#hey remember when those planes hit those two buildings

[adoredmarigold]

Is it true that the walking dead game starts in 2003?

That would mean all the characters (minus AJ of course) would have experienced and remembered 9/11

Damn that sucks, imagine experiencing 9/11 and two years later the worlds like “oh you thought that was bad, what till you get a load of this”

[wittyminds]

Show Me the Way Home

Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Anonymous:

Hey I’ve just seen you’re requests are open, could you write something angst and then fluff with Bradley, maybe they’ve both been snapping at each other and then they make up? Xx

CW: Angst, fluff, endangerment of life (idk)

A/N:

This is my first ever fic so please be nice :)

I've never written angst before so it was a gamble as to how this would go. So... enjoy?

*

It wasn't supposed to go like this.

Of course, everyone knew accidents could happen in the air but they're never expected. Especially this one.

But being surrounded by a dozen of very experienced pilots it was hard to remember about the dangers of flying and how one small mistake could take someone away from you.

Rooster had been watching your progress through the course with unwavering attention, staring in awe as you shot through the entire thing flawlessly. You were the best pilot here by far but even the strongest have to fall every now and then.

Literally.

He knew that placing Hangman with you had been a mistake as the two of you had been at each other's throats for years. A "friendly competition" back in their first ever course had led to a not so friendly rivalry that everyone knew about. Which made the situation even worse. When two competitive pilots are in the air it's all bound for disaster.

Maverick had set them all the task of shooting down two target planes, each earning them 'kill' points. Hangman had been determined to beat you but you were confident that both those points were yours. It was meant to be a team building task but the two of you were against even wishing the other good luck.

There had been one target left, leaving the two of you whizzing around, determined to leave the other in the dirt. You had taken the other one down moments before Hangman would have, resulting in a rather amusing string of expletives from him.

You had been chasing the final target, Hangman gaining speed on you when it happened.

*

"Hangman, Wraith, this is a team task! I don't want to remind you again!" Marverick's voice rang through the intercom but you didn't listen. You were so close, your target slowly circling the aircraft in front of you.

Rooster realised he had been holding his breath as you strained to close in on your target. The table groaned as he clenched his fist round the feeble wood, the surrounding pilots exchanging knowing glances.

"Just a little further." Your voice muttered through the intercom.

Hangman, who had been quiet for too long, suddenly sprung up in front of you, sending your concentration haywire. Was it too much to ask for a clean shot?

"What the hell, Hangman?" You gritted your teeth in frustration, slowing down so you didn't collide with his rear, "I nearly had him!"

Hangman only smirked, you could feel it through the intercom.

"And let you get all the kill points? I don't think so."

The target plane swerved to try take you off its tail but you both followed it, only slightly unnerved by the sudden change of direction. You could hear Hangman muttering as he tried to get a clean shot which seemed impossible at the new angle.

"This is bullshit." He muttered, suddenly pulling up to get a different angle.

His sudden manoeuvre had left you to fly straight through his jet wash with no warning.

Your plane broke into an uncontrollable spin, everything around you blurry and dizzying. A series of panicked yells escaped you as you spun and Rooster shot out of his seat, ice cold dread drenching his entire body. The room stilled to a deafening silence as you tried to eject from the aircraft.

"Wraith! Can you hear me? Wraith!" Maverick yelled but you were too panicked to answer, still trying to locate the ejection handle.

Rooster couldn't watch, your plane getting closer and closer to the ground with no sign of slowing. The thought of what would happen if it hit the rocks below with you inside-

His feet carried himself out before he could register it, the door swinging shut behind him as he marched out the building and to the safety of his truck.

There, everything would be fine.

*

You and Rooster had been catching feelings over the past months, each glance lasting longer, each graze of the hand full of electricity. There were moments when you would both lean in instinctively after quiet moments together only to realise how close you were before pulling away.

So, it stung when you stepped out of the emergency aircraft, dizzy and half conscious, to not find Rooster waiting. Your heart had dropped at the sight and you stumbled through the doors into the building with only the dream of his arms there to hold you.

After numerous questions and glasses of water, you were given a lift home from Phoenix. She had become the equivalent of your sister but even she didn't want to prod the wound of Rooster's disappearance with questions. You stepped out of her car with a tired farewell, to be greeted by the comforting sight of your home.

Inside there was ice cream, chocolate and far too many rom-coms to keep you distracted.

After a warm shower that would definitely raise her bill a ridiculous amount, you climbed down the stairs in your favourite sweater, a pair of slippers keeping your feet warm from the sudden change in temperature.

The weather had gone from clear to sour in a matter of hours, much like your mood.

How could he leave in a moment like that? When you weren't even sure if you would make it out?

Your thoughts were broken by a frantic knock at the door, the sound clashing with the thundering rain outside. You paused the film, halting Julia Roberts moments away from kissing Richard Gere.

You shrugged the blanket from your shoulders, shuffling the short distance to the door to notice a large shadow huddled under the small overhang above your door. You didn't need to guess who it was for a second as you swung it open to reveal a dripping wet Rooster, holding his jacket over his head.

A thousand thoughts erupted in your head and your nostrils flared.

"Oh, so you do remember me?"

An expression of pain flashed over his face but it was gone in a blurry second.

"Can I please come in?" His voice was pleading and you opened the door wider so he could shelter from the furious pelts of water.

As you shut the door again, he lowered his jacket from above his head to fold in his arms. He ran a hand through his soaking hair, the movement sending a slight jolt through you.

"I just want to say, I feel so shitty for leaving, Y/n. I really do." As he rambled on, you got a proper look at him, not listening as he continued to speak.

His eyes were wide, giving the impression of a puppy being told off for the first time and as you studied him, you noticed his knuckles were stained a slight red.

"What happened to your hand?" You interrupted him quietly and he froze.

You crossed your arms and frowned at him, waiting for a response.

His eyes fell from yours and he rocked back on his heels nervously.

"I punched...." His voice trailed off into a mumble and you strained to hear him.

"I swear to God, Rooster, tell me." Your voice rose and he sighed loudly through his nose.

"I punched Hangman!"

The words rang through the air and your arms fell from their knot. Anger flared in your chest and he rose his head to meet your eyes once more.

"You... what?" You spoke slowly and carefully, taking a step toward him.

"I punched him, alright? He was careless and could have killed you!" Rooster's voice rose and all signs of being nervous disappeared.

"No, not alright! It's not your duty to stand up for me! You clearly didn't feel the need to be there when I got back!" Tears stung your eyes at what he had done but you blinked them back.

"I had to leave! I couldn't stay in that room!"

Anger clouded all your judgement, all you wanted was for him to explain why not punch the guy who had accidentally sent your aircraft spinning. Why did everything have to be so difficult for the two of you? Why couldn't you just settle the stupid argument and get back to Julia Roberts?

You scoffed at him, "Right, because watching the plane go down was so much worse than being inside. What was so awful about the accident that you had to leave? Why cant you just let it go?"

"Because that's exactly how my dad died!"

Every retort building up in her faded with his words. He had never openly spoken about how his dad died except that he had been in a flying accident.

How could he not have told you this in your many deep conversations? Surely it should have come up at 3am with a bottle of vodka clouding your judgements. Maybe it was just one of those things that was meant to be forgotten in the soft, tender moments.

"How was I supposed to know that?" You finally uttered, too shocked to consider how he felt.

"You didn't, I know. But it scared me that you were up there in exactly the same position he was in before it happened." You could see his eyes swimming with tears, only he didn't blink them away.

"Then I don't understand how you're mad at me! It wasn't my fault!" Your voice suddenly went higher than normal and you fought to keep your emotions under control.

"I'm not mad at you!" His hands flew up to his hair and his jacket landed on the floor with a dull thud, "I was just terrified because the person I love most in this god damn world could have died and there was nothing I could do about it!"

You waited for his words to sink in and finally let tears roll down your cheeks.

"Y-you love me?" You whispered, all memories of anger flitting from your mind.

He closed his eyes for a moment, the heels of his palms digging into his eyes. You waited for a reply but he only muttered a series of incoherent words before picking up his jacket and shuffling past you to open the door.

Thunder rumbled angrily as he stepped back into the rain, drowning out any words said. You were too shocked to move or go after him. His words kept playing over and over in your hand, a broken record of what you had been hoping for for weeks. But all he said as he slammed the door behind him was a simple, "I'm sorry."

And then once again, he was gone.

As the door slammed, you flinched at the noise and watched his figure storm back to his truck. Rain battered her windows and you ran a hand through your hair in frustration.

You don't know what came over you, probably the countless romance films and books you had indulged in, but you found yourself wrenching the door open and running into the freezing cold rain. Your sweater was drenched in seconds and you squinted through blinding droplets as you sprinted towards Rooster.

He had just about made it to his car but you could catch him. Thunder drowned out your footsteps and when you tried to call his name, the wind howled over you.

Finally, you reached him and breathed out one last call of his name.

He turned round to see you, eyes sad and shoulders heavy.

"Y/n, I'm so sorr-"

But when you reached him you didn't even think before pulling the front of his shirt to lower his lips to yours. In one smooth movement you kissed him breathlessly, his hands flying to support your waist and hip. He didn't kiss back but just as you pulled away, his grip on you tightened, keeping you in place. Your heels lifted from the grass as he moved into him, bringing him closer.

This is what it should have always been. The two of you. Safe in each other's arms.

Just like the movies.

One of his hands moved up to your hair, cupping your head gently as his lips moved in an easy rhythm against yours. Rain ran down your faces, thunder sounding as you blocked out the rest of the world.

All that mattered was the two of you in this moment.

You both pulled back for air, resting your foreheads against the other's as you panted. A relieved laugh escaped you and you pressed another quick kiss against his lips. Your arms had snaked round his neck and you stood staring at the man before you, still processing what you had done.

"Rooster?"

You were too breathless to speak properly and he hummed quietly, nudging your nose with his.

"Take me to bed now, or lose me forever."

Your smiled as he kissed you deeply again, suddenly lifting you up to wrap your legs round his waist. Another laugh escaped you at his goofy grin but he cut you off with a kiss.

"Show me the way home, Y/n."

[starlight-vixen-emiko]

A Day at the Beach

ao3 ff.net

Pairings: Miles "Tails" Prower x Cream the Rabbit and Sonic the Hedgehog x Blaze the Cat

Hello everyone! I remember someone on fanfiction.net asked me to write another Sonaze fanfic and I am here to deliver.

...Well actually Sonic and Blaze are the secondary ship in this fanfic and this fanfic is primarily a Tails and Cream romance...

But this fanfic is important to me because it's a Taiream and Sonaze double date beach day from when I was in high school. I finally brought this fanfic to life!

