#back when it was second hand embarrassment central i had to read the summaries first

[aro-aizawa]

im so glad that so far the fandom's ideas of shadybug and claw noir haven't been ripped to shreds im going lightheaded at how much im giggling

[ellaa-writes]

The Beast Within

author note: Part 1. Part 2 here. I wrote something close to this story on my first blog but I decided to redo it and maybe make it into a series? Anyways Alpha König is back! Alpha König headcanon can be found here. Will help with understanding this König. masterlist

summary: Omegas are rare, in a world full of Alphas and Betas. Being a Omega was not only dangerous but they were highly sought after. After living your life has a Beta in disguise, you meet a scary Alpha, but not any normal alpha. But a gaint Apex Alpha who won't stop at anything to make you his.

tags: 18+ only, slightly dub-con/non-con. Kidnapping vibes, Alpha/Omega dynamics. Female reader Mentions of alcohol and blood. Marking/biting. This is an Alternative Universe (which will be expanded). No smut in this but their will be eventual smut. vague mentions of nudity. Not proof read.

This was dangerous but it was exhilarating. The adrenaline coursing through your body gave you the sweetest high. You were in a packed night club somewhere in central Europe. The special blend of herbs and modern day pharmaceuticals that your best friend Kalina gave to you earlier, helping to mask your true identity. You were an Omega, which is very rare in this day and age. And there had to be at least hundreds of Alphas packed into this dimly lit club, bodies grinding on bodies. The musky smell and loud music filling the air.

Your friends got a private table on the 2nd floor, above the dance floor you were currently looking down on. You should be at home, preparing for you next heat that is only a couple of days away. But you've had a rough week at work, wanting nothing more but to feel the buzzing numbness from the alcohol. Turning back to your friends, one of them sliding a shot glass in your direction. Grabbing it and holding it in that air with the others. Bringing it to your lips and savouring the burning liquid. Joining the rest in slamming the small glass back in the table. One of your friends already trying to flag the bottle girl down for another round of shots. You sink was feeling warm and sticky, the alcohol doing its job. You closed you eyes for a second, enjoying the music and the vibration it sent through your body. But there was something else, something different.

It began creeping up your slow spine, goosebumps forming in its path up to the back of your neck. Where it bit down and stung, your reflexes acting out you touched your neck. Trying to find any indication you were bitten, but there was nothing. That strange feeling was sitting heavy in your stomach, it was either the 3 shots and 2 margheritas you had or the world was about to end. You slowly turned back towards the dance floor, but it wasn't down below. It was sitting across, in another private section. His eyes were burning flames of ember staring into you with such a fierceness that it scared you a bit. Your best friend reached out touching your arm which snapped you out of the trance you were in. Bringing you back to your surroundings. She looked at you with concern "You feeling ok?" she began rubbing her hand up and down your arm. You gave her a smile, nodding you head "Yeah, yes... I'm good. Just getting a little warm that's all." you let her know. A few of your friends began cheering when the server brought over another tray of shots. Making you and her to laugh, joining in and grabbing the glass from the tray before it was lifted away." Hold on, wait up. I just wanted to say, that I love you all so much and let's all hopefully get laid tonight. Alright, good!" Meave said, she was the oldest out of your group. Her gorgeous red hair danced around her shoulders while she did her speech, looking right into your eyes when she mention getting laid. Which made you blush, feeling a little embarrassed that she even said that. But it wouldn't be true to Meave. Her and Kalina are cousins, after meeting Kalina in year 1 you three became inseparable. "Oh don't listen to her babe." another one of your other friends whispered into your ear, making you giggle. You took the shot, setting the glass back down. You all but almost forgot about the stranger staring you down. But another stinging bite at the base of your neck, making you jump and yulp out of shock. Kalina and Maeve looking at you with concern. "I think something bit me" you yelled out, making a few of them laugh. You didn't notice it, when Kalina found the same eyes you saw earlier. The same uneasy feeling washed over her, she knew what he was. She could feel the power radiating off of the Alpha, but he wasn't just any ordinary Alpha. He was an Apex Alpha, she knew you were in danger. Apex Alphas were stronger than a normal Alpha, not just in psychical strength but mentally too. Their senses highented, making them damn nearly a God. At one point in history they were viewed as the closest thing to a demi-God, many believing they were the most special, having the blood and DNA of the gods running through them.

She grabbed you arm quickly standing up and pulling you up with her. Laughing you asked her "What's going on" trying to balance in the heals that Meave borrowed to you. "We need to go, like right now." she began pulling you towards the stairs, ignoring the calls from the others. She lead you down the steps, through the bodies and to the entrance of the club. "Hold up, Kalina. What the hell is going on." you tried pulling back, to slow her down but her grub only got stronger while she dragging through the exit and out onto the street. "Hey Kalina, talk to me." you tried getting in front of her. Trying to get her attention, but Kalina was in flight mode. Searching the street for any sign of taxi, when she found one she marched right over with you still in tow. Banging in the front passenger window, catching the driver off guard. "Are you running?" she asked quickly, the driver bossing his head and unlocking the door. "Hurry, get in. Quickly." she said while opening the back seat door and shoving you in. "Kalina what the fuck is going on." you asked while she closed the door. Reaching for the window down button. "Please get home and lock up immediately. I'll tell you later." she told you. She then went back to the front window and gave the driver your address before he quickly pulled away from the street and towards the direction of your small apartment.

You sat in the back seat, confused and starting to feel sick. The alcohol turning into bricks in your stomach.

Kalina watched has the taxi drove away, praying you'd get home safe and listen to her and lock up. Hoping that the Alpha would lose your sent. She turned back towards the club, noticing the Alpha storming out. His nose high in the air, sniffing you out. His eyes snapped towards her, her own fear taking over. She should have gotten in the car with you, but now she's in the path between a angry honey alpha and sweet omega pussy. She always pittied you, when you were young and coming into puberty. She could smell the changes happening to you, they were different than hers. She was a simple beta, but you became an omega. She knew the rarity of it, she also knew the risk of began one. Many of the omega being snatched up, nothing more than breeding machines to produce more alphas, female or male. She began helping you mask your smell at a young age and disguising yourself as a beta.

Sticking her head up high and ignoring the heated look he was giving her. She began to make her way back inside, but not before being pulled to the side by a pair of very thick solid fingers. The alpha had her corned, looking down at her. His nostrils flaring with anger, his chest rising and falling. He was trying to control himself, trying to push the animal that was inside him down. "Where is she." he said in between breaths. Kalina yanked her arm back "None of your business, now will you please excuse me." she began to move past the alpha but he grabbed her again. "Get off me." she yelled. Causing the bouncer and a few others to look in their direction. "You can't hide her forever." he called out to Kalina as she disappeared back inside. She hoped he was wrong.

You made your way inside you one bedroom apartment. Closing the door and locking in behind you. Your feet were sore and your head felt heavy. Walking into your kitchen to grab and glass of water. Standing in the dark, debating if you should wash your face or deal with the consequences in the morning. Refilling the glass you slowly walked to your small bathroom, turning the light on which made you wince. Pulling your hair back and using your expensive cleanser, one of the few things you splurge on. You found yourself kicking off the heals and peeling the tight dress you hand on off and falling into your bed. Only wearing the silky panties you had on, pulling the blankets down and over your body. Sleep found you quickly, drifting off into dreamland.

You woke a few hours later to what sounded like banging. You sat up in your bed, the blanket having fallen to your hips. Your tits out in the open, the air was cold causing your nipples to perk up. Listening in the dark for anymore noises and not hearing anything else you laid back down. Snuggling into your pillow, ready to fall back to sleep. But you heard your bedroom door slowly creak open. Your eyes snapped open, every hair on your body standing straight up. The same stinging from earlier made its way to the base of your neck again.

You instinctively reached out to your phone, but before you could full grab it. It was thrown across the room and you were flipped over on your back. The blanket that was covering your chest now on the floor. Thick hard fingers found themselves around your throat. The same burning ember eyes from the club were looking down at you. You didn't get a good look at him before, but you could see him clearly now. He was massive, not only in size but also in height. His head had to be nearly touching the ceiling. He was looking at with with such intense lust, the corners of his mouth turning up into a smirk. "I found you." was all he said before he removed his hand from your throat and brought his mouth to replace it. You could feel his hot breath fanning out over you jaw and down your chest. He pushed his nose into the vein that ran down the side, lightly licking its trail down to your crease were you neck net your shoulders. He paused a bit before he opened his jaw and bit down hard. Causing you to screaming and thrash, trying to push this gaint off of you. The trance you were in breaking and the panic and fear consuming you. Your screams got louder before his hand found its place over your mouth. "Shhh, darling. It's ok, I found you. Your safe now." he whispered into the side of your temple. Having released your neck, you could feel the blood drip down your back and onto the sheets below you. You began feeling dizzy, your vision getting blurry. He was still cooing into your temple, lightly kissing it and brushing his free hand over your hair. Trying to easy your fear and pain. You were stronger than he thought, fighting his trance once again. Once he felt you go limp in his arms, he let you go. Moving towards your closet, pulling out a shirt to cover you up with. He needed to cover you up, he knew if he didn't he would lose control. The beast in him still snarling and growling to get out.

[streets-in-paradise]

Tinuviel - Eddie Munson x (Fem)Henderson!Reader

Word Count 1.4 K

Warnings: Tolkien References, specially regarding The Silmarillion. 

Summary: Your Tolkien nerd discussion with Eddie leads him to discover a new weakness of yours and he can’t stop testing it. 

Notes: If you have been arround my blog for a while you will notice that this is self indulgent, but I am doing it anyways. 

Glossary (simplified): Ainulindale and Valaquenta: the first and second books of The Silmarillion

 Silmarils: The most precious jewels that ever existed in Tolkien lore. Created by Feanor, one of the princes of the Noldor elves. Morgoth ( who Sauron used to serve before being a powerfull evil lord himself) stole them and that unleashed the war that is central for the argument on most of The Silmarillion. 

 Mellon: elvish word for friend. 

Tags: @losersclubisms​ @dark-angel-is-back​​

It wouldn't be the first time you would end up confessing an embarrassing secret to Eddie. He was the keeper of some of your greatest sins in and out of your nerd experience. Details about yourself that no one else in Hellfire would get to know were easier to tell when you were all alone with him.  

He was always more curious that judgemental, even when things wouldn't make sense to him at first hearing. 

" Let me understand this: you have read The Iliad as a kid, but you got lost in your first reading of The Silmarillion ?" 

He didn't mean to offend you, but you felt ashamed. 

" Are you disappointed? Am I going to lose my fantasy nerd club membership card?" 

Just the mention of that was plausible to him. 

" Of course not... How would I ever let you go?" Was his teasing reply. " Homer is only one of Tolkien's sources, but the Catalogue of Ships is a nightmare! The Silmarillion has richer catalogues with interesting descriptions of the people, their land, bits of their culture and their leaders. The second book of The Iliad is just a bunch of names and numbers being thrown at you. I would take ' Of Beleriand and its Kingdoms' over Book 2 anytime." 

" That's exactly the point, it's way more complex!" You defended yourself. " The Silmarillion has the history, cosmogony, religion and philosophy of a completely fictional world all in one while being a chronicle of the entire First and Second ages. The Iliad doesn't even cover the full ten years of war and you can support your reading with history books on mycenaean greece. My first reading of The Silmarillion was four years ago and I had to come back later for a deeper understanding... I guess I am not that smart." 

The worshiping instincts that his secret crush on you had created kicked in, triggered by your ramble followed by self bashing. He could have continued the normal flow of the conversation, but chose not to because he would never help himself when it came to you. 

" You are brilliant, the most brilliant girl I know. I love to hear you talk, you could read to me the Catalogue of Ships and I wouldn't get bored." 

You giggled and to him that was mission accomplished. 

" Well, i bet The Silmarillion is even more epic and beautiful in your voice..." 

"... What is saying a lot, my lady. " He sweetly added, thanking your compliment humbly. " I accept it only because I like flattery and it has an extra taste when it comes from you. Anything sounds sweeter; every praise more magnificent and every victory greater when it is told from your lips, Tinuviel. " 

Eddie had you used to all sorts of lovely compliments, but nothing he had said before affected you in the same way. He was surprised at how helplessly weak for it you seemed to be, wondering what hitted you so deep to end up like that. 

Only after you stopped hiding your face with your hands and your eyes were back on him he got a glimpse of explanation.

" Don't use that name in vain, it's too powerful. " 

The lovely nickname that the mortal heroe Beren gave to elven princess Luthien, the most beautiful of all tales. Their sad love story was the most legendary, serving as inspiration for Aragorn and Arwen in the Lord of the Rings books. 

How could you have done anything but melting with love? 

" It fits you perfectly. " He insisted, refusing to let it go because he knew you loved it. " To the rest of the world you may be a simple mortal lass, human for most. Populars may have confused you for a hobbit because of the taste and skill for hiding you kept for years, but they were all deceived. You are Tinuviel, more precious to me than the Silmarils of Feanor. " 

It was the most beautiful thing he had said of you, so romantic that you almost thought you were just dreaming it. 

" Eddie, don't play with me." You complained, a real clamor from your heart that you tried to hush afterwards. " I wouldn't have been an elven lady, not even in the Third Age. Besides, Dustin has already helped me pick a Tolkien character as kids: I have always been the White Lady of Rohan. " 

" Can't you be both? Just for me? " He sweetly asked, totally convincing you with his puppy eyes. " It can stay between us." 

" It MUST stay between us. " You corrected, just the idea of being called like that in public was getting you even more flustered. " I don't want the guys to make fun of us because you are the only one who can possibly think of using that word on me. It's a sacred nickname: something you say to a top level beautifull girl or someone you love. They will think it is a joke and I wouldn't blame them. " 

Despite being aware you would understand his sayings, Eddie was just realizing he practically dropped a love confession clothed in Tolkien metaphors. Perhaps it happened because most people wouldn't have catched the full meaning with such precision and he previously thought you were going to associate it only with praise on beauty. 

" You are the prettiest girl who speaks to them on a regular basis. Trust me, mellon. If I wouldn't be a firm leader our table at the cafeteria would have become the trojan war."

You chuckled with amused skepticism and he cursed himself for not admitting that both of your assumptions were right. 

“ Helen of Troy? That is way too much, Munson. What is wrong with you? Are you practicing pick up lines to tell Chrissy Cunningham in literature class? Remember you will need someone to distract the king in order to steal the queen.” 

Eddie didn't act called out in the slightest, but he did return the callout. 

" If someone here shall be Paris, it has to be Harrington. That pretty boy who says he is your friend seems to love stealing you from us." 

" ... and you love to confuse him with things you know he doesn't understand. Don't add this one to the list, alright?" 

 If he had to be honest, he would admit he was dying for doing the exact opposite and force him to watch your adorable reaction. 

However, he was then too focused in practicing his new trick. 

" If you ban the nickname in his presence I still have the elvish name. I can call you Luthien, although I prefer Tinuviel because I feel it hits differently, don't you think?" 

Your face was speaking for you, his teasing was just self reaffirmation. 

" It has more love, makes me feel loved somehow. " You forced an answer out of yourself. " I'm sure that hearing you read the book must be incredible because when you say that it sounds so good ... Would you read it to me someday? Even If it is just a few pages of Ainulindale or Valaquenta, I would love that. " 

Seeking to actively romance you in the finest way he had, he accepted your request and made it bigger. 

" Tell you what? That sounds fantastic, but we can still make it better. What if we cuddle in bed and I read you some of 'Of Beren and Luthien' ? " 

The surprise in your eyes was priceless, happiness filling you despite how unsure you were about your chances of survival to such a tender moment. 

" That would be so wonderful! Would you really do that for me, Eds?" 

It was his moment to make it even sweeter and he wasn't going to waste it. 

" Anything for you, my Tinuviel. "

[mountswhore]

𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐞𝐫 — mason mount

summary: chelsea’s massage therapist, and mason’s long term crush, had moved to a different club. but after reuniting at nationals, you realise just how much you missed him.

notes: requests are open, just ask! this is so fucking long, please read when you have time.

“I will take care of you.” + “I could never get tired of you.”

for @masterclassbaby

“she’s pretty,” mason hummed, chin in the palm of his hands and eyes gazing at you. chelsea’s newest sports massage therapist. he watched as you conversed with a few of the injured teammates, the boys on either side of him laughing at his blushed cheeks.

“mounty’s in love.” chilly sang, pushing mason gently. the three of them were laying on the turf, waiting for their trainer to arrive and being introduced to the pretty lady who would be massaging their injured limbs from now on. “go on, make a move before kai does. you know he will.”

“i’m not making any moves,” mason huffed and pushed himself to his feet, ben following suit and pulling a ball towards him with his foot, “can i appreciate her beauty without wanting to make a move?” ben rolled his eyes at his friend, eyes now focused on the ball for the first time in twenty minutes.

“so you’re just going to stare at her, like a creep.” ben stated, stopping the ball with the side of his foot and kicked it back to mason. “noted.” mason was barely focused, looking over to you every time you laughed or your voice echoed. he’d laugh with you, crinkling his nose when you did, it was sickening.

ben had kicked the ball to mason’s feet, where is stilled and hadn’t even broken his stare. he had ‘regained control of the ball’ by kicking mason’s ankles, which had definitely caught his attention and caused him to hiss in pain. “you fucker, what did you do that for?”

“i just gave you a reason to talk to her, you clown.” ben revealed sarcastically, mason limping over to you as you held a look of concern.

“everything okay, mount?” you politely asked, the slight touch on his back as well as hearing his name fall from your mouth was sending him into a frenzy. he just nodded, and followed you inside to where your new office resided. “what the hell happened? last time i looked, you were kicking a ball about with chilly.”

your voice was as silky as he’d imagined. “yeah, he’s a bit slow. so he thought kicking me in the ankles would be a wise idea.” you couldn’t help but giggle at the man’s joke, avoiding his gaze as you were sure to blush. this man was attractive, but it was your first day, you had to remain professional.

“i better get to work,” you huffed, rubbing some hand sanitiser onto your hands and pulling his socks down. “we can’t have chelsea’s best player injured a few days before the game,” you’d finally met eyes and stared at each other for a brief second, before bashful looking away.

“you think that?” mason almost sounded unsure of himself.

“of course,” you grinned and applied some pressure to the side of his ankle, “i’d say you’re one of the best.” mason hummed almost silently, resting his head back on the table. it didn’t hurt, and if anything, he’d have to thank chilly for kicking his ankles, as it got you two talking.

weeks had passed, mason visiting your office most days with random excuses.

“my legs are fine. but maybe a shoulder rub for good luck?”

“i bought you a smoothie.”

“it’s cold outside, and i told the boys my thighs were sore.”

“now i’m just bored.”

every time he’d appear, you’d just pull up a chair instead of prepping the table. he’d talk to you about the most random of things, the pair of you having an intense debate on whether or not ross and rachel were on a break. he’d quickly become your favourite visitor.

“mr. mount, to what do i owe the pleasure?” you questioned, knowing it was him just by the way he fiddled with the handle before opening the door. he grinned at the nickname, sitting in the desk chair beside you.

“i actually came to ask if you wanted to go for a drink tonight. the boys were meant to, but now it looks like i’m all alone.” mason explained, a white lie thrown into the mix. he wasn’t being left by the boys, he asked them to cancel, so he could spend some with you. “so, you fancy it?”

“sure.” you smiled, accepting his invitation before you could overthink your way into cancelling. “i’ll text you my address.” he nodded his head, resting his head on his hands as you got on with paperwork. you could see out of the corner of your eye, he was staring at you as you worked. he had no training to be getting on with, and saw a better pastime in watching you work.

when you’d finally finished work and gotten yourself dressed up, mason was even more in awe of you. you looked adorable at work, and now he’d seen you in a new light. it’s like seeing your crush outside of school, it’s weird not seeing them in uniform, but seeing a new layer of them was good. he’d picked you up and taken you to the nicest pub he could find, it was a quiet one. it was a pub you had to pay extra for to sit on the terrace with a table to yourself. but he was willing to go the distance.

“it’s weird not seeing you in your kit.” you mentioned, staring at his impeccable sense of fashion. like he’d been ripped from the front page of asos. mason chuckled loudly and sipped on his beer, after doing a brief ‘cheers’ with you. it was british tradition, after all.

“i know. i’m used to seeing you in leggings and a chelsea top.” mason observed, his cheeks blushing at the way you looked at him. he felt the butterflies begin to swarm in his stomach, like they did on the way here. “now you’re in a dress, i can see your legs.” his eyes widened at the weird statement that just fell from his lips, face burning with embarrassment. “sorry, that sounded so creepy.”

you burst into laughter, feeling anything but disturbed. in fact, you felt more comfortable with him. “don’t worry about it, you’re easy to feel comfortable with.” mason took this chance to hide his rosy cheeks by sipping on his beer. the pair of you conversed for well over an hour, your conversations from work spilling into the mix too. and soon enough you were laughing on the walk back to your home.

“that’s hilarious. i can’t believe we could’ve almost met years ago.” you exclaimed, mason proud of recalling that memory. the pair of you remembered an awful christmas concert that happened in a town near central london, and were almost inches apart unknowingly covering your ears at the screeches made by the backup singers.

you’d ended up at your door, mason standing just centimetres away from your face. you knew what he wanted, and you wanted it to. so, with the confidence given to you by the mixer you’d just downed a while ago, you closed the gap between you and engaged in a sweet kiss with him. it was well overdue, mason’s teammates would say as he told them the following day.

you’d settled in really nicely with the team, enjoying every day you spent at the training grounds. you’d only been on that one drink date with mason, always planning to reschedule another but you’d both be too busy to do so. it didn’t stop you from texting nonstop and have some late night facetime calls. you were really beginning to like each other. it was as if nothing could ruin your happiness you felt with your life at this moment.

until you’d been pulled aside and told by chelsea’s own manager that a man united massage therapist had quit, offering you the job. it would mean your whole life would shift, you’d have to move, you’d have to make friends with a team all over again, and leave mason. you couldn’t bear telling him, which you’d also been told to do. you’d have to break the news to your beloved team, who would come and cheer with you after a win, and always pester you with random requests. you were each of their’s personal assistant almost, loving your relationship with them all. and mason, you knew he’d be crushed, the girl he was so deeply falling for, being told to move to another club.

you were on edge since that very morning, not being your usual joking self with your boys as they came in for their sessions. you’d weakly smile at them and make small talk whilst tending to their stiff joints, then let them leave. all the boys carried on with their day, assuming you were just having a bad day. but mason could see through you, he could tell something was playing on your mind.

as you were putting pressure on mason’s ankle, which he’d been take off the pitch for last week, he grabbed your arm gently. sitting up, he pulled you close to him and held you how he usually did. his hands grazing your sides and his eyes almost burning holes into your own. “talk to me, pretty. what’s on your mind?”

you shook your head. “i’d go easy on the foot today, mount. i don’t want to see you benched next game.” would you even be able to see their next game? it brought you close to tears throughout the day, but being trapped in a room with mason, you were bound to cry and tell him everything.

his grip didn’t leave your arm, instead he pulled you closer to him and held you close to his chest, now standing and towering over you. you felt a sob erupt through your chest, opening the flood gates as you cried into him. he’d never seen you like this, you were always his smiling ball of sunshine. “talk to me, y/n.”

“they’re moving me.” you simply stated, hoping not to say another word and him just understand completely. but it didn’t work like that, none of the team knew. mason would be the first to know, and you had to tell the rest of the team before the day was up. as this weekend you’d be arranging accommodation in manchester whilst you looked for permanent residence, as well as meeting the team and staff you’d be working for.

“what?”

“they’re moving me to united, mase. a therapist quit over there and they asked for me, your manager signed me over a few days ago. and i’m gonna be leaving you boys.” you explained, mason’s grip on you loosening as he tried to come to terms with what you were saying. he’d had his fair share of bad news in his life, but this was the biggest blow he’d felt in a while.

“they can’t do that,” mason stuttered over his tears, a frown cast upon his face, “they can’t just expect you to pack up and leave.” you placed your hands over his cheeks, forcing him to look down at you. that’s when his tears began to fall, looking so vulnerably at each other in this time of sadness.

“they can, mason. and they have, i need to go this weekend to meet the team and look to move up there.” you admitted, your hands refused to leave his face. you were soaking up every bit of mason you could before you left. long-distance didn’t work for either of you, especially with how busy you both were. the only time you’d see each other would be if chelsea were to play united.

“i can’t lose you, y/n.” he confessed, pulling you into him and resting his head above yours. it wasn’t just losing a girl he was seeing, it was losing someone he loved. he’d fallen deeply in love with you — but telling you would just hinder your movement. he couldn’t make it any harder than it was, it would ruin you. he just had to let you go.

that afternoon, you’d thought about what you were going to say and met the boys on the pitch. the second mason saw you, it took everything in him to not cry into his hands. but he managed to stay strong. you stood weakly beside the team manager, avoiding everyone’s eyes and fiddling with your jumper sleeves.

“afternoon boys,” you greeted them, hearing a few cheers and whistles, they loved you, “i have some news. today will be my last day working with you. i’ve been transferred to united, which will take full effect this weekend. you guys have my number if you just want to talk rubbish, or have any questions for me.” it was a long while of hugging them all, laughing with them and repeating little inside jokes with them.

“what are you going to do without me, huh?” you asked reece, who just chuckled and gave you a squeeze. “i’ll miss you all, you know who i’ll be cheering on if you ever go against united.”

you’d settled in at united perfectly, but something was missing. it was always going to feel this way, nothing would ever break the bond you shared with the chelsea boys. even when they went head to head, and you’d catch mason’s eyes on the pitch, you’d have to hide your smile when they scored, and try even harder if mason was the one putting it in the back of the net. you got on well with the boys here, but you found yourself missing the boys back at chelsea, and most of all, mason.

months had passed since your move to manchester, and you were heading out of your office on a particular tiring friday afternoon, walking past united’s manager, who always seemed to be on his way to something.

