#at least until now you weren’t hearing anything until 10 which is the latest they are allowed

[yoohyeon]

I feel like a Karen, I heard music in the hallways which is not allowed at this hour and I think it’s above so if we tell the landlord they will be force to move 🙃

[teacupfulofstarshine]

LOVELY, DARK, AND DEEP CHAPTER 10

PLEASE HEED THE CONTENT WARNINGS!!! this chapter features Evil Scientist Lady and her Fucked Up WorldView a LOT, and there are also some Major Plot Events that involve Violence. i will put a summary in the end notes if you decide at any point that this particular chapter is too much - that's super valid! i will also mention here that no main characters are going to die in this story and no one dies in this chapter either.

huge huge thanks to @flamingfawkes for beta’ing!

CW: extreme disregard for human life, mentioned human and animal cruelty, toxic workplace environment, violence (both imagined and actual, mildly graphic), gun mention, minor blood, death threats, extremely unethical character, unethical science, stalking

chapter 1 // chapter 2 // chapter 3 // chapter 4 // chapter 5 // chapter 6 // chapter 7 // chapter 8 // chapter 9 // read it on ao3!

“This is the same result we’ve gotten the last twenty times -”

“I don’t care, Steven, run it again!”

Steven sighs, punching at the keyboard to run the statistical analysis sequence again. “This is ridiculous! I’ve run this sequence so many times it feels like my eyes are going to bleed. Why can’t we just turn in the results we have and -”

“Because she’ll behead us,” James snaps, “and then she’ll destroy our reputations and our families and they’ll get no severance. I have three young children at home, Steven, I need this money.” Steven softens a little, fingers running smoothly over the keys as he combs the data again. Next to him, James has a computer screen full of frame-by-frame stills of what little data they recovered from the probe before it was destroyed; Penny across the room is surrounded by ancient texts a mile high and at least three laptops.

“Why is she so interested in this, anyway?”

“It’s beyond me. Since when do we question the whims of what we’re told to do?”

Steven squints at the screen, pushing his chair back and rubbing at his eyes. “If I have to stare at these numbers for one more second, my brain is going to explode. I feel like my eyeballs are going to melt out of my skull. I wanna scream.”

James pulls up another image, staring at the blurry image of the merman before him. Steven pushes away from his own screen and squints at James’s. The merman in the photo looks young, not much older than his kid brother, but they don’t know anything about the lifespan of these creatures. He looks confused, squinting at the camera. As James flicks through the stills, the merman transitions from confused to angry to enraged, and then he attacks.

“He’s not happy about the camera.”

“Would you be happy about someone spying on you and your family?” James says, switching to the next still.

“I wouldn’t be happy if I thought someone was doing anything we do in this lab to me or my family.” James elbows Steven, but luckily no one else seems to have heard.

“This lab isn’t the most ethical place I’ve ever worked, but it pays the bills,” James mutters. “And we’re not even in the experimentation lab. We just do data analysis. We’re removed from the situation.”

Are we? Steven wonders. He sees James reach out and touch the framed picture of his daughters, and keeps his mouth shut. He turns back to his computer, watching the little spinning color wheel of his mouse as the program calculates the same numbers again and again. The results come up identical to the previous ones, and Steven clicks “Run Program” again wordlessly.

They work in silence for a while, the three of them, broken only by James’s muttering and the occasional thud of one of Penny’s books and the clicks of keyboards and mice. If they weren’t so reliant on technology, Steven thinks, there would be an enormous corkboard spanning three of the four walls, covered in pushpins and handwriting and red string connecting images. He debates actually building one, if only to increase the levity in the room, but decides against it.

He’s seen people punished or fired or who-knows-what-else for far less, after all.

Instead, after his program tells him for the twenty-third time that his results are the same (and didn’t someone say insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results?), Steven scrubs at his eyes with the heels of his palms and opens the data entry window. Maybe the problem with the results has to do with the entry of the data; did he input something wrong? It’s possible . . .

Here he goes again, he supposes. He stands up, stretches, and leans back to crack some vertebrae. “I’m gonna grab a coffee, take a short screen break, and go back to the beginning. Maybe there’s something in the input that I missed. You want anything?”

James groans, thunking his head against the desk. “I want something with enough caffeine to kill three elephants, please.” Steven nods, looking over at Penny. She shakes her head, and he heads for the shitty coffee machine a few doors down.

Several floors below, a young woman pulls her lab goggles up to rest on top of her head with her perfectly-pinned protocol-compliant bun. “The latest round of tests is completely done, ma’am. I think you’ll find the efficacy . . . striking.”

She takes the clipboard, glossy perfectly-painted nails pinching the sheets of thin paper and flicking between them. “I’m afraid I don’t do so well with the scientific side of things - Kathleen, was it? Explain this to me, would you?”

“Certainly, ma’am. As you know, the kill time for the most effective neurotoxin currently available, tetrodotoxin, varies from thirty minutes to four hours. Average time for symptoms to manifest is seventeen minutes, and from there the symptoms progress through tingling of the lips and tongue, headache, vomiting, muscle weakness, ataxia, et cetera. Death occurs as a result of respiratory or heart failure, and the poison is nearly undetectable if you do not specifically test for it.”

“The untraceability is a plus, but that is far too wide a range of times, and too slow a time even at its fastest.”

“Of course, ma’am, but as far as naturally-occurring marine poisons go - actually, as far as naturally-occurring poisons go, full stop - it is the most effective. Until now, that is.”

“Oh? What are your findings?”

“Which trials would you like to start with, ma’am?”

“The human trials, Kathleen. The only ones that matter. I hardly intend to go around killing mice and hoping that no one traces their deaths to a novel neurotoxin.” She laughs airily, and Kathleen nods along.

“Certainly, ma’am. The most recent data points indicate an average efficacy time of thirteen minutes for our compound neurotoxin, with a full range between nine and seventeen minutes passing before subject death. Subjects began to show symptoms around five minutes, give or take twenty-five seconds.”

“And those symptoms were?”

Kathleen flips through the document. “Seizures, vital organ failure, blindness, painful muscle spasms, suffocation from the inside out.”

She hums, tapping a manicured finger against the report. “Well, Kathleen, that is certainly impressive, especially for a preliminary human subject trial. These results . . . I must say, they are not nearly as disappointing as I anticipated when I came down here.”

“Ma’am?”

“How long have you worked for this company, Kathleen?”

“Almost five years, ma’am, but I’ve always been an assistant. This is my first time as lead researcher and biochemist on a project, ever since you . . . laid off the previous lead researcher.”

“Kathleen, let me be frank. These results are not what I hoped for. The efficacy time and symptom onset times are both far too long for my liking, and the range of efficacy time is too broad. By all accounts, I should consider this a failure.” Kathleen swallows, but remains poised. “However, you’ve managed to shave off a considerable amount of time from the tetrodotoxin readings. The range of symptom onset time is an acceptable breadth, and your results are far beyond anything your predecessor ever accomplished for me. This is truly impressive, all things considered.”

“Thank you, ma’am. How should I proceed?”

“I want the efficacy doubled - tripled - I want it upped by anywhere between four and five hundred percent. I want the pain increased, too. Feel free to increase your requests for test subjects, but get me the results I want. You said the original tetrodotoxin was untraceable?”

“That’s correct, ma’am.”

“Can you keep that feature intact?”

“As of right now, it is intact, ma’am. I will endeavor to keep it so in future experiments.”

“That’s what I like to hear. Welcome to your new position as head of this research division. Don’t let me down.” She holds out a slender hand, and Kathleen takes it, trying not to seem too eager.

“I won’t, ma’am.”

“How soon can you start this experiment up again?”

“The cleaners should be finished by tomorrow morning, ma’am, and I can tweak chemical formulas until then.”

“Excellent.” Her watch beeps, and she lifts it, pursing her bright lips as she examines the message she’s just received. “If you’ll excuse me, I have another matter to attend to. Someone will drop off your master access key for Lab Three within the hour.”

She steps into the elevator and lifts her watch up to her face, swiping through the messages from her secretary. One finger reaches out to press the button for the digital analysis labs floor, and the other taps away at her watch.

When she steps off the elevator, her secretary is waiting. “Ma’am.”

“What do they have for me?”

“Unclear. They said it was something they wanted to report directly to you and you alone, but it seems to be something big.”

“Hopefully it’s a big step in the right direction, or they’ll be taking a big step out of a job.” She relishes in the way the employees she passes all unfailingly flinch and then snap to perfect attention when they hear the sharp echo of her heels against the floor. She lifts her head and walks faster, striking the tiles with her heels like a gavel, sharp and precise against a judge’s desk.

The computer labs are disorganized when she enters, but there is a string of promising-looking numbers on the main display monitor. There is a woman surrounded by books and a man pulling up photos on his computer, and there is a third man standing in front of her like a toy soldier. She focuses on that one.

“I hear you have news for me? Make it swift, and make it good.”

He swallows, hard, and her eyes idly trace the line of his throat. If he disappoints her, perhaps she will drive her heel through it, to make an example of him. That would be far too messy; perhaps his dominant hand will do.

“I have narrowed down the location of the missing net, ma’am. I believe it to have washed up somewhere around these general GPS coordinates.” He fiddles with a remote in his hand, and the image on the screen changes. It shows an aerial satellite view of a secluded strip of beach, framed by rocky cliffs with larger rocks studded out into the open water. “It should have washed up somewhere in this one-point-three-seven-mile strip of beach. The whole area is property of one Doctor Thomas Sanders.”

She snarls. “That man. He won’t let us on that beach willingly until hell freezes over.”

The other man, the one scanning through photo stills and video footage, jumps up, knocking his chair backwards. “I found something!”

She turns towards him, and his excitement freezes and sputters into something much more controlled and terrified. “Show me.” He clicks something and pulls up video footage from one of their surveillance drones, zooming in on a particular patch of ocean along the stretch of Sanders’ beach. Her eyes widen when she sees what he’d noticed - a hump of red-and-white tail arcing above the waves before a pattern of ripples streaks off towards the cliff. He pauses the footage, rewinds it, uses a laser pointer to show an opening concealed in the cliff face.

“There’s some kind of grotto in there, hidden by the cliff. It’s on Sanders’ property, he has to know it’s there. And it looks like the merman from the destroyed drone knows it’s there too. Which means -”

“That must be where he’s keeping them.” Something burns in her chest, brilliant and terrifying and all-encapsulating, like wildfire. “We’ve found them, at long last.”

“What would you have me do?” her secretary asks. “I can arrange for a recovery squad at your earliest possible convenience, ma’am.”

“Assemble the squad, but do not have them move out. They will wait for my orders. When they go, you are to go with them.” Her secretary nods, once, sharp and sure. “Dispatch a crew to Lab One and clear it out. I want it prepped for containment, vivisection, chemical tests - the works. Get at least three tanks set up and one strap-down human table.”

“A human table, ma’am?”

“Yes. We have to deal with Sanders once and for all to ensure that he does not ruin any future experiments.”

“Will we be taking him as well?”

She hums thoughtfully. “No. Pull up the file we have on his known associate?”

A few swift clicks and flicks and a photo appears on the large screen: a young man with brown-and-purple hair, sleeves rolled up, carefully lowering a perfectly viable specimen into the ocean and letting it go, like some kind of fool. “His doctoral student, ma’am. The longest one he’s ever kept - this one has been with him a few years.”

“Excellent. When you raid the lab, take him.”

“Should we kill Sanders?”

“No. Rough him up a little, but leave him alive. Taking his protégé and leaving him alone, helpless to rescue him, will be the highest form of torture for such an insufferable person. The agony will eat him alive until his dying day.”

Her secretary nods, taking the notes down dutifully. The other employees look vaguely horrified, but she pays them no mind. No sacrifice is too great to be made in the name of progress, and anyone who thinks otherwise is a weakling who will never get anywhere in life.

She refuses to be one of those weaklings.

*~*~*~*~*

Logan wakes up confused.

He’s warm, warmer than he thinks he’s ever been in his whole life. When he stirs, he moves farther than he meant to - he must not be underwater. That’s enough to send a jolt of concern through his sleep-addled brain. Why isn’t he underwater? Why was he sleeping if he was above the surface? There’s no way his dad is here, and Roman hates surfacing, where are they? Where is he? But he’s so comfortable . . .

Someone shifts beside him, an arm draping across his waist, and Logan forces his eyes open. He shifts his lower half, confused when two things move instead of one, and there are layers upon layers of thin, flat, soft things wrapping around him. What is happening?

Slowly, slowly, his mind clears, and he remembers the events of last night. He grew legs - he was a human, once, before he was mer - he couldn’t sleep underwater with Dad and Roman - Virgil was teaching him to walk - Virgil put “clothes” on him - Virgil was embarrassed that he didn’t have those “clothes” on him - Virgil took him out of the lab to sleep - Virgil agreed to cuddle him since his pod couldn’t -

Logan feels the strange burning in his face again as he shifts. He can’t see well in this new human form, but when things are close enough to his face they’re relatively clear. And Virgil, still sleeping, is close enough that Logan can smell him - he smells like salt water mixed with something sharp and something sweet and something else that Logan can’t quite identify but finds addicting nonetheless. Sunlight streams in and pools around Virgil’s face, illuminating the tangled mess of hair spread around him and flopping into his face, the small puddle of water leaking out from his open mouth onto the soft thing he’s resting his head on, the way his chest moves slowly with every breath. His arm is wrapped around Logan, pulling him close. Logan thinks he might explode if he focuses on this any more, so he rolls from his side to his back as carefully as he can, not wanting to wake Virgil. Virgil tightens his arm around Logan and mutters something indecipherable in his sleep, but he doesn’t wake.

Rather than focusing on his very confusing feelings for the very pretty man next to him, Logan focuses on what he can see of the room around him. He makes a list in his mind of things that he plans to ask Virgil about later today, including:

1: There are many draws attached to the small, smooth cliffs surrounding them. How do they stay there?

2: There are lots of “clothes” scattered all around the floor, and there were several on the bed, too. Is that normal for humans?

3: Last night, Virgil did something that made the room light up with trapped sunlight! How did he do that?

4: How did Virgil get ice to stay in those big frozen sheets in such a warm place to let the sunlight in?

5: How did Virgil make ice into that weird shape that he filled with water and drank last night?

6: How did Virgil get the water to come into this place?

7: Do all humans have a specific area set aside for sleeping? Logan and his pod usually just sleep wherever they can, but Virgil seems to have this soft slab set aside with all of these soft things to be comfortable and sleep in every night. Is this a Human Thing or strictly a Virgil Thing?

Logan looks out through the sheet of ice that protects Virgil’s area from the outside and gasps. He can’t see well, but there’s a glittering expanse of blue that shifts and moves and oh, is that the ocean?

He’s spent his whole life (well, his whole remembered life, anyways) in the ocean, and he’s seen some truly wondrous things. He travels around the world with his pod, he knows the ocean is big, but seeing it spread out like this is . . . awe-inspiring. Logan has never seen the ocean like this, and now that he has he doesn’t think he can ever not see it like this again. It’s like a perfect sheet of sea-glass, rippling and unbroken but dynamic in a way that he never really gets a sense of when he’s beneath it.

He knows that there are waves, of course. There are smaller swells out on the open ocean, and larger ones when the Second Goddess dips her fingers down from the Upper Ocean and swirls the storms to a thundering burst. There are waves along the shoreline, ones that he frolics in with Roman and batter him against the shoreline. There are waves created when he or his pod members surface. But watching the movement of the ocean from up here is . . .

Even with his imperfect vision, he is completely at a loss for words as he stares at the ocean.

Eventually, Virgil stirs next to him, and Logan turns away from the ocean to stare at him. Virgil is close to him, arms wrapped tightly around him, face pressed against him. Logan’s eyesight is not great, but Virgil is close enough that he can pick out little details of his face. There are brown face scales scattered all over him, but they seem to cluster on his nose and his cheeks. Logan has wanted to touch them for a substantial amount of time, and he can’t stop himself from gently settling the tips of his fingers over Virgil’s cheek.

His face doesn’t feel like Logan was expecting. The scales don’t give texture to his face the way that Logan’s do; the skin is smooth and flat. There are little bumps all over, but the brown scales aren’t raised off the skin like Logan expected. He lets his fingers trail along Virgil’s face. His bone structure seems to be exceedingly similar to Logan’s, at least in regards to his head. Logan’s finger rests gently on the curve of bone under Virgil’s eye, and Virgil exhales warm breath onto his palm.

Logan wonders what it would be like to have this for longer than just his recovery period. He wonders what it would be like to wake up next to Virgil all the time, to get to run his hands over Virgil’s face and arms and chest and examine the differences between their anatomy. He wonders what it would be like to learn to walk without falling over, and he feels a sharp, unexpected twinge in his chest as he realizes that getting better at walking means no more closeness to Virgil.

His chest feels strange, like there’s a school of small fish swarming around and tickling his insides and making him feel all foamy, like the froth churned up by a windswept sea. He feels like he does when he’s underwater - free, weightless, mobile, limited by nothing except his own imagination. He feels unstoppable.

Virgil makes a sudden, sharp inhale, blinking his eyes open slowly. Logan thinks that, perhaps, he might not appreciate being studied unknowingly - he hadn’t appreciated Virgil doing it, before he understood what was happening, when all he knew was the loss of his pod aching like a scraped-out seashell. As Virgil wakes up, Logan shifts, turning his gaze to the rest of the room.

Virgil makes a sleepy grumbling noise, opening one eye. Logan chances another quick glance at him, and when his eye slides open Logan is struck by its beauty. He doesn’t get much of a chance to admire it, however, before Virgil is jolting backwards like Logan’s struck him with lightning. Logan is confused, reaching out and gently touching his shoulder. “Virgil?”

“Wassat?! Wait . . . L’gan?”

“It is me,” Logan says softly. “Are - are you upset with me?”

Virgil yawns, jaw dropping to his chest, revealing a flash of teeth and a soft pink tongue. (Logan wants to lick it. Why does Logan want to lick it? Why is Logan thinking about Virgil’s tongue licking his tongue - why is Logan thinking about Virgil - what in the Seven Oceans is happening to him.) “Wh - no, no, ‘m okay, I just - woke up, forgot I had you with me, got confused about another person in my bed.” Before Logan can start to feel bad, Virgil adds, “S’okay if it’s you, though,” and the foamy, floaty feeling is back.

“Did you sleep well?”

Virgil laughs, low and rumbling, and Logan can feel it in his fingers where he touches Virgil’s skin. “I never sleep well.” He sits up, and the fabric of his pajamas shifts to let Logan see stretches of soft, supple skin that he usually doesn’t. Logan wants to touch it. He very determinedly keeps his hand on Virgil’s shoulder. “Gotta admit, though, last night was . . . better than usual.”

This appears to be the point where Virgil first notices their position - pressed together, arm slung over Logan, basically cuddling the way that Logan normally would with his pod. (No tangle with his pod has ever felt this . . . electric, this charged, this important to Logan before.) His face flares a brilliant red, and he shifts like he wants to move away but -

“I’m sorry,” Virgil says. “Am I making you uncomfortable?”

“No!” Logan blurts out. Virgil blinks at him a little, and maybe he was a little overly enthusiastic, but - “I sleep in a tangle with Dad and Roman all the time. I have extreme difficulty sleeping without contact with someone else. It . . . helped me greatly.”

“Oh,” Virgil says, face turning redder still, smiling shyly. “That - makes me feel better. Thanks, Lo.”

Logan smiles, and Virgil smiles too, reaching up to gently move a piece of hair away from his face. Logan thinks that, as far as deaths go, his chest exploding (which seems to be getting more and more likely every fifteen seconds he spends in Virgil’s presence, only accelerated by all this skin-on-skin contact they’re having right now) seems to be the most pleasurable.

Virgil opens his mouth to say something, but whatever it was is interrupted by a Ping! noise from across the room. “What is that?” Logan asks. Virgil, sadly, untangles himself from Logan and the blankets, sliding out of bed and heading over to one of the other structures in the room (what did he call it last night? Dex?) and picking up a flat glowing rectangle.

“Is everything alright?”

“What? Yeah, yeah, I - Thomas sent me a text, it’s a little weird.”

“What is a text?”

“It’s a kind of human messaging system, it allows us to communicate when we’re far away from each other.”

“Like a pod call?” “Kind of? I’ll explain more later, I promise, I just - I gotta go down to the lab real quick.”

“I’ll come with -”

“No!” Virgil snaps. Logan flinches, and Virgil softens, crossing the room and gently touching his shoulder. “Hey, no, Logan, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you. I just - this message, there’s something off. I think something might be wrong, and I don’t want to put you in any unnecessary danger. Just - wait here, okay? Wait in my room, where it’s safe. It’s probably nothing, he’s probably fine, but on the off chance that he’s not, I want you to stay hidden safely up here.”

Logan isn’t sure why this makes his face heat up slightly, but it does. “Okay. I accept your apology, and I . . . trust you.”

Virgil smiles, soft and heartwarming, and Logan is beginning to give more credence to his “chest explosion is fine, actually” theory. “Wait for me here, okay? I’ll be right back. I promise.”

He leaves, shutting the door firmly behind him, and the foamy feeling in Logan’s chest dissipates a little. He can’t quite put his finger on it, but there’s something . . . off. If Logan didn’t know better, he’d think that he was sensing a predator approaching.

But that can’t be right, he isn’t underwater. His danger senses are likely just overreacting to his disappointment at Virgil’s absence.

. . . Right?

*~*~*~*~*

Thomas is beginning to regret letting Roman and Patton (specifically, Roman) out of the large tank before finishing his first coffee of the morning.

“I want some!” Roman complains.

“Do you even know what it is?” Thomas says. Roman pouts sulkily at him.

“. . . No,” he mutters, rolling his eyes. Thomas gives him the deadpan, no-nonsense, I-am-your-direct-superior-take-the-damn-samples-Virgil stare that he has perfected over the past few years. Roman wilts a little more, and Thomas feels slightly bad.

“It’s called coffee,” he says. “It’s a hot drink that lots of people have in the morning. Some people drink it plain, and some people add things to it to change the way it tastes. It helps me wake up more and get focused to start my day, and sometimes I drink it late at night to help keep me awake.”

Roman looks less like a kicked puppy and more like Logan, eyes wide and curious. “I want some!”

Thomas, taking a sip of his own two-seconds-of-cream-five-cubes-of-sugar coffee, nearly spits it out. He looks at Roman, eyes the very sharp, very detachable, very toxic spines covering his body, and says, “No.”

Roman’s demeanor changes entirely, switching from “curious toddler” to “toddler about to throw a temper tantrum” in a heartbeat. “Why not?!”

“Because when people drink coffee without being used to it, sometimes it makes them a little crazy.”

“I’m not crazy!”

“Do I need to recount to you how many times you’ve threatened me and my assistant since we met you?” Thomas says, raising an eyebrow. “I’m not giving you coffee until I know I can trust you not to stab me with your poisonous spines that cover your entire body and can be fired at people.”

Roman pouts more, dropping under the water and letting out a gratingly harmonious string of mer that Thomas is pretty sure translates to Roman bitching about the coffee situation to his dad. Based on the pattern of Patton’s response, he’s pretty sure Patton is laughing at Roman.

More sulky chalkboard-violin music, and then Roman resurfaces grumpily. “Dad agrees with you and says no consuming strange human foods.”

“Did he laugh at you?”

Roman squints suspiciously at him. “You can’t speak our language.”

“Yeah, but I know what it sounds like when a dad laughs at his kid.” Roman, continuing to pout, sinks back into the tank, presumably to sulk some more. Thomas takes another very long sip of coffee that is definitely too hot for his mouth and turns back to his desk.

Virgil should definitely be awake and in the lab at this point. The samples he’s supposed to be analyzing are sitting in their little tubes, each neatly labelled with locations and dates and times and what, specifically, Virgil is supposed to be looking for. Thomas considers going upstairs and waking up Virgil, who’s almost never been late for work in this way, but he decides against it. Virgil is upstairs with Logan, and Thomas knows that there’s something building between them. He’s not sure how advisable that something is, but he trusts Virgil to make his own decisions.

Besides, he could probably use some practice. His water sample analysis skills are pretty rusty, he’s had Virgil doing them for years. “Virgil, you owe me big time for what I’m doing for you.” He carefully shifts the samples over to his own desk, slides his earbuds in, picks up a pipette, and gets to work analyzing the bacterial and algal concentrations for any abnormalities.

Thomas accomplishes about forty-five minutes’ worth of work before Roman interrupts him by flicking water at him and soaking the back of his neck. “Hey!”

“I tried your name, but your little ear bug things were keeping you from hearing me,” Roman says smugly. Thomas, not for the first time, considers retreating to the closet and throwing beakers until he feels better.

“Can I help you?”

“Dad wants to go hunting and bring back breakfast, but we can’t leave without you.”

“Are you not going hunting?”

“I’m going to stay here and observe you,” Roman says.

Thomas blinks. “Do I . . . need observing?”

“How do I know you won’t sell us out to your little human friends the second you get a chance? If I’m here, I can stop you. Plus, what if you do something to Logan while we’re not here to protect him? No, no, I’m staying right where I am and you can’t make me leave.” His spines ripple; Thomas steps closer to a whiteboard in case he needs to duck.

“I’m not going to do that, and I don’t want you to stab me.”

“Still! I’m staying here! Also, Dad’s bigger than me, and he’s a better hunter cause he’s faster and he’s been hunting longer.

“Does he need something to help him carry all those fish?” Thomas asks. Roman opens his mouth like he’s going to say something snarky, pauses, and stops.

“I . . . usually we just eat what we catch when we catch it. We make a pile of prey and take turns guarding it while the other two hunt. Then we make a sacrifice to the Seven Mother Goddesses and eat what’s left.”

After some debate, Thomas is able to fashion a sling of sorts from some waterproof tarps and leftover anchor rope to tie around Patton’s body. “You can put the fish in this pouch and carry them back here. Will you be able to navigate your way back to the grotto?”

“He will,” Roman says. “Dad knows more about the ocean than any human possibly could.” Another discordant song from the tank, chastising, and Roman huffs. “Dad wants me to reassure you that he’ll be fine.”

Patton settles into the mobile tank easily, and Thomas gets him down to the grotto leading towards the sea. “When you come back, let out one of your pod calls and Virgil or I will come and collect you and your catch. Take as much time as you need, okay?”

Patton reaches up and gently pats Thomas’s arm with one large, damp hand, and Thomas takes that to mean an agreement. “Alright, off you go.” There’s a whoosh and a rush of water as it flows from the tank into the grotto in a clean arc, carrying Patton with it. Thomas waits for a moment, letting Patton disappear into the open ocean, before returning to the laboratory.

Roman, for the most part, ignores Thomas. He asks the occasional question, which Thomas tries to answer in a way that he’ll understand, and leans over the edge of his touch tank, eyes guarded. Every time Thomas sneaks a glance, when he thinks Roman isn’t looking, his expression is wide-eyed and wondrous, like Logan’s usually are, but the moment he realizes Thomas is watching him his entire face closes up like a clamshell.

Thomas wonders what it’ll take to get Roman to trust him, trust Virgil, trust any human. Granted, he doesn’t know Roman’s history with humans, but he and Patton are both fairly scarred, and Thomas might not know the whole story but he’d bet a not-insignificant amount of his monthly income that the giant starburst scar taking up the majority of Patton’s chest isn’t the result of a clash with a marine creature.

He works quietly, fielding the occasional question, keeping one ear on the grotto tunnel for Patton’s return. He’s not sure how long he expected Patton to be gone, but he hears movement in the grotto tunnel far sooner than he’d expected.

“Thomas, what’s -”

“Shhhh,” Thomas says. He stands up, pushing away from his desk, but before he can say anything else, there’s a flood of movement coming from the tunnel. Bodies pour into the lab, swift and strong and carrying weapons that they immediately train on Thomas and Roman.

“What is this?” Roman snaps, bristling. He sounds betrayed, like he thinks Thomas is behind this. Thomas picks up a heavy glass beaker, fully prepared to shatter it upside someone’s skull if necessary, but something heavy and hard strikes the back of his skull and he feels his knees crumple. Roman cries out, and Thomas struggles to push himself up. A hand fists itself in his hair and yanks him upright, sharply. Thomas exhales sharply through his teeth, but before he can start struggling, something cool and round rests against the back of his neck, shutting him up and shutting his brain down.

Roman is puffed up like a hedgehog, apparently fully prepared to defend Thomas despite his strong and inherent mistrust. Before he can begin to attack, Thomas hears the click-click-click of shoes on the hard stone floor. Whoever’s holding his head yanks him back again, and he is forced to watch as a woman walks into his laboratory.

(It sounds like the beginning of a bad joke - a sick, horrible, twisted joke.)

She has black heels, black tights, a black pencil skirt, a black blazer, and a blood-red blouse. Her hair is scraped back into a tight bun, pulled so taut it must hurt, and is held in place with a pitch black stick. She carries a - clipboard? tablet? Unclear - held against her chest, and there’s a sleek silver weapon in her right hand.

“The one from the video?” she asks.

“Affirmative, ma’am,” says the person holding Thomas’s head. The woman nods, lifting her weapon, and fires at Roman. Thomas tries to scream a warning, earning himself another painful yank from his captor, but the projectile lodges itself in Roman’s shoulder anyway.

It isn’t a bullet, but something that looks like a small syringe. Roman swats it out of his shoulder, swaying a little, but it doesn’t stop him from swiping at the - mercenary, they must be - who tries to grab him with his elbow spines. The woman frowns, lifts the weapon - some kind of tranquilizer gun? - and fires again.

Roman screams, inhuman and animal, and tears the newest dart from his arm, throwing himself out of his tank and clinging to the nearest mercenary. His teeth tear into the man’s shoulder, spines piercing through his camouflage clothing and flooding him with neurotoxin. The man collapses against the concrete, alive but unconscious, and Roman snarls at the next man as though daring him to approach. He sways, weakened but awake, and bares his teeth.

“Of course,” the woman says, tapping something on her tablet. “His naturally produced neurotoxin must be providing him with some level of natural resistance. Unexpected, but not a limitation.”

It takes three more tranquilizer darts before Roman finally slumps down into his tank, unconscious. The mercenaries look hesitant to approach him, but the woman reaches for her tablet and they scramble to action at once.

“No - no, stop, let him go, he’s not an animal for you to cart off to your lab -” Thomas starts. The man holding him knees him sharply in the back and he cries out, coughing.

They wrap Roman in thick leather bands, roughly shoving his spines flat and binding them against his skin so that he can’t attack them again. The woman nods, once, short and sharp, and they drag Roman away, letting his head bang mercilessly on the ground. Thomas catches a glimpse of a logo - emblazoned on the back of the jackets, on the back of the woman’s tablet, on the side of her tranquilizer gun - and commits it to memory. He’s going to need it, if he gets out of here alive.

“- your phone,” the woman says, and oh, when did she get in front of him.

“My what?”

His mouth runs dry as she places the tranquilizer gun under his chin, barrel pressing against his throat, and tips his chin up. “I said, give me your phone.”

Thomas blinks. “My - the desk. It’s on the desk.”

She sets her tablet down, picks up his phone, and shoves it in his face. “Open it.”

“I - wh -”

“Unlock your phone, Dr. Sanders. Must I repeat myself a third time?” She rolls her eyes. “Doctorates are wasted on people like you.”

Thomas numbly punches in his passcode, and she swipes through to his messages app, frowning before turning the screen towards his face to reveal a message thread with Virgil. “Is this your assistant?”

Thomas glares at her, he’s not going to give her what she wants, he’s not going to just give her Virgil but then the - gun, it must be a gun, what else would they be holding against his neck like this - pushes into him harder, and it’s probably bruising, and he can’t get himself killed here because then he definitely won’t be able to take care of Virgil and -

“Yes,” Thomas says, hating himself for giving in so easily. “What do you -”

She turns away from him, nails clicking against his phone screen as she sends a text message - to Virgil, presumably, and that makes his heart sink like a stone - before dropping it on the floor and stepping on it to shatter it. “I have a message for you.”

“A - what?”

“Did they really hit you that hard, or were you this stupid before we came here?” she says coldly, picking up the tablet again and tapping at the screen. Thomas groans as the man yanks him to his feet, shoving him onto his chair and pulling a roll of duct tape out of one of his multiple pants pockets. He tapes Thomas’s wrists and ankles to the chair, keeping his weapon trained on Thomas’s temple at all times, before pressing it roughly against his head and gripping his hair again.

The woman sets the tablet on his lab table, and the screen flickers to life, and then there’s a woman in front of a dark black backdrop, smiling at him like a cat who’s caught a canary. “Thomas Sanders. How long I’ve waited for this day.”

Thomas recognizes her. He knows he recognizes her. She used to be his classmate, before . . .

His head hurts, so badly that he can barely keep his eyes open, and the memory slips away. “You . . . why are you doing this?”

“Why? Because I am a real scientist, unlike you. You refuse to do what is necessary, what must be done for the progression of the species. The sacrifice of some worthless animals is necessary for humanity to reach its zenith. You would really hinder the entire human race for the preservation of lower life forms?”

“Wh - I -”

“You think that ‘preserving the ecosystem’ and ‘keeping animals alive’ makes you a good scientist, but it makes you weak. You are weak, Thomas Sanders, and if the world was left in the hands of people like you, the human race as we know it would die out in a few centuries. Fortunately, there are people like me, who understand what must be done.”

“Caring about other people and things - it doesn’t - it doesn’t make you weak,” Thomas says, chest heaving, and the woman just laughs.

“One of many logical fallacies to which you subscribe, Thomas. They really gave you a doctorate? Of course caring makes you weak. All emotions make you weak. They corrupt your data and make your experiments worthless. You must be ruthless. You must be willing to do whatever it takes to pursue your goals and achieve the height of success. But no.” She rolls her eyes, face hardening, twirling a pen in her fingers. “You insist on ethics and principles and letting emotions cloud your judgement, and that makes you a failure as a scientist. It makes you weak. Your attachments will be your downfall.”

Thomas’s eyes slide shut, head pounding, and the man behind him yanks at his hair so sharply that he knows some has been ripped out. He forces his eyes open in time to see a smile slide across the woman’s face like a knife, teeth gleaming white as sun-bleached bone.

“You won’t - get away with this,” Thomas manages. He grinds his teeth together and curls his hands into fists, digging his nails into his palms to keep himself awake. “If you leave me alive -” Thomas, stop talking, why are you reminding her that she has the option to fucking kill you “- I will not rest until I find you. I’ll - you can’t -”

“You’ll what, Thomas? If you call the police, you’ll expose those creatures you’re so intent on protecting to the world. Are you really willing to take that chance?” Before Thomas can even begin formulating a response, she steamrolls him. “It doesn’t matter. Even if you were, I’m going to take some . . . insurance, shall we say.”

“Why not just kill me?” Thomas spits. Excellent idea, Doc, poke the murderous lady with a stick like a god damn hornet’s nest, the tiny Virgil in his brain hisses. Her smile, somehow, only widens, and that’s . . . that can’t be good, can it? Smiles are supposed to be good! They’re supposed to make you happy, but all Thomas feels is creeping dread and pain, so much pain, and -

Yeah. He’s . . . pretty sure he has a concussion.

“Because if I kill you, you get to take the easy way out. Your suffering will end. But unlike you, I don’t put limits on my science. I know how to cause you the maximum amount of pain.”

Thomas eyes the toxin gun, but the on-screen woman just laughs. “Not yet, Thomas. We need something from you, first.”

“You already took Roman,” Thomas says. “What more can you possibly take from me?”

“You named it? You’re even weaker than I thought.”

“He told me his name, he’s not an it, he’s not a thing for you to play with and - and I -”

There’s a strange sinking feeling in Thomas’s chest as the woman onscreen laughs. “I knew you were emotional, Thomas, but I can’t believe this! It looks like I’ll have more hanging over your head than you thought.”

“You -”

“Say, Tommy-boy, have you heard from your precious little assistant recently?”

Thomas’s entire body flushes ice-cold and then white-hot, immediately struggling against his duct tape bindings despite the man tearing at his hair and shoving the gun into his neck and snapping at him to shut up, shut up, shut the fuck up before I do something we’re both gonna regret -

“Don’t you touch him!” Thomas snaps. “If you hurt him, I swear to God -”

“You’re not in a position to be making demands, and if you don’t calm down, I’ll paint your boring little lab bright red.” Thomas freezes, holding his entire body tensed like electricity is running through his blood.

There are footsteps on the stairs. “Doc? I got your text, what’s -”

“Virgil, run!” Thomas chokes. Virgil comes around the corner, holding his phone, staring at the screen in confusion. He looks up, eyes widening in horror as he takes in the scene.

“You know what to do,” the woman onscreen says. The other woman lifts her tranquilizer gun, and Thomas is sure that he’s screaming, his mouth is open and sound is coming out but his blood is rushing through his ears and his heart is pounding like waves against a boat in rough sea and he can’t - he can’t -

Virgil turns to run, but the tranquilizer dart hits in him the back of the neck and he collapses like a sack of bricks. The woman lowers her gun and jerks her head at the two remaining conscious, unoccupied mercenaries, who step forward and grab Virgil.

“Let him go!” Thomas screams, and his throat feels raw and his chest feels raw and his wrists are rubbed raw and his soul feels hollow and raw, like he’s been scraped out with a jagged piece of metal and only an empty shell remains. Virgil’s head lolls against his chest as they drag him down the grotto tunnel, and Thomas struggles and screams and stares after them until Virgil is out of sight.

His face is damp, and his eyes are burning, and he isn’t sure if it’s blood from his head wound or tears or some strange, morbid mixture of both.

“The greatest torture of which I can conceive,” the woman onscreen says, and it takes him a moment to realize that oh, she’s talking to me, “is to leave you alive, knowing that your precious little protégé is with me, and that there is nothing you can do about it.” She leans forward, and any trace of a smile is gone. “If you try to come after me, I will kill him. If you call the authorities, I will kill him. I already found you, Thomas. Don’t think I’m not watching. If I catch so much as a whiff of you planning something, his blood will be on your hands. Do you understand me?”

Thomas, numb and shocked, can’t even respond. “Knock him out and bring the specimens back to me,” the woman onscreen says.

“Yes, ma’am.”

He doesn’t even feel the tranquilizer dart hit his neck, but he welcomes the sweeping darkness.

