#and he also agreed to inform to save his friend who had his fingers cut off

[straight-to-the-pain]

I don't know if anyone else in the whump community has read 'A Constellation of Vital Phenomena' by Anthony Marra but it is genuinely a really good book and also has some of the best depictions of torture and its aftermath that I have read in fiction.

I wanted to share some of my favourite quotes, hopefully without too many spoilers as it is out of context, but maybe skip this post if you don't want to know anything at all going in.

To give a brief summary, the book centres around the lives of people in Chechnya during the first and second war between the Russian government (Feds) and the separatist rebels. The main story focuses on a man (Akhmed) who is trying to save his neighbour's daughter from being killed by the Feds after her father is taken away in the middle of the night. He does this by taking her to a hospital where he then volunteers. One of the people in his village (Ramzan) becomes an informer for the Feds after being tortured, and this is explored in the excerpts below.

‘Information the Feds would torture them for was written here on the walls for all to see. It was well understood among the men that the Feds had as much sense as two bricks smashed together. It was also understood that pain, rather than information, was the true purpose of interrogation.'

'During his first detention in the landfill, in 1995, in the first war, he had refused to inform. They had wrestled down his trousers, shown him the bolt cutters, and still he had said no. Screaming, thrashing, with his manhood half severed, he had said no. He had done that, and now he was ready to start saying yes.'

'He would have confessed everything, but they didn't ask, weren't interested, threatened to cut out his tongue and put pliers to his teeth if he spoke one more fucking word. Electric wires were wound around his fingers. A car battery was drained into his bones. God might have been watching, but it wasn't God's finger on the battery switch. The interrogating officers didn't speak. Instead he was an instrument they played, performing a duet, and in their own way they conversed through his sobs. They both wore very shiny shoes. That was all he would remember.'

'He had trouble walking, He had forgotten torture could be so exhausting. The new interrogator, the one with less shiny shoes, held him upright, using his whole body as a crutch, and helped him walk. He carefully wiped Ramzan's forehead with a handkerchief before opening the door to the next room.'

'The interrogator with less shiny shoes crouched behind him. His hands were wet. Ramzan promised everything, and the interrogator, like the parent of a child too old to believe in ghosts, watched him with disappointment, his clear eyes saddened by Ramzan's sincerity. The interrogator took off his jacket, rolled up his sleeves, laid the live wires on Ramzan's chest and mapped the border of their shared humanity. Ramzan offered his soul. He begged to be enslaved. The known universe contracted to the limits of the cement floor, and on it, the interrogator was both man and deity, prophet and god. By ten o'clock the interrogator with less shiny shoes asked his first question. By eleven the electrical wires were unwound from Ramzan's fingers. By noon he was allowed to dress. By one he was on the FSB payroll. He kept thanking the interrogator with less shiny shoes.'

‘Greed didn’t motivate his informing, at least not primarily; primarily he informed by necessity, to survive, for his love and hate and above all awe of the power wielded by the interrogating officer with less shiny shoes.'

'That was his greatest fear. Could he stay silent? Could he withstand what awaited him? He told himself that his love for the girl should fortify him against any torture, but this, like so much of what he told himself, was a lie. After all, he was squeamish at the sight of blood, what would he say when lying in a puddle of his own? But he saw no other way. He would pray for the strength to stay silent, for a quick heart attack, and leave the rest to God.' (This is Akhmed POV)

'When they threatened to beat me, I said nothing, Akhmed. When they threatened to beat me, I said nothing. When they threatened to electrocute me, I said nothing. When they threatened to castrate me, I said nothing. I said nothing, Akhmed. Whatever you think of me, you remember that once I said nothing when a wiser man would have sung. And the interrogators, they couldn't believe it. They called in others to examine me. I was there on the floor, and above their faces were dark ovals silhouetted by the ceiling lights. They had beaten me hard and I couldn't hear right, but I kept saying no, with every breath I had. The main reason they let me go, the only reason they didn't shoot me right there was out of perverse respect, some sort of professional courtesy. But I wish they had shot me, Akhmed, because the good part of me died there, and all this, everything since, has been an afterlife I'm trying to escape.'

‘I knew what was coming. I knew it never stops. They put a shame inside you that goes on like a bridge with no end, the humiliation, the fucking humiliation of knowing that you are not a human being but a bundle of screaming nerve endings, that the torture goes on even when the physical hurt quietens. People treated me differently when I came back the first time.'

[muddyorbsblr]

observing. learning. fantasizing.

See my full list of works here!

Summary: Loki's just been made King of Asgard and he needs to make sure that he tells you vital piece of information about him before you hear it from gossip mongerers among the realm

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: 18+ (minors & pearl clutchers dni you've been warned) | smut; p in v; loss of virginity (m); fingering; oral sex (f receiving)

Things to be aware of: best friends to lovers

"Now when standing with a nobleman it is important to always stand a considerable distance behind him, and always to his left. This is to symbolize--Lady Y/N, I truly do understand that you would much rather your training be in the combat fields, but you are still a lady. The curriculum decided upon by the Queen was you were to undergo a full day of training in the ways of ladyship every fourth day of the week." 

You grumbled from your seat, your elbow propped on the desk as you slumped your chin down on your palm as a show of how increasingly dull you found this session…and every session before it. "While I also understand your intention of teaching me the ways of being a good nobleman's wife, Madame Adrianna, I simply fail to see the purpose of these lessons, considering that I have no intention to be simply a breeding station for some nobleman. And if this is truly the curriculum, then please do indulge me and tell me how come Lady Sif or Sir Fandral are not in attendance?"

She smiled down at you as if you were a petulant child looking for someone to drag into a punishment with you, which admittedly at the moment, you felt like that as well. "Lady Y/N, that is because they followed their curriculum when you were all much younger. If I recall correctly, instead of attending your lessons, you ran around wreaking havoc all over the palace and sitting in on magic lessons with Prince Loki." 

Madame Adrianna chuckled at your reaction of pursing your lips before breaking into a smug, tight-lipped smile as you recalled all the shenanigans you'd gotten yourself into throughout the centuries past at the influence of your best friend, the god of mischief, Asgard's dark prince. Though to you he was simply Loki, once a brilliant and misunderstood boy, and now a brilliant and misunderstood man who wielded his magic as if it were an extension of his body. 

What you wouldn't give for him to break into your lesson right now and save you from this boredom. And what you wouldn't give for him to feel even a sliver of affection towards you like you did for him. Hel, what you wouldn't give in order to acquire a potion that would make you look like the women in the leisure inns he was so frequently spotted in. 

I wonder if any of those women ever had to attend an etiquette class, you thought to yourself.

"And your thoughts have wandered off again," your instructor commented, snapping her fingers to call you back into the room. "Lady Y/N, if you are to be the prince's betrothed, you--" 

"What? Betrothed?" you snorted, earning you a stern look from her. "I assure you I am not to be betrothed to anyone. Loki is simply my dearest friend. Nothing more." You did your best to mask the bitterness in your tone at the end, but she still caught on, giving you a knowing smirk.

"Well, at least pay attention in our lessons so that you may learn to hide your disappointment better, because that, my dear, was atrocious." Both of you ended up chuckling over her remarks, agreeing to instead be taught how to mask one's emotions so that you could stop wearing them on your sleeve. 

Norns forbid that you lost your best friend all because you couldn't keep your envy over all the women he most definitely bedded at bay. 

Your lesson was once again interrupted, only this time not by your daydreaming. Rather it was jolted into silence by the sound of sharp, loud knocks on the classroom door. A member of the Einherjar peeked through the threshold. "Madame Adrianna, I apologize profusely to have to cut your lesson short. The King has ordered to see Lady Y/N." 

His words immediately brought you to your feet, apologizing to your instructor for having to take your leave so hastily. But when the King orders one's presence, one is obligated to make haste. You walked as fast as your legs could take you toward the throne room, pausing only when you heard some of the Allfather's chambermaids speaking of his current predicament.

"Odin's fallen to the Odinsleep," you muttered to yourself, your pace slowing. "Meaning that he is not King at the moment. It is not he who ordered my presence. And Thor's been banished to Midgard, which means--" 

You stopped in your tracks as the realization dawned on you. You had been heading to the throne room under the assumption that it was Odin who summoned you, when really it was…

"Loki," you exhaled his name in a panic, turning around and running toward his chambers. 

When you arrived at his chambers the palace guards stationed outside immediately opened his doors, announcing your presence. You stepped inside, walking a path all too familiar to you toward his study, puzzled to find no one there. After a few moments of roaming each area of his chambers and calling out his name, you found him in his bed chamber, sitting mutely on a chaise and holding Gungnir in  his hands.

"Would you prefer to be called Your Majesty or My King?" you called out in the most lighthearted tone  you could manage. In truth you were doing everything in your power to remain seemingly unfazed because the mere notion of calling him "My King" had you feeling the unmistakable pooling of arousal between your legs. 

His deep chuckle didn't help alleviate that growing ache one bit. "You know that I will always prefer you call me by my own name, darling. But if you insist on using my title, then I would prefer 'My King'," he answered you with a playful smirk, the ache in your core intensifying. "Y/N, I must tell you something. Before the entirety of Asgard hears of my new station and it reaches your ears in a manner beyond my control." His gaze met yours with a pleading look before his eyes began to darken as he roamed your form, biting his lip as he did.

"Alright out with it," you said with an exaggerated sigh, a pitiful attempt to mask how your heart constricted at the sight of what he'd just done. He looked back at you with furrowed brows as you explained, "You always make fun of me on Etiquette Day because I have to wear a dress, so go on. Out with it." You righted your stance animatedly for added effect. "With respect, of course. My King." 

"Is it already the fourth day of the week?" he murmured. "Truthfully, Y/N, I'd forgotten without the presence of my oaf of a brother constantly reminding the entire palace that it is 'his day'," he said the final part in his best impression of Thor, making you burst out in laughter. When he rose to his feet and placed Gungnir to stand against the wall, your heart caught in your throat once more, making it difficult to breathe especially when he strode toward you and framed your face gently with his large hands. "No jokes today, darling," he said softly, his thumbs gently stroking your cheeks. "You look divine. As you always do." 

You found it impossible think clearly when he was standing this close to you, touching you as he was now, speaking words of such tenderness that your mind began to wander off and speculate on whether this was how he'd speak to those women that he romanced in the leisure inns he frequented. That line of thinking left a bitter taste in your mouth, causing you step back from him. 

"So erm…" You cleared your throat, trying desperately to mask how flustered he'd made you over the last few moments. "What was it you wished to tell me? Surely you did not send an Einheri to extract me from my ever captivating etiquette classes with Madame Adrianna simply to tell me that I do not look like a complete jester today." 

"Darling you never look like a jester." His tone almost sounded stern, as if he did not appreciate the wording you'd chosen to describe yourself. He stepped toward you again, taking your hands in his. "I know of the talks in the palace regarding the places that I visit when night befalls the realm." 

You sighed sharply, exasperated already with where the conversation was about to turn. "Loki I know  about your time in the leisure inns. The palace staff, the soldiers, they all run on gossip mongering to get through their daily drudgeries. I've already heard that you're seen there frequently, this isn't new information to me. You really need not go into lurid detail--"

"You don't know everything, Y/N," he cut you off, the desperation in his voice evident now. "The things you're about to hear from everyone around you, about what I do when I go there--"

"I'm going to stop you right there, Loki," you spoke, pulling your hands out of his hold and firmly gripping his forearms to make him listen to you. "I care not to hear about the things you've done to these women in these places. That is entirely your business and you need not make it mine--"

"I haven't done anything!" His raised tone caused you flinch the slightest, the irritation on his face fading into a mix of regret and pain once he noted your reaction. "I haven't ever done anything…with anyone," he elaborated more slowly, more calmly. "Those are the revealing truths that will be spread around like wildfire once it's been announced that I've become King. That information was never quite as scandalous before because I was not heir, let alone King; now people will wield that knowledge like a weapon because--"

"Because who would respect a ruler that never even experienced something as basic as laying with another," you breathed out, the confusion rife in your tone. "I don't understand, though. All this time in the leisure inns and you were--"

"Spectating," he answered quietly, a slight tinge of embarrassment coloring his expression. "Observing. Learning." Your pulse beat violently against your neck as you watched his gaze flicker to your lips. "Fantasizing," he finished, shifting his gaze to meet yours.

You scoffed in disbelief. "Fantasizing?" you repeated. "Why in the Nine would you be fantasizing when you could have any woman in the realm that you desire?" 

He began to walk you backward until your back was pressed against a column, your breathing coming out staggered and shaky as he let go of your hands, now resting one at the curve of your waist and the other cupping your jaw, his fingers gently weaving their way into your hair. "Because I've only ever desired one woman all my life. And I've tried to be content with simply being her friend. Her best and dearest friend," he hissed, the shock sinking in with every word he uttered.

Could it be possible? you thought to yourself. 

"But if the truth is to come out about my experiences, or in my case my lack thereof, then I suppose this truth should come out as well." He placed his thumb against your lips, leaning in until your noses were touching. "I spectate at those couples and I fantasize that it's us. That I am the one eliciting such lustful noises from you. That it is my name you scream and sigh when  your pleasure crests and tapers." 

Coherent thoughts had escaped you as you processed his words, your mind filled with the possibilities of the fantasies he'd conjured in his vast imagination. "Why--" you choked out, barely able to even form words. "Why'd you never--"

"You deserve the best that the Nine has to offer," he said simply. "I am not--I simply am not. But I needed you to hear the truth from me now before anyone else's words may have reached your precious little ears." He placed a soft kiss to the tip of your nose. "I desire you, darling Y/N. For as long as I could remember all I've longed was to be yours. And to make you mine in return." 

He rested his forehead against yours as he wrapped his other arm around your waist and pressed your body flush against his, making you let out a sharp gasp as you felt his hardening member pressing against your lower stomach. "What if--" you breathed out, struggling to form words. "What if that sentiment was returned?" 

You could feel his hand tracing up the laces at the back of your dress, his breathing as labored and as heavy as yours. "Then there is one final truth to reveal." He pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth, speaking his next words against your skin. "I want it to be you. I crave for you to be my first. My only." He pressed another kiss to your skin. "Ever since we were mere children sparring with wooden weapons because we were not strong enough or big enough to lift real blades. Since then I've only longed for you." 

His words felt like a dream to you. They didn't feel real. To hear him say that all this time your feelings had been returned? That the centuries past had been spent with you both in states of longing, never knowing until today that the other had felt the same? The elation felt too exquisite to be real. Perhaps it wasn't.

"Am I dreaming?" you breathed out, feeling your body begin to grow faint as you kept striving to process the situation, becoming more and more overwhelmed with his proximity, his touch, his scent. As if he were flooding all your senses. "This doesn't feel real. All this time?" You grew heady with the feel of him pressing more kisses to your skin, his hold on you tightening by the slightest, pressing himself even closer to you if that were even possible. "We've squandered so much time." 

Those words seemed to set something in him alight as he tilted his head enough that the next kiss he gave you was to your lips. And the moment your lips finally met it felt as if electricity had spread throughout the entirety of your body, as if you were finally jolted to life after merely existing for so agonizingly long. 

You stayed there for what felt like hours, your tentative kisses increasing in passion and desperation, as if you were trying to compensate for all the wasted centuries with each touch of your lips. Your little whimpers turned more and more lustful as his hands roamed your body, and even more so the moment his hand cupped the back of your neck, holding you in place when his mouth slanted over yours and his tongue slid against yours. 

"I've longed for you, too," you managed to say as you gasped for breath when you both finally pulled away and he proceeded to press tender kisses to your neck. "Please," you said in a whimper as he found a sensitive spot between your neck and shoulder and proceeded to lightly suck on the spot, making you arch your neck toward him. "Make me yours," you sighed as he hummed a sound of contentment against your skin.

"You must tell me if I hurt you, Y/N. Promise me," he pleaded as his hands went to the back of your dress, fumbling along the lacing and beginning to undo the ties. You could only smile sweetly at him for his concern as he went on. "I've read that…that it could hurt. I don't want to hurt you, I love you--" He caught himself too late and his eyes widened in sheer horror as he watched yours start tearing up. "I didn't mean for it to come out like that--"

"I love you, too," you said hurriedly, as if the words couldn't escape you fast enough.  You pulled him towards you to kiss him again before telling him, "You need not worry about hurting me. You can't." Tears welled in your eyes as you explained further. "You won't be my first. And because of that you cannot be my only. But I want you to be my last." 

At that moment he finally successfully untied and unlaced the bodice of your dress, a victorious grin adorably pulling at the corners of his mouth before he grasped your waist and pulled you flush against his body to kiss you decadently. He slowly, methodically, stripped you of your dress, placing his lips upon your skin as it was exposed to him. 

Once your dress and smallclothes hit the floor of his bed chamber he took a step back, taking in your naked form. "Exquisite," he breathed out, reaching out to tuck his fingers under your chin to tilt your head up at him. "I would like to show you what I've learned. If you'll let me." 

All air left your lungs as you mutely nodded your response and with a wave of his hand, the leather and metal of his armor disappeared in a flash of green, baring himself to you. "I wanted to do that," you mumbled with a playful pout.

"Next time, my love," he chuckled before placing a kiss on your lips, lifting you so easily into his arms as he carried you to his bed. Once he had you laid out before him on the mattress, he hovered over you, capturing your lips in a frantic kiss. "Do I need to ready you?" he asked tentatively.

You'd felt him faintly earlier but you couldn't quite give him a sure answer. "Let me see you." He stepped back to allow you to peruse him in all his glorious nakedness. You took a moment to appreciate his lithe form, the power emanating from the well-defined but not bulky muscles all throughout his torso and arms, before letting your gaze travel down. The sight that greeted you made your breath catch in such an unflattering sound as you laid your eyes on his erection. "Yes," you blurted out in a mix of shock and panic. "If you don't you might actually hurt me." 

Though you were no stranger to the experience of laying with another, you were most definitely not experienced in sharing a bed with someone so…well-equipped. You had no doubts that if he tried to enter you as you were now, the stretch alone would ensure you would be walking rather uncomfortably the following morning. 

He stepped toward the bed once more and tentatively touched  his fingers to your ankle, his soft touch trailing up the entire length of your leg until they met the outside of your folds. You bit your lip as he teasingly ran his fingers lightly along, refusing to push any further. At the risk of his mischievous nature getting the better of him, you decided to goad the god. "I believe this is the part where you show me what you've learned from the last few centuries, my King." 

Loki simply smirked at you as he pressed further against your folds, gasping softly once his digits made contact with your wet, heated core. "Oh, my darling Y/N…" he breathed, his touch becoming firmer as he slowly stroked up the length of your slit until he had your hips jerking violently against his touch once his digits met the aching and swollen bundle of nerves above your entrance.

"Fuck!" you cried out with an obscene moan as he guided his movements based on how your body reacted to him. You watched with widened eyes as he sunk to his knees, bringing his face level to your sex, your pleasured screams echoing around the room when he licked into your entrance before latching his lips onto your clit, sucking lightly as his tongue flicked over the sensitive nub.

Your breathing grew labored as he placed his free hand on your inner thigh, holding you open for him to continue his attentions before placing that same leg over his shoulder and giving you no escape from his mouth. The god had you letting out a sound that could only be described as a squeak once you felt his fingers return to your heated passage and push their way inside, prodding and scissoring at your walls. 

Norns, he'd learned this simply from watching? You couldn't dare imagine how thoroughly he would surely destroy you once he'd memorized every minute reaction of your body to his actions. Once he'd had enough time to practice and he'd learned how to play your body like a virtuoso with an instrument. 

When you could feel the coil tightening in your body, your walls clenching unashamedly around his fingers, you whimpered a broken plea of his name. "I--I'm…I'm--" 

"Shh, darling," he spoke against you, the vibrations from his voice pushing you ever closer to completion. "I've got you," he said before giving you a wicked grin and once again closing his lips over your clit and resuming his pace, his digits now moving as if they were searching for that spot inside of you that would push you over the edge. And then he curled his fingers, finding that very spot and setting your body aflame once again.

You yelled his name with a salacious moan as you arched your back off the bed and came on his fingers. All that you could utter were whimpered utterances of his name and how you loved him while he shamelessly lapped at your release as you came down from your high. 

When you felt you could think coherently again, you breathed out, "You are going to absolutely ruin me, do you know that?" He didn't answer you; instead, he hovered over you once more and lined the tip of his shaft to your still clenching entrance, pressing his lips to your neck as he pushed his way inside you in slow, careful thrusts.

"Oh Y/N. My dear heart," he rasped in your ear. "That isn't even the beginning of what I've learned in these last few centuries." He let out a staggered cry of your name once he'd fully sheathed himself in you as you uttered a broken moan. "Are you alright, my love? Have I hurt you?" he asked frantically, pressing tender kisses to your cheek and temple. 

"No," you whimpered. "You're perfect. Absolutely devastatingly perfect." You pressed a fevered kiss to his shoulder, your heart swelling at the turn of events today had taken. He let out a sigh of audible relief, his breath ruffling the fringe hairs at the crown of your head, before pressing one more kiss to your temple and beginning to move in a slow, tender pace. 

"You feel sublime," he whispered through staggered breaths. "I'm sorry I won't--"

"It's okay," you cooed, weaving your fingers through his raven hair and pressing a kiss to his neck. "Lasting longer comes with practice. At least I think it does. Just let go." You tilted your head so your lips could meet in a breathless, impassioned kiss. "I've got you." 

You moaned into each other's mouths as his pace staggered, hips jerking uncontrollably against yours as you felt him spilling his seed into you. Then your eyes snapped open as you felt his hand slowly reach between you and start rubbing against your already overstimulated clit, sending you past the brink of your own ecstasy as well. 

With a final exhale, he pulled out of you and dropped unceremoniously beside you onto the bed, his arm reaching over to pull you into a sated embrace. As his chest heaved trying to catch his breath, his eyes met yours, filled with unmistakable elation as he breathed the words, "Marry me." 

You instinctively wanted to sass him about proposing to the first woman he laid with, but you stopped yourself as you took into consideration the words he'd said earlier. This situation wasn't the type to be questioned with 'Already?', but rather the type to be concluded with 'Finally'. Centuries of both of you spent believing that your love had been one-sided…you knew there was only one correct response.

"Yes." As he leaned into press his lips to yours, however, you simply couldn't resist. "My King." 

A/N: I remember seeing a comment a long time ago in another fic (not sure if it was here or on AO3) that there's only a very small selection of Virgin!Loki fics to choose from, and truly I hope this piece is a worthy addition to that group of stories. (But if it's not, don't tell me I cry easily--)

Everything taglist: @lokisgoodgirl @lokischambermaid @imalovernotahater @my-gf-loki @lucylaufeyson3 @thomase1 @springdandelixn @fictive-sl0th @mochie85 @laliceee @xorpsbane @gigglingtigger @silverfire475 @cabingrlandrandomcrap @vickie5446 @salempoe @lokixryss @sinsandguilt @lokidbadguy @alexakeyloveloki @glitterylokislut @arch-venus25 @freefrommars @littlemortals @cakesandtom @girl-of-multi-fandoms @mischief2sarawr @thedistractedagglomeration @five-miles-over @goblingirlsarah @peaches1958 @huntress-artemiss @lilibet261 @iobsessoverfictionalmen @holymultiplefandomsbatman @lovingchoices14 @avoliax @devilsadvocactus @purplegrrl27 @lokiprompts @sititran @imherefortomhiddleston @ladyjames78 @stupidthoughtsinwriting @kikster606 @evelyn-kingsley @kats72 @ronnieissupermegafoxyawesomehot @creationsbyme @coldnique

[luckyduck0]

🜸ultra comet fire🜸

“So, you mean to tell me that in the span of one hour,” A voice says, holding up their pointer finger. “You served a guy named Nyxx, coffee, and then got saved by him from a giant mutant lizard-scorpion-whatever, and then he took you to the hospital?”

Nodding, Xen stared sheepishly at the person in front of her. “Yup, that about sums it up.”

The person in question was Xen’s friend, Sandy, who was treating her to a fast-food dinner after hearing about her hospital visit.

“Jeez, how’s that work? Did he just leave ya there?” Sandy asks, stuffing a fry into her mouth.

“No, no!” Xen denies, shaking her head. “He stayed until the doctor said I was good to go. Then he actually…drove me home?”

“What?!” Sandy exclaimed, slapping her hands on the table. “You let some random guy drive you to your house?!”

“He’s not random! And he was just doing it cause he was nice!”

Sitting back down barely containing herself, Sandy breathed deeply. Now, Xen was going to get an earful, as well as a long parental lecture about boys.

“Alright, alright. So, he saved you?”

Arching a brow, Xen answers hesitantly. “Yes?”

“And you sensed no ulterior motives?” Sandy questioned, looking Xen in the eyes.

“Of course not.” Xen replied, stern.

She may have only know him for a short while, but Xen could tell Nyxx was different. A good different. He saved her, went of his to get her help and make sure she got home. He was mysterious and a little standoffish, but he still did so much for her.

“Then…I guess there’s really nothing to worry about.” Sandy said, slumping back against the booth seat. “Just, call me next time you get into danger, alright? This city’s got a shit ton of problems, I don’t need you getting kidnapped by a league of evil-doers as one of them, got it?”

Sighing with relief, Xen nodded happily. “Will do, San! Anyway, wanna go see a movie? There’s this new one that just came out, it’s about like, aliens or something!”

“Yeah, sure.” Sandy agreed, pushing up from the table with Xen.

—

(Fifteen minutes earlier)

Smoke fills the air as a fire raged inside a burning building. Police and firefighters had rushed to the scene, conveniently not noticing a tall figure jump out of a third-story window.

“Didn’t I tell you not to make a mess this time”

Ada’s voice pierced through the comm, making Nyxx wince from the sound.

“It was tougher than expected.” He replied, landing on the sidewalk and easing through the crowds.

“Clearly! You knocked down a building, Nyxx!” Ada yelled.

“I didn’t knock it down,” Nyxx stated, turning into an alley. “That stupid Flame Ghoul was stronger than I realized. A lot stronger than Intel told us. Not my fault he’s a lousy informant.”

With ease, he climbed up an apartment buildings’ fire escape and landed on a roof.

Ada groaned and Nyxx could practically hear the pinching of her nose. “Listen, we just got another report that says those damn Imps are out and about again, so get to these coordinates and I’ll meet you there. We’ll talk about your…screw-up with the Sergeant later.”

“Whatever.” Nyxx replied, cutting the comm off.

He glanced at his wrist, where a fancy, high-tech looking watch set. A hologram appeared as he jumped from roof to roof, coordinates showing what looked to be a location not far from where he was.

Great, he thought, now I’ll get a lecture in person too.

Ada was sort of his superior, in a way. She was a third year at EDEN and had lots of experience under her belt. She was the one recruited him in the first place, actually.

However, that didn’t make her mom-ing any less annoying.

—

Xen hadn’t thought about that night very much. In fact, she’d barely thought about it at all! She had much more important things to worry about…

…is what she would have said, if her near-death experience plus also getting save by a really hot guy hadn’t totally turned her brain into mush.

When he brought her to hospital, he insisted he could pay for any expenses. She wanted to object, but she was also a poor, fresh-out-of-college graduate and had eight dollars to her name. Then after that, he insisted to take her home himself, as she could still possibly be in danger.

“I’ll get ya home, least I can do after all this. Oh, and…hold on..” He mumbled, pulling out a piece of paper and writing on it. “Here ya go, it’s my number. In case anything happens, call me. I’m not sure how that monster behaves yet, so it’s possible it might come after ya, so keep it handy.”

Did she keep the note and memorize it and reread it a million times? Maybe.

But she also didn’t have a phone, as she lost it on the train. She was mainly hoping nothing bad would happen, cause she definitely did not have a device to call him on. At the same time, though, she really wanted to see him again.

And who could blame her?

Nyxx was kind and strong, and very, very attracted. And you don’t get saved by those kinds of people everyday.

“Uh, hello, Earth to Xeeeennn?” Sandy said, snapping her fingers in the other’s face.

Flinching, Xen flashed back to the present and turned to Sandy, who looked a bit put-off.

“Oh, sorry, what were you saying? Is the movie starting?”

“Uh, no, it just ended.” Sandy furrowed her eyebrows. “Jeez, you can be such an airhead sometimes. Were you sleeping with your eyes open or somethin’?”

Noticing everyone else is in the theatre leaving, Xen felt a little embarrassed. Could she really be that distracted by Nyxx?

“Ugh, whatever. Let’s just go, I already see the cleaners rollin’ in. Come on.” Sandy took Xen’s hand, leading her to the doors.

They threw away the trash and walked into the lobby. Sandy waved to one of her friends working at the counter, then stretched and yawned.

“That movie was pretty good, all things considered. Hey, wanna come over tonight? We could paint our nails and talk about our crushes!” Sandy said, posing dramatically.

Xen laughed, covering her mouth. “I’d love to, but I’ve got the opening shift tomorrow. Maybe next time.”

“Ughhhhh, why do you work so much? Try living a little, Xen. Maybe going to a few parties might loosen you up.” Sandy poked at her, smirking.

“I’m perfectly fine the way I am. Besides, the whole life of the party slash laidback misfit is way more your style.” Xen stated, nudging the taller girl.

Sandy chuckled, stuffing her hands into her pockets. “Yeah, guess you’re right. No one can compare to my utter brilliance.”

Xen just laughed, pushing past the front doors and into the parking lot.

Approaching Sandy’s beat up, Scooby-Doo-style van, the girl’s are stopped by a scream.

“Look at that! In the sky!”

“What the hell?”

“Run!”

“Holy shit!”

Both Xen and Sandy turned to the commotion, noticing a large green object heading straight toward them.

Launching many expletives out of her mouth, Sandy ran to the van, hopping in and starting the engine.

“Oh crap, we gotta go! Gotta go gotta go gotta— Xen? Xen?! What the hell are you doing?! Hurry up!” Sandy commanded, shouting from her place in the driver’s seat.

But Xen was frozen, staring up at, whatever it was. She couldn’t move. This wasn’t like the fear she got from the lizard-mutant, no, this was way different. Not even her fight or flight response was kicking in. She was utterly helpless, and there was a sick feeling that she wouldn’t be saved this time.

Xen probably wouldn’t have even had enough time to call Nyxx, let alone find some way to communicate with him.

Another shout from Sandy came from the van, but Xen didn’t hear it. A weird static was filling her head, like the buzzing when a TV stops working right. It was all she could do to keep staring, to keep calm, to accept it.

Before she can think, however, Xen is yanked away before the green thing hits the ground.

—

(All the way on the other side of the city)

Nyxx strolled alongside as Ada led him through a warehouse. He, unfortunately, had to listen to another one of his upperclassmen’s tirades.

“Oh, and don’t even get me started on your lack of discipline! You think because your so strong that you can just run around all half-cocked and then get sympathy when you fail! Like, obviously! Did you not see him prioritize getting soda over killing the damn Leech Ghouls?!” Ada complained, stomping down the poorly-lit hallway. “What’s even worse, literally nobody calls you out on it! Not even Red or Stein! And Stein is the nit-pick of the century!”

Nyxx just rolled his eyes, leaning his head back to look at the ceiling. The only reason they were in this place was because they got a report of the Imp Ghouls running around terrorizing the place. Pain and Panic, loyal servants to that damned Devil.

“Ya know, I think you’re over-thinking this. I’m pretty sure the reason nobody gets on my ass about stuff is cause I make the right calls. Ya told me to save people, Ada.” Nyxx said, pointedly looking at the woman.

“Ugh, I know what I said, but that doesn’t mean you can just abandon missions. That Scorpious mutant is still out there, probably running around in the sewers. And I’m the one that gets blamed for it, remember? Cause everyone thinks you’re my protege. Bullshit..”

Nyxx only shrugged, all he had to do was bring down Ghouls and bring their souls to be exorcised or judged. It wasn’t his place to decide their fate, all he had to do was capture them.

Sure, maybe he wasn’t doing too good a job of that recently, but people still understood why.

He just wished Ada could as well.

For all her hot-headedness, Ada was very smart and talented. She was one of the top students at EDEN, and her combat skills were incredible. She claimed she could do anything, and so far, she made good on that claim. Out of most people at the academy, Ada was definitely one of his favorites.

Except for her nagging. That was one quality he could live without.

“Ada! Ada, do you read me?” A voice from her watch questioned, urgently.

“Intel? Yes, what’s up?” Ada stopped, putting a hand on her hip.

