#and in like ten minutes we’re supposed to start getting ready to leave because we have therapy soon

[insanechayne]

~ ~ ~

[spctrsgf]

mi luz

based off of this comment i wrote on tiktok: “he looks like he could use a hug and a shoulder to cry on.”

word count: 2.2k

warnings: nonspidey!reader, language, hurt to comfort fic (miguel needs a break. like a sabbatical or something)

a/n: ngl, i'm not too happy with how this turned out, probably because i wrote it all on a plane and it's not beta read, but i need more soft miguel fics in my life!!!

He’s tired.

He’s tired and he’s missing you. The boring, monotonous walls of his office harshly remind him of his place, the jubilant orange glow of his monitors tell him of just how much more work he’s got left before he can finally retire to your world.

Lyla, lounging atop one of his screens, watches him and his glossed over eyes, knowing exactly what the lazy flick of his fingers meant. She sighs, glitching over to bring one of his screens forward. “Miguel!” She yells, scaring the poor man out of his thoughts and momentarily extending his claws. “Lyla, what the fu- what the hell?” He growls, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose.

“No kids are here, you don’t have to keep it PG.”

“Whatever.”

“Look, you got work to do, and if you don’t finish it soon, it'll be too late to get in some quality time with this lovely human,” she shoves the digitized photo of you up and into his face. “Before your next mission.”

He sighs, knowing she was right.

“Daydreaming about it isn’t gonna get you there any quicker,” she flickers to be right in front of his face, slapping a hand onto his nose as if she could actually touch him. “GET YOUR SHIT DONE.”

“Fine, fine! Get out of my face.” He grumbles the second sentence, swatting her away and strolling back up to his screens. His eyes catch on your photo, and he reaches to enlarge it in front of him, but—

“No,” Lyla dissipates the photo before he can even get to it, face twisted in disappointment. “No. Not until you finish working.”

“Hey! Who’s the boss here?” 

“Me. Now work.” Lyla glitches out of view with a triumphant huff.

He huffs dramatically, pouting as he pulls himself together. He lets his emotions drop from his face and slides into his stoic mask, resuming the work on his screen. It’s hypnotizing as soon as he gets into it; Lyla must’ve done something to keep him focused, he supposes. She always does have a trick up her sleeve.

In what feels like no time at all, he’s done with his work. With a final, defiant tap to close down his screens, he spins on his heel, ready to leave and go home. Ready to hop in through your window— as much as you hate when he does that— and rest his head atop yours, caging you into where you’re surely stirring something on the stove.

But as he turns, he’s face to face with none other than Hobart Brown. A look to the left reveals his partners in crime; and Miguel knows he’s in for a ride. At least a ten minute detour, as it always is with the four of them. 

“What?” His hands come to rest on his hips naturally, trying to become bigger to them as if it would make the next words out of their mouth more blunt and less angering. “We have a slight problem—” Gwen starts, before Pav butts in.

“It's not slight. It’s a pretty big deal!”

“Mate,” Hobie huffs. “That’s not helpful.”

“I’m trying my best!”

"Yeah, and that's going great-"

“Okay, stop it, all of you,” Miguel interrupts before they can go down the rabbit hole, trying to keep his already strung thin patience steady. “What’s going on?”

“There’s another fight going on.” Hobie gives the answer blunt, to Miguel’s satisfaction.

“Cafeteria?”

“Main hall. Sector D.”

The huff that erupts from his lips draws a colorful picture of his current emotions as he hops off of his elevated platform. “I’ll fix it.”

“Whoa whoa whoa,” Miles brings himself to stand in front of the man. “We’re not gonna hurt anyone, right?”

“I can’t make any promises.” He brushes past the kid, dismissing him with a shake of the head. 

“Miguel. Don’t take your anger out on them–” Gwen tries, but all it gets is his recoil and daunting stalk towards her.

“I will do whatever the–” the swear word is on the tip of his tongue, but he swallows it down. “I will do whatever is needed, but violence is not my first course of action.”

“Please be nice to everyone,” Pav says, peeking over Gwen’s shoulder. “It’s been a long week for all of us too.”

Miguel sighs and brushes past them, saying nothing. He brushes off their words in silent agreement. He didn’t really want to hurt anyone either. 

By the time he reaches where he'd been informed the fight was, there was a mosh pit encircling the brawl, a mass of blue and red and spidermen. He approaches from behind, the tide parting for him as each person registers his presence.

When he meets the pearl in the oyster, the hotheaded spiderman hasn’t noticed him quite yet. He’s got the other spidey— one of the many spiderwomen— beneath him, gnarly fist raised to land another punch. Miguel sighs, grabs the back of the man’s elbow, and dragssss him off.

“Everyone get away now.” His tone squeezes the air out of the room and leaves no room for discussion, not that anyone would dare to object. The spidermen flee the scene before he can even finish his sentence, and by the time he’s turned back to the perpetrators of it all, they’re gone too.

He pinches the bridge of his nose, murmuring a low cálmate under his breath as he moves to regain his bearings. “Lyla,” he waves the said woman near.  “Find those spidermen and remind me to get to them when I come back.” She sputters to focus in front of him, dipping her head in an obliged nod before sputtering off again to wherever she found herself needed. 

Miguel shakes and unclenches the fist he’s made with his free hand and stalks back to his office, rubbing the palm of his hand where his claws had taken purchase amidst anger. 

Sometimes, he regrets putting himself in charge of all of this… shit.

But… he’s the only one who can do it. No one had the vigor, the dedication, the understanding of why and what had to be done to keep the multiverses in line and make sure what happened to him never happened again. 

It’s tiring. It takes his nights and his days and chips at his brain until he’s sure there’s nothing left in the expanse of his head. For someone who appears naturally angry, he’s quite good at keeping all the real anger in.

The downside of this: he bottles it all up. But the bottle isn’t big enough, doesn’t last forever, cracks at the seams, and then shatters in a explosion of tears. It enjoys crumpling him into the floor, loves the way his hands shiver in the cold breeze, shakes him to the core and, for all his confidence, makes him doubt.

Lyla’s only seen him like this once, when he couldn’t get away and instead had to sequester himself into his office, not quite getting to hardwiring her nosy personnel to do something else. 

No, he doesn’t rely on her, as he normally would with other problems. He doesn’t trust her, he doesn’t even trust himself with post breakdown Miguel, no. 

He goes to you.

You. The lovely, kind person he’s had the great privilege of calling his. His love, his support, his everything, or better yet; mi luz. My light. The light at the end of the tunnel, at the end of the world, when he feels like the walls are caving in and there’s really nowhere else to go and nothing more to lose.

You calm him, like you always do. Effortlessly caring, eternally so. Never afraid to give, to let him take and take until he’s stuffed whole. You know little things about him, take the time to learn them. Like where to get his favorite empanadas— much better than the ones in the spidey cafeteria— and that he loves when you press your fingers into his shoulder blades. He loves your massages.

He loves you.

Tapping insistently at the shitty gadget on his wrist, he mindlessly pulls up the coordinates for your dimension. Second nature. He’s walked himself into some obscure corner of the building, but he isn’t processing such mundane things at the moment. He can feel himself slipping, the mask fracturing. He can’t be left alone right now.

You.

The portal is up now, flashing and glitching in an assortment of colors, beckoning him in with its delectable light, like a halo. Miguel wastes no time giving in, diving into the portal and tucking himself tight like a torpedo.

Multiverses zoom by as he glides through hexagons and hexagons, thousands of people in each. Worlds that he keeps steady, safe, perfect. Normally, he’d stop to smell the flowers, observe and appreciate the sereneness of every special home in front of him. Pride himself in the fact that there was a special home for someone to come home to. 

But not this time. No, this time he keeps his eyes screwed shut, he wouldn’t, couldn’t get distracted by the novelty. The bottle is cracking now, cracking into long and sharp spikes aching to slice across his chest. He’s so close, all he could get himself to do was focus on his breaths. In and out, in and out, in and out—

The abrupt warning of your multiverse approaching pinches his wrist, reminding him that this whole mess was very much real. He stumbles into your living room with a not so quiet thud, startling you. You drop the spoon you were stirring something with— smells like some sort of sauce, yum— and whip your head towards him.

He’s got his arms wrapped around you before you can even process that it's him, burying himself in your neck and inhaling the calm scent of you, a mix of your perfume and your detergent, so very you. 

“Miguel.” You sigh into his shoulder, wrapping your arms around his waist as the initial shock of his intrusion wears off. 

He slumps into you, only trusting himself to let out a low grumble of your name. 

“What’s going— oh,” your brain puts two and two together. “Oh, Miguel, shh. It’s okay, I got you.”

And he breaks. Because he knows you mean it. He knows you have him. You always do.

The tears are bubbling over the rims of his eyes and splashing down his cheeks, his hands are twisted up in your loose shirt. He’s sure his claws have made an entrance too. One of your hands reaches to turn off the stove, the other rubbing incandescent patterns into his back. 

You were always so careful. Never leave the stove on, Miggy. Don’t wanna burn the food. He loves that about you.

“Hey,” your voice wisps in through the fog of his mental breakdown, of the end of the world. “Hey. It’s me. Just me. Your absolute favorite person on this planet.”

“Multiverse.” He manages through sob induced hiccups. 

“Multiverse,” You smile, breathing out a soft laugh as you toil him in closer. “Breathe, my love. I have you. Nobody is here but me, and I’m not going anywhere. Promise.”

He nods, lets himself weigh more onto you.

“That’s it, I got you,” you coax. “Get it out of your system.”

He gives all the tears he has to give. He’s sandwiching you between the counter and his stature, but you don’t seem to mind. Your spilling words, mindlessly, talking until he’s done and ready to attach himself to them, the soft baritone of your voice.

And it takes time, but he gets there. He’s in the tunnel, the walls are caving in, he’s believing he's given all he has to give, but you’re there, and you’re telling him no, no you have not. You don’t get to lose, because you have SO much more life to live.

His light.

The tunnel lets up, opens up the walls, lets him bathe in you, in the way your arms are still hooked tight around his waist and you’re going on about how there was a new episode of your favorite show that he had to watch. 

And of course he would watch it.

He’d do anything for you, anything you asked whenever you wanted. And he knows, in turn, that there wasn’t a damn thing in this god forsaken reality that would stop you from doing the same for him.

You tell him as much. To his face, into his hair, with the dance of your fingers on his back, in the way you guide him to the couch, when you place down some food and a cup of water— you just cried out your backup supply— and again when you place yourself down next to him.

“I’m so beyond lucky to have you.” He murmurs to you, some fifteen minutes into the episode of your show, something about this dude with a metal helmet and a green baby? He can’t recall the name.

You turn, a smile gracing your features. “You deserve me. You deserve everything the multiverse has to offer and more. Dunno what I’d do without you.”

“You’d have one less person bothering you.”

“Ah, yes,” you laugh, swatting his cheek. “Like you’re such a nuisance.”

He laughs, actually laughs. It’s nice.

You tilt your head onto the girth of his shoulder, snuggling in tight as your attention is again sucked into the screen.

He smiles dazedly at you, finally feeling at peace.

Mi luz. My light.

is anyone else still obsessed with him or is that just me

[baileypie-writes]

Can u plz do Velvet and Veneer with a preteen sister reader who's a theatre kid? Like, when Velvet and veneer are gone, she's rehearsing her lines and songs. And she was too scared of them to find out bc reader assumed they would make fun of her, so they find out through the readers first play?

Tysm!! <333

A/N ~ Sure! I decided to make the show Into the Woods, and the Reader is Little Red Riding Hood. Hope you enjoy(because I sure enjoyed writing it)!

~Little Red~

Velvet and Veneer + Theatre Kid!Little Sister!Reader

Fandom: Trolls 3: Band Together

Reader: Female, preteen, Velvet and Veneer’s little sister, theatre kid

Relationship: Familial

Genre: Fluff

Synopsis: Velvet and Veneer had no idea you were a theatre kid. That was, until they got tickets to your first show.

Warnings: Minor stage fright(Reader), Reader comparing herself to Velvet and Veneer

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Mother said ‘Straight ahead’

Not to delay or be mislead”

You sang, reading the sheet music closely. You made sure that you were in character, wanting to sound as much like Red as possible.

Your school was putting on a production of Into the Woods. Being in the theatre club, you were of course a part of it. You really hoped to land the part of Little Red Riding Hood. Much to your delight, you got it!

It had been a long while since then. Your play was the next night. And while you probably didn’t need any more practice, you thought it wouldn’t hurt.

The garage door opening snapped you out of your thoughts. Your older siblings, Velvet and Veneer, were home. You quickly folded your script and sheet music, and hid them in your backpack.

Your siblings didn’t exactly know about your play. That is, you haven’t told them. You were too embarrassed to. They were big time pop stars, the biggest ones in fact. A simple little musical like this would only make them laugh. So you practiced in secret.

~~~~

It was now the night of your play. You stayed after school to get ready, as it started in just two hours. Velvet and Veneer awaited your return, but became confused when you were ten minutes late.

“Hey, Mom!” Veneer called. “Where’s (name)? She should be home by now.”

“She’s staying after school to get ready.��� Your mom responded.

Velvet and Veneer turned to each other, even more puzzled.

“Ready for what?”

“… The play?”

The twins shared another confused look, before getting up and entering the kitchen, where your mom was.

“Mom, what are you talking about? What play?” Velvet asked, looking at her as if she were crazy.

“What do you mean ‘what play’? Into the Woods! (name)’s school play! Please tell me you know about it?” Your mother said. When Velvet and Veneer stood in silence, she sighed. “(name) didn’t tell you, did she?”

The twins shook their heads, and your mom sighed again.

“Oh my god… Well, we’re all going. I already bought the tickets, so no backing out!”

“Okay!” Veneer said excitedly.

“I just can’t believe she didn’t tell us!” Velvet complained. “Who’s she playing anyway?”

“Little Red Riding Hood.”

The twin’s jaws dropped.

“Wow! That’s a big part! Aww, she’s gonna be so cute!” Veneer said, picturing you wearing a red hood and carrying a little basket.

“Yeah I know!” Your mom agreed. “Now, we leave in about an hour and a half, so make sure to be ready!”

~~~~

As you finished doing your makeup, the reality sank in that you’d be on stage in front of a lot of people. You didn’t know how nervous you were up until now. But before you could panic, you stopped yourself. Velvet and Veneer had performed in front of crowds over twice this size. So you could do this!

You noticed many of your fellow actors rushing to the curtain. Following the flow of kids, you saw that the ones at the front of the group were looking into the crowd.

“Hey! We’re not supposed to do that.” You tried stopping them.

“I know but… just look!” One of the kids said.

You scoffed, wondering what could be so interesting that it required breaking the rules. You peeked behind the curtain, and froze.

Velvet and Veneer. They were here. Why? You didn’t invite them. You didn’t even tell them this was happening! Your nerves skyrocketed. Right as you were about to panic, your director called out.

“Curtain in two minutes!”

~~~~

Velvet and Veneer sat in the front row. Veneer was clearly excited out of his mind. He just couldn’t stay still.

“Ahh! I can’t wait! I just know (name)’s gonna do so good!” He whispered.

“Yeah, yeah, I know! You’ve only said that fifteen times! Now be quiet, and sit still. Jeez, it’s like I’m handling a toddler…” Velvet said.

Suddenly, the lights dimmed. Immediately after, the crowd became quiet. The curtain rose, the stage lights turned on, and the music began.

Velvet and Veneer sat through the character introductions, clearly bored. They didn’t care about the bakers, Cinderella or Jack. All they cared about was seeing a little girl in a red hood. After a few minutes, there you were, skipping through the bakery.

“I wish

It’s not for me, it’s for my granny in the woods

A loaf of bread, please

To bring my poor old hungry granny in the woods

Just a load of bread, please” You sang, cheerful and fully of energy. Everyone in the crowd laughed as you sang the last bit with your mouth full of bread.

Velvet and Veneer had never felt so proud of you up until now. They never knew you had a talent in musical theatre! But there you were, singing and acting with the spotlight on you. It’s was like you and the character were one. Like you were born to play this role.

~~~~

The play was over, and the curtains closed. The applause was still going, but Velvet and Veneer practically jumped out of their seats. They needed to see you.

They waited outside the stage. Veneer was holding a bouquet of flowers, a gift to congratulate your excellent performance.

You exited the dressing room, now out of costume. You turned the corner, and nearly jumped out of your skin when you saw your siblings. You sighed, and prepared yourself for the endless teasing. But to your surprise, it never came.

“(name)!” Veneer dashed over to you. Velvet followed behind. “You were amazing!” He said, placing the flowers in your arms.

You were confused. Both by the compliment and the flowers. “Oh. Uh… thanks?”

“But why didn’t you tell us about this?” Velvet asked.

“Oh… well uh… I kinda thought you’d make fun of me.” You mumbled.

Velvet and Veneer gave confused looks. “Make fun of you? Why would we do that?” Veneer asked.

“Well, you guys are famous pop stars! This was just some silly school play… And I was playing a silly little girl in a hood.”

“Silly?” Veneer said. “It was awesome!”

You looked up, shocked. “Really?”

“Yeah. You were better than Cinderella!” Velvet complimented. Something that she rarely does.

“Agreed! Hey, when’s your next play? Because we’re definitely coming to that!” Veneer asked.

You laughed. You totally didn’t expect them to be so impressed. You suppose that you should be proud of yourself for that, considering that they’re pop stars. But you were just relieved that they didn’t tease you. Instead, you just gained your number one fans!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~~baileypie-writes

[bridgyrose]

White Rose "risky" hanky panky? (whatever you feel risky means.)

Ruby’s breath hitched as she moved closer to Weiss, her eyes already stripping her partner in anticipation of finally being with her. Fingers trembled as they grabbed the soft fabric of Weiss’s shirt, a blush crossed her cheeks as she slowly lifted. 

“Dont take too long,” Weiss said, half annoyed. “We dont have time to dawdle. We have ten minutes until Blake gets back-” 

“This is going to take longer than ten minutes with the way you dress,” Ruby retorted back as she started to undo buttons as she lifted Weiss’s shirt. “Couldnt you have dressed a bit simpler?” 

“I still have an image to keep up. Besides, you’re no better with that corset of yours.” 

“All you have to do is untie it.” 

“And then wait as you take too long to put it back on.” 

Ruby rolled her eyes as she finished unbuttoning Weiss’s shirt and pulled it off. She froze as she heard footsteps walk past the door of Weiss’s office, letting out a breath she didnt realize she had been holding once she was sure everything was clear. “Maybe now is a bad idea-” 

“Its not like we have other options,” Weiss half growled as she pulled Ruby close to her by the collar, their lips nearly touching. “So we either do this now or-” 

Ruby froze again as she heard the doorknob start to jiggle as someone tried to open the door. “We’ll talk later,” she said in a hushed whisper as she buttoned up Weiss’s shirt again, before calling out. “Just a minute!” 

“You’re both going to be late!” Yang called through the door. “Do you really want to miss our flight again?” 

Ruby rushed to the door and opened it a bit with a smile to Yang. “Weiss and I just had a little business to finish before leaving.” 

“Exactly,” Weiss agreed as she finished straightening her shirt. “Need to make sure emails are forwarded to the board, making sure shipments are correct, and to have a replacement hunter on standby in case anything happens while we’re away.” 

Yang peeked into the room. “Right. Come on you two, you’re the last ones to be ready.” 

Ruby nodded and held the door open for Weiss before following the two out towards the airship. The blush finally faded from her cheeks as she made her way to Weiss’s side, fingers slowly glancing against hers. “Maybe we’ll get some time alone after we land,” she said in a hushed whisper. 

“Cant you just tell her that you like girls?” Weiss whispered back. “Or at least that you like me? Then we dont have to keep hiding this.” 

“And what exactly am I supposed to say? What if she doesnt accept this?” 

“She’s dating Nora. I’m sure she’ll be fine if you tell her you love me.” 

“You two done whispering back there?” Yang asked as she slowed down a bit. “I swear you both still act like we’re in Beacon.” 

Weiss scoffed and rolled her eyes. “We do not. Besides, its not like you’re any better. You’re still just as reckless now as you were then.” 

“I’ve gotten better. Besides, I know what I want to do with my life now.” 

“Whatever you say.” 

Ruby sighed and gently reached for Weiss’s side, slowly letting her fingers drag against the soft fabric of Weiss’s shirt as she made her way up. She gently squeezed Weiss’s breast and blushed for a bit as she pulled away when she heard a soft moan leave Weiss’s lips. 

Yang paused and looked behind her. “You okay?” 

“I-I’m fine,” Weiss said as her voice cracked a bit. “Just thought about something my mother told me.” 

“Just keep it to yourself.” 

Ruby sighed and started to fall behind a bit. This was going to be a long trip.

—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Be careful you dolt!” Weiss said in a hushed whisper. “You’re going to wake them.” 

“I am being careful!” Ruby tried to adjust herself, wincing as she hit her elbow against the wall. “Why did you choose the lavatory to do this in?” 

“Because you’re still too scared to tell them that we’re dating!” 

Ruby sighed and looked down Weiss’s shirt. “Its not that simple-” 

“Its always that simple! Just tell them!” 

“It’ll ruin both of us!” Ruby pulled away from Weiss and started to get dressed again. “If I tell Yang, then it wont be long before others find out. You’re still head of the SDC, if anyone finds out that you and I are… you know… it’ll put us both in jeopardy.” 

“Ruby-” 

“We both have images we have to keep up. And we cant let yours get ruined. Not now.” 

Weiss sighed and finished buttoning up her shirt. “We cant keep being scared of that.” 

“Isnt that why you wanted us to start in secret to begin with?” 

“Yes but… things are different now.” 

“Give me time. A-a week.” 

“Fine, but you still owe me a night I wont forget.” 

Ruby smiled a bit and opened the door to the lavatory. “Dont worry, I’ll make it up to you.”

[lafrexniere]

To The House

Summer in Michigan Series

Warnings: Swearing

“Y/N,” you heard a whisper in your ear as your eyes slowly fluttered open. You realized where you were, still on the couch with your head resting on a familiar shoulder. You panicked because falling asleep on his shoulder was not any of your intentions on this trip, even if it was very comfortable. You sat up instantly as you looked up to see Jack. 

“Oh my gosh I am so sorry,” you began to say before he shushed you because there was also a head against your elbow. You looked down to see a sleeping Trevor on your arm and a sleeping Cole on Jack’s other shoulder. You both laughed quietly looking at your surroundings. Your brother and Trevor looked so peaceful. 

“Look’s like we are stuck here Y/N,” Jack smiled. 

“I guess so,” you shrugged. 

“Was I comfortable to sleep on?” Jack laughed.

“Ask the crick in my neck,” you grinned. 

“Extra peanut butter,” was mumbled into your elbow, by a sleeping Trevor causing a laughing fit from both of you. 

“What was that about?” you said.

“I don’t know but, do you know what time it is?” he asked you. 

“Nine thirty-five why?” you say checking your phone. 

“Oh shit, we are supposed to meet Alex at ten, fuck we gotta go,” Jack said bolting off the couch.  You poked the boy on your arm as Cole woke up after his temporary pillow was gone. 

“What the hell,” your brother said in a groggy state. 

“Get up we are gonna be late,” you shouted as you continued to try and wake Trevor. You stood up and shook him forcing him awake, he batted your hands away,

“Just five more minutes,” he groaned. 

“We have to leave in five minutes dumbass, now get up,” you shoved him once again. 

“What, why did no one tell me,” he said snapping awake. 

“Because we just- ugh never mind just get dressed,” you instructed then ran up to the guest room to get ready. You quickly threw on a new set of clothes and ran to the bathroom which was occupied. 

“Open up, I need to brush my teeth,” you pounded on the door. The door opened to Jack and Cole brushing their teeth Trevor followed in quickly behind you. You threw your hair up in a messy bun then got your face ready and brushed your teeth. 

The four of you barely made it out the door but somehow were only late by one minute. 

You hopped in your jeep, expecting to be alone to process your morning, but were mistaken when Trevor opened the passenger’s side. 

“Want some company?”

“Actually, I was hoping to destress this car ride,” you said awkwardly.

“Come on, I have the address for the house, I’ll be your navigator,” he smiled. 

“Okay fine, get in, but my car means my music,” you stated. He sat down and shut the door behind him as you messed with the music finding what you wanted and your journey began. You tapped on your steering wheel as Trevor started giving you directions. 

“Are you singing along?” you said laughing as you heard another voice singing.

“No, no I’m not,” Trevor lied. You two continued your car ride and still continued to hear Trevor’s singing. 

“You are singing,” you exclaimed. 

“Alright, alright, I’m singing,” he rolled his eyes. The two of you continued your carpool karaoke of pop songs and other music, laughing and somehow managing to get lost after Trevor forgot to tell you to turn. After an extra couple of minutes in the car, you finally made it to the house. You saw Jack and Cole standing outside with arms crossed looking impatient. 

“We’re in trouble,” you laughed. 

“They can’t do anything to us,” Trevor answered. You parked the car and grabbed your things out of the back.

“What took you so long,” Jack said sternly. 

“Trevor got us lost,” you said.

“Understandable, let me grab that, our stuff is inside already,” he smiled.

“Oh thanks,” you shut the back of your car and followed him inside. You were so excited once you got inside to be greeted by a familiar brunette. 

[capt-carter-mostly-official]

Hi captain! *salute and wink*

i'm bored can you tell me a war story?

-@azalea-romanoff

Hello there Lea, glad to hear from you!

I’d be happy to, now what would be a good one… hmmm, I can think of a few.

But let’s go with the time I visited my old school with the 107th, since that’s a pretty one and I honestly don’t want to talk about death today.

So, it’s December 1944, it’s new years. We’re all on leave, but not long enough for the boys to ship back to the states. So, what am I supposed to do, leave them in some rooming house in London or Bath and trust them to survive it? Of course not, that would be incredibly stupid.

So, I show up at my brother Michael’s door with these eight mostly American guys in full uniform two days before New Years. Since I’d enlisted, Michael had moved to the same town I’d gone to school in, and coincidentally the one where Angie Martinelli worked at the recruiter’s office. She was a the daughter of an American businessman and his British wife, she’d grown up in New York until she had been sent to the same boarding school as I was. To make a long story short, we’d fallen in love. Which was incredibly stupid, but I never managed to regret it.

She was, in fact, boarding with Michael because I’d introduced them, and when he found out they lived in the same town, he said he couldn’t not give a proper home to his little sister’s best friend. He had eventually found out about us, and by some miracle it was just fine. And of course, she was home. So I’m here, standing on the porch in full uniform with the Howling Commandos, in the snow, in this little town in England, and Angie comes running down the stairs with her hair in pin curls and a shawl over her nightgown and tackles me in a hug, and we’re just grinning and hugging while Michael’s still stunned in the doorway. She looks around, raises her eyebrows, and says “you didn’t say you were bringin’ guests English! Where are we gonna put all these folks?” And Michael just starts laughing his ass off and waves everyone in. They all stomp off their boots and start leaving their shoes by the door like me and Angie.

So eventually we figure out where we’re sleeping everyone; me and Angie sharing her room, Steve and Bucky in mine with Frenchie, Monty and Jonsey on their floor, everyone else on sofas and chairs and a few on the floor. And we all wind up in the kitchen at probably ten o’clock that night drinking tea, because me and Monty had been complaining about the tea Jim had gotten. And Angie and Bucky are commiserating about how horrible me and Steve are to keep an eye on, and suddenly Dum Dum says “hey Miss Union Jack, this your girl?” And then the room got incredibly quite incredibly quickly. Steve, who of course had figured it out within minutes of hearing me mention her for the first time, looked prepared punch him if necessary, Michael was ready to kill the whole room from how he was standing. But also, these men had been alright when they’d found out about Buck and Steve — that’s an entirely different story — after a bit of explaining, and would kill to keep that secret. So, I grabbed Angie’s hand and nodded rather sharply before telling them that “yes, this is my girl, and anyone who has anything to say about it can walk out that door right now and never come back.” Michael just shrugged and smiled. “What, you thought she’d do what our dad wanted?” Was his answer(for context, Dad always wanted me to get married young to a young, respectable, Christian family man. Dad and I were never very close) and Dum Dum nodded and proceeded to decidedly un-subtly spike his tea.

The next day, we somehow wound up deciding to visit me and Angie’s old school, because both of us knew being stuck there over the holiday break was always lonely and it would be nice to see some old teachers. However, the boys only had one change of clothes and both needed to be washed, so we were all in uniform, and I was in my standard officer’s uniform. So we arrive, as our now world-famous selves, to an all-girls boarding school on New Year’s Eve, bearing a large bag of candy and some popping corn we’d picked up from the grocery.

There were about a fifteen, maybe twenty girls left in the place, and all of them were incredibly excited, particularly when Miss Ashton, the headmistress, came down to tell them I’d been a student here. They all knew Angie, she visited often, but they pulled stories out of me for the whole morning, and then convinced all of us to go ice skating on the pond. Which went horribly. Me and Angie knew how, and Bucky was decent enough. Steve chose to sit on the side, In Bucky and Dum Dum’s coats as well as his own, and draw with the youngest girl, who I think was probably about twelve. Dum Dum fell on his face, Monty and Jim started teaching a few to play hockey, and eventually they found enough sticks in the woods to start a game with a rock and a bunch of tree branches. Everyone was just laughing and it was so beautiful. We came in probably around four and made all the popcorn and the teachers who were left joined us. There were stories and songs and Michael came down with some food and we spent New Year’s Eve there.

We shipped out again about three days later. That was the last time I saw Angie. But we did have a “ceremony” on New Year’s Day. We exchanged necklaces, since rings would be too risky, and said vows we made up on the spot with the Commandos and Michael as our witnesses. Frenchie’s dad has been a pastor, so he officiated. It was beautiful. We didn’t say it was a marriage, because we were too afraid. But that’s what it was. She was my wife in every way that mattered. And… I found a letter in a box. From Angie, to me. Signed “your wife, Angie”

So I suppose I’m a widow now. I guess I never really thought about it that way before.

[leclercsluvs]

KM20/NH27 | Echoes of Sorrow

(part 3)

an: last part of the two previous ones. i hope this was good and not too boring. i tried to not drag it out too much, but also not make it too short (i don't think i accomplished this). it's mainly focused on kevin, but nico is a little involved in the beginning. warning: swearing, death, drunk driving, car accident word count: 1.2k

Even though Nico’s partner had tried to prepare him for what he was about to see, he still wasn’t prepared. Not at all. All the blood smeared across the front of the car. The man sitting on the sidewalk, completely soaked from the rain, possibly crying. The older woman standing beside him, hand on his shoulder, also possibly crying. He couldn’t really tell because of the rain.

“Are you going to be okay?” Kevin’s voice broke into his thoughts. Nico shook his head. “No? Then I’m going to need you to stay here. I don’t want you in my way.”

Nico looked at Kevin. “What? No, I’m fine. I can do it.” He looked back at the road. They were now right in front of the accident, and Kevin was getting ready to get out and help whoever needed their help.

“Good. Go check on the driver of the car, see if he’s alive, and how possible it is to get him out,” Kevin said as he walked around to the side to get some of their equipment out. “I was informed there were two wounded, so we’re gonna find the second.” Kevin pointed at two other men, leaving Nico behind with the rest of the crew.

“Alright, let’s get to wo—” He didn’t get to finish the sentence when the car suddenly erupted in fire. “Shit.” He mumbled and collected all the things he was going to need as he called for backup from the rest of the firefighters at the scene.

He ran over there and noticed the pool of blood. And then the body lying on the road. He crouched down and felt for a pulse, but there was nothing. “Magnussen! I found the other victim!” He didn’t know where to start or what exactly he was supposed to do.

“Oh my—” Kevin crouched down and reached to feel for a pulse.

“I already did that. There’s nothing.”

“Did you call for paramedics for—” He looked at the car and back at Nico. “Did you even get to check on him?” There were no screams or anything, so they assumed the driver died on impact, but you can never be sure. Nico shook his head.

“It went up in flames before I got here, and then I noticed her.”

“Alright, well, let’s get this fire put out.” Kevin got up and ran over to the firetruck to get some of their equipment.

The paramedics showed up on time, and they called for another ambulance while Kevin and Nico got the woman into the first ambulance.

“What do we do about her family?” Nico asked, still in shock over the event that had just taken place.

“It’s out of our hands now. We can’t focus on all of them and give information to their families,” Kevin said. “We still have work to do.” He walked to the firetruck and waited for Nico.

It may not have looked like Kevin was shocked by the whole experience, but he was. He may have been a firefighter for close to ten years, but seeing things didn’t get easier as time went on. Whenever a life was lost, he blamed himself. Especially in a situation like this where if they had been there just a few minutes quicker, the driver might have survived.

He did go back to the hospital for an update on the young man and woman involved in the accident. He wasn’t expecting the update to be as morbid as it was; he was hoping since she got there as quickly as they did, she would make it. It wasn’t her death that shocked him the most, though. It was that she was pregnant. She wasn’t far into the pregnancy, but she would have known. And she most likely did.

It took him longer than usual to get home that day. He was usually home for dinner, but he had to gather his mind before going in. He didn’t like to bring work home and bother his family. The problem was just that this time it didn’t want to leave his head, no matter how long he had been sitting in his car outside their house.

It took another forty-five minutes before he finally got out of the car and went inside. The rest of his family had already eaten, but a plate of his favorite food was in front of his seat at the table. It seemed to still be hot, and he wondered if his wife had heated it up for him. He thanked her internally, since he couldn’t see her, and sat down to eat. But as soon as he sat down, the images of the horrific accident started dancing in his brain, and he lost all his appetite.

“You’re not hungry?” Kevin practically jumped in his chair. He hadn’t noticed his wife sitting on the couch. She got up and walked over to the kitchen cabinets to get two wine glasses. “Do you want a glass of wine?” She looked back at him, already knowing the answer but still asking just to make sure.

“Please.” He rubbed a hand over his forehead. He didn’t really touch his food, and the glass of wine stood in front of him, also untouched for an eternity. Louise sensed something was wrong.

“Is everything alright, honey?” she looked at him, noticing the sadness practically stuck in his eyes.

“Hmm, everything’s completely normal,” he mumbled and tried to send a smile her way, but it turned out more like a grimace. He went back to just looking at his food without touching it.

“I can see there’s something. You can tell me. What’s wrong?” She tried again. And this time, the man in front of her broke into tears he couldn’t control, and she rushed to the other side of the table to comfort him.

“It was a horrible accident, a car in flames, a young man, woman, and an unborn child, dead.” He cried, feeling horrible about laying all of this on his wife. She knew this had shaken him quite a bit. He’d never reacted like this to an accident, not even when there had been a life lost.

Suddenly, a child’s voice was heard. “Mommy, why is Daddy crying?” Their five-year-old daughter, Laura, was standing in the kitchen door. The sight of her dad crying wasn’t one she was used to, and she was too young to understand, so explaining it would only end in disaster.

“He’s just a little sad. Why don’t you come help me comfort him?” Louise said and gestured for the child to come over.

“Look, Daddy, I made this,” she said proudly as she walked over to them and held out a drawing. Kevin turned a little around and couldn’t help but smile. His daughter had paint all over, but the drawing was the cutest thing he’d ever seen. “It’s for you,” she said and pointed to the different things on the drawing. “This is you, this is Mommy, this is me, and this is our house.” She proudly explained. It was their family, and a sun shining down on them.

“Thank you so much.” He lifted her up, new tears forming in his eyes, but this time of happiness, and hugged her tightly, hoping the world would never get to hurt his daughter. He wouldn’t be able to handle that. Ever.

[autumnalwalker]

Untitled Solarpunk Witch draft, chapter 1.3

Spring, Week 3, Ten of Swords

“We moved the extraction up a day because the weather took a turn for the worse. Not for the first time, I found myself envying the days before Kessler Syndrome killed the satellites that used to predict that. Not that I was going to let a little wind and rain stop me. If anything, it’d make for a more exciting job.”

There’s more of a crowd than I would have preferred. Not that I mind the attention - I’m happy to put on a show, much to Bast(et)‘s disapproval - but I’d hate for anything to happen to them in the unlikely chance that something goes wrong. 

It’s not too late to put this off until tomorrow. Bast(et) says from her perch on the broom floating just above the water. For once she’s nearly eye-level with me. I don’t like how the wind’s picking up. 

I look up at the gray sky. Even overcast as it is I can still visibly see the clouds moving. She’s got a point, but… I shake my head “It was too late ten minutes ago when we started laying the barrier film out. Now that it’s wet it’s not going to gather back up well and if we leave it out the storm’s liable to shred it. Best thing to do now is work quickly.”

Please don’t do anything reckless because you’re trying to show off. You have nothing to prove. 

I finish attaching the clamps to the underside of the broom and give them a few tugs to make sure they’re secure. “Whoever said that I did?”

Never mind. Just stay focused and promise you’ll be careful. 

“Of course I will.”

