#I’m not grateful now. I wasn’t grateful then after he stopped pretending either. but I’m glad I get to walk away and never live near

[goldkirk]

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[digitaldiarystuff]

False Hope

okay don’t kill me but the only reason this turned smuttish and not full on smut is because i don’t know if i can write it good so the story was supposed to be different but it’s okay right 🥺 let me know if you liked it pleaseee

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pairing: Pedri Gonzalez x Y/N

summary: you’re close friends with Pedri and pretty much in love with him, pretending you’re not you went to comfort him but he seeks the comfort in a different way than you would’ve expected

genre: suggestive but not quite, angst

————

“Hola, Pepi?” you asked walking in the house with the spare key after ringing the doorbell for 5 minutes, you were supposed to have a chill day at his place but he didn’t answer.

You figured he could’ve been resting giving the injury he’s had and maybe he forgot you were coming over. You and Pedri were good friends, you’ve met 2 years ago and were in a friend group together but soon enough your so-called friends dumped you which caused you to be depressed for a while but even though you were never the closest, Pedri was there for you.

He didn’t have to but still told all your ex friends off and even cut contact with most of them and you were grateful for his friendship. You may also have a slight crush on him since the day he argued on your behalf, you weren’t a weak person nor needed someone else to fight your battles but seeing him stand up for you was something not even your exes did and you couldn’t help but fall for him. He was just that sweet but you knew this was a stupid crush, boys like that belonged to supermodels and actresses not law students.

You slowly made your way into his home but there was nothing, you thought about going right back out but this would be an embarrassing story to tell him later. Oh yeah I broke into your home with a spare key and snooped around, lovely but as you were losing hope you heard the shower running.

Taking a deep breath you calmed yourself down and went into the kitchen, he’d probably not eaten anything since last night and you were mostly concerned about his mental state. Pedri had a tendency to blame himself for things he didn’t have control over and it honestly broke your heart. He was always trying his best at anything and going above and beyond but sometimes life’s just like this and you need to accept reality and stop putting pressure on yourself. You started to make some pancakes, that could make him feel better.

“Y/N?” a voice came behind you and you dropped the spoon in your hand from the shock.

“Oh my… You scared the shit out of me!” you exclaimed putting the spoon in the sink.

“I’m the one whose house is broken into and you’re angry at me.” he clipped back and you got a good look at him, his hair was wet and he wasn’t wearing a shirt just sweatpants but you couldn’t even care about his perfectly toned body because his eyes were bloodshot and he had bags under them showing you he’d been crying for a long while.

“I’m sorry Pepi.” you said and lunged at him throwing yourself at his arms and he was quick to catch you.

He didn’t say anything just held you close, he looked like he really needed this.

“How are you feeling?” you asked already knowing the answer and tried to pull back but he didn’t let you. Just then you realized the state you were in, his naked and moist chest against you and you couldn’t control your body’s reaction against him, slowly tracing his back with your fingers. You knew you shouldn’t think about him like that, especially not now but his hot breath on your neck was turning your legs into jelly and his breath was getting uneven every time you got to his neck slowly caressing the hair on it.

Meanwhile his hands weren’t still either, he was stroking your sides and hips absentmindedly but he was just doing it to calm himself, right? Just then he pressed a feather like kiss on the nape of your neck making your breathing stop. He could sense it and chuckled lowly but didn’t stop. Pedri kept placing innocent kisses all along your neck and behind your ear and your hands were still holding him tightly. When he found the spot that made your knees go weak you exhaled and made a small noise.

“Pedri”

“Shh” he said and kept going, his kisses were more sensual and open mouthed now and one of his hands found your hips pulling you harshly into him. Your body was quickly on fire, his touch burning your skin.

You felt all your logic go out the window as he started sucking on your neck possibly leaving a mark but at that moment he could do pretty much anything and you couldn’t stop him. He finally stopped his attack on your neck and leaned his forehead against yours eyes closed, you knew you could’ve stopped him right then and there but your judgement was too clouded with the feelings you had for him. You wanted him to kiss you but he was taking his time so you hastily leaned in kissing his lips like you wished all this time. He didn’t even lose a second and started devouring you. His lips were made for you and you’ve never felt this electricity with any boy you’ve kissed. You wanted Pedri, you wanted more. You’ve been patient, you’ve waited for a long time for him to give you this kind of attention but in the back of your mind you also knew he was at a low point and was worried this could be bad for both of you. Your friendship was on the line.

“Pedri, um”

He kept silencing you with his movements and even went as far as unbuttoning your jeans and inching his hand slowly inside. He was agonizingly slow and too fast at the same time, it felt like a movie. You held his forearm not sure whether to pull it back or push it where you need him the most but you just couldn’t.

“Pedro.” you said with a final will, you knew if he reached inside your pants there was no going back and you didn’t even want to go back but you were also afraid of being used just for once. Were you ready to be a bandaid only used at a crisis time?

When he heard you call his full name he suddenly stopped and leaned back, you’ve never seen him like this and it took everything in you to not lean in and close the distance letting him have his way with you however he pleased. His eyes were even darker and filled with lust in contrary to how they’ve been when you arrived, his lips were plump and he was breathing heavily. He’s never looked so sexy in your eyes but as soon as he came to realize what he’s been doing he panicked.

“Y/N I’m so so sorry I don’t know what happened I…”

“It’s okay. Um, really it’s fine I mean you’re feeling bad and I was near so I understand you don’t have to…” you trailed off but couldn’t even pretend it was really okay.

For a second you thought maybe this was real and he wasn’t just into you now that you’re here to heal him but that all went away as soon as he started to talk. You put a sad smile on your face and turned back.

“I should get back to the pancakes.”

“You don’t have to” he said awkwardly scratching the back of his neck.

“No it’s fine really, I need to head out after I finish these anyway.”

“What, why? Where are you going?” he asked panicking, you knew he was going to blame himself for this too but in the two years you’ve known him this was the first time he really was to blame. You blinked back a tear in your eye and answered him.

“I just have some errands to run, maybe I’ll see you next week.”

He didn’t say anything for a while, you even thought he left the room until spoke again.

“Oh okay.”

[hugmekenobi]

S2: The Bad Batch (13)

Chapter Thirteen: Pabu

Gif by @im-no-jedi

Hunter x femaleJedi!reader

Series Summary: Some time has passed since everything that happened at Kamino and you and the Batch are trying to figure out your place in the rapidly changing Imperial galaxy. And you're having to do all this whilst figuring out where your relationship with Hunter fits into it.

Chapter Summary: The life on the run from Cid isn't working out and so Phee offers to bring you all to her home away from home.

Masterlist for S1

<Previous Chapter

Genre: Friends (idiots) to Lovers (we're in the lovers stage now)

Chapter Warnings: Canon-typical violence, swearing, very minor moments of unwanted advances, mild injury description, mentions of food and drinks, instances of innuendo, SMUT (non-explicit descriptions of kissing and making out, light biting/marking, light bondage, oral (m & f receiving), brief f. masturbation, fingering, unprotected P n V (be safe in reality please), grinding, multiple Os with hints at overstimulation, Hunter talks you through it, a flash of cum eating), mild angsty thoughts but lots of fluff and feelings too, reader do be scheming, and my usual points of going slightly off-plot and the Force doing what I need it to

Word Count: 8.8K

Author's notes: Two panic attacks and two academic essays later lol, I finally have this chapter! I am so sorry it has been such a long wait but I hope you all enjoy!

You were feeling more like yourself. You still didn’t know what had set you off, and it did remain a lingering thought in the back of your mind, but it wasn’t having a negative impact on you anymore. A fact you were grateful for because doing this mission with Phee required you all to be focused.

You had been briefed by her before heading into the bar, with Tech remaining as your getaway driver. Omega would make the deal alongside Phee whilst the rest of you split up and took inconspicuous spots around the space.

You drowned out the general chatter from the bar patrons and ignored the gentle thrum of the music as you stayed on guard whilst you went to your positions and waited. Hunter sat by one of the card tables, you had taken up home by the bar and Wrecker sat amongst another group at another table. Phee and Omega were at the top booth and sitting across from Phee’s contact- Crowder- who had two of his men on either of him as well as scattered throughout the bar.

You pretended to nurse a drink as you played your part. One downside of your spot however meant you were having to wave away those that believed they had a chance with you. One such person was now stood directly in front of you.

“Not interested.” You replied coolly before he had a chance to speak. Much to your surprise, he just shrugged and walked away. You doubted that would be a common theme, but you’d take it, nonetheless.

--

The meeting between Phee and Crowder seemed to be going okay but you knew nothing was certain in these situations. You were also having to balance keeping an eye on them and still seeing off those that still approached you and it was time to do that again as another man stood in front of you.

“Come here often?”

You just sighed and shook your head and looked past him.

“Hey, I’m talking to you.” He waved a hand in front of your face.

“Look, I’m really not-” You stopped abruptly as you saw Hunter stand and throw his blade in the direction of Phee- it looked like his target had been the Kouhun bug- and stand up tall. You were glad you were still sitting down because- had you been standing- you were sure that you would’ve just melted to the floor after seeing him do that and you had to fight to keep your jaw from dropping open. Gathering yourself, you got ready to act since it looked like your services were going to be required after all since Crowder’s men were on their feet with their guns drawn in the directions of Hunter and Phee.

“I’ll be taking the artifact now. You should’ve brought more muscle than that, Phee.” Crowder sneered.

A deep chuckle got his attention, and it was then he saw another man stand up tall from one of the tables. He towered over his men.

“She did.” Wrecker said as he cracked his neck.

You patted the newest arrival on the shoulder. “Yeah, this is the part where you might want to head on out.” You whispered to the now taken aback man beside you. You pulled out your blaster and stepped away from the bar and focused your stare on the enemy ahead of you.

“Now it’s getting interesting.” Phee said.

Wrecker made the first move and the club descended into chaos. Customers ran out screaming whilst the rest of you dealt with Crowder’s men and took cover from their blaster fire.

You flipped a table and crouched behind it and spoke urgently into your comm, “Tech, we need a pickup.”

“On my way.”

Crowder’s reinforcements had arrived and there wasn’t much more the rest of you could do. You had the credits and the artifact Phee wanted, there was no sense in staying.

“I think it’s time to go!” Omega called from her position.

“Wrecker!” Hunter signalled to his brother as they both threw a smoke bomb to give you all adequate cover to leave.

Tech arrived with the Marauder just as you all exited the club and with a few defensive rounds of blaster fire, you were able to safely get on the ship and get outta there.

--

“You have to stop doing things like that in public.” You murmured as you walked beside him into the cockpit.

“Hmm?” He glanced at you.

“The thing with the knife. The thing were you just look so damn competent and capable.”

“You mean my job?” Hunter teased.

You shot him a look. “Well, you need to stop doing your job like that. Because every time you do, I get distracted by thoughts I should not be having on missions like that.” You sighed irritably leaned back against the wall and crossed your arms.

“Yeah?” Hunter tilted his head and smirked at you. He looked down the hallway to see Phee, Wrecker and Omega still talking and a look back at Tech told him his brother was not paying either of you any attention. He took a step closer to you and crowded you further into the wall. He brought his lips to your neck and gently traced your skin as he whispered, “It’s not just you, believe me…” He trailed off and planted a series of soft kisses against your neck and jaw.

You allowed yourself to enjoy it for a moment before you affectionately pushed him away from you. “That’s not helping.”

“Do I wanna know?” Phee asked. She had entered the cockpit just as you had created the distance between you and Hunter.

Hunter cleared his throat, and you just shook your head and you both focused on regaining your composure.

You stayed where you were as Phee took the seat next to you and Hunter situated himself on the one just behind Tech that faced one of the other control panels.

“Now that was a fun mission.” Omega said gleefully as she and Wrecker remained down in the main part of the ship.

“You got that right.” Wrecker said with a chuckle.

Phee peered back at the young girl before she addressed the rest of you. “You know, Omega was pretty impressive back there.”

“Her training’s paying off.” Hunter said as he turned his seat to answer.

“Oh, I know she’s got the whole soldier-thing down. But don’t you think she should learn some other skills?”

“What other skills?” Tech asked as he too now turned to face Phee.

“Omega spends all her time with you four. She needs friends. Ones her own age and who don’t share her genetic profile.”

“We never had such a thing. I do not see the issue.” Tech said dismissively.

“No kidding.” Phee said with a small, exasperated smile. She looked at you. “You get what I’m talking about, right? You had your own life before these guys.”

You didn’t really know how to answer that. Your upbringing hadn’t been that different from theirs but even you had to concede that she had a point on that one. It wasn’t exactly the most typical environment to grow up in so it probably wouldn’t hurt if Omega could experience a different side of life that wasn’t always about when the next dangerous mission was going to be. Before you could answer, Tech spoke again.

“We’re receiving a transmission. It is from Cid.”

You shared a mildly concerned look with Hunter. It had to happen sooner or later. She wouldn’t let you guys get off that easily.

Hunter stood up. “Let’s hear it.”

Wrecker and Omega joined the rest of you to hear the message.

Tech patched the message through, and Cid’s holographic image filled the cockpit.

“So, it’s been 20 rotations and no word. You better be dead because your absence has cost me a few scores. Remember our mutually beneficial arrangements, and how well we know one another; if you know what I mean. You’d do well not assume I am just threatening you boys.” The transmission ended.

A beat of silence past before Phee filled it. “You didn’t mention you cut ties with Cid.”

“Our mutually beneficial arrangement wasn’t so beneficial, mutually.” Hunter said sheepishly.

“Figured that out, did you?” Phee sprawled back in her chair. “I’ve known Cid a long time. She’s a useful ally, but not someone you want to cross. Do you have a plan?”

“You’re looking at it.” Hunter said.

You could tell he was mildly embarrassed at not being to offer anything more. You knew he didn’t like the aimless nature of what you all were doing right now. You squeezed his hand in reassurance.

“In that case, you all are coming with me.” Phee stated.

Hunter angled himself to face you as he sought your input.

You shrugged. We can’t keep doing what we’re doing, and you know that. If Phee is offering a place for us to go, there’s no harm in taking it. At least for a little while.

Phee watched you and Hunter do that thing again. She figured now was good a moment to put her plan into action whilst the two of you were focused on each other. “You guys ever get sick of their silent communication style?”

“Nah, she does it with all of us.” Wrecker said absent-mindedly, not realising his mistake until he’d finished speaking and saw all sets of eyes on him. “Um, I mean…”

“With all of you, huh?” Phee said curiously, angling her face to yours. You didn’t conceal your wince quick enough. That definitely confirmed that what she’d seen between you and Omega on Nal Hutta was the same thing that occurred between you and Hunter. “What does he mean by that?”

“Nothing.” You said defensively, crossing your arms as you stood on guard.

“Not an option for an answer. I’ve noticed this thing you got going on for a while. I won’t back down on this anymore.”

“Phee…” Hunter cautioned.

“Come on, Bandana. If I’m to take you to a place I keep close to my chest, I should be told about this. Haven’t we established some trust here? (Y/N), I promise I won’t tell, whatever it is?”

You glanced to Hunter who shrugged. “It’s not my secret to tell. If you want to, you can.”

Your eyes flickered over to the others who all- along with an apologetic smile from Wrecker- nodded in agreement with Hunter. You inhaled slowly. She had been helping you all out when she didn’t have to. You could do this for her. You focused on keeping the nerves out your voice as you spoke. “I’m a Jedi, Phee. What you’ve so keenly observed is me talking to the others without speaking out loud. They’re hearing my voice in their head.”

Phee’s jaw dropped. In all her travels, she’d only ever had the luxury of learning about your kind. She’d never been fortunate enough to meet one and she’d never have guessed you’d be the person to finally let her achieve that. “A Jedi?” She repeated in a hushed tone. “You mean you survived?”

You shifted on your feet awkwardly. “I mean sure, technically I did, but I left the Jedi Order long before the purge and this lot didn’t find out until after so my survival story is a bit different. Don’t really think it counts as one to be quite honest.” You added quietly, more to yourself than anyone else.

Hunter cleared his throat at you in gentle reprimand.

Phee nodded and didn’t want to press you for further information. She gathered your past would be a sensitive area, so she moved on. “So, what does one have to do to get in on that level of communication?” She asked eagerly.

You rolled your eyes. “Well, liking the person is a start.” You teased light-heartedly as you saw her frown. “That and time spent together helps strengthen the bond I need for it.”

“And where am I at in the process?”

“I’ll let you know.” You said nonchalantly.

Phee let out a grumbled sigh, but she accepted this. “I meant what I said, your secret is safe with me.”

You did find yourself believing her.

“Alright then, with that business taken care of, let’s get going!” Phee said cheerily as she walked over to Tech. She placed a hand on his shoulder. “Head to these coordinates, brown eyes.”

Tech, taken aback by the placement of her hand, did as she requested.

--

“Welcome to Pabu, my home away from home.” Phee said happily as she led the way off the ship. “It’s a hidden sanctuary of sorts.”

When Phee had offered to take you all with her, this was the last type of place you expected to end up at. The island was serene and beautiful. The sun was warm and shone brightly, highlighting the greens of the plants and the blues of the ocean. You were immediately filled with a sense of calm as you stepped down the stairs.

Phee gestured to the large building ahead. “That’s the Archium. It’s where the artifact will be stored. It holds treasures from all over the galaxy.”

“My analysis indicates that this so-called artifact you recovered is of very little to no monetary value.” Tech informed from his datapad.

“Treasure can mean many things.” Phee countered. “Most of the villagers on Pabu are refugees. Many of the items I recover are remnants of their cultures, and that’s worth preserving.”

You realised how poorly you’d judged Phee. There was far more to her than you’d realised. You opened your mouth. “Phee, I’m-”

Phee just shook her head. “Don’t worry about it. It’s like I told you in the beginning, I am a liberator-”

“Liberator of ancient wonders.”

You all turned in the direction of the new voice to see a cheery looking man walking over with a young girl you assumed to be his daughter. You watched as he walked over and embraced Phee.

“About time you showed your face around here.”

“Miss me, Shep?” Phee asked with a smile as she stepped back.

“You’ve got some competition.” Wrecker taunted Tech.

You bit back the laugh that threatened to leave you face at the bewildered expression on Tech’s face at Wrecker’s words.

“Auntie Phee!”

Phee knelt down and hugged the young girl.

“What’d you bring this time?” She asked eagerly.

Phee showed her the artifact.

“Looks like one of a kind.”

“Good eye.” Phee complimented.

“That’s not all you brought, I see.” Shep said as he examined the group behind her.

“This is Shep Hazard, Mayor of Pabu, and his daughter, Lyana.” Phee introduced them both as they walked over to you all. “Shep, Lyana, meet, Omega, Hunter, (Y/N), Wrecker and Tech.”

Shep went up to each of you one by one to welcome you.

Lyana walked up shyly to Omega. “Phee’s never brought any friends here before.”

“Never? Not even Cid?”

“Nope.” Phee answered.

“So why bring us?” You asked her.

“Makes you wonder, doesn’t it?”

“She must really like you.” Lyana muttered to Omega.

“Alright. That’s enough out of you.” Phee scolded affectionately.

“Then it’s settled. You’ll join us for dinner.” Shep declared.

“There’s no saying no to Shep’s famous feast. Lots of food, drink and general merrymaking. You two’ll probably hate it.” Phee kidded at you and Tech.

“You’re not helping your case.” You reminded her with a roll of your eyes, but a smile graced your lips.

Phee raised her hands before she half-turned to Shep. “Lead the way, Shep. I’ll catch up.”

You all made to follow Shep, but you couldn’t help but notice Tech linger to look back at Phee and it warmed your heart. You just wished he would clue into the part of his brilliant brain that would realise he and Phee had potential.

“Leave them alone.” Hunter whispered as he wrapped an arm around your shoulder to turn your gaze away and focus on walking behind Shep.

How are you not more invested in this?

“It’s not that I’m not invested but I know my brother, and this is something he needs to take at a very slow pace.”

You conceded the point with a nod. “You’re so good.” You knew he was right. You focused instead on taking in your new surroundings.

--

The more you got to see of Pabu as you walked, the more you loved it. Everything was so pretty and letting Omega run ahead with Lyana felt completely safe, there wasn’t a threat to be found. It felt natural to be here.

“Upper Pabu is the oldest part of the island.” Shep informed you all as you paused to take in the magnificent view of the island and its crystal-clear blue waters. “As we’ve grown over the years, we’ve expanded the wall into Lower Pabu.”

You leaned over the wall to take it all in.

“Hi, Shep!”

“Hi, Mr Eenta. How are Sari and Micha?” Shep replied warmly to the old man that had approached them.

Mr Eenta let out a cheery high-pitched laugh. “They’re doing good. Thanks for asking, Shep. I see we got some newcomers here too. Although we haven’t had some quite as lovely as you join our community in a long time.” He added with a kind smile in your direction.

You smiled in thanks at the man and elbowed Hunter playfully. “Gotta up your game, I might just run off with him.”

“Ha ha.” Hunter replied drily as he drew you into his side and pressed a soft kiss to your hairline.

Mr Eenta laughed at your words. “I best be off but welcome to the island! Feel free to stop by anytime!”

“Nice to see you!” Shep waved him goodbye.

“Uh, do you know everyone here?” Wrecker asked Shep.

“Of course. We’re all like family. Now, if you’ll continue to follow me, I can show you were you and (Y/N) will be staying.” Shep said to Hunter. “I have a place for the rest of you too and Omega can go to either house, but I gather it would be best to show that to you after dinner?”

“Staying?” Hunter repeated.

Shep paused for a moment. “Well, I imagine you two’ll want some privacy before dinner tonight. There’s plenty of time. Unless I’ve read things wrong, or you want to stay as a group-”

“You have read things correctly.” Tech said without looking up from his datapad.

“Tech-” Hunter started.

“Yes, please, take them somewhere far away from us.” Wrecker said in an exaggerated manner.

You punched his arm.

Shep paid little attention to the teasing insinuations. He remembered what it was like to be young and in love. “We’ll pass my home on the way anyway so you can see Omega get settled and join us in an hour or so?”

You and Hunter glanced at one another before Hunter nodded his agreement and you both walked beside Shep trying not to look too eager or walk too quickly.

--

You didn’t remember much about the place you were staying. All that really registered with you was the discarded pieces of armour and weapons by the door and the short route from the doorway to the bedroom. From what you did recall; it was very cosy and homey, but right now your focus was on the fact you were sat across Hunter’s lap at the edge of the bed. Your kisses were slow and deep, there was no residing worry of being interrupted or needing to be rushed and the two of you were perfectly content with not rushing things, both too intoxicated by the feeling of your lips on each other’s skin and the noises leaving your mouths.

“I want to call this in.” You panted against his lips as your fingers traced the red scarf.

Hunter groaned as he felt you grind against him. “But I-”

“I want to call this in.” You repeated seductively as you lifted it over his head and pulled back to look into his eyes. “Please.” You murmured as you pressed delicate kisses along his jaw.

“Let me see you come undone first.” He rasped as his fingers twisted in your clothing to keep him grounded.

You were confused for a moment.

“Just like this.” He emphasised as he took a hold of your hips and moved you against him once more, relishing the soft sigh that left your throat. “Do this for me and then you can have your way.” He negotiated with a kiss behind your ear.

You nodded before you placed the scarf on the bed and threaded your fingers in his hair. Your lips met his once more and as you moved your hips with more purpose, your kisses grew more desperate as each of you swallowed the moans that left your lips at the sensations happening right now. With his help, you were able to find the angle that had your breathing and heartbeat quickening and your grip on his shoulders tightened, your fingers coiled in his clothing.

“Hunter-” You said through a gasp as that familiar feeling started to rise in your body.

“Let it happen.” He encouraged as he kissed you again and gently bit down on your lip.

You finished with a groan and your head fell into the crook of his shoulder as you caught your breath.

“Did so well for me.” Hunter whispered as he stroked your back.

You sucked a small mark in his neck as you got your bearings back. You sat up properly and maintained eye contact with his as you let your hand trail down his chest. Your hand found the edges of his shirt.

Hunter lifted his arms up and let you pull the item of clothing over his head. He then reached for your top layer and delicately pulled it off you.

That process continued until you were both out of your clothes and lying on the double bed. It certainly made a change to the bunk on the Marauder, there was room to move without feeling constricted and it was far more comfortable too.

You stopped kissing him for a moment and instead focused your ministrations on the skin of neck, your teeth scraping slightly against his skin, whilst you reached beside you and brought the scarf into view. You looked down at Hunter who- amidst the rough breaths that left his throat- nodded his consent. You moved off his lap and sat back on your heels and motioned for him to sit up.

Hunter did as you requested, and he felt you bring his wrists behind his back, and he felt the soft fabric against his skin. He tested the knot and found it to be secure enough that he had no chance of getting out unaided, but it was not uncomfortable.

You pushed him back down and straddled his lap again. “Okay?” You asked as you stroked a finger down his tattooed cheek. “You just tell me when to stop.”

