#I tried thinking about how Knives worked for five seconds and then I gave up and called it magic

[yellowocaballero]

I’ve been kind of obsessed thinking about this but ever since knives ate that paper cup I’ve been wondering…could he eat metal? Since his body naturally produces those metal blades, could he theoretically eat a gold ingot and then make his arm take on a golden sheen???? My main point is that I would very much like to see knives eat a wholeass gun, bullets and all, thank you and goodnight

This is a hell of thing to think this thoroughly about.

To be honest, I included that joke because I also rip up Dixie or recyclable cups with my teeth. I don't swallow them. But I do rip them to shreds. Like a hamster.

I try very hard not to think too hard about how plant physiology even works, because it might result in some very unnecessary worldbuilding and it'd all be out of my ass anyway. Vash throws up, so we have to assume he has a digestive tract. I didn't give them brains. Who the hell knows. I have NO idea how Knives' powers work. He can make them into clothes. What the fuck. Why can he make knives into clothes.

But I do think of his body as being made of the blades (as we're about to see in a second) - it doesn't produce them. When they come out of his back, they are literally coming from the skin on his back. I guess. I should have rewatched Stamp and seen exactly how his powers looked, but I just ended up going with what worked best to write and for the story.

So: no, the blades are magic and aren't produced. Yes, he could probably eat a gun, but it would probably be like putting it in a garbage disposal and he would just shred it and absorb it or something. He would never eat a gun because it would be beneath him. He doesn't like the sensory parts of food very much but he'll eat it sometimes.

[villain-enthusiast]

part six to the prince hero story please?? i am dying to know what happens next

i’m so happy you guys enjoy this series! i hope to keep continuing it for as long as i can!

tw: captivity, mentioned torture + abandonment, suicide threat

-

part one . part two . part three . part four . part five

This was it.

Hero’s only chance to escape was right now. Villain was out of headquarters doing who knows what, and the usual post-up guards by his cell had been called up for a mission analysis.

It had been about a week—at least, that’s what Hero guessed—since his father rejected Villain’s ransom request and basically disowned him from the family line. Hero knew that no matter how much he begged, there would be no returning home. But he was smart and he knew he’d find somewhere else to stay.

He would have to get out first to do that, though.

He grabbed his makeshift lockpick from his pocket, a small twisted strip of metal he managed to snatch in the interrogation room when Villain wasn’t looking.

Absentmindedly, his fingers brushed over the still fresh bruises and cuts around his ribs. He caved and gave the safe house locations when Villain threatened to mark up his face. It was the one part of him that was still…him, after all that has happened to him. Untainted, recognizable. The thought of having that last shred of his identity ripped away from him was unbearable.

He shook his head. He couldn’t dwell on that now.

After checking the door to make sure he was still alone, he inserted the pick into the lock of his shackles, shifting it around until he heard a satisfactory click. Hands trembling from the sudden freedom of weight, he worked the pick into the door’s keyhole with some difficulty.

The air felt thick. Cold sweat was beginning to bead along his forehead as he jostled the metal around. Oh god, was he really about to do this? Maybe this was a bad idea. If he got caught…

Shut up and focus, he scolded. He could worry about all of that if it came around.

A click sounded, then the door hinges squeaked.

It opened. The door opened. He could go.

Euphoria slammed through him and he could feel his knees about to give out from the joy radiating through his body, but he forced himself to stay steady. He wasn’t out yet.

He quickly checked his surroundings. The henchmen would be doing their rounds soon, if they hadn’t already started. He needed to move fast.

So he bolted.

He sprinted up the stairs, weaved through empty corridors, narrowly dodged a couple of Villain’s lackey’s walking down a few hallways. He stopped by one of the inventory closets and grabbed a few knives, keeping a small one in his palm.

Thankfully, Villain’s base was no more complex than a large house. Hero made it to the back entrance in no time, but stopped at a small hiding crevasse to catch his breath and his thoughts.

The exit was right there. It was right there. He was going to be free soon.

The alarm suddenly ripped through the building, blaring and ear-piercing. Hero winced as loud footsteps and shouting rang clear not too far behind. They’d found the empty cell, and the headquarters would be going on lockdown any second now.

Eyes trained on the door in front of him, he made a frantic dash for it, heart pounding out of his chest.

He was so close, he could practically taste freedom on his tongue—

The shoe crossed his view before he could even register what it was.

Then he was on the ground, the hard stone scraping his skin as he tried to recover from the sudden trip-and-fall.

“And just where do you think you’re going?”

Hero froze. His eyes slowly tracked over those all-too-familiar polished boots in his view, up Villain’s costume, and then…

Hero swallowed hard, mouth dry. Fuck.

Villain sneered at him, their expression cruel. “Thought you could get away?” In a flash, their hand snapped out and seized Hero’s face, fingers digging deeply into their cheeks.

Hero choked, hands instinctively going up to grip Villain’s wrist—a plea for mercy.

Villain yanked him up to his knees, nearly dislocating his jaw as they did so. Hero whimpered stiffly.

“Don’t you remember what I told you, little Hero?” Villain unsheathed their dagger and feathered the weapon from Hero’s left eyebrow down to his right side of his jawline. Hero squeezed his eyes shut as tears threatened to spill over.

“I said, ‘I am your king now.’” Villain’s voice was right in his ear. “And what would a king be if they didn’t take things away from people?” Their hand tightened around Hero’s face. “I think it’s time I start to work on your lovely facial features, hm?” The bite of the blade dug into Hero’s cheekbone.

Hero’s eyes flew open and he wrenched out of Villain’s grip, scrambling back with ragged breaths. “No,” he choked out. “No. I won’t let you.” He grabbed the knife he had been hiding in his sleeve and, after a split second of thought, held it up to his own throat.

Villain cocked their head, surprised. “Hero?”

Hero gripped the handle tighter. “You-You’re not going to take me alive.” He pressed the tip into his skin as Villain took a step forward. “I’m not your toy. I’m not your prince or servant. I’m not, I’m not going back with you.”

Villain’s stare went cold. “Hero. Put it down.”

“I’m not going back with you!” Hero shouted, shoes scuffing the ground as he backed up into the wall. “Let me go!! Or I’ll fucking do it! I’ll do it, Villain!”

“I’m the only one who cares about you, Hero.” Villain’s voice was dangerously low. “Your family disowned you. The public hates you. You have nobody, Hero. Nobody but me.” Their eyes narrowed. “So put the knife down. Now.”

Hero met Villain’s gaze. He shook his head, vision blurred. His hand moved to make the cut.

Then the room exploded, throwing the both of them off their feet.

All Hero could register for a few seconds was a loud ringing in his ears and an unconscious Villain in front of him.

The last thing he saw was a small group of people crowding over him before his vision went dark.

[krystalwinterswrites]

See You Again (At The Ending)

[Summary from AO3: Five jumps too far into the future, ending up in a post-apocalyptic wasteland. God decides Klaus is a nuisance and kicks him out of the afterlife. These events are both years and seconds apart.]

[Short Description: Klaus survives the apocalypse AU, in which Five and Klaus spend years together through the apocalypse and the Commission, all while Five is trying to find the right equation to get back home and Klaus is trying to figure out why this time-traveling, space-jumping kid seems vaguely familiar.]

Part 4: See You Again

Beginning of Work | Previous Part

[Notes: This chapter has already been published on AO3. It also will make zero sense without context from original chapters.]

Interlude VIII: I Heard A Rumour

“‘Five?’” Luther repeats, questioning.

Klaus looks to the kid, to Ben, to Allison. He has years’ worth of questions, years’ worth of theories, years’ worth of pretending he knows who this kid, who clearly knows him, is. He’s been confused for decades over why this kid is so familiar. And now Allison recognizes him? Just like that?

But the rest of them are staring blankly, or with a mixture of confusion and concern, and something inside him snaps.

Five, she had called him. Like he was one of them.

And Klaus remembers.

He remembers the way the kid always acted like Klaus’ family was his family. He remembers the way the kid knew important facts, hidden facts, about their family that no one outside of it should have known. He remembers the way the kid had teleported, and traveled through time, and done everything to show that he was remarkable.

That he was one of them.

He remembers what Allison can do.

“Allison,” he growls, “you have a lot of explaining to do.”

~~~

At thirteen years old, Klaus is pulled away from his siblings and taken to a dark, secluded room.

“Number Four,” Reginald Hargreeves says, curt and commanding. “Contact Number Five.”

And Klaus tries. Klaus really, really tries.

He finds nothing.

~~~

Allison is thirteen, barely a month away from fourteen, when her father pulls her aside.

“Number Three.” His voice is sharp as ever, demanding attention.

Since she can’t think of anything else to do, she nods.

Oddly, something in her father’s gaze softens. “Allison,” he says, “I have a very important job for you.”

He had never called her the name Grace gave her before. Granted, it was a recent development, but she had thought his adamant refusal to use anyone’s name would never change.

She nods again, shoving her confusion aside. This is her chance to impress him. All of them had always tried to impress him.

When he’s done explaining, Reginald gives her a day to think it over. she resolves to ask Luther his opinion, but…

When she sees Luther, he looks broken, and he’s staring at old family photos with tears in his eyes.

When she passes Ben’s room, she hears small sniffles, quiet crying as opposed to Vanya’s sobs.

When she passes Diego’s room, she hears his knives whistling through the air, hitting his target harsh and quick.

When she passes Klaus’ room, he is missing.

And she has already made up her mind.

~~~

“Why are you so sad?” Luther asks later.

Allison smiles. “I don’t know,” she lies. “I guess I just feel like I’m missing something.”

“Funny,” Luther says. “Well, not funny, because it’s making you sad, but… I’ve been feeling the same way. Like something’s wrong, but I just can’t place it.”

Allison can’t help it; something in her breaks.

~~~

The pictures are missing so quickly.

Every article is taken down and destroyed in the span of a day.

She even helps paint the room.

It’s scary how easily people disappear.

~~~

Allison is sixteen when she tells her siblings not to cry about Ben. She doesn’t give a good explanation, just that he would want them to keep fighting, but they seem to take it anyway. They trust her, and they value her opinion. They clearly hear the urgency in her tone.

Klaus is the most skeptical, but it’s okay. She can hear him talking to Ben late into the night. He hasn’t lost anything; he still has his brother.

This time, Reginald does nothing.

~~~

As a sort of honour for Five’s memory, Allison searches through every book she can about quantum physics and time travel. Fiction, nonfiction, doesn’t matter. As long as it relates, she pulls it off of the shelves.

Some of her coworkers and friends ask what she’s reading, and seem impressed when she shows them.

Later, whenever Claire asks what she’s reading, she does her best to explain the concepts in simple terms.

It doesn’t do anything to send the grief away, but it helps ground her in her current life.

~~~

“I heard a rumour—“

~~~

Ben’s funeral is short, but most of them don’t cry. Vanya does—she’s always been more emotional than the rest of them—but other than her, the rest of them sit in mournful silence. Tears burn their eyes, but they do not escape.

Reginald looks Allison’s way, meets her gaze. His expression is grave, but—

Allison shakes her head. “No,” she mouths. “Not this time.” And he nods in agreement.

~~~

“—that Number Five never existed.”

~~~

They stop talking about him, suddenly. She was expecting it.

It doesn’t make the blow any softer.

For nights afterwards, she wonders whether she made the right decision. Years. But she can see how much happier they are to think they haven’t lost anything; she can see how much it hurts when Ben dies.

It doesn’t make the decision any easier. It doesn’t stop her from thinking about it. But it does make the guilt ebb away, little by little, with time.

~~~

“I heard a rumour… that Ben is our Number Five.”

“I heard a rumour… that Vanya is Number Six.”

~~~

Sometimes, people startle Allison when they call Ben by his new number.

Sometimes, albeit rarely, Reginald almost calls Ben “Number Six,” or Vanya “Number Seven.” Luther jokes that he has too many kids, or that he’s getting old, and Allison plays along with a laugh, though her heart aches.

Sometimes, Allison starts to recall a story, only to be interrupted and told it never happened.

“Oh,” she says, feigning confusion as she realizes Five was a part of it. “I must’ve dreamt it.”

~~~

“You must not speak of this to anyone. It will only cause them to grieve them more.”

“I understand, Father.”

She doesn’t.

~~~

It’s the anniversary of Five’s disappearance, and Allison locks herself in her room and cries. No one knows why.

She never tells them.

~~~

Hypocritical as she is for it, when Ben dies, Allison cries the hardest. She hides where no one can hear, sometimes in parts of the mansion she’s not even supposed to be in, and she cries over the death of her second brother.

When Pogo sees her, once, he shakes his head before leaving to give her privacy.

When Grace sees her, she offers a blanket and warm milk. She only smiles and walks away when Allison declines.

When Reginald sees her, he sits down next to her.

“I understand that you’re upset,” he says. “It is only reasonable to be so. But you mustn’t let it distract you from your duties.”

Allison nods. “Of course,” she agrees with a sniffle, because what else can she do? There is no disobeying her father.

“Nor can you allow it to distract your siblings from their duties.”

“I understand.”

~~~

She still, absolutely, does not understand anything. She doesn’t understand why her father asked her to make Five disappear to begin with. She doesn’t understand how it was so easy, how her power could change so much so quickly.

She doesn’t understand why she agreed to do it.

~~~

Allison wears her makeup as a mask. It’s a silly excuse, but she convinces herself not to cry because her eyeliner would run.

When Luther says she seems off, she only shakes her head.

“Ben’s dead,” she replies. “Everything is wrong.”

I’ve lost a second brother, she thinks.

~~~

At the end of Allison’s story, they all stand in silent shock. The room doesn’t know how to react.

By now, Allison’s voice is wavering. “I-I thought I was doing the right thing. That it was good, since you wouldn’t be sad anymore. I didn’t realize that I was just covering up Dad’s mistakes.

“You weren’t,” says Five, his tone far too calm in comparison to the storm behind his eyes. “You were covering up my biggest mistake, and you buried me with it. Good fucking job, Allison. It’s nice to know I’m so bad of a family screw-up that you had to pretend I never existed.”

“Five, it’s not like—”

It’s too late. Five has turned around, blinking away.

“Wait,” Diego says. “He’s really our sibling?”

Allison nods.

“Anything else you’re keeping from us?”

She shakes her head. “Klaus… already said the last one.” Her eyes flicker to Viktor, who is staring down at the ground.

“You… I can’t believe you’d hide something like this,” Viktor says. “He’s— he’s our brother, and you made us forget about him?”

“I—”

“Will we ever even remember?”

Allison takes a breath. “I… I can try to make you remember, but—” She pauses, taking a deep breath. “When I’ve rumoured someone for that long, it’s hard to reverse.”

“Viktor remembered,” Klaus says.

They all turn to Viktor, who is staring at Klaus in confusion.

“The other Viktor,” he clarifies. “He… I don’t think he remembered Five. If he did, he didn’t tell me. But he remembered his childhood. I was wondering if you could at least try… Well, they’re your powers.”

“I can’t— I can’t take it back.”

Klaus sighs. “Look, Allison. When I was a kid, I thought I was cursed to talk to ghosts. Then I realised I could interact with them and give them physical form. I can act as a medium for possession. I’m immortal, I can levitate, and can apparently make other things levitate, too. I don’t think it’s too farfetched to believe there’s more to your abilities than you think there is.”

“You can fly?” Diego asks.

“That’s what you got from that?” For a moment, Klaus seems annoyed. Then, he grins. “This is why you’re my favourite.”

“I suppose I can… practice?” Allison says. “I can try.”

Klaus nods. “Good start. Viktor and I are also practicing his sound manipulation.” He takes a deep breath. “We’ll… figure everything out.”

The uncertainty in his voice unsettles Allison. When he had first showed up, he seemed to have everything figured out, preposterous as it sounded. He had been the picture of confidence when he told them all that Viktor ended the world. That he knew how to prevent it.

Now, he looks like he’s questioning his abilities.

“Where’d Five go?” They all jump at the sound of someone else’s voice. They’re young, with curly dark hair, brown skin, curious eyes, and blood-covered hands gloves.

As Allison begins to ask who they are, Klaus whirls on them. “You knew the whole time?”

The person blinks. “Yes? Neither of you are good with secrets, good as you are at pretending you’re good at it.” By the time it takes Allison to process that sentence fully, the person has already strided past her, picked up several of the body parts, and walked right back out of the room.

“Who the hell was that?” Allison asks, more than a little alarmed.

“Oh,” Klaus says. “That’s Ariadne. They’re dealing with the evidence.”

Allison’s gaze sweeps past the entryway, taking in the entire mess for the first time. “What… happened?”

Diego points a knife at Klaus. “He conjured Ben.”

“He what?”

Klaus shrugs. “Just another thing I do. I said I could give ghosts physical form. Ben happens to be a ghost who’s been stuck with me for the past thirty-ish years.”

A moment passes. Klaus hisses at the air.

“So,” Diego says. “Do I get any new, flashy powers?”

Klaus shrugs. “We’ll see. For now— Allison, Viktor, training room. Ariadne and Diego will deal with the mess. Luther… could you find the kid?”

Luther makes a face. “Why me?”

“I don’t know. You figure it out.”

Ariadne pipes up, “He’s probably in his room.”

“What room?”

They shrug. “Attic, I think. To the left, or whatever.”

Diego mimics Luther’s baffled expression. “That’s—”

“—the one across from Ben’s,” Klaus finishes with the satisfaction of someone who’s been solving a life-long mystery. “Of course.” He pauses. “I think… I think Ben may be getting some of his memories back. And if he’s getting them back…”

“…the rest of us can, too,” Viktor says.

Klaus hops up from the couch. “We should start, then.”

Allison nods and willingly follows him.

Maybe, she can learn how to fix this. She can finally understand.

End of Interlude.

Link to AO3 | Link to Next Part (to be added)

[reacty]

Before we start with Yvette S6 EP6:sorry for my absence but this summer really Make me unable to focuse for more than five minutes. Now that I'm able to focus...here I come .

ME:OK nobody told about a SWM x Supernatural x X-Files! WTF is that↑ ?

An Blue flame demon very suspicious,while MC is busy to gawk at this things the team ready themselves for battle and so does MC

Vinca:Now What ?

Lazareth:I don't know but from where I watching I see it like a rain of flames with bad knee.

Vinca:Well we need a hole in head

MC:(So they were survelling all this time?)

ME:Of course MC in order to give you ad your Byronic wife a proper date.

Trudy:What kind of demon is that?

Lazareth:Definitely this is NOT a demon.

ME:That what is that Lazareth?

MC:(The air get sucked up ,like a tornado its crashing everything close by and I hope were not the next to get sucked up by this thing.Yvette slashes the NOT-demon but its like try to cut the smoke with a knife and blade pass trough it.

Lazareth tries to attack it with his weapons.....but they snatched and get sucked up by the NOT-demon.)

Vinca:Time to have some fun.I've got this people!(Me:I love you but as you see...weapon don't WORKS! Its time for a tactical retreat)

MC:(The attack its seem to work......but like the previous attack it fail and the NOT-demon send Vinca's attack back to her)

Vinca:OK, now I'm starting to pissed.

Trudy:I'll plug it up!

MC:(So Trudy uses the vacuum force of the NOT-demon to send a waste bin on it it didn't work....)

Trudy:Not fair!

ME:MC look at Yvette for a guidance since the battle is getting out of everyone hand,Yvette is understandly pissed by this situation and gave a nod to MC.

MC:(My Light! And with all my determination and focus I slice it with my blade-light.

One deadly beacon coming up!)

ME:But let's repeat It. Didn't. Work.! Its even able control it....wait what?! And It going after MC!

Yvette:MC!

MC:(Yvette's calling me, but I feel esnared by the NOT-demon....

....and I will suckedup and stuck forever in this thing?)

ME:Luckly Yvette rescue her in time and she's let's out a scream half-battlecry/half frustration ....and this a horror story not supernatural Voltage Inc.!!!....

Yvette:No more playing! Let's end this!

Vinca:That what I'm talking about!

ME:Our Byronic heroes to the action!!! Ready for your doom NOT-demon!

MC:....↓

and flee......

ME:.....OK,it flee. Wait what? Talk about an anticlimactic letdown.😩

MC:Since the NOT-demon escaped we can only go to Yvette's place ad theorized what to do and what is it the NOT-demon.

Trudy:Yvette make a Deity angry since she's able to make the lava her besties.

Me:Trudy stop jinx it and wrong story again the deity are in Astoria series!!!

Vinca:My money on Vuz. She's messing with us again, smoke demon scream her name.

Lazareth:What if Vuz make a deal with a higher power since she isn't at her full strength?

MC:Maybe someone remembered being possessed and is seeking misplaced revenge?

MC:(Yvette hold very tigh on the steering wheels and I place a comforting hand on her shoulder. She too quiet.)

Lazareth:I don't know.

Vinca:C'mon Vuzass always been that extra.

Trudy: I told you that she's going to escalate things up!

LazarethvWe shouldn't rule anything out.

ME:Because Vuzass is a petty,pathetic,cowardly little bully😤.

MC:(Yvette quite all this time, wondering if she's listening all this discussion or listening us at all .....what she's thinking?)

Vinca:Fine. We need help and I don't wanna hit the books.

MC:Wrath's Team?

Vinca:Let's pretend that I didn't hear you and I didn't have to push you from the car

ME:😱🤣 wrong idea and suggestion Mc....

MC slink down in her seat.

Lazareth:You mean Nahara?

Trudy:Yay! She made me part of the team!

Vinca:On second through--

ME: Do it for your BFF happyness!

Lazareth:Hopefully she can help us or at least give us tips of how to kill the NOT-demon and that's all I care.

Vinca:Well playtime needs to happen for sure. I need to repay it for eating my knives !

ME:Vinca I love you never stop being an useless lesbian(like Edelgard with Female Byleth)!

MC:(Vinca twirls one of the remaining knives with a wolfish smile.

Lucky I'm not the NOT-demon!)

Trudy:Or maybe we can hide in the private island again?

MC:(Before I can tell Trudy that I don't think that the NOT-demon cares were we are and thus useless,Yvette finally speak)

Yvette:its Vuzass. Of course its Vuzass,because she know I'm coming for her and she's scared and ...

ME:Show her Yvette!!! Vuzass will soon no longer bother you and your Byronic wife(MC).

Yvette:We kill it by killing her.

MC:(Vinca whoooops but Lazareth is not convinced)

Lazareth:We aren't sure. Maybe a research first?

ME:Agree! Yvette please don't rush! By going in the final battle unprepared is bad any basic RPG will tell you this.

Vinca:Are you sure babe?

Trudy:I still think we need to hide.

Yvette:NO! This is the last straw,I'm so done with Vuzass and her tricks I'll end her!!!

MC:(I squeeze her tight reassurely) If this is what you think, I'm with you all the way Yvette and so the others.(Everyone agree and Yvette look at me gratefully and the looks turns into a blaze of intent)

ME:Behind all Great Woman(Yvette) there is a Great MC!

Yvette:Its time for Vuzass to meet her Final Destination!

MC:(Vinca howls out in delight and pull herself out of the to cheer in the wind,fist pumping.)

Vinca:You hear that demon witch?! My girl's coming for ya!

ME:Vinca being a useless lesbian again and she's so cute for it!

MC:(Trudy try to imitate Vinca and Lazareth have to grab her since she's nearly falls out of the car.)

Trudy:Aww, no fun.

ME:😅 Trudy Daddy Lazareth just saved your cute little ass,its good you're cute and funny.💐 And our Byronic heroic wives hold their hand and....

Yvette:Are ready with me MC?

.....and they claps their hands.

MC:Forever and Always.

ME:So MC change her normal clothes with her combat one.

MC:(Gotta be prepared! We're at a fancy lobby, fancy enough to be a fancy's person living's room. Here Yvette said its located Vuzass.

R.I.P to anyone who stand in the Yvette's way:plant,furniture,misc. Items etc...!).

Honestly I didn't expect to be this to be Vuzas lair.(Since its look more a like a storytime with brandy, not to watch Yvette battle to the death)

Trudy:True, warehouse chic not fitting set for Greed.

ME:The fitting set is a colloseum!

MC:(Vuzass casually stroll up here and everyone tenses)

Vuzgamad:So have you come to thank me for your gift? She wasn't nearly identical to what's her name was again?

Yvette:Shut up,don't you dare to say her name!

Vuzgamad:We never forgot our first love isn't ?

ME:Shut up Vuzass or I'll make you !!!