I pull myself out of the marsh onto the broom and reengage my interfacing with it, joining Bast(et) in joint control.  I start to shake off some of the mud and saltwater before I remember I’m about to get right back in soon. Looking out at the gathered spectators I give a thumbs up and shout “Good to go!”

Luanna takes this as her cue to start clearing everyone out to a safe distance.  And it does feel like everyone.  Everyone that’s been involved with the project up until now anyway.  Emanuel’s got the airboat ready in case I need something solid to move the drone to.  Travis is there at the head of the group that originally tried to retrieve the fallen tree, including the Richardson brothers.  I wonder if watching me get the drone out will feel like revenge against it for those two or simply being one-upped.  Either way, they seem to be slower to back off than the task group I’ve spent the past couple weeks working with and making it abundantly clear what this thing’s capable of.

Any one of them would be at my side right now if we had anything like a proper hazmat suit in Zello.  But instead we’ve just got me and my implants.

Oh, and then there’s Ursula off to the side.  When’d she get here?  Capturing the witch at work again I suppose.

I watch all of them for a few minutes before we start moving the broom back up and over the yellow-green patch of barrier film floating on top of the water.  We keep high enough that the cables aren’t dragging over it but leaving a little bit of slack for now.  Once it looks like everyone’s as far back as they’re going to move I do one last check on the drone’s status.  I’d powered it back up to a maintenance standby state when I got here so I could monitor its internals better.  Bast(et) wasn’t too happy about this but it shouldn’t be able to do anything without me explicitly telling it to exit maintenance mode and this way if anything starts leaking again I’ll have some advance warning.  For now, it looks like whatever was clogging up the old leak has held.  We’ll see if it holds when we start lifting.

And with that, we command the broom to ascend, straight up.  The lines goes taut and we snap to a halt.  For a moment it looks like we’re resting atop poles extending from the center of the film; a figurine made life-size.  And then something gives beneath the surface and we begin to inch upward.

Slow and steady does it.

“Trusting you with that part,” I murmur.  “Dual interfacing with an old system like this is more of an attention split than expected.”  Enough of an attention split that I slipped back into speaking aloud.

How is that, by the way?

“Okay so far.  A few minor alerts that it’s being moved in an unexpected direction, but no cause for alarm.  Gas canister levels are constant, so whatever clogged the leak is still in place.”

For the next several minutes we continue to slowly rise; me focusing on the broom’s target vector and orientation while Bast(et) keeps us level and adjusts our thrust to keep the velocity constant despite the ever-decreasing resistance as more and more of the drone passes from mud to water.  Technically, either one of us could do the whole process on our own and the broom handles a lot of general command interpretation on its own, but it’s easier and more precise this way.  More importantly, the act of working in concert like this is its own pleasure.

As for the drone’s aquatic disinterment, I can’t see it from up here, but I can feel it.  The changes in its pressure sensors ping in the back of my mind.  The minute change in ambient temperature slides at the edge of my vision.  I let out an involuntary gasp when, for the first time in decades, the drone’s camera sees light.  Briefly the sight of my own blurry silhouette though the barrier film seen from below overlays my own vision.  Bast(et) would call it anthropomorphizing and projecting my own feelings onto the thing, but in that moment I can’t help but feel a sense of relief, joy even, coming from the drone.

Are you alright?

“Oh, yeah, sorry.  Just realized the drone’s camera was still working.”  I switch the feed off.  Sorry little buddy, but that’s a distraction I don’t need right now if I’m going to get you out safe and sound.

We jerk upwards with a wobble as the last of the drone pops free from the marsh bed.

Oops.

That’s a scary word coming from her.  “What happened?”

The resistance dropped faster than I anticipated.  I think our cargo might have been caught on something until just now.  We should be fine unless there’s a problem on your end.

“Looks like we’re g-” I hear an alert ping that never passed through my ears.  My eyes dart to the AR projection I’d set up of the gas canister levels.  “Faster! Now!”

To Bast(et)’s credit she’s accelerating before I even finish verbalizing the command.  Yet at the same time, she manages to ease us into it smoothly enough to not jerk anything around down there.  No hesitation, no questioning, but no panic either.

Below us, where the cables have up until now been passing through a hole in the barrier film, the drone at last reaches the surface and, unable to fit through, begins to lift the film up with it.  As the drone rises, the film pulls in around it, hugging to the old machine’s contours the best it can while making allowances for mud and gravity.  As it clears the water, weights and a cord around the film’s border pull it closed beneath like an inverted drawstring bag and the edges bond together to complete the seal as they touch.

We stop moving and stabilize.  Mostly stabilize.  We’re about at the broom’s weight limit for flight and this wind isn’t helping any.  I’ll need to keep that in mind if I try to take the drone with me when we leave Zello, but hopefully it will be a lot lighter without the mud and guns.

Status?

“Whatever was clogging the leak came loose. I might have overreacted, but it looks like we got it before enough got out to be a hazard. I’ll give the little bit that did a minute to disperse then I’ll head down.”

Are you sure that’s wise?

“Not that much got out before the barrier sealed it back up.  Besides, we know exactly what we’re dealing with this time so worst case scenario we run a targeted cleanse, flush it from my system, and I’m left a bit shaky and nauseated.  And anyway, someone needs to remove that canister before we take this guy back to town.”

This guy?

“The drone.”

Bast(et)’s only reply is a disapproving eye roll at me while I start dismounting the broom and shimmying down the cables.  I’ll need to be sure to thank that guy from the planning group that loaned me his gloves; I hate to think how raw my hands would be now otherwise.  Leon I think his name was?  I’ve got no excuse not to have all their names memorized by now.  Another part of my job I’m bad at.  A village witch should know the names of everyone in that village.

I’m expecting a metal thud or clang when I land on top of the drone, but I’m greeted with a squelching noise instead.  Still some mud and water stuck between the chassis and the film I guess.  Not wanting to risk accidentally rip the coating by climbing down the side, I jump the last few feet down into the water.  Upon landing with a splash my knees loudly remind me that the marsh wasn’t all that deep here for breaking my fall.  That’s going to be sore for a bit, but I’m sure I’ll be fine.

I stand up and wipe my goggles clean just in time to see the suspended drone swinging back towards me as it completes the pendulum arc I sent it on when I pushed off to jump.  Reflex kicks in.  A shout of surprise.  A step to the side.  An arm out to catch it as it swings back once again.  A soft strain on my wrist and shoulder.  The swinging drone eases to a stop.  Mostly.  It’s heavy, but every now and then the wind gusts strong enough to blow it about slightly.  Or perhaps the broom is getting blown and dragging its load along below it.

Either way I keep a hand on it as I walk around to inspect what I’m going to be working with.  The exact shape of the drone is obscured beneath the barrier film that’s draped over it beyond the fact that it’s essentially a box big enough for me to fit inside if I curl up with legs attached to it that are currently folded up at its sides.  We seem to have pulled it out with its front facing upward.

Sorry for stepping on your face, big guy.

So far the film seems to be holding nicely.  No holes or rips.  Nice even yellow-green throughout except for… there! I stop in front of the slowly spreading brown patch that marks where the gas is leaking underneath.  Pulling up the drone’s status projection once more, it looks like shaking the thing around finished dislodging whatever had been blocking the leak and now the gas is coming out faster.  Fortunately, the film seems to be doing its job, absorbing and neutralizing the gas as it makes contact.  I give it another minute for the canister to finish emptying its contents and then another ten for it all to disperse and absorb.  Probably longer than I need to, but best to play it safe.

“Alright, I think we should be in the clear.” I subvocalize to Bast(et).  Easier than shouting up there.  “Lower it down a little.  I’m going to open it up.”

Are you sure you wouldn’t rather wait to move to solid ground first?

“There’s a second canister in there.  If there’s an accident removing it I’d rather it be out here than back in town.  Dangerous to assume that it’s just the one that’s compromised.”

I’ll get the targeted cleanse ready to go.

“Here’s hoping I won’t need it.”

While Bast(et) lowers the drone I look back at the spectators.  Seems like they all had the sense to move upwind.  Good.  From what I looked up, this stuff was designed for indoor use and should safely disperse before it gets to them anyway, but better safe than sorry.

I follow their example and move a few yards upwind myself.  As I start going through a series of menus to prep the command to open up that weapons compartment, Bast(et) rotates the broom and the drone beneath it so as to keep that compartment facing away.  Another big gust comes through, this one enough to set the drone on another pendulum swing.  For a terrible moment I think it’s about to slam into the side of the fallen tree, but it stops just short.  A few more arcs back and forth before stabilizing.

I give a sigh of relief, whisper a prayer, and take a breath to center myself.  

Interface with the drone.  It knows something isn’t right. No fear - it was never taught how to feel that - but it is confused.  This isn’t a proper maintenance orientation.  The constant pull of the cables is sending a stream of warnings from pressure sensors.  The repeated spinning and swinging indicate an unsafe work environment.

I apologize for waking it up sooner than I said I would.  Turns out I needed it awake for safety monitoring during maintenance.  It wouldn’t do to get either of us hurt.

It asks what I intend to do to it.

I ask it to open up its starboard compartment so I can remove that leaky canister.

It complains about the unknown substance covering the compartment.

I reassure it that the substance is harmless and tell it to go ahead.

It trusts me and complies.

I thank it and disconnect.

There’s now a large bulge under the brown patch of barrier film where the compartment door is attempting to open.  I wade back over and poke my wand through the film for a divination.  No significant trace of the gas detected.  The film’s done its job.  Safe enough then I figure and pull the wand downward to start enough of a rip in the film.  I pull the wand back out and re-sheath it while the force of the compartment door opening causes the rip to expand in both directions until the door itself at last pulls free, exposing the drone’s internals to the open air for the first time in many decades as muddy water pours out.

Finally I get to see the damage with my own eyes.  To my surprise, the canister is crushed rather than punctured.  Yes, there is a puncture hole on the door from where the tree fell on it, but it looks like it damaged and deformed the clamp holding the canister rather than hitting it directly.  

I open the waterproof satchel I’ve had strapped to my waist this whole time and retrieve a smaller square of barrier film then reconnect to the drone and ask it to release the clamp.  It obliges and I catch the crushed and probably-empty canister with the film and wrap it up.

One down, one to go.

I set the safely wrapped empty canister down to bob on the surface of the water.  A visual inspection of the second canister aligns with the drone’s diagnostics telling me that it’s undamaged so I pull out another film sheet and repeat the process.  As I’m wrapping the second canister I notice it has a different label than the first one.  Huh, that’s weird, the drone seemed to think they were the same.

I’m preoccupied enough trying to figure out that discrepancy that I’m slow to react to the next big wind that tears through.  Some part of my brain registers the mass of the suspended drone swing into my peripheral vision and I reflexively throw up my hands to protect myself.

My hands that are still holding the second canister.

The drone pushes my back into the fallen tree trunk and I gasp. I feel a crunch as the center of the canister is pressed against the edge of the compartment.  A hissing sound begins.

Shit.

I push the drone away and pull out another film sheet.  Begin wrapping.  Watch the film quickly turn gray.  Apply another layer.  And another.  I’m out now.

Wait.  Gray?  Not brown?  Oh, MG, it is different.  Why is it different?  The drone thought it was the same.  What long-dead Corporate dumbass loaded the wrong canister?  Did I breathe any of it?  Is it skin-absorbant?  Why is my nose running?  Oh shit, I did breathe it in.

“BAST(ET)!”

My chest tightens.  Is that fear or a symptom? My vision swims.  Symptom.

Full system cleanse initiated.  I’m getting help.  Don’t drown.

I have time for one last thought before the full cleanse hits me.

This is gonna suck.

*******

I don’t really remember the next few hours.  And for that I’m thankful.  On the upside, the cleanse kicked in quickly enough that the symptoms from the gas stopped almost as soon as they began.  Turns out Bast(et) had already started the process before I even called out to her.

On the downside, a full system cleanse sucks.  You’re really not supposed to do one except as a last resort emergence measure.  A targeted cleanse would have my implants detecting, isolating, and expelling a specific substance or chemical, or, if properly configured, rapidly synthesizing and deploying a counteragent to neutralize it.  A full cleanse has the implants stimulate my body to expel any foreign material.  It’s an inexact process to put it lightly, especially if you force it into an accelerated mode like we did.  Any food in your digestive tract?  Out the nearest exit and fry a portion of your gut bacteria as collateral damage while we’re at it.  Air in your lungs?  Time to see how fast we can replace it.  Unknown substance in your bloodstream?  Let’s try extruding it through the pores in your skin.  Those implants running throughout your whole body enabling this whole process?  Well, we’re not supposed to do anything to them but accidents happen.

As all that hits at once I last just long enough to feel myself falling backwards into the marsh before blacking out.

When I wake up I’m on a bed in the village clinic with Doc Yepes on one side of me and Bast(et) on the other.  There’s a background white noise I can’t place.  The doctor tells me that, whatever I did, I did quickly enough that I shouldn’t have any lasting side effects from the gas.  Whatever I did as a cure though really did a number on me and he recommends a week of bedrest.  That sounds about right from what I know of the cleansing process.  Feels about right too given how I’m sore all over, nauseous, and itching on the inside.

I  notice Bast(et) pawing at me and I ask for a moment alone with my familiar.  The good doctor obliges.

Once the door closes Bast(et) speaks up. Her voice comes out of a speaker on my grimoire instead of direct transmission to my cochlear nerve. She tells me that the cleanse damaged my implants and that it’ll take some time for them to grow back and self-repair. After calming me down, expressing her relief that I didn’t die, and thoroughly chastising my carelessness she fills me in on what happened after I blacked out. 

When I cried out, several of the onlookers took that as a cue to come to my aid.  Travis and Emanuel got there first with the airboat and fished me out.  Bast(et) set the covered drone down on the vessel as well and started using my grimoire to explain what happened and give instructions on what to do with me.  Most people thought that it was somehow me communicating through secret witch arts despite the spasming and insensate state of my body.  Bast(et) didn’t bother correcting them.

We all went back to town, I was hauled off to the clinic, the gas canisters were handed off to Luanna to finish disposing of, and the drone’s was left on one of the docks under Zello with a tarp thrown over it and tied down to stay put in the storm.

At the mention of the storm I realize that’s the noise I’ve been hearing through the walls and ceiling.  It’s really coming down hard out there.

Doc Yepes returns to check on me.  Over the next couple of hours several others stop by to see how I’m doing and fill me in on what I missed.  Most of it Bast(et) already told me, but some of it’s new details.

I spend the night in the clinic.  The next morning Ursula shows up to walk me back to the house.  I use my broom as a walking stick.  The thought crosses my mind that I’d rather lean on it while hovering, but I can’t properly interface with it right now and it’s low on power anyway.  We run into Travis on the way.  Apparently he’d had the same idea as Ursula.

I spend the rest of the week taking it easy around the house.  Recovering.  Neighbors stop by.  Some are thankful.  Some seem almost in awe of my “sacrifice for the village.”  A couple lay into me for putting everyone in that crowd in danger by trying to do it all myself.  All of them try to help me in some way.  Bringing me food, helping with the wall garden.  Giving me updates on the discussion about what to do with the drone.

Bast(et), still talking through the Grimoire when no one’s around, makes another “welcome to martyrdom” comment.  I’m starting to think that’s some kind of AI cultural in-joke that I’m not getting.

And so I rest.  Recover.  Try to relax before thinking too hard about what I need to do next.

*******

The bathtub now full, I press my hat to the underside and tap the sequence on my grimoire to start the ritual.  Tapping manually.  On the screen.  Hopefully I’ll at least be able to interface with my own implements again soon.

Normally I go for showers over baths, but this is part of the recovery process and I already technically cleaned myself beforehand.  The whole bathroom smells of herbs and flowers.  Some of them are local.  Some of them are from a small stock I brought with me.  All of them have been either stewing with me in the baths that I’ve taken over the past five days since the drone extraction or been arrayed around the tub.  I perhaps could have done a better job with my selection for scents that complement one another better and maybe used a few less to keep it more subtle, but it’s not unpleasant.  The symbolic act of it is enough to help relax me where the scent itself falls short.

I lower myself into the warm water.  Seated, I reach over to the nearby stool, retrieve the gray crystals, and bring them into the water with me.  Four go on the floor of the tub; one on either side of me, one between my feet, one at the end of the tub for my head to float above.  The fifth I place on my submerged chest.

And then, I lay back, float, relax, and wait for the ritual to begin.

It’s not a long wait until the same sonic components on the hat that I used a few weeks ago for imaging the buried drone kick in and begin to subtly vibrate the tub and the water within.  This in turn activates the crystals and they begin to glow.  

I can never help but smirk at that.  The glowing is entirely unnecessary, but we still make them that way anyway.  The same for them even looking like crystals in the first place.  You could say that of this whole ritual, technically.  Why dissolve the raw materials for the growing and maintaining our implants in a vibrating bath to be absorbed through the skin when it would be so much faster and more efficient to just ingest or inject them?  Officially, we say it’s to help ensure they get evenly absorbed and distributed throughout the body.  

I’ve always suspected though that it’s really for the same reasons that we shape our tools to look like giant pointy hats and wands.  The same reasons we style our hovercraft to look like brooms.  The same reasons that we insist on calling our tablet computers grimoires and our portable chem labs/3D printers cauldrons.

Symbolism and ritual.  The witch aesthetic is what aligns the technological side of what we do with the spiritual, environmental, and community side of what we do.  It’s what reminds those we meet - and just as importantly, ourselves - that we’re not just a bunch of body modders and hackers who also happen to garden.  We’re witches and our magic is in finding balance and weaving relationships.  Relationships between individuals to build a community.  Relationships between us and the earth to care for the mother who gave us life after we’ve done so much harm.  Relationships between humans and AIs to learn from one another and celebrate no longer being alone in the universe.  Magic is when the seemingly impossible happens, and it’s through working in concert that we accomplish what would be impossible for any of us alone.  The shapes we give our tools are a reminder that our tech exists to serve that purpose and not the other way around.

I chuckle, further rippling the water.  I’m supposed to be praying or meditating during this process to help focus on who I am and our purpose, and just letting my mind wander off on an undisciplined tangent I wound up doing that anyway.  Getting it right despite myself yet again.

“Something funny?” Bast(et)’s voice projects from the grimoire.

“Just life,” I murmur back.  I’m trying to keep as much of myself submerged as possible, and trying to talk without getting water in my mouth is a bit of a challenge.  “This’ll be the last of these for a while by the way, whether it’s enough or not.  I wasn’t expecting to grow through a year’s maintenance supply in a week.”

“That’s what happens when you’re not careful.”

“I know, I know.  MG, I know.” I close my eyes  “Do you have any idea how hard it’s been to think about anything other than every single minor detail I should have done differently?”

“Judging by how often you’ve been staring off into space, clenching your jaw, then sighing, I surmise ‘very.’”

I realize I’m clenching my jaw as she says that and loosen it with a sigh.  Dammit.  “Did you tell the order about this yet?” 

“I wrote up a draft of a report, but I thought you’d like to review and send it yourself.”

“Thanks.  Maybe we can ask for a resupply on maintenance matter while we’re at it.”

“Given the circumstances, I’m sure they would approve it.”

I float in silence for several more minutes, trying to let that mess fade from my mind for now.  That stress isn’t conducive to healing.  I try to focus on my body instead.  It’s gone all limp and tingly by this point.   It feels nice.  I know I could move it if I really needed to, but even the thought of doing so unnecessarily just seems like an utterly unappealing effort.  I’ve never been able to figure out if that’s just the relaxation of the warm water and good vibrations or an actual effect of the maintenance matter bonding with my implants.

“I miss your voice,” I say, breaking the silence.

“Would you like me to keep talking while you meditate?  I’m told I can be quite soothing when I try.”

I smile, eyes still closed. “Thanks, but I mean your real voice.  The grimoire gets close, but there’s something hollow about it.  There’s a spark missing.”

Silence returns.  Stretches out.

“I miss your real voice too,” Bast(et) replies.

“I sound different?”

“Of course.  Direct interpretations of minor muscle movements filtered through neural readings of intent come in differently than wet vibrations of air.”

“So, that sounds like…”

“They’re not truly even the same thing, but if I were to translate to analogous audio and compare that, then I’d say this way is rougher, deeper, darker.  Close, like you said, but still different to anyone who really knows you.  I could play it back for you sometime once your implants are working again.”

“I’d like that.”  I let myself drift again and try to meditate, but realize I don’t want to be alone in my own head right now.  I’ve had too much of that already.  “At least we hadn’t gone full thought transfer,” I speak up again.  “That would really suck for withdrawal.”

“Or if we’d gestalted.”

“Oh, wow.”  I let out an involuntary laugh and open my eyes.  “I can’t even imagine what that must be like.  I have a hard enough time comprehending what it’d feel like to be merged like that full-time.  To then lose that…  That’s just frightening.”

“Well, I promise you’re not losing me.  Now get yourself healed back up and don’t do anything else that might make me lose you.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

[mediocre-daydreams]

𝐟𝐢𝐯𝐞. 𝐚𝐬 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐚 𝐦𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠

remus lupin x animagus!reader

𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝: 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚢, 𝚒 𝚏𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠

summary: remus craves your touch and he knows you’d do anything for him, which is why he refuses to be with you. your affection spark nasty rumors from the slytherins.

notes: angst, fluff, a few slut shaming comments (will be expanded upon in later chapters), tw//the slug club :/

w/c: 5.7k

ﾟ⋆☾*･ﾟ.・。.*゜✭・･ﾟ✫・⋆。.

as if you were a mythical thing, like you were a trophy or a champion ring; if there was one prize, i'd cheat to win.

you and the girls had nice, established saturday mornings. dorcas, the natural early bird, woke up at seven without fail. lily, the overachiever, followed at seven thirty. mary began to stir around eight, and lily and dorcas would shake you and marlene awake no later than eight thirty.

you’d get ready together—you and marlene were always sluggish and slow in the mornings—and head down for breakfast around nine twenty. you always had a coffee, marlene and dorcas shared a pot of chamomile, lily liked earl grey, and mary liked experimenting with flavors. (she was currently enjoying matcha.)

marlene and dorcas would most likely sneak off somewhere, leaving you, lily, and mary to entertain yourselves. if the day was nice, you’d kill a few hours by the black lake. if the weather was poor, you’d get a head start on homework or wander the common room. you liked your saturday routine.

today was very different.

“mr. lupin is not taking visitors at this time, thank you very much,” madam promfrey quipped, sounding not at all apologetic. “please return at…” she checked her wristwatch. “this evening. preferably tomorrow afternoon.”

james batted his eyelashes. “c’mon, madam pomfrey. we’re regulars! you can’t make an exception for your favorite patients?”

madam pomfrey narrowed her eyes at him. “yes, because treating reckless quidditch players after every match is my favorite passtime.” she sighed, turning her head to hide how her lips quirked upwards. “fine, you may have ten- twenty minutes. but i’m being very generous, and reserve the right to kick you out at any time. alright?”

you and the marauders nodded enthusiastically. madam pomfrey waved you over to a curtain-covered bed, where remus’ hoarse grumbles could be heard.

“lukewarm water… can’t even read… so behind on potions… complete fool…”

“moony!” peter exclaimed, whipping away the curtain and jumping into a starfish-like position in front of remus, who jumped.

“pe- wormtail?” he stammered. “prongs? padfoot? hopper?”

“gee, don’t look so happy to see us. you might overexert yourself,” you teased, taking a seat at the edge of the bed. you took his hand, which was cold and beginning to crack from dryness. you frowned, glancing over at madam pomfrey, who looked busy shuffling through loose parchment.

“how are you?” james whispered. “after… y’know.”

remus snorted. “y’don’t have to whisper. pomfrey knows.”

“ah, forgot about that.” james scratched his jaw. “my question still stands, though. how y’feeling?”

“as well as one can feel after breaking most of their bones and transforming into a class five monster, i suppose.” remus licked his chapped lips. his undereyes were dark—an unusual sight—and his voice raspy from all the howling he’d done last night. he didn’t seem tired in the sleepy way; rather, worn down. “i’m just sick of this stupid bed. i’m fine. i’ve done this my whole life. i hate being here while everyone treats me like porcelain; like they pity me. and it’s boring.”

sirius furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “i don’t pity you, moony. in fact, i take great pleasure in kicking you when you’re already down. for example,” sirius cleared his throat dramatically, “let’s discuss last night, shall we?”

you glanced around the room. “muffliato,” you murmured. “yeah, we were right. i wouldn’t trust sirius with any secrets.”

sirius glared at you and returned to his story. “apparently, my kisses are not appreciated by a certain rabbit, but snot is fine? i see how it is.”

you looked at your feet. remus became defensive. “i do not have snot!”

james looked at sirius knowingly. “yes, you do. it was dripping out of your nose, mate. you fell asleep and i swear, there was a puddle of wet stuff underneath you. horrid, i tell you.” james pretended to shiver.

remus quickly changed the subject. “how’d you all leave in time?”

“peter,” you all chorused. you tilted your head towards the bashful boy. “again, peter’s the most responsible one when you’re not here. he bit us until we woke up and we snuck out before sunrise. you were already asleep then.”

“wait, so did you four get any sleep last night?”

james pursed his lips. “hopper did… and- and sirius power-napped?”

remus looked at you all disappointedly. peter jumped in. “in my defense, i was a rat surrounded by giants! excluding you, hopper. it’s not exactly easy to fall asleep knowing you could be accidentally trampled and killed!”

you pointed at peter in agreement. “see? see? nobody’s scared of you, moony. we’re scared of james’ nonexistent coordination.”

remus cracked a smile.

james was offended. “excuse me? you’re talking to the best chaser in gryffindor history, here! i’ve got a bloody plaque and everything!”

as peter and sirius laughed, you turned to remus and the two of you exchanged a quiet moment. “how are you, really?” you mouthed.

“‘m alright, i promise,” remus’ lips twitched before falling into a frown. he winced. it seemed as if the corners of his mouth were beginning to bleed.

you gasped. “merlin, you’re bleeding! let me get some salve or something, stay right there.”

remus chuckled. “i’m not going anywhere, don’t worry.”

you hurried over to madam pomfrey, practically sliding on the tiled floor in your frenzy. “madam pomfrey, do you have any salve? remus’ hands are all cracked and his lips are beginning to bleed,” you huffed.

madam pomfrey blinked at you and remained silent for a second, before shaking her head clear and digging through a messy medicine cabinet. she held up a small jar labelled “BALM” and placed it in your hand. “it’s my own recipe. very effective.”

you thanked her graciously, and as you rushed back to remus, you could feel her eyes on your back, almost like she was judging you.

“rem, you’re bleeding! did you not notice?” you gushed, unscrewing the “balm” and sticking two fingers into it, scoping out a generous amount of the thick paste and grabbing remus’ hand.

remus’ chest shook with laughter as he watched you fret over him with more care than he’d give to himself. you kneeled down beside him, laying his hand on top of his leg gently, so you could rub the salve into his broken skin.

“rem, i’m serious. why don’t-”

“no, i’m sirius,” sirius interjected, laughing at his own wit. peter chuckled weakly. james didn’t speak, too busy watching you and remus interact.

“-why don’t you take care of yourself more? look, your skin is all dry and cracked. do you have eczema?”

“what’s eczema?” james’ head perked up. “is it a disease? is it contagious?”

peter sighed. “no, it’s a skin condition. it’s when you have dry patches or rashes and no, james, it’s not contagious.”

james sighed in relief.

you and remus were still in your quiet bubble. “i dunno, hopper,” remus mumbled, his eyes fixed on your careful fingers as they moved across the palms of his hands in small swirls, like young, sprightly dancers across an old theater’s well-worn stage. “all the little stuff was kinda forgotten after… y’know. i got bitten. eczema was the least of my worries.” remus laughed dryly, coughing slightly from the effort.

“have you had water? remus, you’ve got to take better care of yourself,” you chided. there was a glass of water on the table beside him, and you adjusted the straw so remus could drink while lying down. remus waved your hand away, pushing himself up into a seated position, much to your disapproval. he looked you firmly in the eye as he took the straw out of the cup, and made a big show of drinking normally.

you bit back a smile at his stubbornness. remus smiled too, the corners of his mouth stretching and pulling too tightly. you placed your hands on remus’ cheeks, willing them into a loose position. going back for more balm, you rubbed your fingers together so the heat of your hands would melt the paste into something thin enough to spread.

“i- i’m going to touch your lips now, if that’s okay,” you breathed, suddenly hyperaware of your compromised position. you were eye level with his chest. “is this alright?” you murmured, sitting yourself on the edge of his bed once more and turning your torso in line with his. you were now eye level, so you could reach the skin on his face more easily.

“yeah, i- it’s okay,” remus dipped his head in affirmation, swallowing thickly. you watched, mesmerized, as his adam’s apple bobbed, and you had to tear your gaze away in favor of the salve on your hand.

“okay, just- um, sit still, please.” your finger was wobbly as it inched closer to remus’ face, and you prayed he wouldn’t notice. you found yourself leaning closer, your free hand coming up to cup his jaw; you felt the growing stubble scratch your palm. oh, how torturous it was to be so close to him, to run your fingers over the lips you’d desperately craved for three years, only to stop yourself from kissing him. he was hurt, and all you could think about was your unrealistic indulgences. you knew remus would never be so selfish.

remus had closed his eyes. you felt like you were taking advantage of him, in some way, by slowing down the movement of your fingers so you could take a couple more seconds to memorize his face. the cluster of freckles under his eyes, the little bump on his nose, the curve of his eyebrows that seemed to twitch with each of your touches, the scars across his cheek that you longed to touch and worship and love…

“okay! okay, i’m all done!” you blurted. you’d recoiled as soon as you found your thoughts drifting into dangerous territory. you smiled awkwardly at him. “sorry about that.” your face scrunched.

remus’ eyes seemed to bore into yours, like he knew what you were thinking. wordlessly, he smoothed out the anxious wrinkles on your face, a content calmness washing over his face as soon as he saw you untense. you prayed that he couldn’t feel your face burning up.

“you could give madam pomfrey a run for her money.” sirius broke the silence, making both you and remus jump.

peter glanced over his shoulder and found madam ponfrey deeply invested in her work. “it’s definitely been more than 20 minutes. y’reckon we should just stay until she kicks us out?”

“duh.” james rolled his eyes. “that way, evans won’t force me to do my homework.”

--

remus looked much better by monday. you would occasionally glance over at him, but only because you were worried about his dry skin. you’d convinced madam pomfrey to let you take the rest of the balm, and now you would force remus to apply it at least three times a day. he didn’t object, much to your surprise.

“can you drop it?” reamus threw an arm over his eyes as peter and james prattled on about the importance of stretching and peter’s father’s muggle pilates class that had done wonders for his flexibility. after seeing remus bedridden from a transformation, their concern and caring nature only multiplied.

“okay, but get this. muggles go to this person called a chiropractor, and they pay the chiropracter to break their bones!” james’ eyes were wide with wonder.

“no, james. they crack their bones,” peter corrected.

“i know! that’s wild, right? i think it could be good for you.” james patted remus on the shoulder. “if not, you should look into cupping therapy. it’s an asian practice; it’s worked for centuries! oh! oh! or, you could-”

remus groaned. “seriously, i’m fine. thanks, though.”

you sat on his bed beside him; the two of you preferred watching peter and james’ antics from a distance. you moved closer to remus, the mattress shifting under your weight.

“hey, i know you’re kind of sick of us worrying about you, but will you at least let me do the balm for you? it’s just that i-”

“yes, yes, please do.” remus interrupted. his eyes widened as if he hadn’t meant to say anything. “i mean, yes, that’s okay. i’m okay with that.”

you tried to hide your giddiness as you pulled the balm from the pocket of your robes (you’d taken to carrying it around wherever you went) and followed the routine you and remus had fallen into. he’d hold out his hand, you’d take it and apply the balm, and he’d squeeze your hand and you’d probably look up at him, all flustered, and he’d probably look down at you, all flustered, and you’d probably stay there for a moment before letting go of each others’ hands, all flustered.

you hated how much of an effect he had on you. you prided yourself on being collected and consistent and confident, but he seemed to shatter every one of your walls with just one look. and you hated yourself for never being able to stick around whenever he saw past one of your acts. when he’d ask you what was wrong, or if you were okay, or if you needed to talk, you’d always plaster this stupid smile on and brush him off.

but sometimes you weren’t okay. sometimes, your mind raced with thoughts of the war, and concerns about remus’ lycanthropy, and what would happen to him as not only a half-blood but a werewolf, and what would happen to you as a muggle born, and what would happen to the two of you if you ended up tog-

you didn’t want to burden remus with such things, so you didn’t. you didn’t want to burden anyone with such trivial worries, so you didn’t. that was something you liked about yourself: you cared about your friends enough to make sure they didn’t have to fall into your pits of distress because you never tied them down with anchors. you made sure that they could sail freely.

so there went the routine. you dropped remus’ hand and busied yourself with screwing the cap back on, and you could feel remus’ eyes on the crown of your head as you ducked down and tried to avoid his gaze.

“what’re you two up to now?” sirius leaned on the doorframe, taking in the scene before him. 

“you’re back!” you jumped from remus’ bed and ran towards sirius, enveloping him into a big hug. sirius laughed, reciprocating. he lifted you from the ground and swayed you back and forth enthusiastically, much to your glee.

“i’m back!” he boomed. “good godric, i think i’d rather kiss my mother than take another detention with binns.”

“you’re back,” remus grumbled, suddenly sullen. peter and sirius exchanged the same knowing look that they had been for weeks now.

peter waggled his eyebrows at sirius, and james, for once, caught on. james stifled a laugh. “i never noticed, but you and padfoot look really good together,” he commented nonchalantly.

“yeah?” sirius raised a brow. “d’you think so, dove?” he lowered you to the ground and looked down at you questioningly.

“erm, what?” you smiled thinly. “like, as a couple?”

“yeah,” peter agreed, “i could totally see it. you’re both… uh…” peter struggled to find traits that the two of you had in common. you and sirius more so balanced each other out rather than complimented each other.

“you’re both beautiful!” janes shouted. “suuuper handsome. real lookers, you two.”

remus turned away from james and peter’s terrible matchmaking and settled for shuffling his feet back and forth on the floor. he tried not to tap; you always knew something was up when he tapped. he wasn’t in the mood to be interrogated.

“thanks, james.” you squinted. “are you guys okay? you’re being really weird.”

“all good!” james fumbled. “i just got excited about… the two of you, s’all.”

“oh, i know! you’re both really stubborn,” peter blurted.

you looked at sirius, confused. sirius shrugged.

“alright, you’ve officially lost it. sirius and i?” you wrinkled your nose at him.

sirius laughed in agreement. “we’d never work. i’m too ravishingly gorgeous and effortlessly charismatic for hopper. she’d blind herself trying to admire my radiance, and we don’t want that, do we?”

“for your information, sirius, i’m way out of your league. resort to your flowery language if you must, but i don’t need to prove my worth. it speaks for itself,” you humphed, sticking your chin up theatrically. 

remus grinned, hiding it under his tilted face.

“alright, i’m officially done here. goodbye, marauders!” you called from over your shoulder as you scurried down the spiral staircase.

“goodbye marauder, singular!” james shouted after you.

peter looked at remus smugly. “y’good, moony? or is your skin acting up? should we apply some more balm for you?”

“yeah, y’look a little off, mate. s’everything alright?” james pitched in.

“i’m fine,” remus snapped. 

“are you sure? you seem… upset,” sirius probed, inching closer.

“i’m not upset!” remus insisted. “i’m completely fine, see?” he lifted his head up and it was comically obvious that he was upset. his eyebrows were pinched and his cheeks slightly flushed.

“okay, okay! you’re not upset. would you say that you’re… jealous?” sirius grinned.

“i don’t know what you mean.”

“oh c’mon,” james whined, throwing himself backwards onto remus’ bed. “we all know you like her.”

“i- i don’t know who you’re talking about,” remus stammered.

peter clicked his tongue. “has anyone told you you’re a shit liar, moony?”

“oh, sod off, would’ya?”

“moony’s jealous! moony’s jealous!” james and sirius cheered, watching as remus’ ears began to turn red. “oooo, you so like her,” james teased.

“i do not!”

sirius shook his finger at remus. “aha! so there is a her!”

“no! i mean, i just-”

“mate, she obviously likes you back. she’s confessed her love to you at least twice now. i dunno what you’re doing, but whatever it is, stop.” peter crossed his arms, disappointed at his friend.

remus tilted his head back and stared at the ceiling. “it doesn’t matter if she likes me back, i don’t want to be with her.”

“why?” james yelled, absolutely horrified.

“that makes no sense!” sirius gasped, baffled.

“you dimwit!” peter scoffed.