“ah, y/n, just who i needed to see.” he commented, stopping you as you were headed out to find a late rashford for his session. “keep an eye on your emails tonight, please. you’ve been included in an international offer.” you nodded, not hearing anything past the word ‘email’. and when you’d gotten home that evening, waiting for your takeaway to arrive, you mindlessly scrolled your emails.

something about the upcoming world cup, saying you’d been selected as the teams massage therapist. it burned your eyes as you danced around your tiny living room; so happy to have a chance at seeing any of the chelsea boys again. you’d thought that after all these months of just seeing mason’s face in his instagram posts, he’d have forgotten about you and moved on. but it was the furthest from the truth.

mason watched over your socials for months, seeing your various pictures with the likes of rashford, shaw, and lingard. he made sure you had friends and was having a good time up north. but every night he’d go to bed, yearning for you and the time you both spent together. missing your first kiss, missing hearing the sound of your laugh in real life, not just through another footballers videos. he missed spending hours on the phone. and although he had a chance to reconnect with you, it would be too much for the both of you to handle. he’d miss you so much more, knowing you were simply unobtainable.

after signing all of the correct documents to show you could in fact work for the national team, you were on your way to the training grounds and coping with living in the camp alongside the boys and other members of staff. it was better than your tiny manchester apartment, that was for sure. you weren’t really needed outside for training, so you set up your office and began on your paperwork. time passed a lot quicker here than it did when you worked at united, it was nearing your lunch break already. a knock was placed at your door, bringing your out of your work daze.

“hello, stranger.” you heard from behind you, heart overjoyed that it was actually him. it was your mason. you turned round to greet him, standing up and immediately pulling him into a hug. it felt familiar, the only bit of familiarity you had in this place. “god, i missed you.” he even smelt the same, as creepy as it was to say.

“i knew you’d be called up,” you admitted to him, looking up at his red face. it was just like the first time, he was so nervous to talk to you, “you’re still my best player.” his hands found your cheeks, taking advantage of the affection not feeling awkward. it was as if you never left.

“you don’t understand how much i’ve missed you all these months, y/n,” he whispered, face centimetres away from yours. “how much i’ve wanted to kiss you again.” you wanted it too, you finally felt like you found your missing piece. but you had to remain professional, this was national level now, not just club level.

“trust me,” you whispered back at him, holding your hands above his own, “i’ve wanted to kiss this pretty face, too. but we have to be professional.” he nodded, understanding that if they were caught, you’d be the one facing repercussions, not him. so he respected your choice and stood back.

“what about when the day’s over, and we go back to the camp,” he suggested, a hand on your shoulder to stop you from turning around, “what would you say to me then?” you just shrugged, sitting back down in your chair and continuing your work. the remainder of your day was quiet, just talking about a few people tomorrow that have stiff joints that need loosening. you’d made your way back to camp, opening your door and sighing as you took your shoes off.

what room are you in? mason texted, waiting outside his door.

you’re eager, i just finished work. but i’m on the floor above you, room 39. you texted him back, speedily changing your attire for something more comfortable and freshening up. mason would be up here within seconds. and whilst there were no rules stating that the squad shouldn’t be in staff members rooms, it felt wrong.

“you’re gonna have to leave when nobody can see you.” you sighed, opening your door to an eager mason. he wormed past you and sat on your bed, semi annoyed that your bed was comfortable than his.

“so not only do you get a room to yourself, you get a bed that doesn’t feel like a plank of wood.” mason stated, clearly getting comfortable on your bed. “i just might have to stay here.” you rolled your eyes and sat beside him, resting your head on the pillow. “you tired?”

instead of saying anything, you nodded and inched closer to him. his right hand was drawing delicate patterns on your exposed arm, whilst the other was wrapped around you. this was the moment he wanted with you, even when you were working at chelsea. but it’s happening now and that’s all he cared about. holding the girl he still deeply loved in his arms.

“i’ll go down to dinner soon,” he mentioned, even if you could hear him or not, “maybe i’ll bring you something up.” a small kiss was placed on your temple, mason snuggling into you a bit more.

the next day, you knew you had some sessions. so you were up early, a text from mason on your phone.

i left late last night, i fell asleep once i came back from dinner. i hope you had a good night.

you blushed at his text, getting yourself prepared for the day. the boys had a match coming up soon and you wanted to be on top of your game, making sure they were all stretched and ready. you sat in your office, prepping your table and your paper work for the first person to enter.

you’d worked with grealish, bellingham, and lingard today. and they only had a few more hours training until they were done for the day. you sighed in your seat and rested your head against your desk, arms and hands sore. your handle was violently shoved down, your door opening in the process. startled, you watched declan carry his best mate in.

“he rolled his ankle taking a kick,” declan explained, helping his friend onto the table. you quickly sanitised your hands and pulled his sock down to observe his ankle. “will he be okay for the game in a few days?”

“yes, dec. he’ll be out in no time.” you reassured his friend, mason smiling through the sharp pain shooting through his ankle. declan had left shortly afterwards, leaving you to giggle at mason.

“what you giggling at, hm?” mason questioned, a finger tickling your side. you squirmed and brushed a hand over his head, his features relaxing under your touch.

“it’s always the ankles, hm?” you retorted, mason rolling his eyes before letting out a laugh of his own. “let’s get you back on your feet in time for this game.” you had taken his boot and sock off, applying gentle pressure to the sides of his ankle and seeing how badly he reacted to the pain.

after the next few days of training, it was finally time for the match. you stood nervously on the side of the pitch, watching the ball being passed around. you watched as it had gone to mason, someone from the opposing team sliding into mason, and knocking his ankles together. he fell and began to yell in pain, the medics rushing over to him and assessing the pain. after realising it was not too serious, but he still had to be taken off, they’d given the job to you.

mason sat on one of the chairs beside you, head leaned back as you pulled his socks down. he winced as your small, cold fingers had pressed different parts of his ankle, but it didn’t feel bad. in fact, it was quite relieving. “it really is always the ankles,” mason finally agreed, making you chuckle and sit on the floor opposite him, “god, it fucking hurts.”

“i will take care of you,” you mentioned, your hand sliding into his. he smiled at the contact, his free hands gently tickling your side. this small amount of public affection felt scary, but good. you knew someone would pick up on it, but you didn’t care in the slightest. you had been away from mason for far too long. months and months apart, yearning for each other every second you were awake.

when the match was over, england scoring a whopping 4-0, mason was by your side for the rest of the evening. even getting onto the coach to go home, he sat beside you the whole way; his hand in yours and his head gently resting against your shoulders. when heading back to camp, knowing you had a day’s break before the boys were back on for training again in time for the next match, mason followed you to your room. you didn’t mind, neither did anybody else really.

you’d gotten into bed beside him that night, eyes heavy from the amount of work you’d both put in today, and the buzzed feeling from declaring victory had awoken something in him. he had the urge to kiss you, like he has every moment he’s spent with you recently, but more than that. he wanted to tell you he loved you, but decided to keep quiet. he wanted to save it for another day, maybe someday more special, when you weren’t trying to catch up on sleep between games.

“are you tired of me?” mason asked, releasing his voice into the darkness. he had no idea whether you were awake or asleep, as half an hour had passed of you both enjoying each other’s presence. you were wide awake, although your eyes told a different story.

“i’m tired in general,” you admitted, rolling over to face him, barely catching his pearly whites in the dark, “but i could never get tired of you.” mason’s heart was beating through his chest, reaching out for your hand to place onto it. it was a special moment — feeling his heart rapidly paced from your words, you’d barely noticed mason’s arm around you as he pulled you into him.

“good, because i’m not letting you go again,” he spoke quietly, your hand now replaced with your head, feeling his pulses on your cheekbone. you smiled for the millionth time that day, happy you had your mason back.

[mtap-comics]

So, I got myself a Bad Thins Happen Bingo Card from @badthingshappenbingo...

Like it already says in my blog header I'm not a good writer and I'm using it more as a writing practice. These stories will definitely be completely self indulgent, but maybe someone out here likes it nonetheless.

The first one here already got way out of hand, so please enjoy the almost 5000 words of hurt and lots of comfort/fluff:

Fandom: My time at Portia

Pairing: Arlo x Female Builder (Pre-Relationship)

Summary: Elenya's day off didn't go as planned, but maybe it wasn't all bad either.

Word count: 4957 Prompt: Twisted Ankle

Warnings: mention of blood, may give you cavities

Read on AO3: Link

Beware of the apple trees

It was a warm autumn day in Portia. It seemed like the summer wasn’t really ready to go just now and Elenya didn’t mind one bit.

It was her first autumn since she arrived in Portia and she really loved all the colours nature had to offer. While Barnarock was her home for a long time, Elenya definitely didn’t miss the hot, dry and harsh weather. Also for the first time since her arrival, she was taking a day off. Arlo practically forced her after she collided with him on the stairs to the Central Plaza yesterday and only avoided falling down the stairs thanks to his quick reflexes.

~~~ The evening before ~~~

Elenya was completely exhausted after pulling a few all-nighters to get the tree farm running again and finishing all her other open commissions. She was just coming down from the clinic, where she delivered a tea table to Dr. Xu, and decided to take the long way home, past the wishing tree and then up the main path to Peach Plaza. While that was her last point on her to-do list for today, her tired mind already wandered to all the things she had to do tomorrow. Engrossed in her thoughts, she didn't notice the figure coming towards her on the stairs and collided directly with its shoulder.

Startled, she lost her footing on the steps and already prepared herself to make closer acquaintance with the stairs. But in a flash, a hand closed around her upper arm and she was pulled against a strong chest. With a racing heart, she looked up to see who just saved her from breaking her neck and concerned blue eyes met her green ones.

Oh no, why did it have to be him?

“Elenya, are you okay? Did you hurt yourself?” Arlo’s deep voice sent a pleasant shiver down her spine and she could feel how her cheeks warmed from embarrassment.

Couldn't she have made a fool of herself in front of someone else?

She tried to regain her balance and take a step back from the warm presence in front of her, but her exhausted body wouldn’t have it. Her left leg buckled out from under her.

“Woah, hey! Careful!” Immediately, a second hand closed around her other arm and she was carefully guided down to sit on the stairs. “Elenya?” Arlo was now crouching in front of her and his concerned gaze was looking her up and down, probably searching for injuries, reminding her that she hadn't given him an answer yet.

“Don’t worry, Arlo, I’m fine. Nothing’s hurt.” She tried to give him a reassuring smile, but a huge yawn interrupted her. Arlos face furrowed and she could see how his gaze fixated on her bloodshot eyes. “You definitely don’t look fine. When was the last time you slept?”

Sheepishly, she tried to avoid his worried gaze, but a gloved hand on her cheek gently turned her head back to him. His blue eyes pierced through her, and with a sigh she gave in.

“I may have gotten about 2 hours of sleep in the last 3 days.” The furrow between his eyes deepened. "That's not good. Why would you do that? You need to take better care of yourself." An embarrassed blush covered Elenyas cheeks.

“There’s just so much work to do. The tree farm needed its watering system, the days are getting colder, so there are a lot of small repairs and… I just… can’t say no if someone needs my help.”

Understanding spread across Arlo’s face. “While I admire your work ethic and selflessness, you are no use to anyone if you work yourself to the bone.” Worried, his thumb softly caressed her cheek and she let herself lean into his touch.

“Please, take the day off tomorrow and sleep as long as you can. I don’t want to imagine what would have happened if I weren’t able to catch you.”

She didn’t want to, either.

“Okay, I will take a day off.” The next huge yawn escaped her.

“Good, now let’s get you home. Your bed is waiting for you.”

With Arlo’s help, Elenya was able to get home without any further incidents and as soon as her head hit her pillow, she was out like a light.

~~~~~~

Now she was here, on the southside of Portias’ wall, on her way to the Bassanio Falls after a good 9 hours of sleep and she begrudgingly had to admit that she felt a lot better already. 

It was already past noon and the only thing she did was stocking up her furnaces with ore, so she would have enough bars for tomorrow, and tending to her crops. It felt strange, to not work after over half a year of constantly working on commissions and upgrading her workshop, that she didn’t even knew what to do with herself at first. But then she caught sight of the Bassanio Falls from behind her house and decided to grab a blanket, something to eat and a book to read comfortably by the water.

~~~~~~

The sun was already setting when Elenya made her way back to her workshop. She hadn’t felt that relaxed in a long time, even before coming to Portia, and she definitely had to thank Arlo for that.

Maybe I should invite him to dinner at the round table?

This thought triggered an image in her head that made her blush. Arlo sitting across the table from her, talking about his day or laughing at one of her bad jokes. Oh, how she loved his laugh. Just the thought of it triggered a warm feeling inside her and her lips automatically twisted into a smile. Oh boy, she was so screwed.

“Miss Elenya!”

A young, boyish voice snapped Elenya out of her daydreams, and confused, she looked to her right towards the eastern city gate. Beside it, she spotted Toby, who, waving wildly, motioned her to approach him.

“Hey Toby, what’s up?” Elenya smiled down at the adventurous boy after reaching him.

“I wanted to pick some apples, they look so delicious today, but unfortunately the lowest branch of the tree here broke off and now I can't get up. Can you help me?” Big, pleading eyes looked up at her, and while she knew that the boy was normally full of shit, she still couldn’t resist the puppy dog eyes. “Sure Toby, which one would you like?”

“Oh, thank you very much, Miss Elenya! Do you see the aroma apple directly above us? I’m sure my mother can bake something delicious with it.” Toby pointed above his head and there really was one big, red and shiny apple that looked heavenly.

“No need to thank me. Just make sure Martha leaves me some of her baked goods.” Laughing lightly, Elenya put her bag down, grabbed the branch closest to her and started hauling herself up. She hadn’t climbed a tree in forever, but it took her less than a minute to get to a suitable branch from which she could reach the apple. But just as she picked it, her eye caught another, almost larger one.

“Hey Toby, here's an even bigger apple. I'll throw the first one down so I can get that one for you, too.”

Elenya threw the apple to Toby, who shouted a thank you to her, and then thought about how best to pick the next apple. This one was just out of her reach and she cursed her small height. Then a branch slightly above her caught her attention and an idea sprang to her mind.

She held onto the branch with her left hand and was thus able to bend forward a little more. But just as she held the apple triumphantly in her hand and was about to lean back, the branch she was holding onto broke off and she lost her balance.

Startled, the apple fell out of her hand and a small cry escaped her. She tried to grab for the nearest branch, but that only caused her forearms and hands to be scraped open and before she knew it, she was sitting on the ground a little dumbfounded, her face and upper arms additionally scratched by small branches.

“Miss Elenya! What happened? Are you okay?” A frantic Toby ran to her and examined her anxiously. 

“Ouch, that hurt...” She winced, but tried to smile reassuringly up at him. “Don't worry, just a little roughed up.” “Are you sure? That must have been at least 2 metres.” He looked at her sceptically.

“Yeah, see? No harm d…” She tried to get up, but as soon as she put weight on her left ankle, pain shot up her leg and she crumbled back to the ground. “Ouch, or maybe not...”

“Oh no, what’s wrong? Is it your leg?” Toby’s eyes snapped to her left foot. “Yeah, I think I twisted my ankle…”

Elenya carefully rearranged her limbs, which wasn’t that easy with scraped hands, so that she leaned against the tree trunk and her legs were stretched in front of her. She tenderly prodded at her ankle, and yeah, that definitely hurt.

Oh man, and her day started so well…

“I’m so sorry, that is all my fault.” Toby hovered at her side anxiously, helpless and with actual tears in his eyes. She quickly tried to reassure him. “Hey, don’t worry, it’s okay. And it’s not your fault, just bad luck and my clumsiness. But could you go find someone from the civil corps? I will need some help getting to Dr. Xu…”

While she hated to admit that she needed help, she knew she couldn’t walk on her bad ankle and she wasn’t actually sure if it really was just twisted.The more her adrenalin faded, the more it started to hurt. Plus, the prospect of being able to do something seemed to put Toby at ease.

“Yes, I can do that. Stay here, I’ll be right back.” With that, he was already on his way, running as fast as his short legs would carry him.

Elenya smiled at the retreating form. While the boy loved to cause trouble, his heart was in the right place and he will make a good civil corps officer one day.

~~~~~~

Less than 5 minutes later she could see a horse and 2 people hurrying towards her. Relief washed over her. Her ankle was really getting uncomfortable and she couldn’t wait to get some ice on it. But then she could make out the white fur of the horse and a mop of red hair.

Oh no, why couldn’t Toby have found Remington, or even Sam? After almost falling down the stairs yesterday, she now has to tell him she fell out of a tree. What must he think of her?

“Elenya! Are you okay? Toby told me you hurt your ankle, but what happened?” Arlo instantly kneeled down beside her feet as he reached her and looked at her with concerned eyes.

She had to make a pitiful sight. Scratched arms and face, leaves in her long black hair and an already swelling ankle.

A blush spread over her cheeks. “Hey Arlo, I ehm… may have fallen out of a tree…”

A look of pure confusion appeared on Arlo's face. If she wasn't so embarrassed, she probably would have laughed because she had never seen the captain so bewildered.

“You fell out of a tree? What were you doing up there?” “It was my fault,” piped Toby in. Surprised, Arlo looked at the boy. “I couldn’t reach this apple here and Miss Elenya offered to help me. But one of the branches broke and now she is hurt because of me.” While talking, he pointed at the big apple who lay forgotten on the ground and guilt coloured his face.

“Like I told you before, it wasn’t your fault, Toby. Just my bad luck striking again.” “She is right, Toby. It was an accident. You couldn’t have known that that would happen.” The reassurance of the both of them seemed to get through to the boy and relieved, he took a step back to give Arlo more space.

“Now, let me see your ankle.” Arlo carefully prodded at her already swollen ankle and she couldn’t contain a wince. “Sorry, but that definitely needs to be looked at by Dr. Xu. What about your hands? They seem to be bleeding slightly.” Surprised, Elenya looked at her hands. She was so distracted by her foot that she didn’t even notice the burning sensation of the scraps, but now that her attention was called to it, she couldn’t ignore it any more.

Hands clad in fingerless gloves cupped the back of her hands carefully and Arlo’s head was suddenly a lot closer to her face than before. Concerned blue eyes roamed firstly over her hands, then over the cuts on her face before landing on her own eyes.

“You sure did a number on yourself. Didn’t I tell you to take a day off?” A fond smile played on his lips and up this close, Elenya was even able to make out the faint laughing lines around his eyes. Her brain short circuited at the realisation of how close he was and before she could muster a response, he surprised her again by running one of his hands through her hair, effectively combing out the leaves and twigs in it.

She couldn’t help but close her eyes and lean into his touch. Her ankle hurt, her hands burned and with the setting sun she was getting cold. While the gesture was more of the practical manner, it was soothing and she was almost sure that Arlo kept the motion up for a little longer than necessary.

Satisfied with his work, he got back to his feet. “Come on, let’s get you up on Spacer and to Dr. Xu.” He extended a hand to her, but she had to decline the offer. “I don’t think I can stand up on my own and I won’t be able to hold onto something.” A frown appeared on Arlo’s forehead and he seemed to consider the options they had. “Hmm… I could carry you, if that’s alright with you?” Questioningly, he looked down at her and… was there a slight blush on his cheeks? No, she had to be imagining it.

“Oh, sure.” Elenya could feel how her own cheeks warmed again, the prospect of being even closer to Arlo making her heart race.

“Okay, here we go.” He slid one arm under her knees and the other behind her back. And while he tried to stand up as carefully as he could, it still jostled her foot and she couldn’t contain a small whimper.

Fuck, that hurt.

She buried her face in Arlo’s neck to hide from the pain and the smell that greeted her there actually helped her relax. He smelled like clean sweat, leather and something earthy that was just him . He smelled safe.

“I’m sorry, Elenya. And I’m afraid the next step will hurt again.” He really sounded sorry and comfortingly pressed his cheek against the top of her head. Then he made his way to Spacer, who was waiting patiently a few metres away, making sure to stand on his left side.

Elenya just wanted to ask how he planned to get her up on the horse, when he lifted her even higher until she was sitting sideways on the saddle. Stunned, Elenya looked down at him.

How fucking strong was that man?

“So, now we just have to slide your right leg to the other side and we are set to go.” He put his hand on her waist to stabilise her and behaved like lifting up people on horses was the most normal thing in the world. Still a little stunned by the casual display of muscles (and a little turned on, if she was honest), she followed his leading hands and clumsily managed to bring her leg on the other side of Spacer.

While that indeed hurt again, this time she managed to suppress the whimper.

Satisfied with her position, Arlo squeezed her thigh comfortingly and made his way back to the tree, where he picked up her forgotten bag. “Toby? Can you bring Elenya’s bag back to her workshop?” Toby, who had watched the whole scene with wide eyes and who she had almost forgotten, immediately straightened up and eagerly accepted the bag.

“Sir, yes, sir!”

“Oh, and one more thing,” Arlo said to the boy, who shrank under his stern glance, “stop roping unsuspecting builders in your shenanigans, okay?” Toby nodded eagerly. “Yes, I will. I’m really sorry Miss Elenya. I hope your ankle gets better soon.” With that, he clutched her bag against his chest and ran off towards her workshop.

“Great, now let’s get your injuries sorted out.” Arlo stepped up next to Spacer and with one fluid motion, he was sitting behind her in the saddle. Elenya could feel his warm chest against her back and her heart gave a little leap when his left arm wrapped protectively around her waist. His right was holding the reins and with a gentle nudge to Spacer, they were on their way toward the clinic.

With a soft sigh, Elenya closed her eyes and let herself melt against the warm presence behind her, her head coming to rest against Arlo’s shoulder. The exhaustion of the last few days caught up to her again and the constant pain in her ankle robbed her of her last strength. She just wanted to forget the pain for a moment and bask in the warm and safe feeling the civil corps captain always evoked in her.

The arm around her waist tightened. “Hey, are you okay? You didn’t hit your head, did you?” Arlo’s concerned gaze burned a hole in the side of her head and she quickly turned her head to give him a reassuring smile. “No, don’t worry. I’m just still tired and you are really warm.” To prove her point, a cold breeze over her bare arms let her shiver and she snuggled a little closer to him.

“Then I’m glad. A sprained ankle and scraped hands are enough for one day.” His soft chuckle warmed her from the inside and he somehow managed to shield her with his own body from the cold evening breeze for the rest of the way.

5 minutes later, they finally arrived outside the clinic and Arlo lifted her off Spacer just by grabbing her waist and carefully lowering her down until she could stand on her good leg. 

She was a, although not too tall, fully grown human. Where did he hide all those muscles? His leather jacket wasn’t that tight.

“Do you want me to carry you inside or want me to help you walk?” The question snapped her out of her short daydream about how his upper body would look without clothes. 

Suppressing a blush, she briefly thought about the question. She probably could have hobbled in somehow with his help, but it had felt so good to be carried by him that she couldn't resist. “Could you carry me, please?” Sheepishly, Elenya looked up to him, but he only smiled at her and with a soft “Sure”, she was in his arms again.

~~~~~~

It seemed like Dr. Xu was just putting away his utensils for the day, Phyllis already gone, when Arlo carried her through the door. “Alro, Elenya! What happened?” He quickly approached them and directly noticed the various scrapes and grazes on Elenya's face and arms, before his professional eyes catched on her swollen ankle.

“I fell out of a tree and landed awkwardly on my left foot.” Elenya explained while Arlo carried her over to the bed closer to the door. There he carefully set her down, helped her lift her feet up on the bed and then took a step to the side to make room.

Concerned, Dr. Xu sat down on a chair by her feet and set about opening her shoe. “What were you doing up there?” “I wanted to he…” She couldn’t finish her sentence. The doctor had begun to remove her shoe and a pained whimper escaped her. Instinctively, she tried to clench her fists against the pain, but before that could happen, callused hands slid carefully into her own and prevented her from reopening the barely closed cuts in her palms.

When did he take off his gloves?

Surprised, she looked to her left and found Arlo sympathetically looking down at her. The gesture distracted her so much that she didn't even notice how Dr. Xu was able to remove the shoe, and gratefully she smiled up at him.

“Now, let’s see what we’ve got here.” Dr. Xu began to prod at her ankle, moved it in different directions and asked her what hurt and what didn’t. And fuck, everything he did hurt and she was so glad that Arlo never let go of her hands. It gave her something to focus on beside the pain.

“Okay, the good news is, nothing seems to be broken. But I’m afraid it’s a bad sprain and you have to completely stay off of it for at least a week and another week without much strain. Now we'll ice the ankle first and then bandage it. In the meantime, we'll clean your little cuts and take care of your hands. Would you like something for the pain?” 

Elenya escaped a sigh after Dr. Xu's calm explanation. 2 weeks without proper movement sounded like hell to her. How would she be able to work like that? She couldn't even easely go to the commerce guild to pick up a commission!

A soft squeeze to her hands got her out of her head and she remembered the question she was given. “Yes, that would be great, thank you, Dr. Xu.” With a gentle smile, he disappeared for a moment and came back with an ice pack, bandages, things to clean her cuts and a small vial of medicine. He firstly placed the ice pack on her ankle and then turned to Arlo. “Here Arlo, can you help her drink that? I will take care of her hands in the meantime.” “Sure.” Arlo let go of her hands to take the offered vial and she immediately missed the soft contact. She didn’t have to miss it long, though, because his right hand slid behind her back to help her sit up. The vial was softly pressed to her lips and she gratefully drank the strange tasting medicine.

~~~~~~

30 minutes after entering the clinic, she was sitting sideways on the bed, her ankle thoroughly cooled and bandaged, every small cut cleaned and her hands wrapped. The pain medication also did its job and she was finally pain free. Arlo had stayed at her side the whole time, rubbing her back comfortingly and she was really grateful for his presence.

"Okay, I think you are sorted out. Here, I will give you some pain medication for the next few days and some crutches. You shouldn’t use them for the next two to three days, unless it is absolutely necessary, okay? Your hands need some time to heal, too.” “Okay…” A pleasant drowsiness had taken her over, making her eyelids heavy and she had some problems following the instructions.

What was in that medicine?

A fond chuckle to her left made Elenya look up to Arlo. She could feel the vibration of it in her side, his right arm wrapped around her shoulders being the only thing holding her upright at the moment. “I think I will take these for her. I’ll also make sure she remembers your instructions tomorrow.” With a last soft squeeze to her shoulder, he let go of her and took the offered medication and crutches from a soft smiling Dr. Xu.

Fortunately, neither of them saw her almost topple off the bed before she could just barely catch herself. God, she was so tired.

“Elenya?” A warm hand cupped her cheek and startled, she opened her eyes.

When had she closed them?

“I’m just going to sort a few things out and then I will take you home, okay? I need 5 minutes at the most.” “Oh, okay.” She let her eyes close again. Arlo withdrew his hand and soon only the faint sounds of Dr. Xu cleaning up the clinic for the night could be heard.