(Summary: Evil Scientist Lady has been spying on Thomas and she finds the entrance to the grotto where our mer friends have been hiding. She sends her assistant and several armed thugs to invade the lab, they drug Roman with tranquilizers and kidnap him. Thomas gets knocked around a lot and is mocked for being an ethical scientist and caring about people by Evil Scientist Lady and she gloats at him through Evil Facetime before kidnapping Virgil in the same way they did Roman, knocking Thomas unconscious, and leaving him tied to his lab chair. During this whole scene, Patton is out in the open ocean hunting and Logan is safely hidden in Virgil's room.)

[thewalkingdead-imagines]

TWD - Negan Imagine ~ “Diverged”

Imagine for the 21st episode of Season 10

Summary: Follow Negan and the Reader through the days after Maggie’s arrival in Alexandria, through struggles and tension, domestic bliss, and a special little celebration.

Warning: Smut

Day 1 after Maggie’s arrival Warm morning sun was streaming through the windows of the living room and the kitchen, filling it up with a warmth that you very much needed after the nerve-wracking last night. You hadn’t slept badly, but your body was still letting you know that it didn’t like the ordeal of fear and tears you’d put it through last night. You tried to stay positive, new day, new game, but the thought that you could run into Maggie any moment you’d step foot out of your house gave you a feeling of the ugly kind. “Fuck, really needed that coffee”, Negan groaned as you watched him take a big gulp from his cup, his figure still a little slumped over the table and his face was still painted in the remaining exhaustion that was stuck in him as well. “Mhm me too”, you sighed, reaching for your cup, taking another sip while you could feel Negan’s hand reaching for yours, taking it into his grasp as he cleared his throat slightly. “So we’re just gonna-” Cut off by two quick knocks on the door your glimpse shot up from your cup, darting right at the door, revealing Gabriel’s black clothed figure right behind its windows. Your stomach started to sink from one moment to another, unsure what to think, unsure what he would do and say now that Maggie was back, unsure if he was here to try and snap Negan’s freedom back again, or if it was just something trivial that had brought him here. “Fuck”, it fell from Negan’s lips the same moment a tense sound fell from yours and you stood up from your spot, letting go of Negan’s hand to move towards the door while your heart started to drum against your chest, pounding harshly as you finally pushed down the handle. “Morning, can I come in?”, the priest asked, the look on his face not readable enough for you to know whether he had good or bad news. “Sure”, you only nodded, gulping thickly as he walked past you towards the table, watching him closely as you followed him. “Mornin’ Gabey boy”, Negan chuckled, overplaying any of the stress and fear he clearly felt too. The bright grin was plastered onto his face, but just one look into his eyes gave away what he was truly feeling right now.  “Morning to you too, Negan. I just got some updates for the both of you”, he said, looking in between the both of you and finally, he seemed to pick up on the thick tension that was laying in the air.

“It’s nothing negative, no need to worry”, he quickly added and while a burden already seemed to fall from your shoulders and your heart started to slow down its relentless pounding, a part of you was still on edge.  “Aaron and I will leave for an extensive run in a few hours. Maggie provided us with a map with possible scavenging locations further out. I just thought it would be good to let you know, also concerning the council”, he said as he looked to you while you were still nearly hanging onto his lips, waiting for him to finish so you could be sure that no bad surprise was waiting for you,”With both of us gone, most of the remaining council is gone as well, there’s only you, Nora and Kyle left...which means it is inactive for the time being, as soon as we’re back, we will look for new members and make any decisions together.” “And what does that mean for us?”, Negan finally asked, the grin gone as the tension broke through his facade as he glanced up to the priest, “C’mon Gabe, You just said it, Maggie is back. So as long as you and spikey boy are out there we’ll just continue as before? Do our work and live here?” “That’s the plan”, he nodded,”I’ve told you before, every helping hand is needed and living in this home has worked during the last days as well. A well rested worker is a good worker. So yes, you will continue as before.” “And others know that as well? As long as you’re gone we can count on this?”, you asked, still too tense to trust it all completely yet no matter how much you wanted to believe it,“I just...I just want to be sure that Maggie’s presence won’t spontaneously change things while you’re gone. We won’t start anything of course, we’ll keep our distance, I just want to be sure that we can count on this now.” “You can”, he nodded once more, sighing as he still saw the suspicion on both of your faces.  You wished it was different, you wished you could act and be a little more lighthearted and less tense but you’d been disappointed too many times before and you weren’t gonna let that happen again, not if you had any chance to avoid it. “I’ve told Kyle and Nora...and yes, I’ve let Daryl know as well just as Maggie does. I’m not saying she likes it but this decision is set in stone for as long as we’re gone”, he said, looking in between the both of you, “And as I told you last time, I generally see no problem in keeping the situation permanently as it is.” “Okay, thank you, Gabe”, you finally got out, allowing yourself to let his words finally calm you while Negan joined in, sighing softly as he got the priest’s attention. “I know I’ve been screwing with you here and there but I appreciate this, Gabey, Really”, he said, looking straight but entirely genuine at the other man, who started to clear his throat slightly. “Good...I am not entirely sure how long this run will take, but it will be something around two weeks. I’ll see you when I’m back”, he started, looking once more in between the both of you before he started to head towards the door again. “Take care”, you said as you moved in behind him, reaching for his arm to stop him for a moment as he was about to step outside, “I mean it, thank you. This means a lot.” He only gave you another look, a slightly warmer one you’d rarely seen in him during the last while before he nodded slightly and slipped outside, leaving you at the doorstep for a moment as the fresh morning breeze brushed over your face and allowed you to relax slightly and process the news that were much better than you’d actually anticipated.  For now, things were good, and you’d just appreciate that to the fullest. 

2 days after Maggie’s arrival  Business as usual. Just like Gabriel had proposed.  You hadn’t seen Maggie on the streets of Alexandria at all yesterday, only one or two of her people and you were quite grateful that it had stayed that limited after the tumultuous night you’ve had before, though you knew that it certainly wouldn’t stay that way. They were probably getting that house ready that Maggie had simply picked for them, and while that fact irked you a little, you were partly grateful that it bought you some more time to adjust.  Still half lost in your thoughts you moved through the quiet infirmary, only hearing Steve move something around on the first floor, collecting some new bed sheets for the only stationary patient you had at the moment.  “I got you, only this one more step”, an unfamiliar male voice rumbled from the porch dully into the room, just loud enough for your attention to spike up and turn you into the direction of the voice. Tilting your head you glimpsed through the windows, trying to sort the voice to a face and from one moment to another, it was crystal clear to you why you didn’t recognize it.  The voice didn’t belong to an Alexandrian, Hilltoper or even former Kingdom resident, those were two of Maggie’s people. A shudder ran down your back as you watched the man whose voice you’d just heard help the blonde woman he propped with his arms towards the door, slow but still not slow enough for you to prepare yourself for the situation. Did they know who you were? Did Maggie or maybe any other person in here already point it out to them?  For a moment, you wanted to call Steve downstairs, to take no chances and avoid unnecessary confrontations but you didn’t have enough time for that left and a small part of you hoped that doing a good job now might benefit you and Negan at some other point.  Still, it didn’t leave you any less tense as the man pushed the door open, his eyes on the floor until the both of them moved a little more into the room and he finally looked up.  “Morning, we’re here to get a new bandage for her foot”, he rumbled, tucking a loose strand of his dark hair back into his low bun as you moved towards the both of them, trying to find some kind of recognition in his eyes but at least for now, it didn’t seem like he knew who you were, and if that was the case, it might be best to keep it this way. You weren’t in the mood for confrontations. Not here. Not now. “Sure, just help me get her on the cot”, you said, smiling softly as you moved in next to the woman, propping her just enough to get her comfortably onto the nearest cot and a sigh of relief left her lips as soon as she could adjust herself and relieve her foot from any weight that had still lasted onto it. “I’ll quickly get some stuff to wrap this up again”, you said as you moved towards the counters, a certain tension still lasting onto you as you reached for the small notebook with notes you kept about the patients, searching for the latest fitting entry of the day before yesterday that fit to her injury.  “Your name’s Linda, right?”, you asked as you glimpsed up from the book, watching as the younger woman looked up and nodded softly.  “You’re keeping track of the patients?”, the man asked, curious as he tilted his head a little to glimpse at the book. “Yeah, makes it easier to know for any follow up appointments what drugs, salves or else were used”, you said, still with a friendly look on your face as you nodded back to the book, “Also easier to keep track on how much of meds we still got left, just makes things a lot faster and simple.” “Yeah I’m just asking ‘cause our doc back at our old village did the same thing, had a book that looked exactly like that one, just had me curious”, he said, a bittersweetness in his voice before he let out a thick sigh,”Not sure if you heard but the reason we left is the same reason she got injured...hurt herself when the rest of our group fled from that bastard in the woods.”´ß “Yeah I did”, you nodded, moving in to grab what you needed, glimpsing in between the book and Linda and Cole as you threw the supplies into a small basket, ready to use them as you made your way back and gave her a small smile,”Gonna make sure you’re fully back on your feet quickly.” “I’m Cole by the way”, he said the moment you reached them, extracting his hand out to you and with that, sending just another shiver of tension through you as you realized that there was no way past introducing yourself anymore.  “Well then nice to meet you, Cole”, you said, giving him another smile, trying to give him one last kind impression of yourself before you gulped thickly as you accepted his hand, only hoping that this would be the first time he’d hear your name. “I’m (Y/N).” It wasn’t the first time. it most definitely wasn’t. From one moment to another, it seemed to click in him. His kind looking dark eyes widened slightly before they narrowed as his face fell flat, saying with that expression more than 1000 words ever could while his grip on your hand loosened. “Well, then let’s get this done, huh?”, you could hear yourself awkwardly mumble as you let go of his hand, trying to act as if this hadn’t just happened while you only hoped that he would just give you the silent treatment instead of spewing a remark. Tensely you started to get to work, trying to ignore what had just happened though you could very much tell that they were eyeing you. Linda more than Cole, but the looks you could see him giving you from the corner of your eyes were still obvious enough to notice.  Thorough but as fast as you could you finished the job, making sure to not look as tensed as you felt before you finally tossed the last bit of scraps back into the basket and looked back up again. “Alright, it’s done. You can come back anytime you feel like you need a bandage change, if nothing happens and it mostly stays in place, you could come by tomorrow evening or the day after”, you said, just trying to act as if this situation wasn’t as awkward and tense as it truly was.  With that, you only got a short “Thanks” and “Bye” of them and right after those words had been spoken, they got themselves out of the infirmary without saying just another word. And while this was by far not the worst case scenario, you knew that your time of adjusting was over with these few minutes that were surely just the beginning of a ton of tense encounters.  “Delivery for the doc?”, a warm, familiar voice filled up the room, its suddeness that cut through the silence from one moment to another letting you flinch as you turned around and saw Negan standing by the side entrance door with a large wooden box in his hands that he quickly let down by the door as he moved inside towards you. “Fuck, you look like ya saw a damn ghost. Did I scare you that much?”, he chuckled as he reached you, moving in to grasp your jaw and press a kiss over your lips. Humming you leaned into him, kissing him back until he slowly let go of you and looked over your face, almost as if he was trying to read off of your expression what exactly was wrong. “Two of Maggie’s people were here just now”,  you eventually mumbled, watching his face tense up quickly before you shook your head softly. “They didn’t do anything but their attitude changed up real quick once they heard my name”, you mumbled, sighing softly as you shrugged your shoulders,”At least didn’t throw any remarks around but the silence was awkward as hell.” Negan only nodded, his face a little less tense than before but still far from relaxed as you leaned up to press another small kiss over his lips. “Now what’s the delivery? I’m curious”, you asked, trying to switch up the topic as you nodded towards the box that still stood by the door and Negan’s face began to light back up.  “Went out with your colleague’s husband today and got some cuts for those herbs you needed”, he said as he let go of you and strolled over to the door to heave the box with a small grunt up and carry it over to the counter by your side ,”Daniel and I wanna go out an dig ‘em up some other day. Steve told him getting some tinctures and salves done is kinda urgent so we thought we’d get some cuts for y’all first.” “Oh that’s awesome”, you said, glimpsing into the box that was filled with neatly tied bundles of herbs, though your excitement wasn’t only directed at the new supplies but also at the fact that Negan seemed to have had a rather positive experience with another Alexandrian, and he could use that at the moment.  “We got a bunch of chamomile, some burning nettles, comfrey, burdock, dandelions and some lavender”, Negan mumbled as he gestured into the box as you peeked inside,”Reading those damn plant books down in that fucking cell finally pays off. First that Hogweed shit with Aaron and now this.”  A chuckle fell from your lips as you reached inside the box and grasped the small bundle of lavender and held it up to your nose to smell its calming scent. “Oh this smells so good”, you mumbled, backing a little off to glimpse at the small and pretty lilac blossoms ,”Crazy how fast everything’s blooming now. Feels like those pretty wildflowers by the woodhouses also just popped up from one day to another.”  Laying the lavender back into the box you moved closer to Negan to wrap your arms around his neck and lean into kiss him softly, smiling as you leaned back to glimpse at him. “Thank you”,you mumbled, reaching your hand up to run it trough his dark hair and elicited a small, content groan to fall from Negan’s lips ,”How were things with Daniel outside?” “Actually pretty damn good”, Negan said, the grin on his face growing a little wider and some more relief spread through you,”Nice guy, really...felt good just being looked at like a normal damn person.” “See”, you mumbled, giving him another smile,”Told you there’s also people who’ve grown to accept you. Not everything’s bad.” Slowly, Negan nodded, the smile still resting on his lips. Things wouldn’t become easier, if anything had shown you that it was the encounter with Cole and Linda just now, but these little positive news were enough to let you realize once more that there were still people in this town that were starting to accept Negan. You just couldn’t let the opinions of those that still despised him overshadow those who were willing to give him an honest chance to start anew.

4 days after Maggie’s arrival A deep sigh fell from your lips as you fumbled the DVD of the likely most horrible horror movie you’d watched to this day out of the console, popping it quickly back into its packaging to push it, hopefully, to never be seen again into the TV shelf. Glimpsing over your shoulder you watched as Negan poured the both of you new drinks in the kitchen, waiting for you to choose the next thing to watch for your daily little movie night that would hopefully distract you from the cliché filled atrocity you’d just watched.  Shifting on the fluffly carpet you moved along the backs of the DVD packages until you found the one you wanted and pulled it out just as you saw the lights in the kitchen turn off again and heard Negan’s footsteps coming closer. “Watcha poppin’ in there?”, he asked, curiously rising his eyebrows as he tried to peek at the package in your hands and took a small sip of his whiskey. ““Can you resist?” I need something trashy and fun after that bummer”, you said with a small chuckle and held the tacky, and bright colored packaging up, just enough for Negan to see it as he sat down on the edge of the couch and brightly grinned at you. “Need something to calm ya down?”, he asked, tease swinging heavily through his voice ,”Was that thing too scary for you?” “No”, you quickly retorted before you popped the package open,“I just need to erase that crap from my mind.” “Sure thing.” “Asshole”, you chuckled in response to his comment that just oozed sarcasm, leaning in over to him to give his leg a small, playful slap while a thick laugh rumbled up his throat. Glimpsing back down you moved the DVD into the console, a little more eager to finally get it running. The first four episodes that you’d watched during the last nights had already been nothing but a fun guilty pleasure, that got so much better with Negan’s remarks about the candidates and whatever actions they were pulling at the moment. If you were honest, those remarks were likely what you enjoyed most about watching the show. “I swear if Sarah and Chad are the first fuckin’ faces we see, I’m gonna lose my shit”, Negan groaned as he stood up from the couch’s edge and moved back to his usual spot, plopping down onto it, careful to not spill any of your drinks as he threw his legs onto the cushions. “I’ve never seen two people on TV who’ve got on my nuts that much”, he scoffed, sipping once more on his glass as you grabbed the remote and moved back over to him,”I get it, not fuckin’ is hard but not so fuckin’ hard to resist if 100 thousand dollar are on the damn line. Just resist for a while and then have a big-ass fuckfest after you collect the damn coin.” “At least the drama’s good”, you chuckled back, reaching for your glass as you  moved in next to him and started the show, almost eager to forget about that dumb movie and hear what kind of remarks Negan had to offer up for this episode. “That’s true”, he mumbled as you set your glass back on the coffee table and cuddled up to his side, watching the screen load before another contestant’s face showed up on the screen and a relieved groan fell from Negan’s lips,”Oh thank god...Y’know who that guy reminds me of?” Glancing up you looked in between Negan and the young man that was shown on TV, trying to figure out for a moment who he could refer to before you shook your head and watched Negan’s grin flare up once more. “Gabey.” “What?”, it fell from your lips with a laugh, as you glimpsed confused back to Negan. “Y’know he’s acting all coy and shit but I bet he might be kinkier than we think”, he said, grinning widely as he bit his lip before he gestured to the TV ,”I’m sure he’s gonna get laid by that Valerie girl.” “You sure he won’t be able to resist?”, you mumbled, tilting your head a little as said Valerie showed up on screen and started to move towards Gabey 2.0 ,”He’s been responsible till now.” “Till now”, Negan grinned, holding his pointing finger up before he snickered and grinned just a little wider,”He’s gonna break at some point...especially if she keeps on inviting him on those dates...and I can’t wait for the shit storm that will break loose once that happens.”

7 days after Maggie’s arrival The sun was already nearing the skyline of the trees and filled the air with its warm light as you reached your home after a long day of work. You’d stayed a little longer at the infirmary today, fixing up some new tinctures with the herbs that Negan and Daniel had brought in and by now, you were just glad to finally come home and fill your stomach up with whatever delicious meal Negan had prepared by now.  Once you reached your home you quickly moved up the porch, taking two steps at the time only to hear the door opening as soon as you reached the top. “Hey Sweetheart”, Negan said, a wide grin on his face as he leaned against the doorframe while your eyes ran over him. Usually, he was already in his comfortable clothes around this time, ready to just relax for the rest of the day but now, he looked like he’d freshly slicked back his hair and threw some fresh dark gray pants on and a white shirt on. You most definitely weren’t complaining, but you were still surprised. “Hey”, you said back, grinning back at him as you moved in to greet him with a kiss, peeking curiously past him as you caught a high vase on the dinner table that was filled with the pretty wildflowers you’d seen blooming by the woodhouses and that only sparked your curiosity further. “What’s going on here?”, you asked as you leaned a bit back and tilted your head slightly, watching as something that looked a little but like nervousness spread over his face as he took your hand and lead you inside, where you could already smell the delicious scent of Negan’s spaghetti sauce filling the air. “Y’know...around this time last year I put that ring on your finger”, he said as he closed the door behind you and looked down to your hand before glimpsing right back up at you with a warm but still slightly nervous look in his eyes,”I can’t be sure about the exact date but I...I thought it would be nice to celebrate our anniversary in some way...I just wanted to do something special for you.” From one moment to another the smile on your lips got wider, bringing warmth all over you as you looked from the flowers in the vase, to the few burning thick candles, to the nicely set table and the fresh basket of self made biscuits that was laying beside the cutlery.  “Wow, I-” “You said you liked ‘em so I thought they’d make a nice bouquet, uhm-”, Negan said as he nodded towards the flowers. The slight nervousness that filled the usually so confident and self-assure man was honestly adorable and you found yourself charmed as he moved from your side over to his chair and picked up something that he’d been hiding there till now ,”I got something else for you too.” With that he lifted up a pretty, dark brown leather bound notebook from its spot, a loving look filling his eyes as he moved back over to you. “You always said you wanted to create some kinda handbook for those healing herbs and stuff but you never actually got to do it before...so when I was out there getting those herb cuts, I got the idea and thought I’d start it for you.” “Holy shit”, it left your lips as you reached in to accept his gift, already smiling widely as you glimpsed at the notebook,”Thank you.” Your mouth fell softly open as you glanced down, running your thumb over the soft leather as more warmth filled you. Spending your time either working at the infirmary or being down by Negan in his cell for the last years had never given you the time to start a book like this, and it got you even happier now that it was him who gave it to you. It was personal and it was perfect and as you finally opened it the smile on your face grew only wider.

To the best wife (and doc) ever! Happy anniversary, Sweetheart I love you 

Negan’s handwriting filled the whole top of the first page, neat and not as messy as you were used to it and you could tell that it had cost him some effort to get it this way.  And just as your eyes swayed over the last three words they got captured by the smaller written line at the bottom of the page. P.S. You have, and always will, give my dick and my heart the biggest boner!

With that, a laugh fell from your lips as your eyes ran over the sentence, while the smile on your lips surely turned into an everlasting one. You loved the sweet message on the top of the page, but this down there was Negan through and through and that made it even more special to you. “First thought I’d hold myself a bit back in case you’d want others to look into it too”, Negan chuckled as you finally glimpsed up to him from the book and he winked at you,”Couldn’t go through with it all the way tho.” “I’m glad you didn’t”, you chuckled, your curiosity taking over again as you started to turn the pages and found yourself loving the book more and more with every second. Negan had taken a leaf or blossom of each of the herbs that he’d found outside, dried them and carefully glued them into the book, dedicating a page for each of the dried samples with their names written neatly on top of them and with enough pages left between each of them for you to fill with whatever notes and knowledge you had about them. “Oh my”, it fell from your lips as you browsed through the book that must have been a whole lot of work, especially considering that he always only had time to work on it whenever he got earlier back from his shifts than you. “Wish I could give you more, I know it’s not much-”, you suddenly heard him start, cut off by your sudden movement as you looked up at him and glanced wide eyes at him. “Are you kidding me?”,you asked, a soft chuckle falling from your lips as you widely smiled at him ,”This is so awesome. I love it!” Negan’s face began to light up as his eyes roamed over your happy face, his glance softening as you sat the book carefully down onto the table and moved in to hug him tightly. “Thank you so so much”, you mumbled, nuzzling your nose into his warm neck while his arms wrapped around you and pulled you closer into his embrace,”This is so sweet.” You’d never had such a thing as an anniversary before, there had never been this moment where the both of you had decided that you were a couple, it had just happened, little by little until you found yourself in love with one another and you’d always liked it this way. But this, this was special. It was something you’d never been able to do during all these years down in that cell and celebrating just anything with him now got you happy, just as the realization that you’d been calling him your husband for a year now. Leaning back you tipped up to meet his lips in a kiss, humming into him before you could feel a tiny bit of guilt starting to prick you as you realized that you were pretty much empty handed. “Now I don’t even have anything for you”, you mumbled as you let got of his lips, watching as Negan quickly shook his head. “And you don’t need to”, he mumbled, moving in to cup your face with his hands as he leaned down to press another kiss over your lips,”What you did during the last years is more than I could ever give back to you.” A small sigh left his lips as he glimpsed at you, licking his lips as his eyes stayed fixed on you. “Shit, everything you dragged down that cell to make it look more comfy was basically a damn gift”, he mumbled, a small snort falling from his lips before he shrugged his shoulders softly,”I could never give you one.” “You gave me this”, you said, holding up your left hand and the slim diamond wedding ring Negan had fixed up for you,”That’s a pretty big one.” A hum fell from Negan’s lips as his eyes swayed from the ring back to you as you let your arm lower and wrap back around his torso again. “I’m serious tho”, you mumbled, sure to keep his eyes locked on yours ,”I know you won’t believe that but you’ve given me just as much as I have given you, in one way or another. We’re even, Negan.” He softly nodded, and even though he did, you knew he’d never truly think this way. “Thank you so much for this”, you mumbled, looking over from the flowers and the notebook back at your husband ,”It’s perfect...I don’t even really know what to say I just-....I love you so much.” “I love you too”, Negan mumbled back, moving back in to kiss you, this time longer and with more passion, until your knees started to feel gooey and you found yourself melted against him. Slowly and reluctantly, Negan let go of your lips and leaned his forehead against yours, smiling widely as you heard the blubbering of the still simmering tomato sauce on the stove and let a small chuckle fall from your lips. “I want some of those spaghetti now tho...I’m starving.”

The spaghetti were as great as always and you quickly filled your stomach up with the delicious meal, loving every little moment of your anniversary dinner with Negan until you decided to quickly hop under the shower so you could enjoy the rest of the night with him down in the living room.  With a towel wrapped around your body and busy with drying off your hair with another, smaller one you moved from the bathroom back into the bedroom, lost in your thoughts for a moment as your eyes swayed over the trees outside that were only enlighted by now by the faint moonlight until your eyes dropped from the windows and landed on Negan’s leatherjacket that laid over the back of the desk-chair.  Smiling softly you moved towards it, running your fingers over the smooth leather until it clicked within you from one moment to another and an idea quickly rose up into your head that would allow you to still give Negan a little gift for the anniversary as well.  Dropping the towel from your body you tossed it along with the smaller one to the bed and grabbed the jacket to slip it over your bare body, chuckling to yourself as you already imagined his reaction to it and could feel an anticipating tingling growing quickly within you.  A small grin already laid on your face as you adjusted the oversized jacket on your body and started to move downstairs as quietly as you could, aiming to not let Negan see you until you wanted him too. Peeking inside the living room you saw him sitting relaxed on the couch, leaned back into the cushions and with his back darted towards you as he looked through some DVDs. Gulping softly you moved forwards, extra careful to not step onto the floorboards that were usually squeaking a little underneath your feet until you stood right behind Negan. Slowly, you lowered yourself a little until you could wrap your leather clad arms around him from behind and leaned in, just enough to align your lips with his ear. “I have a little surprise for you after all”, you whispered, immediately hearing a sharp breath falling from Negan’s lips as he turned around and stared with wide eyes at you that started to narrow as soon as his glance wandered over you. “Holy fuck”, he growled, licking his lips as he rushed up from the couch and rounded it within seconds, hurrying over to you while his eyes already filled with the lust you knew all too well. ”Thought we could check off another goal from that bucket list of yours”, you said with a grin as soon as he reached you, his eyes still roaming over you like a hungry predator that was looking at its prey. ”Oh for fuckin’ sure”, you could hear him murmur as he leaned down to met you in a rough kiss, his hands already starting to move underneath the leather and wander over your bare skin.  Running your hands through his hair you winced softly against his lips as he lead you towards the dinner table, groaning into you as your body met the wood.  ”This gotta be a fuckin’ dream”, he grumbled, only letting go of you to look down at you,”Don’t know how often I’ve imagined you wearing only that jacket, fuck.” You quickly found yourself in another rough kiss, only breaking it to get the rest of the stuff off the table along with the vase of flowers and the notebook before you felt Negan pushing you against it, more than ready to take this further. “Fuckin’ hell”, you heard him groan against your lips as his hands moved below the jacket and cupped your breasts, fondling them and brushing his rough thumbs over your sensitive nipples while you leaned into his touch, eager to get more of it. Humming his lips trailed down from your mouth to your neck, kissing and nipping at it as your hand dove into his thick hair and grasped it tightly as you felt him biting the skin gently but firm enough to let a small sting shoot through your body. “Oh fuck”, it fell softly from your lips, your eyes closing for a moment before you felt one of his hands traveling up to cup your throat, squeezing it lightly as he leaned back and grinned down at you. “Sit and lean back, Baby”, he said lowly, not needing to do much more for you to do as he said as you could already feel your body tingling in anticipation of what was to come while his hand was still wrapped around your throat. Breathing sharply in you leaned back until your leather covered back meet the wood, your fingers running over its roughness while your eyes found Negan’s that were staring narrowed down on you. “This, shit, this is a sight for the gods”, he murmured, licking his lips as the wolfish grin on his lips widened, enjoying the view for a moment longer until his hand ran from your neck down your breasts and your stomach until he started to lower himself to his knees.  A shiver ran down your spine as you could feel him grabbing your legs to push them over his shoulders and move his head so close to your middle that you could feel his hot breath ghosting over your flesh. Slowly but surely you could feel Negan’s lips trailing along your inner thighs, his rough beard brushing against them until you could finally feel the warmth of his mouth meeting your middle and a low groan vibrated against your sensitive flesh. A small gasp left your mouth as you felt him dragging his tongue along your core, humming deeply as he tasted you and you could feel the heat within you growing hotter as it pooled in your body’s depth. The sensation of his rough beard and his soft lips and tongue made you wince in pleasure as he worked on you, moving one of his hands towards your hot flesh to send more waves of heat through you. Tipping your head back, you felt his long fingers teasing over your clit, before his thumb moved in firm, circling movements over the sensitive numb, enough to make your body tingle even more.  Negan knew what you liked. Hell, Negan knew every little inch of your body and he surely knew how to use that for his advantage. In no time he turned you into a writhing mess as his fingers and tongue worked on you and you found yourself grabbing his hair as your body started to tremble, filled up with heat and pleasure. Softly moaning you met your hips gently in rhythm with his movements until could feel an uneasy sound fall from his lips as his deep voice vibrated against your flesh ,”Fuck, I can’t wait anymore...shit, I’m rock hard.” “Then take me”, it slipped from your lips, your body eager to feel just any touch from him, feel his tongue or his lips, or feel him thrust deeply into you. Negan was quick back on his feet, a wicked look on his face as you whined in response to the loss of his touch, though you got quickly rewarded as you rose your head just enough to see him pulling his clothes from his body. Step by step you could see more of him, his toned body, the dark hair that peppered his chest and the trail that down his pants that got you excited regardless how many times you’d already seen him undress. You could already see the large tent underneath his boxers as he pulled his pants from his body and tossed them to the side, grinning wolfishly before he brushed the very last piece from his body and revealed his throbbing erection. He was as rock hard as he’d said, precum already leaking from the tip as he stroked himself, enough to let the anticipation skyrocket within you.  His eyes kept on roaming over your naked figure underneath his leather jacket as he moved in to grab your legs, pushing them up and leaning them against his shoulders as he moved between them, the wicked grin always on his face while your body started to tremble harder. His fingers were digging into your skin as one of his hands ran down to get a grasp of himself and lead himself closer, eliciting a sharp breath to fall from your lips as soon as you felt his tip pushing against your core. “Eyes on me”, you could hear him order lowly, enough to make your glance shoot towards him and just in the very moment your eyes met his, you felt him thrusting himself into you, hard and deep while your face twisted in pleasure. A loud moan fell from your lips as your eyes stayed fixed on Negan, his lips hanging open as he groaned deeply as he grasped both of your legs tightly. “That pussy was made for me, fuck”, he groaned, licking his lips as he started to rock himself into you and his thick brows tensed as his darkened eyes stared down on you as you twitched and writhed on his cock. His fingers were digging deeply into the flesh of your legs, so much that you were sure that he was leaving marks but you couldn’t care less, you just wanted to feel him. Whining in pleasure you could feel Negan pulling himself a little out of your heat only to plow himself right back into you, groaning loudly as his skin smacked against yours and his thick cock filled you up in the very best way possible “Fuck”, it fell from your lips as Negan rocked himself into you, allowing you to meet his harsh but rhythmic movements as your hands were moving to grasp the edges of the table, desperate to hold onto anything as his fast and hard thrusts made the wood shake underneath you. “Fuck, Negan...fuck this feels so good”, you called out, writhing and humming as his heavy thrusts made you shake a little more one after one, only to see how another grin spread over his strained face. “Oh I think I got a little treat for ya”, he growled and pushed himself harder into you, before one of his hands reached down to circle his thumb over the sensitive bundle of nerves, enough to make you throw your head back in pleasure.  ”Oh my”, it fell in a gasp from your lips as you felt Negan’s thrusts and the movements of his fingers combining perfectly, bringing the mix of lust and pleasure within you to boil up even more than it already had. ”Good girl”, he growled, as you rocked your hips against his and played into his movements all while you gripped the table’s edges harder, feeling your body heating up even more as Negan’s thrusts got harder and he put more pressure onto your clit, just enough to make your body shake more. You were starting to swing more in a trance, feel each of his touches even more intense than before. Feel his rough grasp on your leg, feel his rough thrusts, feel his fingers skilled movements over your clit and feel his scent and the feeling of the smooth leather of his jacket surround you. “Be my dirty girl and cum on my cock, baby. Cum on my fucking cock!”, Negan called out as you were growing closer to your high, thrust by thrust until he finally send you over the edge and let your orgasm wash over you as he fucked you through it. Heavily breathing you could feel your chest rising and falling quickly as you slowly started to recover, though you stayed stuck in this haze of pleasure as you saw Negan’s eyes looking over you, visibly enjoying seeing you writhe on his cock while your bare body was only surrounded by his leather jacket. The grin on his lips was wide as he finally let go of your clit and instead moved up to wrap his hand around the back of your neck, and pulled your still shaking body up to face him. “C’mere”, he growled, still keeping his movements going as you tried recollect yourself somehow and moved in to wrap your shaking legs around his hips, allowing him to thrust deeper. “Fucking hell”, he cussed out, his body tensing up as he rocked himself harder into you, stretching you out perfectly and hitting all the right spots as you moved your arms to wrap them around his neck, moaning and panting as you tried to meet his movements and give him the very same pleasure he had just given you.  Glimpsing with a still hazy look in your eyes down, you watched him dragging himself back and forth into you before you felt his hands moving down to your hips, pushing you harder onto him as he moaned deeply. Taking the chance you leaned in to brush your lips over his neck and nipped on his heated skin, while more curses left his lips one by one.  Reaching one of his hands up he grasped your jaw harshly, pulling you to his lips to he met you in a rough kiss that swallowed both of your moans and deep groans as Negan started to grow closer and closer. His thrusts grew harsher but sloppier, your kiss disrupted by his heavy pants that rumbled through his broad chest as his eyes found yours to keep them locked as he rocked himself harder into you. “Holy fuck...”, he groaned, pleasure written all over his face as his movements got faster and you allowed him to use you just the way he wanted right now until you finally felt him twitch deeply inside you.  A shivering groan fell from his lips as he pulled himself just fast enough out of you, his body shivering harshly as he spilled himself over your stomach while the shocks of his orgasm rumbled through him. Panting his eyes fell from yours and fixed on his leatherjacket and your body that was covered in his cum, until he exhaustedly leaned against you, his forehead pressing against yours as you leaned in to cup his face and pressed a kiss over his lips. “Happy anniversary, Negan.”

9 days after Maggie’s arrival The afternoon sun fell brightly over Alexandria as you strolled through the infirmary, Negan’s handbook in one hand and a pen and Siddiq’s old notes about the herbs in your other as you headed towards the porch. You’d already started to work on the book a little during yesterday’s evening, but your small break now seemed like a good opportunity to continue with it. Rounding your last corner you peaked outside and saw Judith sitting at the end of the table on the porch, writing something while a couple pens were sprawled out around her. “Hey Jude”, you said with a smile as you moved outside, closing the door behind yourself as you nodded towards her,”Watcha doing?” “Homework...and I’m waiting for Lydia”, she sighed as she looked up from her paper before a small smile grew on her lips as she nodded towards the small lake on the other side of the road,”I like the view here, makes it easier to study.” “Oh that’s true, it’s real pretty here”, you said as you moved closer and nodded towards one of the free chairs diagonally from her,“Mind if I join?” Shaking her head she quickly moved some of the sprawled out pens closer to her to give you a bit more space before you sat down and laid stuff onto the table, just as something on the street caught your gaze. Tension washed over your body from one moment to another as you caught Maggie walking down the street, her son strolling right next to her as they chatted with each other. You tried to dart your glance quickly away from her but before you could her eyes met yours and let a shiver run down your back as the smile on her face turned into a frown within seconds. “What’s this?”, you suddenly heard Judith’s voice say,  pulling you from Maggie’s stare as you glanced over at Judith and saw her pointing at the notebook, and though you knew that she was curious, the look in her eyes said more than 1000 words could. She was trying to distract you and you were going to let her. “Gonna be a handbook for all the herbs we use in here”, you said, quickly opening up the book to show her the pages that were filled with the dried herb samples-  “Oh that’s nice”, she said, smiling brightly as she pointed at the dried comfrey leaf,”Can I?” Nodding, you watched her lean over and stroke her finger over the texture of the leaf, giggling as she fell back onto her chair, “Wow, that’s so cool.” “Gotta tell Negan that, he dried them”, you said with a chuckle just as her eyes fell on the street and she let out a small laugh. “Speaking of.” Turning your head you saw Negan strolling down the street towards the infirmary, ready to pick you up for your shift later this day while Lydia walked next to him. “Hey ladies”, Negan called out with quick wave and a grin as he reached the porch and nodded to Lydia next to him,”Found out we wanted to head to the same place.” “Hi”, Lydia said with a smile as she moved towards you, sat down across from you and set her book down on the table, smiling softly once more as you greeted her back and saw Negan plopping down on the chair beside her.  “Think you could help me with a math problem?”, Judith finally asked as she reached for another slim book of hers and flipped through the pages as she glimpsed at Negan who quickly nodded. “Sure thing, lemme see”, he said, reaching his hand out for the book before Judith’s eyes fell on you as she nodded towards the book. “Or do you wanna?” “Nah I can pass on math”, you chuckled, watching Judith tilt her head a little before her glance bounced in between you and Negan. “But you’re not as long out of school as Negan.” “Hey, that’s not fair, that doesn’t mean shit”, Negan called out in the very next moment, a wide grin growing on his lips as nodded at you,”And she’s outta school for a long ass time too.” “Not as long as you”, Judith quickly countered, and a grin pressed over her lips ,”She’s still young. You’re old.” “Pff I’m not”, Negan defended himself, while another giggle fell from Judith’s lips. “Then why’s your beard so gray?” “Careful Miss Grimes, you’re gettin’ bold”, Negan called playfully out, pointing at her before he snatched the book with a thick laugh and a wide grin on his face from his fingers, just as you heard someone clearing his throat behind you. “Hey”, you heard Steve say as soon as you turned around to him, catching him leaning against the door as he nodded inside,”Can I talk to you for a moment?” Strolling behind Steve into the infirmary you already expected him to ask you for help with the tinctures or salves that he’d been mixing earlier but instead, he stopped by the counters and nodded outside to the porch where Negan and the girls still sat. “How about you take the rest of the day off? Negan too?” “I-”,you started, so surprised of him that you didn’t even really know what to say first, “I would love to but I don’t know if that would make a good impression.” “Day’s pretty, most have laid their work low today”, he said with a shrug, gesturing around the room,”Infirmary is quiet and honestly, Daniel’s working at the woodhouses today so  I wouldn’t mind taking over Negan’s shift.” “Really?”, it fell from our lips with the same surprised tone as before, your eyes wide as you started at him and couldn’t quite belief his offer yet. He’d always belonged to the kinder people in Alexandria, those who were willing to give your husband a chance but this was still something big for you. “Really”, he confirmed while the look in his eyes softened a  little,”I think you deserve a bit time off too...and I’ll vouch for Negan if anyone questions it.” With that he surprised completely once for all, so much that it had to be written all over your face since Steve let out a small chuckle and shrugged his shoulders. “I may have thought differently about him a couple years ago but...he’s done good”, he said, his hand rubbing over his blonde beard stubble as he glimpsed back at you ,”And Daniel had only good things to say about him. So go have a nice afternoon off with him.” “Thank you”, you breathed out, still staring startled at him as you gulped thickly ,”Really, I-” “All good”, he said with a nod as you found yourself lost at words for a moment before you started to collect yourself again. “If you need a shift covered to have time off with Daniel you’ll let me know too, alright?” “Sure”, he said with a smile, before he nodded outside where you could hear Negan laughing,”See you tomorrow.” Nodding you watched him move back upstairs where he’d been working just as you could feel the happiness his sudden offer had brought into you starting to feel real. Smiling to yourself you moved back over to the door, hearing Negan defending himself loudly. “Now that ain’t true! I make the best damn spaghetti!”, he called out just as you could peek through the door and see him nodding at Lydia and Judith ,”Y’know if you’re allowed, you can come over whenever you guys like and I’ll make ‘em for you. They’re the best!” “Barbara’s are pretty good”, Judith countered back, the grin on her lips pretty telling that she wanted to vex Negan. “Yeah”, you could see Lydia nod, a small grin on her face as well Negan let out a thick groan. “Not as good as mine!”, he defended himself again, though the playful look was still spread over his face as he caught you walking outside and pointed at you,“Tell them!” “He makes the best spaghetti, you should come over and try it”, you chuckled  as you leaned yourself against the frame of the door and nodded at him,”I got some other good news too.” Quickly after finishing helping Judith with her math-problem you made your way back home, ecstatic to be able to spend your afternoon off together in your garden and use the beautiful weather outside to the fullest. Quickly, you switched into comfy clothes, got the sandwiches ready and prepared a comfy space outside with some thick blankets and pillows to cushion you from the grassy ground in the garden. Moving through the house you held two glasses of lemonade in your hands, made of an unopened can you’d found in the back of your pantry, the same one Negan had already loved years back. “I got a little surprise”,you said as you strolled down the porch’s stairs, grinning at Negan as he turned around from his spot on the blankets,”Was still unopened in the back of the cupboard.” “No way”, he called out, his eyes lightening up as he looked at the lemonade like a kid looked at their Christmas presents ,”Holy fuck.” Chuckling you handed Negan his glass, that he eagerly took into his hand and gulped the first sip of lemonade down. “God damn”, he called out, sighing contently as he looked down at the ,”This is like slurpin’ fucking sunrays.” Licking his lips he grinned at you as you let yourself fall next to him, sipping on your lemonade as well as Negan gestured to the sandwiches that were sprawled out over the big plate. “And now let’s get into this, I’m hungry as hell, ain’t gonna lie.”