“because she’s… she’s her, and i’m me!” remus snarled, whipping his head around to face his three meddlesome friends. “don’t you understand? i’m- i’m going to spend the rest of my life trapped by this damn condition and she’s been through one transformation with me and- and do you see how much she’s been struggling? she’s not been sleeping or eating properly; she’s constantly chasing me and she won’t let me bloody help her. i just know she’d spend the rest of her life trying to fix me but i can’t be fixed and i won’t let her waste her life tied down by someone like me!”

the marauders were silent.

“what do you mean, ‘someone like you?’” sirius croaked.

remus exhaled shakily. “a monster, sirius. she deserves so much more than a monster.”

--

monday potions with the slytherins was surprisingly your favorite class. you were good at potions, and as long as you sat near the front, you wouldn’t have to deal with the nastier specimens. today was no exception. you and lily—the two of you were almost always partners—were all the way up front, and early as well.

there were still a few minutes until class started and slughorn had not yet arrived. you and lily were sifting through your satchels for quills and parchment while you chatted.

“so where were you last saturday?” lily smoothed out her parchment with concentration.

“uh, mo- remus had a cold, so i went to check on him,” you lied smoothly.

“oh, remus had a cold, now did he?” lily didn’t look at you, but you could hear the teasing in her voice.

“yes, remus had a cold. and being the considerate and polite friend that i am, i went to check on him,” you stated plainly.

lily hummed questioningly. “let’s say i believe you—in terms of the friend bit, i mean. why haven’t i seen you all weekend? surely, you haven’t been sleeping over in the hospital wing. and you don’t seem very sick to me.”

“i-” you coughed. “i’ve been… busy.”

it was a flimsy lie, and you both knew it. lily sighed, tutting at your secretive behavior. “alright then, whatever you say. now, i have to fill you in on-”

“look, there’s two of ‘em!” mulciber’s crass voice interrupted you and lily’s peaceful conversation.

you rolled your eyes, resigning yourself to lining up your quill and parchment so they were perfectly parallel.

“the prude and the slut!” somebody laughed, their identity lost underneath the layer of chittering students who began to flood into the classroom.

you looked over at lily, examining her reaction. her eyebrows, thin and straight, twitched noticably. you watched as she pursed her lips momentarily before pulling them into a strained smile. “like i was saying, i’ve got to fill you in on mary’s minstrations at lunch.”

you smiled warmly at her. lily wore her heart on her sleeve unabashedly, and you were always better at hiding your feelings. that’s why people flocked to you for comfort, you assumed.

“hello, lovely ladies!” sirius suavely sat behind you, resting his elbows on the desk and propping his head up. “what a beautiful morning it is, but not quite as beautiful as you two,” he flirted.

you pinched his cheek. “hey, gorgeous,” you purred, looking him up and down. “i could say the same to you.”

remus slid into the seat beside sirius, smiling stiffly at you and raising his hand in greeting.

“oh! hi, remus!” you were caught off guard and your voice was pitched higher than normal. you cleared your throat. “i mean, hi.”

remus looked around nervously. “yeah. hi.”

“GOOD MORNING!” slughorn boomed, somehow even more passionate than usual. there were a few murmurs of “good morning” and other halfhearted greetings, though slughorn wasn’t at all put off by the lack of enthusiasm.

“is it just me, or has he lost it?” you heard james whisper to peter from beside you. 

“has he ever had it?” peter rebuked, making you chuckle under your breath. lily looked over at you questioningly. you waved it off.

“as you all know, your o.w.l.s. are coming up, which is why the rest of our classes this year will be dedicated to content review.”

the class groaned.

“however!” slughorn beamed. “this year’s examinations will focus primarily on brewing and less on history, which means i will be making all essays worth a quarter less.

“instead, we will be focusing on more challenging in-class potions in partners. now, i understand that you’ve all been allowed to choose partners in the past; however, to ensure that your brewing capabilities are not dependent on a certain partner,” slughorn looked at avery and crouch in the back, “i will be randomly assigning different partners for each class.

“today, we will be brewing the wit-sharpening potion—godric knows some of you need it,” slughorn muttered, “and these will be the pairs:

“evans and pettigrew, potter and crouch…” james’ head fell to his hands in defeat.

“longbottom and mckinnon, y/n and snape…”

the four marauders and whipped their heads to you in mortification. lily saw their expressions and rolled her eyes. she patted your arm reassuringly. “aw, sev’s not so bad. he’s great at potions; you’ll be such a fantastic team!”

you smiled painfully at lily, nodding along. “yeah, i bet. thanks, lily.”

“…let’s get moving, folks! the group with the best potion will be exempt from the 3 page essay for homework.”

your eyes widened. you really wanted that exemption.

“severus!” you called out meekly. “hey, it’s good to see you… again.” the last time you’d seen snape was when he’d come looking for lily only to walk in on a conversation which mainly consisted of you airing out your distaste for the boy.

“do not call me severus.”

“a- alright then!” you tried your best to be optimistic. “shall i get the ingredients, or would you like to?”

“i’ll get them,” snape scowled. he dropped his voice to a bitter hiss.“i can’t deal with another incompetant muggle-born messing things up.”

you raised your eyebrows but remained silent. there was a time and place for picking fights, and it would do no good to sacrifice your potions grade over some carbon copy blood supremacist. plus, a bad grade would only fuel the misconception that muggle-borns were less capable.

snape returned, handling the ingredients like they were precious. “you can boil the water.” snape didn’t spare you a glance before beginning to cut up the ginger root. his cuts were slow and measuredd; snape sat back and examined his work smugly. when you glanced over at his handiwork, you scoffed. 

“it doesn’t matter how carefully you cut the ginger,” you sighed in disapproval, “if the pieces aren’t even.” you held up the two slices he’d cut, holding them in the air next to each other. “see, this one has a bump, which probably adds two or three grams. just because they’re the same length doesn’t mean they’re the same volume.”

snape narrowed his eyes at you. “do you really think i would’ve missed that? you’re not better than me. keep your little comments to yourself.”

you glared at him. “sure. why don’t you run and grab a scale, snape, and we’ll inspect your work.”

you were right: snape had cut the ginger pieces unevenly. you didn’t bother rubbing it in, knowing that just being proven wrong was a blow to his ego enough.

snape dropped the trimmed pieces into the cauldron and the two of you admired the nice green that the potion changed to. snape, who liked to remain emotionless, seemed to be surprised. you cheered internally. last class, slughorn had told snape his potion coloration was slightly dull. if it hadn’t been for your advice, this potion would’ve ended up the same way.

“armadillo bile,” you read off from the blackboard. “you can do that, if you want. i’ll prepare the scarab beetles.”

snape agreed, much to your surprise. you could hear snide comments from the back of the room emerge and snape’s willing compliance.

“taking orders from a mudblood, is he?”

“he’s such a humiliation.”

“dear salazar, bella would throw a fit if she was here.”

you paid them no mind. in fact, you found yourself enjoying the slytherins’ belittling of snape. they truly were gryffindor’s opposites; no loyalty to their follow housemates.

grinding the scarab beetles turned out to be an effective stress reliever. you fell into a comfortable rhythm with old mortar and pestle, almost missing the look remus flashed at you.

you caught his eye before he could look away, and remus mouthed, “how’s it going?”

you gave him an exaggerated look of distress in response. he covered his mouth, but you watched as his eyes turned into little crescent moons, indicating his laughter. you bit back a smile.

“quit whoring around with the half-blood,” snape spat. he eyed the powdered beetle shells disdainfully, and snatched the mortar from your hands. “merlin, you’re useless.”

you let snape sprinkle in the powder and from the corner of your eye, watched as he added more armadillo bile. you were reoccupied with watching the back of remus’ head as he bent over his steaming cauldron. remus waved a hand in front of his face to fan the steam from his eyes. his partner, mary, was giggling. their hands brushed as they both reached for more ginger root, and you found yourself tensing up.

“since you’re so particular about it, why don’t you cut up the rest of the ginger?” snape jeered, sliding the knife towards your side of the desk. you barely looked up before you began to cut. you could feel snape’s watchful gaze boring holes into your hands as he searched for any reason to ridicule you, but your hands were steady. you were confident in your potion-making abilities, and it showed.

“here,” you held out four nearly identical slices of ginger root to snape, and he picked them up from your palms delicately as if the slightest touch or brush over your skin would burn him like acid.

the potion turned a pale, buttery yellow. focused, deliberate clockwise spins of snape’s wand began to reveal a pigmented buttercup color. you tapped snape’s shoulder and he recoiled, but allowed you to take over the mixing. a couple more stirs and you were left with a rich ochre potion, which had reached a consistent temperature without much bubbling.

“this is wonderful; truly fantastic work!” slughorn commended, clapping his hands together. “you should be very proud of yourselves.” in your potion-brewing haze, you hadn’t realized that slughorn had already reviewed most of the class’ potions. james and barty crouch sat in front of a cauldron that seemed to be hissing, while frank and marlene high fived each other, satisfied with their average outcome.

“you may be dismissed! the two of you,” slughorn waved at you and snape, “please stay back. and miss evans, i’d like to speak to you as well. you’re not in trouble, don’t worry,” he chortled.

lily hurried to your side, taking your hand and squeezing it reassuringly. she seemed pleased to see snape and smiled at him kindly. snape nodded his head in response, his oily hair falling from where it’d been tucked behind his ear. he pushed it out of his face bashfully.

“as fifth year students, i’d like to invite you to what i call ‘the slug club.’ it’s named after me, see?” slughorn pointed at himself jovially. “i invite the most promising fifth, sixth, and seventh year students, and i’d like you all to attend. the three of you have demonstrated incredible ability in my classroom.

“now, i’m hosting the first slug club event of the year this sunday at eight in the spare room across from my office. it’s an important meeting; you’ll introduce yourselves and get to know each other. dinner will be served as well, so there’s no excuses! i expect to see you all there.” slughorn patted his belly happily and made his way back to his desk, excusing the three of you as he squeezed through the rows of tables.

lily was sprightly as she manuevered easily through the desks. you patted your satchel, making sure you’d packed everything up. snape, who was always in a rush to get out of the classroom, lingered.

you paid him no mind as you buttoned everything up and tightened your straps, slinging your bag over your shoulder. it clanked as it hit corners and sides of tables—fifth year textbooks were much thicker and heavier than the years before.

you could feel snape’s gloomy presence behind you, trailing along like the stubborn smell of smoke. he was going down the same row of tables you were, most likely to bother you. he was so close that you could feel his sticky breath on your neck; he smelled of salty sardines and wilted cabbage. you shuddered.

snape cleared his throat ostentatiously, and before you could move aside like any decent person would do, he shoved past you proudly. his bag, heavy laden with textbooks and other snape-y evil contraptions, hit your hip. the bag bounced off of your body and flapped open—he’d forgotten to fasten it—and out fell a small book. it thudded on the ground, but somehow, snape didn’t seem to notice. you didn’t think much of it; you weren’t inclined to chase him down and return it.

curious, you slipped it into your bag for further investigation.

the marauders were waiting for you outside the classroom. “what was that, thumper?” james slung an arm around your shoulder, leaning his body weight on you until your knees buckled. the two of you wobbled before james grabbed onto remus’ forearm and grounded himself.

“slughorn invited me to ‘the slug club. it’s for promising students,” you sneered mockingly. “please, what’s so promising about me? i’ve got a couple major felonies under my belt that i’ve yet to be prosecuted for?”

sirius laughed. “godric, i love you. where’ve you been all my life?”

“in the library, with remus.” you snuck a glance at the tall, brown haired boy to find him smiling down at you, eyes darting across your face.

“ugh, you two are so infuriating.” peter kicked his satchel, which had been lying on the ground, in annoyance.

“what?”

“why?”

“because,” peter droned, as if it was obvious, “you’re so perfect for each other. the two of you must be the smartest, stupidest blokes i’ve ever met.”

“that’s quite the oxymoron,” remus noted.

“see?” peter pointed. “proves my point!”

“i don’t understand why you haven’t just ki-”

lily saved you from a very awkward conversation. “y/n, babe!” she skipped towards you, elated. “you’re going to slughorn’s event, right? sev promised to be my date, and i think you should find someone too. it’ll be a blast!”

james sputtered. “sev? what the bloody hell is ‘sev?’” 

lily stared at him judgememntally. “…severus? sev, severus?”

sirius’ jaw dropped. “your date is snivellus?”

lily scowled. “how many times have i told you not to call him that? he’s not so bad—babe, tell them! he was nice during potions today, right?”

you stretched your lips into a thin, pained smile. “yeah, he was… civil.” you thought​​ that was a bit too generous.

“see?” lily sighed happily. “i don’t understand why you can’t give him a chance. he’s very nice once you get to know him, i promise.”

you nodded slowly, unconvinced. you looked at remus, who looked at james and sirius, who looked completely outraged.

“evans, please, don’t go with him. hey- hey! you could go with me! mcgonagall told me slughorn invited me too, during transfiguration. ditch snivellus, we’d have a much better time together,” james winked.

lily wrinkled her nose. “you’re rancid, potter.” she turned to you and her expression softened. “bye, y/n. see you later!”

“wait,” james paused, “you don’t have a date, right? will you be my date to slughorn’s… thing? pleaaaase, thumper?”

you grabbed james by the shoulders (which was admittedly a bit difficult, because he was much taller than you) and shook him. “no need to beg, prongs. i’m all yours.”

remus began tapping his foot.

taglist: check “about me” for more taglist info

@im-a-slut-for-fluff @bambamwolf87 @yourallihave @cowboibeepbeep @liszblog @springflwer07 @getawayfrommewerewolf @ilovehotdads69 @soumya-13 @emmaev @urgrandadsashes @girl-ln-green @vilentia @bibli0thecary @khayhuij @summer-noir

[scarlettriot]

Stood Up

You (Y/N) get stood up from a date and Kaminari decides to do something about it.

Pairing: Kaminari/F!Reader

Contains: Fluff, Flirty Denki, Established BakuSquad Friendship

Warnings: 18+ Below the cut, Minors DNI! Swearing, Electro-Stim, Overstimulation, use of pet names (cuddle bug & cutie), oral (F receiving), consensual recording

A/N: Well, here we are with the third in my Stood Up series. There is also Bakugo & Kirishima if you're interested. This one took me way too long and it's also my first time writing Kaminari at length. I hope you all like it :)

Word Count Starting Below: 2,461

You slipped your foot into the silver heels you had picked out. Something a little fancier since this was a first date after all and you wanted to make a lasting impression. Not only that but this was your first first date in a while. Being a Pro Hero made life busy and dating difficult.

Practically the entire day leading up to this very moment revolved around you either getting ready or babbling with excitement to your closest friends.

An alert chimed on your phone with a text from your date, a smile sliding onto your face expecting to read some message about how they were on their way and that they'd see you soon, but that wasn't what you were met with.

Instead, it was a screenshot of your Instagram page, multiple of them actually, all of you and the ridiculous photos you took with your friends but mostly with one Denki Kaminari. The most recent of which was from a tea shop he met you at just earlier that day so you could show him the shoes for your date.

The message below was simple and more than enough to leave a sour taste in your mouth, this isn't what I want to see when I'm supposed to be taking you out tonight. What, one date a day isn't enough? Why are you even dating? Does your blonde boyfriend know?

You giggled at what they were implying, quick to explain how these were all your friends, they had been since high school! They are people you spent what little free time you had with. Especially Denki, your best friend since you were 15!

That joy you felt started dissipating within the next few messages. You hadn't even had a first date and they were already jealous, and that was something you didn't have room for in your life. So, you slipped the heels off your feet and put them directly back in the box to return when you had the time. Tight black jeans and fitted top were exchanged with a hoodie and sweats although your makeup and hair stayed done, you didn't have the energy to undo your hard work.

Instead, you slid back into your computer chair, your headset snuggly back on your ears and before you notified everyone you were back online, you took a moment listening to the chatter of your friends.

"Shitty Hair! Fuckin' pay attention!"

"Yeah, man! We're getting slaughtered over here!"

"Less yelling at Kiri! More shooty shooty!"

"All of you are hopeless..."

Eijiro chuckled out an apology that was accompanied by a lighter giggle also coming from his mic. "Think this is gonna be my last round for a bit, guys."

"You're so fuckin' whipped." Bakugo scoffed, before screaming profanities.

"Is it whipped if I'm the one who's wanting to get her into bed though?"

You clicked your mic back on then. "Hey, remember last week when Kats forgot his push to talk so we all heard him getting head and we party whipped because someone couldn't focus?"

"You better shut the hell up right fucking now!"

Everyone else roared with laughter. "Yeah! At least I have the decency to mute myself!"

"Hey, wait a sec, why are you online, Y/N!" Denki noted, "You should have already left!"

You screenshot your messages to the group chat because it was far easier than just explaining the ordeal.

"Cute shoes." Eijiro and Kyoka commented at the same time.

There was a lull as their game ended and the messages were read.

"Ya don't need 'em if they're gonna have their head so far up their ass like this."

"I agree." Hanta chimed in. "They're not worth your time."

"Still, sorry they turned out to be a shit." You could hear the frown on Kyoka's face, "I know how excited you were."

"Right, you doin' okay, Y/N? I can stick around and we can all shoot some things!"

"Thanks, Kiri but I'll be just fine! Go spend time with your girl!"

One by one, everyone signed off. You pulled up Spotify and Stardew Valley, something of a comfort for you to get lost in for the rest of the night.

Less than an hour later, you noticed your phone lighting up with your best friend's familiar smiling face. "What's up, Denki?"

"Open your door! I have my hands full and don't wanna put everything down to get my key!"

You sprang from your desk and rushed to your door. Sure enough, on the other side was Denki with bags in both hands and his phone tucked between his ear and shoulder. You grabbed it and a bag before he had a chance to drop anything like the klutz he was. "What's with all this?"

"I feel bad."

"Why? You didn't stand me up?"

He fiddled with the edge of a paper bag. "Yeah, but, we both read those messages and no one said anything but they didn't just call our group out, they called us out.

"Denks, it doesn't matter to me-"

"But, it does to me! You were so excited about this and I got in the way, unknowingly but, still! So, I gotta make it up to you now!"

He pulled out take-out boxes from your favorite restaurant. Two bottles of your favorite wine. Your top three favorite movies and video games, and a board game you both had been meaning to try. "I mean, if they think I'm your boyfriend I kinda gotta live up to the hype, right?"

You really wanted to insist that none of this was necessary. That just because some person that neither of you really knew that well, assumed something about your relationship that didn't mean he had to blame himself for it.

But, you had to admit, this was really sweet. It shouldn't have come as a surprise to you that he knew everything you liked but it was nice. Instead of sitting across from a stranger, making awkward small talk, and trying to learn about one another, you were barefoot in your kitchen, laughing with your best friend while he plated dinner and you poured the wine.

Formalities were out the window. Both you and Denki were eating dinner in your living room, laughing and drinking just as you'd done a million times before. You snapped a photo of the delicious food on paper plates, toasting good times with your cheap wine, ready to post them to your Instagram.

"Gonna make them more jealous..."

"I think they made it pretty clear they don't want to see me so why should I care?"

He shrugged. "I just thought they might, you know, come to their senses that they obviously lost."

"I don't really care either way." You wandered back into your kitchen, putting away the leftovers, "They can forget I exist or they can stalk my page like a creep. If someones' gonna try and tell me I can't be friends with my friends or just not listen to me, then I don't want them in my life. No matter how good-looking they are."

Denki watched you from the sofa, a bit of a lopsided grin on his face that had butterflies taking flight in your stomach. "What?" Laughing to hide the bit of a crush you always had on the man. It was unavoidable you told yourself. His personality was infectious and had 15 year old you head over heels.

He pushed back bright blonde hair back off his forehead and just shook his head. "Nothin'. Uh, what's next? Video game, board game, or movie?"

You peaked on the counter at the options. "Well, we probably should have checked this but the board game needs at least four people to play... guess we'll have to save that for our next game night. Is a movie okay?"

Of course, it was.

You brought over the DVD with a refill of wine and he pulled a blanket down off the back of your sofa.

It really didn't take long, just fifteen minutes or so, and you were curled up into Denki's side. You'd make grabby hands for your wine glass and he'd pass it over with that damn grin again.

And not long after that, he'd pulled out his phone, angling it to take a picture of the two of you. "What are you doing?" You could see him on his own Instagram, tagging you, with the caption, Check out my cute cuddle bug.

"I thought you didn't want to make them more jealous."

"I decided I don't care either. You're mine tonight, their loss. And since you're mine tonight, I get bragging rights." He snapped another quick picture of you rolling your eyes at him, and then he kept snapping them.

"Denki! Why!"

"Because you're cute, cuddle bug! I like having all the pictures of you that I can!"

Even as you tackled him back down on the sofa, pinning him below you, he still managed a photo. "Bet if I post this one, they'll really get the wrong idea."

You could have moved. You were the one on top of him and you had his arms above his head. You had the power here and yet you just lingered above him.

"Y/N? Not that I'm one to complain about having a beautiful person such as yourself pinning me down, like, it's kinda hot, but..." Looking down into half-lidded golden eyes, you wondered why you had to become best friends with such a damn flirt! "Are you gonna take advantage of this situation we're in or are we just gonna keep dancing around this for another decade or so?"

You couldn't have heard him right? No... no this was your brain playing tricks on you because he certainly hadn't had that much wine tonight. You sat upright on his lap. "Another decade then, Y/N?"

"You- ha- you should stop that, Denki."

He leaned up, moving his arms around you, "Gimme a good reason to and I will."

You didn't have one. And not just because you've been in love with him for ten years but also because he was your best friend. The only reason to not go through with it was the possibility of losing your friendship if something bad were to happen but, you really didn't think anything would.

Denki might have been a serial flirt but he was surprisingly loyal in all the relationships he'd been in, not that there had been all that many serious ones.

"I'm not hearing anything." He teased, his face getting closer to yours. You could count each and every one of the faint freckles that littered the balls of his cheeks and the bridge of his nose. "But, I promise, if you tell me no, I'll stop, won't push this any further."

This whole thing seemed like a frickin' whirlwind, happening faster than your brain could really process the situation but you didn't want it to stop either. You wanted to take it further, didn't want to say no.

Which was why you coiled your arms around his neck and kissed him deeply. There was that small little buzz of electricity that tickled your lips when he'd kiss your nose or cheeks that was now playing on his lips, on his tongue when you welcomed him in.

He leaned back again, pulling you with him until you were both a pile of needy hands and breathy pleas. Everywhere his hands roamed you felt that faint trail of shock against your skin, making the little hairs on your body stand on end.

Clothes were shed, tossed haphazardly around your living room, both of you pausing to laugh when Denki managed to land your hoodie over a lamp. His attention was drawn back to you quickly though, still perched on top of him but now he had your chest on full display since you'd forgone a bra when your date canceled.

Electrifying tongue twirled around your nipples, sensitive normally, now it felt like you knew what it was like when he fried his damn brain. He was eager, relentless even, pulling and sucking, another hand giving your other breast a similar treatment. He had you so focused that you let out a broken moan when slender fingers found their way into your panties.

"Fuckin' hell, Denki."

The bastard winked up at you, nipple still between his lips and before you could retort, he sent another small jolt through you.

You were blatantly grinding down on his hand, reaching behind you, you found him completely solid, barely being contained in the tight black boxers he wore. You had enough sense to tug them down and wrap your hand around him making his teeth sink into your soft flesh, whining when you stroked him.

"Y/N..." He whimpered, his hand momentarily distracted from his ministrations gave you enough time to shift in his lap to scoot forward putting his cock in front of you. In one swift motion, you had his length between your slick. "Oh fuck, cutie!" Golden eyes were squeezed shut while you moved along him, feeling that pleasant curve he had, you could only imagine what it was gonna be like to have him inside you.

"You're being a little tease, ma-makes me wanna do all sorts of things to y-you."

He was kissing your neck, your chest, shoulders, and arms, anywhere on you that he could reach. His hips bucking up into you, just trying to hit that perfect angle.

Strength and agility were something most overlooked when it came to Denki Kaminari but when the man wanted something bad enough, he found a way to get it.

He had your ass rising up in the air with a harsh thrust of his hips and a small squeak from you, giving him exactly enough time to scoot down on the sofa so you were sat atop his face. If you complained, he didn't hear you. Denki already had your thighs around his head and his tongue devouring you completely.

Little shockwaves rocked you while you cried out his name, hands fisting blonde locks just trying to stay upright.

One orgasm from you apparently wasn't enough, neither was two but on the third, Denki finally relented, allowing your heartrate to come back down and your gasping breaths to come in more steadily.

You slid back down his body, his erection now smack against your ass. His hair was recked, face completely flush but he had the biggest grin on his face that you'd ever seen.

Denki kissed both your cheeks, "You are so amazing, cutie!" Kissed your lips, "You taste better than anything I've ever had!" And one more on the tip of your nose. "Doin' okay?"

You nodded, starting to really gather yourself again, and by this point, you really just wanted one thing.

"I wanna... Denks... can I take care of you now?"

"Sure, cutie! How do you want me?" The wiggling eyebrows had you rolling your eyes and pushing him on his back again.

It took little effort for you to position yourself above his cock, and with how slick you were, his bright pink head slipped right inside. He held your hands while you scrunched up your face, sliding all the way down him until he was completely sheathed within.

The curve was immaculate. Hitting in just the right way that had you moaning with just a couple thrusts from him. Before long, you were eagerly bouncing on his cock. Riding him hard so he filled you up each and every time.

You barely registered him reaching for the coffee table, his phone now in his hands. "What're you doin'?" You practically slurred, slowing only slightly. He tapped the camera lens with a wicked grin. "Seriously?"

"We could make 'em really jealous now..."

Somewhere in your brain, you knew your date wouldn't give two shits, in fact, this probably would have only validated their thoughts about your's and Denki's relationship but with his cock stuffed so deeply into you, kissing your cervix in the most beautiful way, you really didn't give a damn.

You and Denki put on the best possible show you could think of. You were overstimulated, sore, and completely elated! He balanced the phone against the wine bottle so neither of you had to try to hold it.

This way he could play with your breasts or squeeze your thighs while you dug half-moons into his chest. Shocked with the playful zaps he sent right to your core.

Your makeup you'd didn't feel like taking off now ran down your cheeks with tears. Your hair was a mess thanks to him pulling at it.

Denki had you howling through another two orgasms, telling you how perfect you were, how nice you felt squeezing him so tightly, your nails felt so good against his skin.

It was only when you collapsed against his chest did he hoist your hips up so he could ram into you, pulling out just at the last second with a strangled cry of your name.

He wiggled himself free, grabbing a towel from your bathroom and cleaning you both up before stopping the recording.

"You're, hey you're gonna send that to me right?" You asked when he handed back your hoodie off the lamp.

He dropped a kiss on your lips, plopping down beside you on the sofa again and you noticed your email already up and the video uploading. "Obviously, we share all our videos and photos. Why would this be different?"

[study-coffee-chicago]

Overprotective (A Halstead Brothers + Halstead Sister! Imagine)

A/N: This was a request from an anon who wanted overprotective Jay and Will and angst and fluff! So, I hope I did your request justice! 

Thanks for reading! Remember to like/reblog and comment! I love reading your comments because they put a smile on my face!

Thunderstorm (age 7)

It had been six months since your mom died. Jay was back from his second deployment and was now a police officer and Will was in New York for what you called doctor school. And your dad, well he was here in Chicago with you physically, but not mentally.

You whimpered as you hugged your teddy bear--whom you had affectionately named Officer Chuckles after you heard someone call Jay that at a picnic for police and their families--tight to your chest. The thunder was really loud and you swore it was shaking the house. And, to make matters worse, your dad wasn't here; he had left his seven-year-old daughter alone at home, during a thunderstorm, at 11:30 at night.

Your mom had loved thunderstorms and she'd always watch them as they rolled in. If it was morning, she'd sit and drink her coffee on the front porch while she watched them and listened to the rain drum down on the roof. If it was nighttime, she'd have something called wine, which she told you that you couldn't have until you were older, and do the same thing.

Because of this, every time there was a thunderstorm and your dad wasn't working, he'd always go to the cemetery to visit your mom. You didn't know what he did there. You just knew that every time there was a thunderstorm, you'd just be that much more scared.

Your mom used to comfort you when there was a thunderstorm; she'd tell you that the thunder was just a giant up in the sky bowling and that he just got a strike. But, your dad wouldn't really comfort you because he'd just leave. And, there was only so much Officer Chuckles and huddling in your blankets could do for you.

"We gotta call Jay," you whispered to your bear. "He'll know what to do."

So, you gripped Officer Chuckles in your little hand and then made your way into the kitchen. You jumped as more lightning and thunder cracked across the sky.

You flicked on the light and picked up the phone. You looked at the number on the fridge and carefully dialed it and then hit the "talk" button. Then, you listened to it ring while little whimpers of fear escaped your mouth.

"Dad? Why are you--" You jumped and a small scream came out. "Y/N? Kiddo, what are you doing up? It's late."

"I- I'm scared," you said quickly and ran back to your room with Officer Chuckles and the phone still in your hand and pressed up to your ear.

"Because of the thunder?" Jay asked gently.

"Uh-huh," you answered as you buried yourself back under your covers. "Daddy's not here and-and it's really loud."

"Dad's not there?"

"He went to see Mommy." You squeaked as more thunder came.

Jay cursed on the other end of the phone and hoped you didn't pick up on it. "Y/N, I will be there in ten minutes, okay? I just want you to stay in your room until I get there. Can you do that for me?"

"Uh-huh. But please come fast, Jay Jay. Me and Officer Chuckles are really scared."

"I'll come really, really fast. I promise. Now, I have to put down the phone so I can drive. But I promise I'll get there really fast. I love you."

"I love you, too, Jay Jay."

***

Jay cursed himself as he drove as fast as he could towards his childhood home. He didn't even speed, just tried to go the speed limit. But, it was downpouring so hard that he had to slow down so that he didn't hydroplane and get into a car accident. He didn't need that right now and you definitely didn't need that right now.

Jay walked up the front porch--forgetting his umbrella in his car because he was so focused on getting to you--and then found the spare key under the flower pot. The flower was fake; there's no way your dad could keep a plant alive.

"Y/N?" he called out as he slipped off his shoes once he was inside. "It's me. It's Jay Jay."

Thunder cracked across the sky and Jay swore under his breath and then took off running to your bedroom.

There, he found you huddled underneath your comforter clutching Officer Chuckles to your chest and resting your head against him. Your small night light was the only thing giving off light in your room.

"Y/N," he whispered, causing you to jump. "It's okay, it's just me. It's Jay," he said quickly and then flicked on your bedroom light.

Now that everything was bathed in light, you jumped out of bed without hesitating and held tightly onto Jay. "It's too loud! It's too loud!" you wailed as your fingers clutched the bottom of his shirt.

"I know, I know," he soothed and gently rubbed your back while you continued to cry. "But remember what Mom said? It's just a giant up in the sky bowling."

"Well, he needs to play a quieter game."

Jay laughed at that. "I mean, we could try to tell him that, but I don't think he'd listen since he's way bigger than us." You nodded in agreement. Jay crouched down in front of you, seeing as you had finally let go of him. "Y/N, can you grab me your most favorite backpack?"

"Why?" you asked, tilting your head to the side. "It's nighttime, not school time."

Jay smiled at your innocence. "I know. But, you're gonna come over to my house and we're gonna have a sleepover."

"Like we do on some weekends?"

"Just like that."

More thunder.

You grabbed onto Jay's hand. "You come with me to get my backpack in the living room?"

Jay nodded. "Of course."

Once you were back in your room, Jay started grabbing some clothes for you and you grabbed your favorite blanket and Officer Chuckles. Then, something dawned on you. You were always supposed to tell your daddy if you went somewhere.

"Will Daddy be mad?"

Jay turned away from your dresser and to look at you. "Why would he be mad, kiddo?"

"Because I'm not- I'm not telling him I'm having a sleepover with you."

"Oh, he knows."

"You talked to him?"

"I called him on the way here." Well, he sent him a strongly worded text message, but that was basically the same thing. All he needed to know was that you were coming to his house since you were scared of the storm (not to mention you were seven years old and you shouldn't be home alone in the first place). He hadn't answered the text yet, but at least he'd know where you were.

"Okay. Will you come with me to get my raincoat, too?"

Jay had just finished putting the last of a pair of clothes in your backpack. "I think we can grab that on our way out. Good thinking, kiddo."

He shouldered your little backpack and took your blanket from you so that it wouldn't drag on the wet ground when you walked outside. Then, you put on your rain boots and raincoat at the front door and clutched Officer Chuckles super tight and walked out to Jay's car, and started on your way to his apartment.

***

"Hold my hand when we walk through the parking lot, okay?" Jay said as he pulled into the parking lot of his apartment building.

"Okay."

He put the car in park and then turned it off and got out, quickly opening an umbrella he had stashed in his passenger seat. Then, he made his way over to your side of the car and helped you out and grabbed your backpack, and slung your blanket over his shoulders. You held tight to Officer Chuckles with one hand and held Jay's hand with the other while you two walked into his apartment building, the umbrella Jay was holding with his opposite hand shielding you from the rain.

Once you were inside, you handed Jay your raincoat and he hung it up on the rack because you couldn't reach it.

Jay started digging around in your backpack for the spare pair of pajamas that he had packed for you. "Okay, Y/N, why don't you go put on these nice comfy pajamas--"

"Because mine are kinda wet?" you asked and looked up at your big brother.

"Yes, because yours are kind of wet," Jay confirmed. "And then after, we can go to sleep, okay?"

Thunder cracked again and you jumped.

"Hey, hey, it's okay," Jay said and crouched down in front of you. "I promise you nothing bad will happen."

"You promise?"

"I promise," he confirmed with a nod of his head.

You turned to go change your clothes, and then remembered something. "Can I sleep with you tonight?"

"Of course."

After you changed into dry pajamas, you put your dirty ones in your backpack and left the bathroom to see Jay sitting on the couch waiting for you. "Ready for bed?" he asked.

You yawned. "Uh-huh."

Jay glanced at the clock. It was nearing 12:30 am. There was no way you were going to go to school after six and a half hours of sleep. So, he had a plan. And that plan involved iHOP.

Once you got into bed, you tried to fall asleep, but you couldn't. Jay noticed this when you jumped at the thunder. So, he grabbed your little hand in his and squeezed. You then moved closer to him and buried your head in his chest. You knew you were safe from the thunder because your big brother was around and he was big and strong and would protect you from anything. So, you soon fell asleep after, ending your very long night.

***

You rubbed your eyes as you walked out of Jay's bedroom the next morning, Officer Chuckles in your hand dangling by your side.

"Morning, sleepyhead," Jay said.

You looked at the clock. 8:30. "Don't I gotta be at school?" you asked, scrunching up your eyebrows which Jay thought was the cutest thing ever.

"Not until after lunchtime," he told you. "You were up really late, so I wanted to let you sleep. And, so we can go out for breakfast."

"Really? Where?" you asked excitedly, almost dropping Officer Chuckles because you were absolutely buzzing with excitement.

"That is a surprise. Now, how about you go get dressed and brush your teeth and brush your hair, and then we can get going, okay?"

"Okay!"

Then, you scampered off and did just what Jay told you to do. You wanted to know what the surprise would be!

Once you were all done, you and Jay left, and on the ride to the place where you were going for breakfast, you kept asking where you'd be going. But, Jay just wouldn't let up. But, then you saw the big blue sign and knew exactly where you were headed.

"iHOP!" you exclaimed. "Smiley pancakes! Smiley pancakes!" You looked at Jay as he turned into the parking lot. "Can I get the smiley face pancakes? Please, Jay Jay?"

Jay smiled at your excitement. "Yes, you can get the smiley face pancakes."

"Yay!" you cheered.

After breakfast and going back to his apartment to get your school stuff that he had packed in your backpack last night, Jay brought you to school.

When he got back to his apartment, he started making phone calls and cashing in favors.

A month and a half later, Jay officially had guardianship of you.

***

Beach fight (age 14)

"It's so hot," you whined as you walked out of your room in the middle of summer and into the kitchen. You looked at Jay who was drinking coffee out of a mug. "I don't get how you can drink hot coffee. It's too hot out for that."

"You--" Jay took a sip of his coffee.--"are such a drama queen."

"But I'm a queen, so I'll take it."

Jay rolled his eyes. "Wonder where you got the quick comebacks from."

"Just a tall, red-headed doctor. Definitely not you."

"You're funny, kid. Real funny." Jay's phone buzzed. He furrowed his eyebrows. Then it buzzed again and he made eye contact with you and tilted his head to the side. "You texted Will about a beach day? And said that I said it was okay?"

"Uh-huh. You aren't the only Halstead sibling who can be sneaky you know."

"Normally, normally I'd be pissed. But, it's scorching out. So I'll give him a call. Go start getting ready and wear your swimsuit under your clothes so we don't have to change there."

"Yes! Thank you, Jay! Love you!" You gave him a quick hug.

"Yeah, yeah. You never love me more than when you get your way."

Then, you went off to your room to get changed.