Elenya let her tired mind wander aimlessly, not fixating on anything until the door to the clinic opened again.

“So, one more thing and we are set to go. Can you lift your arms above your head for a moment?” “Huh?” Confused, she looked at Arlo, who was coming towards her with a grey bundle, but did what he asked her to do. Her world plunged into darkness for a moment before she was engulfed by warmth and a wonderful smell.

Bewildered, she inspected her now sweater clad hands.

Huh?

“It’s gotten real cold outside, so I brought you one of my sweaters. I don’t want you to get cold on top of everything.” Oh, so ‘Arlo’ was that pleasant smell. Happily, she snuggled herself more into the sweater and inhaled deeply.

“Thank you, Arlo.” She smiled up at him and the fond smile he gave her in return made a blush rise high on her cheeks. 

How could the normally stoic civil corps captain have such a sweet side? He was killing her here!

“You are welcome. How about we get you home now?” “That sounds great.” 

With a grateful smile, she turned one last time to Dr. Xu, who very pointendly was putting his things away, his back turned to them. “Thank you Dr. Xu, for patching me up at this late hour. I’m sorry I was keeping you.”

With a smile, the doctor turned around. “No need to thank me, that’s what I’m here for. Just try to stay out of trees for a while, okay?” “Will do!”

Elenya gave Arlo a nod and he lifted her into his arms again. She let her eyes close once more and leaned her head against his shoulder, her short bout of energy quickly leaving her again. With steady steps Arlo carried her out of the clinic, both not noticing the exasperated, albeit fond, look Dr. Xu gave their retreating backs.

Outside, Arlo managed to get her on Spacer again, on whom he had secured her crutches without them getting in the way. He quickly mounted up behind her, his arm securly wrapping around her waist. 

The way back to her workshop was slow going, taking them almost 15 minutes. She may even have dosed off for a moment, trusting Arlo to not let her fall off the horse. But once there, he carried her inside just as easily as before, carefully setting her down on her bed.

“Okay, let’s get you comfortable and then I leave you so you can rest, okay?” Before she could answer, he already left for the second room, bringing two pillows from the couch with him. These he placed at the end of the bed and carefully placed her injured foot on it. And while he was already at her feet, he also took off her remaining shoe, putting it beside the other one he somehow carried with him. Then he disappeared once more and returned with a full glass of water, placing it on her bedside table. There he also put down the vials of Dr. Xu's medicine, which he took out of his belt pouch.

“Oh, I almost forgot. Be right back.” Bewildered, Elenya could just watch Arlo scurrying around and before she knew it, she was tucked into her bed, Arlo’s sweater still warming her, her crutches and anything else she might need within reach.

He just wanted to walk away again, doing god knows what, when she snatched his wrist, ignoring the uncomfortable feeling in her hand. “Arlo.” She pulled lightly on his arm until he got her meaning and sat down on the edge of the bed. “What are you doing?” She raised an eyebrow questioningly.

With a sigh and a slight blush on his cheeks, he slumped over. Without looking at her, he confessed, “I don’t like to see you hurt, even if it’s just a twisted ankle. If making sure you are as comfortable as possible is the only thing I can do, I will do it.” The earnestly spoken words filled her heart with warmth. Maybe she wasn’t so screwed at all.

Clumsily she sat up, put her bandaged hand on his cheek and made sure he was looking at her. “Thank you, Arlo. I really appreciate what you have done today and every other day you were looking out for me. I always feel safe when you are around.” She pressed a soft kiss to his other cheek to emphasise her words. His blush deepened, clashing horribly with his red hair, but a happy smile spread across his face.

“I’m glad you think so.” He wanted to say more, but a deep yawn escaped her and his gaze softened. “But I think it’s time for you to sleep now. We can talk tomorrow, when you don’t fall asleep on me.” “Mmmh, okay.” Arlo helped her laying down, tucking the blanket up to her chin and started to card his fingers through her hair again. “I’ll make sure Emily brings you some breakfast tomorrow.”, were the last words she heard, followed by a soft kiss to her forehead and she fell asleep cocooned in warmth and safety.

She can be frustrated about her ankle on another day.

[fishfingersandjellybabies]

Lovestruck - fic

Characters: Tim Drake, Damian Wayne, Jason Todd, kinda Dick Pairings: future!jondami, implied-kinda?timkon, also timbernard Summary: Damian starts acting weird after Tim and Bernard begin dating. Turns out even this kid can be naive, and a total idiot, when he wants to be. A/N: idk a headcanon I couldn’t stop thinking about haha. Damian is absolutely one of those genius kids who don’t know the most basic things. Also if it’s not clear, Damian is comparing Tim’s answers to what he likes in people to if they match Conner. all ages are current canon so Tim is immortal and Damian is 14 mkay bye.

~~

When Tim started dating Bernard, he expected a lot of different things. He expected Bruce’s protectiveness, Dick’s softness, Jason’s gift of XL condoms, Cassandra’s date suggestions and even Stephanie’s own prepared shovel talks for his new paramour.

But he did not expect…well, this.

He did not expect to see Damian sitting on the front porch when Bernard brought him home from their third date. He did not expect Damian to start furiously writing in the notebook on his lap at the sight of them.

He did not expect to come down to breakfast and see the kitchen table scattered with notes and lists and images of way too pretty people, pictures of Bernard and Steph among them.

“…What are you doing?” Tim found himself asking sleepily.

“Research.” Damian replied simply, sipping thoughtfully from a mug on the island. “None of your concern.”

“Oh yeah?” Tim asked as he approached. Instantly he tapped the photos of Steph and Bernard. “So why are there pictures of my ex-girlfriend and current…boyfriend here?”

His stomach still did giddy jumps at the thought.

Damian’s lips twitched, like he’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Then he reached out and slid the photos underneath some papers. “Just…persons of interests.”

“For?”

“None of your concern.” Damian reiterated. Quickly, he began to shuffle all of his papers and pictures together. “Jeez, what does that Dowd boy even see in you…”

And then he was gone before Tim’s pre-caffeine mind could catch up.

After that, Damian was less obvious, but Tim could still catch on. In fact, everyone was catching on. But, like the emotionally constipated Bats they were, no one said anything, or tipped their youngest off.

They all just watched, as he suddenly began to distantly follow Tim around. Around the house, around the city, both as a civilian and in uniform. It was Cassandra who declared that Damian was watching who Tim was interacting with, not necessarily him.

He never followed him on his dates, though.

Then came the questions. Every time they were together. They’d go to lunch downtown near the office, and Damian would ask:

“Do you like that girl’s hair?”

“Would you ever wear those shoes?”

“How much do you respect a person if their suit jacket doesn’t fit them properly?”

When they’d be staking out a suspect on a building overlooking a street corner, he’d say:

“That belt is too gaudy.”

“You can tell he spent way too many hours in the mirror getting ready to go to that disgusting dive.”

“I can’t believe she’s walking on this street in those heels. Would you go for comfort or fashion?”

And it continued, the following, the seemingly random questions. After a while, Tim chalked it up to…maybe Damian was just getting to know him. Just trying to actually get along for once in their lives. They were both getting older, more mature. Maybe it was just time they started acting like what they were.

Brothers.

But then he came home one afternoon to find Dick standing in the manor’s foyer, back leaning against the wall that led into the central sitting room they all used. It was almost evening, which meant Damian was most likely in there sketching, or reading with his pets.

Dick noticed him open the door, and quickly put a finger to his smiling lips. Tim nodded and silently closed the door behind him, carefully took off his shoes and jacket, then tiptoed over to Dick.

He peeked around Dick’s shoulder. Sure enough, Damian was in there, but he was standing at the fireplace, staring down into the flames.

Jason sat in the loveseat behind him.

“Jay just got in there. He hasn’t said anything yet.” Dick breathed. Tim frowned skeptically. Surely Damian knew who was in the house. Knew there was something going on if Jason had just sought him out.

“What are we interrogating him for?” Tim whispered back. “Did he lose one of Alfred’s recipe books again?”

Dick just shook his head and pointed into the room. Tim looked back in.

Jason was relaxed in the chair, but staring intensely at his youngest brother. Damian must have known that, felt his eyes, because he wasn’t looking up. Kept his gaze glued to the fire at his feet.

Suddenly, Jason huffed, crossing his arms. “Spill.”

“Spill what.” Damian rolled his eyes.

“Spill why you’re stalking Tim.” Jason said bluntly. “Why you’re asking him all those dumbass questions.” A pause. “…Why you’re keeping tabs on his boyfriend.”

Tim inhaled sharply, glaring up at Dick. Dick waved both his arms quickly, implying that Jason’s words weren’t true, that it was just to catch Damian off guard.

“I’m not keeping tabs on him, Todd. That’s ridiculous.” Damian countered. “I’m merely making sure they’re still together.”

A moment to let the fire crackle.

“Well, I’m also making sure that boy isn’t hurting or manipulating Drake in some way.” Damian murmured softly. “But mostly, I’m just making sure they’re still together.”

Jason crossed his ankle over his knee. “Why?”

“What, I can’t be concerned for my brother’s safety and happiness?”

Jason snorted. “Not that brother’s.”

Damian glanced over his shoulder and narrowed his eyes. Then back to the fire.

Jason waited a minute, let his eyes dart across Damian’s back, study his posture. “…Why are you so concerned if Tim and his new boy-toy are still together?”

Damian shrugged silently.

“Don’t do that.” Jason scolded. “Use your words, Damian. Like a big boy.”

Damian let out a frustrated exhale. “I’m just…confirming Drake isn’t looking elsewhere.”

“What, to cheat on his boyfriend?” Jason drawled. “Timmy’s not the cheating type, I can tell.”

“No. No.” Damian said sternly. “That’s not what I’m saying.”

“Then what are you saying?”

“I’m saying!” Damian threw his arms out. Let them fall back to his thighs with a slight smack. “…I’m saying I’ve seen him look at others the way he looks at Bernard Dowd and that is…concerning. …To me.”

“Others?” Jason questioned. “What others?”

“Like Conner Kent!” Damian finally spun around now. Jason’s eyebrows rose in surprise and Damian rolled his eyes again. “Oh don’t tell me you don’t see it. Those two have been flirting with each other since the damn day they met. Drake dating this boy now only confirms the possibility of their eventual coupling.”

Jason let his face settle back into neutral, let the words bounce around in his brain. “Okay…I guess I can agree with that.”

Tim glanced up at Dick, who gave him a wink. Tim’s face instantly went beet red.

“But that still tells me nothing.” Jason continued. “So Tim and Conner maybe had or have crushes on each other. Maybe they’re attracted to each other. Maybe they’re forever star-crossed and nothing will ever happen. So what? Why does that bother you?”

Damian kept his lips pressed firmly together. After a moment, he spun back towards the fire.

“…Damian?”

“…Because it would be weird.” Damian said at last. “It would be weird if he and Conner…”

Damian’s voice fell to an unintelligible mumble.

“What?” Jason asked gently. “I didn’t catch that.”

Damian mumbled again, still impossible to understand.

“Kid, you’re gonna have to speak up, okay. I can’t hear you-”

“I said it would be weird if he was dating Conner while I was dating Jon!” Damian yelled, whirling around once more. “And if he breaks up with Dowd and starts dating Conner before I can gain the courage to talk to Jon then I’ll lose my chance!”

His last words echoed in the space around them. Floated into the hallway and echoed up the stairs, too.

Not that anyone noticed. Tim had grabbed Dick’s bicep, while Dick had thrown a hand over his own mouth in surprise.

“Oh my god.” Tim whispered. “Oh my god, oh my god.”

“That…” Dick murmured. “That’s the cutest fucking thing I’ve ever heard in my life.”

Jason, luckily, had more composure than the two of them, and suddenly Tim realized why it was Jason doing the prodding, not Dick.

Jason’s eyes had just widened, no other movement than that. He remained still, remained calm, even as Damian’s face darkened, and embarrassed tears appeared in the corners of his eyes.

“Oh.” He said simply. “Oh, Damian.”

“Shut up.” Damian crossed his arms again, but they all knew this time it was to hold himself. “Don’t…don’t make fun of me.”

“Never.” Jason promised. “But also, not a thing you need to worry about.”

“Why, because Jon will turn me down anyway?” Damian whispered bitterly, turning away. Not towards the fire this time, just the window.

“He’d be an idiot to, and I’ll beat the shit out of him if he does.” Jason said as he uncrossed his legs and leaned his elbows on his knees. “No, I mean, you don’t need to worry about it because it wouldn’t be weird if y’all just so happened to be double-dating.”

Damian waited, then glanced back at Jason. “It wouldn’t?” Jason smiled and shook his head. “There isn’t like…I mean…a law…?” He inhaled slowly. “If Drake and Conner started dating, wouldn’t that make Jonathan and I…related?”

“That’s only if they got married, and even then, wouldn’t be weird.” Jason shrugged. “What, you’ve never heard those stories of like…twins marrying another set of twins? That shit happens all the time. You wouldn’t be the first.”

Damian blinked owlishly, let his hands fall back to his sides. “…Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh.” Jason laughed, standing. “Besides, Tim seems to really like Blondie whats-his-name so…I really don’t think you have anything to worry about.” A second, to cheekily add: “At least…not right now.”

Damian twisted his lips. “I told you their chemistry was obvious.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, so is Bruce and Clark’s if you ask the tabloids and half the Justice League.” Jason droned, reaching out for Damian’s shoulder and tugging him into his side. “But like I said, don’t worry about it. Who cares about your idiot brother and who he’s dating, let’s focus more on you and how you’re gonna woo one Jonathan Kent, mmkay?”

He quickly ushered Damian out of the room using a door on the far side, only glancing back once to mouth oh my god! dramatically to the ones watching from the hall.

“That…” Tim exhaled as Jason closed the door behind them. “…was the most precious thing I think I’ve ever seen.”

Dick hummed in agreement, then: “…But is he right?”

Tim glanced up at him.

“You and Conner?”

Tim felt his face warm a little. “…I’m dating Bernard, Dick.”

“Okay.”

“And…I think I should go call him. We haven’t talked all day.”

Dick smirked. “Okay.”

“…Don’t look at me like that.”

Dick let out a chuckle. “Okay.”

“…Stop saying okay.”

“…Okay.”

“Dick!”

He laughed again. “Sorry, sorry.” He ran his fingers through Tim’s hair. “Tell Bernard I said hello, and also warn him that your younger brother is absolutely ready to gut him, should he hurt you.”

Oh yeah. Tim forgot that little tidbit. He felt his face warm even faster.

“Yeah…” He sighed, turning towards the stairs. He ignored the little flutter in his heart, at the idea of his lovesick, protective, ridiculous little brother. God, that kid. “Yeah, I think that’s probably something he oughta know.”

[bitch-biblioklept]

The Darkling x f!oc

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 <you are here> Part 7

Chapter-6: Amplifiers

Chapter Summary: Frustrated with Alina's lack of improvement, the Darkling finally found a way to use her powers for his thirst for revenge.

Word Count: 2.1k

(My gif)

The Darkling knew what he had to do, and went to the bitter old woman his mother had become to inform her of such. He still cared about her opinion, no matter how old he’d grown… even if it had bothered him a lot. She wouldn’t react, most likely.

“I have decided to give Alina an amplifier,” He declared once inside the heat of her hut by the lake. “Hopefully we will find the stag.”

Her head snapped in his direction at the mention of the stag. Her dark eyes looked livid. “Of course,” she muttered, half to herself. “I was a fool for thinking for a second that you’d let her have it.”

“The girl is naïve, she can’t control her powers.” He explained. “She will do better with that.”

“I’m not going to let you take control of her powers.” She said with the certainty of a decision. “I know what you are planning to do.”

“How would you?” The Darkling asked, his lips set in a sneer.

“I gave birth to you, boy.” Baghra said. “I know you better than you think I do. She wouldn’t have wanted this.”

“But she isn’t here to stop me now, is she?” Aleksander said. The lump in his throat was suddenly too much. The lakeshore was a bloodbath again. Baghra was silent for too long. “Well?”

“She isn’t,” His mother agreed slowly. “But the least you could do is honor her memory, her mannerisms.”

“She wasn’t a saint mother,” He reminded. “By all means she was the viler and crueler one of the two of us.”

“Not to someone who hadn’t wronged her,” Baghra added.

“I shall avenge her, whether you like it or not, mother.” The Darkling said. He still had a vague memory of the last time he had addressed her as such. Aleksander had been too distraught, everything had happened just so fast… there was no time to tell if it had been reality or a nightmare. Serephina had been assassinated, found lying with her throat slashed, there were others too, her attackers, only one of them was barely breathing by the time he had gotten there.

That was the first time he had used the Cut in the Little Palace grounds, the first time all the young Grisha realized why everyone was so afraid of him. It was the first time his mother looked terrified.

They were supposed to be happy, it was supposed to be a celebrations filled night. But like Serephina used to say in her Suli sayings, some had jinxed their joy. They were to be a family, they were to become parents.

But all of that had been taken away because he was the Darkling and she was Lady Kirigan, and not Aleksander and Serephina.

A light knock at the door brought him out of his thoughts.

Alina appeared in the doorway a second later, looking awkward on finding she interrupted their conversation. “Sorry,” she said.

“In girl, don’t let the heat out.” Baghra declared instead.

The Darkling bowed as a show of courtesy. “How are you Alina?” he asked to be polite.

“I’m fine,” Her voice sounded forced.

“She’s fine!” hooted Baghra. “She’s fine! She cannot light a hallway, but she’s fine.”

The Darkling had to resist the urge to roll his eyes at her words. “Leave her be,” he said instead.

The old woman narrowed her dark eyes at him. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” she decided.

He ran his fingers through his hair in an attempt to alleviate his frustrations. This was not going well. He turned to Alina. “Baghra has her own way of doing things.” He explained to stop himself from snapping at his mother at the moment.

“Don’t patronize me, boy!” she screamed at him. For a second, he was eighteen again, afraid of his mother’s wrath upon finding about his and Serephina’s marriage, and stood up straighter.

He stopped himself in time, remembering he wasn’t the same boy he had been then, not anymore. “Don’t chide me, old woman,” he said in a low, dangerous voice.

There was an intense stare down between the two of them, the tension so thick it could have been sensed even by a donkey. That was until Baghra turned to Alina and said, “The boy thinks to get you an amplifier. What do you think of that, girl?”

He watched as Alina’s face brightened with a smile as if she had heard the most brilliant idea. And for a second, a brief moment, she reminded him of Serephina again, with the curve of her smile and the way her eyes crinkled with joy.

“I think it’s brilliant!” She nearly squealed. And the similarity was gone. Alina was not Serephina, and the differences got more evident as he got to know her better. Serephina’s face had always had a cold mask, much like himself, but he knew how to read her, where to look for in those brown eyes to find the answers. She was a book meant to be read just by him, and him only. Alina’s face was an open book left for everyone to read.

Baghra let out a disgusted sound, and the sound inspired an odd sense of pride in him. Alina was right where he needed her to be.

“Alina, have you ever heard of Morozova’s herd?” he asked.

“Of course she has. She’s also heard of unicorns and the Shu Han dragons,” Baghra said mockingly. If this woman wasn’t his mother, he would have kicked her out by now, but alas.

The Darkling took Alina out of the hut instead, wanting to have one conversation where Baghra didn’t interrupt him at every utterance that came out of his mouth. Though he was aware that she was keeping an eye on everything he was going to do.

“That woman,” he muttered to himself, running his hands all over his face. Then he ran his hands through his hair again, but this time to get the embarrassing image of him hiding behind Serephina to be safe of the rage Juris had upon finding out about the wedding.

“What?” he asked; half-embarrassed by the humor on Alina’s face.

“I’ve just never seen you so … ruffled.” She said.

“Baghra has that effect on people.”

“Was she your teacher, too?”

She was. Of course she was, she was his mother. But she wasn’t just a mother or teacher, she had been through a lot with him, suffered as bad as he had. Perhaps she was the only person alive who would bother to understand Aleksander and not the Darkling. “Yes,” he said in its place. “So what do you know about Morozova’s herd?”

Again she talked about how she had heard children’s stories. Again he told her what he wanted her to, making a passing remark about forgetting how new she was to all this. He was keenly aware of the raven-like gaze Baghra kept on both of them, but he ignored it. Again he was nice to Alina, listening to her talk by the lakeshore when the image of the bloodbath resurfaced. He turned his thoughts to less painful things like how things would have been different had Serephina been here.

After a while, he had had enough and he left. He was desperate for a glass of kvas, or even better, a glass of strong whiskey. The memories wouldn’t just stop invading his head.

So he focused on the night he thought Serephina was going to die.

It was a cold night after a snowstorm, a village in central Ravka that had once been free of the abomination of creation that most people called the Shadow Fold or the Unsea. They had stopped by the village while they were on their way to Fjerda.

 There was a pack of large wolves tormenting the villagers, and they had warned them against going out at night. But Serephina had wanted to see them, the wolves. She said something was calling out to her, and that she needed to see the wolves.

And refusing to let her go out in the danger all alone, Aleksander had accompanied her. He was scared, of course. He had always been afraid of the dark but he never showed it, but she knew. He knew that she knew. That was why she had been holding his hand, warming the both of them up to keep them through the night.

It was a little past midnight when Sere had lost hopes of seeing the wolves and they were about to head back, when a deep growl sounded somewhere to their left.

A pair of bright red glowing eyes were fixated on them dangerously. She let go of his hand and shoved him behind herself and then reckoned the alpha wolf closer. Aleksander’s male ego would have been hurt if he weren’t so scared.

The wolf was one of the biggest animals he had ever seen, standing taller and either of them. For a moment he was certain the wolf was one of the Grisha of the old stories, the shape-shifters who couldn’t turn back into their human form after being in their animal form for too long during the first Ravkan war.

Before Aleksander could think of an escape route, Serephina had moved forward, studying the animal. Its dark black fur was blacker than anything he had ever seen, but it gleamed against the white snow under the moonlit canopy. The wolf and the girl regarded each other, assessing the danger.

The wolf leaped in the air with its jaw spread open to attack Serephina faster than he could say, “Stop!” She didn’t leave her ground and raised her hands, shoving them forward with all the force. The wolf fell to the ground as if hit by an invisible wall.

And when her flint sparked up from her sleeve, the cold blue flames scared the large animal. But it got up, shook the snow off its fur and got back into the battle.

Ice, air, fire all of the three elements helped Serephina in her conquest. She even used a bit of the heart rendering powers that she had mastered and paralyzed the wolf, after some of their blood had splattered on the snow, frozen like red pearls.

She walked to the laying wolf, limp in her step from where the wolf had bitten her leg, her hidden knife in hand and stabbed the wolf right where it heart would be. And strangely, the wolf looked proud when she did it, and then raised its paw and scratched it through her chest, right where her heart would be.

Aleksander’s soul left his body in that instant.

The soft glow of moonlight that came from Serephina showed her face, bloodied and contorted in pain, as both their blood flowed freely to the ground, freezing instantly on the snow. The wolf was the first one to close its eyes, the glowing red disappearing.

She fell on the snow next, her breath escaping with a sigh.

He rushed to her side, almost blinded by the brightness of the light she radiated, and cradled her head in his arms, regretting not staying back at their little cave, not being able to convince her to stay, not being able to protect her because of his own fears.

Then her eyes opened, and her thin lips moved, muttering his name. Her eyes glowed bright red, like the wolf’s but the voice was hers, for no one else could ever speak in that musical voice that made him want to drop everything and just listen to her talk all day.

“Sere…” he softly said, tucking her black hair behind her ear.

“I’m fine,” she insisted, and then stood up. Her hair was a mess, her eyes looked tired, but they were back to their brown, and her clothes were ragged, covered in her own blood and the wolf’s, but to him she had never looked more beautiful.

“But the wolf-” he started.

“The wolf is one with me now,” She calmly explained. Her eyes changed to the bright red once again. “I am the wolf and the wolf is me.”

“Like the amplifiers,” he realized.

She smiled. “Let’s go. I’m starving.”

“I hope you don’t eat Grisha for meals now,” He joked.

“I might eat someone if he gets too annoying,” she winked at him and walked away. Aleksander was frozen in his place.

The wolf was old, she knew everything. Serephina had always had an answer to his problems. Things would have been so much better had her and their child were with him right now. He would have been so much happier and maybe they would have been done with the fold by now.

But fate always had other ideas.

[goodgirlofglory]

That which lingered on his mind /Chapter 6

Chapter 5 - Epilogue

Pairing: Dark!Steve Rogers x reader(series), Steve Rogers x reader

Word count: 4,1k

Warnings: 18+, non-con(series), dub-con(series), Explicit sexual content, Explicit language, smut, oral (f/m receiving), angst, fluff

Chapter summary: You and Steve reunite after three months of silence to find each longing just as much for the other. Much needed closure takes place, and you find comfort in each other’s arms...

Author’s note: This chapter is just a huge ball of fluff (and some smut). I can’t seem to let go of the feeling that Steve and Y/N belong together, and neither can they lol. There will be one more part to this series, and possibly an epilogue. Thank you so much to those who have followed the series, and to those of you who are new. I love you guys for all the love and feedback you give, it makes my heart melt<3 The end of this chapter is consciously and heavily inspired by this fic by @wkemeup. Both this and the first part is an absolutely amazing and exhilarating read which I continuously return to, so I heartily recommend you go check it out! Your media consumption is your own responsibility, but I advise you to not engage if any of the content in the warnings are troubling to you. My work is not beta-read, so all mistakes are my own. My work is not the be distributed outside this blog. Reblogs, likes and replies are very welcome!! Hope you enjoy<33

 You had stared so much at the slip of paper on the fridge, you’d practically memorized the digits by now. 

Three months had gone by since you left the Avengers compound, the steady rhythm of your day-to-day making it seem almost like a dream by now. 

A moving truck had come and packed Steve’s apartment up and out during the first week, and you’d been embarrassed by the way you’d spied on them through the peephole in your door. 

Fury and Natasha had swore on S.H.I.E.L.D’s behalf to not contact you further unless there was any sign of danger, and there had been complete radio silence on their part since then. 

You now had no idea where Steve Rogers was in the world, or how he was. You actually missed him...like a lot. 