I hope it's not too cliche but this fanfic is important to me so I hope you enjoy it. Thanks for reading!

~~~~~

It was a beautiful, bright summer day. And all Miles "Tails" Prower wanted to do was be hard at work with the new airplane he was building.

Sure, he was sweating a lot, but the young fox was so inspired that he couldn't stop himself from making a new airplane. Besides, after all the hard work, drinking some sweet lemonade and eating ice-cold ice cream would hit the spot.

But there was a knock on his door, and Tails wondered who would need him now and that it better have been for something important. He wiped the sweat off his forehead and put down his rag before heading to the door.

"I'm coming!" Tails whined.

When he opened the door, he saw Sonic standing before him, looking smug as he hummed to himself a jolly tune. Tails was wondering what seemed to be on Sonic's mind, but he had to admit he would always be happy when his older brother visited.

"Hi Sonic!"

Sonic flashed a grin. "Hey Tails! I wanted to ask if you were available for something."

Tails thought about his mental blueprint of the plane he was working on. Still, simultaneously, he honestly wondered what Sonic was up to.

"What is it?" Tails said.

"Well, Blaze mentioned how nice it would be to go to the beach, and Cream seemed excited over the idea…"

Tails' eyes widened as Sonic revealed a purple flower he was holding.

"Cream wanted to know if you would like to go to the beach with us as well, Tails."

Suddenly, cogs started to move in Tails' head, and a soft blush formed on his face. Cream? Sweet, adorable, kind-hearted Cream wanted to spend time on the beach with a second-rate hero like him. This almost seemed too good to be true.

"Really?" Tails uttered.

Sonic speeded right next to Tails and gave him a sly grin. "Of course, little bro! Cream really likes you after all!" Sonic winked.

Well, Sonic didn't need to tell him that twice. Cream was always sweet to him, and they were good friends, but did Cream feel the same rush of embarrassing romantic feelings that he felt for her?

"And while we're at the beach, I can hear more of Blaze's deepest secrets!" Sonic exclaimed smugly.

Or, this could be another scheme by Sonic so he could finally hear Blaze confess. Sure, Tails was always supportive of Sonic and Blaze. He felt if there was anyone who could understand Sonic on a fundamental level, someone who fit Sonic perfectly, it was the fiery cat princess. The young fox waited patiently, wondering when those two would finally become official. But the days waiting were becoming long and vigorous.

And at this point, Tails didn't want this to be the Sonic the Hedgehog and Blaze the Cat show!

Tails wasn't going to play hard to get with Cream!

Maybe today, he would finally find the guts to tell Cream he liked her.

…Even if Cream didn't like him back and she only saw him as a friend.

But Tails would play it cool either way. He confidently marched on the beach, wearing his sunglasses on top of his head and carrying a practical floatation tube. The waves would be no match for him. Nothing would be a match for him! Because he was becoming a strong hero like his older brother Sonic every day! He was almost on the same level as him!

But at a distance, two girls stood under two umbrellas. And both of them took notice of him and Sonic. A girl with bunny ears walked into the sunlight with the brightest smile, and the sunshine illuminated the young girl.

"Hi Tails!"

Tails lost his cool as he gasped, and he felt his heart beating out of his chest. He nearly fell over! Tails almost lost his breath, but Sonic kept him steady as he helped the young boy walk over to where the two girls placed their beach towels and umbrellas and towels. Sonic raised his hand. "Hi Blaze! Hi Cream!"

Cream smiled again. "Hi, Mr. Sonic!"

When Sonic finally got Tails to their destination, he gave his younger brother a shake. Tails was able to compose himself as he sheepishly grinned and waved his hand to the young rabbit girl. "Hi Cream!"

Cream giggled as she moved closer to Tails, and Tails' face again turned bright pink. Oh god! He hoped he wouldn't faint.

"I'm so glad you two decided to come!" Cream said.

Meanwhile, Sonic turned to Blaze, and her amber eye gleamed as she flashed Sonic a quick smile before turning to the ocean. Sonic would always get used to that beautiful glint in her eye and how her smile was so warm, even if it was sly.

"Yes, I am so grateful you boys decided to join us," Blaze said.

Sonic chuckled under his breath. "It's great to see you too Blaze!"

Sonic gazed at the cascade blue sea sparkling like diamonds, and the waves were gentle.

"The entire beach is our oyster today!" Sonic exclaimed.

Cream grabbed her inner tube, ready to swim. "And the ocean looks so beautiful!" The young rabbit girl wasted no time running to the shore and jumping into the cool water. Tails felt so nervous as he watched her go and gently reached his hand out to her; Sonic and Blaze were watching his desperation quietly.

Cream looked so happy swimming, but when she turned back, she waved to her friends to call them over.

Tails knew he couldn't just stand around and wait. He questioned how something so simple and amazing could be so difficult for a genius kid like him. But when the little fox breathed and thought about him and Cream swimming and having a good time, he knew he needed to take action.

He took his inner tube and ran across the beach as if racing for the last train at Station Square. When Cream called his name, Tails placed the inner tube around him, but he tripped and fell face-first into the water. Cream cried out for him again and quickly dove in to help him surface.

Tails gasped for air, but then he was stunned to see Cream before him, holding his hands and smiling at him.

"That's a relief! I was so scared you hurt yourself!"

Tails blushed hard. "I'm fine Cream!" He looked away. "Thanks for saving me though…"

At a distance, Sonic was holding an umbrella over Blaze as the two of them walked for the shore. They watched Cream and Tails' interaction intently, right down to every look they gave each other and how gentle they were toward each other.

Blaze slyly ran from the umbrella so she could soak her feet on the shifting waves. Sonic smiled and set the umbrella aside so he could run after her. Sonic enjoyed stepping in shallow water and watching Blaze enjoy herself on the shore and in the bright sunlight. It felt great for the two of them to be in their element but also try to reach out of their comfort zone, and Tails and Cream witnessed the teenager's relationship in awe.

"They're doing it again," Tails mumbled to himself.

Cream moved closer and whispered into Tails' ear. "Looking at each other a lot and knowing?"

"Yeah, exactly," Tails said as Sonic kicked some water in Blaze's direction, and Blaze coyly dodged.

But the two of them eventually noticed Tails and Cream watching them, and Tails and Cream gasped. Sonic and Blaze replied with knowing smirks, and Tails and Cream quickly dived underwater to hide. And when Tails opened his eyes, he saw Cream smiling at him. She swam closer to take his hands, and Tails gasped and caused himself to lose his air. Cream nearly did the same laughing, but she pulled both of them up.

Tails was stunned as Cream continued to hold his hands, and he realized this wasn't a dream. They were swimming together, and Cream was smiling brightly at him.

"Are you ok Tails?" Cream asked him.

Tails paused for a moment, blushing hard, but then he blinked his eyes and smiled back.

"Yeah, I am!"

Cream caught Tails off guard as she led him into the water.

"Then let's keep swimming!" Cream cried.

Just then, Tails felt like the luckiest boy alive.

The fox boy and the rabbit girl felt so energized swimming in the ocean together. Sonic and Blaze didn't know what they were missing as they only soaked their feet and indirectly flirted with each other. Tails couldn't help but laugh along with the adorable rabbit girl, and they were having so much fun with each other that they didn't realize they were drifting in the water. But Tails couldn't feel more alive! It made him wish he found the courage to spend time with Cream earlier. But neither child was aware of the waves getting higher. Sonic and Blaze watched the two younger kids in awe, but their delight turned into horror when they saw rough waves about to splash on Tails and Cream.

"Tails! Cream! Look out!" Sonic cried.

Tails' heart leaped as a big wave towered over Cream. He held her hands tightly as Cream yelped, but it was too late, and the wave overcame her and pulled her under.

"Cream!!!!"

Cream flailed underwater, and Tails dived in for her without hesitation. Cream tried to hold on, but she felt herself slipping as she reached out to Tails, and she fell unconscious. The ocean depth was strong for the young fox boy, but using his two tails, he pushed through and held Cream safe in his arms as he pulled her up.

Tails was relieved breathing in air again and relieved that Cream coughed up water as soon as she surfaced. Tails got a glimpse of Sonic and Blaze swimming to deeper water to save them, but Tails didn't say anything as he used his twin tails to turbo him and Cream back to shore. Cream was still unconscious as he laid her gently on her back.

"Cream!" Tails' voice was shaky as he cupped her face.

"Please be ok!" He cried hoarsely.

Then, the safety protocol he learned echoed in his head, as if fate hammered the answer in his head right on time. His heart thudded as he thought about what he was going to do. It was crazy, but he didn't have time to be embarrassed right now.

Tails lifted Cream's head gently as she stirred slightly. Gently, he placed his lips over hers as he breathed oxygen into her. He did it ever so gently, and it felt as if time stopped for a moment, but Cream still wouldn't open her eyes.

Tails kept filling her with gentle breaths, pleading and saying her name multiple times until Cream gasped. Tails lifted himself to give her some air and allow her to cough multiple times.

"Cream!"

The little rabbit girl needed a moment for her vision to come back into focus. But eventually, she saw Tails looking scared to death over her, and her brown eyes sparkled as if she saw the sun for the first time.

Her heart thudded fast when she realized that Tails saved her from drowning, and she found the strength to pick herself up, but Tails became even more frantic.

"Take it easy Cream!" Tails cried as he placed his hands on her shoulders, making Cream blush even more.

Cream froze briefly before blinking, and then she finally moved her lips.

"But Tails…"

Sonic and Blaze quickly ran for Tails and Cream as they called out for them, but they were taken aback by seeing Cream wrap her arms around Tails and hugging him tightly.

"You saved me!" Cream cried.

Tails felt so much shock as Cream hugged him so tenderly, but this time, he found the strength to hug her back as if to protect her, and the two children forgot about everything else at that moment.

Blaze smiled warmly, and Sonic shrugged.

"Well, there you have it!" Sonic said.

The rest of the day was quiet. Tails and Cream stuck together as if they were inseparable, and to be fair, Tails nearly had a heart attack after that close call. Cream was also a bit shaken up, but she could still smile with Tails by her side. The sunset on the beach drew near, and both children found the courage to move closer and watch the orange sun on the horizon.

But then Tails thought about how Cream nearly drowned, and he sighed, which caused Cream to perk her ears up and quickly try to comfort him.

"I wish the ocean wasn't so scary at times. Our beach day nearly got ruined," Tails said.

Cream shook her head as she took Tails' hand.

"Today was the best day ever!" She said.

Tails was so confused as Cream smiled at him with determination. The sunset helped the adorable rabbit glow and Tails' heartbeat a bit faster as he felt relief inside him.

Tails took her hand in his and smiled back at her.

"I'm just happy you're ok Cream."

The two children walked hand in hand as they met up with Sonic and Blaze again, just about ready to leave the beach for the day.

Tails and Cream walked ahead of them on the empty road as the sun set. Sonic and Blaze were still a distance apart, even if they enjoyed walking side by side. But Blaze still teased him with beautiful glances from her amber eyes.

Tails and Cream were growing up, and it made Sonic internally groan because he felt Tails and Cream were closer than Blaze and him were. And even though Blaze didn't wear such emotions on her sleeve, she admitted it was fascinating that Tails and Cream were progressing. Still, she had difficulty conveying her complicated emotions for Sonic the Hedgehog. And that the great blue blur couldn't say anything bold to her, and they would always run around in circles together.

But Sonic knew he would tell Blaze how he felt one day, or maybe she would just admit that she thought he was amazing and the guy she was crazy for.

But for now, he would try to reach out his hand for her, and her hand would brush it. And then both of them would play around again until one day, the sacred flame and the sonic wind would ignite this slow burn into something incredible.

But they had to be pleased with the two kids that were practically younger siblings to them. They were adorable together, and they would always support them.

So, after a moment of bitterness, they had to silently congratulate Tails and Cream for coming so far on this ordinary beach day they planned.

[lilacmoon83]

Lightning in a Bottle

Also on Fanfiction.net and A03

Chapter 82: Deadhead, Pt 2

Emma and Ruby sped down the highway, as Killian directed them on the information he had received.

"We got a hit on the RV plates. They were spotted southbound on the highway…" Killian said.

"I love it when things line up like that. We are going northbound," Emma said.

"Thanks, Killian," she said.

"Actually, that's Lieutenant Killian," he joked.

"Yes, sir. Over and out," Emma said, as Ruby gave her a look and she shook her head.

"No. Uh-uh. Do not look at me like that," she said.

"I'm just enjoying things being back to normal. I didn't say anything. I was just appreciating some casual banter between two people who used to be engaged to be married," Ruby teased. Emma rolled her eyes and spotted an RV about to pass them.

"There. That might be them," Emma said, as she saw Jace in the window.

"Gotcha!" she said, as she had to swerve when the RV tried to shove them off the road. The brakes screeched, as she managed to turn them around.

"Look out!" Ruby called, as she swerved to avoid more oncoming traffic.

"You okay?" Emma asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Are you?" Ruby asked. She nodded.

~*~

"Come on, Jace. This is insane," Kory reasoned.

"Yeah. Yeah, it is insane. We fell through the ice and made it out alive. It was winter when we went in the lake and spring when we came out. We should be dead now. I think we were dead. And we came back to life or something," Jace said.

"Like that plane," Pete replied.

"Like that damn cop and the kid," Jace said.

"Look, why don't we just stop running?" Pete suggested.

"And give up? What happened to you?" Jace snapped.

"The same thing that happened to you. I mean, this is a miracle and you know it. And I don't think that we should be beating people up and firebombing the cops," Pete said.

"I don't give a rat's ass about any of those people," Jace growled.

"You used to be the guy that took care of everyone. You remember when you spent all the money from your after-school job to pay for the high-tops for me and Kory? We had

the best kicks on the block," Pete recalled. Jace smirked.

"I hadn't thought about that job in years," he mentioned.

"Hey, maybe that's why we came back. To do things differently," Pete said.

"Maybe you're right," Jace said.

"Hey, Kory, pull over, man. I'm gonna drive," he said, with an evil glint in his eyes.

~*~

David approached Vance's partner at the Travel Agency front and he looked surprised to see him.

"What the hell? We're supposed to have no contact for three weeks," the man said.

"Yeah, well, and Vance was supposed to come home with us," David said.

"Now, look, I've put together everything I can remember. If we fly back into here, I think…" David continued, but the other man cut him off.

"Cuba? You're not serious," he said.

"About saving Vance's life? Dead serious," David replied.

"Nolan…you're a math professor. I spent my life in military intelligence, and I can assure you, we ain't getting him out on our own no matter how many maps you draw," he said sternly.

"Well, I'm not gonna just give up on him," David argued.

"Yeah, you are. 'Cause we don't have the resources, and Vance doesn't want to involve the government. It's a direct order," he said.

"Yeah, they're already sniffing around. I had a house call this morning. And, no, of course I didn't say anything. There's got to be another way," David replied.

"If there is, he'll figure it out. You need to stand down," he said.

"So, how does this work? How do I take this ring to Vance's wife and tell her that he's not coming home and that I'm standing down?" David asked.

"I don't know. I'm just glad he asked you to do it, not me," he replied.

~*~

Olive parked at the school and they began to trek onto the campus. Angelina felt the memories

"There. That's it. Those wings...those are peacock feathers," Angelina said, as she pointed at the stained glass window on the building.

"We're definitely supposed to be here," Olive agreed.

"This is...what's been following me. Last time, it was holding up its hand, the one that's holding the scales," Angelina said.

"Do scales mean anything to you?" Olive asked. But she shook her head.

"Not really. I mean, Archangel Michael uses them to weigh your soul on Judgment Day to see if you're worthy," Angelina mentioned.

"Okay, so the figure in your calling, right, it doesn't have a face?" Olive questioned.

"Neither does the archangel," she mentioned, as she motioned to the faceless angel, which was actually due to a broken piece in the window itself.

"I was here when that happened. My class made time capsules, and when we were choosing where we each wanted to bury them, some kids were messing around and a rock

sailed right into the window," she added.

"You buried a time capsule right around here?" Olive asked. She nodded.

"I know exactly where mine would be, but there's not much in that box," Angelina replied.

"Okay, the callings, they led us here, right? And the figure was faceless. So it means they wanted you to remember that day. I think the calling is leading us to the box," Olive

said. Angelina walked a few paces ahead and then pointed to the ground.

"Right here," she said.

~*~

When Leopold answered the door to his new home, the last person he expected to see was his daughter and two of his grandchildren.

"Margaret…you're here…" he uttered.

"David and the girls will be following…it's a long story, but I can explain everything. We just need a place to lay low for a while. Henry could be in danger," she said. He

nodded.

"Of course…does this have anything to do with the plane?" Leopold asked.

"In a way…but it's more than that and everything I'm about to tell you is going to make you question my sanity," Margaret replied.

"No…the whole world saw that plane come back. I believe we are beyond any of that now," Leopold said, as she sat down with the baby and started to explain everything.

~*~

"That held up pretty well, considering. Let's see what's inside, though," Olive said, as Angelina opened her box once they had dug it up. She held a keychain and smiled.

"This is from our first trip to Costa Rica," she recalled.

"Oh, my God," she exclaimed, as she picked up a photo.

"King Kone. They used to take me there on special occasions," she said, referring to the ice cream shop in the background.

"Your parents?" Olive asked. She nodded.

"They were almost normal then. I had no idea what they'd do to me one day. How they'd…" she said, as she trailed off. Olive put a hand on her shoulder and gave her a

sympathetic gaze.

"You know, I keep trying to find the right thing to say...to tell you how sorry I am for...all that you've been through. But the only thing I can think of is, "That sucks." Olive

said. Angelina smiled and laughed a little.

"It does. It does suck. It's hard to believe I was ever happy, but this picture is proof. I was," she replied. Olive smiled.

"Maybe the calling wanted you to have that photo...to remind you what it was like to be happy," Olive suggested.

"It's going to take more than a picture of a slushie," Angelina said.

"What about tasting one?" Olive suggested. She smiled.

"I just want to get rid of these visions. If a slushie will help, I'll have 12 of them," Angelina joked, as they headed for Olive's car.

~*~

David had arrived at Vance's house and received a welcome from his wife, Estelle and they proceeded to talk.

"Do the boys know that he's been in hiding this whole time?" David asked, referring to Vance's sons.

"Yeah. Only thing that's kept me sane is knowing that one day I'll be able to tell them that he's finally coming home. I suspect that day is not today," Estelle replied.

"Estelle, we were ambushed by the Cuban military. He's not coming home any time soon. I am so sorry," David said.

"No. No, he told me that, after this, he'd be done," she replied, with a sharp tone.

"Estelle, I hate that you and your family are going through this, especially since I was the one that dragged him to Cuba," David apologized.

"You're the one who dragged him into all of this. It's your fault that the world has to think that he's dead. And, yes, this is your fault. So if you're looking for absolution... get

him back. Do you hear me? Fix this. I don't care what it takes!" she said angrily.

"Uh, he... asked me to give you this," David said, as he gave her the ring.

"I swore that I'd never marry a man whose life was shrouded in secrets. Look what he put inside," she said, as David read the inscription.

"You shall know the truth," she said.

"And the truth shall set you free," David finished, realizing that he had heard it somewhere else.

"The truth shall set you free. Would...anyone else know that he used that quote?" he asked.

"Only the people who loved him enough to visit his grave. It's right on his tombstone," she answered.

~*~

"You really think the calling wanted us to get slushies?" Angelina asked, as she sipped at hers.

"Mmm. I have no idea, but, uh, I'm so glad that we did," Olive replied, as she enjoyed hers.

"You know, this might be the most fun I've ever had following a calling. So, thank you," Olive added.

"No, thank you. I needed this," Angelina said.

"Oh, and here comes a brain freeze," Olive replied, as they giggled and continued to enjoy their treat.

~*~

"What are we doing here?" Pete asked, as they arrived at the King Kone ice cream shop.

"You jogged my memory earlier when you mentioned how I used to be, back when I worked here. I'll bet Ron and Julie never bothered to change the combo to the safe in the back," Jace said.

"Hey, Jace. Let's just go, all right? Wouldn't it be better if everyone thought that we were still at the bottom of that lake?" Kory reasoned.

"You saw the looks on those cops' faces. They know we're back," Jace argued.

"Well, then, let's just disappear. I don't know. Go to Canada or whatever," Kory argued back.

"For sure, but first, we got scores to settle. Now, let's go," he ordered.

"We're gonna do a smash-and-grab and peel out in an RV?" Pete asked.

"We might have to improvise," Jace said, as he got out of the RV.

~*~

Emma pressed the call button on the steering wheel, as they raced down the highway.

"State troopers got a tip about three guys getting out of an RV. One had a knife.

They're at a fast food joint called King Kone," Killian said.

"We're driving on a damaged radiator, but we're going as fast as we can" Ruby said, as Emma smashed her foot into the accelerator harder.

"Scratch that, now we're going as fast as we can, slightly faster than we can," Ruby corrected.

~*~

"Think I'm crazy yet?" Margaret asked, as she finished explaining everything. He smirked.

"I'll admit that it's a lot…but I know it's the truth. It's all been very strange since that plane came back," Leopold mentioned.

"It has…but it gave back everything I had lost. I'm sure this is the trade off for that," Margaret said.

"But if you're right about this Death date, these men will be gone again in a few months?" Leopold asked.

"Yes…we're still trying to figure out how the passengers can defeat their death date, but four months is still a long time when there are possible maniacs looking for your son," Margaret replied.

"Well…you are safe here. All of you. I only hope David and the girls will be along soon," he said.

"Me too…" she replied.

~*~

"Go to her. Go to her. Go to her," the voice said in their heads.

"What the hell was that?" Kory asked, as he stumbled a bit.

"You heard that, too?" Pete asked. Jace snarled.

"Go to her," it repeated.

"It's the damn kid that died in the lake," he growled.

"What the hell's "go to her" supposed to mean?" Kory asked.

"It's the cop. She's close," Jace replied.

"Go to her," it repeated.

"That kid's trying to mind control us to turn ourselves in," Jace growled.

"We got to go. Pete, Pete, we gotta go, man," Kory called, as Pete knelt down to pick something up off the ground. It was a photo.

"What are you doing? We gotta go! Get in the RV!" Jace screamed at him.

"This girl...I think I'm supposed to go to her," Pete said.

"What you talking about, man? We gotta go, the cops are coming! Come on, we gotta go!" Kory pleaded, as they heard the sirens closing in.

"The cops are coming!" Jace called, as he saw the car and then sped off, leaving Pete behind.

"Pete! Put your hands up!" Emma demanded, as she brandished her firearm and got out of the car.

"Put your hands up!" Emma said, as he obeyed.

"Hey! Hands on your back," she ordered, as he cooperated.

"Where are the others? Where are they?" Ruby demanded to know, but Pete was silent.

~*~

"The truth shall set you free." Arthur said, as David arrived at Vance's grave.

"About time you figured it out. Been following you all day," he said.

"Estelle said only people who love her husband would come here and remember his epitaph," David said.

"I'm here a lot. It was sorrow at first, losing my friend, my mentor. Then guilt that I wasn't

there to protect him. Then it became something else," Arthur said.

"What?" David asked.

"A nagging feeling that Robert Vance isn't buried in this grave," Arthur replied.

"You're right. He's alive," David revealed.

"Oh, my God. Tell him I want to talk…" Arthur said, but David cut him off.

"I can't. He's being held by the Cuban military," he said.

"What? How did he get himself…" Arthur started to say.

"I'm more concerned with how he's gonna get out. I've gone around and around, I can't figure it out. What if the government could do some kind of...I don't know. Some kind

of prisoner exchange," David said. Arthur raised an eyebrow.

"The prisoner in question faked his own death, operated off the grid for a year-and-a-half, apparently in an embargoed country. Our government will classify him as a spy.

They're not gonna be interested in a prisoner exchange," Arthur replied.

"What if you go back and tell your people that Vance isn't the biggest news in Cuba, that there's something bigger? Much bigger. About 828?" David questioned.

"It would take something like that for me to move the mountains I need to move," Arthur said.

"Okay. But I need you to keep it under wraps. Vance's life is in the balance...and, in a way, so is every passenger's," David said.

"I promise, I'll do everything in my power to keep it a secret. But everyone on the planet is fascinated with 828, so it may not be in my power," Arthur warned.

"So, what is it? A piece of intel?" he asked.

"A piece of 828," David replied.

~*~

"As I said, you have the right to remain silent, but do you want to tell us what you were doing here?" Emma asked.

"Yeah, or where your lunatic brother went?" Ruby asked, but he was silent.

"Nothing? All right, in you go," she said, as she started to put him in the car when the photo fell from his hand.

"Wait, that's my photo," Pete said.

"Actually, it's NYPD's," Ruby replied, as she put it in an evidence bag.

"I'm gonna leave my card with the owner and tell him we're taking off," Emma said.

"Okay," Ruby replied.

"Aunt Emma?" Olive asked and the blonde turned in surprise to see her niece and Angelina there.

"What are you guys doing here? Didn't your dad tell you they're back?" Emma asked in alarm.

"Yeah, but Angelina had a calling," Olive replied.

"What was it?" Emma asked.

"The Archangel Michael holding scales. We dug up this box that she buried, like, a really long time ago," Olive answered. Emma sighed.

"Okay, but what are you doing here?" she asked.

"Oh. We lost something from the box. We're just trying to retrace our steps," Angelina replied.

"What was it?" Emma asked, as Angelina saw the bag in Ruby's hand.

"This," she said.

"No, wait, wait, please. That photo belongs to me," Pete said.

"No, it's mine. I dropped it," Angelina argued.

"How could you have a picture of me?" Pete asked. But she looked confused.

"This is a picture of me. Right there. I was ten years old," Angelina replied.

"In the background. That's my brother Jace working the counter, and that boy staring at the girl with the slushie, staring at you...that's me," Pete said, surprising them all.

"So, this is weird. What's the move?" Ruby asked. Emma sighed. Graham was counting on her going by the book this time.

"We're gonna go by the book. Olive, you need to go home. There are still two of these guys at large. Okay?" she insisted.

"No, I'm sorry. Uh, you can't take that. This is all I have," Angelina insisted.

"I know, but it's evidence. I'm sorry," Ruby replied.

"Aunt Emma, this is a part of a calling. Okay? You just saw what happened. All right? We have to keep it. Dad is gonna wanna see this, and there might be more clues," Olive insisted.

"I can't. I'm sorry. It has to go in the report. I'm sorry. Get home safe," Emma replied.

~*~

Hours Later

"That was a very thorough report you submitted. Nice work, Emma," Graham said, once they arrived back at the station.

"Trying to do the right thing," Emma replied.

"Well, it paid off. Pete Baylor is back in custody, and I'm getting the help of every law enforcement agency in the country to hunt down the other two. In the meantime, you think you can get this back to its original owner? Forensics is done with it, andRuby mentioned it had sentimental value," he said, as he handed her the photo.

"Thank you, Captain," Emma replied.

"Anything else you want to share? I saw that video. Where do you think they were for three months? In that lake?" Graham asked curiously.

"The truth is, Captain, I...I don't know. I have my theories, but I know that you...prefer facts," Emma replied.

"Yeah…let's keep a lid on that video. Good work, Detective," he said.

~*~

"Yeah…we should be able to head up there soon. I think Agent King is going to get him out," David said, as he talked to his wife on the phone.

"That's wonderful…I'll feel better when we're all together again," Margaret said, as he saw breaking news on the television and the words 828. He unmuted the TV.

"David?" she asked.

"Turn on the news," he replied, as she did so and they listened to the report together, both stunned at this turn of events.

"Good evening, folks. Our top story to tell you about now, leaked photos from a driver who was working inside Guantanamo shows what appears to be airplane debris bearing the Montego Air logo. This could be the biggest bombshell yet in the Montego 828 investigation," the reporter on TV said.

"Ready?" Olive said, as she and Angelina were all packed.

"Shh," he chided, as they came to watch the TV with him.

"Discovery is leading to new speculation about the plane and passengers who landed in New York a year-and-a-half ago. If the plane is in pieces in the Caribbean, are there

two planes? And what does that mean about the people on the plane? Who, or some would say what, are the passengers who landed?" the reporter purported.

"The press has the story…" he said, as he heard brakes screeching and commotion outside.

"News vans…we can't go. They'll follow us all the way to your father's house," he said, into the phone.

"Then we'll come home," Margaret said.

"No…we can't risk it. Jace is still out there and I have a feeling he is going to know that Henry is alive," David replied. She knew he was right.

"You need to stay," he insisted.

"But what about you? He could come after you and Emma," she said.

"I know, my love…but I'll keep us safe until we can find a way to get up there without them following us," he said.

"I love you," she said, as he heard her sniff.

"I love you too…I'll call you later," he promised, as they heard someone shout to them through a bullhorn.

"David Nolan! Vicky Smith, local news. Two minutes of your time, please," she called, but he would refuse to answer her call and he hugged Olive gently. They were facing a

whole new slew of uncertainty and danger…

[chiwhorei]

𝐬𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐥𝐲 𝐯𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐮𝐞𝐬

paring: kenny ackerman x fem!reader

genre: apocalypse!au, smut, dark content, 18+ mdni [cross-posted to Ao3]

word count: 3k

overview: kenny *i-wouldn’t-fuck-you-if-it-was-the-end-of-the-world* ackerman; but it is and you do . . . and you’ll probably do it again. or, if you read beyond the cut and wind up in hell that is legally not my fault.

tags: dymph does sacrilege once again, post-apocalypse au, blood, violence, zombies (only mentions of gore nothing specific), somnophilia, noncon, dubcon, degradation, smoking, insertion, sloppy oral, big age gap aka kenny is a nasty old man and reader is a sweet little virgin.

a.notes: happy *fucking* easter. this is for the smut pile’s apocalypse collab so go give everyone’s pieces a read, everyone has worked so incredibly hard. this is dedicated to @pleasantanathema​, who was both my beta reader and emotional support while stringing this together. here’s to the old man fuckery, cheers.

hymn: the seven deadly virtues - camelot

But stay awake at all times, praying that you may have strength to escape all these things that are going to take place, and to stand before the Son of Man. -Luke 21:36

                                      * * *

Wet.

A sticky kind of wet. Clinging on like thick clay, splattered across your neck— gore and sinew wrapped in a noose. Shades of decaying reds and browns are all you see these days. 

The seeping, molding kind of wet.

The smell is suffocating, the toll of death deep in your bones. You keep moving, you have to. One foot in front of the other, fingers fretting with the cross hanging between your collarbones. Counting your Hail Mary’s distracts from the ache in your soles and the burning feeling that you’re rotting away.

It was slow at first. The end of the world, the crashing, clattering end felt like a slow decent to hell. Pieces of the modern world falling away, the promise of tomorrow, the assurance of a cure. You refused to believe the dead could walk the earth until they were stumbling straight towards you. 

All of us, you think, are rotting away.

“Pick up the pace, kid. Are you trying to end up like the rest of those fuckers?” His voice rings from a few feet in front of you. The brush under your feet is dry, leaves crunching loudly with every weary step forward. 

Kenny always likes to remind you of your naïveté, insults about your rose tinted glasses barked crudely from around a cigarette. Your youth, your optimism, your beliefs-- useless traits in his opinion. What good is God in a world like this.

“Friends. They were our friends.” Your words come out in a whimper, the tone further irritating the man ahead of you.

He stops, turning around to catch your eyes, gaze piercing through the night like a knife. All that’s left of your composure is used to keep from crashing right into his chest.

“Ain’t no more room for friends in this world, baby doll,” a long pointer finger lifts your chin, the slightest touch still bruising, “thinkin’ like that is what’s going to get ya killed.”

Rose tinted glasses, cracked and splattered with blood, fall off and are lost to a world that no longer exists. Kenny let’s up and turns, pulling you farther into the thick brush. You could swear you feel the lenses as they splinter under your shoe.

                                      * * *

Kenny is a vile man. He knows his name isn’t on a reservation list at the Pearly Gates, he’s aware that a sinner lives on borrowed time. 

Nowadays, everyone is living on borrowed time. Even you.

You, he thinks, looking back to where you stumble over a tree branch, far to good for a world like this.

He can’t help but laugh, the absolute absurdity of his current situation. Escaping death by the skin of his teeth, watching any familiar faces burning in the remnants of a camp he couldn’t really call home. People that fought to the bone, melting or devoured or both.

And then there was you, standing in front of the flames, tears falling down the apples of your cheeks, stiff in shock and horror. He remembers the way your lips moved, mumbling a quiet prayer instead of trying to run. Stupid little thing.

It’s not the earth the meek inherit; it’s the dirt.

Was it pity that made Kenny pull you away from an infernal gravesite all those months ago? He’s never the hero of any story. No, it must have been something else.

Maybe it was the way you looked up with teary eyes, silently begging for help. Unwittingly making a deal with the devil. His teeth grind at the memory, the vision of how beautiful you look so completely helpless. 

Kenny leads and you follow, he hunts and you flitch at the sound of an arrow piercing flesh. The small squeak and proceeding thumb of meat as it hits the ground never fails to make you sick. When he’s not hunting for food, he’s hunting something else.

The sounds of death are all the same.

Some days you’re lucky, coming across abandoned hideouts or deserted cars. Snagging whatever hasn’t already been picked over; some ammo, the occasional can of peaches or pack of cigarettes. Kenny laughs dryly everytime, chucking the carton into his bag. Always the cigarettes, never the lighter. Most days, not so much.

Every night, you fall asleep to the flicker of a campfire, lulled by the steady sound of Kenny’s knife as it scrapes against a piece of wood. He’s always the last asleep. The woods are a dangerous place, the possibility of monsters circle at every moment. Under the veil of night, anything could happen. And it does.

He wipes his mouth, settling back into the harsh ground below him with a pleased hum. Your whimpers have settled back into a light snore. 

Kenny is a vile man, and you’re too concerned with the lifeless villain in the shadows that you forget about the one sitting on the other side of the fire.

Three months of waking up to aching limbs and misplaced panties can’t be a coincidence, can it?

                                      * * *

“Well ain’t this something.” Kenny pulls on the door, swinging it open with a loud creek. Your neck strains to look up at dark wood and steepled roof, the tall building hidden by dense forest, you two must be the first people to step inside in months. 

“A church.” You’d find comfort within these walls if you weren’t so positive that God had abandoned this world.

Statues of the Virgin Mary and Saint Joseph are empty behind their stone eyes, shadowed with an unsettling shade of red from the stained-glass windows. The moment is a time capsule, a vision of the congregation of saints bathed in blood.

A chill runs down your back, counting every vertebrae.

You push down the unsettling foreboding, focusing back on the instincts to survive instead of lingering on a religion that you can no longer make sense of.

