#I regret to inform you that I got lazy finishing the bottom two :(

[aro-tistic-art]

More of the lovely mysterious woman, Lilith 💚💜(ft. Charlie!)

W/ & w/o references

[loki-hargreeves]

Kylo Ren x Reader - You’re Kidnapped [PART 2]

[PART 1]

Warnings: mentions of death and torture, PTSD symptoms, angst, mentions of blood, just a tad of fluff, Fighting (Kylo and Hux), getting turned on by violence, SMUT [18+] Oral sex f!receiving Word Count: 4,8K Summary: Returning to your normal life after being kidnapped isn’t easy. Work is taking a toll on you, and Hux seems to make it worse. Kylo returns your wedding ring to you and finally, you’re ready for closure. He lets you see what he did to the man who tortured you. Eventually, he takes your mind off things in the most pleasurable way… Author’s Note: If you don’t like domestic Kylo, you probably won’t like this. But if you do, you’re in for a treat! Don’t worry, you’ll have Kylo’s rage as well ;) Please enjoy Xx

THIRD POV

Shock pulses ripped through her body, spreading ache through her muscles like needles until she couldn’t even breathe. Every time they came to an end, she would lose her strength and cry, giving Garr Caine the sick and twisted satisfaction that he wanted. Humiliation washed upon her entire body. She didn’t want him to see her like that, she was stronger that this! But every time he put her through immense torture, she failed herself.

“You’re mine now. Your husband is dead!” Garr’s voice echoed in her mind over and over again. Despite the fact that she knew he was a liar; she somehow believed the sick bastard. Tears streamed down her face as she let the news sink in.

“No…no, you’re lying!” Y/N sobbed. She wanted to get up, to attack Garr, but her body was strapped down. The more she tried to move her limbs, the more panicked she felt. She was trapped and she needed to get free, now! “Let me go!”

“Y/N!” Another voice joined them. It sounded so familiar, yet it was so distant. She looked up, only to face total darkness. Who was it?

Then she heard it again, “Y/N! Wake up,” it was Kylo’s voice.

All of a sudden, Y/N opened her eyes and saw Kylo’s beautiful, scarred face hovering above hers. Her limbs were free, and she didn’t feel the pain that was just there. She was alright, safe beside the man she loved. It had been another nightmare. Only a nightmare, among the many others she had seen recently. Even after Kylo had killed the man who had kidnapped her, Y/N still felt watched and she was constantly on edge. If it wasn’t for Kylo, she wasn’t sure what she would do.

Silently, she snuggled closer to Kylo’s warm frame, hiding her worried expression against his chest. She didn’t want him to see her like that, so weak and afraid like a child. He had showered before joining her in bed, which she could tell by the scent of his cologne and the soaps he used. Even his hair was still damp when she touched it. Breathing in his scent, she managed to calm down. It helped as Kylo ran his long fingers up and down her exposed back, tracing over her scars on her soft skin. She could sense that Kylo was angry, despite how calm he seemed in the moment. Kylo was angry at Garr Caine for wrecking his wife, tearing her to shreds and leaving her scared and vulnerable. He was angry at himself for letting this happen. If he had kept an eye on Y/N, none of this would’ve ever happened to them.

After a little while, Y/N dared to break the silence that had surrounded the two of them, “I’m sorry for waking you up.”

“I was never asleep,” Kylo let her know. He spoke the truth. He hadn’t been able to sleep at all that night. He had once again gotten lost in his thoughts, getting a break as he sensed how distressed Y/N was in her slumber. Kylo had gently touched her face and seen glimpses of her nightmare. He didn’t want to admit it, but when he saw she was back in that torture chamber, his heart sank to his stomach. It’s like she never truly left that place.

Y/N didn’t know why Kylo hadn’t slept, but she didn’t question it. Instead, she took a deep breath and exposed her face from the safety of Kylo’s chest, looking up to meet his dark brown eyes. Her heart swelled in her chest as she looked at him. She loved him so much it almost hurt. “I don’t know why he still taunts me…” Y/N admitted quietly. She was ashamed of herself. Before all this, she was strong and confident. She had a sharp tongue and she could even make General Hux shut his mouth if needed. Now she could hardly walk out of their shared quarters without feeling paranoid.

“He can’t hurt you. I took care of that,” Kylo reminded her. He had certainly made the disgusting man regret ever touching Y/N. Kylo was used to killing his enemies swiftly, but that couldn’t be said about Garr. He had a slow, torturous death that most people wouldn’t wish upon their worst enemies.

Kylo brushed Y/N’s hair off her face, his fingers lingering on the delicate skin on her neck. He wanted to kiss her and take her mind off her past, but for the first time in their long relationship, he was unsure of what to do. Kylo wasn’t quite in touch with his emotions. If it wasn’t for his abilities to sense what others were feeling, he wouldn’t be so sure what to do in situations like these. He didn’t want to scare her away. After all, Y/N was all he had, all he truly cared about.

Y/N could tell that Kylo was holding himself back. She put her hand above his and leaned against his touch. That’s when Kylo intertwined their fingers and he pressed a gentle kiss on the spot where her wedding ring used to be. He made a mental note to find it. It was special and it was a disgrace that Garr had torn it off her finger. Kylo had broken the man’s fingers while keeping that in mind.

Wishing to escape her mind, Y/N leaned towards her husband and kissed his soft lips. It was more than enough for Kylo to kiss her back and touch her body in a way only he knew how to. For that night, they could escape everything else by getting lost in each other.

                              The next day Y/N tried to brush her thoughts way and focus on her work. Despite having Kylo’s permission to rest and stay in their quarters all day if needed, she got up and found herself by her station. Everyone in the order knew about what happened to her. When she walked past her fellow commanders and generals, she could feel how differently they looked at her and she didn’t like it. They were careful around her and she felt like a child among them. That’s why she was so determined to prove them all wrong, that she was still who she was before. 

Garr Caine hadn’t changed her. She wouldn’t give her tormentor that much credit.

They were working on locating Resistance bases, as per usual. Y/N was exploring the galaxy virtually, her eyes glued to the hologram in front of her. She was so focused on her work that she hadn’t noticed Hux who was right beside her now. When the General cleared his throat, Y/N flinched and stepped back. She almost went in to attack Hux, but she stopped herself from making a fool of herself just in time. Clearly, Hux noticed how strangely she behaved, but he didn’t mention it.

“Do you have the reports ready?” Hux wondered. It hadn’t even crossed Y/N’s mind. She was supposed to file reports about the recent mission and deliver them to the other generals. Y/N couldn’t believe she had forgotten about it! Hux would be pissed at her and she really wasn’t in the mood to hear his lecture.

“Uh, they’re not quite ready yet, General. I’ll have them finished by the end of the day, I swear,” She assured him although she wasn’t quite sure she was able to do that. If she gave up on her breaks, she could possibly get her job done in time, but it would go on the last minute.

It was clear that Hux was disappointed and annoyed even, but he bit his tongue for a moment. He knew that getting angry at her wouldn’t help, but he really needed those reports. “You better have them by my station in three hours. We can’t wait around forever, Y/N,” Hux gave her a limit. Three hours was way too little, and Y/N knew that. 

Her heart sunk to the bottom of her stomach and she felt ill, but she just stood there and nodded, afraid to bring conflict by asking for more time. She felt terrible enough for doing a poor job. “O-of course.”

Hux narrowed his eyes and quickly glanced at Y/N’s body, reading her body language. Her shoulders were tense, and she held onto her waist, almost as she was shielding herself from him. It didn’t take a genius to see that she was anxious. She behaved like a caged bird nowadays, aching to be free. Without saying another word, Hux walked away. He figured that Kylo Ren would come after him if he said another word to his wife. Honestly, Hux wasn’t in the mood to face the dark-haired man at all. It always stressed him out.

Y/N was relieved as Hux walked away, but her relief didn’t last long. Knowing that there was no way she could do her job in time made her feel lazy and useless. Everyone would be mad at her and they would blame it on Garr.

Hoping that there was a miraculous way to get the reports done, she went right to it. Her heart was pounding in her chest as she began to work on it, reading the case files and adding the vital information to the reports. Only after a few minutes, the text blurred before her eyes. She squinted them and tried to focus, but it felt like an impossible task.

Come on, focus! She thought by herself and clenched her jaw. After several failed attempts at regaining her focus, it became too much for her. She dropped everything she was holding and rushed away from her station. Everyone else around her glanced at Y/N as she stormed off. Even though she didn’t make a sound, it seemed like everyone knew something was wrong, but no one followed her. No one bothered to stop her and ask if she was okay.

It wasn’t until she reached the nearest bathroom that she stopped. Y/N shut the door a little too loudly, locked it and leaned against the cold, metal counter. Her eyes scanned her reflection and she hated what she saw. It had been so long since she had looked in the mirror and reckognized herself. Now a broken woman stared back at her. It sickened her and made her blood boil with rage. As it all built up, it got too much for her. She couldn’t stand the sight of herself with tears on her face. She squeezed her fingers into a fist and punched the mirror, trying to let go of some of her rage and pain with the harsh blow.

The mirror shattered and some pieces fell into the sink. At first, Y/N didn’t feel anything at all. She stared at the mess she made and then saw blood dripping onto the pieces of the mirror. Her hands were trembling as the shards sunk into her skin.

“Fuck!” Y/N cursed as she realized how unnecessary that was. Although it felt good to break it, she was now responsible for a broken mirror and she had glass in her fingers which began to hurt. Now she definitely couldn’t get her job done in time. Medical droids would have to pull out the tiny shards so she wouldn’t risk getting an infection.

                       It had been a long day for both Kylo and Y/N. Kylo had been on an outside mission, secretly returning to the place he had found Y/N from. As Kylo finally returned, he was met by an irritated General Hux. Kylo sighed as the man approached him. He really wasn’t in the mood to deal with Hux right now.

“Ren, your wife left her station early. Do you realize what her delay costs us?” Hux snapped at Kylo, as if he had any power over him.

Kylo felt anger set a flame within him as he faced Hux. Who did he think he was? “You could assign the work to someone else. There are hundreds of people to choose from!” Kylo defended Y/N while stating the obvious. He knew Y/N had been assigned with some unimportant things which were easily transferred to anyone else’s stations. Hux didn’t like them so naturally, he would make a fuss about it.

By now, some nearby Stormtroopers eavesdropped on the two of them and avoided getting too close.

“Get a grip of your wife, Ren,” Hux spat with such disrespect, it was a miracle Kylo didn’t send his body across the loading deck.

By using the force, Kylo brought Hux’s neck right into his hand and he squeezed the air out of the man’s lungs. It wasn’t the first time, but this time Hux seemed genuinely startled by Kylo’s rage. As if he hadn’t taunted him to do this. “Do not ever talk about Y/N like that ever again. I won’t hesitate to kill you if you get on my nerves, general.”

Hux’s eyes were wide and he looked at Kylo, silently pleading for him to let him go. Kylo was more than tempted to squeeze harder, to feel his neck break in his touch, but he knew that unfortunately Hux was far too valuable to be killed like this. So he let go right before his face could turn blue. 

Hux scattered a few feet away from Kylo as he caught his breath. His fear was all gone, just like that and he put on a tough face. Without saying another word, Kylo watched as the ginger man got out of his sight. His anger was bubbling in his veins, but Kylo tried to calm down. He knew he’d feel much better the moment he saw Y/N. His anger was replaced by worry as he wondered why she left her station in the first place. 

Once Kylo returned to their quarters, he expected to find Y/N asleep in their bed already. As he walked into an empty room, he was surprised. “Y/N?” He called out her name, sensing her presence near. He didn’t worry about her being gone, but he was curious as to why she was still awake.

“I’m here!” She replied to him from the bathroom. Kylo followed her sweet voice immediately, already taking off his heavy clothes, leaving them on a chair before he entered the bathroom, now only in his pants. He found Y/N in the bathtub, sitting in the corner of it. She didn’t look up to face him, which was unusual. He could tell that something was wrong. Before he could ask, Kylo noticed that she had bandage around her fingers.

“What happened?” Kylo wanted to know why his wife was hurt. He knelt on the tile floor beside the tub and touched her shoulder, noticing that the water was cold. She must’ve been in there for a long time. Had someone hurt her?

Y/N bit her lips together as her expression morphed from an empty gaze to something full of sorrow. As she turned to face Kylo, she almost let go of her tears. How could she tell him that she was unhappy? That she didn’t even know who she was anymore? After everything that Kylo had done for her, she felt rotten for still feeling this way. “I broke a mirror,” She revealed. “Also I pissed off everyone. I forgot to turn in the reports in time and now another mission is delayed. Hux wasn’t too happy about that.”

Kylo knew what it was like to let out rage by destroying things, but he had never seen her do that before. Hux was a pain the in the ass. Kylo was angry that Hux put so much pressure on her now. It almost felt like he was doing it on purpose. After all, it wasn’t a big secret that Hux didn’t like Kylo Ren too much, nor his wife. Kylo wished he had done more damage to Hux, but he had time to do deal with the man later.

He sighed and decided to join her in the bath. Kylo stayed silent as he let the cold water go down the drain as he replaced it with fresh, clean and warm water. As the tub slowly filled up again, he rid himself of the rest of his clothes as he finally got in the tub with her. He had something in his hand that he wanted to show her.

Gently, Kylo grabbed her hand and opened his palm, revealing the ring that had been lost. Y/N’s eyes widened in shock as she saw it. When Garr had thrown it away, Y/N was scared she would never see it again. Kylo slipped it back on her finger, where it belonged. The sweet gesture reminded her of the day he proposed to her. Everything about it was so sweet, so affectionate - at least to Kylo’s standards. Somehow, it was the last push she needed to let her tears slip which she hated more than anything. She was sick of crying.

“How did you...how did you find it?” She wondered, her voice barely above a whisper.

Kylo looked at her finger which now had the ring around it again, just like how it was supposed to be. “I went searching for it and I found out,” He explained casually, as if he hadn’t travelled through space in the speed of light to find it. What he didn’t expect was that it would make her cry. He cared about her, but Kylo wasn’t the best when it came to dealing with emotions. He never knew what to say, but somehow it seemed to be enough when he held her. Every time, he would be fueled with rage towards the people who caused her to feel this way.

“Kylo?” Y/N said his name quietly. He faced her and she continued, “Can you…can you show me what you did to him?” Y/N wondered almost nervously. When Garr was still alive in a holding cell, she hadn’t been able to walk in and see the torture Kylo had put him through. But now she felt as she was ready, and she knew Kylo could make her see by simply touching her.

Kylo was surprised to hear her request, but he was more than happy to show her. He imagined that the sight would satisfy her, perhaps even give her closure. He knew she was serious, otherwise she wouldn’t have asked, so he didn’t ask her to repeat herself. “Alright,” He let out a breath, seeing the relief on her face. She snuggled closer to him, resting her head on his shoulder as Kylo gently put his hand on her head. Just like that, he closed his eyes and thought back to the moment he found himself in the holding cell with Garr Caine strapped down right in front of him. He channeled his memories to Y/N so she could see it all through Kylo’s eyes. For a moment, they weren’t in the tub anymore. They were in that holding cell.

Kylo showed her how he had hurt the man, made him shriek in pain and cry how sorry he was. She saw how brutal Kylo had been and as sick and twisted as it was, it made her feel better. To see that sick fuck in pain was exactly what she needed. Revenge was definitely right when it came to him. She didn’t look away, instead she took in every little detail that she could. Y/N heard Kylo’s voice, full of anger. It was so deep, so raspy, so loud. Kylo had definitely let his emotions control him as he tortured the torturer. 

It wasn’t a sight for sore eyes.

Eventually, Kylo showed her Garr’s death. The pathetic excuse of a man died by Kylo’s hand and he could never get up to hurt Y/N, or anyone else, ever again. He was gone. Now Y/N had seen it and it was verified in her mind that Garr was gone, dead.

The next time they opened their eyes, they were back in the bathroom, in the warm water of the bathtub, bodies close to each other. It felt like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. She felt happy that Kylo had done that. Perhaps the sight would’ve made someone else sick, it definitely made Y/N relieved and almost happy, in a twisted way. She felt like she had gotten her revenge and it made her love Kylo even more than she thought possible.

Y/N wiped her tears away and then cupped Kylo’s face, her thumb laying above his scar. Their eyes met and she felt like she fell for him all over again. “Thank you,” She thanked him as she was genuinely appreciative of him, the ring and for ending Garr’s life. To show her gratitude and to seek pleasure that only he could give her, she closed the distance between them by kissing him. No matter how many times she kissed Kylo, she couldn’t get bored of it. His lips could take her mind on a journey, far away from reality.

As if there was an invisible force between them, pulling them closer to each other, Y/N moved her leg over his and she sat on his lap. Kylo instinctively put his big hands on her lower back to keep her closer to him. Their kiss deepened as Kylo pushed his tongue past her lips, wanting to taste her better and deeper. Y/N moaned into the kiss, enjoying how Kylo took control of her. As they parted the kiss, their eyes met, and Y/N felt a little better because now she had something else to think about than her shitty day. By that kiss alone, a fire erupted in her stomach and only Kylo could put it out. She wanted him and it became clear that Kylo wanted her as well.

“I wish I had been here when Hux lectured you. I would’ve gladly given him a piece of my mind,” Kylo admitted truthfully, which made Y/N smile a little bit.

“He’s a pain in the ass,” She rolled her eyes.

Kylo ran his hand down her back and he gave her bottom cheek a little squeeze, “I won’t argue with you on that.” He used his other hand to pull her body closer to his so he could attack her neck with kisses. He felt how goosebumps rose on her soft skin the moment his lips made contact with her sweet spot, causing her to moan lightly which echoed slightly in the bathroom.

“You certainly know how to make a girl feel better,” Y/N joked as Kylo made out with her sensitive skin, his teeth sinking into her just a little bit, surely leaving a mark that would remind everyone who dared disrespect her that they messed with him too. 

He knew that they had to get out of that bathtub. Carefully, Kylo grabbed her body and got up, never letting go of her. He was strong and by using the force, he ensured he wouldn’t slip and fall. Y/N wrapped her limbs around his body and let him carry her out of the bathroom and into their bed. Kylo dropped her on the soft mattress, not caring at all that the water from the bathtub was now sinking into the sheets. As she lay on the bed, he crawled on top of her and returned his hungry lips on hers, getting lost in yet another passionate kiss that left them both breathless.

Kylo wanted to wash away every trace of Garr Caine. He wanted to touch all over her and replace her pain with pleasure. He was going to do so too. His rage mixed with love with became clear whenever they got lost in bliss. Most of all, Kylo wanted his wife to be happy. She was his, no one else’s to control. He refused to let Garr’s torture ruin the rest of her life. No one messed with what was Kylo Ren’s.

Y/N’s fingers tangled in his wet hair, tugging lightly as Kylo attacked her body with kisses. He pressed his lips on her neck and went down, tracing the skin over her collarbones, her shoulders and eventually her soft breasts. “You have to stop breaking mirrors with your fists,” Kylo told her and looked up to see that she was looking down at him. “Use a tool to break stuff with instead,” He recommended, not giving a damn about the cost of broken objects- as if he hadn’t destroyed numerous rooms and irreplaceable objects already.

Somehow, what he said made her chuckle, “Only you would give such advice!” He hadn’t heard her laughter in a long time, so it was like music to his ears. He felt so feral when he satisfied her. It was almost animalistic; he wanted to take care of her. Like an alpha would take care of their omega.

Kylo cupped her perked chest with his hands and grinded his body closer to her, feeling how wet she was already. She arched her back as Kylo began to massage her tits, teasing her further. He knew exactly how to get her ready for him. He pinched her nipples and then licked a stripe up her chest, leaving open mouth kisses on her breasts.

“Kylo…” His name left her mouth in a low hum.

He sank lower on her body, peppering sloppy kisses on her stomach, her hips and eventually her inner thighs as his hands still worked on her sensitive breasts. “Look at you, you’re dripping, and I’ve barely touched you.”

“I can’t help it when I’m around you,” She admitted shamelessly, hoping to feel Kylo’s skilled tongue on her body where she needed him the most.

“If I had known that you’d get this turned on by seeing me hurting people, I would’ve gladly shown you these things much earlier,” Kylo told her, half-jokingly. He could smell how aroused she was, and the heat was radiating from her onto his skin. Teasingly, he kissed the skin so close to her wetness, but not close enough.

