blood off his hands and knife, keeping his gaze sharply on the beaten man below him as he waited for Y/N to make a reappearance.

“Who the hell do you think you are to take what’s mine?” Roy spat.

Levi kicked him so he would turn over, putting his boot on the man’s throat to stop him from talking anymore--he didn’t want to hear the filth pouring from his lips.

“I’m the man who will kill you without a second thought if you try anything with her ever again. And she was never yours. She’s a person, not an object.”

Levi watched him struggling underneath him, putting more pressure on his throat whenever Roy tried to claw him off, not an ounce of his currently vicious attention leaving him. He was aware that they had an audience--some neighbors were standing on their porch to see what was going on, no one brave enough to come face the man with the knife who’d beaten Roy to a pulp. Though some of them seemed to be on phones, probably calling for actual help. No matter. They’d be out of here before any police arrived.

Y/N finally appeared, a single, small suitcase in hand, a coat on her frame this time, the scarf tied in place once more to hide the bruise on her throat. Levi’s boot lifted off Roy’s neck, the knife he’d been cleaning now tucked away and out of sight and his hands clean as Y/N timidly started to approach him.

“You won’t make it out of town before the cops--” Roy started to wheeze, but Levi kicked him hard in the head, knocking him out in the process.

He should have done that earlier, honestly.

Levi held out an arm, pulling her protectively to his side with his arm around her shoulders as they quickly left the house behind.

“People are staring,” Y/N mumbled. Her eyes were red from the crying, her cheeks flushed and wet with tears. Levi’s hand gave her shoulder a gentle rub of comfort, trying to give her a bit of assurance.

“Don’t worry about that, let’s just get you out of here,” Levi muttered, taking the directions she’d given him to at least get them to the store she’d had him meet her at.

They could have taken the truck to get out of there faster, so they could just start driving, but he didn’t want to risk Roy coming after her for stealing anything that was legally his, so they were going to have to start on foot until they could find transport.

And as much as he wanted to be the one to take care of her right now, to tell her she didn’t have to worry about anything and he would take care of it all, he was a stranger in this world, and he didn’t understand it nearly as well as she did. He needed her help to get her out of here, get her somewhere safe and secure where Roy couldn’t touch her.

They needed transportation and money. Those were the two important things right now.

“Do you have any money? Any at all?” Levi asked her as they came up on the store.

“No--I haven’t had a job in two years. The twenty from earlier I took from Roy,” she said quietly.

“What about a phone so we can call someone, like your parents?”

“I haven’t had a phone in two years, either.”

Levi made a noise of frustration with how truly stuck Roy made her. He moved her across the country away from everyone she knew (Besides Levi, who appeared wherever she was, but had been missing for four years), took away her transportation, took away her phone so she couldn’t contact anyone, took all of her money so she couldn’t buy her way anywhere, told their neighbors if she was out and about without him she was in trouble because she was unwell or sick in the head or some bullshit…

“If we go inside we might be able to borrow the store’s phone, though,” she said in a small voice. “And get you a new shirt. There’s blood on yours.”

There was. They would probably get odd looks if he went inside with blood on him with a girl that looked shaken and scared, maybe get the police called on them again. This wasn’t the Underground, people weren’t guaranteed to look the other way.

“Give me your coat, then. We’ll go inside, get a new shirt, and you can borrow a phone to call your parents...do you remember their numbers?”

The only number he had to remember was 911 with that lesson she gave him a while back, but he was aware the other numbers were ten digits. And it had been a while since she called them.

“I’ve always known my dad’s number like the back of my hand. And he’s never changed it, so...I can call him,” she said, her voice shaking slightly at the prospect. But she was shrugging off her coat, so clearly she was accepting the idea.

Levi pulled on her coat and covered himself up so the blood on his shirt wasn’t noticeable. The blood on his pants and boots was another story, but that he might be able to brush off as paint or mud considering the dreary weather. Once his hands were through the sleeves, he grasped her hand in his own and gave it a firm squeeze to reassure her, pulling her along after him as he headed for the doors they’d gone through earlier.

“Come on, let’s get you out of here,” he said lowly, guiding them inside. Once inside, though, she took over, walking unsteadily to the other side of the store and approaching the counter with a nervous, jittery disposition as the lady on the other side stared expectantly at her. “Can we, um...can I...I mean…”

“Can we borrow a phone?” Levi interrupted after watching her struggle to get the words out for several painful moments. The lady looked taken aback, gaze scanning them over and narrowing at them suspiciously. “She needs to make a call to her father.”

The woman’s analytical gaze didn’t lessen, but she did gesture to a phone behind the counter. “You can use this one.”

