#had to grab my inhaler from laughing man's praying to any god who can hear him there

[difeisheng]

"which does [di feisheng] love more: fighting or li xiangyi?"

subtitles by me :)

[slasherrabbitmadness]

Victorian DILF Brahms x Female Reader

Series: Don't forget who you belong to.

Chapter 2 - Give me your answer, do

Underthecut - NSFW, Male Masturbation, Oral - Male Receiving.

Brahms sat idly in his living room, leaning back in his large leather recliner. Feet shuffling along the Egyptian carpet, thumbs twiddling as he hums Daisy Bell by Harry Dacre,

"I'm half crazy, all for the love of you." He smiles as he thinks of her. How her hair shines in the sun, like a halo above her head. Her eyes sparkling whenever she laughs, how the corner of her eyes crinkles ever so slightly. How her smile makes his heart skip a beat.

Brahms sucks in a breath, his hum-singing continues, "There are bright lights the dazzling eyes of beautiful Daisy Bell." He sits up straight, eyes on the unlit fireplace, the gold gate held an ornate Chinese dog welded on the front. He looks above the fireplace to the mantel, the rows of photos in their ash wood frames.

His face is stern as he glances at a particular photo. He, a half-smile as his hand rests on his son's shoulder. Lawrence when he was a boy of eight. Lawrence's other shoulder had a delicate white hand upon it. Gerti, her lips dark with her favourite shade of lipstick, her slight freckles littered her face, her silky blonde hair up in a beautiful age-appropriate bun.

His hum-singing fades as he continues to stare, the family photo, the family in the photo appearing as sharp and elegant as their social standing. That day, Gerti had scolded him all morning, her eyes wide and glossy, her alabaster skin held a blue and yellow hue under her eyes. Her fingers were cold and clammy.

"For the love of everything, Brahms, hurry for once." Brahms flinches as he can still hear her screeching, "Lawrence, get the cat's paw out of your mouth and stop pulling its tail!" He chuckles,

"I miss that cat," Brahms laughs to himself. Never one for pets but how that scraggly little beast could make his son laugh in the most jovial way, warmed him greatly.

His amused grin falls as his eyes lock with Gerti's. Grabbing the photo, his thumb ghosts over her image, remembering how once soft her skin was. His stomach churns as a chill seeps into his bones, shaking him in his spot.

He places the family photo back on the mantle, right next to a photo of her. Her hands grasping each other, face tilted slightly, a timid smile upon her face. "Sir, I don't need my photo taken!"

"Y/n, as my employee of a year, you are practically family." Brahms let out a shaky breath as his mind replays the conversation. "And you may call me, Brahms. You address Gerti by her full name."

"Gerti and are intimate in ways that have allowed us to be close."

"Pray tell may I watch these intimate moments?" His cheeky reply had cost him an ear full from his wife when she had found out. Brahms still never understood why women used such charged words to describe a close friendship.

Brahms left the living room, a stirring in his gut had him heave. He wanted to call upon her for aid, 'Fetch me a water with some ice, and actually bring some black tea and one of our lemons from Italy.' he clears his throat at the thought of dryness being washed back by the cold refreshment.

He had given her a few hours a week for personal time. Free to be spent however she pleased. Ever since the death of his wife and Lawerence attending Rugby School for Boys she had more free time. Much to Brahms immense displeasure.

Brahms had taken to stalking her on her days off. Wanted to see what she got up to. Where she went and specifically with who. He would linger twenty feet behind, always darting behind stalls and other tall men to hide, he even took to wearing a coat that he kept hidden in hopes she would not recognize him further.

He stared in amazement at how well she helped an old lady onto the trolley all the while juggling her belongings, refusing a 'tip' "It's the nice thing to do." in reference to helping others.

His cheeks flushed whenever she stopped to smell the flowers, literally. A quaint smile as she turned down the offer for a free one from the vendor. She often stopped to sniff the white and yellow flowers. He had noticed Daisys were her favorite.

He seethed when one day you were stopped by a handsome Youngman, his tall lean frame stood confidently as his dark brown eyes held a softness as they looked down at you. He had overheard the name in a distinctly American accent, "Dan, yeah I'm studying medicine with my colleague, I'd introduce you but..." He hated that you always walked near the campus, hated all the young men eager, too eager to chat up a single young lady.

Dan had never gotten farther than chaste conversations and one quick feather-light kiss on her cheek.

Brahms wondered if he should up and move, just to be a little further away from the university, away from the young men, away from one of them stealing her away. She was his, he had just yet to convince her. Ask her, even bring it up in any conceivable way.

One occasion made the blood sear in his veins. He should have been more away, should have been more vigilant of this Dan fellow. He watched from a distance as Dan rounded the corner and collided with her. His tall body fell over hers, his hand had just managed to catch the back of her head, softening to the blow to the ground.

"Oh, God! I am so sorry!" Dan's eyes wide in shock, "Oh, I'm so sorry."

She laughed, "No, no, it's fine," Brahms gritted his teeth.

"No, it's not." Dan pulled himself and her up, his hand holding her in a firm grasp. "I am so sorry." He scratched the back of his head, his expression doleful.

"Accidents happen." She assured, grabbing his hand still wrapped around hers. " It's okay Dan."

"You remember me!" Dan's brown eyes lit up. A Radiant smile over his face as he stepped closer to her.

Brahms seethed as the scene played out before him. She smiled, he smiled. She laughed, he laughed. The words between the two began to fall effortlessly between them both.

He watched despondently. How she could let herself relax so easily in another man's presence. How her demeanor shifted around Dan. Those stiff shoulders eased themselves as Dan placed his hand on her shoulder and winked.

Brahms cursed, the university's chapel bell rang out. Every thunderous clang shot through Brahms. Every clang was a reminder he had another place to be. The dreaded desk in the dreaded little corner of his office.

He turned one last time, eyes watched as she smiled with a warmth he'd never seen, how she leaned into Dan as his smile shined bright.

Brahms walks up to his maid's room, thanking Gerti for installing a sense of comfort in Y/N as to never locking the door.

He jiggles the door handle, "Hm..." Again, "Weird," his eyes narrow, "Bloody thing is locked." He jostles the handle, "Bloody woman..."

Click

"Ah, there we are." He hums in approval as the door creaks open. Forever grateful for the previous owner teaching him how to easily unlock a door in the house without a key "Rickety ol' tings" Brahms mocked the man's heavy accent.

He inhales as he enters her room. The simple little abode warmed his heart. Her bed and the nightgown left upon it stirred his loins. He walks to the bed, grabs the nightgown, bringing it to his nose, he growls as he inhales, her natural scent lingered on the garment.

Brahms holds the garment in his teeth as he shucks off his pants, freeing his painfully erect cock. The thoughts whirl in his mind as he plops onto her bed, sighing with content as he sinks down into the mattress and a sneer as he grips his cock.

The same bed she slept, where when the night calls for it, he knew she'd sleep naked. "Fuck..." He growls through the nightgown, ripping it from his mouth to place it over his chest. Her bed, her bed where she no doubt has touched herself, even if briefly in a beautiful sinful manner.

Does she shy away as she dipped those delicate little fingers into her dripping pussy? Does she bite her cheek to stifle her pitchy moans when that jolt of pleasure shot through her?

Brahms collects some spit in his large hand, sucking in a breath as his cold spit touches his cock. His hand pumps eagerly around his thick member, a low groan as the image of her crawling up to him floods his mind. He sighs as he pictures it as her hand gripping him, gasping at how large it is,

"Brahms, my fingers can't even wrap around it!"

"That's okay, love, use those pretty little lips and that wet little tongue to help you."

"What if my make-up smears?"

"Oh, love, that's what I want." Brahms throws his head back, thumb circling his swollen head, picturing it as her delicate wet little tongue. He grips himself harder as he swears he can feel her lips wrap around his cock.

His low groans and breathy moans fill her little room, her name falling from his lips, "So beautiful, Y/N. My love, so perfect, mhm, yes, further down your throat, moaning around it."

Brahms breathing hitches as he pictures her, clawing at his chest as tears prick the corner of her eyes, "I'm a little nervous," She says as she rubs her glistening pussy, inches over his leaking cock.

"You got this, my love." Brahms keens,

"Will it fit, Brahms?..." She bites her lip, a hand groping her beautiful chest.

"My love, just relax, I have you." He pictures gripping her hip to ease her down onto him, gripping his cock as he imagines her warm pussy gripping him.

Audible slaps from the fisting of his cock, mixing with his now desperate pleas and moans fill her room. She's on top of him, her chest flushed against his, she's commenting on how she loves the feel of his hairy chest, praised-filled moans as she comments on his pecs flexing under her.

Brahms bucks his hips into his hand, "Hold you close." He moans as he pictures rolling on top of her, her legs wrapping around his lower half, arms pulling him in close, whispering in his ear,

"Brahms cum in me, cum in me, make me yours." He grips squeeze around his cock, imaging it's her pussy clenching around him, "I love you, Brahms."

He hisses as his body shakes, muscles flexing, toes curling as he snarls out his release. The image of her accepting his seed sends heat washing over him. His cock pulses in his grip, his cum spraying over her nightgown, the remaining spilling down his fingers and cock.

His temples pulse, his ears ringing. His toes unfurling as his legs ceased in their shakes. He squeezes his cock a few more times, hearing her breathlessly thanking him, "It's so warm in me. Thank you, Brahms." He swears he can feel her nuzzling into his chest as if she was there.

Brahms coughs as he sits up, shaking his head as he gingerly throws his legs over the side, placing his feet on the door. The nightgown falls over his cock. He snorts, using it to clean himself. He stands up, placing the nightgown where he had found it. A wicked and mischievous grin spreads over his face at the thought of her wearing his spent at night.

He grunts as he retrieves his trousers, pulling them up in haste, tucking his chub back in. A content sigh as he eyes the bed and nightgown. She wouldn't be sleeping alone for much longer.

Brahms snaps his attention to the trill of his front doorbell. He clicks his tongue as he makes haste to the door. He debates on if he has time to properly clean his hand, decides to just wear a fancy white-glove he leaves, conveniently, near the front door instead.

"Coming! My Maid is out currently," He sucks in a breath as he pulls a glove over his right hand, he cocks his head quickly before opening the door. "Sorry, it'd have been answered sooner...who are you?"

Brahms stared down at the short man before him. His brown hair combed expertly to the side, his brows immaculate under his thick glasses. He wore a glowering expression, his lips in a tight line.

The man clears his throat, "Herbert, Herbert West." Brahms makes note of his American accent, "I believe this paper is for the lady of this residence." Herbert whips the paper in front of him, his expression changing to say "Well, hurry and take it!"

"Mr. West."

"Herbert."

"Herbert, If by Lady you mean, Gerti? She passed awa-"

"I don't mean your dead wife."

Brahms's eyes narrow at Herbert. He opens his mouth the speak.

"I mean, Y/n. She is the only lady living here. So Dan tells me."

Brahms's jaw slackens, "Dan." He says more to himself.

"Yes, it's an invitation to a formal at the university. He already invited her. Just wanted to make sure she got all the details, it's all there on the paper." Herbert whips it again in front of Brahms.

Brahms yanks the paper from Herbert, eyes scanning it wildly.

University of London

Residents of Handel Mansions we formally invite you to bring along the most beautiful dame for the start of our fall formal.

September 28th, 1900

Entrance fee 1 pound, with a beautiful dame on your arm the fee is waved.

Brahms stares back at Herbert who pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose, "Well," Herbert begins, "I figured be best to drop it off for Dan. He's been awfully busy." He flashes a smile to Brahms as he turns, "Dan also says to let Y/n know he wishes her luck at her new job on Robitaille's farm." He turns back around to Brahms, "Oh, it was nice meeting you, Mr.?"

Brahms pauses, clearing his throat, "Brahms Heelshire."

Herbert clicks his tongue, "I knew that." He walks down the stairs, a pep in his step, "Was nice meeting you Mr. Heelshire."

Brahms stares at the short man walking away, nodding to a man walking past. He turns back around, slamming the door behind in, the frame shook.

He stares down at the paper, eyes reading it over and over again. "A formal." He starts, "That Dan..." His breath catches in his chest, "A job?" he questions aloud.

He collapses against his door, slumping over as he crunches the paper in his hands. His thoughts raced to her, cursing himself for not intervening that day she ran into Dan. Wishing he just took the reprimand from his employer and raced in to shove Dan away from you. Creating some fantastical lie as to why he was suddenly there.

Brahms's thoughts slip to his son. Lawrence, his green eyes shine whenever he and Y/n play. He hugs her like he did his mother. How y/n always promises to play with him, tuck him at night. How were you going to tuck him in if you were to be away? How were you going to be there to kiss his little cheek as he falls asleep?

"How are you going to be there for me?"

[jayankles]

The Culmination: Endgame

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x Reader

Word Count: 2362

Summary: Y/N doesn’t feel so good and it’s not like her to not answer the phone to Sebastian. He was right to send over Josie, Y/N’s friend, over to find out what’s wrong.

Warnings: Angst, Implied Smut, Fluff

Written for: @anyfandomangstbingo​ | @anyfandomfluffbingo​ | @anyfandomgoesbingo​ 

Squares Filled:  Sick fic | first time | “I really don’t like doing this over the phone”

A/N - Blake Lively is not a representation of the reader; it’s just for the dress. And the other beautiful woman is exactly who I pictured for Josie.

Feedback is gold and appreciated

Of course, you were sick today. The day that Sebastian had told you that he was to take a day at the gym then spend it with Don. You knew that when you woke up this morning it wasn’t going to be a good day, the cold sheets a little foreshadowing of how your day would have gone. The little guttural feeling you had punching you in the gut right now, it had you on the floor, bent over the toilet seat with your head in the bowl.

You felt awful. Unable to move, unless it was your throat spasming. Definitely the worst day so far, you couldn’t move and when you finally were able to move at all you felt like a robot. Not a good look.

You decided that it was time to head back to bed, none of your food would stay down so you made yourself a bottle of water and stumbled into bed with a bucket in your hand, ready to put the bucket on the floor beside your bed.

Pulling at the covers, you curled up under them and took a swig of your drink. Tears rolled down your face as you felt the pain grow stronger, you rubbed your stomach in hopes it would make you feel better; it didn’t.

All you could do was pray that you would fall asleep to not feel this pain anymore. Sleep evaded you. The pain is all there is that you feel. You threw up another three times before you finally succumbed to the pleasures of sleep. Rattling of keys had been the object that had drawn you out of your few moments of slumber. You didn’t dare move though, there was no point, you couldn’t move anyway.

“Y/N! Y/N, where are you?” It took you a minute to realise that it was your friend, Josie, shouting your name in hopes of finding you. “Y/N, Whe- There you are. What are you still doing in bed? Oh...”

She looked as if she sighed out a breath of relief before she retracted, covering her mouth and nose with her hand. Inhaling the stench of the room, she quickly ran out of there, returning with air freshener, spraying it around you to make her feel better.

“You need a bath, babe. Stay here and I’ll run you one. Of course you’re going to stay here, you poor thing.” Josie rambled, you stopped her before she could go on for another hour.

“Jo, pour some lavender in there. Love you.”

Freshly out of the bath after thirty minutes, you were wrapped up in Sebastian’s bathrobe, a reminder that he was home as it still smelt like him. “I hate feeling like this. It sucks. But I feel better already.”

Josie softly smiled at you, pity in her eyes. “Must have been that nap you took but I know it sucks. Could you imagine Seb with this kinda illness, though? It would be 100% worse just because it’s man flu.”

“Thank you for being here.” You said, taking a seat on the couch. “What are you doing here anyway?”

“Seb called, said he tried texting and video chatting you but you wouldn’t pick up. I guess he was right to have me come over and check on you.”

“He’s such a cutie.” You groaned as you walked, the bath only slightly relieving some of the pain.

“I know. It makes me wanna barf… not like you, though. That shit is nasty, no, thank you, ma’am.” She tutted through a pinched nose, reminding of just how gross you felt and smelt not even a mere hour ago.

“You’re a pleasure as always, Jo. Always so kind to me, when I feel like shit. Thank you.”

She shrugged knowingly, a smirk on her face as she reached forward for the remote, finding a music channel and turning it down a little so it faded into the background becoming nothing but white noise. “So do you know what brought this on? Eat some bad food?”

“I don’t think so, otherwise Seb would feel the same way right?”

“Well you aren’t pooping as well as being sick so this isn’t a viral or bacterial thing. You’re not burning up? No severe migraines?” She asked and you only had one answer.

“Nope. And no, my appendix hasn’t burst because I’ve already had it out.” You said, becoming tired again as you let out a yawn.

“Well, I think I might need to slip out for a little bit.”

“Why? Where are you going? I thought you were going to take care of me?”

“I am. I’m just gonna head to the store and grab you some stuff to make tomato soup. I’ll be twenty minutes tops.” Josie was true to her word, never taking more than the twenty minutes she promised. Putting the bag of groceries on the counter, Josie pulls out the contents, revealing the ingredients she offered to get for you but you could tell that there was something else in the bag.

“What’s in there?”

Josie was fidgety, her fingers twiddling together. “I need you to keep an open mind because I think I know why you’re grossly throwing up.”

“Hit me. I wanna know how I can feel better right now.”

“It’s a good thing that you’re sitting down because…” She paused, making a face that she knew you weren’t going to like. “Because I think you’re pregnant.” her face unchanging as she pulled out the pregnancy test.

Then it hit you. 

No.No.No. Fuck!

Hands dancing.

Tongues twining.

Passion blooming.

It was everything you could have asked for when he was away but now that Sebastian was back, you couldn’t keep your hands off of him. You covered every area of the apartment possible.

Oh crap.

“Fuck!”

“Yes you did.” Josie laughed at her own joke, the reaction not quite the same on your end.

“Oh god, Sebastian is going to kill me. He’s never going to want to talk to me. Why was I so stupid? Oh, I’m never gonna hear from him again. I’ll be kicked out. I’ll be a single mother. I’m gonna have to live with you and if I have this baby, you’re gonna hate me, then you’re gonna kick me out too. ”

Josie scoffed at you, helping you scurf back your hair away from your face, making you look into her wide eyes. “First of all, chill. I gotchu, you know I gotchu forever. Sebastian isn’t like that, but if he is you will never see him again and that is a promise and maybe a little bit of a threat. He’ll deserve it if he hurts you so. Just be my alibi if anything ever happens. Just go take the test. Negative? You’re just sick. Positive? You call Sebastian and you talk to him like an adult.”

“Why are you always right? Don’t you ever get sick of it?” You huffed before you smiled at her, squeezing at her hand after taking the small handful of the pregnancy test boxes back to the bathroom.

Five minutes passed and you were holding the peed on sticks in your hand, four out of five of them being positive. “I think I need to call Sebastian, and a doctor.”

After making an appointment with the doctor, you took a deep breath and pressed the button to call Sebastian. He picks up the call pretty quickly and you are not surprised.

“Y/N! Finally! Are you okay? What happened?”

“Hey bubba. I’m fine, just a little sickness. But I really don’t like doing this over the phone. When are you coming home. We need to talk.”

Two months later.

It was the night of the premiere of Avengers: Endgame and you couldn’t be more thrilled for the success that the Marvel Franchise had. It was 10 years of absolute lovable craziness. Thank you, Stan Lee.

You had no idea that you would be here on the aptly coloured, purple carpet with Sebastian after all you would have thought that you would still be with him after the whole pregnancy fiasco but the two of you were able to talk things through. Things were thrown, voices were raised, and tears were shed but still after all of that, Sebastian made the executive decision to calm the two of you down. The stress was no good for anyone at this point. You were both going to be parents; it’s what was established.

The two of you walked hand in hand, palms sweating as the cameras flashed, and photographers called out to each and every star that was involved in the production of Endgame. The culmination of the whole franchise was just so surreal, the fact that it was ending with a bang both made you swell with pride but it also made you a tad emotional because this collection of amazing characters wouldn’t continue but the legacy they left would. And that was what mattered.

“Sebastian! Y/N! Over here!” You heard from one of the interviewers, looking beautiful in her outfit, Sebastian rubbed his thumb across your knuckles, you were going to be okay. He was right there with you and you had done this a few times before. He was there for you.

“Hi.” “Hello. You and Sebastian answered at the same time, making the interviewer laugh.

“Wait, I remember you. I bought you a soup in a thermos and Tom gave you his jacket. I see we got lucky with good weather today, huh?” You said, smiling at her.

“Yes. You remember me?!” The woman turned to the camera looking right into the lens of it. “Guys, I’m fangirling so hard right now. Ah!”

Once the woman got her fangirling out of the way, she moved onto the interview, trying to get any information that she could before the movie premiered. Sebastian took over that one, telling her that there was no way that they were allowed to say anything about the movie other than he was dust.

“Now we’ve got that movie non gossip out of the way. Are you okay to talk freely about your pregnancy?”

You looked to Sebastian, it was his decision just as much as it was yours, you knew that Sebastian wanted to keep his private life separate from his professional acting career. “It’s okay, honey. Go ahead.”

“I think you’re good to go.”

“Thank you. I must say that you do look stunning in that dress.” She gushed, you thanked her, hiding your face a little. You loved this dress, the nude under layer and the little white and purple flowers that scattered across your dress, your bump barely visible through your dress.

“How far along are you?”

“Well, we’re in the first week of the second trimester. So I’m a little more confident when telling you that.”

“That’s amazing. Was the pregnancy planned at all?”

You made a face, sucking in a little air, looking to Sebastian for a little light to be shed on the situation. “Not at all. It was Y/N’s friend that actually realised that her morning sickness wasn’t her having the flu. She felt absolutely awful that morning, it was enough to know that it was bad when I tried to call her and I didn’t get an answer.

“We had our issues, you know, we didn’t know what to do, we're new at this. But I think that it’s important to know that you don’t abandon your family.” Sebastian softly smiled at you, subconsciously putting a hand on your slowly growing stomach. “I guess that is what this franchise is about though, right? It’s about family and- and looking out for one another. Everybody’s got a somebody here and I love that.”

“And Thanos, fucks it all up and snaps his goddamn fingers.” The three of you and the cameraman began to laugh at your little outburst about the mad, purple titan. “God, I can’t wait for the premiere tonight but I’m scared. For everybody. But especially for me, you know, I’m an emotional person anyway, add a hormonal woman to the mix and a whole lot of angst. Get my ice cream and tissues ready, because I’m coming for you, Thanos.”

“I heard that!”

“Love you, Josh. For the record, Josh is a nice guy, the character he plays is a big old sack of balls and I have no idea how he does it so convincingly.” Lovingly, you made eyes at Seb. “But it’s just like my Sebastian, a dark hydra assassin but in reality he’s a big ball of sunshine and goofiness. And I love him for it.”

