#SPANNER AVERT YOUR EYES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[biomic]

AWUWHUGHGHUHGUHUHAWUHG GOHH MY GODDD D/????/??

[like-rain-or-confetti]

The Beginning (The Riddler x Reader)

You worked for the Riddler. It wasn't your plan by any means but being new in Gotham and completely alone often led to this outcome. Over the last nine months, you had taken every insult, condescending lecture, patronising comment and snarky remark of your lack of intelligence. You did a damn good job of it too. He had told you with nonchalance about his multiple stays in Arkham and each one sounded like hell. Ever since, you have had little to no sympathy for Arkham's staff. Ironically, those who were to help these tortured souls had no empathy for the patients. They spoke of rehabilitation yet used unspeakable violence against patience and to make matters worse, patients were treated less than humans and used as experiments when authorities weren't looking. So it really was no wonder that those like the Riddler did not get any better.

He seemed to warm up to you and whilst it didn't save you from his remarks, it did put you in better graces. Not to mention the occasional extra money he paid you. When you tried to return it, he berated you for being such an idiot that you wouldn't think to keep it to yourself. It took you weeks to figure out that it wasn't a mistake and he was giving extra on purpose.

If he could depend on anyone, the Riddler thought he could depend on you. However, that came with the heavy reminder that he never needed anyone or anything. The glaring hint of his fondness was actually in what he didn't do. You had seen many henchmen who had failed him be beaten within inches of their life or even to death with anything he had at the time. If not building anything, it was his gold cane. If he were building, it was spanners, hammers and anything with some weight. He could make anything a weapon if he was angry enough.

Yet he never raised a hand to you. Oddly enough, you weren't afraid of him. You couldn't help but consider him a tortured soul so you tried your best to accommodate him. Even though you worked for him, you liked to think the two of you had developed some kind of friendship over the months as he began to trust you more with details about his life. Then when a budding romance was on the table, he gave you more information about himself- specifically his childhood. He was bullied through school, his mother abandoned him and his father when he was seven as she didn't want to be tied down.

His father blamed him for her leaving and refused to look at himself when he was nothing more than a grotesque, life-sucking alcoholic. He refused to go any further into his relationship with his father which was odd considering Edward adored details. He wasn't his usual self when he appeared at your door unannounced. He avoided your gaze and at first would only say he had to speak with you.

After a bit of talking, he admitted he hadn't told you everything- something you already knew but weren't going to comment on that. However you never expected him to tell you what he did. "I was abused by my father." Edward said flatly. "Physically, verbally, mentally. He hated me." "Yeah?" You didn't know what else to say but what you found more important was to give him complete control in the conversation along with your full attention. He was always comfortable most when he was in control and to tell you something so vulnerable?

Well, he deserved it now more than ever. He nodded. Risking that you might sound rude, you tried to be careful with your tone. "So why are you telling me now?" You asked carefully. "Has something happened?" You immediately thought it to be your imagination when you could have sworn you saw Edward's lip quiver slightly. "Because you're more than work and more than a friend. You should know why I..." He paused, averting his gaze. "...why I am the way I am." He blinked a couple of times and through the light of the window you saw his eyes glisten slightly. "I owe you that much after everything. I'd like to see where this goes. I want you to know me and that's something." There it was again, the lip quiver. It was so quick that you once again had to shrug it off as your imagination. "I am a selfish man, (Y/N). I make no apologies for that. Don't expect me to give you anything of the sort when I don't have time for you. It's all I...am."

The more he spoke, the more he struggled but you didn't move to silence him. That isn't what he needed. As much as you wanted to console and reassure him through his emotions, you did neither because in your eyes, such a move could make him recoil and lose his nerve.

You trusted that Edward had thought this through and would commit to sharing with you until he was done and then you would do something. In that moment, you'd listen only. Sometimes that's all that is needed- to be heard. You speculated that's all Edward ever wanted was to be heard and not just heard but listened to.

He continued. "My immediate response is to berate, not to empathise. I have to be the best at everything. All because that was how my father treated me. I was never good enough to amount to anything. He'd beat me for good grades because I was too much of a moron to ever succeed in anything and must have cheated. I'd be beaten if I lied or if I told the truth. Nothing pleased him. To my peers, I was weird. No one cared. Even now I prove my brilliance and I am disregarded by incompetent fools who can barely do basic arithmetic." Edward sucked his teeth with frustration. A hint of sadness in his eyes. "So I can't help but enjoy every jab I make towards everyone. Including you. Only you have just taken it time and time again. I get no reaction out of you. I-" His voice cracked. "When I do that to you, I am reminded that's what my father did to me and I took it. For years and years and it makes me sick as I see you do it now.So I'm telling you this to give you the chance to run. I'm giving you that. The opportunity to get out whilst you can before I-" He cut himself off sharply, shaking his head and averting his gaze one again.

Bzzt...bzzt...bzzt... Your attention moved to your phone. "It's Jenson. I was to meet him for the...you know." Just like that, Ed recoiled into himself and sat back. "Alright." He mumbled. He was clearly dejected. Once again feeling dismissed as you answered the call.

"Jenson, hi, I didn't realise the time. I would have called sooner." You were silent for a moment, eyes flickering to Ed and he waited. He waited for you to excuse yourself and leave him hanging with the most vulnerable piece of him that he had tried to bury for years. "Actually, Jenson, there's a family emergency. I can't do the meeting today." The Riddler's gaze snapped back to you with surprise. "Can we meet tomorrow? Tell the guys yeah? I'll call them tonight or something and apologise. I'll also explain myself to Penguin's guys."

Even as you hung up the phone, Edward could only stare at you with disbelief, a flicker of hope brewing in his chest. Of all possibilities, you dropping everything for him- even the job he hired you for and ultimately risking your paycheck- wasn't one of them. "I've to explain to you why the meeting didn't happen five minutes ago but I think you understand." You informed him and he let out a breathless laugh in disbelief. "So..." You began as you clasped your hands on the table in front of you. "...would you be understanding if I told you I didn't go to the meeting I was supposed to be at five minutes ago?" He hummed with a nod in response, lips quivering as tears threatened to spill.

He was no longer able to trust his voice as it cracked through his hum and breathing took a little bit more effort. "So what I'm getting is, correct me if I'm wrong, is that you've told me this because you'd like to take a step forward with me and are worried that I wouldn't be ready for that and run from you screaming?" You asked with a slight head tilt.

Reality seemed to hit him hard as it struck him what he had done. He had given you his weakness, his flaw. He had shown you the other side of him that not even he could love or have the time for...with the hope you could. Anxiety bubbled in his gut but also an unexpected feeling of relief that someone he cared about in this world knew of this piece of him. It was exhilarating and terrifying all at once. All the control, Ed loved he had let go and given to you. You hadn't thrown it back in his face like others had before, just as he was used to. You were different in every sense of the word. The emotion was so much he had to vocalise it. Now that he had opened the floodgates, he couldn't stop.

"I've never told anyone this before." He said shakily against the lump in his throat. "How do you feel now that you've told me?" You asked gently. That was all it took. That opportunity to be heard and the validation that came with it was everything he had craved throughout his childhood and even now. Tears finally fell and a sob escaped him. "Relieved...like I can breathe around you again." Another sob escaped and Edward quickly lowered his head, covering his face with his hand, elbow propped against the table.

He hadn't been allowed to cry as a child and Edward kept that rule for himself into adulthood. Yet he couldn't push it all back down the way he had before. He couldn't stop his tears. You leaned forward. "I'm glad you told me." You said softly, immediately reaching for a nearby napkin and passing it to him. Then you stood up and moved to his side before crouching down by his chair. "I'm honoured that you trust me enough to tell me this and I'm happy because now its not an invisible obstacle between us, you know? Like you've given me a key to connect you more and that's what I want. I want to connect with you more." You put a hand on his arm and he looked at you. "Thank you, Edward." You said quietly with a warm smile. "You really want this? With me?" He managed out. "I want all of you. Everything you have to offer- I'll have it all." You answered.

As he looked at you, he tried to wrap his head around how you could. Yet he could see the honesty in your eyes. You meant every word- but he didn't understand how you could. Edward was frightened of his uncertainty for all of this. He'd spent so long deflected and avoiding these emotions that he had forgotten what they were like until now and they were overwhelming.Yet with you, he felt completely safe. Then you caught him off guard again.

"Can I hug you?" You asked lightly. Ed nodded tearily, pressing his lips together in a tight line as he tried to suppress another sob. Your smile widened and you mumbled something about having to stand before your legs went dead. Whilst he didn't show it, he couldn't help but find small amusement in that. You straightened slightly and held him to you, one hand in his hair other holding him to you. To your surprise, Edward wrapped his arms around you and squeezed you tightly. "So I think..." You mumbled to him quietly. "...I should get us something to eat and then you can teach me chess. How's that sound?" You knew he'd figure out what you were giving him. Time alone to collect himself as he often required, away from any prying eyes so he didn't have to continue a show. You felt him nod against you. "Good because you've been telling me you would and you've been so busy." You smiled. "You're brilliant, Ed." You whispered to him quietly. "Every moment I get with you is a gift and I'm not letting you go." You assured him quietly.

[leopardcoffee]

Not that innocent

Vorik/Reader

🫧Warnings: Implied sexual content- 18+!!!

🫧Notes: Quick little drabble while i’m working on chapter 5 of Maroon, let me know if you want a part 2!

~

Vorik’s eyes followed you discreetly as you made your way across his field of view. You smiled as you interacted with your peers, though he couldn’t care less about them. He’d had his eye on you for a while now, careful to keep his distance and maintain his icy facade, but he was enraptured by you. Everything about you enticed him, tempted him away from his deep set values and into the realm of desire.

He gritted his teeth and tightened his hand around his pad. It was difficult to keep his eyes off the sway of your hips as you walked. Nothing you did was inherently provocative, but for some reason you threatened his control more than any woman ever had. His cheeks burned as you bent down to work on a conduit, and it took everything not to slam his hand down on his console. Looking down, Vork did his best to avert his eyes. As tempting as you were, this was neither the time nor the place for his deviant thoughts.

Rising gracefully, you snapped your spanner back into your belt and brushed an arm across your forehead, other hand resting on your hip. The pink color of your lips and the way your face glistened, sweaty from hard work, made him grunt. The hand resting on his thigh tightened into a fist. His pon farr had passed him by well over a year ago, nothing explained what you did to him. He felt anger and frustration simmering beneath his control, his most primal urges begging to assert themselves. You sighed and started over in his direction, probably to give him your analysis of the conduit you had just fixed so he could log it.

“Vorik, would you mind just inputting this real quickly for me?” You asked, staring at him. Ignoring the way your uniform cinched your waist perfectly, Vorik accepted the pad, careful to let your fingers brush his.

“Yes Lieutenant, it will just be…a moment.” He rasped, aware of the gravelly sound of his own voice and the tight knit of his brow.

“Everything alright? You don’t sound too good.” Your lips turned down into a pout as you ran your eyes over him. Vorik sucked in a breath, and stole the opportunity to rake his gaze up and down your body. Long ago, he had been forced to acknowledge how attractive you were. Now that he had allowed himself to accept how he felt, he couldn’t seem to shake you from his thoughts.

“Yes…I am fine.” He forced out, he needed to get out of here now. The air was too hot and you were too close. His whole body burned. It was immature, improper, and unorthodox of him to let his carnal desires take such a hold on him, but he allowed it anyway.

“Know what, i’ll take care of the data entry. Why don’t you go back to your quarters and rest for a bit? I’ll let B’elanna know.” You offered, bending over the console to take the pad and offering him the perfect view down your unzipped jumpsuit. That was the last straw for him, he needed to get out.

“Thank you.” He grunted, standing on unsteady legs. You placed your hand on his shoulder in sympathy and took his seat. Vorik kept his head down and ignored the odd looks he was getting from the other engineering staff. Meditation wouldn’t help him now, he had let it get too bad, he needed another solution.

Rushing into his quarters, he shut the door and slammed his back up against it. Tossing his head back, he exhaled shakily. There was no sense in denying it, he couldn’t handle his attraction to you. Shuddering, he tried to ignore the ache in his stomach. It would be indecent of him to…pleasure himself to the thought of you. He growled, slamming his fist against the door. What other solution was there? There was no way he could work like this, he dared not look down and be met with the sight of the growing hardness in his pants. He dragged a hand down his damp face and pushed his sweaty bangs from his face. It was wrong, but there was no choice. Reaching for the zipper of his jumpsuit, Vorik sealed his own fate.

[chaosmagicss]

love in the dark (wanda maximoff x reader)

synopsis: your plan is simple; get through your senior year and make it to college with minimal fuss. what you aren’t expecting is the spanner in the works that is wanda maximoff and her stupidly kissable lips.

series warnings: high school au (everyone is 18), secret relationship, jealousy, allusions to and brief mentions of smut, fluff, angst

chapter warnings: heated kissing, underage drinking, jealousy

words: 5.2k

a/n: ooookay. part two!! enjoy! :D

part one | part three | part four | part five

The next two days are agony. You’re dying to tell Carol about it, but you’d promised Wanda you wouldn’t, so you force yourself to keep it to yourself. You busy yourself all weekend, cooking an unnecessarily complicated dinner for you and your mother on Saturday and cleaning the whole house top to bottom on Sunday before burying your nose in your notes.

Despite your best efforts, it almost bursts out of you the moment Carol finds you on Monday morning, playfully knocking your shoulder as she falls into step beside you.

“Oh, thank god, I was starting to think you were dead,” she says in lieu of a greeting. All you can manage is a smile, too worried that I kissed Wanda will leap out of your mouth should you try to speak. Carol frowns. “You okay? You, like, disappeared over the weekend.”

“Oh,” you say after a beat. “Yeah, I’m sorry. I was just - just busy.”

Carol hums, but thankfully doesn’t press any further. All you can think about is Wanda, and what the hell you’re meant to say to her the next time you find yourself alone in the same room as her. When you haven’t figured it out by the end of first period, you come to the conclusion that avoidance is your best bet.

You go all day without seeing her, keeping your eyes on your shoes or your phone or the front of the classroom, and you disappear into the library during recess and lunch just so you won’t see her in the cafeteria. However, you can’t shake the feeling that the only reason the whole avoidance plan is going so well is because Wanda is doing the exact same thing.

You’re halfway through packing your bag after practice when Wanda finds you in the locker room, the cut on your cheek from Tony accidentally whacking you in the face with his lacrosse stick no longer stinging, instead making its presence known with a dull, annoying thud. It was sort of your fault, admittedly; your eyes had strayed and landed on Wanda, who was giggling softly in response to whatever story Natasha was telling her, and then she’d looked back over at you and caught your gaze and you’d found yourself completely unaware of Tony Stark’s rapidly approaching lacrosse stick until it smacked you right across the cheek.

He’d come in only ten minutes ago to apologise more than you’d thought Tony Stark would ever apologise, his genuine worry for you sort of endearing. You jump when someone knocks gently on a locker to make their presence known, fumbling your bag and sending half your belongings onto the floor. You glance towards the intruder, and find yourself frozen for a beat before cursing softly and dropping to a knee to stuff your things back into your bag.

“Sorry,” Wanda says, voice soft as ever, just a twinge of teasing in her voice. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s—” You huff, eyes darting to her again; it should be illegal to look that good in a skirt. “It’s fine. I’m jumpy. Not your fault.” As you push to stand again, you say, “Is there something you need?” She blinks in surprise at the words, looking a little hurt, and you sigh softly. “Sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for it to come out like that.”

“No, it… it’s okay,” she says, waving her hand dismissively. “I deserve a little attitude.” You bite the inside of your cheek and avert your eyes, unable to hold her gaze. When she steps over and touches your arm, your whole body reacts to the touch. Wanda pulls her hand away when you shift away from her, biting into her lip. “I’m… I’m sorry.”

“Don’t…” You swallow, shrug. “It’s alright. Don’t apologise.”

She nods mutely, her gaze not wavering from your face even as you look away from her. Her eyes on you makes you all fidgety. “Are you, um, is your cheek okay?”

“Oh, it’s - it’s fine. Just a cut. I’ve had worse.”

Wanda is quiet for a beat, and then, in this tiny little voice she says, “I can’t stop thinking about you.” You look up at her, frowning, and Wanda bites into her lip thoughtfully, eyes skirting over your face and lingering noticeably on your lips. “I can’t… can’t stop thinking about kissing you.”

You exhale shakily, aware of the way your face is heating up in response to the low register of her voice. “Wanda, what…”

“I - I know what I said was fucked up,” she cuts in. “About not telling anyone. That’s - it’s not fair on you, I know that, I just… if - if Jarvis or - or my parents found out, I’d…”

Panic floods you and you whip your head around to face her. “Fuck, are you and Jarvis actually—”

“Oh, no! No. Of course not.” She sighs, pushes a hand back through her hair. “We’re not - We haven’t made anything - it’s not official, we haven’t even kissed, it’s just… it’s sort of inevitable, I guess. My parents… expect me to date him. Long-term. They have this whole big plan for my life with him.”

