#as a man. she and the other jet girls being forced and locked out and had it not been for valentina…

[favroitecrime]

finally watched west side story. #that scene from where anita and graziella reach for each other… yeah. one of two scenes that shook me to the core

[demonicbaby666]

Old Coping Mechanisms

One shot | Criminal Minds Masterlist | Masterlists

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Pairing: JJ x fem!Reader

Genre: Angst ending in fluff 

Words: 3k+

Warnings: alcoholism, addiction, shouting, rape insinuation, swearing 

Summary: Y/n and JJ have been friends for a while and recently y/n has began distancing herself as her mental health crumbles. When the team takes a case in her home town, she is uncontrollably thrown into her traumatic past and she turns to an old coping mechanism. 

The team were coming back from y/n’s hometown, the chaotic events that had unfolded over the last few days had opened up old wounds she had kept hidden for years. No one on the team seemed the same after discovering the unforgiving darkness that lay beneath y/n’s hard exterior and in her past. Her whole career was built upon being a strong powerhouse, no one could penetrate her well-built sturdy walls that had offered her protection her whole adult life. Yet now, after this case, they knew she’d been taken advantage of years prior, they’d met the man that had repeatedly abused her, made her feel weak, and made her small. 

That’s how they saw her now, small, and it ripped at her insides every time they gave her pitiful sympathetic side-eye glances. Small was one thing she was not, she could take any unsub on, and irritatingly her abuser had to be one of them, but she fucking did it. Not any of the team, she arrested him. 

She traced the discoloured bruise now forming on her upper arm thinking back to how that sad excuse of a man showed her that in the years that had passed, he had in no way changed, still only wanting one thing from her. But she got away when she was younger and knew she would again. His recent victims weren’t so lucky, and she was not prepared to let the fucker get away after repeating the unspeakable things he did to her and worse to so many other vulnerable souls. 

When she was faced with her old abuser, she was not a victim anymore, she refused to let herself digress into that little girl again, she fought with every single muscle in her body and took him down, though he managed to get a few blows in first. 

Yes, she did what needed to be done and did it flawlessly, but away from the front she was putting on, memories had begun to resurface. They flooded every nerve of her body and forced her to relive the trauma over and over again. It was inescapable and she was drowning in a hazardous pit of unprocessed memories, too afraid to let anyone see. 

That’s when a hand planted itself on her shoulder, anchoring her back to reality. Her head shifted up and her eyes locked onto concerned ocean blues, goosebumps coated her skin as she studied the facial expressions on the blonde's face who was hovering above her, clearly worried. The feeling of her hand, even through the thin material of her shirt, usually elicited a small reaction from her, though she chalked it up to the low temperature of the blonde hands. But today the chill that ran down her spine was something she didn’t have the energy to contemplate. 

Ignoring her heart thumping against her chest, y/n shrugged off JJ’s hand and turned back to staring out the plane, suddenly engrossed in the shapes of the clouds and the landscape displayed below. Obviously not getting the hint the older woman sat herself across y/n and glued her eyes to her. It was hard not feeling the hard gaze on her and it was almost painful to continue to advert her eyes, but she did so. 

Y/n’s eyes remained out the jet window as she finally broke the gut-wrenching silence between the two women, knowing if JJ started she’d struggle reeling in her emotions and really didn’t need to break down with the whole team watching her. “I’m okay JJ, and no I don’t want to talk.” 

As the blonde opened her mouth she was interrupted, y/n had spent enough time with her to know what would come next, not even having to look to JJ to know she was preparing words of comfort,” And yes I’m fully aware it may help, and you have open ears, but I mean it when I say, I’m fine.” She slowly brought her eyes back to those piercing blue ones. 

Though she’d never outwardly admit it, those eyes brought her more comfort and warmth than a fire on a cold winter’s day. They always made her feel safe and understood, it was overpowering. The feelings entrapped her, she began to lose herself in the solace of JJ’s presence and the blues of her eyes. 

“I’m worried about you y/n. I-” she sighed and looked down at her hands, beginning the fiddle with her fingers in an attempt to calm her anxious mind, “I don’t want you to shut me out.  I won’t let you. I’m here, always.” 

A small smile crept onto the young woman’s face, and she tried to conceal it, biting down lightly on her lower lip and once again adverting her eyes out the window. She knew JJ would never know the full power she had over her, she also knew she never wanted to depend on anyone for comfort. Hyper independence seems to be a way of life these days. 

If someone had the power to make her feel this safe with only a few words, or even just a look, they held the power to tear it all away and throw it in her face. The shadow of the smile was all but gone as memories and doubt found their way back into the forefront of her brain once again.

Her hands were beginning the shake and the control she was maintaining over her body was slipping away like quicksand. Forcing her muscles into action, she stood tall and strong and made her way to the toilet before JJ could get another word in. Missing the blonde’s limp arm, which was reaching out to try and comfort her. 

The door shut behind her and she flicked the lock, images flashed over and over, her body was frozen as she gripped the sink of the small cubicle, knuckles turning white. Hot tears ran down her cheeks and she repeatedly cursed at both herself and the man that made her feel this way. There was nothing she could do, no escape, she was transported to the same cold dark room where she was repeatedly assaulted, and memories engulfed her as the world around her began to fade away. 

The journey to her apartment was a complete blur, she took a backseat and let herself run on autopilot. By the time she got into the dingy lounge and perched herself on the couch, her eyes wandered down to her hands. No reaction came when she saw the plastic bag containing a bottle of liquor. Somehow, she knew, she was the one that bought it, never registering it she walked into a store and reached for the only thing she knew helped.

It had been years since she found her sorrows at the bottom of a bottle, then again, it had been years since she’d been back home. The memories were back, and so it seemed were the same coping mechanisms. At least this way she could take control of being out of control, that’s what she told herself. JJ popped into her head, she pictured the concern that was painted on her face and the love that those eyes held during their brief conversation on the jet. 

She wanted to reach for her phone and call her, confide in her, the internal conflict was that would mean she’d be reliant on her, she’d be letting her in, and this time she would be a lot more vulnerable. Letting anyone see her like that was beyond frightening. Impulses took over instead and pushed her to crack the bottle open. 

Laying on the floor half a bottle of liquor gone, the room began to spin. But y/n told herself it was what she wanted, for the world to become fluid and mailable, she revelled in the way nothing felt real. It was easy to convince and deceive herself into believing, wholeheartedly, that everything was okay. 

A knock erupted and echoed off the walls of the apartment evoking a loud groan to escape from y/n’s lips. With alcohol racing through her bloodstream, restraint flew out the window and she refused to move from her comfort space, bellowing out, “Fuck off!” 

“Y/n, please.” From the other side of the door, JJ placed a hand softly on the door, she saw the pain seeping maliciously through the younger woman earlier and wanted nothing but to hold her. After the jet landed everyone saw y/n zone out and just assumed it was her way of managing. But JJ knew better, in the last few months they’d grown undeniably close, and she could read her like a book. 

The recent case may have opened the team’s eyes to the harsh reality of y/n’s vulnerability, but the blonde had been witnessing y/n slowly change for weeks. The timelines suddenly made sense, a couple of weeks ago would have been the anniversary of when it all happened to y/n, when the abuse started. She’d began to distance herself, push people away and the bags under her eyes were stubborn as ever. JJ was forced to watch as the woman who she holds so dear slipped away out of her grasp and into the depths of an endless pit of darkness.

She was just an innocent child. The image of y/n being alone, having to endure all the abuse with no one to turn to caused JJ’s heart to shatter into a million pieces. Enough was enough, she was not about to lose the one person who seemingly held the biggest place in her heart. She would not let her suffer alone, not again, not when she knew what that young girl had to do to survive. 

From the other side of the door, JJ heard shuffling and thanked her lucky stars y/n decided to not be stubborn that day. When the hinges of the door creaked y/n was in full view, aside from the crappy lighting it was evident from her whole demeanour that something was off. She hadn’t changed, still, in the same work attire, her posture was slumped, and she was practically swaying. When the older woman attempted to head into the apartment y/n made no effort to move out of the way, keeping her feet placed firm in the doorway. 

JJ threw her a confused look, and a slight pang of hurt coursed through her body. She felt herself wanting to give up, but she would not be deterred so easily. This was y/n’s way of pushing her away, shutting her out. Throw me off a cliff and I’ll bounce back, she thought to herself. 

With neither woman opting to talk first, JJ curiously inspected the apartment through the door, and that’s when she saw it, adorning the lounge carpet was a half-finished bottle of pure vodka. Anger, sorrow, and disappointment found its way to her face simultaneously. Not sure which one to focus on. Of course, she was disappointed, she didn’t want y/n to turn back to this, though she knew the pain she’d gone through was agonising and left so many mental scars. It was hard not to understand how a bottle of liquor seemed like a solution. 

JJ’s face morphed again and again and it was hard to place what the woman was feeling, y/n could practically see thoughts racing behind her eyes. She followed her eye line and saw what caused the visible change and slight distress in the woman, she rolled her eyes in hopes of normalising the situation and reducing it to JJ overreacting. She finally sternly spoke up looking at the bottle, “Don’t fucking get involved JJ.”

Before y/n had time to snap her head back around, a body barged into the apartment and almost knocked her off her unsteady footing. She followed the blonde as the stormed into her lounge, trying her very hardest not to lose her temper at the sudden intrusion. 

“JJ seriously what the fuck?!” 

The moment JJ entered the lounge she grabbed the bottle and accusingly held it up, “Really? After everything, you turn back to this?” She didn’t raise her voice and seemed surprisingly calm and intrigued. There they were again, those blue eyes staring straight at her, stubbornly refusing to look anywhere but at y/n. She felt her eyes glaze over and it became evident that JJ’s continuous concern was taking effect, she cursed the blonde for always finding the cracks in her impenetrable walls and slipping in to provide nothing other than unconditional love.

She didn’t want to turn back to this, it was all she knew. It was the only thing that used to help; the singular problem now was that she wasn’t alone anymore. She had people that cared and wanted to help in any way they could. The woman looking straight at her for answers what the one person who seemed to care the most. 

JJ was the only person who knew about her drinking, it was under control now and she’d found ways to still indulge but not depend on beverages. The one time she did overindulge she leaned on JJ for support, it was readily and unconditionally given. The alcohol-soaked night was a blur, but she knew one thing, after all the drunken confessions JJ never looked at her differently and that was something that meant the world to the younger woman. Even now catching her relapsing she saw the look in her eyes, she wasn’t pissed off, wasn’t pouring the alcohol down the sink, she wasn’t taking control of her. She just wanted to help and listen. 

All the emotions y/n had worked so hard to lock away came crashing in and she crumbled under JJ’s loving and concerned stare. Tears stung her eyes and hoping gravity would work on her side she bent her neck, looking up to the ceiling, alas the unrelenting tears still came. Running down the sides of her face and taking home in her baby hairs. 

Footsteps slowly approached her and she came face to face with the blonde. She was pulled into a warm embrace as a hand wrapped around her waist and the other around the back of her head. Y/n didn’t fight back when JJ used her hand to lower her head so she was nuzzled into the crook of the blonde neck. Breathing in the scent of her golden honey locks instantly calmed her. The hand previously on her waist was now on her lower back moving in small circles. The security seeping from the embrace was enough to cause y/n to shake uncontrollably as she finally allowed herself to emote freely. 

A small kiss was placed to the temple of her head, and she grabbed onto JJ for dear life never wanting to be let go again. It felt like home, something she’d never found, but it looked like it was because this was it. Home was in JJ’s arms, in her warm embraces, in the small timid smiles they shared, the laughs they exchanged. 

She picked her head up and carefully placed her hands on JJ’s shoulders, looking into those ocean-blue eyes, they now appeared puffier and redder. She examined the beautiful face before her very eyes, not understanding how she got so lucky to have JJ to lean on. Then salty tears rolled down the older woman’s face, y/n cursed herself for making this soft, kind, and caring woman cry. Using her fingers she lightly wiped away the tears that rolled over JJ’s cheeks before mustering up the courage to speak. 

“I don’t want my past,” she looked to the bottle that was now on the table, “that was the only way I knew how to cope. So, I stupidly turned back to it.” 

Blue eyes softened and y/n could swear she felt the hand on her waist tighten. The alcohol was numbing all of her senses and it was hard to keep a grip on the events unfolding. She saw JJ’s eyes travel down to her lips. Y/n reached out and tugged a stray piece of blonde hair behind her ear. A smile appeared on her face as she revelled at how JJ’s eyes closed, and a breath of relief passed through those soft pink lips, tender lips begging to be kissed.

When JJ’s eyes fluttered open, she didn’t miss where the younger woman's eyes had settled. She realised somewhere between the crying and hugging both her hands were now firmly on y/n’s waist, which she was not complaining about. The smell of alcohol, unfortunately, deterred her from wanting to initiate anything, so she shuffled away a little from the close contact the two shared, earning her the most adorable saddening pout she’d ever seen y/n produce. 

With her hands still around the younger woman’s waist she continued, “I meant what I said before, I’m here, always. I want to help, I want to hold you, I want to protect you. I know no one can take away what happened to you, but this,” she gestured to the vodka, “isn’t the answer.”

“I know,” Y/n said lowering her head slightly, not for long though as a finger made its way under her chin to pick her head back up. 

They searched each other’s eyes for any doubt, darting back and forth between lips and eyes. It was taking too long, and y/n took things into her own hands, she pulled JJ in closer and was about to press their lips together when the finger previously on her chin pressed to her lips and stopped her just as their lips were about to meet. 

“I want you to promise me, you’ll call me next time. I- I care about you y/n and if this, us happens. It can’t be drunken kisses, it’s more for me, it’s always been more.” 

Before y/n could get a word in their lips met, and there in that kiss they formed an unspoken promise, this was her new way. JJ would hold her, keep her safe, and distract her in any and every way she could. 

The kiss itself was soft and slow, both women not wanting anything other than to enjoy the new sensations overtaking their bodies. Rejoicing in the softness of their lips gliding against one another. Time simply slipped away from them, until JJ heard three words against her lips causing heat to rush all over her body and a cheek-to-cheek grin to break out across her face.

“I love you.”

click here to be added to my tag list

[sl-newsie]

Teach Me To Love Hate You (Race x Fem Jet OC, enemies to lovers)

Here I am to request again! (*insert evil laugh*) So Race is doing so bad in school that he has to get a tutor. The problem is he gets stuck with this posh Jet girl and they absolutely hate each other. Tutoring is a mess. But one night when Race goes out to play cards against the Jets he’s playing against her, but she’s all dressed up! Turns out she’s a card shark, and wins by flirting with her opponent to get in their head. Her strategy works, and by the end of the night they're practically dating.

Davey’s POV

“Another F, Mr. Higgins.”

Our math teacher, Mr. Johnson, hands the man sitting in front of me his test. No surprise that Race failed considering he spends all his time goofing off. I’ll admit since I’ve met Jack and his gang I myself have relaxed a bit but not too much to have my perfect grades drop.

“Very impressive, Mr. Jacobs.”

I’m handed my own test, which I passed with flying colors. The bell rings and signals for us to head home.

“Go ahead, Davey,” Race groans. “Rub your perfect score in my face. I hate school!”

I gather my things and sling my bag over my shoulder. “I know book smarts aren’t your thing. Um, have you maybe considered being tutored?”

Race huffs and pulls out his cigar to stick in his mouth. “No way! I’ll keep my own perfect score of failing before I team up with one-a those bookworms-”

“Well that’s too bad, Mr. Higgins.” Mr Johnson approaches us. “Your failing grades have led the school to force me to assign you a tutor. You are to stay after school every weekday until 5. You will continue this until your grades improve.” The teacher gestures to the door. “Your tutor is waiting for you in room 215.”

I can’t believe it. Neither can Race.

“Are you serious? God, outta all things…”

The flustered student gets up and struts out of the room, causing me to rush after him.

“Maybe it won’t be so bad? It’s only-”

“Dave, of course it’s gonna be bad! I’ll barely miss the card tournaments at 6!” We reach the end of the hall where room 215 is. “I’m gonna be locked up with some ugly stiff trying to teach the unteachable-!”

“You must be Anthony Higgins,” a woman’s voice speaks as the classroom door opens.

Race rolls his eyes. “Yeah, that’s- Holy Jesus!”

Amanda’s POV

This is what I get? This is what I get for keeping good grades? Being forced to tutor someone? Mrs. Smith informed me this morning that I’ve been assigned to tutor someone all because I’m one of the top students. I don’t even go to Manhattan High! I’m only here for the math class! Sadly West Side High doesn’t have any higher up math classes, so I have to commute to ‘Hattan. 

I take a deep breath as I wait in the empty classroom. Just get through it one day at a time. The sooner you help him improve the sooner this headache will be over. The sound of approaching chatter alerts me to the door. Putting on a perky face, I walk over and open it. Outside I recognize Davey from math club, and the other must be the student I’m supposed to meet.

“You must be Anthony Higgins.” 

The man in question rolls his eyes and turns to me. “Yeah, that’s- Holy Jesus!” His jaw drops and I swear he’s having a stroke.

Davey waves a hand in front of him. “Um, Race? You ok?”

The blonde boy nods slowly, still gaping at me. I feel my patience slipping. Ugh. I am not staying after school to be ogled!

I grip the man’s shirt and drag him inside. “Thanks for dropping him off, David. I’ve got my work cut out. See you tomorrow!”

“Bye, Amanda!” The kind Jacobs man waves and shuts the door.

Race is still quiet. I steer him to a chair and push him down to sit. “Listen up, Higgins. We both don’t wanna be here. So let me make this perfectly clear: pay attention and smarten up!”

Higgins shakes himself awake and gets a lopsided grin. “Well hello, doll. Y’know friends call me Race-”

“I’m not your friend. I’m your tutor.”

My firm tone turns Race’s grin to a scowl. “Don’t remind me. I don’t think I’ve met you. I’dve remembered your lovely attitude.”

I stiffly take out some worksheets and slap them on the desk. “You’ve got some nerve, Higgins. I’m from West Side High.”

He snickers. “Ah, one-a Lorton’s gals. That’s where the attitude comes from!”

I roll my eyes. “Riff’s just a good friend. That also means that you shouldn’t try anything, understand? Just do these worksheets and we can be done for today. My whole life doesn’t revolve around school, and unlike you I actually have plans that don’t involve goofing off.”

“Well,” Race says cockily. “Since neither of us wanna suffer through this, whaddya say you lets me go early?”

That little-! That’s it. No more playing nice. I stiffly walk over to the door and lock it. It’s against school policy but I don’t care at this point. This cheeky moron is not gonna pin me for some softie!

“Hey! Why’d you-?”

I steer Race back into his seat with a firm hold. “Worksheets. Now! Before I really give you something to stress over!”

He’s shaken but still tries to keep confident. “Like what? The heartthrob you’s give’n me?”

“Like a black eye, dumbass! Now get to work!”

Race’s POV

God must have a sense-a humor ‘cause that tutor session felt like it took fifty years! It don’t help that my tutor is a stuck-up goody-goody. Jeez, for a moment I thought she was cute. I didn’t even get her name.

“Ey, Racer. Ya with us?” Jack asks.

“Um- Yeah. Just think’n,” I mudda as we enter the Jets’ hideout. 

“You? Thinking?” Albert laughs. “Never thought I’d see the day! What’s got you so worked up?”

“He has to be tutored now,” Davey explains from behind.

I roll my eyes. “Gee, thanks Davey! Why not announce my failure to the whole woild, why dontcha?”

“Don’t feel too bad, Race,” Crutchy tries to comfort me. “It took me a while to understand math too.”

“What I don’t get is how are ya so bad at math when ya count cards like a madman?” Spot grunts. “You’s bedda not get us kicked out.”

This week’s card tournament is be’n held in the West Side. I ain’t too noivous ‘cause Riff’s always too busy boast’n ‘bout his new construction job to play the game. That and Baby John’s poker face ain’t worth dirt. I can see through him like glass. So far the turn up looks pretty bland. Maybe folks is get’n tired-a losing? Where’s the competition?

“Evening gents,” Riff greets us as we gather ‘round the table. “We’s just wait’n on a few more players, then we’ll start.”

“Is Bernardo coming?” Davey asks.

The Jet leader smirks. “Wouldn't you wanna know, Mouth? Expecting Liliana to show?”

David blushes and looks away. Sure, he gets a pretty goil tonight. Of all people I expected Davey Jacobs to be the last guy to find a date.

“What about Mouthpiece?” I ask. “Can’t a guy see his own brodda?”

Riff shakes his head. “Bernardo called to say he can’t make it either. Only Baby John and Amanda are left to show.”

“Besides, one Higgins is enough to handle,” Jack groans. “We don’t need the matching pair.”

I’d hoid of Baby John before but the odda name ain’t familiar. With my luck it’ll be some ditzy dame who don’t know a spade from a shovel-

“Well well, hello again, mister Higgins.”

Amanda’s POV

“Are you kidding me?” I gape as I peer through the window. 

“What’s wrong?” Baby John asks from behind.

“Race is here, that’s what! That ding-dong plays cards here?”

“Actually he ain’t no ding-dong,” Baby John points out. “Race is one-a the best players in New York.”

I snort. “If he’s so smart, why do I gotta be forced to teach him basic algebra?” Perhaps that’s a question no one can answer. “Don’t matter. He’ll bend either way.”

“Gonna lay on the shark charm?” John questions with an arched brow.

“Ya bet.” I don’t always play by the rules. My secret is that after school I play tournaments as a card shark by flirting with players. Some frown at it but I’m proud of my acting skills. Plus any little money I can make goes towards helping my parents.

Baby John goes ahead and sits next to Riff at the table while I stand behind Race. 

“Well well, hello again, mister Higgins.”

The man’s head jerks up and he spins around to look at me with surprised eyes. It’s as if he can’t decide that I’m real. He looks between me and Riff with a stunned expression.

“Amanda, I see you know Race,” the Jet assumes.

My lips press into a firm line. “Yeah. Through tutoring. Now since we’s not at school can we actually have fun and play some cards?”

The oddas just shrug and begin to assemble the deck, while Race looks at me like he just won the lottery.

“Amanda, is it? Golly, I’ve never pinned you for a card gal!”

“There’s many things you’d be surprised by,” I say in a sultry voice. My suave charm automatically draws Race in and I see him starting to lose his senses. 

“Th- That’s some getup you’ve got on, sweetheart,” he mumbles.

His compliment is refreshing. Usually guys just eat my appearance right up with no thought-a be’n nice. Tonight’s outfit is a polka dot cocktail dress with a sweetheart neckline paired with simple red heels. I may be a card shark but I still got my dignity.

“Thank you,” I say whole-heartedly, but then regain my attitude. “I was starting to think ya couldn’t use that mouth for anything odda than back-sassing. Ready to lose?”

Race stares for a second then turns back to start gathering his delt hand. I decide to sit next to him for a better shot of distracting him. If I can get the oh-so-great Racetrack Higgins to falter at cards then I’ll have really set a record. Tonight’s game is Hearts and fortunately my hand is halfway decent. Lotta high cards plus the queen-a spades. Just enough to turn the tables and give everyone 26 points.

“You’ve been taking a lotta hearts,” Race says after a while, then says in a lower tone: “Wanna bet that you’d steal mine as well?”

Ha! He’s trying to play a card shark at her own game! This is too funny.

I pull on my best flirting smile and bat my eyelashes. “You tell me, handsome.”

That did it. Race’s face goes beet red and he goes back to staring at his cards. A few more hands go by and I continue to keep the lead. Luckily the oddas are too consumed by conversation to notice, all except Race. But for good measure to keep him distracted I slide my leg over to brush against his. This gets him shaking and all but hot and bothered. It’s working, but then why does a part-a me feel guilty? It ain’t a question that Race is a jerk sometimes but he’s still kinda handsome- No. I have a job to do. There's no holding back.

“Last hand. Who’s got the queen?” Davey asks as we all turn in our final card.

My smirk outshines all their oblivious faces. “I do!”

Jack chuckles. “You lose, Amanda.”

“Actually…” I fan out all the hearts I’ve collected. “I win!”

Everyone takes a double-take and groans. Another victory!

“Alright, you know the rules,” Riff grunts. “Pay up.”

The guys grudgingly take out their contribution and toss it onto the table. Maybe now I can afford to buy mom some good kitchen knives.

“Good job, Amanda.” Leave it to Crutchy to be the pro at sportsmanship. “You’re almost better than Race!”

“He’s right,” Spot agrees. “Hear that, Higgins? Ya got competition!”

The man in question has a stern look on his face. Instead-a answering he abruptly gets up and sulks down the hall to the bathroom. Sore loser. Can’t he take one defeat without holding a grudge? 

“We’s gonna head back,” Jack calls. “Send Race over once he’s done.”

The ‘Hattan fellas make their way out, leaving me with Spot ‘nd the Jets. Soon enough they too walk out and leave me alone to count up my winnings. After a few moments I hear footsteps and turn to see Race fuming with what looks like anger.

“You got spunk, sweetheart,” he remarks slyly. “Not many dames can get into my head the way you do.” All of a sudden he struts forward and leans me back to lay against the table. “Almost makes me wanna soak ya for that, but then that’d be wasting that pretty face-a yours.”

How is he so strong? Also why are his eyes suddenly quite catching-? Ugh! Get a grip, Amanda! Just take the money and go.

“You’re lucky Riff ain’t here right now,” I growl. “Oddawise you’d be talking through a mouth with no teeth for saying that.”

Race scoffs. “You batted your eyes at me, sweetheart. What’s your angle?”

“It’s part of the game! Jeez Higgins, you’re so used to card tournaments I thought you’d already know what a card shark is!”

“So instead of being one-a Bernardo’s sharks, you’re an actual shark?” Race dramatically clutches his chest. “That hurts. That hurts deep, sweetheart.”

I hiss in frustration. “Stop calling me that!”

“Why? ‘Cause every odda bum ya flirt with calls you that? Just how many guys have ya swindled to give you cash?”

In a fleeting moment of anger I slap Race across the face. “I ain’t your usual lady of the night, Higgins! For your information, every cent I earn through card games goes to my folks! Unlike you I use my skills to help people instead of boasting ‘bout it like a spoiled brat!”

Race blanks for a second but is still angry. “Boasting? I ain’t the one boasting, sweetheart. I’ll admit my skills is good but it’s Jack ‘nd the oddas that boast ‘bout it!”

“Then why do you suck at math?” I jab. 

“Maybe it’s the same reason why a clean-cut goil like you is a card shark,” Race replies. “I gots bedda things to do.”

“That don’t mean ya should throw your education in the trash!” I argue.

“I ain’t as smart as you, sweetheart. I know when to admit I’m no good.” 

Race suddenly gets a saddened look and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel bad. It ain’t his fault he’s not book smart but that don’t mean he’s useless.

“You still don’t get it, Higgins. Life’s more than just academics. But you still gotta put up with the tough stuff.” I loosen up a little and put a hand on his shoulder. “If you’re willing to cooperate, I could still tutor ya.”

Race laughs. “Ha! That’s a good one, sweetheart. Going soft on me?”

That son of a-! “Alright, fine! Go and fail math for all I care!” I lean forward and shove him against the wall. “To think I actually felt sorry for you, you snarky, hot, cocky-!”

“Whoa whoa whoa!” Race’s face lights up. “Lay that on me again?”

“I was an idiot to think you’re a decent human being-! Ah!”

The blue-eyed man tilts over and plants a kiss on my lips. In my shocked state I don’t know whether to pound him or kiss him back. The gesture melts away my anger in pure ecstasy. God, what’s this guy doing to me?!

“You think I’m hot, sweetheart?” Race gets a cheeky smile. “Can’t say I ain’t flattered. You’s a scrumptious catch too.”

My face twitches as I try to form a rebuttal. “I- I… I-!”

“Well, whaddya know! I got the card shark speechless!” Race softly places his own hand on my shoulder. “I say we’d make a great pair, hm? Before we kill each odda, whaddya say to a milkshake at Doc’s?”

He’s got me hook, line, and sinker. As a card shark I’m not supposed to fall for anyone I play- where did I go wrong? Race is a pain! Yet still kinda cute… Ugh! Why does luv gotta be so complicated?!

“I- I ain’t good with luv, Race,” I mutter. “The only hearts I’ve been dealt with are cards. I ain’t a normal date.”

No matter how hard I wanna look away, Race’s eyes still capture me in a helpless trance. I’ve been disassembled from a cunning card shark into a pathetic mess. All I can do is stare as the man runs a hand softly across my cheek and looks down at me with kind eyes; a completely opposite demeanor than 10 minutes ago.

“I don’t want a normal date, Amanda. A normal date picks at my habits and says I gots a gambling problem.” Race bumps his nose on mine. “You wouldn’t say that, wouldya?”

My breath hitches. “No, you- you’re amazing at cards. Anybody who says oddawise is a joker.”

Now Race’s face is mere inches from mine. “Still up for a date?”

A sassy grin spreads on my lips. “Think ya can handle me, Higgins? I am still your tutor, after all.”

He rolls his eyes. “Just lemme kiss you, ya mouthy tutor.”

And I do. Over and over and over, Race kisses up and down. All talk-a math and school drips away and I give in to this new-found feeling. 

“Never thought I’d fall for a bookworm,” Race mumbles between kisses.

I lightly smack his shoulder. “Remember this ‘bookworm’ just schooled you in Hearts, Higgins. You lost, remember?”

Race chuckles. “Yeah. Lost my own heart to you too, sweetheart.”

Tonight really was a successful game after all.

[pedroswhore]

To Break Old Oaths

I really want to apologise for how long this chapter taken, I have been so busy with my health and studies. It’s been hidden in my notes for so long, but I’m so excited for it to be finally released. However, I’m not gonna apologise for the lactation kink, because I know in my bones Din would probably have one and it would probably drive him insane. Again I have no regrets read at your own risk. (Also there will be hardcore smut, defiling, deflowering) what ever you want to call it in the next chapter.

xoxoxo

Pedroswhore

TW: lactation kink, smidgen breeding kink, mature language, violence, groping?, explicit description about death the author does not regret anything.

Chapter 7

The Mother

He knows.

 

His heart is erratic, and the knot in his stomach tightens. The same fear seeps into his skin.

 

He gives her until sunset to return; she doesn’t answer her comm, the door doesn’t open. It’s unlike her to be away this late; he knows that even in her anger, she would come back. She would not let him leave without saying goodbye to the kid.

 

He regrets it; he regrets seeing the anguish in her face and the way she wiped away her cheeks with the back of her hand. The way her nose turned red and her voice cracked when she pleaded. He was a bitter, bitter man; he wanted her to feel what he felt: frustration. He shouldn’t have used the kid to fuck with her or coerce her into coming with him.

 

The sun sets and she does not come home; he takes the kid and locks the houses. Drops the kid at the mechanic's house.

 

Silas raises his brows, and Din only replies with "something is wrong" as an explanation.

Not wanting the panic in his voice to be recognised. The mechanic clasps his hand and takes the kid.

 

It doesn’t take long to track her last whereabouts to the cantina. The only one in town, blood stains the floor, and he grinds his teeth. Hands covering his blasters, he scans the cantina. There are only a handful of people, some cleaning flesh off the counter. Others are pale and cradling their bottles. A body lies on the floor covered in a sheet. He doesn’t look; he knows it’s too large to be her.

 

People talk when blasters catch the light when he stands over them, sheathed in Beskar.

 

‘A girl was taken, a man died, and she didn’t scream."

 

He’s holding onto his blasters for purchase, and he's trying fucking hard to control the sheer panic that overrides him.

 

He will burn this planet to the ground if he loses her, set fire to every fucking thing. His blaster presses up against a man’s temple.

The man pisses himself when the mandalorian presses it further into his skin.

 Pale and sputtering his fear makes him speak

"they were dressed in black and that she probably was a whore."

Din doesn’t need the blaster. He holds him by the scruff of his neck before his knuckles meet the man’s nose, and he screams and bleeds. Din hears the bone break, and it doesn’t satisfy his rage or bloodlust. Another blow to the man’s face, and he starts talking, and the words leak out of him.

 

"A new ship in the dock; bounty hunters asking around for a girl".

 

He drops him and leaves the cantina as he jets to the only decking bay the damned planet has.

 

People speak the truth when they fear for their lives. He sits on the dock, and he thinks of her. And white-hot rage burns under his skin at the thought of their hands on her and at the thought of her being harmed in any way.

 

He storms the ship, forcing it open. It is weaker than the crest as it gives way to brute force. He isn’t quiet; his blasters are loud and clear, but the ship is empty. He calls her name, but there is no response. He checks every inch of the ship.

 

He assumes the worst, but he leaves the ship as his footsteps feel heavy but the warrior in him strides forward. The man in him wants to fall to the ground and claw at the Beskar at his helmet; he can’t breathe, and he groans lowly at the way his chest tightens. As images of her bloodied, lifeless flurry before him

 

He growls, shaking his head, clearing his mind. He is a hunter; he is a hunter, and he will find her.

 

He will always find her.

…

 

There is no blood between her legs, and she thinks perhaps death is better than this.

 

The waiting, the weakness—she is at everyone’s mercy except her own. Her nightgown has ridden up, and her limbs feel numb and heavy. They haven’t tied her up, knowing the drug in her blood won’t let her get any farther. She lies on the bed, legs on her side, and she should always be afraid. She should call no place her home, no man her own.

 

They give her food and jeer at her skin and the weight of her breasts. That the credits on her head are almost not enough to resist having a go at her.

 

She keeps her mouth shut, swallowing down her gasp of relief. She doesn’t know what it is supposed to feel like, but she doesn’t feel sore. Doesn’t feel a man’s release on her thighs.

 

 She wonders if he has left and taken his child with him, and she covers her mouth with her hand, choking back a sob.

 

Perhaps it is better this way; she doesn’t think she has it in her to run any more or to resist her capture.

 

The bounty hunters don’t visit her again until what she believes is the evening. They touch her, and she doesn’t fight; her cheeks are damp and her arms are heavy and sore, too sore to fend off men from touching her.

 

Grease-stained hands with dirty fingernails cup her breast, and she grimaces. The other draws her thighs apart, pushing her night gown up, and Lillia hopes they leave a blaster behind so she can be finished with this.

 

She doesn’t hear the shouting in the trance she has slipped into, and she doesn’t feel the men being pulled off her. Her eyes dart to the door in remnants on the floor.

 

A warrior pulls the men off her; he is quiet and calculated, he wields an ancient sword made of light. With a black whispering light, he cuts off the first's hands with ruthless precision.

 

Blood sprays on to her legs and on to his armour; he is unfazed, the reaper in the flesh, deathless and indestructible. As the seconds heads are swiped off his shoulders, she hears the sickening thump of his head as it falls, the way his body twitches as the corpse falls on to the bed, and a scream dies in her throat. As she crawls back.

 

A sound does not leave him He stands over his kill, looking at her. His shoulders do not heave, and he tucks his sword away.

 

And familiar orange-tipped fingers wrap around her ankle and pull, and she finally screams. She screams so loud that she coughs. He covers her with his cowl as he carries her over his shoulder.

 

She hangs, and she should be more afraid, but she feels relief; she knows his armour has cradled the warrior’s cheek.

 

Felt his arms settle around her at night and felt his mouth on her breast at dawn. She knows the mandalorian; he lives in her bones, and he gnaws at her heart. She is not as afraid as she should be.

 

It is strange to know him and to feel safe in his goddess-damned arms. People stare as he carries her, an armoured warrior striding down the square with a limp girl in a lace nightgown over his shoulder. They huddle together, whispering amongst themselves. But they do not say a word.

 

The mandalorian is not deterred; he walks as if he would cut down anyone who dares take her from him. Blood dries on his armour, and the girl on his shoulder is silent as she keeps her eye downcast, and yet she knows she is safer on his shoulder than anywhere else. No one stops him as he continues.

 

He sits her down on the bed; the crest is parked outside her door. He’s made the decision for her. What ground does she have to refuse him? He’s made her too dependent on him.

 

To evade her hunters for so long and then be so careless when her door had been marked, she was a fool to let the spotchka numb her. A fool to wander as if she were a free woman.

 

He’s grabbed her jaw, and he’s calling her name.

 

"Hmm," she says, still in her trance. Knees under her chin, her skin is ice. She's just watched the mandalorian desecrate her perfect room, pulling out her folded clothes from the drawers. He is not careful with her lace or her velvet.