Filled up till the rim you soon found yourself laying next to Negan, cuddled up into his side while you stared at the few clouds that travelled over the bright blue sky. Negan’s head was leaning against yours, his lips brushing against your forehead while his fingers stroke softly up and down your arm and content hums rumbled through his chest. “Fuck, this is all I wanna do tonight, just lay here all sprawled out”, his voice hummed against you as he pressed a soft kiss to your skin and nuzzled his nose into your hair.“ You don’t wanna cross off sex under the stars from your bucket list?”, you teased with a soft chuckle, hearing a small snicker fall from Negan’s lips before you could feel him slightly shaking his head. “Some other night”, he mumbled, pulling you a little closer as another sigh left his lips ,”Just wanna hold you and soak up some of that  peacefulness.” “Sounds good”, you mumbled with a smile, moving in to press a kiss against his neck and you cuddled deeper into his warm embrace.

Minute for minute you enjoyed the moments with Negan outside, just relaxing and chatting while you sipped some more lemonade and watched the sun starting to move behind the treeline. The edges of the clouds gleamed brightly in the last light that got reflected onto them while the sun’s last breaths turned the sky into a beautiful mix of warm colors that melted into the blue.   Smiling you glimpsed from the sky to the small daisy that you were twirling in between your Fingers, only one of the many that were sprawled out over the lawn. With a chuckle you  propped yourself onto your elbow, glancing at Negan who glimpsed from the sky down at you with a curious look on his face. “Watcha doin?”, he chuckled as you leaned in to stick the daisy behind his ear, grinning as you watched his thick brows bounce up in surprise. “Just givin’ you a little makeover”, you chuckled, tilting your head bit to the side as you looked at him with a teasing grin,”Think you should wear daises more often, they really suit you.” “Well, what can I say?”, he snickered, shrugging his shoulders as the smirk on his lips grew a little wider ”I can rock any look.” “For sure”, you laughed, adjusting the flower so it wouldn’t lose its balance before you teased your fingers through his thick hair. “Makes me look really fucking intimidating, huh?”, he grinned, licking his lips as he narrowed his eyes playfully at you,”Shittin’ your pants already?” “Absolutely”, you snickered, nodding as you as Negan let out a thick laugh, the rumbling of his body enough to let the small flower slip from his ear again. “Ah shit”, he grumbled, reaching to the side of his head to grasp the daisy. He glimpsed at it for a second before he reached towards you and tucked the flower onto your ear. “Looks much better on you tho”, he chuckled, grinning softly as he looked over you and you shook your head with small laugh. “Pff I’m not so sure about that”, you snickered as you moved into cuddle up against him again, using his arm as your pillow as you looked back up into the sky. Your eyes roamed over the colors that seemed to flow into one another while the edges of light around the clouds turned from a vibrant, bright orange into a soft, milder one. “You’re such a sucker for sunsets”, you heard Negan chuckle beside you, tease swinging heavily through his voice as you glimpsed from the sky back over at him and let out a playful huff. “How can anyone not be a sucker for them?”, you chuckled as you glimpsed from your husband back up at the sky,”Really, I don’t know how that’s even possible.” Smiling your eyes swayed over the colors again, taking them in one by one, from the almost lavenderlike lilac,,  to the soft pink to the warm orange. ”They’re some of the only things you can count on always being beautiful, no matter how awful everything gets. Same thing with those wildflowers”, you mumbled, sighing softly as you cuddled into to the cushions underneath your body, ”I know that sounds cheesy but they’re little reminders that not everything pretty is lost...i just-...I really like that.” You almost waited for Negan to say something, either agree with you or tease you a little more but instead, you could see him looking at you from the corner of your eyes, silently while you’d talked.  Moving your head you found his hazel eyes traveling over your face, a loving, warm look stuck within them while a soft smile played around his lips. “Mhm?”, you hummed, almost waiting for him to say something but instead of hearing his voice, you saw him slowly moving in, grasping your face with one of his large hands before his lips met yours in a deep kiss.  Sighing into him you kissed him back, feeling his soft lips caressing over yours while his beard stubble scrapped softly against your skin and his thumb stroke gently along your cheek. “Just fuckin’ love listening to you ramble all excited”, Negan finally mumbled as he let slowly go of his lips, though remained close as he gave you a grin,”You know that. I could hear you ramble ‘bout dog shit and I’d still listen.” Your smile mixed with a grin as you glimpsed up at him, still feeling his fingers brushing softly up and down the side of his face as he nodded at you. “So go on”, he grumbled with a grin while another chuckle fell from his lips,”I wanna hear more.” “About the dog shit or what?”, you mumbled back, watching a laugh fall from Negan’s lips as he moved his hand to give your waist a playful pinch. “’Bout the fuckin’ sunsets!” “Well this is not a complain, but you brought me out of my flow”, you mumbled, leaning up to peck his lips softly before you leaned back and watched him wink at you. “You’ll find back into it.”

You did. Somehow at least. You found yourself chatting and laughing with him while the sky turned more and more into a variety of purple and dark, lavish blue, revealing the stars the day had been hiding. Cuddled up underneath one of the blankets and enclosed in Negan’s warmth you were fully happy and peaceful, just happy about the present moment. Not thinking about the past, not worrying about the future.  

11 days after Maggie’s arrival A yawn fell from your lips as you moved through the bathroom, massaging some moisturizer into your face’s tried skin as you stumbled through the door into the bedroom and found Negan already laying in bed, reading one of the books he’d taken from the farmhouse. “It’s good?”, you asked as you shut the lights down in the bathroom and closed the door behind yourself, watching as Negan’s glance quickly moved up from the pages. “Hell yeah”, he chuckled, nodding towards the book as he let out a small groan, “I need ya to read it when I’m done. Really, need someone to talk to about the fuckery that’s happening in here.” “Alright, I will”, you chuckled back, strolling over to the bed while Negan kept talking. “I mean the characters in here are awesome but fuck, there’s this one couple that’s just getting on my nuts”, he sighed as you moved in to crawl into the bed and slip underneath the warm sheets to him,”Kinda remind me of Sarah and that douchey guy from that trashy show.” “Chad?”, you asked, watching him snip his fingers as he let out a thick laugh. “Yep!”, he called out, snickering as you moved in to cuddle up into his side and allowed him to wrap his arm around you,”Fuck, it’s always’s a Chad, huh?” “Always”, you chuckled, sinking a little deeper into the cushions of the bed as you nodded towards the book, “You wanna tell me what they’re doing to be so awful?” “Don’t wanna spoiler you”, Negan grumbled, stopping for a moment as if he was pondering before he let out a sigh,”They’re just being annoying fucks all the time, fucking shit up for everyone else.” “Yeah, sounds a lot like Sarah and Chad”, you mumbled back, chuckling softly as you leaned in to nuzzle your head against his bare shoulder. “Done with the book for today?”, Negan asked, nodding towards the handbook that laid on your nightstand while you slowly nodded. “Yeah”, you mumbled, glimpsing at the book for a moment before you cuddled closer again,”Too sleepy to do more, don’t wanna write mistakes in there or mess it up with some sleepy messy handwriting.” A hum left Negan’s lips as he reached for his bookmark and slipped it between the open pages, shutting it before he laid it back onto his nightstand. “You don’t have to stop for me”, you mumbled, nuzzling your nose into his skin before you felt Negan moving over the mattress. “Mhm but I want to”, he mumbled, turning himself so he could roll onto his side, pull you closer against him and meet your lips in a slow kiss. Smiling against his lips you huddled up closer, running your hand up his chest until you could toy softly with his chesthair and hear a deep hum rumble up his throat.  Sighing he slowly started to let go of you, moving his hand in to tease his thumb over your jaw while his eyes ran over your face. For a few moments it was quiet and you just found yourself glancing at him, your eyes running over his handsome face, those puppy eyes and the salt and pepper beard that was just slightly longer than usual before he thickly gulped. “How long do you think this all will go well?”, he finally spoke out, his voice heavy as he bit his lip. “Each time I only see her from afar I feel like she’s more tense...no matter how much she tries to ignore me ”, he added, sighing heavily as he shook his head slightly,”Like some fucking vulcano that’s gonna break out at some point.” “I don’t know”, you finally whispered truthfully, swallowing heavily as you tried to find no let any of your fears get the best of you,”I just know that we’ll deal with it...like we’ve done with everything else” Your voice was quiet but hopeful as you glanced up at him, your fingers moving from his chest to his face as you softly ran your fingertips through his beard, just in the very same way that usually made him relax “And Carol still has to hold up her end of the bargain, she told me she would. She’s been in and out of Alexandria for the last couple days but if I see her next time, I’ll make sure to remind her of what she said to me”, you said, stopping your soft movements for a moment as you made sure to keep his eyes looked onto yours. “We’ll find a way”, you mumbled, before a small sigh slipped from your lips as you cuddled closer into his embrace,”I don’t know how yet but we will, this is our home and I wanna build our future here...I’m not giving up on that.”

[isthisthingeven0n]

yellow : s.r

after a mission that targets couples, spencer realises how much you truly mean to him back home (4.1k oops) 

shameless plug but i have an etsy shop (10% off on tote bags until 2nd december!) 

criminal minds masterlist 

(also the case idea is just something i came up with! please do not steal my ideas/work or repost elsewhere without permission. thank you!) 

Warmth. That was the first thing you noticed when you woke up. Warmth radiating from the sunlight filtering through your blinds, warmth from your boyfriend who you were curled up against and warmth from your cheeks as the events of last night replay in your mind.

Yet, as always, those are short lived once your alarm clock sounds.

Spencer stirs upon hearing the repetitive beeping. His arm tightens around your waist as you move away to press snooze and his breath fans across your neck as he chuckles.

“Good morning,” He whispers, shuffling to kiss your jaw sweetly until you turn to face him. “every morning I’m amazed at how beautiful you look.” Spencer admits candidly.

“That’s because I haven’t opened my mouth yet and you can’t smell my morning breath.” You mutter, unable to take him seriously as his curls point in every direction and sleep laces his tone. “You’re something else, you know that, Spence?” You chuckle, lifting an arm up as you brush your hand across his face.

Humming in response, Spencer begins to open his eyes. “You know, around 50% of adults in America suffer from morning breath, the ADA has researched it’s caused by bacteria in your mouth building from food particles between your teeth, gum line and tongue.” He explains, watching as you roll your eyes. “And yes, I do know I’m something else, you tell me most days, except yesterday.” A smile lines Spencer’s lips as he pictures the exact moment. “Yesterday you called me a fucking God.” He chuckles as you groan, lifting your hands to cover your face.

“Please, just forget that.” You tell him through your hands whilst Spencer shuffles as his body rests above yours.

“Y/n, open your eyes.” He whispers, and as you move your hands Spencer leans down, kissing you softly. Pulling away, he sighs happily. “I love you, but I need to brush my teeth.” He announces and rises from bed, heading to the bathroom as your laughter lines the corridor.

The sound of your phone buzzing interrupts your thoughts as you reach over and unlock it. For a moment you allow your eyes to adjust to the brightness glaring into your retinas.

“Spence?” You call out as you force yourself from the cocoon of your bed as you shove your feet into your slippers.

As you exit your bedroom, you meet Spencer halfway to the bathroom as he looks at you with wide eyes whilst a toothbrush hangs out of his mouth, toothpaste marking the corners of his lips.

“Penelope texted me, she assumed your phone was downstairs,” Which was true, and Penelope knew Spencer well enough to know such. “you’ve got a case.” You tell him with a heavy heart as Spencer’s face falls and nods.

Retreating back to the bathroom, Spencer spits the toothpaste out as he looks at his reflection. He knew this was his job, and you both knew the hours weren’t the typical nine to five. But for once, Spencer wanted to be selfish and stay with you for the weekend that he promised you.

“Hey,” You speak up as you wrap your arms around Spencer’s waist as you rest your head on his back. “it’s okay, you can make it up to me another time.” You reassure him as you rise to your tiptoes, kissing his bare shoulder. “I’ll go make you a coffee.” You add as your arms slink from Spencer’s waist as he finishes brushing his teeth and turns the shower on.

“Or, you could join me?” Spencer pipes up, a mischievous smile lacing his lips as you pause before turning on your heels.

“Spencer Reid, are you suggesting I accompany you in the shower?” You feign shock, resting your hand on your chest as your lips part whilst Spencer’s tongue glides over his lips for a moment, that rare glint crossing his gaze.

“I’m suggesting we save water, last year alone over 2.5 billion people were living in areas of drought, and that’s not including-” Cutting Spencer off, you remove your dressing gown and slippers.

“Alright, I give in.” You wave him off. “It’s too early to listen to your statistics.”

*

“Morning, sorry to call you all in during the weekend.” Hotch starts as everyone takes a seat around the table, Spencer trying his best to suppress his yawn as he drinks the coffee you made him just before he forgot it as he left. “Garcia?”

“Right yes,” Penelope gathers herself as everyone opens their tablets whilst Spencer flicks through the physical case file. “over the last two months, there have been three murders of married couples,” Penelope begins to explain as she displays images of the three couples. “our first couple were newlyweds, married for two weeks before they were kidnapped and tortured before dying from lacerations to their throats which I will not be looking at on the screen.”

“Same MO for all three couples?” JJ asks, and Penelope sighs as she nods in response.

“That is correct, our latest couple were discovered placed back in their bedroom this morning when their daughter arrived home from a sleepover to discover her parents,” Penelope trails off as Hotch rises to his feet.

“Wheels up in 15, we’re going to Phoenix.” Hotch states as he walks out of the room, slowly followed by everyone else.

“Take it your romantic plans aren’t happening, kid?” Rossi speaks up as Spencer follows him out from the conference room.

Spencer shakes his head. “We’re going to try again next weekend if we can,” A sigh leaves Spencer’s lips as he grabs his go back, throwing it over his shoulder. “but she’s just, so understanding.” He admits, and Rossi whistles.

“Says more than my ex-wives.” Rossi comments.

“How is my sweet Y/n?” Penelope asks as she follows the team toward the elevator, JJ chuckling with Tara.

“She is just fine, Penelope. But she does miss you, don’t worry.” Spencer tells Penelope who beams happily as he makes it into the elevator.

“Well, I’ll make sure she’s safe whilst your gone, goodbye my crimefighters!” Penelope waves as the metal doors close on everyone, and that familiar silence falls over all of them as they begin to pick apart the case.

*

Arriving in Phoenix, Hotch splits the team up and Spencer is paired with JJ to go to the morgue.

“Based on victimology, our unsub targets the wives first, looking at our first victim, Charlotte Yestley, the bruising on her wrists and ankles is much darker than her husbands.” Spencer explains as the ME returns with the reports.

JJ hums as she leans closer. “But overall the damage on Charlotte is cleaner than on Michael. The laceration on Charlotte’s neck was done in one motion, whereas Michael has multiple lacerations and stab wounds covering his torso.”

“Cause of death for both was the loss of blood from the laceration to the neck.” The ME states. “Charlotte Yestley died within minutes whereas Michael would’ve bled out for at least an hour.”

“So he’s torturing the husbands, could be symbolic? Maybe our unsub was married, lost his wife and is looking at couples who have what he no longer does?” JJ suggests.

“I’m not sure, I’ll call Garcia and see if she can find anything out about the Yestley’s.” Spencer exits the room as he calls Garcia, leaving JJ to discuss with the ME the toxicology report.

“Go for Garcia,” Penelope answers the phone.

“Garcia can you look into the Yestley’s personal life, considering they were newlyweds there must be something online about them.” Spencer asks as Penelope types away.

“I’ve got hundreds of photos appearing across social media platforms from the past five years of them both. It seems they met in college and then split up after they graduated, got engaged two years ago and were married at the Hillsong Church. Intimate celebration, close family, two bridesmaids and a best man.” Penelope reels off, and Spencer nods to himself.

“I’ll call Hotch, see if we can talk to the bridesmaids and best man,” Spencer tells Garcia. “thanks, Penelope.”  

After investigating further, the team had conducted it wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows between the Yestley’s. In fact, days before the wedding it was nearly called off by Charlotte as she caught her fiance with another woman.

“What if that’s it?” Rossi speaks up as the team sit in the room the local PD helped them set up. “Cheating, being disloyal.”

JJ glances over to Spencer, seeing the cogs whirring away in his brain. “Rossi, you and Lewis spoke with the Littlewoods daughter, right?” Spencer asks as he walks over to the board, looking through all of the photos.

“Yeah, she said how her parents weren’t sharing a bed anymore, they were in the process of separating.” Tara comments and Hotch straightens up as Spencer turns on his heels.

“Rossi is right, it’s all about being disloyal. The unsub is projecting onto these couples, finding out about their personal lives or seeing snippets of them and punishing them for cheating or harming one another.” Spencer explains, and Hotch nods as he glances around at the rest of the team.

“I think we’re ready to deliver the profile, guys.” Hotch states as he closes his case file, heading out to speak with the deputy.

*

“So, how’s it going?” Your voice filled with curiosity is the only thing that can soothe Spencer’s thoughts as he lies down on the firm hotel mattress.

A long exhale leaves Spencer’s lips. “We’ve delivered the profile, now we’re just trying to narrow the search down.” Spencer explains, hearing the faint sound of the TV playing in your house. “How was work today?”

“Same old same old.” You chuckle as you busy yourself, unable to sit still without him at home with you. “My Mom came by earlier, she says hi.” You add shyly, despite having been together for two years, your parents visiting was an infrequent occurrence.

A small smile forms on Spencer’s lips as he listens to you, the normality he craves in his life. “How is she? Did your Dad abandon her like last time at the airport?” He asks through the line as he closes his eyes, listening to your story as you ramble on about all the things your Mom picked out about your house and about Spencer.

“And then she had the cheek to say you’re never here! Like, where is my Dad?” You scoff, hearing a gentle hum on the other end of the line. “Sorry, I got a bit lost there.”

“S’okay.” Spencer mumbles, his eyes unable to open again. “I’m hoping we’ll be flying back within the next week, sorry.”

You finally pause as you rest your hand on the back of Spencer’s beloved armchair beside his old bookcase. Forcing your smile to remain in place, you nod to yourself. “I get that, serial killers don’t have a care for date nights and the lives of others.” You laugh dryly, something that doesn’t go undetected by Spencer.

“I’ll make it up to you, I promise.” Spencer whispers to you, picturing you in front of him when he opens his eyes, only to be greeted by the tap leaking in his bathroom sink.

“Just, keep safe and find the son of a bitch, yeah?” You mutter. “I love you, Spencer.” You add, moving to sit in his armchair as you wrap his blanket around him, his aftershave weaved into the fabric.

“I love you too.” He whispers.

As you hang up, the tiredness Spencer previously had has vanished as he faces the ceiling, staring at the Artex wishing you could be by his side.

*

“Another couple has been taken from their home,” Hotch announces as he enters the conference room, everyone turning to look at him. “Maria King, 81 and Jacob King, 85. Their neighbour suspected something was wrong when they noticed their front door was wide open.”

“So our unsub has taken them to a secondary location?” JJ asks as Hotch nods in response.

“We’ve got a lead currently on where they might be held, but we’ll have to move quickly.” Hotch states as he exits the conference room, the rest of the team filing out straight to the lockers.

There was an unsteady tension in the two SUV’s on the drive to the abandoned farmhouse. Everyone was thinking the same thing, why the unsub would take an elderly couple.

“He’s clearly escalating from our profile.” Tara states as she sits in the passenger seat. “Garcia, was there any sign of an affair from either Maria or Jacob King?”

The sound of Penelope rapidly typing echoes through the line until it suddenly stops. “Nope, Maria and Jacob recently celebrated their sixtieth wedding anniversary, and it seems they’ve never been more in love.” Sadness coats Penelope’s voice as she looks through the photos of the couple. “The owner of the farmhouse is Tyler Edwards, however, Edwards sold the property last month to Lewis Wise. Unlike his name, Lewis was not the wisest in life. It seems that his wife, Clara, was on her way home from a business trip and died in a car crash.” Penelope explains, but a small gasp leaves her lips.

“What is it, Garcia?” Spencer chimes in, and the sound of typing increases.

“Well, turns out Clara was not coming back from a business trip, but instead her lover, Daniel Lovatt.”

“That could be our trigger,” Tara states. “Wise loses his wife and discovers she’s been having an affair.”

“How long ago did Clara die, Garcia?” Hotch asks, nearing the entrance to the property.

Humming, Penelope quickly answers. “Two months ago.”

“Same time the murders started.” Spencer mutters as they prepare to exit the SUV.

“Please let them be alive.” Penelope mutters to herself, closing the photos of the elderly couple from her monitors.  

Arriving at the farmhouse, the faint sound of screams could be heard as the team exit the SUV’s.

“JJ, you, Lewis and Rossi take the back entrance, Reid, we’ll go through the front.” Hotch explains, and with everyone in understanding, the team split up.

Following Hotch, Reid tried not to focus on the cries for help from the strained voices inside.

“Just, shut up!” The unsub exclaims.

“Please, my wife, she’s hurt. We need help.” A new voice, Jacob King cries out to the unsub.

“She won’t need help for much longer, I can promise you that.” A sick laugh follows and Hotch kicks the door down, running forward with his gun aimed at the unsub.

“FBI, drop the weapon!” Hotch yells as the unsub is standing behind Maria, his knife against her neck as her eyes continue to drop, she’s already losing blood.

“Lewis, just drop the knife. This couple, they’ve done nothing wrong.” Spencer speaks up, seeing the rest of the team enter from the back of the farmhouse, slowly walking forward, guns aimed at Wise.

“They have! Look at them, they, they hate each other!” Lewis spews as Jacob sobs quietly, his fingers intertwined with Maria’s.

“No, they don’t. Lewis, I know what happened to your wife, and I’m so sorry.” Spencer hesitantly steps forward, Hotch keeping his eyes trained on Wise. “But you don’t have to do this, there’s another option.” Spencer’s voice remains soft as he glances down to the couple and flashes a brief smile.

“I can’t, they need to be punished.” Lewis states as a whimper leaves Maria’s lips.

“Lewis, just put the knife down and we’ll talk.” Spencer reasons. “Here, I’ll put my gun down, how about that?” Spencer slowly lowers his gun to the floor, ignoring the worried looks from his team behind Lewis.

“But they are bad people.” Lewis repeats, his eyes darting from the couple to Spencer. “I, I won’t let them get away with it.” Lewis yells, and before he’s able to apply more pressure to Maria’s neck, shots are fired and Lewis falls backwards.

“Oh my god,” Jacob cries as his wife falls into his embrace.

“We need medics here, now!” Hotch speaks into his earpiece whilst Spencer rushes over, quickly followed by JJ.

“Medic’s are coming, you’ll both be all right.” JJ assures the couple as Maria looks up at Jacob with such adoration as he wipes her tears.

“I’ll always love you, Maria.” Jacob tells his wife as she shushes him. “No, no let me say this,” His voice cracks, and JJ looks up at the sound of sirens in the distance. “you were my first love, and you’ll always be my last.” Jacob sniffs as Spencer keeps pressure on the stab wound on her side, trying to ignore how blood is seeping through her top.

“I love you,” Maria breathes out as her eyes start to close, but Jacob protests.

“Don’t go yet honey, there’s so much more for us to do.” Jacob cries out, just as the medics arrive.

Stepping back, JJ rests her arm on Spencer as she guides him out from the farmhouse as they join the rest of the team, witnessing Lewis Wise being taken away.

“You okay, Spence?” JJ looks up as Spencer focuses on the police car as it drives away, his gaze shifting to the Kings sat in the back of the ambulance, still together, holding hands.

“Yeah, yeah.” Spencer nods, tearing his eyes from the couple as the image of you crosses his mind. “Just thinking about a few things, that’s all.”

“Wanna share?” JJ enquires, raising a brow to Spencer.

Yet, a small smile forms on Spencer’s lips as he shacks his head. “Maybe some other time, let’s go.”

*

For the entire flight home, Spencer could only think of one thing; you.

As soon as they arrived back at HQ, Garcia enveloped the team into a tight hug. “Oh thank god, you’re all safe and home.” She gushed as the team entered the bullpen one by one, Spencer last.

“Our angel came in yesterday for a visit.” Penelope speaks up as she walks alongside Spencer into the bullpen.

“She did?” The surprise is evident in Spencer’s tone, in the two years you’ve been together, you’ve visited the bureau a grand total of three times.

Penelope nods, trying to hide her growing smile. “She erm, left you something on your desk.” With that, Penelope rushes over to the others, having a hushed conversation whilst Spencer nears his desk.

Standing in front of it, nothing looks out of place. He knows exactly where he left the seventeen case files on the right-hand side just below his phone set. The pen pot still has three blue pens and two black, his monitor is off and the keyboard is parallel to the mouse.

“What did she leave?” Spencer calls out to Penelope as he spins in his chair, looking over as the team stand together, trying not to make it obvious they’re spying on him.

“Erm, try the second drawer?” Penelope answers and Spencer nods before turning back to his desk and opens the second drawer down.

Inside is an envelope with his name written across the front. Lifting it up, Spencer wastes no time opening it like a child on Christmas day, revealing an invitation for dinner, tomorrow night.

Unable to hide it, a blush rises through Spencer’s cheeks as he chuckles under his breath. You always have been one for extravagances, but that’s just one of the many things he loves about you.

Rising to his feet, Spencer slips the invitation into his satchel. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

“Bye, Spencer!” Penelope waves as Spencer tries to hide his eagerness to get home as he lightly jogs to the lift, his foot tapping against the floor as he waits for the doors to open.

Once they do, he slides in and once out of sight, the team turn their attention back to Penelope.

“What was in that envelope?” Rossi raises a brow to the tech wiz who merely shrugs her shoulders.

“I have no idea, Y/n knows better than to tell me these things.” Penelope explains, but there’s a hesitance in her tone the team know all too well. “But I may have taken a look at her recent search history and found out she’s booked a table for 7pm tomorrow evening at Spencer’s favourite restaurant.”

JJ chuckles to herself as she pats Penelope’s arm. “Couldn’t keep out, could you?”

Lowering her head in defeat, Penelope nods.

“Come on, how about a drink to celebrate another case?” Rossi suggests, and the team all gratefully agree. “And maybe Penelope will spill what else she knows about the future Mr and Mrs Reid.”

*

Pulling up outside of your apartment building, Spencer releases a shaky breath as he heads up to your floor, having the route memorised after your third date together.

As he stands outside of the apartment door, he reaches into his worn satchel for the key as music begins to play inside.

He doesn’t recognise the tune, but the faint sound of you singing along is something ingrained in his mind and hopes to never forget.

Unlocking the front door, Spencer quietly steps in as your singing becomes louder and more energetic as the beat of the song increases.

Unable to wipe the smile from his face, Spencer wanders through toward the kitchen and hovers in the doorway. There you’re dancing, holding a spatula in one hand as a microphone whilst wearing one of Spencer’s old shirts. You’re so carefree, without worry or sight of the missions Spencer endures, you’re not exposed to the graphic crime scenes or twisted minds of their unsubs. You are just you, and Spencer adores it.

“And it was called ‘Yellow’ So I took-” Turning on your heels you yell, throwing the spatula at Spencer. “Christ, Spence!” You laugh, running your fingers through your hair as you exhale shakily. “You scared me, when did you get in?”

Rushing over to him, you wrap your arms tightly around Spencer, burying your face into the crook of his neck.

For a moment, Spencer just holds you close, not wanting to respond. He always misses you when he goes away on cases, but coming back to you is always bittersweet.

“A few minutes ago, I could hear you singing and wanted to witness it without interruption.” He explains as you loosen your grip around him, relaxing your hands on his hips as you look up at his tired face.

“I missed you, goof.” You mutter as Spencer’s hand rises to your cheek, caressing it softly as you hum, leaning against it.

Faintly, the radio continues to play as you sway with Spencer before he leans down and kisses you. As always with Spencer, it begins as a delicate kiss as if he could break you, but as your arms rise to behind his neck, it deepens into something more passionate.

You smirk at the sound of him moaning quietly before pulling away. “Come on then, we’ve got time before dinners ready.” You wink, guiding him up the stairs as he chases behind you.

Lying in his arms, slightly sweaty, Spencer moves your hair from your face. Your eyes are growing heavy, and suddenly the words from Jacob King cross his mind as he held Maria in his arms, begging her to stay awake.

“You were my first love, and you’ll always be my last.”

Spencer mutters your name as you hum in response, opening your eyes as you look up at him. Outside, the sunset is peaking through your blinds, but this time it’s blinding you instead of him.

Squinting up to him, Spencer breathes a laugh. “I just want you to know, you’re my everything, and I know we don’t do emotional speeches because neither of us can finish without crying, but I love you, Y/n. And, I always will because you’re my sunshine, you’re the stars that glow in the night sky, though stars don’t actually glow as they’re mere-”

“Spence,” You mutter, shuffling in his arms to lean on your elbows, paying close attention to him as his eyes flicker over yours.

“Sorry, I, well, you’re my yellow. You radiate joy when I come home from missions and you never pry, you always give me time to explain when I’m ready. My family, the BAU adore you, I’m pretty sure Penelope might book us a wedding venue and arrange a wedding soon.” You laugh lightly, knowing it would be the case with Penelope. “And I just love you.”

A tear slips from Spencer’s eye, barely having a chance to fall before you wipe it away.

“I love you too Spencer Reid.” You sniff, tears glazing in your eyes as they glow in the sunlight. “And I’ll forever be grateful to be your yellow.” You whisper, curling up into his arms as he kisses the top of your head, wishing this moment would never end.

[everybodyscupoftea]

pursuit of happiness

college rafe x reader

three times rafe is denied and one time he isn’t

this is literally just 3k words of smut

pls let me go back to writing fluff after this, i beg

(warnings: cursing, smut)

Moving in with Rafe, Topper, and Kelce was the best decision you ever made. You’d met Topper freshman year and the two of you continued to hang out after the class you had together ended. He had to endure all your complaints about your roommate and how expensive living alone the next year was going to be because you had no intention of signing another lease with her again.

Then, suddenly, he provided you with an out. The two of you were sitting in the library, sipping on coffee, taking a study break, when he interrupted your latest tirade with, “My buddies and I have an extra bedroom.”

“What?”

“One’s name is Rafe, his dad owns the house so we get to live there rent free. All we have to do is pay utilities. We’ve been looking for a fourth roommate to fill that bedroom, so if you have no issues living with three dudes, the room is yours.”

Which of course you had no fucking qualms about it, so you responded, “God yes, when can I move my stuff?”

He laughed and told you he’d talk to Rafe and Kelce about it and get back to you. Of course, you were slightly worried about living with two guys you’d never met before, but it was an opportunity you felt that you couldn’t pass up. Pushing the worries to the back of your mind, you moved in and that was that.

Kelce was very chill; his room was across from yours and the two of you shared a bathroom. He was your designated drinking buddy, both of you being huge fans of Claws, and there was an entire shelf in the fridge set aside for the two of your’s stock. Kelce also heard all your school breakdowns and swore to keep them to himself. Sometimes he’d even leave a drink outside your door and knock to let you know.

Rafe was very flirty from the jump, and you were adamant you wouldn’t make things messy in the house by hooking up with him. Then, after several months of friendship, he started showing interest in you that went past sex, and well, he was cute. You decided to give him a shot.

It was great. The two of you managed to keep things chill in the house, not letting fights get too out of hand. Plus the separate bedrooms for a degree of separation if necessary. Topper and Kelce’s one thing was that they never wanted to hear two of their closest friends have sex. That was maybe easier said than done because Rafe really liked sex.

Because of that, one finals season, your most intense one yet, led you into a predicament. To be fair, you didn’t really realize what was going on until he finally snapped.

One

Your stats class had been kicking your ass all semester. It was boring and complicated and your test grades had been dropping every test, the last being a 67. After doing the math with your professor, he told you it was still possible to get an A if you managed to get an 88 on the comprehensive final because it would replace your lowest test grade.

You had been ecstatic, but of course, that also meant you had to reteach yourself an entire semester of stats in two weeks for the final. The kitchen was your favorite stats homework place, there wasn’t the distraction of being in your room, you could play your music out loud unlike in the library or a coffee shop, and it was close to the snacks.

The guys mostly stayed out of your way, preoccupied with their own classes and spring training for football, so you got the run of the house. One afternoon, he got home from practice to see you sitting at the bar in the kitchen, chewing aimlessly at a highlighter while reading about z-scores.

Lately, both of you had been pretty busy, and the two of you hadn’t had sex in at least a week. Rafe really missed you, and watching you biting at the highlighter had him feeling some sort of way. He pushed his sweaty hair out of his face as you took it out of your mouth to highlight some important formulas.

Replacing the highlighter with your bottom lip, you started working on it instead. He gulped and quickly fixed a glass of water to drink while waiting for you to speak to him. You could feel him watching you, but there were two practice problems at the end of the section you wanted to try before taking a quick study break to greet him.

Pulling your notebook across the counter to start working them out, you let go of your lip and subconsciously poked your tongue out a little. Rafe knew it was your focus face, and normally it didn’t do anything to him, but he knew exactly what that mouth was capable of and he missed it.

With a sigh, you pushed the notebook away after checking the answers and set a ten-minute break timer on your phone. Finally smiling at Rafe, you held your arms out for him to come give you a hug. He squeezed you tight and pressed a kiss to your forehead, “How’s the studying going, babe?”

“It’s going. I’m about halfway through the semester material, so just gotta keep moving along. It is getting easier to understand and I’m getting the practice problems right more often than not, so that’s good I guess.”

Rafe brushed some hair out of your face, “Told you that you could do it.”

You smiled, “Yeah, should’ve just put some effort in the first time around. Hindsight.”

Without realizing, you’d started biting at your lip again, and before he could stop it, Rafe brought his hand up and tugged it until you let it go. Just as you were about to ask what that was about, his lips crashed onto yours.

Letting out a surprised noise, it took you a few seconds to process what was happening and start kissing back. His big hands gripped your hips and lifted you up onto the counter for a better angle as he deepened the kiss, tongue slipping into your mouth.

Your eyes fluttered as his hand traced your kneecap a few times, and you put both of your hands in his still damp hair, pulling him even closer. Rafe groaned as you wrapped your legs around his waist and crossed your ankles, keeping him close.

His mouth trailed down your neck, halfheartedly sucking as his hand stroked up and down your leg, getting closer to your core with each one. Your head fell back as he finally traced you over your underwear, and before he could apply any real pressure, your alarm went off, startling both of you.

Ripping away from his lips with a gasp, you placed a hand over your heart in attempt to steady it and dropped your legs from around his waist. Rafe put both of his hands on the counter next to you and dropped his head with a groan, “Please tell me we can keep going.”

You squeezed his shoulder sympathetically, “Afraid not, Cameron. Now go shower, you reek, and maybe after, we can order some dinner and watch TV if I can manage to get through the rest of this chapter.”

He gave a little mock salute with another dramatic sigh before disappearing into his and Topper’s shared bathroom.

Two:

One afternoon, you were sitting on the couch doing some reading for your ethics class when you decided, fuck it, the weather was so nice, it’d be a good tanning day. Rafe was out in the backyard doing a workout, so you’d have company, and you could still do the reading.