“Listen, I need both you and Nyxx to go to downtown, quick. Something big just exploded in a theatre parking lot and we’re not entirely sure what it is. We need you to get a read on the situation, hurry.”

“Shit, okay, I got it. We’re on our way.” Ada closed the call and swiftly turned around. “Nyxx, let’s go.”

Nyxx only nodded, breaking out into a run to follow her.

—

When Xen came to, her ears were ringing. Everything around her was a dizzying haze. All she could see what a greenish smoke, and what looked to be rubble on the ground. Something warm drips down her face and before Xen can register it, she’s being dragged across the ground.

“Dammit, Xen! Wake up! We need to go!” A distant voice yells, one she slowly recognizes as Sandy.

“S-Sandy?” She coughed, pain wracking throughout her body.

What happened? The last thing she remembered was leaving the theatre.

“Oh my god, holy shit, are you okay?” Sandy stopped, kneeling down to hold Xen steady.

“I—” Another cough, this one feeling worse than the last. “I don’t know.”

Sandy was in utter distress at this point, looking around wildly, shouting for help. But Xen couldn’t concentrate, there was this buzzing under her skin. Her head felt like it was on fire and being beaten like a drum at the same time.

Suddenly, flashes of memories fly into her mind. They aren’t her memories, though, she’s awake enough to know that. There was a picture of a desert, then a stark-white room with medical supplies everywhere, and then fire. Green fire, all around, everywhere. It consumed everything it touched, including people who looked like doctors or scientists. A sharp pain enters her head, along with what sounded like high-pitched screaming.

“Gah!” Xen shrieked, squeezing her hands over her ears.

“What? What’s wrong?” Sandy panicked.

Xen couldn’t answer. The burning feeling was worse, it felt like it was through her entire body now. The screaming only became louder as her muscles seemed to ignite more and more. Almost to the point of an exploding sensation.

She doesn’t know when it happened, but quickly, her entire body became enveloped in flames. Green fire, just like the memories. Just like the thing in the sky.

Her screams were agonizing now, and they mixed well with the ones in her mind.

Xen knew Sandy was freaking out, but she couldn’t stop it. Her entire being was in complete pain overdrive.

She can’t tell when it stops, when the screams go silent and the fire goes out. What she can tell is, is a cold darkness covering her. Whispers of something she can’t quite grasp, until she’s completely enthralled in darkness.

—

On the outside, there was Nyxx and Ada. Nyxx was cocooning Xen inside of shadows, seemingly stopping the flames. Hopefully.

“Is she alright?” Ada asked, standing above the scene with a grimace.

“I don’t know, it looked really bad.” Nyxx replied, his tone uncertain.

He hadn’t expected to see Xen again, especially not under such horrible circumstances. It had only been a week since her last brush of death, and he was certain she was out of residual danger.

Nyxx would be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about her. His mind had wandered to the girl a few times, wondering if she was alright. He’d ordered one of the EDEN cadets to keep an eye on her, in case that mutant came looking for her before he could find it. The whole reason he even gave her his number was so he could help her out if need be, so why hadn’t she called?

Was he too late?

Had he failed to save someone again? Someone counting on him?

Nyxx hated that feeling, it scared him.

“Is she gonna be okay?” A girl asked, rubbing her nose as tears ran down her face.

She must be a friend of hers, Nyxx noted in his head.

“I’ll do everything I can to help her, I swear.” Nyxx assured.

He wanted to say everything would be alright, but he couldn’t say that. Empty promises were much worse than harsh truths. All he could do now was try his best to save Xen.

Nyxx didn’t get very far, though, because something exploded out of the crater in the middle of the parking lot.

Both he and Ada quickly turned, standing to attention at…whatever the hell was crawling out of that thing. They looked like a bunch oozy slime balls, but he could see their exoskeletons, which were clearly made of metal.

“Now what in the hell…” Ada faltered, gagging at the way they moved. “They look like worms, but worse!”

Nyxx glared at the scene. The weird neon-colored worms kept coming out of the iron rock thing that blasted into the concrete. And they were also, forming? Into each other. Honestly, Nyxx just wanted to wipe them from the Earth immediately.

Summoning shadows, he turned them into spikes and shot them like arrows at the slime worms. They just consumed them, though.

“Well, fuck.” He swore, running out of ideas.

“Great, now I can put, defeating a giant slime monster on my list of accomplishments to hold over your head.” Ada cackled, unlocking her bo-staff and running at the things with swiftness.

Her efforts are in futile though, every hit just slides through the worms. Nyxx, whose great at multitasking, tries to figure out both what it is and how it can die.

“Okay, seriously, can we please get out of here?!” The other girl pleaded, yanking her hair in frustration.

“I need to help Ada, but how. I can’t just leave Xen…” Nyxx mutters to himself.

Ada continues her struggle with the slime monster, occasionally throwing rocks and car pieces at it.

“God! Why isn’t anything working?!” She shouts, grinding her teeth.

Nyxx doesn’t get a chance to do anything though, because the slime monster finishes forming. A loud roar emanates from its mouth, and now it looks more like a four-legged snake with multiple heads.

“Fucking fantastic.” Nyxx rolls his eyes.

“Shit, what should we do?!” The girl asks, causing Nyxx to turn back to her.

“You shouldn’t do anything, just get out of here. I’ll take care of Xen.”

“What?! No! I’m not— wait, how’d you know her name was Xen…?” The girl asked, looking at him with suspicion. “Wait a second. Tall, white hair, white coat, and an attitude…holy shit! You’re him!”

Nyxx stares, puzzled. What……?

His confusion is short lived, as a loud blast comes from the other direction. Ada, having jumped out of the way, barely missed being crushed by a slimey hand. It retracted back into the mass of ooze, which totally wasn’t gonna haunt Nyxx’s dreams or anything, and slowly came toward them.

Ada sprints back to him, barely needing to catch her breath. “Okay, okay, Nyxx, call backup. I have no idea how to kill this thing and it doesn’t seem like a typical Ghoul.”

Screeching from the monster interrupted him, though, as his attention is drawn yet again to the monster. Knives stick out of its green slime skin, but they don’t fall away, and seem to be extracting some kind of poison into it.

But just from the make of the knives, Nyxx knew exactly who it was.

Turning around, he was greeted by the sight of Red. In full EDEN uniform attire, he stood on the top of car, holding a spectacularly sharp knife.

“Red?!” Ada exclaimed.

“Intel told me you two might need some help, so here I am.” He spoke, his voice flat and monotone as usual.

“Hey, Red.” Nyxx nodded at him. “I assume you’ve got a plan?”

“The makings of one, why?” Red questioned, walking toward the group.

“Cause I need to get her to Tsubaki and the other girls at the school so they can heal her.” Nyxx stated, looking from Red to Xen, who was still wrapped in shadows.

“Right. Well, hurry it up. Ada and I can handle things here.” Red dismisses, walking past and gesturing Ada to follow. “Do be quick about it though, I can almost smell all the blood she’s lost.”

Nyxx winced, but hurried to pick Xen up and find the quickest way out.

“We’re taking her to a hospital, right?” Xen’s friend implored.

“Something like that, but we need a ride.”

“Ah. I have a van.” She states, pointing to a an almost replica of that one van from the ghost cartoon.

“Great, let’s go.” He rushes over, using a shadow to tank the back doors open.

The other girl jumps into the front seat, starting the van and pulling speeding out quickly.

Nyxx looks down, unveiling some of his shadows to see the girl. She was trembling, and her face was scrunched up in discomfort. Vein-like lines trailed from her eyes to her neck, like an infection. Nyxx didn’t know much about human diseases, but green stuff on the face really shouldn’t be there.

His arms instinctually tighten around the girl, a feeling of both anger and worry settling over him.

“Don’t worry, Xen. You’ll be alright, I’ll make sure of it.”

—

ANOTHA ONE FOR MY GIRL @3xen ENJOY LOVELY

[cosmosoracle]

"The book is gone."

Zinnya gets straight to the point once we're all comfortable around our room. Hoyt has returned to his very gloomy attitude, absolutely infuriated at the situation, but keeping it all in. The half elf seems to have the most pragmatic and realistic approach to it all, swinging her legs as her eyes move between the goblin and me; in the meantime, I have taken a hold of the seashell I sleep in, the cosmic influence on me still way too strong to keep in check to just float.

I give a sad but knowing sigh in return. "I thought so... the Man in Red informed me about his friend being here to deal with you..." I'm surprised that none of the Generals had anything to say or suspect about us - especially Opak, who seems to have been there throughout the whole scene. My eyelids partially drop over my glowing gaze. "I was ready to give it up as well. I had no other choice; when I realized that the tattoo was gone, I just couldn't give up and leave you guys to face this alone. It is my fault if you got into this situation. I'm so sorry, and I promise I'll make it up to you for it."

"You have to make up for nothing, just don't do it again," Hoyt intervenes, direct and imperative as usual. It's one of the rare occasions in which Zinnya also agrees.

"Yeah, Lia, seriously. Don't get eaten, don't challenge huge crocodile men out of the blue, don't get stabbed in the heart! I knew that would have been the best reminder to carve on your locket, but it sounded weird back then. And now I regret it. Don't die again."

She pokes my chest with a finger, and I feel my cheeks warm up in borderline shame. I poke her hand back, then I free the locket from the folds of my scarf and open it again. It is heart shaped, but it's decorated so that it resembles one of the smooth seashells I so much love. It can be read on the inside: 'Don't lose your heart'. I won't tell it to her right now, but I honestly like it more this way instead. Especially after everything that happened with the brothers, with the small seed of painful doubt planted in, it's absolutely needed to have some support...

And speaking about support, only now I realize that I don't feel any presence behind my back watching over me. The Status spell that Echo placed on me after I found Arshea, few hours before Hoyt would return to Deadbridge and the group would be reunited after the break... got broken. We weren't on the same plane of existence anymore, my death cut our connection. I feel my chest clench, he must have certainly been aware of it when it happened... I need to contact him as soon as this is over, but silent tears escape me regardless. I close the locket in my hand and take a moment, then I return to look at my friends in the eye.

"I really don't plan to. Besides... when I died again, I returned in the same spot of the line that I left when it happened the first time. There were only four people in front of me, and once the Man in Red tricked me and left me alone, I had a direct exchange with Pharasma herself."

"Wait... wasn't the Man in Red the one who brought you back? Wasn't it our deal that saved you?"

Zinnya gets a confused look from me. "Um... no, he left me there to be judged. It was someone else who spoke to Pharasma, which I couldn't hear nor see..."

"That. Is. Fucked!"

The witch is absolutely outraged. Hoyt doesn't have an open reaction. I frown, then look elsewhere to pick up the memories again, trying to make sense of them.

"...I doubt it could be him or anyone else tied to a devilish pact. She said that it can be friendship, luck and love intervening with something like this, and that this isn't a gift granted to just anyone. She said that the next time that it happens she'll be right there waiting for me, so I suppose I won't have another chance at returning..." I take a small break and bring a hand to my face, closing my eyes. "I had the most absurd experience this time. I think I also had an exchange with the brothers before going to Pharasma... they also said I'm some kind of anomaly. I don't understand."

"What I understand is that we got involved in something so much bigger than us... fucking gods, having to mess with us mortals for their own deals."

It sounds so familiar it hurts. A flash of Igris' face appears in front of my eyes for a single moment... and just like when I spoke to him, I share the same answer, bitterly, as I see his figure turning away from me and fading. "If anything, this proves that we really are chosen... it's me and you now, Hoyt." And history seems to be repeating itself: the older brother faltered with his faith according to the story, while the young one was devoted to the cause of the gods... just like us.

"Well then, in that case you may want to find a good protection for us when we get the book back," Hoyt raises his chin and looks back at me with a harsh look. "We cannot rely on Rasmia's tattoo anymore. I would do the research myself, but I'm the least well versed in this, so I'll leave it up to you."

I nod; Zinnya tilts her head. "I'm pretty sure that was a kind of ward that she invented herself; now that we don't even have it anymore, it's going to be difficult to find anything about it... honestly, I should have studied it every day since I got it, damn it."

"It doesn't matter; I have a mean to hold researches in a way that goes beyond physical availability of books and texts that may come in handy right now."

"Oh, you mean our miniature library? That's where I keep my cauldron, but I'm pretty sure that if we wanted to use it more, we should have also worked to fill it in with tomes by ourselves..."

"Well, that too to an extent, but I'm actually speaking of a spell of mine." I explain briefly to her how the Pocket Library works: while searching for something, I can conjure a tome from anywhere in the world about the topic and try my luck. Between that and attempting to attune to the collective knowledge of the Divine, maybe I can get a good chance...

"...but, Hoyt... forgive the question, but is there a reason why you want the book back?"

"They came here to us and bullied us into giving them something that isn't theirs just because they had the upper hand. That is something I cannot let slide."

"But that book brought you so many problems," Zinnya also took part in the conversation. "Why is it so important that we keep it?"

Hoyt glares at her in return; it has become such a common occurrence that Zinnya doesn't seem to even notice it anymore. "It is a book with a soul in it, and now it's in the hands of a devil. Do you know what he wants to do with it?"

"No, do you?"

"No, that's why I'm worried and I want it back - that specific one."

"And I want it back too," I add myself back in the conversation. I give a complicit look at Hoyt. "And that book will be specifically recognized by my Zegarek on the back of its cover."

"In any case, at this point I don't think that we have to stay in Outsea for all of this anymore... I like it, but maybe it's going to be best to start heading to the lake Prophyrian and its Vault of Tears. The first week of this month has almost come to an end, and we should take around two weeks from here to reach it if we move fast - just in time for whatever is going to happen there." Our discussion shifts to our travel planning for a bit. Between the chance to make a fast detour to Torch before the New Moon in three days, so that Hoyt can get back his reforged sword Malorak that stabbed me by Notak's hand, going by ship and using my newfound Control Water ability, or having Zinnya conjure for us flying horses, some time passes by, until Hoyt concludes the conversation.

"Then it is decided: we're leaving. It's around midday now, but... you just died. Get some rest; we resurface tomorrow."

We nod in agreement, then we watch him exit our room to return to his. We hear silence for a little bit... then something breaks, and something else after that too. I and Zinnya glance at each other. She's rolling her eyes, talking to herself: "Boys." I hold the edge of the shell a little tighter instead. I will have to go talk go him too before we leave... but, first things first, I start looking for the Missive Stone in my backpack while resuming the conversation with the younger girl.

"You never got to learn the Resurrection ritual from Echo in the end, did you?"

"Oh, no I didn't. He promised to teach me a bunch of stuff, and then he never did. I'm mad at your boyfriend! When you contact him, scare him with the new you died. Make him feel bad, for my revenge."

I'm not in the mood for this kind of jokes. "I'm sure he already knows..." I'm not even protesting to her calling him my boyfriend. "But in any case, I hope I can fix it a tiny bit. I am no teacher like he is, but he taught me that ritual before we left, so now I'd be really glad if you could learn it too. If I fall, someone's got to take care of Hoyt..."

"Hey! I told you not to do it again! Did you even hear me?"

"Yes, yes, I did! This is just in case! I'll be there in a second..."

[lavendertales]

Lust for life—Matt Murdock x f!reader**

summary: after a victorious confrontation, Matt seeks to release his adrenaline in a surprising way.

word count: 2.5k

WARNINGS: established relationship, some soft dom!Matt, teasing, cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, body worship, praise kink, unprotected piv, lil choking & spanking.

AGELESS/EMPTY BLOGS & MINORS WILL BE BLOCKED!

A/N: did I write this based exactly on this outfit? yes. did I also get carried away while writing it? sure thing. I hope you enjoy!

gif: @buckypascal​ 

“You’ll get used to it”, Foggy had told you months ago.

At the time, you weren’t sure you would ever get used to Matt’s secret persona. It’s not that you couldn’t keep secrets, no; you were actually quite fantastic at that, which is why Matt, Foggy and Karen all agreed you’d be of great help at the agency, which had been growing rapidly over the past year.

No, it was the constant worrying over him that made you doubt his newly found trust in you.

You were always worried he’d come home half the man that left, or worse, that you’d find him dead somewhere.

It didn’t get any easier when you both came to realize that there were much stronger feelings at stake for the both of you.

Matt didn’t have it any easier, and truthfully, neither did Foggy, now having both your well-being on his mind. “I’m scared for this idiot, who’s fighting crime in his tights, and I’m scared that you will do something idiotic to save him. I lose either way!” Foggy had complained, half amused himself. But Matt, ever the avid learner of past mistakes, took notes of his concerns, as well as yours.

He was… well, more vigilant and careful than before. Perhaps more careful than he’d ever been. He knew the stakes were higher, having not just his friends at the back of his mind whenever he was out there, but also you. He’s made it a personal mission of his to remember your grimaces when you’d sometimes patch him up, your tenderness and your cold, trembling fingers. One night he heard you silently sob in the bathroom, thinking he was asleep, and ever since then, Matt’s been sleeping with one eye open, making sure that he wouldn’t get seriously injured—however possible, of course. His health was your happiness, and your happiness now came first.

Surprisingly or not, tonight he had a good night. Tonight he fought and won. He fought against a merciless criminal, gotten the information he needed out of him, and walked away victorious. He felt ecstatic like he hadn’t in a long time. Even as he stood atop the building, listening to Hell’s Kitchen’s silence, Matt smiled. It was a good night to be alive.

All he could think about was celebrating with you.

He finds you in his apartment, cleaning by the sound of it. A soft chuckle escapes past his lips as he inches closer to the middle of the living room. The silence makes it the perfect environment for him to hear his own heartbeat pounding in his ears with excitement. It’s an astounding contrast with the way your heart is beating—normal, unsuspecting, still not alert.

Then, a soft gasp. That’s how he knows he has your undivided attention.

“I take it you’re done for the night?” you ask lightheartedly.

“Well, the night’s still young.”

You frown, inspecting his body up close. Usually you check for injuries of any kind, blood or cuts—and now makes no exception—but you cannot help the gulp that’s formed around the stone in your throat the more you examine him. That all black outfit, perfectly fit on Matt’s body, has always been a conflict of interest for you, mostly because whenever he wore it, he was in no condition to be taken care of in that way. He was either badly bruised or half alive, so the outfit represented some sort of dark omen to you.

Except tonight, it seems Matt still stands in one piece, unaffected and – hell. He’s smiling.

“Aren’t you weirdly chirpy?” you gather the courage to approach him.

“It’s a great night to be alive, sweetheart.”

His voice drips with boldness and sweetness simultaneously, both which instill a fiery sensation in your stomach, eventually settling in your lower belly and threatening to spill in between your legs.

“You seem to be in one piece, which is cause for celebration,” you joke.

“It is.”

Matt’s hands roam around your waist, nervous by no means, but rather eager to explore and set afire. You stifle a gasp as they reach your back, pulling you into his arms and pressing your lips against yours in one feisty move. You’re more than glad to welcome his devilish tongue in your cavities, letting it explore however he wanted it to. You have the feeling that tonight Matt needs to exert his power and abilities, and you’re not gonna be the one standing in his way.

The kiss turns nearly feral within seconds; Matt’s lips travel down you jawline to your neck, stopping to suck on a particular spot that nearly has you screaming already. He bites gently there, your hands entangled in his hair all the while. You hear him chuckle, clearly enjoying himself much more than you would’ve thought he would, especially after a night out fighting crime.

“You really are in a good mood,” you giggle and gasp at the same time.

“You don’t know the half of it.”

“Then show me.”

Before you see his grin, you hear it. “Who’s the impatient one now?”

“Don’t you dare tease me now, Murdock.”

“Then take off your clothes and stop talking.”

Somewhat surprised, you do exactly as he tells you. You take down cloth by cloth till the chilly air hits your exposed skin. Matt doesn’t move yet. If you wouldn’t have known him, you might’ve said that he was staring at you, trying to decide where to start.

But Matt is confident and secure in his moves, particularly intimacy related. He knows exactly how and what and for how long.

Plush, smooth lips are on you again, this time peppering a trail of wet kisses from your breasts to your sternum, traveling down to your stomach and—

“Matt—“

Your fingers trail back to his hair, tugging carefully as Matt falls to his knees before you, hands molding the soft flesh of your ass and lips stopping just where you needed him the most.

“You’re a piece of work, you know that?”

A slap grazes your ass cheek and you gasp, taken aback. “Keep it up and there’ll be more where that came from.”

“Doesn’t sound very threatening if you ask me.”

He repeats the motion, this time harder, and you gasp, a sound of pure arousal that has Matt utterly wrecked.

You bite your lip as he gives you a soft nudge to clash on the couch and spreads your legs, his mouth brushing over your inner thighs, kissing and biting ever so carefully, barely there but enough to send you over the edge.

“Mattie, I—oh—“

“Good thing I found you here,” he says as his thumb delicately rubs your clit. “I was starving on the way home.”

You smile through the ecstasy from the simplest of touches, his words forming a devilish alliance with it in order to bring you to the highest peak of passion you’ve ever known.

Another finger joins the pressure applied on your clit, this one moving up and down your folds, testing to see how far Matt could push you before you break.

“Oh—ohhh—“

“I need to hear more from you, sweetheart. Use words.”

“Fuck—please—“

“So sensitive and needy.”

He’s playing with you, playing a game you know he’s damn good at and one that you love to lose when it’s on his terms. He makes losing so pleasurable, you could never get mad at that. But right now, you want more friction, you want more of him, however he’s willing to give himself to you.

You try to move your hips to meet with more of his hand at least, if nothing else, but Matt retracts his fingers.

“Tell me what you want first,” he teases.

“You.”

“Be a little more specific, perhaps?”

Jesus fucking—

“Eat me out. Please,” you add for good measure.

You remark his grin, followed by a raise of his eyebrows. “That’s my good girl.”

You scoff, sound followed by a throated moan when Matt dips his tongue in between your folds, his index accompanying it. The motions are relaxed and concise and they succeed in making you tremble. He teases with his finger, pumping in and out a while and pulling out abruptly, replacing it with his tongue, as deep as possible straight into your cunt.

You swear you black out for a second.

It’s intense and greedy and it’s just the way you like it. Both your hands are tugging at his hair, almost pulling him completely in between your legs. You might’ve been worried otherwise, but Matt has survived far worse. And this is nothing but sheer pleasure. Ardent, strong, burning you alive kind of pleasure.

You’re not sure when your body works on its own and starts to lift your hips so you can rub yourself on his mouth, but it does and you’re partially grateful and partially desperate.

“Mattie, shit—shit, shit—please, more—“

Desperate for more of him, desperate to feel him completely undone for you, and having no shame in concealing it.

Matt laps at your folds diligently, drinking from you like the juiciest nectar ever created and you know he won’t stop till you’re utterly spent. You feel the buildup in your belly, the much needed volcano-like eruption threatening to erupt in any second as you keep saying his name like a forbidden prayer on your lips, staining them in the most vexing way possible.

You shout his name when you cum, legs trembling with the force of your climax, but Matt doesn’t stop. He remains buried in your cunt, savoring every drop of arousal you have to give to him, and he keeps going until your lungs are running low on air.

Needless to say, you’re quite shook when Matt takes the fingers he used on you to suck them dry like he just ate the most gourmet dinner possible.

Perhaps he did.

“Tasty,” he says, rather to himself.

You huff just as he proceeds to lick his lips and you pull him in for another fiery kiss, tasting yourself on his lips. You shudder, chest heaving as Matt’s fingers return to rub your swollen clit.

“Mattie, come on… stop teasing me—“

His hands move to cup your breasts, his large hands covering them completely and the kiss deepens even further. He chooses to push your buttons a little more, drive you a little more over the edge of sanity, curious as to how far you’d let him go before you snap and decide to skip rope with those limitations.

The more Matt grinds into you, thus betraying his own impatience, the needier you grow. Your hands fumble at the waistband of his pants, struggling to remove the pesky material out of the way, and Matt finds your hands, doing the work for you. He temporarily leaves you to undress himself with surprising speed and precision.

Whatever happened out there tonight, you’re nothing but grateful if it led to Matt still unscathed and so keen to satisfy.

The couch’s leather sticks to your sweaty skin as you sink into it, having Matt atop of you, mouth wandering over every portion of skin he can find. Finally free of the fabric’s confinements, you guide him to your entrance, both of you releasing broken gasps at that first contact. It feels surreal, an absolute feverish dream how good it feels to barely have the tip of him breaching your sensitive cunt, let alone the rush that comes the moment he’s fully sheathed inside of you.

“A great night to—be alive, huh?” you smirk, breathless already and he didn’t even start moving yet.

Matt chuckles. “Oh yes.”

He pushes in, slowly as if it’s the first time, awaiting your response. You moan, hands immediately to his shoulders for support and fingernails barely digging at the surface of the skin. Then he pulls out in one languid motion and pushes back in, the sheer movement through your walls pure ecstasy. You know he can feel how you’re burning up for him, how you’re all soaked because and for him, and that makes you smile.

God, she’s so soft and malleable, Matt thinks as he starts to thrust properly. He doubts he’ll ever get over how you feel, how you taste and smell. You moan brokenly as he pounds into you, a pace that’s fast enough to be considered a proper fucking but also tender enough, in true Matt Murdock fashion. He buries himself inside you to the hilt, reaching as far as he can in his attempt to feel every single inch of you.

Your fingernails dig deeper into his shoulders, moving to his back where they nearly claw the skin there, but it only spurs him further on, causing Matt to pick up the pace. He’s pounding into you harder than before and, in all the haste, picks up your heartbeat, finally as frantic as his, matching it by default.

Matt feels like a mad man, smiling in blind ecstasy as his fingers snake up your torso, breasts and curl around your throat.

“That’s a good girl—“he mutters, already feeling the tingle at the base of his spine, working to build that familiar burn in his nether region. “You’re doing so damn good—“

“That’s because—of you—“

“Yeah? You like being fucked like this?”

You moan relentlessly, the light pressure he’s applying to your throat contributing to the buildup in your body. Just a little while longer, a little more and you’ll be there—

“Taking me so well—“Matt goes on, clearly working towards both your completion. “Touch yourself.”

On command, your fingers reach to play with your clit, adding even more pressure to the whole ordeal. You start to feel that burn, aching to just let go, and you rub yourself frantically in a completely manic act.

Matt’s body stiffens as his climax hits him like a tidal wave, shooting his load right into you and triggering the same response out of you. Your walls clench and flutter around his cock, milking him of every drop of arousal, your wrecked moans in tandem with one another. You jerk under him, the fingers around your throat locked in the same spot, unable to let go, and all you feel now is the warm sensation of his cum painting your insides like the messiest canvas.

Spent, Matt stills above you, breaths ragged. Only then he retracts his hand, which goes to your side to caress the soft skin there. He presses his forehead to yours, lips finding your nose to peck, then your cheeks and lips.

“I sure hope you have more good nights like this one,” you smile.

Matt chuckles again, at last pulling out of you. “This should be motivation enough.”

tags:

@doin-stuff​ @kingsqueensandvagabonds​ @nicolemval​ @1800-fight-me​ @halerune​ @c4psicle​ 

[shurisneakers]

harmless (xiii)

Summary: Bucky volunteers to go stop a small time villain, but nothing can prepare him for what exactly he has to deal with. (Bucky x villain!reader)

Warnings: cursing, frustrated bucky, dramatic reader, smidge of angst, guns, little bit of violence, obnoxious flirting, and kidnapping lol

Word count: 6.2k

A/N: welcome to chaos week >:) this is the first of three updates coming out this week (if i can finish the last one in time).  big thank you to my love @no-shit-sherl0ck for the kidnaped!reader idea, and that one anon who suggested the inator that’s used here. i know you wanted to see it in a zoo but i couldn’t really figure out a way to use that so i referenced it a bunch in previous chapters. oh and also @ginevranights​ for this specific imagery 

Previous Part  || Series Masterlist

Who the fuck kidnaps a villain in this day and age?

Saturday started normally enough.

Nat kicked Bucky’s ass in training, evening the score to 120 and 120. He blames it on the lack of sleep. She tells him that it’s his fault he stayed up late to binge watch 911 Lone Star.

He still thinks it was worth it.

The team’s sunshines and rainbows that morning. Someone had cooked up a batch of pancakes and fresh orange juice. Someone else burnt the bacon but left to feed his dog before anyone could complain.

Nat opened up the newspaper. Different sections went to different people until Bucky got stuck with the entertainment section. Fun, considering that he doesn’t even recognise half the names. He’d have to pretend to be interested until the next rotation.

He watches the orange juice levitate in front of him from the corner of his eye and just assumes that Wanda’s getting a refill even though she could have just asked him to pass it. He smells the next batch of bacon burning and figures that Clint is back.

Sam’s beside him, annoying him about how long it takes for him to read about which new celebrity relationship just ended and Bucky retaliates by reading even slower. Fuck you.

He’s on his second stack of pancakes absolutely drenched in maple syrup when the doors to the elevator open and Marie steps out, laptop in her hand.

An instant chorus of hello’s and invitations to have some charred bacon resound through the table. She politely declines them with a small smile, instead opening her laptop and placing it in front of Bucky without further ado. 

He looks at her questioningly, slowly swallowing whatever was in his mouth.

“An email for you.” She tuts her head towards it. “It has a video attachment of your friend.”

Bucky has plans to not watch the video in front of everyone, given that the content could range anywhere from you reading out fanfiction about him to a deep-fake of him singing a Whitney Houston song.

Both of which you have done before and would do again, without any hesitation.

“Aren’t you gonna watch it?” Wanda asks from across the table.

He slowly shakes his head no, cutting his stack into smaller pieces.

“If what’s in it is real, it’s important,” Marie stresses.

“What’s in it?” he inquires instead, hoping that the team would stop staring at him. If Marie was implying strongly that he needed to watch then something was wrong.

“Just watch it, man.” Sam’s statement has everyone agreeing with him. Bucky can’t refuse now, and if the team makes fun of him for the next month about how he looks good belting Greatest Love of All, he’s going to personally assassinate you.

He clicks on the email, noticing it came from a throwaway address. Probably untraceable, if the cards are played right. 

The video opens to grainy footage, which is stupid considering modern technological advancements. If this is one more of your stupid LARPing sessions, it could definitely wait till after lunch. 

But, he instantly recognises your silhouette strapped to a chair and suddenly the room feels very cold around him. His hand automatically clutches onto a bead from the bracelet you gave him that still remained tied to his left arm more often than not.

“Speak,” someone commands off camera.

“About what?” You sound annoyed, exasperated even.

“Why you’re here.”

“I’m here because you have unaddressed feelings of childhood insecurity.”

“I warned you to take this seriously.”

Bucky’s eyes widen slightly but his body relaxes the minute he reads the situation. 

The team’s crowded around him, he can feel it. His attention remains on the screen in front of him.

“Who even are you sending this to?” You don’t sound the least bit threatened. “My roommate’s not at home but my cat is and I don’t think she’d care.”

”You’ve made a complete joke out of villains everywhere. Fraternising with the enemies, the Avengers,” he spits the name with so much vitriol. “You’ve erased what it’s like to be truly evil. Turned us into a laughing stock.”

“If it takes one person to undermine your whole movement then maybe it wasn’t strong enough to begin with.” You look at someone outside the lens, face scrunching in distaste. “Also your costume’s ugly.”

“F.R.I.D.A.Y., can you trace this voice?” Bucky asks, receiving an immediate confirmation. “Figure out who it is.”

“On it.”

“Tell them. Tell them we are a serious threat and are to be feared.”

"No,” you say resolutely. “You’re an overgrown manchild. Go watch Teletubbies or something.”

“She does not give a shit,” Clint marvels at the situation, a piece of half eaten burnt toast between his fingers.

You didn’t. And if he knew you in the slightest, which he prided himself on at this point, you already had six different ways of getting out of there.

“She knows she’s going to be fine,” Bucky murmurs, returning back to take a bite of his pancakes. “She’s probably still there just to irritate him.”

He zeroes in on your wrist to see if the teleportation watch was still there but no, your wrists are bare. Guess you forgot.

“You have to.”

“Why?”

“Because that’s how a real villain does it.”

“A real villain- what are you, gatekeeping the villain community?” You scoff. “You sound like a fuckin’ incel.”

“Just send them a message,” the guy bellows, hitting a table.

“She’s going to frustrate them to death.” An accurate observation, Sam.

“Okay, jeez, fine.”

Bucky just knows that you rolled your eyes at that moment.

He had faith in you, or in your abilities at the very least. While every wisecrack could possibly inch you closer towards harm, you probably wouldn’t be making them unless you felt completely secure in your situation.

“Help, I’m totally kidnapped and in danger. Save me because I can’t do it myself. This man is too powerful and strong and sooo scary.”