Hunter was enraptured by the sight of you above him and so could only manage to nod once more.

You smiled lovingly down at him before you kissed him once more, this time more teasing, leaving him chasing your lips as you parted from him too soon.

You kissed your way down his chest, paying attention to every nick and scar that was on his skin. You loved every part of him every time.

You delighted in every gruff and depraved moan that left his lips. How you loved it when he got the chance to switch off like this.

And you could take your time.

As your mouth wrapped around him, his fingers had a deathlike grip on the sheets since that was the only thing he could do with his hands behind his back like this.

Fuck, you were good. You knew just what to do to drive him crazy. You took him so well every time. The slight hum of pleasure told him he’d voiced that last thought outload. His head pressed even further into the pillows.

The sounds he was making were so divine, you just couldn’t help yourself.

Upon hearing the small moan from you, he risked glancing down and regretted it immediately. Your hand was between your legs and a noise that was scarcely recognisable- it sounded like a wrecked whimper- left his mouth.

You paused what you were doing upon hearing him. You bit your lip as you saw the ruined expression on his face. You removed your hand and held your fingers up to his mouth but when he lifted his head, you drew them away at the last second and put them in your mouth and groaned alluringly. You didn’t give him long to cope with that before you went back to him.

He released a pained breath at the sight. He needed to touch you. To taste you. To feel you. It had been too long, and he wasn’t about to let it be over like this. “St- stop.” He managed to get out.

You did as he requested and angled your eyes up to him.

Hunter very nearly lost it at the sight of you tidying up your mouth and the playful smirk that graced your face. “Untie me.” He said as his chest heaved.

You crawled your way back up and kept your eyes focused on him. You gave him enough room to get vertical enough for you to reach behind him and undo the knot.

He rolled so that you were beneath him now and he kissed you passionately whilst his hand slid down your body.

Your eyes fluttered closed and your hips bucked into his touch and a quiet groan fell from your lips as his fingers curled and pleasure shot through your core.

He noticed you were holding back. It was something you were both used to. Fear of being suddenly interrupted or accidentally overheard was a constant in moments like this but that wasn’t the case here. Here, you could let go. And fuck did he want you to let go. “I want to hear you.” He uttered against your lips as he started to move down your body, leaving bruises on your neck as he did so. “Let me hear you, sweetheart.” He all but begged as he sped his fingers up.

That was all the permission you needed. An unrestricted moan left your lips as your body tingled and you let the waves of pleasure wash through your body.

Hunter worked you through it and once you had come back down, he left a path of kisses down your body, biting and sucking as he went, to do what he’d been wanting to since the possibility of being alone had become an option. He kept a steady grip of your hips as they jolted under his touch.

He didn’t need to rush this. He would get to take you apart in the way he always dreamed of. He could take his time. Learn knew things about your body he hadn’t had the pleasure of discovering yet, life on the road with missions every other day made these occasions a far more hurried event than either of you would’ve like. But here, he didn’t have that worry and if he wasn’t addicted to you before, he most definitely was now. The noises you were making were beautiful and it had been too long since he’d had you like this, and he was reminded of how much he missed it. He moaned appreciatively at the feeling of your hands tangling in his hair as he took what he wanted from you.

Your limbs felt limp and heavy, and your breathing was laboured but you didn’t want to be done yet. “Hunter, I need you.”

“One more. Give me one more.” He breathed against you before he continued with what he’d previously been doing.

“I can’t. Just-”

“Yes, you can, sweetheart.” He urged as he focused on the spot that he knew would get you there again.

A hoarse cry left your throat as he sent you over the edge once more. You were pretty sure there were stars dancing across the ceiling right now.

Hunter let you catch your breath and just revelled in the sight of your dishevelled state. His lips traced your stomach as he worked his way back up to you.

You clawed at his back to bring him down closer to you. Fuck, he was gorgeous. His eyes were dark, and his bandana was slightly askew. “I need you.” You whispered again as you cradled the side of his jaw.

He was now all too happy to oblige.

Your hands tightly intertwined- with the backs of yours being pushed into the pillow by your head- as he moved into you, both of your breaths hitching at the sensation.

Every time you were reminded of how perfectly you fit together both here and out there. Everything just felt so right.

Hunter paused for a moment, and he lifted a hand to brush a small strand also to give himself a chance to breath.

You knew he’d held back long enough. You pressed your lips into his palm before you placed a featherlight kiss to his lips. “Come with me.” You murmured against his mouth.

Hunter nodded and started to move again, and he knew he wasn’t going to last much longer and judging by the way he could feel you tightening around him, you weren’t either.

It wasn’t long before a broken cry left your mouth, and it was the sight of you catching the necklace you’d gifted him in his teeth that finished him. He released a gutteral groan as he collapsed on top of you and breathed a relaxed sigh as you weaved your fingers through his hair. “I love you.” He uttered quietly into your neck. “Always.”

“I love you too.” You replied tenderly. “Always.”

He reluctantly pulled out and laid down next to you and wrapped his arm around you and pulled you close. There was still time before you needed to go to Shep’s so the peace and quiet could be enjoyed a little while longer.

After a few minutes of you both just taking the time to stay close to each other and regroup, you huffed out a short breath at the realisation there was still the dinner to attend to.

“What’s wrong?”

“I can barely feel my legs lying here. How am I supposed to get up and shower and then walk back up some of that hill?”

Hunter let out a low chuckle. “Whilst I take that as a compliment, I’m sure your Jedi training had you overcoming worst challenges that this.”

You heaved a sigh and turned on your back and sent an affectionate glare in his direction. “Yes, but that doesn’t stop things from feeling so far away right now.”

Hunter merely hummed and pressed a quick kiss to your lips before moving down your body.

You propped yourself up on your elbows. “What are you doing?”

“Cleaning up.” He crooned as he settled between your thighs once more.

Your head fell back against the pillows. “You heard me- heard me say shower, right?” You protested as he left tender nips to the inside of your thighs.

“You said that you can’t move to go shower.” He countered as he slowly moved his lips towards the apex of your thighs. “I’m solving half the problem.”

“This- this won’t help me stand up.” You attempted to sound strong, but you were not about to stop him.

“I know. I’m solving the other half of the problem first.”

--

Now properly freshened up and decent once again, you and Hunter arrived at Shep’s home to see the others happily socialising and enjoying their time.

“Hey, lovebirds!” Phee greeted with a knowing grin as you both walked in.

You simply smiled and turned your attention to Shep instead. “The place is great, Shep, thank you. Do you need any help?” You asked as he emerged from his house.

“No, we’re almost ready. Just make yourselves at home!”

You and Hunter joined the others in taking in the breath-taking view, but that sight was interrupted by the chittering of a monkey-like creature that had scaled down one of the poles.

One jumped on your shoulder before more joined and a small group of them gathered by the table.

Omega knelt down to get a closer look at them.

“They’re called moon-yos.” Lyana explained. “The elders say they’ve lived here since before Pabu was inhabited.” She welcomed one of them onto her back.

Omega chuckled happily as that same one moved from Lyana onto her shoulder.

You watched on fondly. Everything here was so carefree and easy. You couldn’t remember the last time she’d really been allowed to be a kid like this.

“I have not heard her laugh like that in some time.” Tech observed.

As soon as he’d said that you started to think about how long it had been and the very fact you couldn’t remember told it had been far too long. As Omega and Lyana followed the moon-yos over to the wall by the gate, you and Hunter approached Shep as he brought a dish out for the table.

“Phee said the villagers here are refugees.” Hunter said.

“Many, yes.” Shep replied. “Pabu has been a safe haven for those forced to flee their homes during the war and others after.”

“And you’re not worried the Empire will show up?” You asked.

“Why would they? We’re a remote island with limited resources. But if they do, we’ll manage.”

You and Hunter both glanced over to where Omega was playing with one of the moon-yos.

Shep noticed this and placed a hand on both of your shoulders. “Some come to Pabu looking for a clean slate. A chance to start over. As a parent, you couldn’t ask for a better place to raise a child.”

You were pretty sure you didn’t do a great job at concealing the taken aback expression on your face. You had clocked Hunter’s paternal instinct right from when he’d first met Omega, but hearing Shep put you in that same category with him was something that had never really occurred to you.

Shep gave you both a supportive smile before he made his way back inside.

Before either of you could speak, Omega came over.

“(Y/N)! Can you come do that thing you do with the moon-yos?” Omega grabbed your hand and started to drag you over to the troupe of creatures.

“If you can think of a believable reason why they’re suddenly even friendlier than usual.” You said with a raise of your eyebrows.

“You’re gifted at bonding with animals.” She replied simply. “Please?”

“Okay, okay.” You said with a laugh, and you let her pull you over. You took notice of the fact that you were not worried about pretences here, even a reason as broad as the one Omega was providing felt secure enough.

Hunter watched you go and felt Phee approach his side.

“Something to think about, isn’t it?”

“You’re suggesting we all stay on Pabu permanently?”

They both followed the sounds of laughter to see you now with two moon-yos on your shoulders and the others were crawling all over Lyana and Omega.

“Omega seems to like it here and this is the most relaxed I’ve seen your girl. A little stability might do you all some good.”

You half turned and caught Hunter’s gaze. You left the girls to it and walked over to him.

“You made some friends.” Phee said with a nod to the animals on your back.

“Wasn’t that hard.” You said with a grin as you internally told on of them to go onto Hunter’s shoulder. You chuckled at the sight.

Hunter let the creature crawl over him for a few seconds before he passed it back to you. “Can I talk to you for a second?”

You nodded before you scratched each on the side of their faces. Okay, go back to the kids. You let them jump down and they ran back over to Lyana and Omega.

The two of you went back over to the wall where you wouldn’t be overheard by the others.

You leaned your head against Hunter’s shoulder and breathed in the clean sea air and admired the stunning view over the wall. Pabu was growing on you rather rapidly.

“Can we have this?” Hunter said quietly to you. He wasn’t sure how he felt about being here. He wasn’t used to feeling so calm, so at peace. He kept waiting for the other shoe to drop. There were people out there who were continuing the fight like Echo and Rex. Was feeling this way allowed? Was having a place to leave the chaos of the galaxy behind on the cards for him? For all of you?

You lifted your head to face him. You understood what he meant. Feeling this content was a foreign concept but it didn’t need to be. “You have been looking after this family for a long time. You’ve done so much for the galaxy already and our circumstances have changed ever since Omega became a part of our lives. I think the chance to create something, to have a place to come back to that is safe and offers the chance to settle down is perfectly okay.”

Hunter got ready to reply but was interrupted by Shep’s voice.

“Food’s ready!” Shep announced as he brought the final dish out.

You and Hunter turned to see the others moving to the table and you bit back the laugh that threatened to appear at the fact that Wrecker seemed to be the most excited out of everyone. We can talk more about this later, for now, let’s just enjoy tonight. You took his hand and you both made your way to the table.

--

Phee had not been exaggerating about Shep’s dining experience. The drinks continued to flow, and you had eaten so much food you could barely sit up straight which is why you were grateful for the man next to you who let you slouch against him whilst he kept an innocent hand on your thigh.

“You have your own boat?” Omega asked excitedly.

“Uh-huh. You wanna take it out and watch the sunset?” Lyana offered.

“Really?” Omega gasped.

“That sounds like a great idea, doesn’t it?” Phee said with a look at you and Hunter.

“Can I go?” Omega asked Hunter eagerly.

Hunter glanced down at you to see you nod before he looked back to Omega. “Have fun.” He granted his permission sincerely and was happy to see her go somewhere looking so thrilled.

Oh, my goodness, you smiled.

“I smile all the time.” He protested down at you.

“No, you smile with your mouth. It rarely reaches your eyes because there’s too much worry behind them. That, was a proper smile.” You said with a small kiss to the corner of his mouth. A groan from beside you got your attention and you saw Wrecker rubbing his stomach. “What’s with you?”

“I’m full. I am never full.”

“Feels good right.” You said with an understanding nod as you were now able to sit back up.

“I will note the date and time to commemorate such a momentous occasion.” Tech added as he brought out his datapad.

You huffed out a laugh at Tech’s antics and at the look on Wrecker’s face as he got distracted by a platter that Shep had just brought out.

“Hope you saved room for dessert.” Shep said as he lifted the lid to unveil a platter of delicious looking fruit.

“I love this place!” Wrecker yelled happily.

--

“It’s almost time.” Phee said.

“For what?” Tech asked without turning his sight away from the screen in front of him.

“See for yourself.” Phee stood and beckoned for him to follow her over to the wall.

Tech looked over the wall but saw nothing different. “I am not seeing anything.”

Phee rested a hand on his arm. “Just wait. It’ll be worth it.”

Tech did as she said and watched as the sun went down and all the lights surrounding the island lit up the homes all at once.

“Pretty spectacular, right?” Phee said.

Tech found himself not wholly understanding the significance, but he also didn’t want to anger or disappoint her in his reaction either. “I suppose that is one way to quantify it.”

“You’re scheming.” Hunter whispered into your temple as he saw the way you were studying the pair.

You made no move to deny it. “What if I just…” You trailed off and mimed using the Force to make Phee fall into him.

“No.”

“But-”

“No.” Hunter repeated again with a loving kiss to the crown of your head.

“Do you remember what they did to us? We were locked in a storage closest for 3 hours one time!”

“Yes, but Tech is Tech. He’ll get there on his own… eventually.”

“What are you two talking about?” Wrecker asked as he finished the last piece of fruit.

You just pointed over to Tech and Phee.

“Ooohhh right. Yeah, we won’t be much help. He’s just gotta use that brain of his to figure it out.”

“Men are hopeless.” You muttered with a sigh before you stood up and wandered over to where you animal friends were.

--

You weren’t there for very long before you started to sense their unease but to your eyes nothing was wrong. You let them run off but before you could raise any sort of alarm, you noticed the look on Hunter’s face as he braced his hands against the wall. “What’s wrong?” You asked as you jogged over to where he, Phee and Tech were now standing.

“Something’s coming. We need to-” He didn’t get to finish his thought for an aggressive rumble ran underneath the island, leaving you all unsteady on your feet.  Luckily, it didn’t last long but he was sure that wouldn’t be the last one. He reached for his comm. “Omega, come in. Are you two okay?”

“We’re fine. We’re headed back to shore now.” Came her reply.

“Everyone alright?” Shep shouted down to the rest of the island.

“Well, that was different.” Wrecker commented as he got to his feet.

“Uh, a small tremor. It’s nothing to worry about. Part of island life.” Shep explained.

“I don’t think it’s over yet.” Hunter warned and sure enough another, more violent tremor occurred, leaving cracks in some of the buildings. “That was not a small tremor.”

 “No, it was not.” Shep said fretfully.

Tech analysed his datapad. “Hunter, I believe this island is at risk for a significant sea surge.”

“How much risk?” He asked.

“Highly probable to imminent.”

“We haven’t had a sea surge in more than three decades. If we were at risk, the early warning system would’ve activated. And-” Shep was cut off by the blaring of a siren.

“And I take it that’s the system?” You asked with a grimace.

Tech took the macrobinoculars that Shep passed him. “The water has already begun receding.” Tech stated as he stared through the lenses. “We must evacuate all of Lower Pabu.”

You caught Hunter’s arm in a panic. “Hunter, Lyana and Omega-”

“I know. I’ll grab our ship and get them. You five, move everyone in town to higher ground.” Hunter ordered.

You nodded before you all parted and got to work.

--

It was mayhem.

Everyone was screaming and stampeding to get to higher ground which meant they were paying little attention to the safety of those around them.

“Knock on every door. Check every home.” Shep told the four of you before you split up.

--

Tech and Phee had ensured their area was clear and they were now making for the higher ground, but the crowds were overwhelming, it wasn’t going to work this way.

“There are too many trying to get through at once. They will not make it before the surge hits. We must use additional means to get them over the wall.” Tech said hurriedly.

“We can deploy the rescue ladders.” Phee replied.

“Where?”

“They line the top of each wall.” She pointed up to where she was talking about, and they both ran to get closer to the side of the wall.

Tech aimed his grappling hook and once he felt it catch, he signalled to Phee to come closer to him. “Hang on!” He took a secure hold of her waist and scaled the wall.

“You take those ladders. I’ll handle these.” Phee directed.

Tech tried to release the ladders, but they wouldn’t budge. “The mechanisms are rusted through. We will need to manually unfurl them.”

Phee was able to use her blade to get her ladder free. “This way!” She called down to the people below.

Tech was also able to launch his and he and Phee kept an eye on them as they climbed to safety.

--

The siren continued to bellow around the island, a daunting reminder of how little time was left. You rounded the corner to see Mr. Eenta just sitting outside his house. “Wrecker, Shep! Over here!” You ran over to the old man. You kneeled next to his chair and spoke as calmly as you could manage. “Hey, Mr. Eenta, remember me?”

“Hmm? Oh yes, you’re the lovely lady who Shep brought over. Can I get you something?”

“Maybe later, but we gotta get out of here first.” You stepped aside to let Wrecker pick him up.

“Huh? Why? What’s going on?”

“Everything will be fine, Mr. Eenta.” Shep reassured him as the four of you set off for the high ground.

--

Your pace faltered behind Shep and Wrecker as you were sure the house you just passed had someone crying in it. You worked your way back and as you peered through the window; you caught side of a young Rodian child, she had to be not much older than six, frozen to the spot in the corner of the room and it looked like some kind of dresser or shelf had fallen in front of the door. You looked ahead to see that the other three were too far ahead to call back and they had Mr. Eenta so you needed them to be safe. The siren sounded again but you couldn’t move. You had time… you had to have time. “Hold on, I’m going to get you out of there.” You called through the window before you made your way to the door.

You tried kicking it down and barging into it, but it would not budge. Fuck it. You called on the Force and you were able to successfully push the door open.

You stepped over the shelf and other loose belongings and carefully made your way over to her. You took a knee in front of her. You knew if you appeared nervous or panicked then you weren’t going to get anywhere. “Hi there, little one. My name is (Y/N), do you have someone looking after you?”

She gave you nothing. She just stood there shaking as the siren continued to blare.

“Okay, it’s okay.” You cleared your throat and tried again. “Do you have a father? A mother?” You were sure you saw her head perk up slightly at that word.

“Mother?” You double checked and saw her nod again. “Okay, that’s good.” You reached your hand out to her. “How about we go find her? I can help you. Does that sound alright?”

You breathed deeply as she cautiously took your hand. “There we go. Let’s get outta here, alright?” You helped her over the debris and once you cleared the house, you picked her up and started running.

--

You could hear the wave now. You reached the bottom of the ladder and altered her position, so she was now on your back. “Hold on.” You scaled the ladder quickly and handed her over to someone waiting at the top, the sound of the wave getting closer by the second and you could feel the cold spray nipping at your heels. You were halfway over the wall when you felt part of the wave crash into your back, toppling you over the rest of the way.

You laid on the grounded, winded, before you felt a light tapping on your shoulder. You opened your eyes to see the kid staring worriedly at you.

“I’m good.” You panted as she peered at you. You straightened up and got some more air into your lungs and took her hand once more. “Let’s go fine your mother.”

--

You squeezed the young girl’s hand. “Hey kid, I think we’ve found her.” You jutted your head over in the direction of the distressed female Rodian anxiously scanning the crowds of people. Your suspicions were proved correct by the delighted squeal the child emitted at the sight. “On you go.” You nudged her gently in front of you and kept a careful eye on her as she ran up to her mother.  When you saw her get picked up and held tightly, you knew your job here was done. As the young girl pointed at you, you waved goodbye, but you saw that her mother was walking over to you, so you stayed where you were.

“I went out for a few seconds but then the tremors happened, and I got caught up in the crowd- I tried to work my way back but- but there were too many people, and I couldn’t! I wasn’t sure- oh I thought I’d never see her again!” She cried tearfully as she buried her face into her daughter’s neck as she held her close.

You rested a hand on her shoulder. “It’s okay. You’re both safe now. That’s all that matters.”

“Thank you, thank you so much.”

You nodded your head in acknowledgement before you got to work on finding your own family.

--

“Wrecker, where’s (Y/N)?” Hunter asked urgently as he noticed everyone was there but you.

Wrecker looked around him. “She was right behind us when Shep and I knew everything was all clear.”

“She was with you as you got to safety?”

“Well- um- I can’t exactly remember.” Wrecker stammered.

“She probably just got caught up in the crowd.” Shep offered as he placed Lyana back down.

“Yeah, she’s going to be fine.” Phee added.

Their words didn’t mean much. He needed to know that you were fine. “We need to-”

“Turn around and breathe.”

A deep sigh of relief left his lungs as he heard your voice. “You’re okay?” Hunter asked as he turned to face you.

“Yeah, I’m okay. Are you all okay?” You addressed the wider group who all nodded and parted to give you some privacy.

“Where were you?” Hunter asked.

“You’re not the only one who can save a kid every now and then.” You said brightly as you hugged Omega before she went off to join the others.

“You’re wet.” Hunter noticed as he embraced you.

“Gee, save that for later, sir.” You kidded.

“You know that’s not what I meant.”

“The wave caught some of my back, but I’m fine.” You explained.

Hunter pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation. “Exactly how close did you come to getting smashed off the walls of Pabu?”

“Best not think about it.” You said airily before you regrouped with the others.

--

The sunrise did little to lighten the spirits of Pabu’s civilians. They’d lost their homes, the best you could do was offer your sympathies and supplies to people.

“I’m sorry, Shep.” You said kindly as you came to stand next to him and Hunter as they both stared at the destruction below.

“We got everyone out in time. That’s what’s important.” Shep responded.

“Based on my estimations, it will take several rotations to rebuild the damage sustained in Lower Pabu.” Tech revealed as he and Phee joined the three of you.

“Yes.” Shep said with a dejected sigh. “Property was destroyed but my people are resilient. We’ll band together and rebuild.”

“I was thinking.” Hunter began hesitantly. “We could stay and help out with things.”

“I had the same idea.” Tech concurred.

“Did you now?” Phee teased.

You threaded an arm around Hunter’s waist and subtly nudged him as you saw the smile Tech offered Phee at her words. He merely squeezed your side in acknowledgement.

“That is, if you don’t mind us sticking around for a while.” You added as you looked to Shep.

Shep chuckled softly. “You would be most welcome.”

The group of you set back towards the crowds of people and, for once in your life, you had a good feeling about this.

Next Chapter>

Tagging: @noeasyisnoisy, @fuckoffthanos, @tpwkcalli, @graciexmarvel, @arctrooper69, @nightmonkeysstuff, @brujaporfavor, @flyingkangaroo, @sunkissedclones, @ladytano420, @keep-calm-and-drink-caf, @yyourmotherr, @xxeiraxx, @dragonrider9905, @starwarsnerd111, @skellymom

[karume-selfshipper]

Tides that Bind: Aftermath (part 1)

Have the first of three pieces to wrap up Tides that Bind (main Selatoh AU/ Selatoh x Tottika [feat. Ledo]) most under the cut.

Releasing a deep sigh, Selatoh walked along the edge of the wedding reception. After everything that happened, all she could do was hope. Her brief time spent as a dragon hadn’t changed anything, not for this. Selatoh knew she couldn’t ignore how she’d acted toward her new sister-in-law. 

The things she still needed to say…

And yet Selatoh hesitated in her approach. Asking for a moment alone with Yona would always raise red flags with Sidon.

“Ah! Selatoh!” Sidon grinned widely, “I am grateful you choose to stick around for the reception. Lady Yona and I both-!”

“It's Yona I’d like to speak with Sidon.” Selatoh rubbed her arm, “Only for a moment, if you’d be okay with that?”

Yona’s eyes narrowed in suspicion, “Of course Selatoh. Lead the way.”

Sidon wanted to follow, to stop whatever might happen, but was also hopeful and optimistic about the outcome. Yes, he knew Selatoh and Yona could barely say two words without being antagonistic toward one another. Though for Selatoh to be the one to approach, and so calmly… and for Yona to agree to the moment alone. Sidon was in no position to interfere.

Keeping her eyes trained on her sister-in-law, Yona could only scowl. Even as Selatoh led her to a nice area, one with a nice view of the sky. Stars and sky islands clearly visible in the night sky behind her, yet didn’t soften Yona’s demeanor in the slightest.

“I wanted to apologize.” Selatoh started, “Everything happened so fast, but that doesn’t excuse what I did. It wasn’t fair to you, or to Sidon…”

Yona might have been expecting Selatoh to be blunt, this wasn’t the way she thought it would manifest. Though this wasn’t the worst way to start this conversation…

Yet it was followed by an oppressive silence. Nothing about the atmosphere felt expectant, but there was a distinct buzzing inside. Not entirely ready to forgive Selatoh, Yona only stood there staring as the former attempted to gather her thoughts.

But Selatoh turned away, “I don’t know how to really say it… I can’t excuse my behavior, even if I can explain it. I am well aware of all that, just as I know you didn’t choose to be here given that you and Sidon were arranged. And I certainly haven’t been supportive or helpful in the slightest due to my emotions.”