She bucked her hips in an attempt to get closer to him, but to no avail. “I have to admit, it’s kind of hot,” Y/N told her husband which was followed by a whine. Kylo was a big tease sometimes and it drove her wild. Finally, he licked up her slit, gathering her wetness on his longue tongue until he finally reached her throbbing clit. Y/N let out a loud moan as Kylo began to flicker his tongue over her clit, which felt heavenly. Her entire body felt warm and her breaths got heavier as her husband attacked her sex with pleasure. She could never get tired of the way he ate her pussy like it was his last meal, always making sure she came. Her hands tangled in his dark locks and she grinded her hips up against his face.

Kylo brought two of his fingers to her dripping wet entrance, pushing them inside her warm walls. He earned another moan from her, which he loved to hear. As his mouth closed around her needy pearl, he began to rub his fingers inside her walls, massaging her cunt in the best possible way. Surely, he took her mind off her terrible day.

“Fuck! Kylo, I’m close!” Y/N whimpered heavily, barely being able to focus on looking at the man between her legs. It was far too tempting to let her eyes roll to the back of her head, but the sight of Kylo going down on her was far too hot to look away from.

Her words made him work harder, pumping his slick fingers in and out of her hole faster as he tugged on her clit much harsher, making her body squirm underneath his touch. Before, Kylo would’ve used the force to keep her from moving, but he was afraid that restricting her movement would take her mind back to what he tried to make her forget. So, he used his other hand to press down her hips, keeping her still without fully trapping her.

He felt how her walls throbbed and tightened around his fingers. As they slipped in and out of her, he could hear how wet she was. Knowing that she was this aroused because of him drove his mind wild and his cock felt painfully hard. He couldn’t wait to sink into her soft walls and rock her through the night just right.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck…I’m gonna come! Kylo!” Y/N cried in pure pleasure. She held her breath as her orgasm approached her, ripping through her body powerfully, leaving her feeling like a puddle on the bed. She closed her eyes and then moaned as she was swallowed whole by euphoria. Kylo didn’t stop, no. He helped her ride through her orgasm by rubbing his fingers inside her walls and lapping his tongue over her clit, tasting the evidence of his work.

It didn’t take long until it became too much for her. She was panting and her body squirmed against her will as Kylo’s stream of pleasure never ended. “I can’t…” Y/N whispered weakly, trying to pull him away even though she absolutely adored the pleasure he brought her.

Kylo wasn’t going to tease her much longer. He pulled his fingers out of her and climbed up her body, being pulled into a kiss. Y/N could taste herself on his lips, but she didn’t care. It was a brief kiss as Kylo broke it off, replacing his lips with his slick fingers. Y/N closed her lips around them, looking right into his eyes as she sucked them clean.

“You’re such a good girl, but you’re so naughty,” Kylo growled at her, loving the sight before his eyes.

It was safe to say he had taken her mind off the wrong things.

Author’s Note: You asked for another part so here it is! I wanted the ring back, as someone commented. Then I tried to figure out a way to write how her life in the order changed after the kidnapping. Nothing too much, because this was originally meant to be a one-shot. I hope you liked it! :)

[marshmallowbee13]

Love Like Yours Fest 2020

Ch8: Free Style

A lot has happened the last year. After Ramona woke up, she found her magic gone. She tried to do even the most basic things, but no. It was gone for good. She began to work with plants, growing them for Asra to dry or work into potions. She had a lot of help from Muriel and Julian, who helped inform her which plants would be most beneficial to help people, where she could find them in the forest, and how to cultivate them to help them flourish.

When Ramona had fully regained her strength after curing the plague, she and Asra had gone and eloped, only telling their friends after they returned from the honeymoon with matching gold bands on their finger.

Upon their return to Vesuvia, they learned that Lucio had been replaced as Count, banished from Vesuvia and her surrounding territories. Nadia had taken up the role as leader and was favored by the people.

Another surprise was that Ramona's effects on the chains binding Lucio worked all the was back to their source. Whatever was being bound by those chains were now free, including a very familiar-looking couple.

It happened when Asra and Ramona had been at the shop, though they were closed. Asra was busy upstairs when there was a knock at the door. Ramona answered and found two people standing there.

"Hello, my name is Salim and this is my wife, Aisha. We heard this is where we could find Asra?" The man said. Ramona stood there with her mouth agape. Their resemblance to Asra was so uncanny, there was no mistaking who these people were.

"Yes, one moment." Ramona ran upstairs, a big grin on her face. She popped into the kitchen where Asra was making lunch.

"Hello, Lovely. Taste this and see if it's good?" Asra said.

"That'll have to wait." Ramona said. "There's someone here to see you."

"Who is it?"

"You'll see." Ramona pulled Asra away from the stove and down the stairs. Upon reaching the bottom if the stairs, Asra froze.

"Asra?" Aisha breathed.

"Mom? Dad? Is it really you?" Asra asked. Faust poked out of Asra's scarf and noticed the snakes wrapped around Aisha and Salim.

Snarents?

Asra stepped forward, then ran into his parents' arms. They hugged each other tight, all smiles and tears. Ramona found herself tearing up at the sight. Asra glanced at her and opened the hug to include her. She eagerly ran right in, not one to skip out on affection. They were warm and snuggly and everything she'd hoped parents were. They parted and Ramona remembered her manners.

"Oh! Please come in. We were just about to eat lunch. Would you like something to drink?" Ramona asked. They all moved up to the living area upstairs. Ramona started some tea, while Asra finished their lunch.

"So, Asra, are you going to introduce us to this lovely lady?" Aisha asked.

"Oh, right! Um... Ramona, these are my parents. Mom, Dad, this is Ramona. My... My wife." Asra introduced.

"Oh, my. We really have been gone a long time." Salim responded.

"Welcome to the family, Ramona." Aisha pulled Ramona into another hug. "You really must catch us up on everything we missed."

"Yes, how did you two meet?" Salim asked.

Asra and Ramona retold the tale of their meeting over their meal. Everything from meeting at his makeshift fortune telling booth, to eloping.

"I'm so sorry we couldn't have been there through any of it." Salim said, putting a hand on Asra's shoulder.

"Where were you?" Asra asked. "You left for work and... You just never came home. I waited and waited, but you never came back." Ramona stayed silent, simply reaching over and holding Asra's hand. Asra had never mentioned his parents, not even once. Considering he lived at the docks with the other orphans, she just assumed they were dead, so she never asked. Meeting them now, she's so glad she was wrong.

"We were working in the palace, creating the Count's prosthesis." Salim began. "He was upset about this and that, and eventually he just threw us in the dungeon."

"After a while, he had us sent to the Devil's realm, locked behind a door with fiery chains." Aisha added. "Though, just recently, out of nowhere the chains obliterated and we were free. We didn't hesitate to escape with our familiars and find our way to you."

"We had no way of knowing how much time had passed here." Salim explained. "You've grown so much. And you're quite the talented magician, from what we've heard." There was pride in Salim's voice. Asra smiled shyly.

"Not as talented as Ramona. She's the one who broke those chains across realms. She stopped the plague from ever returning." Asra replied. "Though, her magic hasn't quite been the same since that day."

Talk of magic evolved into magical mishaps that Asra got into as a child. Ramona absolutely lost it at the story of the Teapot Incident™. Aisha and Salim didn't miss the look of pure love in Asra's eyes as he watched Ramona cry-laugh in a fit of giggles. They regret not being in Asra's life, but they were happy that their child found love, especially in such a charming young lady.

After quite some time of catching up and getting to know the in-laws, Ramona offered to let them stay at the shop with them.

"No, no. As newlyweds, I'm sure you wouldn't want us hanging around. We can find a place of our own." Salim replied.

"But we promise to visit again, soon." Aisha added. They said their goodbyes and Asra and Ramona were left alone in the shop.

"How are you feeling?" Ramona asked.

"Still in shock, I think." Asra answered. "Part of me feels like their return is just some kind of dream."

"But it's not. This is real." Ramona replied. Asra smiled and kissed his wife.

"It's been so long... But I'm glad they're back. And I have you to thank for that, Mrs. Alnazar." Asra kissed her again. And again. And again...

...

It was a lazy afternoon, where Asra and Ramona spent the day simply cuddling in bed. Ramona hadn't been feeling well the past few days, so just to be safe, they decided to spend the day resting.

"Asra?"

"Hm?"

"Remember when you went to visit Muriel the other day?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"Well, while you were out, I went to see Julian about my illness."

"And?" Asra asked, leaning up on one elbow to get a better look at her. "What did he say?"

"Well..." Ramona played with a lock of her hair, avoiding eye contact. It made Asra nervous. "I haven't been feeling well because... I'm... Expecting." she finally looked over at Asra. She could practically see the wheels turning in his head, a light in his eyes when everything snapped into place.

"Expecting?" Asra asked.

"Yes."

"As in... A... Baby?"

"Yes."

"We're gonna be parents?" Ramona nodded. Asra teared up. He let out a laugh as tears streamed down his cheeks.

"Please don't cry, mi amor. That's gonna be my job." Ramona said, wiping his tears away.

"I'm sorry, it's just... I have a family. I spent so long alone and now... I finally have a family. You, then my parents, and now... a baby! I..." Asra was at a loss for words. So, he held Ramona close. He wrapped his arms around her and buried his face in her neck. She wrapped herself around him in turn, giving back as much love and attention as she was receiving.

A thought struck Asra and his eyes widened.

"What is it?" Ramona asked.

"We have to hide all the teapots." Ramona erupted into giggles. It was like music to Asra's ears.

⋆✴☽◯☾✴⋆

@lovelikeyoursfest

This was fun. I hope we have another event like this in the future! 💖

[hellimagines]

18 Months (Part Eight) -- Michael Langdon

Masterlist

Summary: You and Michael get into another fight, but it only succeeds in bringing the two of you closer.

Warnings: Angst, smut

Pairing: Michael Langdon x fem!reader

Word Count: 7,000+

A/N: THIS SHIT LONG YEET (lemme know what you think tho)

18 Months Masterlist

When you woke up the next morning, alone in the bed you had just been sharing with Michael, you knew something was off. You thought- no, you hoped, that what had happened between you and Michael last night wouldn’t be a one-time thing. You didn’t think you’d be waking up in a cold bed, with your skin on fire. But, it was whatever, right? There were a few moments of passion between the two of you, but that didn’t mean Michael felt the same way. It became very apparent to you that the kiss the two of you shared, was simply a stress-relief for Michael. So, with a clenched jaw and a heavy heart, you pulled yourself out of bed.

Dressed in your typical, black skinny jeans, tank top, and leather jacket, you exited the guest room. You were going to need as much armor as you had available in order to face Michael this morning. Rounding the corner and into the living room, you were startled to see Michael sat on the couch between two young girls from the night before. Madelyn was in the kitchen preparing breakfast, and there were a handful of others scattered around Michael. You didn’t miss the way one of the girls placed a delicate arm on Michael’s shoulder, or the way he flashed her that stupid, smug smile of his. But, it didn’t matter. Michael wasn’t yours, and you weren’t his (regardless of the purple bruise he had left on your neck last night). So, whatever he did, wasn’t your problem.

You walked into the kitchen, not saying a word to Madelyn, as you made yourself a cup of black coffee. You had yet to unclench your jaw since waking, and by the side-eye you were being given by Madelyn, you had no doubt that she was about to start asking questions.

“So-” yup, there it is, “-I guess you and Michael didn’t make-up last night?” She questioned, continuing to keep her focus on the French sticks in the pan.

“Guess not,” you shrugged, leaning your back against the counter and holding the burning cup in your hands. You knew, that drinking the hot beverage was more than likely going to make you sick because of how hot you already were, but you didn’t care. You’d rather be sick than tired at this point.

“Don’t be too hard on him-”

“Why, because he’s your ‘Lord’?”

“No. Because he’s your best friend and he loves you. And, you love him just as much. Don’t let a petty fight get between that,” she said, pausing her cooking to look over at you. “I see the way he looks at you, compared to the other girls. Don’t be so insecure.”

“I’m not insecure, I’ll have you know,” you snapped instantly, gaze hardening. “I know my worth, and I know where I stand beside Michael. So stay the fuck out of my goddamn personal business.” You slammed the cup you had been holding down onto the table, coffee instantly sloshing over the edge and onto your hand. You bit back a hiss of pain, instead, turning on your heel and storming out of the kitchen.

And straight into Michael’s chest. “What happened?” he asked instantly, grabbing at your hand even though you had made no indication that it had been injured.

“Don’t fucking worry about it. Move,” you growled, yanking your hand out of his grasp. You silently regretted it, missing the cold that had washed over your burning flesh, but you weren’t about to tell him that.

“What has gotten into you? You’ve been awake for what, five minutes? Calm down, fox,” Michael soothed, in an attempt to calm whatever rage had been sparked inside of you.

“Do I have to get it tattooed on my forehead? Don’t tell me what to do.” You shouldered past him with an angry hiss, storming your way back to the guest bedroom you had just left.

As you sat down on the bed, elbows digging into your knees and head cradled in your palms, you suddenly realized just how horrible you had just been. Ever since you opened your eyes you had felt… furious. It was at nobody in particular, not at first. But, you couldn’t fathom not having a reason to be angry, so you found some. Michael not waking up in the same bed as you; not as a big of an issue as you just made it out to be. Michael had business he needed to take care of, and you had no right to hold that against him. Even if you had just confessed your love to one another the previous night. Madelyn trying to help your friendship with Michael; she just wanted the best for her Lord and his companion. You had no right to get mad at her about that, either. Michael swooping in to cradle your burnt hand; the two of you have a bond- you should’ve known he’d feel your pain and uncalled-for rage. You had no right to yell at him for caring. You had no right to do any of the things you had done. You’d only been awake a few minutes and you were starting hell for no goddamn reason.

A knock at the door broke you from your train of thought, and you looked up to see Michael entering the room. “I’m not gonna ask again. What’s the matter?” He came and sat beside you, grabbing ahold of the side of your face to force you to look at him.

“I don’t know…” you whispered, looking at his eyes. “It’s just like the other day. But today, I feel angry.”

“Is it because of our kiss?” he asked, running a thumb over your cheekbone. Without your makeup on, Michael could see the blush that crossed your cheeks.

“Kind of, but not in a bad way, not really,” you mumbled, casting your gaze downwards, and pulling your bottom lip between your teeth. “I know it didn’t mean anything to you, so I-”

“What did you just say?” Michael snapped, his hold on your face becoming rough.

You looked up in shock, releasing your swollen lip from its torment. “I- wait, you actually wanted to kiss me?”

“You are such a dumbass,” Michael scoffed, shaking his head. “Of course I did, what kind of dumb question is that?”

“You weren’t here when I woke up… I thought you regretted it.”

“No, I don’t (Y/N). Madelyn informed me that some members of the Church came over, and I didn’t want them waking you. So, I left to go to the living room, that’s all. I’m in love with you, and I have been for months. You’re the only one I want by my side. You’re having a bad day, and I get it, and it’s okay- but don’t shut me out because of it,” Michael said, pulling your foreheads together.

“Okay, I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s gotten into me lately,” you apologized weakly, closing your eyes.

Michael removed his forehead from your own, but before you could open your eyes, he was kissing the top of your head. “Don’t worry about it, baby. This’ll pass,” he reassured, placing a finger under your chin. You opened your eyes, looking back into a sea of blue, before closing them again as Michael leaned down to kiss you.

“This is so stupid,” you grumbled to yourself.

You were outside of Madelyn’s house, leant against her red Corvette, while watching Michael bid his farewell’s. Madelyn, Michael, and yourself were about to leave to drive out to a tech company in Silicon Valley. According to the older woman, they’d be able to help Michael get Ms. Mead back. You were glad Michael was possibly going to get his mentor back, but you couldn’t help the uneasy feeling that had settled itself in your gut. You’d had this feeling ever since the night Madelyn had found out who Michael really was. You didn’t understand why it was there, but you knew it wasn’t going away anytime soon.

“We’ll be waiting for you, Lord Michael. Until you return home safely to us.” Hannah, the preacher for the Church of Satan, fell to her knees before Michael. She clutched onto his pant leg, looking up at him with adoration and want.

“We shall return in due time. But until then, I ask that you live your lives as you normally would,” Michael said, briefly looking over his shoulder to flash you a smirk.

“Are you sure you don’t want one of us to go with you? We can protect you, my Lord.” A man from the segregation spoke up, taking a confident step forward. “We wouldn’t know what to do with ourselves if we lost you.”

“Michael doesn’t need your protection. And if he did, I can do a well-enough job on my own,” you said loudly, catching the attention of everyone on the lawn. “We need to leave.” You gave Michael a raised eyebrow, causing him to quickly finish his goodbyes.

Michael walked back over to you as soon as he had finished, wrapping his arms around your waist. “We have got to sort out this jealous streak of yours,” he mumbled into your ear, before pulling away. Before you could defend yourself and tell him that you ‘weren’t jealous’, Michael was pulling you flush against his chest. He leaned down and captured your lips in a slow kiss, smiling as you reached up to grab his face and the gasps of the segregation filled your ears.

“Alright, lovebirds, time to get a move on,” Madelyn snickered, walking around the two of you to get to the driver’s side. You gave Michael a lazy smile as you pulled away, before moving to the side so he could open the back door for you. You and Michael slid into the car, Michael instantly wrapping an arm around your shoulders once you were settled. With a final wave at the crowd, Madelyn started the car and drove off.

As you drove along the coastline of California, Michael removed his arm from your shoulder so he could settle between the two front seats, and talk to Madelyn for a moment. You’d been on the road for a while now, having some idle chit-chatting here and there, but keeping to yourself most of the time. As Michael leaned forward, you rested your chin on his back, listening to the conversation quietly.

“I just don’t understand why you can’t tell us exactly where we’re going,” Michael said to Madelyn, playfulness underlying his words.

“I’m sorry,” she laughed, “I’m already freaked out I’ve said too much, and you being who you are…” she trailed off.

“It’s okay. I’m still the same guy I was when you met me,” Michael sighed, looking down at you briefly, and smiling at your content form.

“So not true,” Madelyn laughed again, shaking her head.

“Just tell me.”

Madelyn hesitated for a moment, before sighing. “We are like this secret network. We all know each other.”

“Secret network of people who’ve sold their souls?” Michael asked, nodding slowly.

“Yeah,” she nodded, “and if you think about this network like it’s a hotel, then I am taking the two of you to the penthouse! No one is gonna pass up the chance to meet the true son of the Most Foul! If there’s anyone that can help get you back on track, they can.”

Michael moved back once Madelyn had finished, settling beside you. You curled into his side instantly, placing your hands on his chest, and looking up into his eyes. “I can help get you back on track,” you mumbled quietly, causing Michael to laugh. He looked down at you, his eyes sparkling, before he kissed your forehead.

“You’re the only one that can help get me on track. They’re just gonna add some more fuel for you to use, fox.”

A little while later, you were pulling up in front of a large, glass-paneled building. Madelyn stopped the car out front, allowing you and Michael to get out. The temperature had racked up, so Michael shed his jacket and slung it over his shoulder, keeping his free hand entwined with yours. You kept your leather jacket on despite the heat, having become accustomed to it as of late. Michael walked up to the sidewalk, admiring the building, before he paused.

He turned to look at Madelyn, whom still sat in the running car, with a sad look. “You’re not coming with us.” It wasn’t a question, it was an observational statement.

“They’re not interested in me, they’re only interested in you. I’m lucky I got the (h/c) over here, access. I knew you wouldn’t go without her,” she smiled sweetly, and you gave her an appreciative smile in return. “Just go up the path to the entrance. I really think you’re gonna be impressed.” Michael let go of your hand so he could walk up to the car, kneeling beside it. You stayed back, letting Michael have his moment with Madelyn. “At least I hope so.”

“Why are you so good to me? To us?” he asked, placing a hand on hers over the car door.

“I’ve waited for you my whole life… we all have,” she explained, her voice heavy with unshed tears. “Could I ask you a favor?”

“Anything.” You smiled at Michael’s words.

“When you speak to your father… could you maybe, put in a good word for me?” she sniffled. “When I get to hell, I wanna be in the lowest circle.”

“Circle?” Michael inquired.

“However it’s structured. I wanna be in the worst part- or the best part… I wanna burn in blistering heat and fire, for all eternity, in service,” she smiled, a few tears dripping from her eyes.

“I’ll see what I can do,” Michael grinned, “okay?”

“Okay,” Madelyn replied, her tone much giddier than it had just been. Michael stood up with a final smile, and returned to your side, grabbing your hand. The two of you began to walk up the path before a sudden shout startled you. “Hail Satan!” Michael turned around swiftly, holding a finger up to his mouth, to shush Madelyn playfully.

You shook your head with a gentle smile as the two of you continued to smile. “I’ll miss her,” Michael sighed, squeezing your hand.