***

"Will said he'd be right here," Jay muttered as he looked at his phone for the millionth time in ten minutes. Will and Jay had set up a spot to meet, but Will was running late.

Then, Will's familiar car pulled in and he parked. "Sorry I'm late," he started as he stepped out. "Had to pick up some groceries." He held up the six-pack of beer. "Can't have a beach day without alcohol."

Jay rolled his eyes. "Uh, yes, you can. And both of us are driving home." He turned to you. "Y/N, you're gonna have to make sure each of us only drinks two. I should be fine, but I don't know about him here."

"Hey!" Will exclaimed and then smacked Jay upside the head with his free hand.

You rolled your eyes and grabbed your beach chair and your drawstring bag with your towel and your book from Jay's truck. Jay grabbed the cooler, his bag, and his chair. Will grabbed his stuff and then the three of you were off.

***

You had waded in the water and read your book for a bit while Will and Jay chatted about some mutual cases they had come across while drinking their beer and eating snacks. You were snacking on your cheddar popcorn, (which Will had affectionately picked up a bag for you when he went to get beer because he knew it was your favorite) when you realized something: the boys had a drink other than water but you didn't.

You debated which brother would allow you to buy something from the coffee cart up by the entrance to the beach.

Will won.

"Will," you said sweetly and turned around to look at him.

"Uh oh," Jay said. "That's her I want something voice. Don't give in. Be strong."

Will rolled his eyes. "Yes, Y/N?"

"I was thinking--"

"It's worse than I thought!" Jay exclaimed. "She's thinking!"

You scowled at him and turned back to face Will. "I was thinking that since you two have something other than water to drink and I don't, could I maybe get something from the coffee cart? Please?"

"Yeah, sure. Why not?"

"Dude! She's fourteen! She shouldn't be drinking caffeine...especially not at noon!" Jay protested.

"There's this thing called decaf coffee, Jay."

"There's this thing called decaf coffee, Jay," Jay mocked. "Shut up, Will."

Will rolled his eyes. "Anyway, I have to go to the bathroom, so I'll walk up with there with you and just give you money and meet you back there." He looked at Jay. "Are you okay with that? I know you hate when she's out of our sight in super crowded place like this," he asked Jay.

"I do not do that!" Jay argued. You and Will gave him a look. "Fine. Maybe I do. I just see a lot of stuff that I never want her to be involved in. Just, make sure you give Will his change back."

"I will," you said. After all, you were in a swimsuit, not that there were pockets there for you to stash your big brother's change like you normally did and then keep it for yourself.

You and Will made your way up the beach to the entrance where he handed you a ten-dollar bill and you two split up. He went straight to go to the bathrooms and you took a slight right to go to the coffee cart.

Will had said on the walk up not to wait for him and to just go back to Jay. So, you ordered your decaf iced mocha caramel latte, took the four dollars and something cents in change, got your latte, and started to walk back to Jay.

That was, you walked until you heard it.

A catcall.

You pretended you didn't hear it, that it was directed at someone else.

But then, "Babe with the coffee." You stopped walking. "I know you heard me. C'mon, show us that pretty face of yours."

Your eyes widened as you swallowed and your lip started to tremble. You knew you should just make a run for it, but you knew that in running in the sand with your hands full, that you'd just end up face planting and getting a mouth full of sand.

"Aw, c'mon baby. I've got friends, too. You don't like me, maybe you'll like them. We'll like you either way."

You wanted to smack yourself at what came out of your mouth next. You turned around. These guys were probably 23-25 year-olds and there were three of them. They were way taller than you and you knew that they'd easily be able to overpower you. But, you said the first thing that you thought would make them back off.

"I have a boy--". You cleared your throat. "I have a boyfriend."

"I don't see no boy." He turned to one of his friends. "Do you?" The other guy shook his head.

Where the fuck is Will?

"Take my money. Just, leave me alone."

You held the money out to the man, but instead of taking it, he grabbed your wrist instead. Hard.

You dropped your coffee, the plastic cup breaking in the sand and making the cold, sweet liquid form a puddle.

"How cute, boys. She's paying us, normally we'd be paying her!"

From down on the beach, Jay was watching from afar. He saw some guys walking towards you and at first, he assumed that they might've been older siblings of some kids you knew at school or something like that.

Then, he noticed your rigid posture and stood up.

He started walking toward you.

You held your hand out and the guy grabbed your wrist.

Jay started running.

"Just, let me go and we can pretend this never happened," you said, borrowing a line you had seen in movies multiple times...not that it ever worked in those, but maybe it'd work in real life.

"No can--"

"Hey!"

Oh, thank God for Jay.

"You the boyfriend?" he asked rhetorically. "She's gotta be sixteen then. How is she?"

"For your information, I'm the brother. And, it'd be in your best interest to let go," Jay growled.

"Three on one. This should be fun." The guy shrugged.

"Listen, man. I really don't feel like doing this here. So just, let her go."

He tugged you closer to him and you yelped, your front hitting his chest.

You squeezed your eyes shut.

You felt arms wrap around you and pull you away from the random guy's chest and you screamed.

"You son of a bitch!" Jay yelled.

You opened your eyes to see that Will was the one who had run up and pulled you back, your heart still beating out of your chest.

"Jay, he's not--" Will tried, but it was no use.

Jay threw the first punch.

The guy's head flew back and he fell to the ground. The guy tried to throw a punch from there, but Jay easily dodged it. Then, he threw three more hits to his face.

Will turned his head away from the fight at the sound of shitty sirens. "Fucking hell, Jay! Security!"

He didn't stop.

"Jay!" you yelled.

Now, this caused him to stop for a second...right as security pulled up next to him.

Jay looked up.

"He threw the first punch!" the man yelled to security before Jay could even explain the situation in its entirety.

"And you harassed my sister, so I think me punching you was warranted!" Jay argued. He turned to security. "Jay Halstead, CPD detective with the Intelligence unit."

The two beach security guards shared a glance. One sighed. "Okay, to make this easier, we won't call the cops because apparently, he is one. But, both of you are banned from the beach."

"What?" the guy bellowed. "You're not even going to ask him for some identification? Unbelievable!"

"I can easily go grab my badge from my car, officer," Jay suggested.

"That won't be necessary," the security guard said. He turned to you. "Miss, did he hurt you in any way?" You held out your hand to show him your wrist, which was red and you knew you'd have bruising on it tomorrow. Then, he turned his attention back to the guy who had been harassing you and his two friends. "You, come with me. Unless one of your buddies wants to cop to being the one who did the harassing?"

The two other guys held up their hands in a sign of surrender and backed up.

"What?" the guy yelled. "I need medical attention! I probably need stitches!"

"And we can have someone do that for you, but you need to come with us." He pulled out a pair of zip ties and got them on the guy's wrist...not without him giving the security guards some difficulty, though. He turned his attention back to you and your brothers. "I take it back, Detective, you're not banned."

Jay gave him a curt nod of thanks.

"What?" the guy yelled as the security guard started walking, taking the creeper away from you and your brothers.

"Keep it moving, buddy. Keep it moving."

"Let's get outta here," Will suggested.

You and Jay agreed, and then the three of you went to grab your stuff from where it previously was at the beach.

***

You had ridden back home with Will instead of Jay since he needed some time to cool off...and call Voight to make sure that the asshole actually got some jail time or something. Basically, Jay needed Voight to make sure that the beach security was actually doing their job.

The two of you made your way into the apartment (Jay had given Will a key and Will had given Jay a key to his apartment also. You didn't bring your key because you thought you'd be riding home with Jay, but then everything popped off.). Then, Will immediately went into doctor mode.

"Go change into some clothes and then I'm gonna take a look at that wrist," he told you.

You nodded and quickly changed into a pair of comfy shorts and a t-shirt. Then, you made your way to the kitchen table where Will was waiting expectantly. You sat down a sighed.

"You okay?" Will asked as he stopped unzipping his medical bag that he always kept in his car in case of emergencies and gave you his full attention.

"That was terrifying. I just, I never would've thought that would happen."

"And it shouldn't have happened. You're fourteen; you're just a kid. It shouldn't happen to an adult, much less a kid." You nodded. "Can I see your wrist?"

You held it out to him and he gently pressed on it and began to inspect it. "You know," you started, "I thought you'd be patching up Jay. Turns out that ass- that guy's friends didn't want to get involved."

"I wouldn't either," Will agreed. "There's no way I'd want to be one the receiving end of a fistfight with Jay. And, for the record, that guy was an asshole." Then, he started talking about the subject at hand. "Well, good news is that it isn't broken...but we already knew that. Bad news is that there will be some slight bruising, so we need to ice it."

"Okay."

Will got up to get some ice from the freezer when Jay walked in...holding a bag of groceries.

"What's that?" you asked.

"Well, I figured we'd get ice cream after the beach, but since that didn't happen, I decided to pick some up." He set the bag of groceries on the table in front of you and started taking out pints of ice cream. "Superman for Will, Neopolitan for me, and cookies n creme for you."

Your eyes went wide as you saw the ice cream and quickly snatched up your pint. Jay laughed at your excitement.

"Still can't believe that Will's favorite is Superman," you mused.

"He's like a kid in an adult's body," Jay agreed.

"I heard that!" Will yelled and then came back with an ice pack and three spoons. "What can I say, I'm a sugar aficionado. Now, what movie are we watching?"

The three of you made your way over to the couch with your spoons and ice cream, you with your ice pack as well, and started to try and agree on a movie.

Sometimes, you hated that Jay was so vigilant and that Will always had to take a look at something as small as a scrape, but today, those two things definitely came in handy. And, you couldn't be more thankful.

***

Migraine (age 16)

Oh here we go again, you thought as you sat in your American history class and felt the pounding in your head coming on. You had had a slight headache this morning but had a feeling it was going to turn into something more since all of your headaches lately have been turning into migraines almost every other day for the past week. For a few weeks, you'd been having headaches and they started out not too bad, a small dose of Tylenol would fix them. You assumed they were just stress headaches from school. But, then they started making the sides of your head pound and making you sensitive to light or nauseous. And right now, you felt a really bad one coming on.

Forty-five minutes later, you had gotten out of your history class and were on your way to biology. But, you were in the midst of the worst migraine of your life. Your head was pounding, everyone seemed to be talking right in your ear, and the lights were way too bright even when you squinted.

You had to go home. You couldn't stay at school any longer.

So, you went to the office and explained this and then called Jay.

"Hello? Y/N, aren't you supposed to be in class?" he asked when he answered.

"My head hurts really bad, Jay. Please, can you come pick me up?" you asked.

"I can have someone drop off some Tylenol," he suggested.

"No," you whined. "It hurts so bad. The light hurts my head and people talking hurts my head. Please, Jay."

You were practically pleading and even though Jay knew that you had a geometry test today, he agreed.

"Okay, I'll email your math teacher about the test."

"Oh. I forgot about that." You hissed as the late bell rang, causing your head to pound even more for those few seconds.

"That bad, huh?" Jay asked, having heard the bell chime on his end of the phone.

"Uh-huh. But, I can't drive home."

"Okay, and I can't pick you because I'm meeting with a CI. You okay if Adam picks you up and brings you back to the district? Then, me and someone else can go pick up your car from school later?"

"Okay. Why can't I just go home?"

"Because, if you're feeling as crappy as you say you are, then I'd prefer that someone has eyes on you. I'll see you in a bit."

"Okay, bye Jay."

Then, you hung up, told the secretary you'd be leaving so that she could send an email to your teachers, grabbed your stuff from your locker, and came back to the office to wait for Adam.

***

Twenty minutes later, Adam walked into the office.

"Hey, kiddo. I'm gonna sign you out and then we'll get you out of here, okay?" You had balled up your sweatshirt and were using it as a pillow and had your eyes closed. But, you cracked them open and nodded. Adam knew this definitely wasn't you lying to get out of a test because usually, you'd tell him not to call you kiddo, seeing as you were sixteen.

Adm showed his ID to the secretary and then he signed you out. You stood up and your head started pounding even more due to the sudden change in posture.

"Here, I can take your bag," Adam offered and you handed him your backpack.

"Thanks," you said quietly.

Then, you made your way to Adam's Jeep and got in the backseat. Not even two minutes into the trip to the district, you knew you couldn't take the music that was playing from the radio...even though you knew it was lower than he normally played it.

"Adam?" you asked, your head now resting on your balled-up sweatshirt as you tried your best to lay down while still buckled up in the backseat.

"Yeah?"

"Can you turn off the music? It really hurts my head."

"Of course." Then, he quickly turned off the radio and the two of you rode in silence the rest of the way to the district.

Adam would be lying if he said he wasn't worried about you.

***

"Mini Halstead! What's--" Trudy Platt exclaimed when you and Adam walked into the district, but Adam quickly placed a finger to his lips as you whimpered at the loudness of her voice. "Sorry," she whispered. "You hungry?"

You shook your head. "Thanks, though."

The desk sergeant nodded. "Let me know if she needs anything," she directed to Adam.

"Will do, Sarge."

Then, the two of you made your way up the stairs and into Intelligence, not without the buzzer on the gate causing you to hiss at the pain it caused in your temples.

"Mini Halstead!" Kevin exclaimed, but Adam quickly put a finger to his lips as you whimpered at his loud voice.

Jay quickly made his way over to you. "Let's go into the break room, okay?" You nodded. Jay turned to Adam. "I can take her bag."

Jay took your backpack from Adam and then the two of you went into the break room.

"There's some Tylenol and water on the table for you," Jay said, fully expecting you to walk over and get it. But, instead, you just plopped yourself down on the couch. "Or, I can bring it to you."

He gave you the water and the two pills and you took them.

"Have you eaten anything since breakfast?" he asked.

You shook your head. "Hurts to chew."

"Okay." Jay paused for a moment. "I think I have a banana I brought with me in case I got hungry. Is that soft enough for you to chew? I want you to eat something."

"I guess," you mumbled as you laid down on the couch. "Just wanna sleep."

"I know, but I wanna get some calories in you before you do that. Can you just stay awake for like five more minutes?" You nodded. "Okay, I'll be right back."

Jay came back two minutes later with a banana and a blanket.

"Where'd you get the blanket?" you asked.

"I keep it in my truck for late-night stakeouts. Here." He handed you the banana and then set the blanket next to you. "I don't have a pillow, so your sweatshirt will have to do. You all set?"

"Yeah, gonna eat this and take a nap."

"Okay, I'll make sure Voight doesn't yell too much. This door's pretty much soundproof though, so you should be fine. Come get me if you need anything."

"Okay."

Then, you ate the banana, folded up your hoodie and put it under your head, and pulled the blanket over you, quickly falling asleep.

***

You woke up two hours later feeling too warm. Your migraine had subsided into just a headache...but you knew in a couple of hours, the migraine would probably be back after the Tylenol had worn off. And, it was still a decently bad headache, just without the light hurting your eyes as much.

But then, you had an idea.

Sometimes at home when you had headaches, you'd lay your head on the tiled floor of the bathroom because it was cold. Cold surfaces always seemed to help.

So, you looked out into the bullpen to see if anyone was there.

No one.

You picked up your phone to see a text from Jay saying that they had gone on a raid and would be back soon and that if you needed anything, to let Trudy know. He also said that he had let Will know what was going on and that he'd be at the apartment later tonight to check up on you.

You wrapped the blanket around you and then made your way out of the bullpen and into an empty interrogation room.

You sat down in the cold metal chair and held your blanket tighter around your body. Then, you laid your head on the cold metal table and relished the feeling of coolness on your head.

Yeah, this will help.

***

"I didn't do it! I swear!" a drug dealer that Trudy was holding by the arm defended himself while Trudy led him to an interrogation room.

"Not that I don't believe you," she started, "but I've heard that one before."

She walked into the interrogation room and her eyes went wide when she saw you lying with your head on the table, asleep.

"What's a kid doing in here? I don't know her!"

"Shut up," Trudy told him. "Come on."

Then, she pulled him towards the next interrogation room.

"Some officers will be in here soon to have a chat with you. Feel free to make yourself comfortable."

Then, Trudy left the room and closed the door, and made her way into the interrogation room where you were currently sleeping.

She knelt down beside you. "Y/N," she whispered. You didn't stir. She placed a hand on your shoulder. "Kid, wake up."

"Hmmm, no," you said, not even lifting your head up. "Wanna go home. Cold feels good on my  head."

Then, Trudy heard the buzzer to Intelligence go off. "I'll be back," she told you.

"Uh-huh," you said, closing your eyes once again.

Trudy walked into Intelligence and immediately set her sights on Jay.

"Halstead," she barked.

Jay quickly turned his head. "What can I do for you, Sarge?"

"You can explain to me why that sister of yours is currently taking a nap in one of my interrogation rooms because she says the cold feels good on her head and then get her out of there," she told him.

"What?" he asked, more confused than ever.

"Y/N's napping at the table in an interrogation room. I need you to get her out of there. I almost put a dealer in there."

"Why's she in there?"

"Like I just told you: she said the cold feels good on her head. But I need you to get her out of there. Now."

"Copy you, Sarge."

"Good choice, Chuckles, good choice."

Then, Jay made his way to the interrogation room that Trudy told him that you were in.

He squatted down next to you. "Y/N," he whispered.

"Feels good. Leave," you mumbled.

"You know I can't let you stay in here. We gotta get you back out into the break room. It's not safe for you in here."

"Don't care."

Jay huffed. "I know you don't, but I do."

You opened your eyes to see that Jay had turned the lights on all the way...compared to how dim you had them before.

Fuck, it had been a few hours since you had taken the Tylenol and it was wearing off.

You closed your eyes again.

"Y/N," Jay warned.

"Light hurts."

Jay sighed. "Okay, I'll dim the lights and I'll be right back."

Jay dimmed the lights and walked out of the interrogation room and into the bullpen once more.

"Why's she not out yet?" Voight asked.

Jay rummaged around in his desk while he answered. "She said the light hurts her eyes, so I'm giving her these to wear." He held up a pair of sunglasses.

"Huh." Voight paused. "Take her home, Jay. You're done for the day. I don't expect to see you back here until Monday."

"Sarge, all due respect, but it's Wednesday and we're in the middle of a case."

"We'll be fine for one half-finished case without you, Jay. Y/N's family. Take care of her. Just think of it as of tomorrow, you get to have a four-day weekend."

"Can I get one of those four-day weekends?" Adam asked.

"No," Voight answered without skipping a beat. "Go take care of your sister, Halstead."

Jay nodded and then grabbed your backpack from the break room and then returned to his desk for his keys and jacket and then went back to the interrogation room.

"Y/N, we're gonna go home now," he whispered when he walked into the room.

"Yay," you said in a monotone voice and slowly lifted your head up and then rubbed your hands down your face.

"Put these on. They should help with the light."

You took the sunglasses from him and put them on. Then, you two slowly walked out of the room and outside of the district to his truck.

***

"So she's sensitive to light and sound?" Will asked Jay over the phone once Will had gotten off shift and realized his brother had called him concerning your headache.

"Yeah, pretty sure it's a migraine," Jay confirmed.

"She mention anything about nausea?"

"When we were driving home she did."

"Could also be that she started getting motion sick if it only happened in the car. I'll stop over and take a look. She eaten anything?"

"Just breakfast and a banana."

"Jesus, man. It's past five o'clock. She needs more than that!"

"I know, but she said it hurts to chew, so I didn't want to force her."

"Okay, I get it then. I'll pick up some food on my way. I'll get Panera Bread so I can get her some soup. Text me what you want."

"Okay, thanks, man. And Y/N likes--"

"--the cheese broccoli soup. I know, Jay, I know."

"Just checking."

Then, Jay hung up and started to look at the menu and then texted Will what he wanted. Now he just had to wait for Will to come over and hopefully fix you. Because Jay would be lying if he said he wasn't worried about you.

***

"Thanks for coming, man," Jay said as he opened the door. "God, she's making me really worried."

"Whoa, it must be bad if you're admitting you're worried," Will joked and then set the bag of food on the counter.

"Dude, she was napping in an interrogation room because she said the table was cold and it felt good on her head! Damn right I'm worried!"

"Okay, just...get the food out and I'll go check her out. Hopefully, I can figure out what's making her get all these headaches. She mention headaches before now?"

"Yeah, for about the past week, week and a half. But, they've never been this bad. And, if they were, she hasn't told me."

"Okay, thanks. I'll see if she'll tell me more. She's gonna be okay."

Jay nodded and then Will made his way to your bedroom.

He opened the door to see that you were sound asleep with your blinds closed all the way. You had your fan on and had earplugs in, so he assumed that just wanted the fan on for the cool air and not the noise...and the noise was the reason you usually wanted it on.

Gently, Will touched your shoulder.

"Go away, Jay," you mumbled and rolled over to face the wall.

"It's not Jay, it's--" Will sighed when he realized you wouldn't be able to hear him because of the earplugs you had in. So, he settled on shaking your shoulder until you opened your eyes and realized it was him and not Jay.

You took out the earplugs.

"Can you fix it?" you asked. Then, you whimpered. "It hurts so bad."

Your lip started to tremble. You didn't want to cry because you knew it would make your migraine worse, but you couldn't stop the tears; you were so sick of these damn headaches and this migraine.

"When did they start?" Will asked and turned off the fan.

"Three weeks ago," you answered.

"Jay said only a week and a half."

"I didn't tell him. I thought they were from school stress, but they won't go away. Make it stop! Please! I can't- I can't even think straight anymore, Will."

You put your head in your hands and rubbed your temples.

"Have you been eating a lot of different foods? Getting too little sleep? Drinking too much caffeine? Weird periods?"

"No, none of that." You wanted to tell him that it was weird having him ask you about your period, but your head hurt so bad that you refrained.

"Okay, well, I think Jay's got the food ready, so do you think you can manage some cheese broccoli soup from Panera?"

You shrugged. "Maybe a little."

"That's good enough for me. C'mon."

You grabbed a pair of sunglasses from your bedside table next to you and then followed Will out into the hallway and then put the sunglasses on.

"How you doing?" Jay asked as he finished pouring everyone water.

You shrugged. "Still hurts."

"I'm sorry, but the bottle says you can't have anymore Tylenol yet."

You nodded and sat down and slowly started to eat your soup, sunglasses still on.

You started to eat and then realized your soup was kind of cold. You stood up.

"Soup cold?" Jay asked.

You nodded and put it in the microwave.

Then, something clicked in Will's head.

Cold.

Temperature.

"Barometric pressure," Will muttered. Then he looked up, a smile starting to spread across his face. "Barometric pressure," he repeated, this time louder.

"Bara-what-now?" Jay asked.

"It's essentially the air pressure when the weather changes," he explained. "Remember when Y/N was in elementary school and would have really bad allergies in the fall?"

"Yeah," Jay said. "What's this got to do with migraines?"

"Migraines start around adolescence and since she had allergies in the fall before, I'm fairly certain that this is why she's getting them."

"You know why?" you asked as you sat back down, your soup now warm. "Can you make them stop?"

"I think I do. But, we'd have to get you checked out tomorrow."

"Okay. Thank you. Get me an appointment."

A few days later, after lots of naps, soup, and tv when your headache/migraine decided to subside, you were put on corticosteroids for what were called "cluster headaches" in the medical field. You're only supposed to be on them for about two weeks and then you'd have to be reassessed. But, for now, your migraines had subsided and you could finally, finally think clearly.

***

Sorry About your Truck (age 18)

You didn't know what was happening. One second you were driving on the circle of the on-ramp to the highway, and the next, you fishtailed to the right. You spun your wheel to the left, maybe slammed on the brakes (which you knew you weren't supposed to do), and then slid to the right again. It all happened so fast that you didn't even know how it happened.

But, you knew how you got in this position.

"Fuck," you muttered as you put your hand up to the vent in your car the day before you left for school. Even though it was set to defrost, you still should've been able to feel some heat coming out. But you felt nothing. Well, nothing but cold air.

You trudged back inside to see Jay putting on his jacket.

"I think my heat in my car's broken," you said.

Jay looked at you and raised his eyebrows. "You probably just didn't turn it on."

"Yes, I did. And I double-checked. Come see."

So, Jay walked out to your car. And sure enough, your heat was broken.

"I'll drop you off at school and then we'll bring the car to the shop tonight. C'mon," Jay told you.

"I have to work tomorrow until 11," you said. "How am I supposed to go to work?"

Jay sighed. "I'll figure it out."

Because, he knew for a fact he couldn't let you drive without heat...not in these Chicago winters.

***

"Jay, man, you gotta go to sleep," Will told his younger brother.

"Dude, it's getting icy out!" Jay argued over the phone. "I'm staying awake until she gets home!"

Will sighed. "Fine. I know there's no changing your mind."

"Thank you. Now, I'm gonna see if I can find a hockey game happening on the west coast and watch that. I'll text you when she gets home."

"I don't need you to do that, but if it makes you feel better, feel free. God, you need to make your cop instincts chill for once."

***

You screamed. You didn't know what to do. One second you swerved to the left and then you swerved to the right. You tried to correct yourself again and get back on the road, but it wasn't working...not like it worked last time when you tried to go back the opposite way anyway. But, now, oh now you were more terrified than before...if that was even possible.

You felt hot tears sting your eyes as you heard the sounds of metal ripping through metal. Then, you felt yourself tumbling. You didn't know if you were screaming at this point, but you felt your knee jam into the dashboard and the next thing you knew, you were upside down with only your seatbelt keeping you in place and the broken glass from the windows had left a smattering of cuts along your body, with the deepest one being on your forehead.

You kept flailing your arms, trying to do something, anything to get you out. And then you heard the sound of sirens and the snow around you started turning blue.

Great...you had found the button to turn on Jay's sirens. Just great.

"Help!" you yelled.

You hoped that someone would call 911....but according to these sirens, you were 911.

***

"Squad 3, Ambulance 61, Truck 81, Engine 51, Battalion 25. Single vehicle car accident. Person trapped."

"Single vehicle?" Casey asked. "Why do they need all of us?"

"Beats me," Severide said. "But we're about to find out."

***

"A cop car?" Kelly asked as he furrowed his eyebrows on the way to the scene.

"Guess so, Lieutenant," Cruz said. "Looks like an undercover car to me, too."

As they got closer, Kelly noticed something. He knew that truck.

"Casey," he said into his radio, "that look like Jay Halstead's truck to you?"

Casey tilted his head. "You know, it actually does. Dispatch," he started, "this is Truck 81 to Main, can you get in contact with the 21st District and see if Jay Halstead is on duty tonight and then get back to us?"

"Copy that Truck 81."

They all pulled up to the scene and Boden started directing everyone.

"Squad, we need to get that victim out. Truck, help Squad with figuring out how to get the victim out. Chances are we'll have to cut the car and need all hands on deck. Engine, I need you on standby in case there's a gas leak and a fire starts. Sixty-One, do all you can."

They all said their "copy that's" in some form or another and then Casey, Stella, and all of Squad 3 went over to look at the truck.

"Help!" you yelled. "Somebody help me, please!" At this point, the blood from your forehead was dripping all over the roof of the truck. At least, since you were upside down, the blood wasn't going into your eyes. But, tears were rolling down your cheeks. You were terrified and your knee was in so much pain from being crushed up against the dash and your head was starting to burn where you had been cut by the glass.

"Main to Truck 81, Jay Halstead is not on duty tonight according to the 21st."

"It's not Halstead!" Casey yelled. "He's not on duty!"

They all raced up to the truck.

"I'm gonna climb up to the window and see how the victim's doing. I'll tell you what we need from there," Kelly said.

Then, with the help of Cruz and Capp, he got on top of the rolled-over vehicle.

"Help! Please help me!" you yelled.

"We're gonna get you out, don't worry!" Kelly yelled once he was close enough that he knew you'd be able to hear him.

You knew that voice.

Kelly looked down into the truck to see you straining your neck to look out the broken window and up to him.

"Don't move!" he ordered. He had no idea whether or not you had sustained injuries to your spinal cord.

"O- Okay," you whimpered. "I'm scared, Kelly."

"I know, I know. But we're gonna get you out of here. It'll all be okay." He turned his head so that it was back facing Squad, Casey, and Stella. "Casey!" he yelled. "I need you to tell Boden to get in touch with one of the Halsteads! It's Y/N!"

***

"Hello?" Jay asked sleepily into his phone. He had finally taken Will's advice and had tried to go to sleep...with a Vegas Golden Knights vs. Colorado Avalanche game playing in the background since that was the NHL game that was happening on the west coast right now.

"Halstead, it's Wallace Boden. Are you aware that your sister was driving your truck?"

At this, Jay sat up straight, sleep be damned. "She was. Why? What happened? Is she okay?"

He stood up and started pacing the room.

"Jay, I'm going to tell you the location and I need you to call Will and you both need to get here ASAP."

"Chief, all due respect, but you need to tell me what's going on."

"Y/N's been in a car accident. It's a roll-over crash. She's currently stuck in the car but conscious."

Everything Jay learned about bad news from your mom and dad passing, to his time in the military, to him being a cop flew out the window in that very moment.

"She's been in a crash? Can they get her out? Tell me they're gonna get her out, Chief! They have to!"

"Jay, my men are doing everything they can. But right now, you need to call your brother and you need to get to this location as fast as possible."

"Okay, yeah, yeah. I can do that."

Then, Jay quickly hung up.

After calling Will four times in a row, he finally picked up.

"Dude, I'm about to be in surgery, what's--"

"Y/N's been in a car accident. We need to go there now."

Will almost dropped his phone.

"What? How? When?"

"I don't know, all I know is that Boden called me and told me to get to the scene ASAP. I'll pick you up on  the way."

Then, without waiting for Will's response, Jay hung up the phone and dialed a number he never thought he'd be calling off duty: his new partner, Hailey Upton.

"Hailey, it's Jay. I need a favor."

***

"Capp!" Kelly yelled. "We need to cut through the seat to get it off from the floor because that's currently the ceiling! Squad and 81, we need to cut the back of the truck so we can get her out of here! 51, figure out how to kill these sirens! And, Brett, I need you to come up here and take a look so you can tell me the best way to get her out of here!"

Sylvie Brett started sprinting over to the truck with her jump bag and then Casey and Cruz helped her onto the truck and Kelly gave her his hand to make sure she got all the way up there safely.

"Y/N, I'm Sylvie. Do you remember me?" she asked calmly.

"Uh-huh," you answered, trying your best not to move your head like had Kelly told you.

"I bet your leg hurts really bad, huh?"

"Not, not really," you answered.

Sylvie and Kelly shared a look. They knew what this was: you were going into shock.

"Hand me that flashlight," Sylvie said to Kelly. He handed it to her. "Yeah, she's tensing her leg muscles, which is probably why she can't feel it. She's still having an adrenaline rush since she seems to unconsciously tensing them. We'll still give her pain meds as soon as we can because when the pain wears off, it's gonna hurt.

"For now, I need to get a C-collar on her and when she gets out, I need her on a backboard and I need that leg in a splint. Try your best not to do any sudden movements that can hurt her leg even more than it already is. By the looks of it, I'm assuming she shattered her knee cap."

"Got the bolt cutters, Severide!" Capp yelled.

"Got the saw, too!" Casey yelled. "I think we should start by cutting the end of the truck, sound good?"

"Yeah, that works!" He took off his turnout coat and handed it to Brett. "Get in there, get a C-collar on her, and cover her with this while we cut the end of the truck. Close your eyes and cover your head with your jacket. Yell to me when you're ready."

"Why aren't you going in there?" Sylvie asked as she positioned herself to jump through the window and down into the truck.

"I don't think I could fit through that window."

"You never know," Sylvie said and then slipped down and into the truck.

"They're gonna cut it?" you asked frantically. "But what if they hurt me?"

"Y/N, it's okay. They won't hurt you. They're professionals. They've done this hundreds of times. But, I need you to stay calm for me. I'm gonna put this C-collar around your neck and cover you with this coat so that debris doesn't get in your eyes." She didn't mention the cut on your forehead and at the moment, she hoped you weren't feeling it.

Sylvie got the C-collar around your neck to stabilize it and then she put the turnout coat over you and pulled hers over her head. "Ready!" she yelled to Kelly.

You started hearing the sound of metal being cut. You could feel your heart pounding out of your chest, but at the same time, you couldn't feel anything at all.

***

"There it is!" Jay pointed from the passenger seat of Hailey's car. The hospital had been on their way to the scene, so they grabbed Will on the way. Jay was thankful because he knew that the hospital would be close if you needed to go there.

Will was practically standing up in the backseat so that he could jump out of the car as quickly as possible. He needed to make sure you were okay.

Hailey had barely put the car in park when both Halsteads jumped out.

"Chief!" Jay yelled. "Where is she?"

"She's still in the car. They're trying--"

"They're trying?" Jay yelled angrily, cutting Chief Boden off. "If she's not out yet and it's been this long then they sure as hell aren't trying! I swear to God if--"

"Jay!" Will yelled and stepped in front of him and gave him a shove to push him away from Boden. "You need to calm down!"

"Calm down? Don't tell me to fucking calm down! Our sister's in a roll-over crash and you're telling me to calm down?"

"I understand you're upset," Boden started, "but you two shouldn't even be here right now. And, if you don't want to be pushed back behind the yellow tape, I suggest you calm down."

Jay glared at Boden but kept his mouth shut.

Jay started walking away and then locked eyes with Stella. He picked up his pace. Will tried to pull him back because he had a feeling he knew what he was going to do, but he was too late.

"Stella!" he yelled. "What's happening? You gotta tell me what's going on in there. Please."

Stella sighed. She knew she shouldn't be doing this. But, she knew if it was anyone in her family, hell if it was Kelly or anyone else in Firehouse 51, she'd want to know what was going on, too.

"She's upside down, hanging from her seat. Her knee's jammed up against the dash. She's still conscious, but they have to get her out."

There was a loud creaking sound that caused everyone to turn their attention back to the scene.

They had sawed through the back half of the truck and were now going in.

"Casey, Kelly," Stella said into her radio, "can I get an update on the situation? Jay and Will are here and they just want to know."

"We just gotta get the chair down, Kidd," Casey's voice came from her radio. "She's still conscious. She's scared, but she should get out fine."

Jay looked up at the sky while Will sighed in relief.

You'd be getting out of there just fine.

***

The next few hours were a blur of you getting out of the truck and being taken by ambulance to Chicago Med (Will rode with you because of Jay's fear of needles), and you being in knee surgery.

Jay and Will had to wait outside while you were in surgery. And they were beside themselves.

"God, I shouldn't have let her take my truck," Jay vented as he was pacing the waiting area with his hands on his head.

"You couldn't have known it was gonna snow like this. It wasn't supposed to snow like this," Will comforted.

"How do you do it?" Jay asked.

Will furrowed his eyebrows. "Do what?"

"Stay so calm? Like, when we were at the scene, you were so calm when I was absolutely losing it."

"I don't know, I really don't. Maybe I realized that being pissed wasn't going to help anyone. But, when I heard Stella and Casey tell us what was going on, I knew she was going to be okay. There were no injuries to the abdomen, chest, or head--well, except for that laceration on her forehead--and she was conscious. I just knew."

"So you're telling me, you thought logically with medical knowledge?" Jay asked. He had absolutely no idea such a sophisticated sentence would ever make its way out of his mouth, but hey, there was a time and place for everything.

"That and I knew you'd be pissed, so I knew I'd have to at least be calm enough to calm you down...or hold you back."

"There it is."

***

You woke up an hour later. You blinked, trying to remember what happened, and then it all came rushing back. The fishtailing...the screaming...Kelly talking to you...the sound of metal being cut...

You took a deep breath.

This alerted your brothers that you were awake.

"Hey, how was being under?" Will asked jokingly. You had always asked what it felt like to be under anesthesia and Will said he couldn't really explain it; he said you'd just have to find out some time.

"It was a nice nap," you answered.

Will laughed. "I bet it was. Feeling better?"

"Tired," you yawned.

"Well, it is just past four in the morning, so that makes sense."

You looked at Jay. "I'm sorry about your truck. I was just going down the exit ramp and it happened so fast and--"

"Hey, hey," Jay said quickly and stood up. "It's okay. It's just a truck, it's replaceable; you, kiddo, are not."

Will smiled. "Borrowing a line from Mom's book when we both inevitably got in our first car accidents, I see."

Your finger started to move toward the stitches on your forehead.

"No, no, no," Will said quickly. "Don't touch them!"

You kept running your finger over them. "But they feel funny."

"That's because you haven't gotten them before. They'll feel even funnier if you pop one and me or someone else has to redo them."

Your stomach grumbled.

"Okay, what do you want to eat?" Will asked. He handed you a cup of water, too because he figured that if you were hungry, that you'd be thirsty as well.

You took a few sips and then answered. "Olive Garden."

Jay laughed. "Olive Garden isn't open at four am."

You pursed your lips to the side, thinking about what you wanted. "Pizza."

"I'll go have someone grab you some," Will said.