*Reader’s POV*

Your hands were still shaking as you moved around the counter, repeating the number in your head over and over in the hopes that doing so would make it correct. When you were younger, you’d always mixed up two of the numbers, and you were hoping you weren’t about to do that again. You needed this call to go through.

You were still shaken by the abrupt turn this day had taken. When you’d first seen Levi, you were just happy to see /anyone/ outside of Roy. Especially the young man you had been convinced you’d never see again.

But Levi had always been observant, always good at reading people, and it hadn’t taken him long to start digging at things that made you reflexively panic, instinctively trying to hide the truth of your situation even from the one person you thought you might be able to be open with. But Roy had too tight a hold on you and your life--you were too terrified to even let anyone suspect what was going on behind closed doors. It wasn’t like you’d had a way out. He’d stripped you of every freedom and mode of independence until it was too late, until you were isolated and locked in with no sign of ever escaping. So you tried desperately to make it work, for your sake.

And when Roy got home, the thought of him seeing you with another man...you’d felt like you were staring death in the face. No amount of saying Levi was just a friend would convince him, which was why you’d sent him out the back. Of course, you’d forgotten about the two glasses you’d poured earlier, which was where the bruise around your neck came from. Roy had picked you up by the throat and slammed you against the wall, demanding the truth as you desperately spun a lie about pouring yourself a glass and forgetting where you put it until after pouring a second. Your insistence even after you ran out of air might have been what saved your life.

Getting out had consisted of waiting until after you’d finished and served Roy dinner, claiming you were going to take a bath to clean up after all the housework and instead sneaking out the back door. You knew there would be hell to pay when you came back, that Roy would be furious you snuck out of the house he kept you restrained inside, but to see Levi...seeing Levi made it worth it.

Even being in his presence made you feel a little safer, made the air feel clearer instead of suffocating, made a bit of hope peak through the gloom you’d been trapped in. You just wanted a few minutes of that before Levi inevitably disappeared, just a few moments of safety and warmth beside him would be worth any retaliation Roy doled out when it ended.

But the moment was shattered. Any attempt you made to keep Levi from finding out, afraid of what would happen when he did, only made Levi more suspicious, because he knew you, and he’d known something was wrong from the start. It had only taken one look for him to realize you were a bird with broken wings shoved in a corner of a cage and left to die. But you were too afraid to say anything, too afraid of the fallout, of what would happen to Roy. Because part of you had kept believing that if you just tried a little harder, if you just stopped messing up, if you could do one thing right, maybe he would go back to the way he’d been when you first met, maybe you could fix it. It was your fault it had developed to this point, anyway, not his. That was what you believed, anyway.

So seeing the dark fury in Levi’s eyes, remembering the few times he’d come through to your world in the middle of a fight, that one time when you were young that he came back covered in blood, you’d been afraid. You might have never seen Levi like that, but you knew what it would lead to. But Levi was faster than you, and unlike before, he wasn’t going to listen to your pleas to let it go, to stop and leave it be. He was going to do something about it.

The fight had been terrifying to witness--mostly because every witnessed blow made you flinch, and you had never seen Levi with that dark fury in his eyes lashing out at someone with such murderous intent. You really thought Levi was going to kill Roy in that moment.

When you stopped him, maybe part of it had been a conditioned reaction to not let Roy be hurt, maybe part of you was still afraid for Roy because he was still your partner. But Levi was close to you in a way Roy could never fill, no matter how badly you tried to fit the cold and cutting square peg that was Roy into the round hole that was where Levi’s warmth and comfort was supposed to be. You were afraid, but while Roy had conditioned you to be obedient and follow his whims, Levi was the one with your loyalty, with the history, with the true and even reciprocated affection. When you’d stopped that fight, if it could be called that, it was because you just wanted it all to be over. You just wanted out of that hell house and somewhere safe, you wanted Levi to take you with him anywhere but here. You didn’t want him to look scary and covered in blood right now, you wanted him to whisk you away and hold you and tell you it was going to be all right.

But it seemed right now wasn’t the time for that in his mind. He was taking the part about getting you out of here seriously. The only form of comfort you had right now was the fact you were away from Roy at the moment, the small squeezes Levi gave your hand, and the protective arm around your shoulders.

But you kept thinking what would happen when Roy caught up to you. When the police were called and this was considered a kidnapping, when Levi got arrested for the assault at least, possibly worse. When you were dragged back to the house where a punishment that would probably finally leave you dead would be waiting for you. It was what had you so terrified. That someone would pull you out of Levi’s comforting grip and throw you back to Roy, that this couldn’t last, that you’d be dragged back. You had nowhere to go, and no way to leave. No money, no car, no phone, no friends or family in the area, you were isolated and surrounded by people who might see Levi and think he was the abuser.