“Hey kid, over here.” You pick up the pace, quickening footsteps away from holy symbolism and towards Kenny’s voice. You walk into the closest room off a dark hallway and find him leaning against the doorframe. The rooms are getting darker with the vanishing sun, but you make out shelves of cans and boxes, food, blankets, clothes.

“I bet they used this as a food pantry,” Your comment was probably an obvious assumption, but Kenny just hums in response, “there’s enough here to last up months.” 

Good samaritans in the first life are a saving grace is this one. Your cynicism lifts from heavy shoulders for just a moment. The lines between luck and divine intervention are fuzzy at best.

“I saw a well right outside too. Water’s probably cold as ice but it’s better than anything we’ve come across yet.” Kenny’s voice is even, but you swear he cracks a smile.

He was right, the water is cold enough to shatter your bones like ice. You shiver and chatter, teeth threatening to crack, but the feeling of being clean has you dumping bucket after bucket over your head. The grime and grit of your reality running down to seep into the grass below.

There’s no home to run to after the world ends, but water and food is more than you could imagine in recent months. Shuffling through boxes of donated clothes, you find a shirt big enough to sleep in. The fabric smells like moth-balls and dust, but the feeling of clean cotton against your skin is heavenly. 

You find Kenny in the clerical office, rummaging through the priests desk. The sun is replaced with a flight of candles, for the first time in forever, you don’t feel like death is standing right behind you.

“Would you look at that,” Kenny pulls a cigar from the desk, bringing it up to his nose for inspection, “Looks like father had his own little habit.”

Despite yourself, you laugh at his comment, rounding towards the large leather chair he’s settled into.

“Smoking kills you know.” You lean against the desk next to him. Your bare legs brush against his knee, the heat from your skin makes his mouth water.

“I think there’s more pressing concerns than tobacco, kid.”

There’s something different about tonight, even more than just the four walls and roof around you. There’s something about Kenny and the way his stare has followed you all night. You can feel a cord pulling taught, fraying in the middle before it snaps.

“Asshole.”

The plush of Kenny’s bottom lip is close enough to your cunt to be disastrous.  Friendly banter becomes laughing and swatting at his chest like a teenager. Communion wine and tension pulling you into him. The loneliness of this life becomes more apparent the closer he is to touching your skin. When did the man in front of you make your heart race so fast? 

Maybe you’ve always felt this way.

You feel it, the ghosts of last night, the night before. The ghosts of weeks or maybe even months. The familiarity of a touch you weren’t quite awake for. 

Ass arching off from where it sticks to the cherry wood, you want to feel it again. The laving of tongue and mouth against you. The devouring of your most intimate planes of skin, places no one else has ever touched before, places you were saving for your future husband.

The kiss as hot as hell.

“Awe, c’mon now,” His nose nudges against your clit, the movement pulling another cry from your throat to bounce against the high ceiling, “that’s not my name.”

“I’ve been tracing it into this precious cunt of yours every night,” each word is more unhinged than the last, no longer worried about the doe in his sights running away, “Do I need to spell it out for you again?”

There’s nowhere to run, pressed in between his canines.

Dreams of calloused fingers and a wandering mouth are now cementing as memories. The feeling of rough facial hair. The sounds of desperate moans and how they shake against you. 

The way his tongue curls like a signature. 

His mouth is flush against you again, sucking at your aching clit for only a moment before moving his attention to long lashes against your clenching hole.

“You must remember. You were moaning it so sweetly,” he nips at your puffy lips before drawing back. His chin is sheened in your arousal, slick refracting off the dimly lit space between you, flickering candles outline his features with a dance of orange shadows. Kenny’s eyes hold you captive, giving you one more chance to answer.

“What’s my name, kid?”

His tongue breaches you, a set of large, familiar hands keep your legs spread wide atop the desk. 

You remember— of course you do. You remember everything. The name stuck in your head like a broken record. The name you call for in a sleepy haze as your body is dragged into orgasm.

The name that’s spelled against you like a promise.

“K-Kenny please.”

That’s all that he needs, the only thing, if he’s being honest, that he’s ever needed.

“There’s my sweet little girl. Finally using your manners.” Two fingers come up to swipe against your pussy, stopping right before your clit and collecting slick to bring up to your eye line for inspection. You jump when the warm digits drag against your bottom lip, a silent prompt for your mouth to fall open.

Kenny sticks his fingers in, the intent to make you gag is clear but you take it. You’ll take anything he gives you. Your tongue swirls around the intrusion, running against each joint and suckling loudly. The sound is wet and lewd, the spit collecting at the corners of your mouth makes his head spin.

Your destruction, he decides, will be beautiful. 

Kenny’s fingers release with a wet pop. He runs callouses down from your cheek, over the curve of your tits and down your abdomen. Two fingers stop at your pubic bone to trace lightly against the skin in random patterns. 

“Your body is just as agreeable when you’re awake.” His words drip in sin, reminding you exactly how familiar he is with you. All of you.

Both thumbs come down to spread your lips, Kenny can’t help but take a moment-- just a beat-- to stare at your swollen, glossy clit and the quiver of your little hole. Your skin is soft, completely untouched by anyone else. He laid claim to almost every inch before you begged him to.

He sinks from the leather chair, kneeling in front of you. You’re the body and blood as far as a sinner like Kenny is concerned.

There’s a plea stuck in your throat. You want to beg him to slow down, it’s too much all at once, but you know if you cried out-- all you would do is beg him for more.

His tongue is long and flat against you, every swipe is punctuated with a growl. The rumbling from his chest is thrown against your clit like a current through cold water. Sharp, shocking, terrifying.

“Kenny, I- I want,” He sucks your throbbing clit into his mouth, rubbing the tip of his tongue against the hood. There’s no words in any language that make sense to you. There’s nothing but his name. 

“Kenny ah, I need, I don’t know how t—”

Your dangling over a fire, trying desperately to jerk away from the lick of the flames. 

“I know, kid, I know exactly what you need.” his breath is heavy and warm in fans across your skin. You're dripping down the sides of his face and onto the cleric’s desk. Kenny is covered in you, open mouthed kisses against the sweetest thing he’s ever had in his mouth. The tangy taste of your pussy mixing with the wine still on his tongue. 

If he spent forever between your thighs, it wouldn’t be nearly long enough.

“Such a sweet little thing, you’re insatiable.” All you can do is nod dumbly, eyes glazing over with a distinct look of teary submission. It’s so new to you, but grinding upwards and catching your clit against his chin seems like second nature.

The primal need for release is much stronger than any prayer of abstinence. 

“What would your little prayer circle think if they knew you spread your legs for a dirty old fucker like me?” Kenny coos against the apex of your thighs. His words knock on the hollow space behind your breastbone.

Your family and friends, the priest from St. Mary’s who baptized you, old man Jaeger from next door— all buried or burned to ash or so much worse.

Anyone you’ve ever loved is dead, maybe that’s why Kenny is still around.

There’s nothing that can hold you back anymore, the control you claw at slips from your fingers like watery silk. There’s no escaping the roughness of his stubble and an evil, serpent tongue.

“Kenny!”

You cum with a shattering cry, the sound ringing so loud in your ears you swear any enemy of the living in a 10 mile radius could hear you. In reality, what escapes is little more than a broken snivel. 

It hurts, muscles aching from the exertion of trying to keep from falling apart. Your body is a hairpin trigger, the comedown feels more like withdrawal.

“There’s my girl, my good little girl.” His voice is uncharacteristically soft, doting while you fall back to earth. It’s a strange feeling, you’ve never found comfort in Kenny before, he isn’t the shoulder you go to lean on. 

But tonight he’s the chin you buck into.

The aftershocks run across your naked skin, already missing the feeling of his touch as he settles back into the cracked leather chair. 

His cock presses into the denim confines uncomfortably, the ache can wait though. Whether this is his last night alive or has all the time in the world-- he’s going to savor the glistening prize nestled between your thighs. Kenny’s fingers find the cigar where it lies next to your knee, bringing it up to examine while you squirm at the cold night air against your wet cunt.

“No one will ever make you feel as good as I do,” both legs kick out, falling to dangle on either side of his knees in surprise as the cigar comes down to trace your outer lips. He presses the tuck inwards, pulling out slightly so you cry out. The harsh texture of the wrapper mixes with the most minimal of stimulation, causing tears to clump in your waterline. 

“Why don’t you think of a way to repay me, hmm?”

You push past the heaviness in your muscles, sitting up to meet his incredulous stare. Kenny sticks the cigar between his teeth, striking a match from the desk drawer to light the cap. The cigar is stale, cheap tobacco. But every drag now tastes like you.

“I- I could try to--” Words are left unspoken on your tongue, even now, the intonation is poison in your throat. 

You expect Kenny to laugh at your bashfulness, instead, two fingers come up to curl around the Rosary around your neck. He drags you forward, exhaling smoke into your parted, quivering lips. You try your best not to choke. 

He pulls the cigar away, ashing it carelessly on the floor.

“Use your words, kid, tell me what you want.” His words are sleazy but his voice is soft around the edges. Prompting you to shuffle onto his lap. His free hand rests in the small of your back to keep you steady.

“I want--” Fuck, your voice feels like it’ll fail, you take a moment to breathe, “I want you to fuck me, Kenny.” 

Your plea is rushed, so quick to hit his ears he almost misses it. There’s no hiding anymore, there’s nowhere else in this world but the private quarters of a long-dead clergy member. The space between you and Kenny is foggy and tense, only inches between lips.

There’s no more penance in this world, no more time to sit and atone for his sins with prayer. The soft, syrupy feeling of your cunt wrapping around his cock is a slice of heaven, cut out and stolen right from the sky. 

“I thought you’d never ask, doll face.” 

✞ all writing is dymphnasprose’s original content, please do not repost or modify. do no read my content as asmr.©️

[nightlight-firelight]

Hi everyone! Sorry for the long wait! Art block (Or writing block?) is the worst and I’ve been busy. I’m also trying to make this a gender neutral story and I’m not too experienced on this so hopefully I’m doing ok so far! Now with that out of the way, on to chapter 2!

“Falling (in love) So Fast That I Can’t Even Think!”

Chapter 2

You take a second to realize that he was holding you a bit tight around the waist, and the silence of the tension began to build every second that neither of you moved.

“Hi?” You ask him. You mentally smacked yourself in the head for that comment. At this point of view, you can see that the, now real and very handsome doctor, eyes were a shade of blue that could take your breath away and-

“Oh, um,” Eggman studdered out a bit softer and less confident the what you have seen him in the show. “Hi.” He finally decided to look around at his predicament and examined your room.

“Where am I?” Eggman finally pulled you back onto the bed, creaking slightly from the unexpected new weight. Your mind finally snaps back into reality as the warmth from his hands fades from your hips, already missing the connection he had. You need to relax, and not freak out the poor man sitting on your bed.

“You’re in my room.” You finally managed to push the words out of your lips. His face turns to confusion and worries at all of the merchandise of not just his universe, but the main Sonic series as well. His mind mostly likely wandered into a ‘crazy fan’ mode and tried to back up. You perk up and lean back slightly, making sure to not fall off the bed this time, but also give him some space to relax. Ivo’s movements began to quicken as he still backs up, almost falling off the other side of the bed. He catches himself and looks at you with a face of slight panic and worry.

“What’s all this? Who are you and what-” You cut him off with a hand slightly raised, signaling to calm down and to relax. “Breath, please. I won’t hurt you.” You promised him as you instruct him through a breathing exercise. After a small bit of confusion between the two of you, you lead the poor man into your living room, hesitantly on his part, and led him down on your couch. Just walking into your kitchen to grab two white ceramic mugs, you hear him clear his throat.

“So, what’s going on?” You can feel his gaze on you as the first mug is filled with hot liquid, the steam coming from the filling mug as your brain thinks of what you should do. You switch mugs, taking out his mug for yours. You take a breath.

You’re in my house, and not in your multiverse.” Finally giving him some type of answer as his, at this point, huge bear paw-like hands, envelope the mug and took a small sip. You went to grab your mug as he commented on the choice of beverage you had given him.

“Hot Cocoa?” The question you as you at on the opposite side of the couch, holding what you liked to think, that at this moment was your liquid courage. You take a small sip and taste the liquid pooling into your body. You almost blush as you remembered the ‘CowBot’ episode where Eggman offered Sonic and Tails hot coco and messed with them, waiting for his machine to arrive.

“I thought you might like it.” You confess as he stairs back into his cup, pondering on his whole situation. He takes a breath and looks at you.

“Can you explain to me how I may have gotten here?” All you could do is nod as you start the long trek into the explanation of who is and on all of your knowledge on how he may have gotten here.

______________________________________________________________________________________________

The next few hours were, as you expected, emotional. You had to start with who you were, where he was, and leading him into the conversation that may or may not have caused way too much emotion for the both of you.

“So the main series follows Sonic and his friends, but mostly Sonic, throughout his adventures fighting his version of the doctor. There in the form of games.” He takes a sec and has a look that tells you to keep going. You explain all the story of how the franchise came to be from the nineties till the game you were kinda worried about. Sonic Adventure 2. You tell him the basic plot points and slowly explain how the Main Univers Doc’s Grandfather died along with his grandchild, Maira. He winces when you explain this and see that he’s shaking whenever the two popped up. When you explained that Shadow was made by his Grandfather, his mood perked up and he getting giddy and you have to admit, his cute squeal of figuring out that somewhere he could be related to one of the most powerful people on his island. You smile and after his cute reaction, keeps the conversation going with more information about the franchise. By the time you had reached the current point of the history of the franchise, the man had a lot of questions.

“So let me get this straight,” Eggman’s posture was lax as he was leaned back into the couch, making himself more at home for the time being. “You’re telling me that the main version of me has released a water monster god, a prototype of Shadow, that is a giant lizard, a god within the earth that’s made of darkness, and tried to play with time and space like it was a toy?” He questioned as he took another sip of his now lukewarm cup of cocoa, stroking his mustache pensively, looking at you for a reasonable answer on why he would do so. “Well the BioLizard thing wasn’t truly his fault, but the rest were planed. And I’m saying ‘planned’ with quotes because I don’t think for a second that he thought a few of those through.” You chuckle at the main Doc’s decisions. While you did think his plans were really good, sometimes you think he may have never really thought things through before going to start his plans. Doc downs the rest of his drink as you realized that your cup is still half full. He sets it on the counter in front of the two of you and leans back into your couch. You smile at the thought that he’s finally warming up to you. In all reality, he could take you down with a swing of his fist and run anytime, but having him trust you this much to serve him a drink and have a nice conversation did bring up some fuzzy feelings you have been trying to push down withing the last few hours.

“So I’m still confused, how did I get here?” Doc asks as he cracks his spin a bit to relax better. You take another sip of your dink and set your cup down. You look him in the eye with a bit of confusion. “I’m not sure. I just watch the DVD and you were the one to start seeing me, after the ending of your battle with Sonic and Tails, that white light appeared and you grabbed me before I fell off my bed.” You look towards him and blush a bit, your face now warm from the memory of the save. “Thank you for catching me, I don’t think a concussion would have helped the situation now, would it?” You try and make the small joke appealing to make it less awkward. He blushes and nods, a small ‘no problem’ slips from his lips as you can see he’s trying to not make eye contact and his cheeks, just slightly visible under his mustache, a small bit of warmth wraps around his cheeks. Your brain gets hit with a moment of clarity and you jump up from the couch and take a second to grab your DVD player from your room, bringing it back to him to study. “I’m not sure if this would help you get back home,” You start, “ But it’s a start.” You also hand him the note that came with the box along with the Sonic figure. He takes the figure first and rolls it over a bit, looking at the detail.

“So this figure and the note came along in the box with the DVDs?” He asked as he set the figure down as he grabbed the note. You blush and remember that wasn’t the only thing in the box. You almost had forgotten the figure of the living breathing man in front of you. You ask him to give you a second and hurry back to your room. Searching the room, you almost give up on finding the figure, until you spot it halfway under the bed. You bend over and grab the figure and examine it. It’s still the same figure, but less detailed now. It actually looks like how one of the box set figures is. Cheaply made and having a missing paint splotch here and there. It still was a good-looking figure though, just not as best made. You start your very slow pace back to the living room, taking a small bit of time to think about something. The Sonic figure was still the same as it was before the doctor arrived, why did the doctor change-. You stop mid-way in your hallway to finally piece a big puzzle together. The figure of the doctor was some type of catalyst for his arrival. Like a gateway to get here. ‘And now that the figure is back to normal, does that mean that the Sonic one-’ You didn’t finish that thought as you hurry back to the living room, the doctor just putting the not back onto the counter. He looks up as grabs the DVD player and sets it onto his lap. He smiles as you enter the room.

“ Hey, you ok?” He asks you as you sit back down next to him, gently grab the Sonic figure, cradling it with some care.

“I’m ok,” You answer with some melancholy in your voice. “It’s just that I’ve been thinking of something that just came to me.” You look over to him, Doc staring back, patiently waiting for you to continue. You take a breath and look him in the eyes. “The box set also came with a figure of you as well.” You explain as you gave him the small toy, his face going into a slight pout over the quality as he looks it over.

“I’m much more handsome than this.” He sulks over the craftsmanship of his figure compared to the one in your hand. You pat him on the back with your free hand, feeling him tense for a sec and then relax. You giggle at the line, remembering it from the 30th-anniversary comic. Your mood lightening up a bit at his reaction. “It was actually just as well made before you appeared in my room.” You explained as you rub your thumber gingerly over Sonic’s quills. Your mood dampens a bit. “I’m really thinking that the figure was the way-”

And a giant flash of white engulfed both of your eyesight. You scream as you feel a sense of weightlessness as you clutch the figure closer to you. Opening your eyes after that flashbang of light, as see that you’re in. You blink and take a look around. You try and gain a scene of where you were as you feel like you were falling down. You see Eggman trying his best not to scream as he is also in the same predicament as you. You look at this ‘tube’ as you decided to call it and take a look a the warping walls. They move with colors that remind you of the goop In Super Mario Sunshine. The colors of yellow, magenta, and white mixing together and making the whole experience feel like a trippy dip around a pipe. The tube had some slight aura to it as it was some type of fuzzy feeling in the back of your spine, not good but not unpleasant either. You look down past your now slightly screaming partner in crime to see a large warp ring that looked something right of the Sonic movie, looking to land right over some type of woods. You realized from the rate your accelerating from and the height from the ring to the ground would lead to more than a few broken bones.

Holding your breath and snaping your eyes closed as you wait for the pain to hit, the now cool air of the new land you arrived on pools into your skin as you want to feel at least a bit of joy knowing that right at the end, you feel cool. You never did feel the ground but instead a pair of arms holding you and the sensation of rocketing back up. Opening your eyes, you see Doc holding you again, having been lifted from the ground by two sleek black jetpack type of wings protruding from the back of his jacket. He looks down at you with a smirk and chuckles a bit.

“We have got to stop doing this.” He’s sarcastic, and the potential way of flirting, way of teasing sends you a bit more than tomato red in the face as you wonder if it’s the altitude of the comment that making it hard to think right at the moment. You almost didn’t hear him as he starts to talk.

“It looks like we’re flying over Seaside Island Jungle.” He starts to explain. “I’m going to fly us back to my lair and we can figure out from there what’s going on.” You look over his shoulder for a brief second to see the portal closing and finally dusting away with a puff of gold sparks. Looking back and see a breathtaking view, seeing the full grand scale of the island from up in the clouds. You can even start making out at sever locations from both seasons. You only think of what’s going to happen next when you see golden sparks emulate from your closed hands and feel a heavyweight in your arms and Doc quickly getting down to the ground, getting to be just at the end of ‘Nameless village’ as your reflexes grab on tightly to what you were holding onto. You both look down and see a very unconscious Sonic the Hedgehog in our arms. You look him over and inspect the teenager and see that he’s breathing, and in an ok shape. You look back at Doc and even he’s surprised by this addition to the group.

“Is he ok?”You question him as he gives Sonic a once over. You getting used to finally landing on the ground, stretching your legs after that small adventure.

‘He’ll be fine after some rest, but he looks exhausted.” Eggman questions as you scoop Sonic back up into your arms, being careful of his quills, making sure you don’t end up looking like a human banana peel. You look over at Doc and he looks like he’s, and you have to look a bit more closely at his expression because he looks, jealous? You ponder on that thought that the man might be jealous of the unconscious blue blur as the both of you set off into town, wondering where to go from here.

“Hey!” You hear a cry from in front of the, three? of you. You look up and see four multi-colored anthropomorphic animals. “What did the two of you do to Sonic?” Cried the two-tailed Kitsune. You see all three, with the exception of Amy, who at this point is trying to stop the trio, of Sonic’s friends close in around you. You give a panicked look to Doc as it dawned on you that Doc and yourself were about to be attacked by Tails, Knuckles, and Sticks.

Shit.

[datleggy]

Buddie prompt: aggressively pro-buddie Helena and Ramon Diaz, who are ecstatic when Eddie tells them he's dating, and then utterly befuddled when he introduces Ana. But they decide to bite their tongues about it (Buck, their future son in law, has talked to them about respecting Eddie's decisions, however dumb, after all), until Ana (unwittingly? Innocently? No matter) makes a comment about Buck, and then all bets are off.

Hope this inspires you!

Helena is so relieved that Eddie finally feels comfortable enough to come out to them, that she could cry. She feels awful that it took her so long to realize it. 

It had been on Eddie’s last visit to Texas, when he and his crew had been fighting wildfires, that Ramon--her dense as can be when it comes to matters of the heart husband of all people--had noticed that their son was in love. 

Helena still remembers saying goodbye to her son and his two teammates, remembers Ramon closing the door, waiting exactly all of five seconds before turning to her and saying, “I’m happy for him. He’s so stubborn, I didn’t know if he’d ever let himself get that close to someone again.” 

And Helena had been confused at first, and then even chuckled when Ramon had explained calmly that clearly their son was dating his coworker Buck, until she’d stopped to really give it a moment’s thought. It had hit her all at once, how obvious those two were, and she couldn’t help but wonder how long it had been since they’d started dating and why Eddie hadn’t said anything yet. 

She’s seen the photos on Instagram, Helena thinks, as their plane lands. Buck smiling next to her grandbaby after helping her son build him a skateboard he could safely ride in the park. Buck standing shoulder to shoulder with Eddie behind Tia and Christopher in that Christmas photo at the station. The selfie Eddie posted of him and Buck with the giant cast still on his leg the day of the ceremony for when he was no longer a probationary firefighter with the 118. 

Really, she should’ve figured it out months ago. 

When Eddie had called and told her he’d started dating again and that the next time they came to visit he’d make an introduction Helena had been thrilled! 

Ramon drives them from the airport to their son’s place in their rental and Helena rambles on about how she hopes Buck isn’t too nervous to see them again, now that the cat’s out of the bag. 

When they arrive Eddie greets them at the door with a big hug and ushers his parents inside and Helena is so ready to step into the living room and welcome Buck into the family with open arms, to show her son that there was nothing to be afraid of, that they love him and nothing in the world would change that--

Only to be met with....not Buck? 

“Oh,” Helena stops dead in her tracks and Ramon stands beside her looking about as confused as she feels. “Hello.” she smiles politely enough. 

The woman sitting next to Christopher on the couch stands up and she’s absolutely stunning, her curls bouncing on her shoulders when she stands up to exchange hello’s. “It’s so nice to meet you both. My name is Ana.” 

The rest of the afternoon goes by just fine, but Eddie can tell something is amiss the entire time, though he does a good job of hiding it from Ana, who’s her usual charming self through out lunch. 

She has to take a work call at some point and excuses herself to another room and that’s when Eddie turns to his parents and half-whispers. “Ok, I know those looks. What’s wrong?” 

Helena shakes her head, feigning ignorance. “I don’t know what you mean.” 

Eddie sighs, rolling his eyes. “Seriously, what is it? Ana is perfect. She’s incredibly smart, she’s funny, she’s got a great job, good head on her shoulders, and Christopher loves her--so again, I ask, what’s wrong?” 

Ramon follows his wife’s lead. “Mijo, really, it’s nothing. She’s great. We’re happy for you. I think we’re just a little tired from the flight, that’s all.” 

Eddie narrows his eyes slightly but decides there isn’t much sleuthing that can be done at the moment, so all he can do is take them at their word for now. “Fine, if you say so.” 

They’re in the middle of watching Nemo when Buck's name comes up.

"When the tsunami happened Buck and I sang 'just keep swimming' like Dory." Christopher grins up at his dad and Eddie ruffles the curls on his head playfully. It helps Christopher to be able to openly talk about what he went through that day, the good and the bad.

"You never told me Buck was there that day." Ana comments off handedly.

Eddie nods, "Huh, I thought I mentioned it? Buck took him to the pier that morning."

"It was scary but Buck saved me." Christopher tells his grandma, who reaches across the couch to squeeze his arm. Helena had been horrified to hear what had happened at the time; it still gives her anxiety just thinking about it.

"That's right." She says softly.

"I thought some woman you didn't know carried him to one of the tents, and that's how you two were reunited, no?" Ana asks.

"Yeah, but before that, during the initial impact Buck was with Christopher, he managed to get him up to this firetruck in the middle of everything. It was after he dove back into the water to save someone that a second wave came and swept Christopher right off and they got separated from there." Eddie recalls solemnly.

There had been blood running down the dirty wet bandage on his arm, he'd been soaked to the bone, exhausted and barely standing upright. It wasn't until Christopher had been found that Buck had allowed himself to collapse.

"Oh..." Ana frowns.

Ramon puts a hand over his heart and sighs. "It's a miracle, really."

Ana doesn't mean to say it outloud, but the words comes tumbling out of her mouth without warning. "And you're still friends with him?"

Eddie blinks. "What?"

"I'm sorry, really, it's just--I don't understand." Ana rubs her shoulder self consciously, fully aware of the fact that everyone is looking at her. "Look, Edmundo, you nearly bit my head off when Christopher got a skinned knee under my watch but you're still best friends with the man who lost your son for God only knows how long? It doesn't make any sense to me."

Ana knows how overprotective Eddie is of his son, and in fact, that's one of the reasons she likes him so much; she admires that about him and this? It doesn't track with the man she knows.

Helena wants to open her mouth and she say something in defense of Buck--he's a good man, after all. But she knows better than to get between a couple in an argument, especially given how bias she is towards her future son in law...

Instead, she clears her throat and looks at Christopher, "Honey, how about you help me and Grandpa unpack? I bought a lot of fun things from Texas for you."

Christopher doesn't want to go. His Dad looks upset. Ana looks upset. He wants to stay and help. If Ana met Buck she would understand, Christopher's sure of it. But his grandparents are already leading him down the hall and to the guest room.

Christopher hangs out with his grandparents for a few minutes before fibbing and telling them he needs to use the bathroom. They both offer to help him but he insists that he can do it himself, promising to call out if he needs them.

He sneaks the home phone into the bathroom with him and dials a number he knows by heart at this point. He waits a couple of rings before the call connects.

"Hey, what's up?" Buck's voice comes through the other end. He sounds distracted.

"Bucky? Can you come get me?" He whispers into the phone.

He hears a small commotion and then a stifled 'ow!' and then: "Chris? Are you ok? You're home, right? What's wrong? Where's Eddie?"

"I'm home. I'm ok. But--" there's a knock on the door and it startles Christopher into accidentally hanging up the phone before he can explain the situation in it's entirety.

"It was a tsunami." Eddie sighs, "It wouldn't be fair to hold something like that over his head. And look, you weren't there. You didn't see the look on his face, you don't know how many hours he spent crying out Christopher's name at the top of his lungs, injured and looking nonstop through the rubble for him--"

"Yeah, which he wouldn't have had to do if he hadn't lost him in the first place. It sounds like he was too busy playing hero for strangers to watch your son." Ana folds her arms across her chest. "I don't want to fight. Especially not with your parents here. Honestly, I'm just confused? We don't have to talk about this right now. I can go. I just want to apologize to your parents and Christopher first, before I leave, for," she sighs, embarrassed, "well, for causing a scene. This is not the way I'd pictured meeting your parents."

"You know, if you just met Buck I really think you would--"

A cacophony of knocks at the door make the both of them jump. Ana looks at Eddie. "Were you expecting anyone else?"

"Christopher!? Christopher I'm here, open up!"

Eddie gapes. "...Buck?"

"Did you...call him over?" Ana didn't even see him reach for his phone.

"What? No, of course not." Eddie starts towards the door--the knocking has gotten so boisterous he's pretty sure Buck's about to break down his door--but Ana beats him to it.

At this point Eddie's parents and Christopher are in the hallway wondering what all that racket is.

Ana lets the door swing open, and if she's being entirely honest she's not sure what she's planning on saying to the man who's essentially at the center of her first real argument with her boyfriend, but whatever it was, it goes up in smoke when she takes in the sight of him.

Buck is taller than she'd pictured but that's not what's got her speechless.

He's standing at the doorway, chest heaving, clearly having rushed out of his house, where he was very obviously in the middle of shaving, if the shaving cream still smeared on a third of his face is any indication. He's in sweatpants and a white undershirt that's got little drops of blood on the front from where he must have cut himself while shaving. There's a bright red cut running down the underside of his chin.

"Um." Ana can't do much except stare, wide eyed.

Buck blinks at her, "Uh...Ana?" He suddenly realizes all the people in the house behind her are looking at him in a kind of stupor.

She nods slowly. "Buck?"

Buck nods sheepishly, "Uh... So, I am clearly interrupting something here."

"You came!" Christopher moves past all of the adults in the corridor and throws himself at Buck's legs.

Buck lifts the kid up easily enough, crutches and all, "Yeah, about that," he gently pinches his cheek, eliciting a giggle out of Christopher, "What was that phone call all about? You nearly gave me a heart attack, bud."

Eddie groans. "Christopher, did you call Buck to come all the way over here in the middle of the day?" He walks over and uses the cuff of his shirt sleeve to wipe away the rest of the shaving cream on the side of Buck's face. The look on his face is fond as he does so. "What did this little menace say to get you over here in such a rush?"

Christopher pouts. "I just told him to come get me. I thought if Miss Ana met my Bucky she'd know how come you're still best friends." He grips at Buck's t shirt tightly. "You can't stop being friends, Dad. I love Buck. He's my friend too."

Buck frowns. "Umm..."

Eddie gives him an apologetic look. "Sorry, it's not--it's complicated. I promise to explain everything later. Right now isn't really a great time--"

Ana interrupts hesitantly. "Actually, now is probably good. I need to get home soon, it's getting pretty late, so I should get going." She turns to Helena and Ramon. "It was very nice to meet you both." She scoohches past Buck and Christopher and practically sprints to where she parked her car, aware of the fact that Eddie is calling out her name and only half a step behind her.

It's not until they're several blocks down the street that she swivels around and he nearly topples into her in his haste. "Ana, please, I don't want you to leave like this. I really didn't call him over." He reaches into his back pocket and shows her his phone. "See?"

Ana takes the phone and presses her lips together thinly. "He called you like twenty times on his way over."

Eddie frowns. His phone must have been on silent. It's no wonder Buck rushed over like he did. "He was just worried about Christopher--"

Ana sighs resignedly. "No, I know. It's obvious, how much your best friend cares about your son. I can see why he's still in your life. And I think I can also see why that means you don't really have any room for me in it..."

Eddie shakes his head. "What? Why would you say that?"

Ana looks him in the eye, intent as can be on reading him. Eddie had smiled so warmly, creating such an unintentionally intimate moment when all he'd done was swipe at the other mans face with his sleeve...

"You don't even know, do you?"

"Know what?"

"I think this is something you and Buck need to sort out yourselves. Goodbye Edmundo."

Eddie closes the door behind him as he steps inside, a little heartbroken and a lot confused.

There's noise coming from the kitchen and so Eddie follows it to the source. Ramon is telling Buck about how to sear the perfect steak by the stove while Helena and Christopher set the table.

"Is everything alright?" Helena asks, when she notices him by the entryway.

Eddie nods, lying when he says. "Yeah, all good Mom."

She gives him a knowing look but keeps her mouth shut. "Honey, take Buck here to your room, let him borrow one of your shirts. And maybe a razor?"

Buck chuckles shyly. "It's fine, really. I should probably get going too--"

Ramon shushes him. "Nonsense. Go, go, get changed and get your butt back into this kitchen. Scoot."

Eddie takes Buck by the shoulders and drags him to his room, where he finds a worn gray Henley for him. "Here."

Buck thanks him before stripping out of his white undershirt and throwing on the clean shirt.

Eddie plops himself down on his bed with a sigh. "Hey, I'm sorry about all this mess. And on your one day off, too."

Buck sits down beside him, bumping their shoulders together. "I don't really know what's going on but, are you doing ok?"

"I don't know," Eddie makes a face. "I think I got broken up with today."

Buck cringes. "Shit, I'm sorry, what happened?"

That's a good question. Eddie ponders that a moment. Ana had said it herself: she understood perfectly why Eddie didn't blame Buck for what happened during the tsunami and she had seen first hand how much Buck cares for Christopher for herself today.