The soft plap of Yona’s footfalls drew her next to Selatoh, still nothing coming to Yona’s mind. Though the way Selatoh was looking out over the river did ease Yona a little; there was a serious and genuinely apologetic air to her demeanor. One that was nicely calm and inviting.

“But now that I’ve had a chance to calm down, as the chaos around the Domain calmed as well,” Selatoh sighed, glancing slightly over at Yona, “I can honestly say that I am glad you’ve stayed.”

“Huh!?” Yona stepped back slightly, “What changed?”

“I realized how much you’ve been helping Sidon, regardless how I might have seen it at the time. Now that I’ve been able to take a  few steps back… I can see how happy you actually make him. And I would rather see him happy, especially after everything we’ve been through.”

“So you’re taking back the things you’ve said?” Yona tilted her head, “Apologizing in such a manner…”

“No, of course not.” Selatoh eased up from the railing, “I cannot take back what I said, but I no longer stand by it either. I’m glad you are here. I’m relieved to see Sidon happy after everything. But we both know the past cannot change, the things I’ve said were unpleasant and I renounce them… but we can’t pretend as if they’ve never happened either.”

“S-”

“I’m not asking you to forgive me right away Yona.” Selatoh locked eyes with the smaller woman, “I’m simply explaining that the rocky path I choose to start out on is not the one I wish to continue on. That I will do what I can to support you and our Domain.”

Unable to contain herself, Yona practically squeezed Selatoh, “Of course dear Sister! The two of us will begin a new chapter together, and I will do my best to support you as well.”

Sidon rushed over, worried that Selatoh would snap at Yona, that her returning the tight hug was an attempt to hurt the smaller woman. Stopping a few feet away in pure confusion as Selatoh grinned widely in unison with Yona.

[mattmurdocksscars]

Back From The Dead Ch. 6

It’s finally here! Chapter 6 is up and live! I really hope yall enjoy this chapter. It’s around 2200 words.

This is officially explicit!! 18+ only!

Warnings: Pregnant Reader, pregnancy related talk, little bit of angst, oral (fem!receiving), little bit of overstimulation. 

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Pregnant!Reader

Time passes strangely after finding out what you’re having. You had reached the halfway point of your pregnancy but the time following that seemed to run simultaneously fast and slow. You’re 25 weeks now and it feels like no time has passed at all. You took your glucose test at 24 weeks and passed it with flying colors, something you were incredibly thankful for. Matt had been confident you would pass it and you were glad he was right.

Speaking of Matt… now that the two of you were together, neither of you even tried to pretend you didn’t want to spend every moment you could together. Matt often met you after work and walked you either to your apartment or his for the evening. You two would share dinner and just spend time together. It was perfect. And even on the nights where one of you was too busy, Matt would at least stop by on his way out to patrol the city. Something you were very grateful for. It gave you a chance to look him over and make sure he was okay before he headed out into the streets.

You would never forget the look on his face when you first felt the baby move. He’d stopped by on his way out to patrol and you were sitting on your couch, just watching TV. You’d invited him in and at first, he had refused saying he needed to head right out. You were getting up to at least sneak a kiss before he left, when it felt like something fluttered in your stomach. You had immediately gasped, and Matt was across from you faster than you could track.

“What? What is it? Are you okay? Is the baby okay?” His panic was palpable, and he held his hands out as if to catch you if you fell. The sensation happened again and you suddenly grinned, realizing what was happening.

“Yes, Matt, I’m okay. Just… Just give me your hand.” Matt hesitated before slowly giving you his hand. You had pressed it against your lower abdomen and waited. His entire face had lit up in awe and wonder when the baby moved.

“Is that…?” He whispered, sightless eyes darting around. You smiled softly and nodded.

“Yeah, Matt. That’s our boy moving around.” Matt had spent over an hour at your place, the two of you sitting side by side on the couch with Matt’s hand resting over your stomach. It was a precious moment, one you held close to your heart. It brought you comfort on the harder nights.

Like tonight. You had had a rough day and Matt wasn’t able to come by like usual. He was busy both as a lawyer and as Daredevil. You should have gone to sleep hours ago, but you couldn’t. You didn’t even realize how late it was. Instead, you stood in your kitchen catching up on the dishes. You sang along softly to the radio you had playing and that’s how Matt found you. He’d been heading home from patrol when he’d passed your apartment and realized you were still awake. He quietly pushed up the window and slid into your living room. Cocking his head, he took in the song you were singing and the hitch in your voice and realized you were having a rough night.

“No grave can hold my body down, I'll crawl home to her” Your voice cracked at the end and that’s when Matt decided to make his presence known.

“Oh, sweetheart…” Matt said softly. You startled at his presence, turning to face him, and you heard his soft apology as he approached you.

“I’m sorry, angel. I’m so sorry for what I put you through.” Matt breathed out, reaching for you. You let him pull you in, let him lean forward and press his forehead to yours. Only then did you let yourself cry, safe in his embrace. Matt held you the whole time, rocking you back and forth gently. He apologized the entire time. But this time, that wasn’t what you wanted.

“I feel like if we keep hashing this out over and over, we’re never going to move past it. You don’t have to keep apologizing to me.” You whispered. Matt froze against you before cupping your face in his hands.

“Sweetheart, I will apologize every single day if that’s what it takes. Because you deserve to know how sorry I am. You deserve to know that I know how much I messed up. I’d do anything to take back what I did but I can’t, so apologies are what I’ve got.” You sighed, hearing the fervent way Matt spoke and knowing that he was completely serious about apologizing every day.

“Matt, I don’t want that. I just want you. I want to just be with you without this constantly hanging over our heads. I’m going to have some bad days, and unfortunately that’s probably going to get worse as my hormones get worse.” Both of you giggled at that. “But I just want this. With you. I want to be two people who love each other. I don’t want our kid to grow up thinking we don’t or thinking that you’ve done something so terrible that I’ve never forgiven you for it.”

Matt’s breath stutters and you realize that’s the first time you’ve ever said to him that you’ve forgiven him. His sightless eyes dart around, his grip on your face going slack. You know what he needs to hear.

“You’re forgiven, Matt. I forgive you and I love you.” You whisper. Matt drops to his knees, wraps his arms around your waist, and buries his head against your stomach. He shudders, just once, tension draining from his body in an instant.

“Thank you.” It’s muffled against your stomach but there’s no mistaking the words or the emotion behind them. You run your fingers through his hair and do your best to help calm him down. For several minutes, it’s quiet until you try to break the tension with a joke.

“You know… I’ve always liked the way you look on your knees.” You know Matt can hear your smirk in your voice and he chuckles against you before tilting his head back.

“No surprise there. I’m sure it brings back all sorts of memories.” Matt freezes, afraid he’s taken it too far. But instead of it bothering you, it sends a spark of heat directly to your core. He’s one hundred percent right, it brings back all sorts of memories. The two of you haven’t been intimate since getting back together but that doesn’t mean you haven’t thought about it.

Matt takes a deep breath in and groans and you know he’s smelling your arousal.

“Matt…”

“You know, there are other ways I can show how sorry I am.” He purrs, his voice dropping into that sinful tone you know so well. The one that makes your heart race in your chest and heat spread like lightning under your skin. He nuzzles against your abdomen again, pressing a kiss to the swell of your stomach.

“Are you sure? I don’t want you to feel like you have to…” You say quietly, trying to rein in the thoughts now racing through your head. Memories of all the times Matt had been in this exact position were battling for your attention and by the way Matt breathed in and groaned again, you were obviously losing.

“I’d never push you into anything you don’t want, sweetheart, but I can smell how much you want this. I want this too. Let me show you how much I missed you and how sorry I am.”

“Okay, Matt. If you’re sure.” At your approval, Matt starts pulling at your sleep pants, tugging them down and off your legs. You pull your shirt off for him when he pushes it up to nuzzle at your slightly swollen abdomen. He presses an achingly soft kiss there before he begins kissing down to your underwear. Once he reaches them, he grabs them with his teeth and playfully snaps them. You yelp then laugh with him.

“Go sit on the couch, sweetheart.” Matt orders softly. Though his voice is quiet, there’s no mistaking the command in his tone so you follow his instructions. Matt gets up and disappears down your hall before coming back with a towel. He places it under you and then settles himself on his knees again. Carefully, he pulls your underwear down and off, tucking them in his back pocket. Then he eases first one leg, then the other, over his shoulders.

And just like that, he has you exactly where he wants you.

“I’m going to make you feel so good, sweetheart. You’re gonna have to tell me when to stop, okay? Cause I’m not going to until you do.” With that as a warning, Matt dives in. You moan, long and loud, at the first swipe of his tongue against your cunt. It had been so long since someone had touched you and it was almost embarrassing how quickly your body reacted.

“Fuck, Matt, please…” Matt sighs softly and leans back in, kitten licking at your clit.

“I missed hearing you beg. Missed hearing you moan and sigh and cry my name. I promise I’ll never leave you again, sweetheart. Never.” Matt buries his head back between your thighs and you cry out as he starts his assault with renewed vigor. It’s like now that he’s made his promise, he needs to prove it to you by giving you an orgasm as quickly as possible. He works smoothly, using every trick he has to push you higher and higher until you come apart with a cry of his name. He drinks down everything you give and just keeps going even after you’ve finished.

“Matt…” You breathe out.

“Told you. You’re gonna have to tell me when to stop.” You gasp as he pulls your clit into his mouth and sucks. You writhe on the couch but Matt has an iron grip on you so you can’t get away from him. Your second orgasm approaches even faster and harder than the second and this time Matt groans with you when you cum.

Time grows fuzzy then. You’re certain it’s been hours since Matt started and yet you feel like no time has passed at all. You’re on your fifth? Maybe sixth orgasm. All you know is Matt has pulled you apart and you’re nothing but putty in his hands.

“Matt… can’t… please…”

“One more, sweetheart. You can give me one more, can’t you?” Matt pulls away from your pussy but doesn’t go far. He presses soft kisses to your right thigh, scraping his teeth over a particularly sensitive spot.

“I-I don’t know, Matt. It’s too much.” Tears of overstimulation well and Matt immediately pulls back.

“Shh, okay, sweetheart. We’re done. I’ve got you.” Matt very carefully picked you up and carried you to your bedroom. “Do you want a bath? Do you want to just get cleaned up? What do you need, sweetheart?”

His earnestness brings a smile to your face, and you bury your head in his neck.

“Can we take a bath? I want you to hold me…” Matt smiled softly and nodded, helping you into the bathroom. He ran the water and once it was warm enough, he got in and helped you in. He let the tub fill around you two and turned it off once the water was high enough. Then he just sat there and held you close, running his fingers over your skin.

“Sorry if I took it too far…” Matt whispered. You could hear the concern in his voice, and you forced yourself to turn enough to press a kiss to his jaw.

“You didn’t. You stopped when I asked. You know that’s all that matters to me.” You felt some of the tension drain for him and he readjusted you so your forehead was pressed against his neck and you were comfortably cradled in the strength of his body. Nothing would ever harm you as long as you were in Matt’s arms, of that you were certain. You were just drifting off, sated and happy, when you thought of something.

“What ‘bout you?” You slurred, glutted on the warmth of the water, the gentle drag of Matt’s fingers, and the orgasms he’d pulled from you. He chuckled, the action vibrating through you and rocking you gently.

“Don’t worry about me. I just wanted to take care of you. And I did.”

“Will you stay tonight?”

“Do you want me to?” You were almost gone but you could hear the vulnerability in his voice.

“Yes. Want you to stay forever.” You admitted, your exhaustion allowing you to be brutally honest. Matt froze underneath you before slowly relaxing.

“Let’s start with tonight and go from there. Okay, sweetheart?”

“’Kay. Love you.”

“I love you too.”

Moments later, you were out and in a deep sleep. You missed the way Matt cradled you gently, one hand resting on your belly. You missed the silent tears that slipped into your hair. You missed the absolute reverence Matt handled you with as he got you ready for bed.

You wanted him forever? You would have him forever.

[oxenfreeao3]

The following is excerpted from Saltwater on AO3

“Vi…” Ekko hesitated, “where were you?"

Her gut clenched. Bile churned. She’d wondered when he was going to ask. Had kinda hoped he just…wouldn’t.

But he deserved to know.

She took a breath.

"Stillwater."

The word shuddered out of her.

"Stillwater?" Ekko flinched. A little too loud. A little too fast. Not the answer he expected, then. He shook his head. “Nah. Since when? Not the whole time."

"Yeah," she swallowed.

"Since…?"

Vi lowered her head between her shoulders. Tension pestered a muscle in her neck. When it spasmed, she rounded her back to make it let go. 

Boards creaked beside her as Ekko shifted his weight.

"But…that…it doesn't make sense. We've had people in and out of there. No one saw—you're hard to miss. Someone would've told me.”

Vi let out another breath. Her leg began to rattle with nerves. 

Ekko touched the back of his hand to her arm.

"I looked,” he said, “After—I looked for you. If I'd known—"

She cut him off. Had too. 

"You couldn't've known, Little Man. No one could've." She ground a thumb into her palm, twisting. Her mouth went sour. "They, um…they threw me in with the Lifers."

"...what?"

She couldn’t look at him. 

"Yeah,” she said quickly, “So, don't beat yourself up. 'Kay?"

Eyes burning, she pretended to scratch her chin on her shoulder. 

Ekko stopped to take a few steadying breaths of his own. Vi could hear him moving. His hand was on his neck again, rubbing. She knew the sound by now. 

He huffed and let his arm drop. 

"How'd you get out? " he asked.

There. Relief. Subject change. This, she could do. Clearing her throat, Vi pulled her gaze back from… wherever it had gone and leaned forward to scan the grounds below. Spotting a lithe figure in the distance, she tipped her chin.

"Told you,” she said, “Her."

Ekko followed her gaze. His eyes caught on Caitlyn’s outline as she walked across the lawn.

"Huh. Yeah, so what's up with that, exactly?"

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know. You tell me.” He rearranged his limbs. “You're saying she brought you back."

"Yeah."

"Okay. Why?"

Vi shrugged.

"Silco. She wanted help getting dirt on him. I wanted to find Powder. There was…overlap, I guess. Didn't realize how much, though." 

"And? " Ekko still wasn’t satisfied. 

She glanced at him. "And…what?"

"And that still doesn't explain why a Piltie enforcer was willing to trade out her life for a trencher."

"Oh.” That. “Yeah, I don't get it, either,” she admitted. Her eyes followed Caitlyn as she stopped to talk to a bird-masked firelight with lively hands. “I think she just cares." 

"...about?"

Vi glanced at her fists. "Everything. Everyone."

Ekko didn’t respond. Not directly, and not for a while. When he finally spoke again, his tone was grave.

"I'm risking a lot on your word, you know. Trusting her."

"I know,” Vi lifted a shoulder, “but I stand by it."

Ekko’s hum of acknowledgement was grudging, barely blunted by acceptance. But he didn’t argue, and he didn’t ask anymore questions. He just arched his back and stretched, settling back into the sun.

Grateful, Vi dropped down onto her forearms, letting the railing take her weight. Knitting her fingers, she let her eyes follow Caitlyn as the enforcer moved deeper into the sanctuary. For the first time, she noticed the sag in the satchel on Caitlyn’s back. 

“Ekko,” she said.

“Yeah.”

“Her gun.”

“Huh?”

“You should give her back her gun.”

“What gun?” The Firelight leaned forward, squinting. With a frown, he shook his head and sat back. “She didn’t have one on her when we took you.”

“...you sure?”

Ekko lowered his chin and gave her an indulgent smirk. “Uh, yeah. I’m sure.”

Vi pushed off the railing with a scowl. Stuffing her hands in her pockets, she turned and stalked towards the stairs. 

Ekko called after her. “Where are you going?”

“Be back in a bit.” 

[storiedtreasures]

Jukebox Hero

a/n: Eddie’s an ace at collecting strays, so why not another of these fics?

summary: Starting your senior year at a new school was never going to be a good thing. But how bad can it get, honestly?

genre: slow burn, fluff, Eddie x f!reader

word count: ~4.4k

warnings: language, innuendo

 SEPTEMBER 1985

 I.  

 It’s a shock, no doubt. Eddie Munson runs into someone and they apologize to him? A first, that’s for sure. He laughs at the sheer absurdity as you ramble on.

 “Sorry, that was me. I wasn’t paying attention, didn’t clear the hallway.”

 Neither of you dropped anything or ended up with bruises, he’d honestly just clipped your backpack as he walked down the hall. He pardons you with a wave of his hand, and then actually takes a look at you. “Moore’s class, homeroom right?” he asks, fairly certain.

 “Right,” you nod.

 “New kid.” He says. He’s seen Pam Fanucci showing you off like a new Swatch she got for Christmas. He’s not sure why; you’re pretty plain as far as that crowd goes. No trendy clothes or swanky jewelry. Unremarkable hair-do. He’d have said forgettable or boring, but not to your face. Especially not now that you’ve groveled for bumping into him.

 You stifle a sigh, he thinks. “Yep. That’s me.”

 “How’s that going?” Eddie can’t help himself, it’s too easy.

 “Being the new kid?” you ask, eyebrows up so high he almost regrets it.

 “Yeah,” he pretends to be genuinely invested in your answer. You either see through the ruse or don’t care to answer, smiling in a way that hides your lips entirely. There’s a laugh he doesn’t entirely mean to let out but you seem grateful for the ease it creates.

 He’s staring past you at the Drama class door, closed with a sign on it frowning when you nod at it, questioning his gaze. “Was gonna talk to Birdie about something,” he explains, uncertain if you know the Drama teacher’s nickname by now.

 “They’re holding auditions right now. I’m waiting for a friend.” You inform, and he realizes his own evening now consists of waiting around for this to end.

 “Any idea when they’re over?” Eddie wonders if he rolled his eyes. Wayne’s been very vocal about him doing that lately. ‘Like you’re thirteen again, Eddie.’ He’ll say, throwing a hand up.

 “No, sorry. I don’t think Pam’s gone up yet and she wasn’t last so… a while?”

 Eddie clicks his tongue and nods, “Thanks anyway.” He makes it a few feet into the main hall, planning on waiting it out in his van when you call after him.

 “I like your-” you stop mid-sentence as he pivots to look at you. “Uh, jacket? Vest?” You’re squinting at his chest and he’s squinting back at you much the same.

“The back,” you clarify, “Dio?”  

“You like Dio?” You definitely didn’t look like the type.

 “Yeah,” you say, a little offended, “Well, I liked the Holy Diver song. That is Dio, right?”

 “It is.” He’s staring at you hard now, trying to figure out if you’re messing with him or maybe just trying to sound cool. “Just Holy Diver?” he quizzes, waiting to see if you’ve got a game.

 “Oh, um… I liked the other one,” Your eyes close as you hum under your breath, mentally chasing a name. “Rainbow in the Dark! I liked that one. I didn’t really see which-” You walk around him, trying to see the back of his jacket, he realizes.

 “Last in Line,” he tells you. “It’s from a concert in Chicago last year.”

 “Good?” you ask, and you look like you truly want to know.

 “Yeah, awesome actually.” He shrugs. “Last in Line’s probably as good as the Holy Diver album.” Eddie thinks it might be better but there’s a chance he’s biased. “You don’t look like the type,” He tells you. “You seem like more of a-”

 “I listen to a lot of radio,” you cut him off before he can put a finger on what he would’ve guessed you listened to. You’re eyeing the patches on his vest and he can see the wheels turning. He’s left wondering if you recognize the names or not. “I probably lean a little more towards the uh, light, kind of metal. Van Halen, Whitesnake.”

 “They’re not…terrible,” he concedes. Scratches his chin and adds, “Slide It In was pretty good, actually.”

 “I have that one.” You nod in agreement, smiling with one side of your mouth.

 Pam steps out into the hallway and frowns at him while she calls your name. “Can you hold my stuff for a minute?” You slip over and take the bag she holds out, the two of you exchanging words he can’t hear. Eddie has an instinct to just turn tail down the hall, leave the conversation where it landed. Pam’s back in the room, door clicking loudly behind her before he makes good on the instinct.

 “She’s up in a minute. Says there are like four people after her so maybe 20 minutes?” He doesn’t register what you’re saying at first. “Until they’re done.”

 “Got it.” He lets his eyebrows fall back into place. “Thanks. Clear the halls better next time, yeah?” He doesn’t know why he says it. Just comes out. He leaves you in the hall holding Pam’s bag with a haphazard salute and heads for his van to wait the next half hour out on his own.

 II.

 It’s about a week later in Moore’s class when he finds himself thinking of the Whitesnake album the two of you had talked about. At first Eddie’s not sure why but after staring aimlessly at the chalkboard it dawns on him that the poem the teacher’s going over has startlingly similar lines to one of the songs. Sugar coated and silver-tongued stand out in bold now that the thought’s occurred. Spit It Out, he thinks. The appeal of the album had been largely in the amount of innuendo that it squeezed in.

 You’re behind him a couple of seats. He’s been sentenced to a front row seat this semester, and probably deserved it. Still, he can turn in his seat just enough to see your face. It takes a minute for you to notice his gaze. Your eyes flit to the teacher before you raise your eyebrows at him. He smirks, laughs to himself looking at the blackboard again. If you haven’t caught it yet he’s not sure what he can mouth to make it clear.

 He's pretty sure you followed his gaze though. Eddie glances back just in time to see your eyes go a little big and your mouth twitch as you swallow a snicker. You manage to smooth your face back to indifference but he notices how you staunchly refuse to look his way again.

 He slows in the hallway outside the door as nonchalantly as possible, waiting for you to exit the class. You move past him but dawdle as well, only daring to look at him once you’re all the way out of the classroom. You close your eyes almost instantly, finally letting out the laugh you’d held back in class. “That song’s gonna be stuck in my head all day now, thanks.”

 “Worse ones to have trapped up there,” he teases.

 “Yeah, such a pious tune to accidentally sing in trig class. Day: ruined.” You’re down the hall before he can come up with something worse to say.

 When you walk toward his table in the cafeteria he manages to catch your eye, and you smile despite yourself. You circle your finger around a couple times by your head and mouth “still up there” over the crowd.

 There’s another brief exchange in the hall after fourth period. He thinks you’ve had to have forgotten it by now, which means he can trap it up there again if he plays his cards right. You walk by, books tight against your chest in an effort to make yourself as small as possible to get through the herd of students, and he leans away from the locker.

 Except you’re singing I roll my dice with a heart of ice at him before he has a chance to even hum a bar. Eddie snorts without thinking, folds easily – he hadn’t expected that from you. He’s disappointed in himself but he’d be lying to say it wasn’t the highlight of his day.

 Eddie isn’t about to start kidding himself this far into his high school career, though. It’s only a matter of time before one or all of the parent-approved friends you’ve got tell you how you should steer clear of him. The daggers Pam Fanucci had stared at him from the drama room threshold weren’t the sharpest in recent memory but they served as proof you weren’t far enough down the social ladder for him to make a habit of hanging out with.

 Didn’t mean he couldn’t try to ‘ruin’ your day one last time. The tape’s in his Chevy already. He’s only gotta put it in and fast forward about a song or two in on the second side. Gareth’s sitting shotgun, asking what they’re waiting for about five times before you exit the building, heading for the parking lot. He waits until you stop to talk to some girl whose name he doesn’t remember before cranking up the volume.

 It doesn’t take more than ten seconds to get the van backed out of the parking spot and pulled up alongside you. You’re looking at the sky and shaking your head, trying to say something through your laughter.

 “I can’t tell if you’re trying to help or hurt, honestly.”

 Eddie doesn’t say anything, just grins. He peels away and a few of the other cars slam on their brakes, clearing a path. All in all, not a terrible day.

 III.

 “Shouldn’t you be gone by now?” Eddie asks, as if he isn’t still hanging around the school parking lot at half past closing bell. You’ve set up camp on the brick wall, one leg tucked under and a particularly uninteresting looking book half-open in your lap.

 “Waiting on my ride.” You shrug.

 Eddie leans out his window a little to glance around at the cars left in the lot. Todd Douglass’ is not among them.

 “Which is…” he leads.

 “Todd is busy. Uh,” you falter. “Well, wherever he is-”

 “He has his hands full?” Eddie offers, smirking.

 You snort, smirk back. “Something like that. You know, it’s a party I wasn’t-”

 “Invited to?” He can’t help himself, doing his best not to actually wiggle his eyebrows.

 “Wasn’t interested in attending,” you correct. “A, um, need-to-not-know basis.”

 That’s funny, he thinks. You’re funny. He almost says so when something stops him. Reality, Eddie reasons.

 There’s a look on your face as Todd’s car, seemingly summoned by the small talk, revs onto the pavement in front of your perch. Eddie’s not sure if he sees it well enough to call it disappointment. Maybe it was annoyance. Either way, you don’t actually say goodbye but you do throw your chin in his direction as you pull open the back door of the Buick.

 IV.