“Do you think she has a strategy?”

“Definitely.”

“You’re not worried, James?” Wanda asks curiously. “I thought she was your friend.”

“She is my friend.” He reaches over to take the jug of orange from across the table. “That’s why I’m not worried.”

“Are you going to fight the Avengers?” you interrupt his endless tirade. “Because that’s a stupid plan. You get how that’s a stupid plan, right?”

“Let them come. I’m prepared.”

“With what? A stick you found outside? A Nerf gun? Man, you’ve tied my hands with fuckin’ zip ties, you can’t be serious-”

“Shut up,” he roared and the stand shakes slightly from where he stamps his feet. “Our army is enough.”

“Wow,” you exhale. “I wish I had your confidence, I really do. I want to study you under a microscope.”

“I have reinforcements.” It sounds like he turns to the camera to address it directly. “This is a warning. Your friends have an hour to find you or things are gonna turn ugly. This is what real evil looks like.”

“Evil dresses in a dollar store Speedo, apparently.” The man pays you no heed, instead picking up the camera. “Hey, sarge, if you’re watching this, don’t bother. I’m fine, it’s not even the real me-”

The camera cuts to black.

“When was this video sent?” Nat looks at Marie, eyebrows drawn together.

“About ten minutes ago.”

Bucky clicks out of the email, determined to get at least half his breakfast in him before he left to see what’s up with your situation. A notification pops up immediately.

evilkneival123@gmail.com just sent you an email.

A video attachment.

“We got another one,” Bucky informs the team, drawing their attention back to the screen from the informal conversation that had erupted between them about what they could do.

This time, there’s a subject line included.

Attack on the Clone.

"Ain’t that a Star Wars movie?" he asks, craning his neck to look at Clint.

"That's Attack of the Clones," Sam corrects. "Probably autocorrect."

Bucky narrowed his eyes in suspicion at him, jaw sliding outward before falling back into place. Enough times had Sam called him Fucky in the group chat and gotten away with it for him not to be wary.

“Or a code,” Wanda suggests, too many crime thrillers read and podcasts listened in her spare time. She occasionally brought them over to Self Care Saturday, introducing him to the world of true crime as a bit of light content while they snacked on chocolate chip cookies he baked. “Like the Zodiac.”

“For what?” Bucky peers over at her.

“All I remember from that movie is them rolling around a field together,” Clint mutters. “Maybe that’s how you’re supposed to save her.”

“I’m not saving anyone. Look at her, she’s fine.” Is he the only one who saw it?

When he’s met with skeptical looks and no other useful suggestions, he presses play on the video.

This time it's clearer footage. It hardly takes him a second to ascertain where it was.

"That's her lair." It showed the pathway leading up to the flat concrete building, exactly where the intercom should be.

There was a black Sedan parked haphazardly outside, engine still on judging by the sound of the radio blasting an AC/DC song. 

Within a few seconds, someone drags you from the entrance of the lair to the car, despite your very clear protests and opposition, shoving you inside before it takes off in full speed, tires screeching. 

"F.R.I.D.A.Y., track the car from that video. Check all the CCTV and surveillance footage from around the area that you can find," Bucky commands, taking a sip of orange juice.  

"Why would they send us that?" Clint pipes up. "They make their email untraceable but send us a video of the fuckin' abduction itself?"

"I don't know." Bucky shakes his head, setting his glass down. "She probably convinced them to."

It was an unusual scenario, he realised that. But his eyebrows lower in contemplation, his lip caged between his lip before a thought suddenly occurs to him. A laugh in disbelief almost escapes his throat ad he pushes it down with some freshly cut strawberries. 

"And they listened?"

"I don't think you realise how annoying she can be." He knows, though. He knows. "Bet they regret it, though. I should tell them to keep her for a little longer."

"Voice recognition registers voice to someone named Chad, better known by his alias Soul Crusher. Surveillance footage places the car about thirty minutes away. Exact location sent to your phone GPS."

Soul Crusher. That was worse than Dr. Strange.

"I can make that fifteen." Bucky shrugs, setting down his fork and knife. If his hunch is right, the team didn’t really have to get involved. “See you guys later.”

“Do you want any of us coming with you?” Wanda gestures to the crowd at hand.

“I got it.” He pushes away from the table, depositing his plate in the sink, dropping an extra piece of bacon on the ground for Clint’s dog. “She’ll be alright.”

They watch him trail out of the room briskly, heading up to his room to change.

“Is it just me or is he too casual about this?” Clint continues staring long after he leaves.

“Both of them are weirdos.” Nat pulls open the newspaper again, going back to the sport’s section. “Who knows what goes in their heads.”

“Can confirm that not a lot goes on in his.”

Without Bucky to retaliate or grumble, a Steve walking into the room, sweaty and shiny after training becomes the new subject of jokes that morning.

__

For the first time in months, he’s had to bring a weapon or two along with him. Two revolvers and a couple of knives kept out of plain view. He wouldn’t need more than that anyway.

True to his word, it takes only fifteen minutes to get there, thirteen if he didn’t stop for the chain of ducks that crossed the street.

He’s also dressed in a little more leather than he usually reserves for your meetings. A jacket that brings to act as a windbreaker and tightly laced up combat boots make him look like he either stepped off a runway, or more menacing than usual depending on who was looking.

The GPS points him to an old warehouse near a more subdued part of the city. It was abandoned by the looks of it, and had been for a while judging by the lack of upkeep. Prime real estate.

He pulls off his helmet, hanging it on the handlebar along with his backpack before kicking the stand into place. The bike’s a few metres away just in case they decide to blow something up.

Bucky looks up at the warehouse, assessing the most damage he could do to it if at all it was needed. That thing could barely stand on its own, a grenade would absolutely decimate it. That wasn’t good news for you.

He sighs once before putting on his death glare, straightening out his shoulders into a stature that screams stone-cold, and pushes the door open, gun raised.

A mini-army of people ranging from their early twenties to late thirties stood guard at the entrance, all with rifles pointed at him. He counts fifteen, maybe eighteen.

“Oh, hell no,” a voice erupts from the back, followed by the sound of his gun being thrown to the ground. “No one told me that he was coming.”

Bucky raises an eyebrow, his death glare not shifting and Glock not lowering.

“I’m out.” The same guy raises his hands up to show he meant no harm, slowly brushing past Bucky as he squeezed out of the building.

“You got five seconds to leave before I shut this door,” Bucky gives the rest of them an ultimatum. Not like there was a point anyway. SHIELD was sending down some people to account for the one day rise in new morons. 

They all looked at each other, swallowing thickly before raising their weapons.

“I hope he’s giving you good insurance.” The second he finishes his sentence they all cry out in what sounds like a fucking war chant, launching themselves at him. 

______

“They’re here.” Someone presses his ear to the door as if the gunshots and screaming weren’t enough. 

“Brilliant. We’re ready.” Chad picks up the knife, running his finger along the sharp end. You try to see if you can use your Twitter-ordained powers of manifestation for a paper cut.

“How much are you asking them for?” You put forth a query instead, when it disappointingly doesn’t work.

“Asking who for what?” Chad stops his dumb intimidation tactic for a second. 

“You know,” you insist like it was obvious, “my ransom. How much did you ask them to pay?”

“We didn’t-” He looks around at the other people in the room for confirmation. “-we didn’t ask for any.”

“Because I’m invaluable?” Your head droops to the side in mock flattery. “Aw, you guys.”

“We didn’t think of it,” someone from the corner behind you speaks up, coming to the aid of their boss.

“Now that’s just rude.” You tut, shifting maybe an inch or two in your bounds to try and get more comfortable. “Leaving aside your lack of preparation, let’s just assume he bursts in here, desperate and ready to bargain. How much would you ask for?”

“Three million,” Chad says confidently, gathering a nod and sounds of agreement from everyone else.

“Are you serious?” Your jaw drops, a scoff escaping you. “That’s all?”

His self-assurance falters a little bit, you can see it under his 5 Minutes Craft mask.

“Three mill-” You stop mid-sentence. “With this wiring? Ridiculous. Make it ten, I demand it.”

“We’ll ask for fifteen mil,” Chad proposes, his teammates agreeing again, a little more delighted than last time.

“Ask for thirty, you coward,” you argued. “Thirty million and a jet.”

“You’re not worth that much.” The dipshit diagonal to you pipes up with his unwanted and, frankly, useless opinion.

“And you are?” You whip around the best you can. “Henchman number four?”

“Megedagik,” he informs, standing up a little taller now that he was given some importance. “It means ‘killer of many’.”

“Did you just say your name was Mega Dick?” 

“Megedagik,” he corrects.

You stare at him hard before turning away. “Alright, other than Mega Dick here, does anyo-”

A knife lands right next to your feet, driven at least an inch into the ground. You look up at the guy you managed to piss off within four sentences, his face now a beet red. 

“These are brand new, asshole,” you barked, shaking your shoes around. “You’re gonna pay if there’s even a scratch on it.”

“Permission to kill her?” Meg growls, casting a side eye at Chad.

The boss man looks at you thoughtfully, assessing the repercussions of what might happen. You raise an eyebrow.

“Slow and painful,” he settles. 

A small smirk makes its way onto your face. 

“Title of your sex tape,” you quip as the man in the corner storms towards you.

_____

It’s all a flurry, really. A bunch of inexperienced newcomers versus one of the most skilled assassins the world had ever seen? Ten minutes tops.

Bucky doesn’t do any serious damage. A couple of broken bones but only out of necessity, a lot of concussions, and maybe a bullet wound, or three, here and there. 

Most of the time he spends thinking about things that have absolutely nothing to do with what was going on. He forgot to take his laundry out of the machine. There was a biscotti recipe he had been procrastinating on trying. His succulents needed watering but he could do that once he was back. Was he wearing his good combat pants or was it the pair that had a hole in the pocket?

His left hand thrust outwards to shove someone away while he stuck his right hand into his pocket to check if it had frayed away. The person he pushed slams into a wall with a loud groan and no, his pants didn’t have a hole in them. 

He stops to take a breather, assess what was going on. There are bodies scattered all around, mostly writhing in pain from minor injuries. Someone very bravely stands up, hands posed in front of him in a regular fighting stance.

“You sure about this?” Bucky asks, reaching for one of the concealed knives he hadn’t had a chance of using yet. It twirls rather nimbly between his fingers for something so dangerous, the hilt finally landing in his palm for a sturdy grip.

The man takes one look at the knife before sitting right back down on the ground. 

“Good choice,” his voice drops to an octave lower than his self-esteem. He’s tired of this old routine but it works like a neat little party trick, often getting him the result he wanted. “Where?”

A few fingers point down the hall to the only room whose door was closed.

He makes sure to step over everyone who was lying along the way, ears tuned in to even the smallest of noises just in case one of them decided to attack him from the back. It doesn’t come.

He doesn’t bother creeping down the hallway. With all the ruckus that just went on outside, he’s pretty sure it’s obvious that they had an intruder. 

Bucky kicks in the large steel door with ease, given that it was barely hanging on its hinges. His gun’s raised, muscles tight, and senses on high alert for any immediate threats. 

It lands with a large thud, reverberating through the room. He’s reminded of your first meeting with him.

There’s a chair in the middle of the room with a person tied to it by a mixture of rope and tape. Others found themselves slithering around on the floor in a similar fashion, trying to get out of their bondages.

“Hey, James,” you call out, drawing his attention to you. You were sitting atop a table, legs swinging back and forth without a care in the world, a blade in your hand. 

“You okay?” He tucks the gun into his waistband when he realises that none of the henchmen are going to be going anywhere soon.

“All good.” You hop off the table with a little spring in your step. “Did you bring your bike? I need a ride back to the lair. I think I left the TV on when I was, you know, getting kidnapped.”

“You coulda teleported back home before all of this even happened.” Bucky does a quick assessment of your body to make sure there weren’t any bruises or anything of the sort. “Avoided the whole thing.”

“Don’t have the watch with me.” Odd, since he knows you consider it one of your essentials but it just fuels his theory further. “Besides, if I just quit before we started, they’d keep messing with me over and over again.”

“Do you want me to punch someone’s face in?” He glances around the room at the ones wiggling about on the floor like fucking worms. “I’d be happy to.”

“Nah, I got a few in myself.” You rotate your wrist, other hand still holding onto the knife. “You know what, maybe I’ll have another go.”

He simply makes a noise in acknowledgement before he places a hand on the hem of your shirt, gently reeling you back. “I think you fixed ‘em up real good. That’s enough for today.”

“Fine but only ‘cause you said so.” You huff, looking past him and at the weirdos on the ground. “You hear that? This man just saved your life. Say ‘thank you’.”

A muffled chorus of what sounded like appreciation echoed through the room. Bucky awkwardly looks around.

“Damn right.” You walk over to the guy in charge of the whole event, bending down to his level. “If you ever try to fuck with us again...”

You stare straight into his eyes, unblinking. You hold up the knife to his Adam’s apple. Chad doesn’t dare to move other than the thick swallow.

You raise your finger and flick him in the forehead. “Get a better costume.”

The corner of Bucky’s lip quirks upward.

“Let’s go, sarge,” you announce, standing upright again and making a motion to follow you. “D’you have an extra helmet I could use?”

“Yeah.” He had brought one along in his bag, assuming that you’d need one once he noticed the watch was missing in the footage.  

“Yay.”

The only storage space on his bike was under his seat and it’s just enough for an extra revolver. Clint asked him if it was his way of flirting with someone, give ‘em a quick spin around the city and then show them his gun. If looks could kill, Clint would be 7 feet under. 

“You sure you wanna ride it, though?” He cringes immediately when he realises what it sounds like, waiting for you to smack the innuendo in his face. “We could wait for SHIELD.”

“Don’t really have another choice, Bucky,” you say absentmindedly, strolling out the room as you tossed the knife behind you.

He frowns at your indifference but turns around for a second to look at Chad. The man in question looks back viciously, his grandeur from that morning basically deflated and left to die along with his reputation.

“Might wanna reconsider the name,” Bucky remarks, doing a quick sweep of the area once more. “Soul Crusher.”

He waits until both of you are outside the cell and the door is shut on the ringleader and his circus clowns, handlebar twisted out of place so that they don’t escape for the time being.

“One second,” he calls, touch gently lingering on your forearm to stop you without even thinking twice about it. A famously uncharacteristic move for him.

"Hm?” You don’t even look like you notice his action.

“You sure you’re good?” he asks seriously, actual concern slipping through the question. “Do you need medical assistance?”

“They couldn’t hurt me anyway.” There’s something strange about the way you say it, almost assuredly. “I’m good.”

“Okay,” he concedes, his hand darting back when he realises it was still on your arm. His eyebrows furrow when he realises how instinctively he had reached out in the first place.  He didn’t touch anyone, ever.

“What are we gonna do about them?” you inquire, stepping over someone on the floor to get to the exit.

“Marie told Agent Hill. They’re sending someone over.”

“They’re sending SHIELD for these wannabes?” Someone groans in protest from somewhere and you elect to ignore them. “Ew.”

“Just to make sure confidential information isn’t compromised in any way.” There’s a large bang that comes from the room they just left. Maybe one of them shot their teammate by accident. They were more than capable of doing it.

“I would never,” you exacted a little more solemnly, pushing the door open with your elbow to let the sunlight flood in.

“I know.” He doesn’t realise how dark it was in the warehouse until he steps out into the noon sun. “I’m pretty sure this is more about the fact that you were abducted.”

“For me?” The smile doesn’t quite reach your eyes the way he kinda likes. Something definitely felt off. “I love being class favourite.”

He doesn’t reply, a small grunt as he twists the handle of the warehouse door upwards, effectively jamming it. 

“Can I drive?” You bat your eyelashes at him innocently, disregarding the loud screaming that came from inside as those less injured probably regrouped for a last ditch attempt. 

“No,” he doesn’t hesitate in replying, handing you a helmet and buckling his own securely.

“But I just got kidnapped,” you complained, watching him swing a leg over the bike and straddle it. Okay then. 

“All the more reason for you not to drive right now.” He mentions for you to get on, squinting at the warehouse a few feet away.

“Fine, but next time I’m driving,” you grumble, climbing on the back.

“Do you even know how to?” His head is tilted to look at you from the corner of his eye, voice heavier on account of the obstruction on his face.

The door starts shaking violently and he knows for a fact that it won’t hold up for much longer. Some of those who he had knocked out probably had been shaken awake again for manpower. 

“I can learn.” You take a pause, mischief seeping into your next words. “You can teach me.”

“No.” He didn’t exactly practice what was considered safe, law abiding driving. He just got from one point to another and that’s all he cared about.

“Then I’ll do it myself.” You sound determined. “I’m going to leave a note for us in the lair.”

“You do that.” He revs the engine when something solid hits the metal door. As guessed, their usage of props to push it down faster was coming into play. “Now, can you hold on to something? We need to go.”

If only those idiots just realised that the windows covered by newspapers were right there, ready to be broken.

“Only if you promise to let me drive next time,” you say defiantly, drawing this whole ordeal out.

“Whatever,” he urges. “I promise. Now can we go?”

“Wait for it...” There’s a devilish smile on your face. “One.”

There’s a loud creak as the door finally gives way.

“Two.” The same people you left tied up in the room burst out, almost stumbling over each other in the process.

“Three,” he completes it on his own, not waiting for you to finish because God knows how long you’d stretch it out just for the drama.

Your excited screech of laughter as he narrowly misses a rod that gets thrown at him like a fucking javelin temporarily distracts him from the brain freeze he gets when your arms wind around his waist to hold yourself in place. 

There’s angry screaming and bullets that whiz past in an attempt to get him to stop but a swift turn around a corner, pulling the both of you out of their sight is enough to get rid of them. 

“We should get a few weapons and go back,” you yell over the wind rushing by, barely audible.

“You do that in your own free time,” he shouts in response, yanking you through narrower lanes and less popular streets.

“Maybe I will, you bore.” 

Still, you shut up for the rest of the ride, only grumbling when he stops the bike to tell you that no, you cannot let go just because you want to throw your hands in the air like in the movies.

You hop off when he finally pulls up on the street outside your lair, adrenaline still pumping through your veins. He waits patiently as you unbuckle the helmet, switching off the engine. 

“You gonna drop me off at my door too, now?” You snicker, fingers pulling off the helmet.

He looks at you for a second before dropping the kickstand into place and dismounting from the motorcycle.

“I was kidding.” You laugh, handing him your headgear that he shoves into his backpack. 

“You’re pretty capable of gettin’ abducted along the way.” An absurd notion, considering it’s a short path from the road to the door. 

“Oh, how chivalrous.” You let him tag along anyway, for his peace of mind. 

“My ma didn’t expect any less.” A couple of sharp lessons from Winifred Barnes and Bucky was nothing short of a damn angel. 

You knock on the door three times, crossing your arms over your chest as you waited. 

“Aren’t you the one with the key?” Bucky questions, one hand on his waist. 

The door swung open in the middle of his sentence revealing... you.

Another you.

“Nah, she has it.” Ex-Kidnapped-You raises your head in acknowledgement at Doorway-You.

“Ah.” He fucking knew it. An unnatural sense of smugness blossoms in his chest. 

“Hey,” the both of you said at the same time.

Doorway-You looked way more relaxed, a little less grimy and dishevelled but exactly the same.

“Buck, I see you met my other half,” the you from the doorway greets him. “Or other whole, actually.”

“Sure did.” He sends a glance at Ex-Kidnapped-You.

“You can go on in. Big first day, huh?” Doorway-You refers to the you beside him.

“You wouldn’t believe,” Ex-Kidnaped-You mutters, pushing past the entrance and disappearing inside.

“She gonna be okay?” His gaze trails after your clone.

“Oh yeah, just needs to recharge.” You turn around to make sure she’s fine. “She’s made of some pretty strong carbon, technically almost indestructible.”

No wonder ‘you’ said they couldn’t hurt you.

“Heya, sarge.” You draw his attention back to you. “Always good to see you.”

“Can’t really say the same about you.” 

“Ever the emotional repressor, Mr Barnes. I like this little leather show you got going, did ya wear it just for me?”

He shifts his balance to his other foot, feet slightly wide apart. “Take it that the clone machine finally worked?”

“I was in the middle of celebrating.” You sigh, recalling the events of that morning. “Teleported home for a second to get some champagne and when I came back she was gone.”

“Irresponsible.” He tsks, head shaking in disappointment. 

“Sorry I didn’t take amateur kidnappers into account for my risk factor analysis, Bucky,” you shoot back, pressing on his name for added annoyance. “Anyway, I did the responsible thing. I sent all the evidence I had to you guys.”

“Real clever.” Bucky looks at you in dry amusement. “Attack on the clone? Really?”

“Hey, always make time for a good pun.” You finger gun, lopsided grin on your face. “Did the team like it?”

“They thought it was a typo.” Or a code. He really had Wanda to thank for his big revelation. “Your video didn’t help either.”

“Don’t tell me they couldn’t make out it was me.” You laugh, crossing your arms over your chest.

He doesn’t reply, pursing his lip inwards in sympathy, but more so to conceal a smile.

The happiness drops from your face slowly, horror taking its place. “Don’t tell me they couldn’t make out it was me.”

“Good job, your machine worked,” he adds helpfully.

“C’mon, there were so many differences,” you whine, the success of your endeavour the last thing on your mind. 

“That is your literal clone,” he points out, only to see you- clone you- walk into the giant box in the corner of the room, bright green light emanating from it like a xerox machine.

“How could they not tell the original apart from a copy?” You look genuinely offended. Insane. “Not even Sam?”

“Guess you’re not unique enough.” A rise and fall of his shoulders signify his attitude towards this whole thing. “Think I like your copy better, too, actually.”

“You’re so mean.” You puff in disbelief. “I’m a 100% original. How many mad scientist teachers do you know?”

“Two.” 

“I don’t mean now, that’s not even the-” You poke at his rock hard chest. “You are so much more annoying than when I first met you.”

He thinks it’s good relationship development.

“I have to deal with you every weekend.” He watches your finger drop from his chest. “Picked it up along the way.”

“Boo hoo, talking like you don’t have deep, deep feelings for me.” You roll your eyes. “I see right through you, Bucky Barnes.”

“Can you see the part that couldn’t give less of a shit?” He gestures to himself. “It’s all of it.”

“You think you’re such a comedian, huh?” You narrow your eyebrows. “How did you know she was a fake then, huh?”

Busted.

“Probably ‘cause you didn’t talk as much today,” he dodges. “Actually had some peace of mind for a change.”

“You knew before you got there, you liar.” You push past his fabrications. “You figured it out before everyone else.”

“You literally put it in the title.”

“Yeah, but the rest of the team saw it too.”

“Rest of the team didn’t know you were building a goddamn clone machine for months.”

“You remembered that?” You pulled away, palm over your heart. “Oh, sarge, you paid attention to me.”

His nose twitches.

“You said it, like, eight hundred times.” He could use both his hands to count the number of references you had offhandedly made in the last three weeks alone.

“Why'd you go save me when you knew it wasn't real?” you continue to challenge relentlessly, knowing fully well that he was fibbing. 

“Because you fuckin’ peer pressured me. Had the whole team around me when you sent your little video during breakfast.”

“Just admit it,” you coo, ignoring all his justifications. “You noticed it was fake me right away but showed up anyway because you’re wildly in love with me.”

“No,” he says stiffly. 

“No as in you won’t admit it you have a crush on me, or no as in you didn’t know it was fake me?”

There was no winning this. 

“Good day to you.” He pulls the motorcycle helmet on to hide the expression that plain as day screamed the former of your two options.

“Also,” you bring up indignantly, “she even got to ride the fucking bike and I’ve been asking to drive it for months now!”

“We-” he chooses his words carefully. “-compromised.”

“Oh, you did?” Your voice lowers at the newfound information, interest piqued. “I’m gonna hold you to that then, whatever it is.”

“Doesn’t count.”

“Absolutely does,” you huff. “A promise is legally binding. Blue’s Clues taught me that.”

“Bye, Y/N.”

“You’re my knight in leathery armour,” you swoon, switching sides immediately, “Kinda.”

“See you next week,” he says in farewell, determined to leave before you made it worse. “Try not to get killed by then.”

“Why, so you can do it yourself? Protective much?” You pull him back when he starts walking away, laughing slightly. “Wait a second, you weirdo.”

He sighs, staying put anyway, arms crossed impatiently over his chest.

You pull out the pen tucked behind your ear and slowly tap him twice on each shoulder in a makeshift knighting ceremony. “For your sacrifice.”

He rolls his eyes at the ludicrousness, tongue clicking against the roof of his mouth.

You ignore his lack of enthusiasm, pressing your fingertips to your lips in a small kiss and then to his nose, given that it was the only part of his face you had access to.

“That was for your bravery.” You grin brightly at him and he sure as hell is glad he’s wearing the stupid helmet because he can feel his cheeks light up a bright crimson.

“Thanks.” His voice sounds gruffer than a second ago. He clears his throat.

“Now you’re my knight in leathery armour,” you fawn, nearly falling over yourself dramatically. “Let’s ride into the sunset together. I love you.”

“You’re ridiculous,” he calls out over his shoulder, turning away to return to his bike. “I despise you.”

“But you don’t.”

He really didn’t.

also i managed to fuck my phone up really bad so all proceeds from my ko-fi go towards getting it fixed

Next part

[drarrily-we-row-along]

Day 125.4: Accidental Bonding (Part Four)

(You can start at Part One, if you’d like.)

"Come on," Harry begged, the following Friday. "Please come to dinner." The bond had only seemed to strengthen in the past eighteen days and Harry found his mind turning to thoughts of Draco almost constantly whether they were together or apart.

And touching the other man was almost second nature at this point. They spent all day every day touching the other without thinking; they sat with their ankles pressed together under their desks, hands brushed against shoulders and backs as they walked past each other, they frequently held hands without even talking about it first, and Harry couldn't remember the last time that he'd woken up without being wrapped around Draco's body or vice versa. Yes, the bond wasn't showing any signs of weakening.

"Your friends hate me, Potter," Draco reminded him as he pulled a wine glass down out of the cupboard.

Harry sighed, "But they wouldn't if they got to know you."

Draco leveled him with a glare, the kind that Harry had learned to recognize as a shield of sorts that the other man used when he was feeling insecure. "They have good reason to hate me," he said as he filled the glass.

"Not anymore," he protested.

The other man rolled his eyes and took a large swallow of his wine.

"Come on," he said again. "If you're there no one will flirt with me."

Draco face twisted in disgust, it was unpleasant for both of them if someone touched one of them with certain intentions.

"If they're rude, you can leave right away," he added.

"What's in it for me?" Draco asked.

He thought for a moment, "A foot rub," he offered, remembering the night that Draco had drunkenly been complaining that his feet hurt and Harry had drunkenly offered a foot rub. There'd been something immensely satisfying about it, he assumed it was something to do with the bond and not with the look of rapturous delight on Draco's face.

(Read more below the cut)

Draco's eyes narrowed, "And I can leave immediately if they're unkind."

"Yes."

"And you'll give me a long foot massage?"

He laughed, "Yes."

"Fine."

Harry grinned at him. "Excellent. Let's go then, they're meeting us at The Night Owl."

"How did you know I'd say yes?" he asked, looking affronted.

"I didn't," Harry lied, even he'd had a strong suspicion he could convince the other man. "They could eat there without us if you didn't want to go."

He didn't seem entirely convinced but he allowed Harry to take his elbow and he apparated them to the apparition point closest to The Night Owl.

Ron and Hermione were already sitting at a booth when they arrived, and Harry slid his fingers through Draco's as he headed over. "Hey," he greeted brightly.

His best friends both looked up, smiling at Harry before doing a double take when they saw Draco standing there beside him.

"Malfoy," Hermione said, eyebrows lifting. "What a surprise!" she said, glancing at Harry.

He could feel Draco's nervousness like it was a tangible thing. "Yeah," Harry said, widening his eyes meaningfully at her, "I told you he might be coming."

"Yeah," Ron said, "But we didn't think he actually would."

"Well," Draco said, detaching his hand from Harry's, "This has been fun but I'm going to-"

"No," Harry said, turning toward him and grabbing his hand again, "It's fine," he said, glaring at his friends, who he had told to be on their best behavior and to just give the other man a chance.

"Yes," Hermione piped up. "Stay, please. We were just surprised."

Draco looked at Harry for a long moment, obviously arguing with himself before nodding once and sliding into the booth.

Harry slid in next to him, the first (and hopefully largest) hurdle out of the way.

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

Dinner went surprisingly well. Hermione and Ron obviously struggled a bit but Harry had asked them to give him a chance and they seemed to be trying.

Everyone seemed to relax a bit once they'd had a few drinks and when Draco got up to use the loo, Harry turned to his friends, "So?" he said eagerly, "He's different, right?"

Ron and Hermione looked at each other before Hermione said carefully, "I think it's too soon for me to tell."

"Yeah, mate," Ron agreed, "I know you've always had that thing for Malfoy but," he shrugged, "it's hard to know what's real and what's an act."

"You do know that he like cut ties from his parents, right?" Harry asked incredulously, "he believes that all of that pureblood nonsense is garbage."

"Does he though?" Hermione asked, "Or is that just what it behooves him to have you believe?"

"He lives in a tiny flat!" he protested. "He said that he was so compelled by your arguments about house elves that he couldn't bring himself to have one for his flat."

"Are you sure?" Ron asked, "Or does he just hide it from you? House elves are wicked good at magic."

"He knows how to cook," Harry said, "From scratch. And he knows cleaning spells," he added. "Why would he have to know cleaning spells?"

Hermione looked at him thoughtfully, "Maybe you're right-"

"Just give him a chance," he said. "You won't-"

"Better talk about something else," Ron interrupted, "He's headed this way."

"Well, I tried to get Lugnok to speak with me about the discrimination that Goblins have been facing for ages in the wizarding community, but he wasn't very forthcoming," Hermione started as Draco slid into the booth once again.

"Oh," Draco said as he pressed his shoulder against Harry's and they both relaxed into the pleasant hum thrumming through the bodies, beginning at their shoulders and radiating outward. "I read the last article that you published in The Daily Dilemma," he said excitedly. "It was fascinating," he added.

"Really?" Hermione asked, sounding surprised.

He nodded, "I always wanted to learn more about Goblin magic but good information is so hard to find. When I was young, I'd hoped that it was something they'd teach at Hogwarts-"

"Yes!" Hermione agreed emphatically. "I have been trying to convince Minerva of that for years."

"We don't know nearly enough about magic that other beings possess and honestly," he said, lowering his voice slightly, "I don't know why any other magical being puts up with us. I can't understand it." He shook his head, "I mean for all intents and purposes, their magic is stronger than ours and they've got better control of it. A house elf, for example," he said, "when they want to apparate somewhere it's just a snap of the fingers. And their blind apparation is loads better than ours," he shook his head, "And that's just one spell."

Hermione nodded, "It's never made sense to me."

Draco swallowed, "I'm sorry about that, by the way," he said, not quite meeting her eye, "for making fun of your organization." Then his mouth twisted, "For a lot of things, really," he continued. "Many that were worse than that."

"Thank you," Hermione said after a moment. "I appreciate your apology."

He nodded once. "You probably know this already, but Henri Laurence is a real advocate for changing the way we treat other magical beings. He could probably help your causes."

"Who?" she asked, brows furrowing as she tried to place the name.

"Henri Laurence," he repeated.

She shook her head, "I'm not familiar with that name."

"He works in transportation," Draco replied.

"Why would I talk to someone in transportation?"

He gave her a wry smile, "Henri works closely with a lot of department heads to schedule their trips. He's very amiable and everyone loves him," he added. "More than one political career has risen and fallen by his words. He also works with the Minister quite a bit, the Minister is quite fond of him."

"I never would have thought to start there. Thanks for the tip," she said, giving him a cautious half smile.

"Of course," Draco said automatically. "I'd be glad to give you names if you're ever wondering the best way to get things into people's ears. I'm afraid I can't do introductions, though," he said with a self depreciating laugh.

"Thank you," Hermione said, sounding genuinely grateful. "That would be so helpful."

Draco gave her a little smile and Harry felt hope bubbling merrily in his chest.

----------

As the evening drew to a natural close, Harry couldn't help but think that everything went exceptionally well.

Draco was still talking about Hermione's current project with the Goblins at Gringotts as Harry headed back toward the bedroom, Draco trailing along behind him. "It's invaluable," he said as he started to strip so he could put on his pajamas. "This research could change the way that we think about other beings. We could really have the opportunity to understand them better and then maybe we'd understand our own magic and our own limitations better."