You clench your jaw. You honestly couldn’t see Iryna enforcing something like that on her only daughter. “That’s… medieval,” you mutter. Wanda huffs a laugh, and the two of you fall into another slightly awkward silence. “I didn’t tell anyone,” you say eventually, “just so you know. You don’t - don’t have to worry about that.”

Wanda’s face shifts a little, her lips pulling down into this frown that’s more of a pout than anything, her brows pulled together just a little as she looks at you. Then she steps closer, reaching for your sleeve and gently tugging until you turn to face her. “Can you… can you kiss me?” she asks in this soft, shy little voice, and it’s a miracle that your knees don’t give out. “Please?”

You blink, your heart racing as you let your bag drop to the floor. “Are you sure?”

Her hands slide onto your hips, gently twisting into the fabric of your hoodie as she nods. Ever so gently, you take her face in your hands. She leans a little into one of your palms, looking up at you through her eyelashes, and Jesus, you must be dreaming. When you brush your thumb over her skin in an attempt to get her to relax, you smile softly at the way she shivers, and she smiles shyly back at you before you lean in to close the distance between your lips.

You pull back only a few moments later, and Wanda damn near whines, her hands tightening their hold before you can get too far back. Her lips brush against yours as your noses bump together, and you find yourself struggling to breathe.

“Like you mean it, hotshot,” she says, just a little breathless, and your own breath hitches.

You kiss her again, harder this time, and Wanda hums appreciatively against your lips. When you swipe your tongue along her bottom lip, she gasps, and this time you indulge her; you lick into her mouth, swallowing every small sigh that she lets out as her hands tug you flush against her. You don’t realise that she’s spinning you until your back hits the lockers, and she breathes a small laugh when you gasp in surprise.

She bites into your lower lip, tugging it between her teeth before she sucks to soothe the sting, and you barely manage to bite back the small groan that crawls up your throat. Wanda ends the kiss slowly, leaving you dazed and panting when she finally pulls back. You can’t quite manage to open your eyes, and Wanda seems to be in a similar state; she’s leaning her forehead to yours again, her breath coming out in quick, hot pants against your lips.

“I like you,” she murmurs, more an exhale than anything. “A lot.”

You pull back to look at her, and god. Wanda Maximoff with flushed cheeks and kiss-swollen lips has to be the most beautiful sight known to man. You swallow thickly, brushing your thumb over her warm skin.

She takes a breath. “Is... is that weird?”

You blink, shake your head softly. “No, I don’t think so,” you whisper. “I like you a lot, too.” 

She smiles, a giddy little giggle bubbling up her throat. “I wanna - I mean, can we… can we do this more often?”

You narrow your eyes at her. “Make out in the locker rooms after school?”

Wanda somehow flushes further, rolling her eyes at the comment and pushing away from you a little as she fights a grin. “Well, yes. But not just… here.”

“Oh,” you nod, pretending to ponder, and your heart flutters when Wanda’s smile widens. “I dunno, I’ll think about it.”

She slaps you gently on the shoulder, pulling a laugh out of you. “I take it back,” she says, stepping away. “I never wanna make out with you again.”

“Woah, woah, woah,” you say quickly, catching her wrist and tugging her back in, your hands finding her waist as hers slide onto your shoulders. “Not so fast there, Maximoff. I think you came to that conclusion far too quickly.”

“Oh, is that right?” she mutters, and you nod slowly before kissing her softly. You were very quickly becoming addicted to the feel of her lips on yours. She pulls away just a few seconds later, humming a little in frustration. “I don’t - is it okay if we keep it quiet?” she asks softly, looking up at you with remorse in those big green eyes. “At least for a little while. Until I can figure out how to tell my parents.”

She sighs shakily, eyes squeezing shut. “Jesus, I’m sorry. This is just - very new for me, and I don’t—”

“Hey, hey,” you cut in, tucking hair behind her ear. “It’s okay.” Swallowing thickly, you ignore the warning sirens going off in your brain and give Wanda a small smile. “We’ll take this at your pace, alright? Go as slow as you want.”

She twists her lips, still looking as apologetic as ever. You lean in to drop a kiss to the corner of her mouth. “Besides, it’ll be kinda fun sneaking around,” you say lightly. “It’ll be like a stupid romcom movie, you know?”

Wanda huffs a laugh, shaking her head a little in disbelief. “You’re unbelievable,” she says.

“I think you mean undeniably charming,” you correct her.

She sucks her teeth, winding her arms around your neck, eyes dropping to your mouth as a lazy smile tugs at her lips. “I really didn’t.”

Either way, when you lean in to kiss her, she meets you halfway.

The next two months go by in a whirl. You make out with Wanda in the bathrooms, in empty classrooms, on your couch when your mom takes the night shifts. Your relationship consists of stolen moments and quick glances; in class and at school sporting events alike. There are a few close calls, where Wanda slaps a hand over your mouth and holds her breath when she hears footsteps approaching, where you have to hide in her closet in the first (and last) night you ever sneak into her house because Pietro had to duck back home because he forgot something. It gets your adrenaline pumping more than anything ever has, and Wanda giggles like a kid who got away with stealing candy the second the coast is clear.

You find out that Wanda Maximoff loves having her hair played with, that she’s overly competitive with just about everything, that she plays with her rings when she’s nervous or shy, and that she twists her lips when she’s embarrassed. With every little thing you learn about her, the good and the bad, you can feel yourself slipping further and further into her orbit.

You knew it was dangerous letting yourself fall for her, knew that the two of you were on borrowed time. 

Wanda had admitted that where she was going to college was still unclear. She wanted to go to New York, study Psychology at Columbia University. Her parents, however, had discussed the possibility of her moving to England with Jarvis once he started his study at some prestigious English college. Her plan in that case was a little fuzzy, and the discouraged look on her face as she told you about it was enough to make your heart ache. So, you’d peppered an abundance of kisses over her face just to get her to smile and murmured, “Everything’ll work out, you’ll see,” as she gripped the front of your shirt and rolled onto her back, pulling you on top of her.

So, yeah, the clock is ticking, and the more time you spend with her the more the hiding is starting to lose its appeal. You have to fight to keep your eyes to yourself as Jarvis cuddles up to her, oblivious to Wanda’s stiff body language, and you find your dislike for the guy growing with every jealousy fuelled second that passes.

But when Wanda finds you and kisses you like her life depends on it, whispering about how she missed you even if you’d seen each other the day before or that morning or even just a few hours ago, it doesn’t seem so bad.

She wants you, and she makes it abundantly clear. That’s enough for now.

-

“Dude, it’s gonna be fine.”

Your eyes dart to Carol’s face. There’s a hint of concern pulling at her features, her fist hovering an inch away from the door. You nod, shrug a little.

“Yeah, I know.”

She mustn’t believe you, because she lowers her hand and adjusts the box full of beer on her hip. “We’ve hung out with them before,” she says. There’s a pause. “If you, like, wanna leave at any point, then—”

“And deprive you of one-on-one time with you-know-who?” you cut in, “What kinda best friend would I be if I did that?”

Carol flushes, rolls her eyes, knocks three times against the door as she mutters, “Man, you’re an ass. Remind me never to worry about you again.”

You laugh, and Carol shoots you a quick grin of her own just before the door opens. Tony Stark flourishes out an arm, motioning inside with a wide grin.

“Danvers, hotshot, lovely of you to finally make it.”

Carol smiles, bounces the box on her hip. “Well, late or not, we come bearing gifts.”

“And I am indebted indefinitely,” Tony grins, motioning you inside.

Carol huffs a laugh as she steps inside, pawning off the box of beer to Bucky. You give Tony a shy smile as you step past him, and he gives you a quick wink before launching into a rundown of the house - drinks in the kitchen, backups in the garage should you run out, a toilet both upstairs and downstairs, don’t go into his dad’s office for fear of being sued, yada yada yada.

The words go in one ear and out the other, your mind racing as he guides you to where everyone else is. You are rehearsing your first interaction with Wanda over and over again - just the right amount friendly, to avoid suspicion. Make sure your hands don’t linger. Don’t smile at her in a weird way. Keep it casual.

She’s the first person you spot, your eyes naturally drawn to her as you enter the room, and immediately, you feel your whole body relax at the sight of her. She smiles, a secret little thing that has your heart racing for a whole different reason, and you bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from grinning at her as a few people stand to greet you.

You get brief hugs from Nat, Sam and Pepper. A quick glance around the room earns you welcoming smiles from Steve, Bucky and Pietro. You catch a whiff of coconut shampoo and all-too familiar perfume, and when you look in front of you, your whole chest warms.

“Hi,” Wanda says, eyes soft. You fight back a wide grin, settle instead for a hopefully not too strained smile as she steps in for a hug. You wrap one arm around her, making sure your hand settles in the middle of her back. You draw back just a moment later; Wanda’s hands linger ever so slightly on your shoulders before they drop away. “How have you been?”

You bite the inside of your cheek, shrugging. “Alright.”

A sour feeling settles in your stomach as an arm glides around Wanda’s shoulders, and you watch her face falter a little as Jarvis settles in beside her, grinning at you.

“Y/N,” he says, extending a hand, which you shake just once before dropping. “Glad you could make it.” You nod, watching as Jarvis looks down at Wanda. “Care to come grab a drink with me?”

Wanda nods, smiles tightly. “Sure.”

Your gut recoils as his hand slides down her back, gently squeezing her waist before his eyes fall back to you. “Do you want one, Y/N?”

“Can’t, I’m driving,” you shrug. “Thanks, though.”

He nods, and turns to leave. As he walks off, Wanda glances back at you with an apologetic look on her face, and not for the first time, you wish you could do something stupid. You wish you could just grab her and kiss her, right here, right now, where everyone can see, consequences be damned.

But you can’t, so you don’t. Instead, you scuff your shoe against the ground and fiddle absently with the keys in your pocket, anxiety pumping through your whole body.

God, you wish you could drink. It would make this all a hell of a lot more bearable.

You’re jolted out of your moping when Natasha almost barrels into you, grabbing your arm. “C’mon, you’re my beer pong partner.”

“I - I’m not drinking.”

“Neither’s Steve,” she says as she pulls you along. You breeze past Wanda and Jarvis on your way, and you just barely catch a strange look pass over her face as she processes Natasha’s hand on your arm. “Carol, I got her!”

The next three hours fly by. You’re not even really sure what you’ve been doing to pass the time, but admittedly, watching everyone get more and more drunk was weirdly entertaining. Sam and Bucky had gotten into an argument over who was stronger which resulted in a party-wide arm-wrestling contest. Pietro and Carol had raced to see who could down three shots of different types of alcohol the quickest. Bruce is currently asleep on the couch.

And now you’re here, sat in a circle on the floor, playing truth or dare. Pepper has given Tony a hickey, Steve and Nat have swapped shirts, and Carol has just attempted to do a shot of vodka while doing a hand-stand. You’re anticipating whatever probably-evil truth or dare question she’s mustering up for you, watching anxiously as she thinks it over.

“I dare you…” Carol twists her lips thoughtfully, looking around the room as if it holds the answers. Then she grins, almost wickedly. “I dare you to kiss Nat.”

The room erupts into excited exclamations, and all you can do is gawk at your best friend. Why on earth would she dare you to kiss the girl she’s been crushing on for a year? She just raises her eyebrows, a challenge. Swallowing thickly, your eyes dart to Natasha, who smiles, levelling you with an almost identical look.

You make the mistake of risking a glance at Wanda. She looks away from you the moment you make eye contact, leaning across Vision to swipe the bottle out of Tony’s hands. The man is too caught up in your current predicament to care. You can read the look on her face as clear as day, and your heart sinks as you tear your eyes away from her as not to draw suspicion.

Glancing back at Carol, you just know there’s something you’re missing.

“I…” You lick your bottom lip. “What’s the truth question?”

Everyone boos. Carol groans, stretching across the circle to poke you with her foot. You whack it away. “You’re no fun.”

After flipping her off, you let your eyes drift back to Wanda. She’s watching you with this indescribable look as she wipes whisky from her chin - there’s surprise in her expression that relaxes into adoration after she catches your gaze, but just as quickly as it came, the adoration is gone, replaced instead by something sad.

Swallowing dryly, you pull your eyes away from her again, focusing instead on Carol as she consults Tony for a truth question.

By one, you’re starting to round up the group that you’re dropping home — Nat, Carol, and the twins. You watch Wanda doze in and out on Pietro’s shoulder, his head resting atop hers as he fights sleep himself. Carol hums along to the music playing as you drive, making throwaway comments here and there, but otherwise, the car ride is comfortably silent.

You drop Natasha home first, and she leans around the seat to drop a thank you kiss to your cheek, grinning teasingly when you blush in response. Your heart swoops a little when Wanda makes a displeased sound, tugging weakly at the back of Nat’s shirt - you know it’s an attempt at a hand’s off, but thankfully Natasha just takes it as a what about me?

Carol reaches over to pinch your arm - hard - when you make a kissy face once Natasha is inside, but her cheeks warm and she grins, so you laugh along with her.

Twenty minutes later, you’ve dropped Carol off and are pulling up at the Maximoff’s house. Glancing back in the rear view mirror, you figure that they’re going to need some help getting inside, so you turn off the engine. You help Pietro out first, who tugs Wanda out as well, tipping a little when she stumbles into him with a drunken giggle.

You steady him, gently pressing on his back to get him to walk towards the door, reminding him to be mindful of the little step up onto the front porch. Pietro struggles a little with the front door key, until Wanda mutters something to him in Sokovian. He grumbles back at her, then lets out a pleased Ha! when he manages to get it open.

Once they’ve stepped inside and you’ve closed the door, Pietro declares that he’s going to bed. He trips up the stairs, just barely catching himself with a small chuckle. As soon as he’s out of sight, Wanda all but attaches herself to you. Arms wind around your middle and she buries her face against you, and despite your lingering anxiety, you don’t have the heart to push her off. Instead, you drop a brief kiss to her hairline.

“Let’s get you into bed, yeah?”

She nods, and pulls away just enough to let you start to pull her upstairs. When you reach the top of the stairs, however, she stops and turns towards you, and gives you zero warning before she jumps up, legs wrapping around your waist. You grunt with the effort of catching her, and she sighs contently as you hoist her up enough that you can walk, tucking her face into your shoulder.

“Wanda,” you scold quietly, shooting a quick look to Pietro’s closed door. How you would explain this if he caught you, you aren’t sure.

“You’re s’strong,” Wanda slurs, cold nose nuzzling into your neck.

You chuckle, kicking her bedroom door shut behind you once you manage to get through it. “Yeah, well, I don’t work out for fun.”

She just hums thoughtfully, and starts to press kisses to your skin. As the kisses start to trail along your jaw, you clear your throat and tap Wanda’s thigh as best you can from where you’re holding her up. “C’mon, y’gotta get your shoes off before you lay down.”

You sit her on the edge of her bed before kneeling in front of her to help take her shoes off. It isn’t until you’ve got them both off that you realise she’s watching you closely, looking like she’s about to cry.

“Hey,” you say quietly, “is everything okay?”

She blinks, brows furrowing, and swallows thickly. “Do you like Natasha?”

You frown, taking one of her hands when she starts to fiddle with them. Without missing a beat, she starts to fiddle with your fingers, instead. “What do you mean?”

“Do you…” She sighs and drops her eyes to watch herself smooth her thumb along the ridges in your palm. “Do you like her? Like you like me, I mean.”

“No,” you reply immediately. “I don’t like anyone like I like you.”

She takes a breath. “I don’t like that everyone was so excited when Carol dared you to kiss her,” she mumbles.

“I wasn’t going to kiss her,” you assure her.

“But they wanted you to. They don’t—” She inhales sharply and her voice trembles. “They don’t know you’re mine.”

“Sweetheart,” you whisper, moving to sit beside her on the bed as tears start to roll down her cheeks, gently urging her to face you.

“You could date Natasha,” she says as you pull your sleeves over your hands and wipe at her eyes, “and it would be… it would be easier than dating me. I make things so hard.”

“No, you don’t,” you say.

“I just—” She lets out a wordless whine. “I wanna be able to… hold your hand when other people are around. I wanna kiss you whenever I want.”

Teary green eyes find yours, a stubborn pout pulling at her lips. You exhale through your nose, swiping away the moisture under her eyes with your thumbs.

“If you want that,” you say gently, “then we’re gonna have to tell people.”

Her face crumples as she registers your words, fresh tears welling in her eyes, and you sigh quietly, doing your best to not let your frustration get the better of you. It would be a lie if you said Wanda’s adamancy about keeping you - this - a secret didn’t hurt. But you can also understand her hesitancy; telling her parents had the possibility of uprooting her whole life. It was a constant push-and-pull inside your head, and it was only becoming more and more frustrating.

“I’m sorry,” she croaks out, more tears running down her cheeks, and her shoulders jolt when she tries and fails to hide a sob.