“This is- this is what gets me.” The interviewer leaned in a little as Sebastian’s voice dropped to a slight whisper. “I know that she is going to be the best mom for our child because Y/N loves everything and everyone and that is a great quality to have but she’s also caring and matches my goofy side but her sass outweighs mine of course, no one can beat that.”

“Aww, he’s making me cry already. Seb,” you whined. “My makeup.”

“Well that's it folks.” The woman spoke, telling the audience that this was one of the cutest interviews that she had ever taken, that she could die happy and quickly saying congratulations before the two of you were whisked away to walk the carpet again and pose for pictures.

“You’re way too good to me, you know that right?” You said to Seb as you admired the sky blue suit he was wearing over his plain white tee. “I never even got to tell them that this baby will have the hottest dad in the world as well as the sweetest man. Thank you for being my baby daddy.”

Unbeknownst to you, the cameras had caught every single moment the two of you shared. The kisses you shared together, were now shared with the world, all over social media. At this point you didn’t care, you only cared about the man in front of you and the baby growing in your stomach. And this god damn movie!

Feedback is gold and appreciated

[wyn-n-tonic]

We Can Stay Like This Forever

Word Count: 2,385 Warnings: Uh... yearning. A crumb of smut. Dialogue heavy bullshit tbh. Author's Note: God okay, I've been sitting on this for like a month now? I wrote this when I couldn't focus on my own characters anymore and my brain needed to visualize parts of the scene I was trying to write using the body language of a character I already know and love so well. This is written in second person but the reader has a name. It was an experiment dashed out in a drunken fervor that made my editor weep. Anyway, if you see any of these lines in a book one day... no you don't.

MASTERLIST

“Javi, I haven’t loved you since I was twent—“

“That's bullshit and you know it,” he interrupts, voice coming out hard but arms crossed tighter than they have been all night, replacing the pressure of kevlar he’s so used to. Protective, defensive, stopping the bullets from reaching him where it matters the most.

Your lips are raw from dragging your teeth across them but biting down is the only thing that stops the tears from springing to the surface. You never thought you’d see him again, you never thought he’d be standing in your kitchen only strides away; two for him, four for you. You saw the news coming out of Colombia, heard it in the supermarket passed from ear to ear straight from his dad’s mouth. Javier Peña was the walking dead.

Javi left Lorraine for you. You gave him a choice and he made it and you, being certain he’d lean the other way, couldn’t live with that guilt. When you wrote that first letter, you didn’t expect a response. You just wanted to apologize, you wanted him to know that you were sorry. You didn’t expect to hear his voice on the other end weeks later when you picked up the phone. Hell, you had pushed the letter so far out of your mind that you’d forgotten you’d included your number.

And now he’s standing in front of you, tangible as ever. No longer just the boy you loved but a man aged so roughly by sun and stress that you are breaking within wishing that you had been there to smooth it all over.

“Goddamn it, Clara,” that hard tone reaches towards you again but he loosens his stance, the toned arms still holding close to his body but the tension bottoming out to his exhaustion, “are you going to say anything or are you going to just keep looking at me like I’m a fucking ghost?”

“Is that not what you are?” Your voice is broken when you find it again, the tears really do come now. “A ghost from my past come back to haunt my bad decisions? Tell me I fucked up?”

“Is that what you think I’m here for? Is that why you think I came to you first thing instead of my family?” He exhales a breath you didn’t realize he was holding and drags a hand through his hair, pinning you in place with his eyes. “Can I smoke in here?”

“I thought you quit.”

“Yeah well,” another exhale, the slightest hint of laughter on his lips, “I thought a lot of things I’ve been wrong about too.”

And god, those eyes. Simultaneously the warmest, softest brown but so black they look like blown out pupils. Like he’s the one who’s been snorting the cocaine, not busting those that do. You don’t even register the insult before nodding your head. What’s a little cigarette smoke when you run the risk of him walking out that door and not coming back?

But isn’t that what you want? Isn’t that the purpose of this conversation? Are you not being the same bitch you were all those years ago praying that he’ll be the one to walk out on you this time? Bringing it back full circle to that decision you forced on him half a lifetime ago?

“Yeah?” He doesn’t sound sure and even though your eyes are anywhere but on his now, you haven’t felt his leave you this whole time.

“Yeah,” you whisper to your feet like they’re the most interesting goddamn thing in the world.

After years of practice, he’s quick about it, you don’t even realize he’s lit up until he lets go of that first puff and, with it, the entire room changes. It’s not angry, it’s not hard, it’s… twenty years of heartache and longing compounding, neither party believing they’re good enough for the other.

You look back at the tired man standing in front of you, “Javier, I—“

“No. No, let me talk,” he rubs his eyes with his free hand, drags it down his golden cheek and smirks. Another inhale and, “I didn’t come here to tell you that you fucked up, you’ve said it plenty. We’ve been talking for months, we fell back in stride like nothing ever happened, like I hadn’t spent years pretending every woman I fucked was you because it was like you’d never left my side. Almost twenty-five hundred miles, Clara, I was a world away from you and when I came home at the end of the day the last six months…” he’s the one biting his lip now, “I could call you no matter the time and the sound of your voice made me feel like a normal person. Like I still had a shot at this world beyond the bounty on my head.”

His exhaustion, his softness, is palpable now as he stops to suck in a breath like he hasn’t taken one this whole time and then…

“If you didn’t love me, you wouldn’t have written. If you didn’t love me, you would’ve hung up. If you didn’t love me, you wouldn’t answer the phone at one o’clock in the fucking morning to tell me to breathe through the anger and the sadness and the horror I witnessed. But if that’s the story you want to stick with, I’ll go. I don’t expect anything I just…” his voice hitches, the cigarette long forgotten between his fingers, “I just wanted to see if your face still lights up when you laugh or if that had changed after two decades. It hasn’t and it’s still both my favorite sight and sound in the world. I’m sorry I didn’t fight harder to watch it grow through the years.”

He looks to the right of him and throws the cigarette in the sink. Pushing off the counter with his other hand, he takes one step forward and fixes his eyes on yours again. “Tell me I’m wrong, Clara. Tell me you don’t love me and I won’t ever darken your home aga—“

“I love you.”

And he’s on you. Just like that. Just one more step to close the distance and his body presses to yours. His large hands come up to cradle your jaw and his nose slots perfectly into place against yours and his lips touch down like a plane with faulty landing gear, crashing against yours all hot breath and stale tobacco and, oh god, the smell of him. Soap and sweat, the chemical make up of his scent flooding your senses to make you feel whole again when you didn’t even know how much you missed it.

His hands are sliding down gently, wrapping around your waist and pulling you closer. With his strong arms lifting you away from the counter, you no longer need to support yourself against it and you’re grabbing for him, trying harder to wring the space from between you like a worn rag but nothing is left.

The feel of him is something new, however. He’s not that scrawny kid who awkwardly held you to him, unsure of how his touches were affecting your body and pleasure. No, this Javier is different. Older, experienced, more tender than you remember him ever being, so sure of himself and just… thicker. Two shirt sizes up from the man you walked away from, his formerly wiry muscles are almost bubble wrapped in a way. What used to knot against you in hard planes of flesh and bone now give quietly against your touch as you’re pulling at the only thing that separates you now.

But suddenly, he’s breaking away. All heavy breaths and wildly flushed cheeks, his lips have left yours and the ache you numbed in his absence returns like a migraine after sleep. You need him and he’s gone again and you’re chasing his kiss with a whine as he replaces his lips with a thumb, cradling your face once more and shushing you, “Cálmate, mi amor. Está bien. Are we moving too fast right now?”

And you are breathless as you answer, “We are not moving fast enough, Javier.”

“I just don’t want you to think that this is all that I want. That you will wake to find an empty bed tomorrow.”

“If I woke to find an empty bed tomorrow, that’s exactly what I’d deserve.”

Those eyebrows knit up in confusion, the lines that have made their home on his forehead making you simultaneously weak in their beauty as evidence of his life and sad in the tragedy that you weren’t there to watch him earn them.

“Clarita,” his tone is so soft, the endearment coming to him as naturally now as it did in the before, “If it’s punishment you think you deserve then I’m here to tell you that you’re wrong. I chose you, you didn’t beg for it. I did that of my own accord. And when you chose to walk away because you felt guilty, I did beg you. I’ll own it, I begged and pined but you couldn’t get out of your own head long enough to see that you were never the issue, you were the solution. You still are. I have searched for you in everybody I’ve ever met. So tell me,” his hands are wrapping around your arms now, “Are you ready to forgive yourself and find me in your bed tomorrow morning?”

“Yes,” comes barely audible through parted lips as his find yours once more, knocking the breath from your chest as his hands slide down to your hips. He digs his fingers into the denim there and slowly starts to guide you through the home that’s not his thinking, correctly, that the only door at the end of the hallway is the destination he really booked from Bogotá.

And he is burning a hole through you, his entire being set on fire against you in the already blazing Texas heat. He is gentle as he pushes you down, climbing on top with one arm out to break both your falls. His shirt was abandoned somewhere in the kitchen, shoes kicked off in the hallway with your shorts not far behind. His belt buckle is riding against you as he rocks his hips down, forgetting the metal between you in his hunger for you to feel him.

He feels you wince, the whine swallowed between his lips but he’s pulling back like he’s electrocuted you. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” your hands are shaking as you take advantage of the space between, “just take your pants off.”  

He hits you with that crooked smile and meets your hands where they’re still trembling at his hips and, god, he’s swift. He wastes no time kicking off his jeans and falling back into you, pressing back into you. You can feel him straining against his briefs but his patience is unmatched as he savors every taste of your mouth, every nip at the warm skin of your neck and chest. His hands are exploring the years that have marked your body as you mentally catalogue the scars that have taken over his.

He’s pushed your shirt up as far as it will go without leaving you but when he finally does to lift it away, the separation is so quick that it feels like nothing. He’s everywhere and you’re delirious, half thinking you’re imagining him moaning into you as he takes your hand in his to put it where he wants it.

You almost think…but, no, that’s not how that works. Your brain is fucking with you, unable to reconcile the man on top of you with the memory of the boy you loved once upon a time. But you swear, he’s bigger. He holds his breath as your hand slides between him and his waistband and he’s looking down at you like he’s never been touched at all. The sadness showcased across the softness of his face is made worse by the sheen of sweat and blush across his nose. You’d almost believe it if you couldn’t feel the heartbeat in his hardness, waiting for you to make the next move.

After two beats of aching silence, looking up into the galaxies he has the audacity to call eyes, your other hand moves to push at his waistband. If you thought he was urgent before, the graceful rush to join your efforts is gold medal worthy. Your senses are delayed, you’re not sure if the sound of fabric hitting the ground comes before or after he’s ripping at the only bit of fabric that separates you now.

“Fuck,” he rests his forehead to yours, “I'll buy you another pair.” The confusion bubbles into laughter as you realize that, yes, he actually tore them from your body.

But the bubbling laughter in your throat squeezes into a tight gasp, the air punched from your lungs as he steadies himself against you. His long fingers are brushing your hair to the side as he leans down and whispers against your lips, “Can I?”

“Please,” but your begging is lost in his response before the word has fully left your lips. He is grabbing in a way you haven’t felt in years. Hungry, like he can’t get enough, like it’s all he needs.

It is devastating, the build up. He’s ripping through the deepest parts of you and you’re convinced, wholeheartedly, that the only truth you’ve ever known rides on the waves of his name. His grip tightens, his teeth dragging down your jawline and warmth takes over as an earthquake shatters what little composure you’ve kept.

He moans low in his throat once.

Twice.

Three times it dies out against your ear like it’s only meant for you. Like it was all only meant for you.

He’s smiling as he softens, you can hear it in his voice as he slowly asks, “Can we just stay like this for a minute?”

You press your lips to that dimple, singular and lonely on the right side of his face; so far gone from a five o’clock shadow, you’d almost think he’s been forty all his life.

“Javier,” your fingers wind tighter through the sweat slick curls at the crown of his head, “we can stay like this forever.”

TAGLIST: @justanotherblonde23​ | @greeneyedblondie44​ | @icanbeyourjedi​ | @princess76179​ | @bbuckysbeardd​ | @notcookiebelle​ | @knivesareout​ | @empress-palpat1ne​ | @phoenixpascal​ | @lexi-b-writes​ 

[hotwings0203]

This is so utterly stupid but I have a few HC’s about Muslim Dabi(again obv this isn’t canon I just think it’s funny)

-Dabi would def be the type of Muslim dude who claims to be super religious cuz he never eats pork and “goes to the mosque to pray”(which is actually just code for hitting a blunt in the back of the parking lot w Hawks and Shigaraki💀), but yet smokes^^ and still has hella sex with like every other girl who bats her lashes at him from across the dining hall

-he also is a big cat lover, he claims since the Prophet Muhammad had cats of his own it’s sunnah to keep one

-on Eid namaz he’s the most dripped out one at the session, I’m talking black kurta dress, nice ass watch, slicked back hair...but funny enough, no one has actually seen him in line for the prayers themselves

-if he were back at home with the rest of the Todoroki’s, he’d most definitely be THE MOST spoiled one. Fuyumi would get on his ass for not cleaning the dishes, but he’d wave her off and tell her it’s training for her to be a better housewife for her future husband(cue a soapy sponge thrown at his head)

-Snitches.Constantly. Bro like this dude catches Shoto on his phone when he’s supposed to be doing a dua? Boom, instant callout followed by a long ass lecture about how he’s straying away from his religion and how he’s going to hell just because he spent one measly moment on his device instead of praising da lord

-Hes also always telling fuyumi to cover up her sleeves that come just a bittt before her wrists, claiming that she’s showing too much skin(especially when Hawks is over, that fucker’s got his eyes on every single one of his family members). But she’s quick to point out his secret tattoos, piercings, and hair dyes. He just scoffs and pulls the “women were created lesser than men so it’s okay for me to act a fool but not for you” card🙄stg I can’t stand him

-Since he’s the closest to Natsu, he’s always giving Eid money to him the most. The dude will slouch against his favorite brothers’ door, watching him play 2K. “What do you want?” Natsu asks with no real malice, not taking his eyes off the changing screen, furiously clicking away on his controller. “Mom says you gotta iron your clothes, Fuyumi’s doing her own so she can’t do yours as well. Oh, and Eid Mubarak by the way.” Natsu pauses him game and stands to stretch his arms above his head, groaning at the tendons popping in place on his back. “Yeah man, you too-what’s that?” He points to a fat parcel in Touya’s hand. The white-haired boy grins and chucks the bulging package at him, which Natsu catches easily. His eyes widen when he tears open the cream-colored paper envelope and reveals dozens of bills exceeding the usual 5-10$ family limit. “Yo, what-how-thanks Touya!” He sputters, throwing the package on his bed and throwing an arm around his brothers’ back in a man-hug. Touya rolls his eyes and barely suppresses a smile at Natsu’s excitement,(something he’s always wanting to be the source of) pounding his back to let go before he asphyxiates. He lets go and Touya smirks before heading towards the door, calling out over his shoulder, “Oh, and I’d thank Sho-turd as well while you’re singing my praise.” Natsu stops in his tracks and looks suspiciously at the withdrawing slender figure. “Why?”. Touya’s voice is distant as he moves to close and lock his door. “‘Cuz it’s his money after all.”

-The two brothers are always waking up at Sehri the earliest in Ramadhan, just so they can scarf down a majority of the food in the fridge and go to sleep without having to interact with the rest of their family at sunrise. And in the case that their family DOES wake up in time to see them chomping down food made for a WHOLE FAMILY and not just two boys, Touya is quick to grab his keys and jacket and cackle that him and Natsu are going to iHop to eat some more. Natsu ofc is quick to follow pursuit, throwing an apologetic grin towards his parents and other siblings.

-When they’re at the mosque and Enji has somehow bullied him enough to sit the hell down and actually ATTEND the lectures for once, Touya still has one up his sleeve. Planned out strategically, he always simpers to Rei that he wants to donate to the mosque, causing her eyes to water and a handful of cash thrown his way, her voice wobbly as she praises her son for actually taking the foundations of his religion seriously. Unbeknownst to her however, this just means that he’ll take a little bit more than he gives. Hawks will be standing at the front of the hall, bowing his head and using his silver tongue to graciously thank the many men and women who come forth to drop their allowance into the money basket. When he sees his best man approaching, he has to stop the smug grin from reaching his ears, instead slanting his brows and holding the basket out to the now black-haired thief. “Glad to see you’re taking eternal damnation seriously, for once,” Keigo flashes his perky whites and Dabi drops Rei’s money into the donation basket, dipping his hand a little lower for a second. “Glad to see you’re still standing here like some busboy peasant, as usual,” he fires back, the two boys catching each other’s eyes and stifling their cackles as the patched hand withdraws, a copious amount of bills in his hand, more than what he put in.

-100% steals shoes. Usually you hear about older men doing this, but age aint nothin’ but a number to Dabi, baby. “Nice kicks,” he nods to a boy Natsu’s age, noting the blue and black minimalist patterns adorning the shoes. The boy recognizes Dabi as one of the most revered figures at the mosque (and the most featured by adults. Who’d want their kid hanging out with the eldest Todoroki as an influence?) and bobs his head excitedly, spewing out the manufacture and release dates of the shoes. Dabi looks at the fanboy amusedly, continuing to lean against the shoe rack as more people crowd around and start to push the boy inside. “See you later Dabi!” The eccentric kid calls out as he’s pushed into the hall by grumbling uncles. The ravenette snickers fo himself, “Yeah, but you won’t be seeing these shoes anytime soon.”

-A notorious playboy in the community. Uncles glare at him, unable to scold him outright for his shenanigans due to his father’s close presence, and aunties steer their children away from him at dinner parties. Speaking of, Dabi’s at a dinner right now. He’s lighting up a joint in amongst 3 mesmerized girls sitting on the floor in front of him and 2 jealous dudes his age in a locked room, away from all the screaming little kids. “Wow Dabi, doesn’t it burn?” The youngest of the three girls asks him with imploring eyes. He smiles a charming smile down at her and he thinks he sees the other two swoon. “Nah, sweetheart, you get used to it after a little while. Don’t be like me though, keep yourself pure and clean,” he shoots a wink at them and they giggle, faces turning red. The other two boys sitting at the far end of the bed scowl at his successful flirting, but Dabi doesn’t care for any of them, honestly, they’re just target practice. Right as he inhaled the fumes of another puff, a little body throws itself at the door, banging its fists on the wood. “It’s time for food!” They all jump at the intrusion and chuckle as the intruder runs away, containing to scream about food being served. The group gets up to leave and exits through the door, but Dabi takes his time. He wasn’t done with his joint, and he has to waft the smell away anyways when he leaves. He’s opening a window to let out some air when he heads a soft shuffle from behind him. “Shows over guys, go eat-“ but when he turns around, the oldest girl of the three stands before him, fiddling with her hands and looking at the floor. “Um, Dabi? I know you said not to try it out by ourselves so...I was wondering if you could-if you could teach me how...?” She looks at the half-used roll in his hand, and he looks from the blunt to her face. He looks behind her. A closed door. Perfect. Taking a step forwards, he relishes in how she takes a hesitant step back, the breath in her throat catching but she still doesn’t back down. She looks to him like he’s a god, and he feels like one right now. And so he steps closer until she’s backed against the wall, his lids lowered to her wide ones, and he placed a hand next to her head. “Didnt your mom ever tell you not to take things from strangers?” He ghosts by the shell of her ear, and she shivers. “She never told me the strangers would be this hot,” and he has to laugh a bit at her tenacity. He pulls away and flops back on the bed, signaling for her to join him. “Well come one then, I’m hungry, better hurry up before I change my mind.” And 5 shotguns later, Dabi barely wipes off her bright pink lipstick from his face and straightens his kurta along with his hair before bounding down the steps, eager for food. At his command, she comes down a minute after him as to not cause any suspicion, but it doesn’t stop Rei from shooting him a knowing glare from the living room as he piles his plate with food. He shoves a veggie roll in his mouth as he turns to join the boys in the dining area, but his path is blocked by a large woman. “I know you’re up to no good. The children told me what funny smell was coming from the room upstairs, and I know you’re to blame, Touya Todoroki. I respect your mother a lot so I won’t make a scene here-“ he interrupts her, mouth half full with a roll, “-I mean, you already kinda are,-“ but she continues her tirade. “-I don’t think you’re a good influence on these kids, especially your siblings. What self respecting family would be okay with their son acting like a hooligan, having piercings, smelling like weed?” He smirks and swallows before swerving around her. “I don’t know Aunty, why don’t you ask your daughter? She didn’t seem to mind my, ah, influence.”

-When they were all younger, there was a time where End*avor wanted the boys the toughen up a bit and stop messing around so much. He brought the family up to the mountains in a nice cabin, purposefully choosing an area with farms nearby. It was around the time of Eid-e-Adha, so naturally goats and sheep’s were going to be sacrificed for the family feast. Touya already knew what was going on, so Enji left it up to him, a scrawny preteen boy to take over the initiation. Fuyumi wanted to come to the farm too, but Touya glared at her and told her to stay home because “girls are too emotional for this.”(he really did think that, but above all he held a secret soft spot for his only younger sister). Natsu and Touya both started heading down to the field to pick out a goat, and ofc little Shoto wanted to come along to. He begged and begged for his older brothers to bring him along and to not leave him at home for once, and with a sly glance to Natsu, Touya relented. He leaned down to Shoto’s eye-level and asked with serious eyes, “You sure?”. Shoto nodded eagerly, standing straight up as to look more solemn and mature. Natsu held back a snicker and grabbed Shoto by the collar as they dragged him out to the pasture. Oh, the little boy was in heaven among the bleating sheep and fluffy coats. “Go ahead, pick one out!” Touya said eagerly, nodding to the clueless toddler to choose a sacrificial sheep. And so the heterochromatic child pointed to one, looking to his big brothers for assurance, to which they gave an excited nod. Shoto yelped with glee and spent the rest of the afternoon frolicking with the soon-to-be-mutton chops, completely oblivious to its grim fate and creating a bond with the animal. So when it was finally sunset and the time came to start preparing for the feast, Touya walked over leisurely to Shoto, pushed the grubby hand away from the animal’s collar, and started pulling the creature towards the chopping block. “W-what’re you doing?” Shoto asked uncertainty. “Well, we gotta eat, right? Thanks for picking out such a fat sheep, ‘wonder how it’s gonna taste,”. The eldest grinned with malice at his youngest brother, who started to sniffle and ball his fists. “You’re lying! Leave it alone!” He cried out. “Nope, m’not lying, ask Natsu.” Natsu turns to Shoto and shrugs his shoulders without any real regret. “You’re the one who wanted to come along, right? Think of how proud dad will be of his favorite-he finally sacrificed his first sheep!”