Harry nodded, "You sound just like her. I thought you two might hit it off."

"Did you?" Draco asked curiously as he crawled into bed.

He nodded, sitting at the bottom and pulling Draco's left foot into his lap, pressing his thumbs up the curve of Draco's arch. "You're the only other person I know who likes to talk about Magic Theory."

He let out a low moan as Harry's thumbs rubbed the ball of his foot, "Potter, you are really good at that," he said, thoroughly distracted from the conversation they'd been having.

Harry laughed.

"I'm serious!" the other man protested. "If the whole saving the world, one idiot at a time thing fails, you can go into foot massages."

Chuckling, he shook his head, "Can you imagine?"

"Yes," Draco replied, closing his eyes and settling further into the mattress, "I'd come see you every day."

"Ah, in that case," Harry teased, "maybe I should think about it."

"You do that," he said, in that distant voice that meant he wasn't listening to him anymore.

"Read something," Harry said.

The other man opened one eye to look down at Harry, "What?"

"Read me something," he said. "Grab a book off your nightstand," he said, nodding to the pile, "And read. But don't pick something boring."

Draco reached over and plucked a slender book off the nigh stand, "I think you'll like this one. He gets everything wrong but it's delightful." He cleared his throat, "In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit..."

Harry listened as he read, a smile tugging at his lips, his chest filling with warmth.

This was nice, Harry couldn't help but think. Living with someone, sharing meals with someone, having someone in your bed when you went to sleep and when you woke up. It was nice to have the sound of someone else's voice and the feeling of someone else's hand in yours.

He wondered if he'd miss it when the bond ended in twelve days.

More importantly, he wondered if Draco would miss it.

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

Part 3 | Part 5

[matwith1t]

A/N: Hiiii!! More writing! Yay! This was a fun one!! It’s 98% fluff with 2% angst, but I promise it has a happy ending 🙂 Thank you all so much for your encouraging words!! I cherish them all & hold them close to my heart 🥺 Any and all feedback is appreciated! I hope you enjoy !

Summary: From your first date, first kiss, first hockey game of Mat’s, first I love you, to your first fight…You always learned something new about him.

MASTERLIST | LET’S CHAT 🥂 | Mat Barzal x Reader

Warnings: One swear word & brief allusion to smut // WC: 11.6K // Fluff & Slight Angst

It was your first date.

A blind date.

The nerves got the best of you, so you arrived at the coffee shop early. What if the subway line you had to take was late? What if you missed a stop? What if you took a wrong turn down a street? Twenty minutes might be a bit too early, but it was the only way to ease your anxiety.

You don’t even know the last time you were on a blind date. Your friend, Hayden, had set it up. After a drunken confession over a shared bottle of wine, you admitted you were scared that you were running out of time to find your person. And that’s when an idea clicked in her mind.

She said she had a friend––Mat––who was tired of flings and wanted to really date someone. You waved her off, the idea of being set up seemed too middle school for you. But after she showed you a picture of him…you gave her the go ahead to send him your number.

She contacted Mat, and he said that he was all in for a blind date with you.

You tapped your foot on the pavement as you stood outside of the coffee shop entrance you agreed to meet at. After scrolling through your social media a few times, you clicked on your messages. Were you at the right coffee shop? You clicked on his name, and triple checked that you had the correct place and time.

“Uh, Y/N?”

At the sound of your name, you peered up from your phone and saw a nervous looking boy––a boy you recognized from the picture your friend showed you on a drunken Friday night. With a nervous breath, you offered him a tight lipped smile, “Mat?”

He visibly relaxed at your confirmation that he didn’t walk up a stranger. He ran a hand through his messy styled hair and easily smiled, “Yeah, I––Hi.”

“Hi,” you let out a small laugh.

Oh my God, this is so awkward, you thought to yourself. This was why blind dates were only met for middle school. A blind date was not meant for anytime after that.

While you hadn’t even spent five minutes in his presence, your mind already jumped to the worst conclusion of this not working out as either of you planned. While dating might not work out, maybe you could get a friend out of this.

Mat took a step around you and opened the door, “Should we head in?”

With a nod, you thanked him for holding the door open. Walking in, you were instantly engulfed with the smell of freshly ground coffee beans and the sound of hardworking espresso machines. The shop was bustling with city goers, but there were enough empty tables that you didn’t feel the need to rush to save one. You let out another deep breath as you felt Mat’s shoulder slightly brush yours as he stood next to you in line.

“What are you getting?” He looked down at you.

You tilted your head as you read the menu board that hung behind the counter, “Maybe one of their house lattes?” You then moved your gaze to look up at him, “What about you?”

He shrugged his shoulders, eyes not nearly looking at the menu for as long as you did to decide on a drink, before his eyes landed back on you with a smile, “An iced coffee.”

His smile was infectious. His smile was pretty. And you felt your stomach twist in knots the more you paid attention to the way his smile affected you.

“Also, you can––uh––get whatever you want,” his checks turned a bright shade of red as he stumbled over his words, “I’ll buy.”

You shook your head, but before you could say anything, the two of you were at the front of the line.

Mat was first with his order––an iced coffee––and then he turned his body to look at you, “And whatever she’s having.” You smiled in appreciation and gave the barista your order. You were about to move out of the way, and wait for Mat to be done paying, but he asked you another question, “Do you want anything to eat?”

You felt bad having him pay for coffee and something to eat. It was a coffee shop in New York after all, but the sound of your stomach making a high-pitched grumble sold you out. You felt yourself grow hot with embarrassment, and asked for a croissant. Mat tacked on two croissants to the order and swiped his credit card as if the steep price for two coffees and two pastries in a New York coffee shop wasn’t a concern.

From the two details Hayden had told you––which were his name and age––you knew he was young like you. If you wanted to splurge on a day like this, you needed to budget ahead of time correctly. While you were appreciative of Mat paying for you…it was a blind date. And you didn’t expect him to put so much effort into it

Maybe he budgeted his money better than you.

With your croissants on a plate, the two of you found a place to sit by a window. You tapped your fingers on the wooden table top. It was still awkward, you thought to yourself, as you counted down the seconds until your drinks came. Mat seemed to feel the awkwardness in the air too, but he braved his way through the weird atmosphere.

“So…” he nodded his head for ten seconds straight, eyes darting around the coffee shop, as he cut through the silence, “Where are you from?”

You answered his question, rambling a bit to fill the void, and then asked him the same question. It went back and forth like that for maybe thirteen minutes until your drinks were brought out to your table. Thankful that you had something to sip on if there was a lull in conversation, you circled your hands around the hot mug.

But the conversation never hit a lull; it was fun not knowing anything about Mat before you met him. And he seemed to enjoy it as much as you. You struggled to drink your coffee in a reasonable amount of time to save it from growing cold because of how much the two of you consecutively talked.

“So what do you do?” You took a sip of your lukewarm coffee.

He raised an eyebrow, “What do I do?”

You hummed a simple mhm at him as you swallowed down your drink, “Like, for work,” you set your mug down on the table and leaned forward, “What’s your job?”

“My job…” Mat muttered under his breath as he leaned back on the chair, crossing his arms over his chest. Your eyes flickered down to see the slight flex of his muscles, and when you reconnected eyes with him, he smirked, “I play hockey.”

You scrunched your eyebrows together, “Hockey?”

Mat nodded his head, the smirk on his face growing, as he kept silent. The two of you had been doing so well in avoiding silences, but you caught yourself in one. So, you took a sip of your drink, in hopes he would say something more about his job. But he continued to confidently sit back in his seat.

Not enjoying the sudden awkwardness, you added a futile point to your conversation, “I––I have some friends who play hockey. Only on the weekends though. Kind of like a rec league? Or just a pick up game––”

If you thought his smile was infectious, all you had to do was hear his laugh.

It was soft, a little more high-pitched than you imagined, as he slightly shook his head back and forth. The corners of his eyes crinkled slightly as his eyes shut for a few seconds. As his soft laughter settled down, he scratched the bridge of his nose, eyes glimmering under the natural light that shined through the window next to him.

It was a glimpse into how he sounded when he felt happy. And you wanted nothing more than to hear a real––eyes screwed shut tight, nose wrinkling, head tilted back––laugh from him.

Mat mirrored you; he leaned slightly forward, forearms resting against the table as his smile slowly transformed back into a smirk, “I play professional hockey.”

Professional hockey…But he looked so young. The only rational explanation you could think of in your head was that he played hockey for a minor league team in New York.

With a nod of your head, you took another sip of your drink. The hour you had spent with Mat flowed easily, but for some reason, finding out that he was some sort of professional athlete produced a feeling of insecurity inside of you.

You took another long sip of your coffee.

“You’ll have to come to a game,” Mat’s confident voice dropped to a hesitant whisper, “If you want to.”

Setting the empty mug down on the table, you bit the inside of your cheek to conceal your growing smile. You let out a silent deep breath, collecting your thoughts, because if he wanted you to come watch him play, that meant he had to see some sort of future with you.

Whether the future be two and a half weeks, five months, or four years…He saw you in his life somehow.

“I’d like to see you play,” you assured him.

His eyebrows animatedly rose up, almost getting lost under the loose strands of hair that fell a little too perfectly against his forehead, and smiled wide, “Awesome, that’s––Okay, yeah, I’ll text you about it.”

Neither of you could hide the smiles on your face.

After sitting at the table with empty coffee mugs for quite some time, the only reason why the date ended was because Mat said he had to go dog sit for one of his teammates. Regretfully, both of you brought your empty coffee mugs to the counter, and walked out the door with smiles, laughter, and a promise from Mat to text you about attending one of his games.

As you made the journey back to your place, you didn’t know the last time you felt this giddy after a first date. While you learned surface level information about him; you also learned the sound of his laugh, and that he wasn’t too fond of dogs.

And you couldn’t wait to learn more about him.

–––

It was your first kiss with Mat.

A nervous first kiss.

It came close to a month after your first date, and admittedly, it was probably the longest you had waited for a first kiss, but Mat had a streak of away games that kept him from New York and the two of you had only hung out in public. While a first kiss walking through a park had been romanticized one too many times, it would have left you in a daydream––but whenever it felt right––someone always came up to Mat to talk about hockey. While he wasn’t approached in public often, it seemed like whenever he was, it ruined the moment.

Maybe it was a sign he would be better off as just a friend.

But that thought always disappeared whenever he gently slid his hand into yours, intertwining your fingers and giving your hand a squeeze. And just like the first time you held his hand, there was an explosion of ecstasy in your chest.  A good tightness in your chest you felt whenever he held your hand.

You were at a bar with Mat and some friends, your fingers interlocked and resting on his thigh, pressed close up to his side. A smile lit up your face whenever you felt his chest lightly shake with laughter or his thumb softly graze the top of your hand. The only part of the night where your smile tugged downward was when everyone decided to call it an early night.

As if Mat felt the same disappointment, he whispered in your ear, “I’ll take you back to your place.”

You wished he would ask if you wanted to get ice-cream at the parlor a few blocks over, or ask if you wanted to stay at the bar, but you knew he had an early morning tomorrow. All you wanted was to spend more time with him, and if him making sure you got home alright was how you spent more time with him, you would take it.

After tabs were paid off and goodbyes were said, everyone was off in their separate directions. Except for you and Mat.

Surprisingly, the streets weren’t that crowded for it being the early evening in New York, but Mat tugged you close to his side; fingers still intertwined. The walk to the subway was full of quiet conversation of observations the two of you made down the street with a few small laughs. And when you were on the platform for your train, your laughs turned to whispers.

“If Beau was a little too much, let me know,” Mat leaned down to whisper softly in your ear, “and I’ll beat him up.”

A soft chuckle left your lips as you leaned your head against his bicep, shaking your head, you looked up at him, “You said that last time. He’s nice, I like him.”

Mat hummed, “Sometimes his teasing goes a little too far.”

His voice was light-hearted, just like how Tito sounded when he teased Mat whenever he whispered in your ear throughout the evening, but there was an underlying uncertainty in his voice. Almost like he was concerned that if Tito teased you too much you wouldn’t want to spend anymore time with Mat. But that was quite the opposite. Whenever a best friend poked fun at the other, it was almost always meant in good nature, and it also showed that Mat confided his feelings about you with Tito.

You mirrored his soft hum, and squeezed his hand, as you shrugged your shoulders, “I wouldn’t mind more of his teasing,” you smiled up at him, hoping that he caught the hidden meaning behind your sentence; you seeing a future together with more interactions with his best friend. “My friends are the same way.”

Mat raised his eyebrows, and you ducked your chin into your chest out of nervousness at his next words, “So is that our next date? I meet your friends?”

Next date.

The thought of going on countless more dates with Mat caused an electric jolt to shoot down your spine. And when you flicked your eyes up to stare into his, you felt as if you were caught in one of your dreams. His eyes were already gazing on you in awe, with the corners of his lips lightly tuned upward into a soft closed lipped smile.

He moved his head closer to yours, it was just a centimeter of movement, but you noticed it. And you held your breath as you looked down at his lips, hoping that you would finally have your first kiss with Mat.

But like all of the people who interrupted the two of you whenever you were on a walk in the park, the harsh breaking sounds of the subway coming to a halt caused Mat to move away and stand up straight.

Mat cleared his throat and you let out a sigh at the ruined moment.

The train stopped, you waited until people were off the train car, and Mat swiftly tugged on your hand to make sure that the train didn’t escape before you had the chance to get on. The train car was empty, also a very rare sight on a still relatively early evening in New York. You made your way to sit on one of the empty seats, but your stretched out arm snapped back into Mat’s chest as he held tight onto your hand.

“Do you not want to sit?” You looked up at him as he gripped onto the pole in the center of the subway car.

Mat shook his head as he dropped your hand. But you didn’t have time to be sad at the loss of contact for long because Mat curled his arm around your waist, “Too dirty,” he mumbled under his breath as he pulled you close to his chest, “And we’ve been sitting all night, kinda wanna stand.”

You rolled your eyes at him and pressed your palms flat against his chest as the train jolted to a start.

Standing in silence with Mat on the empty subway was more relaxing than it should have been. Because while the unpleasant sound of the subway on the tracks echoed through the tunnel, with your head resting on Mat’s chest, all you heard was the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

You could feel yourself dozing off as his thumb rubbed soothing circles on your hip, but your senses heightened when he trailed his hand slowly up your back. The feeling of his fingertips making contact with your spine caused goosebumps along your skin. And you swore your breathing stopped when you felt his hand trail up your neck, his fingers cradling the back of your head with his thumb on your cheek.

Hesitantly––hoping that you knew what was to come in the next few moments––you looked up at Mat through your eyelashes.

His bottom lip was pulled between his teeth as he stared down at you with a crease in between his eyebrows. With your hands still firmly placed on his chest, you could feel the deep breath he let out through his nose.

“I like you,” Mat blurted out.

You let out a breathy chuckle at his admission. You knew that he liked you by the way he always held your hand and how he liked to call you more than text, but to hear him verbalize his feelings felt nice.

You bit the inside of your cheek to contain your smile as you saw his head move a centimeter closer to yours, “I like you, too.”

Mat glanced at your lips, and then at your eyes, and even with a slight nod of your head, Mat still hesitated as if he was waiting for you to pull away. But you weren’t going to pull away––you didn’t want to pull away––because you had been waiting for this moment where your heart hammered in your chest, and your breath got caught in your throat.

And as you felt him let out another shaky breath, you closed your eyes and leaned up on your toes to press a kiss to his lips. His lips touched yours gently at first, a tender brush, as if he anticipated being electrocuted by a spark. But when nothing happened, Mat tucked his lower lip between yours in another gentle, but lingering kiss.

You had plenty of first kisses before in your life; there had been first kisses that had been harder, more rushed, more chaste…but never had you felt a first kiss that was so simple and right than you did with Mat. Your lips were merely pressed together, but you could still feel him everywhere.

There was something so innocent about the kiss, as if both of you were afraid to mess up.

The two of you separated just as softly as you’d come together, just enough room to where you could peer up at him and still feel his breath across your face. Then the two of you laughed. Shy, whispery giggles that had more to do with nerves rather than humor. And as the two of you continued to stare into each other’s eyes, it was as if instinct kicked in and Mat’s lips were back on yours.

This time, your lips met with more certainty, eager to feel. A soft sigh escaped your lips when Mat parted his lips further and you felt the tip of his tongue. The hand that had previously cupped your cheek, was now on around your lower back as he pressed you close to him. And to keep yourself steady as the subway car went around a bend, one of your hands gripped his shirt as the other clutched onto his bicep.

As the two of you shared your first kiss on an empty New York subway, you learned a few more things about Mat. You finally learned what his lips felt like pressed against yours, and that he was absolutely terrible at navigating the subway after the two of you missed your stop.

With the way he made you feel during your first kiss, you couldn’t wait to feel that spark of joy again.

–––

It was your first hockey game.

Your first New York Islanders hockey game where you knew a player on the ice…and more importantly, where a player was your boyfriend.

“Oh he will love it,” Hayden smirked at the #13 jersey you wore as the two of you walked with the crowd toward the arena, “I still can’t believe you thought he was a minor league hockey player.”

You lightly knocked your shoulder against hers as you let out a small laugh, “How was I supposed to know he played for the National Hockey League?” You raised your eyebrows at her, “You literally only told me his name and that we were around the same age when you set us up.”

She tipped her head back in laughter, “I thought you paid attention to sports!”

“I do!” You mirrored her smile as the two of you took out your tickets to be scanned, “But you can’t see what they look like under their helmets clearly.”

After the two of you passed security, you found yourself amongst a sea of white, navy blue, and orange as you walked to your seats, “I still can’t believe he didn’t tell you he played for the Isles.” She snickered, “He has way too big of an ego to let that slide.”

You felt your stomach churn with embarrassment as your whole body heated up.

While Mat said that he played professional hockey on your first date, he conveniently left out that he played for the New York Islanders. It was a week and a half after your first date when you found out that detail. Mat was away for a few road games, and as the two of you were texting, he casually slipped in that you should watch the game on T.V.

You thought he was joking because you didn’t think that they broadcasted minor league hockey games on television. But he called you to give you his NHL TV login and informed you to tune in at 7 PM for the New York Islanders game. Again, you thought he was joking, but you tuned in anyway.

The shock you felt through your body was unlike anything else you felt when you heard the announcers talk about how amazing Mat Barzal has played for years as an Islander. And when the camera focused in on him for a few seconds, you scrambled to text Hayden for confirmation.

But now, nearly three months into your relationship, you had found a time where your schedule worked with Mat’s to go to one of his games. He asked if you wanted to sit with his teammate’s significant others, but you said you would be more comfortable with Hayden for your first hockey game of his.

As the two of you sat down a few rows behind the Islanders bench, you tugged the sleeves of your #13 Barzal jersey over your hands. He’s your boyfriend, you thought to yourself as you felt self-conscious wearing his jersey, no need to be nervous…other people are wearing his jersey too.

But those other people didn’t share intimate moments with him. Other people didn’t know how his calloused hands felt as they delicately touched your skin. Other people didn’t know he slightly snored when he napped.

Sure, other people idolized him as a hockey player, but you were always in awe of him when you learned a specific trait about him that he didn’t share with the rest of the world.

“Do you see him?” Hayden leaned over to speak in your ear as she pointed to Mat skating on the ice, “Right there.”

With a hockey stick in his hands, Mat skated in circles to practice his puck movement. The face you admired so much was hidden under his helmet, but you could clearly see his number and last name on his jersey.

You smiled wide and nodded your head, “This is exciting.”

Hayden laughed at your eagerness to have the game start as you practically bounced in your seat. Soon enough, the players finished their warm ups and skated toward the bench. One by one, they hopped off the ice.

“I’m gonna call out his name,” Hayden smirked as she cupped her hands around her mouth.

But with wide eyes and embarrassment already in the pit of your stomach, you pulled her hands away from her mouth, “Don’t you dare––”

“Looks like he’s already found you,” Hayden’s smirk widened as she waved her hand at who you presumed was Mat.

You whipped your head around to the bench and saw Mat, with his helmet off, awkwardly half-turned around on the bench as he sat next to a number #18 and #27. And like every time you saw him, a smile that you couldn’t contain instantly made its way onto your face. You picked up your hand and animatedly waved at him with a beaming smile.

Mat lowered his head for a moment, hair slightly falling onto his forehead, and when he picked his head up to wave at you, you saw his cheeks twinged with pink coloring.

Feeling too excited watching your boyfriend play live for the first time tonight, you couldn’t help but turn your shoulder toward him as you showed off the #13 on your sleeve. When you dropped the hand that stretched out the sleeve to show him his number, you expected to see a smile as wide as yours on his face. But instead, you saw his eyes wide open and mouth formed in a straight line, jaw slightly clenched, as his chest expanded; taking in a deep breath.

Confused, you tilted your head and looked at Hayden, “Is he not happy that I’m wearing––”

Letting out her loudest laugh of the night, Hayden bent forward and clutched her stomach, “Oh, you don’t know what you’ve gotten yourself into.”

Hayden had known Mat longer than you, so you knew that she knew things about him that you weren’t privy to yet. But her comment intrigued you.

“What do you mean?”

She just shook her head as her shoulders still slightly shook.

You turned back around in hopes to see Mat, but when your eyes landed on the bench, you saw Mat being jostled between the two players he sat next to. And upon further inspection, you read the last names on the jersey’s; Beauvillier and Lee.

Lee was still elbowing Mat when Tito turned around with a wicked smile. He cupped a hand around his mouth, “Nice jersey! He loves it!”

Tito’s voice fell a little flat among the crowd that started to fill their way to their seats, but you still heard him. And his comment only spurred on more laughter from Hayden.

At this point in your relationship with Mat, you were used to Tito’s teasing. And in the time you had been in the arena, you had grown accustomed to Hayden’s laughs. You didn’t think too much of their actions, your mind still wrapped around how all you wanted was for the game to begin.

And soon enough, the game started.

You were on the edge of your seat for the entire first period, clutching Hayden’s hand anytime Mat was shoved from behind or slammed into the boards. The second period was just as thrilling, and even though a penalty was called on Mat, he caught your eye briefly before he sat down in the penalty box. And the third period…While you stood up and cheered with the rest of the arena whenever the Islanders scored, no amount of excitement in the first two periods felt as exhilarating as when you watched Mat score.

With Hayden, you leaped up and hugged her tight as you cheered with a blinding smile.

“He scored!” You held her at arm's length away before turning your attention back on the ice.

His line-mates gathered him up in a hug, patting his helmet, and then he skated out with a wide smile. Mat was on his way to high-five his teammates on the bench, but before he held his glove out for them, he quickly pointed in the general direction of where you were sitting.

To anyone, it looked like he was pointing toward the Islanders bench, or even at the fans. And while there was an increase of cheers from your section at Mat’s little call out, you knew he was pointing out one specific fan in the crowd.

After the third period ended––with the Islanders winning by three––fans could either be heard still celebrating, or seen walking up the aisles to beat the traffic. But you and Hayden stayed in your seats, and especially paid attention to Mat who was out on the ice giving a post-game interview. His voice boomed through the arena, but all you could focus on was his heavy breathing and how his hair stuck to his sweaty forehead.

With most of your section cleared out, you and Hayden walked down to the row right behind the glass that was closest to the ice. Not one to shy away from being heard, Hayden pounded her fist against the glass and shouted your boyfriend’s name, “Mat!”

She continued to pound on the glass and call out his name until his post-game interview ended. And when the camera cut, Mat’s eyebrows automatically rose as he skated toward the two of you with a smile.

Through the glass, you waved at him, “You played so well! So amazing––And that goal?! You were so incredible.” His wide smile slowly transformed into a smirk as his eyes darkened just a bit, “That was so much fun.”

Mat chuckled and shook out his hair, “‘I’m glad you had a good time.”

“You two!” Hayden called out. You and Mat both broke eye contact with each other to see your mutual friend standing a few rows up with her phone pointed at the two of you, “Smile! It’s your first hockey game together.”

You let out a soft laugh as you turned around and leaned your back against the glass, standing up on your tiptoes so you didn’t look shorter next to Mat who wore skates. And as if he was physically next to you, and not separated by plexiglass, you leaned your head towards him and smiled wider than you had ever in your life.

After Hayden finished taking more than enough photos to commemorate your first hockey game of Mat’s, you spun around to face him again. From behind, you heard an usher say that it was time for fans to leave the arena, but you clearly heard Hayden say, I’m with her and that’s her boyfriend.

You rolled your eyes at Hayden and scratched the bridge of your nose as you stared at Mat through the glass.

“I need to change,” He chuckled, “But I’ll meet you outside? Hayden knows where the exit is.”

You nodded your head vigorously, “That sounds good, yeah,” the smile you had when you took your picture together never left your face, “I still can’t believe how well you played, it was––Oh my God. I can’t wait to come to more games.”

The smirk Mat had on his face as you praised his performance morphed into a faint smile as he poked the glass with his glove where your face was, “Keep the compliments coming when I’m off the ice.” You rolled your eyes at him as he waved at you, “I’ll see you soon.”

You raised your hand to touch the cold glass, “Bye,” you whispered as your fingertips slowly trailed down the glass as you watched Mat skate away backwards.

Feeling like you were on top of the world, you spun around with a lovesick smile on your face, ready to meet your boyfriend at the exit. Walking up the aisle and out of the arena, Hayden sent you the pictures she took of you and Mat. And as you waited by the exit Mat said Hayden knew, you set your lock screen and home screen to one of the pictures taken just twenty minutes ago.

When you heard the familiar laugh of your boyfriend, your ears perked up and you put your phone in your bag. And when you saw him walking out in his game day suit with Tito––who shoved Mat’s shoulder––for the hundredth time that day, you smiled.

Standing up from the stone ledge you sat on with Hayden, you rocked on your heels as you waited for Mat to come closer. And once he wasn’t too far away, you sped walked over to Mat as Hayden walked more slowly behind you as she snorted at your eagerness.

While you found it fun to watch Mat skate around the ice having the time of his life, there was nothing you enjoyed more than hugging him. You almost didn’t see his glowing smile––one that showcased all of his teeth––before you barreled into him.

Arms wrapped tightly around his waist, you hugged him impossibly close to you, “That was––Ah!––I’m still not over how fun that was,” you pressed a kiss to his neck before tilting your head up to look at him, “I know I already said how good your goal was so good––And I’ll stop after this––But really, that was so cool how you skated around those defenders and––”

Both Tito and Hayden’s laugh caused you to stop complimenting Mat on his goal. You caught a glimpse of Mat’s glare on his two friends, and then turned your head over your shoulder to see them hanging off each other as they laughed. You felt Mat’s hands tighten around your waist, the tips of his fingers felt like they burned a hole through your clothes and scorched your skin.

“Oh don’t––Don’t mind us,” Hayden wiped a few tears away from the corners of her eyes, “Please, carry on––”

You scrunched your eyebrows together in confusion.

“Barz, will––He’ll––” Tito’s face went red as he found it harder to breathe through his laughter. But once he calmed down, he chuckled, “Don’t stop praising him, he loves it.”

Mat flipped off his friends as he raised his hand to where the 13 patch was on your shoulder. With a small smile, he tugged on your sleeve a few times, “Hayden, send me the pictures you took,” he yelled over to his still laughing friends before he pressed a quick kiss to your lips.

As the night continued on, the four of you celebrated the win and Mat’s goal with drinks at a bar. As you leaned your head on Mat’s shoulder, you learned how fun it was to attend one of his games. And you learned that the rush of joy you felt course through your veins when you saw Mat succeed was unparalleled to any feeling of happiness you had ever felt with a partner.

And late that night in Mat’s apartment, as your hands wandered through his hair, over his biceps, and across his chest…He trailed his lips across your cheek, down your neck, and down past the valley of your breasts…You also learned that Mat liked to be praised in more ways than one.

–––

It was your first I love you.

The first I love you that you said to a person where you felt the sensation of those words taking over every crevice of your body…but like your first date, those words made you anxious and light-headed at the thought of admitting it.

Love.

Love was a commitment; a feeling that shouldn’t be taken lightly when in relation to two people who mutually cared and respected each other. It was a word you cherished, a feeling you craved nothing more in the world; and it was exactly how you felt about Mat.

Eleven months into your relationship with Mat––that you didn’t even think would get this far––you knew you were in love with him. There were times the sentence almost slipped past your lips, and there were moments where you thought he would say it too…but like your first kiss, both of you were hesitant.

Since the day you met him, you learned something new about him each day, and you didn’t want to stop getting to know him.

“So, what are you doing with your break?” You spoke through your phone as you waited at a street corner for the light to change with a group of people.

Mat scoffed, “This is hardly a break,” he bitterly whispered into his phone, “Literally not even a five minute water break.”

You gripped the brown paper bag of small groceries in your hand as your heart ached at his exhausted voice. Mat explained to you that the Islanders were going through some sort of bootcamp to get them out of their losing slump. But the bootcamp was on top of their already packed schedule of games and practices.

“And they can do this?” The light changed and you moved with the crowd, “It doesn’t seem fair.”

Mat let out an exasperated breath, and you could picture him running a hand over his face, “I miss you.”

Him changing the subject wasn’t lost on you, but with the limited time Mat had and how drained he sounded, you knew better than to press the subject further.

“I miss you too,” you smiled softly as you dodged a few people walking down the opposite direction of you on the sidewalk, “I just bought stuff for dinner tonight though, so that’s––”

But your sentence was cut off as someone rudely knocked into your shoulder hard––Watch it, they sneered at you––and caused you to stumble into a few people walking next to you.

“Sorry, sorry,” you apologized to the people you crashed into. They smiled in appreciation, knowing full well that if it wasn’t for the person who bumped your shoulder, the accident would’ve been averted.

“What was that?”

Mat’s worn out voice from before disappeared as he now sounded on high alert.

“Nothing,” you let out a sigh, because while you knew it wasn’t your fault you stumbled into people, it still felt embarrassing, “But as I was saying, for dinner––”

“No, that––I heard someone yell at you,” Mat’s voice was low, insistent on what he heard on your end, “What happened? Are you okay?”

You sucked in a deep breath, “Yeah, someone just bumped into my shoulder.” Because while it was New York, and you had been bumped into plenty of times before, it had been a bit of a rough day. But you didn’t want that one thing to tip you over the edge, especially when you knew Mat was having it worse than you, “It’s fine, I’m fine. The eggs didn’t crack so it’s a win.”

Mat didn’t laugh at your attempt at a joke.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” He paused before his voice dropped to an earnest whisper, “If you need me I can leave to come get you.”

“But practice––”

“No,” Mat cut you off, “If you need me I can leave.”

You thought about it. You thought hard about just waiting off in a park for Mat to come pick you up. But the subway station you needed to enter came into your eyesight. Even though he couldn’t see you, you shook your head, “I’m fine, I’ll just need a hug when I see you later.”

At that, Mat let out a breathy chuckle, “You and me both.”

You smiled, the familiar feeling of love that started with the squeeze of your heart spread through the rest of your body.

“Dinner at your place?”

“Yeah, my place tonight,” you answered him, “How much longer of this practice?”

You could hear the eye roll Mat gave off with his irritated voice, “Three fucking hours.”

Even though you weren’t a professional athlete, you rolled your eyes with him at how ridiculous all of the intense practice sounded, “As much as I want to keep talking with you,” you dreamily smiled to yourself because there was nothing you loved more than hearing Mat’s voice, “I know you said if players were late they have to run laps after practice.” You grimaced, “And I’m about to go under for the subway.”

Mat let out a sigh, he didn’t want to stop talking with you either, “Yeah…Running laps is the penalty.”

“You should be used to those.”

Mat scoffed at your comment, ”I’ll see you later at your place.”

“Mhm, bye Mat,” you hummed as you began to make your descent below ground, “I love you.”

“Wait, what––”

You ended the call and slid your phone into your bag as you took out your subway card. Easily, you swiped your card past tourists, and walked through the turnstile to the platform back to your place. While the rest of the day wasn’t on your side, the subway was, because your train pulled up right as you got to the platform.

While there were still seats available for you to sit in, you had grown accustomed to standing in the middle of the subway cart. You hooked your elbow around the pole, so that your hand wasn’t directly touching it, as you thought about the day on your way home.

It started off normal; waking up, getting ready for work, arriving at the office. But then small things started to happen; you forgot your laptop charger back at your apartment, someone had accidentally taken your lunch from the communal fridge because they thought it was theirs, and then someone spilled coffee on your freshly printed reports. But then the day got worse; Mat texted you saying he wouldn’t be done practice until late, your co-worker best friend said they were leaving the company for a new job, and then that stranger hit your shoulder.