“Hey, hey,” you coo quietly, and when you tug at her to pull her into a hug she climbs into your lap, wraps her arms around your shoulders and buries her face in your neck. You rub your hand down her back, rocking slightly from side to side. “It’s alright. Don’t cry, sweetheart, it’s okay.”

She manages to pull herself together, taking deep breaths as she trembles against you, her fingers curled tightly into your hoodie. You rock gently from side to side, lips pressed to her hair, muttering sweet nothings to her as she calms down.

She’s quiet for a long time, long enough that for a second you think she’s fallen asleep. But then she takes a sharp breath and leans back just far enough to look at you.

“You don’t want to date Natasha?” Her voice is small, laced with insecurity, and a small part of you curses Carol for whatever that stunt was.

You shake your head softly. “I don’t want to date Natasha,” you confirm. You press a kiss to the corner of her mouth. “Only want you.”

She exhales shakily, turning her face to catch your lips. The kiss is soft and slow; Wanda’s attempt at seeking comfort from you. The taste of whisky lingers on her lips, and though you’ve never been fond of the alcohol, you don’t really mind it if you’re tasting it like this. So, you indulge her, letting her guide the kiss with your hands on her waist, squeezing gently.

When she pulls away next, she nudges her nose against yours and asks, “You’re mine?”

You nod. “I’m yours.”

Her breath trembles as she leans in to kiss you again, this time kissing you a little rougher. Her hands find yours where they rest on her sides, and she urges them under her shirt as she tries to deepen the kiss. This isn’t the first time you’ve found yourself with a lapful of Wanda Maximoff, sharing heated kisses as your hands wandered, curious fingers sneaking under skirts and shirts. But it’s uncoordinated and clumsy, the way her lips move against yours, and when she rocks her hips forwards, a tiny moan slipping past her lips, you suddenly remember just what state she’s in.

She whines when you try to move your hands, fighting to keep them in place as you break away from her kiss. You push gently at her waist when she trails after you, hands abandoning your wrists in favour of cupping your jaw. You grab her forearms, sternly pulling her hands away from you and urging her back enough that she finds your eyes. “Wanda—”

“Baby,” she mumbles, that whining connotation still lingering in her voice, “don’t you wanna—?”

“I do,” you cut in, cheeks burning with the admission even if it’s a pretty big chance that she won’t even remember it in the morning. You shift your hands up her forearms so you can hold her hands instead. “I do, but not right now. You’re drunk, and sad. Not now.”

Her jaw clenches, her eyes darting between your own and your lips. “I’m sorry,” she whispers, hands relaxing in your hold, fingers folding over yours. “Please don’t be mad.”

You shake your head, gently squeezing her fingers. “It’s alright, pretty girl,” you assure her with a gentle smile. “I’m not mad.”

She nuzzles back into you at the words, burying her face in your neck as she sighs in what can only be relief. You’re about to try and get her properly into bed when she shifts, and you find yourself being tipped backwards until your head hits the pillow.

“Wanda,” you try, but she just tucks herself into place half on top of you. Her head settles on your shoulder, a leg sliding between your own and an arm wrapping lazily over your stomach. You sigh softly, shifting underneath her to try and sit, but she grips you tighter with a small whine. “Baby, I’ve gotta go home.”

“Stay,” she whispers. “Just until I fall asleep. Please?”

Her voice catches a little, her fingers curling into your shirt, and you can’t bring yourself to leave her. You murmur an okay and twist your neck to kiss the crown of her head before laying back down, and Wanda sighs contently when you start to play with her hair.

It doesn’t take long for her to fall asleep, but you stay a little longer anyway.

[imagines-all-day-everyday]

Privileged (36/?)

Summary: Now with a way to unchip their people, the group of delinquents head back to Arkadia with every intent on stopping ALIE. However, an unexpected visitor from a certain mountain throws a spanner in the works. *yn*’s romantic crisis takes some unexpected twists and turns as she tries to keep up a brave face for her friends.”

Warnings: death, violence, ANGST, swearing, some fluffy fluff if you squint

Notes: Based on 3x12 “Demons” of The 100.

‘Privileged’ Masterlist

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

"Becca's journal is amazing. At 26, she found a pathway to access a human mind.” 

*yn* tore her gaze away from the rover’s window to look at Raven. 

“That same year, she had to lock up A.L.I.E. because her answer for what was wrong with the world was too many people.” Raven continued as she flicked through Becca’s journal. *yn* peered over Raven’s shoulder, her eyes travelling over the rough sketches and mathematical equations. They might as well have been written in gibberish. 

“She was 27 when it launched the bombs."

“What did she write about the flame?” Clarke queried, swivelling around in the passenger seat to face Raven.

 "Well it’s A.L.I.E. 2.0. Becca saw it as a way to atone for her sins. She designed it to not just access a human mind but to merge with one. It could never wipe us out because it would be one of us. She would have put it in herself first, altered her genes so her body wouldn't reject the implant.”

“The gene therapy made her blood black, didn't it?” Clarke queried causing Raven to look up at her in surprise.

“Yeah, it did.” Raven nodded, causing *yn*’s brow to furrow in confusion.

“And you know that because...?” *yn* trailed off.

“Nightblood. That's where it came from.” Clarke explained. “Somehow it became hereditary. Luna has it. That's why we have to find her. If she can access ALIE two..."

“-She can tell us how to stop ALIE one...." Octavia murmured in realisation. 

"Get back to the mind pathway.” Monty piped up, causing all eyes to turn to him. “If ALIE uses it to upload our minds to the City of Light, then there's a chance my mom's still alive?” He queried, flickering his eyes up from the chip clutched in his hands. There was a pause as *yn* felt a wave of sympathy wash over her as she studied Monty’s desperate features.

"That depends on your definition of "alive", Monty.” Raven answered softly. *yn* placed a hand on Monty’s shoulder and squeezed it in an attempt to comfort him as the rover fell silent.

She looked down at her lap when she felt warm skin brushing against her own. She shot Raven a soft smile as Raven threaded her fingers through *yn*’s, squeezing her hand tightly once they were entwined.

*yn* glanced across from her and stiffened when her eyes met Elijah’s. She swallowed and averted her gaze from his, turning her attention to the front of the rover. There, instead of finding a reprieve, she found herself staring back at Bellamy who was studying her through the rearview mirror.

The rover was starting to feel a little bit too crowded for her liking. 

“We’re almost home.” Bellamy announced as he reverted his gaze back to the landscape in front of him.

“Miller, come in.” Bellamy spoke into the radio. “Harper, you there? Ride is two minutes out.” Bellamy continued when he got no reply.

*yn*’s brow furrowed as he was met with complete silence. 

“Good start.” Jasper remarked as the rover slowed down to a stop.

“Nothing new for us then.” *yn* quipped as she pushed open the back door to the rover and jumped out onto the grass. “Don’t even think about it” She ordered, shooting Raven a warning look as Raven moved to follow after her. “You stay here.” She continued as Octavia and Elijah jumped out after her. Before Raven could protest *yn* slammed the door shut, keeping her, Sinclair, Monty and Jasper inside.

“Keep your eyes sharp.” Bellamy spoke as he raised his gun up into position. *yn* slid her blade out of her pants, gripping it tightly in one hand with a small gun in the other. The group slowly edged out of the tree line and into the open, revealing Arkadia.

“It’s been two days since we left, why the hell haven’t they fixed the gate?” Clarke remarked as they slowly approached the entrance.

“Maybe because there’s no one here to fix it.”

Something was wrong, very wrong.

*yn*’s eyes darted around nervously as they slowly made their way into Arkadia, the rover trailing behind them. It was like a ghost town. Everywhere she looked there was nothing but empty space. It was like everyone had vanished into thin air.

“I don’t like this.” She spoke, glancing over her shoulder at the rest of the group on foot.

“Miller, where the hell are you?” Bellamy spoke, frustration laced through his tone as he picked up the radio once more.

“Maybe they got chipped.” Jasper suggested.

“If they got chipped they would have waited for us at the cave, they would have ambushed us or something.” *yn* answered back.

“Maybe they saw the open gate and went in for Lincoln’s book.” Elijah suggested.

“Maybe you should all stop saying ‘maybe’.” Octavia huffed.

“If they are chipped, then ALIE already knows we’re coming.” Clarke spoke, ignoring Octavia’s comment. 

*yn* opened her mouth to respond but clamped it shut as they made their way into the centre of Arkadia. She felt her stomach churn as her eyes fell on crimson liquid pooling in the mud. 

Lincoln.

“Let’s get his book and get the hell out of here.” Octavia spoke up, her voice cracking slightly as she did. *yn* tore her eyes from the blood before her to Octavia, her heart aching at the grief evident on her features.

“That’s a plan I can support.” Jasper remarked as Octavia turned on her heels and marched towards the main building.

*yn* hurried after her, intentionally keeping her eyes focused on the rover in front of her. 

“Close it up and turn the rover around, we may need to get out of here quickly.” She heard Bellamy say as everyone piled inside once the garage gate creaked open. 

*yn* hovered near Raven as the metal door slammed shut once they were all inside, engulfing the room in darkness. She waited patiently as Raven carefully stepped out of the rover. 

The pair wandered over to the communal area, *yn* feeling her concern levels rising as she noted the abandoned, half eaten meals with food still on cutlery, and playing cards and books scattered everywhere, as if they’d been dumped in a hurry. 

“It’s like they just got up and left.” Clarke remarked, voicing *yn*’s own thoughts.

“We should just get in and out. No fucking around.” *yn* spoke, her eyes still surveying the room.

“Let’s pack as much gear as we can into the rover.” Bellamy suggested.

“I’ll get the map.” Octavia announced, hurrying off towards Lincoln’s room. 

“I’ll go with her, no one should be alone.” Jasper said, trailing after her.

“What’s the rush? They won’t be coming back.” Raven queried, fiddling with her sling.

“How do you know?” 

“ALIE’s mission is to chip everyone, it wouldn’t make sense to return to a place she already took.” Raven explained.

“Well, it might make sense if there was someone in that place who could tell us stuff like that.” Sinclair remarked, shooting Raven a pointed look.

“Good point.” Raven conceded. 

“Like I said, let’s get in and out.” *yn* spoke up, to which everyone nodded. She could feel Elijah and Bellamy’s eyes on her as she turned on her heel to make her way out of the main room. She slowed down in the hallway when she heard the uneven steps of Raven limping behind her.

“You seem very eager to load gear.” Raven remarked when *yn* came to a stop and glanced over her shoulder. 

“This place is creeping me out.” *yn* answered, waiting for Raven to catch up with her before the pair continued. 

“Even though it was, or is, meant to be our home.” *yn* sighed, her eyes flickering over the interior of the Ark. It was strange to think that just over six months ago this had been carrying them up in space.

“Maybe it’s time to find a brand new one. One without a reminder of our shitty past.” Raven answered as they made their way into a supply room. 

“I could get onboard with that.” *yn* said as she began to shove supplies into a backpack. “Put it at the top of our ‘things we need to do if we survive this shitstorm’ agenda.” *yn* remarked dryly which caused Raven to let out a chuckle.

The pair fell into a comfortable silence, the only sound was the shuffling of supplies being dragged from the shelves. *yn* let out a small sigh as they worked in silence, letting herself steal a glance over her shoulder at Raven.

“Raven?” *yn* queried, her brow furrowed in concern when she saw Raven standing motionlessly, staring blankly at a bag of wheat in front of her. “Is everything ok?” *yn* continued, speaking softly as she placed her bag down and approached her.

“Um I’m fine I-” Raven cut herself off, seeming to snap out of a sort of trance when *yn* placed a hand on her shoulder. 

“I was just thinking.” She spoke as she turned to face *yn*.

“About...?”

“About you... about us.” She admitted quietly. “I mean- not that there’s an us I-” She stammered, feeling herself grow red at the sight of *yn*’s raised brows. *yn* stood patiently, watching Raven inhale deeply and compose herself before speaking again. 

“I just meant.” Another pause. “Even though I was chipped, I remember everything.” 

“And by everything you mean...” *yn* trailed off, feeling her heart hammer in her chest as she studied the girl before her.

“When I kissed you in the control room and you stopped me. When you told me you had too much going on.” 

“Raven I-”

“Just- just let me finish ok?” Raven cut her off, sending her an almost pleading look. *yn* opened her mouth to speak but cut herself off, instead sending Raven a nod of encouragement. Raven shot her a look of gratitude before inhaling sharply.

“I just wanted to say that I get it. That even though I have feelings for you, I understand that with everything going on with ALIE and Pike and Bellamy and Elijah... it’s too much. The last thing you want to deal with is some crippled girl pining after you-”

“Raven don’t you dare talk about yourself like that.” *yn* snapped, anger coursing through her veins. “You’re one of the most amazing people I’ve ever met. And I -”

“-*yn*, please.” Raven interrupted her once more, leaning up to cup *yn*’s cheek in her hand. “Let me let myself go.” She hoarsely whispered as tears welled up in her eyes. “For you.”

“Raven...” *yn* murmured. There was a part of her that was screaming at her to fight for Raven. But there was another part of her that was telling her that this was for the best. That it was wrong to keep Raven on tender-hooks when *yn* knew her heart was already being torn in multiple directions.

“If things had been different...”

“But they’re not.” Raven sighed. “Timing’s a bitch.” She deadpanned causing *yn* to let out a breathless laugh. 

“I’ll always be here for you *yn*, and maybe in the future the timing will be right for us.” Raven continued as she pulled *yn* into a tight embrace.  

“But for now, you need to focus on keeping us all alive.” 

“Just promise me I won’t lose you, even as a friend.” *yn* whispered into Raven’s neck as she wrapped her arms around her.

“Of course I promise, you can’t get rid of me that easily. I just need some time.” Raven reassured her.

“Thank you Raven.” *yn* murmured, squeezing her tightly. The pair stayed like that for a few moments, simply enjoying the feeling of being in each other’s arms before they both reluctantly pulled away.

“I’ll give you some space.” *yn* heard herself say when she noticed that Raven was still fighting to keep her tears at bay. Raven nodded, shooting her one last tight lipped smile before she turned her back on *yn* to continue gathering the supplies.

*yn* knew that Raven didn’t want her to see her cry.

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

“What did you find?” 

Bellamy turned around in surprise at the sound of *yn*’s voice. She looked at him expectantly as she came to a stand still, her arms folded across her chest.

“Weapons, tonnes of them. And bullets.” Bellamy explained, gesturing to the practically full armoury. 

“Shit.” She breathed out. “I guess ALIE doesn’t think her army needs weapons.”

“Lucky us.” Another voice interjected. 

Elijah appeared through the doorway of the armoury, keeping his eyes locked on the weapons in front of him as he avoided *yn*’s gaze. 

“Where are the others? You radioed everyone right?” *yn* asked before an awkward silence could break out.  

“I did.” Bellamy confirmed. 

“Raven, Sinclair, Monty and Clarke were all in the hanger before I left to scope out any other supplies.” Elijah spoke. 

“Can you try them on the radio Bell?” *yn* queried, inwardly cursing herself as the nickname involuntary slipped out.

“Uh- yeah, I can.” Bellamy nodded, clearly taken aback by the sound of the nickname rolling off her tongue. “Raven, do you come in?”

“Yeah I’m here, what’s up? Is everything ok?” Raven’s voice crackled through the radio and *yn* let out a sigh of relief.

“Where are you? Have you heard from the others?” Bellamy asked.

“Sinclair and I are still in the hanger, Clarke and Monty left to meet you at the armoury. They aren’t there?” 

The three exchanged concerned glances.

“No. We haven’t.”

“Anyone seen or heard from Octavia and Jasper?” *yn* queried to which she was met with two shaking heads.

“Is everything ok?” Raven spoke up.

“Just stay where you are Raven, we’ll make our way back to you.” *yn* replied, before Bellamy turned off the radio after Raven responded in confirmation.

She fell silent as her mind began to race and an all too familiar pit in her stomach began to form.

“You’re having one of those feelings, aren’t you?” Bellamy murmured as he studied her body language and facial features.

“Something’s wrong.” She mumbled, more to herself than to anyone else. 

“We need to find the others.” She continued, pulling out her blade and hurrying outside before either Elijah or Bellamy could utter a word.

The pair exchanged brief glancing before pulling out their weapons and following after her. 

“*yn* don’t you think we should wait to see if we hear from anyone before we race in, we don’t even have a plan if something is wrong.” Elijah called out as him and Bellamy raced to catch up with her.

“I have a plan.” *yn* answered back as they crossed the square to head back inside the main building.

“And that is....?” Bellamy queried.

“Find where our friends are and kill anyone who tried to hurt them.” She responded nonchalantly. 

“Of course. Why didn’t we think of that.” Elijah remarked dryly which caused a smirk to involuntarily twitch up onto Bellamy’s lips.

“Hey I never said you two had to come along.” *yn* shot back, shaking her head in amusement as the three made their way inside. 