"Maybe send Adam because he can just call the cafeteria lady darlin' and then just like that,--" Jay snapped his fingers---, "she'll get an extra piece for free," Jay suggested.

"Adam's here?" you asked.

"Everyone's here," Jay answered. "They all wanted to make sure that you were okay...and the 21st also got called to see if I was on duty since it was my truck."

"If it makes you guys feel any better, I don't think I'll be driving for a while."

"That's okay. Voight gave me a few weeks off to look after you while you're recovering and I think Goodwin's letting Will cut down his hours."

"What he means Y/N, is that you'll be stuck with us telling you not to try to walk for a few weeks," Will said.

"Uh," you groaned.

Will and Jay both laughed. "I'm gonna go see if Adam can get you that pizza," Will said. He was almost out the door when he added, "you better not touch your stitches while I'm gone."

The next few weeks was a blur of doing all your schoolwork at home--and a lot of times, from the couch--, Jay and Will scolding you if you so much as tried to bend your leg, lots of movies and tv shows (and Jay and Will always let you pick because you couldn't really do much while you were laid up at home), and convincing Jay to buy you lots of Oreos and cheddar popcorn. And if he didn't...well, you'd just text Will (luckily you had insurance on your phone and could get a new one without paying a lot after the crash) and he'd bring you your Oreos and cheddar popcorn. After the first two weeks, Jay just had to live with the fact that he was outnumbered when it came to you and your favorite snacks.

***

Rough Shift (age 21)

Trigger warning for mentions of suicidal ideation!

You sat at Molly's finishing up your second pomegranate martini...and it was only 6 pm. You waved Stella over to have her make you another one.

"Y/N, I know you drove here. I can't in good conscience give you another drink. Hell, I didn't even want to give you the last one! But, I can get you a pop if you want? Or lemonade?"

"Stella," you whined. "I just want another drink. It's been a really rough day at work. Please, just make me another one."

"You know I can't do that. What happened at work? Maybe it'll help to talk about it. We've all had rough shifts before and talking about it or crying it out usually helps."

"I can't really cry it out right in the middle of a bar." You took a shaky breath. "Even though, I really wish I could." Tears started to sting your eyes. You couldn't cry. Not here. "I think I'm gonna go have that cry." You set some money on the bar. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it. And hey, if you ever need someone to talk to, Y/N, I'm your girl."

"Thanks, Stella."

Then, you left Molly's. But, you didn't go straight home. You decided to go to the store instead. And all you bought there was a bottle of peach Moscato.

Time to get buzzed enough to forget for the time being.

***

When you got home, you popped some food in the microwave since you hadn't eaten since basically breakfast save for some beef jerky and an apple, and unscrewed the cap to the wine you had just bought. Normally, you wouldn't buy a ton of alcohol for yourself because you'd just take Jay or Hailey's drinks if she brought any over (yes, you still lived with Jay because college is ridiculously expensive and you were trying to get out of school with as little debt as possible...if any), but those two were on a camping trip on Lake Michigan for the weekend. You were supposed to go, but then you had to work. So, Will ended up going instead. He said maybe he'd meet a girl up there and you just laughed.

You took a few sips of your wine and then realized that maybe you should call your brothers. You knew this wasn't healthy and you felt like everything was coming down on you at once: the stories you heard at work, being in the hospital, currently just being physically and emotionally exhausted and hungry.

So, you dialed Jay's number.

"Hey, Y/N, what's up?" he asked. He put the phone on speaker so he could finish adding wood to the campfire he was building for him, Hailey, and Will to roast hot dogs over.

"It's just, it's been a really bad day," you said, your voice cracking.

Will was near him and he looked at Jay worriedly.

"Why's that?" Jay asked.

"I- I had to go the hospital with a girl because she- because she said she was going to kill herself." Tears were currently rolling down your cheeks. You had kept it together all day and now you were crumbling.

Working in a group home you knew things like this were bound to happen, but you didn't know they'd happen in your first two months there. And, to make matters worse, you got the email when you were driving into work, so you really had no idea what was going on. When you got to work, you were told you had to go to Lakeshore Memorial Hospital because a girl was saying she was going to kill herself the night before. And, you didn't have the staff to get her back inside safely, so, as is protocol, the shift lead the shift before yours had to call emergency services to take her to the hospital. You didn't know about any of this until you got to work when you were debriefed and then told you'd have to go to the hospital.

God, you knew this happened but nothing prepared you for sitting in that dark room with her all shift, the monitors beeping, telling you that she was still alive. You had done some homework and you had talked with her, gotten more information about why she did it. You had read her file, but she really seemed to open up to you and told you more. And, what broke your heart the most was that, since she was in a group home, she had no family. So, you did your best to sit with her the entire shift, only leaving to go to the bathroom, get some water, or make a phone call to your shift lead. Because, even if you were doing homework and she was sleeping or just sitting in silence, you knew it helped to have someone there with you. And, you knew if it was you in that position, you'd want someone to be there with you.

"Are you okay?" Jay asked, breaking you out of your thoughts.

"No," you admitted. "I don't want to be alone."

Jay sighed. There was nothing he could really do for you at this point. "Y/N--"

"I'll grab my stuff and I'll be there in an hour and half, Y/N," Will interjected.

"Are you sure? I don't want you to leave. I don't want to be alone, but I don't want you wasting your weekend off--"

"Y/N," Will began, "it's fine. I'll see you soon."

***

Will walked inside carrying a bag of McDonald's.

He walked into the living room to see you sipping wine out of the bottle. You weren't even halfway through it yet. You were just a little buzzed because you had drank the martinis a couple of hours ago. So, now you needed to get more buzzed to forget about your horrible shift. Normally you never did this: drink to forget. But today, well today, you deemed it warranted.

"Y/N, at least pour it in a glass," Will sighed and then sat down next to you and set the bag of food on the coffee table in front of you.

"Why's it matter? I'm the only one who drinks Moscato; you and Jay say it's too sweet."

"Yeah, but I don't want you to drink too much."

"But I just wanna forget what happened, Will," you said as you turned to face him. You started to cry. "She's just a kid. She shouldn't be going through this. Hell, she shouldn't have gone through what happened to her in her past! She didn't deserve it!"

Will wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into a hug while you cried. He knew because of confidentiality reasons that you couldn't tell him any more than you had just told him and what you mentioned on the phone.

"I know, I know," he soothed.

"I know she didn't- she didn't die," you cried. "But, God, it feels like I got my first death."

"And, crying about it is nothing to be ashamed of," Will said. "When I had my first patient death, I went home and did exactly what you did: cried and drank until I couldn't think straight, much less think about what happened at work."

You pulled away. You didn't think Will ever cried over something that happened at work. "You did?"

"Hand to God, I did."

"How do you cope with this stuff all the time?"

"You do the best you can with the knowledge you have. You talk to somebody about how you're feeling and you don't drown yourself in drinking, drugs, or sex." He moved your bottle of wine. "You cope in healthy ways. And, sooner or later, you realize that you can't save everybody. And, that you can't change the past.

"You can't change what happened in this girl's past to make her end up in a group home or have these intrusive thoughts, but you can help change her future by being there for her and listening to her, and helping her get to a better place."

"That's what I want to do."

"Good, then you're in the right place to do that. You just have to focus on your wins and not your losses."

You pulled away and wiped your hands across your face to get rid of the tears. "Thank you for coming home. I, uh, I really needed that."

Will nodded. "You're welcome. I wished someone would've told me that earlier in medical school and I didn't want you to feel like I felt."

"Is that why you decided to come home and not Jay?"

"Part of the reason."

You raised an eyebrow. "And the other part?"

"I figured Jay and Hailey could use a night all to themselves."

"Gross!" You faked gagged and Will laughed.

"I don't know if you'll be able to eat now that I mentioned that, but how about we try and we can watch a funny movie?"

"I like that idea."

And, even though you really wanted to get buzzed to forget about the day you had, you knew it was better for you to talk about it with Will and eat takeout and watch a movie with him. And, you were pretty sure you felt better after that than you would if you drank an entire bottle of wine by yourself.

A/N: Thank you guys so much for reading! Sorry this one took so long, but I'm in school and working, so updates won't be as frequent as they were in the summer. And finally, please remember to like/reblog and comment! I love reading your comments! As always, if you want to be added to my taglist, just tell me and I’ll add you!

taglist: @theambracer88 @virtualreader @kelelas-life @celyndavies @brookerz122493 @musicismyescape27 @anotherfan07 @thexplosivegirl @dreamingwithlens @xoxmariaxox @onechicago18 @iamasimpingh0e @i-like-sparkly-things @herecomesthewriterwitch @liampayne88

[specialagentsergio]

rationalizations

rationalizations: a defense mechanism in which one makes up a false but reassuring explanation to explain their behavior and/or feelings to both themselves and others, thus avoiding the reality of why they are really acting or feeling as they do.

summary: You’re the psych evaluation for Spencer. You think he’s full of shit, so you refuse to sign his clearance form until he actually tells the truth.

pairing: spencer reid x f!reader

category: angst (happy ending)

content warnings: spencer’s canonical trauma, flashbacks, mentions of suicide and suicidal ideation, swearing

a/n: i wrote this for @imagining-in-the-margins‘ enemies to lovers event. it’s not my favorite trope, but one of the prompts sparked inspiration for me. i also took a good amount of inspiration from meredith’s various therapy scenes in grey’s anatomy, so if some of it feels familiar, that’s why! i swear i intended to make this cute and funny, but, well… here we are lmao.

word count: 3.6k

masterlist

Spencer throws his bag onto his desk with a frustrated huff. It thumps loudly, startling JJ at her desk across from his. She gives him a sympathetic look regardless. “Still not cleared yet?”

“No!” Forgetting that it’s wheeled, he drops himself into his chair. It skids backwards and he has to scramble to grab something to keep from falling out of it.

“Careful there,” JJ says, trying valiantly to suppress a laugh. “That psychologist's got you really worked up, huh?”

“I don’t know what she wants from me!” he complains. “It’s been nearly a month! Hotch’s ex-wife was murdered by an unsub, but they cleared him. I was only shot in the neck.”

“I mean, that’s still kind of a big deal,” she says. “You could’ve died, from the gunshot, or from the nurse that tried to kill you afterwards.”

“Speaking of that nurse,” he starts, “Garcia is the one who shot him and she’s been a wreck over it. She insisted on going to the guy’s execution. But the therapist cleared her!”

“Penelope’s not in the field,” JJ points out.

He crosses his arms. “Still. This isn’t the first time I’ve been shot. That possibility is part of the job. It’s not like it came out of nowhere and I was completely unprepared for it.”

“I don’t know what to tell you, Spence,” she says. “Just keep all of your appointments and I’m sure you’ll be cleared soon.”

He pulls a stack of papers on his desk towards him. Paperwork—one of the things he’s actually allowed to do. “I better be,” he mutters.

---

“And it was really scary, you know?” Spencer wipes at his eyes with a tissue. “Not knowing if I was going to live or die.”

“Mm-hmm.”

He takes a deep breath. “But… it’s over now. The preacher who shot me died in the same shootout. Owen McGregor, the leader of the corrupt deputies, died later that night, in another shootout. And Greg Baylor, the one who posed as a nurse and tried to kill me, was sentenced to death row and he’s gone now, too.”

His psychologist makes a note on the paper in front of her, but doesn’t say anything, so he continues.

“I… I feel better now, just letting that out.” He takes a new tissue and dries his nose. “I feel ready now. Ready to go back to work.”

She nods slowly, considering him. But she doesn’t even look towards her desk where the clearance form sits, frustrating him to no end. After five minutes of silence, he breaks.

“You can’t be serious.”

She raises an eyebrow. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I’ve been coming to these sessions for over a month, and I’m still not cleared to be in the field. I…” He musters up more tears and makes sure his voice wavers during his next words. “I just don’t know what you want? I’ve tried everything.”

“No, you haven’t,” she says plainly.

He blinks in surprise, sending some of the crocodile tears down his cheeks. “What?”

She crosses her legs. “You’re full of shit.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re not being honest with me, and I don’t think you’re being honest with yourself either,” she says. “You’re a great actor. I can see how you’ve gotten clearances easily before. But that stops with me.”

Spencer stares at her. “I don’t understand.”

She moves her notebook to the side. “What happened in Texas isn’t the first time your life’s been in danger. Why do you think that is?”

“Wh—that’s part of my job,” he argues, fake crying long since forgotten.

“Not to the extent that you take it. I’ve read your file,” she says. “You take unnecessary risks with regularity.”

The tissues crumple in his hand as he clenches it. “I do not.”

“Let’s go back to the beginning.”

“The beginning of what?”

“Of your career.” Yet she doesn’t take out his file, or look at her notes. She speaks from memory. “2005. The BAU is assisting with a hostage situation. You go into the train, posing as someone who is there to remove a microchip from the unsub, but the first thing you do? You take off your bulletproof vest.”

“Okay, clearly you don’t understand what the situation was,” Spencer cuts in. “Ted Bryar was suffering from a psychotic break. He was somewhat unpredictable, and he told me to take off the vest.”

“And you just listened?”

“He—he had a gun, and was threatening both me and the other passengers with it!” he says. “What was I supposed to do, not listen?”

“Uh, yeah,” she replies. “You easily played into his delusions just a few minutes later to distract him. Why not do that to keep yourself safe?”

“I was twenty-four and was running on adrenaline,” he says defensively. “And it was my first time doing something like that. You can’t expect me to think of everything.”

“You’re right, I can’t,” she agrees. “So let’s jump forward a few years. How about the time you approached a teenager who was wielding an assault rifle with no protection, not even your own firearm?” she challenges.

“You mean Owen Savage? That was a unique situation,” he protests. “I knew I could talk him down.”

“No, you didn’t. You thought you had a good chance, but there’s no way to be one hundred percent sure of that. He was volatile, and on a killing spree,” she counters. “You didn’t know if you’d succeed--”

“I did!” He startles himself by unconsciously raising his voice, but he doesn’t apologize. “I did, because….”

“Because you related to him,” she fills in. “And that’s fine. Having empathy for an unsub doesn’t suggest something’s wrong in and of itself. But you still put yourself, and the rest of your team, in danger, didn’t you?”

He crosses his arms. “I got that lecture from Hotch when it happened, okay?”

“So then why’d you confront an unsub alone a few years later in Miami?” she asks. “You didn’t even tell anyone where you were going. You left your vest behind and just ran off.”

“I was having a head—wait, how do you even know that happened?” he questions. “It wasn’t in the report.”

“Well, first of all, you just confirmed it,” she points out, and he wants to kick himself. “Secondly, I can read between the lines.”

“I was having a headache,” he repeats. “I wasn’t thinking all that clearly. I just knew Julio’s life was in immediate danger, so I went to help him.”

“Uh-huh. More recently,” she says, brushing past his excuse, “You confronted your girlfriend’s stalker without your vest or gun.”

Spencer’s getting angry now. “I was trying to save Maeve. She asked me to leave them behind.”

“And you simply listened. Do you see the pattern I’m drawing here, Dr. Reid?” she asks. “These are just a few of the instances that stand out. Time and time again, you put yourself in unnecessary danger. So I’ll ask you again. Why do you think that is?”

Spencer looks over her—really looks over her, trying to understand what she’s getting at. “Are… are you suggesting that I’m suicidal?” he asks quietly.

She looks him straight in the eye. “You don’t act like someone who wants to be alive.”

It’s like she set off a bomb in his brain. Memories, and the feelings attached to them, emerge—Elle handcuffed to a seat, a teenager with a rifle, a blinding headache, Maeve and blood on the warehouse floor.

“Here’s what I see,” she says. “I see a man who’s been through so, so much. Your mother is mentally ill, your father left--”

His father is packing a suitcase. Spencer doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do or say, so he falls back on what he knows.

“Statistically, children who grow up in two-parent households attain three more years of higher education than children from single-parent households.”

It doesn’t help. “We’re not statistics, Spencer.”

“Your file says she’s staying at an institution, and with your father out of the picture, I can only assume you were the one who had her admitted--”

“Spencer, please don’t do this to me!” she cries as she’s escorted out of the house by Bennington Sanitarium’s transport staff.

“A few years into your work here at the FBI, you were kidnapped, tortured and drugged--”

He’s tired and cold and his whole body aches. Tobias—the real Tobias—looms over him with a syringe.

“Please. I don’t want it,” he pleads of his captor. “I don’t want it, please.”

The needle punctures his skin regardless.

“—you were held hostage by a cult leader--”

Emily sits across from him on the plane with a black eye. “What Cyrus did to me is not your fault.”

He pretends to agree.

“—you went through the death and reappearance of Agent Prentiss--”

He’s tried to make it clear to Jennifer that he wants to be left alone, but she won’t stop trying to talk about it with him, and he’s had enough.

“I came to your house for ten weeks in a row crying over losing a friend, and not once did you have the decency to tell me the truth.”

“—and your girlfriend was shot in front of you.”

“Who’s Thomas Merton? Who is he?” Diane demands, gun pressed against Maeve’s head.

“He’s the one thing you can never take from us,” Maeve replies, and Spencer’s heart drops. Thomas Merton is Maeve’s way of saying goodbye—she’s giving up.

“Wait!” he cries out, but it’s too late.

“This is just some of the more traumatic stuff. And then there’s what happened last month, which is why you’re here. You present a face of not being bothered by all of this, because that’s what you’ve been doing all your life, but I think you are bothered. You really, really are. And you don’t want to admit to anyone just how much it all has affected you. Maybe you don’t even want yourself to know.” Her expression and tone of voice are certain.

Spencer can’t take it anymore. The whirlwind of emotions and memories is overwhelming.

“The number of times you’ve almost died is staggering--”

“Yeah, and sometimes I wish I had!” He glares at her, breathing heavily. “Is that what you wanted to hear?”

But she doesn’t seem intimidated or alarmed at all. She leans back in her armchair. “Now we’re getting somewhere.”

The response only serves to make him angrier. She questioned him relentlessly and made him admit something he swore in the dark hours of sleepless nights that he’d never think again, never voice, let alone admit to anyone. She forced it out of him, forced. She made him say it against his will.

So why does he feel a sense of relief?

“I…” Tears well up in his eyes—real ones this time. “I’m done,” he chokes out.

He pushes himself off of the couch and out the door, slamming it shut behind him.

---

He storms in Hotch’s office and demands to see a different psychologist. But she was one step ahead of him—a few hours before the appointment, she had emailed Hotch and told him that under no circumstances should Spencer be allowed to get a clearance from someone else.

“And you’re going to believe her?” he cries.

“She’s doing her job, Reid.”

“You barely know her! You’ve known me for a decade!”

“Yes, I have,” Hotch agrees. “And you’ve told me yourself that you’ve fooled psychologists and therapists before. So if this one is saying you’re not ready yet, I’m inclined to believe her.”

Spencer just stares at him, but as usual, Hotch doesn’t blink.

“Unbelievable,” Spencer eventually mutters.

“Take the rest of the day off,” Hotch replies, glancing down at fists Spencer hadn’t realized he was clenching.

“Fine.”

Too agitated to stand in the elevator, he takes the stairs. As he stomps down them, he swears he’ll never go back to her office, even if it means never going into the field again.

A week passes, then two, and he hasn’t seen the psychologist since. But he doesn’t feel any better—he actually feels worse. It’s like her words broke a dam in his mind, in his gut, and feelings of unease and uncertainty won’t pass. It keeps him up at night. Her words echo in his head. “You don’t act like someone who wants to be alive.”

Spencer’s had yet another sleepless night and is struggling not to doze off at his desk despite the coffee he’s drinking. He stands up with the intention of splashing some water from the bathroom sink on his face, but his feet take him somewhere else.

He stares at the nameplate on the door. He swore he’d never go back, yet he feels compelled to knock.

It only takes her a few moments to answer. “Dr. Reid. Can I help you?” she asks.

“I…” He sighs. “Are you busy?”

“No. Come on in.” She steps to the side, opening the door wider to let him pass. He sits down on the couch.

She waits patiently. She doesn’t rush him. She lets him speak first.

He wrings his hands in his lap, staring down at them. “Something you said is bothering me.”

“What was it?”

“About… living,” he admits quietly. “I… I think you might have been right.”

When he gets the courage to glance up at her, he finds a soft smile on her face. “Would you like to talk about it?”

Spencer hadn’t realized he was expecting judgment and disdain until it didn’t happen. His shoulders slump down in relief. “Yeah,” he says. “Yeah, I think I would.”

---

“You’re still thinking about her, aren’t you?”

Spencer looks up from his paperwork, slightly out of it, to find Derek watching him. His coworker had, indeed, caught him thinking about her again. His psychologist. Well, former psychologist. After his second session back with her, she’d handed over a clearance form and a referral to a therapist outside the bureau to see long-term.

“And you better follow up with that,” she’d told him, the corner of her mouth turning up despite her serious tone of voice. “I’ll know if you don’t.”

He’d promised that he would, and had followed through. But despite the progress he was making with the new therapist, he was feeling a little disappointed that he didn’t get to see her anymore. He only saw her in passing, sometimes in the elevator or walking down the hallways of the building. They would exchange hellos, she would ask how he was doing, then give him a little wave as she left. Each time his heart would skip a beat, and he’d feel an urge to follow her to wherever she was going.

Yet he hadn’t quite realized why he seemed to be preoccupied with her until a dream he had a few weeks ago—a dream in which he found himself kissing her. Despite being alone in his bedroom, he’d woken up feeling embarrassed. He promised himself that he would put her out of his mind. Having a crush on his psychologist? It was ridiculous.

But then he saw her in the elevator a few days later and he couldn’t help but analyze her body language. It was open, and she twirled her hair around a finger while she looked at him to ask him how he was. A few other people entered the elevator on the next floor, but her attention remained on him. They were subtle signs, but signs that he recognized nonetheless—signs of attraction. And once he started seeing them, he couldn’t stop.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Spencer tells Derek, picking back up the pen he hadn’t noticed he dropped.

“You can’t pull that on me, kid,” he replies. “It’s your psychologist. You can’t stop thinking about her, can you?”

Spencer sighs. “So what if I can’t?”

“So go ask her out already!” Derek says like it’s obvious.

“You don’t think that’s just a little inappropriate?”

“You’re not seeing her as a client anymore, are you?” he points out. “Go for it, kid. You’ll regret it if you don’t.”

Spencer takes the advice—as soon as Derek said it, he knew he was right. He would regret not taking a chance on her and the connection he felt. Sure, she’d helped him with therapy, but it went deeper than that. It feels like she knows him.

He leaves the bullpen ten minutes early that evening, hoping to catch her before she leaves for the day. On her doorstep, he feels just as nervous as he did on the day he admitted that she was right, but it’s a different kind of nervous. An excited nervous. He knocks on the door.

She’s surprised when she seems him. He watches as her pupils dilate, and it boosts his confidence. “Dr. Reid. Can I help you?”

“You can. I’d like to talk,” he says.

“Oh. Well, I guess I could do that,” she says. “I thought things were going well with the therapist I referred you to, though.”

He shakes his head. “No, I don’t mean I want an appointment.”

Her eyebrows come together in confusion. “Okay, then, what do you want?”

Spencer doesn’t hesitate. “I want to take you out to dinner.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“I really like you, and I think we’re meant to be together,” he replies, voice softening a bit.

She pauses before answering. When she does, her voice is gentle. “Dr. Reid, sometimes a medical professional’s care can start to feel like affection over a period of time, but--”

“No one has ever listened to me like you do,” he interrupts.

“That’s my job,” she points out.

“I’ve seen therapists before, but none of them have been like you,” he counters. “You understand me.”

She sighs. “Well, I’m glad I was a good fit and was able to help you. But that doesn’t mean that I see you as anything more than a client.”

“You’re lying.”

“Excuse me?”

“You do feel something more for me,” he says firmly, but then backtracks a little. “Well, I know you’re attracted to me at least.”

She blinks and shakes her head slightly, take aback. “Dr. Reid, this is not appropriate--”

“Please call me Spencer,” he says, then jumps into his explanation. “See, when we’re attracted to someone, our bodies display involuntary signals, and I’ve seen you do some of them when you’re around me. Whenever we run into each other here, your body will turn a little towards me and you’ll play with your hair. Your attention is almost entirely focused on me. And, when you see me, your pupils dilate. They did it when you opened the door just a few minutes ago. Oh, and I’m attracted to you, by the way,” he adds as he realizes how one-sided he’s been. “I imagine my pupils probably dilate when I see you, too.”

Her mouth opens and closes a few times, like she wants to speak but doesn’t know what to say. She looks flustered, and he wonders if maybe he’s pushed it too far or said too much, but he can’t turn back now. “So, please, let me take you out,” he says quietly. “Just… just give it a chance.”

She bites her lip and looks at the ground. There’s a crease between her eyebrows, which he’s come to learn means she’s thinking. She speaks seriously when she looks back up. “If I go out with you, I can’t treat you anymore. If you ever need another evaluation or session, you’d have to get it from someone else.”

“I know,” he says. “I get along well with the therapist you referred me to, though. And having to get clearance from a different psychologist at the bureau is something I’m willing to give up in favor of getting to know you better.”

She considers him. “You’re serious about this,” she states.

It’s not a question, but he answers it anyways. “I am.”

She tilts her head to the side, eyes unfocusing as she ponders the situation. Eventually, she says, “Let me think about it.”

It’s not exactly the answer he was hoping for, but he’ll take it.

---

It’s only six PM, but Spencer is already exhausted. He unlocks his apartment door, fully intending to collapse onto his bed, but instead receives a pleasant surprise in the form of his girlfriend waiting for him on the couch. He can’t help but smile.

“Sweetie, what are you doing here?” he asks, then adds, “Not that I’m complaining.”

“Penelope told me it was a bit of a rough case,” she replies. “And I missed you.”

She holds out her arms and he takes the invitation, joining her on the couch and laying down between her legs, placing his head on her chest. “I missed you, too.”

Her next words are overly familiar. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Hey, we agreed to no therapy,” he says. “Something about I can’t be your client anymore?”

She huffs. “This isn’t therapy. This is being a good partner.”

Spencer smiles into the fabric of her shirt, snuggling in closer. “I know, I’m just teasing you. I don’t need to talk about the case,” he says, finally answering her original question. “I feel fine now that I’m here with you.”

She lets out a pleased hum and starts running her fingers through his hair. “I ordered take-out for dinner, by the way.”

“Where from?”

“You know where.”

A wide grin spreads across his face. She must have ordered take-out from the restaurant he took her to on their first date. He lifts his head to look her in the eye. “Aren’t you glad you said yes to me all those months ago?”

“Oh, I suppose,” she says with pretend annoyance, rolling her eyes.

Then she kisses him.

Spencer’s never been so happy to be alive.

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

tell me what you thought here!

please note that i DO NOT ENDORSE asking out your therapist/former therapist. this is fanfiction. thank you.

general taglist: @calm-and-doctor​ , @spencerreid9​

[hintofelation99]

I really liked the JL babysitting the robins and duke but imagine if they were paired up like Damian and jason. Like that would prob be a nightmare for them. And I would like to see it please. (Mainly because I really want Damian and Jason bro fluff and the justice league lol)

That would definitely be a nightmare, the grumpy child and cranky boy together? Complete menaces, just ask Hal.

The Justice League Babysits Damian and Jason:

Hal: No.

Barry: C'mon Hal, we owe Bats for getting us out of that weird alien cult.

Hal: Technically I'm still in a weird alien cult so he saved me from nothing. I owe the man NOTHING.

Clark: It won't be too bad. I know that Dick usually keeps Damian in check, so I bet Jason will do the same!

J'onn: For once I must agree with Hal.

Hal: Thank y- what does for once mean?!

Oliver: J'onns right. Arthur and Diana are the only league members able to handle Damian and Jason, and they're off world!

Clark: You guys are over reacting Damian and Jason aren't that-

Jason walks in blindfolded with Damian on his shoulders directing him by pulling his hair.

Damian: Right 3 o'clock.

Jason shoots, hitting Clark.

Damian: That was 4 o'clock you imbecile!

Jason: Shut up brat!

Hal, whispering to the other league members: Which of us is 3- oh shit it's me.

Damian: We have lost the element of surprise!

Jason: We can still try!

Jason starts firing everywhere trying to hit league members. He hits Hal in the arm.

Hal: YOU SHOT ME?!

Jason takes off the blindfold and rolls his eyes: Don't be so dramatic green nightlight, it barely grazed you.

Hal: It still hurts!!

Damian: Tt. Pathetic.

Jason: You said it brat.

Hal: You know what? Fuck this! I'm leaving!

Jason: No you aren't.

Hal: Excuse me?

Diaman: We placed the building on lockdown.

Jason, smirks at the horrified looks: No one leaves.

J'onn: I have experienced too much pain from these children. I am leaving.

J'onn density shifts out of the watchtower.

Hal: FUCKING COWARD.

Jason and Damian just smirk.

Jason: One down...

Damian: Four to go.

Barry: God these children are terrifying...

-> One hour later <-

Jason: Yellow nightlight.

Damian: Blue lightbulb.

Jason: Chartreuse lamp.

Damian: Teal torch.

Jason: Oh shit, that one's pretty good!

Damian: Thank you Todd, I was also quite satisfied with the phrasing.

Hal, tied to a rolly chair near teetering on the edge of a stairwell with sharpie on his face, Jason casually throwing balled up papers at him: Yeah, congrats. Now let me go!

Damian and Jason: No.

Jason: Pantone flare?

Damian's head pops up from the bottom of the stairs, that's when Hal realizes that Damian duct taped sheets of cardboard to the stairs to create a slide.

Damian: That was disappointing Todd.

Jason, shrugging: Yeah, it was worth a shot. Anyway, you ready?

Damian, stepping to the side: Yes.

Jason smirks: Sweet. Have a nice ride Hal.

Jason pushes Hal down the stairs.

Barry walks in eating a popsicle and sees what's happening. He slowly backs out of the room.

-> Two minutes later <-

Jason: Hey Barry!

Barry: No, I'm not here, go away!

Jason: But we're bored!

Barry: Push Hal down the stairs again!

Damian: We have exhausted that form of entertainment.

Jason: Yeah teal torch is pretty boring.

Barry: Did you just call him t-

Jason: Anyway, we just wanted to let you know that we gave Bart coffee.

Barry: YOU WHAT???

Jason: Yeah, like ten cups at least.

Barry looks faint: You're crazy... y-you're insane...

Damian: Possibly. However instead of focusing on our menal state I would recommend finding Bart. According to Oracle he is currently raiding a Krispy Kreme, apparently it's rather gruesome.

Barry: Oh god... not again...

Jason: We activated the zeta tube, better go quick.

Barry immediately takes off.

-> Two hours later <-

Oliver, hiding under a table with Clark and whispering: No one can stop them, they're too powerful.

Clark: ...well, there is plan Q.

Oliver: No! It's too risky, if anything goes wrong it will make them more powerful!

Clark: We have to try.

Oliver, looking defeated: Okay, let's call them.

-> Two minutes later Jon and Roy somehow break into the watch tower <-

Jon: Hi Damian! Wanna watch highschool musical? I brought popcorn!

Clark and Oliver look at eachother nervously.

Damian: No. But I suppose I have nothing better to do.

Clark and Oliver sigh in relief.

Roy: Hey Jaybird! Wanna blow something up and see if we can make a hole in the watchtower?

Clark and Oliver look shocked and horrified.

Jason: Sure!

Clark and Oliver look scared.

Clark, whispering to Oliver: I thought he was here to help!

Oliver: I TOLD YOU THIS WAS RISKY!

Damian: Todd. I demand that you watch the Highschool Musical Trilogy with me and Jon.

Clark and Oliver hold hands looking nervous.

Jason: Ugh, fine.

Clark in Oliver sigh in relief.

Jason: Don't look so happy assholes, you haven't seen your rooms yet.

-> The next day <-

In the common room Bruce can see Jason, Damian, Roy, and Jon cuddling on the couch. He smiles at them as he hears two people approach.

Bruce, turning around: How'd it-

Clark and Oliver walk into to the common area covered in glitter glue and hives.

Bruce: -go...

Oliver: Don't wanna talk about it. Ever.

[tyongxnct]

𝑏𝑎𝑐𝑘 𝑡𝑜 𝑦𝑜𝑢 - 𝑀𝑎𝑟𝑘 𝐿𝑒𝑒

pairing: Mark Lee x reader

special guest: Jaehyun, Johnny, Yuta, Jungwoo, Taeyong, Doyoung, mention of Haechan

summary: Years ago, you were deeply in love with Mark Lee. He’s your first love and you thought he’d be the last. After finding out why he really dated you, he broke up with you and vanished. You were devastated and heartbroken. Now you were at the airport as the maid of honor of your best friend Aera, her wedding’s in Greece and you were flying three days earlier with her, her fiancé Jaehyun and his best man. Little did you know that Mark Lee was Jaehyun’s best man. Feelings you thought you had buried deep inside bloomed again.

song: back to you - Selena Gomez

genre: exes-to-lovers!au, angst, smut, fluff

warnings: smut, alcohol consumption, swearing

word count: 11.7k

A/N: I’m finally done. This is the last fic of my series and I can’t believe that i’m done with this series. This series means so much to me, not only because I love Selena Gomez, but also because of the meaning behind evey story. Thank you for all of your support, thank you for every comment, like, reblog, ask and follow. This is just the beginning. Also thank you for requesting that you want to read a second part to some of my stories, I’ll try to write them in the upcoming month, march. I hope you enjoy. Thanx

taglist: @alex-chann​, @aesthetichrj @bvbyxuxi​​

© tyongxnct on all platforms

Took you like a shot Thought that I could chase you with a cold evening Let a couple years water down how I'm feeling about you And every time we talk Every single word builds up to this moment And I gotta convince myself I don't want it even though I do

“I have BIG news!” Aera squealed as soon as you opened the door for her. She hugged you tightly and started jumping, you jumped with her even though you had no idea why.

“Why are we jumping around?”

“Greece! I’m getting married in Greece!” she yelled happily, “You know that it’s my dream to get married in Greece and my amazing soon-to-be-husband surprised me with it! Oh god, I  can’t believe I’m marrying Jaehyun in fucking GREECE!”

“Holy shit that’s great! But can we stop jumping I might puke.”

You sat down on your couch with Aera, “We need to start planning, the wedding is in 3 weeks. I’ve sent the invitations right before I came here. We booked a hotel with the best view ever and my wonderful maid of honor aka you are flying with me and Jaehyun a two days earlier, you know, to get stuff done and the others come one day before the wedding, your man too, by the way. I can’t wait for my bachelorette party- but remember, I promised Jaehyun no strippers.” Her eyes sparkled as she talked about her wedding and you started thinking about your own future.

Were you ever going to get married? You want to get married, you really do. But what if you never get the chance to? Your boyfriend hated to talk about commitment and marriage, he said living together and dating was enough, but you never felt the same way. You wanted to get married, you want a ring on your finger, and you wanted to call him your husband, not your boyfriend.

Aera left after a while and you were alone, until you heard the door open with a sigh. “I’m home.”

His voice, no, his existence alone triggered you and without knowing you plugged in your earphones. “I said I’m home Y/n. There she fucking goes again, god I’m not going to deal with you tonight.” And without saying anything after that, he left again. Minho, your boyfriend of two and half years, always left you alone. He never bothered to talk to you about the problems in your relationship and after trying and trying, you were sick of it.

Dating him was almost torture but breaking up with him was also difficult. You were so scared of being alone, of not being loved.

Almost three weeks later, you found yourself at the airport with Jaehyun and Aera. Jaehyun looked at his watch every two minutes and he looked really nervous too. “Where the fuck is he?” he mumbled and Aera kicked his leg. “Ouch?” he hissed in pain. “Sorry baby didn’t mean to kick you that hard.”

“What is going on here? Who are we waiting for?” you asked confused. “You didn’t tell her?” Jaehyun asked his fiancée. Aera shook her head.

“W-Well about that- uhm, there’s one thing I have to tell you, but don’t get too mad,” Aera looked at you nervously, “you, uhm… you remember Mark Lee, right? Please forgive me for not telling you, but- fuck, he’s Jaehyun’s best man. He’s coming with us.” Aera closed her eyes, scared of your reaction.

“You are joking right?” your heart pounded against your chest.

“N-No, I really didn’t know that you didn’t know- a-and you know, Mark’s my oldest friend and yeah, and uhm, fuck he’s coming act natural.” Jaehyun looked at his phone and laughed, even though his screen was dark and Aera laughed with him.

“How the fuck am I supposed to act natural?!” you almost yelled bus as soon as you heard Mark’s little hi, your heart stopped beating.

It’s been almost three years since you heard his voice. Every memory played in your mind like a sad movie, the second he asked you to be his girlfriend to the end of your relationship with him, the moment he broke your heart almost made you cry again, but Aera stepped on your foot and you came back to reality.

“Hi.” You said coldly, his last word replaying in your head over and over again.

Aera and Jaehyun watched you and Mark awkwardly and Mark couldn’t find any words to say, except for, “H-hi.”