“I know, babe.” You brought the back of his hand up to your lips and gave it a gentle kiss before you were entering the building.

You followed Michael while he led you through the twists and turns of the building, as though he knew where he was going. You didn’t doubt it, he had done the same thing at the Ritz, but it still amazed you. The halls were nearly void of people as you walked, until finally, you came to a desk. A lady, dressed in a purple blazer and pencil skirt, stood behind the counter with a package in her hands. She looked up at the sound of your footsteps, a deep frown settling on her face.

“Are you lost?” she spoke immediately, adjusting her grip on the package.

“I’m Michael Langdon. I spoke on the phone with a man named Mutt, about a meeting,” Michael spoke, giving the woman a challenging stare.

“Hm, yes. I’ll go inform him you’re here,” she said, glancing over at you momentarily, before spinning on her heel and leaving the room. There was only one chair in the hallway, so you figured that you and Michael would just stand there patiently.

But, patience wasn’t Michael’s forte. He tugged on your hand, pulling you over to the chair where he sat down. Before you could question his motive, he was grabbing you by the waist, and pulling you down onto his lap. You grunted in surprise, gripping onto his shoulders so you wouldn’t fall off. Michael draped his jacket over the arm of the chair, before he adjusted his grip around you, and rested his chin on your shoulder.

“How ya feeling, babe?” he asked, kissing the underside of your jaw as he spoke.

“Alright. I hope things go according to plan this time,” you grumbled, shooting him a warning look. Michael simply gave you a cheeky grin and kissed the base of your throat. “No, stop that,” you giggled, half-heartedly pushing his head away.

A clearing of someone's throat caused the two of you to look up, seeing the lady in purple stood before you. “They’re ready for you, Mr. Langdon. However, escorts are not permitted upstairs without Jeff or Mutt’s seal of approval.” Michael looked startled at the woman’s words, but you simply laughed bitterly.

“Escort? Really?” you scoffed, removing yourself from Michael’s lap. You walked over to the lady, subconsciously sizing her up despite her height. “I’m not his fucking escort, ma’am. I’m his girlfriend.” Michael stood up quickly, feeling his skin beginning to freeze, and came to stand behind you. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his chest and away from the woman.

“(Y/N) is the only person I trust. She comes with,” he said, his voice not holding any room for argument. The woman gave you a careful up-and-down, before nodding.

“Very well. Right this way then,” she said, turning away from the two of you and walking down the hall. Michael kissed your shoulder once she had turned, feeling his temperature slowly returning to normal.

As the two of you exited the elevator, onto the private floor, you couldn’t but marvel at the simplicity of it. Pipes protruded from the ceiling, and the walls were plain, bare cement. The door at the end of the hall that you and Michael came to, was guarded by a simple lock, that turned green the second Michael’s hand touched the door. However, as soon as you walked through the door, you finally saw the craziness of Silicon Valley, shoved into one room. Behind a glass wall were two men and a woman, all of them staring at you expectantly.

“Dude!” one of them, the brown-haired one, said as you and Michael walked into the room. “What’s up? Come on in,” he chuckled nervously. “Dying to meet you. Madelyn’s really been talking you up. That lady is wacked, right?” He shared a forced laugh with the blond beside him. “But she seems totally convinced that you’re the one.”

“No offense, but I thought you’d be a little more jacked- like, I was picturing you totally ripped like-like The Rock, when he was The Rock,” the blond said, vaguely motioning to his own body. You and Michael both stayed silent as you walked around the room, Michael inspecting each of the robotic items while you kept your hands in your pockets, sticking close.

“No, no that’s like stereotypical dude-”

“What do you mean?”

“-yeah, that’s not cool,” the brunette winced, shaking his head at the blond. “Ah… what’s your name again?” he said, looking at you and Michael with furrowed brows.

“Michael. Langdon.”

“(Y/N),” you offered simply, keeping your face void of how you really felt about the situation.

“Michael Langdon. Hey, you gotta admit, that’s a little weak, right?” the brunette laughed, followed by the blond, completely ignoring you.

“Shouldn’t you be Beelzebub or some shit like that?” the blond laughed, and you could feel your temperature rising. Instantly, you removed your hands from your pockets and took a step in front of Michael. “Old Scratch?” the blond laughed. Michael clenched his jaw before he turned, snatching your hand and beginning to drag you out of the room.

Instantly, a chanting chorus of ‘oh dude’, ‘woah’, ‘no’, and ‘hey’ filled the room, the boy’s frantic voices reaching your ears. You and Michael stopped, turning to look at them suspiciously.

“We-we believe you! You know, I thought I’d be like, pissing my pants or something… and, I am dry as the Sahara, bro.” You winced at the brunette’s desperate attempt to bring Michael back. But it worked, because Michael was letting go of your hand, and slowly walking back into the room.

“You’ve gotta look at it from our shoes, bro. I mean, how do we know you’re the Antichrist?” the blond said, shrugging his shoulders as the brunette agreed.

“Fucking hell, not again,” you groaned quietly, tossing your head back in frustration. You ran your hands through your hair, tugging at the strands, before following Michael further into the room, but keeping your distance. He walked to the center of the room and hesitantly lifted his hair, no doubt revealing his scar to the boys.

“Yeah, I mean, it’s cool, but it’s just a tattoo on your scalp,” the brunette said, and you knew where this was going. You looked at Michael, giving him a warning look and a shake of your head.

“No,” the girl, who had been just as silent as you the whole time, finally spoke. “It’s true, I can feel the darkness. It’s making me sick, and it’s coming from him!” she yelled, before suddenly making a run for the door. You watched her and then watched as Michael’s eyes rolled to the back of his head. The girl suddenly screamed in agony, and you turned to see her body alight in bright, orange flames.

“Holy shit!” Both boys shouted as the girl disappeared into a pile of ash. Michael rolled his head and the lights flickered before he looked over to the boys. You couldn’t see what was happening, but by the terror that filled their faces, you could only imagine. Instantly, they fell to their knees, their chants of ‘Hail Satan’ filling your ears.

“You fucking ass,” you hissed, turning your back on Michael.

Walking out of the private room and stalking down the hallway, you came to a stop by the elevator. You couldn’t get down without a password, and you had nowhere to go even if you did. So, you were stranded in the hallway with your anger. You couldn’t believe Michael had done this, once again. You couldn’t believe you had allowed the boys to talk him into killing that girl. You couldn’t believe that you hadn’t done anything to stop him. You just stood there like a goddamn pole and watched. You could feel tears of anger wanting to form in your eyes, but the sound of the door opening forced you to keep them at bay.

You blinked hastily and looked over, seeing the blond boy exiting. He wasn’t with Michael or the brunette, but he did have his attention focused on you. You gave him a raised eyebrow as he came to a stop beside you, and he smiled down at you cheekily. “I’m Jeff. The other one is Mutt. I never got to formally introduce myself,” he explained, holding out his hand. You simply looked at his outstretched hand, before back at him.

“Jeff and Mutt? Like the comic?” Jeff grinned excitedly at your words, retracting his untouched hand.

“Yeah, exactly! Pretty rad, huh?”

“Not as rad as ‘Michael Langdon’, but whatever,” you shrugged, turning to look back at the elevator.

“Hey uh… what exactly are you to him, by the way?” Jeff asked, taking a dangerous step forward. You turned back to him, eyeing him up-and-down in distaste. “You his side-chick or something? Because lemme tell ya, sweets, I wouldn’t mind having you all to myself.”

“Excuse me?” you scoffed, fully turning your body towards him with a look of shock.

“Yeah, I mean, you’re hot as fuck. I would kill to base one of my VR’s after a night with you. I can only dream of what those lips can do, baby,” Jeff whispered, taking a few steps closer, and cornering you against the elevator. As he spoke, he brought his hand up to your mouth, running a finger over your lips.

“You have five seconds to step away from me before I break your fucking neck,” you snapped, glaring at him dangerously.

“Hey, don’t do that,” Jeff pouted, but removed his hand nonetheless. “I’m just saying, I could show you a good time, and in return, you could show my clients a good time- virtually, that is. I'd pay a lot, and that way, you wouldn’t have to be Michael’s bitch anymore.”

“She isn’t my bitch.” You looked up at the sharp voice of Michael, startled to suddenly see him and Mutt standing behind Jeff.

Said-blond turned around, looking up at Michael in confusion. “Hey, man, listen. Whatever she is- side-chick, hook up, call girl, whatever, I don’t care. We can share her, you know, like you-”

Before Jeff could finish his sentence, Michael was grabbing ahold of his hair and slamming him into the wall beside you. You jumped slightly at the impact, while Jeff limply slid down the wall, holding onto his head in pain. Michael reached forward and grabbed your wrist, harshly yanking you towards him. You didn’t have time to protest, to tell him you were pissed off, before he was kissing you roughly, his hands gripping your sides. You submitted to the kiss, whimpering softly as Michael accidentally bit your lip, blood pooling into both of your mouths. He pulled back at the taste, blinking at you momentarily, before turning to Jeff and Mutt.

“(Y/N) is not my bitch, and she is not my side-anything. She is my girlfriend and the love of my life. She is mine. You will not touch her. You will not talk to her. You will not look at her, or I will burn you to ash. Is that understood?” Weakly, both boys nodded, before Mutt reached over and quickly put in the password for the elevator.

“We’ve uh… we have a hotel set up for you. Jeff and I will meet you at the courtyard in a few minutes, once I’ve got his head on right,” Mutt said distractedly, kneeling beside his brother. The elevator dinged its arrival at the end of Mutt’s sentence, and before you could say anything, Michael was herding you inside.

Once the elevator door shut, and Michael had clicked the button for the bottom floor, you turned on him in anger. “What the fuck was that!” you yelled, shoving at his chest.

“Which part,” he grumbled, already preparing for your onslaught.

“All of it! You didn’t have to kill that fucking girl, Michael! You didn’t have to throw Jeff against the wall! You didn’t have to do any of that bullshit!”

Michael turned to you quickly, but you didn’t flinch away. “Yes, sweetheart, I did. If I didn’t kill her, they wouldn’t have known who I was. If I had let the blond-headed asshole touch you the way he was, I would’ve lost you. I understand that you’re mad, but I had to.” Michael was glaring down at you, the same way you were glaring up at him.

“No. Fuck you, Langdon.” The elevator dinged, opening up to the main floor, and you instantly walked out. “I’m done. I’m done.” You hastily walked down the hallway, trying your best to ignore Michael’s shouts for you. “Don’t follow me,” you added, briefly turning around to find Michael already at your heels.

“Don’t leave…” his voice was small, despite his show of dominance from seconds before.

“Don’t tell me what to do. I need to be alone right now,” you huffed, not sparing Michael a second glance as you walked out of the building.

Your fight with Michael had been hours ago. Now, you were walking around San Francisco's Bay Area in the dead of night, utterly lost. You had ditched your phone in the woods, so you had no way of Google Mapping your way to the hotel you were supposedly staying at. And nobody around you wanted to stop and offer a couple of directions. A part of you wanted to borrow a phone and call Michael; to tell him you were in trouble and needed help. But that would mean defeat and accepting his apology.

Were you about to do that? Fuck no.

Instead, you sucked it up and shouldered past a few people, turning around in a desperate attempt to retrace your steps. Shouldn’t be too hard. A couple of rights here, a few lefts there, that’s all it really was. Except, you weren’t in New Orleans anymore. You didn’t have the safety of your coven a few miles away. You couldn’t close your eyes and mentally call out for your mom. You were alone, in another state, with nothing but the clothes on your back. But it was fine. You were strong, you were invincible, you were (Y/F/N). You could do anything. Getting back to Silicon Valley was going to be a piece of cake.

Getting back to Silicon Valley ended up being a burnt piece of steak.

You had no idea what part of San Francisco you were even in, anymore. You could be in Silicon Valley, you could be in Napa, you could be in San Jose. Hell, you could be in L.A for all you knew. What you did know, was that it was cold, and it was dark, and you were seconds away from bursting into tears and screaming at the top of your lungs.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid…” you grumbled to yourself, rubbing the sleeves of your leather jacket to try and warm yourself up. California was supposed to be hot. You were supposed to be hot. So what was with this cold bullshit?

Just as you were about to duck into an alleyway and call it quits, a car swerved onto the sidewalk beside you. Looking up, you were surprised to see a black Porsche Boxster on the empty street. Sat inside was Michael, looking almost as terrible as you.

“Nice car,” you mumbled, slowly walking up to the passenger door.

Michael’s face was hard, his jaw clenched, and his eyes narrowed. “In. Now.”

This was one of those rare times you actually listened to Michael, without so much as a glare. As soon as the words left his mouth, you were jumping over the door, and settling yourself into the passenger seat. Michael sped off instantly before you could even buckle up. He was white-knuckling the steering wheel, and you didn’t have the balls to even turn on the radio. You’d rather bask in the awkward silence and the car’s brilliant heat.

After an hour of driving in silence, you couldn’t take it anymore. “How did you find me?”

“Same way I’ve found you in the past. Followed the feeling.”

“That’s creepy you know.”

“Would you rather me have left you there? On the streets, in the cold, alone?” Michael’s tone was challenging, but you knew he wouldn’t have done that.

“...No,” you answered regardless.

“Why’d you run away like that?” he asked, adjusting his grip on the steering wheel.

“I told you, I needed time alone. I was mad at what you’d done,” you explained softly, shrinking in the seat.

“So you just left town? Like an idiot?”

“Oh fuck you, I’m anything but an idiot,” you snapped, instantly sitting up. Michael pulled into a hotel parking lot, shutting off the car and turning to look at you.

“No, (Y/N), that’s exactly what you are. You’re in a state you’ve never been to before. You’ve been excommunicated from your coven. From your family-”

“Don’t fucking remind me.”

“Don’t fucking talk to me that way.” You and Michael stared one another down before he was opening the door and getting out of the car, his face dark. “Out.”

“Or what? You’ll leave me out here, alone?” you scoffed, crossing your arms and slumping back in the seat. There was absolutely no reason for you to be this difficult, just like usual, but you couldn’t help it. He was being infuriating.

Michael slammed his door shut, and walked around to the passenger side. “You know what? Fine. You wanna be a stubborn, insufferable, fucking brat, then go ahead. Stay out here in the cold, on your own. Whenever you feel like growing up, I’ll be in room 506,” Michael snarled, his voice filled with anger. He left you after that, the keys to the car shoved in his pocket, before disappearing through the hotel doors.

You’d fucked up. Wholeheartedly, without a doubt, fucked up. Michael had never gotten mad at you before, not like this. But he was right. You were being childish, and stubborn, and everything in between. So, after half-an-hour of brooding in silence, you jumped out of the car, and made your way inside the hotel, to room 506. You didn’t even get a chance to knock on the door before Michael was opening it, staring down at you with bloodshot eyes. He moved away from the door, allowing you to come in, and sat himself down on the edge of the bed. Silently, you kicked off your shoes and shed your jacket, walking over to him. Michael looked up at you, tears slowly falling from his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, reaching out to run a hand through his tangled hair. It had been so perfect this morning. “I shouldn’t have been so reckless.”

Michael shook his head. He reached up and grabbed onto the back of your thighs, pulling you down onto his lap, forcing you to straddle him. He held you close, hiding his face in your neck while he steadied his emotions. “I’m sorry, too,” he sniffled after a few moments. “I shouldn’t have killed that girl, and I shouldn’t have hurt Jeff.”

“I forgive you,” you said softly, moving his face away from your neck.

With a gentle smile, you leaned down and kissed him, tears from both of you falling between your lips. Michael whimpered and tightened his hold on your waist as he moved his lips against your own. You ran your fingers through his hair, tugging on the occasional strand as you did so. “Michael,” you whined quietly, as he trailed his lips from the corner of your mouth to your jawline. His hands snuck their way up your shirt, splaying across your hips, and gripping tightly. He bit and sucked his way down your neck, leaving a myriad of marks on his way.

“I need you,” he whispered, pulling away from your skin so he could look into your (e/c) eyes. “I thought I lost you tonight…”

“You already have me, Michael.” Reaching down, you lifted the hem of your shirt and removed it, tossing the fabric to the side.

Michael hesitantly moved his gaze from your eyes to your chest, running his hands up your stomach carefully. He was testing the waters and you let him, encouraging him by carding your fingers through his hair. Gently, Michael grabbed onto your breasts, briefly looking up for your conformational nod, before ducking his head and kissing his way down. Reaching around you, he unclasped your bra, his mouth still attached to the top of your tit as he did so. Slowly, he let the straps fall from your shoulders until you had to lean back so it could be removed all the way. He cupped the underside of your boobs, instantly pulling a nipple into his mouth, earning a startled gasp from you as he swirled his tongue around the perked nub. With his free hand, he tweaked your other nipple, switching sides every so often. You arched your back into his touch, biting on your lip harshly to refrain from whimpering out loud. You gripped onto his shoulders, while your hips grinded onto his lap subconsciously. Michael pulled away after your breasts were bruised to his liking, and began undoing his own shirt, tossing it into the pile with yours. While Michael was busy undressing, you continued your ministrations against his lap, until he was done.

Grabbing onto your waist, Michael managed to pick you up, and placed you down on the center of the bed, hovering over you. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?” he whispered, his voice thick with underlying lust.

“Yes, I’m sure,” you nodded. You leaned up and kissed him, giving Michael all the proof he needed to continue.

After pulling away, he unbuttoned your jeans and pulled them down your thighs, tossing them to the pile. Crawling back up the bed, Michael attached his lips to your neck once again, but this time, his fingers slowly trailed down your abdomen, and to your panty line. He hesitated only a moment, before dragging his finger over the wet slit of your underwear. Instantly, you bucked into his touch, blushing at your wanton movements. Michael’s touch was light and teasing, just barely ghosting over the area where your clit was. You were forced to buck your hips into his hand to get any form of friction, but Michael wasn’t giving in.

“Please, Michael,” you whimpered after too long of his teasing.

“Please what?” he mused, kissing at your neck lazily.

“You know what.”

“No, I don’t think I do,” he hummed, his voice vibrating up your throat.

“Please touch me,” you caved, bucking your hips for emphasis. Michael grinned before pressing his thumb down, rubbing harshly at your clit through your underwear. “Ah, shit!” you cried, digging your nails into his shoulder blades at the sudden touch.

Michael continued to rub at your clit and kiss your neck, occasionally leaning down to gently kiss your abused breasts. But soon, he had enough. He leaned back, grinning devilishly at the needy whine that escaped your lips. He unbuttoned and removed his own pants, followed by his underwear, before bending down and slowly removing your underwear. You bent your legs, making it easier for him to do so, blushing deeply as Michael expertly tossed the used garment onto the doorknob of your hotel room. Gripping your thighs, he spread your legs apart for him, ducking his head between them. You knew what was coming, but you still weren’t prepared for the hot feeling of his tongue against your slit. You gasped in pleasure, moving your hands to grip at his hair, as Michael ran his tongue up and down your slit. While Michael pressed his tongue against your clit, he carefully inserted two fingers into your wet hole, taking satisfaction in the breathy moan you gave him. He worked his fingers inside you, wiggling them around until your hips jumped and you were crying out. Pressing against the bundle of nerves he had finally found, Michael slowly pushed in a third finger, looking up at you to make sure you weren’t hurting.

You had your eyes shut, and your hands tangled in his hair, tugging whenever he managed to hit that spot again. Finally, after a while of preparing you, Michael pulled away. You looked down at him between your shaking thighs, betrayal evident on your face. Michael couldn’t help the laugh that ripped through him.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he smiled, crawling back up to give you a kiss. You hummed softly, not minding the taste of yourself on his lips, before he was retreating again. “You ready?”

“We don’t have a condom,” you whispered, even as you lifted your hips to rub against his cock.

“I’ll pull out, I promise,” Michael said, moving a stray piece of hair out of your face. You thought for a moment, before nodding, widening your legs. With a heavy breath, Michael guided himself inside of you, taking it one inch at a time. You squeezed your eyes shut at the brief pain, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and pulling him close. Michael allowed you to take refuge in his neck, murmuring softly into your ear while slowly sheathing himself fulling inside you.

“Oh fuck,” you whimpered, feeling Michael’s full length inside you.

“You okay?” he asked, willing his hips not to move.

“Y-yeah, I’m okay,” you nodded, your voice cracking slightly. “Go ahead, I’m alright,” you assured, wrapping your legs around his waist. Michael smiled and leaned down to kiss you once more. He began moving once he did, drowning out both your moans and cries with his lips. Your nails dragged down his shoulders, no doubt leaving bright red marks, as Michael thrust deep inside you. He kept his hold on your hips gentle, rubbing soothing circles into the bruises he had accidentally left earlier.