You stood in your kitchen, mindlessly flipping through a magazine on a wednesday afternoon when your eyes kept  returning to the slip of paper on the fridge. You’d considered contacting him before. Every day for the last three months, in fact. But you’d always shook the thought from your head. Surely it wouldn’t be good for him to open up those wounds again.. 

No, you should let him move on...even if you couldn’t.

But that night the thought was completely unshakeable, restless adrenaline fueling your body as the slip of paper called out to you. 

With a huff, you closed the magazine, stalked up to the fridge and ripped the paper off. 

Just burn it, get rid of it, make it impossible to contact him so that you have no choice but to move on. 

That was the rational thought, the one you should’ve headed.

But instead, you found yourself flinging your phone out and with shaky fingers tapping the digits into it before pressing the green phone icon with a decisive thumb. 

Your elevated heartbeat thumped through your body as you held the phone to your ear, actually sweating. 

Two buzzing tones droned on by, each filling you with instant regret, before the third was abruptly cut off.

“Rogers speaking.”

Your breath caught in your throat. There he was.

“Hello? Who is this?” he pressed.

“Eh..hi Steve,” you stuttered out awkwardly. 

You held your breath as the silence from the other end droned on. 

“Y/N?”

“Yeah, um...hi,”

“Hi,” he answered, sounding incredulous.  

“Hi,” you said, distracted by his voice, even as distorted as it was through the phone. 

A moment passed with complete silence before you snapped back to yourself.

“Um, I...Natasha gave me your number, if you’re wondering,” you blurted out.

“Y-yeah, I suppose I should be wondering about that,” he answered, “H-How are you? Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, yeah, everythings fine,” you rushed out. For a moment, a panicked voice in the back of your head yelled how dumb you looked. Steve clearly thought you were calling because of some trouble with S.H.I.E.L.D or Hydra. It’d been three months, he was probably not thinking about you anymore.

“I’ve been thinking about you,” you heard him say from the other end of the line.

Oh

“I mean, I’ve been hoping you were okay, you know, doing well,” he quickly corrected himself. 

“I’ve been thinking about you too,” you whispered. 

“Sorry, what was that? This phone is kinda old...I think, so it’s difficult to hear you.”

“Yeah, uh, Steve...I was wondering if you’d..maybe, possibly, if you have time...like to talk. With me. Face to face, that is,” you stammered out in such a way, embarrassment burned on your cheeks by the time you were done.

“I’d really like that,” he answered, and you thought you might hear a smile in his tone.

“Great,” you breathed, relief washing over you, excitement setting in its wake. 

§

You were sweating bullets as you looked out over the lake in Central Park, the spring sun warm on your skin as you waited. 

You were thirty minutes early, not being able to sit still back at home. 

You noticed him the moment he appeared over Cherry Hill, your breath picking up as he got nearer. 

He was dressed in a pale blue button up and the brown leather jacket you knew so well from the hallway. He was clean shaven and his hair was cut short. He looked like the Steve who’d lived next door to you for so many years. 

He stopped a few feet away.

You looked at each other in silence, and there was this sweet ache spreading throughout your heart as you looked into his shining, blue eyes. 

“Thank you for meeting me,” he said sincerely after a moment. 

“Yeah, well I was the one who called you,” you said sheepishly.

“True...Natasha, huh?” he said, and now there was amusement in his voice. 

“Natasha,” you repeated. 

God, you wanted to reach out and touch him, you’re body buzzing with energy from having him this close. It was magnetic.

“Do you wanna walk?” you said instead, hoping you were masking your shivering form well enough. 

“Sure thing,” he said, and you fell into step along the lake, missing the way his eyes lingered on you. 

You talked about small stuff for a while, falling into such a comfortable pace you were soon giggling and joking, watching intently as Steve threw his head back in a hearty laugh at one point. 

It all just felt so right, so tranquil as the sun set on the park, the time having flown by.

“Oh damn,” you said, looking down at your watch, “I’ve gotta go.”

“Can I walk you home? For once I could say knowing where my date lived wouldn’t be creepy,” Steve answered, his cheeks turning a bright flush of pink when he understood what he’d said. 

You averted your eyes, way too exhilarated by his words to keep eye contact.

“I didn’t mean...That just slipped out, I know that’s not why you asked me to meet you,” he continued, awkwardly scratching his neck, the air between you suddenly thick. 

“Honestly, I don’t know why I called you,” you said, stopping dead in your tracks and looking at him. The park was nearly empty around you, varm street lights blinking to life. 

This is it, you thought as he looked into your eyes with mild confusion, blue eyes intense. 

“I just knew that I couldn’t stop thinking about you,” you admitted nervously while looking down at your shoes. You could feel the words slipping out of you, but you couldn’t stop the ramble coming on. “It’s like I can’t handle myself. I probably shouldn’t be this drawn to you, considering the things that happened, but I am. For I don’t see those things anymore. All I see is you...and you’re…”

You trailed off as your eyes met his, his face contorted in an expression you couldn’t quite decipher. 

He stepped closer to you, and you swallowed hard, your throat dry all of a sudden. Your body surged with the need to touch him.

He stood mere inches away from you now, looking down at you with such intensity, you shivered.

“I can’t stop thinking about you, either,” he whispered. His hand came up to cup your cheek, but he stopped himself a few centimeters away, hesitating. 

Reaching your limit, you leaned into his touch. The warmth of his hand felt like a balm on your skin, making you sigh in instant content. 

“I need you to tell me this is alright,” he said, and you heard the tremor in his voice, the way his breath was uneven, his body rigid. 

“This is alright,” you whispered.

“I need you to say stop the moment I overstep,” he said, urgency in his tone.

“You won’t,” you answered.

“Just tell me you’ll say stop,” he interrupted, almost desperate as his grip on your cheek became more strained. 

You understood consent was just as important to him in that moment, if not more.

“I will,” you said with a nod.

He let out a small sigh of relief, his eyelashes fluttering for a tiny second.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked then, and you thought your heart would fly out of your chest.

“Yes,” you whispered desperately.

He surged forward, but pressed his lips to yours softly, tentatively, sweet and gentle. 

Your body seemed to implode, sparks jolting through every nerve. 

His hand reached back to hold your neck, the other arms wrapping around your waist to press your body firmly to his. Your hands wringed the leather of his jacket as they went around to cling to his back. You stood flush against each other, and still you needed him closer. 

The kiss grew more hungry and Steve seemed almost starved as his mouth devoured yours. You broke the kiss once you both were out of breath, and Steve leaned his forehead to yours. 

“Walk me back to mine?” you asked hopefully.

He nodded enthusiastically, before drawing you in for another searing kiss. 

§

Back at your apartment, he hesitated slightly at your doorstep, and you remembered suddenly that he had never been inside except when under Hydra’s control.

You squeezed his hand and he followed you inside.

You removed your coat while he took off his jacket, and though there had been a tense moment, you soon found yourself kissing him slow and tenderly as you stood in your living room. 

His thumb stroked your jaw softly when you broke the kiss, still in each other's arms. 

“Do you remember that time I lent you a penny, down in the laundry room?” he asked, eyes trailed to where his thumb was caressing your face. 

You couldn’t help a tiny laughter. 

“Yeah, when you’d been so lucky as to hear me imitate a dying trumpet before you came in, I believe,” you answered. 

Now it was his time to laugh, and it felt so unbelievably good to feel it vibrate from his chest and through your body. 

“A rather cute, dying trumpet, I remember thinking,” he added. You barked out a giggle.

He was swaying you softly now, dancing to music only the two of you could hear. 

“Did you know that’s one of my favorite songs?” he asked then, sounding genuinely curious. 

You waited a bit before answering, contemplating how honest you should be. 

“Where do you think I knew it from? You only blasted it through the walls about a hundred times a week,” you teased, earning a tickle from his hand at your waist. 

You squirmed in his arms, and you both laughed heartily. 

Then his expression grew more sincere, and you almost lost your breath as his deep, blue eyes looked into yours with such raw and honest emotion. 

“I used to think about someone very special when listening to that song -” he admitted, and you felt a small tug of jealousy in your chest “- but ever since that very...memorable performance - “ now it was your turn to tickle him, both of you giggling as he squirmed slightly. He grew serious again, holding you tightly to him - “whenever I heard that song, all I could think about was you.”

“Is that why I never heard you playing it again?” you teased, not being able to help yourself. 

He gave an exaggerated sigh, and you loved how flustered he became. 

“I think I played it more often after that, actually,” he said before bending down slowly to kiss the corner of your mouth. 

A lump was forming in your throat, his words unleashing joy you hadn’t felt in such a long time. 

“If it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t be out of Hydra’s control,” he said, the gravity of his words enforced by the intense look of gratitude in his eyes. 

“I’m sure they would have saved you somehow, Steve,” you said. 

“Yeah, maybe. But there’s no denying how special you are,” he answered, his voice barely above a whisper. “Especially to me,” he added after a moment. 

You’d stopped swaying, now staring into each other’s eyes as the silence engulfed you. You could hear your blood pumping in your ears. 

“And I don’t even, really know you,” he said, astonishment in his tone. 

You know parts of me really well, you thought to yourself. You didn’t say it out loud though. One day you would probably be able to laugh at all this, but not now. Now you needed time to heal.

“We have time for that now,” you answered him reassuringly, your hand coming up to stroke lovingly about his cheek. 

He leaned into your touch with a hum.

“As long as you’ll have me,” he murmured, eyes on yours as he kissed the inside of your palm. 

You pulled him in for a kiss as your answer, the meeting of your lips so tender and affectionate, it said a thousand words. 

You soon pulled him into your bedroom, a trail of clothes left behind as you slowly and carefully explored each other with your hands and mouths, falling onto the bed with a giggle.

His body was the same, glorious, but there was a gentleness to him now that you had scarcely seen before, a new Steve you relished. 

He undressed you slowly, worshipping every new patch of skin that revealed itself with his lips and tongue, and you were heaving for breath shortly enough, arousal burning hot in the pit of your stomach. 

He let you wrap your hands around his rock hard length when you were both naked. It felt so exhilarating to have him back in your grasp. You started to slowly drag your hand up and down, eliciting quiet grunts from him. 

He pushed you gently down on your back and dragged you to the edge of the bed. He positioned himself on his knees on the floor and gave you an inquiring look, silently asking for permission.

You nodded, biting your lip as your fingers glided through his hair, desperate for his mouth. 

After that he ascended on your pussy, devouring you with renewed passion, like he was savouring every detail.

You threw your head back against the mattress, your moans urging him on. 

His fingers entered you slowly, the glide made smooth by your slick.

“God, you’re soaked,” he panted against your mound, breath tickling your clit. 

“It’s all for you,” you moaned out, eyes falling shut as he curled his fingers against that sweet, spongy spot inside you, so soft, so gentle. His tongue returned to your clit with a groan. He worked you over the edge with deft expertise, and groaned long and hard when your thighs squeezed around his head as you came, seeing stars. 

He gave your thighs an affectionate squeeze before crawling over you. 

You eagerly welcomed his tongue as it swept into your mouth, your own, tangy taste catching on your tastebuds.

He let you roll him over so you were straddling him before you started to explore his body with hands and mouth. You had waited so long to finally be able to worship him, dipping your tongue along every dip and pan of smooth skin and rippling muscles as you slowly crept down. 

His cock jumped when your lips ghosted over the leaking, purple head, bobbing against his stomach. You were about to take him into your mouth when his hands lifted your face up to look at him.

“You don’t have to,” he started, but you saw how blown his eyes were, how his eyebrows were knitted in anticipation. 

You playfully swatted his hands away before smiling. 

“I want to,” you said, and he nodded eagerly, watching intently as you took him in your hand before enclosing the bulbous head into your hot and wet mouth, holding his gaze as you sucked. 

His whole body jolted with an almost startled moan. 

God, he sounded so good

 The tingling in your lower abdomen grew anew as you steadily worked him into your mouth, your tongue swiping along the veins of the underside before lapping at the salty precum adorning the head. 

His fists clenched the sheets on either side of his body as you bobbed your head faster and faster, his groans growing louder as he lost himself in the pleasure. He could have finished right then and there and you wouldn’t have minded one bit. You felt privileged to witness such a magnificent sight. 

He stopped you by gripping your hair and tugging it lightly, your mouth leaving his cock with a wet pop.

“Holy Jesus, Y/N, I’m going to come if you keep doing that,” he panted in a husky breath, sounding completely fucked out as you crawled up his body, kissing his clavicle as you straddled his hips. You hummed in response as you kissed him. His hands held your face in a tight grip as his mouth devoured yours, possessive and intense in his passion. You melted against his chest, submitting entirely to him in your blizz. 

He broke the kiss to pant in your mouth. “I wanna be inside you so bad.”

You moaned at his words, having dreamt about them for so long. 

Reaching between your bodies, you gripped his cock and lined it with your entrance, a thrill surging through you when the head entered you. 

Gazing into his eyes, hooded and dark, you slowly sank down on him, feeling him throb inside you inch by inch. He grunted as he bottomed out, the sound loud and obscene as it sent vibrations through you. He didn’t seem to know what to do, panting hard, swearing under his breath as you shifted. 

You gave him a quick kiss, dragging his bottom lip between your teeth as you sat up. 

“I got you,” you whispered as you started rocking back and forth, deep drags of his cock inside you flooding your system with sparks of pleasure. 

He seemed to get his wits about him soon enough. His hands found your hips, helping you move faster, his gaze locking on your face with a focused look. His eyes, strong and intent, sent hot shivers all the way down to your toes and you bucked your hips harder, earning grumbling moans from him. 

You could feel the coil deep in your lower belly tightening, your hips faltering in their rhythm as pleasure clouded your mind. Steve took it as a cue and started thrusting up into you, hitting that spot within you dead on. 

You yelped and he halted. 

“Are you okay?” he asked through his pants. 

He was so sweet it was almost infuriating

You bent forward and caught his lips in a fierce kiss. 

“Yeah. Please, Steve, don’t stop,” you almost whimpered against his lips, hands tugging on his hair as desperation grew. 

He moaned sweetly into your mouth and started thrusting again, harder and faster. You whined as the coil tightened further, bringing you back to the edge. 

He groaned your name into your mouth before moving his head into the crook of your neck. Your stomach flipped as you recognised the move, your head swimming with memories. You clenched around his cock. 

His arms locked around you as he pounded into you with abandon now, his mouth attached to the juncture between your neck and shoulder. 

Your hands were clinging onto his hair for dear life, loving the way he moved within you, the way he clung to you as he fucked into you, massive arms locked around your torso. 

Your orgasm hit you like a tidal wave, seizing you as the coil in your stomach snapped. Steve held you so tight the breath left your lungs as he kept fucking into you, prolonging your climax to the point where you could only gasp at the overstimulation. 

His mouth found yours, and you whined into his mouth as he kept up his pace. 

His eyes were deep pools of pleasure and affection, shining with complete lust. His cheeks were flushed, his eyebrows knitted and his plump lips slightly parted and shining with saliva. He was breathtaking. 

“Steve,” you moaned lowly into his mouth and then his hips faltered, stuttering as his body went rigid beneath you, spilling inside you. 

You held him through his orgasm, kissing his open mouth as he gasped for air. 

He held you close to him as he came down from his high, stroking your cheekbone with his thumb as he regained his breath. He was so fucking gorgeous you couldn’t believe it. 

You rolled over to the side, Steve’s cock slipping from inside you. 

You lay tucked into his embrace, fingers running through the light patch of hair on his chest as you hummed with content. Steve’s eyes moved slowly over your face.

“I keep thinking I went about this all wrong,” he muttered. You stiffened, a small sting of panic in your chest. He registered your reaction and quickly brought your chin up with a hand. “I mean in the order we did...this.” 

You softened a bit, but still didn’t quite catch his meaning.

“First of all, I should have been the one asking you out. And it should have been a real date,” he said, and you finally understood what he was saying. 

“Yeah? What would that have been?” you asked, curious now. He was such an old sap. 

“Firstly, I would bring flowers and pick you up at your door,” he said, the hand under his chin coming up to stroke your cheek softly with the knuckles. 

“Then, I would take you to the most romantic restaurant in town, You know, one with candlelight -” 

His fingers stroked down your neck, tickling wonderfully over your skin. 

“- a live band maybe-”

His fingers kept their exploration down your arm, leaving goosebumps in their wake. You could barely keep your breath in check as his eyes burned lovingly into yours.

“-and a view that could only be surpassed by you, sipping on a glass of wine across the table, looking more beautiful than lady liberty herself,” he finished, entwining his fingers with yours. 

You were embarrassingly hot and out of breath.

“And then what?” you panted softly. 

“Then, I’d walk you home in the moonlight, and if the night was successful, and you looked at me with those eyes as we reached your door,” he said, pointing a look at you, making you blush harder, “then I’d kiss your hand, like a gentleman, and ask when I could see you next,” he said, bringing your hand up to lay a light kiss to it. 

You almost swooned at that. 

Maybe being an old sap wasn’t so bad.

“Well, we did walk home while it was dark,” you tried, earning a chuckle from the blond. 

“I keep thinking it’s kind of a shame you moved out of the building,” you continued, releasing his hand before booping his nose with your finger. 

He groaned and ran a hand over his face. “Yeah, you’re right.”

“Where did you move, by the way?” you asked.

“I finally got a place in Brooklyn, actually,” he said with enthusiasm. “I remember getting beat up in the alley behind the building, so it’s familiar.” He paused as he looked at you. “Don’t know if it feels like home, though,” he said, his eyes studying your face in a way that had you burning under his gaze. 

“Maybe I could visit,” you said, trying to distract him from noticing how much his words affected you.

“Yeah, I could make you boiled potatoes with boiled ham, per the only recipes I can remember from back in the day,” he said playfully, and you laughed way too hard at that. 

“As long as I can be near you,” you said fondly, tracing his clavicle with a finger. 

“It’s too bad you can’t call me neighbor anymore,” he mused.

You bit the inside of your cheek.

“But I’ll always be your penny-wash-girl,” you said, smirking as his brows knitted in confused recognition at the familiar nickname.

“Natasha,” you explained, shrugging.

He snorted, but now he was the one blushing.

“Natasha, huh?” he asked, and you saw how he tried to conceal his amusement. “I suppose I should be a bit displeased by her meddling in my private life, but…”

“But?” you pressed softly.

“But not this time,” he said and smiled at you.

That was it. This was becoming too much of a fairytale ending. 

You slapped his chest lightly and sprung from the bed.

“Come on, superboy, let me show you something better than boiled ham,” you called as you strutted out of the room, nude as the day you were born.

“Don't know if you can show me anything better than the view I've got now,” he called after you, and your giggle rang through the hall.

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[buckyswintersoldiermask]

ι’ll love yoυ ғorever; нello

Bucky Barnes x powered reader, platonic Shuri x reader

Summary: Bucky comes out of cryo and Bucky and the reader spend their first together.

Bucky Masterlist ~ Main Masterlist ~ Series Masterlist

Word Count: 1287

Warnings: just fluff?

A/N: I wrote “goodbye” and felt like there should be something after it so here’s “Hello.” I wanted to give the reader powers in the first part but didn’t know how to fit in so I just put it in the second part. (I’m not too confident about the backstory and how it’s executed). !!constructive criticism is always welcome!!

After a few long months, Shuri did it. She got all of HYDRA’s brainwashing out of Bucky. Shuri healed him with the traditional stuff that was learned from their ancestors, along with some tech with his mind. He was finally free. He could finally move on from his past.

“(Y/N), are you ready to see Sergeant Barnes?” Shuri asked, leading you to the medical ward.

“You know I am.”

Since you stayed in Wakanda after Bucky went back into cryostasis you had a lot of time to get close to Shuri. You tried to help her in the lab as much as you could and just be a good friend. You also had a lot of time to learn new things about your powers.

You made it to the medical ward where Bucky was kept. Doctors all around his capsule awaiting instructions. Shuri goes over to Bucky looking at his panel which shows his vital signs and has the button to take him out of cryostasis. “(Y/N/N)? Want to do the honors?”

Stunned, she asked you, you walk over next to her and she guides your hand to the button. “Whenever you’re ready.”

You take a deep breath, your hand slightly shaking because of the adrenaline. You get to see Bucky again. Not just check up on him from the outside of the capsule. You get to hug him, kiss him, cherish him.

You didn’t know you were crying until you felt a teardrop fall on your hand. You look back at Shuri smiling, in a split-second decision you press the button and wipe your eyes.

At an instant, the tube began to defrost causing your throat to leap. Shuri pushes you closer to it so you can be the first thing Bucky sees when he wakes up.

It finally opened all the way and Bucky’s eyes immediately found you. “Hi there.” You say voice cracking, tearing up a little.

“Hi, Doll.”

You missed him, you missed the way he called you, you missed his pet names for you. You missed his sarcastic comments, you missed feeling him in your arms. You missed him so much.

The doctors unstrap Bucky and he gets out pulling you into his arms. You melt into his touch as he cradles your head in his hand. “I’m here. I’m back.”

You let out a sob you were holding back. The room cleared as Bucky led you to some chairs, helping you to sit down.

You and Bucky spent time catching up. He wanted to hear all you did while he was on ice. You told him how you and Shuri became closer. You told him about how you were learning more about your powers. You told him about the beautiful Wakandan hut you were staying in that will become both of yours.

“It’s away from central Wakanda. It’s very peaceful and calm. I think you’ll like it.” He smiles kissing your hand.

“I’m sure I will.”

Shuri comes over with a huge stack of books and drops them on the table next to you. “Self - help books.”

Bringing your attention back to Bucky his eyes are wide at the number of books she brought. “I can read some of them to you.” Bucky nods directing his attention back to you.

After you spent some time catching up, Shuri had to check Bucky. Everything looked well and he was free to go. Bucky decided not to get his metal arm reattached. There was no danger, no one to fight so he didn’t want it just yet.

You lead him to your tent carrying the books Shuri prescribed. “So this is it.”

Bucky goes in and looks around, seeing all your drawings and the artwork you’ve done since he’s been gone. Paints, pencils, paper, brushes, practically any art materials Wakanda had, all over your desk.

“I’m glad you’re still a good artist.” He teased, smirking at you.

“Well, I did have to do something to pass the time.”

Putting down the books on the bed, you and Bucky see his dog tags there. You grabbed them smiling at Bucky. “Shuri gave them to me while you were on the ice. Here you go.”

Bucky shakes his head, “I told her to give them to you, you can keep them.”

“Really?” Bucky nods, cupping your face in his hand.

You smile putting them around your neck. “They look better on you anyway.” He flirts.

You and Bucky stare into each other’s eyes just taking the moment in. Bucky takes his hand pulling you closer to him, his eyes glancing from your eyes to your lips. You lean forward placing your lips on his. The kiss was anything but innocent, it was violent and hungry, and left you breathless. You were making up for the lost time. Taking in every moment of that kiss. Being away from Bucky wrecked you. You fell hard for James Buchanan Barnes. He’s your home. Bucky pulls away so you can both catch your breath.

“You really missed me huh, doll?” You nod resting your head on his chest wrapping your arms around him. “Of course I did.”

“I won't ever leave you like that again.”

You sat there in silence until you pulled away, “Let’s get you settled, okay?” You put the books down in a neat row on your desk, cleared some space around the room so your things aren’t all over the room. Bucky snoops around on your desk and finds a journal, curious about what it is, he scans the pages.

“You’ve been practicing new things with your powers?” He questions looking back at you. You grab your journal out of his hand. “Maybe.”

“Can you show me?”

“I guess just this once, you’ve always been my biggest fan.” You smile as you turn the bed and the desk invisible with a single touch. “I can also stay invisible for a lot longer now.”

For as long as you can remember you had invisibility powers. When your father was young he had experiments done on him, so his mutated genes were passed on to you. Your father liked to tell you that you were chosen to have powers to do a greater good.

You hid your powers for years until your mother’s life was threatened. That put you on the map. Next thing you know Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson, and Natasha Romanoff are knocking on your door asking you to become an Avenger. You accepted feeling that this is what your father wanted you to do, use your powers for a greater cause.

“Wow, doll. You’re incredible I remember when we first met-” You cover Bucky's mouth with your hand before he could continue . “No, No not that cursed time. That was so embarrassing.”

After you joined the Avengers you helped Steve find Bucky, you used your powers to the best of your ability. You needed a lot more training and work. You hadn’t used your powers in years so you were very rusty. Your first encounter with Bucky was one to remember.

Bucky gets out of your grip laughing so hard he has to sit down. “You bumped into me while helping Steve find me and you got so nervous that half of your body became invisible.”

“In my defense, I was very untrained,” you say with your hands on your hips. “I know, doll. You were so cute though.”

“You just came back and you’re already bringing up embarrassing stories about me.” you groan facing the door.

“Someone’s gotta do it, and that someone is me.”

You roll your eyes and take a look outside, the sun is getting ready to set, “Want to watch a Wakandian sunset?”

“With you? Anyday.”

A/N: Thank you so much for reading, likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated :) ~ Mak

[astarryon]

Promise Me

Red is a Wondrous Color

Warnings: Gentle jealousy

Chapter Summary: Spencer knew he started wearing scarves for a reason.

Masterlist

Chapter One: You’ll Always Have Me

It isn’t often that Spencer is left feeling powerless.

It happens on occasion. As unfortunate as it is, it’s a hazard of the job and comes with the territory, and, more out of necessity than anything else, Spencer has gotten very good at recognizing that there will always be those certain situations that he can’t control. His genetic predisposition to schizophrenia, always dancing at the back of his mind, the possibility of what awaits him in the future a constant taunt he’s never quite been able to ease. That nasty drug habit he’d picked up all those years ago, one he hasn’t acted on since finally getting clean but that his nerves always ache to feed when he gets just a little too stressed to cope. Those particularly difficult cases where the unsub turns out to be little more than a kid and he can’t seem to find the right words to get everyone out of a hostile situation safely, the results of which usually manifest in someone who the world didn’t try hard enough for dying right in front of his eyes.

But just because it doesn’t happen often doesn’t mean it never happens, and as Spencer wraps his scarf around his throat before exiting Quantico into the abnormally wintry air, his eyes fall upon your form standing in the distance, and — not for the first time where you’re concerned, though recalling how many times it’s actually happened is just a little too embarrassing to stomach for the night — he stops dead in his tracks in awe.