 

He stuffed it in a bag and emptied out her vanity in another bag.

 

"Did they fuck you, girl?"

She looks up at him, eyes wide and unblinking, flinching at the crassness of his words.

 

Her stare pins him, and his helm stays fixed on her: "I need to know so I can take you to a med centre." There is no comfort in his tone; he is so unfeeling with his words.

 

But still, she hears the way he rushed out those words. She hears the slightest tremor in his voice: "Did they fuck you?" So much more rage coiled up inside of him than he let on. The bodies in that room were already bearing the brunt of his anger.

 

What if they did fuck her? Would he still take her? Would he still keep his promise? Would he still want her in that way? All spoiled another man’s ruin.

 

"No," she breathes, her knees pulled closer to her chest. "No, they did not rape me." The tension does not ease out of his shoulders.

 

She tries to mirror his crassness, but her words come out as if they have been dragged from her lips. He throws the object on the floor; it breaks, and the modulated growl that leaves him causes her to shudder and push herself further onto the bed.

 

His fingers grip the desk, and he draws his fist to shatter her mirror. It shatters, and she gasps.

 

The bloodlust has not left him, and she wonders what more he could have done to their mutilated bodies for revenge. What more could he have done with their detached heads and the limbless corpses he left behind?

 

"You don’t get to decide anymore," he snarls.

 

"Did I ever?" she murmurs. He had made up his mind when he first saw her; she knows this. When he saw the baby on her hip, the kids latched to her skirts. What a mother she would make!

 

What could she give? What could he take? He had long decided.

 

He ignores her, grabbing her nighties, her gowns, and her underwear, all stuffed unceremoniously into the bag.

 

"I make the decisions now; you’re going to stay on my fucking ship where I keep you safe."

 

His voice is heavy through the modulator, demanding her obedience as he commands her.

 

She does not acknowledge him; her eyes are on the picture she has framed of Rosie's first ever drawing, and a tear slips through the corner of her eye.

 

He slams the doors shut.

 

"Do you fucking understand?"

 

"Yes,” she whispers.

 

"Don’t move," he tells her before he takes the bags. He returns after a while, his movements hurried as if she would disappear if his eyes weren’t on her.

 

He pulls her up. His hand on her back is forceful as he pushes her out of the room.

 

"Wait," she says, moving away from his grasp and to her bed. She makes her bed fluff, fluffs the pillows, and takes the photograph from under her pillow, holding it to her chest. She also picks up the book from her nightstand.

 

And then she is where she is forsaken to be, next to the mandalorian, his hand on her back.

 

He leads her to the kitchen, and again she asks him from a distance.

 

She checks the stove, making sure it is not aflame, and then she takes a mug and a dish from the cabinet, along with a withered paper book whose pages are stained.

 

He leads her out, and she doesn’t look back; she can’t bring herself to do so either. She filled her home with children, and love romanticised every moment she had to herself, every moment she could spend living under the guise of freedom. Living audaciously, with fresh cut flowers and the children's drawings on her walls.

 

The crest is colder than she remembers, and she looks at the slab he had kept her on, she feels her back ache at the feeling of being pressed into it. She swallows her misery as he takes her to his bunk. He tells her to stay put like a dog, and she sits on his bunk. The sheets are worn but clean, and the mattress is thin.

 

He doesn’t own much, but he has books piled in a corner and a threadbare shirt thrown on the bed. She wonders if it was intentional.

She pulls it over her body, swallowing her pride.

 

The nightgown she loved is sullied by the hunters; by the mandalorian, the satin against her skin feels like a sin.

 

His shirt is comfortable, too big, ghosting her knees. She sits still, not saying a word even to herself. She wants to claw at him, pull the helm off his head, and see his eyes. See if they are really as cold as his demeanour. See if they hold any compassion or warmth for her.

 

It is her own flaw for expecting too much from him a gentle word, a touch that is not fuelled by lust or fear. She should be grateful that he keeps her like this, a woman to keep his bed and cock warm, to carry his son on her hip, and to lose herself in her own warmth.

 

The mandalorian returns, and Grogu is in his cradle, an orb that floats. She wants to hold him to her, to hold on to the only being who loves her unconditionally. But she dare not go against his father.

 

He doesn’t say anything when he sees her in his shirt; he just pulls out another. When he leaves again, she slips under the covers, shivering. Every time she runs, she wonders if it is worth living, and now that he’s made her his burden, maybe sleep will come easier to her.

 

It doesn't. She lays wide awake, exhausted, her eyes puffy; she has slipped in and out of crying silently. Her mother always told her she cried too much as a little girl; her brothers would come running, wiping at her tears.

 

She says their names out loud in the dark. She tries to remember their faces and their eyes, each as blue as the seas that had given them their names.

 

 They made her too soft for the life the goddess had written for her. And she resents them in a way, she resents them even in death, and perhaps time has made her bitter, but she has run out of fingers to count her losses on. Yet their names have been a prayer on her lips each night for six years, a prayer for peace.

 

The goddess seldom listens to her.

 

The bunker is pitch black; perhaps that is why, when she feels the mandalorian slip in beside her, she feels his damp skin pressed against her. Droplets of water wander from his hair to her neck, trailing further down her skin. His arm glides across her waist, and he pulls her to him, always skin against skin. The gun smoke lingers on his skin even after being washed away with soap. His nose is buried in the crook of her neck, inhaling her scent and breathing her in as if he cannot get enough as if she’ll slip through the refuge of his arms.

 

A hand slides up her shirt to rest against her breast, and she winces. When his fingers cup and press into her skin per habit.

 

"I'm sore, Mandalorian," she says, her voice heavy with exhaustion.

 

She can feel his body tense up, and he probably assumes that her soreness is the hunter's doing.

 

"My cycle is starting soon," she adds quickly, and his body relaxes. "Hmm," he grunts in response, sinking deeper into her, inhaling the scent of her hair and her skin.

 

His hand comes to settle against her soft stomach, the heat from his hand warming up her body. He’s only this kind in the silence and the dark.

 

The mandalorian sets the course for Nevarro; his bounties are overdue. They avoid each other during the day, barely meeting each other's eyes. She makes him dinner and sleeps in his bed. She leaves Grogu in the cockpit with his father often, and Lillia wonders if he speaks to him with a little more softness.

 

He leaves her alone on the ship when he goes to deliver a bounty, taking the kid with him in his floating cradle.

 

She takes out a book from his collection, puts on a nightgown, and sits in his chair in the cockpit, socked feet on the console. She shivers, but the Mandalorian will warm her up at night with his hands around her waist.

 

He doesn’t touch her during the day; he doesn’t say a word to her, only silently lifting up her dress to apply Bacta to her stomach when she doubles over with her hand against the wall. Grogu at her heels.

 

Warm, strong hands massage her back and stomach; he holds her hair up when she throws up, but his silence is deafening, and when he is absent, she speaks to herself to keep her sanity. Her conversations with Grogu are endless, but he always looks at her with awestruck, big, wide eyes shining up at her as he raises his arms, demanding to be picked up. Grogu clings to her during the day, and his father clings to her at night.

 

She keeps the ship clean, makes dinner, and watches his kid. She hasn’t seen sunlight in a few weeks. Her body feels weak and restless. She thinks of running one day, but he would find her and tether her to this ship. She feels drained as she sits on his chair, not being able to focus on the book. Instead, she tries not to be mournful to ignore the tightness in her chest and the regret at letting him make this decision.

 

She still feels the hunters hands on her the way they touched her with dirty hands and lurking eyes. She wraps her arms around her shoulders; no amount of showers washes the feeling off.

 

The feeling of having her legs pried open, the feeling of her breasts being pulled and tugged like she was a lifeless doll rather than a person.

 

She jumps when she hears the Mandalorian enter the ship, Grogu wailing at the top of his lungs, and the mandalorian grunting as he tracks her to the cockpit.

 

She kept her feet on the console, not in the mood to avoid him or be in his good graces; he could make his own fucking dinner tonight.

 

Grogu practically leapt out of his father's arms into hers. She sighed and put the book down, leaning back. Grogu sat in her lap, crying impossibly harder.

 

"What is it, womp rat?" She asked, caressing his cheek, trying to soothe him; he only cried in response, pushing his face into his chest, drool and tears soaking her night down.

 

She held onto him, rubbing his back. "What happened?" she said to the Mandalorian who leaned against the console, rubbing his neck after peeling his gloves off.

 

"I don’t know, he’s been off since the morning."

 

"Did you feed him before you took him?" She says as she checks his temperature with the back of her hand, she’s getting frustrated with his lack of information.

 

"Fed him a ration bar," he says, looking over her.

 

She doesn’t like it, being constantly observed by him, she gets up, rocking Grogu, who is still crying and clinging to her chest with hands prying at the neckline of her night gown.

 

"Come on, sweet pea, let’s get some food in you," she murmurs, kissing his head before climbing down the ladder.

 

Grogu is on her hip as she warms some soup she made when the mandalorian was off doing what the goddess knows.

 

She doesn't want the mandalorian to follow her down watch as she shushes Grogu on her hip, bouncing him as she plates up the soup and warms up some bread.

 

His gaze on her is unnerving; she never knows what he’s thinking, but it makes her flustered. Makes her movements clumsy, she nearly knocks off the soup.

 

She sits Grogu on the counter, covering his ears.

 

"Can you fuck off?" she whisper yells.

 

He stands up straight, his shoulders tensing.

 

"What the fuck did you just say?" he snarls, moving so fast she stumbles back. When he grabs her jaw, she covers Grogu’s eyes as well. He’s rearing for a fight; she can hear him grind his teeth and feel the white-hot rage that radiates off him. Ready for her to bear the brunt of his own frustration.

 

His fingers are callused against her jaw ; she either wants to make him bleed or bleed for him.

 

"I told you to fuck off," she growls, her own skin hot. Grogu’s wails are still being carried by the walls of the crest.

 

"Watch your mouth, girl." His voice is subdued, but she feels the darkness of it, the thunder suppressed in the tightness of his jaw.

 

But she doesn’t back away; she draws herself back and looks up, indifferent to the way he towers over her, trying to meet his damned eyes.

 

"Why are you going to lock me up, Kriff, and deliver me to Karga, huh?" she spits. He presses up behind her, a hand bruising her waist, her elbow twisted behind her back as he pushes his bulk into her back, and she groans from the pressure of her stomach digging into the counter.

"Once the baby stops crying, I’m going to fuck the insolence out of you; I'm going to clean that dirty mouth," he grunts into her ear as she struggled out of his grip, his voice raw a testament to his rage. She hopes he keeps to her promise.

 

She feels her stomach throb and her legs close on their own accord, but she was still seething bridled with her own fury, thrumming through her. At his indifference and ignorance about the fact that he thinks fucking her is going to keep her quiet.

 

She grunts, twisting her elbow, he frees her all of a sudden, and she staggers forward.

 

"Fucking piece of junk, metal-headed bastard," she calls out after him as he turns away, going back up to the cockpit. She growls in frustration, her cheeks aflame.

 

Muttering curses as she tries to get Grogu to have some soup

 

He just cries nonstop, his cheeks going red, his eyes squeezed shut, as fat tears roll down the swell of his cheeks.

 

"Please, Grogu," she begs him to eat her own frustration, causing her voice to crack. He swats the spoon from her hand, and she tries not to scream as she knocks off the bowl of soup.

 

She’s tried everything and checked him for anything that might be troubling him. His tummy is soft, and he’s been to the fresher. She tries bathing him, but he just cries even more. She sits on the fresher floor, crying with him in sheer frustration. She holds him to her chest, rocking back and forth, trying to stop him.

 

She hears footsteps, and the mandalorian opens the door a little, crouching down.

 

"Give him to me".

 

She refuses, shaking her head, saying, "He’s going to cry even more." I don’t understand why his vitals are perfect. I’ve tried feeding him, changing him, bathing him. I don’t get it, mando," she says, back against the wall, rocking the screaming child. Putting their argument to rest for now.

 

"Let me try," he says, scooping up his kid. She sighs out of relief. Her arms hurt along with her breasts; they feel sore and heavy, and she doesn’t understand why her cycle had just finished.

 

She ignores opting out of massaging her sore tits in front of Mando, who would probably enjoy it.

 

He rocks Grogu against him, bumping his helm against his nose, something that usually works, but Grogu is relentless in his father's arms, still crying even harder.

 

"C’mon kid, be good for your mama," she hears him murmur, and warmth floods her. It shocks and scares her to be this little green baby’s mama, but that’s what she is now. Her complicated relationship with the child’s egomaniacal father aside, she loves this kid.

 

The mandalorian sits down, returning Grogu to her. She sighs before nestling him against her chest and humming softly, rocking him and kissing his forehead. The mandalorian sits beside her on the threshold of the fresher, rubbing Grogu’s side in soothing motions.

 

Gradually, after ours of crying, Grogu’s cries become whimpers, and his tear-filled eyes close out of pure exhaustion. Lillia does not breathe, and neither does the mandalorian, who not risking waking up the kid, had removed all his armour except his helmet.

 

She’s still taken back by how broad he is, how wide his chest is, how his biceps bulge, and how the veins in his forearm strain. A deprived part of her wants him to stick to his promise.

 

They both don’t move and manage to catch a few hours of sleep before the crying starts. The mandalorian leaves only to pilot the crest for a while, and she tries everything at her disposal to soothe her crying child.

 

For two days straight, he cries, only pausing when he has cried himself to exhaustion or she’s trying to force some food down him. She misses the womp rat who smiles, laughs, and plays and doesn’t understand what causes such a drastic change in his mood.

 

But she’s so exhausted and hasn’t showered in two days, she places Grogu in the mandalorian’s lap.

 

Lillia rubs her arms and groans in relief when she stretches her back. The mandalorian is up in an instant, cradling him and showing him the flashing lights on his console.

 

"I’m going to go shower," she mutters, thinking she’s going to black out herself with carrying Grogu all day, the new pain in her breasts doing little to help. She needs hot water to soothe her aching muscles.

 

She gets a good five minutes before the mandalorian knocks at the door, and she hears Grogu’s screams over the shower.

 

She sighs the towel she’s taken in is way too small to cover all of her, so she just grunts, too fucking tired to be modest, and wraps the towel around her waist, covering at least half of herself, her hair falling over her breasts.

 

It’s nothing he hasn’t seen before. She tries to ignore the blush creeping up her cheeks and opens the door.

 

He stops pacing, his helm snapping to her breasts, and she crosses her arms over them. She feels his feral gaze on her. He steps forward, his hand reaching out on its own accord. He cups her breast and smooths his thumb over her sore nipple. She winces in pain. He retracts his hand. He’s been forgoing his armour except his helmet since the ship has been in hyperspace, walking around in one of his irresistible shirts and slacks. immune to the cold.

 

"Fuck," he breathes, bouncing Grogu, who’s reaching out to her. She takes him, placing him on her.

 

He’s a man starved; she can practically hear his blood rushing, the curse that leaves his mouth, and the way his helmet stays fixed to her chest.

 

She’s too lost in her embarrassment to notice Grogu rooting on her chest; she gasps when he latches to her breast. The mandalorian freezes, his hands clenched into tight fists.

 

The pure bliss that follows when Grogu suckles actually makes her moan in relief. Astonished almost wander-struck at how she’s being able to produce, she feels so warm. All of a sudden, a wave of happiness hits her, and suddenly she’s relaxed as she cradles Grogu, letting it happen. She’ll ask questions later, but in two days, the crest is silent, and Grogu is not crying; he’s eating and filling his belly.

 

She’ll figure out what’s happened later, but right now her baby is eating, and that’s enough.

 

She looks up, and he’s still frozen. Her eyes fall to his crotch, and he’s undeniably hard, but he stands still, uncaring of the way his pants have tightened.

 

"How" he demands his voice be so low even through the modulator? Grogu noisily suckles his paw, coming to lay on her breast.

 

"I don’t know," she says, still shocked and trying to process what’s happening.

 

"He can do things, Kriff." I don’t know; he can heal; he healed me once," the Mandalorian says.

 

She nods; she’s just as mesmerised. She shivers, suddenly feeling the chill of the ship since the mandalorian refuses to put on the heat.

 

She sighs, putting her finger in Grogu’s mouth to break the seal of suction; he instantly whimpers as he unlatches. Her nipple is red from where his suckling has irritated her skin, and she watches as milk beads on her tip.

 

She pushes him into the mandalorian, who stands frozen. "Kids not done," he grunts as Grogu fusses and whimpers.

 

"I know I’m cold; I'm going to go and get a sweater," she mutters, irritated at the fact that the cheap bastard doesn’t heat the ship.

 

She hears Grogu rearing up to cry, and she sighs, shivering as she puts on a low-fitting nightgown and a sweater on top. To fend off the chill, she twists her wet hair up and looks at her face in a little hand-held mirror.

 

When did she get so old? She is so tired that her face is gaunt, there are bags under her eyes, and her nose is bright red. She drags her hand down her cheek, and she misses the pretty dresses on the seat beside her papa. Her mother's hands were on her shoulders, telling her to stay still. As she braided her hair.

 

Circean's voice carried over the river as he taught her how to sail. Caspian's eyes were on her when he begged her to do it. He begged her to shoot him.

 

But she was a coward , a girl who clung to the last aching hours of her girlhood, her childhood, before her hands were forced to bear the weight of a blaster. As a black sail caught the sun and ships and blasters seized her country, a man dressed in black pushed up her mother's skirts.

 

She gagged before throwing the mirror away, pushing it all down to her belly. Her hands iced as she wiped at her cheeks with the back of her hands and pulled herself together. Grogu is wailing now, and his father mutters, pacing, telling him to wait, calling her name, losing his patience at the same time.

 

She takes him from his father's arms, and he is more than willing. Grogu whimpers, and she smooths the Womp Rat's cheek. "I know," she says.

 

"It’s warmer in the cockpit," the mandalorian states, and she forces herself to keep her eyes on his helm rather than follow that treacherous trail of hair sneaking underneath his slacks. When he stretches his arms and his shirt rises.

 

"It’s fine. I’ll take him to the bunk and feed him there."

 

"No!" He says too quickly, and she raises her brow.

 

"It’s warmer," he insists.

 

"Ask me, and I’ll come Mandalorian."

 

"Just ask me."

 

She says pushing up her sweater and pulling her nightgown under the breast, Grogu was yet empty. She put her nipple into his open mouth and took a deep breath as he began to suckle eagerly. Her milk let down, and Grogu closed his eyes. His little claw coming to rest on her breast.

 

"Come to the cockpit," he says, wrapping his hand around her waist and pulling her into his arms.

 

"That’s not asking," she sighs.

 

"Why can’t you just ask me?" Her voice is soft, with a touch of sadness, or maybe it’s exasperation.

 

The silent bounty hunter before her is an infuriating man, but she’s too tired to feel another day of anger, so she clings to the soft parts of her womanhood and forgives him for today. For his silence, for the way even his touch is demanding, and for the fact that he can’t ask her what he needs because he doesn’t want her.

 

She presses her face into his chest for a moment, warming up her nose by inhaling his scent of smoke and a little alcohol, and she sates herself for the night.

 

"Don’t drink too much tonight; you don’t eat when you drink too much," she says. The mandalorian does not utter a word. His helm is on her breast. She can’t even read his face. She can’t even know what his eyes may say when his tongue fails him.

 

He only reaches out and caresses his son's cheek and then the swell of her breast before retracting his hand. She turns her back, going to his bunker.

 

He doesn’t follow her; she hears his foot steps become faint, and it sets a precedent for how painful this will be.

 

She’s comfortable but still cold, and there is a sense of peace in the low thrumming of the ship. In the vicious hunter's calming bunk in the soft browns of his duvet and odd trinkets and books in a language she is yet to learn. His scent is everywhere, and goddess, she would be lying if it was not soothing if, for the first time in years, she did not feel safe.

 

He would not love her or give her the softness she yearns for, but he’d find her. He’d always find her.

 

The mandalorian had sworn a

long oath.

 

….

 

There is seldom a time when he wages war with himself.

 

If he had just asked her if she had taken her hand and offered a wanting word, she’d be up here snarking at him and huffing when his opinion did not match hers.

 

But instead, they were distanced by the distance he created.

 

He slammed his hands on the console, frustrated at how he could not just say the fucking words.

 

He reads as the stars pass by, but the words have long lost their meaning as she takes over his thoughts. Standing there, flushed from the shower, her eyes exhausted. In a way only a mother’s are.

 

He doesn’t expect her to come out of the shower with that tiny towel around her ass. And those kriffing tits are making his cock weep. She made him weak, made him painfully hard as it was, but before him, with those perfect breasts, soft and creamy, suddenly heavier blue veins adorning her skin, and those maker-blessing rosy tips erect from the chill, they were going to be his undoing.

 

He fought the urge to palm his cock at the end of his depravity. He shifted in his seat, cursing under his breath at the discomfort.

 

The more he thought about her, the more he marvelled at the miracle that she was instantly taking Grogu into her arms, warmth in her tired eyes, as if it were second nature to take him on her hip.

 

He was taken back when Grogu took to her breast, his hands clenching, waiting for her reaction. And fuck when she cradled him and smiled, despite the shock in her eyes rocking him, her features softened as Grogu quieted against her breast and suckled noisily. He knew she was his; he was going to put his ad in her belly and keep her like this as long as he could, as long as she would let him.

 

Her eyes dropped to his crotch, and he couldn’t give a fuck if his cock pressed demandingly against his slacks. All his blood had rushed south; he craved this, craved the way his woman fed his child, sating the primordial part of him. The mandalorian in him, the hardened warrior wanting to come home to meet his child and his woman on the threshold of their home

 

Din has travelled the galaxy, has seen the great sand desert that stretches over Tatooine, the blizzards of Hoth, and the snow-capped mountains of Alderaan, and maker, there is not a more blessed sigh than this, his son at her breast, the soft expression in her loving eyes, and maker, he’d burn the galaxy for her to keep witnessing this to know her like this. He almost growls like an animal when she unlatches and pushes Grogu into his arms.

 

He grinds at his teeth at the sheer restraint he’s exhibiting when he sees a droplet of milk drip from her rosy nipple. Her skin agitated from where his kid has been drinking.

 

When she returns, she takes Grogu with such ease as if it were second nature, pushing up the sweater with pain flashing across her face, and then with relief when Grogu latches, as she cradles him. Din Djarin has not allowed himself a life like this, a life where he allows himself something other than the quiet of space.

 

He should have asked her and let the words roll off his tongue. But words have always been difficult for him; there’s no fluidity in the basics.

 

He clings to his mother tongue; it grounds him. Mando'a has a way of saying little but enough so that the words make sense. They give him reason.

 

He fights taking her up by force when she leaves; instead, he sits in the cockpit, battling with himself if only he said the right words and did as she asked.

 

Hours pass by, and he’s exhausted. His books are exhausted, the stars are exhausted, his back aches, and sleep evades him. Without her wrapped in his arms, he makes his way to his bunk. And she’s there in the low lamplight, looking like the goddess she prays to.

 

Her soft chestnut hair cascading down her shoulders, wispy tendrils brushing her cheekbones. Her lips parted, her head dropped, and her eyes closed as dark lashes shadowed her cheek. His son was still at her breast, her arms cradling him.

 

He swallows before he makes his way to her. Grogu is asleep, milk dribbling from the corner of his mouth. He puts his finger in the corner as she did, and Grogu releases her nipple. His mouth still making that sucking motion as if he is still latched, he gently picks up his son and takes him to his cradle, not before tracing his nose and wiping the milk from his chin. Grogu nestled into his chest, a little sound of contentment leaving him.

 

"Greedy little menace," Din murmurs as he lays him down in the cradle, tapping his chest when he fusses.

 

He can’t help but watch over the kid; he can’t believe that this child belongs to him; she calls him his daddy, and he doesn’t recognise how often his chest swells and his hands shake, but he feels good; he feels needed; he feels like a man.

 

He takes off his helmet and kisses Grogu’s forehead. He can smell the sweet scent of her milk and baby shampoo. She washes his three stands of hair with.

 

And then he returns to her sweater, which has half fallen over her breast in Grogu’s absence. If he were a good man, he’d cover her breast, but he’s far from it, so he revels in the way her breasts peeks out, all soft and pliant. Her tips still reddened by his son, and he wonders what she would taste like. He groans when his cock hardens impossibly more; it’s almost shameful what this does to him. What she does to him makes him weak like this, aching all the time. She stirs, and he can tell she’s awake. He quickly covers her eyes, and she yawns.

 

"Grogu?" She murmurs groggily, half asleep. "Alseep," he replies.

 

"Mhm," she says, dragging his hand from her eyes to her cheek. Her eyes are closed, fluttering behind her eyelids. She leans into his warm hand and murmurs something incoherent.

 

"Come to bed, Mando, I’m cold," she says. He switches off the light and takes off his shirt. He always runs too hot. Her nose is cold against his cheek, and she warms her hands by placing them in his.

 

He wraps his arms around her, caging her into his chest. "Do you think he’ll stop any time soon?" she asks after she winces, creating distance when her breasts press up against his chest. He drapes his arm over his waist. Pushing up her sweater.

 

"I don’t think he will," Din says, lifting his head to blow cold air on her sore nipples. She sighs in relief. A part of him hopes Grogu never stops.

 

"Thank you," she says, sighing as she cups her breasts again.

 

"They did feel heavy and sore.I guessed it was just hormones adjusting since I removed my implant.”

 

She says, Din freezes, his arm tightening around her waist.

 

"What?" he growls.

 

"I cut it out of my hip; it was just under the skin," she explained.

 

"I’ve had it since I was thirteen; when they first came, they injected us with implants so we wouldn’t bear any bastard imperial children," she says, her words bearing so much weight, but she recalls the memory like it’s nothing. "They put me in before they knew who I was."

 

"Why did you cut it out?" His words are thick. Din surprises himself with how raspy he sounds and how heavy his voice is as he lets the fact that he could get her heavy with his ad seep in.

 

"Freedom, I guess you said you’d always find me, but it didn’t seem fitting to have something in my body that was put in there without my consent. Besides the fear that leaves you when you exchange prisons, you won’t let me off the ship; there’s no reason to have an implant," she says, but her voice is not bitter.

 

"You’ve stolen me, Mandalorian," she says.

Pushing down her sweater, but he stops her; her eyes are still shut.

 

"I want to look at you," he says. Her lips quirk upwards.

 

She exhales, "I don’t understand what I am to you, Mandalorian."

 

"You’re mine," he says, his hands snaking underneath her nightgown to caress her soft stomach.

 

"That isn’t enough, hunter; a day will come when I will be found and you will have no one to cling to," she says, her face turning to him, eyes still closed. Her fingers tracing his nose, his jaw, and the scruff on his chin.

 

"You are mine, Lillia; you are mine to your maker damned bones, and there will not come a day where I cannot keep you safe."

 

"Locking me up is not keeping me safe, Mandalorian," she says, gently cupping his cheek.

 

"Let me put a tracker in you, and I’ll let you go leave the ship without me."

 

She sighs exasperatedly at him, and he can tell she’s too tired to argue with him on this, and she’ll regret her momentary obedience when she’s not basking in his warmth or leaning into his light touches. When she’s not dazed by him and his son.

 

"Swear to me, Mandalorian, you will take me outside," she says.

 

"I Din Djarin will take you outside on the condition that you obey me."

 

She gasps, turning her body to his, and her voice is so quiet, so fucking quiet.

 

"Din?" she asks, and he wishes he could see the expression in her eyes.

 

"Yes"

 

"Din djarin," she repeats his name, and Din groans. She says his name with so much softness that he wants to hear her say it with his tongue between her legs when he rocks inside of her when he becomes her.

 

"You can only swear an oath with your name, sweetling," he says.

 

"Din," she repeats softly, "I’ll keep it safe."

 

To give her his name is to give her his helm, the most sacred part of himself.

 

He didn’t realise he was so starved of hearing his name; he didn’t know how he spent all these years without his name on her lips.

 

She breathed life into him; he felt as if he had purpose, as if the pain in his aching joints had disappeared, as if there was new strength in his legs and power in the force of his hand.

 

She gave him new life. A woman he was told to cast away broke through the covenant of his armour and gave him life.

 

…

 

Every step forward with the mandalor – with Din was accompanied by two steps back.

 

He had injected a tracker into her arm, and when she had awoken, she had felt the dread rise up her throat—that familiar feeling of helplessness of being taken, being drugged. Her arms were sore, and she was nauseous.

 

A scream nearly clawed its way up before she realised where she was in Din’s bunk, the scent of his soap still lingering in the sheets.

 

Once the feeling of dread had disappeared and her heart rate steadied, disappointment flooded her. Every time she warmed to him and forgave his trespasses, he made it harder for her to surrender herself to him.

 

She wanted nothing more than to give into her softness and let him take care of her and stop looking over her shoulder. But he treated her like every other man—power over her skin, power over her body.

 

She didn’t want to cry; she was almost sick of it, but the tears had made themselves known; perhaps it was heartbreak or exhaustion. Her body was sore, and maybe the silence that she so feared was what would heal her.

 

She didn’t have it in her to fight him or argue with him to explain that he should have asked her properly, not when she was half asleep.

 

She was making breakfast, and he came behind her, his armoured body pressing into hers with warm hands on her hips.

 

She swallowed the venom frothing on her tongue and moved out of his grasp. "sweetling? He questioned her, and she kept quiet, pretending like he wasn’t there and like she was alone on the crest.

 

"Girl," his tone was clipped this time as he grabbed her arm, and she flinched. She stood there silently, eyes down, her head hanging, waiting for him to release her.

 

"What’s wrong?" He questioned, his voice traced with annoyance. She didn’t say a word, even when he let her go. He muttered something under his breath before leaving to go wake Grogu up.

 

She bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself from attacking him; he didn’t take her seriously and didn’t consider her someone worth making her own decisions for.

 

He sat Grogu down on the tiny counter and leaned against it as she turned Grogu towards her and wrapped the makeshift bib around him.

 

She quickly discovered Grogu was in no mood for scrambled eggs; instead, he tugged at her neckline.

 

The mandalorian was ever-observant; she could practically feel his smug smile and intrusive gaze. As her cheeks flared up, she set the plate down, freeing her neckline from Grogu’s grip.

 

"You have not eaten solid food in two days; you need to eat Grogu," she said sternly, hoping her tone of voice would get him to open his goddess-damned mouth. But he sealed his lips, swatting at the fork when she tried to bring it closer to his mouth. And when his eyes watered and he opened his mouth to cry, she set the plate down again in frustration.

 

"Okay, fine, get your dad to feed you," she muttered, turning him to face the Mandalorian, who was quietly watching the scene before him.

 

She started making her own breakfast with an eye on Womp Rat and his dad. "You’re going to eat, kid," he said matter-of-factly, picking up the plate. Grogu whined in protest but was soon eating despite sniffling throughout breakfast.

 

She ate her own bitterly, a little annoyed at how the kid listened to him with such ease. Maybe she did coddle him, maybe she couldn’t help it. Perhaps the kid felt safe enough with her to let his displeasure be known.

 

It had been a long day with Grogu trying to burrow himself into her skin and avoiding the Mandalorian. She finally breathed a sigh of relief when Grogu fell asleep. Taking mercy on her chest, having emptied her breasts to his fill.

 

She returned to that heavy slab he had cuffed to her and laid down, wincing at the discomfort of the hard surface against her aching, tired muscles.

She heard his heavy footsteps and closed her eyes. She heard him walk into his bunk and then follow her suit.

 

"Sweetling?" She gave him no response.

"I can see your shoulders, girl; you’re still awake".

 

Again, she did not respond.

 

"Fine, be difficult," he growled. He grabbed her waist and hauled her over his shoulder as if she were an inanimate object.

 

She did not fight him; what use was it when he would just use brute force? He dropped her on the bunk, tying the blindfold around her eyes and slipping a strong arm around her waist. She waited till he was asleep and returned to that slab; unfortunately, the hunter was a light sleeper, so he would fetch her, and she would not relent until he imprisoned her with his hips. His breath on her skin sent shivers down her spine.

 

He had kicked her knees apart and settled between them, his hips pressing down her pelvis and his hands pinning her wrists up. "You move again, and I’ll fuckin cuff you to the bed," he snarled above her.

 

His grip tightened when she did not answer, "You understand!"

 

She nodded.

 

"Use your words, girl."

 

"Yes," she replied, her voice cracking from being so rarely used throughout the day.

 

"Good girl," he muttered into the corner of her mouth before settling with his head on her sternum and his hands wound right around her.

 

She did not move, but sleep evaded her, and when it finally came, he left before she awoke. His lingering scent in the sheets and the warm weight of him still pulling her to sleep

 

The mornings were always the same: a hand on her pendants, her knees drawn to her chin. wondering how she’d feel the light of day on her face again. When she would stop shivering in the morning frost of space.

 

There was never enough to clean on the ship, and she had burned through his books. Learned of his culture, but here she was still at a distance.

 

It wasn’t love; it was need; it was safety," she told herself every morning. Then why did she expect more from him when this was all he could give?

 

He came to her after a few round trips of hunting and delivering bounties. The silence between them remained stagnant, and he cuffed her to the bed at night.

 

Grogu fed from her, and the Mandalorian had laid him in his cradle. She hasn’t called him by his name since then. Din seemed like he would breach the distance, but the Mandalorian made it easier to keep herself away.

 

He'd rub her back at night to soothe the ache from the weight of her breasts and the way Grogu kept them full, always leaking into the sheets.

 

She was sitting on the floor reading on her holopad, researching some irrelevant topic. When he grabbed her arm and hauled her up.

 

"What are you doing?" she said, rubbing her arm.

 

"We’re going to Tatooine; you need to be dressed properly." Her brows nearly shot into her hair as excitement bubbled up. She tried to keep her face straight. She was dying to feel the warmth of the sun, and here he was with two.

 

"What’s the occasion?" She asked quietly.

 

"Difficult bounty," he grunted, and she noticed the clothes in his arms.

 

"Strip," he ordered, tugging at her cardigan.

 

"I can dress myself," she ground out, swatting his pulling hands.

 

"Have you ever been on Tatoonie before?" He asked while grabbing her wrist.

 

She didn’t answer him.

 

 "Then no, you can’t fuckin dress yourself."

 

"I can manage to undress myself, Mandalorian."

 

She hit his hands away and shrugged her cardigan off. His helmet stayed on her face until she pulled the nightgown over her head. Standing there in black pants and a milk-stained lace bra.

 

His helmet dropped dramatically to her breasts, and she rolled her eyes. He wrapped her in layers of clothing, fashioning fabric around her face. To cover her mouth and nose.

 

He strapped her in, the kid in his designated seat babbling eagerly and tugging at her hair to catch her attention.

 

Mando turned around, holding on to Grogu’s hand sternly "Grogu, don’t pull her hair" he scolded, untangling her hair from his claws "You do it again, and I’m going to throw away your ball". He warned

 

Grogu looked up at him solemnly, his lip quivering at being scolded, but he was a good boy; he didn’t cry, and her eyes softened, but a tilt of the mandalorian’s helm halted her reaching hands; the instruction was clear.

 

‘Do not interfere."

 

So she folded her hands in her lap and closed her eyes as the mandalorian piloted the crest. Once Grogu had become bored of his strop, he began babbling, and she smiled, conversing with him in sophisticated basic while he spluttered out gibberish.

 

She had been to Tatooine once in her youth with her father; he had piloted the ship himself and taken her in the middle of the great Dune desert.

 

He had told her to meet an old friend, whom she learned was a Tusken chief. She had remembered being afraid of the masked man who had towered over her; even her father had spoken with his hands.

 

And entrusted a wooden bantha in her hands, had set her in a tent with his children. She had met his wife when she braided her hair with gentle hands and playful scolding.

 

She had spent a few weeks with the Tuskens alongside her father, who was a dear friend to them. She played with their younglings, her skin browned by the twin suns. When she had returned to Caster, her mother had pulled at her cheeks and called her sunshine.

 

Perhaps that is why she is so eager to return to the dune planet for the twin suns.

to shroud her in nostalgia for memories of her father and the time she spent running wild under her papa's watchful gaze.

 

His hand is on the small of her back; he had undressed her, telling her his plan had changed and the dunes could wait. She slips on two sundresses before he nods in approval at the third outfit, a long-sleeve top and loose-fitting linen trousers.