MC:Ignore Yvette! She has only the snark left and she can shove it in her ass.(Vuzass laugh at me,Yvette take advantange of the distraction to attack her but Vuzass dodge the attack, now she's at disadvantage so we're ready to jump to the fray. But Yvette holds her palm us to stay us.)

Yvette:No. This is my fight to win.

MC:(Vuzass unfazed crackled a terrify laugh)

Vuzgamad:There's the Yvette I raised up!

ME:And Yvette belong to MC and MC to Yvette,Vuzass! How. Many. Time. I. Have. To. Say. It. Vuzass!?!

Vuzgamad:Oh,who give you the control about the fire power/curse? All those year carefully shut me out? Or swallow the emotion so down that they're going to ignite?

Yvette:I did all this DESPITE YOU!

Vuzgamad:Because of me! I could take you for my purpose anytime,did you think you could hide from me? Everything you did was under my guidance,I follow you in the shadow. You were a weapon to be forged and today you're the little deadly thing.

Yvette:You're all empty talk! I no longer listen you!!!

Vuzgamad:Oh,like you learn to shut your heart and trust no one if your child psychologist didn't insisted that you lived in a fairy tail world? If I didn't mess up your life,you wouldn't get all your street smart knowledge? Would sent the demon with you made a deal in the fruitless search of me?

MC:(I'm so done with Vuzass insanity and I'm ready to slice and dice her,From Vinca's expression and knives twitched in her hands we share the same feelings)

Vuzgamad:The need wealth and fame? This all consuming greediness comes from? CONGRATULATION!!! You surpassed me,the volcano great idea but your creation is impressive, an all-consuming being.

ME:Like I've teorized somehow Yvette created the NOT-demon....wait? what? how?

MC:(The creature in the backalley....not Vuzass doing!?!)

ME:Not this time Yvette, as much I wished it.

Vuzgamad:I told you, you surpassed me and create the NOT-demon.

ME:At Yvette and mine dumbfounded expression Vuzass crack a laugh.....

Vuzgamad:You really thinked that you could emptyed without give your greediness a "physical manifestation"?

MC:(The NOT-demon is the price to empty the soul stuff!!!)

ME:THIS IS SO UNFAIR!!! When Yvette+MC=4ever will be happy for more than 5 minutes!?!

Yvette:Its not true!

Vuzgamad:But is it whanever you like it or not,the NOT-demon is both scary and awesome.I have no lesson for you left,now its time to baptizing this world with flames...

ME:I'm afraid that Vuzass death is a phyric victory since the NOT-demon is the TRUE FINAL BOSS!!! In meantime Vuzass GET. OVER. HER.!!!

So you can leave them happy for more than 5 minutes!!!

End Episode 6

[ramp-it-up]

...And Forever

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Enhanced!Reader; Bucky Barnes x Enhanced!Reader

AU: MCU A/U, after TFATWS

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. SMUT! Read at your own risk. Alternate MCU facts/timeline, lies, cursing, angst,  oral, (F, M receiving) fingering, spit play rank kink, size kink, unprotected sex (wrap it up!), sex on a pool table, semi-public sex, a special surprise, stalker-ish behavior, almost Dark!Steve? Not Beta’d. All errors my own.

A/N: I am an MCU nerd but not a timeline detail gal. Please forgive me if the timeline is off. This is an alternate universe and a work of fiction. Please have fun with it! This is the second part to Always.  Enjoy!

---------------------

You opened your eyes to see that you were in what looked like a break room. There was a coffee machine, a round table with five chairs, a row of lockers, two Captain Americas, and a Winter Soldier.

There was some strange conversation going on.

“Then who gave me the shield at the lake…?”  

Sam was questioning Steve, but he stopped talking when you started moving around.  You must have still been in the wedding venue, because you saw the name of the historic building on various items in the room. 

You scowled up at Sam, Bucky and Steve.

You moved to sit up and Steve was at your side. “Easy…”

“Sweetheart, are you okay?”

You squinted at Steve. His hair was shorter and he was clean shaven, but he was still gorgeous. Those blue eyes were full of concern. 

You raised your hand, and he held it, holding it and caressing it as you raised it to his face.

“Is it really you?”

Steve smiled ruefully at you. “Yeah, it’s me.”

You held his cheek and looked at him, bringing your other hand up to the other side of his face. He smiled at you. 

You grabbed him and hugged him hard, and then pulled back again as he held you in his arms. He moved back and pursed those ruby red lips. 

You had this irresistible urge to...slap the shit out of him. And so you did.

The sound reverberated in the room. Steve just stared up at you, with that fucking beautiful face, and then smiled, rubbing his jaw as if it hurt. 

But you knew it didn’t. And you were tired of the bullshit.

Sam and Bucky moved to calm you down, but you were too quick for them, pacing to the other side of the room. 

“All of you can stay the hell away from me. Y’all have some fuckin nerve. Especially you, Steven.”  

Your Houston accent was shining through with your anger.

“Wow, Sweetheart, that was harsh. But I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

You pointed at Steve.

“Fuck you.” 

You were seething, especially when he raised his eyebrow at your comment. But he quickly fixed his face when he saw the rage on yours. You looked at Sam, who just looked down, and at Bucky, who looked like he was in pain.  

Fuck thier feelings.

“I deserve your anger. I didn't tell…” Steve tried it. 

“You don’t deserve a got damn thing. Not even my anger.” 

Steve was stone faced at your vitriol. You were shaking, trying to control your emotions and not cry.  You were so hot. You fought to keep your voice steady.

“I thought you were dead.” It came out as a ragged whisper. But you knew everyone heard you.

Your voice was low, even, and scary. Bucky looked at you with wide eyes. Your own were brimming with tears.

“I thought you were dead and that they didn’t want to tell me.” 

You waved your hand at Bucky and Sam. And you waited until Steve looked you in the eyes again. 

“I thought you were in prison, that someone, on some alien star, forced you to play some sick gladiator games. Or that HYDRA was still around and they turned you into an agent for them. Or that you lost your memory in the blip. So many scenarios played in my mind, Steven.”

Steve knew better than to talk. This was his time to listen.

“But I never ever once thought that you chose this. Never thought it was your choice to leave and to stay away.”

“Listen…” Sam started speaking.

“Shut the fuck UP, Samuel.” 

If you had Bucky’s knives, all of them would be seriously injured right now.  

“You knew that he was alive and you didn’t tell me. Despite me begging for any kind of information.”  

Sam just pursed his lips and returned your glare.  You were right.

You went and stood in front of Bucky.

“James…” 

He looked at you, those pained eyes making your stomach flip.  

“How could you?  You knew?”

He just stared at you. Retreating into not speaking.

Steve spoke up.

“Yes, I left. Yes, it was my choice.  I thought I could… Well, let’s just say that hindsight is 20/20 and you can’t ever go back. I swore Sam and Buck to secrecy and I asked them to take care of you.  This all just got out of hand.  Didn’t it Buck?”

You watched Steve in disbelief and you swiveled your head toward Bucky and Sam again.

“You both lied to me. And Sam. Did you tell Steve to come back and ruin my life?”

Sam scoffed, offended. “No. I didn’t. S.H.I.E.L.D gave Steve quarterly updates.  You and Bucky happened so fast…” 

You ignored his explanation.

“But you knew exactly where he’d gone.”

“Yes.” Sam was cornered.

You turned back to Bucky. 

“I asked you a question earlier. Did you know?”

He nodded, imperceptibly.  “Doll… I…”

“James Buchanan Barnes. You knew?” Your heart was breaking even more than it was.

“Yes, but it’s complicated. He didn’t come back, at least not the way he left, and I thought it was a done deal. I thought he found…”

You interrupted him. 

“What. Happiness?” 

You turned back to Steve. “Is that what you were looking for, Steve? Happiness?”

“Sweetheart, you made me happy, I just had the chance to finally settle some unfinished business.”

You nodded.

“So James here took advantage of your little vacation to get with his best friend's girl while you explored your other options. Cool.”

It was not cool.

“Do you remember when you asked me if you could trust me, Steve?”  

He just gave a little smile and came to stand before you, looking down at you in that way of his.  He was trying to shake you. You were unshakeable. You raised your chin and looked right in his eyes.

“What you don’t understand is that you can’t pick and choose the pieces of life that you want, Steven.” 

You moved away from all of them. Steve stepped toward you, but stopped when you held up your hand.

“I’ve lived my life for everyone else, for this country, for as long as I can remember.  I deserve a little piece of life, Sweetheart.”  

Steve really believed what he was saying.

“What about me? Do I get a choice?”

Steve looked around at his two best friends, who were now best friends, and his best girl.

“You’re right. I think you should. You should choose.”

Your mouth hinged open. You spoke at the wall, then looked at Bucky.

“What about you, James? Do I need to choose?”

Bucky walked in front of you

“No Doll. You don’t have to choose.”  

You looked up into his eyes.  Damn, he looked so handsome in his bespoke grey suit that he chose for the wedding. And the tie that you gave him set off his eyes.  

“I just….  I just wanted a piece of happiness too. I knew you were Steve’s girl.”  He took both of your hands in his. 

“I don’t deserve you. When Steve didn’t come back, and you and I connected, I couldn’t help it. I was just going to keep an eye out, but…”

He gave you that cute little side smile of his.  And then he kissed you. It was short and sweet and oh so hot. You looked up at him, shook to the core. And then he ruined it all.

“I love you Doll. It was nice while it lasted.” 

Bucky was giving up. 

You nodded and backed away. Not believing this situation. 

“Ok. I’m making my choice.” 

You raised your chin and looked at Steve and Bucky.

“I’m not some fucking marble that you pass around, play with, and trade with your friend.” 

You took a deep breath.  “I choose me.”

You were gone in a flash, before they could even register it.  And although they ran, they couldn’t catch you before you were out of reach.

-----

Three months later, you walked through the late August soup of Houston heat to the bar, pausing when you thought you heard footfalls behind you. You used your speed to zip along to Willy’s; you were safe there.

You were back sharking with the best of them.  But your training was put to good use.  You never got burned and you never got caught.  You were making a good living.  

There were a jumble of misfit super humans who had gathered there with you.  You were a leader now. And you were doing well on your own. It was a life.

You already knew he was coming, and maybe that’s why you moved to the back room to play.

You were prepared, but when you felt him, you still lost your breath.  But you recovered quickly, straightening your spine, despite the fact that he was standing so close to you.

You looked at the dartboard on the wall across from you and chalked your cue.

“Don’t you have other things to take care of? Other wheres? Other whens maybe?”

You learned more about time travel since you’d left New York, and you understood more of what happened. 

The Avengers had access to time travel.  If only you could go back… but no. You were stronger than those men.  You could live with your decisions. And move forward.

“No. What I need to take care of is right here. Right now.”  

His deep growl stirred something inside you, and you fought your body, which was becoming moist at his proximity.

You bent over the table, super soldier dick poking you in the ass before you drew your pool cue back sharply into his stomach.  Abs of steel met the cue and nearly broke it.  He just stepped aside and shook his head at you.

You turned your head to look into his aqua blue eyes and you fell in love all over again.  Shit.

You gave up and turned around, leaning back against the pool table, because he wasn’t giving an inch, not moving from your space.

You scanned the room and your people were watching, but keeping your distance. They all knew who he was, and your history. They gave you space, but wouldn’t let you be hurt without a fight. You nodded at them and they all went to the front, giving you more privacy.

He nodded in their direction. 

“People fall under your spell fast, I know that all too well. They trust you.”

You lifted your head. “I’ve never done anything to make them not trust me.”

He sighed.  “Point taken.”

“Why did you come here?  I know that you’ve known where I was. Sam must have told you.” 

“I’ve known where you were. How could I not? I didn’t need Sam to tell me. It’s not like you were trying to hide.”  

He cocked his head at you.

“But the reason that I’m here, now, is that I’ve always been slow at math. And I just put two and two together.”

You smirked up at him. “You’re right. This is home. A leopard doesn’t change her stripes.”

He just chuckled at your evasion.

“You wanna play a game?” 

His eyes followed you, undeterred by your challenge.

You walked around to the other side of the table, leaned over and gathered the balls to be racked. 

You held two in one hand and looked at him.  He smiled and the electricity at the small of your back was everything. He slowly walked around to you as you racked them.

He took in your form (including your ample cleavage) as you bent over the table and your mouth as you said the word, “Break.”

“I’m tired of playing games, Doll. I’m just here to win you back.”

You turned around and faced him, looking up at him, now aware of his smell.  You closed your eyes and inhaled leather and metal. You opened them again and his eyes were blazing.

“James.. I”  

Bucky grabbed your face, hands gently cradling your head, and cut you off with a kiss, his lips gentle at first. Then his hands moved to your hips and lifted you onto the table. He slotted himself in between your thighs, your bodies separated by the same brand of black denim. 

His lips and tongue seemed determined to possess you. Bucky kissed and felt your body like he hadn’t in a lifetime. His hands roamed you like they were starved from touching you. 

Your hands were on his neck and in his hair, relishing the feel of him. You’d  missed him so fucking much. You drew apart, and his breath fanned your face as you two panted together, his forehead resting on yours.

“I am never going to let you go again.”

“James…”

“Hold on Doll, I’ve got to say this.” 

He smiled and gave you another quick peck.  You nodded, solemn.

“I said the wrong thing back in Brooklyn. I don’t care that you were with him first. I don’t care if you think that you might want to be with him. When I fell for you, I fell harder than I ever have. Even from the train.”  

He was whispering the words you wanted to hear months ago, causing you to cry.  But a lot of things caused you to cry lately. 

Bucky smiled at you, his eyes crinkling in that adorable way that you loved. You opened your mouth to speak and he kissed you, silencing you again. You responded with a smile. He continued.

“I know that you think that I folded and just gave up on you on our wedding day. I was just thinking that I don’t deserve you. Especially next to Steve.  I mean, you won’t find a better man.  But in the time since, I’ve realized, even though it’s hard. I’m a good man too.”

“You are, James…”

“You helped me come to terms with everything that’s happened. Sam has helped me deal with everything I did...and I’m not perfect, and neither are you, but we can be perfect for each other.”  

You nodded, smiling a little.

“I’m in love with you and I deserve you. You deserve me. We deserve each other.  And I’m not saying this because I think you saved me. But you are the strongest woman I know, enough to be with me when I am weak. I figured out that I can be strong for you too. I have to be now. I am so sorry that I let you walk away. But I’m not going to let you out of my sight now, even if you don’t want to be with me.  But I am asking you, again. Be my family. Make one with me. Choose me.”

You shook your head as tears fell from your eyes.

“James Barnes, there was never ever any choice. It’s you. It will be you. Forever.”

Bucky let out a sigh of relief and started kissing you all over your face, down your neck and into your cleavage.

“I was scared shitless, Doll! I love you so much,…”

You kissed him now, your hands under his jacket, slipping it off his shoulders. Next, you went under his shirt, feeling his nipples, playing with them as he shuddered. Then your hands went up to one cold shoulder and one warm, grasping them as he ground his hard jeans covered crotch into yours.

“Too many clothes.”

You ended up helping him pull his shirt over his head. You trailed your hand back down his abs to the button on his jeans.

“I missed you James. My hormones are going crazy, Baby…”  

His eyes got wide as you popped the top button and bit your lip.  Bucky moaned.  He was about to explode just being near you.

“Th-that’s what we need to talk about…”

“Talk later. Fuck. Now.”

Bucky looked over your shoulder to the other room. To his surprise, the door was now closed.

“Wow, they…”

You hopped down from the table and got on your knees in front of him.

“You gonna let me suck your dick or not James?”

He looked down at you smirking up at him and could feel himself leaking in his jeans.  Three months of his hand had been torture, thinking of you.  

It seemed as if he unfastened and pulled himself out without knowing.  For a moment he feared mind control. 

But it was just love and lust.

You grasped him, testing his girth and admiring how your fingers did not meet around his cock.  

“Mmmmmmmm,” you moaned while you thumbed his tip, collecting the pre-cum and lubricating him as you pumped.

He stared at you, slack jawed and sexy as he watched you.  He reached down and put his hand in your hair, massaging your scalp.

You commanded him. “Eyes on me, Sergeant.”

Bucky locked eyes with you and watched as you licked your lips, opened your mouth, and spit on his cock.

“Fuck.”

You pumped him a couple of times before you opened wide and took him as deep as you could, relishing the feel of his wide, smooth, hard unit in your mouth.  You pulled off of him with a pop.

“Damn I missed this dick.” 

Then you deep throated him again, making Bucky have to hold on to the side of the pool table as he held your head while you spluttered around him.

“And I missed your pretty little mouth, Doll. Damn.”  He watched as you did it a few more times.

When you looked up and  he saw your ruined face, Bucky went feral.

He pulled you up by your shirt, pulling it over your head and wiping your face with it.  Then he kissed you.

“Fucking love how you do that, Doll.”  

He started kissing down your chest, pulling your breasts out of your bra, pinching and rolling your nipples gently, a little more carefully than usual. He looked at you knowingly as you squirmed in pleasure.

“I’ve been doing my research.”  

Then, he leaned down and suckled them with that mouth until you almost came, writhing in his arms. Bucky unbuttoned your pants and pulled them down, kneeling, and staring up at you as you leaned against the green felt table.

You stepped out of your jeans and panties and watched as his flesh hand glided from your ankle to your ass, palming it and then sliding back down as he lifted your thigh on his shoulder.  You shuddered as you could feel his breath on your cunt.

“I’ve been dreaming of this.”  

His eyes held yours as he leaned in for a kiss, then a long wet lick of your cunt.  You grabbed his brown hair as his blue eyes hypnotized you and as he ate you out. When his metal fingers came up, whirring, you started begging.

“Please, James…please…please…..”

He laughed, mouth still fucking your pussy. He pulled away, chin glistening with your juices. His fingers began pumping inside you, the vibration driving you up the wall.

“Are you begging me to stop, or to continue, Doll? Talk to me.”

“Unnnh, unnnnh, oooohhh shittttt. Don’t ever stop.” 

And then you came all over his face,  Bucky slurping it up happily.  He stood up, taking you with him and maneuvering you so that you could feel his thick tip at your hole before it breached you. 

Bucky’s cock stretched you out and made you see stars as you slid down his thick pole while he was standing up, pumping inside you as he deposited you on the table.

You wrapped around him like a vine as he held you, cock pounding from the feeling of being inside you again. He pulled back to kiss you again.  He was grunting in his throat as he tried to speak.

“Fuck you feel so good...Fair warning, Doll. I’m not going to last. Been too long.”

You let go of him, and leaned back on the felt, arms braced behind you as you replied, “Just fuck me James.”

Bucky took in your body, from where you were connected up your torso to your breasts and the beautiful fucked out look on your face and started moving.

“Fuck, fuck, fuckkk.”  You took him, looking down to see the impossible stretch.

“Yeah, look at that. Looks and feels so damn good, doesn’t it, Doll? How the fuck are you so… so… fucking… tight….?”

“Yes, fuck, James, FUCKKKKK.”

All nerves were in your cunt as you went down to your elbows, and then to your back flat on the slate table, pool balls going everywhere.

Bucky pulled your hips off the table and really started digging in, hips snapping at a frenzied pace as his metal hand slid down your body. You could tell that he was almost there.

“Cum with me Doll.” 

When that metal thumb touched your clit, it was over.  You came as soon as you felt his white hot ropes of cum drench your walls. You closed your eyes for just a second, and then opened your eyes wide.

‘Why am I curled up on a pool table after being fucked by my 106 year old fiance? What is life?”

Bucky laughed as he pulled his shirt over his head and helped you off the table. He looked around, going to get you a bottle of water from the vending machine.

“You good?” 

Bucky eyed you as you got your clothes together.  He leaned next to you as he watched you drink the water.

“Baby okay?”

You ducked your head, smiled and grabbed his hand, putting it on your slightly rounded stomach.

“Yeah. I can feel him moving around.  Can you feel that?”  

Bucky just stared at his hand, then at your face.

“Not really… Him?”  He was astounded.

“That’s normal. I’m gonna be able to feel him before you can, And yeah, Him.”  

You turned more fully toward Bucky and he took you in his arms.  

“I had all kinds of tests, to make sure that he was okay.  I wanted to know if… if what they did to me would affect…. “ 

You shook your head, then smiled up at Bucky.

“He’s healthy.  I’m 20 weeks. I figured we’d call him Jamie?”  

Bucky beamed at you and nodded. 

“How did you know?”

“Well, I figured out that you didn’t faint at the wedding just because of Steve. Why didn’t you tell me, Doll?”

You rolled your eyes.

“Are you really asking me that question?”  

Bucky blanched and you decided not to be salty. 

“Well, At first, I didn’t want you to feel trapped. I was so happy that you asked me and didn’t know.”  You beamed at him. “ But then…” Your smile faded.

“I’m an idiot, Doll. Forgive me.  It’s me and you. And Jamie. Forever.”  

You two shared the kiss you missed at the altar. It was going to be okay.

“Now, let’s go get some food. I know you’re hungry.”

You laughed as you punched his arm. 

“Ass. But you’re right.” 

You two walked down the street to Ninfa’s Restaurant hand in hand. Bucky turned his head and gave an imperceptible nod as you two passed by an alley/

Steve returned the greeting as he stepped out and watched you and Bucky make your way down the street.

“That’s okay Sweetheart,” he whispered. “Buck’s a good man. But I know you’ll choose me. In another time.”

He walked to the quinjet, which was pointed toward New York.

-------

Did Reader make the right choice? What do you think about the surprise?And what the what is Steve thinking? Let me know if you liked it by commenting or reblogging!

Tagging:

@olyvoyl @summerofsnowflakes @sillyteecup @riiyy @honeysucklechocolatedrippin @theselilwonders @lonelydance @chattykathysquietsister @anh1020 @nissameta1782 @afriendlyblackhottie @betterkeepmewetterthanabayou @jbrizzywrites @stilltoyou  @donutloverxo @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @kiwisa @food8me @aiikaa @marvelfansworld  @london-grunge @pheebsyells @thesecretlifeofdaydreams-bl-blog @douxtille @ximaginexx @fofisstilinski @bertieandberries @ladystrawberry @bit-of-a-timelord @chesca-791 @calimoi @fangirlfree @bbaengtan @karolsboo @aliceforbes @insertpithyusername @sickknik @photmath @whorekneebrain  @anacrcarvalho @iconicshit @spicybibimbap @fineanddandy @olyvoyl @chaoticsteverogers@txtsfromyourex @sadthotsonlylove @ikatieebabyy@nerdymugsharkempath @maroonsunrise83 @curlyhairclub @spookyparadisesheep @keepingitlokiii​ @weaselbeedisneygeek @toofab4utheatrediva

[dauntless-gothamite]

Prove Them Wrong [3/?]

Fandom: Divergent Pairing: Eric Coulter x Fem! Reader Summary: Y/N is a Dauntless transfer from Erudite, and she has a drive, an ambition that sets her apart--it always has, even back in Erudite. She brings her perseverance (and need to prove others wrong) to Dauntless when she transfers, and she uses her mind to make her way through the initiation process. Along the way, she makes friends and enemies, and she finds herself comfortable around the man most people in Dauntless avoid at all costs: Eric Coulter. A/N: I like what I did with the end of this one, putting a (hopefully) comedic/unique twist on a trope and adding something original :) feedback is very much appreciated, happy reading

When you walked into the training room the next morning, everyone avoided looking at your face, specifically, your neck. Instead, people looked at the ground. You knew you had bruises around your neck from where Peter had grabbed you, but you hadn’t expected a group of dauntless to be so touchy about it; bruises were common here. 

“Alright, listen up!” Four yelled. “We are doing some target practice today, so line up and get throwing,” he said, pointing to the line of targets against the wall. At least you weren’t fighting today; your body could use a break. That fight with Peter really had worn you out, and since you guys had thrown knives a couple times already, you were starting to get familiar with the technique. 

You walked up to a free target and looked over the knives positioned on the table before you, holding one and turning it over in your hand. “Well? Are you going to throw that knife or just stare at it all day?” the gruff, aggressive voice of Eric asked. You turned to look at him, and a part of you was pleased to notice that he was looking you in the face, not avoiding your eyes and neck like everyone else around here. 

One side of your mouth quirked up in the beginning of a smile before you replied, “I’m about to throw it.”