 Douglass was less than reliable, he’d noticed that. Eddie dragged his feet on enough group projects to write essays on the subject but even he’d been appalled by Todd’s brazen dereliction of duty. You had been posted up on the wall yet again when he’d left, Gareth in tow for a ride home and a rundown of the next day’s setlist.

 But now you’re slumping down Melvald street, headphones on and hands shoved deep into your jacket pockets. He takes a chance, spins the wheel all the way around on the empty street and pulls up next to the sidewalk, slowing to keep pace with you. You drop the headphones to your neck and look at him like he’s strange, but Eddie’s used to that. From everyone, why not you too?

 “You turn down an invite to another party?” he jokes, double checking the room he has to the next stop sign. Still no traffic.

 “It’s not a terrible day and I had my Walkman,” you tap the mechanics around your neck and shrug. Eddie looks at the mist on his windshield. It’s not enough to turn on the wipers yet but the darkness looming overhead has already tempted his headlights on.

 “It’s raining,” he says to you, wondering if you’ll contradict him. Of course, you take the bait.

 “Drizzling.” you answer back. The windbreaker you’re wearing is definitely damp, Eddie can tell from the way it hangs off of your shoulders, tight to the top of your arms.

 “It’s only going to get worse. You want a ride?” He leans over and throws the metal pail in the passenger seat over his shoulder. You stop on the sidewalk, mouth open and one eye closed, ready to argue. Your impending refusal dies as loud clap of thunder breaks out. Eddie grins, daring you to tell him no now.

 “You sure?” you frown at him.

 He can’t reach all the way across the cab to open the door for you so instead he beckons you with a wave. “Come on.”

 The sky waits a moment while you tell him where you live, the apartments about 10 minutes up the road, and then opens up before he pulls away from the nearest stop sign. Eddie doesn’t say ‘told ya’ but his eyebrows do. You breathe out a sigh before saying “Thanks” and sounding like you mean it.

 “What’re you listening to?” he asks as you open up your backpack to shove your headphones in.

 “Something to make you think less of my taste, I’m sure.”

 “You can put it in if you want,” Eddie says, ejecting the tape currently in the stereo. “I won’t make fun of you.” The look you give him does nothing to hide your doubt. “Unless it’s like, really bad.” He pauses for effect and adds, “Sunglasses at Night bad. It’s not Sunglasses at Night, is it?”

 You open your mouth and close it again, a mischievous smile sliding across your face as you pull the tape out of your Walkman and shove it into the deck. He can’t see enough of it to even take a guess at its contents.

 He’s been listening to the same Slayer album for the last week, reasons a change of pace might do him some good. Your taste can’t be that bad, if previous conversations are anything to go off. He’s pleasantly surprised when the tape kicks in. Lou Gramm’s not hard to recognize.

 “This the one with Urgent on it?” Eddie knows the answer, but Foreigner’s not exactly metal and he likes letting you think he’s got discriminating taste.

 “Yeah. It’s next, actually.” Sure enough, the song kicks in almost immediately.

 “So, you only listen to songs you can’t sing in trig class?” he asks, undecided if he’s trying to rile you up or set you at ease.

 “Well, that’s what rock music is, isn’t it.” You shrug, leaning back a little.

 Eddie’s not convinced you’re actually touching the car seat yet but it’s something. “Is what, exactly?”

 “Something my mom’s always said,” you explain, another sly smile on display, “It’s not really rock and roll if it isn’t pissing off someone’s parents.”

 “I take it she’s not a fan of this album?” He’s trying to miss puddles when he asks and instead misses the look you shoot him.

 “No, she likes it. Never said she was one of the parents it was pissing off. All the Van Halen vinyl we own is hers.”

 “Why is your mom sounding cooler than you all of the sudden?” Eddie jokes as he rolls to a stop and glances over. You’re still too far forward in your seat to look comfortable.

 You purse your lips before answering, pretending to be offended, he thinks, as you stare up at the red light. “She probably is, truth be told.”

 “I’m not doubting it,” he agrees as he eases away on the change to green. It’s taking a lot of effort to be passenger-considerate but he thinks he’s pulling it off.

 “So, do you only like bands you can put on your vest?” you ask, and Eddie wonders if you had been pretending after all. It’s incredibly derisive. Could have cut him to the quick if he wasn’t made of metal already, as it were.

 “Jacket.” He corrects.

 “Jacket,” you placate. There’s no venom in your voice but Eddie’s an expert in anxiety, really wants to be certain.

 “I have favorites, but I listen to a lot. Helps to keep an ear to the ground.” When he looks over the pull between your eyebrow asks ‘why’.

 “Gotta keep up with the competition and all.” He waves a hand in the direction of the radio.

 “You a musician, I take it?” Your head hits the headrest for the first time and Eddie feels his shoulders drop two inches. Took long enough.

 “Guitarist.” He answers a little too proudly.

 “Any good?” There’s a smirk on your face that says you meant to crack him up.

 “Probably as good as all the other assholes who pick up a guitar in middle school.” He says, thinking it’s true. There’s a not-terrible lull in the conversation as the chorus of a new song plays. One about dark silhouettes at tables.

 “Hey for what it’s worth I didn’t mean it about your mom being cooler or whatever, that was a joke.”

 “I know. I mean, you’re not wrong. No one’s gonna look at me and think ‘she’s cool’. At all.”

 “No, you’re-” You dare him to disagree with a single look.

 “Okay, probably not. You do dress kind of…” Don’t say boring, he thinks. Struggles for a moment to come up with something else. “Safe.” He’s pleased with himself for that one.

 You don’t look hurt but you are rubbing your hands on jeans awkwardly. Shit.

 “My last few schools had dress codes. I didn’t have to worry about what other kids thought. Then we get here and I’m looking at all the clothes I have like, what am I an extra in a rerun of Welcome Back Kotter?”

 And not one of the ones with any lines, Eddie thinks but doesn’t say so. You look like you can see him keeping his snark to himself.

 “Pam calls it ‘retro’,” you muster your best impression of condescension. He thinks you’ve ended the conversation but you keep glancing over at him and pull your bottom lip all the way into your mouth like you’re waiting on him to say something.

 “I have absolutely nothing to add,” he assures you.

 You shake your head. At him or yourself, he doesn’t know. “Wanna hear the worst part?”

 Eddies eyebrows shoot up and he says “Yeah…” like it’s the dumbest question he’s heard.

 “Before we moved, I had, um,” You won’t look at him while you’re saying, pretending to be very interested in the windshield. “The uh… the Marcia Brady haircut.”

 Eddie tries not to laugh before you do but it’s really hard. Luckily you’re snickering almost as soon as he is. He gestures to your hair and says, “But you made it into the current decade! A little late it sounds like, but it looks good.” He bobs his head reassuringly. Maybe unconvincingly.

 You make a big show of rolling your eyes. “Thanks,” you groan, then point to the left. “It’s this one.” You’re already ejecting the tape to throw it back in your bag as he pulls into the complex.  

 He parks into the spot you point at, assuming your door is close. It’s not pouring or anything now but there’s no reason to make you walk a mile in this weather. You grab the door handle as his hand hits the box of tapes in the floorboard.

 “Hey, uh-” he says before you can get out, the thought only half formed. “I’ve got the Last in Line cassette if you wanted to listen to it. Borrow it.” Your hand falls back onto your backpack.

 “Sure, if you don’t mind. Actually,” you pull your bag up and onto your shoulder. “I have a few blank tapes – I can just make a copy if you wanted to wait.”

“Yeah, that’s cool.” He hands you the tape and watches as you hop out cautiously. Eddie often forgets how big of a drop it is himself. Wonders if he should’ve warned you before you got out. He rolls his window halfway down when you stop on the sidewalk in front of the van and cock your head at him.

 “You gonna wait in the car?”

 “I didn’t wanna impose,” he explains. And then the look is back on your face again: he’s strange.

 “You can come in? If you want, I mean.” Your shrug says it really isn’t a big deal one way or the other.

 Eddie’s left trying to remember the last time a girl from school invited him into her house and it’s… it’s been too long to count. Years, now. He turns the car off and jumps out onto the wet pavement with as much nonchalance as he can. “Yeah, alright.”

 Your apartment is on the second floor and not much to talk about. The living room, kitchen and dining room are all pretty much visible from the door. Couple of doors on the left, one on the right. The whole place is basically brown. Brown couch, wooden table with matching chairs, wood laminate cabinets and laminate countertops. Nicer than his trailer, at any rate. Cleaner, for sure. There’s a mauve monochromatic picture of fake flowers in a vase over the table but that’s the only thing on the white walls.

 You head into the living room immediately and find a tape to start copying the album. Your stereo setup isn’t half bad, if a little dated. There’s a console he’s pretty sure has a turntable in it on the opposite wall. You’re careful putting the cassettes in and rewinding them, tender even, ensuring both tapes are uninjured while recording.

 Eddie says no on instinct when you offer a drink. Almost too fast, he thinks. “Lotta music,” he says as a way of changing the subject, pointing to the tapes lining the shelves of the stereo cabinet. “Someone in the family a musician?”

 You laugh through your nose, “Not really. I can’t even clap on a beat. My mom’s never played music on anything but the radio as far as I know.”

 “Aw, everyone picks up an instrument at some point. Not everyone sticks with it, that’s the difference.”

 “Well, not everyone. We don’t even-” The words die on your lips as you stand in the middle of the living room. One minute you’re sucking your teeth and the next smiling ruefully at him. Eddie half-follows you to a closet, your finger up as if pressing pause on the conversation. You seem disappointed in its contents and motion for him to wait where he is, disappearing across the apartment and reemerging with a cheap gig bag.

 “You were saying?” he asks, pointing at the guitar in your hand. You set it down on the table, nodding begrudgingly.

 “Technically it’s my grandmother’s. Was. We got it when she passed. Pretty sure she bought it at a pawn shop.” Judging by the case, Eddie agrees. “Her and her sisters had this thing, I guess, where if one sister did something, the other two copied that one. And one of them started playing, like, the fiddle and so my grandmother decided to get a guitar and learn? I don’t think she ever did, but that had been the plan apparently.” It’s kind of nice, he thinks. He doesn’t have a sibling to one-up but the sentiment is easy to follow. You’re still talking which is also kind of nice, because he’s never heard you say this much.

 “Which is odd, because from what I gather she used to play the harmonica when she was young. Or when my mom was young, I don’t know which. So why not just go back to that instead of trying to learn a whole new instrument in your 60s or 70s but who knows.” You’re unzipping the cover and taking out the guitar to hand to him. It’s definitely an acoustic learner, but there’s no scuffs and all the strings are still on it. “Not sure why we haven’t pawned it. My mom’s not exactly attached to it, with the short provenance and all. I’m sure not gonna take it up.” He’s tempted to try and commiserate over lost grandparents but he’s not certain he knows you well enough. Not certain he wants you to know him that well.

 You’re poking through the case, unzipping the pockets and rifling through them. You pull an old skoal tin out of one and shake it. There’s something inside and Eddie’s kind of hoping for the worst but can’t picture a pawn shop that wouldn’t have found that before resale. You pry open the lid and scatter the contents on your dining table: a dozen or so guitar picks. Disappointing, but not without merit, he thinks as he picks up one with a familiar marbled finish. He keeps it in his hand without much consideration as he swipes through the pile of others. There’s a couple of Fender celluloids he’s pressing his finger on thoughtfully and you must notice his gaze.

 “You can take ‘em, if you want. I mean, it’s not like I need them.”

 “You sure?” Eddie asks, looking up from the table to be certain. You roll your eyes and pick up a couple of black plectrums, depositing them into the tin and shutting it.

 “Take your pick, man.” Your eyes close and it’s obvious you hadn’t meant to make the pun. “Just take any ones you want.” He grins and pockets about four in addition to the one glued to his palm upon first glance. You shovel the rest into the tin and back into the bag along with the guitar.

 The two of you pass the rest of the time with Eddie thumbing through the cassettes and a box of vinyl on the floor that hadn’t fit in the console cabinet. He pulls out a title, you tell him if it’s yours or your mother’s. There’s a couple of unexpected ones – that you have a Motörhead album at all, for one. That the AC/DC is ‘technically’ your mom’s. He notices you never mention a dad and considering his own personal experiences he gleans not to ask.

 It's not the worst way he’s passed an afternoon he thinks, getting up from the living room floor as you put the Dio cassette in its case and hand it back. Not that he’s dumb enough to hope to make a habit of this, of course.

[suchawannabe56]

Better Latte Than Never

This fic was created for the Shadowhunters Mini Bang 2023: Presented by the @malecdiscordserver

CHAPTER NINE

Alec didn’t have to wait long for Magnus to message. His phone buzzed as soon as he locked the door and said goodbye to Lydia. He couldn’t stop a smile from spreading across his face. 

Magnus: Enjoy your evening, Alexander. I hope you didn’t work too hard

Alec quickly checked that there was no one around before doing a little dance at the message, although he would never admit to doing such a thing. He quickly typed out his reply and headed home. 

They spent the evening texting and Alec scolded Magnus since the man was still in his office and messaging Alec instead of working. Alec was grateful that there was no one around to witness his blush when Magnus said that he was a good distraction and a necessary one if Magnus wanted to stay sane. Apparently, having Alec’s number now meant that Magnus wasn’t holding back on the flirting and Alec wasn’t sure he was going to survive. He even stayed up until Magnus informed him he had gotten home at almost midnight, not being able to sleep until he knew that the man was safe. Not that he would ever admit that either. Alec had never cared about it before and after a couple of hours of texting, he was obsessed. He was beginning to fear for his sanity. 

Since he was working the afternoon shifts, Alec slept in the following morning, only waking when the sun shone into his eyes. He groaned as he rolled over, grabbing his phone only to find a message from Magnus. Alec would usually ignore all messages until after he’d had coffee but as a smile spread across his face he opened it straight away. 

Magnus: Good morning, Alexander. Have an amazing day and I look forward to seeing your beautiful face later 😍 

Alexander: Morning. Sorry, just woke up. Have a great day, Magnus

Alec slid out of bed and was just about to walk into the bathroom when he heard his phone ping. He took a quick look at the screen and turned bright red when he saw the message Magnus had sent. 

Magnus: No need to apologise, Alexander

Magnus: I bet you look adorable when you’ve just woken up 😊

Magnus: Have a great shower, Alexander… and think of me 😏

Alec placed the phone down, deciding to not open the messages quite yet when it pinged once again. He knew he shouldn’t look but curiosity got the better of him and he did, groaning at the message that awaited him. 

Magnus: I could use a pic of your freshly-showered self to help get through my meetings today. So many boring meetings, Alexander, I need a sexy barista to distract me 😍😏🥺

Alec left his phone there as he headed into the bathroom to shower. He was going to pretend that he didn’t consider the picture and if he did think of Magnus while showering, well, that was between him and the bathroom tiles. 

What Alec hadn’t expected when he got back to his room as he was getting dressed was to find another message from Magnus, making him feel a whole new set of emotions. 

Magnus: I’m sorry if that was a bit much. I didn’t mean to come on too strong. Alexander, please tell me if I say anything that makes you uncomfortable

Alec sat on the bed, staring at the phone. He could feel the faint blush that had appeared on the tops of his cheeks. Magnus seemed to genuinely care about how Alec was feeling and Alec really didn’t know what to do with that information. Not wanting Magnus to worry that his messages had scared him off, Alec quickly unlocked his phone and typed out his reply. 

Alexander: It’s okay, you didn’t make me feel uncomfortable. I promise that I will tell you though, if you ever do

As a thought popped into his mind, he allowed himself to send it before he could stop himself. 

Alexander: And maybe one day I’ll send you that picture 😉

With that, Alec went to make himself some breakfast, leaving his phone on the dresser, slightly terrified of what he had just done. 

***

Alec spent most of his workday texting Magnus when he wasn’t making coffee, which amused Lydia. Alec wasn’t one to spend time on his phone even when there were no customers in the store. She found him standing near the end of the counter smiling at the device. 

“What’s got you all smiley?” she asked, her tone teasing.

“No one.”

“Mmhmm. Wouldn’t happen to be someone whose name starts with ‘M’ and ends in ‘S’ and likes to drink vanilla soya lattes?”

The tips of Alec’s ears turned pink and he glared at his so-called friend. His physical response told Lydia everything she needed to know and she just chuckled softly, patting his arm. 

“He’s good for you,” she whispered. “You need to smile more often.” 

Alec stuck his tongue out at her and went back to texting Magnus. 

When Magnus came into the store, Alec was worried that he’d have nothing to talk about, since they’d been messaging nonstop all day. Fortunately, he was wrong and Magnus stuck around for a good fifteen minutes chatting with Alec while sipping his coffee. 

“Do you always stay so late?” Alec asked, leaning on the counter as they talked. 

“Most of the time,” Magnus replied. “I have a lot of responsibilities to take care of. Lots of things to go through and double-check and triple-check to make sure my case is as sure as possible. 

Alec nodded, he understood Magnus’s point but at the same time, the man needed rest. 

“But, you’ll end up wearing yourself out,” Alec stated, making Magnus’s eyes flash. 

“Aww, are you worried about me?” Magnus asked his tone light and teasing. 

“Yes,” Alec replied before realising what he’d said, turning a wonderful shade of pink. “I mean… you wouldn’t be able to help clients if you’re worn out.”

“Smooth,” Lydia mumbled from down the bar, earning herself a pen lid thrown in her direction. 

Magnus was still smiling like all of his dreams had come true as he replied, “Well then, give me a reason to take a break. Go on a date with me.”

Alec blinked at him, processing what had just happened. 

“This is the part where you say, ‘Yes, I’d like that very much’,” Lydia whispered, prompting Alec to raise the lidless pen threateningly. 

“I’d love to,” he finally replied, causing Magnus to smile so brightly, Alec thought he could rival the sun. 

“Wonderful, let’s say Saturday at 7 pm?” 

Alec nodded. “Sounds good.”

Magnus picked up his coffee, the smile never leaving his face. “It’s a date,” he stated before walking away. 

[backtothestart02]

It's Always Been You - 1/2 | westallen fanfiction

A/N: For the series premiere anniversary. Enjoy.

...

Synopsis: 1x01 - Canon Divergent - Barry tells Iris how he feels before getting struck by lightning.

...

Chapter 1 -

The buzz from running out of CCPD to head down to STAR Labs slightly dimmed as they made their way through the crowd, and what Barry had planned on doing since he got off the train earlier that day returned to the surface.

He was going to tell Iris how he felt about her.

No more beating around the bush, no more pretending he just liked her as a friend. No, he was going to lay it all out on the line, come hell or high water, because he was sick of being the guy she didn’t date just because she didn’t know where his head and his heart was at. If he was ever going to have a chance with her, she had to know.

So, as they moved closer to STAR Labs, and Iris started asking him questions about his trip to Starling City, he knew the moment was upon him. Steeling himself for her reaction, he smiled and laughed at her latest remark and began the trek to the biggest moment of his life probably.

“Actually, while I was away, I had a chance to think about, you know, relationships.” He paused. “Oh, I’m not in one,” he said awkwardly. “And you’re not in one either. And…you’re my best friend, Iris.”

“You’re mine, too,” she cut him off. “Why else would I be here?”

“Yeah, that’s not what I meant. What I-”

“I know what you’re gonna say, Barry.”

“I’m not sure you do.”

She definitely did not, but he let her continue anyway. Maybe she did?

“Even though we pretty much grew up in the same house together, and we’re kind of like brother and sister… Because we’re not brother and sister, it can get really weird and awkward to talk to me about girls, but I just want you to know that it shouldn’t be awkward.” She shifted gears, driving her point home. “There is nothing that I want more than for you to meet the right person that totally loves and adores you for the amazing guy that you are.”

And he hesitated then, because it would be so easy to let it go at that, to tell her she was right, and that there was nothing more to it. After all, the ceremony was about to start. There wouldn’t be much time for her to answer him anyway, if she had an answer to give him at all.

“That’s…sweet, Iris.”

She smiled and nudged him.

“Aren’t you glad I know you so well?”

“But,” he was quick to say, “still not what I wanted to say, what I’ve been wanting to say for a very long time.”

“Oh.” She frowned, probably bummed that she didn’t know her best friend by heart. “Okay, well, what is it then?”

He took a deep breath and continued.

“Okay. The reason I brought up how neither of us are in relationships right now is because I want to be in one…with you.”

She blinked.

“But we’re already in a relationship. We’re best friends.”

This was gonna be harder than he thought. Better to go straight to the punch.

“Yeah, but I want more than that now. I mean, not just now. I’ve always wanted more than that. I’ve just been afraid to say anything because I didn’t want to ruin our friendship, but-”

“Barry, what are you trying to say?”

“I love you, Iris. I’m in love with you. I always have been. And if you feel the same, then-”

Applause cut through as Dr. Harrison Wells came on stage and started to talk. Barry and Iris awkwardly turned away from each other and tried to pay attention to the reason they’d come. It wasn’t until a run-of-the-mill thief grabbed Iris’ backpack containing her laptop and thesis on it that she spoke again, urging Barry into action.

He was terrible runner, and the guy clocked him, cutting his run short, but luckily – or unluckily for Barry – a cocky, young cop stopped him, and confiscated both the thief and Iris’ backpack.

She was eternally grateful, and Barry was left nursing a bloody nose.

…

They left STAR Labs, having missed the big moment both with each other and the particle accelerator reveal to hang out at CCPD for a bit. Barry didn’t stay long, especially not after Iris admitted to finding Detective Eddie Thawne, her hero of the hour, attractive. She clearly regretted the words the minute they tumbled out of her mouth, because she shot her best friend a look that spilled a million apologies, given the last thing he’d told her, but it was too late for that.

His nose had stopped bleeding, and so he dumped the tissue in the trash and went up to his lab. He turned on the TV to watch the report from the front lines of STAR Labs and look back over his dad’s board that he’d put together over the years, sinking back into the memories of his childhood trauma as the particle accelerator was turned on.

Then, as quickly as everything had been turned on, the power went out. Barry looked out the window and saw a large colorful mass spreading across the sky. His eyes widened as it passed over the building.

“Barry!”

Iris’ voice could be heard coming down the hall, her heels clicking away.

“Barry, are you okay?” She burst into his lab.

It started to storm, and Barry looked around as chemicals started to lift out of their containers. He moved to shut the sky window in the roof.

“Iris, stay back,” he ordered, fear building inside of him.

He watched in slow motion as lightning rained down through the window and thrust him across the room just as Iris darted towards him to move him out of the way.

But she was too late.

“Barry! Barry!” Tears running down her cheeks, as she tried to shake him awake, she turned and ran to the top of the steps down the hall. “Somebody, help! Barry was struck by lightning!”

[thatdreadbitch]

WIP Wednesday

thank you for tagging me @korblez I can’t tell you how long this post-Archangel mission scene has been living in my brain rent free. Scene word count: 884

~~ “Don’t give me that bullshit Cassandra! You always have a choice!” Jason raised his voice even louder at her. Before anyone could move to intervene, Cassandra moved her hand to erect a barrier around and between her and her brother.

“If you want we can go and drop you off on the citadel after I recruit the salarian scientist but don’t you dare sit there and judge me when you are the one who has been playing dead for the last decade and a half; you have no idea what I’ve been through because I thought you were dead.”

Elysium. Akuze. Hell, everything that had happened since she enlisted was because she thought he died with their parents. What was everything supposed to mean if not that she should live out their dream for him?

"Commander Shepard," Another soldier's voice brought the former commander out of her thoughts, away from the ghost in front of her. She looked over her brother's shoulder to the Alliance personnel behind him. Did he set her up? The Alliance was supposed to know she was working for the council right now. This was definitely not what she needed right now. She lowered the Barrier around her brother to strengthen the one between herself and him. Regardless of what they said, she wasn't going to go with them quietly.  Not with the entire Galaxy counting on her to stop the Collectors. "The Alliance-"

"Lost its authority over Shepard when they put her name forward for the Spectres. Your Committee was made aware of this," Nihlus interrupted the soldier, placing a firm hand on the former commander's shoulder from behind. Cassandra kept silent, clenching her hands into fists.

Once again, Nihlus had to save her, it was just another time and place.

Still, she would be lying if she said she wasn’t grateful for Nihlus’ intervention, even if it was a little unexpected. She doubted that the Alliance was just going to let her go with him however. So long as she didn't actively fight either of there was nothing either of them could say against her that would hold up, or at least that was the hope. She had already cost Alliance lives doing her duty as a Spectre to save the council. She doubted she would be granted as much understanding to save her own skin however.

“Stay calm and play along. Power down your biotics; I won’t let them take you.”   Nihlus’ voice played through a transceiver piece in her ear. She looked at the turian standing behind her as he glared at the Alliance soldiers in front of them. She sincerely hoped that they couldn't hear it from the few feet in front of her that they were.

Her heart leapt into her throat and her shoulders slumped. Time seemed to start to slow down around her again as she struggled to calm down enough to hide her biotics.

Damn it.