Your fingers shook as you dialed the number, almost messing up more than once pressing the buttons on the cord phone that was used in the Wal-Mart, waiting as the rings droned on, then ended with your father’s voicemail.

It was the right number.

You just needed him to pick up even though the Caller ID would likely be Wal-Mart from a state he didn’t even go to. He would think it was a scam call. So you had to keep calling until he answered--praying he would answer before the cops caught up, before Roy came back, before the woman at the counter stopped eyeing Levi like that and decided to just do something about whatever she was assuming in her head.

You called again. No answer.

Again. No answer.

No answer.

Nothing.

“Pick up, please,” you let out in a small sob, only realizing then that you were openly crying as you desperately tried to get your father to pick up the phone. You felt a warm hand on your back and looked over to see Levi standing beside you with concern in his eyes.

“Breathe. Just keep trying,” he said softly, giving your back a small rub to help calm you down as you sucked in sharp breaths of air in your effort to calm back down, rubbing at the tears in your eyes as you kept trying the number back to back.

You tried five more times before you finally heard the dial tone interrupted, your heart leaping into your throat. “Whoever this is--” came the familiar voice of your father, the same time that you squeaked out,

“Daddy?”

The word shook and cracked, already showing that you were vulnerable and emotional and needed help. There was a second of silence as your father registered that you were the mysterious caller, and the tone immediately softened from angry and annoyed to worried and even a little panicked.

“Y/N? Are you all right? What are you doing calling from a Wal-Mart? Why haven’t we heard from you in so long? Are you in Washington? Where have you been?” he asked, a thousand bottled questions from two years of silence starting to flow out.

“I’m not. I mean, I am but I’m not. Daddy, I’m in a really bad...Levi found me, he got me out,” you said, looking at Levi as your voice shook, glad to see he was staying firmly by your side with his hand on your back as you spoke, giving you silent encouragement and not moving away at the vulnerability. You didn’t think you could speak if he wasn’t right there to reassure you. “But we don’t have anywhere to go now. We don’t have a car, or money, or even a phone, we stopped at the Wal-Mart two miles from…”

You sniffled, tears blurring your vision as pent up emotions started to bubble to the surface. You didn’t even care that you were in a public place anymore. You just knew you had a man who truly cared about you that you cared for in return at your side, your father on the other end of the line, and you wanted desperately to go with them and be safe and not get dragged back to Roy’s.

“Daddy, I’m scared,” You admitted, hand shaking on the phone and feeling Levi step closer and his grip reflexively tighten on you at your words. “I think they called the police--the neighbors. Levi sort of...he hurt Roy really bad and I think they think he kidnapped me, Roy might try to have Levi arrested, but I don’t want to--I can’t go back there, I just want to get out of here, I can’t go back there.”

Levi full on wrapped you up in one of his awkward but learning hugs, and you turned your head to cry into his chest for a few moments as he murmured to you that it was going to be alright, he wouldn’t let anyone take you away, you holding the phone further away in the hopes your dad wouldn’t hear because a part of you didn’t want him to hear just how bad it was at the same time you wanted to tell him everything.

“Sweetheart, you need to listen to me,” he said once you had the phone pressed back against your ear to hear him. You recognized that voice--it was his ‘I’ve seen a lot of shit as a soldier and led an interesting life, and I’m about to teach you something important as gently as I can, but you need to listen to me’ voice. “I’m going to give you my bank information, you go to the ATM at the Wal-Mart and pull out two or three hundred dollars. Use it to buy a burner phone, get at least a few hours on it, get some food and something to carry it in, anything else you need for two or three days. I’m going to buy greyhound bus tickets the closest to you I can find that’s leaving in an hour or two, one for you and one for Levi so he can keep you safe, so you have enough time to get what you need and get there. Text me on the phone you buy so I know where to send the tickets, I’ll send you the information, and then you need to call the police and tell them what happened so they arrest Roy, make sure you stress that Levi was defending you and trying to get you to safety and they might not come after the two of you to arrest him. Just focus on getting out of the state first.”

You were fairly certain, considering you knew your father and the way he phrased that, that he was telling you two to evade the police at the same time so Levi wouldn’t be arrested and he could stay with you to keep you safe. You were pretty sure extraditing was a thing, but you weren’t going to worry about it right now--especially because you knew Levi would disappear from custody anyway.

“Okay,” you said in a small voice, listening intently as your father moved on to explain how a cardless cash withdraw worked on an ATM and how he was going to approve the withdraw from an app on his phone, while you only needed to enter his number and the codes he was about to tell you, and the amount, and you would have the money. You said a very shaky goodbye that consisted of some I love you’s before you hung up the phone with the codes running in a loop through your mind, hurrying with Levi over to the ATM that was correspondent with your father’s mainstream bank, entering the phone number, the codes, and then ending up with three hundred dollars in your hands, plus the twenty you took from the house.