But hearing Mat’s voice made your day a little better.

Knowing that he took time out of his grueling schedule to check in on you made your heart flutter even more with love.

Love.

Your eyes widened as the grip you had on the handle of the paper bag dropped. Your grocery bag fell to the ground just as fast as your heart. Because the last sentence you said to Mat replayed in your mind like a broken record.

I love you.

You didn’t even realize that you had said those words. You clutched those words close to your chest; held them so tight as if it was a secret Mat didn’t already know. And now all of a sudden…Your secret was out in the open.

The bile churning in your stomach caused your body to overheat and you wanted nothing more than to be out of the subway. You picked a loose piece of skin by your thumb so hard that it started to bleed. You swore under your breath as it began to sting, and curled your hand into a tight fist––with your thumb on the inside––to put pressure on the cut.

Unable to stand still with your anxiety, you got off a stop early and walked the rest of the way back to your apartment.

You had nearly walked into several people, almost walked across the street on a red light, and more or less banged your forehead against your front door. You thought you had unlocked the door, so when you turned the door handle, stepped forward, and walked into the wooden door…you saw that your keys had fallen to the ground.

Once you properly unlocked the door, you quickly walked into your apartment and hastily set the grocery bag down on the island. With shaking hands, you buried your face into them and let out a muffled whine. Because how could you let those words out so casually? How could you have been so careless?

Mat had three more hours left of practice. And that left you with three hours in your apartment alone.

You couldn’t even bring yourself to look at your phone to see if he was still coming over. So you cleaned. You changed out of your work clothes––into a pair of athletic shorts and one of Mat’s Islander shirts––and deep cleaned as much of your apartment as you could.

And it was when you were bent sideways, windex and paper towel in hand, as you scrubbed the inside of your microwave that you heard a key in your door. You felt your heart freeze and you scrubbed the microwave even harder.

The creek of the door echoed through your modestly sized one bedroom apartment just as loud as your heartbeat pounded in your ears. The door shut the same time you heard the thump of his practice bag hit the hardwood floor.

And if you listened closely, you could hear him let out the same anxious deep breath as you.

Mat ever so slowly made his way out of the little hallway, and when you saw him appear in front of you––still bent at your awkward angle––it was as if you saw him in a different way.

Mat inhaled deeply, and then in one breath, his shoulders relaxed as he smiled at you, “I love you.”

You stared into his eyes enough times to know they were hazel, but where he stood in your kitchen, his eyes were dark brown. They weren’t illuminated with flecks of gold or green like you had seen in the past, but they were warm and inviting as his eyes captivated you in a different way than ever before. You loved his eyes.

You ran your fingers through his hair enough times to memorize the feeling how soft it felt, but his hair was a little longer in the front than usual. And with him looking like he ran right off the ice to be with you, his loose strands of scraggly hair fell messily against his forehead. You loved the way his hair framed his face.

Everything about him…from the slight stubble on his face that came close to breaking the Islanders facial hair policy, to the way he never got mad at you when you stuck your cold feet under his warm legs when you sat on the couch together. From his annoying traits, to the quirks only you knew about him, you loved everything about him

You released a breath you didn’t know you held because this…this was what it felt like to feel in love. It was fresh and exciting with hearts pounding. It was desire pouring through veins. It was a give and take; intertwined lives.

As the two of you stood in your kitchen, you learned what it felt like to feel entirely at ease with your place in the universe. For better or for worse, love is learning everything there is to know about a person.

And you couldn’t wait to learn how he loved.

–––

It was your first real fight with Mat.

And it terrified you.

The day had felt odd from the start; your routine not flowing like usual. And as the day continued on, you didn’t know what caused the negative feeling in the pit of your stomach to grow with every hour that passed. And even at the end of the work day, when you were in your own apartment, the feeling still lingered.

Already in a bad mood, you should’ve known better than to turn on a hockey game. But you knew that seeing Mat, even if it was through a T.V. screen, would make you feel better. He always made you feel better.

But he played a careless game.

It wasn’t even that he was playing bad, because honestly, he was playing really well. By the end of the first period he had two assists and handled the puck well. When the second period came around, he had scored his own goal. But Mat being Mat…he let the goal get to his head. The newfound confidence he had led him to be more aggressive with the opposing team’s players and more mouthy with the referees.

And with only six minutes left in the third period––the Islanders trailing by a few points––Mat dropped his gloves and instigated a fairly bad altercation with another player. You turned the television off before you could see Mat skate away to the penalty box.

Around an hour later when Mat walked through your apartment door the two of you stared at each other. You were curled up on the couch with a book, and he stood at the opposite end of the couch in his game day suit. He squinted his discolored left eye, his swollen bottom lip was bruised red, and you saw a few dried spots of blood on his face.

Neither of you were in the best mood, but that still wasn’t an excuse. Maybe you each expected the other to comfort you on your bad days…but that wasn’t the case for either of you now.

“I wish you were more careful,” you whispered up at him. You were still on the couch and he stood stiffly at the opposite end from you, “I don’t get why you have to fight.”

Mat let out an irritated breath out through his nostrils, “Did you even watch the game?”

Stunned by his attitude, you shut your book and rolled your eyes, “Of course I did. But that doesn’t mean––”

“Then you should know why I got in a fight.”

With a scoff, you flung the blanket off you and stood up. You mirrored his stiff position––jaw clenched, arms glued to your sides, and eyes narrowed in at him. The couch being the only barrier between the harsh words you threw at each other.

“That has nothing to do with what I said,” you huffed out, “I said you should be more careful––”

“I heard what you said,” Mat interrupted you with a snap in his tone as he shrugged off his suit jacket, “But I can’t control a fight if it happens.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose, “I watched the game, Mat. I saw that you started it.”

“So it’s my fault?” He didn’t look at you as he rolled his sleeves up to his elbows, “Look, I don’t expect you to understand everything that goes on on the ice––”

“Excuse me?”

Mat rolled his eyes and his already irritable tone of voice sharpened, “Maybe if you cared a little less you wouldn’t be mad.”

His words felt like a punch to your gut. If you cared a little less. The squeeze of your heart was different than what it felt like when he told you he loved you a few months ago. Because instead of a warm tingly feeling that lifted you up, you felt a harsh burn throughout your body that made you want to shrivel up and hide.

Mat was one of the people you cared most about in the world.

But with both of your bad attitudes, like water and oil, your words caused more separation.

Your response was harsh––If I cared a little less, then who would care about you––and it sparked Mat’s short temper. He told you there were other people, people who wouldn’t make a big deal if he got in a fight because it was hockey. The yelling continued, intentional words of hurt shouted between the two of you. And soon enough, with both of you too blinded by rage, neither of you remembered why the argument even started in the first place.

“There are other people,” Mat spat out as he breathed heavily, “People who know me better. If we weren’t together, there would be other people who––”

His cruel words caused complete and utter devastation to flood your body. And you let the anger and agony of Mat’s ill fated words overtake every logical thought in your mind.

“If you don’t need me, then what are you waiting for?!” You threw your hands up as your shrill voice cracked as bad as you felt your soul shatter. Chin wobbling and chest heaving with erratic breaths, you repeated the question. Although this time, your voice was a whisper as the destruction of your words caught up to you, “What are you waiting for?”

Mat ran a hand through his hair, shaking his head as he squeezed his eyes shut. And in a hurry, he scooped up his suit jacket from the couch and turned around. His heavy footsteps echoed through your silent apartment as you followed him to the door.

You choked on your words, “Where are you going?”

With his hand gripping the doorknob, you saw his shoulders tighten as he took a deep breath, “I can’t be with you.”

It felt as if the world froze, but at the same time, everything felt like it went too fast. A whirling sensation of grief caused you to lift your hand to cover your mouth. I can’t be with you.

You felt dizzy, unsure of if you wanted an answer to your question, “Are you…Does that mean just for now?” You bit your bottom lip as you tried your hardest to sniffle back your tears,”Or as in, you don’t want to be with me…anymore?”

Mat’s shoulders expanded in another deep breath as he mustered up the courage to turn around. Part of you wished he didn’t turn around because the heartbreak on his face looked just as bad as you felt. His chin wobbled like yours, lips pressed together in a firm line to keep his emotions to himself. His eyes were bloodshot, wide and scared like a child afraid of thunderstorms. And like yours, his chest heaved with small breaths, failing to keep his breathing under control.

“I don’t…” he shut his eyes tight and rubbed the corners of his eyes with his thumb and index finger, “Just for now.” Although his answer relieved only a sliver of anxiety you felt in the middle of your chest, it looked like he was still going to leave, “I need to leave before either of us say anything else we regret.”

Blinking rapidly, you still felt a few tears roll down your cheek as you nodded your head just as fast. You hugged your arms around your stomach and anxiously tapped your foot, “Will you…Are you coming back?”

A flash of pain crossed his face as he sucked in another deep breath, “Don't wait up for me.”

Before you could process his vague answer, his hand pressed down on the door handle and he was gone before he put his jacket back on. The door closed gently, but you would have rather it slammed shut so you would have that sound echoing in your mind instead of your insecurities.

Still hugging your stomach, you bit the inside of your cheek and slowly made your way back to the couch. As if it took all of your energy, you picked the blanket back up, wrapped it around your shoulders, and tucked yourself into the far corner. You sat alone, cold feet tucked in between the cushions, as you leaned your head back on the couch and let out a sob.

You purposefully said words to hurt him, and he had done the same with you. While the two of you had arguments before, they were never this blown out of proportion. There was never any screaming, there were never any tears, and neither of you had ever left the other’s place without reconciling. But with this fight…There was shouting, tears fell from both of you, and Mat left your place without a promise to come back.

You don’t know how many hours had passed as you stared at the wall ahead of you. But it was enough time for your cries to settle down and for the sound of a key to echo your silent home. And just like earlier in the night, Mat stood at the opposite end of the couch as you sat curled up in a blanket.

As the two of you stared at each other in silence, you learned what it felt like to sit in purgatory; not knowing if Mat was to come back that night or if you were to go days without seeing him. You learned what raw heartache truly felt like without his presence when all you wanted was a hug. And when he moved to sit next to you on the couch––finally receiving a hug from him––you also learned that he was just as sorry as you and didn’t mean any of the words he said.

You never wished to learn what a life without Mat truly felt like.

–––

The nerves you felt were worse than your first date with Mat. They had been with you for months, but they were now at an all time high that caused your hands to shake. And just like the nerves you felt before the blind date, they caused you to be twenty minutes early to the venue.

What if there was traffic? What if the piano player you and Mat hired brought the wrong sheet music? What if there weren’t enough seats? While you were twenty minutes earlier than your scheduled time that was designed to make sure you already arrived early to avoid any mishaps, it was the only way to ease your anxiety.

As you fiddled with the dress you always dreamed of wearing on this day, you inhaled a shaky breath as you stood in the private room alone. You needed space to concentrate on the fact that in less than a few hours you would have a different last name.

“Y/N?”

A light knock on the door and the call of your name caused you to whip your head. Hurriedly, you made your way to the door and leaned your shoulder against it as you made sure it was locked.

You cleared your throat, “Yeah?”

“It’s just me,” you saw the locked door handle jiggle as you heard a soft laugh on the other side, “Mat’s not with me.”

“I don’t trust you.”

You heard another laugh, this one more gentle, as Tito reassured you, “He knows about your superstitions, he wouldn’t try and sneak a glance.”

You thought about turning the best man at your wedding away, but the more you thought about it, the more you trusted him when he said Mat wasn’t with him. Mat knew you had certain superstitions you didn’t mess with; like lifting your feet up when you drove over railroad tracks or how you threw salt over your left shoulder if you spilled it.

He had learned all of those things about you.

The click of the lock coming undone caused you to hold your breath. Slowly, you cracked open the door and peered out the tiny slit with one eye. Tito had his face pressed close to the crack and you saw him close up. He didn’t pry the door like you thought, so hesitantly, you opened the door as you looked both ways to make sure your fiancé was nowhere in sight.

With the door fully open, Tito’s smile was brighter than you’d ever seen it before. He let out a low whistle, “Are you sure you I can’t marry you?”

Tito’s teasing had been a constant in the years of your relationship with Mat, and for better or for worse, it was about to extend into a lifetime.

You shoved his shoulder with your left hand, the engagement ring Mat picked out for you sparkling slightly in the light, “Shut up.”

“But really,” Tito slid both of his hands into the front pockets of his pants as he shook his head in disbelief, “You look beautiful. Mat won’t know what to do.”

“Hopefully he’ll say I do.”

Tito chuckled at your comment and then the two of you stood in silence. But when he slightly bowed his head and awkwardly rocked on his feet, you knew there was a purpose for his visit when he looked up at you.

“There is…Mat…” He took a deep breath, preparing himself for your answer, “He wants to talk with you.” Your eyes bulged out of your head as you immediately stepped back into the private room and went to slam the door shut. But Tito stuck his foot out in time to stop the door from slamming shut, “He’s not here––he’s still out there talking with people, but he heard you got here early early started sweating, and he just wants to hear your voice––”

You shook your head behind the door, “No.”

“C’mon,” Tito pleaded with you, “I’m sure it’ll calm you down to hear him––”

“What if he sees me?” You exasperatedly said, “Even if it was an accident. That would––”

“He won’t,” Tito’s voice held just as much firmness to it as he had confidence in his best friend, “He knows you too well to break your superstition.”

He knows you.

Hearing Mat’s voice would calm you down, but the anxiety of him accidentally seeing you before you walked down the aisle was too much. It was almost too much nervousness for you to handle on your own, so with a deep breath and a silent prayer that this wouldn’t blow up in your face, you whispered to Tito that Mat could talk to you.

Tito had spun around to retrieve Mat before you could finish your sentence. He rushed away from you, afraid you would back out on your word. But just as fast as Tito ran away, you slammed the door shut and relocked it.

You turned around and leaned your back against the door. Pinching the bridge of your nose to relieve some of the stress, you let out a deep breath. With only a few moments to yourself, you did a few breathing exercises before a shallow knock sounded from the other side of the door.

“Uh, Y/N?”

You could pick out his voice from anywhere, and you let out an audible sigh of relief, “Mat?”

He also let out a deep breath, and you could picture his shoulders relaxing at confirmation he didn’t walk up to an empty room. You turned around and placed your hand softly on top of the door handle; resting your forehead on the door you whispered, “I’m so nervous.”

“So am I,” Mat let out an airy laugh, “We’re the ones who decided to marry each other, yet we’re both a mess.”

You replicated his laugh and it went back to silence. You had spent years together with Mat, but no silence had ever been more poignant than this. You could hear his love, almost feel it, but you couldn’t see him. Not yet.

It was his trembling voice that broke through the silence, “Can I hold your hand?”

“Mat––”

“I’ll turn around,” he rushed out, knowing how strongly you felt about this superstition, “You can stay behind the door––just with your arm sticking out––We can both turn around so we make sure we don’t chance anything, because I––” he cut himself off, calming himself down with a single breath, “I really need a hug, but we can’t do that.” He let out another deep breath, “Please?”

You loved him more than anyone else in the world, and in turn, you would do anything for him; including holding his hand.

You couldn’t wipe the smile off your face, and you were positive he could hear it, “Turn around.”

And with a click of the door unlocking, you opened it just a sliver of a bit open and turned around yourself. You stuck your left hand out for him, and in an instant, his hand found yours. You felt tears well up in your eyes out of happiness, because even though you could feel him now you still couldn’t believe you were going to spend the rest of your life with him.

You filled the silent void with your voice and added a futile point to the non-existent conversation. But you wanted him to know this about you, “I showed up to our first date twenty minutes early.”

Mat chuckled as he repeatedly stroked his thumb on top of your engagement ring, “I know.”

You squeezed his hand, “You know?”

Again, Mat let out another soft laugh, “I was thirty minutes early to our first date.” You felt your wide open mouth transform into a smile, “I was across the street and saw you waiting.” He lowered his voice, “I was so scared.”

You were convinced that was maybe the only thing he didn’t know about you, but he proved you wrong. Time and time again he proved himself to know you better than you knew yourself.

“Tell me something I don’t know about you,” you whispered.

“You know me better than anyone else.”

The way he continued to trace around your engagement ring caused your heart to squeeze; it only made you more excited for when there would be a second ring on your finger, “There has to be something.”

You felt your heart pound against your ribcage as a few beats of silence passed over. From his drawn out silence, you knew he had something, you knew he was debating on whether to tell you or not.

“The picture we took together at the first hockey game you came to,” you could hear the shy smile on his face, “I’ve kept it in my locker since then.”

You felt your heart melt and chin wobble; this was something new you were learning about him.

“And I…” He let out a nervous laugh, and ever since the first time heard the sound of it, it was infectious, “I have it with me now in the inner-pocket of my jacket.”

A lone tear trailed down your cheek as you tried to sniffle the rest of the tears you felt behind your eyes away. It was your wedding day, of course you were going to cry, but you didn’t think it would be this soon.

Mat’s hand briefly dropped yours as you heard a crinkle of photo paper being taken out of Mat’s jacket pocket. You felt the corner of a piece of paper hit the palm of your hand a few times. Gently, and without looking down, you took the picture from Mat’s hand. And when you brought the picture up to your face, you squeezed Mat’s hand hard as an audible gasp left your lips.

The two of you looked so young. Which made sense considering the picture was taken a few years ago. You smiled at the memory as if it happened yesterday; you in your #13 Barzal jersey, tilting your head toward Mat as if you were leaning your head on his shoulder if the plexiglass wasn’t there. Hayden had taken a hundred pictures of the two of you, but this was different than the one you kept framed at your office.

You looked the same, but Mat looked different.

He still had his hockey stick in hand, but instead of looking at the camera like you, his head was faced down toward you. His eyes were locked in on your smile, wide in admiration. His closed-lipped smile was bashful, but you could clearly see the happiness radiating off him. That day, while you looked into the camera, still high off excitement from watching him on the ice; he looked down at you with all the love he held for you in his soft eyes.

“I even take it with me on road games.”

Tracing your fingers down the worn down, slightly torn up, and bent edges of the picture, you felt another tear roll down your cheek.

While you wanted nothing more to look at the well loved photograph of the two of you in love before either of you knew it, you didn’t want to cry too much before walking down the aisle. You handed the picture back to him so he had it for safekeeping, and squeezed his hand again.

“I love you so much,” you breathed out.

“I love you, too.”

As the two of you continued to hold hands until Mat was called away in order for you to start the last of your wedding preparations, you learned that Mat cherished the small moments. Whether he wanted to memorize the first time he fell in love with you by carrying around a photograph from early on in your relationship, or how he wanted to hold your hand before the two of you committed to a lifetime together…You learned more about him in those moments than ever before.

And when Mat would eventually slide a ring onto your finger––and you to his––it felt as if the rings held a promise heavier than til death do us part. From the moment you met Mat until now, the most important thing you learned about him was how good of a friend he was to you.

You couldn’t wait to spend the rest of your life as his friend.

[mrsbrookegillespie]

⚝The Girl Next Door⚝ Vampire!Luke x Reader (Series)

(Not My Gif)

Vampire!Luke x Reader (My Babysitter’s a Vampire AU)

Description: Set in Season One (After The Movie) Y/N decides to stay around for a little longer for a unknown reason to the gang. With that comes new problems, more supernaturals, and more uncoverings of the secrets that lay hidden beneath her facade, especially when a new girl enters the town.

Warnings: mentions of death, minor violence, and probably typo. Also cringy My Babysitter’s a Vampire talk. Tried to make it like the show in the way I write.

One more thing... It’s long. Because this is the first one of the series I wanted this one to be long, but the other ones will be shorter, unless it’s a thicker plot.

Enjoy!!!

“Look who decided to stay…”

Y/N freezes for a moment. His chilling voice sent her heart pounding against her ribcage. “Could say the same for you.” She turns on her heels rapidly to face him. “New found freedom and here you are in this same small town, at a school that’s quite boring if I’m being honest.” 

Luke tilts this head. His eyes twitch, widening for a moment. “If it was boring there wouldn’t be witches and vampires roaming around. So, who knows what else is lurking around these corners…” He teasingly smiles at Y/N’s dumbfounded expression. “Am I wrong?” 

“No…” she sighs. 

“You’ve seemed to have caught quite a lot of people’s attention.” He side eyes the group of Freshmen boys gawking at her.    

“It seems I have.” She doesn’t bother looking away from Luke. “Luke.” His now yellow eyes fixate on hers. “I hope our previous encounters don’t get to your head.”

“I wish I knew what you were talking about, so please enlighten me.” He crosses his arms, subconsciously leaning towards her. 

“I mean… With me saving you.” 

“You didn’t save me,” he argues. 

A sarcastic laugh interrupts the confrontation between them. “Oh, is that right?” Sarah appears at Y/N’s side. “Because I think if she wasn’t there to rescue you, there would be a wooden stake in your chest right now.” She mimics Luke’s stance, Y/N awkwardly standing there witnessing this endeavorment.

Luke laughs, dryly. “Is that what you think? Well, I think if a pathetic girl--” 

“Right here,” Y/N mumbles.

“--could take you on, I could’ve survived your weak throw.” 

Sarah sucks on her two front teeth. “Come on Y/N, let’s get out of here.” She grabs ahold of Y/N’s arm tugging her away from the boy.

“Little strange that you’re buddying up with the girl who nearly killed you,” he shouts.

Weirded out glances are shot towards him. 

“You just had to save him?” Sarah asks.

“What? Would you rather me save Jesse?” Y/N responds, raising an eyebrow.

“Or how about no one?” 

Y/N huffs. “Think he’s going to be a problem?” She looks back at where Luke and her just were, only to find he’s disappeared. 

“The biggest,” Sarah answers.

“Yeah… Me too.” 

“Hey guys,” Ethan says, walking up to the pair. “What’s up?” 

“Just another lovely conversation with Luke,” Sarah explains. “Would still really love a reason from Ms. Magic over here.” 

Y/N puts her freehand up to mock surrender. “Don’t look at me,” she pauses. “Just doing my job,” she whispers to the point where no one else hears her. “Seen my cousin anywhere?” 

Ethan shakes his head, but it goes distracted when something catches his attention. “Found him.” 

They all turn to see Benny sweet talking to an unfamiliar girl. “Makes sense,” Y/N comments. “Who is that?” Her eyes narrow.

“No clue, never seen her around before,” Ethan informs. 

“She’s pretty.” 

They all jump, startled by Rory’s sudden appearance. “Where did you come from?” Y/N asks, harshly.

“Sorry, not as pretty as you Y/N,” Rory rushes, winking at her. 

She rolls her eyes. Benny and the new girl stopping in front of them. “Guys I want you to meet Clarissa, she’s new, and she actually just moved in next door to us,” he remarks. 

“Hello, Clarissa, I’m Sarah.” 

“Ethan.” 

“Rory.” 

Y/N stares at the girl for a moment. Something didn’t fit right in Y/N’s stomach when staring into her pure green eyes. They were almost too green. “I’m Y/N.” She bounces on the balls of her feet. “Benny’s cousin,” she adds.

Clarissa grabs Y/N’s hand without warning. “I’ve heard so much about you!”

“You have?” Y/N chokes out a laugh. “All good things, I hope.” She grew heavily uncomfortable when Clarissa stared intensely at the purple gem that was snug in the center of Y/N’s ring. 

Y/N pulls her hand away hastily, wiping it on her jeans. “Of course.” Clarissa’s sickly sweet smile almost gave her a headache. 

“Benny,” she grits through her teeth. “Can I speak with you?” 

Benny looks at her, confused. “What’s up?” 

Y/N clears her throat. “Alone.” 

With no verbal response she drags Benny to a corner where the rest of the group stared at the two. “What’s wrong? Is it Clarissa? Look, I know she’s coming off a little eager but--” 

“That’s all you’re getting from her?” Y/N exasperates. “Don’t you see her eyes they’re pure green, I think they’re magical contacts--”

“Magical--what?!” 

She gestures to where Clarissa was picking at Sarah’s hair. “And she’s wearing a headwrap-thing! And--” She aggressively points at her ring, “--she was analyzing it. I think she knows who I am, and people knowing what I am equals trouble.” 

Benny stares at his cousin like he’s witnessing a crazy person. “Okay, someone’s been overworking her powers a little too much.” He grabs hold of her shoulders. “Clarissa is just a lonely new girl, who just happens to now live right next door to us. And maybe she likes jewelry, and green is good. Nice color. And… You do know there is something called culture, right?” 

Y/N groans. “You’re not getting my point, I think she’s--”

The warning bell rings, cutting her off. “Gotta get to class, maybe you should go home--”

“But--”

“Get some rest.” Benny runs off, catching up with Clarissa.

“Okay, what’s got you all down?” Sarah asks, following the invisible lines Y/N’s making with her eyes, landing on Clarissa. 

“Something is not--”

“I had a vision,” Ethan blurts. “When I shook Clarissa’s hand.” 

“I knew it!” Y/N exclaims. “Snakes on her head, am I right?” 

Ethan shudders. “H-How did you know?” 

“Medusa, I can sense descendants wherever I go,” Y/N admits. “It’s my seventh sense.” 

“You mean sixth sense,” Sarah corrects.

“No, I mean seventh sense.” Ethan and Sarah furrow their eyebrows. “Hard to explain. We need to warn Benny, but I think she already put her spell on him.” 

“Spell?” Ethan questions. “What spell?” 

The second bell rings. “Let’s talk later, during lunch!” Y/N jogs away rounding a corner.

“The thing is…” 

“Ah!” Y/N screams when Clarissa slithers in front of her. “You…” She points an accusing finger at her. “Stay… Away.” Y/N makes a mental note of how her contacts were replaced with a dark pair of sunglasses. 

“You have something I need. You think I want to be this way, snakes for beautiful long hair, turning people into stone. Do you know how lonely it is? I turned my best friend into stone, no way to reverse her back.” Clarissa takes a step closer to Y/N.

“Well, there is, it’s just--AH!” Y/N falls back onto the floor when Clarissa pushes her. “A little more complicated because of…” Her voice fades off.

Clarissa’s eyes didn’t dare to look away from Y/N’s ring. “Because I don’t have that.” 

“So, you want my ring?” Y/N scoffs. “Well, you can’t have it. I’m not giving it to you.” 

Clarissa chuckles. “Like you have a choice.” 

“No, no, no, please don’t do this…. AH!” Y/N had no time to react before Clarissa’s headwrap fell, and she ripped her sunglasses off. 

Grandma gasps, placing a hand on her heart. Not wasting any time she rustles off of the couch, getting to work.

RING! 

“Where’s Y/N? She was supposed to tell us--” 

“Tell you what?” Benny asks, cutting off Ethan. ‘

“That--Clarissa!” Ethan fakes a smile when she comes into view. “Tell us--” 

“Tell us about her upcoming date,” Sarah finishes, nonchalantly. 

“Date?” Luke stomps up to them. “Y/N? On a date? With who?”

“With…” Sarah’s eyes search the area. “Rory!” 

The blonde boy stops, surprised. “What about me?” he asks.

“Your date with Y/N?” Ethan strains his voice, hoping Rory will be smart enough to follow along. 

Rory frowns. “Date…?” Ethan and Sarah nod, pointedly. “Date! Yes! Date. Date with Y/N. I am going on a date with Y/N.” Rory stills. “Wait, I’m going on a date with Y/N?! Sweet!” 

Luke’s jaw drops. “There must be a mistake,” he laughs. “She would never choose an idiot like you.” 

“And who would she choose… You?” Sarah ridicules.

Luke’s eyes flash yellow. “Well, thanks for the compliment. You don’t think I’m an idiot,” he replies. “Where is she?” He changes the topic.

“I-I think I saw her go home,” Clarissa chimes in.

Ethan and Sarah both avert their eyes to the girl. “You did?” Sarah glances at Ethan who undoubtedly thinks the same thing. 

“Yep!” Clarissa innocently smiles. “Why would I lie?” 

“Yeah, why would she lie?” Benny, oblivious of the situation, puts on the same smile Clarissa is sporting. “She’s new.” 

“Which means we know nothing about her,” Luke snarls. 

“Luke’s right!” Ethan confirms. 

“Is he?” Sarah’s voice goes a little higher, but on the inside she 100% agreed. 

“I’m going to go check on her,” Luke announces. 

“Why are you acting like you care about her?” Sarah snickers. “I’m coming with you.” 

“Sarah,” Ethan hisses, grabbing her wrist. Gasping when he makes contact. “I had a vision,” he confesses, letting go of her. “It’s urgent.” 

Sarah quickly glances at everyone before landing on Luke. “Just let us know if she’s there.” 

“Or how about you guys check after school?” Clarissa suggests. “And then if she’s not we can all help look for her--if missing of course. You don’t really want to miss school, do you?” 

Luke bursts into laughter. “You really are new.” And just like that he’s gone. 

“Woah, where’d he go?” Clarissa scans the room. “What are you people? First we have witches, and wizards and now--” 

“Wait, how do you know that?” Ethan interrogates.

“Guys! Chill out, I filled her in on Y/N and I being ‘magical’.” Benny does the quotations. “And how Y/N was a little freaked out by her, but it’s all good.” 

“You told her what?!” Sarah feels her anger rise within her. 

Luke opens the window of Y/N’s room, entering it. “Hello?” he calls out. “Y/N?” 

The door swings open, exposing Grandma on the other side. “Thank God, you’re here.” She runs to grab his arm. “She doesn’t have much time.” 

“What’s going on?” 

She takes him to the basement where Y/N sat on the table, completely made of stone. “She appeared right here, like this, not too long ago, but long enough where we’re getting close to the effects being permanent.” 

“What happened?” Luke walks up to Y/N.

“Medusa, or descendants. Has there been any odd behavior around the school? Or perhaps a new face?”  

Luke perks up. “Yes, there’s a new girl. A little weird, and--” 

“Tell me everything you know, and while you’re doing that, mix this up for me.” She hands him a bowl. “Hurry!” 

Sarah and Ethan continue to sit where they’ve been sitting for the last ten minutes. “How are we going to fix this?” Ethan asks.

Sarah scrunches her face when she realizes Ethan was actually asking for an answer from her. “Don’t ask me, this is not my area of expertise.” 

“If we don’t figure it out soon, you’ll turn to stone.” 

“I’m a vampire, Ethan, I don’t think that’s even possible.” 

“Well, you’re not a full vampire, maybe it’s different,” he disputes. “Look, I know what I saw, and I saw you turn to stone.” 

“So, what do we do?” 

Ethan stops again to think. “We… We need to use her own power against her,” he concludes. “But, we need Benny’s help.”

“Y/N said he’s under her spell, how are we going to take him out of it?” Sarah voices her concerns. “This would be so much easier if Y/N was here. Where is Luke? I knew we couldn’t trust him.” 

“Forget him, we have to figure it out on our own.” 

“I’m just--I’m worried. Y/N hasn’t just vanished like this before.” 

Ethan chuckles. “You obviously haven’t known her for as long as I have.” 

“What do you mean?” 

Ethan inhales through his nose. “We were all best friends when we were kids, it was always me, Y/N, and Benny versus the world. We thought she was crazy when she spoke about her being a witch, and having magical powers. But, she was still our best friend.” He frowns. “Then she left, and never came back. We never got an explanation as to why. She was seven and we were five… And, yet, we remember those days like they were yesterday, and then of course she randomly pops up out of nowhere ten years later. Knowing all of this stuff about me, vampires, magic, it just doesn’t make any sense.” 

“Well, she’s back now, you can get answers. Trust me, I’m just as curious as you for some things when it comes to her…” 

“Have you guys seen Clarissa?” Benny asks. “I haven’t been able to find her.” 

“What?” Ethan stands up. “She’s gone?” He looks at Sarah in alarm. “Benny, okay, I need you to understand this… Clarissa is Medusa, or descendant, or the same species..” 

Benny doesn’t move at first. “Funny, but seriously can you guys help me?” 

The lights flicker. “That’s not good,” Sarah thinks out loud. 

“Benny we’re telling you the truth, I had a vision, and Y/N she--” 

“She put you up to this. She was acting weird earlier. Where is she by the way?” 

“You won’t be seeing a lot from her anymore,” Clarissa’s voice echoes through the halls. 

“Is it just me… Or are we the only ones in the school right now?” Benny searches for any signs of life around them. 

“That’s your question?!” Sarah hisses. “Didn’t you hear what she said about Y/N?” 

“She’s probably just trying to scare us,” Ethan excuses. “We can’t make assumptions.” 