 

 

She’s carrying Grogu on her hip, forgoing the sling, and he is as eager as her to be out of the ship. Tatoonie is the same as she remembered: dry, arid, and scorching. She looks up at the twin suns and nearly blinds herself, but it is worth it.

 

She stops when Grogu does the same, the Mandalorian just grunts in disapproval. A woman emerges from the hangar. She’s a tiny thing with wild brown hair. Her cheeks are red, and her thin lips are already set in a frown.

 

"600 credits, mando, and I ain’t budgin," she says, her beady eyes scanning her up and down. Softening when they reach Grogu after scanning her precariously.

 

"500" he negotiates the woman furrows her brow before they land on her again. Goddess Lillia is trying; she tries to stand confidently tall, but her shoulders are hunched, making herself small, as she has been doing all these years.

 

"Hmm," the woman considers, "is the kid staying with me?" she asks, her eyes smiling despite her downturned lips.

 

"They’re both saying it with you," he says, the hand on her back urging her forward.

 

She raises her brow. "Is she another bounty?" She asks, and Lillia’s heart begins to race.

 

The mandalorian doesn’t answer, but his silence is enough. The woman outstretches her hand and says, "Names Peli, do you know anything about ships?"

 

Lillia takes her hand and shakes it "a little," she says, her voice cracking from not having been used in a while. The mandalorian’s helm drops on her in what she can only assume is surprise.

 

He does not say a parting word, and she doesn’t want him to either. He pats Grogu’s head, telling him to be good. She watches the warrior leave while Peli takes the kid from her. She lets her, assuming that if the Mandalorian has trusted her with them, then there is no harm.

 

Peli coos at Grogu, who responds in vivacious babbles, happy to be in her arms. Lillia swallows, feeling awkward and out of place. She picks at her nail out of anxiousness. Peli turns to her, raising a brow.

"You mind helping me with a little work around the hangar?"

Lillia nods eagerly, jumping at the opportunity to make herself useful. Peli grins, gesturing at her to follow her. Lillia does quietly, hoping it's light work. She knew little about ships and their mechanics but enough to be able to get her hands dirty.

 

Peli led her to a ship with a damaged hull; she nearly sighed with relief. Welding was light work, but there was a lot to be done, and all she needed to do was kill time until the mandalorian came back.

 

Peli had an old radio blaring generic music playing faintly in the background as she sat and doted on Grogu, talking to him and feeding him an assortment of treats. While Lillia accessed the extent of the damage, she did not have it in her to stop her before he threw up; she did not have any right to stop him. She was just a glorified babysitter. She shrugged away the bitterness that was settling in her chest and ignored the fact that she had not nursed Grogu for a while and how her breasts were going to start bothering her inevitably.

 

Peli gave her a jumpsuit and the correct welding gear, Lillia got to work. She enjoyed it even when the soreness was creeping up her muscles. She did not notice the hours that passed as she worked on the ship. Until Peli stopped her with a hand on her shoulder for supper.

 

‘Ships are looking good; you don’t look like the type of girl to know your way around them.".

Lillia lifted the protective mask to look up at her, not taking offence; she knew what Peli meant even if she had worded it in the worst conceivable way.

She smiled up at Peli and her approving look at the ship.

 

"My brothers taught me what I know." Lillia offered to break the silence.

"There must have been good teachers; the ships look good".

Lillia looked at the ship and how much better the hull looked, and she smiled longingly.

"Yes, they were," she said with a slight tremor in her voice. Peli patted her shoulder once more before she left, and Lillia took off her gloves and mask, sitting back and admiring her work for a moment.

Feeling accomplished, even a little refreshed, feeling like herself—anything was better than staring at the walls of the crest on end. She was even grateful for Peli’s company; she loved the kid, but goddesses, she needed some adult company other than the insufferable Mandalorian, who seldom spoke, and when he did, it was an order.

 

A steaming bowl of Bantha stew was calling her name when she sat down on the table, her stomach growling. Grogu was sitting on the table, digging his way through some chunks of cooked bantha. She had no idea how the greedy womp rat had any space, but here he was eagerly gnawing at the meat. They ate in silence until Lillia sat back, almost groaning at how full her stomach was.

Peli smirked,

"Thank you, Peli, that was amazing," she said.

Peli grinned

"You've got better manners than that cheap mandalorian," she remarked.

Lillia raised her brow. "Have you known the mandalorian long?" she asked.

"Long enough to know he’ll never pay a credit more for his pile of junk," she replied.

Lillia nodded, cleaning Grogu's mouth and picking him up when he reached his arms out for her. She settled him in her lap. He fussed a little for some milk, but she knew he was too sleepy to get his way. She was too shy to feed him in front of Peli, so she rocked him in her lap, whimpering as he dosed off.

 

"Were you another bounty?" Peli asked Lillia if she considered lying, but the Mandalorian trusted her with Grogu, so she told the truth.

"yes"

"Where did he pick you up from?"

"A backwater farming planet in the middle of nowhere," she replied.

Peli chuckled "Well, he is the fiercest warrior in the guild".

"But he’s got a soft spot for the kid, and since you haven't cashed in, it seems like he's got a soft spot for girls as well."

Lillia reddened a little, embarrassed. "You are mistaken; he just needed a live-in babysitter," she said, brushing off her comment.

"You can call it what you want, but bounties usually get exchanged, and he seemed to let you go."

"Did he use his line?" Peli grinned.

Lillia rolled her eyes.

"I can bring you in warm or I can bring you in cold," Lillia mocked him, deepening her voice and scowling, which she's sure he does most of the time under his helmet.

 

Peli chuckled again, and Lillia giggled. For the first time since she boarded the Mandalorians' ship, she felt like she could relax; her stomach was full; she had a hard day's work under her belt. For the first time, she didn’t feel like she was wasting away.

 

…

 

"You’re cheatin"

"Peli, I swear to the goddess I'm not cheating".

"I don’t pray to no godess."

"Fine, Peli, I swear to the Maker I’m not cheating."

"This can’t be the first time you’re playing,"  Peli huffed in disbelief.

"Peli, you just need to accept that a beginner outdid you," Lillia said, incredibly smug.

Peli glared at the cards.

"We’ve played four games; be a dignified loser," the girl defended herself, but he could hear the arrogance in her voice.

"That's it, I'm charging Mando for babysitting you and the womp rat," Peli threatened.

"What are you charging me with?" He asked, and both women jumped startled, but upon his arrival, Lillias’s smile faded, a frown taking its place. Whilst Peli muttered obscenities.

"For babysitting," she grumbled.

"I need to be making my credit back some way; your girl’s either maker blessed or she's cheating," Peli accused yet again.

 

"Prove it," Lillia muttered.

 

Before glancing between them, she had a little smirk on her face. Peli got up, smashing the credits onto the table and muttering belligerently under her breath. Before leaving.

 

He watched her sit back, unfazed by his presence, collecting the cards and stacking them, essentially fiddling with them to avoid conversation.

 

Maker had had enough; he took Peli’s seat, pulling it right next to her and swivelling her chair to face him even when she dragged her feet like a brat.

 

He trapped her knees between his leaning over her and holding the edges of her chair.

"Tell me what I did wrong".

 

She looked up at him. Her arms hugged herself, her eyes darkened, and her lips were pulled into a thin line.

 

"Tell me," he" insisted.

 

"Even if I tell you, you will not change; it will not make an ounce of difference."

 

She nearly spat it out.

 

"Try me." His voice was edging towards annoyance at her stubbornness.

 

She stared him down, but he was unwavering in his effort.

 

He needed to know what caused this sudden change and this attempt at being unfeeling. Even as she answered back, her voice quivered, and she fidgeted with her sleeve, unable to meet his visor.

 

"Tell me,"  he ordered, pulling her hands away from her sleeve.

 

"You put a tracker in me while I was sleeping". She ground out her eyes, filling with angry tears, but she was stubborn; she would not let one fall, not give him the gratification.

 

Din relaxed his shoulders a little less tense; that was it; that’s what had made her so angry. He let out an irritated sigh.

 

"I did it for your safety."

 

"You did not ask me," she ground out, her eyes glassy. He was sure a tear would glide down her cheek. But instead, she pinched the bridge of her nose to calm herself down.

 

Din didn’t understand why it was such an issue. Yes, her arm was sore for a day, but that was it; the job was done. It was almost childish of her to act this insolent.

 

"You are on my ship, girl; I make the decisions when it comes to girls who lie and wander off to get drunk out of their minds and kidnapped," he scowled.

 

This time a tear did fall, gliding effortlessly down her grease-stained cheek. But her eyes were aflame with accusation and rage.

 

"It comes so easy to you to be so unfeeling," she said, her tone clipped.

 

"For you to wear that helmet like a coward and blame your creed for your injustices,"

 

"Lillia," he warned.

 

"What are you going to do, Din? Throw me over your shoulder, cuff me to your bed, and pin me with your hips until I relent?" Her voice was rising, and Din's patience was growing thin.

 

"Such great injustices," he murmured dismissively. She was speaking to him as if he were not merciful, as if he did not keep her belly full and give her his protection.

 

Her brows furrowed, and a scowl etched itself into her face. Her hand shot out to slap him or punch him, whatever her sudden lust for violence warranted. But he grabbed her wrist; he didn’t have enough bacta for a broken hand.

 

"For someone who looks like a little fawn, you’re quick to resort to violence," he says, smirking, impressed by the fact she can make a fist without sacrificing her thumb.

 

She huffs in annoyance, wringing her hands free. Din lets her go, and she falls back into her chair.

 

"Tell me, sweetling, what do you want me to do?" he says, matter-of-factly wanting to end this so she can let him between her legs again.

 

Her brows furrow. "Some autonomy," she mutters, getting up. He grabs her waist, pulling her back into his lap, her back to his armoured chest. She's so soft in his arms, he almost worries she’ll bruise against his armour.

 

She's tense in his arms, her back straight hands pushing at his forearms. "Don’t do this mandalorian," she says.

 

"Do what?" he says, his hands resting against her stomach. He just wants her to soften in his arms. Put this argument to rest. He’s exhausted. He’s been tracking his bounty under the twin suns and has not come any closer to bringing him in.

 

"Pretend as if this is real."

She turns in his lap; her shoulders still do not relax; his blood burns; and a part of him rages at how she still believes that there is a way out of this. Away from his gaze and touch.

 

She maddens him, makes him lust for every part of her, the gleam in her eyes when she wears that white silk makes him crawl into his bed and then forbid him to touch her.

 

"I don’t lie, girl; when I called you mine by the creed, I meant it."

 

She traces the patch of bare skin on his neck, and he bites back a groan. It is exhilarating to be touched by her. To have a blaster aimed at him is less daunting than what he becomes when she touches him, she makes him feel alive. He will never become familiar with it, with being touched by her. She lays a kiss on his throat, and fuck, her lips are so soft, his skin burns, and his hands tighten on her hips.

 

"People don’t belong to people" she says "Peli said you must be sweet for me if you didn’t cash me in. I didn’t have the heart to tell her that you did. You cashed me in for yourself".

 

He doesn’t know what to say; she tells the truth, and he is no liar, so he stays silent and prays to the Maker. She will kiss him again in anger.

 

But she doesn’t only sit back and stare at his visor, staring right at him with big doe eyes, condemning him to silence and guilt.

 

But the stubborn man inside of him does not feel guilt only claim.

 

"I told you I would keep you safe. This is how I keep you safe. I give you my armour, my blaster, and my name," he tells her.

 

"And yet you still could not give me your trust," she cuts him off, answering into his skin, not kissing him, just letting her voice invigorate him.

 

He grabs her jaw, stopping her from driving him insane. "I trust you, Lillia; I do not trust those after you".

 

"You know what you have to swear to me," she tells him.

 

She’s staring into his soul again, demanding fealty. He sees a glimmer of hope; it is unfortunate, that he will be quick to extinguish it.

 

"I swear by my creed that I will ask you next time unless I believe it is crucial to your safety, then I will overrule."

 

Her lips contort into a scowl, and she begins pushing him away, her softness transgressing into anger.

 

His hands move to her shoulders. "That is not giving me a choice, Mandalorian," she growls.

 

He is tired of this pushing and pulling. "It is all that I’m giving girl; take it or leave it," he snaps back. His voice rising.

 

Her retort fails on her lips when Grogu comes floating towards them. He’s fussing, looking at his father, outstretching his hands, wanting attention.

 

She pulls, and he doesn’t let her go. One hand slides around her waist, keeping her close to him, and the other picks up Grogu, who sits between them. A part of him, an ancient part of his hindbrain, is sated with the knowledge that his clan is complete and that his arms are big enough to cage them in.

 

Grogu cooed at both of them, initiating conversation. Lillia wipes at the drool on the side of his mouth with her sleeve and boops his little nose. Her smile is so instant that he almost believes she's forgotten her anger, but when her gaze returns to him, aware she’s being watched, it sharpens, and he scowls.

 

He leans back as Grogu eagerly tugs at Lillia's shirt, and he smirks underneath his helmet. Lillia holds on to his little claws. "Not next to Daddy, he’s being a prick," she says sweetly. Pulling his son into her arms.

 

"Mama doesn’t have a choice, kid," he says when Grogu looks back with furrowed brows. He holds Grogu to his chest and quickly throws Lillia over his shoulder before she gets a chance to put her feet on the ground.

 

The girl violently mutters herself but knows better than to struggle, yet she voices her displeasure in colourful curses in both basic and a foreign language. He takes them to the bunk Peli offered them. Din is pleased to see a single bed that is tight but still big enough to fit them all.

 

Din sets Grogu and the girl down on the bed, Grogu toddles to her, desperate to get into her arms. She ignores him as he removes his chest plate and a vambrace, along with his shoes. He won’t risk removing his helmet, especially with how little security surrounds the place.

 

Once he is done, he settles in, laying on top of the covers. He runs too hot to settle in like she does. Lillia places Grogu on his chest and turns off the light. He smirks at her attempt at modesty, taking his fill of her when the visor allows him to see in the dark.

 

When she turns the low light on, she’s clothed in one of his shirts; it reaches just above her knees. Her hair free-falls to her waist, and Maker he feels himself grow as she saunters around doing Maker knows what.

 

He curses and adjusts himself in his pants, and when she finally gets in next to him, she takes Grogu and turns away, lying to her side with her back to him, Grogu gurgling at her, and soon the kids hungry sounds of suckling fill in the silence. She winces here and there.

 

He sits up, irritated at being deprived of what he looks forward to. He’s a sick, deprived man, but watching her feed his son makes him feral. It sings to the primordial part of him, turning him more beast than man. It makes him want to force her on her belly and burrow inside of her, not leaving until he’s adamant his work is done.

 

Seeing her nurture his son with such radiance stirs the warrior; he thinks of nothing but breeding her. Seeing her ripe with him might make her less stubborn.

 

He waits till Grogu empties her breast and she’s forced to move to her other side; he can tell she’s too sleepy to reprimand him. But even in her sleep, she frowns at his heavy stare.

 

Finally, he lets himself relax while watching her. The less hurried, sleepy sound of Grogu feeding lulls him to sleep, but the mandalorian is nothing but adamant.

 

As he forces his eyes open to take his fill of her with her cheek pressed against the pillow and lips parted, Grogu’s eyes are closed as he suckles at her breast, his claw resting on her chin. A little milk dribbles from his chin, and Din cleans it up.

 

With his finger, he scolds himself for thinking about tasting, yet he succumbs to his nature and lifts his helmet to lick at his finger. By the maker, the taste makes him feral and ignites such a hunger that it maddens him.

 

She tastes like sweet Meiloorun juice, just richer and creamier. His cock hardens at the thought of drinking from her, sleep evades him as he watches Grogu take his fill. No wonder Grogu kicks up such a fuss when she feeds him something other than her milk.

 

Din’s depravity intercepts his dreams when he finally falls asleep, his face to her arm around her waist. As visions of her writhing underneath him and beckoning him inside of her become his undoing.

Previous - Chapter 6

[starrysky28]

The Times We Were Together: Chapter 1

Series Title: "The Times We Were Together"

Series Summary: After the Raccoon City incident, Claire, Sherry and Leon start living together, where they share many memories and moments with each other.

Chapter Title: "Aftermath"

Rating: T

Words: 2,339

Warnings: Blood, Graphic Descriptions

*A/N: Was a little hesitant to post this over here since I don't have a lot of RE content on my blog currently since I'm a new fan, but here ya go. First fic in 6+ months, woo!*

The sound of jingling keys could be heard from inside the narrow hallway of the apartment complex. After a few seconds, a door labeled "A13" opens up with a click.

"Well, this is the place...", A man by the name of Leon Kennedy sighed exhaustively.

Behind him were two other people, a brunette with tattered clothes and dried blood on her skin, and a smaller, much younger girl, probably no older than ten. She too had a fair share of grime covering her as well. 

"Sorry, I know it's a little small, but by all means, make yourselves at home", Leon, who actually had a rather large wound on his right shoulder, continued on.

Many would probably wonder: 'What the heck happened to these guys?'. Many also wouldn't expect the answer to be 'zombie apocalypse' either, however. Which is exactly what went down just a few towns away in Raccoon City.

The three of them stumbled into his dimly-lit apartment, which was not only small, but also a bit unkept. Almost as if he hadn't expected to have people over.

"One of you should probably shower first, I need to try tending to this wound before it gets worse", Leon offered, carefully planting himself onto the sofa.

"Sherry, why don't you go first. I'll help you out at first if you need it", The older of the two girls bent over, matching the height of the younger one.

"A-Are you sure, Claire?", She stammered.

"Of course, you've been through quite a bit today", Claire insisted.

Sherry was silent for a few moments before she piped up quietly, "Okay..."

A few minutes passed after the girls left the living room. Leon, after attempting to disinfect his wound, laid his head back and listened to the soothing sound of the water jets from the shower. It wasn't long before he began to feel sleepy...

That was until Leon heard the door to the bathroom open and close, making him practically shoot up from where he was sitting.

"Okay, I've got her settled in I think...you holding up in here okay?", Claire asked him.

"U-Uh, yeah...I'm doing alright", he lied, as if he wasn't falling asleep about a minute ago.

Claire smiles softly as she goes over and sits down beside him, the first time he'd seen her smile since they'd met less than a day ago.

"That's good", she says.

Leon smiles back at her and stares for a few seconds before catching himself.

"Oh, uh, I should probably get started on this", he replies, swiftly reaching for the first aid kit that was leaned up against the sofa.

"Ack!", he winced, suddenly grabbing at his wounded shoulder.

Claire grabbed the first aid kit out of his hands, "Here, let me help with that"

By this point, Leon had already stripped off all of his police gear and was only wearing pants and an undershirt. As Claire began unwrapping the gauze and bandages to protect the wound, she began to get slightly distracted by his features.

Like how his dirty-blond locks fell into his face, his ocean-blue eyes, and not to mention his muscular build. Despite only being on the force for a day, he probably had to go through a ton of hard training.

"Er..Claire?"

"Yeah?"

"...I think that's enough bandages", Leon chuckled lightly, referring to the long mess that had been rolled onto the floor.

Claire nodded in response, "Oh! Heh, right!"

She rolled the extra bandages up into the roll in a circular motion until there was just enough there for her to slowly and gently wrap them around his shoulder. 

"Can I ask you something, Leon?"

"Hm?"

"What made you want to become a cop anyway?", Claire questioned.

"Well...", he sighed heavily.

"I didn't know what I wanted to do for a while, but...If I had to be honest, after my parents were killed I became rather fascinated with solving crime I guess"

"...Oh", Claire sat in shock, as it was quite a lot to take in.

"Sorry. I probably shouldn't have brought that up"

Claire tried to reassure him, "It's alright...My brother and I lost our parents about five years ago now. Crazy how it happens, right?"

"Yeah...", Leon replied in almost a whisper.

There was nothing but silence between the two for a minute or two, the only sound being the shower running in the next room over.

"Sherry should almost be done with her shower now, would you mind if I went next?", she asks him.

"I don't mind at all"

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

By the time the three of them finished taking turns in the only shower in Leon's apartment, it was starting to get pretty late.

"So I'm afraid the only actual bed here is my own. Though, the couch in the living room pulls out into a bed", He says.

Claire looks around, "Sherry and I can take the pullout couch If its big enough for two people"

"Hmm, let me check"

A section of the medium-sized couch unhooks and extends out with a groan, revealing a mattress that was much too small to fit the weight of two people. The trio stands there above it, probably thinking that they should have just stayed at a motel for the night instead. That probably would have been the case if they had any sort of money on them to begin with.

"Y'know what? Why don't I take the couch. I know for a fact my bed is big enough for the two of you", Leon offered.

"Are you sure? It is your bed, Leon", Sherry speaks up in a soft, yet insistent voice.

"Don't worry about me. Personally, I think we all just deserve to get some rest tonight", he replies.

Sherry and Claire shoot each other a glance.

Leon yawns softly and sits himself down on the pullout mattress, "If you guys need anything at all, don't hesitate to come get me, okay?"

"Of course", Claire nods.

"Same goes for you, Leon"

...

About an hour had passed since the group had retired for the night, and despite being tired beforehand, Leon found himself unable to sleep. Perhaps it was due to the fact that he wasn't used to not sleeping in his own bed, or the tight firmness of the mattress itself. 

It wasn't like he was that picky about where he slept, obviously. Maybe, the most likely reason was because of the horrific events of the day. Things the man of twenty one had never witnessed before, even after what had happened to his parents.

The tossing and turning soon stopped on its own, and Leon found himself falling into a rather uncomfortable sleep...

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

Leon awoke to the rustling of early fall leaves outside.

Strange. He  could have sworn he kept the windows closed that night. He opened his eyes and sat up from where he went to sleep the night before, and that's when he realized.

The windows of his low-lit apartment had been cracked and broken, glass strewn across the floor. Not only that, but the place looked like a hurricane had blown through it.

Someone must have broken in, of course. Right?

But what about Claire and Sherry? Were they hurt? What if they were hurt?!

Leon shot up from the pullout couch and ran into the bedroom.

No.

NO.

If the living room was destroyed, then the bedroom was worse. Curtains and sheets had been ripped, mangled and bloody,  just like the deceased bodies of the two girls in question. 

There was no doubt about it by just looking at them, the zombies had gotten to them, and they soon would become one of them too.

Leon dropped to his knees. This couldn't be. It just didn't make sense. How could it have been them and not him too? More importantly, why wasn't he there to stop it?

He had failed to protect them.

He felt himself spiraling into madness at that very moment. He wanted to scream so badly, but he couldn't, and the more he tried to, the more he felt like he was suffocating himself.

In the midst of it all, the room then quite literally began to spin.

Faster.

And faster.

...

Leon suddenly gasped awake, eyes widened and soaked in sweat. He frantically looked around the room, all the while trying to catch his breath. However, after about a minute his mind was able to stop and slow down just a little bit.

There was no broken glass from the windows, and the area had been left the way it was when he had gone to sleep. He stared at the analog clock above him, whose hands read out "3:40am". 

He quietly got up from the couch, his heart still pounding in his chest, and peered into the bedroom, where the door was left slightly ajar. It was hard to see in the dark room, but it appeared that Claire and Sherry were still asleep, holding each other close. It was more or less amusing how Sherry was able to latch on to Claire as a mother figure so quickly. In fact, it was actually quite adorable.

Leon sighed in relief. So it was just a dream after all.

He then sped silently into the bathroom and flicked on the light. The only sounds that could be heard were the loud whirring fan and splashes of water from the sink, feeling cold and refreshing on Leon's hot-flushed face.

He slicked back his bangs and closed his eyes, taking a deep, heavy breath.

Then, a quiet voice was heard, "Leon?"

The man in question swiveled around with a jolt, "Geez, Claire. Don't scare me like that!"

"Sorry...", she half-whispered, staring down at the floor.

Claire then locked eyes with the disheveled man, whose old, baggy sweatshirt she had worn to bed that night, "...I thought I heard you get up and I just wanted to make sure everything was okay"

Leon sighed once more, "Yeah, I guess you could say I'm alright..."

"Just a bad dream I guess", he began to laugh at himself.

He felt so pathetic in that moment. There was nothing more uncomfortable to him than showing vulnerability, especially towards those he was initially trying to help. So he was nothing more than surprised when Claire pulled him into a gentle, reassuring hug.

It was actually one of the first times he'd received a genuine hug in many years. Due to this, he had begun to feel almost a little emotional.

"It's okay. We're okay now", she comforts him.

Claire pulls away for a second and notices the tears in the rookie officer's eyes, "You've been so strong. We all have"

The tears were now streaming down his soft cheeks. Leon lays his head on her shoulder.

After a few minutes pass, which feels like hours, the two finally let go.

"Why don't you stay with us, you'll feel more safe that way", Claire says.

"Okay", he replies with a nod.

...

Leon laid in his bed, nervous from laying next to his female companion (could he even consider her that?), and he could still hear the sound of the fall crickets from outside, even with all the windows closed.

"Hey", Claire whispered to him.

He sat slightly upward, "Hm?"

"Come here", she signaled to him.

He slid over towards her, where he had a set of arms swiftly wrap around his torso. Leon's body stiffened for a while, before finally relaxing, the soft sounds of breathing from Claire and Sherry eventually lulling him back to sleep.

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

Leon awoke that next morning to the streams of sunlight beaming through the closed curtains of his bedroom and the ringing of the telephone.

He could only hear bits and pieces of the conversation, but he was awake enough to hear that Claire was the one talking.

"...Yes?"

"Are you sure, Chris?"

"Thank you so much, that'd be great!"

"Okay...Bye now!"

*click*

For the next few minutes, the sound of talking could be heard between Claire and assumably Sherry, most likely making breakfast. They sounded quite excited. Finally, Leon got up to see what all the excitement was even about.

The two were laughing as he walked out of the bedroom, "What's so funny?"

"Oh! Good Morning, Leon. We made breakfast!", Sherry smiled.

"Looks great! Did you make it all yourself?", he teased.

She laughs, pouring heapings of eggs, toast, and bacon onto three separate plates, "Ah, no. I had a little help from Claire" 

"I hope we didn't wake you up, we tried to be quiet about our excitement", Claire said apologetically.

"Not at all. What was all the excitement about, anyway?"

"Well...You remember how I told you about my brother, right?", she began.

"Yes"

"He offered us a place to stay about an hour or two from here. That way, we'll be completely safe"

"That's wonderful news, Claire!", Leon smiles.

"Though, one other thing...", she interrupts.

"Oh?"

Claire suddenly grabs his hands, "We want you to come too!"

Leon was hesitant, "Oh, but I-...Um.."

"Don't worry about your apartment, Leon. Claire told me that Chris's house is muuuch bigger!", Sherry butted in.

Claire stuttered slightly, "Feel free to think about it if you wa-"

"Sure", he said, barely even thinking for a second about how nicer a house would be than a crummy apartment.

"Yay!!", Sherry cheered.

"We're gonna be like one big family!"

Leon and Claire looked over at her at the same time, "Wait...'family'?"

"Yeah, is...that not what we are now?", Sherry asked. 

The two of them looked back at each other and then at Sherry again, "I...guess so?"

...

After breakfast, Claire and Leon immediately began packing up and prepping for the trip.

Leon was deep in thought, especially over the whole 'family' thing. Admittedly, the idea of them all being a family was pretty cute, but could that really ideally be a thing even after what happened yesterday?

Guess there was only one way to find out.

To Be Continued...

[zodiakuroo]

Love Thy Brother

Pairing: Dabi x Fem!Reader

Content: 18+ dubcon/noncon, dabi’s canononical dick piercings  manhandling, rough sex, corruption, degradation, humiliation, manipulation, blackmail, spit, stepcest, loss of virginity, dacryphilia, mentioned breeding, blasphemy and sacrilege : 3

Word count: 4.1k

Notes: secured my spot in hell with this one for sure anyways touya-nii go brrrrr

part 2 here!

But he that hates his brother is in darkness, and walks in darkness, and knows not whither he goes, because that darkness hath blinded his eyes. – 1 John 2:11

Gaining 4 new siblings as a young adult is not something anyone expects, you think, but you’re grateful to have been accepted into Enji Todoroki’s family nonetheless.

Fuyumi was the big sister you always wanted, kind and nurturing, always happy to let you borrow her clothes and give you advice. You and Natsuo the closest in age.  He was warm and friendly and while he teased you a lot it was never mean spirited, just the kind that was typical between siblings. Shoto was quiet in nature and though it took him more time than the rest to warm up to you, eventually you two became friends as well.

And there was Touya…..

Well, Dabi as he prefers to be called.

When you first met him, you were terrified, the shock of seeing him made you hide behind your mother instinctively.  The Todoroki clan looked every bit the perfect suburban family except for Dabi. He had his hair dyed jet black, with seemingly more tattoos than clean skin. He had several cartilage piercings in his ears as well as three small studs in his nostril and a barbell through his eyebrow.  He scoffed at your scared reaction, sticking out his tongue to show you the silver ball on its surface and sending a wink your way.

Admittedly, felt guilty for judging Dabi based on his appearance, but you would soon come to find that sometimes it’s better to trust your judgement.

At first, Dabi ignored you, acted as if you didn’t exist. And the times when he was forced to acknowledge your presence in his family he acted as though you were nothing more than a nuisance. You thought that you might have offended him somehow but Fuyumi assured you that Dabi was just like that and that you shouldn’t take it personally. “He just needs to get to know you.” She said.

She was wrong though. Dabi couldn’t stand you.

Everything about you infuriates him. Prancing around in those frumpy sweaters and modest skirts like anyone would bother to lewd you anyways. Lest they attempt, you wear that gold cross necklace everywhere you like a big old “PROPERTY OF JESUS” tag. Your insistence to say a prayer every time the family dog so much as farts. The way his entire family seems to be enamored by your church girl act. Perhaps what he hates most is the way you look at him, poor delinquent Dabi, like you’re so much better than him. Sanctimonious bitch.

Then he noticed how you were with Natsuo. How you would pout and whine when he teased you and sometimes, to everyone’s shock and amusement, banter back and forth with him. Let’s be clear here, he didn’t care about you. He cared about attention. You were giving too much of your attention to his younger brother and that just wouldn’t do.

Pretty soon, Touya was in on the teasing. He started out by making fun of you for being so conservative. Low-hanging fruit. You’ve heard it all before so it didn’t wrench much of a reaction for you but that just made him more determined. Sometimes it got downright mean, earning him a scolding from Fuyumi. Not that he would listen anyways

Then it got physical. It started innocently enough, Dabi would tug on your hair, snatch food out of your hands, kick you underneath the dinner table. Albeit childish, it was incredibly annoying. You would shriek and yell for him to cut it out and after finally getting the desired reaction from you, he became hungry for more.

So he started taking more risks. When you were in the kitchen alone Dabi would brush his hand under your skirt making you squeal. That progressed to him flicking up your skirt to catch a glimpse of your panties which progressed to him spanking you so hard, you’d think of him every time you sat down for the rest of the day.

On the days when he was in a good mood (read: stoned out of his mind), he would pull you into his lap and hold you there, blowing smoke in your face that made you cough so that he could laugh. Sometimes he would let his hands wander, over your chest and between your thighs while you squirm in his hold. He’d say “Anyone ever touch you like this? I hope not, I’m sure it would piss off Jesus”

As if the touching wasn’t invasive enough, Dabi felt he was entitled to your room and personal artifacts. Often you’d come back from campus or church to find the contents of your underwear drawer spilled on the floor. You would notice a pair or two missing when you packed them back.

One time he vandalised your bible with drawings of penises on every single page.

“D’ya like my artwork princess?” he said when you confronted him. In a fit of rage, threw the book at his head. You missed (unfortunately) making him like laugh. “Surely there’s something condemning violence in that book of yours.”

You tried locking him out of your room but all that did was make him angrier. He threated to break your door clean off its hinges if you did it again.

Which brings you to your current predicament.

It had been a long day. You woke up late landing you in trouble with your manager. Your coworker fell ill and you had to cover a double shift, with no shortage of asshole customers on this particular day it seems. On top of all that, you just got stood up for date. You come home to a quiet house and you’re so grateful for this small blessing on a day like this. After a long, scalding hot shower, you lie on your bed wrapped in a fluffy, white towel, contemplating your next move.

You were home alone and with a family this big that hardly ever happens. You do what any person would do after having the day you had.

You smile to yourself, undoing the knot on your towel and falling back onto your pillows, hands already caressing your breasts.

You’re a Christian not a robot. Of course you masturbate. Sure you feel ashamed. You can hear your mother’s voice chide about how sinful it is but that all melts away when your little fingers slide between your wet folds. Shame can wait.

Being the menace in your life that he is, the eldest Todoroki chose that exact moment to barge into your room unannounced.

You scramble for your covers trying your best to preserve some modesty but it’s too late, you’ve been caught. You shriek in terror.

“Oh my god!” Dabi practically cackles.

“Dabi! It’s not what it looks like I swear.”

“Oh really?” He stalks over to your bed with the predatory grin on his face. “Because to me it looks like my innocent, holier than though baby sister is a nasty, little, closet pervert.” He’s now straddling you over your covers, you want to fight him off but that would mean letting go over your duvet and you know once you do that, it’s over. Dabi has the upper hand though. Soon he’s got both of your wrists in one of his hands, pinned above your head. His other hand, almost immediately, is pulling the down the covers, revealing your naked torso to him. “Huh.’ He muses as he palms one of your breasts. “Seems like it’s exactly what it looks like.”

“Dabi! Get off me!” You squirm under him but he’s too heavy so it’s no use.

“Nice tits Sis.” Dabi ignores your protests. “I don’t get why you keep them hidden.”

“I’m not your sister you creep!” you say with as much venom as you can muster.

“Aw princess,” he pouts and moves his hand up to cup your jaw, squeezing your cheeks harshly “it hurts your Nii-san’s feelings when you talk to him like that. I wonder what our parents would think. Should I tell them how filthy their sweet, little daughter really is?”

He revels in the fear in your eyes. You shake your head frantically. “No Dabi please! Please don’t tell them.” You whimper, words garbled.

“Don’t tell them what little sister? What were you doing?” He smirks. His hand goes back to your breast, this time to tweak your nipple.

The sadistic freak. Was he really going to make you say it? He answers your silent question with a sharp smack to your breast.

“I-I was masturbating.” You mumble, squeezing your eyes shut, cheeks burning from embarrassment.

“No, you weren’t”  he says as a matter of fact before pinching your already stiff nipple making your eyes shoot open and you yelp in pain. “You were playing with your little virgin cunt. Now say it.”

There is no way you could say those words. Has he not humiliated you enough? You try once again to break free but he’s got an iron grip on your wrists and he’s sitting on top of your thighs. There’s no way you’re getting out of this.

He pinches you again but harder this time, twisting your nipple and keeping it there.

“I was ah­ I was playing with my v-v-irgin c- Dabi! Cunt! There I said it! Let go!”

He snickers at your pain but let’s go of you entirely, shifting his weight off of you. You’re grateful for the reprieve, immediately pulling up the covers to cover up your body again. You will yourself not to cry until Dabi has left the room or else you’ll never hear the end of it. But he’s not finished with you yet.

“Show me.” He sits down on your desk chair facing you, his legs spread wide.

“What?” Surely you misheard him.

“Show your Nii-san how you play with that ‘little virgin cunt’” He smiles using air quotations.

“Dabi, this is wrong-“ you whimper

“Touya-nii.” You furrow your brows in confusion and he says again. “Call me Touya-nii. I’m not leaving this room until I see what I want.”

Say what you want about Dabi but he’s a man of his word. You know he means what he says. The last thing you want is for anyone in your family to come home and find you naked in your room with your step-brother. It’s just better to do what he asks demands.

You slowly peel the covers off you, exposing your naked body to your step brother. He’s eyeing you intently, palming the growing bulge under his jeans. His sister was hiding such a hot little body, right under his roof and he had no idea. You can’t bear to look at him. You clamp your thighs shut to hide your pussy from him, a weak attempt to save what’s left of your dignity. You wriggle your hand in between your legs and you try to move it as best you can without showing him more of you.

Wait.

You’re wet?

You’re wet.

Well screw dignity I guess.

“Oh none of that.” Touya scoffs. “Spread your legs.”