Levi let you take the lead in this, since you knew what you were doing even if you were the shaken one that was being rescued. You hurried back to the electronics section, buying and quickly activating the first phone that would suit your needs. Once you had it in hand, you texted your father, who replied with four greyhound bus tickets--two for you and two for Levi, the reason for which being he included a transfer, with enough gap between drop off and pick up time for you and Levi to get a room at a hotel and get a good night’s rest before having to get on the next bus. He explained that there was a curbside pickup spot close to your location at a local gas station that would only require you to show the ticket to the bus driver before you were let on, and that it would be there in a little less than an hour. That allowed you time to do any supply shopping and hurry over there, though he again stressed you needed to call the police immediately and try to explain as much of the situation as possible so you could safely run from Roy without it being considered evading the police. And so they wouldn’t be after Levi for kidnapping, at least.

You were pretty sure what Levi had done to Roy went beyond defense, though, so you weren’t optimistic about that. At least there was no trace of him here in this world besides your stories, not even a birth certificate or a match to a fingerprint. Levi was a ghost here. So long as they didn’t catch him, they couldn’t prosecute him.

That was your thinking right now, anyway.

You grabbed a cart, headed over to the fresh foods section, and started grabbing from the lemonade, salads, wraps, sub sandwiches, potato salad, crackers and cheese trays--everything that was premade and ready for you and would keep in a lukewarm environment until you were in a hotel to put it in a minifridge for a while. Stuff you could eat when you felt like it when you needed it. You hurried over to the men’s aisle, and the two of you found a nice white button down and a pair of black dress pants that he could replace the ones he’d been wearing with. By that point you felt like the breath was being squeezed out of you as you ran out of time and pushed your luck only a few miles from Roy’s house, the police probably at the scene and taking statements by now. But that phone conversation was not one you wanted to have in a store surrounded by all kinds of people. You’d probably cry again, and maybe you’d be asked questions you couldn’t answer around so many people.

So you rushed through buying the food and Levi’s replacement shirt, Levi going into the men’s room with the bag to change while you shakily dialed 911 on the phone as you waited for him to finish, putting the phone to your ear.

“911, what’s your emergency?” came a woman’s voice.

“Um...my name’s...my name’s Y/N L/N...I don’t know if there’s been any calls regarding me yet, but I...I needed to call and clarify what hap--what happened before a false report happened, or whatever it is.”

“I’m sorry, what exactly are you calling for?”

You looked around to make sure there weren’t a lot of people, lowering your voice as you tucked yourself against the wall you were leaning against with your bags at your feet, the food in a newly bought, spacious satchel bag and your suitcase on the other side of it.

“My, um...my boyfriend, Roy Higgins, he um...he was...it was a really, really bad situation. An old friend of mine found me--”

“Found you? What do you mean by found you?”

“Roy isolated me. Moved me where there was no one around that I knew, took away my phone and my car and my money, told people I was sick so if I was out alone, without him, to bring me right back. No one knew where I was, they probably thought it was voluntary.”

“Just to clarify, Roy was abusing you.”

“Yes.”

“And you say your friend found you?”

“Yes. He found me, and he saw...he saw how bad I was hurt when I snuck away to see him, and he went back, to Roy and he...they got into a fight. He beat up Roy pretty bad, and Roy drew a gun on me and he tried to shoot me--”

“Was this before or after the fight?”

“In the middle. My friend was...He was coming to get me out of there, he told me to go pack and we were going to leave, and that’s when Roy tried to shoot me, and L--my friend dragged him out front, I don’t know what happened out there cause I was packing, but...I’m not in danger now, I just, I know neighbors were on phones and I didn’t want the police thinking I was kidnapped, or Roy telling the police I was taken, I want to leave, I don’t want to go back there--I can’t go back there and…” You choked off again, ducking your head away as someone walked by so they wouldn’t see you were crying. “My friend’s just trying to get me somewhere safe, where Roy can’t find and hurt me. I didn’t want any police arresting him or bringing me back there, so I...I called 911 so I could...I could report the abuse...and make sure that it was known I left willingly, my friend didn’t take me he was helping and defending me, and he felt my life was in danger, which it was because Roy almost...before I snuck away to see my friend he almost...and Roy’s just trying to drag me back there.”

“Y/N, is it possible for you to come into the police station to give a statement to clear things up?”

“No. No, I can’t stay here, I just, I have to get away, I just want to get far away from here. If you want a statement just let me, let me do it over the phone, or at the station in the other state when I’ve finally stopped running from him.”