“Fuck, baby,” Michael moaned, pulling back from the kiss to toss his head back. You leaned up, kissing at his exposed throat. Michael’s hips stuttered as you bit down, sucking on the skin as a form of payback. When you pulled back, Michael grabbed your hands, placing them beside your head. He entwined your fingers while picking up the pace of his thrusts. “(Y/N).”

“M-Michael,” you whimpered, moving your legs higher on his waist, and gripping his hands tightly. Michael bowed his head, his damp hair dangling over your chest, as he panted desperately, the new angle causing the two of you to cry out in pleasure. “I’m c-close.”

“Cum,” Michael demanded softly, pulling away from your chest to look down at you. “Cum for me, (Y/N).”

Your hips bucked and your thighs tightened around his waist, while your back arched into his chest. “Michael!” you screamed, no longer caring if anyone heard you. You felt the familiar heat of your orgasm untangle in your abdomen, while you cried out in blinding pleasure as you came.

“Fuck!” Michael grunted, his thrusts losing their pattern as he neared his edge. Michael didn’t want to finish this soon, but seeing your blissed-out look, tits pressed against his chest, thighs squeezing his waist, and having your inner walls clamped around him, he didn’t have much of a choice. With a reluctant hiss, Michael pulled out of you, and grabbed his cock, having the intent of jacking off his release.

But then you were removing your legs with a whimper, and weakly pressing against his shoulders. Michael looked at you in concern, thinking you were suddenly hurt, but then he saw that your attention was entirely on his erected dick. He let you push him to the side, so that he was now on his back, while you kneeled beside him. Before Michael could ask if you were sure, your lips were closing around the head of his cock, and your tongue was dragging itself along a particular vein.

“Christ!” Michael yelled, and you almost stopped at his rare usage of the holy word.

But you continued with even more determination, even as Michael grabbed your hair in his hands, forming a makeshift ponytail. You used the leverage to swallow him further until his head was hitting the back of your throat. A moan rumbled its way through your mouth, but all that managed to do was push Michael over the edge. Without warning, he was cumming, and you easily swallowed it all despite the horrible taste. After sucking his cock for a few more seconds, guaranteeing he was dry, you pulled off with an obscene pop. You looked up at Michael with a smirk, licking the corner of your lips for any mess. Michael stared at you, his chest heaving, before he reached down and grabbed you, pulling you up to the pillows with him. He maneuvered the two of you under the blankets, making it more difficult than it needed to be since he didn’t want to let go of you. But, once you were both settled underneath, he was holding you close with a content smile.

“I love you,” he whispered, his arms wrapped entirely around your waist, with your face pressed against his chest. “You did amazing, babygirl.”

“I love you, too. I’m sorry we’ve fought so much lately,” you hummed, kissing his chest and smiling at his praise.

“It’s alright, baby. It’s all gonna be alright.” Michael’s words were soft and soothing, and before you knew it, you were fast asleep in his arms, with the morning sun shining over the two of you.

Michael Langdon 18 Months Taglist (OPEN): @omg-luv4lyfe-universe @hesvoid34 @winchesterbloodxxxx @justanotherdaydreamersoul @frozenhuntress67 @michaels-slut @buckynatlarry @sweetcredence @crybabycth @very-aesthetic-pineapple @rainbowxmisa @xbutterflykisses78x @sherlokid7 @hexqueensupreme @kaliforniacoastalteens @xlangdons-evilbabygirlx @madhatterweasley @skullchik89 @assgardiangoddess @booyouwhoreee @kerouacsroad @moonagecordelia @valentinevirgo @aliahemmings97 @becca-in-outer-space @supersoldierballerina @quione3 @hxdesworld @multi-madison @lanijoyxo @bookwormstrawberry @killcort @shado-cat @heartjuliehart @alex--awesome--22 @scarletraine @x-idontknow-x @ourcielapologist @queenie435 @meeeeeeeeeps @goofyredpanda @naughtykpopthoughtz @daydreamin1220 @thewritten-angel @kayylluhh @x-i-a-t @howaboutanap @sidemans @divinelavellan @callbellaforagoodtime @bara-rose-would @geminiogy @la-gordita-mas-bonita @vampires0 @msjamesmarch @fand0msgal0re @saddbxtchh @nerdyalienhybrid @weeabootie @vikingsimaginesandthangs @sexxxychiq @al-chanyeol-mae @thatbatshitcrazyfangirl @helenaway-07 @baldenki @michael-langdxn @kickasskittie23 @samm-nicoleee18 @r3beltothesystem @misanthropegal @zrozenazchaosu @agb-random @whileinparis @thestylestour @leximills666 @pinkhappypanda @winterofherdiscontent @ivyxchaplin @mysticalavengers @the-captain-kidd @m-i-a-m-c-d-e-e @amarokofficial @thecrystalwitches @grippleback-galaxy @14-bees @evanpeters3826 @justatadbonkers @ghastlybespook @leasly @kezzasaurus-rex @lostsomewhere93 @langdonfern @absnicole

[megwritesfanfiction]

Disclaimer: I do not own Boku No Hero Academia/My Hero Academia. This is a work of fiction that I am not making a profit off of.

A/N: You guys... I have had so much caffeine it’s ridiculous. I did not think I was gonna get this updated this week, but it's done! Thanks for all the hearts, kudos, and comments! They keep me warm and going! <3

Chapter One: Tumblr Chapter Two: Tumblr Chapter Three: Tumblr Chapter Four: Tumblr Chapter Five: Tumblr

Chapter 6: “Fuck you and your word a day calendar!” Chapter Summary:  “That word a day calendar seems to be doing wonders for your vocabulary,” Bakugo snorted, wiping his face with the bottom of his shirt.

“I know what the word break means.” Kirishima finished the last of his water with a loud sigh. “Today’s word was perfidious for your information.”

How ironic.

Since he was forced to sit and listen to his mother scream about her ruined kitchen table, Bakugo decided to use that time to think.

His father was right.

He enjoyed being around Uraraka.

She was one of the few people who genuinely didn’t vilify his behavior. It took his classmates awhile to get used to his behavior, but none of them really understood him like she had.

Yaoyorozu, Tokoyami, and Shoji would typically shoot him a look of disapproval before ignoring him.

Iida would shout about how he needed to contain himself or give a lecture about how unbecoming his behavior was.

Mina would shake her head and sometimes fan the flames of his irritation.

Kaminari would tell him to calm down which was probably one of the worst of reactions.

Kirishima tried. As much crap as Bakugo gave the redhead, he could never say he didn’t try to understand him. A lot of the time, it felt like Kirishima wasn’t unsure how to handle his outbursts. There were times he got it right, but there were others he poured gasoline on the already unstable combustion.

Midoriya was the person who surprised him the most.

For all of Midoriya’s insight, he never understood that his anger was a defensive mechanism. It took the two battling it out and an overflow of trauma for Bakugo to breakdown in front of his rival. The things he’d said and done were unforgivable. Bakugo wouldn’t ever try to excuse them but he could never stop himself from wondering why hadn’t Midoriya seen his fear.

Uraraka treated his temper and brash voice as a part of who he was and embraced it. Rather than cringe, she’d smile and continue talking to him.

It reminded him of how his father spoke to his mother when she ranted or her voice raised.

Sometimes she’d throw a smart comment back at him and they would end up trading snarky remarks back and forth. Uraraka wasn’t afraid to go toe to toe with him, and she didn’t treat him like he was unstable.

When he challenged her, she rose to meet him before surpassing him with a challenge of her own.

Who wouldn’t want to hang out with someone who you could have fun with, who understands you, and could trade sarcastic little quips with?

Bakugo decided after dinner that he would send her a text message.

Casual.

Not intimidating.

The method also gave him the ability to control the conversation and carefully craft his words.

He’d survived his mother’s scathing eulogy about her destroyed dining room table while they ate dinner in the living room without saying a word surprisingly. Anytime he felt a remark itching on his tongue, he shoveled another mouthful of curry into his mouth to stop himself. Arguing would draw out the already painful sermon his mother was screaming. He almost laughed at the sight of his father’s eyes bouncing between them in confusion as he remained silent.

When Bakugo finally made it to his room, he dropped to the edge of his bed to realize he didn’t have Uraraka’s phone number.

“Of fucking course,” he growled, cradling his head in his hands. He’d worked up the nerve to message her, not that it was a big deal, and he didn’t even have her number.

To be fair, he didn’t have a lot of his classmates’ cell phone numbers. The only reason he bothered saving Kirishima’s number was that they regularly worked out together, and the rest of the idiots in their group had come with the package.

Yaoyorozu had made a class directory and group chat during their first year, but Bakugo had dismissed that and destroyed the email as soon as he’d seen it.

“Fuck.”

Much to his regret.

He didn’t think that about two and a half years later he’d regret not participating in idle chatter, questionable memes, and whatever stupid antics went on there.

Bakugo huffed, scrolling through his contacts.

Someone had to have her number.

Calling Midoriya was out of the question. The two of them hadn’t called or texted since middle school, and Bakugo planned on keeping up the streak. The only reason he had his information was because he’d have to go to Midoriya’s house after school or sleep over when his parents had to work late.

After Midoriya, Ashido would be the person next likely to have Uraraka’s number. Ashido was also a terrible gossip and probably wouldn’t give up the information unless she knew why Bakugo wanted it.

Kaminari wasn’t smart enough for discretion. It was unlikely he even had her number. The moron would probably go to the group message to ask her for her number and tell everyone he asked for it.

He could probably trust Jirou. The two of them had oddly bonded over their love of skulls, but she wasn’t someone he really knew. It felt weird asking her for a favor, and it would be even weirder if she didn’t have Uraraka’s information or questioned why he wanted it.

Bakugo sighed, stopping on the only person he could call in this situation. Clicking on the name, he held the phone against his ear as impatiently waited for an answer. “Oi, Shitty hair…”

There was always Kirishima.

“What are you doing tomorrow?”

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

URARAKA, 12:12PM

Please tell me we aren’t getting soba noodles tomorrow.

MIDORIYA, 12:15PM

Lol! It’s the one thing we know Todoroki will eat.

URARAKA, 12:15PM

That boy needs some variety!

MIDORIYA, 12:16PM

I’ll leave that conversation to you then.

URARAKA, 12:18PM

I am in no position to tell anyone anything. I have been engaged in an epic battle with the copier all morning, and I am losing.

MIDORIYA, 12:18PM Heroes don’t lose. Defeat is NOT an option, Uravity!

URARAKA, 12:18PM

It is after 4 paper jams and having to replace the toner.

MIDORIYA, 12:21PM

Work study fun, eh?

URARAKA, 12:25PM

Work study hell…

URARAKA, 12:25PM

I mean, It’s nice I got to get back to campus earlier and get settled. Plus I’m getting paid… But, DUDE! I’m pretty sure I’ve gone through an illegal amount of paper.

MIDORIYA, 12:26PM

It can’t be that bad.

URARAKA, 12:27PM

Sent a photo

MIDORIYA, 12:27PM

Holy crap…

URARAKA , 12:28PM

Indeed. You would not believe the liability forms. These things are amazingly thorough.

MIDORIYA, 12:30PM

Oh I believe that! I’m pretty sure some of those are because of me!! Lol

URARAKA, 12:30PM

Probably! Lol

URARAKA, 12:31PM

You problem child you!

MIDORIYA, 12:33PM

I’m not the one sneaking out with the class bad boy…

URARAKA, 12:34PM

….

MIDORIYA, 12:34PM

:D

URARAKA, 12:36PM

I would like to say something very rude and unpleasant to you, but I can’t because you’re my best friend and you covered for me so I’m giving you until next semester until I fight back…

MIDORIYA, 12:37PM

You ask him out yet?

URARAKA, 12:38PM

Let the boys know that I’m good for tomorrow

MIDORIYA, 12:38PM

Is that a no?

URARAKA, 12:39PM

Also tell them no soba noodles!

MIDORIYA, 12:39PM

At least give him back his hoodie

URARAKA, 12:39PM

The hoodie is mine. It still smells very nice and it’s cozy.

MIDORIYA, 12:40PM

Thief

URARAKA, 12:43PM

Yes, but ANYWAY! I g2g, Mic just came in and I think I have more copies to make.

URARAKA, 12:44PM

… Yay…. NOT

MIDORIYA, 12:45PM

Later!

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

“You know,” Kirishima panted, collapsing against the gym mat. “When you said you wanted to hang out-”

Bakugo rolled his eyes, blinking back droplets of sweat gathering on his lashes. He dropped his back against the concrete wall and lowered himself to a wall sit to rest.

“I figure-” He shrugged taking in a large gulp of air as his muscles burned with exertion. “Oh cool, we can go to the movies, play some games at the arcade, go on a hike, go shopping-”

“I fucking hate the mall...”

“That!” he wheezed, pointing at his friend with a small sneer and shooting him a sharp glare from bleary eyes. “That is not the point! If I knew you were going to torture me-”

To be fair, torture wasn’t really his intention. “How is this different than any other workout during the school year?” Just an added bonus of his little scheme.

“It’s different because we’re on break!”

“Not an excuse to be lazy.” Red eyes drifted toward the black and yellow gym bag resting under the bench by the wall. He could see that obnoxious Crimson Riot charm dangling next to a cartoonish turkey leg from here. How the hell did those things not get in his way when he used his phone.

“Dude!”

He just needed a minute.

“Not an excuse to be lazy?!”

Two at most.

Kirishima rolled up with a groan as he reached for the half-empty water bottle. Ripping the cap off, he shook his head at his friend. “The word literally means to stop or pause,” he started, taking a large gulp of water. “That means we shouldn’t be here!” His arms flailed around the empty training facility.

“That word a day calendar seems to be doing wonders for your vocabulary,” Bakugo snorted, wiping his face with the bottom of his shirt.

“I know what the word break means.” Kirishima finished the last of his water with a loud sigh. “Today’s word was perfidious for your information.”

How ironic. “Are you done whining?” Bakugo questioned, clearing his throat and forcing a scowl on his brow. A lump of guilt settled in his stomach as he focused on the task at hand.

“No.”

“The sooner we finish the sooner we can get something to eat,” he commented, walking over to the redhead. Bakugo lightly kicked his side. “Round three, shitty hair. Let’s go.” He looked back to the phone.

“Next time you get the twisted idea in your head to ‘hang out’, I’m picking what we do,” Kirishima huffed as he took a deep breath.

Maybe he wouldn’t notice it if he grabbed it now. “Okay.”

“Brunch, then the arcade.” Maybe drag Sero and Kaminari just in case Bakugo decided to pull this little stunt again so he wouldn’t have to suffer alone.

“Noted,” Bakugo nodded as he moved toward his gym bag to grab a towel. “Now get the fuck up.”

“Fine,” Kirishima groaned, moving to his feet wobbling a little bit. “Let me get some water.”

Finally.

“Some of us are trying to enjoy our break without getting heat stroke.”

“Tch.” Bakugo turned away from his friend as he listened to his footsteps fade. The water station was located about a couple of yards outside of the training facility. Knowing Kirishima, he would fill his water bottle and then take a couple sips off the top before refilling it again.

Two minutes.

Two and a half if Kirishima decided to take his time.

Taking a quick glance behind him, Bakugo dived for Kirishima’s phone. Since when had that idiot put a passcode on his phone?

“Shit…” he hissed, thumbs tapping against the sides of his phone. He’d start with the obvious.

1-0-1-6

Bakugo growled watching the screen shake as his attempt was denied. “What the fuck else could it be?”

It had to be something simple.

Kirishima wasn’t the brightest person in their class. His password would be simple and easy for him to remember. If it wasn’t his birthday, then there was a small possibility it could be Ashido’s. Bakugo didn’t know Ashido’s birthday. Quite frankly, he was impressed that he knew Kirishima’s.

His eyes narrowed as he studied the bubbles above the number pad. “Why the fuck are there five?” Bakugo hadn’t noticed the small cue when he first picked up the phone. “Can’t be a birthday then…”

What the hell else could it be?

It wasn’t a birthday or any other date for that matter.

He wouldn’t use the first five digits of his phone number.

Their student ID numbers contained seven digits.

Kirishima’s dorm number only had three digits.

Unless it wasn’t a number.

6-2-6-5-9

The phone unlocked with a little click sending Bakugo to the main screen. He wasn’t sure who to be more upset with. Kirishima for actually setting his passcode to be ‘manly’ or himself for knowing to try it.

Bakugo quickly found his contacts scrolling through the list. Thankfully his friend kept his contacts organized and labeled properly even if he did use an obscene amount of emojis to label each person listed in his phone. He found her name toward the end with a star next to it.

His eyes scanned over the number.

URARAKA OCHAKO

90-7827-3--

“What the hell are you doing?”

Bakugo’s shoulders stiffened as he looked at the redhead standing a few feet in front of him. His eyes drifted back to the small red phone in his hands and back to his friend.

“Well?” Kirishima questioned, disapproval on his face.

“I, uh-” He looked back at the phone as he focused memorizing the phone number. “I just had to call my mom.”

“So use your phone.”

“Battery is low.” A part of him wished he could just message the phone number to himself, but Kirishima would see it the next time he went to text him.

“Since when do you ever call your mother?”

Unless he deleted the message from Kirishima’s chat history. “Since I got in trouble last night for destroying the kitchen table.” He was already caught.

“I’ve watched you blow holes in the wall while calling your mother a ‘fucking bitch’ to her face and all of a sudden you have to call her?”

He’d forgotten about that. “Yeah.” How the hell was he supposed to send himself a contact on this piece of crap? On his own phone, there was an option for it under the contact name.

“For what?!”

“I’m not going to be home for dinner.”

“Are you kidding me?!” Kirishima screeched with a bitter laugh as he stomped over toward him.

There it was. “No.” There was a button at the corner of the screen for more options.

“Give me my phone.”

“One minute.” Bakugo pivoted back, moving the phone out of reach.

“It’s my phone!”

“I’m not scrolling through your stuff!”

“Well,” Kirishima gritted his teeth as he stepped in front of his friend. His arms folded in front of his chest. “You’re not calling your mother either.”

Bakugo sighed, dropping the phone to his side. “I need to use your phone.”

“For what?”

Jaw clenched and lips tightened, he turned his head away as he felt his ears burn. The more he tried to find the words to explain the dumber it felt tickling at the edge of his tongue.

“Well?!”

“Why is this such a big deal?”

“Umm-” Kirishima snapped back, eyes furrowed angrily. “I go to get water, you’re going through my phone without my permission, and you have the nerve to sound offended?”

If there was ever a time for him to feel like a complete asshole, now was perfect. He’d managed to betray one of the few people who sincerely tried to put up with him. “Look-”

“Yeah, gimme my phone,” he lunged toward Bakugo, tackling the blonde to the floor.

“Hey wa-”

“I said gimm-”

“That’s my side you asshole!”

“Well my knee wouldn’t-”

“I can’t breath! Y-”

“You can breathe. If you couldn’t you’d be quieter…”

Smart ass.

“And I’d have my phone. Give. It,” Kirishima commanded, tapping him on the head like a naughty puppy.

Bakugo growled loudly, face sinking into the mat as his body relaxed. He could easily overpower Kirishima. For all of his fury, the redhead had left his arms open despite placing a knee to his back. All he had to do was flash an explosion in his face to blind him and roll him into an armbar. “Fucking fine.” But that would make him an even bigger jerk.

“Good boy.”

As soon as Kirishima removed the knee from his side, Bakugo scrambled to his knees. “Here,” he grunted, tossing the phone back as he stood up in defeat.

“Thank you,” Kirishima nodded with a polite bow and small smile.

Fucker.

“You wanna tell me what this is about?” he questioned, holding up the phone. “Like, I would like to think that you’re not snooping in my stuff, ‘cause I’ve got some pretty sensitive-”

“Ugh, what the fuck? No!” Bakugo sneered. “I'm not interested in your amateur work!” He had enough trauma, he really didn’t need to see that.

“Pervert! I was talking about my poetry!”

Sometimes he wondered why he was friends with this idiot.

“I’m not dumb enough to keep-”

“Stop! Just-” He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose before inhaling deeply. “Look, I just needed a phone number.”

Kirishima smirked, placing a fist against his hips. “So you couldn’t ask like a normal person?”

Bakugo wasn’t going to bother answering a question they both already knew the answer to.

“Who’s number?”

Silence.

“Well?! ”

His chest tightened, embarrassment rising. “Uraraka’s,” Bakugo muttered, gargling out the syllables behind clenched teeth.