-the first time he was ever asked to lead the namaz, Keigo and Tomura kept kicking the back of his legs so he would fall over while trying to recite the prayers, and in turn he’d immediately whip around in the middle of the whole damn hall and shoot fire at the two howling boys. Needless to say, he was never asked to read again

(one would think since Dabi knows sooo much about being a gOoD mUsLim and how to follow the rules he’d take some of that advice HIMSELF)

[riverkloss]

My entry for @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie for her 500 challenge! My twist on Hansel and Gretel! Plus I made a moodboard which is super nice if I say so myself. ❤

●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●

I hated the dress, it was pretty but the way it hung on my body, the color, for what it stood for.

Purity, Marriage, to be chained down to a man, one I didn't love.

Harold's mother Mary was fixating on my hair, near pulling it out at the roots, I fought back the winces, at one point I thought about turning around and grabbing her hair to yank it out of her scalp.

She was tall, thin, she reminded me of a spider, her dark hair pulled into a bun, neat and tightly. A dark dress as if she was in mourning, I was.

She was acting as if I was her porcelain doll to dress up, one without a mind.

The reflection was haunting me, this girl staring back at me. Blank eyes, a trembling lip. It didn't look like me, she looked like a stranger, she looked lost.

Mary yanked again at my roots while braiding my hair, a burning pain running alongside my scalp, I hissed in pain. "Stop moving." She scolded me as if I was a child, I huffed out a breath of anger.

Hero's head perked up watching carefully with those big brown eyes of his, alerted and waiting. He was a very intimidating looking dog, but a big baby to me. He was a mutt, half sure he was a German Shepherd, and a Husky, his eyes always on me watching everything I did.

The last of his litter, the runt. Once I got him he grew and grew, he seemed to get bigger everyday.

My best and only friend.

"Is that what you have packed?" Her voice had a distasteful tone. I turned my head to follow her gaze on my trunk, a box full of books neatly stacked on top.

"Yes, May I ask why?"

I looked at her confused, I shifted the front of my body towards her, relieved that my hair was free of the clutches of her fingers.

"You won't be needing all those books, you won't have time to read once you have children." Her eyes look for an imperfection in my face, ready to fix it.

A sickening feeling turns my stomach. I will have to lie in bed with him, have his children.

The thought makes me ill.

"We need the money." The sentence my mother told me runs in my head.

"You should feel grateful for marrying my son." She states, her lip almost upturning in a snarl.

I want to tell her that her son is a pig, a ugly little repulsive pig with his head up her ass, the words die in my throat, I felt incapacitated by my own words, my mind, constantly double thinking over myself.

"Tell your husband that my dog likes to sit in the front seat." It felt good to push back even the slightest at her.

"Didn't your mother tell you? The mutt isn't coming with you, Harold has never been fond of dogs or any pets, dirty things." Those words pushed me back more, I actually let out a laugh in disbelief.

"I've seen dirtier." I smirked at her, I watched her open her mouth to say something as her face switched to spite.

"Mary? The guests are arriving." I hear her husband call out from behind the closed door.

Her hateful gaze doesn't intimidate me.

If anything it fuels me more.

"You best pray to God before the ceremony." Is all she says before she leaves me alone.

I bite back the untasteful words to tell her to shove God up her ass.

I turn my body towards my mirror once again, laying my palms flat on my vanity, so many emotions running through me.

Alone.

There was no stirring through the house, everyone was outside in the front of the house, my chance was open, and I was a fool if I stayed, lived in misery.

I was a fool to take it too, but a free fool was better than one who had none and was still a fool at the end of the day.

I needed a sign. A sign from any of the gods, I pleaded to any of them who would listen.

Then I heard the chime of bells, from the windchime against my window. There it was.

The last gaze I had in the mirror, at the girl who had the glint of a spark in her stormy eyes, a soft smile on her lips.

I darted for my carry bag, shifting my books off my trunk and stuffing clothes in, the few dollars I had, along with the few books I could take, feeling a loss for the others I had to leave behind.

"Let's go, Hero." I waved my hand, he sprinted up quickly to follow behind me, as I moved through the house quickly and quietly, to the kitchen. I opened the back door, the warmth of the spring air hitting me, as I stepped out the door. Hero was at my side as I closed the door behind me.

I turned my head, and my Uncle was leaning against the house smoking a cigarette, he looked at me, panic ran through my body.

And as I thought my freedom was vanishing through my fingers.

"Keep to the trail." He nodded to the woods, he took a deep inhale of his cigarette.

A breath of relief escaped my chest.

"Thank you."

He waved a hand. "See you later, Kid."

I smiled softly. "See you later."

I knew there wasn't a later, but it was better that way than saying goodbye.

The woods were only steps away, and I ran for life, for freedom.