You quickly went and changed into your bikini and grabbed a towel and some sunscreen. Rafe looked up from his pushups to see you standing there and smiled at you, “What’s up, baby?”

“Gonna come tan while I read for this final and keep you company.”

He finished up and stood, “I’ll be sure to show off extra.”

You laughed, “I’ll barely be paying attention. Reading, remember?”

Rafe winked, “You say that now.”

With an eyeroll, you sat down and held out the sunscreen, “Get my back.”

He sauntered over as you opened your book back up and picked up where you’d left off. Rafe squatted down, moving your hair out of the way, and started slowly rubbing sunscreen all over your back and shoulders. You groaned at the mini massage and before he could walk away asked, “Babe, can you untie the strings in the back, I don’t want a weird tan line.”

Rafe paused, hesitating, before slowly pulling the strings until the fell to your sides. He cleared his throat, “That it?”

“Yeah, babe, thank you,” you responded, blowing him a kiss, before refocusing on your textbook.

Unbeknownst to you, Rafe was utterly distracted by you laying there. Your skin practically glowed in the sun and every time he dropped down to the ground during burpees, he got a gratuitous view of side boob. You shifted, your top twisting to where he felt he was dangerously close to seeing nipple and he gulped.

After about 10 minutes, you finished the chapter and decided to roll over for a little break. You tried to get everything back in place and flipped over, pulling the top strings over your head to stop that tan line and shielded your eyes to look at Rafe.

He was already staring at you, or your boobs, at least. You quickly double checked to make sure you weren’t giving all your neighbors’ backyards a show, and then looked at Rafe again when you were sure you weren’t.

“You gonna do some more squats or are you just going to stare at me.”

Rafe shook his head and strode over to you, squatting down next to you, “Can’t focus on proper form when you’re laying over here practically topless.”

You pouted, “Too bad, I was enjoying the show.”

He laughed and bent down over you to give you a kiss, surprised when you linked an arm around his neck to extend it longer than the peck he had planned. Switching from a squat to his knees, Rafe put more pressure into the kiss, and you tugged until he moved over you more, one leg going between yours.

You arched up so his thigh was pressed against you and started slowly grinding. Rafe growled and started slowly rubbing off on your leg. Pulling away from his lips with a gasp, you threw your head back and he picked one hand up to push your bikini top off. One of your hands slid into his hair, tugging in time with his hips.

Just as you were getting close, the back door slammed and you heard Kelce’s exasperated, “Oh my god, are you fucking kidding me?”

With a squeal, you grabbed the bikini top and covered your chest while Rafe dropped his head with a loud groan, “Dude, why?”

Kelce gave the two of you an incredulous look, “Maybe because you’re in public. The fence isn’t solid and we have kids living two houses down. Chill the fuck out, you horny bastards.”

Rafe sighed and pulled back, helping you adjust your top back, before asking, “Bedroom?” with a hopeful look on his face.

You shut your eyes, really wanting to, before shaking your head with a sigh of your own, “Can’t. I need to get through these few chapters.”

“Well I need you,” he responded with a pout.

You laughed and patted his shoulder, “Take a cold shower, buddy, maybe next time.”

Three:

It was Wednesday night which meant that it was Rafe’s night to sleep in your room. He’d been giving you some space to read over your study guides, but he was tired and wanted to spend extra time in your presence, so he went to your room fairly early and laid down in bed next to you.

What he wasn’t prepared for was for you to be propped up against the headboard wearing nothing but one of his football t-shirts, that had his name and number on the back, and a pair of panties. Your legs were sprawled way open, giving him a View when he walked in.

Rafe cursed lowly and shut the door, a little harder than necessary, causing you to look up at him in confusion. You asked, “Ready for bed already?”

He shrugged, “Wanted to spend some time with you, you’ve been so busy lately.”

You sighed, “I know, but tomorrow is my last final, so we can hang out after.”

“Hang out,” Rafe mimicked with air quotes before laying down next to you. He pressed his head into your thigh and you took the hint, starting to stroke his hair.

You went back to your reading, trying to focus because it was getting late and you wanted some good sleep before your last 8 a.m. final. After a few minutes of absentmindedly playing with his hair, you felt one of his hands pushing the hem of the shirt up your leg.

Looking over at him, you realized he wasn’t looking at your face, but at your leg as your panties came into view. Rafe reached out to touch the edge of them and you cleared your throat, swatting his hand away, “Cameron, let me finish this.”

Rafe grumbled, “No, you let me finish,” under his breath and you held in a laugh at his dramatic pout.

Going back to your reading, you ignored his pointed sighs and shifting around. When you reached the end of the study guide, you set it to the side and looked at the clock, seeing it was past 10. Rafe sat up eagerly and gently grabbed your arm, but you turned the lamp off and slid under the covers, “I have to sleep, Rafe. Early final tomorrow.”

He actually outright whined, “You’re wearing my shirt, and it’s hot, and I’m horny. Please, for the love of god, let me get off.”

“Tomorrow,” you promised, linking pinkies with him in the dark.

“Fine,” he grumbled, settling in next to you with one last huff.

+ One:

Rafe was gone to workouts when you got back from your test and you knew he wouldn’t be back for at least another 30 minutes, so you pulled your shorts off to wait for him, yet again wearing one of his football shirts.

You weren’t waiting for long after texting Rafe to come straight to your room when he got home. He burst through the door, still sweating a little and you wrinkled your nose, “Why do you never fucking shower in the locker room?” He opened his mouth to answer and you sighed, “You know what, never mind. Just come over here.”

Barely taking the time to close the door, Rafe came over, putting both of his hands on the bed and leaning down to kiss you. Dropping to his knees, Rafe started kissing down your neck and wasted no time in pushing the shirt up and tugging your panties to the side.

He stroked through your folds a few times before bending down and licking where his fingers just were. Nudging your clit with his nose, Rafe teased your entrance with his tongue and you grabbed onto his hair with a gasp.

Rafe dipped his tongue in briefly before going back to teasing you, throwing your legs over his shoulder when you tried to clamp your thighs around his head. He took his time, inserting one finger while holding you still with his other hand.

You leaned back, resting your weight on one hand behind you, the other still clinging to his hair. When he got to three fingers, he nudged your clit one more time with his nose before pulling away completely, and you cried out, trying to pull him back with your legs still around his shoulders.

“Patience, baby,” he told you, stripping completely and getting a condom. He sat on the bed and motioned for you to climb onto his lap. With shaky legs, you crawled over to where he was sitting up, against the headboard, and sank down onto him.

He exhaled shakily, hands going up to your shoulders to trace the letters of his name, and you took it as encouragement to lift up a little before sinking back down. With a groan, he leaned forward and started nipping at your neck, carelessly sucking a mark onto your collarbone.

One of his hands gripped your hip as you leaned forward so your chests were brushing and you sped up a little. Rafe groaned, a bead of sweat dripping down his temple and he pushed you back a little, stripping the shirt off fully before pulling you back to press your bare chest to his.

You were getting close, movements sloppier, and Rafe took initiative, trying to help you by thrusting his hips up in time with you. Dropping a hand, you started rubbing your clit, and Rafe snapped his hips one last time before coming, groaning loudly into the empty room.

With one last whine, you came, seconds after him, slumping forward into his chest while you tried to catch your breath. He rubbed your back gently as the two of you recovered and you smiled, pressing a gentle kiss to his collarbone, “There, was that what you wanted?”

Rafe laughed, “Yes, thank you, sweetheart.”

Climbing off his lap, you motioned toward the door, “Good, now you can go shower because for real, you reek. Please use the showers in the locker room, I’m sure some of my tuition money funds those facilities.”

He stood up and held a hand out to you, “Share a shower?”

You stared at his hand for a few seconds, pretending to debate, and he huffed before reaching down to lift you off the bed. With a squeal, you told him, “Put me down, you can’t just manhandle me.”

Rafe laughed and carried you to the bathroom, “Come on, baby, you know you love showering with me.”

“Only because it’s good for the environment.”

[write-orflight]

Like Real People Do. Epilogue

*Gif not mine*

Masterlist

Rating: M

Words: 2.4K

Warnings: none :)

Request: OPEN/CLOSED

A.N Well, we’re here at the end. Thanks to everyone for reading and supporting. Follow for more and send any request! much love, Cia

Epilogue: Like Real People do. 

The lace of your dress is itchy.

You had gone dress shopping with the girls and you had tried a bunch on before settling on the one you chose. It was a long sleeved chiffon dress with a slim bodice that flared into a puffy skirt stopping just above your ankle. It had small floral details along the top and the sleeves. At the time, it had been perfect. You had felt beautiful, and you cried thinking about seeing Spencer for the first time down the aisle in it. But right now it itches. 

Why did it itch?

It wasn’t that you were getting cold feet. You wanted nothing more than to be Dr. Y/n Reid but for some reason you couldn’t bring yourself to move when it was time. You were standing looking out the window when Hotch came to find you. 

“Y/n, are you ready? Everyone’s waiting.” He says, before pausing. “You look beautiful, why are you upset?” 

You didn’t even notice the tears falling. You quickly try to quell them to not ruin your makeup you just had done. “I just--when I pictured my wedding. I didn’t think my parents would be gone and that I’d have to walk alone. And thinking of everyone’s eyes on me is freaking me out.” You sniffle a bit, eyes going wide when the idea comes to you. “Will you walk with me?” You ask. 

“You want me to walk you down the aisle?” Hotch asks, shocked. You immediately back track. 

“You don’t have to—I should’ve asked before. I just didn’t want to go alone—“ 

“Y/n…” he says, looking at you sincerely. “Nothing would make me happier than to give you away, if that’s what you want.” You look at him, seeing he is also misty-eyed. You nod, pulling him into a tight hug. 

————————————

You and Spencer are married November 10th. After months of arguing over the date of your wedding. Him wanting a fall wedding and you wanting a winter one, November felt like the perfect compromise. In the end, he was right just like he always was with your wedding being held in a forested area near the Potomac. The tall trees with the red, orange and brown leaves falling, the view of the lake and the yellow string lights you had around the ceremony. It was breathtaking. Fall had definitely been the way to go. You also argued about writing your own vows. You didn’t want to and he did. In the end he was right again. His vows to you were beautiful, he talked about how some believed soulmates were 500 years in the making and able to transcend lifetimes. And that while he was a man of science, upon meeting you had been the first time he actually believed that. And that he was excited to spend this lifetime with you just as much as he was excited for the next. You tried to hold the tears that were falling involuntarily as the minister announced it was time for your vows. 

“Um, I don’t quite know how to follow that.” You chuckle nervously, inducing a laugh from the people at your ceremony. “My father used to tell me every time I was upset that ‘a lot of rotten luck means good luck was on the way’. For most of my life, I didn’t believe him. I didn’t believe in luck, just in circumstance and that I was a victim of just really bad circumstance.” You say, you gripping Spencer’s hand tighter. His hand reaches up to wipe at a stray tear that falls from your face. It’s in that moment you remember one of the biggest reasons you loved Spencer. He was always ready to comfort you, whether you needed it or not. The action just makes more tears fall. “It wasn’t until I met you that I believed in luck. Meeting you has been the single most luckiest thing to ever happen to me and I plan on spending everyday treating you like I am the luckiest woman alive because when I’m with you, I am.” You tear up, Spencer hands move to wipe your tears again only this time you lean in to kiss him which he happily obliges. 

“Save it til the end guys!” You hear Derek call over the crowd, which induces a chuckle from everyone including the two of you. 

——————————

You still worked well together. Better than ever actually. The first couple of weeks were awkward as someone would call for Dr. Reid and you both would turn. Spencer would always look at you, eyes shining with admiration every time it happened but after a while, everyone knew to say your first names when they needed your attention. 

You meet Spencer’s dad about 6 months after you’re married. A case takes you back to Las Vegas and unfortunately to his offices as one of the victims recently hired him for a case. Spencer absolutely refused to go talk to him, you tried to convince him to but in the end, you understood why he couldn’t. Which was why, you and Derek walked into his office that day. Derek reaches to shake his hand. 

“Walter, I don’t know if you remember me from before but I’m SSA Derek Morgan and this is my associate,Dr. Y/n Reid.” 

He then let’s go of Derek before turning his smile and hand towards you. “Reid, huh?” He says. “What’re the chances?” 

“Slim, actually. I’m married to your son.” You say shaking his hand. He looks at you in shock as does Derek. You had told him you weren’t going to say anything but upon meeting him you decided you didn’t want to beat around the bush. 

“Spencer?” He says, confused. You nod before getting into the actual nature of your visit. As Derek goes through the questions you had for him, you feel his eyes not leaving you. Once you’re done, the two of you thank him for his time before starting to leave. He calls out to you, you nod to Derek to wait for you outside. 

The man looks at you, confused. “Sorry I’m trying to wrap my head around this. You’re married to Spencer?” You nod. “How long?” He asked. 

“We’ve been married for 6 months and together about 2 years now.” You say, the man looks at you sullen. “I told him we should at least invite you but at the end of the day it was his decision to make and I respect him for it.” 

“And is he doing okay?” He asked, “Spencer?” 

“We’re taking care of each other.” You say. “But if you want to know about him, you have to reach out yourself. I lost both of my parents so family is really important to me. I don’t want either of you to miss out on more but at the end of the day it’s his decision to reconnect or not. And I’ll respect and support whatever he decides. Thanks for your help, Walter.” You say before leaving. 

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

About 8 months into your marriage is when you meet Abigail Reyes. 

She’s a 5 year old whose parents hid her in a closet while the unsub murdered her family. Hotch warned you before the case not to get too attached and you tried, you really did but when she looked at you with those giant almond colored eyes, you couldn’t help yourself. You conducted all her interviews and watched her down at the station, drawing with her, you couldn’t help the tug at your heartstrings. Here was a kid who went through the same exact thing you had yet still had the capability to smile brightly at you. 

That night as you and Spencer settled into the hotel bed, you asked him. 

“Does she have someone?” Spencer looks at you, confused. 

“Who, Doll?” 

“Abigail. The vic’s daughter. Does she have someone or will she go into the system?” You say before rattling off quickly. “Because I know we haven’t talked much about kids but I know we both want them and maybe adopting isn’t what you had in mind but--” 

His arms are hugging you instantly. “Sweetheart, I’m sorry. Her grandparents live in North Carolina and are probably already on their way for her.” 

“Oh.” You say, trying not to sound disappointed. She was still going to a loving home even if it wasn’t yours. 

“Do you want children?” He asks you, you shrug, silently. “Then whenever you’re ready, I am also ready. I can’t think of something I’d want more than a family with you.” He kisses your temple before rolling over to sleep.

You don’t remember when exactly but you turn off your reminder for birth control. 

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

You’re about 10 months into your marriage when you start to feel sick. 

You’re sitting in Penelope’s bat cave drinking coffee and talking about the latest Doctor Who episode when the sudden wave of nausea. You were going to barf right now. You looked around for something before grabbing the nearest trash can. Garcia watches in shock as you lose your lunch. 

“Are you ok? You’ve been sick a lot.” She says, concerned.

“Yea, I’m fine. This bug going around has been kicking my butt.” 

“No one else’s lasted as long though.” She points out laughing. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were pregnant.” She laughed. You looked up shocked. What was the date? You think to yourself. 

September 14th. 

You were late. 

“Shit!”  You say out loud. Garcia looks at you shocked. 

“Oh my god! Are you--?” 

“I have to take a test. Please don’t tell the others, especially Spen. i just-- I need to find out first.” 

“You told me I wouldn’t have to keep any more secrets for you.”Garcia pouts.

“I know! Just one tiny one though until I can get in with my doctor?” 

“Fine!” She exclaims. “You so owe me.” She says. 

“I know. And If I am Garcie, You’re godmother, I promise.” You say, bolting out her office, smiling.  

Garcia ended up right though. She always was. 

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

You’ve decided pregnancy sucks but Spencer made it a bit better.

Spencer was, of course, over the moon when you told him. Immediately pulling you into a tight hug and spinning you. The two of you cried for at least a couple hours at the thought of your growing family. 

As soon as you found out, you went to Hotch handing him the letter of resignation you drafted earlier yesterday night. He looked at it shocked before looking at you sadly. “Why, Y/N? I thought this was what you wanted?” 

“I’m pregnant.” You say, Hotch’s sad expression immediately turns soft and happy. He pulls you into a tight hug. “I love this job but I saw what it did to my parents and I can’t do that to my family. Someone’s gotta take one for the team and since Spencer is such an asset, I think it’s me. I’ve already accepted a job to teach Criminal Psychology at Georgetown. Don’t try and stop me.”You say, Hotch immediately nods in understanding, putting his arms around you again. 

“You’re going to be a fantastic mother.” He says. You can’t help the heavy sobs that rack through you. 

———————————————

Autumn Alice Reid or as the team has started affectionately calling her, Double A, is born June 25th, despite her namesake. 

You and Spencer had been sitting in the house you had purchased months ago in preparation for your daughter, playing chess when it happened. It was his move when you said. 

“Spen, we have to go to the hospital. My water broke.” 

“Y/N, I’m not falling for that again you say it every single time you’re losing.” 

“I know, but this time I’m serious.” You stood up to reveal your extremely drenched pants and Spencer's eyes widened in shock. 

“We’re having a baby!” He said, excitedly standing to hug you. 

“We are. Now we should leave because I’d prefer to do it in a hospital.” 

Childbirth is just as heinous and terrible as people say it was but the end result made it so much more worth it. Autumn laid sleeping in your arms now, her little fist grasping Spencer’s pinky. You never in your life thought it was possible to love something so fiercely, so instantly. But here she was, your own personal cryptid. 

The team, of course, came in almost the instant the nurses let them. Everyone passes her around Godparents, Derek and Penelope, going first. 

“She’s going to be such a little genius, isn’t she?” Penelope says, holding her little hand while Derek cradles her in his arms. 

“Yea, and she’s going to ride that all the way to Cal-tech, aren’t you, sweetheart?” Spencer says, grabbing her from Derek. 

“Or most likely Stanford.” You pipe up, from your hospital bed. Spencer narrows his eyes at you and you narrow right back at him. That was an argument for another day. 

———————————

You woke up to an empty bed. Which isn’t uncommon, Spencer almost always was the one who tended to your daughter when she woke crying. You told him that you should switch off every once and a while but he would always dead that idea, saying you needed your sleep. He always put you before himself. 

You padded along the cold, hardwood floors until you were at the open door of the nursery. The sight before you made you wish you also had eidetic memory, Spencer cradling your sleeping child in one hand, reading softly to her from the book in his other hand. As you moved closer to him, you could make out what the book was. 

“Spen, we have children’s books. You don’t have to read her Tale of Two Cities.” You whisper, smiling softly at him.

“I know, but she doesn’t seem to like those. Tale of Two Cities seems to put her to sleep faster.” 

“Well, Tale of Two Cities puts me to sleep too, so I get it.” You chuckle softly at the narrowed eyes Spencer gives you, before you sit on the ground next to the chair he’s sitting in with your daughter. “Read it to me too?” You ask, laying your head on his thigh. 

He nods, smiling softly at the two of you. 

“It was the best of times, It was the worst of times....” He starts, you drift off almost immediately.

Finally at peace in life.  

Taglist: @haylaansmi​     @yoruebeautiful​ @kianagilder-blog​ @l0ve-0f-my-life​ @bihoeofmanyfandoms @dreamer7black​ @baby-banana​ @drreidshands​ @blameitonthenight21​ @slyskyeey​ @liaabsurd​ @di-essere-amato​ @oliviamaerose​ @nightlygiggless​ @eevee0722​ @april-14-blog​ @dilaudidwinchester​

[settersloveletters]

hello i recently saw a post about sugar daddy kenma and i immediately thought like cld u write an angst (w good ending maybe?) w sugar daddy kenma but he actually falls in love w the reader but thinks she's just there for the money bc obviously she's a sugar baby and her being in love w kenma but thinks o well he probably has other sugar babies so it doesn't mean anything if that makes sense ckfmsk

— 11:11; oneshot

a/n: this one was actually so fun to write, but it took me maybe more than 6 hours to write and it’s currently 6 am aha (っ˘̩╭╮˘̩)っ anyways, i hope you enjoy this as much as i enjoyed writing it ♡ this also became over the word limit for our scenarios so i made it into a oneshot whoops

➳ request: kenma is y/n’s sugar daddy who falls in love with her + angst

➳ characters: sugar daddy!kenma x sugar baby f!reader

➳ word count: 3.4k

➳ warnings: daddy kink + light nsfw

➳ admin: kiri ♡

↳ lowercase intended

[9:01] kenma: did you get the gift darling?

[9:01] y/n: yes daddy, i love it <33

[9:02] y/n: image.jpeg

kenma smirked to himself after opening the image of you showing off his latest gift for you. having been in a ‘sugaring’ relationship with you for a little over a year, he knew what you were into. meaning he knew what types of gifts that would get you riled up. his gift for you this time was a baby pink soft sheer slip on dress. you always loved pastel colours over the usual dominating red and black colours other sugar babies would choose.

[9:05] y/n: baby :(

[9:05] y/n: did you not like the picture :(

oh how lucky kenma was to have a sugar baby like you. you were definitely one of a kind in the world.

[11:06] kenma: sorry love, i was just admiring how delectable you look in that little dress i got you

[11:06] kenma: why don’t you come over tonight?

[11:07] y/n: i’m sorry baby i can’t :(

[11:07] y/n: you know i have that paper i need to write for my psychology class

and there was the one flaw about you. whenever kenma suggested you coming over to his place, not to do anything dirty you h-word people, you always managed to be busy. whether it be with work, or school, even when he offered to pay for your rent and your tuition. you always declined.

that’s where kenma’s thoughts split into two. you never asked for anything really. it was usually kenma giving you gifts he thought you would enjoy, which you did. however, when it came to spend more time together privately, you gently declined. he would never force you to do anything you didn’t want to do, don’t get him wrong, but he did in fact want to get closer to you.

why you ask? why would a sugar daddy that agreed to a no-sex relationship want to get intimately closer with his sugar baby? well the answer was simple of course.

he fell in love with you.

after one year of texting, one year of taking you out on little dates to the aquarium or on a picnic at the park, kozume kenma had fallen in love, with you. to the unsuspecting eye, the two would seem like a normal couple, and not as a sugar daddy and a sugar baby. if only that were true. at least to kenma.

[11:10] kenma: that’s okay darling, you know how much i want you to focus on school

[11:10] y/n: i knew you’d understand

[11:11] y/n: 11:11, make a wish baby :)

i wish that you felt the same as me. i wish that we weren’t in this type of relationship. i wish that i could just call you mine. i wish that i could just shower you with love. i wish that you loved me, as much as i loved you.

[11:11] kenma: i wish that my darling would go focus on her paper so that i could take her out on another date

[11:11] y/n: daddy why are you so cute :(

[11:12] kenma: what’s your wish my love

[11:12] y/n: tsk tsk, it’s 11:12 and you know the rules daddy

[11:12] kenma: oh how you tease me darling

kenma laughed time himself at the banter you both had. you were completely different than the other girls he has ever encountered. the way you were down to earth, yet the playfulness you had deep down. kenma loved everything about you. but he doubted that you would ever feel the same about him. for now he was content with what you had. as much as it hurt, he didn’t wanna lose you.

[11:13] y/n: i better go finish that paper, i’ll talk to you later baby

[11:13] kenma: how about tomorrow we go out after your classes are done. we can go to your favourite café to celebrate the coming of a new weekend.

[11:14] y/n: mm, sounds great i’ll see you tomorrow <3

kenma went to bed that night, dreaming about the moment he would get to wrap his arms around your waist and pull you into his chest as you both fall asleep to each other’s soft breathing

kenma waited in his car a metres away from the entrance to your university. he decided to surprise you and pick you up and drive together to your favourite café. that was his plan at least. until he got a new text message from you.

[5:05] y/n: i’m so sorry daddy, but something came up :( can we reschedule that café date

as disappointed as kenma was, he knew that you would never cancel one of your outings together unless for a good reason. he was too soft for you.

[5:06] kenma: don’t worry about it darling, are you alright?

[5:06] y/n: yeah dw i’m fine, i’ll talk to you later tonight tho <33

putting his phone away, kenma drove off gripping his steering wheel. it’s been a week or two since he last saw you in person and he missed you. he missed seeing your smile in person. missed hearing your soft voice. the way your laugh sounded like he was in heaven. kenma was definitely head over heels in love with you.

sighing to himself, he decided to head over to your favourite café anyways since he himself liked their dark roast coffee. he parked a few feet away from the café, next to the curb side of the main road. just when he was about to get out, a familiar figure could be spotted from the corner of his eye. he looked up to see you walking out of the café you two visited often together with another man dressed in a nice suit.

kenma’s heart stopped. who was that man you were with? was he another sugar daddy of yours? is he the reason why you cancelled on him? were you really just like the other girls, seeking out any man that would waste their money on you? kenma glared at the back of both yours and the mysterious man’s heads. he really thought you were content with what you both had already. you told him that he was the only guy that served as a sugar daddy for you. but now, it looked like you wanted more. and kenma was not having it.

from that moment, kenma started to distance himself from you. he stopped texting you all the time. cut down the gifts he sent you, and just forced himself to stop thinking about you. that was easier said than done.

of course you noticed, and you even tried to ask him what was wrong. always getting a dry reply or no reply at all. you were confused. one second you both were having your usual

fun and playful banter, and the next second kenma’s giving you the cold shoulder. could it be that he got bored of you?

did he start to seek out other sugar babies? you really believed that you and him had something special. a bond that would only occur once in a thousand lifetimes. as much as you wanted to figure out what was wrong, you already had your hands busy with something else, not to mention that you knew kenma that well to know when he was in one of his moods to leave him be or else he would snap. so you ignored the thoughts of him seeking other sugar babies and hoped that whatever was making him sad would cease.

kenma glared at the two figures that were outside his car. as hard as he tried, kenma just had to see you again. he missed you that much. he went against what his brain was telling him and followed his heart, which led him to your condo building late one night. the condo building where you were currently outside of with the same mysterious man he saw at the café. he assumed the very worst. you did in fact get another sugar daddy. and by the looks of you inviting him up to your place, kenma guessed that you had a completely different relationship with him than what you two agreed on. maybe you were just with him for his money. you really weren’t different at all.

kenma had enough. he drove himself to the closest bar and got himself completely wasted. who doesn’t want a drink when their heart was just ripped out of their chest and stomped on. kenma drinking was a rare occurrence that happened once or twice every few months. he would need to be be completely out of his mind to bring himself to a bar to just drink like a mad man. and that’s what he was doing then and there.

after an hour or so, kenma was completely gone. he wasn’t one of those drunkards who would stagger around or outside the bar mouthing off whatever was on their minds. no kenma was one of the silent types. but they do say that the silent ones are the most deadly ones. as he was sitting at the bar table, kenma brought out his phone. opening a text chat he hasn’t opened in a while.

[11:09] kenma: fuck you

[11:09] kenma: i hate you so much

[11:09] y/n: kenma? are you okay?

ordering yet another drink, kenma flares at the screen in front of him.

[11:10] kenma: i never wanna see your lying, gold-digging face ever again

[11:10] kenma: you’re the worst thing that ever happened to me

[11:10] y/n: kenma, baby? were you out drinking? what are you even saying?

[11:11] kenma: oh look it’s your favourite time of the day. eleven-fucking-eleven. let’s see what do i wish for this time. i wish that i never fucking met you. i wish that i could go in time and stop myself from agreeing to meet you. because all you are is another lying slut that would do anything for money. i wish that i could erase everything i know about you. i wish that you and me never happened.

[11:11] kenma: it doesn’t matter. i don’t care about you. i have all these other sugar babies that would come crawling to me. you’re just another bitch that’s desperate for money.

[11:12] y/n: if you have all these other bitches then you really don’t need me. goodbye kozume kenma. screw you.

[11:12] y/n: this person has blocked you. you can no longer send any messages.

after all that happened last night, kenma was somehow in the right state of mind to not drunk drive and managed to message his best friend, kuroo tetsuro. coincidentally, kuroo was the same person who introduced you to kenma. kuroo, after seeing his friend’s text, picked kenma up from the bar and dropped him off at his house leaving the poor guy to wake up with a massive hangover. kenma remembered everything that happened. it didn’t help that he still had the text messages on his phone, yet he couldn’t bare to delete them for some odd reason.

the rest of the week followed slowly for kenma, as he tried to adjust his life without you. fate had different plans though. it wasn’t done with you and kenma.

although kenma had newfound bitter memories, the café you and kenma went to had his favourite coffee. as kenma fixed the cuffs of his suit, walking up to the café doors, he bumped into someone.

“sorry about that.” he heard a deep voice apologize.

kenma looked up, his eyes widening as he realized the man that bumped into him was the same man he always saw with you. oh how fate loved to toy with the both of you. before either kenma or the man could say anything, a soft voice could be heard coming out of the café.

“dad, are you sure you’re gonna be okay taking the train back ho- kenma?” before you could finish your sentence you stopped right next to your father and stared at the man that broke your heart just a week ago. even then, you could feel something pulling at your chest as you stared at the pudding headed male.

“don’t worry about me y/n, your old man isn’t that hopeless anymore.” your dad chuckled, ruffling your hair despite your protests. “besides it seems like you know this gentleman, might as well spend the afternoon together. i’ll take off now.”

your father gave a small kiss to your forehead before getting into a taxi that would drive him to the closest train station. the air suddenly turned tense as both you and kenma looked anywhere but each others’ eyes.

breaking the silence kenma asked, “that was your father?”, to which you simply nodded playing with your fingers. it was a habit that you did whenever you were feeling anxious about something. kenma grinned at the thought.

“i-i better go.” you started to walk off, before kenma grabbed your wrist halting your movements.

“wait, we need to talk.”

you turned your head and stared at him. kenma’s eyes widened as he stared into yours. he could see them start to glass, filled with hurt and rage. hurt and rage caused by him.

“don’t you have some other girls to attend to?” you bitterly spat out turning away again. you grit your teeth as you tried to hold in your tears.

“y/n, please-“

“i have nothing to say to you.” you said, pulling your wrist away. you started to walk off until his voice could be heard,

“please y/n, i’ll give you space. just please meet me at our spot at 10:00 tonight.”

you didn’t say anything and walked off, leaving kenma to watch as your figure disappeared down the sidewalk.

10:30

you still weren’t there. kenma sat on the swing that hung from the big oak tree above him. 30 minutes past the initial time he told you, and you still weren’t there. kenma was just about to give up and go home, when he heard your familiar light footsteps. he looked up to see you there, shining in the moonlight.

“you came.” he breathed out, relieved. you gave him a sheepish smile, before taking a seat next to him on the swing.

the two of you swung in silence, just admiring the night sky in silence. this place was memorable for you both. it was where you both first went out, and agreed to a sugar daddy/baby relationship. you both visited this place often as it wasn’t well known around the community, but was close enough to kenma’s place. it held a special place in both your hearts.

“i was drunk and stupid and i didn’t know what i was saying.” kenma said, breaking the silence. “i was just so angry and hurt when i saw you with someone else at our café. i thought you were seeing another man when you told me you weren’t.”

you stayed silent, waiting for kenma to continue.

“i know that doesn’t excuse the fact that i got drunk and texted you all these things that are definitely not true and i can’t believe i even said those things to you”

“you called me, and i quote, ‘a lying slut that would do anything for money.” you said, a bitter-tone lacing those words.

“i know, and i regret everything i said. i-i was just hurt and the next thing i knew i was drinking and texting you, and i just wanna reverse everything that happened.” kenma bent over, putting his head in his hands.

“well it’s not like you’re the only one at fault,” you said, “i was keeping something from you after all.”

kenma glanced up at you, as you stared at the full moon which was your only source of light.

“that man you probably saw, which by now you probably know, was my dad. he was in a rough spot ever since i was young, my mom dying too soon and leaving my dad to raise me as a child.” you started off.

“he’s had trouble with money and it was becoming too much for me. once i turned 18 i left my hometown and moved here. got a job and worked hard to pay for my rent and my schooling.” kenma saw you smile sadly at the ground.

“why didn’t you tell me, you know i could’ve-“ he started to say before you cut him off.

“i didn’t wanna ask for your help. you already do so much for me, asking help for this matter was something i was never gonna bring up.”

you both stayed silent again.

“so what happened after?” kenma asked as he glanced at you.

“well my dad contacted me a few months ago, probably 6 months into what started between us. and i helped him find a stable job. he came down to visit me after so long of not seeing each other.” you explained.

kenma let out a breathy laugh, throwing his head back as he held his arm over his eyes. he couldn’t believe that he was that jealous, that insecure, that crazy about you.

“you drive me insane.” he said.

“well the feelings mutual.” you shot back.

kenma sat upright and stared at you. the silence returned once again, and the both of you just stared at each other. kenma brought a hand up to your cheek, brushing the surface with his thumb. leaning into his hand, you gazed at him.

after weeks of not seeing each other, or even touching each other it looked like you two were at your limits. as kenma leaned down, you leaned up and the both of you met in the middle, lips connecting as both of kenma’s hands cupped your face. you wrapped your arms around his neck, to which kenma broke away from your lips and moved down your jawline, giving you small kisses up until he got to your neck.

“kenma,” you breathed out.

“ah ah, what did you call me?” he brought his mouth back up to the side of your head, softly biting your earlobe.

“d-daddy,” you panted out, your mind going crazy as kenma continued to plant kisses around your neck.

“that’s my girl,” he praised.

you and kenma burst through his front door still attached to one another, as kenma pushed you against the wall right when you entered the apartment. putting a knee in between your legs, kenma unbuttoned the top two buttons of your shirt, showing your collarbone. as kenma planted more love-bites across your chest, his hands roamed your waist.

you tried to hold in the sounds you were making, however that did not sit well with kenma. with one hand, he held your hands above your head, and with the other he grabbed your face to make you look at him.

“what did i say about holding in those cute little sounds for me”

“t-that you would punish me.” you whimpered. smirking, kenma lifted you by the thighs and carried you off to his bedroom.

once kenma shut his bedroom door he threw you into his bed, climbing over you and stealing your pair of lips once again. kenma glanced over at the clock that sat on his dresser and pulled away from you.

“look what time it is my love” he said softly to you. you turned your head to the clock he was staring at and before your eyes read the time, 11:11.

“11:11, make a wish” you smiled softly at kenma. he brought his head down once again, giving you a small peck on the lips.

“i wish that i had the courage to tell you this sooner.” he muttered.

“tell me what?” you asked, a genuine look of confusion danced across your face.

“that i love you. that i’ve been in love with you. that i wish we would drop this sugar daddy and sugar baby relationship and just become a real couple” kenma whispered softly, hoping you didn’t hear him.

however, hearing everything he just said, you brought his face down to your lips once again, before pulling away saying, “well my love what if i told you i could make that wish a reality”

kenma let out a breath of relief, before stealing your lips once again. he started to unbutton the rest of your shirt as he moved down your neck, giving you small love bites, marking you as his. he couldn’t contain his excitement the moment he heard you panting and gasping.

kenma went to bed that night, wrapping his arms around your waist and pull you into his chest as you both fell asleep to each other’s soft breathing.

[heyheydidjaknow]

I’m uploading this Friday at 12:10 am. Or, at least, that’s when I finished writing this. Yes, we’re still on the angst thing. It won’t last forever, but still.

Chapter 9

“How is she?”

Donatello sits down next to his brother on the couch. “Same as yesterday,” he sighs. “Comatose.”

“I still can’t believe it,” Raphael smirks. “That stupid bitch decided to total the fuckin—"

“Raphael,” he promises coolly, “I will personally make it my life’s goal to make sure you can never open your mouth again if you don’t shut up.”

He puts his hands up. “Yeah, yeah.”

“Will you two be quiet for a minute? I’m trying to listen.” Leonardo kneels in front of the television.

There is a new news story.

“They can’t arrest her, can they?” The tallest brother glances at the others.

“Nah.” Michelangelo is sprawled out on his portion of the couch, eyes dully focused on the screen. “They’ll side with her before someone from a street gang, ‘specially with those…” He trails off. “’ Sides,” he clears his throat, “any good public defense lawyer would call it self-defense, and there’s no way the police would convict a teenage girl of any degree of murder with the injuries she has; bad press.”

“Mikey,” Leo asks, “how come you know that and not how to multiply numbers by seven?”

“Because seven is a stupid number that was created just to make us all feel stupid.”

“Leo—”

“He’s right,” Raph agrees. “They won’t put her away for something like that.” He chuckles darkly. “Besides, there’s no more evidence.”

“After what happened with the neurologist?”

“Donnie,” Leo turns to look at him. “She’s going to be fine.”

He opens his mouth to argue, closes it.

” The perpetrator,” the news anchor reads, ” was found this morning after a panicked nine-one-one caller had seen the hand of the assailant hanging over a ledge. The corpse had, presumably, been flung away from the scene of the incident as a consequence of the explosion, miraculously landing on the roof of a nearby restaurant. The body has been identified as Fong Zhao, who was arrested on multiple charges of armed battery earlier this year. The police have refrained from offering Channel Six detailed information, but we have an anonymous source who claims that he and the gang he is supposedly involved in, locally referred to as the Purple Dragons, was also involved in the hijacking of a truck carrying a substance believed to be tear gas. The driver of the truck testified in favor of this statement earlier this evening. An investigation is currently ongoing regarding the involvement of the men in question, and we at Channel Six implore our viewers to come forward with any information you may have on the case or the supposed ringleader, the recently escaped Xever Montes. More on that later tonight. Up next, a local—”

Leonardo shuts off the television. “Well, there you go.” He stands up. “See? Didn’t even mention her name.”

Donatello breathes out a sigh of relief. “Good,” he nods after a moment. “That’s... good.” He cradles his head in his hand, his concerns hardly pacified by the report.

This, he cannot excuse. This is entirely a matter of his own negligence.

‘I should’ve noticed sooner, insisted to come with.’ He zones out, his brother starting a conversation about something he cannot bring himself to pay attention to. ‘How could she be that reckless? It’s Shredder for fuck’s sake; I should’ve at least noticed the body or something, anything.’ His fingers lace together as he stares a hole into the ground. ‘Even if I couldn’t have stopped her, I should’ve been there, if only after the fact.’ He runs his tongue along his teeth absentmindedly. ‘Some ninja I am. Some friend. Some—’

“So, I broke Y/N’s arms, right?”