Lifting the phone to meet his eyes, Kirishima easily maneuvered through applications on his phone. “Huh?”

Damn it. “Uraraka,” he said again, teeth gnashing together as he made unintelligible sounds.

Kirishima looked up from his phone, shrugging his shoulders slowly.

“Uraraka!”

“Oh…”

Bakugo’s shoulders collapsed down as he felt his face burn.

“Why?”

Now he remembered why he decided to just take his phone and get the number himself. “Do I need a reason?”

“No.”

Good.

“But-”

Goddammit.

“That just leaves me to speculate why you want her number.” Kirishima’s voice was dangerously nonchalant. “I have a lot to think about. I mean-”

This is what he got for trying to socialize.

“-you all were pretty close at the club-”

Things were much easier when he didn’t bother to interact with other people.

“-and you seemed to get all worked up about me seeing you dance with her.”

Bakugo wasn’t sure when he slowly started shifting into this somewhat social creature, but he was starting to rethink the benefits of being a hermit.

“You left pretty suddenly,” Kirishima’s brows raised, “and went back to the dorms.”

Oh.

“And Uraraka stayed out for ice cream, right?”

He knew. “How would I know?”

He plopped down on the bench, kicking his legs out in front of him with a proud smirk, “Dude, don’t insult my intelligence.”

“Fuck you and your word a day calendar!” Why was this such a big deal?

Kirishima laughed, “So you and Uraraka snuck off for a bit. It’s not a big deal. I’m just hurt that you didn’t tell me, dude.”

Guilt bubbled at the base of his stomach mixing with the anxiety fluttering around his chest. He wasn’t sure when he started feeling guilt, but he could see why people cracked under the weight of this emotion.

“Like, I talk to you about Mina-”

He didn’t ask for that. In fact, Bakugo would have preferred not to have to hear about their weird relationship.

“I figured you’d at least talk to me about your first girlfriend-”

“She’s not my girlfriend! We just got some damn ice cream!”

“Crush whatever.” Kirishima snickered, reaching to wrap his arms around him in a hug. “Awww, my little Bakubro has a crus-”

“Forget it!” Bakugo barked, stomping over to his bag. He shoved his towel, water bottle, and phone into his bag, roughly tossing it over his shoulder as his face reddened. “Just forget I said anything. I’m ou-”

“Dude!”

“No!”

“She’s in the main building,” Kirishima chuckled, shaking his head at his friend’s panic.

His face relaxed as confusion replaced anger, “Huh?”

“You want her phone number, go ask her yourself. She’s on campus.”

Bakugo blinked once, twice as he tried to process the information. The adrenaline from his anger vibrated down his spine as he felt himself relax.

“She’s back early because of work study,” he smirked, pushing himself to his feet. “You would know if you were in the class chat.”

“Tch.”

Gently patting his shoulder, Kirishima beamed, “You might wanna hurry up, because she’s done around six. I mean you could go visit her at the dorms-”

“You can’t just give me her number?” What the hell was he supposed to even say to her?

“No.” Kirishima grinned happily. “Consider this your penance.”

He deserved it.

“Especially since you stole my phone, won’t tell me why you want her number, and I’m being gracious enough not to push you.”

That was fair.

“For now.” Kirishima knew that Bakugo would talk to him when he was ready.

Or when he cracked.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Thirty more minutes.

Uraraka wasn’t going to complain. With no classes, her work study hours were longer which meant more money going into her savings account.

But, it was boring.

She’d spent the day working on orientation packets for the incoming first year students.

In the morning, Uraraka spent hours copying flyers, forms, liability forms, questionnaires, rules, and anything else U.A. felt the incoming students needed to know. She honestly didn’t remember it being this much paperwork.

This amount of paperwork was probably because of everything that happened during her first year. Her class had been kidnapped, attacked, and assaulted more times than she cared to remember during their first term.

She’d watched the bright green light roll back and forth along the glass plate of the machine for hours as she waited for her copies to finish. When Present Mic interrupted her to tell her that she’d need to recopy one of the forms because there had been a last minute change, she’d nearly released a scream that could rival Mic’s loudest wail. Luckily, she was able to set the paper up in the copier and take her lunch break.

She made her way back to her workstation after treating herself to a ridiculously large and, in her opinion, overpriced iced coffee. Uraraka decided she deserved a treat for not screaming when the copier jammed for the eighth time or at Present Mic’s interruption. Now that the papers were copied, she had to assemble packets and sort the small forest of papers around her.

“Let’s see,” she murmured, chewing on her bottom lip as she set another stack of papers aside.

Nearly five hours and another iced coffee later, she was halfway through the papers. She had a couple of days before All Might and Aizawa needed the papers but she wanted this task out of the way as soon as possible.

She pulled the pink and white notepad across the table as she examined her to-do list. With a loud sigh, she picked up her coffee and bright the straw to her lips as she read.

First year student orientation and first day packets.

Inventory combat equipment.

Finish her own application to extend her work hours for the upcoming year.

Update the student database.

Call IT.

Get more copier tone-“

“Umm-“

Uraraka’s eyes widened as she bit down on the plastic straw. “Bakugo?” she questioned, slowly lifting her head up to face him.

He took an awkward step into the room, an arm bent behind his back as he scratched the base of his neck.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, suddenly very aware of the fact that she was still wearing the hoodie he’d given her. She swallowed a gulp of room temperature coffee as she tried to will the flush from her cheeks.

“Kirishima needed some paperwork,” Bakugo mumbled, shoving his hands into his pockets he tilted his head behind him.

She could clearly see the bright red tuft of hair through the large window in front her. “Oh.” That explained it. “Well it’s nice that you came with him.”

He nodded, face twisting between unreadable emotions while his eyes followed her motions.

“I was just finishing up with some paperwork,” Uraraka babbled as she sat her cup back to the table. Her fingers nervously skimmed over the pile papers as her eyes dropped down to the table. “I uh-“ His gaze made her feel heavy and self conscious. Hopefully he hadn’t noticed the coffee stain on the front of her shirt or tired bags beneath her eyes. “I thought I would be able to get these done today.” Oh all the days for her not to wash her hair, it had to be today.

Bakugo himself looked like he’d just finished working out. Even though he was standing on the other side of the table, her nose managed to catch a whiff of that heavy sweet nitroglycerin scent. She also hadn’t minded watching the twitch of his arm muscles as he-

“But I still have a bunch to sort,” she stammered as she continued to move papers around the table. “I thin-“

“You wanna hangout?”

She stilled, fingers digging into the papers she shuffled. “Huh?” she questioned softly, slowly releasing grip she had on the paper and wincing at the sight of the wrinkles. She was going to have to redo those.

“You said we should hang out,” he huffed, rolling his shoulders back casually as pink stained his cheeks. “Do you wanna hang out or don’t ya?”

“Yeah.”

“Tomorrow?”

Right now would have been wonderful too. “Okay,” she nodded as she stood up straight. Rolling up the sleeves of his hoodie, she wiped her hands against her jeans.

“Give me your number.”

“Wha-”

“So I can text you,” he grumbled, shifting his weight to one of his legs. Bakugo took a step forward and shoved his phone at her. “Just put your number in.”

Uraraka typed in her phone number before handing him back the phone. “Okay, I’ll talk to you then.”

He nodded, a slow smug smirk curled at the corner of his lips, “That’s my hoodie.” Bakugo pocketed the phone, looking down at her with wide curious eyes.

“It is,” she commented, looking down at the garment as if she had forgotten she was wearing it. “I was gonna wash it and give it back you at the beginning of year-”

“Whatever,” he shrugged, “It’s not a big deal.”

She smiled sheepishly, wrapping the hoodie around her body.

“I gotta go,” he told her, clearing his throat. Tipping his head back toward Kirishima outside of the door, Bakugo rolled his eyes at Kirishima’s obnoxious laughter while he chatted with one of their teachers.

“Alright.”

“I’ll text you later. “

“Awesome,” she beamed, watching him walk out of the door and giving a happy wave. “See you Bakugo.”

“Later.” He nodded.

Uraraka watched him walk past the large window that opened to the view of the main floor. As soon as he stepped out of sight, she crouched down to the floor cradling her cheeks. “Oh my god,” she mouthed.

It was so much easier to talk to him when she was high off of a successful end of the year and overworked from school. The alcohol had also helped.

“What the heck just happened?” she gasped quietly as she shook her head.

Bakugo had just invited her out tomorrow, presumably just the two of them.

He’d asked for her number.

He'd noticed she was wearing his hoodie and let her keep it.

And promised to text her later.

If she didn’t know better, she would think he was flirting with her but Uraraka knew better than to make crazy assumptions.

The soft vibration of her phone stopped her panic as she reached into the front pouch of the hoodie. She pulled out her phone, tapping on the screen to view the message.

90-3473-2666, 5:47PM

It’s me.

Her eyes widened as her mouth dropped open.

90-3473-2666, 5:47PM

Told you I’d text you later.

To be continued…

[toms-order]

lovely

Part four

Soulmate au!

Bucky Barnes x female reader

Summary: Bucky thinks that his soulmate doesn’t exist, but what happens when he finally finds her? What happens when loving him puts her in danger?

Warnings: mentions PTSD, violence,

part one

part two

part three

part five 

***************************************************

The sounds of hushed voices and fingers typing on keyboards drove Steve crazy. He didn't know whether or not it was because he was frozen in ice for years or if he just hated new technology, but whatever it was, computers drove him insane. The sounds they made and the information they held made him feel like he was from another planet.

Steve observed his surroundings. He watched as interns scrambled around, coffee in hand and higher authorities barking orders at people. Steve felt like he was looking through glass, into the future. Things have changed so much, he didn't know how to handle it. Sure the internet helped, but it didn't help his mental state. He was confused all the time and felt like he was an invader to his own world.

It didn't help that he didn't have his soulmate anymore. Sure, she was alive, but she wasn't there. She wasn't the girl he remembered. Her code had started to fade and the connection went with it. He felt his chest ache every damn day, and he didn't know how to stop it. He wondered if that was how Bucky felt.

He knew about the pain he felt, he knew how he wished every night for his soulmate. She never came. He wondered what happened to her. Was she still alive? Did the war take her away? Did she feel the same pain Bucky felt? He wondered what things would be like if she did show up. He knew Bucky would be happier, more himself. He saw the sad glances Bucky gave everytime Steve was with his soulmate. Steve knew everything could've been different. He had questions he knew he could never find the answers too.

“Soldier.” A voice broke Steve from his thoughts.

Steve turned towards the voice, seeing a man. He wore a suit and an earpiece. Steve assumed he worked there.

“What is it?” Steve asked nicely.

The man gulped nervously, fiddling with the phone in his hand. “We have him.”

Steve knew exactly who he was talking about. They have been trying to find him for months. “Where?” He asked.

“Small town in illinois. He’s been there for a couple months now.”

Steve grew confused. Bucky never stayed a place longer than a couple of weeks. Why had he stayed there for long?

“Do you know why?” He asked, his eyebrows furrowed and his arms crossed.

“Not yet sir.” The agent paused. “He was spotted with a girl.”

“A girl?” Steve paused. “Are you sure?”

The agent nodded nervously. “We’re sure.”

Steve clenched his jaw, new questions swarmed his head.

“Schedule a jet take off.” He sighed. “And get Sam on the phone.”

~~~

Things have changed progressively since the incident. It has been one month of hesitant touches and tense stares. Bucky never slept over again, he never touched you for so long anymore. Even after the bruises disappeared, you caught him looking at your neck with regretful eyes and sad looks. You also caught yourself becoming more tense around him. For the first two weeks, you couldn’t help but feel a little afraid every time he dozed off during a movie. You hated that you felt that way, you knew Bucky would never intentionally hurt you, but you couldn't help it. As time passed you realized you missed him, you missed what you two had. You missed the soft touches and lazy kisses, you missed the cuddles and long loving kisses. You took Bucky to meetings every Sunday. You never went in with him, so you didn’t know what happens during them. Bucky never talked about what goes on either, he just says there’s progress to be made. You can tell he never wanted to go, but he did anyways. You just wanted him to get better, you wanted to put the incident behind you, you wanted your Bucky back.

Things had been so good between you and Bucky before that night. Bucky had finally started to feel like things were gonna be okay. Like things had just started to feel complete. Now everything was a mess and he felt like they couldn’t be fixed. He felt like you had given up and was only around because he had asked you to. He felt like he fucked everything up with his stupid truma and now things are screwed up. He didn’t know how to fix it, he didn’t know how to get better. Meetings were sort of a help though. He couldn’t tell his shrink everything that had happened to him, but he did tell her what he could. She wanted him to reflect and slowly take down his walls, but the problem was he didn’t know how. He didn’t wanna take down his walls and then have you freak out and leave him. He was scared that you’ll leave when you realized how fucked up he really was.

All he wanted was a normal life. He wish you existed back then, maybe he wouldn't have gone to war. Maybe you two would have grown old together and had a family. Hydra wouldn't have taken him and made him a monster. He wouldn’t have killed all those people. He would just have you. All he wanted was you.

Another Sunday came around and you two decided to get ice cream before his meeting. You sat across from him, a cup of vanilla ice cream in front of you, he had a cup of chocolate in front of him. He was fiddling with his glove covered hands on his lap. No one had spoken a word since you’ve ordered. You hated the constant silence, but you didn’t wanna force Bucky into talking.

You cleared your throat, gaining Bucky’s attention. “A puppy was adopted at the shelter yesterday.”

Bucky nodded, avoiding your strong gaze. You tensed up at his reaction. You weren't expecting him to talk, but it still hurt that he didn't even try, or even looked at you.

“The little girl who got her named her Yodda, she said it had big ears like Yodda.” You giggled at the memory of the cute little girl ranting about star wars. She had made you nervous at first, her small figure tapped on your back, demanding to see all the puppies they had in the shelter. She reminded you of your younger cousin back home.

Bucky ignored your words, still fiddling with his hands and ignoring your gaze. You bit your lip, holding back the tears that formed in your eyes. You were so sick of this. You were sick of the tense moments and hesitant touches. You were sick of holding back.

You pushed your ice cream away, standing up from your seat. You grabbed the money from your pocket setting it on the table. “You can finish, I’ll be outside.” You walk away, feeling Bucky’s eyes on you.

You step into the fresh air, hissing at the harsh winds. You cross your arms at your chest, waiting by the door for Bucky. You bit the inside of your cheek holding back the tears. All you wanted was things to go back to normal. You wanted to feel Bucky’s touch. The connection of the soulmate bond was making you go insane. The lack of love you felt from Bucky was making your chest ache.

A tear fell from your eye as Bucky appeared next to you. You quickly wiped it away, not wanting him to see, but it was too late, he already saw.

You cleared your throat avoiding his sad eyes. “I’ll meet you here after your meeting, I have to go work early.” You were lucky you lived in such a small town that everything was in walking distance. Since you couldn’t afford a car, you and Bucky walked everywhere.

Bucky nodded, biting on his bottom lip. He wanted to say he was sorry. He was sorry for being the worst soulmate ever and hurting you. He was sorry that you got a soulmate that came with so much baggage. He wanted you to have a normal life with a soulmate that could give you everything you deserved, but that was impossible, you were stuck with him.

~~~

Bucky had made it to his meeting on time. His counselor had decided to jump right in and make Bucky start from the beginning. He told her about how he enlisted and how he thought it was the right decision. He left out getting kidnapped and Steve, he barely remembered them anyways. He only remembered what it felt like, what it felt like to be in Hydra’s control. He only really remembered bits and pieces of a complicated story. He didn’t even know if he wanted to remember Steve. Every time Steve came up in his head he felt an ache in his stomach. He didn’t like to think about him.

“How are things at home?” She had asked after Bucky had finished telling her about his life as a soldier, how hard it was at first.

Bucky grunted. “I thought we were talking about something else.” Bucky never mentioned you to his counselor, he didn’t want to be reminded of how he fucked up with you.

“Yeah, but I wanna know more about your home life.” She suggested. “We don’t talk about that enough.”

Bucky clenched his jaw. “Because it’s none of your business.” He snapped. He didn’t mean to be rude, he just didn’t wanna talk about you, or anything to do with you.

She sighed, looking at him with strong eyes. “Do you want to get better?” She asked.

Bucky nodded without hesitation. Of course he wanted to get better, he wanted to be the person you deserved. He wanted to become a better man than he had been, he wanted to be the man who enlisted in the first place, the man with hope, the man who just wanted to save his country with his best friend. He thought you deserved to know that man.

“Why are you here Bucky?” She raised her eyebrows at him.

Bucky gave her a confused look, his eyebrows furrowed. “What do you mean? You know why I’m here.”

She nodded. “You have PTSD, but you didn’t come here on your own.” She paused. “I can see you don’t wanna be here.” She paused again. “So why are you here Bucky?”

Bucky hesitated, he didn’t want to tell her, he didn’t wanna face what he did, but he decided to say it anyways.

“I wanna be better for her.” He whispered, looking down at his hands.

“Her? You mean your soulmate?” She asked surprisingly. He never mentioned her, and she didn't ask him if he had one.

He nodded, clearing his throat. “I fucked up with her.” He admitted.

She gave him a sympathetic look. “What happened?” She asked softly.

Bucky let out a breath. He didn’t wanna think about it, he didn’t wanna remember the look on your face, or the sound of your cries. It was one of the biggest mistakes of his life. He wish he could take it back. Now everything was so fucked up.

“I didn’t mean too.” His voice cracked. “I don’t know what happened, I don’t remember anything.” He ran his hands over his face.

“You attacked her in your sleep didn’t you?” She asked. She already knew the answer though.

He nodded, holding back the tears in his eyes. “I didn’t mean too.” He looked at her with regretful eyes. “I told her I shouldn’t have stayed over.” He paused. “It was my fault for not realizing how bad it was.”

She shook her head. “It’s not your fault. It happens to a lot of patients with PTSD.” She tried to reassure him.

Bucky shook his head, clenching his jaw. “I knew the nightmares were bad, I should’ve stayed away.” He said harshly. “I’m bad for her. She deserves a soulmate who’s not fucked up.”

Bucky’s counselor sighed. “But the universe put you together for a reason. If she couldn’t handle your baggage, she wouldn’t be yours.” She paused. “It’s not your fault, you didn’t know what was gonna happen.” She tried to assure him.

“But-” She cut him off.

“Don’t think about what you should’ve done, think about how you’re gonna make it right.Think about how you’re gonna fix your mistakes, not dwell on them.”

Bucky shook his head. “I don’t think I can fix this.” Bucky was hard headed. He knew it was his fault, nothing could change his mind.

“I think you can.” She paused. “I know you can, but you’re not letting yourself fix it. You feel stuck, you feel like you fucked up, but you didn’t”

Bucky looked up at her, fire in his eyes. “What the hell do you know about how I feel.” He spat, the veins on his forehead appearing. “You don’t know how she looked at me.” He paused, the tears falling down his cheeks. “She was terrified, she was scared of me.” He paused again. “And she should be, I’m not good for her.” He looked down at his hands.

The counselor pulled her lip with her teeth, observing Buck’s broken state. “How does she look at you now?”

Buck’s eyes snapped up. “What do you mean?”

“Does she still look afraid to you?” She asked.

Bucky thought for a moment. He thought about the stares you shared, the constant tense movements. You never showed any signs of being afraid of him, but that couldn’t be true, he saw you flinch away every time he touched you, so he stopped touching you. He saw you tense up every time he dozed off, so he forced himself to stay awake every time they had a movie night.

“I know she is.” He stated.