Red is Spencer’s favorite color on you. It’s taken some time for him to figure that out. Flashy as it is, you never have the chance to wear much of it in the field, which is a loss he takes the time to mourn whenever he recalls the team’s last Christmas party at Rossi’s, when you’d been clad in a dress of silk and crimson and insisted he sway along to Billie Holiday with you in the living room despite his meek protests. Something about that dress brought out the rose blush in your cheeks, set your eyes off with mischief and delight, made the fringe of your lashes appear that much darker. It also made his mind wander with thoughts he’s still not entirely sure he’s allowed to have, so he’d gazed at you as respectfully as he could and tried not to focus too much on the feel of your breath against his neck.

It’s a wondrous color, red. An enchanting color.

And you’re wearing it now as you stand with your arms crossed over your chest to serve as protection from the cold, though he’s not really sure how much that’ll help with the expanse of your legs, moonlit and glittering, bared to the wind. You’re also bawling your eyes out, and it’s noticing this that finally stops Spencer standing there like an idiot with his mouth hanging open and starts his feet carrying him toward you at a pace that would make Morgan proud.

“Are you okay?” Spencer asks, and he immediately has to squash the urge to kick himself. You’re standing here, alone in the cold, dressed like that and openly sobbing. It doesn’t take a profiler to see that nothing is okay for you right now.

Your eyes widen at the sound of his voice, and he might take the time to marvel at how cute you look when startled if he wasn’t otherwise preoccupied with concern for your well-being. “Oh,” you breathe, hands instantly reaching up to swat at the tears trailing messily down your face. It won’t do you any good, not with the black streaks of mascara staining your skin, but Spencer knows enough not to point that out. “H-Hey, Spence. I thought you’d have gone home by now.”

“Yeah, I was supposed to,” he responds, trying for a kind, reassuring smile and remaining unsure of whether it actually appears. Try as he might, he can’t bring himself to care. He doesn’t want to pretend not to notice your pain, even though he knows you probably rather he do. What he does want is... something he doesn’t think he can have. “I got a little caught up going over my closing report. What about you? You left a couple hours ago, didn’t you?”

“I did,” you sniff, and Spencer is suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to reach up and wipe the rest of the tears from your face himself. “Um... I had a date, actually.”

“Oh,” he says, making a concentrated effort to keep his voice light. “And you... came back to the office?”

A bitter laugh escapes your lips, though it comes out more as a garbled choke. “Yeah, I guess it didn’t go so well. I was going to go home, but at some point I turned around and kind of just... ended up here.” You shrug, your eyes falling to the ground, and Spencer follows your gaze down to your red toenails, gleaming in the lamp light and contrasting starkly against the black of your strappy heels. “I just didn’t think I could handle being alone right now. So.”

It’s difficult not to make assumptions in that moment, and though he tries, he feels his chest swell with an inappropriate surge of protectiveness. Again, it doesn’t take a profiler to read the implications of this situation, or to know that something has to have gone terribly wrong in the three hours since he’s last seen you. He can’t do much about the crying — he’s never been good with tears, no matter who they’re coming from — but his mind tumbles violently with the possibilities of what all could have gone wrong on your date, and his limbs itch to track down whoever’s responsible for getting you to this point of emotional distress and... and... telling them off with some strong vocabulary at the very least.

But there’s no use in that. He can’t change what’s already happened, and he doubts you’d let him go and yell at whoever’s done this to you. Anyway, you’re standing here in front of him, wide eyed and shivering. He might not be able to do much about the crying — he might not even be able to do anything about the reason for your crying. But... maybe there’s a chance he can soothe the pain, at least a little.

“What about you?”

Your voice startles him out of his reverie, bringing him back to full consciousness of the situation at hand, and he’s embarrassed that he’s gotten so caught up in thoughts of defending you that he actually has no idea what you’re asking him. “Me?”

You nod, a wobbly smile edging at the corners of your ruby red lips. So much red. It really does suit you wonderfully. “Yeah, you. You don’t have any plans tonight?” He furrows his brow, searching your face for any hint of your meaning. Three seconds later, and his obvious cluelessness manages to pull a more substantial laugh out of you. “It’s Valentine’s Day, Spencer. Don’t tell me you forgot.”

“I didn’t,” he defends, and it isn’t untrue. Morgan spent the whole day detailing his extravagant plans for the night, Will had sent in quite the rose bouquet for JJ, and even Hotch had been quite a bit more preoccupied with his phone than was typical. Valentine’s Day. Reid knows it’s a special day to the calendar, but it doesn’t hold any significance for him. “But, no, no plans. I was actually just on my way home to skim over Dante’s Inferno.”

You scrunch your eyebrows in a sarcastic manner, and Spencer’s just relieved that he’s managed to cheer you up enough that you let your eyes wander back to his face. “What is that, like, the sixth time this week?”

He shrugs a shoulder, unsure as to the reason for the flush of embarrassment creeping up his neck. “Classics never get old.” And then, because he’s an idiot with an ironically one track mind where you’re involved, he adds, “I... like your dress. You look really beautiful tonight.”

“You’re sweet,” you murmur, unsuccessfully attempting to conceal another sniffle. Not at all, actually. ‘Sweet’ implies deception. ‘Sweet’ makes it sound like he’s just trying to soothe your ego with flattery, which couldn’t be further from the truth. He’s not saying it because he thinks you want to hear it, he’s saying it because it’s the truth and he knows it like he knows the sky is blue and the earth is green. He wishes he could convince you to see it that way. “Shame it’s going to have to go to waste, huh? Guess there’s always next year.

“Well it... doesn’t have to,” he stammers. “Go to waste, I mean.” He’s not sure where the bravery for his outburst comes, and he doesn’t particularly care to pursue figuring it out. His senses are screaming at him, going into shock with the sudden uptake in adrenaline pumping through his body, but he only swallows and forces himself to finish. “Not if you don’t want it to.” You only blink at him in silent confusion, trying to puzzle together his meaning. His heart hammers against his chest so hard it’s a wonder you can’t seem to hear it. “There’s a planetarium in town that’s staying open late for the night. When you lay back in the seats under the projector and look up at the stars you lose your central sense of gravity and trick your body into experiencing a floating sensation. It can be kind of off putting at first, but it helps to hold onto something. Which—“ He should really quit while he’s ahead —  “you could hold my hand. If you wanted to. And we could, we could go to the planetarium. Together.”

He watches as you blink, once, then twice, then three times, and all the while his heart’s pace never deadens for even a moment. When your eyes finally focus back on him, eons have passed and stars have expanded into supernovas, all within a few short moments. “You’re… Spencer, are you offering to take me on a date?”

Yes.

No.

... Yes.

The wind picks up suddenly, ruffling your skirt in the breeze, caressing the loose tendrils of your hair. The scent is so intoxicating that it nearly stops Spencer from noticing you shivering once again, and before he even knows what he’s doing, he’s unwinding his scarf from around his neck and taking a confident step toward you.

“Well, it’s like you said,” Spencer responds, wrapping the scarf over your bare shoulders. It’s grey wool and it doesn’t match your dress in the slightest, but he likes seeing you in something of his, and he especially like the way you instantly curl into the garment, inhaling his scent as deeply as he’d been inhaling yours off the breeze. “I don’t have any other plans, and it would be a shame for that dress to go to waste.” He offers his arm for you to accept, unable to pinpoint where this sudden burst of confidence is stemming from. He almost wishes Morgan were here to see it. “Would it make a difference if I promised to have you home by midnight?”

Again, you’re silent, save for another bout of sniffles. Spencer is horrified to see fresh tears brimming in your eyes, coupled with a wobbly frown, and is met with the sudden fear that he’s managed to screw this up — because he always screws things up for himself, even when he’s not trying and even when he’s actually just trying to find more reasons to smile. He’s made you cry now, too, which makes him no better than whichever monster ruined your night in the first place. Any second now you’ll recoil from his offer and tell him to get lost, at which point he will only be able to clutch his wounded pride, and—

You nudge his arm aside and barrel forward to wrap your arms around his middle instead, clutching him close and tight and squeezing just enough to make him feel like an offered lifeline. Well. If you hadn’t been able to hear his heartbeat before, there isn’t any way you don’t hear it now.

“I love you, Spence,” you murmur into his shoulder, and he’s so mesmerized by the perfect fit of your cheek against the base of his throat that he almost doesn’t totally register what it is you’ve just said. “I don’t tell you that near as much as I should.”

Butterflies. You’re prompting butterflies to flutter through his stomach. Like he’s nothing more than a twelve year old schoolboy with a crush on the sweetest girl in class.

“Let’s get going,” he chuckles, smiling down upon you with fondness as he steps back and winds his arm around yours. Huh. Maybe Valentine’s Day shouldn’t be so easily written off after all. “We don’t want to keep the stars waiting, do we?”

“No,” you laugh — actually laugh! — as you rest your head against his shoulder. “I don’t think we do.”

And as the two of you walk down the street, arm in arm, excitement and giddiness charging each and every one of your steps, Spencer can’t help but ponder the fact that he’d left work expecting one sort of inferno for the night and stepped out only to find himself engulfed in a different one entirely.

It’s almost kind of poetic.

—

Chapter Three: In the Name of Dry Shoes

[goldenkookietae]

The Book Fortress Tumbles

BTS One shot

Pairing: Boyfriend!Taehyung x reader

Word count: 3,643 words

Warnings: Smut, strong language, sir!kink, dom!tae, teeny tiny bit of angst

Summary: Your exams are starting soon and you’re beyond stressed. You’re trying not to let that show but it all comes bursting out when your boyfriend Taehyung tries to get you to relax. When you realise your mistake, the only thing you can do, is apologise to him. Just not with words.

A/N: My college just announced that our exams will be held starting from 18th September. That’s too less time to mug up the entirety of the semester syllabus. Sigh. This one shot is reflecting my current situation (minus a Taehyung and dedication towards exams). I accidentally posted this when it was half finished lol, I panicked all the time I was taking it down xD.

Disclaimer: This story is an AU fanfiction that I have created using the names of the members of BTS. I do not claim any ownership over the members of BTS. The plot and the personalities of the characters are entirely my own.

Do not plagiarize my work and do not repost.

 *

Moodboard

*I do not claim ownership over any of the pictures. They are credited to their original owners.

“Y/N~” Taehyung sang, skipping up to the study table, a pile of books hiding the person behind from view.

A faint “yes” was whispered softly from behind the walls of what seemed like a book fortress. Taehyung knew that the queen in this fort had probably not even looked up from her current preoccupation.

But somehow, as the “boyfriend”, he had a few special privileges. Somehow he could pull her to cuddle with him when  she had an exam the day next, somehow he could wake her up in the middle of the night and still get her to cook for him, somehow he could steal her ice cream after having his and get her to find him rather cute.

Okay, maybe the last two aren’t true. Those are the things I’d do for her. He thought. Either way, whatever the consequences might be, he felt deprived, almost jealous of bound pages and thick covers.

She had told him a month before, on a day that Taehyung now marked as a blue day in his life, that her exams were coming up and that she’d have to focus on her studies. That she’d have to give her attention to her text books instead of her handsome boyfriend. And the second her exams would be done, they could do whatever he pleased.

Oh, the many many things Taehyung had in mind for everything that pleased him. On top of the list was her name in bold, underlined, Y/N. Y/N had been scanning her books so intently throughout this whole month, it seemed as though she was studying the instructions to defuse a bomb that was seconds from exploding. He hardly saw her around the house, only between the times she came outside to refill her snack jar or water bottle or for her meals. It got to the point where she hadn’t even realised that Taehyung had shifted to her apartment and had been staying with her throughout.

It was funny because they’d share the same bed and wake up inside a warm blanket burrito. Even if she had realised, she hadn’t said a word and Taehyung was more than happy with that. Staying back at his place while she was like this was close to being on an entirely different planet with no forms of communication.

He had picked up a lot of hobbies to distract himself, he played more video games, ate a lot of food, tried cooking (which surprisingly went okay), cleaned her house to make sure she was always comfortable and sometimes worked overtime because everything else was simply boring. But at times when she hadn’t noticed he’d pursue another wonderful hobby. Since Y/N wasn’t really bothered about what Taehyung was up to, he unashamedly spent his time staring at her. She wasn’t even dressed to impress these days, putting on the first thing she reached in her cupboard before sitting down to study.

But she loved being comfortable. And Taehyung noticed how she’d always pick the shortest shorts she had, ones that barely covered the globe of her ass. He would’ve loved those clothes on her every damn day, only if he wasn’t restricted to staying a mile away so she could ‘focus’ and almost suffering from blue balls.

“Y/N~” he whined yet again, choosing to cross over to other side of the fort and poking the bookworm. His plan for the night was to at least get some attention. He had been deprived of it for more than a month, it had reached the point where he would be in an existential crisis from lack of affection.

He would respect all her restrictions, he was being so good at keeping his carnal desires at bay (even if his hand was no match), he hadn’t complained when she finished her food early and left him alone to eat his portion, and definitely didn’t bother her for falling asleep on top of her books. He somehow felt proud of being that boyfriend, the one who’d bring her meals and would carry her back to bed when she’d fallen asleep.

But he just hoped that this, whatever it was, probably a test from the gods, would soon come to an end. And that Y/N would then jump onto his lap and kiss the living daylights out of him to tell him that he passed with flying colours.

All he wanted was a little bit of cuddling that night. The exams were still a week away and she could spare that much for him, couldn’t she?

He poked her again. One last time. And when that earned him nothing more but hummed ‘yes’, he knew it had come down to war. He extended his hands to her waist, caressing the soft flesh before taking on a different turn.

“Taehyungie! Stop!” Y/N hollered, jerking so suddenly that the central defense of her fort broke and tumbled to the ground in all the glory of crumpled and dog eared pages.

All that didn’t bother Taehyung as he tickled her sides, not caring about the curses leaving her mouth at that instant. If he paid any attention, then it would definitely turn him hard.

He picked her up effortlessly, carrying her over to the bed and placing her down. He climbed on top of her slowly, licking his lips as his face leveled with hers.

“Let’s just cuddle for tonight Y/N. You’ve been overworking yourself and it’s okay to take some time off to relieve stress. Relax for today, okay?” Taehyung muttered soothingly, rubbing her arms to warm her skin.

“Or maybe we can do something else to relieve your stress?” He chuckled trying to lighten the passive expression on Y/N’s face but it only made it more poignant. Before he could say anything else, the anxiety all came onto Y/N at once, making her snap.

“Taehyung stop! This is not a joke. My entire career depends on these exams and you’re treating it like a joke! Stop it!” Y/N exclaimed and Taehyung went still. 

He knew she didn’t mean that and she knew that her career was as important to Taehyung as it was to her. He was looking out for her simply. She knew this too.

Sighing, Taehyung slid off her and stood next to the bed.

“Your career is important Y/N, I know that. It is to me too. But you’re taking too much pressure. You need a stress buster once in a while. Maybe this was not the best way and I’m sorry about that but maybe we can watch a movie tonight or-” Taehyung kept thinking of more things but Y/N cut him off.

“No. I am not under pressure. I do not need a stress buster. All I need to do is study and revise like I was already doing.” Y/N said as she looked at Taehyung pointedly, before sliding off the bed and sitting down at her desk.

“Alright. Let me know if you need anything.” Taehyung gulped. When she didn’t respond, he sighed and left the room as quietly as he could.

Y/N felt bad. When Taehyung had jumped onto her, all her focus flew out of her mind and she finally realised why she had been fidgety all week. Even when Taehyung had offered it to her on a silver platter, she’d refused like a total idiot and was now facing the consequences. From the corner of her eyes, she watched Taehyung through the slightly open door of her room. She could see him laying on the couch, his long legs spread out before him invitingly, his tongue sticking out and jaw flexing as he concentrated on playing the game.

As her eyes slid down, she focused on his hands, his long fingers working the joystick easily, the veins on his arms straining against his skin. Oh, she knew very well what all she wanted him to work with those fingers. The thought made her close her eyes and bite her lip, and she mindlessly clenched her thighs together.

She considered walking up to him right then, but the thought of coming back to him after she’d sent him away so strongly seemed too embarrassing. If that were to happen, Taehyung would never let go of the incident and would tease her about it forever.

In a desperate attempt to calm herself, she turned back to her books, revising topics again and again but still feeling as though she was reading them for the first time ever.  Her eyes slid over to her water bottle as she recited the words she’d just read to herself again.

Tae’s thicker than that. She thought looking over the bottle and imagining a different view in front of her.

“What are you doing, you idiot?” she whispered, realising that her hands were now around the bottle, and she was fisting it with a well known need. Sighing she stood up, knowing she had no choice.

She slipped out of her room, trying not to close the door too hard. Walking straight to her boyfriend, she stood in front of the TV, blocking his view while facing him.

Taehyung looked up at her in confusion, and frowned when the sound of his avatar dying echoed behind her. But as soon as Y/N slid to her knees before him, his lips twisted into a smirk. In a second he threw the joystick in his hand to the side and leaned back into the couch making himself comfortable and pushing his legs closer towards her.

When Y/N bit her lip and stared at him hungrily, he raised an eyebrow.

You just gonna sit there or do something? I’m waiting.

It was so easy to understand everything about him after they’d been together for so long and she didn’t want to disappoint him now. Quickly, her hands unbuttoned his skin tight jeans and unzipped them, while Taehyung simply snuggled deeper into the couch as though waiting for a show about to go down.

Well, something was going down alright. That thing being Y/N.

She struggled to pull off the jeans, huffing every time her strength wasn’t enough, and Taehyung made no effort to help her out. Normally, Taehyung would be praising her throughout, but at the moment her only reward was the delicious view of his thick thighs.

Without wasting a second, Y/N pulled his boxer briefs down to his knees, then to his ankles and her face narrowly missed getting hit by his cock. After more than a month of sexual frustration, her mouth drooled as she laid eyes on his thick, huge cock, veins straining against the length as it stood hard and proud. She was a fool, comparing a stupid water bottle to the masterpiece in front of her.

He was already hard, and Y/N thought he must have been for quite some time through the evening. She’d done that. And she must be the one to fix it.

“Go on darling, suck me off.” Taehyung murmured bringing his fingers to her chin for a moment, tilting her face up and then letting go.

“Yes, sir.” Y/N whispered before taking him into her mouth fully, too hasty and needy to tease him at that point. She flattened her tongue against the smooth skin of his cock, lathering it with her saliva and tasting the salty tang of his precum. As her mouth grew full, she took him as far as she could go, stopping before her gag reflex could hit her and then looking up at Taehyung.

“Fuck. You’re going to kill me with those eyes.” Taehyung grunted, biting his lip harshly and never taking his eyes off Y/N. The sight of her kneeling before him, her mouth full of his cock and her pretty eyes looking at him so innocently - it was too much. His hand raised above his head, gripping the top edge of the couch for support as his jaw slacked and eyes closed.

As he prepared to relax, his eyes snapped open when Y/N picked up speed suddenly and sucked him faster, bobbing her head up and down his length, using her hands to jerk him where she couldn’t take him into her mouth. His eyes threatened to close as hot pleasure shot through him, but he managed to keep them open and fixed them onto Y/N’s eyes. While she sucked him off, he could see the way her hands slid down her body, no doubt seeking for her own pleasure.

But Taehyung was having none of that.

“The only place your hands are allowed to be are on my cock. Understood babygirl?” He glared, and he was surprised that he managed to keep the tremble out of his voice.

Y/N let out something between a whine and a hum, making Taehyung’s eyes roll back into his head. Nevertheless, he felt her figure move and he knew she’d obeyed him.

Straining his eyes to open, he saw her holding her hands behind her back and sucking his cock like her life depended on it. He shifted his hand from his side to her hair, gripping the roots above her neck and momentarily pulling her off of his throbbing member.

“Use your words girl.” He growled, clutching onto her hair tighter and bringing her closer so the head of his cock touched her lips. Y/N let out a soft sigh at the pain, enjoying it more than she should.

“Yes, sir.” she gulped, and immediately Taehyung pushed her back onto him, using the grip on her hair to guide her downward till her nose brushed his skin. Y/N gagged and swallowed, and the sensation made Taehyung’s thighs clench in pleasure.

Y/N didn’t miss that, she kept swallowing and moaning, the soft vibrations of her mouth against his cock, making him climb higher and higher to the edge of his release. And when Taehyung felt her soft hands shift from behind her to massage his balls, his hips jerked and he knew he was close. With three long thrusts into her pretty mouth, Taehyung came with a loud grunt, shooting strings of white hot cum into Y/N’s mouth which she swallowed hungrily.

Taehyung laid there for a few minutes, taking deep breaths to normalise his thundering heart. He peeked open an eye to look at Y/N and groaned when he saw her sitting on her knees with her hands on her lap. So obedient.

He leaned forward and held her chin with his hands, tilting up her face and bringing it close to his. His cum glistened on her lips and the thin layer of sweat on her forehead made it look like her skin was glowing.

“That was a very nice apology, babygirl.” He cooed, pecking Y/N’s lips softly. With his thumb, he scooped up a drop of his cum that had dripped onto her chin and pushed it into her mouth, immediately feeling her tongue swirl around his finger.

“And that is forgiveness.” He muttered, cupping her neck and pressing his lips to hers, swiping his tongue against the soft flesh and tasting himself. For Taehyung, it had all been a plan to get attention, and he got more than he had asked for, but if Y/N couldn’t get her release then there was no point.

Y/N felt Taehyung’s hands slowly slide down her skin, coming to rest at her hips where he held her tight. As she deepened the kiss and pushed her tongue into his mouth, he pulled her up and placed her onto his thighs, his cock slipping against the thin material of her shorts.

Her mouth tipped open against his, and she pressed herself onto him, grinding up and down while Taehyung nipped at her skin. When Taehyung cupped her between her thighs she let out a strangled gasp. The sound had woken something primal in Taehyung and he growled against her skin, biting down on the skin above her breast.

It had been so long since they’d done anything together, so long since Y/N had touched herself, that she knew she wouldn’t be able to last long. Taehyung would get his hands on her clit and she’d fall apart and that’s exactly what she needed. More than she had imagined.

Stripping off their clothes was a hasty blur, their mouths never leaving each other’s skin, kissing, nipping, biting, licking and sucking. Taehyung’s hands slid down to Y/N’s now bare heat, groaning at how slick and wet Y/N was.

“You didn’t want to say no to me, did you babygirl? Look at how wet you are.” He murmured, pressing and circling his thumb on her clit making her whimper. She whimpered helplessly when he pushed one long finger into her making her cling to him for support. When his finger curled inside her, she felt a familiar knot of pleasure and she blushed, embarrassed that she was going to come as fast as the time she’d lost her virginity. Too damn fast. She hid her face in the crook of Taehyung’s shoulder, biting down on the tanned skin as his fingers pushed her towards the edge relentlessly.

As Taehyung continued finger fucking her, his mouth was occupied with her breasts, sucking them and littering the skin with deep purple marks.

“Cum for me, Y/N. Cum on my fingers. Fuck.” He rasped, his teeth pulling at her pebbled nipple and Y/N came all over his fingers, letting out a loud cry and clutching tighter onto his shoulders.

Y/N relaxed against Taehyung’s shoulders, sucking deep breaths to compensate for all the breath Taehyung had knocked out of her with his talented fingers. Taehyung kept his eyes on her heat, pulling his fingers out of her and dragging his tongue over them with a loud a moan.

“So sweet. I missed this.” Taehyung said softly, his eyes closing to savour her taste on his tongue, licking his fingers in a manner to leave no drop untasted.

Just when Y/N had opened her mouth to speak, she jolted in surprise when Taehyung’s cock slid into her, stretching her walls as he reached all the way till he bottomed out. His eyes slowly turned to her, hooded with lust and a glint in his eye that she knew all too well.

This is payback for surprising me earlier.

“Fuck, you’re so tight. You’re squeezing me.” Taehyung groaned, and Y/N’s eyes fluttered shut. She couldn’t comprehend words at that moment, her tongue tied with being sensitive and the way Taehyung was rocking his hips into hers.

“You’re still on birth control right?” Taheyung asked through gritted teeth, struggling to pause his movements before his mind spiraled out of control.

“Yes, just please, Tae-” Y/N whined, unable to finish her sentence as Taehyung pulled out and thrust into her. Sitting flush on his lap, Y/N could feel the length of his cock reach into her deeper than ever. With the little energy she had, she raised her hips and pushed herself back onto him at the exact moment that Taehyung thrust upwards.

“Tae!” she moaned, biting her lip so hard she drew blood, a hand coming up to squeeze her breast as the other clutched onto Taehyung’s thigh to make sure she wouldn’t fall off. Taehyung didn’t give her a second to breathe, setting a rhythm, driving deeper and harder into her each time. She knew it was all the built up tension over a month of inactivity and she wasn’t complaining even when her body shook with over stimulation.

Y/N eventually leaned into him, letting him guide her the way he wanted and she loved it. Gripping the soft flesh of her ass he made her ride him, driving her up and down on his cock and getting high on the sounds of their skins slapping together and the way Y/N’s tits bounced right in front of his face.

Despite her usual vocal self, Y/N felt her voice disappear, every word she tried to form dispersing into mewls and whimpers.

Touch me there. She tried to tell him, a moan and a curse leaving her mouth instead, making her frustrated with the building tension. She moved her hand in search of Taehyung’s, sighing almost immediately when his fingers were on her on her clit, rubbing and pinching the bundle of nerves.

Y/N’s orgasm crashed through her with high pitched moan, shattering any coherent sense left in her and numbing her senses where the only thing she felt was the hot seed that Taehyung had shot inside her, his groans muffled by the heavy daze of her mind. It was too much to handle.

“We’re out of practise.” She managed to whisper finally, her voice hoarse and tired. Taehyung chuckled at that, watching Y/N’s chest heave with every breath and syncing it to his own breathing. His thumb rubbed soothing circles onto her skin and he pressed a chaste kiss on her bare shoulder.

“Let’s get you cleaned up baby.” Taehyung murmured, softly carding his hands through Y/N’s hair. All the exhaustion she had been feeling caught up to her, what with the tension of qualifying her exams, of meeting everyone’s expectations and the intense overwhelming pleasure she had just experienced.

Her lids dropped slowly, the only thing keeping her awake being the soft brush of cloth against her skin which she assumed was Taehyung cleaning her up. When her back hit the soft mattress and Taehyung’s warmth pressed against her skin, she could barely keep herself from crashing into sleep.