“Then get on with it!” Without hesitation, you turned your body to the target, and you positioned your feet similar to how you would if you were throwing punches instead of knives. Gripping the handle, you drew the knife back, aimed, and twisted forward, releasing the knife as you traced an invisible arc over your head. The knife stuck to the target with a thud, but it was a little lower than you’d hoped it would be. Eric nodded and said “Get that figured out before I get back, and maybe I won’t yell at you,” before walking away to stand behind some other initiate, most likely to stress them out so much that they’d miss the target completely. Maybe that’s why he doesn’t yell at me very much, you thought to yourself. Because I don’t break under the pressure of his judgemental stare. After taking many math tests with teachers walking around the room, looking over each student’s shoulder as they frantically scribbled down answers, you were used to being watched and assessed. 

Picking up the next knife, you lined yourself up just like you did before and repeated the motion, letting go of the knife a bit earlier this time. The knife landed at the height you wanted it to, but it was a little far to the side. Grabbing for the next knife, you made sure that this time you didn’t twist as much, but you did everything the same way you did before, and the third knife landed just a few millimeters from where you’d aimed, but you were satisfied. Smirking to yourself, you looked to either side before walking forward cautiously to grab the knives from the target. As you grabbed the first knife’s handle and pulled it out of the target, you heard the sound of a knife flying through the air near your head, and in an instant, said knife embedded itself just a centimeter above your head in the target. 

“What the fuck!” you yelled. Whipping around to glare at whichever person’s knife had gone so far off course, you saw Eric standing where you had been standing to throw the knives with a smirk on his face. 

“Just testing you,” he said nonchalantly. You scowled in response, eyeing the knife he still held in his hands. You locked eyes with him, and his smirk grew wider as you backed up against the target, knowing what would come next, right before Eric’s second knife landed between your arm and your torso. You turned back around to grab your knives, and Eric said “Grab mine too, initiate.” While you were turned around, you rolled your eyes, but you did retrieve his knives for him, passing them back to him curtly. He grabbed them out of your hands, fingers brushing ever so slightly in the process, before turning around to torment someone else. 

--

At dinner, just as you were about to take a bite of your hamburger, Will asked, “How did you do it?”

“Do what?”

“Get Eric not to hate you!”

“He doesn’t like me,” you scoffed.

“At the very least, he doesn’t yell at you every five minutes,” Tris butted in, to which Will and Christina nodded fervently. 

“I don’t know,” you shrugged. “Luck, I guess?”

“No way, luck could not possibly get that man to be even a little bit nice to anybody,” Christina countered. 

“Ok, maybe not, but like I said, I don’t know! Maybe it’s because I don’t crack under pressure or something.”

“Something like that,” Will conceded with a sigh before turning on Tris. “Your turn; what’s going on with you and Four?”

“Nothing!” Tris replied. 

“Come on, don’t lie to us,” Christina said. You badly wanted to say something to try and get more information out of Tris, but you refrained just in case they decided to turn back on you and start asking about Eric again. 

“I don’t know,” Tris said. “He’s cute, though,” she admitted with flushed cheeks. 

The banter between you all went on like that for a little while as everyone ate their dinner, until Will got up and said, “I’ll see you guys back at the dorm; I want to get there early and hit the showers while everyone is still at dinner. Get a little privacy for once,” and stood up with a smile. 

As soon as Will was out of earshot, you leaned across the table to Christina and said “So, when are you finally going to tell Will you like him?” you smirked. 

“What? No,” Christina said.

“Come on, Tris, back me up here,” you said.

“She has a point,” Tris said with a nod. 

“You guys are unbelievable!” Christina said and stood up, prompting you and Tris to do the same, and then you all headed out of the dining area together to stroll through dauntless for a little while before going back to the dorm so as to give Will some privacy. 

“You know, I think I’m going to try and shower early as well,” Tris said as the three of you walked. “But don’t worry, Christina, I won’t look at Will,” she winked and laughed before peeling off towards the dorm.

“Hey!” Christina yelled after her as you stood next to her, doubled over in laughter. 

“Will, can you calculate the speed at which my fist hits the punching bag? Can you--” you teased Christina.

“Stop it!” she shrieked, her blush deepening.

“Just admit that you like him, it should be easy for an ex-Candor!”

“Fuck off!” she said, but there was no malice in her tone. You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you, and that was the last straw before Christina gave you a hard shove, making you stumble as you laughed at her expense. Then your body collided with something solid. You heard whomever you had just crashed into growl in frustration as you stared at their black boots. Eric’s black boots. Your laughter died in your throat as you stood, taking note of the numerous pages and folders that were undoubtedly full of important files in them scattered across the floor. You made eye contact with Christina’s, who at least had the decency to look guilty as she retreated down the hallway, as Eric said “Well, initiate. I don’t know what you were doing, nor do I care, but the rest of your evening will be spent reorganizing the files you just scattered everywhere.” 

You nodded as you made eye contact with him before bending over to pick up the pages on the floor. Once you had picked everything up, Eric started walking and you followed up three flights of stairs and down a hallway, eventually coming to a stop outside a door which he unlocked. You followed him inside as he turned on the lights, and looking around, you knew this was his office. “You will sort these pages by category and date, then leave them on my desk when you’re finished, understood?”

“Actually, I have a question,” you asked as an idea occurred to you. He raised an eyebrow, unimpressed.

“What?”

“Wouldn’t something physical be a better punishment? Just because I happen to be good at sorting, this feels like it’s--”

“No,” Eric said. “I know what you’re doing. Trying to get an advantage by extra training and building it into something you already have to do. I’m not an idiot, Y/N.”

Nervous to push him any further, you decided to throw one more thing out there, and if he didn’t take it well you would shut it and sort the files. “Well, of course not, you are from Erudite originally, so--”

“Who told you that,” Eric asked, annoyed. You weren’t sure, but you thought you saw a glimpse of something else in his eyes for a moment. 

“No one, it’s just that Ms. McKimmerer talked about you all the time.”

“That old math teacher? He asked incredulously”

“Yeah, she always said ‘Eric Coulter memorized more digits of pi than any other student in his year, try to be more like him’ and ‘It’s a shame he left Erudite’ when she taught us about pi.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” Eric scoffed. “And don’t mention that to anyone, initiate!”

“I won’t!” you said, slightly amused. After a brief pause, you said,  “But you should know, there is even a picture of you from that year on her desk, with your hair combed back and a blue collared shirt.”

Eric paused for a moment, and you did your best not to break, but eventually you howled in laughter; his wide-eyed reaction was just too funny.

Scowl in place, Eric schooled his face into a calm, if annoyed mask, and said “get to work on those files. I will check back in a bit to see if you’re done sorting them.” Then, he walked out and shut the door behind him. Chuckling to yourself, you got to work on the large stack of paper before you.

--

The door opened loudly and you woke up to the sound of Eric Coulter clearing his throat. “Did you finish sorting the files before falling asleep at my desk, initiate?” 

Sitting up, slightly embarrassed, you nodded. “Good. Now get out of my office and go eat dinner.”

You stood from the desk, hesitating for a minute. “I actually wanted to ask you something,” you said, turning to face Eric. 

“Yes?”

“Well, I noticed you have a few books in here, and I was wondering if I could borrow Mental Conditioning: Getting Your Mind and Body On the Same Page. I wasn’t looking through your stuff, it’s just on the self over there--”

“I know where my own damn book is,” he said, walking over to it and grabbing the book off the shelf. “Here,” he said, handing it to you. “Return it when you're done, and it better be in the same condition it is now when I get it back, understood?”

“Yes, thank you!” you smiled at him, pleasantly surprised that he was letting you borrow the book.

--

That night, when you got back to the dorm room, you read a few pages of Eric’s book before going to bed. It was a little hard to focus with all the noise--you’d find a better spot to read tomorrow--but you were happy nonetheless; while dauntless was great, you had missed all the books that were available to you at Erudite. As your eyes grew tired, you reached into your bag under your bed, which held your few belongings--every initiate got one--and pulled out a napkin you had been doodling some tattoo ideas on during lunch, placed it between the pages to act as a bookmark, and put the book away in the bag. You closed your eyes, surrounded by your friends, mind calm from reading, and for a moment, despite the lingering pain around your neck, you were completely at peace as you drifted off to sleep. 

Tag List: @shykoolaid, @taina-eny​, @parabatai-winchester​, @marvel-ousnesss​

[rcksmith]

Invigorating — Five Hargreeves

Request : “Hii so i was thinking about some fic/headcanons where five discover that his powers are stronger when he is with reader.”

A/N: We not tolerate any pedophilia here!!

I write about Five with their 20s. I write the same about the characters of Harry Potter.

I hope I got close to what you wanted. I thought it was better to do it in fic, but it was just out of personal preference, I hope you like it, I found it very adorable to write. Love u❤️

English is not my first language, so I so sorry if have a mistake.

Requests are open. Love you ❤️

Couple: Five Hargreeves/Fem! Reader.

Warnings: Nothing, just fluff.

— — — — —

The superhero life was a mess. Behind all the glamor of HQ’s and the romanticization of the media, there were only people trying to cope with their own lives when everything that was expected of them was nothing short of extraordinary. All the Hargreeves brothers knew this. And they carried the weight of the whole world on their backs. It was like trying to breathe with a rock pressed against your chest, purging all hope of relief.

They would never have a normal life, with normal parents or friends. They would always be chained to that sentence that came with their powers. Sometimes, late at night, some of the Hargreeves wondered how much smoother life would have been had they not been born extraordinary.

Five stopped imagining fantasies that would never come true from an early age. He viewed situations with objectivity, coolness and calculus. But life at the Hargreeves mansion was not easy and the only way for him to deal with the traumas and pressures was to push them under the rug. Then Five started to scoff when the brothers talked about having a normal life.

Who did they want to think about it? They would always be circus attractions. They would never have a normal life. So it was better to get over it, because you can't miss what you never had, and it was stupid want to live a false normal life. They would never be normal, it was the curse of the Hargreeves, and Five accepted that.

But you revoked all of his sentences. You were absolutely normal. Typical life, family, friends and routine. And when you came into the life of the Hargreeves and brought the breath of relief that everyone needed, Five felt that rock be lifted from his chest whenever you were close.

And then he knew normalcy. Five tasted the sweet taste that was enjoying a ray of sunshine, a summer breeze, a sunset, all the normal details that you inserted into his life and that now ... now he had something to miss.

During the months, your presence, for Five, was a sigh of relief amid all the claustrophobic, and he felt a certain envy when he saw how Klaus had a way with dealing with people. How he and Alisson always knew what to say, how to act, and how to captivate you to the point where you want to spend more time with them.

It was hell for Five. because you presence calmed all his nerves, your energy soothed the restless air and removed the rock that prevented him from breathing. Five realized how much he liked fresh air. And he didn't know how to make you want to be close to him too. He felt at peace when you were close. And it was an overwhelming discovery.

“Here it is.” You said, handing Five a mug of coffee, without him even asking.

That was one more thing that made you wonderful in his eyes. You two never had a long conversation, but you knew enough, and whenever you were in the kitchen, helping the Hargreeves for breakfast, you knew exactly what to give him.

Okay, to be fair, you knew exactly what to deliver to everyone. For Klaus, passion fruit juice and hangover aspirin, big and fat pancakes for Luther and Diego, Waffles for girls and strong black coffee for him. It wasn't like Five thought you were treating him in a special way.

But... whenever you gave him coffee and your midday sun smile, that was the best part of the day. And he wished, deep down in his soul, that it was special.

He nodded his head. And he drank the coffee knowing that the taste would be nothing short of excellent. Five concluded that you had a habit of turning everything you touched into gold.

“Are you going to see training today to wait for us?” Alisson asked you.

It was Friday, and Alisson, Klaus, Vayna and you had agreed to go shopping after them training. It was not new you and them to go out together, but it was new for you to watch their training. It was nothing formal, just routine, so it was easier to wait for them finishe than you to leave and return.

“If it's okay with you guys.”

The brothers agreed and Five thought it best not to show any reaction. He told himself it was because it didn't matter whether you saw a workout or not, but, deep in his soul, Five knew it was for fear that if you focused your attention on him, you would end up listening to him fast heartbeat.

But if he knew that everything would start in that training, he would have thought twice about going.

You were sitting on one of the mats in the garden, sometimes reading something on your phone while the brothers practiced the training. It should have been routine for them, as usual, but they all had difficult missions last night and felt exhausted to do their best.

Five came to know his own limits, he knew when his body was entering the last reserves and that it would no longer hold its powers. It was like a big battery that he needed to recharge to keep working. He felt the sting in his muscles, a warning that Five came to understand that signaled that his powers were going to fail.

Five was already orchestrating strategies to dodge Diego's knives when, already knowing that it wouldn't work, he tried to teleport. But the blue flash swallowed him up and when he took him behind his brother, and Five felt his muscles revitalized, the shock left him stunned.

It had never happened. But it hasn't happened again in weeks too.

Five spent days trying to understand how his powers took a turn and then retracted the same stake when he trained again. The bite always hit him in the muscles and then his powers left him in the hand. Five could no longer find the invigorating sensation that followed the hooks.

The second time his powers got stronger was when Luther was pissing him off. They had arrived from an exhausting and difficult mission, and that time you asked them to come to your apartment for dinner. Because you knew that the negativity of the mansion would not do well for a situation that had already brought out the best in the Hargreeves. Always the good person. You knew how to alleviate a situation with the smallest of gestures, and it made you look wonderful again in the eyes of Five.

After dinner, Luther was teasing Five, throwing cushions at him across the room, while everyone talked and rested in the living room. You made them feel like it was just a normal end of day. That they were just tired after work, traffic, and not because they were damn superheroes who fought a nuclear leak and terrorists. It seemed to Five that everything was easy and charming with you.

Then, when Luther threw another pillow at him, and Five felt the sting in his muscles, but tried to teleport to strike back anyway, the invigorating air ran through his muscles and the blue flash swallowed him.

Once again, Five was surprised. And suddenly, he forgot why he teleported.

His mind hummed like a propeller, trying to understand what the hell was going on. And that's when his eyes were drawn to you, like magnets.

The world was seemed to run out of breath, the atmosphere slowed and he followed every move you made until your eyes met his. It was instantaneous. A hot desert wind swept Five from head to toe, and brought the hot, overwhelming thought “It's her.” You were doing it. You were the one who left him invigorated. You removed the rock from his chest and he could breathe. His powers were reacting to you, and the realization it that stunned Five.

You smiled for him and went back to talking to Vayna, oblivious to the overwhelming discoveries that flooded Five.

The third time your presence showed that his theory was right was when you two were alone. It was Tuesday night. You were making cocktails with Klaus and laughing when he gave his verdict:

"I am happy that you are beautiful and intelligent enough to know that you must think about several other professions, because you would definitely make a terrible bartender." Klaus put aside a drink you made after making a face.

You laughed, throwing an olive at him.

“Why beauty would help me?”

“Prostitution, perhaps.”

“KLAUS!” You looked at him with amused indignation and you two laughed out loud.

“I'm going to get something good. Don't get out of here.” He stood up, taking his coat.

“Be careful!”

“I always do, baby.” He shouted at the door, leaving.

You laughed at nothing, cleaning up the mess you had made on the counter, throwing the used lemons in the trash.

That was when Five appeared. The mission mask on his face, the uniform slightly scorched.

“Hey.” You smiled as soon as you saw him, your heart beating faster. “All right?” You pointed to his clothes.

“Fire” Five say, sitting on the stools at the counter you were on and opening the bottle of vodka.

You gave him a glass, and Five thanked him silently while filling a shot and turning it all over at once. You couldn't get your attention off him. His hair was black as the background of the galaxy, his lips were red with drink, the mask adorned his eyes. God, he was beautiful and you felt that you could no longer reason consistently.

This always happened when Five was involved. He is a god of Olympus who had the power to destabilize you with just one look. Now, however, the mask delivered that he could swing you just in the presence.

In fact... that mask just made everything more mysterious and attractive. You felt something humming inside you, like a harp string that connects your heart to your belly.

“What?” Five's voice brought you out of the trance, revealing that you were looking at him for too long.

“N-nothing” You tried not to blush.

You turning around to put away the other bottles that Klaus and you had removed. But the floor was damp from the melted ice cubes you both dropped. And you was so stunned that you slipped.

As soon as the world spun and the wind hit your face, you were prepared to fall to the ground when a blue flash protected you and firm arms held you.

The breath drained, the callus increased, and Five was absolutely sure that it was you who made him stronger. You were the one who reinvigorated his powers because when he came out of that fire, the sting in his muscles hit him hard, and he knew he hadn't been able to use his powers anymore.

But when you looked up at him, and Five felt your warm skin on his hands, he knew he couldn't stay away from you anymore. He thought about doing something, his body was screaming for you, but he didn't have a chance. Your fingers touched the corner of his mask, gently contouring the left edge.

“You're Gorgeous...” Your whispered was a breath, but Five could hear.

Then he leaned over and pressed his lips to yours, because he felt he couldn't live any longer if he didn't. And when you kissed him back, his whole battery was recharged and that rock that was choking him was destroyed in millions of pieces.

As soon as you were apart enough to breathe, your fingers removed his mask and curled your fingers in his black hair. And this time, it was you who brought your lips together in the most passionate kiss.

[dreamescapeswriting]

Old Friends ~ JJK [Request]

WORD COUNT: 2k

PAIRING: Jungkook x Reader

GENRE: old friends to lovers, angst (not involving Jungkook) fluffy ending

WARNING: Mentions of knives, life endangerment, blood

All anyone ever wanted from you was your money, all they ever wanted to do was use you for what you had. It was exhausting constantly having to watch your back for someone who might double-cross you. 

"We'll see you Monday," Your lawyer announced as you began to walk out of your home office with him. They were there to help you with a problem, one of your so-called friends had been stealing money from you and the businesses that you ran. There was a reason never to hire friends to work for you. 

"You look tired, you should get some sleep." Your live-in maid said as she saw you walking towards the staircase of your home. Glancing over at her you smiled weakly, 

"I will. I just need something to eat first." You mumbled before walking down the spiral staircase to see your lawyer out and finally have something to it. You felt as though you hadn't eaten all day. You'd been in and out of business meetings at the office and when you finally got home you were doing the same thing all over again.

Strolling down the corridor toward the kitchen you froze when you saw one of the guest bedroom doors were open. It wouldn't have been Roseanne as she shut and locked every door that she entered.

Slowly pushing it open you frowned seeing the state of the room, clothes were strewn about all over the floor. It looked as if someone had been living in the room without you knowing about it.

As you were about to turn around to find Roseanne someone came out of the bathroom door and you screamed. 

"Shit! Miss Y/L/n," Jungkook, one of the men that worked inside of your house began to blush and apologise over and over again. Jungkook had been working for you for almost 12 years, he'd started working in your family when you were 18 and continued to work with you when the rest of your family had passed. 

"Jungkook. What are you doing?" You questioned as you covered your eyes and began to head for the exit. Though he was covered by a towel you weren't going to stare at him the entire time. 

"I'm sorry Y/n, I didn't have anywhere to go, I thought it would-"

"Just...Just get changed and talk to me outside," You giggled a little at the thought of him stammering over his words around you. The two of you had practically known each other your whole lives. Even when he didn't work for your family his mother and father did. 

"Here," You pushed some food in front of Jungkook with a mug of hot chocolate and sat down at the table. The two of you hadn't sat down to talk like this in almost five years, it felt weird to you doing it now.

"I needed a place to stay," He told you as he looked at the food, debating whether or not to eat it. 

"You could have told me. I would have given you a better room than the smaller guest bedroom." Jungkook knew that you were kind to him but he never wanted to impose himself upon you, 

"Y/n, I never wanted you to think-"

"That you were using me?" You questioned as you looked up at him. Taking a chip from his plate and giving it to yourself. 

"You know I would never accuse you of something like that Kookie," A blush began to creep up on Jungkook's cheeks as he heard the nickname you used to use for him. It had been too long since he had the name fall from your lips. 

"You haven't called me that in years," He laughed softly as he looked up at you. The first time he'd really looked at you and taken in your appearance for a while.

You'd changed so much from the last time he'd sat down with you like this. You were matured, beautiful but you still had that goofy smile that he loved so much.

"I haven't seen you in years...You're always too busy." You laughed as you sipped on your drink. The two of you had barely seen one another since both of your families passed away.

"I'm too busy? I think the woman who runs multiple businesses and manages an empire is busier than me." He scoffed shaking his head at you,

"I do not manage an empire and they're not my businesses, they were my fathers." You reminded him as you began to play with the cup in front of you. The subject of your father was always a tricky one between the two of you. He'd always hated Jungkook because he knew of your strong feelings toward him and forbade you from ever pursuing them.

"I'm sorry about that...Again," Jungkook whispered as he remembered when your dad had passed away. The man had left everything to you in his will which you hated him for. 

Everything he knew that you didn't want he gave to you. This was never the life you wanted. Always having to watch your back in case someone was going to stab you in it. You'd seen how crazy it had driven your father and it was as if this was all some kind of sick joke to him to make you deal with it.

"It's not your fault he died." You mumbled as you looked up at him. He'd gotten so skinny it was a wonder why you had never noticed it before. You'd wondered why he never tried to come to you for help in the first place.

"You're going to stay in the guest room upstairs," You ordered him as you began to eat casually. Jungkook knew never to disobey you, you always won arguments with him anyway.

"Fine, but you have to take money for rent out of my payments." You shook your head at him. 

"No, because then how are you going to find your own place?" He glared at you playfully throwing a chip at your forehead as you screamed out.

"Hey!" You laughed picking up a chip from your own plate and throwing it back at him, 

"No fair." He chuckled doing it again.

The two of you sat throwing food back and forth at one another until Roseanne came into the kitchen. Laughing to herself when she saw the two of you together for the first time in a long time. 

"Having fun?" She laughed when she saw you both giggling with one another. 

"Too much fun, I'm sorry about the mess. Let me help," You told her as you began to go over to the mess you had left around the kitchen. 

"No, no, both of you should go and wash up and go to sleep. It's late." Smiling at her you and Jungkook began to head up the stairs toward the guest bedrooms and your own. 

The longer Jungkook stayed with you the more you began to feel young again. Everything felt as though you had gone back in time to when you were 18 and having fun. With Jungkook around, you didn't have to worry about him using you for money or only being there because you paid him to. The two of you genuinely enjoyed being around one another.

"Hey I made us popcorn withmelted chocolate," You called out from the kitchen to who you thought was Jungkook coming into the house. 

"Kookie?" You laughed moving out from the kitchen to greet him when you saw your ex-boyfriend. The bowl dropped from your hand smashing against the hardwood floor.

"It's a pleasure to see you too," He smirked as he walked over to you, taking your body into his and hugged you tightly. You froze in place. Terrified to even move an inch as you felt his arms around you. 

"Who's Kookie?" You moved away from him the second his arms released you. You scolded yourself for not keeping the panic button in your kitchen.

"Y/n! I got us a bunch of Ryan Reynold movies and I-" Jungkook stopped speaking when he saw your Ex standing there. Neither of you knew he'd gotten out of prison.

Your ex was known amongst everyone in Seoul as the Immortal Dragon and had been caught and arrested almost two years ago. Everyone feared him because he was a mafia leader. Killed people for fun and the fact that he was there made you fear everything. 

"I heard the funniest rumour while I was in prison," He laughed as he began to walk towards you, picking up a knife from the knife block.

"That the woman I loved and devoted myself to helped keep me in prison." You began to back up toward Jungkook, hoping that the two of you could make it out of the house before your ex did something irrational. 

"That's crazy, right? She wouldn't do that to me." The knife he was holding was stabbed into the counter and you flinched. Stepping onto some broken glass and hissing as you felt it pierce your foot. 

"Whatever you want, just leave," Jungkook warned as he put you behind him to stop any immediate danger from happening to you.

"You're just the help, you might as well leave. This is between the adults." Jungkook stayed in place as he looked at you and to your ex. 

"It's every bit of my business if you're hurting the one I love." He stood his ground even when your ex picked the knife up once again.

"You should leave if you want to continue living."

"You should leave if you're going to continue threatening Jungkook." You snapped as you stepped in front of Jungkook to face your ex. There was no reason you should fear him, he'd proven many times before that he would never hurt a woman. 

"I just wanted to know why you turned me in," You scoffed, 

"Because you killed people, what other reason is there. You're a sick, twisted mother fucker and I'm glad you got caught." The knife was raised above your head but you didn't move. You stared straight back at him.

"Get out before I call the police." You ordered as he stared back at you, throwing the knife against one of the cupboards and sticking it in place.

"Are you stupid?! What if he'd stabbed you?!" Jungkook panicked as soon as the door to your house shut and he was gone. Jungkook took you into his arms, pressing your head against his chest. 