At that point, Levi came out of the men’s restroom, looking clean and proper as he took in the sight of you on the phone again, fresh tears on your face. You rubbed your eyes to get rid of them and straightened, Levi picking up the bags at your feet and gesturing for the two of you to get moving.

You followed after him as you continued speaking on the phone, knowing he knew where to go because you’d told him while the two of you were shopping for clothes and food.

“Okay, then Y/N, would you be willing to at least answer some questions right now so the police know some of what Roy’s done, so they can charge him properly?”

“Yes,” you said simply, staring at Levi’s shoes as you spoke while the two of you walked almost side by side. The questions that were coming, you felt like they might be the kind you didn’t want Levi to hear, but you wanted as much as possible on the record as fast as possible. Hopefully Roy would be locked up, and you would have some time before he could come after you.

Because, surely, he’d come after you. He’d want his prize back.

“How long were you two in a relationship?”

“Three years. Roughly.”

“Was he always abusive?”

“Not at first. He eased into it.”

“Was the abuse physical, mental, emotional?”

“All of it.”

“Did he ever sexually abuse you?”

Your gaze flickered to Levi, your voice tiny and barely heard as you spoke into the phone. “How...how would you define that?” You asked quietly, your mind flashing back to what happened to Levi, at long last able to understand what had happened that day, exactly, beyond ‘someone hurt him terribly,’ but unsure if what happened to you counted as that kind of abuse.

“Did he every touch you when you didn’t want to be touched, or pressure or force you to have sex with him when you didn’t want to?”

“Yes,” you said, voice somehow getting lower as you confirmed it. “More than once.”

You were trying to be very brief and vague about the way you confirmed what she was asking, because you didn’t want Levi to figure out what you were talking about, still attempting to shield him from at least some modicum of the reality of what you went through.

What you didn’t know was the Levi could hear what was being said. He was on full alert, keeping his eyes out for the slightest sign of trouble or Roy, and one of the things that meant was that he was listening very hard to his surroundings...and he could pick up the words coming from the other end of the phone with how close to him you were standing. If you were looking at his hands instead of his feet, you would have noticed the white knuckle grip on the bags in his hands, as well as the slight tremble in them.

“You mentioned earlier that your friend was trying to protect you, and that he felt you were in danger. That Roy shot at you. He actively tried to kill you?”

“Twice. Also before I met with my friend,” you told her.

“Had he reached that level of violence before?”

“Yes, but he usually stopped just short of it.”

The questions continued beyond that, the operator fishing for chargeable incidents she could put on the record of the call that you could talk about right now, your answers still kept brief with Levi next to you but still trying to make it clear so no one could claim too much ambiguity and shiftiness in her answers. You were still on the phone as you and Levi stood at the pickup point for the greyhound bus, Levi keeping to himself for the time being as you answered questions on the phone before, at long last, you hung up, pulling up the tickets on your burner phone and making sure to keep your father updated. You told him you were at the stop and that you’d given your side of the story, as well as telling him how much money you had left after the phone, food, and Levi’s clean change of clothes. He mentioned you might need to withdraw a bit more when you stopped to sleep at a hotel, and that he would shift around some money in the meantime so it would be there if you needed it, and that he would be ready to set up the bank withdraw through his phone again if you needed it.

Finally, finally, you tucked the phone into your pocket, looking up and around you at the bus stop, the sun starting to set and making darkness quickly settle over the area, the already chilly air getting gradually colder. The unknown yawning in front of you was terrifying, waiting for a greyhound bus to come and take you far, far away from Roy. The freedom was enough to make fresh tears well in your eyes, but the fear that the rug could still get yanked out from under you, the fact that you didn’t know where to go from here, that still terrified you.

You looked at Levi at your side, noticing that his eyes were still on you even though he’d been keeping to himself and letting you have your conversations in peace. He was tense, even though the lean against the bus stop bench glass wall suggested relaxation. There was only a bit of blood on the brown vest he was wearing over the white button up, the rest thoroughly washed away.

Fully grown, past the teenage years and childhood in general, Levi’s features were sharp and...even more attractive than they had been before. Though he also had a tougher exterior now, a general air of ‘do not mess with me’ that usually the kids in actual gangs in high school used to have. But that vibe wasn’t a deterrent for you, because you knew him as a person. You knew how soft and gentle and warm he could be--as he’d been with you since he’d appeared even when he pushed to try and get the truth from you for your own good, so he could protect you.

And after seeing him beat the shit out of Roy, even if the violence hadn’t been what you wanted because you were so sick of violence right now, and seeing him derail the shot so no one got hurt, you were never going to doubt that he could protect you ever again.

“Everything set?” Levi asked as you stared at him, straightening up and coming to stand directly beside you now.