“Sleep Y/N.” Taehyung whispered against her hair, kissing her temple softly and pulling her to him. “Stop making me worry all the time. And don’t you worry either. You’ll do great. And you’ll make us all proud.” He finished, pressing more kisses against her hair and pulling her closer into his chest.

“I love you.”

With those words of reassurance, Y/N smiled just before she drifted off to sleep.

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[kickingitwithkirk]

Greetings From Austin: Part II

Pairing: Alpha!Jensen Ackles x Alpha!Jared Padalecki x Omega!OFC

Summary: Jensen and Jared are at odds over a monumental decision that changes their lives in a way they couldn’t have envisioned.  

Word Count: 3985

Warnings: a/b/o, bisexuality, angst, cursing, self doubt, depression/anxiety, married life/disagreements, medical stuff, sexual dysfunction, infertility, surrogacy

*Jensen acting out of character

*additional warnings to be added in future parts.

A/N: series Inspired by this art.

A/N II: For this part I did some research & delved into a bit of reproductive/genetic testing-please don’t dink me on details, I altered it a bit to fit A/B/O verse.

A/N III:  There is no intentional hate or malevolence intended towards any of the Ackles or Padalecki families. This is a purely fictional piece containing real and created persons/names/events set in the fictional  A/B/O verse. Some dates/events altered to fit story.

Part I

*no beta-all mistakes are mine

*photos found online

One hour later

Jensen sets two sealed cups in the small niche shutting its door and grabs his jacket sliding it on, his inner Alpha purring with satisfaction watching his husband's fumbling fingers working at a button on his shirt, “Need any help babe?”

Jared’s all dilated pupils and glowing cheeks above his thick beard, “I’m good, I'll be out in a few.” Jensen leans in for one more soft, lingering kiss before leaving. Locking the door behind him Jared leans against it, closing his eyes, savoring the last vestiges of his oxytocin high.

He can’t stop recalling that mischievous glint in those luminous green eyes as Jensen slowly licked his plush lips before diving in to kiss him stupid, his long, sinful tongue doing things that’s probably illegal in twenty states, hands with ooh, so thick, talented fingers capable all sorts of magical things.

Shaking himself out of the memory he crossed over to the sink and caught his debauched reflection in the mirror. Shit, he can’t out looking like this.

Turning on the tap cups his hand to catch some of the running water splashing his face to cool off when his phone starts vibrating in his back pocket. Drying his hands and face he pulls it out checking the text. Glancing up he runs a hand over his thick beard, smoothing it down before leaving the room.

Completely preoccupied typing a reply he rounds the corner heading for the doctor's office slamming into a woman knocking her off her feet, the contents of the bag she’s carrying scatter loudly across the floor.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry!”

From her seated position she looks up...and up, his long, long legs clad in low riding jeans barely held up by a loosely buckled leather belt, his shirts rucked-up, a bit of his treasure trail and toned abs flanked by the sharp V of his hip peeking out.

“FuckI’mfuckingsorryFuckdidn’tfuckingsee....”

Jared, embarrassed, keeps apologizing, laced with fuck every other word, squats down gathering scattered items, dropping them back into the bag continuously babbling until she bursts out laughing. “And here I be thinking I said fuck to much,” a subtle lilt in her voice making it sound like she’s saying fook instead.

They move around each other picking up the last of her stuff. Jared reaches for a scarf when the central air catches a few loose strands of her hair, lightly dancing them across his cheek.

He inhales sharply as her piquant scent travels through his system eliciting a rumbling purr deep in his chest, “Fuck..” She breathes out gazing directly into his kaleidoscope eyes, watching mesmerized as they bleed into red with arousal as her eyes flash gold in response.

“I..I..fuck..I’ve gotta go!” She sputters, scrambling to her feet, grabs the bag hurrying away, leaving him holding the scarf.

Lifting the forgotten fabric to his face Jared deeply inhaled her scent, reaching down presses against his cock chubbing up the second time that day. He morosely stares in the direction she fled in once more, a low whine of loss escapes before he tucks the scarf into his back pocket and resumes heading towards the doctor’s office.

Dr. Rodgers, standing just inside in a doorway observing unnoticed, makes a mental note.

***

Jensen watches amused as Jared sits down with a slight wince, a not unpleasant reminder of their recent interlude, teases, “Did I make that much of a mess out of you Jay?”

Jared shrugs with a nonchalant “eh.” Jensen lowers his chin leaning close growling his displeasure at the flippant response, Jared internally shivers knowing he’s gonna pay for it when they get home, much to his delight.

Jensen abruptly stops growling, “You stink like Omega!”

Dr. Rodgers comes in carrying a binder saving Jared from responding, “We’ll get your test results in about two weeks unless we see something that needs further investigation.” He sets down the binder in front of them, opening it to the first page revealing a dossier and picture.

“Now, the next bit is selecting an egg donor. I’m sure you're wondering how we select the donors. I rely on a protein compatibility test, similar to the markers blood test used when matching Alphas and Omegas, narrowing down prospective candidates.

All of our donors are Betas and Omegas. Several of the Betas are willing to be the surrogate too. If you choose to go with an Omega donor we will have the extra step of selecting a Beta surrogate but that’s something to discuss later if needed.

We also take into account your personal preferences when it comes to physical traits, personality, etc. I’ll introduce you to the top three that are the best matches. If for some reason none of them work out, we’ll try the next most compatible candidates.”

Dr. Rodgers clicks his pen, “Let’s get started shall we.”

***

Flipping off the light switch Jensen walks out of the bath to find Jared already asleep. Crossing over to their bed he stopped at his side admiring him.

How had he gotten so lucky to have Jared as his? Over fifteen years since that life changing meeting he was more in love with his mate than ever, the ups and downs in their relationship that could have torn them apart made their marriage stronger.

Jensen took hold of the book Jared had been reading, gently pulling it out of his hand, slid in a bookmark and placed it on the nightstand turning off the lamp.

Easing into his side of the bed he leaned over pressing a soft kiss to Jared’s bare shoulder, who only wore bottoms since he always ran warm. Shifting, Jared buries his face into Jensen's neck, draping a long arm across his chest snuggling close, “Thank you.”

“For what babe?”

“Helping me today,” he could feel Jared’s breath warm against his skin, “I know you're against having more but please don’t decide not to, I want to have pups with you.”

Jensen mentality sighed, he’d be forty-three before they were born and didn’t want to be the old dad. Jared had argued that he'd never be, they knew lots of people were having their families later, look at Reedus, fifty when his daughter came and JDM, he was almost fifty-two when George was born.

“I’ll make you a deal, I’ll say yes if we find one donor we both agree on,” he felt Jared’s emotions shifting more positive, “but if you like one and me another, I’m not doing it.”

Jared pressed several soft kisses to the side of his neck, “Okay Jen,” he agrees, shifting to lay his head on his shoulder, “we’ll find the one, I can feel it.” he sleepily finishes.

Jensen rests his cheek against the top of Jared's head, not fallen asleep for ages. How was he going to handle Jared’s inevitable disappointment, knowing it will happen since they have always had vastly different tastes in females.

***

Five days later

7:00 A.M.

Jared was up to mile three of his daily workout on the treadmill in his office. He usually ran outside this early in the morning but a surprise thunderstorm altered his plans for the day when his phone rang. He dialed the machine down to walking speed to answer.

“Hello, Mr. Page, this is Sissy from Dr. Rodgers office, I’m sorry to be calling so early. He would like for you to come back in for a follow up about your semen testing.” Jared’s throat tightened, closing off his ability to respond.

He stepped off the machine and sat down on the large leather couch, “Sorry I..what time can I come in?”

“We have an opening at 8:45, will that work?”

“Yes ma’am, I can be there then.”

“Great, we’ll see you in a bit Mr. Page.”

Jared sat back not caring he was getting sweat all over the leather and started his breathing exercise to calm himself, telling his brain to knock it off, surely it wasn’t anything major with how calm Sissy was on the phone.

Ten minutes later he was still anxious but able to handle it. He glanced at his watch and knew he had to get his butt in gear to make the appointment.

Walking into the bedroom he found Jensen softly snoring so he moved as quietly as he could grabbing some clean clothes and headed for the shower. He left a note by the coffee pot saying he had an errand and be back ASAP.

He pulled into the clinics parking lot with five minutes to spare. Tucking his hair into his ever present beanie, Jared slipped on his mask and dashed through the downpour into the clinic.

After being temperature checked, Sissy walked him to the doctor's office. Knocking on the door she opened it and Jared saw the doctor on the phone gesturing for him to come in as he finished his call.

“Hello Mr. Page, thank you for coming in. I wanted to go over a discrepancy the lab found with your test, I'll try not to use too much doctor jargon.” He layed three pages on the table in front of him, a color printout of a sperm DNA strand broke down into segments and the others Jared recognized as chromosome mapping. “These are part of the Alphas sperm DNA sequencing. Normally, this one has a wide band in this segment,” he pointed to a circled area on the right page demonstrating a normal sequence. “This is your sperm's DNA. What I wanted to show you is a variant in the same section,” he circled a column on the left page, “which contains a narrow band instead,” he highlighted one piece of the chain.

“What does it mean?” Jared asked nervously.

“I’m going to be honest with you, I don’t know, I’ve never encountered this variant before. I looked at your previous testing from 2016 and it was also present on that test, not sure why it was overlooked. I’ve consulted with a few colleagues of mine to get their take,” he paused resting his arms on the desk watching Jared’s expression, “Mr. Page, I didn’t ask you to come in to upset you, I prefer to keep my clients in the loop if anything unusual does present with their testing. It’s possibly something that's genetically unique to you and affects nothing. I’d like to run a Tunel test, it’s a sperm chromatin structure analysis, it’ll give us more information to work with.”

Jared fidgeted, desperately wanting to chew on his fingers, “Umm…okay.”

“Good, it's not invasive at all, we just need some more sperm.” Dr. Rodgers says.

~~~

Jensen was stumbling around the kitchen working on his first cup of coffee when Jared walked in carrying a box from his favorite bakery.

“Those aren’t what I think they are?” Jensen asks as Jared sits the box down on the counter. He opens the lid inhaling the scent of decadent cinnamon roll goodness before pulling out one and taking a huge bite moaning pornographically, “Babe, whatever I did to warrant these remind me to do it again,” he says with his mouthful.

Jared chuckles as his mate continues making obscene noises before bending down taken a bit from the other side earning warning snarl.

“You are so not a morning person.” Jared chided sliding the box over to retrieve his own taking it setting down at the island bar pulling a chunk off.

“You wanna share what’s rattling around in that big head of yours?” Jensen inquires. Jared chews slowly before answering. “I got a call from the clinic, something showed up in my test.”

Jensen snapped fully alert, his roll forgotten, and sat down next to him, “Jared, what’s wrong? Are you sick?”

Jared fiddled with his roll, pulling it apart, “No, not that I’m aware of but they found something off and don’t know what it is. Dr. Rodgers said it’s probably nothing but wanted to run another test to see if he can figure out what it is what if something is wrong and turns out I was the reason Genevieve couldn’t get pregnant I don’t know if I can handle it the possibility of not being able to have pups I’ve wanted them for so long I can’t imagine our lives...”

“Jared,” Jensen sharpness interrupts Jared’s incessant rambling, making him go quiet, “I know you want to go to the worst possible outcome but let’s wait till all the tests are back. If it’s something, we’ll deal, we always do.”

***

August 3rd

“Jen, move your ass, were gonna be late!” Jared bellows from downstairs.

“I’m coming...dammit!” Jensen cursed as he tripped over the boxes left sitting by the bottom step. “You need to get the rest of this shit out of the way, about killed myself again!”

“I’ll stay up tonight moving the rest of this fucking shit if you’ll get a fucking move on!”

The sniping at each other had gotten worse since the house renovations were barely completed before heading back to Vancouver.

Jensen moved his music studio into the newly created space in the basement from the former guest quarters, now relocated to the spacious pool house. The empty upstairs rooms were converted into the eventual nursery/kids rooms with a Jack and Jill bathroom between them.

“You better start watching your goddamn language cause the last thing we need is for our kids to have a trash mouth like…don’t roll your eyes at me!” Jared threw his arms up in disgust before storming out to the garage getting in Jensen’s truck. They drove to the clinic in silence.

They were flying out tomorrow to quarantine for two weeks before resuming shooting on the eighteenth. Then the clinic called their tests were back and Jared didn’t want to wait till they got back for the results.

After their temperature check they were immediately escorted to the doctor’s office finding him already there. “Mr. Bonham, Mr. Page, pleasure to see you, please have a seat.” They sit next to each other not touching. “Is there something wrong gentleman?”

“Why do you ask?” Jensen barks, “Fuck man, don’t be rude!” Jared bit back earning a glare that makes most sane people back away from Jensen.

“Gentleman, no need to fight. It may surprise you but I actually see a lot of hostility between my clients. I’m sure the added stress of the quarantine while trying to start a family is putting your Alpha instincts more on edge, is it not?”

Jensen sighed, “I’m sorry sir, I was raised better.”

Jared gave an apologetic smile, “I’m sorry too sir, and you're right.”

“I’ve been doing this for a long time and understand the situation from your side, my wife and I had trouble conceiving. We ended up having two sets of twins within three years, now that’s stress.”

Jensen blinked, “And I thought mine were a handful.”

Dr. Rodgers laughed, “They are a blessing but honestly, it’s an absolute madhouse at times. So, let’s get back to you two. Mr. Bonham, everything looks good, you are in the top percentile when it comes to mobility and live sperm count for your age group. One of the advantages of being an Alpha, unlike us poor Betas who’s diminish with age.”

“Mr. Page, I also have your results and the Tunel tests which turned out to be something.. unique.”

Jared eyes widened as he paled, his breath hitching, feeling his stomachs spastic tightening making him about vomit. He knew it, he knew something was going to go wrong, his brain didn’t lie to him this time.

Jensen was out of his chair and utilizing his Alpha strength turned Jared’s towards him before kneeling between his legs reaching up to firmly grip the sides of his head forcing him to focus on him opens up his side of their bond he’d shut the other day when they were arguing to gauge how bad this one was.

“Hey Hey, concentrate on me, I need you to breathe with me,” he held Jared’s gaze for several minutes as their breathing cinqued up, feeling him relaxing.

“There you go big guy. It wasn’t that bad, focus on your breathing okay.” Jared nodded embarrassed as Dr. Rodgers sat a bottle of water in front of him, “Do you need me to get you anything else?”

“No, he’s fine, thank you,” Jensen answers, getting up retaking his chair as Jared took a long drink from the bottle, “he’s usually more aware of these attacks but since the damn lock-downs.” Jensen shook his head in disgust, “We're heading back to Vancouver tomorrow to finish our sh..job before his new one starts late October. I guess it’s really hitting us both that it's finally ending.”

“Mr. Ackles, you can say show,” Jared and Jensen stare at him in surprise, “my daughters are fans, I know more about the Winchester brothers than a man my age should.” Dr. Rodgers ruminates, “Mr. Page, are you ready for me to continue?” Jared nodded as Jensen wrapped both of his hands around his free one.

“After I received the results I spoke with a specialist in Alpha genetics. They looked at all your tests and came back with a conclusion I’ve never heard of before.” The doctor laid a printout on the desk, “This is a visual aid to help me in explaining.”

“Chemoattactants are what a female's egg releases to attract the sperm to it. You know how it works from there; sperm meets egg, sperm penetrates egg and viola, fertilization. Alphas sperm has evolved allowing them to inseminate all three sub-genders, whereas male Omegas sperm is sterile since they possess both sets of reproductive organs but only need to utilize one.”

The doctor sets all three of Jared’s tests and the normal example on his desk for them to see, “This chromatin structure you carry Mr. Page,” he points to the highlighted section, “has altered so that the eggs of Alphas and Betas are chemorepellent to your sperm, rejecting fertilization.”

Jared sat still-shocked, blankly staring at the results lying before him, vaguely feeling Jensen reaching across their bond again. “Does this mean he’s...infertile?” He can hear Jensen hesitant inquiry, like he's standing across a vast chasm.

“In conventional terms, yes. This is the reason you were unable to conceive with your previous spouse, being a Beta, and there is still no medical intervention available that would have helped. What’s unique is his sp...”

Jared was numb. His dreams of a little Padackles tearing around their home had literally been salt and burned before his eyes with those test results.

In the recesses of his attention he’s aware of the continuing conversation around him, the longer it goes on, the more his brain is tuning out.

~~~

The first thing he becomes aware of are fingertips caressing his face, softly wiping away wetness damping his cheeks. Slowly blinking the blurry shape in front of him comes into focus.

Jensen is sitting in front of him. More accurately, he’s sitting cross legged in between his own splayed legs on the floor. Jared frowns as his senses are coming back online.

He was sitting on the chair that’s now off to his right so how did he end up with his back against the desk?

“You passed out,” Jensen answers his unspoken question, “and scared the ever-living shit out of me! I thought you were having an aneurysm the way your eyes rolled back into your big head!”

“I..I..don’t know what happened, I was looking at the results, you were asking questions..then nothing.”

“Stress Jared, you are completely stressed out and it's fucking with your illness!” He opens his mouth, “No, I’m not done so be quiet.” Jensen’s voice dropped with his Alpha tone overlaying it,

“Between that final script having you nuts all year, this quarantine fucking up your meds, dealing with your businesses shutdowns, getting Walker started, you had to add pushing for pups, it’s no wonder you couldn’t handle the doctor explanation of...”

“Explanation of what?” Jared lashes back in own Alpha voice, leaning forward into Jensen’s space, his eyes flashing red, “That I’m infertile, sterile, shooting blanks..”

“Shut that fucking mouth for two minutes or I swear I’ll deck you.” Jensen’s normally warm green eyes bleed into a fierce red, becoming hard.

Jared’s mouth snapped shut in surprise. They had gotten into plenty of arguments over the years, gotten in each other’s faces a few times but this was a first. Jensen had never, ever threatened physical harm.

Well, somewhat that time Misha set him off during a panel and he went for him afterwards. Misha stupidly goaded him again before Jensen gave him a shove, ordering him to cool off before he had to do something.

Jensen’s jaw ticked as he mentally counted to ten, “Dr. Rodgers said that you couldn’t impregnate another Alpha or Beta right?”

“Right.”

“The part you zoned out is that your sperm wants to only fertilize an Omega’s eggs.”

Sighing heavily, Jensen crawls over a leg to sit against the desk next to him. Jared pulls his legs up and wraps his arms around them, resting his chin on his knees processing this information as Jensen reaches over and gently rubs his hand in random patterns over his back.

They had mutually agreed on a Beta donor. Now this threw a wrench in the plans.

“Maybe this is a sign we’re rushing into this again. Let’s take a step back and consider all our options.” Jared’s muscles stiffened under his hand.

“I’m not considering anything else and I’m not stopping.”

“Wait...what?”

Jared lifted his head, “I’m not considering anything else and I’m not stopping. I realize this isn’t what you want so don’t worry, I’m not gonna hold you to our agreement.”

Jensen exhaled sharply knowing when Jared spoke in that tone, that was it, end of discussion, mind made up.

Jared gets up, “I’m going to find Dr. Rodgers and see if he's still willing to help me. If you want to leave, go. I’ll get an Uber when I’m done.” He walks out quietly shutting the door behind him.

“Fuck!” Jensen closed his eyes thumping his head back against the desk. He knew he had screwed up and there was only one way to make it right.

***

Jensen asked Jared to let him stay, he was wrong for saying that and he'd be open to one of the Omegas as a possible donor too. Jared wasn’t completely appeased but he was happy Jensen didn’t take the out given him.

The three candidates were smart, attractive, lovely scented Omegas in their twenties that any Alpha looking for a prospective mate would seriously consider, leaving Jensen wanting something else.

“I like aspects of all three Jay, but honestly, I'm not feeling it with any of them.”

“Maybe you’ve reached the stage you’re looking for more substance, less aesthetic.”

“Did you just call me old?” Jensen gaped at his husband.

Before Jared responds, Dr. Rodgers enters, “I see from your expression Mr. Bonham that you haven’t decided on a candidate.”

“It’s not that I didn’t like any of them, there isn’t a..”

“Connection. It’s normal, just because your Alpha doesn’t mean you..desire every Omega you cross paths with. With some it takes time to find the right one.” He looks at his watch.

“We’re at the end of our appointment but I have one more donor I’d like you to meet today. She’s doesn’t exactly fit your personal physical preferences but this omega is...special..and she’s willing to be the surrogate too.”

The doctor opens the door gestures to someone. They stand up to greet her and as she enters they are enveloped by her piquant scent.

“Mr. Page and Mr. Bonham, this is Quinn.”

***

tbc

Part III

GFA: @babypink224221 @waywardjoy @let-me-luve-you @all-4-wincest

SPN: @donnatix @lyarr24

Sam/Jared @idreamofplaid

Dean/Jensen: @flamencodiva

[fullmetalscullyy]

undercover dating

summary: Mustang and Hawkeye accept a mission at the request of Fuhrer Grumman to apprehend a questionable man who is involved in moving illegal weapons through the country. The catch? They must go undercover as lovers in order to infiltrate the high-end restaurant in Central that caters to that particular clientele.

rated: t | words: 3588 | warnings: violence, shootout, gunshot wound

read on ao3

“To be honest,” Hawkeye muttered, plastering a smile on her face as she rested her hand on her commanding officer’s forearm. “I’m not sure if he did this to either try and embarrass us or to try and force something.”

“Oh yeah?” Roy replied, showing his most charming smile to the doorman and giving the man his surname.

They were both silent as they were shown to their table. The booths were high backed, giving the impression of intimacy and privacy. There was even a curtain that could be pulled across the entrance to further shield them from view. Roy noted the incredibly beautiful place settings resting atop gold embroidered tablecloths, with more knives and forks than he knew what to do with. Like the walls, the tablecloth was a deep red, the vibrancy almost muted by the dim lighting in the restaurant. The place settings were stark white against the cloth below it. A plush black carpet was beneath their feet, with tiny flecks of glitter through it. As they walked by, the light caught the flecks and their attention.

Once settled in their private booth, Roy picked up their conversation, finally away from any possible prying eyes and ears.

“You really think he would force something like this?” His voice was low as a precaution. Not that anyone would be paying attention, but one could never be too careful.

Hawkeye rolled her eyes. “How could you not think that?”

“I admit,” he grinned, the smile reaching his eyes and making them shine in his amusement, “it had crossed my mind. The customer is persistent in becoming involved in my personal affairs, although he keeps pushing me to marry his granddaughter, so I must apologise to you, Elizabeth.” His eyes twinkled.

One corner of Hawkeye’s mouth quirked upwards as she lifted her menu to peruse the options.

Roy did the same but wasn’t interested in what he was seeing. Grumman had given them the menu beforehand and he’d already picked out his order. Instead, Roy’s ears picked up the conversation behind him. Two socialites were discussing a latest chihuahua purchase, something unimportant to the case.

Hawkeye moved one hand to rest upon the table, tapping her index finger twice, then pausing as she pretended to scrutinise the very expensive food on offer to them tonight. The two taps encouraged him to listen in on what was going on around them, but he’d already determined there was nothing of importance. Nothing they were looking for anyway. Besides, his mind was far too preoccupied with the lovely lady beside him. He should focus on his work, but it was difficult when Riza Hawkeye was dressed up to the nines and looking gorgeous. Oh, how unfortunate it was, that Fuhrer Grumman had ‘forced’ them to play the part of two lovers tonight. It was such a damn shame.

At least Grumman was paying for this. Deciding to splash out, Roy would order the most expensive steak. That would teach the old coot for trying to push him and his subordinate together.

“Hmm…” Her hum diverted Roy’s attention away from the menu immediately. “I suppose…” Her menu closed and she smiled softly at him. “No offence taken, Roy. I completely understand. Old people can be very persistent and persuasive,” she smirked, placing her menu back down on the table. Like him, she’d already picked out her food for the evening.

“They can,” he smirked, leaning in close to his ‘date’, as if he were making a quiet comment to her. His mouth so was close to her ear that Roy was sure he saw Riza shiver. “Nothing to the right,” he murmured.

“I agree,” she smirked as he pulled away. “At three o’clock tomorrow,” Hawkeye began, and Roy automatically glanced out he booth, looking towards the door of the restaurant, “we should hear an answer back about meeting up with him for lunch.”

“Noted, Elizabeth. I’ll keep an ear out for the door.” His reply was smooth as he noted the presence of the man they were supposed to be tailing. He approached the bar with his entourage and ordered a drink. His group consisted of two guards who scanned the low-lit bar as their boss viewed the menu.

“Should I make a play for it sooner? If I do, I might get an answer quicker.”

“No,” Roy shook his head, “and let’s leave shop talk for now. Dinner first,” he grinned, ecstatic at the chance to sit down and have a meal with her in such a romantic setting. It was like a dream come true. “After we’ve ate, we can make a decision about tomorrow.”

Hawkeye nodded in agreement and sat back in her chair. A quiet sigh left her as she turned her head to look out at the rest of the restaurant.

Roy couldn’t help but admire her profile as she did. Riza Hawkeye was captivating even in her military uniform, so when she was dressed up in a floor length, forest green gown, he was dazzled by her. Roy’s eyes never strayed far from her. He couldn’t look away and never wanted to. She was as radiant as ever, but the way wisps of her hair trailed down the elegant column of her neck were tantalizing. What he wouldn’t give to caress the skin of her face with his thumb, or tangle his hands in her beautifully tied back, made up hair –

“I was thinking,” Hawkeye murmured, eyes still scanning the bar carelessly, as if she were simply waiting to catch the eye of their waiter, “three o’clock may be too early tomorrow. How about five?” Her head turned to await his answer, and Roy snapped out of his thoughts.

“Five is good,” he replied, clearing his throat. Glancing slightly to his right, he noted their target had sat down at a table which remained in their view. That was good. They could watch him all night if they had to. “Five is perfect,” he smiled at her.

“Good.” Shifting in her chair, her foot brushed up against his shin and it was Roy’s turn to shudder. He’d taken delight in the reaction he’d drawn from Riza earlier when he’d whispered in her ear, and it was a similar feeling when she did the same to him. Smirking to himself, Roy wondered if this would become a game for the night. It was torture. They weren’t able to act on it personally, but they had to play the part they were given by the Fuhrer, didn’t they? A little kiss here and there wouldn’t go amiss. Roy bristled with excitement at the thought. They could be them for a change. They wouldn’t have to hide.