His head snaps up. “You what?”

“There he is,” Raph chuckles. “Knew that’d get his attention.”

“Don’t make me go over there,” he glares. His face flushes in embarrassment.

Leonardo rolls his eyes at his brother’s antics. “As I was saying, it’s been pretty quiet, hasn’t it? Since the incident?”

“Now that you mention it,” Raph points out, “since the whole Leatherhead fiasco, I don’t think anything’s really happened. Ya know, besides the Kraang thing.” He crosses his arms behind his head, leaning back into the couch. “It’s been getting’ kinda boring If I’m bein’ honest.”

“It’s that desire to fight that’s going to get you killed,” Donatello informs him, staring at the television screen. “Saw what happened to her, right? Weren’t you just saying how stupid she was being?”

“Yeah, but that’s different.” He smiles sharply. “She’s got exactly no training. As much as you guys seem to have a thing for humility all of a sudden,” he waves his hand contemptuously, “the only reason she got hurt is that she was being stupid, so we’re pretty much undefeated, no thanks to Leo.”

He stands up, deciding against fighting him. “If you need me,” he says curtly, “I’ll be in my lab.”

“Watch it, Raph,” the eldest brother snaps.

“Why should I?” He throws his hands up. “Am I wrong?”

Mikey quietly grabs his comic off the floor, retreating to his room, presumably.

Donatello slides the door in between him and his brothers as he sits down at his desk.

You have been stuck in the hospital for about two weeks now.

‘Technically,’ he corrects himself as he pulls his laptop open, ‘it’s been three hundred fifty-seven hours, meaning it’s closer to fifteen days than two weeks. Why do I know that?’ He pulls up an image, uncapping a permanent marker and working on one of the more mindless parts of his latest project: reviving an incredibly battered map. He already has a frame for it once he is finished, but, knowing his brothers, the fading colors would likely be a point of contention if he did not at least make an effort to make it easier to read. Fortunately for him, it is not laminated. Unfortunately—depending on how you look at it— a lot of the finer details—the integral streets names in particular—are all irreparably smudged and, therefore, will have to be all rewritten by hand, turning a once twenty-minute job into at least a two-hour investment.

He tries to tune out the incessant arguing of his two older brothers as he focuses on making his minute handwriting legible despite the infuriatingly fat marker nib.

“You should have taken her offer for a pen when you had the chance,” he mumbles to himself.

His hand stops.

‘Would it be weird to go check on her again? Just to make sure she’s still alright? I mean,’ he goes back to work, ‘even if it were, how would she know?’

He shakes his head to clear it. ‘Stop that. You’re being a creep again.’

Over those two weeks, his distractedness has become more of a problem than it has in the past in reference to his work. He is hardly a stranger to having a thousand thoughts bouncing around his head at once, but where once a rapid stream of information was there is now an aggravatingly slow sludge. The origin of said mind sludge is not at all a mystery to him, which makes the whole thing infinitely more frustrating. ‘Frustrating? Depressing? Does it even matter?’

He rubs his eye absentmindedly with the heel of his palm as he strains to see what he is doing. The smell of the marker is corrosive in his nostrils. His hand shakes. He sets it down, wringing his hands as if to force them back into submission as he stares holes into the map. ‘This is not supposed to be challenging.’ He closes his eyes, the image of you lying on the ground, a bloody, skeletal figure shaking and begging for your life carved into the backs of his eyelids, a hideous scar.

He can not stop thinking about what you said the night before the incident. Something about being able to care for yourself.

What would you say to him now? He imagines that it would be something to remind him of how the accident is your fault, how he should not beat himself up over it, but all that does is convince him that he should have been faster to act or to respond or something. There had to have been something he, in his infinite wisdom, could have done. What else can he reason? That he is powerless? That he had no say in what happened that night of nights?

‘How come I can plan and build a combat vehicle out of alien technology and an old subway car and I can’t—’

He jumps at a loud banging at the door.

“Donnie!” He can hear Raphael’s wicked grin from behind the door. “Bank robbery! Let’s go!”

He sighs, capping the marker. His breakdown will have to wait.

“Comin’!”

--

The ringing in your ears is already annoying.

You have been awake for about five minutes. You have elected against moving for a plethora of reasons, but the ringing is a relatively large determining factor in your decision. You are, admittedly, not sure where you are until you hear the tell-tale incessant beeping you remember from your childhood. You do not open your eyes yet. You are incredibly drowsy for some reason.

‘Hospital?’

You sit up carefully, wincing as a numb pain permeates through your arms. You run your fingers over your face curiously, feeling for any perceived disfigurement as your eyes scan your surroundings. The small room you have been placed in seems standard; there are a couple of chairs under a window that makes up half of the wall, a television screen in a corner of the room, an inoffensive painting, and a small vase filled with some sort of white flowers.

You feel a protruding scar on the right side of your face. It traces from the bridge of your nose to about halfway across your cheekbone. As you bring your hands down to pull the hospital gown away from your body, you catch sight of your hands. Long, jagged cuts run vertically along the front of your hands, and as your eyes travel up your arms, you notice fewer, shorter scars along the insides of your forearms. You swallow, pulling the cloth away from your body to see long scratches running from your thighs to under your ribcage. You pull the blanket off to find that one of your legs is encased in a white cast.

You blink. ‘What stupid thing did I do?’

You lay back down, fingers absentmindedly tracing the scars. ‘I must have been out for a bit.’ You push the hair out of your face, noting how oddly shaky your hands are as you try to focus on what had happened. ‘Why wouldn’t my folks be here? They wouldn’t ditch me in a hospital, would they?’ You hold them out in front of you, palms to the ceiling. ‘I don’t look old or anything. My nails aren’t much longer than they were before, so I can’t have been out for that long.’

Your eyebrows furrow. ‘Parents…’ You swallow. ‘Oh, right. The fire.’ Your eyes go out of focus. ‘Dead. I was, too, until recently.’ You put your arms down. ‘I’m hungry. Where am I?’ You close your eyes. ‘New York. East coast. How far is the East Coast from the West Coast? I should call her so she knows I’m—no, she’s dead.’

“All dead and gone,” you mumble the tune to yourself.

You cover your face. ‘Focus. What happened?’ You recall what you think is a church. ‘Turtles. Turtle. Oh, TMNT. Where are people? Focus.’ You yank at a piece of your hair, mumbling to yourself as you try to run through the memory again.

The image of that man’s body takes your breath away.

You shut your eyes tighter. ‘Right. Car. Glass. Glass would be a good candy. Could you make glass out of sugar? Isn’t that what a lollipop is?’ You hug yourself tightly, careful of the IV as you roll onto your side towards it. ‘I killed someone. Someones. That’s not a word. Gasoline smells bad.’ You feel tears prick at your eyes. ‘I deserve to die for that. There has to have been an easier way to do that. I deserve to burn again. That explosion was so prettily animated in that episode. I can’t breathe.’

You curl your legs up towards you, using the arm not connected to the IV to hook behind your knees. You bury your head in your shoulder as you force your breathing to slow. ‘I miss her. Where is he? They’re dead and you killed them, you heartless bitch.’

You feel a sob rise in your throat. You swallow it back. ‘Stop being a pussy.’ You hear yourself start to count softly. ‘They’re all dead and gone. You’re on your own here, so get a grip.’ You grip the blanket. ‘After all, who are you going to turn to? The guys who already risk their lives every day? Or maybe Splinter, who will probably tell you some bullshit about letting your pain go?’

‘That’s not fair,’ you argue with yourself. ‘You can turn to Murakami. Casey might be willing to help.’

‘Because Casey’s known for his reliability and Murakami would want to deal with your stupid emotional problems.’

“Twenty-three,” you whisper, keeping your voice even. “Twenty-four, twenty-five, twenty-six…’

You pull yourself back up, bringing your knee to your chest as you wipe any tears that may have leaked out with the back of your hand.

You do not have to wait long until someone comes in to check on you, a taller gentleman with sharp features and sunken eyes behind curly black hair. He introduces himself as Nurse McGrath, gives you a run down of the dizzying number of injuries you had suffered in the accident, what they had done to fix the problem, and starts to discuss what would become of you now.

“The doctor predicts that you’ll be able to remove your cast in approximately six weeks, and that you will regain your fine-motor skills fully in eight.” He is obviously half asleep, but you can hardly blame him; the clock on the wall reads that it is about three in the morning. “The symptoms from the whiplash should completely fade in about three months. If you would be open, there are medications we can prescribe to help with the pain.”

You smile. “Thank you, sir, but I’d rather not.” You are sincerely concerned what might happen if you start taking any sort of medication right now, considering your mental health.

“I should probably warn you in advance that the police might ask you to come in to identify the guys who kidnapped you.”

You blink, confused. “How do they know I was kidnapped?”

“Anonymous tip, according to the news.” He scratches something into some form or another. “I dunno the specifics, but nobody thinks they’re gonna charge you with anything, ‘specially since the driver was from that street gang.”

You nod. “Gotcha.” You purse your lips. “What day is it?”

“Twenty-fourth, now.”

You sigh. “Well,” you shrug, ignoring the pain it causes, “at least I’m not dead.”

“At least.” He caps his pen. “Technically, you’re free to leave, but the doc thinks it’s a good idea to stay overnight. Your insurance provider has your medical bills covered, so you’re good for it.”

“Honestly? I’m surprised I don’t feel weaker.” You smile. “I’m more than happy to head home tonight, if that makes most sense.”

“Personally, I wouldn’t stay.” He starts heading out of your room. “Your cellphone is locked up. I’m guessing you want it?”

You nod eagerly, realizing quickly that makes the ringing worse.

“I’ll bring it right back, then.”

You refrain from touching it until he leaves.

It looks as if it was put in a blender, but you find it does still turn on. A problem quickly arises: your hands cannot hold the phone. You set it down on the mattress, each movement taking a ridiculous amount of time to coordinate as you type like someone who has never used a phone before. ‘Fine motor skills. Right.’ You type out a message after approximately too long that tells Donnie that you are out of the hospital and heading home.

You check out of the hospital at approximately four-thirteen. The trip home is a straight line of a walk that takes you approximately twenty minutes. Getting in through the door with a walker is a bit of a challenge, but it works out well enough.

You lock the door and windows when you get home, shutting your phone off as you crawl into bed.

You let out a low groan as your head punishes you for your heinous crime of moving. You had realized ten minutes into your walk that you were not at all physically strong enough to walk that long, and you already hate yourself for it, among other reasons. As you crawl into bed, ignoring your body’s protest, you still stand by your decision to not take any medication, especially now.

You feel as though you are being suffocated as you cling onto your pillow, pressing your face into it as you cry silently, the ringing in your ears only getting louder in the silence of your apartment.

‘I feel sick.’

You remember your first night here. You remember the feeling it had caused you, the numb ache of loss as you submitted to the situation you had found yourself in. It feels like an eternity ago, now. You know, logically, it cannot have been more than two months since you got here.

You had decided against taking a cab back home. You had the cash, and you still do, in your bloodstained pocket. You saw many as you walked home, and you had turned a blind eye to them all.

You feel yourself trembling again. You remember the first night you had slept on your own here, the nightmares you swore were the product of a mind much more sadistic than yours ever was. You remember, too, the nightmares you had after Bradford, the way that, for the first time in your life since you were five years old you woke up drenched in sweat and crying for your mother.

What possible dream could come from this?

You reach a hand to the nightstand, hovering over your cellphone as you consider your next action.

Slowly, you retract it, letting it rest next to you. ‘It’s four. He’s not awake.’ You do not have the energy to get up to grab the bottle of sleeping pills from your bathroom.

‘I don’t want to sleep. I can’t take another nightmare.’ You rest your cheek on the pillow, forcing your eyes shut. ‘Mare. Why is it called a nightmare? Are mares truly that terrifying?’

“One,” you whisper. “Two. Three.”

Table of Contents

Chapter 8

Chapter 10

[marshmallow-phd]

Catching Rain

Part of The Untamed - EXO Wolf Universe

Genre: Wolf!AU

Pairing: Minseok x Reader

Summary: You were more than satisfied with your life. You attended a nice college, had nice friends, a nice boyfriend. That’s what your life was: nice. You weren’t looking for anything more, so what were you to do when this seemingly harmless boy walked into your life and turned your nice little world into one much more dangerous?

Part: 1 I 2 I 3 I 4 I 5 I 6 I 7 I 8 I 9 I 10 I Epilogue

**

You parked on the side of an empty back road, careful not to stop in any spot that might be muddy. It hadn’t rained for a few days, but with the weather lately, you couldn’t be too careful. The last thing you needed was to have to call Erik and confess to him that you did indeed go out to the woods to take pictures and were now stuck in the mud and needed his help.

A small part of you felt guilty. His concern wasn’t completely unfounded. If he’d had gotten hurt working on a backdrop by himself, whether by falling off a ladder or being hit by a light, you would be hesitant about him doing it again. But each of you were your own person, right? Independent not codependent?

Okay, it was probably time to lay of the self-help books for a while. You took one modern philosophy class and it had been a downward spiral from there. Perhaps it was time to give the supernatural genre a try.

The trees smelled intoxicating. Mixed with the humidity in the air, it was the kind of scent that could outperform even the most expensive of perfumes. It was an aroma that surrounded you, engulfed you in its arms the further into the woods you went. The peaceful smile that pulled on the corners of your lips were automatic, involuntary. Not that you would fight if you could. Despite the rumors of wolves running around, you were comfortable here.

Deep within the forest, a wide, oval clearing full of browned wildflowers rested. Bits of green here and there tried to break through the foliage that had died during the harsh winter. Their odds of making it through might not have been great, but you admired their tenacity.

These clearings were common in the woods and yet, they were your favorite places to capture. From one angle, it could seem like you were lost in a fast labyrinth of Mother Nature. Another, a prairie that belonged to another region entirely. The possibilities were endless if you really thought about it. And each clearing, you’d discovered, was unique within itself. Its shape, the plants it held, the thickness of the grass. You knew you hadn’t found every one yet, but you were determined to someday. For now, though, you would have stick with this particular clearing that you had visited before, as it was close to the road for a quick getaway, should you need it.

Sliding the bags off your shoulder, you crouched down and dug through until you found your notebook. The pages were unlined, which allowed you to right down your thoughts and ideas at odd angles. To you, it gave the otherwise somewhat boring inside a more artistic aesthetic. The plain leather cover was soft in your hands, worn from the amount of use and abuse you’d put it through. It wasn’t exactly common for photographers to write out their ideas before shooting. Some drew out the scene they wanted to capture, trying out different angles in their imagination. Most didn’t do any sort of prep like this at all. But you preferred to write it out, especially since most of your ideas tended to come at the most inconvenient times. Scribbling down half-coherent words tended to be quicker than a sketch.

After a quick review of your latest ideas, you tossed the notebook down and turned on your camera. You took several test shots, adjusting each settling until you came to the look you were searching for. Long shots and close ups, you photographed nearly every square foot of that clearing in order to get that one picture. That one picture that took everyone’s breath away, that made them stop and tilt their head every which way in order to take the scene in at all possible viewpoints. You wanted to them to see the world the way you did.

So in tuned to what you were doing, you hadn’t noticed the pair of eyes watching you from the shadows. They gave off the faintest glow filled with curiosity as they hovered in the air. You snapped a few photos in their direction, still unaware of their presence, and then lowered the camera to look back on the shots. At first, when you clicked through the pictures, you didn’t notice the tiny amber dots that blended in with the foliage. But by the fourth picture, you stopped.

Never before had you been scared by this place. Then again, the only animals you’d ever encountered before were rabbits and deer and other mostly harmless critters. These did not look like the eyes of a friendly Disney sidekick. Ice ran down your spine. You couldn’t run. If it was a predator, that would only encourage it. So, you tried to remain as still as possible while lifting your eyes to the spot that the animal was hiding. Perhaps there was a chance that it wouldn’t sense your fear and would take your stare down as a reason to walk away.

No such luck.

The leaves under its paws rustled as it stepped forward into the sun.

A tannish wolf with a long black strip down its back revealed itself. But it didn’t look menacing. In fact, though you might have been fooling yourself, it seemed almost… curious? Confused? It was hard to read the expression since you couldn’t fully compare it to a human. With slow, thoughtful steps, it came closer. You tried to remain still, tried not to move. The strain was causing your legs to tremble slightly. Now, you felt tremendously stupid for not listening to Willa’s warning about wolves. Was this considered an ironic moment? You weren’t entirely sure since language arts had never been your strong suit.

Unable to keep you upright anymore, your legs gave out. At least you landed on your butt with your camera hanging safely around your neck. Your fingernails dug into the dirt next to you as the wolf came closer, still at that same cautious pace. Harder and harder, your heart pounded in your ears. The wolf paused for a few seconds before continuing on. Could it hear your terrified pulse? Silently, you said your goodbyes as the wolf erased all space between you. Its muzzle nudged your cheek, coming to a stop near your ear. It sniffed deeply, then jumped back.

Your eyes widened, somewhat relieved that it hadn’t pounced, but also confused. Why wasn’t it attacking? Why did it look spooked?

The wolf sat back, head tilting back and forth as it studied you. It made no threatening moves or sounds. The tips of its ears perked up and it let out a sound that was eerily similar to a scoff.

“I guess you’re not hungry then?” An odd thing to say out loud to an animal that couldn’t talk, but you blamed it on the shock of the whole situation.

The wolf responded with a short puff of air before lowering itself down to its stomach.

This was… surreal. All the other animals you’d ever encountered had either kept their distance or ran away at the slightest sound. And yet, here was this wolf, laying in front of you, not vicious or aggressive. It was almost… cute, in a way.

“You’re a strange creature,” you said out loud. The wolf apparently took that as a sign to come closer. Crawling on its stomach, it took came to the point where it was almost able to rest its head in your lap-

The shrill sound of your current favorite song ripped through the air. You gasped, jumping up to your feet and running to your bag where you desperately searched through the pockets until you found your phone. It was Willa.

“Hello?”

“Hey, where are you?”

“I, um,” you glanced at the wolf who had jumped up to its feet. “I got bored so I’m just out driving around. Why?”

“Jiyoung called and asked last second to switch shifts at the coffee shop and so I’m free for the evening. And I’m hungry.”

You laughed a little at her not-so-subtle hint. “Alright. Give me twenty minutes to get back to the dorm. How does brick oven pizza sound?”

“Like heaven.”

“Okay, then. See you soon.” You ended the call and looked up, meeting eyes with the wolf. It never broke contact and in turn, gave you a bit more bravery. Lifting up the camera, you snapped a single shot of the wolf. “I’ll be back.” A strange promise to make, but you said it anyway. You wanted another encounter with this mysterious creature. Gathering up your things, you hurried out of the clearing and back through the trees to your car, still sitting on the side of the road.

It took less than twenty minutes to make it back to the university. Back at the dorm, Willa was lying on her bed, scrolling through her phone mindlessly. She sat up as soon as you came through the door.

“Fun drive?” she asked.

You shrugged. “It was fine.”

“No exciting scenes to snap?”

Her tease made you roll your eyes. “No, not really. Now, come on. I thought you said you wanted to eat?”

Not missing a beat, Willa jumped up from the bed, snatched up her purse, and pulled you out of the room, contemplating out loud which signature pizza sounded good.

**

Minseok growled as he ran through the forest. How he could have possibly lost those three was beyond him. Being unable to find them now was even more stupefying. They were loud, how could he not know which direction to take? He had to be careful. This part of the forest was close to the back roads and Junmyeon was worried they were being spotted too often. If the three them weren’t paying attention-

Click. Click. Click.

Minseok brought himself to a halt at the strange sound. There wasn’t any sort of pattern to it, but there was an underlying shuttering that seemed vaguely familiar. Too curious to just ignore it, Minseok headed in the direction e suspected it came from. Once he found the answer, he’d go back to finding the others.

The sound led him to one of the many clearings in the woods. A person wandering around the area taking pictures seemed to be the source, a camera in their hands. You appeared to be alone. Odd since not many ventured out in the forest by themselves. The isolation didn’t seem to bother you, though as you carelessly went about your task.

Staying in the shadows, Minseok watched your back as you continued to photograph the nature around you. Something… something strange was tingling in his shoulders, like the muscle beneath the skin had fallen asleep. Without prompt from him, his paw moved forward. He should be leaving. Be gone before you spotted him. But he couldn’t do it. Something told him to wait.

That’s when you turned around. By the way you kept taking pictures, you hadn’t seen him. It wasn’t until you lowered the camera to review the film did you freeze. And you weren’t the only one.

Something in Minseok’s world snapped when he saw your face. His muscles contracted, shivered and ached.

Go! an inner voice urged. He tried to turn his body in the opposite direction of you, but failed. Not that way! He had no choice but to obey. So he stepped closer to you. Your eyes snapped up, meeting his own. In his chest, his heart accelerated. What was this? What was going on?

Slightly fighting each movement, Minseok broke out from the tree line and into the clearing. It was obvious you were frightened. And he was breaking all the rules by revealing himself. Logic could not win, however. He kept walking. Even after you fell backwards, he was only able to pause for a brief second. Your rapidly beating heart was loud in his own sensitive ears. But he wasn’t so sure that it was completely out of fear. He needed to be closer. So closer he went. The whiskers of his muzzle brushed against your cheek, sending a lightning bolt through his body. He took in your scent and reeled back. 

You smelled human. You were human. But… there’s something different about you and he couldn’t fathom what it might be. 

“I guess you’re not hungry then?” you said oddly. 

Minseok laughed. Well, as much as he could with this ribcage and these vocal cords. Overwhelmed, he adjusted to a more comfortable position. The feeling in his chest was almost all consuming and it weighed him down. He’d seen plenty of humans on his runs, but this had never happened before. Was this something that would only happen because he was in his wolf form? Or would he still feel like this if he saw you on two legs?

With a glimmer in your eye, you sighed, “You’re a strange creature.” 

Taking that as sign, he tested the waters and pulled himself across the grass with his front paws, closing the gap between you. 

A song suddenly cut through the air and forced him to a stop before he could rest his head in your lap - an action that he was itching to try out. You jumped up with a gasp and ran to the bags resting at the bottom of a tree. Frantically, you searched the pockets until you found the source of the noise, answering the call.

“Hello?”

“Hey, where are you?” asked a female voice on the other end. 

“I, um,” you glanced over him, making him jump to his feet. Will you tell your friend the truth?  “I got bored so I’m just out driving around. Why?”

He almost let out a sigh from relief. Talk of an overly friendly wolf would be bad, especially if it spread through town and more people ventured into the woods to try and encounter him. 

“Jiyoung called and asked last second to switch shifts at the coffee shop and so I’m free for the evening. And I’m hungry.”

You laughed. “Alright. Give me twenty minutes to get back to the dorm. How does brick oven pizza sound?”

“Like heaven.”

“Okay, then. See you soon.” You hung up the call and met his eyes again. Impulsively, you took one last picture of him, which he didn’t shy away from. “I’ll be back,” you promised softly. 

Minseok could no longer feel the ground beneath him. He just stood there, watching as you ran through the trees in the direction of the road. When his senses came back to him, he noticed a small brown square hidden among the tan grass. He went closer to inspect what the object was. It was a notebook. 

It must be yours. 

Scooping the leather-bound book in his mouth, he took off after you. Following your scent through the forest was easy – it stood out like a pink flower in a sea of green grass. But he wasn’t quick enough. He caught the sight of your tail lights far down the road. He would have to keep a hold of the notebook until he saw you again. You did say that you would be back. 

Or you could track her down? 

Minseok shook that thought away. How would he ever explain that without giving away his true nature?

Giving up for the time being, he turned around and decided to head back to the house. There was no way he could find the others now. And with you gone, the elated feeling disappeared, leaving him weighted as if he were being dragged down into the earth. Each step was anchored down. It took him much longer to get back to the farm house. 

Several other members were scattered about the house, either working on their studies or clowning around. Your notebook tucked between his clothes and held close to his chest, he headed up to his room. After a quick shower, he got dressed once again and sat on the end of his bed. In his hands, he flipped the notebook over and over. He contemplated opening it. But that would be invading, wouldn’t it? But he wanted to find out about you. 

So he pulled open the cover. 

Inside, in the top right hand corner of the first page was your name. He smiled, saying it softly over and over. It felt… right on his lips. Your face hovered in his mind. It fit you so well, like a jacket tailored with perfection. 

The nature of wolves was an odd kind. There was a constant urge to belong. To belong to a pack and then… to belong to a person. 

Ever since he was young, he was told about how someday he find that special person whose soul was connected to his. Fate predetermined who that person would be and no one could ever fill the void that existed until that person came along. Ordinary humans would never experience that kind of feeling, that kind of love. The type of love for the wolf that could only be given by one person. 

A mate. 

Was that what you were? None of his brothers were mated. They were all free – some taking more advantage of the situation than others. Occasionally, they would joke about who would be first. Some thought it might be Yixing, given his soft heart and the genuine warmth he radiated. Others liked to joke that it would be Baekhyun or Jongin, the big serial daters of the pack. Minseok, though, had his money set on Jongdae. That wolf had barely been able to give in to the call of the pack when he first joined them all. He was verbally against the idea of mating, more so than anyone else. Opening up to people was not a strong suit of the younger wolf and Minseok couldn’t wait to see what kind of journey that would be once he was forced to. 

Minseok would have been the last person on everyone’s mind for the mated list. Not for any malicious reasons, just because he didn’t venture out very much beyond school so the odds of meeting someone new were low. Or so he thought. He liked being out at the house, being home. He was the very definition of “homebody”. Ironic that he ended up meeting you out here. 

Knock, knock, knock. 

He looked up and quickly hid the notebook beneath his pillows, just in time before Junmyeon, the alpha, peaked his head in. “Minseok?”

“Yeah?”

Junmyeon looked back towards the hallway. “Yeah, he’s in here!” he yelled. “Tell Jongdae to stop worrying!” 

Minseok laughed. Naturally, they leave him behind but then they get worried. He was the eldest, always looking after the others. And yet, oftentimes, it didn’t feel like that. 

Where he thought that might be the end of the checkup, Junmyeon, instead, closed the door behind him and sat down on the bed beside him. 

“Everything okay?” he asked. 

Minseok nodded. “Yeah, of course. Why?”

“I saw the look on your face when you came in,” Junmyeon explained. “You looked troubled.”

The two of them weren’t the closet out of the whole pack. In fact, there were times where it was awkward between them, the role of the alpha and the role of eldest clashing at times. But other times, he was the best one to turn to. 

“What do you know about the mating aspect of us?” 

Junmyeon pursed his lips, thinking. “The mating aspect? Only the basics, really. That when you meet that one person, that’s it. And you’re supposed to live happily ever after.” He laughed at the cheesy line, releasing some of the tension. 

Minseok couldn’t help but laugh along. It died out soon, though, as his mind went back to his current dilemma. “They always say you just know after one look. Do you think that’s right?”

“Yes, I do,” the alpha confirmed. “That’s all it takes. You feel it in here.” He tapped his chest, right about his heart. “Minseok? Why are you asking about this?”

He weighed his options. If this wasn’t what he thought it was and the others found out, he would never hear the end of it from them. But having someone validate his theory would ease some of the strain. 

“I think I found her.”

[bowensbyrams]

the canada dream {02}

n/a: hey, guys! Here’s part 2 of TCD, as promised. I’m sorry it took me so long to update, my classes are back and last week was kinda hard, but here we go! Please let me know what you think <3 

Pairing: Pierre-Luc Dubois x reader

Warnings: a little bit of angst at the beginning, mentions of abusive/toxic relationship

Word counting: 2,1k

Ps: part 1 can be found here: https://royaltyofhockeylosers.tumblr.com/post/627737248109133824/the-canada-dream-01 

I realize there's something wrong the moment I find myself opening the door to my old apartment in Boston. As far as I remember, I moved to Montreal and am living with my best friend Anna... Or was it just a dream? I wouldn't be surprised, I've been dreaming on moving to Canada for a while now. I enter the living room and drop my bag on the couch, heading to my room but a noise stops me. No, not a noise. A moan. A woman's moan. I live with my boyfriend, Thomas, and as far as I know, we don't share the apartment with another girl. My heart fasten with every step I take until I'm facing the white door that leads to my room. Our room. "Faster, Tommy" I hear the girl say and my boyfriend groans, making my skin shiver "Yes just like that" "God you're so hot, baby" Thomas' voice is like a fist to my stomach and the tears start rolling down my face. Not again, please. I open the door and the scene in front of me breaks my heart into a million pieces. My boyfriend is buried into a blonde's pussy and keeps thrusting in and out of her as he sees me. "Hello, princess. Do you want to join us?" his smile is almost wicked and I can't move, I can't breath as I watch him fucking her the way he used to make love to me. The tears never stop coming down and my sobbing seems to make him want to go deeper and faster until the girl screams his name.

~~ I sit on my bed, tears running on my cheeks and my heart racing like a horse. My entire body hurts as I'm forced to remember every single scene from that damn day, unable to erase the overwhelming feeling for good. My phone pings and I reach out to check it. When my eyes catch the clock and I realize it's almost 1 p.m, my heart skips a beat. I've never woken up this late, but I guess the adventures from last night and the anxiety of moving to another country to restart my life got the best of me. Unlocking the screen, I check the message app before anything else. There are 2 texts from Tyler and 6 from Logan, so I decide to open the latter thread. L: Hey Y/N, it's Logan L: I'm sorry for last night, I hope Anna is okay L: Tyler said he invited you two to the barbecue, cool! L: Here's the address and don't worry about anything, just bring whatever you guys wanna drink L: We reeeeeally want you to come, Luc is excited to meet you two I smile at the last text which is formed by at least 10 different types of emojis. I reply saying I need to ask Anna if she wants to come and lock the screen again, leaving my bed and going to Anna's room. My best friend is sleeping like a baby, so I decide to go make something for us to eat. When I'm almost done with the spaghetti, Anna appears in the kitchen with a pout on the lips and her brows furrowed. "Good morning, sunshine" I sing and my friend groans, sitting on one of the benches by the marble island in the middle of the kitchen. “I’m not feeling sunshiny today. I feel like I’ve been ran over by a truck. Multiple times” “That’s called tequila hungover and I’m not saying I told you so...” “Nah shut up” she shushes me waiving her hand “Can you get me a pill that’ll make this go away?” Anna points at her own head and I hold back a laugh, opening one of the cabinets where she showed me the medicines were. Handing her an Aspirin and a cup of water, I go back to the stove and turn it down, taking the pan to the island. Anna takes the pill and sighs, looking at the food. "Is this a dream?" my best friend asks when I put a plate in front of her and lets out a small moan when she takes the first bite "Honestly, if I had known you could cook like this, I would've invited you to move in with me way earlier" "Oh, don't get to used to it. My cooking knowledge is resumed to spaghetti, lasagna and burgers" "Who said we need more than that to survive?" Anna looks at me with an offended look making me laugh. We're half way through our meal until I decided to tell her about the barbecue. "So Logan and the other boys are hosting a barbecue today and they want us to come. It'll be just us, them, Tyler's girlfriend and that other guy they were telling us about yesterday. You in?" "As long as Logan keeps his alcohol to himself, I see no problem" she replies and I can't hold back my laugh. "Hey you're the one who suggested you guys should see who could get more shots in less time" "I never thought he'd say yes! That guy is crazy!" she snaps back and I laugh even harder. "Okay so we're going?" "Yeah, I guess so..." "Cool, I'll let him know then" * "What's up?" Anna asks as we're getting ready to leave. She's in my room, laying down on my bed as I finish putting some make up on. I'm wearing a long sleeved shirt with a jeans skirt and snickers since the weather gods decided to send a chill night to break the living hell temperatures of the day. Me and An spent the entire day laying on the floor and drinking an absurd amount of water while watching the latest episodes from The 100. "What?" I ask and look at her through the mirror. "You have a worried look on your face. What's wrong?" "Nothing... I just have a weird feeling that I should know something but I don't" I reply and focus on applying my mascara. "You're weird, Y/N. Are all americans like this?" "Hey!" I throw a pillow at her, making her laugh. As I finish everything and grab the beer packs we're taking, we're all settle to go. On our way to go, I open my Instagram and start scrolling through my feed - which is the most diverse thing in the world. It’s the perfect balance of hockey, singers, food, friends and family. I look at some of the posts before heading to the Story part. I slide through a couple until one catches my attention. It’s the same bar I was yesterday and I can see Anna in her white and red dress in the corner. I check the user and my heart skips a beat when I realize who it is. Pierre-Luc Dubois, one of the few hockey players I follow on Instagram. He plays centre for the Columbus Blue Jackets, my ex's home team, and my heart aches a little when a memory gets me. "Hey, I just saw you follow PLD on Instagram" Thomas' voice reaches me before he appears on our room. "Yeah, I've been following him for a while now, Tom" I say and go back folding the clean clothes. "Why?" he asks, making me look at him a little confused. "Why what?" "Why are you following him?" "Why not? He's a hockey player and I like him. What's wrong?" "Oh you like him? What, do you think he's gonna fuck you if you ever meet?" his aggressive tone makes me blush and my heart fasten. "Why are you saying this? I'll never meet him, Thomas, he's like super famous and lives in Ohio" "Exactly, so stop following him. I don't approve it and I don't like the fact that you're following these hockey guys. They're all assholes" my boyfriend says before storming out of our apartment, leaving me to try and understand what the hell just happened. I never stopped following Pierre's profile, but that was never needed since I caught Thomas in bed with another girl just two weeks after his little scene. That was three months ago and now I was living in Montreal with my best friend, trying to rebuild my life after what he did to me. I look at Pierre's story again and can't help the weird feeling that takes over my body. I knew he was French-Canadian, but I definitely did not know he lived in Montreal during the off season. I guess I never took the time to check on any player's personal lives. I mean, expect for Mitch Marner's but that's just because I really wish we were best friends but anyways. "Hey, you're on Pierre-Luc Dubois' Insta Story" I says and Anna almost throws the car out of the road. "I'M WHAT?!" Definitely should've waited until we got to the house. "Yeah, he was at the same bar as we yesterday and posted a photo of the dance floor. You appeared in the corner" "Wait... You're telling me that that fucking greek god was at the same bar as we and none of us saw it? Are you kidding me?" she says and the annoyance in her voice makes me laugh. "Yep, that's what I'm saying. What are the odds?" "I mean, they're high since his parents live here, but still.. We weren't even at the best bar of the city" "Maybe he is low key and was trying to avoid the crowds" "Yeah, probably" she agrees and changes focus. I observe the streets, filled with big houses with even bigger yards. "I guess Pierre is not the only rich who prefers underground bars..." I comment and Anna snorts, looking at the mansions. “Should’ve guessed he had money when you told me the neighborhood we were heading to, but damn” Anna says and all I can do is nod in agreement.

*

I was worried we would be late, but when we get to the house, Tyler and his girlfriend, Kate, are the only ones waiting for us. "Hey, guys" Ty greets us and takes the beer packs from me "Logan went to buy more beer, Jesse backed down and Luc is late as always" he leads the path to the backyard and I have to keep myself from dropping my jaw. The house is huge but the backyard is unbelievable. There's a deck where the grill is, a pool with a pool house and a soccer court. "This is my girlfriend Kate. Kate, these are the girls we told you about, Anna and Y/N" "Hi!" the curly haired and green eyed girl says and we down by her side. A couple of minutes go by and we're all getting along pretty well until Anna looks at her phone and sees that it's dying. "I think i have a charger in the car, I'll be right back" She leaves and only two minutes later my phone pings. A: don't freak out and act normal but i just bumped into logan outside Y/N: so what? A: pierre is with him My eyes go wild and before I can process what I just read, Logan's voice reaches me. “Look who I just found outside!” I look up asking God for Anna to be messing with me, but she's not. Pierre-Luc fucking Dubois is standing between Logan and my best friend, how's acting like there's nothing wrong. I try my best to do the same and I guess it worked since no one is looking at me with funny looks. "Luc, this is Y/N and Y/N, this is Luc" Tyler introduces us and Pierre shakes my hand with a small smile. "Cool, now you two know each other. Can we eat? I'm starving!" Logan says heading to the grill. “We’ve known each other for less than a day and I’ve already noticed that’s a constant mood of yours” Anna snaps back following him with Pierre right after her, leaving me, Kate and Tyler behind. "You look like you just saw a ghost" Tyler says getting my attention. "I'm just thinking why none of you bothered to tell me that your friend looked like that" I snap back, making Kate laugh. I decide not to mention the fact that I'm a hockey fan and know the NHL player that has just walked past us. "Nah, the minute he opens his mouth you'll see he's a dork" Kate says and heads to the area where the rest is. I follow her with Tyler right by my side and asking God to help me out here.

[shigarakis-fifth-hand]

Shigaraki x Todoroki!Reader; The Mask

Enjoy the series!<3 one two three four five six seven

Warnings: Extreme abuse, blood, murder, mental issues, cursing

You’ll never forget when your entire life changed for the better. The day you found your purpose, your meaning, your new family.

It all started Friday night, your least favorite night. Your father Endeavor came home early to rest every Friday to check up on your training. Over the week you were required to train 10 hours a day, eat exactly 1700 calories, and to have straight 100′s as grades. Of course, it was almost impossible to maintain such a lifestyle as a 17-year-old, but again, your father was not only the cruelest man alive, but also the 1# hero Endeavor. We’re you almost old enough to leave him? Yes, but at the same time, he would never let you do so. He owned you.

That’s when he first burned your hip.

Your siblings were Natsuo who was 25, Fuyumi who was 27, Shoto who was 20, and lastly your missing brother Touya. Sweet… sweet Touya. Over the years of having children, your father had tried to build the perfect child but had always failed. Fuyumi had been weak, Natsuo had been too kind to hurt a soul, and Shoto was too rebellious against your father. You would be too, but Endeavor had done everything to keep you “right”. 

You were allowed no socializing on the any day except Sunday, you were kept on a tight schedule of modeling, tutoring, interviews, studying, and training, and your father watched you like a hawk.

With you being the last child, he could not mess up with you. You would be the next All Might if it was the last thing he did. He hit you more than any of his children, tortured you more than the rest, and yelled at you more than any of them. And all of your siblings knew that, crying themselves to the sleep at the thought of your bruised and burnt up torso. 