You obey him and he rewards you with a low whistle. “What a cute little pussy.” He murmurs so low you’re not even sure he’s talking to you. You flinch, wanting to close your legs on instinct but a firm “Don’t” from Dabi stops you in your tracks. “Show me how my little sister likes to play.”

His words make your pussy throb but you’re still reeling, both physically and mentally at, the shock from your current position so when your fingers try to rub circles on your clit, they’re shaky and sloppy.

“That’s pathetic. Is this how you do it? No wonder you’re so uptight, you probably never cum huh? Put your fingers inside, I wanna see you stretch your little hole.”

“Dabi I-“

“I won’t ask you to address me properly again. Next time, you’re getting your ass beat.”

“T-Touya-nii. I’ve never… put them inside.” You mumble.

“Never?” He can’t hide the amusement in his voice.

You simply shake your head, unable to meet his gaze.

Fucking jackpot. He thinks.  This is why he loves virgins.

“Oh no. Does the poor baby want her Nii-san to show her how it’s done?” voice dripping with condescension.

You’re horribly ashamed. Disgusted by the whole situation. And yet you find yourself nodding.

Dabi crawls on to your bed, discarding his shirt in the process. Next thing he has you flipped over, ass in the air, lying across his lap.

He spanks you, hard. Like he always does, loud smack echoing through the room. You cry out like you always do but it’s different this time. It’s different because this time you’re naked, on top of him. It’s different because you can feel his hard-on poking into your stomach. It’s different because everything about the situation is making you clench.

He grips the sore, reddened flesh and pulls apart your cheeks to look right at your fluttering hole. His thumb finds your clit and he starts to rub slow circles into it. “I meant what said you know. This is the prettiest fucking cunt I’ve ever seen.” You let out a whine as you feel his warm, wet spit land right on your opening, before Touya slides a long, slender middle finger into your tight pussy. He uses his other hand to hit you again. “You’re a good girl right? What do good girl’s say when they get compliments?”

Your head is spinning from his ministrations, so much so that a verbal response escapes you. You’re too busy bucking your hips against his hand. Dabi snaps you out of your trance with another spank, even harder, so your feel the sting spread across your glute. “Hnnghh… thank you Touya-nii.” He rewards you with his ring finger finding its way inside you as well. “Shit.” You say through gritted teeth. You clench around him trying to adjust to the foreign sensation.

Whack. This time on the other cheek, both burning red by now, you’re sure. “Where’d you learn to talk like that, naughty girl?” The way he’s moving his fingers inside you feels like he’s looking for something, you have no idea what. It’s not unpleasant but uncomfortable. You turn your head back to look at his face. It’s the same face he makes when he’s rolling a joint or playing video games with his friends. He’s concentrating. “Fuck, relax for me princess.” You’re trying. You’re really trying. You take a deep breath, trying to think about anything other than the way you’re being stretched.

Then it hits you. An overwhelming ecstasy, spreading from your groin, all the way down to your toes. You figure out that’s what he’s been looking for.

You find yourself grinding down onto his bulge in an attempt to escape the onslaught of his fingers, but it’s no use, not with the way his thumb is circling your throbbing clit.

“Can’t even take two fingers in this tiny pussy huh? How are you gonna take my cock?” Dabi gives you a third finger and the stretch is officially unbearable.

You can’t do anything but pant in his lap while he holds you down, making sure that you keep still. Suddenly, you realise the gravity of the circumstances you find yourself in. Your step brother is going to fuck you and there’s nothing you can do about it.

“God, please slow down!” You cry out. He keeps hitting that spot over and over. It’s too much. You look back at him with tears in your eyes, pleading for reprieve. The satisfied smile on his face lets you know that he couldn’t care less. You feel an orgasm building, stronger than any that you’ve given yourself.

“No God here, doll. Just the Almighty Dabi. And guess what? He wants you to come for him.”

Even before he finishes his sentence, you’re already convulsing on top of him. For a moment you forget how debauched the situation is. Being debased by a man who you not only despise but are related to. All feelings of shame are replaced by pure, hot bliss that sets your nerves on fire. Dabi does not relent. Not until the please you feel is eclipsed by the pain of oversensitivity and you’re writhing in futile attempt to escape.

Dabi pulls his fingers out of you and wraps his other hand around your neck, dragging you up to face him. He holds his fingers, covered in your cream, right in front of your face. “Messy slut. Clean them.”

Before you can respond the fingers press against your lips. You have no choice but to take them inside your mouth. He grips the back of your head while you lave your tongue over his fingers, sucking off your release. He’s keeps a tension on your strands that makes your scalp sting. It’s a silent warning to keep your eyes on him. You’ve caught on by now that he wants this to be as humiliating as possible for you. As if coming on your step-brother’s fingers weren’t humiliating enough. He shoves his fingers deeper, making you gag around them drool seeping from the corner of your mouth.

“Good girl.” He growls as he wipes his saliva covered fingers dry on your face. Again, you fight back the tears of embarrassment. You won’t give him the satisfaction.

Dabi prompts you with cruel tug on your hair. “Gah! Th-thank you Touya-nii.” You whimper.

“Hmm.” His hands move to your hips and he rolls his hips to grind his hard cock into your core. “You want Nii-san to fuck you now?”

Your bottom lip quivers. Is he giving you an out? You pray to God that Dabi is giving you a way out of this. You doubt God cares about what you want right now but still, you hope he can grant you this one mercy, you’ll make it up to him somehow. You shake your head no. You probably look so pitiful right now, naked on top of Touya while he bucks up against you, your own spit streaked across your face, barely stopping the tears in your eyes from spilling.

“Liar.” He sneers. “You want your big brother to split that virgin hole right open.”

You’re stupid for thinking he would give you a way out. You realise that now. No point in trying not to cry. Nothing is gonna stop him from getting what he wants anyway. You can’t hold back the choked sobs anymore

“Such pretty tears, baby.” Dabi coos at you. “Don’t worry. Nii-san is gonna give you exactly what you want.”

He picks you up off of him and positions you exactly how he wants, on all fours, swollen cunt exposed for him. He kneels behind you and you hear the sounds of him undoing his jeans. You turn your head back, curiosity getting the better of you. Your eyes find Dabi just in time to see him free himself from his boxers, which join his jeans bunched at is knees. The sight makes your eyes go wide. It’s your first time seeing one in real life. Were they supposed to be that big? And… pierced?

He quirks a brow at you, smug look plastered on his face. He strokes himself in front of you, spreading his pre-cum along his shaft. He’s tilts it upwards to make sure you get a good look at the vertical barbell that goes through his tip and three horizontal, parallel bars along the underside. “You look scared. Don’t worry princess, Big brother Dabi’s gonna make it fit.” You feel his tip press against your opening and brace yourself.

You’ve heard stories from your friends. You know the first time hurts but God nothing could have prepared you for this .Touya makes good on his word, sliding his entirely until your pressed right against his pelvis. The scream you let out is ear shattering but you can’t help it, the stretch is excruciating. The way his piercings catch on your walls only, intensifies the burn. You crawl toward your headboard instinctively, it’s too much. Way too much.

He’s not having any of it. Dabi pulls you up to him with a hand wrapped around your throat until your back meets his front. “Shh shh shh. Don’t run baby. You’re gonna take all of it.” He groans right against your ear. Without giving you time to adjust, he begins to thrust into you at a relentless pace. You have no choice but to let him use you.

“Who’s fucking you huh? Who’s making you feel good?”

“My nii-san. Touya-nii is fucking me so good.”

“Yeah fuck. Love this holy pussy” He delivers a harsh smack directly on to your clit, making you quiver in his hold. He laughs at your reaction. “Gonna say a prayer for me babe? I wanna hear it.”

“Huh?” You’re barely lucid, there’s no way you heard him correctly.

“Well you’re a little sinner slut now. You should probably ask for forgiveness. Pray.”

You’re sure you’re beyond salvation now but you submit nonetheless. “Have mercy on me, O God, according to Your unfailing love; according to Your great compassion.” You gasp as he tightens his hand around your throat. “Against You, have I sinned and done what is evil in Your sight. Oh fuck Touya-nii!”

“Bad girl.” Dabi gives you another strike right on your aching clit. “Don’t think God is gonna be very happy with you.” Dabi is though. Dabi’s very happy with you. Your tight, gummy pussy sucks him back in every time he pulls back. It just makes him fuck you harder, he wants to make you scream louder for him.

“Create in me a pure heart, O God, and renew a steadfast spirit within me. Ngggghh Shit. Do not cast me from Your presence or take Your Holy Spirit from me.” You’re sobbing outright, gasping to get air into your constricted throat.

“You gonna cum? My bad girl gonna come for her big brother?” Dabi grunts into your ear.

“Yeah close Touya-nii.”

“Hmm me too.”

“NOT INSIDE TOUYA-NII” You begin to thrash in his arms.

“S’matter princess? Don’t wanna have your big brother’s babies? That’s hurtful.” He snickers. He releases your throat in favour of pressing you into the mattress, large hand resting between your shoulder blades. “Better cum before I do then.”

The ridges of his piercings rub up against that same sweet spot, over and over again. You’re dizzy from the lack of air and absolutely drunk with pleasure on his cock. Pretty much the only thing tethering you to this existence is the unforgiving grip he has on your ass, digging his nails into your flesh. He reaches his hand around to rub your sore, puffy clit. It pushes you over the edge a second time. You feel every muscle contract and relax as the waves of your orgasm wash over you, making you cry out in bliss.

As soon as you come down from your high, Dabi has you flipped on to your back and is straddling your torso. “Keep praying.” He mutters. He furrows his brows, huffing as he jerks off on top of you, eyes focused intently on your gold necklace.

“Restore to me the joy of Your salvation and grant me a willing spirit to sustain me. Then will I teach transgressors Your ways, and sinners will turn back to You. Amen”

“Yeah, fuck that’s it take it baby.” Dabi sprays his come over your chest, aiming his load right on your cross, a symbol of your devotion to Christ, defiled. He looks absolutely euphoric watching the ropes of his hot cum slowly run down onto your nipples and down the valley of your breasts

“Don’t you fucking move.” He pants, catching his breath. He picks up his phone and you hear his camera click. He looks at the picture and smiles. You look absolutely fucked out. Hair disheveled, face red and bloated from crying and completely covered in his load. Yeah a real good, Christian girl. He thinks.

“Dabi! No!” You lunge forward, trying to grab his phone from his hand. Almost effortlessly, Touya shoves you back onto the bed.

“Relax. No one’s gonna see it. Not unless you snitch to mommy and daddy.”

“You promise?” You grab the tissues from your nightstand and wipe yourself clean. The smell lingers though, along with the grimy feeling, seemingly embedded in your skin. You look up at him, sniffling, tears still rolling down your cheeks. If he were better person, he’d take pity on you for being so fucking stupid.

“Promise, little sis.” He shoots you a wink as he tucks himself back into his jeans.

Before he’s left your room he’s already sent the picture to his friend, Shigaraki.

[nev3rfound]

someone i once knew : b.b - p.6

now that your memories are resurfacing, it’s finally time for bucky to get the answers to his questions and to see you, the real you once more. (4.1k)

oh my goodness, this is it?! a quick non soppy thank you for reading, but seriously all of your comments, feedback and excitement have made writing this series so joyful for me, so thank you and i hope you like the last part!

PART ONE . PART TWO . PART THREE . PART FOUR . PART FIVE . PART SIX (THE ENDING)

(anything in bold/italics are flashbacks/memories!)

WARNINGS: mentions of hospitals, references to bucky’s ‘death’ in CATFA, blood, angst - i think that’s it!

masterlist / permanent taglist / etsy shop

(everything on my blog is my own writing. if it is shared on another page or website without being credited, it has not been approved to be shared by me. all rights reserved.)

Bucky ignored everyone as he stormed through the compound once he got off the jet. He didn’t care about the warnings being yelled at him, all he could hear were the words you uttered before you were taken away. ‘I remember.’

“Buck, wait,” Steve grabs Bucky by the shoulder, forcing him to a halt as he stares at Steve coldly. “she’s still fragile, Fury needs to see us, now.” Steve states, watching as the rage in Bucky’s gaze melt into sadness.

“I need to see her, Steve.” Bucky pleads as Steve lowers his hand from his friend.

“I know,” Steve sighs. “but she’s in good hands, the sooner we speak with Fury, the sooner you can see her.”

*

Opening your eyes, you blink rapidly as a series of faces greet you, all wearing bright smiles. “Hello, Y/n.” Someone steps forward, dressed in all black and with an eye patch covering one eye.

“I-”

“No no, don’t try and talk just yet.” The man states as he glances over his shoulder to the woman with a device in hand, tapping away at it whilst you watch in confusion. “I’m sorry to say it has been longer than it should’ve been since your last check-in.” He explains as you furrow your brows, remaining quiet. “We are aware that they are supposed to be every few years, but there was an accident involving Howard Stark.”

Your heart drops into your stomach, Howard, your dear friend who has helped you through all of this. “Is he?” You mutter, your voice is hoarse as the man simply nods.

“Due to Stark’s demise, it has taken us years to have access to your chamber.” He continues to explain, stepping away and past a group of people, strangers from those you knew whilst you remain inside your chamber.

“Years?” You ask, still tied up inside the chamber. Usually, once your eyes opened you would be released, allowed to walk with Howard and Peggy if she was available; but this feels wrong, somethings changed. “How long?”

The man pauses as he turns back to face you. “The year is 2011.”

Shaking your head in disbelief, you look over at all of the people before you. “No, no that’s not possible.” You breathe out, feeling your chest tighten as you fight in the restraints keeping you inside the chamber. “It was 1989!” You state, but the man simply turns away from you. “It was 1989.” You repeat under your breath as three men approach you, one with a needle in hand and without warning, plunges it into your forearm.

“You’ll be safe, Y/n.” The man tells you as your vision blurs once more until your head rolls forward.

*

“Take a seat, Sargent, Captain.” Fury directs them both into the room, seeing Tony already sat, waiting for them.

Sitting down apprehensively, Bucky remains perched on the edge of his seat, hearing the plates in his metal arm whir loudly as he clenches his fist. The action doesn’t go unnoticed by Fury who spares a glance at Maria, watching her close the door to the conference room.

“Are you finally going to explain what you know about my assistant and what the hell is going on here?” Tony asks, leaning back in his chair as he rests his feet on the table.

“Yes, we will.” Fury starts and Maria hands out a file from SHIELD, dated back to the late 40′s.

Taking the file in his grasp, Bucky eyes it carefully, noticing your name etched into the cover.

“What is this?” Steve questions whilst Tony and Bucky open their files, a photograph of you clipped onto the front page.

Running his thumb over the image, Bucky remembers being there for that photo. You had just gotten your summer dress, and he couldn’t keep his eyes off you. A photographer captured your smile as you walked into the hall for the weekend dance, Bucky right behind you, just out of shot.

“This is Subject 359 from Project Revive.” Fury presses a button on the tablet in front of him, revealing a projection of photos, showing you stood alongside Howard Stark and Peggy Carter, images causing heartache for the three men. “Miss Y/l/n volunteered herself after the war for an initiative to suspend life.”

“She went into cryo?” Bucky speaks up, sadness etches his tone as he focuses on your bright smile in the photo of you in between Howard and Peggy.

“She did, Sargent.” Fury states. “Y/l/n was Howard’s first subject to succeed in the trials, and was put into the induced state for organised periods of time and then awoken to ensure she was still healthy in all respects.”

More images flash up, showing both Peggy and Howard getting older, but you remaining youthful between the two.

Steve can’t help but feel his heart sinking at the sight of Peggy, the years he’ll never have with her, the forgotten time as a golden band remains on her ring finger.

“So how come she doesn’t remember anything?” Tony breaks his silence, tearing his eyes from the images of his dear old Dad to focus on Fury whose frown only deepens.

The projection disappears as Fury rises to his feet before pointing to Bucky. “The winter soldier happened.”

Bucky lowers the file from his grip as he watches Fury carefully. He remains quiet, too afraid of what will be said next.

“After the winter soldier executed Howard and Maria Stark, access to the chamber Y/l/n was held in was restricted.” Fury explains, now looking over to Tony who lowers his feet from the table and sits upright.

“That’s why you needed me.” Tony can’t help but scoff. “You took my DNA.”

“Howard was a smart man, but he knew his systems could easily be overridden by someone more intelligent in the future. So he ensured the only way the chamber holding Y/n could be accessed was by his own bloodline.”

Tony laughs quietly under his breath. “Tony,” Steve starts, but Tony carries on.

“God, Dad truly had a reason for everything didn’t he?” Tony remarks. “Too bad he wasn’t alive to see what a car crash he created.” He jokes, leaning forward to glare at Bucky whose head remains buried in his hands.

“It’s all my fault.” Bucky mutters. “Everything, after all this time.” He slowly sits upright as all eyes remain locked on him like a target.

“Not necessarily, Sargent.” Maria speaks up from the sidelines. “You see, Y/n had been left in cryo for just over two decades when we finally got to her. She was disorientated, and had missed an entire segment of history, the turn of the century, evolution of technology and much more.”

“So, we did what was written according to Howard, which Y/n had agreed upon if the time came.” Fury adds. “We took her to Wakanda, and suppressed her memories.”

Bucky shakes his head, throwing your file aside as he stands up. “No, she would never do that!” He yells, slamming his metal fist into the table causing it to split.

Remaining unphased, Fury carries on. “She did, Sargent. Look in her file and see for yourself.”

Bending down, Bucky picks the file up and skims through the various pages, past your health reports and to a legal document where your signature remains inked on the bottom of the page.

“Y/n Y/l/n was a broken woman after the loss of her best friend and fiance. She trusted those that were left behind and put herself into their hands, knowing she would be making a difference and aid the future of science and medicine.” A fraction of a smile forms on Fury’s face. “But bringing her into the twenty-first century meant changes had to be made in her mind. Memories had to be rewritten and others to be permanently hidden.”

“So how come she’s now remembering?” Tony asks. “And how come she ended up here, as my assistant of all people?” He huffs loudly.

Fury spares a glance to Hill who nods, before exiting the room. “Y/n was always going to have a job of some descript within SHIELD.” Fury paces around the room as the three pairs of eyes burn into his every move. “However, when Y/n returned from her time in Wakanda, after her memories had been rewritten we got in touch offering her a job opportunity which would lead to being Tony's assistant. What we didn’t expect during that time were two super soldiers to resurface from the dead.” Fury motions to both Steve and Bucky.

“So they triggered it?” Tony pieces the details together, pointing the blame to Bucky who tenses under Fury’s cold gaze.

“It seems that way. But now that she’s remembering, the details of the life she has supposedly had all these years are fading away. She’ll be confused for a while, but the memories implanted can be removed.”

“She can forget about that life?” Bucky questions quietly, having heard you briefly discuss memories of the life you never truly lived with such vividness. “She’ll only remember the life she lived with us?”

“Yes, Sargent.” Fury states. “Y/n Y/l/n will be the same girl you left in the 40′s, give or take some level of trauma.”

“Can I see her then?” The question leaves his lips instantly, barely allowing Fury to take a breath.

Yet, Bucky watches the glances exchanged between the other men, the uncertainty in their expressions whilst Bucky remains still.

Steve slowly stands up and pats Bucky’s arm, giving him a knowing smile before heading toward the door, Tony right behind him who doesn’t spare Bucky a glance.

Now alone with Fury, Bucky can feel his body tensing under Fury’s scrutiny. “Is there something else I’m supposed to know?” Bucky tries to remain composed as his leg bounces beneath the table, his foot repeatedly hitting the floor.

“Y/n will be unconscious, in a comatose state for the next week or so.” Fury explains, watching as Bucky sinks into his seat. “It’ll take time, Sargent, for her to recover from this.”

“But she’ll be Y/n.” Bucky comments, watching Steve and Tony walk in separate directions past the glass screens of the conference room without looking back.

Fury reaches down beside him, lifting up a metal briefcase. “Before you go, Barnes,” Fury unlocks the latches on the case, lifting the lid up. “there’s something you might like back.”

Bucky raises a brow as Fury reaches inside the case, taking something out and places it on the table.

Feeling his breath hitch in his throat, Bucky doesn’t trust his legs to work properly as he eyes the small box. “I, I never thought I’d see that again.” Bucky admits, a tired chuckle following.

“We kept it as per Y/n’s wishes.” Fury remarks, sliding the box across the table as Bucky grasps it in his flesh hand, opening the lid to reveal his prized possession, unable to forget the memories laced around the diamond ring.

Smiling at the jewel, Bucky closes the lid to the velvet box and places it into his pocket. “Thank you.” Bucky mutters. “For looking after her.”

“Y/n has been SHIELDS best-kept secret for almost 6 decades, Barnes.” Fury comments. “It’s about time she’s allowed another chance at living, don’t you think?”

Nodding to himself, Bucky pushes his chair back, hearing it scrape along the wooden floorboards.

“One more thing,” Fury interrupts as Bucky reaches for the door handle. “none of it was your fault, Bucky.”

Sparing a glance over his shoulder, Bucky focuses on Fury as he remains straight-faced, but reaches forward, bringing the projection back up of you, Howard and Peggy.

“I hope she knows that too.” Bucky thinks aloud as he opens the door, closing it behind him before he can hear Fury’s response.

Watching the former soldier walk down the corridor, Fury sighs deeply as he removes the projection. “I’m sure she will.” He closes the empty briefcase, knowing that this is the end of Project Revive, once and for all.

Hanging from the railing, Bucky could hear Steve screaming his name, his arm outstretched for him to grab.

The wind was hurtling at his body full speed as his fingers began to slip from the rails, but he knew he had to make it, he couldn’t leave you for the second time and not come home.

Steve began to climb down from the train, moving across the broken frame toward Bucky, stretching his arm. “Just hang on!” Steve yells, fear rising through his tone as the bolts of the railing Bucky is grasping onto begin to creak, pulling away from the metal lining of the wall.

“Steve, I,” Bucky calls out, moving along the rail closer to his friend.

“Grab my hand, come on!” Steve cries out, knowing he can save him, he has to save his best friend. “Come on, Buck.” He mutters, thinking back to the morning before they left, seeing you in Bucky’s arms with the ring on your finger, a whole future for you both awaiting to be lived.

Looking up in desperation, Bucky cannot stop the scream leaving his lips as the railing breaks as his body becomes weightless, his arm still outstretched as he falls.

Steve screams as Bucky cries, falling through the air toward the ground at full speed.

The train carries on, turning a corner leaving Bucky truly alone as Steve breathes heavily, his heart has broken into pieces as his best friend is gone.

Lying in the snow, Bucky can feel his breaths slowing, life draining from his body as the white ice surrounding him is turning crimson. “Y/n,” He breathes out, looking up at the bare branches reaching for one another from different trees. “I’m sorry.” He whispers as his eyes begin to dip, just as several men appear above him.

Panting heavily, Bucky looks over to the clock on his bedside table. 7 in the morning, again.

He buries his face into his hand, feeling guilt course through his body knowing you’re awake and he has yet to see you. Part of him was nervous to see who you’ve become and whether you’re still the same girl he loved and lost all those years ago. Or if you’re this new version that he knew as Tony’s assistant, one who views him as the former winter soldier, not James Barnes.

Playing with the ring in his fingertips, Bucky walks toward the medical wing within the compound, already hearing laughter sounding from the room causing his heart rate to spike.

“She was amazing, truly.” You tell Steve, resting your hand over his as he tries to stop tears falling from his eyes. “And she was happy in the end, you know that, right?”

“Yeah,” Steve mutters, wiping his eyes. “but she seriously punched Howard for not taking Maria on a date sooner?” He asks again as you nod, gentle laughs sounding from you both as Bucky hovers behind the entrance, a wall of apprehension stopping him from entering.

“Do, do you think he’ll visit?” It’s almost whispered as you look down at your marked hands, scratches and dark bruises now littering your skin.

Hearing faint movements from the doorway adjacent to your bed, Steve smiles to himself for a split second. “Why’d you think he wouldn’t?”

Bucky leans closer against the doorway, his heart hanging together by a mere thread as you shakily sigh. “I just, what if I’m not who he remembers or even wants in his life?”

Ever since your memories flooded your mind, you couldn’t stop thinking about him, wondering what he’d think of you.

“I’ve been awake for two days, Steve,” You add, doubt clouding your mind as Steve silently prays for Bucky to just walk in. “and, and he hasn’t been yet I just, I,” You stumble over your words, eyes locked on the sheets covering your body as you remain unaware of Bucky turning the corner, walking toward you.

“Hey, doll,” Bucky quietly calls out, standing still in the entranceway with the box now in his pocket, out of sight as he clasps both hands together, flesh into metal.

Your hand slips from Steve’s as you force yourself further up the bed, itching to climb out.

“I wouldn’t do that, you know what Bruce said.” Steve reminds you, yet you tear the sheets from your body and uneasily rise to your feet.

“Since when did that stop me, huh?” You joke back, Bucky unable to stop himself from smiling at your playful antics with Steve, giving him a glimpse of what he once knew.

Moving closer to one another, you both can’t help but note the changes. Your gaze hovers to his metal arm, the black plates etched with gold leading to his shoulder, his long hair and stubble lining his jaw. But he still had the same loving blue eyes, even if you could see the pain lingering behind them.

Yet, Bucky could still see it’s you. Despite the bruising and cuts across your skin, you hadn’t changed one bit.

“James?” You speak up, too afraid to reach out as your hands remain by your sides.

“Y/n.” Bucky responds softly, taking a step closer as Steve watches from the sidelines, having never anticipated seeing this moment happen after he saw Bucky fall from the train all those years ago.

“It’s really you, isn’t it?” You ask sadly as tears begin to fall across your cheeks.

Taking another step toward you, Bucky lifts his arm up to brush the tears from your face. His hand shakes as he takes a deep breath, allowing himself to cup your cheek in his hand.

Closing your eyes, you rest your hand over his as he holds back the sob in his throat. “It’s me, doll.” Bucky whispers as you squeeze his hand, not wanting to let go. “You have no idea how much I’ve missed you.” He breathes out, knowing no words can truly describe the past sixty years, not yet at least.

“I’ve missed you so much, James.” You try to compose yourself, knowing it’s no use as you look up at him, the man you’ve loved. “I never thought I’d see you again.”

Chuckling sadly, Bucky nods in agreement. “I thought the same until I heard you playing the piano the other week.”

“Wake and dream medley.” You remember it, having danced many a time with him at his Mother’s house, twirling around the living room whilst Rebecca laughed with you as Bucky dipped you and dropped you by accident. “I, I,” Stumbling over your words, Bucky glances over to Steve.

“I’ll leave you two alone.” Steve speaks up. “But it’s good to see you both, together after all this time.” He adds sincerely before stepping out of the room whilst Bucky guides you back toward the hospital bed, knowing you still need your rest even if you deny it.

“You’ve read my file, Y/n,” Bucky sighs. “I, I’m not the same man you knew.” He looks away, still cautious of himself, of his own mind. “There are things that I’ve done that I’m afraid of you learning about.”

Unable to take your eyes off him, you take hold of his metal arm with both your hands, gliding your fingertips over the cool metal as the plates whir into place.

And then the last thing Bucky anticipates hearing causes his ears to perk up. You giggle, a smile growing across your lips as you shuffle closer into Bucky’s embrace.

“I know James,” You tell him, lifting his arm to rest around you as you lean against his chest, inhaling the scent that was a foreign memory intertwined with old pillows after he left for war. “but I want you to know, I’ll love you, whoever you are or whoever you turn out to be. Nothing, and I mean nothing will change that.” You assure him, feeling his heart beating rapidly against his ribcage.

“You still love me?” He breathes out, trying to disguise the evident surprise in his tone, but you quickly move from his embrace, staring at him with sorrow in your gaze as your brows furrow together.

“You think I could ever have stopped?” You retort.

“Doll,” Bucky starts, but you shake your head.

“Why would you think I would’ve stopped, or possible could?” A scoff sounds from you as Bucky lowers his gaze to the marble tiles on the floor, shame overcoming his mind.

“James, for years I mourned you, I strove for a better future, dealing with losing you and Steve. My parents were gone, I had no one left besides myself.” You explain, fighting through your emotions that have been suppressed with your memories for so long. “In all that time, not once did I ever stop loving you, even if you were gone.”

“I was never very good at loving you though, Y/n.” Bucky admits. “We both know that I, I left you, twice. Both times with the promise of coming home.”

“And you did.” You comment, resting your hand on his stubbled cheek as Bucky glances up, seeing a shy smile form on your face. “You’re here now, we both are.” You chuckle in disbelief. “By some means, we’re both here, in the twenty first century, alive.”

“Never thought I’d live to see the turn of the century, let alone live in it completely.” Bucky jokes, hearing you laugh quietly. “Will, will you still have me then, Y/n?” He asks softly as he reaches into his pocket, revealing the small velvet box.

Your eyes widen in shock at the sight of it. “They gave it back to you?” You ask in disbelief, feeling the corners of your lips bury further into your cheeks whilst Bucky nods.

“And now I’m giving it back to you, its rightful owner.” Bucky states, lifting the lid revealing the ring, your ring. “That is, if you’d still like it, doll?” He apprehensively asks.

Yet, you roll your eyes, unable to stop yourself from huffing in response. “Are you seriously asking me that?” You remark, and Bucky blinks for a moment. “And like this? Come on, Buck, at least give it a little class.” You joke, only ever calling him ‘Buck’ in times of relief.

Moving from off of the bed, Bucky grunts as he kneels down in front of you on one knee. “Y/n Y/n, will you do me the honour of becoming my wife, my doll and my best friend forevermore?” His words mirror those he uttered decades ago in that old dance hall, and yet they still roll off his tongue with the same ease.

Following his action, you lower yourself from the bed, Bucky reaches out to support your waist as you kneel in front of him. “Yes,” You smile. “and I guess this time, forever means forever, huh?”

“You’re stuck with me doll,” Bucky jokes as you lean closer, your lips ghosting his.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way, James.” You whisper, closing the distance between you both as you kiss him, the sensation of coming home after all this time hitting you like a ton of bricks as you wrap your arms around him, wishing to never let him go.

“Close your eyes.” Bucky whispers, and you oblige. “Think of him, think about any details that you have relived, any conversations or scenery you noticed.” Bucky suggests, trying his hardest to not reach out and take your hand in his.

Keeping your eyes closed, you try to focus on his face, hear his voice, but it’s all too much of a blur. “It’s no use.” You sigh, burying your face in your hands. “I just, I know if I ever saw him again or met him somehow, I’d know who he was.” You mumble into your palms, unaware of Bucky tearing his eyes from you, the ropes pulling his heart snapping for good, now beyond repair.

“You’ll find him, Y/n.” Bucky pats your back, hearing you sniffle.

“You think?” You ask, lifting your head back up as you half-smile to Bucky who nods.

“I’m sure of it.” He forces a smile, but you can tell it’s not reaching his eyes.

And after all this time, Bucky was right, you had found him; only to discover he’d been there all along.

T H E  E N D 

(thank you to the following for all the love on the series - i couldn’t have done it without your support :) ) 

@mellmellmell12@theofficialzivadavid @fandom-princess-forevermore @lokilovefoever @vivalakatee @chgevorgian @captainwinterwriter @carliewinchester @spn-obession @buckysquad @shower-me-with-roses @basicgukk @yasminwashere @sunfouler @feminist-fan-girl @stealapizzamyheart @soccer-100000   @sunflowerbunny2   @kickingn-ames @choerriesmotion @why-thats-just-delightful @officialfictionalwreck @romanoff-nataliaalianovna @hersilencedscreams @b-r-stark @dezzxmx @thearcher-temis @i-lost-my-shoe-down-a-drain @girl-obsessed-with-things @loitsurohto @shawnie--jo @alainabooks143 @dorothea-hwldr @bakugouswh0r3 @chloe-skywalker @btsiguess-kpop @austynparksandpizza @tomisagod @22-frozen-memories @peachy-aisha @emilytheukuleleplayer @pass-me-jeez-it @yuukiahim 

[nationalharryleague]

In the Long Green Grass

Pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

Genre: the fluffiest fluff with husband!harry  

Word count: 2K

A/N: Hi everyone!! Merry Christmas to all that celebrate!! this is my Secret Santa (run and organized by the lovely lu (@meetmymouth​) gift to the sweetest angel who walks among us miss hasibi (@peachybloomss​)!!! I hope you enjoy it my love!!! More of my writing can be found in my masterlist and I would love to hear what everyone thinks in my ask! Thank you so much for reading!! 

*** 

You were stirred by the sounds of the waves crashing against the cliff outside the home as the early morning sun streamed in through the windows. A small huf and whine left your lips, always one to ask for just five more minutes in bed, before you climbed from underneath the warm plush blankets and your toes hit the icy and worn wood floors beneath you.

The buttery yellow sunlight thwarted your plans to fight yourself back to sleep for those last few moments, prompting you to reach out your arms in a longing stretch. You released a light and sleepy hum of surprise when your arm hit a tiny furry body, and not the arm of the man who loved to sleep late in the bed beside you. Peeping one eye open, you made eye contact with Piper, Harry’s small jet black cat with glowing green eyes who was laying next to you, curled up on sheets that still held the indent of his body in them.

Piper wore a face of annoyance, obviously blaming you for interrupting her precious beauty sleep, and her eyes followed your body as you forced yourself out of the bed with one goal: find Harry.

Harry had a habit of disappearing, especially in a new place where there was just so much to explore. He was a wanderer (and an aquarius); always on the move, carried along by a thought or idea he just couldn’t resist. It was hard for him to sit still, a trait he probably picked up after tour after tour after tour, never allowing himself the luxury of rest or relaxation after it was never allowed to him. That was why you had insisted he needed time away from the city, finding a perfect spot in a small cottage that sat on the edge of a cliff along the ocean with a back garden full of sweet smelling flowers and tall cushony grass.

You tiptoed carefully down the spiral staircase that lovingly let out groans underfoot, still rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, into a kitchen that looked straight out of a fairytale. It was small with moss green cabinets and large bay windows that filled the space with light that kept the seemingly hundreds of plants in the house happy and thriving. A cool ocean breeze came in through the open windows of the small breakfast nook, bringing along the scent of a fresh pot of coffee that sat on the butcher block countertops like it had been waiting for you to wake all along. While you felt a jump of excitement within you for the coffee, it still hadn’t been what (or who) you were looking for, even though you were very glad you found it.

A sweet cup of coffee was thoughtfully prepared in a tea cup you had found in the cabinet with small wisteria flowers painted around it’s rim. You knew Harry would poke fun at your cup choice if he were there. “Tea cups are for tea,” you could hear him say, perking up the edges of your mouth into a gentle smile as you sipped it carefully. But the flowers reminded you of the beautiful wisteria tree that flowed in the wind and scattered it’s petals all over the back garden; you just couldn’t pass it up.

It took you quite a while to find him, even with the new found caffeinated energy running through your system. You had run into the two other cats at the house, both rather chubby tabbys named Jack and Gus, that called this back garden home on your search and you obviously had to say good morning. The two rubbed themselves up against your legs, begging for a scratch behind the ear and a bit of attention, and you obliged. Who were you to deny them of it?

The garden the cats got to call home was a dream. It was filled with every variety of colorful flower imaginable and blanketed in a sweet air that always hovered over the space. Your favorites were the small peachy blooms that smelled of sugary perfume. A stone fence ran the perimeter of the yard, a white picket fence in the middle opening to a swath of overgrown grass that swayed in the wind on a hill. If you squinted, you could see the house of the couple you were renting the cottage from, but they were far enough away it felt like you were the only people around for miles.

When you spotted a Harry-shaped hole in the tall grass up the hill, you had a sneaking suspicion you had found your missing husband.

The tall grass squished beneath your feet as you climbed the hill, creating a soft padding below, and the long blades tickled against your bare legs as you made your way towards him, still only dressed in one of his perfectly worn t-shirts from the night before.

“There you are,” you hummed happily when you reached him, standing above him as he layed in the grass. “I thought that I lost you.”

He looked like a renaissance painting as he laid in the grass that was dotted with small pink and purple wildflowers. His curls had gotten a little longer during his much needed break and they splayed out around his head in delicate ringlets like a halo. The light from the still rising sun bounced off his slightly dewy skin, giving him a glow that lit him up even more than usual. Stubble danced across his cheeks and jaw, framing his perfectly pink lips that held a gentle smile as he looked up at you from the ground. And his eyes squinted slightly, shielding his pupils from the ever growing brightness of the sky, creating delicate little wrinkles around his sea glass green eyes that looked so vibrant in the light.