“How do you know?” She questioned. Bucky stayed quiet, so she continued. “Going through something like that leaves some kind of trauma on a person. She can flinch away or tense up, but that doesn’t mean she’s afraid of you. She’s afraid of you turning into that person again, because that guy who choked her wasn’t you. It was someone different, someone she couldn’t recognize, she’s afraid of him, not you.”  

~~~

Bucky waited out in the cold, in front of the ice cream shop. His hands were shoved in his pockets and the hat that was placed on his head covered his eyes. He observed his surroundings to look for you. You’re usually not late, but he assumed the cafe was busy today. Bucky felt eyes on him.

He glanced in the direction, seeing a man in a suit, watching him intently. Bucky tensed up. He knew exactly who that man was. A man from Hydra, they finally found him. Bucky could feel the panic and fear settle into his stomach. He was afraid they had taken you. Is that why you were late? Because they had gotten a hold of you?

Before Bucky could march over and forcefully get the answers out of the man, you showed up in front of him. With red cheeks and bloodshot eyes. He knew you had been crying, and he felt his heart break knowing he was the cause of your cries.

“Sorry I’m late, there was a lot of people today.” You made up an excuse. Bucky didn’t look at you, he was too busy trying to catch a glimpse of what the man was doing.

You noticed Bucky’s tense figure. “What’s wrong?” You asked, you tried to touch his chest, but he flinched away.

He ignored your hurt look. “Can we go to my place instead?” Bucky didn’t want the man to follow them back to yours. It was better no one knew where you lived.

You shrugged. “Sure.”

Before you could continue, Bucky grabbed your arm, pulling you in the direction of his house. His steps were rushed, and he kept glancing back behind him.

“Why are we rushing?” You asked, trying to keep up. The grip he held on your arm was soft, he didn’t put any pressure on it. Almost like he was afraid of hurting you again.

“I just don’t wanna miss the Harry Potter marathon.” He lied.

Your face lit up. “There’s a Harry Potter marathon?” You asked excitedly. You loved those marathons, you could sit in one place all day watching with a box of pizza on your lap.

Bucky sighed in relief as he looked back to see that the man had disappeared. Hopefully you guys had lost him. But he knew that it wasn't the end. That man had saw him, and he was gonna come back, probably with more people. Bucky knew he needed to get the hell out of there, but the selfish part of him needed to stay. To stay with you where he felt more like himself than anywhere else. He knew that wasn’t possible though. Bucky let go of your arm, slowing down a little. You frowned at the loss of contact, it had been the longest he had touched you.

Bucky noticed your frown, biting the inside of his cheek. Maybe his counselor was right. Maybe you weren’t afraid of him, maybe you were just afraid of the winter soldier, the same man that tried to kill you. The same man that killed hundreds of people, the same man he was trying to bury deep down inside.

Bucky made a bold decision, he didn’t know how you would react, he was hoping it was a good reaction. He intertwined his fingers with yours, holding your hand by his side.

You gasped quietly at the sudden movement. Your lips curling into smile as you felt him squeeze our hand. You looked down at your perfectly fitted hands, a smile on your face. Bucky glanced at you, watching as you gave him a soft smile. Bucky could feel his chest warm up.

“Can we order pizza when we get there?” You asked.

Bucky nodded. “As long as it’s not the kind with vegetables on it.” Bucky grimaced at the memory of the disgusting pizza you wanted him to try.

You rolled your eyes, a smile still painted on your face. “Fine, we’ll just get peperoni.”

~~~

It was safe to say you were disappointed once you found out there was no Harry Potter marathon. When you arrived at Bucky’s apartment you immediately went to the TV while Bucky closed all the window curtains. You couldn’t keep the disappointed look off your face once Bucky told you he probably mistaken the day the marathon was supposed to come on.

Despite no marathon, Bucky still ordered a pizza while you put on a separate movie. You decided to show him one of your favorite disney movies, Monsters Inc.

“Why do they scare children?” Bucky had asked during the film. You furrow your eyebrows. You noticed Bucky was distracted throughout the movie. He kept sending you glances and looking at the windows. But you ignored his strange behavior, you just wanted to have a nice moment with him. You wanted it to be like usual, with cuddles and pizza.

You sat with the pizza box on your laps, Bucky’s flesh arm thrown over you. It was the closest you two had sat in a month and you couldn’t help but feel butterflies in your stomach.

“Because scaring them gives them the energy they need to keep the power running.” You say, taking a bite into the pepperoni pizza.

Bucky’s eyebrows furrowed. “I think we should go away.” He said. His comment made your eyes wide as you stare back at him. “Go away?” You asked, the movie becoming completely forgotten.

Bucky thought about it a lot, ever since he came home, knowing that hydra was out there. He knew he had to leave, and he knew he wasn’t gonna leave Y/N behind. He needed her in his life, she made him better. He knew the man from Hyra saw her, so he had to protect her, protect her from the danger he put her in, protect her from knowing the truth about him.

“Let’s leave this town, let’s go somewhere new.” He tried to convince her. He had to make her agree. He had to leave with or without her. Hydra was here and they were gonna get to him, he knew that for sure.

You didn't know what to say. You didn't know what to think. There was no doubt in your head that you would follow Bucky anywhere. You loved him, you wanted to stay with him, but your job was here, your family wasn't far from here. Your whole life was here, you just couldn't get up and leave. The selfish part of you wanted to go. That part of you wanted Bucky all to yourself, to leave and spend your life where ever he wanted to go. But the rational side of you knew you had to stay, you had responsibilities, you couldn't just drop everything and leave.

“Bucky I-” He cut you off. He had to convince you somehow. He needed you to leave with him, he needed you safe.

“Please.” He begged. His eyes held desperation. He needed you to say yes, he needed you to come with him, he needed you to stay safe.

“No.” You whispered.

*****************************************************

FEEDBACK IS NICE’

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[crazyfreckledginger]

Jason Todd x Reader x Damian Wayne - “On Good Terms”

Jason finally hints how much he is jealous of his girlfriend’s relationship with his youngest brother. After she finally realises how much she affects their ‘bond’, she is determined to help them reconnect with each other.

Requested on Wattpad: “Are you still accepting requests? If so could you do one for prompt 48 and 59″

Where Y/N is dating Jason, and Damian becomes clingy towards Y/N (you know a sisterly brotherly love clingy kinda way) where everywhere Y/N is Damian is naturally there as well which makes Jason super jealous and all (Since he didn't get any of affection like that from Dami, and he's basically stealing his girl xD), Thank you if ever you accept thy request *bows*

48. "You're ugly, I don't like you!"

59. "Do not fucking touch me!"

"Good morning babe," I chuckled, moving some hair out of Jason's face with my fingers before studying his features. His eyes were blinking uncontrollably, trying to get rid of the sleep that was still engulfing him. he released a low sound - between a moan and a groan before pulling me into his chest.

"Did you sleep well?" He grumbled in my hair. I hummed in response before pecking his jaw.

"Can't we have a lazy Sunday?" He asked as I sat up on the bed.

"Sorry baby, I'm going for a walk with Damian and Titus," I explained, putting my slippers on before standing up.

"Seriously? The demon?" 

"He's not a demon Jay, he's really sweet!"

"Only to you..." He grumbled again, his voice muffled by the pillow that had found it's way to his face once again.

"Are you jealous?" I teased, smirking down at him as he turned on his side to face me.

"NoOo." He stuttered quickly.

"Sure Jay," I chuckled.

"Why does he get all the attention babe? Since you became close after having to stitch him up when he got injured by Poison Ivy, he won't stop hogging you like you've been his sibling since forever!" He whined.

"Oh, baby, are you jealous because I don't pay enough attention to you or that Damian treats me with more love that he has with you in the past?" I soothed, cupping his cheek as I found myself in his lap.

His jaw tightened as he stared deeply into my orbs before looking away.

"Hey hon, it's okay, it'll happen eventually," I reassured, placing a small kiss on his cheek. He stuffed his head into my chest, releasing a few muffled, indistinguishable words. 

I laughed before trapping his lips into mine in a passionate kiss. One hand found its' way into my hair whilst the other gripped my waist. I moaned into his mouth as he pushed me onto the mattress, pressing his body onto mine.

"Take your clothes off!" He groaned, grinding into me. His hand released my hair and was now grasping my jaw, giving him the power he wanted. 

"(L/N)?" A voice muffled by our bedroom door asked. I gasped, pushing Jason off of me before scurrying to the door. I recomposed myself, making sure my hair was not too messy and my pyjamas were not undone. I took a deep breath before opening the door and smiling at the familiar figure in front of me.

"Hey, Dami!" I greeted.

"(L/N), why are you not ready? We were supposed to leave two minutes ago." He explained, looking down at his watch.

"I know Dami, I'm sorry I overslept." 

"It's okay, I'm just going for some water, I'll wait in the living room." He nodded before gesturing for Titus to follow him.

"Thank you," I sighed, shutting the door behind me and leaning against it. 

"Cockblock," I heard Jason grumble from the bed.

"Jason!" I scolded, walking up to the bed.

"What? We were fine before he showed up, and it would have been a lot more than just a makeout session if he hadn't-"

"I'll make it up to you baby alright?" I asked, sliding on a T-shirt before discarding my pyjama bottoms and putting jeans on.

"It's better be worth it," He smirked, checking me out in my outfit.

"Whatever you want for a month." I proposed, already knowing the answer.

"Really? Anything?" He challenged.

"Anything." I agreed before walking to the bathroom to brush my teeth.

**********

"Damian? Can I ask you a question?" 

"Of course," He smiled up at me as we walked on the sandy path, the hound tugging at the leash every now and again.

"Why are you and Jason not...closer?" 

"His presence is annoying. He is vulgar in his language and actions, he shows no respect for himself and women before you of course." He started.

"Don't you think it's because, you know, he's been through hell?" I asked, trying to drop a subtle hint.

"I do not understand what you are asking of me." He informed, sitting down on a bench as he let Titus run around before his attention was brought back to me, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"It's just that, I have a feeling that Jason is jealous that you warmed up to me faster and easier than you did to him, and I'm not saying that it's your fault or anything, but I feel like you can reconnect, you have more in common that Tim and Dick," I explained, hoping that I had not just driven him away.

Unlike how I had expected him to react, he actually thought about it. There had always been tension between the two: Jason wanting some couple bonding time and Damian wanting some 'sister-brother' bonding time if you can call it that. I would even say that the fact that I had dropped into their lives had driven them away from each other. I would be lying if I said that it wasn't bothering me. But I was determined to be the complete opposite. 

"I'll consider it." He informed after a while. I smiled, nodding eagerly, at least the subject wasn't dropped right then and there.

********

"Babe, you're back!" Jason greeted, engulfing me in a hug.

"Yeah," I chuckled, returning the hug. "Dami's staying for lunch," I notified. 

"What?" He yelled, seeing Damian making his way into the living room.

"Why are you yelling Todd? I'm right here?" 

"You're ugly, I don't like you!" He retorted.

"Jason!!" I scolded, staring at him in disbelief.

"Get out demon, you've had your time with my girl!" He ordered, pointing a finger at the younger boys' chest.

"Do not fucking touch me!" He cursed, slapping his hand away.

"Okay, both of you, stop it!" I shouted. We were engulfed by a deep silence, two pairs of eyes on me.

"Jason, a word," I ordered calmly. He nodded, following me into the bedroom.

"Show some respect to your brother," 

"He's the one that's eating time on our relationship." He ranted.

"No Jason, I brought him here so both of you could start bonding like normal brothers, I love both of you so much and I can't lose one of you, so I'm trying for both of you to get along. When you'll both be older, you'll realise how great it can be to have a brother that you can connect with in your own way and you'll regret it your entire life!" I went on, taking a deep breath to calm myself down from the rush of emotions that I was feeling.

"I want this to work Jay, I really do." I finished, the words coming out as a whisper now. I heard my boyfriend sigh and pinch the bridge of his nose in the corner of my eye.

"I'll make it work, thank you, baby." He smiled, cupping my cheeks before placing his lips on mine. I hugged him as he laid his head on mine.

"She's a keeper, Todd." We heard a voice inform from the living room.

"I know, I know." He chuckled.

"Baby steps." I sighed, hopeful that this could work.

Reblogs and comments are deeply appreciated!

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Tagging: @lumifuer​ @ijustwantmyshipstobehappy​ @xlatinaaxx​ @plethora-of-things​ @ohhthatsjxsontodd

[isolavirtuosa]

Plead

[fanfiction] NaruSasu

Asexual Sasuke and Divorced Naruto starring in “The Long Awaited ‘Sex’ Scene”.

Works as a standalone, or read the previous parts here.

           We stared at each other from across the room.

           Naruto was sitting stiffly on the futon, seiza-style with his hands clenched into fists as they rested on his knees.  The bulge was unmistakable.

           “You look stupid,” I informed him as I peeled an orange.

           “Rude.”

           I shrugged and took a bite.  “Isn’t that what you want me to do?  Belittle you while you belittle yourself?”

           “B-b-belittle myself?!” he sputtered.  “That’s the worst euphemism I’ve ever heard!”

           I shrugged again.  I took another bite and tried to hide the shaking of my hand.

           Naruto started chewing on his bottom lip.

           “This is a terrible idea,” I finally said.

           “It was your idea!” Naruto cried, flailing his arms around.

           “Was it?” I asked, tilting my head to the side.

           “Bastard!  Yes!  I would never…  Take some damn responsibility for your own actions!”

           I shrugged, and he just about lost it.  I looked away so he couldn’t see my smile.

           “Fine, I get it!” he sulked.  “I’ll go take a long, cold shower.  Alone.” He stood up dramatically.

           “Sit down,” I said evenly.

           He paused.

           I looked to him, raising an eyebrow.

           He sat down slowly, finally taking on a more relaxed posture.

           I took a bite of my orange.  A little bit of juice dripped down the curve of my thumb.  I frowned and caught it with my tongue.

           Naruto let out a strangled breath.

           I didn’t even have to try with him, I just had to exist and he was putty in my hands.

           Or putty across the room, as the case may be.

           “Well?” I said.

           “W-w-well what?” he stammered.

           “Are you going to get on with it?”

           He was blushing so hard that the tips of his ears had gone red.

           I couldn’t help the softening of my smile.

           He smiled, too.  “This is kinda harder than I thought.”

           “Is that supposed to be a double entendre?” I asked, leaning on the table. I rested my chin on my hand and watched him.

           “No, I think it’s the opposite,” he said, looking down at his crotch.  “The corporal needs a little encouragement.”

           “You can do it, little corporal,” I encouraged.

           “Why are you so horrible to me?!” he complained, but he squirmed and readjusted himself.

           “Little is a term of endearment,” I said, keeping my eyes on him.  I felt more comfortable than I’d thought I would. Naruto’s embarrassment helped.

           “Big is a better term of endearment,” he suggested.

           “Are you my big boy?” I scoffed.

           “Yes,” he said, sticking out his lip in a pout.

           I sniffed at that.  “You are an overgrown child, that’s for sure.”

           His hand settled on his thigh.  He rubbed his leg absently.

           “You can touch it,” I said.

           He retracted his hand, looking startled.

           “Do you not want to?” I asked.

           He licked his lips nervously.  “No, I want to, I just…  You’re sure?”

           “I’ll tell you when to stop,” I said.  Because it had been my idea, and we were going to do this.  We were going to have sex.

           From across the room, obviously.

           “Okay,” Naruto said, taking a deep breath.  He moved his hand back to his thigh and hesitated.

           “Are you always this bad at jerking off?” I asked.  “Is that why you’re so sexually frustrated?”

           “I’m awesome at jerking off!” he snapped back at me.

           “Is that something to be proud of?” I asked with a laugh, even as he started rubbing himself vigorously.

           “I’m very manly and virile,” he asserted.

           I leaned back on my arm and watched him.  I didn’t feel disgusted like I used to, mostly just amused.  It was such a base, animal state that Naruto was in, and I was the one who had reduced him to it.  “How long is this going to take?” I complained.

           “You know these things take time!”

           “No, no idea,” I said.

           “You’ve really never jerked off?” he asked, eyeing me suspiciously even as his hand kept moving.  “You’ve just never had an erection in your entire life?”

           “I ignore them until they go away,” I said with a shrug.

           Naruto looked at me aghast.  “That’s not how it works!”

           “Works fine for me.”

           “I would never ignore you, Corporal,” he murmured soothingly to his penis.

           “Get on with it,” I groaned, sitting up and taking another orange from the bowl.

           “It takes time,” he said, gritting his teeth at me.  “And it takes even more time when he’s nervous.”

           “I’m sorry, love, do I make you nervous?” I asked with a snort.  I hated that Naruto made me laugh in such an undignified way, but it was derisive enough that I could ignore the indignity of it.

           The color red that he turned was pleasing.  “You know, I’ve had just about enough of you!” he cried, turning his back to me and taking something out from under his pillow.

           I waited.

           And waited.

           He moaned softly and the sound of a zipper opening sliced through the air.

           “What are you looking at?” I ventured, feeling ignored and a little sour about it.

           “The real Sasuke,” he murmured distractedly.

           “The real Sasuke is right here,” I said with a glare.

           “You just don’t understand me like he does,” he said, waving the signed photo of me that I’d given him to keep him company.

           “Oh my god you’re such a loser,” I groaned.  “Look at me.”

           “No way.”

           “Why the hell not?”

           “It’s embarrassing!”

           “So you look at a picture of me instead?!”

           “It’s my comfort zone.”

           “Look at me, you usuratonkachi.”

           Naruto glanced at me over his shoulder, chewing on his bottom lip.

           I stared at him and ate my orange.

           “Saaaaasuke,” he whined.  His breath had gotten shuddery.

           “Yes?”

           “Why do you make everything you do so erotic?” he complained, eyes glued to my fingers as they moved from the table to raise a piece of orange to my lips.

           “I think you’re just a pervert,” I said, taking a bite.

           His eyes followed every movement of my lips.  He suddenly shook his head, like he was breaking a genjutsu.  “No, absolutely not, it’s not normal!  A normal human isn’t that damn sensual!”

           “So you’re saying I’m not a normal human?” I asked.

           He finally turned his whole body back towards me, pointing an accusing finger in my direction.  “Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying, you erotic nightmare!”

           I blinked slowly.

           Naruto suddenly seemed to realize that his dick was flopping out of his pants for all the world to see, and quickly covered it with both hands.

           “I have seen it before,” I said, finishing the orange and licking the tip of my thumb clean.

           “I… this is different!” he said, turning back around abruptly.

           I hadn’t really thought that I would get much out of having “sex”, but apparently I’d been missing out on a very vital activity for my life.  “Naruto.”

           “…what?”

           “I’m enjoying this.”

           “Enjoying my misery?”

           I smiled.  “Yes.”

           He looked at me over his shoulder.

           “Are you almost done?” I asked.

           “If you keep looking at me like that, yeah.”

           “Looking at you like what?”

           “…like you love me.”

           “I do love you, stupid,” I said, unable to keep the fondness out of my voice.

           Naruto whimpered.

           “Just like that,” I encouraged him.

           “Sas’…”

           I watched him unravel, and it felt good.  I made him like this.  He was arguably the most powerful man in the world, and he came apart at my whim.

           “Sasuke… Sasuke…” he panted, his eyes fixed on me as he pleaded.

           “You’re okay,” I said.  “Finish up.”

           He closed his eyes when he did, and I wished he’d kept them open.  I thought that one day I might like to touch his face while he did, thumbing along his permanent five o’clock shadow and holding him patiently until he was done.

           Not today, though.  He still had his back to me, and I didn’t want him to turn around, didn’t want to see that sticky disgusting mess.  For the first time since we’d started I got that uncomfortable feeling again in the pit of my stomach.

           Then Naruto opened his eyes and smiled so gently at me.  “You good?” he asked.

           “Yeah,” I said, because I was.  “Clean yourself up.”

           “I don’t get to bask a little?”

           “Don’t be disgusting,” I said.

           “How is that disgusting?!”

           “Because I was thinking that maybe we could… sit close together… in a lying position… for a while…” I trailed off.

           “We get to cuddle?!” he asked, getting excited.

           “Not if you’re going to be gross.”

           “I’m very not gross!” he said, pulling a wad of tissues from the box next to the futon and wiping vigorously.

           I decided I didn’t want to watch the cleanup and went to the kitchen to make some tea.

           Naruto joined me, all put back together, though a little sweaty.  He took his tea and added sugar.  His cheeks were still flushed, and he kept looking at me shyly.

           The look wasn’t sexual at all.  It was just contented and loving, and he didn’t make me regret what we’d done.

           I leaned in and kissed his temple.

           His eyes got a little misty.

           “Come on,” I said, putting down my empty teacup and taking his hand.

           We lay together on the futon, Naruto tucked in my arm, and we just talked as the sun slowly rose in the sky.

           At some point Naruto had to make the stupid comment of, “hey, now you can count the number of times you’ve had sex on two hands!”  I shoved him away, but somehow I wasn’t mad at all and we ended up drifting back together, enjoying the rest of our lazy Sunday morning.

[otherworldink]

Intro to "Woodworking"

Where do you go when you live in a tiny medieval fantasy village and need some basic sex ed? The woodshop apparently. Results may vary. Includes frank, if humorous, discussions of sexuality.

Read it below the cut, or continue reading on: Wattpad or Otherworld.Ink

Bren had never liked sharing personal information. He believed in the twin virtues of privacy and minding your own damn business, and he acted accordingly. Unfortunately, he'd come up against a problem that required advice. Expert advice.

And there was only one place in his backwater village he could get it.