“Cassandra Shepard.” Nihlus’ hand firmly gripped her wrist and moved it behind her. The familiar sound of a set of omni-cuffs stood out to her ear as he grabbed her other wrist. She pulled her arm back to pretend to resist him, only to realize her wrists were already locked together. “By Spectre Authority I’m taking you back to the Citadel for your connection to Cerberus. Your spectre status has been revoked. Your biotics won’t work against these.”

Cassandra continued to pretend to struggle against his grip, feigning a glare at the turian. She muttered a few curses under her breath at the Alliance soldiers, glaring daggers at her brother. The humans looked at one another before silently walking away from the former commander, but had they really bought the act? “I apologize if I hurt you, I needed [the Alliance] to believe I wasn’t going easy on you.” Nihlus undid the omni-cuffs once the soldiers had gotten far enough away that it was clear they werent coming back. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, a little roughed up but-”

“Not what I was asking, Shepard.”

“I appreciate the concern, but you really don’t need to worry about me.”

“I find that hard to believe considering everything that’s happened.”

“Shit happens. My ability to adapt part of why you thought I deserved to join the Spectres.”

“Show me another Spectre that’s been through what you have, Shepard.” Nihlus had hesitated before he spoke. “You can’t keep bottling it up like this, especially- eventually it’s going to catch up to you and boil over, what then?”

Cassandra could tell that he was going to bring up what Project Lazarus had done to her biotics before he caught himself. Another thing she didn't need to be reminded of. 

“You seemed prepared for if they showed up to cause trouble.” She quickly tried to change the subject

"The Alliance has reportedly been causing trouble for the Council since First Contact.” He continued. “It was anticipated that they'd have trouble cooperating if one of their soldiers ever became a Spectre and then went rogue."

"I guess that's at least part of the reason the Council sent you with me." Cassandra was almost certain that at least another part of the reason was because the Council didn't completely trust her, which she really couldn't blame them for considering her circumstances.

[xprojectrpg]

Moment of Awesome - Maya Lincoln-Lopez/Echo:In the wake of Behold A Pale Horse, Gabriel Cohuelo checks up on Maya and they talk about the unmentionable - the betrayal by Wade Wilson

“I got shot,” Maya agreed, her accompanying sign almost a dismissive flick. “I’m not dead. You’re not dead. It’s a win.”

"Stop it," Gabriel frowned. "It's not a win." He couldn't believe she would be pretending otherwise. "You got shot, and you needed days to recover. And..." He didn't even want to have to say it, and he was starting to get annoyed that she was going to make him.

“After the man I think of as an uncle was just lucid enough to shoot me in the foot.”

Maya said it matter of factly, the snap of the words harsh as she picked up her can of soda and looked down at the label.

“He didn’t kill me, Gabe. He was crazy enough to, he tried to kill Clarice. But not me. Me he recognised. Why do you think that’s a loss?”

"Because he's a fucking lunatic who fucking shot you!" He would not, ordinarily, have been so furious in front of her. Not because he thought she needed to see him maintain composure — they knew each other too well at this point — but because he didn't like to lose it in front of anyone. "That's not — it's not okay, Maya. Do you know how lucky you were? You don't think he and Clarice were close too? I mean, what the actual fuck!"

Maya launched the can of soda at his head with a furious scream, on her feet before she remembered and then collapsing downward as she got tangled in pillow, chair and the sheer agony of having put weight on a gunshot wound that wasn’t ready for it.

Gabriel, grateful for his powers, caught the can. He wordlessly went to her bathroom, pulled a bottle of over-the-counter painkillers from the medicine cabinet and tossed it in her direction before returning to his seat.

Maya swore viciously in Spanish, calling Gabriel’s parentage into question and telling him exactly what he could do with his painkillers as she struggled back up into her chair and settled in again.

She took several deep breaths, and then glared.

“What good does it do, mi hermano? I can’t do anything about it.”

"No," Gabriel acknowledged. "You can't." He refused to break eye contact with her. "But don't pretend it's fine. It's not." He kept calm, because he'd already lost his cool once, and it clearly hadn't served him. "You're not supposed to be fine. None of this is fine. And you're not stronger for pretending it is."

“Speaking from personal experience?”

Maya dry swallowed both pills and sat back into her chair, allowing the headrest to cradle her suddenly exhausted self.

“Why is it that people only offer advice when it’s someone else doing the same thing they were just doing not months ago, like nobody will call them on their bullshit.”

He bristled slightly at that, but he refused to let it fluster him. He'd been dealing with Maya for years; he knew how she operated, and he knew she wanted to get a rise out of him. "There's so much you think you know," he said after a second. "But yes, I am speaking from personal experience, actually." He wanted to tell her that he had been trying to deal with his shit, recently. But that would mean explaining just what his shit is, and he didn't owe her anything.

But he'd give her something small. "M-Day was one of the five worst days of my life," he said, standing and moving to the kitchen, because he refused to look at her while he told her this. "And I would probably be dead by now if Wade had not dragged me back here and forced me to deal with my shit instead of drinking myself to death." He opened the fridge, peering inside. "I was barely holding it together. You think I'm a mess now? You have no idea."

“I don’t.”

It was tired, and sad but it was honest. It was a concession. She stared into the middle distance, wondering when she’d ever felt more tired.

“You leave all the time. You don’t talk to me, except about easy things. It makes me crazy. You want me to say things but you never say them either. Don’t I get to care too?”

[pellucid-constellations]

Undisclosed - Nine

Pairing: Lumberjack!Bucky x Reader

Summary: Desperate to outrun a secret that could cost you your life, you seek refuge in a small mountain town. Its deep forests and small cabins make it the perfect place to hide, but the travel website hadn’t mentioned anything about the quiet, burly lumberjack that wouldn’t leave your thoughts. No one had warned Bucky about you either.

Word count: 5.8k

Warnings: Angst, cannon level violence, injury, major protective bucky, crime

a/n: Thank you to everyone that’s been so supportive recently! These last couple weeks have just been thing after thing and I’m really grateful that I get to share my writing with everyone :) Feedback is always appreciated!! 