A worn book that you hadn’t seen before, bound in dark green leather with gold detailing, sat on his chest; Poems for Lovers: A Collection was embossed delicately across the cover.

“You’ll never lose me,” he mumbled up at you, a gravel in his voice like it was the first time he had used it that day. You had been married for almost two years and had been together for five, but your cheeks never failed to redden when he spoke sweet nothings like that. “Good morning, angel,” he said softly, reaching his hand up for yours.

You moved to place your hand in his, but ended up only linking your pinkies together in the process; a light tug from the man below you signaled for you to join him on the ground. You couldn’t resist, sitting yourself down with your legs crossed in front of you on the slightly damp ground next to him, pinkies still locked together.

“Morning,” you greeted. “I missed you in bed. Piper isn’t much of a cuddler,” you chuckled while absentmindedly playing with his fingers, twirling his wedding band.

“She’s not very nice, is she?” he smiled, opening his eyes fully to meet yours as you strategically moved your body to block his delicate eyes from the sun. “I’m sorry my cat’s a bitch,” he joked. “She still thinks she’s my number one girl.”

“I tell her I’m sorry that I stole her spot in bed all the time, she never listens. Won’t even have a civil chat with me about it,” you teased sarcastically.

Harry let out an enthusiastic giggle at your words; it was high pitched, and came from his belly in loud bursts of air. His cheeks scrunched up and forced his eyes closed because he was smiling so wide, crinkling the corners of his eyes once again. His laughter was infectious and you couldn’t help but join in.

You two must have looked insane, sitting in the grass in a field in the middle of nowhere just after dawn, laughing like idiots. But you wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. Well, a few more hours of sleep wouldn’t have hurt.

As your gigges died down, you turned your attention to the book resting on his chest. “You ditched me in bed for a book?” you teased, letting the remaining laughter escape your body.

“I couldn’t sleep and I found it on one of the bookshelves. I thought it would be nice to read in the grass and watch the sun come up.”

“You should have woken me up. I could have thought of a few things we could have done to tire you out.” A smirk played on your lips as you tapped your chin, pretending to think, as you watched his eyes grow in amusement from your innuendo.

“You looked too peaceful sleeping. Also, drool and bedhead don’t really turn me on if I’m being honest.” It was your turn to react to his teasing.

Your jaw dropped in feigned offence and your finger flew over your shoulder to point back at the cottage. “I can go back if you’d like your privacy,” you said incredulously and with dramatics, until a few chuckles broke through and your resolve softened once again.

“Oh no no no,” he spoke with a grin, “come here,” moving the book and tapping his chest for you to rest your head on. You turned yourself around to lay yourself on the ground, placing your head on his chest and listening to his steady and calming heartbeat.

“How are your poems?” you asked, referencing the book he was now holding in his hands.

“They are very good. I’m glad I found it.” His voice reverberated under your head as he spoke, and you rose and fell softly with his breath.

“Read me your favorite.”

“Okay,” he began, thumbing through the pages as he held the book above both your heads. You listened as he let out a small “ah, here it is,” before he dramatically cleared his throat. “You might remember me talking about this one already, but I love it.”

You knew he loved it before he even began reading anything. He loved his poetry, especially when they were about love. Harry was a hopeless romantic at heart, often saying to you and interviewers “I just love love.” He loved falling in love with you and becoming a team, just as much as you did with him.

“It’s called The Wait,” he spoke gently, his voice taking on a deeper and more enunciated quality. You recognized the poem immediately, as it was the one referenced on his pants for the Vogue cover shoot. He had dedicated it to you then, and was doing it again now in the grass. “It seemed like years before I picked a bouquet of kisses off her mouth and put them into a dawn-colored vase in my heart,” he began. He spoke slowly and smoothly with the consistency and sweetness of honey. “But the wait was worth it,” he continued. “Because I was in love.”

You couldn’t help but think of your own story as he read. He had chased after you for years, with you always insisting that he was your best friend and you were afraid to ruin that. But gradually, your best friend became your lover, and your lover became your husband.

“I like that one a lot too.” You spoke softly and with reflection. “It reminds me of us.”

“That’s why it’s my favorite.”

You two layed in the grass for hours, not a care in the world, as he read from the book. Every poem took you two on a journey into a love story, one that for the two of you only existed on the page, but told of a very real love that couldn’t have been dishonestly written.

But with how you felt in the moment, with the joy and loving warmth you felt in your belly, you were sure you could write a million poems about the love you had with him.

Thank you so much for reading!! Reblogs/feedback mean the world!!! 

[mskimkaty]

I AM THAT GIRL

angst, slight fluff, smut

WARNINGS: MENTIONS OF DEPRESSION, MENTAL ILLNESS, SUICIDE, SELFHARM, DRAMA, SMUT, VANILA SMUT, SWEARING, KIM JENNIE IS A BITCH HERE AND SO OTHER MENTION REAL LIFE PEOPLE BUT ITS PURELY FICTIONAL.

synopsis:Johnny Suh, the most popular boy in college, tried to take his life? what could possibly go wrong with his wealthy background, popularity, and basically having everything in the palm of his hands?

expected word count: 12,692

release date: 01/18/21 (somehow, got deleted. so Im reposting)

details: college!au, strangers to friends to lovers!au.

JohnnySuh x reader.

Johnny Suh walked the hallways in his college ground and not one passerby gives him the freedom to do his business. Students give him a look of pity, as acquaintances try to give him fake words of comfort that disgustingly crawls at the back of his skin.

They were just into the gossip, but they never really care. It was obvious from how they whisper behind his back for looking out of place and out of character, he could see their mocking gazes every time he walks past them.

he pulled his hood up and covered his old blonde hair now dyed into jet black, the usual smile plastered on his lips was now in a tight line and was placed the usually friendly demeanor with a scowl on his face.

people are staring, not in a good way, but because he looks ridiculous in their minds.

"Youngho, if you need anything, I'd gladly do it for you." Johnny heard his Korean name roll of someone's lips and now he feels disgusted with himself for the 9th time that day, he was back to zero and the acid rushes past his throat and he might vomit with the anxiety building up in the pit of his stomach upon hearing his birth name. He halts his movements and turns around to face Kim Jennie.

How does she have the nerve to say that when she cheated on him with Jongin? He treated him like a brother. Her hands travel on his biceps, the usual warmth he felt in the past now buried at the back of his memories, and now, he's just disgusted with her. He ignored her and continued walking past her, Jennie's peers were instantly beside her to console her with words of comfort because her ex-lover practically brushes her off like she was nothing.

You didn't expect a drama unfolding in front of you while standing in your locker area, Christmas break was finally over, and now students are back putting their noses in other people's business. Especially, Johnny Suh's business.

You shrugged your shoulders and walks back to your class, this is definitely a way to start your first day at this University.

Johnny sat at the far back of the room, sporting unusual dark clothing rather than the usual light colors of his wardrobe, the professor walks in, shaking his head upon seeing him at the back completely not understanding how Johnny's mind works.

Johnny knows, just by the look his professor is giving at him, he knew and have seen that twice already — he couldn't control the urge to stand up harshly making the chair he was using falls down to the ground as he walks to the door not bothering to look back, stunning everybody in the room.

When Johnny came back to school after his attempt, he felt more pulled down in the darkest pit inside him, he was unhappy more than he did when he was attempting. The funny part? when people knew about his attempt, people started flocking around him as they cared, but it was obvious. They just wanted to be with him because of his surname and money.

Even Jennie did not differ from the other students trying to impress him. The sad part about it is that he genuinely liked her, but she was just up for it because of the money and fame, and maybe the good fuck. His friends were no different, people might think that he's happy being the captain of the football team, but his life was toxic with every moment. He was in more pain than ever, his friends who were his teammates low-key discarded him thinking he's a freak saying he needed to seek attention.

Johnny knew that they weren't practically saying that to his face, but they were showing it.

They weren't wrong, he knew that, but it was different. They were all trying to impress him, worshiping the ground he walks on and now he's on the rocky side of the road, they drop him? because their parents told them to?

Johnny empties his locker, blindly shoving everything in his duffle bag when his best friend, Kim Jongin, walks inside. He hardly shoved everything inside his bag and harshly closed his locker's door, scowling at the older boy.

"Look, I'm sorry, okay?" he heard him. "This isn't you at all, why are you suddenly changing? Johnny, I already said I'm sorry." that's the ugly fact. People around him are blind enough not to notice the slight changes in him and the little signs that he wasn't mentally stable.

"This isn't an apology. You're asking me to suck it up. It's Different."

Lunch came and Johnny has nowhere to go, not with all the pity looks the student body is giving him, he had a take-out for his meal and had his lunch alone in an empty room. deciding he has no appetite to eat something, he walked out of the building and drove out to Nakamoto Yuta's basement. He's supposed to be dead two weeks before this day, but here he was, seeking for Yuta's dirty business.

"Johnny Suh." Nakamoto Yuta was known for his dirty business around campus, selling overpriced illegal transactions under the table, tattoos, and piercing. "Stop talking like I'm some god. No god would try to kill himself."

"figures."

"I don't understand, how are you still in the university and not behind bars?" Johnny asks after taking a long drag on his blunt.

"This is the only way to have food on the table, and I need to graduate. I rather do these than sell my body."

Sadly enough when Johnny checked his phone, no calls or messages from his parents. As cliche as it sounds, he wants his father to check on him but after seeing him in his room bathed in his blood on the ground, his father drifted more away from him.

When he got home that night, his family was having dinner without him, his younger sister, Yerim, ran up to him and hugged him. "Oppa, where have you been? I've been calling you." his sister was the only purest being for him, and he distances himself around her, he doesn't want him to expose her to things that only he knew.

"Yerim, go to your room." the impersonal voice of their father surrounds the dining area and Yerim flinch. looking up to his eyes before walking away.

Kim Ji hoon walks up to him and looks at him with disdain. "Stop being a disgrace, If you can't act like your invisible. I don't need a disgrace in this house." It wasn't new to Johnny anymore.

His father may not be vocal about it in the past but he knew that his father doesn't want him to breathe the same air he does, if God may allow it, he knows that his father wanted him dead, he wanted his father to acknowledged him, and he did everything, that was when Johnny was kissing up to his reputation of being the good son, ace-ing all his grades, being the captain of the football team, doing unnecessary extracurricular activities for extra points, being the good boyfriend, good friend, good son, and a good brother, but it was all too much for him, he felt that he was borrowing someone's life to the point that he doesn't recognize him anymore.

His father hated him so much that he didn't even give him his last name, and the ugly part about it is that Johnny understood his father because he was the reason his mother died. "You can't even do one thing properly, and now everyone living in this town knows about you killing yourself."

"Are you saying that I didn't properly kill myself?" he wanted to vomit. He chuckled as he ran his hands down his locks. "Go fuck yourself," he murmured and walk down to the guest room where he was temporarily sleeping, his step-mother hasn't asked the helpers to clean his room's carpet that is still bathed in his blood, he looked at his wrist that is covered in a bandage, the ugly reminder that he was unhappy and that there is no saving from this anymore. Finding the reason to wake up was hard enough and going to school was another thing, but he did anyway.

People still gossip behind his back, ugly as it sounds, people are disgustingly twisted. He smirked upon hearing he still looked hot as fuck with black hair, one student saying she would gladly do him, blonde or black.

"Jennie must have cheated knowing that he's a freak."

"hey, he might hear you, lower your voice."

"He needs to seek professional help."

"I don't understand him at all. His popular, his ex-girlfriend was fucking hot, he's rich, has great looks, and has a hella hot of a sister." something snapped inside him when he heard some asshole talked disgustingly about his sister.

Before he could even think properly, Johnny repulsively pushed the guy up to the wall. "The hell!" the stranger shouted as the other students stop to stare.

"Did you fucking talked about my sister like that?"

People are staring not because of an aggressive man pushing a full-grown body against the wall like it's nothing. it's not uncommon to see a fistfight for the entire student body to see, people are staring because, Johnny Suh, for once stunned everybody with his demeanor that is completely out of his character. Yes, he is a big guy, but he was kind, sweet, and friendly, so Johnny using force for the first time against someone was a sight to see, added to the fact that this is the first time people heard him cursing, and If eyes could kill already, the guy who talked shit about his sister is practically dead right now, he would brush it off in the past, blindly ignoring gossip about him but this is the first time that someone disrespects his sister right in front of his face and definitely, it is the first time that he gave less fuck about his reputation.

Johnny stared at the man that lacks the urge to answer him, him sending shivers down the stranger's spine. He manhandled the guy and throw him down the floor. "You had the nerve to run that filthy mouth against my sister but doesn't have the balls to answer when I'm confronting you?" he smirked and walked away.

Johnny spent the whole week going to the university but doesn't bother attending his classes, he doesn't want to be left alone at home but doesn't want to go to his classes. He just lost every motivation to do something productive.

Johnny walked his usual path these past few days, going to an empty room on the 4th floor of the Marketing's building to kill time, he gently pushed open the door and saw you changing your clothes. You were almost done, putting your white dress shirt over your shoulder without noticing that you're giving a stranger a free show.

Johnny freezes up, staring and lingering more than usual. He was mesmerized by how your skin glistens under the light slipping through the windows, but what made him stop on his track is the lack of hair you have in your body. It's just smooth skin all over your body.

When you felt someone behind you, you turn your body around to look at the intruder, you saw someone and instantly locked eyes with him. At first, you were scared of seeing Suh Johnny behind you, Johnny got a full view of your unbuttoned shirt and your chest clad in your undergarments. it's not like you saw a ghost, he didn't die per se, but then it has drawn to you, that Johnny, in the flesh, saw you changing clothes. Your reflex acts up and you turn yourself away from him, pulling your clothes to hug yourself, you fix your buttons as you run out to get out of the embarrassment.

The next day, you went to your usual spot in the library to eat your lunch when you saw somebody sitting on your chair. You shrug your shoulders and sit across the stranger who had his head tucked in his arms on the table. You were excited to eat your favorite sandwich because your mother specially made it for you, it was a rare moment given your mother raised you and your sibling alone, having to work two jobs at a time just to put food on the table and to send you to a good school. You appreciate her and love her with all your heart, she was the only one you had next to your older brother, you were good at being invisible, it was your last semester at the university. Trying to finish one subject and your practicum silently like you didn't exist at all. You laughed at the fact that you had no one in this damn hell, but you didn't care.

You started eating your sandwich in silence while opening a good book to read, you were happy in your bubble. Johnny must have heard you as you flip pages after pages. His stomach growling after registering the wonderful smell coming from his surroundings. When he lifts his head, his eyes flicked to your form, silently eating while reading a book, you were so happy in your little bubble, giggling while reading. He straightens his back and you notice the guy across you, putting a face in the stranger who sleeps across you.

A blush crept up on your face when you realize it was Johnny again, you remembered the recent events that happened between the both of you, and your embarrassed ass started coughing hard, you hold your neck rather than reaching for the bottled water in front of you as you choke none stop in front of him. He was left dumbfounded for a couple of seconds but reach for the bottle and unclasp it before handing it to you, you chugged half the contents down your throat and he watched you with fascination.

"Thank you." You said in a small voice.

You put the bottle back in its place as silence hangs in the air, it wasn't a bad kind of silence, but it was awkward. You offer him the other half of your sandwich as you watch him look at you questioningly. "Your hungry." It wasn't a question. You knew he was hungry given you kept hearing his stomach growling a while ago. "You know a little food won't hurt you right?"

Johnny laughs at your ironic statement but accepts your offer anyway, "Don't get your hopes up, I'm not up for a casual relationship." he says as you thought that he wouldn't accept your offer, given that he's rich and can buy a much better lunch than what you're currently having, but then again, you shouldn't judge a book by its cover.

"I was just offering you food."

"Thanks." When he finished your sandwich rather quickly, he went back to sleeping in front of you. He liked hearing the sound of you flipping pages after pages as you read your book silently in front of him and the occasional giggle you let out when read something funny. When he woke up to go home, you were gone, but you left your coat as you hung it around his shoulders to keep him warm.

When he came back the day after, in the library, you didn't come back.

The next morning, Johnny awoke earlier than usual, heading to his car without giving a glance at his family, Yerim saw him and was rather puzzled at the baby pink coat he was holding delicately in his arms. He drove fast to get to the university, walking inside the library to wait for you if ever you were going to be there again.

Lunch came, and your guess was right, you see the same blacked haired boy taking a nap in your usual spot with your coat right beside him. You sat across him again and started minding your business, but this time, you had another bag of sandwiches repaired for him. You weren't ignorant about Johnny's attempt, but you choose to respect his space, you knew that he wasn't mentally stable yet. He might look fine outside and you might not know what goes inside his head, but you knew that he isn't fine. No one's mentally stable, everybody has their hardships in their private lives going on right now, but the important thing is that people shouldn't use it against someone, and as long as they don't step on other people to feel better for themselves then it's good.

You might not understand what he's going through right now, you weren't friends, to begin with, but you feel for him. Sincerely.

Johnny felt peaceful for once after many years, it was an odd feeling, but it wasn't bad. You were browsing your phone, checking your emails and your mother's, clearing and archiving unimportant ones. You look at the time and it was already half past lunchtime. Wednesday is a pain in the ass for you, you have to wait for 5 hours until your next class in the afternoon. You didn't notice Johnny waking from his nap, seeing as you still haven't touched the sandwich bags in front of you, he's guessing you still haven't eaten.

"I'm Johnny."

You look at the man in front of you, his usual strawberry locks are now turned into black, sporting a gray hoodie over his black shirt and matching gray track pants. You study his expression, his not extending his hands for a handshake nor his face valid of any emotion, yet you smile and said "What happened to not being in a casual relationship?"

Johnny was taken back, you give him the sweetest smile you could offer and handed him the extra sandwich you had, "You know, some people would reply with their names." he said as he accepts the food that you offered, you look at him as if contemplating before speaking.

"Y/n"

"I'm not sure, but what department are you from?" he asked after taking a bite of his food. "This is good, by the way. Who made this?"

"What question do you want me to answer first?" you asked laughing. "My mom made it, and I'm from the same department as you, Though, I just transferred to this school after the Holidays,

If he was shocked he didn't show it, Johnny nods his head as if acknowledging you, "I just want time to pass by quickly and silently, that's why no one knows I exist here. I'm just trying to live another day until I graduate." You said making Johnny fall silent.

"Good for you," he replied after a good minute with the both of you munching on your foods. "Was it hard?" he asked.

"What is?"

"You don't seem to have anyone, do you even have friends?" you laughed at his statement because it was the truth. "Yeah, something like that. It wasn't that bad I might have no friends because I choose not to have any relationships with anybody in here."

"That sucks, I'm not going to ask the reason why you transferred in the middle of the semester because that's your business, not mine," he says, you study his face and you weren't sure whether to run your mouth over his business or not, deciding against it you stood up and take your things with you. "Let me show you something."

Walking down the stairs while both of you kept a little distance, you lead him to the visual room, pulling the keys in your backpack and unlocking it. "Why do you have a key to the AVR?" he asks bewildered.

"Perks of being the teacher's pet," you replied as you pulled him inside, turning the computer and projector on, you played a video about constellations and aimed the projector above.

Stars hover above the two of you and you urge him to lay down beside you, looking up and taking a moment of peace to embrace both of you.

"When things get hard and I tend to be alone; let's be honest, no one wants to feel lonely, especially at the hardest times of our lives. But then, you can't force someone to be there with you physically and emotionally and it sucks to have yourself suck it up for being alone. So, I do this, I take my time staring at these constellations. You see, they're really beautiful to me. I find them fascinating, they have this beautiful meaning behind them, it was always fun finding their patterns, connecting them until they're complete, you just have to look closely, in that way, you'll appreciate them more." you smile while pointing above you, he might not look at you but your presence beside him does him wonders, it was so powerful that even if he closes his eyes, he still feels you beside him. The warmth he was feeling coming from you, your steady breathing, and your sweet scent.

You spent your Mondays and Wednesdays with Johnny, eating lunch together, or spending time as you watch different constellations every week.

Friday morning, you made a quick detour to your department before clocking in for your practicum, before leaving the premises a professor asked you for a favor and you agreed to make a copy of the files she was asking for. When you came back from the printing room, you saw a commotion ahead. It wasn't you to pry on other people's business, but your legs must have their mind when you saw a familiar tall build that is clad in a black hoodie.

Johnny Suh stands in the middle with Kim Jongin and Kim Jennie on the other side. He was hyperventilating.

"Just leave, please." Kim Jongin shouted at him, you can see the obvious horror written on everyone's faces. Kim Jennie was stuck beside Jongin as she shed tears silently, disbelief written in Johnny's face.

"Do you know what went wrong? it's because you were never enough." Jennie drops the bomb for everyone to hear, Johnny was livid. If he could crush everything that he could see he would take the chance and do it. If he could take his life again, he wouldn't give a single fuck and he'll gladly do it.

"I can't believe you both. I wasn't the one who cheated with my best friend, why the fuck do you act like it's my fault?" you heard Johnny said and for the first time your heart broke for him.

You found him in your usual spot in the library, his head hanging low and his body shaking as he tries to catch his breath. You drop your coat over his head and give him the bottle of water you were holding, instead of sitting across him, you sat next to him without overstepping and respecting his space to cool down.

When he started to calm down, he handed your coat back to you, stood up, and left the library. Saying you were dumbfounded was an understatement but you choose to understand him.

Days passed by and Johnny was still a no show. When a week has already passed without seeing Johnny, you started to get worried. You wished you asked for his number, but then again, you weren't even that close, to begin with. You decide to spend your long-vacant in the visual room, playing random constellations as you think about a certain boy.

When that certain boy suddenly appeared right in front of you. "I'm sorry." He had his hands inside his grey sweatpants.

"What matters is that you came."

Johnny joined you on the floor, staring up at the ceiling, after a moment of silence, he spoke up. "Why did you help me? why do you even care about me at all? I'm a mess."

"Aren't we friends?" You asked even though it was clear that he turned your offer of friendship down a while ago.

"What you said about the constellations earlier made me realize how I took myself for granted and at the same time how ungrateful I am."

You look at him and give him the chance to speak up. "I didn't have the will to live, do you know that you are annoyingly optimistic about everything?" He jokingly asked, and you laughed with him.

"Is that a compliment or what?"

"I still don't have a reason to be here." He suddenly says. Johnny looks at your face as if reading you, he was prepared to see you pitying him but there was none.

"You don't have to look for it. You have yourself because, at the end of the day, you only got your own back," you turn to him as you give him a look. Johnny envied you, it was obvious, and you can read him like an open book. "Don't, don't look at me like that, Johnny Suh." the way his name rolled down your tongue felt flawless, as if you were born to say his name out loud.

"We all have our shortcomings, I'm not perfect nor are people around me, no one is, and we have to accept that fact, give less care about people who can't accept that."

"It's not as easy as it seems," Johnny says, your hand brushing back the stray hair that falls on his forehead as if your hand has a mind of its own. "Sorry-"

"It's fine. I like it." Both of you turn towards the ceiling as you continue to watch the stars, keeping the comfortable silence and just hang around each other.

For weeks, spending time in the library and the visual room to watch the stars has been your thing with Johnny Suh, you couldn't even imagine being friends with the likes of him, you view him as a constellation star, he's mysterious behind his disguise as he tends to fool everyone with, he was hard to reach and was always up above you, he brightens the surroundings like how the stars brighten the night sky, for you, he was more than the famous campus boy that everybody likes, even if he can't realize that.

Weeks passed by and you look forward to your Mondays and Wednesdays than the fact that you are graduating.

You were busy transferring your books to your backpack as you stand in front of your locker when Johnny came to you. "I didn't know we have the same classes."

You were stunned when you saw him talking to you in the open, students started looking in your way as if seeing a history. The most known guy in the University is with a nobody, but you shrugged it anyway as you closed your locker's door. You bite back at your tongue with all the attention you were getting, anxiety creeping out to you but you choose to ignore it.

"You weren't even attending your classes," you told him as you fix your backpack, the both of you started walking, keeping the same slow pace and taking your time.

"Well, I now have a reason, at least," he says as he grabs the strap of your bag and slings it in his shoulder. You ignore the bubbly feeling inside you and continued walking. Smiling at yourself as you forget about the stares around you.

"You're so cheesy, Suh Johnny." You giggled at him and for the first time, you saw a genuine smile creeping on his face.

When Lunch came, both of you sat outside to enjoy the sunny weather. "I'm going to start my Practicum next week," Johnny told you suddenly, and you stood up so fast to walk around the table to hug him.

"I'm so glad!" the sincere happiness is written on your face that even Johnny laughs with you.

"Thanks to you, I feel like, there's more to it than ending my life at the age of 21," he says and you shake your head at him.

"No, I didn't do anything. It's mostly you. I'm just here beside you to guide you, but it's your own will."

"I'll be honest with you, hurting myself still runs on my head but the difference this time is, I'm scared to do it." you didn't know what to reply to that so you just extend your hands towards his and hold it firmly in your grasp.

The rest of your day went ahead without you noticing, time flies by rather quickly when you are with Johnny. You stood waiting for your bus to arrive when a black Audi stops in front of you. Its windows rolling down and you see Johnny peeking through the window to smile at you.

"You want to wait for your bus or be logical and save time?" you laugh at his way of asking you for a ride but walk towards the passenger to join him in his car otherwise. The car ride was rather chaotic, you were debating about what to put first, milk or cereal, and you felt the horrors when Johnny says he puts milk in first. He was laughing like a child at how horrified you look.

"Anything's fine with me. I put whatever in first," he says after a long minute of arguing.

"I'm telling you, not to live like that!" you argue back. "Cereal comes first and then milk goes in, just imagine, do you pour the soap first before the water? it's water before the soap!" you explained and he laughs at how rilled up you get.

The argument was cut off when you arrived at your house. Johnny parked his car in front of your house and for some reason, your mother came in wearing an apron over her clothes. She raises an eyebrow at the unknown car blocking her driveway and you look at Johnny who looks back at you.

"Your mother is intimidating." He says.

"Want to come over for dinner?" you ask, and It took him a second before responding, " You think that's a good idea?"

"Come on, Mr. Suh, grow some balls, it's just my mom." Johnny looks offended at your statement.

"I have balls that girls flock around with," he retorted. You sigh and open the passenger seat greeting your mom with a smile as you ran to hug her.

"Can my friend stay for dinner?" you asked after hugging her. Johnny is behind you as he introduced himself as your friend and your mother shocked him by giving him a warm hug.

"There's still room for another boy in my house, I believe, it's no problem." Your mother stated as Johnny gives you a confused glance. Your mother invited him in and you welcomed him.

Inside, your older brother, Taeil is strumming his guitar with three other guys in the living room. "Oh, This is my Brother, Taeil." you casually said at him as you hung both of your jackets.

"You didn't tell me you have a brother." He whispered at you, standing awkwardly beside you. Taeil waved at him and you push him to sit beside Jaehyun.

"This is Jaehyun, Doyoung, and Ten. They're all bandmates during high school so they're always here for my brother," you explained. "And your mother's cooking." Ten added.

"Well, now you know," You said as you turn to him. "Let me just go to my room and freshen up real quick, just make yourself feel at home," you say as you back up on your track. "Cool."

Johnny didn't feel out of place for some reason, he was really happy that he got to meet your brother and his bandmates, they were cool to be around. They entertained him and ask what were his hobbies are and for the first time, he took his time to think about what he likes to do. He likes to draw.

When dinner was served, all the boys helped your mother to set up the table, Johnny was persistent in helping even after telling him to sit and wait because he was a guest. You let him help otherwise.

Dinner was well spent, he enjoyed talking with everyone and your mother even asks him to visit anytime he wants. Taeil takes a liking to him, asking him to hang out whenever he's free. Johnny presented to do the dishes and you helped him when he was done his shirt was a total mess because of the water splashing through the faucet, a good thing is that your brother has some clothes that are way oversized for him, and he lets Johnny use them.

You handed him the shirt, accidentally seeing a huge bruise on his chest and stomach, before you knew it, you stop him as he was about to put his shirt on. "What happened?"

His bruises must have slipped his mind and he mentally cursed himself at it. You were horrified. "Johnny, are you getting beat up?"

"I don't want to talk about this," he pulled his shirt down "Y/n, It's getting late. I should head home now. Thank you for dinner, I enjoyed it." and before you know it, Suh Johnny was gone.

Weeks passed by and Johnny was a complete no show. Faint rays of the sun trickled down through your curtains and fell on your room's marbled floor, you look up at your window and were blinded by the light, sitting up, you let your feet hovered on your marbled floors and mentally prepare yourself for the day.

In the office, your instructor asked you to copy some files and you gladly agreed to do it as you don't have much going on for the time being. You thought that it was hard doing your practicum, but all you did at the office was run errands evolving the x-ray machine. Your mind drifted back to Johnny, you'll have to talk to him. Being worried about him is already killing you and the last time you saw him was three weeks ago.

Wednesday came and you sat at your usual spot in the library, studying for the upcoming exams as you patiently wait for the tall black-haired guy. You forced yourself to do some actual studying but for some reason, all you can think about was Suh Johnny who didn't even show up.

The week passed by in a blur and on Thursday you went to your University to take the exam, you were scheduled for the second batch, and instead of your usual schedule of Wednesday, your professor divided your class into two batches.

You weren't even aware that your exams already finished as you were walking to your locker to put away some books.

You understood that Johnny had issues and you hated that you can't do anything to help him. You would do anything for him if that means for the comfort inside him and his peace of mind. You might not know the reason for his depression but everyone has a reason and you know that everybody around you has some issues going on in their private lives. You look around, seeing other students do their thing, minding their own business, some are even bored and waiting for their exams, You saw Jennie and Jongin together looking at you with disgusted faces that you shrugged off.

Johnny saw you as you mindlessly walk your way to the visual room, and he followed behind you silently, as he looks over his ex-girlfriend and ex-best friend. He realized he never really had a connection with Jennie before, they were both just into the sex, and then it gets awkward when they started to talk.

You were already done setting the projector up, walking in the center to lay down when you heard someone entered, and when you saw Johnny at the entrance of the room, his hands on his sweatpants pocket as he gives you a look, you stood up and ran to give him a big hug. You shed tears for him, as you give him a tight hug.

"Why are you crying?" he asked.

"Aren't we friends?" You asked him as you hold him in your arms. "Friends share their pains. So, I'll be here. I just want you to know that I'll be here when you needed someone to be there with you." Johnny fought his tears but who was he kidding? He yearns for someone's affection and not because of who he was but because it was him. And this time, he finally had someone to share his pains with. People already viewed him as someone going on a phase, probably someone rebelling against his parents but Johnny was more than that. He didn't care about it, though. He learned to give less fuck about insignificant people around him.

"My father used to beat me up, Football was just an excuse to cover up these bruises." He admitted. He was disgusted and embarrassed about it. But it was you, and he knows that you're not one to judge someone based off on their appearances.

You shed more tears for him. "Johnny, You don't deserve that, no one deserves that," you say caressing his cheeks. You hated the cheesy statement but you ignore it anyway, what you were feeling at the moment isn't important. Johnny was opening up to you.

The two of you manage to have time off from the university and Practicum. (Johnny started his practicum last, last week, that's why he was MIA most of the time, that time.) Johnny was hanging out at your house, the problem was, your mother and brother are both at work, so you take it to yourself that being alone with him, at your house, is inappropriate. You drag him outside, leading the way to one of your favorite diners.

"I am telling you, you're going to regret that," you said.

"What's wrong with what I ordered?" Johnny did this little thing in his nose, and you take a moment to look at him as you smile at him. You ignore the stares around you, feeling like a sore thumb sticking and obviously, out of place. Johnny scowl at the man who was drunk out of his wits, shamelessly checking you out. This wasn't the first time, this always happened, but not to you though. You told him to ignore it, that man was probably in here to order a cup of coffee.

"Their chicken and waffles here are the best! I'm telling you, I'm not going to share with you."

One pout of his lips towards you and you were switching your plates towards Johnny. You told him, only because this was the first time that he got to try out your favorite dish, and there won't be a second chance in the future. Johnny was kind enough to share a piece of waffle with you. But not the chicken, though. He fell head over heels for it.

Bit by bit, Johnny's walls crumbled down around you, and before you knew it, both of you are inseparable. Johnny dating you spread like wildfire around campus, but there wasn't any truth behind that gossip, you were just a friend. Simple as that.

He was hanging more lately with your brother than you expected. Both of them have the same interest, so it wasn't a surprise when Johnny befriended most of your brother's friends.

Johnny was going on about how Jaehyun's a chill guy, Mark, and Donghyuck introducing him to play games, even Yuta, the University's drug dealer, as they brand him, was included in Taeil's group of friends.

"You didn't tell me that you knew Nakamoto Yuta," Johnny whispered behind you.

"Yeah, For some reason, I didn't want to get involved with most of them. Some girls are crazy about them and I just want peacefulness as I end my college years." You answered. Yuta was from the same department, Jaehyun was from the same university but was taking a different course, as well as Doyounga and Taeyong. Mark and Haechan still need a year before attending college. Ten was studying arts and your brother was a college dropout.

You were having pizza night at your house, your mother was kind enough to accommodate a bunch of men in her tiny house, seemingly impossible to fit 13 men inside, but it did. Instead of the usual party that frat houses and rich kids throw around, Taeil and the others like to keep it to themselves. Sharing one shot glass and downing a cheap rum as everybody waits for their turn. Most of them didn't think that Johnny would be fine with this kind of setup. Besides, he was branded as the campus king and a rich heir at that. He could spend Friday nights at some high-end bar and drink expensive alcohol. But no, instead, here he was, sitting on the cheap carpet your mother owns with a bunch of drunk men but you were glad that your brother is such a nice guy and so are his peers.

Johnny was glad, that he found true people, who accepts him for who he is and not because of who he was.

Doyoung placed you on the empty sofa, you have a low tolerance for alcohol, and you can't keep up with them anymore. The cheapest drink Taeyong bought isn't of cheap quality, you knew better than to judge a bottle chosen by him. You watch them with heavy eyelids, smiling at yourself, Mark and Donghyuck made fun of you by putting thick blankets around you and this was the first time Johnny saw you annoyed by the younger boys.

When Morning came, you were already on your bed as your head pounds. When you came downstairs to leave for school you look around and saw that last night's trace was gone as if 13 grown men didn't make a mess out of your mother's living room.

You wished you had gotten a coffee first when you entered your room way too early and saw that most of the students are yet to arrive, even water would be good, anything liquid down your throat would be good.

You saw Jaehyun and Johnny bidding farewells at the front of the room, students who were present to see the two interacting were shocked, for them, It was rare to see Johnny without his usual crew. But, who are they to decide that for Johnny? It was a rare sight to see, A popular music major and the famous ex-football captain, together?

When Johnny approached his spot beside you, he gives you the cold Iced latte he was holding fresh from Starbucks, completely ignoring unwanted stares behind his back.

"Good Morning," there was a warm aura surrounding him as he settled down beside you, and you look at him in awe. "What?" he asks.

You watched him for a moment, smiling at him as he looks at you questionably. "You're happy," you stated making Johnny pause for a second to think, he was sporting a baby pink hoodie and grey Nike pants, holding his Earpods and Macbook at the other hand. "I think I might be getting there."

Your heart swells up for him and as you fought back the tears that wanted to fall. Johnny reached out to you, wiping the strands of hair that keep falling on your face. "Sorry," you said. People might think that yesterday, Johnny was trying to end his life, and then suddenly, he was okay, because he never was, and you continuously walk on a thin thread around him, Johnny is like a ticking bomb and porcelain that needs to be handled with the utmost care. Five months ago, Johnny doesn't have the motivation to continue living his life, but here he was thriving to know what tomorrow can offer him.

For Johnny, meeting you was his saving grace, problems might fill up in his life, there is this constant reminder that society will always judge him the minute he does something wrong, there is his father, his stepmother who doesn't really pay attention to him, his old life and old self constantly reminding him the pain of the past.

"What happened to your eyes?" there were dark circles under his eyes and for a moment you thought that he has a lot in his mind to think about for the lack of sleep.

"I stayed up till dawn playing overwatch with Donghyuck and Mark last night." He says smiling.