"He'd never hurt a woman," You mumbled as he began kissing the top of your head. Your hurt fluttering from each and every small kiss he gave to you.

"You don't know that, you could have been hurt," He whispered as you both sat on the sofa together. 

"I'm fine Kookie," You pulled away from his chest and looked at him as he blushed. The thought of something happening to you killing him inside. 

"I don't know what I would have done if he hurt you," He mumbled and you smiled reaching up to touch his cheek. 

"I don't know what I would have done." You counted, kissing his lips softly. Jungkook's eyes widened before he relaxed, bringing you closer to him as he kissed you back.

"I guess that means you still have feelings," He mumbled against your lips as you pulled away for air, 

"It does." You breathed out, pushing your hands into his hair and pulling him to lay down on the sofa with you. 

Tagline: @lyoongx @mitzwinchester @rjsmochii @taestannie @sw33tnight @sweeneyblue1 @jin-from-the-block​ @acciocriativity​ @taeechwitaa​ @mwitsmejk​ @justbangtanthingz​ @stillwithlix​

[firefly-in-darkness]

Go For Broke

Pairing → Ransom Drysdale x Reader

Characters → Brief mentions of Knives Out characters (maybe?)

Summary → A little bet has big consequences.

Word Count → 2.7k

Warnings → 18+, Swearing, Smut, Angst

Betas → @kalesrebellion // all mistakes are my own.

Prompts → Bee's 7K of the Week Challenge; Monday - Ransom Drysdale, Tuesday - Smangst, Friday - Work Function, Saturday - The Dating Bet, (a blink of a praise kink for Sunday).

AFG2021 Square Fill→ "I said 'be sexy', not be a fucking blowfish" @anyfandomgoesbingo

A/N → As I mentioned above, this is for @negans-lucille-tblr writing challenge - congrats on 7k baby!! (I even kept it under 3k for you it wasn't going to be!) This is my first time writing for Ransom, and it doesn't have any connection to Knives Out, it's an AU.

As always, comments and reblogs are appreciated💕

Firefly’s Masterlist

You carried two steaming mugs of coffee and nudged the ajar door open with your foot to Ransom’s office. He had leant back on the large leather chair and was taking in the views through the floor to ceiling windows.

He spun round in his chair and you were hit with the scent of his cologne, it had your stomach fluttering with butterflies. His legs parted wide, and the sight was something to behold; the thickness of his thighs and the way his large hand rubbed the top of one.

It was never going to happen between you two. He was Ransom Drysdale, a well-known playboy and skirt chaser. And you, you were his assistant.

He wasn’t the type of man you were after. You wanted someone permanent, someone, that wasn’t just a fuck buddy. But at least you got a little something for the spank bank every now and then.

“Like what you see?” You were caught red-handed by his crystal blue eyes and the lopsided smirk that you adored.

You brought the iPad in front of him to life, “This is your schedule for today. Harlan said that he’s rescheduled the board meeting with Walt to next week so we can relax a little bit. Said there was something to do with taking a risk or gamble?”

Ransom’s head snapped up, and his tongue darted out across his lip, a nervous tick that you’d long ago discovered. You felt a warmth bloom at your core and tried to hide the way your thighs nestled together to ease the growing heat.

Ransom scooted backwards in his chair and announced, “I need to get out of here.”

“You’ve just arrived, you can’t play hooky, you’re the boss.” You protested.

“That’s exactly why I can,” Ransom asserted and pulled his coat back on. “Let’s get lunch at that diner we went to last month. It’s quiet and nobody knows me there.”

You had become used to the whirlwind that Ransom brought with him the second he entered a room, but this was different. He seemed on edge rather than angry and you weren’t sure what had happened in the ten minutes you were away making a coffee.

“But I just made us coffee.” You pouted at him; he knew that you needed that delicious nectar.

“I’m buying lunch now get your coat,” Ransom demanded.

You rolled your eyes and did what you were told, much to your chagrin.

Ransom had driven like a mad man in his classic beamer to get you to Ruby’s Diner in record time. You scolded him once or twice when he just missed the red lights. But he didn’t seem to relax like he usually did when he entered.

All was forgiven when the waitress placed two steaming plates of burgers and milkshakes on the table. You were in heaven and thanked the waitress as you dunked a chip in the sauce.

“What is wrong with you today?” You asked.

“What are you talking about? I’m just being my usual self.” Ransom shook his head and threw the raggedy napkin across the table away from him.

You remained silent and continued to eat, allowing him to stew over whatever it was that was eating at him. It didn’t take you long to demolish your lunch, but Ransom still hadn’t touched his food. All he had done since you told him off was chew on his lip and glared at the sugar dispenser.

“Okay, seriously, you need to start talking.” You challenged.

He sighed and dragged a hand down his face, “Okay, but you can’t freak out.”

“What did you do?” Your eyes went wide as your mind ran wild with all the crazy things that he could possibly do in the last twenty-four hours.

Ransom looked up at you and laughed, “I can’t take you seriously right now.”

“What?” You frowned, feeling a mixture of confusion painted across your features.

His hand gripped your chin and his thumb swiped away at the sauce that you’d long forgotten. The heat on your cheeks grew tenfold and you coughed when he hadn’t removed his hand from your jaw.

“Ah yeah sorry. Sauce.” He stammered.

You smirked, you’d never seen him this worked up before, what had gotten into him, “So?”

“Okay, don’t fucking freak out on me but someone in the office wanted to make a bet with me. About you.”

You stared at him, all of your thoughts emptied out into the diner, “I’m sorry, what? I think you need to say a bit more than that.”

Ransom explained how one of your co-workers approached him and placed a bet that he wouldn’t be able to bed you before the corporate summer party.

“Who the fuck was it?” You growled; hands clenched on the edge of the seat.

“I’m not telling, I don’t want you to start a fight. You’re my favourite pers-assistant.” Ransom shook his head and began to nibble on the fries. His face screwed up at the realisation they were cold.

“Hold on. You agreed, didn’t you?” Your heart raced.

“I did. I have a reputation to uphold.” He smirked, “and was worth it, you should see your face right now.”

You scowled harder, “how much was the bet?”

“Ten thousand.” He shrugged.

“Fuckin’ hell Ransom, you’re cocksure, aren’t you?” You laughed at him, “why did you accept it?”

“That’s loose change to me.” Ransom shrugged and brought the replaced milkshake to his lips, tongue curling around the straw.

“Fine, I’ll do it. But I want half.” You explained, mirroring his action with your own milkshake.

Ransom choked on his drink and quickly rushed out his words, “you what?”

“We aren’t having sex, Ransom.” You rolled your eyes and placed the drink down, “If they ask, I’ll just say we did. It keeps your reputation intact. No harm, no foul.”

“They want proof.” He raises his eyebrow.

“Fuck sake, okay. Come over to mine tomorrow night and we’ll take some fake dirty pictures.” Without waiting for a response, you stepped out of the booth, “Now, I do have some work to do and funnily enough, so do you.”

“Anyone would think you were the boss.” Ransom playfully sulked and placed some money on the table.

“I might as well be.” You gestured towards the door, “Move it.”

The black baby doll was just perfect for this photo session. It was a little see-through, but your modesty was covered with the lace detailing skimming the tops of your thighs. Butterflies fluttered in your stomach, but you had to get this over with sooner or later. With one final look in the mirror, you steeled your nerves and opened the bathroom door and slowly walked to your bedroom.

“Hello,” You anxiously stuttered, “Where do you want me?”

Ransom’s eyes darkened at the sight of you, his large hands rubbing along his thick thighs, just the way you had admired yesterday. You internally berated yourself, this wasn’t sex. It was all fake. It was an easy win for you both - Ransom kept his reputation and you got a nice little pot of gold for a rainy day, or week.

“Just lay down on the bed and look sexy.” He commented, unhelpfully.

You nodded and shuffled around until you found a comfortable position, with your arms draped above you. It didn’t feel sexy, it felt awkward and uncomfortable. Why is this so hard? You took a deep breath and tried to relax your body and turned to face Ransom. He’d moved the left side of the bed, his phone in hand ready to take the shot.

“Ready?” Ransom asked, and you thought you saw a sparkle of sincerity in his eyes with his one worded question.

“Yes,” you said and gave him your best pout and ‘fuck me’ eyes.

“I said ‘be sexy’, not be a fucking blowfish.” Ransom snapped.

You bolted up from your position, kneeling on the edge of the bed to get back on his level but it was no use, the man was still towering over you, “I’m trying, I’m not exactly in the mood.”

Ransom raised his brow from above, and you hadn’t quite realised how close you were to him, his stomach mere inches from your chest. The lack of response grated on you, his face was irritating, and you were ready to shove the five grand up his ass.

“Actually, this could work.” Ransom pulled off his shirt and revealed the tight muscles. Your anger morphed into desire; you wanted to reach forward and touch him but kept your hands refrained at your sides. “Now, look up at me and bite your lip.”

“Perfect.” He smiled down at you and cupped your face. His thumb stroked the apple of your cheek and paired with his words; a shiver ran down your spine.

Instinctively, you bit down your lip and unbuckled his belt to the sound of the camera shutter. Hands traced Ransom’s abdomen and he sucked in a breath as you stroked a sensitive spot.

“Sorry,” you mumbled and looked up at him, “maybe we should have some photos where your face is in it too?”

Ransom didn’t need to be asked twice, he pulled down his chinos and exposed his thick muscular thighs. Your mouth watered and warmth bloomed in your tummy at the sight of the black Calvin Klein’s hugging his groin.

You rearranged your position to lie down amongst the sheets while Ransom crawled onto the bed to kneel between your legs. His hand cupped under your knee and hoisted one of them up to his hip.

“You might need to take this one,” he handed the phone to you.

Just as you went to take the photograph, Ransom’s other hand slid underneath the baby doll. It sent another wave of pleasure through your body. His smooth hands stooped just beneath your breast and it almost made you whimper. Almost.

With an attempt to gather your bearings, you decided to focus on his phone and snap a few pictures of this new position. But seeing those little images captured and whizz into the corner made you want more. There was no point denying it as you felt the tell-tale signs of your arousal between your legs. But did Ransom want it?

Ransom moved the sheer material up and lifted your leg higher, over his shoulder. Before you could ask what, he was doing, his body dipped down, his lips so close to pressing against your stomach. Oh god. Your body instantly betrayed you as your hand went straight into his messy short locks eliciting a deep groan from Ransom. His hot breath fanned across your skin, goosebumps raising in its flow.

You took some more pictures, feeling the wetness pooling in your panties, the heat growing and growing up your body. Ransom returned to kneeling and you noticed the prominent bulge in his pants, and you finally got your answer. He did want it.

A mischievous smirk replaced the smile on your lips, “you’ll want to take these.”

You sat up and turned around so that you were kneeling in front of him and giving a great view of your behind. Ransom couldn’t restrain himself, his hands instantly gripped at your hips and pulling you back towards him. He growled and you whimpered as he rutted between your cheeks.

“Ransom, the photos?” You sang out and smirked into the pillow.

“Oh yeah, right.” Ransom spluttered and began to take the photographs from this new position then you heard the soft thud of the phone dropping onto the mattress, “hang on a minute.”

Gracefully, he spun you around and managed to get underneath you to seat you just above his hips. You were entranced by the dark lust-filled eyes that studied your body, following the hands that skimmed along your waist.

His touch sent sparks across the exposed skin of your chest, his fingers toying with the lace trim as they descended the plunging neckline and over your breasts. You rocked against his stomach, giving you just a little bit of pleasure from the friction at your core.

Ransom bolted upright, one arm wrapping around you while his other hand brought you closer until his mouth met yours. The kiss was heated, it pulled you deeper into the need for more, to have him deep inside of you. Ransom’s tongue swiped along your bottom lip, demanding access and you obliged without hesitation.

You’d only thought of him, like this, late at night and alone. It was nothing compared to your wildest fantasies to have him kissing you like this or to feel him hard beneath you. You squirmed to feel him better, but he broke the kiss.

“Sorry,” He panted.

Your stomach plummeted at the thought of him regretting what had barely started, “For what?”

“I shouldn’t have,” Ransom avoided eye contact and ran his fingers through his hair, messing it up even more than you already had done, “we just got carried away.”

“Ransom, if you don’t fuck me right now, I will kick you out.” You raised your eyebrow in a challenge.

He didn’t need to be told twice.

Chatter and laughter filled the gaps of the song blasting through the speakers set up around the roof terrace. The large projector screen reeled through photographs of colleagues, in and out of work, successes in the tabloids and social media. Pool water splashed over the edges with each dive-bomb or flirtatious swish between colleagues. You watched on behind the sunglasses and relished in the sunshine beating down. It was rare to have such perfect weather and you wanted to soak up as much of the rays as you could.

The moment you spotted Ransom talking to a few people over at the bar, you thought now would be the best time to approach him. It had been a few hours since you arrived, and you only last saw him the morning before, and a few weeks since that first night. You both wanted to take things slow, it wasn’t how you expected things to happen but neither of you regretted it.

The nearer you got to the bar, you suddenly felt like everyone’s eyes were on you. Side glances from the Marketing girls, a laugh, and a grimace from a few others. Then you saw Ransom rushing up to you but also looking behind.

Before he reached you, you spun around to the projector and saw a display of all the photos you and Ransom had taken that night. Your stomach dropped, nausea taking over until you were about to collapse on the floor.

Hands gripped your shoulders, spinning you on the spot. You looked at the terrified gaze of Ransom. His lips were moving but your ears buzzed with the hum of blood pumping through. Unable to process what had happened, you tried to escape. To get away from the people that were staring, gawking, at you. At you and Ransom on the screen and then down to the pair by the bar.

“Please talk to me,” Ransom pleaded, “I didn’t know that’s what she was going to do.”

“Did you sleep with her?” You asked, your mind reeling with how this could be a vendetta against Ransom, and you’re caught in the crossfire.

Ransom’s eyes widened, “Yeah, probably a year ago.”

“You fuckin’ idiot. Get out of my way.” You tried to walk past him, but he blocked your path.

“Can I come with you?” He asked face paled.

You scowled, “No. Move.”

Ransom followed you, weaving between the crowds of sniggers and laughter. You could hear him pleading, almost begging for you to stop but you refused. You needed to get out of there and he was making it more difficult.

You skimmed the edge of the pool and Ransom grabbed your bicep, attempting to stop and turn you around. Without a second thought, you spun and shoved him. He fell backwards into the pool with a great splash. It only made you feel good for a split second until he resurfaced.

“Consider this my notice, I quit.” You turned on your heel and left the party, your job and Ransom behind.

The End.

Everything Tag List

@kitkatd7 / @fandomfic-galore / @writerwrites / @thefridgeismybestie / @wedonttalkaboutitenough / @courtneychicken / @persephonesinfernos / @miraclesoflove / @lizzarooni / @queenoftheunderdark / @alwaysclassyeagle / @little-diable

If you would like to be added to my taglist then complete this form

[a-writer-on-elm-street]

Close

Pairing: Negan x Fem!Reader

Summary: You convince Negan to go with you to the frozen lake but shortly after arriving, you fall through the ice and Negan has to try and save you.

Warning: Some strong language.

"Come on," you whined, frowning as Negan refused to agree to your proposal. Since you hadn't been out for a while, you decided it'd be a good idea to go to the frozen lake. And you were going to ask Negan to go with you, but he pretty much said no the second you brought it up. "Please." You tried again, trying not to sound too desperate.

He shook his head, laughing. "No, I'm not goin' to the damn lake with you."

"Why not?"

He sighed, turning to look at you. "Because I'm not five years old, that's why."

"I'll bring beer." You offered, but still earning the same response from him.

"Nope."

It was lucky you'd anticipated his refusal, because now all you had to do was switch to plan B. You just hoped it'd work on him. "Alright, how about this?" you started, "If you go with me to the lake, then maybe I'll do something for you later."

"I'm listening." He smirked, sitting up. He may have been the leader of the Sanctuary, but there was one thing he would never say no to.

"What if," you said, smiling slightly as you slowly approached him. "I gave you a reward for doing this for me."

"Hm, that depends on what you plan on givin' me." Negan grumbled, leaning back on the couch as you climbed onto his lap.

"You know exactly what I'll give you." You said quietly, as you leaned closer to his body, dragging your fingers through his hair. It only took a few more seconds for him to break.

"Well, then I guess we're goin' to the lake."

***

As you skidded across the ice, you noticed Negan had regained his scowl as he stood to the side, kicking his feet into the snow. You'd think since your little proposal earlier, he'd be a bit happier about this. But no, he was just stood there, looking like he'd rather be anywhere else.

"Come on Negan," you called, "It's fun."

"It's fucking stupid," he scoffed, looking up at you slightly. "What are you, a kid?"

"God you're an ass."

Before Negan could respond, you heard something crack beneath your feet. And when you looked down, you saw that the ice was now fracturing beneath you. "Negan?" You choked out, looking up at him. He was now watching you with worried eyes.

"It's alright," he tried to assure you. "Just carefully...walk towards me."

"Are you fucking kidding me? I'll fall through."

"No you won't, just come on."

As you stared at him in desperation, you could feel your heart racing. He was really going to make you walk across the ice wasn't he? Taking a sharp breath, you slowly put your foot forward, but seconds later, the ice cracked further and you froze. This was way too dangerous. But you were in the middle of an apocalypse, you couldn't exactly call for emergency services. Walking to Negan was the only way out of this. But as you went to take another step, the sky suddenly vanished and all that surrounded you was darkness. But you could hardly pay attention to your surroundings as it felt like you were being stabbed by a thousand knives. And it took merely seconds to realise the lake had opened up and dragged you down into the water. The pain had pretty much subsided after a couple of minutes and your body was now just numb as you floated helplessly under the ice. You were going to die.

When you closed your eyes, you thought you could hear the faint echo of Negan's voice above you. But you just believed it must have been your brain trying to provide you with some sort of comfort as you slipped away. A few more seconds passed and you finally allowed yourself to be swallowed by the darkness.

***

"(y/n)?" A soft voice sounded in your ears as you kept your eyes shut. "(y/n), you okay?"

"Ugh, what?" You groaned, your eyes remaining closed.

"So, not dead then?" You were able to hear Negan's quiet laugh beside you now. Were you really alive?

"Negan?" You said, opening your eyes as you tried to sit up. He was sitting at your bedside, a small smile on his face. As you stared at him, you suddenly felt tears brimming in your eyes.

"Hey, it's alright," he said as you began to cry. Without thinking, you wrapped your arms around him, clinging to him desperately as you struggled to comprehend what had happened. You could've died today, and now you were here, alive. Surprisingly, Negan didn't pull away. Instead, he simply held you, continuing to whisper to you that everything was okay.

"I'm sorry," you choked out, your cheek still pressed against his shoulder.

"Hey," he said, pulling back so he could look at you. "None of this is your fault, I shoulda been on there with you. Maybe then you wouldn't of fell through the ice."

"I shoulda just listened to you in the first place."

"Yeah, but then I wouldn't be gettin' my reward," he chuckled. "Speaking of, when you're feelin' better, I expect you to deliver."

You smiled, "Don't worry, I will."

TAG LIST

@iluvneganandjamie @harrysthiccthighss

[thetravelerwrites]

Alexei (Part 2) Lemon

Rating: Mature Relationships: Female Human/Male Satyr Additional Tags: Exophilia, Monster Boyfriend, Satyr, Arranged Marriage, Fake Marriage, Strangers to Lovers, Reader Insert, Illness Words: 6143

A commission for @thebimess​​! A sudden illness changes the nature of the reader's and Alexei's relationship. Please reblog and leave feedback!

The Traveler's Masterlist

You left the next morning before Alexei woke, as usual, but the walk to the bathhouse, which was only across the street, was more difficult than it had been before. Within an hour, you felt exhausted and weak, as if there were steel bands constricting your chest, preventing you from taking a full breath. There was a sharp pain in your side every time you breathed in.

“You don’t sound well,” Your work neighbor, Ellie, said. “There’s a nasty whistle when you take a breath. Are you alright, lovie?”

“Yes, I’m alright,” You lied. “Don’t worry about me, I can carry on.”

“If you say so.”

At some point during the day, you were called out of the laundry room.

“Am I in trouble?” You asked the matron.

“No, dearie,” The matron said, looking concerned. “We went and called on your husband to take you home. You’ve looked like you’re going to fall into the tubs all day.”

“I can work, Madam, I’m fine,” You protested.

“Nonsense,” She said. “Let your husband take you home. The last thing I need is a corpse on my working floor, you got me, missy?”

“Yes, Madam,” You said.

Alexei stood up from where he was sitting in the front room. As soon as he saw you, his face pinched in concern.

“You’re terribly pale,” Alexei said, coming close. “What’s happened?”

“Nothing,” You gasped. “I just have a little cold or something, it’s nothing to worry about.” It was unfortunate that at that moment, your feet decided to trip over themselves and you stumbled into him.

“Oy, oy,” He said, helping you right yourself. He put a hand to your head. “My word, you are boiling, pet! Let’s get you back home and lay you down. Madam, thank you for sending for me. Will you need compensation for the time she’s not working?”

“We’ll figure that out later. Get that child in a bed.”

“Yes, Madam.”

Alexei managed to drag you back to your room and helped you out of your short cloak and shoes. He steered you toward your bedroll and lay you down in it. As soon as your body hit the blankets, it gave out and you lost consciousness.

When you woke, it was dark. You had a wet rag on your forehead, your body feeling as though you’d been trampled by horses. Though you were bundled up, you felt like you were going to freeze. Breathing was like being stabbed with knives. As you inhaled and exhaled, there was a gravelly rasp that you could feel in your lungs. You made a sound of discomfort, and suddenly Alexei’s face came into your field of vision.

“You’re awake,” He said, taking the rag from your head. “Can you sit up? You need to drink.”

“Help me,” You croaked. He wedged his arm under your shoulders and lifted you. Your body screamed in agony and you gave a pained cry. “I can’t breathe,” You told him. “I feel like I’m drowning.”

“I know,” He said, his face scrunching in sympathy. “The physician has been ‘round to see you. You have pneumonia, he says.”

“Pneumonia?” You repeated.

“Yes,” He said, tipping a cup of water for you to drink. “He doesn’t think you’re infectious, since no one you’ve been around has developed symptoms. He left me some medicine to give you, powdered willow bark and peppermint.”

“That must have been expensive,” You wheezed. “How much did it cost you?”

“Let me worry about the expense,” He said, urging you to drink more. “Just concentrate on getting better.”

“But my job…” You protested. “I’ll be sacked...”

“Stop fussing,” He admonished. “I’ll take care of it. I’ll take care of everything. Just rest.”

“I’m cold,” You said piteously, beginning to cry.

“I know,” He said again, stroking a strand of your hair from your forehead. “It’s the fever. I can’t make you warmer or you could die.”

“It hurts,” You said. “Let me die.”

“Don’t say that. You’ll be alright,” He soothed, laying you carefully back on the bedroll. “Let me get your medicine.”

Every day, Alexei woke you four times a day for your breathing treatment, which consisted of steeping the peppermint leaves in boiling water and having you inhale the vapor, and to take some fluids, usually water, tea, or broth. He stuck to this schedule without fail, and while it irritated you, you knew somewhere in your subconscious that he was saving your life. The peppermint vapor helped ease your breathing some and the willow bark prevented the fever from becoming dangerous, but it still felt as though you were dying.

Five days in, he woke you for your treatments.

“No, I can’t,” You cried weakly.

“Yes, you can,” He said patiently. “But I want to show you something first. Let’s sit you up, pet.” He lifted you up gingerly and sat behind you so that you were resting with your back to his front and your head on his shoulder. “Can you open your eyes?”

Your eyes felt glued together, but you managed to pry them open. “What do you want to show me?”

“Look,” He said, pointing at the wall where the fireplace was. “Can you see?”

It took a moment for your eyes to focus, but when it did, you saw flowers. Hundreds, thousands of tiny flowers painted on the wall. It was a field, a meadow, and a sweet little cottage sat in the middle next to a small pond. Every color you could think of waved in the painted breeze. It was dusk, and the sky was pink-gold with fluffy clouds of silver floating along it. Little ducks, chickens, and baby goats gathered around the steps to the cottage, and there, a woman who looked much like you stood scattering seeds from a basket on her arm. She wore a crown of flowers on her head.

“Oh,” You breathed, a tear rolling down your cheek as your body trembled weakly against his. “It’s beautiful.”

He rubbed his hands up and down your arms. “I’m glad you like it. I worked on it while you were sleeping. I was going to just paint a small piece of wood with flowers and fruit for you to carry in your pocket, but… it didn’t feel good enough.”