They slowed down to a stop once they were deep inside the building. 

“Clarke! Monty!” *yn* shouted out. 

Suffocating silence responded.

“Maybe we should head back to the hanger and decide-” Elijah was cut off as *yn* pressed a finger to his lips. He studied her in confusion, watching her as she stiffened up and stared at the hallway behind him. 

“Did you hear that?” She whispered.

Before either of them could reply a scuffling sound echoed down the hallway, followed by a large bang. 

“It’s coming from the direction of the control room.” Bellamy murmured to which *yn* nodded in agreement. *yn* glanced over at Elijah, realising her finger was still pressed to his lips. “Sorry.” She apologised, gently dragging her finger away from his lips. 

“It’s ok.” Elijah answered softly, studying her intently which made *yn* blush slightly as she moved away from him towards the control room.

“Ever occurred to you that we might be walking into a trap?” Bellamy remarked as the three made their way into the control room.

“It did. And I decided I didn’t care.” *yn* responded as she slowed down, her eyes flitting around the derelict surroundings for any sign of life.

“Well, there doesn’t appear to be anyone here.” Elijah stated after the trio spent a few more minutes exploring the room. “I think we should head back and see if we can find the others.”

“Yeah,” *yn* let out a sigh as she finally relented. “You’re probably right.”

“Maybe we can see if any of the security cameras are still working and see if we can spot anyone. Or explore outside the boundaries.” Bellamy suggested.

“Good plan, let’s-” *yn* cut herself off as the sound of metal clanging the ground entered her ears. 

The three of them swivelled around to see a metal ball rolling towards them. *yn* stiffened as she stared at it curiously as it grew closer, finally coming to a halt when it came into contact with her boot. Before anyone could say anything the ball shuddered and opened. 

*yn* felt terror rush through her as red gas spilled out. 

The memory of being alone in the forest and fleeing from the gas before slipping into unconsciousness filled her mind. Before she’d woken up trapped in Mount Weather.

“Fuck.” Bellamy cursed, recognising it instantly. *yn* jerked her head around at the sound of the door sliding shut. 

They were locked in. 

“We’ve gotta move before it knocks us out, cover your faces.” *yn* ordered, hastily yanking off her shirt to wrap around her face. “There’s an emergency button on the left that’ll open the door.” Bellamy explained. 

“Bellamy!” His name slipped past *yn*’s lips when she looked up to see a masked figure suddenly appear behind him. Bellamy turned around just in time, swinging the butt of his gun at his head. 

The figure groaned as Bellamy made contact, forceful enough to make him stumble back.  “Hurry!” Bellamy shouted, turning his back on him as the three of them sprinted towards the door. 

“The door will only stay open momentarily before sealing shut.” Bellamy continued as they approached the bright red emergency button. *yn* could feel her mind going hazy as the gas slowly seeped its way through the fabric of her shirt.

*yn* let out a grunt as she felt something hit her back, causing her to topple to the floor. She flipped over onto her back just in time before the masked figure lunged at her, pushing their entire body weight into pinning her to the ground.

“*yn*!” Bellamy and Elijah shouted simultaneously. 

“Just open the fucking door!” *yn* called back, grunting as the figure attempted to rip her makeshift mask from her face. She leant forward and smashed her head against theirs, causing them to be dazed momentarily. Seeing an opportunity she pushed with all of her force, managing to wriggle out from underneath them. 

Manoeuvring herself so she was straddling them, she landed a punch to their jaw causing them to slump to the ground. Satisfied, she hastily rose to her feet, stumbling slightly as the gas continued to grow more effective. She would be unconscious in a matter of minutes.

She looked to her left to see the boys had just managed to pry open the safety glass and had slammed the button, with the door now open. “Let’s go!” *yn* urged as they hurriedly met her in the centre of the room. The boys were only steps ahead of her as they ran towards the door, all of them becoming more clumsy and slow as the seconds ticked by.

*yn* glanced over her shoulder, her eyes widening when she saw that their chaser had gotten up to their feet and was now hot on their heels. “Hurry!” She yelled, her heart pounding in her chest when she saw that the door was beginning to slide shut. 

She could practically feel the masked person’s breath on the back of her neck, swearing at one point that she felt their fingers scrape her back. The gap was getting smaller and smaller by the second as they grew closer.

Her eyes darted between the two men in front of her and realised the gap would be too small for all three of them to get through one at a time.

They weren’t all going to make it. 

She squeezed her eyes shut as she felt the pursuer’s fingers graze her neck and with all the energy she could muster she lunged forward. Her body colliding with another as she gripped onto him and pushed with all of her might.

Her vision was growing blurry as she felt the body underneath hers land with a smack on the ground. Her own body slammed against his as they hit the floor, simultaneously the door shutting with a sick thud behind them. 

She pulled her shirt off over her face and gasped for air as she desperately tried to rid her lungs of the gas. “Are you ok?” A familiar voice breathed out from beneath her. 

Hands were on her face and back, tracing her body for any sign of injury. She blinked a few times as she felt her head clearing and glanced down.

Bellamy’s concerned features stared back at her.

“Elijah.” She mumbled, crawling off Bellamy as she shakily got to her feet. “Elijah.” She repeated, this time louder as she pressed her hands against the door.

“*yn* we’ve got to go, we need to find the others.” 

“I can’t, Elijah is in there. We need to help him.” She answered as she tried to pull the door open.

“He’ll be unconscious by now, there’s nothing we can do right now. We’ll only get ourselves caught or killed.” Bellamy winced as the last word escaped his lips and he saw the realisation dawn on *yn*’s face. “I have to save him.” She muttered, although Bellamy could see her resolve waning. 

“Ba- *yn* come on, we need to get out of here before whoever that was comes after us.” Bellamy pleaded with her, placing a hand on her forearm. She stilled her desperate movements at the feeling of his skin against hers. Bellamy swallowed and quickly removed his hand as she looked up at him. 

A bang on the other side of the door made *yn* jump slightly, shattering the trance like state she was in. “Let’s go, we need to head back to Raven.” She nodded, her survival instincts kicking in as she pulled her hands off the door. Bellamy nodded and the pair broke out into a sprint towards the hanger. 

“*yn*! Bellamy!” A voice shouted out as they turned a corner into the hallway that led to the hanger.

“Clarke!” *yn* breathed a sigh of relief as her eyes fell on her best friend. “Thank god you’re ok.” She continued, closing the gap between the pair as they embraced in a tight hug.

“Where’s Monty?” Bellamy queried as he joined the pair. 

“Emerson took him.” Clarke explained.

“Emerson?” *yn* echoed, her brow furrowing in confusion. “From Mount Weather?” 

“How is that possible?” Bellamy queried when Clarke nodded in response.

“Because I didn’t kill him, I let him go.”

“What are you talking about?”

“In Polis. I had a chance to kill him and I let him go. This is all my fault, Miller, Harper, that’s why we haven’t heard from them he’s-” Clarke began, tears welling up in her eyes as she spoke.

“What about the others? Octavia? Raven?” *yn* queried, speaking softly in an attempt to calm down Clarke.

“I spoke to Raven.” Clarke nodded as she took a deep breath. “She’s still with Sinclair in the hanger. I told them to stay put but then I heard footsteps and that was when I found you.” 

“Ok, let’s make sure they’re ok first and then we can find the others.” Bellamy spoke. “Let’s go in from the outside, we’re less likely to get caught in a trap if we come in from the open.” 

Clarke and *yn* nodded in agreement before they all hurried towards the hanger. 

“Wait, where’s Elijah? Wasn’t he with you two?” Clarke queried as they made their way outside. 

“Raven! Sinclair!” Bellamy called out as the three approached the hanger door. He edged in slowly with *yn* following closely behind him. 

“Emerson has him.” *yn* answered quietly, guilt overwhelming her at the thought of Elijah lying there, unconsciousness and defenceless. “It’s my fault.”

“Fuck.” Bellamy hissed, distracting Clarke from asking *yn* what she meant. *yn* stepped out from behind Bellamy, her eyes instantly falling on the reason for his curse.

“Sinclair.” His name slipped out from her lips at the sight of his body lying motionless on the floor. 

“No.” Clarke murmured from behind her, the pair hurrying to his side. 

*yn* watched Clarke press two fingers to his neck as she felt tears pool in the corners of her eyes. She didn’t need Clarke’s confirmation to know that he was dead. 

“We're too late.” Bellamy breathed out as Clarke gently closed his eyes. 

“No we’re not.” Clarke shook her head. “He didn’t kill Monty or Raven, he would have left their bodies. He took them somewhere.”

*yn* stayed silent as she gently stroked Sinclair’s face.

Another friend, gone.

“If you’re right, then Octavia and the others are there too.” Bellamy murmured in realisation.

“Elijah.” *yn* breathed out, finally tearing her eyes away from Sinclair to look at the pair. “Where would he be taking them?” 

“He could be anywhere.” Bellamy sighed. “Does he even know his way around?”

“He was here. You were both in Mount Weather.” Clarke answered and *yn* watched as something dawned on her. “The airlock.” 

*yn* rose to her feet as she watched Clarke hurriedly grab the radio, bringing it to her lips. “Emerson, I know you’re listening. We need to talk.” 

The three fell silent, watching the radio with bated breath. They grew even more tense as it crackled to life, “I don’t need to do anything.” 

*yn* recognised the voice instantly. The one she’d become all too familiar with in Mount Weather. Emerson.

“You should have killed me when you had the chance.”

“And now you’re here to kill me is that it?” Clarke answered back.

“Something like that.”

“Then let my friends go.” She snarled. “Do that, and you can have me.” Her words made *yn* take a step towards her, a worried look on her features.

“Brave, Clarke. I’ll give you that. They’re lucky to have a friend like you.”

“I know what I’m doing.” Clarke murmured to her, sending her a reassuring look before bringing the radio back up to her face.

“Come to the airlock, alone. No weapons. Right now.”

Clarke let out a sigh, shoving the radio in her pocket as she turned to *yn*.

“Before you even say it, you’re insane if you think you’re going in there alone.” *yn* spoke up. “So don’t even think about trying to mater yourself.” 

“But-”

“*yn*’s right. We don’t know what happened between you and Emerson in Polis, but we do know that letting yourself be killed by him right now is a stupid plan.” Bellamy interjected, his jaw set in determination as he studied Clarke.  

“You guys have a better one?” Clarke queried, her once determined features slowly eroding. 

“You distract him, Bellamy and I can figure out a way to kill him and get the others out.” *yn* answered, Bellamy nodding in agreement. 

“Let’s go.” *yn* continued, her eyes involuntarily darting to Bellamy. The pair locked eyes briefly and she forced herself to look away, clearing her throat and nodded awkwardly, “We need to free our friends.”

Clarke watched as *yn* stole another glance at Bellamy before she turned on her heel and hurried towards the airlock.

“What the hell happened with Elijah?” Clarke queried, turning to Bellamy once *yn* was out of earshot. “She said it was her fault, what did she mean by that?” Clarke pressed when Bellamy turned to watch *yn* go.

“She-” He cut himself off, inhaling deeply before turning his attention to Clarke. “We were in the control room and we were trying to escape from Emerson. The door was closing and we were both in front of her and *yn* must have realised that there wasn’t enough time or room for us all to get out.” He explained. 

“She had to choose between you.” Clarke breathed out in realisation, as Bellamy stiffly nodded in response. Her eyes grew wide as she studied Bellamy and she couldn’t control the little bundle of happiness that surged inside her.

“She chose you.” 

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

“I held up my part of the deal. Your turn. Let my friends go.” 

*yn* pressed her back against the wall, watching as Clarke approached the airlock slowly, her hands raised in surrender.

“Tell Bellamy to show himself first.”

Fuck.

“I don’t know what-” Clarke began but was cut off by the sound of Octavia screaming in pain. 

*yn*’s grip on her gun tightened as she turned to Bellamy to tell him to stay put but she was too late. He was already stepping out of his hiding spot and into Emerson’s view.

Emerson yanked Octavia’s head back and pressed a knife to her throat. “Good. Now take out the clip and put the gun on the ground. Then get inside.” 

“Please, you wanted me. I’ll get inside once you let them go.” Clarke responded.

“I was talking to Bellamy, not you.” Emerson answered, pressing the knife into Octavia’s chest.

“Ok, ok. Just stop.” Bellamy pleaded as red liquid began spilling out onto Octavia’s chest.

“Bellamy don’t.” Clarke whispered as he slowly placed the gun on the ground, kicking it out of his reach.

*yn* inwardly cursed as she kept herself glued to the wall. She could hear Bellamy’s footsteps growing quieter as he approached the airlock. “Those are yours.” She heard Emerson say followed by the clanging of metal.

Handcuffs.

She gritted her teeth, her hold on her gun growing increasingly tight as she mentally prepared herself to take the shot. She only had one chance. 

“Now *yn* next.” 

She felt a breath lodge in her throat. 

“Come on *yn* don’t be shy, I know you’re lurking around somewhere.” Emerson continued. 

A few moments of silence stretched on as *yn* stayed rooted in place.

“Fine.” Emerson called out. “Let’s see if the other Blake sibling bleeds just as easily.” 

“Fuck.” *yn* hissed under her breath, wincing at the sound of Bellamy’s grunts of pain. Before she could overthink her actions she tossed her gun out onto the floor and stepped out into Emerson’s line of view.

“That wasn’t so hard was it?” Emerson smirked, eyeing *yn* as she raised her hands up. “Get inside.”

Her eyes darted to Bellamy to see blood spilling out onto his shirt, his eyes wide with fear as he shook his head at her, silently pleading with her to run. She felt bile rise in her throat at the sight of her other friends, their eyes all full of terror as they stared back at her. Her eyes landed on Elijah, her heart sinking at the sight of him on the floor, bound and gagged as he looked back at her. 

It was her fault he was here. 

“Now.” He demanded as he moved his knife towards Bellamy once more. 

She swallowed and tore her eyes from Elijah as she slowly began making her way towards Emerson. The second she was within striking range she leant down to her pocket, suddenly brandishing a blade. She lunged forward towards Emerson, channeling all the rage she had.

Emerson seemed to have predicted this, gripping her arm that held the knife and smashing her around the head with the butt of his gun. Momentarily dazed, she stumbled back, allowing Emerson to rip the knife from her hands and shove her against the wall. 

“*yn*!” Clarke shouted. 

“Stay there or she dies.” She heard Emerson spit back in response.

She could faintly hear grunts and moans of protest from the others as they struggled against their restraints. She could feel something brushing against her arm and she turned her head to see that Bellamy was handcuffed to the wall right beside her - so close that they could literally touch. 

“I spent hours analysing and watching you in Mount Weather. You don’t think I picked up on a few of your little party tricks?” Emerson growled into her ear as he pressed the barrel of the gun to her temple. 

“Get in the handcuffs now.” 

*yn* blinked a few times as her vision began to clear and she glanced up to see an extra pair of handcuffs that were attached to the same ring as Bellamy’s. She glanced at him momentarily before she slowly leant up and strapped herself into the restraints. She felt her stomach drop as the last handcuff clicked closed. 

“I should kill you right now.” He hissed. “If Cage hadn’t been so fucking obsessed with you we might have survived.” 

“He might have been an evil piece of shit but at least he had good taste.” *yn* remarked back, wincing as the gun pressed harder into her skin.

“Always the one putting on a brave face. Until we finally broke you in Mount Weather, that is.” Emerson chuckled causing *yn* to flinch. “If I had time I’d torture you all over again. But that’s not part of my plan.” 

*yn*’s head slumped against the wall as Emerson finally removed the gun from her head and turned his attention back to Clarke. 

“Now, get on your knees.” Emerson ordered, pointing his gun to Clarke. “Hands behind your head.” 

*yn* locked eyes with Clarke and shook her head as she watched her best friend comply. *yn* tugged at the restraints but to no avail. She was well and truly trapped. 

She watched as Emerson stepped out of the airlock, his gun never leaving Clarke’s head. She felt panic rise up in her as he pressed a button and the doors to the airlock slammed shut. *yn* flinched as she heard a thump at the door and glanced past Bellamy to see Clarke’s face pressed against the glass.

"You murdered 381 people. You took the lives of my children, my brother, my friends. Did you really think that I would be happy with just one life in return, hmm?" She heard Emerson snarl through the glass.

*yn* felt the panic begin to rise up in her chest as realisation fully dawned on her. None of them were going to make it out alive. 

She began to writhe against her restraints desperately as Emerson took a few steps back and slammed his clenched fist onto a button. The airlock lighting turned red and *yn* immediately felt the air begin to thin. 

She could see Emerson saying something to Clarke but *yn* couldn’t make out what it was he was saying over the siren that had begun to wail mercilessly. *yn* let out a scream of frustration as she pulled with all of her might against the handcuffs, pressing her feet against the wall to use every last ounce of her strength. She could see Octavia slipping into unconsciousness beside her as she felt her own strength rapidly deteriorate.