Dinner was ordered and it was divine. Because of their positions in the booth Roy was the one to keep an eye on their target as they ate. It was incredibly difficult because his attention was constantly drawn back to Riza next to him, but he managed. They discussed mundane things as they ate, but Roy thought it was absolutely wonderful. What he wouldn’t give to converse with her like this every time they met. Discussing the weather and what their plans were for dinner the rest of the week. What parks she liked to frequent in her spare time with Hayate and what dramas she enjoyed listening to at night on the radio. They didn’t have the proper time at work to devote to such topics, and Roy was hooked on her every word.

After their plates were cleared, their target made his move.

“On the move,” Roy muttered lowly. He leaned in close, speaking into her ear. Her breath caught in her throat and Roy was overcome with such strong desire that he couldn’t help himself. He pressed his lips gently to her cheek. Her skin was soft, and the faint scent of lavender filled his nostrils from her shampoo. A trailing strand of her hair tickled his nose and he wrinkled it to shift the pleasant irritation.

Pulling away, he was unapologetic as he stared into her eyes. He widened them slightly, trying to convey a message. Be careful. Because now that their target was on the move, it would be Hawkeye’s turn to step up. She’d tail their target and make a move on them.

Riza’s lips parted in anticipation and she didn’t move like Roy expected her to. His kiss had thrown her off, and while that delighted him it also halted her progress and her mission. For the briefest of seconds, Roy didn’t care. All that mattered to him, all that made his heart pound inside his ribcage, was that Riza was rendered mute and had been affected by the kiss he’d pressed on upon her cheek.

“Be safe,” he murmured. He held her gaze, not looking away until she responded to his request.

“I will,” she breathed. Her face leaned closer to his and Roy inhaled sharply, but she simply scooted herself out the booth and stood, grabbing her purse as she left. But not before Roy caught the light dusting of pink on her cheeks. He sat back, feeling whole and content. Even though they had work to do and goals to achieve, it was enough to see that colour in her cheeks and to feel her skin beneath his lips.

Ten minutes passed and Roy became antsier by the second. He sucked up the water left by the ice in his glass and slipped out he booth. He tossed enough cash on the table to cover the bill and a generous tip before making his way to the back of the restaurant.

Taking the stairs down into the basement and entering the second door on the left like he’d been directed to, Roy came upon the target’s secret poker game. Hawkeye was there beside him, a hand placed upon his shoulder as she smirked at his hand. Her chin was almost on his shoulder too, her other hand hidden underneath the table. No doubt it was resting upon his thigh, and the thought made Roy’s jaw clench tightly. She played her part beautifully, cosying up to the target, but Roy didn’t like the idea of throwing her to the wolves like this. Whether he loved her or not, the proposition had never sat well with him.

“This is a private game, Sir,” a member of staff explained, their tone bored.

“I know,” he bit out.

“This your lady?” Their target’s voice boomed inside the small room. His smile showed off his teeth.

Hawkeye quickly glanced over at Roy, seemingly unbothered by his interruption. However, Roy picked up the warning look from her. He must have looked furious, because her expression faltered, and she frowned at him.

“I seem to have borrowed your lady for the night then.” Their target’s eyes reminded Roy of a shark as he stared straight into them. “I hope you don’t mind,” he smirked. It was a dangerous smile and he placed a hand possessively on Hawkeye’s ass, making a show of it as he threw his arm around her back.

Roy saw red. His body tensed and his hand dived into his pocket for his ignition glove, but Hawkeye beat him to it. She slammed the palm of her hand into the target’s chin, hard. His neck gave a sickening crunch as she jerked it roughly and slipped out of the chair, drawing her gun. Roy still lifted a hand, poised to snap, and eyes blazing in warning as he stared the man down.

The target cursed loudly, shooting Hawkeye a glare as he clutched his neck then his chin. “You bitch,” he growled.

“Keep your hands off me next time,” she snarled, levelling her weapon.

A gunshot rang out and Roy ducked instinctively. His chest tightened, restricting his ability to breathe when he saw Hawkeye fall to the ground.

“Riza!” he called out. It was wrenched from his chest, dropping all professionalism as panic consumed his entire being. Every muscle fibre was locked in shock, unable to move as her body hit the floor hard.

Within a second, she rolled over and levelled her gun once more, returning the bullet to the man who’d shot her. With a face like thunder, she hit his shoulder and he dropped his weapon as he cried out in pain.

Their target shoved their chair back roughly, fleeing from the room with his other bodyguard behind him.

“Ri – Hawkeye,” Roy correct himself as he sprinted over to her. Everyone else at the poker game had either yelled and bolted, or had their hands in the air, their faces alarmed and worried. Roy didn’t care. He only had eyes for his downed Lieutenant.

“Go,” she urged, shoving his shoulder roughly.

Roy tipped to the side, off balance, as he took in her face. Sweat was apparent and a droplet dripped down her temple as she gritted her teeth against the pain. Blood was flooding the skirt of her dress from a tear on the side of her leg. The bastard had shot her in the leg.

“Roy, go.” She glared at him, shifting her weight so her injured leg was spread out in front of her, the other bent underneath her body. “Go and get him. Focus,” she commanded. Her sharp tone had gotten through to him. However, Roy still debated leaving her for a second. Looking into her eyes, Riza conveyed she was all right, and that he still had a job to do.

Heart in his throat, Roy rose from his crouch and sprinted out of the room. Following the sound of a door slamming, Roy followed the man into the alley behind the restaurant. As soon as he was out the door, Roy was tackled to the ground by the bodyguard. He didn’t even have a chance to see his approach. With a pained grunt, he hit the ground hard and clawed at the man’s back. Luckily, the bodyguard’s head was low enough on Roy’s torso that he was able to hit his fist against the back of the man’s neck, causing him loosen his grip. Sliding out from underneath the stunned bodyguard, Roy surged to his feet and tackled their target, who had been fumbling with his keys, trying to enter his car to get to safety.

An elbow hit Roy’s jaw in response to his troubles. He reeled backwards, clutching it. Blinking against the stars in his vision, Roy tried to clear it as best he could before another blow landed, but he needn’t have worried. Their target was still trying to get inside his vehicle.

A shot from behind Roy rang out and for the second time that night, and he jumped and ducked. Spinning in his crouch, losing his balance, Roy spotted Riza leaning heavily against the doorframe behind him. Her face was furious, but her gun was steady after she fired. Their target slumped over with a cry and Roy rushed to restrain him.

“Are there any others?” Roy barked his question, pulling the bigger man’s arms tightly behind him as he still tried to blink dots from his vision.

It wasn’t enough though. Roy was tossed off his back and to the side as the taller man bucked underneath him. The man unsheathed a knife and swung wildly. The tip of the blade just caught Roy’s cheek as he backed off as far as he could. It wasn’t far enough though, and the wound smarted. He hissed loudly and he lifted a hand to cover it, clambering to his feet. Lifting a hand, Roy snapped and ignited the man’s jacket. Just enough to distract and stop him from swinging the knife.

As he patted down the flames frantically, Roy snapped again, removing them completely before he grabbed the target again. This time, Roy fumbled the handcuffs from his jacket first and cuffed his hands together. Falling off their target as he bucked angrily, Roy covered his injured cheek and watched, his heart rate sky high from the adrenaline coursing through his body.

Sitting down heavily, Roy caught his breath. They’d apprehended their target.

Then, the events of the last few minutes caught up with him. Spinning on the ground, he rose to his feet and hurried over to Riza.

“Hawkeye.”

She looked worse for wear but still coherent and able to stand when he reached her.

Giving him a tired nod, she answered his unspoken question. “I’m okay.” Her frame was shaking.

“Here,” he murmured. Roy gripped her wrist to lift it over his shoulders. He kept a tight hold as he wrapped the other arm around her back to assist her with walking. Roy led Riza over to a storage crate in the alley. “Take a seat.”

“Thanks.”

Roy lowered to a crouch and cupped her cheek, lifting her head so that she was eye to eye with him. He scanned her whisky eyes, trying to find anything wrong with her, but she just looked drained. He needed to get her to the hospital as soon as possible, but she seemed to be okay at the moment.

“Your cheek,” she breathed.

Roy shook his head. “It’s nothing. How’s that leg.”

Riza shrugged. “Seems to have clipped the edge. It’s just an abrasion.”

He bit his lip, looking over his shoulder. Their target was face down and still, but his back was rising with his breath. “I don’t want to –”

“Go get the MPs,” she finished for him. A soft smile graced her exhausted features. “I’ll be fine.” She waved her gun in her hands as if that were the answer to all, but Roy still didn’t like it.

Biting the bullet, he rose from his crouch, but cupped her cheek once more. His lips were pressed against the top of her head, hard. “I’ll be right back,” he whispered into her hair before he rushed off. She might kill him for it, but Roy didn’t care. He needed to let her know that he wasn’t leaving her alone, injured, by choice. He wanted her to know he was there for her, no matter what would happen now.

*          *          *

A knock on her apartment door had Riza limping to her door. Hayate was hot on her heels, a low growl emitting from his throat, which quickly turned into an excited whine.

“Sir,” she greeted in surprise, blinking at the Colonel after opening the door.

“Hey,” he greeted with a smile. “I came by to see how you were doing, Lieutenant.”

“I’m okay. Would you like to come in?”

He was torn, she could see that much. “I was actually just passing by. I have dinner with my mother soon.”

His mother’s bar was in the opposite direction of her apartment, and Roy knew that Riza was well aware of that. She was touched he’d decided to check up on her anyway. It was a relief to see him up and walking as well. The cut on his cheek had been superficial and had healed nicely, but Riza hadn’t seen him since the unexpected shootout two days ago.

She’d been treated for the wound on her leg, completely superficial as well, the doctor said, reassuring her it looked worse than it was. It had clipped the edge of her skin, not actually entering her body at all. Riza had been in the hospital overnight then sent home with strict order to stay off her feet over the weekend and return if the pain got any worse. Temptation had played with her, whispering to her to call Roy or ask at the hospital where the Colonel was, but she’d resisted. If he could visit, he would. After the kiss he’d pressed against her cheek in the restaurant, and then into her hair in that alley, Riza knew for sure that was the case. Her skin tingled at the memory of it even now. It would have been reassuring to see he was safe in person, rather than hearing it from word of mouth, but at least Roy was here now.

“Oh, okay.”

“Any other time, yes,” he reassured her. “You know what she can be like if she’s kept waiting,” he chuckled.

Riza smiled. “I do. Not a problem, Sir. Another time,” she agreed.

He nodded, bobbing his head twice. “I had fun that night, Lieutenant,” Roy told her, a crooked grin on his face, hands shoved low into his pockets. “It makes me want to do it again sometime.”

Riza smiled softly, more than ready to agree with him, but unfortunately couldn’t. “We –”

“Can’t,” Roy finished for her, with an apologetic smile. “I know.”

“I had fun too though,” she admitted, expression softening. She’d absolutely loved getting the chance to spend the time with him in the way she’d always wanted to, but never would be able to.

“Well…” He shifted his stance and cleared his throat. “I just wanted to stop by and see for myself that you were all right.”

“The feeling is mutual, Sir. I’m glad you’re well.”

“See you at work on Monday?” He’d partially turned away from her apartment door, preparing to leave.

Riza leaned against the door itself, letting it take her weight and easing the pressure on her leg. “Of course, Sir.”

With a quick grin he bid her goodbye. “Have a nice evening, Lieutenant.”

“You too, sir.”

The pair smiled to themselves as they turned away, Riza closing her door and Roy walking away with an extra bounce in his step.

[wolf-555-writer]

Heating Up Part 3

Still owed you guys this one. Sorry it took, like, a little while. Hope you enjoy though! :) 

Read part 1; part 2

Caitlin Snow/Killer Frost x Meta Reader

Summary: Reader gets captured. Will you be able to survive and free yourself? While also searching for the others and trying to escape?

Word Count: 2,717

It's cold all around. Curled up, eyes pinched shut and arms covering your head defensively. You prepare yourself for impact. The impact of sharp, icy air, so cold it instantly freezes everything it touches. Generated by one Killer Frost. Normally, it wouldn't be such a problem. But you're not able to control your 'heat’ powers right now. Is it due to all the adrenaline making you shaky? Or because you're frightened as hell? Or because you let your guard down around KF, thinking you noticed something blossoming between you two?

You don't know. It doesn't matter what the exact reason is anyway, considering in a couple of seconds it will all be over...

Yet... Nothing happens. Did she miss?

“What the hell are you doing?! Let's go!”, you perceive, slowly opening your eyelids and removing your arms away from your face. Frost has grabbed you and pulls you with her. Still able to peak over your shoulder, you notice a guy knocked out cold on the dirty ground. A nasty scar on his face and one fake eye. So, she didn't aim at you but at that guy? 

“Wait- What just happened?! Who was that?”, you exclaim in total confusion as KF drags you with her, sensing her cold hand on your arm through your jacket. I’ve never been so unfocused before. You didn't even hear the guy approaching, having absolutely no clue what just went down. 

Moving towards a better lit hallway, Frost starts to explain that they (Caitlin and herself) started to work for someone real shady after leaving Central City. “It got out of hand and Caitlin reached out to ask for help. I told her I could handle it on my own, but Caitlin wouldn’t listen. And now look where it got us…”. She sighs and rolls her eyes. “Barry and Cisco both captured by our employer. Idiots”. You look at her hand and back to her. “Um… Frost, you're still, like, holding me”.

She scoffs, “I know that!”, and quickly lets go. She continues: “First we have to free Barry and Cisco. Unfortunately. Got it?”

“Yes, loud and clear”. This is not the Killer Frost you briefly met in the cold, misty woods months ago. The Killer Frost that had attacked her ‘friends’ with real rage and aggression. Angry at them and angry at the entire world around her.

She has changed.  

“And what was that thing Caitlin wanted to ask me?”, you remember, returning to the unanswered question from before the sudden ice blast. Maybe there’s a reason Caitlin didn’t ask for my help earlier at STAR Labs. Clearly made visible by the event that had just happened. You’d only be a burden. Besides, why would she choose you over The Flash anyway?

“Oh, that. She first wanted to ask for your help only. But Caity was embarrassed about the shit mess we got ourselves into”. These words make you feel happy but also slightly disappointed. She obviously could have asked you. Out of everybody, you were the last person to judge her.

“You should know, she kind of likes y-”, Frost interrupts herself. “Shhh, quiet”, she snaps at you. But… you weren't even talking? 

Both hide behind a large crate now that two suspicious men are approaching. “Can you use your powers?”, KF whispers at you, observing the guys. “No, not from this distance. But I can still fight them you know”. “I bet you can”, she answers while scanning your figure briefly.

Having decided each would take out one, Frost dives from behind the crates and attacks. You do the same and swiftly jump on the other. Creating enough momentum, you throw him over your shoulder and finish up with a high-speed elbow in his face, sending him to sleep for a nice couple of hours. Standing up again, you see KF nod at you with a grin on her face. “Impressive, (Y/N)”

Other thugs follow from the middle entrance. But this time with guns. Killer Frost pushes you away in time, both her hands placed on your chest firmly. The bullets are fired at the spot you were standing seconds when Frost harshly pins you to the wall. Her cold body is pressed against your warm one due the force she used. Warmer than usual… You heat up as her blue lips are close to your red ones. Noticing a teasing look starting to appear on KF's face when she bites her lip. Both staring into each other's eyes and Frost slowly leans in. Then you snap out of it. She has already pulled back and is currently attacking the men with weapons that are not freeze-proof, just as the men. Lucky for Killer Frost.

She knocks them out with a powerful cold blast. Too easy. And finishes by sending a daring wink your way. Impressed by the work she just delivered, Frost gives herself an imaginary pat on the back while eyeing that cute firefighter who’s with her. Who’s actually looking back at her with a rather strange expression...

“Watch out!”, you yell, sprinting towards a distracted Killer Frost, “Behind you!”. But you’re too late. Someone ambushed her. KF is now on the ground and you throw yourself in front of the guy. Anger fueling your body, you knock him out with a combo of three powerful punches and his body hits the ground with a dull thud. 

Rushing towards Frost and you take her in your arms. Her hair slowly turns into hazel brown, lips from blue to red, yet her eyes remain closed. She’s turning back into Caitlin. Set in motion by you. 

“No… Not now…”, you grunt. Your powers are unwillingly emerging again. Great timing. 

Suddenly an electrifying pain shoots through your body, originating from the back of your head. You instantly lose consciousness and black out, still holding Caitlin tight.

///

Waking up with a pounding in your head as if a hammer is hitting the inside of your skull. You cautiously open your eyes and vaguely see the silhouette of a woman. Caitlin. Her beautiful brown eyes staring at you... with a pretty concerned look. Why?

“Can you sit upright?”, she asks with an anxious voice. Carefully doing what Caitlin says, you notice that she’s wearing power dampening cuffs. Yet, you are not. They don't know your powers? Gotta admit you're not as obvious as Barry or Cisco. Perks of not having a superhero-suit, you guess. Your hands are tied though. Turning your head around to take in the surroundings that is an old, dark holding-cell. A hundred percent certain you’re still in the same building as earlier, because the smell is definitely the same.

“How are you feeling?”, Caitlin continues, now next to you with one hand on your shoulder. “I-I don’t know, maybe... a little light-headed?”. Wait- you remember. You got struck from behind with an awfully hard object. Probably got a head wound or something, hence the killer headache. You try to reach the back of your head with bound hands to inspect the injury. Man… your head is really pounding like crazy. Not surprised when you view your hands only to discover they’ve turned red. Blood.

Great. This really is the last thing you need above all the other mistakes of today...

Sensing you’re slipping away, you hear Caitlin again. “(Y/N)! Stay awake, we have to get out of here!”, she says, slightly panicking. 

“I-I… yeah, well, what do you want me to do?”, you return a bit slurring, staring into Caitlins worrisome eyes.

“Come on, let me help you up”. Weakly, you put your tied arms around Caitlin so she can support you. Both hobble toward the metal bars that confine you from leaving.

“I was thinking, maybe you could heat up the metal, so that it becomes deformable?”, she suggests with a thoughtful, calm tone.

“I-I can try”. You hesitate. Are you able to use your powers? Especially now that you’re wounded? It’s already hard to fully concentrate on a task, let alone melting a rigid material like metal. You slowly grab the bars, clenching them tight, trying to focus. Eyes closed, you can feel the iron in the palms of your hands. Heat up. 

Just heat up!

Nothing happens. The metal remains cold and inflexible. Not even remotely able to bend it in the current state. It’s not working. You open your eyes and turn to Caitlin. “It- it’s… nothing…”, stuttering as you lose all hope. You already messed everything else up today, so why did you expect this would even work? It’s useless. You’re useless. Now I understand why Caitlin didn’t ask for my help…

“No, don’t give up”. A warm hand is placed on your shoulder, squeezing you lightly. “You can do this (Y/N). I know you can”, words spoken with the most tender voice you’ve ever heard. “I believe in you”, Caitlin eases, “I trust you”. You nod slightly, feeling every word she just said when an intense warmth ripples through your body. You close your eyes once again. Inhaling deeply and focusing on the rusted metal in front of you. Exhale. Concentrating on the infinitely many iron molecules packed inside the rods. Inhale again. Blocking everything else around. And exhale. You sense the structure changing. Slowly. Softening. Shifting. And moving.  

The metal is heating up, finally, and bent into a shape just wide enough for a person to fit through. But it cost a lot of effort, considering you're badly wounded. You almost fainted, but Caitlin managed to catch you before you dropped down. Quickly escaping, you don’t even notice you’re moving and start to slip away again. Feeling a wave of nauseousness hitting you, probably also having a concussion caused by the forceful blow on your head. But you have to keep holding on, as Caitlin keeps repeating.

With blurry sight you make out a person in the distance who’s wearing a bright red suit. And wearing power dampening cuffs. It’s Barry, with next to him Cisco, also cuffed. 

“Caitlin!”, you hear them shout in unison, now feeling loss of contact with the woman supporting you. Carefully placing you in front of the cell where Barry and Cisco are held captive, she kneels down in front of you. You sense her soft hand touching your cheek.

“Try to keep your eyes open for me”, she whispers at you, “okay?”. Skin feeling cold again now that she let go. In fact, your whole body starts to feel cold. You hear Cisco instructing Caitlin to grab something, but his exact words remain a mystery to you. Maybe he knows how to take off the high-tech cuffs. Or at least you’re hoping he knows how to unlock those, because you’re in no state of freeing them too, which leaves the team trapped inside this building still. Or worse... 

“We have to get out of here! Stay with me (Y/N)”. You faintly perceive Caitlin’s words, along with the sound of several heavy footsteps approaching. But you’re slipping away again and your eyelids become heavy. Maybe... just close my eyes for a few secon-

Losing consciousness, you’re not able to hear the angry cursing and shouting along with the distressed voices of your friends anymore.

///

A headache. The worst you have ever had. Ugh, my head feels as if it's been used as a basketball... Hold on, you have to wake up. Now. You’re still in danger, as are Barry, Cisco and Caitlin. You open your eyes but shut them again, caused by the way too intense light inside… Wait-

STAR Labs?

Opening your eyes with more caution now, you catch the silhouette of Caitlin, back turned towards you, busy with some medical equipment on a steel table placed against the wall. You want to sit upright, yet all that happens is an agonizing groan escaping your mouth.

“Easy, easy”. Alerted by the discomforting sound behind her, Caitlin promptly moves to the bedside to stop you. “You have a bad concussion”. You anxiously reach for your head and feel it's bandaged up. “Relax, (Y/N). We’re safe now, alright?”, Caitlin eases. As a reaction to your disoriented state, she takes your hands in a soft grip to put them down again. “And I also took care of the wound on the back of your head. You’re gonna be fine”

“Thanks”, you say with a husky voice. Suddenly feeling guilty about passing out before the danger had passed. Before everyone was safe. Much help you provided there.

“No, thank you. You saved us”. She smiles sheepishly and glances at the floor. “You saved me. Again”

“No problem, really”, you answer right away and lock eyes with her, “I said I would always be there to help if you needed any. And I meant it”. Her smile turns into a brighter one, making her brown eyes glint in the still too intense light.

“Um, Caitlin…”, you motion with your eyes down, “you’re still, like, holding my hand”. She blushes a little and replies, “I know”. 

By now the others of team Flash have noticed you’re awake and quickly join around the bed. Iris asks how you’re feeling, glad that she called you in to help, but was also concerned when she saw your gaping head-wound when The Flash carried you into The Cortex. Cisco thanks you, and is already discussing potential suit designs with functions you probably won’t be needing. Barry just gives a curt nod, probably pissed he got captured in the first place. Then they all turn to Caitlin because Cisco has asked the question of which they’re all dying to know the answer to. Has she decided what to do now?

“Well…”, Caitlin begins with a thoughtful look, “I think I’ll stay for now. I’ve missed you guys. Missed my family”, she says while looking at the team. But does that include you? Where do I fit in?

As if Iris can read thoughts, she suddenly interrupts. “I think (Y/N) needs some rest first”, she says with raised eyebrows aimed at you. Is there some secret communication going on you’re unaware of? “So we’ll leave you to it, right guys”, Iris continues and takes Cisco and Barry with her, basically dragging the naive boys far enough away. 

Caitlin is the last to leave. She stands up and wants to let go of your hand which she was still holding. Yet, you don’t let her. “Wait, Caitlin-”

“Yes?”, she returns expectantly. Perhaps you did pick up on what Iris was trying to tell you after all.  

“Is Team Flash the only reason you decided to stay?”, you ask carefully. She stares at you for a second and answers, “Well, yes”.

“Oh...”, you mutter and avert your gaze to the floor, more than disappointed. 

However, Caitlin wasn’t done and speaks again, “Because apparently there’s this new member on the team”. You glance back at her.

“Maybe I’d like to get to know this person better”, she suggests. Is that so, you think, staying quiet and patiently waiting for the rest. “A firefighter, with heating powers”.

“Sounds like a good match”, you say with a suggestive tone, “Heat and Cold. Completing one another”.

Before you know it you’ve asked the question that has been occupying your mind for a while now, under the heavy frustration of Iris.

“You wanna grab a coffee at Jitters sometime?”. “Sounds like a date”, she answers with a soft smile, “But first you need to rest”.

Imitating a voice as if following an order, you say, “Yes, I shall rest, Dr. Snow”, when she places a soft kiss on the back of your hand before slowly letting go. Her warm touch imprinted on your skin, you watch her leave until she is out of sight.

Now all alone, you suddenly feel yourself heating up. You close your eyes and immediately fall asleep because you’re so exhausted by everything that has happened today. A warmth ripples through your body, exhausted, yes, but also happy. Drifting away in a peaceful, dreamy sleep...

The smell of fresh coffee beans and the sound of soft chatter from people enjoying a cup or two fills the cozy place. Waiting for a special someone, you’re seated on a couch way too large for one person and gaze at the entrance when the door swings open...

[gusu-emilu]

Cantatio: Chapter Six

Ship: Lan Zhan / Wei Ying (POV Lan Zhan)

Summary: Lan Zhan fumbles through an attempt to explain himself to Wen Qing. Later, Wei Ying does something shocking during detention in the library.

Cloud Recesses Academy AU, Rated T - read on AO3

< Ch. 5 | Ch. 7 > | chapter list

“You will not speak a word to anyone about what you saw last night,” Wen Qing said.

Lan Wangji nodded compliantly. He had to tilt his head down to make eye contact with her, but the advantage of height did not offer much assurance against her sharp tongue.

Wen Qing pursed her lips and drew in a slow breath. A question hovered in the air between them like an arrow she was about to shoot into Lan Wangji’s skull. He waited for it with a twinge of unease, ready to recoil internally.

“Why were you in my room?” she demanded.

“I do not know.”

“Well, there must have been some reason you walked in.”

“I did not walk in.”

Wen Qing cocked an eyebrow and said with biting sarcasm, “So I suppose you teleported, then?”

Lan Wangji scanned the area around them. The other disciples paced leisurely through the clearing. A few stood in pods underneath the terraced walkway that led to the central part of the Cloud Recesses. Some were telling stories with extravagant hand gestures, others were speaking quietly with dignified nods. Snippets of their dialogue such as ‘moustache’ and ‘beetle monster’ and ‘scared of Madam Yu’ reached Lan Wangji’s ears. As he had hoped, everyone was immersed in their own business.

“Yes.”

“Yes?”