So, why?

"She said that there wasn't any room for her in my life?" Eddie scratches the back of his head. "Maybe I'm just not cut out for this dating stuff anymore."

"Aw, c'mon man," Buck pats him on the back. "You fall off the bike you gotta get right back on." He turns his body all the way around so that he's facing Eddie fully. "Dude, you're a catch. You're a handsome, badass firefighter, you've got the best kid, and hey--you got me." Buck grins toothily.

Eddie rolls his eyes, though he can't help but smile. "So what I'm hearing here is that I'm stuck with you?"

"Oh yeah, for sure." Buck laughs.

Eddie leans back on his arms and looks up at his best friend, pensive. "Promise?"

Buck extends his pinky and wiggles it in front of Eddie, who smiles as he wraps his pinky around Buck's. "Promise."

.

[ssahotchhner]

like real people do

PART TWO

hi! this is my first criminal minds fic, i haven’t watched the show all the way through in several years and while doing a rewatch discovered that i HAD to write hotch. this will be two parts, here’s the first! let me know your thoughts please, i love talking to my readers (:

words: 5837

pairing: hotch x reader

warnings: usual criminal minds nastiness, rape mention, death, curse words

Everyone knew that SSA Aaron Hotchner has been emotionally unavailable since his divorce, so everyone was that much more surprised when he kissed you at the bar in front of all your colleagues at the BAU. You wouldn’t lie, you had had a crush on Aaron for years now, but you had imagined your hypothetical romance much differently. As it was, Aaron had immediately left the bar in a flurry of embarrassment, murmuring a hurried apology on his way out leaving you to the unabashed teasing of your coworkers that you had pretended to brush off. Now, days later, Aaron still refused to so much as look at you.

“Y/N,” Morgan rolled his chair over to your desk, “I’m dying to know, is Hotch a good kisser?”

You sigh, “Fuck off, Derek.”

“Leave the poor girl alone, Derek,” Rossi says as he passes by, “Don’t you think it’s bad enough Hotch is giving her the silent treatment now?”

You tried to hide the way the tears pricked the back of your eyes at his comment, but you were surrounded by FBI profilers.

Morgan lowered his voice and reach out his hand to touch your arm, “Hey, babygirl, I’m sorry, I was just teasing, maybe you should try talking to Hotch--”

“Talking to me about what?” Aaron had been so quiet walking up on you and your head had been low, so focused on not crying that you hadn’t heard him.

“Nothing.” You say quickly, and as expected he avoids making eye contact, “Do you need something, sir?” You don’t miss the way he flinches at the formality. Good.

“We have a new case.” He says simply and walks away.

Morgan let out a low whistle, “You really hit him with the ‘sir.’” You started to get up from your desk, but Morgan put a hand on your arm again, “Seriously, Y/N, I’m sorry. If you need to talk I’m here.”

You sighed and stood up again, forcing a smile, “There’s nothing to talk about Derek, I’m fine. Now come on.”

“We have a serial rapist in Milwaukee, Wisconsin.” JJ starts immediately as everyone files in. You feel Morgan’s gaze on you the entire time and try not to get frustrated. He’s been like a brother to you since you joined the BAU a few years ago and you know this overprotectiveness was just him being a good friend, but it was bound to drive you nuts. “Victims are all white women ranging from their late teens to early twenties at a local university.”

“Why are we being called in for a rapist on a college campus?” Reid asks, “I don’t mean to be insensitive, but we all know the statistics. There are dozens of serial rapists on college campuses.”

“Because this one is torturing them while he rapes them and leaves them notes leading up to the attacks.” Hotch says as Penelope begins to pull up pictures on the screen of these women. “Slut, whore, bitch, cunt. All carved on their chests.” You do your best to hide the nausea that rises in you as you look at the pictures. Do your job. You remind yourself.

“What do the notes say?” Emily asks.

“They seem like thinly veiled threats,” Reid begins, “They sound romantic at first glance, but if you read closely you can see the context.” 

“He breaks into their dorms when they’re at class or at parties and waits for them to come home and then he holds them at knifepoint so they won’t scream.” Penelope says, trying not to let her voice shake.

“Risky to do in a dorm building and no one’s seen him?” Morgan says.

Rossi ponders this, “That means he must blend in, someone no one would think twice about being inside. A student, an RA, or a university official.”

“University officials don’t normally enter student dorms unless there’s an issue, they’d be more likely to stand out and students would talk about them showing up.” Hotch muses.

“Y/N, you’re awful quiet today,” Emily nudges your elbow, “What do you think?”

You can feel everyone’s eyes on you, but Aaron’s. Still looking at his manila folder as if Emily hadn’t addressed you. As if you didn’t exist. You clear your throat, “I think the RA or student theory makes sense. We should probably interview the RA of the first victim, assuming he’s a man. It would make sense to me that he would start with one of his own students and then begin to branch out. Maybe he thought he could stop, get that release he needed after just one, but the need only grew stronger.”

“Wheels up in thirty, we’ll discuss more on the plane.” Hotch says and stands, walking out of the room without another glance.

“Did something happen last night at the bar?” Emily murmurs, the only member of the team who didn’t make it out the night before, “Hotch is acting really weird around you.”

Derek snickers on the other side of you and you elbow him, “That’s it, I’m going to talk to him.”

Reid winces, “Good luck.”

“It’ll be fine, kid.” Rossi says and squeezes your shoulder as you pass.

You take a long breath before you finally build the courage to walk into Aaron’s office where he’s packing his briefcase. “Sir, can I talk to you for a moment?”

“Can it wait until we’re on the plane, agent?”

Agent. You roll your eyes toward the ceiling, “No, sir, it can’t.” You can’t hide the bite in your words this time. He finally looks at you, really looks at you. You wonder what he sees.

“Close the door.” He says quietly and then sits behind his desk.

You walk slowly to the seat in front of his desk. This time, he watches you. “This is the first time you’ve looked at me all day.”

“I wasn’t aware you were analyzing me.”

“Are you telling me you haven’t been analyzing me all day?”

“Agent, what is this about? We have a plane to catch.”

You stare at him for a few moments longer, “Fine,” You stand, “If you want to pretend nothing happened, I’ll do the same. But if you could at least stop ignoring me, that would be great.”

“Agent--”

“And use my goddamn name, for Christ’s sake.”

He stares at you and you know he hates your emotional outburst and that in turn makes you hate yourself. “Then you stop calling me ‘sir.’” He says quietly.

Your eyes soften for just a moment and then you storm back out of his office nearly plowing over Rossi as you leave. Rossi walks into Aaron’s office to see him rubbing his forehead, “Well that doesn’t look like it went well.”

“I screwed up, Rossi.” 

“Oh, come on Hotch, it was just one kiss. It didn’t mean anything--”

“It did mean something. To me. Maybe not to her.”

Rossi shakes his head, “Then why are you giving her the cold shoulder?”

Hotch sighs, “Because we work together, because she doesn’t feel the same, because she’s the first woman I’ve kissed since Haley. Pick a reason.” Rossi looks like he’s going to interject, but Hotch stands, “We don’t have time for this, Rossi, let’s go.”

Rossi sighs as he watches Aaron walk out of his office and follows after.

***

You’re quiet most of the plane ride, conscious of the looks everyone is giving you as you read the information in the manila folder over and over, trying to be good at your job instead of thinking about your boss.

“When we get off the plane, JJ and Prentiss, you go talk to the victims. Rossi and I will touch base with the police. Morgan, Reid, Y/N, you go talk to anyone you can find at the dorms, see if anyone’s seen anyone suspicious.” You make it a point not to react, but everyone else reacts anyway, watching you carefully. Hotch almost always assigns himself with you. 

“If you guys don’t stop psychoanalyzing me I will eject myself from this plane.” 

Everyone looks away except Aaron and when you meet his eyes, he’s smirking. Those smiles are so rare and you can’t deny how it satisfies you to know you were the reason he did so. You quickly look back down at your work, careful not to reveal anything you’re feeling.

***

“Do you have feelings for Hotch?” Reid asks without preamble when you’re in the car with Derek.

“Spencer!” You exclaim in outrage. Derek just laughs from the driver’s seat.

“What? You both wouldn’t be being so weird about one kiss if it wasn’t something more.”

“Okay, Romeo, remember that she’s armed.” Derek cautioned.

“He’s my boss, Reid. It’s weird because he’s my boss.”

“Well, sure, by definition Hotch is our superior but we all know--” Reid cut himself off when he saw the look Derek was giving him in the rearview mirror, “Yeah, you’re right, it’s weird.” He said quickly.

You sigh and turn to the window and ignore Derek and Spencer the rest of the ride.

***

“So you mean to tell me that ten women have come forward about being raped in their dorms and you told them to consider themselves lucky they weren’t murdered and sent them home without doing a rape kit?” Aaron’s furious. Furious with himself for the previous night and he’s more than happy to take out that anger on the local Milwaukee police department.

“Look, man, we get a lot of he said she said in here, we don’t have the time or the man power to follow up on every one.”

Just then his phone rings. It’s you. He wishes he could ignore the pang that goes through him just from reading your name. “Hotch.” He answers.

“Sir-- I mean, Aaron.” You correct yourself quickly, and then realize you should have called him Hotch, but it’s too late. “They’ve found a body.”

He frowns, “A body? That doesn’t fit his MO.”

You swallow, “Yeah, well, everything else does. He seems to have gotten a little carried away with the carving this time.”

“We’ll be right there.”

You hang up your phone and then turn back to Reid and Morgan who are looking over the crime scene. You sit with Victoria’s, the victim’s, distraught roommate and try to calm her and maybe get some actual information out of her. You don’t hear or see Aaron walk in until he’s already next to you, “Did you get anything from her?”

His closeness makes it hard to focus, “Just regular roommate stuff, she might be more useful once she calms down. I asked if her roommate had a boyfriend or anything like that and she said she was quiet, kept to herself. Boys were out of the question.”

“He’s escalated. Why?”

You shrug, “Could be because we’re here, that might have upset him and he lost control. But it could have been an accident, roommate says Victoria had a heart condition. The stress of the situation might have killed her.”

Hotch nods, “Good work.”

He was trying to be normal, you could tell. And he was trying so hard. “Thank you.” You said softly and then you excused yourself. Everything about him set you on edge and over and over the moment he kissed you plays in your head.

***

You’re both laughing to near snorting while sitting at the bar and Aaron can’t stop watching you, “You have an incredible laugh, you know?” He says softly when you’ve both settled down. “Sometimes when I think this job isn’t worth it, I’ll hear your laugh outside my office and just that sound…” He realizes what he’s saying suddenly and turns his head away from you smiling at his drink now.

“You make it worth it for me too.” You say and his eyes are back on you, “You so rarely ever smile, but when you smile at me… It makes it all worth it. The long hours, the horrible cases… all of it.”

When you look back at him he’s suddenly serious again. You can see his eyes calculating as he searches your face and you realize with a bit of shock that he’s trying to see if you’re lying. When his eyes finally settle back on yours, he gently reaches up, almost without thinking about it and curls a loose piece of hair behind your ear.

And then in the next second, his hand still on your face, his mouth is on yours.You forget that there’s anyone else in the world for those few seconds that he kisses you. Until everyone on the team starts jeering and Aaron pulls away like he’s seen a ghost.

“Aaron?” You say, frowning as he jumps up from his seat, not looking at you and gathering his things.

“I’m sorry.” Is all he murmurs and then runs out.

Derek’s laughing as he walks up to you, “Damn, princess. You broke Hotch! I gotta say, you’re incredibly out of his league.” You glare at him. “What? You’re out of my league too.”

You smile at that and try to act like everything’s normal, but you’re sure Spencer notices that you drink more and laugh a little too loudly.

***

You’re pulled back from the memory as JJ walks toward you, “Hey, you alright?”

“Yeah,” You nod, “Fine, just needed a second alone to think.”

She stops in front of you and rests her hand on your arm, lightly squeezing, “You can talk to me, you know, about men. Even Hotch.”

You smile, “I appreciate everyone’s concern, but I’m fine, really. It’s not that big a deal.”

“It’s a big deal if it starts interfering with the job, and I can see it on both of you,” She’s stern all of a sudden, “I know he’s our boss, but underneath that he’s just any other man, Y/N. Don’t let him fool you into thinking otherwise.”

“Guys,” Derek interrupts, sticking his head out into the hallway, “You’re gonna wanna see this.”

When you come back in the room, Spencer is crouched over the body, gloves on, examining the carvings in her body, “There’s hesitation in the cuts this time and you can tell they were done after she was dead. And if you look a little bit closer…”

“‘Sorry…’” You read the small script, astonished. “Remorse. It was an accident.” Your eyes dart back and forth as you lose yourself in your own thoughts while the rest of the team discusses, “I think we can deliver the profile.”

***

“We’re looking for a white male in his early to mid twenties.” Hotch starts, “He most likely is able to gain the women’s trust, maybe he’s a student RA or a student tech worker, but they let him in without a second thought.”

“I thought he breaks into the dorms and waits for them?” A cop asks.

“He does,” You say, “But the initial access is how he chooses his victims. He’s a loner, doesn’t have many friends, certainly no girlfriend. It’s possible that he asks these girls on dates when he first meets them, and when they refuse he feels entitled to them anyway which is why he comes back for the rape.”

“What about the murder?” Another cop asks.

“We believe the death of the last girl was an accident.” Reid responds, “She had a heart condition and the medical examiner has confirmed she died from sudden cardiac arrest. The unsub even seemed to show remorse when he defiled the body after, carving the word ‘sorry’ into her body.”

“The killing has most likely set him on edge. He’s remorseful, upset, overcome with immense guilt, but he blames the women. If they had just said yes to him, he wouldn’t have to do this. She wouldn’t have died.” Derek continues, “You should be looking for someone who was soft spoken, but as the rapes started he became more assertive, maybe he had an altercation with a professor or supervisor.”

“You’ve probably interviewed him already,” You say, “He inserts himself into the investigation because he feels guilt and watching the investigation play out validates that he was right for doing what he did.” You sigh, “There’s one more thing. He didn’t intend to kill Victoria, but… He spent time with the body after she had passed. He mutilated her as well as continued his rape of her afterward. It’s possible that he enjoyed the kill and will kill the next time as well. So stay vigilant and… please tell the girls not to let any men in their dorms. Thank you.”

Aaron comes up to you, “Can I speak to you alone for a moment?”

You nod and follow him into a conference room and he closes the door behind you, “You’re really an incredible profiler, agent.”

Again with the ‘agent.’ “Thank you, sir.”

“I just wanted to assure you that I will remain nothing but professional around you from here on out.”

You tilted your head to the side and you knew the pain was evident on your face as you didn’t try to hide it, “I see.”

“You’re upset.”

You laugh, “Did you mean anything you said at the bar, Aaron, or were you just drunk?” You’re aware of how vulnerable you’re being in front of him now as you can hear the tears in your own voice.

You see him calculating what the best response is and this just infuriates you more, “Forget it, you’re just going to talk to me like some unsub, trying to best figure out what to say to calm me down.”

He shakes his head, “That’s not what I’m doing.”

You start to walk out and stop to stand next to him, “You just said yourself I’m an incredible profiler, so please don’t profile me and think I won’t notice.”

He closes his eyes as you continue walking out, “Y/N, wait.” Despite yourself, you do stop at the sound of your name. “I’m sorry, I-- I meant the things I said at the bar, I’m… But I’m your boss and I don’t want to make it difficult for you to do your job.”

You force a smile and look up at him, “Don’t worry, Hotch, won’t be a problem.”

And then you’re gone and he gets the feeling you won’t call him Aaron ever again.

***

Spencer walks in the entrance of the dorm you’ve been staking out, two coffees in hand. He hands one to you wordlessly, “Have you gotten any sleep?”

“Obviously not.” You sigh and happily guzzle the coffee, “Thanks.”

“Hotch is upset.”

“About what?” You murmur, half paying attention, half going over the case again on the papers in front of you.

“About you, obviously.”

You don’t look up, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. How do you even know Hotch is upset? He always looks like he’s pissed at something.”

“Because I’m a profiler. Everyone knows he’s off, no one will say to his face that it’s because of you.”

You sigh and look up at him, “Spencer, we’re fine, okay? We’re adults.” He’s quiet, but he won’t stop staring at you, “What?”

“I know that I’m… not the most perceptive when it comes to emotions, but… I think he’s in love with you. And I’m pretty sure you’re in love with him.”

You smirk, “And what makes you think that, Mr. Profiler?”

He smiles back, “Well, Hotch is always watching you, mostly when you’re not looking and when he does his expression sort of… softens. He almost always assigns the two of you together when giving the unit assignments, which I think is partially because he likes to be around you, but also because he’s trying to protect you, especially after that hostage situation a few months ago. He was a wreck when you were in there. Screaming at everyone, I really thought he would kill the unsub when he found him.”

“He would do that for any of us, when any of us were in danger.” You said, quickly shaking your head to dismiss the idea.

But Spencer shakes his head, “You didn’t see him. It was different.”

“Spencer, he barely gave me a pat on the back when I left that hostage situation alive.”

“That’s because he doesn’t trust himself around you. Why do you think the only time he’s ever given you a hint at the way he feels was when he was drunk?”

Your head is spinning as you look at Spencer, “No, that doesn’t make any sense--”

“It makes perfect sense and I know you know that.” Spencer’s phone rings, “Reid.” He sighs and lowers his head, “Where? Okay, we’ll be right there.” He hangs up the phone, “There’s another body.”

You sigh, “I really hate being right.”

***

“You were right,” Hotch says from behind you, “He’s discovered he likes killing.”

It was never easy looking at bodies, but somehow it was always worse when you had predicted it and still not been able to stop it, “How did he do it?”

“Manual strangulation.”

“Has anyone checked for skin or blood under her fingernails? Sign of a struggle?”

Aaron nods, “Already scraped off and sent to Garcia.”

“Even if she can’t find a match, we’ll be able to narrow down suspects by the injuries she left.”

“The school is panicking, they want to evacuate the campus.”

“If they evacuate we’ll never find him, he’ll just start again somewhere else.”

“That’s what I told them.”

You sigh, “Why are the girls still letting him in?”

“Maybe they’re not,” Hotch mused, “Maybe he’s starting to pick the girls from his classes now that we’re here.”

“The last two victims, do we have their schedules? Their majors?”

“They were both nursing majors,” Emily interjects, “Third year.”

You nod, “Okay, so by that point, third year, majority of their classes are restricted to nursing majors only.” You flip your phone open and dial Penelope.

“Hello my delightful fairy princess, what can I do for you?”

“Garcia, the last two victims, can you cross reference their class schedules and tell me if they had any classes in common?”

“Yes, just a second… Three classes in common.”

“Okay, cross reference with the remaining victims.”

“Um, okay, wow, all of them had two classes in common.”

“Shit.” You mutter, “Can you send over the class rosters of both those classes, but just the men. And also send pictures.”

“You got it.”

“Thanks, Penelope.”

You shake your head, “They were all nursing majors.” You say as you hang up, “How did we miss that?”

Reid was shaking his head, “We didn’t have a lot of time to interview the victims before the first body turned up.”

“Alright, we need everyone looking through those rosters, rounding up every male we can and interviewing them.” Hotch starts, “Y/N, you’re with me for interviews, the rest of you keep in touch with Garcia and find out anything you can.”

You try to ignore the shock you feel that he picked you this time, noting Reid’s raised eyebrows as he left the room. “You sure you want me on interviews?” You ask when you’re alone.

He’s looking at all the evidence on the corkboard, “Why wouldn’t I?”

“Wasn’t sure if you would want to work closely with me anymore.” You say, standing next to him now and also looking over the evidence.

He looks at you now, “You have the same features as a lot of the victims, I’m hoping it’ll get a rise out of our unsub if we find him.”

You nod, “Makes sense.”

“And,” He says pointedly until you meet his eyes, “As I’ve said already, you’re an excellent agent and I could use your help on this.”

You heave a big sigh, “Okay, how do you wanna play it?”

He shrugs, “I think you already know what role I need you to play.”

***

This is maybe the tenth or so interview you and Hotch had done with no success. You were tired of playing this role, especially in front of Hotch.

“Jordan.” You smile sweetly at him, making sure to lean over the table just a little to give him the view he wants, “Did you know either of these girls?” You lay the pictures of the last couple victims on the table, wait to see his reaction. He brings his hands up to rest on the table and you see the shallow scratch marks on them, you share a discreet look with Hotch who barely nods in acknowledgement.

He stares for far too long. Hotch notices his hands clench into fists. He’s excited by the bodies.

“Yeah, I knew them.” He’s still looking at the pictures, “They were in two of my classes.” He finally looks up and gazes at you hungrily, “You seem awful young to be an FBI agent.”

You smile again and then look away, a sign of submission. “Stop flirting with my agent.” Hotch says placing his palms abruptly on the table. Jordan doesn’t flinch at Hotch’s presence, not taking his eyes off you. He’s more confident than either of you anticipated. Was the profile wrong or is this the wrong guy? “How did you know the victims?”

“I just told you, from class.”

“Did you ever see them outside of class?”

He shrugs, “I don’t know, maybe, to do a project, not in a while though.”

“Jordan, do you know if either of the girls had a boyfriend?”

“Boyfriend?” He frowns, “Those two? No.” He practically scoffs.

You tilt your head to the side, “Why do you say it like that?”

“Those girls aren’t the boyfriend type. They’re whores.” There’s the bitterness in his voice.

You try to make your face as empathetic as possible, “What do you mean by that, Jordan?”

“Well, you know, they slept around… Wouldn’t give a nice guy like me a chance. You must know their type, you’re the FBI.”

You nod, “It must be so hard for a handsome, smart guy like you to get rejected. I can’t imagine why anyone would dream of missing out on that,” You shake your head, “Their loss.”

Hotch audibly scoffs and you watch Jordan glare at him. He’s getting angry. Good. “Hotch, why don’t you go get Jordan a water?”

Hotch blinks at you, trying to figure out if you had really just given him an order, “Agent, I am the lead interrogator on this case, I’m not leaving you alone in here--”

“Agent Hotchner,” You turn in your seat to face him, hoping he’ll read your expression, “Please get the young man a water, he’s been in here for hours.”

His eyes search your face for a few moments and then he leaves the room without another word. He won’t be getting Jordan a water. You know he’s watching carefully from the other side of the glass. “Sorry about him.” You say, “He doesn’t understand men like you.”

“Men like me?”

“Men who know how to get what they want.”

His face transforms as he watches you and he leans back in his chair, relaxed, legs spread to assert his dominance. “And you understand that?”

“There’s nothing sexier than a man who goes after what he wants… No matter what.”

He leans forward and whispers, “Even when they beg me to stop?”

You swallow past your disgust and, though you hate to admit it, fear, “Did they beg you to stop? Victoria and Erica?”

His smile widens as he watches you, “You remind me so much of them.”

“Can you tell me what you did to them? How you killed them?”

He licks his lips now, you think he’s lost all sense of where he is, falling for the delusion you’ve set in front of him, “You’re just like them, a dirty little slut. You want to be punished, don’t you?”

“Please.” Is the last word you whisper before he practically jumps across the table to grab your throat. Your chair falls backwards and he’s on top of you, crushing your windpipe. How could you forget that he was uncuffed? Hotch rushes in, he yells as he pulls Jordan off you, but you’re not sure what he’s saying. Then he’s cuffed Jordan and taken you out of the room.

“Sit.” Aaron says, ushering you to a chair that you practically fall into. You’re still coughing and you’re shaking a bit as Aaron gives you a water.

“I forgot,” You start, your voice hoarse, but Hotch brings the water cup to your mouth, insisting you drink before talking. You take a couple swallows, “I forgot he wasn’t cuffed.”

He shakes his head, “It’s my fault, I shouldn’t have left you alone with him.”

“No, I needed you on the other side of the glass. He wouldn’t have fallen for the delusion otherwise. I needed him to forget who I was and just see me as a potential victim.” Aaron wouldn’t meet your eyes, not wanting to admit that you were right, “I’m going back in there.”

“No, you’re not, that’s out of the question.”

“Is that an order, sir?” He scans your face in frustration, “You know it has to be me. He won’t talk to you. I’ll be fine.”

He sighs and rubs a hand over his face, “Fine. Ask him about Erica, don’t ask about Victoria.”

“Why?”

“Because he didn’t kill Victoria himself, it’ll ruin the fantasy and he might lie to you to try to impress you. The details of the murders weren’t shared with the public, only the unsub would know how each of them died. He needs to reveal how he killed Erica to you and then we’ll have him.”

“Okay.” You stand and hold your hands behind you so he won’t see them shaking, but he’s a profiler. The attempt is mute.

He takes a step closer, “You don’t have to go back in there,” He says softly, “No one will think less of you.”

When he’s this close, looking at you with such concern, it makes you want to melt in his arms. But you had a job to do, “I can do this.”

And before he can make you think about it more, you turn away from him and march back in the interrogation room.

“Sorry about that,” You sit back down at the table and smile at him, “My partner gets a little jealous sometimes.” You lean in and whisper, “He’s usually the only one I let handle me like that.”

Just like that he’s back, “Why don’t you uncuff me so we can continue?”

You bite your lip, “I’d like to hear more about the other girls first.”

***

“Why is she in there by herself?” Rossi came up behind Aaron who was watching the unsub’s every move, ready to jump in again if needed.

“She insisted.” Hotch says simply, “She almost has him.”

Rossi sighs, “She’s stubborn. Like someone else I know.”

Hotch is quiet for a moment, “I can’t be with her, Rossi, it could ruin her career.”

“You can’t know that. And besides, don’t you think that should be her decision to make?”

Hotch doesn’t answer, he just continues watching you.

***

“Does it turn you on hearing what I’ve done to them?”

You’re sitting on your hands now, trying to stifle the growing panic in your head that was telling you to get out. He’s unarmed, he’s cuffed, Aaron is right there. He can’t hurt you. “You have no idea.” It came out breathless from your fear, but he interpreted it as desire.

“First, I knocked her out, tied her to the bed. Then I waited for her to wake up before I began. I stripped her clothes off her at that point and then I fucked her while she cried,” He’s smiling at you and you’re doing all you can to keep your expression neutral. “I took out the knife and started carving her up. You should have heard her beg. And then, when that’s all finished, I strangled her while I came inside her.” He leans over the table to get closer to you, and it takes everything in you not to move away, “Have you ever watched the light leave someone’s eyes, sweetheart?”

You calmly scoot your chair back and stand, buttoning your shirt back up and then resting your hand on your gun, reminding him of who you really are, “Thank you, Jordan. You’ve been incredibly helpful in this investigation.” And then turn to leave ignoring the way he calls after you.

When you exit the room, Aaron and Dave are both waiting for you and you sit down, exhausted, resting your head in your hands.

“Nice work, kid.” Dave says with a squeeze on your shoulder, and then he’s gone.

Then, there’s another touch on your back, more gentle and hesitant. You look up to see Aaron watching you, concern masking his face, “I’m fine, Hotch.” You say, shrugging him off.

His hand drops and you immediately regret it. “When you were taken those months ago, by that unsub…” His words are slow, as if making sure this is what he really wants to say to you. You know exactly what he’s going to say before he says it, “He raped you, didn’t he?” Your eyes snap up to meet his. “You would never tell us what actually happened, all those hours he had you, a sexual sadist.” He shakes his head, “There’s no way he would’ve been able to control himself.”

You shake your head just lightly, “I can’t do this now, Aaron.”

“Then when?” He’s frustrated now, borderline angry, “You lied at your psych eval, you said nothing happened, we let you come back after just a couple of weeks--”

“And I’m doing just fine, aren’t I?” You stand so you’re nearly eye level with him.

“You think I didn’t notice the way you almost fell apart in there?”

“But I didn’t. I finished it and I did a damn good job and you know it.”

Hotch erases all traces of emotion from his face as he stares you down, “You’re suspended for two weeks, effective immediately. Hand over your badge and gun, agent.”

You nearly stumble back from him as if you’ve been hit, “Aaron?”

“What’s going on?” Prentiss has entered the room now followed by the rest of the team, all watching with confused and worried expressions.

“You heard me.” Hotch says, never taking his eyes off you. You make no moves to take out your badge or gun, “Now, agent.” There’s bite to his words this time.

You feel humiliated. With the whole team watching, you place your gun and badge on the table and brush by Aaron without a second glance. Pushing past the team, even Spencer who reaches for you.

“What the hell was that, Hotch?” Derek says once you’ve left.

“She lied in order to pass her psych eval. I did what I had to do.” Everyone’s staring at him, but he walks by, seemingly unphased, “Good work, everyone. Get some rest, we go home tomorrow at first light.”

[friendlyfacesandstrangeplaces]

Apocalyptica

Hunter x Hunter AU

Chapter 1

The icy winds whipped Y/N’s hair back and forth. The ice pellets smacked their face like little needles. To top it all off they had lost all feeling in their extremities hours ago.

It was time to get out of this shit.

Y/N quickly scouted for some type of a shelter. A tree would’ve even worked- they just needed respite from the elements. As they trudged on, a wasteland appeared before them, covered by the haze of the snow. A bent and gnarled sign appeared, smothered in graffiti and stickers from before, warnings and messages from after, Meteor City.

Y/N picked up the pace,

A low growling could be heard to the left of them. Y/N made an executive decision to go right. The direction led them into the outskirts of the city. It appeared to be more beaten down than other cities they had come across on their journey. It must’ve been a derelict area even before. That meant most of the inhabitants hadn’t stood a chance,

“Fucking bummer,” they sighed.

When the shit had first hit the fan many of the rich and elite had been able to escape to safe houses and private islands. The have-nots were left to rot. It was a loss that went unnoticed and uncared for, but Y/N remembered it and contained rage in their heart for those lost. It was always this way- plenty of resources, help, and food for everyone, but it was hoarded away by those with status. The unfortunate were left to stare up at the planes, as they took those deemed worthy to safety. Left behind to live out the rest of their short lives in misery.

Y/N had lost all of their family within weeks. It happened fast- siblings became ill and passed within hours. Quickly turning into mindless drones with a taste for flesh. Inconsolable parents came to grieve and succumbed to the same fate. This left Y/N to carry on alone. This same road was travelled for years. At times companions would appear, but for the most part the journey was made alone. They preferred to be alone. You couldn’t lose someone if they never came into your life in the first place.

As they stumbled upon the decrepit buildings the wind began to blow more harshly than it had earlier. The door was stuck, but with a few determined shoves it slammed open. Y/N quickly scanned for bodies, dead or alive. The building was long uninhabited and it gave them peace. Quickly, the cabinets were scoured and yielded few treasures.

A pair of scissors, pack of gum and a drawer of old receipts,

“What the fuck am I supposed to do with this,” they questioned disappointedly.

A chill ran up their spine. The telltale sign that they were no longer alone.

“You could share the gum because Phinks’ breath smells like absolute shit,” a voice said from below.

“HEY! No it does not,” came a second disgruntled voice.

Y/N gasped and readied for a fight, but they couldn’t pinpoint where the voice was coming from. Nervous eyes flickered the entirety of the space in front of them,

“Ahem, down here,” a voice informed.

Peaking from a trick floorboard was a pair of emerald eyes. The softness behind those eyes almost relaxed Y/N, but this world was no place for blind faith or trust. If anything the best actors had been unearthed at the end of the world. Liars, thieves and worse, those who meant bodily harm. Shit, men couldn’t be trusted before, forget about now. Y/N’s grip on their knife handle tightened. This wasn’t their time to die.

Another voice sounded from behind. This one feminine and fiery,

“What the hell is taking you two so long. Is anyone up there are not?”

“Oh shut up, what are you my mommy?” the apparently foul breathed Phinks sassed.

“No, but your dada, Chrollo, was looking for you. Incompetent.” She retorted quickly.

“Goddamn,” Y/N sighed out.

The emerald eyed boy was jerked out of view and replaced in a flash with a pink haired person. She was stunning.

“Oh my god a real live person. Tell me this isn’t a joke.” She was the first person excited to see Y/N in years. It felt unsettling, but nice. Their guard was lowered- a mistake.

A growl came from behind the rickety wooden door. Before Y/N could even turn to brace themself a tall blonde figure jumped into view. Within seconds the creatures head had been bashed to a pulp under steel-toed boots. He scoffed and looked over in their direction gesturing to a few completely obliterated planks of wood,

“Are you coming or what,” Phinks questioned.

Y/N shrugged and stuck their hand out. In it was the pack of gum.

[moonbaby26]

Title: Diamond in the Rough

Pairing: Peter Maximoff x Reader

Summary: Continuation from last chapter. You and the others get some more down time in your last day and night on the ship together. Reader talks about some sensitive things with Peter, culminating in more bonding and fluff at the end.

Warnings: Some cursing, mentions of sex and arousal. Nothing explicit though.

Chapters: Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Taglist: @drikawinchester , @n0obmaster69 , @alexloveskili , @what-a-silver-lining , @bluesprings18 , @weakmoony-stuff , @slytherinsi-mp , @wintwrsoldiwr , @tommy-braccoli , @amourtentiaa , @cringingmemeries , @bi-panicatthe-disco , @himbos-are-my-lifeblood , @simp4mcuwomen

Peter Maximoff x Reader Masterlist

—————————

“So you really weren’t going to tell me that you just said ‘screw it, peace out, guys!’, and pulled the sacrifice card to throw yourself out of a plane?”

Peter’s voice carried through the barracks as he looked at you like you were the crazy one for once.

“Well...it was in the middle of crashing at the time.” You countered, much quieter by comparison and looking to Jean or Kurt for any help here. Some of you were sitting on the floor, others on the beds, roughly in a circle as you talked.

But Kurt only piped up to make it worse. “Yes, I did not like that at all. Next time we must find another way. I thought too that you’d chosen to go down with the plane so we could escape, (Y/N).”

“But you can fly right? None of us could fly.” Scott butted in a bit unexpectedly though, on your side of the argument no less.

“(Y/N) can levitate like me.” Jean corrected. “The flying is newer though, not yet perfected.” She smiled at you then in a way that told you she wasn’t about to let you back out of getting credit for that risk taken in Egypt. “You still hit the ground, hard.” She added. “I went back in your mind to make sure you’d made it after we teleported.”

The others all looked at you, and you tried not to lose your nerve. “My energy field was still up though when I hit. That’s the important part...”

“I mean I could jump off a building with a helmet on, I’m pretty sure it still wouldn’t work out for my head.” Peter retorted, though with a very self aware look before he finished. “And no, that’s not what’s wrong with me.”

Scott actually laughed at that, which surprised both you and Peter at least. Maybe he was different when alone with Jean, but in front of the group he’d stayed fairly no nonsense since Egypt. Though who could blame him for being a bit uptight after all he’d been through recently.

“We did all get pretty wrecked.” Peter admitted after a moment though. “Thanks for the save, Jean. Up top.” He held his hand up in front of her to signal for a high five.