“I would have loved that, too,” You said. “Won’t you get in trouble with the landlord for this?”

“I asked permission,” He said softly into your hair.

You began to sob. “It’s the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me. I just wish I weren’t dying so I could enjoy it properly.”

“You’re not going to die, love,” He said, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and rocking you gently side-to-side. “I won’t let you. You have a fiance to piss off; you can’t die before then. I’m looking forward to the day when I can watch you tell him to stick that contract where the sun don’t shine.”

You laughed through your tears. “Why couldn’t I haven’t been promised to you instead?”

He laughed, too. “You’re too independent and headstrong for me, love. I like women who can’t fend for themselves. They don’t realize what I twat I am.”

You chuckled. You spent a few minutes in silence, staring at the lovely gift Alexei had made for you. And then it was time for tea and treatments before he let you rest again, all the while he stroked your hair and hummed a soft tune under his breath.

It took eight days for the fever to break. Thankfully, you were unconscious for most of it, since consciousness was nothing short of torture. You couldn’t eat and could barely swallow. Every breath was like your lungs were catching fire over and over again.

Once the fever broke and you were able to stand up, Alexei paid a substantial amount to rent you a private bathing room with soaps, shampoos, fruit, cheese, and wine. Every luxury had been seen to and Alexei had spared no expense. When you offered to pay him back, he simply ruffled your hair and told you not to worry about it, saying that you’d earned a nice day for yourself.

He asked your coworker, Ellie, to help you wash up and to watch over you, since you were still weak and had a terrible cough. It was nice to have another friend sitting with you to talk; you hadn’t really had a girl-friend before.

Thanks to Alexei, you didn’t end up dying, but recovery was painfully slow. By the time the six months of the marriage was up, you’d only just started to feel like your old self again, but you still tired easily and couldn’t push yourself for too long.

The two of you packed your room to travel back to Red Landing, selling the furniture you’d purchased when first arriving in Dunmountain.

“Are you ready to go back?” Alexei asked as he helped you up into the driver’s box.

“Not really,” You said. “I’m not looking forward to facing my parents. Or Gregory. Just because I know he’ll be utterly obnoxious about it.”

“Well, don’t worry about a thing, pet,” He said. “If the bastard tries to make off with you like a prowler in the night, I’ll be there to stop him.”

You smiled at him. “Thank you. I’m glad to have you as a friend, Alexei. I’m sorry if I ever insinuated that you weren’t.”

“Water under the bridge, my pet,” He said, patting your hand before trotting around the mule and hopping up to sit next to you. “Shall we?”

“Eh?” You said with a noncommittal shrug. Laughing, he took that as a yes and snapped the mule to movement.

The trip back was comfortable, despite your nerves, and took far less time than the trip to Dunmountain had, since you were walking for half of that one. The two of you either slept in the vardo or rented a room at an inn. After six months of sharing a space, sleeping in the same room was second nature by now, so there was no reason to rent two rooms.

When you reached the boundaries of Red Landing, you wrapped your arms around yourself and took a large breath.

“You’ll be alright, pet,” Alexei said. “If things get too badly out of hand, I have no qualms about loading us back up and doing a legger.”

You smiled. “That’s good to know, I’ll keep it in mind.” You pointed at the crossroads. “Take a left at this fork.”

He nudged the mule left, and it took you out of the marketplace and down the residential track.

“Here. We’re here.”

He stopped the wagon in front of a modestly built wooden house with shuttered windows open in the breeze; your mother had always said that glass was an unnecessary luxury and not worth the cost. There was a simple garden and an apple tree planted next to the walkway up to the front door surrounded by a low stone wall and a wooden gate, which was open.

“That’s odd,” You said as Alexei helped you down. “The gate is never left open.”

“Could they be expecting someone?” He asked.

“I don’t know,” You replied. “All of the windows are open, too. That’s unusual.”

“It’s a nice day,” Alexei said. “They could just be enjoying the fresh air.”

You shook your head. “No, this isn’t like them.”

“Do you think something could be wrong?” He asked, taking you by the forearm and stopping you cautiously.

Before you could respond, your mother appeared at one of the windows, crying out.

“Oh!” She said, her hands to her mouth. “You came back! John, she’s back!”

She disappeared from the window and a few seconds later, the door flew open. She launched herself out of it and into your arms, brushing past Alexei to do so.

“Oh, I’m so happy to see you!” She cried into your shoulder. “I didn’t know if you’d ever return.”

Your father, a gruff looking man with a short beard, came out too. He was less talkative than your mother, but he gathered you up in his arms and held you tight for a moment, releasing you with nary a word, though a small tear fell down his cheek and disappeared into his whiskers.

“Hi, Papa,” You said. “Hi, Mama.”

“Oh, darling, we were hoping you’d come back! We left the windows open, so we could hear you coming. They’ve been open every day since you disappeared.”

You sighed, feeling guilty. “I’m sorry I vanished on you without saying anything. But you understand why I had to do that, don’t you?”

You mother regarded you warily. “Darling… you know how important the investment is for us. We had so many plans.”

“Mother,” You said sternly. “I’m not marrying that man.”

“Be reasonable,” She pleaded. “We can do so much once our business gets off the ground. For you, as well.”

“I don’t think there’s anything unreasonable about wanting to be treated like a human being and not a possession to be sold,” You said, your voice raised. “What happened to you two? What happened to working for what you want? What happened to never trusting a gift? Do I mean so little to you that you’d make a deal with the devil so that you don’t have to work anymore?”

“I can’t believe how ungrateful you are!” Your mother replied, scowling. “Do you know how long we had to wait for this? Do you know what we sacrificed for you?”

“I never asked you to sacrifice anything for me!”

Your mother slapped you. “Don’t raise your voice to your mother!”

Suddenly you were yanked back. Alexei had pulled you behind him and stood between you and your parents.

“I understand family matters can get heated,” He said evenly. “But I must insist that you not strike my wife. She’s still recovering from being quite ill.”

“Wife?” Your father repeated, the first thing he’s said since you returned. “What’s this about a wife? Who are you?”

You heard that but not that I was ill? You thought bitterly.

“My name is Alexei,” He said, his voice deep and imposing. “I’m your daughter’s husband.”

There was an awkward silence as your parents took that information in.

“Why don’t you come in and we can… discuss this,” Your father said, motioning for your mother to follow him inside.

Before you could follow after them, Alexei stopped you. He touched your chin and tilted your head, examining the cheek where your mother had struck you.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” You replied. “Let’s get this over with. It’s going to be painful, either way.”

He grimaced and opened his mouth to say something, but thought the better of it and shut it again, stepping aside to let you pass.

Inside, your mother was setting out tea. Your father sat in his usual chair with his arms folded, looking at Alexei unfavorably. You frowned at him. It’s a little late to be playing the concerned father, isn’t it, Papa?

Your mother sat down next to your father across the table from you. You took the marriage license from your bag as she set out the teacups and unfolded it showing them.

“You can inspect it and send a letter to the magistrate, if you wish.”

Your mother cleared her throat, not looking at the document. “So… how did the two of you… meet?”

You tried to answer, but you felt your mouth dry up.

“She took shelter from the rain in my carriage one night, actually,” Alexei said, laughing a little. “I didn’t even notice her until the next day halfway through my journey. But when I did, it was love at first sight. I did everything I could from that moment on to woo her.”

“How soon after you met did you marry?”

“Three days.”

Both your mother and father’s eyes shot to you suspiciously. You felt the weight of their scrutiny, but didn’t flinch.

“What is it about our daughter you fell in love with?”

You were slightly concerned that Alexei wouldn’t be able to come up with anything, but to your surprise, he answered without hesitation.

“She’s a self-starter, fiercely independent, and has an amazing work ethic, which I imagine is thanks to you.” He gestured at your parents. “She’s headstrong and funny and makes faces when I tease her and is genuinely fun to be around. Not a dull day since I met her.” He turned to look at you fondly. “She’s spent all of our marriage taking very good care of me. Better care than anyone ever has. She’s the only family I’ve ever had, and that means more to me than I can ever express. I count myself blessed to have met her, and doubly blessed to be her husband.”

You couldn’t help but smile softly. He sounded so sincere.

“What about you, dear?” Your mother asked, still looking unmoved. “What is it about Alexei you fell in love with?”

You sat and thought. “I’ll admit, when first the idea of marrying Alexei was presented, I didn’t want to do it.” You didn’t mention that it was you who brought it up. “But Alexei has never been anything but kind to me. He’s silly and talented and he laughs a lot and is never bothered by anything. Not until…”

You stared at your hands, trying to recall the time you’d been ill. “I got sick. Very sick. I almost died, I think. He took care of me. It took a long time for me to get better, and he was there the entire time. He painted an entire wall with flowers and ducks and pretty things for me to look at, just because I’d said I wanted a little painting to brighten up our room. He spend a lot of money for several months on medicine to help me get better. He never got mad at me, never impatient, never frustrated. He didn’t give up on me even when I wanted to die so that the pain would stop. He’s my husband, but he’s also my best friend, and I’m lucky to have him as both.”

That was a hell of a revelation to come to sitting right in front of your parents being interrogated about your fake marriage. Without looking at each other, Alexei flipped his hand and reached for yours, and you took it. He squeezed your fingers firmly. Don’t worry, He seemed to say. Just say the word and we can run.

“So, are you a man of means, Alexei?” You mother asked. “Can you take care of our daughter financially?”

“She’s more than capable of doing that herself, you know,” He said levelly. “But yes. I’m a fairly well known painter and I have a decent nest egg set aside to build a home. If the underlying question is, ‘am I going to give you money in exchange for your daughter as if she were goods to be bartered for,’ the answer is no.”

Your father got red in the face and your mother sputtered. You didn’t even try to hide your smug smile.

“Darling,” Your mother said, turning to you and pleading. “It’s not too late to fix this. You can still annul the marriage and marry Gregory. He’ll straighten up after he’s married, most men do!”

You sighed and rubbed your temples in frustration. “Look,” You said, pulling out your coin purse. “This is all the money I took, plus a little more. Since money seems to be the only thing you care about, take this. I don’t owe you anything anymore.”

“I can’t believe you’re doing this to us,” Your mother said angrily, shoving the license back across the table. “After everything we’ve done for you.”

“What? What have you done for me, Mother? You did what you were supposed to do when people have children? Had a child and then raised that child? You don’t get a reward for doing what you’re supposed to do; you taught me that, for God’s sake!”

Your father slammed his hand down on the table and you jumped, letting out a startled squeak. He stood up, his eyes dark.

“Perhaps…” He said slowly. “It’s best if you leave.”

You felt stung. “Happily,” You said, snatching the license from the table and stuffing it in your bag. “I have a feeling that I won’t be back this time.”

“Are we off, then, my pet?” Alexei asked casually, standing and reaching to take your bag.

“Yes,” You said through your teeth. “For good.”

“As you wish, pet,” He replied, taking your hand and wrapping it around his arm. “There’s a lovely tavern a little east of here we might stay. It’s less…” He turned back and looked your parents up and down pointedly. “Money-hungry.”

You asked Alexei if you could ride in the vardo and he was agreeable. As soon as Alexei snapped the reins and the mule lurched forward, you began to sob. You knew he could hear you, because the window near the driver’s box was open. He whistled loudly as the cart rolled, perhaps to disguise or drown out your weeping so you felt less awkward about crying noisily on a crowded street. You appreciated it.

The vardo stopped, you assumed in front of the tavern Alexei spoke of, though he didn’t hop down right away, simply sat in the driver’s box and continued to whistle as you cried. After a time, you pulled yourself together and forced yourself to stuff down the rest of your tears.

“Alexei, I’m alright now,” You said faintly.

He stopped whistling. “I’ll give you some coin. Would you mind getting us a room while I see to the mule and wagon?”

“Sure,” You said tonelessly. You climbed out of the vardo as he came around and held out your hand. Before he handed you the money, he took your chin and tilted your head up, looking at you in concern.

“Are you sure you’re alright, pet?”

You nodded but you didn’t meet his eye.

“I’ll see you inside. Wait for me downstairs and I’ll buy us dinner, alright?”

You nodded again and walked off wordlessly.

Inside, you paid for the room and bought two mugs of ale. Alexei came in after a few minutes and bent down.

“Anything you want specifically?”

“Doesn’t matter,” You replied flatly.

He walked off, and after several minutes he came back, picked up his mug and took your hand, pulling you to your feet.

“Come on, pet,” He said. “I’m having it sent up to our room. You look like you need rest. It’s been a long… trying day, and you’re still not well yet.”

You didn’t argue and allowed yourself to be led upstairs. Once inside, he put your mugs on the provided table while you sat down on the very small bed. You pulled the license back out and stared at it.

“I suppose we should find a magistrate in the morning,” You said. “Six months is up. You held up your end of the bargain. We can have this annulled as early as tomorrow afternoon and be on your way.”

He sat next to you. “Is this a conversation we should have now?”

“There’s no reason not to. I have to think about where I’m going to go.”

“Go?” He echoed.

“I’m not going home, clearly,” You said. “I have an aunt up north, but I don’t know if she’d be any more interested in taking me in than my parents were at listening to me.”

“You could always stay with me,” He said. “Annulling the marriage doesn’t mean we stop being friends.”

“It’s improper for a man and a woman to live together if they’re not married.”

“Who cares what’s improper? We’re adults, we can do what we like.”

“It’s alright, Alexei, I’ll figure something out. I’m resourceful, you know that.”

“I do know that,” He said, reaching over and taking the license, inspecting it. “What if…” He said slowly. “What if we didn’t annul the marriage? What if we stayed married?”

“What are you talking about?” You asked looking up at him. He opened his mouth to speak, but was saved from answering by a knock at the door.

“That’s our dinner, I expect.” He stood up and opened the door, taking a tray from whoever delivered it and closing the door again, putting the tray down on the table.

“Alexei,” You said, standing up. “What do you mean, stay married?”

“Well…” He said, not looking at you and bending over the table, busying himself with placing the food out. “It’s a mutually beneficial arrangement. And we’re good friends, we take care of each other. I can’t think of a single good reason not to stay together.”

“Well, I mean…” You started. “It’s not like we love each other, right?”

He didn’t answer, just continued fussing with the food. You stopped him by putting a hand on his shoulder and gently pushing him upright.

“Right?” You asked again.

He met your gaze, his face a little sad and anxious, and took a big breath.

“When we first got married,” He began slowly. “It was a laugh, something funny and silly to occupy my time. Teasing you was amusing, and I got someone to cook and clean for me as a bonus. I figured that at the end of the six months, I’d just walk away with the money having done my part and never have to see you again. I’d be one step closer to my goal of building a house for myself. I didn’t expect to end up as friends.” He dropped his eyes and took one of your hands in his. “I grew up alone. I expected to live my life alone, and I was happy with that. But when you got sick…”

“Alexei, it’s okay,” You said softly, squeezing his hand.

He shook his head, grimacing as if in pain. “When you got sick, I know I kept telling you to keep your chin up and that you’d be fine, but deep down I was panicking. I wasn’t sure if you’d make it and I was terrified…” His voice shook. “…that I was going to lose the only family I’d ever had. I didn’t sleep at night and watched you all the time to make sure you were still breathing. Whenever I’d try to rouse you to drink and you wouldn’t wake, my heart would stop. I was willing to spend every penny I’d ever earned to fix it. I didn’t want to be alone anymore, and I wanted more than anything for you to live. I wanted you to stay with me. I still do.” He looked up at you again, and there were unshed tears in his eyes. “So stay with me.”

Stunned and moved to silence, you nodded slowly.

He swallowed hard, leaned in, and kissed you. He seemed jumpy, as if he worried you might slap him and he’d need to hop back quickly, but you didn’t slap him. You stepped closer and put your arms around his shoulders, pulling him to you. He sighed in relief and deepened the kiss, wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling your body flush with his. He was only slightly shorter than you, so you had to tilt your head down a little to kiss him, but it was nice. It was comfortable.

Ignoring the food now, he took you to the bed, shedding his vest, tunic, and undershirt. He’d worn his best clothes to meet your family, but now they were left in a pile with your dress on the floor. He unstrung your bodice and you slid it off, pulling your chemise off after it. God, why did being a woman come with so many damn layers?

Finally, you were both undressed and crawled into the bed together, your limbs tangling together. He laid you down on the threadbare blanket and kissed you deeply, touching your body and spreading your legs with his knees. After a moment, though, he stopped and popped up in his hands, peering down at you.

“Are you feeling alright?” He asked, looking concerned. “I may have been a little overeager when you didn’t push me away, but are you well enough to… do this… with me? Are you feeling tired or sick?”

You giggled softly, stroking his cheeks with your thumbs. “I feel incredible,” You said. “Better than I have in a long time. It’s alright, Alexei. I want this. We never had a wedding night, after all.”

He laughed. “I think you’d have thrown a pan at my head if I tried.”

“You’re right,” You replied, pulling him down for another kiss.

He took his time exploring your body, touching and kissing and sucking. He nipped at your skin as he made his way down your belly, tickling your sides to make you giggle and squirm.

“I wish I’d known how soft your body was,” He murmured. “And how warm. I’d have confessed my feelings sooner if I could’ve just curled up next to you at night.”

“Flatterer,” You said, smirking down at him.

“Honest,” He said, kissing your hipbones. “To think, so many cold nights with this beautiful body lying mere feet away. It’s enough to chill a man’s heart.”

“Or something else,” You snickered.

“Speaking of which,” He replied, spreading your legs and kissing lower. His lips touched your… lips… and you inhaled at the new sensation. It wasn’t a bad feeling, just strange since you’d never felt it before. You looked down at him as he teased you, and he looked back up at you. You bit your lip and watched him as he finally pressed his tongue to your pearl, and he watched your flushed, thrilled reaction with fascinated intensity.

Shivers rippled through your body and you let your head fall back onto the pillow as he went to work pleasuring you, gripping your inner thighs tightly to keep your legs wide open. His beard tickled the sensitive skin as he pressed his face firmly into the hollow, pushing his tongue deeply inside you and wiggling it up and down. You moaned and tilted your hips so that he could get even deeper.

“Alexei, please,” You rasped, pulling his hair.

He raised back up, wiping his beard and reaching between his own legs to gently stroke himself. He kissed his way back up your body and braced on one hand as he pressed his cock to your entrance, pushing inside you. Your body opened to his eagerly, taking him in to the hilt. He moved slowly at first as he kissed you over and over, making a loose fist in your hair, but when you wrapped your legs around his and thrust your hips up to meet him, he began to speed up.

His lips never left your skin and neither did his hands. It was as if he couldn’t touch you enough, couldn’t get enough of how your skin tasted, and gripped you as if you’d evaporate if he let go. There was a strange, anxious tension in his body that you could feel in his muscles as he slammed into you over and over.

You were getting closer to the peak of your pleasure, you could tell he was, too, because he buried his head in the crook of your neck and clung to you as if he were drowning. His movements were precise and rigorous. His grunting grew louder and faster, joining with your moans and gasps. You gripped his back and dug your nails into his skin, whimpering “yes! yes!” over and over.

He suddenly popped up on his hands, thrusting frenetically before giving a shout and going completely rigid, his forehead pressed against yours. You cried out right afterward, grinding your clit against his body and riding out your orgasm as he released inside you.

The two of you were locked in place, gasping for air. He finally collapsed sideways, sliding wetly out of you, and drew in deep breaths. When the two of you had cooled down and caught your breath, he pulled you into his body, your back to his front, and locked his arms around you.

“Pet?” He said softly.

“Hmm?”

“In case I hadn’t made it clear, I do love you,” He said.

You laughed. “You couldn’t have done much more to make it plain short of shouting it out the window.”

“Do you want me to? Because I will!” He made to release you and reach up to open the window, and you grabbed him back, giggling.

“You silly thing!” You told him, rolling over to look at his face. “In case you were wondering, I love you, too.”

“Oh, that’s good,” He said with a smile, stroking your hair. “Was a little worried.”

“Well, don’t be.” You went in for a soft kiss, and then another, and another. “I’ll stay. Wherever you go, I’ll be with you. Because I want to be.”

He cuddled you in and the two of you slept.

A short few hours travel brought you to a meadow with a small pond. The field was full of flowers of all sizes and colors.

“I know this place!” You said as Alexei helped you down off of the driver’s box. “This is from the painting!”

“Very perceptive, my love,” He said, grinning. “I’ve owned this little stretch of land for a while. I think I finally have enough money to build our home. We might be sleeping in the vardo for awhile until it’s finished, though.”

“I don’t mind,” You said, turning and wrapping your arms around his shoulders. “I love it here. I wouldn’t even care if we slept in a tent as long as we could live here.”

He chuckled and kissed your temple. “I think we can do better than that, Pet,” He said. “Welcome home.”

Since my work is no longer searchable, please do me a favor and reblog this story if you enjoyed it. Help me reach a wider audience! To help me continue creating, please consider becoming a Patron or donating directly to my PayPal!

Thanks for reading!

My Masterlist

The Exophilia Creator’s Masterlist

[theshelbyclan]

Angel

Summary: You cross paths with famous Thomas Shelby after killing someone he wanted dead, and you can’t help but recognise so much of yourself in this man

(Gif by @nofckingfighting​) A/N: The ever-lovely @psych0crybaby​ requested: good evening my dear. i saw that your request are open again. Could i ask for some Tommy with a total badass reader? Maybe where she saves their asses and no one knows where she is( and she just walks away) and then they see her again and ada explains to them that she mostly kills rapists and guys who harass woman because someone did the same to her when she was in the war? if you are comfortable with, if not have a good evening or day 🌺 I remember the first time I read this request and immediately being drawn to it. I did however want to do it right, you know? Like I really wanted to think about it, so I have. This comes with a warning for anyone familiar with PTSD, and some sexual abuse and assault is mentioned: this may be triggering. Sorry that it took a while to get this out, but I hope you like the result! Words: 4370 *** Breathe in. Look. See. Focus. Remember. Breath out. Throw. The first knife whooshed passed your face and hit the wall opposite you. The second followed quickly, almost magnetically. The third came after a small pause, the silence in which people feel a false sense of safety, and hit the target right in its middle. 

“You’re too pretty to be out here in the mud.” “Again,” you told yourself, “there’s four of them”. Everything comes in four, good or bad. So you moved suddenly, ducked and threw three more knives, previously hidden in your sleeves.