The carpenter's workshop was a pleasantly open building with large windows that let in the light and broad double doors that could allow the passage of a finished table or bed frame. The scent of fresh-cut pine and the subtler scents of hardwoods permeated the air. In every corner there stood half-completed projects, from the disassembled pieces of little boxes to uncut slabs with measurements drawn in charcoal. Bren could even see a small spoked wheel, half-sanded—a spare for the wheeled chair Kole's father used.

Mercifully, the only people inside were the shop's two owners. The most conspicuous of the pair was Dorin, whose height and breadth led some to suspect he had a touch of giant blood somewhere in his ancestry. He sat hunched over a pair of carved wooden fawns, adding the last fine details with a small chisel.

Hale looked slight compared to his husband, but this was just an optical illusion. A point that was reinforced as the man casually lifted a slab of wood that must have weighed as much as Bren did. It was impressive, but not why Bren was here.

"Hi, Bren!" Hale greeted, looking up from examining the marks on the wood slab. "Did your mother change her mind on the dimensions for that shelf? I was just about to make the first cut."

"No, no. It's not about that. I just... I need some advice."

"Oh? Thinking of taking up woodworking?" Hale asked, half joking.

In his nervousness, Bren replied with a poor joke of his own.

"Different kind of 'wood' to be working with."

There was a pause as Hale processed. Then he grinned like someone had handed him a new chisel.

"I knew it! It's Kole, isn't it? That nice half-elf boy?"

Bren's ears burned, and his eyes glued themselves to the floor.

"It is!" Hale dropped the wood slab in his eagerness, shaking the ground on impact. He didn't seem to notice. "Tell me everything! What do you need to know?"

The excitement was not mutual. Bren had resolved to ask for help with the same enthusiasm one used to ask the blacksmith to pull a bad tooth. Mercifully, Dorin only looked mildly interested, sparing just a glance before continuing his carving.

"Look, I'm not here to share details. I just need to know how some things work, and I figure you two..." Bren glanced back and forth between the pair then cleared his throat. "Yeah."

"Right, right." Hale nodded with exaggerated understanding. "No need to overshare. ...Unless you want to, of course."

Hale wasn't the worst gossip Bren knew—that title went to Mrs. Fields who owned the mill—but Bren still thought he took a bit too much pleasure in having his nose in everyone's business.

"I just need to know how some things work."

"Like what?" Hale tapped his chin. "Don't tell me you need to know what goes where? I should have some blank paper around here if you need me to draw diagrams. I can think of a few positions that would be good for beginners."

"No! No, I already know about that stuff." Kind of. A bit. In any case, Bren didn't think his dignity could survive diagrams. "I just need to know about... logistics. Like how you figure out who, you know... tops."

It was hard to get the words out, and he regretted it as soon as he had. It felt like such a stupid question, like it was something he should already know instinctively. People certainly had their own ideas about how these things worked, but Bren and Kole were about the same age, height, and build so it was hard to say that any of the usual "guidelines" applied.

To his surprise, Dorin answered first.

"I wouldn't worry too much about that," he said without looking up. "Just see what feels right when you get to that point. You can take turns trying or, hells, even flip a coin for it. There's more to sex than putting your dick in a hole. Focus on making each other feel good, and the rest will sort itself out."

That... actually sounded sensible. Reassuring, even. Maybe Bren had been making a big deal out of nothing.

"No, no, no! Hold on a minute, babe." Hale quickly covered Dorin's ears. "Listen to me, Bren: you are at a crossroads right now. This is where you set the tone for your entire relationship. You have a unique chance to secure the best position all for yourself. You have to be the bottom!"

Dorin snorted, but made no move to remove the hands from his head. Hale ignored him and continued.

"Topping is a fool's game! If you want to feel something around your dick, you can have your own hand any time. But when you want to get fucked, what are you supposed to do? Oh, you can try certain vegetables, and I've certainly carved a few things in the right shape, but then you've still got to do all the work yourself, and-"

Dorin cleared his throat, interrupting the deluge of far-too-personal information. A mercy, given that Bren was on the verge of bursting into awkward flames and disintegrating into the floor.

"Hush!" Hale scolded his husband. "I'm passing on my wisdom. And you can't hear right now!"

He returned his earnest attention to Bren. "What I'm saying is, no matter what anyone tells you, it is surprisingly hard to 'go fuck yourself'. If you ever get the opportunity to have someone else do it, do not pass it up!"

"He's only saying that because he's lazy in bed," Dorin said, apparently giving up on withholding personal information. Hale made an offended noise.

"You! You can't hear, remember!"

Bren wished he couldn't hear anything.

"Is there anything useful you can tell me, or should I just leave?"

"Always use oil," Dorin said, finally brushing Hale's hands away from his ears. "More than you think you need. It makes everything more pleasant."

"Except for oral!" Hale added.

"Yeah. Except that."

"Okay, that's... good to know," Bren said. "So, like, the oil you use on tools, or...?"

"NO!" The objection came from both of them simultaneously.

Dorin cleared his throat.

"Ah, no. Different oil."

Hale grimaced.

"Otherwise you're in for an awkward trip to the healer."

Bren could tell there was a story there. A story he absolutely never needed to hear.

"Then... what kind are you supposed to use?" And where could he get it? Ideally without anyone guessing what he intended to use it for.

"We'll send you off with something," Dorin said. "It's better than you getting desperate and using whatever's on hand."

"Trust us on that," Hale added.

On this matter, Bren would.

In short order, the two set him up with a small jar of oil and instructions on where to discretely buy more. He also found himself holding the two fawns.

"You can pay us back by delivering them," Dorin explained. "They're for Leda on the other side of town."

"They're actually for her daughter," Hale added. "Leda hopes that if the kid has some nice toy fawns, she'll stop trying to bring home the real ones she finds out in the fields."

The palm-sized fawns were impressively lifelike: one curled flat and low like it was hiding in the grass, the other half-sprawled, pushing itself up on delicate forelimbs with its ears pricked alertly. Bren wasn't sure they'd be enough to persuade a determined child to give up the real thing, but they might come close.

Dorin offered some parting words.

"I don't think you have anything to worry about. Just take it slow, listen to each other, and have fun."

"And for fuck's sake, let him top!" Hale added, unable to help himself.

Bren mumbled something approaching a polite goodbye and hurriedly retreated with the fawns, the oil, the advice, and what remained of his dignity.

His initial plan had been to make the delivery and retreat home to bury his face in his pillow until the embarrassment receded, but fate was not so accommodating. Less than halfway across town, he spotted Kole at the blacksmith's shop, saying his goodbyes. Bren paused on reflex, and when Kole turned away from the workshop, he spotted him.

Kole smiled—partly bashful, entirely charming—and Bren's stomach flipped.

Kole had moved into town a few months back with his parents: an elven mother and a human father who had recently survived an unpleasant encounter with a wyvern. Years ago, Hale had made a wheeled chair for his elderly aunt, and since then, anyone within a week's travel who needed one would order from him.

The family had made the journey to have the chair properly fitted and had ended up staying. Something about wanting to live "somewhere quiet" and enjoying the "lovely pastoral scenery". Which all sounded like nice euphemisms for "boring", but Bren supposed boring might be what you wanted after getting mauled by a wyvern.

"They're cute," Kole said, nodding at the carved fawns in Bren's hands.

"They're not mine!" Bren said hastily. "I'm just delivering them."

"Right." Kole's gaze lowered. "What's that?"

Bren realized, with some alarm, that he was looking at the bottle of oil sticking out of his trouser pocket. He hadn't thought it would be a problem since there was nothing suggestive about it's appearance, but he hadn't prepared for anyone to ask about it!

"Nothing!" His voice came out slightly more panicked than intended.

Amusement flickered on Kole's face, as if he could tell Bren was hiding something but was nice enough not to call him out on it.

"Who are you delivering them to?" Kole asked, mercifully turning the conversation back to the wooden fawns.

This was why Kole was the actual best. He had the decency to let things lie. (Or, at least, to let Bren lie to save some face.)

"Leda. They're for her daughter."

"Oh yeah. The little 'fawn-napper'." Kole chuckled. "Do you need help delivering those?"

"No, they're not heavy or anything." It was only after he'd said this that he realized Kole was making an excuse to join him. "Uh... I mean, you could..."

"I could carry one? In case you need a free hand."

"Yeah. That'd be good."

Kole accepted one of the fawns and fell in step next to Bren.

The two of them had been intimate before, but always alone. Bren was too much a private person to allow anything else. But when Kole casually laid a hand on Bren's lower back, Bren really couldn't bring himself to object. It felt... nice. And it's not like anyone was paying special attention to them.

Did he mention it felt nice?

Given where Bren had just come from, it was impossible not to reflect on the recent conversation. He tried to keep his thoughts decent, out of respect for the carved fawn in his hands. It was far too innocent for anyone to be having those kinds of thoughts around it.

Still, though...

Maybe Hale had a point.

[darknessdancing]

Whirlwind Chapter Two

Hey y’all! I am finally getting chapter two up. Sorry it has taken so long. I am v forgetful and lazy! I really hope you guys like this. I am really excited for this fic and just writing it makes me happy so i hope reading it makes you guys happy! enjoy!!

warnings: kinda angsty, warning, mentions of slutting around (im looking at you xiu) smut/mentions of smut

“I know, I know. I’m so sorry love, I really did want today to be an us day, but you and I both know this can’t be ignored baby,” You cooed apologetically to Suho. Your arms were around his waist and you were standing on your tiptoes to rest your chin on his shoulder. You nuzzled the side of his face with your nose.

“I know, I know… I just wish it wasn’t this way. I was really looking forward to a day with just the two of us. It has been so long since we have had one of those,” He sighed.

“I understand,” You said sighing as well, “I love you, Junmyeon.”

He smiled at the use of his real name and turned around pulling you into his warm, welcoming arms.

“I love you too, Y/N,” He kissed you, “So much.”

You smiled brightly at him and kissed him deeply.

“As much as I love a good kiss, since it's not me, we gotta go,” Baekhyun said. Suho glared at him and bared his teeth, something Baekhyun took as a sign to leave. You giggled and shook your head.

“Come on, Daddy, let's go,” you coaxed, smacking his ass as you walked out the door.

“One more,” he said pulling you back against him, spinning you around. He kissed you lovingly.

“Alright, alright. Now we go,” You said kissing his cheek and finally walking out. You got into the main living room of the house where all of the boys were now standing.

“Alright is everyone clear on what to do? Get in get out. Should be a pretty cut and dry “steal back our drugs” type of show,” you told them while placing a gun in it’s holster on your outer thigh, beneath the holster for throwing knives. To say you were armed and dangerous was an understatement. The boys were all armed in similar fashion, each carrying more than enough protection. A symphony of ‘yes’ filled your ears, followed by the sound of soles hitting wooden flooring as everyone quietly filed to the side door.

“It’s been ages since you’ve gone on a retaliation with us, Whirlwind,” Chen teased after matching your pace, “You’re so hidden sometimes, I forget that you’re even handy with that pistol. I’d be lying if I hadn’t lost faith for a while.”

For a moment, you smiled fondly to yourself at the familiar nickname. You let it linger for a bit, even as you stepped out into the brisk air of your large garage. With Baekhyun’s head blocking your view, you could still see the shiny rims of all ten sports cars and two vans.

“I can always blow your brains out as a reminder, if that’s really what you need,” you joked casually, “And if this is what you consider a retaliation, maybe I should be losing faith in you.”

He only rolled his eyes in a playful manner in response to the small jab.

The conversation was broken up by Sehun shouting that the back of the white van was open to whoever was sitting in the large space, and that he was driving this time. You laughed and got into the driver’s seat of the black Lamborgini. You drove off, the boys following closely behind.

Your mind began to drift as you drove to the mansion of Girl’s Generation, one of your biggest enemies in this world. You couldn’t find a speck of remorse in yourself, but the constant feuding grew so tiring after a while. Now, it felt as though you were only battling so you wouldn’t have the burden of admitting to a loss. Your team only ever made an effort to strike at them when it was warranted, such as right now.

They had apparently felt threatened enough by your drug business, they wanted to steal your product and sell it as their own. Luckily, you had contacts and ways of knowing things like these.

You parked your car a few blocks from the house and went to where the boys had parked their van. After crawling through the seemingly endless brush and trees that concealed the battered heap of metal, you got in and started to run over the plan with them one final time.

Baekhyun and Chanyeol were to monitor the security cameras, while Chen and Kai part ways to find where the drugs were being kept. Sehun and Kyungsoo agreed to eliminate any human threats on their way to their to-be-informed destination, and Xiumin was making sure the leaders were being kept busy, through other means of distraction. Earlier, you had made jokes of him being a prostitute for the time being, to which he only scowled.

Opposing teams or not, Kim Taeyeon and Jessica Jung had expressed quite the interest in the man, which he had offered to take advantage of, just this once.

“Of course,” he had said earlier, “I’d do it for the sake of the group, but leave it to me to be caught up fucking two dumb bitches while the real action plays out.”

You and Suho were the cleaners, the backup plan; the ones who---if something went wrong---entered and fixed the problem. You hadn’t been big on being so useless, but Kyungsoo and Xiumin had thought it best to keep the leaders away from harm in case something were to happen to them.

Directly after helping Chen and Kai to swipe all the heroin and cocaine, Kyungsoo and Sehun were to set the house ablaze; it was highly probable that something harmful may happen to anyone who fails to escape in time.

The house was surrounded by a large, electrified, black iron fence. From the comfort of the van, you watched as Xiumin simply walked up to it and pushed his finger down onto the intercom button. He spoke a greeting into the mic, followed by the fence pushing itself open.

Whereas everyone else wasn’t as welcome in the large mansion, you were forced to wait around ten minutes before approaching the fence. Within those ten minutes, Baekhyun and Chanyeol had worked together to disable the security cameras positioned atop it, making it far easier to break in.

Donning a pair of thick protective gloves and handling a pair of wire cutters, Chen easily disabled it and allowed everyone to hop over the structure.

With a swift hand motion, you coaxed Kyungsoo and Sehun to rid the team of the guards positioned in the lawn. While they crept behind massive statues and thick trees, the remainder of your group crouched in some bushes, hidden from the world.

After the signal was given that the guards were finished off, you all stealthily moved into the house. From the corners of your eyes, you could see the splattered blood of the two women who laid by the entrance. It was likely that they hadn’t felt a thing when the knife hit their throats; they had been knocked out prior.

Some of the men entered the building through side doors and some used windows. You and Suho moved cautiously moved into the living room, the area that would quickly give you access to all the others and their positions. With a bit of difficulty, you managed to close the door without any creaking sounds.

“Remember when you almost dated a Girls Gen girl?” You whispered to him quietly. Even in the darkness you saw him flinch in remembrance. You chuckled softly in response.

“Chen and Kai, it should be in a room on the third floor,” Baekhyun’s voice floated lowly through your earpiece, “Off to the left somewhere… maybe the fifth door along the hallway.”

“You and I can fuck right here, you know,” You suggested, disregarding the speech that didn’t involve either of you, “I think that’d surely make Yuri regret ever rejecting you.”

The most barely audible groan came, and you could just picture Suho biting his lip to keep from exposing your presence to the home’s residents.

“As hard as it is not to entertain your vengeful wishes, I'd rather not risk getting caught with my pants down and my cock out, Princess.”

“Found it,” came Kai’s preoccupied mumble in your ear. You heard clicking as they tried to open what sounded like a safe.

“The one time you find your self restraint...” You trailed off in a quiet, teasing tone.

“Okay,” Chanyeol interrupted through the earpiece, “Xiumin’s tracker is lighting up on the other side of the house, by the hedge statue things and back a few feet. It’s, uhhhh, moving rapidly right now, so you have until it comes to a stop to drop everything from the window. Baekhyun and I will handle everything else.”

“I’m sending Chen and Kai out as soon as possible, out through one of the side doors to help you out,” came Kyungsoo’s gruff reply, “Just let me know when Xiumin is safely out.”

For thirty quiet minutes that trickled past like grains of sand falling to the bottom of an hourglass, you sat with Suho and waited.

Nothing that was of concern to you popped up until three minutes after Xiumin had walked past you and out the front door. It had sounded like he was zipping up his jeans as he walked.

None of the women followed after him, as they were probably focused on washing themselves up.

After three minutes, you began to smell the thick clouds of smoke that had drifted down to the living room. For security, you did your best to spot Suho through the pitch darkness. The moment you’d gotten clarity that Kyungsoo and Sehun were out of the house, you two would be sprinting to safety.

“Discovered!” Chen yelled. You and Suho looked at each other and ran up the stairs to where they were.

You crouched at the entrance of the room where you could here the fight going on. Suho was crouched opposite of you, his gun loaded and cocked. You started counting backwards from three on your fingers. On one you both stood in the doorway and started shooting the men who were cornering two of your boys.

“I want everyone else to go back to the van right now,” You commanded into your earpiece.

“Yes ma’am,” They all said.

“Here’s our plan, take out whoever comes near and get back to the plan. No splitting up. Let’s go,” You said running out the door. Suddenly alarms started blaring throughout the whole house.You groaned and covered your ears.

“Someone triggered the security system,” you heard Baek say through the earpiece.

You started running through the house but metal doors were starting to slide into place. You cursed and lead the boys through more hallways being met with dead ends. You all finally found a doorway into a room with multiple windows, but the metal door was slowly sliding into place and the shouts of the Girl’s Gen men neared. You pushed Kai and Chen under and went to go push Suho.

“There’s only enough room left for one more person; you’re going,” He said pushing you. The shouting came nearer.

“No, Suho, I am not leav---” You were interrupted as he shoved you to the ground and under the door. The yells were on you and Suho. You screamed to tell Suho to dive under, but you knew there was no way he’d fit.

“I love you,” You heard him say as you watched the men surround him and tase him, bringing him to his knees in pain. You screamed out his name and fought against the door. Kai and Chen pulled you back from the door. Chen opened the window as Kai struggled to pick you up. You all escaped out the window and made it back to the van.

The atmosphere hung full-cloud heavy and pin-drop silent as everyone else present came to the shocking realization that Suho hadn’t made it out.

A deafening clatter broke the quiet into a million pieces within the three seconds it took your closed fist to come into contact with the vehicle’s cool metal and the sharp pain to set into your knuckles.

But you didn’t want to stop. As Sehun pushed his foot down onto the gas pedal and sped off, all you wanted to do was pulverize the van until your skin blossoms a blotchy plum color.

A cry left your lips. And another. And a third, until it was difficult to hear the shocked chatter that had begun to swarm around you.

“Baby,” Chanyeol started hesitantly. Your temper was like a hot iron---to be used with caution and to avoid direct contact with, “Junmyeon’s strong. He’ll hold his own.”

You didn’t feel like the iron. You felt like the burn. The use of Suho’s birth-given name was meant to sooth your visible pain, but all it did was turn the faucet to a steady stream of bitter tears.

“Oh, fuck off,” you dismissed him in a quiet mutter.

Truly, you wished you were more skilled in concealing such lethal feelings. Having seven---and occasionally eight, whenever Sehun worriedly glances through the rearview mirror---men watch you cry isn’t any fun. You think it makes you look weak, like a joke.

An arm wrapped around your shoulders. With your eyes squeezed shut so painfully tight, you could only guess which lover it was. You were too focused on dismissing the little outburst that you didn’t even attempt to. From the foresty cologne alone, you knew it was D.O. Everyone else wore less comforting fragrances; things that slightly assaulted your sense of smell.

He said nothing, but it didn’t feel as frightened as the silence everyone else gave. Everyone silent was breathing dreadfully slowly, cautiously even, like they were waiting for an explosion. D.O, however, kept his breathing at a calm, steady pace.

This was what you loved about him. He never participated in the nervous blocks of quiet, for he was already so peacefully. You both don’t need many words for your relationship to remain strong. He was a rock regardless of his infrequent speech.

“Try and go to sleep,” he murmured over the low whispers everyone else had faded into, “We’ll have planning to do later; you need to be rested enough.”

Though he only spoke of a meeting to plan things, you were certain it was about the best strategy to get Suho back.

You drifted off with that thought in mind, keeping close that single bit of comfort it provided.

[toyboy-molloy]

shelolly + 5

I’ve finally fucking done it and it’s not worth the wait, I’m afraid. hope you like it anyway, sorry it took so long x

5. one night stand and falling pregnant au

October 14th was easily Molly Hooper’smost favourite date, the day she welcomed her first child, a daughter Evelyn Violet,after a gruelling eighteen-hour labour. She knew deep down she was biased butMolly felt certain that Evie was the most beautiful baby she’d ever seen. Herwide blue eyes surveyed the world around her, gazing in awe up at her mother;it was very clear baby Evie was the spitting image of her father. She held herdaughter close, rocking her gently as she murmured loving words into her skin;the sweet moment was interrupted by John Watson.