If you enjoy my writing, consider checking out my ko-fi♡

Series Masterlist // Main Masterlist

~~~

Everything hurt. 

It wasn’t a sharp pain. It was an ache that spread through your entire body, licking down to your toes and blooming across your head in the type of headache that seemed to linger days after it passed. A ringing in your ears followed your eyelids as they struggled open like weights being dropped to the bottom of the ocean. 

It took you a moment to remember everything that had happened. And then a moment later, you were thinking of Bucky. 

You were going to die, and he was going to think that you left him. You thought you were going to die before, but it was somehow worse now. Because Bucky—sweet, loving Bucky with the smile that made you melt—was going to be heart broken. 

You knew you were being irrational. 

Lying in some grimy cabin, your nose caked in dried blood and your face throbbing with a bruise you couldn’t see, you were worrying about breaking your boyfriend’s heart. But you remembered all too well the look on his face that day you ran from the Christmas party, and the thought of him feeling that way again sent a pain through your gut. 

You rolled over on your side, inhaling deeply through your nose. Wherever you were it was dusty and unkempt; the wood under your cheek had no carpet to cover the logs, and every time you cracked your eyelids open you could see dust floating past the light of the fireplace. 

At least Beck didn’t want you to freeze. 

No, he probably had other ways of doing this. Whatever ‘this’ was. 

You assumed he was going to kill you. That’s what his goal seemed to be when you ran from that old warehouse back in New York. His eyes were filled with rage while he chased you down the rickety old stairs, menacing promises preceding a sharp stab in your side. But if he wanted to just kill you, why didn’t he do it in the car? You were completely helpless in the backseat for the entire drive down the mountain—the perfect victim. 

And yet, here you were, broken and bruised on the floor in the middle of nowhere. 

“Waking up then, sleeping beauty?” 

You almost wished he would have just finished you off in the car; hearing his voice had always been enough to set your nerves on edge. 

“You can pretend not to hear me, but you and I are about to have a lot of time to chat, so you better stop being a bitch before I get pissed off.” 

You let out a dry cough and shakily raised yourself up on borrowed arms. It had only been hours maybe, but you felt as if you had been deprived of so much for so long. Food, water, soft hands that caressed you to sleep when your eyes wouldn’t stop moving under sealed shut lids; you had gotten too used to the comforts that came with Bucky Barnes.

“What do you want from me?” you croaked. 

He laughed. You were getting so sick of the sound. It already grated on you when you thought he was a good guy back in New York. But knowing what you knew now, and feeling the ache throughout your body that was caused by him, the throaty sound made you sick to your stomach. 

Beck crouched down in front of you, taking your battered chin between cruel fingers. “I don’t want anything from you, dearest.” 

“Kill me then,” you seethed, and your eye contact never wavered. “Stop with this game you’ve been playing with me since we were teenagers and get it over with.” 

They were empty words. The last thing you wanted was to die. Not after meeting Bucky and not after this wonderful life that was offered up to you in the form of Stowe Mills. No, for the first time in your life, you had something meaningful to live for. Not the aspiration of attention or the desire for approval; you had a family.

Beck’s eyes went wide for a fraction of a moment as if imagining such an offer. He let his tongue dart out to wet his lips as his gaze tracked over your face with the blankest expression you’d witnessed on him. And maybe you’d be scared if it wasn’t so obvious that he was going to keep you alive. 

But you didn’t take a moment to consider what that all would entail. 

You just wanted to get him as far away from Stowe Mills as possible. 

“I’d like that,” Beck whispered, voice hidden behind a man you had never encountered up close. “But unfortunately, people have been asking questions. It’s one thing to take the rich with no status—barely anyone knows what they look like. But when someone like you goes missing, there’s… talk.” He released your chin with a snap. “That, and your silly mother started to get sentimental after you left. Struck a deal with me that would benefit both parties.” 

Beck started to pace. It was a habit he’d picked up from his father. With your face free from wooden floors and punishing grips, you finally had enough strength to sit against the wall of the cabin. You watched as the man that planned on ruining your new life, your favorite life, thought up another grand lecture for you to sit through. 

“What was the deal?” Through dry, cracked lips, you played into his narcissism. The man loved to hear himself talk, and as long as he wasn’t touching you, you could handle that. You had handled that. For years. 

Beck smirked as if he was sharing an inside joke with himself. “We’re getting married. You, me, and all our secrets. I keep you alive, and if you try anything, little miss y/n becomes America’s most wanted. It’ll all be on your head. Your father helped us stage the evidence.”

There was a type of dryness in your throat that you hadn’t felt since that one winter when you needed your tonsils removed. You tried swallowing a few times, but the distinct patch in your airway refused to find comfort. You briefly wondered how long you would have until your body succumbed to hypothermia if you simply ran for it, but then the voice that kept chipping away at you added another addition to the heaviness in your heart. 

“Say no, resist in any way, and that burly idiot back in that stupid town bites it.” 

Your mind went into a frenzy. Nothing hurt anymore, but you simply couldn’t breathe. Up on shaky knees you begged with unpracticed words, “Please, anything but that. Just leave him alone and I promise I’ll do anything you want. I didn’t tell him anything. Please, Beck—” 

A flash of white light that tasted like heavy iron cut off your rambling. The assault was jarring, but this time, you stayed awake as you were knocked back against the wall that kept you upright just moments before. 

“Your mother said alive,” Beck hissed. An unwanted sob broke past your busted lip. “She didn’t specify that you had to be unharmed.” 

Silent tears mingled with the blood on your face, and silent you would continue to stay. Beck never liked when you shared your opinion, or when you spoke at all for that matter. But he was now free to act on that distaste, and for the sake of your already battered appearance, you would try to avoid those actions as much as possible. 

You could feel the panic begin to bubble up in your chest like a weight dangling by a thread; one wrong move, and it would all come tumbling down, ending you, ending everything. You had to keep it together, because there was no other way for this to go. You had to go with Beck willingly and you had to accept this life that you had run so far away from. 

God, you missed Bucky already. With Beck now angrily typing away at his phone that he kept smacking against his hand as the service failed, you ached for the sweetness that you had grown so accustomed to. You let your head roll to the side and imagined the softness of the touch that juxtaposed Bucky’s calloused fingers running through your hair, catching your tears, brushing past the angry red marks on your face. 

Bucky would lose it if he saw what you looked like right now. 

You remembered the look on his face when you fell down that icy hill all those months ago and the care he put into his words when you showed up at his door in the dead of night. You could distinctly remember Bucky’s reaction that one time you went rooting around in his attic for some snow equipment Sarah insisted was up there, the horror in his eyes when he noticed that your head was bleeding. 

“Oh my sweet girl, let me take a look at that. It hurt at all? God, I wish you wouldn’t do this kinda stuff when I’m not here to help you out. What if it knocked you off your feet and I was stuck at the office?”

Cold hands that felt like home tilted your head from side to side. 

“Buck, I’m fine. Just a little bump on the head. You know how much worse these things can look. I just need to clean it up a little and it’ll be good as new.” 

“I get home and see my girl bleeding and, I’m sorry, but I’m not gonna believe that you’re fine.” 

If you thought hard enough, you could feel the imprint of his soothing hands on your face. The coldness after he got home from work that didn’t leave your skin prickling, but instead reached through you and trickled into your bones in the most comforting way possible. It felt like a gentle sort of reminder that he was there, that he was the feeling you would never be able to experience without him. Your next breath burned. 

“Brock sent the private jet, so no one has to look at your… state other than the pilot.” 

You were numb to his words, still reminiscing on Bucky, trying to feel him when he wasn’t there. Maybe you had enough memories to last you a lifetime. Maybe you would be able to live out this awful, angry life solely on the thought of him, on the way your skin replayed his touch. 

“You’ll speak when I talk to you,” Beck sneered. It was beginning now, it seemed—the new normal. “I don’t care if you don’t love me. I expect you to play the role of the good little wife, or I’ll be sure to live up to my promises.” 

Your resolve was slipping. “Yes, Quentin.” He always liked when you called him that in public. It kept up the appearance of a relationship with secret intimacies and love. Nothing like when you called Bucky James. Tired tears lazily fell down your cheeks at the thought. 

He finally looked up from his phone, taking a moment to size up your broken frame as you cried silent tears against the wall. “Good.” 

And then he went right back to typing.

Your head was beginning to throb, an unkind accompaniment to the sharp pain that began to form when Beck struck you again. You focused on the rhythmic nature it had, the way it followed the beat of your heart and sunk into the crevices behind your eyes. Your eyes were closed now. 

Beck finally stopped pacing and took a seat on the dusty couch in the living room. The silence that followed was a welcome one, and the stillness under your fingers as you pressed them to the wooden floor allowed you a wicked sort of peace, because at least he was settled and not looming over you as he would be for the rest of your life.

And it was almost imperceptible, but a humming vibration began to replace his once unbearable footsteps. For a moment, you thought the feeling was something your groggy mind had conjured up, but then the feeling started to visibly shake your fingers as well, and you knew you weren’t that far gone. 

The vibrations were soon paired with the sound of an engine, and stones took the place of your stomach. You could taste the dread on your tongue like a sour balm that assaulted each one of your tastebuds, and your mouth twisted up at the phantom taste. You would take endless brutal words and heavy-handed touches if it meant you weren’t able to recognize the engine that was closing in on the cabin at a pace that was slowly killing you. 

That engine was usually associated with gas station food and Bucky’s hand on your leg as he drove you to some town in some state that you barely paid any attention to. When you heard that low rumble it was right after the man in plaid that you loved so much had tugged on the tough-palmed gloves and hauled out lumber with men you would never meet. It meant a kiss before he backed out of the parking lot and a sweet, well-meaning arm helping you down from the tall seat before he ushered you home for the night. 

It meant Bucky. 

And in this moment, you never wanted to hear something less. 

“What the hell is that?” Beck muttered under his breath, unaware of the panic you attempted to hide behind shallow breaths. He whipped his head to you when the sound of a car door echoed past thin-paned windows. “There was nothing on you in the cab. How is someone here?” 

Bucky. Get him away from Bucky. 

“I don’t know,” you stammered. You garnered the strength to stand, using a wooden beam for support. “But—but we can hide. There’s probably a back door we can slip out of. Whoever it is, they’ll think it’s abandoned.” 

“There’s a fucking cab outside, y/n. It’s obvious—” 

“Hey! Anyone in there? I just wanna talk!” 

Oh. 

Bucky wasn’t just here. He was looking for a direct confrontation. You eyed the pocket knife sticking out of the waistband of Beck’s jeans and bit the inside of your cheek until you tasted a coppery twang. 

“Beck, c’mon. We can—” But instead of leaning into your grip as you tugged him toward the hall of the cabin that’s walls seemed to be closing in on itself, his eyes flashed with a dangerous rage, a recognition you so desperately did not want to see. 

“That him?” he spit out, fingers prying your vice-like grip from his arm. “That your little boyfriend?” 

Your response was a panicked mess. “No—I don’t know. Couldn’t be. There’s no way he would know where we were, just like you said.” 

A frustrated sound ripped from the back of his throat, and you were shoved behind the wall between the front door and the window. “Stay. here.” 

Chest rising and falling with a rapidness unfamiliar to you, you pressed against the ridges of the wooden wall and watched as Beck threw on a fake smile and opened the door. Bucky would know it was him immediately; you’d shown him a few pictures of Beck from the articles on your family’s fundraisers. But maybe Bucky would be smart about this and pretend not to know him. Maybe Bucky would save your heart some pain and return back to his truck in one piece. 

“Oh, hey man. You new to this area? My dad owns the land a few miles down and we haven’t had anyone occupy this house in years.” 

Lies, lies, lies. 

Bucky’s dad hadn’t owned any land at the bottom of the mountain. What was his game here? 

Unknowingly, Beck fell into it. “Nice to meet you, buddy.” With one foot out the door, Beck offered Bucky his hand. You could hear the way Bucky’s boots scuffed on the porch. “Yeah, I bought the place off of my aunt’s family. Thinking of turning it into a nice winter home.”

You held your breath. Bucky was so close to you; you were just a single step away from falling into his arms and listening to the sweet way he would whisper in your ear. You caught a reflection in the metal of the knife on Beck’s waist and let that thought dissipate in the warmed air. 

“Nice, nice.” Bucky didn’t sound like himself. “Hey, look. I got an issue with my truck and I don’t think it’ll make it all the way back up the mountain. Think you could give me a hand with that?” 

Beck’s posture shifted. What was once a feigned confidence crumbled in on itself, just slightly, until you caught an almost invisible twinge in his right shoulder. You bit the other side of your cheek. No blood this time. 

“I don’t know, buddy. I’m not really one for cars. Never been much good at fixing them up. I’ve been to more mechanics than I can count, if I’m being honest.” 

You heard a creak from the porch, and then Bucky’s voice sounded deeper. “That why you took a cab?” 

Within a moment, the air felt colder. You were facing the fireplace before, your panic heated by the crackling logs surrounded by dusty bricks. It was a small living room, so even as you stood prone to the far wall by the front door, the heat sunk into your skin. 

But then you were pulled, then spun, then pressed against someone at an uncomfortable degree, and the air felt cold.

Even colder was the sharp metal held at the soft skin of your neck. 

The coldest thing was the feeling in your chest when you pried your eyes open and saw the devastation and fear on Bucky’s face. 

He was wearing his plaid overcoat today. You had missed it at the diner earlier, the material most likely thrown in the corner of the booth or tossed carelessly over a chair. Thinking about him putting his arms through each sleeve and fixing the collar before he came to save you made a simple kind of joy inch its way into your heart. It wasn’t the time for that, but it would be something you could hold onto later. Once you were miles and miles away from Stowe Mills and Bucky was safe. 

Lips by your ear made you recoil, but the action only pressed you further into the knife. You reared back just as quickly. “I took a cab because I needed a reason for this pretty thing to get in my car. Figured with a brooding hunk such as yourself as her constant shadow, I’d need a decoy. Bucky.” 

You opened your mouth before anyone else could. “Beck, we don’t need to do this, okay? If we just—” 

“You don’t speak unless I tell you to,” he grunted at you, yanking your hair back to expose your neck fully. 

You couldn’t see Bucky very well, but you heard him as he rushed forward and demanded, “Don’t do that to her. I swear to fucking god, you keep touching her like that and you’re gonna wish you were a dead man.”

There was a struggle occurring on the porch that wasn’t tangible. Like two of the same poles of a magnet repelling each other the more they came together. Bucky would inch forward, and Beck would press the knife at a new, intimidating angle. So Bucky would step back. His hands were always raised, as if that would be the reason why Beck didn’t just kill you now. His hands had solved many of your life's problems, but this would not be one of them. 

Beck’s chuckle rumbled through your back. A tear escaped the corner of your eye. It felt warm when paired with the mountain breeze. 

The deep vibrations turned into words. “You think I’m scared of some small town boy with too much time on his hands? I’ve got some news for you, buddy—this girl right here?” A tug at your hair. Another reach from Bucky. “She’s not the type you do all this for. Little y/n is the type you use. She’ll do anything if you tell her you love her, won’t you, honey?” 

A sob fell from your lips when Beck's nose brushed your cheek. You’d do anything to make this be over.

“Don’t—” Bucky started through gritted teeth, but he seemed to correct himself. He calmed down. You blinked another tear away and finally met Bucky’s gaze through a deep breath. His jaw ticked. His eyes looked fleetingly down at your neck and you could see the breath he let out from his nose.

Bucky placed a relaxed hand in his coat pocket. 

“You noticed that too?” 

What? 

The grip on your hair loosened for a fraction of a moment. “What the fuck are you talking about?” Beck questioned, and you could tell by the inflection of his voice that he had no idea what his next move was. 

Bucky rolled his shoulders back. “I thought it was just somethin’ she did for me, but now I can see it’s a pattern for her. Probably has to do with her parents, right?” 

It felt like getting punched in the gut. Beck had a knife to your neck and your hair in a vice and somehow Bucky’s words hurt more. You furrowed your brows and blinked impossibly fast to clear your vision. 

Bucky looked back at you—directly in the eye. His fingers twitched at his sides. 

From beside you, Beck let out a whistle. “Well, I’ll be damned. Weren’t you just begging on your knees for this guy a few minutes ago? And look at him now—making fun of you right to your face.”

You struggled against his hold, the embarrassment and the fear and the agitation of the knife against your skin all becoming too much. You just wanted this to be over. Why couldn’t Bucky just stop this ploy, whatever it was. 

“Ah ah ah,” Beck reprimanded. “You think just because your little boyfriend admits that you’re annoying I’m gonna let you go? I wasn’t born yesterday.” He smiled up at Bucky. Bucky looked strained. “Do go on.”

“Well I mean, she told me that everyone kept that big secret from her forever. Said that her parents were never really interested in anything she did until you came along.” He bounced on the balls of his feet, just once. “So I figure, maybe she just latches on to whoever… does that for her, you know?” 

“Interesting theory, but you just about bought yourself a death sentence, Buddy.” 

“No.” You fought harder against him now, pushed at his arms and kicked your feet back until his wrist ricocheted back and the corner of the knife nicked your neck. The pain was imperceptible, but Bucky’s reaction wasn’t. 

At the first sight of blood, all nonchalance was erased from his demeanor. Bucky surged forward, thick arms jutting out to rip you from Beck’s hold. You didn’t have time to question why he didn’t do that sooner; the sound of bodies colliding into the rickety cabin only registered once you’d hit the ground where Bucky once stood. 

“Fine, you wanna do this the hard way?” Bucky seethed. “You touch my fucking girl and I’m gonna have to do this the hard way.” 

The size difference between the two men was jarring. Bucky towered over Beck, yes, but it was the sheer space that Bucky took up that shocked you. He reared back and slammed Beck against the wall of the house again, pure fury in his gaze that you could not see. 

And it must be terrifying—the look Beck was witnessing. Because for the first time in your life, you saw fear on Beck’s face. It was quickly masked with an indifferent arrogance once Bucky stopped his assault, but you saw right through it. “You wanna kill me, Bucky? Go ahead. Kill me. There’s about fifteen other people in New York City alone that want that girl dead. I’m the only chance she’s got at living past 30. We’ve had her general location for months, we were just waiting on a pinpoint—a confirmation. We’ll always find her. And now we’ll find you, too.” 

Bucky hauled Beck’s unwilling body to the outer rim of the porch. From your place on the ground, you could see their side profiles as silhouettes, backed by the headlights of the lumber truck. Puffs of white breath billowed out between them. Bucky gritted his teeth and laughed.

“You? You really expect me to believe that you’re the leader of somethin’ like that? Must not be a very good leader if you’ve spent months searchin’ for one girl. Kinda pathetic when you think about it.” 

The fear on Beck’s face was replaced by rage. A clatter left you breathless as the pocket knife went clattering to the ground. You stumbled forward to grab it and shuffled back just as quickly. He was disarmed, as easy as that. Beck never was one to keep his head when he was insulted; a man of pride, through and through. 

“You’re a fucking dead man, Barnes,” Beck struggled through an uncomfortable grimace. He pushed harder against Bucky’s hold, but to no avail. “They’re going to hurt you worse than anyone we’ve dealt with. And they’re gonna do it to her first. Make sure you sit through it all. She’s real pretty when she screams, promise.” 

The sound of air being forced from his lungs was audible as Bucky knocked Beck harder against the railing of the porch. “No one’s gonna touch her. You don’t have that kinda pull anyway. I know a weak man when I see one.” 

Bucky’s plaid coat was ripped. Beck gritted out, “I’m the fucking leader, you prick. I want someone dead and I got half of New York asking me where to do it. I know just where they’ll do it to you, too. Have them take you both back to the place I almost finished that one off.” Beck nodded to you on the ground. 

“You don’t look at her,” Bucky commanded. He sounded eerily calm. 

Beck simply laughed. “I spent years looking at her. Trust me, I’m done with it. But I’ll have the entire mob breathing down her neck in just a few days.” 

With that, Bucky released Beck. He pushed him away and left him toppling over the three steps that lead up to the porch, and he simply watched as the other man fought for his breath in the wood chips below the awning. 

“What?” Beck huffed, still with that arrogance as he struggled to remain collected. “Finally decide that she wasn’t worth it?” 

“No.” 

Bucky took a single step back when Beck stood, as if making sure that you were securely behind him. He let his right arm fall back and positioned his body so that you were completely out of view. 

“No,” he reiterated. “You just finally solved the Cold Case. And on video too.” 

The beaming headlights that had illuminated the struggle up until now increased tenfold. They were blinding, washing out Beck’s desperate move to cover his eyes and his jerky movements as he panicked. If someone was in the truck, he was completely outnumbered. 

As expected, Steve and Sam slammed the door to the front just moments after the lighting changed. And then the back opened as well. And then there was shouting. 

“On the ground, now!” 

It startled you, the yelling and the commotion on the ground below the porch. Your mind was still in a daze and your fingers were still shaking around the cold, rigid pocket knife and you weren’t sure, but you thought you might’ve been going into shock. You felt cold, but your skin was growing clammy. Breaths got harder to take in, until they didn’t, and then they breezed through your lungs too easily and at a pace you didn’t find pleasant. You were trembling, the lights were too bright, nothing made sense—

“Hey, sweet girl. Hey.” Bucky. You blinked, and the hands you had been aching for delicately brushed across your cheeks as a soft voice assured you, “You’re safe now. Look at me, y/n, I’m right here.” 

You could definitely be imagining things. Beck had hit you in the head quite a few times and you remembered how badly you wanted this exact moment as you lied on the cabin floor breathing in old dust. Maybe this Bucky in front of you wasn’t real. Maybe you were dead and this was—

“Look at me, baby. Please. It’s me, it’s James. I’m gonna keep you safe now, okay? I just need you to tell me you’re alright.” 

Imagination or not, the sadness in Bucky’s voice was too gut wrenching to not listen to him. So you shifted your eyes away from the man in your nightmares being hauled away, and you looked at your Bucky. He had a bruise forming on his right cheek and a cut just above his eyebrow and you were suddenly very aware that you must’ve missed a lot of the fight from earlier as your body went into a state of panic. 

“I don’t understand,” you croaked. The first words you had spoken in forever. In years maybe. 

Bucky’s expression crumbled. “I know. I know, I’m so sorry, y/n. But I had to say those things. They were part of the plan, originally, to get him to talk sooner but I’d already screwed it up when I threatened him right off the bat. I was just losing it seeing you there like that. I shoulda known I couldn’t switch gears on the guy.”

He was talking too fast and his fingers were too gentle on your face. Your eyes drooped a few times and you struggled to keep them open long enough to get out, “Not… that. I don’t—I don’t understand what’s going on. Who are those people?” 

Bucky sat back on his calves and tugged you into his lap, encasing you in his arms, holding onto you as if it was the only thing keeping him grounded. His touch trailed down to your neck where he brushed over the cut there, and then they came back up to feel around at your head.

Taking inventory. Making sure you weren’t about to go limp in his arms. 

The sound of tires on loose rocks didn’t make you raise your head from Bucky’s chest. 

“Steve got mad at his Ma one summer after we graduated. Left to join the army for a while to prove some point like the punk he is.” His hands stopped assessing you. He dropped a lingering kiss on your forehead. It hurt less. “He made it big time over there. Became a captain and gained a lot of connections. Like big connections. Let’s just say there are people above the police that’ve been looking into this for a while.” 

He began rocking you when the shock started wearing off, when the tears stuck in the back of your eyes thawed and the pain in your body bloomed. 

“All they needed was a lumber truck dashcam and someone threatening my girl.” 

You wept. Burrowed into Bucky’s chest, rocking in his arms, you wept and you choked on air and you cried so hard that you couldn’t even register the comfort that his scent would usually bring you. Bucky shushed you almost instantly, cooing words of love and adoration into your hair as you released every emotion you’d ever felt into his plaid coat. 

You were happy, and then you thought you were going to die, and then you thought you were living through hell, and now you had Bucky. And Bucky had fixed everything. He had fixed everything and then he had apologized for words spoken to a man that held a knife to your throat. 

You could live a thousand lives, do a thousand good deeds, and you would never deserve him. 

“My sweet girl,” Bucky sighed. You thought you heard a siren in the distance. Sirens were unnecessary this far up the mountain. “You’re okay now. I got you. I love you and I got you. Always.” 

“I’m so sorry, Bucky. I didn’t want to leave. He just said that he was going to hurt you and I thought that if I—” 

Bucky gripped your chin softly between his fingers, eyes boring into yours with a fierceness you were sure Beck witnessed earlier. “You don’t apologize for anything you had to do today, or any day, when it comes to that man. You hear me? You being alive is the only thing I care about. We’re gonna get you checked out at a hospital and then we’re gonna get that man put in prison and then it’s me and you.” 

“Me and you,” you repeated, simply because that was the one thing you could hold on to. 

He kissed you before the ambulance showed up. He kissed you as you sat in his lap and the tears on your cheeks wet his skin when he held you even closer. 

He didn’t leave your side when the paramedics checked you out in the back of the van. Bucky held your hand when the flashlight was shoved in your eyes and he squeezed your fingers when they told you that you had a concussion. When your words got lost behind tears, Bucky spoke them for you. And when the men in suits rounded the ambulance with notepads and stern faces, Bucky told them no, they could talk to you after you had some time to yourself. 

Steve was needed for that conversation. The men in suits listened better that way. 

The men in paramedic uniforms did not listen to Bucky when he told them they didn’t need to stitch up the cut on his face. The interaction almost made you laugh. Almost. 

When the ambulance shut its backdoors with you inside and Bucky sitting on the bench that was much too small for him, you closed your eyes. “Y/n, you can’t go to sleep.” Calloused, familiar hands ran up and down your arms. “Baby, you gotta keep your eyes open.” 

You briefly wondered if the concern in Bucky’s tone would be permanent. You opened your eyes just in case it would be, lashes fluttering until his beautiful face was all you could focus on. 

“There’s my girl,” he smiled. It was a sad smile. 

But despite it all, everything felt okay. 

[mochikage]

first fight ~ kakashi h.

note: hokage kashi doesn’t appreciate you enough..i’m sick so if nothing makes sense pls just pretend this never happened <3 suggestive language is used.

An annoyed huff escapes your lips when you place the final plate on the table. Today would mark the sixth consecutive day that Kakashi is late. 

He’s overworked himself day after day, coming home with slow blinking eyes and barely exchanging more than just a ‘hello darling’, a half-hearted peck on the cheek, and a quiet dinner. Most of the time he would push the food around on the plate, his appetite long gone, lost underneath all the stress he carries on his shoulders. 

A click! at the front door makes your posture straighten. Hands flatten down the front of your apron when you stand. You head towards the door to greet your husband. Before your lips could pucker out for a kiss, Kakashi has moved past you and is making his way upstairs. No hello kiss?

“Kashi, I made eggplant miso soup.” You call out from the bottom of the stairs. He doesn’t stop.

“Not now.”

“You should at least take a plate with-“

“I said no.” He calls over his shoulder and disappears around the corner. 

Shoulders deflate when you hear the bathroom door close and the shower start. 

His day must have been horrible if he blew you off like that. No glance in your direction. Not to mention that there was always a kiss, even if just a peck. 

He doesn’t come downstairs after the shower either. You waited at the table with his plate still served, wondering what could be bothering him this much for him to not even greet you properly. 

When you hear the door of the office open and close, you know he’s not coming down to you. It’s not a problem, you’ll just go to him. The plate is warmed up once more before you go upstairs. 

A fist knocks three times on the door. No response. Eyebrows pinch together, patience grows thin. Knuckles knock two more times and the irritation only grows when he ignore you again. 

You balance the plate of food in your arms and slowly open the door. Kakashi’s hunched over some papers on his desk. For the first time that night, he glances at you. Its brief, lasts only a mere second--if that-- before he looks back down. He doesn’t move. Doesn’t speak. 

This isn’t like your husband. Any other time his chair would have scooted back and his arms would’ve stretched out to you, beckoning you to come sit on his lap while he worked. 

“Kakashi what’s wrong?” 

“I’m busy.” He answers, but you wish he would’ve had the decency to look at you while doing so. 

“You should eat. I brought you-“

“I’m busy.” He repeats, tone harsher this time. 

You roll your eyes and turn around, tongue caught between your teeth to refrain from snapping at your husband. The last thing you want is to start a fight when he’s like this. A hand wraps around the door handle before you turn towards him once more. 

“I understand you must be stressed and all but-”

A last attempt to make him feel better falls on deaf ears. He doesn’t even let you finish and for the first time in your relationship, he interrupts you. The first time he interrupts you that wasn’t with a kiss. Its the kind of interruption that gets under one’s skin because of the way it’s done, like the other person doesn’t care to hear what you have to say. 

“That’s the thing, Y/N. You don’t understand. You’re not the Hokage! The whole village doesn’t need your attention every hour of the day. Hell, I don’t need your attention every hour of the day. Stop bothering me about it. I’m fine.” He doesn’t have the decency to look up at you, and you’re partially grateful for it.

Wet, hot tears are forming at your eyes and the anger within you is fading into hurt. Your knuckles loosened their grip on the door. You take one last blurry look at his side profile before you close the door. You take deep breaths, wipe your face with your free hand, and go to the kitchen to clean up. Wasted tears, wasted efforts, wasted food. 

Each ladle of soup that goes into the container brings more tears from your eyes. What were you doing wrong? Were you not doing enough to take the stress off of his shoulders? What else could you possible do? 

Once everything was cleaned up and put away, you decide to go for a walk. That will surely stop the tears. A walk in the peaceful village will help you clear your mind. 

By the time Kakashi signs the second paper, the guilt starts to settle in. He lets out a deep sigh and sets his brush down. What the fuck did I just do? He stands up so fast that the chair scrapes across the floor and hits the wall behind him. He opens the door of his office and calls out your name. Your scent is barely there, and he begins to freak out even more. How could he let you walk out on him like that? Did he even greet you when he came home? Fuck, did he even kiss you?

Kakashi runs downstairs, going down three steps at a time. He reaches the kitchen and the churning of his stomach gets worse. Faint smells of his favorite foods invade his nose. The kitchen is clean, all except for one bowl of soup covered on the stove to keep warm. It’s his comfort meal, and to know that you put in the effort to cook it all day (because you know it tastes better when it’s slowly cooked) without him even asking.... He really fucked up. 

“Y/N?” He calls out again throughout the apartment. His hearts racing in his chest and he makes his way towards the door. He walks out without even thinking to lock it. 

Kakashi takes the high ground, travelling by rooftop as quietly as he could. The moonlight shined bright enough to illuminate his path but was dark enough to conceal him. With each passing minute, he grows more and more anxious. His stomach is twisting with anxiety, not because he’s hungry or stressed. 

No, he hasn’t felt this since he was a child. For the first time in years, he’s scared. Kakashi’s throat burns with bile. Anxiety starts to bubble up from his stomach to his throat and he feels sick.  

He swallows back all the negative feelings bubbling up in him. He’ll find you, he’ll make sure of it. He’s blinking rapidly, pushing back the tears that are forming at his waterline. The last thing he needs right now is blurry vision. The last thing he deserves right now is to cry. 

It’s been nearly an hour since he’s looked for you and he almost gets mad at you for learning to conceal your scent so well. He should be proud. Deciding that maybe you need a moment to yourself, he heads back to your home. He walks through the door and hears movement upstairs. 