“That’s what I’m trying to tell you guys, we don’t know if Clarissa is--Oh my God!” Benny makes direct contact with the lockers' reflection of Clarissa, snakes floating around her head. “Run!” 

Clarissa apparates in front of them. “Don’t look her in the eyes,” Ethan advises.

“No duh, Ethan!” Benny shouts. 

The locker doors slam open around them. “How is she doing this?” Sarah covers her eyes.

“I’m guessing Y/N’s ring,” Benny guesses. 

“How do we stop her if we can’t see her?” 

“Maybe I can help,” another voice declares. 

“Y/N?!” Sarah calls out. “Where have you been?” 

“I was stuck in a… Situation. But, Luke helped me.” Y/N smiles at Luke. 

“Bring it, now!” Grandma orders. Luke hands it to her. “Stand back.”

“What do you need me to do?” Luke asks, taking a step away from Y/N and Grandma. 

Grandma meets his concerned eyes. “Be there for her when she comes back… It won’t be pretty.” She holds up the potion pouring it all around Y/N’s body. “Here we go.” She internally prayed this would work, especially with Luke watching. She begins to mumble some words incoherently, a bright light coming from her hands. 

“It’s working,” Luke blurts in relief, when the grey stone starts to break off exposing skin. 

“AH!” Y/N screams when most of her upper body is free. She notices the way her hands were still stone, panic rising. 

Luke doesn’t hesitate his arms around her neck, settling her head in the crook of his neck. “You’re okay, it’s okay, you’re alright,” he assures, softly into her ear. Y/N can feel her fingers break free, gripping onto his shirt. “Shhh…” He runs his fingers through her hair. 

Grandma weakly smiles, slowly backing away from them, to leave them alone.

“What are you doing here?” Y/N asks when her cries settle down.

He pulls away, wiping the last fallen tears from her cheeks. “You went missing, and the rest were worried. I took it upon myself to… Find you. I also heard you were going on a date with Rory and I--” 

“Wait! So, Clarissa is at the school with my friends… ALONE?!” 

Y/N’s expression turns stern. “Now Clarissa, how about you do us all a favor and give me my ring back.” She moves close to Luke. “Take the rest, and hide.” 

“What? No. I’m not gonna protect some losers, and that would include me touching them…”  

Y/N takes a deep breath, breaking her stance to hold the bridge of her nose. “Luke, I swear to God I will go back in time and stab you in the heart myself if I have to if you don’t listen to me.” It goes silent. Yes, even Clarissa didn’t move a muscle. “Got it?”

Luke simply nods. 

“Back to business now.” 

“Magical contacts,” Clarissa states more than questions. “Smart.” 

Y/N shrugs carelessly with a smirk. “Learn from the best.” In less than a minute it was just her and Clarissa alone in one of the many creepy hallways of the school. “Now my ring.” She holds out her hand. “It’s not going to give you what you want.” 

“And how do you know exactly what I want?” Clarissa snaps. 

“It’s dangerous for someone not trained to use it, I don’t want to hurt you.” 

Clarissa scoffs. “How are you going to do anything without this?” She points to the ring that rightfully belongs to Y/N. “You’re nothing without it.” 

Those words rang in Y/N’s mind. “That’s not true.” 

“Oh, but I think it is.” With a wave of Clarissa’s hand, Y/N goes flying back. “And with this ring I’m everything.”

Y/N winces as she stands. “You’re just going to hurt yourself.”

“Not a chance.” Another lifeless throw of Clarissa’s fingers Y/N falls to the floor. “See? Can’t even dodge a simple spell. You’re useless, and pathetic. It’s a miracle you can even call yourself a witch.” 

“See?” Y/N mocks Clarissa’s tone. “That’s where you’re wrong.” She stands up, strong. “I’m no witch.” She closes her eyes, the adrenaline coursing through her veins, a certain friction being felt at her fingertips. She elegantly moves as though she is a flower in the wind, building up a bundle of energy at the palm of her hands. 

“I could’ve said that,” Clarissa laughs. “You know, I never thought someone like you could befriend so many vampires.” Y/N bites her lip to keep from distracting herself away from the task. “Who was that one… The one you arrived with. Seems quite special to you. With this ring, vampires will never be immune to my power, nor will any other supernatural when I learn how to get past your little spells. I will make you feel the pain I felt… Starting with that boy.” 

When Y/N opens her eyes it sends a shock wave towards Clarissa. What used to be her dark brown eyes are now a violent shade of purple. “Oh… There is no spell,” Y/N’s voice comes out more deep and demonic. “This--” She gestures to herself, “--is all me.”

“Uhhh…” Clarissa stumbles back.

“Told you I’m no witch.” Y/N creeps up to her. “And I’d watch what you say very carefully.” 

“It’s not poss--” 

Y/N raises up her hand, Clarissa following as she leviates in the air. The lockers that were open around them began to crumple. “Oops… I meant that to be you.” 

“AH!”

Sarah, Benny, Ethan, and Luke become startled by the sound of screaming. “What was that?” Sarah asks, slightly scared.

“Was that Y/N?” Benny starts to stroll towards the school. “We need to help her!” 

Luke harshly grabs his shoulder. “If we’re going to go in there we’ll need these.” He presents the clear contacts to the group. “They’ll block out her magic.” Luke’s thoughts drift off to earlier. 

“What do you need me to do?” Luke asks, taking a step away from Y/N and Grandma. 

Grandma meets his concerned eyes. “Be there for her when she comes back… It won’t be pretty.”

“Let’s go,” Sarah says. “Luke?!” 

Grandma takes his wrist before he follows Y/N out of the house. “Be there for her.” 

“What?” 

“Be there for her when she comes back from the fight,” Grandma guides, vaguely. “She can’t control it.” 

“Control what?” 

“Her emotions… Her powers… Her alter ego,” she explains. “The night she saved you, the night she almost killed Sarah, who do you think that was?”

Luke shakes the odd feeling off. Running after the rest. 

“Please, help me!” Clarissa pleads. 

“Who would ever help you? You’re a monster. You kill people with no remorse. What makes you more worth saving than anyone you’ve murdered?!” Y/N grabs a hold of the girl's wrist. “This belongs…” She plucks the ring off of her with magic. “To me.” Carefully sliding it down her own finger without touching it once. Y/N moves her grip to both Clarissa’s shoulders. “How about I show you the pain you caused?” Her eyes grow brighter as she clearfully shouts sinful spells at Clarissa. The snakes that make up her hair cower in fear as her body becomes more and more weak in Y/N’s hands.

“Y/N!” Ethan yelps. “What are you doing?” 

“Dealing with the enemy,” she answers.

Clarissa allows the tears to fall from her eyes. “Don’t do this! I’m sorry.” Y/N ignores the girl’s cries, and wails. 

“Y/N, you need to stop this.” Luke tries to get her attention. 

Y/N lets out a dark chuckle. “That’s what they tell her, right? To stop this side of her, to hide, well not anymore, not while I’m around will allow her to bury me once more in her pureness,” she pauses. “They will all. Feel. My. WRATH!” 

With a blinding flash of light everything went quiet. 

Everyone opens their eyes to find Y/N lying limp on the ground. “Y/N!” Her friends rush to her aid, huddling around her.

“Wake up.” Luke cups her face, patting her cheek gently. “Wake up, wake up, wake up,” he repeats.

Y/N gasps, her eyes fluttering open. “Guys? Wh-What happened?” 

“You don’t remember?” Ethan asks.

Y/N shakes her head. “No, I just remember Clarissa and--” She cuts herself off, looking around. “Where’s Clarissa?” 

They hear a squeak behind them. 

They turn their heads, Y/N lifting hers to see the damage she caused. “Oh my God!” she shrills when she sees a small snake on the floor. “What have I done?” She scrambles away from the group, going over to what she believed was Clarissa. “I have to fix this.” She picks up the snake.

“Y/N--” 

“Please,” she sobs. “I’ll fix this. I promise I will.” She sets the snake down, taking a deep breath. “I can fix this,” she tells herself. Her arms lift up gracefully, as she moves them around, almost like a dance. A soft breeze brushes everyone coming around to where Y/N sat. “Mmm… Mmm…” She hums a melody. “Water, Earth… Fire, and Ice, I bring thee together to create a new light,” she sings angelically. “Water, Earth… Fire and Ice reverse what I’ve done… Take in the curse and disperse it with love. Reverse the curse and I’ll pay back for what I’ve done…” A warm light glows from Y/N’s hands illuminating the snake that transforms back into the shape of a human. 

Clarissa opens her eyes, sitting up. A trail of long, golden blonde hair follows. “You did it.” She smiles. “You broke the curse.” She wraps her arms tightly around Y/N. “Thank you.” 

Y/N hugs the girl back.

Hiss! 

They pull away from each other. “Oh! I think you have…” Y/N points at the top of her head.

Clarissa reaches up to grab the small snake. “I guess someone had a curse to be broken too.” Her eyes meet Y/N’s. “Thank you, once again.” She giggles. “Sorry I stole your ring, and turned you to stone” 

“What?!” Ethan, Benny, and Sarah exclaims.

“Old news,” Luke mutters. 

“And sorry Benny about the spell I put on you.” 

Benny blinks a few times. “A spell?!” 

“I owe you my life,” Clarissa says.

Y/N waves it off. “You don’t owe us anything. You’re free now, so be free.” 

Clarissa, and Y/N stand up. “Then I must go… Find my parents.” 

Y/N’s eyes light up. “I might have something for that.” Y/N looks around, twirling her finger around to make--

“A compass?” Clarissa questions.

“This is an enchanted compass, think about what you’re trying to find and it’ll take you right to them,” Y/N explains, handing it to her. 

“I was wrong about you,” Clarissa starts. “I thought the ring made you who you are, but… It turns out it’s your heart that makes you everything…” She vanishes.

“Wh-where’d she go?” Ethan looks at Y/N confused.

“To where her parents are.” Y/N smiles. 

The sun shines through the windows, the bells of the school ringing as people walk out of the classrooms. “Where were you guys?” Rory asks. “You missed fifth period.” 

Everyone glimpse at each other’s reactions. “Magic is seriously weird,” Sarah comments. 

“You tell me,” Ethan agrees.

“I already knew,” Y/N admits. 

“When will I get one of those rings?” Benny questions. “I mean… I am a warlock too, and yet why can’t I do all the cool stuff you can do?” 

Y/N laughs. “I don’t know if I would call it cool, but…” She looks at Luke who hasn’t been able to look away from her since she woke up. 

“Are you okay?” 

Y/N is taken aback by his question. “I will be,” she answers, truthfully. “Thanks for being there for me.” 

“Why are they looking at each other like that, when Y/N and I are supposed to be going out on a date?” Rory thinks out loud.

Hearing only the last part of it Y/N looks at him in alarm. “What did I hear about me going out on a date with you?” She gapes at Sarah and Ethan who appear guilty.

“Was that Erica?” Sarah dramatically points the opposite way of them. “I was wondering where that girl was… Gotta go!” 

Ethan stands there awkwardly, as Sarah runs away. “Did Sarah just call for me to come with? I think she did, buh-bye!” 

And so there were three. “So? When is that da--” 

Rory gets cut off by Luke hissing at him. “It’s a no from her loverboy,” Luke bickers. “Leave it.” 

Rory pouts, but genuinely frightened by Luke, paces away. “It’s been a long day, I think I’m gonna go home.” Y/N runs a hand through her hair. “See you later, ‘kay?” She walks off.

Benny was left confused when the direction of her words was towards Luke and not him.

Taglist (Comment If You Want To Be Add, be specific if you just want to be added for this series or Luke Patterson in general):

@lovesanimals @charliegillespiewife @wanniiieeee

[shinescape]

Hawk Eyes

Bodyguard Seonghwa x Reader

Requested!

note: i might have went overboard with this one (jk). Thank you for the request anon and enjoy the read!

At this point, you thought that the stares and murmurs would die down but apparently not so. The other students really made it obvious that they were whispering about you or more like the person following behind you.

It was ridiculous but your father being the protective person he was assigned you a personal bodyguard. You honestly didn’t want it but the Park Family has a history of working with your family and Seonghwa was no exception.

He took his job quite seriously since he was trained at a very young age. Both of you went to the same school and even then he would make sure that no one bullied or pulled pranks on you.

One time you walked into the classroom and a bucket of flour poured onto you had him furious. He was still in training back then but somehow he already ingrained in his head that he needed to protect you at all cost.

You were currently walking in the busy hallways to your morning class. The crowd always made you feel anxious and uncomfortable but knowing that Seonghwa was right behind put you at ease.

A group of boys were goofing around as they approached you and one of them accidently pushed you to the lockers with his body.

Instead of hitting the lockers, the side of your head was cushioned by a palm. Thanks to Seonghwa’s fast reflexes and close proximity, your head was saved but the group of boys wasn’t.

Seonghwa stood in front of the group and glared at them, he knew they were trying to act like nothing happened when the guy who pushed you knew exactly what he did was on purpose. He was taller and looked way too intimidating for them to leave without at least a bruise.

But you stepped in and said, “He’s in a bad mood. It’s best that you leave or he’ll slam your head next.” You smiled at them and that was enough to make them turn back from where they came from and ran away.

“You should have made them apologise.”

“Nah, it’s not like I’m going to see them again anyway.”

You still find it bothersome how your father made Seonghwa follow you to college every single day, like a shadow. Before, he would wear those black formal suits and would sit in every class you had which was seriously uncomfortable.

People were wondering if your family was dealing with some kind of underground business and thus making you friendless up till now.

After having to negotiate with your father almost ten times, he agreed that Seonghwa was to only wait outside of every class and wear normal clothes like any young adult his age.

Your assigned bodyguard was surprised when he knew about the new arrangement and you can’t believe he reacted as if you’ve abandoned him when it’s not. It took him some time to get used to it and would accidentally follow you inside the lecture hall like he was now.

You turned on your heels and lightly pushed him out of the door. “Hwa, please go and eat breakfast or waste time at the mall while I finish. It’s four hours of class.” You said tiredly, this was not the first time and he would answer the same thing again and again.

“I’ll wait out here. Text me if you need anything.” He gave you a professional smile that you wished he would not since it felt so weird when you know each other for so long. But being in this line of job, he had to do it and he insisted on it.

You grumbled knowing that he’ll stand right outside and do nothing but glare at anyone that passed by. He wasn’t paranoid, more like protective after how many incidents you got involved back in school.

Four hours passed by and everyone including you were sluggish as hell. Your back aching, arms sore and tired from all the note taking you did.

The moment you stepped outside, Seonghwa was there looking exactly how he did earlier. A smile on his face as he stepped near you. “Ready to go home?” He asked, pushing himself off the wall he was leaning on.

“Don’t you get tired waiting out here?”

He shook his head and before he could reply, you answered for him. “You were trained for this, I get it. Let’s go grab lunch, I’m hungry.” Seonghwa nodded and followed behind you like he always does.

“Seonghwa, you can walk beside me, there’s no one besides us.” You slightly turned around and grabbed his wrist and forced him to walk beside you.

He nibbled on his lower lip as he tried to remain his composure, eyes once in a while went down to his wrist that had your fingers wrapped around it. This is fine. I’m not crossing any lines, he reminded in his head.

Seonghwa was busy checking his schedule, your schedule to be exact when he heard the heavy doors across from him being pushed open. Your classmates swarmed out and he scanned everyone in search of your figure. His brows furrowed when he didn’t see you coming out.

He made his way through the crowd and went inside the hall, where you were seen talking with someone at the front row seats. He let out an exasperated sigh and made his way towards you. His sharp eyes watched how you and this person he doesn’t know talking so casually, unaware that everyone had left the room.

Seonghwa made sure his presence was known as he stood close to your side, the guy you were with immediately noticed him. He tapped your arm and motioned for you to look behind. There stood your bodyguard with a straight face on, glaring right at the stranger.

“Oh you’re here. I have a project to discuss with him so we'll probably head to the library then have dinner if we get to finish things early. You can go back first.” You know so well he’s not going to leave you with this person until late at night. But it was worth the try.

Seonghwa on the other hand felt irritated the moment you mentioned the guy’s name and how you had a plan up till dinner. It was unscheduled and he didn’t like one bit about it.

“I’ll inform your father what you told me. Also, I’m staying with you until you finish.” He said and for the first time ever, he left you first to wait outside. That caught you off guard but you tried not to think about it too much.

Your bodyguard who was seated a table away watched every single action of yours and your project partner. He noticed how you would cover your mouth when you laugh at a joke the male made or how you keep on adjusting your outfit when talking.

You almost never behaved that way around him and suddenly showing this side to someone that’s not him, irked him. He then realised how he hated what he was seeing and felt something he never felt before.

He felt possessive of you. After spending time together for so long and being the only friend and shoulder to lean on, he had developed a new feeling towards you. It was probably not new at all, just hidden deep down in his heart finally bursting out due to this new stranger.

His fingers curled into fists when your partner casually patted your head after you managed to complete a question. He’s being way too touchy and why do I feel like interrupting them and causing a ruckus? Seonghwa quietly shook the thought away and continued on watching the both of you.

The ride back home was awfully quieter than usual and it made you uneasy. You stole glances at Seonghwa who drove in silence and never uttered a single word at you.

When the both of you arrived back home, he usually bothered himself to open the front doors for you but instead shut the door right in your face.

Something was totally not right and you hate to admit but an upset Seonghwa was a hard one to deal with. “He’s probably tired. We have been out since morning.” You tried to assure yourself and went inside and spotted him on the second floor.

You ran up the stairs, catching up with his retreating figure that did not turn once at all to look at you. He clearly heard the door opening and you running up the stairs but he ignored it.

“Is everything okay, Hwa?” You manage to grab his wrist and try to peer at his face when he jerks his hand away harshly from you.

“No, I’m upset. Go to your room, it’s late.” He curtly said and left you in the hallway alone.

Inside the room, Seonghwa threw himself on the bed and covered his face with the back of his hand. He wanted to beat himself so bad for being so harsh to you. I should have said everything was fine like always, not making things worse like this. He grumbled to himself as more thoughts flooded his head.

He never felt this troubled before but when he finally came to sense that he wanted you all to himself, everything jumbled up. Before, it felt like nothing more than protecting his employer’s child but not anymore.

After a while, you were done with your night routine and was already in bed but your mind was still awake. Thinking of Seonghwa and what he said earlier. “No, I’m upset.”

You kicked the covers away and made a bee-line to your bodyguard’s room as quiet as possible. Making sure no one was near the staircase, you ran towards the other side of the hallway towards his bedroom.

You knocked a couple of times and even twisted the knob but it was locked. Praying hard that you won’t wake anyone up, you knocked even harder and finally heard a sound coming from inside.

Seonghwa unlocked the door and thought it was one of the maids and got annoyed. “What is it?” He voiced with a frown until he saw you standing in front of him, staring and mouth slightly agape.

The both of you then heard voices coming from the corner and without thinking he pulled you inside and trapped you behind the door.

“What are you doing here?”

“I just wanted to-” You words were cut off when another set of knocks came and he knew who it was.

“Young man, do you have anything to wash?”

“No, I don’t. Goodnight.” Seonghwa was about to shut the door when the lady stopped with her hand. “You sure, I changed the sheets two weeks ago. Also why are you not letting me in?” She pushed the door harder and it made you yelp and hit him from the impact.

“What was that?” She asked. “It’s just my stomach. I’m not feeling well.” His other hand wrapped around the back of your head making sure you don’t move again. The action made you still as you took in the fact that he was really close to you.

Seonghwa finally closed the door and let out a sigh. He then tipped your chin up to make you look him in the eyes. “Why are you not wearing a shirt?” Was the first thing that came out of your mouth.

“Uh, it’s my room?” He answered back.

“But, you’re living in my house.” You raised a brow at him.

“Should I make it my house too then?” He taunted back.

“What?!”

You couldn’t help but shout in surprise at the words he just said. You thought he was joking but when he stepped back and went to sit at the edge of his bed, messing up his hair. You knew this was more than that.

“I like you...no I love you. I don’t even know myself.” He stopped for a moment. “But what I know is that I hate seeing you getting shy with that project partner of yours.” He expressed which sound more like he was murmuring to himself rather than to you.

You furrowed your brows and can’t help but like the fact that he was bothered by something like that. Seeing him all frustrated with nothing but a pair of sweatpants was sure a sight.

But shortly after, it made you question yourself as well. You walked closer and stood directly in front of him and he looked up at the mention of his name.

Your palms found their way to his bare shoulders, resting there as you closed your eyes and went down to kiss him. Seonghwa was caught off guard by your sudden move and took your face in his hand, ripping it away from him.

“We shouldn’t do this.” He sounded genuinely worried.

“I just wanted to confirm my feelings. I’m sorry for suddenly kissing you like that.” You were about to move away when he pulled you back to your initial spot. He made you sit on his lap, legs wrapped around him.

You were confused by his sudden actions when just a minute ago he had pushed you away, reminding you that it wasn’t right to do what you both did.

“Did you feel anything after stealing a kiss from me?” His tone low as his alluring eyes met yours. You gulped at the sudden change in demeanor.

Not knowing what to say or react, you let him have his way with you. His fingers tapped its way on your neck before holding your jaw in place. He liked how it fits nicely in his hands as he pulled your face closer to his.

“You should answer when I ask.”

You didn’t know what took over you as you slowly thread your fingers in his hair and crushed your lips with his. He let out a moan and deepened the kiss, hands now gripping the side of your frame. You were starting to get out of breath, never would have imagined kissing him like this would be so addicting.

You peck his lips once more before pulling away, eyes half lidded as you look at him. His face flushed and the way he was breathing through his lips wasn’t helping at all.

“That answers everything, don’t you think?” You breathed out, hands resting on his broad shoulders again.

Seonghwa then unwrapped your legs around him, pushing you down on the bed before doing the same. He gazed at your features as a finger swiped the bottom of your lips.

“You better tell that guy to not get too touchy or I can’t guarantee his life.”

His pupils were round and innocent now despite looking like it could suck you in whole earlier. You scoffed at his words and played with his fringe that was covering his eyes. “Forget about him. What are we going to do next?” you asked, eyes roaming his beautiful face.

Seonghwa smirked and that's when you know he interpreted your words differently. “I’m going to do whatever I want and make sure you can’t attend class tomorrow.” You sighed at him and lightly punched his chest.

“I meant about my father, your job as my bodyguard. I don’t think he’s going to take this nicely.” You informed him, already knowing the fate of your relationship after this.

“I’ll take care of that. What you need to worry about is what’s going to happen right now.” Seonghwa's eyes were clearly filled with lust as his hand went under your shirt and watched how you tried to hold back from his cold touch.

You were starting to feel ways you could never imagine and he doesn’t plan on stopping anytime soon. It will be a long night and surely there’s no turning back on this.

A sneaking attempt, an unexpected confession and a stolen kiss had led you to this.

Nothing else matters as for now, just you and your life time bodyguard, Park Seonghwa.

[water-hates-learning]

Heck it, here’s the sketches for my Crowned Kings AU boys. These are a few months old but eehhhh, whatever, I haven’t made cleaner references for them.

Crowned Kings is an AU where the four boys banded together and took over the world. They’re all mean, they’re all nasty, they’re all horrible assholes. They will shoot anyone who crosses them. But at least they’re trying to make the world a better place. They really are. They’ve abolished capitalism, taken down the 1%, are dismantling nuclear power plants and working on reducing the impact humans have on the environment, and making sure things are equal and livable for everyone. But they are really horrible people when you get down to it.

A LOT more information about them individually under the cut. Feel free to ask me questions if you wanna! Always love blabbing about my AUs

Green Leader Edd Unanimously agreed upon as the overall leader; he breaks up arguments amongst his friends and has the final say in most decisions they make (usually they vote but Edd tends to be the tie breaker, of sorts). He’s also in charge of propaganda and the media coverage, designing posters and ads to draw in more followers to their cause. He also seems to have put himself in charge of keeping up morale. He’ll make announcements over the PA system filled with puns, plan entertainment like movie nights, parties, and war games, and sometimes pull ridiculous stunts on his friends. But don’t let his joking nature fool you—there’s a cruelty to his humor that comes out if you’ve gotten on his bad side. And he’s got a very short and very nasty temper. Edd’s got tattoos he designed himself that are personal to him and him alone. The stacked diamonds on his spine is in celebration of the first time he and his friends took over a territory, the knot of colors on his left wrist signifies the friendship and camaraderie he shares with them and really shows how much he cares about them, and he has one on his left shoulder in memory of Ringo. In her honor, he also adopts and rescues stay cats and they can often be found laying about his part of the base. As the overall leader, he gets involved in every aspect of their army. He inspects weapon, troops, looks over battle plans, approves missions, basically has his fingers in all the pies. This might seem like a lot but Edd would rather be kept busy than be bored. Besides, he likes spooking the troops by getting in his full military garb, picking up his whip, and cracking it in the air in front of them. And, yeah, he does use that whip on those who cross him. (He also has friendly competitions with Eduardo. Their current one is who can grow the better beard. The answer is neither of them.)

Red Leader Tord In charge of weapons (basically R&D), science, and medical. He’s not on the battlefield much, prefers to spend his time on cybernetics, weapon development, and bioweapon mutations. His lab is huge and he’s got quite a lot of people working under him, including his second in command, Larry. Tord’s the Chief of Surgery and while he mostly oversees the staff these days, sometimes he will still perform surgeries if the need arises. He knows the human body better than anyone. Robotics aren’t even his area of expertise, it’s biology, and he puts it to wicked good use. The King’s Army only has it’s Shifter Corps because of Tord’s experiments. Soldiers who’ve made it through the vetting process are dosed with Tord’s partial shifter serum, giving them unprecedented strength and power. And Tord is always working to improve his skills; his Collectors bring him fresh experiments once a month. And once the 1% and the scum of the earth ran out...the civilians found themselves on the chopping block next. Tord lost his right arm in a lab accident when a robotics experiment exploded. It was a small, rather contained explosion but it still mangled his arm, which couldn’t be saved and had to be amputated immediately. He designed and oversaw the construction of the replacement himself but he’s still working out a few kinks—it likes to fall off occasionally. He’s usually seen in a lab coat, a ratty tank top, and stained jeans. Generally a pretty chill guy, if extremely excitable about his work and prone to making really inappropriate comments and dirty jokes at the drop of a hat. But once he puts on his uniform, it brings out something nasty and sadistic in him and he can get just as cruel as his fellow leaders. He doesn’t give second chances, especially when it comes to stuff in the labs, and if you screw up he shoots to kill. He doesn’t tolerate mistakes or insubordination and takes lab work very seriously.

Purple Leader Matt He oversees all the military units and is the master strategist of the group. He’s also in charge of the torture chambers and the prisons. Matt’s tough as nails and horribly cunning and cruel, especially on the battlefield where he has no mercy for enemy troops. His strategies are vicious and clever and take most by surprise, fooling them with a guise of simplicity before he yanks the rug out from under them. A real mean motherfucker, Matt has more scars than his fellow leaders combined and isn’t afraid to let his mangled flesh show. He’s not at all shy about his body. He lost his left eye to an enemy combatant, had his troops track down the one who did it, and tortured the poor sucker for three days of unending agony. No one crosses Leader Matt and thinks they can get away with it. No one lately has been fool enough to try. Though he seems cold and unsociable, he has a penchant for the finer things in life—wine, silken robes, fancy cigarette pipes, luxury items, the whole shebang. He separates work and pleasure and only seems to let his guard down around his friends, where he regularly is laughing and play shoving or joking freely with them. He often gets into vicious prank wars with Blake that don’t stop until one of them gets yelled at by Tord to stop causing bodily harm to each other. Matt’s mostly known for being a cold, cruel, and vicious son of a bitch. His soldiers both fear and respect him in equal parts and no one dares try to get close to him. His tongue is as sharp as the throwing knives he keeps hidden on his person at all times.

Blue Leader Tom The leader of intelligence, espionage, and sabotage; he has a network of spies and well oiled hands, knows who to pay to control the spread of information, and always seems to know what’s going on with everyone, everywhere, all the time. He runs an elite unit of spies that he’s handpicked and oversaw the training of himself. And while he doesn’t get out in the field much himself (hard to be a stealthy dude at nearly seven feet), he’s incredibly patient and skilled and his men have a lot of trust in him. He’s also a literal tank. Tom volunteered himself to be Tord’s first bioweapon experiment, taking Tord’s first serum--the Kaiju Formula--at the risk of his own life. But to Tom, it was either die trying to help his friends or die from the alcohol poisoning slowly festering inside him. The experiment was a resounding success…with some unintentional side effects. Tom used to around the same height as Tord; the experiment boosted his height, muscle mass, strength, and stamina. And, yeah, he can shift into a literal monster. He’s gotten really good at controlling his shifts so he can change only parts of himself if he wants to. He really likes partially shifting on purpose to scare people, particularly new recruits. Tom’s also the reason that Tord shelved his Kaiju Formula for the foreseeable future and only uses a partial shifting serum on the King’s Army Shifter Corps. Tord’s never managed to perfect his Kaiju Formula and he doesn’t dare use it on someone else. Tom still drinks but he’s not a drunk, just enjoys the social aspect of alcohol (the bio experiment makes it hard for him to get drunk anyway). He doesn’t really like dressing up so even his uniform is pretty simple, and he’s usually found in a t-shirt and slacks or jeans at the most. He’s very sociable with the troops but he has a notoriously short temper with idiots and people who don’t listen or can’t follow orders. (However, he adores children is probably the nicest of the four boys. Just don’t tell him that to his face.)

Monster Tom The first of Tord’s bioweapon experiments, Tom is the most powerful of the monsters but also the most unstable. None of Tord’s follow-up monsters can fully shift into a monster form or get as big as Tom because of the dangers discovered from Tom’s experiment. When he was first dosed, Tom became incredibly ill, so sick he almost died (Edd likes to joke that it was only Tom’s stubbornness that kept Tom alive). It took nearly a month for him to recover and when he did, his attempts to shift were volatile and painful, requiring a lot of stabilizers from Tord to keep Tom alive. Even now when he shifts fully into his monster form, there’s a risk of his DNA destabilizing and making him horrifically ill again. In his full monster form, Tom is nearly 20 feet tall (if he stood straight up he would probably be almost double that). He has a thick ruff of fur around his neck to protect his throat, horns down his back and tail, has enough strength to punch through concrete, and his jaws could crush a tank. Currently, he’s unable to reach his full height and strength. He can shift into a full monster form, but getting too big will most certainly put him in danger. And his body is constantly mutating to try and stabilize itself and adjust to its environment. Tord’s still looking for a way to bring Tom’s DNA back into stability and to stop the mutations. If Tom keeps mutating, there’s no telling what could happen to him...

[millllenniawrites]

warmth (Poe Dameron x Reader)

words: 5.6k yes it is the longest thing on this blog shush

summary: The Resistance’s victory celebration quickly turns sour when their trusted Commander, Poe Dameron, recognizes a toxin in the air. This favourite doctor is the only one he trusts with the information he has. You’re the only one you trust to look after him.

warnings: smut (this is 18+ people); afab!reader; porn with plot; sex pollen so that automatically makes it dubcon; doctor!reader; swearing, drugs, dirty talk, Poe Dameron is so whiny when he’s horny holy fuck; bondage; oral (f receiving); unprotected sex (wrap it up folks); pet names (good girl, honey, sweetheart, baby); this relies on Poe’s spice runner past (the one I use in Helix, not the gross canon one) but it’s not directly dealt with and it’s super vague 

a/n: I was trying to find a place to feature Kade Sol who is my baby sunshine light of my life from the Helix series and I snuck him in here! also this was a worldbuilding writing exercise that somehow turned into the filthiest smut I’ve ever written so there’s that 

__

As the last First Order ship disappeared from the sky, a victory cry sounded through the Resistance fighters. Poe Dameron landed on the tarmac of Cida’s Travel Station, popping the hood of his X-Wing. He grinned, watching the rest of Black and Blue squadron land around him, all hopping out of their ships and rejoicing on the deck.

They didn’t lose anyone in the air today. That alone was cause for celebration.

It had been three weeks of trying to break the First Order’s blockade on the Cida system. King Caran had graciously accepted the help of the Resistance, backed by the New Republic’s ships, and allowed them to set up a temporary base on Cida Prime. In exchange for liberating their system, His Majesty had granted the Resistance usage of their hyperspace lanes, which would cut the transport time from the Hosnian system to D’Qar in half. An easy trade, if anyone had bothered to ask Poe.