I was a free fool.

~~~

Dark clouds came overhead, the night rolling in as the sun went down, the birds quieting.

My legs were heavy and burning, and Hero kept at my side, patiently.

"Are you lost?" A smoky voice says, making me jump with a gasp, my heart felt like it was going to pop from my chest.

I turned my body towards the trees. A tall man stepped out of the tree line, but didn't step on the trail, his hair was dark, braided and shaved at the sides, scuff lining his boyish features. I noticed a small birthmark on his cheek near his nose. He looked familiar, but I couldn't put my finger on it. He was quite handsome.

"No, I'm not lost." I stated confidently. Hero didn't react to him, which was odd because Hero didn't like strangers. It made me slightly uneasy.

He perked up a dark brow at me, a charming smirk.

"Are you sure?" He was looking at my dress, his smirk getting slightly bigger.

"I would think you would be at a wedding."

I held onto my bag tightly, ready to strike first if it came that way.

"You should know that they are waiting for you at the end of the trail, they thought they would let you walk to defeat." He turns his head briefly to look down.

My face morphs in surprise for a moment, but it's something that my mother would do. That I believe.

"Why are you telling me?"

He bite his tongue with his sharpest canines.

"You're pretty."

I scoffed. I knew what I looked like, yes I was pretty, but men didn't want wives that outweighed them, or intimidated them.

Weak men.

"I know a way off the trail, one you won't get caught."

I pressed my lips together.

"How can I trust you when I don't know you, you're a stranger in my eyes.

"My name is Hvitserk, now we aren't strangers." He smiled at me.

He outstretched his hand for me to take, but I was still weary of him.

"If you try anything Hvitserk, I will let my dog tear you apart." I stated.

I reached for his hand, and he helped me step from the trail into the treeline, Hero followed and began walking in front of us.

"I'm curious, why did you run away, was the husband-to-be grotesque?" He is toying with something in his pocket and pulls out a few wild berries, he pops one into his mouth.

I laughed at that. "I don't want to be held down in a loveless, freedomless marriage, I want more."

He nods, listening to every word, while popping berries into his mouth.

"My father is pushing us boys to find wives, he is more in the old ways about it, stealing a woman and taking her to the underworld." I laugh a little at the underworld part.

"Like Hades and Persephone?"

He raises his eyebrows at me.

"You know that story?"

"I've always liked that story, My parents hated when I read books like that, they thought it would tamper with my mind." I whirl my finger around my temple.

"He stole her away, but they actually loved each other, he treated her with equality and respected her, never cheated on her, or had stray eyes for another, he would destroy the world if she asked." I continued.

He held out his hand to offer me a red berry and plucked one with my finger. I put the berry in my mouth, it was so sweet and ripe against my tongue, almost a cinnamon hint to it.

"If you asked me, I would too."

I playfully rolled my eyes, taking another berry, then another.

"Though my Mother doesn't want to admit it, I think she went willingly as well."

"Oh?" I peer at Hero who is still walking ahead. I paid little attention to what he said, but I should have.

"She ate the berries my Father offered to her, and she became tied to the underworld."

I stare at him like he's grown two heads.

And my gaze goes to the berry in my fingers,

Red and plump, I feel drunk all of a sudden and light like I am floating.

He curls himself around me, and I gasp.

"I think Cerberus will be glad to see his son again." He chimes.

He holds onto my full hip with a heavy grasp.

"I'm sure you'll give me sons too." His gaze darkens on me, he leans down to my lips and my heart feels heavy.

He presses his lips to mine, and I'm engulfed in hellfire.

Maybe being in the Underworld won't be so bad.

[coffeestainsandcashmere]

Let No Man Steal Your Thyme - Chapter Eight (sfw)

I hope those few of you who follow this blog even remember this story!! It's being posted on here as a WIP, so technically you're all my beta readers :). Sorry it's taking so long to work through, but I'm really busy with other writing work, plus actual work, and some life stuff, but it's not abandoned!

In this chapter, which is a bit of a filler chapter, Hermione gets a pleasant surprise visit at the Kneazel and Quill, and she learns what Draco is doing with himself all day at the Manor, and why he has the hands of a potion master. Meanwhile Draco is quietly freaking out about what Scorpius will think of his kindling relationship with one third of the legendary Golden Trio...

As always, looking forward to hearing your reactions and thoughts!

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six (nsfw), Part Seven (nsfw)

___

The bell above the door of the Kneazel and Quill jangled, and Hermione looked up to see a very familiar figure wearing practical, Muggle clothes, and a tired but genuine smile.

“Harry!” she shrieked in delight, rising and scuttling around the desk. “When did you get back? I thought you were on assignment in Sweden til —”

He raised his eyebrows. “Wednesday? It’s Wednesday today, Hermione.”

“So it is,” she laughed, and pulled him into a hug. “Cup of tea? You look wiped out.”

“I’m only staying if you’ve got custard creams…”

She snorted. “I must have known I’d need them — I stopped at the Tesco Express on my way in this morning.”

“Maybe Professor Trelawney was wrong about you and ‘the sight’ after all?” Harry grinned and she shook her head, curls bouncing everywhere for want of a hair-tie.

Seated in the cramped back room of her second hand bookshop, Harry looked at her and cocked his head slightly to the side.

“What?” she asked, dunking a biscuit into her tea.

Quietly, Harry said, “There’s something different about you.”

“No there isn’t,” she retorted, scoffing her custard cream down and reaching for another. “I’m the same washed up old hag I’ve always been. Now, tell me about Gothenburg! I’ve wanted to go back ever since we went there for that conference — must be, ooh, what, twelve years ago now? Gods, how time flies.”

“Ok, first of all, you’re nothing like a ‘washed up old hag’, so don’t you dare talk about yourself like that, and secondly, Gothenburg was amazing.”

She smiled, and let him tell her what he could about his assignment.

“Bet Ginny’s glad to have you back,” she said.

Harry’s face shifted into what Hermione called her favourite ‘Harry being soppy for his wife’ expression, and he flushed. “Yeah, probably. Apparently Lily’s been flying around the garden at Grimmauld and it’s giving Ginny kneazles. Lily’s been pretending to be the next seeker for the Harpies or something…” Raking his hand through his messy hair, he sighed. “Who’d have ever thought I’d be sitting in your bookshop, talking about my daughter learning to fly, eh?”

She smiled, but Harry’s expression cracked a little.

“Sorry,” he mumbled.

Hermione scowled fondly and reached across to take his hand in hers. “Harry… we’ve been over this a thousand times.”

“I know. I just…” he drew in a long inhale and then said, “So are you going to tell me what’s changed in your life since I’ve been away? You’re practically glowing. Did you meet someone?”

Hermione bit her lip and drew back, cheeks heating damnably.

“You did? Who is it? Do I know them?”

“Yes,” she said carefully. “You do. But if I tell you who it is, I need you to…” she puffed out her cheeks and finished off in a rush, “I need you to promise not to freak out first of all, and then promise you won’t tell a soul. Not even Ginny just yet, ok? It’s really important.”

Harry looked wary and worried at that.

Taking one more breath for courage, she said quietly, “It’s Draco Malfoy.”

For a moment, Harry fell utterly still, his green eyes wide and disbelieving. He looked like he was expecting Fred and George to pop out of the bookshelves with party streamers and tell him he’d been pranked, but when he saw her anxious expression, his shoulders dropped a fraction and he whispered, “You’re bloody serious.”

“Yes.”

“How?” he blurted. “I mean… the man’s a hermit by all accounts. How did you even meet him, let alone… you know…” he grimaced and she bit back a snicker. It looked like he’d swallowed a toad whole.

A tiny smile crept onto her lips and she relaxed just a little. “It was back on the first of September,” she said. “I went with Ginny to wave James and Albus off, and —”

“— of course, Scorpius started this year too.”

“Exactly. Draco was there to see him off. Ginny was amazed that he’d left the Manor, but he’s… Gods, Harry, he loves that boy so much.” She paused, recalling Draco's stricken expression as the train had pulled away from the platform, and of his fears about losing Scorpius because of their relationship.

Harry watched her with a quiet intensity for a moment and then asked, “So… Uh… how’d it happen?”

She laughed. “I invited him for a drink at the Leaky, fully expecting him to refuse. I think he surprised himself when he accepted. We had lunch together and honestly…? It was really nice. He’s changed, Harry.”

“I know.”

That surprised her, and she sat up a bit and frowned.

Chuckling softly, Harry ran a hand around the two-day stubble on his jaw. “You remember the attack on the Manor?”

“Little Scorpius yowled in my arms for hours while you questioned his father, Harry. I couldn’t forget that.”

Harry acquiesced with a sideways nod of his head. “Well, he wasn’t the same Malfoy from school in that interview room, Hermione. I don’t know what I was expecting, but when I could get him to focus on something that wasn’t the whereabouts of his son, he was articulate and helpful… Still arrogant and snappy, but…” Harry shook his head. “He’s definitely different.”

Hermione bit her lip to try and stop herself from crying, which failed, and when Harry looked up, his face fell.

“Hermione? What’s wrong?” He set his mug down and rose from his battered old armchair, crossing in two strides to kneel beside hers.

“I was so afraid you wouldn’t understand,” she whispered, shaking and overwhelmed.

All the tension left Harry and he hugged her.

It was awkward because of the furniture, but Harry had always given the best hugs no matter the situation. “You deserve to be happy, Hermione. And you’ve always known your mind. If Malfoy can keep up with you, and keep you happy, then…” he shrugged without letting go, “I’ll support you. If he hurts you though, I will use every curse I’ve ever learned as an Auror on him.”

“Thanks, Harry. You promise you won’t tell anyone yet?”

He nodded.

And then someone cleared their throat from the doorway into the main shop, and Hermione jumped. Harry sprang back, hand going instinctively for his wand, but he stopped when he saw who was standing there.

“Theo!” Hermione exclaimed, smearing the last of her tears off her cheeks. “What are you doing here? I didn’t hear you come in.”

“Too busy sobbing onto dear Potter’s shoulder,” he said without barb. “Everything alright?”

She nodded. “Just getting emotional about something as usual. What’s up?”

“Just came to see if you wanted to grab lunch, but I can see that England’s favourite Auror has returned. How was your trip, Potter?”

“Good,” he said, suddenly every bit the awkward boy he’d been at Hogwarts. “I just finished debriefing and thought I’d stop by for a custard cream and a chat with Hermione before I head home. I’m on leave for a week now.”

“Nice,” Theo smiled. “Any plans?”

Harry shrugged. “A few casual rounds of quidditch with Ron and the others,” he said. “Time with Ginny and Lily. Might pop up to Hogsmeade and see if I can visit James and Albus at the weekend.”

Conversation stalled, and Harry rocked back on his heels before putting his mug down and turning to Hermione.

“Look, I’d better get going,” he said. “But… Come over for dinner this week, alright?”

She nodded. “I’d love that. Tomorrow any good?”

“I’ll check with Ginny, but I can’t see why not. I’ll owl you.” He paused and then grinned. “C’mere,” he said, and pulled her into another enormous hug. With a hand briefly on the back of her head, he murmured, “I won’t tell a soul.”

“Thank you,” she said, squeezing him so hard he wheezed.

“See you, Nott,” Harry said with a polite nod as he left.

Once the bell had fallen silent again, Theo turned to her and crossed his arms loosely over his chest. “Everything alright?” he asked again now that they were alone.

“Yeah,” she said and rolled her eyes. “I told him about Draco and bound him to secrecy. I was so relieved when he took it so well that I just burst into tears.”

Theo laughed at that and finally seemed to relax. “I’m honoured to have known before Potter, then,” he said. “And what, pray, are those?” he added when his eyes landed on the custard creams.

“Muggle biscuits,” she said, picking up the plate and holding it out to him. “They’re delicious.”

Theo looked as if she’d offered him a plate of slugs and held up his hand. “Thanks… I’ll, uh, pass.”

“You’re such a snob, Theodore Nott,” she laughed, bustling off to tidy the mugs and plate away. “What did you want, anyway?”

“Lunch,” he said.

“It’s three in the afternoon,” she countered.

“Mmm. I had a deposition that went on forever. I’m starving.”

“Theo, I do actually have a business to run,” she said. “Isn’t today Dan’s day off? Can’t he go instead?”

“He’s already reserved us a table and is probably halfway through his steak and rioja by now,” Theo groused. “I’ll bring you a doggy bag if we have any leftovers,” he added affectionately.

“Thanks?”

Pausing on the threshold to the back room, Theo fixed her with one of his rare, intense and sincere looks. “I’m glad things worked out with you and Draco. Potter was right; you both deserve to be happy.”

She swallowed thickly, feeling tears prickle at her eyes again. “You won’t tell anyone? He wants to tell Scorpius himself. He doesn’t want it coming from someone else first.”

Theo dragged his thumb across his heart in a cross and nodded. “Drinks on Friday? Draco said he might come.”

“I’ll be there anyway,” she promised, and Theo left with a friendly wink that only he could get away with.

She and Draco continued to see each other, mostly using the seclusion of his London apartment, though they did sometimes go back to hers. There they watched the 1946 Great Expectations. To Hermione’s surprise, however, Draco informed her that it wasn’t his first time seeing a muggle film. That, naturally, led down a whole rabbit hole of questions, ending with the discovery that Draco had built Scorpius a warded playroom inside Malfoy Manor that was shielded from the effects of magic and thus allowed Muggle technology to function perfectly.

“But… you need electricity!” she’d blurted.

Laughing and looking far too smug with himself, Draco said, “Indeed.”

“But… wizarding households don’t have electricity!”

“Granger, you’re glorious when you’re baffled. I must make more efforts to confound that brilliant mind of yours more often.”

“Tell me!” she’d shrilled, pinching him in the ribs as they sat on the sofa together with the end credits rolling away in the background. When he’d just sat back with his mouth quirked into an infuriating smirk, she had straddled him and raked her fingers through the slightly shorter hair just above his hears on either side of his head, scrunching the silver-white waves until he’d groaned and bucked upwards slightly into her. “Tell me, Draco Malfoy, or no more kisses.”

“You drive a hard bargain, my beautiful, brilliant witch,” he purred, slightly breathless as she continued to hold him in her grasp, head tilted back a little, throat exposed. His hands landed reverently on her hips and he closed his eyes, clearly enjoying the contact.

Naturally, Hermione kissed him on the lips and he smiled. “Perpetual shock charm,” he said when she drew back. “I made a generator.”

“That’s… That’s so simple it’s genius. But surely you had to look up —?”

“I’m fairly certain I could get a job as a muggle ‘electrician’ now,” he snickered, chasing after more kisses. “But I choose not to.”

“What do you do with yourself all day?” she asked. “Running Malfoy Manor and the estate can’t take up all your time, surely?”

He went a little tense beneath her at that and then chuckled, embarrassed. “I… I’m on the board of a number of charities,” he said, “And I’m currently conducting research into a number areas in the field of Potions. I did a postal course to get my NEWTs in Potions, and shortly after that, attained my masters.”

“Huh,” she said, sitting back a bit. She reached down and brought his hands up in front of her. Pressing a kiss to each of his scar-flecked knuckles, she murmured, “That explains a lot. You’ve got the hands of a potion-master, Draco.”

“Too many spills and accidents,” he snorted. “And not enough dragon hide gloves.”

“What are you researching?”

“A number of projects,” he said evasively.

“Come on,” she laughed, dropping his hands again and beginning to nuzzle at his jawline and neck. He was utterly weak to that, she’d discovered to her absolute delight, and she was not above using it to her advantage. Beneath her, he shivered and went limp, turning his head with a sigh of pleasure as she raked her teeth over his pulse and then kissed him.

“I’m working on… ah… on a recipe that… oh gods, Granger…”

“Go on,” she crooned.

“A recipe to make the wolfsbane potion commercially viable,” he panted.

At that, she did pause, but only for a moment. Next thing Draco knew, Hermione had flung her arms around his neck and was squeezing the life out of him like a boa constrictor.

“Granger?”

She just shook her head, thinking of what Remus Lupin would say if he knew what Draco was working on now on behalf of his kind. “Why?” she eventually croaked without removing her face from the crook of Draco’s neck.

His hands skated gently up and down her back, the heat simmering back down to something calmer; something fond and affectionate. “Because,” he fairly growled, “Fenrir Greyback tormented my mother when he lived with us at the Manor, and I had no idea that werewolves could be functioning members of society with the right help until I met Remus Lupin. It was just another area where if I’d only known more at the time, it would have made so much difference to my perception of things.”

He sighed and kissed the side of her head.

“I can make a difference now. I’ve got a state of the art potions lab in one of the dungeons at the Manor, and Severus left his entire collection of books and notes to me in his will. He must have known I always wanted to be a potions master, even when I didn’t think I’d live beyond the end of that awful year…”

That was probably the longest continuous speech from Draco she’d heard since they’d started seeing each other, and the emotion in his voice, lingering beneath the surface like a hidden current, moved her deeply.

“You’re a wonderful man, Draco,” she whispered as she kissed his temple. “I wish the world could see you for who you are now…”

“You see me,” he said very quietly. “That’s enough.”

___

To be continued! Don’t forget to let me know what you think, and help a relative newbie (at least to contributing anyway) to the fandom out by reblogging!

writing masterlist | Ao3

[aubreyprc]

In My Veins 5: Final

part one part two part three part four

But you catch a glimpse of sunlight.

Shinin', down on your face.

-

Hotch inhales a breath as he prepares himself to hear whatever the doctor is about to tell him, his heart hammering in his chest. He grips a hand over the necklace in his palm, praying for a miracle.

The doctor rubs a hand over his face and laughs and the two men frowns in confusion.

“She’s awake.” The doctor tells them, a large smile on his face. 

Hotch’s eyes go wide as he releases a breath, almost falling to the floor before catching himself, relief flooding his whole body. 

“She started breathing on her own, which in turn made the ventilator set off, which is what the beeping was.” He explains to Reid, who’s still staring in shock at the doctor.

“She’s okay?” Reid whispers, a smile on his face.

“She’s awake.” He corrects, and the two men look at him for an explanation. “She was in a coma.. on a ventilator for almost eleven days. She’s confused, tired.. it’s normal.” He tells them.

“Is there..” Hotch starts, before clearing his throat and standing straighter. “Is there brain damage?” He asks.

“So far, not that I can see.” He smiles, “A neurologist is on their way down now, they’ll be able to tell us for sure. She may need to go for a CT.” The doctor tells them, the Agents nod, trying to process the unexpected, but prayed for news.

“For now… she’s awake. She’s aware of her surroundings even though she has no memory of the crash, which is also pretty normal in these situations. Probably for the best in most cases.” He informs them,

“Can I- we see her?” Hotch asks, the doctor sighs.

“I’m going to ask the neurologist to see her before you, simply because I want to be able to prepare you for the outcome of brain damage, instead of you seeing in without warning. But it shouldn’t be long. Make some calls, I know there’s a group of you. I’ve seen about eight different people a day.” He jokes, “She’s lucky to have you all.”

“We’re the lucky ones.” Reid says with a smile, before nodding and grabbing his phone. “I’ll call Morgan and JJ..” He says.

“I’ll call Dave and Garcia.” Hotch nods, turning to look at a doctor who appears in front of them.

“This is Doctor James. He’s the resident neurologist.”

“I hear we have a miracle.” He smiles, shaking the hands with Hotch and smiling back at Reid, dropping his hand with a laugh as the man just holds a hand up in a wave. 

“We do.” The other Doctor smiles, “She’s in 819.”

“I’ll be as quick as I can. I imagine you’re all eager to see her.”

Hotch and Reid smile at the man before he heads into the room, the other behind him, and they make the calls.

-

Garcia screams down the phone with joy and rushes out three sentences unintelligibly before screaming again, announcing she’ll be right there and hangs up. 

Hotch can’t help but laugh, his heart full of just.. relief… love… joy…

Dave shouts a few words in Italian, laughing happily. Another few happy words in his mother tongue and he’s almost in his car, shouting he’ll be there shortly and the phone call ends.

Morgan doesn’t believe it. Shocked. Unable to react for a few moments before laughing, almost crying in pure joy as he grabs his keys and runs to his car, saying he’s on his way.

JJ just cries. At first Will thinks the worst has happened as he drops the cup he was holding and runs to his girlfriend, his face full of worry before he sees her happy smile. He lets out a sigh of relief and smiles back. She tells him she’s awake and then announces to Reid that she can’t believe it, she’s on her way. Running into Will’s arms and laughing happily he picks her off the ground as she squeals, he then taps her back and tells her to go, JJ runs out the door with a happy laugh.

-

The team arrive at the hospital in the space of twenty minutes. The first to arrive is Dave, who broke a few laws to get there in quick time, running to his family with a large smile, he wraps them both in his arms.

“It’s a miracle.” He tells them, kissing their heads.

“The neurologist is just in there now.” Hotch tells him as he removes himself from the hug, Dave nods and smiles.

“It’s all okay.” Dave smiles, “She’s awake. She’s back with us. Nothing else matters. Everything else we can deal with.”

Hotch nods with a smile, no time to reply before Garcia is running in, her hair half up on one side and a sleep mask still on her head, her coat half on as she speeds towards them, obviously overwhelmed with joy.

“Where is she!” She shouts with a smile, “Where is my girl?”

“She’s just with the neurologist. We’ll see her soon.” Dave smiles at the woman, who hugs him.

Garcia smiles brightly at Hotch before standing next to Reid, who gently puts her in her jacket and takes of the sleep mask, passing it to her as she laughs.

“I just… came here.” She explains, no time for anymore of an explanation as Morgan runs towards them.

“She’s awake?” He asks, Hotch nods.

He laughs and runs a hand over his face before pulling Reid into his arms.

JJ is next, running in and straight into Garcia’s open arms.

“Our girls back, JJ.” She smiles and JJ laughs.

“I-“ She tries but there are no words to describe her joy.

The neurologist exits the room ten minutes later and jumps at the arrival of a group.

“He wasn’t joking when he said she had an army.” He smiles, the team smiles at him and waits.

“I’m confident in saying there is no brain damage. Not that I noticed in my assessment.” He tells them and the entire team release a breath they’ve been holding for almost two weeks. “Of course I will need to take her for a CT, but I will let you see her before I take her up.” He says, before looking at them all and smiling sadly. “I don’t want to be the kill joy but… I would say for now, maybe one person at a time?” He suggests, “Coma patients can get very overwhelmed very quickly. Agent Prentiss is still on a lot of medication and is still very drowsy.” 

“Of course.” Garcia nods, “One at a time. We can do one at a time.”

“Okay.” The doctor smiles, “I’ll be back down in about an hour to take her to CT and her doctor will be back later to discuss next steps.”

“Thank you.” They all say with a smile before he steps away.

“Go.” Dave tells Hotch, pushing him forward.

“No- You sh-”

“Will you just go in and give her a kiss?” Garcia laughs, pushing the man towards the door and he laughs.

“Thanks.” He says shyly, bowing his head and turning away, taking a breath before opening the door.

He shuts the door behind him and leans against it, exhaling shakily. He smiles when he sees her looking at him, her signature smirk on her face.

“Hey Hotchner,” She plays, tilting her head. He smiles at the sound of her voice. God he’s missed it. “Are you going to come here or have you and the door started a serious relationship while I was gone?”

Hotch laughs and steps towards her, grabbing her hand and sitting on the bed, using his other hand to cup her face, a tear falling down his.

She lifts the hand wrapped in his to wipe it and her heart flutters as he leans into it, his fingers entwined with hers.

“Don't cry.” She whispers, a lump in her throat. “Hey,” She says, when he looks at her she smiles. “I’m okay.”

“You’re okay.” He whispers, laughing. “You scared us..” He tells her.

“Sorry.” She whispers, stroking his cheek. “Aaron.” She says and he looks at her. “Kiss me then.” She smiles and he laughs before kissing her and when he does his head finally stopped spinning. There was no longer any panic rooted in his bones, no more permanent ache in his chest at the thought of losing her. He was able to relax and just be there with her. Just like he always should be. As they separate they smile, his finger strokes her cheek as he kisses her again.

He pulls her necklace from his blazer pocket and dangles it in front of her.

“I’ve been holding onto this for you.” He tells her, the smile on her face as she takes it from him enough to warm his heart.

“Thank you.” She whispers, “It’s. It’s all I left of my Dad..” She explains sadly. “Thank you.” She repeats again and he smiles, placing a kiss on her hand.

“I’m so glad you’re okay.” He whispers, running a hand through her hair and stroking her cheek with his thumb, his joy evident on his face as he beams at her. 

“Me too.” She says back, accepting another kiss from him. “No more near deaths for either of us, okay?” She jokes, his laugh makes her smile as he agrees.

-

JJ goes in next, rushing to her best friend's side and cupping her face.

“If you ever do this to me again I swear I’ll kill you myself.” JJ jokes and Emily smirks, nodding.

“Noted.” She says, and JJ hugs her gently.

“I missed you.”

“I’m missable..” Emily jokes and JJ laughs and kisses her head.

“Welcome back.” She says to the brunette and Emily smiles. “I see you have your necklace back.” She points and Emily chuckles, gracing her finger over it as it lays across her neck. “Hotch has held onto that for dear life over the last week..” JJ explains and Emily looks at her with a sad smile before the blonde changes the subject. “I’m sure you’ll hear all about how Morgan and Reid tried to be hero’s..” JJ smirks and Emily’s lips curl into a smile.

-

Garcia goes next and is all loud screams from the moment she stands.

“Garcia.” Dave says, his tone sounding like a warning, the blonde turns to him before opening the door, “Quiet.. relaxed.. take a deep breath.” He tells her and the woman nods, inhaling before opening the door.

“Protective much?” JJ teases and Dave shrugs.

“She’s his favourite..” Morgan jokes. Dave smiles and doesn’t deny it. Hotch catches his eye and raises a brow as he tries to get hold of Jessica.

“She’s definitely his favourite,” Hotch tells them, “Should have heard the lecture I got ten months ago.”

“I stand by every word.” Dave tells him, pointing a finger in his direction, Hotch chuckles before Jessica finally answers the phone. 

-

Garcia runs to her friend and stops, taking a breath, holding in her joy and Emily just laughs.

“What are you doing?” Emily questions.

“Rossi told me I had to be calm and relaxed. He’s worried about overwhelming you.. because the doctor said too much can overwhelm you and I don’t want to-”

“Pen..” Emily stops her and the blonde looks at her.

“Come here.” Emily says, and she smiles and wraps herself gently in her friends arms.

“You could never overwhelm me.” Emily whispers, “Ever.”

Garcia smiles, tears rolling down her face as she pulls away.

“I’ve missed you my very special friend.” She whispers and Emily laughs.

“I missed you too, silly girl.”

Garcia smiles brightly and kisses her hand. ”Never do this to me again.” She whispers into Emily’s dark hair. 

“I’ll try not to.” She jokes and Garcia pulls away, glaring playfully at her friend, “You can’t get rid of me this easily, Pen. You know that.” 

“I know,” She replies, taking her hand in her own as she sits down on the bed, “Are you okay? Do you need anything? Are you tired? Shall I tell the others to wait for awhile-” 

“Garcia..” Emily stops her with a smile, “I’m okay.” 

Penelope nods and squeezes her hand, “I missed you.” 

-

At Emily’s request, Reid and Morgan go in together and as soon as he sees her, Morgan just exhales, closing his eyes.

“Hey boys,” She smiles, they head towards her and Reid hugs her while Morgan just looks at her, a smile on his face while he takes her hand.

“I missed you.” Reid mutters and Emily runs a hand down his back.

“I missed you too.” She tells him.

“You’re okay?” He whispers, pulling away and she smiles, running a hand over his cheek.