Kakashi rushes upstairs and stops when he sees you hunched over your shared bed. He takes a deep breath to calm his nerves. He’s finally found you, now he just has to apologize, but how?

He slowly approaches you, hands itching to reach out to touch you, to hug you. 

“Y/N?” His voice is so soft, so weak. It’s so soft he doesn’t know if you’ve heard him. His eyes are wide with a deep frown set on his lips. You don’t turn around. He sees your shoulders shaking and he knows you’re crying. The worst part of all, was that it was his fault.

He slowly approaches the edge of the bed. He’s not standing too close to you because he knows you like your space when crying. It’s killing him, to see you so hurt and not be able to hold you. 

He reaches a tentative, shaky, hand up to wipe a tear from your cheek. When you turn your face away from him, the anxiety gets worse. His headache is more prevalent now than it was when he got home from work and he realizes the position he’s gotten himself in. He opens his mouth to speak, but your frail voice beats him to it.

“I’m sorry.”

His whole world stops. He can no longer hear his heart beating fast in his chest, or the sniffles that you let out or what you were saying at the moment. He shakes his head, trying to comprehend what the hell was going on.

“I-I was just trying to make you feel better at home…I--I--” You let out through shaky breaths. Kakashi lets his own tears fall down his cheeks. He should be uncomfortable considering he’s never really been so emotionally raw with others but like everything else, things were different with you. Much to his surprise, you wrap your arms around his waist and cry into his chest. Kakashi’s hands immediately go around you and he holds you close to him. Even with you crying in his arms, there’s some sense of relief that you don’t completely despise him. 

You’re both standing there, silently holding each other, silently coming to understand the other. At least, you were starting to understand where he was coming from. You felt awful. Little did you know Kakashi was feeling a whole lot worse than you were.

“I was only-“ You started to apologize again but he placed a hand at the back of your head, gently cradling it.

“Stop.” He begs, surprised that his voice came out steady. “Please, you don’t have anything to apologize about. I’m the one who should be sorry. Shit, Y/N I’m sorry that I was so unappreciative of everything you did. I can’t believe I didn’t see what was right in front of me.” His hand moves down your back, slowly making circles to stop your shaking body. 

“I promise you I will never fault you for my stress again. It was bad enough that I did it this time and I don’t even know where to begin making it up for you. It was wrong of me to bring my stress home from work. And I’m sorry I lost my temper…I honestly didn’t know I was that worked up until it was too late. I handled it in the worst way, and I can’t believe I took it out on you. I’m so, so sorry, darling. Please…” His voice cracks at the last word.

Neither of you say anything, simply holding the other close, quietly comforting the other. Kakashi moves you to lay on the bed. He kisses your forehead and moves his lips to kiss away any more fallen tears, each kiss followed by an apology. He kisses your hands before going to the bathroom and prepares a bath for you, the first action of many that shows how sorry he is. 

His hands massage all the stress and the aches your muscles held throughout the day. He has you talk to him about everything you did and massages your hair in the way you like. You beckon him to join you but he has other plans. 

“Rinse off, I’ll be back.” 

While you’re wrapping yourself up in a towel, Kakashi swallows his dinner, cleans up the kitchen downstairs, and makes you a hot chocolate. He brings it upstairs and sets it down on your bedside table. He pulls you into his arms, still in your towel and kisses your forehead with one last apology. His lips move down your face as his apologies turn into praises for you. 

It’s safe to say he doesn’t finish his work that night. 

[samuel-de-champagne-problems]

De(railed) +18

Summary: The canon episode "Derailed" reimagined where Reader is sent on the solo interview and Spencer, recklessly, decides to save her. Plus, the aftermath.

CW: mommy kink sub! Spencer x dom! female (she/her) reader, cum play, penetrative sex, light degradation, praise kink, light choking (mentioned), edging, calling him a slut (please let me know if I missed anything)

Word Count: 6 K (this is the longest thing I've ever written!)

Author's Note: Special thank you to @shemarmooresfedora for reading this for me because I was very nervous about the smut portion. And a very special thank you to @notanotherreidgirl for inspiring this idea! this was my ask so yeah, this is a little out there for me so be kind (*dips into the shadows*). Also I either really hate or really love this title :)

Taglist: You can join the taglist here!

De(railed)

Sitting on the train, headed towards Virginia for the custodial interview, you tried to remind yourself what Spencer said to you the previous night when you dropped him off at his apartment. You had his hands in yours and you could feel him shake with nerves when he spoke.

He told you that he believes in you. Even when you think that Hotch and Gideon are sending you out to the solo interview too early, Spencer believes in you. If only you’d believe a little bit in yourself, then maybe you’d be able to figure out a way off this train, but an armed man and innocent passengers proves that a little challenging.

The man passes the train up and down and you tell yourself to relax. In hindsight, it seems like a horrible series of events that lead to the man shooting the train attendant. You’ve done your best to keep him calm until the police can see him off the train. Looking outside, you see SWAT, local PD, and FBI lined up 50 yards from the train.

Continuing to wave his gun around the train, the unsub rants about wanting to talk to a higher authority. To yourself, to wish that Spencer was here with you. He’d have figured out exactly what was wrong with the man by now. For less than professional reasons, you’re forever grateful that he’s not here- that he’s safe on the other side of the train.

“He’s out of his mind,” the man holding a bottle of whiskey says, “You gotta do something, lady,” he says, taking a swig of his drink. Your eyes dart to him and back up the doctor, the unsub’s psychologist, looking for a way out.

You breathe deeply, hoping that the BAU would come up with a plan. Knowing FBI protocol, you expect them to try to initiate a line of communication. Glancing over at the unsub, you think that he’ll want to talk to someone who looks like they are powerful. That would be either Hotch or Gideon. Selfishly, you’re grateful that Spencer still looks like an underpaid TA with a toy gun attached at his hip.

“No! Please, don’t hurt me!” the young woman screams, trying to release herself from the man, Ted’s, grip. He releases her, throwing her to the ground when his phone rings.

Gideon.

On the phone with Gideon, the man demands for something to be removed. You can’t hear what he’s saying to the unsub, but you place the little faith you have left into hoping your team can save you.

***

His vest is much too big for him.

That’s all you can think of when you realize Spencer is the “technician” that they’re sending in. His tie and shirt stick awkwardly and there is a gap in his shoulders around the vest. The straps are pulled so tight that they nearly fold over. His hands aren’t shaking when he carries the small black box, but his eyes look terrified.

You want to reach out to him, maybe hold his hand or brush the strands of hair that have fallen into his face, but you can’t. You have to sit there and pretend that this is the first time you’ve met him. It’s excruciatingly sick and mildly amusing in an equally twisted way. The first time you’ve come to terms with loving Spencer, you both can very well die.

“I’m here for the chip,” Spencer says, holding his hands up, “the higher authorities sent me,” he claims, feeding into the unsubs delusion. You shield your glance, unable to trust yourself from launching yourself in between Spencer and the man with the gun.

“That’s far enough and drop your weapons,” Ted says, holding the crying woman by her neck, “and take that vest off. I want to see you,”

“I don’t have any weapons. They don’t authorize them for-”

“I said take it off!” the man shouts, throwing the woman to the ground.

Spencer complies, taking off the much too big vest and tossing it to the ground. He holds his hands up, playing the part of the unsuspecting underling well. He reaches out to Ted, showing him the tools that he’ll use to take out the “chip”. You wonder how Spencer will pull it off, but you know he will in the end.

Spencer digs into the man’s skin with the scalpel. You can’t catch the sleight of hand, but you know that’s what he used.

“I have to leave, the higher authorities need the chip-”

“Turn it on,” Ted orders, “Turn it on!” he screams, his voice booming in the small train.

Spencer’s eyes dart to yours thinking of ways that he can get out of here. He looks almost sorry, and you feel a wave of intense regret. The thousands of times you could have said those little words seem so simple now.

“I can’t turn it on,” Spencer says, “I can’t turn it on,” You hate how scared he sounds, and you hate even more how you have to pretend that you don’t know him.

“Why!” the unsub yells, thrashing the gun around, “You’re one of them!”

Thinking quickly when you see him point the gun at Spencer’s face, you jump to your feet. You push Spencer out of the way, terrified that he’ll do something rash. You can’t lose Spencer, not when you’ve hadn’t had the chance to have him yet.

“It needs to be implanted to be activated,” you say, “I know this stuff Ted, I’m a Fed. Only me. Everyone else,Ted is just innocent. Just let them go, Ted,” you plead, “Just let them go,”

“No!” he yells, shooting up into the ceiling of the train, “no!���

The windows are closed, but you suspect that Hotch and Gideon have the train surrounded by now. Spencer moves closer to you, staring at the man as he scratches his upper arm. He drops his hand towards yours and squeezes, like he’s saying sorry and saying goodbye all in one touch. You don’t realize this before it’s too late.

“Doctor Brier,” Spencer says, standing up with his hands near his head, “you’re right, there’s more-”

“Just make it stop!” the desperate man pleas, “Make it stop!”

“I know what it’s like, Ted. The voices, they’ve been talking to you since you were a kid. They don’t stop. I know what it’s like Ted,” Spencer says, inching closer and closer to him, “Leo? Why don’t you let him think for himself?” Spencer says, trying to use the man’s delusion against him.

“Don’t! Stop, you’re trying to trick me!” the man begs, whipping the gun around too close to Spencer’s face, “stop!”

You always listen to Spencer. Whatever he talks about, you listen. From Russian cinema to Star Trek to the Birch and Swinnerton-Dyer conjecture, you listen to him. It’s not that hard and it’s easy to get lost in his eyes or the way his hands move when he talks. But the seconds leading up to when the gunshot goes off, you’re not listening.

Because without Spencer, there isn’t much worth listening to.

***

Your eyes are squeezed shut so when a large hand hovers over your shoulder you jump at the touch. It takes you all of ten seconds to realize it’s Spencer. You look him over, searching for signs of mortal wounds that will rip him from your clutches, but there isn’t any.

“You’re okay,” you say, wanting nothing more but to kiss him or yell at him, or maybe a mix of the two, “you’re okay,” you repeat, not fully believing it the first time.

“We’re okay,” Spencer says, hugging you tight as you collapse into his arms, not caring if the rest of the team watches.

“I haven’t been fair to you, Spence,” you say, breaking from the hug to caress his face. You stop, holding his face in your hands, soaking him in, “you’re not someone who gets strung along, baby. I fucking love you and you-you mean so much to me. And I hate-I hate that it took you almost dying for me to realize that,” you cry, unable to care anymore.

“You love me?” Spencer whispers, unable, himself to care that they have an audience, “You love me back, but I’m, I-I,”

“Spencer,” you tell him, pausing to kiss him fully, “I,” you plant another kiss, on his right cheek, “love,” left cheek, “you,” forehead.

“You do, don’t you?” he says, looking at you with a proud smirk, “I guess that’s good because, I love you, Y/N. I don’t go risk my life just for everyone,”

“Watch yourself, baby,” you remind him, channeling the surge of pure life that runs through your veins, “you’re in for it later, my darling,” you tell him, whispering into his ear so only he can hear.

***

You didn’t even give him time to breathe before you pushed him up against the wall. Spencer’s hands still held yours, you don’t think that he dropped them since you two safely exited the train. He whimpers through the kiss, his breathy moan only serving to spur you on. His hands broke from yours, clinging to your waist. Spencer tries to peel your clothes from your skin, but he's much too distracted by your lips that travel across his cheekbones and down to his neck. He’s breathless and panting, but you don’t let up. If he’s breathing, he’s alive and that’s all that matters now.

“I’m so sorry, so sorry,” Spencer pleads, the desperation in his voice causing you to pause from your attack on his neck, “I-I, Y/N,” he stutters, feeling empty without your kisses.

“I’m not mad, sweet boy. I’m not mad at you,” you say, laying on a sweet voice as your fingers skim through Spencer’s hair. He’s shaking slightly and closes his eyes, looking like he’s grateful to be alive.

“You’re not, but I wasn’t good,” he whispers, “I wasn’t good for you, Mommy,”

You do everything in your power to keep your composure, but after a day like today, you’re ready to melt into him. He might be the one begging at your feet soon, but there’s no doubt in your mind that it’s you who's wrapped around his finger. He looks up at you, with his back leaning against the wall; his face flushed pink and marks littering his neck.

“You scared me, Spence. I thought- I just let me take care of you,” you request, dropping your hands from his hair and grabbing onto his hand as you lead him to your bedroom. You’ve made it a habit to go to your place after cases; Spencer claims that the sunlight that dips into your bedroom in the morning is more pleasant than his view of the street, but you know he just prefers your bed and the attention he gets at your place.

“Please, Y/N,” he begs, following you into the bedroom. He’s at your heels and burrowed deeply in your heart, exactly where you want him.

You drop his hands, guiding him so his knees hit the edge of your plush bed. He kicks off his shoes and starts to undo his tie and shirt, but you stop him before he gets the chance.

“Let me do that for you, baby. I’m taking care of you tonight,” you say, feeling your heart swell as he looks up at you adoringly, “Mommy’s got you, my brave boy,” you tell him, your fingers grazing over his cheekbones, his nose and eyes. His eyes close as you continue to draw shapeless shapes over his skin.

“Thank you,” he mutters, saying it like a pray as he relaxes for the first time today, “thank you, Mommy,”

You smile at the name, enjoying how pliant he is as you unbutton his shirt and loosen his tie. His flushed cheeks lead down his equally flushed chest. You place both your legs over his body, hovering over him as you straddle him. The proximity eggs him on and the minimal friction near his pants causes him to buck up words. Mercilessly, you chuckle at his attempt to get off. You want nothing more than to put him out of his misery, but watching him squirm for the tiniest bit of affection— your affection makes you nearly as desperate as Spencer.

“Patience, sweetheart,” you tell him, harshly pulling off his shirt as you nibble on his ear. He whimpers out in desire, already unable to form coherent thoughts even though you’ve so much as kissed him.

You stop touching him, sinking down to your knees before him. Spencer looks down at you, his pupils blown and his hair messy from being pushed up against the wall. His breathing is erratic and unmeasured, but he’s heart is still beating. You smile, unafraid and not caring that it breaks character as you give his thigh a squeeze. You bring his hands to his buttons, motioning for him to unbutton his pants for you.

“I can’t do all the work now, can I, baby?” You question rhetorically, quite self satisfied that he nods eagerly. He quickly undoes his pants, kicking the heavy corduroy trousers near your bathroom door. If the moment wasn’t so tense and erratic, you probably would have teased him for his excitement.

“I want to touch you, please? Mommy” Spencer starts, his hands holding your face as you kneel. He holds your face so delicately and gently, it’s a contrast to the sinful way he’s squirming above you.

“Not yet,” you tsk, slipping your finger under the waistband of his boxers. The bulge in his underwear looks very uncomfortable, but Spencer clearly tries his best to behave under your strong stare. You peel back the underwear and let it drop to Spencer’s feet. His cock, now exposed, is painfully hard. He concentrates on his breathing and trying to remain composed as your fingers travel up his leg and towards his groin.

“There’s my pretty boy,” you coo, grabbing Spencer’s jaw and making him look down at you. He lets pitiful whine at your words, “Come on, make my fingers nice and wet,” you order, sticking out two fingers that he sucks enthusiastically.

“What a good little slut I have, you’re sucking Mommy’s fingers just as if it’s my strap, aren’t you sweet boy,” you say, gently resting your other palm loosely around his neck. You don’t apply any pressure, but let it serve as a reminder of what could happen.

Happily, Spencer sucks your fingers, moaning around them and bucking his hips up in frustration. Marred by impatience, you remove your fingers from his mouth and kneel back down on the floor. Loosely, you grip his cock with your wet fingers. Spencer whines at the friction that’s nothing close to enough.

“Tell me how that feels,” you demand, “Tell Mommy how I makes you feel,”

“I-I feel,” Spencer starts, concentrating intently, but unable to truly articulate the passion you ignite in him, “Mommy, you make me feel so good,” Spencer says, finally finding the words, even though they barely scratch the surface.

“That’s all I want, baby. You deserve to feel good. So let me take care of you, my love,” you tell him, watching as he simpers at your words.

For a second there you let yourself think that maybe it’s calling him my love that prompted his reaction, not the promise of his cock in your mouth. You know after tonight there’s no tip toeing around it anymore: you’re unequivocally in love with him and you’re a little disappointed that it took the pair of you nearly dying to figure it out finally.

Looking back up at him, you abandon your plans for a moment. You kiss him hard. Normally, you’d hate the way your teeth clash against someone else’s and how the kiss isn’t really a kiss. It’s hard to pace yourself when he’s whimpering below you as you grind down hard on his crotch. The fabric of your pants provides much needed friction, causing Spencer to cry out in a twisted mix of pleasure and pain. He paws at your work short, silently begging for you to shed your layers as well.

“Good boys wait,” you tell him, kissing his forehead and sinking back down for the last time. You’ll never be done teasing him, but for now you intend to put his needs first.

“Such a pretty cock that only I get to see,” you coo, running a finger up his length, relishing in how he shudders at your touch. You’ve touched him so many times, yet he reacts each time as if it’s the first. He’s leaking precum as his breathing becomes more and more strained. This is far from your first time with Spencer and you’re well aware of the signs of his release.

Smiling up at him, you lazily wrap your hand around him, giving him the smallest bit of friction and attention that he needs to come. You drop him once he’s close to the edge, his pleading, begging eyes turning glazed over when he realizes you’re taking off your shirt. By the way he’s looking at you, you’d think you’d be wearing your best lingerie. Quickly, you’ve learned that with Spencer you could be wearing your ratty college tee shirts and he’d still look at you like you were dripping in gold.

“Mommy,” he pleads, “I’m a good boy,” he says, no trying to convince himself to hold back from his release, “please Mommy. I’m gonna-“ Spencer says, the flush on his face deepening as he throws his head back in ecstasy. However, he summons enough energy and will to reach out and palm your boobs. You don’t hide your moans as he rolls a nipple in between his thumb and pointer finger. It only encourages him, but nowhere can you find in yourself to care.

“I’m sorry, Mommy,” Spencer whimpers, unable to hold himself up anymore and collapsing on the bed. His chest heaves up and down as he tries to collect himself. He comes all over your chest, staining your lavender bralette and looking very proud of himself. Spencer learned quickly as well that coming before you’ve even touched him earns him quite the praise.

“Such a good boy,” you praise, choosing to ignore him coming without permission, “such a messy boy though,” you chastise, squeezing his thigh and crawling your fingers up his chest.

“Mommy, please, I want to make you feel good too. I love you,” Spencer begs, his eyes droopy with exhaustion from the long day and glazed over with his orgasm. His words slur together as if he's drunk off something potent. His eyes meet yours, but flit down quickly. He scans your soiled chest, licking his lips unconsciously as his eyes rank over your breasts covered in the lavender lacy and stained with his cum.

“Do you know what good boys do?” You ask, expecting Spencer to answer the question without hesitation.

“They clean up their mess, Mommy,” he says. In a moment of bravery, he grabs your hand, guiding you to lay down on the bed. He twists his hands around your back, unlatching your bra from your body and tosses it on the ground.

Above you, Spencer lowers his face so his chin barely grazes your chest. His tongue darts out onto your skin, licking up the messy cum that fell on your chest. You place your hands in his hair, gripping firmly. It’s not hard enough to cause any pain, but it’s tight enough to remind him to stay put. Spencer hums contently, lapping up your chest, but keeping his eyes trained on yours. You pull him up by his hair, pieces fall over his blissed out eyes. He smiles up at you, his chin glistening with cum, but looking pleased with himself.

“That’s a good boy,” you praise, pulling him up to kiss him deeply. His tongue swirls around in yours and his large hands cup your face. You can feel him moving in your lap, more and more desperate for attention and friction as you continue to hold him off, “I love you, baby,” you say, hoping that he’ll hear enough times for it to stick and for him to start living his life like he wants to stay alive.

“Just for you, Mommy,” Spencer mumbles, already sucking and marking the valley between your breasts, “Can you? Please?” Spencer asks, still embarrassed, after all these months to put to words his desires.

“What, baby? You need to use your words,” you tell him, scooting up in the bed and smirking to yourself as Spencer practically chases you up the headboard, “You need to tell him what you want me to do, baby,” you say, talking slowly as you rub circles into his skin. He’s still hot to the touch and flushed all over.

“I want to make you feel good,” Spencer begs, licking his fiery red lips that are swollen and bitten from your earlier treatment, “I want you to feel good,” he says, attempting to buck his hips against your legs.

“Are you sure about that, Spence?” you ask, teasing him with your wandering hands. One stays latching in his hair, exposing his criminally bare neck and the other sneaks down to his cock, but hardly satisfies his burning need, “Because it seems like you’re an insolent little slut who only cares if he gets off. Do I need to remind you that I have needs as well,” you chide, increasing your grip on his hair as your lips nip the sensitive skin of his neck. He shudders in response, unable to fully articulate a sentence.

“But you’re lucky, you’re beautiful, Dr. Reid,” you say, dropping his hair and letting his head fall onto your chest. Knowing your expectations, Spencer doesn’t hesitate to kiss and nip along your skin. You feel your panties dampen at the sight of him: his hair wild and messy, his neck marked with evidence of your mouth, and his chest is bright red, somehow still flustered and embarrassed by your affections. You find it bizarre that he still doesn’t fully believe just how head over heels you are for him. He’s too good and pure for this world, and you’ll happily spend the rest of your life reminding him just how deserving of goodness and pureness he is.

“I love you,” Spencer whimpers against your skin, his breath is hot as he pants, “but please fuck me,” he begs, flipping around on his back so you can be on top.

“Don’t worry, sweet boy, Mommy will take care of you,” you remind him, balancing yourself so you can hover over him, “Now, I’d normally want you to be quiet, but I want to hear everything. So use that pretty mouth of yours and tell me how you feel, sweetie,” you instruct, maneuvering yourself so you’re lined up with him.

“Give me a second, please,” Spencer asks, pushing himself up so his back rests against the headboard, “You make me crazy, I just need a moment to think,” he says, quietly, staring off nothing in the bedroom. You take the opportunity to grab his hand, that’s gripping onto your floral patterned sheets, and kiss his scars on his knuckles. Some are new and fresh, while others are old, from longer ago than working at the BAU. You kiss them over, as if your lips are able to help the evidence of his physical pain.

“You make me crazy too, Spencer,” You say, growing more and more unhinged as he moves underneath you, “I love you so much, darling,” you tell him, kissing his eyes, lips, nose, anything you can reach.

Slowly, so slowly, you sink down onto Spencer. You watch his microexpressions, but you know how he’ll react. He squeezes his eyes shut, as if he’s willing himself to hold off. He breathes in and out, teetering on the edge. You wait for his nod, for his sign of approval that you can move. He whines and peeks open his eyes. Spencer’s hands dig into your waist, his strong, large hands searching for any skin to grab onto.

“Please move, Mommy,” Spencer begs, burying his head into the crook of your neck as he starts to plead with you to have mercy on him, “I need it, Mommy,” he moans.

“Don’t be greedy, darling. You’ll take what I give you, but don’t you want to make me feel good too, baby,” you ask, guiding his nimble fingers to your slick core. His thumb and pointer finger begin to rub quick circles around your clit. You bite your lip, trying to keep your composure as you feel the pressure build. Between the heightened tensions of work and Spencer's hot breath against your neck, you know that you’ll come soon. Spencer’s breathy moans get more and more desperate.

“Are you already going to come again, love?” You ask, increasing your pace. His other hand grips your thigh, drawing shapes into your soft skin. Following suit, you match his sweet movements on his cheek. His breath is his shaky as you stroke his cheek lovingly, “Make me come first and then, maybe if you’re good, I’ll let you come inside me,” you promise, already knowing that you’ll let him come inside you.

“Watch you disappear inside me, baby. Watch your pretty cock slip inside my pussy. It’s just like you were made for me, darling,” you cry, your voice getting slightly breathy yourself. You watch yourself as his cock goes in and out, red with overstimulation. Spencer’s eyes, littered with small tears, looks transfixed.

“Fuck,” Spencer says, “I’m so close, Mommy. I-I, you make me feel so good. You’re so beautiful, I-I-”

“So needy, you’re so fucking needy,” you say to him. You can tell he’s growing more and more impatient by the moment. His hands lurch towards your chest, pawing at your boobs. Spencer’s sloppy movements bring you closer and closer to the edge.

“So good, so good,” he repeats, his sweaty forehead rests on your collarbone. You pull him up again his hair, relishing in the pitiful moan that he lets out. It’s raw and pure sin, it should make you want to fuck him more, but it only makes you want to love him more.

You’re drunk on him. Drunk on his moans and whimpers of pleasure. You’re drunk on the way his skin sticks to yours and how his hands roam around your body, always finding a spot on your torso and legs that makes you approach the edge closer and closer. You wonder, for a second, if you’re being too hard on him. If you should just whisper that little sentence and let Spencer feel the wave of pleasure.

“I need it, Mommy,” Spencer pants, kissing lined up your chest and collarbone. His face is pressed up against your face and moves up and down as you continue your pace, “I-I, Mommy, I want you to-”

“What do you want, baby? Hmm? Tell Mommy?” You ask, your voice sounding sickly sweet. The noise of moans fills the room, Spencer’s moan akin to whimpers and whines and your’s more like praises and words of approval, “you’ve been such a good boy, baby I’ll give you want whatever you want, my love”

“Please, please let me make you come, Mommy. I need you to come, Mommy. I need it,” Spencer whines, looking up into your eyes and latching onto them in the darkness.

It’s sinful how the filthy words contrast with his sweet, shy tones. He looks so innocent, but enthralling with his face between your hands, but his own hands rubbing small circles on your clit. His moans grow more high pitched. You kiss by his ear, ready to whisper the words of approval that you’ve neared your release.

“Oh god, Spencer. God. You have no idea what you do to me. My sweet boy,” you murmur, pressing Spencer’s face further into your chest. You can feel him heave and his breathing grow more and more unsteady, but he still has enough sense to continue rubbing your clit.

You kiss him, wanting to feel him everywhere when you come undone. Kissing him is desperate and full of gasps of air. His skin is so soft as you slide across his mouth, up his cheeks, and over his jaw. His helpless moans spur you on, giving you the strength and energy to thrust down on him another time before you feel yourself come undone.

“It’s your turn, baby. Come on, sweetheart. Come inside me and maybe I’ll have to call you daddy? Hmm?” you chant, halting your movements to torture him a little longer.

“Please, Y/N. Please let me fill you up,” Spencer begs, his voice hoarse and scratchy from being so vocal, “I’m yours. I love you so much,” he calls out, wrapping his arms around you so your chests are pressed up together. He holds you sweetly and you kiss his shoulders and his neck, choosing to leave a large red welt as a reminder for him.

“You like that? Hmm you like if I call you Daddy and let you fill me up? Come on, Spencer. You can come. Don’t you want to be a good boy for Mommy?,” you say, giving him the permission that he’s been desiring all night.

He tightens his grip on your upper half as he meets his release. Spencer’s strangled moans turn into sweet whimpers as he looks down into your laps. Quietly, you ride him through the rest of his orgasm, letting him come down from his high peppered with light pecks along his freckled shoulders and sharp jawline. Spencer smiles into the kisses, his eyes are shut and his cheeks are dusted with a light pink flush. For the first time today, he looks relaxed and safe.

“Thank you, Mommy,” Spencer says quietly, mirroring your motions and kissing your shoulders and neck as you slow your pace, “Can we stay like this. Just for a moment,” Spencer asks, burning for the feeling of being inside you for even a couple more minutes.

“Of course, baby,” you tell him, squeezing him into a tight hug, “you did so wonderful for me. Such a good boy. I love my sweet boy,” you tell him, brushing the stray hairs from his face. His neck is marked by your mouth and his eyes are glazed with sleep and desire.

“I love you,” Spencer says again, his forehead falling against yours and his breath hitching as you move slightly with him inside you, “and I’m sorry. I’m sorry about today,”

“Let’s get you cleaned up, sweetheart and then we’ll talk about it,” you suggest, taking the opportunity to kiss his lips as you pull yourself away from his lap.

Spencer doesn’t say much in response, but nods silently. He groans slightly as you separate your bodies and he tries to chase your lips with his as you climb out of the bed and into your bathroom.

“Please come back,” Spencer says, sounding like he wasn’t sure if you’d keep your promise.

“I’m right here, Spence,” you reassure him, returning from the bathroom dressed in an old tee shirt and carrying a warm, damp washcloth and a pair of clean underwear for Spencer.

“Can you please hold me? Please, Y/N. I need you,” Spencer says, reaching out to you in the dark. That’s one request you know you’d never deny.

“Of course, Spence. Just let me clean you up and I’ll hold you,” you tell him, gently dragging the warm towel over his skin. He’s quiet as you clean him up, but his soulful eyes look lost and sheepish, making him look smaller and more vulnerable than he actually is. You drop the towel to the floor, not caring that the water isn’t good for the floor.

You lay back down on the bed and Spencer, like a magnet to another magnet, crawls in close. He’s still undressed, except for the underwear that you gave him. His eyes are droopy and his breathing is still shaky, but steadies out as your hands draw circles on his back. You pull the covers up to his chin, making sure he’s covered before you start what you know all too well is a difficult conversation.

“Spencer,” you croak, “Why did you do that? Why do you think that’s okay?” you ask, still trying to make sense of why Spencer would risk his life like that so recklessly. You hold him tighter, squeezing his arm as he breathes out, ready to tell you what he’s never told anyone before.

“Bec-, because- I don’t matter,” he says, the words choking out between cries of years and years of pain, “because it doesn’t matter to anyone if I don’t come home. I don’t have anyone to come home to,”

“You’ve always had me,” you say quietly, “I’m your person to come home with, Spence,” you tell him, hoping with all the faith in your body that he’ll believe you. You hold his hand, weaving your fingers in his. Looking at your hands intertwined together, you’d think that your hand was made for it. It’s a little cliche, but Spencer is the kind of man that makes all those cliches seem like wonderful possibilities.

“I-I, I never had someone before,” Spencer says, “I mean, I had my mom, but it’s gotten harder. But then, then, I met you. And I never thought you’d like me like that, Y/N. I never thought you could love me,”

“Spencer,” you say, twisting around so you can hold his face in your hands, “Spencer, I love you. You are so much more than your job. You’re worthy of being loved, Goose. And I’d spend the rest of my life making you realize this”

“You want to spend the rest of your life- the rest of your life with me?” Spencer asks, sounding like he can’t believe the words that you say.

“Spence, I’ve loved you since I’ve known you,” you say, dragging your hands through his curly hair that’s matted against his forehead, “You would have realized that if you weren’t too carried away with making me your future history,”

“I think I have a habit of doing that,” Spencer confesses, kissing your forehead sweetly, “You’re- I’m sorry that I worried you like that, but for so long, for so long this is all I’ve had. And before that it was school. I throw myself into academia or work because it’s all I had,”

“Had,” you repeat, “as in the past tense. You’ve had some much more than too, Spence. We all love you. Elle and Derek. JJ and Hotch. Penny and Gideon. We all love you, but I love you the most,”

“Good,” Spencer replies, turning his head down to kiss you, “because I love you the most,”

His lips glide across yours, moving slowly at first and faster as he grows more urgent. There’s no sense in rushing through. You could kiss him lazily in your bed all night and continue until it gives way to morning. There’s no time limit, no buzzer that’s going to go off and force Spencer to whole himself back up into his past. He smiles through the kiss, knowing well that there’s more to come tomorrow, or maybe even tonight. His lips were warm and soft, maybe still a little tender from before, but still eager to feel your lips against his. Breathing together, savoring that you both are breathing, you smile yourself, fully ready for whatever comes next.

***

Taglist (not my usual taglist because I don't want to make anyone uncomfortable bc this is smut. You can join the taglist here!)

@shemarmooresfedora @just-another-persona123 @folkreid @idonotexiste @pastelbabygirl19 @reidsbookclub @fandomfriend33 @spencersrose @strawberryspence

[lebenspurpur]

What about how would slashers propose their s/o? :3

How would the slashers propose:

Michael Myers

Michael wouldn't.

As funny as that sounds, I'm pretty sure Michael doesn't understand marriage and its concept at all.