“You know you want it.” Like a cat you jumped up onto a roof and mid-air threw three more, taken from your pockets. But the hardest was yet to come. The last man was always hidden, always late, like that last knife. He too swished and betrayed. So from your boots, you took another knife, jumped down suddenly and planted it in the back of the invisible assailant. “Good girl…” The job was done. Now for the real work. “What happened to you?” And you told yourself, “I’m ready.” ***

“What is your concern, Tommy?” “The one minute. The soldier’s minute. In battle it’s all you get.” Thomas Shelby lived his life looking over his shoulder, but when he turned, there was nothing there. You see it happening, everything at once and there’s no avoiding it. It’s always there, right behind you. Like running through a house with the devil hot on your heels, finally finding the way out, but when you step into the garden, it starts all over again: you’re back at your starting point. You see, your body may be outside in the sunlight, but your mind is back at the house. That’s what it felt like, every day. “We live somewhere between life and death.” This is what existing is: always living somewhere between life and death, between sleep and awake. And the nightmares, they bled into the days, taking over slowly. “Is it another war you’re looking for, Tommy?” There was supposed to be one war, to end all wars. But instead, kids were sent out to die in the mud, and for what? All that blood, smoke, tears, sweat and carnage. Men blowing the whistles, boys praying and crying. Was he looking for another war? That would imply the first one had ended. “I’ll remember everything and forget nothing. I’m thinking ahead, thinking of every possibility, remembering everything that is happening…” As if he could forget. The smallest things could trigger his memories, taking him right back. When John was little, he used to be scared of a monster. Ada had told him that: that there was a witch living in the walls that you could only see in the mirrors. John didn’t sleep for weeks after her little story. And now, the monster turned out to be real, except no one believed in it anymore. Still, it was everywhere and you had to be constantly on your guard. Because it’s not just in the walls and mirrors; it’s always right behind you, creeping, slithering, crawling it’s way up your spine… And so he became a machine, no longer a human being, fuelled by whiskey and cigarettes only, always plotting. “Thomas Shelby against the whole bloody world, right?” And so he wrote, “My name is Thomas Shelby and today, I’m going to kill a man.” *** There had been five of you at home. And home was in Small Heath, though you moved house all the time. When the poverty got bad, the family was split up and you and mother went into a boarding house for women, while father and the oldest brothers went into a boarding house for men. You were alright with this, because father was a bad man, but you feared for your brothers. Mother was the sweetest woman to ever live, always making sure you ate before she did. You never noticed her withering away before it was too late. At twelve, you started working. Walking the docks and shipyards was dangerous, so your brothers tried their best to prepare you. They weren’t like the other men in Small Heath. “Take this,” one brother told you on the morning of your first shift, “Hide it, in those boots.” You’d gotten charity boots, the first one in the family! But walking in them still felt uneasy, and now he expected you to slide in a small knife as well? “When someone comes,” he continued, urging you with his fiery eyes, “you stick ‘m. Don’t wait, don’t hesitate and don’t ask any questions. When he comes, you stick ‘m and you keep on sticking ‘m!” This was the first lesson you’d been taught. Four brothers all taught their little sister and each had but one objective: keeping you safe. One gave you the knife, the other taught you how to fight and the third took the beatings your drunk father had intended for you. The fourth hadn’t any strength or knowledge to share, so he kept close. Wherever you went, he followed in the shadows, and it was like having your own guardian angel, made up of filth and smoke. When the war came, they all enlisted. Of course they did: they were good, strong and brave men. You saw them off, one by one, and after waving goodbye to your guardian angel, something inside you snapped. Inspired by their love and courage, you became a nurse and took up a post at the front. You became a guardian angel yourself. *** Tommy was looking for a war. After France, they’d taken over the Shelby enterprise again and he had ambitions of expansion. Still, there were those in Small Heath who’d forgotten about the Shelby’s and he had to re-establish their reputation. “It’s happened again, Tommy,” John said sombrely, during a family meeting. Tommy sighed and dipped his head forwards, “Will he live?” “Yeah,” his brother replied, “but what are we going to do about this?” Polly, the voice of reason, said, “You need to make an example of him, Thomas. Show him who’s in charge. We can’t have a few Irish rebels killing and beating up our runner-boys. It’s bad for business.” Tommy nodded slowly and was formulating a plan as they spoke, “He drinks at the Horse’s Head. That’s where we’ll get him.” “Are you mad?” Arthur questioned, “On any given night there’s at least fifty Irish in there. It’s like a bloody army!” “We’re not scared of some fucking Irish,” John spat. “We’re not,” Tommy looked at his aunt with whom he shared his strategic skills, “but we need to be smart about this.” “Smoke him out,” Polly added, knowing her nephew’s mind so well. “We need an incentive.” Everything was all planned out. Tommy had an explosion, a staged fight and the rum in place. The men would scatter, the police would be elsewhere and their target would run. As the pub would be set on fire, he would literally be smoked out. That’s where they would be. The plan was good, well thought out and each eventually had been dealt with.

When the night came, the first part worked like a well-oiled machine. A small explosion in the shipyards, John’s, had drawn the police away. It would take them a while too, seeing as the Communists held their meetings there. Danny Whizz-bang would be inside the pub, looking both menacingly and vulnerable enough to not attract attention among the rebels. He was doing good tonight; he’d be able to light the fire. Tommy, Arthur and a few other blinders were waiting in the alleyways. Smoke started emerging from the pub and Tommy’s head shot up at the shouts of men. As he was getting ready mentally, he thought: some day, I won’t be the one doing this work. As men started fighting and chaos ensued, he followed one insignificant figure with his eyes. This man ran, frantically, into the protection of one of the dark alleys. Tommy followed and shouted his name. The man turned and his face fell as he recognised the Shelby. He in turn grabbed his gun and pointed it at him, saying, “Don’t fuck with the Peaky Blinders.” But as Tommy was about to pull the trigger, the man fell forwards. The irritation of an eventuality not anticipated shot through Tommy and as he walked forwards, he saw a small knife sticking out of the Irish’ neck. He died on the spot. His first thought was if he could still pass this off as a killing by the Peaky Blinders, because Polly had been right: they needed to make a statement. Of course he could. His second thought lasted a lot longer and actually drove him to action: who’d done this? The angle of the knife made him look up, towards the roofs. No one was there, but Tommy still ran. As a kid, he used to climb roofs. As an adult, he dug tunnels. It’s funny how both came back to him now. Fearing whomever it was he couldn’t see, he chased the murderer. Once up, he could easily recognise the signs: someone had been on the roofs. There were bits of dust where bricks had been falling, flecks of ash where someone had been smoking and the smell of soap where someone had been waiting. Still, the killer was long gone. *** You weren’t sleeping, but sort of dreaming with one eye open. You did that a lot. Nightmares kept you vigilant, even at night. The boarding house you were living at was positively Dickensian, but you didn’t mind. You came from nothing and had little trouble going back to it. Besides, there was no money coming in at the moment, so you didn’t have the funds for any proper room.

In the dark, you thought of the men on your list. One of the best things about the boarding house was its anonymity. People who lived here were the poorest of the poorest, only surpassed by those on the streets and the working houses. No one asked any questions, no one looked at each other and shame drove people into hiding. The large room was separated into small spaces by a few curtains only, but still, there was some sense of privacy. In the darkness, you could think. The worst thing about the boarding house was the sound. It wasn’t the crying babies, children whining for food or people fighting each other, but the sound of pain. Some women wailed in their sleep and it shook you to your core every time. Your mother had sounded like that. You had too, you knew it. Early in the morning, you left. “Where are you off to, eh?” the old lady who slept next to you asked. In some ways, she was the pauper’s queen and she got away with prying. “Work,” you replied shortly. The old woman laughed a hoarse laugh, “You’re not fooling no one, dearie…” As soon as you walked onto the streets, a calmness came over you. Poverty was familiar, but it frightened you too. It was like a hand around your throat, always squeezing just a little but more. Inside, especially, it was like drowning. In Small Heath, some women had started their first shifts at the factories already and men were shovelling coal into the big machines. Sparks flew and fizzled out in your hair. Soot clung to your already filthy clothing. In other words, nothing about you looked out of the ordinary. The rest of the day was filled with you practising two skills: observing and vanishing. You listened in on conversations everywhere, while timidly looking away when anyone did notice you. Men boasted of their achievements and women complained everywhere. But you listened for any signs of cruelty and found it easily. See, in a city forgotten by civilisation, no one notices cruelty anymore. It’s part of everyday life. You, however, had decided to change that. This was your revenge, or atonement, whichever way you looked at it. One man in particular stood out to you. His eyes were cold and his shoulders broad, and when his wife came to him during his break, he slapped her without warning. Sometimes menace leaves a certain aura and you could sense it in him. When a filthy child came from the factory as well, also on a short break, you motioned the child to come over. “Hey, love,” you said softly. The child didn’t trust you, but his sunken eyes still pleaded, “What?” “Here,” you offered him a bun you’d just stolen, “I need your help.” He hadn’t eaten in days, that much was clear, and with his mouth full of crumbs, he said, “Wiff whaff?” “I’m new here in Birmingham. Where can I get a job?” He pointed, “Ask the foreman.” You smiled gently, “Thanks, love.” “Where’d you get the bun?” he inquired, less shy with each bite. “My husband bought it for me.” “You not hungry?” This child was sweet, so he’d know, “No, you have it. We got more at home.” “Okay,” and he continued absolutely devouring the pastry.   Just before he walked off again, you asked him, off-handedly, “That man, over there?” you pointed at the man with stony eyes, “You know him?” The boy fell still, “Yeah. He works here.” “What’s his name?” “Don’t know,” he whispered, “But mum told us to stay away.” “Why?” The kid shrugged, “He’s a bad man I suppose.” “Like those Shelby’s,” you tried, knowing the kid would know them like everyone around here did. It worked. “Nah,” he laughed, “the Shelby’s would never touch a woman!” “Does he?” you asked, eyes narrowing. “Mum says so. Mum says women are scared of him, because he hurts them. All of them.” You nodded slowly, “Why don’t the Peaky Blinders take care of him?” He shrugged again, “Miss? Thanks for the bun, but I really need to get back. I need my job.” “I know,” you urged him, “Go.” In France, you helped the sick and dying. This is what you had come for and you’d given up everything to do it. With the telegram of each brother found dead, you became more focussed on the work. It was like you turned into a machine, running only on adrenaline. Sometimes you would work shifts of 48 hours, simply because the other nurse had collapsed, or because the bodies wouldn’t stop coming in. Fear became second nature and fatigue had to be ignored. But being tired also made vulnerable: you learned this when one of the superior officers followed you into the halls of the makeshift hospital. Remaining on your feet after working for so long was easy, as long as you kept on moving. But when he grabbed you and you paused, your knees started buckling. Maybe it’d been the fear, maybe it was his rank and maybe it was purely that fucking bloody war, but there was no fight left in you in that moment. He had his way with you and you just… froze. Shame and guilt drove you back to England and back into the shadows you retreated. And then, shame and guilt turned into anger and the guardian angel became an avenging angel. You didn’t have to wait long. After his work was done, you followed the man with the cold eyes, watching his every move. All your fears and the kid’s warnings were confirmed in a dark corner of a filthy street. The woman never stood a chance. And so you vowed: you would end him. *** “What’s up with you?” Ada asked pointedly. Tommy’s head shot up and he stared at his sister with vacant eyes. “Thomas Shelby, the man who never eats. A rare biological mystery, he is,” Ada commented sarcastically. He grabbed a fork and picked up a potato, “I eat.” “Hardly,” Polly commented. “I have work to do, so if you ladies don’t mind…” But Ada wasn’t finished, “You’ve been lost in thought all day. Mind sharing it with us?” “No really.”

“Because we’re just women or…”

“Ada!” Tommy sighed, “Something… happened. Something unexpected and I can’t figure out how.”

“And this bothers you.”

There was something deeply infuriating about having a sister who was reading the newspaper, right next to you, but never made eye contact, and still she was absolutely right about everything. So Tommy threw his head back and admitted defeat, “Someone killed a man.”

“It’s Small Heath.”

“Someone I wanted dead, but he got there before me.”

Polly sat back down and leaned forwards, “The Irish? I though we did that.”

“Yes, that is what I had people believe.”

Ada suddenly looked up, “How?”

“I failed to take it into my calculations…”

“No. How was the Irish killed?”

Tommy blinked a few times, “A knife. Thrown from the roof.”

His sister smiled faintly, didn’t say a word and then went back to her newspaper.

“Ada…” Tommy growled, “If you know something, tell me.”

“Why? I thought you boys were taking care of business now.”

He looked at his aunt for support, almost desperate, but saw from her face that he could hope for little sympathy there.

“Fine, what do you want,” he demanded.

“Respect,” Ada said coldly.

“You have my respect.”

“Good,” she slowly flipped the page, “Now tell me you need me.”

Polly’s smirk grew into a grin and Tommy cursed all women, right there and then.

So he cleared his throat, “Ada, please, tell me.”

“It’s almost like it’s physically painful for him, isn’t it?” Polly said conversationally to Ada.

“Fucking hell…” Tommy groaned, “Ada, I fucking need your help. Please just tell me what you know!”

“Fine,” she abruptly closed the newspaper, “You need to go to that pub in Digbeth.”

“The one by the water?” Tommy frowned.

“That’s the one. Next to that boarding house that should’ve been closed years ago. That’s where you’ll find your killer.”

Immediately, he stood up. Because even though he thought he’d been subtle about it, he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about the incident for days now. The killer, whoever he was, had taken over his thoughts entirely. It was dark outside already, but still early enough for the pubs to be open. He’d go there at once.

“Tell her I said ‘hi’,” Ada called after him as he left.

And Tommy retraced his steps slowly, “‘Her’?”

“Her.”

He paused for a second, but when nothing else came, “You know they don’t allow women in pubs.”

“They do her,” Ada chuckled.

“Ada, stop playing these fucking games!” he shouted, as he threw down his cap in anger.

She, however, didn’t even blink and repeated, “Her. It’s a woman who killed your Irishman. All the women here know her; she takes care of a certain kind of man for us. She doesn’t want it known and she rids the world of bastards, so we leave her be. It all works out.”

Tommy turned to Polly, “Did you know of this?”

“I’ve heard of her, yes.”

“Then why the fuck has no one told me before?”

Polly sent a stern gaze at her nephew from over her teacup, “I thought you weren’t interested in women’s business.”

***

When you walked into the pub, a small nod to the man behind the bar was all that was needed. Dressing like a man had many advantages and this was definitely one of them. Still, he knew you were a woman, but after helping him out one night, you were allowed in. So you sat in the corner and became one with the furniture, drinking your whiskey in silence.

And then it happened. One man, who had no business being here, walked in. Thomas Shelby of the Peaky Blinders was considered royalty in Small Heath, so why would he be here, in this grimy little cellar pub?

The thought that he came looking for you never even crossed you mind at first. He leaned over the bar and ordered whiskey, asking a few more questions you couldn’t hear. You tried to listen more closely, but the more you did so, the more inaudible his words seemed to become.

Suddenly, he turned and looked you right in the eyes. Without a second thought, you jumped up, kicked the table towards him and made your way to the door.

“Fuck,” you heard him ground out, but still he was quick. In a flash, he had the door barricaded and a gun pointed at your head.

“Out!” he commanded everyone but you.

You felt for the reassuring blades under your clothes and relaxed a little.

“Now, Miss…” he started after everyone had left.

But you didn’t plan on being interrogated, so the first knife whooshed passed his head: a warning.

Thomas Shelby froze. Then it was like an animal awoke in him and he lunged forwards, tackling you down with him. While you were struggling, you tried to plant a second knife into his leg, but he rolled away just in time. With big eyes he stared at the weapon now stuck in the floor.

And so you were standing opposite each other, weapons of choice pointed at each other’s heads.

“Alright,” he said after a while, holding up his hands in a pacifying manner, “There’s no need to fight.”

“Spoken by a man who knows he will lose,” you replied, without missing a beat.

“You want a fight?” Tommy said quickly, “Then fight me like a man. No gun, no fucking knives. If my sister is right about you, you’ll fight me like a man.”

With that you scoffed and threw away the knives, right next to his head, into the door. It gave you such pleasure to see him shudder with each one, but your face betrayed nothing.

“Now what?” you asked.

“You tell me.”

“Fine,” you sighed and punched him in the face, hard.

As his head shot back, you noticed a flicker of surprise in his features, but he quickly recovered and his face turned emotionless yet again.

Your triumph didn’t last long. If anything, you arrogance had distracted you, so the three blows that followed from his fists came out of nowhere. One to the nose, one to the chin and the last one square in the jaw. Thank God you weren’t vain.

You took a breath in, made yourself focus and quickly jabbed him two times, before hitting him right in the eye with a mean left hook.

“Jesus Christ…” he muttered, “Who the fuck taught you how to fight like that?”

“My brothers,” you replied, before you could stop yourself.

Tommy held up his hands and his two punches to your gut literally took your breath away. Meanwhile, he said, “Why aren’t they here to defend you now, eh?”

“Do I look like I need to be fucking defended?” With a sudden kick you were certain you cracked at least on of his ribs.

Wheezing, he leaned over, but managed to grab your leg in the process and flipped you over onto the ground, “Brothers still do.”

“They’re dead,” you said from the floor, “the Somme,” and with one quick motion, you’d tackled him with your legs, “What about you?”

“The Somme too. Verdun…”

Before he could recover, you climbed on top of him and started pounding his pretty face with your fists. Unfortunately, he quickly bucked you off and hit you with a nasty uppercut, which made you wonder about your teeth.

You crawled back a little and felt with a hand at your mouth: blood. Tommy leaned against the wall and was still panting, lightly tracing a hand over his ribs. The chaos subdued and you both rested.

“Are we done?” he growled.

You stared at him with a look that told him you could go on for hours like this, “What is it that you want?”

“I just want to talk.”

Quickly, you started thinking out your options. Clearly, he knew who you were and evidently, you’d killed the wrong person this time. Really, it was bound to happen at some point.

“Who was it?” you asked, “the one you didn’t want dead.”

“I did want him dead,” he said as he slowly lifted his cigarette case from his pocket.

“Then what’s the problem?”

He smiled a little and the gesture was so unexpected that the feeling it gave you caught you completely off-guard, “I wanted to be the one to kill him.”

You furrowed your brows, thought back and suddenly nodded slowly, “The Irishman.”

He pointed at you with his cigarette in hand, “That’s the one.”

In the silence that followed, you watched this man, this broken boy. His eyes started glazing over and you knew he drifted off to placed in the distant past. As he smoked slowly, you recognised the signs of a flashback so well and you suddenly became more curious than ever about this man.

He saw the same thing in you evidently, because out of the blue he said, “You and me. I think we understand each other.”

“Do we?” you said in a voice that demanded distance.

He nodded a little, “We kill.”

You laughed a cold laugh, “Are you insane like me?”

“Maybe I am…”

“Or just in pain like me?” you added.

He didn’t speak for a long time, like he was thinking what to say next, but then, suddenly, he broke the pregnant silence. “Who hurt you?” he asked, in a voice so low it was almost inaudible.

You leaned forwards and locked eyes with him, fire burning inside them, “Everyone.”

Tommy sat back and offered you a cigarette, but soon realised you wouldn’t take it from his hands without expecting abuse from them. So he threw it your way and you grabbed it gratefully. When you lit it, the two of you leaned against the wall in the same manner, postures similar.

“It’s time,” he announced, looking up at the ceiling.

You cocked one eyebrow, “Is it?”

“The minute is almost up.”

“And how does it end?”

He sighed, “With names. You’ve beaten me. I’m no longer Mr. Thomas Shelby. It’s Tommy now.”

And you smiled at him softly and replied with your own vulnerability, “Y/N.”

***

Masterlist

[thisisawonderfulusername]

feelings

klaus hargreeves x reader

requested: anon

prompts: 165- “this might hurt” 291- “is that blood?” 300- “i can take care of myself” and 302- “i can’t breathe”

summary: when trying to save vanya and the world, you get a bit hurt

warnings: cursing, tooth rotting fluff babyyyyy

word count: 2k

a/n: holy shit i uploaded something! anyways, the requestor gave me an option between five and klaus and i had to do klaus because i haven’t written anything for him yet and i want to so baaaad so thank you anon

also @generouswombyrat , yours is next i promise lol

it’s loud, and the flashing lights would have made you pass out if you hadn’t made it to the cover of the counter to protect yourselves while you thought of a plan.

“vanya’s in the room at the end of the hall.” diego has to raise his voice to be heard over what the woman was causing.

allison has her hands on the sides of her head, you assume to block out some of the noise that is threatening to rip your hearing away from you. “how do you propose we get to her?”

“you can count me out.” klaus says from beside you, defeated and with a flask held in his hand. when the two siblings look at him in disbelief, he tries to defend himself, “what? you guys should save her. you’re great at all the hero shit.”

after allison reaches over to slap him, he leans against your shoulder while you roll your eyes. “listen, listen, vanya would understand ‘cause she has realistic expectations of what i am. and what i am, is sexy trash!”

“you’re a big pussy, that’s what you are,” diego tells him in annoyance.

“guys, this is not the time,” you speak over their small argument.

“why, because i don’t want to die? who does?” klaus questions you, waving his hand around in front of you, “and martyrs aren’t around to enjoy the victory party, ‘cause they’re dead!” he ends his sentence with a shout and you roll your eyes.

diego crawls over to where klaus sits, grabbing onto his shirt, “you are going out there,” the other grabs at his arm to push him away, complaining, “or i’m gonna beat you!”

“that’s my cue.” your head whips away from the argument and to allison as she moves from behind your only cover. the others stop fighting and the three of you shout at her to stop, but she’s already began to fight against the wave of energy flowing from the room vanya was being held in.

after hearing her yell out for the woman, there’s a thump on the other side of your cover, and you suck in a breath.

“alright, i’m going.” diego tells the two of you after peaking out from behind the wall.

“no, wait, wait, wait, wait,” klaus grabs onto his arm to stop him from going.

the other looks at him in annoyance, “what?”

“if you don’t make it back, there’s one thing that i need to tell you.” diego was beginning to wave him off, since you didn’t exactly have time for a heart to heart. “you look like antonio banderas with the long hair.”

you slap a hand to your forehead as diego looked at him as if he told him the most sincere thing. “thanks, man.”

“my god,” you groan, crawling over klaus in order to peak around and watch as the man digs his knives into the floor. as he begins to slow, you bite your lip, “keep going!” you shout, “you can do it!”

“i’m not gonna make it!” he shouts back to you, and you shake your head as you look back to klaus, who was still curling in on himself. “you guys have to do it!”

he pulls on a tie holding some sort of rope coiled, and it comes flying towards you. a second later, you feel another thump against the wood.

you take a deep, shaky breath. you have to do this. “okay, klaus.” you glance over at him as you reach up towards the rope, “if i die, just know...” you think for a moment as you bite into your lip, wondering if it’s the best idea to pour your feelings out at a moment like this.

“no,” you sigh, “i’ll make it.”

“wait!” klaus yells as he grabs onto you, “what do i need to know?”

you shake your head, “it’s not important.” you make sure your grip is tight, enough for you to make it. “i’ll see you on the other side!”

“don’t die please!”

when you pull yourself from behind your protection, the force of the wave vanya was sending was much stronger than you expected it to be. your eyes were watering as you tried to look forward, into the flashing lights, but they were already giving you a headache.

you hear klaus shouting at you, but you can’t hear him over the energy. just as you were getting closer to the door, your strength was weakening, but you continued moving one hand at a time to pull yourself forward.

when you pull your eyes away for one second to look away from the lights, your hand misses the rope, and your eyes widen as you lose your grip and go flying back, straight into the wall.

-

your head feels like it’s spinning when you wake up, the lack of the whooshing energy making your ears ring. it feels like the air has been knocked out of you, and it probably was. “oh god, i can’t breathe.”

“are you okay?” the one who caused all of this runs to the four of you.

“vanya,” allison breathes out from beside you.

you groan as you push yourself up, ignoring the dizziness you felt. “physically or emotionally?” klaus questions as he holds himself up on his elbows.

diego pushes himself onto his knees, looking up to her with a smile. “you’re alive.”

“did we save the world or what?” klaus questions as he finally sits up.

you run your fingers through your hair, “i think so. the building’s still here.”

the ticking of diego’s watch catches your attention as you look to it. “kennedy’s a few minutes away.” he points out, quickly getting to his feet, “i can still save him.”

allison calls to him as he begins his way down the hall, following after him in an attempt to stop him.

“is that blood?” you look to klaus as he questions you, and it’s only then that you notice the metallic taste in your mouth.

reaching up to touch your lip, you flinch when you realize it had somehow split open. you cringe at the slight sting the contact brought. “nah, it’s ketchup.” you chuckle as you wipe the blood from your lip.

he rolls his eyes. “we need to patch it up. i’m sure there’s some sort of medical kit stashed away around here.”

“no need,” you wave your hand in the air, “i can take care of myself. we have some more important things to worry about.”

shaking his head, he pushes himself up off the ground before holding his hand out to you. “we already saved the world. everyone else can deal with diego.”

sighing, you take his hand and he helps you up off the ground.

after searching all nearby rooms, you eventually find a med kit. being in an office, it was easiest to hop up onto the desk to let klaus take care of the wound.

once he had opened the kit and grabbed everything he needed, he stepped in front of you. “that was an interesting experience.” he comments about the whole ordeal you just went through.

“that’s our lives.” you respond with a sigh.

nodding, he grabs a paper towel that had been soaked in water. you both decided it was the best way to clean it, at least a little bit.

“this might hurt.” he tells you softly, carefully grabbing your chin to press the paper to your lip. he’s right. it felt like it was burning from the slightly rough texture, but you were able to ignore it. you had gone through worse, after all.

after a second of dabbing at the cut, he pulls the towel away with a smile. “there we go. all clean.” he throws the towel to the side and grabs one of the surgical tape strips, carefully using it to close the wound. “hopefully that works.” he claps his hands together.

you smile, quickly stopping when you feel the tape and your cut trying to pull open. “thanks.” you hum, before you notice the blood that had poured from his nose.

without saying a word, you grab the wet towel. after folding it over to avoid the part covered with your blood, you grab his chin to pull him towards you. “what are you doing?” he questions.

“blood.” you tell him simply, wiping away at the already drying liquid. your eyebrows furrow as you tilt his chin, “how did you get some on your neck?”

he simply shrugs as you clean it up.

shaking your head, you look him over to make sure there wasn’t anymore blood on him. you still hold his chin as he looks at you, a small grin on his face. “checking me out?”