“Sooo, now that everyone’s here,” Jaehyun handed you your tickets. “Thanks.” Mark mumbled.

You were about to go on board, you didn’t say a word since Mark came and he was busy talking to Aera and Jaehyun. “Y/n, we’ll see you guys when we land alright?”

“What do you mean?” you asked confused, “We sit together? Right?”

“W-Well about that- we are flying first class, we wanted to spoil ourselves a little- please don’t get angry I’m sorry I am so sorry.” Aera whispered and you felt like you could explode any second like a volcano.

“Y-You mean… you’re telling me I have to sit with him for the next couple hours?! All alone?!” you tried to whisper but it was loud enough for Jaehyun and Mark to hear.

“shh! Just, I don’t know, sleep, or watch a movie or maybe just talk to him like a grown up, please do it for me?” she pouted.

“I’m gonna be wasted when we arrive in Greece.” You couldn’t be angry at her. “As long as you don’t kill him.”

Jaehyun and Aera entered the plane first and left you and Mark alone. “So, how have you been?”

The audacity.

“Good.” You mumbled. How long until you could enter that fucking plane?

“Me too, well, I’d say ok-“

“Look, Mark. I’m doing this for our friends, okay? I’m not interested in your life. I don’t want to talk to you unless it’s about the wedding. Did I make myself clear?” maybe you were mean and bitchy, but after everything he had done to you, you didn’t care.

He just nodded and looked down to his feet.

Half an hour later, you were seated on the plane right next to Mark. It’s not your first time flying, but it was Mark’s first time, and he was fucking scared.

“This is captain Lee Taeyong speaking, I’m your pilot for our flight to Mykonos, Greece. My co-pilot for today is Kim Doyoung. Please enjoy your flight.”

After the announcement and the instructions, you were ready to go.

The plane started moving and you could feel Mark tensing up next to you. His grip on the hand rest tightened and his knuckles turned white.

You tried so hard to ignore him, but you couldn’t. You should laugh at him, take pictures of his suffering- but you held his hand and assured it him that it’ll be over.

Mark looked at you and then back at your hands. Your thumb slowly stroked his hand and he stopped thinking about the plane and he could only think about your hand holding his.

You held his hand until you saw the flight attendant walk around.

Mark thanked you but you ignored him.

“Hello, would you like to have some water or coffee?” the flight attendant asked you and Mark.

“Just a water please.” Mark said.

“Do you have something stronger? Wine? Or champagne?”

“Sure ma’am.”

“Alright I’d like to have some champagne.” You smiled and she nodded.

Mark looked at you, eyes a little wide.

Four glasses later, you were a little tipsy.

“I think you had enough-“ Mark tried to stop you from ordering another glass.

“You don’t know anything about me!” you protested.

“Y/n, get some sleep come on-“

“Mind your own business.” You plugged in your Airpods and ignored him. You didn’t want him to interact with you and If you have to stop drinking for him to shut up, you sadly had to.

You closed your eyes and leaned back. You didn’t notice Mark’s eyes on you, watching your pretty features as your chest raised with every breath you took.

Shortly after, you fell asleep.

You could break my heart in two But when it heals, it beats for you I know it's forward but it's true

Three years ago

“It was a game. I won and now it’s over.” Mark said coldly as he looked away.

“What do you mean a game? And what is over? Mark, babe, I don’t understand.” Maybe you knew, maybe you tried to hide the fact that you saw it coming. Your relationship was too good to be true.

“I told my friends that I could fuck you within a year, and I did. We’ve been dating for ten months. I won. I can’t believe I waited ten months to fuck you.” He said casually.

“What?”

“Are you deaf? I fucked you and I got a lot of cash in exchange. Now we’re over. As simple as that.”

“You’re joking? Right? You love me, Mark. We love each other. It’s not funny.” Your voice broke.

“I’m not fucking joking,” he showed you the money he got, “Now, please get the fuck out of my apartment. Oh, and take your toothbrush with you.”

You were crying and that annoyed him. “Why are you fucking crying?!”

“M-Mark please don’t do this- I love you. I have never loved anyone like I love you. P-Please tell me you’re lying.” You sobbed.

“You know what, I’m leaving. Leave before I come back.”

Mark didn’t want to leave, but watching you cry and sob hurt him, he would never admit that to you but deep down, he felt something for you. Mark thought ending things with you was better than walking on eggshells. It was a matter of time until you would find out. He didn’t want to risk you finding out from someone else. The least he could do was tell you, face to face.

You loved him, you really loved him so much. He was a perfect boyfriend. There was not a single day you doubt him or your relationship. It hurt, you first ever heartbreak and you didn’t know how to handle the pain.

I wanna hold you when I'm not supposed to When I'm lying close to someone else You're stuck in my head and I can't get you out of it If I could do it all again I know I'd go back to you I know I'd go back to you I know I'd go back to you

After your breakup with Mark, you felt your life slowly falling apart. You were barely present in class and you stopped interacting with your friends. You drowned in self-pity and you fell deeper and deeper. Only Aera was there for you. After so many years of friendship, she always got your back.

“Is the pain ever going to stop?” you asked her between sobs.

“Honey, it’ll take a while, but I promise you, it’ll stop.”

Aera and Jaehyun were dating since first year of college and he told you that he had no idea about his oldest friend’s plan. Jaehyun was happy to see his friend happy- because was happy whenever he was with you. You went on double dates and spent so much time together, Jaehyun really thought that you and Mark were going to end up together.

“I swear I didn’t know. His other friends- that Haechan guy and the others were with him. He never told me because he know that we’re friends.”

“It’s okay, Jae. You’re not as childish as they’re. Don’t worry about it. I’m fine.”

And Jaehyun and Aera never left your side until college was over. During your time thinking about life and finishing college, you met Minho, your current boyfriend. You started dating and you thought he’d help you get over Mark, but he only made you feel worse.

He was a fuckboy, he fucked anyone with tits, and even though you knew it, you still agreed to date him.

Multiple fights and breakups followed, and you always end up at Aera’s or Minho would leave for a couple days.

Whenever you were lonely, and it was the case most of time, you thought about Mark. You missed him, his lips, his touches, the way he laughed and his silly jokes. You missed the way he said I love you and how warm and loved you felt with him.

No matter how hard Mark hurt you, you didn’t regret falling in love with him. You’d do it again and again.

We never got it right Playing and replaying old conversations Overthinking every word and I hate it 'Cause it's not me And what's the point in hiding Everybody knows we got unfinished business And I'll regret it if I didn't say this isn't what it could be

Two days until the wedding

Mark shook you softly and tried to wake you up. “Hey, Y/n. We’re here. Wake up.”

“Just a little longer Markie.” You mumbled in your sleep as you held his hand. When you landed, Mark got scared again and just held your hand without asking you. You were asleep after all.

Mark’s heart was about to explode. He blushed at the nickname. You used to call him Markie every time you were sleepy or acting like a baby to get his attention.

And every fucking time he fell for it and his heart softened. “Okay baby.” This time Mark stroked your hand with his thumb.

About three minutes later, the flight attendant came to wake her. “Sir, ma’am. You need to leave the plane. We landed almost ten minutes ago.”

You slowly woke up and stretched your arms. “What? Oh, sorry.” You stood up, a little too fast. Everything was spinning, Mark held your waist and you fell on his lap.

“Are you sure we landed? Everything’s spinning around.” You held your head, not noticing that you were on Mark’s lap. “Y/n, uhm, could you stand up? But do it slowly this time!” he still held your waist. “What? Oh, shit, sorry.” You stood up, a little slower this time.

“Y/n! Mark! What took you so long? What the hell?” Aera looked strictly but as she saw Mark’s arm around your waist she softened. “S-she’s a little tipsy.” Mark said, cheeks red.

“Of course, she is.”

“Am not! Oh my god, the weather is so good!” your eyes were slightly open but as soon as you saw the sea and the beautiful architecture your smiled brightly. You pushed Mark’s arm off and started unbuttoning your shirt.

Mark’s eyes widened, and Jaehyun turned around, he didn’t want to watch you take off your clothes. Aera’s mouth fell open and Mark kept on watching you. Your tank top under your shirt rose a little and Mark’s eyes travelled to your soft skin. You put your shirt in your handbag and took out your sunglasses.

Mark’s eyes never left your body, his eyes going up to your breasts. He needs to get away from you or he’ll lose his mind.

“You can turn back baby, she’s wearing something underneath.”

“J-Jaehyun maybe we should… you know.” Mark locked eyes with Jaehyun.

“What you mean Mark?” Jaehyun asked cluelessly.

“A car, you know, for the hotel.”

“Oh yeah right. Ladies, don’t move away, we’ll go rent a car.” Jaehyun kissed Aera and then they left.

“I’m going to kill him.” You breathed out after Mark left. “You won’t.” Aera posed next to you as you took selfies together. “I will. I hate him. He acts like nothing happened, like, like he never broke my heart. As if we’re old friends or shit like that.”

“He acts totally shy around you. I think you intimidate him. Did you see how he watched you when you took off your shirt? That idiot was and is so into you.” Aera always thought that Mark loved you, no matter what he did. You don’t date someone for months just for 50 bucks. “He’s a man. As soon as they see tits, they’re on their knees.” You laughed.

“Well, maybe you should let him kneel for you a little longer. I guess he’s into that.” She giggled.

“I can’t believe that you just said that.” You closed your eyes. “Well, Jaehyun’s into that.”

“Jaehyun’s into what?” Jaehyun asked as he heard his name. “Into me of course.”

“That’s why I’m marrying you.” He pulled her in for a kiss- a very steamy and hot kiss. “Hello? Keep it PG-13 please.” You looked at them with disgust in your eyes. Mark awkwardly coughed next to you. “The car is ready.”

You were in the backseat with Mark, he was a little close for your liking. “Your leg is touching mine.” You said. “And?” he asked.

“I don’t like it.”

“Sounds like a you problem.” He said back. “Excuse me?” you said in disbelief.

Jaehyun and Aera locked eyes for a second.

Aera turned the radio louder and it was your song.

“Y/n! Isn’t that your favorite song?!” she yelled through the music. Mark glanced at you. He remembered the song. You had your first kiss with Mark, and that song was playing in the background. You were in his car, just like right now, in the backseat.

“No. It’s not.” You said as you looked out.

“What? But it’s in your Spotify playlist. What was it called? Fav songs? Best songs? His songs? My songs?” she kept on asking and you couldn’t take it anymore. “’Our songs’ but I deleted that because that playlist was stupid. Now, please. Change that songs.”

Mark smiled to himself. You still had the playlist called our songs? Mark and you created that playlist when you were dating and you always listened to it, over thousand times and it never got boring.

“Fine.” She sighed. “No! Don’t change that song. I-it is my favorite song.” Mark said and you looked at him with furrowed brows.

“Okay.”

“Change it.” You demanded.

“Don’t.” Mark was looking at you too. “Aera, change the song.” You said through gritted teeth.

“Aera I’ll jump out of the car If you change it.” Mark threatened.

“He won, Y/n, sorry. He threatened with his life.”

You didn’t say anything because the song changed. You looked back to your phone, ignoring Mark.

“We’re here.” Jaehyun parked the car and you mouth fell open. The hotel looked stunning. “Holy shit. This place is fucking gorgeous.” Aera said happily. “Only the best for my fiancée.” Jaehyun was fucking cheesy but Aera loved it.

The hotel was not exactly like a hotel. It was more like little white house’s next to each other with a pool and a perfect view. The house was bigger than you thought, many guest rooms, a big room for the couple and a very big room for you and Mark, at the end of the hallway, far away from Jaehyun and Aera’s room.

“If you excuse us for a while, we have things to discuss in our room,” Jaehyun said as he winked at Aera. “But we’ll get dinner together. Don’t go too far, stay in your rooms or go swimming we don’t really care just leave us alone for an hour-“ Aera kicked his leg again. “or three.”

After unpacking your stuff, you decided to go to the pool. You changed to your black two-piece swimsuit and left your room and at the same time Mark opened his door and left his room. He was in his swim trunks and he stopped his movements as soon as he saw you leaving your room.

Mark tried to hide his gaze on your body, but he was quite obvious. “Stop staring.”

“I-I’m not staring.” He looked away.

“Sure.” You made your way outside, to the pool. It was extremely hot, you put your towel on the beach chair next to the pool and sat down, ready to put on some sunscreen. Mark entered the porch and looked at you. You put sunscreen on your legs and didn’t break the eye contact.

You wanted to tease him, provoke him so you put on a show. You slowly pulled the straps of your swimsuit down and slowly put the sunscreen on your neck and shoulders until you reached the upper part of your breasts. You didn’t need to look at Mark, you felt his eyes on your as he put his stuff down next to you.

“Mark?”

“Y-Yes?” he stuttered, his focus on your breasts.

“Could you help me? I can’t reach my back.” You said innocently.

Mark gulped, “Y-yeah I can, uhm, I can do that for you.”

Mark wasn’t the only one watching. You watched him too. You watched him take off his shirt and you couldn’t look away. He looked hot, hotter than before. Did he start working out? He caught you watching him and smirked at you. You threw the sunscreen to him and turned around. You untied the bikini bra but held it against your breasts.

He squeezed a little on his hand and slowly put it on your lower back, slowly massaging it into your skin. You didn’t know If his hands were cold or If the sunscreen was cold, but after he touched you, your entire body shivered. You got goosebumps, you even felt your nipples harden.

“Yes Mark, just like that.” You teased him again.

“Feels good?”

“Mhm…” you moaned.

His face was close to yours, you could feel his breathe against your neck. His hands slowly travelled down, slightly about your ass. “Hands up, Mark.” You pushed his hands up again, you wouldn’t let him touch your ass.

You leaned back, your head was resting on Mark’s shoulder. You were sitting between his legs and you grabbed his thigh after he put a little bit pressure on your back. You weren’t going to lie- it really felt good. Your muscles relaxed, you closed your eyes and just let him touch you.

“You want me to go harder?” he whispered in your ear. “Yes, please go harder on me.” And he did. You squeezed his thigh, your hand travelled higher and higher, “Fuck.” He mumbled under his breath and when you stopped, you moved forwards. “That’s enough.”

You tied your bikini bra back up and turned to him. He quickly tried to hide his bulge with a towel. “Are you perhaps turned-on Mark?” you mocked him.

“Your nipples are hard. I guess you are turned-on.”

He was right. You were turned on and your nipples were hard. “No, I’m not. Why would that turn me on? My nipples are hard b-because it’s cold. And stop looking you pervert!” you crossed your arms in front of you and made your way to the pool.

“Cold my ass.” He mumbled.

You slowly entered the pool, step by step. The temperature was good, you hoped your nipples would calm down. You watched Mark enter the pool, he was on the other side looking at you.

“This is my side and that is yours. Stay on your side and don’t bother me.” You told him strictly. Mark nodded and watched you. You just stared at each other and then Mark dove into the water. He swam towards you and when he got out, he was right in front of you, face, and hair wet. Chest rising and falling, eyes on you. Mark was really close, like, really close. You could feel the bulge against your thigh.

“What are you doing?” you asked.

“Swimming.” He caged you in his arms and pushed your body softly against the wall. He looked at you and the beautiful view of Greece and the ocean he had.

“Swim on your side of the pool.” He was annoying you so much.

“I have a better view from here.” Mark said as he looked you in the eyes. “Fine, you can stay here-“

“Don’t go.” He whispered. “Why? I’m blocking your view.”

“You are the view.”

You didn’t say anything back- you couldn’t. Your heart was beating against your chest, breathing got difficult and you couldn’t calm down. He was so close, you were about to lose your mind.

Mark wasn’t doing any better. You looked ethereal. You looked as beautiful as the first time he had met you. You were even prettier and the way you were so cold to him was kind of hot. Mark thought that his feelings for you died but seeing you after such a long time only made him realize, that his feelings for you got even stronger.

He always asked Jaehyun about you, but Jaehyun punched him and told him to fuck off because he had hurt his girlfriends’ best friend and his own friend, too. In Jaehyun’s eyes, Mark was a great friend, and he would trust him with his life, but after what he had done to you, Mark lost the right to know about your life. Still, Mark tried to find out If you were feeling any better after the breakup. If you were happy without him in your life, but he always failed and reaching out to you would be the worst thing he could do to you.

Mark’s hands were on your waist. He pushed his body against yours and he knew how nervous you were, but two can play this game.

Your hand was on his toned stomach, caressing it softly and then going down. You never broke eye contact and when your hand landed on his crotch, softly squeezing his bulge, he let out a moan. You were bold, you kept on playing with his bulge and Mark’s lips were attacking your neck. He placed soft kisses and started sucking.

“Fuck, Y/n. It feels so good. Please don’t stop.” He moaned as he squeezed your waist slightly. Before you could realize what exactly was happening, your phone rang.

“Ignore it.” Mark mumbled, his lips leaving your skin for a second.

“Mark- no.”

“Please… I’m so close.” He kissed your neck up to your jaw. You wanted to keep doing whatever the fuck you were doing with fucking Mark Lee, but your phone never stopped ringing. “You’re close?”

“Yes baby, so close.”

And you stopped your hand movements immediately. “W-What no please-“ he begged but you pushed him away. “You’re a big boy, right? You don’t need me.” You stepped out of the pool and wrapped the towel around yourself. Mark was painfully hard, and he was about to cum.

You took your phone and looked at the messages you just got. Minho texted you and you realized that you just gave Mark a handjob, even though he didn’t cum, and you totally forgot about Minho’s existence. Not that Minho always had you on his mind.

“You have got to be kidding me.” You said.

Mark looked at you curiously.

You called Minho immediately, not caring If you lost so much money since you called someone abroad.

“What the fuck does that mean?!” you asked angrily.

“I’m busy- I can’t attend the wedding.”

“Busy my ass, fuck you. This is my best friend’s wedding, the least you could do is to come to the wedding and stay next to your fucking girlfriend.” You were so angry, you didn’t care about anything.

Mark didn’t want to listen to your private conversation- and he had to jerk off- but after hearing the word girlfriend, he stopped in his tracks and listened.

“I have so much work and it’s just a wedding- I’ll make it up to you.” Minho said but you were distracted by the voices and music. “A-Are you at the club? You promised you’d never do that again?!”

“I’m with some colleagues-“ he lied.

“It’s fine. I don’t have time for this right now.” You hung up without listening to him any further. You were exhausted, so fucking exhausted. You turned to your left and saw Mark watching you. “Who was that?” he asked.

“None of your business.” You were cold to him again. Mark was about to say something, but you left without giving him the chance.

The only thing on your mind right now was Mark’s lips on your body. You took a hot shower and changed into a pretty sundress, perfect for the hot weather.

Mark was under the shower, after he jerked off, you still didn’t leave his mind. All he could think about was you and the person to whom you were talking.

After an hour, Aera told you to get ready- you were all going out for dinner. You all got ready and left the house. You were in the backseat with Mark again, not exchanging a word with the three, you were in your own world.

When you felt Mark’s hand on your thigh you turned your head to him. “Huh?”

“Burgers? What do you say?” he asked softly and pulled his hand back. “Sure.” You just wanted to drink, you didn’t care about food.

Jaehyun parked next to a restaurant and when you entered, you were all shocked. It was a beautiful restaurant with a terrace and a pretty view. Aera was next to you, Jaehyun across from her and Mark right across from you.

It felt like back then when you were going on actual double dates. “I think I have a déjà vu?” Jaehyun laughed awkwardly. “Ouch!” Mark yelped. “Sorry Mark, I wanted to kick Jaehyun.” Aera said. “Why would you want to kick me?” he asked his girlfriend. “Babe, shut up.” It was so awkward.

Mark looked at you, he knew exactly what Jaehyun was talking about. “Do you guys remember when the waiter pushed Jaehyun’s head into the cake?” Mark laughed at the memory the four of your shared. You didn’t say anything, but the others laughed. “Oh my god that was hilarious. He tasted so delicious.” Aera winked at him. “Okay, well, uhm, I wasn’t talking about that.” Mark scratched the back of his head awkwardly.

“My baby likes it when her fiancée tastes like strawberries.” Jaehyun smirked at Aera.

“This is absolutely not something we want to hear, Jesus.” Mark said disgusted.

After finishing dinner, you walked on the beach together. “Hey, babe, what’s on your mind?” Aera pulled you back to talk to you. She knew something was up.

“I just- Minho isn’t coming and I’m not sad about it. Why am I not sad about it?” you asked her. “Thanks god- I mean, I think your brain started working finally. Do you even see a future with him?” she asked you. “No, I don’t b-but I’ll never have future with anyone- I guess I’m just not worth-“

“If you dare to finish that sentence, I’ll push you into the water.” Aera threatened you. “Listen, I know when you are happy, and there was not a single time you were happy in that relationship, not like you were with that dumbass-“ she pointed at Mark, “The last time I saw you truly happy was with him, and I’m not saying go get Mark, I’m saying that Minho isn’t worth it. You are too good for him and there’s someone who loves you so much and who deserved your love and attention. Not that looser.”

And your eyes never left Mark’s back.

Something inside you switched, you don’t need a man next to you to be happy, well definitely not a man like Minho- he wasn’t even a man. After all the tears and fights you finally opened your eyes, and you knew that you deserve better.

“Fuck this shit I’m breaking up with that piece of shit.” And you really did. Aera held your hand as you dialed his number and called him.

“Y/n? It’s fucking 4 am.” Minho said. “Babe-“ you heard in the background, but you didn’t fucking care.

“You know what, I don’t even fucking care. Do whatever you want- thanks god you aren’t coming. I don’t have to make memories with an asshole like you. Go back to your slut. I’ll get my stuff when I’m back. I’m done with you” And you hung up.

You felt better than ever before.

You didn’t feel like crying- you were happy, you wanted to make great memories with your best friend and after so many years, you finally broke up with Minho. You felt free and when you looked to your left, to the stunning view you had, you just smiled.

“I’m so proud of you. You know, there are a couple single friends of Jaehyun coming to the wedding, maybe you’ll get some dick.” She wiggled her eyebrows. “Jaehyun’s friends? Are we really sure about that?” you joked, looking at Mark again.

“You are right.”

Meanwhile, Mark and Jaehyun were talking about you.

“Dude, she was talking about someone not attending the wedding and like, she said girlfriend or something, I don’t know- is she… is Y/n dating someone?” Mark asked, he was scared of the answer. He had hope to get you back, but when you were someone else’s, he couldn’t do anything.

“Yeah, Minho. Such a piece of shit, like, he’s worse than you-“

“Hey!”

“Sorry, but like, what you did was an asshole move but he’s like constantly an asshole, I think that’s worse than being a dick just once. He cheats and yells and is so fucking disrespectful, if it weren’t for Y/n I’d kill him and I can’t believe that he’s coming to my wedding, god.”

Mark was shocked, you’re really dating someone like him?

“Why isn’t she leaving him?” he asked Jaehyun. “I don’t really know, they started dating right after you left, maybe she tried to move on with him.”

Mark knew he had hurt you really bad, but you tried to move on that soon? Why did you touch him like that when you have a boyfriend? Why did you let him kiss your neck and be so close?

“Let’s go to the club!” you yelled happily, and Mark turned to you. “Club?” he asked.

“Yes, the fucking club, I want to get wasted!” you sang happily.

And the next stop was a club. After a couple shots (Jaehyun didn’t drink anything except for water, he’s the driver), you and Aera danced on the dancefloor happily together. You felt so alive and excited, you jumped around and Mark couldn’t keep his eyes away from you.

The way your dress slightly rose and exposed your beautiful legs. He hoped nobody else was looking at you like he did.

“You’re staring.” Jaehyun said.

“Am not.”

“You’re so fucking obvious, it physically hurts me to see you like this.” Jaehyun patted Mark’s back.

“Do you think she still hates me?” Mark asked. “Well, I would.”

“That’s not helpful.” Mark gulped down another shot. “Alright, I’m sorry. She’s like, pissed, but I don’t think she hates you.”

“Baby! Dance with me!” Aera pulled Jaehyun to the dance floor and he didn’t resist. He had to show everyone that Aera was his girl, his fiancée. Dancing slowly turned into a make out session and not even five minutes later, they left the dancefloor and entered the restroom.

After dancing for so long, you returned back to your table. “What are you doing here all alone?” you asked Mark.

“Drinking.” He drank shot after shot. “Share with me.” You sat down next to him, really close. Your thighs touching and his gaze on your legs made you smirk.

“Let’s play a game. We’ll ask questions and If we don’t want to answer, we take a shot. Okay?”

You nodded, that could get really interesting. You ordered a whole vodka bottle and started the game.

“Ladies first.”

“What a gentleman. Well, okay, I got a question. Did you get to cum today?” you asked boldly. “I did.” He smirked at you.

“Okay, uhm, were you turned on?”

You took a shot, yes you were so turned on, but you wouldn’t say that out loud.

Mark looked you in the eyes, “Do I look hot?”

“So fucking hot.” Mark said without thinking.

“Do you want me to touch you?” he asked now, you took a shot, which was a pretty obvious answer to him. He put his hand on your thigh. He squeezed slightly. “I never said yes.” You said. “You also never said no. Do you want me to stop touching you?”

“It’s not your turn.” Which meant that you didn’t want him to stop touching you.

After a couple shots, Mark finally asked you the question he was dying to ask.

“Did you miss me?” his face was serious, and he looked you the deep in the eyes. Whenever Mark asked you a question to which you couldn’t say no, you took a shot, just like you did at this question. Mark knew that you had missed him.

“I missed you. So much.” He came closer, nose brushing yours. Mark pressed his lips on the corner of your lips. He slightly pulled back and you looked at you, you weren’t stopping him, so he continued.

The next kiss landed on the tip of your nose and then on the other corner of your lips. Mark squeezed your thigh with a little bit more pressure as he finally placed his lips on yours. Mark kissed you slowly and without realizing it, you kissed him back. You shut your eyes and let him kiss you. He kissed you with so much passion, so much longing and you cupped his cheeks to pull him closer.

His right hand held you by your waist and squeezed it, you gasped, and he put his hot muscle in your mouth. His tongue was playing with yours, he sucked on your lower lip and you could feel yourself getting wetter with every touch and every kiss. You forgot that you were in public, everyone could watch your heavy make-out session with Mark.

“M-Mark-“ you moaned.

“Mhmm…” he didn’t want to stop-

“Mark- there are people around -fuck- us-“ when he started kissing your neck, you lost it.

“Don’t care.” And he kept kissing your skin. “I can’t get enough of you.” He smirked as he left a mark on your skin.

You opened your eyes and saw Jaehyun and Aera coming. You pushed Mark away and acted like you didn’t just have the best kiss of your life.

“We’re done,” Aera giggled, “We should go back, it’s late and we should get sober until tomorrow night. I want to remember my bachelorette party.”

You just nodded, grabbed your purse, and left the club with the others coming after you.

The car ride was awkward. Mark wanted to hold your hand, but you tried to leave as much space as possible between you. Your head was spinning, you wanted him but the voice in your head told you to back off.

Mark was silent the whole ride back and after you left, he could finally breath again.

“The others are coming tomorrow, I trust my best man to take care of them.” Jaehyun and Mark talked on the way back to the house and you tried to ignore the fact that Mark was really walking right next to you.

“Of course, dude. You’re bachelor party is going to be crazy, by the way.” Mark planed something big for Jaehyun.

“No strippers.” Jaehyun warned.

“No strippers for you.” Mark teased even though he was suddenly not interested in seeing women, except for you. You were on his mind and you just didn’t want to leave.

That kind of hurt you.

You accidently locked eyes with Mark, and he wanted to punch himself. “I- I mean I don’t want them either- you know? I swear I didn’t book any strippers.” Mark tried to save himself, but you just rolled your eyes.

“We’re going to have strippers though, Aera.”

“What? Aera, babe, I thought we said no strippers.” Jaehyun pouted.

“I told her! Y/n No strippers!” Aera panicked.

“No strippers for you.” You mocked Mark and he glared at you.

“No strippers and that’s final.” Jaehyun said strictly like a dad, pointing his finger at me.

“I was just joking- don’t worry. No strippers. Promise.”

You could break my heart in two But when it heals, it beats for you I know it's forward but it's true

The next day was hectic. Family members and friends finally arrived and you, as the maid of honor, tried your best to be there for them and for Aera. Mark on the other hand just hung out with Jaehyun. The wedding is tomorrow and the bachelor parties are tonight. Aera was a little stressed, even with your help. She was talking with the catering company and you could see how exhausted she was.

“Aera, go take a long relaxing bath, I got this. I have your list and all of the information. Let me manage this, you need to relax and enjoy this. I don’t want you to stress.” You told her.

“You’re right, I trust you with this.”

You did everything you had to do. You were done with the check list and when you were about to go to your room to take a quick nap, a voice interrupted you.

“So, Y/n. Did you get hotter? Or is it just the weather in Greece?”

You turned around and faced Johnny Suh. A close friend of Jaehyun and he was always flirting with you, even when you dated Mark, but it was harmless. He was always nice and kind and you flirted back, just for fun of course and well, you liked making Mark jealous.

“Oh look at you! Long time no see.” You hugged him and the other boys trailing after him. Mark leading the boys and watching you and Johnny flirt right in front of him.

You hugged the others, and they didn’t know how to act, since Mark was glaring at them, which you didn’t notice.

“So Y/n, do you need any help?”  Johnny said, winking at you.

“I’m actually done with everything, I was about to take a nap.”

“A nap? Come on, we’re in Greece. Let’s go to the beach.” Johnny suggested and everyone agreed with him, even Mark.

You thought about it for a second. Going to beach sound perfect, who knows If you ever come to Greece again.

“Alright, I’ll go get my stuff and change.”

You changed to your bikini and a sundress. You packed your back, a couple towels, sunscreen, and your sunglasses. The boys were already waiting for you. Jungwoo, Mark, Johnny and Yuta were the only ones who wanted to go to the beach. Jaehyun was napping and the others wanted to go to the city.

You were sitting between Jungwoo and Mark. Johnny was driving and Yuta took the passenger seat. You pressed your legs together, you didn’t want to touch Mark’s legs. After everything that happened last night, you were scared and you didn’t know what to do. Mark wasn’t doing any better. It was so awkward and if he could, he would kiss you again.

Not even 15 minutes later, you arrived at the beach and it was such a beautiful view.

“Wow, it’s so beautiful.” You said with wide eyes.

“Not as beautiful as you are.” Johnny flirted and you softly hit him on the shoulder, “Shut up.”

Mark tried to ignore Johnny’s flirty behavior, but it was so hard, even back when you and Mark were still dating, he hated it whenever Johnny flirted like that with you. He didn’t even know why, he shouldn’t have cared, he was only dating you for the money, right? But now it was different. Now he cared even more, he wanted you and it drove him crazy that you ignored him all day.

When you settled down right in front of the beach, Yuta and Jungwoo dropped everything and ran straight into the water.

“They didn’t put any sunscreen on.” Johnny mumbled, “Can you help me put some on Y/n?” he asked you.

“Sure.”

Once again, Mark wanted to punch his friend.

The way you put sunscreen on Johnny’s back was quick, you wanted to annoy Mark, you didn’t want him to think that you were really interested in Johnny. Johnny thanked you and asked you if you need help too and when you nodded, Mark remembered when he put sunscreen on your back yesterday.

Mark smirked at the memory, you’re so beautiful and your moans were so pretty and-

Mark’s thoughts were interrupted by you.

“Johnny, you are so strong, it feels so good.”

How could you say that, Mark thought.

“Y/n are you still with that piece of shit?” Johnny asked you as he massaged your back. “No I broke up with him.”

“So you’re single right?”

“Fuck- Yes, single.” You closed your eyes and enjoyed the massage you were getting.

“Hyung, I think Yuta is calling your name.” Mark interrupted.

“I can’t hear anything?” you mumbled.

“For real, he called your name just a second ago, maybe you should go look after him.”

Johnny’s plan worked. Johnny could hear the jealousy in Mark’s voice. Johnny wasn’t really interested in you, yeah you were pretty and you have a great personality, but you were still Mark’s ex-girlfriend and Johnny knew that Mark still liked you, even though he never admitted that.

“Alright, maybe Mark can continue?” Johnny asked you.

“I don’t know… Mark’s not as strong as you are.” You teased.

“I am strong, did you forget about yesterday-“

“Okayyyy.” Johnny laughed awkwardly and left you two.

Mark placed his hands on your back, he softly massaged you. You were laying on your stomach and Mark slowly untangled your bikini straps.

“How is this?” he asked you as he put a little pressure on your back.

“G-Good, so good.”

“You like making me jealous huh?” his hand travelled down but he stopped right before your butt.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You said innocently even though you knew exactly what he was talking about.

“Oh baby, you do. You know what I’m talking about,” he put a little bit of pressure on your neck, “I really want to spank you for behaving like a brat.”

“Do it.”

“Don’t play with me.” Mark bend forward and pressed his lips on your bare shoulder. He left wet kisses on your skin and you closed your eyes and let him.

You missed him. You missed Mark so much. You wanted him and he wanted you, but there was still something holding you back.

You got interrupted by the ringing of your phone.

Mark pulled back and when you tried to stand up to reach for your phone, you forgot that your bikini was loose.

“Oh shit-“ you laid back and Mark giggled. He tied your straps back together and you finally answered your phone.

“Hi Aera, yeah we’re at the beach. Everything is done, don’t worry I took care of everything. Yeah be ready at 9 I’m not telling you what I’ve planned. The dress code is red and short. No Jaehyun won’t get jealous because he won’t get to see you until the wedding. Oh, I’m- I’m with Mark right now- would you shut up we’re not-“ you glanced at Mark who was already looking at you, “I’m hanging up now.”

Aera teased you with Mark, she asked you why you were alone with him and if you were doing dirty things with him.

“I’m going to the boys, are you coming?” you asked him softly.

Mark just nodded and trailed after you.

I wanna hold you when I'm not supposed to When I'm lying close to someone else You're stuck in my head and I can't get you out of it If I could do it all again I know I'd go back to you I know I'd go back to you

After your fun beach day, you got ready for the bachelorette party. Aera’s three other friends were also coming and knew about your plan. You booked a limousine and a VIP place in a club, it wasn’t much, but Aera liked it the traditional way.

After changing to a short red dress with thin straps, you put on makeup and you were ready to go. The others were also ready and Aera tried to hide herself.

“Jaehyun can’t see me like this- he’d rip this dress off me, then he would fuck me and then he would burn it.”

“Calm down, Johnny told me that they already left.” You assured her.

“Fine. Fuck I look so hot.” Aera opened her front camera once again and looked at herself.

“Yes you do and now let’s get wasted!!” one of her other friends said.

Driving in a limousine was fun, Aera popped the champagne bottle carefully and after driving around the city for 3 hours and having fun in the limousine, you arrived at the club.

You entered the VIP lounge and the night started perfectly. Everyone was having fun, dancing, and drinking.

Aera secretly texted Jaehyun that she missed him and loved him. She also left for about five minutes just to talk to him in the restroom.

“Where the hell were you?” you asked her.

“I was talking to Jaehyun I’m sorry I’ll turn my phone off now.”

And she did, of course after she texted Jaehyun that she was turning her phone off, she didn’t want him to worry and also have fun.

After that, Aera drank and danced like there was no tomorrow.

You were also having the time of your life, it’s been so long since you danced freely in a club. No, it’s been so long since you had fun at all. When you were with Minho, you never had any fun. It was always about him, his pleasure, his feelings, everything about him. All you could think about was Mark when you were with Minho. No matter how much Mark hurt you, when he was your boyfriend, he was always perfect. He valued you more than Minho ever did. You shouldn’t be thinking about Mark when you were lying next to someone else, but you couldn’t help it.

“Y/n?”

You turned around and your eyes met Mark’s.

“M-Mark? Are you real? Or am I dreaming?” you giggled, you were tipsy.

“I’m real,” he stroked your cheek, “This island is so small, we ended up at the same club.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck and he put his hands on your waist. “I was thinking about you the whole day.” you admitted, you were drunk and drunk you always said the truth.

“Me too. Couldn’t get you out of my head.”

“Are you drunk?” you asked.

“No, but I’m still telling you the truth. I missed you.”

“I miss-“

“Y/n! Jaehyun is here and he can’t see Aera, it’s almost midnight! It’s bad luck to see the bride before the wedding!” Aera’s friend giggled, “and she’s so fucking drunk and I’m so drunk too,” she giggled again.

You sobered up quickly, thanks god you didn’t drink much, there has to be someone sober enough to take care of everyone and you could never forgive yourself if anything happens before the wedding.

“I’ll take her back to the hotel, you guys can stay and have more fun.” You told her and she thanked you and told you to call if anything happens.

Mark followed you, he helped you carry Aera to the taxi.

“I’ll come with you.” Mark said.

“Don’t worry about us. I can take care of us, go have fun with the boys.” You smiled softly.