After all.. who'd marry you? A deranged serial killer and his spouse.. pretty difficult to find a priest for that kind of couple.

If anything, he'd propose to show that he cares. Michael isn't the best at showing emotions and a proposal would be his personal way of showing that he does adore you.

It would probably be nothing big though. He'd just hand you a stolen ring and then march off, leaving you alone with your confusion.

Are you ever getting married? Probably not but he'll wear a ring similar to yours if you'd like.

Vincent Sinclair

Oh, Vincent will try his hardest to be as romantic as he can be.

Dozen of candles, hundreds of roses, and he'll actually wear an old suit he found in Bo's wardrobe!

His brothers will be out of town, driven out by your big lover.

He'll make dinner for you. It might taste a little interesting, considering his below-average cooking skills, but hey the idea alone is so adorable.

After dinner, he'll sink down on one knee and you just freeze.

He's super nervous too! What if you don't want to marry him? What if he's too fast and you're not ready for that commitment yet?

The ring will be from a victim but he polished and perfected it himself. He'll design it like his knives, dragons wrapping around the gemstone in the middle.

As soon as that "yes" leaves your lips, he inflates, probably ready to pass out.

Bo Sinclair

Bo.. doesn't necessarily want to marry.

But he wants to spend the rest of his life with you, that's for sure.

You're something he doesn't deserve and yet you're here, with him.

Bo won't be as romantic as his twin, that's not really his strategy.

He'll most likely blurt out his proposal while he's watching TV and make it seem like the most normal thing ever, even though he's frightened on the inside.

If you ask him what he said, he'll repeat it real quietly and you swear he's turning red.

Say yes and Bo will actually flash a big grin, a real one, not his usual smirk, finally pulling you closer to seal his lips with yours.

He can't believe someone would marry him but you wanted to, and he'd always deem that a miracle.

Lester Sinclair

Oh god, Lester will be so nervous.

He has everything: the ring, a nice suit, a romantic dinner but what if he fucks it up?

He even wrote a note containing a few words of his "speech" so he won't forget it.

So it's after dinner and he kneels down, nearly tripping on his open shoelace, and.. uh fuck what'd he want to say???

He can't find his note! Lester is now panicking.

Your reassuring smile grounds him again and he somehow manages to finish his proposal without fainting. How? Lester doesn't know, he has no recollection of what happened.

The ring will be from a victim but he got Vincent to make it prettier. He feels really bad about it as well, please tell him that that's okay!

Baby Firefly

Oh, Marriage? A big, pretty white dress? Sign her the fuck up.

Okay, being with you for the rest of her life is really nice as well.

She's probably talking to Mama when the subject first emerges and she just freezes in excitement.

She's soon skipping down the stairs, calling out your name.

"Y/N LET'S GET MARRIED!"

You don't even have a choice, she will marry you whether you like it or not.

I doubt that she'll even ask you the question, it'll just be a determined "We're getting married." and she's gone again, probably planning for the wedding.

A ring will be there though. She probably stole it but oh well.

Otis Driftwood

Marriage? *Insert him scoffing.*

Yeah no, he's too edgy for that.

However, he is down to invent his own kind of marriage for you.

But you're not getting a ring, oh no.

Otis is showing up with a collar. And it has his name on it.

After he's given it to you, he'll just hold a 15-minute speech about how you belong to him and how this collar will show everyone.

If you say yes afterward he'll be confused. This wasn't a question.

Billy Loomis

Oh Billy has it all planned out... and it can go both ways.

It's either a super romantic, high-school sweetheart-like proposal with flowers, a cute ring, balloons, and all that boring stuff or...

He dresses up as Michael Myers and jumps out at you, scaring you to death, just to hold a ring and propose to you.

I can see him totally scaring the shit out of you the whole evening just to make your proposal a special one.

Stu also helps him which makes you question which of the two you're really marrying.

Stu Macher

Stu will propose in his own way, to be frank, everything he does is done in his own way.

He'll be quite sweet actually, taking you out on a Ferris wheel to ask the question.

He's serious about the whole thing but he doesn't quite show it.

He makes it seem as if this whole thing does nothing to him so you can't see how nervous he is.

After you say yes he'll still act cool but the shake in his voice gives him away.

If you cry, he'll tease you for years so be careful.

Brahms Heelshire

The only idea Brahms has of proposal and marriage is from the books he's read. And those are either porn magazines or some old romance novels from way before our time.

He'll wear a suit. You don't even know where he got it from, it's astonishingly old.

There's no dinner or anything, Brahms can't cook and after all, that's your job.

He'll give you flowers though!

And his grandmother's proposal ring that he found somewhere in the mansion. He just can't buy his own so he has to improvise.

If you say yes he'll smile excitedly and jump into your arms. He's not getting off too, you have to carry him now.

Sometimes he forgets how tall he is.

Thomas Hewitt

Thomas will marry you pretty early into the relationship.

After all, his family is very religious and you know what they say, no sex before marriage kids. I doubt that Thomas will obey that rule but let's pretend-

Luda will help him with everything he needs, she'll even get Hoyt and Monty to leave the house with her for a night so you two have some privacy!

Thomas will be very nervous and you very confused. Thomas never stopped working unless it was something important.

You'll eat and have a nice time, you can finally spend some time with your lover and this time, not in the basement. He even takes his mask off, just for you.

After dinner he'll clear his throat and actually say the whole proposal out loud. This is important and Thomas doesn't want to ruin this just because he doesn't want to talk.

He could never ruin anything but he's insecure like that.

If you say yes he's going to grin brightly and just pick you up, spinning you around until he actually kisses you, once again feeling so grateful for you in his life.

Josef

Marriage isn't that important to him so he takes a while to even think about that idea.

Of course, a life filled with you is absolutely amazing in his opinion but he trusts that you won't leave him, with or without a promise binding you to him.

After a bit of thinking, he decides to do it just for the gesture.

He'll buy a ring that he thinks fits and then plan a nice dinner with a few candles, red wine, expensive food, all that shit.

Josef is an amazing cook so that food will be to die for.

After eating, he'll intertwine your hands with his and look into your eyes, quietly bringing up the whole idea of marriage.

If you seem interested and I mean positively interested, he'll pull out the ring, surprising you like always.

Say yes and Josef will get quite emotional, never did he think someone would actually marry him.

He might cry but one word about that and you'll get the silent treatment.

you'll get a gif, as a treat

Amanda Young

Marriage? Uh, not for her.

Amanda hates the whole idea of marriage, stupid love-sick couples marrying just to break up and divorce a year later, leaving children to grow up in an environment that's shaped by isolation and abandonment.

However, she's not against a ring to show that she's never going to leave you.

Amanda will make one for you, yes you heard me, make.

It's so important to her, anyone else but her would fail her.

It takes a while but seeing your happy tears after she gave and explained it to you makes everything worth it.

She'll often admire it, sitting so perfect on your finger.

You're hers and hers alone.

You can't see it but she's smiling.

[mc-lukanette]

Have you considered writing a "Truth" fix-it with Marinette admitting her secret to Luka? Maybe he could be a confidant like Marianne was for Fu.

Truth was having a terrible, awful, rotten, very bad day. If he could use his powers on the universe, he would've asked what he did to deserve this kind of treatment.

It started with his girlfriend keeping a secret from him concerning her ditching their dates, then escalated to Jagged Stone - who'd been his idol for years - turning out to be the father who abandoned him, and now he was fighting Ladybug and Chat Noir in Marinette's room after he’d been told by multiple people that Marinette’s supposed “secret” was that she was in love with Adrien, as if he hadn’t already known that and they just wanted to mock him.

His civilian self had never been never someone to presume, but now it's all he could do. Marinette must've ditched him because she didn't really love him, Jagged probably never even felt bad about abandoning him, and despite Adrien never even trying to win Marinette's heart, he was just better than Luka in every way, because the rich model with all the connections Marinette could ever want would always outmatch the "guitar boy" who worked a part-time job, lived on a houseboat, and had parents who either kept secrets from him or flat-out didn't want him.

Had it not been for his akumatization working to drive him towards a goal without interference, he would've cried. He wanted nothing more than to wake up and think the whole thing was just a bad nightmare, with dating Marinette just being brief highlights of it that kept getting shot down with a reminder that he wasn't good enough.

He wanted it all to be over.

Chat Noir was still trying to banter with him, but Truth wasn't having it. While going after Ladybug first wasn't ideal, as she was the smarter out of the two, it was easier to get rid of Chat Noir and deal with the heroes one at a time.

Thus, when Ladybug had run across the room to use her Lucky Charm, Truth acted. He managed to grab Chat Noir and throw him into the chest that Ladybug had been hiding in before, then locked it tight to prevent Chat from escaping. That done, he went after Ladybug, who was stunned but nevertheless prepared to fight. Chat Noir being out of the picture didn't impact her ability to fight, but Truth had Pharo on his side to knock Ladybug around when it was too hard to get a spotlight on her.

Finally, he managed to tackle her, her lying on her back and him pinning her arms down. The chest nearby rattled in protest, but Pharo shined its spotlight on it, preventing it from moving anymore.

Truth watched as Ladybug looked around for a method of escape, but she came up empty. Her eyes widened in the realization that... this was it. This was the end.

"Now," Truth said, clamping down harder on her arms as he leaned down, "tell me the truth!"

Ladybug tried to shut her lips tight, but he could see her struggling, her body shaking as she tried to free her arms to stop herself. It was only a matter of time.

Then, her mouth opened, and out came the words, "I love you, Luka!"

He froze, his fingers twitching in his confusion while he could only stare down at her in shock.

"And I'm so sorry! I'm sorry for everything! I wanted to tell you - I always wanted you to know - but I couldn't, and you deserve so much better than a hero who can't give you the time you deserve!"

A cold realization washed over him in form of a shudder. Those words could've been interpreted in so many ways, but he was the only one who registered their real meaning: that Marinette was Ladybug, her "ditching" had been her needing to fight akuma, her keeping secrets had been out of a desire to protect him, and he—

...He had only caused her more problems by getting akumatized, being no better than all those that had interrupted their dates. She loved him, and he gave into Shadow Moth to go against her.

Ladybug continued rambling, oblivious to his internal crisis, "You're incredible, and I just love you so much. I knew you were special from the day we met, when you called me—"

Truth clamped his hand over her mouth, preventing her from spilling any more secrets. He could feel Shadow Moth's influence in his mind, demanding that he remove his hand, but Truth ignored it, just as he'd been ignoring so many of his commands. The energy from akumatization that once made him feel powerful now made him feel disgusted with himself, guilt swirling in his gut and making him regret everything.

He reached up with his other hand, grabbing at his necklace and tearing it off. Ladybug's brows rose at the crunching of his akumatized object, and the last things he saw were the akuma flying free and Ladybug's expression turning to something...

thoughtful.

—————

Marinette de-transformed in a nearby alleyway and headed down towards the Seine, having not yet processed all of her feelings from that day. She had a little time left, given that Luka had quietly asked to walk back home himself, but she’d gotten no closer to clearing her mind since leaving her house. She was still a jumbled mess of "what if"s and "but maybe"s, and ultimately knew that it was going to be a matter of essentially winging it and just saying everything that she had on her mind.

As she approached the Liberty to wait for Luka, she paused as she noticed another figure already standing there. After all, Jagged Stone wasn't exactly someone you could not notice.

Before she could debate on whether to approach him, Jagged seemed to sense her and glanced over to make eye contact. She stiffened, only able to wave awkwardly and pretend like she didn't know why he'd be there.

"Hey, frockstar," Jagged greeted tiredly, his smile not quite reaching its usual lengths. "What are you doing here?"

"Um..." She walked over, standing next to him and staring in the direction where Luka was going to come from. "I need to talk to my boyfriend."

"Ah." It took a few seconds for the words to actually register with him, at which point Jagged turned to her, mouth agape as he grabbed her shoulders. "My son's your boyfriend?!"

She didn't quite have the energy to feign total surprise at the “son” comment, but she didn't have to. Jagged immediately pulled back without really looking at her, regaining his composure just as quickly as he'd lost it.

"You... wouldn't happen to be able to put in a good word for me, hm?" He grinned sheepishly, jabbing at Marinette with a hopeful elbow. "Haven't exactly figured out what I'm gonna say yet."

She was torn between being upset with him on Luka’s behalf and feigning sympathy because it was not only none of her business, but she was in a similar boat and felt like she had no right to judge.

She went with the latter, smiling weakly and jabbing him back. "That makes two of us." Then, she frowned as her nerves came back. "And... anyway, I don't know if he'll want to keep being my boyfriend after tonight."

For once, Jagged didn't pry or ask questions, the atmosphere probably felt even by him. They just stood there, waiting.

After a few minutes, Luka finally walked into view, staring at the ground and seeming defeated. Marinette felt ill at the sight, her fingers clutching at the fabric of her capris to find a sense of stability.

Should she approach him? Let Jagged go first? Or, maybe that would seem evasive, so—

She felt a pat on her shoulder, looking up at see Jagged urging her forward with his eyes. She wasn't sure if she should be grateful or consider him to be the evasive one, but Luka's akumatization was also mostly because of her and thus it only made sense for her to go first.

She ran the distance to get to him, Luka glancing up at the sound of her footsteps and stopping as she got to him. The usual light in his eyes wasn't there, and she had to force herself to even say a simple, "Um... hi."

"Hey." He hesitated, then rubbed the back of his head. "I'm really sorry, Marinette."

"Huh?"

"I got akumatized, and I was in your room when I woke up." His brows furrowed with uncharacteristic anxiety. "I didn't have to hear the song to know what the notes were. I must've gone after you."

Marinette blinked, having not even thought about him feeling guilty over the whole thing. She shook her head, reassuring, "No no! I mean—you told me to run! You didn't go after me, not really!"

She wasn't technically lying; he never sought her out to her knowledge, and even as Ladybug, she'd always had to chase him.

Luka sighed in relief, though his expression didn't change much. "I'm glad."

He met her gaze again. She yearned for the way he used to look at her like he wanted to get lost in her forever, but his eyes soon darted elsewhere as he noticed Jagged Stone standing not too far away.

Marinette tried not to get discouraged, stepping back into his vision and waving her hands to try and divert his attention. "Ah—don't worry about that! Look—" She paused, needing a moment to breathe, then lowered her hands and shifted to seriousness. "Can we talk? And walk? It's... really important."

She couldn't imagine the conclusions he must've been coming to in his head, partly because he didn't voice any of them. His eyes merely searched hers, seeking nothing in particular.

"Sure, Marinette," he agreed.

She managed a smile, happy that she made it this far at least. She reached out to take his hand, but stopped herself at the last second and simply walked past him, Luka taking one look back at Jagged before following after her.

The walk was tense and quiet, the only sounds coming from the evening ambiance and their footsteps. The uncertainty of it all gave her anxiety, but she'd been sure of that uncertainty since she first decided to talk to him about this.

Because, whatever the future of their relationship was, it would be in his hands.

—————

As they arrived at her intended destination, Marinette heard Luka briefly stop behind her, perhaps processing where she just took them. It was the Canal Saint-Martin, also known as the place where they'd first agreed to date, and now it was potentially the place where they'd break up as well. Marinette vaguely pondered if that would be for the best, like the memories would just cancel each other out and Luka could forget about it altogether if he wanted to.

Nevertheless, she walked over, glancing at the bridge for reference and sitting in roughly the same place she’d been all that time ago. She then tossed Luka a hopeful look, and he walked over to sit next to her.

Steeling herself up, Marinette took a breath, inhaling until she couldn't take in any more oxygen and then exhaling for just as long. At least a little more emotionally prepared than she was before, she finally spoke up.

"I...I'm sorry, Luka. I'm sorry that I got you akumatized—" She saw that he was about to interject and cut him off. "—and I know you don't blame me, but it doesn't matter—I mean—it does matter, but I'm still sorry anyway, okay? You had a right to be hurt and maybe if I'd explained myself better, then things would’ve been different."

He still seemed to want to argue, but was holding himself back so she could continue, which she appreciated.

"It's not that I didn't trust you. If anything, I—I trust you more than anyone else. You've never betrayed me and I know you'd never tell anyone if I told you my secret. You understand me even when I'm being the disaster that everyone laughs at - everyone but you - and..."

She sighed, pulling out her phone and navigating to her text conversation with him. Mentally wincing, she tapped on the photo of her Adrien wall that Ziggy had sent, then presented it to him. He leaned in to make sure of what it was, then looked back at her, clearly not understanding where she was going but knowing it wasn't her being spiteful or rubbing it in.

She said as much, "You don't assume anything, like when you got sent this dumb picture. I know it was obvious that it was an accident, but you didn’t have to go with it and you did. I wouldn't have blamed you if you got mad, but you didn't. Whenever I'm stammering and being an idiot because I'm scared or nervous, you don't judge me for it or think that whatever comes out is what I actually mean. That's so important to me, Luka, you have no idea."

She settled the phone between them and kept the picture on-screen. Her gaze flickered down to it, silently encouraging him to look at it too, then glanced back up at him.

"How much do you know about fashion?"

He tilted his head, thrown off by the sudden question, but answered anyway, "Only what my sister's ever talked about."

"Do you know why fashion trends die so quickly?" When he shook his head, she explained, "Part of it is the over-exposure. When people hear about what's in at the time, suddenly everyone starts wearing whatever it is, so everywhere you look, you see it, and then people get tired of it."

There was a flicker of understanding in his eyes, Luka looking back-and-forth between her and the phone like he was piecing a puzzle together.

She confirmed it for him, "That's why I have so many. I don't feel that way about him anymore - I don't think I ever did - but I just don't know how to act around him. I hate how the whole idolizing thing took over my life and I already tried everything else, so I figured this might work." She groaned. "And of course it blew up on me and you got sent that without any context. Of course."

He gave a look of concern at the exasperation in her tone, but she tried to ignore it, not wanting his sympathy.

"My point is..." She gestured vaguely at the phone. "I stammer about him, but it's not because I'm in love with him, it's because I've never really been his friend and I don't know how to do it. I'm not dedicated to him and I'm getting better at not doing the stuff I used to."

His eyes flickered again and she wondered if he was thinking about that day on the Liberty where she was late to Kitty Section playing, where she ignored Adrien entirely. Just for emphasis, she tapped her phone and deleted the picture, adding on, "I'm only dedicated to you, Luka. I—"

She shifted in place, hitting the wall behind her feet a few times with her heels to ease off the anxiousness. It was so much easier when she’d been Ladybug, though granted that she was under the influence of Truth's spell at the time. She and Luka were dating, yet she was sure he'd ask her to end it, making putting herself out there all the scarier.

"I..." She met his gaze. "I love you." He gaped at the confession and she continued on, "I love you like I haven't loved anyone else before; definitely not Adrien. It's the kind of love that actually makes me happy, and comfortable, and my life is better with you in it."

She bit her bottom lip, hands curling into fists at the tight feeling in her chest. She turned, placing one hand on the ground as she began to push herself up, her other hand landing on Luka's shoulder to wordlessly insist that he didn't have to stand with her, so his gaze merely followed her as she moved.

"But that's the thing." She took a few steps away, back turned to him as she stared up at the sky. Her stomach twisted itself in knots at the words in her throat, but she nonetheless admitted, "I don't think it's mutual."

Luka's voice took on a sharp, offended tone. "Marinette—"

She spun to face him, cutting him off, "—and I know that you're going to say something sweet and heartfelt about how everyone has a place in your life and then something about how bad notes can still make good songs, but... Luka, you don't understand."

She turned away from him again, this time pacing as she counted off events. "Bullies and liars target me, and sometimes that means going after people I care about. I'm clumsy and a stuttering mess and you wouldn't believe the mistakes I made that I couldn't have even seen coming. It seems like I draw bad luck wherever I go; I mean, your mother is one of the most chaotic people I can think of, so you'd think she'd get akumatized a bunch, but it was only the day I showed up that she did. Even the other boys who only loved me for a little bit either got akumatized over it or became an anxious mess until they found out who they actually liked, and that last one would've at least been really useful to think about if I'd just made the connection back then, but I didn't!" She paused, then met his eyes with a pained expression. "And then there's you."

"What do you mean?"

She stopped in place, not knowing whether to be touched or not by the fact that he either hadn't noticed or was pretending not to. Throwing her arms out, she explained, "Things go bad whenever we hang out! I already mentioned your mom, but then there was the ice rink; even without me getting distracted when all you were trying to do was make me feel better, there was an akuma and you probably got frozen solid by him. When we were hanging out on the Liberty, Adrien just happened to show up on that day with Kagami to turn me into a mess, and then Desperada came to make everything worse."

Marinette couldn't remember when she'd started thinking about such things or feeling guilty for everything that ever happened. There was just a point where it felt like she was always apologizing for something, no matter how small it was, and stuff being her fault became par for the course by then.

"Then, both times you got akumatized, it was because of me—and I know you don't blame me, but I'm always involved! You were ready to leave the TV station, but because I tried to put up a fight, Bob Roth threatened me and that was your last straw. Today was the same thing; you were already upset about what happened with your dad and then it was me who sent you over the edge!" She shut her eyes tight, the memories painful to relive. "You're always putting up with me, Luka. You put up with me crying all over you and even dropped your guitar for it, and then you had to protect me from Miracle Queen's mind control! I'm supposed to protect you!"

He recoiled at the volume of her voice, then furrowed his brows, his eyes darting back and forth as he seemed to process something particular about what she said.

"I'm supposed to make you happy, and I can't. Out of all the people in Paris who should be able to keep you from getting akumatized, it should be me, and all I've done is hurt you. You're the calmest person I've ever known and then I came along and gave you feelings you didn't ask for. Sometimes—" She shook, choking briefly on the words. "Sometimes I wonder if it would've been better for you if you never met me."

Luka's gaze sharpened. He didn't reply, but turned fully to her, pushing himself up as if to approach.

However, she stepped back, his look then flashing to hurt. She took a breath, expression determined as she said with her whole chest, "I'm Ladybug, Luka."

He froze, his body going stiff and his eyes blinking rapidly at either the reveal itself or the way she’d so firmly said it.

"I'm Ladybug," she repeated quietly, this time with an ache in her voice, "and I'm telling you not because I trust you—I mean, I do trust you—but I also believe in you; that you wouldn't sell me out to Shadow Moth even with all the mind control in the world. You've always had my back and supported me even when I didn't deserve it, and I want you to know. It's dangerous and I don't know what'll happen and I'm scared but I want you to know it." She put a hand to her chest. "I'm the one who has to save Paris whenever something happens, and that's why I always had to ditch you. I'm the one who messed up and lost you your identity as Viperion. I'm the new guardian of the miraculouses, and the kwami don't even listen to me; they invaded my privacy and it was one of them that took and sent you that picture."

She realized that her vision was staring to blur and looked skywards, trying to fight back tears.

"I-I'm not a normal girl. I can't be a normal girlfriend, or give you everything you'd want out of a normal relationship. It's my fault that you got akumatized because I just—I wanted you. I wanted to be in a relationship and go on dates with you, but Ladybug isn't supposed to want things. She's supposed to be selfless and only worry about everyone else, but... you made me happy, and I wanted more of that. You were the first person I really felt like I could be myself around without being scolded or lied to and I thought it would be okay..."

She noticed him moving and quickly turned her back to him, at least able to let the tears fall now without him seeing them.

"I'm sorry I dragged you into this. I always think I can handle things but then it goes wrong and I end up hurting people. If I'd just gone home the day of the music festival instead of complaining about Adrien not being around, then none of this would've happened." She sighed in frustration, wiping her eyes clean of tears, and she was so focused on forcing her words out that she didn't hear the footsteps coming from behind her. "I-it's okay if you want to break up, Luka. It wasn't fair that I kept you in the dark, and I understand if you're mad, or you want to date other people, o-or if you don't love me anymore—"

Her voice cut off with a gasp as a pair of arms wrapped around her midsection, pulling her against a familiar, warm chest that had an unfamiliarly pounding heartbeat. She tried to look up at him, but his hair was shadowing out his eyes and left only his trembling lips visible. In fact, his whole body was shaking, as if it were winter and no amount of layers could keep him warm.

"L-luka?" she called, confused.

"Stop," he begged quietly, the hug tightening briefly to give her a squeeze. "Please."

"But..." She trailed off, acknowledging the request. She'd never heard his voice just break like that.

"You've already sung your part of our duet, Marinette. Now it's my turn." He paused, taking an unsteady breath before continuing, "I'm glad you told me your secret. I know you're worried about me being in danger, but it makes me happy that you can rely on me now. Music boxes aren't meant to stay shut, and you deserve someone who you can open up to, even if I hate that you have to mute yourself in the first place to keep everyone safe."

She opened her mouth, wanting to say that it was okay and it was just her job, but kept quiet to respect his earlier request.

"My life isn't worse because I met you," he murmured, an unspoken plea in his tone that told her to never think that way again. "I felt things with you that I never have before. My song started out as a flatline, then we met and you made it move. Music isn't exciting if it doesn't change but you did that for me. What you might see as bad notes is my passion for you, and I won't apologize for it or make you apologize for messing up just like every person does. I'd never wanted someone before you, and even if you never wanted to date me, I'm grateful that I got to know you; to fall for you."

Marinette blinked in an attempt to stop oncoming tears, Luka pulling her closer for comfort when she whimpered.

"All that mattered to me is when we were together, just the two of us. That's when your melody plays the clearest and when I get to see you. Those two weeks when we were preparing our music video were some of the best two weeks of my life because I got to see you in your element. I've accepted every break in the tempo because I've heard you, I've heard the Marinette you've wanted to be, and I want to be there for every beat of it." Then, he exhaled, adding with a somber tone, "I can't imagine how much pressure you must be under, or how awful things are and how impossible it must be to sing when you can't even take a breath without something going wrong. I just... I want to help you be happy. I don't care what you, your kwami, or anyone else says; you're allowed to be happy, Marinette, and I'd drop a thousand of my guitars if it meant that you get to play happy notes one more time."

She let out a sob, blushing pink as her hands unconsciously raised to rest on the ones around her waist, Luka sighing in content and nestling further against her.

"So I don't want to break up with you, Marinette. Not at all. I just want to find ways to make it easier on you - on both of us - and if that means finding ways of planning our dates around akuma attacks, or not planning at all and going wherever the rhythm leads, then that's what we'll do."

She tried to keep quiet, but couldn't help voicing, "W-what if... what if it doesn't work? What if I have to bail on you every now and then? People will think—"

"I was never worried about that," he retorted immediately. "I'm a Couffaine. My clothes are ripped, I carry my guitar in the basket on my bike, and I live on a boat. I stopped caring about what people thought a long time ago."

He was unbelievable. Marinette didn't know whether to laugh or cry, so she did both. He just held her there, his heart still beating against her back but now serving as something to calm her.

"The only opinions that matter in our duet are yours and mine," he said. His hold loosened, though hesitating like it was physically painful to release her. He let her go nonetheless and held his hands out in front of her, palms facing the sky. "So what about you, Marinette?"

She stared at his hands, then slowly raised her own to hover over them. She breathed up, then slid her fingers across his palms until their calloused fingertips met, neither making any move to pull away.

"I...I want to make it work," she whispered, leaning back against him. "I want to be with you, Luka. I'm at my best when I'm with you. I just..."

She stopped, knowing that he would have an argument for anything she said. If she apologized for the failed dates that she can never fix, he'd argue that it'd be worse to leave things off a sour note, and that not every good song starts out good. If she tried to suggest other people for him to date or imply that it'd be easier with someone else, he'd say that his guitar plays only for her and he wouldn't change that even if he could.

"...I'm sorry," she said, smiling her first genuine smile of the night. "I won't doubt myself anymore."

Even though she couldn't see his face, she knew he was smiling too. "Do you feel better?"

"Yeah. Do—do you?"

"Yeah," he replied, voice thick with emotion.

Wanting to see his face, she slowly dropped their hands and turned to face him, silently hoping that she didn't look awful from her earlier tears. However, to her surprise, she noticed that Luka's eyes were watery despite his smile, just like her. Realizing something, she raised a hand to her shoulder, where his face had been hovering over ever since he'd hugged her from behind.

It was wet.

"Oh, Luka..."

She threw her arms around his neck and pulled him against her. He returned the gesture, squeezing her lovingly and giving her back a few rubs that she responded to with a happy hum. They held the position, the warmth of the hug completely negating the slight chill of the night air.

Even when they pulled away, it wasn't far nor for long. Marinette wasn't sure which of them initiated it, but one moment they were staring at each other and the next they were kissing. It had been long overdue and she idly thought that it was better than she would've imagined their kiss at the cinema to be.

She breathed in his scent, her fingers blindly reaching up to slide into his hair. She almost felt like crying again, though this time in relief that everything had actually worked out for once and they were kissing without interruption. Even though Luka was more subtle in showing his emotions, she could tell that he felt the same from the way his hand on her back shook, practically vibrating with happiness.

The kiss eventually broke with a soft click, though she kept her hands on him for the sake of stability. They were both breathing a little hard from the emotional toll of the conversation yet not necessarily in a bad way.

And the love in his eyes - the life that she missed so much - was back. She honestly thought she wouldn’t have seen it again and she was tempted to just keep kissing him in relief, part of her aware that he definitely wouldn’t have minded it.

It took her a few tries to get the words out, hesitant to break up their wordless exchanges of love. She knew what revelation was waiting for Luka back at his houseboat - maybe he'd already guessed it - and she wanted to be there for him, so she asked carefully, "Do you... want me to come back to the Liberty with you?"

Eyes half-lidded, he gave her a soft smile and gently squeezed her hand. "Yeah. Do you want to sleep over?"

She nodded. "Mm, I'd like that."

Holding hands, they began making their way back to the Liberty, the ambiance of the night finally coming through to soothe them. Marinette glanced down at their joined hands, then at the wide smile on Luka's face, the latter clearly caused by the former.

She looked ahead at where they were walking, pretending that she hadn't just been admiring him. "We could always go out for breakfast together. That might work out."

"That sounds amazing." Luka feigned a look of thoughtfulness. "Maybe Shadow Moth doesn't like mornings?"

Marinette squeaked mid-giggle. "You'd think that'd be the case from the name, huh?"

He chuckled, covering his mouth with his free hand, and the conversation remained light from there. Any bad feelings from the day had evaporated, leaving only smiles and hope for the future in its place.

Everything was going to be okay. For once, Marinette could truly believe that.