You nodded. “The trip should bring us...or me, if you disappear again...to Dad’s,” you said, a slight waver in your voice at the thought of him disappearing. You didn’t want to go again. He was your safety blanket, your stability, the thing you were clinging to right now to get you through this, to get you to take the necessary steps to freedom, what was making you feel safe right now. You didn’t want him to disappear, you weren’t ready for him to disappear, especially with that lingering fear that it might be for years again, that you wouldn’t see him for so long--

“I’m not going anywhere until I know you’re safe,” he said bluntly, holding your gaze to make sure you understood he meant it.

Though you didn’t know how he was going to stop the universe throwing him back into his world, you didn’t question him. Instead, you stepped closer, put your arms around him, buried your face in his chest, and started to silently cry, seeking his comfort once more.

He put his arms around you tenderly, holding you securely against him until the greyhound bus appeared at the end of the street to take both of you far, far away from this place.

Next Chapter---->

Levi Tags: @clary-quinn @humanitys-hottestsoldier @whalerus @sunny-flo @thirstyforsometea @hauntedhousecat @peaches-and-clouds @queenofcurse

Through the Looking Glass Tags: @artist-bby @kaz2y5-pie @tartheyes @super-peace-fangirl @huntersbunker @nefelimalfoy @soft-levi-girl-blog @honeygivemeachainsaw @regalillegal @sugas-daddy7 @cathyannecookie @chaoticshepardplaid @roayaloveslife @sanrioclit @wvnderfvllyalvne @sparkling-gayyyy @do-not-feed-sugar

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youvebeenlivingfictional · 4 years ago

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I’m Always Curious Part Twenty Eight

Previous Part | Next Part | Masterlist Notes: I hope everyone’s having a good week 💕

Sooo….. How are we doing…………….

Warnings: ....Less angst than last week? I think? I mean by my gauge anyway y’all might disagree

Also cursing and mentions of canon-typical violence Summary: “I don’t want to sound insensitive or glib, Kat, but this better be fucking good.”

Can we talk? I had taken my time in answering Una’s message.

Maybe it was a little petty of me, but it was the first time she’d reached out to me in months, and I was tired. Despite the fact that the armistice between the Federation and the Klingons was in effect ahead of the Peace Accord in Paris, my work had yet to be completed. I’d been selected and summoned back to the Academy by Starfleet High Command to work closely with a number of other Comms specialists and the Klingons to draw up a treaty that would be beneficial to both sides, and would help to ensure that the armistice held. Are you going to hang up again? Was my answer, finally. Her response stunned me - but then, Una typically found a way to catch me off-guard. It would be difficult for me to hang up on you in person.

-- I had this inexplicable urge to hug her, if only to ensure that we were both there, both real and solid, but I knew that Una was not a hugger. Instead I nodded to her as she slid into the booth seat across from mine. I’d taken up brief residence in one of the vacated mess hall spaces in the Academy while I’d waited for her. “How much time have you got?” She asked. “About an hour. It’s technically lunch break.” “We can get something to eat.” “I’m not hungry.” “...How are you?” She asked after a moment. “I’m not sure you deserve that answer.” I didn’t mean to snap, but— seeing Una in person, seemingly unchanged after what I had gone through - after Somonia, after the war, and after she had been so harsh to me, I was not in a mood to be warm and cuddly. Una nodded a little, unflinching. “I do deserve that,” She conceded, “I was...Processing. I should not have said that to you, it was a blatant disregard for your feelings. I’m sorry.” “...Well,” I bristled a little, “Thank you for that.” I glanced out of the window for a moment, gathering myself before asking, “So, why are you on Earth?” “There was a hitch in installing the new Holographic Communications System, it had to be brought in to space dock.” “Crew’s in one piece?” “Yes.” “Are you the only one down here?” “...Yes.” I lowered my gaze to my hands again. “Why did you want to meet with me?” I asked. Una stood and walked around to my side of the booth, sliding in to sit beside me. I didn’t turn to look at her, and she didn’t push for me to. “When...Spock told me that you were alive,” She said softly, “When he brought the timeline to me, the evidence… There was some little part of me that almost hoped he’d made it all up-- Not because I wanted you to be gone,” She hurried to explain, “But because I… Could not fathom the fact that we had left you behind. And seeing your medical file, reading the briefing that you gave Command-- the hell that you went through. If we’d turned back when Cornwell contacted us--” “You couldn’t have known--” “That shouldn’t have stopped us,” Una insisted, “We should’ve gone back, should’ve...Made sure.” I glanced over at Una to find her staring ahead of us, shoulders and jaw tight. “It was hard, watching the crew learn that you were gone. You were missed, you were needed, but seeing the news spread that you were alive, that you’d been drafted into service for the war so soon after you were found— And that we were constantly being told to stay out of the war on top of it … I was angry. I focused that anger in the wrong place when we spoke,” She admitted, turning to meet my eye, “I have regretted that every single day.” I felt tears prickling at my eyes and I lowered my eyes to the gold fabric of her uniform, clenching my jaw. “I’m not apologizing for not telling you,” I shook my head, "I’m sure Cornwell was monitoring my communications, and I don’t know what the repercussions would’ve been-- for either party.” “Considering the Admiral’s tendency to run a tight ship, as it were, I understand. I think you did the right thing...Commander,” Una tipped her head forward as she addressed me by my new rank. I rolled my eyes a little, a small smile creeping onto my face. It had been a battlefield promotion for the sake of my ability to command a small vessel during the Battle of Xisad, one of the last battles fought during the war. Cornwell had promoted me herself. “You know I had to take the Bridge Officer’s test when I got back?” I told Una, slouching down in my seat a little bit, “Just to make it official. They told me that if I didn’t, my rank would revert. I almost let it go.” “Why didn’t you?” “Durling.” “Eli Durling?” I nodded, humming, “Bastard goaded me, said I wouldn’t pass first try, so it wasn’t worth bothering.”