“*yn*.” Bellamy spoke quietly, she paused and turned to look at him as she felt herself growing weaker. Her body fell limp in defeat as they locked eyes, both of them with tears rolling down their cheeks. He shook his head slightly as his legs gave out from under him and he dangled from his handcuffs. 

She knew what he was saying.

There was nothing they could do.

Her own legs collapsed underneath her and she could feel her vision starting to grow blurry. She weakly lifted her head up as she felt Bellamy’s clammy fingers brushing against her own. She blinked rapidly as tears continued to spill down her cheeks as she messily entwined her digits with his. With the last ounce of energy she had left she turned her head and nodded weakly in understanding before pressing her forehead to his.

She felt her eyes flutter shut as Bellamy squeezed her hand and pressed his forehead firmly against hers. “*yn*.” He breathed out as he felt her fingers begin to loosen around his. Bellamy’s own eyes began to droop as he watched *yn*’s head loll back as she slipped into unconsciousness. 

"Any last words?” Emerson whispered to Clarke.

“Yeah, Ascende... superius.” Clarke gasped out before slamming the chip into Emerson’s neck.

Emerson spluttered as the chip buried itself into his neck and travelled up to his brain. Clarke shoved him off her as he began to gargle before slamming the button to the airlock.

The door slid open and she dragged herself forward as oxygen flooded back into the space. Clarke let out a sigh of relief as she watched her friends almost immediately begin to twitch and show signs of life. 

*yn* let out a gasp as oxygen suddenly flooded her brain and her eyes sprung open. She spluttered as her lungs began to work overtime to collect the air they had been denied as her vision began to clear. 

She turned and felt relief wash over her as she saw Bellamy slowly coming too. “Are you ok?” She heard herself whisper to him. 

“Yeah..” He breathed out before breaking out into a coughing fit as a result of his exertion. “Don’t strain yourself.” She ordered, unable to hide the concern in her voice. 

Her words made a small smile appear on his features as he squeezed her hands that were still restrained beside his. “I’m fine, I promise.”

“Good, now lets get the fuck out of these handcuffs.”

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

*yn* felt her lip quiver as Octavia let out a heart wrenching scream. Her eyes never left Lincoln’s body that was placed on the pyre in front of her. She clenched her jaw and blindly reached out to take Clarke’s hand as tears of her own spilled down her cheeks. Her eyes then turned to Sinclair’s body, where Raven had a hand pressed gently to his chest as she said her goodbyes.

Two more friends dead. Two more of her people gone.

She wiped her tears away with the back of her hand and took a step forward. “May we meet again.” She murmured to Sinclair, placing a hand on his shoulder.

She then turned to Lincoln, her eyes quickly filling with tears once more as she stared down at his body. 

“Ge smak daun, gyon op nodotaim.” *yn* whispered to him, smiling softly as she brushed a hand against his cheek. “Goodbye brother.”

With that she took a step back beside Clarke as Octavia moved forward, a flaming torch in her hand.

“yu gonplei ste odon.” Octavia spoke as she leant down and pressed the flame to the pyre.

“yu gonplei ste odon.” *yn* and a few others echoed as the wood caught alight. 

*yn* inhaled sharply as Clarke reached over and grabbed her hand as they watched the flames grow higher and stronger.

“yu gonplei ste odon.” She heard Bellamy whisper to himself from beside Clarke. 

*yn* looked over to Octavia to see her staring at Bellamy, her expression difficult  to read. *yn* watched as her face slowly contorted from one of pure grief to one of cold, detached anger.

“It’s time to go.” Octavia announced, her voice still shaking. “I’ll get the map.”

*yn* moved to follow after her but was stopped when she felt a hand gently grip her wrist. “I need to talk to you.”

She glanced up, her eyes widening slightly when she was met with Elijah. “Yeah.” She nodded, noting his determined features. “Of course.”

He nodded before turning on his heel and heading off towards the outskirts of the camp, not bothering to wait up for her. She let out a small sigh and trudged after him. 

They ventured further away from the pyre, the voices of their friends and the crackling of the wood growing quieter with every step. Once Elijah was satisfied that they were far enough away he came to a stop.

“Elijah...” She murmured, concern written all over her features as she noticed the pain etched on his own.

“I just want to say. I’m not angry that we haven’t been able to talk. I know these last few days, well the last year actually, has been fucked. And the timing right now is probably not great either but if I don’t get this off my chest I’m going to explode so-” He cut himself off, closing his eyes shut as he inhaled deeply to calm his beating heart.

“I’m listening Eli.” She encouraged, taking a step towards him. She felt her heart sink when his eyes flashed open and he took a step back, keeping the same space between them.

“I- you can’t do that anymore.” He spoke, catching her entirely off guard.

“Do what?” She asked, a puzzled look appearing on her features. 

“That- that voice and that nickname it-” He cut himself off once more and inhaled deeply. “Fuck.” He breathed out in frustration.

“I don’t understand.” 

“No, of course you don’t.” He chuckled bitterly, running a hand through his hair as he shook his head. “Because you don’t understand the effect you have on me and so many others around you *yn*. You don’t understand what it’s like to be totally and irrevocably in love with someone who doesn’t love you.”

“Of course I lo-”

“Don’t! Don’t you dare fucking say it.” He snarled and *yn* took a step back at the unexpected harshness of his tone. 

“Maybe you love me like in a way someone loves an old friend. But you’re not in love with me. Not anymore. And I can’t follow you around like a lost puppy anymore in the hopes that one day you might fall back in love with me.” He continued, his eyes shining with unshed tears.

“I can’t be the person you turn to anymore when you need to feel loved or when you try and get over Bellamy. I can’t be that distraction for you. It’s going to be the fucking death of me.” 

“Bellamy and I are done, Elijah. How I feel about you has nothing to do with him.” She heard herself shoot back. Even she didn’t believe her own words.

“You chose him today *yn*. You chose to save him over me. You patched him up after his sister beat him up for getting his boyfriend killed. You clung onto him today in that airlock like he was the only person you would ever want to die alongside. He slaughtered an army of innocent people and you would still choose him over me everytime.” 

*yn*’s lips parted in surprise as she stared at him wide eyed. She was totally and utterly speechless.

“I-” She cut herself off as she felt a tear escape her eye to spill down her cheek. “I’m sorry.” She breathed out hoarsely. “I never meant to hurt you.”

“I know.” He nodded. “But I can’t be there for you anymore *yn*. Not as a lover, not as a friend. I need time.”

“You need space.” *yn* breathed out, Raven’s words from mere hours ago echoing in her mind.

He nodded at her words. “Yes.” 

An awkward silence filled the air as they stared at each other, neither of them having any clue what to say. *yn* had just lost one of her best friends. Elijah had just told his soulmate that he couldn’t be near her anymore.

“We should get back to the others.” He mumbled to which *yn* nodded numbly. 

The pair made their way back towards the main building in complete silence. All eyes turned to them as they entered the hanger, the tension between them almost visible as they made their way towards the group. She could feel Bellamy’s eyes on her before they flickered to Elijah. He knew something was wrong. 

*yn* straightened up and painted on a smile as she approached the others. There had been enough drama for one day, she didn’t need to add to it. 

“What’s going on?” *yn* queried when she noticed everyone hugging and saying goodbyes. 

“Me, Bellamy, Jasper and Octavia are heading out to find Luna. The others are staying here to try and access ALIE.” Clarke explained as *yn* came to a stop beside her.

“Ok.” *yn* nodded, her eyes flickering between the group that was now split in two. “I call shotgun.” She continued, shooting Clarke a grin before moving to say goodbye to the others.

“And I’ll be staying here.” Elijah announced. “Hope you can do with an extra pair of hands?” He queried, turning to Raven.

“Yeah of course.” She nodded, unable to hide the confusion on her face. Clarke and Bellamy exchanged their own looks of surprise at Elijah’s words. Usually wherever *yn* went, Elijah followed.

“Be careful.” Raven murmured into *yn*’s hair as the pair embraced tightly. “When am I not?” *yn* smirked causing Raven to roll her eyes.

“I mean it Kane.” She teased which caused *yn* to let out a small laugh.

“Yes captain.” She spoke as she pulled away. She shot Elijah a longing look before tearing her gaze from him and making her way towards the rover.

She hopped into the passenger seat and was relieved to see Jasper already in the drivers seat. She leant back in her seat and let out a sigh as Octavia, Clarke and Bellamy piled into the back of the rover. 

Somehow she had managed to just escape death, have another friend die and lose two of the people closest to her due to their desire for space all in the space of 24 hours. 

“In need of a distraction?” Jasper queried when he noted her blood shot eyes and the way her smile dropped the second she was out of Raven’s sight. She turned to see him waving a music disc in front of her.

“You read my fucking mind.”

Part 37

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Ge smak daun, gyon op nodotaim = Get knocked down, get back up.

yu gonplei ste odon = your fight is over

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

Y’ALL SO MUCH HAPPENED IN THIS CHAPPY I LOVE IT <3 WHAT DO WE THINK IS GOING TO HAPPEN NEXT?!  As always, feedback would be super super appreciated and you can give it back HERE!

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[youvebeenlivingfictional]

I’m Always Curious Part Twenty Nine

Previous Part | Next Part |  Masterlist Notes: I hope everyone’s having a good week 💕

Also if y’all didn’t see, I made an I’m Always Curious Playlist, check it out if you’re interested 😊 Also toying with the next chapter being in Pike’s POV, we’ll see tho

Warnings: Cursing and mentions of canon-typical violence Summary: When I had determined the most appropriate position for the tag and that couldn’t quiet my mind any longer, I headed down to the shuttle bay.

Having had opposing pictures of her character drawn for me by Spock and Tilly, meeting Commander Michael Burnham was a bit of a trip.

The things that Spock had told me about her led me to expect someone austere, distant. But while she was composed, she was cordial, going so far as to make small talk on the way to the Ready Room. It wasn’t in the forced way that it had originally been with Jett, either. Apparently Burnham had heard a fair amount from me from Tilly. Jett joined us in the turbolift, and from there it was a short trek to the Ready Room.

I felt my stomach twist in apprehension as we neared the doors. While I had had some time to process the fact that Pike and I were in close range again, I had spent far too much of the last hour reflecting on the look he’d given me. I was distinctly out of place in the Ready Room. Not only was I the most unfamiliar with the crew, but I was still in my civvies. The Captain was already there, a PADD in hand. His eyes darted to the three of us we entered, but they quickly lowered to the device again as he said, “Commander Burnham, a word, please.” Burnham excused herself from Jett and myself, and I took the moment to look around. I ached with the familiarity - the sight of Chris’ table from Mojave in the room, along with a few other things that had made the trip over from the Enterprise. I drifted toward a window, unable to help my fingers trail over the wood of the table on my way. Jett followed at a pace, glancing at Burnham and Pike before stopping beside me. “Any idea how long Durling’ll take?” She asked. I shook my head a little. “Cornwell just said that he’d be here in a few hours.” At the sound of the Ready Room door opening, I straightened, hands tucking behind my back at attention-- And then I immediately dropped them as I scoffed, “Oh, it’s you.” “Is that any way to greet me?” Eli asked, walking deeper into the room, “You used to stand at attention, be all ‘yessir’ about it.” “I am your superior now, Durling.” “In rank only,” He retorted, coming to stop just in front of me. Despite his words, though, he was pointing that warm smile down at me, like not a day had passed or a thing had changed. And I couldn’t help the smile that made its way onto my face at his familiar gaze and teasing. After the war, Durling had been assigned to the USS Cetus, a temporary post as he awaited an official reassignment. While we spoke from time to time, I hadn't seen him in weeks. “God, I forgot what a dick you were,” Jett grumbled beside us. Eli turned to her, brows raising in surprise. “And it’s good to see you, too, Reno. Especially considering we thought--” “Oh, I know. This one got all misty on me about it,” Jett nodded to me. “Unnecessary detail,” I muttered.  “You can cry? I thought you’d gotten your tear ducts removed back on Starbase 115,” Eli frowned at me. “I would punch you if we weren’t in mixed company.” “Restraint? Wow, that’s new for you.”  We turned at the sound of someone clearing their throat behind us. Pike was there, brows raised a little. Eli smiled, turning fully from myself at Jett. “Eli Durling,” He introduced himself to both Pike and Burnham. “Commander Michael Burnham. Welcome aboard.” “Christopher Pike,” Pike tacked on as he shook Eli’s hand. Eli glanced back at me, brow raised, and I felt the urge to punch him intensify. Instead I just gave him a slight glare before averting my eyes. He knew about me and Pike. I had spent the last year with the man, we’d spent that time having one another’s backs. He knew all of my secrets— but then, I knew all of his. “We should start the briefing, the target’s nearly in range,” Pike added as dropped Eli's hand. “We’ve never run any 22-9-14s on the Discovery,” Burnham explained. “Well, you’re in luck, because the three of us ran a lot of them," Eli nodded back toward me and Jett. “Define a lot, I mean how many times did you ruin your phaser cannons after you transferred?” Jett asked. “Well,” Eli glanced back at me, “I’m not sure I have a count on the phaser cannons, but I personally ran around a hundred, and the Commander ran a number somewhere in the 300s.” “Somewhere? Where in the 300s?” Jett frowned at me. “I’m not sure that’s pertinent to this briefing, as I don’t have the same penchant for bragging that Lieutenant Commander Durling does,” I folded my arms across my chest. Eli smiled.

“Regardless, you’re in good hands,” He added, turning back to Pike and Burnham, “I’ll coordinate from the Bridge while the Commander takes care of the tagging process. Any questions?” “I’ve got one,” I piped up. “Of course you do--” “What am I tagging?” I asked over him. Eli nodded to Pike’s desk, and Pike stepped out of the way, waving his hand with silent permission. I watched as Eli walked over to it, opening a file and pulling up a holographic display of a ship. I pushed off of the wall and walked over to join him with the others, my eyes wandering the surface of the ship. “Is that a DY-100 Sleeper?” I frowned, bracing my hands on the desk to get a better look. “It is,” He confirmed, “The S.S. Botany Bay.” “You’re familiar with this craft?” Burnham asked. I glanced at her. “Few months into the war, Command was looking for craft that might be able to slip past Klingon sensors. These vessels are antiques— 20th century, decommissioned. Older metals, outdated tech, but high crew capacity.” “And the Botany Bay was used during the war?” Pike asked. I turned back to the hologram. “Only two ships were in good enough condition to shore up and get off of the ground. This was neither of them.” “Maybe it’s just being tracked for longevity, see how long it holds up,” Jett suggested. “No,” I shook my head a little, “No, Cornwell said colony when I came aboard…” I straightened up, folding my arms back across my chest, “We’re either gonna get radio silence or hear some really cryptic shit.” “That’s the spirit,” Durling clapped my shoulder, and I shot him a sidelong glance. “You realize this is gonna be a manual?” I asked him. “Ah-- No,” He laughed nervously, “No, you don’t have time for manual.” “Time or not— Look at the surface area on that thing,” I nodded to the hologram, “If this is an original sleeper class and launched back in the 1990s when they were originally being built, it’s possible that the integrity of the hull is going to be compromised. That means that the arms on the bot are going to be too rough for this task.” “What would you have to do to attach it manually?” Burnham asked.  “She’s gotta eject herself from her ship,” Jett told them. “How much does that differ from a ship-based tag?” Burnham asked. “... It’s different,” Eli tread carefully as he said so. I could feel him eyeing me critically, and I couldn’t help the way my jaw clenched as my stomach swooped with nerves. I hated manual tags the most. There were fewer safety nets: no tether, no easy way back to the ship if something went very seriously wrong--just me and a jet pack and a whole lotta hope. “Considering the fact that Command even authorized this mission in the first place, a manual attachment should be our last resort,” he added, “And who am I to argue with Command?” “Usually the second in line,” Jett answered. “Who’s first?” He frowned. There was a pause as I felt the two of them direct their gazes to me. “I resent that,” I muttered. “Which puts you in direct opposition with Commander Reno, which, given the longevity of her rank, technically puts you at odds with your superior--” Durling muttered. “O-kay.” “What are the steps that we need to get this off of the ground?” Pike asked, cutting over our bickering. I suddenly felt like a schoolkid called out for chatting in class. “Reno needs to look over craft, make sure it’s safe to fly,” Eli told him, “Your ship’s doctor needs to give our pilot a once-over as well, same reason.” I rolled my eyes a little. I was a little tired, more than a little jittery at the prospect of being behind the controls of an attack fighter again, but I had flown and been cleared for flight in worse condition. “Anything else?” Pike asked. “No,” Eli shook his head, “Barring any complications, we should be set to launch… round 1800 hours.” “If that’s the timeline, I’m gonna go get some sleep,” I straightened, “Thanks guys.” I turned away, heading for the door as I heard Durling pipe up: “Oh, and Commander?” “Yes,” I turned back, “Lieutenant Commander?” Durling took a moment, eyes sweeping down my body, then up again. “Where are we with that uniform?” I forced out a little laugh before nodding once, “I’m gonna leave now.”