“I’m okay.” She tells him.

“You scared us.” Morgan smiles, “Idiot.”

“Sorry.” She smirks, “I needed a few days off work.”

The men laugh and she smiles.

“I just. I wanted to thank you.. for everything.” She smiles. “JJ and Hotch told me you tried to-” She stops, they nod.

“You’re welcome.” Morgan smiles, wrapping his hand in hers. “It was heavy.” He complains and she laughs.

“How are you?” She asks Reid, “I heard about you needing surgery..” 

“I’m okay.” Reid tells her, “I’ve been more worried about you.” 

“We all have.” Morgan tells her, “You gave us quite the scare, Princess.” He says and Emily looks at them with sad eyes, “But you’re back now and that’s all that matters.” He smiles, placing a kiss on her hand. 

-

Dave is last. As soon as he’s in the room he’s at her side in a second, both hands on the side of her face as he kisses her head.

“Welcome back, Bella.” He mutters and she chuckles.

“I hear you’re warning people not to overwhelm me.” She laughs, he sits on the chair and smiles.

“You’re my favourite,” He shrugs, patting her hand as he holds it, “What can I say?” He smirks and she laughs, leaning her head back on the pillow as her head starts to ache.

“You okay?” He asks, sitting up and placing a flat hand on her head and she chuckles.

“I’m okay.” She says softly, “Tired.” She mutters. He smiles and runs a hand down her cheek tenderly.

“Rest.” He tells her. “I think you’ll be going to CT soon.”

Emily groans in response and he laughs.

“Never do this to me again.” He smirks, a finger pointed at her, “Twice is enough for one lifetime.”

“Sorry..” She smiles, taking his hand and squeezing it. She yawns again and he gently kisses her hand.

“You’ve got a long road ahead of you,” He tells her, “But we’re here.”

“I know.” She says, her eyes flutter closed as she falls asleep and he smiles, placing a soft kiss on her head before standing, glancing back once more at the sight of her breathing on her own and he can’t help but thank whoever may be listening for this miracle. 

-

Two hours and a CT scan later and the team are scattered around the room as they chat to her. Emily sick of seeing them one by one, telling her doctors she was fine and that they're allowed to break the rules, they're the FBI.

JJ and Garcia are sat on two chairs on the left side of her, Hotch on a chair on the opposite side. Neither a fan of PDA but unable to not have some part of him touching her, his hand is rested just next to hers, their little fingers gently wrapped around each other’s under the blanket. 

Morgan is sat on a chair the end of the bed, his legs rested on it as he leans back, a smirk on his face. Spencer is stood, as always, bouncing around the room as he laughs at their conversation and Dave is just watching, sat in a corner with a smile on his face as his family is whole once again. 

 It isn’t long until Emily starts to shut down once again and the team are ushered from the room by the nurse. They put Emily on an IV and tell her to take it easy. That her body is still recovering. Hotch heads back into the room once the nurse exists, before the rest of the team sneak back in, saying their goodnights to her as they head out. Aaron remains sat on the chair as Dave, the last one to leave, of course, gives her another look before heading out of the door. He takes her hand in his and kisses it, resting his elbows on the bed as he looks at her with so much love in his eyes that it makes her heart hammer in her chest, setting of the machine. 

“What’s wrong?” He asks nervously as the fast beeping echo's around the room but Emily just shakes her head. 

“Nothing,” She whispers, a tear falling down her face. Hotch stands before settling on the bed, lowering her down onto the pillow as he runs a hand over her cheek, wiping her tear gently. 

“Get some rest,” He tells her, “I’ll be right here.” He whispers with a smile. 

-

“Go,” Emily tells Aaron two hours later as he procrastinates leaving the room. “I’ll be here tomorrow.” She jokes and he laughs.

“I know, I just-”

“Go home, Aaron.” She says, “Sleep… go and see your son.”

“He’ll be happy to hear you’re awake.” He tells her, “You should have seen him when he was here. He read to you.” Pride beams off his face as he talks about Jack. 

“He’s an angel.” Emily smiles, “How has he been?” 

“I’ll bring him tomorrow.” He tells her and she nods. “He’s been coping well.” 

“Good.” She says, “Now go home.” She tells him, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He leans down and places a soft kiss on her lips before standing with a sigh.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” He nods, before kissing her again, which makes her laugh.

It’s her laugh that he remembers as he travels home that night.

-

Arriving home, he’s shocked to find Jack up and reading on the couch, Jessica tracing a pattern in his hair as he reads. As he shuts the door they both turn and Jessica sends him a huge smile and stands, hopping Jack onto the floor who quickly runs into his dad’s arms.

“Hi Daddy!” Jack smiles, wrapping his arms around his father once he’s in his arms.

“Hey bud,” He smiles, “I have something to tell you.” He says, placing the boy back on the ground and kneeling down to his level.

“Is Emmy okay?” He asks, worry in his face and voice and Aaron nods.

“She’s okay.” He tells Jack, “She’s awake..”

“She is?” Jack asks and his face lights up, his smile large.

“Yeah, and if you want we can go and see her tomorrow.” Aaron tells him, and Jack cheers.

“Yes!” He yells, “Can we not go now?”

Aaron laughs. “Not tonight buddy. It’s late.” 

“But tomorrow.” He says and Aaron nods.

“Tomorrow.”

-

Tomorrow comes quicker than Aaron expects when it’s barley seven and Jack is jumping on his bed.

“Daddy! Daddy!” He shouts, before dropping to his knees and shaking his shoulder.

“Hmm?” Hotch mutters, rolling over and squinting his eyes as he wakes.

“We have to go!” He shouts, “Come on, Daddy!” He groans. “I wanna see Emmy!”

Aaron chuckles and grabs him, pulling him into his chest and the boy laughs, resting his head on his dad.

“It’s a bit early yet, buddy.” He says, kissing the boys head.

“Oh.” He says sadly. Hotch smiles and pats his back.

“How about we get some breakfast and then we can go?”

“Okay!” He shouts, sitting up and running from the bedroom to the kitchen.

-

Once they’re at the hospital, Jack runs in the room with a shout of her name and she laughs. He pushes himself up on the bed and wraps his arms around her, his head in her chest and he sighs in content as her arms wrap around him.

“I missed you.” He tells her, “You slept for really long.” 

“I know. I’m sorry.” She says softly, winking as Aaron walks into the room with a smirk and a sorry on his lips.

“It’s okay.” Jack says to her, moving himself closer to her and closing his eyes.

She kisses his head and he smiles.

“Thank you for not going away. I knew you would come back. Just like you did last time..” He whispers, taking a lock of her hair into his hands as he lays on her. “Are you okay now?” He asks.

“I’m getting there.” She tells him, running a hand across his back comfortingly, “Thank you for reading to me..” She says and he looks at her with a huge smile.

“You’re welcome.” He tells her, “When are you coming home?”

“Soon.” She smiles, he nods in acceptance and rests his head on her chest once again, relaxing into her safe and comforting hold.

The three talk for over an hour before a doctor comes in with a sad smile and an apology on his lips.

Jack hugs her once more.

“See you tomorrow?” He asks as Jessica walks in, his arms tighten around her as though he believes if he lets go she could leave again.

“I’ll see you really soon.” She tells him. He looks at her with wide eyes before accepting her words and heading toward Jessica, who sends Emily a smile. 

Once they’re out of the room the doctor heads back in.

“Hello.” She says, “I’m Doctor Kay.” She smiles. “I’m a physical therapist.” She tells them, before clapping her hands together. “Let’s get you back to one hundred percent shall we?”

-

Day one of her recovery is tough, having had surgery on her leg just over a week ago but barely any movement in it, her leg is stiff and painful. She winces as soon as she stands her weight on it, lifting it off the ground and leaning more weight against Aaron as she should. He holds her up with no protest, his arm wrapped around her waist.

“I know it hurts.” Doctor Kay tells her, standing closely in front of her, “But the more you use it the more it will gain back its strength. Right now your leg doesn’t have the strength it should, but the more weight you put on your other one the more trouble you’ll cause it.” She explains and smiles at Emily, “Just gently place it back on the ground and try and stand straight for me. Equal weight on both sides.”

Emily places her foot back down and bites her lip harshly as she does, almost drawing blood. The arm over Aaron’s shoulder as he holds her up falls as she places equal weight on both legs. She winces, grabbing his suit, pressing her hands into it forcefully as though she could transfer the pain.

“Okay,” Doctor Kay says, “Equal weight on both sides..” She asks and Emily nods, closing her eyes as shooting pains are sent up her leg. “Scale of one to ten how much pain is this causing you?”

“I don’t know.” She says, her voice shaky and obviously trying to hide how much it was hurting her, “Like a seven.. maybe an eight.”

“Okay.” The doctor nods, “Okay, Agent Hotchner.. I’m going to ask you to take a step back. I need to see if she’s able to stand on her own.” She tells him and he looks to her and then to Emily. “I just need to know where we’re staring at so we can work at our best.”

Aaron reluctantly moves his arm from around her waist, she’s smiling as best she can at him as he does, nodding her head that it’s okay. Her hand falls slowly from his back as Aaron steps away. Pain is soon sent shooting up and down her leg and she can’t hold her own weight up, almost hitting the ground, but Aaron’s arm is back around her, keeping her upright and standing her up.

“Okay.” Doctor Kay smiles, “This was good!” She smiles and Emily snorts, leaning some of her weight onto Aaron as she lifts her leg of the ground before sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Good?” She laughs and the woman nods.

“Agent Pre-“

“Emily.” She corrects and the woman smiles.

“Emily.. you’ve had surgery on your leg.. and then were unable to properly set it for almost two weeks. It will take awhile for you to be at full mobility again.. but.. I’m positive that we can get you back there and back into whatever it is that you do in the FBI in no time.” She teases and Emily laughs.

“Okay.” She nods and the woman shakes their hands.

“I’ll be back later and we will try again. Twice a day for as long as you need. As soon as you’re able to do the basics like walk, stand... then we will think about releasing you but working yourself back to where you were will take time. They’ll be no chasing criminals for awhile.”

-

On Day Three she’s advised to take walks around the hospital every few hours. The first to walk with her is Aaron, her hand wrapped around his as they do. Most of her weight is leaned against the cane she hates but has to use, her legs not fully at the strength to hold all of her weight but she’s getting there.

“Jack wants to come again tomorrow.” Aaron tells her with a smile, Emily smiles and nods.

“I’d like that.” She says, he kisses her hand as they walk. She stops and winces slightly after awhile, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath.

“Are you okay?” Hotch asks, panic in his eyes, she nods.

“Yeah..” She breathes, “Just a little sore.”

“Shall we head back?”

Emily shakes her head and pierces her lips. “No,” She says, “I’m okay.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.” She smiles and they carry on their walk around the ICU ward.

-

Later that day it was Dave’s turn. Her arm linked through his as they walked slowly around, talking about everything and anything.

“You didn’t have to come for this, you know.” She smiles, “There are plenty of nurses for this reason.”

“Nonsense.” He says, shaking his head, “I’ve had to do eleven days without you and our conversations, you think I’m going to give it up now?” He teases, and she smiles, resting her head on his shoulder.

“I missed you too.” She tells him and he chuckles, kissing her head.

-

It’s Day Six that she’s discharged with a two hour physical therapy session every week for the next month.

“I look forward to working with you, Emily.” Doctor Kay says as she smiles at her.

“Me too.” Emily says.

“Remember to take things slow for the next few weeks, there will still be some pain for a while.”

“I know.” Emily replies, “Ill see you on Monday.”

“I’ll see you on Monday, we will work on upper leg strength.”

Emily smiles as the woman walks out of the room and when the door shuts Emily sighs, folding herself into Aarons arms, he chuckles as he wraps them around her.

“She’s so.. perky.” She mutters.

“She’s nice.” Aaron tells her and Emily just hums in response. “Come on,” He says, tapping her backside before unwrapping himself from her and taking her hand, “Jack has a surprise for you at home.”

“He does?” She smiles, “How adorable.”

“He’s excited.” Hotch tells her and she smiles, looking to the floor as they walk out of the room at a slow pace while her legs get used to normal use.

“You’ve come far these last few days. A week ago you couldn’t even stand and now..” He says, a proud smile beaming off him, “You’ll be back to one hundred percent before you know it.”

“I hope so.” She says, “I hate this.” She mutters as a slight pain shoots up her thigh at the pressure of it on the ground.

“I know.” He says, kissing her head as they walk towards his car, “I wish there was something I could do.” He tells her as they stop at the car and she turns to face him, placing a soft hand on his cheek.

“You’re doing it.” She smiles, before placing a kiss on his lips, “I love you.” She whispers and he smiles into their kiss.

“I love you too.”

-

Jack cheers and jumps off the couch when Aaron opens the front door.

“Welcome home!” Jack shouts, running to Emily but stopping in front of her with a halt when he remembers about his dad telling him to be careful. That she’s still very sore.

“I made you this.” He smiles, handing her a handmade card. There’s a picture of three stick people on it and some trees.

“It’s us a few weeks ago at the park...maybe when you’re better we can go again.” He tells her, she smiles, holding back her tears and runs a hand through his hair.

“I love it, thank you.” She smiles.

“I’m glad you’re back.” He says to her, grabbing her hand and slowly wrapping his arms around her ‘good’ leg.

“Me too, buddy.” She says, bending down to kiss him on the head.

“Can we make dinner now?” He asks his father who’s looking at the two of them with adoration.

“Of course. Come on.” He says and his son runs towards the kitchen.

He holds his hand out for Emily to take and she laughs and she grabs it, folding herself into him once again as they walk to the kitchen.

An hour later and Aaron comes back into the kitchen after changing out of his suit, stopping and smiling at the sight in front of him.

Emily is standing stirring the sauce, smiling at Jack as he talks to her with a grin on his face, his legs swinging as he sits on the counter. His little boy erupts in laughter when Emily flicks sauce at him.

The sight makes him smile and he knows then what he has to do, what he’s been thinking of doing for a while.

“What’s going on there then?” He announces himself and Jack turns with a grin as Emily smiles, shaking her head.

“Nothing.” She tells him, “Just stirring the sauce.”

“Mhmm.” He hums, raising an eyebrow at the two of them.

“Drink your wine.” She tells him with a grin, and he places a kiss on her cheek as his arm warps around her, his chest against her back before grabbing the glass.

-

Later that night, they’re stood in the kitchen after cleaning up when he grabs her hand gently and pulls her to him. Her hands land on his chest as she smiles.

“Hey.” She says, before kissing him. He kisses back. Pulling away, he moves her hair from her shoulders, running a finger down her spine. She looks at him suspiciously before squinting, “What?” She asks.

“Marry me.” He tells her, resting his arm flat on her back, his other in her hand.

“What?” She asks, her mouth agape in a shocked grin.

“When you’re ready, when you’ve finished with physical therapy and-“ He stops, smiling at her, “I thought I lost you, Emily. Again.” He says to her, pain clear in his voice, “If this last year has taught us anything it’s that life is unpredictable and that we could lose each other at any moment. I want to marry you. I want to spend the life of my life with you.” He says, before pulling a velvet box out of the draw he’s been avoiding for the last week and a half and takes the ring from it. “Emily Prentiss... Marry me?” He smiles, tears welling in his eyes.

Emily is silent, staring at him with wide eyes and a shocked expression, before laughing and pulling him into her, crashing her lips onto his own.

“Yes.” She says as she pulls away, “Of course I’ll marry you.. you big softie.” She laughs, before kissing him again.

They smile against each other’s lips before laughing. He wraps her in his arms as she laughs happily. He grabs her left hand and slides the ring onto her finger, she stares at it with a beaming smile before looking back at him, cupping his face and kissing him. She laughs happily once his lips leave hers and wraps her arms around his neck, he can feel her smile.

“Welcome home.” He whispers into her ear and she smiles harder into his neck. “I love you.”

“I love you too, fiancé.” She whispers and presses a kiss into his neck before laughing happily once again.

Jacks run in the room then and crashes into her leg, she winces in response and the young boy goes pale. 

“I’m sorry!” He shouts, tears welling in his eyes. Emily turns from Aarons hold and looks down at Jack, smiling and shaking her head. 

“It’s okay.” She tells him, running a hand through his fastly growing hair, “You just scared me, that’s all.” 

“Not hurt?” He questions, his voice quiet and soft. 

“No, baby,” She says gently, leaning down to pick him up and balance him on her hips. He’s small for his age and it’s in moments like these that Hotch embraces the petiteness he gets from his mother. He's sure he’ll grow to be taller than him in no time and he will enjoy the small little boy for as long as he can. “You didn’t hurt me.” 

The six year old relaxes and rests his head on her shoulder, looking at his father with a smile. Aaron pulls the two of them into him and presses a kiss on Emily’s temple as her shoulder rests on his chest, he bops his sons nose and smiles when he crinkles his face. 

Yeah, Aaron thinks, He totally wants this forever. 

-

They decide against telling their friends until they knew when they’d be able to get married, not wanting to rush into it before Emily had recovered completely.

“I want to walk down the aisle, Aaron. Not limp.” She’d told him when he’d asked when she wanted to get married. “Can’t we just... be, for awhile?

“Absolutely.” He’d replied, pulling her into him as he sat on the bed, she twisted to sit on his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck, resting her head on his shoulder. “I’d be happy to sit like this forever.” He tells her with a smile and she laughs, pressing a kiss on his lips as runs a hand under her shirt and traces a finger down her spine.

-

Two weeks into her physical therapy, she was able to walk at a normal pace with no pain, able to stand on equal weight on both legs and was on her way to being back at almost full function.

“You’ve come far in these two weeks, Emily. I’m impressed.”

“Yeah, well.. I like to excel at things.” She jokes and the doctor laughs.

“Okay, one more round of this and then we will call it for today.” The doctor tells her, “I am, however, comfortable enough with your improvements to sign you off to going back to work.”

“Really?” Emily asks, shocked.

“As long as you promise to take it easy, you’re not at the level you were at before the accident. Any strain or over work on your leg could set us back weeks.. maybe months.”

“I’ll take it easy.” Emily says, smiling when she passes her the doctors note.

“One more round. Go.” The doctor says.

-

“You’re sure you’re ready?” Hotch asks her later that night while they’re laying in bed.

“Yeah.. I mean, I can profile and rest my leg at the same time.” She jokes, “I’m not expecting myself to be able to be back on the field. Not completely.”

“Good. Because I wasn’t going to let you.” He grins, before placing a kiss on her lips.

“When shall we tell the team about this?” She says, and holds up her left hand, the diamond ring sparkling as it catches the moon's reflection in the window.

“Probably before you start back at work.” He tells her.

Probably.” She agrees with a laugh, before curling her body into Aaron’s.

Aaron is asleep for maybe three hours when the patter of small bare feet running across the floor wakes him. He turns to find Emily still peacefully sleeping next to him, hair spread over her face as her head tilts to the left. He looks over to the door to listen as he remembers the sound of his son’s feet running on the floor waking him. The door opens slowly and Aaron doesn't announce that he’s awake, he just watches in the dark as he son slowly creeps into the room.

“Jack?” Hotch says and the boy turns quickly, “What are you doing?” He whispers. 

“I had a bad dream.” He tells his dad, walking over slowly as Hotch pats the bed. 

“Are you okay?” He asks him and Jack looks at him. 

“Emmy died..” He says quietly and when Jack reaches him he notices the tears down his son’s face and his heart breaks.

“Emily’s okay.” Hotch tells him, “See.” He points, bringing the boy into his arms. 

“Can I sleep in here?” He asks softly and Hotch sighs and kisses his head. 

“Just for tonight, okay?” Hotch says, placing the boy in the middle of the bed, the dip in the mattress causes Emily to wake and as she squints her eyes open, she smiles at the young boy staring at her. 

“Hi.” He says, “I had a bad dream.” 

“You did?” She asks, running a hand over his forehead as he lays down, “Are you okay?” 

The six year old nods and pushes himself further into the bed before sighing and closing his eyes and, like always, he’s out instantly. 

Emily looks over at Aaron as he lays back down and he shakes his head.

“It’s going to be fine.” She says to him, grabbing his had as he throws it gently over his son to reach her. 

“Yeah..” He sighs, rubbing his thumb over her fingers. 

It was fine, Jack didn’t have a nightmare like that again. 

-

They tell the team that weekend when they all meet at the park for Jack’s soccer game. 

The only thing either of them can remember about it is Garcia’s screams that turned to cries, before pulling Emily into her arms with talks about how she’s going to help her find the perfect dress, before screaming again. Dave wrapping his arms around the both of them before demanding he host and officiate the wedding. 

Everything else turns into a massive blur after JJ sends Will off to go get some champagne. 

-

Four weeks after Emily wakes from the coma she is officially back at a level everyone is comfortable with enough to send her on her way. 

“Remember. Keep working on your physical therapy, don’t over do it straight away. Start small and work your way up to where you were. You can’t expect to be exactly where you were before the accident straight away. This will take time.” 

“I know.” Emily smiles, “Thank you.. for everything.” 

“You’re more than welcome. It’s been a pleasure to get to know you, Agent Prentiss. You’ll be back to your full self in no time and it will be like it never happened..”

“I look forward to that.” She smiles, before shaking the Doctors hand. “I mean it. Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome. Now go. Get married.” Doctor Kay says and Emily laughs. 

“I will.” She smiles, before leaving the ward. 

“Don’t over do it!” The doctor shouts with a laugh and Emily turns, laughing. 

“I’m getting married,” She shouts back, “What could I possibly over do?” She jokes and both women laugh as she leaves the doors. 

-

That night, the team are standing in Dave’s backyard, chairs set out, bright lights hung around the place, soft music playing in the background as Hotch, Jack, Reid and Morgan stand at the front on one side and JJ and Garcia stand at the other. Emily is walked down the aisle by Dave, a soft smile on their faces as he whispers something to her. 

Their vows are simple and sweet and as Jack passes each of them the rings, his little giggle echoes throughout the garden, making everyone smile. 

“You may now kiss the bride.” Dave announces and everyone cheers. 

Just one month ago, they didn’t know if they’d ever be a team again and now here they stand, in Dave’s backyard once again, as they watch Emily and Aaron have their first kiss as husband and wife. 

[ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa]

Bogotá Kiss

Prologue: There Was a Boy

Summary/Author’s Note: Javier Peña had finally gotten his life together. He was a newlywed, back in the states with his bride, and starting his new life free of Escobar and the world of the cartels. That is until he found his wife in bed with another man. On a path of self destruction, he goes back to Bogota, reclaims his job with the DEA, his partner Steve Murphy, and throws himself into his work, cheap whiskey, and the company of his...informants. 

You are a singer in the hottest burlesque club in Columbia. Pulling yourself out of poverty and into a world where men throw money at your feet, buy you diamonds, and pay untold amounts for your services. You don’t mind that the club’s biggest source of income is smuggling diamonds from the necks, wrists, and ears of its prostitutes and into the pockets of their buyers, until a handsome DEA agent gets too close and figures out the scheme. 

**IMPORTANT: For those familiar with Moulin Rouge--The reader will NOT die at the end. Fuck that. Let Javi be happy god dammit. 

Pairing: Javier Peña x Reader (Moulin Rouge/French Kiss AU) Word Count: 1.6k (its just a prologue, the next chapter will be better) Warnings (for entire fic): NC-17/18+ - Language, sex, prostitution, mentions/implied R*pe (nothing will ever be described in detail or used as a plot device), typical canon violence for NARCOS, shooting, attempted murder, drug use, blackmail, hurt/comfort, lies and betrayal, happy ending

[MASTERLIST]

"It's not what it looks like."

People didn't actually say that line, did they? And worse yet, no one actually would possibly believe it. Right? The words fell from her lips and suddenly Javier Peña felt like he was watching a movie about someone else's life. A cliché of a film in which the idiot of a husband walked in on his wife bouncing on the dick of another man. He was that idiot, and as she scrambled off the lap of the stranger and called his name, he slammed the door behind him, not bothering to wait for an explanation. Queue the laugh track or cut to the scene of him walking in the rain to somber music. 

Only this wasn't a movie. There would be no comedic relief, just a lot of heartache, wasted time and money. He had always had a bad habit of falling for the wrong girl. He would see himself mirrored in the eyes of the broken, the depressed, the ones who, much like him, just seemed unable to catch a break in life. But instead of getting a kindred spirit to share his world with, he usually just got a lot of baggage and a quick lay.  

He packed a bag, not giving a shit about any of his worldly possessions, and found himself at the Dallas airport, sitting at the bar and waiting for his gate number to be called. 

He raised two fingers, letting the bartender know he wanted a fucking double, as he held his cellphone to his ear and listened to it ring. The boxy phone didn't fit comfortably against his shoulder and he dropped it just as the other end picked up and Steve's voice came through.

"Murphy."

"Fuck. Shit." Javier fumbled the phone and held it back against his face.

"Javi?"

"Yeah, it's me." Javier sighed as he picked up his whiskey and tossed it back with a mild wince. "I'm on my way back."

"I heard." Steve paused. "Carolyn called. I told her I didn't know where you were."

"Thanks, 'appreciate it."

"I talked to Noonan. She said your job's still open. You can have it and the keys to your apartment." 

They both paused for an extended period of time. Javier ordered another shot of whiskey and Steve breathed quietly on the other end of the phone. Neither one of them had to say out loud what they both already knew. Javier had fallen for the wrong girl, again. His heart was broken and he wanted to drown out the ache he was feeling in cheap booze, a carton of Marlboro, and expensive pussy. 

"I'll pick you up from the airport. Safe trip, Jav."

"Thanks, Murph."

Javier pressed the button on the phone and rubbed his forehead with a heavy sigh. It was all smooth sailing from here. He was on his way back to normalcy, back to doing what he did best, hunting Narcos and not having any emotional ties to anything that mattered. 

--

The car ride from the airport had been quiet for the most part but Javier could tell that Steve was just dying to ask. So, when they parked in front of the apartment and neither one of them moved, he dug his smokes out of his jacket pocket and rolled down the window. He flicked his silver lighter to life and inhaled deeply as Steve shut off the engine. 

"Go ahead. Ask."

Steve sighed and looked at his friend. "What happened, man?"

"I let it go too far, like an idiot. And she couldn't even wait until the honeymoon was over before she tripped and landed on some other man's dick." He inhaled deeply and ran his thumb along his mustache. 

"Shit. I'm sorry--"

"Don't," Javier cut him off and shook his head. "Okay? Don't."

"You file for divorce?"

"Yeah," he nodded. "Lawyer is drawing everything up now so we can sign it." 

"I know you don't want to hear it, but I'm sorry, Javi. You seemed happy." Steve looked at him and Javier flicked his cigarette out of the window. 

"Yeah, I know." He took another long drag of his cigarette before tossing the butt out onto the sidewalk. “Tell Connie I said ‘hi’, okay?” 

With a mumbled thanks for the ride and a couple of quick 'see you tomorrows', he opened the car door and grabbed his suitcase out of the back seat and walked up the stairs and into the apartment building. He went through the motions of coming back to this place that he knew quite well, as he went downstairs and stuck his keys in the door without needing to turn on a light. 