Your father could never touch your face, you did modeling after all. Nobody could know the awful mental issues you had, or the trauma that had scarred you for life. To the public, he wanted you to be the perfect child. Beautiful… brilliant… and powerful. 

God were you ever so powerful.

You took after your brother Shoto, possessing the power to control fire and ice. You could catch things on fire or ice them when you touched things, and once you did, you could control it with your mind. If you tapped the floor with your bare feet, you could start a fire and decide where it went and what it did. You could make it chase someone, make it form a heart, and eventually… kill someone. 

With the power to control it’s movement, you could control the temperature of it as well. You could catch someone on fire and then make it reach over 500 degrees in an instant.

Endeavor loved it, seeing you impress even his fellow pro heroes. Your control over it was amazing, and you were beyond the best they had ever seen. You were a model too, and goodness were you pretty. You had short white hair that went to your shoulders, piercing blue eyes, and beautiful skin. You had been born with red streaks in your hair, but had bleached them out of anger when your father had hit you for not wanting to train. 

You only wanted to have the hair of your mother.

He had knocked the wind out of you with a hard punch to the gut and then burnt your side hip to a crisp when kicked you. “Stand up Shiro. Prove yourself.” He yelled as you used the staircase to pull yourself to your feet, almost falling over in pain. It hurt so much to stand. “Good, now feel the consequences.” As he said that, he pushed you down on your hip, watching as you screamed in pain.

That was the day you ran out of the house, and into the nearby alley, ducking behind a dumpster to breathe. Immediately, you began to switch to a different mindset. You didn’t have DID, but you weren’t normal. One moment, you were crying, and the next you were angry. The next moment, your thoughts would jumble together and you would crave revenge in the form of violence. You had terrible anger issues and a taste of violence, taking after your old man. 

Sure, you were the sweetest thing, but sometimes… you could be cruel, evil, and a demon to be around. But only when you were alone in your thoughts would you allow yourself such cravings as shooting a gun at a bulls-eye in self-defense training, or “accidentally” tripping one of your friends down the stairs.

At those moments, you felt no pity, no love, and definitely no shame in your actions. And outside of those episodes as you called it, you tried your best to ignore it. You weren’t going to stop yourself, because the more you held back, the more destruction you would cause. 

And you didn’t want that, because outside of those episodes, you were sweet, innocent, even fragile. You hated seeing wounded animals, hated seeing your friend get a paper cut, and you never understood your friend’s dirty jokes. You knew what sex was, but why would you want it? 

You had never even felt romantic feelings for someone.

So there you were… sitting behind a dumpster, crying. Pathetic. “Heyyy. Pretty lady. What are you doing out here? Need some help?” A college-aged man started walking towards you, two of his friends following behind. The smell of smoke and alcohol radiating off of them. 

“No, leave me alone.” You insisted, hugging your knees and barely even paying attention as you tried to contain your thoughts about your father, and the searing pain in your hip. It burned like crazy. “But why, you’re pretty and crying. We’re bored and here to help.” 

They kept walking as you looked up at them, shocked and a little scared as they were very close now. “Don’t come any closer! I’m warning you!” You stood up, even though they had you backed up against the dumpster and wall. “Aww, don’t be scared. Now let’s see what’s under that pretty dress of yo-”

In that moment, you sent a spear of ice through the man’s heart, blood splattering all over you in the moment. “W-what?! Hiromi?! Man, this bitch is bat-shit crazy!” As the guys were about to run, you did what your instincts told you. You sent ice spearing through their torsos too, sending them both to the ground. Slowly you walked over to them, rain starting to fall on your head. “I warned you, didn’t I?” You asked, stepping on one of them as they pleaded for you not to kill them. 

“I’m not killing you. I’m just… letting you out of your misery.” Before the rain could start, you set them all on fire. Hearing their blood-curdling screams, you smiled. How nice. They’d be dead before the rain could pick up. Walking down the alleyway, you listened to their screaming of pure music to your ears. You loved every bit of it.

In that moment, your entire life changed. You began your journey on your way to your true passion. You were able to get yourself a custom mask from a shady store in the down-country, and started your new life. Whenever you got bored or your father pissed you off, you would slip on the mask, pull up your hair into your hoodie, and kill. 

Your mask was amazing too. It was a bright red gas mask, which hid your entire face except for one of your blazing blue eyes. It was amazing, watching your victims stare at your one eye as you killed them. They were looking into the same eye as the pro hero Endeavor, your father, and that made you smile. The man who made your life hell had made the latest and greatest new villain in town.

“Again? God, when I get my hands on you I’m going to make you pay!” Endeavor yelled at the tv in his office, sitting at his desk with his feet held high. You were sitting in the chair against the wall near him, sketching in your book. Your father had brought you to work to meet your future teachers, since there was a villain on the loose and he didn’t want you at UA, one of the main targets. Little did he know she was right next to him. 

“What are you talking about Dad?” You asked, looking up from your book. Unlike your siblings, your father made you call him that, since none of his children had ever called him anything near it. He had said it showed that you saw him as a father figure, respected him, loved him, saw him as a caregiver, and gave you an innocent appeal that contradicted your powerful and aggressive quirk. The word had lost any meaning to it.

“Shiro, this villain will be your competitor when you become a pro hero. Look at them. Sources say they’re known for burning their victims bodies so we cannot find fingerprints, or anything. We don’t have a face to go with it, or even a picture of them in general. The only thing is that they believe it may be a female based on the laugh heard, and that they wear a bright red gas mask to hide their identity. It’s brilliant!”

“This bitch has killed over 75 people, and has burnt over 2 million in property damage. This is next level stuff for one person. If we can’t take them down, you will have to.” Endeavor sat back in his chair, returning to his computer. That was about the amount of conversation you would have with him on the weekly.

That was, until you heard an explosion outside, and yelling. Running to the window and standing on your tip toes, you looked out to see the League of Villains on the streets, all running around. Blue flames circled the streets, and you wanted to go join. You had your hoodie and mask in your back pack, and you wanted to get in on the fun, get some promo on the news. The very thought of people seeing your one blue eye was exciting, and sent shivers down your spine. 

“Dad, let’s go o-” You were dragged from the window and thrown to the ground. “Get under the desk Shiro! Don’t be an idiot!” He yelled, not caring that you had hurt your ankle in that moment. With hesitation, you walked behind the desk, bringing your bag with you. “Good, now don’t move. Remember, you don’t get to fight professional villains until you’re a pro yourself.” Endeavor explained, picking up a few things to bring with him downstairs. 

“I don’t want to be a hero.” You mumbled, rocking back and fourth as you held your legs. “What did you say to me?” He screamed angrily as you looked up, not knowing that he heard you. “N-no! Dad! I didn’t- I didn’t mean to say that. I just- eck!” You screamed as his hand came to hit your face, leaving a large bruise. 

“Don’t you dare bitch! You don’t get to say what you want and don’t want! I wanted a son, but look at what I got! Now you’re going to fucking listen!” His hand came to punch the other side of your face, knocking your head into the desk. 

“Fuck, if I had a belt I would whip you senseless.” He murmured as you started crying. “I-I’m sorry… just stop…” You cried, trying to hide your face between your knees. “Oh I’m not letting you get off this easy! Your brother said the same thing, and I’m not making the same mistake again!” 

As you tried to hide, he grabbed a box-cutter off his desk and sent it into your hip. “Now don’t you try to leave this room.” He mumbled, walking out without hesitation, leaving you to bleed on his floor. 

The cut was deep, and you were loosing blood fast.

Only being able to listen to the outside, you could hear the commotion calm down within minutes before your old man walked in. “Get up. Your future UA teachers will be here in five minutes. Put your jacket around your waist.” He threw it at you as you picked yourself up. “Don’t speak unless you’re told to. Got it?” He asked as you slowly nodded, trying to pull yourself together and wipe the tear marks away before two men stepped through the door. 

One had black hair and a man bun, and the other had long blonde hair that he kept down. You recognized them immediately. Radio sensation, UA teacher and pro hero Present Mic with his husband Eraserhead, who was a UA teacher and a low key pro hero as well. 

“Ahh, Shiro! We’ve heard so much about you! Hello!” Present Mic came to shake my head as you shook his, still shaking as Aizawa looked at my bruise. “Ahh, I… fell.” You hesitated, laughing as the two smiled nervously. These two worked with kids… so could they sense your fear. Could they help you?

“Um, let’s sit. Of course you were recommended, but I’d love to see your quirk in more action.” Aizawa motioned to your father’s couch as you all began to walk over there. But in the moment, your jacket fell off your waist, showing your crisped and bloody t-shirt from your father earlier. You could see the burn mark of a hand print even. “Oh my god! Shiro dear!” Present Mic got up to help you before you pushed him away gently. “I fell earlier! If you’ll excuse me I’ll just be a minute!” You rushed out of the room, leaving the jacket on the floor as you grabbed your backpack and sprinted out. You had to get out of the there, to take a break from your father. 

You didn’t care if it ruined your shots at UA or gave you a bad reputation with your teachers early on. You refused to sit there and bleed while they talked about your future. 

As you were waiting for the bathroom, you looked outside to see the League of Villains within the forest. Without thinking, you ran outside and into the forest after them. You didn’t know why, but it felt like destiny was calling you. That was, until you saw Best Jeanist sneaking up on one of the members. 

He had black pointy hair and wore a cloak-like jacket that was also black. Very emo. Slipping on your mask and hoodie before anyone could spot you, you snuck up behind him. Just as Best Jeanist was about to attack and spit cloth strings around Dabi, you tapped your foot, sending ice to Best Jeanist to freeze him like an ice cube. 

“Look out!” You screamed as he turned around to see the frozen pro. “Huh.” He whispered to himself, before turning to face you. With a clear view of you, he could see the red gas mask and knew that you were the one who the news networks had been talking about non-stop. The lonesome villain with a fantastic kill list. But… then he looked closer. He saw how on your hip was burnt to a crisp from someone’s hand, the bruise on your one eye, your bright white hair, and… the bright blue eye. After adding everything together, he realized something. 

“Shiro.” He whispered in shock, before you feel to your knees due to dizziness.

[tanoraqui]

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3]

[now all on AO3!]

Nie Huaisang wakes up from his overexertion-induced sleep after about 14 hours, and about 24 hours before his brother wakes up. He has this time to think

He doesn’t use it to think, because his brother is still unconscious, comatose from a severe qi deviation. Chief Physician Nie Fengji, Wen Qing, Wen Qing’s Uncle Six, and assorted Nie physicians do obscure medical things to him involving spiritual energy, needles, a dash of surgery, and actually more of the poison that nearly killed him, in what Nie Huaisang can only assume is some sort of physician-approved hair of the dog scheme, and Nie Huaisang participates by sitting quietly in the corner until even that is deemed too in-the-way and he’s banished first to the hallway and then, with physician authority, to his own bed

they do search, and find some of the yin-storing grass hidden in Wen Ning’s pillow. Nie Huaisang doesn’t go to bed; he goes down to the third guest room and takes A-Yuan and Granny out for a walk just long enough for a couple disciples to beat Wen Ning enough to look good later - split lip and bruises, etc. In case anyone comes checking the story he gave Jin Qixian

Wen Ning, he hears, bears it with aplomb. Just in case it’s the Wens who are lying, Nie Huaisang doesn’t really give a shit

But on the third day since he collapsed off Baxia into the main courtyard, Nie Mingjue wakes up. He’s groggy and weak, physically and spiritually, but he shoves himself into a sitting position with a glare, catches and holds Nie Huaisang reflexively when he flings himself at his brother with a relieved laugh. Someone pulls him back - “stop putting weight on him!” - but it’s enough. It’s enough.

Wen Qing has three-day bags under her eyes. She says quietly, “That he’s awake - it shouldn’t leave this room. Not until Nie-zhongzhi is more recovered, and has decided what he wishes to do.” She nods toward Nie Mingjue

“What the fuck happened?” he demands, and it’s the weakest snarl Nie Huaisang has ever heard. His brother is already sagging back against his pillows. “Jin Guangshan was actually polite before I left Lanling, but I don’t remember...”

“He poisoned you,” Nie Huaisang says bluntly, because he’s thinking again and that was the last straw he needed to be convinced of how this happened (he never really stopped thinking, deep beneath the anxious terror and anticipation.) “No, this stays here...or can he be moved to his own bedroom?” he asks the Chief Physician. “It’d be more comfortable, and easier to hide his state from any spies Jin Guangyao might have - I mean, I assume he has spies. I’d want to...”

[the mastermind]

A few days later, Nie Huaisang arrives at Lotus Pier and begs his friends to take him out on the town. Distract him with food and wine and cheer from the stresses of home, where his brother is still comatose and everyone is starting to expect him to be responsible instead

Jiang Cheng is busy with Sect Leader duties but Wei Wuxian takes him up on it immediately. There’s nowhere quite like Yunmeng’s piers for goofing around - somewhere around the fourth street theater show and second jug of wine between them, Nie Huaisang leans over and asks, “The next time there’s a cultivational conference at Carp Tower - would you be interested in making a ruckus?”

they’re walking down the street in a crowd. It’s very hard to be overheard on the street in a crowd

“Like tonight?” Wei Wuxian grins and he, too, looks like this night has been a welcome break

“Without me,” Nie Huaisang admits. “Just to have some fun - make a scene! Cause a fun distraction!”

A single jar of wine in Wei Wuxian means he’s still mostly sharp. “A distraction for what?”

“Oh, you know,” Nie Huaisang says airily, hides half his face behind a coy fan and says more quietly. “Helping some of those Wens dying in Jin Guangshan’s work camps.”

Wei Wuxian has never had much head for intrigue, but at least he whispers. “The same Wens who assa- who tried to assassinate your brother?”

“No, silly!” Nie Huaisang baps him with the fan, laughing, and hopes WWX sees in his eyes that he’s serious. “That’s a different thing. This is just to have some fun!”

Wei Wuxian meets his eyes, and his face splits back into a grin. It’s regained the sharp-toothed edge its been carrying since the end of the Sunshot Campaign. “Why not? I could use a little fun myself!”

The next cultivation conference at Carp Tower is in just three weeks, and Nie Huaisang spends them frantic. There’s so much to do, and he can’t let anyone know about any of it. There are plenty of empty houses, empty entire villages - the war was fought in Qinghe only second to Qishan, for Wen Ruohan’s determination to capture the impenetrable fortress clan 

he wants to err on the side of making sure people will have shelter, especially with winter coming on, but he needs to err on the side of stealth or they’ll never pull this off - 

but how are they (how is he) going to pull it off anyway, honestly; there’s only so many times he can storm in and demand things with a wild combination of pitiful tears and borrowed authority...he can’t exactly get another note for the actual Jin clan - 

...though...

they don’t need that many extra roofs, at least, if there won’t be that many people (priority of the Dafan Wens, of course, to repay Wen Qing and because, honestly, they’re the largest group that survived the initial purges, being mostly non-combatants)

he tried and failed to put the distraction out of mind, because there’s really no way to know in advance what Wei Wuxian would do, much less how to handle it. whether it would create a day or a week or several more years of chaos...

and then there was the really difficult part: getting Nie Mingjue to stay the fuck in bed, or at least in his own suite of rooms. Nie Huaisang’s brother was the worst patient possible, which was unfair, because Nie Huaisang himself would’ve loved to have an excuse to lounge in his bedroom doing leisurely, sedentary activities for few weeks. Instead he was out running around organizing things - while letting as few people as possible know what he was organizing or even that he was doing it - and Nie Mingjue was being threatened every other day by Wen Qing and her needles

To make matters more exciting, 10 days out from the cultivation conference, a delegation arrived without from YunmengJiang - Jiang Wanyin himself, and riding with him, Jiang Yanli. Nie Huaisang met them in the courtyard; she stepped gracefully off her brother’s sword and gave him a hug that was, honestly, meltingly comforting and kind

“Nie Huaisang! I’ve been so sorry to hear about Mingjue-gongzi. I would have come sooner, but, you know, we’re only stealing this time from a trip to Lanling for more wedding planning.” She gestured to a pair of disciples who between them hauled a tureen the size of a small child. “I brought some of my best medicinal soup - I don’t know if it will possibly be right, but A-Xian told me how hard it’s been for you, and I just had to try to help.”

offer

“You’re too kind, Jiang-guniang.” He fluttered his fan anxiously. “I’m sure Da-ge would thank you if he could, but...” he blinked away tears. “I can’t even let you in to see him; the physicians even turned away his sworn brothers.”

skeptical outlining of situation

(Jin Guangyao was obviously right out, and the idea of involving earnest, idealistic Zewu-jun in any sort of conspiracy made Nie Huaisang think fondly of breaking out in hives)

“Of course,” Jiang Yanli said sympathetically. She took her brother’s arm back to lean on, and Nie Huaisang took his cue to bow and offer her refreshments and a set - maybe with a view? He knew all the best places. Jiang Yanli, genuinely frail enough to not be expected to do much more than look lovely, accepted

they had a very pleasant conversation about other things - poetry, who was and wasn’t being invited to the wedding, the latest fashions in Lanling (Nie Huaisang sighed wistfully) 

eventually Jiang Yanli asked, between one sip of tea and the next, “This event you’re planning with A-Xian - could it be postponed? Say, six months?”

the wedding. Nie Huaisang’s breath caught briefly - now that would be a distraction in its own right, even without anything Wei Wuxian could pull

but he thought about the emaciated, flinching Wens in the Qiongqi Pass camp, and those back in Qishan who weren’t much better off, and shook his head. “Not for those to whom it would matter most.” 

and, frankly, he couldn’t ask his brother to stay quiet so long, and he really would prefer than Lanling not know Nie Mingjue had truly survived until they were ready to strike back

Jiang Yanli hummed thoughtfully. “What about...two, two-and-a-half months?”

...there was nothing happening in two months, except the middle of winter. which would make roads more impassible, maybe to their advantage, but only if a couple different things went wrong...

but Jiang Yanli was smiling sweetly, like someone with a plan

“I think that would be wonderful,” he said, and sipped his tea back at her

Jiang Cheng punches him on the shoulder before they go and says he doesn’t seem like he’s doing completely terribly at everything, which is the Jiang Cheng equivalent of a supportive hug and 10-minute earnest pep talk. Nie Huaisang is genuinely warmed

Jiang Yanli, mentally cracking her knuckles as her brother flies her to Carp Tower: time to seduce my fiancee, the third hottest man in the kingdom, into putting a baby in me so we can speedrun our wedding prep - for a good cause! god I love my life

[the grifter]

unfortunately, two-and-a-half months is too long a delay to use the usual “ask for forgiveness, not permission” method, not least because Nie Huaisang has to explain to his brother why he wants him to keep pretending to be comatose, when even his physicians are starting to agree that he needs exercise more than rest

“No,” Nie Mingjue says flatly

“Da-ge,” Nie Huaisang pleads. “It’ll just be so much easier if everyone thinks I’m running around like a terrified rabbit!”

“Why do you insist on being useless at all times?” Nie Mingjue growled, a familiar old song. “If you just applied yourself - ”

“Because it’s easier!” Nie Huaisang cried (a newer tune). “Because I don’t want to be a great warrior, I just want to make pretty things and have friends and have fun - and when I do want something, it’s much easier to get it if no one thinks I’m worth anything - ”

“Of course you’re worth something,” Nie Mingjue snapped. “You’re the heir to QingheNie and you’re my brother!”

Nie Huaisang really did cry easily. He blinked away the tears.

“The Jins tried to kill you, da-ge,” he said quietly. “And they tried to make it look like a qi deviation.” (Like Father, went unsaid. Like my mother and your uncle and three of our cousins, one of whom was only thirteen.) “I want to make clear to them what we think of that.”

Nie Mingjue unclenched his hand from Baxia’s hilt, with whom Nie Fengji and Sixth Uncle had finally agreed to let him reunite. “Then we kill one of them back,” he said. “Not this underhanded, indirect...and with Wen-dogs...”

“If I could kill Jin Guangshan and Jin Guangyao in one stroke, right now, I’d do it. But that would start another war, and we could survive another war, but a lot of our people wouldn’t. Only about seven out of ten survived the last one.” He bit his lip. “And the Wens...not all of them were monsters, we’ve seen that, and the Jins tried to blame the ones we know are alright. This will show them that we can make up our own minds.”

Nie Mingjue was silent for a long moment, and Nie Huaisong resisted the urge to shift from foot to foot. His brother was never impressed with fidgeting.

“Fine,” Nie Mingjue said at last. “Do your scheme. But you’d better prove that you’re right, Huaisang.”

“I will, Nie-zhongzhi.” He stood at parade attention.

“And you won’t use it as excuse that you’re too busy to practice your saber.”

“Da-ge!” he whined instantly. “But I will be busy! We need to tar all the house roofs in Ning Village, and find about fifty spare horses, and weed out any spies in our household - oh, and do you have any letters from Jin Guangyao I can look at? And...”

News came that the wedding of Jiang Yanli and Jin Zixuan had been moved up to two months rom now and Nie Huaisang whistles under his breath then flinches reflexively, before he realizes there’s no "Twin Prides” around to smack him for disrespecting their sister

But two months somehow passed even faster than that first week had. Homes to quietly repair and no few medical supplies to stock up on, winter snow-ready horses to find and discard with another trip to Yunmeng, social visits to carefully negotiate...

Gossip flowed, as always. Gossip said: Nie Mingjue has survived the dastardly attack on his life; he’s still half-dead or he’s twice the warrior he ever was or he personally executed every Wen in his dungeons. Gossip said: the witch Wen Qing had seduced him and stabbed him with a poisoned blade; the witch Wen Qing had fallen in love with him and saved him from a random qi deviation; the witch Wen Qing was actually the Yiling Patriarch in disguise and both of the above were true. Gossip generally agreed that Nie Huaisang was still wavering between disconsolate over his brother’s brush his death (and his own brush with Sect Leadership) and dragging anyone who would heed him out for drinks and entertainment 

Jin Guangyao did have spies in the Unclean Realm, of course; he knew their value. His girl in the kitchen got fired over some mistake with a roast, but the guest cultivator and the chambermaid and assorted people in the nearest towns generally agreed: Nie Mingjue was back on his feet but still rebuilding his strength under the careful eye of his Chief Physician, and didn’t remember anything from the day of his qi deviation. Wen Qing was dead, as were all the other Wens - she and Wen Zhichen had preformed well in healing the damage she’d done in her attempt to poison the sect leader, under threat of their own deaths, but when Nie Mingjue woke up he'd ordered their deaths without even the dignity of public execution. Nie Huaisang was so wracked with guilt over bringing them into the house that he’d actually started practicing saber sometimes, and just a little heartbroken over the death of the child in particular

this last, Jin Guangyao found out himself, as well as confirmed most of the rest when he was allowed to visit his sworn brother and ended up letting Nie Huaisang sob on his shoulder for two straight hours. He had to have the robe steam-cleaned, but it was very informative

“Would you like us to kill the rest of the Wen-dogs?” he asked his sworn brother. “Or you can do it yourself, of course.”

Nie Mingjue snorted dismissively. “I killed the ones who were the biggest problem. Keep working your dogs to death as you like.”

The night before they were supposed to leave for the Jiang-Jin wedding, Nie Huaisang sat in his brother’s chambers (as he had taken to doing many evenings) and absolutely failed to focus on his paints.

“ - I’m sure I can handle the lieutenants left in charge, though really I haven’t talked to them as much so they’re more likely to be suspicious, especially if I didn’t get the calligraphy right - ”

“Huaisang - ”

“ - and the Wens themselves, I mean, this has to go quickly if it’s going to work at all - what if Wen Ning hasn’t gotten word around - we haven’t heard from him since yesterday, what if they found him, he could be- Wen Qing is going to kill me - ”

(the Nie sect wasn’t given to duplicity, but that didn’t mean their fortress of a sect building didn’t have a few spare secret rooms and passageways, in which to hide a handful of Wens for a couple months)

“A-sang - ”

“ - hell, what if the arrays don’t work and we all just die - but it’s the only way; horses wouldn’t be fast enough, especially with the heavy snows this year - ”

“Nie Huaisang!” Nie Mingjue barks in a parade-ground voice.

Nie Huaisang spins around mid-pace to stand at attention, one hand behind his back and the other on his saber hilt. A very few reflexes have been successfully trained into him

His brother scowls at him from the bed, where he sits in lotus position as the world’s grumpiest, most broad-shouldered guru. Nie Huaisang braces himself

“I’m proud of you,” says Nie Mingjue

“I- what?” 

Nie Huaisang has spent the last two and a half months careful of every expression he made, but now he isn’t sure what to do at all.

“You’ve actually put effort into this. It’s needlessly elaborate and only just barely honorable, and it’s certainly not saberwork. But it’s...something.” He nods.

“...oh.” 

his posture does relax in surprise. but then, the parade-attention was never going to last

“You will pull off this absurd scheme, and you will not be in any way injured in the process, because if you are, we will go to war with LanlingJin.”

“Yes, da-ge”

“Now shut the fuck up, or I’ll call Wen Qing in to put you to sleep, while I do this bullshit boring nightly meditation.”

Nie Huaisang ducks his head. “Yes, da-ge.”

oh, a smile. a smile is the expression he wants to make

The day of the wedding of Jin Zixuan of Langling and Jiang Yanli of Yunmeng dawns auspiciously bright and the ceremony lives up to every portent. Carp Tower is decorated with even more red than gold. The bride is radiant enough to make the sun weep for jealousy; the groom looks pretty good, too; and they only have eyes for one another. Both her brothers cry, Jiang Cheng stoically and Wei Wuxian loudly; Madame Jin looks even happier than the newlyweds; and Nie Huaisang makes sure he’s among the first to offer the happy couple congratulations, so he can equally quickly slip out and set off a teleportation talisman

He appears in the woods near the first town in the Qishan that the spare Wen cultivators and other prisoners of war are being stored in. A dozen Nie cultivators are waiting expectantly, led by Zhao Huandi

Nie Huaisang quickly strips himself of the outer layer of wedding-appropriate finery, leaving his ordinary day’s slightly-nicer-than-most-would-bother-with finery. He tucks the extra beautiful stuff carefully in a qiankun pouch and asks, “Everyone ready?”

nods and salutes and murmurs of agreement

He briefly channels a completely different work of fiction: “Let’s go steal a small populace.” 

It’s actually...very easy. “Isn’t the young lord’s wedding today?” asks the man left in charge while Jin Qixian, being a cousin of the family, is at that wedding. “Why aren’t you at that?”

“I didn’t practice my saber for a week and my brother got sooo angry.” Nie Huaisang pouts. “He forbade me from the party of the year, and gave me a job to do instead! It’s not fair - I’d be happy to do a favor for san-ge any other day!”

The lieutenant eyes the orders he’s been handed, in Jin Guangyao’s handwriting with Jin Guangyao’s signature. “Well, it does all seem to be in order.” He waves to the nearest guard. “Hey, start rounding up the prisoners - all of them!”

Nie Huaisang had two months, a lot of correspondence, and a great deal of practice imitating art styles. He’d been able to forge his own brother’s handwriting since was twelve - Jin Guangyao’s was much easier. Much neater

Nie Huaisang spotted the guard who’d been kind enough to let Granny come with A-Yuan, that first time, and pointed at him. “Make sure you get all the old people and babies and stuff, too! Anyone who can’t come on their own!

As Wens start to gather (be gathered) in the main square, most of the Nie cultivators clear a space and sketch out a large array in blood, a little from each cultivator’s hand. It’s wide enough for about forty people to stand in. When it’s done, Nie Huaisang nods to a disciple standing to the side with a bow. She leans back and shoots an arrow with a red ribbon into the sky. It vanishes in a spark of golden light

one of Nie Sect’s messenger arrows. It will land at Wen Qing’s feet in Qinghe to let her know that they’re on their way, and she can be ready with whatever medical care and reassurances she wants

He claps to get the muttering, anxious crowd’s attention, and can’t quite help but grin as he gets it. He gestures to the bloody array, reminiscent of a teleportation talisman on a grand scale. “All right, who wants to leave this terrible place where everyone hates you in exchange for a new terrible place where everyone hates you, travel by serving as the first test subjects of the Yiling Patriarch’s new mass-teleportation array?!”

[the hacker]

(a jest. Wei Wuxian definitely tested it first, on himself and a bunch of rabbits and himself+Jiang Cheng (in that order.) He promised.)

it’s a little out-of-character, but most of the guards who react just laugh meanly. And the Wens, hell yes, have been prepped. A handful protest, beg mercy or insist that this is their home, but for the most part, Nie Huaisang can recognize amateur acting when he sees it

thank goodness - they need a ratio of at least 1 participating cultivator to every 6 civilians to power the array, or the Nie cultivators supporting it from outside will exhaust themselves immediately

as the first group is going, a burst of light bright enough to blind, an arrow falls from the sky to Nie Huaisang’s feet. The note attached is from Liu Lifang: won’t take Lianfang-zun’s orders

aw, hell. He hesitates - another arrow lands, a green ribbon on the end. The first batch of Wens arrived safely in Qinghe

he passes both arrows to Zhao Huandi and murmurs, “I’m going to go sort this out. Make sure everyone gets through, stop it if something goes wrong with the teleportation. If something goes wrong with the Wens or the Jins...try not to kill anyone”

Zhao Huandi bows, turns and immediately starts shouting for the array to be checked for the next batch. Nie Huaisang makes some hasty, whining excuses to the Jin lieutenant, pulls out another teleportation, and-

arrives in the filthy refugee/prisoner city with a bit of the ache of an over-taxed golden core. He rests his hands on his knees for a moment, catching his breath

Still better than sword travel. He’s going to bother Wei Wuxian for these all the time, now

the woman left in charge in Jin Guangchao’s place is engaged in a staring glaring contest with Liu Lifang at their supervisory office. But have their arms crossed and the tension is so thick they’re both clearly itching to slice it with a sword

Nie Huaisang tumbles through the door with a whining, “What? Why did you call me?”

“I actually sent my message to Sect Leader Nie...” says Liu Lifang, with masterful confusion

“Well, he sent me,” Nie Huaisang complains. He turns to the other woman. “What’s the big deal? Da-ge said we should have a note for san-ge - that is, Jin Guangyao, Lianfang-zun - ”

She scowled even more darkly. “My orders come from Jin Guangchao and his from Sect Leader Jin Guangshan, not from Jin-zhongzhi’s bastard son”

[split-second thinking]

“Oh, but Guangyao-ge really knows what he’s doing,” said Nie Huaisang, wide-eyed. “He was so good at organizing everything, before da-ge had to banish him that one time” Bait...

“’So good’?” she challenges. “Then why’d he get banished at all?”

“Oh, you must have heard of my brother’s temper,” Nie Huaisang whines. “He gets so angry when one little thing goes wrong, and then Meng Yao - back then - did a pretty big thing...you’re so lucky Sect Leader Jin is more forgiving.” Hook...

“It would be terrible if Jin Guangyao did something to so anger Sect Leader Jin,” she said thoughtfully.

“I’m glad I doubt he ever would!” He gestured to the forged papers in Liu Lifang’s hand. “And as you can see, we have direct orders from him for you to release these prisoners into Nie Sect’s care - so won’t you do your duty and obey, so I can get back to my party?”

Do your duty, the orders themselves aren’t your responsibility, they’re his. The Jin cultivator nods slowly, then bows sharply, formal and faux-friendly. “Of course, Young Master Nie. How good of you to help your brother like this.”

Sinker.

(also not the worst idea, actually. a little dissension thrown into the Jin clan would be great)

Once again, most of the Wens are almost more willing the queue up than the guards are to make them, though many do blanch at the twenty-foot teleportation array drawn in blood (maximum power for minimal cost, Wei Wuxian had explained). A few are genuinely terrified of leaving; a few are almost certainly just enjoying the drama

a young man, as grubby as the rest and face hidden behind a shy curtain of hair, steps into the array without a flinch, and gives Nie Huaisang a subtle thumbs up. He waves back, just as underhanded, and lets slip a relieved sigh as he mentally crosses out “accidentally got her brother killed and/or captured/tortured/etc” on the list of reasons Wen Qing might kill him one day

[the thief spy]

(it hadn’t been easy to convince her to let him go in the first place. but really, Wen Ning was quick-thinking, trustworthy to all who met him, and good at staying hidden when he needed to. and they needed the Wens helping power the arrays, not to mention just not putting up a fight - everything going much quicker with word spread as to what was really happening. And, Nie Huaisang prided himself, it was just a little bit kinder)

this city’s worth were half gone to Qinghe when another messenger arrow landed at his feet in a burst of golden light. A purple ribbon - First Disciple Han Xiaoshi was done at Qiongqi Pass

she’d taken a much higher percentage of skilled warriors (not that all Nie Sect cultivators weren’t skilled warriors) than the other groups, as well as a “signed” note from Jin Guangyao. The work camp at Qiongqi Pass was the place Nie Huaisang least minded if the rescue of the Wens turned into a fight with the Jins. Sixth Uncle had taken nearly as long to get back into good health as Nie Mingjue, and he hadn’t liked hte way the inspectors smiled

[the hitter]

a few minutes later, a blue-ribboned arrow meant the first Qishan group was all through, too. Nie Huaisang and Liu Lifang’s group was the last to finish

they went with the last batch. One disciple stayed behind to clean it up and fly home - no point in sharing the Yiling Patriarch’s proprietary inventions with Jin Sect if they didn’t have to

the mass teleportation array is much worst than the single-use talisman. Nie Huaisang feels like he’s been turned upside-down and inside-out, and wrung out like a wet cloth besides. Golden core, more like yellowish pith. He does his best to stay standing

he’s knocked flat by the impact of a small mass slamming into his shins at high speed. “Sang-ge! Sang-ge! You didn’t say everyone was going to be at the wedding! Was it fun? Where are your pretty clothes?”

“My extra pretty clothes are in my qiankun bag, A-Yuan.” He pushed himself to sit up, and attempts to distangle the toddler from his legs. “Which is good, because you’re getting my normal pretty clothes all dirty on the ground!”

A-Yuan squeezed him even tighter, to show that nobody was the boss of him, then sprang away with his hands behind his back, looking like butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth. That, too, lasted for about half a second before the boy was bouncing in place again. “Did you know that Uncle Four is here now, and Auntie Three, and Zhui Li and Mengmeng and Han Yao got a puppy - ”

“A-Yuan, stop harassing the poor man!” Granny hurried up behind him at a much slower pace than a toddler could manage. She bows, over A-Yuan-head, eyes shining. “Young Master Nie has done a great service for us this day. You should be saying thank you.”

“It’s the least I can do,” he says, dreaming briefly of sliding a sword through Jin Guangshan’s throat. He forces himself to stand - the world has mostly stopped swimming - and pulls her upright, and pokes A-Yuan with his foot so he follows suit. “A-Yuan was just giving me a report - yes, we’re the last batch!” he calls to a cultivator approaching with a querulous expression. ��You’d better send an arrow to da-ge to tell him that it’s all okay!”

Second Disciple Ling Jiaoshi nods and scribbles out a note, and hands it to a junior trailing behind him with a bow and arrow

behind them, around them, about five hundred Wens and Wen-associated people are milling around a deep valley tucked into Qinghe’s mountains. Most are avoiding the three great arrays painted in blood in the center of a some fields, mirrors to the ones in Qishan and Qiongqi Pass, though the landing sites will be inactive with their pairs destroyed. Many are exclaiming to see family and friends again, or looking around in wary uncertainty, or both. The main source of order is being imposed by the multiple triage tents, sorting out who needs medical attention and who just needs a blanket and hearty meal. Nie Huaisang can hear the Chief Physician yelling at someone in the distance

A-Yuan tugs on his hand and repeats accusatorially, “You didn’t say everyone was going to be at the wedding! That must have been so big! Are we all staying with Sang-ge and Miss Yi now? And Aunt Qing and Uncle Ning and Uncle Nie-Who-Needs-Quiet?” His eyes widen and he tugs even harder. “Did you bring new candy?!”

Nie Huaisang laughs and pulls from one pocket a silk flag in brilliant red, filched from the wedding decorations. “No, but I did get material for a new fan. Do you want to help me paint it?”

To be concluded with a brief epilogue!

[prurientpuddlejumper]

Well This is Strange and Unexpected [Toshinori x Reader] [Part 1 of ?]

Part 2 ->

I tried to resist completely weebing out over My Hero Academia, but Toshinori’s siren call pulled me in. It’s weird writing for a fandom with more than 5 people in it, but oh well… I AM HERE! 

Summary: Female reader with a healing-ish quirk rescues a sickly stranger, and impulsively asks him out. Toshi is touched that someone would be attracted to him in his weak form, but weirder still… you don’t like All Might?!

3,990 words | SFW

A couple of guys were harassing him. One of them had him by the cuff of his shirt (which hung loosely on him, accentuating his shriveled size), snapping shark-like teeth, while the other one stood back and threateningly produced sparks from his fingertips. This wasn’t what you expected when you walked into the corner store, but not really surprising—this isn’t the best neighborhood.

They didn’t seem like real villains, at least. They were being careful not to actually use their quirks to do anything beyond intimidate, or else heroes might get involved.

Just assholes bullying an easy target.

The guy they were picking on didn’t seem too worried either, despite being the most fragile-looking man you’ve ever seen. Gaunt cheeks and deeply sunken eyes—everything about him, in fact, giving the impression of a zombie—with a mop of blond hair that was just as oversized as his clothes. He looked more annoyed at his current situation than anything, glancing over his shoulder and scowling like he’d left the oven on at home.

You couldn’t help but smile at his attitude.

Shark-face and sparky weren’t as charmed. “Hey! Are we boring you, grandpa? Learn a little respect!” They shove him forward and back between each other until he doubles over in pain, wheezing and coughing blood. That can’t be from anything they did. Come to think of it, they’re in the medicine aisle. Wow, they decided to pick on a sick guy. They push him to the floor while he’s still hacking and convulsing, struggling to breathe. Your fists clench at your sides.

“I don’t have time for this right now,” the zombie growls, wiping the blood from his lips like a boxer who just took a punch and is ready to deal it back. Except they barely had to touch him. He could be in trouble if this turns into a serious fight.

His ice-colored eyes dart around the room, looking for something, anything he can turn to his advantage, like a desperate, wounded animal. A news report of some big drawn-out fight with All Might earlier today plays on a TV above the register. The cashier doesn’t look up. Other customers are in the store, but nobody is paying any attention—nobody wants to get involved.