Una smiled. “Stubborn as stone,” She shook her head. “Don’t start,” I began to laugh, and it soon overtook the two of us. As it settled, I gathered my courage to ask the question that had been sitting on the tip of my tongue since Una had told me she was the only one on Earth. “Where is he?” “He’s on Starbase five at the moment. Visiting someone.” “Is he alright?” “Yes.” “And he...He knows?” Una frowned, nodding a little. “Of course he knows,” She confirmed, “You haven’t spoken to him?” “No. He hasn’t reached out and I...I didn’t, I wasn’t sure,” I admitted. I suddenly felt jittery-- sharp, and sensitive. It was like I’d taken a gulp of the worst kind of Koutovian tea. “So--” I cleared my throat, “When do you leave?” “In a few hours, most likely. Starfleet’s set us another mission. Do you know where you’ll be stationed next?” “No. I don’t know how long we’ll be working on the treaty and Command doesn’t want to set me to another post prematurely.” “I understand.” I could see the disappointment in Una’s eyes, but rather than say anything, she just tipped her chin up a little bit. “Do you think you’ll leave Communications for Helm now?” She prodded, and I snorted. We both knew the answer to that.

-- Tilly and I nearly knocked one another over with the force of our embrace. I squeezed her as tight as I could, grinning from ear to ear, wholly uncaring that the transporter room crew and the Cornwell were nearby. “I have to check on where you’re staying, but um-- I’ll come and find you and show you and-- excuse me, Admiral,” Tilly ducked around Cornwell before hurting out of the transporter bay.

The Admiral arched a brow at the sight of me before gesturing for me to follow her. I fell into step beside her, glancing around. The Discovery hadn’t changed since my last stint on it, of course, but it was surreal to be back on the ship that I thought had been destroyed. But as nice as it was to be on a starship with no threat of war, I was not in the best mood. Treaty completed, peace talks aside, Peace Accord signed, I had been afforded leave. Shortly after that leave had been granted, I'd received a message from Admiral Cornwell.