Lan Wangji inclined his head.

“You’re telling me you teleported into my room.”

“Mn.”

“I’m surprised, Second Young Master Lan. You don’t strike me as the type to crack jokes—especially not ill-placed ones. At least you aren’t as tactless as Wei Wuxian.”

Irritation filled Lan Wangji at the reminder of his heart plummeting in fright at the trick Wei Wuxian played. “I am truthful.”

Wen Qing shook her head in defeat. “I can’t have a reasonable conversation with anyone around here,” she said, more so to herself than to Lan Wangji.

Lan Wangji was caught off guard by the sadness hidden in her voice. He searched her face for some explanation, but soon arrived at one himself.

Even if Wen Qing’s place in the Wen Clan put her at odds with the rest of the cultivation world, she was still just a girl. Although she had a close bond with her brother, she didn’t seem to get along with Wen Chao—nor did Lan Wangji imagine she wanted to—and even her roommates regarded her with caution. If she were shrewd, as Lan Wangji perceived that she was, then she would not be quick to trust anyone here.

She was alone.

Deep within himself, Lan Wangji recognized a parallel between them. Both relied on their brothers for most of their social interaction. Both had frigid personalities that would already keep their peers at a distance, and deepening that gap were the reputations that preceded them: Wen Qing as an extension of all that was ruthless and unjust, and Lan Wangji as an aloof, stone-faced image of perfection. Lan Wangji did not believe either of these perceptions were true.

“I will converse with you.”

Wen Qing shot a bewildered look at Lan Wangji, like he was an unappealing suitor who had just proposed to her. Or perhaps she thought it was another vexatious joke. Lan Wangji was not very good at telling the difference.

She scoffed. “What is there to say?”

“I am sorry for intruding in your room. I was teleported there by a closet.”

“By a what?”

Lan Wangji blinked at her. He did not think he would get this far in the conversation.

“If you don’t explain to me, I’m going to assume you’re mocking me, and walk away.”

“In my dormitory, I heard your scream from within my closet. After I opened it, I was in your bedchambers.”

Wen Qing placed two fingers on her temple and squinted. “You expect me to believe this?”

His only answer was to watch her expectantly.

The levers cranked in her mind as she weighed how to respond. “Okay then. I’ll come to your room tonight and see for myself.”

A jolt of panic shook Lan Wangji.

Just as boys were not permitted to enter girls’ rooms at night, neither was the reverse acceptable. Lan Wangji was not about to break this rule two days in a row.

“It is prohibited.”

“Then I don’t believe you, and I don’t accept your apology.”

Lan Wangji frowned. It was understandable if Wen Qing did not believe this farcical story—he barely believed it himself—but he could already feel the gaping hole in his honor if she did not forgive his intrusion.

“The closet is locked. You cannot enter.”

“Oh, isn’t that convenient.”

Lan Wangji clicked his teeth together. He was becoming frustrated.

“I will research this topic and prove my honesty.”

“How? No one’s ever heard of a teleportation closet. And why would it connect to my room, of all places?”

As far as Lan Wangji knew, she was right. He stared at the ground in embarrassment, as if the tiny pebbles scattered through the grass had any chance of holding an answer.

He expected Wen Qing to walk away, but she stood there silently analyzing him.

“You know, if you stretch your imagination, the concept is kind of similar to a qiankun pouch,” Wen Qing said. Her tone was much gentler than before.

Again, she was right. A qiankun pouch was only slightly larger than a teacup, but it was charmed to hold an item of almost any size. It was possible that a closet portal could operate under similar principles.

Lan Wangji looked up and met Wen Qing’s measured, moonlike eyes.

“That’s where we’ll start, then,” she said. “I’ll meet you in the library after class. Oh, and by the way. I want to thank you again for fighting that beetle monster. And thanks for sticking up for my brother. He likes you.”

Without giving Lan Wangji a chance to answer, she whirled around and speeded away, her steps quick, graceful, and determined. It had only been there for a second, but Lan Wangji thought he had seen a soft smile on her face before she hid it from his view. She glided down the covered walkway to where Wen Ning waited for her.

Did that go well? Lan Wangji thought so, but he wasn’t completely sure.

“Second Young Master Lan,” said a frigid voice.

Lan Wangji turned. Song Lan stood a few paces away from him.

“Daozhang,” he said with a bow.

“The pixiu which you and Young Master Jin animated was one of the stronger samples. Good job.”

“Thank you, Daozhang.”

Despite the words of praise he had shared, Song Lan wore a frown on his chiseled yet delicate face. His grey eyes flicked around imperceptibly, studying Lan Wangji with a snowy calmness as if waiting for something.

Perhaps he sensed that Lan Wangji had a question.

“Daozhang, can a guardian spirit be animated without draining one’s energy?”

He paused in thought. “It is not unheard of, but it is neither common nor simple. It would only be successful on the most insignificant spirits.”

“How is it performed?”

Song Lan’s eyes shimmered. “It is not to be practiced.”

The itch of curiosity at the back of Lan Wangji’s throat morphed into a thirst for retribution. Yet he couldn’t bring himself to report Wei Wuxian by name.

“A disciple has.”

“Are you sure?”

Lan Wangji thinned his lips and looked down at the sunbathed grass.

He was not sure. He had an idea. But more than anything, he was just painfully curious.

“It is extremely unlikely,” Song Lan said. “I am sorry that I did not witness what transpired. I had been speaking to Young Master Jin Guangyao. Please excuse your professor’s inattentiveness.”

Lan Wangji remembered the moments during the lesson that Song Lan had stared at Jin Guangyao. Most high-ranking cultivators would have ignored a servant like Jin Guangyao. What had caught his interest?

“Leave this matter at rest for now.”

Lan Wangji bowed and departed from Song Lan’s class with many more questions than he had when he first arrived.

At least the library might help him answer some of them. Wen Qing would be there to help.

Unfortunately, they would not be the only ones in the library. Wei Wuxian would also be there for detention. And Lan Wangji had to supervise him.

Would he ever be able to escape from Wei Wuxian?

* * *

The rest of the day’s classes passed without nearly as much commotion as Ancient Texts or Beings & Creatures. Wen Chao had surpassed Wei Wuxian as the biggest troublemaker of the afternoon, but his self-entitled yapping and arrogant criticizing—albeit annoying—was ultimately harmless. He had only risen to the rank of teacher’s pest because Wei Wuxian had relinquished the title.

Wei Wuxian must have sensed that Lan Wangji was upset with him for the pixiu prank. He seemed to bite his tongue more often, canning his prior shamelessness and disruptiveness. As a result, Jiang Cheng’s face loosened so much that he looked a year younger, a remarkable feat for someone who was still a teenager.

In Madam Yu’s Alchemy & Medicine class, Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji were assigned to the same table. Their seats directly faced each other. Lan Wangji did not make eye contact once.

The class followed Madam Yu’s shrill orders to concoct a remedy for insomnia from ginseng and dragon-eye lychee. When Wei Wuxian turned to Jiang Cheng to ask for a handful of jujube seeds—"Use the ones in your kit, dumbass! These are mine!”—“They were in my kit this morning! I don’t know where they went!”—Madam Yu appeared behind Wei Wuxian to slap him in the back of the head. Spidery sparks escaped from her ring Zidian and made the boy’s hair stand on end with purple static. She announced that his grade would be lowered for missing ingredients.

For the entire class, Wei Wuxian stole concerned, furtive glances at the jade-like young man across from him.

Not that any of those things mattered to Lan Wangji.

The best class had been Swordsmanship & Weaponry with Jiang Fengmian and his graduate assistant Nie Mingjue. The two instructors guided the disciples in complementary fighting styles: one swift and calculated, one forceful and explosive.

Lan Wangji was grateful that they practiced a round of actual sparring instead of being limited to solitary drills. A spirited battle with Jiang Cheng allowed Lan Wangji to release some of the anger bottled inside him. Jiang Cheng let out some demon of his own.

At the end of their match, the two nodded to each other with hesitant respect. Not the respect of acquaintances or rivals, but the respect of two troubled souls who shared similar sources of distress, and who mutually decided to pretend that they didn’t recognize this in each other.

Having channeled his frustration into a structured activity, Lan Wangji felt clean and refreshed, like the crystal-clear water of the creek that babbled along the perimeter of the Cloud Recesses.

Now it was off to the library for detention.

When Lan Wangji arrived in the circular library chamber, there was no one there. He guessed that Wei Wuxian was romping around with his friends, delaying his punishment, and would not show up for a while. Unprofessional.

Then Lan Wangji would enjoy the quiet while it lasted.

In the center of the library was a semicircular platform. Atop the platform was a low, long desk, and at its back were towering tan panels bordered with rich wood and pressed against cubby shelves of books and scrolls. The outline of the room contained smaller desks at evenly spaced intervals, each equipped with calligraphy pens, an ink well, a waxy candle, and a bronze incense burner.

More shelves lined the walls and were filled with countless tomes, some with bold titles that proclaimed their subject matter across the room, some with their colors fading from their bindings. In bright sections underneath the tall windows, the dark brown floor reflected fuzzy rectangles of blue light.

The air was heavy and a bit dusty. When Lan Wangji breathed in the thick scent, he could sense the ancient wisdom of the room’s contents that seeped into its cozy atmosphere.

Libraries never failed to put Lan Wangji at ease.

It was a pity that he would soon be disrupted.

He sifted through a row of books until he found two copies of the Gusu Lan Clan rules. Upon pulling them out, a pleasant musty smell danced across his nose. He placed one book on a desk on the far end of the room, another on the larger desk on the central platform, then sat down behind the latter. He straightened a sheet of parchment on the table, dipped a brush in the viscous black ink, and began copying the first page of the Gusu Lan Clan rules.

Take the straight path. Uphold the value of justice. Preserve your honor.

Intentionally or not, Lan Wangji had broken his code of honor by entering Wen Qing’s room and withholding information of the closet portal from his superiors. If no one would hold him accountable, he would do so himself.

It was a mere coincidence that this was the same punishment he had assigned to Wei Wuxian.

Footsteps scuffed at his right. “Erm. Hi, Lan Zhan.”

Wei Wuxian stood in the doorway of the library, his hand resting on the wall to his left. Like a gloomy figure against a miniature sky, he cast a shadow into the patch of hazy blue reflection on the dark floor.

Without looking up, Lan Wangji gestured impassively toward the desk that held the second copy of the Gusu Lan Clan rules, then returned to his writing.

Wei Wuxian walked over and kneeled behind the desk. His posture was stiff and meek.

"You know, I had only been planning to play a trick on Nie Huaisang. I hadn’t expected you to run over like that.”

The candle upon Lan Wangji’s table flickered with a soft crackle.

“You were worried about me…I should have thanked you, not scared you. I really appreciate that you came over. I seriously do.”

Lan Wangji’s lips twitched, but his brush strokes did not waver.

“I acted without thinking. I’m sorry.”

Something began to melt inside Lan Wangji like the wax of the candle.

How could he refuse a sincere apology?

“…Second Young Master Lan?”

He looked up.

“Wei Ying.”

A smile crept across Wei Wuxian’s face. The sound of his birth name immediately closed the distance between them, a tie that threaded the string of unspoken forgiveness.

Lan Wangji was shocked by how quickly it happened.

Something inside him had whispered, Do not call me Second Young Master Lan. You put us on a birth name basis. I like it and you cannot retract it.

Of course, those words came nowhere close to his lips.

Wei Wuxian leaned forward. “You have something to say, Lan Zhan?”

“Speaking is prohibited in the Cloud Recesses library. Begin copying.”

Wei Wuxian tossed his hands in the air, then let them thump down onto his thighs in exasperation. “Aiya, Lan Zhan!”

Lan Wangji raised his eyebrows.

“Fine, fine, I’ll get started.”

Several minutes passed. The silence was only interrupted by the swishing of horsehair brushes on smooth paper, the whistling of birds, and the distant calls of youthful voices.

Despite having ordered Wei Wuxian not to speak, Lan Wangji still waited for him to divulge how he had animated the pixiu in Song Lan’s class, like he promised he would share during detention. What if he really did use some forbidden technique?

But instead, Wei Wuxian said, “Lan Zhan, what are you writing?”

Lan Wangji’s only reply was to quicken the pace of his hand.

Wei Wuxian appeared at his side and peered over his shoulder. He held a single sheet of paper in front of his chest as if it were a flower he had picked. The side of the paper with writing was hidden from Lan Wangji.

“Are you…are you doing my punishment for me? Do you really love me that much?”

Lan Wangji clenched his jaw in alarm. He lifted his brush from the page to stop himself from smudging the character he was in the middle of writing.

“Lan Zhan, why are you copying the rules too?”

He turned to stare into Wei Wuxian’s dark silvery eyes, only to dart his gaze away after less than a second.

“It does not concern you. Sit down.”

“Wait, I have something to give you first!” He waved the parchment, still concealing the side with writing.

Wei Wuxian wanted him to see the single page he had copied? First of all, he should have completed five pages by now. Second of all, what was the reason for showing it off?

The sheet of porcelain-white paper floated onto Lan Wangji’s desk. It did not contain an array of messily written characters like he had expected.

It was a portrait.

Of himself.

* * *

Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed this chapter, you can be a supportive sibling like Jiang Yanli by liking, reblogging, and visiting me on AO3! New chapters posted every Monday on AO3 and Tuesday on Tumblr.

Ch. 7 > |  chapter list

[anika-ann]

Cold Feet

Type: One-shot, Reader Insert               Word count: 2643

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Characters: Steve Rogers, Reader

Summary: After two months of dating, you’ve come to a conclusion as exciting as well as a bit irritating: Steve Rogers is a perfect man. He simply has no flaw.

Or does he? 

Warnings:  all the fluff in the world, like one f-bomb and mentions of intercourse

After two months of dating, you came to a conclusion as exciting as well as a bit irritating: Steve Rogers was a perfect man. He simply had no flaw.

It was a little scary, really. Even your meeting was like something from a rom-com.

You had met him by chance when visiting your baby niece who wasn’t a baby anymore to be honest. She was five. But she would always be your baby niece, even when reaching 18, so that was irrelevant.

Your not-so-baby niece Karen had fallen off of monkey bars when playing on the playground and had broken her arm so skilfully that she needed to have surgery, hence staying in hospital for four days; there was no chance you would let her struggle through that without her favourite (read ‘only’) aunt by her side for even of those days.

And on the third day, fate pulled at some of its infamous strings.

As you hummed Karen’s momentarily favourite song under your breath, striding through the hospital halls with three different flavours (or rather colours) of Jell-O, wondering how else you could cheer your pouty cute niece, you rounded the corner.

Walking straight into the most perfect man of all men – as if ‘perfect’ wasn’t already a superlative.

“Whoa!”

The collision was hard, but the landing soft. Crushing into the wall of muscle would have sent you falling on your butt, but a swift hand secured you as it appeared under your shoulder blade, keeping you upright. Two plastic cups slipped from your fingers, landing in his palm covered in fingerless leather glove.

Your eyes snapped up to the face of a man with incredible fast reflexes and your heart jumped to your throat.

Holy shit he’s pretty.

“Sorry. Got it. You alright?”

I just fell in love with a voice. God, his eyes are blue— no, not pure cerulean blue, but holy mother of God, I’m drowning-

“Madam?”

Worry had his brows furrowing and you quickly jumped from his warm grip, gulping. He let you go, those goddamn eyes watching your every move as if he expected you to trip over your own feet, which was a valid concern, actually.

“Sir,” you blurted out in response instinctively at such addressing, your brain finally catching up with your mouth. You scanned him head to toe, realization slapping you in your face. Oh. OH. “Sir. Cap-captain. S-sir.”

You had crushed into Captain freaking America; he even had his shield on his back. You were so going to be deported. Oh boy, you hadn’t even apologized yet.

What the hell was he doing in child’s ward anyway? In a plain boring hospital?

You were proven wrong on your earlier evaluation when the corners of his lips rose, spreading his lips in a brilliant shy smile; he wasn’t pretty. He was prettier.

He wiggled the cups in his hand, holding them out for you. You took them wordlessly, too stunned and embarrassed to talk.

“And just for who these are?” he asked sweetly, genuine curiosity lacing his voice. “Daughter? Son?”

“Karen! I mean— my niece! They are for my niece. Whose name is Karen. I said that already,” you babbled, closing your eyes simultaneously with your mouth.

God, somebody shoot me. Or throw your shield at me, whatever.

Status: still hadn’t apologized to him.

Heavy footsteps had you opening your eyes, only to find the blonde Adonis in uniform still smiling at you, a sparkle in his eyes.

“Cap, you’re supposed to be cheering up kids, not the ladies, no matter how pretty they are,” a man – an Ironman, the Ironman, to be precise, Tony freaking Stark – grunted from behind the soldier, casting a smirk your way.

Now seriously, somebody shoot me, please.

You eyed the Captain, resisting the urge to bite your lip; thank heavens you weren’t the blushing type otherwise you’d be red everywhere. He only looked a bit annoyed with his colleague, his gaze fixed on you. The smile never left his face.

“Why not both?”

And that was it. That was how your life turned upside down, starting with shy smiles, lingering gazes, heart-warming date nights, hesitant hand-holding, tender kisses growing into daring making-out sessions. Comforting hugs, days dedicated to worrying over him coming from god-knew-where in one piece, few nights spent in the medical ward sitting by his bedside, sleep escaping you. Brain mostly on vacation, heart behind the steering wheel.

You were in love. You were so much in love with the amazing man that words didn’t seem like enough to express it. You spent the most amazing two months with him, having nothing – or nearly nothing – to complain about; because even after the rare sleepless night by his bedside, he would wrap you in affection and made you feel like everything was more than okay.

In every conclusion possible, Steve Rogers was perfect. Maybe way too perfect.

And it wasn’t that you felt like less – he showed his adoration for you so clearly you couldn’t but feel special despite being plain ol’ you, because he was perfect like that.

The first time you two made love – there was no calling it differently, because it had nothing to do with fucking and calling it sex might have been anatomically accurate but desperately lacking the sentiment – he nearly worshipped you. You enjoyed it immensely, returning the favour. It was a very long night and perhaps… few times the tender passion did blur the lines and shifted towards the f-word in the best possible way.

It was no wonder that when you woke up on your own after that first night together, checking the time and finding it was only seven a.m. on a Saturday morning, you scooted closer to feel Steve’s sleeping form. Head nestled on his chest (an absent grumble vibrating his ribcage at your disturbance of his dreams), arm sneaking over his waist (causing his own to pull you closer), feet tangling-

You yelped, jerking away from his body so fast you nearly tipped over the edge of your bed. Steve shot up into sitting position, instantly on alert, sharp gaze wiped away of sleepiness in a second, scanning the room for threats.

He clearly found none, settling his confused eyes on you, his shoulders relaxing.

“Whatzit?” he mumbled, narrowing his eyes as if examining you would tell him.

You stared right back at him, unable to form words.

Until you could.

“Your feet are freezing!” you accused him, horrified.

What the hell?! Steve was a walking space-heater. He always enveloped you in his arms when your teeth were clattering, because you wore a dress for a romantic walk through the frozen Central Park in attempt to please his sight. Sure, now his feet slipped from under the covers, sticking out of bed really, because he was freaking tall, but… what the hell?!

He blinked in confusion before an adorable blush coloured his cheeks, already red and creased from the pillow.

“Sorry for that.”

“Sorry for-“ you parroted, dumbstruck, your sleepy brain processing the sensory input of his toes fucking freezing against your feet very slowly. “Is that normal? Are you sick? Aren’t you- aren’t you supposed to be immune to all diseases?”

Steve was literally radiating embarrassment at that point, his fingers working on scrunching the sheets, his eyes glued them as if nothing else on this world mattered.

“I am immune. It’s just… I always had it like that.”

“But your hands are always so warm!” you protested. That usually was the combo, right? People had cold hands and feet, circulation shit – not that Steve had any problem with circulation last night--ugh.

Cold hands usually came together in a package deal with cold feet, period – hell, you knew it yourself on occasion. But Steve…?

Steve grimaced.

“I used you have them cold too,” he admitted, oblivious to the amazement that started to replace your surprise. Oh god. Oh boy. A miracle had happened! Steve Rogers actually had a- “The serum fixed it, but not… uh, not my feet. Usually it’s not an issue, when I’m on the move it’s fine, exercising and-“

He trailed off as if not knowing what else to say to his defence (as if he needed any). Teeth worrying over his lower lip, he glanced up at your face. A smile was spreading on your face and he possibly took it wrong way, because he groaned, falling flat on his back to the cushions and stole your pillow – only to hide his face in it and try to smother himself.

You giggled into your palm, delighted, and got up, your bare feet tapping with each step as you made your way to your cabinet. The choking noise coming from the bed at your action sounded suspiciously like Steve screaming into the pillow.

You contained more laughter, hesitating before making the final decision.

Screw it. You manipulated the item you had come for from the very back of your drawer, closing it gently and went to sit at the end of the bed by Steve’s feet which magically disappeared back under the covers. You reached for the hem of the blanket, but stopped, thinking twice.

“Do not kick me,” you warned him, sneaking your hand into the warmth and lifting the blanket, revealing the source of discussion. Steve honest to god whined – in embarrassment, you assumed – when you touched his left ankle.

You carefully lifted it and rolled one sock on. The soft sensation seemed to give Steve a pause and he peeked at you, rolling the pillow just enough to free his surprised eyes. He didn’t protest though, watching you as you put on the other sock as well with a compassionate smile. He hesitantly lost the pillow completely when you scooted over to sit at his waist.

He wiggled his toes in the fluffy colourful socks to examine them. He was adorable, more so wearing them.

“Thank- thank you,” he whispered, still slightly embarrassed, but not saying a word of complaint. “How are these my size?”

You cleared your throat, for the millionth time since you met him grateful you weren’t the blushing type.

"Because they were for you," you admitted sheepishly, earning a raised eyebrow as he once more looked over the striped red-white sock with a plush reindeer on outer side of his ankles. "As a cute and silly Christmas gift until... uhm, until I figured out the perfect one."

“Oh,” he let out intelligently, causing you to leave your nervousness behind. “Thanks.”

You giggled. “You’re welcome, Steve. They look great on you.”

Adorable. And what more, proving the incredible fact that you had been wrong about him. About him being absolutely perfect.

He pouted then, his eyes narrowing suspiciously. “You’re enjoying this too much. Why?”

Of course he would notice. You shrugged and stopped fighting the grin attacking your lips, not feeling like denying it.

"You... you actually have a fault," you announced cheerily, which took him aback greatly.

"I have plenty of those," he said matter-of-factly, propping himself on his elbow to be closer to you. You only shrugged again.  

"Possible.” Not quite. “But this... this is just a reminder of you being only human."

Steve tilted his head then, curious about your train of thought. It only proved your previous theory that wasn’t quite right now, not without that one exception; he was curious about you, always listening to what you had to say, patient listener even when you simply rambled.

"You've seen me hurt. That’s pretty human."

You scoffed, chasing the image of him, unconscious, cut, bloody and attached to a heart monitor, away from your mind momentarily.

"Oh, I did. I do not enjoy that despite seeing the wound literally closing in front on my eyes. You're not invincible, apparently,” you noted dryly, causing that little wrinkle to create on his forehead as the guilt for making your worry displayed. You bit your cheek before trying to explain how you felt about this ridiculous discovery about him. “But, you know... that's something... serum-related, Captain America related.”

Judging by the expression on his face, he was still not getting it. You sighed and pointed at the reindeers.

“This? This is personal... intimate somehow? Something I get to know, because I know you, I get to see the tiny flaw-“ you stopped in midsentence, realizing you were babbling more than usual and more importantly, wondering just how uncomfortable this had to make him.“Is it weird? Am I-- I'm being weird, aren't I? Shit. Sorry."

Steve’s nose crinkled at the bad word you used, but he let it pass without comment in favour of a more pressing matter. His face was kind as he opposed you swiftly.

"No! No, it's... I think I understand,” he assured you, something unfamiliar twinkling in his eyes. He smiled then, a soft curve of his lips. “And thank you. It works wonders. It’s… much better."

You only flashed him a brief smile, lowering your gaze. You took a deep breath, only partly comforted by his words. Steve would always let things slide easily, even when you crossed a line you shouldn’t have crossed, said or done something that wasn’t quite appropriate; when you were being your weird self.

It was your turn to fumble with the blanket, self-depreciated, wavering to make one more confession, admitting to your fear, once more oversharing.

"Okay. I’m glad. Uhm… I-- I wouldn't want you to get cold feet," you mumbled, not quite sure if you wanted him to read between the lines and consider cold feet more than bodily reaction to low temperature.

Silence fell on your bedroom, stretching for long enough to wreck your nerves. You clenched your jaw, forcing your fingers to stop moving, which only resulted in you gripping the sheets instead.

Looking down, you only caught a glimpse of Steve straightening, seating himself on his heels. The fingers of his right hand gently threaded into your locks, slipping to cup your cheek, forcing you to lift your chin and meet his gaze.

Steve always seemed too kind to you, appreciating you, cherishing you even, in ways you couldn’t quite comprehend; meeting his eyes now, you saw nothing but pure adoration and a hint of vulnerability, gratitude at your willingness to admit some of your fears.

He had caught the double meaning of your words, there was no doubting that. Seeing none of your timidity resolving, an amused spark twinkled in his eye. He patted his ankle pointedly with his free hand.

"Well, with warm socks like these...” he hummed, his face inching closer to yours as he held his gaze locked with yours. His thumb tenderly caressed your cheek, his lips finally close enough to brush yours for a passing second. Your eyes fluttered shut, revelling at the sensation. God, you were so, so lucky to have this man… “And with such beautiful and caring woman like yourself... how could I?"

You barely had time to sigh in relief when his mouth caught yours in another kiss, this time a proper one, morning breath be damned. His hand on you angled your jaw to deepen the kiss, the other sneaking around your waist and lower to urge you to sit on his lap. You weren’t hesitant to obey, rewarded by a content rumble deep in his chest and a tease of tongue.

Needless to say, the socks came off soon enough. After all, morning exercise would keep you both warm enough. Especially when performed in the bed sheets.

Later and later on, you would find a lot more flaws of Steve’s – involving unbearable stubbornness and recklessness, traits which you sometimes wanted to punch him for –, but this very first you had discovered would always feel special.

Steve never got cold feet ever again. On your wedding day, you were grateful for it more than ever.