“for blood, yes.” you chuckle, releasing him and tossing the towel into a nearby trash can.

he’s still looking at you, and you let your shoulders fall slightly to release some of the tension in them, “why are you staring at me like that?”

“i’m glad you didn’t die.” he tells you.

you let out a soft laugh, “well, i’m glad you didn’t die either.”

he grins, glancing to the side for a second, “what were you going to tell me?” he asks.

“hm?” your eyebrows raise a bit.

“before you tried to make it to vanya,” he expands on his question, “you said you wanted me to know something.”

you knew exactly what he was talking about, but you thought about just acting clueless. apparently you didn’t think enough before sacrificing yourself earlier.

sitting up slightly, you shrug, “i... i don’t know. it doesn’t matter.”

“what are you talking about? of course it matters.” he hops up on the desk to sit next to you, his legs swinging slightly. “just spit it out. you know it will feel better.”

looking to him, your shoulders slump slightly. “it’s hard to say.” you sigh, running your hand down your face, and beginning to feel that your heart is beating just a little bit faster than before. “okay, i’m just gonna say it. i like you. i might even be in love with you, i-”

you’re not able to finish your rambling about your feelings, since the moment he had heard you admit to them he had leaned forward and pressed his lips to yours.

your heart felt like it was soaring as your eyes closed, and you could feel the slight sting in your lip but it didn’t matter because shit, klaus was kissing you.

you’re not sure how long it lasted, but it didn’t feel long enough once he pulled away. it took a moment for your eyes to open again, as you were relishing the moment. but a smile is on both of your faces when you look at him, and you know then that you are definitely in love with him.

taglists

main: @horrorklaus @megasimpleplan4ever  

tua: @rasberrymay @noodlextrash @atomicpillar @malfovs  @andreasworlsboring101​  

klaus: none yet

it was also requested that i tag @theumbrellaamattemy​

[theyreonlynoodlesmike]

It’s Just a Movie: Part 25 (Poly!Lost Boys x Fem!Reader)

<- Previous Chapter Next Chapter ->

Warnings: slight angst, violence

Word Count: 3613

School has started for me!! I was able to get the past couple of chapters out despite the first days, but with a work/school combo I’m gonna have zero time to write!! Basically, the next (and final chapters) are gonna be slower to get uploaded, but they’ll get posted soon!!!

You couldn't believe this was happening. Never in your life did you think you'd be in this situation in the first place, but you never thought that you'd be leading the Frogs and the Emerson's down into the cave either. You had made an agreement before you'd even parked Paul's bike. You weren't there to fight, you were there to talk. The Frogs, and Michael, wouldn't believe what you said until they heard it from the boys themselves. No matter how much you tried to convince them. This definitely wasn't part of the plan, but it was better than the ones the Frogs wanted to go with. You saw them clamor out of the car, and then Edgar grabbed Alan. He said,

"Weapons check." And then he was twirling his brother around to grab his pack and check him. You walked over, and grabbed Edgar, and Alan, by the back of his pack, saying,

"Woah, you are not going down there with those stakes." You knew that, peace talk or not, the boys would freak the second they saw the stakes. Especially Marko. The last thing you needed was the boys seeing that the first second they woke up. It'd be a bloodbath, and it'd be hard to defend the boys' case after that. It was Edgar that said,

"Then, we're not going down there at all." And Alan was quick to second him,

"For all we know, this could be an ambush. We are not going into enemy territory unarmed." And you fought the urge to roll your eyes from all the military talk. You sighed, defeated, and looked over when you heard Michael say,

"I don't want you going down there." Sam had already helped him out of the car, and a piece of you softened when you heard Sam reply,

"Well, I'm going." You knew, horror movie or not, their relationship was the backbone of the movie. None of this would be happened if they didn't care about eachother as much as they did, and you didn't interrupt as Michael said,

"Look, this isn't a comic book, Sam. These guys are brutal killers." And you felt the urge to almost agree with him. They were, but, as far as they knew, they wouldn't be if they killed Max. Sam quickly replied,

"So are the Frog brothers." And you looked at the two little brunettes. You watched as Edgar said,

"Check me." And Alan immediately went for the stakes. You scratched the back of your neck. As goofy as they seemed, you knew, unfortunately, that was true. But, you also knew that you weren't going to let it happen. Not this time.

"Look, who would you rather go down there with? Them or me?" To you, it was an easy choice. It seemed like this was the only thing you and Michael could agree on.

"If something happens down there, I'm not gonna have the strength to protect you." And you swallowed. You knew what line was coming, and you had to stop yourself from saying something about it.

"Well, this time I'm gonna protect you, bud. Even though you're a vampire, you're still my brother." You turned away, trying not to let the words affect you. Sam was a sweet kid, and, while you loved your boys, you weren't going to let them do anything to him. And, if you could help it, the Frogs. You looked back and snatched the knife from Edgar's hands.

"Wave this around, and I'm not gonna be able to stop the boys from making assumptions. Keep your stuff in your pack, and stay behind me. Got it?" You told them, and the brothers looked between eachother. They didn't seem pleased to be taking orders from you, and you sighed again as you decided to pocket the blade instead of giving it back to the boy. Really, they shouldn't even have this many knives anyways. You thought. You were going to need to come up with a good explanation for this, or else the Frogs weren't going to be the only ones getting chewed out. You let Edgar turn to Michael and say,

"Listen, just so you know, if you try to turn on us," He said, directly pointing at you. "Or vamp out in any way, then I'll stake you without even thinking twice about it." He said, his finger directed towards Michael this time. He added, "Both of you." And you frowned at the boy. You noted the change in dialogue, but you supposed it was a good sign. You were changing things, changing the movie. Hopefully that meant you'd changed enough to guarantee the boys' safety. But you knew that if he went around making threats like that, the boys were going to give him something to worry about. It was Sam that said,

"Chill out, Edgar." And you agreed. Everyone was going to need to chill, or else this was going to go sideways fast. 

"Yeah. C'mon." Edgar said. As you followed the Frogs down the steps, you heard Michael say,

"Where'd you say you met these guys?" And you tried to keep up with the brothers in front of you. The Frogs were supposed to lead you down into the cave, but you quickly slipped past them. You hopped down the stairs with ease, having months of practice navigating the creaking, falling apart stairway. When you went to the cave, you walked in it as one would walk in their own house. 

"Holy shit!" Edgar exclaimed, and you didn't comment. That was pretty much everyone's reaction, even yours.

"Vampire hotel." Alan commented, and you rolled your eyes as you walked ahead of them. As soon as the Frogs saw Star, you knew what was coming. You tried to grab them each by the back of their packs, but Edgar was already saying,

"Here's one. C'mon, let's stake her, man!" Michael had already seen the way they'd rushed for her, and he quickly tried his best to protect her in his weakened state.

"Don't you touch her!" He shouted, and the boys slapped away your hands. You let them go as Edgar said,

"C'mon. Vampires have such rotten tempers." And, they were running off. They ran around like two excited kids in a candy store, seeming to forget the object of their mission as soon as they were confronted with their threat. It seemed that getting them off course was going to be harder than you thought, and you quickly put two fingers in your mouth to let out a loud whistle. Like a pair of excited puppies, their heads snapped towards you. You could hear Star murmuring behind you, but you didn't know if it was your whistle or Michael that had awoken her.

"You two! Sit down over there and stay put. Sam," You said, turning towards him. You noticed that Michael was already going for Laddie, aiming to get him out of the cave after Star told him to. While you were here to talk, you didn't imagine the boys would be too upset if the two half's were gone. Well, at least, most of them wouldn't. "Watch them, okay? I'm gonna get the boys-"

"I'm coming with you." Sam quickly said, and you found a small smile developing on your face. He looked so earnest. So willing to protect. You reached out to touch his shoulder, lowering your voice. "I know you want to, Sam, but I need you to keep an eye on the Frogs, okay? If they follow me, I could be in deep shit." You told him, and, in a second, his face seemed to change. He understood what you were trying to suggest, quickly nodding. You had figured out that they apparently thought worse of your boys, way worse than you'd ever intended, but, if it helped, you were going to play into it. Plus, you did need to talk to the boys alone. 

You walked through the halls of the cave, slipping into a hallway different than the ones the boys had taken in the movie. You wandered around for a bit, listening for the sound of footsteps and purposely taking a few wrong turns just so you'd have to double back and would bump into the boys if they'd decided to follow you. You finally went to the cave where the boys slept, and you looked up to see them hanging from the ceiling. The five of you had talked about them sleeping in your room instead, but you'd pointed out that them being on the floor would make them far too easy targets. So, their room really was the best bet when it came to keeping themselves safe. The only suggestion you'd made was that they all gathered away from the ladder. Then, there'd be no way the Frogs could reach them. They seemed to have listened, and Paul had even taken Markos place as the closest to the ladder. Even then, he was still out of arms reach. You sighed, tapping your foot as you tried to think about how you'd get them down. Touching the boys was the only real way to wake them up, as they were all deep sleepers. You guessed vampirism had that as a side-effect. You cringed as you thought of one way you could wake them up, but you didn't hesitate to reach into your bag for the knife you'd swiped from Edgar. You decided on a small cut to the tip of your finger. It took a moment, but, the second the smell of blood hit them, you knew. Paul's eyes were the first to flick open, and he reached for the blonde besides him. As soon as Marko was awake, and they all knew it wasn't him that was bleeding, Paul fell from the railing. He grabbed your finger, bringing it to his mouth as he quickly said,

"What'd you do this for?" He licked the blood trailing down your finger and sucked on the wound for a moment, while the others fell from the railing in a circle around you. You answered with a,

"Well, I figured this would wake you up." And he hummed around the cut. You'd been right. Blood was a sure-fire way to get any of them to wake up. They seemed confused, but relieved. You weren't screaming, yelling, warning them that the Frogs were coming. Marko was bouncing on the balls of his feet, a smile growing on his face. He wasn't laying on the floor with a stake out of his chest. As far as they knew, it had worked. 

"What happened?" David asked, and you nearly had to yank your finger away from Paul when you felt the graze of teeth. He gave you a teasing smile, and you looked at the platinum haired blonde to do the same. A smile you only used when you were trying to get him to consider something. He narrowed his eyes.

"Well-" You started, but Marko grabbed your arm. He stopped you, and his eyes flicked towards the entrance. You took an inhale, and you mentally said, Shit. 

"They followed you." He said, his voice hollow and his eyes wide. You could see a speck of fear in his eyes, replacing the relief,  and you had to grab Paul before he went to do anything stupid, like try to walk into sunlight. They had a look in their eyes that you'd, luckily, never had to see before. Well, at least, in real life. You recognized it from the opening scene, when David had looked ready to kill that surf nazi. And again when he'd tried to grab Sam. And when Paul had tried to kill the Frogs. And when Dwayne has grabbed Sam. Hell, perhaps you'd seen it more than you thought. 

"I went to the Emerson's, and I brought them here-" You started, but that was as far as you got before David snapped,

"You what?" He asked, and you internally cringed at the tone of voice and how the room shook from the loudness of his voice. Yeah, you were in trouble. Rightfully so when you saw the look of betrayal in the shortest boys eyes. They moved for a second, and you already knew what they were thinking. You had betrayed them. Sold them out. You were going to kill them. Before they could do anything rash, you said,

"I told them that you want Max gone. It was the only way to get them to stand down, and they're here to talk." You said, and the boys stared at you in shock. You went silent, refusing to tell them anything else that may dig your grave any deeper. They stared at you, and David looked like he was about to have an aneurysm for a moment. He was pissed. But he was silent, and you could see that he was thinking.

"They're here to...talk?" David asked, disbelief clear in his voice, and you nodded. The boys stood behind him, flanking him. If it had been your first couple of days in their world, you would've been terrified. But you knew your boys, and you knew that they, at least, wouldn't do anything without David's word. "All of them?" David asked, and you nodded. Then, quickly, you corrected yourself.

"Michael is still taking Star and Laddie up to the car, but Sam and the Frogs…" You said, letting yourself trail off. They were silent, obviously not willing to fill up the silence for you. Even when you casted a glance over to Dwayne, who was seeming to try his best not to be effected by the inevitable. "They just wanna hear it from you. I told them what we planned, the whole turning back to a human thing, but Michael wasn't convinced. He thought that you guys had to be lying or have some sort of ulterior motive so- So, I gave them one." You said. The one time you needed to bank on Michael being stupid, he hadn’t been. So, you’d told him something closer to the truth. They did want their father-figure gone, just not for the same reason why. They wanted him gone because they hated him, despised him. The others thought they wanted him gone because he'd turned them, which was true, and because it would turn them back into being human. "They just wanna hear that you won't try to stop them from killing Max." You said, trying to get rid of the silence once more. All of the boys were quiet, and they were exchanging glances. You guessed that they were either waiting for David to decide, or if they were somehow communicating without you. You knew that you were just supposed to correct them and push them in the right direction, but, even then, would that have worked? What would've stopped them from hunting the boys down after they killed their sire? If anything, this was the best course of action, and you forced yourself to believe that. Finally, after a moment, David said,

"Where are they?" You had to bring the Frogs, and Sam, back into the cave simply because of the sunlight pouring inside the main room. You'd found them snooping around the cave, and you had to tell them to put down Dwayne's skateboard. You hated it, leading the boys through the tunnels that you knew so well. Leading them straight to the boys. To where they slept. Your mind replayed the look of betrayal you'd seen so clearly in Markos eyes. It made every step feel like you were trudging through wet concrete. But this was how things had to happen, and this was the only way to save them. Hopefully, it would save them. 

For a moment, you considered the fact that, maybe, despite agreeing not to, you may be leading the boys behind you to their deaths. It made a lump develop in your throat, and you prayed to whatever god you could think of that everything would turn out fine. You took them into the room, where the boys were standing near the far wall of the cave. The room was cramped, but you had long ago gotten used to the smell. Your boys towered over Sam and the Frogs, even if the tallest of the bunch, Dwayne, was leaning against the cave wall with his arms crossed. Paul was standing partially in front of Marko, the two huddled as far away as they could get. David stood away from the wall, the closest to the humans. Almost acting as a block. He glared down at the Frogs, then at Sam. Finally, his eyes shifted to you. "Well?" He asked. He didn't sound happy. He sounded almost antsy. Impatient. As if he wanted this over with. You didn't blame him.

The whole thing seemed to go by in a blur. Threats had been thrown on both sides, and you'd had to toss yourself in the middle of an altercation more than once. Edgar had muttered something about staking you for being a "traitor to your race" when you'd asked if they trusted you, and Paul had nearly exploded. He was practically vibrating as you pushed back on his chest, shouting to get his attention and to get him to calm down. You hadn't even noticed that Dwayne had already grabbed Edgar, and was holding him by his shirt until you heard the young boy start to yell. You'd managed to tear the boy out of his hands and you'd ended up screaming at both parties to knock it off. Finally, it was decided that most of the boys couldn't handle this sort of confrontation. So, the Frogs were put on timeout on one side of the inner cave, with three of your boys on the other. David and Sam stood in the middle, with you besides them to act as neutral ground. Well, as neutral as you could be. 

"So, if we kill Max, you'll go back to being human?" Sam asked, and you heard a murmur from behind him. Your head snapped to the Frogs, fire behind your eyes that got them to zip it for at least a moment. David replied,

"That's what we think." He said, and Sam furrowed his brow. That wasn't what you told them, but, David knew that lying to them completely wouldn't be well received when Max was dead. But, if they didn't know for sure, that was a different story. Plus, the look you gave him after he said it was definitely helping him sell it. From behind him, Edgar said,

"That's not good enough." But, this time, it was a snarling growl that shut them up. It had come from the smallest of the boys. Marko looked completely on edge and ready to snap. You supposed he would be, since Edgar had been the one to kill him. Sam looked over his shoulder, whispering,

"Cool it, Edgar." And you had to hand it to the kid. While he was obviously scared shitless, he seemed to be the most reasonable of the three. And the most gullible. After another moment, he said, "Even if you don't, you swear not to try to kill us? Or stop us from killing Max?" And David almost looked amused. His arms were crossed over his chest, and he glanced at you for a moment. He, now that he'd had a moment to process, seemed to find this situation weirdly hilarious. Or, maybe, it was just Sam.  "Well?" Sam pressed, copying what David has asked in the beginning of their talk. David said,

"We swear. Cross my heart and hope to get staked." He even did the motion of crossing his heart. From behind, you could hear Alan mumbling,

"Oh, you will." And you were this close to letting the boys have free range. You didn't say anything, not when David opened his mouth again to speak,

"But, you have to swear that you won't come after us. Even if we don't get turned back." He said, and an eruption of protests were heard from the Frogs. They were silenced by a single glare from David, who's face shifted into one of a monster. You could tell it scared the boys half to death, to the point where they both seemed to fall back against the wall. He changed his face back before he glanced back at the youngest Emerson. Sam had nearly fallen back, but you'd caught him by the arm. It took him a minute to steady himself and find his voice, and he straightened his blue cardigan sweater right before he said,

"You'll leave us alone? Mike alone?" Sam asked, and you watched the way David's face softened for a moment. It seemed that he had the same effect on him that he had on you. David gave him a nod, and then Sam sighed. He held out his hand, saying, "Deal." And, despite the Frogs protests, David was quick to take it. They shook on it, and then David's eyes lifted to the Frogs. He spoke again, saying,

"So, how are you going to kill him?" And Sam was quick to give up the information that his mother had a date with him that night. Tonight seemed as good as a night as any to get it over with. When Alan sarcastically asked,

"Why, you have any ideas?" David smiled. It was handsome, as handsome as the first smile he'd given you. Though, it seemed to have a chilling effect on the younger boys trapped with them in the cave. David's voice was almost charming as he said,

"We have a few."

[justcourttee]

Could I request when Marinette first meets the Batfam (One as Marinette meeting the Wayne's, one as Marinette meeting the Batfam, one as Ladybug meeting the Wayne's, and one as Ladybug meeting the Batfam)

I’m so so sorry it took so long. I loved this so much and grossly underestimated how long it would take me to do this prompt justice. I decided on a whole bunch of short stories that tied together and several days of editing and rewriting left me with this. 

I hope you enjoy it! @elements1999

The First Time

The first time Marinette met the Wayne’s was at a charity auction that she dragged Adrien too.

With her first year of earnings beyond her imagination, Marinette wanted to donate some to charity and who better than Bruce Wayne. She read all about his many donations and auctions, how he came to the rescue of orphaned kids and hospitals struggling to stay afloat. She might not know much about charity, but she knew this man would put her money to good use.

It didn’t take long for Adrien to wander off, his hopeless romantic self trailing after every beautiful person he saw. He advised her to find her own beautiful person, after all, this world revolved around connections, and she needed more than just Adrien.

She set her eyes on a prominent looking man around her age. His attention seemed fixed on the older men he was entertaining, their conversation dragging, but the more she watched, the more she could recognize his own boredom. If anything else tonight, at least she could save him from succumbing to social suicide.

“Excuse me sir, but I was wondering if I could steal a moment of your time. I had a question about, uh, the stocks of your business.”

His eyebrow cocked as a playful smirk pulled at his lips. He knew that she had no intention of doing such things with one glance. She was impressed. As he excused himself from his company, the man offered his arm which she readily took.

“Now Miss, what questions could I answer for you?”

“Hmm, well, we could start with how do you put up with such dreadful conversations for hours on end? You looked like you were five seconds away from passing out.”

Tim, she soon learned, was the business partner of Bruce Wayne and his adopted son. He mostly dealt with the partnership side of Wayne Enterprise which meant enduring boring old man for hours on end at these types of events. They continued on with small talk as they walked the ballroom, but eventually, Tim had to excuse himself to yet another group of old men.

Marinette shook her head, slightly amused at the sight of him putting on a game face. Maybe she could ask Tim to help her with the partnership side of MDC. Right now, her current co-owner was off making plans for an after-party, not a sponsor.

“This is outrageous! I have my invite right here, what do you mean not invited? Brucie gave me this,” he shoved the piece of paper into the guard's face, “this morning.”

“Sir, a paper that says, Jason, my favorite son, this is an unlimited pass, does not count as an invite. Sorry.”

“You know, something tells me you’re not really sorry.”

Marinette bit her lip trying to hold back her laughter. For the second time in one night, it looks like she would have to be the knight in shining armor stepping in to save the damsel in distress.

“Jason? I told you not to leave your invite on the counter!”

The man widened his eyes at her as she crossed her arms, a fake disappointment monopolizing her face.

“Excuse me sir, but this is my date. He didn’t arrive home on time for work, so I left his invitation on the counter! I didn’t think he would be dumb enough to forget such a small piece of paper.”

“Oh yes, I’m sorry babe, please forgive me?”

The security guard didn’t look convinced, but he sidestepped allowing Jason to enter. Immediately he threw his arm over her shoulders as he dragged them away from the entrance as quickly as possible.

“First off, thanks for getting me in small fry. Second, who are you? The guards aren’t that stupid, they know we’re not together, but for some reason, it only took one look at you and they let me right in. Are you like sleeping with Bruce or something?”

Marinette’s face paled as she tried to stutter out a denial.

“Oh God,” Jason bursted into laughter, accidentally dragging her down with him as they doubled over. “Oh god, I’m sorry. It was too good, your face was too good.”

Marinette landed a punch in the man’s side with a sickening thud, but he didn’t even flinch. Instead, he had the audacity to ruffle her pristine hair while wiping a tear from the corner of his eye.

“Anyways, fess up, who are you really?”

Her time with Jason was much different from Tim’s. She honestly couldn’t believe that they were raised by the same man. Tim was constantly calculating his every sentence, watching her for signs of a slip-up or lie. He was composed the entire time, careful not to insult her as if she was a potential business partner. Jason? Not so much.

They traded insults and jabs at each other before turning their attention to the room insulting anyone who dared to step into their line of view. Marinette would be lying if she said she wasn’t a bit disappointed when he had to leave to find Bruce.

She spent the next few minutes wandering around the room until another damsel caught her eye. To put things lightly, Marinette was a little confused about who she was saving. The smaller man was maybe a couple inches taller than her and while the taller man was looming over him. However, it was the look in the smaller one’s eyes that screamed danger.

“Hello sir, I seem to have wandered off from my group, would you happen to have the time? I wouldn’t want to be late to the auction.”

Whatever argument the two were engaged in instantly came to a standstill as they seized each other up before turning to face her. The taller one flashed her a blinding smile before introducing himself as Dick.

“My son here is Damian and I’m sure he’d be glad to show a beautiful woman like yourself back to the auction site.” He placed a hand on Damian’s head, giving his hair a ruffle for good measure.

“You are not my father Grayson, unhand me at once.”

Marinette covered her mouth slightly trying to hide her giggles. She knew these two. They were the few exceptions to the press rule, always doing interviews as a brotherly team, maintaining the loving family image.

“What is so funny woman?”

Marinette cleared her throat trying to swallow any remaining laughter.

“Oh nothing, it’s just, you all are so different than I imagined, it’s quite refreshing.”

Damian shot her a quizzical look as if he wasn’t sure whether to be complimented or offended.

“Well, if you like little bird so much, we should definitely get you back to the auction! This year, he graciously volunteered to be the surprise celebrity date.”

“Gracious is not the correct word Grayson. You all blackmailed me.”

“Details, details, so what do you say, Miss?” Dick waved off the accusation before offering his hand to her.

“Marinette and I would be delighted to save him from the woman here.”

They chatted idly as they made their way back, neither oblivious to the slight red tinting Damian’s cheeks. When the time came, Marinette made sure to place the first and last bid for Damian Wayne. And before the end of the night, she had four numbers to match her four new friends.

“Marinetteee, I didn’t find a single soul tonight that was there for a good time. What a bunch of sticks.”

Marinette chuckled as she slid into the limo, patting Adrien’s head with fake sympathy.

“A bunch of sticks indeed.” . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

The first time Marinette met the notorious Batman, she had gotten herself in over her head.

She had just wanted to find this new fabric shop that Jason had suggested, who would’ve known that one wrong turn in Gotham and she would end up in Rogue territory.

It had started just a handful of punks, intent on robbing her. Sure they had some knives, but she wasn’t worried at all. She only started freaking out when they seemed to duplicate right before her eyes. At the rate she was going, she was going to be overrun, no question about it.

At least until the man dropped from the sky. Marinette didn’t have time to process what had happened, instead she used the distraction to knock out the nearest goon. Even with the new help, they were still being overwhelmed.

“It’s time to get you out of here Miss, unfortunately, the two of us are not going to be enough for this guy.”

“This guy?”