She obliged, but a bit half heartedly. “I had the Professor in my head though, egging me on. He helped me unlock that. But I still couldn’t have done anything if you all hadn’t held that guy in place for that long for me. He just would have escaped.”

“I wonder what happened to the woman?” Kurt considered. “Do you think she learned her lesson too?”

“I doubt it,” Ororo answered then. “We called her Psylocke. But she just wanted to be more powerful. I don’t think she’d care now about who we hurt.” She looked at all of you at that. “I am sorry...if I hadn’t said well enough before. I thought he wanted to make the world better for us, but he didn’t. He really did just want to control everyone, human and mutant alike. I was wrong.”

Scott shrugged. “You figured it out by the time it really mattered.”

“And he probably just would have tried to kill you if you’d shown disloyalty any sooner than that,” You agreed.

“Can’t stay mad at anybody with a sick mohawk like that anyway.” Peter commented too, clearly admiring her hair.

Ororo chuckled. “If I’d known other mutants like you all before, things likely would have been a lot different.”

“Well you know us now.” Jean offered.

“Yes, I’m new here too,” Kurt added. “There’s a lot to learn. I’m glad Raven found me as well to bring me to the school. I never had mutant friends either in the circus.”

“Woah, wait. You were in a circus? Like the whole bit? Elephants and clowns and stuff?” Peter turned his head to look at him, curiosity easily peaked.

“Ja.” Kurt replied.

As those two went off into a separate conversation about whether or not there’d been bearded ladies, strong men, and the like in the Bavarian circus, you just looked back to Jean.

“We’ll definitely have a lot to catch up on when we get home. You think Jubilee is going to be mad that she missed all the action?” You asked, only half joking.

“Oh man,” Jean conceded. “She’ll be all over us wanting details.”

But her next words surprised you a little as her voice so easily transitioned just into your mind afterward for privacy, her lips no longer moving.

“You know as soon as she finds out you met someone, she’s going to go nuts wanting details about Peter.”

You could only look at her for a moment. It was such a strange thing to consider. This had all happened so fast. But with her bringing up that point, it was the first time you’d really thought about what it would be like to potentially introduce him to other friends of yours back home, to try and communicate what he meant to you already.

Could you call him your boyfriend? Would you say you were dating? He’d already called himself that label, but did that mean you could say it? Would the others even believe it was possible to feel these things for someone you’d only known such a short time? Would they think you were naive, or just caught up in the whirlwind of the moment and that this would all fade?

“Hey, relax. I wasn’t trying to send you into a tailspin.” Jean’s mental voice broke back through that wave of anxious thoughts. “I haven’t known Scott for very long either. If anyone wants to waste energy judging us, I would say that’s their problem.”

“Yeah,” You just answered then, remembering you still needed to respond in a way that made sense to the last thing she’d actually said out loud, about Jubilee. But you went quiet afterward, letting the others steer the conversation to new things as you all continued just trying to pass the time.

It wasn’t too very long later though when you’d had another visitor to the barracks. You were all a bit surprised to see Moira walk in, noticeably without the Professor and carrying something in her hands.

“Some new brass arrived today, or officials I mean. They wanted to speak to Charles themselves.” She said quickly, obviously realizing by your looks that you were all wondering the same thing of where he was. “But I wanted to come by and take care of this for the ones that needed pictures.”

As she spoke, she raised up the thing in her hands as if that should also be some clear explanation for her purpose here. It still took you a moment honestly to realize it for what it was, accompanied by what she’d said.

“For your licenses and passports that we’re printing.” She clarified anyway before continuing, the polaroid camera in her hands. “You two,” She pointed at you and Peter, and then at Raven. “And you. You already had valid driver’s licenses. We’ll reuse those photos for a new license and passport. Charles wanted everyone to have both, as you’ll still need to travel within the U.S. as well once we’re back. The rest of you I need current photos of.”

The thought of Peter actually taking the time to get a driver’s license seemed pretty absurd when he could travel anywhere much faster on foot, but before you could ask him anything, Hank was speaking up.

“But I already had a license and a passport,” Hank responded in some confusion.

Moira looked a little awkward, but still answered kindly. “But the pictures were of you before. It won’t match how you look right now for us to get back into the country.”

Raven snickered and Hank shot her an unamused look.

“Uh, but I can’t take off my glasses. You want me to take it with my eyes closed?” Scott asked dryly, though it was a legitimate question.

Belatedly you realized this also meant he’d been completely prepared to drive one of the Professor’s cars illegally then, before you’d asserted yourself to be the one to drive you all to the mall that day. This was a mental note you’d have to save for later.

“Glasses on is fine. We’ll note it as a medical exemption.” Moira answered easily, though already looking for a spot to have them stand against. “And this might actually be better to do in the hallway, if you could- Hey!” Her hands were abruptly empty, as she startled, then looking around.

You blinked after the flash that came almost simultaneously. A hand squeezed your shoulder before Peter pulled back away, the stolen camera in his other hand as the photo began to eject from it.

“I thought you couldn’t move like that with your leg,” Moira chided, now realizing what had happened. “And that thing isn’t mine to break, just so we’re clear.”

“You’re like three feet away, I don’t have to run if I can just lean over and grab it.” Peter responded smoothly, pulling the photo out before offering her back the camera. “So what, that thing is CIA issue? If I push the wrong button is it going to laser me or something?”

“No.” She huffed. But didn’t look as if she wished to extend the conversation any further to get drug into this right now. She just motioned for the others to follow her into the hall as she then turned away. “Come on, guys. We’ll try to make this quick.”

Peter didn’t seem to mind either way, just putting his attention back to the photo he was now holding as if it were a prize. “What do you think?” He asked you after a moment, the image becoming more and more visible as the film developed.

You saw yourself there, though surprisingly not a terrible image considering you hadn’t even been prepared. Your expression in the photo was simply neutral, glancing elsewhere even as Peter’s smile was wide and bright, him leaning in with his face almost touching yours in the photograph.

“I’ve taken worse,” you said truthfully, but then looked back to him, amused at his seeming satisfaction with it. You wondered if he was actually planning on keeping the photo, instead of it just being a little joke. Wouldn’t he rather a better one at least?

“What?” He questioned, seeing your expression. He flicked the photo gently. “It proves you’re real if anyone asks later.”

“Why would you have to prove...” But you ended up just smiling, and gave up before you even really started, seeing how happy he still looked. “If you want a picture together, I’m sure she’d let us take another if we asked. You know, if we asked nicely, and didn’t just steal her camera this time.”

“I like this one.” He insisted though, holding onto it regardless. “It really looks like you.”

“Um...wouldn’t I always look like me?” You asked quizzically.

“It’s real,” He tried to explain. “Natural? If we took another you’d just smile on purpose.”

You still didn’t fully understand. He was smiling in the picture after all. But to his point maybe, he did look almost giddy in the photo. Not something you would be able to replicate on command. “Okay.” You said, fine either way. “If you like that best.”

“There is something I think I’m going to ask Moira anyway though when she comes back,” He admitted.

It wasn’t very long either until you were able to find out what that was.

When the others did start to file back in after taking their pictures in the hallway, Moira had just leaned in the doorway briefly to thank them. “We’ll have these made up in time for tomorrow for your travel documents, thank you.”

She was already turning to leave again before Peter stopped her.

He cocked his head, piping up. “Hey, can I ask you something?”

She did pause, but her look back at him was slightly wary. Likely not knowing if this would be more humor or not. “Yes?”

He didn’t mess around though this time, just getting to the point outright. “Do you think you could send somebody to my Mom’s house? You know, just to say everything’s cool and I’ll be home soon? She’s probably losing her mind right now.”

Moira’s expression changed fully at that, empathy going to the forefront. “Of course. Yes. What’s her name? Her address?”

That mood faded just as quickly though as he raised his eyebrows, teasing. “Well shouldn’t the CIA know that?”

She sighed. Staring at him as the annoyed look returned.

“You’re so serious,” Peter smirked. “Magda Maximoff, suburbs outside D.C.” He rattled off a street address afterward, but still continued, “We’re in the phonebook anyway. Prof.’s been there too, he’d know.”

“We’ll look it up.” She agreed. “See you guys later.”

With that she was gone. The rest of you settled back, just sitting and talking again. And you’d gone off with Peter down by your beds after a while. Just the two of you again.

You’d realized obviously before now by their interactions that the Professor had met Peter at some point previous to his coming to the mansion the other day. But like so many things, in the rush of everything, you hadn’t learned much more.

“So Xavier’s been to your house. Was he trying to recruit you for the school?” You asked, honestly just curious. Though it was a little disappointing to consider you may have had a chance to meet Peter much sooner if he’d accepted any kind of invitation like that then.

You had been sitting on the bottom bunk together again, but he leaned back behind you now, stretching before putting his arms behind his head. He pulled his legs and cast awkwardly back up into the bed as you shifted to try and let him get how he wanted.

He looked pretty content though as he lowered an arm back to put it across your lap. “Well that was years ago. He had hair, he was walking. He didn’t want me for your little private school though. He just wanted me to help them spring my dad from the Pentagon...but I don’t think he knew it was my dad either then. It was all Logan’s plan to bring me. Really I didn’t find out much else. These dudes just showed up at my house, and I went with them to commit a felony.” He shrugged a little. “Probably not that smart, right? But I didn’t have anything else cool to do that day I guess.”

You wondered how much of that story Xavier would really tell you if you asked one day. You could only imagine what reasoning someone like the Professor would have to do something so brazen, even if it was to help Erik. Especially when Xavier had always preached to you all the importance of staying within the law and not using your powers to exploit any rules that would apply to non mutants. For now, you only asked a little bit more though. “How many people actually came to your house to do that then?”

“Oh, it was just three. Prof., Hank, and Logan.”

Well that made it even more interesting really. Hank was also so well known for always following the rules. But then again, he also was one of Xavier’s longest friends, like Raven and Erik. They’d all known each other since many years ago.

But this was the second time Peter had said this name of ‘Logan’. Shouldn’t you know that name? Well yes, you knew at least one. You couldn’t forget the name Jean had told you back in Stryker’s base. The man who’d gone on a rampage, though also cutting you violently from your own restraints before he’d escaped. Honestly you might even have scars from that when this was all said and done. But the name in and of itself wasn’t that unusual of a name. And what Peter was talking about apparently occurred years ago.

“I don’t think I know a Logan,” You said honestly. “Was he a mutant too?”

“Oh hell yeah,” Peter answered, raising up a closed fist. He made a noise, and a motion you didn’t understand as if he was doing something in midair with his fist, before adding. “Three big claws come shooting out this dude’s hand. It was so gross, but badass.”

You stared, the realization finally hitting hard. It couldn’t be a coincidence then. “Peter!” You exclaimed abruptly. There was just no way they were two different people. It was too unique of a mutation. “That’s the guy!”

“Huh?” He looked up at you in surprise. Confused at your sudden excitement.

“The one from the base! Didn’t Jean tell you?” Without thought, you lifted your shirt enough to show him those long claw marks still red across your stomach. They were dry now, already trying to heal. But it was three in a row, still clear as day. “The guy that tore through all those soldiers and freed me, she told me that his name was Logan.”

“She didn’t tell me that.” Peter stammered slightly, definitely caught off guard as you’d raised your shirt. “She just said to expect you to be bloody when I went looking for you.” He was staring at your exposed skin now though. “So Logan did that?”

You tensed slightly as you felt his fingertips graze your abdomen. It wasn’t unpleasant, just a bit unexpected. You lowered your shirt back down, but noticed obviously when he just let his hand stay under it.

When you didn’t show further aversion to the touch though, his hand continued idly wandering on the skin that was unbroken. “Well damn, that’s super screwed up then. I know they said a guy went full rage mode and tore the place up. And yeah, I saw the bodies he left when I went looking for you. But they didn’t say his name. I didn’t see him either before he took off.”

“It has to be the same person.” You reiterated. “But if you really want to be sure, you can always think of those memories of him, the Logan that you knew. If you let Jean look into your thoughts later, she could tell you for certain if it was him.

Peter looked a little disconcerted, but just agreed anyway. “Yeah, sure. I just, man how long did they have him there then? What a dick that Stryker guy was. Fuck him.”

But after the little bit of anger, he was only looking back at you. That thought of Stryker seeming to also remind him of your initial meeting with him. “How’s your ribs?”

You felt his fingers trail up across them at the question. “Sore,” You admitted. “But what isn’t?”

His voice was quieter then though, his hand moving back down before it reached your chest. “Then don’t jump out of any more planes please.”

You paused, wondering if he really was so bothered about that to have brought it up again. You’d all played so fast and loose that day though, doing whatever you felt you had to do. “It was a big day of firsts that’s for sure.”

“No kidding.” He agreed.

And nothing was ever going to be the same again was it? Even when you were all home again and the mansion was finally rebuilt. Were you all just going to go back to class like you hadn’t almost died? Would you just pretend that you didn’t know there were still entities out there that wanted you dissected, destroyed, or both?

“I think it gave the Professor a lot to think about too.” Is what you finally said. “I feel like he’s going to change some things going forward. But I don’t know how much yet. I don’t know if this could really mean the resurrection of the X-Men.” It was a crazy thought. Xavier and Hank never really liked to talk about that part of their past. They’d lost a lot then, or at least that’s always what you’d inferred from the bits and pieces you had heard over the years.

“X-Men...” Peter repeated, making a face like he wasn’t sure if it was a decent name or not. “Guess it’d still be better than being called Charlie X’s Angels or something like that.”

You smirked. “You know they used to all have codenames too.” Though you were sure not all of them were self named. “Xavier was just Professor X, Hank was Beast, Raven was Mystique, Scott’s brother Alex was Havok, your dad was Magneto of course. But there was Banshee, Darwin, and Tempest as well.”

He gave you a contemplative look. “Can I call you Lite-Brite then?”

Your look must have clearly said no, but he just kept going, very amused at your reaction.

“Glo-Worm?” He offered instead.

“Seriously? You’d name me after a bug?”

“Nah, they’ve got these super cute toy ones. Wanda had one. She slept with that thing all the time. They glow when you hug them.” He was grinning again now. “I mean, you’re comforting too right? Think I could make you glow?”

“I don’t think it works that way.” But honestly you might be lying to save face as he was now rubbing his hand further up into your shirt again.

“Don’t we all lose a little control when we get excited?” He countered, his tone getting a little more dangerous. “I know I do.”

You felt that statement was likely a bit of a trap, hesitating as your curiosity swelled. What could happen with his powers if he did have an uncontrolled moment like that? He was likely right though. Just like the onset of mutant powers came for most of you around the same time as puberty, they could also be triggered by intense emotions or stress. So it was reasonable to think that another powerful feeling such as arousal could also lead to some issues for those of you already less experienced in controlling yourselves.

“Brings a whole new meaning to safe sex doesn’t it?” He said as he let go of you then, putting his hands back behind his head. He still looked too amused, even though he seemed to sense when you needed another break from the touching to process your own thoughts.

“Did that happen with her?” You asked though. Not afraid, but yes, maybe some concern in your expression. You really hadn’t considered any of this before.

His smile faded at the unexpected mention of Crystal again. But he only hesitated a little, looking at you as he answered honestly. “Sometimes. She uh, burnt me a couple times. In the literal sense. She was like the band, Earth, Wind, and Fire. I mean she could control water too, but I liked the band joke better.” He frowned slightly. “She always hated that joke though.”

“Did you do anything to her?” You responded quietly before you could think better of it. Was this really any of your business? No, not really. But, it could be a part of your future.

There was a little surprise in his eyes, but his answer was immediate. “Babe, I’m the last person you’d ever have to be afraid of.” He looked bothered still as he continued though. “And no, I never hurt her. She would have knocked me into next week if I had.”

“So what does happen if you lose control that way?” You still asked, deciding you still did want to know.

He gave you an awkward look. But if he was going to offer out this information, it seemed there was going to at least be a small price for it. “If I’m really riled up? Turned on? You can say it outright you know.”

You weren’t going to say it in any more explicit way than that though, but you nodded at least. “Yes, you know what I mean.”

He sighed at your modesty, but reached out his hand after a moment. “Let me see your wrist then. Way easier just to show you.”

Well, if it was anything dangerous, he wouldn’t be so casual about it would he? You did offer him your wrist, not knowing what to expect as he clasped his hand around it.

You could tell he was focusing on something for just a moment, before the oddest sensation you’d ever felt shot from your wrist, down into your fingertips, and all the way up into your shoulder before you jerked your hand back in surprise.

Your reaction didn’t seem to faze him at all though as he’d easily let you go. It looked like you’d only done exactly as he expected. “You’ll still feel it for a bit after, just so you know.”

And you could still feel it, fading but definitely there as you flexed your fingers. “What did you do?” It wasn’t painful, but it was like a tingling, instantaneous whenever he’d done it. Not just through the skin, but into the bone, the muscle, everything. The only thing you could liken it to at all is when a limb woke up from being asleep, yet it wasn’t as uncomfortable as that and it was far deeper.

“Well you asked what happens if I get too excited. I, uh, vibrate?” He tried to call it something without really knowing what to call it. “I’m no science guy, but I’d guess it moves everything I’m touching down to what, the atoms right? So that’s what you’d feel. But it wouldn’t just be from my hand. I was doing it on purpose there. If it wasn’t on purpose it’d be literally all of me doing it.”

So that would mean, well...that would be a very intense sensation to say the least if you would happen to be having skin to skin contact in more places than one when he would accidentally do that. You tried not to let your expression change much at the realization. The last thing you wanted to do was to throw this very personal dialog further down into the gutter.

“I still think you’d glow though.” He added confidently. “And if your energy deal is always as warm as it was in that elevator shaft back at the base, I think it’d feel really good too. Just for the record.”

Yes, this was definitely teetering on that edge of going fully into a place you weren’t ready for just yet. But you only had yourself to blame. You asked him to elaborate, and he did. You knew your powers could be a lot more than harmless though. Much more than warmth. You didn’t know if it’d be too pessimistic to mention that right now though.

“I don’t know what I would do.” You finally said, just speaking the truth when you didn’t know what else to say.

“We can talk about something else you know if you want.” He poked you gently in the arm, seemingly offering you an escape route if you wished to take it. “Like we’re still going to the mall at some point right?”

“Definitely.” You answered gladly.

“You should come over too, play some video games when we get back. I’ve got an Atari and a Nintendo. Or we could watch a movie. You like Bruce Lee? Karate Kid? Stuff like that?”

The genuine eagerness emerging in his tone was something you really appreciated. A reminder that in reality, even though he evidently enjoyed any physical contact he was allowed to have with you, it was only a part of the whole picture. He just wanted to be around you too.

“Yes, I think that’d be awesome. I haven’t seen many of those movies, but usually Jubilee picks for movie night. Breakfast Club, Pretty in Pink, Sixteen Candles...over and over.”

He laughed. “Oh, no way. There’s more to life than Molly Ringwald. Time to expand your horizons!”

You were smiling too, about to say something back when Scott’s voice carried from further down the barracks.

“Hey, they brought dinner if either of you want to eat!”

“But is it even worth a crap!?” Peter called back immediately and just as loudly.

“Heck if I know!” Scott answered and you could swear you heard a lot less loud Jean tell him to quit yelling in her ear.

“I’m still salty about that fake strawberry garbage from earlier.” Peter said, just to you then as he sat back up.

It wasn’t much of a surprise to you though that the food would be brought to you all this time, considering the episode in the mess hall before. The only thing that did surprise you was that it would already be dinner time. Though it was hard to have much concept of time right now really, especially when there were no windows to see the sun or sky below deck.

But it did give it more of that prison feel too. The hours running together, locked away in close quarters, and now with government mandated food being dropped off impersonally. It either felt like prison or being in a rare species exhibit at the zoo.

“Well, you said you’re like a hummingbird metabolism wise, right? You have to eat something.” You spoke, while hanging back to give Peter a chance to get up on his crutches.

Really the hummingbird analogy you were liking more and more though as you personally thought they were adorable, and they literally were the bird equivalent to him in your opinion. This flamboyant little bird that beat its wings so fast it could actually hover in place or disappear in a blur once they did decide to take off. Not to mention the exclusive high sugar diet.

“Glo-Worm,” Was all he replied back, but very pleased when it still got a strong reaction from you.

“Please don’t make that one stick. It’s a lot less cute than Hummingbird.”

But he just offered a non-committal smile, walking past you. “We’ll see.”

——————————

Some few hours later, when it was time for lights out again, Peter had wanted to take a shower so you were already in the bottom bunk alone.

You tried to stay awake to wait for him, but you must have already been asleep for how bad you startled when you felt something pressing down against the mattress beside you.

And when you shot up, you were even more confused at the sudden pressure against the top of your head before you finally woke up enough to realize Peter now had his hand splayed there, pushing your head back a little.

“Woah,” He whispered in the dark. “You about nailed the top of the bunk. It’s just me.”

You relaxed, trying to look at him before you felt him let go, laying down beside you. As you laid down as well, he shifted several times, trying to get comfortable.

“I hate this damn cast.” He complained. “Do you know how weird it is to have to shower with a garbage bag tied around your leg?”

You could feel his still wet hair though on the pillow as he nuzzled in closer with you. You’d both joked a little earlier about looking forward to getting to share this bed one more time tonight before heading back to the U.S. and your sort of more normal lives tomorrow. The emphasis of the joking though had been about getting to continue the kissing that had been interrupted on the flight deck.

But now that you were here, you found you really just wanted to hold him and enjoy the warmth and quiet together. Because you didn’t know when this chance would come again. Would you go your separate ways tomorrow? You back to New York and wherever the other displaced students were now staying, and him back to D.C. to reunite with his mother? He wouldn’t be able to run and come to find you again until his cast was off. And how many weeks would that take, even with mutant healing factors?

You didn’t really know what the exact plan was after you’d arrive in the U.S. either, but maybe there was something you could do after all. “Hey.” You said quietly after a bit, hoping he was still awake.

“Mmm?” He made a questioning noise, hugging a bit tighter to you.

You took it as enough response to say that he was listening. “So they said that we’re landing in New Jersey tomorrow, right? Well everyone else is going to want to go north to get back to Salem Center, New York.” You didn’t really need to clarify where the school had been though, he’d obviously already found it. “But you’ll need to go south to get back to D.C., and it’s not like Xavier is going to expect you to find your own way home. Someone’s going to have to drive you and-”

But Peter didn’t even let you finish, already very on board with the idea. “And we give Prof. the old puppy eyes and beg for it to be you.” You knew he was grinning again then just by his tone. “I like it. Road trip.”

You felt relief that he approved of your spur of the moment plan, but then again he’d already said he wanted you to come over to his house sometime. You wouldn’t be able to stay very long you were sure, but at least you’d get the car ride together if this all worked out. And you’d get to see where he lived, maybe even hang out for a little while before having to drive back to New York.

It was funny how just like that you now had something to look forward to again. But would Xavier really be on board? Would he feel comfortable letting you drive back alone? You’d just have to convince him that you were old enough now and capable.

“I guess I should have cleaned my room a little better before I left.” Peter mused. “Can be a bit of a train wreck, just like the dude that lives in it.”

“Oh, someone else lives there too?” You teased slightly.

But Peter only played along. “Yeah, a real piece of work. Guy just plays video games all day, and wears out the same shitty records playing them over and over with the volume up. Maybe reads some comic books or jets off to nab some Twinkies from the convenience store down the block. Real outstanding citizen. I heard he’s dating now though. Who the hell would want that charity project?”

“Hmm.” You knew he was only half joking, Peter really still seeing himself in the way he just described to a large degree. But you were patient, and determined to keep working on building his self confidence little by little. “I think if he met someone then, it’d be someone who believes in the old ‘diamond in the rough’ expression. They must really just like him for him. They probably even see his real value even when he can’t yet.”

Peter was quiet for a few moments at that before you felt him run a hand through your hair. “I guess that would make him really lucky then. He probably should bust his ass to make sure he doesn’t disappoint them then and screw that one up.”

You smiled softly. “All he has to do is be himself. If you have to fight too hard just to maintain a relationship, it likely was never right to begin with.”

“Been there, done that.” He at least agreed, but was now running his fingers down along your face.

You knew what he was hoping for and leaned in to meet him as you kissed. It was very soft though, like he was still thinking of what you’d said. He didn’t press for much more either, just a few more kisses before he nuzzled his face back down against you.

“I’m still going to do the best I can.” He spoke quietly against your neck. “I want you to be happy.”

“I am.” You said. Feeling every bit of those words as you stayed warm against one another. It felt safe. It felt right.

And no one said anything else. You were both content to leave it that way, falling asleep just as you were.

———————————

(Continued in next chapter here)

[natromanxoff]

11 - Van Halen...

Hi there one and all.

Can I first start by saying farewell to Cozy. I've known him for about fifteen years and would not say he was a close friend or anything, but whenever we caught up with each other there was always time for a beer and chat. He was an A1 guy and will be greatly missed as a person and as a brilliant drummer. When John Bonham died he left the crown for the best rock drummer to Cozy, and I can't think of anyone worthy enough to take over. When Bonzo died we were doing a show at Madison Square Gardens, and as they were going into Champions Fred said, "This one's for John Bonham." The place erupted. If that's Bonzo's song, then I think Cozy should inherit We Will Rock You, because he was THE best rock drummer.

My social life has been quite hectic again. Caught up with Status Quo when they played here recently, they're always good fun to chat with, and they still put on a decent show. Next Sunday I'm gonna see Matchbox 20. Have a listen to their album, it's really good. Last night was the all new Van Halen, and thanks to my mate Nick I had one of those wonderful VIP passes hanging round my neck. I, along with the rest of the world was curious to know what Gary Cherone was going to be like. Brilliant. This has to be the best VH line up yet. The show was being filmed by MTV, so if you see it and the camera pans around to the sound desk, just look for the best looking guy in the building and that'll be me, standing next to him.

Anyway, back to VH. They are still a great rock band, a great live act and great musicians, and I still hate drum solo's. But back to Mr Cherone. We all know what he did at the Tribute, and we all know he's a huge Queen fan, and he's the closest singer to Freddie I've ever seen. His outfit, black satin shirt and flared black satin pants. I seem to remember FM wearing that around 75/76. His mic stand is the FM 'wand', except it's a lot longer. His movements are very theatrical, and dare I say camp at times, with lots of twists and turns, very Freddie. Don't get me wrong here, I'm not knocking him at all, he is an amazing showman and doesn't stop all night, even jumping into the crowd and running up the steps to the top of the arena, and then tumbling down like a stuntman. It's good rock 'n roll, so try and check them out, I don't think you'll regret it. (I've become concert reviewer all of a sudden) At times he even sounds like another singer, but I won't keep on, I'll leave it to somebody else. On the rock station, Triple M, one of the jocks this afternoon said, "He's been watching to many videos of our dear departed friend Freddie Mercury. His movements were exactly like his."

The first time I ever saw Van Halen was at a place called the Circus Krona(!) in good old Munich. I went along to see them with the curly one, and when we got there I had to instantly phone the studio and try and get Rog to come along because it was the biggest PA system I had ever seen in a place that size. When they started the intro tape it was so loud I thought my chest was gonna cave in, the bass just pinned you to your seat. Needless to say Brian was like a pig in shit. Before I tell you my little Queen story, I have to tell you about what I consider to be the best onstage patter I think I've ever heard. David Lee Roth was talking to the crowd between numbers and somebody in the crowd chucked a paper cup or something at him, he stopped talking, looked round in the general direction and said, "Hey man, you can throw what you like at me. Because tonight I'm going to f**k your chick." 20,000 people loved it, and so did I cause I still remember him saying it.

OK. We were touring the States, probably around 81/82, and we were flying to Portland. The band entourage were traveling on a wonderful private plane, and as the crew would have been in the bus for about 24 hrs we took as many as we could with us. The date was Sept.1, I remember because thats my birthday, and when we boarded the plane there was a huge cake with 'Happy Birthday Crystal' on it, and even more booze than we normally had. (Somebody must have expected something) One of the nice things about private planes is that you can make detours and the pilot flew around Mt St Helens a few times so we could see right into the crater, and it was still steaming, an amazing sight. Back to my birthday and a few of us needed some privacy, so Jim 'Mary' Devenney, Jimmy ' Idiot Boy' Barnett, Peter 'Feebie' Freestone, Roger '*******' Taylor and myself stocked up with a couple of drinks and retired to the Master Bedroom for a discussion on world politics. When the plane landed we were still a few thousand feet up in the air, legless is the best way to describe us. Hey, it was my birthday after all. We fell into the limo's and headed to the hotel, and the crew went on to theirs.

On arrival I found out that Van Halen were staying there, and they were playing that night, so I secured a few million passes and went looking for somebody to go partying with. After all it was 4pm and if I went to sleep I'd wake up feeling awful so I had to continue. RT said he was gonna crash, but Feebie and Terry were ready to go, so we said we would go to the first bar we came to. As it turned out it was a topless joint, and needless to say I was shocked and stunned, but a deals a deal. We were drinking shots of peppermint schnapps with vodka and orange chasers, very intelligent. At about 8pm we all shot off to watch VH, and they were great. After the show both bands arrange to meet in the bar at the hotel, but the bar is one of those stupid ones in the middle of the lobby. So there we are, the four Queenies, Feebie, Wally, Tunbrige, Terry and me, and the four Van Halens, all sitting around having a slurp, and VH's minders running around like headless chickens in the CIA. Outside the main doors were hundreds of fans, with a VH gorilla keeping them out, even to the point of stopping Ratty coming in. I had to argue with this moron to let one of our crew in, and he said, "If he goes anywhere near David or Eddie I'll throw him out." I could only answer with that wonderful two worded phrase starting and ending in F. Because it was like being in a fish bowl we decided to leave the bar, and everyone wandered off to various rooms to continue, the biggest bash being in Rogers suite.

At some unknown hour whilst I'm having a very pleasant conversation with a charming lady who called herself 'Naughty Nancy,' Jobby says to me, "I've been looking for you, Tunbridge wants you to call him now, it's urgent, Brians had an accident." Jobby was very drunk and I didn't know if he was serious or joking, so I phoned Tunbridges room and there was no reply. What do I do now? If Brians asleep and I wake him I'm in trouble, and if he has hurt himself and I don't call I'm still in trouble. What do I care? I'm drunk and fearless, so I phone and Tunbridge asks me to get there asap.

When I go in, Brians lying on the bed on his side, with the waste paper bin close at hand, and Tunbrige is grinning and mopping his brow with a damp cloth. Brian was mumbling stuff like "Don't let me die." (I'm sure most of us have been there at sometime or another) I probably shouldn't say this, but I had to grin, I thought it highly amusing. I got an explanation and told Tunbridge not to let him sleep on his back, and call me if there were anymore problems. I then returned to NN.

It turned out that when we all left the bar, Brian had gone to Eddie's room where they consumed huge quantities of Jack Daniels, and Brian not being a bourbon drinker, went to the toilet to worship the porcelain god, and threw up with such gusto he hit his head on the cistern, split his head open and nearly knocked himself out. The following night we played the same place VH did, and Mr May with band aid on head, played a blinder. A couple of years later, in the Rainbow in LA, I met Alex Van Halens estranged wife, and that, as they say, is another story all together.

Crystal

[just-dreaming-marvel]

Out Of Time ~ 111

MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 1,900ish

Summary: Captain America: Civil War (sorry if this chapter isn’t that dramatic.... I can promise the next one will be....

Notes: make sure that you have read chapter 110. That chapter didn’t have the taglist with it.

Steve and Sam eventually made it out with an unconscious Bucky in tow. Hidden in some abandoned building. Steve was watching through a gap at a chopper flying overhead.

“Hey, Cap!” Sam called. Steve went over to join his friend, who was near Bucky. Bucky was sitting with his arm in a vice.

“Steve,” Bucky said.

“Which Bucky am I talking to?” Steve asked.

“Your mom’s name was Sarah… You used to wear newspapers in your shoes.”

“Can’t read that in a museum.”

“Just like that, we’re suppose to be cool?” Sam questioned.

“What did I do?” Bucky asked.

“Enough.”

“Was Y/N…”

“The whispers is that you attacked her.”

“Oh, God, I knew this would happen. Everything HYDRA put inside me is still there. All he had to do was say the goddamn words.”

“Who was he?”

“I don’t know.”

“People are dead. The bombing, the setup. The doctor did all that just to get 10 minutes with you. I need you to do better than ‘I don't know.’”

“He wanted to know about Siberia. Where I was kept. He wanted to know exactly where.”

“Why would he need to know that?”

“Because I'm not the only Winter Soldier.”