-- I knew that I needed to get rest, but the prospect of a manual tag kept had set my mind racing. Instead I studied the schematics that I had available for a DY-100. And when I had determined the most appropriate position for the tag and that couldn’t quiet my mind any longer, I headed down to the shuttle bay. -- “Shouldn’t you be sleeping?” Jett almost scowled at the sight of me stepping onto craft. “Not tired,” I fibbed. Jett gave me a short look before lowering herself beside the control panel. “Make yourself useful, then, pass me the magna-spanner.” I crouched down beside Jett’s toolkit and found the requested implement before passing it to her. Once I had, I sat on the floor of the craft, leaning back against the wall and looking around the small cabin. It seemed so much more confining than I remembered— crammed with measuring instruments, controls, an emergency med pack. I directed my gaze toward the hatch in the ceiling, the one I’d be pushing myself out into open space from in just a short while. “So,” Jett spoke up, “What’s the plan after this?” I smiled at the question— just like old times. “Maybe get some more pie?” I offered. “And sugar crash later?” “Mhm. It’s the risk you take when you eat the hard stuff.” “And after that?” “...Dunno. Maybe something that actually utilizes what I went to the Academy to do. You know, speak and translate something other than Klingon, work with texts and languages we’re less familiar with…” “But we put our dreams away?” “But we put our dreams away.” Jett leaned back, tossing the magna-spanner at me. I caught hold of it, depositing it in the toolbox. She humphed, “Well, you’re morose as shit, but your reflexes seem to be in good order. Should be helpful, huh, Captain?” I frowned before I heard, “Yes, it should.” My head was turned from him, and I had been focused on other parts of the ship, but I hadn’t even heard him come aboard. I glanced up at Pike to find him standing with his hands tucked behind his back. He cleared his throat. “Doctor Pollard needs to examine you,” He nodded over his shoulder. “Right,” I pushed myself to stand before glancing down at Jett, “You’re set here?” “Please leave,” Was her smiling answer. I smiled a little myself, shaking my head before following Pike off of the craft. I couldn’t help but chuckle at the way he had to duck to ensure he didn’t hit his head on the way out. A brief wave of embarrassment crested over me when he glanced back at the sound. Pollard and Eli were in the shuttle bay, not too far off from the craft. The introductions were short as I shrugged out of my jacket and tossed it to Eli. He caught it without a question or hesitation, hardly missing a word as he regaled Dr. Pollard with the story of his part in the Battle of Xisad. She seemed to only be listening out of politeness, humming in response now and again. Knowing Eli, though, this chatter was meant to distract all of us from what I was about to do. Dr. Pollard’s hand skimmed over my left shoulder blade and I jolted a little, tensing as I sucked in a sharp breath.  “Alright?” She asked. I nodded as I heard her switch to the scanner on her tricorder. “Quite a lot of scar tissue,” She added. “Caught the wrong end of a bat’leth,” I explained flatly. “Is there pain?” “No.” “Does it hinder any of your movements?” “No.” When Pollard returned her hand to that same area, fingers carefully massaging the area to ensure the truth of my statement, I held carefully still. “...Is there a right end of bat’leth?” Eli asked, breaking the tense silence from our superiors. “The side without the pointed blade would’ve been preferable,” I told him, glancing in his direction. “You’re so particular,” He scoffed, but he was smiling. I shook my head a little, feeling the tension drain from me a little. “Well, apart from a slightly elevated heart rate, everything seems to be in order," Pollard reported from behind me. “That’s not a concern?” Pike asked. “According to the Commander’s prior medical records, there is typically some uptick in heart rate prior to these particular missions. She’s fit to fly," Pollard tucked her tricorder into its holder. I gave her a small nod of thanks. “And yet not outfitted to fly. Starfleet regulation 67: an officer acting in the interests of the Federation must be in uniform to command or commandeer any vessel,” Durling rattled off. I hummed, nodding, “An excellent point, Lieutenant Commander, but you seem to be forgetting Starfleet regulation 67-A: In the event of an emergency procedure, Starfleet personnel are permitted to eschew Federation vestments as the mission demands. Or have you forgotten who that rule had to be instituted for?” Durling shuffled closer, holding my jacket back out to me as he muttered, “Can’t recall.” “Well— that’s hilarious, because I can. And I’ll be in a Starfleet flight suit, I do believe that that counts as uniform.” “It does,” Pike piped up. “Exactly— thank you, Captain.” “Anytime, Commander.” “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to get changed and run through the pre-flight checklist with Jett,” I added. I thanked Pollard again before I turned, heading back to the attack fighter. Anytime, Commander. Two words. Easy. Two words that set my heart racing faster than the prospect of a manual tag-and-run did. Tag list: @angels-pie​​ ; @fantasticcopeaglepasta​​  ; @mylittlelonelyappreciationtoo​​ ; @how-am-i-serpose-to-know​​ ; @onlyhereforthefandomandgiggles​​ ; @inmyowncorner​​  ; @tardis-23​​ ; @2manyfandoms-solittletime​ ; @paintballkid711​​ ; @katrynec​​​ ; @hypnobananaangelfish​​ ; @elen-aranel​​ ; @blueeyesatnight​​

[clintbartonswife]

That’s Why (Tony Stark x You)

Warnings: fluff

masterlist

Your head bobbed up and down to the beat of the rock music playing in your ears, a small smile on your face as you practically danced around the lab, collecting the tools you needed before returning to your seat. Your foot tapped methodically as you tinkered with the suit in front of you, occasionally taking a break to carry out a drum solo using the spanner and wrench as makeshift drumsticks.

Your bubble was interrupted by a hand taking one of your earphones out, an amused chuckle sounding from behind you.

“You having fun there sweets? I was stood there for a good 10 minutes” Tony grinned, eyes sparkling as he looked down at you.

“Sorry T” you chuckled shyly, pushing your fringe out of your eyes, “I was in the zone”

“I could tell” 

He moved to stand next to you, peering over your shoulder at the suit laid on the bench. He let out an appreciative hum, before stalking back over to his desk.

“Is Banner back yet?”

“Nah, he’ll be another hour or so. Feel free to go back to your happy place honey. I’ll be here if you need me”

“Yes sir” you saluted, putting your headphones back on and returning your concentration to the suit. Or at least you tried.

Things had never been awkward between you and Tony, but the last few days had definitely highlighted some tension between the two of you.

It had all started when he walked into your room just as you were getting out of the shower. You had caught Tony staring pretty intensely at the exposed breast peaking out from under your towel. It wasnt until you let out a very forced cough that he had looked away, mumbling something about Bruce needing help.

The second instance was later that same day. You were in a conversation with Steve, Tony and Natasha when the topic took an unexpected turn.

“Oh I almost forgot -” Nat had said “who was that man who came to visit you earlier?”

If you weren’t so focused on Tony prior to the topic change, you would’ve missed the slight tensing of his jaw.

“Ben?” you replied, “I had forgotten my charger at his house so he brought it in for me” Tony’s shoulders tensing even more as you finished.

“Ben, huh? Anything...” Nat trailed off teasingly, pulling a scoff from you.

Before you could say anything Tony had stormed out of the room, mumbling angrily under his breath.

“Okay ... what?”

Steve snorted at your reaction, averting his eyes to the floor as he tried to keep a straight face. Clint and Nat seemed to be in on the joke as they elbowed him slyly, both also trying to keep their faces neutral.

“What? What do you know?” You asked, narrowing your eyes at the three.

“I know nothing” Steve shrugged, his tone monotonous and forced, “I am an old, old man-“

“You can’t use that excuse for everything!”

Now things were slightly awkward. You had still not received an explanation for his actions and there was an awkward tension in the air that had never been there before.

After about an hour of working in silence, you abruptly shoved off your headphones, twirling your chair around to look at Tony.

“Did I do something wrong?”

The man opposite you looked shocked, dropping his spanner on the desk immediately and lifting his eyes to meet yours.

“What? No!”

“Because you’ve been acting weird towards me this week and I don’t know why”

He chuckled slightly at this, his hand moving to awkwardly scratch the back of his neck.

“That? Nothings happened - really. I’ve just not been sleeping very well” he lied seamlessly, though his tick gave him away. Every time he lied, his eyes would dart to the floor.

“You never sleep well Tony, and either way that’s a lie. So tell me, what is it?”

You had moved from your chair and were now leant against his desk, your chin resting on your hands as you stared at him quizzically. You watched with baited breath as he shifted slightly in his seat, your brain subconsciously noting the lack of space between you two, eyes locked on to his lips.

He took his bottom lip between his teeth, letting out a long exhale before making a decision. Before you knew it, he had stood up and leant over the table, connecting your lips in a deep kiss.

“Oh” you breathed, your hand touching your lips giddily once he had pulled away, “that’s why”

“I’m sorry - should I not have - oh god -“ Tony mumbled, panic written over his face.

You quickly silenced him by climbing on to the table and settling yourself in front of him, before pulling him into another kiss.

“Oh” he laughed quietly, his forehead resting against yours, “okay. That’s good”

“It’s great” you grinned

[bamby0304]

Spanner in the Works- Ch.14

Series Masterlist

Summary: Your car breaks down, leaving you stranded in a small town. Waiting for your car to get the all clear, you find yourself getting closer to Sam Winchester, the handsome mechanic working on it. Will he be able to break down your walls? Or is this just a pit stop before you continue to run?

A/N: Check out the scent Sam from @scentsfromthebunker for a next-level fanfic experience!!

Warnings: Angst. Fluff-ish. Angry!Sam.

Bamby

When you and Dean returned to the garage, Mary was talking to John in the office while Sam continued to work away. He looked up as soon as he heard the Impala, and offered you a small smile… that dropped as soon as he saw your face.

Walking away from his work, he wiped his hand on an oil rag as he started towards the car. You expected him to head to your door, but instead he moved to Dean’s. As his brother got out of the car, Sam shoved him against the side.

“What the hell, man?!” Dean glared up at his brother.

“What did you do?”

“What are you talking about?”

“She’s been crying!” Sam snapped. “What did you do to her?!”

The office door opened then as Mary and John hurried out.

“What’s going on out here?” John called, watching his sons disapprovingly.

“Nothing. It’s all just a misunderstanding,” you assured him. “Sam… I’m okay.”

He shook his head, keeping his raging gaze on his brother. “I know you’ve been crying. I know what it looks like. I’ve seen it before. You’ve been crying.”

“Because I told Dean about my parents.” It wasn’t a complete lie… he did know you’d lost everyone.

Flinching at the reminder of what you’d gone through, Sam pulled away from his brother and turned his attention to you. The look on his face was pure guilt.

“I’m fine.”

“No you’re not.” Sighing, Sam rounded the car before pulling you into his arms.

You didn’t resist as he held you against his chest tightly, burying his face in your hair and breathing in deeply. The embrace was so intense, you couldn’t help but tear up all over again.

“Maybe you should take Y/N home for lunch, Sam,” John suggested. “Take the Impala.”

Nodding, Sam pulled back and pressed a kiss to your forehead. Guiding you back into the car, he made sure you were settled before closing the door and hurrying around to get in behind the wheel. Neither of you spoke as he then backed out of the yard and started down the road.

…

Rolling to a stop out the front of the Winchester home, Sam turned the ignition off with a sigh. “You told Dean.”

“He doesn’t trust me. I had to tell him something.”

“You shouldn’t have to explain yourself to him. Or anyone,” he argued.

“Sam… I’m a stranger, and while I don’t owe anyone my story, I owe you guys something. I can’t expect everyone to be so nice for free.”

“Why?” He turned to look at you, his brows furrowed. “Why can’t we be nice to you for free? Why can’t you trust that we don’t expect anything in return?”

Averting your gaze, you looked down at your hands as they sat in your lap. You felt your eyes begin to water again as you remembered how much you’d confessed to Dean, without having actually given details.

“Nice doesn’t end well for me,” you muttered.

There was a moment where neither of you spoke. Where you just stared down at your hands, as he stared at you. The tension grew as you fought not to cry, not wanting to look so pathetic in front of him.

Eventually, Sam got out of the car. You felt it shift under you as the door creaked open and shut. Then, after a few seconds, your own door creaked as he opened it for you.

“Come on.” He offered you his hand.

Taking it, you let him help you out and walk you towards the house. You waited as he unlocked the front door, keeping your eyes down cast as the same tears continued their threat of spilling over. Even after the door was unlocked and open, and Sam had your hand in his once more as he led you inside, you kept your eyes firmly glued to the ground.

He didn’t stop in the living room, or head towards the kitchen. Instead Sam turned down the hallway and took you down to the room you’d been staying in. Even though it was just the two of you in the house, he closed the door behind you for privacy, before taking you to the bed.

“Sit. Please.”

Doing as he said, you continued to watch the ground intently as you took a seat on the bed.

Crouching down on the ground in front of you, Sam took your shaking hands in his large ones. “You remember how I told you not to pretend? That you’re okay here?” You gave a tentative nod, prompting him to go on, “It’s true. You are okay here. I… I wanna be there for you. Can’t really explain it, but I’d just… I’ve felt like I need to make sure you’re okay since I saw you on that road.”

Squeezing your hands in his, he gave a sad smile as he recalled that night.

“I saw how scared you were. And I couldn’t help but think about what might’ve happened if I hadn’t been there to help you.” He shook his head. “I want you to know that I’m here for you, and I’m not gonna judge you.”

You choked on a sob as it got stuck in your throat, then.

Looking up, catching your gaze, Sam finally saw the tears in your eyes. “Hey.” Reaching up, he cupped the side of your face and ran his thumb along your cheek, catching a stray tear. “Don’t bottle it up.”

Nodding meekly, you squealed a little as you tried to control yourself. It took a few moments, but Sam was patient, waiting and watching as you did what you had to. Not once did he pressure you to hurry, not once did he push for you to give him anything.

“I… I don’t want to hurt you.”

Cracking a smile, he gave your hand a squeeze. “Everyone gets hurt.”

“I know, that’s the problem.” closing your eyes, you flinched at the memories that surfaced. “I… I’ve lost everyone.”

“Everyone?”

Nodding, you kept your eyes shut as you opened up to him. “My parents, first. In the car crash. Then a little old lady who fostered me.” You whimpered as you recalled how you lost her, “I found her in the kitchen after school one day.”

Sam moved closer to you then, moving his hand down from your face to take your free hand again.

“And then… then…” A tear rolled down you cheek  as your throat tightened painfully. “We were in the car… and there was another accident… he didn’t make it.” Opening your eyes, you looked down at Sam through the blurriness of your tears.

“That’s why you won’t let people in. It’s why you won’t let me in,” he noted, and you nodded. “What if… what if I don’t get hurt?”

“You will,” you insisted. “Everyone always does.”

“Okay… say I do get hurt… shouldn’t it be my choice?” When you frowned ever so slightly, clearly confused, he went on, “I know the risk now. I know what you believe. I know what you’ve experienced… to a point. So, shouldn’t I get to choose whether I take the risk or not?”

“I don’t want to hurt anymore, Sam.”

“Aren’t you hurting yourself by running away?” he countered. “I really like you, Y/N. And I wanna get to know you. You’re gonna be stuck in this town for a little while, and I wanna make the most of that time while we can.”

You could not believe this. Despite telling him that everyone who had ever gotten close to you had died, Sam was still trying to argue his way into convincing you to let him in.

“You don’t even know me,” you mumbled. “You’re insane, Sam.”

He cracked a little grin and shrugged. “Might not know you, but I get the feeling you’re worth it.”

Bamby

[cami-chats]

Just Another First Contact

For @winterironbingo Square O3: Hanahaki Disease

Also on AO3

Hanahaki Disease, Getting Together, Star Trek AU

Tony knew-- he did, he knew-- that the feeling of vines taking root in his lungs was psychosomatic and that he couldn't actually feel it because according to Doctor Cho that wasn't what was happening, but that didn't help the petals clogging his throat and choking the air from his passageway. This, he decided-- not for the first time-- was the worst alien fuck-up to ever happen to him.

Seriously what kind of weird ass fungus was this? And it sure as hell did not help that the natives to the planet claimed it was from the feeling of unrequited love. Tony had nodded along peacefully as they explained that there was nothing they could do and they were very sorry for his discomfort but it wouldn't kill him or otherwise permanently damage his system. They gave him whatever the Famoral equivalent was for a pat on the head, and sent The Avenger on its way, with an open invitation to come back anytime they desired.

Steve was a good Captain, so he'd smiled and told them of course and thank you, and then he stomped onto the ship and told Clint to get them the hell out of there and sent Tony to the med-bay. Doctor Cho did tests and scans and eventually told him-- with a very frustrated air-- that she couldn't do anything to help him yet.

That had been weeks ago. So Tony now knew tricks like not trying to swallow it down and to avoid touching Bucky too much because that only made it worse, and that he could sleep through the night if he went to sleep with extra oxygen being fed into his respiratory system. He probably could have walked around with the oxygen all the time, but the warp core didn't have a good reaction to pressurized containers, and like hell he was going to wait until this went away to step foot back in his engine room.