“I don’t want to sound insensitive or glib, Kat, but this better be fucking good.” “You’re not in uniform.” “No. I’m not, because technically, officially, I am not here,” I reminded Cornwell as I cast her a sidelong glance, “Were those not your exact words?” “They were.” “Well, then if I am still technically, officially on leave,” I gestured to my civvies, “Then why would I be in uniform?” “You’re in a fine mood.” “Do I need to remind you what happened the last time you pulled me off of leave for an assignment?” I retorted. “The Discovery has been tasked with chasing down signals that have appeared in varying points throughout the galaxy.” I frowned. “I thought that the Enterprise had been tasked with that directive.” “It had, but it experienced catastrophic system-wide failures. The Discovery took over the mission.” “And I’m here because…?” “There is a colony on the way to the next point that’s in need of monitoring. Starfleet is not interfering, but we’re keeping an eye on them. We need you--” “A Tag and Run?” I asked, stunned, “You’ve really pulled me off of leave for a Tag and Run? Why not pull Durling?” “I have. He’ll be here in a few hours to oversee the op. I’ve business to attend to elsewhere.” “Of course you do.” “Commander, I may’ve tolerated a certain amount of this disposition in the midst of the war, but please trust that I have no such patience for it right now.” I fought the urge to snap back and roll my eyes. “I thought that Tag and Runs were only sanctioned outside of the war in the most extreme cases.” “Trust when I tell you that this is extreme, and sanctioned by Starfleet.” Cornwell stopped at the turbolift, turning to face me. “There’s something else that I ought to make you aware of.” “Oh, there’s more?” “I need you to keep your head.” I looked over her face, at the slight grimace on her lips, and that sharp, jittery feeling bubbled back up in my stomach. “...Kat, what--” “Admiral, a question.” I couldn’t help it. I couldn’t help but turn at the sound of his voice-- my body was moving before I even fully registered it, half turned from Cornwell, half turned toward Pike. It almost didn’t register, at first, that it really was him. I hadn’t seen him anywhere but my mind’s eye, my dreams, for the longest time. He looked… Well. Almost just as I remembered. There were maybe a few more streaks of grey around his temples, but I didn’t get a good enough look. My brain finally caught up with my body, took in his bewildered expression - the narrowed eyes, his parted lips, the scrunch of his brow - and I turned my head away, eyes set on the turbolift panel. “...You couldn’t have mentioned this before I beamed aboard?” I asked Cornwell quietly. “I wasn’t sure if another ship would be in range. False hope would’ve been cruel,” Cornwell's voice was no louder than mine, her eyes set on the Captain. I turned my head a little as the turbolift doors opened and Tilly stepped out. “Oh! Wow, just who I was looking for--” She glanced between the three of us, taking in the tense silence, “I...Am sorry to interrupt, but, um, your lodgings are ready, Commander.” “Thank you,” I mumbled. “Commander?” Pike’s repetition was hushed, almost awed. I turned my head toward him a little, unable to meet his eye. He’d missed so much-- and what the hell had I missed? “If you’ll excuse me,” I answered tightly, stepping onto the turbolift with Tilly. “See if you can find a uniform,” Cornwell watched me, “And try to give Durling less lip.” “No guarantees,” I retorted before the doors slid shut. --

“That seemed… Tense. Like cage-fight-with-a-Mugato-tense,” Tilly commented over the hum of the turbolift. She was right - it felt it, too. I couldn’t get that look Pike had given me out of my mind. It was buzzing through me; it was a stone in my stomach; it was behind my eyelids when I blinked. “Speaking from experience?” I tried to tease as we stepped off. “Ah-ha,” Tilly shook her head, “No.” I gave her a small shrug, following her down the hall, “Pike used to be Captain of the Enterprise.” “Right.” “And I haven’t seen him since…” “Since he thought you were dead,” It dawned on Tilly, “Oh… Oh that’s worse than a Mugato.” “It’s like two Mugatos.” “Well, here we go,” She stepped aside to let me in, “You’re gonna have a roomie, but it won’t be me.” “Who’s it going to be?” I asked as I stepped inside. “Well, it’ll be me, and if you don’t like that, you can sleep in the frickin’ cargo hold.” I froze again at the sound of that dry, almost raspy voice. “Jett?” I asked, stunned. “Is that a yes or a no to the cargo hold?” She added, standing from her bed, “I mean you don’t actually have a choice, but it only seems polite to ask.” I flexed my hands before I asked, “Can I-- Are you-- Can I hug you?” “Once,” Jett conceded, “But make it a quick one.” I didn’t approach her too fast, didn’t hug her too tightly, just patted her shoulder twice and took a step back. “What, um…” I asked lightly, throat growing tight, “What happened?” “It’s a long story-- And you haven’t even heard it yet,” Jett frowned, watching me step back to what would be my temporary bed and lower myself down onto it, putting my head in my hands. “Hey,” Tilly sat down beside me, resting a hand on my shoulder and rubbing it, “What is it?” I couldn’t answer. I just shook my head a little as I took deep breaths, trying to slow my pounding heart, trying to steady my breathing. “Are you mouthing ‘pie’? I should get her a snack?” I heard Jett ask Tilly-- which made me laugh through the few tears that were leaking from my eyes. “Pike,” I mumbled, “She’s mouthing Pike.” I could understand why the two were trying to be careful with me. I surely seemed panicked by what should’ve been amazing news. And it was amazing. I was overjoyed, relieved that Jett was alright, but-- between the mission, Tilly, Pike, and Jett, I was overwhelmed. And Pike had looked right at me -- Right at me. He’d seemed so startled, like I was a figure that had stepped out of a dream-- or a nightmare: unknowable, unplaceable, but strangely familiar and to be dissected. Maybe that was one small consolation. While Cornwell hadn’t warned me, she'd been remiss in warning him, too.

I tipped my chin up from my hands, looking between Jett and Tilly and giving them a weak, watery smile. “I won’t lie, though, pie sounds amazing right now.” "Sure! We can do that,” Tilly said quickly, more than happy to put a baked band-aid over this hurt, “Jett, you coming?” Reno shrugged, “I could eat.”

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