~~~

Slowly blinking, Y/N let her eyes focus on her surroundings. She was on a plane. A Stark plane. She felt someone’s hand on hers. She looked over to see Tony’s hand on hers, head hung low.

“Where—“ She swallowed. “Where are we going?”

“Oh my—“ He quickly stood up and held a kiss to her forehead. “You… I can’t even… You shouldn’t have gone near him.”

“I had to try…”

“Doesn’t matter. His life is not worth yours.”

“Where are we headed?”

“Home.”

Y/N watched Tony for a second. “There’s something you aren’t telling me.” She sat up. “They got away, didn’t they? And you’re going to go after them.”

“I have to.”

“Please, Tony, stop this before it’s too late. Don’t wait until someone gets hurt and the team is completely destroyed.”

“I just doing what I have to do. And so should you.”

“What should I do?”

“Stay at home until this is all settled.”

“You’re going to keep me as a prisoner? Keep me locked away. You can’t to that.”

“That’s why I’m not telling you where I’m going. To keep you safe.”

“To keep me safe, or to keep me from protecting Steve and Bucky?”

“To keep you safe! Y/N, damn it! Look at your neck! Those bruises are in a literal shape of a hand! I don’t think they’ll disappear for weeks. Your precious Bucky did that to you, and I won’t let it happen again.”

“Tony, if you do something to harm them, either of them, I’ll never forgive you.”

“Tough sweetheart, because I’ll never forgive myself if you get hurt like that again.”

~~~

The compound was all but locked down. Vision and FRIDAY were both keeping an eye on both Y/N and Wanda. Y/N was worried about where Steve, Bucky, and Tony were, and if they were being stupid. Y/N and Wanda weren’t able to fall asleep, so they were in the kitchen. Vision was hovering in the corner, seemingly asleep, or as asleep as an android can be. 

Suddenly, the three were on alert. An explosion in the distance lit up the room for a moment. They hurried to the window to see another explosion near the fence line.

“What is it?” Wanda asked.

“Stay here, please,” Vision pled before disappearing.

Once Vision was gone the two women sensed a different presence behind them. Wanda compelled a knife to fly across the room. They turned to see it stop in front of Clint’s head and him flick it away.

“Guess I shoulda knocked,” he commented.

“Oh my god!” Wanda exclaimed. “What are you doing here?”

“Disappointing my kids.” He shot arrows to both sides of the room. “I’m supposed to go water skiing.”

“Clint,” Y/n called, the worry extremely evident. “What’s going on?”

“Cap needs our help,” he answered, grabbing Wanda’s hand. “Come on.” Wanda grabbed Y/N’s hand as they began to head out of the room.

“Clint!” Vision greeted, appearing through the wall behind them. “You should not be here.”

“Really?” Clint retorted, him and the others turning back around. “I retire for, what, like five minutes, and it all goes to shit.”

“Please consider the consequences of your actions.”

“Okay, they’re considered.” Suddenly, the arrows Clint previous shot, catch Vision in a force field. “Okay, we really gotta go.” Wanda stepped towards Vision as Clint grabbed Y/N’s hand. He began to led her to the door. They stopped when they noticed Wanda wasn’t moving. “It’s this way.��

“I’ve caused enough problems,” Wanda responded, nervously playing with her sleeves.

Leaving Y/N at the door, Clint jogged back over to Wanda. “You gotta help me, Wanda. Look, you wanna mope, can go to high school. You wanna make amends, you get off your ass. Shit.” 

Vision broke the force field with the Mind Stone. Quickly, he punched Clint to the floor, but Clint recovered. 

“I knew I should’ve stretched,” Clint groaned.

He extended a baton and tried to hit Vision but the blows went right through him. Clint resorted to punches before trying the baton again. It broke. Clint tried to kick Vision, but his leg wen right through him. Vision then quickly got Clint into a headlock.

“Clint, you van’t overpower me,” Vision warned.

“I know I can’t,” Clint responded. “But they can.” 

They look up to see Wanda and Y/N standing side by side, Wanda’s red glow between her hands. 

“Vision, that’s enough,” Wanda said. “Let him go. We’re leaving.”

“I can’t let you,” Vision replied.

Wanda held her hands apart, glowing with energy, forcing Clint to slip from Vision’s grasp. He grabbed Y/N and pulled her away as Wanda forced Vision to the ground.

“How far a long are you?” Clint whispered.

“What?” Y/N gasped, looking at Clint with surprise.

“My wife’s had three kids. I know the tells.”

“Five weeks.”

“Does anyone know?” Y/N shook her head. “Then you’re staying here. I’m not putting you or the baby in harms way. And I know Steve wouldn’t want that either.”

“No, I can—“

A crash is heard. They flinch as they turn to see that Wanda as forced Vision through several floors of the compound.

“If you stay here,” Clint turned back to Y/N, hands on her shoulders, “I won’t say a word. If you come or follow, I’ll tell everyone and they’ll force you to stay put anyway.”

~~~~

Vision disappeared out of the hole not long after Clint and Wanda had left. Y/N couldn’t stop worrying, pacing, rounding every inch of the compound. FRIDAY had blocked her from being able to contact any of her teammates or watch any news channels. It was late into the afternoon of the next day when she finally was contacted. She had just barely fallen asleep on the couch when FRIDAY announced the incoming call.

“Y/N?” Natasha panicked voice filled her room. She was immediately on alert. 

“Nat? Are you okay? What happened?”

“It got bad. There was a fight at the airport in Berlin. Sam, Clint, and Wanda are in jail. Bucky and Steve made it to the quinjet to go—I don’t even know where.”

“What? How did this happen?“

“And Rhodey was extremely hurt. Tony’s in the other room waiting for the results, but it doesn’t look good. I think he’ll go after them next. The only way to stop him is if you go with Bucky and Steve to wherever it is they’re headed. Tony will trust you if you’re with them.”

“Nat, I don’t—“

“I’m not asking you to pick a side. I’m asking you to save your family.” Y/N’s hand went straight to her stomach. “To save your child’s family.”

“How did you…”

“You were in the bathroom for way too long, Y/N. And I’ve noticed how your hand falls to your stomach. Do they know?”

“Only Clint and you.”

“You need to tell them before it’s too late.”

“I know… Thanks for the information, Nat. I’m assuming you helped them escape.”

“I did. Have to go on the run now.”

“Stay safe, Nat.”

“You too.”

The call ended and Y/N took a deep breath. Bucky and Steve had taken a quinjet from Berlin, the same quinjet Y/N had arrived there in. So she could create a portal there. It was just bracing herself for the inevitable vomiting that would follow. Opening the portal, she rushed through, stumbling into the quinjet.

“What the—“ Bucky immediately turned around, pointing a gun in Y/N’s direction. He lowered it when he saw her vomiting in the corner. “Y/N?” He hurried forward, kneeling beside her. “How did you— are you okay?”

“Y/N,” Steve rushed to her other side. A hand found the way to her back, gently rubbing up and down. “What’s going on?”

“I’m… I’m… fine…” she panted. She straightened up, wiping her mouth on her sleeve. “I’ll be fine.”

“Is there something going on with your powers?”

“I’m fine, Steve, really. How are you guys?”

“Really Y/N?” Bucky questioned. “You just appeared through a portal and began to vomit. I don’t think you’re okay.” As he looked her over, his eyes found their way to her neck. “No,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry.” His flesh hand came up, hesitant to touch the bruise. Y/N grabbed his hand and led it to her bruise. “I’m so sorry.”

“I’m fine, Buck. I’m okay.”

“I promised to never hurt you and I keep doing it. Leaving for war, falling into HYDRA’s hands, back in DC, now this…”

“Bucky,” Steve called, slowly, watching the interaction. “How much to you actually remember?”

“I remember Y/N the most. Not everything, but I remember the feelings when we were together the strongest.”

“You remember me the most?” Y/N repeated quietly.

“Something happened the moment we met eyes in DC. Things kept creeping back.”

“Oh, Buck.” Y/N quickly wrapped her arms around Bucky. “I’ve missed you so much.”

“I’ve missed you too, doll.”

“What are you doing here, Y/N?” Steve asked, again.

She pulled away from Bucky, so that she could see both men. “Nat called me and told me what happened. I came to help.”

“You know that you can’t go back after this, right?”

“I may be able to get us all home safety and talk everyone down. I just need to see this through to be able to explain it and help the cause.”

“I don’t know,” Bucky said, shaking his head. “I think you are safer staying in the quinjet.”

“Not a chance, Buck. If there’s a way I can bring you home, I’m going to do it.”

“I don’t think I’m worth all this.” He looked down into his lap.

Y/N guided her hand under Bucky’s chin, gently guided it up so that they were looking into each others eyes. “I think you’re worth it. I always have.”

next chapter >

NOTES: from now on the taglist when be added by a reblog. I will reblog it using my second account, @just-dreaming-marvel-2​​. Just so that my main page doesn’t get too cluttered.

If you want to be added to the tag list, please dm me or send in an ask.

[chiwhorei]

𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐢𝐭

cross-posted to Ao3!

pairing: issei “horse cock” matsukawa x fem!reader

genre: smut, 18+ mdni

word count: ~4.4k

tags: stripper!issei, stripper!seijoh, roommate!oikawa, tendoukawa (bc @heauxzenji said it an it’s now the only ship in my head) dry humping, lap dance, a little corruption, spitting, public, alcohol and recreational drug consumption (weed and coke), spanking, degradation, hardly edited

a/n: howdy! this is my contribution to the smut pile’s western collab and it is so incredibly late but what the hell else is new. the masterlist for the collab can be found here! @messwriting and myself, in true chaotic duo fashion, built an absolutely depraved multiverse of seijoh strippers: the lawbreakers. lee, i love you so much. this journey we’ve been on the past few months has been chaotic and beautiful, and there’s plenty more to come. 

the multiverse: hanamaki || iwaizumi || kyoutani

hymn: save a horse (ride a cowboy) by big & rich

and all the girls say— save a horse, ride a cowboy

A fog of smoke burns in your eyes. The room around you feels like it could curl in on itself, four walls marked sparsely with dusty furniture, the smell of weed and cash. 

You fix your gaze onto a long, diagonal tear in the leather couch across the must and g-strings, the rip in upholstery is stuffed with wrinkled one dollar bills. 

It feels like observing an exhibit at a museum, or a zoo. Lines of coke, random dustings of pot and discarded swisher tobacco, too many open handles of liquor. Sitting on an end table is a bright pink teddy bear with a cowboy hat on it’s head.

How the fuck did you get here?

***

You shift your weight on either foot, arches aching already. The pair of jeans and top you had planned on wearing tonight were all but ripped off of your body, casual boots thrown down the hallway with sadistic glee and replaced with heels that are taller and a dress much too short.

“Damnit, you’re walking too fast.” Your appointed captor turns around dramatically, stopping in his tracks to watch you catch up. The cigarette pressed into his mouth cards in two fingers and extended towards you as a peace offering. You take the half gone stick and bring it to your lips.

Tendou’s mission was simple, drag his boyfriends roommate and best friend-- possibly kicking and screaming-- out for a night she won’t soon forget. 

“Were those really necessary, Satori?” You point with the remnants of his cigarette and he feigns a kicked-puppy expression, looking down dramatically at his all black outfit contrasting drastically with a flashy pair of brownish-red cowboy boots. 

“I am being a supportive partner. Plus Tooru and I wear the same shoe size.” His hair is bright outlined by the neon sign above the building.

You inhale smoke and nicotine, eying him over once again before continuing. 

“Does it bother you when he’s dancing on all of those horny women?” The cigarette butt falls to the ground, you snuff it out while exhaling remnant smoke from your nose, the bachelorette party walking towards the door in a parade screaming emphasizes your question.

Tendou pulls you close, mouth pressing against your neck to bite against the skin. You jerk away from his embrace, with a feeble push against his chest to match the scoff scratching against your throat. The tall red head above you, currently leaned into the dip on your neck, always has an air of vulgar humor and zero personal space. 

“Watching my pretty little boyfriend grinding on women that would never stand a chance with him,” he pulls away just in time to catch another eye roll before grabbing your wrist to pull you inside, “I think it’s hot as fuck.” 

You stumble behind him, the doorman recognizing your friend immediately and lets the pair of you through tacky saloon doors. You catch a glimpse of the tattered sign standing right next to the entrance. 

Lawbreaker’s Presents: The Guys of the Wild West

The club is drastically warmer than outside, the chill in your barely covered limbs thaws in a mixture of stage lights and body heat.

 You sigh deeply as the sound of country music fills your ears, seemingly in rhythm with the squawking of drunken hens sipping on tall flutes of champagne. Thinking back briefly to when you first signed the lease with Oikawa, you remember he wore glasses and a sweater vest. 

He said he worked as a “fitness instructor.”

“Ah, my two favorite people in the whole world,” Tooru’s ears just have been burning at your recollection, as your roommate appears in front of you in nothing but white spandex shorts and a pair of shiny boots to match, a tray of drinks is placed to the side on an unoccupied table. The white cowboy hat on his head gleamed in the low light of the club, rhinestone star shimmers-- you want to shy away from the bright refraction hitting your eyes.

He looks in his element, completely confident and cocksure as he walks around in only underwear and body oil. 