“Hi…” he greeted warmly, traipsing into the privateroom; he looked exhausted and Molly couldn’t help but feel guilty. Even if hewas quicker than the paramedics, it was no excuse. Still, he looked delightedto see them, “how are you doing?”

“Fine…” Molly replied, stroking her daughter’scheek. The emotion of the day caught up with her yet again and she sniffed, “just…justa bit teary.”

“That’s normal,” the army doctor reassured, takinga swig of the coffee he’d brought with him. He replaced the cup on her bedsidetable before gesturing at the baby girl, “do you mind if I-“

“Not at all.”

John gently lifted baby Evie, cooing softly at her;she was tiny, delicate and perfect, sweet and loveable just like her mum. Yet,she was so focused on her surroundings and curious about her new world Johnalready knew she was going to take after her dad. Well, at least in appearance.He could only hope…

It sounded ridiculous, even to Molly, but for thefirst time she felt peaceful, just lying in Sherlock’s bed with his armswrapped tightly around her. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew they’dmade a mistake; they’d been out celebrating Sherlock’s birthday at theirfavourite cake shop before returning to Baker Street, where they’d maybeconsumed one or two glasses of wine? Whatever the reason, they’d ended upspending the night together.

She stirred, realising she was clutching his handthat was wrapped firmly around her. Smiling, Molly gently attempted to extractherself and disappear before he awoke; she told herself it was better that way.Neither of them could cope with a relationship, not that he’d want one – yeah,she almost believed that. She’d just about freed herself when his griptightened and he nuzzled her ear, mumbling sleepily.

“You’re not getting away that easily.”

Molly relaxed in his hold, heaving out a deep sigh,“we shouldn’t have done that.”

“Maybe not…” Sherlock said with a yawn. He finallyremoved his arm, rolling onto his back; Molly shifted position, holding thesheet to chest as she leaned on her elbow to face him. His hair wasdelightfully mussed and he wore nothing but a lazy smile on his face, “I’mfinding it difficult to regret it.”

“Good birthday, then?” She asked cheekily, swipinga smear of chocolate icing from his shoulder and popping her finger into hermouth.

Sherlock smirked, reaching over to mimic her actionwith the chocolate spread across her throat; his look was positively sinful ashe sucked his finger, “looks like it…”

And there was the awkward silence. Molly lookedaway, blushing as she located her clothes in a haphazard pile by the door. Justas she considered grabbing them and running for the bathroom, Sherlock threwback the covers and wrapped his dressing gown around himself.

“Breakfast?”

Molly blinked, sitting upright and clutching thesheet to her chest, “I-I’m sorry?”

“Would you like breakfast?” He repeated, handingher his spare camel-coloured dressing gown, “I’m sure Mrs. Hudson would-”

“No, thanks,” she said politely, bunding herself inthe far too large yet extremely comfortable article. She wriggled out of bedand set about gathering her clothes, “I think I’ll just…have a shower and be onmy way. If you don’t mind.”

“What an excellent idea.”

Before she could say anything else, Sherlock hadtaken her hand and was pulling her towards the bathroom; this was turning outto be a much better morning than she’d had in mind. By the time John Watsonreturned to the flat – having returned to his flat with his wife, Mary – thetwo had showered and shared a brief breakfast; he chose to enter the flat theprecise moment Molly stood on her tiptoes to kiss Sherlock’s cheek, thanking himfor a great night. She gave a shy smile as she hurried past John and out of theflat. The army doctor took several moments to realise what had just happened,an amused grin spreading across his face when it processed.

“You know, when I said ‘why don’t you two go homeand finish off’…I meant the cake.”

Rather than being embarrassed, like John expected,Sherlock merely sighed, watching from the window as Molly climbed into a taxi,“oh, we did. Trust me.”

John mumbled something about too much information,skulking off to make coffee or something. Sherlock wasn’t paying attention; hewas too busy thinking about Molly.

“Hiiiiii…”

Violet Holmes carefully eased open the door to theprivate room, peering around the frame – Molly was thankfully awake, cradlingthe new addition to their families close to her chest. The new mother beamed,ushering her into the room; the older woman eagerly obliged, closely followedby her husband. Scott Holmes staggered after his wife, carrying a mountain ofgifts for their new granddaughter – it looked as though they’d cleared out theHospital’s gift shop. He panted and wheezed, teetering towards the solitarychair in the corner of the room; he emptied his arms onto the seat and breatheda sigh of relief. Violet, meanwhile, was fondly embracing Molly.

“It’s good to see you, Molly. How are you feeling,my dear?”

“I’m…very well, thank you,” Molly respondedtruthfully – she felt much better after having a long nap. She eyed the largenumber of presents and swallowed, “you didn’t have to go mad.”

“Nonsense,” Violet waved a hand, gesturing betweenherself and Scott, “this little one may be the only grandchild we’ll ever have.We’re going to make the most of it.”

Their chattering was enough to rouse the curious,snoozing infant and she gurgled, fussing for attention. Violet gazed adoringlyat her and Molly smiled, shifting the baby in her arms, “would you like to holdher?”

Violet didn’t hesitate. Soon, the newborn wasbasking in the attention of her grandparents, flashing cheeky smiles and makingcute noises every now and again. After a series of photos had been taken, Eviewas passed to her grandfather whilst Violet sat beside Molly.

“I have something for you.”

She reached into her pocket and withdrew ablack-and-white photo, the date at the bottom 6th January 1976. Theday Sherlock was born. The photo showed a boy, no more than seven years old(which Molly immediately recognised as Mycroft), holding a grinning baby; therewas a look of disgust on the boy’s face, yet he held the baby protectively,waving a toy above his head for baby Sherlock’s amusement. She realised howsimilar baby Sherlock and baby Evie really were. Almost identical.

“That’s…amazing,” Molly stated incredulously,admiring the photo. She went to hand it back but Violet shook her head.

“You keep it, love. I’ve got plenty more at home. Youcan show little one when she’s older.”

“She’s an absolute blinder, Molly,” Scott gushed,pressing a kiss to Evie’s cheek. He returned to Molly, gently passing the eagerbaby back to her mother. He nudged his wife, “she’s got his eyes, alright.”

Molly watched happily as Violet grinned at herhusband, slipping an arm around his waist – the pathologist had only met thecouple a few times during her pregnancy and they’d consistently offered thesupport, both for the present and the future, something for which she wasincredibly grateful. They were truly lovely and devoted to their family whichMolly admired them for.

“Mycroft said he’d be along soon,” Violet wasexplaining as she began rifling through the gifts of balloons, banners andteddy bears the size of fully grown children, “he couldn’t believe it when wetold him. Convinced she was a boy, wasn’t he?” Scott nodded in acknowledgement.Violet sighed, playfully poking Molly, “you’re lucky, girls are much easier todeal with.”

“Really?” Molly questioned sceptically, frowning inconfusion – how would a mother of two boys know that? Then again, consideringwho those two boys were, maybe she had a point. Violet chuckled.

“Oh, trust me, dear. My two boys were nopicnic…even now, mind you,” she said fondly. She eyed Molly out of the cornerof her eye, “maybe one day you’ll have the answer.”

That was a lot to think about. Nevertheless, Mollygave an uncomfortable smile, “yeah. Maybe.”

When Molly arrived at Baker Street that morning, Sherlockwas lounging on the sofa with his back to her; according to Mrs. Hudson, hehadn’t moved in days and had snapped at her every time she attempted to bringhim food. Molly cleared her throat and the detective immediately scurried tosit up, attempting to look casual despite the fact he was dressed in pyjamasand his blue dressing gown.

“Molly,” he looked genuinely pleased to see her anda lump caught in her throat. She wondered how he would feel after sharing hernews, “to what do I owe the pleasure.”

“I’m pregnant.”

She’d expected anger.

She’d anticipated shocked silence stretching intohours.

She’d even imagined tears.

The only thing that Molly hadn’t taken into accountwas the one thing she got, Sherlock leaping from the sofa (after taking amoment or two to process her news) and picking her up with ease, spinning heraround the room. She clung on for dear life, giggling madly until she wasplaced safely on the ground; she straightened herself and gaped at the madman.

“What’s gotten into you?”

The stupidly delighted expression on his face onlymade Molly more confused, “I’m going to be a dad, Molly. Oh, it’s Christmas.”

Molly caught his arm before he could leap about insheer joy; after all, she was still on planet earth. “What about cases? What aboutyour work being the most important? What about-“

He waved a hand, still grinning giddily, “oh, whatdo I know? I’m an idiot.”

How could he be so calm and joyous when she’d beenpanicking about telling him, ever since she’d found out she was pregnant. True,his reaction had lifted a weight from her shoulders but she was still baffledhe had reacted so.

“What?”

“Okay…” he took her hand and the two of them sat onthe sofa. He stroked the back of her hand, making sure to look her in the eyeas he explained, “I’m not good at this. I wanted you to stay, that night…Iwanted to tell you never to leave. I was afraid,” Molly fought the urge to lookaway although she was now blinking away tears – damn the hormones, “ever since thatnight…I’ve been trying to tell you how I feel. About you. I didn’t know how, Iavoided you…” Sherlock ceased stroking her hand and held her knuckles to hislips as he continued, “it didn’t happen just because we were drunk, we bothknow that. I’m pleased it turned out this way and now…we can be a proper family,”with his free hand, he reached across and brushed away a stray tear, “if that’swhat you want.”

Molly sniffed, wiping at her eyes, “you really feelthat?”

“I love you.” The words came easily, aided by thenew life growing inside the love of his. Molly smiled a watery smile, pressingher lips to his.

“I l-love you, too.”

Molly had just settled Evie for the night when thedoor to her room opened and Sherlock crept in, carrying two cups of coffee. Thepathologist folded her arms, raising an eyebrow.

“Where have you been?”

At least he looked a bit guilty, “there didn’t seemto be any decaf coffee in the…cafeteria. I went to the place by Baker Street.For you, dear.”

“Would that have something to do with your parentsvisiting by any chance?”

He handed her the decaf coffee and shrugged, “maybe.Sorry about that. Were they…” he trailed off, choosing instead to sip hiscoffee. Molly chuckled.

“No, they were lovely. I think they bought out theHospital’s stock of presents, though.”

“I had a good reason for abandoning you,” Sherlockplaced his coffee on the bedside table, rummaging in the pockets of his jacket,“my mother’s been pressuring me to take my grandmother’s engagement ring to giveto you.”

“Yeah, I think we need to have a little chat abouthow your parents still don’t know we’re married,” Molly said, smirking cheekily.Sherlock rolled his eyes.

“I told her you deserve an original. And today…” heremoved the velvet box, popping the lid for her to view the gorgeous diamondring, “I got a call that it was ready. Sorry it took so long.”

Molly gazed at the beautiful ring, already twistingoff her four-month-old wedding ring to make room for her new addition. Itfitted perfectly, comfortably sitting on her finger with her wedding ringneatly above; Molly admired her hand, her gorgeous perfect hand.

“Don’t be silly. It’s perfect, Mr. Holmes.”

“Anything you desire, Mrs. Holmes,” Sherlockpressed a loving kiss to her forehead, gazing adoringly at his daughter, “so,got a name yet?”

“Yeah, I think so,” Molly smiled, linkinghands with her husband and looking up at him,  “she’s our Evie.”

The detective blinked, gripping Molly’s handjust a little tighter. He cleared his throat but the emotion was still clear, “I-Molly, that was just a suggestion.”

Molly nodded, “and I love it.”

The new parents embraced, eagerly anticipatingtheir exciting and unpredictable future together.

[catbrainswriting]

[mikomisa] cut your losses

ship/fandom: suoh mikoto/yata misaki (k project)

chapter: 1/?

word count: 1.7k

summary:  mikoto suoh has a lot of enemies. usually, after they try to face him, they run home with their tail between their legs - but every so often, some will come crawling back with the urge for revenge. and what better target than the one the king holds dearest? (or, alternatively, misaki is kidnapped by a rival gang formerly defeated by mikoto, and the king is given an ultimatum.)

notes: not beta read so sorry for any stupid mistakes.  i started this aaaages ago and never got around to finishing it until @shy-canadian-snowflake popped up and magically motivated me like an angel - so a huge big thank you to them!! this is also the first post on this shiny new writing blog, and there’s no initiation quite like one of my oldest rare-pairs.  enjoy!! (and pls let me know if you did so i’ll know to continue!)

Mikoto is wandering alone down one of the less crowded streets of Shizume, heading back towards HOMRA with several new packets of cigarettes held in a bag in his right hand, when his phone vibrating in his back pocket interrupts his lazy train of thought.  

It is mid-January, early evening, and the snow on the streets has yet to melt so the slicing cold air hangs with it.  Mikoto had left the bar early on a mission to track down a smaller gang stirring up trouble on the other side of the city, but his body temperature (heightened considerably by his aura) continues to attempt to oppose the winter.  Cringing as the hand that had previously been seeking refuge in his jacket pocket is exposed to the air, he draws his phone clumsily from his jeans. The blue light of the phone screen is harsh in the dusk and it takes several long moments for his eyes to adjust so he can check the caller ID.  Izumo.  Mikoto stares at the screen for a moment, before its incessant vibrating reminds him that Kusanagi is actually waiting for him to answer.

He swipes to answer the call and holds the phone to his ear, trying not to think about the fact that the last time Izumo called him, Totsuka was dead.

“Hey, Mikoto?”

Kusanagi’s voice over the phone is as even as ever, casual lilt carrying the words in a way that in any other situation would be relaxing.  But Mikoto has known the man for years, since they were teenagers, and they've been through too much together for him to not immediately notice an underlying sense of anxiety.  His mind, as ever, goes to the worst scenario first.

“What is it?”

Kusanagi barks out a laugh after hearing his tone, but it sounds inappropriate and somewhat forced.  “No one’s dying, I promise.”

Mikoto quirks an eyebrow.  The joke is in poor taste, though he doubts the man intended it as such.  “Then why’d you call?”

“I was gonna ask if you knew where Yata was.”

“Yata?”

“He hasn’t come in today.  I wouldn’t be worried - well, I’m not, really - but he’s not answering his phone.  Kamamoto offered to check his apartment, but I figured I should call you first.  Make sure I’m not interrupting some steamy date.”

Mikoto considers informing Kusanagi that the closest he and Yata have gotten to a date has been a make-out session in HOMRA’s rec room while some action movie played in the background (that’s basically a cinema date, right?), but he bites his tongue.

“I haven’t heard from him.”

That statement brings Izumo’s laughter to a nervous standstill.  There is a long beat of silence.

“Since when?”

“Last night at the bar.  I last saw him the same time you did, unless you’ve talked to him since.”

Mikoto hears a slight ruffle, and assumes that Izumo is shaking his head.  “No...no.  He said goodnight and then he left on his own.  It was late.”

Mikoto’s slow pace down the street draws to a stop.

“What are you implying?”

Izumo pauses, the only sound through the phone his deep breathing.

“I can’t stop thinking about Totsuka.”

Mikoto feels something like anger rising in his throat, but he knows it’s closer to anxiety.  “What are you implying?”

Izumo sighs deeply.  “I’m not--I’m not saying anything.  But, fuck, Yata’s just a kid.  And, yeah, he can look after himself and I get that but I can’t help worrying.  I feel like, with Totsuka, I didn’t worry enough.  And look where that got us.”

Mikoto lets the silence hang, watches his breath dance in the cold January air like the smoke of a cigarette.  He finds himself craving one suddenly, but he doesn’t have a free hand to draw his open pack out of his jacket pocket.

“I’ll go check his apartment.”

His tone makes it sound like an offer, like something he’s willing to do to calm Izumo’s nerves, but they both know that there is now the beginning of panic coursing through Mikoto’s own veins.  Misaki has always had such an effect on him, and more often than not he finds himself cursing the teenager’s innate ability to cause him such grief.

Izumo makes a noise of affirmation, another rustle to indicate a nod.  “Call me as soon as you find him,” he says, with an air of confidence that disappears like smoke in the wind the moment he continues, “And call me if you don’t.”

Mikoto hangs up the phone and breathes deeply, deciding after a moment’s hesitation that Yata is more important than his body’s craving for nicotine.  He sets off again at a significantly brisker pace, turning off a few streets away from the bar and heading instead to Yata’s apartment, tucked far into the worse side of the city.  He hasn't been there many times, since Yata basically lives at the bar, but he’s also aware that Yata’s financial situation is a bit of a sore spot.  God knows how many part-time jobs the kid’s working to try and keep up with the rent, for no real reason other than a desperation to provide for himself, rather than rely on other people.  Yata had been taught the rather harsh (and false) lesson in his life that relying on others always got you hurt, and Mikoto is always trying to encourage him to loosen his grip on that belief, but his efforts are largely in vain.  Yata’s mistrust of people on any level deeper than the surface was ingrained in him, through pain and loss and regret, and no amount of encouraging was going to get him to let go of it.  Especially not with the still-raw grief of Totsuka’s death in his heart.

It seems to get colder the further away from the shopping district Mikoto gets, as the buildings thin out and the streets grow broader - intended for vehicles, rather than slow-paced shoppers - but with a sense of purpose burning in his mind, he doesn't notice it as much as he had before Izumo’s call.  He walks through alleyways and under footbridges, keeps his distance from the guys lingering under them with their hands shoved deep in their pockets, no doubt gripping switchblades.  He doesn't have the time to get into a fight, especially not one that he can't end with an effortless wave of his aura.  He can feel it itching under his skin, burning in a way that it hasn't since the evening of December 7th, and he knows it well enough now to know that it means ‘danger’.  Anxiously, he chalks it up to his surroundings, to the guys holding nail-embedded baseball bats eyeing him from the alcoves of shuttered store fronts, but deep down he knows better.  His aura is unsettled with the need to protect, to shield...and the knowledge that it is helpless.  Something is happening.  Someone is going to be hurt.  And, as he pauses at the bottom of the metal stairs leading to Yata’s second-storey apartment, he can only selfishly hope that it is anyone else.

He begins to scale the stairs slowly, steadily, but his anxiety gets the better of him and soon he is taking them three at a time, leaping over the bannister as it angles around to save him a few precious seconds, and then he is stood at Misaki’s front door and time seems to freeze around him, like he's been plunged sixty feet into freezing water.  The lock is broken, and there is a dull trail of blood dragging from underneath it.

No.

No.

No. No. No.

Mikoto is bursting through the door in a moment, but there is nothing he can do.  He is hours too late already.  

Misaki’s apartment is only one room - two if you count the semi-divided kitchenette, three if you count the bathroom - and it is in chaos.  Shelves formerly housing photo frames and books and DVDs are overturned, the small old-fashioned television smashed from some apparent impact with wires dangling it precariously from its previous perch atop a chest of drawers.  The drawers are all opened, too, sorted through and their contents dumped on the ground, but Mikoto doesn't notice any of it, not really.  Because the old mattress on the floor, including its single unwashed white sheet, is covered in blood, and there is a message spray-painted in purple on the wall above it.

“CUT YOUR LOSSES, KING”

What the fuck? Mikoto is lost too suddenly to immediately feel the rage that he knows is coming, and instead stares dazedly into the ransacked apartment.  Is this revenge? Revenge.  For something that he has done.  Misaki is paying the price for something that Mikoto has done.  The thought makes him feel sick to his stomach, but before he can do anything he notices the note on the table.  It looks so out-of-place amidst the chaos that Mikoto is shocked he didn't notice it before, but he approaches the table cautiously nonetheless.  He snatches up the paper and begins to read.

“Red King.  Or, rather, Suoh Mikoto.  Did you really think you would get away with fucking with us?

You tore us down.  Thought you’d defeated us once and for all.  Taught us a lesson good and proper, yeah?

We don't play no fucking games like that.  

We remember.  Bide our time.  Act with more strategy that you HOMRA fuckers do.  

Bet you feel pretty fucking stupid right now.  Don't worry; the grief’ll kick in soon.

And then you can really feel like shit.

But that's not really what we’re after.  We’re after suffering in the broader sense.  More shame-filled.  More regret.

We did consider that little princess of yours, but even we have standards.  Besides, the other type of love is always more fun.

Depending on how long it takes your stupid ass to realise what's happened, your boy here probably won't be dead.  Maybe. Depends how loud the fucker is.

All we’re asking, Mr. Suoh, is for you to cut your losses.

Let us win and we’ll spare the rest of your boys.  And the girl.

But if you come chasing after us, you’ll find pretty boy here with his throat slit and a hundred men off to do the same to the rest.

Now, I want you to think long and hard.

What are you willing to lose?”