"I'm glad your settling with the boys all right." Johnny watched you, how your long hair flow past your shoulders through your back, he loves the little freckles dancing all over your cheeks naturally and how a touch of pink creeps in your cheeks naturally because of the humid air.

You were really glad. "Do you want to go with me and Ten?" He asks you when your classes ended for the morning, both of you walked to the library to hide from prying and malicious eyes. "He wants to hang out in the nearest coffee shop." he continued and you agreed to go with him, making a turn for the exit.

Johnny ordered an Americano for him and a latte for you, eating the packed lunch your mother made for you and Johnny as you wait for Ten.

Ten arrived with Jaehyun in tow, placing their bags down Jaehyun took the seat beside you while Ten walked to the counter to order their drinks. Johnny looked at you and Jaehyun but ignore the malice running in his head.

"Kim Yerim!" the three of you looked at the entrance to see Johnny's sister entering the cafe, Yerim waved at someone across their table and saw his sister's friend Park Sooyoung waving frantically. Johnny turned to look at you and Jaehyun ignoring his sister who started walking inside, "What happened to you?" he asks Jaehyun,

"Why?"

"You're turning really red." Johnny pointed out and you snickered at Jaehyun who turns to look at Johnny's sister absentmindedly. "Man, That's my sister!" Johnny whispered-shout at him as he fought the urge to laugh at Jaehyun. Someone definitely has a crush on his little sister.

You and Johnny eyed each other, laughing as you both understood telepathically. "What's so funny?" Ten asks when he arrived and the both of you laughed loudly this time.

"Hyung!" Jaehyun shouted at him his ears turning red.

When Johnny got home, he locked himself up in his room that his step-mother finally asked to clean. He was busy waiting for Donghyuck and Mark to play when he heard a knock on his door.

"Can I come in?" His step-mother asked. Yerim's mother is a great person, but that doesn't really mean that she's a good mother to both him and Yerim, he can't really judge her though, she's still young and living her dreams but then his father got her pregnant with Yerim and then here she is stuck at this hell of a household, all three of them under the strings of his father.

"Yes." He says.

Kim Ah-Jong walked inside, placing a warm cup of milk beside him for the first time, "Johnny," She started as he settled at the edge of Johnny's bed facing him. Johnny turns his chair to face her too, holding the warm mug in his hand to seek comfort in this awkward setting.

"I don't know how to start, but I just wanted to say that I'm really sorry," she paused for a second, ignoring the lump in her throat, "I hope you forgive me for replacing your mother's position, and that I'm really grateful because you love your sister more than anything even though you didn't have the same mother."

"It's the least that I could do." He says.

"Yes, I know, and I'm sorry if I failed you as a mother, I was busy finding myself to the point you and Yerim grow up without the right amount of affection from us. We're such horrible parents and I wanted to say sorry on behalf of your father. You don't deserve this, no one else did."

That night, Johnny slept soundly in his own home for the first time in a while.

Yerim was shocked to see her mom attending to his brother, it's as if she suddenly had a change of heart and finally started to be a mother to his brother. Her father was another problem, he still hasn't moved on from his son's attempt. Spitting atrocious words early in the morning making Johnny regret even joining the breakfast.

Kim Ah-jong had enough of his husband's wrath, it was still morning and his husband is starting to get on her nerves. She stabs her bread knife on their table as she turns her head towards him, "Is still early in the morning for the love of God, Kim Ji Hoon. Must you really ruin our morning?" she says.

Both Yerim and Johnny were stunned at her, their father shutting up in instant at the fear her wife would stab her.

Johnny and Yerim drive to the University that day together, "Oh, do you mind if we stop by at my friend's house? I promise to pick him up." Johnny asks and Yerim nodded.

Johnny smirked, he was excited to see Jaehyun's reaction.

Johnny pulled up in front of Jaehyun's apartment, sending him a message the was up in front of his building, after a minute, Jaehyun emerges from the entrance of the building running to get to his car with a tumbler in his other hand.

Johnny pulled the window down and Jaehyun saw Yerim first, he stopped midway, flustered that a girl was with his young, and It was no other than his sister. he played it cool and sat at the back.

"Oh, Yerim-ah, this is Jaehyun. He's my friend."

Jaehyun didn't expect her to turn around and bow her head down. "Thank you so much for taking good care of my brother."

Johnny became flustered with Yerim but laughed it off instead. Jaehyun bowed his head towards her saying it was nothing. Yerim was unaware of the looks she was getting from the older boy sitting at the back seat of his brother's car as Johnny keeps throwing playful glances at the back while he drove them to the school.

Graduation was already nearing, both you and Johnny were already finished with your practicum, Johnny was moving boxes towards his car, for some reason, his father allowed him to have his own flat, his step-mother saying that it would be the best for him and his mental health to have some space between them and that they should give him some time and space. His father was adamant at first but has nothing to do in the end.

"Just let him do what he wants, He's already graduating, with honors! He already did everything you wanted it's the least you could do for him." he heard his step-mother argue a while ago with his father. Johnny still had to go home every Sunday at the main house, though.

You and Taeil volunteered to help him with his moving and he was glad, to say the least. Yerim contacted you to do his groceries for him and the two of you left the older boys as you went to the market with Yerim.

Yerim was a cool young woman, she was matured for her own age, you learned that she was very frank at what she wants and that she loves her brother so much.

"I'm really glad my brother meet you," she says as she links her right arms with you, you were both walking to the parking lot, and you smiled at her blushing.

"Honestly, I never really liked his old friends. Jongin? Nope. Chanyeol? He's an asshole. Everyone in that damn team is an ass except for Sehun," she says as both of you entered the market, pulling a big cart in the process, and continued walking ahead. "You and your brother are surrounded by good people. Do you know that? And I'm kind of jealous of you, not that I don't have good friends, I do."

"Well, consider me someone you can be with so those good people will surround you too," you said smiling, Yerim giggled at you.

It took Johnny a week before really settling down in his apartment, he invited the guys over to have a small welcoming party, drinking and playing till the sun rises.

Johnny was busy typing at his laptop as you were both doing your last requirement for college, papers, and documents were all scattered around his living room when he turns his head to look at you. "Are you comfortable with those jeans?" He asks.

You look at your pants, it is uncomfortable.

"I don't have extra clothes," Johnny poked at his cheeks with his tongue, he stood up and went inside his room, when he came back he was holding clean boxer shorts. "You can use this if you want," he says as he extends his arms to you. You gladly took it and went to his bathroom to change.

Johnny thinks this was more dangerous than when he had blood oozing out of his wrist, you had your toned legs on display for him, and only him. It wasn't helping at all. Without knowing, he stared at your legs for a good minute, the urge of having his hands run along the lines of your thighs was becoming unbearable. He was amazed by the lack of hair you had around your arms and legs, was it liked that too with the parts your clothes have covered? He can't help the wild imaginations running around his head with the things he wants to do to you.

Johnny focused his attention back on the screen of his laptop. What the fuck is he even thinking? It's you, his fucking angel. How dare he have dirty thoughts about you. He mentally slaps himself and went back to typing.

You noticed Johnny having a mental crisis because of you and you silently laugh at him, extending your legs further to have your skin touch his thighs.

after hours of being productive with your work, You and Johnny decided to call it a night.

After a week of preparations for the upcoming finals, you and Johnny decided to meet up, the waiter placed both of your orders in front of you and Johnny, who give the waiter a small smile while uttering a quick "Thank you." You eyed Jhonny's food who looks somewhat more delicious than your Pesto Pasta. You don't even know why you ordered it, you never even tasted it before, you just want to— maybe, impress the guy in front of your table who were giving you obvious looks about the taste pallet you had which is definitely of a 13 Years old.

Johnny gives you a look while shaking his head, knowing all too well that you wanted a bite of it. Looking at you who's eyeing his barbeque bacon burger with fries on the side— It's usually what the two of you order and he was shocked that you ordered something out of the ordinary. He knew that you weren't the type of girl to go out of your comfort zone. You like what you usually eat, what you usually drink, and what type of clothing you usually wear. You are a very simple, young woman. You don't usually try things out of the blue, especially, when the two of you are both hungry.

Instantly, Johnny switched both plates. Giving you his food whilst saying a silent goodbye to the famous BBQ burger that he craves so much after winning a football game, which, he deserves. "What are you doing?" you asked shocked. You already saw him digging in and wincing at the taste. "Why the fuck would you even order this thing?" he asked.

You looked at the guy at the other table. You both were giving silent glances, he's good-looking and obviously from another school but you don't do other schools, that is the thing, you'd rather date someone from the same school, same department or same village. You don't like the hassle. People can go ahead and say your such a basic bitch, which in fact, you are. You finally give your full attention to Johnny who looks at his back to find some guy obviously ogling your face. That was the scariest thing in the world for him, guys ogling your face rather than your body, honestly, it was obvious from guys falling for your body— they just want to get in your pants, but guys who fall for your beauty is different.

You start digging in with your food. "This is the reason why I love you so much." You stated giving your burger a bite.

"Why would you even want to eat this." He says. You give him a chuckle as you extend your right arm towards him, offering him a bite of your burger, which he gladly took. "I'm sorry, I'm such a pain in the ass." You said.

"I kidnapped you in your after party and I'm so sorry, I didn't know Jennie's going to be there, and now you're eating something you don't even like. Man, you don't deserve this." You continued. Sincerely saying sorry towards him— picking a fry and dipping it on the ketchup provided at the side of your plate.

For some reason, Things work out for him and the team, It was going to be his last year playing, and the higher-ups decided for him to lead the team again, making Jongin lose face around the campus. It wasn't like before, It was expected, Johnny was just professional around them, leading them at the court and out of sight, after.

"What? No way. This is what I deserve. A peaceful dinner and finally having time with you." He says after biting at the toasted bread the pasta has. It was true though, Johnny was talking with Jennie again, well, but not exactly dating her, as students would say around campus. They dated, but that was that, he can't even imagine being good friends with someone who cheated on him, he was just being civil with her, ending things with a good note and leaving the better past behind him, and you haven't really had the chance to hang out together since their coach intensified their training hours and days, and right after that Johnny would hang out with your brother and the other guys.

"What did my brother say, though? with you being with me tonight? You guys are basically dating each other by now," you joked.

"Yeah, he's cool with it. Don't worry, I told him about our meeting before you actually kidnapped me." He gives you a smirk and you give him a confused look. "I was actually going to ask you for a dinner with me after the game." You rolled your eyes at him.

"Wow." You commented. You were practically like a twin at this rate. "Can I ask you something, though?" Johnny didn't know whether to ask because he was curious or just wait for you to open up to him, for some reason, Johnny felt naked around you. You knew everything about him, you have him wrapped around your pretty little fingers "What if I don't want to?" You countered and he scoffed.

"What was the reason you transferred? you only had a year to finish before graduating," Your face fell and he instantly saw how your face contorted into a frown. "Why are you making that face?" he asked.

"I had a bad break up to the point that I was destroying myself." You finally said like it was nothing. Johnny stopped everything that he's doing, giving you a look as if asking why. He felt like an idiot. How can he? at your worst time? "I'm such a horrible friend." He says.

"It's not your fault, and I'm even sorry that I didn't tell you sooner." You said quietly. Suddenly your favorite dish from the dinner doesn't look appealing anymore. "And I wanted time for myself, you know, he cheated on me."

the clicking of utensils can be heard throughout the diner when he dropped them to the table. He was fuming mad.

"It wasn't anyone's fault, though. if anything. It was mine. I lost interest in our relationship, didn't have time for him, and just lost everything along the way." You said while moving your plate towards him which he gladly took, abandoning the pasta you ordered and eating the half of the burger you had. But the real reason was, you can't stop comparing your ex-boyfriend to him.

"Still isn't a reason to cheat on you." He says after taking a bite. You move your lemonade in front of you and lazily sip on it. He drops the topic knowing all too well that you don't want to talk about it. Still, he felt guilty for some reason, What could go wrong?

Right, Johnny Suh is starting to have feelings for you, and definitely not in a platonic way.

And you don't have any idea about it.

He opened your bag that was beside him and fetch the wet wipes that were inside. He opened it and out of habit cleaned your fingers with it. And you let him, smiling. "I wished I meet you sooner," He looked at you and smiled. "I'm really sorry I haven't been with you for the last 21 years." you joked as you let him dry your fingers with a dry napkin that the diner provides.

You were about to head out— fetching the car keys that you placed on the bowl beside the main door when you hear a familiar honk outside your house. Your hands slip past your keys and you walk the small distance to your door, opening it the cold air of December heats your face and Johnny greeted you with his usual beam on his face, his left hand stretched up outside his window, giving you a wave.

You smiled to yourself, biding your mom a quick goodbye and you were off to school with your best friend.

"Good Morning." He greeted you when you opened the door of his black Audi.

"Good Morning, indeed." You said facing him after securing yourself with the seat belt. There was a tint of pink in Johnny's checks that you choose to ignore.

Pulling up at the parking lot in front of the university's main building where a lot of students lingered chatting with their circle of friends— Johnny smoothly maneuvered and parked at his usual spot.

You both get out of his car and started to walk to the building.

"See you at lunch?" he asked when you neared your classroom— you were slightly shocked. "Won't you be eating with Yerim today?" you asked as you stopped in your tracks facing him. "Doesn't have to." He simply replied and you nod your head. "She'll be mad, John." You said as a matter of fact— facing him while slowly backing away as he marly give you a shrug. "She doesn't have the right, though." you rolled your eyes at him "Just ask her to eat with us!"

Graduation was nearing and you've been offered a job at one of the top companies in the city, you didn't have the reason to turn them down so you accept and were set to sign the contract right after having your diploma.

This calls for a celebration, though.

When Johnny heard that he was the first one to know about something significant in his life, he was delighted.

You found yourself getting tipsy with the cheap booze in front of you and Johnny. You were laughing at something he said about his sister, holding the cheap beer in your hand as you chug the contents down your through. "Okay, That's enough," Johnny said whilst grabbing the cans of beer and putting them back at his refrigerator. You pout back at him but don't argue, you still have to attend your classes tomorrow morning and you don't want to miss anything for the last weeks you have for being a college student.

Johnny tucked you in his bed and you bid the sweetest goodnight on him, he leaves a sweet kiss on your forehead before heading for the couch in the living room to sleep on, since he had no energy to actually drive you home.

You woke up that night, feeling rather hot, unconsciously stripping out of your pants and bra out of habit, you walked to the kitchen for some water.

Walking with blurred vision, you find your way into the kitchen. The lights were dim as you passed by the living room completely ignoring the fact that Johnny could definitely walk on you wearing only your white tee and undies.

You helped yourself around the kitchen, rummaging in the refrigerator for a jar of water, your hands felt the cold lid of the jar, popping it open and chugging the contents down. You giggled after realizing that you should probably use glass and act like a lady for once since you're not in your own place.

You hissed as you struggle, reaching for a glass in the cupboard. "Just why is it placed so fucking high?" you asked yourself. A hand reached for the glass and you turned around, shocked and ready to pounce the person behind you.

you came face to face with Johnny. His face, only inches away from you. His hands find their way to your waist as he looked at you and the glass in his hands, he purred his self some water in the glass and chugged the whole content down.

"I got thirsty," he said. You moved beside so you don't disturb him, stepping at least five steps away.

He looked you up and down, the smell of booze around, is strong, it almost made you gag. Feeling the cold air between your legs, you looked at yourself. "Fuck." realizing that you were only wearing your white t-shirt; that you probably owned since 7th grade— Your breast was obvious that even your nipples were prominent, your shirt just hanging before your hip bone and then your undies.

You mentally slap yourself. He put the glass down and you put your hair in front to at least cover your hardening nipples away from him. Chills run down your spine as he took another step forward, clearing the distance between you.

"Hey-" he cut you off.

"Johnny," he says.

"What?" you asked, barely whispering. Your eyes moved down on their own, from his eyes down to his upper body, he was shirtless, giving you free access to his perfectly sculpted body, his pelvis, so sharp even a God couldn't compare. Again, you felt the burning sensation coming back in your throat. You touched your neck instantly as you tried to swallow.

"My name, say it," he whispered, you looked up only to be met by his eyes, dark with unknown lust as if burning you within. He keeps staring at you, keeping you captive with his eyes that you somehow felt naked.

"Johnny," you whispered trying not to sound like your practically moaning his name. He took a step forward, leaving no space between you and him. "Again." He commands you. You sucked a deep breath as you avoid eye contact.

"Johnny."

He used his index finger to lift your head as his thumb drew circles just below your chin to the base of your neck. blood rushed to your face as you suddenly felt hot on your cheeks as he put his hands on your waist again. He tilts his head, the smell of alcohol mixed with his aftershave and mint filled your senses, suddenly it wasn't too dark anymore.

He brushes his lower lip against yours that you barely felt it. He licked his lower lip as you bite yours. He stares intently at you. "You know, I would appreciate it if you don't walk around the house in these." his hands hot on your skin.

all rationality seems to fly out of the window, both of you staring at each other gazes, Johnny pulling you in for a much deeper kiss. "Didn't know you were this naughty with alcohol in your system," he murmured, Johnny's soft languid kisses were driving you wild, he moves at the base of your neck and sucked at the soft skin before pressing light kisses.

"Do you have any idea how much I want you?" he says softly, your breath hitches without knowing and you deliciously clenched around nothing upon hearing his statement, you were hypnotized by his eyes. Leaning down, he kisses you again.

You put your hands around his chest to push him slightly, gazing up toward him, "I want this," you whispered. "No. Not in the morning when you're sober enough to regret this," Johnny says, you ignore him and pulled him down to kiss him again, and Johnny lost all his logic with how delicious you tasted, you guide his hands on the hem of your shirt and slowly he peels it off for you and lets it fall down the floor.

Johnny put his arms around you and hauls you against his body, squeezing you tightly, his hands traveled down your waist and down to your behind, he holds you against his hips, and you feel his erection, which he gladly pushes into you, easily lifting you from the floor after, you moan once more in his mouth, He eases you towards the bed and you feel your back against the soft cushion once more.

Tentatively, you move your hands up to his face and his hair, tugging at it lightly as if implying for him to take you fully. But Johnny has other plans in his mind. He grabs your hips with both his hands and runs his tongue around your navel, gently nipping his way to your hipbone and across your belly to the other.  "Ah," You groan.

Seeing him on top of you, between your legs as you feel his hot breath against your skin, Is unexpected, but you wanted this as much as he wants it. Your hand on his hair, pulling gently as you try to quiet your loud breathing. He gazes up at you through impossibly long-lashed, and chocolate-colored eyes. His hand reaches the hem of your black underwear, leisurely pulling it down without taking his eyes off you, he stops and licks his lips, never breaking eye contact. Johnny leans forward, running his nose up the apex between your thighs, and you feel him.

"You smell so fucking good," he murmurs and closes his eyes. a look of pure pleasure on his face and you practically convulse.

You raise yourself on your elbows to see what he's doing, you were panting, you wanted him right there. shit

Moaning, you felt him run his tongue on the sleek of your heat, "Keep still," he murmurs and then leans down again to kiss down your clit. "How can I not move? you're making me feel this good." you felt him smirk against your skin. "Then, we'll have to work on keeping you still." there was a dangerous tone laced in his voice and you find it impossibly hot and twisted. You're flushed, skin burning, too hot, too cold, and you're craving more as you clawed at the sheets beneath you.

Johnny moves forward and you protested but the pleasure came back once more when he blows very gently on one of yours mound, his hands moving to the other breast, and his thumb slowly rolls the end of your nipple, elongating it. You moan, feeling the sweet sensation all the way to your groin.

"Johnny," you were wet, "Please," you beg silently as your fingers clasp the sheet tighter. His lips close around your nipple and he tugs, making you convulse. He doesn't stop.

Johnny moves his fingers around your clit, drawing circles as he laps on your mound,  you let yourself go from his touch. His thumb and finger continue doing you deliciously and you fall apart on his hands.

"Oh," you won't lie, that felt extraordinary, and now, you know the fuss around him is about. He gazes down at you, a satisfied smirk on his face and you're still in owe from your high.

Johnny was amazed at how responsive you are, he laced his fingers around you, drawing slow and lazy circles around your clit again, bringing another set of heat in your core. He closes his eyes briefly, his breathing hitches. You're deliciously wet and Johnny doesn't want to fuck you with a condom on, and neither did you.

He reaches over the bedside table, anyway, grabbing a foil packet, and then moving out of the bed to discard the rest of his clothes. You saw him, and your mouth watered at how long and thick he is. He kneels on the bed and pulls the condom onto his length. "I really don't want to use one."

"Is that going to fit in?"

"Don't worry," He breathes,  "You're wet enough, Angel. I know you can make me well," He murmurs as he positions the head of his erection at the entrance of your sex and pushing hard.

"Aargh!" You cry as you felt him sliding in, there was a weird sensation pinching deep inside you as he rips through you without warning. Johnny stills, his eyes bright with ecstatic triumph. His mouth opened slightly, his breathing harsh. He groans wanting to move.

"Fuck, baby, so tight."

"Johnny, Wait."

He stills for a moment, "Why?" You held onto his forearms, fucking him with a condom doesn't feel right, you wanted every little part of him, you wanted to feel him. Raw. "I- Can we remove the condom?" Johnny asks as if reading your mind.

You nod at him, You felt him slide out of you, removing the condom and throwing it at the trash bin beside his bed. Johnny positions his self once more, easing on to you, groaning. He loved every bit of it, this was the first time that you had sex without using protection, and the same thing goes for Johnny. Moving your hips up to him, as a sign that you wanted him to move already. He groans. You felt so full, as he let you acclimatize at the overwhelming feeling of him inside you. Naked, and Raw.

He eases back with exquisite slowness. Closing his eyes, Johnny controlled himself not on to fuck you hard, He thrust into you again, and you cry out in pleasure. He shifts into his elbow, and you feel his weight on you, holding you down. He moves painfully slow at first, easing himself in and out of you. You grew impatient and you can't help but move your hips up tentatively to meet his. He speeds up. Pounding on you, picking up speed by the second, merciless and in a relentless rhythm.

you can't help yourself to meet his thrust, making Johnny lose his mind because of you. Your body quivers. a sheen of sweat gathers over you. Your thoughts are scattered. There's only the feeling of him, of you, and him, and you stiffen.

"Come for me, baby," he whispers breathlessly, and you unravel at his words, exploding around him as you climax and shard into pieces with every being you had underneath him. And as he comes inside you, calling your name, thrusting hard, the stalling as he empties himself into you.

Johnny's breathing was ragged as you try to slow your breathing, your heart thumping hard and your thoughts in a disarray, you opened your eyes. His eyes flickered open and gaze down at you, dark but soft. He's still inside you, leaning down, he gently presses a kiss against your forehead then slowly pulls out of you.

Johnny cleaned you up and spoon you to sleep, he hoped that in the morning you won't regret what happened. Because he loved every moment of it.

--

Part 2? I didn't put the taglist because this is already reposted. so, yeah, hope u guys enjoyed! let me know what you think, I feel like i sucked making this.

[kj-1130]

Nothing For Me

Part 5

(gifs not mine)

Main Masterlist

Part 4|Part 6

It was a strange sense of deja vu; except this time you weren’t staring at the glow in the dark stars that still lingered across the ceiling, you were staring at the back of your eyelids. Your thoughts still played loud in your head. They were like a playlist that was on repeat and you couldn’t press the pause button.

It was noisy but empty, if that made sense. A strange, but not unusual feeling to you.

The demons crawled into your head, made it their home and decorated it. And you just couldn’t find the strength to kick them out.

The back of your eyelids became something you had grown accustomed to staring at. If you weren’t awake and suffering at the will of your own mind, you were sleeping--hoping that your thoughts would turn off then.

You couldn’t see the light from the tv, but you could hear it. The ‘f.r.i.e.n.d.s.’ theme song was quite an interesting mix with the yells of ‘no one cares,’ ‘you’re invisible,’ or ‘just disappear.’

But you couldn’t sleep because the music was so damn loud. Apparently, the avengers retrieved the scepter and were celebrating. You were invited to attend by Natasha, but you didn’t have the willpower; to talk to perverted business men all night or to get out of bed--either one.

So you tried to ignore the sound of faint chatter and clinking glasses. Or maybe you would listen to it; it was undoubtedly better than whatever was going on inside your noggin.

Time passed. You didn’t know what time it was. Time is an illusion anyway.

The days were all just one big blob of nothingness to you at this point. Everyday, you felt the same, did the same thing, thought the same thoughts. So what’s the point of trying to tell whether the darkness you saw was from outside or from the back of your eyelids.

The back of your eyelids. What a strange sense of deja vu…

-

Stars reminded you of Michelle. The two of you always watched the stars together. It was your thing.

You’d never thought you’d have a thing with anyone. You were glad you had one with MJ.

You opened your eyes. The stars that were stuck to the ceilings seemed like they grew dimmer over the years--just like your eyes.

It was significantly quieter than it was before. You guessed everyone had homes to return to. What was a home?

Your mom was your home. But she’s gone now.

Maybe Michelle could become your home. Yeah. She keeps you warm and you do the same for her. Maybe she could be your home.

-

Pounding footsteps were heard throughout the hall. As tired as you were, your curiosity won out. You slowly sat up despite your body’s protest and made your way towards the door. Yeah, if you were in a horror movie, you definitely would’ve been dead by now.

Just as you were about to reach out for the handle, the door flung open causing you to jump back. Looking up, your eyes connected with red ones.

“You’ll do just fine, little Stark.”

-

The two former agents sped down the long halls of the tower. They reached the door and saw splinters all over the ground.

Natasha slowly walked in on high alert. She and Clint searched around the room; the bathroom, closet, anywhere where someone could hide.

The redhead faced her friend with a forlorn look on her face. Her head shook slowly.

“She’s gone.”

-

You were in your room--your old room. There was music playing downstairs; Whitney Houston. An artist your mom would listen to during her free time.

“Mom?”

You ran down the steps into the kitchen and stood at the entryway. She stood with her back to you. Her fro was pulled into a messy puff and she was wearing her robe; the same robe you would wear as a cape.

It smelled like french toast. You always ate french toast together on the second Saturday of the month. It was tradition.

“Mom?”

Her head lifted and she turned to face you. Instead of her glowing and blemish free skin and that beautiful, gentle smile, all you saw was a decaying body. The jaw was hanging by one side. It was as if tissue or muscle was stuck to her face and just gradually melting off.

“Hi sweetheart.”

You gasped and backed into the well causing one of the paintings to fall.

Your mom chuckled and when you looked back, her face was normal.

“You’re always so clumsy.”

Your breathing was still labored. You watched as the woman you knew as a mother picked up the piece of art. It was the one she got from her mother--your grandmother.

“You okay? You’re looking a little flustered.”

She strode towards you and rested a hand on your cheek and then your forehead.

You resisted the urge to flinch as her cold skin made contact with yours.

“C’mon. Let’s eat.”

Your body was on autopilot as you followed her to the counter. She passed you a plate and took a seat next to you.

“Useless,” was whispered and disappeared into the wind.

You looked behind you with furrowed eyebrows and a frown.

“You okay?”

You glanced at your mom before nodding.

“Yeah. Thought I heard something.”

“I’m glad I died.”

You whipped your head towards her and found the mummified version looking at you once again.

You stood and set your fork down before running up the stairs. You entered the bathroom and locked the door before sliding down the far wall.

The door was thrown open before her figure flew over to you.

-

Your eyes shot open and you sat up with a gasp.

Everything hurt. It all hurt.

Frantically, you pushed yourself to the corner of whatever room you were in regardless of what the throb of your head was telling you.

The rocks began crunching as if someone was walking on them. Your head whipped around in every direction trying to figure out where the noise was coming from.

“Your father took everything from us.”

“Yeah. Well he’s a taker not a giver.”

Your mom always told you your mouth would get you in trouble. You just hoped she wasn’t right at this moment.

Looking up, you were met with two pairs of eyes; one a woman the other a man.

They both seemed significantly older than you. The woman walked closer and bent down in front of you and her eyes started glowing red. You began hyperventilating, praying she wouldn’t harm you.

She lifted her hand to your temple and rested her fingers there.

“It’s time we get our revenge.”

All you saw was a decaying body. The jaw was hanging by one side. It was as if tissue or muscle was stuck to her face and just gradually melting off.

“Hi sweetheart.”

-

Your head was pounding and your neck was killing you. Groaning, you craned your neck and searched your surroundings.

Hands touched your shoulders gently. But it didn’t matter how gentle it was because you didn’t want anyone touching you with their hands that could kill you with the right movements.

You swatted them away from you--with your own hands that didn’t stand a chance against a lot of people.

“Woah, hey, hey, hey. Kid, calm down.”

Rubbing your eyes, you looked around as your vision cleared. In front of you stood Clint. His face was decayed; just like your mom’s.

You scrambled back and curled up in the corner of the corner closest to you.

“Hey. You’re safe. You’re okay,” he said gently.

Your gaze transferred from one area of the jet to another frantically. You wanted something to stand out at you; make it’s obnoxiousness force the visual of it in your brain. Anything would be better than seeing her face like that.

You didn’t even notice the archer moving closer to you until he rested his hand on your shoulder. You flinched hard and gently pushed it off of you.

Clint nodded in understanding and continued to kneel in front of you.

“We’re about 15 minutes from a safe house, alright? You can eat something and then rest there. That okay?”

Nodding your head, you leaned back against the wall and took a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart.

The most powerful thing you knew of was Cap’s shield. Seems like that witch was taking that spot.

-

True to Clint’s word, the jet landed less than 15 minutes later. You were the last out although Steve did end up waiting for you. His hand landed on your shoulder and when you turned to look at it, all you saw was bones and tissue. You stumbled back and hit your back on the quinjet.

The supersoldier looked at you with worried eyes before slowly walking away.

You watched the backs of the superheroes get smaller as they walked towards the porch of the safe house.

Is that what they were? Heroes? Everyone always described them as these indestructible beings that would always be there to help civilians and save the day. But who was going to save them?

They didn’t look so indestructible. They just looked like a group of people with the weight of the world--no universe on their shoulders.

Watching everyone enter the house, you decided to follow a moment later. Cap, ever the gentleman he was, held the door open for you and let it shut once you slipped inside.

“I know all your names,” the woman who stood next to the archer said. She scanned the group before her eyes landed on you, her head tilting slightly.

You tuned out the rest of the conversation as you looked around the house--no home. It looked like a home. Not some model house that some cookie cutter family lives in. A home where parents were raising their children to be themselves and nurturing them with love and care.

The room wasn’t spotless. There were legos and toys on the floor. It didn’t smell like cleaning supplies. It smelt like a homemade meal; one that would make any stress from the day just melt away.

A hand tugged on the sleeve of your shirt causing you to glance down. It looked just like the other ones; just a decaying, withering hand.

You flinched in response and quietly stepped away, not wanting to cause a scene. Rubbing your eyes, you looked down and saw a little girl that didn’t even seem the slightest bit fazed by your little episode.

“Can you play dollies with me?”

“Actually,” Clint cut in. “She needs to rest. (Y/n) can play after a nap, alright?”

The little girl nodded and went to minding her business.

The archer placed a gentle hand on your back and you tensed under his touch. You heard him whisper to his wife before the two led you up stairs.

“You good to clean yourself up?”

You grabbed the towel and extra clothes out of his hands and sat them down on the bathroom counter.

“I’m fine, Clint,” you muttered while pushing him out of the room.

-

You sat in the bed of the spare room that Clint’s wife, who you learned was Laura, said that you could stay in.

A knock reverberated through the room, the sound of the door opening following suit.

You felt a dip in the bed, but you refused to look up from the spot on the covers.

You didn’t want to see a decaying face.

You didn’t want to see someone dead.

You didn’t want that image stuck in your brain like a starred picture on google photos. You didn’t want to give your mind a chance to somehow twist it all around--inside, over and out--and convince you that it was all your fault.

You just wanted to have a few seconds of peace instead of the roaring tides that were washing through your head, even if it was false.

“What did she make you see?”

You swiped your tongue over your dry lips and shook your head.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

There was a moment of silence and continued to mess with the unraveling thread in the blanket.

“Look at me then.”

You hesitated, but eventually lifted your head.

“I said look at me, not at the wall. Look at me.”

Taking a deep breath your lip began to tremble.

“Please.”

“Don’t make me do it,” you whispered.

A hand was turning you towards her before you could even stop it, but you managed to close your eyes.

“Whatever she showed you is not real. I’m here and I always will be.”

You only saw her ivory skin and forest green eyes. There were no visible bones or muscles. Just her red hair and sad smile.

Your eyes fitted around her face, making sure that it wasn’t a cruel trick your mind was trying to play on you.

Natasha lovingly patted your cheek and pressed a light kiss to your forehead.

“Let’s get some rest, alright?”

-

You couldn’t rest, long story short.

It was so noisy up there and you just couldn’t get it to calm down.

Every time you closed your eyes, somebody’s dead body was infiltrating your mind. Whether it was Clint or his kids, Natasha or MJ.

MJ. Oh shit.

You threw the covers off your body and slowly lifted yourself from the bed. Making your way downstairs, you heard some chatter coming from near the kitchen.

“I thought you were dead.”

A hand immediately flew up to your mouth as if that would stop the words that already came out of your mouth. Muttering a ‘my bad’ you walked up towards the group of adults while simultaneously scanning your surroundings.

“I am,” replied Fury.

Clearing your throat you took in a deep breath. But before you could speak, somebody beat you to it.

“What are you doing here, kid?”

You rolled your eyes and prepared to talk.

“Does anyone have a phone I can borrow?”

Practically everyone raised their eyebrows at you in confusion. You let out a sigh and started wringing your hands

“I-I need to call MJ. Please.”

When it was clear that desperation was shining through your eyes, Laura was quick to get up.

“Sure, honey.”

Everyone else was left confused.

“Who the hell is MJ?”

Laura gave you a phone and told you, you could call from the couch.

You were swift to dial her phone number and bring the device to your ear. You bit your lip, waiting for your friend to pick up which she did after the fourth ring.

“Who is this?”

While you were grateful the phone was picked up, it wasn’t who you wanted to answer.

“I-it’s (y/n). I-i-i’m just calling from a d-different number. I-Is M-MJ home?”

You knew all the adults were staring at you and as much as it made your skin itch and crawl, you didn’t care about it as much as you cared about talking to MJ.

There was shuffling on the other side so you could only assume that her mother was traveling around their apartment.

“Thank goodness. I thought you died or something,” she chuckled.

A smile rose to your face before you could even think about it.

“I mean, close but no.”

“I-You know what? I’m not even gonna ask.”

“It’ll probably be on the news by the end of this week anyway.”

You had finally relaxed into the couch and pulled your knees to your chest. You could still feel them staring holes in your skull and it was making you feel like you were exposed and vulnerable.

It was silent for a moment before you heard let out a sigh MJ let out a sigh.

“Are you okay?”

“I-I don’t know.”

“Do you wanna come over and talk about it?”

You let out a hum before answering, “I can’t”

“Why? A-are you hurt? If so, I can come over there and-”

“No. I literally cannot-”

“It’s not a big deal. I can-”

“I’m in another state.” There was a pause on the other side of the call. “Or country. I-I don’t know where I am.”

You heard the girl clear her throat before taking a deep breath, obviously processing what you just told her.

“So that’s what you meant when you said-”

“Yeah…”

You clicked your tongue a couple of times, wondering what was going through Michelle’s head at the moment as the silence lingered.

“I guess you’re not in Kansas anymore.”

You let out a small chuckle, something you only seemed to do in MJ’s presence.

“No longer in Kansas.”

The conversation could no longer continue as you heard your friend’s mom yell for her.

“Well, I gotta go.”

“Yeah, I guess I’ll talk to you later.”

The two of you never said ‘goodbye’ to each other not wanting it to feel like it was the ending of something.

You handed the phone back to Clint’s wife and made your trek back to the stairs before you stopped.

“Where am I exactly?”

The archer blinked owlishly at you while you stared at him with a raised eyebrow. You shrugged before continuing your way to the room you were staying in.

“Eh. I’ll figure it out.”

“What’s that even supposed to mean?”

“You’ll see.”

-

They left. Again. Not surprising.

You should be used to it by now. They had people to save anyway.

It was late at night and you couldn’t sleep--what’s new?