Which no one did, these days. But he was doing his best. 

Kade, his captain, shook him from his thoughts as he called from the ground, “The King is asking for you, Dameron.”

He dropped out of his ship, quickly hugging Kade, grateful as always to have his best friend by his side, before jogging into the command centre of the makeshift air base, where King Caran and Admiral Ackbar were waiting.

“Commander Dameron,” the King’s booming voice sounded through the small room as Poe entered.

Poe bowed low, nearly folding himself completely in half. “Your Majesty.” 

A pair of Cidan guards’ in navy uniforms flanked him as he trailed behind the King and Ackbar. Poe found himself tuning out the negotiations, agreeing with Ackbar on instinct as the two men spoke. They took more twists and turns than Poe could count. He began marking various basins, leaking different coloured smoke as landmarks, in case he needed to find his way out. 

Not that he thought the King wasn’t deserving of their trust. This was a war. He just wasn’t going to risk it. 

As they entered what appeared to be the King’s office, Poe felt almost out of place. Like he was floating, a gentle burning feeling in his gut the only thing grounding him. 

In a turn of events Poe was not expecting, he found himself missing you.

He loved Kade. Of course, he loved Kade. His second. His partner in crime. But the flight home was sure to be a boring one without you.

It wasn’t tradition, necessarily. But each time the two of you had taken a mission together, it had been a resounding success. And on your way home, he’d celebrated between your legs. 

And you’d taken care of him after, like the good girl he knew you were. 

The burning moved lower, a sweet smell settling in his nose. One Poe recognized, from a time before the New Republic Navy. 

Fuck.

Voice panicked, “King Caran,” Poe stood, realizing he had interrupted the King. Breathing heavily, he scanned the room, eyes locking on a small stone in the corner. It sat on a warming plate, small tendrils of yellow smoke disappearing into the air.

Caran laughed, following Poe’s gaze. “You know your therapies, my boy.” The man seemed… pleased. Proud. “A gift, from us to you.”

“With all due respect, your Majesty,” Poe coughed, a phantom of the sensation he had only felt once before aching deep in his lungs. “Most organisms outside of the Cidan’s can’t handle Stiima the way your graciousness can.”

“My apologies, my friend. We thought that it would help to calm things. For negotiations, of course.” Caran met Ackbar’s eyes, anxiety evident. “Please understand it is simply the way we celebrate such a great success as we have seen today.”

“I understand, your Majesty.” Ackbar side-eyed Poe, concern evident. “Are you alright, Commander?” 

The ringing in Poe’s ears drowned out the last of their conversation. The next thing he knew, he was back on the tarmac, shouting, “Kade. Get everyone in the air. Now.”

He beelined for his shuttle, locking himself in the cockpit. Hand clenching as he felt himself relax into the passenger seat, the pain of his nails digging into his palm grounding him. 

“Poe, you good?” Kade banged on the door.

He didn’t answer, focusing on the 

Kade finally got the door open. “Poe, what the fuck?” 

“Fly.” Poe said through gritted teeth. “I need you to fly.” 

So Kade did. 

They didn’t dock to the main carrier, flying above it. They would wait until it jumped to hyperspace before they followed. 

Poe watched as fighter after fighter flew into the large ship. Ears filled with cotton, he barely heard Ackbar’s order over the comms for anyone in a shuttle to stay away from the ship.

Code Orange.

Quarantine protocol.

Poe couldn’t stop his mind from going back to you. The last time you were on mission together. The way your mouth felt.

Your eyes. 

The innocent way you would smile, naked and spread out under him… 

“Poe?” Kade asked, sitting forward in his seat. “Are you alright?” 

Poe hit a comm button on his dash, connecting him directly to command. 

“Commander Dameron, are you alright?” A young man’s voice came through his headset. 

“I need you to connect me to med.” 

“Is someone—” 

“Connect me to med, officer. I need to speak with the doctor.” 

*

You opened the hull door of Poe Dameron’s shuttle, a small case of bacta and other various medications tucked under your arm. Coughing into your mask as you entered the dark ship, you quickly located the panel to seal the door behind you, saluting the mech on the ground that would lock you in after the door eased shut.

The convoy had landed hours ago. The medic team had been slowly working through shuttles, administering antidotes to those that could take them.  

It wasn’t poison. You’d ruled that out early. But the obvious effects of dehydration were evident. Poe seemed to know what it was, from the way he sounded in the recording Ackbar had passed off to med, but no one else was familiar with the symptoms everyone seemed to be presenting. 

Looking around, you stayed still for a moment, letting your eyes adjust to the dark. You had been in his shuttle before; you knew you were in the cargo bay, and if you followed the wall to your right, you would find the ladder that would lead you to the cockpit. Your mission. The plan. Assessing Poe and Captain Kade Sol’s symptoms. 

But if you went to the left and pushed the thin black curtain aside, you would find the small closet that served as his bed on long missions.

Your bed, when you joined him. 

It was hard not to smile, remembering the long nights in hyperspace with the famous Commander. The way his curls tangled around your fingers. How his stubble felt against the inside of your thighs…

Taking a deep breath to steady yourself, you shook your head with a small embarrassed laugh and began to work your way to the ladder.

Even with the grey cloth pulled tight across your mouth and nose, you could still smell the musk of the air, heavy in your lungs. It wasn’t unpleasant, but it had a true weight to it, like slightly overripe fruit or warm spices, much worse than the three shuttles you had cleared before this. The rungs of the ladder were warm like the air, slick with moisture, a telltale sign that Poe and Kade had done as asked. There had been no air circulating in the ship since they landed. If any of the airborne toxins had gotten into the ship, it wouldn’t have had the chance to escape outside. 

You smiled as your hands brushed their oxygen canisters, hearing the slow leak of fluid. Always thorough, Dameron…

Your hands grazed the small railing that guarded the catwalk to the cockpit as you made your way down to the sealed door.

“Commander Dameron? Captain Sol?” you called, hoping they could hear you through the dense metal. “It’s Doctor--”

The hiss of the door caused you to jump and you stepped back, taking in the form of the Captain. The large man nearly filled the doorway, dark clothes making it difficult to see him in the blackness of the ship. “I know who you are. Command came through a little while ago.” His voice as gruff as always, but he said it with a smile. “I’ve had no symptoms, but I figure you still need to check me out?”

“Yes, Captain.” You nod, “If you wouldn’t mind going back into the cockpit for me…”

He grumbled something you couldn’t make out but did what you asked, sitting in the only passenger seat in the small room, empty save for them.

“Where’s Commander Dameron?” you asked as you knelt in beside Kade, fingers on his wrist.

You ran through the basics of your training as he talked. 

“Poe didn’t get so lucky. Got hit worse than most people, from what we’ve heard. He was in the King’s office. Said something about a… diffuser?” When you nodded, he seemed to relax. “That’s why he made the call. Asked me to lock him up until a medic got here. He was specifically asking for you, so I guess we got lucky.”

You were grateful for the dark, hiding the way you flushed. “Guess so.” Unable to hide the warmth in your voice, you gave Kade a small smile. “There isn’t a brig on this ship. Where—"

“His quarters. Stun cuffs magnetized to the wall.” He seemed almost embarrassed, ducking his head. “I’m not sure what’s wrong with him, exactly. Just that he hasn’t really stopped making noise since about twenty minutes after we landed.”

You hesitated. Generally careful about the information you give out to patients, you weren’t sure it would be appropriate to explain, but Kade and Poe were a package deal. Rarely did you see one without the other. They’d been joined at the hip since long before they had defected to the Resistance together.

“It’s a potent aphrodisiac.” You murmured, standing behind him and tilting his head to check for discolouration on his neck, “Most people got hit with… well, let’s call it Level 1 symptoms. Loose tongue. Unable to really control what they’re saying, or at least not thinking it through. Level 2 are action: making choices you wouldn’t ordinarily make. The… aphrodisiac part. If you get to level two, we’ve found they wear off in about three hours. No antidote needed. Just fluids and rest, after it all. But you’ve been in here almost a whole day…” and Poe’s condition hadn’t improved.

“Which means what? He’s at level 3?”

There wasn’t a level 3. 

Coming around in front of Kade, you nodded slowly. “Was he complaining of… pain?” you flinched as you said the word, knowing the man had no idea what you were truly asking.

“Right before he asked me to gag him. He had moments he was lucid… basically told me to leave him locked up, no matter what he said.” 

There was only one other person that had said the drug hurt, and she had been fine for a few hours now. 

Kade chewed idly on his bottom lip, seemingly lost in thought. “Not easy being locked in while your best friend is raving like a madman.”

“The gag was a good call. He’ll thank you once he’s back to himself.” You tried for another smile. “You seem okay. Vitals are normal. Rosa is just outside. I’ll let her know that she can open the door. She’ll give you a mask and escort you to showers, and then back to your quarters. They’ll send a medical droid to check you out fully before you’re allowed to intermix with the base. Just in case.”

“Thank you, doc.” Kade stood, heading out the door to the rest of the shuttle. “Poe is—”

“I know.” You nodded, not really thinking through your words. “Closet. Curtain.”

Kade paused, turning to look at you for a moment. His eyebrow twitched, just slightly, before he dropped down the ladder. You appreciated that he hadn’t said anything, having a sneaking suspicion that he didn’t know you only off your medical reputation.

Your excursions with Poe were a relative secret, not wanting command to restrict you going on missions together because of your… you weren’t really sure what to call it. Enough people had stories about him that you knew you weren’t exclusive, but being with him was different. It had always been different. 

Though you supposed all the people he took to bed could say the same thing. 

You pushed the heavy curtain aside.

He was laid back on his cot, only one of his boots on. Poe struggled against his cuffs, attached to the wall above his head, and whined through the gag in his mouth. The bed squeaked and shook. It was a significantly less pleasant sound when you were standing there, not on top of him…

You shook your head quickly, a reminder that you were working, before you knelt on the ground next to Poe’s head. His eyes widened as he focused on you. Reaching for the fabric cutting into his cheeks, your fingertips grazed his jaw. “I’m gonna remove this, okay?” you murmured before eased the gag out of his mouth, letting the loop of dark cloth hanging around his neck.

“Sweetheart…” he whined the moment his mouth was free to move, his voice cracking around the dryness of his throat. You set your med case on the floor and opened it quickly, digging through bandages and bacta patches before finding what you needed. You lifted a small canteen to his lips, letting the water trickle into his mouth. He coughed, spluttering a little before he was tilting his head away, gasping, “Please, sweetheart. I need…”

You shushed him gently, swiping a cloth over his lips. Trying to distract him, you softened your voice, “You got everyone out before it could get bad, Poe. Everyone else is safe.” 

He turned his head to look up at the ceiling, seeming to relax a little. Your eyes found his throat. Watching him breathe, swallow, reminded you of the way his skin tasted… 

Fuck. 

You coughed again into your mask, murmuring, “I’ll be right back.” and ignoring the way Poe whined as you let the curtain fall behind you. 

Once you were a few steps away from him, you could breathe a little easier. The air was hot, fucking scalding through your mask, and you tilted your head back a bit to force yourself to breathe deeply. Slowly. Calmingly. 

You reached up, touching the pad of the in-ear to firmly press it into your head, “Rosa? You copy?” 

The woman’s high voice came through, louder than before. Her voice seemed to be directed straight into your skull. “Everything alright in there, doc?” 

“Everything’s fine. Commander Dameron has symptoms we haven’t seen before and I think I’m contaminated. It’s not bad. I can work through it. But I’m going to take my comm out just in case.” You really didn’t need command hearing your unfiltered thoughts.

She grumbled, “Maker. You sure you’re alright?” You swore you could almost see the way her eyebrows furrowed. 

“Yeah, Rosa. I’m good. Level 1 or less. Just make sure those doors stay locked until we come off it. Don’t open them for anyone. Even the General.” 

She turned on the link long enough that you heard her laugh before she said, “Sounds good. If we need you, we’ll come through the cockpit.” A brief pause, “Stay safe, doc.” 

“You too, Rosa.” 

Pulling the plastic out of your ear, you double checked that you had it turned it off before returning to Poe’s side. 

He relaxed the moment you were back in view, hips stilling on the bed. You tried not to stare at the obvious tent in his pants. 

His eyes seemed to focus better than before, saying quietly, “I heard you. Talking to Rosa. You shouldn’t have touched me.” 

He was right. It was probably your proximity to him that did it. But you had to do your job. That was your only priority, of course. Of course…

“Like I’ve ever been good at keeping my hands to myself with you around.” You froze as the words slipped past your lips, unable to stop them. 

He didn’t seem bothered by the sudden accidental honesty, but his eyes glazed over again, trailing over you. “I miss your hands…” he groaned, biting his lip and sending a wave of heat through you. 

“Careful, or I’m gonna put that gag back in.” Voice sounding forced even to your own ears, you sat down on the floor, your back resting against the bed. 

He mumbled something you couldn’t quite understand, until he repeated himself. “Take yours off. The… the mask. If you’ve got it…” 

He was right. If you’d already been exposed, there wasn’t any point in keeping it on. It was hot. There was no one in there but you. You weren’t hurting anyone. You could take the mask off. It would be fine. You—

“Sweetheart…” Poe groaned, rattling the cuffs. 

You ripped the mask off your face, tossing it near your medical kit. 

“G-good. Can you… can you please take my arms down, honey?” he tugged at the cuffs again. If you had turned to look at him, you would have seen the desperation you knew was painted across his features. “It hurts.”  

His whine sent a pang of guilt through you. “Why did you know what the drug was?” you asked, hoping it would distract him.

“It’s used in party drugs. The way it burns… it’s not like anything else I’ve ever—” He shifted, trying to get more comfortable, despite the way his pants were twisted around his legs from hours of struggling. The fabric stuck against him and pulled, and he moaned, guttural and sweet and chipping away at the wall of self-control you had haphazardly built against him. 

“Poe,” Meant to be chastising, the word landed somewhere in the realm of yearning and breathless. 

“Anything, sweetheart. Please.” Rolling his head back and forth on the bedroll under his head, he sounded close to tears as he whined, “I think my dick is going to fall off if you don’t touch it.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, helping to break the cloud of arousal circling your head. “I don’t think that’s a medically sound diagnosis, Commander.” 

“Say that again…” he breathed. 

“Medically—”

“No.” 

Your sharp intake of breath was the only sound in the shuttle. 

“Commander?” 

He tilted his head back, groaning, “You say my title and I can’t stop thinking about being inside you.” 

“It’s just the drugs.” 

“You know it’s not just the drugs.” You could have sworn it was a growl with the way the low sound of his voice tore through you. “I need you to touch me, honey.” 

“Will you stop talking if I do?” 

“Come lay with me and give me one hand back. Then I’ll stop talking.” 

Negotiating meant he was lucid, if only partially. 

“I thought you said it makes it worse if I touch you.” You squeezed your eyes shut, like that could block out the image that his soft gasps conjured in your mind. 

“It’ll get worse before it gets better.” 

“Always got a fucking answer for everything…” You grumbled, but it worked. Carefully, you eased yourself up off the floor and onto his small cot and leaned over him. One ring of the cuffs released with the click of a few buttons. 

After freeing the gag from around his neck and tossing it to the floor, Poe’s free hand immediately reached for you, gripping your thigh. Even though the thick fabric of your pants, you could feel how warm he was. “Sweetheart…” 

“You said you’d stop talking.” 

“Lay down. Lay down and I’ll stop talking.” 

You had agreed to it. And when his fingers dug into your thigh and the wave of relief washed over you at his touch, you weren’t about to argue. 

So you laid down, back to him, letting his free hand roam up and down your side. Under your shirt. Down under the top of your pants that he didn’t bother to undo. There wasn’t any focus to his movements. Where he touched you, you relaxed, and as his touch moved on, your skin burned. 

You didn’t notice the high-pitched whine leaving your parted lips until Poe’s hand came to rest on your throat. 

“Does it hurt?” He traced from your jaw to your collarbone, over and over, putting just enough pressure on your neck that you were gasping. 

“N-no… Are you…? Does it hurt for you?” 

“This is better. You being close makes it better.” 

“It’s just warm.” That was the only way to describe it. It was like he had set you on fire. Everywhere he had touched ached. 

He groaned, breath hot against your ear as he rutted his hips against you. “Let me help, sweetheart…” No amount of squirming was going to make the heat go away and you couldn’t figure out how he could be so slow about all of this. “I can make you feel good. I can make it go away. Please…” His fingers trailed across the exposed skin of your stomach, soothing the burning feeling that wracked your body. 

You gripped his wrist, bringing his hand up under the hem of your shirt, needing his cooling touch. Arching your back, your ass grazed him and you groaned together.  

“Please sweetheart.” he begged, voice low and sending vibrations through your back where he pressed against you. “Let my other hand down. I promise I’ll make it worth it.” He rattled the cuff still glued to the wall for good measure. 

He didn’t have to ask you twice. Rolling over, you shoved him onto his back and swung a leg over his hips. Grinding down as you reached over him, you released his hands, leaving the cuffs on the wall, up and out of the way. He was quick to flip you onto your back, hand cradling the back of your head as his lips met your neck. 

“Pretty girl…” Poe murmured as his hand tangled in your hair, wrenching your head back to expose your neck. “Such a pretty girl for me… so fucking sweet…” 

“Poe… Poe, please.” The whine left you before you could fully decide what you were begging for. Just more. More of him. His hands on your body. His lips on your skin. 

The heaviness of the air weighed you to the cot, your knees down to the thin mattress as he slotted himself between your legs – still fully clothed – and you fell apart in his arms. Gasping into his mouth, body convulsing, you could barely move with the way he was positioned above you. You couldn’t open your eyes. You could barely breathe with the way every small movement sent searing heat straight to your core. 

“Fuck.” His dark eyes focused on your heaving chest. “Do that again.” 

He fought with the ties on your pants, tearing the sides as he forced them down your legs, taking your underwear with them.

 It was all you could do to keep from screaming as he sunk two fingers into you. 

Each movement of his fingers battled the heat coursing through you and let you come back to yourself, if only for a moment. His other hand splayed out on your stomach to keep you still. He pushed your shirt up and you ripped it over your head. 

Your head spun as you realized he was still completely clothed. 

Leaning down, he sunk his teeth into the inside of your thigh. Where you expected pain, pleasure ran down your legs. Following his trail of bite marks with soft kisses, up closer to where you needed him, he blew softly on your folds and you cried out, bucking off the cot. 

You could hear the squeaking of the bed as you squirmed. Each laboured breath Poe took as he nestled himself between your trembling legs. The rasp in his voice as he murmured, “...wettest fucking cunt I’ve ever seen...” before he lowered his face to meet the apex of your thighs. 

His mouth on you didn’t offer the relief you were so desperately searching for. It somehow made it worse, every swipe of his tongue followed by a trail of fire. 

You pushed at his head but he barely responded. “Poe… Poe please… I need your cock…” 

He hummed lightly against you, his tongue working you slowly, like you weren’t threatening to burn up underneath him. 

Finally, you grabbed onto a handful of his curls and pulled. 

He only looked up in mild annoyance. Gripping your wrist tight, he forced your hand to the cot. “I’ve got you. I’ll take care of you.” Though the words were soft, his tone was gruff. 

Poe slowed his soft circles on your clit and you whined again, pushing up into his mouth. “Stay still.” He mumbled against you. 

Each of his motions were so methodical, you could have sworn you were the only one dealing with symptoms. Until he glanced up at you with his almost-black eyes. 

You stopped breathing.

You weren’t afraid. You could never be afraid of Poe. But you’d never seen him so unhinged. Like he was going to jump, and you were coming with him. 

He snatched up both your wrists, leaning over you. Tipping your head back, you tried to kiss him but he moved further, up above your head. 

In one quick motion, he locked both your hands in the cuffs on the wall. 

“I need it. Please. I need--” He didn’t finish the sentence, hooking his hands under your knees and spreading you out for him. His tongue found your clit again and you couldn’t hear your own scream over the rush of blood in your head. 

He’d always been accommodating. He took constructive criticism well and was determined to get you off, no matter what he had to relearn, when the two of you had fucked before. 

Now, he took each of those little pieces and, like he’d been given the code to your body, he took you apart. 

Every stroke of his tongue would have seemed planned if not for the way he moaned into your skin, the way he grinded his hips into the cot beneath him. You gave up fighting against the cuffs, instead focusing on rolling your hips against his face. 

He held still, letting you move the way you wanted. Letting you use his tongue. Guiding your hips. It wasn’t until he set you down and you opened your eyes that you realized that he was dripping with you.

His chin glistened as he sat up and yanked his shirt over his head. His eyes didn't leave yours as he undid his pants, shucking them off and tossing them somewhere with his shirt. You didn't care. You didn’t care where his clothes were or where yours had disappeared to. 

“My-- the cuffs. Poe, I need to touch you…” 

Your hands were in his hair the moment he released you, pulling his mouth to yours. He tasted of you, and the heaviness in the air, and the familiarity of him that you’d grown so intoxicated by. 

Ordinarily, he’d tease you. Just like this, your legs spread for him. He’d drag the head of his cock over you until you stopped threatening him, until you melted and became putty in his hands and your begging became wordless. 

But he didn’t have the patience. You could see it in his face. He angled his hips, sliding into you slowly. 

With this, there was relief. But it came as quick as it went and you were again whining under him, your cunt clenched tight around him. 

He pushed deeper, his face tucked into your neck. “Relax, baby. Relax. You’re so-- so fucking…”

You didn’t know how he was going so slow. You didn’t know how he managed to stop, only halfway inside you. 

All you knew was that you needed him. 

You pulled his hips into yours. After two orgasms, there was no resistance. He bottomed out, gasping into your mouth. “Pretty girl…” 

“Fu… Fuck me. Poe please please fuck me--” You pulled at his shoulders, his hair, grinding up into him as much as you could with him fully on top of you. “It hurts. Please…” 

Whatever well of self control he’d been drawing from seemed to have dried up. Snapping his hips into yours, he kissed you. 

His tongue dominated your mouth, not giving you space to breathe. Or think. Or do anything other than take what he was giving you. Your nails dug into his upper arms, leaving little crescent moons behind. His soft gasps of encouragement had you writhing beneath him. 

“Perfect little… You take me so well, honey. Like you were fucking made for me…” 

His words alone threatened to take you over the edge. 

The burning came to a throbbing head in your core and you arched up into him, trying to pull him closer. Deeper. Anything to quell the fire inside you. 

“Poe… Commander… P-please let me cum…” You weren’t in control of your words anymore. You weren’t in control of anything. “I need you.” 

You wrapped your legs more tightly around him and his hips stuttered but he wasn’t stopping. Not for fucking anything.

“Let me feel you, pretty girl.” He growled against your neck. 

And you unraveled. 

The relief washed over you in waves as you lay beneath him. Between each peak, you could hear your own panting, feel the way your body fluttered around him. 

You floated in the bliss.

Vaguely, you felt yourself roll over. Something cold dug into your side, but you couldn’t figure out how to move. Or figure out how to want to. 

Your chest was still heaving as he traced along your ribs. A warm body came flush with your back. Fire trailed his dancing fingers. 

“Sweetheart…” A soft moan at your ear. Breath, warm on your neck, sending a ripple through you. He pressed his hips forward, his hard cock sliding against your ass. “I need more. Please?” 

You shifted your aching hips back towards him. “Please.” 

*

You weren’t sure how long passed before you returned to normal – sated and thoroughly exhausted, but normal. Your skin no longer burned at the gentlest of touches. You could stand to look at him, to draw over the planes of his chest as he laid beside you without feeling the unyielding need for his cock inside you. 

Your fingertips traced gently over the straining cords of muscle in his neck and he shuddered. 

“You bit me.” He finally whispered. 

You dissolved into a fit of giggles, curled up against his side. His arm wrapped around you, pulling you onto his chest. 

“I’m sorry.” You laughed against his neck, kissing over the hickies you’d left behind. 

“Don’t be. It was hot.” 

“Where’d I bite you?” You propped yourself up on an elbow, looking down at him. 

He tapped his upper arm, right underneath a series of bite marks. Ducking your head, you kissed over them, murmuring soft ‘I’m sorry’s between pecks. 

“It’s okay. Really.” He tapped under your chin and you met his gaze. “Was that okay? We’ve never used cuffs or anything before and I’m really sorry--” 

You kissed him to cut him off. “I’m okay. I trust you. You know that, right?” 

He didn’t answer. Instead, he rolled on top of you, an intensity in his eyes that would have scared you if you didn’t know him. 

“I’m glad it was you.” Forehead pressed to yours, you shuddered as his soft breaths fanned across your lips. “I was hoping it would be you.” 

Your breath caught. Gently, you brushed away the curls that fell in his face, tilting your face up and bringing your lips to his again. 

He mumbled between kisses, “Can I take you for dinner?” You were too stunned to say anything, letting him kiss your bottom lip gently. He lingered at the corners of your mouth, leaving light kisses behind. “Hm? Will you let me take you out, sweetheart?” 

“On a date?” 

“If you don’t want it to be a date, it can just be a thank-you dinner--” 

“It can be a date. Can it be a date?” 

Giggling against your mouth, he said, “It can. I’d like it to be.” 

“We should probably get out of this shuttle first.” 

“Maybe put some clothes on before that?” 

“Maybe.” Your nose brushed his. “Maybe I’d like to kiss you first.” 

“Maybe I’ll let you.” 

[charliedawn]

Imagine Loki being jealous of Thor's popularity..until you tell him that he his your favorite Avenger ! (Childpov! Because I find it cute..)

When Thor and Loki land on Earth, they both feel disoriented by their sudden shift in surroundings. However, once they are a little less confused, Thor is submerged by fangirls that ask for autographs and photos. Loki rolls his eyes dramatically at his brother's wide smile and surrounded by Midgardian females. However, he is surprised to feel a slight tug on his sleeve and looks down to see a child with a pen and a notebook. He arks an eyebrow, but the girl doesn't seem scared and only raises her objects with stars in her eyes.

" Could you please sign this ?!"

Loki frowns in confusion and looks around, wondering if your parents would interfere or try to get you away from him, but no one comes..He then looks back down at you before crouching in front of you with a small smile.

" You must be mistaking, darling. I'm not an Avenger. If you're looking for my brother, he's right over there.."

He says while showing you the tall blond man with his finger. But the child cuts him off to scream, almost indignantly, at his reply.

"Of course you are ! You tried to save the planet, didn't you ?! You fought Thanos and saved the people of Asgard !"

He is about to deny, but reconsiders when he realizes that you are right..for the most part.

" Well..technically."

He says with a certain uncertainty in his voice. It is bad to lie to a child, but he isn't really lying..Just not adding any information on how he killed thousands of people in New York. He takes the objects and frowns, not really sure how to use the objects you handed him. You smile and show him by mimicking the gestures. He finally gets it and signs his name on the notebook with his neat handwriting. You take the notebook and squeal in utter happiness as you clutch the notebook against your heart while jumping up and down excitedly. He can't help but smile before Thor arrives and frowns at the odd scene. He thinks the girl wants an autograph and is about to take the notebook when Loki grabs his hand, glaring at him warningly.

" Don't you dare. You have your Midgardian fans. Let me have this."

Thor is surprised by his brother's demeanor, until the girl wraps her arms around his leg and screams.

" Thank you so much ! I'll keep it forever !"

Thor sees a smile draw on his brother's face as he gently ruffles your hair.

" No worries, little girl. What is your name ?"

" My name is Y/N !"

You answer with a large grin.

" And do you know who he is, Y/N ?"

Loki glares up at Thor for asking the question, but is overwhelmed with joy at your answer.

" Of course ! He's King Loki ! He's the coolest Avenger ever ! And he's got those superpowers ! Mom says he's a magician ! I love magicians !"

Loki feels his heart beat loudly in his chest and if he could cry, he would have. He takes you in his arms and carries you onward, not giving one last glance back at Thor. Thor is shocked, but doesn't dare contradict his brother's action, only following you after a moment.

" Don't worry, sweetheart. We'll go find your parents, alright ?"

A couple of hours later in the Avengers tower :

Loki shows you to all of the Avengers with a wide smile as you look at everything with glitter in your eyes. He is so proud and happy that none of the others dare tell him to put you down..

" Hum..Should we tell him that the child is supposed to go home at some point ?"

Clint asks while eyeing the both of you warily, but Nat only smiles as she had never seen Loki so happy..Ever.

" No. Let him have his fun for the day. Plus, I already asked her and phoned her parents. They agreed for her to stay with him for the day..As long as we stay with them as well."

Thor only smiles satisfactorily as he sees his brother carrying the small human around.

" How much is a child on Earth ?"

The whole team looks at him with wide eyes and Tony sighs exasperatedly before pinching the bridge of his nose with two fingers.

"Oh no..Not again. When we thought it couldn't get any worse, even Thor is considering buying the kid.."

Thor, still staring at you both, doesn't think twice before saying nonchalantly.

"..Or kidnapping it."

This time, even Natasha is shocked and Thor only smiles at the whole team before adding.

" What ? You think we paid for Loki ? Can't you do that on Earth ?"

" Oh my God.."

Bruce exclaims, shocked and also horrified by the news. No wonder Loki hated him.. Steve sighs while looking at you and standing up to talk to Loki. The moment he announces that he has to take you back, nobody can tell who is the most heartbroken between the two of you. You hug Loki tightly and refuse to let him go. Finally, it's Loki that has to bring you back. Your parents witness your heartbroken goodbyes.

" Goodbye, king Loki. I always knew you weren't a villain.."

You hug him again and, to your surprise, Loki only stands up, makes a magical paper appear and goes to talk to your parents.

" Dear parents of Y/N, you may not know me that well, but I want your child to spend time with me. I think I just made a friend and I may not know anything about friendship, but what I know is that if anything happened to the small human, I would certainly destroy this world and take my own life. Please, accept to sign this contract that allows me to spend time with her, whenever you want..Just, please, allow me to see her again. She's my only fan, and I don't even know how that happened. So, I'm begging you, let me keep her for a day or two a week and I will be forever grateful."

Your parents, awestruck and impressed by the speech, look successively at you both multiple times before taking the paper. Their eyes widen at the money and from what they could see, the God was absolutely serious..

" We..We'll think about it ?"

You father answers awkwardly, not really sure of how to react. The God could easily crush him..Plus, that was one hell of a speech. Loki, satisfied with the answer, bows courteously before coming back to you and crouching in front of you with a smile.

" I'm sure we'll see each other soon."

You smile widely and give him one last hug before he gets back in the car.

2 weeks later :

You're adopted now, don't even try to fight it. You will be his best friend and he will take you wherever he goes as his personal emotional support and a way to never be humiliated again.

" See, brother ! I can be popular too !"

Thor rolls his eyes, the same way Loki did when he had fangirls around.

" Please ! Someone ! Take the child away!"

" On your left, Rogers!"

Tony yells, but Loki zigzags and succeeds in escaping before anyone could grab you. Loki runs with you in his arms, his helmet on your head.

" You'll never catch us ! Nyeheheehee !"

You say in your best evil laugh and the Avengers spend the rest of the day chasing you..The End.

I'm not gonna lie. I did this for fun. I know it isn't Shakespeare, but I still love it. 😂

[sanguine-tenshi]

I just finished Inazuma and I have words

TL;DR: Hate the story, mixed on characters, love the design and tired of being treated like a 4-year-old with a learning disability.

SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT

Let’s start with what I like.

Inazuma is absolutely beautiful. I’ll admit Inazuma hits a lot of aesthetic points for me. All the islands are different enough to feel unique but they still look like they are a part of the same land. There are a lot of secrets to discover through just exploring. Each island has a world quest to help it (make it less hostile towards you) so it very much feels like you are saving Inazuma from itself.

.

The puzzles are alright.

I like the cubes that rotate, I always put in the effort to figure them out properly.

Hate the ones that don’t rotate, they just aren’t engaging enough for me, so I just hit them at random and hope for the best.

The glowing floor tiles were fun, once you actually realized what they wanted you to do. A little bit too easy if I’m honest.

The electro compass isn’t really much of a puzzle, more of a fetch the nearest electrograna quest.

Those little pillars that require an electro connection are kinda boring to me, again not much of a puzzle, the hardest part is finding both pillars.

I love the new electro seelie, kinda hard to follow the jittery thing in certain parts but they make a nice contrast to the regular seelies.

.

I’m very much mixed on characters.