"Lieutenant Stark?" came Bucky's voice from behind him, and Tony jumped in surprise, hitting his head and biting back a curse.

He was already laid out in the Jeffries Tube, so he let his head fall forward onto the makeshift floor. "Can I help you Commander?" he asked, hand covering his head where the bump would appear later today.

"Captain wants to know when we'll be able to go to warp eight," he said, a hint of an apology in his voice.

Tony huffed and scooted around, crawling back into the engine room. It occurred to him now that he was already halfway out, that he should have told Bucky to go away, he was busy with repairs. "I already told him that I can't do that without a new vibranium spanner since he decided to use mine as a makeshift weapon."

Bucky offered him a hand up, and Tony took it without thinking. "He did save the ship."

"At the expense of a very important tool that we can't just replicate. Maybe next time he'll use a self-sealing stembolt and save me the trouble." Belatedly, he took his hand out of Bucky's, but he did it quickly, guiltily, causing Bucky to give a small frown, brow creasing. "Anyways," he said, adopting an airy tone and running a diagnostic on the system he hadn't had a chance to actually fix yet since Bucky interrupted him, "tell him that unless he has the replacement tool for me, I can't do anything for him, and that's final."

"I will." He made an aborted step to leave, then stopped, chewing on his lip as he turned back to Tony. "Are you okay Tony?"

"Yeah?" Tony said, confused.

"I meant with the..." Bucky motioned vaguely to his own throat, "Hanahaki disease."

"Oh." Tony looked at the console again, pretending that he was studying the results of the diagnostic. "It's fine."

"I know it's personal, but have you tried talking to whoever it is?"

"They're not interested," Tony said flatly, trying to convey that he wanted the conversation over.

Bucky either didn't hear his tone or chose to ignore it. "If you haven't talked to them how do you know for sure? You're amazing Tony, I think that if you-"

"Stop," Tony said thickly, trying to keep down the petals that felt like they were crawling up his throat like Vulcan sand spiders. "If I thought there was a chance, I'd tell them. But there isn't, so I don't." It's not like he thought Bucky hated him or something, but their relationship was pretty firmly in 'friend' territory. Bucky was a Klingon warrior, and Tony was, well, puny in comparison. He'd met Bucky's last boyfriend, and was pretty sure that if Bucky ever kissed Tony he'd accidentally be broken in half. That ex? He was easily twice as big as Tony, four times as strong, and twenty percent more attractive, objectively speaking. That wasn't enough by itself, but Tony had seen Bucky flirt, and he'd seen the people that Bucky took to bed when on shore leave, and he knew that the way Bucky treated him was nowhere near the way he acted when he was actually interested in someone.

Bucky stared at him a minute longer. "If you're sure," he said. Then, "I'm off duty at nineteen hundred, did you want to go to the holosuite? I got that lounge singer program in."

"I already have plans with Rhodey, but thanks. Maybe some other time." It was a clear brush off, and Bucky knew it.

He nodded, then left without another word, and Tony ran an aggravated hand through his hair. He had no such plans with Rhodey, so he should give him a heads up in case Bucky mentioned something. That was his plan, but then Peter-- an enthusiastic engineering cadet-- came up to him with a question about the way Tony had modified their warp engine and Tony forgot all about his idea to talk to Rhodey until hours later when he was grabbing a bite to eat in the mess hall and saw him on a date with Major Danvers. Even that wasn't enough, except he saw Bucky sitting a few tables away.

Bucky moved like he was going to get to his feet, so Tony decided in that split second that he could eat in his quarters and got the hell out of there. He had decidedly not expected for Bucky to follow him, so it was a surprise when he caught Tony's arm before he got halfway down the corridor.

Neither of them said anything for a minute, and Bucky slowly let go of his arm when it looked like he wouldn't run away again. "Just tell me. Did he blow you off for that date, or did you lie to me about having plans?"

It didn't sound great to admit the truth, so Tony said nothing.

"It's Rhodes isn't it. The person you don't think you stand a chance with."

Tony knew he should say something, but he was tired and his chest hurt, so he just sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Did you tell him? You're best friends, sometimes it's easy to fall in love with someone you know that well."

Tony couldn't help it; he snorted. "Yeah? You wanna fall in love with me Bucky?" He looked up at him, dropping his hand back to his side. "You keep talking about how great I am, and we are friends." He'd meant it mockingly, but towards himself, not Bucky.

The way Bucky immediately flushed in shame though, that kinda showed that they weren't on the same page. He swallowed and averted his eyes, backing up a few steps so they weren't in the same space anymore.

Tony blinked.

"Sorry," Bucky mumbled. "I only meant-" he stopped and cleared his throat, looking down the empty corridor.

Did Bucky... like him? Everything about him was screaming that he did, and that was dangerous because Tony's heart was raising in hope. The familiar clogging of flower petals in his chest lightened, but he barely noticed, too busy staring at Bucky. "Do you- Bucky do you like me?"

He gave a tight shrug. "I thought it was pretty obvious. Everyone else seems to know. Steve kept giving me assignments to talk to you when he could've just used the comm system to ask you himself, hoping I'd- I dunno, confess or something. As if you didn't already know."

"I didn't."

Bucky's eyes shot to him, and he looked a good few seconds from panicking.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Tony said, stepping closer, arms loose and nonthreatening by his side. "We could have avoided all this, not to mention I could've been getting laid for god knows how long."

"Uh, you sure you're okay?" He placed the back of his hand on Tony's forehead, which was patently unfair.

"What so you're allowed to tell me you like me but I'm not allowed to say it back? What Klingon bullshit is this?"

"It's not Klingon," Bucky said rolling his eyes and dropping his hand.

"Ah so it's bullshit specific to you, great."

"I find it hard to believe you didn't know."

"I'm not exactly your type."

"And how did reach that misguided conclusion?"

"The magic of sight," Tony said drily, turning to the side to cough. It felt like something was dislodging, and that was supremely unpleasant. "I've seen the people you hook up with."

"Yeah, and I've seen the people you hook up with."

They both stared at each other, neither of them willing to concede to the other even though they were working towards the same goal. Now that he thought about it, Tony said, "Why are we arguing?"

"I think because we don't believe each other."

"That's ridiculous." He coughed again. "Let's go to the holosuite if one's open. Is this the program with the dancers?"

"Should be. Strange said I'd love it." They were about to start walking, but Bucky paused. "Is this a date?"

"That's what I was going for."

"And me being in love with you doesn't scare you away?"

"You didn't say anything about being in love with me."

"Yeah I did."

Tony meant to say that he most certainly did not, but what happened instead was that he turned to the side-- with someone that felt very much like retching-- and proceeded to spill an entire bouquet's worth of flower petals on the bulkhead.

"Are you okay?" Bucky asked, eyes wide with worry as he placed a tentative hand on Tony's back.

Tony coughed so hard it scraped against his windpipe, and he could tell that the Hanahaki Disease was gone. Just like that. A love confession, a little flower vomit, and it was gone. He wasn't complaining, but this was the weirdest first contact experience he'd had in years. "Never better," he said honestly, turning back to Bucky with a wide smile. "Let me uh clean this up and then we can go."

"You sure?"

"You're not allowed to back out now Commander, you're stuck with me until I at least get a kiss out of you."

Bucky swooped down and gave him a kiss. "Do I get another kiss now that it's not required?"

"It was never required, it was just preferred."

"Sure Lieutenant," Bucky drawled. “Whatever you say.”

[writinredhead]

it’s okay

The smokes burns in his eyes. 

Even above ground, in the cockpit of yet another stolen shuttle, it’s making his eyes water and he has to blink to get clear sight onto the long stretch of beach under them, scanning for two familiar figures. His vision is still hazy and the smoke everywhere - as are the flames.

The console beeps. Two humans detected, fitting the given parameters, one male, one female, not more than half a kilometer south.

“Yes! Okay, listen,” Bodhi calls. He tears his eyes away from the disaster outside, starting to frantically flip switch after switch on the flight instrument panel. His fingers hurt with every switch he touches, his arms ache, protesting to be so much as lifted higher than his elbows, and his face is burning - his whole body hurts. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he is surprised to find that his legs form an exception. He can’t feel them at all. That is probably something he should worry about, but he doesn’t have the time, not yet.

“I’m gonna try and get us down, low enough to get them in, but it’ll have to be quick! Kay, do you hear me?” He is yelling, for once, because the crumbling planet around them refuses to die quietly, but also because everything he does hear sounds oddly muffled in his head. “We won’t have much time before they’ll notice we’re not one of their evacuation shuttles and start taking shots at us. Get Cassian and Jyn, and then we’ll get the hell out of here!”

“Understood.” The droid nods and leaves the co-pilot seat. “I will act as quick as possible,” he says and positions himself near the shuttle hatch.

Bodhi throws a quick glance over his shoulder into the main part of the ship. Baze is hunched over on the floor, cradling an unconscious Chirrut in his lap, who had still made it aboard on his own, but apparently been knocked out sometime in the last few minutes by his general injuries. A flash of worry shoots through Bodhi. Had it not been for the two guardians, he would have been blown to pieces together with the stolen Imperial shuttle, not sitting at the helm of another stolen Imperial shuttle one of the same model, planning to rescue two of the very rebels that might have just thrown the vital spanner into the Empire’s works.

Baze looks up and points past Bodhi. “We need to hurry!”

Bodhi’s head snaps back and what he sees is terrifying. The horizon consists of nothing but blinding red light and he quickly averts his eyes. This is already the second time within forty-eight hours that he witnesses a horizon getting swallowed by sheer forces of destruction. The first time, due to a mysterious interplay of chance and divine intervention, he had not been dragged down with it. He isn’t yet sure about the second time.

He pulls the lever for the thrusters next to the console and calls, “Initiating descend… now! K-2, get ready!”

The shuttle goes into hover mode, hanging in the air just a few feet above the shore of the burning planet. The hatch hisses open and fresh smoke and newly stirred up sand blows in when, according to plan, K-2SO leans out and reaches for the two people huddled together on the beach. He first grabs hold of Jyn, being closer, and hauls her in, then wraps his other arm around Cassian, lifting him too, up and into safety. Or at least closer to it than before.

“All aboard and only slightly singed,” K-2 informes Bodhi, setting down Cassian next to Jyn.

“Kay -” Cassian is interrupted by his own cough and clutches his side as his body shakes. He doesn’t even try to get up, instead leans against the now closed hatch and takes a deep breath once the coughing subsides. He looks up at K-2 and shakes his head, a disbelieving smile beginning to build. “Force, I’ve never been more glad to see you.”

The droid shortly glances down at himself, before answering. “Technically, you do not see me, this is merely another K-X model with my memory drive - and not even a well-maintained one, I’d like to point out - but I appreciate the sentiment. It’s good to see you too, Cassian.”

Next to him, Jyn drags a hand over her face.

“Yeah, thanks,” she says and it sounds deeply heartfelt. It seems to take her an incredible amount of effort, but she pushes herself up on her knees and stands, starting to make her way toward the cockpit. “Feelings aside, who’s flying this thing?”

Jyn leans heavily on the pilot seat just as K-2 says, “Our pilot, who else?” His tone implies he thinks every other assumption incredibly stupid.

“Bodhi?” She asks, incredulous, and Bodhi can feel a hand touching his hair, Jyn apparently needing haptic proof that he is real.

“Hello,” he says sheepishly, craning his neck to catch a quick look at her.

Jyn is breathing hard and her eyes are red-rimmed. Why would they not be, just moments ago, she must have been convinced that moments was all she had left of this life. Bodhi’s eyes meet Jyn’s and her mouth curves into a relieved smile.

She returns his greeting. “Hi there.”

Now Cassian, too, scrambles to his feet, wincing visibly. He’s unsteady on his feet and K-2 catches him once lest he falls before making it front, to Bodhi and Jyn. In the cockpit, Jyn takes over and wraps her arm around his waist. With Cassian supported by her, K-2 reclaims his position in the co-pilot seat and transfers parts of the controls to his station.

Knowing K-2 now has a handle on things, Bodhi allows himself another glance back and seeks Cassian’s eyes. They seem tired, so very tired, but they also emit a deep gratefulness.

“You got us out,” he says. “You really got us out.”

Bodhi swallows and nods, burning the image of Cassian and Jyn, breathing and leaned against each other, into this memory.

Less than a week ago he’d never met either of them, but right now he feels like he’s known them a lifetime. Maybe, Bodhi ponders, going through something like this alters time, making it go slower while everything around happens way too quickly, allowing it to fit in all the things that would be enough for much more than just one single life. He has no idea if this even makes sense and shakes off the thought, all that really counts is that they’re alive.

“Yeah,” Bodhi mumbles, forcing his attention back on the instrument panel. His eyes are starting to burn more and more and the distant drumming in his ears is constantly getting louder.

“You’re injured,” he hears Cassian point out.

Now that the adrenaline flowing through his system is slowly coming to a halt, he suddenly feels too exhausted to reply, ‘So are you’.

He barely registers Jyn’s voice calling out his name. Cassian also says something, but Bodhi is having trouble understanding him over all the noise, the drumming is just too loud by now.

Once they break the atmosphere and the familiar pull of jumping into hyperspace fades, so does his consciousness. Everything around him goes black. But that’s okay. He got them out.

an alternate r1 ending from my ot3 fic that is probably never going to see the light of day but they all live and our brave pilot got them out and this just needed to be said thank you for your attention

[royaliravenblade]

Technician: Life Beyond the Fence.

Less than two years ago…

           “Psst—Roy!”

               The young mechanic perked his head up at the mention of his name, his gaze shifting to a bush behind him. There hiding in the shrubbery was Aelin Ashryver, “This meeting is a snooze fest, let’s go to the falls?” Royali looked back at the Nightguard meeting, seeing most of the senior members too invested in it to notice the two slipping away. Slowly stepping away, Roy took Aelin’s hands in his own and bolted out of the hidden grove in the Duskwood forest. The two chatted among each other as the casually walked the dirt path to a small body of water that had a decent sized waterfall feeding into it. From the corner of his good eye, Royali could see Aelin stripping off her armor—right down to her panties and breast binder, “Oh sweet tea! At least give me a warning!”

Aelin laughed seeing Royali shade his view from her and she hops into the water, popping up from the surface to call out an all clear.  Royali finally peeks out only to be splashed, “H-hey!”

               “I was just having fun…” Aelin swims up to the shore, laying on her belly. She propped her head up on her hands and quietly calls out to Roy as he sat down, “Hey Roy?”

               “Hm?”

               “I’ve told you plenty of things about myself since we have met…you never really told me about yourself. I mean you don’t have to but…can you tell me about your past? I mean…I’m pretty sure everyone wishes to know the story behind the loss of your arm and eye.”

               The mechanic straightens up and looks down to his mechanical arm. Pulling out his micro adjuster and arclight spanner, beginning to tweak his arm as he thought. “It’s nothing special…I can’t say I had the happiest childhood.” His good eye looks down to the female, scratching his head with the micro adjuster, “I mean…if you want…” Royali peers up about the thick forest canopy, barely spotting the moon peeking from it.

Ten years before…

          Royali remembered Westfall clear as day in his mind: The tall grass, wide open fields with many farms planted about its lands, as well as the smell of wheat, the ocean, and fertilizer. Though the last of the smells didn’t make it so pleasant the other two, as well as the people that lived there, made it worthwhile. The farmers would always band together to help each other out when needed, and give friendly advice to those who were experiencing problems. There were even times when everyone would come together in sentinel hill to celebrate holidays together or just have a meal together.

Royali had never been a part of that tight-knit feeling of the farmer community. Though a short walking distance from the neighbors, Roy was isolated from the experiences because of his own family. Or at least what he was told was family.  He looked out his room’s window to see his mother working in the fields. A twenty-seven-year-old woman, working as hard as cattle to keep food on the table and her family healthy. Her light blonde curls pulled back in a ponytail—some strands loose and plastered to the skin of her forehead because of the sweat. Coming from the distance to greet her was a group of men all dress in a leather clad, surrounding her. The poor woman looking small and stress between the circle of troublemakers. Roy did nothing about it, neither did she. All because it wasn’t their place…it was his.

               Roy’s bedroom door burst open, letting a small cloud of dust rain down before the figure that stood there at the threshold, “Royali. Get outside and work in the barn.” The young boy stared at him. His father, Markas, stood tall, sporting his own leather set nearly identical to the hooligans outside. His raven hair parted down the middle, hanging off the side in soft waves. His gaze murderous and cold rather than looking fatherly to his own child, “Roy!” The boy flinched to attention, answering with a crack in his voice, “Yessir.” Like a pup with his tail between his legs, Royali scurries past his father, hurrying down the stairs. Once outside, the group of men averts their hungry gazes at Selene.