He tossed his keys on the side table and kicked the door shut gently as he dropped his shoulder bag and looked around. The only furniture that the place had was the old embassy supplied leather couch, scuffed up coffee table, and bar stools against the kitchen counter. Fuck. That settled what he would be doing tomorrow, getting all his furniture out of storage and having the embassy replace what he didn’t have. 

Before tossing his leather jacket on the back of the couch, he got out another cigarette and let it bob between his lips as he mumbled to himself. He inhaled deeply and tossed his lighter next to his keys before making his way to the kitchen. When he opened the fridge, he didn’t know if he wanted to run upstairs and kiss her, or if he wanted to clutch his chest and cry. 

The entire appliance was completely bare and wiped out, the light making the white shelves look entirely too bright, but sitting in the middle of the top shelf was a covered casserole of some kind and a bottle of whiskey. A note was taped to the tin foil that read: 

“Bake at 350 for 30 minutes. Please eat something while you drink this. -- love, Connie.”

At least Steve knew how to pick a woman, because that’s exactly what Connie was, one hell of a woman. Javier grabbed the bottle of liquor and mentally promised Connie that he would eat later. He wasn’t hungry. He really hadn’t been hungry for the last few days, and as he looked at the whiskey and cracked the seal on the lid, he didn’t mourn that the kitchen didn’t have any glasses. He was well beyond the need for a glass. 

He took the bottle to the couch, kicked off his boots and plopped down heavily. The whiskey was a familiar burn down his throat and he felt it all the way to his belly. Warm, inviting, and just what he needed. Another drink was followed by a long drag of his cigarette before he kick backed and muttered, “Home, sweet, home,” to a cold, empty house.

--

The banging on the door permeated his skull in a way that he didn’t think was possible. But then again it had been a long time since he had been this hungover. He rolled over on the leather couch and shoved his face into the cushions and prayed that whoever wanted him would just go away. There was no one on this green earth that he wanted to speak to.

He must have fallen back asleep briefly because the next thing he knew, his partner had let himself into his apartment with his spare key and was nudging his leg that was hanging off the side of the couch. 

“Javi,” Steve said as he plucked the empty liquor bottle from under his friend’s arm. “Javi!” 

“Is too early,” Javier mumbled into the leather of the sofa.

“It’s 4 in the afternoon.” Steve said, setting the bottle on the coffee table. “I told Noonan you were taking the weekend to unpack--” Steve looked around the apartment and then back to the horizontal man. “Looks like you’re done.”

“Fuck you.”

Steve shook his head and put his hands on his hips. “Come on. You need a shower. I’d offer to buy you a drink but you smell like you’ve got that taken care of. So, how about a lap dance? There’s this new place on the other side of town--got your name written all over it.”

“Go away.”

Steve, rubbed his hand down his face and glared at the shell of the man that he had gotten to know over the last couple of years. The day Javier Peña turned down a lap dance, it would have been a cold day in hell and yet the evidence was right there in front of him. Someone needed to tell the devil to go check his thermostat.

“Mmkay.” Steve said sharply and took the empty bottle over to the sink and filled it about half way with tap water. When he dumped it on top of Javier’s head, the way the dark-haired man sputtered and sat straight up brought him more joy than it probably should have. “Good morning!”

“F-fucking hillbilly,” Javier cursed as he pulled the hem of his shirt up to wipe his face.

“Get your ass in the shower and I won’t tell Con that you didn’t eat her food she left you.” When his friend paused long enough to lower his shirt and glare at him, Steve continued. “I’m not fuckin’ around, Javi.”

The two men stood at odds of one another, but the blond refused to relent. Javier shoved his now soaking wet hair back from where it was plastered to his face and nodded. He stood with a groan and gave Steve his middle finger as he trudged to the bathroom at the end of the hall.

“Missed you, too, bud!” Steve cupped his hands around his mouth in a mock yell after the other man’s retreating form. It was going to be a long road to getting his partner back to his usual self, but the natural place to start was with some no-strings-attached pussy.

--

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[mediocrevideopodcast]

Chicago Lightning

Summary: You and the rest of the Mud Dogs plan a heist on a bank, and end up getting into a pretty serious gun fight. It’s way different from what you usually attempt, but where there’s a will, there’s a way. 

[A/N: Good evening, fellow Mud Dogs enjoyers <3 These three live in my head rent FREE and by god, I’m gonna make that everyone else’s problem.]

Content Warnings: Gunfights, mild arson, copious swearing, crime, and the fear of death. Nobody dies, and there’s a happy ending. <3

Pairing: Mud Dogs/Reader (Platonic/Familial) 

Word Count: 1572

God, your ears are gonna be fucking ringing tomorrow. Whoever suggested staging a robbery is certainly going to get a verbal beating, if you even make it out of here in the first place. The deafening “crack” of a bullet tearing by instinctively pushes you further into the white, porcelain countertop, and you blindly fire a few rounds from behind cover. Your ears ring at the noise, and your legs ache dully from crouching down for so long. 

“What’s the plan?” You yell, glancing nervously towards the pillar where Leonard’s taking cover. 

“I don’t know!” he yells back, “Give me a minute to think!” He taps his fingers against the muzzle of the glock, eyes glancing around the building. Dust from ricocheting bullets clouds the air, sending pits of granite and porcelain dust through the room. The light filters through them, although just barely so. You hardly even recognize the building anymore, you think to yourself. Leonard fires a few shots from behind the pillar before taking cover once more, looking up at the ceiling with furrowed brows. 

“Hate to burst your bubble, Loathsome,” Danny yells from your left, “But we’re already a bit behind the eight ball here. We don’t have time to spare!” 

“Yeah, no shit!” Mickey yells, “And I’m not really in my element, either.” He fires off a couple shots, and the recoil from the gun is obvious despite his white-knuckle grip on the firearm. He scowls, turning to fire off a few more shots from the other side of the counter. What he lacks in experience he makes up for in pure gusto.

“Easy on the lightning, pal!” Danny calls, “we ain’t exactly armed to the teeth, here. If we run out of ammo, we’re screwed!” 

“I’ve got it!” Leonard yells to you, “Grab those bottles of hand sanitizer off the counter and throw ‘em to Mickey. We’re gonna light it on fire, throw it at ‘em, and bolt for the back.” 

“Then what?” You say, grabbing the bottles and throwing them to your friend. 

“Steal a fucking car, I guess? What else?” 

“Sounds good to me!” Mickey calls. His eyes light up as he disassembles the bottles, twisting and turning a few paper bills to create a sizable fuse that leads out of the liquid disinfectant, like the true firebug he is. If they land just right, it should spread quickly enough to get out of control. If they land perfectly, that is. But you’re not gonna have time to tell, are you? You just have to pray that it does, and if it doesn’t, that it burns hot enough to stall them. Oh, how you’re lamenting skipping out on that oxidation unit in chemistry class.  

“Just tell me when!” He shouts, although you can barely hear him over the crack of yet another bullet flying by, a little too close for comfort. 

You look back towards the emergency exit, steeling yourself to run. The bright red sign flickers slowly, just barely clinging to life after being struck with a stray bullet. You tear your eyes away from the door, glancing at your friends nervously. The air between all of you isn’t peaceful: not by any means. But it’s full of understanding: An understanding that if there’s any real, perfect way to go out, it would be right here. Danny’s grip tightens on his gun, and the tip of his tail twitches slightly, as though he were fighting the sensation entirely. Leonard’s eyes flit around the room quickly, scowling down the opposition on the other side of the building. Yet when he turns to the rest of you, his eyebrows soften. And Mickey’s apprehension… God, he’s doing a great job of hiding it. He smiles brightly, but the look in his eyes clearly conveys his thoughts. His fingers twitch around the plastic bottle, peeling at the wrapper as though looking for something to tether him to the world. The pops of your enemy’s guns might as well be static, for all you care. 

But it’s the chipping of porcelain, the crack of a supersonic bullet whizzing past you, and the pop of yet another gun that brings you out of your stupor. The corner of the porcelain countertop chips off and falls to your feet, and you can feel your heart leap into your chest. Had you been leaning out any farther, you’d be dead. Your breath catches in your throat, and you throw yourself deeper into cover. You whip your head around to Leonard, steeling your nerves and throwing him a firm nod. 

“On three!” He shouts. 

“One!”

Inhale. You’re all gonna be okay. 

“Two!” 

Exhale. You shoot one last look at your friends and set your eyes on the door.

“Three!” 

Mickey shocks the flammable paper leading out of the bottle and chucks it towards the entrance of the building the moment it forms a strong and steady flame. And for a moment, the world moves in slow motion. It arcs wildly, but the flame persists nonetheless, crawling its way into the bottle. It hits the ground with a thunk - much less grand than your traditional molotov, you remark sarcastically - and splatters. The flame jumps from puddle to puddle, quickly spreading out of control. The rest of the containers are thrown haphazardly, which only fuels the intense and wild flames: it eats at the carpet, the walls, anywhere it can reach. And with that, all four of you bolt towards the exit. 

Your feet pound against the carpet, and you’re the first to reach the door. You ram your shoulder against the bar, opening it quickly for everyone to follow out. You bolt for the nearest car, looking back once to make sure everyone’s made it out. And sure enough, they have. The nearest car is an old four-door, and you pray to every deity you can think of as you race towards it. You shoot at the passenger side window, shattering the glass almost instantly, and you throw your hand through the jagged pieces to unlock the car as quickly as possible. You throw open the car door, ripping off your jacket and throwing it over the broken glass on the seat before patting around the car for a spare key. You don’t have any fucking time to hotwire the damn thing, and who the fuck knows what year this thing is from? 

You breathe a sigh of relief when you find it and clamber into the car, jamming the jagged end of the key into the ignition and smiling as the car roars to life. Danny is the second to reach the car, sliding over the hood to hop in the passenger side. Mickey is the third, as Leonard runs behind him, providing covering fire for the smaller man. You reach behind your seat, pulling up the lock for him to tear open the door. And with that, Leonard runs the final few feet to the car, throwing himself in the door that’s already open and sliding in next to Mickey. You don’t waste a second, throwing the car into reverse before speeding out of the lot. 

The force throws you harshly back into your seat, but you can’t help but laugh. “We made it out! Holy shit!” You put the pedal to the metal, gripping the steering wheel tightly as you floor it down the street. The buildings zip by so fast that they’re hardly more than a blur, and you revel in the adrenaline rush. The boys laugh alongside you, still reeling from their escape. You swerve off the small street and onto the highway; hopefully, you’ll be able to turn off onto the countryside at some point and find a remote place to lie low while the heat dies down. A farmhouse would be nice, you hum to yourself, although who really knows where you’ll end up this time? 

Mickey leans forward through the armrest. “Dude,” he laughs, “that was the coolest shit ever!” 

“We almost died,” Danny chuckles, dragging his hand along the armrest, flicking off little pieces of glass as he goes, “But I have to admit... it was pretty incredible.” 

“See? I told you guys I had it all figured out,” Leonard says, “And look at all this fucking cash! Even after Big Mama’s cut, we’re still gonna be rich.” 

“And did you see how quickly that fire spread? You might as well have doused the damn building in Everclear!” Mickey laughs, “Something tells me that place won’t be there tomorrow.” 

The highway is practically abandoned, perhaps because of the recent events. And for that, you’re thankful. You’re sure that in a few minutes you’ll be chased down by those blue and red lights, but for now, everything is okay. You press the pedal down as far as you can, making as much distance as possible before the chase starts up once more, and you chuckle. Danny rests his arm on the window, picking up little pieces of shattered glass off of his seat and throwing it out onto the highway. That’ll be someone else’s problem then, you think to yourself. He meets your gaze with a smile, and you return it happily. Mickey and Leonard shove each other playfully in the back seat as they rifle through the duffle bags, presumably counting your earnings. 

“So,” you muse, “how many days do you think it’ll take before we can go to a restaurant without getting arrested?”

[sub-rosepetals]

Payback

warnings: handjob, fooling around with another person in the room, hickeys, shower sex

You woke up much earlier than you wanted to, huffing and rolling out of bed, knowing you were already awake and wouldn't be able to fall back asleep. You pulled on a pair of shorts and went into your bathroom, splashing water on your face and combing out your hair. You started to walk downstairs to the kitchen when you heard water running in your brother's bathroom. There was no way he was awake, he wouldn't be caught doing anything other than sleeping before eleven o'clock. 

You furrowed your brow, creeping closer to the bathroom. Your brother's bedroom door was open and, sure enough, Namjoon was passed out on the bed in some weird starfish pose. Jimin must've stayed the night, you thought as you saw the crumpled bed sheets on the other side of the bed. You chewed on your lip thoughtfully as you realized it was Jimin who was in the bathroom, taking a shower.

Before you could change your mind, you carefully unlocked the bathroom door with your fingernail. As much as you hated how easy the doors in your house were to unlock, you were grateful for it in this moment.You padded into the bathroom silently, closing and re-locking the door behind you. The room was filled with swirling steam, the floor slippery with condensation.

"Jimin?" you said, making your voice sound casual.

"What the hell," Jimin’s voice was quiet and unsure, like he couldn't bring himself to sound irritated. He also couldn't yell— that would wake your brother up.You laughed quietly at the sound of his voice, something inside you stirring. Warmth blossomed across your stomach and chest, and you felt strangely brave. 

You slipped out of your shorts and pajama shirt easily, leaving your bare skin exposed to the bathroom's humid air. You bit down on your lip for a moment before pulling the curtain aside.

"What are you do—" he cut himself off the second he saw your bare skin. You gave him a little smile, slipping into the shower with him and pulling the curtain shut.

As much as you wanted to have all the power, to get him back for the little stunt he pulled yesterday, you couldn't stop yourself from letting your eyes roam Jimin’s body. His shoulders were muscular, leading down to his perfectly toned stomach. His skin was light and smooth, like every inch of his body had been carved from marble. Completely perfect. 

Your eyes followed the planes of his chest up to his neck, his jaw, his face. His eyes were dark with surprise and arousal, skimming your body as hungrily as you had his. Water droplets clung to his hair, which was pushed back to reveal his forehead. His eyes finally came to rest on yours, too.

"What are you trying to do here?" his voice was a raspy growl.

You shrugged a little bit, "Payback."

"Really?" he chuckled darkly, "This seems a little extreme."

"What you did to me last night was a little extreme," you reminded him, thinking back to the previous night, when he had slipped his fingers inside of you underneath the table when your brother was right there.

You brought your face closer to his and he inhaled sharply. You knew his restraint was this close to snapping, but he didn't want to let it happen. Jimin let you pull your body closer to his, the hot water running down your back and soaking your hair. His breathing was ragged, his chest rising and falling erratically. You suppressed a giggle at the affect you had on him.

You glanced down at his lips before locking your eyes with his again. He bit down on his lip, and finally touched you. You felt his fingers graze against your thigh, ghosting upwards until they came to rest softly on your waist. You shivered at his touch, the feel of his skin on yours igniting every inch of your body. Jimin tilted his head, leaning in closer to you. You felt your breath catch this time as you placed your hand on his neck, letting your fingers brush against his collarbone and jawline before letting your fingers rest on his skin. 

You could feel his breath on your lips, both of you breathing raggedly. He leaned in, his lips so close to brushing against yours. Suddenly, there was a knock at the door."Hey, man, I need my toothbrush." It was your brother.

"Uh.. can you wait?" Jimin said, moving his face away from yours and clearing his throat to make his voice sound normal.

Your brother chuckled, "No, I'm going early today. I'm just gonna grab it really quick."

You heard the lock start to turn, and you froze as you realized your clothes were still on the ground.

"My clothes," you hissed as you darted to the side of the shower. You grabbed your shirt and pajama shorts, burying them quickly under Jimin's clothes which, thank god, were baggy enough to hide yours.

Jimin grabbed your waist and yanked you back into the shower just as the bathroom door swung open.

Thank you, you mouthed to him. He nodded slightly.

"You're up early," Namjoon commented.

Jimin's mouth mashed into a hard line as he realized Namjoon was probably going to be here for a minute, he was completely unaware that this was the worst possible time for him to talk to Jimin.

"Yeah, guess I just couldn't sleep," he replied casually.

Suddenly, you got the most evil idea you had ever gotten. You bit your lip to suppress a smile as you gently grabbed Jimin's dick. His eyes went wide as he stared down at you, his eyebrows snapping together.

You ignored him, slowly moving your hand up and down. You circled his head with your thumb, and he bit down on his lip so hard you were surprised he didn't draw blood.

"Where the hell is my toothbrush?" you heard Namjoon say absentmindedly.

Jimin ignored him as you sped up, pumping him faster. His eyes fluttered closed, his head falling back in pleasure. You smiled, the look of ecstasy on his face was enough to make you dripping wet, and not just because you were in the shower.

"Have you seen my toothbrush?" Namjoon asked. You smiled evilly as Jimin snapped his head up, realizing he was going to have to form a coherent response.

"Uh.. no—" he barely got the words out before you sped up again, making him grab the bar attached to the wall with clawed hands. His arms tensed as his head fell back again, biting down on his lip to stop any noise from coming out.

"Ugh," Namjoon complained. You could hear him clattering around in his drawers as he searched for his stupid toothbrush. Jimin's chest rose and fell quickly as he grew harder in your hand. He looked down at you, panicking. You knew he was going to cum, and he wouldn't be able to stay quiet if he did.

"Found it!" your brother cried. Jimin ignored him, but you could see him getting closer and closer to the edge.

Suddenly, Jimin leaned forward, his lips latching hungrily onto your neck. You let out a tiny gasp, praying your brother didn't hear you. Jimin's mouth explored your skin, nipping it and leaving rough kisses. It only took you a few moments to figure out what he was doing: he couldn't make noise if his mouth was busy. Not that you were complaining.

The two of you were a mess. Jimin breathed heavily onto your skin as he kissed it with growing intensity. You pumped him up and down, faster and faster, your own head falling back as his lips worked wonders on your neck.

"Aight, I'll see you at school," Namjoon finally said. Jimin didn't bother to answer. Namjoon was silent for a few seconds before you heard the bathroom door open and close, the lock clicking back into place.

You only waited a few seconds, just long enough to make sure your brother was really gone, before Jimin finally lost it. He released your skin from the attack of his mouth, his head falling back and his back arching with pleasure. His perfect lips formed an O as moans fell from his mouth. You lost yourself in him, his ecstasy lighting your entire body on fire.

Jimin bucked his hips forwards, thrusting into your hand harder. You bit down on your lip as his hands found your waist, pulling you closer to him. You gasped quietly as his head fell onto your shoulder. He moaned into your skin, his eyes closed tightly.

"F-Fuck," Jimin whined into your shoulder, "I'm g-gonna c-cum."

"Go ahead and finish, baby," you whispered, nipping your teeth against his ear gently.

Jimin took your permission immediately, his body clenching up. You felt him start to shake until he finally let out one last whimper, louder than the others, and came into your hand. You pumped him slowly a few more times, letting him ride out his orgasm until the end, before you stopped.

"Oh god," he said breathlessly, letting his head rest on your shoulder for a few more seconds as he caught his breath.

"Yeah," was your reply. Somehow you were just as out of breath as he was.

You stood there, your bodies intertwined as Jimin surrendered himself to you, until the water ran cold.

[celosiaa]

Short sickfic/whump prompt: based on the brief instances when I've heard him sing, I know for a fact that Alex J Newall has quite a good singing voice (+ a really pretty vibrato 😍), and lately I've been thinking a lot about Martin singing to Jon as a way of calming and comforting him when he's ill or upset. So, a hurt/comfort scene involving singing, perhaps? ♥️

I loved this prompt!!! Thank you so much!  Here is a short-ish fic about the transition between the Corruption and the Stranger, and the domains having an impact on Jon’s wellbeing. 

The song in this fic is “Your Song” by Elton John, which you should definitely give a listen while you read!  Please enjoy <3

Just a little longer.

Just hold on a bit, and he’ll be fine.

We’ll be fine.

Sniffling into his sleeve, Martin watches Jon sleep from where he’s curled up with his back against the tree, trying his best not to shiver in the cold he knows is not really there.  After they’d left the sick village, Jon had grown weaker and weaker as they approached the next domain—his steps stumbling, his breathing ragged and worn—until Martin had at last forced them to stop.  Jon had begun rambling, the words so badly slurred together he couldn’t make any of them out, and the ashen tone of his complexion was enough to convince Martin he was on the verge of blacking out.  The way Jon was shaking…he couldn’t help but settle him beneath their blanket, head pillowed on a small pile of their hopelessly wrinkled clothes, though he knows for a fact a steadily climbing fever is wracking his body.

He swipes at his own brow, nose wrinkling against the sweat he finds there, before tipping his head back against the tree in an effort to stem the flow of this sudden congestion.  Best he can figure, Jon had been overwhelmed with…well, whatever goes on inside his head these days, and with him weakened, it left both of them vulnerable to the effects of the Corruption.  What else could possibly explain this illness out of nowhere, and the heat rolling off the man next to him in billows?

Jon shifts a little beneath the blanket, muttering feverishly with furrowed brows—the sight bringing hot, stinging tears into Martin’s eyes at once.

Damned fever, always making me weepy.

He swipes at his eyes in frustration, the buzzing in his sinuses building to a peak as he does—forcing him to turn away to stifle a few miserable sneezes into his sleeve.  It seems his efforts to be quiet were unsuccessful, however—as Jon begins to move about in earnest, letting out a low moan that turns quickly into exhausted coughing.

“Sorry, Jon, I’m sorry,” Martin mutters, letting his knees fall toward him as he reaches for his forehead.

God, that’s horrendous.

He can’t help but wince at the heat he finds there—burning even against his own feverish palm.  The coughing hasn’t stopped either, growing deeper by the moment, enough that it’s starting to sound a bit concerning.

“You alright?” Martin asks against the scratching of his own throat, lightly resting a hand on Jon’s chest.

It seems as though Jon did not hear him, merely continuing to cough wetly until his lungs at last settle down.  When he finishes, he leans back against the makeshift pillow, breathing as deeply as he can, the dampness crackling through his lungs even as he does.

“You okay?” Martin repeats, running a hand up and down Jon’s clammy forearm.

Still, Jon does not reply, merely closing his eyes and muttering—statements, Martin’s sinking heart tells him, all jumbled together in miles and miles of words of pain, of suffering, of sorrow.  It kills him to see Jon carry it all, and know he can do nothing.

Please please wake up

“Jon, can you hear me?” he asks, turning away for a moment to cough into his elbow.  “I’m right here, sweetheart—come back to me if you can.”

Grasping his hand tightly, Martin bends down to press a kiss on Jon’s forehead, willing him to return, to say something, anything—

When he pulls back, the muttering has stopped—though only in voice, for Jon’s lips still move erratically around whatever words the Eye is pouring into his mind.

And now tears have begun to slip down his face.

“Oh, darling,” Martin sighs worriedly, cupping Jon’s face in his hands and brushing the tears away with the pads of his thumbs.

To his dismay, Jon takes a gasping inhale beneath his hands, eyes blown wide and wild, before wrenching forward into devastating, guttural sobs.

“Oh god, oh Jon, come here—”

Martin pulls Jon up into his arms, keeping a gentle hold around his trembling frame, hands wrapping around his torso and resting at the nape of his neck.  In desperation, Jon clutches at Martin’s back, hands fisting into the folds of his jacket as his breaths pick up both shallowness and speed.

“Shh, shh—I’ve got you, darling, just hush now,” Martin soothes shakily, rocking him ever so softly back and forth, one hand reaching up to massage his scalp in a way he knows Jon usually finds relaxing.

But it’s all for naught, as he only continues to sob harder into his shoulder, hands clenching and unclenching in distress.  It dismal, it’s horrid, it’s gut-wrenching—and Martin has no idea how to make it stop.

I’ve got to calm him.

There’s got to be something.

All at once, he is flooded with a memory of the two of them back at the safehouse—Martin in his boxers, Jon in his flannel pyjamas—in the kitchen, laughing and dancing to—

Martin clears his throat, and begins to sing.

It's a little bit funny, this feelin' inside

I'm not one of those who can easily hide

The hands clutching at his jacket begin to loosen, and Martin cannot help but smile.

I don't have much money, but boy, if I did

I'd buy a big house where we both could live

And it’s so clear in his mind’s eye now, that for a moment, he’s sure that Jon is letting him See—the two of them in a proper house, with a dog and a garden and grey in their hair.  It’s the loveliest thing Martin has ever longed for.

So excuse me forgettin', but these things I do

You see, I've forgotten if they're green or they're blue

Jon has fully relaxed in his arms now, his breathing slowing down with every line of the song that Martin knows he’s mixed up the words for. Taking a pause for just a moment, he plants a kiss on the top of Jon’s head, swaying him side to side with the rhythm.

Anyway, the thing is, what I really mean

Yours are the sweetest eyes I've ever seen

At first, he thought he’d imagined it—but Jon’s chest moves in a small shudder of a laugh, face still pressed into Martin’s shoulder.

“They really are, you know,” Martin whispers with a grin, and Jon shakes his head—before his shoulders follow, and Martin can feel the tears dampening his shirt beneath him.

“Oh, darling.” Martin sighs, heart breaking at the little gasps coming from beneath the mess of hair.  “Shh, hush now, I’m right here.”

They spend a few moments like this before Martin continues, rocking him back and forth and praying to whatever gods there are that his voice will hold out for just a bit longer.

And you can tell everybody this is your song

It may be quite simple but now that it's done

I hope you don't mind

I hope you don't mind

That I put down in words

How wonderful life is while you're in the world

At last, at long last, Jon picks up his head from Martin’s shoulder—just barely long enough to peck him on the cheek—before he flops back down again.  The joy and relief that washes over Martin now is like nothing he’s ever felt—just grateful that maybe, for now, the worst has passed, and maybe Jon will be able to get some proper rest.

“Here, love—why don’t you lie down, okay?  Just lie down on my lap here, you’ll be alright,” he encourages, gently guiding Jon to do just that.  

For a moment, they remain silent—Martin stroking a hand through Jon’s fever-soaked curls, before he opens his eyes at last. Though green and glowing and so very strange now—they’re still endlessly deep, and so searching, and so very, very Jon.

God, I love you.

Even as he thinks this, Jon grabs his hand, bring it down to rest against his chest without looking away.

“One more time,” he says, voice whittled away into nothing.  “Need you to see.”

“See…?”

“Please.”

And Martin cannot help but comply, as Jon’s eyes fall closed once more.