Yoimiya is adorable. She is so bright and bubbly. What little game play we had with her was fun and I love her over the top style of fighting. Kinda disappointed she’s another pyro archer but I do admit it fits her character well. It was also wonderful seeing her just settle down and be quiet, just be a part of that moment that obviously meant a lot to her. It’s always nice to see that bubbly, energetic character have that one quiet thing, ya know. Kinda funny it’s fireworks, of all things, for her.

Gorou I like, from what little we’ve seen of him. My man killed a dude with his thighs so I’m down. I do find it kinda ridiculous that a resistance general has his whole damn belly exposed. There is also something about his voice that just does not fit. I cannot for the life of me put my finger on what exactly it is. Could be the tone itself, could be just voice acting. It sort of feels like the VA is trying to sound deeper than he actually does.

Sangonomiya Kokomi, mixed. I like her design, she looks like some sort of mystical priestess. Again something about the voice is jarring. I expected her to sound sort of airy, like she isn’t 100% present, like she’s seeing something we can’t. TBH she reminds me of Luna from HP for some reason. 

Yae Miko, I was interested because of her design. She sounds very arrogant and up her own ass, which would have been fine...if she hadn’t given us that god-awful line. “...I have high hopes for you, child. Don’t disappoint me.” Dear lord I wanted to punt her off the mountain. Or fucking what! Also she’s some bigshot priestess of the Sacred Sakura and yet she can’t do her damn job properly. Why couldn’t her arrogant ass come down from her high perch and cleanse the stupid roots? Why did the traveler have to do that shit?

Baal looks dead inside. Booba sword is overrated, get a life. I want a remach! And no cutscene shenanigans this time!

Kujou Sara seems like one of those ‘honor above all else’ characters. Those are either hit or miss with me. You have my attention for now. Also what are those shoes woman?! I’d rather you wear those leg-killing, needle point stilettoes instead of those Wish gag shoes. How in the name of all that is holy can you run in those?!

Thoma, I like him. At first I thought we were gonna get another Childe incident, but Thoma is too much of a innocent puppy to pull anything that horrible. To me he fits a fox a lot better than Childe does. Childe is a dingo and I stand behind that.

Kamisato Ayaka...hate her. At first I was neutral on her. Nothing about her design really spoke to me, but I was willing to wait and see. But then miHoYo started to violently push her friendship at us. We are totally friends now, this is the first time you see my face, but we are so totally friends now. And during her story quest everyone was like “Ah, you are so good Ayaka. You are so nice Ayaka. You are so perfect Ayaka. We all love you so much Ayaka. And oh, how could a mere merchant like myself...” Ew, go away. This is the first time I’m actively not pulling on a character banner. Normally I pull even if I’m not particularly interested in a character, because you never know how good their gameplay is until you take them out in the map. But I think I’ll be skipping this one. No thanks.

.

And now, the worst part, the story.

We’ve been hearing about the situation in Inazuma for a long time. There has been also a lot of talk about how hard it is to get there. About the wall of thunderclouds that surround the islands. So to have it cut to black and then voila Inazuma, feel just so cheap.

I was expecting something. An animation. A struggle. A quest. A minigame. At least show us the horrible weather! Something! Anything!

Hell if they wanted to be assholes about it they could have made it so that if the player fails at this point the ship is damaged, you return to Liyue and have to wait until tomorrow for the ship to be repaired. No Inazuma for today. That sure as hell would have raised the stakes.

The next complaint I have is with Yurika, the 2 milion mora processing fee girl. Later on Thoma mentions that the agency people see the fees as easy money, so her attitude doesn’t make much sense. After all someone like her would want to extract as much money as she can, but you still want the people to be able to pay that.

So it would make more sense to me if she was overly friendly and asked way too many questions. She’d need to get a much information as she can and after all the previous hostility people would be very open with her. So she’d be able to quickly find out why someone is here, what they are selling and roughly how much money they’d be able to pay. A merchant selling expensive silk would have more many than a regular ore merchant. So she’d be able to extract as much money as she could.

“I know this is a lot of money, especially for something so simple, but there is nothing I can do about it. I’m so very sorry.” And people wouldn’t say anything bad to her because she’s the first friendly face they see in Inazuma.

The stealth mission was just god-awful and I hope we never have to do that nonsense again.

Getting off of Ritou was a bit janky at the end, Chisato should have had a better reason for coming along. But I’m honestly just glad we didn’t get out the usual way...getting stuffed in a crate and smuggled out.

As a side note, I’m getting really tired of characters overexplaining things to me, especially Paimon. Dear lord, not everything has to be said, you can leave me to come to my own conclusions and solutions. Just please, who cares if a few player struggle for a bit, you don’t have to hold my hand through the whole thing.

Ayaka’s three were...ugh. It was basic emotional manipulation. Oh no this guy forgot about the love of his life and he’s been waiting for decades. And oh how sad this guy was so good and he helped these people so much but now he can’t remember. And oh the tragedy this guy forgot his life goal and is now hunted by the demons of the past. Oh the humanity! 

And it did not work. Know why? Because I have no emotional investment in any of these people, in this land. What is happening to the vision bearers in Inazuma is tragic, true, but that doesn’t make me want to overthrow the government. I don’t live here. I just got here. I wanna ask a question or two and then move on. None of this concerns me.

I was so happy when the traveler just flat out refused to start a revolution. And then we had to go and meet some people and immediately I knew this was going to be some oh noes the tragedy moments and then we would agree to help them.

It’s so forced.

Wanna know what would have been better?

Just as we are leaving the Kamisato estate Thoma catches up with us. And he tells us he gets it. We are an outsider and this doesn’t concern us. He was hopeful but he expected the denial. We shouldn’t hold it against Ayaka.

He joins us as a guide because he knows of the people we have to meet.

And so as we help these three we also get to know Thoma. We find out he was an outsider too. He got in just before the worst of it started and then he was stuck in Inazuma. He lost someone to the Vision Hunt. They slowly lost their mind after loosing their vision, their ambition too closely tied to their personality to continue without it (what is happening to Domon hits a little too close to home and he has to walk away, this is where we hear the story of the one he lost). And the same would have happened to him if the Kamisatos hadn't taken him in. He owes them his vision, his sanity and his life.

So this rebellion is personal for him.

At the end of the three wishes the atmosphere is somber. We tell him we understand why Ayaka fights, why he fights. We know that this is all wrong, that it should be stopped...but not by us. We came here to get a lead on our brother. And rebellion isn’t an overnight affaire and we can’t loose so much time in Inazuma.

And yeah, he expected as much. He just asks that we let Ayaka down gently. It’d be a shame if someone as idealistic and hopeful as her lost their spark.

And so we are gentle but firm with Ayaka. She looks like she wants to argue with us but Thoma shakes his head at her. So she sighs and tells us that a promise is a promise. We should come to the Komore Teahouse in a few days and she’ll have a plan for us to meet with the Shogun.

Now we can still have a character story quest with Yoimiya and we can still somehow get involved with helping Master Masakatsu, but it’s through Yoimiya instead of Ayaka.

And instead of a character story quest with Ayaka we have one with Thoma. Hell, give him a whole damn hangout event even.

You can probably guess why I’m pushing the friendship with Thoma so much.

Because. He. Gets. Kidnapped. For. The. 100th. Vision. Ceremony. 

And that would have been the perfect emotional in to get us involved in the rebellion. After all we just saw what happens to people who have their visions taken away and we are not letting that happen to Thoma, someone we just got close to.

So Baal makes it personal for us as well.

.

I have a few more minor complaints.

Aoi is stupid for asking for compensation after she tells us everything we needed to know because, ya know, we could have just walked away. We should have.

The whole stupid misunderstanding about the value Kurosawa’s sword holds. Kinda obvious he meant emotional value instead of monetary.

The suspicious amount of visionless NPCs and by that I mean this is the first time we have NPCs with vision. This wouldn’t have been a problem if we’ve seen NPCs with visions in Mond and Liyue.

The whole rebellion camp bit feels incredibly rushed. We just sort of lollygag over there and then there is a fight (against Sara and her stupid shoes).

Don’t make us fight Baal just to force us to lose. It would have been better if we were forced to retreat, because Thoma was injured, because there are too many soldiers for us to handle on our own. Hell, you can have a funny scene where we straight up jump off a cliff with Thoma clinging onto us and screaming bloody murder until he realizes we are slowly gliding away and he’s not about to plummet to his death.

The Sakura cleansing quest should have been voice acted.

The Mirror Maiden and Pyro Agent are totally on a date, I will not be told otherwise.

[dontcare77ghj]

Inked

Natasha x reader x Wanda

"You know those cause cancer, right?" Mal asked, entering your office. "And you're gonna stink out your office."

"The window's open." You shrugged, exhaling slowly and sending the smoke out the open window. "And you and I both know, cancer isn't something I'm scared of."

"Yeah, yeah, death licks your boots." Mal rolled her eyes, blowing a strand of blue hair out of her eyes. "Anyway, I'm going on break, Blaine's with a customer, and we've got a walk-in."

"I'll handle it." You promised, putting out your cigarette. "You going to pick up Erin?" You asked the younger girl.

"Yeah, I'm gonna drop her off with a neighbor. May offered and wouldn't let me refuse." She told you.

"Well, here. Get Erin something sweet for me." You said, shoving a twenty into her hands.

"Y/N, I can't." Mal started, trying to give you the money back.

"I insist." You cut her off. "I want to be her favorite aunt." You shrugged, forcing her to curl her fingers around the money. "Go, get your kid, and give her a hug for me."

"Will do, boss." She nodded before leaving.

"Hi, welcome to SkinPolish. How can I help you?" You asked, entering the main room to see the back of a man. He was looking over the walls of the store but turned at your entrance.

"Just so you know, I'm not here to get stabbed a thousand times," Clint told you with a grin.

"I think your day job provides you with enough of that." You joked, wrapping your arms around him. Clint chuckled as he returned your hug, pulling you close. "It's been too long, geezer."

"I know, you've got at least four more tattoos since the last time I saw you, you hoodlum." Clint teased you.

"It's been two years, Clint. Some of us had to change our identities." You reminded him, pulling back. "What are you doing here?"

"I need your help." He told you.

"Blaine, watch the shop." You said without taking your eyes off the man before you.

"You got it, Y/N!"

"Follow me." You told Clint. You led Clint out of the front of the store and into your office. "Clint, I left when SHIELD fell. I handed in my clearance and took off." You said, lighting another cigarette. "I'm not doing any more work for them."

"Don't be like that." Clint groaned, sitting on your desk. 

"First off, get the fuck off my desk. Where are the manners Laura shoved down your throat? And secondly, I can't come back. Fucking HYDRA was running SHIELD for years, and none of us knew. All our information was in their hands. Who knows what they took? I have people I care about, Clint. I can't risk anyone's lives." You told him.

"I'm not asking you to do anything for SHIELD. I'm asking you to help the Avengers." Clint explained.

"Even better, a more public job." You scoffed. "Clint, we're friends. We've been through a lot. I get why you're here, but why the fuck would I risk the people I care about for another mission?"

"Argentina." He said simply.

"That is a dick move, and you know it." You groaned, finishing your smoke.  

"I do know it, but I have to use it. We need your help." Clint said, rising from your desk to stand in front of you. "We need your help, kid. I wouldn't be asking if I had another choice." 

"Fine." You relented after a minute. "When do you need me?"

"Tomorrow," Clint told you. "I'll pick you up." He added before going to leave.

"You don't know where I live." You protested.

"Yeah, I do." Clint corrected you. "I'll see you at nine." He said, and with that, he was gone.

"Fuck me." You sighed, rubbing your hand across your face.

"Remind me why I agreed to this again?" You asked, watching as the Avengers Compound grew closer through the window.

"Because you love me," Clint responded cheekily.

"Keep telling yourself that, sweetheart." You rolled your eyes. "You never even told me what I'm needed for."

"Briefing's in half-hour," Clint told you. "Which gives you enough time to get acquainted with everyone." He added as the car slowed to a stop.

"You know how I feel about crowds of people." 

"It's not a crowd. It's the team and Maria. You're fine, kid, I promise." He said.

"Fine, let's get this over with." You sighed, unclicking your belt.

"Avengers!" Clint called as the two of you moved further into the maze of a building. "I have a surprise for you all!" 

"Is it a unicorn?" A male voice asked as you both entered what looked to be a meeting room.

"Even better. Gentlemen, and Wanda,"

"Smooth Barton." A redhead coughed.

"This is Y/N L/N." Clint continued his introduction. "A specialist in all fields, especially disguise, and the only reason we might do our job today."

"Oh, so I'm doing your work for you again, Barton? Nothing's changed, I see." You commented. 

"Hey! That's not true! Name one time that's ever been true!"

"I can list fifty off the top of my head." You said, raising a brow at him.

"I can add sixty-seven to your list." The redhead piped in. "Natasha Romanoff." She introduced herself.

"Pleasure Agent Romanoff." You smiled. "C'mon Barton, formal introductions, please."

"Yeah, Barton. Introduce us." 

"Y/N, this is Tony, Steve, Bruce, Thor, and Wanda." Clint gestured. "Are you all satisfied?"

"Not particularly, since you still haven't told me what you need my help for." You said, crossing your arms.

"You haven't even told her that. Jesus Barton." Wanda snorted.

"I was getting to that. I was waiting for you all to meet." Clint whined. 

"Well, we're met." You said, taking an empty seat beside Natasha. "C'mon, what am I doing here?"

"There's a gala tonight," Natasha said, handing you a file. "A man named Jayden Reeds is going to be in attendance. Reeds has stock in several large companies, but that's just a front. Reeds actually has ties to HYDRA and deals in human trafficking. From what we've gathered, Reeds kidnaps people who will seemingly not be missed. They're then delivered to HYDRA bases around the world and never heard from again."

"Am I here to kill him? Because I can get behind that." You said, shaking your head.

"Wait till you hear the rest," Clint told you.

"There is a possibility Reeds also has his own collection. He's been spotted with several women who have all disappeared shortly after."

"What's the connection between them?" You asked.

"They're all French brunettes."

"So let me guess, my job is to go undercover tonight and see if he takes the bait. And when he does, I bring him in."

"Bingo Boingo," Tony told you.

"Well, I guess I better find a long sleeve dress. Oh, and maybe a wig."

"You know, if I didn't know better, I would have assumed your accent was real myself," Wanda commented later that night.

The mission had gone as smoothly as could be. Reeds had fallen for your act believing you to be a young French brunette on vacation in America's busiest city.

You hadn't even needed to corner him as he'd followed you into a woman's bathroom with two other men. 

You hadn't given any of them a chance to move or say anything before you had them unconscious on the ground.

Now you were heading home, still decked out in your gala gown, with Natasha, Wanda, Clint, and Tony.

"It's not that good. No matter how much I practice, even my Italian's better than my French." You shrugged.

"Not that good?" Tony snorted, glancing at you in the rearview mirror. "Sweetheart, if I weren't engaged and I met you in Paris, I'd take you back to Hotel Plaza Athenee and show you a time."

"Cute, Starky boy, but you're not my type."

"I'm everyone's type."

"Sorry, hon, but I like women." You told him. "This is my stop." You added as Tony pulled over.

"You live here?" Natasha asked, looking around the neighborhood in distaste. You could understand her aversion to the area. Any one of your neighbors would move in an instant if given the choice.

"Yep." You said, unclicking your belt. "Been here since SHIELD crashed."

"Did SHIELD pay this bad?" Tony questioned you.

"SHIELD pay wasn't great, but it was something. I saved most of it, but a lot of it went to making sure Y/N Smith, the tattoo artist from the wrong side, wasn't connected with Y/N L/N, SHIELD agent." You shrugged. "Didn't see a point in moving after." You added. "This was fun. We should do it again sometime." You said, sliding out and holding the door open.

"We'll give you a call if we need someone to do all the work for us." Clint nodded.

"Great. Come by the shop if you ever want a free tattoo. Clint knows where it is." 

A part of you was sure you wouldn't see any of the team again. They led much more busy lives than you did, and their schedules were forever changing.

So imagine your surprise when Natasha and Wanda entered your shop the next day just to simply chat. And they continued to do so for a week. Sometimes Clint would come, Steve had popped in for a few minutes while on a run, but Natasha and Wanda visited every day. 

On the seventh day, the two came in at one in the afternoon with Tony.

"Hey, Tony. I didn't know you were coming to lunch with us." You said, continuing to lock up the shop. "I'll be ready in a couple minutes."

"Great, but there's been a slight change of plans," Natasha said, watching you closely.

"As long as foods still involved, I won't be too bothered." You shrugged.

"Food is involved. It's just going to take us a while to get to it." Tony cryptically informed you.

"Guys, I'm running on twenty minutes of sleep and caffeine. Please, no cryptics." You sighed, narrowing your eyes at the three.

"Relax, we're not trying to hurt your head." Tony chuckled. "We have something to tell you."

"But first, step this way, away from any possibly hidden weapons," Natasha said, gesturing you forward. "No-one should get a knife to the head because they shocked you."

"Haha." You rolled your eyes, walking forward. "For the record, I did that once. And Clint caught it." You added. "What did you three do?"

"Technically, Tony did it," Wanda said, pointing a thumb at the billionaire.

"Real smooth, Sabrina." Tony scoffed. "Alright, yes, I did this, but I did it out of pure kindness."

"Did what?" 

"I've had all your stuff moved out of your apartment. I've had it moved into a spare room in the Compound," Tony announced. 

"Put it back, Tony." You demanded, crossing your arms. "My things aren't yours to touch."

"You live in a shitty neighborhood." Tony defended himself. "You have eight security systems of your own just to keep yourself safe. You won't find a new place of your own volition, so I found one for you."

"Tony, you moved my things into the Avengers Compound." You sighed. "I'm not an Avenger."

"Yet." Tony cut you off. "You are more than qualified to join the team. The way you helped us the other night, the way you took those men out and got the information quicker than we would have done. You can be an Avenger."

"I'm not risking those closest to me." You shook your head. "I gave up Y/N L/N when I left SHIELD. I have people in my life now, civilian people, who could get hurt because of me."

"Than don't let them," Natasha said. "I've been through your records, know how many people you helped and protected. Protect those you love just as you did all the strangers. You can still lead this life as well as one where you can protect people again."

"At least try temporarily," Wanda suggested. "Give it a month trial period and see if you can remember what it feels like. If it doesn't work out, you don't have to do anything you don't want to. And if it does work, you can join our team. Please." She added, giving you puppy dog eyes.

"Fine. A trial period." You sighed, pushing your hair back. "But no more using those eyes. It's evil, and you know it." You said, pointing at the witch.

"Yes, she does." Natasha smiled, putting her arm around her girlfriend's waist. "C'mon, there's a car waiting to take us back to the Compound."

"Where Tony ordered lunch," Wanda added, putting her hand out to you to take.

"At least he did one thing right." You joked, taking her petite hand.

"Hey!"

You had been staying at the Compound for almost a month. There were four days before the end of your trial period, but you hadn't made your decision yet. 

There was still a part of you that thought it would no longer be safe for the civilians in your life if you joined the team. If you entered the Avengers, you might have to give up this identity and everything and everyone that came with it.

But there was something about being around the team that ignited a spark within you. A spark you long thought had burned out. You longed for adventure, for that adrenaline rush that came with being undercover and the pride you felt at helping someone. 

You were torn between two worlds. Torn between two personalities.

"Jesus Christ, you smell like an ashtray," Natasha complained as she suddenly appeared by your side. You snapped out of your daze just in time to see Natasha take the smoke out of your hand and take a drag for herself.

"Didn't know you smoked." You commented, watching her exhale the smoke slowly.

"I don't. Not anymore." Natasha shook her head. "Just couldn't resist."

"Don't expect me to kiss you until you brush your teeth," Wanda said, skipping into the room and crossing her arms as she stared at the two of you. "I want a tattoo." She announced, staring you dead in the eye.

"Okay. Do you want me to find a parlor for you in the morning? I have a couple friends who owe me a favor or two." You suggested.

"No, I want you to do it," Wanda told you firmly. "As soon as possible if you would." 

"And you're sure about this?" You asked, raising a brow. "You're sure you want a tattoo and that you want me to do it?"

"Yes." She nodded.

"Alright, then. Follow me." You said, leading the two back into the Compound and into your room.

"You have a gun and inks in your room?" Natasha asked, looking your makeshift parlor over.

"Yep. Set it up the night I arrived, gave myself this the next." You said, lifting your shirt to reveal the healing tattoo on your hip.

"Geez, you know most people drink a bottle of scotch to welcome themselves to a new place? Not give themselves a tattoo." Natasha informed you.

"Probably." You nodded, beginning to set up your station. "Okay, Wanda, what did you have in mind?"

"I want the words, 'Ty namnogo bol'she' to wrap around my wrist," Wanda said, tracing around her thin wrist with her finger.

"Alright, I can definitely do that. But you might have to write it down for me. My Russian's not that great." You informed her.

"We'll have to work on that," Natasha said as Wanda began to write it down.

"Alright." You began after Wanda handed you the spelling. "Let's get started."

"I love it." Wanda smiled, watching as you gently wrapped her wrist. "It's perfect." 

"I like to do my best." You grinned, putting the last of the tape down. "Make sure that stays moist. And do not scratch it under any circumstances." You instructed her as you began to shove your equipment away in plastic tubs.

"You need a better system," Natasha commented. "Yours is kind of a mess."

"I'll update my system when I change this room around." You said, looking around the nearly bare room. Everything you owned was in plastic tubs or bags. You hadn't been bothered to unpack yet.

"Does that mean you're planning on staying?" Natasha asked. "Have you made your decision yet? To join the team or not?"

"Not yet. I'm still trying to decide." You sighed, leaning against the wall. "I like not giving a shit. I like waking up in the morning and paying too much for a shitty cup of coffee. I like going to work and being around people who've never had to see the shit we have. I like not having to feel like the weight of the world is on my shoulders, but I miss it. 

I miss being a part of a team. I liked saving people. I enjoyed going on missions, creating new personas to get what I needed done. I miss being around people who've seen the shit I have. Who know what the weight of the world feels like. 

Now I don't where to go. What I need more in my life." You told them.

"We told you, you don't need to pick one world," Wanda said, standing from her stool. "You can still save people and drink over-priced coffee. You can still be with people who share your trauma and be with those who don't. You don't have to pick one world."

"Can we help your decision along by us asking you out to dinner?" Natasha asked, breaking your pensive silence.

"Excuse me?" You asked, for once being taken aback by another person. "I think I went temporarily deaf there. Can you repeat yourself?"

"Let us take you on a date," Natasha repeated slowly. "We were thinking about dinner and wine and then a night at the opera." She said, causing your nose to scrunch up without thought.

"She's kidding." Wanda giggled. "Actually, we were thinking we get a couple beers, order a pizza, and watch a movie in our room."

"Can I pick the movie?" You asked her.

"With your crappy taste, no." Wanda shook her head.

"Okay, now she's kidding," Natasha said, taking three steps forward to stand beside her girlfriend. "Of course, you can pick the movie."

"And this wouldn't hurt your relationship?" You asked tentatively. "I wouldn't ruin what you already have?"

"You could only add." Wanda smiled.

"So, what do you say? You wanna go on a date with us?" Natasha questioned you.

"I'd love to."

"Go away.” You groaned, rolling away and under the covers into Natasha’s body.

“Wakey, wakey. Up and at ‘em you two.” Wanda ordered, pulling the blankets off the pair of you. 

“Wanda!” 

“Both of you will forgive me when I tell you I have coffee.” Wanda rolled her eyes, sitting on the bed beside you.

“The overpriced kind?”

“What other kind is there?” Wanda asked. “C’mon sit up or no coffee for either of you.”

“Alright, alright, we’re up.” Natasha said, sitting up with you on her chest. “Thank you, sweetheart.” 

“I love you.” You groaned after taking the first sip of your steaming beverage.

“Are you talking to me or the coffee?” 

“Can’t it be both?” You shrugged before grabbing her hand and kissing her palm softly.

“As long as there’s love for me too, it can.” Natasha told you.

“I love you too, Nat.” You promised, kissing her collarbone.

“After today’s meeting, I want you to give me a tattoo.” Natasha announced. “I don’t care where is is, but I want ‘YA zasluzhivayu lyubvi’.” She told you. 

“Alright then. I like this plan.” You smiled, looking up at your girlfriend. “You know I think I’m due for some new ink myself.”

“What are you gonna do?”

“I don’t know. Maybe you can choose for me.” You shrugged. “I trust you both, always.”

Once, you left SHIELD and it’s lifestyle behind. And then one day Clint Barton walked into your shop and brought you back into it. 

He brought you back to the life you missed and brought you to Natasha and Wanda.

Remember all Taglists are open as are requests. 

Taglist

@rvgrsbrns @smilexcaptainx @hopingforbarnes @starlingelliot @piper-koko-barnes-rogers @jelly-fishy-babie @skeletoresinthebasement @agent-barnes40 @reann-loves-sebstan @skadikh @summergeezburr @buckybarton03 @sunshinepower17 @bindythedemon @natasharomanoffismywife @keenmarvellover @bbybarness @storiesbystarlight @buckybarnesplumwhore @bromieeeomieee @marvelmenarebeautiful @niki-is-a-thing @pauloonig @abyssiniapleasant @beautybyfire @officalmarvelbaby

Natasha Romanoff Taglist

@natasha-danvers @5aftermidnight @ohfuckno

All women Taglist

@imnotasuperhero

[mrpenguinpants]

Zhongli: Dating HCs

Aww, I’m glad you like it. Honestly, it was probably one of my favourite hcs to write aha. Ah yes Zhongli, the man who I refuse to believe has money and is constantly broke 24/7. An accurate reflection of me when I spend all my primogems on Childe and have nothing for Zhongli. 

This is my first time writing for Zhongli so I might have went a bit overboard? When you were gonna write a couple HCs and ended up writing 1k+ words. Whoops? Maybe I should put a read more on this.

[taglist]  <- if you want to be added, please read this first.

@hanniejji​​​ @mikeysbike​​​ @unionwitch​​​ @musekala​​​ @twistedsunnshiii​​ @stanzastic​​

Zhongli: Dating HCs

When you first met Zhongli, your first impressions on him was that he was a very intelligent and well-culture man on Liyue’s traditions and history. That was until you got acquainted with his money and negotiation habits. It gave you a bit of whiplash at how, almost naïve, Zhongli was but it was also endearing? It made him feel a lot more approachable and make you feel like less of an idiot when he started spouting off about things that most Liyue citizen’s wouldn’t know.

Your inner consciousness was screaming at you to help him out. You didn’t want to see him get his entire wallet scammed because he didn’t know how to handle mora. That’s how you basically became his accountant. You didn’t know where he was getting his money but if he was throwing it away so easily, it wouldn’t last long.

After a while, you developed a business-friend type relationship with the man. You would attempt to handle his negotiations and try and fix his bad habit of forgetting his wallet and in return, he’d tell you stories and odd bits of trivia that only someone like him would know. It was kind of interesting hearing him ramble on about different plants and machines. Though he did have a really nice voice too which probably added to the appeal. He mentioned once that if you were to ever pass away, he would see to it personally that your send off would be perfect. You told him he really did not need to worry about that.

Overtime, you found yourself beside Zhongli on simple outings. No need to worry about work or wondering where the actual hell Zhongli got his funds from, just friendly chatter. If you both happened to meet on the Liyue street with no work to complete, he’d ask for your company. Through one of your conversation you told him you were originally from Sumeru so he’d take you to special spots in Liyue, offering small bits of history.

One day, Zhongli had invited you out to dinner saying it was his treat for helping him out so much. You weren’t going to say no to his company and a potential free meal so you agreed. It was an overall good time until Zhongli reached into his pocket to hand you a gift, a case to carry your vision. You had mentioned once when you first met that your vision had been accidently eaten by a pyro slime when you were traveling from Sumeru to Liyue, so the casing was burnt around the edges. It was a shock to you that not only did he remember, since you only said it once in a brief comment, but the casing was actually really beautiful. Zhongli gently reached over to take your hands to put your vision into the new case, his fingertips slowly lingering. Then the gears in your head slowly began turning as the evening lamps reflected on the vision case.

“Wait, have you’ve been...asking me out on dates?” you asked, eyes blinking wide at him as he tilted his head to the side. He didn’t appear mad or annoyed, just genuinely confused by your question.

“Yes? I was under the impression you were aware I was courting you.”

You quickly run through the last couple of weeks with Zhongli trying to see if there was anything that stood out. You suppose he was smiling a bit more, going to more romantic areas in Liyue, and he did just give you a new case for your vision...

You wanted to die right there in your seat as your entire face flushed red. You didn’t even realize. So much for calling Zhongli the naïve one. Zhongli slightly frowned as he took your silence as a silent rejection and slowly slipped his hands out of yours before you quickly curled your fingers around his to keep them in place.

“Sorry, hang on. Please just -give me a second to collect my thoughts.” you quickly stutter out as you unconsciously squeezed his hand tighter as you bite your lip nervously.  

“Okay, take as long as you need,” Zhongli nods. If you weren’t gripping his hand like a lifeline he’s tempted to ease the pressure on your lip so the skin wouldn’t break.

You did really like Zhongli, you wouldn’t have stopped him from pulling away if you didn’t. But going from your casual friendship to something more?

“Um...would it be alright if we could take it slow? I don’t mean anything bad by that nor am I rejecting you. We could see how things go? Whatever happens happens?” you began to ramble before Zhongli cut you off. He slowly loosens the vice like grip you had on him and moves his hand to gently cup your cheek, to trace along the indent you left on your lower lip.

“Yes, I would like that very much. Thank you,” he smiles softly at you as his amber eyes seemed to glow in the dark. On second thought, you might not be able to take it slow, this one look is enough to kill you.

At first, Zhongli would give you material possessions and while it was very nice and his sense of style wasn’t that bad, you couldn’t help but worry that he might have spent his entire life savings. You have to gently remind him that you don’t need these things to win you over. Just to be himself and let things happen naturally. He nods along and actually begins taking notes, as if you’ve told him the meaning of life. It’s a bit embarrassing but at least it show’s that he’s serious.

Zhongli is earnest in everything he does and sometimes a bit too blunt. He’s still incredibly respectful of your personal boundaries and space but if you catch him staring at you he’ll be honest in his reasons why. Sometimes he’ll keep going and that embarrasses you too much to the point you have to reach over and stop him before your face overheats.

Likewise, his affection is similar. He isn’t incredibly affectionate but sometimes he seems to pop out of nowhere or you’ll be mid-sentence and he’ll sneak a small kiss. He isn’t trying to fluster you on purpose which makes you a bit more shy that he can do these acts with such ease.

Whenever he mentions that he may bore you with his information on odd historical and cultural aspect of Liyue, even calling it a  "bourgeois parasite" you quickly shut it down. He should have more confidence, not everyone in Liyue knows what he knows and he should be proud. It’s because of him that traditions are alive, even if it’s just him that remembers them. He wraps his arms around you and embraces you tightly as he thanks you so sincerely, it almost stuns you in place.

If you do happen to fall asleep he doesn’t take it personally. He enjoys the fact that you feel so comfortable in his presence to rest. But he does end up sitting the the same position until you wake up even though you tell him that sitting in the same position, at night, in the cold, for 6 hours straight is not something he needs to do.

You absolutely do not trust Childe anywhere near Zhongli but you’re weak whenever he gives you that small smile. He thinks of Childe as...a friend? Companion? A walking talking bank account? You doubt it’s the last one considering how respectful Zhongli is but you can’t help but worry. But if Zhongli considers Childe a friend then you’ll silently accept him. It slightly helps you get through the day, until you see Childe already sitting at a table waving to you both innocently. I hope you don’t mind that I invited Childe, he says. A part of you wonders if he actually knows what a date is or if the first times were flukes.

When Zhongli is there you’re both respectful with each other, slipping underhanded comments disguised as friendly jest’s. But as soon as he leaves, you’re ripping into Childe. Zhongli comments that he’s glad you and Childe get along so well as you both stare at him as if he’s grown two heads.

Sometime you get so frustrated that you have to sit him down and just clasp your palms on his cheeks as he stares up at you confused. You want to knock some sense into him that while Childe may own a bank, he in fact does not, and he should really stop digging himself into deeper debt with that Fatui. But he gives you that same tilt of the head, a small smile stretching over his mouth, and his amber eyes soften just a tad that it knocks the wind out of you on just how cute Zhongli can be sometimes.

You both never end up formally putting a label on what you both are, which felt a bit unusually to Zhongli who is so rooted in tradition. But as he watches you pout at him that he isn’t filtering anything you’re saying as you pay the merchant, he can’t help but wonder what the customs of Sumeru are in terms of marriage.