“Aren’t you glad you came out tonight? I promise, you’re going to have a great time.” Oikawa melts into Tendou’s side, he looks just as content in the current atmosphere. Tendou seems at home in any ecosystem he wanders into.

“The show starts in 15, go get yourself a drink and try to pull the stick out of your ass. I’m going to, uhm, wish Tooru an extra special good luck.” 

“I really didn’t need to know that, thanks. Tooru, break a leg.” You turn around at the sight of the wandering, tattooed hand on it’s journey south on Oikawa’s abdomen and retreat to the bar. You aren’t shocked by the display, not hardly, not with the two of them using almost every surface in your apartment as a debauched playground.

The space around you is emptier than you imagined it would be, but there is still time before the night actually starts. The bartender approaches just as you sit down on one of the wooden stools, every fixture around you is designed to look like an old saloon-- save for the strobing lights and dj booth.

You order something strong and amber, partially to stay in-theme, partially for the nerves settled in your stomach that draft beer wouldn’t be able to curb.

The woman smiles brightly and turns to pour your liquor, leaving you to pick at a cocktail napkin and await your friend’s return.

“You’re Shittykawa’s roommate.” A stranger's voice is deep and bellowing, sounding high above your ear. You swivel in your seat, gaze meeting a tanned chest instead of a set of eyes. Trailing upwards past thick black tattoos and an unavoidable pair of silver nipple rings.

You can feel the muscles in the back of your neck as they strain to meet his chocolate brown stare, he looks amused as you all but gawk at him.

“Yes, uh, I am. And you’re, uhm--” the train of thought you try to hang onto derailed completely by a devastating smile, “one of Tooru’s co-workers?”

If his smile wasn’t enough, his laugh could level the building around you. Your new friend taps the black Stetson against the bar top before putting it back on his head. He gestures broadly to his attire, or lack thereof, with another disarming and smooth chuckle. 

“What gave that one away, darlin’?” You realize how stupid your question sounded, mentally kicking yourself but trying desperately not to show it on your face.

Long, thick legs are wrapped in a pair of leather chaps, the tight fabric hides nothing even if it covers most of his lower half. A matching vest hangs open on his chest, the muscles in his arms look bigger than your head. He seems huge in presence and physique, your own form is a shrinking violet below him.

“Your drink, dear. Double Jack n’ Coke.” The bartender slides a glass towards you, and you accept it with a gracious smile. The distraction is definitely appreciated, any excuse to break the eye contact that has you dissolving like lye.

“Jack n’ Coke, a gal after my own heart.” You choke, a coupling of small coughs break out of your chest. You curse your bodies reaction, you don’t even know--

“You’re name, uh, w-what’s your name.” Casual conversation seems like the best option, because it’s only been two minutes with the almost-naked Casanova and there’s a gnawing feeling that you don’t want him to walk away.

You blame it on the alcohol not yet even running through your veins. 

“Call me anything you want, pretty girl, but my name’s Issei.”

A smile creeps from one end of your mouth to the other. His presence is jarring to say the least, but there’s something about the way his teeth peek out past curled lips that makes you want to lean in instead of away.

Tendou calls your name, effectively pulling you out of Issei’s orbit and reminding you where you are. Heat flushes in waves on your face as Tendou wraps his long arms around your shoulders from behind. Acknowledging your new friend with a pointed, “Howdy partner,” before turning to order his own drink.

“Something sweet please, and strong.” You hear his voice singing to the bartender but still face Issei, having his attention is more intoxicating than whiskey. You want him to talk to you, to ask you questions, to grace you with that smile over again.

You feel the ability to breathe escaping when Issei leans into you impossibly close, his hand enclosing around your back and pulling you in so slightly you could swear you imagined it.

“It was nice to meet you. Make sure I hear ya’ out there, darlin.”

You’re left almost falling from the bar stool, watching as Issei strides toward the back. The way his hips sway is unfair in every--

“Hey,” Tendou’s fingers come up to snap in front of your face, “Didya hear me? Let’s go take our seats.” 

That’s right; you feel like you’ve just run a marathon, heart beating erratically at the briefest interaction, your night hasn’t even started yet. 

You’re dragged directly towards the front of the stage and sat in a small two person table. You agreed to the night out between gritted teeth, hauled to the uber with absolute defiance; but most of your protest has fizzled away-- definitely not due to a pair of deep brown eyes and planes of perfectly tanned skin-- as you get comfortable next to the boisterous bridal party. You can hear their idle, drunken chatter at your back. 

“I heard they call one of the dancers ‘Mad Dog’. Apparently he’s totally feral.”

“One of them is nicknamed the ‘Big Tease’, he really likes the pretty little brides~” 

“Oh yeah? Well there’s one dancer called ‘Horse Cock’. I’m going to go home with him.” 

The women behind you howl with laughter, enjoying their friend’s last night of freedom. The straw in your drink twirls idly, thoughts drifting with each turn of the plastic against your liquor. Surely, Issei had just intended a friendly introduction, he wouldn’t be raking in tips by being unapproachable.

Friendly, you decide, repeating it to yourself until the lights drop and a black curtain is pulled up, he was just being nice. 

* * *

The show starts out mostly how you would expect. Through a few sets, toned, beautiful guys take their clothes off and fling articles at the screaming, panting crowd. The table next to you gets the most attention, bridal parties, you assume, would be the prized cash cow.

Oikawa comes out in the most obnoxious, white and teal outfit and strips into nothing but a thong and boots. Every inch of his skin sparkles, the cause becoming obvious when he jumps down to the audience and swivels his hips and ass right into your lap. Your hand comes up to his hip reflexively to brace yourself-- of course, body glitter.

You watch on at the sweaty writhing of the most beautiful men you have ever seen in real life. The atmosphere around you is absolutely contagious, it’s impossible not to fall into the rhythm, losing inhibitions with every stray piece of fabric as it’s tossed into the sea of women.

Just as you lean over to Tendou to admit that you’re enjoying yourself, the next song blasts loudly from the speakers. The beat vibrates your table, soaking into every nerve, but is almost drowned out completely by the shrieking from every patron around you. They must know what’s coming. 

 Looking back up front, you realize why the crowd is losing their minds. The man that commanded your attention at the bar is even more alluring now. His strut to center stage is deliberate, flashing smiles and winks to no one in particular and hypnotizing every person in his reach.

Issei is stunning in his element, soaking in the reaction with a humble tip of his hat. You could swear, though you’re sure that it’s just your imagination, that he’s looking right at you.

His performance starts out like the rest of them, but each movement of his tattooed hands as they travel over his chest is spellbinding. 

Issei discards his leather vest and tosses it to the side, it feels like you’re watching him in slow motion. He’s gorgeous, skin tanned and tight over thick muscle, arms wrapped in black ink and shining with sweat.

His chaps are next, ripped from his legs just as music behind him picks up. The wedding party next to you so loud you swear the laundromat next door can hear.

 All that’s left is a thong that’s barely covering his cock. You try desperately not to, but all your eyes can focus on is the bulge under a tiny piece of black leather. Your thighs rub together in search of any relief to the feeling growing hot and slick in your stomach.

He moves like liquid platinum, every long, deliberate swivel of his hips and overt palming over his crotch is enough to cause delirium. He soaks in every whistle and shriek of his name, vibrating on the high of squelching attention. 

Issei is a natural. He’s a wild animal, and, along with every other woman there, you wish he would tear you apart with his canines. 

He descends the short staircase with a quick stomp of his boots, now making rounds through the crowd. He stops in front of tables at random, invading the space between strangers and collecting wrinkled one dollar bills.

Why does something so blatantly performative feel voyeurous?

All you can do is gawk, ignoring how every time another woman’s hand runs down his abdomen you heat with envy. As he turns away from the bridal party neighboring you, your blood turns ice cold.

Issei has you, unmistakably, in his sights. His eyes pin you, holding you down tightly in your chair as he struts forward. Tendou whistles loudly as the brunette approaches your table. You wonder, in your last moment of cognizance, if Saroti and Tooru had planned your evening in more detail that you originally thought.

“Long time no see, darlin’,” Issei stands over you, and all you can do is stare dumbly up at him, “do ya trust me?” 

You don’t answer, not with words, not like he would even hear your quiver over Big & Rich booming through the speakers. His question is stupid, to trust someone you just met so vaguely?

You do. Against any better judgement, you do. 

He doesn't give you the chance to ask what he means, stuck in the gooey feeling of his attention. Issei reaches behind you, picking up your half empty glass. He swirls the drink with an almost evil smile before bringing it up to his lips and draining the last bits of whiskey and coke. 

Your face reads confused, not putting his intentions together until you feel his thumb pressed against your chin. Issei’s eyebrow quirks, eyes trained on your reaction. You’re options are to shy away, turning back in your seat, running for escape in the bathroom, or--

The gloss on your mouth is sticky as your lips part in obedience. Issei tries to hide his elation, but it’s difficult to remain aloof as your tongue lulls out and your eyes beg him.

Issei’s hold on your chin tightens, nudging you to lean in so he’s only inches away. Your eyes shut lightly, the shouting surrounding you sounds little more than a whisper with the blood rushing in your ears.

You swear you can hear him groan above you as the sharp taste of liquor hits your tongue. Willing your body to cooperate, you swallow the drink with only a small cough. 

His face dips down, it seems like a habit now, to brush his promises against the shell of your ear once again.

“You’re an agreeable little thing, I think you can take it.”

His hands are on either side of your chair in a flash, lifting you up with trained, bulging muscles. You fall forward in your seat, bracing against Issei’s chest. Every cell in your body is tight with tension, if you lift your head up to meet the audience’s eyes, you’re sure you’ll crack like glass.

He steals you from relative comfort, shifting your weight in his arms as he ascends back onto stage. You’ve gone limp in his hold, pliant to his will. The unfamiliar presence at a dusty bar top has turned into more than a front row seat to depravity.

You’re thrown off balance as he sets you down, eyes adjusting to the white hot stage lights. You’re exposed to every set of eyes in the building, even if you can’t see him-- you know Satori is smiling from one sharp cheek to the other. Wherever Tooru is, he’s most likely sitting in the same satisfaction.

Aren’t you glad you came out tonight? I promise, you’re going to have a great time.

Issei rounds the back of your chair so his actions are hidden from your view. The brim of a leather cowboy hat breaches your field of vision, much too big for your head.

His hands come down onto your shoulders, snaking down your bare arms. His touch leaves a scorching fleet of chills. Issei runs his finger tips upwards, tracing against your collarbone before wrapping his grip lightly around your neck. 

He can feel it, he has to, the racing pulse right under the surface of your skin.

The music transitions effortlessly, going almost unnoticed. The next song, still sharp with a cheesy country twang, is slower, deeper.

Issei’s thumb brushes against your cheek, your body wants to relax into the touch before it remembers how public the gesture is.

You hold in a shaky breath as he comes to stand in your eyeline again, you might as well be bound to your chair with rope. He looks larger than life-- in both stature and presence-- in front of you. His skin is glistening, refracting from the harsh lights with sweat and oil. 

He is an unstoppable force against your will. Your desire to hide from the blinding attention is nothing compared to the desire to please. To please a stranger, to please the man you met only an hour ago. 

To please Issei.

He flashes you another wink, taking a moment to rake his stair down your body. He memorizes the outline of your cute little dress, red is definitely your color. 

Issei slides across the smooth surface of the stage to meet where you’re perched. The barreling, almost naked body now impossibly close to where your knees are pressed together.

He starts at your ankles, tracing the soft skin of your legs until his palms press flatly against your lower thigh. Issei savors the moment for a beat longer before prying your legs apart.

The crowd below you is loud and hollow in your ears, the shame bubbling up against your cheeks and nose is nothing compared to the pressure between your legs. 

Issei’s hands wander up and under the hem of your skirt, scratching his nails on the vulnerable skin before they find his prize in the form of thin lace.

The “Wait” and “Stop” sitting on your lips shrivels up and dies as your panties are ripped off. You see the bright color, the last remnants of opposition twirling around his pointer and middle finger.

The crowd goes wild, watching as your body is made a fantasy that they can all live vicariously by. all you can do is watch as the fabric is stuffed into the side of his thong to accompany fistfuls of singles.

* * *

You’re still in shock by the final dance, still under a trance as Tendou pulls you towards the back. Stumbling behind him to catch up, you’re given no time to think about what you’re about to walk into. 

A fog of smoke burns in your eyes. The room around you feels like it could curl in on itself, four walls marked sparsely with dusty furniture, the smell of weed and cash. 

You fix your gaze onto a long, diagonal tear in the leather couch across the must and g-strings, the rip in upholstery is stuffed with wrinkled one dollar bills. 

It feels like observing an exhibit at a museum, or a zoo. Lines of coke, random dustings of pot and discarded swisher tobacco, too many open handles of liquor. Sitting on an end table is a bright pink teddy bear with a cowboy hat on it’s head--

“I didn’t go too far did I?” Snapping back into reality, you hear Issei call to you. You’re vaguely comforted by a familiar voice before remembering the man attached had spat whiskey into your mouth and stolen your panties just 30 minutes prior. You heat up at the tips of your ears at the recollection of two things you had let him do, that you had wanted him to do. 

Your eyes find Issei sitting on the couch on the opposite end of your freshly showered roommate, seemingly unbothered as Tendou flops down against the middle cushion and drapes both arms across the back. 

“Don’t worry partner, our girl doesn’t startle easy.” Oikawa laughs, adjusting to sit across his boyfriend’s lap.  Issei’s all leather outfit is replaced with a pair of grey sweats. He looks relaxed, effortlessly handsome. 

What was it like, you wonder, before you knew how it felt to look at him? Life past the single night feels grey around the edges. 

When was the last time you felt this alive? 

He takes a sip of a water bottle, wiping off his chin with the large rose tattooed on his hand. You can’t stop staring at them-- the ones that roamed your body in front of a club full of drunk bachelorettes, the ones that traced your skin like he already had the map. 

And now you watch those same hands, so new but so inviting, as two fingers curl inward. They pull you as if tightening a rope around your waist. You wade past tall sweaty men and freshly caught audience members as they tangle across dusty furniture.

You scoot by your best friends from where they sit next to Issei, ignoring the slap to your ass and the following laugh from Oikawa in between loud, sloshing kisses.

“Well, little one,” He pats his thigh, inviting you to the spot on his lap rather than the empty seat next to him, “you’re not gonna run away are ya?” 

Every nerve in your body is twitching, you’re not sure if you could run if you wanted to.

You don’t.

Issei takes in your small nod of confirmation, pulling you into his hold. The position is awkward at first, perching on his knee as you try to keep your balance. He laughs, his arm snaking around your back so you relax into him. You fidget with your fingers as they lie against your lap, watching the bustling around you. A cloud of smoke settles in the air, you wonder if it’s a permanent haze of tobacco and pot-- the scent is probably painted into the walls. 

“Is this what you expected?” Issei’s voice is low and close to your ear, you can feel the smile curled into his question. Your eyes are fixed forward, watching as Tendou pours a small white line into Oikawa’s collarbone and dives in nose first.

“Honestly,” you adjust, kicking your legs up over his other knee, “I’m pretty used to this kind of stuff.”

Even if your usual scene doesn't include a drug filled almost-orgy, you can’t say you’re fazed much. Not with the company you keep.

Even with the circus revolving around you, Issei is the only thing you can see. Everything else falls away but the smell of his body wash and the soft material of his sweats where they meet your naked legs.

His hand rests against your thigh, fingers just above then short hem of your party dress. The metal rings on each digit are cool against your burning skin. You’re sure Issei can feel the heat rising in your stomach as it spreads through your blood. 

You feel him lean back, fishing something out of his pocket to set in your hands. You feel every hair stand on edge as the thin cotton drops into your grip, heavy as an anchor.

“You know what I think, darlin’?” Your breath hitches, the room around you squeezing tight against your shoulders, “I think you’re a natural on stage. I bet you would have let me do anything up there.” 

A hand wanders down the path of your spine, rough fingerprints stroke past each vertebrae. You arch at the feeling, his skin is like a narcotic. The liquor still swimming in your mind is no match to this, to the heady smell of sex and sweat as it cuts through your senses. 

Issei’s right, you’ll let him do anything to you. You’ll beg for it like you’re trying to pass the gates of heaven.

Your body moves of its own volition, legs swinging to straddle his waist. The material of your dress bunches over the curve of your ass, completely exposed to the room around you before being eclipsed by steady palms.

You would be, should be, embarrassed by the display of public depravity. No one around seems to notice, half naked is still more modest than most everyone else. Tendou and Oikawa have dissolved into a pile of spit and clashing teeth next to you, saving you from any snide quips. There’s nothing but Issei, face an inch away from you and lips tempting you to lean forward.

“Would it make you feel better if I told you I don’t usually do this?” 

Glassy eyes flick dumbly at the man below you. He sees the wobble of your lip, the glaze in your stare as you memorize every feature on his face. Any reassurance sitting on his tongue dies when you crash your lips against his, hips rolling down into him and knocking him off guard.

Your kiss is searing and drips with finality. You’ve decided what bed you’ll wake up in the morning with your tongue tracing against his molars.

“No, not really.” Foreheads pressed together, it’s your turn to laugh. If you’re honest, you probably made this decision while still sitting at the bar.

You dip back in, emboldened with the bruising fingers digging against the fat of your hips. The feeling of your cunt pressed against his crotch could bring a man to his knees.

He’s not opposed, he’s just gotta get you home first.

all writing is dymphnasprose’s original content, please do not repost or modify. do no read my content as asmr.©️

[grailfinders]

Fate and Phantasms #192

Today on Fate and Phantasms we're building the enchanting Caster of Okeanos, which despite her name doesn't actually show up in Okeanos, but rather the fourth pseudosingularity, Salem. She's also one of the last servants in the game (so far) to have her true name hidden, so pretty soon I can stop pointing out how her character build below the cut has true name spoilers. Specifically, this build also includes spoilers for the Salem pseudosingularity, so read at your own peril.

If you'd rather just check out her character sheet, you can find that over here.

Next up: The equal to the Great Sage Equal to Heaven, so just, equal to heaven, I guess.

Circe is a Transmutation Wizard, because she is a witch, and Transmutation is where they stuck polymorph.

Race and Background

Like her protege, Circe is an Elf, but if we want kindasorta falcon wings, that might be tricky. Just kidding, for some reason WotC thought winged elves were a priority, so we got Avariel Elves from an unearthed arcana. This means you only get +2 to a single stat, but we can make that Intelligence thanks to Tasha's for a brain blast. Your subrace gives you 30' of flying speed as long as you don't wear medium or heavy armor (not an issue), as well as the standard elf kit: Darkvision, Fey Ancestry to protect against charms, Trances instead of sleep, and proficiency in Perception thanks to your Keen Senses.

Circe lives on her island alone (if you don't count pigs) so that makes her a Hermit, privy to the secrets of the universe as well as Medicine and replacing the other proficiency (which we'll get back as a class proficiency) with Deception. Tricking men into turning into pigs is kind of a hobby for you.

Ability Scores

Your strongest score should go into Intelligence, that's how you cast spells, and also you're clearly more intelligent than the men who show up on your island. Speaking of, Charisma is next- you're a witch in the middle of a witch hunt that somehow never got caught, and there's also that whole Pig Island thing. Your Dexterity is also pretty good, it's hard enough to cast spells while walking, let alone flying. Also those heels, oh my fucking god how have you not broken an ankle yet. Your Constitution is above average mostly because I'd feel bad putting it any lower. That means your Wisdom is pretty low. You publicly introduce yourself as a witch in the middle of the Salem Witch Trials, and you're pretty flighty in general. Finally, dump Strength. You're a wizard, and you're clearly not that buff.

Class Levels

Circe is a wizard, meaning she starts off with proficiency in Intelligence and Wisdom saves, as well as Arcana and Religion. When you worship the goddess of magic, there isn't much of a difference, tbh. Speaking of magic, you can cast and prepare Spells using your Intelligence. Your spell slots normally only recharge on long rests, but once per long rest you can get a couple slots back on a short rest thanks to your Arcane Recovery, giving you back slots of a total level equal to half your wizard level rounded up. So when you hit level three, you can get back one 2nd level slot, or two 1st level slots. The thing about wizard is, they get a lot of spells. Six now, and two each level, plus whatever they can scavenge from other wizards. Since Circe's whole power set is "good at magic", there really isn't a set of spells that fit- any spell you could cast would be applicable. So rather than try to boil it down myself, we're just giving a rough guide here. There's a whole ass list on the character sheet, and we'll bring up the super important ones here, but really there's three qualifications: if a spell fits into one of these categories, Circe would probably have it. 1. Is it useful? The most open-ended, but just fill in spaces left by the other 2 with spells you want. I'm not a goddamn baby sitter, pick spells you like. 2. Can it turn one thing into another? Men to pigs, You into Medea, whatever kykeon is made out of into kykeon, this one's pretty easy to spot. 3. Can it help someone sail a ship? A bit specific, but helping the sailors she doesn't turn into pigs is also Circe's thing. Skill empowerment, weather control, that kind of thing. With all that out of the way, the big spells you'll probably want at first level are Mage Armor for not dying, Magic Missile for caster balls, and Sleep to knock out the sailors while you go around turning them to pigs. True Polymorph takes an hour per sailor and you need to recharge with a long rest, so this’ll take a while.

At second level, you become a Transmutation Savant, giving you all sorts of bonuses, like how copying transmutation spells into your book is cheaper and faster now. You can also make Minor Alchemy, turning 1 cubic foot of wood, stone, iron, copper, or silver, into another material on that list over the course of 10 minutes. You're not strong enough to shatter wooden chains either, but hopefully someone on your team is. This transformation lasts up to an hour or until you lose concentration, then it turns back to its regular form.

Third level wizards get Cantrip Formulas, letting you swap out one cantrip you know with a cantrip you don't know at the end of a long rest. You also get second level spells, like Alter Self to turn into Medea (among other benefits), and Gust of Wind to help out with sailing.

Use your first Ability Score Improvement to get a Keen Mind- always knowing which way you're facing and the angle the sun should be at are both really useful on the open sea. It also rounds up your Intelligence for stronger spells, and you can make your DM's life hell by remembering things up to a month after they happened.

Fifth level wizards get third level spells. Feign Death will help fake Mata Hari’s hanging later on, and Bestow Curse is super useful, since it can give a creature disadvantage on one kind of save. Like, say, wisdom saves. I wonder if there's a spell you like that requires a wisdom save coming up?

Sixth level transmutation wizards can create a Transmuter's Stone, a tiny object that gives its holder one of several benefits. When you make the stone, and if you're holding it while casting a transmutation spell, you can choose its beneft from the following: Darkvision, increased speed, proficiency in constitution saves, or resistance to one of acid, cold, fire, lightning, or thunder. You can only make one at a time after 8 hours of work, so don't try to stack them.

Seventh level wizards get fourth level spells, and you could get polymorph now if you really want, but you can also get that spell later for free, so if you're patient, you can get another spell now. If you do go for polymorph, it forces a wisdom save on a creature, and if they fail the save or they're willing, you can turn one creature into a beast with a CR equal to or less than the target's CR or level. All of the creature's stats are replaced by the new creature's, outside of alignment and personality. If it drops to 0 HP in this form, and hour passes, or you drop concentration, they turn back to normal. You can also cast other fourth level spells, like Control Water for sailing, Fabricate to turn... barley, just looked it up, into kykeon. Or any raw materials into a finished product that is Large or smaller.

At eighth level, you get another ASI that'll let you max out your Intelligence for super strong spells. That, plus your curses, will make your polymorph super hard to resist. When you get it.

Ninth level wizards get fifth level spells, like Control Winds and Skill Empowerment, as well as Scrying.

A tenth level transmuter is a Shapechanger, giving you the polymorph spell for free. You can also cast it on yourself once per short rest for free, but only if you turn into something CR 1 or lower. Sadly Medea isn't a beast or CR 1, but it doesn't hurt to practice. Also, yeah! You can now turn pretty much anyone into a Pig (CR 0, so there’s no excuse) or if you want to weaponize it, a Giant Boar (CR 2). Just promise to turn them back if they do your bidding. Still only lasts an hour, but they don’t have to know that.

Eleventh level wizards get sixth level spells. There really isn’t anything specifically Circe-like I want at this level, so just grab whatever your heart wants. There will be time for specifics later.

At twelfth level you get another ASI, and since your intelligence is maxed out we can diversify. Grab the War Caster feat for advantage on concentration saves (very good for pigmaking), the ability to cast spells with your hands full (not applicable), and best of all, you can cast spells as opportunity attacks if that spell as an action casting time and targets a creature. Oh hey, guess what spell fits that description?

Thirteenth level casters get seventh level spells! Again, not necessarily anything you need from here, but Plane Shift is always cool. Maybe you can stumble onto the pig dimension or something.

Your last goody from the transmutation specialty is to become a Master Transmuter, burning your transmuter stone in one go for a burst of magical power. Afterwards, you can’t make a new one until you take a long rest. You can use this for a Major Transformation, permanently changing a medium or smaller nonmagical object into another of similar size & mass (you also can’t cheese value out of this) over the course of 10 minutes. Alternatively, you make a Panacea, removing all curses, diseases, and poisons from a single creature, while also healing it back to full health. That’s some good eating. Going even further, you can Restore Life to cast Raise Dead without a spell slot. Death is a pretty hard line in the Nasuverse, but if anyone could do it it’d probably be Circe. Finally, you can Restore Youth to reduce a creature’s age by 3d10 years without extending their lifespan. You’ve clearly used that on yourself a couple times, but I can’t blame you.

Fifteenth level wizards get eighth level spells, and for once there is something I want to get. You might not use Scylla in-game, but hey, giant sea monsters are cool, so use either Summon Greater Demon, Dominate Monster, or Illusory Dragon to get one, depending on your preferred method.

You get yet another ASI, so bump up your Constitution for better concentration and more health- remember, health gets added retroactively, so that’s 16 extra this level, not one.

At seventeenth level you finally get ninth level spells, giving you access to Mass Polymorph for a proper pig banquet. This one is limited to only half the targets’ levels, but a pig is still CR 0, so it shouldn’t be a big issue. However, if you’re feeling really cruel, you can use True Polymorph for a more... permanent solution. If you keep concentration up for a full hour, the change lasts until it is dispelled. You can also turn objects into creatures, or creatures into objects, but none of those are particularly in character.

Eighteenth level wizards get Spell Mastery, giving you a 1st & 2nd level spell that you can cast for absolutely free, no restrictions. You can always change it later, but I highly suggest Magic Missile so you always have some damage on standby, and Alter Self for the versatility of it.