And you can tell everybody this is your song

All at once, he’s caught up in a vision—and he knows for certain Jon is feeding it to him, letting him in for just a moment—all for the purpose of showing him memories.  Memories of them together.  

Jon’s arm looped through his as they walk through a blustering Scottish afternoon—

It may be quite simple but now that it's done

Endless cups of tea set on Jon’s desk, before they melt into shared cups, shared tea, Jon making it in their kitchen, Martin teasing him about it not being right—

I hope you don't mind

Lying in bed together—

I hope you don't mind

Their lips joined together in an affront to the dark—

That I put down in words

The vision fades, and Martin is left with what’s in front of him—his love, his love, and nothing else.

I love you I love you I love you

Leaning over him with a blushing grin, Martin sings the last words, certain that he’s never sung them with such force of meaning as in this moment.

How wonderful life is while you're in the world

Jon opens his eyes again at last, and—though ill and drained and exhausted beyond all measure—allows his face to melt into a smile, which Martin finds it impossible not to kiss.

“I love you too,” he whispers, before pressing another into his hair.  “Now go to sleep.”

At once, Jon does his best to comply, and Martin is soon to follow—a moment of peace in the growing dark.

[waitimcomingtoo]

I’m a huge fan of your writing!!! You’re so talented 💖✨ Can I please request a protective tom/peter story? Thanks love!!

Wheezy

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Synopsis: Peter is the only one who can tease you about your asthma

Masterlist

Requests are CLOSED

You were in second grade when you found out you had asthma.

Unfortunately, the rest of the second grade class found out too. Your asthma wasn't too serious, mainly triggered by nerves, but every so often you’d have to take a hit off your inhaler to calm yourself down. That didn’t hinder the merciless teasing from your classmates for not knowing how to breath. There was one thing that hindered the teasing though…

“Why are you in time out?” You asked the curly haired boy with red sneakers sitting next to you. The teacher shot you a look when she heard talking, but looked away when you gave her a bright smile. The boy rubbed his thumb over his knuckles and shrugged.

“I hit Flash.” He said solemnly.

“You hit Flash? Like in the face?” You almost jumped out of your seat in excitement. The boy perked you upon hearing your interest in his actions.

“In the nose.” He said with a toothless grin.

“Hey, I don’t have my two from teeth either.” You opened your mouth to show the boy and stuck your tongue through the gap. “My mommy said it makes me special. But if you’re also missing your teeth, does that mean I’m not special? Or are we both special? I have to call my mommy and ask but I only know the number for 911. It’s 911.” You sighed in defeat before an idea popped into your head. “Do you know your mommy’s number? Can we ask her?”

The boy blinked and looked at the floor before telling you, “I don’t have a mommy.”

“Everyone has a mommy.” You insisted.

“My mommy flew up to heaven with daddy.” The boy told you with a glum face. He never spoke about their death, but he felt safe opening up to you.

“Oh.” You said and looked down. You noticed the boy getting upset and reached over to tap his shoulder. “Do you want to come over after school today and meet my mommy? She’s really nice. Except, sometimes she makes me clean my room.” You remembered. “But I don’t think she’ll make you do that.”

“Okay.” The boy smiled happily at you. “I’m Peter.”

“I’m Y/n.” You told him.

“I know your name.” Peter said. “Your cubby is near mine.”

“I like you Peter. Since we’re best friends now, I’m going to tell you a secret.” You scooted your chair closer to his and lowered your voice.”

“Okay.” Peter smiled in excitement.

“I told a lie to the teacher.” You confessed before clamping your hands over your mouth and giggling as Peters eyes widened.

“What did you say?” He gasped. Lies were a top offense in second grade.

“Michelle drew on the bathroom wall in sharpie and I told the teacher I did it. That’s why I’m in time out.” You admitted to Peter. He furrowed his little eyebrows together.

“Why would you lie about that?” He asked.

“Because if Michelle gets in trouble again, she had to talk to the president.” You told Peter, who’s eyes widened again. “Or the principle. I forget which one.”

“You’re a good friend.” Peter complimented.

“Now I’m your good friend.” You smiled brightly at him. “So why did you hit Flash?”

“I don’t want to tell you.” Peter shook his head and looked away.

“But I told you a secret!” You said a little too loudly, making the teacher look your way again.

“I can’t say.” Peter whispered.

“Then we cant be friends.” You pouted and folded your arms.

“Wait! I’ll tell you.” Peter spoke up.

“Okay.” You leaned closer to him, your pout completely gone.

“I hit Flash because he was making fun of your asthma.” Peter confessed.

“You hit him for me?” You asked. “But you didn’t know me then.”

“I don’t like Flash. I wanted to protect you from him.” Peter told you. Something about Peters words made your second grade heart burst.

“Everyone makes fun of my asthma.” You said sadly. Peter looked angry, because he knew it was true.

“I don’t.” He promised. You looked up at him and pulled him into a hug.

“Okay Peter. We can be friends again.” You said.

But that was elementary school. By high school, things were different.

Since you wore a different purse everyday to match your outfit, you often forgot to put your inhaler in your new bag. Luckily, you usually never found yourself in a situation where you needed your inhaler but didn't have it.

That was true until tenth grade. You had to do an oral report on The Scarlet Letter for your English class. It went fine at first as you stood before the class reading from index cards. Halfway through the presentation, Peter noticed your breathing was getting labored. Your hands were shaking and you looked up from your index cards in fear at the rest of the class. Peter quickly realized an asthma attack was coming on and grabbed your backpack. He started rummaging through it, but found it wasn't your usual purple bag. You were wearing a green dress today, so you opted for a light pink backpack. Only problem, you forgot to stick your inhaler in it. You made eye contact with Peter, who was even more terrified than you were. Peter ran out of the classroom to get the nurse.

"What were you thinking?" Peter yelled, making you jump. You were sitting on the bench outside the nurses office, taking deep breaths with your inhaler. Peter was busy thanking the Lord that it’s required to give the school an inhaler if you have asthma. He was glad he remembered this and got the nurse in time.

"I just forgot. I've never used it at school before. People would think I'm a geek." You said, still a little out of breath. You felt guilty for making him so upset but in your defense, you’ve never needed it before.

"Y/n, you could have died." Peter said angrily.

"Oh, you're just being dramatic." You dismissed.

"Dramatic? 250,000 people die from asthma a year, Y/n." Peter stated, leaving you to wonder how he knew that. He saw you look down at your hands in shame and his eyes softened. He crouched down and took your still shaking hands in his.

"I need you to understand how important it is for you to carry around your inhaler at all times. You can't keep forgetting it. This could've been serious." Peter said gently. You slowly looked up at him.

"I'll remember. I promise." You said. Peter nodded and pulled you into a hug. He frowned deeply once your face was buried in his neck. He didn't like seeing his best friend upset. His frown faded when he heard your giggle.

"What are you laughing at?" He asked.

"I just think it's funny how I said reading The Scarlet Letter was gonna make me die of boredom, and then I almost died while giving a report on it. That would've been quite a death." You laughed. Peter stifled his laughter, not wanting to let you off the hook just yet.

"That's not funny." He smiled.

"At least I would've gone out with a bang." You shrugged.

"Stop." He warned.

"It would’ve been a run and hit, instead of a hit and run. Get it? Because I had to run to take a hit of my inhaler?” You continued to tease him.

"Stop." He said again.

"Alright alright." You rolled your eyes and dropped the subject.

After the incident, your asthma became the butt of all your jokes. The endless "breathless" jokes followed you all the way to college. Whenever you got a chance, an asthma joke would be made.

"Wanna hear a joke?" You asked as you spun around in Peters swivel chair.

"Not at all." Peter replied without looking up from his textbook.

“I watched a documentary on Asthma and what causes it last night.” You informed him. He looked up from his text book, excited that you were taking the initiative to learn more about your condition.

“Oh really?” Peter asked proudly.

“Yeah. It had some really breathtaking stuff.” You nodded before a grin broke out on your face. Peter groaned loudly and covered his face with his hands.

“I hate you.” He said behind his hands.

“Aw, but I love you.” You jumped on top of him and pinned him to his bed. You sat on his chest and held him down by his wrists. Peter looked up and you shyly and prayed his roommate wouldn’t walk it. “You’re my best friend in the whole world. Even if you don’t appreciate my asthma puns.”

"Alright, get off.” Peter said, annoyed you’d reminded him that you were only best friends. “I can’t breath.”

You got off his chest and sat next to him on his bed in silence for a moment before a devious smile crossed your face.

"Neither can I." You grinned, making Peter fully shove you off the bed.

You somehow managed to work it into every conversation.

"Here." You said, sticking a sticker onto Peters arm.

"You're giving me a sticker?" He asked in confusion as he pulled on his shirt to get a better look at it.

"Not just any sticker. It says “you’re a cute-cumber” over a picture of a cucumber.” You explained.

“What would I do without it?” Peter asked sarcastically and he watched the childlike joy on your face.

"It's a scratch and sniff too. I didn't smell it yet, though.” You kept up your innocent act. “I don't know if you know this about me, but I have this thing called asthma. You may have heard about it."

"Mmm, no I don't believe I have. I had no idea you had asthma. You're an inspiration to us all." Peter replied sarcastically. You laughed and rested your head on his arm. “I am a grown man, Y/n. I can’t be seen walking around with this on my arm.”

“You don’t want it?” You asked a little sadly as you went to peel it off of him. Peter brushed your hand away and looked offended.

“I didn’t say I didn’t want it.” Peter defended. “How else are the people gonna know I’m a cute-cumber? What if they think I’m just berry cute?”

You smiled widely at your best friend and smoothed the sticker back onto his arm.

You and Peter could joke about it, but God forbid anyone else tried too.

“If I got a tattoo, I’d get a big dollar sign on my bicep.” A senior, Harry Osborn stated. “To remind me to always secure the bag.”

“How lovely.” You said sarcastically and gave Peter a look.

“What about you, Y/n? What would you get?” Peter asked.

“I don’t know.” You answered.

“You could get an inhaler that says “it’s not easy being wheezy” under it. My friend got that one night when he was drunk. Funny as hell.” Harry commented. Peter felt his fist clench.

“Why would I get that?” You asked Harry.

“Because of your asthma.” Harry shrugged.

“Do you think having asthma is funny, Harry?” Peter leaned towards on his hands and you immediately gripped his arm.

“Peter, he’s only kidding. It’s okay.” You tried to calm him down.

“Do I find it funny your girlfriend is brilliant but doesn’t know how to breath? Yeah, a little.” Harry retorted.

“It’s not her fault.” Peter snapped, not bothering to tell Harry you weren’t his girlfriend.

“I’m not saying it is. I’m just saying, you gotta be pretty dumb to not know how to breath. And if it weren’t for that pretty face, she might not have gotten into this college. Something to think about. Food for thought, if you will.” Harry smiled.

“I won’t.” Peter lunged at Harry but you held him back. You pulled him out of the room by his hand and didn’t stop until you found an empty hallway.

“What was that?” You asked Peter sternly.

“He has the audacity to say you don’t belong here? His dad paid his way in. He asked me how to spell “biology” the other day. He’s a biology major!” Peter exclaimed.

“What he is is an idiot and you don’t have to sink to his level.” You rubbed Peters arms today calm him down. The flush is his face began to fade.

“He had no right to make fun of your asthma.” Peter said softly, making you heart melt.

“I know. Thanks for protecting me.” You said as you wrapped your arms around Peters torso. He rested his chin on your head and a sighed.

“Always.”

Even in the more serious moments, there was always room for a joke.

You and Peter went up to the roof to look at the sky during a particularly loud party. No one was up there but you two, giving you plenty of privacy. You walked to the railing side by side and looked up.

“Look, Peter, the sky.” You blurted. Peter looked and you and let out a groan.

“Really? You’re quoting Anne Frank? Now?” Peter asked you.

“I was quoting Anne Frank’s play, to be fair.” You held up your hands in defense.

“Moving on from that, I’m glad we can see the stars from here. I always wanted to stargaze with you but you could never see the stars from my building.” Peter said.

“I didn’t know you always wanted to do that.” You said with a fond smile. You looked at Peter, who had his head tilted towards the sky, and felt your face flush. You were seeing him in a different light for the first time, moonlight. And he was mesmerizing.

“It is beautiful, isn’t it?” You asked as you looked at Peter and not at the sky.

“Yeah. It takes my breath away.” Peter sighed in content before looking at you to see if you were enjoying it too. To his surprise, you had been staring at him the whole time.

"You know what takes my breath away?" You looked right in his eyes. Peter looked at you expectantly and smiled.

"What?" He asked, desperate to know. You smiled back at him.

"My asthma." You replied. Peters heart sank and he stared at you for a moment. An amused smile still sat on your face as you turned your attention back to the stars.

"I love you." Peter blurted out. “I’m in love with you.”

You snapped your eyes back to Peter, expecting a goofy grin on his face, but instead saw his dead serious expression. He was being sincere.

"You..." Your eyes widened and you were suddenly gasping for air. You clutched your throat and slid onto the ground. You looked around for your purse, only to remember you left it at the party. You closed your eyes and tried to slow your breathing. You suddenly felt your inhaler between your lips and a hit of air rushed in. You opened your eyes and saw Peter holding an inhaler to your lips with panic in his eyes. You took it from his hands and used it until you could breath again, never breaking eye contact with him. When you calmed down, you took the inhaler away from your mouth and took a deep breath.

"How did you-" you began.

"I started carrying one around after tenth grade." He cut in. "Just in case something like that ever happened again."

You nodded and gave him a soft, grateful smile.

"Wow Peter.” You said timidly. He looked up at you, again with expectation. “You really know how to take a girls breath away."

Peter groaned and scooted next to you.

"I had to. You know I had to." You defended yourself and Peter laughed.

"I should've just let you suffer." Peter teased, making you giggle as you helped him stand up.

"Well I'm glad you were here.” You touched a hand to his cheek and he leaned into it. “You’re always here. Always protecting me.”

“I’ll always protect you.” Peter said assertively.

“I know.” You smiled. “That’s why I love you too.”

Tag List 🏷

@maybemona @sunrise-shawn @meghan-8520xx @writing-for-hours-on-end @lavender-writer @captainmandeestudent17 @whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings @ultrunning @imyourliquor-youremypoison @theolwebshooter @autumnlyholland @andreasworlsboring101 @guksmyfav @waiting-to-be-myself @letsloveimagines

[warrentrash]

we'll meet again (bucky barnes x oc) part two

series summary: Eleanor, Steve and Bucky, the trio that relies on one another, face the horrors of war and the consequences of other people's actions, which ultimately puts their friendship to the test

chapter summary: Eleanor learns about Captain America and her other best friends disappearance whilst getting some heart-breaking news herself. 

warnings: mild violence, mentions of war and deployment, mentions of illness and sickness, talk of pow

a/n: thank you to all that are reading this !!

word count: 2.7k

previous part

~

MONDAY, JULY, 15

It’s been one month on the frontlines. It’s much worse than what I've ever faced at the hospital back home... But I’ve made some friends. Cassidy and Whinny, they’re both from Queens. My sisters were happy to see me, as I them. Only God knows how many more men have to become injured before this fighting stops, I feel so sorry for them but I try my best, sometimes I wonder if my best is enough.

+

TUESDAY, AUGUST, 21

Today was tough. Cassidy was injured by one of the soldiers. He panicked when we tried to stitch his shoulder. I guess he thought he was still on the battlefield.... It was horrible. Jasmin has been transferred even closer to the front-lines, I know she’ll make us all proud. I hear people saying that the 107th had been stationed with us a few days ago, but I've had little time to try and locate him, it is a big base after all... Unfortunately I wish it were bigger. I think it's been almost two months since they arrived. I’m beginning to fear the worst. 

+

FRIDAY, OCTOBER, 8

We received word that many of the 107th had been taken prisoner, along with a few others from other divisions. I’ve been so sick and worried about Bucky. Nothing has come back to us Nurses yet about anything. I hear people say there's not going to be an attempt to rescue them. It just causes me nausea. I’ll cross enemy lines myself if that’s what it takes to bring him back home safely.

~

Eleanor spun around in fright as someone shouted her last name. She located her Second Lieutenant Jones from across the room and nodded as the older woman frantically gestured for her to hurry with her task. She pulled the large stack of gauzes to her chest and raced across the dirty floor of the tent, dodging and weaving out of the way of the sick and injured men.

“Leave them and go,” Lieutenant Jones said to her without a sparing glance once the items were placed on the tray next to her. 

She nodded and quickly left the tent. Once she shut the curtains behind her, she looked upwards and inhaled deeply, her bloodshot eyes scanning the starry night sky. 

Just breathe, she reminded herself.

“Hey girl, you coming to the mess-tent for dinner?” Cassidy asked Eleanor, seemingly appearing out of nowhere. 

Eleanor gave her a small smile and nod, shaking the bloody images of what she had just seen free from her mind. 

“It's been a big day, Cass,” Eleanor sighed as she walked alongside the older woman through the makeshift street that was surrounded by raggy pin-up tents and scratched up vehicles. The mess tent wasn’t too far away; the sound of chatter from the entire camp could be heard, indicating that it was going to be busy inside. 

“I could tell. Oh, your sister, I don’t know which one they’re identical, I mean they’re twins of course they are, but she said to tell you she received a letter from your mother. Word is that she is doing swell, which is surprising because of how difficult these times have been for everyone. My parents are back in Queens trying to keep the bakery running the last I heard from them,” Cassidy chattered, barely taking a breath. She had an impulsive tendency to ramble, and the majority of the time her rambling wasn't even a consistent narrative, it just jumps from topic to topic. 

Eleanor awed quietly and said, “I hope it all works out for them.” 

Cassidy thanked her as they entered the tent and lined up in the short line of people waiting to receive their meal. The majority of people in the tent were the nurses who had just come off shift, Eleanor being one of them. 

They spoke quietly to one another about their home life when Cassidy brought up Bucky. Eleanor had a minor panic episode a few days ago during the middle of the night and because it disturbed everybody in the tent, she was forced to explain. The thought of Bucky being out there somewhere, hurt and alone, caused her to become physically ill. She spent the rest of the night praying that he was safe and would be found soon, along with the rest of the other soldiers. 

“So are you like dating or something?” Cassidy asked Eleanor as they both stepped up to grab a premade tray with a plate of food on it. 

“No, he’s one of my best friends.” They both sat down at a half-full table. 

Cassidy grinned and nodded her head. “Just friends huh? I’ve heard that line a million times, and let me tell you this darling, it is a big fat lie. I once knew this guy who dated this girl but the whole time she thought they were just friends-” She paused to take a sip of her drink before continuing, “he would take her out, buy her things, make sure her family was well provided. He was a real gentleman and always put her first. Now, she had no idea he was doing this to impress her, she just thought that’s how all men were seeing as she grew up living in the lavish side of town ya’ know? Then the day came that she met this snotty-nosed bachelor, a real piece of work, but he had the dough, and I mean the dough…”

Eleanor felt her eyes glaze over as she listened to Cassidy lose track of what they were talking about to begin with. When her gaze landed on the newspaper that belonged to the nurse in front of her, she felt her eyes widen in surprise.

“Can I borrow this?” Eleanor asked and grabbed the occupied nurse's hand. She nodded and pushed it forwards. 

Falling silent, Cassidy realised Eleanor wasn’t even listening to her talk about the various items the piece of work’s brother had bought simply because he glanced at them through a window. 

“Oh, my, Captain America,” Cassidy hummed as she looked over Eleanor’s shoulder to stare at the front page that displayed the patriotic symbol of hope. “That’s a man right there.”

Eleanor was baffled.

There was no way that could have possibly been Steve! It looked like him, a lot, other than how large he was, and, well, it did say Captain Rogers in small print under the big lettering of Captain America: Coming To a Town Near You. 

She had far too many questions. 

“That’s Steve,” Eleanor gasped out as she frantically flipped through the paper to try and find more pictures just so she truly could confirm whether or not that was her best friend. 

“You talk as if you know him.” Cassidy took another spoonful of potato and shovelled it into her mouth as she eyed Eleanor. 

“It’s because I do. I grew up with Steve, h-he’s my best friend.”

Cassidy rolled her eyes, “so who’s your best friend crazy woman, Captain America or the Barnes guy? You know you’re really making your way through them, and I gotta say, it is impressive.” 

“No, no… No, we all grew up together. It says here he’s supposed to be here in two days.” Eleanor looked to Cassidy on her right, who was beginning to worry about her friend's reaction to the news of Captain America. 

“Wow, everything's sunshine and lollipops for the one-o-eighth, huh? You get to see your life-long best friend and I get to see how that man's tooshie looks in that suit… What? No, don’t give me that look- Don’t roll your eyes! You know my mother used to always say, Cass if you keep rolling your eyes like that and the wind changes direction, you’ll be stuck like that forever, and I always took it as a word of warning, unlike my brother who was the biggest troublemaker on the block. Let me tell you about this one time he shoved my cat into the sewer…”

+

“How are you feeling, Harry?” Eleanor asked the young man as she gently wiped his brow with a cool wet cloth.

“Pretty fly, miss,” Harry stuttered out his reply with a shaky smile. 

Harry had been her patient for less than 20 hours. He was brought in with various broken bones, a large head gash and a high fever. He wasn’t supposed to have made it through the night, but he pulled through thankfully. He was still rather sick, including being underweight, but Eleanor couldn’t deny the fact that he still was very appealing.

“Well, I’m going to make sure you sweat this fever out and are up on your feet in no time… Well, foot,” she smiled and looked down at his right foot that had been wrapped in a cast. 

“No, no you’re going to heal me completely,” he awed and looked at the roof of the tent. 

“Remember my job is to just make sure you’re stable enough to be transported to the hospital. Now, hurry up and take these so I can go see the show,” Eleanor said in a joking manner, but she was very much serious. She was desperate to see Steve. 

“See the show? You’re just going to leave me here alone?” He asked, trying his best to hold himself up on his elbows. Eleanor rolled her eyes and gently pushed him back down. “Don’t leave me here Eleanor, please,” he begged as he took the pills from her open palm. 

Eleanor sighed but said nothing as she handed him a small canteen of water. She reached over to the other bed and pulled a small fold out chair towards Harry, where she opened it and sat down. 

He smiled at her and said, “thank you.”

Giving him a small smile, Eleanor attempted to strain her ears for the sound of the girls singing on stage less than one hundred meters away. 

“So where are you from?” Harry asked her, watching the way she hesitated to tear her gaze away from the outside. 

“Brooklyn. You?” 

“Ah, I’m from England. I gotta’ say, and I do hope I’m not crossing any boundaries here miss, but I don’t see a ring on your finger there.” 

Eleanor laughed and looked down at her bare finger as Harry smiled. 

“I’m not married- Nor do I have a boyfriend,” she added when he readied himself to ask another question. “Trust me, I know how strange it is, I heard it daily from my mother.”

“I wouldn’t say it’s strange,” Harry said and shrugged his shoulders the best he could lying down. “But it’s not common to be what, twenty-one?”

“Twenty four.”

“My apologies, twenty-four, and still single. Lord knows my mother had already popped out me and my brother by that age. You must have a lot of problems,” Harry said. He remained tense until she laughed at his attempt at humour. “What is it really? I mean, you’re real pretty, you’re smart enough to work here…”

Eleanor nodded her head in thought as her stare landed on the ground. 

“I’ve never really been interested enough in anybody. Nobody had really caught my eye yet.”

“That’s a lie if I’ve ever heard one.”

“You're calling me a liar?”

“No, I’m just saying that you told a lie whilst giving you a kind of formal/ informal title.” Harry shuffled onto his side to face her as she jumped to her feet, assisting him in rolling over. “You can tell me anything, we’re practically best friends.” 

Eleanor felt the laugh bubble in her chest but she tried her best from laughing, knowing that it would be giving him the satisfaction of knowing he had made her laugh numerous times in a short period of time.

“His name is James,” Eleanor admitted as she lowered herself back down into her seat. She kept her voice low as she continued on, “he’s been one of my best friends for over a decade. He’s just… He’s always been so sweet to me, and he’s always been supportive of all my choices. Not to mention he’s rather handsome.”

Harry smiled widely and awed. “Well, I think he’s a fool for not asking a pretty girl like you out on a date.” Eleanor looked at him with a small smile. “Which is why I’m taking the leap of faith here and asking you out on a date myself. This weekend at the pub in town.”

Eleanor hummed and crossed one leg over the other. “You’re not really my type,” she told him, fighting the smile on her face as he put his head back on the small pillow with a laugh. 

“C’mon, you don’t think I’m rather attractive? I think the headband makes my eyes stand out,” he said with a small hum afterwards. He gestured to the white bandage wrapped around his head that was holding the gauze on his gash. She hesitated in answering and he saw. “Just humour me here Eleanor,” he said quietly, a small, but charming, smile on his face. 

“Fine, but I’m not dancing with you if you’re wearing that ridiculous cast on your foot,” she said, rising to her feet.

Harry smiled and nodded his head as she picked up the washer that had fallen onto his cot. She dipped it into the cool water in the bowl next to her feet before wringing it out and placing it back on his heated forehead. 

"You're still burning-"

“Nurse Hope?” Eleanor looked to her left at the soldier before nodding to let him know that he had her attention. He stepped towards her and held out a note to her. She placed the wet cloth down and wiped her hands on her apron before taking the yellow note from him. He saluted her before leaving the tent. 

Harry looked away from Eleanor as she opened the paper, for he knew the contents. 

Eleanor subconsciously began to read the letter out loud, “The Secretary of War desires me to express his deep regrets that your sister Lieutenant Nurse Jasmin C. Hope-Lloyd was killed in action… on the first of November... in Austria…” She raised her eyebrows as her words faltered. 

“Excuse me,” Eleanor said to Harry and spun on her heel. 

Find Mary, Eleanor thought to herself repeatedly as she left the tent and began marching her way down the dirty and dusty street. Above her, the clouds rumbled and threatened to cry on her.

Find Mary. 

The noise from the men watching the show began to fade as she picked up her pace, her eyes frantically scanning the tents in hope of seeing her sister. 

A loud shriek caused her to stop and look to her left in between two soldiers tents. She saw the same soldier that delivered her the letter leaving one of the nurse’s tents. 

Eleanor ducked between the two tents and almost ran into a passing Corporal, but she was moving too fast for them to even stop her. She pushed the curtain of the tent aside and instantly spotted her sister standing next to a cot, one hand covering her mouth, the other hand shakily holding a familiar yellow letter. 