“No I want to be with you- I mean, I was bored anyway, and tomorrow is the big day, I should have some… sleep.” He scratched the back of his head nervously.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

When you arrived at the hotel, Mark helped you carry Aera to your room. She was going to stay with you for tonight, Jaehyun shouldn’t see her before the wedding.

“Sleep tight, tomorrow is going to be your big day.” you said as you tugged her in.

You turned to Mark with a small smile on your face, “Thank you. For helping me with her.”

“Of course. Uhm, do you, only if you want to of course, do you want to drink something with me? In m-my room if that’s okay for you. I mean it’s still early and I’m not really sleepy, you know.” Mark rambled.

“Yeah, sure.” You said shyly.

Mark opened the door and you entered his room. His room was clean and had a perfect view. Even at night, the view was beautiful. The lights in the dark, the moon shining brightly, it looked mesmerizing.

You stood in front of his window and Mark watched you with a smile on his lips to you, the view was everything but to Mark, you were everything. You looked absolutely beautiful to him.

Mark took a couple steps and was now right behind you. He wrapped his arms around you and put his head on your shoulder. You intertwined your fingers with his and pulled him closer to you.

“It’s beautiful.”

“You are beautiful.” He whispered softly against your ear.

You turned around, his arms still around you and his face so close to yours.

“I couldn’t tell you this in the club so I’m going to say it now,” you whispered against his lips, “I missed you too, Mark. I missed you so much.”

And without thinking twice, you both leaned in and kissed.

You closed your eyes immediately and you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him even closer, he did the same, he pulled you closer by your waist and pressed you against the window.

He kissed you gently and slowly, your heart pounded against your chest and Mark’s heart was racing, too. As if time stopped right there, as if they were never apart. Mark’s right hand was on your jaw, softly pushing your head up to get better access to your mouth, you let out a soft moan, Mark used the opportunity to meet your tongue.

The kiss was perfect, slow but still so passionate.

Mark pulled back, you were breathing heavily and heat rose from your stomach to your chest, a feeling you couldn’t really describe.

He left wet kisses on your cheek, down to your jaw and then your neck. You tilt your head back, Mark sucked on your soft skin as your hands tangled in his hair, lightly pulling.

You could feel yourself getting wetter and wetter, you just wanted to take off this dress and let Mark fuck you.

“D-Do you want this?” he asked you.

“Yes-“ you whimpered as he sucked on your sensitive spot.

Mark pulled you to his bed, with you on top of him straddling his lap. Your lips connected again, you tried to unbutton his shirt as he grabbed your butt softly and squeezed it.

You almost ripped his shirt, but you didn’t care.

It was your turn to press your lips on his neck.

Mark closed his eyes, the way his crotch met you when you pressed yourself against him, the way your lips kissed his soft skin, leaving pretty marks on Mark.

Mark couldn’t take it anymore. His pants were so tight, it almost hurt. He wanted to feel you, he needed to feel you. Mark changed positions, he was on top of you now.

“Take this off- please, fuck, take this off now.” He looked for the zipper of your dress and when he finally found it, he wanted to cry.

He took off your dress, and fuck, he was going crazy. You weren’t wearing a bra, only your black panties.

“Fuck, you’re so perfect.”

The way Mark looked at you made you feel so beautiful. You weren’t shy like you used to be, you felt good and you wanted him so bad.

You pulled him up for a short kiss.

Mark took off his pants as fast as he could and he was painfully hard. He couldn’t wait to be inside of you. His lips were on your nipple, he sucked on your breast and his hand was playing with the other one. After sucking on your one nipple, his attention was on the other one. “Mark- fuck, it feels so good. Please don’t stop.” You moaned.

You were so wet and feeling Mark’s cock against your thigh turned you so on.

While playing with your nipples, his one hand found your pussy. He stroked it over your panties, but then his hand travelled in your panties and he started playing with your wet pussy.

“Baby you are so wet. All for me?”

“Yes, yes. So wet for you, Mark.” You closed your eyes tightly. It felt so good to feel his hands on you again.

Even thought Mark wanted to taste you, he couldn’t take it anymore, he needed to be in you now.

“You can take me, right baby? I need to fuck you.”

“Please fuck me Mark.” You also couldn’t take it anymore, you needed to cum.

Mark took off his boxers and hovered above you. “F-Fuck I don’t have a condom.”

“You don’t have a condom? Why?” you asked him.

“Well, I didn’t think that I was going to fuck you here.”

“What if you’d met someone else here?” you asked curiously.

“I’m not interested in someone else. I want you- I always wanted you.” He admitted shyly.

You looked each other in the eyes for a couple seconds, he leaned in and pecked your lips. He pulled back and looked at you again.

“You can fuck me without a condom. I’m on the pill and I haven’t had sex in months,” You can’t even remember the last time Minho fucked you. “And I never fucked without a condom after I had sex with you.”

“Me too. I mean after… after you I haven’t fucked raw.”

“Okay.” You said softly.

“Okay.” He leaned in and pressed his lips on yours.

While kissing you, he slowly pushed his cock in you. You grabbed his biceps tightly, he stretched you, you haven’t been fucked in so long, you got even tighter.

Mark pulled back and looked at you. “You feel so good around me. So, so fucking good. I missed you so much.” With that, Mark pushed his entire length inside of you.

“Fuck-“

He was fucking into you, slowly but hard. You could feel his entire length and he always hit your sweet spot. “Right there- Mark, fuck.”

“I-I want to ride you. Mark, fuck.” You moaned.

Mark turned you, you were now on top of him.

You bounced on his cock up and down, his hands on your waist pushed you down and he thrusted his hips to fuck into you. Your hands were on his shoulder, holding him. Even though you wanted to ride him, he was fucking you hard and good.

“M-Mark I’m gonna cum. Fuck Fuck Mark-“

And then your climax hit you. You collapsed on top of him and he still fucked into you. “Fuck feel so good. Y-you feel so good.” Mark was so close and the way he kept fucking you overstimulated you. You clenched one last time and Mark came inside of you, painting you walls white. He moaned your name as he came and you could feel him twitching inside of you.

Mark wrapped his arms around you and pressed you against his chest. Mark pulled his cock out of you. You could hear his heart beating against his chest.

The night was perfect, after cleaning you up, you were wrapped in his arms once again. You talked about everything that night. Everything you had missed when you were apart.

“Can I ask you something?” he said.

“Sure.”

“Did you ever love him? Minho or whatever his name was.” Mark was jealous, even though you were in his arms.

“No, I don’t think that I’ve ever loved anyone, except for you. I always loved you.”

Mark smiled and kissed your temple.

“Why were you with him? Why didn’t you break up with him? Jaehyun told me that he’s an asshole.”

“After- after you broke up with me, I was… lost. I didn’t know what to do. I felt worthless and just- useless. He made me feel- wanted? I don’t know. I needed someone to forget you and he didn’t care. He never cared about me but he made me believe that he loved me. And that’s all I wanted. I just wanted to be loved.” You whispered the last part. A tear escaped your eye and you were quick enough to wipe it away. But Mark still noticed.

Mark felt bad. He never wanted you to feel this way. You were a dream. You were so perfect and it was his fault that you felt worthless. If anyone was useless, it was Mark.

“It’s my fault a-and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry that you felt that way, but it’s not true. You are so much more. You are perfect in every possible way. You are more than anyone could ask for. I’ll never forgive myself that I made you feel this way.” Mark teared up and pulled you even closer.

“C-Can I ask you something?” you asked this time.

“Y-Yes.”

“What did you do with the money?” you were always curious about that.          

Mark gulped hard, the memory pained him. “I gave it back.”

“What?”

“I couldn’t take money from a stupid bet, a bet that hurt you. I wasn’t proud of what I did. I wanted to forget that it happened, that I did that to you. I wanted to erase that from my memory. But I couldn’t erase you.”

“Why?”

“Because I love you. I loved you back then and I love you now. I never stopped loving you but I was too scared to reach out to you. I thought you hated me and it took me long to realize how much I love you.”

You looked up to him, you didn’t want to cry but your eyes were teary. “You love me?”

“Yes, I love you. I love you so much. There was not a single day without missing you, not a single day without regret eating me alive.”

“S-So you still love?”

“Yes. I love you.” He looked you deep in the eyes.

“I love you too.”

Mark smiled widely. Oh, how he missed hearing that you loved him.

“I’m sorry for everything.”

“It’s okay.” You pecked his lips but that wasn’t enough for Mark. He climbed on top of you and kissed you passionately.

His hand was on your naked thigh, stroking it softly. You were wet and when Mark put his hand on your wet pussy, you moaned.

Mark circled your clit and his tongue played with yours. It felt so good. He slowly put two fingers inside of your cunt and thrusted them in and out. You clenched around his fingers and you could feel your climax coming. Mark added a third finger.

His lips were back on your skin. Mark softly kissed your boobs and sucked on your sensitive nipples.

“Are you going to be a good girl and cum?” he asked you between his kisses.

“Yes- I’m so close.”

“Look at me.” His face was close to yours again, and when you looked at him, at his dark doe eyes, you came.

After you calmed down, you glanced at the clock in the room.

“Shit, Mark. It’s almost six in the morning. We need to sleep.”

You talked the whole night and after two orgasms and cuddling, you didn’t notice that it was already this late.

“But I’m hard.” He pouted.

“Do you want me to suck you off?”

“Yes, please baby, please suck me off.” He begged.

You were on the edge of the bed, your face right in front of his hard cock.

You slowly licked from the bottom to his tip. You pumped his cock in your hand a couple times before you put it inside of your mouth. After pumping him, you licked the slit on his tip.

“Babe- don’t tease me.” He whimpered.

“What do you want me to do?”

“Anything- but just please, do something.”

You put his entire length inside of your mouth, bobbing your head up and down and pumping the part of his dick you couldn’t put inside of your mouth.

You stopped bobbing you head and stared licked his tip again. “Babe- please. Please make me cum.”

Mark was going crazy. He needed to cum, his cock was so sensitive now, he twitched every time you licked or touched him.

“Okay, baby. I teased you enough, I’ll make you cum. You want to cum right?” you kissed his cock and he nodded. “Please. I want to cum on your face.”

You sucked his dick properly this time, he was so sensitive and so close, not even ten seconds later, he came on your face, just like he wanted to.

“Fuck, fuck fuck. That was so fucking good, babe, fuck.” Mark was breathing heavily, the intense orgasm tired him. You cleaned you face, fortunately he only came on your face and inside of your mouth.

You crawled back to him and kissed his lips. “Thank you.” He thanked you. “I love sucking your dick.”

“No, well yeah thank you for that too but I’m thankful for everything. Thank you for forgiving me.”

“I love you.”

“I love you.”

And you fell asleep in his arms.

I'd go back to you I'd go back to you What was there, wasn't sure But I'd go back to you I know I'd go back to you

Not even three hours later, your alarm clock woke you and Mark up.

“I don’t want to leave you.” You mumbled.

“I don’t want you to leave either. Stay a little longer.” He kissed your shoulder.

“I can’t I have to wake up Aera. It’s her big day, it needs to be perfect.”

“Everything you do is perfect.” Mark flirted.

“Shut up, I’ll see you later okay? Thank you for last night.”

“I love you.” He leaned down and kissed you. After kissing for two minutes to pulled back again. “I have to go.”

“Just five more minutes.”

Almost thirty minutes later, you tiptoed to your bedroom. Aera was wide awake playing with her phone when she saw you.

“Where the fuck were you and why are- oh my god.” Aera understood immediately. “You bitch fucked Mark didn’t you.”

“Yes, and now shut up and get ready for your wedding day!”

“I know I know, but like, I’m happy if you are happy. Are you happy?” she asked you worriedly.

“Yes. I’ve never been happier I think.” You smiled. You were really happy and so in love with Mark.

“Then I’m happy.”

Hours later, you found yourself in your maid of honor dress, looking absolutely gorgeous. Mark was helping you with everything. With the catering company, the guests and everything else that needed to be taken care of.

Mark stole kisses from you here and there and now he pulled you back to his bedroom and kissed you intensely.

“You look so stunning- I can’t stop staring at you. I love you, pretty girl.” He kissed you again.

“M-Mark fuck, you look so hot and I really want to fuck you, b-but, fuck we can’t.” you closed your eyes and let him kiss your neck.

“Okay, okay. I’m trying to stay calm, but fuck, you look so good I want to rip that dress off.”

“We’ll have the whole night. Let’s go back, people are going to get suspicious.”

When you went back, you met Johnny and Yuta on your way.

“Where are you two coming from?” Yuta asked.

“My bedroom- ouch.” You kicked Mark’s leg.

“What were you doing in your bedroom?” Johnny asked amused. “Do you want me to show you?” Mark asked with a smirk.

“Mark? What the f-“ and then Mark pulled you in and kissed you fully on the lips.

He could finally show Johnny that you belonged to him, that you always belonged to him.

“Well I guess we saw that coming.” Yuta laughed with Johnny. The two left and you were still kissing.

“Ew! He is eating her Mommy!” you heard a little girl scream.

You pulled away immediately and apologized.

Mark laughed his ass off as he walked you to Aera’s dressing room. “I’m going to eat you tonight. But not your mouth. I’m going to eat your cunt.”

“I can’t wait. I’ll see you at the ceremony alright? I need to stay with Aera now.”

“Okay baby.” He kissed you goodbye.

The wedding ceremony ended so quickly, next thing you knew you were in Mark’s arms slow dancing. Aera and Jaehyun’s wedding was truly beautiful. Everything went smoothly and you were finally resting in the arms of your lover.

Aera and Jaehyun were also slow dancing and smiling happily. Not only because it was the most important night of their lives- also because their best friends were finally happy together.

“Y/n?” Mark said your name softly.

“Mhm?” you hummed with closed eyes.

“I’m really sorry that I put you trough all of that, and I’m sorry that it took me so long to realize my real feelings for you. You’re the most wonderful person I’ve ever met in my entire life and I’m going to do everything I can to keep you in my arms. I don’t want to see sad ever again. I’ll love you until my last breath.”

You promised yourself you weren’t going to cry that night, but a couple tears still escaped.

“You know, I was hurt but I healed and I’m more than ready to do this with you again. It was you. My heart always longed for you, and I don’t think that there could be anyone I would love as much as I love you. You could break my heart thousand times, I would go back to you over and over again.” You looked up to him, he could see the love you felt for him in your eyes.

“I love you.”

“I love you.” And with that, Mark pressed his lips on yours and kissed you with so much love and adoration.

I'll go back to you I'll go back to you I know I'd go back to you I'll go back to you I'll go back to you I know I'd go back to you

[whiteqnn]

PURE [4] - Corpse Husband x Fem! Reader

A/N: I’m back. Shout-out to my sister @mojajasnoscmrokirozproszy , who encouraged me into finishing this part.

part 1 

part 2 

part 3 

part 5

PURE [4] 

Corpse was confused, to say the least. He stared at the screen with his brows furrowed, not exactly understanding what just happened, or what caused Y/N to leave so suddenly. He thought they were all having fun, or at least that’s the impression Y/N gave while interacting with other players. 

Was she just pretending she’d had fun when in reality, she didn’t want to spend time with them? 

He knew it was none of his business. They didn’t even know each other, outside of these two short games they’ve both been part of. But Corpse was quick to get attached to new people, and Y/N’s sweet voice, her innocent demeanor, and pure personality made him instantly like her... 

Perhaps it wasn’t exactly a good thing that he felt so worried when she left, given the fact that two of them have spoken maybe for a few minutes since they met each other. But Corpse couldn’t help it, and certainly couldn’t stop this weird feeling that something was wrong and that he needed to make sure that Y/N was okay. After all, he was the only one who knew that she left. Except for his audience, of course. 

So the moment her white little astronaut suddenly disappeared, Corpse went on a killing spree. He didn’t even care about that whole finish my lyrics thing he decided to terrorize his friends with, he just wanted to finish this game and check on Y/N. It was obvious that she wasn’t telling the truth. Even though it looked like she was trying really hard to contain her emotions, he could still hear her quavering voice. It was too hard to hide, and he knew it firsthand. That’s why he made it his point to at least check on her.  

“Jesus Corpse, you just went full berserk on us...” Felix murmured when the last person was killed, and Corpse could see a sign victory on his screen. It didn’t make him smile though, not how it usually would. 

“It was great though! Let’s do it again, but maybe on the other map?” Sykkuno suggested, clearly very excited about this hide and seek game they’ve come up with. 

“Sure, let’s get the first one maybe?”

“Actually, would you guys mind if we had a little break?” Corpse asked before they could start another game. “We’ve been playing for a little while now...”

“Ah, yeah! Bathroom break!” came Rae’s response, followed by a few hums of approval. Corpse sighed in relief. He was afraid his worried voice would draw the attention of other players, but they didn’t seem to notice it. 

“All right, is ten minutes good?” asked Sean, and when everyone agreed, Corpse excused himself from his audience and muted his mic. He grabbed his phone and unlocked it, only to be hit by a sudden realization.

He didn’t even have Y/N’s number. 

“Fuck...” he cursed quietly under his breath, running a hand through his hair. How the fuck was he supposed to check on her? He couldn’t use discord, he was still streaming after all... Maybe Twitter would work? Nah, she probably wouldn’t even notice his messages. What was left then?

Of course. 

Sean.

Corpse didn’t even think about any explanation as he quickly typed in a message to the said man, asking if he had Y/N’s number. The response came almost immediately. 

“Yeah, I have. Why?” 

Okay, now what? He couldn’t just tell him what happened. Corpse knew that Sean and Y/N were close, but he felt like it wouldn’t be fair towards the girl if he told Sean what happened. Maybe she didn’t want anyone to know... Maybe she didn’t want to speak to anyone. 

Him included. 

But Corpse felt as if he had to do it because that was something he wished someone would do for him if the roles were reversed. To at least show that he cared, that she wasn’t alone with whatever it was that bothered her... 

Was he being intrusive, for wanting to make sure that everything was okay? And what if she was totally fine and he’d just end up making a complete fool out of himself?

“Not that I haven’t already made a fool out of myself...” he mumbled under his breath, his fingers quickly typing the response to Sean. However, before he could finish it, the said man’s name appeared on his screen with an upcoming call. 

It was so unexpected that Corpse almost dropped the phone.

“Um, hey man” he said after picking up, his hands trembling as he tried to come up with some good explanation as to why exactly he needed Y/N’s number. “Look I-”

“Does this have something to do with her disappearance?” Sean cut him off, leaving Corpse with his mouth hung open, utterly shocked.  

“I um- no. I just wanted to call her and... cause I don’t have her number...”

“Corpse, I heard what she had told you...” Sean sighed into the phone “I was flying around you after you murdered me.”

“I...” Corpse tried once again and again found himself at the loss of words. His brows furrowed suddenly as he realized something “Wait- are you still streaming?” 

“I left for a moment to grab something to drink and call Y/N. Don’t worry, I wouldn’t say anything on the stream.” 

Corpse sighed in relief. If Sean managed to somehow play it off, then his fans maybe haven’t figured out what was going on. He didn’t want them to attack Y/N’s social media with tons of questions she obviously wouldn’t answer. 

“Do you know what happened?” Corpse asked quietly, hoping that maybe Sean knew something more that would ease his nerves. He hoped that it wasn’t anything serious, that maybe Y/N just had a bad day. “She left so suddenly and I got a little worried...” 

For a moment there was silence between the two of them, Corpse impatiently awaiting an answer and Sean thinking about the right words... or wondering whether he should tell him the reason for Y/N’s disappearance in the first place. 

“It’s- ugh.” Sean groaned, before letting out a heavy sigh “It stays between us, all right? I don’t want others to start texting her out of nowhere, asking if she’s okay. She would probably kill me.”

“Yeah, absolutely” Corpse nodded his head rapidly, even though Sean couldn’t see him. 

“Okay... So I don’t know the exact reason of her disappearance...” he began, and Corpse felt his heart sink in disappointment. “But I have some suspicion.”

“Can you be a little more specific, Sean? We don’t have much time before the next game...” Corpse didn’t want to sound rude but he was slowly growing impatient, and even more nervous when he still wasn’t able to check on Y/N and make sure that she’s okay.

“She received lots of hate after our last stream.” Sean finally explained, although his voice sounded quite reluctant. “And when I say lots, I mean lots, Corpse.”

“What?” Corpse grunted, his brows knitted together in confusion “What do you mean?”

“Oh you know, man... Comments on Twitter, on her Instagram, even under her latest video...” Sean let out an exasperated sigh “Apparently, some people are not happy that she’s playing with us.”

“Why?” Corpse managed to utter, completely shocked at the news. For some reason, it was the last thing he expected Sean to say. It didn’t even cross his mind that someone as sweet and polite as Y/N might have to deal with this kind of issue. 

She was always so kind, why would anyone hate on her? 

“You know how some people act online...” Sean murmured, his voice clearly gloomy, as opposed to his usual cheerful tone. “They think she shouldn’t be playing with us cause she’s not popular enough. Some consider her annoying, not funny enough, and so on...”

“What does popularity have to do with who we’re playing with?” Corpse almost growled these words, feeling anger slowly bubbling up in his stomach. He couldn’t comprehend why anyone would act this way towards Y/N, towards this little angel as Sean put it last time they played, towards this sweet, innocent girl, his partner in crime... 

“That’s what I told her before the stream” Sean explained with a sigh “And that she shouldn’t worry about what strangers think of her... but it’s easier said than done.” 

“You think she received another text or something?”

“I don’t know man” Sean sighed “I tried calling her like ten times already and she didn’t answer. It’s not like her to leave so suddenly, without saying goodbye. I’m worried something happened...” 

Corpse clenched his jaw, closing his eyes for a second. If Y/N didn’t answer Sean’s calls, why would she answer his? They barely knew each other, while Sean was her best friend.  

“Maybe... I’ll try calling her?” Corpse suggested anyway, his voice low and almost shy. He figured it was worth at least a try. 

Sean was quiet for a moment as if contemplating what to do. They were already running out of time, and Corpse didn’t know what to do. On one hand, he didn’t want to end the stream and leave his fans, he felt bad at the thought alone of disappearing so soon and disappointing them... But on the other, he couldn’t just leave Y/N like that. Especially, since as Sean explained, it wasn’t like her to act this way. It only proved that whatever happened was rather serious.

“Y’know what?” Sean suddenly said “I’ll give you her number, maybe she’ll pick up from you.”

“Thank you, Sean” Corpse said quietly, ready to end the call, only to be stopped by Sean’s words. 

“Look... I know I shouldn’t be asking you to do it, but... could you maybe try talking some sense into her?” he asked, clearly uncomfortable with this request “I feel like you’d be able to calm her down...”

“I...” Corpse stuttered, running a hand through his hair “I’ll try, okay? I’m not sure if she’ll want to talk about it though, I’m basically a stranger, so...”

“Corpse, she agreed to join us only after reading your last tweet.” 

Oh. 

His heart fluttered with something that didn’t seem like growing panic. And even though his face was expressing his worry, his lip corners formed a small, bashful smile. And whether he liked it or not, his cheeks turned completely red.

“I’ll... I’ll see what I can do” he managed to reply, before ending the call. 

Corpse ran a hand through his locks and down his face, releasing a heavy breath he didn’t know he was holding. He considered getting Y/N’s number a difficult task which, however, turned out to be the easiest one. Now came the real challenge. Calling her. 

For a moment, he just stared at the screen of his phone, scanning the new message from Sean, which consisted of Y/N’s phone number. It looked as if he was memorizing the number when in reality, he just felt panic overtaking his body and complete chaos in his mind. 

Let’s say she picks up the phone, and then what? Should he just say hi? Introduce himself? 

“Hi it’s me, the guy you basically don’t know and who became paranoid after you disappeared from the game” 

 Yeah, sure. Perfect introduction for the pep talk he was supposed to deliver. 

Why was it always that he acted almost as if on instinct one second, only to start having second thoughts a moment later. He couldn’t back out now when he had already got her number. Not when there was also another person counting on him. Not when he still didn’t know what the fuck happened, and for some reason was determined to find out. 

And then was the problem of his voice, which suddenly seemed stuck in his throat. It was a very weird feeling, typical for one to get while being on the verge of a panic attack. As if there was a need to talk, but the body refused to. As if his vocal cords were paralyzed and not eager to cooperate. 

As if it was him who just experienced something strongly upsetting, not Y/N. 

Corpse fidgeted with his phone for a moment, before deciding against the idea of calling the girl. He figured he wouldn’t be able to utter a single word if she picked up the phone from the unknown number in the first place. If she did though, she’d probably consider it some misdialed call or some prank. Which was the last thing he wanted her to think.

Instead, he opted on sending her a text. 

He sat still for a moment, thinking about a message that wouldn’t right away reveal the cause of his concern, but which would say enough to figure out who sent it. His thoughts drifted back to the game they were both playing, remembering his stupid comments and her gentle voice. His fingers typed out the message almost automatically. 

“Wanna jump into the lava with me?”

He hesitated just for a second, before sending the text, his heart doing a backflip in his chest the moment he pressed the send button. Corpse gripped the phone tightly in his hands, his eyes staring at the screen and waiting impatiently for those three little dots indicating that the other person is typing a response to appear. He waited and waited, and a lump slowly formed in his throat when Y/N didn’t respond immediately. 

Was he really getting paranoid? 

Maybe he was just tired. Or she had a bad day. Or she just found this game boring.

Or she didn’t want to play with them. Or she thought his comments were annoying. 

“I’m an idiot” Corpse muttered to himself and slapped a hand on his forehead, pushing those thoughts away. Deep down he knew that wasn’t the case, but the longer Y/N didn’t respond, the louder was the voice at the back of his head, telling him that her problems were none of his business and he shouldn’t be asking for her number in the first place.

But it was the right thing to do. He knew it, Sean knew it, and Corpse also hoped that Y/N did not perceive his text as some pathetic joke. He waited for a couple of minutes, before typing another message:

“I’m here, partner, if you need to talk.” 

He felt the need to assure her that despite the ongoing stream and the other players probably already waiting for him to return, he was there for her. That’s what he considered the best option, not to force her into talking, but to let her know that she wasn’t alone. And that it would take just one word from her to make Corpse drop everything and listen to her. 

After what seemed like an eternity of staring at his phone and analyzing his own messages, Corpse put his phone away, realizing that Y/N wasn’t going to reply anytime soon. He couldn’t help but feel disappointed in himself, and guilty as well. Perhaps it would be a better idea to call her, but at that moment he wasn’t able to trust his own voice. He thought about sending her another message but decided against it. Another new text was probably the last thing she needed, with her phone being drowned by hundreds of notifications from angered, and worried fans. 

All Corpse could do was hope that she saw his texts and that she knew she wasn’t all alone. He sure as hell wasn’t going to make her feel as if she was obliged to confide in him. After all, he was a stranger. 

Then again... sometimes to understand a problem and look at it from a different, new perspective, what one needed was, indeed, a complete stranger. 

-

The next two hours felt almost like an eternity. And a complete hell to Corpse. He tried his best to focus on the game and interacting with his fans, but no matter what, his eyes would drift towards his phone every now and then. Hoping to see Y/N’s name pop up on his screen, with a message saying that everything was fine. 

But then again... would it be enough to calm his nerves? Maybe she’d write something like that just so he wouldn’t worry. Just so he would leave her alone.

She might as well just tell him to fuck off...

The fact that he received so many notifications all the time, especially now, during a stream, didn’t really help. Each time his phone lit up with a new notification, he would crane his neck with the hope of seeing Y/N’s response, only to be disappointed when it turned out to be just some new comment or someone tagging him in an instastory. Something that usually made him really happy now was the reason for his irritation. 

He couldn’t focus on the game itself either, finding it difficult to do his tasks and form some logical arguments during discussions. He didn’t really care, to be honest, when people threw him away almost at the start of the game. Winning or being the best Impostor was currently the last thing on his mind.

So when he said his goodbyes after the last round of Among Us and ended the stream, after thanking his fans, Corpse didn’t know what to do with himself. The game, even though he didn’t really pay much attention to it, provided at least some distraction from his phone, which was still silent when it came to Y/N’s texts. She either didn’t see them or didn’t want to see them. Corpse could only guess what was her reaction if there was any. 

He’d exchanged a few messages with Sean though, the man asking about Y/N during the stream and after it ended. Corpse couldn’t stop the guilt from growing even more when Sean expressed his concerns regarding Y/N and her absence. He knew the older streamer counted on him when it came to checking on the girl, but, obviously, he failed at getting a simple message from her. 

What was he even hoping to achieve in the first place? That she will text back right away, telling him everything that bothered her, confessing all her problems? He would have to be a total idiot to expect this girl to react to his messages.

It was all so overwhelming and frustrating at the same time that he felt almost nauseous. 

Leaving his phone in his room, Corpse walked to his small kitchen to grab a glass of water. The cold liquid brought much-needed relief to his burning throat, giving him a momentary sensation of comfort. He tested his voice, clearing his throat carefully and mumbling some nonsense under his breath. A sigh left his lips once he realized he could talk again and this weird feeling disappeared. 

He splashed his face with cold water and returned to his room, plopping down on his chair and giving his phone a quick glance. Perhaps he didn’t expect Y/N to reply to his texts at all because at first, he didn’t even notice her name on the screen of his phone. He looked back to his computer, almost out of habit, glancing between the tabs he had opened on his screen before. 

And it struck him suddenly, making him almost jump out of his skin when he realized that she did text him back. 

Grabbing his phone quickly, he unlocked it and opened the messages, almost hitting the one with Y/N’s name on it. 

“Hey, partner.” was all the message said. And yet it made Corpse’s heart almost jump out of his chest, both from relief and a sudden feeling of panic. 

She texted him back. Now, what the fuck was he supposed to do?! 

He stared at her text for a second as if trying to convince himself that it was real and he didn’t accidentally pass out on his desk, dreaming that Y/N takes his comments and texts seriously. 

When he came to the conclusion that the text was, indeed, real, and Y/N probably expected him to write something back, he thought about the best way of asking her what happened. On one hand, he knew from Sean what could possibly be the reason for her disappearance. On the other, what obviously mattered was Y/N’s version. How to get it out of her though, without being too intrusive?

Corpse decided that the best option will be to make some dumb, small talk, which would ease her (and his) nerves.

“Y’know, I almost didn’t manage to finish the mission without you” he texted her, concluding that playing along this partner thing would maybe work. In his text, Corpse referred to the one time he was the Impostor after Y/N left, and which happened to be completely boring without her running around “Had Toast and others suspecting my every step all the time.”

This time, much to his relief, the three little dots appeared almost immediately.

“I’m glad you managed to kill’em all nevertheless.”

He imagined her saying it with that sweet voice of hers, which made him snicker, whether he liked it or not. While thinking of some right response, Corpse couldn’t help but wonder how did she know that he managed to kill every crewmate during that round... she wasn’t playing anymore then, so that could only mean she watched his stream.

“Not gonna lie though, everything would go way smoother hadn’t my partner in crime left me on the battlefield all alone :/” he texted her back. Corpse watched intently as the three dots danced next to Y/N’s name and suddenly disappeared, then appeared back again after a few moments, only to disappear again. And for a second he panicked, that maybe this text sounded passive aggressive, or that it made Y/N blame herself for leaving the game... 

However, when her response finally came, he realized he was wrong.

“Can I call you, Corpse?” 

For the first time in a really long time, Corpse was so eager to agree on a phone call.

He replied frantically, telling her that of course, she could call him, and then waiting impatiently for the call. And when she didn’t call immediately, like he expected her to, he found himself wondering if she suddenly changed her mind and decided against the idea of calling him. 

But then his phone buzzed and her name appeared on the screen.

The device almost flew out of his hands, his heartbeat quickening and a lump forming in his throat once again.

Relax, man. It’s Y/N, your partner in crime. You’ve heard her voice before. 

But this was different. The circumstances were different and the reason for a call was different too. And now it was just the two of them, as opposed to a lobby full of friends. And Corpse tried so hard to figure out how to convince her that all the hate she receives on social media didn’t mean anything, that for a moment he forgot she was still calling.

He pressed the green button carefully, as if he was defusing a bomb, and found himself unable to utter a single word, just like before. There was silence on the other line too, as if Y/N expected him to speak up first. 

So Corpse build up the courage and took in a deep breath, before letting out a quiet, almost shy:

“Hi”

 The word left his mouth almost as a whisper, and for a moment he thought that the girl didn’t even hear it, but then her voice told him otherwise.

“Hey... Corpse” she mumbled. She sounded so different, almost as if she was sick. Her calm and soft voice was so quiet that Corpse had some trouble hearing her at first. She sounded so tired, so hurt, so defeated, that he completely forgot every advice he had managed to stock in his mind before this call. 

“It’s good to hear you, partner.” he said after a moment, realizing that asking what’s wrong wasn’t the best thing he could do at that moment. He felt that she’d probably hung up on him if he did... “I didn’t think I’d hear from you after you aborted the mission.”

He heard her sigh out a laugh at his words, his tone playfully accusatory. The girl cleared her throat and wondered for a second, before replying:

“It wasn’t exactly my mission... And if I remember correctly, you were the one who broke our partnership, chasing me around the ship.” 

He could almost hear the smile behind her words, which made his lip corners curl up slightly. He was glad she still managed to joke with him. It meant that, perhaps, it wasn’t that bad. 

“Did I kill you, though?” 

“You would if you had a chance.”

“I had plenty of chances Y/N, and I never took one” he replied right away with a chuckle. “I may be the murderer, but I’m no traitor.”

“You say that after luring me to that lava pit and killing me and Sykkuno? It was a trap all along, wasn’t it?” she asked suspiciously, but he knew she was joking “I bet you were conspiring with MrBeast all this time...”

“How dare you” he scoffed, trying to hold back his chuckle “I took you there cause it’s a special place, it was no trap! It just happened to be the wrong place and the wrong time...”

“Sure, partner”

“I’m serious!” he laughed “Besides - I apologized, and if I remember correctly, I think we both agreed that I jumped into that lava pit for you after all...”

“After they voted you off! You didn’t have any other chance!”

“Maybe it was all planned?” he said, changing his voice to more mysterious “Maybe I conspired with MrBeast so I could jump into that lava pit... and the only way to do it is by being voted off. So, either way, I kept my word.”

“Fine... whatever.”

Their laughter died down and was replaced by surprisingly comfortable silence. Corpse was happy with how the conversation started - he believed it would be easier for Y/N to explain what happened now, if she wished to explain, of course. 

“Y’know...” he began after a second, deciding to change the subject and finally address the issue. “Partners are supposed to help each other... and be there when the other person is in need...”

He was careful with his words, being full aware that Y/N might find it uncomfortable to share her problems with him. He wanted to encourage her, just slightly, if his previous texts weren’t enough. 

She sighed quietly and he could sense her reluctance. 

“But only if the other person wants partner’s help.” he added after a moment, keeping his voice as soft as he could. Y/N didn’t respond right away, but she didn’t hang up either, which Corpse took as a good sign. He gave her a couple of seconds to collect her thoughts, before asking another question: 

“What made you so upset, Y/N/N?”

He could hear her inhale the air sharply as if she had trouble breathing steadily. The line went silent, not that Corpse was surprised. He waited patiently, giving the girl the time she needed to decide whether she wanted to answer that question and what words should she choose if she did. 

And when she finally spoke up, Corpse felt as if his heart could break.

“They are just so mean...” she almost whispered, her voice cracking. He didn’t have to ask whom she meant, it was obvious. “And I don’t even know why... I didn’t do anything to those people, and yet they are so mean towards me.”

Corpse hummed in response, allowing her to keep talking. If there was one thing he knew that helped coping with stress, it was sharing it with someone else. And even though he himself had a lot on his plate, he felt the need to be that someone for Y/N. 

“I... I don’t want you to think that I’m some crybaby, who takes everything super seriously and can’t take a joke, but...” she stuttered for a moment and Corpse fought the urge to cut her off and tell her that what he thinks of her is the complete opposite. “But those comments... those weren’t jokes, Corpse. I don’t think anyone would find them funny.”

His heart ached at the sound of her quiet, weak voice. And then it angered him, that some anonymous haters managed to upset this cheerful, innocent person. How could anyone do something like that to Y/N?

“I... I’m sorry for telling you this...” she suddenly trailed off, sounding rather awkward and uncomfortable. “I shouldn’t be bothering you with my silly problems...”

“They aren’t silly as long as they are problems to you, Y/N.” 

“Yeah, but... I’m sure everyone from the group has received such comments at some point of their career... or maybe they still receive them...” she murmured almost embarrassed. “Maybe it’s no such a big deal after all...”

“Let me ask you something” Corpse said, feeling anger bubbling up in his stomach. Not directed at Y/N, of course, but at the people who made her think this way. “Imagine that someone, let’s say me, calls you because of the same reason. Would you consider telling me that online hate, or any hate for that matter, is not a big deal? That those are just my silly problems” 

She was silent for a moment, thinking about his question, and probably not expecting it in the first place. However, after a few seconds of initial surprise, she replied firmly:

“Of course not.” 