     “Oi, boy would ya look at that! The boy came down to save ‘is mommy!” One called out. All bursting into laughter. Roy dips his head down and walked to the barn picking the rake up off the tool rack—there wasn’t much he could do. Brooding over hard work made the tasks much more taxing. The way he handled the tools with his anger made his knuckles white and hands stiff from the pressure, didn’t help with the callouses on his palms or the splitters that wedge into his hands from the old wood from the handles.

               Exhausting work such as this and helping his mother happened almost daily. Mostly when his father and small band raid the house of the alcohol and hang around talking about what Selene described as adult business. As Roy got older the more he understood the true meaning behind adult business. Drug dealing and trafficking, blackmailing, and heists; you name it, Markas devises and executes plans for his so-called Lupine Pack. For as long as Royali could understand it, Markas had been behind many tragedies and masterfully keeping them indiscreet. The drug cartel lead by him was what was keep the farm afloat, as well as keeping his pack members loyal with fat coin pouches. With all the money that was being made from it, Roy wondered why the farm needed constant care that only he and his mother took care of.

               Even when he knows so much, Roy understands so little that he could not act on his own. How could he? Both he and his mother were so far into it, the moment they try to break off Markas would have them eliminated like all of their drug runners that didn’t come through. Just the mere thought of challenging the Alpha made Roy’s stomach lurch.

    With work finished in the barn, Royali stepped out to get some fresh air, leaning against the fence of the property. He wipes his brow of the sweat and looked to the neighboring farm, catching an eye of the family. The family was much like his: A mother, father, and a son. Unlike Roy’s, the mother was at ease with simple housework—still getting things done to keep the farm going but not slaving away like Selene. The father out in the fields actually caring for the farm he built than inside drinking and scheming much like Markas. Seeing the son last made Royali clench his trousers in yearning. The kid working beside his father, helping with the crops only to be interrupted by the slobbery love of a family dog. The family rejoiced in laughter as the son was knocked over by the dog. The father looked over to Royali, seeing him staring at them—he even gave a small friendly wave to see if Royali was still paying attention. The young male’s cheeks flush and he waves back to the father, only to see the father go white and quickly look away to guide his family inside. Royali flinched thinking he didn’t something wrong until he was forced to turn around by a gripping hand.

               “What the hell you doing?” Markas growled shoving Royali to the ground. Roy hissed at the stinging scrapes he got from the course dirt below them. “I...I…” Before Royali could say anything, Markas lift him up by the arm. “Nothing! That is what…” Smack! Roy’s head snapped to the side receiving a back hand that added brutality with the metal plate guarding the hand. Stunned, the boy fell silent not wanting to try to give his excuse of not working in fear of getting hit again.

               “If farm work is too boring for you then maybe we should try something else.” Markas tosses Royali’s arm in the direction of the house—roughly herding them there. “Get inside, dinner is ready.”

               After washing up, Royali heads downstairs hearing Selene talking in a harsh whispering tone to whom Roy guessed was Markas, “Don’t pull him away from the Farm work…him learning to care for the place is far more important than to poison his innocence further with what you do with your...your…” Markas loomed over Roy’s mother, his dark eyes asserting the dominance of the conversation, “let us not forget I’m the head of the family. If I say I want –my- son to participate in what I want…It will happen. Now enough of the protest…and come eat dinner, love.” The Alpha sealed the conversation with a lustful kiss to Selene’s neck—his hands possessively follow her curvature. When the time was appropriate, Royali walks up then back down the stairs as if playing that he wasn’t there listening to the whole time. Markas had taken his seat at the end of the dining table with his elbows resting on the surface. His chin held up by his thumbs, fingers folded together as he watched his son approach the scene. Below him, laying on the floor, was a black wolf with a heavily scarred muzzle. Diago was the name Markas gave him.

               “Sit.” The command firm as if telling a dog a command and that he expected to be listened to.

               Roy’s icy gaze shifted to his mother, who seemed to plead silently for him to sit. He slowly lowered into a chair beside Markas, bowing his head respectively. The sense of awkwardness weighed heavily in the dimly lit dining area, but Markas didn’t seem to take note of it. He seemed rather calm and sure of himself as he ate away at his meal. Roy couldn’t stomach down any of the food, partially after the smackdown he got earlier that still stung and started to color his cheek—but, mostly for knowing the conversation that his mother and Markas had earlier.

               “Royali…”

               Roy nearly jumped out of his seat, “Yes, sir?”

               “Why were you in the fields doing absolutely nothing?”

               “I was watching the neighbors. They were all outside.” Royali did his best to look Markas in the eye, but his hard stare was intimidating. The Alpha leans back in his chair, grabbing his mug of ale to drink down. Roy couldn’t understand the wrong in wanting to watch the neighbors, it gave him a little peace seeing something so blissful…so different…right next door. “What was so important to look at that it had to distract you from your work?” The tone of his father’s voice managed to drop a level in harshness, growling for Roy to be more specific in his answers.

               “I saw them outside working together and playing with their dog…It kind of made me want a dog.”

               “You have a dog and it is sitting right by me.”

               Diago growls in response to his master. It wasn’t exactly what Royali had in mind for a pet. He has seen the things his father puts wolves like Diago through—that isn’t what Royali wanted for his own companion. He wanting something just like the boy next door had, a furry friend. “He is not really mine…I just…”

               Markas slams his mug down on the table, making the whole set shake and startle Selene. “Enough with this foolish talk about getting a pet for you, the real reason why we are gathered here is for you to learn your place in the pack. Most of the members’ younglings had already made their mark in it and it is about time you grow up and stop wasting your time in peasant work.” Selene dipped her head and began cleaning the table, realizing there is no point in her being here other than to be mocked as a peasant.

               Markas goes off on a rant about how the business he is running has been expanding but the fact they can manufacture the goods fast enough to meet demands have been leaving him with risks of being exposed. As much as Royali thought it was a good idea to let them fall that way, his father would put the blame all on him and kill him if he had the chance. As his mother always told him since he was a kid: ‘Best to play along…’ “One of the pack members managed to get us some names of apothecaries they ran into…their business has been hurting for customers and are soon about to be shut down if income doesn’t start flowing in. That’s where we come in.” He strokes the nest tuft of hair on his chin, letting a devious smile crawl about his features.

“Go upstairs and pack lightly. We are going on a trip to a flower shop.” 

[hyatoro]

Hi ! If I can make a second request, how would be Gokudera, Spanner, Shoichi, Squalo and Dino's first kiss with their crush/partner ? Thanks :3

Holy shit Spanner, Shoichi, Squalo, and Dino are in my top 8 favorite KHR characters bless your soul. Also this is getting really long so I’m going to make this a 2 part thing. I’ll answer Squalo, Spanner, and Dino in a separate post. 

Edit: Part 2

Hayato Gokudera: His first kiss with his partner was after their fourth date. They were a month into dating and he felt like everything was going fine, but apparently to Ryohei and Yamamoto thought he was going too slow! What did they know about dating anyway? But it did leave a seed of doubt in his mind. It wasn’t like he was avoiding it, but did they want him to make the first move?

More questions of the sort had flown through his mind while his partner tightened their grip on his hand in the middle of the alien movie they were watching.

They had noticed his muffled grumbling as he asked himself questions thinking they couldn’t hear over the movie. [Name] had made out the words “kiss” and “too early” and suddenly his behaviour for the past few days made sense. Smiling under the light of the theater they reached out to pull his hand away from his mouth. It happened really fast, and Gokudera wasn’t even sure it had happened. Their lips had brushed against his in what felt like the softest touch ever, which is why he had questioned if it actually happened.

Once it registered in his mind that, yes, they had kissed him and shifted back to their normal position his first action was to yell, completely forgetting their setting, “ONE MORE TIME! H-HOLD ON A MOMENT. REDO! REDO!”

Luckily they were the only two watching the lame movie.

IrieShoichi: [listen i’d make out with this boy all day every day if only to see his face covered in a blush ok]

Once he had reached high school he had begun to shall we say ‘glow up’. But it wasn’t the type of glow up to catch other people’s attention over a single summer. No, it was the kind that gradually changed little parts of him. His baby fat had melted away, but part of it was him being a shut in that would sometimes skip meals in order to finish new products before he forgot what to do. He had grown taller, and his jawline became more pronounced.

But that’s besides the point.

Irie Shoichi had gotten his first girlfriend in his second year of high school. He never thought it would happen, but it did and the fact that it was [Name], the girl he’d liked since middle school, made his stomach do flips. Everytime she smiled his face would warm and he’d have to avert his eyes or else he’d get a stomach ache.  

They were pretty content with how their relationship was going since they would walk home together, and sometimes hold hands, but they had never gone further than that. But if this kept up they would be stuck at hand holding till they died.

It was on their 4 month anniversary that [Name] made the move.

They had met up at her house for a dinner date that she cooked for, knowing that he’d been starving himself lately with his plans. Everything had been going well, and hell, the entire event was fairly uneventful, but memorable nonetheless since all they wanted was to be in each other’s presence that day.

But when he had started to head home after resting an hour once dinner was done [Name] knew she had to hurry up or else she’d lose all her courage.

Their first kiss had consisted of a girl pulling her boyfriend’s face closer than they’d ever been before, a quick glance up to his eyes to absorb his cute confusion and panic, and a soft but firm kiss directly on top of his lips for what felt like a minute (but was actually 8.89 seconds), holding his face on both sides while she pulled back.

A blush was present on her cheeks as she averted her gaze, opting to look at the bottom corner of the doorframe he was standing in. Irie on the other hand, took 10 whole seconds of silence in shock, right before combusting into a pile of blushing mush, hunching over as his stomach protested as his brain turned into a hot steaming glop of love sickness and confusion.

“hhhhAAhhhhhhhhhhhhhhHH?!?!?!?! MMM??? AHH-” *poof* goes the steam from his head.

[innovatribe]

Remove #JavaScript and the web is nooooooood! Avert your eyes! 🤓 https://t.co/wIyQr3YxtU

Remove #JavaScript and the web is nooooooood! Avert your eyes! 🤓 https://t.co/wIyQr3YxtU

— Soozie*Spanner (@soozietwits) June 7, 2017

from Twitter https://twitter.com/soozietwits June 08, 2017 at 09:24AM via IFTTT

[bamby0304]

Spanner in the Works- Ch.13

Series Masterlist

Summary: Your car breaks down, leaving you stranded in a small town. Waiting for your car to get the all clear, you find yourself getting closer to Sam Winchester, the handsome mechanic working on it. Will he be able to break down your walls? Or is this just a pit stop before you continue to run?

A/N: Check out the scent Sam from @scentsfromthebunker for a next-level fanfic experience!!

Warnings: Explicit language. Angst. Like… angst. Mentions of past abuse (child abuse). Mentions of death. Yeah… as Dean put it once… other shoe.

Bamby

The drive to Charlie’s was tense. You’d sat there trying to think of something to say, but before anything came to mind Dean had already pulled in front of the cafe. With a quick order to stay put, her left you sitting there in the Impala. Sighing, you dropped your head back against the seat as you twiddled your thumbs and over thought the situation.

Dean was important to Sam, and despite your fears and unease, Sam was quickly becoming someone important to you. So in the end, you felt the need to get on Dean’s good side.

It wouldn’t change things with you, though. Whether Dean liked you or not, you were doubtful it would help with your dilemma. Your likeability wouldn’t affect the fact that you were hovering on your fight or flight instincts. Part of you desperately wanted to get out while you still could… but then there was the other part. The desperate part. The part that had been on the run and lonely for far too long.

Since your car had broken down and Sam had picked you up, things had been nice- except for the part where you stood on glass. His family- for the most part- were welcoming, and so was the rest of the town. The place was so inviting that you really were tempted to find your own little corner and make the town your new home.

But even though the temptation was there, it was nowhere near as strong as your fear.

The car drivers side door opened before the car shifted under Dean’s weight as he got back in. “Charlie said we gotta wait. She’s backed up with orders,” he explained without looking at you. When you didn’t say anything, he grumbled, “An ex is inside and I thought it would be less awkward in here… but I’m starting to wonder.”

“It doesn’t have to be awkward,” you assured him.

“You’re as quiet as a mouse,” he countered.

“Because every time I talk you shut me down, or roll your eyes.” You watched him with a pointed look. “Pretty hard to make conversation with someone who hates you.”

Shifting on the spot, he curled his hands into fists against his knees before relaxing them. “I don’t hate you.”

“Coulda fooled me.” Turning your back on him, you looked out your own window.

Despite the fact Sam had insisted that Dean didn’t hate you, the way his brother treated you kinda contradicted him. From the moment you’d met Dean, it was like he’d wanted you gone. You honestly felt like he’d hated you from the moment he saw you sitting on the fold-out couch.

“This place, the town… it’s small,” he started. “Everyone knows everyone. I mean…” He paused a moment before gesturing to a lady walking along the path in front of the car. “You see that old lady there? That’s Mrs Sanders. A kooky lady who thinks she can talk to angels.”

Turning back in your seat, you watched him as he focused on what was happening outside of the car.

“And that kid?” He pointed to a little boy hopping along to miss the cracks on the path. “That’s Jack Kline, my best friends’ cousin. Curious little shit,” he mumbled under his breath as a small smile spread across his face. Then he continued searching. “And the couple sitting in the corner booth by the window?”

You turned to look at the diner and spotted said couple.

“Jesse and Cesar. Awesome dudes. Got engaged two months ago.” Dean scanned the area before nodding to some girls crossing the street. “Kaia, Patience, and Claire. They’re three of the sheriff's adopted kids.”

Watching Dean, you realised here wasn’t a single person in sight that he didn’t know. Everyone really did know everyone.

“I don’t hate you,” he noted, turning to catch your gaze. “I just don’t know you. There’s a difference. And because I don’t know you, I don’t trust you.”

“I don’t blame you, Dean. I get i-”

“No you don’t,” he argued as he leaned back in his seat. “I came home, hungover, and found this chick in my home. Of course I’m gonna be suspicious and defensive. But then I watched her get closer to my baby brother. I watched my parents bend over backwards for her. I watched the whole damn town welcome her with open arms. Meanwhile, I still know nothing about her.” He returned the pointed look you’d given him earlier.

Shifting on the spot, you listened to him intently as guilt began to fall on your shoulders.

“I don’t know where she’s from, or why she was in the middle of nowhere when her car broke down. Hell, I don’t even know her last name. No one does.” He shrugged. “And no one questions her, or her intentions, ‘cause she seems like this damsel in distress, and they all lap that shit up.”

Chewing on your lip, you found yourself lost for words. While you knew you didn’t have any bad intentions, that it was all a coincidence, and that you’ve been just as surprised with how welcoming everyone else has been, you didn’t know how to reassure Dean of that.

“So tell me… how am I supposed to act around a girl like that? How am I supposed to trust her?”

Dealing with conflict wasn’t a talent of yours. It was pretty obvious that you were avoidant when it came to any kind of confrontation- hence all your running- but it you were going to make any progress with Dean, you were going to have to face the music and speak.

“You could have tried,” you suggested. As soon as the words left your mouth, your eyes went wide. “I didn’t mean to sound so harsh.”

Watching you carefully, he took a moment before shaking his head. “Not like I don’t deserve it. Keep going.”

Hesitating a moment, you took a shaky breath and averted your gaze before trying again, “You judged me the instant you saw me, and it only got worse. None of this has been easy on me,” you noted, earning a scoff.

“I’ll bet my left nut that Dad’ll let Sammy work on your car for free. He won’t charge you a cent.”

Brows furrowing, you looked up to meet his gaze again. “And that’s my fault, how? I don’t control your father’s decisions. And if you, for one second, think I’ll let him do something as stupid as that, then you’re an idiot. Which I never pegged you as. A jerk? Yes. An idiot? No.”

“Dad isn’t gonna charge you when you’d got nothing to give.”

“That’s not my fault either!” you snapped, and just like that the floodgates opened. “I didn’t have any of this!” You gestured to the town outside. “The family? The friends? The job waiting for when you were old enough to work. I had nothing. I love my family before I started school. And then I was tossed into the system like trash. I had no one, so I moved from foster family to foster family. I was beaten, and forgotten, and abused! I was someone’s meal ticket. And whenever someone did get close to me, I lost them, too.”

Your throat began to tighten as the memories flooded your head and heart.

“I’m not talking about leaving them. Dean, every person I’ve gotten close to has died. Anyone who has shown a ounce of care towards me, has died. So when I got tired of hurting people, I ran. I worked a few small jobs, saved up money, and hit the road. Everything in that car is everything I owe. Everything I am.”

Sitting there, staring at you wide eyed, Dean was frozen. For the first time since you’d met him, Dean had nothing to say.

“Now you know.” Turning away from him, crossing your arms over your chest, you thought to control the tears threatening to fall from your eyes. “Go get the food, Dean. I don’t want to keep your dad and Sam waiting.”

“I… I’m sorry,” he mumbled before slipping out of the car.

Once he was finally gone, you let the first of many tears escape as you began to drown in years of pain and loss.

Bamby