You don’t want to get involved either, but…

The shark-tooth guy lands a kick to his ribs, shooting more blood out of the thin man’s mouth, while his accomplice cackles wildly. “That’ll wipe that smug look off your face!” He goes in to kick him again—

“STOP IT!” you shout, rushing forward to insert yourself between the bleeding man on the floor and his assailants. Adrenaline pulses in your veins. Your muscles shake. Thanks to your quirk, you’re not too scared of getting hurt, but you have no idea how to fight, or what to do next.

“What’s this?” the shark menaces, with a harsh laugh. “You his little girlfriend or something?”

Your cheeks flame, but before you can deny it, you think—they probably think a guy like that couldn’t get a girlfriend. They’re already bullying him for being weak. So you announce defiantly, “Yeah, maybe I am!”

“Really? This loser?” His jaw drops.

“All the more reason to break his face in,” the fire-starter snarls. “Then you can date a real man.” He steps in to your space, uncomfortably close, and runs his tongue over his lip. Your skin crawls. Ugh, why did I go and provoke him?

“M-miss, please don’t get involved.” Shaking, the pale blond struggles to his feet behind you. “It’s fine—” The other criminal shuts him up with a hand around his throat. His cold eyes narrow fiercely at the assailant, but his struggling does nothing to loosen his grip.

“Sure, I’ll go out with a real man. Know any?” you spit.

“Bitch!” he growls, and winds up to strike you, his fist suddenly engulfed in flame. Smoke (or is it steam?) begins to fill the room.

You drop to the floor before he ever touches you.

Then you start screaming.

“AAAHHHH, HELP!!!! WAAAHHH!” you cry in your most pathetic, high-pitched wail. “NOOOO, PLEASE DON’T HURT ME!! HELP!!! POLICE! POLICE!!!”

The blond guy has stopped kicking against his attacker’s grip, and the attacker has lost his zest for choking. They’re both just staring at you. So is everyone else in the store. Other customers are peeking over the tops of the aisles, or rushing over to help. Somebody asks, “Are they beating up a girl?”

“AAIIIIEEE!!! OW, OUCH!” you sob, clutching the imaginary wound on the side of your face.

The two troublemakers glance at each other. Then at the growing audience.

They drop the stranger and run.

Everyone is a little surprised when you’re suddenly all better, but they turn and go back to their shopping. “That was disgraceful,” says a stern voice above you. His ego was clearly hurt being rescued that way, but his eyes are warm as he offers you his hand and helps you up.

“You’re welcome,” you reply with a cheeky grin, brushing off your clothes.

“You didn’t have to get involved, you know. What was your plan if they didn’t run away? That was a risky gamble.”

“Nah. I know their type. They were counting on not drawing too much attention, that’s why they were going after a weak target… uh…”

The guy is pouting with a tragic look on his face. “Weak,” he repeats in a long, extended squeak. His shoulders fall, “It’s true.”

“Are you alright, anyway?”

“Me?” he perks up, giving a big smile to show he’s OK, and pointing a thumb at himself. “Don’t you worry about me, I’ll be fine. Thank you for hel—”

Blood gushes from his mouth, and he falls to the floor, unconscious.

****

Dammit, why’d I have to get jumped when I’m already way past my limit? I hate this weak body. Pathetic. I can’t protect anyone. Not even myself.

Everything is dark. Everything is quiet except for the steady pulse of his heart. Then he hears your voice, distant and small, calling to him. Slowly, the voice gets closer. The darkness fades. Yagi Toshinori feels himself coming back to life.

As his eyes open and his vision clears, he sees you, hovering over him. His lungs aren’t filled with blood anymore. In fact, he hasn’t felt this good since the last time Recovery Girl healed him. He looks up at you smiling back at him.

“Thank goodness,” you whisper. You cough, and blood runs down your chin.

****************************************************

“I don’t have a healing quirk. Not really,” you explain, wiping blood from your face. “I can’t make injuries go away, but I can transfer them between people. The neat part is, it isn’t all-or-nothing: I can absorb, say, 10 percent of a wound, and share the burden so we can both recover. But if I wanted to heal somebody all the way, I’d end up just as hurt. So, my quirk is honestly pretty useless.”

“That doesn’t sound useless at all. You helped me, didn’t you?” The stranger’s bright eyes are piercingly kind as they gaze up at you from their dark sockets. Even on the floor of the medicine aisle of a convenience store, with drying blood speckling his white shirt, he has an inspiring aura that makes you want to believe his compliments instead of brush them off.

“How are you feeling? I couldn’t heal you anywhere near all the way. Your body is… pretty messed up. UHHHH, sorry for using my quirk on you without permission! I… kind of know some private medical information about you now. Sorry.”

With great strain, he sits up on his elbows, and struggles to get to his feet, but is caught off balance by a fresh fit of coughing, and slumps back down. You offer him a hand. As soon as you’ve pulled him up, you are wracked by a bloody cough, and he quickly grabs your shoulder to keep you from stumbling.

“I’m sorry,” he says in a low voice, lanky bangs falling in front of his face. “You’re suffering now because of me.”

“It’s nothing, really. I only took a little; you’re the one who’s been suffering. Can I help you get home? Do you have anywhere close you can rest?”

He shakes his head. “You’ve already done too much for me, don’t worry. I’ll get a taxi.”

“In your condition?! No way. Why don’t you come home with me—my apartment is right across the street.” Your pulse starts racing. Did you just ask a stranger home? “Just to rest for awhile! Until you’re sure you won’t black out in the back seat of a cab.”

His razor-sharp cheeks flush with a tinge of pink. “That’s very kind, but… Really, this is normal for me.” He gives a carefree grin which is actually extremely tense.

“Then…” you ball your fists in determination, “will you go on a date with me?”

He stops cold. All he manages to make is a short, nonsensical string of vowels. You’re in shock at yourself, too. Your heart is pounding like crazy, but you’ve already gone this far.

“I mean, you said I’ve done too much for you, right? So, you can pay me back with a date!”

“Wha—” His entire face turns bright scarlet and his nonexistent eyebrows fly off his forehead. “Wha… but… uhhh. I. Um. What kind of date? (Is it really OK to ask for that kind of payment??)”

“I’ve got the latest Space Adventure movie and a bowl of microwave popcorn back at my apartment. I was going to watch it alone, but it would be more fun with company.”

His brow tents upward, and he gives a defeated whine, “You’re kind of devious, you know, miss!”

“What do you think about curry for dinner?”

His mop of hair falls over his face, and his shoulders begin to jerk. You can hear him laughing beneath it. Finally, he tosses his head back smiling—as his twin bangs fly upward, for a moment it reminds you of a certain hero. “OK, OK, I surrender!” he puts his hands up. “I’m clearly outmatched here. I’m Toshinori, by the way.”

 ****

After checking out of the store, you slowly limp your way home, practically carrying each other down the block. You offer him your arm for support. He insists on supporting you instead. You counter-insist. In the end, you wind up leaning against each other like a pair of drunks staggering home from the bar.

“So, you said you can ‘transfer injuries between people,’ not that you can transfer them to yourself. Does that mean you can transfer them back?”

“Well, yeah.”

“Then you should give it back to me right away!” he clenches his fist, and announces it with so much passion that passers-by stop to see if someone is being robbed. He softens his voice to a low rumble, and leans closer. “You shouldn’t be hurt on my account.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, you’d pass out again. You’re pretty thin but I still don’t wanna carry you.”

He mopes silently for a moment. You had him there. He bounces back from the sulk with academic curiosity. “Can you use your ability to transfer injuries to a third party, as an attack?”

“Yes, but…” You drop your gaze to the sidewalk. “I don’t ever want to use it that way.”

“Why not? It sounds like it would be a strong power for a hero.” Imagine how useful a quirk like that would be to pair with young Midoriya, healing him when he uses One For All at full strength, and simultaneously dealing out more damage to the bad guys.

“Are you kidding? Sucking wounds out of allies to use against an enemy? Their bones spontaneously snapping and shattering with a single touch? Their organs failing from an attack that never even hit them? Deciding who lives and who dies? It’s horrific.”

“Battle is always horrific, no matter how it’s done. But I understand what you mean.” He smiles. “It’s good that you don’t want to hurt people.”

“Besides, it only works through touch; I’d have a hard time grabbing onto a villain with my body broken.”

“That’s not the only way you could use it. If you honed your reflexes, you could reflect back the damage from a punch instantly. It would be like your opponent was punching themselves!” He excitedly throws a jab at the air with his free hand. “I’ve never heard of anyone with a quirk like that. You’re pretty special,” he adds with a smile.

A warmth blossoms in your chest. You’ve never been proud of your weird quirk, but the way he talked about it made you feel like maybe it was special. You never even thought about using it that way, and he came up with it in thirty seconds!

“Yeah, we could call you Mirror Girl, or Stop-Hitting-Yourself.”

“Well, I’m a little old to go after a hero license now, and naming things is clearly not your forte,” you stick out your tongue. “But thank you. What about you? Quirkless, right?”

“Something like that,” he answers nervously.

 ****

Your apartment is a small-but-cozy, slightly messy space at the top of a flight of stairs you would have described as “short” before having blood in your lungs. As soon as the door is open, Toshinori spots the couch and gratefully slumps onto it without hesitation, letting out a long sigh of relief. Remembering manners, he turns to you.

“Thank you… for everything, really. It was embarrassing to have to be rescued like that, but you were very brave, helping me even though you didn’t have to. You even thought of a way to get me to stop being so stubborn,” he laughs. “You were joking about the date, right? I promise I’ll take it easy and rest, you don’t have to pretend to be interested.”

Your skin grows hot and you’re suddenly hyper aware of everything your face is doing. On the walk over you’d gotten comfortable leaning on him, and kind of forgot you asked out a random guy you just met like some kind of psycho! But…

“I wasn’t kidding. Unless you don’t want to—I mean—not to pressure you, th-that is… I was kidding about the ‘you owe me’ part! I was just trying to get you to not run off on your own in this condition.” Maybe you can just dig a hole in your living room floor and hide in it? “But… I would like to go on a date with you.”

He’s completely taken aback. “You really want to go out with someone like me? Who can’t even protect himself?”

“Sure. You’re kinda my type, actually.”

“Are you serious?!”

You laugh a little at how shocked he’s acting. “Come on, it’s like you’ve never been asked out before.”

“Not like this I haven’t!” He blurts, then claps a hand over his mouth like he spilled a secret.

“Like… this?”

He grumbles and drops his shoulders. “You must have sensed it when you were using your quirk on me anyway, so there’s no point hiding it. I wasn’t always this weak.” He pulls up his shirt and reveals a grizzly web of scars and inflamed tissue taking up half of his left side. “An accident damaged a lot of my organs and completely destroyed my stomach. I’m barely patched together with everything medicine and healing quirks can do. There was a time those guys wouldn’t have been a problem for me.”

“Oh, wow.” Without thinking, you’re beside him on the couch, and your hands are on his mangled flesh, studying it with fascination. He draws in a sharp breath between his teeth.

You quickly take your hands off him. “Does it hurt?”

“N-no, just…” His eyes dart away.

Gasping, your hands fly to your mouth. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry! That was completely inappropriate, I should have asked! You must think I’m some kind of—I’m so sorry!”

“It’s OK, you just surprised me. You can go ahead, if you really want to…”

You bite your lip. Having to consciously decide to touch his bare skin makes it so much more embarrassing. It’s way too forward, right? Then again, you both agreed it was a date…

Slowly, you examine his wounds with your fingertips. You could tell something was off about his internal organs when you were hunting for damage to absorb from him, but this is unlike anything you’ve ever seen. Ridges of scars and sutures extend from his chest to his lower abdomen, and unlike an old wound that has properly healed, the tangled flesh is red and angry. There are a few fresh bruises blooming on his ribs from the kicks he took, which you have a matching set of, and some other recent injuries of mysterious origin. The most surprising thing is how muscular he is, considering his emaciated frame. He probably could have taken those guys in a fight, if not for the internal bleeding.

His breathing becomes rapid and shallow as you explore his body. Goosebumps raise on his skin everywhere that isn’t scar tissue. He swallows, hard.

“Aren’t you disgusted? I don’t usually show this off on the first date.”

“Not at all. I think it’s cool! Ah, I mean—ugh—sorry. It must be really painful for you, of course it’s not ‘cool,’ I just mean…” You hide your face in your hand with a groan. “I’m really messing this up, aren’t I?”

He chuckles softly at you. “I’m just glad you’re not freaked out. Most people react… differently.”

“Heh, well, honestly…” you peek out from between your fingers. “Frankenstein is my favorite book, so this look is actually really appealing.”

“Are you comparing me to the monster? That’s not a compliment!” he scolds theatrically, with a playful light in his eyes—before blood erupts from his mouth.

“Sorryyyyy!!!!” you laugh—before blood erupts from your mouth.

Tentatively, he reaches out, and rubs your back as you recover from coughing. His face was built to frown, and the deflated expression of regret etched deep into its sharp lines effortlessly slips back into place over the brief moment of levity.

“Did you absorb my respiratory damage? Those injuries are permanent, they’ll never heal— you have to give them back, right now.”

“Stop worrying so much. Chronic injuries are different; I’m not even sure if I can transfer them. Pretty sure it’s just inflammation that got aggravated from exerting yourself.”

His frown deepens. “You should still give it back.”

“I told you, don’t worry. It’s already feeling better. Anyway, if I did that, I’d be hurting you, and you know it’s illegal to hurt another person with a quirk.”

“…in that case, it was illegal to use your quirk in public in the first place…” he grumbles.

Quickly changing the subject, you point at the TV. “About that movie!”

 ****

Because of his total gastrectomy, Toshinori can’t eat anything too sweet, spicy, fibrous, or fatty, among a host of other things to avoid. Moreover, he can’t eat very much at once, so he has to be snacking constantly through the day.

Luckily, popcorn fits the bill, so you both sit on the couch with a big bowl of it between you, while laser weapons flash through space on the screen.

Halfway through the movie, he yawns sleepily, stretching his lanky arms over his head. As they come down, one of them lands awkwardly on the back of couch just behind your shoulder. Your head swivels. Your mouth hangs open. You stare at him, aghast.

“DID YOU JUST DO THE YAWN TRICK?”

“Uhh…” He stares stiffly forward at the TV screen, arm discreetly inching back up from whence it came.

“Seriously, this is a date. If you wanna cuddle, just go for it.” You move the popcorn bowl to the side, and snuggle into him under the offending arm. It is the world’s tensest cuddle, as you both question whether this is way too fast. But soon he relaxes, lowering his arm around you.

By the time the end credits roll, he’s laying with his head in your lap, half asleep, while you stroke his messy hair. “C-captain Wan…” you sniffle, wiping a tear from the corner of your eye. Toshinori stirs.

“I don’t get it. What were those snake things about?”

“What?! Haven’t you seen any of the Star Adventure series?”

“It’s a series?”

You sit, sputtering, opening and closing your mouth again. He sits up as you explain that this is the latest movie in a really famous franchise that has been out for decades, spanning television and the big screen—you thought he knew that!

“Ohh. I’m not really into nerd stuff.”

Before you can vibrate into an antimatter weapon and explode with enough force to tear open the space-time continuum, he laughs “kidding, kidding!” and tells you he still had fun. Charming bastard. Good thing he’s cute.

Next time, you promise to show him the first movie. Or make it up to him with something he’s more interested in. And you’ll be sure to have more snack options on hand!

“Next time, huh?”

What does he mean by that? He was smiling but his eyes looked kinda stern, like he was teasing? It means he’s looking forward to it, right? Or is he saying it’s absurd? You did totally shanghai him into this and he didn’t even like the movie. “That is,” you start sweating nervously, “If you wanted a second date.”

He stares into the distance, squinting in thought. Not immediately reassuring.

“I should warn you, most days I don’t have any free time,” he says in a low, serious voice. “Today I got so far past my limit, I had no choice but to rest awhile… but I wouldn’t be able to see you very often. It wouldn’t be fair to you.”

“Slow down there, Yugioh! I’m asking for a second date, not your hand in marriage,” you quip, flicking one of his floppy bangs. Your shoulders fall. “Oh. Wait. Unless you’re just being polite. You can be straight with me, I don’t pick up on hints very well.”

“No, I meant it!” He takes your hand and draws it close, interlacing his bony fingers with yours. You think he’s about to kiss it, but he just holds it to his chest like a precious possession. “This has been interesting. To know someone could still want me like this…” He rubs circles over the back of your hand with his thumb. The sensation sends shivers radiating through your arm, making your heart flutter and ache for more. “I just don’t want to make promises to you I can’t keep. My schedule doesn’t leave much downtime, but… the hospital is in this neighborhood, so I could visit you whenever I’m nearby. It isn’t as much as you deserve, but…”

“Second date. Not marriage. I just want to see you again sometime, and keep getting to know you.”

Maybe it’s just that you love his angular, skeletal figure, and his grim but friendly eyes. Maybe you just love taking care of wounded birds. But maybe it’s something deeper. There’s a fire within him that draws you in, and you just want to see where this goes.

A PHONE CALL IS HERE! A PHONE CALL IS HERE! A PHONE CALL IS HERE!

The moment is abruptly interrupted as Toshinori drops your hand to hastily pull out his phone, and fumbles to silence the ring. He’s so mortified he spits blood.

“Is that All Might’s voice?” you ask, eyes narrowed suspiciously.

“What? No, it’s just a novelty ringtone!”

“That is totally All Might! Oh my god, you’re…”—he winces—“a fanboy!”

He lets out a held breath, visibly relieved, then laughs boisterously. “You caught me, I love that pillar of justice!”

“Ugh, no!” you groan, head sinking into your hands. “I can’t believe you’re into that obnoxious meathead!”

“Haha… Wait, what?”

[ruewrites]

We’re Blooming Together Chapter 10: Confessions

AO3

Ship: Solomon/Asmo, Diavolo/Lucifer

Word Count: 4335

Warnings: None

Chapter 1-Chapter 2-Chapter 3-Chapter 4-Chapter 5-Chapter 6-Chapter 7-Chapter 8-Chapter 9-Chapter 10-Chapter 11-Chapter 12

Asmo’s could hear his brothers whispering whenever they thought he couldn’t. Some part of him knew Mammon wouldn’t keep quiet about what happened. Not that he couldn’t. He could have, but this was coming out of a place of concern. Not that Mammon would have had to tell them anything. Asmo had spent a majority of time holed up in his rooms. Sometimes quiet sobs would escape his bedroom door, other times were spent in silent contemplation about what to do. His stomach had continued to tie itself up into knots, anxieties plaguing his mind. There was a chance that maybe Solomon liked him, but then the chance that he didn’t would immediately come to mind. He could stay quiet about the whole thing and have Solomon in his life forever, or he could tell him and risk the chance of ruining everything. But what if Solomon did return his feelings?  

Solomon’s hoodie stared up at him from the bed. Asmo knew he probably shouldn’t be looking at it when trying to make a decision. Hell, he’d barely been answering Solomon’s texts when they came in, sometimes not at all. He wasn’t even posting on his socials. He just needed a few minutes with a clear head, he needed Solomon to stop invading his thoughts just long enough to make a decision. 

A new letter hadn’t come in in a while either. Secret had been quiet. Honestly, it made this whole mess even more fantastic. Maybe he did have a stalker. That was a pleasant thought. Maybe they saw all of his pictures with Solomon. Maybe he would have to get Lucifer and Diavolo involved. Maybe he would have to go into hiding, maybe he would have to move all of his classes online, maybe he was putting Solomon’s life in danger. Maybe he should still accept them, put everything to a quiet agreement. They had said really nice things after all, or if they were crazy maybe it would keep Solomon safe. Oh he shouldn’t be thinking like this! His last relationship had been a complete dumpster fire, and now he was talking himself into walking straight into a nuclear meltdown. What was wrong with him? Why was he so complacent with these thoughts? He wanted to be happy, but right now the only happy scenario he could imagine was with Solomon, and he wasn’t even sure that was a possibility. All the while Solomon’s hoodie stared up at him, tempting him, and his notification rang out once more. Solomon was probably worried and that didn’t help anything at all!

Oh this situation was just wonderful! Everything was a mess and Asmo didn’t know which mess to start with first. It was too much, but how could he involve people without making an even bigger mess of the whole situation. Maybe he should have burned the first letter.  He should have agreed with Satan in the cafe when he said it could be bad. He shouldn’t have accepted all of the gifts. He shouldn’t have done this to himself!

….

But then he wouldn’t have felt nearly as wonderful as he had. It was the best and most loved he’d felt in a while. Had he ever truly been in love? Had anyone ever truly loved him? These were questions he didn’t like asking himself. They brought up parts of his behavior that he’d rather not acknowledge. Sure he had issues, all of his brothers had issues. That’s what happened when your parents abandoned you. Asmo just wanted someone that wouldn’t leave. He didn’t want to face that kind of betrayal again. For a moment he thought that Secret could be the one, that they would actually love him for who he was and care for him. Then Solomon started to fill that hole and Asmo stopped resisting.

I won’t leave you. Not in a bajillion years.

Not even a hundred billion?

Not even then!

Ever wonderful Solomon. Always there when he had family issues, when he needed help with assignments, when he was nervous or scared, when he had issues with his relationships. Solomon had kept his promise. He never left, regardless if things were good or bad. He still remembered all the times Solomon had come to get him out of the house after a bad breakup. He’d come into his room, help him get fixed up and offer to take him to his favorite cafe on the corner. If he was in a particularly bad mood he’d bring over snacks and they’d watch terrible movies together. They’d laugh until their sides hurt and rewind bits that were particularly bad just to laugh even more. Solomon knew him so well, he always knew what he needed.

…

He wished he could do that now. He wanted to call Solomon and ask for comfort. He wanted to forget everything and just watch a bad movie like everything was normal. But Solomon was part of the problem, and he couldn’t think straight about what he wanted to do if he was sitting so close to him the entire time. He needed his heart to stop trying to burst out of his chest whenever he thought about him.

Missing Solomon’s presence was something Asmo didn’t want to get used to. A life without Solomon was an empty one. He’d much rather be kept single for the rest of his life because of his brothers than lose Solomon.

 Speaking of his brothers, he hadn’t gotten a text about another stakeout in a while. In fact, his brothers had been relatively quiet about Asmo’s love life. That didn’t mean they’d been completely quiet. Every now and again he’d get a text that told him to open his door, or a quiet little knock. Oh had his brothers been wonderful to him. 

Mammon had bought some rather expensive bath bombs he loved. The ones that glittered and shined as soon as they hit the water, leaving the tub a sparkling mess.The bag they came in also contained bubbles, lotions, and other various items to make the perfect self care day.

Levi left a movie he heard Asmo talk about a few times, along with some games that he claimed helped him take his mind off of things when they weren’t going to great. He’d also left a list of recommendations of shows that he enjoyed and that Asmo might like too.

Satan had brought his normal drink from the cafe with a note attached letting Asmo know that he had all sorts of stories and gossip to tell him whenever he wanted to talk.

Beel had left his favorite cupcakes from the bakery down the street. The ones with cute little sprinkles and pink icing on top.

Belphie left one of his warmest, fuzziest blankets that Asmo ended up staying curled up in most of the time.

Each gift held a piece of one of his brothers. They all put their own twist on showing how much they cared. 

At least there was one place Asmo always knew he would be loved. 

His brothers could be annoying, and may drive him absolutely insane, but he loved them more than anything. They cared about him, even if it wasn’t always vocalized. They’d been through a lot together.

Asmo had a feeling Mammon had pseudo orchestrated the whole thing. After all, he’d seen first hand how upset Asmo had been Friday night.Sure he hadn’t seen the whole thing, but honestly he probably didn’t need to. Mammon was the second oldest after all, he had helped Lucifer take care of them all, even if he wasn’t always the best role model for them.

Perhaps this is why when he heard a knock on his door, he was expecting Mammon. Asmo was curled up in the fuzzy blanket and watching a movie. He’d given up a while ago trying to work on  his latest design. He’d been having a hard time finding inspiration among the mess of petals scattered on the floor. Part of him wanted all of those wonderful feelings back, even if it meant he’d be torturing himself. He reached out to pause the movie, blanket still wrapped around him tightly. He waited a few moments, and then the knock came again. Well, it looks like they wanted to come in. 

“Coming,” he said, plodding over to the door, tightening his grip around the blanket wrapped snugly around him. He forced one of his charming smiles to spread across his face. There wasn’t a point in making them worry more than they already were. This was his issue to sort out, it wasn’t his brothers’ fault he’d given in.

“You know you all-” Asmo couldn’t remember what he was going to say, the words died on his lips before they even had their first shot at seeing the outside world. His blood ran ice cold. This was something he’d forgotten about. Something he should have been equally worried about.

Lucifer stood before him, looking down at Asmo with an unreadable expression. Suddenly Asmo felt incredibly tiny, and part of him wished he was back in the bathroom at the party. “May I come in?” he asked.

Lucifer’s voice was smooth and completely unwavering, face refusing to betray emotion. Asmo was never surprised he became a lawyer, and he definitely wasn’t surprised by the fact that his name made people shudder. Asmo loved his brother, truly he did, but right now? Asmo didn’t know what to expect. So he nodded slowly and opened his door a little wider. Lucifer stepped inside and nodded at Asmo who shut the door quickly. 

One time when he was a teenager, Lucifer had caught him sneaking out. Asmo couldn’t place the feeling he felt back then, but whatever it was it was stirring up inside him once more. Secrets couldn’t be kept from Lucifer for long, Asmo had known that. Yet he had tried. He couldn’t meet Lucifer’s eyes.

“I heard you were upset,” Lucifer started, arms crossed, “Not that I needed to hear, it’s not hard to tell when you’re off.”

“It’s nothing. I’m just sorting some things out that happened last night-”

“So another person is involved.”

His voice went low. Asmo knew that tone. He’d heard it before. He’d heard it hundreds  of times before.

Asmo went quiet again. He didn’t want to talk about it. He really didn’t want to talk about it. He knew how Lucifer had gotten when he learned the truth about Asmo’s last relationship. Yes, Lucifer had always been protective and yes he got angry when one of Asmo’s partners made him upset. But his last relationship… He’d never seen Lucifer so angry. It terrified him. Lucifer had raised his voice, he’d looked so inhumane in that moment. He remembered having to talk Lucifer out of going to his dorm, he didn’t want to file anything against him. He didn’t want to see his brother get in trouble. Asmo hadn’t seen Lucifer for a while after that. When he had seen him again, he was scared to bring it up again.

Asmo didn’t want Lucifer thinking of Solomon in a  negative light, especially when it wasn’t Solomon’s fault. Solomon hadn’t forced him into having feelings for him, he just simply existed, and that’s what drew Asmo in. Everything about Solomon drew him closer. The way he looked, his intellect, hell even that nerdy side of him… Asmo loved it all. He just needed to decide if he wanted to keep that to himself or not...

Sitting down on the bed, Asmo kept his eyes trained on the floor. “Well, yes and no,” he said. Gripping the blanket tightly around him as a form of safety. How to tread around this subject with Lucifer… He glanced up at his brother ever so slightly, “I don’t think…. They don’t know that they’re involved in this situation.”

Lucifer raised an eyebrow but said nothing. Asmo thought he would have preferred he said something in that moment. He wanted a hunt or a clue to how his brother might react, instead he got nothing. Somehow that was worse. Lucifer now already knew more than Mammon, what could he say from here? How would he even begin to explain all of the letters? Where would he even begin? How to say it all in a way Lucifer would understand…

Hi Lucifer! You see I just got all these little love letters at school I didn’t tell you about because I totally thought that you might think this person was a stalker! Even though thinking too much about it, that makes sense! But nope. I wanted to live in my own little fairytale where everything was happy and going to turn out exactly how I wanted it to! Oh also? I projected all of these feelings onto my best friend who I’ve had a crush on for years! I thought he might actually like me back like that! Isn’t that funny Luci? Well, a girl kissed him at a party that you didn’t know about that Mammon and I went to and I had a mental breakdown in the bathroom. Now I’ve realized that he may not like me at all but I still have lots of feelings for him, and the letters haven’t come in in a while so I very well may  have a stalker! Solomon says he likes someone else, and not that girl, and I want it to be me, but it’s probably not. My life is going to shit and I don’t know what to do. Isn’t that funny Luci? Isn’t it?

Yes. that would go over perfectly with Lucifer. Lucifer who could do no wrong. Lucifer who was the head of their family. Nothing bad ever happened to him. Nothing. 

Asmo sniffled and sat down on his bed. No. No he wasn’t going to cry now. Not right now. Not in front of Lucifer. He couldn’t do that, it would just make him pry more.

“Asmodeus-” Lucifer started, then he stopped. He didn’t make a move towards Asmo, but he also didn’t back away. Maybe he would just leave. Take a page from the others for once and leave Asmo to process by himself. After all, it wasn’t any of Lucifer’s business right? Just like his relationship with Diavolo was none of his business. 

“I don’t need a lecture Lucifer,” he snapped. He wasn’t sure where that came from. Perhaps he was due to the overwhelming reality that was constantly swimming around him in this moment. “Listen, I know I screwed up. I know I let my heart get ahead of me. I know, I don’t need to hear it. I-”

Asmo felt a pair of arms wrap around him. It was a bit awkward, but then again affection and comfort hadn’t always been Lucifer’s strong suits. He tried, he really did. But even if he wasn’t always great at it, there was something undeniably soothing. It reminded him of when he was a child once more, and Lucifer was trying his best to fill the hole their parents left in their family. They’d taken Lilith and left the rest of them behind. Asmo still wasn’t really all that sure about what had happened, and Lucifer refused to talk about it. Asmo had vague memories of being held a little closer, a little tighter, for a few months after they left. All of his memories were vague and fuzzy but this… This was a feeling he remembered. 

“Why would you think any of that?” Lucifer asked, pulling away and making Asmo look him in the eye. Asmo wasn’t aware til that moment that anyone would look so stern yet gentle at the same time. Part of Asmo still wanted to look away, but at the same time he felt compelled to spill everything. 

Finally, he sighed and backed up. He hadn’t realized how tense he’d been until his body finally allowed himself to relax. How long had he been that tense? He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Well, you were never the most approving of past relationships.You didn’t ever seem to like them,” he said.

Lucifer had never been rude to them in the slightest, but he also hadn’t been entirely warm with them either. Asmo could always feel him judging them, he knew he didn’t like them. Maybe that’s part of the reason why Asmo had kept quiet about some of his past relationships. Maybe Lucifer had known what they were like all along. Maybe he saw something in their eyes or the way they spoke. Or maybe it was how they all avoided Lucifer’s gaze. Thinking back on it, many of them always had something to say about Lucifer. 

Your oldest brother is kind of scary.

Yo Lucifer? What’s his problem? He kept staring at me.

I thought he was your dad with how he was acting!

Lucifer shook his head and let out a sigh. He was quiet, thinking over his words before speaking. “Well, I certainly feel justified in my disdain for them, they all ended for reasons that I don’t feel I need to bring up,” he said. He certainly wasn’t wrong, but it still made Asmo frown.

“Oh? So is that why you’re so judgemental?”

“No. Asmodeus I-” he stopped again and closed his eyes, “Asmodeus. You’re special. You truly are. I just want to see you treated like you deserve. Someone who sees how special you are.” 

Asmo was waiting for the catch, waiting for there to be more. But there wasn’t. Lucifer just stared at him. Waiting. Asmo brought his knees to his chest. This was uncomfortable. Incredibly uncomfortable. He wished he was still putting up a front. One he could hide behind, but he couldn’t do that to Lucifer. No, Lucifer would know. He was too smart for any of this. 

“Are you going to stop hiding things from me now?”

He knew.

Asmo nodded deftly and swallowed. He reached towards his desk and rummaged through it for a minute. He didn’t need to. He was stalling, and he knew it. He’d just been hiding this all from Lucifer for so long. Of course he knew something wasn’t right, knew something was up. Lucifer knew everything that went on in their house. How Asmo would never know.  Despite everything running through his mind in that moment, the idea of Lucifer reading the letters filled him with absolute dread. His fingers caressed the envelopes. It was like a reflex at this point. Even if he couldn’t touch them, he could still caress their letters. He hadn’t even realized his hands were shaking when he finally handed them over to Lucifer. 

Lucifer examined the envelopes for a moment before opening the first one. “Are these the only things you received.”

“I got a few gifts from time to time. Just small things like chocolate or little toys.”

He nodded slowly, eyes scanning over the words carefully. When he finished, he folded it up meticulously and tucked it back into its resting place within the envelope. Then he would move to the next letter and start the process over again. It was an odd thing to watch. To Asmo, it seemed like Lucifer was treating this like a case more than Asmo bearing his secrets to him. These letters were personal, yet his expression never changed. Hours seemed to tick by and yet halt all together by the time Lucifer was organizing all of the envelopes into a neat little pile and handed them back to Asmo. 

“You said this other person doesn’t know they’re involved?”

“Well, yes-”

“Why?”

Asmo furrowed his brow, “Why?”

“Why don’t they know?”

Asmo swallowed a groan, “Maybe I don’t want them to know.”

“Go on.”

“I’m not one of your clients Lucifer. You don’t need to get every bit of information out of me,” Asmo said, shooting his brother a look, but he continued anyways, “Listen, maybe I just don’t want to ruin the way something is. Maybe I like the way things are. Maybe-”

Maybe I don’t deserve him.

Asmo stopped himself before the words left his mouth. 

Lucifer was silent for a moment, then a soft chuckle left his lips and he shook his head. “Oh, how I wish you still had that same mindset with me. You didn’t sneak around nearly as much as a child and you certainly didn’t keep nearly as many secrets from me.”

Asmo couldn’t help but pout. Lucifer was joking around! How could he be doing this. Lucifer should be grilling him right now! Lucifer should want to give him a lecture! Now Asmo was happy that he wasn’t, but still! He’d been so anxious about what Lucifer would do, only for him to tease him! Had all of his worry really been over nothing? Maybe he wasn’t too different from the rest of his brother’s after all. “All you can do is make a joke? Seriously?”

“Apologies. I suppose Diavolo may, unfortunately, be rubbing off on me.”

Asmo didn’t miss the soft smile that crossed his face. How lucky was Lucifer? He had someone who was vocal about how much he adored him, someone who would do anything and find any loophole just to see him. Someone who would do anything for him. Someone who loved him unconditionally. 

“It must be nice having someone like him, someone who adores you and loved you as much as him. I think he’d run around the world if you asked him to.”

“He is a rather persistent man, I don’t think he would have stopped asking until I agreed to go on a date with him.”

“How many times did he have to ask?”

“Three times.”

Lucifer softened for a moment as Asmo laughed. It wasn’t a surprise. Lucifer hadn’t dated much from what Asmo knew. He’d been busy with school and taking care of the rest of them. He hadn’t had time for romance. By the time he’d gotten into college and his post grad, Lucifer had gotten into a routine. A routine that Diavolo had been determined to break.  Lucifer and Diavolo were good together, they’d been close before they started being together. Honestly Asmo wasn’t sure when they started dating. All he knew was that Diavolo seemed to love his brother more than anything.

“I think he’s good for you,” Asmo said, “He’s so dedicated, and he loves you a lot…”

“He’s certainly something else,” Lucifer agreed, “I want the same thing for you, for all of you. I want you to be happy, even if you all don’t always believe it. I mean it when I say you’re special Asmodeus.”

Asmo looked down at the letters once more. Secret seemed to think he was special too. Maybe… Just maybe they had meant every single thing they said in their letters. The very idea made Asmo blush ever so slightly. Then he mind flickered to his ever dedicated best friend. Oh what he wouldn’t give to be lucky enough to be with him, just like how Lucifer was lucky to have someone like Diavolo.

Then Lucifer pressed something into Asmo’s hands, effectively snapping him out of his thoughts. He looked down, and staring back at him was another pink envelope, crisp and perfect with his name written on the cover. “You know, the funny thing about Diavolo is how persistent he is.  He took a chance with me, three chances actually, he’s incredibly dedicated,” he said, “Now, this doesn't mean I’m going to be easy on them, but I do want to see you happy. Only if this is something you’d want to do.”

Asmo was only half listening as he tore open the letter. His fingers stumbling and tripping over themselves to open it. Then he stopped and turned to Lucifer. “How did you get this?” he asked slowly.

“It was given to me, for you while I was at work. Barbatos had to page me down.”

“Then you know-”

“I promised I won’t tell.”

“Really?” 

“Diavolo made me promise not to tell. He thought the entire thing was rather romantic and adorable,” Lucifer smirked, once Asmo realized this meant that he wasn’t going to get the information he wanted, “Though, you should read it now, I do believe it’s time sensitive.”

Asmo nodded quickly and went back to opening the letter. He looked down expecting the usual gorgeous words scrolled across the page, but that wasn’t the case. It was hurried, as if Secret had been in a rush. The writing was shaky and a little uncertain, and the paper a little crumpled.

Meet me at Cradsbury Park at 7

I promise I’ll explain

I need want to see you

Please.

Your Secret

It wasn’t the normal format. But that didn’t matter. The blanket flew off of him and soon Asmo was scattering to get ready. He needed to fix his makeup and put something nice on. This was the moment he’d been waiting for. His heart was pounding in his chest and his mind went to autopilot. Lucifer stood from his bed and straightened out his shirt a bit before walking towards the door. 

“You really should open your text messages Asmodeus. It’s rather rude not to. I thought you knew better,” before he left, Lucifer turned towards Asmo one last time, “Call me if you need me.”

Asmo was only half listening to his brother as he scurried around his room.

*****

Asmo stood in front of his door nervously. He could turn back. He could forget all of this. But he needed to know, or else he’d always wonder. He thought he looked nice enough, winter boots, a cute sweater under his jacket, one of his nicer pairs of leggings... At least he hoped  he looked nice enough. He tightened his coat around himself. Phone buzzing one last time in his pocket, Asmo opened the door and started his walk down to the old park.