Surely he wasn’t insinuating these masked men were one guy, right? He didn’t answer her as he pulled her into his side, sending his grapple into the dark sky. The landing was slightly rough as Marinette rolled to a stop, stumbling to her feet to get a good look at the man.

His suit was odd. Everything was fine from the coordinating red and black to the yellow robin perched on his breastplate, but what really did it for her was the spandex black hood covering his hair and eyes seemingly connected to his cape.

“My God, Is that connected to your hood?” Marinette pinched at the material covering half his head, amazed as it snapped back into place immediately. “You know you could really hurt yourself like this?”

She paced around him admiring the handiwork of his suit. If she had to make a guess, this was most likely Red Robin. Her eyes narrowed in around the neck, a small string almost unnoticeable sat at the base.

“Ohh I get it now, you pull this little string right here and it’s like an emergency relief. Okay, I’ll let the weird hood slide.”

He seemed to pay her no mind as he slipped the small device in his hand back into one of his many pockets.

“Ma’am, backup is on the way, I’m going to have to ask you to stay right here until one of us lets you down.”

“Hmm, would this be considered kidnapping?”

Red Robin stumbled over himself trying to explain that it was for her own safety, that Batman would never kidnap her. It took everything in her not to bust out laughing from his distress. She waved off his rambling as he watched him jump back down into the herd of men below.

Now that she was alone, maybe she could transform, help him. She turned from her spot only to come face to face with another superhero.

“Oh no, you can’t skip away, I’m pretty sure Red told you to hold your position.”

“Dude, I just really was trying to get to this 24-hour fabric shop that my friend told me about. I can’t help that danger just seems to follow me.”

The man clicked his tongue before reaching out to ruffle her hair in an annoyingly familiar way.

“Sorry small fry, just you and me until Red down there can relay a plan.”

Small fry? Only one obnoxiously fun person in Gotham City has referred to her like that and the more she stared him down, the more the gears started to turn in her head.

“Do I look good from that angle? Am I mesmerizing to you? Is the moonlight reflecting off my hair blinding you?”

If she had any doubts before, the ridiculous poses from the man in front of her only confirmed what she had thought. Before she could ask, the man quickly placed his finger up to his ear, his face dropping to deadly serious.

“Okay, so princess, I’m going to have to ask you nicely to stay up here. Robin should be here at any moment to make sure of it, but the situation just got a little bit more dire. Nice meeting you though, try not to fall in love with me when I save your life.”

Marinette wouldn't even respond as she leaned over the edge watching the fight ensue down below. Another two heroes had arrived, one in a blue and black suit, the thin mask concealing his eyes. The other?

“Oh mon Dieu, that’s Batman!”

“Are you always this obvious?” A hand barely touched her shoulder and on instinct, Marinette gripped it, pulling the attacker over her back and slamming them into the roof.

“Oh, oh, oh, I’m so sorry Robin. I guess I got a little spooked from the fight down below.”

The man stared at her with an unreadable expression before adjusting his hood, scooting a couple inches back before standing. He kept one hand on a small piece jutting out of his ear that she only assumed was a comm as if waiting for instructions.

“Hey, do you know the identity of the other’s down there?”

“Tt, of course I do, what kind of question is that?”

She shook her head, a small smile pulling at her lips.

“Nothing much, just wondering. You know, Red Robin said something about those goons being one guy, does that mean you guys are looking for one person in particular to stop the clones?”

“How do you know so much about Multiplex?”

“I don’t,” she shrugged her shoulders as nonchalantly as she could. “I’m just trying to get a grasp of my situation. If you were to ask me though, they’re not going to find him in the crowd down there and even if Batman is looking for the direction they could be coming from, he has no vantage point to see.”

Robin paused for a moment as if he was going to regret the next words that came out of his mouth.

“Fine, if I were to ask you, where do you think the main copy is?”

Marinette pointed wordlessly to the building they were standing on. Reaching out, she grabbed Robin’s hand pulling him to where she stood.

“Unhand me wo-” Marinette placed her finger on his lips waiting for him to silence before motioning over the edge to where the alleyway entrance was propped open.

“When I first got here, that’s the direction the first three came from. Now if my theory is correct, this Multiplex guy doesn’t need to be on sight to create copies and once he creates a copy, that copy can multiply no matter how many times it’s beaten down. So him sending only three out, can make six men minimum, right?”

Robin simply nodded, but she could see the wheel’s turning in his head, matching her own.

“You’re saying that if I enter that door down there, he should be somewhere in this warehouse that we’re standing on.”

“I’m saying if we go down there with an inhibitor collar, we can help Batman.”

“Absolutely not Mar-Miss. It’s too dangerous for a civilian. You can stay right here.”

All it took was one reminder that she had flipped him on instinct and he was the trained one for Robin to bring her down with him. In a matter of minutes, Robin had taken down Multiplex, surprised that she was right.

They were in the middle of an argument when the others stepped through the door, all wearing the same shocked expressions.

“Miss, what were you doing here this late at night?”

Marinette paused, the sudden realization that she was indeed standing in front of Batman, arguing with his sidekick that she was more competent than he was, how embarrassing.

“I really was just looking for this 24-hour fabric store that my friend Jason told me about. Do any of you know anything about that? Oh, better yet, can someone take me there? I really have so much work to be done and so little time to do it in.”

The five of them exchanged glances as if they weren’t sure who should go. It was like watching an involuntary ‘nose-goes’ game.

“Robin will take you.”

There was a slight grumble, but even he couldn’t hide the blush peeking out from under his mask. It only took five minutes by grapple and as he sat her down on the pavement, Marinette pecked his cheek.

“I think you might need a new disguise little bird,” she sent him a wink before turning to enter the store, unable to hide her own blush forming.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

The first time Ladybug met the Wayne’s, she was in the wrong place at the right time.

She just wanted to drop off a new Lgeimat recipe that she had definitely not been trying to perfect ever since Damian mentioned his middle eastern heritage. So, you could imagine her surprise when she found Poison Ivy standing on the mansion’s doorstep.

Setting the plate on top of the call box, Marinette wasted no time transforming. Slinging her yo-yo, she pulled Ivy off her feet, landing on top of the woman as the door swung open.

“My lord, what do we have here?”

Alfred stepped backward, his eyes scanning over the scene in front of him. Marinette wanted to shove her yo-yo into Ivy’s mouth to end the string of curses falling out. Honestly, it was enough to turn the tips of Marinette’s ears pink.

“Master Bruce, your visitor has arrived and with a friend,” Alfred called behind him, stepping out of the door frame only to allow Bruce to fill it instead.

“Mr. Wayne, I was patrolling and a young woman came running up frightened for your safety. She said she was on her way to surprise you when she caught sight of this rogue on your doorstep.”

Bruce looked slightly amused. Marinette wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or worried at that fact.

“What may I call you Miss?”

“Uh, Ladybug.”

“Miss Ladybug, Dr. Isley here was my guest tonight, not an enemy, but I can understand the confusion. We had a new arboretum to talk about. Would you please release her?”

Marinette was sure her face matched her suit. She quickly withdrew her yo-yo, offering her hand for Ivy to stand. The woman ignored her, still cursing under her breath as Alfred led her inside leaving Bruce to stand with her on the porch.

“I’m so sorry Mr. Wayne. The young woman sounded frantic, I was only trying to help.”

Bruce waved off her apology, even going as far as inviting her inside. She politely declined, trying to escape before she could embarrass herself even further. But it was futile. They finally settled on a picture with his sons who all were apparently big fans from her Paris days.

Marinette tried to feign ignorance to who the boys were, but it was so hard as they fawned over her outfit, asking her a million and one questions about Hawkmoth and Chat Noir. Even Damian seemed impressed by her standing in front of him.

“Oh my, I almost forgot.” Marinette took off in a jog to the front gate. “The young woman asked if I could deliver these to the youngest Wayne and I’m assuming that’s you.” She returned, handing off the plate to Damian whose eyes instantly softened.

“Lgeimat” it was barely a whisper, but Marinette felt her heart flip at how fond his voice sounded over the fritters. “If you see her before I do, please thank her.”

Marinette nodded, too scared of her own voice to answer. Bruce motioned for them to gather together as he pulled out his phone, snapping several photos at once. When she left, Marinette was jealous that she could never ask for a copy. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

The first time Ladybug met Batman she had accidentally landed in the middle of their meeting on top of Wayne Tower.

As soon as her feet hit the rooftop, all voices silenced, five sets of eyes landing on her position.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize this rooftop was taken, I’ll be on my way.”

She quickly unwound her yo-yo, ready to take off when a hand grasped her wrist, forcing her to stand down.

“Please, Ladybug, we actually have a few questions for you.”

It was Dick, no, Nightwing. She was sure without even having to look him in the eyes. No one else ever used such a soft gentle tone with her. Securing her yo-yo back in its rightful place, she nodded, walking over to where the rest of the group stood.

“Nice to finally meet you Ladybug, how long have you been in my city?”

The only thing holding her back from her theory that the Wayne brothers were the bat boys was the idea that this crude man in front of her was really Bruce Wayne. She had heard of split personality, but he took it to a whole new level.

“Quite a few months now. I try not to go out much considering this is your city to protect, but I had to out myself the other day to save a civilian. Turns out he didn’t need my help, but I figured it was in the open now that Paris’ hero was in Gotham City. Surprise?”

Red Hood looked like it was paining him to try and not laugh as she and Batman continued their staredown.

“When will you be leaving?”

“I’m not sure, I’ve started to grow fond of some people here, makes me want to settle down.”

She heard the hitch in Robin’s breath making her smirk stretch even further at the idea that he liked the thought.

“Would you be willing to reveal your identity to me? I don’t like unknowns in my city.”

“Only if you reveal yours first.”

She crossed her arms in mock defiance as Batman’s lips pulled into their own smirk.

“You’re Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”

“You’re Bruce Wayne.”

There was a moment of silence where neither party said a word. The others seemed to be glued, unsure who was going to move first. With a great sigh, Bruce reached up, pulling back his mask to reveal his face. Marinette smiled as she called off Tikki, revealing herself in the middle of the rooftop.

“I knew it. See, pay up Timmy boy.” Jason threw off his mask before lifting Marinette in the air in a bone-crushing hug.

“I was dumb to bet against it,” Tim pulled off his hood, a smirk monopolizing his face.

Dick didn’t even bother to let her regain her footing before sweeping her into a hug of his own. As he sat Marinette down, she couldn't help the nervous chuckle that escaped her lips as she turned to face Damian. His face was unreadable as he pulled back his hood. Slowly he reached forward, his hand tentatively touching her cheek as if to ensure that she was real.

“I, uh, wanted to thank you for the dessert. Nobody has really gone that far for me before and I, uh, appreciated it.”

He took a step forward, his whole hand cupping her cheek sending the butterflies in her stomach into a frenzy. Just as she thought something could happen, an arm around her shoulder pulled her swiftly out of Damian’s reach.

“Okay lovebirds, not in front of his dad! Princess, you can’t steal this boy’s first kiss in front of his daddy.”

The first time Marinette cried in Gotham City was that night. Her laughter turned into tears of joy as she watched Damian and Jason nearly kill each other while Dick and Tim placed bets. It would be the first time she felt this kind of joy, but far from the last.

After all, surrounded by Gotham’s biggest idiots, her friends, there were sure to be many more firsts.

Permanent Tag List:

@ash-amg @rebecarojas07 @heaven428 @long-lost-peace @thequeenofpotatoeunicornss @moongoddesskiana @nach0ava @iamablinkmarvelarmy @seraphkitty @clumsy-owl-4178 @pawsitivelymiraculous

[amjustagirl]

Chapters: one. ~ two. ~ three. ~ four. ~ five. ~ six. ~ seven. ~ eight.

Wordcount: 2.7k

Summary: Being with Miya Atsumu is like chasing a storm - equal parts exhilaration and danger. After all, it’s impossible to tame a storm

Masterlist here 

AO3 Link here

Atsumu didn’t get his name on the National team roster, let alone the Olympic team because of his genius setting skills (unlike dear Tobio-kun),  but because of the stubbornness and determination that he has in spades and figures he might as well deploy these same qualities to win this particular match. Osamu is of zero help here, muttering insults under his breath but fortunately, he has an unwitting accomplice in Shino, who happily babbles about how ‘mama is going to bring her to the park on Sunday’ . 

So armed with onigiris pilfered from Osamu and a box of mochi from her favourite dessert shop, he goes a-hunting for his wife and child at the park on Sunday afternoon and finds them lying on a picnic mat in an open field framed with trees.

‘Oto-san! ’ Shino squeals and dashes into his arms. He lifts her up, spinning her in the air, pressing kisses to her chubby cheeks. 

‘What are you doing here, Atsumu?’ she demands as she sits up. ‘How did you even know we’d be here?’ 

He winks and gives her his most dashing smile. It doesn’t seem to work though - the frown on her face deepens, but he tries not to let her look of distrust slice through the smile on his face. 

‘A little princess gave me a hint that her mama still has a habit of going to the park to watch the birds and clouds in the sky. Right, Shino?’

Shino cheers and waves her arms in reply. 

‘Good girl!’ he laughs encouragingly. 

She folds her arms and is about to retort when Shino demands that ‘Oto-san and Oka-san’ try to catch her - and takes off, barefoot on the grass. Atsumu catches her easily with one hand - because of course he does, a three year old is hardly a match against a national athlete, even with an injury, but Shino pouts when she sees the cross look on her mother’s face, and she has to hastily rearrange her expression into something more acceptable to her daughter. 

He counts it as a point won when they share the onigiris and mochi in silence and watch their little girl chase butterflies in the grass. 

‘What on earth are you doing here?!’ she says, feeling as if she’s woken up from a bad dream to find it actually is her reality. 

Atsumu stands in the foyer of her office building, in the middle of a conversation with Yuna-san, the resident office gossip, who shoots daggers at her when he bounds over to greet her with a peck on her cheek. 

‘I thought I’d surprise my dear wife with lunch,’ he drawls, with an emphasis on the word ‘wife’, passing her a bento box that smells amazing and makes her mouth water despite herself.

‘What are you playing at?!’ she hisses while pretending to tuck his hair behind his ear.   

‘Nothing!’ he answers her, a too-innocent look on his face. ‘And you’re welcome. Enjoy your lunch, sweetheart!’ 

He counts another point won when she’s left gaping at him incredulously as he prances off. 

He pats himself on the back for the stroke of genius that prompted him to pass Shino the three tickets to the Osaka Aquarium. Before she could utter even a word, Shino shrieked in excitement at the thought of being able to see her favourite penguins again, so with gritted teeth, she agreed to bring Shino to meet him at the aquarium on a Saturday afternoon. 

‘Did you know seahorses mate for life?’ he remarks to her as Shino gathers with the other children in front to watch the penguins being fed. 

‘And male seahorses are the responsible ones who bear their young - what’s your point anyway?’ she responds, contempt dripping from her voice. ‘Anyway, never mind that -’ she continues, brushing him off. ‘Have you signed the divorce papers?’

‘I forgot,’ he tells her lamely. 

‘See that you remember to pass it to me next time’, she says, walking ahead to scoop Shino up in her arms. 

Point lost. Time to recalibrate. 

‘Atsumu! What the hell am I supposed to do with FIFTY rolls of toilet paper?’ she shrieks over the phone. 

‘I may have bought a little too much…but there was a great discount!’ he responds sheepishly. 

He’d overheard a conversation between her and Osamu yesterday that she needed to make a grocery run but hadn’t had the time to do so in between endless meetings with her boss. He concedes he may have gone a little...overboard.

‘And how many cans of milk powder did you buy?!’ he continues to hear her scrabble through the cardboard crate outside her home. ‘Atsumu!’ 

‘Gotta go, bye darlin’ - talk to you soon!’, he says, hastily ending the call as she screeches at him. 

Shit. Another point lost.  

He brings out the big guns by buying season passes to the museum of natural history, gambling that a blatant appeal to nostalgia might win him some points. But he knows she recognises his gambit when she corners him while Shino is playing with toy fossils in the sandbox. 

‘Atsumu. When are you going to sign the divorce papers?’ she demands, her grip tight on his elbow. 

Defend. Counterattack. 

‘I’ll sign them after my collarbone heals and my arm is out of the sling, alright? I can’t even hold anything in my right hand, let alone sign anything now’, he says with a false smile.

Hold your opponent off until they start to tire. 

‘Fine’, she mutters, shooting him a hard stare. ‘Make sure you do. I’ll be waiting once that sling comes off’. 

Fuck. He’s backed himself into a corner. This might be a harder match than he imagined. 

He offers to look after Shino on a Friday evening when she mentions to Osamu her boss organised a client dinner that she can’t miss. She’d nodded reluctantly after a moment’s hesitation, and they agreed that he’d drop the little girl off at home around ten p.m. 

He fumbles with the keys pilfered from Osamu, pizza box balancing precariously on top of Shino’s pram and after an undignified struggle, manages to squeeze in through the doorway, finding the apartment completely still. With his one good arm, he lifts Shino from the pram, careful not to disturb her slumber and treads softly to her bedroom, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead as he tucks her in. 

As he returns back to the entryway to fold the pram away, a glint of gold catches his eye, and he forgets to breathe when he realises what it is – the wedding ring he'd deliberately left behind, an act calculated to inflict maximum pain. Wow, he really wishes he could go back in time and punch that stupid prick of his past self - he thinks, holding the ring up to the light, failing to spot any flecks of dust or dullness to the sheen of the ring. She's kept it meticulously clean, sitting in the exact same spot he left it, the sole artefact of their marriage that's been preserved against the passage of time. 

After all, he notices that she’s wiped the place clean of him, that much is obvious when he turns to survey the home he left almost a year ago. There are signs of Shino in the toys scattered all over the worn carpet in the living room, colourful scribbles on the walls that probably makes her fret, and there are little touches that remind him of her - the chipped teacup she insists on using, the set of handmade knives displayed in the kitchen that was always intended by her family as a threat. 

But there are no traces of him - no stray pieces of clothes or volleyballs that he always forgets to put away (that she’d always get on his case for), no picture frames of them, not even the ones from their wedding day that he’d loved because he thought she looked like a snow maiden from a fairytale in her white kimono. 

He’d promised her father that day he’d always take care of her. He wonders when he’d forgotten that. 

‘Tsumu?’ he hears her murmur, and he jumps a little in shock because he hadn’t noticed her curled up on the couch. ‘Have you come home?’ 

Yes – he aches to answer, but does not. 

(Because he knows he chose to turn his back on this little apartment, filled to the brim with happy, golden memories. It’s his fault he can’t call this place home, not anymore.)

‘I brought pizza in case you’re hungry’, he does say loudly – carefully keeping his distance as she sits up and shakes the sleep from her eyes. 

‘Oh. It’s you’, she says, and he can hear cold steel return to her voice. ‘Why are you still here?’ 

‘I brought pizza to share. It’s Friday night, remember?’ he answers, plastering a grin on to his face, gesturing at the pizza box on the kitchen table. ‘I even got pepperoni, your favourite’. 

‘You can’t keep playing this game, Atsumu’, she says, walking over to the switches to flick on the lights. It brings her into clearer focus, allowing him to notice the pink scars stretched across the back of her hand and the front of her knees -  were they always there before? 

His eyes sweep over her form - and oh -  his heartbeat thunders, roaring in his chest because she’s wrapped herself in his old jacket - the same one he’d stolen from Osamu and threw over her trembling shoulders that fateful night when he stole a kiss from her for the first time.     

‘I miss you’. He blurts out, startling himself. ‘I want us to be a family again’. 

‘I don’t’, she answers so forcefully it makes him take a step back. ‘I want a divorce, Atsumu’. 

‘But why?’ he persists, ignoring the spike of panic coursing through his blood. ‘If you give me a chance, we could try to start over again.’

‘How many chances do you think you deserve, because you’ve already left me  twice, damn you!’ she shouts, pulling the jacket tighter around herself, as if to keep herself from unravelling apart. ‘The first time you left me when I was pregnant with our child was enough of a blow – but the second time I fell to  pieces and if it weren’t for Shino and ‘Samu, I would’ve never been able to weld myself back together again. And now after all this time, you want me to take you back?’

‘It’s only been a few months’, he pleads, hating how stupid his excuses sound, even in his head. ‘I should've managed it better, I should’ve talked things out with you instead of just leaving, and if I could rewind time and change what I did, I would, but I can’t, and I regretted it so goddamn much when I got to Milan. I’m back now, I’m begging you - please give me another chance.’ 

‘Why would you even think you deserve another chance’, she laughs, the sound fraying at its seams, sending shivers down his spine. ‘You’ve spent our entire marriage putting your dreams first, Shino a distant second, and me - your fucking wife - dead last. This past year has taught me that I don’t need you, ‘Tsumu, I don’t need your lying, cheating ass in my life when I can manage perfectly fine by myself’. 

‘I didn’t cheat on ya’, he defends himself heatedly, but she levels him a hard glare that makes his gaze slide to the ground. ‘I mean - I thought about it, but I couldn’t go through with it’, he admits, guilt flooding his belly. 

‘Is that supposed to make me feel better?’ she says dryly, rolling her eyes. 

‘Yes - no - I don’t know.’, he answers. ‘Look doll - I know I’ve been an asshole, I know I’ve hurt ya badly, but I know you still love me - you know your face gives ya away when you lie’, he adds, when she opens her mouth to contradict him, and she closes it in defeat. ‘Otherwise you won't be wearing my jacket when you sleep, neither would you keep my ring clean. And if ya love me, don’t ya think you should give me another chance?’

Her face twists in anguish, and there’s a rush of shame in his chest that he tells himself to ignore, reaching forward instead to cup her cold face with his hands. She winces at first, almost as if his touch is scalding, white hot with heat, but soon surrenders when she realises his grip on her is unwavering, lifting her gaze to meet his. 

‘You can’t do this to me, ‘Tsumu’, she says, her voice brittle, echoing with an aching sadness that tears a hole into his already gaping heart. 'You can’t leave as and when you feel like it and return when it suits you – that’s not how marriage or fatherhood works. And it’s not fair for you to try to guilt me into taking you back. Why should I give you another chance only to end up being hurt again? I'm only human, and there’s only so much my heart can take'.

It’s only then that it hits him that while she may have transformed herself in his absence into a woman of iron and steel, her heart is still made of glass, and a single careless touch might shatter her into fragments across the floor. And he knows he shouldn’t strike her any further with his words, but he’s a selfish fool of a man - always has been, always will be - so he pretends he does not see her pain  (looks deliberately away from the fissures in her heart that might cause her to fall apart) and continues to press hard. 

‘Please - just trust me enough not to hurt ya, I just need one more chance. Tell me ya still love me - even now.’ 

‘I do, oh gods, I do, ‘Tsumu-  ’ she gasps, almost as if she’s drowning in a whirlpool of his selfishness, her breath tipping over into a broken sob - ‘I love you, but our marriage is over - it was over the minute you put yourself before Shino and I, and left us behind to fend for ourselves.’

He shakes his head, desperately flailing against the death knell in her words - because it can’t be over, he refuses to accept it’s over, what does she mean it’s over - but he stills when she chokes back her tears to smile, lifting her hand to meet his. 

‘I’ve already paid you with my heart, ‘Tsumu - don’t you think I deserve to be free?’

Her words swirl in his mind as he makes his way back to Osamu’s flat. 

‘Things didn’t go so well, I take it?’ Osamu asks as he lurches through the door with overcast eyes. 

He inhales slowly through his nose. ‘Nope’, he admits, exhaling in defeat. ‘She isn’t prepared to take me back.’ 

Osamu pulls out a chair at the kitchen table and waves him to take a seat, sliding a plate of reheated curry rice under his nose when he does. ‘Eat up’, he says, not unkindly, and Atsumu does, even though the smell makes his head spin and every swallow of food lodges itself painfully in his stomach. 

‘Go on, say what’s on yer mind’, Atsumu says, knowing his brother too well to see through his posture of nonchalance. ‘I know you’re gonna tell me ‘ I told you so ’ and mock me with some insult intended to make me feel worse than I already am’. 

‘I’m not going to gloat, if that’s what you mean’, Osamu says mildly. ‘All I can say is that the heart is a funny, fickle thing, and sometimes it hungers for things it knows will only bring pain. But I think ya know you’ve reached a point where you need to consider whether you can live with yourself for constantly causing her pain.’ 

Atsumu stays silent, fingers tracing absently over the outline of the wedding ring in his pocket. He wonders if he’s imagining the coolness from the metal seeping into his skin.