You didn’t want to bother anyone but you just couldn’t stand the commotion. You couldn’t stand that being the only thing you’re focused on.

You decided to go to the kitchen to see if Laura needed help with anything considering she did just have a whole team of unexpected guests.

The scene downstairs, kind of seemed… upsetting to you. The lights were dimmed, it was quiet, and the woman you were searching for was hunched over a cup of tea.

“Are you okay?”

Stupid question.

The brunette’s head snapped up and she met your gaze. Her eyes held a melancholy undertone in them and you just couldn’t imagine what was swirling in her mind.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

You took a seat next to her on the couch and fiddled with your hands.

“I just… worry sometimes, you know?”

“Yeah. Clint can be an idiot sometimes.”

You both shared a chuckle but the deafening silence still returned. The air flowing through the home could be heard. You could probably hear the kids’ breathing if you tried hard enough.

“Why are you still up?”

“Why are you still up? Isn’t that like, bad for the baby or something?”

Through the corner of your sight, you could see Laura shaking her head at you as a small smile danced across her lips.

“I asked first.”

You let out a sigh and shrugged your shoulders.

“Just...couldn’t sleep I guess.”

The woman nods in response and takes a sip of her tea. It was obvious to her that something else was on your mind but she didn’t pry and you were thankful for that.

Instead, she just grabbed the remote and turned the television on, an episode from the sitcom Living Single playing quietly.

A weight was felt on Laura’s shoulder and she looked down to see the young teenager resting with small breaths escaping her parted lips. The woman was careful to free an arm and wrap it around your shoulders, you subconsciously snuggling in further.

-

Walking down the halls of the compound, you searched all the doors. As you reached one, you raised your fist to knock only for the door to fly open before you could.

You clear your throat before looking towards the ground.

“May I, may I come in?”

The person nods and you hesitantly step inside the room and take a seat at the desk.

“I’m sorry about your brother.”

“Me too,” Wanda nods.

There was this awkward, tense silence that just floated through the room that seemed almost impossible to get rid of. It was suffocating.

“I’m sorry about the uhhh, whole mind thing.”

You too nodded in response and gave your reassurance, your mind focused on her accent. It was comforting to say the least.

It had been at least two weeks after the whole ultron thing. Tony was obviously oblivious to what happened to you.

When he ignored or neglected you, it was like a paper cut--never acknowledged or thought about until something provokes it.

You had passed the witch a few times in passing, but never truly held a conversation with her.

You knew of the passing of her brother and you knew how hard it was--is to lose a loved one. Especially if that loved one was the only one that made you feel like you weren’t completely and utterly alone.

“I know it’s not my place to say but,” you paused to take a deep breath. “Don’t let this hold you back. I-I was never given the chance to grieve my m-mom properly and, and I don’t want what happened to me to happen to you, I guess.”

At this point, you felt like you were just spitballing. You figured she already knew what was going on in your head so why not just be open about it.

“And I’m pretty sure the others will come around. Clint seemed to like you.”

The corner of Wanda’s mouth lifted a little and she gave a breathy laugh.

“And I guess, I like you too.”

“Thanks.”

You took a moment to gather yourself before heading towards the door.

“I guess I’ll see you around.”

-

“So to recap, you were kidnapped by a robot with murderous tendencies, got your mind manipulated by an enhanced individual, and now you’re living and somewhat acquaintances with said ‘enhanced individual’.”

“Yeah, that’s about it.”

Michelle chuckled in response and shook her head in disbelief.

“That’s crazy.”

You shrugged with a frown and scooted closer to her. Your shoulders were touching but neither of you moved.

“Eh, I’m kind of getting used to the crazy.”

You were watching the stars on the roof of her building again. MJ brought some snacks and a blanket which the two of you were currently snuggled up in.

The food was eaten quite quickly and silence was quick to wash over the two of you. But the silence wasn’t like it was with Wanda or even Laura. With MJ it was a peaceful and serene moment; like the two of you were in this indestructible bubble that only you two were allowed in. With her you felt safe.

You turned your head towards Michelle only to find her already looking at you. Both of your faces heated up but neither of you could look away. Instead, grins rose to both of your faces before the girl pulled you closer to her.

Yeah. Michelle was home.

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

Taglist

@leahnicole1219 @thebadasssass @littlegasps @lengendarymcnuggies @stillmanicc​

[waddlenut]

Masterlist of the masterlist - Harry Styles

I HAVE WRITTEN NONE OF THESE FANFICS, CREDITS TO THE WRITERS!

This is a masterlist of my reblogs :)

ONE DIRECTION

Fluff -

He doesn’t want to take advantage of you while you’re drunk (5/5)

You fall asleep on hijm in front of the boys (5/5)

Angst - 

You get mobbed by paparazzi (Harry and Louis preference)

The one where your house is on fire and you are asleep (Niall preference)

You pass out (Niall)

Tiger (Niall finds his girlfriend looking in the mirror, judging her appearance)

HARRY STYLES

Fluff -

Choosing her (y/n overhears Harry sticking up for her)

The one where you have a huge fight and you are sick

Not your fault (fav. y/n has epilepsy and Harry feels helpless. TW - minor graphic description of an epilepsy attack)

Y/N is in a wheelchair and she is grocery shopping with Harry

Just talk (fav. y/n has a minor speech impediment and one of Harry’s friend makes fun of her for it. She doesn’t know how to react, Harry does.)

Tea mugs and tear stains (y/n gets overwhelmed and Harry helps)

Harry jokes about your moaning

A white t-shirt (Harry find out about y/n’s scars. TW - mentions selfharm/scars)

Y/N vomits down Harry’s gucci suit and Harry couldn’t give a shit (TW - throwing up)

Y/N falling in the shower and boyfriend!Harry getting ultra worried

You’re deaf and Harry is besotted with you

Cus y’laugh is pretty (in which Harry gets his wiskom teeth removed)

Y/N is stressed and Harry makes everything just a little bit better

Coming out to Harry as bisexual (good ending, no worries)

Sweater (y/n cold and steals Harry’s sweater)

Periods, pads and pain (Y/N is on her period)

Holding him (just pure love and affection)

He’s just jealous (fav. a small kids thinks Y/N is pretty and wants to sit with her)

My muse (TW - camille)

My hero (Harry being protective)

You’re poor and he doesn’t know

The best doctor (Y/N has chronic migraines)

First class (the one when Y/N and Harry meet during a long flight, and Harry makes a new little friend too)             part 2

Your best friend negatively talks about you and Harry’s relationship and he overhears

Your english is so good yet, and someone makes fun of it. Harry does not appericiate that

The best gift (fav. Y/N can’t afford Harry’s life style. angst w/ fluff)

Right place, right time (fav. When someone starts following the reader, Harry is the prince on a white horse)

Harry points you out at his concert             part 2                        part 3

Y/N has an asthma attack at Harry’s place

Y/N gets drunk and uses Harry’s dick as a microphone

Y/N is breastfeeding in public and a man started saying rude remarkt to her, Harry knows how te react (fav)

Families meet (one where Harry’s family and Y/N Mexican family meet)

Her good baby (fav. Y/N has been really busy with a family program and kinda forgets about Harry. That’s until he breaks)

Spill your guts or fill your guts (based on spill you guts or fill your guts with Harry and Kendall but instead of Kendall it’s you)

Harry think Y/N and the kids forgot his birthday (fav)

CEO!Harry bring this baby angel to work, all fun until she gets lost

Y/N accidentally eating Harry’s edibles

Harry just cannot believe how much he loves

Harry and Y/N’s first thanksgiving in their home and a little announcement

Candy Wrappers (Harry loves candy, that results in a house full of candy wrappers)

Harry dating a curvy girl

Y/N and Harry’s home birth doesn’t go as planned

Under the canyon moon (dad!harry blowing raspberries into bubs tummy but they get a rash)

Y/N is in London while he is LA during quarantine (fav)

Quarantining with dad!Harry and your bub

Harry feels neglected when Y/N spends lots of time with Anne

Pregnant (where you’re pregnant during the corona outbreak and Harry is super protective)

Sunflower vol.6: the fic (fav. Y/N has tourette syndrome and Harry falls in love)

Bad days and good days (Y/N has depression and Harry takes care of her. TW - mentions of depression)

Mornings with the Styles family

Y/N following Harry around the house because she got scared watching a movie

Better than melatonin (Harry’s songs help you sleep)

Harry doing baby bubs hair in the bathroom while she’s facetiming Mitch (fav)

Harry helps you through childbirth

Anasthesia and letting go (reader has gotten their wisdome teeth removed and Harry takes care of them)

Getting naked in front of Harry for the first time

Harry reads Y/N a story to help her drift off to sleep

Want a chicken nugget (you’re taking a shower and Harry, knowing your love for chicken nuggets, comes and gives you one)

Rainbow cardigan (Harry loses his favorite cardigan. You learn how to knit)

My shy little boy (Y/N’s son is too shy to play with other kids at Anne’s house)

Golden dancing (fav. Harry is on stage singing golden and little Artemis comes running on stage and starts dancing)

Daddy (Artemis calls Harry daddy for the first time)

The first meeting (Y/N and Artemis met a handsome (to Y/N) and intimidating (to Artemis) man)

Watermelon suger (behind the scenes) (Shots of long-term girlfriend Y/N in watermelon suger. TW - some strong language)

Roses and vanilla (in which Y/N and Harry aren’t really close until Y/N falls in the shower, and Harry falls in love)

Babbles (bubby crying during a show just to get Harry’s attention so they can go on stage and babble into the mic)

No kids (H and his partner deciding not to have children)

Toxic family (fav. The reader doesn’t have the best family, lucky for them, the Styles are basically their family)

Harry’s son runs on stage

Listen to me (fav. Autistic!reader has a difficult moment)

Angst -

You pass out backstage

You have paranoia disorder

Can you leave? (fav. ceo!harry)

Complains (In which Y/N heard Harry complainging about her)

Taken (your abusive ex tries to contact you when Harry’s away on your. (TW - name calling and slight violence)

Autistic!reader has an interview with Harry (fav)

You get into a car accident when Harry’s in the middel of a concert       part 2 

Too busy for a baby (TW - harry’s an asshole + mentions of pregnancy)

Y/N gets anxiety at one of Harry’s concerts. (TW - anxiety and guns are mentioned)

He kicks you out of the car. (fav)       part 2

Long way down (the one where she tinks he’s being unfaithful, and he questions the trust in their relationship. TW - mentions of creating and pregnancy complications)             part 2 

The one where you have a huge fight and you are sick

There’s a rumor being spread about you

Remember me (Harry forgets your birthday)

Harry calls Y/N clingy and she leaves

Harm done (fav. Y/N makes Harry food but he doesn’t even like it)

Harry coming home to find Y/N locked herself up in the washroom

Don’t touch her (you’re in the crowd and somebody touches you while Harry’s performing. TW - sexual harassment and mild assault)

Why would you keep something like this from me? (In which she’s been feeling umcomfortable and doesn’t tell Harry. TW - mentions of assault)

Y/N and Harry get in a bad argument and Y/N gets a panic attack (TW - panic attack)

And I can’t give that to you (fav. In which Harry suffers from seasonal depression ands he doesn’t know how to help)

So tired (you join Harry on tour but he seems to have other prirorites. Angst w/ fluff on the way)                part 2

You have self-esteem issues (TW - talking about low self-esteem)

Y/N has an anxiety attack at a concert and calls Harry (TW - anxiety attack)

Even if it was momentary (in which Harry is forced to watch his worst nightmare)

Little white lie (a television talk show host feels you up backstage and you don’t tell Harry. TW - sexual harassment)     part 2

He hides the fact that he’s sick on tour form you and insults you when you try to take care of him

There’s an intruder in her house (Harry comes home to find his girlfriend is being threatenend by an intruder. TW - some curse words, mentions of sex & just in general subject of break ins and panic)

Narcissistic behaviour (Harry loves to talka bout himself, but it’s suppose to be Y/N’s special day)

Miss you (where Y/N loses Harry’s rose ring and he gives them the silent treatment)

Dizzy (Y/N gets hurt on Harry’s watch. TW - fainting/passing out)

Happy birthday (in which Y/N throws Harry a suprise birthday party, but Harry ends up making her cry)

Harry comparing you to Camille

Exhaustedly in love (Y/N passes out as soon as Harry comes home from tour because she has been studying day and night)

Go home (in which Harry is jet lagged and you’re completely humiliated)    part 2

Get out (Y/N is done with Harry being busy with work all the time)       part 2

Anesthesia and apologies (fav) 

Y/N has a condition that makes her have seizures (TW - mentions of seizures)

Harry loses his baby angel while shopping

Harry complains to the boys about Y/N and his sex life       part 2

You’re in love with Harry but your self-doubt won’t believe he’s in love with you

Don’t shout (Harry doesn’t know what to do after he lied to Y/N)

Make it up to you (Harry loses his temper and almost hits you. TW - almost being hit by a lover and swearing)

I’ll get there (Y/N has been struggling with her body image ever since she was a teenager, but now that she was becoming a big time model, it had only gotten worse. TW - mentions of eating disorders and symptoms similair to those of a panic attack)

Smut -

Harry comes home to Y/N being in subspace but he doesn’t realize

Needy baby (the one where Harry’s bakc from tour and his girl really just needs to feel him)

Shower head

Harry gets emotional because he loves you so much

Taste my lips, feel my touch (Y/N’s stuck in subspace and Harry helps her out of it)

Where Harry is an asshole CEO but Y/N is his little love

Happy anniversary

Y/N goes into sub space when she is overwhelmed, but now it happend in public

Then again sometimes I get really sweet (TW - belly humping)

This cutest thing ever

Crossing the finish line

Right choice (Harry has a moustache now and you want get it sticky. TW - swearings, sexual intercourse and a sticky moustache)

Timing (Harry cumming early and he is upset and disappointed)

Cause I’m high, chewing on your taste (TW - Sub!Harry, H in fishnets and pegging)

Out in the heartland (It’s Harry’s birthday and you have a very special gift for him. TW - daddy kink, pegging, anal fingering and rimming)

[fanficshiddles]

Tear You To Pieces, Chapter 9

Kelly shut the curtains as soon as she got into the rather shabby B&B room. But it was the best she could afford in the meantime, she had no idea how long she was going to have to be on the run for, so didn’t want to blow all of her money too quickly.

She’d managed to budget herself to last on the run for around a year. She had to include hair dye into the monthly budget. As even though it had been two months, she had no idea if Loki was still looking for her or not, so she only went out in disguise to be on the safe side.

She was still not over what happened, what was still happening. And she knew it was all her fault, she would never be able to get over it. She had unleashed the monster, literally.

Not bothering to turn the TV on, she just got into bed and tried not to think about it all. The news was always filled with Loki now, and how he was conquering the world. Country after country was flocking to kneel under Loki’s rule. Otherwise, he was slaying every country that dared to defy him. Which soon brought them to heel, before they lost everyone.

Kelly was really jumpy, every noise right outside her room had her entire body going ridged, expecting the worst. It took her heart a while to stop racing after each noise. She knew she couldn’t carry on living like this, but she didn’t know what else to do.

Turning onto her side she curled up and cried herself to sleep, like she did every night. But her sleep was never peaceful, it was always laced with nightmares. Always of him. Most of the time, he was looming over her with her sisters’ body at his feet.

She woke up in a sweat, calling out for her sister. How she wished everything was just a nightmare, but no. She was living a nightmare.

Keeping on the move was her plan, so since she was awake anyway, even though it was only five in the morning, she decided to move on to the next place to stay. She had made it all the way up to Edinburgh by foot mainly but also a couple of bus trips. She just kept moving around from city to city, town to town. Wherever she could get to.

As Kelly made her way down the road, there was just a few people going about at that time of the morning. But she kept getting shivers down her spine, and not from the cold. It was like someone was watching her…

When she looked round over her shoulder, she caught a glimpse of a tall, black-haired man amongst a small crowd of early risers heading to work. Her heart started racing in fear, thinking it was Loki, she quickly moved on and walked as fast as she could. When she glanced back in the direction of the man, there was no sign of him anymore.

She tried to shake it off, thinking it had just been her imagination. Surely if it had been Loki, he would’ve made his presence more known.

But as she made her way further into the centre of the city, she still had a really bad feeling that she was being followed. So she rushed into the bus station and bought a ticket to head further North, maybe if she headed out of the cities and tried the quieter villages, she might be able to stay under the radar better.

Just before she was able to pay for her ticket, there was sudden screaming and panic within the station.

‘What the…’ She looked around in confusion, but then she felt pure dread run through her veins as she saw the reason for the panic and chaos.

Loki.

He had stormed into the station in his regal armour, the biggest grin formed on his face when he locked eyes on Kelly.

‘No…’ She gasped out quietly, her legs suddenly turned to jelly as she tried to run with the others that were panicking.

Loki made his way towards Kelly straight away, with large purposeful strides as he towered above everyone else that was scarpering around him in terror.

She started running for the back exit, but Loki reached out towards her and Kelly suddenly felt as if there was a collar around her neck that was suddenly pulling her backwards towards him. She brought her hands up to her neck but couldn’t feel anything there, but there was definitely something pulling her back.

She panicked and screamed as she was dragged back towards Loki, who had stopped and was just pulling her towards him. When she was within grabbing distance, the invisible collar disappeared and she felt like she could run again.

But she was within striking distance. And Loki struck like a snake, grabbing her he forced her to the nearest wall and pinned her against it, his large dominant hand wrapped around her neck firmly. Her lower lip was trembling in fear as he sneered down at her, she tried clawing at his arm but it was futile.

‘Mmmm, I finally found you.’ Loki hummed low and squeezed her neck a bit harder in warning when she continued trying to struggle.

‘Plea… please… Let me go.’ She stuttered out between trying to take big breaths, his hand controlling her breathing wasn’t making it easy to talk.

‘Oh no, my little pet. You should be begging for my forgiveness, for that little stunt of running away from me. You have no idea how much of an inconvenience it was when I came to collect you, to find you gone. Ungrateful mortal.’ He growled, squeezing her neck again for a few seconds, making her splutter.

He could see the pure fear in her eyes.

‘However.’ He purred, easing up a little on his grip he rubbed his thumb up and down the side of her neck. ‘I wouldn’t be in the position I am now if it hadn’t been for you. And whilst I should punish you for being a naughty girl and disobeying me, I will give you the benefit of the doubt. This time. Because I know you’re my good girl really, aren’t you?’

Kelly closed her eyes and tried to tune him out. But of course, that could never happen.

‘Look at me!’ He demanded and squeezed her neck again, making her eyes fly open.

‘Maybe once I get you home, you’ll be more talkative. And I shall give you your reward, and finally claim what you owe me.’ His eyes darkened and he smirked, then leaned in and kissed her on the lips, despite her trying to move her head away to no avail.

She had no choice but to endure his lips moving against hers, he was surprisingly gentle, yet there was an urgency within him too. A very deep part of her was longing at his kiss, like it was a reminder of what she thought they once had… But she remembered that had all been fake, Loki had used her.

Loki pulled back slightly, licking his lips. ‘Now come, pet. Let me show you your new home.’ He grinned wickedly and released her neck.

But before she could even think about trying to run, a collar formed around her neck. Only this time it wasn’t invisible, she could feel it too with her hands as she tried pulling it off. There was a chain leash attached to it that Loki held, so she was going nowhere.

‘Come on.’ Loki growled and tugged her along as he headed out the main entrance.

When they stepped outside, some civilians that saw Loki started kneeling for him instantly. Some ran away. But Loki didn’t care about any of them, he had what he wanted.

Kelly couldn’t stop shaking and crying as Loki slipped his arm around her waist and held her in close, then teleported them both to the airport where Loki had a jet waiting for them. He hauled Kelly onto it, she wasn’t sure why she was even trying to still get away, she knew there was no chance.

Loki had the leash vanish, but the collar remained. As soon as it was off, she ran as far back in the jet as possible and cowered down in the corner. Loki chuckled and took a seat near the front, looking very pleased with himself.

‘There is a much comfier seat down here for you, pet. It might be a bumpy ride.’ Loki called back to her as the jet started off down the runway.

But Kelly was quite happy where she was, as far away from Loki as she possibly could be between some seats. Though she knew it wouldn’t be for long, the jet was already taking off into the sky. She didn’t know exactly where home was for Loki. She really didn’t want to know.

‘You know, it has been ok since I’ve been ruling your world. Not quite as fun and exciting as I had originally hoped, but I realised it’s been because I’ve been chasing you. Now that I’ve found you, the real fun can begin.’ Loki said casually as he opened a bag of salted nuts.

Kelly shivered at his tone and words, she didn’t want to know what he meant by that.

It only took half an hour to get to their destination. But it had felt more like ten hours for Kelly, with Loki trying to make small talk the whole way there, as if nothing was wrong. As if she was there of her own accord.

‘Isn’t this a delightful sight.’ Loki chuckled, looking out of the window.

Kelly was curious as to where she was. So she slowly moved onto her knees and leaned up on one of the seats to look out the window. Her eyes widened at what she saw.

They were coming to land in New York, but it wasn’t the New York she remembered.

For starters, where The Statue Of Liberty should be, was replaced with a ten times larger statue of Loki himself. Then as they headed into the city, where the Avengers tower used to be, a new tower was built. But it was much larger too, and on the side of it was Loki’s name in bright gold letters.

‘No… No.’ She sobbed and put her hand over her mouth in horror.

[honeypiehotchner]

intelligence & issues (Hotch x Reader) -- chapter eleven

I’m backkkk <33 Enjoy!

Today’s chapter title comes from “Wildest Dreams” by Taylor Swift and honestly? That song is Hotch and Reader’s song tbh

Chapter Warnings: fluff! Crime scene stuffs, case stuffs, and Hotch is an asshole at the end (what’s new?)

Previous chapter || Fic Masterlist

Chapter Eleven: I thought, “Heaven can’t help me now.”

When you wake, you have a strange sense of Deja Vu. Hotch is shaking your shoulder again, only this time, you’re not in your bed.

“We’re landing soon,” he says softly, hand lingering on your shoulder, but you welcome its weight and warmth, forgetting for a moment that the rest of the team is on this jet.

“Mm, okay…” You bring the blanket underneath your chin, only this is when you realize it’s not a blanket.

You tilt your head down to look at the fabric, then lift your eyes back up to see Hotch isn’t wearing his jacket.

His jacket.

Oh my God.

He sees the realization on your face and smiles, but instead of commenting on it, he turns to start waking the others. As expected, Rossi didn’t sleep, but Reid is still quite frankly passed out. Emily, JJ, and Morgan are coming around, though, and upon seeing that, you scramble to get Hotch’s jacket off of you, catching Rossi’s eyes in the process.

“You were cold,” Rossi says with a shrug, and a smirk.

You shouldn’t be mortified, but you are.

After folding Hotch’s jacket over your arm, you wait until your boss is sitting back down to hand it to him with a raised eyebrow. “Thank you,” you whisper.

“You’re welcome,” he says, thinking nothing of it as he shrugs it back over his shoulders. When he sees you’re still looking at him like that, he adds, “You were getting goosebumps. Would you have rather I let you freeze to death?”

Is he making a joke? You wonder, with the corners of his lips tugging upward. You shake your head, saying nothing else.

No wonder you slept so soundly.

+++

Upon arriving at the local police station, you’re all met with the usual: desperate officers who want you to snap your fingers and find the unsub ASAP.

And, they always look pretty displeased when you admit that you need time.

You swear sometimes people think the BAU is made up of sorcerers who can see the future and not regular humans who are just trained to recognize and predict behaviors.

Regardless, they’re happy you’re here.

“I was shocked myself when I made the connection,” Sheriff Ansley says, nodding to the pictures of the other seven victims, with Nathan and Jonathan at the end. “Those others were so spaced out, we just… Oh, it sounds bad, but when you’ve got other problems coming across your desk, they can all blur together.”

“We understand,” you say, trying to be the comforting one here, even though you’re feeling more and more like time doesn’t exist and that you’ve entered a third dimension.

A few hours of sleep and jet lag can really do a person in. Especially with the added stressor of Hotch standing next to you.

“Morgan, L/N, I need you to come to the crime scene with me,” Hotch says, and your eyes widen the moment your name slips from his mouth. Is he trying to mess with you? You figured after covering you up on the jet, he’d make a conscious effort to be as far away from you today as possible. Just because Morgan is also coming along doesn’t mean much. Profilers aren’t dense.

“Prentiss and I will go talk to the victim’s family,” Rossi says, nodding to Emily.

Reid says nothing, too engrossed by the pictures and details tacked up on the board. Though, after a moment, he says, “I need a map of the town. Maybe the region. Yeah...the region.”

A little confused, Sheriff Ansely replies, “We’ll get that for you.”

JJ notices the confusion and says, “I’ve got it, don’t worry.”

With everyone focused, you pile into a vehicle with Hotch and Morgan up front (you purposefully sit in the back) to head to the crime scene. Sheriff Ansley leads in her car, and about two seconds in, you wish you would’ve thought to ride with her.

“You know I have to ask,” Morgan begins, a shit-eating grin on his face as he looks over at Hotch. “What did you get up to last night? Get lucky?”

Hotch looks ready to backhand his fellow agent. “No.”

Morgan keeps going. “Come on, Hotch, it’s about time you get some.”

“For now, I’ll stick to the case.”

Morgan huffs, giving in, which you think is for the better. But when Morgan turns his head to look out the window, Hotch catches your eyes in the rearview mirror.

You sink as far down as you can in your seat, biting the inside of your cheek to hide your smile.

+++

You have no clue what you were expecting when you pictured the outside of Jonathan King’s house, but it wasn’t this.

A few police cars are already here, their men having already gone in to look around, but not touch anything. A few cars look tiny next to the monster that is the mansion you’re looking at.

“I thought this was a small town,” you mutter, closing the car door.

“Jonathan’s daddy was the owner of the only car dealership in town,” Sheriff Ansley explains. “They were big money.”

“I can tell,” you shake your head. “Definitely don’t have houses like this where I’m from.”

The sheriff chuckles. “Yeah. Before they built it, this was a wide open field. Tiny house. Space for all kinds of animals. Had a red barn out there,” she points off to where a gigantic pool complete with a rock waterfall is.

You hum. “A lot changes for the worse sometimes when money comes in.”

She looks at you then, almost like she respects you a little more now. Which isn’t unusual. The sheriffs in small towns don’t exactly like having to call the FBI in for help. Some do it rather begrudgingly. It’s more often than not that you find yourself being the bridge between big city and small town.

“Any signs of forced entry?” Hotch asks the first officer he sees and they shake their head.

“Nothing. But this damn mansion is so big…” He trails away, looking around at it all.

“I understand,” Hotch sighs. “If you find anything, let us know.”

“Hotch,” you speak up, nearly tapping his shoulder, but you quickly pull your hand back. “If this unsub is a woman, then it’s likely there won’t be any forced entry.”

The sheriff nods. “She has a point.”

“How?” Morgan asks, eyebrows furrowed over his sunglasses.

“Seriously?” You deadpan. “Do you want me to demonstrate?”

He catches on, and drawls, “Go right ahead,” prompting you to shove his shoulder.

“Focus,” Hotch scolds. “I hear you. He probably let her in.”

“Did Jonathan have a reputation of being a player?” Morgan asks. “Take a lot of girls out on dates? Get serious with a lot of them but never marriage-serious?”

Sheriff Ansley nearly snorts. “Oh, yeah. He was the town’s bachelor. New woman every week. Swore every single one was The One.”

You nod slowly. “He must’ve picked up the wrong one, then.”

“Evidently so,” she replies quietly, leading the three of you into the house.

Hotch opts for looking around the house with the sheriff while you and Morgan go to Jonathan’s bedroom.

And he’s still lying there. Wonderful.

You nearly gag, but stop yourself. You’re never going to get used to this shit. At least there isn’t blood literally drenching the walls like that other case.

Moving on.

“Looks like it’s the exact same MO,” Morgan comments, idly checking the body for anything the officers might’ve missed.

You dig around on Jonathan’s dresser, drawers, nightstand, everywhere.

“This guy was seriously rich,” you mutter, picking up a few really expensive watches. Upon opening one drawer, you literally find a wad of cash. At least two thousand dollars, stuffed in between pairs of socks. “The unsub didn’t take this?” You hold up the cash to Morgan.

“She must not’ve spent time here,” he concludes. “Doesn’t look like she took any trophies either.”

“I can’t imagine why,” you say, then crack a smile. “So you’re on my side then, huh?”

He turns his head, eyebrows furrowed. “What?”

“It’s a woman.”

Morgan chuckles. “Yeah, kiddo. I’m on your side. This has woman all over it.”

“Kiddo,” you groan, tossing the cash back in the drawer. “Any clothes from the unsub lying around? I’m guessing she’s smarter than that.”

“Yeah, there’s nothing,” Morgan says, going into the bathroom. “The window in here is locked tight.”

“I really doubt she forced her way in,” you say. “He probably took her out on a date, brought her inside willingly, and didn’t realize until it was too late that he should not have messed with her.” You pause. “Does this place have security cameras? It looks expensive enough to have them. We should get Garcia to get the footage.”

You’re too busy rambling to see that Morgan has walked back into the room, only this time he’s eyeing you carefully.

You turn your head, raising an eyebrow at him. “What?”

“Listen, I know these guys were…” He gestures rather than saying it.

“Rapists?” You say tiredly, placing your hands on your hips. No need to be afraid of saying the word around you. You’ve heard it plenty and said it yourself more times than you want to. “What about it?”

“I just wanted to say I know how good it can feel to see someone like that taken down,” Morgan says slowly. “And then you feel guilty for feeling good.”

You set your jaw, hating he’s right. You’ve yet to admit it to yourself, though. Isn’t it wrong? On multiple levels? You’re supposed to catch the bad guys, not relate to them so much that you understand why they’re doing this.

“And I know it can also bring up some bad memories, but, I’m here for you,” he says, keeping his eyes on yours. “I mean that.”

“Thanks, Derek,” you whisper. “It does...kinda feel good, but...I know it’s the wrong way to do it.”

“Do what?”

“Make a difference,” you shrug. “If I killed Trevor, I’d be taking the short route. That’s why I’m here. To make a bigger difference.”

He smiles then, gently. “And you’re doin’ it. Trust me.”

You let yourself smile, too. “Thanks. Now let’s get back to work before boss man comes in here telling us to focus,” you mimic Hotch’s voice and tone at the end, making yourself laugh as you turn back around.

And that’s when you have the absolute shit scared out of you because Hotch is standing there, frowning at you. Oh, he totally heard that.

“Sorry, sir,” you murmur, knowing you should apologize while you’re ahead.

Thankfully, to save yourself from embarrassment, Morgan’s phone starts ringing. He pulls it out and puts it on speaker.

“Talk to me, babygirl.”

“All of our other victims? Yeah, they were accused of rape, too. Four of them were acquitted or blatantly dismissed, three of them with such short sentences it probably felt like a vacation.”

You roll your eyes. “Sounds about right.”

Hotch eyes you, but talks to Garcia. “Get us a list of anyone in this region that fits those same criteria.”

“Already done, and it is heading to JJ as we speak.”

Morgan shakes his head at how good she is. “Oh, and check and see if you can get the footage from Jonathan’s security cameras at his house. Y/N thinks he should have some.”

“She’s correct, I just found them,” Garcia says, no doubt through a smile. “I’ll send the footage over and start looking.”

“We should get back to the station and go over those names, see if we can narrow it down at all,” Hotch says. “Hopefully Garcia can get us something from that video.”

+++

Garcia gathers one thing from the video, but it’s not anything to do with facial recognition.

For now, it’s obvious this woman is a strong suspect because she’s the only one seen entering and leaving the house (she walked out right through the front door with her head down) in the window of time that Jonathan was killed. But...

“There’s not a clear shot at all,” Garcia says. “Because they’re… How do I put this? His lips are basically attacking her face and it’s a miracle they made it inside instead of just going at it against the door.”

Morgan snorts out a laugh, Reid (who is working on connecting the nine victims further) goes impossibly red, and Hotch shakes his head.

“Well, we’ve got a physical description now,” Rossi says, trying to see the bright side before Hotch loses it, you’re sure.

“Yeah, but it’s just a young brunette in a dress and heels,” Emily argues. “That’s nowhere near narrow enough.”

“Brown hair is actually the second most common hair color,” Reid supplies. “The most common is black, but they’re usually lumped together in studies. A recent one found that 84% of the world’s population has dark hair. But, of course, women are more likely to color their hair than men—”

“We got it, kid,” Morgan says gently, tapping Reid’s shoulder to get him to slow down.

“So,” you chuckle, “she has dark hair, which are the two most common hair colors.” Then, seemingly out of nowhere, a thought occurs to you. “Wait, can I see the video again?”

Garcia plays it again.

“Pause there,” you point to the woman’s hands. “See how she reaches for his wrist?”

“Where are you going with this?” Morgan asks.

It’s then that it occurs to you just where you’re going with this, and you try to hide your embarrassment.

“You can play it again.” After a few seconds, you get Garcia to pause again. “See? She tries to pin his wrists. She’s dominating. She’s the one in control there. See how his back is against the door, too? He didn’t start that way, she turned them around to get the upper hand.”

“So she’s confident,” Emily ponders.

“In sexual situations, at least,” you add. “Some women who are outwardly shy, but like to dominate in bed. It can be different for everyone.”

“So you’re saying we’re looking for a super quiet, shy woman?”

“Not necessarily. Given that she has had enough confidence to kill these nine men without anyone noticing, I’d be willing to bet she’s pretty confident now. It could be a newfound confidence, or she honestly could have always been this way. A lot of Dominatrixes are pretty confident outside of the bedroom, too. Maybe not in the same way, but they are. Just comes with the territory.”

“A territory you seem to know a lot about,” Morgan teases, poking your shoulder.

You scoff. “You wish.”

But your eyes find Hotch’s and you feel another rush go through you, all the way to your toes. You burn every single time you’re underneath his gaze. Averting your eyes quickly back to the screen, you try to shift in your seat in the least noticeable way.

It’s not like he doesn’t already know. If he seriously doesn’t know or at least have some suspicion, then you might suggest he get a new profession.

Redirecting the attention back to the case, Hotch turns to Sheriff Ansley and says, “We’re ready to give a preliminary profile.”

The team stands to head out to the main area. You and Hotch are the last two left, which you’re sure he did deliberately.

“You should take the lead,” he says, and you swear, your heart falls out of your ass.

“What?” You’ve never taken the lead on a profile in your life. Why would he just spring this on you right now? On this case, of all cases? Seriously?

He doesn’t change his mind. “I trust you to get all of the details right. And we’ll jump in when needed, but I want you to take the lead.”

You’re shaking your head. “Hotch, I haven’t—”

“It’s an order,” he says, voice firm. “Understood?”

“Yes.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Yes what?”

Bastard. He did it again. “Yes sir.”

And your jaw nearly ends up on the floor when he smirks, a quiet, “Good girl,” falling from his lips.

Damn him. Now you’re supposed to give the profile? How bad would it be to let Emily take over so you can jump Hotch in the nearest supply closet?

You never find out how bad it would be because Hotch walks out and thanks the officers for being there, and introduces you, giving you zero time to recover.

“Thank you so much for your patience,” you say first. “The unsub we’re looking for is, in fact, a woman, confirmed by some security footage that was recovered from Jonathan King’s home. She’s a brunette, average height, attractive, and she’s confident. She’s killed nine times and hasn’t been caught yet, so she’s likely to be gaining confidence.”

An officer raises his hand, so you nod to him. “No offense...but your description fits practically every girl in this town -- I guess, besides the killing part.”

“That’s what we figured,” you admit. “Unfortunately, this kind of unsub is the hardest to catch. They don’t stand out at all, they blend right in. It’s partly why they go so long without being caught.”

“But they’re not impossible to catch,” Rossi adds, helping you out with the annoyed officers. “This unsub has already killed twice in a week, which could be a sign that she’s beginning to devolve. When they’re in this state, they are easier to catch because they tend to get reckless and forget things, change patterns, which is what we need.”

“So we need to keep a tight lid on this for now,” JJ says. “The media isn’t going to cover this at all tonight because we need our unsub to believe she’s still getting away with it.”

Another officer pipes up. “If the news isn’t gonna report this, how can we keep people safe?”

It’s a valid question. It’s one that you always get when you decide to not have media coverage.