[butlerbarb]

Comfort (Leviathan x Reader)

i should start by saying sorry for just disappearing out of nowhere. i think i just had too much on my plate and burnt myself out. which then caused me to spiral into a depressive episode and lose all motivation to work on something. 

with that being said, i wanted to write something about how i've been feeling as a way to vent it. i also wanted it to be comfy and nice and i really just wanted leviathan to hug me and tell me everything is okay :) i hope you enjoy this very soft and self indulgent fic bc i love leviathan more than anything

also! i am working on requests, so expect those out within the next few days or so!

ily <3

It had been one of those days. Well, really it had been one of those weeks. Those days where you just didn’t want to leave your bed, more comfortable to hide away by yourself as to not bother anyone with how out of it you were feeling. Of course, Lucifer would probably have your head if he found out you were skipping classes, so you went about your days pretending you were fine.

Leviathan had invited you to his room after school, you hadn’t been able to focus on what he was telling you at breakfast – your mind too fuzzy from having just woken up combined with the fuzziness your off mood had brought on. But knowing the otaku demon, it was either anime or a new video game he bought. His enthusiasm and passion for his interests was something that never failed to bring a smile to your face, even when you were feeling down.

Your day at school, thankfully, passed by in a blur. Mammon made a point of bragging about his latest modeling job he scored as he walked you home, trying to convince you to go with him. Naturally, he pouted like a child when you turned him down, whining that you were missing the opportunity of a lifetime! Thankfully he gave up when you told him you just weren’t feeling it, but you would be happy to take him up on the offer another time. He dropped you off at home after that, telling you he’d bring you something on his way back.

You were barely in the door when Leviathan was charging at you from the common room, rushing you into kicking off your schools before he dragged you up to his room. You tried to argue that you still had your RAD uniform on and that he should at least give you a minute to change, but he was hearing none of it. He waited all day for you to get home, he wasn’t going to wait another minute! However, that excuse fell apart quickly when you gave him a set of puppy dog eyes, letting you hurry off to your room on a time limit.

You changed into more comfortable clothes quickly, using up only 3 minutes of the 5-minute limit he gave you. You were back in his room just as he had finished setting everything up. You took note of the snacks that he had set up in different bowls around his room. Wow, you thought, this must be really important. Leviathan usually never went all out like this unless it was mega important.

“What’s all this for, Levi? Seems like a lot for just a few episodes.” You commented, grabbing a handful of chips out of a bowl as you sat down on the edge of the bed. You cringed at how spicy it was, some of the flavors were intense in the Devildom. Leviathan’s eyes widened as he gave you an incredulous look.

“A few episodes!? No, no, no. We’re watching the entire series tonight.” The demon explained as he removed a disk from its packaging and slipped it inside his PC. “This series, 10 Things I’ve Always Wondered About the Demon King: Facts versus Fiction! has been teased for years! YEARS! And they finally released it all at once on DVD. People have been speculating about it for so long and AH! I CAN’T WAIT TO WATCH IT!”

You laughed at his energy, simply nodding as you reclined on his bed. He dove into bed next to you once the opening began playing, delight blooming on his face immediately. You let your head rest on Leviathan’s lower legs, expecting him to jump and practically kick you away, but to your surprise he didn’t even seem to notice. The show had barely started, and he was already lost in it.

It had been a few hours and you were only a few episodes deep. Levi had told you it had multiple seasons with at least 12 episodes each, so you really were going to be there for the night. It had been enjoyable at first, but after a while of mindlessly staring at the screen and reading subtitles, you slowly lost a majority of your interest. Leviathan still seemed fully absorbed, however. You breathed a sigh, stretching your arms above your head. You pulled your legs up onto the bed, crossing them underneath you, resting elbow on your knee, and your chin on the palm of your hand.

You let your eyes wander around the room, head filled with the same fuzziness as this morning. While you enjoyed the anime, and spending time with Leviathan, you knew it would have only been a matter of time before you were back to feeling the same way. You tried to act as normal as possible, not wanting to worry Levi or worse, distract him from the series he had been looking forward to.

You were surprised when the sound suddenly stopped, and you tore your gaze away from on of the anime figures your eyes had been locked on for longer than necessary. Glancing at the screen and then behind you to Leviathan, you raised and eyebrow at the worried look on his face.

“Are you okay?” The blue-haired demon asked, sitting up from his reclined positions to mimic your crossed legs.

“What do you mean? I’m fine.” You replied, giving him a smile, resting your hand on his knee. Leviathan’s eyes narrowed as he shook his head at you.

“You’re not fine! You seemed distracted this morning and it’s the same now. You know you can tell me if something is wrong.”

“Leviathan, I- “

“No excuses! I don’t… I don’t like seeing you upset like this…” He cut you off before you could say anything, mumbling the last part of his sentence as his cheeks flushed a dark red colour. You felt your eyes blow wide as the normally shy demon reached forward, grabbing your free hand as well as the one you had previously rested on his knee.

“Leviathan…” You frowned, watching tears prick the corners of his eyes. Wow, he was really upset about this, huh? You let out a sigh, deciding that if you were going to tell anyone, it might as well be the one who was about to cry out of worry.

“I don’t know, Levi. I’ve just been feeling… off. For the past week. I can’t really describe it. Just sad.” You admitted quietly, your eyes locking onto your joined hands. The silence was unnerving as Leviathan processed your words and suddenly you were extremely uncomfortable.

“Like… depressed?” You nodded in response to his question, eyes briefly flicking up to gauge his expression. He seemed indifferent yet stared at you intently. Your eyes widened as he let go of your hands and threw his arms around you, pulling you into a hug.

“Levi, what…”

“I just! I just want you to know that… You’re not alone and that I… I care about you…” He whispered, burying his face into your hair as he held you tightly. His sudden confession shocked you into silence, all you could do was wrap your own arms around his torso, trying your hardest not to cry. Although even your hardest attempt couldn’t change how overwhelmed you felt, and eventually you were bawling into his shirt, more than likely staining it with tears.

You sat there together for who knows how long, Leviathan happy to let you cry it all out until you felt better. You could have sworn you felt a tear or two hit the skin of your neck, and you fought back a laugh. Leviathan was such a sensitive demon, being brought to tears by the smallest things.

Eventually, your seemingly endless flow of tears came to a stop. You pulled away from him slightly, his arms still wrapped around you as you briefly used the sleeve of your shirt to dry any remaining tears. Levi slowly pulled away, hands resting on your shoulders as he shot you a concerned look. You laughed quietly, wiping at your nose as you sniffled. You smiled at him, nodding a little to let him know you were okay.

He went to pull back, hands slipping off of your shoulder when you stopped him. Placing both of your hands on his cheeks, watching in amusement as his cheeks gained a flushed colour once again. Pulling him closer by his cheeks, you pressed a small kiss to his forehead. You pulled back not a second later, beaming at him happily.

“Thank you, Leviathan.”

BONUS:

The door to Leviathan’s room burst open, scaring the life out of the both of you. Leviathan jumped back, pushing you away from him in surprise. You fell back onto the bed with a laugh, eye drifting over to the intruder.

“Oi! What’re you two doing? Why’re your eyes all red, human?” Mammon, being the ever loud and obnoxious demon that he was, yelled as he stepped into the room. His arms crossed over his chest as he gave Levi a displeased look.

“Are ya makin’ my human cry, Levi?” The older demon accused, pointing a finger at his younger brother. Leviathan rolled his eyes, completely ignoring the Avatar of Greed as he briefly adjusted his fringe.

“Aren’t you the one always making them cry, Mammon?” The Avatar of Envy answered, glaring at Mammon from underneath his now fixed fringe. Mammon gasped, throwing a hand over his chest in mock offence.

“How dare you! I only even make the human happy, ya know!”

“I don’t know about that, Mammon..” You teased lightly, snickering as his face contorted into genuine sadness as he frowned deeply. “I’m joking! Come here, we’re watching anime! We’ve still got tons of snacks!”

Mammon happily dove into the bed next to you, immediately trapping you next to him with one hand, while the other greedily dove into a snack bowl. Leviathan grumbled lowly, rolling his eyes again before shifting into a comfortable position on your opposite side.

You were glad you had such caring demons to help you out when you were at your lowest. You would never replace them for the world.

[chocoholicannanymous]

(Take) These Broken Wings (Glee) 8/?

Disclaimer: I do not own Glee, and you couldn’t pay me enough to take responsibility for it.

Post BIOTA: For someone who’d claimed to be his friend Blaine’s behavior sure left a lot to wish for. Hurt and angry Kurt begins to question his situation – and what he can do to change it.

POV: Kurt Hummel. Pairings: kurtofsky, blainchel. Slightly shady relationship-consent. Not Blaine friendly (no suprise at all).

So, not only do you get another chapter already (I know, what happened?) but it’s a long one. You’re welcome. Here’s hoping I can keep this up!

Previous: Part 7, Part 6, Part 5, Part 4, Part 3,  Part 2b, Part 2a, Part 1

8/?

“Mr Schue? Before we get started I have an announcement I'd like to share.”

While most of the New Directions grumbled Rachel ignored them and stood up. Kurt on his part was looking sharply at her, because something was off. Not only had Rachel not mentioned having a song, she hadn't left the seats to stand by the piano.

Yeah, something was up.

“Blaine and I have broken up. I listened to what you were saying, and I have been thinking hard about it, and the truth is that being in rival show choirs was just too big of a stressor on our relationship as was the fact that us being a couple made it so that you all couldn't trust me. It was a hard decision, but I couldn't do anything else. We're going to try and be friends still, of course, but that's all.

“Thank you for listening to me, and for showing me understanding in these trying times.”

With that she sat down, looking demure, and Kurt shook his head a little – a move he got away with only by sitting in the back row.

The only surprising thing here – besides Rachel not taking the opportunity to perform – was how long the breakup had taken. There had even been a betting pool, and “blainchel” (which really, it sounded like a venereal disease) had surpassed every single bet.

Even Santana, who Kurt felt should have been the most supportive in regards to bisexuality, had put them down at two weeks at the most.

He hadn't participated himself, for a number of reason, and in the end was probably the least surprised one.

Yes, Blaine and Rachel had been a very bad fit, but they'd also had a lot of reasons to stay together. Rachel hadn't exactly been subtle in her attempts to rub her new boyfriend in Finn's face, and Blaine... Well, Blaine had had something to prove hadn't he? After all Kurt, had basically called his attempt at dating Rachel a sham and Blaine had not liked that.

There was also Blaine's hints to Burt Hummel that his own dad had tried to make him straight.

Blaine definitely had something to gain from a continued relationship with a girl.

Oh, Rachel probably hadn't been the best choice for that, seeing as the two were not all that compatible. They were just too similar, equally eager for the spotlight, equally needy for attention.

Even if Blaine had decided he was attracted to girls- and Kurt still wasn't sure that was the case – Rachel would always be too occupied with her own need to be admired to give Blaine what he needed.

Case in point? It had taken one week for Rachel to announce a breakup after having being told off for Blaine being a risk for the New Directions. One. Week. She'd spent their entire relationship telling everyone who would stand still – and quite possibly a few that wouldn't – that her relationship with Blaine was all but written in the stars, as would their names be in the future. Together, of course, as they were just such a suited couple, both with the same dreams and ambitions and goals.

And yet as soon as Rachel thought said relationship was risking her solos Blaine was gone. In a fit of cruelty Kurt thought that they both had been looking more for a “biggest fan” than a partner.

Regardless, they were over now and Kurt hoped that it meant he wouldn't have to be subjected to Blaine again.

He cleared his mind of them both – such a waste of valuable seconds – and instead switched from pretending to listen to Mr Schue to actually doing so as the man described the latest development in their quest to not fuck up at Nationals. Oh, he didn't it call it that, but Kurt was fairly adept at translating Mr Scue-isms to reality by now.

Things are about to become interesting...

Kurt perked up and watched Rachel like a hawk. It would be very telling how she reacted to what Mr Schue was about to say – or at least, what Kurt believed the man was about to say based.

“So! To that end I've recruited some more members. Now, they won't be here until next week since I wanted to give you guys a heads up first, and I hope you'll welcome them.”

Eight Cheerios, two of them guys. Five Titans. Exactly the kind of people who never would have signed up on their own, and who most of the Glee kids would never want to sign up.

Everyone turned to stare at Rachel and when she stayed quiet – though, Kurt thought, not without a fight – they looked at him instead.

“What? Are you waiting for me to protest or what, faint in fear or something? We need the numbers, and it's not like we've done that great a job at recruiting on our own. I've worked with the Cheerios and while I can't speak for their singing each and everyone of them mean we can kick our choreography up another notch.

“As for the guys from the Titans... Well. I am going to trust that they're smart enough to not just follow directions – which they clearly managed during the halftime show – but also leave any ideas of bullying outside this room. After all, McKinley's supposed to be free from that now.”

“But, but, Karofsky's one of them!”

Which Kurt already knew. Dave had told him both about being approached and about considering it – It'll look good on college applications. Make me “well rounded” or some shit like that – and Kurt hadn't seen a problem with it. The opposite in fact. After all, Glee had helped turn Finn and Puck around (in varying degrees) and Kurt liked to think that it'd help do the same for more jocks.

“So? I'm sorry, Mercedes, but I am not seeing a problem here. Dave Karofsky has apologized to me. He has made promises to not just me, but to this school, and so far he's kept them. He has been part of my escort around school ever since I came back, and not once has he given me reason to fear him.

“If any of you want to have an issue with him, or any one of the others, joining us that's your right. Just don't expect to use me as a weapon in that fight. Because to be frank? Right now Dave Karofsky has done more to balance his scales than at least half the people in this room.”

And that shut them all down, just as Kurt had know it would.

Curiously, Rachel didn't say a word the entire time.

Another week and a half went by before the other shoe dropped.

It did so in the form of a phone call.

It wasn't a number from his contact list, but Kurt had thought it familiar so he answered anyway. He regretted it immediately.

“Kurt, hello.”

“Blaine.” Why? What did I do to deserve this?

“I was hoping we'd be able to meet up tomorrow, say at the coffee shop two blocks from Dalton? Would 2 o'clock suit you?”

Kurt had to struggle to make his voice work. Not only was Blaine calling him, but he wanted to meet? Was he asleep? Was this a nightmare brought on as punishment for having had a second slice of cheesecake after dinner? He pinched himself, and no, that hurt.

No such luck then.

“I'm sorry, but I have other plans tomorrow. Besides, I can't see what we would have to say to each other.” I definitely said everything I was willing to last time I saw you.

“Come on, Kurt. Don't be like that. Just come tomorrow.”

“Did you not hear me? I have other plans. I'd say sorry, but I'm actually not. Goodbye Blaine.”

When the doorbell rang shortly after 10 the next morning Kurt considered not opening. Somehow he wouldn't be surprised to find out that Blaine had called Rachel to complain about Kurt being mean, or unreasonable, and that she'd come to lecture him about kicking someone who was already down. The problem was that if it was Rachel then not opening would lead to either her ringing the bell again and again until Finn woke up and came to open or her being a bitch in school.

Neither was appealing, so he sighed and went to open.

Pro: It wasn't Rachel. Con: It was Blaine.

“Good morning Kurt.”

“What are you doing here? I told you I have plans.”

“Well, I knew you weren't being honest about that. Mercedes is at Rachel's, having some girl-time.”

Kurt waited for something more, anything, but nothing came.

“So what, you think I have no one to spend time except those two? Nice. I'm sure you'll be happy to find out that's not true. Also, there is such a thing that having plans on your own.”

“But if you're just doing something on your own then surely that can wait, and you can spend some time with me instead.”

“I suppose it could,” and Blaine's smile practically radiated superiority, “if I was doing something on my own, and if I wanted to spend time with you.”

The smile vanished.

“Kurt.”

It was just his name, but Kurt could hear so many things in it. “I'm disappointed in you.” “You're being ridiculous.” Too bad for Blaine that Kurt's done listening to those silent rebukes.

“I don't understand why you're pushing this. The last time I saw you at Dalton we hadn't spoken in weeks. Because you didn't want to.”

“You hurt me!”

“And I have apologized for that. Publicly even. After, I might add, trying to do so repeatedly. I didn't mean to hurt you, or make you feel like I was some kind of phobic, hateful person.

“You on the other hand meant for the other Warblers to shut me out, didn't you? So I guess we're even. I hurt you, you hurt me.”

“See? That means we can start over!”

“No, it doesn't. That's not something I want in my life, Blaine, that balance of payback. That's not healthy, and it doesn't end. After all, what happened was I said something stupid, which I said because I was hurt and angry, and that then made you hurt and angry, which made you act in a way that made me – again – hurt and angry.

“It's a vicious circle, and not one I want or need in my life.”

“Are you saying we can't be friends again? That we couldn't be...more?”

And wow, that came out of left field. It did explain a few things though, like why Blaine had gone so far as to go to Kurt's home though.

Huh.

Blaine was asking him out? Not that long ago that would have made Kurt deliriously happy, and he would have said yes before Blaine even finished the sentence. Now however, now was...different.

When Blaine had fallen head over heels for Jeremiah he’d serenaded the older boy and talked about marriage – all based on a few coffee dates, that Jeremiah hadn’t even seemed to think of as dates.

When Blaine had dated Rachel he’d done so based on drunken kisses and duets. He’d showed up at McKinley at least twice a week, to take her out for lunch or coffee, and always took her to the movies and Breadstix during the weekends. He’d sung to her as well, both in the choir room and backed up by the Warblers out in the quad.

And Kurt? Kurt got an offer for coffee in Westerville after weeks of silence, which wasn't even presented as a possible date. Only a question if they couldn't be something more than friends – and that much only after Kurt pushed. And there hadn't been even a hint of an apology for Blaine's behavior.

“Really? That's where you're going now? You and Rachel broke up, what? A week and a half, two weeks ago? And now you want to date me?”

“Why? Why now, when you weren't the least bit interested before?”

Blaine opened his mouth, probably to protest, which, no. Not acceptable.

“Don't. Back at Dalton everyone knew I liked you. Hell, you knew I liked you – I told you. But you weren’t interested in me. And that’s okay, really. Not liking someone is your prerogative. Just as everything else you’ve done. Sure, you could have changed your mind, that happens, but why now? You didn’t see me as a potential boyfriend until I left Dalton and moved on.

“So I really have to ask why? Especially since you haven't apologized for a single thing you said and did before I left. In fact, you came here still pushing that I hurt you.

“To be brutally honest, it feels as if you’re trying to guilt me into dating you. I said some things that were hurtful and rude, but I did apologize. You don’t get to hold that over my head for the rest of my life, okay? That’s just not how things work.”

Kurt took a deep breath, trying to reign in his emotions.

“We both messed up. Sure, it’s not a competition, but that’s just the way it is.”

Wait...

The coffee shop Blaine had suggested was one Kurt had been curious to try, and he had hinted at going there several times. Blaine had never wanted to go there though, but now he'd suggested it. Maybe he'd done so to please Kurt, and a couple of months ago that would have made Kurt ecstatic. Now it just made him angry. Also very suspicious. Me thinks there's something rotten in the state of Lima...

“Wait. If you were angling for a date, why make me drive all the way to Westerville? We both live here, and I know you don't usually stay at Dalton during the weekends. So why not ask me to meet up at the Lima Bean? The cinema here is a lot better than you'd think, so why not suggest a movie? Or you could have really signaled that you intended it to be a date and made reservations for dinner at Breadstix. I know you are capable of that.

“You had so many options, and instead you want to go to a coffee shop you dissed repeatedly while we were still on speaking terms and insisted we go to the Lima Bean instead. Why?”

Quiet.

“Tell me, or leave.”

Blaine pouted a little at being questioned, but broke down quickly.

“It wouldn't be fair to Rachel to go on dates here. I just can't do that to her. You know what people are like, what they say to her. What do you think they'd say if her boyfriend went from dating her to seeing another guy?”

Kurt hated to admit it, but Blaine did have a point. He could imagine exactly what people would say much to well. Understanding that didn't mean accepting being given only crumbles though.

“So you're saying...what? That protecting Rachel from possible fallout is more important than making me feel valued? At what point would your breakup be far enough in the past for a date that doesn't mean leaving town? At what point would you stop treating me like your dirty secret?”

Kurt looked at the boy he'd thought was Prince Charming and felt empty. Even as he was asking Kurt out Blaine was putting Rachel's comfort and reputation over his. And apparently that meant he wasn’t going to openly date another boy in Lima. Or was that “openly date Kurt in Lima”? Whichever it was, it still hurt.

“You matter” his dad voice whispered in his head, yet Kurt couldn’t help but feel that he didn’t. Not to Blaine. Because if he did, then surely Blaine wouldn’t act ashamed of him?

All this, after having been strung along and rejected for over six months before finally saying enough.

The sad part, the horrible part? Blaine seemed certain it’d work. Not that Kurt didn’t see why – he had, after all, been absolutely pathetic when it came to begging for Blaine’s attention.

Kurt wasn’t sure what was most pathetic now though: the fact that a part of him still wanted to say yes, just to have a boyfriend, or that the only thing holding him back was the boy who’d bullied him, and who’d sent him running towards Blaine in the first place.

He could see himself accepting Blaine’s proposition, could see himself going out with the other boy, pitifully thankful for someone actually asking him out, and just ignoring all the reasons why he shouldn’t. Sure, he was sort of doing the same when it came to Dave, but there was a difference: Dave wasn’t angling to be his boyfriend. Also, with Dave he had an easy way out. There wouldn’t be one with Blaine – not for him.

He looked at Blaine and shook his head. This was pointless.

“Don't bother answering. I am not going to go out with you regardless. Thanks but no thanks, I guess.”

Blaine's blush increased and he started spluttering out a protest of some kind (at least that's what Kurt interpreted it as.)

“Look. I'd like you to leave now. I have, as I've said repeatedly, plans. I don't want to be late because of you.”

“Late? Are you actually meeting someone? Who?”

“Nice to know you think so low about my ability to find people to socialize with. Not that it's really any of your business, but after everything that had been happening I decided I wanted to try and meet more LGBT youth. I had no idea there were so many people I could connect with around here.”

It had been heady, finding all of these teenagers that could relate to what he had gone through growing up, and who were willing to accept him as he was. Not all of them were out, but that meant less to him these days. Besides, when the lion's part of communication and socializing happened online “out” became a completely different thing.

Of course, he wasn't actually meeting any of them now, but Blaine didn't need – or deserve – to know that he was meeting Dave.

“Really? That's great! I could go with you, it'd be great.”

Sigh. There apparently was no way getting through to Blaine that didn't include a verbal version of a 2 by 4.

“No. I have plans. You are not invited. And quite frankly, I can't imagine anyone of my new acquaintances appreciating someone else tagging along without warning. You see, I learned something really important from you. It was something I already knew, but didn't really get. So, I guess thank you for driving the lesson home.”

“And what lesson was that?” Blaine looked a little cautious, which indicated that yes, he actually had a functioning brain.

“You don't out people. Goodbye Blaine.”

And he closed the door, without slamming it – he was tempted, yes, but the way his luck was running he'd crack it or something.

Kurt waited 15 minutes before leaving, just in case Blaine was standing outside waiting to ambush him. Still, as he pulled out of the driveway he kept an eye out for Blaine's car. And there it was.

It was just so Blaine. He had been told, explicitly, that he wasn't welcome to join Kurt and whoever he was meeting – a person Kurt had hinted pretty heavily wasn't out. And Blaine had just decided none of that mattered because he wanted differently. Selfish bastard. He was going to deserve everything Kurt was planning on raining down on him.

Going to the garage was a detour, and not one Kurt really wanted to spend time on, but it was his best bet when it came to getting away.

It being a Saturday meant that Hummel Tires & Lube was running on a minimal staff, for planned jobs and emergencies only. That meant there was plenty of space for Kurt to pull into the fenced yard and park behind the garage. Next he walked through the building, waving at his dad, and peeked through the window. Yup, there he is. Blaine had parked so that he'd be able to see if Kurt left – or so he thought.

“What are you doing here, buddy? I thought you were meeting up with some of your internet friends?”

“Yeah, I am. Only it seems I picked up a stalker.”

Burt looked at him, sharp and worried.

“Mhm. Blaine – from Dalton, remember? – showed up at the house, and for some reason he thought I should agree to go out with him.”

“I thought you said he wasn't interested like that.”

“Yeah, that's what I thought too. After all, not only did I not even try to be subtle, but in the end I straight out told him. His response to that was – more or less – to start dating Rachel. I haven't really spoken to him since he called me a bully for not being supportive enough of that.

“He froze me out completely after that, even though I tried to apologize so many times, and that didn't change after I left.

“Only now he and Rachel broke up, and apparently Blaine thinks I'm still waiting around for him to notice me. I don't know why, because I'm not that much of a doormat, but he sure seems to think so.”

Burt gave him another sharp look.

“You sure about that? Because to me it looks like you were willing to put up with a lot – not just from him either – to get a boyfriend.”

Kurt blushed. He was well aware of his mistakes. Falling at Blaine's feet again was not going to be one of them though.

“Damned sure, dad. If Blaine hadn't insisted on dating Rachel first, then I probably would have agreed. But now? After being passed over not once, but twice? No thank you. Yes, I want a boyfriend. But I deserve someone who will look at me first, not as a backup once all other options have been explored.”

Because that was how Blaine made him feel. Like he was the living version of “two last people on earth”, and damnit if he didn't matter more than that.

“Okay. That's fair. I'm proud of you for sticking up for yourself. Now, what about stalking?”

“Well, when I told him that not only did I not want to go out with him but I also had plans – which I had told him when he called yesterday – he tried to invite himself along. Then he followed me here. After I told him he wasn't invited to come along, and that I had no intention of outing the person I was meeting.”

Kurt watched his dad's face turn red, and felt a bit guilty. His dad's heart attack wasn't too far back, after all. But. Needs must.

“Want me to talk to him?”

“Would you? I would be so grateful. And if you'd let me go out through the back I'd be even more so.”

Because that was why he had gone there, in the hopes of using the locked back gate few people thought about. Blaine would most likely never guess to its existence, and even if he did Kurt would be able to leave while Burt Hummel gave “the prep school stalker” a piece of his mind.

As Kurt drove off he kept thinking about Blaine's actions over the past 24 hours. It made no sense. Blaine really had treated him like the last resort. The faithful dog that would come crawling back for petting even after being kicked. And that really wasn't Kurt. Except...

He'd thought Blaine and Rachel a bad match because they both wanted to be the center of attention, something neither of them would get from the other. Kurt however had always been so happy to admire Blaine that he'd constituted a fanclub all on his own. And that, right there, held what Kurt saw as the possible explanation as to why Blaine was now looking to date him instead of one of Dalton's mythological gay or bi boys.

Kurt would have – before the shunning – been happy to make Blaine the most important thing in his life. And as he'd been shown over and over again, most people would never have looked at Kurt when Blaine was there.

Thirty minutes later, stretched out on a picknick blanket with a deliciously heavy body pressed against him Kurt smiled into kisses because Dave? Dave would never look at Blaine if Kurt was around.

Monday mornings were always a downer – coming from freedom and peace to McKinley was never fun, not even with the lessened bullying. This Monday however was in the running for most annoying of the year. In one word: Rachel.

She was laying in wait for him at his locker and started her attack as soon as he was within hearing.

“Kurt? Blaine told me he asked you out, and you turned him down? Why would you do something like that? Surely he must have misunderstood you?”

Blaine again. Kurt was beginning to wish for a time machine so he could go back and tell himself to stay as far away from Blaine as possible at all times.

“I was asking myself that same question for a bit, but if he's saying I turned him down then apparently he did get the message.”

She frowned, obviously not pleased.

“Look, Kurt, I know you have all these ideas about love at first sight and all that, but honestly? You have to be realistic. So it took Blaine some time to get to the point of asking you out – but do you really think it’s fair to punish him for that? You should give him a chance. After all, this is Lima – who else is going to–”

“What? ‘Who else is going to go out with me’, was that what you were going to say?”

And why wouldn’t she? This was Rachel Berry. Tact wasn’t one of her strengths – maybe not one of her character traits at all – and neither was empathy. This is Lima, remember? Remember what Dave said about you being his only option?

“Honestly? I know that this is Lima, and I know what that means. Hell, I was sure I’d have to wait until college to get a boyfriend, and you know what? I’m okay with that. I have more respect for myself than to go out with someone just because they ask” or at least I want to have “and I definitely have too much self-respect to go out with a guy that acts like I’m something to be hidden away and he’s only asking me because he’s out of options. You might not care about me and my happiness, Rachel, but I do.

“Yes, I turned Blaine down. Yes, I meant it. And no, I’m not regretting it.

“And frankly? It's more than a little pathetic for Blaine to have his ex try and sell him to someone new – even disregarding everything. It's also not at all attractive.”

The problem with Rachel Berry – be honest, Kurt, one of many problems – was that she was a lot more dangerous than she looked, and she didn't care about casualties as long as she got what she wanted. Well, he was not going to let one of those casualties be Finn.

“No, Quinn isn't cheating on you. I don't care what Rachel says, because unlike her I actually know what's happening. Yes, Quinn is doing something that she's not telling you about. No, that something isn't making out with her ex-boyfriend.”

“Then why isn't she being honest with me about what she's up to?”

“Because it's not her secret to tell. It's not mine either, so don't look at me like that. We all know you have a problem with keeping secrets. Not because you're a gossip, or untrustworthy, but because sometimes you forget who is and who isn't in on something. So, do you think you can trust me when I say that I know what's going on, Rachel's completely wrong, and you have nothing to worry about? Because I promise you, if Quinn was cheating on you I would tell you.

“Rachel's just stirring up shit, hoping that you'll dump Quinn and come back to her now that she and Blaine's over.”

“You promise?”

And Kurt's heart hurt as he looked at the boy that'd become his brother. Finn had believed Rachel's trash-talk because he was so used to being cheated on – and cheating himself – that he didn't know how to expect anything else.

“I promise. Now, want to help me finish up dinner?”

Crisis adverted. Hopefully.

Of course it wasn't that easy. Finn refusing to go along hadn't stopped Rachel – if anything it'd made her even more determined to dig up some kind of dirt. And in her wake had come Jacob ben Israel and his damned camera and pictures in the fucking Muckraker. He liked Sue Sylvester more than most students, and felt he owed her to a degree, but this was crossing a line he wasn't going to forgive in the first place.

Not from anyone involved.

And of course it all came to blows in Glee. Even worse? The newly recruited members were there to witness.

He'd been happy to see their numbers increase, but now he found himself wishing that Mr Schue had been as ineffectual as usual so that there hadn't been quite as large an audience to Sam's humiliation.

“No. Sam, you don't owe them an explanation. You don't owe anyone anything. Rachel's inability to keep her nose out of other people's business did this, not you or I. McKinely isn't safe for LGBT students and she knows it. She also knows that it doesn't matter if someone's actually LGBT or not, just what people believe. What Jacob ben Israel posted could have landed you in the hospital or worse, and Rachel was the one who led him there.

“Won't your dads be proud of you, Rachel, knowing what you've done?”

“I haven't done anything wrong! Quinn was the one sneaking around on Finn–”

“Shut up, Rachel. She wasn't doing anything wrong – she was being a good person. Remember what that is?”

Rachel wasn't the only one whose mouth fell open as Finn spoke. Quinn looked happy as she sent him a soft smile, and Kurt, Kurt was so damned proud of his brother.

“Finn!”

“No. Look, what I did to Sam–”

“We.”

“Fine, what we did to Sam was shitty. Yet somehow he and Quinn managed to keep some level of trust and friendship, and that's just... Awesome. And I am not enough of an asshole to get in the middle of that. I trust Quinn, and I trust Sam, and you don't get to say otherwise.

“As for Kurt, yeah, you don't get to say shit about that either. Sam's never been anything but cool with Kurt, unlike the rest of us, and I thought you of all people should know better than this.”

And wow, Finn had really worked on his “disappointed in you” look. It was quite frankly amazing. The others seemed to think so too, judging from how they reacted as Finn slowly turned to meet everyone's eyes.

“I hope I don't have to explain to anyone exactly how not at all acceptable it is to spread this shit around the school. I know I'd hate to end up in detention for fighting with a team mate, or for getting into it with a girl.” “That doesn't mean I won't” hung in the air, just as loud as if Finn had actually said it out loud.

“Mr Schue? Could we get back to what we're supposed to be doing here?”

And of course since it was Finn asking that was exactly what happened.

Kurt spent the rest of practice seething.

Rachel was waiting for him by the Nav after Glee, which meant she'd put on some really impressive speed to beat him there.

“Kurt. You have to listen to me. Finn doesn't understand how dangerous it can be, being LGBT in a town like this, but you and I, we do. You know how much danger Sam will be in if people think you are seeing him.

“There are already people whispering about you turning him gay, or worse. You remember what it was like before. Do you realize how bad this is for Sam? He could get hurt – someone could hurt him, because of this. Because of you. Do you really want that for him?”

“Of course I don't, but–”

It was like speaking to a wall, except less effective.

“I just...I think you should try and distance yourself from whatever it is that you think that the two of you have going on. You should get a boyfriend.”

And there it was. Find a boyfriend. Next she’d be pushing Blaine on him again.

Anyone else, Mercedes or Tina or Brittany or yes, even Santana, and he’d have been willing to think they were looking out for him, and Sam. But this was Rachel, and he knew her too well for that.

Maybe Rachel really did care about Sam, but, Kurt knew, for Rachel Berry it was always about her in the end. Apparently once her romantic relationship with Blaine was over they’d  allowed it to morph into some strange symbiotic friendship – which Kurt felt was probably less than healthy.

Blaine wanted Kurt to go out with him, and that meant Rachel wanted it too, meaning it should happen. After all, not getting what they wanted lessened the duos’ focus on being stars, or something like that.

Also – and okay, he had no proof for that part except for experience, but that was valuable enough – if Kurt wasn’t around Sam Rachel could focus on the fact that Quinn was, could try again to drive a wedge between the blonde and Finn, hopefully leaving Finn free for the taking.

Too bad Kurt wasn’t going to cooperate then.

“Look, Rachel, even if I did find a boyfriend it wouldn’t stop me from being friends with Sam, from spending time with him. In fact, any boyfriend worth the trouble would never try to stop me from that. And it’s not like something as simple as me staying away or the truth is going to stop the gossiping jerks of McKinley. It never has before.”

They'd both been subjected to enough gossip to know that, after all.

“Also, seriously Rachel? This is only a problem because of you. You had no business sneaking around and spying, and you most definitely had no right spreading those rumors. If someone hurts Sam because of that it won’t be my fault, it’ll be yours and Jacob ben Israel's. After all, we kept a low profile for a reason. No one would know about us being friends outside of the choir room if not for you and your big mouth and your damned stalking.”

“Then you need to do something about it! We'll find a girl to go out on a couple of dates with Sam – I'm sure Mercedes would be willing. And Blaine is still interested in you, all you have to do is stop playing hard to catch. This isn't the time to let your hurt feelings run the show, Kurt, this is when you need to be better than that.”

And wow, really? Did she crack completely while I wasn't looking?

“Thanks for that suggestion, Rachel. Now would you mind moving, I would like to get out of here.”

Except he couldn't stop thinking about everything. It all went round and round in his head, until the pieces started falling together in a very ugly pattern.

Twenty minutes after leaving Rachel behind in the parking lot Kurt rang the doorbell at the Berrys.

“Kurt! I knew you'd come to your senses! I have the perfect suggestion for you to–”

“Did you do it on purpose?”

“What?”

“Did. You. Do. It. On. Purpose? Did you lead Jacob there on purpose? Did you plan this, Rachel?”

The words were coming out louder and louder, dripping with bitterness, until he was practically shouting.

Hiram Berry came running in to the hallway, took one look at his daughter backed up against a wall and the furious Kurt, and started trying to defuse the situation. Kurt wasn't having it though.

“I'm not leaving without an answer, Rachel. I also don't have a problem with airing this in front of your dad, so if you thought him being here would save you, think again.”

“What's the matter, Kurt? Whatever it is I'm sure we can fix it.”

“Right. Well, see, Mr Berry, I really doubt that. Unless of course you have a time machine hidden away somewhere.

“See, once Rachel and her boyfriend broke up – supposedly because having to keep the New Directions' setlist secret from him was just so hard – she started trying to talk my brother into dumping his girlfriend by claiming she was cheating on him. When that didn't help Rachel decided to keep stalking Quinn in the hopes to take pictures that'd make Finn leave Quinn and come running back to Rachel – or so I assume, since it's not exactly common for her to do things like this without personal gain.

“Now, maybe I would have let Rachel get away with this normally, because she didn't stand a chance of getting what she wanted, but thanks to her actions a good friend of mine is actually in danger right now.”

“I had nothing to do with those photos! And if you're so worried about Sam you should stay away from him and–” Rachel snapped her mouth shut, possibly realizing she was close to saying something that would only give Kurt more ammunition.

“You didn't take those photos, no, but there is no way Jacob ben Israel would have found Sam there without you. You already know he stalks you on a regular basis, so why would you believe he isn't now, knowing that you're single again?”

“I'm sorry, but would you mind telling me what you're talking about?”

Rachel tried to serve her version, but Kurt just talked right over her and informed Mr Berry about exactly what had happened.

“That is horrible, and we are going to come back to that later, but for now I'd like to know why you were asking if Rachel planned this.”

“Because I know her?

“No, sorry. First of all there's Finn. She went to him first, but he refused to listen to her, choosing instead to trust his girlfriend. It would be very much Rachel's style to believe that spreading the information would make Finn change his mind.

“Second, when people started asking Sam if he was involved with me in some way Rachel suggested that I could protect Sam from being called gay – and subjected to the same treatment I get – by abandoning my friend and start dating her ex-boyfriend. That I have no interest in doing so, and have in fact turned him down already, wasn't a concern for her.”

Mr Berry frowned and gave Rachel an appraising look. She soon began to blush, leading Mr Berry to frown even harder.

“I'm really disappointed in you right now, Rachel. I suggest you go to your room and think about what you've done, and we'll talk about this when your dad comes home. Kurt, would you mind answering a few more questions for me?”

It ended up being more than a few questions, but seeing as the result was Mr Berry leaving to talk with both Jacob and his parents Kurt was fine with it.

He was even more fine with it the next day when he found out the results. Jacob had lost his camera and his channel was gone. The Muckraker had been disbanded and that everyone involved had been forced to apologize to everyone they'd trashed – including Sue. And the Evans family had gotten some proper help, both with their living situation and looking for jobs. Mr and Mr Berry did not play around.

The fact that Rachel was subdued and refused to even look at Kurt was just the cherry on top.

~TBC ~