“Mary?” Eleanor asked, suddenly feeling much younger as her sister’s misty eyes looked up at her. Mary gave her a look as her hand left her mouth. It was the same look she had given her when they had found out their father had died all those years ago. Eleanor remembers it so clearly, so vividly. 

Mary rushed towards Eleanor and wrapped her arms around her tightly, her free hand cradling the back of her head. 

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Mary muttered as a shaky sobbed shuttered in her chest. “It’s going to be okay… Oh, God!” Mary cried out and looked up as Eleanor rested her head on her sister's shoulder, the numbness causing her to remain still.

~

[obsessive-ego]

Hot and sweaty

Anyone else hate hot weather and get super sweaty?

Musical beetlejuice x reader

Warning nsft

Voyeurism, masterbation

You come home sweaty and beej has a thing for that smell

You hated summer, you hated the heat, unfortunately your home town was known for its gross summers, it was hot, heavy, and muggy. Running errands openly sucked on days like this, you didnt drive, and the grocery store was only 2km from your home, which was fine during any other time.

The Deetz have asked you to "babysit" beetlejuice while they were on a vacation, the maitlands also pleaded this so they could have some alone time, you didnt mind, you enjoyed the demon's presence, and he yours, ever since you sucker punched him after a jump scare gone wrong, he became very clingy to you.

You were walking back home after retrieving misc groceries and snacks for movie night with Beej, unfortunately today was one of those hot and muggy days, you could feel the sweat rolling down your back, you felt so gross, hopefully you can steal some time to yourself and shower when you got home. Beetlejuice was already there, you summoned him this morning, but realized shortly after you still had adult things to do, he pouted about it, like usual, but shit needs to get done, that's how it is for the living.

Heading up to your apartment you felt sorta relieved, you felt so slimy and gross form the heat, but you were home.

Unlocking the door and heading inside to you small apartment, before you could even take your shoes off the bags you were carrying were gone, and you were pulled into the tight, cold embrace, of your undead friend.

The sudden temperature drop made you sigh in contentment, you weren't exactly the touchy feely type, but this was nice.

"Happy to see me doll? You missed me that much in the hour you were gone? Glad to see we're on the same page sugar" he laughs

You pull away, obviously embarrassed

"Where did you put my bags?" You sigh, finally removing your sneakers

"Away, dont worry about it" the ghoul pauses before leaning in close and taking a deep breath through his nose. "You smell different, stronger"

Your deodorant must have crapped out on you, you sigh, you probably smelled really bad, you could feel your shirt clinging to you back with how sweaty you were.

"Sorry, it's just really hot out and-" your babbling was interrupted with Beej leaning in closer, mouth practically against your ear.

"You smell really good sweet heart" he purrs, you flinch and move away out of panic.

For once his flirting and your reaction wasnt followed by his awful cackle, looking back he had that awful smug smirk he always wore when he got a rise out of you, but also the electric pink hue mixed in with the green mess of his hair, was he actually serious?!

Regaining yourself, you take a deep breath "I'm gonna shower okay? Please-"

You were interrupted by the snap of him fingers "Please Mr Beetlejuice, would you like to join me and scrub my back~?" You cover your mouth at that.

Beetlejuice laughs "I would love to doll, but I ain't a fan of water, I wouldn't mind watching though" he hollers after you as you had to the washroom.

He was messing with you and he was disgusting, so he probably did like the way your sweaty body smelled, you huff through your nose, you wish he was a tad easier to read, the hair helped, but it only went so far, the man never took anything seriously so he could be almost impossible to read, all you knew was that he liked to mess with you, and despite how awful and gross he could be, you honestly really enjoyed him being around, slipping out of your clothes, you couldnt help but smell you shirt, yup, it was as bad as expected, not to mention a little damp, gross, at least a shower will make you feel better.

Alone in the living room, the ghoul sighs, shame you decided to shower, he thought you were fine the way you were, smelled real good too, he knew how sweaty you got and how good it smelled from digging in your dirty laundry basket, you were the type to work out, so it was no surprise, he just never got to smell it straight from the source, would have LOVED to get to lick your neck and get a good taste though.

Lost in his own thoughts he is brought back with the sound of running water, you were gonna take a shower, you NEVER did that when he was around, and here he was not taking the opportunity.

With a snap of his fingers he was invisible, as much as he hated being invisible, this was an exception. Walking into the bathroom, he sits himself on the sink, your shower didnt have a window door like the Deetz, I was a a normal curtain, but transparent enough where he could see your silhouette. he sighs, content in the little show you're providing, he catches something out of his peripheral vision, your clothes you were wearing when you came in, they were thrown in a little pile on the floor, on top of the pile laided a bright red pair of panties, freshly worn, this was perfect, but the real question was 'would you notice?'. There was a real good chance you wouldn't, there was no way youd put back on your dirty sweet smelling clothes after a shower right? Right, youd probably just toss them in the laundry, it felt like an eternity debating on if he could get away with adding this crown jewel to his collection of cum rags he stole from you, he bit the bullet and took them, praying on your oblivious nature to not notice.

Once the lacy fabric was in his hand he was gone, leaving you to enjoy his new treasure. With a small apartment there really wasnt much places he could hide when you were around so he could tend to his urges, the bathtub was the go to, but that wasnt an option right now. Instead he took the hall closet, the only things it held were a vaccum, a few coats, and a pair of rain boots.

The running water stopped, beetlejuice carefully listened for you, hearing you move from the bathroom to your bedroom to get dressed, at frist he debated should he watch you dress or enjoy his new treasure asap, he chose the panties, the ghoul could watch you dress anytime, but these, fresh off your sweaty body panties, were rare and the opportunity probably wont come again.

With that thought he was set, bringing the crotch of the garment to his nose and inhaling deeply, he let's out a low quiet groan. These were so much stronger then the others, he fumbles with the fly on his pants, eager to free his ever hardening cock. Curious he licks the crotch, pleasantly surprised by the lingering taste of you, he let's out a soft whine, god slash satan he wanted to taste you from the source, but damn this was pretty close. The demon began lazily stroking his cock, your red panties pressed to his face, giving him the ability to both lick and smell them, bucking into his hand, the ghoul couldnt help but imagine you sitting on his face, fresh from a long workout or a walk in the heat, whatever would make you nice and sweaty for him, you would be shouting out how much you loved his tongue while you reached around and jerked him off.

Jerking himself a little faster he mumbles "you like that sugar? Yeah you do, you smell just as good as you taste sweetness, no wonder I call ya sugar~".

The closest was completely illuminated but BJ electric pink hair, he was completely lost in his own pleasure, his heart, if it was still beating, would have stopped completely when he herd you call his name, he completely forgot you were in the other room.

The ghoul had to think fast, get you off his trail until he finished, yes he liked you in a romantic way, soft kisses, dumb jokes, and pound you into the mattress kinda way, and yes he knew you liked him, but he was still unsure of how much, so finding him in his current situation could really ruin what chance he had with you, youd probably be sick to your stomach and banish him for good.

With that in mind he had the perfect little distraction.

You were finally dry and freshly clothed, feeling much more comfortable, wandering around your home looking for the demon who was so eager minutes ago when you walked in. This was odd, Beetlejuice would normally wait infront of the bathroom door or bedroom door when you were doing something private, normally chatting with you, but not this time, it was always worrying when beetlejuice was quiet.

Wandering around you start calling out his nicknames, you stop in your tracks as a little note appearing from no where flutters down in front of you, grabbing it, it was obviously written by Beej, the hand writing alone screamed it.

'Gone scaring, be back soon, love the ghost with the most' you sigh, he must if got bored waiting for you, you shurg it off heading to the living room to play some Nintendo while you wait for him to return.

Assuming that you bought his little note, he returns his attention to your panties, moving them from his face after one last long sniff, he stifles a moan, bringing the cloth to his throbbing cock, wrapping it with your panties. As much as the ghoul wanted to fuck you proper this was a close as he was gonna get for the time being, having his aching cock envelope by your heat would be a dream cum true, but having your fresh scent wrapped around his meat was a close second.

With the image of you moving your sex from him mouth to his cock for a ride, he began stroking himself once again, the image of you bouncing up and down on his cock, shouting out praises and your chest bounces. biting his knuckles while little moans and groans slip out, the demon couldnt help mumbling "you're so good for me Y/N, you like that? You love it dont you?". Bucking hard into his hand, his precum being soaked up by your undies, he knew he wasnt gonna last any longer, the thought of you begging him to finish inside of your pussy was more then enough to send him over the edge, soaking your little red panties with his cum, removing the garment, he cleans up the rest of his mess with the lacy cloth before pocketing it, he'll toss it in the wash later, as much as hed loved to slip it into your underwear drawer in Hope's youd wear them, you weren't that oblivious.

He finishes adjusting himself, straightening out his jacket and sliding his now soft cock back into his pants, the ghoul hums to himself completely content in himself.

Chilling on the couch playing animal crossing you are interrupted but a loud gravely voice "HONEY I'M HOME" glancing up in the direction of his voice the ghoul was next to you in a flash, you flinched at the sudden movement, beetlejuice drapes an arm over you shoulder and pulls you close

"Ya miss me babes? You smell real nice, but I'd rather you be hot a sweaty for me again, I got a few ideas in mind to get ya-" you shove him off

"Haha very funny, keep it up and no home delivery pizza tonight" you tease

Bj frowns for a second before pulling you back into him arms "babes you live for what I do too much to deny yourself the pleasure of my performance" he cackles

As much as you hate to give him the satisfaction, you admit your defeat and agree.

This was gonna be a great week together

[wickxdangels]

Sihtric Kjartansson Imagine; A Savior.

Hey lovelies! Today is the day for a Sihtric Imagine! I’ve got to say Sihtric is one of my favorites in TLK and Arnas is definitely my biggest celeb crush right now! Hahaha, anyways, this imagine was inspired by Brida being a slave for the Welsh.. but more like an au, soo.. hope you like it! 

Pairing: Sihtric Kjartansson x Reader

Warning: A little angst. mentions of killing, slavery, scars. 

Request: Someone requested for a Sihtric imagine with any prompt, so this one is for you.

“Hurry up, slave!” the angry voice of a welsh soldier spoke, lifting up his cup as he stared at the woman with an annoyed look in his face. “I said hurry up!” he drunkly yelled once again.

She was tired, her back felt if a dozen of bricks had fallen on top of it. Her feet ached as she walked towards the man, the weight of the iron clasp around one of her ankles was enough to bruise it as she stopped in front of him, and with a roll of her eyes she poured the ale on his cup. “I’m still wondering why we haven’t kill you already, you’re getting slower by the day.” He huffed out, spitting on the floor close to her but she could only roll her eyes, she knew if she were to reply back back to him she would get whipped, the scars on her back were proof of it.

‘I’m asking myself the same thing.’ She thought while she filled his cup and then she left, grabbing the ale pitcher tightly on her hands as she sighed, making sure every other cup had plenty of ale so she wouldn’t have to keep standing up each time.

There was still a faint pain on her ribs from the beatings she had in the past, but she slowly inhaled in, knowing it’d go away.

She’s been a slave for the Welsh for some time now, she didn’t keep track of it so it may have been months or even a year. She had run into some of their soldiers unknowingly as she tried to scape from some Danes who had invaded and burnt down her village. The Welsh outnumbered the Danes so they were able to kill them, she thought they would let her go but she was so wrong. Instead, they took her with them and had her chained to a wall, as if she were some kind of wild animal.

The first few weeks were rough, she of course tried to put up a fight to them as they forced her around, which ended up with her back being whipped, her face slapped or her ribs beaten. She learned the hard way to keep her thoughts to herself and comply or there would be consequences. At this point, she thought she should’ve stayed and died with her family.

She felt her chain being pulled, looking up she found one of the soldiers playing around with it to bring her closer, she was dragged towards him as he made her sit down on his lap making her feel disgusted, she hated feeling like a rag doll, dragged to their disposition without her being able to complain or say anything against it.

“Now, come on and provide some entertainment..” He nastily said while smirking, his hands running up and down her sides as she felt repulsed and it was quite noticeable on her face, she felt his hands now trying to go under her clothes as she quickly stood up, pushing herself away from the man as he grabbed down harshly on her arm. “Don’t be a little bitch!” He growled as he tried to grab her once again, she kept pushing him and trying to fight his hands off her body.

“Forgive me..” she spat to him “But I would rather die than to entertain you.” she finished, looking at him with hatred in her eyes.

“Oh, I bet you’d like that, won’t you?” he smirked, standing up as he grabbed her by the hair, pulling from it rather harshly. “Too bad that won’t be coming true any time soon so you better obey, you little Saxon bitch.” he exclaimed as he opened the lid of what looked like a sewer and tossed her down, she fell with a groan as pain invaded her back and entire body once again. “Now that’s were you belong, like the filth you are!” with a laugh he closed the lid, it had holes on it so she could still see him as he did so. Then with another sick laugh he started to piss down into it, with disgust she quickly crawled away, pushing herself against the dirty walls of the sewer, angry tears pooling in her eyes before they ran down her cheeks; she wished for things to go back like they used to be, but she knew that this would be her raw reality from now on. Slavery.

Furiously, she grabbed the cross necklace that hung around her neck and threw it away, she no longer believed there was a God.. maybe the pagans were right, maybe she’s been praying to the wrong deity this whole time cause he sure as hell wasn’t listening to her repeated prayers and he sure did not help her parents or the people of her village when they most needed him.

She then just closed her eyes, looking up as she prayed like she did many times, to whomever would hear. She prayed for a way out of here, for a second chance in life, for something to put an end to her suffering. She squeezed her closed eyes, the words coming out her lips in a mutter as she prayed and prayed until she felt her body giving up and suddenly she passed out.  

Moments later she opened her eyes, the first thing she could hear were the screams coming from way up, she looked up too see what is was happening through the holes of the lid but they were covered by something, she tried to break free from the chain but she couldn’t, she was too weak.

She kept hearing more screams and the clash of metal, probably from the swords as she realized someone had invaded the Welsh territories, she didn’t know if they were Danes or the Saxons but she knew that she had to get away.

“Help! Is anyone there? Help please!” she cried out, banging on the walls hoping someone would be able to hear her. “I’m down here, please!”

The groans and thuds kept on going for a moment before she could no longer hear them, that’s when she started to yell more.

“Please, anyone! Get me out of here, I beg of you!” she yelled, tears falling down her eyes once again as she fell down to her knees feeling defeated when she heard some shuffling around, she looked up through her tears as she saw someone pulling away a body that was covering the lid of the sewer, she only hoped the Welsh were all dead.

Her heart started to beat faster as she stared at the person who was starting to lift up the cover, she then shielded her eyes from the hard sunlight coming from it before her eyes stared at a man. “Give me your hand, I need to pull you up.” his voice said as he saw him laying down on his stomach, holding his hand out for her as she took it without a doubt, he then proceeded to pull her up, groans coming out of her lips as she felt her body hurting once again but she made sure to keep them low.

Once she was already out of the sewer, she carefully stared at her savior. The first thing she noticed was his eyes, each eye had a different color, one was brown and the other had a green and grey color to it, she sucked in a breath as she then noticed they were probably Danes due to their clothing, but she could see some Saxons amongst them too.

“What’s your name?” the man in front of her asked, grabbing her attention once again. “We are not going to hurt you, I promise.” his voice was soft, his face looking at her with a kind stare, something she had not seen in a long time.

“My name is Y/n..” she slowly muttered as she felt a coat being placed around her arms making her jump a bit at the surprise. He looked back at a blonde haired boy who, with a gently smile, secured the piece of cloth around her. “T-thank you..” she looked down at her clothes, they were dirty and looked like old rags but it was something.

“We need to leave, we don’t know if we may run into more Welsh today and we need to catch up, we are bit far from Mercia so we will have to ride faster.” A man said, probably the leader of the group as the rest nodded in agreement and grabbed some of the swords on the floor and some food to go. “And you..” he said looking at her. “You are free to go, you’re not a slave anymore.” he gave her a kind smile as he then nodded and left with the rest of his men who walked outside of the gates.

Those were the words she was so dying to hear, that she was free. That meant no more serving ale to drunken and abusive men, no more groping, no more punishments. Yet, she didn’t feel quite safe yet.

“You guys are headed to Mercia, right?” she asked the man who had found her before as he tried to unclasp the metal piece around her ankle, he looked up and nodded to her before taking off the piece and throwing it to a side, her ankle badly bruised but it was expected.

“Yeah, we are.. You can come along if you wish, you seem far away from home..” he stood up as he placed his sword on the sheath attached to his hip, she felt nervous under his gaze as he gave her another of his kind smiles.

“I’d really love that.. and yes, I am far from home.” she replied softly, remembering there was no home for her anymore, she was on her own now. “thank you for saving me, I truly appreciate it.” she told him, he simply nodded at her before the two of them walked outside. He told his leader, who she found out was named ‘Uhtred’, that she would be coming with them. He then helped her get on his horse as they rode far away from Wales.

                                                  _______________

It must’ve been some hours since they left Wales, the only thing they’ve come across were trees and more trees and she made sure to take in her surroundings, she hasn’t admired nature in a long time and just the sight of the sun going down was enough to made her happy. Then suddenly, Uhtred’s voice was loud, bringing her back to reality as he spoke to the rest of the men; telling them how they were going to camp here until morning when they could ride once again.

“I realized I never told you my name.” the man who helped her said, she gave out a small smile as he got off the horse and then helped her to get off of it as well. “I’m Sihtric, and as you may already know that’s Uhtred.” he said signaling the man she already knew the name of before pointing at another man close to him. “That’s Finan and the blonde one is Osferth.” he told her as she followed him while they walked towards the centre of the woods, where one of the men was quick to make a fire as the rest tied their horses to the trees nearby.

“I thought Danes and Saxons hated each other..” she told him sheepishly as she sat down, the warmth of the fire making her sigh in joy.

“Some do, some others.. like us see more than just the place where we were born.” he shrugged as one of the men passed down some kind of soup, she gladly took it in her hands as she ate, she hasn’t had warm food in a long while. “All of the men you see here are good men, I can assure you that.”

She gave him a small nod as they ate slowly around the fire, the rest of the men sitting around as well as they ate. Her eyes looked round, staring at each of them, they did looked like good men.. nothing like the Welsh.

“How long have you been a..” Sihtric asked, trying to find a better word as she interrupted him.

“A slave, you mean?” she said and he simply nodded, he didn’t want to say those words out loud. “I don’t know really, it’s been too long.” She replied, wrapping the coat around her tighter as she felt the night’s breeze hitting her. “I was trying to run away from some Danes that had invaded my village and I ran into the Welsh soldiers on my way, they captured me and well, you can figure out the rest..”

His eyes gave away the pity and sadness that he felt towards her, no one should’ve to go through what she had lived. He the remembered how his mother was kept as a slave once as well. “I’m sorry about that..”

She gave him a small smile and shrugged. “It’s alright, I guess.. there were times were I got used to it and other were I would try my best to escape but failed.”

They didn’t talk anymore after that, they simply stared at the fire in front of them as some of the men talked among themselves. Few moments later, they all laid down on the ground, ready to sleep for the night while she could only stare at the night sky, the stars lighting it up as she inhaled deeply, closing her eyes and trying to catch some sleep.

She woke up just when the sun was starting to peek in the horizon, she then decided to stand up and walked around the men, all of them soundly asleep as she then wandered through the woods, finding a small body of water. She took no time in taking off her clothes, and walking inside of it, sighing as she had forgotten the sensation of the water against her skin, she went under it for a moment as she thought about everything that has happened lately, how suddenly her life changed for the better.

Back in the camp, Sihtric awoke from his slumber. He rubbed his eyes as he watched the sun coming up, his eyes darted off to were Y/n was supposed to be sleeping, but instead he just found an empty spot. He quickly sat down on his spot, looking around as he saw everyone else was still pretty much asleep, he then stood up and tried to look around.

The thoughts of her possible running away were clouding his mind until he heard some splashes coming from not too far were he stood. He made his way towards the it, looking around as his eyes fell on a body emerging from the water, it was her. 

He quietly hid behind a tree, squinting his eyes as he watched the woman clean herself in the river.. and when she placed her hair to a side he could see some scars on her skin, some looked bit more recent as other looked faint. He felt his hands clenching, anger overtaking his body as he wasn’t able to digest how someone could treat her like that. How people could take in slaves and forget they’re as much human beings as them.

His mind running over the time he killed those Welsh soldiers, hoping that one of the men that had died on his hands was the responsible for her scars, cause he enjoyed killing them. His mind wandered off once again as he didn’t notice the fact that his foot stepped down on a branch, making a loud noise that made her turn around, staring at the trees.

“Who’s there?” she asked, her eyes looking around as she couldn’t see anyone in sight. “I know someone’s there!” she wasn’t actually sure about that part but she said it anyways. She then saw a figure stepping out from behind a tree, she took her hands up to her chest to cover her naked figure as the water covered the rest.

Sihtric walked out, an embarrassed look on his face as she caught him in the act. “It’s me.. I’m sorry I just.. woke up and did not see you there and came looking for you.” he spoke, his eyes adverting from her as he didn’t want her to feel any more uncomfortable that she must’ve already been feeling. “I just wanted to make sure you were alright.”

When he found her yesterday, he felt surge need to look after her. It was something weird, something he has never felt before and could not put in words. When she looked at him, he felt a warm sensation in his chest and just being around her made him feel different. And he craved that feeling.

“It’s okay.. I’m alright. I just woke up and decided to walk around for a bit until I found this.” she explained with a small smile towards him as she then slid down to her knees so the water would cover her torso. “Y-you should get in.. the water is nice..” she softly said to him, a red color tinting her cheeks as she looked down at the water.

“I don’t want to intrude, really.” he replied with a gentle voice as he scratched the back of his neck, looking at her for a moment.

“You are not!” she quickly interrupted before chuckling slightly to herself. “I mean.. you’re not interrupting at all.. some company would be nice.” she shrugged with a playful smile on her lips as she played around with the water.

He smiled and shook his head, thinking he may regret this but for the time being he should enjoy it.. after all, he didn’t know if he would ever see her again once they arrived to Mercia and a little dip in the river wouldn’t hurt anyone.

“Okay.. you convinced me.” he said smiling as he then started to undo his vest, taking it off along with his shirt, he unbuckled the belt against his waist as he dropped it with his sword; soon followed his pants and then his shoes. Y/n on the other hand, stared at him a bit as he was untying his shirt and then she turned around.. she didn’t want to be caught staring all creepily.

Her stomach felt uneasy, probably of embarrassment as she then felt the water rippling behind her , she turned around and found him coming closer to her. The water covering him from waist down as he slowly made his way towards her.

“You were right, it is really nice.” he commented with a smile as he went further in, he took no time and dipped down, coming out seconds after with a deep breath and an even bigger smile on his lips. “I haven’t had a proper dip in quite a while.”

“Yeah, me neither..” she said as she then got closer to him, catching his breath as her hands slid down the right side of his chest. “Does it hurt?” she asked as her fingers softly grazed his wound, one of the Welsh soldiers had sliced him a bit with his sword before Sihtric killed him. “Not really, i’m used to getting wounds here and there.” he confessed as he ran his hand down her back softly, her breath caught in her throat. “Do these ones hurt?” he asked to her, his eyes staring at hers with a sad look as his fingers touched her scars.

“Not anymore..” she muttered as he felt his fingers leaving soft traces on her scars. “I used to think that if they killed me then it’ll all be better, you know? I have no one left alive and I just couldn’t handle living like I did day by day.”

“What made you change your mind?” he asked intrigued.

“That’s the thing..” she chuckled. “No one did.. They wouldn’t kill me because they knew killing me would be merciful.” she sighed, tucking a strand of her wet hair behind her ear as she looked up to him. “I would pray almost everyday for things to change and then one day... you showed up.” the ends of her lips curved up in a small smile as she felt his fingers coming up to her face, caressing her cheek softly as if she were fragile and could break. She closed her eyes enjoying the feeling.

“I wish we could have showed up earlier..” he whispered.

“What matters is that all of you showed up.” she replied swiftly. “And I can’t express how grateful i am for that.”

“That’s okay—” he started but was quickly interrupted by her.

“But I think I could show you..”

With one last look at his beautiful eyes, she slowly leaned her face closer to his, her hands moving up towards his jaw as she collided her lips with his. Loving the feeling of his lips against hers. 

It came as a shock to him, the kiss. He wouldn’t deny the fact that he imagined what it would feel like, and experiencing it in reality was much better than what he could’ve pictured. His hands snaked around her waist, pushing her closer to his body as they forgot about their nakedness, or better yet, they didn’t care anymore. The warmth of his body started embracing her as he moved his lips slowly, taking in the kiss and enjoying every second of it, he felt like her lips was the place he was meant to be.

In that moment, he knew that wherever she were to go, he would follow. No matter what.

And that no harm would ever fall on her ever again, he promised himself that.

He knew he would risk it all.. just for her.