“Keep an eye out. And don’t take any women home,” Morgan offers.

But that doesn’t seem good enough, because the same officer says, “All due respect, sir, but asking a man not to do that is like asking him not to breathe.”

The amount of laughter and you got that right’s that you hear from the other male officers makes your stomach twist. Morgan’s small laugh makes you want to smack him.

“Well, try to refrain for a while,” you state plainly, bringing the focus back around. “If you can help it.”

Another officer says, “I don’t know if I can…” and clicks his tongue mockingly.

“Well, this unsub targets rapists,” you say loudly, placing emphasis on the word. “So if you aren’t a rapist, consider yourself safe and sound.”

That causes an uncomfortable silence to settle over the room, but you could care less. It should make them uncomfortable. It’s unfair that it’s something women have to just live with. It’s bullshit.

Emily and JJ share a look with you, the only kind women can understand. Makes you want a drink. And it’s not even late afternoon yet.

Rossi helps draw things to a close while Hotch practically stares you down. Not subtle at all. You feel it, and for that reason, you don’t look at him. But he’s hard to ignore.

Especially when he walks over and says, “I need to have a word with you,” and walks past you, giving you no choice but to follow.

Well, you could choose not to follow, but you’re not so sure you want to take your chances there. Not that the thrill of the idea doesn’t get you all excited, but now is not the time or place.

So, with your heart racing and your annoyance showing clearly on your face, you follow your boss to an office at the end of the hall. He’s waiting for you, already inside, and he doesn’t look happy.

What’s new?

He shuts the door behind you, his arms crossing over his chest again.

After a few moments of silence, you raise your eyebrows. “What?”

“Don’t be a brat,” he says sternly, causing your stomach to twist for different reason. “And don’t say what. You know what.”

You shake your head slowly. “I don’t, actually. That’s why I asked.”

He looks ready to absolutely devour you in the worst way possible, yet he doesn’t move. “I understand that after the case in your hometown—”

“God, why does everyone keep bringing that up?” You’re two seconds away from throwing your hands in the air like a child, but you stop yourself after the look he gives you.

“Because it just happened three weeks ago,” he replies, voice even. “And because it took a toll on you. That’s not something to be ashamed of, it’s just a fact.”

“You’ve never been up my ass about cases like this, not until you found out.”

“My knowing has not changed anything,” he says, and you think he might mean it. “And last I checked, this is your first case with a female unsub attacking rapists.”

You could punch him. You really want to punch him. “What’s your point?”

“I need to know that you can be objective,” he says. “I know you relate to our unsub. I know how easy it was for you to put yourself in her shoes. You did it almost immediately. I bet you knew it was a female unsub within the first few seconds of the debriefing.”

He’s right. Dammit. “And?”

“I need you to be on our side of this case.”

“I am!”

“Are you?” He counters. “If you knew who this unsub was, would you turn her in?”

“Are you suggesting—”

“Hypothetically.”

“Yes! For God’s sake, yes, I would turn her in.”

“Are you being honest with me?”

“What is wrong with you today?” You ask, crossing your arms over your chest. “If you have something else to say you might as well say it while we’re alone.”

He doesn’t move. Or say a single word.

So much for that.

“Look,” you uncross your arms, tired of fighting already. It’s exhausting on any normal day, but pair it with jet lag and it being between you and the man you obviously care for, and it’s a million times more exhausting. “Yes, I get where this unsub is coming from. Honestly, if it was legal and if there was a market for a job like what she’s doing, I probably would’ve gone into it instead of the FBI. But there isn’t. Because killing people is illegal. So I decided to go to the FBI to make a bigger difference— a real difference. Yes, I relate to the unsub. I get why she’s doing what she’s doing. But just because I get it doesn’t make it right.”

“Good,” he nods. “That’s all I needed to hear.”

You furrow your eyebrows. “I shouldn’t have even had to say it.”

The room falls silent.

Hotch sees it then, that look in your eyes. During the profile, it was all determination and confidence. When you entered the office, it was bratty and defiant. 

Now, it’s hurt.

That’s all he sees. And frankly, that’s all you’re feeling.

Since he doesn’t say anything else, you take it upon yourself to say, “Excuse me,” and join the team in the conference room with only one question on your mind.

Does he not trust me at all?

Next chapter

[alice-angel12x]

☁Centaur!Shouto x reader

It was a bright hot summer day, not even a cloud in the sky. It would be a perfect day for a good centaur racing, I would say.

"And what a beautiful day here in our small town of Seris. The perfect weather for a good Race, right Aizawa?" Present Mic's voice boomed over the arena.

"Augh. I would be at home asleep right now," Mr.Aizawa complained.

"Anyway it's the last lap for the race and number 27 Endeavor with rider Hawks is still holding first place, with number 1 All Might with rider Night eye on their tail. Which is exciting cause both centaurs have won both Preakness Stakes, and Belmont Stakes. If either one wins they will be the next triple crown," mic explained.

He was right the race was heated. All Might started to catch up with endeavor, but Endeavor was still in the lead by a nose.

"We're not going to win this," Night eye sighed as he eyed up Hawks and his centaur.

"Don't give up nighteye, we can still win this. The hurdles are the last obstacle," All Might gasps as he continues to run full throttle.

Up ahead were a few rows of fences laid out 176 yards away from the finish line.

As the two centaurs leaped over the fecenes, Endeavor failed to time his leap and knocked over the fence. Causing him to trip and send his rider flying. All Might and Night eye made it past the fences and sped ahead to take the win. As endeavor watched on as he felt the glare of his owner in the stand.

Farther away was a small pen that held the little colts, that also watched the race.

"Man did you see that, All Might Won. Know he's the triple Crown," A young colt Izuku said in awe.

"Ha, when I become a strong stallion, I'll be the next triple crown," Katsuki said confidently.

Shouto a young colt was in awe of All night's strength and aura. He wanted to be strong like him.

___________

When Shoto and Endeavor returned home, their life changed drastically. Their owner Figs started to do the bare minimum to take care of them. It got so bad that endeavors mate Rei died of malnutrition. After that loss in the race, Fig took out his anger on the centaurs.

Endeavor wasn't any better. Every day he forced his colts and fillies to run and train. His oldest son died of exhaustion from Endeavor, and lack of nutrition from Fig.

The other two siblings were eventually sold to other owners. Leaving Shouto alone in that old barn. ____

"Faster Shouto, you never be a triple Crown with that speed," Endeavor said as he whipped Shouto.

Shouto kept running till he came to an abrupt stop, as he threw up near an old tree. Endeavor cracked his whip as a warning to Shoto.

Shouto gasped as he got back but and ran till dawn.

"Humph, you have lots of room for improvement. Get to your stall and rest. We're continuing this tomorrow," Endeavor said not even looking at Shouto.

Shouto said made his way to his stable as he waited in his stall. Eventually, Fig came and dropped two nearly rotten apples in his food pale. Shouto grimaced and Fig noticed. Which did not make him happy.

"What not good Enough for you. You little s***!" Fig shouted as he grabbed a hot kettle and threw a cup's worth of boiling water at his face.

Shouto screamed in pain as he clutched the left side of his face.

"NOW YOUR PLACE. I OWN YOU!" Fig yelled in anger as he stormed out of the barn.

Shoto looked over to his father's stall, which was across from him. Only to see that his father just stared at him with no emotion. He simply shook his head and turned away.

It felt like the who world shatters as he felt nothing anger towards his father, Fig, Everything. From that day he refused to train or cooperate. Which lead to Him being beaten, whipped, and starve.

"How long are you going to stay on your foolish strike? I won't benefit you in the long run," Endeavor said as he went to sleep.

But Shoto didn't reply as quickly dug up the spare key to his stall. Quietly he unlocked his stall, then the barn door. Once outside he locked the door and made a run for the forest.

The forest was dark and quiet. It felt like Shoto was walking for miles, but didn't feel safe to rest anywhere in the forest. As he continued onward, Shoto tried and fell down a steep hill and hurt his right front leg. He cried out in pain as the pain was almost bearable. He limps forward and Eventually gets out of the forest to see... A barn out in the distance.

At first, Shoto was confused, did he walk in one big circle. Sadly he was too tired and sore to keep walking. As he collapsed where he stood.

The sun peeked above the horizon as the rooster crowed into the morning sky. Sunlight poured into the barn where Shouto laid. His eyes slowly open as he pushed himself upright.

It took him a few seconds to realize he was in a barn. He quickly got to his feet only to feel a sharp pain him his front leg. Cried in pain as he bumped into the side of his stall. It caused A huge ruckus as the stall across from his stirred. He closed his eyes tight expecting his father to scold him, only to hear a different voice.

"Hey keep it down over there. So of use are still trying to sleep," a young voice called out.

Shouto looked over to see a young centaur colt. Around his age with odd purple hair and baggy eyes.

Suddenly another voice calls out.

"What's going on over there?" A female voice asked this time.

Another centaur filly, as his age was in the stall next to the purple guy. She had fair skin and jet black hair tied into a ponytail.

"W-were am I?" Shouto asked.

"You are in a barn on the Aizawa family's land," The girl explained. "I'm Momo by the way. And this guy is Shinsou," she introduced.

"Shoto," Shoto said simply.

Shouto quickly inspects himself and sees he is covered in bandages. His coat and hair were all muddy and messy.

Suddenly the barn door opened revealing a young girl with h/c hair and e/c eyes. She looked a year or two younger than Shouto.

She came into the barn and started to drop apples, carrots, and some oats into their food pale. Shouto backs up to the corner of the stall, suspicious of the new human. The girl eventually comes over to his stall with a smile as she places his breakfast in the food pile. Shouto glared at her the entire time. Though she didn't seem to be bothered by that, as she continued her chores.

"Momo, who is that?" Shouto asked.

"That is y/n, she is one of the caretakers here, she is also my partner in pageants," Momo said proudly.

"Bad experiences with humans, Shouto?" Shinsou asked.

"You could say that,'' Shouto said.

Eventually, y/n came back with some bandages and cleaning supplies, and entering Shouto's stall. He tensed up as he saw her approach him. She slowly got on her knees and got slightly closer to him.

"Hello, there I'm y/n. I just want to change your bandages," She said softly. "And what's your name?" She asked.

Shouto didn't say anything as he tried to back away from her even more. Y/n slowly started to get closer only for Shoto to snap at her. She remained calm as she held out her hand, as it started to glow a light blue.

Suddenly all of Shouto's fears and anger began to slip away. So did his energy as he slowly laid on his side. Then y/n got to work on his bandages. Once she was finished she started to stroke Shoto's hair. Shouto didn't mind this as he leaned into it.

"There, that wasn't so bad, was it. Though you really need a bath,"  Y/n giggled slightly.

The bath was a whole new experience for Shoto. He could feel her massaging his muscles, and scrubbing deep into his dirty coat. He had never felt so relaxed in his life before. But after it, he never felt too fresh and clean before. As Y/n began to rub a dry towel on his head, and then down his body. Without even knowing he was slowly leaning onto y/n.

"Shouto... My name is Shouto," He finally answered.

"That's a lovely name," Y/n said as she continued to brush his hair and coat.

Y/n cleaned him up and left him to rest for the day. As Shouto laid down in pure bliss for the first time. He felt fresh and clean, with a full stomach for once.

"Maybe living with them a little longer wouldn't hurt," Shouto mumbled to himself.

------------------ x

Part.2 coming soon. I hope you liked it and have some requests for me. Soo sees you next time.

[lizzy-williams]

𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐭

🐺Warnings: Alpha/Omega dynamic, SMUTTTT, neediness, language, mature themes, dubcon?

🐺Masterlist

🐺Summary: Every Omega knows that going into heat is rough, especially when unclaimed. All eyes are on you. So when it hits you in the middle of a coffee shop with your friends, a particular alpha is very willing to help.  

🐺Theme (All I Need by Radiohead)

🐺A/N: Lol we gonna get dirtttyyyy. By the way, you’re small in his, like body proportion wise, like 5′4 small so there’s that. I know people want the ‘independent strong hardheaded alpha female’, but in this one ur compliant, sorry if ya don’t like it. There will most likely be a part 2 :)

“Y’know, I dunno how you drink that stuff,” Anna-Lynn said from across the table, making [ y / n ] roll her eyes and look up.

“You’re just jealous cause your tastebuds are weak,” she retorted, taking a teasingly long sip of her dark black coffee. 

It was nice having a day out like this. Especially when everyone seemed so busy with preparing for the spookiest holiday of the year. Paper bats and small pumpkins littered the store-fronts of London, the summer weather fading with the light chilly breezes autumn seemingly brought. 

The calm warm light streamed through the window of the coffee shop the three young women were in, the dusk just hitting them. The tree leaves complimented the light as it covered the area in a soft blanket of pink and orange hues. 

“So, um,” [ y / n ]’s other friend, Elizabeth, began to speak, clearing her throat and shooting a daring look at Anna-Lynn, “Have you thought about Ethan at all?”

Ah, yes, Ethan. He was Elizabeth’s younger cousin, just then turning 19, a simple beta with no claimed mate. 

[ y / n ] shook her head, and to this, the two girls let out a defeated huff, “You need to chose someone,” Anna-Lynn’s voice was clipped as she huffed, but it had a hint of concern. Worry even. 

And of course there was a stipulation to one of [ y / n ]’s favorite seasons. Because for her kind, not only was it autumn, but it was also mating season. A dangerous time for any omega unclaimed. If you were unclaimed when the time came around, you were easy pray, and other alphas and betas could smell you much much easier. 

You would become a target. Even more so if you were in heat. 

“I’m not worried about it.” [ y / n ] sighed, nonchalantly, taking a large gulp of her drink before setting it back down. But deep down she truly was.

“We just don’t want you to become like one of those other omegas... you know, getting claimed by someone on the street during their heat... someone they don’t love at all and being forced to have pups, it’s just barbaric.” Elizabeth glanced down at her dwindling hands. 

“I understand that. But I’ve had no issues with this before. I’ll just... lock myself up in my room with a vibrator and some porn. That’s worked before,”

“Bullshit, you were a grump for like a month because you had built up aggression. Ethan’s a good guy. You should really consider it.”

Yes, Ethan was nice. But when it came to [ y / n ]... she just felt as if they weren’t meant for each other. And there was no way that she would consider having pups with him and-

Speak of the mother fucking devil-

It was as if she was hit with a million bricks at once, her body becoming hot, a powerful wave of uncomfortable warmth crashing through her body like a tidal wave, her mouth clamping shut tightly. Her breath hitched, her thighs tightening around nothing, her legs shaking as she felt herself feel as if she were going to throw up. The moisture between her thighs was uncomfortable as she felt her panties stick to her mound.

How could she be so careless? Now she was in heat in public and she knew that nearby alphas and betas had already caught onto the scent, most likely heading their way. She knew it was roughly the time she would go into heat. And it was hell on earth right now, knowing that now that the sun was just now taking it’s last breaths over the tall buildings, the night heightening her kind’s senses acutely. 

Her friends caught on almost immediately, knowing the mannerisms of the heavy breathing and the quivering lips. Her eyes were wide as she bit down on her bottom lip harshly, trying her best to keep her whimpers and whines in the back of her throat. 

Thoughts raced through the young woman’s mind. Thoughts of her being taken in the most delicious ways possible by any man that just so happened to look her way. And her friends could tell that there were already at least a few alphas coming in hot, the sudden howling through the now darkened air making the 2 other girls’ senses hyperactive. 

What was ironic was that there was a conversation going on between two baristas behind the counter, “The dogs are at it again, they’ve been a lot noisier than usual.”

“We need to get her home, right now.” Anna-Lynn commanded, Elizabeth giving a chaste nod before flipping through her phone as a poor, squirming, [ y / n ] sat right across from them, panting in her intense discomfort. 

She shut her eyes tightly, desperately trying to ignore the ache in her core. She wanted, no, needed to be filled up. To be claimed. But the thoughts only drove her down deeper, desperation seemingly seeping out of every pore. 

As soon as she was called an Uber, it was an agonizing amount of time before it finally came to a stop, the driver flashing concerned looks at the poor squirming girl in her back seat. Throughout the whole ride, it took everything for [ y / n ] not to touch herself, and all she could do was shift her thighs together, and thankfully, (soon enough), the car came to a stop. 

[ y / n ] let out a strangled ‘thank you’ to the driver before getting out, and after the woman drove off, she found herself stumbling into an alleyway. Her whole body was on fire and she needed release, any release. 

Her back violently hit the brick wall of a darkened alleyway, her loud and labored breaths echoing through the seemingly empty face. She needed tension. At least a little bit. 

As if her legs weren’t her own, [ y / n ] spread her legs only a small amount, just enough to slip her hand under her pants and softly drifting her fingertips over her clothed clit. 

A smooth and controlled rubs soon turned into harsh and fast circles, her needful thoughts forcing her mind to tune out the howling that was getting closer and closer to her. It wasn’t until a low and terrifying growl resonated through the hollow space, making her stop in her tracks, yanking her hand out of its position, doing her best to stand up and steady herself. 

But it was far too late, because by the time she finally started bolting towards the opening in the cold alleyway, her body was caught and thrown against the frigid brick, a pitiful yelp leaving her lips, unleashed tears forming in her eyes. 

“You smell fucking delicious,” a dark voice spoke, no doubt an alpha, and [ y / n ] wouldn’t dare look up and meet his eyes. 

“P-Please, I c-can’t-”

[ y / n ] didn’t even know why she was saying please, for there were so many reasons she could be saying it. 

Please don’t.

Please help the pain.

Please touch me.

Please don’t touch me.

Please.

But the young woman’s thoughts were cut short by a violent tug to her hair, forcing her gaze on the person in from of her. He had bright red hair, freckles apparent, even in the dull light of the closed off space. He wore a jet black hoodie, and that was all that [ y / n ] bothered to take in. 

“You’re a pretty one...” his words rattled through her mind, muffled by the sharp ringing in her heat from the sudden contact to the wall only moments earlier, “Glad I claimed you before anyone else could,” he paused to chuckle to himself, “Would hate to touch damaged goods.”

[ y / n ] whimpered and almost recoiled away, but she knew better. This alpha seemed ill-tempered, and she didn’t want to find out what would happen if she dared to disobey. 

He gave a rough tug to her hair, standing her up, and immediately started to kiss her neck in hopes of warming her up a little bit more, not that she needed it, but nonetheless, his lips continued their assault on the young woman’s neck, whimpers and whines escaping her lips. 

“Just one little thing, pretty girl, you’re unclaimed, I can smell it on you.” he spoke before leaving a long, sinful lick up her throat, “I’m going to bite this pretty little neck and make sure that nobody else is going to touch what’s mine.”

The girl’s body shivered violently. He was talking about a claim mark. If that happened, she could never escape him, it was a tracking device. Where ever she decided to go, he would know exactly where she was. 

“Please, don’t, I-”

But a violent growl made her blood run cold and her words pause half-way up her throat. But it wasn’t from her captor. His head was already snapped towards the source of the sound, which was at the opening of the alleyway, the minimal light caused by the streetlight exposing a clothed figure with its hands in its pockets. They weren’t tall but they weren’t short, but their stature was confident. 

Great. Another alpha.

“Drop her.” the voice spoke, straight to the point and commanding. 

“Fuck off, she’s mine, I got to her first.” the ginger male snapped, his eyes now a vibrant scorching gold, shining in the darkness. 

“Drop the fucking girl or I’ll rip you’re fucking head off.” this time it was a vicious growl, strong and unwavering that sent goosebumps down [ y / n ]’s spine. 

“That a challenge, pint-size?” the ginger taunted, referring to the other alpha who only stood at a good 5′8, while he stood at a large 6′1, slamming the girl onto the ground making her yelp out in pain.

Finally, the young alpha stepped into some form of light, making his face visible, and the ginger’s expression of defense faded into a face of fear and regret, the eyes that once glowed yellow dying down to it’s original color. 

“T-Tom, Jesus, man, excuse me, I didn’t-”

The alpha, apparently named Tom, harshly grabbed the ginger’s shirt, pulling him in and looking up at him with deadly eyes, “Leave.”

And just like that, he was gone, and hopefully never going to be seen again. 

Tom’s expression turned soft when he saw the poor writhing omega in a mound on the hard concrete of the ground, small whimpers of discomfort making his chest clench. 

“You live here?” he questioned, motioning to the building she was now leaned against. 

All she could to was let out a whine of confirmation, nodding her head slowly as she clamped her thighs together as tightly as possible. 

“Come on then, can’t have you out in the open, there’s already talk, let’s get you inside,” he said, kindness and understanding in his tone, holding out a hand to [ y / n ], who in turn took it almost immediately. 

It took her a second to walk, her knees weak, not to mention it was hard not to notice Tom’s muscles, and his face. God, he was truly attractive. 

She let her mind wonder as they began to walk, his arm firmly around her waist, trying to keep her steady. She wondered what it would look like when he came, filling her up to the brim, making her full, a thin blanket of sweat covering his body, his eyes glowing, hungry, and she let out a whimper at it. 

“You’re staring.” Tom smirked as they stepped into the elevator of the complex. 

“S-Sorry,” she muttered, trying to shake the embarrassingly dirty thoughts from her mind as she continued to try and focus on just getting to her apartment. 

The sooner she got there, the sooner she had her vibrator, the sooner she had release. She was convinced, at least, that that would solve her problems, at least temporarily. 

She led him to her apartment, still holding onto him for dear life as her core throbbed with need and want. When the door unlocked with a small click, she turned the doorknob, almost collapsing through the doorway. 

“Do you need any help?”

This could have meant many things. But of course, [ y / n ] was oblivious in her response. 

“N-No, I think I can manage to put myself to bed.”

Tom gave a small chuckle as he sat her down on the couch, sitting next to her as she slouched back, “No, I mean I can help with your problem... that is, if you want me to,”

[ y / n ]’s mind was clouded in a haze of neediness, so with no hesitation, she whimpered a small yes, before immediately unbuttoning her jeans and slipping them down a little bit to eagerly. 

She knew this was happening to quick, almost irrationally quick, but the need in her pounding cunt was much more important to her at the moment than her petty morals and reason. 

“Are you sure?” he looked at her with sincerity, watching as she shifted out of her pants and took his hand, placing it on her covered mound. 

“Please, just touch me, Tom,”

Hearing his name on her lips was almost enough to make him lose his control and say ‘fuck it’, but he figured that if her were to do this, he might as well try to do this right. 

“Don’t have to tell me twice, darling,” he muttered, easily finding her sensitive bud, even through the material of her panties.

She let out a soft and breathy moan, taking her hand of his own and moving it to his bicep, squeezing, as if it were anchoring her down to Earth, because she had never been touched like this, especially by someone else. 

As if Tom had read her mind, he looked up at her, drinking in her reactions before speaking, “Are you a virgin?”

She nodded her head, his pace never faltering. 

“I’ve been waiting- ugnh - for the right person... I trust you,” she managed to get out between moans.

“You barely know me,”

“But I want to. There’s - ah, fuck - something about you. I l-like you,” she admitted, the filter between her mouth and her brain nonexistent as she felt nothing but pleasure and a release from the uncomfortable pressure she was feeling only moments before. 

“Fuck,” to Tom, it was nice to hear that somebody needed him, trusted him, especially with something like this, so sacred and meaningful. She was giving him the gift that could only be given once, and he was happy to receive. 

After a few moments of him rubbing her in all the right ways, he hesitantly pulled his hand away from her, hating the noise of protest that she released. 

“Come on, princess, let’s take this to you're bedroom, yeah?”

[ y / n ] was compliant to his suggestion, standing up best she could without Tom’s help, but soon leaning on him as she directed him to her bedroom door. 

The door was busted open, and she was thrown onto the bed, and as soon as she hit the mattress, she stripped off everything else, leaving her completely nude, and her actions inspired Tom to do the same. 

He quickly got on top of her, grinding the length of his cock against her soaking wet folds, making him growl. 

“Fuck, darling, I’m not even inside you yet and you feel heavenly-” he hissed, the little omega nodding in response. 

“Alpha, please, I need you inside me, I want you to fill me,” she desperately pleaded. 

Tom let out a feral snarl at the use of the word ‘alpha’, surprised it had so much of an effect on him being used like this. It was so fucking hot. She had him wrapped so tightly around her pinky and didn’t even know it. 

“Anything for you, darling,” he muttered, lining himself up and ever so slowly easing himself inside his new mate, a pained whimper escaping her, his cock seemingly splitting her in half. 

Tom finally remembered that she was a virgin. And that made him even harder inside her. He waited for him, for her mate, while he was out fucking every omega that crossed him. But with her, she wasn’t just an omega. And he wanted to prove it to her. 

He took his time, almost cockwarming, staying still inside of her as her body naturally adjusted to his size, feeling so close to each other, it was enough for the two of them to almost fall in love right then and there. Tom finally took in how perfect she was to him. Someone he knew he wanted to keep around in the long run. Someone he knew he wanted to protect, even when she didn’t need protection. 

[ y / n ] scratched up his back, signaling that she was ready, and confident that he could move with little to no discomfort from her. 

The alpha started to move his hips, her tight cunt making his eyes roll back in his skull as he dropped his head into the crook of her neck, leaving soft and reassuring kisses to her neck as she made the most delectable noises, making him addicted, almost like his own brand of opioid. 

“So fucking tight, princess, you feel like fucking paradise,” he praised as he drank up the omega’s reactions as she experienced her first time with him. 

She’s like this for me and only me.

Her face was scrunched adorably in pleasure, her eyes shut tight as she felt the moment, his skin under her finger tips, the burning that was set in her core easing as she finally had pleasurable relief. Like getting a refreshing drink on a particularly hot day. 

Tom couldn’t help himself, and as if his body wasn’t his own, primal instinct took over as he began to make his strides harder and quicker, making the most pathetically cute noises release from her mouth. 

“You like that, darling?” he panted licking and sucking her neck, making one of her tiny hands weaving itself though his chestnut curls, “Why did I bother asking, of course you do. You love it when your alpha fucks you.”

All she could do was nod her head as she felt a coil inside her tighten. Tom felt his cock inflate as he continued to drive into her, pounding her into the mattress as he growled praises into her neck, her moans and whimpers never stopping. 

Soon the praise turned into a single word, falling out of his mouth like a prayer, even though what they were doing was the farthest thing from holy. 

Mine. Mine. Mine.

The omega could take it anymore, whimpering out, “P-Please, I... want you to b-bite me. Please, I need you to claim me,” she begged, which made his assault on her cunt falter slightly, slowing down to a calm and intimate pace. 

He knew what that meant. When an alpha bites an omega, she’s claimed. It means that nobody can touch her. Almost like an unbroken bond between two of their kind, and it meant a lot. 

And though they had just met only a half an hour prior, he knew that she was special, and he knew that this was who he was meant to be with, and his heart swelled at the thought of getting to know her inside and out. A true connection. 

“You want me to claim you, huh?” he paused his movements, [ y / n ] nodding frantically, wanting more than anything, “I’m not going to go easy on you. I want you to feel nothing but you inside me while I claim you, nothing but rapture as I claim you as mine.”

[ y / n ] nodded once again, to while Tom protested, “Words, darling,” 

“Yes, alpha, I understand, I- OH FUCK-,” she yelled out. And she thought he was going hard before, but that was nothing compared to the pleasure she was now presented with, his cock properly railing into her as he left a long and sinful lick up her neck before taking a bite, his eyes glowing a bright fluorescent gold as she let out one of the most pornographic moans she had ever heard. 

The copper taste in his mouth tasted like candy, and home, the sweet substance covering his lips as he finally pulled back, knowing that she was close. 

And close she was. She was so close to release she could almost taste it, and god did it taste good. Without warning, the coil inside her snapped, making her vision cloud, her thoughts unable to collect themselves as her vision clouded, and she swore she blacked out for a second. 

She was so overcome with pleasure, she didn’t notice that he had cum himself, the sensation of him pulling out and his cum spill out of her enough to get her riled up enough. But if what just happened didn’t vanquish the heat she was experiencing before, God only knew what would. 

Tom stepped back, taking in the sight of his new mate, completely fucked out and covered with marks, his cum dripping out of her like a faucet. He wished for this image to be branded into his mind so he could see it every time he closed his eyes. 

“Absolutely stunning.” he praised, his hands now running up and down her thighs. 

[ y / n ] was finally Tom’s, inside and out, and Tom couldn’t be more proud. 

“Let’s get you cleaned up, love, yeah?”

The morning was soft and filled with nothing but admiration to each other, the two staying in bed most of the morning until they finally went to the omega’s kitchen to make breakfast/lunch.

[ y / n ] was cooking the bacon and eggs when she suddenly felt arms wrap around her from behind, a chin resting on her shoulder. 

“How’re you holding up?” he questioned, and it make [ y / n ] blush at how considerate she was about her state, his fingertips dragging lightly over the violent-looking bite mark on her neck.

“I’m absolutely perfect,” she smiled, “Feels nice to belong to someone.”

“You know what? I was thinking the exact same thing.”

And for once, the two of them were truly excited for the future. 

[ironmandeficiency]

that’s not a shirt

pairing: marcus pike / reader

word count: 1584

summary: marcus comes home from work & finds the strangest thing in the laundry.

a/n: for @autumnleaves1991-blog and her wednesday writing challenge! writing domestic marcus pike is my therapy. unbeta’d and posted from mobile (honestly my laptop is becoming less convenient to post from even tho posting fic on tumblr is literally the reason i bought it last year)

three long, miserable weeks. that’s how long marcus has been out of town for a case that had him jetting all across the country, far away from you and your comfortable bed. he’s almost never at the apartment he pays rent for every month. most of his clothes and his favorite pillow are at your place, and the small quilt his grandmother sewed decades ago is draped over the back of your couch. in everything but name, he lived with you.

when he entered your apartment with his key, he took note of the fact you weren’t there and got set to cleaning up a bit. work leaves you exhausted more often than not and he doesn’t want to leave everything undone for you to worry about when you get home.

upon first glance, he could see the laundry was half done. a heaping load of clean clothes was in the hamper in front of the dryer and there were wet clothes in the open washer. when he looked further, there was also a load in the dryer, which told him that you stayed up late to get things done then fell asleep on the couch waiting for the dryer to finish. with a fond smile, he started the dryer for a few minutes to get wrinkles out of what’s in there. when those are done, he can get what’s in the hamper unwrinkled and hung and folded.

dinner was next on the to-do list. something nourishing to welcome you home after a long day but simple enough to do while catching up the clothes: spaghetti. there’s something about his mom’s recipe for the sauce that makes his spaghetti absolutely heavenly — your words, not his — and he can’t wait to see your reaction to having marcus home two days earlier than planned along with his best dish.

in the time it takes him to get the sauce cooking and the water boiling on the stove, the dryer announces that it’s finished with the first load. he hums as he folds the bath towels and dish rags without a care in the world, making the trip to stow them in the bathroom cabinet with a spring to his step.

checks the sauce for flavor and consistency before putting the second load of wrinkled clothes in the dryer, finding it needs just a smidge more rosemary before it can be left to simmer. picks another sprig from the plant you keep on the windowsill and cuts the leaves very fine before sprinkling them in with a flick of his wrist.

satisfied with his efforts, he turns back to the laundry. he dutifully empties the lint filter (you’re adamant on emptying it after every load and the trait passed onto him) before he begins to grab things to toss into the dryer. about a third of the way through the basket, his hand grabbed onto something weirdly solid and plump.

“mroww!”

last marcus checked, shirts don’t make noises like that. he tore his gaze from the inside of the dryer to the hamper to find a grey and white kitten lounging in the hamper. the little thing was nudging his hand with their head, clearly wanting the attention of the man slowly depleting its bed. he was perplexed. you didn’t have a cat when he was last here, but there was one seeming to be perfectly content in making itself at home in your apartment.

“where did you come from?” he knew the cat wasn’t going to give him a coherent answer but he felt the need to voice his confusion anyway. the first thing to do now: check to see if it’s male or female. it’s a female, looks to be about three months old and is perfectly content with being handled by marcus.

marcus can’t recall the last time he had a pet. with him being too busy with work, he never thought it would be fair to a pet to have an owner constantly gone. he didn’t have enough stability in the past with where he lived and didn’t want to only be a half ass pet parent. the past several months, however, have been nothing but stable. not counting the seldom out of town cases, he goes to work in the morning and comes home to you in the evening, and he rinses and repeats as needed. maybe this kitten is the perfect prelude to taking the next big step in his relationship with you.

for now though, marcus doesn’t let himself get carried away with his daydreams about living with you full time. he’s got laundry to finish and dinner to cook, and now he has a sous chef to accompany him. he holds the kitten to his chest, scratching her chin with a hooked finger and melting at the way she looks up as if telling him to keep going. “alright sweet girl, let’s finish up dinner.” a soft “mrrow!” is her reply and it makes marcus huff a quiet laugh.

dinner is completed with marcus using one less hand than normal, his sous chef being fabulous company. the few times he had to use both hands, his feline friend perched on his shoulder (which he thought was the best thing ever) and waited to be held again. however this cat got here, marcus didn’t know; the one thing he did know is that it wasn’t leaving anytime soon.

the front door was unlocked when you came home and you knew with absolute certainty that you locked it before you left. your walmart bags filled with cat supplies were immediately dropped to the hallway floor as you began to inspect your front door and the area around it. marcus taught you how to spot the basic signs of forced entry (like the protective sweetheart he is) and when none of them were there, you cautiously entered your apartment, mace in hand.

the adrenaline washed away when you spotted your loving boyfriend in the kitchen, gently bobbing his head along to whatever music he had playing. one hand was stirring a pot on the stove while the other was plenty preoccupied with the kitten. shit, you forgot to warn him about the kitten before he got home!

this was the last thing you thought would be here to greet you, but it was a very welcome sight; the feline was finicky and marcus wasn’t due home for another few days, a double whammy. “i see you’ve met the kitten.” you’re honestly just thankful he didn’t get upset about the little thing. neither of you have talked about pets or whatever your living situation is becoming, so the way he seems so taken with the kitten is a sign pointing in a great direction.

when he hears your voice, marcus visibly lights up. “hi honey!” the hand with the spoon immediately drops the wooden utensil into the pot and waves at you happily. “this is my sous chef, say hello, pasta!” he grabs one of her little paws and waves it at you before resuming his stirring, a beaming smile on his face.

did he really just name the cat pasta? and how in the world is she so calm with him right now?

you found the kitten, now known as pasta, huddled in a cardboard box beside a gas station dumpster headed home from work. she was mewling her little head off back there and you were lucky enough to hear her. taking her and her box, your list of things to do was thrown out the window as you rushed her to the vet. they cleaned her up real good and schedule her vaccinations, and sent you home with a list of supplies to buy and advice on how to take care of the little thing.

she was pissed at you after the vet trip. didn’t let you pet or hold her unless she was in the mood for it and if you tried to pick her up otherwise, she would scatter and give you a glare from a safe distance away. but here was marcus holding her like a baby, and the little brat was eating it up! to be fair, you were the same way with marcus when he was being affectionate so you didn’t completely blame her.

“why pasta?” you knew that cats were more likely than dogs to have strange names. you just didn’t think your boyfriend would be the type to give a cat a name like pasta. at that rate, you might as well name a dog goose and call it a day.

he smiles at the furball, giving her a few affectionate pets while he talks. “i was cooking spaghetti when i found her in the laundry hamper, and then i noticed a little spot right on her hip that looks like penne. i couldn’t choose between the two so i went for the middle ground. is that okay with you? or did she have another-”

“marcus, i love it.” and you really do; that sentimental dork just made you love the name pasta with nothing but two sentences. “and honestly, i’ve just been rotating between baby girl, squeak toy, and dumbass since i found her the day before yesterday.”

he scratches pasta under her chin as he laughs at the thought of you calling his sous chef a dumbass. “pasta is not a dumbass! you tell ‘em sweetheart, tell them how smart you are!”

“mroww!”

“see? she’ll be the next einstein.”

marcus pike taglist: @likeshootingstarsinthenightsky @obirain @themarcusmoreno @catsnkooks @torradoza @stardustsunrisekisses @darthadeline @max--phillips @jedi-mando @darklingveracruz @andysficrecs @pedropasscals @qhbr2013 @seasonschange-butpeopledont @greeneyedblondie44 @princess76179 @kaermorons @lv7867 @whovianwar @purelypascal