“Then why are you trying to convince yourself that they are?” he asked in what would sound like an accusatory tone, but in reality was just his voice laced with worry. “There’s no such thing as a silly problem Y/N, as long as it bothers you. If you consider it a problem, then it is a problem. And the fact that other people receive similar, or even worse comments, doesn’t mean anything. Maybe just that they are longer on Youtube and they’ve learned to deal with this kind of stuff... And your reaction? It doesn’t make you a crybaby and please Y/N, don’t ever think that way about yourself.”

He said it all so quickly and almost on one breath, letting all his frustration out and trying to form his babbling into some logical statement. 

“I understand what you’re going through...” he confessed after a moment of silence between them. “I know what it’s like to go through the ocean of positive comments and find those few which say something completely different... something that is meant to hurt you and humiliate you... Something that ruins your day, or even a couple of next few days or weeks... Something that completely overshadows everything else you’ve read about yourself. Something that people write from the safety of their own computers or phones, without showing their faces and remaining completely anonymous.”

For a moment, Corpse allowed himself to speak about his own experience, thinking that maybe when Y/N realizes that he knew exactly what she was dealing with, it would make it easier for her. “And that is the key fact, Y/N, that they are anonymous. They do what they do because no one can see them because it is comfortable for them to leave a hate comment and not face any consequences. Because they don’t have to face the person their hate is directed towards.”

“Some of the accounts were not anonymous...” Y/N mumbled, and Corpse could clearly hear that she was speaking through the tears. “People were using their public accounts, with photos and everything...”

“But let me guess, those comments weren’t even about your videos, huh? They weren’t about any of your work?” 

“Well...” she whispered, thinking about Corpse’s question. “Truth to be said, no. Most of them just looked like some kind of a personal attack on me...” 

“Exactly. It’s not even criticism, it’s just plain bullshit cowards are sharing online. They probably aren’t even able to form some logical sentence, they just combine some random words which are supposed to hurt you.”

“It works...”

“Y/N...” Corpse sighed into the phone, hearing her defeated tone. “Let me ask you another question, okay?” she hummed in response, and Corpse cleared his throat. “Tell me, whose opinion matters to you the most?”

“My friends... and my fans’“she said.

“Okay.. and whom do you consider your fan?”

“Someone who finds the content I create interesting and entertaining and takes his time to watch my videos.” she replied right away.

“Okay. Do you think that people who left those comments took their time to even watch your videos?” 

“Probably not...” she replied after a second. “Look, I know what you mean Corpse... That I shouldn’t worry about it because they are not my fans and therefore their opinion shouldn’t matter... but that’s not the case. It’s the fact alone that for some reason people spend their time hating me when I didn’t even do anything to them.”

“You didn’t do anything to them.” Corpse repeated her own words in his deep voice. “And they didn’t watch your videos. It seems like they don’t have any reason to leave those comments, right?” he asked. “I know that it’s hard Y/N, I really do, but the truth is, you can’t really have everyone leaving positive feedback under your content... There will always be someone who will consider it a good idea to send you a hateful message, just because they can, not because they have any specific reason to. Now I don’t say that’s okay... but it’s in a way like some disease. The one there’s no cure for. Even though you can’t cure it, you can make yourself immune.” 

“How, Corpse? How do you make yourself immune to messages saying that you’re a fucking annoying bitch, that you don’t deserve what you have? That you don’t deserve your friends, and you are not good enough to play with them? To spend your time with them? How do you deal with comments suggesting that you should go and kill yourself, because you’re not famous enough, and you will never be?” 

Her voice suddenly rose, and Corpse felt as his heartbeat quickened with each comment she described. He gripped his hand around the phone, his knuckles turning white and his brows furrowing in an expression of pure fury. 

He considered her words for a moment, trying to come up with the best advice, but realized there wasn’t any that would satisfy her. He could imagine the state she was in, she probably wouldn’t take any of his advice seriously. And he wouldn’t blame her for that. 

“I’m sorry for snapping on you...” she suddenly said, her voice back to its soft tone. “It’s just too much for me to handle...”

“It’s all good, Y/N, don’t apologize. You have the full right to be angry and to show it. I just want you to remember that...” Corpse gulped the lump in his throat, feeling his cheeks getting warmer. “Those comments are not what define you. As a matter of fact, they’re not even about you. You know why? Because people who write them don’t know you. They don’t even take a moment to acknowledge what an intelligent and talented person you are, not to mention how kind... but I do. A-and everyone else too.”

She was silent for a moment, and Corpse panicked, that maybe he said too much, or made things awkward again. But then she spoke up, her slightly less weak than before.

“I suppose... maybe you’re right, Corpse.” she said, still sounding a little bit unconvinced. He understood, it was clear his one pep talk wouldn’t suddenly make her forget about it. It would be like telling a person with depression to stop having depression and expecting them to suddenly feel better. “Thank you. For listening to my pathetic babbling... and for not telling me to just pull myself together.”

“First of all, your babbling is not pathetic...” he began “Second of all... I know we don’t really know each other, but... If you ever feel the need to talk to someone, I’m here.”

“And for that I’m grateful, Corpse” she said, clearly smiling. “Sorry, I mean, partner.”

“Partner.” he chuckled into the phone, smiling from ear to ear. 

“It’s getting late...” she yawned into the phone. “Sorry. I think I’ll go to sleep, I’m really tired...”

“Of course” Corpse replied, hiding the disappointment in his voice. He really enjoyed talking to her, just to her alone, but he understood that the whole conversation and the event preceding it probably exhausted her. 

“Hey...” she suddenly said, and Corpse could swear that her voice sounded as if she unexpectedly became shy. “Um... it was really great talking to you, you’re a really good listener, Corpse.”

“Glad to hear that” he smiled happily.

“Um... would you mind if I called you tomorrow too?” she asked so quietly that he almost didn’t catch it, his breath hitching in his throat. “If you have time that is... if you don’t, or if you have some super plans, then I understand, it’s fine-”

“I don’t have any super plans, Y/N” he couldn’t help but chuckle, finding her nervous banter adorable. “Call me whenever you want.”

“Okay...” she sighed, almost in relief, but Corpse didn’t want to point it out to embarrass her even more. “So... let’s say, around 2 pm?” 

“Sounds good to me.”

“Great.” she said, her voice trailing off a bit. “I’m falling asleep here, Corpse... Thank you once again, for everything.”

“Anytime, Y/N.”

“Good night, partner.”

“Goodnight, partner.” 

-

Part 5 coming soon. It will probably be the last part of this series, I’m not sure yet though.

TAG LIST FOR PURE IS CLOSED. 

TAG LIST FOR CORPSE REQUESTS/OTHER FICS IS OPEN (if you want to be tagged, please send me a text)

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[phoenixyfriend]

soulmate au: 2 or 27 for rexwalker? (or rexanidala)

soulmate au prompts

2. the one where you have your soulmate’s name written on your body.

27. the one where you can transfer any injuries/pain your soulmate has onto yourself.

Once again featuring Marginally Less Terrible Jango, Hopeless Romantic Anakin, and Significantly More Awkward Rex.

Word Count: 5.9k

-----

Anakin doesn’t have a soulmate until he’s ten years old.

He’s already been at the Temple for half a year by then, and heard enough about how not having a soul mark is a good thing, for a Jedi. It means fewer temptations away from the duties they’ve all agreed to take on. There are people with names on their bodies, including Obi-Wan, who has two, but everyone agrees that while friendship with one’s soulmate is fine, especially if that soulmate is a fellow Jedi, it cannot be allowed to become too deep.

“I don’t understand,” Anakin admits to Obi-Wan, one night when he finds Obi-Wan looking at the name that wraps around his upper thigh, the one in the unfamiliar alphabet and cultured, perfect strokes. It’s a few months after he arrives, long enough to think they won’t kick him out just for asking questions, but not quite long enough to know what’s normal yet. His own soul mark is several months away, not that he knows it. “Soulmates were one of the few things a mas--an owner couldn’t take away from a slave. They could get rid of the mark, but we still knew. They were important, something the universe gave us that we could keep, even if it was only in our memories. Why do Jedi try to make it not count?”

Obi-Wan gets a look on his face, the one he gets whenever Anakin has a question that’s more complicated and philosophical than what Obi-Wan was ready for, the questions about why that he has to think about because it’s all normal for Obi-Wan, who grew up here, in ways that it isn’t (and will never be) for Anakin with his Tatoo heart and slaveborn mind.

“It’s not about the depth of the relationship in and of itself,” Obi-Wan finally says. “It’s about how you go about it, how you let it affect you, and if you let it get in the way of your duties as a Jedi, or put yourself at risk of a fall. It’s... it’s not banned, exactly, to love someone the way one would expect to love a soulmate, but it’s discouraged for our own safety and health. Losing someone you love hurts everyone, but for a Force-user to lose someone they consider so dear to their heart, there’s always a risk of losing one’s stability and going Dark.”

Anakin doesn’t entirely understand, but he pretends he does.

Obi-Wan scratches at the stubble he’s trying to turn into a beard, and says, “Okay, let me finish getting dressed, and then I’m going to tell you a few stories. You said you like learning through stories, right?”

Anakin nods.

“Okay, so... Bandomeer, I think. Melida/Daan and Mandalore, definitely. And we can round it out with what happened a few days ago,” Obi-Wan mutters. “I--most of those are planets.”

“I’ve heard of Mandalore,” Anakin volunteers.

“Yes, most have,” Obi-Wan indulges him, but he looks a little nervous. “Anakin, I... these stories all have to do with some very painful times in my life, times when I almost left, or did leave, the Jedi Order. I think--”

“You left the Jedi?”

“For a year, when I was a little older than you, but I came back,” Obi-Wan says. “I’m... can you put on some tea? It’ll make this conversation easier.”

“Is it about your soulmates?” Anakin asks, clinging to the doorframe just before he exits.

“...one of them,” Obi-Wan says, passing a hand over the mark on his thigh. “It’s... she’s why Mandalore is on this list, but that story won’t make as much sense unless I tell you about Bandomeer and Melida/Daan first.”

“Because you left?”

“Because I already knew what leaving could cost me,” Obi-Wan corrects, gentle but oddly stern. “Go put on the tea, Anakin. I’ll only be a few minutes.”

-----

Three months after Anakin hears about the times Obi-Wan was forced to leave, did leave, almost left, and threatened to leave (for Anakin’s sake!), the name of his soulmate comes in.

“That’s not a name,” Anakin says.

“Anakin--”

“That’s not a name,” Anakin says, more upset than he’d like to admit. The soul mark sits neatly on one side of his lower abdomen, warm and precisely lettered and absolutely terrifying.

CT-7567, in a dark, desaturated blue.

“I don’t think your soulmate is a droid,” Obi-Wan tries to joke. It falls flat.

“They’re a born slave,” Anakin says, and watches Obi-Wan stiffen. “Droids don’t get soulmates. Slaves do, but sometimes ma--owners don’t let slaves have names. They just give ‘em a number and that’s it. Supposed to make us more pliant and keeps us from having thoughts of individuality.”

“Them, Anakin, not us. You’re free.”

Anakin looks up at him, lip wobbling, and he knows a Jedi shouldn’t cry, not when he’s already ten, but he wants to any way. “My soulmate isn’t.”

“O-oh, okay, we’re crying now,” Obi-Wan mutters, clearly overwhelmed, and pulls Anakin to his chest. “It’ll be alright, dear one. Your mark means you will meet one day, and when you do, you can free them. Alright?”

“Okay.”

-----

“Skywalker? Sounds like a slave name.”

It’s a refrain that CT-7567 hears almost every time one of the adults sees his mark. They mention Tatooine sometimes. One of the bounty hunters that covers their weapons training gets angry if people point out the slave thing, and CT-7567 isn’t the only person to get a slave for a soulmate. She doesn’t explain it often, but there’s an incident when Rex is three that gives him a little more information.

“That one’ll be angry,“ the bounty hunter mutters, her lip curling when she hears the cadets gossiping about their marks again, sees CT-7567 pulling up his shirt to show off his own. She’s always like that, about the clones who have slave soulmates. CC-1010, who knows everything about everyone, says that she used to be a slave before she killed her way out. She’s definitely scary enough. “Name like that... Tatooine, human, might be a slave or might be freeborn from a line of slaves. Either way, that one’s going to be angry about it.”

“How do you mean, sir?”

Her eyes flick to his, and then back to the slugthrower she’s cleaning. “Tatooine slave culture knows things. Your mark on this “Anakin” is going to be your number until you get a name, and they’re not going to make the mistake of thinking their soulmate is a droid. They’ll know you were born to a purpose.”

It takes another year for CT-7567 to learn that she means ‘you were born a slave.’

(It takes two more for him to pick a name.)

-----

Anakin is not the only one in the Temple to have this kind of soul mark popping up. He is not even the first. The Council is investigating it, apparently, but they don’t have much to go off of. It didn’t start until a year or two before Anakin came to Coruscant, but enough Jedi are affected by the CC and CT soul marks for it to be concerning. Anakin gets called in to provide some information on what he knows about slave-designations in these circumstances, which isn’t much, and is barely more than what they already know, but they assure him it’s helpful. Something about corroborating the information a raised slave is taught culturally with the information a Shadow can collect from a community that doesn’t trust them. Obi-Wan explains that it’s about how Anakin knows information that was collected and taught, instead of information that has to be gathered, bit by bit, and analyzed.

It’s a long way of saying that Anakin knows things that other people don’t, because he wasn’t raised in the safety of the Temple.

Anakin doesn’t know many of the others, but he does know one even before his soul mark comes in, because their Masters are friends. They talk about it, and three years after they first connect over this, something happens.

“It changed! Anakin, Ani, it changed!”

Anakin drops the datapad he’s been doing history homework on, and looks up as Aayla, already in the suite, grabs his shoulders and shakes him a little.

“Aayla?” Obi-Wan calls, coming out of the kitchen with a rag in one hand and a wet plate in the other. “What in the--what are you shouting about?”

Knight Vos follows Aayla in--it’s a bit early to call him a Master, given that Aayla’s still not knighted, but it’s getting close--and leans against the door, arms crossed. “Kid was right. The mark changes when the soulmate picks a name.”

Aayla pulls down the shoulder of one sleeve, and Anakin sees that the designation number has changed. It’s not a regimented CC-5052 anymore, but a short, sweet Bly, with a flourish at the end that probably means this person is always going to be excited to sign their name.

“We already knew that,” Obi-Wan says. “When people transition, their name changes on their soulmate as well. This is the same thing.”

“We didn’t know that it applied to born slaves the same way,” Knight Vos says. “All we had was anecdotal evidence from the kid. Trustworthy, yes, but no data to back it up. And now we know.”

“I wonder how it’s meant to be pronounced,” Aayla says, and obligingly lets Anakin poke at the name that swirls on her shoulder in a vivid yellow against the blue. It’s pretty, he thinks. The handwriting and the color and what it means that the soulmates they’ve all gotten are finding ways to be people.

“How long until mine changes?” Anakin asks, even though he knows that nobody here has that answer. “Do you think all of them are going to find names? Or...”

“If they don’t by the time we find them,” Aayla assures him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders, “they will once they’re free.”

(In one life, the Jedi would have held their tongues and ducked their heads, hidden in denial and ‘we are their only option’ and ‘the Senate will use them regardless; we are a kinder fate than men like Tarkin’ and would never use the words ‘slave army’ to describe their men.)

(In this life, they are primed, from the moment a little freed boy explains exactly what a soul mark like this means to people like his, to see their army and say ‘we will free you.’)

-----

Rex

Anakin has his eyes fixed on the name from the moment his mark burns and twists and changes. He’s sixteen by then, and on a mission with Obi-Wan that prevents him from running to break into Knight Aayla’s room and show off to her the way she had to him. He’s not even on planet, but at least it’s not the middle of a fight. That could have been bad.

“Hey, Obi-Wan?”

“Hm?”

“I got a name.”

“For the assassin?” Obi-Wan asks, raising his head hopefully. “Did you get through to the guild?”

“...no, I meant, uh, my soulmate.” Anakin lifts his shirt, waits on that unfortunate dash of disappointment, and then Obi-Wan’s face lights up and the man practically scrambles over to get a better look. Anakin tries not to let himself read too much into it. It’s... nice, he thinks. That Obi-Wan is excited for him.

“I feel like half these individuals are picking names of exactly three letters,” Obi-Wan says, but he’s smiling as he almost touches the mark. He doesn’t, in the end, but Anakin wants to laugh at it anyway. “Rex, then. I look forward to meeting your young man.”

Anakin feels his face flare. “We don’t know that it’s a boy. I mean, there might be places where that’s a girl’s name. Or a species that doesn’t have our genders. Or--”

“I have a feeling,” Obi-Wan says, and laughs when Anakin pouts at him. “Oh, I wouldn’t bet my saber on it, but a few credits, at least. Nothing solid, but I was prone to visions as a youngling. Qui-Gon was never very good at dealing with the peculiarities of such a connection to the Unifying Force. He tried, admittedly, but he was very much a man of the present.”

Anakin spends the rest of the mission silently cheering on his soulmate for picking a name.

For taking that step to saying “I’m a person.”

-----

Someone tries to assassinate Senator Amidala. Anakin and Obi-Wan are assigned to protect her. There’s an incident with a robot, and Obi-Wan is... pulled aside.

(Anakin finds himself thinking, more than once, that he could have fallen in love with this woman if he wasn’t so attached to the idea inked into his skin.)

(Senator Amidala doesn’t have a soulmate. She’s free to choose, she claims. He doesn’t envy her, but he does respect this.)

(Anakin likes the security of the universe telling him that there’s someone he’s meant for.)

Obi-Wan disappears to investigate something, and returns just before Anakin and Padme are set to leave. He looks... grim.

“The assassination is more complicated than we thought,” Obi-Wan says. “As in, the main assassin was expecting this to fail, so we’d come find him after he killed the subcontractor.”

“So...”

“He wants to talk to us,” Obi-Wan says. “But, specifically, to the two of you.”

-----

“So, you’re Anakin Skywalker.”

Jango Fett is a shorter man than Anakin, shorter even than Obi-Wan, but he’s not small. The armor bulks him out further. There’s faint scars on his face, here and there, and he seems more amused than anything when Anakin slips in front of Padme to actually be the bodyguard he’s supposed to play.

“What’s it to you?” Anakin challenges, and pretends he doesn’t see the way Obi-Wan pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs.

Fett smirks. “One of my boys has your name on him.”

Anakin stops breathing for a moment.

“One of your boys?” Padme prompts, and Anakin tries to remember his job.

Fett’s smirk falls away and he palms his face. “Three million of them, and counting. I’ve had people cross-referencing soul marks as they pop up, in case anyone’s connected to someone... important. Special attention on the confirmed Jedi.”

“Three mill--you’re behind the ident number marks,” Anakin realizes. “The slave-born.”

Obi-Wan’s face looks carved from stone, and Anakin realizes that the mood he’s been in since he called Anakin and Padme was because he’d figured it out before he called.

“Yeah, Umiett said you’d be the one to make that connection,” Fett mutters. He shakes his head. “Listen, I’ve got three million clones that are more sentient than anyone told me they’d be, and I’ve spent the last few years trying to decide how to get myself out of this contract without abandoning them in the process. Tyranus gave me the job to assassinate Amidala, but I’d already had her shortlisted as one of the Republic members most like to help me get these boys citizenship and legal rights. Once I heard Skywalker and Kenobi were involved, turning this into a discreet way to get your attention seemed like the obvious solution.”

“You tried to kill me... to get my attention... so I’d help you.”

“I didn’t try to kill you. I subcontracted to a former acquaintance that I knew wasn’t good enough to get past two Jedi.”

“Right,” Padme says, seeming unimpressed. Anakin agrees. “Okay, three million sentients, all your children--”

“Clones.”

“--yes, something that’s very illegal in the Republic at that scale,” she says. “Unless--”

“Kamino’s in the Rishi maze. Dwarf galaxy, not actually part of the Republic. Isolated.”

“Okay, that’s... going to make this more difficult,” Padme says. “Where does your citizenship lie? Are you still Mandalorian? I’m not as familiar with your role in recent politics as I could be. I know there’s something about all violent dissenters being sent to Concordia, but you--”

“If I thought that hut’uunla Duchess would listen to me, I’d have already reached out,” Fett dismisses. “That’s part of why I focused on Kenobi and Skywalker when doing the research. Skywalker’s got the background to argue slavery, and Kenobi’s got connections in Mandalorian politics.”

“And I’m to be your voice in the Senate.”

“Not mine. The clones’.”

Anakin looks to Obi-Wan for guidance, because this man was involved with the attempted assassination, but...

“Who is Tyranus?” Obi-Wan asks.

“Oh, you’re going to enjoy this. The man calling himself Darth Tyranus is Count Dooku of Serreno.”

Anakin hasn’t heard Obi-Wan swear that colorfully since the last time he got stabbed.

-----

Things... progress. Quietly. Fett mentions there being a Sith in the Senate, something he picked up from a particularly ugly visit from the Count to Kamino, the kind of visit that involved veiled conversations intended as mocking, bragging monologues.

“He really is a villain,” Obi-Wan mutters, as if Anakin hasn’t seen him monologue to captured criminals on occasion, or get so caught up in The Banter that he lets something slip that he shouldn’t have.

Anakin and Padme go to Naboo to ‘keep her safe,’ and Obi-Wan hares off on a falsified investigation, keeping the Council updated the entire time. Anakin doesn’t like splitting up, not when so much is happening, but they have no idea who the Sith in the senate might be, if they even exist. Anakin doesn’t even have time to say goodbye to the Chancellor.

All this contributes, for Anakin is already stressed, and excited, anticipatory and afraid, and then the nightmares come. Padme’s more aware of his fears than she might have been, as much as they talk about slaves and freedom and how she makes things happen with words and legislation. Anakin’s a little in love with the idea of this woman, though he won’t act on anything until he meets his soulmate and figures out what they’re meant to be for each other, but... friends, at least. Padme is going to be a friend, possibly for life, and Anakin’s going to love her no matter what.

She coaxes out the truth, and then tells him, ‘well, your mother would know more about this than you, since you left at nine; it would be entirely reasonable to ask her for advice,’ and then smiles like they’re sharing a secret crush instead of plotting the violation of his orders.

They save Shmi.

(Barely.)

Padme doesn’t get the advice she was using an excuse from Shmi, but from a long, tired conversation with Beru Whitesun. As it turns out, when a family’s been freeing slaves for generations, they know what they’re talking about. Even Anakin remembers the Whitesun reputation. Padme’s notes are copious.

Anakin cares for his mother, and talks to his stepbrother, and gets an idea of who these people in his life are. He can’t imagine they’ll make contact often, but he’s glad to meet them. Cliegg--his stepfather, and isn’t that a thought--isn’t a particularly soft man, or a smooth one, but his gruffness has a different energy on Tatooine than it would on Coruscant. Anakin approves.

Obi-Wan calls. Padme explains. Anakin is shamed by his Master and then has to defend that particular title when Owen and Beru stare at him and the comm in matching horror.

“Master-Apprentice,” Anakin says, just a little panicked. “Not Master-Slave. He’s my teacher, practically family, not... you don’t need to worry. I promise.”

“I’ve seen them interact,” Padme says, and then shoots a small, smug smile at Beru. “Obi-Wan’s somewhere between father and brother to Anakin. It’s very sweet, when they’re together, and very entertaining.”

Beru, who’s had three days to get used to Padme, smiles and nods. “Alright then. I’ll take your words for it.”

Obi-Wan sputters a bit at the claim, in the background, and Anakin is... just a little upset by that.

“I think your mother would want to speak with him,” Cliegg claims, and Anakin hesitates, because this is a mission call, for all that gossip is happening, and he really shouldn’t break more rules after the big one he’s clearly, blatantly completely ignored to come to Tatooine in the first place. Cliegg holds out a hand, eyes on Obi-Wan. “As would I.”

“Well,” Obi-Wan says. “I suppose I do have a moment.”

-----

Anakin and Padme arrive on Kamino.

“Your mother,” Obi-Wan says, in lieu of a greeting, “is oddly terrifying, did you know?”

“She’s... still recovering,” Anakin says, brow furrowing. “She can’t leave the bed for anything other than the ‘fresher for weeks, probably. And she’s nice, how is any of that terrifying?”

“It’s her energy,” Obi-Wan notes. “Quietly intimidating, I’d say. Very odd, really.”

“What did you even talk about?” Anakin asks, and then blushes as Padme giggles at him, like she knows things that he doesn’t. She probably does. She’s older than him. Still.

“Ah, that,” Obi-Wan says, looking away for a moment and--blushing? Obi-Wan’s blushing? “She rather aggressively informed me of what is considered normal on Tatooine for a relationship that is, as Padme put it, ill-defined but close and familial.”

“Master, you--what?”

Obi-Wan rolls his eyes and steps forward, pulling Anakin into a hug. Oh. “I’ve been informed that the manner in which I show affection to you is rather understated and ambiguous, by Tatoo standards, and that leaving things unsaid isn’t enough.”

“...Obi-Wan?”

“I consider you my brother,” Obi-Wan says, into this hug that is stiff and uncomfortable, but sincere and full of effort. “And I do love you very much, dear one, even if I’m rather unpracticed in showing it in ways that would... translate, shall we say.”

“Oh,” Anakin says, because he can’t think of anything else. He hugs back.

There’s a moment there, where Obi-Wan relaxes and Anakin shifts, and everything feels just a tiny bit more right, and then someone coughs.

“If you two are done?” Fett drawls, and Anakin mourns as Obi-Wan huffs and pulls away, hands back to being tucked into his sleeves in front of him.

“Quite,” Obi-Wan says back, with the strained smirk of someone who’s been dealing with the same frustrating sentient for a solid week without the option of just bashing their face in.

Fett rolls his eyes, and gestures for them to follow him. “I’ve got a bunch of the Alphas and CCs waiting on you, along with anyone we know for sure has a Jedi soulmate. Kenobi’s already spoken with them all, got confirmation that we probably haven’t missed any connections.”

“I know the list of everyone who reported a CC or CT soul mark to the Council,” Obi-Wan huffs. “I have it memorized.”

“Because of Anakin?” Padme asks.

“His mark came in when he was ten,” Obi-Wan says. “I was his legal guardian until very recently. Given the circumstances, it was reasonable that most of the information on the ident-code marking situation be shared with me in the same way that his school reports and medical records were. He was a minor until a year ago, Senator, and as you so rightly pointed out, my role in his life is certainly that of the family member who raised him for the past decade.

“Master,” Anakin hisses, well aware of his blush. “You’re embarrassing me.”

Obi-Wan looks at him, amused. “I’m told that’s rather the point, dear one.”

Padme looks away, clearly fighting back a grin, and Fett’s expression is mocking, at best.

They enter the section of the facility where other people are a moment later, and Anakin is... not quite as ready for the sea of identical faces as he thought he’d be. One small boy in different tunics from the rest runs up to Fett with a call of ‘Buir!’ and falls into step with them, grabbing Fett’s hand and peering curiously at the rest of them.

“This is Boba,” Fett tells them. “He’s the only unaltered one.”

“The one you claimed at birth,” Padme clarifies.

“Decanting!” Boba pipes up, and then smiles winningly at Padme. “I wasn’t born. I was decanted. He claimed me at decanting.”

Fett looks like he wants to run a hand down his face. “Yes, Boba’s the clone that was provided to me as part of the payment I demanded when I first signed on to the project. He’s the only one I technically have legal claim to.”

“All the others are Kaminoan property until claimed by the Senate or Jedi,” Obi-Wan adds, and Fett nods in his direction. “Preferably the Jedi, of course.”

“The Nulls are with Kal Skirata,” Boba pipes up. “He adopted all of them and Kaminiise didn’t care that much because they thought the Nulls were all failed experiments anyway.”

Fett grimaces at the look that gets him from Padme. “They’re not mine. None of them would have wanted to be, anyway, but it stands that I haven’t spoken with them in years.”

“They’re precedent,” Padme corrects. “One I should have been made of aware of if you want this to work. Can you put me in contact with this Skirata individual? What’s his, and their, citizenship status?”

Anakin steps back to Obi-Wan as Padme drills Fett for information, and keeps his eyes wandering for threats--unlikely, if Fett is genuine, and Obi-Wan says he is--and trying to figure out the best way to keep track of which clone is which. They do feel different in the Force, but Anakin’s not as used to using that sense for identification as most Jedi. He sees a few scars and tattoos, but he thinks he’s going to have to--

Oh.

“Anakin? Why did you stop?”

Anakin ignores his master, because one of the clones, one he can’t even see, is glowing so strong and right and calling to him...

“Anakin, please answer me.”

“I can feel him,” Anakin breathes out. “My soulmate. I think I can feel him, in the Force.”

“Ah,” Obi-Wan says, relaxing. “Yes, that tends to happen, when we look. Fett assured us that he’d be at the meeting, dear. Just a few more hallways to go.”

Those hallways pass in a blur, because he’s there his soulmate is there and--

A room, full of clones that look older than Anakin, for all that they can’t be, and more clones that don’t.

There’s a clone in full kit, helmet included, but Anakin knows, just knows, that this one is his.

“Troopers!” Fett barks. “Kenobi’s brought some friends in. Senator Amidala’s going to be working on the citizenship bill with us. The other Jedi is Anakin Skywalker. You can guess why he’s--”

The fully-armored soldier takes a half-step forward.

Fett sighs. “By the ka’ra, Rex, you’re going to embarrass yourself and me. Take your bucket off, kid, let him see you.”

“Some tact, Fett,” Obi-Wan snaps, and for all that it’s quiet and intended to be subtle, the clones absolutely hear him.

They also seem amused. Apparently Obi-Wan’s been hanging about for long enough that he and Fett have a dynamic, one the clones have gotten used to and find hilarious.

Anakin only sort of notices this, because the clone in armor, still unpainted, pulls off his helmet and for all that it’s the exact same face as Anakin’s seen a thousand times over in the last fifteen minutes, there’s something uniquely beautiful that has nothing to do with the blonde hair or the nervous smile.

“You’re Rex?” Anakin asks, even though he’s sure, he’s absolutely convinced, that this young man is his soulmate.

“Yes,” the young clone says. He looks about Anakin’s age, and Fett’s told them time and again that the clones are basically the age they look, for the most part. Anakin’s going to take it slow anyway.

“Obi-Wan already said it, but, um, I’m Anakin,” he says, and tries to find something to do with his hands that isn’t just taking his soulmate and hugging him ‘til all the suns set. He looks down, and settles for mimicking Obi-Wan and just tucking them into his sleeves. He looks up at Rex, and tries to smile, but he’s so nervous about all of this that it probably doesn’t look like much. He thinks he hears someone snickering.

“Oh good,” someone mumbles. “They’re both hopeless.”

Anakin snaps his head around and glowers at the little group the comment came from, but he has no idea which one said it. All four look amused, and have varying degrees of shit-eating grin in place.

“If you didn’t outrank him, Rex would totally be shooting you right now,” little Boba says. “I think he’d deserve to do that.”

Anakin doesn’t have to strain at all to hear Fett’s groan.

“Alright,” one of the older clones says, and everyone stands a little straighter. An authority among the clones? Official, or more of an informal primus inter pares situation? “Rex’ika and his Jedi can go get to know one another, and none of us are going to make fun of them for it, because I know damn well how many of you have been mooning over the idea of your soulmates despite knowing literally nothing about them.”

“So’ve you, Alpha!”

“You want a boot up your ass, Wolffe? Because if you keep talking, that’s what you’re getting.”

“Boys,” Fett says, and they settle down. “Now, the Senator has some questions for you, and you’re going to comply when she asks, because it’s going to keep your little brothers alive. You understand?”

One clone raises a hand, and Fett sighs.

“Yes, and little sisters, Valierra,” he adds. He mutters something under his breath that sounds like “kriffing Basic.”

(Anakin later learns that Mando’a is not a gendered language, and Fett’s frustration is entirely about the fact that ‘brothers’ isn’t gender neutral. Anakin tries to ask why he doesn’t just say ‘sibling’ or use the Mando’a word, and there’s apparently a whole thing with some instructors wanting to encourage the clones to learn to be Mandalorian, and others wanting to cut them off from anything to do with the planet.)

(Anakin... tries to understand. He’s still confused about why ‘siblings’ isn’t on the table.)

“Go on, Anakin,” Obi-Wan says, looking somewhere between amused and exasperated. “We can catch you up later.”

“I got enough from Beru,” Padme assures him. “You can pop in to help us fine-tune later.”

Anakin nods, just a short jerk of his head, and then looks to Rex. The man is glaring at a little at a little group of other clones, but when Anakin reaches out and takes his hand--takes his hand--Rex turns and stares at him with wide eyes and a flush that Anakin’s sure he’s mirroring.

“We should talk,“ he blurts out, and he can feel Obi-Wan’s despair at how completely inept Anakin is at this whole ‘personal interactions’ thing, but that’s fine, because Obi-Wan’s a bit of a slut, and Anakin doesn’t flirt with everyone he meets, and he’s been waiting for his soulmate like a sensible person.

(“Or a romantic,” Vos had pointed out, once. “Most people date at least a little if they don’t meet their soulmate by, like, fifteen. I mean, culturally I understand why you want to wait until you meet your soulmate, but it’s not really a matter of sensibility, just personal preference. Obi-Wan’s not less sensible for sleeping around.”)

(Anakin does not like this argument, and so he ignores it.)

(Well, no, he agrees that people should be allowed to flirt if they want, but he doesn’t like the implication he’s gotten from a few other padawans about how he’s ‘awkward’ for not knowing how to talk to people that he wants to impress somehow.)

(So, he’s going to claim it’s sensibility.)

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”

“Kriff off, Ponds!” Rex barks out, immediately pinging on the exact clone that said the words, and Anakin bites a lip to keep from laughing at them both.

“Out,” Fett orders. “We’ve got shit to do, stop being a distraction.”

“Being a distraction, my dear, is a skill that Anakin’s put far too much effort into developing just to drop it on your command,” Obi-Wan says, light and airy and not at all like he just dragged Anakin and Fett for no Force-damned reason.

“Come on,” Rex mutters, tugging Anakin to the door with a blush that only grows as the other clones catcall them on the way out of the room. Anakin hears at least one particularly dirty comment get cut off by a smacking noise and a reprimand from a clone he thinks is probably Alpha.

The second they’re out of sight, Rex slows down, and glances back at Anakin.

Anakin tries to smile in encouragement. He’s not sure it works, really, but Rex smiles back, so it can’t be that bad.

“Here, Alpha told me to use the mini conference room,” Rex tells him, when the get to a nondescript door with a number on it. “It’s not completely secure, but we can lock the door so it’s mostly private.”

“Can I kiss you?” Anakin asks, and then has to fight to not clap a hand over his mouth.

He was going to go slow. He was a moron who’d promised himself to go slow. Rex is mostly an adult but there are ways in which he isn’t, and Anakin might not be fully an adult either, but that’s not really an excuse, and--

“Yes, please,” Rex says, and oh Anakin really likes the shy grin on him. It’s pretty.

(This man, he thinks, could easily bench press Anakin a few times over, but he’s blushing like a storybook maiden, and he’s doing it for Anakin.)

Anakin moves slowly, because this isn’t something he has much practice with either, but he takes Rex’s face in his hands and leans in, pressing their lips together with only the slightest tilt of his head, just barely less than chaste, and a firework goes off inside his ribcage.

His soulmate! He’s kissing his soulmate!

There’s a ‘stop projecting’ nudge from Obi-Wan in the Force. Anakin tosses up a shield and focuses back on the kissing. He pulls away, and the goes to just... peck a bit. Just small, chaste, tiny kisses because he doesn’t want to stop. Because for all that they just met a few minutes ago, this feels right.

Warm hands, larger than his own and steady in a way he thinks he really likes, settle on his hips.

“We--mm--really should talk,” Rex manages, and Anakin... well, Anakin stops kissing him.

Rex apparently likes it as much as Anakin does, because he lifts up onto his toes to kiss Anakin again before fully breaking off. He grins, clearly sheepish, and shrugs. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Anakin says, and then Rex pulls him down to press their foreheads together, radiating warmth and hope and affection that Anakin hasn’t earned yet, but is definitely going to.

“This is a Keldabe kiss,” Rex says, and his nose brushes against Anakin’s as he shifts. His hands are still on Anakin’s waist, and Anakin decides to wrap his arms around Rex’s shoulders. It’s nice. “I like, um, I like the other kind of kissing too, but this means a lot to me, and it’s one of those Mandalorian things they actually let us pick up.”

“Fine by me,” Anakin says, and he, hells, he hasn’t even asked for proof of the soul marks, but he doesn’t need to, really, with the Force as insistent as it is. “So. Talk?”

“Yeah. Let’s talk.”