Your penultimate level grants you your ultimate ASI, so bump up your Charisma for an easier time tricking sailors. It doesn’t do much for the build, but at this point it doesn’t need to.

Your final level of the build gives you two Signature Spells, 3rd level spells that you can cast once per short rest without spending a spell slot. Sadly polymorph is a fourth level spell so it isn’t in the running, but Bestow Curse and Tidal Wave are good runners up. I never said you had to be nice to sailors, just help them out occasionally.

Pros and Cons

Pros

Polymorph is one of the easiest ways to utterly shut down an enemy if it hits, at the very least buying you an hour to run away and regroup. It’s also very funny.

The Transmuter’s Stone is a very powerful support tool, protecting you and giving you healing options wizards don’t normally get. You also come loaded with tools like Skill Empowerment, which is just flexible enough to be useful even when you’re not on a ship.

You get concentration free flight, which is incredibly useful for a spellcaster. Being able to completely avoid an enemy’s front line and turn their back line into pigs is very useful.

Cons

The reason your flight being concentration free is such a big deal is because a lot of your spells use concentration. Honestly, your saves aren’t that bad (esp. with war caster) but it still limits your options, especially when your signature move requires concentration.

While your stone is powerful, it has a huge recharge time to contend with, requiring a long rest followed by an extra 8 hours of work, and the entire time between now and then you might as well not have a subclass. It’s a pretty harsh penalty for actually using your class feature.

It takes a while for this build to go from level one to casting polymorph, so if you want a build you can jump right into and feel like the character, this build definitely isn’t what you’re looking for.

[darylandbethfanforever9]

Devil’s Backbone

Devil’s Backbone

Chapter 1

Story Rating: Explicit, 18+ 

Warnings: Smut, violence, flashbacks of past sexual assault, descriptions of torture and racial slurs

This story will contain spoilers for FATWS, and a few spoilers about Black Widow. This is not a Tony Stark friendly story.

I hope everyone enjoys the story :)

Pairings: Bucky/OC, Steve/Natasha, Billy/Wanda/Grant, Clint/Laura, and Sam/Sharon. Tony/Pepper, (mentioned only).

Summary: In the aftermath of the Blip, Bucky struggled to find his place among the world and the Avengers. However, when he is sent on a mission to Madripoor to investigate a mystery woman, he starts to realize maybe his past isn't too far behind him. Co-Written with WalkingPotterGirl14

The Novosibirsk HYDRA base had been abandoned for at least a few years, but it had been in use recently. The rooms were vacant of any dust, something that James Buchanan Barnes noticed as he surveyed the building that had once been his former home as the Winter Soldier. He couldn't help but feel a sense of closure. He had insisted that the bodies of the five Winter Soldiers be given a burial. Plenty of the Avengers had backed him up when Tony had refused to do so. Anything that was of use had been taken away as evidence against HYDRA, seeing as they had been rebuilding their empire. Bucky couldn't help but remember Zola's words. "Cut off one head, two more shall take its place," the recording of Zola had said gleefully. Bucky had shot the machine to pieces in case the AI had planned on blowing them up. He was just about to leave when he found a file disregarded in one of the rooms that were used for medical use. It was mostly written in a mixture of Russian, Belarusian and Ukrainian. Before he could really take a look at it, though, a voice called out. "Bucky, you ready to go?" Sam asked quietly. He nodded and put the file in his backpack, before leaving the room. They joined the others, who were also ready to leave, and made their way to the quinjet.

The young woman's dark hazel eyes snapped open as she was awakened from her sleep. She looked around the room wearily, wondering where her handlers were and if they had fled? It had been so long… She couldn't remember for how long she had been, however…but the last thing she recalled was being taken away to have her mind wiped. If that was the case, then it had been 2016. What had happened since then? Suddenly, she heard a quinjet starting up above the base. She needed to board that plane, before HYDRA returned. That was her way out. That had to be. Quickly, she started running up the stairs, shielding her eyes from the blizzard, and shivered slightly. However, not even the cold could stop her from climbing onto this machine somehow. She found a back door hatchet in the quinjet, before climbing inside and locking the hatch. She made her way to the lower deck, before seeing a flash of red hair. Her eyes narrowed as she hid, but flashes of her mind came back to her. She knew that hair colour, but she couldn't remember who had it. Damn it. She sighed, before settling down, and prepared to get to her next destination.

Bucky sighed in relief when they landed at the Avengers Facility, but grimaced at the weather forecast. The news reporter said that it would be the coldest March on record and advised people to stay at home until the storm passed. He intended on going to his apartment, have a much needed warm shower and then watch the baseball game with Steve, Sam and Clint tonight. He was going to spoil Alpine. He loved the white fluffy cat that he'd rescued from the streets. He went downstairs to get his backpack when he noticed that it hadn't been where he had put it. He frowned, looking around and shrugged. It wasn't like there was anything important in there from before, but maybe he had left it at the base? No, that didn't make any sense. He lets out a soft sigh and glances away, turning back towards the facility. "Hey," he hears from before, feeling himself smile as Steve emerged, his brow raised. "What's going on? We got a whole pizza in here for you." Bucky snorts. "I don't need that much food." "Debatable," Steve states, chuckling lightly. "But you, okay? You look like you've seen a ghost?" "Eh…think I'm just seeing things." Bucky nods towards the base. "Come on. I'll take a slice and then we head back. We gotta get shelter before this storm hits." Steve nods, pushing him forward gently. "Now that sounds like a plan."

The young woman waits until everyone was gone and the voices had stopped, and only then did she allow herself to emerge from the cargo section of the quinjet, moving as quickly as possible. Jesus Christ, it was cold here too. Why couldn't they have flown to somewhere warm. She glances up at the giant "A" that sat atop this building, and with a start, she realizes that it was an Avengers base. Out of every damn place she could have flown to… You know what? It didn't matter. All that mattered was getting some form of clothing and getting clean. She quickly heads in, taking quick glances around to make sure no one was there. Strangely, there was no one around. But she had a feeling it was most likely because they were in a meeting of some sorts. Great. That gave her the perfect timing. The young woman moves as fast as she could through the halls, looking around, trying to pinpoint out the one spot that she so desperately wanted. And there, near the end, it was. A door with the label 'shower rooms.' She practically groans in pleasure before racing inside, locking the door behind her so she could be alone. While she would like to enjoy this shower as long as possible, she knew her time was limited. So today, it would only be for the basics. As soon as the water had turned warm, she stripped herself of her clothes and stepped in. She always had a regimen, even something she could remember with her fuddled head. Hair, face, body. Those three steps to get it done as soon as possible. And that was exactly what she did, watching as the dirt and grime began to roll of her body in waves. By the end of the shower, the drain was clogged. But hey, it wasn't her problem. And now she smelt of lilacs, so it was even better. She steps out and grabs a towel, unlocking the door and glancing out. There had to be rooms or something here with clothes of some sort. Maybe something she could change into. She had stolen a backpack from someone – maybe that could work. Quickly now, she runs across the hallways to what seemed to be bedrooms, cursing the ones that were locked and then finally finding a few that were open. As she steps inside, she pillages the drawers, finding some jeans, shirts, pajamas, underwear – the whole nine yards. Yes, this was a goldmine. The next couple of rooms seem to have the same amount of clothing, which she steals from as well. Usually, she was never one to just take people's belongings. That was always her caretaker’s orders. If she put one toe out of line, well…that was that. It was the end. But now, her caretakers weren't here. She could do whatever she wanted. And that meant this. As soon as she had changed into some clothes and stuffed several other pieces in the backpack she took, she grabbed some shoes and put them on, heading towards the hallway once more and then racing out. Thank God that this meeting was going on long enough. When she exited the building, she did see plenty of vehicles, waiting to be used. Maybe she could hot-wire a car of some sorts? But as she walked up to a motorcycle, she feels herself smile. Whoever had driven this left the keys in it. "Dumb fuck," she mutters, before getting on and straddling it as quickly as possible. She gives a mock salute to the base before taking off, leaving this area behind.

"What exactly did you find at the base?" Fury asks, his brow furrowed. "All I see here are some old techs that don't quite work anymore. You said this meeting was for something important." "It is, sir," Sam says. "Bucky found this." He brings over the folder that Bucky had found. "He didn't have the time to read it while in the quinjet, but I did, and what's in there is…real fucked up. I don't know if this is going on anymore but…. just read it." Fury takes the file with interest, putting it under a projector so they all could see what was inside.

The file detailed a program called the Black Widow Ops Program that began in the 1950's. It took orphaned young girls as young as five years old to be trained at the Red Room Academy, which was located in the Maryina Horka Forest in Belarus. "The Red Room has ties to an agency called Leviathan. Leviathan is a Soviet deep science and espionage agency. S.H.I.E.L.D had a run in with one of their operatives - a woman called Dottie Underwood. The Leviathan program was shut down in 1963 but the Red Room was already functioning," Steve explained quietly, his voice grim. Fury flipped through the file, his face turning grave at every turn of the file. Everyone at the table was given a copy. Most of the names were crossed out, having died during missions or from training. Bucky glanced at the names, recognizing a few of them. Polina, Irina, Viktoriya, Zorya, Natasha and Yelena. There was another name, but it had been redacted. "All of the people on this list are dead aside from me, Melina, Yelena and Alexei. We shut down the Red Room once and for all after Taskmaster, along with Lukin, restarted the program in 2016. We destroyed the building, and all the girls were killed or had died," Natasha said firmly, her face giving away nothing. He knew better though. She and Yelena were hiding something. "How can you be so sure, Romanoff?" Tony asked snidely, glaring over at her from where he sat next to Bruce and Rhodey. He had been acting like an ass since the Decimation had been reversed. "Because we killed all of them, Stark. They were too dangerous to be allowed to live. Something that the Soldat would know," Yelena answered coldly, her brown eyes flicking briefly towards Bucky. "Don't you dare bring her up, Yelena! You don't have the right to mention her and neither do you Natalia!" Bucky said dangerously. He grabbed his jacket and stormed out of the room. Steve gave Yelena a look of disappointment while Sam ignored her, and both went to check on Bucky. Wanda followed shortly after, with Billy Russo and Grant Ward leaving as well. "We'll continue this meeting in the morning, everyone. Next time, Yelena, I suggest keeping your mouth shut," Fury said warningly, before leaving with his leather coat billowing behind him as he walked out the door. Bruce, Clint, Natasha, Tony, Kate and Yelena were the only ones left in the conference room. An uncomfortable silence hung over them. Clint was the first to say what Bruce and Kate were thinking. "Did you really have to bring up Bucky's past, Yelena? For Christ's sake, he's been through enough. I get that you're mad at him for beating Alexei, but it's not his fault that Alexei got sent to prison!" Clint said angrily, before leaving. Kate left with him. Bruce shook his head. He liked Bucky and didn't understand why Natasha and Yelena harbored so much distrust towards him. Tony hated the man and refused to let him stay at the facility.

Bucky had gone to the garage to get his bike. He just wanted to get away from this place. He knew he wasn't welcome at the compound, but neither was Steve, Sam, Clint, or Wanda for still agreeing with Steve on the accords to an extent. No matter how hard he tried, people were still afraid of him. Some even said on Twitter that Tony should have killed him in Siberia when his arm had been blown off. He sighed heavily, before starting up the engine and drove out of the garage, making his way home. It doesn't take long, thankfully, since they were so close to the city. He parked outside his apartment, heading up the stairs before opening the door and being greeted by Alpine. The fluffy white cat purred at seeing him. He crouched down to stroke him tenderly behind the ear. The cat purred loudly before he locked the door and went to wash his bowl. After finishing that, he gave Alpine fresh water and fresh food and biscuits. He smiled as he watched Alpine eat happily, before turning on the TV and started cooking dinner. "You don't deserve to be an Avenger, you murderer!" Tony had snarled at him when Fury announced Bucky was being added to the team. All he could did now was prove all of them that he did deserve to be an Avenger. It was all he could do. He made sure to text Sam and Stave that he was alright. He didn't want to burden Steve and Sam, or Clint and Wanda. They were good to him, along with Yori and Leah, even though Yori knew it was him that had killed his son.

Anastasia had dumped the bike at the nearest garage before going to a long-abandoned HYDRA safe house in the Upper West Side. She checked to see if anyone had been there lately, but luckily, no one had ever checked the place out. She took off the black leather jacket before checking the office and logged into the computer. She typed in the password, relieved when it was correct and was greeted with a very large amount of money. "You were a bastard, Pierce. I fucking hated you, but at least you didn't lose the money after all this time," she remarked coldly, before deciding to make her way to Madripoor, converting the money to cash just as quickly through the machine. It was probably the safest place for her, considering that the Avengers would soon find out that the HYDRA safe house had been slept in and the money was gone. She counted the notes carefully, stunned that she had over 4.29 million dollars in cash. She intended on donating some of the money though to a few charities that she genuinely liked. The Red Room and HYDRA had always hated how she was still soft despite the brutal training they put her through. Not to mention the days of starvation and having broken bones from sparring sessions.

Natasha had gone to her room to have a shower and get changed into more comfortable clothing, only to realize that some of her clothes were missing. Namely one of her black leather jackets was missing along with a pair of her size seven black combat boots. Did Yelena or Wanda take her clothes? Her brow furrows before she moves outside. "Wanda?" She calls out as she sees the Avenger pass her. She looks up as she does. "Did you take any of my clothes?" Wanda's brow furrows before she shakes her head. "No, not at all. Is your stuff missing?" "Stuff from me is missing too," Yelena says, emerging from her room. "Couple of my shirts." "Huh," Natasha mutters before turning to Wanda. "Sorry for bothering you. Think we might have just misplaced stuff." Wanda smiles a bit. "We all do that sometimes." She waves bye to her as she heads back towards her room, but as soon as she had moved around the other side of the hallway, Natasha pulls Yelena into her room, before closing the door behind her. Instantly, Yelena's eyes turn to her. "What's going on?" "You and I both know what I'm thinking," she says lowly. "Why do we think that our clothes are missing?" "Could just be some kid who broke in." "Come on, some kid can't break into an Avenger's base," Natasha chastises. "Barely anyone knows where this place is unless told…it had to be someone who had tailed us back all the way from…you know where." Yelena's eyes widen a bit. "You don't think-" "We didn't see anyone there but…but what if? There might have been someone who has escaped the HYDRA base when we left and is now just…roaming around New York City. How else would our clothes be missing? They must have stolen them to get clean and then taken off." Yelena bites her lip and then nods her head slowly. "It does make sense." "Fury," she says quietly, bringing Yelena's attention back to her. "There are hidden cameras in the hallways. We could ask him for security access to see who it was." "Fury isn't really in my good graces right now," Yelena mutters.

"It doesn't matter. If the safety of our organization is at stake, he will let you go through his cameras. He'll go down for SHIELD, you know this." She glances towards the door. "We need to try and take care of this. As soon as possible." Yelena nods, sighing. "I know…I know."

She had to admit that New York City was nice. It had been years since she had been to this place, only with the intention of missions, and even then, she could hardly remember what it was like. But with the money she did have now, she might as well buy a few things before she was on her way to Madripoor. As she walks into a tiny coffee shop that seemed to be below an apartment building, she asks quietly for a cup of coffee black and two cookies – might as well get some good stuff in her prior to a long flight. "What's the name?" The barista asks politely. For a moment, she froze. Her name brought back so many painful memories. So many that she wanted to forget. She hated even thinking of her time in that spiteful, horrible prison. So, she makes a change, right here and now. "Ana," she says softly. "It's Ana." The barista nods, writing her name down on a cup. There, a refreshing new start. She was no longer Anastasia. She was Ana. Fair and square, no ifs ands or buts. She wasn't going to be HYDRA's puppet anymore…even if her memory wasn't the same. She moves to take a seat over in the corner, waiting patiently for her food and drink to be done. In the meantime, she saw someone else come in, a man that looked to be slightly older than her but not by much. He had a jacket and gloves covering his hands. She had to admit he was quite handsome, but the last thing on her mind was to get infatuated with a random stranger. Quietly, she listens to his order, what seemed to be a sweeter coffee with a cookie as well, but then he reaches into his wallet and is unable to produce the money for the second item. He sighs and only pays for the coffee, going to sit down. She glances over at him as she hears her name called. "Ana!" Quickly she gets up, grabbing her hot coffee before looking over at the man, quietly glancing down at his phone. If she wanted to start new, she'd start new. She heads over to where he sits, and he looks up at her in surprise. "I…know you don't know me, but I overheard you and-I'm not good with this, just here." Ana gently lowers the cookie onto the table, and a kind smile comes over his lips before he looks up at her. "You didn't have to do that." Ana shrugs lightly. "I heard about the storm that's going to be happening soon…we all gotta look out for each other, right?" She asks. He chuckles a bit and nods. "Indeed, we do…wish others saw it that way." He looks back up at her, his brow furrowed. She tilts her head. "I'm sorry, you…you just look familiar." "Strange…quite sure I've never met you," she chuckles a bit, rubbing the back of her head. "I must sound so weird," he states, shaking his head. "It's okay," she responds lightly, but she had to admit inwardly the stranger did have a nice smile. A part of her wanted to sit down and talk with him more but she knew she had a flight to catch. "But enjoy the cookie, stranger. I have to get out of here. Stay warm." He offers another smile to her. "You too." Ana smiles at him before heading out the door, holding onto her bag tightly and her coffee in the other hand. For a second, she pauses, glancing back at the coffee shop. Strange…he felt familiar too. But that was impossible. The only person she ever knew was long gone…or at least she thought he was. Maybe she was just crazy. Yeah, she was crazy. Ana shakes her head and quickly heads back towards the street, whistling out for a cab. It was time she got out of this town.

"It's nine at night," Wanda mutters, angrily coming into the briefing room with the other Avengers. "What is it that you all could need at this hour? We're supposed to be resting for the upcoming mission." Fury sighs as everyone takes a seat. "We got a big problem – wait, where's Barnes?" "Who cares?" Tony mutters. Steve glares at him before sighing at Fury. "Bucky went home after the incident this afternoon." "Goddammit – get his ass back here. We can start then. And Yelena – keep your mouth shut!" Yelena rolls her eyes but nods, crossing her arms against her chest. Steve grabs his phone, quickly making the call to Bucky. And hopefully, he wouldn't face the wrath of the Winter Soldier when he returned back here. Thankfully, the snow hadn't started yet but soon enough they'd be snowed in.

"Really?" Bucky asks as he comes in, his brow furrowed. "I literally just settled down to relax." "Sit your whiny ass down," Fury states, gesturing to the spot next to Steve, which he does. "Now that everyone is here, I didn't want to wake you all up or bring you in for nothing. We've had an issue here at the compound. Something that all of you need to be aware of." At that moment, he pulls up what seems to be security came footage, and there in the hallways was a girl.

tag list: @jtargaryen18 @saiyanprincessswanie @sapphirescrolls , @americasass81​ @marvelfansworld , @connie326 , @joannaliceevans-fanficblog , @queenoftheunderdark @navybrat817 and @threeminutesoflife , @lex-the-flex, @world-of-aus, @avintagekiss24 and @the-soulofdevil, @gogolucky13 and @kenzieam and @darkficsyouneveraskedfor​

[ifmywishescametrue]

hnnng, could you please do either “you’re sick and you need to rest” or “you could’ve died” for stevetony? Worrying about an SO is a soft spot for me🥺

thank you for sending me this prompt! hope you like it :) (warning for mentions of torture, btw, but nothing graphic)

In that cave in Afghanistan, Tony keeps seeing flashes of things. Moments from life before all of this come to him in between the shocks of electricity when his head is forced underwater, while he’s sputtering and gasping for breath and can’t understand the words being screamed at him. 

He sees Steve more than anything. Sees blue eyes and a bright smile and if he tries hard enough he can almost hear the laugh that comes with it. Sometimes it’s that first day again, with roaming hands and a rush to get off in the bathroom of some party he didn’t want to be at, followed by an easy grin and the promise to do that again sometime. He sees Steve on his couch surrounded by take out containers and the reassurance that absolutely none of it counted as a date. Morning pancakes that supposedly meant nothing, and Steve sneaking under the desk in his office. Pencil scratches on sketch pads that used to wake him up, cold feet pressed against his calves, his favorite muffins from that bakery downtown that used to just appear out of nowhere when he was having a bad day, and the way that Steve would never admit that it was him doing it. 

It’s that last night he remembers the most. He can almost hear the words whispered in the dead of night and remembers the ones he held back, because Tony has never known how to be completely honest. He didn’t know how to say that this casual friends with benefits things was starting to feel less like friends and more like love, but when he lays down with his aching chest and bleeding fingers on the poor excuse for a cot at night, he wishes more than anything that he could have found the words before. 

So he builds the suit and practices the right thing to say for when he makes it out. If he makes it out. If this ridiculous plan of his doesn’t result in him dying somewhere in the middle of the desert, just another body added to the pile of deaths he’s caused. 

He almost doesn’t believe it when he lives. His knees hit the scorching sand, and Rhodey’s arms are right there, and still all he can think about is whether or not Steve mourned at all when they all thought he was dead. 

In the plane, after the hospital at the army base and all the IV lines to fix the three months of dehydration and malnutrition, he works up the nerve to ask about it. 

“Steve,” he starts, voice hoarse enough that he pauses to clear his throat, unwilling to sound so affected. “Is he - did he -” He stops, settling for asking, “Have you talked to him?”

Rhodey leans forward on his elbows, closing some of the distance that the aisle between them created. He pulls out his phone and taps for a moment before turning the screen to face Tony. Steve’s name is at the top, and Rhodey scrolls through the string of messages with enough speed that Tony can’t actually read any of them, but he gets the point anyway.

“This is just the last couple of weeks,” Rhodey says. “Never stopped asking for updates, especially when we found you. Called so much I told him I was going to put a virus on his phone to redirect him to random strangers if he kept it up. He didn’t listen.”

Tony swallows around the lump in his throat and looks away towards the window. 

“We weren’t supposed to be anything,” Tony murmurs, watching the way the sky is fading from orange into blue, clouds obscuring the ocean below them. It’s still a few more hours until California, where he hopes that Steve is still waiting for him. “We said it was nothing.”

Rhodey hums, both noncommittal and suggestive at the same time, and Tony turns his head back to look at him. “What?”

Rhodey shrugs, “I didn’t say anything.”

“But you want to.”

“I don’t spill secrets that aren’t mine to tell.”

Tony’s brow furrows. “What does that even mean?”

“It means he’ll be there when we land, and if you try to pretend that it’s still nothing, I’m putting your ass back on the plane until you find your common sense somewhere.”

Tony bites his lip and shakes his head, staring down at his hands, “I wasn’t going to pretend. I just - I didn’t know if he cared anymore. It’s been a few months, and we weren’t… There was never a promise for commitment. He could’ve found somebody else. Anyone else.”

Rhodey gives him a look, that fondly exasperated one he does so well. “Nice to know you’re still a dumbass.”

It startles a laugh from and makes his abused lungs twinge, but it feels good to laugh again. “Takes more than a few months to knock the dumbass out of me.”

The topic falls away after that, because Tony can’t say what he feels, and Rhodey knows anyway. He switches the conversation over to the start of the baseball season that Tony missed, complaining about the Phillies like Tony’s heard every year since he was fifteen. It’s easy and passes the time until Tony ends up falling asleep for the rest of the flight.

His muscles are stiff and uncomfortable when he wakes with a start a couple of hours later, heart racing and on edge when he doesn’t immediately recognize his surroundings. Rhodey puts a hand on his knee, and Tony jumps initially before calming. It makes Rhodey’s eyes turn sad for a moment, then it’s hidden away again. 

“Come on,” Rhodey says softly, gripping Tony by the elbow of his good arm to help him up. “We’re here.”

There’s still a slight limp in his step when he walks off the plane from bruises and scars that are still healing. He sees Pepper first, with her red hair shining in the sun, but his gaze gets stuck on the person next to her. 

Steve straightens from where he’s leaning against the black car, and Tony wishes he was in better condition so he could run to him. It would have been romantic, he thinks, like something out of one of those movies he’d never even seen before Steve came into his life. There would have been some grand, sweep-him-off-his-feet moment with declarations and pretty words and violins coming from somewhere. 

Instead Steve meets him halfway, with a quivering chin like he might start to cry. There are dark circles under his eyes, and his hair is too long, and his five o’clock shadow is almost an actual beard now. 

He’s the best thing Tony’s ever seen. 

“Hey,” Tony says, because he can’t remember a single one of those things he planned before. 

Steve smiles, and it’s only a little shaky, “Hey yourself.”

Rhodey and Pepper disappear with the shutting of the car door, leaving the two of them standing there in the middle of the empty runway. Steve takes the first step, but Tony takes the second, and then Steve’s chest is beneath his cheek, and his arms are around his shoulders. 

Tony holds on to him like a lifeline, fingers clutched in his t-shirt, and he can feel the warmth of him seeping into his skin. Steve’s hands are all over, as if checking to make sure he’s all actually there and in one piece. 

Steve steps back a little, a small frown on his face. He reaches his hand up to Tony’s chest, and Tony tenses at the first light press against the reactor case.

“What…” Steve trails off, eyes flickering between Tony’s chest and his face, and Tony undoes two of the buttons on his shirt to show him. 

The scars around it are marred and red, with raised edges that serve to make it look even worse than it is. Steve makes a sound like a choked back sob, and Tony grabs his wrist to put his hand on the reactor. It’s a little terrifying to let him touch it, but if there’s anyone he knows would never hurt him, it’s Steve. 

“It’s okay,” Tony murmurs. “It keeps me alive.”

“You could’ve died,” Steve whispers, fingers spreading out over the light of the reactor. “I thought you - I didn’t want to think it, but it was hard not to. Rhodey kept saying that you wouldn’t let yourself go out like that. You’d be all or nothing, and it wasn’t big enough. And Pepper, well, she basically said exactly what did happen. That you’d find a way out. I tried to believe it, too, but I just kept thinking that you could be gone, and we’d never - I’d never get the chance to make this real.”

Tony looks up at him, breath catching in his throat. “I thought about you every day, you know. I almost told you how I felt about you on that last night. Came so close to saying it, but I just -”

“I know,” Steve says, and with his other hand he cups Tony’s cheek. “You don’t have to say it. I already know.”

“Yeah?”

Steve nods, leaning in closer, and his lips brush against Tony’s when he says, “Yeah, sweetheart, I know.”